by Alison Tyler
“Three people have been in touch with lame excuses. So it’s going to be just us tonight.”
Though she knew that her long-simmering attraction to Dina Melling had been part of why she’d volunteered for this administrative extracurricular, it had never occurred to Lorraine that they’d end up alone together upon convening. As far as she could remember—and, of course, she would remember—she hadn’t ever been alone with Dr. Melling under any circumstances.
They proceeded with the committee work. Because of the poor attendance, decisions were made quickly: two faculty members could only generate so much deliberation. Moreover, Lorraine was too awed by the other woman’s smooth competence, and too damp and giddy from her one-on-one nearness across the table, to contribute much.
“So that’s that,” said Dr. Melling after thirty minutes. She smiled at Lorraine. “Now I just have to get off my erogenous ass and find some more reliable faculty members to join us next time around.”
Lorraine sensed her face flushing some indeterminate berry color. Had she heard Dina correctly? Her erogenous ass? People didn’t just say that as a figure of speech, did they? Her blood went hot as she visualized Dina’s trim, gently rounded bottom exposed for her, inviting contact.
“Any ideas?”
“Huh?” Lorraine, startled out of her inner movie, nearly shouted the syllable.
Dina grinned reassuringly. “Any ideas as to who might be willing to sit on this committee?”
But Lorraine wasn’t interested in getting people to sit on committees. She was interested in getting Dr. Melling to sit on her face. “I’ll have to think about that,” she said weakly.
Moving slowly and deliberately, Dina rose from her chair and walked to Lorraine’s side of the table. She stood behind her and spoke in a hypnotic alto.
“I presume you noticed, Lorraine, that I referred to my ‘erogenous ass’ just now.”
Lorraine began shaking. Dr. Melling, awaiting her reply, steadied her, placing her hands on her shoulders.
“I wondered if I’d misheard you.”
“It was a peculiar thing to say, wasn’t it? But I had a feeling you might appreciate the sentiment.”
“Yes,” Lorraine whispered.
“I’ve observed, for a long time, that my ass is particularly erogenous around you.” Dina lowered her voice further. “You make me feel like someone’s tickling me with an ostrich feather.”
Lorraine’s pussy wept, and her heart skittered.
“I’d like your hands all over my little derriere, gorgeous,” Dr. Melling specified.
From behind her, Lorraine heard the sound of Dina’s side-zippered skirt being unzipped. When she stood, turning to face her senior colleague, she saw that the skirt was a mere echo on the floor.
She almost forgot to breathe as she reached for the front of Dina’s black knickers.
“You have no idea how horny I am in these panties,” said her colleague, squirming elegantly to emphasize her point.
Lorraine laughed—nervously, dizzily, even joyously—and grasped Dina’s waistband with both hands. She breathed hard now while she watched panties descend and woman emerge.
Dr. Melling, with the silk of her fine, dark pubic hair shimmering under the fluorescent lights, set about deftly extricating herself from the underwear, her shoes, and the skirt that clung to her ankles. Her maneuvers brought her handsomely proportioned bottom into Lorraine’s field of vision, and Lorraine found herself giggling again as she made a lusty grab for both cheeks. She dropped to her knees and lavished a symphony of kisses and caresses all over Dr. Melling’s erogenous ass, while Dina hastened to conclude her partial disrobing—electing to retain her blouse, her thigh-highs, and of course her glasses. With Dina wriggling in her face with dignified abandon, Lorraine had never felt so turned on in her life.
She reached under and down to touch Dr. Melling’s moist pussy. Dina turned her head, her mouth forming a silent moan. When their eyes met, Lorraine bravely blurted her desire: “Sit on my face. Please.”
Dina’s eyes glittered. “The bench,” she suggested.
The padded, backless bench to which Dr. Melling ushered Lorraine was situated just far enough out from the wall to allow for a nice lewd straddle. Eager to get into position beneath such a straddle, Lorraine lost no time in tearing off her sweater, complete with bra, and folding it into a makeshift pillow. The free swing of her breasts added extra zest to her state of excitement—especially when Dina took a moment to play with them, making her nipples spark with want.
