“I love you,” she gasped, swallowing his cum and licking her lips.
“I love you too,” he groaned as he pulled away from between her thighs, pulling what was left of her chocolate lover with him.
“Thank you for the threesome,” she smiled as they untangled and rearranged themselves head to head. He kissed her and they shared the lingering flavour of lust once more. “That is now officially my favourite way to enjoy chocolate,” she said.
“I agree,” he replied. He had become a chocolate lover too.
Mama Nana
by Alcamia
One day, I met Mama Nana and I fell in love.
At the time, I was living with my sister Simone in Paris, and she suggested I pay a visit to a small local haunt, called the Tidy Bar. ‘There’s no place like it, Michael, you’ll absolutely love it,’ she enthused. ‘It’s a shabby-looking place on the outside, but it’s owned by the fabulous Nana, and the ambiance and jazz piano are out of this world.’
The Tidy Bar was innocuous; it had dirty windows and a faded sign, and from out of the door, which was always open, trickled the delicious aroma of exotic food and the clink of frequently refilled glasses. It was enough to make me salivate and so, I was soon to find out, was Nana.
I decided to take my current girlfriend, the svelte and fabulous Maxine, to the Tidy Bar. Maxine possessed a lithe, athletic body. She had long, elegant limbs, which she stretched and flexed constantly, and musculature that would not have been out of place on a racehorse.
‘Shit, there’s a birthday party going on,’ Maxine whispered behind her hand, as she sat down with a sigh at the table. ‘I think we ought to leave. I hate loud birthday parties, don’t you, Michael?’
‘No, we’ll stay. Despite appearances to the contrary, I have it on good authority that the food here is to die for.’
Shrugging, Maxine arrogantly flicked her long hair out of her face.
I heard Nana before I actually saw her. As I was soon to discover, everything about the astonishing Nana was larger than life, and her voice was as astounding as the rest of her. It had the musical quality of a husky jazz singer, low and mellow, with a mellifluous seductive undertone, punctuated with raucous and highly infectious laughter. It was a sex voice, so alluring and dirty you couldn’t help turning to see where it was coming from.
Maxine leant across the table. ‘Good Lord. Did you ever hear anything so loud, and did you see the size of her? It’s indecent. It shouldn’t be allowed in public.’
Mama Nana presided over a table like a queen holding court, entrancing a party of men. I swear I’d never seen a woman quite like her before. She was striking and so overblown that she made me blink. Nana’s skin was the colour of ebony, and she had a pert mouth and white teeth that flashed joyously when she laughed. Her hair was braided in a complicated confection of corn rows and ersatz paper flowers and she wore a bright jungle-patterned corset which forced her breasts up like two meringues over the fabric.
I stared at her and Nana looked up, winked at me and, opening her mouth, saucily pushed in a whole caramel éclair and licked the cream from around her lips with her pink tongue. I dropped my knife with a clatter, and my cock, which until this moment had been dormant, leapt to attention. I was fascinated by Nana because I’d rarely seen such fulsome beauty. My cheeks burned bright red. It was instant attraction, instantaneous mental and emotional bondage.
I can divide my life into two distinct time periods: pre-Nana and post-Nana. When I was in pre-Nana mode I would never look at a woman more than a size twelve. I was attracted to slinky, feline women with attitude, and the slimmer the better. I adored staring at girls in low-slung hipster jeans, with flat bellies and non-existent busts exhibited beneath knitted skin-tight tank tops and T-shirts. I admired their fragility and flat bellies. I got off on the thought of running my hands over perky little tits and flat, sexless bottoms. I think I enjoyed boyish nubile fragility and observing the frantic way my lively dick burrowed away in small, tight holes. I mistakenly thought my psychological profile dictated that to experience an earth-shattering climax, I needed the lithe sinuosity of athletic shapes and emaciated bodies to feed my fantasy.
Maxine sprung to her feet, overturning her chair with a clatter. ‘You can’t take your eyes off her, Michael. Whatever’s wrong with you? Why do you keep staring at that oversized whore? I’m leaving.’
‘Fine by me,’ I said with uncharacteristic levity.
