The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires (An Anthology)

by Liz Everly

  She brought over her desk chair and set up her computer on it. Then she slid the DVD in and sat back on the couch. With him. She felt like her joints would crackle with each move.

  "Porn," she said. "Oh goodie." She wondered if it was appropriate to offer him popcorn, but she was so nervous she thought she would yak at the smell. He was wearing a long sleeved T shirt and darker jeans today. He looked good. She didn't look as good. She wasn't wearing make-up. She wasn't ready for this.

  "I don't know, Turner."

  "Don't think of it as porn. Think of it as, um, you. I mean, her."

  "I don't want to see this."

  "Only a few minutes. It's the only copy. I'm leaving it with you. You can rip it out of the computer and smash it to bits."

  "That would be lovely."

  She settled back closer to him. He was at the corner of the couch, facing her, an arm—Jesus he had long arms—stretched out along the back. She was about six inches away, arms crossed tightly, legs crossed tightly, vibrating as much with nerves as from her proximity to him.

  The recording was suddenly there, and she on all fours turned away from the camera with her ass in the air. Jenny felt her attention stretch out like salt water taffy. There was her body, in the dim glare of his fluorescent desk lamp. The bluish glow fell over her face, but at the moment she was just flexing her back, her face turned away to look at whatever he was doing.

  Jenny was observing her body, observing how it felt to watch her body naked in a video, observing what it felt like to have a guy watching you watch yourself naked in a video.

  Her ass was biggest because it was close to the camera but it was like a firm peach, round and not too big and not too small. She gave her ass an A+.

  She peeked out of the corner of her eye. Turner was not watching her ass, Turner was watching her. But then on screen Turner walked back into the frame and she was observing him as well, kind of peeking at his naked body between her fingers. She'd been behind him when they'd…now she could see he was…wow. Now that was an erection. An unfocussed excitement began worming its way through her body.

  Part of it was that she was crawling with self-consciousness that the real Turner was there, not even six inches away from her. He wasn't watching the video. He was completely focused on her. The distracting heat of his eyes taking in her slightest reaction was creating a painfully sensitive feeling down there. It was all she could do not to visibly squirm. Her mind was kind of squished, and all analytic thought went out the window.

  On camera her ass was still the focus, slowing waving back and forth as he came forward.

  "Ready for this?" he said. Jennifer nodded and tossed her slutty pony tail. His back to the camera, the large hand came out and left a hot pink imprint. Slap.

  "Kind of like your face this morning," she said.

  Then she ruined it, as a wave of hot blood forced through her cheeks and beat against her skin.

  "More, Jennifer?" Turner on camera asked. She waggled her head up and down.

  "I look slightly drunk."

  He shot her a look. "True. But…Jennifer seemed to clearly know what she wanted."

  On screen he was thinking about it. She saw harsh angle of his jaw and tilt of his head.

  "What were you thinking?"

  "I was thinking, I wouldn't have picked this as my thing, but if she wants it, I'm going to give it to her," he said, turning to look at the computer for the first time.

  That caused a complicated reaction in her chest. Her blood was rushing through her veins and the odd tickling sensation in her pelvis was growing. It was like her cunt was shouting at her. She crossed arms over her chest, squeezing hard.

  Now Turner on screen was focusing most of his attention on her tender thighs, while her ass was pink all over. She imagined how her body would feel bent over her own bed and how it would feel with her backside naked like that. To give him that power over her. The tingling became stronger and stronger. Meanwhile, on-screen Turner, who was not nearly as friendly as he was with her now, was giving it hard to those thighs, his face stern.

  "This is turning you on," he realized.

  "Fuck off, Turner."

  "It is."

  On-screen Turner spread Jennifer's legs and did something with his fingers between those legs that made Jennifer's head snap back with a jerk.

  She forced herself to look away. Unfortunately she met Turner's eyes and could read his mind: Spanking excites her. Noted.

