When we got to the hotel, we took a shower together. We loved taking showers together. It was like pervert playtime. Penetration is so easy when you’re soaking wet. And the feel of our warm wet skin sliding up and down each other’s body, well….
In the shower, she took me from behind. My hands pressed against the back shower wall, slightly bent over, I relished the feeling of her pumping in and out of my tight ass. I loved getting fucked like this; when my ass got reamed I felt a pleasure almost unequaled by anything else.
After the shower we made our way to the king-size hotel bed. Cody had chosen well. Knowing how tactile I am, she had selected an upscale hotel with delicious sheets. For a few minutes I lay naked, clean and happy, enjoying that “just fucked” feeling. Cody lay next to me and began tracing the ample curves of my body lightly, with just the tips of her fingers. “Mmmm…” I purred. Cody spread my legs open and continued caressing me, trailing her hands across every part of my squeaky-clean exterior.
“Fuck me,” I said slowly, still lost in the delectable feeling of the sheets and the ass-fucking I had just received. Cody chuckled and asked me if I felt good. “Mmm-hmm. You know I do.”
“Do you know how much you turn me on?” Cody asked. “Of course, I do,” I answered slyly. Cody grabbed me by the face and forced me to look at her. “No. Do you really know?” she asked, an intensely serious look in her normally mischievous eyes. I squirmed a little in her grasp. Was this a new game we were playing? Who was who? What was the script?
She kissed me long and hard, rolling on top of me and thrusting her hard, muscular thigh between my legs and against my sex. This was more like it. “Fuck me,” I said again, more forcibly.
“No.” Cody rolled off me. She put her hand between my legs and started rubbing my clit in that incredible way she does. Almost immediately I was on the verge of coming. I never have problems coming with other people, in fact, I come quite well.
“Touch yourself.”
I cringed… No, really? Did I have to? I was so turned on, so ready for one of our usual sex marathons… Please, please, please don’t do this to me…
“Do it. It’s about time a big girl like you makes herself come.” Cody was being mean, and not in a good way. I wanted body worship; I wanted to see that sweet look in her eye when she stopped to watch her cock moving in and out of my cunt. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and turned my face toward her. “Come on. Show me. You are the most attractive and sexy woman I have ever met in my life. If you can’t make yourself come, I will lose faith in sex.”
Well, this wouldn’t do! I reluctantly started rubbing slow circles around my clit and sliding my fingers up and down my slick cunt. I was soaked. “Touch yourself the way I touch you,” she ordered me. I began to try and emulate the impassioned way that Cody played with my pussy. She played with my cunt as if it were the last cunt on earth and she would never get to play with it again. The more I thought about it, though, it wasn’t so much a feeling of desperation that Cody exhibited when she played with my pussy, but a sense of adoration. And the more I thought about how much she loved my pussy, the more wet I became.
“Yes, baby, that’s it. Make love to that sweet pussy,” Cody whispered next to me. I had almost, for a second, forgotten she was there. “You have the most precious cunt I have ever known,” she continued “and I have tasted, touched and fucked many cunts in my life.” I was getting more and more excited, my breathing becoming shallower, and I was actually enjoying my self!
“I wouldn’t trade your cunt for any other cunt in the universe,” Cody breathed directly into my ear. “Your cunt is the essence of magnificence, a work of art, a masterpiece.” I inserted two fingers into my pussy and began to fuck myself hard. “Yes, yes…” I didn’t know where the words were coming from or what I was saying yes to. At this moment I didn’t know anything at all. I was achieving the pinnacle of great sex—an utter and complete lack of thought.
“You know why I came on to you so hard that first night at the bar?” Cody continued her exquisite torture, whispering in my ear. “Because you were the strongest woman in the room. You moved like a lioness prowling the desert. I knew I had to go in for the kill.” With these last words of Cody’s, I spasmed, my breath caught in my throat, tears came to my eyes and I saw stars.
