Dark Desires: Dark Erotic Tales

by M Jet

  He moves his finger again and slips it inside her. He slowly swirls his finger up, deeper with each second until he's feeling the depth of her wet need.

  "Oh, Matteo…." She hisses.

  He continues to swirl that finger and begins moving his thumb into another fold. Slowly, he explores with his thumb, the dark crevice of her ass cheeks and she begins rocking against the wall. He makes the journey slower, and slower, her delicious anticipation mounting, whimpers escaping her lips in soft frenzied bursts. Finally, he slips his thumb ever so gently into her most secret area of desire and he begins to move both thumb and fingers in and out of two of her most erotic places. She moves her body against his skillful hand. The tingling begins in her thighs and spreads upwards. The breath is trapped in her lungs as she nears her temporary ending. The sensation of the verge of complete loss of control is overwhelming for Morreen as her husband fondles her simultaneously in both her snatch and her ass.

  Morreen throws her head back and screams brazenly as her orgasm overpowers her and overrides anything that makes sense in her mind.

  Matteo steadies her so that she doesn't collapse as he stands up. He pins her with his body then uses his bound hands to unfasten his own jeans and expose his throbbing dick. Barely able to control himself but knowing he must, he drops once more to his knees. This time, he spreads her cheeks wide and she squeals. Delicately, Matteo licks his wife's asshole and rubs her clit. Morreen writhes violently against his moving tongue crying out wantonly. Neither of them cares at this point who may hear or what may happen. When he's made her moist and pliant he stands again.

  "Trust me," Matteo whispers hotly against her ear. "I won't hurt you."

  He moves the head of his prick against her asshole and she groans. "Yes, baby. Yes. I'm not afraid," Morreen begs.

  So he pushes it in.

  Slowly, gently, Matteo slides himself into her ass. For a moment she is still as she considers this new sensation and she accepts him. Once he makes his way inside her until his long cock has fully disappeared, he begins thrusting. Slowly at first, and then faster. He moves her away from the wall and bends her completely over as though she were doing toe touches so that she can fully offer him her ass. He throws his head back with reckless abandon as her tight ass takes his hard cock and he rocks into her for what seems like a heavenly eternity until finally he comes deep inside her.

  Matteo and Morreen no longer care about their predicament. All they know is each other. She is like he's never known her to be. After he has his way with her ass, she takes control. She sucks him, she rides him, she uses his cock as a toy to manipulate her own clit and make him drink her juices. All of this transpires in the dirt and the grime of the hard, cold floor. Their bodies both become filthy and abraded with sexual injuries and neither of them cares. Perhaps this is how people fuck when they believe they will soon die. The couple fucks for hours. Several times during the oblivion, Matteo manages to grasp the one thought of wondering why no one has come to see them; to tell them what's going on or what's expected of them. But again, he does not care.

  Finally, Matteo is spent. He has nothing left to give for the time and he lays on the floor naked from the waist down. He expects Morreen to lie down with him and cuddle up against his chest but instead she stands and walks off into the shadows.

  She returns with a knife. Matteo's eyes open just a second too late and Morreen plunges the knife into his chest.

  Matteo screams. Morreen rips the knife out of her husband's chest. Blood is gurgling from the brutal opening she's made in him and pooling onto the floor. She raises the knife again, even as Matteo attempts to turn over, to scramble away from her.

  "MORREEN WAIT! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" Matteo screams, falling back against the floor as she drops on top of him, straddling him. Her sex is still sticky wet from their loving and he feels it hot against his stomach. Unbelievably, despite the agony, his cock hardens again and she feels it touch her back. She giggles as he husband weakens. Her hands are now free, as she must have unlocked them in the shadows. The knife wielding hand falls, but still clutches the knife like it is her darling baby.

  "You want to go again?" Morreen preens gleefully.

  It's Matteo's turn to writhe, and tears are falling as he tries to squirm away again, but she lowers herself once more over his long shaft.

  "You are such a stud!" Morreen declares. "A hard cock with a gaping chest wound baby, that's fucking HOT! And you're over forty and everything! You should be proud of yourself!" Morreen gives him an at a boy pat directly on his wound.

