Forced Erotica

by Emmie Combs

  "Can I come?" she whispered.

  I threw open the door and smiled at my drunk roomie. "Yes, of course. Poor baby, you've got to lock your door or you get weird visitors on party nights."

  She nodded and made her way to my bed. She was tired and drunk but still irresistibly cute. I got her tucked in next to me and started stroking her hair. "Can I kiss you Mohana?"

  She mumbled a sleepy reply and I decided she meant yes. I brushed my lips against hers and she sighed against me. And then, she snored the quietest, cutest little snore I'd ever heard. I curled up next to her and drifted off to sleep. A couple of hours later, I woke up to the sound of knocking on my wall. Emiko's headboard was hitting the wall in a rhythmic fashion and I could hear soft whimpers of pleasure coming from her room. I reached up and knocked on the wall as well. I heard faint laughter and then silence. Mohana's eyes were open and she was looking at me.

  "You're not drunk anymore, are you Mohana?" She shook her head in the dim light. "I'm not sleepy now."

  "Can I kiss you again?" I asked.

  "I hope you ask this to me when I wake up." Oh, Mohana. What a surprise.

  I brushed my lips against hers again and then lingered with a bit more pressure. She abruptly put her tongue in my mouth and I kissed her back passionately. My hand went to her thick straight hair and I loved the way it felt between my fingers. She put her arms around me and hugged me and I got the impression that she didn't know what to do next. I held her for a while and then let my hands start to explore her body.

  Mohana had small breasts and they were free under her shirt. I slipped underneath and felt the soft flesh fill my hand, her little nipple poking into my palm. She leaned back a bit and pushed the nub more firmly into my hand. I moved to her other breast and lightly rolled the nipple between my fingers. It was hard and silky and I wanted to kiss it. But I wasn't sure if that would break the spell I seemed to have woven around her, so I continued my manual explorations. I slid my hand down her side and felt the gentle swell of her hip covered in silky pajama bottoms. Her skin was only slightly less silky and much warmer. She seemed to be growing even hotter as I played with her. I continued down her leg, feeling the young, firm thigh that tapered down to shapely knees and calves. I ran my fingers up the back of her thigh and gently stroked over her round, soft buttocks. Her ass was a work of art and feeling it was even better than watching it move when she walked, as I had done on more than one occasion. Mohana sighed softly and seemed to undulate her body in response to the attention I was giving her. She was enjoying being caressed by me, I was sure of it. But did I dare to move closer, to become more intimate? I decided that I did indeed dare.

  I pressed my lips to hers again and she parted to allow me access. Her kisses were a bit tentative, but sweet nonetheless. I nipped and nibbled at her full bottom lip, and sucked her top lip lightly. Our tongues swirled around one another, hers trying to keep up with mine and doing very well for a novice. I felt her hand go to my back and that touch sent an electric charge through my t-shirt and onto my skin. I arched my back, pressing my full breasts against her and moaned. Such an innocent gesture, and yet, I felt it throughout my heated body. I kissed her a bit harder this time, and tried to regain my composure. This was no time to lose track of my devilish plan to drive Mohana crazy on her first time with a woman. I suspected it would be her first time with anyone and I intended to give the girls a head start for her affections.

  As I kissed her, I slowly rolled her onto her back. I balanced on my elbow and used my free hand to raise her pajama top again. This time, I dipped my lips downward and captured one stiff bud, laving and sucking it even harder. Mohana moaned quietly and arched her back again for me. I loved each of her small, gorgeous breasts, tracing patterns around and over them with my tongue. Feeling her quiver and hearing her whisper my name, I kissed every delectable inch of my Malaysian beauty's chest. I made the occasional sojourn up to nibble at her graceful neck and that oft-ignored erogenous zone between the neck and shoulder of a woman. Both sides were sampled and I felt her erupt into gooseflesh, and knew that I'd hit my target accurately. Perhaps Mohana was one complete erogenous zone. I pondered that as I kissed my way back down her throat, inhaling deeply of her scent between her breasts and following an invisible trail leading to her naval. I kissed my way around the little button and then licked my way around, following the same path. She had the charm to giggle and squirm a bit, and that encouraged me to make another couple of trips around her ticklish area.

