He stopped spanking me and began fingering me, and I was quite embarrassed about how wet I was. I was so distracted that I practically jumped out of my skin when I saw Tom standing in front of me, his trousers and pants round by his knees, his cock out. His pubic hair was black, and the hair spread onto his stomach and thighs. He was hard and muscular, unlike the soft bulkiness of Mike. His face was set, his jaw clenched. He wasn’t looking at me, but behind me, at Mike.
‘Do her up the arse,’ Tom said.
I felt scared then, of the tone of his voice, and of the way Mike grabbed hold of my hips with no trace of his old gentleness. I felt the tip of his cock pressing up against me, then it being forced inside me. I wanted to lie down, make myself more comfortable, but Mike’s hands and forearms were locked around my hips and thighs, and I couldn’t move.
He pushed himself all the way in, and I couldn’t help it: I cried out. Tom stepped forward and thrust his cock into my mouth. It took all my concentration not to gag as he pushed it in as far as he could, and at the same time, Mike pulled almost all the way out and then pushed in again, forcing his way in all over again. I willed him to stay in, to pull back just a little, and then go in again gently, like he had last time, so that I only had to endure the head of his cock entering me once. Once it was in, it was OK, it was the entering that was the worst, but this time he put me through it again and again at every thrust.
Tom held my hair and forced his way in and out; I wanted to pull back, away from him, but that only pushed me further onto Mike, so I had nowhere to go.
‘Swap.’ Tom’s voice sounded hoarse. I was released, and I whimpered as they let me go. I tried to shift position a little; my knees and legs were aching from holding myself as still as possible. I only had a few seconds reprieve before they started on me again, and this time it was Mike’s cock in my mouth, and Tom behind me. They were both faster this time, pushing and thrusting faster and faster, and I knew they were both close to coming. Mike rested his hands on my shoulders and I concentrated on sucking him as nicely as I could, running my tongue over and around the head of his cock, how he liked it. I concentrated hard on keeping up with his rhythm, and it helped distract me from the discomfort I felt from Tom’s cock, which was rubbing me and making me sore.
At the same time, Tom filled me up inside in a way that was frightening and exhilarating all at the same time. The tip of his cock touched sensitive areas inside, and although it felt uncomfortable, and even dangerous, to have him fucking me that way, the sensation made me feel like I was going to come. It felt good to be entered that way, it put pressure on different parts of me inside, and being so stretched and so filled up made me feel taken in a way that straight sex couldn’t come close to.
I relaxed into Tom then; my body stopped fighting and just allowed it. As I relaxed, I tasted Mike coming in my mouth, and then two seconds later Tom came inside me, and I felt his hands on my hips, drenched in sweat, his thighs wet against me.
They left me on the bed and got dressed. My legs felt wobbly and full of cramp and, undignified as it was, I stayed on all fours for a few moments, waiting for the feeling to return to my legs before I moved.
That was five or six months ago now, and it’s been like that ever since. Mike isn’t quite as distant as he was, but there’s been no return to the friendly banter we used to have. It’s as if, since Tom’s been actively involved, he sets the tone, and he’s always been a bit scary. Or maybe Mike just started seeing me as a whore, instead of a woman, and behaves accordingly. And who can blame him, because, after all, that is what I am.
* * *
One day, during a quiet period, I was out the back, doing a bit of dusting and making the beds, when Julie came in.
‘Are you ready? I’ve got someone at the desk. I’ve not seen him before, but he seems all right. He said he was a regular of Splash, before it got closed down. Said he was gutted about it. So, maybe if you’re lucky you’ll have a new regular!’
‘OK, give me two minutes. Thanks, Julie.’
In my room, I took off my robe and checked myself in the mirror. I was wearing new, outrageously expensive black Agent Provocateur underwear: fifties-style push-up bra, sheer knickers, a suspender belt and black fishnet stockings. I watch what I eat, but I’ve always had curves, and that style suits me. I brushed my hair, which was past my shoulders and a lovely golden colour, having just been highlighted. I put another coat of lipstick on, dabbed some powder on my cheeks and sprayed myself with perfume. Finally, I slipped into my heels: impossibly high silver stilettos with glass platform heels.
