by Violet Blue
Oh, he fights me. Resists that mounting, maddening pressure in his balls and cock with heroic determination. But he’s too far gone and Nature will have her way. He gives in at last, grinding upward, moaning into the skin of my neck. Filling me. And he’s mine; my beautiful Hades. He’s all mine.
While he unties my hands he gives me kisses. Pillow-soft kisses that steal my air, leave me gasping as if I’m plunging, racing down into the earth, into arms of darkness and stone. I can only stroke my fingers along his cheekbones and smile at him.
He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. “You scare me, you know that?”
Jazz and vampire novels and sex like skinny-dipping in a midnight thunderstorm. It’s a wonder I can manage coherent speech at all, but I hear myself say, “Is that such a bad thing?”
He thinks about it for only a few seconds, gives me a secret smile.
“No. No, it’s not bad at all,” he replies.
We turn to walk away, back to the world of coffee shops and ordinary things. But he pauses. I see him look up at the angel, my Lady of Death with her stone wings. Then he looks at me, and his gaze is mystery and passion and promise as he takes my hand. I say nothing; I don’t ask. Because, after all, I’m just a little freaked out by him, too.
But that’s not a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all.
AMERICAN BOTTOM IN LIMOUSIN
Geneva King
Sadie sat fuming in her cell. She hadn’t so much as heard a human voice in the last two hours.
“Hello!” she screamed. “Let me out of here! Um, damn. Laissez-moi…aller d’ici.” Admittedly not the best French, but hopefully they’d get the gist. “This is inhumane. I’m gonna sue when I get out!” She whacked the bars and flopped on the dingy cot.
“This is so gross,” Sadie groaned, trying to touch as little of the fabric as possible. Finally discomfort got the better of her. She balled her sweater beneath her head and curled up.
This was so not in the plan. Nowhere on the itinerary did it say “Get arrested for a crime you didn’t commit and get thrown into some horrible decaying French prison.” And yet that was exactly what had happened. She didn’t speak French well enough to understand what she was being accused of in the first place. And none of her jailers spoke English. She assumed it had something to do with the man selling jewelry. No one had bothered her until he started yelling.
“I’m still in here,” she yelled. When there was no answer, she shrugged. Maybe they needed some prodding. “One hundred bottles of beer on the wall, one hundred bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall….” She sang loudly in the direction of the guards.
By the time she reached forty-four bottles, Sadie’s throat was dry and scratchy. She also needed to pee. Badly. Her cell didn’t have a toilet, but she noticed a small drain in the middle of the floor.
“No way am I squatting over that.” She sat back on the cot and squeezed her PC muscles together. “It’s been a while since I did my Kegels anyhow.”
Ten minutes and some frantic prayers later, the cell door opened and a female guard walked in.
Sadie jumped up. “Madame! Madame! Je m’appelle Sadie et…j’ai…eh crap…j’ai besoin de…bathroom. No, toilet! I need a toilet!”
The woman regarded her with a deadpan expression. She slowly looked Sadie over. Then, to her relief, the guard led her out of the cell and to a small closet.
“Toilette,” she grunted.
The bathroom was shabbier than any gas station restroom that Sadie had ever had the misfortune to use, but she accepted it gladly. The guard watched her hover over the seat, but Sadie ignored her.
When she was finished, the lady led her back to the cell. She pushed Sadie inside and locked the door.
“Ma’am! Madame! Aidez-moi!”
Sadie slumped back on the bed, working up the desire to finish counting bottles of beer. Fortunately, the woman came back into the room. This time, she was accompanied by a tall, broad-shouldered man.
“You are Sadie Miller?” he asked in accented English. Like that of the female guard, his face didn’t display any emotion, or cause for his visit.
“Yes. I want to speak to the American Embassy!” Sadie tried to keep her anger at bay. She didn’t want to piss off the only people who would talk to her or even acknowledge her presence. “But first, I want to know why I’m here! I didn’t do anything.”
He shook his head. “The jewelry man says you stole.”
