by Lily Harlem
And that big young cock barging up in his shorts. Any minute now, at a time I was going to choose, I was going to have a damn good look at it. I was going to touch it, hold it. I wouldn’t be able to help myself sliding on to it –
It makes me horny even now, can you tell? Remembering the sight of him, the smell, the heat burning off him that first time. I wasn’t his first, but I was going to make sure he’d never forget me.
‘Oh, my God, those tits, good enough to eat. Oh, God, I want to fuck you.’
I cupped my breasts, massaged them together, licking my lips like a porn star. ‘You seen breasts like mine before? Full, generous, begging to be touched?’
He shook his head, watching me fondle myself.
‘Different, aren’t they?’ I whispered. I was chancing it, but I knew he was hooked. His little girlie friends would have cute white baps. Not even a handful each.
‘Dark, aren’t they?’ I said softly, leaning nearer, dangling them over him, juicy like fruit. My nipples had turned the colour of raspberries. He couldn’t take his eyes off them. They were inches from his mouth and lips and tongue and teeth. I wanted him to suck me. The tension was so electric you could hear it.
I arched my back to thrust my breasts towards him. His Adam’s apple jumped again. His hands came up from my hips, where they’d tried to steady me in falling, and slid up my ribcage until they reached the outward curve of my breasts. I breathed in tiny gasps as his hands slid closer. The room was so quiet. His body was straining up under me. My nipples were stiff and burning, each one now the size of the tip of his little finger.
‘Let me,’ he groaned. I rubbed one across his mouth. I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach. His face flooded with red heat. Did he flush like that with his little floozies? Did he get rushes of excitement when they gave him a flash? Or a full-on erection like the one banging out of his jeans right now?
I let my nipples hover just above his mouth, torturing us both. I ran my hand over the front of his jeans, felt the rigid outline. I reached inside to cup his warm balls.
Outside it was getting dark. The kettle needed boiling. The guests would be back soon from the beach.
I picked up one of his hands, placed it on one swollen breast. My nipple spiked up, poking against his palm. I went limp as his fingers closed round. I spread my knees to lower myself, my pussy opening, my breasts jumping into his face with each heartbeat.
I had a boy here with the body of a god, just waiting for me to show him. So much for being bored in the countryside.
My stomach tightened as he played with both breasts, moulded them, squeezed until I could bear it no longer. I lay on him, smothering him, so that he had no choice but to nuzzle in between, press each breast against each of his hot cheeks. I took one breast, so heavy with wanting, and rubbed the taut nipple against his mouth again and again. Just the sight of me holding it, offering it to him, made me want to come. I jammed myself against his legs, but my pussy was twitching with frustration.
His tongue flicked out and I angled the tit right into his mouth. His lips nibbled up, tongue lapping round, then, aah, at last, he drew the burning bud in, pulling hard, and began to suck. Sparks pricked at me. I looked down at his tousled hair, at the salt water dried in granules and flecked white across his cheekbones, and I closed my eyes as the sensation nearly finished me off.
He brought the other breast up and turned his head this way and that, lapping and sucking, snuffling through his nose to breathe, groaning, biting and kneading harder and harder as if he owned my breasts now. It wasn’t enough for one breast to be suckled, they both had to be. That’s what really does it for me. Suck one, pinch the other until they’re both singing with pain. So the harder I pushed into his face, the quicker he learned, the harder he bit and chewed and pinched, and the sharper my pleasure.
‘Fuck me,’ a woman howled, and it was me.
‘Show me,’ he grunted back.
I wanted him to go on and on sucking and biting my tits, but I wanted his stiff cock in my cunt, too, wanted to feel it ramming up me. But somehow I still kept it slow. I wanted him to remember every single move.
I planted my knees on either side of his thighs so I was straddling him, still crushing his head between my tits, still making him suck. I wanted him to suck and suck forever, except that soon I would come against his leg like some randy bitch and what sort of education would that be?