CRUISING
L. E. Yates
When I’m getting ready to go out on the prowl I often get a feeling like the excitement of being sick but without the nausea, like my stomach lining is trying to peel away. It feels good in the same way that inhaling sherbet up your nose feels good, and believe me, I do mean good. I pull on my heavy, steel-capped biker boots, tucking them under my leather trousers, and sling my battered black leather jacket over my white vest. One large silver spike rivets my ear. My hair is dark and cropped short, snug against my head. I was once told that I had eyes like flakes from an iceberg—whatever that means. I’m wearing bondage cuffs, tight confections of soft, supple, leather and stainless steel, around both wrists for the constriction and sheer pleasure of it. I know I’m looking good.
I bang the door behind me and stroll down the hill from my apartment. I live in an ancient cathedral city where small, beautiful medieval churches cluster and old flint-faced walls run into each other. Beautiful, but it’s difficult to find the sex I need in this small, provincial place. I walk to the riverside, leaving little trails of iced breath in the dark air behind me. Dirty water slaps against the moorings and a line of grubby white cruising boats. I slouch my shoulders forward just a tiny bit and check that my jacket covers my small tits. It does. I step across the toll bridge and into the wooded park that marks the beginning of the local cruising area for gay men. I’ve become used to getting my kicks vicariously. I enjoy the ambiance. Strange men stalk between the trees, crunching leaves underfoot. Some of them walk dogs and feign nonchalance. I’ve even seen a few round here in business suits—no doubt, their wives are left waiting at home as they sully loafers in the mud and snag holes in pinstripe, rubbing against the rough bark of a tree as they’re taken brutally and swiftly by a faceless man they met twenty seconds ago.
A whole new language of looks and come-ons develops. Rejection is as subtle as the tilt of a head. Tonight the air is spiced with the smoky tang of autumn and a sharp, slowly trickling sense of muted danger. Dark parkland, bushes, and trees lie ahead of me. Often I catch men fucking and stand and watch them—on their hands and knees, being shunted hard from behind, or half hidden by a bush having a thickening cock rammed into their warm mouths; even sitting on one of the forgotten park benches stroking each other’s dicks.
Walking soundlessly, I reach the center of the park, continually checking the shadows and real obstacles that appear in my path. My clit is tingling. It aches from the recent sight of a youngish-looking man being fucked in the arse by a blond, heavy man in biker’s leathers, whilst twisting his head around at the same time to service the throbbing, red-tipped erection of another kneeling man. I had to force myself to steal quietly away before they shot down his throat and arse, worried I’d forget myself and betray my presence by some involuntary noise of lust and jealousy mixed together. Now just ahead of me I see the outline of a tall, slim shape leaning against a tree. I prepare myself to walk past casually but my heart is bumping in my chest cavity. For the first time tonight I feel like I’m on display. The man is dressed in dark clothes, jeans and a jacket perhaps, and is leaning with one foot up against the tree. Something dangles from his right hand—oh, it’s a dog leash. I relax slightly. I’m close enough to see that his hair is cut even shorter than mine. I look around but can’t see the dog.
“Hey,” the figure murmurs softly and I follow the sound without any real thought. I’m standing opposite now, face-to-face. For all my five feet seven I feel short. A kind of pleasurable sensation freezes my brain as the dog owner reaches forward with leather gloved hands and manipulates me so I’m facing the tree. I’m pushed so hard against it that I can feel the patterns of the bark
pressing into my cunt. Hypnotized, I stay pressed against the thick trunk while the leash is used to fasten my hands together around the other side, securing me tightly to the tree.
“Cuffs—convenient,” a concentrating voice mutters from the other side of the tree. The burning, stretching sensation in my arms as the final knot is tied restores some of my sense to me.
“What are you doing?” A pathetic and useless question. The dog owner suddenly slams against me from behind, shoving me hard and nearly winding me.
“You should be quiet. I’m going to expose you… play with you…do what I like with you. If you want to be freed at the end don’t make it necessary for me to use a gag or blindfold.”
