Filthy Smut (Vol. 4): 35 Erotic Stories (Over 400 Pages of Hot Sex)

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Filthy Smut (Vol. 4): 35 Erotic Stories (Over 400 Pages of Hot Sex) Page 23

by Alora Matisse


  Themes: rough sex

  I walked across the campus slowly, enjoying the crisp tang of the air. The leaves had fallen earlier that week and they covered the dying grass with glorious red and gold hues; the occasional still- green leaf and curled brown one peeked up from the drifts, making me think of Chance Riley, the artist I had been posing for, and his love of color.

  The very thought of him made me shiver with delight. Several weeks earlier I had answered an ad for an artist’s model. I had been in desperate need of a job, I had a scholarship but it didn’t allow me to have anything extra. I had been incredibly nervous the first time I had stepped into the large loft where Chance lived and worked but I had forgotten to be nervous when he stepped out from behind a canvas. He had broad shoulders, a muscular chest and a flat belly that tapered down to a narrow waist and lean hips, a firm ass, lean flat thighs and well developed calves. His black hair fell over his high forehead and his piercing blue eyes made me feel weak in the knees.

  “I’m Kelly,” I stuttered out. “I am here about the job; you put an ad in the paper.” I realized I was babbling and fell silent.

  “So you’re the model huh?” He had asked, “Take all of your clothes off and stand on that little platform.”

  “But, it’s right next to the window! Anyone could see me!” I had protested.

  “Then get out,” Chance said. “I need the light and if you are too shy to truly allow me to paint you get out of here, I have other applicants.”

  That casual cruelty had struck me hard, but it excited me as well. I posed for him that day and then I went home to my small dorm room, locked the door to keep my roommate out, and masturbated furiously and repeatedly. I had imagined Chance between my thighs, licking at the tender flesh of my labia, sliding one of his long and elegant fingers into my heated depths and finally, his dick thrusting into me hard and fast.

  Cutting across a concrete quad I waved at a few acquaintances and then groaned as Ned waved at me and trotted to catch up.

  “Hey Kelly,” he said, “Where have you been?”

  I felt a pang of guilt; I had been dating Ned in a casual way most of the year and knew I should feel something for him but his typical surfer boy looks and laid back attitude had never excited me. He was the kind of guy who liked to watch football games and hang out in sports bars and the sex between us was as bland and neutral as the décor of the places that we hung out in. I had been bored with the relationship almost from its outset but I could not explain to anyone how I could be so blasé about a guy everyone thought was such a good catch. I also had no idea how to explain that I was often bored by the entire life I was leading either, or why it was that posing for Chance made me feel incredibly alive.

  “I’ve been busy with classwork and trying to make some extra money.” I said in as noncommittal a tone as I could manage.

  “How about I come over tonight? We could watch a movie and spend some time together.”

  I winced. That was the other thing about Ned that I disliked, he was a student like me and didn’t have a lot of money but he always seemed to have enough for beer and for hanging out with his friends. When it came to me though, it was an entirely different story, he had only bought our dinner twice and going out with him was often more expensive than I could afford due to his ‘forgetting’ his credit cards and cash.

  “I don’t think so, Lydia broke up with her boyfriend so she’s in the room a lot,” I said finally.

  “Well can’t you get rid of her for a couple of hours? Ned wheedled.

  “Why can’t we go to your room if you want to see me so badly?” I snapped, my patience finally wearing thin.

  “You know I’m stuck rooming with that weirdo Thorne,” Ned grumbled.” He never goes out.”

  “And you would never consider springing for a room.”

  “Why should we get a room?” Ned asked, “I can’t afford that kind of money and you have a perfectly good room.”

  “I have to go to work.” I said and stormed off. I was so angry I almost walked into the corner of the Liberal Arts building. My anger only increased with each step, I honestly resented Ned’s obvious disregard for me, he seemed to feel that he was entitled to my body and my time and that he owed me nothing in return and at that moment it hit me that I was absolutely done with him.

  I made it to my car and got in, my thoughts turning away from Ned and back to Chase. A shiver ran down my spine as I dreamily contemplated an entire afternoon spent naked under his gaze. My pussy gave a little quiver as I imagined him coming to the little platform where I stood to straighten my arm, or to instruct me to bend a leg. I could almost feel his hands on my flesh and I had to take a few slow breaths and force myself to concentrate in order to navigate through traffic safely.

  I pulled up in front of his apartment house and sat there looking at it. The tall brownstone building sat in a long strip of similar buildings. The whole neighborhood had a slightly seedy, hangdog air. Nightclubs marched through the avenue that cut across the street on which Chance lived, and small cheap restaurants nestled cheek and jowl with tiny stores that sold knockoffs of designer clothing and shoes. The apartment Chance owned had once been the home of a famous writer who had died in France, a fact that always made me feel goose bumps whenever I entered the space.

  I got out of my car and strutted to the door, deliberately rolling my hips just in case he was watching through the enormous windows. I hit the buzzer and he took a long time to answer, when he did he was shirtless, a bright blue streak of paint ran across his left cheek and his hair was a rumpled mess on his finely shaped head. That sight made my heart contract painfully and my crotch to give a low insistent throb.

