Five Minute Fantasies 1

by Cathryn Cooper

  Eventually though, I emerged from the shadows and out on to the back lawn of the waterfront property. The cottage was dark. I snuck around the side, tip-toed up the steps to the front door. Then I unlatched the screen door with my porn store membership card and slipped inside.

  I stood in the darkness, holding my breath, heart hammering at my chest and blood pounding in my ears. You could call it breaking and entering, sure, but I considered it just being neighbourly. I had been invited, after all.

  I tiptoed over to the partially open door of one of the two rooms that led off the living room and peeked inside. Moonlight illuminating the curtained window revealed the outline of two people asleep in the bed, a man snoring on his back, a woman with an arm around his chest and head buried in a pillow.

  I snuck over to door number two and cracked it open. Just one body slept in this bed, on her stomach. I eased inside, stole closer to the bed. I looked down at the darkened form rising and falling with breath, thinking about what that body had been doing earlier that afternoon. My cock hardened along with my resolve. I was going to fuck my wife, dammit, lead with my dick and let the sperm drips fall where they may!

  I pulled back the bedcovers, exposing bare, glowing skin, bare, plump butt cheeks. I reached out and landed shaky hands palms-down on the warm, taut flesh, sinking my fingers into tender ass. I kneaded that bountiful bottom, my cock straining my zipper, drool just about spilling out of my open mouth and splashing down onto those moon-faced buttocks.

  The sleeping beauty moaned and rolled over. And I instantly saw by the small tits that I wasn’t feeling up my wife’s ass; I was feeling up Ron’s wife’s ass!

  ‘Hi, Mike,’ Isabelle murmured.

  We stared at each other in the dim light. Then the young hottie boldly reached up and brushed her fingertips along the raging length of my hard-on. All thoughts of retreat fled from my fevered mind.

  I gripped the girl’s upright titties and squeezed and groped, working the firm, fine flesh like I’d been working her ass, like she’d been working my wife’s tits earlier that day. Isabelle closed her eyes and groaned, clapping her hands over my hands and urging me on. I rolled rigid nipples between trembling fingers, feeling the rubbery protuberances swell even harder and longer as I fondled them.

  Then a thought suddenly struck me: if this was sweet Isabelle sleeping all by her lonesome, then Lindsay had to be the other female form sleeping in the other room – with Ron! The cheating bitch, I thought, hands full of Isabelle’s hot titties.

  ‘Fuck me,’ she breathed.

  I fumbled with my belt, and she pulled me close and easily un-notched me with her nimble fingers. And then, still flat on her back and body bared to the world, staring me in the eye, she lowered my zipper and Jockeys and set my cock free. She grabbed onto the twitching member.

  ‘Yeah!’ I groaned, knees buckling at her touch.

  Her hot little hand swirled up and down the pulsating length of my shaft, up and over and around my swollen hood. She pulled me still closer, so that I was looming over her face. Then she dragged me down and into her mouth.

  ‘Sweet Jesus!’ I yelled, her warm, wet mouth engulfing my erection.

  She inhaled me all the way down to the three-quarters mark, before finally pulling back. Then she wet-vacced me up again, sucking on my cock. I moved my hips, helping her, fucking her mouth. She gripped the base of my thrusting dick with one hand and tugged on my tightened sack with the other. I hung onto the knotty headboard, churning my cock back and forth in the girl’s mouth, ready to blow my load at a moment’s notice.

  But then I remembered how unrewarded Isabelle had been for her afternoon activities. And kind, caring horndog that I was, I popped my dripping prick out of her mouth and growled, ‘I’m gonna fuck you!’

  She licked pre-cum off her lips and smiled, her teeth gleaming white in the gloom. I disrobed faster than a fallen monk and jumped on top of her, smothering her hot body with mine. She grabbed my head and hungrily kissed me, Frenched me. And while I was fighting her tongue with my tongue, I wedged a hand in between our burning bodies and got a grip on my dong. I steered it in the right direction, brushing juicy wetness with my hood and then plunging into her slit.

  I pushed all the way inside her, the heat and tightness incredible, and we both moaned. I started churning my hips, pumping her sopping puss with my cock. She clutched my neck and breathed hot profanity in my face, before sinking her teeth into my tongue and greedily sucking on it.

