“I’m not so sure you have,” he said thoughtfully. “Take off your panties and sit on the table. Legs spread. Do it quickly. I can’t spend all day disciplining my wayward staff.”
She wasn’t sure what she expected, but she obeyed. She slipped off her panties and laid them on the edge of the solid wood table. Then she hopped up on the high table, skirt hiked up so she could spread her legs. She fought the urge to close her legs and kept her hands balled at her sides as Vincent stared at her.
“You look like a most delicious tart,” Vincent said. “I am quite certain you are a tart, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Vincent came toward her with another dollop of strawberry jam on his fingers. “Are you a strawberry tart, Bernadette?”
She shook her head.
He smeared the berry filling on her bare pussy. “Now you are a strawberry tart.”
She wriggled on the table, feeling the jam slide down between her swollen, wet lips. Aching to relieve the building pressure in her cunt, she pressed her thighs together quickly and tightened her muscles. It wasn’t enough, but for a moment it felt delicious.
“Stop that. Spread your legs and sit still.”
She took a breath and did as he demanded. She was still holding her breath when he braced his hands on her thighs and spread them wider. The breath came out in a rush and a moan when he lowered his head and licked a line up between the lips of her pussy.
“Strawberry tart,” he said, moving up to kiss her. “Taste yourself.”
She parted her lips for his tongue, tasting the sweetness of the strawberry and the musky taste of her arousal. She whimpered into his open mouth, thighs quivering beneath his powerful hands.
Pulling away, he bent again to lick at her pussy. “You are dripping strawberries, Bernadette.”
She waited for another kiss and was rewarded by the hard press of his mouth on hers. He brought his hands up to her breasts and rubbed his callused thumbs over her sensitive nipples. Holding them between his thumbs and index fingers, he bent again to her pussy. One, two, three more laps as he tugged and pulled at her nipples. She squirmed on the edge of the table, whimpering as the ovens rumbled and hissed behind her.
“More of you than the strawberries now,” he said, rising to kiss her again. “You taste sweet, Bernadette. You taste like the bakery.”
She whimpered at his slow teasing and kissed him wildly, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, licking away her taste so that he would want another. She clutched at the edge of the table as he sucked each of her nipples into his mouth on his return trip to her pussy. Her thighs quivered in an effort to stay still as Vincent lapped enthusiastically at her wetness. She watched his dark head, still dusted with flour, working between her thighs. If this were punishment, she would have to find a way to be very, very bad every day.
Two things happened at once. The buzzer on the main oven sounded, announcing that a hundred or so loaves of bread were done just as Vincent sucked her slippery, swollen clit into his mouth. She arched her back and screamed over the sound of the unrelenting buzz, every muscle in her body straining toward a powerful, nearly painful, orgasm. As Vincent nursed her clit gently and tweaked her nipples with his rough fingers, she came. Spiralling waves of heat and wetness seemed to go on and on for endless minutes while the buzzer echoed her cries for more. Her orgasm rippled through her as Vincent continued to lap her sensitive pussy. Finally, he stood and gave her one quick, wet kiss before turning his attention to the business of the day. “Naughty Bernadette. If my bread is burned you are going to be severely punished.”
As he went to silence the buzzer, Bernadette tucked her breasts into her bra and pulled her panties back on. Straightening her clothes the best she could, she slipped an apron over her ravaged blouse. She wondered what Vincent might taste like covered in strawberry jam. Or her wetness.
She nodded decisively. Next time, she would be ten minutes late to work.
Watching
by Victoria Blisse
The door is ajar, not by a great deal, if someone walked past not expecting the door to be open they probably wouldn’t notice it but I am very aware of the fact it isn’t closed.
There is a draft and I can feel it as a cold caress up my naked leg and it makes me wonder if someone may be outside the room. My stomach somersaults over itself but I do not move, I promised Todd I would do this. I take a breath and force myself to relax. I slide down over the strange duvet, the black satin covering my generous curves rising slowly up over my knee, exposing my rounded thighs and gathering at the small of my back. It uncovers my arse and sends an erotic jolt from my mind to my cunt.
