Naughty Bedtime Stories: First Taste

by Trixie Taylor

  Then he buried his face in my pussy.

  He lapped at me, sucked on me, and shuddered his deft tongue against my swollen clit. He turned my knees to pudding and had me shivering to a heap on the floor. Even then, he didn't stop.

  When his fingers pressed at my opening, I stiffened slightly. His tongue had been a pleasurable penetration, but his fingers would push deeper...feel more of me. He teased softly, reading my reticence and then, before I knew it, his digit was inside me.

  "Holy shit! You are so tight," he barked in surprise.

  I turned my head away, unable to look him in the eye. I should have told him no one had ever touched me there; that I hadn’t been with anyone else. My silence on the matter probably only made my embarrassment worse. What if he didn’t want me now?

  He removed his hand and repositioned himself so that he lay beside me on the floor. I watched as he sucked my essence from his finger before kissing me softly.

  "When you came here you were still quite young. You haven't had sex before have you?" he asked.

  I fought the sob that had built to a ball in my throat and shook my head.

  "Do you want to continue? I will never pressure you into something you are not ready for. Your first time should be something special...Not a fevered fuck on the floor of an office."

  "I'm okay. I want to. I don't care where we are."

  "Yeah, but you still think you are going to wake up from this and it will never have happened."

  "No. I know we are here. I know what we are about to do...I want this. I want you, and besides, you just fired me... You still need to give me a good reason." I grinned back at him. I was willing to believe it now. I was happy to accept that this was real.

  "Then come with me," he whispered and pulled me to my feet.

  "Um, Oliver, you have ruined my clothes, we can’t leave this room."

  "Yes we can. Follow me."

  Oliver led me to the door behind his desk. One I assumed led to a private washroom. I hadn't been in his office before and had no idea what actually lay beyond it. A tight stairway led up and around to a second door. Oliver pulled on the handle and hauled me into the attic. Shocked at the fact I had never noticed this door before, I allowed him to tow me through the labyrinth of boxes and out onto our roof. We stood utterly naked against the midday backdrop of the late summer sky.

  “Did you know that my room lies beneath this terrace?”

  “It does?” I asked, having never thought about it before. Now that I did though, I knew he was right. The attic portion of the roof was directly over the main apartment and some of his en suite bathroom. This terrace would stretch most of the way across his room from the east-facing window.

  “Your cushions are almost directly above my bed,” he whispered into my ear from behind. His arms encircled my waist and he traced his lips along the curve of my neck. I could barely breathe, no matter speak, but I heard the insinuation. He thought, perhaps, I had done it on purpose. Had I? Had I unconsciously set this space up, in an effort to be near him?

  “I could hear you up here, singing to yourself, relaxing against the cushions… moaning.”

  “Oh god. You did?”

  “You’d be surprised. I heard you a few times back in the beginning when you first found it. You made quite a noise setting it all up – dragging things out and arranging the space. I snuck up to the attic one time, just to see who it was,” he breathed, his voice becoming richer, slower and more intense somehow.

  “You sat and watched the sun go down, the dusk colors lit up your face and made your hair glow like bright copper. You were stunning. I watched you for a little while, until you lay down against the pillows. When you began to pull up your dress and slip your hand beneath your panties, I knew I had to leave. It was wrong to watch you.”

  “Did you…did you watch?”

  “I wasn’t going to, but then you said my name. For a moment I thought you had seen me, but you were still so intent in your pleasure. Your hand motions became more fevered and you said my name again. I knew then, that you wanted me.”

  “Oh god. I am so embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be. You were beautiful and I was a pervert, but the devil himself couldn’t have dragged me away. You saying my name was like a twisted permission to stay. You were touching yourself for me. You were showing me what you refused to say. This morning was about me returning the favor. I touched myself for you. You were the face behind my eyelids. I was remembering what you looked like on this roof.”

  “Oliver…”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. Now lie down and wait here for me, I will be back in a few minutes.”

  Oliver laid me down upon the soft pile of cushions and walked back toward the door. His firm, round behind was a treat to behold as he walked away.

  Five

  Oliver returned quickly. I suspected he feared I would change my mind if he left me alone. That wasn’t going to happen. Both of us had waited too long for this. We had both missed our opportunity for something more, but I would not be the one to take this from us: This one special moment.

  “Here we are.” He smiled happily, as he sauntered out onto the rooftop.

  “What do you have there?” I asked with a giggle.

  Oliver was still as naked as the day he was born but now he was laden with a variety of crap. It looked like things he had rummaged up out of the boxes in the attic.

  “Things to make this comfortable…pleasurable,” he grinned naughtily.

  “Oh? How did you get them so quickly and how did you get to your apartment without being seen?”

  “Oh I was seen.”

  “You were?”

  “Mrs. McKinney was outside my door when I got back downstairs.”

  “Doreen? But why?”

  “She was making sure I wasn’t being mean to you,” he teased laughing.

  “What?”

  “Sweetheart, she gave me these,” he said, holding out a pack of condoms and looking a little sheepish.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. She was always looking out for me and she seemed to have an uncanny ability to know exactly what was happening under her roof.

