Mommy's Hot Erotica

by Alina Sawyer

  I collapsed on the huge bed and lay there, with the evening's events playing through my mind. Very quickly it seemed, fatigue got the better of me and I drifted off to sleep.

  "Honey?...Baby?....Liam Honey, wake up! I don't want you to miss this." I heard Liz's voice through the cloud of my drowsiness, but I also heard the insistent slap of skin and skin and some gasps and moans and immediately my senses were alert. I looked up to see Pete with his cock buried once again in Liz's ass!

  Pete looked at me with a sheepish grin and Liz looked at me almost apologetically. "Baby, you fell asleep and when Peter got out of the shower we got talking about our night and well.... I just had to one more time. I didn't want to do it without you watching so I woke you up."

  I didn't mind a bit. In fact, this time, with all three of us more in control and not out of our minds in lust, it was a pleasure to watch them. This was fucking because they wanted to – what happened earlier was fucking because they needed to; such was the urgency of their lust. I got off the bed and sat in the nearby chair and simply observed. This sex was for pure pleasure – it was affectionate but not really intimate. Two people simply enjoying the pleasure of the flesh. It occurred to me that if you could reproduce this exactly, then couples would not have fights over infidelity. In this moment I truly knew that Liz loved me but was enjoying what Pete could provide for her. But these moments are fleeting and exceedingly rare. Jealousies, feelings and insecurities will always get in the way. I even doubted that we would ever reproduce this with Pete (although I couldn't completely close that door right now.) So, I enjoyed it while it lasted. Their coupling was very athletic, elegant and a HUGE turn-on. They fucked doggie-style, then moved to Liz on her back. Eventually Pete rolled onto his back and Liz sat astride his hips happily bouncing on his cock. As Pete's lust started to build, he took the lead and put Liz on her back with her legs in the air and he fucked her in the pile-driver position, bringing groans of appreciate from his lover.

  They must have fucked non-stop for almost 15 minutes when Pete placed Liz on the edge of the bed and he stood behind her, feet on the floor. He spread her legs and got between them and pushed his cock into her ass from behind. Then he started to hammer into Liz with hard insistent thrusts. As his orgasm approached, he once-again reached up and grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, this time more for effect then anything else and announced that he was going to cum.

  "Yes, Pete, yes! Cum for me lover!" Liz screamed. With one last thrust, Pete grabbed her hips, threw his head back and bellowed, "Fuuuuucccccckkkk!" as he came for the third time this evening in my wife's ass.

  It had been quite a show and the most appreciative person in the room seemed to be old Rex who was achingly like a stone. Liz looked over at me, crawled off the bed and walked over to where I was sitting and extended her hand. "Well, my love, it's time for me to give you back a little of what you've given me!" I took her hand, not knowing what she meant until she lead me to the patio door that opened to deck of our cabin. Liz knows how much I love fucking outdoors but rarely allows it at home, always being worried that the neighbours will catch us. However, with this secluded cabin on a cool night in a place where no one knew us AND with what had happened already, she was ready to go.

  She simply walked over to the railing of the deck, raised one leg up onto it, looked over her shoulder and said, "I've had my fill of average cock for the night, come on you fucking stud, give me that big, fat monster I love inside me so much!" She didn't have to wait more than about 2 seconds as I shed the robe, dipped my hips and jammed my cock into her dripping pussy in one hard thrust.

  "Fuck yes!" Liz screamed and for once it was me that was temporarily worried about getting caught. But then, I didn't care and set to the task of giving my wife the fucking of her life. It was a very quiet, very still night and I'm sure you could hear our bodies slapping together and our moans and groans all around the area, from the other cabins around the bends in the shore right back to the main hotel. But honestly, we didn't care.

  We fucked with great abandon for quite awhile and as I started to get close to cumming, Liz sensed my impending explosion.

  "Yeah baby, cum for me, cum for me so I can have you inside me the rest of the night."

