Trembling, I brushed my hand against his cheek and then his lips as he kissed the palm of my hand. Everything in me went limp, and I gathered up all my bravado to kiss his verdant mouth. His hands shuddered at his sides, clenching and unclenching, but never touching me. I slid my tongue into his mouth and pulled at his curls severely, his rigid cock becoming even more stiff under his grey wool trousers. I put my lips to his ear, so he could hear the softness of my whisper.
“Do you want to fuck me, boy?”
“Yes.”
The blood in my ears became a tidal wave. “You cannot tonight.” A rush of malicious joy coursed through me. I didn’t know I could be so blatantly harsh, let alone enjoy it. I was breathing fast. The fierceness of denying him swept over me. I was so wet I could barely figure out what to do with myself. “How does that make you feel?”
He groaned softly, pressing his hardness against my thighs as he brushed his lips across my ear, sending a shudder down my spine. “It makes me want you more, Lucy.”
“Do you want to feel your hands on my body?”
“Very much.” His eyes were soft as meadows, and I could see he was in the hyper-present/completely absent place that submission sometimes brought, when the connection was especially electric.
“Beg me,” I whispered.
“Please,” he said simply. He brushed his lips against my neck, and I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head. He gently tugged at my ear with his teeth. “Please.”
“You may.”
His big hands immediately swept to my hips, squeezing the flesh beneath my dress as I slowly writhed against his hardness, taunting him with what I would not allow him to have. He pulled me still closer to him. I licked the flesh behind his ear as he shuddered. His breathing became more rapid and his eyes drifted closed in pleasure. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck! God, Lucy.”
The more the space between us deepened, the more I relished giving him the smallest promise that there could be a release for him and then pulling it away from him. I rolled onto the bed, pulling him by the hair to bring him next to me, but not quite touching my body, abruptly bringing any chance he had to get off to a sudden halt. He inhaled, bringing his face to my hair, and then kissed me deeply.
He did not press his suit, even though I would have had a difficult time at that point denying him—I was that desperate for him. As he continued to obey while never demanding, his mouth on mine, I felt a fine glimmer of sweat on my back. The longer he kissed me while lying so still and close to me without pushing his body up against mine, the more urgently I wanted him. Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I circled his wrist with my hand, bringing his hand to my pussy, pulling my panties aside as his fingers found my clit.
His hand slowly massaged my clit in lazy, unhurried circles as I arched up to better meet his touch, pulling his hair. I whispered his name in his ear as my moans became more soprano, and he drew me still closer to him, his breath warm and uneven against my neck. As I rocked against him, I could feel the muscles in my thighs becoming tighter. My head swam with unfocused desire as he steadily increased his pace. My fingers became claws as I raked his back with my nails and bit his shoulder so hard I could taste his blood in his mouth. Waves of pleasure pulsated through my pussy, making silvery sparkling lights glisten behind my eyelids. I wound my legs through his and rested on top of him. We laid entwined, and he gently kissed the inside of my hand.
When I could breathe and form thoughts again, I saw he was already giving me a soft look that spoke of more than longtime friendship. My blood rushed with emotion that was almost—but not quite—ready to be called by name.
“So, um, we’re doing this?” I said softly into his ear.
He brushed the hair out of my eyes and smiled. “It certainly seems we are.”
OUT OF THE ORDINARY
by Rose P. Lethe
Margo knew the moment Alex got home that dinner had been a disaster. Not that she had really expected anything different, knowing Alex’s family, but still. She winced in sympathy when the previously silent apartment filled suddenly with a series of bangs like gunshots: the front door swinging shut, Alex slamming his keys on the kitchen counter, Alex kicking off his thick-soled boots and tossing them in the pile of shoes beside the door.
By the time he reached the bedroom where Margo was reading in bed with her back against the wooden headboard, he’d gotten the frustration out of his system and was now just a husk of disappointment. His heels scuffed against the carpet, and his spine, usually perfectly straight and confident, had begun to hunch like there were heavy weights on his shoulders.
