Dirty Erotica Sex Stories

by Jenny Ramshard

  “Oh, my god…fuck me… do it until I can’t walk the same way.” She was pushing herself up against him and I purposely got down on my feet almost collapsing underneath my own weight. I bent over in front of him and gave him a target to spear with his love lance.

  “This is my favorite position and there’s only one way to find out if it’s yours.” I was so close and it wasn’t going to take much to send me over the edge. I was hanging by a thread and he was looking at me while at the same time plugging her solid.

  “Don’t you fucking even think about it.” It was too late and he was already moving in behind me. He made a growl of an animal and then my feet literally came off the floor. I felt his hand on the small of my back holding me in place.

  “I still can’t get over the way that you fill me up.” It felt wrong to corrupt his young mind, but I was too far gone to give a damn.

  “I know that you’re doing that on purpose.” I was using those muscles to give him a unique massage. I was squeezing the daylights out of him rhythmically to excite every inch of his member.

  What I was doing was having a profound side effect which made my body short circuit in pleasure. The electrical charges striking in pulses along my limbs were making him feel the same thing.

  “I can’t stop it and I don’t want to.” Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that my best friend and I would be seducing the youth of America.

  His seed was about to erupt and I grabbed hold of him at the moment it was going to happen. Jessica was not about to be left out and we both milked him dry. The ferocity coming from his loins fired point blank at my clit covering it in his creamy goodness.

  Jessica took matters into her own hands or in this case in her mouth. Her tongue snaked out of her mouth and went after what he had deposited. The heat of his discharge in combination with her tongue flickering along my flesh was enough to send me spiraling into a second and more explosive moment of truth.

  He had fallen to his knees like he was giving praise to Jesus. No words were spoken. He left soon after leaving us to laugh like idiots.

  We still couldn’t believe it really happened. I was tempted to pinch myself, but the evidence of our union was the puffy pink lips of a well-fucked hole.

  We convinced him to move in with us into the very house that I had shared with my husband. We had a custom made bed made for the three of us. We even found time to express our feelings in the office, but that’s another story to be told at another time.

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  TEMPTATION TALES

  Story 67

  I’m not the first nurse in my family. My mom, my sister, my great-grandmother, my great-aunts, my grandmother, my four aunts, my sixteen cousins, and even my sister-in-law are all nurses. We all went to Senoia Community College in our little town to get our Associate Degrees. That’s one upside to living in Senoia, Georgia. It’s a small town in the boondocks, but Senoia residents receive a 75% discount on courses at the community college. It’s a great deal right outside our doorstep.

  Before the community college, the Kane clan were sharecroppers scraping by. When Senoia Community College opened, all the Kane men became mechanics while the Kane women became nurses. Our lives changed for the better. At least, that’s what Great Granny Becky says. I obviously hadn’t been born yet.

  My nursing career path was paved for me before I knew how to walk. I bet many girls would resent that – having to carry on some family legacy that was in place long before, but I don’t. I love being a nurse. In fact, I love it so much I’m going back to school to get my bachelor’s degree. I will be the first Kane kid to get one. After that, I want to get a Masters in Nursing to become an Acute Care Nurse Practitioner. I will be the first Kane kid to do that, too. I hope I start a trend.

  I’m also the first Kane to move out of Senoia. The closest university to get a Bachelors in Nursing is 50 miles away in Macon, home of Mercer University. 50 miles away. Do you understand now why I’m the first Kane to attempt a bachelor’s degree? The means to get one is simply too far away. The Kane clan is comfortable in Senoia.

  When I got into the nursing program at Mercer, I put in my two weeks notice on the Cardiothoracic Intensive Care Unit in Trinity Hospital, the hospital all the Kane nurses have ever worked. With ten years of experience in the ICU, I quickly got a job at Regents Hospital in Macon. It’s my first time away from home without my family ever.

  The Kanes travel together in packs. We work together, vacation together and practically all live together. Our houses are all within a few feet of each other. If you live in Senoia and meet one Kane, you will be able recognize the rest of us. The male Kanes are tall and broad like NFL linebackers while the female Kanes are round and buxom. Thick curvy women. We are a solid people with bodies suited for hard work.

  It’s the first day of my Nursing Research course. A girl with short red hair sits next to me. Her hair and glittery eye shadow make her look like a real life pixie. “You heard about this professor?” she asks me taking a notebook out of her bag.

  “No,” I say. “Have you?”

  She shakes her head and leans into my shoulder. With a hushed voice she says, “Bitch. She’s a nasty nasty bitch.”

  “She can’t be that bad,” I say with a laugh.

  Her eyebrows rise as she says, “I’ve heard stories. She can be.” She looks around the room darting her eyes around surveying the other students. She extends her hand with a flourish and says, “Becca Jones.”

  I take her hand, “Candy Kane.”

  “Candy? Kane?” she asks her eyes twinkling with delight.

  I smile. “Yup.” That’s right. My name is Candy Kane.

  She smiles back and says, “That’s a pretty sweet name,” she says laughing. “Get it? Get it?”

  “Thanks,” I say laughing too.

