by Primula Bond
Abby leaned forwards, placed her hands on either side of his head and almost raised herself off of him before she sank back down, relishing the way it felt as he slid inside her, not quite as deeply as Ty but thicker and fuller than she’d ever felt. He groaned as she sank onto him, and she picked up her rhythm, fucking him faster. He grunted loudly with each thrust she made, and his hips began to rock upwards to her rhythm.
‘You like that?’ she asked.
‘Fuck, yeah, you’re amazing!’ he called back, and she grinned as she pulled back from him, letting his cock come away from her with a wet sound. He gasped as her body moved away, and reached for her.
‘Come here, big man, I want you to fuck me hard. Make me scream.’ Abby turned so that she was facing the camera on her hands and knees, and Luke jumped quickly to obey. He thrust so hard into her that she had to reach forwards to steady herself on the bed, and, as his hands wrapped around her hips, her eyes were fixed to the place where the camera was watching them both. ‘Yeah, just like that. Oh, God, just like that! Fuck me, Luke!’ she cried out, screaming as he pounded into her.
Luke roared with each thrust, driving himself deep into her again and again, slamming into her body so hard that his balls slapped against her fanny. She felt them strike her clit and moaned even louder, shouting encouragement as he drove into her until the intense fuck sent her over the edge again and she screamed, staring straight into the camera as her face contorted in the overwhelming pleasure of orgasm.
As she felt her body spasm with pleasure, Luke let out a final roar and thrust one last time, convulsing with the force of his own orgasm. They collapsed together, nearly exhausted from their intense pleasure session, and panted heavily.
After a while Luke seemed to gather himself and pulled away. ‘I should go,’ he said.
‘Luke, don’t feel bad, OK? You didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.’ He bent to give her a last kiss, picked up his trousers and pulled them on, then searched for his shoes and, in the kitchen, his shirt.
‘I’ll let myself out, but you should lock up behind me,’ he called, and she followed him from the room with a sheet draped around her.
‘All right, but … do you think I can call you if I ever get scared again?’
Luke paused with his hand on the front door handle, and turned to stare at her silhouette. ‘Well, I wouldn’t want you to feel unsafe,’ he said slowly, then he went out.
Abby turned the lock behind him and waited another minute before she opened the door to the office. ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ she asked.
Ty was glassy-eyed with arousal, his long cock still clasped in his hand as he turned to regard her. ‘Would you believe that I’ve already come once?’ he asked, stroking himself. She purred with pleasure and let the sheet fall away from her.
‘Look at you, like a cat in heat, you are! And with another man’s spunk still dripping down your legs. Come here …’
Abby crossed the room eagerly and Ty stood up and pushed her back against the wall. She tossed one leg up around his waist and he slid into her swollen, wet fanny with ease, thrusting hard and fast as he pinned her against the wall. His head was thrown back in wild pleasure as he fucked her hard, and she reached between their bodies to bring herself to yet another orgasm, only seconds before he signalled his own finish with a long-drawn-out moan of pleasure.
They stood, wrapped around one another and panting with satisfaction, for several long moments before Ty leaned back to smile at her.
‘So, do you fancy any other of my mates?’
The Overnighter
Elizabeth Coldwell
Rain rattled hard against the roof of the camper van, and I wondered again whose bright idea it had been to arrange a team-building event in the depths of Wales in November.
At my previous company, team-building had been nothing more than a euphemism for a couple of pints after work on a Friday night. That had suited me just fine, and I’d been a regular participant in those boozy bonding sessions. Now, however, I worked for a boss who thought the best way to help his staff get to know each other better was sending them off to an outdoor pursuits centre to learn how to kayak, abseil and climb ridiculously steep rock faces.
All of which, coupled with the enforced jollity of after-dinner karaoke sessions in what passed for the centre’s bar, might just about have been bearable if it hadn’t been for the appalling weather. Spending your weekend hurtling backwards down a cliff, clinging on to a frighteningly thin length of rope while soaked to the skin even through four layers of clothing and a supposedly waterproof cagoule, might be someone’s idea of fun, but it certainly wasn’t mine.
