The Mammoth Book of Threesomes and Moresomes

by Linda Alvarez

  Leaning in, I kiss her. Her lips are so soft and they part easily, her hands closing around my naked hips as she melts into me. Pressing closer, I feel her bare pussy touch mine, and the shock-pleasure is too intense, like electricity sparking over my mound. I push her down on the bed and I’m on my knees in a fl ash, between her thighs, my mouth on her pussy, my hands stroking her PVC-covered calves. Her clit rears up from the swollen folds of her pussy. I circle it quickly, before nudging it back and forth.

  “Oh . . . don’t stop.”

  The thrill of hearing her say those words lights me. I reach out and flatten her on to the bed, my hand splayed beneath her breasts, my tongue barely breaking contact with her delicious pussy.

  She lets out a cry of delight, her hips undulating. Sucking her off is hot enough to make me come, but she wants it all. Her hand lands on my head, and she pushes it up a little to lift me off. With the other hand, she clicks her fingers and moves two of them in a walking movement. I drop back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, licking her juices off my wrist while making her wait.

  She purses those gorgeous lips of hers. “Oh you’re so bad, no wonder I want you. Now get up here and 69 me.”

  Mac watches avidly, and I wonder if he’s just going to observe, or get involved. I guess I’ll find out soon enough. My heart throbs out a fierce rhythm. Climbing over her, I kiss her mouth, long and hard. Her lips part under mine as she relinquishes her strength to me.

  “Let me have you,” she urges.

  My heart aches for her, and that’s not all. Moving fast, I climb over her, turning as I do so, getting into position. The smell of leather and PVC and sex is ripe in the air. Hovering over her, I gasp when she latches her hands around the back of my thighs, where my boots end. My head drops and I breathe her in, my face between her thighs, my leather-covered breasts crushing against her. The combination of soft flesh and shiny black is so hot; my pulse thuds wildly in my groin, my nipples hard as nuts inside my corset.

  Her mouth latches to my pussy, her tongue stroking me fast. Wild fire burns through me. My mouth on her clit, hers on mine, we are engulfed in each other. We move in time, leading each other on. Even as I sink into the total delirium, I’m aware of the movement on the bed. Mac is prowling. I feel his hands on my hips; he’s behind me. When he pushes a finger into my gaping slit, I react, shoving my tongue inside Chloe.

  I hear the sound of a condom wrapper, and I know he’s going to fuck me from behind while this is happening. Chloe will be watching his cock going into me, and that makes my body squirm and my tongue move faster. Chloe’s hips buck under me, and when Mac eases his cock inside me, she answers with her own assault, as if it’s turning her on even more. She bites my flesh before ringing my clit with her tongue. Mac begins to thrust, hard and fast, filling me. Strung out on multiple sensations, I plunge my tongue inside her, my chin rubbing her clit as I do.

  I hit home, my clit throbbing and my core in spasm. I hear Mac groan, and his cock jerks, his fingers tightening on my buttocks. Chloe’s thighs tremble with pleasure on either side of my head. I lick her liquid heat as it dribbles from her, and she shudders to completion. When Mac pulls his cock free, I roll on to the bed beside Chloe, and keep her fingers loosely knotted in mine as we catch our breath.

  Mac strips off his T-shirt before he lies with us. Quietly, we explore each other with curious touches and hungry kisses.

  “Enough for you?” Mac teases, eventually.

  “No, I want to do this all night, preferably in front of the mirror.” I shouldn’t have said that. This was their party.

  “I’ve got a camcorder, if that would help,” Mac offers.

  “Oh, you say all the right things,” I tease, and smile his way.

  He gives me a subtle nod as I continue to stroke Chloe.

  She stares at me, her eyes warm with affection. “I’ve wanted to do this with you for weeks, so has Mac.”

  “Really?”

  She nods. “Really.”

  Mac kicks off his boots. “I take it we’re not going out tonight?”

  “Why spoil a wonderful evening?” Chloe purrs, fondling my breasts where they are lifting from the corset

  Mac is at my back, and he kisses my neck, grazing me with his teeth. I arch in response. “It’s my birthday next week,” he says, breathing against my skin.