To be honest, I felt as if my eyes were cemented to Nana by some form of sexual adhesive. This was the time before cigarettes were banned from cafés, and I watched, hypnotised, as Nana took tobacco out of a beaded pouch and folded a roll up with her bejewelled fingers. On the table was an ivory box and out of the box she extracted a long amber cigarette holder. The men rushed forward like wasps circling a honey pot, clamouring over delicious Nana. Young boys, older men, nobody seemed immune to her larger-than-life, femme-fatale chemistry. They all leant forward flicking lighters and striking matches, while, roaring with laughter, Nana waved her hands, finally accepting a light off a pale blond boy with hair down past his shoulders. Her wanton decadence amused me.
I’m a writer and I like to think I’m a good observer of human behaviour, but I’d never observed behaviour quite like Nana’s. Already, I was in a state of rampant and agonising arousal, and I don’t think I’d ever experienced such a hard-on. My dick was instantly so rigid it was pressing painfully against my zipper. In a desperate attempt at relieving myself, I had to make a rather unsatisfactory exit to the gents’ toilets, where, slamming the door, I set to work liberating the bony reprobate and giving myself a most satisfactory hand job to the distant musical accompaniment of Nana’s mirth.
Mama Nana reminded me of a girl called Benita, whom I’d met when I travelled to New Orleans. It struck me now – as I suffered another bolt of agonising arousal – that Nana shared the strange sexual aura as Benita. Benita had been a huge woman by anybody’s standards. She’d seen me staring and fixed me with her black eyes. Splaying her huge legs, she flirted with me while sucking me down into a deep tingling pool of excitement. Her skin glistened and she had a manner of stroking her long fingers very suggestively through her sleek black hair. I’d had the best affair of my life with Benita, who seemed to experience joy and orgasmic overdrive in any position or place I cared to name. She would wantonly strip off items of clothing and display herself whenever she felt like it. I experienced torrid sex in doorways and streets and up against lampposts, and with this sex came a liberation I’d never had before. Benita’s voluptuous body encompassed me and squeezed the sex out of me like a sponge, and I loved every moment. Voluptuous sirens, I discovered, seemed to possess a magical property which the slimmer girls did not, namely a feral abandonment, and a certain joie de vivre coupled with the most insane sexual appetite. I’d do anything to date a slim woman but my libido never responded in quite the same way as it did to a damsel of extravagant proportions. It was as if my dick assumed a whole new identity with the Nanas of this world and it couldn’t wait to escape my pants.
The Tidy Bar didn’t close very early, and the door remained open. It was a sultry and oppressive night. A waiter brought out a brimming meringue confection and the flock of assiduous studs sang “Happy Birthday” while Mama Nana, pursing her large and luscious lips, blew out her candles with a giggle.
As the night wore on, I watched, mesmerised, as Nana became sexually looser, her laughter more basso profundo and suggestive. Each time one of the men caused her to giggle, it was as if he depressed a magical switch and Nana’s Rubenesque physique trembled with volcanic intensity. The delight rose up from her belly and her frame trembled with erotic promise, each inch of her delectable flesh rippling like molten lava. The pale boy sat on her lap and, as she stroked his hair, I saw his hand slip down between the folds of Nana’s corset to caress the jiggling breasts. The scene reminded me of the way my grandmother fondled her cat; but there was a great deal of affection in the purring fond
ling, and there were sexual undercurrents in the air that crackled like electricity. Cutting a slice of cake, Nana fed it to the blond youth, who licked the confection from around his mouth while Nana dabbed at his lips with a napkin. A large breast had somehow struggled free of her corset and I felt my heart palpitate as her huge, black nipple perkily angled towards me in greeting. Soon I noticed the hand of one of the men sliding up Nana’s thigh, higher and then higher still. I’m sure that hand stayed under her skirt for quite some time while her lover manipulated her fanny, because a strange erotic brilliance lit Nana’s eyes, and she seemed thoughtful, as if she were holding her breath. The thought of the hand and what it was feeling really fired me up. I was uncomfortably hot and aroused, stirred by salacious sexual sensations and awakenings.
Gradually the men ebbed away and the bar emptied. I realised there was nobody left except me and Nana, who every so often dipped her finger in the remains of her cake and, holding it up and looking at me, inserted it suggestively into her mouth. ‘Come here, sexy,’ she said, crooking her finger and sitting down at the piano. ‘Come and join me. You look lonely without your girlfriend.’