  Matteo sobs and chokes as blood begins spewing up his throat. Morreen begins to move in her magical rhythm, riding his throbbing cock. This certainly hadn't been part of her plan, but she is going with it.

  "Morreen, whhhhyy?" Matteo cries, wishing his erection would subside. Wishing he could keep his own hips from matching her rhythm. "Why are you doing this?"

  "Well, Matteo, here's the thing," Morreen says. She traces the blade of the knife down Matteo's face, opening a small line of blood. "Let me be quick about it because I think you'll bleed out pretty soon," she continues as she grinds her hot pussy on his cock. "The thing is basically this. I do love you, but I do not forgive you. I lied a tad about planning to divorce you. My actual plan was to kill you!"

  Matteo sobs pathetically as Morreen moves herself harder and harder against her husband and she feels his erection growing. "But, the thing of it is, you're a creative guy, and something you said earlier gave me an excellent idea!"

  Knowing this man who'd been her lover for twenty years, Morreen can feel when he is on the verge of orgasm. She jerks herself off of him and brutally grabs his cock with her left hand. Before he has even a second to protest, to beg, or to pray, she slices his cock and balls off just as he comes.

  He screams.

  She comes.

  In under three minutes he's dead.

  ***

  "What kind is that?"

  The voice snaps Morreen out of her reverie. She sits in the park next to a stranger on a bench. "I beg your pardon? What kind is what?" Morreen replies.

  The kindly old gentleman smiles. "What kind of bird feed is that? I've not seen anything like it. It looks like some kind of ground meat."

  Morreen's eyes drop to the stuff in her hand. She takes another pinch and throws it to the birds who scramble to accept it. Morreen shrugs.

  "I don't really recall. Got it from the pet shop," she says noncommittally

  THE END

  "I brought you a present," Delilah bubbled as soon as I opened the front door. Delilah's tan, freckled face beamed. One of her arms struggled to manage a bouquet of tiger lilies and a gigantic box of chocolate. The other arm reached down to grasp her son, Dakota's hand. I grinned at the pair as my daughter; Emily bound up behind me to enthusiastically greet Dakota.

  "I want the chocolate!" sweet Dakota declared. Both Delilah and I, and both six year olds giggled delightedly.

  "Oh my gosh, that is too funny," I commented as I ushered our friends in the door and took Delilah's offering.

  "What's funny?" Delilah asked as she helped Dakota take off his shoes and settle in.

  "Come here and see what I got you," I said, still giggling. Dakota and Emily scampered away, hand in hand, and I led my friend through the living room and into the kitchen. On the counter was an identical gigantic box of chocolate next to a lovely bouquet of lilacs that I'd purchased just the day before. Delilah and I burst into laughter.

  "Well, either we're not very creative," Delilah said.

  "Or, we just know each other REALLY well!" I said, finishing my friend's sentence.

  I opened the fridge to produce a pitcher of sun tea and poured us two tall glasses. "It's a gorgeous day," Delilah said.

  "Yeah, I know, right? You wanna take the kids outside and bake in the sun?"

  "Sure!" Delilah agreed happily.

  We gathered our offspring and set off out the back door to enjoy the sunshine. Dakota and
Emily hit the ground running straight for the swing set and trampoline. Delilah and I grabbed lounging chairs and dragged them toward the garden. We both enjoyed sitting next to the myriad of colorful flowers and fragrant herbs. Often, as we'd sit and chat, Delilah would pluck a strawberry straight from its plant and pop it in her mouth. I was one to wash produce first, but Delilah was like nature at its purest. As always, I watched Delilah out of the corner of my eye as we settled into our seats and felt lovingly jealous of her impossibly long, perfectly smooth, deeply tan legs and her superb slender feet. In addition to those gorgeous assets, Delilah had masses of blonde hair spilling down to her waist, framing a long face with delicate features and startling blue eyes. Despite having given birth and being into her mid-thirties, Delilah still had perfect breasts and rock hard abs. She was the poster child for lofty expectations and impossible dreams.

