Hot Sex, Cool Erotica

by Bebe Wilde

  “Gil,” I said, on the verge of panicking. “I don’t like this.”

  “Shh,” he said and covered my mouth with his hand. “Be quiet.”

  I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and wanted to say something. But I didn’t. I don’t know what happened but all of a sudden, I knew that it was okay. I was getting so turned on, I no longer cared. I knew what he was doing and he was putting me in a position to surrender control and so I was. And all I kept thinking was: What would he do next?

  He rolled me over.

  His hands were all over me then, touching me, massaging me. It felt good, relaxing. Then he slipped my black pencil skirt off and threw it to the side. Now I was lying there in my underwear, feeling more than just a little vulnerable, more than just a little nervous. He’d never seen me naked before.

  But he didn’t make a move to take off my bra or my panties, a black lace set that showed off my trim body. No, not yet. He just stared at me. I couldn’t see him staring at me as my eyes were covered, but he was. I could feel his heavy gaze and that made my heart beat even more rapidly.

  “Gil,” I said, wondering why he was hesitating. It was killing me, the waiting. What was he going to do next?

  “One minute,” he said and left the room.

  “What?” I asked but he didn’t respond. A minute later, he was back in the room, standing over me. Then he bent and turned me over and pushed my hips up into the air, my elbows on the bed, hands still tied. And then I felt it, a thin, leather tipped thing. It took me a second but I suddenly recognized it as my riding crop and he was moving it down my back and to my buttocks. And without a word, he gave me a good, quick tap right across the ass. I was about to say something, but then I heard him murmur, “Shhh….”

  Shhhh… So, I was silent. I also burned with embarrassment as the crop tapped onto my skin. My face, my entire body was lit up. I didn’t know what to do. He was, essentially, whipping me with a riding crop. And then he did it again. Harder. I felt like I should tell him to stop, to make him stop. He shouldn’t be doing this to me. I wasn’t ready for something like this. This was too much for me. I was way in over my head.

  I opened my mouth to tell him to stop but something in me told me to wait, to see what he was going to do next. He gave me another lick and then another and then I began to feel it; I felt the tension, all the tension in my body, ease and then subside and then I began to moan loudly. And I began to tingle in anticipation. I waited, breathless, and wanted more. This was something I couldn’t control and I liked the feeling. He gave me a few more licks, just slight taps, then finished it off with one solid swat that burned into my skin. I forced my face into the pillow and held back a wail. Oh, but I was loving this. I was surprised. It was odd that someone like me, someone who only enjoyed sex occasionally, would like such a thing. But that’s when I realized he was doing this to get me to submit to my sexual desires and the crop was nothing more than an instrument that aided in his dominance. To let me know on a primal level that he was the boss.

  I tried not to think about it. It was a little overwhelming. And, so, I just concentrated on the pleasure I felt, the freedom and the liberation that good, hot and, yes, kinky sex can give a woman.

  He discarded the riding crop after that. He rubbed and then kissed the places on my skin where the crop had been, then turned me over onto my back. I lay there and drew in a breath as he climbed over me.

  And he began.

  He began to directly bring it out in me, this sexual being that was being held captive. His hands began to roam my body, moving over my breasts which were still in my bra and then down my stomach and then down my legs, then back up again. His hands were flat and smooth as they traced lines on my curves and as they paused to squeeze a breast.

  I was there, in that moment, and I was slowly but surely coming even more alive. I could feel the tingles starting to happen and I could feel my inner being begin to allow it to happen, to want it to happen. His hands continued to explore me, my body, resting ever so often, holding still to make me move. To make me ache for it. And I began to move, to arch away from the bed, towards his body to long for his lips, for his kiss.

  But he made me wait. He was making me cross that line into want. I had to want it; I had to beg for it and he was making sure I did. I had to cross that line, all while tied up and secured.