  That did it for me and as my nuts emptied for the third time in about 5 hours I literally bellowed, "Fuck Yes!!!!!!!" and honestly didn't give a damn who heard. I led Liz back into the room where we saw Pete lying on the bed sound asleep. We both collapsed there too, with Liz between us and fell asleep without saying another word.

  I had no idea how long we had slept, but I was awoken by an insistent knocking at the cabin door. I got up and nearly went to the door naked, but remembered at the last moment and slipped on a robe and stumbled groggily out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me and opened the door to the cabin. Standing there was a staff member from the resort with a large tray and he announced "room service". When I told him that we hadn't ordered anything he said to me, "Yes sir, I know, but apparently a gentleman came to the front desk earlier this morning and ordered it for you and asked that when we deliver it, we should also pass this envelope on to you." After thanking the man and giving him a tip, I went into the bedroom and discovered only Liz on the bed, slowly coming out of her deep sleep. In my haste to get to the door I hadn't even noticed that Pete had left! I awoke Liz and after stretching (and after silently telling Rex this wasn't the time!) we went into the dining area to see what was for breakfast.

  The tray contained a feast of bacon, eggs, ham, toast, pancakes, coffee and juice. Not surprisingly we were famished but wondered where Pete was, although we had our suspicions. These suspicions were answered when I opened the envelope and read it aloud to Liz.

  "Liz and Liam:

  I woke up early like I usually do, but much, much sorer then I'm used to! To be honest, seeing Liz lying there gave me some really, really naughty ideas, but I do have some things back in the city that I need to get to today, so I thought it best to give you guys some privacy. I want you to know that last night was beyond amazing. Liam, thank you for approaching me with this idea. While I'd like nothing more than to tell all my friends about the amazing night I just spent, it will never go beyond the three of us. Liz, you are one amazing, sexy beautiful woman and Liam is extremely lucky to have you. Thank you for being so open last night. To you both, I think it's no secret that I've stayed away from marriage; however the love and respect that you both have for one another gives me hope that maybe one day I'll be able to find the same thing – you guys are a great example of what marriage should be. I hope that last night was everything you had hoped for.

  See you at the gym

  Your "average" friend.

  Pete."

  With that, I looked at the next page, which contained the receipt for the accommodation and breakfast both paid for by Pete. I shook my head. Pete was anything but average in my books.

  Liz looked at me as we finished our plates and said, "Honey, are you ok? Are we ok? I want you to know that last night was incredible, but you are the one for me – so, please tell me, are you ok with what happened last night and with what I did?"

  My answer was to stand up from the table, with Rex poking through my robe and saying, "Baby, does this answer your question?"

  Liz threw her head back and let out her low, sexy laugh, "I guess it does – what time is checkout?"

  My reply to her? "Oh, in about 3 orgasms!" And we ran like kids to the bedroom.

  The End.

  Heartless

  "Breakfast," you say casually, as if we're going out to eat, as if you're not standing here with your hands rudely shoved up my blouse, my bra askew, twisting my nipples so brutally hard that I'm on tiptoe, clutching your arm for support, eyes screwed shut, my entire body vibrating.

  You've reduced me to two piercing points of feeling. The pain is exquisite.

  It's all fun and games to you, toying with me, dangling me on the border of bliss and never letting me pass over.
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  Last night you jammed a dildo in my pussy while you callously raped my ass, cruelly pulling out before I reached my peak, stifling my complaints with your swollen dick. I pleaded with you to let me swallow, but you withheld that prize, falling asleep without conscience, leaving me wanting, unable to sleep.

  When you woke this morning, your unjust cock rising with the sun, I thought you'd reward me. I more than deserved it. I had no qualms straddling you to take my rightful due. You owed me that.

  Presumptuous of me.