“You’re in bed already?” he said. “It’s barely eight.”
Their cat, Harley, who had been curled up beside Margo’s legs, greeted Alex with a happy mrrw; Margo closed her tablet case and set it aside. She didn’t say that she’d been expecting Alex to come back in a foul mood, that she’d thought it would be best if she was already prepared to comfort him with a cuddle. She only threw back the covers, startling Harley, who promptly leapt off the bed and skittered away, and held out her arms in a clear invitation.
“Aw.” Alex’s smile was wan, but it was nevertheless a smile. “You scared him.”
“You put him on edge, with all your banging around out there. Now hurry up and get into bed.”
Alex got into bed, but not before he’d stripped out of all of his clothes aside from his chest binder, white briefs, and black socks. Then he climbed onto the mattress and crawled forward until he was sprawled on top of Margo, with his cheek resting on her tank top just below her breasts. She wrapped her arms around him, stroking back and forth over the little dip just above his ass before skimming over his binder—stark white just like his briefs, which Margo had always thought contrasted beautifully with his dark skin—and tracing the notches at the very top of his spine. He was thin and bony, all sharp lines and harsh angles—very different from Margo, who was pale and curvy, not quite fat, but certainly not skinny either.
They fit together perfectly, she had always thought.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
Alex grumbled, arching into Margo’s touch. “Ugh. What’s there to say? Mom called me Ally. Dad kept treating me like a stranger. Both of them still think you’re some sort of horrible influence on me. Jackson said that I wasn’t ‘passing.’”
Margo heaved a sigh. “Your brother’s a twat.”
Alex laughed, although it was a harsh bark rather than the soft trill that Margo loved. “He is, yeah. And he gets worse as he gets older.”
True. Margo had never been able to stand any of Alex’s family, only partly because they couldn’t stand her and she believed in giving as good as she got.
Alex bent his knees and brought them closer to his chest, shifting his position until he was lying more in Margo’s lap than against her chest. Margo transferred her attention to his hair, which was shorn so short it was nearly a buzz. It tickled Margo’s palms as she raked her fingers through it, scratching at his scalp.
“Mmm.” Alex nuzzled at her bare thigh, breathing in deeply. “But let’s not talk about that. I’m tired of thinking about it. You were reading porn again, weren’t you?”
Margo blinked, her hands stilling. “Erm. Well, I got to page sixty of my novel, my mystery novel, and no one’s even died yet. So yeah, I got bored and switched to something more interesting. How the hell did you know that?”
“Because I can smell you.” Alex dragged his nose teasingly up Margo’s inner thigh until he reached her panties: a pair of solid-black boyshorts. He kissed the groin of them, right over the swell of Margo’s vulva. “Mmm. You’re wet. What were you reading?”
She’d forgotten about it, honestly. She didn’t even feel aroused anymore, although as Alex pressed another kiss to her panties, then another and another, trailing up and down the outline of her labia, she thought that could be remedied quickly if he kept this up.
“The same thing I always read,” she sai
d. Her breathing had grown labored. “Two men having very explicit sex.”
Alex nudged her legs farther apart and rolled onto his stomach between them, making a show of licking his lips. Then he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her boyshorts and inched them down her thighs. Margo eagerly lifted her hips to help.
“What sort of sex?” Alex asked. When he’d gotten her nude from the waist down, he tossed her underwear over the edge of the mattress and urged Margo to put her legs over his shoulders.
She did, although she felt awkward about it, like she was in danger of squashing Alex’s head between her thick thighs. “Oh, you know. A little of everything. When you came home, one of the characters had pinned the other to the wall of a bathroom stall and was fucking him from behind.”