  In direct contrast, I remained pale year round, never daring to venture into the sun without a quarter inch of sunscreen applied. My long hair was dark brown and ram rod straight. I was a good six inches shorter than my best friend, and though my own curves would probably be considered quite attractive in most schools of thinking, I felt like a dandelion next to a rose most of the time with Delilah. I'd worn glasses since I was ten, and the only way I could come close to Delilah's natural exotic look was with a LOT of makeup. But, any wishes to look more like my friend were in loving admiration, never genuine jealousy. Delilah had been my VBF (very best friend) since we'd both been in diapers and I would never wish anything but the best for her.

  It was Saturday, late afternoon. The day before Mother's Day. Delilah and I had a Mother's Day tradition which we celebrated religiously. Neither of our children had fathers to shower us with attention for the day. So, each year, Delilah, the children, and I had a slumber party the night before Mother's Day. After the kids went to bed, Delilah and I watched sappy movies and pigged out on ice cream and Margarita. Then the four of us spent each Mother's Day together, making crafts, cooking delicious foods and enjoying one another.

  My little girl, Emily had been a happy accident. At the time of Emily's conception, I had an irresponsible fling with a man at work. I'd been fully aware the guy was a sleaze and hadn't cared. He'd been hot, and he'd scratched an itch at the time. By the time I figured out I was pregnant, he'd already quit the job and moved on. I couldn't find him, and admittedly, didn't try too hard.

  I was surprisingly happy about the pregnancy, given I'd never been in any lasting relationship and had no prospects to do so. Nor did I have any family to support me or help me through it. I'd done it alone, except for the love of my beautiful friend Delilah and her husband Joel.

  Joel and Delilah were married two years when she got pregnant. Incredibly, Delilah conceived within days of me. As though our souls were so in tune, Delilah had known I would need her to go through this with me. Both pregnancies went smoothly, and both Dakota and Emily were born perfect and healthy. And then, one month after the births, Delilah's husband Joel deployed to Afghanistan.

  And he came home in a casket.

  With our baby's barely a year old, I stood at his grave, clutching Delilah's hand. Together, we watched her future being returned to the Earth. Our friend Anne kept the kids for us over night. After the service and the wake were over, Delilah allowed herself to break down. We curled up together that night, and I held her while she cried it out. That's when we made our official promise to both be mothers and fathers to both the kids.

  And six years later, the whole thing was still going beautifully. I still couldn't seem to get into the idea of even attempting to find a man. Delilah occasionally went on dates, but nothing ever came of it. Her heart remained with her husband. I suspected she'd never really move on.

  Delilah and I sat chatting while we sipped our tea. After Emily and Dakota tired of the back yard, we took them around to the garage where we all got on our bikes. Delilah and Dakota lived in a small walk up apartment, so they left their bikes at my place where we could ride safely around the neighborhood on sidewalks. When we returned from a ride to the playground, Delilah and I prepared homemade pizzas while the kids made us Happy Mother's Day cards at the table. We put in a movie after supper, but both kids were asleep before we were even a half hour into it. The evening had exhausted them.

  We gently carried our kids back to Emily's bedroom. There were two beds in the room since Delilah and Dakota stayed over so often. We both kissed our kids. Then we crossed the room and kissed each other's kids goodnight, leaving them peaceful in the soft glow of the night light.

  "Ah, relaxation," Delilah said, plopping backwards onto the couch. I passed right by her to return to the kitchen to make the Margaritas. I returned with two huge, delicious looking Margaritas on the rocks and carefully offered one to my friend.

  "Holy shit!" Delilah exclaimed eyes widening as she beheld the mother of all Margarita. "Did you run out of glasses? Had to use a fish bowl?"

  I giggled. "Come on, take it. You know you want it!"

  Delilah accepted the drink. "Well hell yes, I do!" she said taking a long pull on the drink. Then she got up and walked over to where her overnight bag sat on the bench near my front door. She put the drink down briefly to rifle through her bag.

  "What did you bring to watch?" I asked.

  Delilah produced a DVD case out of her bag with an excited squeal, and returned to the couch with her drink. She handed the DVD over to me.

  "Basic Instinct?" I said incredulously. "What the? What about Fried Green Tomatoes? Beaches? Steel Magnolias? You know our usual Mother's Day tear jerker fest?"

  Delilah laughed wickedly. "Just not feeling tear jerkers this time!"

  "Oh reeeeally," I said curiously. "And why is that? Is there something you need to tell me?"