I glance at the clock again and I realise I must not hesitate any longer and really I do not want to. I have waited for this for months, the long-distance words and pictures only stoking the flames of desire. The orgasms as he watched from his computer only satisfying me for brief moments. I’ve needed him here with me, watching me, hearing his breathing as he watches me; really watches me.
I use the fantasies of old to excite me. The text on the screen and the images he sent. His come on my photograph, his words caressing me, his passion for my body as he describes how he feels, how he wanks as he watches me. I remember his voice; rough with arousal calling my name as I screamed out, a plastic phallus inside me, my finger pressing with the exact pressure I needed to tip me over into the tempest of orgasm.
I hear his voice in my mind as I slide my hands over my voluptuous breasts. I can feel the hard, unyielding peaks beneath the soft give of the fabric and I squeeze my fingers together over each nipple, making them swell and pulse in time with the throbbing of my eager pussy.
I have never been able to tease myself. As much as I know he enjoys the slow build-up, I rip down the lacy frill and ease out my heavy breasts. Taking the flesh in my warm hands as I free them to the air, feeling once more the draft from the door, teasing the very tip of each nipple with its chilly caress. I warm them with my fevered fingers, trying to hold myself back, wondering if he is at the door already or if he’s even in the hotel yet. Yearning for him to enter the room and be here with me.
Cool black satin crinkles and smoothes over the swell of my tummy as I shift my hand lower. Skimming over my stomach I ignore its soft contour as now I’ve teased myself enough. I gently stroke my hot inner thigh and part it, imagining my hand is Todd’s and he’s begging me to show him my erotic secrets. I would make him beg, the idea arouses me but he wouldn’t have to beg for long. I want him to see me. I want to feel his breath on my wet parted lips as I slip my finger between them.
I imagine him there, between my wide-spread thighs, propped up on his elbows inches away from my stroking hand and my open, eager cunt. I want it so much that I prise open an eyelid to see if it is true. Of course it isn’t, I have not heard the door or felt his weight on the bed but if I wish hard enough I feel that the next time I open my eyes Todd will be there. I work on a special magical spell, a potion between my thighs that will pull him to me, bring him within touching distance. I stir the pot, left, right and back again. I sprinkle with my fingers spread, feeling the gentle taps of fingertips like raindrops as I add more to the enchantment. Each movement arouses me more, every little touch, accidental or purposeful encourages the flow of my juices and soon my fingers are slick and fragrant, calling out to be licked.
“You juicy slut.” I hear his voice, not aloud but in my mind, it encourages me to force two of my fingers inside to fill me and coat them with my juices. “Fuck, you’re so wet, you’re such a dirty, nasty girl, fingering yourself so lewdly in front of a virtual stranger.”
He’s here, and not just as a voice in my head any more, I heard the door, felt the breeze on my open, sticky thighs. I was scared for a moment, not sure who it was or what they would make of my rounded figure openly masturbating in front of an open door but then I heard him groan and I realised who it was.
“You’re so beautiful,” he gasps, pressing the d
oor closed with a reassuring ‘click’. He makes me forget all anxiety about my shape, the worries that have built up over years of being called “fat” with just that one reassuring sentence. He loves my curves. He has always said I am a real woman built right for fucking.
I can’t open my eyes; the need to see scares me to a point where I just freeze up. “Don’t stop,” he begs, “this is what I want, what I need, please, Elle. Please continue playing with that wet pussy, let me watch you.”
I open my eyes and he is walking towards me. He sits on the end of the bed and smiles at me. He throws off his jacket and I continue, my fingers play around my clit and I shudder with pleasure. I am so turned on I feel as if I might burst at any moment.
“My sweet slut,” he murmurs, “you smell so good, I knew you would.”
“Want a taste?” I cannot believe the ease with which I speak those words, the good girl in me blushes, my cheeks burn red but my cunt clenches and I realise that deep inside I really am very naughty.