Margo usually preferred her pubic hair shaved, but it had been over a week since she’d found the time. There was less than half an inch in growth, and the short tufts were soft and obedient, not the wiry mess of dark curls that would grow if she left it alone for long enough. Alex brushed his fingers through the strands, smiling when Margo’s breath caught and her hips twitched up.
“And it was hot?”
“Ohhh yeah.” Margo closed her eyes momentarily, recalling the scene. “The one needed a cock in him so badly he was practically crying.”
Alex’s smile widened. “Nice. Sounds like someone else I know when she’s in a mood.”
And with that, he lowered his head and brought his mouth to her pussy. He suckled gently at her outer labia before he parted them with the flat of his tongue and licked at her clit. It was a tiny thing, hidden entirely by its hood, so Margo needed lots of strong, concentrated attention to get it interested.
By the time it was, Margo was soaked to her thighs and even down to her ass with Alex’s saliva. She clutched needily at his head while she rocked into his mouth, dragging her clit up and down the slick length of his tongue. Her back arched, and she panted and moaned.
She could have gone hours like that—and so could he, she knew from years of experience—but that wasn’t what she wanted tonight. She wanted playful; she wanted something out of the ordinary.
“There were also,” she said, with a waver in her voice, “tentacles involved. In the story. Not, mmm, not sure if I mentioned that.”
Alex drew back—Margo had to remind herself to relax her grip—and blinked at her. His cheeks and chin were shiny with her wetness and smeared with a bit of white cervical mucous. One of his eyebrows lifted incredulously. “No there weren’t.”
Margo laughed. “No, there weren’t. But there could’ve been. I’d have read it.”
“Of course you would. Because you’re a filthy girl.” Alex laid a kiss to Margo’s mons, firmly enough that she felt the sweet pressure against her clit. Then he raised himself to his hands and knees and crawled up her body. “Was that supposed to be some sort of hint?”
“Might’ve been.” Margo slouched even lower, until only her head was still propped against the headboard, so that Alex could bring their mouths together. He smelled and tasted like her, which made her ache.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said after he pulled away, rolling his eyes although his tone was teasing.
“Yep.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and beamed at him. “But you adore me.”
The pronouncement made Alex’s expression go soft. The lingering tension in his shoulders, which Margo hadn’t even registered until now, melted away. “I do. I really do.”
And with that, he climbed off the bed and walked to the closet, where they kept their toy box.
Originally, it had been something of a joke. An impulsive purchase made just past four in the morning, when during a bout of insomnia Margo had found the idea of owning a dildo shaped like a bluish-green octopus tentacle irresistibly hilarious. She definitely hadn’t expected to like using it. The silicone was so soft it was almost squishy, which felt creepy in her hands, but in her cunt—oh, it was good. It moved with her, molded to her, didn’t jab her if she or Alex slipped and found a bad angle. Not to mention, it was thick and curved and fit surprisingly well into their harness.
Margo loved it.
While Alex got the toy clean and ready, Margo shucked her tank top and moved their lubricant within reach. Her arousal dimmed during the brief intermission, but flared again when she lay on her back cupping her vulva with one hand, sweeping her fingertips through the wetness gathered in her slit. She watched as Alex fastened the harness straps over his briefs, the tentacle dildo bobbing where it was attached.
When he was finished, he knelt on the bed between Margo’s legs, which she spread wider to give him room.
“Is this how you want it?” he asked. He rested a hand on either of her inner thighs, stroking the skin there with his thumbs. “Should I make gurgling noises like an actual tentacle monster, or…?”
Margo laughed, which quickly became a moan when one of Alex’s hands ventured higher and his fingers slid inside her and moved in a slow circle, opening her. “See if you can manage some ooze too,” she said. Her voice had gone high and quivery. “If you don’t mind.”
Echoing her laugh, Alex removed his fingers and clambered forward on his knees until he could press the tip of the toy into her.