  She stood up abruptly. "I'm not going to watch this." She was pacing, hoping it was hiding the twitching going on all over her body as her fingers were already imagining him standing up, already imagining the feel of his skin beneath his shirt, the heat. A new kind of hunger, raw and naked, grew inside her. This wanting him so badly sucked.

  He stood up. She backed away.

  "There's nothing wrong with getting turned on. We made the video, we're watching it."

  "It's porn," she said instead.

  He looked at it. She could see him decide he wasn't going to go there.

  "What if what turns Jennifer on turns you on?"

  She could hear the spanking on the screen resuming even if she couldn't see the screen. Jennifer's pleasured grunts squealed out into the air between them. He turned back to her.

  "I promise you, only three minutes more."

  The tight hot clench in her sex throbbed out its own measured beat between her legs, a reminder that she was missing the spanking.

  "I'll fast forward to the part I mean," he said and fiddled with video.

  "Okay, that. Watch that." He sat back and she perched tentatively on the edge of the couch next to him, ankles crossed, fists clenched in her lap.

  "What am I watching?"

  "Just look."

  They were having sex from behind. They'd turned or they'd repositioned the camera so Jenny was facing it this time and Turner was kneeling behind her. Both their faces were clearly visible. As he was finishing, he grabbed her hips and was going at it hard, face determined, jaw thrust out. Then it was over. He was caressing her slowly. Up her sweaty thighs, across her back. Lovingly. A shadow passed across Jennifer's face as she ducked away from his touch. He was bent over her, behind her, and yet he noticed she didn't like it. He paused and leaned over her.

  "Are you okay?"

  She flicked her head in the other direction and began thrusting again.

  "Hey Jennifer, what is it?" He tried to withdraw, but she pulled him back with one hand. He was confused. She picked up her thrusts.

  He tried caressing her cheek, and she twisted her face away again. His expression changed to uncertainty. She thrust harder. He steadied himself with one hand against her hip. "I wish you'd talk to me." He put a hand out on her neck, stroking her throat, then her shoulder blade. Again she twisted her back like a horse trying to swish off a fly. This time he clearly go the message and stopped.

  His face had a what's your problem kind of look, but his eyes closed briefly, and then he was obviously hard again. They carried on. There was something there, the expression on her face, that so deliberately turned to the camera.

  "I don't usually look like that do I?" She asked.

  His gaze flicked towards her. "Evil? No. You don't usually look like that."

  His expression grew intent. "That's Jennifer. That's her face. That's why I wanted to show you this."

  A flood of relief coursed through her like adrenaline, radiating out of her arms.

  "I mean, it is like porn," he said his voice tight. Clearly Jennifer had gotten to him too. "She wants minimal contact," Jennifer at this point started bucking her hips, her head going up and down. "It's not about intimacy. It's pure, unadulterated fucking. If I wasn't fucking her, then I was kind of disgusting. It didn't make me feel particularly good about myself. Hey," he nudged her. "I'm not boring you, am I?"

  "No."

  He leaned over and began to fast forward the rest of it.

  "What—what are we missing?"

  "The
part of the night where I try to hold a conversation with Jennifer. Not scintillating stuff."

  The video showed him trying to get her dressed. He even tied the pink tie on her black and white cow print pj bottoms. The jerk he gave on the tie, the pissed off look he gave down into her face, it sent a stab straight to Jenny's cunt. So. Hot.

  She flicked a look back up at his face. On screen was a reminder of the shadows beneath his eyes. The ever slightly raw looking skin looked more light brown on screen than pinkish. There was nothing like that across his eyes now. Just a mere pencil tip of light grey.

  It was over. He cleared his throat. An arm came out and pulled her over to him. She let herself be reeled in resting against his side.

  "So what do you like to do?" She asked, her finger picking at his navy shirt and feeling the muscles underneath.

  "I'm game for pretty much anything as long as there's a connection," he says.

  "Typical guy answer."