Her fingers rippled up and down the keys, and Nana began a low resonant humming. She was an incredibly good pianist and she had a seductive blues voice, which could have put many professionals to shame.
‘You have a great voice.’
Nana winked at me, flashing her incredible teeth. ‘Yes, I have many talents, or so I’m told.’
I could have listened to her all night, but eventually Nana stood up and went and sat back down at the table. ‘You look very sad without your girlfriend.’
‘Oh, not really. Maxine wasn’t my thing. She had an extremely short fuse.’
‘Thin women always have short fuses,’ Nana said. ‘That’s because they spend too much time analysing and stopping what goes into their mouths and it makes them irritable and sexually dry. I live for sex, you know, I’m a sexual machine, there’s nothing better than a fabulous shag. Personally I never worry about what goes into my mouth or the fact that I’m just a little on the large side. I indulge myself and the food gives me pleasure. It stokes up my sexual machinery. I simply love food and wine and men.’ She leant closer to me. ‘My darling, I adore fucking and plenty of it with lots of variation. The happier I am and the more I eat, the more elated I become, and the more mind-blowing the sex becomes. You know, I’ve had many lovers, and they all find me adorable.’
I was so intrigued by Nana I believed I was within the firm bondage of a witch of the pleasure variety, and she’d woven a spell of cosmic enchantment over me.
‘You have a naughty look about you with those cunning devilish eyes. I love a man who puts his soul and all of his feelings into his eyes. I can also tell you’re dying to stick your dick inside Nana.’ Saucily cupping her breasts in both hands, she did a shimmy, and for a flicker of a second I had a fabulous view of her other extravagant breast.
I noticed she wore coloured sandals with beads, and each of her toenails was painted a different colour. I was sure I’d never seen feet quite as beautiful as Nana’s; they were small and perfect and they were so smooth they looked like a child’s. I had a sudden urge to sink on to my knees and take Nana’s feet and caress them. I wanted them in my hands, in my mouth, tickling my cock.
‘You’re so sexy and you have a really cheeky little cock,’ she whispered huskily, her hands combing through my hair. ‘How do you fancy a real woman, because I could certainly eat you all up?’ Then she gave me a wry smile.
My eyes dropped lower to her heaving bosom, and I was delighted to see that the other breast that had been threatening to escape from Nana’s excruciatingly tight corset had now succeeded, and its warm, textured, satin nipple was tentatively brushing my arm. My hand, seemingly assuming a life of its own, was compelled to reach out and touch the tantalising flesh. I trailed my finger down her cleavage and Nana shrieked with enjoyment. The shrieking seemed to once again set in motion her body, which began to surge and tremble like some wonderful fairground ride. Her breasts shuddered and shook and her nipples, if it were at all possible, hardened even more invitingly.
‘I want to fuck you, Nana. I want to fuck you in every possible way I can think of.’
‘Oh! I know that.’ Before I could stop her, Nana’s hand was on my crotch and she had fastened her long fingernails around my cock. Grinning at me, she began to squeeze harder and harder until my alarm changed to pleasure and the pain became an erotic charge. My dick jerked and jumped as Nana gripped it with even more ferocity. ‘It feels so lively, I expect it would enjoy being buried up to the hilt in Nana’s mountain, wouldn’t it?’ She sighed as her arm snaked around my waist while her other hand began to dance up and down my pole, long fingers stroking and scratching, rubbing and squeezing. ‘Ooh, you’re such a big, juicy boy.’
I wanted to pillow my head on her huge breasts, be consumed by the bounteous corpulent generosity of both her body and spirit, lose myself in the deep velvet prison of her sex. With a suffocating sense of joy my whole being tingled at the thought of becoming lost in a copious ocean of rippling, sexually potent flesh. ‘Oh, you’re gorgeous,’ I said.
Nana’s bedroom could not properly be called a bedroom at all; boudoir would have been a better word for it. It was as if she’d infected the room with her decorative and flamboyant nature. The ambiance was one of simmering sexual anticipation, an unctuous confection of scents and colours and opulent decadence. I threw myself down on the ornate Spanish bed and spread out my limbs on plush, thick cushions while Nana treated me to a fabulous striptease. First, she unlaced her corset, teasing me with the sight of her quivering huge breasts and fabulous tits. Then, placing her leg on the bed, she slowly rolled down her stockings. Unfastening the catch of her skirt, she let it fall away to reveal her curvaceous hips. Licking her lips with her little pink tongue, Nana began to roll and knead her sumptuous flesh before kneeling on the bed and lowering herself perilously close to my rearing organ.
