Dirty Erotica Sex Stories

by Jenny Ramshard

  “W-Who are you?” she demanded.

  Max chuckled, “Relax my pretty; he’s my best friend Aljuro. We share everything…”

  He let the words trail off suggestively.

  Tara stared from one man to the other. She had let Max make love to her because she liked him but this other man?

  She licked her lips hesitantly. She wasn’t sure she could do it. She didn’t think she could—

  Wouldn’t that make her —

  Max seemed to have read her thoughts because he reached out one hand and caressed her lips. “Don’t think such thoughts Tara. If you’re not the type to make love with more than one person then you have your freedom to choose what you want. We would never force anything you’re uncomfortable with on you.”

  She bit her lip in thought, then slowly shook her head.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Aljuro shrugged and laughed, “It’s okay doll. I’ll go drill the other pussy waiting for me so eagerly.”

  As he swung away, Tara’s thoughts intruded, Goody two shoes Tara. When are you going to do things you’ve never done before?

  “Wait,” she called.

  He paused midstride and looked at her over his shoulder. “I want, um, I want to try something new.”

  He grinned and strode over to the bed. He vaulted onto the mattress and gave Max a playful shove.

  “Get off old boy.”

  “Hey. I haven’t fucked her,” Max protested.

  Aljuro arched an eyebrow, his expression amused and doubtful.

  “Alright not really,” Max conceded.

  Aljuro bent over Tara and began to suck her breasts and Tara began to moan as he did wonders with his tongue. He was something alright.

  Max bent between her legs and began to suck and finger her.

  Tara groaned, twisting and bucking as she screamed and moaned beneath both of them.

  Suddenly Max lifted up and positioned his penis between her legs. He thrust into her pussy and she screamed. He began to move in and out, faster and faster and fasterpumping his dick deep into her pussy until she was sure her brain was going to burst from excess pleasure.

  Aljuro moved over her and pushed his fat dick into her hand. He began to pump up and down, fucking her mouth while Max fucked her pussy.

  The butt plug was still in her asshole; she was literally being drilled in every hole.

  Sensation became tangible in a kaleidoscope of colors until she felt her entire body begin to tauten and tighten. She wanted to scream aloud but Aljuro filled her mouth so completely.

  Soon she felt a floating sensation and she shut her eyes tight as it felt as though her body was levitating. Pleasure pooled in the lower part of her stomach and then began to gather and gather and suddenly it burst in a final splash of pleasure.

  As she came, Max screamed her name and poured his seed deep into her waiting pussy.

  His penis still jerking, he finally pulled slowly out of her. The motion rubbed his entire length along the already sensitized inside of her pussy and her vaginal muscles clamped down frantically as though to keep him from pulling out.

  She felt Max’s surprise and then he reached out a hand and rubbed her clitoris gently. She was surprised herself. What was it about Max that made her wanton and insatiable?

  Aljuro was still fucking her mouth, moaning softly as he moved up and down, up and down.He reached down to pinch her nipples, his gaze locked on hers.

  “You have a beautiful mouth baby.”

  Tara smiled into his eyes, her tongue stroking his velvety tip as he kept pulling in and out of her.

  Suddenly he pulled out completely, his gaze locked on hers as he began to rub his penis hard and hard until he started to cum too. He aimed his dick at her neck and poured his sperm around her neck forming a pearl necklace at her throat.

  Tara was spent. She could not remember when last she had made love so robustly, she thought to herself as she slowly got out of Max’s bed and rolled towards the bathroom. She needed to have her bath and she needed it fast. She had been loved so thoroughly that she could barely stand straight.

  She stumbled into the bathroom and managed to slide into the bathtub. The water was warm and she sighed with pleasure as every muscle soaked in the warmth. She wanted desperately to sleep for the nest several hours but she could already see her mother’s missed calls and several messages demanding to know why her drink had not arrived.

  With a sigh, Tara dipped lower beneath the water bubbles. She could sleep like this.

  A small sound made her eyes open and she looked in surprise. Max was seating beside her on the tub.

  She blinked lazily up at him. The man had the stamina of ten men! Long after Aljuro had left, Max had managed to fuck her two more times, drilling her good in both holes until she was begging for mercy.

  If he touched her one more time she would dissolve into a million pieces, she thought swallowing nervously.

  “I enjoyed making love to you,” he said slowly reaching out a hand and gently stroking one of her breasts.

  Tara’s lips canted in a weak smile.

  Max bent his head and slowly suckled one nipple.

  “Oh no. I’m tired.”

  “Shh,” he whispered.

  Her nipple beaded into hard points again as he began to suck them gently. When he was done, he lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

  “Come back tonight,” he whispered.

  Tara shook her head. “I need to recover first. You’re a hard lover.”

  He chuckled, pleased, and walked off.

  Tara washed off the rest of the soap suds from her body and rinsed off before traipsing into the room, wearing the towel.

  A quick look around told her he had already gone. As she dressed hurriedly in her jeans and top, she wanted to be certain she didn’t show signs of the sort of day she had had. Her mum would sniff it out in a heartbeat and never let her hear the end of it.