  Throwing me off, you made me pay for my mistake, confining me to the bed with my ankles trussed over my head. You were a machine, spanking my ass and thighs, my senses focused on your merciless gaze, the loud thwack of your hand, the heated tingle spreading in my flesh, warm and welcome at first, quickly becoming discomfort then outrage.

  You smacked me relentlessly until my skin darkened from red to purple and I writhed in torment, appalled at the sick kinks in both of us that brought us to this.

  When you untied my ankles I wailed as the blood rushed back to my feet, pins and needles prickling me as you spread me wide and attacked my bald pussy, hitting harder than ever, like beating a puddle given that I was dripping with the need to come.

  How arrogant and superior you are when I'm frenzied and raw, weeping tears of defeat, begging to be fucked.

  Of course you deprived me.

  You made me get dressed, supervising to stop me from touching myself. My panties were soaked the second I put them on. My thighs were tender, slicked and slippery. Now I have bed hair and a seeping wet spot on the back of my skirt, in no condition to leave the house, but you know that. You've no plans to take me anywhere.

  Releasing my nipples, you snap my bra back in place, the pain subsiding, the relief so intense I almost topple over.

  One look from you and I know what 'breakfast' means. I don't need to be told to get down on my knees; I'm automatically there, mouth open like a baby bird, a slut-faced blow-up doll. Once I aspired to be loved, but these days I'm resigned to being nothing but a cum receptacle.

  I've always savoured giving you head (one thing I truly die for), but somewhere along the line tenderness has been lost and I mourn for it. I want to taste you, I do, but it scares me that there'll be no sweet kiss at the end of it, no release for me. I wonder with more frequency lately why I let you abuse me.

  Shirt off, belt and pants open, you come to me exposed, erect, strong and dangerous.

  Every time I see you like this my doubts fade, my blood boils, and my juices flow.

  You're always thinking – the wheels turning on some deep thought - and you're the master of self-control. I live for the moments when your foundations shatter, when the voice in your head blanks to white noise, instinct overwhelming you. Only then do I feel that we're equals, that you're just as much at the mercy of your sex as I am.

  It's an intense turn-on for me, inciting you to that animal state, seeing the unguarded hunger on your face when you forget everything except the pursuit of orgasm.

  Fisting my hair in your hands, you ram your cock between my lips, surging to the back of my throat, fast and punishing. I'm gagging, looking up into your eyes, tears streaming down my face. Feeding on my misery, you grow bigger in my mouth, backing me up until my head hits the wall. You hold me captive, slamming your cock into me over and over. All I can do is hold my throat open and suck harder, my tongue flickering over you, urging you to finish quickly.

  Body seizing, you pull out and pump yourself, spurting white hot fluid all over my face, deliberately missing my mouth. Wiping your priceless deposit off my cheek, I'm desperate to taste you, but your hand tightens around my wrist and you whip my fingers away, cleaning them off on my skirt.

  "Fuck you," I sputter. God damn you. I'm hurt, insulted, infuriated. You're lucky I don't jump up and plant my knee in your balls. I'm over it. I've had enough of your bullshit.

  Standing on wobbly legs I turn my back on you, stumbling towards the bathroom.

  You're right you know. Why would I want to swallow the cum of an iceberg, an unmoved, heartless pig? I'll wash you off, I'll scrub off every toxic drop, and if you ever try to face fuck me again, you'll get a guillotine of teeth. (Little do you know how much I'll suffer, far more than you, to be denied the taste and wonder of your cock in my mouth, at least, the way that I like it).

  "What did you say to me?"

  I freeze at the menace in your tone. I could repent but the damage is done, it's too late to take back my disrespect. I could bolt, but with the dead lock keys hidden, there's nowhere to run. A switch flips on in my head, a subconscious need to provoke you further. The more I push you, the hotter you get, the higher the chance that you'll lose your way and cave in to me, conceding me that elusive orgasm.

  Then there's the terrifying, yet alluring, possibility that one day your beatings will go too far. It's all part of the rush.