  “I love that woman.” I giggled at his expression. I couldn’t imagine how he must have felt standing there naked.

  “Did she say anything about you being… you know?” I asked through my tears of mirth.

  “Only that she hopes she got the right size,” he replied shaking his head.

  “Oh don’t you worry. She knows everything,” I said and shivered a little against the cool breeze – it was a subtle reminder of the oncoming autumn. The fall.

  “Here,” Oliver offered, shaking out an old blanket and sweeping it over me.

  He placed a bottle of something bubbly and two coffee cups that he had undoubtedly nabbed from his office beside us. He also had an array of other things that I couldn’t make out. These sat behind the bottles whilst Oliver jumped under the blanket and wrapped me in his arms again. I did not realize I had missed him, until he was already holding me firmly against his chest.

  He kissed my forehead, eyes and then the tip of my nose before reclaiming my mouth. I kissed him back eagerly. All my inhibitions faded into the firm, safety of his embrace.

  His fingertips ran down my body like percussive raindrops, pitter-pattering across my most sensitive places.

  “You are beautiful. You were gorgeous even when you were covered in dust and limping along the roadside. Your green eyes caught the morning light and glowed. I watched you all the while I drove toward you. There was no way I was going to let you go. I was praying you would accept my offer and then when you did, I prayed you hadn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it meant that we couldn’t be together like this. My family is strict about the rules. Things get messy if you break them,” he responded sadly.

  “I know. It broke my heart a little to know who you were. I had been hoping that you were just another se
rver or kitchen hand, but you were a Waldron and off limits. There were times I thought about leaving because I knew I was just torturing myself to stay.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because leaving was harder. If I left, I would never see you again. It was stupid, but now I’m glad…”

  “Me too,” he sighed, laying a trail of soft kisses to my breast. His fevered lust from earlier had transitioned into something else – something just as passionate, but soft and accommodating too. His focus this time was on me and my needs - on taking it slowly.

  He drew my nipple into his mouth. His tongue flickered against the stiffened nub and I shuddered into his arms. He pulled back and smiled at me.

  “Good?” he asked.

  I smiled softly and nodded.

  He dropped down again and took the other one, this time sucking sharply and causing me to gasp. His eyes asked the question whilst his mouth continued to torture me.

  “Good,” I breathed unsteadily and it truly was. The pulling sensation didn’t stop at my breast it was everywhere; pulling at me like a marionette.

  His hand moved downwards whilst his teeth worked at my nipple. He hooked my leg up and over his own and I felt myself grind softly against him, looking for his cock. I wanted to feel it against me. He stroked up and down my thigh and calves, his hands running over my heels and his nails scoring lines of pleasure and pain into the soles of my feet. I hummed out, my head arching backwards on the moan. His lips reached for my exposed neck, licking and sucking at me there. He pressed his teeth lightly against me and I gripped him hard. My body reacted to his bite. An immediate flush of wet heat pulsed between my legs and my hands flew around his back; my nails running channels down his skin. I gripped his round cheeks in imitation of the way his teeth gripped my neck.

  “Shit,” he muttered into my flesh.

  I released him and stroked the divots I had caused with my fingertips. “Sorry,” I murmured leaning down to kiss his beautiful blonde curls.

  “No, Anna…that was fucking good.” He spun me around to that I was on top of him, looking up at me with his naughty smile and shaking his head slightly in wonder.

  “I think I’m going to enjoy making you come…although I might end up a little bruised,” he laughed.

  “You could always tie my hands…” I teased nervously.

  His eyes lit up. His lips pulled back to a toothy grin. “Careful, Anna, say much more and I might never let you leave,” he warned.

  “Then perhaps you ought to gag me too,” I laughed and within seconds I was yanked tightly to him.

  “Too perfect…” he whispered and I knew he was just voicing his thoughts aloud, but the comment made me happy from head to toe. “Anna, honey, do you want to try playing with my cock whilst I work your tight little cunt? I need to make sure you can take me, sweetheart.”

  “Okay,” I nodded happily. I had no experience with oral, but he knew that, just like I knew he would forgive me if I were useless. I had an idea of what I wanted, an idea that hinged upon the many fantasies of him filling my mouth and I was strangely confident that anything I tried would be received readily.

  Oliver guided me around so that my pussy hovered near his face and I was right over his ever-ready cock. The droplet of precum snail-crawled down the head of his penis and my tongue slipped out to lap it up. Oliver hadn’t been expecting it and groaned out another “shit.”

  I peeked back over my shoulder at him.

  “Good?” I asked grinning.

  “Sweetheart, you don’t have to, you know. I just thought you might stroke me a little. I don’t want you to rush anything you’re not ready for.”

  In response I licked him from base to tip. He chuckled a little and then caught me by surprise when he drew his tongue along my slit in return.

  “Whatever you want, honey,” he laughed and then bit my butt.

  I didn’t care about the inevitable teeth marks; it felt fucking fantastic and caused another wave of heat.