  "I'm a typical guy," he said. His voice dropped about two notches, his lips coming right up against her forehead. "Why? What do you like?"

  His words were a shot right to her core. She felt cold, she felt wiggly and liquid. It took total concentration to formulate words. She was surprised by how horribly hot watching the video made her. Her eyes were riveted to her fingers, her fingers had nothing to do except pinch the fabric of his long sleeved tee.

  "Ow." He said, and caught her hand in his larger one.

  "Watching that made you hot."

  "Yes," she said in a suffocated voice.

  "Have you ever done that before? Spanking?"

  "Not that I'm aware of. How'd you feel the next day?" she asked, curious, and yes, stalling. "After…all that?"

  "I don't know. I've actually never had a girl just fuck me and want absolutely nothing else. I mean, not that there aren't girls… it's just I didn't know how to handle it. So I tried to get you to talk to me during the day. To form, I don't know what—a friendship?—with me. But you kept ducking me."

  He was looking at her again. She couldn't handle the intensity in those eyes and bent her head down.

  "And you were really cold," he added.

  "I am. I guess I was very insecure around you."

  "Games you play because you're insecure are still games."

  She completely disagreed.

  "I was getting nowhere with you, but she," he said pointing at the screen, "kept coming by at night."

  She turned and draped herself across his chest. He pulled his other leg up onto the couch and adjusted her so she was lying fully on top of him. She put her head slowly down on his chest.

  "I'll admit," he said. "I liked that world for a bit. I felt powerful, until it seemed really lonely. I…I haven't been with anyone since then."

  He was playing this whole indifferent to sex guy. She wasn't buying it. She could feel the rather wide and obvious bulge under the jeans. She rocked her pelvis against it.

  "How'd you avoid being with someone? A cute guy like you," she mocked.

  Looking away, he rolled his eyes. "It wasn't easy."

  "And?" She rocked again. The bulge seemed to like this. It was bigger and harder."I lied. I said I had a girlfriend. I meant you, in case you didn't get that," he said, lifting his head up.

  She rocked again and his head dropped. She felt all woozy about that and her throat closed up.

  "It wasn't true, but I wanted it to be."

  She sat back up, straddling him. "Here are the ground rules. You use protection, no drugs, no permanent marks, don't scare me, and please go slow."

  He began to kiss her, caressing her breasts, unzipping the oh-so-not-sexy oversized hoodie she was wearing and tossing it aside. The way he caressed her nipples brought feelings right down between her legs. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling his hand there.

  "Can I tie you up?" he asked quietly.

  "Yeah. I'd like that," she responded.

  He was kissing down her neck, her bra straps going down, her breasts pushing up until the nipples were out and he was caressing them, making them tighter, harder, then sucking them, licking them. She found herself straddling him on the couch, naked on top, jeans unbuttoned, his hands sliding around her hips and over her ass, squeezing it.

  He drew her into the bedroom where, conveniently, the restraints hadn't been removed from the night before.

  "Do you want to be on your back or on your stomach?"

  Even those few paces made her tense up with self-consciousness. She looked up at the ceiling and said, "Both, please."

  His eyes were hazed with a film of lust. In the bedroom he shucked her out of her open jeans and he tied her up. Once she was in the restraints she thought she'd relax, but this was a different kind of nervous, a different kind of pent up shame feeling that flooded her entire body.

  She was in his hands.

  He kissed her for a long time, until his roving hands had sensitized every part of her frame and she was aware of a warm overriding feeling of pleasure as he sucked her breasts. Then his lips moved down to her hips, where his fingers soon followed. As he pushed her thighs apart, pulling up her bound feet, he placed his head firmly between her legs. Her thighs tightened involuntarily as his tongue delved into her core and swiped along the ridge that led to her still delicately sore clit. He worked it gently, sucking her, and her clit sang with pleasure.

  She pulled against the ties, arching hard as his hands grabbed her ass and held her up. He began seriously eating her pussy, the feeling of his harsh beard gently scraping against her tender skin making her undulate and bite back a groan.