Lorraine lay down with her knees up, her feet planted on the vinyl cushion, and her clitty on fire. A heartbeat later, Dr. Melling’s erogenous ass hovered above her face.
She clasped the divine, sensitive cheeks, and pulled Dina into a sitting position. She felt the sizzle between her own legs as she began to lick the sweet furrow—Dina’s perfectly poised slit. Her ears went erect when she heard a sigh as crisp as the abandoned notebook: the sound of Dr. Melling melting.
While she ate the delicious woman and frantically fondled her bottom, Lorraine squeezed and relaxed her own thigh muscles, bucking her hips in a dance of arousal. She knew she couldn’t make herself come in her pants this way—but she’d get as close as she could, then rip her jeans open for Dr. Melling’s tongue. The prospect of that event made her lick Dina’s gash with extra gusto; and when her tongue tip hit her colleague’s rigid clit, the ass in her hands vibrated in ecstasy, and hot, sticky love juice bathed her face.
Dina had been clutching Lorraine’s knees in her throes, but now she moved a hand to her crotch, rubbing Lorraine’s fly just so. As the tension exploded and her panties became a wet heaven of rippling pleasure, Lorraine hammered her heels on the bench, wallowing in the feeling of being an impatient animal. She hadn’t even waited for the tongue, couldn’t even wait to bare her cunt.
Yes, things were accomplished quickly with an efficient little committee of two, thought Lorraine.
QUEEN OF PARKING-LOT BLOW JOBS
Giselle Renarde
I did it again today. I visited my girlfriend at work. Reprobate writer seeks innocent Melanie for backseat naughtiness in underground parking lot. Yes, I’ve been wicked again. Spank me, Jesus.
Before this gets too confusing, what with “blow jobs” in the title, let me clarify: I’m a woman, Melanie’s a woman—we’re a lesbian couple—but while I’m a woman with a pussy, my girlfriend’s a woman with a cock. She’s trans, hence the mention of blow jobs. So that’s one mystery solved.
Melanie didn’t always let me at her nether regions—in fact, there was a time not long ago when she assured me we would never have the kind of sex that involved a pussy and a cock, or a mouth and a cock, or pretty much anything else and a cock—but luckily we’ve matured as a couple. And with maturity comes backseat blow jobs.
I love sucking my girlfriend off, and I don’t care how sleazy or sordid that sounds. The moment my tongue touches the slick satin flesh of her tip, I just flood my panties with juice. It’s crazy how wet I get, right from the very start, right from the second I give the gentle curve of her cockhead a nice little lick. She gasps and bucks her hips, and that beautiful moment gets me every time, whether we’re at home in bed or in the underground parking lot beneath her office tower.
Giving a blow job in a parking lot is risky, especially when your girl doesn’t want the whole world to know she’s got a penis. I thought I’d outgrown all this sex-in-cars stuff, but as an adult I’ve rediscovered the sketchy and the vulgar, and I love it. The key to really enjoying the experience is to have faith in your partner. If I didn’t trust Melanie to keep an eye on the surroundings while I’m working in her lap, I’d be too panicked to give good head. And what’s the point of giving a blow job if your heart’s in your throat? Doesn’t leave much room for cock.
It’s a whole lot easier when she’s wearing a skirt. That way I can just bury my face between her thighs and it’s like giving head in a little tent. Today happened to be very chilly,
one of the first cold and windy days of autumn, so Melanie wore businessy black slacks. Not ideal, but I can work with anything.
I didn’t visit her at work with the explicit intention of letting her fuck my face. In truth, I just missed her. I just wanted to see her smile. The sex stuff just kind of happened. The plan was to go for a brisk walk. We only went down to her car because that’s where she’d left her heavy jacket—a must with the wind picking up. I’m not even sure why we ended up sitting in the backseat of her little car flanked by high-rise SUVs, but once we were in there I had to suck her off.