  The bed creaked like granny’s rocking chair as I urgently thrust into the girl’s snatch, our heavy, ragged breathing filling the small room. I fucked that hot-blooded vixen with an anxious frustration born of way too many ‘headache’-related misfires. We bounced up and down on the bed, me pounding cock into Isabelle’s wet-hot cauldron of a cunt, she biting her fingernails into my ass and driving me on.

  Until the overheated darkness suddenly exploded with cold, white light.

  ‘So, you made it, after all, Mike,’ Lindsay commented.

  I twisted my head around and stared at my wife, still buried dick-deep in another woman’s pussy. Lindsay and Ron were standing in the doorway, just as nude and lewd as Isabelle and I were. My wife had a hold of Ron’s cock, while Isabelle’s husband had his arm around Lindsay, fondling one of her dangling tits.

  Lindsay grinned, tugging on Ron’s cock. ‘This is just what our marriage needed,’ she said. ‘A little more openness. Don’t you think?’

  She nodded, and I nodded. And Isabelle pinched my ass and Ron laughed and I started right up where I’d left off, fucking Ron’s wife. He and Lindsay watched, Lindsay hissing, ‘Fuck her, Mike! Fuck that little slut like she fucked me this afternoon – like Ron fucked me tonight!’

  It was wild and crazy and way, way erotic. I pumped Isabelle’s poon like a madman, flying back and forth in her velvety wetness. Until her mouth broke open in a silent scream and her sleek body shivered with orgasm.

  ‘Fuck, yeah!’ I howled, cock exploding, pulsing fiery jizz deep into the girl’s gushing cunt.

  We came together, bucking up and down. Until at last we lay together, exhausted, my hands on her tits and her hands on my ass, our tongues feebly entwining.

  Lindsay strolled over and lifted my groggy head, kissed me, tasting Isabelle on my lips. ‘Who needs marriage counselling when we have free-swinging neighbours like Ron and Isabelle?’ she remarked.

  It was the first thing we’d agreed on in a very long time.

  Marital Aids

  by Lynn Lake

  Marianne poured me another cup of coffee, then replaced the decanter and sat back down at the kitchen table. ‘You didn’t come over here just to discuss gardening, did you, Kate?’

  I looked up and smiled at her. Marianne and I had been friends too long for me to put anything over on her. I gazed into her crystal-clear blue eyes and the bedroom problems between my husband and I gushed out of my mouth. After ten years of mostly happy marriage, sex had become more of a chore than a joy lately – something to do once a week, like changing the sheets on the bed. Our love life had become stale, boring. It wasn’t because Jim wasn’t a good lover, it was just that with the kids and the jobs and the new house, sex had become secondary, and, sadly, it didn’t look like the situation would improve anytime soon.

  Marianne twirled a strand of her long black hair around a slim, silver-tipped finger. ‘Roger and I had a very similar problem,’ she said, her glossy lips breaking into a sympathetic smile. ‘I think all couples do eventually. You get completely overwhelmed by the day-to-day activities of living and striving to get ahead, so that sex doesn’t seem so important any more.’

  I nodded, then blatantly inquired, ‘And how did you guys handle it?’

  Marianne’s perfectly made-up, pearl-white face suddenly turned a salmon shade of pink, and her eyes fluttered back and forth between her coffee cup and me. ‘Well…you’ve got to do something to, um…shock the sexuality back into your marriage, so to speak. For Roger and me,
it was, uh…’

  ‘Hey,’ I interjected quickly, ‘if you don’t want to talk about it…’

  ‘Spanking,’ she blurted out.

  ‘What!?’

  She settled her hands in her lap and looked me directly in the eye. ‘Our sex life had dwindled to virtually nothing, and it was just routine whenever we did make love, so Roger and I tried some new things, experimented a bit…until we found that spanking turned both of us on. Really turned us on.’

  I gulped down my amazement. ‘You mean that Roger spanks you?’

  ‘Roger spanks me, I spank Roger. We spank each other. It’s completely revived our sex life.’

  ‘But isn’t it, um, painful?’

  ‘There’s a very thin line between pain and pleasure, Kate.’

