Nice Girls, Naughty Sex

by Jordan LaRousse

  Evelyn wanted to touch herself and released one hand from Anne’s breast, to slip it under the silk of her sodden thong and play her fingers against her cunt and that insistent nubbin of clitoris. But he shook his head, and she twisted Anne’s nipple anew.

  He Showed Her Things

  That Anne enjoyed—things that hurt her. A broad leather strap, stiffened, that left distinctive stripes upon her upraised, tender thighs. He brought it lightly across Evelyn’s buttocks, so that she could get a feel for the leather, and she jumped at its touch. He licked Anne relentlessly and made her squirm against her bindings, with fingers in her cunt and asshole. He showed Evelyn a monstrous dildo, of a length and girth she found inconceivable, and he held it against her bottom. And he fucked Evelyn with it, sliding aside the thin band of her thong to push that great thing into her open and aching cunt and make it wet for his whore. Evelyn thrust against it and whimpered when he pulled it from her.

  “Put your cunt over her face, Evelyn,” he said, and she needed no further instruction, pivoting a leg over the helpless woman’s face to slowly seek out its contours with her cunt, pulling aside the damp nothingness at her crotch that she might hold her swollen labia to Anne’s mouth.

  And finally, with Evelyn astride the bound and thrashing woman, he slipped that immense hard-on into Anne, and she groaned and grunted like a beast to feel him fill her so tremendously. Evelyn knew he was fucking her ass and felt Anne’s breath roar out hot upon her cunt. He filled her again and again, the length of him pushed shatteringly into Anne’s tightness, sending rippling shockwaves throughout the breadth of her big body. Evelyn leaned toward him, her mouth open and her eyes shut, and he pulled her to him, his fingers twisted in her hair, and he kissed her that way, her mouth held tight to his.

  Evelyn Was So Close

  When he came, roaring into Anne, that she might have nudged herself easily into the abyss, but he held her back while Anne quivered and shook beneath her and the echoes of his bellows still filled the room. Evelyn held fast on the edge, her body taut and vibrating, her hips thrusting forth of their own volition.

  He stepped ever so slowly back from Anne’s bared holes, his cock glistening with the seed of his explosion. He put Evelyn upon her back and held her so, while he loosened the cords that held Anne’s limbs tightly upraised and freed her hands. A haze not unlike the mist that rises along the shore, warming until it burns off, enveloped her—and him as well—making their movements seem slow and deliberate.

  The arms that encircled Evelyn had thick cuffs at her wrists. The sheer size of her. Hands upon her buttocks. Possessing her. And that great fake penis that Anne now worked once more inside Evelyn.

  Evelyn Felt Stretched Beyond Belief

  When Anne put the thing into her. He held her head and kissed her, while Anne wrapped the rest of Evelyn’s small body—so tight, like a clock-spring wound one turn too many—in her own and fucked her. To make her cry out and moan. To make her shout and thrash about. And finally to shriek and to shudder, with Anne’s long, slim finger in her bottom—giving her the headlong-thrusting nudge that sent her careening off to a place where there was nothing but cunt and asshole. Her own. She might have been drooling. Or crying. But finally her hips ceased thrusting and her breathing slowed. She was sandwiched between them. Evelyn could see properly again. She smiled.

  But Why?

  “Because I can,” replied Anne, softly. That was all Evelyn really wanted to know.

  And One Night, Not Too Much Later

  With Richard hard and hungry, rubbing himself against her buttocks, fanning the flames of hers that never seemed to quite burn down, she took hold of his straining cock and pressed it tightly above her little asshole.

  “Richard, if you want to fuck me . . . ” Evelyn said. Richard needed to hear no more. He moved to her bottom. It was a beautiful thing.

  CORSET

  Kay Jaybee

  As the corset was pulled tighter around her suitably buxom figure, Rose felt like the air was being squeezed from her body.

  “Steady, Andrew; I’ll pass out in a minute.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first smart lady to do that.”

  “Come off it, this is only pretend. I’m not supposed to have cracked ribs, you know!”

  Rose attempted to take a deep breath and totally failed, wondering if her costar was gleaning a secret pleasure from pulling the final lace firmly into place.