  The professor, Dr. Knight, storms into the classroom. Her hair, cut short in a white bob, blows back from how quickly she clips to the front of the room. The bustling classroom falls quiet. The clomp of her tan orthopedic shoes stomping onto the floor fills the silence. Dr. Knight looks at the class with glasses perched on her nose.

  “Welcome, class,” she smiles warmly looking us all over, but then her smile falls. “We are all Registered Nurses in this room. Although this is a great accomplishment to be proud of, it does not mean, in any way, that you deserve a Bachelor of Science in Nursing.” She says “deserve” severely annunciating the word carefully and loudly. “If you work hard and prove that you actually deserve a BSN, you will get one. But do not think this is going to be an easy path. Some nurses are incapable of any higher education. These nurses must accept that.”

  Becca nudges my arm. I’m too afraid to look at her.

  "Now, let's go around the room. Introduce yourself: name and what your experience is in nursing."

  Nervous butterflies swarm in my stomach while my classmates introduce themselves one by one. I internally rehearse what I will say that I can't pay attention enough to catch everyone else’s names. When it's Becca’s turn, she says, "Becca Jones. I have six years of experience in Labor and Delivery." Professor Knight nods; her face impassive. It's impossible to determine anything she may be thinking.

  Now, it's my turn. "Candy Kane. I have --"

  Professor Knight interrupts me. "No cute nicknames, please. State your real name."

  "Candy is my real name." The room stirs.

  Her eyes bore into me with incredulity. "I see," she says sharply. "Go on."

  "My name is Candy Kane. I have ten years of ex-"

  "I'm sorry. Miss Kane? I can barely understand you," she says with a haughty laugh.

  I clear my throat. This time I try to project. "My name is Candy Kane. I have ten years of experience --"

  "I'm not deaf, Candy." She says my name, “Candy” with utter disdain. "I simply cannot understand you with that accent of yours."

  I try again slowing down considerably and straining to correct my
aberrant accent. "I have ten years of experience in the CTICU." I look at Dr. Knight for confirmation that she understands what I've said.

  Instead, her eyes shoot to the girl next to me. "Next," she says in a punctuated tone.

  Becca scribbles on the corner of my notebook. "Fuck her." She then squeezes my hand. I feel flush with embarrassment and inexplicable shame. I've never been outside of Senoia without my family who are just like me. We talk alike and look alike. I have never before considered my accent to be that country. It may be too country, it seems.

  The next day, I work dayshift. I'm still in a slump from yesterday's humiliating debacle with Dr. Knight. I spent the night looking up YouTube videos on how to amend my country accent. Trying to fix my annunciation and meter of how I talk is difficult. I wonder how much it really matters anyway.

  I have a tremendous vocabulary as I am an avid reader. I put away, at least, four books a month. My family teases me for always using fifty cent words. I suppose though a country accent influences people, people like Professor Knight, to assume I am uneducated and sloppy. As long as I'm doing my job and taking care of patients well, no one in Senoia ever cared for how I talked. Of course, they all talk like I do anyway.

  I'm hanging up Levophed on my patient in Bed 3, Greg Baker, when a handsome doctor walks in. He smiles at me and then looks over the patient in the bed, who is currently sedated on Propofol. I look at the patient's monitor and notice the Arterial Blood Pressure trending down below a 65 MAP. I bump the Levophed up. The doctor listens to the patient's chest with a stethoscope. I chart in the computer the change in my Levophed titration.

  "I'm Dr. Newton. Charles…" he stumbles over his words. "I’m Dr. Charles. I mean, just, Charles.” He takes a deep breath before saying, “I'm the new CT surgeon on staff."

  "Hi, Dr. Newton. I'm Candy," I say with a smile. He smiles back. He has a really nice smile with bright blue beautiful eyes and a dimple in his right cheek

  "Thank you for taking such great care of my patient," he says pumping the hand sanitizer onto his hands. He awkwardly walks out of the door backwards still smiling at me with a cute goofy look on his face. He then blushes, gives me a little wave, and walks down the hall.

  I shrug off this strange encounter. I look at Mr. Baker, my patient, and say “That was weird.” My patient can’t talk back to me, since he is sedated and intubated, but I like to talk to my patients as if they are awake. Patients sedated may still be able to hear us so I talk to them just in case they do.

  I break open a mouth cleaning packet. Diligent mouth care every two hours with a Chlorhexidine antiseptic mouth rinse has led to a 20% decrease in Ventilator Associated Pneumonia. I suction and clean my Mr. Baker’s mouth with the Chlorhexidine swab and Yankauer suction. I say to Mr. Baker, “Dr. Newton is really cute though.”

  On my way to the med room, I pass by Dr. Powell. Seeing him used to be horrifically painful, but it's been a few weeks now, and the sting has somewhat subsided. Somewhat. Not really. One night after a shift, some of the ICU nurses and CT docs went out for drinks. We had a rough day with five new admissions and two simultaneous Code Blues short-staffed by two nurses. I had just started at Regent Hospital and had only been working for a couple of weeks.