  “Sure it is,” I respond.

  “Oh, it is,” Chloe confirms.

  “Do you want me to come back then, gift wrapped?”

  Mac thinks about that for a moment, and I feel his cock getting hard against the back of my thighs. “I think you should just stay with us, all week.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I say, and settle between them, and it’s right where I want to be.

  More Than a Mouthful

  Rachel Kramer Bussel

  Sometimes all I want is a good fuck – or a good suck, I’m not picky. I know that as a modern woman, I’m supposed to ask for the whole package – a kind, sensitive, man who does his share of the housework and is gentle and patient, who also knows what to do with his dick – but there are moments when his package alone will do, and the bigger, the better. I just want it somewhere inside me, anywhere to quench that seemingly insatiable, overwhelming urge, the kind that can only be satisfied by a dick that’s aching just as powerfully for me. Yes, there are times when I want to make love, to luxuriate in the sensation of skin on skin, of hard and soft, of his hands and lips grabbing me, taking me. Other times I just want it down and dirty, I want to be a whore of the highest order. Usually I get exactly what I want, but sometimes things don’t go quite according to plan. What happened last week was an example of the latter.

  I had just tried to wake long-term boyfriend, Hunter, up with a blow job. That’s one of my favourite times to suck his cock, when he’s sleeping like a baby, blissfully unaware of my intentions, and I get to take him from resting to aroused. I never feel more powerful, more full of womanly wiles, than I do when he hardens between my lips. Sometimes I just stare at him sleeping, his big body scrambling for air, loud snores wracking his frame, like he’s afraid to settle into the true peace sleep can offer. I can stroke his shoulder or even plant a soft kiss on his back without him noticing. His dick and I do our own private dance as he stays in dream world until eventually the excitement awakens him. But sometimes, my oral approaches are less than welcome.

  “That feels great, baby, but it’s OK,” he mumbled, pushing me off and turning over, the quilt clutched more tightly around him, shielding him from me. “I’ve got to get to work.” He rolled away from me, shuddering as if something utterly distasteful had just occurred, or at least, that’s how it felt to me. He rose and, without looking at me, pulled on boxers and a T-shirt and made his way across the room.

  He didn’t seem to notice the clear disappointment on my face, the way I stared up at him, not pouting, just hurt, rejected. And I didn’t say a word. I just stumbled into the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and let silent tears crawl down my face while I listened to him boot up his computer.

  I vowed that that would be the last time I’d try to wake him in such a way. If he wanted his cock sucked, he knew where to find me; by then I wasn’t even sure his was the cock I wanted to fill me up. I stormed out of the house filled with pent-up sexual frustration and anger that I had let myself fall for someone so uninterested in sex he could reject me like that. I was better than that, deserved more from the person I’d pledged my heart and body to, damn it. My anger was all well and good, but it didn’t lessen my desire to have my mouth stuffed, filled, used. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that not getting to be the good little cocksucker I can be was a deal-breaker, and if I couldn’t get it from him, I was going to find someone to give me what I craved. I’ve always required some kind of oral stimulation, always found it exciting beyond belief to let a man trace his fingers over my tongue, to lick my way along a salty forearm, to tease an inner thigh with my teeth, to suck a finger (or two) when I’m
getting fucked.

  After that first morning of stomping down the street in my tallest heels with a pout on my face, slamming things around at my office – I run my own time-management consulting firm – I didn’t stress about it any more. I felt a sense of calm wash over me. It wasn’t an obsession so much as something I knew would happen when the time was right. After all, women like me who live for going down don’t often go neglected for long.

  Plus, the more I was made to wait, the more I’d appreciate it when I finally got that fat, juicy cock in my mouth – and, boy, was I right. My chance didn’t come until four months later, an agonizing time during which I did my best to keep things cordial but never over-the-top with Hunter. We fucked, but in an understated way; we didn’t paw and claw each other when we walked in the door. We were content to wait, where we hadn’t been before. If he missed our more passionate days or thought I was in any way aloof, he didn’t say anything, which only solidified my intention to sate my hunger elsewhere.