I stop squirming and trying to turn my head to see over my shoulder. That and my heavy breathing are taken for assent. All I can think is how I can now feel breasts against my back, and something harder, lower. The voice, although gruff, isn’t quite low enough to be a man’s, I realize. I can’t believe it.
A cold, gloved hand reaches round and flips open the buttons of my trousers. Then my trousers are dragged down round my ankles. My assailant—whom I now know to be a woman—hoists my vest and jacket into a bundle around my shoulder blades. The chill air is like a slap to my whole body. My skin creeps up into gooseflesh. I’m naked, exposed, tied to a tree. I wonder how many people can see the luminous white of my flesh in the darkness, watching me just as I watched them. Leathermen, big daddies, bikers, circling around me with their cocks out, stroking themselves to hardness.
I can feel the zip of her jeans and hard metal of her belt buckle pressing into my bare arse and burning with the cold. Her hands reach round and grab the erect tips of my nipples as my legs are kicked apart—as wide as the trousers shackling my ankles will allow. She just spreads me wide and helps herself. My nipples are being plucked and pinched and teased into aching points of chafed skin. Then the pressure against my arse recedes and all my thoughts are concentrated in my nipples being worked so hard and grazed against the rough skin of the tree.
My cunt is dripping wet as I feel the cold tip of something long and very thick pressing tantalizingly against it. I try to open my legs wider but fail and I let out a visceral grunt of frustration. The freezing silicone head is rubbed up and down across the opening to my cunt, nudging up to my erect clit and slowly back down again to rest against the tight pucker of my arsehole.
“Maybe I should take you right here,” she says, “like the little gay boy that you are, cruising around in the woods, looking for sex. Well, you’ve found it.”
The head of her dick pushes against my clenched arsehole.
“No,” I hear myself saying, “I’ve never been taken there.” Can’t she read the signs? I’m a top. I do not take it up the arse.
“Forbidding me, are you?” she croons. “We’ll see.”
Before I can reply she slams the thick dick she’s packing into my cunt. Opening and stretching me, she gives my tight hole no time to adjust to the length and thickness. My cunt aches as she rams against the top of my cervix with her blunt, thick head, pulling nearly all the way out of me before thrusting back deep inside me. All I can feel is her in my cunt and her leather and metal bruising my buttocks. Anger at my enforced and unusual passivity and the sheer force of her cruel and energetic pounding begins to warm me.
I’m spread-eagled, wrapped around a tree and helpless. The muscles in my arms and stomach are being pulled to unbearable tautness as she works on me. I simply have to stand, spread and open, and let her impale my cunt repeatedly. I feel like I’m actually going to split down the middle but, despite myself, I can’t help trying to push against her insistent, plunging dick.
“Oh, do you want some more?” She grabs me by the half-inch of hair on my head. “I’ll give you what you want.”
Slicked wet from my cunt she pulls her dick back and then pushes it into my virgin arse. It hurts like hell, more than sherbet up your nose. This is definitely a boundary. I feel like I’m going to dissolve, that I can’t possibly bear her plunging in and out with long, hard strokes, or that I’ll explode. But my sphincter tightens around every move she makes.
“That’s right. Milk my good, big dick.”
I’m just about to start screaming when her hand works its way round and insinuates itself against my clit. The cool leather strokes against my hard clit as she fills my arse again and again. I can’t hold back and with my arse and clit being worked hard and my cunt empty and swollen to the night air I come so hard that all I can see is the rushing of red blood tissue before my eyes. It feels like she’s come inside me, violating me further, flooding my walls, but I know this can’t be true as it’s only her silicone dick that is now being edged slowly out of me.
I sag against the tree as she plays the point of a knife up and down, up and down over my exposed flesh, before placing the handle in my hand. With difficulty I saw through the binding holding my wrists. Freed, I turn quickly round, rearranging my clothes. There is nothing but shadows and trees and bushes, a severed piece of leather and the rushing of the cold night air.