I sat down on the bed and waited, my stomach turning over in excitement and my hands prickling with nerves. I heard footsteps in the hall. I said my mantra in my head, this is my husband of six months … even though I didn’t need to anymore. The door opened, and Julie’s face appeared, and behind her a familiar face, wearing an expression I’d not seen before. It took him a second longer to recognise me, and by the time his face had absorbed the shock, Julie had closed the door on us. I sat on the bed, unable to move or speak. Steve appeared to visibly collect himself. He cleared his throat.
‘Well, Caroline, what have we here?’ He took off his jacket, walked over to me and sat down on the bed beside me.
A Brief Encounter
by Teddy Masters
The train rocks as it pulls away from the station. I stumble occasionally as I move down the corridor towards the first class carriage, looking for my seat. I find the compartment, slide open the door and walk in. I smile at the other occupant of the compartment, a woman with long brunette hair, hazel eyes and a beautiful smile … you …
I turn and place my case up in the racking and can almost feel your eyes burning into my back … I turn again and that smile dazzles …
I slide into my seat opposite you, the table between us holding your bag and a book … my foot brushes yours as I shuffle towards the window. I apologise but you brush it aside with a quiet voice, a slight accent … not American, Canadian I think … ‘Don’t worry,’ you say and smile again …
I settle back in my seat, look out of the window but soon get bored. I turn my head to find you looking at me, a faint smile on your full red lips … I get the feeling you don’t mind me looking back at you and I smile too, my blue-grey eyes travelling slowly down from your brown ones, down over your nose, your lips, down over the curls of hair hanging lightly around your shoulders … You’re wearing what looks like a cashmere dress, brown, a wrap style (Diane von Furstenberg maybe …), simple, classy, elegant lines, the wrap as it crosses your chest emphasising what seems to be a deep and firm cleavage, your breasts carried high on your chest …
My eyes travel back up and meet yours again … you seem amused by my appraisal, but not offended, and a mischievous hint of a smile seems just to curl the corner of your mouth …
The train rocks again, lurches, and your bag tips over on the table, spilling some of the contents on the surface, a few items scattering and a couple falling off the edge, onto the floor and rolling under my legs … ‘Let me,’ I say as I slide from my seat … I crouch down, thanking the train driver mentally for my opportunity to continue my visual discovery of you and your clothes …
My hand gropes, blindly, for the items that fell to the floor and my eyes can’t help but be drawn to the sight of that dress, stretched tightly over firm, shapely thighs and just down over your knees … or be drawn to the sight of your legs emerging from under the brown cashmere, encased in very pale beige nylon … or is it silk …? It glistens as your legs move so, yes, silk I think … elegant calves, neat ankles and feet in pale brown heels … my eyes are transfixed as you lean over to see if I am having any luck retrieving your property, and as you lean over your legs move slightly and my eyes are drawn to a hint of lace halfway up your thigh as the wrap parts slightly … you’re wearing stockings … oh god …
My fingers finally close on your belongings … one, two, three items … I gather them together, tearing m
y eyes from your legs, and straighten up again, holding the things out to you and my fingers unfold … opening my palm … my eyes meet yours, yours open slightly wider, your lips part and that faint mischievous smile plays over them again as you see what I’ve picked up … I drop my eyes down to my hand and my eyes widen as I see a tube of scarlet lipstick, a bottle of pink nail varnish … and what looks like another lipstick, except for the tiny knurled base and the shiny, gold body … and I realise what I am holding and pass it over quickly, smiling almost guiltily at you … Your lips part again and your tongue just flickers lightly over them, that smile again … You laugh and say, ‘Thank you, I’ll be needing those in a while.’ My eyes widen further as I realise what you said …
You replace your things in your bag and make a small show of doing the clasp up this time, before settling the bag on the seat beside you. I see you shift slightly in your seat, feel your leg brush mine and your eyes gaze at me …
