by Aurelia Fray
It was then my murky heart pumped to life. I was going to make this girl mine!
A fourth finger entered her tight pussy and she came. Thrashing. My fingers continued to pump within her until she relaxed onto the bed. With one last kiss to her perfect pussy I flipped Isabella over on her stomach. With my help she moved, pushing her perfect round ass in to the air. Running my fingers through her again I held my cock in one hand.
“This is gonna hurt doll.” I warned. I wasn’t stupid. My shit was big and most girls couldn’t take it all in.
“Don’t call me doll,” her voice was muffled in the pillow.
Grinning I placed my dick at her entrance. My piercing moved sending a flash of pleasure up my spine. My balls tightened. I wasn’t prepared for Isabella to push back against me. We both cried out as she impaled herself with my cock. I was balls deep in her and she clenched my shit like a vice.
I was in love with this girl.
Chapter 8
~Isabella~
His cock was in me, throbbing and filling me in all directions. Painfully he pushed in a little more and it hit deep. The balls of his piercing scored inside my body bringing another orgasm close to the surface.
Tripp grabbed my hips and a gasp pulled from me as he slid out then drove back in me. “We were built for each other.” He grunted out.
My head bobbed up and down in agreement. Puzzle pieces fit together, Tripp and I melded together. His cock in me and my pussy clutching him, there was no better completion. “I never thought I would agree with you.”
His laughter filled the room and I bucked back against him driving his cock into me. Tripp’s hands moved up my back until his hand tangled in my hair. He used my hair for leverage as he pistoned his hips. “There is no fucking disagreeing about how you were made for me.”
He was right.
His balls bounced against my body and I whimpered at the contact. His colossal pulsating cock glided in and out of me. My walls clamped, gripping him. The friction between our bodies built. My tits ached and bounced with his thrusts.
“On your knees and wrap your arms around my neck,” Tripp ordered as he slapped my ass. The sting of his slap subsided when his palm hit my other ass cheek.
Shakily I moved up to my knees. Tripp’s cock was still buried in me. My hands moved up and behind until my arms were secure around his neck. My back was lined with his front and my legs wrapped backwards around his thighs. I couldn’t hold this position long, but that fear left when he grabbed my thighs supporting my weight. With a grunt Tripp adjusted me up his cock. He held my body weight, moving me up and down. He was bouncing my pussy up and down his cock. My tits bounced with his pace. The bulbous tip of his cock hit my G-spot with each move. My arms shook and I moved my hips trying to ride him harder.
“I want to fuck you harder.” He gritted in my ear.
I moaned out his name. He let go of me and I crashed down on to the bed on all fours. Tripp pulled my hair back until my head was upwards and my neck was arched and exposed. Leaning over my body, he pulled his cock out. The pierced head of his dick moved through my folds and pushed at my sensitive clit. Bucking back I rubbed my clit against his head. He grunted and moved his cock head over my clit again. We moved in circular motions teasing each other. Tripp’s mouth landed on my bare shoulder and he kissed it tenderly just before he shoved his cock deep in to me. I didn’t have time to adjust to the length and fullness. He pulled out before barreling in to me again. My legs trembled and he pulled on my hair keeping me up. The tingling of pain at my scalp dissipated when he started to piston in and out of me. The bed rocked and our bodies slapped hard against one another. Every slide and pump built a friction that was leading to orgasm.
Taking my hand I moved it down my body until I found my clit, one flick sent a pulsating wave a pleasure through me. Playing with myself, I moved my hips back and forth meeting Tripp’s thrusts.
“Harder,” my voice projected between my gritted teeth.
Tripp pulled on my hair, forcing me to arch my back. “Can you handle harder?”
Our bodies collided together. The sound bounced off the walls. The drum beat of our bodies slapping together increased. Tripp held on to me tight as he slammed repetitively in to me.
“Fuck me Tripp,” I screamed out absorbing every thrust he drove into me.
My fingers trembled around my clit. Tripp let go of my hair and held on to my hips. Small tremors trickled through my body, my orgasm was within reach. His hand ran down my back tenderly. My body slightly stiffened when he shoved his finger in my ass. There was no hesitation in me when Tripp’s finger and cock moved in similar rhythms. My fingers toyed with my clit in the same tempo as Tripp. All the sensations were too much.
“Tripp!” My throat burned as I screamed out his name.
Tripp moved his hips, gliding his dick in and out of me until he groaned leaning over me. Hot cum filled me. He removed his finger from my ass and my orgasm kicked back up. Tripp held on to me as I became boneless in his arms. His cock drove into me one last time. He buried his jerking cock deep inside, keeping us joined as we both fell on to the bed.
Between his panting breaths Tripp placed soft kisses across my back.
“I don’t think I can call you tug anymore,” I panted into the pillow.
Tripp laughed, his cock twitching in me. “A second chance was all I needed to make the right impression.”
The bed dipped and his weight left my body. When he pulled out I whimpered at the loss. My body was raw and aching in ways I hadn’t experienced before. The cold air ran across my skin and I lifted my head to find the man that was missing from the bed. Tripp’s ass disappeared in to the bathroom. A moment later he emerged from the bathroom with a wash cloth in hand.