  Her face turned into the soft skin inside her forearm as she began whimpering when he started sucking her clit harder, licking little horse shoe shapes around the top. His beard stimulated the tender folds, his chin rode up and down as he was fucking her pussy with his tongue, sucking her clit. She was thrusting herself up to him, and he made her wait, staring at her, while he used his fingers on her until suddenly he rose up and was covering her.

  He entered her hard and fast. She was so wet, she used her muscles to pull him in, but he jerked out and back in again, hard, over and over. He was in control. That look was on his face, stern. No mercy for her, he gave it to her hard until with almost a painful crest she felt her orgasm coming, sweeping over her, and his mouth covered hers. Every muscle in his arms stood out as he held firm, letting her buck against him as she shattered and fell, shook and thrust her hips up, greedy for every bit of him.

  It was over and she realized that they had forgotten about condoms entirely. Then all her feelings of worry and agony were wiped clean from her mind as she felt every molecule fill with happiness. She let that feeling permeate her, interlacing her fingers with his. She was on the pill, and they could have the talk in a moment. He began unstrapping her and rolled her over onto her other side.

  He remembered the condom, got up from the bed and after a moment of rustling in the living room came back with one on.

  "I—" she hesitated. "You know last time was the first time I'd done that."

  "Good," he said.

  There didn't seem to be the need to say anything after that, did there? He did it right then and he did it right again this time too. No pain, and he went slow enough to make her feel squirmy about herself and her reactions to the sex they were having. Who was this person she'd turned into? The one chanting fuck me, fuck me. Harder. Then it was bliss, bliss, bliss. How many times did she come? Let me count the ways. He was lying on her and his weight felt enormously reassuring, like he was pressing her back into her body, owning it, ruling it from the inside once again. He started to shift.

  "Don't move. Don't take this away from me," she muttered and he stayed there on top of her while she drank in the feel of him all over her skin.

  Later when they got up from the bed she saw new shadows under his eyes. What if she was killing him? Only the expression on his face was entirely different from before. It hurt to look at him, so she went into the sho
wer.

  God, she was cold.

  It was sex with Jennifer that killed them. He was just tired because he hadn't gotten any sleep last night.

  But what did she know for sure?

  He slipped into the shower with her and she wrapped her arms around the tanned skin of his neck while he held her.

  "I want to be with someone like you," he said. The look was still there. He was happy. She'd made someone happy. Her hands were covering his sternum, and he was holding her close, arms across the wet hair streaming down her back.

  "What would it take for you be with just me?" he said low and quietly in her ear.

  "I don't know. You've got heartbreaker written all over you." she replied, with a slow smile, a little shy, a little afraid.

  "I don't want to break your heart. Just take a little piece of it. Just a tiny little piece." He began using the soap, rubbing it between his hands and then caressing her shoulders, her sides. "You could come visit me in Seattle next weekend."

  She nodded, happy through and through.

  Chapter 9

  On Monday morning she had to go off to school while he went to the hardware store to buy nails. He had to go back to Seattle Monday night so he could teach his Tuesday morning class. They got to do all the pleasantly clingy couple stuff at the airport, and she sent him off, telling him to say hello to the varmints.

  He texted her Tuesday morning.

  How'd you sleep?

  She smiled at the text, typing back.

  Well. All's quiet. Then she turned back to her busy day. She was behind on class prep and stayed late so she'd be enough ahead that she could fly out to Seattle on Friday evening and stay without needing to do any work except grading. Her mind wandered into a pleasant fog for most of the afternoon.

  By the time she returned home from work it was dusk. She hurried a little up the front steps, her bag in one hand, a small pizza box in the other, knowing what the villagers much have felt like way back when. That sense of impending doom grew upon her as it got darker and she yawned with fatigue from the weekend and the long day.

  Her phone rang as she got in the door.

  "I couldn't wait any longer," he said.