At least now we were on our way back to Birmingham, dreaming – or at least I was – of a long, hot bath and a mug of hot chocolate loaded with cream and marshmallows. I’d been the only female member of the Blue Team – we’d been pitted against Red, Green and Yellow, and come a creditable second behind the Greens, who were headed up by our boss and had been loaded with the members of staff he regarded as the most competitive – and now I was travelling home with my fellow Blues, Mick, Troy and Russ.
Mick, closer to fifty than forty, was at the wheel of the van, his craggy profile visible only from its reflection in the driver’s mirror. Across from me, Troy, barely out of his teens and the company’s post boy, sat hunched over his mobile phone, his long black fingers tapping at the keys in a seemingly never-ending flow of text conversation. And Russ was beside me, chatting about something, but I’d hardly paid attention to a word he’d said, unable to concentrate on anything but the casual pressure of his thigh against my own.
Since the day I’d joined the company, I’d had a crush on Russ, lusting after him quietly from the other side of the office. From the dimple that formed in his left cheek whenever he smiled to his easy, charming manner, he ticked all the major boxes on my list of perfect boyfriend material. Watching him this weekend, striding across the windswept mountain tops with his blond hair blowing around his face and his jeans clinging to the firm moons of his arse, I’d had to fight the urge to pin him to the turf and smother his face with hot, greedy kisses before sliding lower to unzip those jeans and take his cock between my lips. Sex in the great outdoors was a potent fantasy of mine but, even without the possibility of our boss catching us grappling in the grass, it had been way too cold to think of undressing, even a little, for me to act on it.
Mind you, if we were straying into the realms of ‘what happens in Wales stays in Wales’ fantasy territory, then I wouldn’t rule out either Mick or Troy for a one-off encounter. Mick had that rumpled older-man thing going on, with a glint in his eye suggesting he’d introduce you to things you’d never tried before, if he got the chance. Maybe sliding his cock up your tight, untried arse, or tying your hands behind your back before ordering you down on your knees to suck his dick. While Troy, as he’d proved by strutting round the pursuits centre’s shower block in nothing but a pair of tight-fitting white briefs, had the most ridiculously fit body, tapering down from broad shoulders to lean snakehips, although his demeanour displayed all the arrogance of a guy who knew exactly how attractive he was. Singly, they’d be thrilling. In combination, they’d be potent enough to have me screaming the walls down when I came.
‘So, d’you want one, Loz?’ Mick’s gravelly Midlands-accented voice cut into my musing, and I almost jumped in my seat, wondering how he’d managed to pick up on what I was thinking.
‘Sorry?’ I replied.
‘I’m pulling the van over. I’m busting for a piss, and so are the lads.’ Even as Mick spoke, Troy was yanking his seatbelt undone, as if to prove the urgency of the situation. ‘Just thought you might be, too.’
‘No, I’m fine, but I wouldn’t mind a cigarette break.’
‘Filthy habit, Lorraine,’ Russ said, rising from his seat and stretching out his arms.
I could introduce you to some filthier ones, I thought, watching him follow Troy out of the van.
It had stopped raini
ng, though the air held the cold promise of more to come. I watched the three men dash into the undergrowth, searching for a spot a discreet distance away where they could relieve themselves.
The noise of their laughter and running footsteps vanished, swallowed up by the bleak, silent woods, and, as I lit up a cigarette, I realised I had no idea where we were. My lighter provided the only spot of illumination in the darkness. For all I knew, civilisation was no more than half a mile down the road, in the shape of some farmhouse or even one of the villages we’d passed through on the way here, a cluster of cottages that registered as barely a pinprick on the route map. But at this moment I felt utterly alone. Rekindling my fantasy of sex with my three companions helped, but dirty thoughts can only go so far in keeping you warm.
