Healthy Addictions

by Landon Dixon

‘Are yousure?’ I countered, putting my fingers on his skin – letting myself feel the smoothness along his side and his lower back.

  ‘I’ve always been sure,’ he said, pressed chest to breast with me. I could feel the muscles in his belly jump a little with the rush of it all. His heart banged wildly, hard enough that I felt it against my chest.

  ‘Could have fooled me, Prescott,’ I said. I snaked my hand between us and found him, ran the tip of his cock to the wet slit of my pussy and parted my legs just a little more.

  ‘Christ, I don’t want to hurt you,’ he muttered.

  ‘Rumour has it, it always hurts the first time,’ I said against his earlobe and then, ‘It’ll hurt way more if you shun me.’

  ‘I could never shun you,’ he whispered back and entered me.

  I had that moment. That moment of tension and blinding fear but the want overrode it all and smashed if flat with lust and love that had been around for as long as I could remember. When my body hesitated and so did he, I forced my hips up, tugged him down and bit his earlobe so he hissed.

  My hiss echoed his and we stilled – eyes locked, muscles trembling and then he was moving. Slow at first as my body warmed, hummed to life, gripped up around him. Pain bled its way toward pleasure, grew entangled until pleasure won and I locked my legs around him to get him deeper.

  ‘You should ... I don’t know if you’ll ...’

  I put my fingers to his lips and simply said, ‘It’s good.’

  His hipbones smacked mine, pelvic bone grinding to my clit. Just the right way, just the right pressure, just the right man. I had not saved myself forhim, but was glad that it was him – glad for this farewell.

  ‘Kiss me, kiss me,’ I chanted. I could feel it coming. The orgasm. I was no stranger to them – had had plenty in my life. Just not this way, not this kind, not this forceful.

  My pussy clenched tighter and tighter as he pinned my hands to my sides by my hips, locked fingers with me, held me flush under him so that he could thrust and drive into me. He rolled his hips at will and held me firmly to the sofa as I kissed him, licking his lower lip. I held him tight and came with a long low cry that he swallowed, still kissing me, still holding me down.

  ‘Turn over, Elsie.’

  I didn’t argue. I let him pull free of me long enough to turn me on my hands and knees. Then he slipped into me from behind – bending to lick up my sides until I shivered in the darkened room. His fingers found me and he rubbed my clit in slippery circles.

  ‘Again?’ I gasped, pressing my forehead to the sofa. My ass high, my body slamming back to meet him now. His fingers bit in hard along the flare of my hips and he held me, gripped me tight. I wondered if I’d have his fingerprints on me in the morning on that early morning train out of here and the thought alone tripped me over the line. ‘Yes, God, again, again,’ I cried as I came.

  ‘Fuck,’ he half laughed, slamming into me three more times before growing still and silent and sighing out his orgasm.

  I rolled onto my back. ‘Thank you, knight in shining armour, for taking the virginity I offered.’ I laughed, but there was a hitch in my voice that embarrassed me.

  He pushed himself against me and wrapped an arm around my waist. ‘Don’t joke it away, Els. It was too short. An hour long would have been too short.’

  His cable box read 5.40 a.m.

  ‘My train isn’t for an hour and a half. We have time.’

  His mouth found me. ‘I’m sorry it took so long to get here.’

  ‘Me too.’

  His hand found my breast, my hand his cock. We started again. Mixing and flirting with fire and sadness and lust and love and things that have gone undone for way too long.

  ‘Those big feelings were always there with us. Maybe that’s why it scared me. Maybe that’s why we stayed away. Things that big and fierce and present can fuck with us tiny humans.’

  I swallowed hard, ran my finger over the tip of his cock as he thrust a finger deep inside me. I could smell a faint coppery scent and knew that it was me. A little bit of blood – the sacrifice of my heart to a man who’d always owned it anyway.

  ‘Maybe one day you’ll come to the city and visit me,’ I said, parting my legs for him again.