  Without looking at you, I reply, "What I said, was 'fuck you', but what I really meant to say was, fuck you, you cold-hearted, sadistic piece of shit." Put that mouthful in your Piecepipe and smoke it. I'll teach you for thinking I'm submissive.

  There's a flurry of air behind me, and then you're on me, dragging me by the hair into the kitchen, pinning me face down on the table, holding me there while you rip my skirt and panties down.

  Not saying a word, you release me and walk out.

  It's an illusion of freedom, designed to put me in my place. Why cry and carry on when I'd the opportunity to walk away whenever I wanted? You're so devious. You know me too well. You know there are elements of anticipation and excitement building in me as I wonder what depraved punishment you have in store.

  I know the rules.

  Stepping out of my panties, I spread my legs so wide that my buttocks are stretched apart, my muscles starting to ache, the strain on my body amplifying every hurt and ill you've already inflicted.

  The house is cold and silent. The minutes tick away while I stand absolutely still with my genitalia on display, open and vulnerable, my cheek pressed against the table, waiting.

  After what seems an eternity you return, cool and aloof, hiding something behind your back. Before I can guess what it is you penetrate me with your fingers, slipping so easily into me that I'm embarrassed and ashamed. I can protest all I want but my pussy doesn't lie.

  Impaling me on your hand you tell me what a dirty mouth I have, what a wet little slut I am, a leech who wants to suck you dry. The whole world knows I'm a bad girl, a dirty whore, a nymphomaniac cunt who thinks too highly of herself . . . everything derogatory you can think of.

  With your inventive mind the debasements are endless.

  It destroys me to hear you call me filthy names, particularly while you're manipulating me, making me ooze into your palm, lending credence to your words. Gripping the table, I wriggle and squirm, humiliated, transported to the most soul-destroying recess in my mind.

  Your fingers withdraw from me, replaced with the arctic burn of your nasty tool, the icy fullness of the steel dildo you made especially for me, crudely rammed into my snatch, right to the hilt. Every cruel node you adorned it with tortures my inner passage as you twist the evil thing inside me, leaving me painfully sensitised and breathless.

  I wish you'd taped my mouth, anything to stop the strangled moans of longing and anguish that spill out of me. I want your cock, the real thing, you inside me, you fingering my clit, you making me explode, please Master, please god, pleeease.

  As if you could care less what I want.

  Wrenching my chin up, you slip your fingers into my mouth, smearing my slut juice all over my lips, forcing me to lick your hand clean while you're fucking me like a corkscrew with your evil toy. Just enough, just enough to bring me to the cliff and leave me hanging there before ripping the dildo out of me and deep-throating me with it.

  I'm a sobbing, quivering mess when you throw the dildo aside and land the first deadly blow.

  Oh my god, my god, my god, my fucking
god, you have never been so pitiless, never hit me with something as vicious or sharp as metal. My head hits the table as your belt welts my skin, the buckle cutting into my bruised ass, the pain so acute that, in screaming, I bite my tongue, blood filling my mouth with a distinctive tang. You've taken to me with your open hand, your whip, but this...this is beyond pleasure or pain.

  This is annihilation.

  You flay me a second and a third time, and I'm shocked to realise that the choked, tortured sounds echoing off the walls in the kitchen are coming from me. My mind clears and I suddenly detest you with a passion I've never felt for my worst enemies, fueling my determination to never let you win.

  It won't be me who calls a halt to this.

  Rage sustains me through the following hit - only just - but the beating is too much. My body breaks into a cold sweat and my soul cracks wide open. Flinching away to avoid the next blow, I succeed only in ramming my pelvic bones into the table's edge, adding more contusions to my body and worst of all, elevating your wrath. How dare I try to ease my suffering?

  Drawing your arm back as far as possible, your belt whistles through the air as you bring it down hard across my buttocks in the most despicable, inhumane stroke of them all.