Sadie opened her mouth to argue, but the man cut her off. “I do not come to tell you this. I am here to help you fix the problem. Okay?”
She nodded quickly, pressing against the bars. “I’m listening.”
The man gestured to her cot. “Please, sit down.” He nodded to his partner and she disappeared, returning with two folding chairs.
“Now Ms. Miller, you want to call the embassy. I do not think that is such a good idea.”
Sadie frowned. “Why not?”
He waved his hands around, as if trying to find the right words. “Because they follow rules, they want details. It all gets messy. We want to keep this as clean as possible. Tu comprends?”
Sadie nodded slowly, then shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t.”
The man sighed. “Ms. Miller, it’s very simple. The vendor wants justice. You want this to go away. A few words from me, this problem—gone!” He snapped his fingers dramatically.
Sadie eyed him warily. “And you’ll just talk to him for me?” Sadie knew she was many things: funny, sassy, occasionally bratty; but stupid, she was not.
Sure enough, the familiar grin slid across his face. She might not understand everything he said, but apparently, that leer was the same worldwide. “I will talk to him for you. If you do something for me in return.”
Sadie looked from one captor to the other. The woman hadn’t so much as made a sound during the course of the conversation. However, her gaze never left Sadie’s face. The effect was extremely unnerving and Sadie felt herself squirming on the cot.
She looked back at the man. “You want to fuck me and I don’t even know your name.”
“Call me Monsieur.”
She gestured to his silent sidekick. “I guess she’s Madame?”
“No, she’s Therese.”
“Does she ever speak?” Sadie looked at the immobile Therese. “Or move?”
He chuckled. “She will when the time is right. Now, do we have a deal?”
She looked him over. “What if I want to stop?”
“You may stop anytime you want.”
Sadie took a deep breath. “Fine. I agree.”
If Sadie was going to be perfectly honest with herself, she’d admit that she’d been ready to say yes when she first realized what he was going to ask. She wasn’t horny, and he wasn’t particularly good looking. It was something else, something primal about him. She’d seen it glint in his eyes. Besides, she was curious how the mysterious Therese fit into the picture.
Monsieur’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Bon. Therese, la porte.”
The woman stood up and unlocked the door of the cell. Monsieur said something to her in rapid French that Sadie didn’t catch. Therese stood next to her and gestured for her to stand.
Sadie stood and Therese started pulling at her clothes. At the woman’s wordless direction, Sadie slipped off her shoes and pulled off her socks. She winced as her feet hit the grimy floor, praying that it had been cleaned sometime recently. Therese removed Sadie’s shirt and jeans. Sadie assumed that Monsieur was giving her orders. He spoke; Therese acted and then waited for him to speak again.
Therese then turned Sadie around and bent her over the cot. Sadie balanced herself on her elbows as the other woman gently pushed her legs apart. Monsieur barked another command, and Therese took up her post in the corner.
Sadie stayed still, waiting for something to happen. Her nerves stood on end, and she hung her head, trying to keep herself together. A moment late
r, she felt a touch so light, she thought she had imagined it. The pressure came a little harder the second time, and this time spread over her butt and the backs of her legs. The motion pulled against her panties, rubbing against her clit. She tried to arch herself against the fabric, but the hands stopped and held her still.
He placed a finger on her pussy, then slid it inside her. “Wet already? Therese, I think our little American slut is ready.”
Therese nodded, but Sadie was sure the woman hadn’t understood him. Monsieur pulled her panties down and continued to finger-fuck her until her legs started to sag. He withdrew from her, and she waited eagerly, sure his dick would follow.
Instead, his hand collided loudly with her cheeks. Sadie jumped, ass smarting.
“What the hell! You wanted to fuck.”
He didn’t say anything, but just rubbed his target until the stinging subsided. Sadie instinctively looked at Therese, but the woman’s eyes were fixed on Sadie’s butt. To Sadie’s surprise, her mouth was slightly parted and her hands were clutched together. Sadie willed herself to relax.
SMACK!