  Was this how it could be? Could you have each other and then moments later want each other all over again? I thought it could.

  He settled between my thighs, licking my shoulder before biting my breast hard enough to make me sparkle with pain. ‘Maybe I will.’

  But he wouldn’t. I was sure of it – and deep down so was he. But I opened my legs anyway and let him in. One more time. I still had until 7.13.

  Friday Nights

  by Eva Hore

  My flatmate, Sheila, is one of those quiet types. You know, spends most of her time in her room, hardly goes out and never has friends over or entertains. I don’t think in the two years that we’ve shared our flat have I seen her with a guy.

  She’s a librarian. Loves her job and always has her nose in a book. That’s how we met. I was advertising for a flatmate and asked if I could put an ad up on the bulletin board. She came over, loved the place and moved in the very next week.

  We generally keep to ourselves but lately she’s changed. I’d spied her coming out of the bathroom one Saturday after she’d come home. She’d been wearing mascara, her eyes were smudged and black, her lips were raw and swollen, her hair all mussed up.

  She looked like she’d been out having a good time and, for Sheila, that was so out of character.

  When I tried to ask her about it she lowered her head and quickly made her way back to her room. It was no big deal. She was a grown woman and able to do whatever she pleased. Why the secrecy, I wondered, and being inquisitive by nature I began to snoop around her room when she wasn’t home.

  Didn’t find much. Not even sexy lingerie, which made me wonder even more. If she wasn’t getting dressed up to please someone then what was she getting up to?

  You can therefore imagine my curiosity when she began going out every Friday night and didn’t come back home until early Saturday afternoon. She’d sleep most of the day away, get up for a quick meal on Saturday night then lock herself away in her room for the rest of the weekend.

  My boyfriend John said I was too nosy. He said I should leave her alone, not worry about her and what she was doing, but I couldn’t let it go, I had to know what she was up to so one night I followed her.

  I’d talked it over with John, told him what I was going to do but he wouldn’t come with me. This particular Friday night I watched her leave and then after about 30 seconds I ran down the fire escape and hid around the side of the building. I watched her jump into a cab and, fortunately for me, one was idling on the other side of the road. A quick whistle from me and, with the squeal of tyres, the cab did a U-turn. I jumped in, and like in the movies, I said, ‘Follow that cab.’

  Now that I was in hot pursuit I wondered about how silly I’d look if she pulled up at a church choir or somewhere equally as innocent. I hadn’t even thought about what I’d do once she arrived at her destination.

  We were driving to the outskirts of the city, near the wharfs where all the large warehouses were situated. What was so interesting out here? I wondered if this was the same place she went to every Friday night or was tonight different? I should have just asked her instead of involving myself in this ridiculous chase, and don’t know why I never did.

  We ran over the old railway track, over cobblestones and then onto a rough track, heading out towards the far reaches of the wharf. She certainly seemed keen on keeping her affairs private.

  I asked the driver to kill the lights – didn’t want her to know she was being followed as there was hardly any other traffic. An old hobo here and there, a stray dog and mounds of rubbish.

  To be honest a prickle of fear rose in me as I took in the surroundings. My hand stole in my purse to make sure my mobile phone was still in there, just in case I needed it. I was begging to wonder the wi
sdom of my decision and what John would say if something happened to me.

  I was about to tell my driver to turn around and take me home when her taxi slowed down and then pulled up. Excited now at the prospect of finding out where this trip had led me I asked the driver to keep going, to slow down but continue on.

  Peering out the back window I saw her alight and quickly run up the stairs of an old warehouse and knock at a big door. As it opened, light spilled over the stairs. I could only see the outline of a very tall, well-built guy. Just before the door closed I glimpsed that there were other people in there as well.

  My heart raced and I checked my purse, making sure my phone was switched on before paying the driver. Jumping from the cab I watched the rear tail lights disappear into the night and hurried back to skirt the building and its surroundings.

