Lovehoney Erotic Fiction: Take Your Partner and Other Tales of Seduction

by Neneh Gordon

  Jenna stared at her. “What the fuck is a Big Wow?”

  “Well, exactly!” Helen smirked at her. “You know, the big O. The flashing lights, the racing heart. The big moment, the finale. The Big Wow.”

  She rolled her eyes. “We’re not seventeen anymore, we’re grown women. Can we not just call it an orgasm?”

  “Honey, you haven’t had one in a year. If you get one, you can call it whatever the hell you want.”

  Jenna groaned and looked pleadingly over to where Helen was rummaging through the chocolate box once more. “So what do you suggest then, oh wise woman of the Big Wow?”

  “I prefer goddess of filth myself, but that’ll do.” She grinned and brushed her scarlet fringe out of her eyes, apparently deep in thought. “Well, we need a plan, don’t we? You need to spice things up a bit.”

  “Spice and vanilla just don’t mix.” Jenna drew her legs up to her chin and pulled a cushion into her lap, hugging it morosely. “I suggested he cuff me to the bed once, but he was worried about damaging the bed frame.”

  Helen let out a unflattering snigger. “OK, have you tried being a bit bossy in the bedroom?”

  Jenna eyed her suspiciously. “What does that mean?”

  “You know, like a dominatrix.”

  The cushion fell to the floor and Jenna gaped at her, her olive eyes wide. “Helen, I’m not wearing PVC for any man. Fuck that.”

  “It doesn’t have to be PVC!” said Helen, her voice getting squeaky and high, as it always did when she’d got a ludicrous plan in her head. “Right, listen. If Blake isn’t interested in using the handcuffs on you, maybe he’s more into things the other way around. I know this woman whose fiancé likes her to tie him up and spank him. They belong to this forum and everything…” She trailed off, catching Jenna’s eye. “I thought you were desperate? It might be worth looking online and learning more about it, at least.”

  Jenna let out a noncommittal grunt.

  “Oh, go on, say yes. What harm will it do?”

  And so they fired up Helen’s laptop and spent the evening perusing porn sites and fetish forums, collecting ideas and having a bit of a giggle. Jenna had to admit, as time went on, the plan seemed less and less ridiculous.

  ***

  Jenna waited impatiently for him to open the bedroom door, her cleavage heaving with her every nervous breath. She could barely contain her excitement. After dropping hints all week, she had finally texted him this morning while he was an work, introducing herself as his mistress and ordering him to be home by 6 p.m. A confused series of messages followed: he seemed unable to believe that she was serious about dominating him this way. No wonder, she mused. I’ve never shown an interest in this kind of thing before.

  Smiling, she glanced at her reflection in the long mirror by their bed. Her generous cleavage was spilling out of the pink basque she was wearing. The black lace accentuated every curve while the ruffled skirt skimmed past her stomach. She held the long black riding crop firmly in her hand. She felt gorgeous, and ready to ride the fuck out of her man. Where the hell was he?

  Suddenly the door swung open. There was a startled gasp as the man standing in the doorway stared at her, shocked. Jenna thrust her breasts out at him, placing one hand on her hip and allowing the other to clasp the riding crop against her bare thigh.

  “You’re late,” she said firmly.

  Blake’s eyes widened as he took in more of the scene that surrounded him. Their bedroom, usually so normal, had been transformed into a boudoir. Black silk sheets adorned the bed, candles scattered along the windowsill gave the only light and a quick glance at the bedside showed a wide array of objects he had only seen before in a porno. He gulped.

  “Wow, I never expected this, it looks incredible! When did you find time to—”

  Cutting him off, she seized his hand and shoved him roughly towards the bed. Her hand reached for the bedside unit and snatched up the silver handcuffs that lay there. Blake lay stretched out on the bed, staring at his normally submissive girlfriend, confused and more than a little turned on. “Wow, baby, where have you been hiding this side of yourself?” he murmured.

  Jenna simply shook her head. She stood there for a second or two, proudly surveying the scene in front of her. Then she climbed on top of Blake, smiling wickedly and raising his hands above his head, putting a little pressure on his wrists. He bit his lip and let out a soft groan. Wordlessly, she slid the handcuffs on, shackling him to the metal headrest.