  Now she had had her bath, she felt rejuvenated.

  She grabbed her bags and headed for the door. Max hadn’t paid her, she thought. As though on cue, he appeared in the doorway of his office holding an envelope.

  Tara stared at him, confused as he stretched his hand out and she said, “There are two envelopes.”

  “One for you and one for the road.”

  Tara took the envelopes and then she turned to leave.

  A thought made her hesitate and she looked over her shoulder. Max looked incredibly handsome standing in the doorway.

  She knew she would fall for him in a heartbeat if she let herself.

  Her voice laden with regret, she said what both of them already knew, “We won’t see again Max. It’s not a good idea.”

  She expected him to look upset but to her shock, his lips canted in a half-smile before the full smile spread wide all over his face. He raced across the space that separated them and lifted her clean off her feet, “In that case, I say we spend the rest of the night in bed. Make good use of what time we do have.”

  She choked back a horrified laugh as he carted her into his office, his face already buried in her generous cleavage.

  Few seconds later, Tara was flat on her back again, screaming and moaning and pleading for more as her Master loved her thoroughly.

  She was tight, he was huge. She was wet; he was hot and ready. She was warm and pliant and feminine; he was masculine, hard and rigid as he pounded away between her pussy playing with the nipple clamps he had affixed at her nipples.

  Tara was awash in sensations every cell on fire as he loved her. It didn’t take long for her to change her mind: she would have more of him as many times as she could.

  He had awaken something deep inside of her.

  With a grin, she suddenly rolled, taking him with her. She saw the surprise on his face as she ended up on top of him and said, “My turn. I’ll fuck you now.”

  He grinned widely. Then he reached out his hands and began to knead her breasts, “I thought you were never going to offer to d
o so. Fuck me honey.”

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  TEMPTATION TALES

  Story 3

  Chapter One

  The landlord of The Garter Knights, a venerable old pub in Shirepoole located exactly halfway between the Bristol docks and the Bristol Channel proper was staring at two of his patrons with eyes agape. It was not just the sight of two such Lordly fellows – identifiable by their dress as wealthy and their signet rings as high-born – in his run down pub in which no one of a higher ranked than an ensign would drink in most days. Nor was it the five pound note they had paid for their gin with – an amount that covered almost a full year’s pay for the boy he had working as general dogsbody now that his knees were going and he couldn’t haul barrels like he used to. No, what had him staring through the fog of tobacco smoke at these two gentlemen was the astonishing coarseness of speech. The filth the sailors talked would turn the air blue in the courts of the great and mighty, until he sat down and heard these “Gentlemen” speak. True they spoke with a lighter touch, and used all the right words for all those dirty parts, but there was in their speech more filth than he’d heard from an entire boatload of sailors.

  Where Johnny Jack-Tar might have “fucked a whore” last night, or have boasted briefly of his successes in seducing an especially delicate cabin boy, these “Gentlemen” were talking in no such generalities, and their boasts carried with them a multitude of detail.

  The older one, thirty-something and showing the lightest dusting of grey in his jet black hair was expounding on the sensitivities not only of a young ladies rump but of her “anus”, her “sphincter”, the risk of “passing wind” and the embarrassment of “ejaculating” too soon within her “clenched arse-hold” instead of “pulling out” to finish in “a glorious spattering across her moon-like buttocks”.

  It was, in the landlord’s view, almost like being there.

  The younger man – a fair young man who appeared nearer twenty-five than thirty – laughed rather harshly at his older compatriot at the end of the story and told him scornfully that while his obsession with the female rump was of course understandable there was little in it for the woman, and that as a lover, he would always put the “climactic pleasures of the woman first above even his own.”

  To this end he had a number of techniques which the landlord leaned in closer to hear thinking with some fondness of his wife of twenty-eight years and eleven offspring once she birthed the current one.

  But before the younger man could expand upon his array of techniques the older man shook his head and told his friend to stow his advice.

  “A man of my years has little to learn from a little sprite like yourself. Trust to experience and listen well to your elders.”

  The younger man shook his locks and laughed at his friend’s teasing tone: “I’m sure your ways work wonders with the tired old widows you target, but the real test of masculine talent is the freshest young virgins. Why I was just at Lady Elizabeth’s country estate last week –”

  “I hope you are not going to suggest that Lady Elizabeth is the freshest of young virgins, my boy. I have myself made sure that is not the case.”

  “No, Lady Elizabeth is no fresh virgin. I have myself some experience of her experience between sheets. That woman has a mouth I was ready to marry by the time she had run it up and down my flagpole a few times. No, you are correct my friend that Lady Elizabeth is no fresh virgin.”

  “Well, what was your point in bringing her up then?”

  “As of last week, neither is her ward.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and though I was myself as stealthy in my repeated entrance and egress from her saintly body, she was in such paroxysms that I had to finish my ravaging of her cunny to the sound of Lady Elizabeth’s butler trying to break the lock on the door in the belief that Miss…” The blonde youth trailed off. “You know I’ve quite forgotten her name.”

  “Cecelia,” said the older man a little wistfully. “You know when I sat with her at supper once I could have sworn I could smell her charming little cunny through her petticoats. How sad that I was not the first to penetrate her secrets.”