‘Would you like Nana’s big bazookas on your little friend?’ Nana crooned as she massaged the impressive breasts with her hands. ‘Well, oil them for me, darling, and in return I’ll treat you to such a surprise you won’t believe. You see, I do so love having my tits and cunt well oiled.’ And, winking at me, she handed me a pot of sweet-smelling oils. Nana took my hand, pressed it to her huge bosoms and made me fondle and caress them until they shone like two pendulous black pearls. Nana leant right over me and, encompassing my cock with her breasts, she pressed together the huge cushions. Effectively sandwiching my now bursting cock, she made me slide up and down her cleavage until I exploded. Nana gave a wild whoop of delight, kissed me hard on the mouth, reared up and slathered my copious ejaculate on her tits before leaning back, pushing her finger under her knicker elastic and coyly pulling the panties aside, vibrating her voluptuous hips. I couldn’t take my eyes off the sexy black panties that held the luscious, ripe, wet fruit beneath them because Nana was wet, very wet. She eased down the tiny slither of silk to reveal her plump, cavernous sex with its inviting, pouting lips. I swear she had a sex big enough to match her girth; it was amazing, a generous tasty feast waiting to be assaulted by my aching cock.
‘Come and see what Mama Nana’s got for you,’ she crooned, holding open her arms and wriggling her tongue suggestively. I pushed my face against her engorged, soft breasts, tugging at her tits and sucking them. After a while Nana let out a cry of orgasmic excitement, so I slithered down her body and set to work on her cunt, burying my face between the trembling thighs and thrusting inside the warm world of Nana. I was an explorer setting out on a vast continent of promise. I can tell you, a size zero never presented such a plenteous panorama of possibility. When my cock eventually sunk in her lubricious, wet folds, Nana held me and rocked me. I now metamorphosed into a ship afloat a wide, tempestuous ocean. Floating smoothly along, I was subjected to a licentious feast of calm sailing, punctuated by a maelstrom of passion that threatened to
throw me loose from my sexual life raft. The huge breasts moved beneath my hands like two liquid-filled life buoys and, as if my life depended on it, I clung to them. The harder I clung the more Nana rocked and rolled.
‘I think you much prefer Mama Nana to your tiny friend, don’t you? Now you’ve had champagne mama, you’ll never settle for cheap vin rouge?’ Nana broke once more into gutsy laughter while, wrapping her huge legs around me, she gripped me in a suffocating bear hug. That was the icing on the cake, I can tell you, as the erotic sense of suffocation only heightened my ardour.
There’s no other woman in my life now because Nana understands all my quirks, and I will never tire of plotting my charted course across her vast and intriguing continent. Actually, I don’t think there’s another woman in the world like Mama Nana.
Two for One
by Kitti Bernetti
Craig’s eyes popped wide awake as one hand clamped sharply over his mouth and another invaded the space between his thighs. Before he knew it, a blindfold had been forced over his eyes and now was firmly fixed so he couldn’t see a damned thing. His heart thumped. What the hell was this?
‘Don’t move … Yet.’ The woman’s voice was young and breathy with excitement. Craig lay motionless on the pillow, his world an inky blackness. ‘Sod it,’ he thought. If only he hadn’t drunk quite so much last night he’d have woken up before this assault. Usually he slept lightly. But not when he’d had three courses for dinner, and two bottles of vintage champagne. The hotel room was quiet, the air conditioning gently humming. The only other sound was the low, sultry laugh of the woman next to him. What crazy sort of game was this? He listened for clues. He’d have taken bets she wasn’t skinny. That laugh was too rich, too full of honey, too resonant to come from anywhere but an ample chest. Craig wasn’t a small guy. Tall, with a strong jaw and long legs, he was what you’d call rangy. Some might say skinny. Suddenly, something stirred deep within him. Fright mingled with desire. He’d never been trapped by a woman before. It was usually him doing the entrapment. Knowing he was the powerless one sent his imagination running wild.
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