As my nipples burned and throbbed, I rolled his jeans and boxers down. He raised his hips so obligingly to let me undress him I wanted to weep with victory. And then I wanted to shriek with it when his cock came thumping out from the rough tangle of tawny curls, pulsating like the rest of him, its surface smooth like velvet.
God, anyone would think I’d never seen one before. It thumped all heavy and warm into my hand and its owner bit me, hard, so that I screamed out loud.
‘You’re a quick learner,’ I breathed, pulling away, letting his head follow me, still nibbling and biting. ‘So here’s a little reward.’
He fell back, mouth wet with licking, and I slithered down till I reached his dick, standing there like a beacon. The tip was already beading. If I wasn’t careful, he’d come like a bloody train, before I wanted him to. But I wanted to show him. So I took that boy’s cock right into my mouth until the knob knocked the back of my throat.
His buttocks clenched as I sucked on him, holding his balls and biting my way down his shaft and sucking the sweet length of it. He started bucking. I wanted him to think he’d died and gone to heaven. Any minute now I was going to heaven, too. As I sucked, I rubbed my aching tits and wet pussy up and down his legs, like a randy mare scratching against a fence. He pulled at my hair. I was in danger of wasting this golden moment by coming all over his shins. My pussy was convulsing frantically now, leaving a slick of juice on his legs.
I gave his dick one last, long suck, pulling it and nipping it, then I let it slide out past my teeth. Next time I’d swallow. I clambered back on top of him, my toy, my boy, as he started to rise up on his elbows, seeking my tits again. I tilted myself over him.
‘See how beautiful it is,’ I crooned at him, showing him his cock in my fingers, wet with my licking. ‘See how well it’s going to fit.’
I aimed the tip of his cock towards my bush, let it rest there, nudge into my wet lips, and I shuddered as each inch went in. The tension was ecstasy, but I was going wild here, especially when he grabbed my breasts and started sucking on them again. I couldn’t hold on to it for much longer, and I let the boy’s knob slide up inside, all the way to the hilt. It was tempting to ram it, but once it was right in I forced myself away again.
‘Let me fuck you!’
We’d lost the power of language. ‘Fuck’ was the only word we knew.
I moaned in reply, tossed my head back, and down I went onto him again and this time he was with me, pulling at my hips so that he was in as I ground down.
He filled me. God, there were years of wild lovemaking ahead for him and any woman lucky enough to get near him. I pressed myself over him, let him bite and fondle, saw the blood rushing in his face as we started to jerk and rock together. I was really riding him, really wanted to hurt us both, wanted him to suck me while we did it, suck me so hard it would make me scream with pain, knowing my willing pupil would do whatever the hell I told him.
I was jacking up the rhythm, rocketing up and down his cock. I needed to ease the urge to come, but of course that only made it worse and more intense and I was getting tighter and tighter, holding him like a vice, and his cock was getting even harder with each frantic thrust, ramming right up inside.
‘Tell me I’m the best you ever had,’ he suddenly shouted, grabbing my hips and lifting me off him. ‘Want to hear you say it.’
‘Shut up and fuck me, big boy.’
His nails dug into me. ‘Tell me, you bitch, tell me I’m the best.’
I stared at him. His cock was enormous now, so swollen, standing away from his flat stomach
and aiming like a battering ram at my wet, waiting cunt.
‘You’re the best, baby,’ I said. And I meant it. I’d never had someone so young, so gorgeous, so well hung, so strong, so eager, so fresh, so obedient, all in one package.
Then his cock slipped up inside again. I was trapping him inside me and going at him so that we were welded together, releasing him so that he could draw back, trapping again as he tensed his buttocks and thrust inside, throwing his head back, pulling my tits with his teeth, thrusting faster now and faster, hearing my own crackling gasps of pleasure as I came and he saw me coming and he laughed with disbelief as he tensed and hardened to bursting point and shot it up me.
I slumped forwards onto his chest and listened to the drumming of his heart. I thought my head was empty, but I heard myself say, ‘I wish that was your first time. I wish I’d been the one to break you.’