  The younger man looked decidedly smug.

  “Point is that she was brought to the most remarkable climax by my works, to the point where her cries in the grips of the petit mort were thought to be of a more permanent sort of death.”

  “An unverifiable story is hardly proof of youth over experience. Besides I’ve had my fair share of virgins in my time and any given one might be made to sing an Ave Maria but it’s a trickier business getting a consistent result.”

  The landlord was aching by this point to know how it was not only that these rakes were able to rack up so much data on the habits of virgins but exactly what the younger man was doing to Miss Cecelia that made her enjoy her first encounter quite so much.

  He listened closer.

  “I propose a bet, old man.”

  “Propose away, boy.”

  “We find ourselves a few fine young fillies, one each and in the delightful and within witness of the other enjoy the fruits of their flesh. The first person to bring their partner to fruition wins.”

  “I see and the stakes.”

  “One hundred pounds.”

  “Let’s make it two-hundred, I have a gambling debt needs paying.”

  “Two hundred it is.”

  With hope they looked around the bar and took in the array of sailors. Both men met the eye of the barman and winked at him, and rather unsure of himself he winked back.

  With a sudden horror he thought of his daughters and ran to tell his wife to keep the girls indoors for a while. Until these rakes had settled their bet.

  Chapter Two

  The coach bore four young ladies into the Shirepoole markets with great aplomb. It was a two horse open top which showed off its precious cargo to great effect. Four young women in the neat dress expected of the daughters of successful merchants.

  Nancy, the oldest was nearly one-and-twenty and felt her companions to be rather foolish young girls who were obsessed as most girls of eighteen are with the prospect of meeting a dashing member of the Shirepoole regiment in officer’s dress.

  She had no need of such silliness, after all she was engaged to be married to Richie Price as soon as he brought back father’s boat from the West Indies loaded with a stock of spices, tea and tobacco plus whatever profit he had turned on the delicate English China and he had sailed out with in his hold.

  As the oldest, it was her job to supervise her three charges. Her younger sister, a naive and excitable blonde short and curvy and a contrast to Nancy’s own tall, slender body and brunette curls. This was Kelly.

  Their companions were Kelly’s closest friends, Moira, a pale and freckled half-Irish redhead and Alice an octaroon with exotic dark and frizzy hair and sun-tanned skin. Her grandfather had fought for King George against the America Rebels before being given passage to Shirepoole.

  Nancy watched in silence as they discussed their romantic hopes and spoke in hushed tones of marital duties they had heard performed. She watched a prostitute talking to some sailors as they pulled up outside The Garter Knights and their old and tired looking driver hopped down and opened the carriage door for them.

  Kelly smiled shyly as the driver took her hand and helped her down to the street, Alice with great dignity stepped down without taking his hand and the lithe, tall, fairy like Moira followed without needing to.

  Nancy took the offered hand and settled down on the street. The conversation of her wards had her worried. With likely marriage coming up she felt a deep yearning to know what was in store. There were so many things she would have to learn and no one to ask to find them out.

  “Wouldn’t it be fun to go in,” said Alice. “It would quite shock the men to see four young women in such a place.”

  “You’ll only attract ruffians to us if we do,” replied Moira.

  “Wouldn�
�t it be wicked to enter such a sinful place? Don’t they sell gin in public houses like that?” asked Kelly.

  Nancy, who at first had rejected the idea of being seen in such a working class pub, was ready to tell them to go on and head into the market but some urge to prove her worldliness to these youngsters suggested a new plan to her.

  “It is just as well for young women like you to learn something of the world, let’s get a single gin in this place. Perhaps have a short conversation with the local colour then we really must move on to the market, girls.”

  “Oh, what fun,” yelped Alice.

  Moira’s haughty look changed a little, Nancy had noticed that Moira would often try to follow her own lead in an effort to appear older. The result was much the opposite but Nancy found it rather flattering.

  Kelly had fallen silent and looked rather nervous about it all.

  The smoky gloom of the pub made Nancy’s eyes water a bit. But she couldn’t help but notice that the soft lighting and smoky air showed her and her companions in a very flattering light. The hoops of their skirts and corset bound midriffs made for a beautiful silhouette and the fact that they were all dressed in white dresses with pink and grey trim gave them a somewhat angelic appearance in this den of vice and sin.

  The four of them made their way into the small snug which was empty and rounded about by leather benches set into the wall. The single table sat in the middle and filled up the room. It was very private and once seated they all felt a little more comfortable. Moira and Kelly sat on one side, while Alice joined Nancy. Sat close now, she noticed the smell of Alice’s perfume and the smell reminded her of something warm and soft. Alice was very beautiful, Nancy thought looking at her. Large full lips and an elegant carriage. Her wiry hair was piled atop her head in a bun and Nancy found herself wondering what it would smell like if she leaned in for a fuller, warmer smell.

  Lost in this unexpected reverie Nancy was suddenly startled awake when the quizzical voice of the landlord came from the doorway of the cramped little room: “What might I be able to get you young ladies today?”