He spanked her again, then again on the other cheek. “Do you like that?” he murmured.
SMACK!
“Therese likes to watch.” SMACK. “And I like the way your derriere moves when I hit it.”
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.
Sadie braced herself for the next one, but it didn’t come. Another peek at Therese told her the woman was waiting as well.
Monsieur laughed deep in his throat. “You never know when it’s coming. I might want to caress it,” he rubbed his hands gently over her ass, running his nails over the skin. Sadie’s hips bucked, the almost ticklish sensation driving her closer to the edge.
“But then, other times, I like it rough.”
SMACK!
He smacked her again, affectionately this time. He rubbed her legs briskly, then called Therese. He pulled Sadie up and Therese sat on the bed in front of her. Monsieur eased Sadie back down over her lap. Therese’s hands eased their way into Sadie’s hair, her breasts pressing gently against Sadie’s head.
“Un.”
Sadie was so shocked to hear the woman speak, the slap took her by surprise. Therese’s fingers tugged her hair excitedly.
“Deux.”
“Trois.”
The smacks came in quick succession, the vibrations spiraling deep within her already sensitive ass.
“Quatre.”
Sadie moaned, waiting for the next slap.
Therese didn’t disappoint her. “Cinq.”
She groaned, surprised to notice how turned on she was. She wrapped her arms around Therese, gripping her waist.
“Five more, Ms. Miller.”
The next three came quickly, each harder than the last. Then Therese stopped counting. Sadie plowed her head into the woman’s stomach, trying to force the next command from her. But she remained silent and Monsieur’s hand drew lazy circles across her flesh.
Sadie dug her nails into Therese’s back. The woman gasped. “Neuf.”
SMACK!
“Dix.”
Sadie steeled herself as Monsieur spanked her a final time. She cried out, pressing her face deeper into Therese’s lap.
“Ms. Miller? It is done.” Monsieur pulled her up, holding her steady. Sadie opened her eyes, to find Therese watching her. Unlike before, she offered a small smile. Sadie returned it, while waiting for her lower half to regain feeling.
True to his word, Monsieur spoke with her accuser and Sadie was released two hours later.
The next morning, Sadie passed the merchant who had accused her of stealing his wares. As she fingered a silver bracelet on his table, she wondered what a second offense would cost her.
PLEASANT SURPRISE
Maria Grigoriadis
1
Sometimes I think I am the luckiest woman in the world. Especially when I’m least expecting it. One night I was in my apartment watching TV all alone, minding my own business, when the doorbell rang. I answered it to find this cute woman I’d never seen before standing there.
“Hi,” she said. “Are you ready?”
“Umm sure, I guess, for what?”
“Oh, you’re funny tonight, aren’t you?”
I was so confused. I didn’t mean to be funny. I didn’t even know what the hell was going on.
“Are you going to let me stand out here in the hallway, or are you going to invite me in?”
I didn’t want to be rude, so I invited her in. When I said before she was cute, I wasn’t kidding. She had a great little body that was evident even through the clothes she was wearing. Her jeans fit her so well I’d have been jealous of her, if her ass hadn’t looked so appealing in them. She had on a tight T-shirt that showed off muscles she had obviously worked really hard to achieve. By the time I closed the door behind her and turned around to ask her who she was and what she was doing there, she had taken off her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She didn’t need one, really. Her breasts were small, but oh god were they beautiful. And apparently, it was colder in my apartment than I thought it was. Without her shirt on, it was delightfully obvious that her well-muscled arms were not the only part of her body that she had worked to perfection. Staring at her, I realized I just wanted to lick her abs. She was tan, though not overly so, and she had no tan lines. Nice touch, I thought. Before I could open my mouth to ask her all the questions I had for her, she rushed over to me, put her index finger to my mouth and shushed me.
“No talking, remember?”