  “You’re late,” he said by way of greeting.

  “Sorry,” I said as I squeezed past him. His masculine and slightly musky scent hit me as I did so and I could feel my nipples tightening.

  I went through the mostly barren living room, the television was on and I ignored it, I had long since learned he left it on for the noise but that he rarely if ever watched it. I could see the tiny and surprisingly neat kitchen to the right but most of my attention was focused on the ornate wrought iron staircase that spiraled up to the open second floor.

  The entire upper floor had been converted to Chance’s studio. Light poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and was reflected back by the large mirror that hung near the small alcove that served as his bedroom. The sight of bed, covered in pillows and covers of varying colors and texture, had fired my imagination more often than I would like to have to admit to.

  Chance said nothing as I stripped off my black leather jacket, red silk blouse, tiny black skirt and boots, saving the tights for last. I had not worn a bra and my breasts, freed from the blouse, sat perkily on my chest. In the mirror I could see myself: long blonde hair hanging freely over slim shoulders, blue eyes under light brows and a set of full pink lips that I knew were kissable. My waist narrowed into a set of lean hips and my ass curved out like a bell behind. My legs were slim and long and my feet narrow and highly arched.

  I positioned myself up on the platform and turned my head to gaze out the windows at the street below. My pussy dripped fluid as I saw a pair of men walk out of the bar across the street and stare up at me. One of them even made a lewd gesture with his pelvis that made an answering ache in my crotch. It shocked me, how much I really enjoyed being on display, how much it turned me on.

  The day began to wane while Chance painted. Upon occasion I would shift just slightly so that he would come over and touch me as he rearranged me to his liking. After the third time he said, “Your skin is like ice. The wind is starting to pick up. I’ll go get you a warm drink, just relax for a few minutes.”

  “Okay,” I said, stepping down from the platform gratefully. The long hours left my muscles cramped and stiff.

  Chance vanished down the stairs and I wandered over to his easel. Instantly I was awed, he had painted me, in the pose I had been standing in, but the b
ackdrop was that of an ancient castle and a large dragon was winging its way towards me. Curious as to what else he had painted me as I went to the stacks of canvases against the walls and began to riffle through them. The passion in the pieces was obvious, I could almost feel the air, smell the distant sea in one. I stroked one painting that had me lying flat, looking up, one finger lying almost teasingly across my right breast. I recalled all too well the days he had painted that picture; I had nearly dislocated my wrist masturbating the nights after.

  “Here is some herbal tea,” Chance said from behind me.

  Startled I jumped and screamed. The painting that I had been looking at fell against another one with a terrific bang, a tiny crack appeared in the canvas and Chance yelled, “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I was just looking.”

  Chance thrust the steaming cup at her and I sat it down on the platform, unsure what else to do. “This one is cracked! I am going to have to try to restore it! I want you to get dressed and get the hell out of here!”

  I felt fear stir up inside of her belly, I needed the money that Chase paid me for posing but more, I needed to be around Chance, even if it was just to be his model.

  “Please, I am so sorry. I will be good, I promise! Just let me stay and I will do anything to make it up to you!”

  A strangely stormy expression settled onto his handsome face, “You would do anything? Are you sure you mean anything?”

  “I do.” I did too; I would do anything I had to as long as I could stay. I moved closer, smiling in a cutesy little way, and pressed my body close to his. The warmth of his skin was intoxicating, I rubbed my hips upward against the rippled terrain of his denim clad crotch, the bulge there made me catch my breath and I knew that I was not leaving until he fucked me if I could help it. I knew without a doubt he would bring just as much passion to sex as he brought to painting and I wanted to feel that.

  “Get on your knees.”

  I stared at him. “What?”

  Chance unbuttoned the fly of his jeans, his rigid and thick cock sprang free from the denim and I fell to my knees so fast I could feel them scraping across the hardwood of the floor. His cock touched my lips, the swollen purple head grazing against my mouth. I hungrily opened up and he chuckled as he slid just an inch of that long and hard meat into my mouth.

  A tiny drop of pre-come had leaked out of the tiny slit on his head and I savored the taste of it, slightly salty and thin. I opened my mouth wider as he slid more inches into me, my throat and gag reflex tried to reject him but he ignored that, his hips bucked hard and he was all the way down my throat.

  His fingers tangled into my hair, dragging me closer as he growled out, “Do it, suck my cock, you have to pay for your mistake. If you want to stay here you will be a very good girl and do exactly what I tell you to do.”

  “I will,” I said as I stared up at him.

  He thrust his hips into my face while I bobbed my head, desperate to keep up, to make sure he knew how badly I wanted it. My tongue danced around the shaft, my fingers slid up and down, my hand increasing the pleasure by adding pressure to the blowjob. I ducked my head lower, taking his balls into my mouth. I sucked on them, relishing the heaviness of them, the thick black hair that covered them scraped my tongue and I moved back to his shaft, swirling my tongue across the sensitive area where his head and the shaft joined.

