The Big Book of Orgasms

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  “You know it’s in my control, don’t you, Randall?” she asked. “When you come, how you come. How hard you come.”

  The words were whispers coming from Button, but Randall could only nod in answer.

  “I only hope you don’t have anywhere else to be because I could stand here and do this all day,” Button continued.

  “Well…” Randall started.

  Button twisted and pulled on Randall’s stiff, velvety cock. She whispered hoarsely in his ear. “Is it Simone?”

  “She’ll be waiting on me later.”

  Button nibbled on his neck, then bit down hard. “And are you…coming…to her?”

  Randall clenched his eyes shut tight. He nodded his head.

  “I want to hear you say the fucking words. I want to hear you say you’re coming.”

  “I am coming, Button. I promised her.”

  Button massaged harder. She squeezed the head of Randall’s cock with her fingers, triggering something in Randall that made him rise up off the bench.

  “Remember, baby, I’m the one in control. You come when I say so,” she said.

  Randall was alternating between licking and biting his lips. He was breathing heavy through his nose.

  “Button…” he grunted.

  “I know you want to,” Button teased, and she eased off, stroking lightly now instead.

  “I’m so close.”

  Button tightened her grip again and Randall swelled even greater, his cock growing harder in her small hands. She teased his balls with the tips of her fingers until she felt his inner thighs vibrate. Randall’s head fell forward on her shoulder.

  “Come on, Randy,” Button said. “Feel free.”

  And Randall came, spilling hot into her hands.

  Gaining his bearings, Randall handed Button a stained handkerchief from his pants pocket and Button slowly wiped her palms, her head cocked.

  They sat in the park, silent, until it was dark. Button leaned into Randall and nudged him.

  “Simone’s waiting, I’m sure,” she said.

  And Randall sighed and said, “She’ll realize soon enough that I’m not coming.”

  REMOTE CONTROL

  Logan Zachary

  It’s my birthday, and you bought me a remote control? Why not a blender? A toaster? Wait, better yet, why not a vacuum cleaner? They say the same thing.” Jessica’s eyes welled with tears.

  “But honey,” Simon said. “Didn’t you read the label? The New Ultimate Remote. It can do anything.”

  “I never get to pick what we watch.”

  “This remote can change things. Let me show you.” He ripped open the package. “Watch this.” He pointed out the front window. The snow disappeared. Green grass covered the lawn, and the summer sun beat through the glass.

  Jess’s mouth opened wide. “How did you do that?”

  He showed her the SUMMER and WINTER buttons.

  “Let me see that.” She grabbed for the remote.

  “Watch this.” He aimed it at his head. His brown hair turned blond instantly. His hair grew down to touch his shoulders. He smiled and his hair retracted to a crew cut. “You’ll never have to go to the salon again.”

  She took the new remote. “And it’ll do whatever I program?”

  “Anything.”

  “What if I were a man?” She pointed the beam at herself. Her breasts flattened and firmed into muscle. Hair sprouted across her massive torso, tickling as it covered her with a thick brown pelt. She felt a stirring between her thighs. She pulled open her sweatpants and watched her smooth mound of sensitive nerves inflate like a long balloon.

  Her fine pubic hair thickened and turned coarse. Two weighted orbs descended from inside her and emerged as firm hairy masses. Her smoothly shaved legs darkened and turned fuzzy. Her hourglass curves bulked into square ridges.

  “Check this out!” She flashed him her new organ. It stood straight out, erect and pulsating with each beat of her heart.

  “It’s bigger than mine.”

  “So guys have penis envy, too.” She aimed the remote at his groin.

  Simon felt his penis descend along the inside of his leg and thicken as it snaked downward. Instinctively, he rubbed himself and was amazed at what he felt. “That’s all me?” He swallowed hard. He had been blessed before, but this was obscene, even for him.

  “Let me see.” Jessica stepped forward and pulled on his boxers. Her hand reached in and caressed his shaft. She felt it stir. She rubbed up and down the entire length. Her fingers could barely wrap around its girth, and it was growing.

  “That feels so good,” Simon said, enjoying her touch as his member reached its maximum length. He could sense wetness escaping at the tip, lubricating her hand.

  Jessica stepped closer and kissed him. Her hand continued working his shaft as her tongue entered his mouth. She pulled his lower lip into her mouth and gently nibbled. She could taste his strong manly taste.

  Simon moaned with pleasure, enjoying the new sensation, and then stopped. Something was different. He opened his eyes and gasped. He stepped back suddenly, almost pulling his dick off in her hand, or as he saw it, in his hand.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked in a baritone voice. The deep vibrations of her vocal cords tickled her throat. She tried to recognize her own voice, but it was a man’s. She looked into the mirror on the living room wall.

