by Alison Tyler
“Lubricant?” I asked, thinking the last time I’d done this, I had to use a lot of petroleum jelly.
“Spit is fine,” Hannah said. She spit into her hand, put her hand between her asscheeks. She spit into her hand again and rubbed the saliva over my cock. “I’m getting impatient,” she said.
I moved on top of her, feeling inexpert. Hannah reached back, took my cock, and guided me into her ass—where it slid in just fine, without hesitation or resistance. The warmth of her interior sent a tingle up my body and soul. Hannah whispered, “Oh, boy,” and pushed her rear up, hard, slamming into my pelvis. I looked down at the streak in her hair, which was scattered about the back of her neck and on the bed with the rest of her hair. I can’t swear she had an orgasm, I wasn’t sure, but mine came quickly, and it was a lot; I emptied myself inside her.
We lay next to each other after, and Hannah commented on the amount of semen I’d gushed out, that she liked how it felt up her ass and coming out her ass.
She touched and played with my cock and balls, and soon I was hard again. She got on top of me. “This position is always tricky,” she said, sitting down on my cock and sliding it in. She leaned forward to kiss me, and it popped out, covered in semen from that first ejaculation. Hannah giggled and put my cock back in her. I reached for the light. “What are you doing?” she said.
“I want to see you.”
“I like the light off.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, turn it on if you want.”
I did. She still wore her bra; her hair was a mess. I reached to unclasp her bra and she pushed my hand away; my cock slipped out of her.
“Let’s try it like this,” I said, gently pushing her off me and onto her back. I put her legs on my shoulders; I didn’t need her help to find my way in. I was deep in her now.
“I like this,” she said.
“I can kiss you,” I said, and did.
“Kiss me more.”
I did.
“Fuck me harder.”
I did, and I came inside her again.
“I have to piss,” I said to her. “Do you want it?”
She made a noise, reached up and bit my right nipple, hard.
“Ouch,” I said.
We went back to bed, in each other’s arms, and fell asleep.
I woke up, the next morning, with Hannah messing around with my ass. She had her face down there—I was lying sideways—licking from my balls to my crack. I’m not sure how long she’d been doing this, but it was a nice thing to wake up to. She pushed me onto my stomach, spreading my buttocks, a light finger on my sphincter, then a tongue. She licked it a bit, asked me if I liked that. I did, of course—“Yes,” I said. She said, “I like it, too,” and licked more, harder this time, pushing the tip of her tongue into me like a thirsty animal at a waterhole. I felt saliva roll down onto my balls—a funny, ticklish feeling. She started to suck, making sounds that I can only describe as pleasantly perverse. She did this for the good part of an hour, as I lay there in ecstasy, having discovered a new world. She was still making wicked sucking sounds, and there was a soft hum from the back of her throat.
“My mouth is getting tired,” she said. “Can you fuck me?”
She got on her hands and knees, and I took her from behind. I grabbed her hips and slammed myself inside and out of her. I wanted to come in her mouth, this image was in my head, but I couldn’t hold out.
And that’s how I ended my period of celibacy.
ALISON TYLER
ASHES AND DIAMONDS
HE’S NOT LOOKING AT ME. He’s not looking at anything.
“You know what to do. What I want you to do.”
It’s just me and him in the room. I understand fully what it feels like to be taken like this. And I know what it feels like to want to be taken like this. To want and to be denied. So I start to slide that slippery toy between the fine cheeks of his ass, and I feel hot tears streaking my cheeks for no reason at all. And Jack says, “Jesus fucking Christ, kid. What do you think I want from you? You think this is what I want?”
I’m helpless. The tears are blinding me. But my craving to please overpowers the fear. I don’t want to fail. Jack’s boyfriend wouldn’t fail. But Alex is physically attached to his cock, while mine is synthetic and blue. Silly color choice, that. What the fuck was I thinking? That he wanted something cute? That he craved something artsy?
Jack is waiting.
And I’m letting him down.
His voice is sandpaper rough when he speaks again. He sounds distant, and yet I know the power contained in the man right in front of me. “Don’t make me ask again.” A simple statement. One that’s impossible to ignore.
I swallow hard. It takes everything left in me to grip on to him, to thrust forward, to let him feel it—that’s all he wants. I understand. To feel what I feel. He wants to climb inside me, and there’s no way for him to actually do that. He wants to climb inside my body, to own every single part of me. To see what makes my mind work. To feel the rush of the blood in my head.
And the blood is rushing.
I can’t hear anything else but the sound of my own heartbeat. But I’m fucking him, finally. And maybe I understand a little bit about Jack when I do this. Maybe I climb into his skin for a moment, seeing my man submitting to me. Even if it’s all a big act. Even if Jack could switch the power in a heartbeat, pull forward, take control. But he doesn’t. It is a total display of trust that he lets me continue, and I start to feel the pulse beating only in my cunt. Start to feel the wetness and the heat take over. My fingernails grip Jack’s skin, and then I press my body to his, my front to his back, and even while my hips are still bucking, I reach under him and touch his cock.
Just a light touch at first.
He groans, his head down, and that sound takes me to a higher level. I grip on to his cock, start to jerk him, touching him like he needs.
He says, “Jesus—” again, but it’s different this time. He says, “Jesus,” and I know that means “Don’t stop.”
I’m fucking him hard, and he just takes it all. The pleasure from my fist and the sensation of being filled and the whole fucked-up scene. He devours it, somehow, from beneath. Until I’m the one to let go. I’m the one to come, that toy cock pressed so hard against my clit as I fuck him, the feeling of his rocklike rod in my fist. I come until I can hardly breathe, collapsed against him, liquid, spent.
Jack’s in motion before I can think. He pulls forward, flips me around, undoes the harness like a pro, and in seconds I’m on my stomach on the mattress. He doesn’t use lube. He just fucks. Hard and fast. As if erasing the previous minutes. As if demolishing everything we’ve done tonight.
He fucks me like a machine, and when he comes, the room seems filled with the light you sometimes see through cut-glass windows. Shivers of light. Diamonds of light.
Or maybe that’s just the look of the world through my tears.
ABOUT THE EDITOR
CALLED “A TROLLOP WITH A LAPTOP” by East Bay Express,
Alison Tyler is naughty and she knows it. Ms. Tyler is the author of more than twenty explicit novels, including Learning to Love It, Strictly Confidential, Sweet Thing, Sticky Fingers, and Something About Workmen (all published by Black Lace), as well as Rumors, Tiffany Twisted and With or Without You (Cheek). Her novels and short stories have been translated into Japanese, Dutch, German, Italian, Norwegian and Spanish.
Ms. Tyler’s short stories in multiple genres have appeared in many anthologies as well as in Playgirl magazine and Penthouse Variations.
She is the editor of Batteries Not Included (Diva); Heat Wave, Best Bondage Erotica volumes 1 & 2, The Merry XXXmas Book of Erotica, Luscious, Red Hot Erotica, Slave to Love, Three-Way, Happy Birthday Erotica, Caught Looking (with Rachel Kramer Bussel), and Got a Minute? (all from Cleis Press); Naughty Fairy Tales from A to Z (Plume); and the Naughty Stories from A to Z series, the Down & Dirty series, Naked Erotica and Juicy Erotica (all from Pretty Things Pre
ss). Please visit www.prettythingspress.com or www.alisontyler.blogspot.com.
Copyright © 2007 by Alison Tyler.
eISBN : 978-1-573-44473-6
All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio, or television reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States by Cleis Press Inc.,
P.O. Box 14697, San Francisco, California 94114.