  Another moan escaped Blake’s lips. The sound of her boyfriend’s pleasure brought a familiar tingle between Jenna’s legs. She squeezed her thighs together, enjoying the warm sensations spreading throughout her. Suddenly a bold idea struck her, and the thought of it made her pussy wet. Jenna hooked her thumbs into her black french knickers and slid them down her thighs. Lifting one leg at a time, she deftly removed them and threw them behind her. Blake, who had been watching intently, began to murmur appreciatively.

  “Lick my pussy,” she growled at him.

  A sharp intake of breath from Blake.

  “Mmmmm. Untie me, and I will.” He pushed against his restraints as if to demonstrate.

  Jenna smiled demurely.

  “No.”

  His face instantly creased into a frown. Jenna enjoyed watching his confusion. She knew he was wondering how he could pleasure her if he couldn’t move. She would show him. She hopped onto the bed, kneeling at his side. Blake was still staring at her, apparently baffled. She placed one knee against her own pillow, grabbed hold of the metal headrest and swung one leg over Blake, leaving her thighs resting against his ears. “I told you to eat my pussy,” Jenna demanded snappily, and she thrust herself right into his face. She smothered him in her hot juices as she began to rub herself across his lips.

  “Mmmmph,” came the shocked mumble from beneath her, before Blake seized hold of his senses and obliged. Jenna felt his lips part against her own and his warm, desperate tongue started sliding across her. Taking her lead, his usual gentle caress that had no effect on her had been lost, making way for a hungry, firm technique. His tongue swirled across her slit, melting into her wetness with ease. He began gliding upwards towards her aching mound. His tongue began flicking against her throbbing clitoris. He kept the speed a constant, flicking and pressing his tongue against her, as continuous and precise as a heartbeat.

  Pleasure flooded through her, but just as she felt she couldn’t take any more, the flicking came to an abrupt halt. Jenna could feel the warmth of his lips against her as he inhaled and drew her in, sucking her clit fiercely. The pressure was too much and she gasped, grinding herself harder against him. Blake let out a murmur against her clit. The vibrations from the sound drove Jenna wild and her hips bucked beneath her. Blake, somehow sensing her need like never before, released her and began trailing his tongue back down, licking his way across her luscious swollen flesh.

  Slowly, torturously, he reached her entrance. Jenna felt as though every nerve ending in her body was on fire, her pussy pulsating with need. She needed him inside her now, fuck these games. Blake seemed to understand. He wriggled beneath her and pressed his nose against her clit, applying a welcome feeling of pressure. Then, after a slight pause, he parted her tender lips with the tip of his tongue and slid himself into her.

  “Oh my God.” Shock pulsed through Jenna as Blake began tonguing her. He normally opted for a soft, unassuming lovemaking, but here he was fucking her wildly with his mouth. His tongue thrust its way in and out of her eager pussy, and Jenna began grinding his face in time to the thrusts, desperate to feel him deeper. Somehow Blake didn’t forget her clit either but continued to firmly press his nose against her swollen pearl as he tongued her furiously.

  Suddenly the sensations were overwhelming. Jenna curled her toes as she felt the familiar wave, the one she hadn’t felt for so long. It came over her with such intensity, all she could do was shut her eyes and push herself harder into Blake’s face. All at once, the world stopped and he
r orgasm drowned her.

  “Fuck!” she screamed as she came, arching her back and panting for breath.

  Blake rode her orgasm out with her, his rhythm matching hers as she writhed against his face. As she felt the fireworks fade away, Jenna shuffled backwards until she was astride Blake’s hips once more.

  “God, that was so sexy, seeing you come like that because of me,” Blake breathed.

  So caught up in her own pleasure, she’d yet to feel the extent of Blake’s own excitement, but here it was, rubbing against her own wetness. His cock was rock hard beneath his trousers, straining to be released from its confines. Jenna wriggled her hips against it, brushing her orgasm-flushed lips across the desperate hardness.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she said, glancing down at Blake’s face. She saw him gulp, anticipating what was coming next. Jenna stroked her fingers across his excited nipples, before ripping the buttons of his shirt open and displaying his bare chest.

