Backdoor Blitz: Ten Anal Sex Erotica Stories

by Angela Ward

  Backdoor Blitz

  Ten Anal Sex Erotica Stories

  all rights reserved copyright 2014 by Red Hot Explicit Erotica Press

  Barrett Bends Me Over

  A Rough First Anal Sex Erotica Story

  by Angela Ward

  all rights reserved copyright 2013 by Red Hot Explicit Erotica Press

  I was young. I was rebellious. I wanted to do something stupid and dangerous and exciting and beyond anything I’d ever done. It was the summer between high school and college, my gap year, and I decided I’d spend it hitchhiking across the United States. It’s a wonder I didn’t end up in some ditch somewhere but nothing like that happened. That isn’t to say I didn’t have any adventures. Hell, I had a whole lot of those.

  I started out in a small desert town in California. My father was a Marine Corps captain, and his latest assignment was in the hot little place. My best friend picked me up in her car, and since I hadn’t really let my parents in on the plan, I was thankful that she did. She drove me about thirty miles to the next town over, and that was where we hugged and said our goodbyes. I had my wallet, my backpack, and about seven hundred dollars in my bank account. I had no plan.

  I stood at the side of the road and just put out my thumb. The good news is that I was a very attractive young woman wearing denim cut-off jeans and a tight tee shirt. The bad news was that I was in an area that wasn’t all that populated so it wasn’t like cars were coming by with any frequency. In fact, after about twenty minutes without a car, I was beginning to think that my whole plan was stupid. Then, in the distance I heard a motor and I put out my thumb again. A few minutes later, I saw him. He was on the back of a big motorcycle, and the motor got louder and louder as he approached. When he saw me, he pulled over right next to me.

  He looked beautiful. He had a leather jacket and I could tell he was built. He was the perfect bad boy type, but when he pulled off his helmet, I also caught sight of his eyes and realized that there was kindness there as well. “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Anywhere,” I answered. “I’m just going.”

  “I don’t have a helmet for you, and if I get a ticket for not wearing mine the insurance is gonna kill me.”

  I smiled. “I don’t need a helmet.” Look, I was hitchhiking across the United States. How was a little more riskiness gonna frighten me?

  “I’m headed to Indio to housesit for a friend. You want to go to Indio?”

  I nodded. It was about two hours away, a hundred and thirty miles from home. “Indio sounds great.”

  He gestured to the back of the bike and I climbed on. “I’m DeLora,” I said. “You can call me Dee or you can call me Lora.”

  “I can’t call you DeLora?”

  I smiled. “You can if you want.”

  He pulled his helmet on and said, “I’m Barrett. Hold on tight.” I wrapped my arms around his abdomen and we started on our way.

  Vibrations.

  I had never been on a motorcycle before, and all that comes to mind when I think back on that ride was vibrations. With my legs spread over the seat and my arms wrapped around the hunk in front of me, the vibrations from the motor and the road were overwhelming. Within minutes, I was trying my best not to moan from the stimulation. The tiny movements flowed over my pussy like a hundred horsepower vibrator and I was impossibly aroused. It didn’t help that my thighs were right against the leather seats and were bare. Outside of my denim cutoffs, the vibrations felt like fingertips squeezing on the insides of my thighs and inside my denim shorts, I was in heaven.

  I came about twelve minutes into the ride, the orgasm building and hitting me so that I tightened my grip around Barrett and did all I could not to moan out loud. It was so damned unexpected and so damned incredible, but after two or three minutes of cumming, when I realized the vibrations weren’t going away, I suddenly understood my predicament. The next hour and forty minutes or so was torture. I came three or four more times, and each time the sensitivity was even worse. I held tightly to Barrett, afraid that the next spasm from my pussy was going to make me fly off the bike. I kept trying to adjust a little bit, to make the contact a little less prominent, but there was no way. Absent telling Barrett to pull over and then finding someone with a normal car to give me a ride, I had to suffer through two hours or orgasms, almost orgasms, and extraordinary sensitivity that made me feel like I’d never walk straight again.