  As I kissed her softly curved belly, my breasts were rubbing against her pelvis. She raised her hips ever so slightly, encouraging the contact. I thought it might be involuntary, but I pressed a bit more firmly against her. The whisper of my t-shirt against her pajamas was quiet and unobtrusive, but I decided that both garments were in the way. I raised my body up, kneeling next to her and let her watch me take my shirt off. Even in the dim light, I'm sure she could see me. I have often been told that my paleness glows in the moonlight. It made her beautiful body seem all the more darker and richer by comparison. We were chocolate and cream together and I knew that our combination would be sweet and satisfying.

  I tugged her bottoms down slowly over her thighs and she lifted her butt a little to help me. As I slid them off her feet, she sat up and took the matching top over her head. I wished for better night vision, or that I'd had the sense and foresight to leave a lamp on. I would have to look at her beauty another time and instead I concentrated on just enjoying the feel of her. I wiggled out of my panties. Mohana had none to shed. Naked, I couldn't resist leaning over her, pressing her back into the pillows and kissing her full lips again. Our breasts moved together sensually as we kissed. The trail down to her belly went much faster on the second trip. I was focused and in a bit of a rush. I was aching to have her taste on my tongue, to be the first to sample Mohana's sweet nectar. I didn't think I could exist much longer without it.

  I gently parted her thighs with my hands and trailed my fingers across the inner softness. The sweet, hot, almost musky fragrance that drifted up to my nostrils was intoxicating and enticing. I felt her with my fingers first. Her pubic hair was silky soft and thickly curled. I ran my fingers through it on the front of her mons and then let my fingertips dip further down. Her outer lips were dewy with want and I rubbed gently. She shuddered and mumbled something.

  "Mohana, if you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so. But I don't want to stop. I want you so much."

  "It is ok for this way to touch?" she asked quietly.

  My mind raced. I didn't want to have an in-depth discussion on the morality of lesbian sex. I didn't want to have her question her obvious desire for me, especially not if it meant she was going to tell me to stop. I didn't want her to do anything but feel and enjoy and find ecstasy with me.

  "Does it feel ok, Mohana?"

  "It feels so good, I think I'll die," she whimpered.

  "You won't die. I won't let you. Just relax and let me please you." Before she could protest any further, I buried my face in her silken pubic hair.

  My tongue found her moist lips and parted them easily. She tasted so fresh and sweet, I lapped eagerly at her slit. I licked my way up between her folds and encountered her tight, swollen clit. I nudged it and licked my way around, making Mohana moan her loudest yet. Alternating, I kissed around her virgin cunt and then sucked her clit between my lips. Her nectar flowed even more freely and I was anxious to carry her over the edge I felt her approaching. I resisted the urge to penetrate her with my fingers, wanting to talk to her before we took that step. I was satisfied with tasting and teasing her with my tongue.

  Her hands were suddenly tangled in my hair and she cried out sharply. Her hips raised and I took my cue to focus only on the sweet nubbin at her center. I held it between my lips and vibrated my tongue quickly across it. Mohana's juices flowed over my chin. I used one hand to help hold her hips down on the bed and I felt her body vibrate violently. She gave a long moan, which ended in a
bit of a squeal, I felt a stream of moisture cover my chin and flow down to onto my throat. Then, the sweet girl collapsed back down limply onto the bed. Her body trembled occasionally with the aftershocks.