Actually no, I don’t remember, I thought. But, now I was really hoping that she would refresh my memory. She took my hand and led me around my apartment, until she found what she was looking for. When we got into the bathroom, she turned on the light and ran the water for the shower. Then she took off her jeans. No underwear. I was really beginning to like my newly found friend. She placed both of my hands on her breasts and then leaned in and kissed me on the mouth. Her tongue explored my mouth, while my hands did the same to her breasts. I tried once again to speak, but she bit my lower lip.
“I thought I said no talking.”
This time her tone was stern, with a hint of annoyance. I could see that she had blood on her lips from where she’d bitten mine. This was getting serious, but my curiosity got the better of me, and I put my arms around her and began kissing her neck. This seemed to relax her and make her happy. She put her hands between our bodies, pushed me back a little bit, and began unbuttoning my jeans. She slid my pants and underwear to the floor together. I stepped out of my clothes. I reached for the buttons on my shirt, but she grabbed my hand and shook her head no. She unbuttoned my shirt for me and I could see surprise in her eyes when she saw I was not wearing a bra tonight either. She put her mouth on my breast and began rolling her tongue around my nipple. I ran my hands through her hair as she made my nipple hard in her mouth. She did the same to my other breast and I could feel the wetness between my legs. A moan escaped my mouth. She looked up at me, smiled, and guided us into the shower.
I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a shower more in my entire life. Having her hands all over me as she shampooed my hair and washed my body was amazing. Her hands were so gentle as they made their way around my body. Although the water was steaming hot, I was shivering from pleasure and anticipation of what was to come. She would stop every few minutes to kiss me and occasionally wink at me and smile. I couldn’t help but laugh. Who was this woman? And how had I ended up naked with her in my shower? I had so many questions for her, but I didn’t want her to stop if I spoke, so I made better use of my mouth. I returned all of her kisses with a passion that surprised me, given that she was a stranger. I made my way around her body and kissed the back of her neck and her back as I reached around and held her breasts in my hands.
2
This time I was the one who led her around my apartment. When we got to my bedroom, I motioned for her to lie down on my bed. At first I just looked at her. Lyin
g there. Beautiful. Naked. Waiting for me. Waiting to be touched, kissed. Waiting for me to put my hands on her, in her. I got into bed next to her and propped myself up on my elbow. I continued to stare at her as I ran my fingers gently down her body, from her mouth, to her neck, between her breasts, down her belly to the hair between her legs. I lingered here as I twirled the hair between my fingers and watched her close her eyes and tilt her head back a bit. I rolled on top of her and used my eager mouth to travel the same path as my hand had just taken. With one breast in my mouth, teasing her nipple with my tongue, I squeezed the other nipple between my thumb and index finger. She sat up quickly and gave me a hurt look.
“Oww,” she cried out. “That hurt.”
“No, no. No talking. Relax. Lie back down.”
I met her stare for a moment. When she didn’t do as I told her, I kissed her hard on the mouth and forced her back down with the weight of my body. Good girl, I thought, as she stopped resisting me and I felt her body relax under mine. I don’t know who you are, or why you came to my door, but now that you’re here in my bedroom, it’s my bed and my rules, I thought. I positioned my legs between hers and spread them apart. Sliding my hand between her legs, I felt her wetness. I teased her by sliding my finger around her clit, putting only the one finger in her. She arched her hips up to meet my hand each time I entered her. I could feel the rhythm of a woman who had been fucked before and needed it again.
I gave her what she came for. I wrapped my free arm under her and around her waist and then I drove my index and middle fingers into her deeply. She cried out again, but not a word was spoken. I matched the rhythm of her hips. After all, this was her fuck. I was here for her pleasure. Her moans were intoxicating to me. Everything else melted away around us. All I could see was her. All I could hear was her pleasure. All I could smell was her. I continued fucking her, putting three fingers inside and using my thumb to rub her clit. Soon she tightened around my fingers and her clit was hard under my thumb. When she came I enjoyed it, but only for a moment. I pulled my fingers out of her and slid between her legs. I put my mouth on her clit, feeling her pulse and throb in my mouth. I licked her swollen clit gently and she shuddered as I did so.