It seems as though you have returned your attention to your book and I look through the window at the scenery rushing by, the open Suffolk fields, the hedges, the rivers and dykes … I hear a faint knock on the floor, my ears wondering what that could be … Had I missed something when I was looking for your things earlier …? Then I feel it, the unmistakable trace of a soft toe grazing my calf as it probes beneath the hem of my trousers … I look at you again, that smile still playing on your lips and that mischief definitely flickering in your eyes … The knock must have been you slipping your shoe off and now I can feel your foot slide back out from under my trouser leg and start to run softly up the outside of my leg, climbing higher, then retreating down …
I shift slightly in my seat, moving my legs apart slightly as I feel that foot run softly up my right leg and see you slip gently down in your seat, bringing you closer to me … Our eyes meet again and we hold each other’s gaze … I feel your foot moving higher, touching my thigh and I slip my hand under the edge of the table… My fingers find your foot, definitely silk stockings, and I trace my fingers over and around your toes as the ball of your foot presses against my thigh …
I look at you again, your breath seems to be quickening and I see your breasts heaving softly inside the cashmere … As you twist slightly and lean, the wrap parts a little and I catch a glimpse of a pale cream lace bra, intricately detailed, and a firm, smooth, lightly tanned breast softly encased within it …
Your foot presses higher and firmer against my leg, my fingers slide over your ankle and up your calf, the smooth silk ruffling softly under my palm … Then, suddenly, abruptly, your foot is withdrawn and I hear, sense, you slipping your toes back into your shoe … I look at you, surprised, but that smile is still there and you lean forward and whisper softly, ‘I need to go to the loo …,’ and you slip out from under the table and stand, straightening your dress with your back to ,raps of your suspenders under the smooth brown material of your dress. You pick up your bag, move towards the door, slide it open, step through and then, as if an afterthought, half turn back to me and say, ‘Follow me, in a couple of minutes. Knock once, wait a second, then knock twice and I’ll know it’s you.’ And then you’re gone, turning right, and your heels clip softly down the corridor towards the end of the carriage …
My mind whirls … did I actually hear you say that …
I wait, my heart beating fast, the adrenaline coursing through me. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable now with the growing bulge in my trousers … I look at my watch, one minute gone … I watch the second hand tick slowly round and eventually meet the hour marker …
I make up my mind … I slide from behind the table, stand and walk to the door which you had left open … I leave the compartment and turn right too … tracing your steps along the corridor till I reach the compartment at the end. Thank God these new trains have better facilities I think as I look at the door, closed and with the occupied sign showing …
I take a deep breath, knock once, wait briefly, then tap again, twice, softly. I hear the latch being drawn immediately and the door click open … I look around, push the door slightly and step in …
The cubicle is larger than I remember from my youth… a good job too as I look across to you, leaning back against the sink, your bag hanging from the peg beside you. ‘Um, hi,’ I begin but you lean forward slightly, take my hand in yours and pull me gently towards you. As I near you, you tilt your head up slightly, parting your lips, and I lean down and our lips meet … your soft, sweet warm breath flowing over my lips. I feel your tongue flicker softly at the corner of my mouth and I feel you lift my hand up and press my palm against your breast … and even through the soft cashmere of your dress and the delicate lace of your bra I can feel your nipple, hard, jutting, poking into the palm of my hand. I flex my fingers, stiffening my hand, forcing it firmly against you … you catch your breath and I kiss your mouth more firmly, pressing our lips together … Caressing your breast with my hand, I slide it inside the fold of your dress … warm flesh under my fingertips …
Your hand snakes round the back of my neck as you pull me closer … we kiss, we lick each other’s lips and tongues, sucking on your lip …
I feel you shift your weight, your leg raises and you place your foot up on the edge of the loo seat … You move your lips to my ear and whisper, ‘Touch me, touch me please …’ My hands move between us, loosening the belt of your dress so the top gapes open and I can see your breasts swelling in the lace of your bra … I trail my lips down your neck, kissing and blowing as I go, down over your collarbone and down between your breasts, licking at your cleavage, tasting the thin film of perspiration as you start to pant quietly … My hand drops to your thigh, feeling the stocking tops … sliding my fingers up across your smooth skin …