  I kissed her for a few moments, letting her taste those sweet juices she'd given to me. Her breathing was still ragged, but I didn't want to wait. My body burned with need. I positioned myself over her and between her legs. My hand snaked down to her soft mound. My fingers found her sensitive clit again, making her jump. My thumb pressed against my own engorged clit. I kissed her, rubbing our breasts together again and began to move my hips. I rotated them, causing my fingers to caress her while I humped my own hand. My pussy was so wet, but still not as juicy as little Mohana's. She spread her legs further and tipped her hips up, settling me at just the right angle for her pleasure. Her actions only increased my own. I felt her grip at my shoulders and I pulled back. Even in the dim light, I could make out her dark eyes staring into mine. Having already experienced one orgasm with me, she knew what I had in store for her and this time, she wanted to watch me.

  I felt my brow furrow and my muscles involuntarily tensed, pressing forward for what my body was seeking. I needed to cum with this delightful woman. I wanted to share my pleasure with her, feel her respond to it. I started to shake and Mohana matched my tremors. She said my name, questioningly and then as more of a demand. Almost there, I wanted to tell her, but the power of speech had left me and my more primal instincts had taken over.

  I threw back my head and cried out as my body gave way to the wave that crashed over me. Three, four, five times I rocked against her ruthlessly, grunting and moaning with each thrust of my hips. When I started my decent from the peak of my orgasm, I felt a hot, powerful stream jet into my palm and splash onto my sopping pussy. I was amazed and thrilled that I had brought her such pleasure, or I was sure that I would be as soon as I could think such higher thoughts again.

  I brushed her lips with mine before falling onto my back on the bed beside her. Panting, covered in perspiration, and sexual fluids, I closed my eyes and mentally slowed my heartbeat. Mohana was still trembling beside me and I felt her hand grasp mine almost shyly. We laced our fingers together and lay there for some time, glowing, embracing with the only body parts we could move. I gave her a reassuring squeeze and she squeezed back. A few minutes later, she squeezed my hand twice in rapid succession and I did that same in return. Then, she upped it to three. By the time we were up to four, I heard her giggle and I rolled onto my side to gaze upon the playful girl.

  "You're a rare treat, lover. Did you know that your body did that when you had an orgasm?" I murmured into her ear before nipping softly at the lobe.

  "Did what?" she whispered back.

  "You, my luscious, are a squirter, "I laughed.

  "You tell me what this mean tomorrow?"

  "I'll even show you, Mohana. Repeatedly."

  The End.

  Same Time Next Year

  Everything about our affair seemed fated: the way we met in a chatroom I had never before frequented; the way we connected within minutes thanks to an equally twisted sense of humour; and the way we went from virtual buddies, sharing the stories of our past, to real-life lovers, melding minds and flesh in a six-hour marathon of sex, rest, coffee and sex.

  It was all very innocent at first--friendly exchanges in the chatroom, newsy e-mails, harmless banter on Yahoo--but there was a raw sexuality to this man that somehow always had me sitting with my legs tightly crossed, a bitch in heat trying to quell the instinctual pounding in my pussy as I waited for him to shove his virtual tongue down my throat, grab a tit, grope my ass... something... anything.

  We were like a living situation comedy, complete with witty repartee, double-entendres, and sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. I knew that, eventually, he would have no choice but to topple. Except, as it happened, I was the one who finally cracked. I could no longer deal with how horny he made me. A woman can only cross her legs for so long before she has to spread them and finger herself to orgasm.

  Thus, it came to pass that, one night, as I was on the computer in my home office making small talk, I began driving a couple of digits in and out of my needy cunt, and I made the weighty decision to pin his virtual being against a virtual wall in an act of desperation.

  He wasn't surprised; he was shocked into near silence. Then, after mumbling (if one can mumble in writing) something about wanting me, but being in cybersex hibernation (his term: cybernation), he took off like a bat out of hell. I figured that was the last I'd ever see of him, but there he was again the very next night, ready, willing, and as I soon discovered, more than able.

  That first time we cyberfucked was a revelation. I'd had many online lovers by that point, but not a single one had made me that hot, had made my snatch that wet, had made me masturbate so furiously that I came six times in just over an hour, the climaxes so fierce that I couldn't think, speak, or even breathe afterward.