  Sun baked in from outside, as Simon stood in front of a football player, who had a raging hard-on straining against the front of his sweatpants. It took Jessica a few seconds to realize that she was the linebacker. She smiled inside, but he smiled back at her in the mirror. “Man, am I gorgeous.” She pulled her sweatshirt over her head. Her sculpted chest and abs were furry and perfect. “Come here, Simon, and give me a kiss.”

  Simon’s erection started to shrink, as he stepped backward and held up his hands.

  “Oh, come on, honey,” she said. “You’ve never…”

  “No way.”

  “What if,” she pointed the remote at him, “you were a woman?”

  “No!” he screamed, but it was too late. The beam shot out of the remote, and his body seemed to melt. His muscle mass shrank and softened. Square corners smoothed to sensuous curves. The hair across his body sucked inside like spaghetti. His waist narrowed and his boxers slid to the floor. His shrinking erection continued internally, reforming as it retracted.

  His crew cut flowed into a blonde cascade down to his shoulders, as his razor stubble disappeared. His scream raised several octaves as his throat narrowed and tightened. His hands grabbed his chest, which swelled and blossomed under his touch. Two voluptuous orbs grew and increased in sensitivity. Simon could feel the tenderness increase as his nipples hardened and rose up erect. In the mirror, he saw the perfect woman, looking back at him with his own eyes.

  Sun shone through the window on their new naked bodies. Simon stepped into Jessica’s arms. Her hairy body tickled his soft skin, and goose bumps arose across his body. Moist heat burned between his legs. He rubbed his hand over his new organ of pleasure. “So this is what it feels like to be a woman.”

  Jessica grabbed her penis, stroking it against Simon’s thigh. “I guess it does have a mind of its own.”

  Desire rose as their bodies accepted the changes. “Kiss me.”

  Jessica’s mouth came down on his. She drew him into her mouth, tasting cherry. Her thicker tongue hungered for more.

  Simon’s delicate tongue sought out the damp heat and was sucked into Jessica’s mouth. His neck tipped back as Jessica’s tongue trailed down his neck, licking, working to his nipples. He tensed as her teeth caught one bud and rolled it. Her tongue teased the erect flesh. Never had he imagined the pleasure such a simple act could evoke.

  Jessica knew, and Simon would remember forever. The urge to thrust into him started at the base of her spine, driving her pelvis forward. Her erect cock sought entry into Simon. She ran her glans up and down Simon’s folds.

  He welcomed the pressure
. A hollow ache needed to be filled. He wanted to know what he did to her. He wanted to feel what she felt. “Go slow,” he said.

  She found the spot and slowly entered him, filling him.

  His body welcomed her, drawing her in deeper than he thought possible. They looked into each other’s eyes as Jessica pulled out.

  Simon pressed forward. Starting slowly, they increased their pace until Jessica’s body slammed against his. A musky, intoxicating aroma arose.

  Waves of pleasure soared across them. Tension mounted, as it sought release.

  She fell into him, feeling the sun’s rays on her back. She increased her rhythm, curled her toes and plunged deeper.

  Simon’s body matched hers stroke for stroke. Kissing turned to biting, as the ecstasy threatened to consume them.

  Her body shuddered as it expelled an eruption of electricity into Simon. She felt his body pulsate underneath, welcoming and matching the release, absorbing the multiple waves of pleasure.

  They collapsed against each other, trying to catch their breaths. As their heart rates slowed, the same thought came to their minds. What would happen if…? They dove for the remote at the same time.

  WEATHERING THE STORM

  Salome Wilde

  You just need to get back on the horse,” Jen said with a grin, followed by an enormous bite of her ham sandwich.

  Evie shrugged and looked out the window at the darkening sky. Jen was her favorite office mate and meant well, but neither the message nor the metaphor satisfied. Of course, horses were better than fish, as in the “plenty more in the sea” line her mother kept dangling in her still-too-frequent phone calls. True, she’d remained dateless in the almost six months since Marcus had left her for the job at the Weather Channel, ruining not only her plans for happily ever after but messing with her former pleasure in all things barometrical. How many times had he practiced his forecasts for the local news with her as a devoted audience of one? How dedicatedly had she learned at his side about tornadoes and hurricanes, earthquakes and tsunamis, so they’d be ready when he got the call? She’d learned to love the weather, and then, when the call came, Marcus had taken it, and taken off.

  Though the pain of abandonment still haunted her, Evie was on the right path now. Neither dating services nor advice from well-meaning friends and family was the solution. Reclaiming her pleasure was the answer to weathering this heart-storm, she was increasingly certain. She smiled and nodded at whatever Jen said, watching the clouds close in. It was only unfortunate the details of her healing method just weren’t something she could share.