  “Mmmm,” she purred. “Better.” She began to rake her manicured red nails down his chest, enjoying the sharp jagged breaths she was drawing from him. When her nails reached his belly button, she stroked gentle circles around it and leaned in closer to trace kisses across his nipples as she did so. She began teasing him, dragging her teeth across one erect bud. Blake whimpered. She’d never seen him like this, so powerless beneath her control. She was surprised by how much of a thrill she was getting from dominating him. Her warm kisses became firmer as she began to make an agonisingly slow trail down towards the sparse gathering of hair that showed just above his waistband.

  Once Jenna reached the waist of Blake’s trousers, she stroked her fingers across the yearning bulge she found there. She eased the zip down. Blake had closed his eyes blissfully. Don’t get too comfortable yet, Jenna thought wickedly.

  “Lift your hips,” she demanded coolly. Blake was only too keen to obey and with one fluid motion Jenna yanked off both his trousers and boxers.

  Remembering something, Jenna scrambled across to the bedside table once more to reach for the silken object that lay within her grasp. “What are you doing?” Blake asked, straining to look.

  “You’ve seen more than enough this evening, I’m not allowing you to see any more,” said Jenna, and with that she slid a soft black blindfold over his face. “Do you trust me?” she intoned more quietly.

  “Of course,” he breathed. She permitted herself a small nervous giggle as she brought out two more items, a luxurious red ostrich feather and the riding crop she’d been holding earlier.

  Jenna glanced at her boyfriend’s smooth pale skin beneath her, completely at her mercy. She clasped the feather in her hand and began stroking it across Blake’s chest. He jumped a little under the unexpected touch, but his face softened and relaxed as he started to enjoy the sensations. She traced the soft feather around his nipples and down his stomach and thighs, stroking him with her free hand and blowing gently on his skin as she did so. Silently, she brought the riding crop into her other hand. She lifted the feather away from Blake, gently tickling him with it. She began tracing the crop gently up his thigh and brought it down with a crack. Blake gasped loudly in shock. Jenna saw his cock stiffen even more and the sight spurred her on. She continued alternating the soft stroke of the feather with the cruel sting of the crop while her boyfriend writhed and moaned under her.

  Slowly Jenna started to lick up Blake’s firm thigh, so close to his cock now that she could press the tip of her tongue to it. Blake kept thrusting his hips up to her, urging her to suck him. But he wasn’t in control today, she was, and she would have things exactly as she wanted them. Her tongue began flicking teasingly close now. Jenna drew in a soft breath over his begging cock and let it out, allowing her warm breath to coat him, promising that her lips were to follow.

  Blake let out a groan.

  But instead of her tongue, he got the lick of the whip. She slapped it against his outer thigh, which he clearly didn’t expect.

  “You haven’t earned that,” she teased him.

  Blake bit his lip and let out a deep growl of frustration. “Please,” he whispered.

  Was he begging her? Her own engorged bud throbbed at this. She owned him. She could do anything to him right now and he wouldn’t resist; he would allow her anything. “I own your ass.” She smiled down at him, horny as fuck at the realisation.

  Her burning desire to be filled was suddenly unbearable. She pulled his blindfold off, reached for his solid cock and slid herself onto it. She needed to feel him deep inside her now and to look deep into his eyes, so she bore down on him, squeezing her thighs around him and taking him into her core. She moaned as she felt him slide into her. Blake lifted his pelvis to her, mirroring her thrusts. She couldn’t bear to start slowly; instead she rode him hard. She rose up and fell crashing back to him, panting and gasping with each motion. She tore off her basque as she rode, displaying her naked form so that Blake thrashed at his restraints, desperate to touch her. She brushed her long hair from her face and lifted her arms high, posing for him. She tilted her head back and moaned, clenching her pussy muscles against Blake’s throbbing cock. “I own your cock,” she told him, grinding her hips into his. “Tell me, whose is it?”