Flipping on to my back I sat up as he kneeled on to the bed. Tripp parted my legs and ran the warm cloth across my throbbing pussy. The look on his face darkened as he glanced up my sweaty body. I swore I saw a flash in those silver eyes.
His tongue ran across his lips as he tossed the washcloth aside. Moving over my body Tripp rested his hips between my thighs. His weight was deliciously on top of me, and it felt right. His head lowered until his lips brushed mine.
“Do you believe in love at first sight?”
I didn’t know how to answer him, but I didn’t have to. He pressed his lips against mine and our tongues collided.
In the morning, I was going to take him up on his offer with the plane ticket. I wouldn’t introduce him to Maddox but I would get to know this guy. Something told me he deserved a chance. However Tripp Rivers would only get one chance at my heart.
WICKED GAME
By Josephine Ballowe
Two weeks ago a client asked if he could eat me. I don’t mean eat me in the shove your face fiercely between my thighs manner or forcing his tongue deep inside me and licking me until I scream with pleasure sort of way.
No, not like that at all. He meant to eat me, with his teeth and jaws type of way – working his way from my fingers, up my arms, swallowing me whole kind of way. That fellow I knew was crazy and I left him right where I found him. As if I won’t need my skin anytime soon.
I’m not a judgmental person. I’ve been on my own since I was 17 – making my way however I could. I’ve had clients want to play vampires before, I’ve had men and women tie me up and spank me. I will say that by far the worst role-play was dressing up like a Victorian nanny while the CEO of large New York department store sucked my nipples while he wore a diaper. You don’t think that sounds so bad? Well, he peed in it too and I had to change him.
I’ve done all of this with no complaints and I’ve done things most people would never understand. But I believe there is a need for people like me. I keep marriages together and keep men sane. Really, I do. Without me, wives would have to play these games – and if they didn’t they’d have very discontented husbands on their hands. And that is never a good thing. I provide security and connubial bliss around the Big Apple –
a necessary outlet for whatever scratches your itch. In fact, doing the most perverted acts is how I make my money – and pretty good money at that.
Last night an older gentleman with an upper class accent wanted me to meet him at bar in a rougher part of the city. His request was that I only to wear a knee length red coat – yes indeed, he specified the color red – and nothing else underneath. He also requested that I have at least “a moderate amount of pubic hair”. I guess the old guy was old school, I don’t know. Lucky for him I was late for my Brazilian.
I caught a cab to the bar, fully nude under my coat as requested. He called my cell phone as the cab pulled up and insisted I unbutton the coat. I was to “inadvertently” flash the patrons then shower him with attention and occasionally expose myself. Sounds simple, right? In my business, my priority is to do whatever the client likes and wherever they want it done. Flashing a few drunks was easy money for sure.
He was easily recognizable; he wore an ascot for fuck’s sake. This guy had slicked back hair and shiny black shoes and looked very uptight and particular. Easy money, I kept saying to myself, easy money.
I breezed through the circular door, unbuttoned, nude, and hairier than I’d like my pussy to be. The room was chilled, the breeze from the door blew open my red coat and a few men noticed the pale skin of my breasts peaking from under my coat. I don’t have big breasts, but I like them small. To be honest, men don’t care about the size – they think they do but I’ve had enough threesomes to know they like the natural feel far more than giant saline bubbles stitched under your skin.
Like a gentleman, he rose to greet me and direct me to the table. Or so I thought. “Don’t speak,” he instructs with his stilted and strange voice. Though he must be older than my father, I find his voice stimulating. His hand reached under my coat and cupped my breast. His breath was hot and sweet.
He rolled my nipples between his fingers and pinched them as we walked to the table. It will take way more than that if he wants to make me flinch. As we are stood near the bar, one of the pool players looks at me, intrigued by our little public sex game. My nipples became so firm that I was surprised they didn’t rip their way from under my coat. I look at the smiling bartender and feel my pussy dampen and moved my client’s hand from my nipples down to my cunt. I push myself against him, rubbing myself against his hand. He withdrew immediately.
“I won’t touch that now,” he said.
“What do you mean by ‘that’?” I answered, somewhat offended.
He kept silent but led me to the backstairs by my nipples. A low growl comes from his throat. I must be crazy – what kind of man can growl like an animal? “Downstairs,” was all he muttered in a guttural deep voice.
“Wonderful,” I answer. I mean, whatever floats your boat.
As we descended the stairs, a strange thumping music assaulted my body. The low bass changed the rhythm of my heart – this wasn’t ordinary techno music. This was something eerie, like the music from a horror movie.
As soon as my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw men and women in various state of arousal. A young raven-haired woman was chained to an iron table; her nipples were being sucked by two older women dressed in crimson robes on either side of her. Between her legs was a man pounding into her with such force I thought the chains would break. But none of that freaked me out. What freaked the shit out of me were the bags of blood hanging from the ceiling in IV bags. The man whose cock was pounding the girl’s pussy right out from under her was drinking the blood from a tube as he moved. He was greedy, gulping and sucking like an animal. I think the blood turned him on more than the girl.