  Yet, I did not let any words came from my lips, no begging, no pleading. I wasn’t ready to go there yet. And, so, nothing came from him. Just silence. Just the rustle of the comforter on the bed as he moved over me.

  And then… Then he did it. He was a man and he knew how to use this to get me to take what he wanted me to have. His lips were near mine, nearly grazing them, just softly, just slightly out of reach. I found myself rising up a little and trying to meet his mouth. I was itching to touch his lips, his soft and full lips, the ones that had touched mine before. He pulled away, not letting me have it, not letting me kiss him, making me want it, making me have to have it. But I was tied up and couldn’t grab his face and pull it to mine. I could only lie there and try to get him to kiss me. And so I realized what he was waiting for and so I began to beg. I had to. I had no other choice.

  “Please,” I breathed.

  He didn’t respond and continued to tease me by almost meeting my lips.

  “Please, Gil,” I said a little louder.

  But nothing. He wasn’t giving into me so easily.

  “Please, please, please!” I moaned. “I have to have it. Please. Give it to.”

  “What?” he asked. “What do you want?”

  “For you to kiss me,” I said, waiting and wanting. “Kiss me!”

  “And then what? What do you want?”

  “You,” I said. “I want you. You! Kiss me!”

  “And then?”

  “More,” I breathed. “I want you to do whatever you want to do.” And I did. I wanted more than that, much, much more. It was there, right there and I had to take care of this need. “Please, just do it. Don’t torment me like this.”

  He paused, waiting. He had gotten what he wanted and he still wasn’t doing anything. What was I missing? Was I not doing something right? He had proven his dominance. He was in control. I was willing to do whatever he wanted. I was over this. I wanted to stop playing this game. I wanted him and I wanted him now.

  I told him, “Fuck me. Fuck me! Now!”

  And that’s all it took. His lips came down hard on mine then, almost crushing me. He pushed himself on top of me and that’s when I realized I’d crossed the line. I was ready to fuck. This was what he was waiting for, for me to be so ready that there was no way I could back out of it. And I was ready, so, so ready.

  “Mmmm,” I moaned and began to lick at his mouth, slipping my tongue in so he could suck on it then offer me his. We kissed for minutes, really, really getting into it, taking it all the way.

  His mouth then began to make its way down my body, just as his hands did and this time, he took full control. He pushed my bra aside and grabbed onto a nipple, sucking it into his mouth and biting down a little. I arched from the bed and wanted to grab his head and hold it there but I couldn’t. My hands were still tied. Then he was at the other breast, a nipple in his mouth, eating at it, sucking at it as his other hand grabbed the other breast and squeezed tight.

  I moaned with pure pleasure, with lust, wanting him, all of him, inside of me, fucking me. But not yet; he had other ideas. His head was going down, further and further down until his nose was at the top of my panties, then his teeth were grabbing and tugging them down. My legs were squeezed tightly together as they were tied, but that didn’t stop him. He was licking at me, down there, going for it. I wanted him in between my legs, sucking and licking at me.

  So, he untied the scarf that was binding my legs together and pushed them apart and in one quick motion, pulled my panties off so that I was now fully exposed. And he dove in. He licked my inner thighs all the way down to m
y knees, then back up again. He could see that I was already wet, well, more than wet; I was literally dripping. He pressed his face in between my legs. Another moan came out of my mouth and I found myself wanting my hands in his hair, playing with it, tugging at it as he began to bite and nibble at my pussy. It was swollen, so swollen now. I couldn’t take it. It felt so good and I wanted more. I was ready for much, much more. And I wanted to see him but my eyes were still covered by the scarf. When would he take that off? I wanted it off. But… Not just yet.

  His fingers were playing with me, pushing inside of me. He took his time to explore me then pushed his face into my naked pussy. I could feel his breath and I could feel his mouth eating me. I shivered and began to move with him, pushing myself onto him, grinding on his face as he licked and sucked on me.

