by Various
Later, after we’d both been aroused and slaked again, she asked me, ‘No more figging, please, Justine?’
‘No more, ever?’
‘Well, not for a few days.’
‘Very well.’
‘Unless I ask for it, of course.’
‘Ask?’
‘Beg, I mean, Justine.’
‘You’re learning.’
She blushed and lowered her eyes. ‘Thank you, Justine.’
On the day that Cynthia was due back, I had Babs wear nothing but the bottom half of a pair of eau-de-Nil satin pyjamas. I spent better than two hours playing with the girl’s nipples. By noon they were tender, proud, dark and swollen, unlike their usual pink buttons.
Cynthia arrived wearing a bush hat and a slub silk safari suit with a micro-skirt and knee boots by Ferrier and Carmichael. She has a certain style, that one. I left Babs back in my lobby, in shadow, and opened the door.
‘How is she?’ Cynthia blurted. ‘Has my bratty baby been too much for you?’
‘By no means,’ I assured her. ‘She’s been an absolute angel.’
Cynthia frowned. ‘Where is she then?’
Without raising my voice I said, ‘Come and give Cynthia a nice big kiss hello, Babs.’
Babs sauntered by me with some care. Her pyjama pants were tied low around her hips. One false move would have had them off her.
Cynthia’s eyes widened. ‘Why are you dressed like that?’ she demanded. ‘You know how I like you to dress.’ She rounded on me. ‘What have you done to my Babs? Have you spoiled her?’
With a wry grin, I told her, ‘I told you she’d be subject to my discipline, and you agreed. I promised you that you wouldn’t find a mark on her, and I kept my word. Show her, Babs.’
Simpering, Babs sucked her tummy in. Her pants slithered to her feet. She stepped out and did a little pirouette, displaying pristine pink skin from her head to her toes, except for her engorged nipples.
I said, ‘She’s a darling girl, now, Cynthia. Aren’t you going to give her a kiss?’
Cynthia hissed at me, speechless for once.
‘Well, someone should greet you with a kiss, so I guess I’d better.’ I took a step towards her. She raised her hands defensively. She’s pretty strong for so slender a woman but I’m stronger. I took her wrists in my hands and doubled them up behind her back, dragging her in close. She resisted my kisses at first but she’s a horny bitch and the chances were that she hadn’t been laid for almost a month. Her lips surrendered, reluctantly at first, but then with abandon. While I ravished my friend’s mouth, Babs obeyed the instructions I’d given her earlier. She knelt behind Cynthia, put her hands up her skirt and tugged her panties down to her ankles.
‘What is she doing?’ Cynthia squeaked into my mouth.
‘Relax.’
Babs unwrapped the figg I’d prepared, twice as thick and half again as long as the one she’d enjoyed, and worked it up into her erstwhile Mistress’s bottom.
‘What?’ she gasped. I didn’t respond. ‘It’s cold,’ she complained. ‘No – it’s kind of warm. Tingly. What on earth? Oh – that’s . . .’
‘When you’re ready to surrender to me, absolutely, I’ll put an end to your torment,’ I told her.
‘Never! You can’t . . . Oh fuck! Oh my . . .’ She sagged in my arms, straddling my thigh and humping at it.
I let her. It wouldn’t help and the figg had only just started to work.
– Justine, Ontario, Canada
Car 371
‘You know, you are a very pretty lady.’ His accent was thick and he rolled his Rs. ‘That’s why I always come when you call,’ he said.
‘Oh, thanks,’ I said, barely paying attention as I continued to primp in the back of the taxi.
I was becoming agitated by how slow he was driving, but I guess it was to be expected when he was clearly distracted by the view in his rear-view mirror as I adjusted my cleavage. I was on my way to see Marley again. She was a woman in her late 40s whom I had met on the chat line. She had moved here from Trinidad a couple of years earlier with her husband who she referred to as ‘Money Bags’. She admitted to being with him for the financial stability, and because ‘when you’re pushing fifty, you need a husband’! She was bi and I was her new dirty little secret. I had been with her twice before and found her to be a lot of fun both in and out of the bedroom. She loved to get all dressed up and go bar-hopping and end the night at the local motel eating each other out, and, so far, each time that we had gotten together, she had brought me a gift.