  “Stop,” he commanded and pushed me away. I landed on my ass but before I could really register what was happening he turned me over so that my ass was up in the air and my knees were pressed into the floor. “Look at that pretty ass,” he said as he kneaded my cheeks with his hard hands, “I am going to enjoy the sight of my cock thrusting into that sweet little pussy of yours.”

  I whimpered; the cool air that leaked around the windows ran across my wet and exposed mound, clueing me in on just how excited I was. His cock pressed against the wet seam of my channel, making me half-mad with lust. A bare inch slid inside me, my own juices easing his way. He pressed in hard and fast, no warm up strokes or soft words, his cock filled me up entirely.

  My nipples scraped the floor, the pain was intense but all it did was turn me on further. I jerked and arched below him and he grated out, “I think someone needs to learn how to behave a bit better.”

  The first slap on my ass cheeks was such a surprise I simply stared at the floor, when the second one hit I screamed. My pussy gave a spasm that gave away my arousal; he chuckled and slapped me again, making my ass cheeks jiggle and jump. They began to feel hot and to sting but the pain faded almost instantly as pleasure from his cock echoed throughout my body.

  He pulled me up and his fingers went to my nipples, cruelly twisting and pulling at them. “I think you want to come,” he said. “Am I wrong?”

  “No,” I sobbed out, “You aren’t wrong. I want to come so badly.”

  “I will let you come if you do exactly as I say.”

  “I will!” I howled out.

  “Don’t move, just let me fuck you. If you move I am going to stop and send you home. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I panted. Not moving was the hardest thing to obey. Every instinct urged me to push back, to take as much of his long and heavy cock as I could but I stayed still, feeling his heavy balls slapping against my ass and his hips pistoning against mine. His cock slid in and out faster and faster, the friction became almost unbearable and I planted my hands and knees and braced myself as hard as I could. Juice from my pussy slid down my inner thighs and dripped onto the floor, I could smell our sex and when I lifted my head I saw him, saw us, in the mirror.

  His face was red and his teeth were studded into his bottom lip, the look of fierce concentration on his face held me transfixed. My pussy squeezed and opened as my orgasm began to flow through me. “Please can I come?” I begged and he said, “Yes, if you come right now.”

  I did. Spasm after spasm shuddered through me. I sobbed out loud as his fingers held my hips prisoner while he tilted my ass up higher so he could penetrate me even more deeply. He grunted once more and then he rammed into me so hard I almost slid across the floor.

  His cock twitched and throbbed inside my wet slit as he pulled out. His fist wrapped around the florid and engorged length, creamy white come spurted out of the hole and splattered across my reddened ass cheeks. We both collapsed onto the floor, his weight pinning me down.

  When we were both recovered enough to get up he moved off of me and slid his lean body back into his jeans. I stood there, feeling unsure of what to say or do. Finally he spoke, “I would like to see you back here tomorrow.”

  “So I am still going to be modeling for you?”

  “If modeling is all you want to do, that is up to you. “

  My heart began to beat a little faster, “I see.”

  “Of course, I am a very demanding man, as you just found out.’

  “I can deal with that,” I replied.

  “Get dressed, I’ll buy you dinner. I insist that anyone who lets me fuck them like that gets fed afterwards.”

  “I could eat,” I said and went to the little corner where my clothes lay in a neat little pile.

  His hands slid over my waist in a gesture that made me shiver, it was so possessive and protective at the same time. Outside the sun was going down and I could see a couple going into the bar. They looked up and saw me, my nipples pressed flat against the glass and his hands around my waist.

  “We could do dinner later,” I murmured and he laughed, landing a not playful swat on my ass. “No, you need to eat. I have an idea of how I want to paint you next so you will need your strength; it looks like it will be a long night for the two of us.”

  I smiled and turned away from the window to get dressed.

  Hot Tub Romp

  by Ellie Soap

  Themes: public sex

  Kieran gingerly caught me as I walked out of the bar, missing a step and nearly tripping. Still laughing about something Kieran had
said, I struggled to get back my poise and my balance, the latter proving to be quite the challenge considering the fact that I was buzzed and wearing 4-inch high Jimmy Choo stiletto sandals.

  Normally, I would have scolded myself for having gotten myself even just slightly tipsy, being the competitive and critical perfectionist that I am. This whole week, however, was not normal.

  Instead, I cursed my decision to wear my favorite stilettos to the bar – what on earth was I thinking? – and making a note that I would never again get a drop of alcohol to drink while wearing them, I hastily took them off and slung them over my shoulder as I walked beside Kieran back to our deluxe suite, which, thankfully, was not too far away.

  As we walked, I tucked my arm in his and gently rested my head on his shoulder, relishing the fact that we were taking a stroll under a bright full moon while listening to the palm leaves rustling with each brush of the sea breeze and the sound of gentle waves rolling just close by. I was a romantic, too, after all, the kind who read romance novels with happily-ever-after endings up until I was twenty-two and ended up falling in love with the half-naked, devilishly handsome man on the cover half the time, only to find that most of them were drawn after the same man and that such romances did not happen in real life – until I met Kieran, that is.

 

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