  It didn’t take long. There was nothing I could do but come. And I came hard, harder than I’d ever come before. It might have been all the anticipation building up to this that made me erupt like that. It could have been because he was so good at it. I didn’t know what it was, but when the orgasm hit me, I was liberated. Everything ceased to matter. My body just lit up and my soul soared within me.

  After that, there was no stopping me. “You have to fuck me now,” I moaned, wanting to look at him. “Fuck me now.”

  But he stopped and asked, “Are you sure?”

  I nodded.

  He came to me, his mouth near mine, his hand again went between my legs and began to play. I moved with his hand, almost to orgasm as he pressed his lips to mine. I licked and sucked at his lips as his hands continued to play with my pussy. My legs opened wider and he settled between them, still clothed.

  “Fuck me,” I began to beg, wishing the scarf was off my eyes so I could see him. “Please, fuck me.”

  He moved away and I heard his zipper pull, then the sound of him pulling off his pants and underwear and his shirt. He was now naked. I wished I could have seen that as his body was trim and hard and muscular in clothes. Out of clothes, I was more than sure it looked even better. But then he was on the bed, back between my legs, his hard cock teasing me, sliding up and down before finding its way in.

  I gasped from the pressure of it, from the size. I gasped from the pleasure of having it in me. It felt so new, so nice, so good. It felt right.

  He took the scarf off my face as he fucked me and we stared into each other’s eyes as we did it, his forehead pressed against mine. We didn’t look away and we didn’t hesitate. We were doing it and we were doing it right. We were doing what we were meant to do with one another.

  We were in sync. My hips rose up off the bed and my lust just took over my whole body. I was so into it, I couldn’t control myself. I wanted another orgasm and I wanted his cock to give it to me. I could feel another climax deep within me, ready to be released and his cock was going to take me to it.

  He untied my hands and now they were free to roam his body as he fucked me. I felt his back, his wide and muscular back, then grabbed his face, pulling it to mine and kissing him. I had felt so constrained before but now I felt free. Now I could concentrate on what it was all about and what it was all about was the fucking.

  He moaned deeply as I rode him, as I fucked him. He was trying to hold back, trying not come. He could sense the orgasm in my body, he could tell I was about to have a big one and he was doing everything in his power to ensure it. He held on, he held me tight as I finally found the groove which would take me to heaven. Nothing mattered then. Nothing in the world mattered but doing this and getting it. I had to have it. It was coming and I could feel it, deep inside. It was making my legs numb and my heart beat fiercely. It was making me hot and sweaty, the effort of doing it, of not being able to stop. It was making me strong. It was making him weak. He was about to burst. He was about to come.

  Then I felt it. It started slow but built fast. It was coming strong. It was fierce and it was love and it was desire and it was all the things in the world I’d always wanted. It was mine! I grabbed onto it and a wail came out of me that I couldn’t control. Then he began to really fuck me and that helped me hold onto it longer. It was a big one, a big orgasm. It took me over and then handed me myself back. Then it dissolved slowly and left me feeling weak but so satisfied.

  He was pumping into me. He was coming. He was coming fast and hard with everything he had. I grabbed onto him and held him tight as he came inside me and shivered as it filled me up. He shivered, too, then kept pumping until there was nothing left, nothing left to do but fall on me and hold me tight, like he was never going to let me go.

  The first thought in my mind was, Why had I held back so much? I knew that I’d denied myself pleasure and that wasn’t right. But then it didn’t matter and I couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, it had been that good. It was everything I’d expected, everything I’d wanted. And I’d wanted it for so long. I’d needed it, too. Now I had it. And there was no going back. What had been the big deal? What was I so afraid of? It was more than spectacular. It had been everything I ever allowed myself to want. And I wanted more.

  I lay there and listened to the ticking of the alarm clock on the nightstand and felt very, very satisfied. This was what it was all about. It was just fucking. It was just sex, getting off. It was about him dominating me and me submitting. It was about being contained so I could fly free. It was fun. It was so much fun. I wanted to do it again and again.