She seemed surprised when I grabbed her crotch and stroked it. With everything tucked away, her mound always felt as smooth as mine. But I knew better. I knew there was a cock buried under layers of panties and tight, binding undergarments, and I wanted that thing in my mouth.
When I tried to unzip her fly, she laughed at me. I always struggled with her pants, because she had a bit of a belly and it pushed out on the zipper. Finally, she undid it herself. That amazed me. Every time I got away with some public sex act, I was always in disbelief. But this time, my woman fished around inside her panties and drew out a flaccid cock. It was my job to get her hard, but I was good at that.
Diving into her lap, I wrapped my mouth around her entire shaft. When my lips met her pubes, I started to suck. There’s something I’ve always loved about her soft cock—I can get the whole damn thing in my mouth without gagging. Of course, once it’s in there, it never stays soft for long, and this day was no exception. The moment I tasted the salty-sweet flesh of her shaft against my tongue, it started to grow exponentially. Before long, I couldn’t keep the whole thing in my mouth.
That’s when I felt her hand on the back of my head, pressing me down. There must have been someone walking by—yes, there was, because I remember hearing the clip-clop of heels on concrete—and I tried to keep my throat open, but the more I thought about it, the harder I gagged. Tears welled in my eyes. My nose started to run. My throat had never felt so full of cock, and that moment seemed to last forever.
My girl’s hand was like an anvil on my head. I whimpered around her girth, but she didn’t let me up. My tears and snot and saliva soaked her black pants, but there was nothing I could do about it. Finally, she let up her hold on my head and apologized about a thousand times. I didn’t let her hard-on out of my mouth long enough even to tell her it was okay. The waiting had worked me into a frenzy. I wrapped a fist around her shaft and pumped it hard with my hand, sucking the top half like crazy.
I wanted her to come. Now. I wanted to hear her make those orgasm noises and to feel her muscles clench and release. I wanted to taste her jizz because—I’m not sure why, but her cream didn’t taste like a man’s. It was sweet like clover, not heavy, not musky. Delicious. I wanted it.
My fist pistoned up and down her shaft, and my head came with it. I devoured the cock that had grown from little to big in my mouth, creating a crazy amount of hot suction to tempt her over the edge.
When I heard her say, “Oh, god,” I knew she was close, and I also knew what I could do to push her over the precipice. With my free hand, I felt around between her legs. Her balls were in there somewhere, hidden under layers of tight panties. When she gasped I knew I’d found them, and I pushed there, squeezed, applied all the pressure my fingers could manage as I consumed her cock.
It worked. I knew it would. It always did. She bucked up into my throat so hard I had to close my fist around her shaft and push down. She said my name, which was always the best part of bringing my girl to orgasm. Second best was the flood of cum against my tongue. Every time I swallowed, there was more. I downed the stuff, squirt after squirt, until the pulses slowed and eventually stopped.
I teased her tip with my tongue, and she laughed, pushing my head away from her waning erection, pulling her top down to cover her naked cock. It’s the last thing she’d want anyone but the queen of parking lot blow jobs to see.
HELLUVA THING
A. M. Hartnett
Not that I’m complaining or anything, but what are you up to?”
Tabitha raised her gaze to meet Duke’s, but she could hardly be expected to answer, at least not while his cock was sliding over her tongue.
She should have known it wouldn’t take him long to figure out something was up. It wasn’t often she brought him a home-cooked meal. It wasn’t often she bought him the expensive rum. It wasn’t often she put on the really slutty underwear and blew him before dessert.
“Tabs?”
She made a small sucking sound and lifted one shoulder.
Duke didn’t look convinced. Blissful, yes, but skeptical. “Did you put a dent in my car when you were pulling out of your driveway?”
“Nggh-nnn,” was her only possible response. She closed her eyes, grasped his shaft and closed her lips around the circumference. He pushed against the floor with a grunt. His ass came up from the cushion and his dick went deeper into her throat.
True, she was after something, but it’s not like she didn’t enjoy being in this position. She liked sucking him off. She liked the sounds he made. She liked feeling like the only woman alive who knew how to get him off just right.