It seemed ages, but only a couple of minutes could have gone by before Troy joined me again, arms wrapped round himself, huddling deeper into the fleece jacket with the company logo on the breast that we’d each been provided with at the start of the weekend. He grinned. ‘Fuck me, Loz, I needed that.’
Behind him, I saw Mick and Russ emerging from the wet foliage. I uncoiled myself from where I leaned against the side of the van, ground the cigarette into a stub beneath my heel and went to take my seat.
Maybe it was just my imagination, but Russ seemed to press himself more solidly against me as he refastened his seatbelt. I told myself he probably only needed to feel a warm body against his own to keep the chill at bay, but, even so, I made no move to pull away.
‘Right,’ Mick announced, ‘let’s get you lot home.’
He turned the key in the ignition. In response, the engine gave a stuttering whine. Mick tried a couple more times, with the same result.
‘Bloody thing!’ He slapped his hand against the steering wheel.
‘Everything OK there, mate?’ Russ asked, leaning forwards over the back of the driver’s seat. As he did, his palm rested firmly on my thigh for leverage. A thrill shot through me, heat radiating from my pussy.
‘The engine won’t start,’ Mick replied. ‘I don’t understand it. I only had the fucking van serviced last week.’
‘Want me to get out and take a look under the bonnet?’ Russ suggested.
His answer was a clap of thunder, surprisingly close, and a fresh squall of rain, fat drops slithering down the window by my side.
Mick shook his head. ‘Wait till this passes over.’
‘And how long’s that going to be?’ Troy asked, anxiety creeping into his voice.
‘How should I know?’ Mick replied sourly. ‘Who d’you think I am? A fucking weatherman?’
‘Tell you what,’ I said, wanting to squash the mood of frustration before people became angry, ‘why don’t we play a little game to pass the time? After all, this weekend was supposed to help us all get to know each other better, but I don’t feel I know that much more about any of you than I did before.’
‘So what does this game involve?’ Mick asked, unclipping his seat belt and swivelling in the driver’s seat to face me.
‘Well, I thought we could all tell each other something we’ve never admitted to anyone else …’
Mick dug into the holdall he’d stowed in the footwell on the passenger side, and pulled out a hip flask. He took a quick nip, mindful that – in theory, at least – he still had to be in a fit state to drive us home, then passed the flask over to Russ. ‘Just in case anyone needs their tongue loosening,’ he said.
Russ wiped the rim of the flask, took a drink, then gave it to me. I did the same, tasting the smooth bite of bourbon. Troy declined when I held the flask out, so I stoppered it once more.
‘Why don’t I start?’ I said, unlatching my seatbelt and leaning forwards a little, as though we were conspirators plotting in secret. ‘I’m the newest member of staff, and I reckon you know the least about me.’ When no one made any objections, I took a breath. ‘I got married when I was nineteen. Far too young, of course, but at the time I thought I knew best. Kevin was quite a bit older than me, owned his own business and made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. Well, for a while, at least.’
‘What happened?’ Troy asked.
‘Lots of little things, I suppose. He’d always been a selfish lover. You know, happy for me to suck his cock for hours, but he wouldn’t go down on me in return.’ Looking up, I caught Mick’s gaze. The expression on his face clearly told me what he thought of that kind of behaviour. I pictured him for a moment, salt-and-pepper hair brushing against my thighs as his tongue lapped at my pussy, and was surprised to discover just how horny the thought made me.
‘And you put up with that?’ Russ chipped in. I noticed his hand had crept a little higher up my thigh, almost of its own volition. Beneath my jeans, my skin tingled at the feel of his fingers.
I nodded. ‘I put up with all kinds of crap from him, basically because I didn’t know any better. Soon, he kept claiming he had to work late, all the usual excuses. But I was so naïve, I didn’t understand what he was really up to. Six years we were together before I discovered he’d got another woman on the side. Not only that, he was seeing her even before we got married.’ As the memories flooded back, I undid the hip flask and took another swallow, longer than the first, sure that Mick wouldn’t mind. ‘To cut a long story short, the divorce came through a few months ago. That’s when I decided to move to Birmingham. Make a fresh start, meet some new people, you know.’