“Yes, dear God, yes,” I lean forward, and he moves towards me until his thigh brushes my toes and I hold out my hand to him. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, the natural rouge of my cheeks deepens and I gasp as his lips enclose my fingers. His eyes flick open again and our gazes meet and meld as his lips exert more pressure. He laps my juices with moans and gasps that roll through my body making it long for the orgasm denied it so far.
“Keep playing,” he urges, “I need to see more.”
I move my wet fingers from his lips to my cunt and press them inside me as I watch him watching me. He shifts on the bed, I long to feel him touch me, but no, he’s shifting back a little so he can see my fingers inside me clearer.
I am desperate to come now, the play, the excitement, the reality of this moment, my fantasy come true, pushes me to the very edge of my arousal. I whimper as I strum my finger over my raging clit, the desperation transferring from my hand to my pulsing pussy and I whimper as I feel the orgasm growing inside me.
“Come for me,” he growls. I had barely realised I’d shut my eyes till that moment when they flicked open again and I see him focusing on my fingers, his hand cradling his crotch through the straining material of his trousers.
I want him, I need him, but I cannot stop myself now, the orgasm grows and blooms my fingers work hard until the internal pressure bursts and I come all over my fingers, juices streaming as I call his name.
“So sexy, so beautiful,” he moans, “I want to taste more of you.” I move my fingers from my still twitching cunt but he does not want the taste second-hand this time. He rolls between my thighs and starts to lick. He whirls his tongue across the top of one thigh and I sigh, delighted to feel his lips on me and aching to feel more.
I have come, I should be sated but no, with every movement of his lips on my thigh, with every lap of his tongue and stroke from his fingers I become more and yet more aroused.
“You taste so good,” he says, then licks higher, “so fucking good, sweet and tangy, musky and soft. I want more.”
He stops talking and starts eating at precisely the right moment and it is as if he is devouring me like a favoured meal. He starts with gentle licks that tickle and arouse my plump lips. His tongue seeks out every drop of my juice, up and down lips, under them and deeper into me. He teases me with a tongue tip, hinting at how he could fill me but retreats as if tasting hesitantly, wanting to savour the flavour and save it for the end of the meal.
He finds my clit but he is gentle with it, it is raw and throbbing with the orgasm just achieved and he knows this. His gentle tongue laps around it but never directly on it, bringing it back to arousal. Soon I feel the tension building again and I am begging him to lick my clit.
He does not rush, I have my hands in his hair and I’m pulling and twisting and pushing on his head but he stubbornly sticks to the slow licks and the teasing tempo he has already established.
It is not until I am whimpering and arching my back with need that he shouts.
“Enough.”
I freeze in place, scared by his outburst, wondering what it might mean. Slowly I open an eye as I feel his weight shift. He has lifted to his knees and he is ripping off his shirt. Button after button falls under the assault and inch by desirable inch his bare flesh comes into view. His shirt is discarded and I am still unable to move. My fingers are gripping into the bed sheets and my thighs are spread lewdly. He has not looked away from my body and is still tracing the contours of my revealed breasts as he rips down the zip on his pants and yanks his underwear down impatiently.
His cock is magnificent, hard and straining towards me, eager to feel my juicy cunt around its turgid flesh. I want to lick it, touch it, caress it and make it mine and in time, I will, I promise myself that but now I am as eager to feel him fill me as he is to be inside of me.
“Fuck me,” the words fall from my lips unbidden, as if the force of my thoughts had propelled them from my body and into the air.
“Certainly,” he replies with a wry smile and a cheeky wink. We laugh, connecting more in that moment than when his tongue was inside me. We are friends, fellow perverts and now lovers too.
He crawls forward, the trousers pulling lower down as he moves towards me. It takes a matter of seconds but feels like an eternity as I wait to feel him against me and inside me. “I’ve waited so long,” he says as he positions himself between my curvy thighs, “I am going to fuck you hard and fast, my love, I do not believe I could manage anything else right now.”
“Good,” I reply, looking directly back at him, “I need a good hard fucking from you.”