It burned—the good sort of burn, the kind that was so close to pleasure she could hardly tell the two apart. Her head fell back, her spine arched, and she hooked her legs around Alex’s hips, drawing him close, which made the toy sink deeper. She could never get over how it felt to be penetrated. Like poking at a bruise, the stretch and the sensation of fullness were so strange yet also so immensely satisfying, although she couldn’t pinpoint why no matter how she tried.
She basked in it, rolling her hips when Alex was completely in. He planted his hands on either side of her head and leaned over her, wearing a slack-jawed expression of awe that never failed to make her dizzy with satisfaction. Her pussy clenched around the toy, which sent an ache of pleasure through her so exquisite that she groaned, her eyes drifting shut.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Alex said.
By that point, Margo had forgotten what they were talking about, and she didn’t particularly care. With her eyes still closed, she concentrated on the fullness, on how the toy’s rounded, upturned tip dragged along the walls of her cunt and hit her sweet spot with every undulation of her hips. Alex stayed still, stroking the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail while he let her work herself on his cock.
“Good?” he murmured. “Is that what you needed? A good dirty fuck with my tentacle in your cunt?”
Margo’s mouth went dry. “Yes.” The word stuck in her throat. Opening her eyes, she licked her lips and tried again. “Yes. Just—let me get on my stomach.”
She’d barely said it before Alex was pulling out and ducking out of the way so she could flip over and lie flat on her belly with her bottom up. This time, Alex paused to slick the toy from base to tip with lube before he guided it into her pussy.
The silicone was still warm, and with the lubricant, it glided smoothly in. But it felt thicker in this position—enough so that Margo’s jaw dropped and she clutched at the pillow beneath her head, letting out a long, low moan as she was stretched. When Alex was seated, his hipbones pressing into her ass cheeks, she felt stuffed full, fit to burst. It was heavenly.
“All right?” Alex asked. He held Margo’s waist, his thumbs tracing indiscriminate shapes in the small of her back. When she nodded, trying to find words, he bent forward until he was weighing her down and pinning her in place. “Good.” His lips brushed her shoulder. “My gorgeous girl, taking my cock so well.”
Margo shuddered, letting go of the pillow so she could put her hands between her thighs. She cupped her vulva, parting her labia and brushing her clit, which was hard now and peeking from its hood. When she thrust forward, it rubbed against her fingertips in a sweet, slick glide that made her toes curl and white-hot sparks dance across her vision.
Alex moved with her,
thrusting in weak pulses that not only moved his cock in and out of her, but also drove her harder into her own hand. In minutes, she was trembling and muffling her cries in the pillow.
She tried to stay quiet so she could hear Alex’s murmured encouragement—things like “That’s it” and “I don’t even have to move, do I? Look at you, fucking yourself on me” and “Oh god, you’re so hot”—but she couldn’t. She was a whore for a thick cock in her, and with the pressure on her clit building and diminishing in a steady rhythm, the sensation was heightened, transformed. There was a continual throb of pleasure in her groin, her wet cunt clutching hungrily at Alex’s cock, her clit swollen and needy.
She came with a throaty sob, humping again and again into her hand while her pussy fluttered, each clench sending waves of bliss through her so strong they made her thighs quiver.
In the aftermath, she lay gasping, moaning at every residual throb that went through her. Alex had frozen and remained that way until she’d quieted. Then he mashed his wet lips to her shoulder and asked, “Can you go again?”
Margo could, probably, but she didn’t want to. Not now, anyway. She shook her head, reaching behind her to grope at Alex’s hips and pull him closer, which succeeded in bringing his cock even deeper. So deep it made her whimper.
“You,” she told him. “Come on.”
It took a bit of coaxing to get him to stop worrying about her, but finally he gave in. He lifted his chest from her back, gripped her hips with both hands, and gave the first proper thrust. Not the weak, supplementary rocking he’d been doing, but a sharp forceful movement that plunged his cock into her cunt and then drew back until only the tip remained.
Best Women's Erotica of the Year, Volume 1 Page 14