  "Like what?" asked Delilah as she grabbed the DVD back from me and crossed the room. She sat down on the floor in front of the TV and proceeded to queue the movie.

  "Like is there a new fellow I should be aware of?"

  Delilah laughed as she jumped up and crossed the room again, this time to shut off the lights. "No, silly. I'm just horny!"

  We both laughed and Delilah settled once more onto the couch next to me. We giggled and leaned toward each other in the special way we'd had all our lives. We joked about men and the general unnecessity of sex as long as vibrators existed. Only half paying attention to the movie, we exchanged sex stories from our pre kid lives and before we knew it, we'd both had two of the fish bowl Margaritas.

  "Hey!" Delilah said loudly, definitely demonstrating the intoxicating effects of the drinks. "Let's have chocolate!"

  I laughed uproariously as though this were the funniest thing I'd ever considered. Then I got up and weaved back to the kitchen where I grabbed one of the big boxes of chocolate.

  I returned to my friend and placed the box between us on the couch. We both eagerly anticipated the opening of the box. We hesitated, each waiting for the other to dive in. Finally, Delilah took the plunge and tore open the box. She let out a blissful moan.

  As we'd done since we were children, we decided in advance who could have what chocolate.

  "I want all the coconut ones," I said.

  "Done. You know I hate coconut. I want all the caramel."

  "Sure, I don't like how it gets stuck in my teeth."

  We plucked chocolates from the box and popped them into our mouths as we worked out our chocolate delegation arrangement. "I want the chocolate covered cherry," I said, picking the candy out.

  "Hold it!" Delilah cried. "There's only one of those in the box!"

  I smiled mischievously at Delilah's pouting face. I held the chocolate close to my own lips, silently threatening to devour it.

  "Jace," Delilah whined, "you know how I love the cherry! Please! At least share it with me!"

  I licked my lips and then gently placed the chocolate between my teeth, just enough to hold it there, not enough to puncture the chocolate. I loved tormenting Delilah. Few things got her mo
re worked up than chocolate.

  Delilah sat across the box of chocolate from me, staring at me through narrow eyes, with a hint of a smile playing on her full lips. Spinning air swirled between her and me, and we lingered there with our eyes locked. I smiled around the candy in my teeth; a tiny giggle crept out from deep in my throat.

  That's when Delilah leaned over the box of chocolate and nipped the chocolate in my teeth. Her plump lips grazed mine but neither of us backed away. Delilah sunk her teeth into the chocolate and it erupted juice from the cherry into both our mouths. I clamped my teeth too on my half of the chocolate with a whisper of a yelp. The chocolate warmed and melted in our mouths with Delilah's lips still brushed against mine. Eye to eye and nose to nose, I suddenly became aware of her bewitching scent and her otherworldly beauty. I could feel the heat of her breath on my skin.

  With one tiny motion, her hot lips covered my mouth. My breath caught in my throat and my eyes shut. Every other thought and feeling in life slipped away and all I knew was the feeling of her wet mouth plying my own. When I did not pull away, Delilah hesitantly lift her hand to the back of my head, unclipping my hair clip and letting my black locks spill free. She laced her fingers into my hair and shoved the chocolates onto the floor so that she could move closer, all the while exploring my mouth with her tongue.

  My hands flew to her face, cupping the lovely contours of it and caressing her soft skin. My head swam deliciously as I became utterly lost. Delilah traced one finger down my throat and then hooked it under the spaghetti strap of the black tank top I was wearing, gently pulling the strap down. Her fingers grazed my breast as she moved the flimsy material away to expose me. Finally she drew back to look into my sparkling dark eyes. She demurely peeked down at my one exposed breast, round and heaving with my quick breaths. Then she looked back into my eyes and caught the pure heat there radiating. Delilah's seemed suddenly sober. She took my small hand in her own and stood up, pulling me with her. Firmly, she pulled me against her and kissed me again, at the same time filling her hand with my voluptuous breast. A sigh escaped us both and passed between our lips. The heat of it seemed to wash down the length of both our bodies and we began to tremble. Delilah pulled away again, and pulled me toward the bedroom. I happily followed and we rushed down the dark hallway, leaving the movie playing to an empty room.