  At one stage I tripped over something and almost found myself sprawled on the ground. Fortunately, I righted myself and continued on more carefully. It certainly wouldn’t do to have to break something and call an ambulance now would it? Down the alleyway I saw light squeezing out from between curtains.

  Making sure no one else was about I found an old crate, checking it for stability before placing it under the window. I held my breath as I climbed up on it to peer between the crack in the curtains. The room was decked out beautifully. There was no comparison between the shabby exterior and the opulent furnishings and décor that were fitted inside.

  Men, good-looking men dressed in suits, were sitting on leather armchairs being waited on by half-naked women. The women were dressed in long flowing gowns, sheer all the way through, and even from this distance I could see that they were naked underneath.

  My heart missed a beat when I saw Sheila kneeling at the feet of a handsome man seated upon what could only be described as a throne. Her head was bowed and two young women were standing beside her, an arm each resting on her shoulders as though preventing her from rising. These girls, acting like guards, were dressed in short tunics, which were draped over one shoulder, exposing a breast.

  I licked my lips nervously, never having thought that this would be something I’d be witnessing tonight. I wished John had come with me. He probably wouldn’t believe me – even I was having difficulty trying to believe that Sheila was actually here.

  The two female guards pulled her to her feet. She struggled with them, acting as though she wanted to leave. I was unsure of what to do. Should I bang on the door and demand they let her go, or was this how she got her kicks? After all she did know the guy who let her in and no one had forced her here.

  The guards began to rip off her clothing and she fought with them but to no avail. Within minutes she was naked, her hands covering herself. I found myself getting turned on as I watched. I never realised what a magnificent-looking body she had. Her breasts were full and voluptuous, swinging as she struggled. Her legs were toned beautifully and her bush of pubic hair was like a tiny little mohawk, black like the hair on her head, standing out against the whiteness of her skin.

  A rustling nearby startled me. I peered into the darkness, my nerves getting the better of me as I noticed a quick movement and the distinct scratching of nails over tin as a rat scuttled among rubbish bins.

  I brought my attention back to Sheila and saw that they had forced her to turn around, to stand and show herself. She kept her head lowered, but one of the girls yanked her hard by the hair and her neck tilted backwards causing her to stumble forward. She looked magnificent. It was obvious that the men who were seated were giving their approval as a murmur filtered through the window.

  Dragging her across to a post that was situated in the middle of the room they tied her hands behind her back. She had her head lowered again as though embarrassed, looking downward and one of the guards pulled out the bun she had her hair twisted into. Her hair was longer than I’d ever seen it and it fell like a shawl around her shoulders and down her back.

  The guards pulled her hands up over her head and strapped her to another rope and pulled upwards. I gasped as her breasts strained forward; her abdomen sunk in, tilting her pelvis forward as she was tied to the post. Her gorgeous breasts were heaving and then the guards positioned her legs apart, securing them to some hooks that were bolted in the floor.

  Fuck, what was this shit she was into?

  Spreadeagled like that, she looked magnificent. Like a goddess being offered for a sacrifice. I wondered if she knew how spectacularly striking she looked. The guy who had been sitting on the throne approached her, slowly walking around, his hand trailing over her body.

  He crushed her breasts roughly, cruelly, before tweaking at her nipples, pulling them forward and rolling them around his fingers. I watched him clip something to them and a chain hung downwards, swaying every time she breathed. Mine hardened as I pinched them, wondering what it would feel like to have them clamped like that. Then his hand roamed down her thigh before roughly grabbing at her pussy.

  I peered about in the darkness hoping the rat had gone, making sure no one was watching me.

  The guy’s mouth crushed into hers as he continued to explore her body, manhandling her. He pulled back from her and, even at this distance, I could see the wild passion that was simmering in her face – the lust and desire. He stood staring at her, his hand pulling her head back by her hair as he ravished the curve of her neck.

  Scanning the room I saw that most of the girls were either sitting on the armchairs or resting at the feet of the men. Some men were fondling the girls openly, others were watching, waiting for who-knew-what to happen.