  I almost spilled my coffee as I took a small sip, my hand was shaking so hard. Marianne was a shy, soft-spoken woman who liked everything to be in its proper place, someone who wouldn’t harm a fly – or so I’d thought. She and Roger were the perfect, All-American couple – good-looking, successful, sophisticated. He was a partner in an architectural firm and she was a private school teacher. I couldn’t believe that they’d be involved in something as kinky as spanking.

  ‘And w-what do you, you know, use to spank each other?’ I spluttered.

  Marianne shrugged her shoulders. ‘Well, it depends on what we feel like. Our hands, of course, brushes, paddles, rolled-up newspapers and magazines, dildos–’

  ‘Dildos!?’

  She nodded. ‘Why don’t I just show you our collection of disciplinary devices?’

  ‘Why don’t you?’ I almost shouted, my face turning red and my body hot as I had a mental flash of beautiful Marianne savagely spanking hunky Roger’s bare bum with a dildo. Roger was a big, blond, macho type of guy, and the thought of him getting disciplined with a plastic cock by his petite, polite wife left me light-headed and tingling all over, and wondering if Marianne wasn’t on to something here.

  ‘Follow me,’ she said, pushing back and gracefully sliding out of her chair. She winked at me and then strolled out of the kitchen and down the hall, her hips swaying suggestively under her shark-colored dress.

  I slammed my coffee cup down in its saucer, cracking both, and hurried after her, the two of us colliding just inside her bedroom door. She laughed and steadied me, her smooth, slender hands cool on my hot, sun-burnished skin, and then she guided me over to an antique dresser that crouched against a wall in the tastefully appointed room. She pulled the top drawer open, and we stood there, bare shoulder to bare shoulder, looking down at a neatly arrayed collection of butt-warming tools: switches, yardsticks, steel batons, paddles, hair brushes, a riding crop, and, yes, dildos.

  ‘Wow!’ I exhaled. ‘How long have you and Roger been doing this? Spanking each other, I mean?’

  ‘Oh, about a year now, I suppose.’

  I picked up a monstrous, blue-black double-dong and held it in my hand, marveling at its length and thickness, its heft. Then I whispered like I was holding a sacred object in a place of worship, ‘How does getting whipped with this thing feel?’

  ‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Marianne replied matter-of-factly.

  I jerked my head sideways and gaped at her. ‘Huh!? Oh, no…I couldn’t…I–’

  ‘You want to reclaim your sex life, or not?’ she said bluntly, her soft, sweet voice grown decidedly harsher. Her eyes were hard and intimidating, her full lips parted slightly like she was having trouble breathing.

  I was having trouble breathing. I dropped the heavy-duty, two-pronged dildo and took a step backwards. ‘I guess maybe I better get–’

  ‘You’re not going anywhere!’ Marianne barked, scooping up the lewd sex toy and roughly grabbing my elbow.

  I glanced anxiously from her hand to her face, and her expression of unbending determination told me that I’d better play along. Plus, my own blossoming desire to find out just what that dildo did feel like kept me rooted to the ground. ‘Okay, okay. I-I’m willing to give it a try,’ I stammered. No risk, no reward, right?

  ‘Good,’ Marianne replied crisply. She let go of my arm and walked over to the large canopy bed that dominated the room, sat down stiffly on the side of it. She held the wicked-looking cock-substitute in her right hand and patted her tiny lap with her left. ‘Come over here and accept your punishment. Now!’

  Sweat grew on my forehead and the palms of my hands, and my legs turned into two overcooked noodles. My whole body was numb and my head was spinning, but somehow I managed to stagger over to Marianne. I stood in front of her like a nervous schoolgirl, my hands trembling, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

  ‘You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you?’ she rebuked me, slapping the giant dildo hard across the palm of her small, delicate hand.

  The warm, caring, retiring woman I had known only moments before was gone, replaced by a cold, aggressive, and aroused dominatrix (I could clearly see her rigid nipples indenting the thin fabric of her dress). I suspected, as well, that her pussy was probably as wet as mine. She grabbed my hand and pulled me down onto her lap, bent me over her knees like I was a ten-year-old girl who’d just been caught smoking.

  ‘This is for your own good,’ she declared, and then smacked my bottom with the rubber hose.