  “God you are so wet,” he murmured, gently inserting a finger inside me. This time there were fewer stings and a lot more pleasure, as he crooked his finger slightly and began to massage inside me. I felt a strange heaviness, unlike anything I’d experienced before. It built and built to the point where I hadn’t noticed he had inserted a second finger and then a third. That weighty feeling, which made everything else feel light as air by comparison, became a keen pressure. I throbbed. His fingers were buried in me, alternating between their thrusting and massage motions. My mouth encircled his shaft and, with the tip pressed firmly against the palette of my mouth, I sucked at him. I continued moving him in and out of my mouth and trying desperately not to become distracted by what he was doing to me.

  It was no good. As soon as my legs began to tremble, I was completely invested in Oliver’s attentions.

  “Oh my god… no more… I can’t,” I groaned.

  “Sweetheart, I need you on your back.”

  “No. Don’t stop. Please,” I begged, directly contradicting my previous words. I could hear Oliver chuckle throatily as he brought me around to face him. He kissed me and held me as I quivered, but the urgency was fading and I hadn’t yet come.

  “I’m going to make love to you now, Anna. I am going to reach up inside you and make you mine. Okay?”

  “Okay…” I exhaled the word.

  He spun me around quickly and hung over me. He was huge and ready. My legs parted beneath him of their own accord but he moved them wider and higher before he settled in against me. His latex-clad penis pressed at my fluttering sex. It needed no guiding. It wanted me. He pushed gently and I felt the crazy sensation of expansion. Like pulling on firm elastic; I widened and then flexed, encasing the head of his cock inside me. He thrust slowly giving me inch by inch of himself until he was fully ensnared. I wanted him there forever. He rocked against me pulling and pushing so softly that, when the pain subsided and I felt the full force of the relief meld into pleasure, I growled against his ear and tugged hard at his hair.

  “I can feel only you now, Oliver. Fuck me. Please.”

  Oliver became a different man. His blue eyes became dark and his mouth formed into a rich pout of swollen lips and heavy breath. He didn’t say a word he just gave me what I wanted and pounded at me until I lost myself. There was only Oliver. His name on my lips, his hands holding mine above my head. His body rocking into me and causing me to pray to the only name I knew.

  “Oliver… Oh yes, Oliver…”

  I came, harder than any self-induced orgasm. I bucked beneath him. His weight against me, kept me anchored to the cushions. The blanket was now rolled up under my head, to protect me from the concrete below, but I hadn’t even noticed him do it. Within seconds of my orgasm, Oliver released. He thrust hard and raggedly into my swollen, pulsing pussy.

  We lay huddled together for a while, both of us just catching our breath and coming down from the edge. Oliver continued to plant lazy kisses across my collarbone.

  “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

  “Better than okay,” I replied feeling both sated and unsure all at once. There was no doubt that I felt physically amazing, it was my head and my heart that were stuttering. This was the part where he said goodbye.

  “Next time, we will work our way through every position known to man…and then we can invent our own,” he laughed happily into my neck.

  “Do we have time for a next time?” I asked, not wanting to open that can of worms, but needing to know where I stood.

  “Oh that’s right,” he said sadly. He lifted his face to look into my eyes, with such a serious expression; I thought my heart might just stop.

  “It’s okay. I understand…” I began but Oliver cut me off.

  “No, you don’t,” he sighed, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have fired you. In about three hours, I will give you back your job and we will continue as if nothing happened,” he explained. I had expected as much, but a small part of me was screaming “bastard
” in my head. Oliver began to laugh at me. I wondered if I had made a terrible mistake.

  “Oh, Anna, sweetheart.”

  “You don’t have to sweetheart me, Oliver. I get it, I really do,” I said bitterly, trying to hide my reddening face and damp eyes. He gripped my chin and pulled me back to face him.

  “Then on Friday at precisely seven o clock, when I close the doors for the last time, you will meet me at my car with all your belongings and we will see about your predilection for being bound and gagged.”

  “Oh!”

  “Oh? You doubted me?” he teased.

  “Only for a moment.” I grinned. I could barely believe what had just happened no matter what he had just said. The wasted time we could have had became a promise of things yet to come, and my whole chest swelled to realize that Doreen was right – sometimes dreams are not just dreams. Sometimes dreams can be so much more.

  A stubborn thought occurred to me; there was something odd about what Oliver had said.

  “Why reinstate me in three hours?” I asked in my naive confusion.

  “Because that gives us just enough time to do it all again.” He winked slyly.

  “Oh good,” I exhaled in relief, “But this time do you think we could use the champagne? I once had a dream where you wanted to pour it all over yourself and make me lick it off,” I told him, knowing the reaction I would get.

  “Too fucking perfect! Anything you want, Sweetheart, anything at all,” he offered.

  And of course, that suited me just fine.

  The Proposition – Jackie McMahon

  The Wrong Number

  Trixie Taylor

  "Friends don't let friends text drunk. Isn't that a saying, Beckley?" Madeline grabbed the cell phone from my hand, trying not to slosh her glass of wine in the other. "No offense, but you don't always make the best decisions."

  "Come on, Mad," I slurred, angling my index finger and thumb near each other until they were almost touching. Bartering. Yes, that was the level of drunk I'd achieved. "Just let me send him an itty bitty text. Just one." Flopping back on the couch, I swiped for the phone and missed by six inches.