  And elsewhere turned out to be a Caribbean cruise – a work thing, as it turned out. I was asked to speak to a group of business executives about time management. The pay wasn’t great, but since it included a free trip, and I was overdue for a vacation, albeit a working one, I figured I couldn’t say no. I did ask if Hunter could get comped along with me, but his boss said no, and part of me was relieved. I needed some time apart from him, to see who I could be without him clinging to me, a sensation that had been plaguing me since before the blow-job incident. I certainly wasn’t about to pay for him myself, and he seemed more than happy to let me go by myself – much happier than I’d have been about unleashing him on a group of strangers for a week, all trapped on a confined vehicle, save for the times we’d be frolicking on sunny beaches in skimpy outfits (even work-related cruises have their downtime).

  The week before the cruise flew by, and I gave Hunter only a kiss on the cheek as he slept through my early-morning departure. I kept largely to myself for the first two days, not wanting to get too chummy with anyone and then be caught off guard if I spied them in the audience, preparing my speech and wondering just how many hook-ups were happening onboard at that very moment. The crowd was mixed and while wedding rings abounded, I knew as well as anyone that didn’t necessarily mean anything. I hoped someone was getting some, anyway; all I had was my hand and the little clit-stimulation vibrator I’d brought with me, one I’d found worked much better with penetration than without.

  I also worked out in the gym on-board, sweating away the stress and the sexual tension, pumping iron and jogging until I returned to my room spent. When it came time to give my speech, I was mellow, focused, fully prepared and, to be immodest for a moment, I can safely say that I nailed it. I wowed them, making them laugh at all the right moments, seeing nods of recognition, smiles of excitement as I promised them that they too could have everything they ever wanted, fulfil every wish, if they only took a stronger command of their schedules. Yo u can learn to be punctual, organized and on top of things, but some of us need more training than others. I shared my own journey, and finished to a rousing round of applause, followed by a line twenty-people deep waiting to talk to me.

  After about an hour, only two people were left – two very hot guys, both tall, muscular, exuding testosterone, who seemed to know each other well. One was a redhead, his shock of bright locks glowing from the light while the other had a round, bald black head. Together they looked almost comical, but they were friends from Seattle, both in charge of their own successful start-ups, but concerned that they spent all their time on work, with little left for play. And it seemed that both of them were more than happy to ignore my wedding ring as they chatted me up. The cruise director came over and thanked me, and I figured, while I wrapped up my business with him, my new friends, Sean and Rick, would take off, but they were waiting for me when I finished things up.

  “Want to get a drink?” Rick asked, touching my arm and sending heat running along my skin. Then Sean touched my other arm and the twin forces seemed to race to meet in my centre.

  I looked from one to the other, then smiled a tiny smile, realizing that far from home, way out at sea, I was very likely about to get my chance to avenge the misbegotten blow job, to redeem my cock-sucking skills in a way I had never imagined.

  We went through the usual social niceties, save for the alcohol on my part, which surely would have helped get this particular party started. Without it, I was reminded yet again that one of us would have to make the first move, and while they were sitting on either side of me, their barstools as close as could be, neither had mentioned anything about going back to my room, or one of theirs. So finally, as I saw the last customers other than us leave the bar in favour of bingo and dancing, I turned to Rick and began stroking his sexy, bald head. “I’ve never been with a . . . bald man before,” I said, because it was true. Then I leaned forwards and kissed him, our lips meeting briefly as equals before his swallowed mine. I hoped Sean would get my silent message that kissing Rick was in no way meant to exclude him. Already, I knew I’d found the men who’d provide me with much more than the mouthful of cock I’d been craving. When I felt Sean massaging the back of my neck, his fingers kneading me there, making me moan against Rick’s lips, I knew we’d each gotten the message loud and clear.

  I was sure one of the bartenders was about to tell us to get a room, and didn’t want those I’d just lectured to about to-do lists and next-action items to see me sandwiched between two men, as hot as they were, so I extricated myself, stood up, and simply offered a hand to each of them, leading them down the hall to my suite, grateful that a quirk of fate had gotten me a king-size bed rather than a twin.