  Intensive Care nurses are the heaviest drinkers. The more stress the more we drink. We drank a lot that night. The docs bought rounds and rounds of shots. I simply cannot turn away a free drink.

  Dr. Powell, Grant, came on to me strong out of nowhere. I'd never been pursued so fiercely before like that in my life. I slipped away from my bar stool and walked to the bathroom. Suddenly, as I turned the knob of the bathroom door, Grant was behind me. He leaned down, his lips on my ear, grabbing my ass and whispering, “I love a girl with a nice big ass.” He pressed his hard cock into my back.

  I stumbled into the bathroom. He followed me right in. He picked me up and placed me on the edge of the sink lifting up my shirt and tearing my breasts out of my bra. He licked and bit them mumbling into my warm flesh, “I love big titties.” He sucked hard on a nipple making a loud popping sound when he pulled his mouth away.

  After work that day, I ran home to shower and change into a skirt. Grant’s large hands snaked their way up between my bare legs. Kissing me hard, he murmured, “Nice thick thighs,” as his hands squeezed my legs. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since I saw you.” He pulled my panties down my trembling legs.

  “What? That can’t be true,” I said.

  He pulled down his pants and boxers. “Oh yes. It’s true.” He took his thick cock and pushed it inside my wet pussy. I gasped at the sudden heavy pressure. He heaved into me, holding firmly onto my ass. He stared at my jiggling tits as he thrust. “Oh. You’ve got big fat nipples. I love it. Play with them.”

  I’ve never been asked to do something like that before, but I was a little drunk from the Tequila shots. I pinched my nipple with my fingers making them hard and erect. The sensation of tweaking my own nipples was exhilarating. I kept doing it. Grant thrust harder. He said, “Suck on your tits.”

  I was enticed by this request. I felt foolish at first, but I took both of my breasts and lifted them to my mouth. I stuck my tongue out and licked. Grant grunted in appreciation. “Mmm. I like that.”

  I took an entire nipple into my mouth and flicked my tongue on it. I felt dirty doing it, but my pussy trembled with excitement. I sucked harder. “Look at me when you do that,” Grant said out of breath.

  I sucked on my nipple looking at him. He plunged into my deeper. I continued to suck one nipple while pinching the other. My body felt on fire. My cunt then trembled violently, and I came moaning loudly. Grant watched me come. He pushed his cock harder and harder into me until he pulled out and squirted cum on my leg. It felt warm and sensual as it oozed down my skin.

  Grant's infatuation with me and my big tits and ass was short-lived. For a couple of weeks, we fucked all the time. I grew accustomed to fondling myself in front of him and craved the lusty look he gave me when I did. He made me repeat naughty words and phrases that I would never have dreamed saying even alone.

  One night after spurting a large load of cum on my face and breasts, Grant and I cuddled in bed. What he said next blindsided me. “I like you, Candy. I think we’ve had a lot of fun,” My heart drops. I’ve had this talk before. He continued, “But, I’m just at a difficult time right now in my life. I’m too busy for anything serious. My career is not at a place where I can be anyone’s steady boyfriend.”

  He gave my shoulder a squeeze saying, “You deserve better. I hate doing this, but I think it would be best if we were just friends. Because…” His voice trailed off. “Because, I’m getting too attached. And I need to focus on my practice right now.”

  His eyes welled up a bit. I was so touched by his candor. I wiped away a few tears of my own.

  Seeing him in the hospital now, it’s as if not one of those nights really happened.

  “Hey,” Grant says to me casually as he walks by.

  “Hi,” I say and quickly walk into the med room.

  That’s the extent of our friendly banter these days. Sally is at the Pyxsis taking out meds. “Was that Dr. Powell you were talking to?” she says rolling her eyes.

  “Ya. He’s out there.”

  She turns back to the Pyxsis screen. “Girl, you know what I heard. He’s already hunting the new girl. She only been here three days.”

  My necks prickles with sweat. “What?”

  She closes the Pyxsis drawer and turns to me. “He is an ass. We should have warned you about him.”

  I’m mortified. I fight the tears springing in my eyes. Sally gives me a hug. “These doctors… surgeons ‘specially. They run through the young nurses. Don’t mind him. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  I think about that night when he broke it off with me. He looked so genuine. I am such a stupid fool.

  The next day, I’m off of work. I spend the majority of the day working on a paper for Dr. Knight. There is no time to wallow
in tears for Grant. I only really knew him for a few weeks, and much less than that was the amount of time we spent together. It’s slightly embarrassing, but whatever. I came to Macon to get my BSN.

  Dr. Knight’s assignment is to write about a personal clinical experience where you demonstrated evidenced based practices. I was head of the Nursing Research Department back at Trinity Hospital in Senoia. Our nursing group played a big part in Trinity getting Magnet status.

  Magnet Recognition is a big deal. Only 8% of hospitals in the United States get Magnet Status. It is a symbol of nursing excellence and high-quality patient care. As head of Nursing Research, I collected data on our sepsis rates and pushed for the Critical Care doctors to adopt the newest international guidelines. With the new sepsis guidelines in place, I collected data on our mortality rates. They improved by 2%!