We don’t have too much time, I know, so I am quick with my fingers … My hand moves to the juncture of your thighs and I find lacy knickers, French cut … soft, loose, flowing … My fingers slip inside the leg, grazing your flesh and my thumb brushes against a thin strip of hair … soft and short and narrow … I twist my hand slightly and my fingers find you. You’re wet already, I can feel the heat and the dampness between your legs … My tongue flickers over your swollen breast and my other hand finds its way between your breasts to the clasp at the front and unclips it … The cups fall away and I seek out your hard nipples with my tongue, licking first one, then the other … then sucking one inside my lips and nibbling on it …
The fingers of my other hand press against the heat between your thighs … I feel your lips part stickily as my fingers run between them … I slide a finger deep inside you and feel and hear you gasp as I touch those soft rippling walls … I draw my finger out … raise my hand to your breast and trace the sticky wet finger over and around your stiff nipple … wetting it with your cream … my hand drops again as my mouth closes on your nipple again, tasting your pussy juices for the first time, licking and sucking them from your breast … You taste divine, slick and wet and sticky and hot …
I slide one, then two fingers back inside you … God, you’re hot in there … I curl my fingers round and back towards the front of your pussy, feeling for the roughness inside which I want to find and stroke …
I take my hands away for a second so I can fold the dress back, exposing your knickers and the damp patch at the front … Then I release your nipple and slide to my knees in front of you and as I near your cunt I can smell you … musky and sweet and hot … I pull the leg of your French knickers aside and gaze at your pussy for the first time … a thin line of hair points down to where you start to swell … I lean forward, inhale your scent and lick slowly, softly, up your thigh and into the wet warmth of your pussy … my nose pushes against the swell of your clitoris, throbbing softly under its hood, waiting for me to tease it out … my tongue probes between your lips and then back to your clit … I want to get you ready and on the point of no return quickly … we can’t have much longer on this journey …
I flicker my tongue softly, then harde
r and faster over and around your clit … my hand slides between your lips, wetting my fingers as I move my hand to cup and caress the globe of your arse, my thumb brushing, pressing against your tight little rosebud and I hear you suck air in hard as you feel me press against you …
You’re wet enough now … but I’m not and I stand … you look at me as I unbuckle my belt and undo the buttons of my fly … Understanding dawns in your eyes as I move you across over the seat of the loo … pushing down gently till you sit, wide-legged across the closed lid … You look up at me as you work your hand inside my trousers, tugging my boxers down till my cock springs up and out at you … You look at me, lick your lips then bob your head forward and engulf me in the hottest, wettest mouth I’ve ever experienced … My eyes roll back in my head and I know I can’t take too much of this … Your lips drag slowly back up my shaft and your tongue tickles along the vein underneath … You close your lips tightly round the tip of my cock and suck hard, flicking your tongue fast against the underside of my head and as you withdraw, sucking noisily, I see a bright red stain of lipstick round my head …
‘Come here,’ I say throatily as I lift you back up again. I turn you round to face the cubicle wall and lift the back of your dress up around your waist … My trousers fall to the floor and I move in close behind you … my cock pressing between the cheeks of your bum … rubbing over your asshole … I shift myself slightly so my cock can press down between your thighs and it springs up hard against your hot pussy … you’re dripping and you’re coating me with more juice … ‘Put me in you,’ I mutter thickly and I feel your hand delve between us, fumbling for my prick and finding it … you slide the head up between your lips, bumping it against your clit and then pushing it back again towards your hole … I feel you raise yourself slightly, up on to your toes, and the tip of my cock lodges inside the opening of your pussy and as you settle down again, I feel a fiery warmth surround me as I sink deep inside you …
Girl Crush - A collection of five erotic stories Page 4