  It wasn't just that he was good with words, imaginative and evocative, it was also his very essence that spoke to me in ways I'd never dreamed. Simply seeing him write "my cock" started the pulsing in my twat, started the flow of juices down and out onto my thighs, coating my swollen lips, and started the unbearable ache in my clit, all of me crying out to be touched, filled, satisfied. And, amazingly, it was the same way every single time.

  Within a matter of weeks, I needed him to survive, not only sexually, but emotionally, as well. He was my shelter from the storm that raged outside the virtual world we'd created, whether holding me in his arms, lending an understanding ear, offering a shoulder to cry on, screwing my little brains out, eating my desperate pussy, or letting me feast on his luscious cock.

  There wasn't anything I couldn't ask of him online. Requests ranged from cumming on my face, in my hair, on my tits, on my ass, down my throat, inside or all over my cunt; to fingering or tonguing my asshole; to jerking off for me and letting me get off for him; to fucking my tits; to bending me over a variety of objects and taking me from behind; to allowing me to ride him forward and backward; to slapping my ass and pulling my hair.

  Out of the blue, one day, he gave me his very real cell phone number, and asked me to call him at work. I was extremely wary of making that call, since voice was the next level up, and I rationally knew that it wasn't a good idea to escalate things with this man. But when it came to him, rational thought had a tendency to fly right out the window. So I called.

  Our first few conversations were just that: an exchange of thoughts, insights, stories. Before long, though, I began to torture him by relating what I'd like to be doing to him. His prick would harden as he sat at his desk, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. The thought of arousing him halfway to insanity--where his whole body tensed up and his dick strained against his pants, begging to be freed--gave me a heady sense of sexual power, and made my own body crave the relief that only orgasm could provide.

  Luckily, he found a way of providing it. On lunch breaks, he'd head outside, find a quiet spot, and painstakingly describe how he'd tease me, suck me, lick me, feed me, fuck me. Driven by raw lust, I'd start off by teasing my snatch, two fingers lightly dancing around my clit, then massaging it gently, and finally, pressuring it forcefully, shoving those two fingers into my dripping hole, curling them up and around my pelvic bone, and pounding my g-spot.

  His voice fuelled me, the images he evoked made me insane, my soft moans became loud groans, mild oaths, breathless ohs and ahs, strong curses, then all-out screams as I climaxed with an intensity that made my whole being quiver. Even after he hung up the phone, I continued making myself cum every four or five minutes, until I was too spent to go on.

  From phone, we agreed to move on to cam. I didn't even feel any hesitation anymore; it was the next logical step. Because my home office door had no lock, it was too risky for me to turn on my cam while my family was around. He therefore did the showing, and I did the watching.


  After a long cybersession, I'd eagerly look on as he jerked off, initially stroking his rock hard cock at varying speeds, his head thrown back in ecstasy, then picking up the pace when orgasm neared, his face contorting, tears streaming down his face, his voice muted so as not to wake his family, his cum finally erupting in jets. Licking my lips, I'd imagine the taste of his hot seed in my mouth, or the feel of it on my body.

  While we both enjoyed this one-sided viewing tremendously, he longed to see me cum, too. But since he couldn't cam from work during the day, and I couldn't cam from home at night, he decided he'd have to play hooky so we could spend a few hours watching each other climax.

  He booked the time off work to enjoy what we referred to thereafter as "hooky day". It seemed like years before it actually arrived, and then suddenly, there I was, totally naked in front of my cam for the very first time.

  Surprisingly, it made me very shy, and it took me a while to get comfortable with the idea of showing him my bare tits and pussy. Patiently, he talked me through it, his voice, as always, rendering me mad with lust, coating my twat with juices, making me ache for him so badly that I was prepared to do anything at all.

  We gave each other a guided cam tour of our bodies, going from head to toe, and his groan was highly audible when he saw my shaved, soaking cunt for the very first time. The rest was easy: vivid descriptions of what each would do to the other's every part, my cam turned to my snatch, his cam focused on his dick as he played with it, stroked it with a tight fist, hand moving up and down the length of his shaft, precum oozing from the tip.