  Jesus! Less than three hours into my journey away from home and I had already become my father’s worst nightmare, an absolute sex-crazed slut. When Barrett pulled of the highway and onto a dirt road, I almost cried with relief. Of course, dirt road meant a hell of a lot of bouncing, so it didn’t take much of the five minute journey into the desert before I wanted to cry because it was all too much. When he pulled into a dirt driveway and we ended up in front of a large ranch house, I was ready to throw my arms around him and just thank him for stopping. When the engine rumbled to a stop, it took me a few seconds to let go of him. When I did, I got off the bike and almost fell over. He kind of chuckled and said, “Was the ride scary? I should have stopped a few times on the way for you.”

  He had no idea just how scary it had become, but I didn’t bother answering. Instead, when he stepped off the bike and took off his helmet, I threw my arms around his neck. “Fuck me,” I whispered as I put my mouth on his. I’d just had two hours of orgasmic torture and my pussy had never felt so desperate to be filled. When I whispered it, I anticipated he would take me into the house, so I was surprised that he immediately reached down and lifted my shirt up and over my breasts. Another quick movement pulled my bra up, and while his tongue pushed into my mouth aggressively, his hands went to my breasts and began roughly massaging. Usually, I preferred a gentler touch, but I was so damned turned on that I enjoyed the way he was claiming me, enjoyed the way his fingers pinched at my nipples hard. He pulled away for a moment and lifted my shirt and bra right over my head, tangling me up a bit but taking no notice of it.

  For a moment, I felt horribly exposed until I realized we were outdoors but at least two miles from the freeway and I hadn’t seen any other houses at all. He kissed me again, and this time his hands went for my shorts. He unbuttoned them and as his mouth moved lower to clamp over one of my nipples, he simply yanked them, panties and all, down my thighs to my knees. Really, I was utterly unused to the roughness of his touch and the way he was getting me naked. Ordinarily, it would have been an absolute turn-off for me. I don’t know if it was the long ride on the motorcycle and the constant stimulation or if it was just the situation. Hell, I was a decade or so younger than him and I’d never done anything so crazy. I’d only known him for two hours and I was ready to let him fuck me. Whether it was the ride or the situation, I felt my desire surging beyond anything I’d felt before.

  So, when his hands came back up to my shoulders and he just pushed me down to my knees, I didn’t resist. I reached for his jeans and fumbled with his buckle. I could already see the bulge in his jeans, and he looked bigger than any of the boys I’d been with before. He got impatient and batted my hands away and unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped. When his cock came into view, I gasped because he was enormous. I stared for a moment. His cock was hard and pulsing, and I could have stared forever if he didn’t grab the back of my head, pull me forward, and use his other hand to guide that giant thing into my mouth. I opened wide and just getting the head past my lips and onto my tongue was a cho
re. My mouth felt stretched as he pushed forward, and it wasn’t until he got another inch or two that I realized he was planning on going all the way in. Like I said, under ordinary circumstances that kind of aggressiveness would have turned me off, but I didn’t protest at all as he forced himself in, even when I gagged and even as I felt him stretching my throat. Inwardly, I was panicking like crazy. I didn’t do anything but take what he had to give, even as I felt his balls pressing up against my chin and I felt his pubic hair tickle my nose.

  It was strange the thoughts that ran through my head as he began thrusting in my throat with no real concern for how it affected me. Of course, there was a lot of panic and worry about breathing. There was also a great deal of desperate desire. Strangely, my mind took note of the fact that he wasn’t really undressed at all and that my shorts were still at my knees, holding my legs together. He moved quickly, never quite getting out of my throat, fucking it just like he might have fucked my pussy. Just when I thought it might be too much for me, he pulled all the way out of my mouth, his cock glistening while I gulped in air. He lifted me up roughly, reaching below my shoulders and getting me to my feet. Then, he simply bent me over the bike. I tried to wiggle out of my shorts so I could spread my legs, but that was when I learned he wasn’t after my pussy. Instead, I felt the head of that monster between his legs right up against the tiny virgin opening of my asshole. I was finally ready to call an end to the aggression.