‘Sexy girl,’ the Indian driver slurred while eyeing me in his mirror.
I just smiled, wondering if he knew what I was up to that evening – maybe he could sense how horny I was. My cunt was already on fire just thinking about Marley and her beautiful big black tits.
As we pulled up to her house, I was surprised to see her husband in the driveway; it was obvious he had just arrived home. ‘Shit! Keep driving!’ I yelled out to the cabbie.
‘Why? What happened? Where do you want me to go?’ he asked confused.
‘Just stop up ahead for a minute,’ I barked, upset that I might not get my fix for the night. ‘I’m sorry. Just keep the meter running, please, I need to wait here for a bit.’
‘What are you waiting for?’ he turned to ask.
‘It’s a long story. Can we just wait – please?’ I said, trying Marley’s cell phone.
There was no answer, but I was so horny that I wasn’t going to give up so easily. I decided to wait a while in case she called back or in the event that her husband left. We waited there in darkness for over half an hour, and my increasing disappointment was obvious. The driver continued to compliment me and make sexual innuendos. I had to give the man kudos; he was older, quite heavy and had the tiniest little eyes under his large glasses – definitely nothing to look at. Each minute that passed without a call from Marley, the more pissed off I became, and the driver’s incessant grilling was not helping.
‘What did you have to do here that was so important that we have to wait so long?’ he asked for the umpteenth time.
‘I was supposed to hook up with somebody, all right?’ I snapped. ‘I’ve wanted to see this person all week and now it’s not gonna happen, so my entire night is wasted!’
‘You know what I like to do to feel better?’ His eyes grew beady.
‘No. What?’ I asked, still frustrated.
‘I like to go get a motel room with a young girl,’ he said.
Amazed by his brazenness, I asked, ‘Didn’t you say earlier that you’re married?’
‘Yes. So what? It makes me appreciate my wife more,’ he insisted.
‘Yeah, OK. Where do you get these young girls?’ I asked, not really believing that he was capable of finding sex.
‘Usually they are girls like you. I meet them here, and they know that I am a nice man who can make them feel good, so they come with me to motels. Sometimes, if they need some money, I give them something . . .’
‘Oh, so they’re hookers.’ I smirked.
‘No, just nice girls like you. Sex feels good, and I make good sex. I can make you feel good too. Let’s go to a motel and I will show you,’ he said, very seriously.
I looked at him for a moment: his large pursed lips, big hands and the beads of sweat that were forming along his brow.
‘OK, let’s go,’ I said.
‘To a motel?’ he asked nonchalantly.
‘I didn’t say that. Let’s leave here – I’m getting cold,’ I said, actually contemplating having some kind of sex with him in my desperate state.
‘Come sit at the front, closer to the heater,’ he said. I knew that making sure I was warm wasn’t his only agenda, but I got out and moved to the front. As I slid into the car, my coat caught underneath me, opening and revealing a glimpse of my legs and my indecently short skirt.
‘Drive back to my place, please,’ I asked, deciding that I couldn’t possibly go through with it.
&n
bsp; He stared at my legs for a moment before finally saying, ‘I will not charge you the fare if you let me touch your beautiful legs.’
I’m not sure if it was so much the free ride – that had gotten quite costly after sitting outside Marley’s for so long – or if it was something to take the edge off the evening’s disappointment. I had been so horny all day thinking about having my cunt licked. I looked at him and nodded, and he quickly moved his hand to my thigh. He squeezed the flesh and let out a moan, then slowly began inching his hand up my leg, moving the skirt with it, until my panties were showing.
‘OK, that’s enough,’ I said, only I didn’t push his hand away.
‘Please, Miss, just one more minute. You are so sexy,’ he pleaded, squeezing harder.
‘Fine.’ I tried to sound uninterested even though my cunt was beginning to tingle.
His big hand continued kneading my meat, and each squeeze was followed by a groan or deep breath. I watched as his hand inched closer to my cunt and I didn’t protest.