  The opening of the amateur production of The Importance of Being Earnest was only two nights away, and they were having a last dress rehearsal that evening.

  “Are you sure I’m not too big to play Gwendolen?” she asked, still feeling self-conscious about her role.

  Andrew, biting back his thoughts of how totally fuckable this woman was, sighed as he watched Rose pull a petticoat, and then a dress, over her torturous but seductive undergarments. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times. You are gorgeous as Gwendolen.

  Anyway, you’re way too young to play Lady Bracknell, and far too talented not to be in the cast.”

  Rose tugged her skirt so that it lay flat over her petticoats. “Gwendolen really wasn’t supposed to be this plump.”

  “You are not plump; you are perfect, and having seen you in that corset and those garters, I know what I’m talking about.” Andrew ran his hands around Rose’s waist in appreciation of its slimness and was immediately thankful he’d already changed into his costume, as the long jacket hid his sudden erection.

  Rose smiled at him, hiding her own secret desire, and tried to focus on the forthcoming performance. She was determined not to allow herself to think about what she’d privately planned for afterward, hoping like mad that she hadn’t read the signs wrong.

  As Algernon, Andrew strutted around the stage, projecting the playful arrogance of the character like it was second nature. Somehow, as distracted as she felt, Rose performed her part, and at last, after final tips and reassurances from the director and producer, the cast were free to depart from both the stage and their costumes.

  Rose moved quickly, dashing ahead of her fellow actors, and with the help of the prompt, divested herself of both dress and petticoat. Then, leaving the exquisite cream corset in place, she put her baggy old navy shirt and a long denim skirt over the top. She grabbed her black boots and, pulling them on, did her best to move as if her ribs and lungs weren’t sharply compressed under her everyday clothing.

  “Oh.” Andrew was disappointed to see Rose had managed to change without him. “You’re done already.”

  “It’s much easier to undo than do up,” Rose lied as she steered him toward the door, and with a forwardness that was more associated with Gwendolen than herself, added, “Fancy sharing a pizza or something, at my place?”

  Andrew looked surprised. “That’d be great, yeah.”

  The pleased expression on Andrew’s face was reassuring to Rose. Her heart beat faster as she imagined what his reaction would be to the revelation of her secret garment.

  At her place, Rose left Andrew in the lounge examining the contents of her bookshelves while she went through to the kitchen. She poured two glasses of dry white wine, and, taking a gulp of the smooth liquid to steady her nerves, carried them into the living room.

  She watched Andrew for a moment as he stood, his tall, slim frame facing away from her, a pale finger running along the top shelf of her literary collection. His usually cropped black hair had become longer and slightly foppish to adjust to Algernon’s character, and his black denims and creased white shirt looked somehow wrong after the tailored suit and leggings he’d worn onstage.

  Putting the wineglasses down, Rose shook her long russet hair free from the pins that Gwendolen wore. Running her hands through her curls, she loosened out the knots. Considerably shorter than Andrew, Rose decided to keep her heeled boots on, whereas he’d already kicked his sneakers off into the corner of the room. Rose felt her bust heaving beneath her shirt and was reminded of those brightly covered 1
960s bodice-ripping novels she’d seen at the library. Trying not to giggle, she took as deep a breath as was possible in her corsetry and walked up to Andrew, slipping an unexpected hand into his.

  “I have a confession to make.” Rose uttered the words just as she’d rehearsed them the night before, in the quiet of her double bed.

  “You have?” He spoke softly, holding her hand tighter.

  “I’ve been a naughty girl.”

  Andrew said nothing, but turned to stand directly in front of her, his own heart pounding a little faster, as the beautiful creature of his frequently wanked-out fantasies confessed to him.

  “I’ve borrowed something without asking.”

  “Something?”

  “Would you like to see?” Rose dipped her head coquettishly to one side.

  “Oh yes,” Andrew breathed out the words, his mind racing ahead to what might happen next.

  Rose, no longer looking at his face in case she lost her nerve, took his hand so he’d follow her into the small bedroom that occupied the far corner of the flat.