  I started to turn my head to tell him to back off, but I was too late. I’d just started when he simply thrust forward hard. The head of that enormous thing slammed right through my resistant little ring of muscle, and the pain was so overwhelming that I couldn’t find the breath to say anything at all. It was paralyzing, and I just experienced the hurt as he grabbed hold of my waist and thrust forward hard, this time forcing himself about halfway in. A third thrust got him all the way in, and as my head felt like it was swimming in a sea of agony, he moved his hands to my ass cheeks, squeezed hard, and began to fuck me hard. I still hadn’t wrapped my head around what was happening, and it took every ounce of effort I could muster, but I finally found the ability to breathe. I turned to yell at him, and I was momentarily distracted because I could actually see my tiny asshole stretched out around his massive shaft. I took a deep breath and screamed.

  I didn’t scream for him to stop, though. When I saw his cock buried in my little hole, my orgasm, the one that had gone on forever on the road, roared back to life so that even though I wanted to scream at him to take his giant thing out of me, I instead screamed, “Oh fuck! Fuck me! Fuck!” Of course, he didn’t need the encouragement, and he was already fucking me hard and fast. It was amazing what happened next. The orgasm just grew and grew until it drove the pain to the background. It still hurt but the hurt was manageable and even desirable. He thrust hard and fast into me and I kept my eyes fixed on his cock moving inside of me. I had never felt such pleasure and never gotten there through such pain. It was simply shattering. He groaned, thrust forward two more times, and then I was suddenly empty. Before I really knew what was happening, I was back on my knees and a cock that had just been in my ass was in my mouth. He swelled and came, and it felt like gallons of the hot sticky stuff. Finally, he held the back of my head again and forced himself into my throat along with all of his cum.

  I spent the night with Barrett, and we went two other rounds. Each time was rough and even though I felt his shaft in my pussy twice, he always took my ass and he always finished in my mouth. It was still dark in the morning when I left, wearing the other pair of shorts I owned. I left my panties on the seat of his bike as I walked down the dirt road and to the highway to stick out my thumb.

  You Want What?

  A Very Rough First Anal Sex Erotica Story

  by Connie Hastings

  all rights reserved copyright 2013 by Red Hot Explicit Erotica Press

  “You look like my wife.”

  It wasn’t all that uncommon for my clients to say that, and it usually meant five or ten minutes of them apologizing to her through me for hiring a prostitute and protestations that they loved her and such. I smiled at him as he handed me a glass of wine. He was about forty, and he was better looking than most of my johns, more of the professional type than the blue collar type that used my services.

  “Like she was fifteen years ago or so. Same body type, same eyes. You even wear your hair the same way.” I smiled again. “That’s why I kept asking on the phone if the pictures were really you.”

  “Well, they were. Are you happy with what you see?”

  He nodded. “I love my wife,” he said and I tried not to roll my eyes. “I love her, but she’s a nightmare to live with. When I sold my company a decade back we became ultra-rich overnight. She changed from the sweet woman who built a family with me into a snobbish socialite.”

  It was heading a different direction than I’d thought. “Has she stopped meeting your needs, Baby? Do you want me to pretend to be her, to take care of you like she used to?”

  “Not quite,” he said. “I mean, I do want you to pretend to be her, but I’m not interested in you doing anything but taking what I give.”

  That was a strange way to put things, and more than just a little ominous. “What do you mean?”

  He took a breath. “I want to be very rough with you. I want to punish my wife, and I want it desperately, but I can’t do that, obviously. I want to spank you; I want to be very mean. I want…I want to imagine it’s her and get it out of my system.”

  I paused for a minute. “Have you done this before?”

  “Every six or eight months, I suppose. Do you think I’m bad?” There was something in his tone of voice, a sort of urgent desperation that made me want to rescue him even as it scared me a bit. “I…I have a great deal of money,” he said. “And I already put far more in the envelope than you asked for.”