His fingers began toying with the trim of my panties. He ran his finger between the edge of the elastic and my skin and, as his fingers began to make their way under the fabric, he looked at me as if waiting for a go-ahead. I made eye contact with him briefly and went back to looking down at my lap, wanting him to continue. My cunt had been aching to be touched all day, and I was at the point that I didn’t care who touched it.
His other hand pulled my panties to the side, revealing my swollen lips that were already glistening wet. He used his big middle and index fingers to rub my slit, pressing hard while looking for my clit. I spread my legs a bit further apart causing his fingers to slip in between. When he hit my clit I couldn’t help but gasp and push my crotch against his hand, it was feeling so good. He rubbed my clit softly, as if trying to tease it, and then leaned in to kiss me.
‘No kissing!’ I hissed, completely repulsed by the idea.
‘Can I see your breast?’ he asked.
‘OK,’ I said, feeling bad for having yelled.
He watched hungrily as I pulled the neckline of my sweater down and my bra cup with it, revealing my tit. My nipple hardened the moment that it felt the chilly air in the car and, without hesitation, he took it in his hands and brought it to his mouth. I didn’t even have time to protest before he was lapping away at it sloppily with his big lips. My cunt continued to soil my panties. He licked and sucked my nipple and then pulled at my top until my other tit was exposed as well.
His mouth alternated between both boobs causing my insides to flutter and my clit to get so hard that it hurt. He stopped for a second, startled by the lights of a passing car, but I pushed his head back to my bosom. I didn’t care that I was in that cab, with my tits out in plain view. Getting off was all I cared about. I reached down and started to rub my clit while watching his mouth slobbering about my tits. The way he moaned and groaned while taking in my flesh really turned me on – he was desperate for me and I loved it!
When he noticed me rubbing my clit, he seemed to go into a frenzy, pushing his face even harder into my chest, and squishing my tits between his pudgy fingers. He had to be as horny as I was. I closed my eyes and leaned back into my seat and fingered my hole hard and fast. I was close to coming when I heard him moan really loudly and looked over to find him stroking his cock furiously.
‘Touch it. Touch it!’ he commanded, grabbing hold of my hand and plopping it down onto his hard dick. It was short and chubby, and the head was wet and sticky. I tried to pull my hand away, but he kept a firm hold on it and made me stroke it, and at the same time resumed sucking on my nipple.
I could feel his cock growing and pulsing in my hand, and soon my repugnance contributed to my arousal. The entire thing was so dirty and disgusting, and yet such a turn on. I kept pumping his cock with my fist and his moans intensified. I thought he was surely on the verge of coming when he said breathlessly, ‘Let’s go to a motel. Please. Please. I want to fuck you. Please, I can give you so much pleasure!’ he begged.
I almost considered it, but decided against it. I was horny and didn’t want to stop to go look for a room. I also had no desire to spend more time with him than needed. I was close to getting my fix and didn’t need a bed to get it.
‘No, just move the car over there,’ I said, pointing at the park across the street.
As he drove, I resumed giving him a hand job, until we were parked. ‘Let’s go into the back,’ I said, anxious to finally come.
We jumped in and out of the car quickly and, once in the back seat, I pulled my skirt right up and held my panties completely off to the side so my swollen cunt was right there, ready for him to do as he pleased. ‘Hurry up,’ I insisted.
With one swoop, his trousers went down, and he kneeled between my legs, holding his stump that was surrounded by a large mound of black hair that I hadn’t noticed earlier.
He held his cock and slapped it about my wet tuft, trying to find my hole. The feel of his cock against me caused my insides to shudder. Frustrated at not being able to find my hole because of the awkward angle, he used the other hand to spread my lips apart, hurting me with his roughness. His head finally pushed its way into me. I hadn’t realised how thick his cock was until it filled me. Our crotches pounded together, and I could hear the sound of his balls slapping against me. His cock started to vibrate inside me, and his thrusts grew closer together, until he began to cry out in a language that I didn’t understand. I wanted him to hurry up and come so I could too, so I fucked him even harder, squeezing my cunt and gripping his dick hard.