His laugh rumbled under my ear. ‘Make me, you mean.’
I went to sit on the chair opposite, my legs sluttishly apart. I started to do up the buttons of my blouse, just a couple of them.
‘Wait till the boys hear about this.’
He sat up, pulled on his shorts, cracked his knuckles. The boys. He was just a boy, here for the summer. For God’s sake, what was I thinking?
‘You’re going to brag? Boast to them how you had the old dear from the B and B? Do you think they’ll look at me different?’
He shrugged as only youngsters can. He went over to the mirror and raked his hair with his fingers.
‘The old dear can take it!’ he said. ‘Respect! Think how the takings will go up when they hear how horny she is!’
‘Do you think they’ll want a piece of me, then?’ I picked up my knickers, flicked them over his shoulder, round in front of his nose. I saw his long eyelashes curve down as he breathed in. ‘Oh, I do hope so!’
He turned his head and looked at me. ‘I was only joking, Sara – don’t be pissed off.’
I kissed him, licking inside his mouth and very gently putting my hand on his dick. Not quite subsided. They can do it over and over, these randy lads.
‘Do I look pissed off? Quite the reverse, honey.’
I tossed the knickers over a chair and pulled a silky dress over my head.
‘I’d better go, then –’
‘When they come back, honey, tell them they can come up here after hours.’
He stopped at the door. Oh, this was almost the best bit, because I knew it would happen. I knew there was going to be so much more of this. Such a baby, he couldn’t tell if I was serious or not.
‘If they want to have a laugh, I’ll show them how. You know I can do that, don’t you?’
I licked my finger, just as I did outside, held my dress open and rubbed my nipple. He bit his lips.
‘I bet I can say it better than you can. Wouldn’t they like to hear how you touched me, touched me right there in the garden, how you followed me up here, how you sucked my tits just like I wanted it?’
‘Sounds pretty horny, doesn’t it?’ He swallowed hard.
I nodded, working my fingers, pinching my nipples as desire tore at me again. ‘But how about, instead of telling them, you and I just show them? They can come up here, they’re always welcome.’
‘All of them?’
I started to stroke both breasts now, spreading my legs over the arm of the sofa. ‘Sure. How I was on top, they can all come and watch how we did it, and then they can all take turns. I could have two latched on at a time, one on each tit –’
My pussy clenched furiously at that thought. It’s doing it now as I’m telling you.
‘– like puppies they can suck, and then you can fuck me, or they can do it, your mates, one by one, all together, from behind, underneath. Baby, I don’t give a shit how they do it, so long as they can go on all night.’
He didn’t need telling twice. He was right there, this time throwing me down on the sofa, scrabbling to get his cock out, pinning my arms over my head, biting at my breasts. He was the big man now.
Dear Fuckbook
Kyoko Church
October 15
I need a place to vent. This has to be it. I’ve never been a Dear Diary sort of person. To me it reeks of teenage angst. Oh, God, to be starting it at forty-three … I am officially old and sad.
What to say? Where to start? They say, begin at the beginning. But I can’t. Not right now. I haven’t the strength. It would take too long, be too painful. I just need an outlet. So I’m going to start with a rant.
I fucking hate cell phones! Do people even call them cell phones anymore? God, I’m so out of touch I don’t even know what to call them. Personal, hand-held, bloody instruments for ruining a marriage! Oh, God! No. It’s too much. I can’t do this.
November 1
Let’s try again.
I’m not even going to go there this time. I’m going to start with the positive.
I went out last night! I mean, out out. The kind of out I used to go when I was twenty-one. Except that when I was twenty-one I didn’t appreciate out. Not really. Out was just what we did on a Thursday – a Thursday! – or Friday and definitely on Saturday. Does twenty-one, single with no kids ever appreciate out? I certainly didn’t. But I did last night!
I went out. And I hooked up. That’s what they say now, right? That’s what I’m saying. I fucking hooked up. And I say ‘fucking’ now too!
Let me tell you about the old me. The old me was a scared little girl. She did what she was told. She looked down when she walked. Never met anyone’s eyes. Never got hit on. Never got laid.