  Shutting the door behind them, Rose pulled the curtains closed and lit the two candles that sat safely on her old-fashioned oak desk. The flickering flames sent shadows across the room as, with her back to Andrew, Rose undid her shirt, one button at a time, before dropping it to the floor. She didn’t have to see his face to know if he approved or not; the gasp that escaped from his lips was enough to give away his admiration.

  Stepping out of the denim skirt, Rose stood, her outline highlighted by the thin beams of light; boots, cream garters, corset, and wavy hair hanging down her back obscuring the top of the laces.

  Rose’s mouth felt dry as she waited for Andrew’s response. After a moment of tense silence, he came up behind her and, pressing his body against her back, brought his large hands around Rose’s waist and up to the bare flesh at the top of her cleavage. He leaned in to her ear and spoke with wonder. “How did you know this was what I wanted?”

  “I didn’t; I just hoped.” Rose tried to turn in his arms, but he held her in place.

  “No, stay like that. I’ve dreamed about doing so much more than untying these laces; I want to savor every second of this.”

  He gently lifted her hair to one side and laid it on one shoulder. He grasped the tops of both laces and, unlooping the tight fastening bow, took one end in each hand and yanked them hard. A surge of power charged through him. Her breath escaped her in a sharp exhale, and she tried not to panic. Her chest felt crushed as he continued to tug at the corset so brutally she became light-headed.

  Just as Rose started to feel faint, Andrew let out each lace slowly and eased the corset open just enough to free Rose’s glorious breasts.

  Only when he’d let her inhale a deep gulp of air did he turn Rose around, tracing the width of her protruding tits with a single finger, pinching each nipple before placing his mouth around one pert breast.

  Rose moaned softly as Andrew feasted, nipping at her skin with small, grazing bites. Then, pushing the boned material down under her chest a little further, he cradled a breast in each hand, and at last, with his hands full, leaned forward and kissed her. Big, powerful, greedy kisses that sucked what breath she had left out of Rose’s body. She broke away from him in surprise at the force of his assault.

  Rose looked at Andrew quizzically—she hadn’t pictured him as a dominant lover.

  He spoke gruffly, his own lust increasingly obvious. “Can I do what I want? Can I, Rose? I won’t go too far; I promise.”

  She hesitated for a second; she’d imagined gentle lovemaking, not a rough romp—this was even better than she’d hoped. She looked up at him through her long eyelashes. “You can.”

  His face lit up, and he stripped off his clothes.

  Rose sighed as she examined his newly naked body. He was stunning. Nothing like she’d imagined. Slim, but not skinny. There wasn’t an inch of fat on his body, and she could clearly see the outline of muscle, revealing how much stronger he was than he appeared when dressed.

  Kneeling, his stiff cock sticking out from his body, he began to roll down her satin panties, slowly inching them past her garters until they could be yanked over her boots. Easing her already shaky legs apart, he gently pushed her until she sat on the edge of the bed. He met her open pussy with a hot tongue.

  Rose gripped hold of her duvet as he probed deeper and deeper into her, swirling and lapping until she couldn’t help but let out a shudder of longing. Her inner thighs tightened and her clit tingled. Rocking her pelvis into his face, she arched her back. She felt a heady rush of warmth. She moaned; she was only a moment away from coming when suddenly, he withdrew.

  He grinned at her with roguish playfulness and pulled Rose from the bed and to her knees. Taking a great handful of her hair, he directed her face toward his cock.

  Gobbling greedily, Rose danced his shaft all around her mouth. She swallowed him down her throat, and then pulled back so that her tongue could dart over his length, before licking his head as if it were a lollipop. Feeling she was now in command, Rose suckled him with different degrees of pressure.

  Andrew broke free and looked down at her with wide, amazed eyes. He took hold of her smooth shoulders and lifted her to her feet. “I’ve never felt anything like that—that was. . . . ” Breaking off, Andrew adopted a stern tone, seizing the upper hand once more, and threw Rose facedown on the bed. “You almost let me lose control, young lady, and I’m not ready to end this yet.”

  Looking flirtatiously over her shoulder at him, Rose spoke with mock regret: “Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to, sir.”