He pulled out of me and I thought he was going to blow his load over my cunt, but instead he straddled me, grabbing my hair and bringing my face up to meet his cock. I didn’t even know what was happening until I felt his come shoot on to my face. I wriggled, trying to get free of his grip, while his cock kept spewing his milk until it was dribbling down my cheeks and chin.
‘You stupid fucker!’ I screeched. As I went to get up, he moved back between my legs and grabbed my hips, pulling my body up towards him. His tongue pushed into my hole and began darting in and out quickly and, instead of pushing him away, I grabbed his head, holding it even harder against my pussy, finding just the right spot. As I tilted my head back, feeling the walls of my cunt begin to quiver, the come that he had shot on my face began to slide into my mouth, causing me to gag. He didn’t care and continued to work my clit with his tongue. The sensation was enough to drown out everything else, including the cold goop that had made its way down my throat, and I finally came – and hard.
The moment the throbbing within subsided, I immediately jumped up. ‘Let’s go,’ I commanded, pushing him towards the front.
He didn’t say a word as he put his cock back into his trousers and got settled back in the driver’s seat. I took a tissue from my pocket and wiped the disgusting semen off my face as we pulled away.
When we reached my building I got out and, as I was about to close the door, he thanked me and asked if he would see me again. I didn’t reply and just left, knowing very well that the next time I called a cab, he would turn up.
– A. C., Lincolnshire, UK
The Invisible Woman
Nervous of my own daughter? Sure. But also excited. I’d not seen her for nearly two years. A long time for a mother not to see her oldest kid. You might think it but, before you do, no, we hadn’t fallen out. She’d been in Australia, that’s all. She went there straight after school, hardly took a breath, been badgering about it for years, couldn’t wait to leave home. For heaven’s sake, who can blame her? I’d have done the exact same thing at her age, been off to the sunshine like a bullet.
Her adoring uncle paid for it all, met her in Sydney and then up she flew to Cairns and the Great Barrier Reef. She was terrified of water when she was little. Now she’s done the lot. Scuba diving, swimming with dolphins.
Hardly a foreign country, but still. The other side of the world. And the house was so silent when she was gone. I’ve s
till got her younger sisters. But Patsy’s the noisy one. Actually it was a relief.
You may as well be invisible, the mother of a stunning daughter. A stunna, as they’d probably call her down under. Not a comfortable feeling, especially when you know you’ve let yourself go.
So I made a pledge as soon as she was gone. A pledge to myself.
We used to be mistaken for sisters. Maybe people were being polite, you know, taxi drivers, college lecturers, but she had the same ripe curvy jailbait bod I had at that age. She was very precocious. Or is it promiscuous? Easy to get those two descriptions mixed up.
The photos say it all. There’s me trying too hard to recapture myself, I can see that now, gripping at her shoulders, grinding my cheekbones against her matching face. Matching auburn hair. My lips fuller than hers. Her green eyes more slanted than mine. Patsy parting her red mouth to extend a curled wet tongue, practically giving the camera a blow job. Jutting her pert new breasts. Waiting to bolt.
By the time she went off to Australia we barely communicated. Not arguing, just never colliding. I was invisible. We no longer looked alike, but that was my fault. I found myself staring at my sex-bomb daughter, wondering, now she was grown, what the boys did to her cute body, whose dirty little hands and mouths and dicks groped and poked and licked at her, wondering if she enjoyed it half as much as I used to.
While I stared at her, everyone else stared through me.
At the airport when we waved her off she already looked Australian with her blonde hair in braids. Tiny khaki shorts creeping up her butt. A backpack and a bruising attitude.
And I looked – well, four stone heavier, for a start.
‘You got the country wrong. It should be Austria,’ Steve joked as we hovered at passport control. People glanced at her big strong legs, her Jessica Rabbit tits. I was invisible.
‘Why?’ She stuck her nose up, addressing him, as always. Never me.
Steve flicked at one plait. ‘Fräulein.’
We all knew he was joking because he was upset. She turned her back to whisper something to her little sisters. The envy in my stomach twisted harder. The admiring looks, the announcements, the tickets, the promise of somewhere more exciting to go. And my three daughters in a huddle. That was the day the little ones started to grow up.