He growls and pushes forward. We are still joined by our gazes as he pushes his cock against my spread lips. We look into each other’s eyes as his cock finds my entrance and presses in. The head pierces me and the shaft follows smoothly, filling me and pushing out moans of pure unabashed pleasure from between my lips.
“You feel so good,” he gasps as he pulls back, his eyes still locked upon me, “your cunt is wetter, hotter, juicer than I’ve ever imagined, fuck, it’s perfect.”
I had never had a man wax lyrical about the features of my pussy before but I enjoy it and my cunt clenches around him in a show of appreciation for his kind words and his thick cock stretching me.
He closes his eyes as he rocks his hips forward and back creating a rhythm. I push up with my hips to meet him. I need the pressure now and the impact of pelvis against pelvis. His pace quickens and he bends over, resting his weight on his arms on either side of my shoulders.
He uses the extra grip to thrust even harder into me and I yelp with the pleasure of his cock pistoning in and out of me. It is hard and fast and I am quickly approaching orgasm.
“Fuck yes,” I cry, overwhelmed by the ecstasy caused by his movements, I reach round and grab on to him, my fingers dig into his back and I cling on wanting to feel more of his body against mine as we career along the tracks to orgasm. He powers on, his eyes flick open and our lips reach for each other and the brief kiss leaves my lips tingling.
My eyes close as I feel the tightening of my pussy and the aching of my clit, which can mean only one thing,
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” I gasp, overcome by the overwhelming need to share the obvious.
“Yes, come on my cock, you dirty slut, come all over me, I’m going to fill you, fuck yes, squeeze me, make me come.”
I follow his instructions to the letter. I yelp and dig my nails into his flesh as my pussy squeezes hard and the pleasure explodes through my body. I scream, unable to hold in the immense force of ecstasy ripping through me and as the scream peters out I hear his roar as his cock thickens and pulses inside me.
“Hi,” he says, a grin stretched across his warm pink face.
“Hey,” I giggle back as he leans in and kisses me, “how are you?”
“I am pretty damn good,” he replies, rolling to the side of me and pressing his body close, “you?”
“Fantastic,” I purr, “now you�
��re here.”
“I told you we’d make it happen, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” I roll slightly to the side and he wraps an arm around me, pulling me close to him, “I didn’t believe it ever would, it seemed so complicated.”
“Not now, it’s simple. I’m here, you’re here and fuck you’re hot.”
“I could say the same of you,” I chuckle, “but it’ll give you a big head.”
“Mmm, I thought you enjoyed my big head.” He squeezes my thigh and lets out a hearty chuckle.
“Yes, yes I did.” My cheeks flush red with embarrassment, which seems awfully silly considering just how intimate we’ve just been. “How was the journey?” I asked, simply to fill the silence.
“Oh, not so bad, thanks. I wish it had been a little quicker so I could have seen more of your show.”
“I think you saw quite a lot of it anyway,” I run my hand down his chest, enjoying the warm hardness of it beneath my fingers.
“I could never get enough of you, sweetheart, you’re addictive, I want more and more and more of your abundance.”
“Oh good, because I feel exactly the same way about you.” I beam back and lean over to kiss him, my hand skimming over his stomach and belly button as my lips meet his. They come together with such force that it sends shockwaves through my body and excites my cunt once more. The deft movements of his lips beneath mine and gentle press of his tongue into my mouth is a thing of sheer erotic beauty and I can barely move as he kisses me with such passionate precision.
I recover my senses and kiss back and my hand moves lower as if on autopilot. I skim over the top of his pubis and then dart to the left, he moans as I slip down over his hip and I caress his thigh, my fingers creeping slowly over the warm stickiness of his inner thigh. I can feel my juices there as I swirl my fingers around in a twirl and catch the side of his tightening balls.
I suck the moan from his mouth to mine and my fingers climb over on to his soft and giving balls. The skin crinkles like velvet under my touch. I can feel my sticky juices coating him still, it reminds me of the fucking he just gave me and flares my arousal once more. I kiss harder and cup his balls in my hand. He moans and presses into the warmth of my giving body, his tongue probing my mouth lewdly, making me long to be filled completely.
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