  “How do you feel?” he asked and kissed my shoulder.

  I turned to stare into his eyes, so deep blue and said, “I feel great. It’s just what I needed. You were right about that.”

  He nodded. “Told you.”

  After he left, I wondered, What have I gotten myself into? I felt a surge of excitement combined with the dread of the unknown. But that didn’t stop me from wanting him to come back soon. And quickly. I knew I was falling for him, fast and hard. I knew I was being vulnerable and that I might get hurt. But I had to do it. I had to succumb. I had no choice. Love might hurt but I knew that living without this man would be absolutely unbearable.

  You, Me and Him

  A Ménage Erotica Short

  You, Me and Him: A Ménage Erotica Short. Copyright © 2012 by Bebe Wilde.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. For more information, email abernathyandmonroe@artrummedia.com

  Published by Abernathy and Monroe.

  eBook ISBN–13: 978-1-938107-24-5

  eBook ISBN–10: 1-938107-24-1

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  For those who don’t think three’s a crowd.

  You, Me and Him

  Something like this was bound to happen.

  It started out as an innocent fascination. He was my boyfriend’s best friend, of course. I mean, how else would this have come about if I hadn’t known him already? And my boyfriend, too, of course.

  I first met him at the club I was working at. I was DJing part-time and he came in with my boyfriend one night. I loved DJing. I loved pumping out the beats for the hoards of people that would come into the large club. I loved watching them bump and grind and dirty dance to the tunes I rocked. It was fun. It was sexy. The whole atmosphere would become so lust-filled and wanton. I just loved playing my part in it by providing the music.

  We’d never met. I knew about him, of course. My boyfriend had talked about Milo for years before he actually came into the city. He lived out on the East Coast. They’d kept in constant contact and kept promising to one day meet up and have a wild time. They’d been best friends since summer camp and blah, blah, blah. Toby told me, “You’d love him, Holly. He’s cool and really funny. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

  Cool and really fu
nny didn’t begin to cover it. Milo was the epitome of masculinity and if a person looked as good as he did, cool and funny could take a back seat, though having it all—looks, humor and coolness—wasn’t anything to sneeze at. Milo was tall, dark and handsome. Sea green eyes and short black hair. Ummm… He looked so good I could have eaten him up. I mean, I’d seen pictures of him before, but seeing him in live Technicolor glory was enough to floor a girl. I kept thinking, “Why isn’t he taken? Why isn’t this guy married or at the very least, in a long term relationship?” Well, he had been and it hadn’t worked out, as he told me later. As a result, he was taking a break. Let me tell you, I wouldn’t have minded if that break included me.

  Then again, I was in a relationship. With my boyfriend. For several years. It wasn’t like I could jump Milo’s bones, though, I have to admit, I would have. If I could have had a free pass for just one guy, he would have been it. And I mean I-T, it!

  Nevertheless, that was neither here nor there. I was in no position to even consider sleeping with him. I was in love. My boyfriend was a catch. He owned his own recording studio and surfed religiously, which kept his lean body ripped and his sandy blonde hair highlighted. He was also cool. He was tall and so cute I wanted to pinch his cheeks. He treated me like a princess. He helped me get the DJing gig I had always wanted. He was everything a girl could want and more.

  So, why did Milo catch my eye and hold it? Well, he was spectacular, too. He’d been an investment banker and, once the market crashed, had decided to do what he loved best which was playing guitar. He’d told Toby that being an investment banker had been soul draining for him and he wanted something different. Toby told him to come out West, that he could always use good studio musicians. He told him that he needed to live a little in the sunshine and get his mind off the hustle and bustle of high finance. We were only a short walk to the beach and they could surf and grab a taco from a stand. He didn’t give Milo much of a choice. It was a wonderful opportunity Toby was offering his best friend. So, why not?