I glanced out of the window. The rain still fell steadily. We wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. ‘But that’s all old news, and I said I’d tell you something I’ve never told anyone else. You see, I have these – these fantasies. I never shared them with Kevin, because he wouldn’t have understood, and even if he did, he’d have had no interest in exploring them. If it didn’t involve him going on top, he wasn’t interested.’
‘Fantasies?’ The slight tightness in Russ’s voice told me he’d realised the conversation was about to take a more intimate turn.
‘Yeah. I’ve always had this thing about being with more than one man at once.’
‘What, like a threesome?’ Troy’s interest was clearly piqued.
‘Three … four … maybe even more. Sometimes I imagine a whole queue of blokes waiting their turn to fuck me.’ I smiled, running a fingernail over Russ’s hand where it rested on my thigh. ‘But me and three men sounds like a nice number. I think I could handle that, no problem.’
‘So how does this fantasy go?’ Mick asked. In that moment, I knew I’d reeled all three of them in. All I had to do was say the words and they were mine.
‘Oh, there are a few versions, but in my favourite they strip me bare between them, then they make me suck their cocks till they’re nice and hard, before taking me in whichever hole they fancy. They really get off on using me – but they make sure I’m satisfied by the time they’ve finished. I get so wet thinking about it, but I can’t ever see it happening in real life. I mean, I’d have to be with three blokes who all wanted me, and who I wanted just as badly …’
The tension in the van was so thick you could have sliced it. Mick, Troy and Russ looked at each other, as if making sure they hadn’t misread my signals. Not that I could have spelled things out any more clearly. Three plus one. The implication that they could have me however they wanted me. Realising this was a one-time-only offer, they seemed to reach a silent decision.
Russ took the lead, given that he already had a hand on my body. He slid it up so it rested on the mound of my sex through my jeans. ‘You really want this?’ he asked.
I nodded. ‘I’ve never wanted anything more,’ I assured him.
His mouth swooped down on mine in a strong, searching, bourbon-flavoured kiss, and he gripped my breast tightly through my layers of clothing, so that my nipple hardened against his palm. Suddenly, the jeans and sweater that had been keeping the chill at bay were far too restrictive, and I needed to be free of them.
Russ bit at my lower lip, hands pushing up under my sweater to tug m
y T-shirt out of my jeans, and I threw my head back in a gesture of pure submission, offering him my throat.
Vaguely, I was aware of Mick folding down the passenger seat so he could clamber over into the back of the van to join us. With four of us in the small space, things were cramped, but it only added to the excitement. Somehow, having the luxury of a big comfortable bed would have ruined the spontaneity of the occasion.
‘Need a hand getting her stripped, mate?’ Mick asked. He seemed to have tapped into the core of my fantasy, the need to be treated as though I was their plaything, and I revelled in his crude tone.
Wondering why Troy hadn’t got involved as yet, I looked over to see him rubbing his cock where it lay beneath the fabric of his combat trousers, raising the loose material enough to be noticeable. When he realised I’d caught him wanking, he popped his fly-buttons and pulled it out, not fully hard yet but big enough to take my breath away. Transfixed, I watched as he stroked that long, solid black rod.
Mick had pulled off my boots and had turned his attention to my jeans. Limp and unprotesting, I let him and Russ undress me down to my underwear. Something about the fact that I was wearing cheap, mismatched items – a plain white bra and turquoise panties – added to the thrillingly sordid nature of the encounter. Already my juices stained the crotch of the panties a deeper shade of blue, leaving the men in no doubt as to how turned on I was.
‘You want this, don’t you, you slut?’ Mick asked.
I nodded as Russ unclipped my bra and grasped my tits in his big hands. His fingers, I noticed for the first time, had the calloused tips of someone who played the guitar, and I wondered what secrets he might have revealed if I’d played my confessions game straight, rather than using it as a way of manipulating my colleagues into acting out my filthiest fantasy.