  “It’s yours, it’s all yours,” said Blake, sweat beading on his forehead as he thrust with her. His movements were getting more desperate now; he was ramming her just as much as she was fucking him. Jenna felt her pussy tighten, knew she would come again too. She rolled her fingers over her clit as the intense wave hit her, the strong need to release. Suddenly she was spasming around Blake’s cock. This was too much for Blake. With one last thrust, he spilt himself inside her, filling every inch of her with his hot seed.

  Jenna clung tightly on to him, the edges of her own orgasm ebbing away slowly. She nuzzled his face, kissing those soft, satisfied lips of his. “Time to clean up,” she murmured.

  ***

  Helen sat gaping at her in disbelief.

  “You did that? You said that? You didn’t! Did you? Oh my god, I’ve created a monster,” she said gleefully.

  Jenna nodded proudly. “He loved it. I loved it! Everything’s changed, Helen. I came like I never have before!”

  Helen sat up excitedly. “Really?”

  “Yep, and things are so great now. He’s coming home early every day to sweep me off my feet and we spend all evening in bed. And next weekend we’re going away together.”

  “Sounds like the Big Wow was worth waiting for, then!”

  I Don’t Do This

  by G C Carmine

  I don’t do this.

  Chris knew the words were only in his head, but he was certain that he’d said them out loud at least once, and maybe even more than that. They seemed to have no impact on Jack at all, or maybe he chose not to hear them. What Chris usually did seemed not to matter to Jack one way or the other, because Jack’s tongue was tracing a slow, deliberate line up the side of his neck, and Chris was already turning his head to meet his mouth with more of those kisses that he didn’t do.

  It wasn’t a lie. So, okay, as a teenager there’d been some awkwardly traded hand-jobs with his best friend, but they’d been nothing about the person reciprocating, and everything about the sheer desperation of feeling someone else’s, anyone else’s, hand on his cock. There had been no kissing, no desire to increase the contact to anything more than the bare necessity to get the job done. Nothing that meant anything, or changed his perception of who or what he was.

  Nothing like Jack.

  He should have seen this coming. He’d known that his constant awareness of Jack’s proximity was something above and beyond the ordinary. The way his heart beat a little faster whenever Jack was in the room, the way he could sense when those grey-blue eyes were directed at him, the way he couldn’t help breathing a little deeper whenever he caught Jack’s scent in the air; he knew that kind of hyper-awareness meant something, and yet he was still unprepared for it to mean this.

 
The roughness of day-old stubble against his fingers should have felt strange, a reminder of the fundamental wrongness of parting his lips to allow another man’s tongue to slide into his mouth. Instead it felt electric, like thousands of bright points of energy firing into his skin, the perfect counterpoint to the softness of Jack’s lips and the hot, wicked wetness of his tongue.

  They were breathing each other’s air, hands holding one another’s faces as if to prevent them pulling away, despite the fact that they were equally invested in the moment. Finally Jack seemed to accept that Chris wasn’t going anywhere, and his hands drifted down to grasp his hips, his thumbs sneaking under the hem of Chris’s T-shirt, tracing slow, lazy circles against his skin. Chris shivered.

  I don’t do this…

  The thought was more of a question than a statement now. He’d never even imagined himself with another guy before. He’d been in relationships, some of them long term, and figured he’d probably had a better than average sex life. He’d never had a sense that he could be missing out in any way; he enjoyed fucking women, so why the hell was he so turned on doing… this with Jack?

  “You’re overthinking it,” Jack murmured when he finally broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Chris’s as his thumbs continued their teasing little caresses.

  Chris nearly blurted out that he wasn’t like him, that he didn’t do this with guys, but what was the point? He’d already tried, and whatever his brain was telling him, his body was right there, responding to Jack already. Jack’s face was too close to his own for him to focus on, so he looked down at Jack’s body instead, and the idea that he would get the chance to run his hands over all that lean muscle made his breath catch in his throat. Jack was a runner; his body was all long graceful lines, with narrow hips and broad shoulders. Chris let his hands fall to Jack’s biceps, gripping tightly enough to reassure him that he was not pushing him away, and incidentally allowing himself to feel the latent strength in Jack’s arms.

  I don’t do this, but I want to.