  I opened my purse and looked in the envelope I’d picked up from the counter. It was more than four times what I’d asked.

  “I’m…are you afraid to do something rough?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “A great many of my clients prefer it rough, and I know how to pretend I can’t handle it.” That was a lie. I never did rough things, but there was a hell of a lot of money in the envelope, and he looked like a good enough guy. “I don’t mind being her…what’s the word? Her proxy. That’s it. I’ll be her proxy, and you can punish her.”

  He nodded, obviously a little bit nervous. “I…I brought a nightgown like what she wears. Can you put it on?”

  “Of course, Baby,” I said. He walked to the sink by the bathroom and came back with a little package. I started to pull off my shirt.

  “Can you change in the bathroom?” I smiled. It was amazing how many men requested that when a change was part of the appointment.

  “Sure, Baby,” I said, and I made my way to the bathroom, holding the little package he gave me in hand. Strangely, I was a bit turned on. The man wasn’t bad looking at all. He was definitely the businessman kind of client, the kind who ordered up girls on business trips or even for clients. That was a hell of a lot better than the loser types or the criminal types. It was pretty much a wash for me with the blue collar kind. The blue collar guys weren’t necessarily more polite, but they sure as hell treated a call girl with more respect and kindness, not like they owned her. In any case, it wasn’t the man’s looks that turned me on at all anyway. It was the situation. I was trying something new, and since most of the men who hired me wanted (strangely enough) just a blowjob or straight missionary sex new meant exciting.

  In the bathroom, I pulled the little nightgown out of the package and my eyes grew wide. It was a very, very expensive garment, a designer brand that cost more than my rent. I’d never worn anything that expensive. I’d never had entire outfits that added up to the expense of the nightie. It was sheer pink with lace over the breasts, tiny lace butterflies to obscure the crotch and a raised almost turtle neck collar rather than strap
s. It was just the kind of sexy but sweet lingerie I’d expect a very rich and entitled woman to wear. I felt very pretty and very sexy after I put it on. I turned and saw that while the crotch was obscured, my ass was very visible through the sheer fabric. In fact, the illusion of concealment made it look more beautiful than normal, and since I’d always believed my ass was my best feature, that wasn’t a minor realization. On a whim, I opened my purse are reapplied my lipstick and my blush. When I pulled back, I felt like a sexy pinup girl. I smiled at myself and then opened the door and stepped back into the room.

  He looked me up and down and then said, “Get on your knees.” His demeanor was so different than when we’d spoken earlier that I hesitated, just staring at him. He stepped forward and said loudly, “I said to get on your fucking knees.” I immediately dropped to the floor, my eyes wide and staring at the man who seemed to have transformed into an entirely different person in the five minutes or so I spent changing. He stepped forward until he was inches away from me. I watched without a sound as he worked with his belt buckle and then unzipped his pants. I wasn’t upset about the way he spoke, in fact the dominating tone of his voice kind of turned me on. Most of my clients had no idea how to take charge of a situation, and being the one who wasn’t in control was a new and exciting experience. I just stared and then gasped when his cock came into view. The man was huge.

  He stepped to me, and I opened my mouth, leaning forward to flick my tongue over the mushroom head, but in one motion he grabbed my hair and thrust forward, forcing himself into my mouth and shocking me with the suddenness of his movement. “Too good to suck cock now?” he muttered angrily and I felt panic rise as he held me in place and kept pushing. I realized as I felt him against the opening of my throat that he expected me to take that giant thing completely. Expected was probably the wrong word. He intended to force it in. I gagged, and my hands immediately came up to push against his thighs, but there was nothing I could do. I felt my throat stretching impossibly, and though once he got an inch in or so the gags stopped, my air disappeared and real panic set in. He kept pushing until his pubic hair was pressing up against my nose and his balls were mashed against my chin. Then, he just started fucking my throat like it was a pussy.