  ‘God!’ I shrieked, instantly amazed at the intensity of my reaction. It hadn’t really hurt, but everything, every feeling, every action and reaction, seemed incredibly magnified in the crackling, sexually-tense atmosphere of that bedroom. I was wearing only a flimsy summer dress and a pair of panties, and the thin fabric of those two garments provided little cushioning for my bottom against Marianne’s wicked love-stick.

  She gripped my neck to hold me securely in place, and then whacked my bum again with the dildo, harder this time. I fought to catch my breath and blood rushed to my head and thundered in my ears. She smacked my butt again and again with her heavy spank toy, harder and harder, faster and faster, pounding my ass in an ever more vicious rhythm.

  ‘Fuck!’ I groaned, and twisted my dizzy head around to steal a look at Marianne. Her sky-blue eyes were wide and glassy, her face crimson, her white teeth biting sharply into her pink tongue. I dropped my head back down and stared blindly at the carpet, the searing pain in my ass being fanned into flames by Marianne’s relentless spanking.

  She beat me unmercifully with the ebony pussy-plunger, and yet, even as she flailed away at my burning bottom, something clicked in my overwrought brain, and I mentally switched gears and the pain suddenly and unexpectedly began to dissipate. It became something I could control as I realized that Marianne would never really hurt me. I channeled the white-hot anguish from my throbbing bum into my drenched pussy, so that each time she smacked me, a jolt of raw sexual energy blasted my pussy and permeated my body.

  ‘You’re not hurting me!’ I screamed defiantly, slobber spilling out of my mouth and onto the carpet, my transformation from victim to spank-vixen complete.

  She angrily pushed up my dress and pulled down my panties, her long nails scratching the inflamed surface of my bottom as she frantically sought to expose me to even greater punishment, and pleasure. ‘This’ll teach you a lesson!’ she hissed, her chest heaving, her hands damp and shaking as she roughly adjusted my clothing to give herself the maximum bare target area.

  ‘Yes!’ I jeered when she lashed the flexible, two-headed dong across my naked ass with a resounding smack. My plump buttocks trembled, I trembled, as Marianne whaled my behind, raining down blows that blistered me from pink to scarlet.

  Then she forced my legs apart and scrubbed my dripping cunt with the two-girl fuck-rod. She alternated between laying a licking on my butt and urgently buffing my pussy. The feeling was incredible, and before I even knew what was happening, my cunny exploded and I was rocked by orgasm. She savaged my bare bottom with stinging wallop after wallop, rubbed my drenched pussy, and a tidal wave of heat churned through my quivering body and consumed me, leaving me devastated in its wake.
I came with a pain-induced intensity that I’d never have believed possible, and then lay limp and shattered across Marianne’s knees when she halted her furious beating.

  ‘How did that feel?’ she asked after a while, lightly stroking my dewy neck and gently rubbing my swollen bum. ‘I wasn’t too hard on you, was I?’ She had reverted back to the Marianne of old, the Marianne I’d known exclusively before she picked up that black cock-replacement and pummelled my bottom like a woman possessed.

  I sucked some humid air into my tortured lungs and wearily shook my head. She helped me regain my footing, and we both stared in awe at the reflection of my brick-red butt in the mirror above the dresser. ‘That’s gonna leave a mark,’ I joked sheepishly, tentatively petting my ravaged behind. There were already white ridges forming where she had applied the dildo extra-hard.

  I gingerly pulled up my panties and lowered my dress, then gave Marianne a big, heartfelt hug. ‘Thanks for all your help,’ I said, tears in my eyes.

  ‘Sometimes a little hurt is the best help a friend can give,’ she responded, her own eyes glittering.

  I’d learned a lot that afternoon with my best friend – about her, about me, and about the razor-thin divide between wicked pain and wanton pleasure. So, when Jim finally got home from work later that night, I could hardly wait to show him the visible proof of my lesson in life. I bared my battered bottom for him as he changed out of his suit and into a T-shirt and jeans.

  ‘Holy shit!’ he yelped, bending down to get a closer look at my tender, tortured petoot. ‘Marianne did that to you? Shy little Marianne?’

  ‘She spanked me silly, yup,’ I replied.

  He pressed a finger against my warm tushe, and shook his head in amazement when the white mark he left behind was quickly swallowed by red. ‘Christ almighty,’ he muttered, then straightened up. ‘What in the hell brought all this on?’