Duke sagged against his pillow as Tabitha slid her tongue along the underside of his cock. She teased him at first, watching his expression go from calm to strained, and was contented that she had thrown off his investigative groove.
He parted his lips and a strangled sound preceded his words, “God, I love how you suck me.”
Duke twined his fingers in her hair and pulled her head up until only the fat tip remained between her lips. With a smile, she ran her tongue along the groove on the underside of the head. Duke groaned and sleepily watched while she coated her lips with the cloudy dew that oozed from the tip. The salty tang popped on her taste buds as she licked every drop.
It was what could have pushed him over the edge, but she drew back. Duke clenched his teeth and growled, but he gave no argument as she stood and adjusted her garter belt and stockings.
“Come on,” she said in a husky tone. “I’m ready to go off.”
“Not until you tell me what you want.”
Tabitha could have screamed. She could have stamped her foot and busted some shit over his head. Instead, calmly, she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” but she knew it was pointless.
They’d been friends for so long there was little point in hiding anything from him. She had known Duke since the first grade. In high school they’d developed an on-and-off fuckbuddy rapport. When his marriage went into the shitter, she’d been there for him. When hers did the same, he was waiting for her.
If they could have made it a whole week without getting into a screaming match, they’d have had a hell of a thing. For now she’d settle for a good screw and a smidge of sympathy.
Leaving him in bed, Tabitha wandered to the window seat and peered out at the quiet, suburban street. She’d make him come to her. A moment later the bedsprings creaked. She heard the snap of latex and then Duke was turning her in his arms.
She closed her eyes and breathed him in until it seemed like there was nothing else in the world but that scent, his warmth, and the heaviness filling her abdomen.
“How do you want it?” he asked in that low, growly voice that gave her the shivers.
“You know.”
His fingers found her clitoris swollen and her cunt slick. “Right now I just want to play with you. Switch places with me.”
She sat on the window seat and leaned back on her hands. Excitement skittered through her belly as he nudged her thighs apart and rested her feet against his shoulders.
Grinning, Duke ran his middle finger along the cleft. When he raised his glistening fingertips to his lips and licked away her juices, she curled her toes with anticipation. She held in an elated breath as he teased her stiff clitoris with the tip of his sheathed cock.
“You’re dripping, Tabitha.”
She lifted he
r head and looked down her flushed body, and then at his. Duke was magnificent, pure sex. His biceps flexed as he gripped her leg just above her small foot, and his shoulders rolled as he positioned himself to penetrate her.
He fucked her hard and steady. Hookups that had become a regular thing in the past few years had given them a cadence that never got boring. He went balls deep, pumping to build his tempo. His balls slapped against her ass, jarring a moan out of her each time.
The sounds he made, those stuttering grunts from the back of his throat, made her crazy. Though in his clutches, she was able to rock and bump with each thrust. His fat cock rubbed her G-spot, and he bumped her clit with each pass. It all combined to send her spiraling up into that hot, liquid vortex.
Abruptly, he lifted her and in a blink they were on the bed, Duke resuming his position and pace immediately. Her breath trapped at the back of her throat and her whole body pulsed. As hard as it was to do, she fought to keep from closing her eyes and shutting out the glorious sight of Duke before her: the scrunching of his brow and the splotching on his cheeks coincided with the way his cock throbbed between the slick inner walls that milked him.
His fingers tightened around her ankle. He arched his back and shoved deep. His euphoric tension bled into her, keeping her electric even as her body grew heavy with satisfaction. She tipped her head back and sighed as he surged.
The next few moments brought only the hush, the panting and stroking, the awareness of each other via long looks and sleepy smiles. He shook out his shoulders and released her. Tabby stretched out like a cat and fell back with a sigh, then watched his shadow in the bathroom as he cleaned himself up.
Strolling back to the bedroom, Duke dragged his feet and yawned, then flopped down on the bed. Face squashed into the bedding, he mumbled something she couldn’t understand.
She rolled over, her arm draped over his back and her hand on his ass. “What did you say?”