  Some women would take the opportunity to get naked with two hot guys as the perfect time to try double penetration. But I could do that with a butt plug and a big fat vibrator, and I do, often. That wasn’t what I was looking for, not tonight, anyway. I had something even naughtier in mind, and I was going to make sure they were both so turned on they wouldn’t dream of saying no. I may have been cheating, but I felt like I deserved it – plus, when would such a glorious opportunity come my way again?

  The two men followed me, as if that had been their plan all along. Who knows? Maybe it had been. Maybe they were used to taking a woman home with them together. Maybe they were the kings of threesomes and often found women who were more than willing to double team them. But I had a feeling this was as new to them as it was to me, the latter a secret I hoped to never reveal. For tonight, I didn’t want to be some sheltered girl who was trembling with nerves, at least, on the outside. I wanted to be the kind of red-blooded woman who craved not just cock, but cocks. Who was so adept at sucking them that she could take two at once, easily, one whose offers were never rebuffed because she was just that good.

  My mouth watered – as did my pussy – as the image of me with their dicks in my mouth simultaneously filled my head. There was no room in my body for the hot shame of tears I’d felt earlier that morning, even though if I tried I could feel that gentle push on my shoulder, feel Hunter moving me along as if I were some unwanted obstacle in his path to success, some annoying girl with her incessant demand for blow jobs rather than the one he’d told me was the only girl for him. I guess technically I still was; he’d said he loved me, not that he wanted his dick sucked in the morning, though to me, those two were inseparable.

  I knew rationally that his universe was the mixed-up one, because in real life, men should be drooling, begging, utterly undone when faced with a woman who can’t wait to take their cocks all the way down her throat, then wish she had more to choke her with. But be that as it may, I needed to be shown, not just told by the voices in my head, that I was the best cocksucker in the world (or at least, one of them), like the way after a break-up friends tell you to get back between the sheets straight away. To erase the sting of oral rejection, I had to get back in the game, big time.

  Soon there was a hand on each of my ass cheeks, m
anly fingers squeezing and caressing, and in the elevator, each man reached beneath my dress. Fingers on each hip slid my panties down just enough for the cool air to reach my lips before they began exploring my wetness. We were headed to the penthouse and had a ways to go before reaching the climax of our ride, and I humped those fingers back as they slid inside me while the other pair circled my clit hard with a thumb.

  I could tell they thought one particular thing was going to happen; they were going to fuck me, either together or one at a time. I was going to lie there and let them, maybe arch up into them, moan a little, have an orgasm or two. But they’d be the ones taking me, penetrating me, and I let them think that. “Face the mirror,” said Sean, his red head appearing behind mine as he pressed my hands fl at against it. Then Rick’s dark skin was before me, his fingers dipping into my already low-cut blouse, exposing my nipple. Seeing the pink bud there in the mirror made it all more real, and I was lucky that we arrived at our floor when we did, otherwise I might have been caught mid-act in front of strangers who may or not have been pleased to see a woman with two cocks in her mouth. As wild as I may be, that was for behind locked doors.

  In moments, that’s where we were. Rick turned on the radio and I moved into Sean’s arms. I wanted to take control but he had his hands on my ass, kneading my cheeks, and then Rick was behind me, lifting my dress up. Sean pulled it all the way up, then over my head. I watched it land on the floor as Rick pushed my panties down while Sean began stroking my breasts, holding their weight in his hands. I stared at his erection, hoping I’d get to see it unveiled soon. Rick’s fingers slipped between my legs and I trembled, arching against his touch despite myself.

  “What do you want, Carla?” Sean asked as he pushed my breasts together, then sucked both my nipples at once, his mouth providing both relief and a tease. It had been a long time since they’d been more than briefly caressed. What they were doing felt so good – Sean’s lips there, Rick’s fingers there – that I was hesitant to call a halt to their ministrations just so I could get down on my knees. But then I turned around to look at Rick and the outline of his dick made me gasp. It was huge, straining against the front of his pants, and I reached for it.