I retired that scared, pathetic little girl last night.
I must say, I like the new girl. No matter how much pain was needed to birth her. Birthing hurts. That’s a fact. This one was no different.
But now she’s here. The new girl walks with her head up. She’s got confidence. She meets people’s eyes. And it’s amazing the friends you make when you meet people’s eyes.
I cannot understate how good it felt to walk into that club last night and not know what the end of the night would bring. There were possibilities. Possibilities! What a delightful word! Not casserole dinner and watching TV and no talking and perfunctory sex, no! Fuck that. Give me strangers and conversation and flirting. And sex. Sex that’s anything but perfunctory.
Hold on, I’m getting ahead of myself! First: I looked HOT last night. Hot! Me! I’ve never looked hot in my life but here’s something fabulous about a seriously less than fabulous situation: when your heart is broken you don’t want to eat. So you lose weight! It’s the diet secret of the century! I can just see the commercial:
The problem with other diets is that they don’t deal with those pesky cravings. You’re eating a salad but you’re thinking about dill pickle chips. With the Heartbreak Diet those cravings are gone! Your stomach is constantly churning. Your head is wrapped in pain and trauma. Cravings vanish! Hunger, gone! The pounds melt away. Friends will be jealous and ask how you did it. Only you’ll know the secret: The Heartbreak Diet! (Cheating Husband and Conniving Bitch Best Friend sold separately.)
A marketing possibility, I’d say. But I digress.
I took my skinny ass to the mall and bought the hottest, sluttiest outfit I could find. Black. Lots of skin. Lots of cleavage. I put on all the makeup my mother forbade me from wearing in junior high.
And.
I.
Went.
Out.
Oh, yes, there’s a new sheriff in town.
She’s fucking guys and not taking last names.
November 5
Tonight was Bradley.
I met Bradley last Thursday. Bradley is basically the guy in high school whom I wrote love letters to that I never sent. It’s the age-old story: geeky bookworm secretly loves football jock. If only I wore black-rimmed glasses and had my best friend Alicia Silverstone give me a makeover, it could have been the fourth most popular John Hughes film of its time. In reality it was twenty-five years in the making
. And my best friend was too busy with my husband’s cock in her mouth.
The sheriff had her warpaint on. She was meeting stares. And returning them. Bradley was the third guy to buy me a drink and the first to pique my interest.
I say he was the jock from my high school but in fact he couldn’t have gone to high school with me. Because when I was in high school he wasn’t born yet.
There is something so delicious about the young ones, isn’t there? And boom, just like that, I’m a cougar. Who knew? Not Bradley. He still thinks I’m twenty-six.
I’ll admit, the lights were low. In the club, all the way home in the cab, back at his little apartment over the tattoo shop, the lighting was thankfully dim. Was it naughty of me to keep up the charade? When he saw the photo of my daughter on my phone and asked if it was my sister, what should I have said? I don’t know now and I didn’t know then, which is why I kept my mouth shut and the lights dim and half my clothes on while I straddled his condom-sheathed cock. He soon forgot.
Bradley with his thick thatch of dark hair, on top and below, his muscled and tanned young body, his smooth skin almost hairless, his dark eyes that have yet to be jaded by mortgages and early-morning feedings and lay-offs and … disappointment. Oh, he was so good, so trusting, so eager.
When he first said, ‘Shit, babe. Why are you slowing down?’ I admit I got off on that a tiny bit.
‘Shhhh, Bradley, it’s OK’ is what I bent over and whispered in his ear as I stilled my naked body on top of him. ‘You want this to be fun for me too, don’t you? I haven’t come yet.’
I wonder how many girls Bradley’s fucked in his young life. I’m sure there have been quite a few, handsome as he is. I’m equally sure they were pretty one-sided romps on the pleasure scale, judging from the way he seemed so ready to just blow inside me as I rode him.
Here’s another secret: I’ve always wanted to know, what’s it like to make a guy wait?