UNDONE
Miel Rose
There’s this woman I work with. She moves around with more confidence and self-possession than anyone I’ve ever seen. Sometimes I think it’s because she’s in her late forties, older than most of the people I hang out with. But who knows? Maybe she’s always been that way.
She works in the bulk department at the grocery store I cashier for. I love to find excuses to sneak into the back and watch her, the muscles in her arms tensing as she hefts the fifty-pound bags of dry goods. She has this old-school butch feel, and in this town, old-school butches might as well be unicorns.
After she got hired, my work clothes got a lot more interesting. My skirts got shorter, my jeans tighter—and this is really saying something. Plunging became the best adjective to describe the necklines of my tops. If the neckline was too high, I would just cut it lower. I started wearing more makeup to work, but I drew the line at heels after spending most of a shift barefoot when I decided it was more comfortable than standing eight hours in front of a cash register in platform sandals.
I would watch her move around the store, her short graying hair tousled and messy like she’d just rolled out from between some girl’s thighs. She drove me crazy. My mind would start running in circles. Did she date femmes? Would she even recognize me as femme? Or would she think I was some young, freaky straight girl trying to fuck with her? She looked like the exact kind of trouble I liked, but outside packaging can be deceiving. How did I even know she was a top? Lord knows she inspired the bottom in me.
I turned on my best flirt.
At first, I don’t think she knew what to do with me. Then she started playing along, seeing what I’d do. When I didn’t run for the hills, but continued flirting shamelessly with her, she turned up the volume. We’d be alone in the back room and she’d start dirty talking me, nothing too nasty, just enough to make my breath catch, my cheeks burn. The way she looked at me made me want to get down on my knees before her, my wrists held together behind my back, and show her what a good bottom I could be.
It was crazy making, wondering if she was going to make a move, if she would ever ask me out. Maybe she had a wife. Maybe she thought I was too young. Maybe she didn’t get hot for chubby girls. Maybe she didn’t get hot for femmes. The possibilities for rejection were endless in my head.
Then came the night we were on inventory together and the third person working our shift called in sick. I almost pissed myself when I walked around to the back of the store and saw her sitting on a stack of crates, smoking a cigarette. I always did inventory with the same two people, I hadn’t even bothered to check the schedule. I was totally unprepared to see her. She squinted at me through the smoke, looking me over like I was dessert on legs, like she wanted to devour me right there.
Under her stare my aggressive flirty self dissolved like unstable ground out from under me. I said hi, and fumbled around my
brain, finally adding something about getting to work, and walked past her into the building. I worked my ass a little extra, hoping she was looking.
I made my way to the office desk in the back, getting my clipboard and inventory list together. I heard the sound of her boots behind me as she entered the building, slow and measured, echoing through the back room. I listened to her steps getting closer and my body started breaking out in goose bumps. She didn’t stop until she was right behind me. My hair was pinned up and I could feel her breath on my neck, smell the smoke from her cigarette. This woman had me undone and she hadn’t even touched me yet. My heart was beating hard and I was working to control my breathing.
She leaned closer, whispering in my ear, “Well, sweetheart? You’ve been flirting viciously with me for months. You want to take this to the next level? Or do you want me to back off and we can start working?”
She was being rather gentlemanly about it, not even implying that I was a cock tease. I didn’t know what to say, my heart was racing and my breathing wouldn’t slow down.
I turned my head and looked at her over my shoulder, trying to let all the built-up want for her show in my eyes. She smiled at that, took hold of my shoulder and turned me around to face her. Her hand came up to stroke my jaw, her thumb tracing my lips. My eyes were locked to hers and I kissed her thumb, opening my mouth and sucking it in as far as it would go. Her eyes blazed and she moved her thumb gently in and out of my mouth. She was working me with kid gloves so far, treating me real soft and gentle, but I could feel the power building inside her, making her body tense.
She took her thumb out of my mouth and spread my saliva back and forth over my lips.
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