  “I should think not.” Andrew scrabbled at her corset, undoing the long laces, and, at last, Rose’s torso was free. He allowed her to take a proper chestful of air, her first in hours, before he dropped on top of her.

  Rose felt his rigid cock dig against her backside as Andrew’s hands smoothed her hair, then her shoulders. He drew back and off of her, so his palms could glide over every section of her pastel skin. Planting a violent kiss on each of her gorgeously overripe buttocks, he dragged Rose’s legs up. Her weight rested on her elbows, and her backside was tilted high, an easy target for his eager hands.

  Pulling, kneading, and pinching her flesh, he turned all of his attention to the delicious arse in front of him. He trapped her lower legs beneath him and slid a finger into her slick pussy. Rose whined into the duvet as he smeared her juices around her clit and up the crack of her butt. Over and over again he repeated the same move, making Rose wriggle beneath him. He slapped her hard, leaving a red blotch where his palm had made contact with her flesh. “Be still.” His voice was low and commanding.

  Biting her lip, and using all her powers of concentration, Rose managed to stop moving as Andrew recommenced his caress, streaking her wetness up her backside, until he began to venture further, pushing a damp finger into her butt. Rose stiffened at the unaccustomed invasion before forcing herself to relax against his touch. Just as she calmed down, he surprised her with a sharp spank that set her on fire once again.

  Her snatch was so wet she began to drip against his hand and the bed. “My, my, what a wanton you are, young miss.” Andrew massaged his finger over her anus, adding a second digit to the first.

  “Please. . . . ” Rose murmured into her bed linen.

  “Please? Please what, Rose? Please stop? Please do it harder? Please what?” Andrew’s voice was rough, his own need for release taking over.

  “I don’t know.” Rose was weeping quietly. It all felt so fantastic. Each new thrust of his fingers hurt, and yet she didn’t want him to stop.

  Taking the matter into his own hands, Andrew pushed a third finger into her newly stretched hole for a few seconds, and then withdrew his hand entirely.

  “No!” Rose cried out in anguished yearning, surprising both of them.

  “You want more?” Andrew struggled not to fall out of his dominant character. Just the sight of her lying there, prone, was enough to make him need to c
ome.

  “Yes!” she begged.

  Leaping off the bed, he puffed out one of the candles and yanked it away from its holder. Without giving Rose a chance to react, he climbed back into position, the heat of the newly melted wax trickling warm and pliant between his fingers. Cooling and lubricating the candle by smearing it with her juices, he began to slide it between her butt cheeks. Perspiration broke out on Rose’s face and ran between her tits as Andrew pushed the smooth, tepid length further into her ass, causing her to emit guttural whimpers.

  Stopping suddenly, Andrew widened her legs further and pressed one palm firmly against the small of her back. “Keep still, young madam.” With his other fist holding the candle in place, Andrew began to lick the tender flesh between Rose’s vulva and the extruding length of wax.

  Rose screwed her eyes tightly shut, and colors somersaulted in her mind as she fought to remain still, despite the fact that every nerve in her body felt as if it were on fire. Each fresh lap of her lover’s tongue made her mission harder. Her neglected slit quaked as Andrew’s lips brushed alongside it, never making proper contact.

  The heat of his hand on her back pressing steadily harder made Rose feel more trapped than ever. Her helplessness enhanced every sensation as, at last, her companion shifted his mouth a few centimeters and kissed her pussy with ferocious passion.

  Rose’s back juddered within Andrew’s grip. Unable to hold back her reaction to the most mind-blowing fuck of her life any longer, she screamed, “I can’t, I have to come. . . . Please, I. . . !”

  Moving with extreme speed, Andrew knelt up behind her, and without further hesitation, sank his dick into her soaking channel. Rose yelled in ecstasy. Filled in both holes, Rose felt her insides packed to capacity, and she rocked herself as fast as she could, back and forth.

  Reaching a hand around to her clit, Andrew began to rub it with a single finger as Rose bucked against him, trying to force the candle deeper each time he thrust into her. Noticing what she was trying to do, Andrew withdrew his hand from her clit and gently eased the candle up and down inside her backside with each pump of their hips.