  I didn’t know if I should leave, go home and forget I’d seen this. It was her private business after all. If she wanted to be controlled and used by these people that was her affair. Who was I to judge? To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded it myself. The thought of all those eyes boring into me, watching every move that was being made, was making me very wet.

  So for that reason I stayed.

  The guy beckoned one of the other girls to come forward and, when she did, he pushed her roughly to the floor, directly between Sheila’s open thighs. He spoke to her and I watched, mesmerised, as she rose slightly so that her face was level with Sheila’s pussy.

  Her tongue snaked out to lick her slit. Sheila struggled against the restraints as though horrified by what was happening to her. A hard slap to her thigh and she stopped. Then, while the woman on the floor was licking her pussy, another woman crisscrossed rope tightly around her as they trussed her to the pole.

  I wondered what she’d taste like, how she’d feel if it was me between her legs. The thought of it had me wanting to break down the door and join in.

  The ropes were now pulled so tight that her beautiful breasts strained forward from her body, the nipples darkening as blood pooled there. With the nipples clamps attached the pain must have been exquisite. Within minutes her breasts were coloured purple and the woman between her legs was now on her knees, her tongue snaking up her body, licking her flesh, lingering on her tortured nipples before continuing on to kiss her mouth.

  The man’s hand reached out and, in one quick rip, he tore the garment that the woman was wearing off her body. Naked, she rubbed her body into Sheila’s, grinding her pelvis into her as though trying to rub their clits together, her arse cheeks clenching as she did. She mashed their breasts against each other’s nipples, moving her body from side to side before her mouth devoured Sheila’s.

  The man began to whip her arse. Red welts quickly appeared as he lashed at her while her hands roamed over Sheila’s body. She pushed her arse out, greeting each new slap with relish.

  My arse cheeks clenched and my pussy throbbed as I wondered how it would feel to have a whip being lashed at you. Again I wished John was here. This was something I wouldn’t mind trying in the privacy of our own room, but I would be loath to suggest it. Didn’t want him thinking I was weird.

  The two female guards left Sheila and stood before the man, undoing his trousers and allowing his
cock to spring forth. Man, what a cock! It was huge. I watched, open mouthed, as one of them fell to the floor in front of him and gobbled it hungrily into her mouth. The other undressed him, removing all his clothing until he stood there nude. Some of the other women who had been sitting beside the men in the leather chairs were now either sitting astride them or sucking their cocks.

  What was this place? What was Sheila into? Who would have believed that this quiet flatmate of mine was into all this kinky shit? My hand stole into my panties and I opened my legs so I could finger myself while watching. My pussy was saturated. I looked about, making sure no one was around and quickly pulled them off, stuffing them into my handbag.

  I wanted to masturbate like crazy but didn’t want to miss anything else. The woman with Sheila was back between her legs looking up at her snatch. A few men had come closer to observe their antics. One pushed his cock in the woman’s mouth while fondling Sheila’s nipples. Then his fingers were pushing into her pussy, finger-fucking her while another man began to grope her.

  The guy that had been sitting on the throne began to fuck another woman who was bent over a table as though waiting for anyone to come along and give her a serve. He rammed himself into her, slapping her on the arse before pulling out and allowing someone else the pleasure.

  This was too much for me and, dropping my bag, I lifted one leg onto a brick that jutted out from the building, balancing myself so I could pull back the hood to expose my clit. It was hard and throbbing and I rubbed quickly, revelling in the orgasm that followed. With my fingers slipping among my folds I hurriedly fingered myself, loving the feel of my silky juices.

  I was thankful it was so dark. I couldn’t imagine what someone would think if they happened to see me, to see what I was doing.

  But I wanted more. Needed more. Picking up my bag I punched in my home number, desperate for John to come here and witness what I was seeing. When he answered I was in the middle of another orgasm and I breathed heavily into the phone.

  ‘Who is that?’ I heard him demand.