“What is going on here?” I calmly asked my client. I remained calm because rule number one in my business was to never seem afraid.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” he answered. I looked around the room at the whips and tethers. “They won’t hurt you either,” he added. “But, I would ask that you take your coat off now. This is for pleasure.”
“For pleasure?”
“Yes, our master’s pleasure. The leader of our demonic race. The One we follow before all others.”
“I’ve had enough,” I stated. “Nothing in our agreement stated anything about ‘demonic races’ – I don’t play that rough, usually. At least not the first time.”
“Lisbette,” he began, “there can be no agreement between me and you, for you are one of us.”
“What? Who the hell is Lisbette? My name is Elizabeth, asshole.”
“Perhaps that is what you were told as a child. Perhaps that is what everyone on earth calls you and perhaps that is what you believe. But what you are is a succubus. And I am privileged to be the one who brought you home.”
“Okay,” I said, as I got more and more irritated. “If we are going to play this succubus game and drink this obviously fake blood, your evening is going to cost a lot more!”
“This is no game, Lisbette. This is who we are. This is who you are. Now you have been found and returned to us.”
“Listen!” I screamed. “I’ve been in sex dens before, none of this shocks me,” I lied. “But we need to renegotiate our financial arrangement ASAP or I’m out of here.”
“Lisbette,” he growled. His voice rumbled deep inside his chest. “You will stay. There is no ‘out of here’. You are here now, you are one with us. And finally, there is no arrangement.”
A redhead approached me with a pair of latex panties. “Here, Malcolm.” She never met his eyes. “These are for her.”
Malcolm’s eyes widened as he saw that on the inside were not one, but two heavy rubber dildos. He watched as Persephone poured lube all over the dildos and pointed for me to step into them. She pulled them up for me, sliding one into my cunt and the other into my ass. I gasped as the dildos settled into place, I felt filled to the limit. Next she pulled out a metal bar, three feet long with shackles on the end. She looked at Malcolm for his approval and he nodded. At that point it sounded silly to call him client, I didn’t know if this was a game or if it was real life.
Persephone expertly buckled my legs into them, leaving them spread as wide as they would go. Then I was led to a wooden table and ordered to lie down.
“Now,” he whispered as a small crowd of masked onlookers gathered around. One man was stroking another man’s cock as I lay on a wooden table. Persephone began to suck on Malcolm’s hard cock. Her hands reached behind and she spread his ass cheeks, gently fingering his asshole. When Malcolm was about to climax, staring down at me with my legs spread, Persephone stopped sucking and fingering him.
“This is what the we have been waiting for.” She brought out a large whip, four feet long of plaited leather, and let it trail lazily behind her. In a flash of ecstasy she forced the handle of the whip into her pussy. She climbed onto the table and stepped into the large space between my legs. She situated herself between my legs and began grinding against my latex panties, shoving the dildos in further as she rode me scissor style.
“Get off her, Persephone. Stand back,” demanded Malcolm. “You’ve never had this before, have you?” I realized his voice was not so much upper class Bostonian but more Satanic – deep and low.
I shook my head wildly. Truth is, I have been whipped before and it’s no big deal. But, I had always been in control before. With this group, I had no idea what to expect.
Persephone pulled my hair and tied a gag ball into my mouth. I began to bite down on the gag with anticipation. The sight of men and women watching me turned me on beyond belief. I never thought I was an exhibitionist, and I thought I had done it all. I was ridiculously wrong about that.
I tried to squeeze my legs back together but the bar kept them far apart. I didn’t know whether to fight or to enjoy.
Malcolm smiled as Persephone’s breasts swung side to side, a heavy chain pulled on her nipples. His face showed his pleasure in knowing he could do absolutely anything to anyone.
Persephone took the whip from her wet pussy and passed it to
Malcolm. He cracked the whip inches away from my thighs, close enough that I felt the air move around me.
Persephone grabbed the whip from him. “Let me show her how this works.”
I was pulled from the table and placed in front of it.
Fucking A, I thought. Now some psycho bitch is going to whip me. And guess what? She did. She left a harsh red stripe across the lower part of my backside. I jumped, I had played with many whips before but this one was different – it left a cooling sensation not a harsh pain, and also the marks faded quickly with immense pleasure.
Malcolm touched my ass. “Lisbette…you are truly her…” He touched the fading welt and kissed it, feeling the slightly raised skin on his tongue. I twitched under his touch, surprised how much I enjoyed this. A woman to my right began to orgasm as a short demon licked her pussy, nibbling her clit – sucking it into his mouth and then releasing it. Her orgasm brought a shower of cum across my arm. Malcolm raised the whip again; my ass shook underneath me waiting for the moment of pain and release. He quickly snapped the whip right where the dildo was entering my pussy. I cried out with pleasure. Believe me, yelling in pleasure is very unusual. I am usually a pretty quiet fuck.
I felt energized and alive – I was on sensory overload. Malcolm pressed his stiff cock against my ass, he leaned over and his chest was hard against my back. I looked at him over my shoulder and saw guilt cross his face but I managed to nod and barely smile to show him it didn’t matter. I was too wrapped up in my own pleasure.