  Lying on her back in the dark of her bedroom, legs spread wide beneath a plush comforter, Evie pressed the vibrator gently beside her clit with one hand and tuned in to the local weather forecast with the remote in the other. Though it was taking its time arriving, the storm was going to be enormous. The wide slash of heavy rain and wind over her neighborhood was slated for 12:24 a.m., then moved to 12:36, then to 12:49. She followed the report on the channel she never used to watch because it was in competition with Marcus’s, while she teased herself. She removed the vibe, then pressed it down again, enjoying little flashes of pleasure as the screen filled with tiny zigzags representing lightning bolts, spreading across the widening red-orange band of heavy thundershowers one county to the west. When the image switched to a clip of intense winds blowing down a huge tree, she took the opportunity to grind her ass into her bed to make sure the anal plug was in deep enough to stay put.

  She felt the rumble of thunder, far off, and shuddered. She couldn’t yet see the lightning out her window, but the wind was picking up. It rushed through the trees, making the leaves shimmer and dance. She sighed in harmony, her body awash with pleasure, climax looming. She had to stop; she knew she’d come too soon if she didn’t pace herself.

  Keeping her eyes from blurring with arousal was one way to concentrate against the rising gale inside her. She fought the swelling of her labia by focusing intently on the reporter’s discussion of the difference between a tornado watch and a tornado warning. The material was too basic and his voice was monotone, but it sufficed. She battled the wetness that trailed from her slick pussy to her plugged ass by attending to the intricacies of the map on the screen, its little rotating circles of color indicating that circumstances were likely for a tornado. But her clit was humming and the vibrations were moving through her entire body. It was impossible to concentrate on anything else: she was ripe for the deluge.

  She was nearly to the point of giving in—muscles clenched, pussy engorged, breath held—then crash! A flash of lightning was followed by an exploding clap of thunder so loud it made her scream. The perfect time for orgasm, for shattering and releasing with the wild and uncontrollable storm.

  But Evie hadn’t come. She’d clamped her legs shut, letting go of the vibe and losing it between her legs when she’d screamed. She laughed at herself. This was part of the fun. Reaching for her toy and peeking out the window, she saw the storm hadn’t yet come either. Just a prelude. She lay back and turned up the volume on the TV. A flash flood warning had been announced. It was going to be so big. She fingered the anal plug then brought the vibrator back to her clit.

  Changing to another local channel, she watched a familiar, perky female forecaster explain how winds colliding from multiple directions and at multiple speeds were worrying for several counties. The lists of neighborhoods and times flashed on the screen, and there was hers: not 12:49 now but 12:41—just two minutes away. The announcer advised her to get to a place of safety. She shivered, though she wasn’t worried. She’d been through this many delicious times now. She might get scared witless, but she wouldn’t get scared climax-less. Dropping the remote and switching the vibe from left hand to right, she reached for the dildo. Already lubed as part of her storm prep, she slipped the slick shaft inside, listening to the wind increasing. Pussy and ass now deliciously full, clit swelling again, she waited for the next thunderbolt.

  As she grew closer to release, the storm finally hit: a tremendous sheet of water so heavy it drowned out the sound of both television and vibrator. She humped into the dildo while the buzzing vibe continued to tease her until she was panting. A streak of lightning flashed bold and white through the sky, lighting up her room, and her body swelled, every inch of her filled yet open wide to receive the eruption. She held her breath and fucked herself harder, knowing the thunder couldn’t be far off.

  “You’re really getting it hard in Silver Springs,” the announcer proclaimed, and Evie moaned in agreement.

  When the thunder came, so did Evie. Her body was wracked with ecstasy. She shattered as the rumbling peaked and ebbed both within and without, the power in her apartment flickering and dying. She cried out with pleasure until she was hoarse.

  There was no denying it: nothing healed like nature.

  HELLFIRE

  Valerie Alexander

  I know you,” he said. “I saw you at the Fetish Ball. You came to my Hellfire party after.”

  It’s never a good sign when a man’s opening words are a lie. Or in this case, a half lie. I had been at the big public Fetish Ball. I most certainly hadn’t been at this guy’s Hellfire Club after-party. As a sexual dominant, the last thing I would do is dress up like a giggling nun and submit to a bunch of men dressed as monks. Not to mention, as theme parties went, the Hellfire Club was a bit played out.

  But when I turned around, my liar was handsome. Tall, fair, gorgeous mouth, hooded eyes languorous with his own self-assurance. So I decided to have some fun.

  “Sir Francis Dashwood, I presume,” I said and extended my hand with a smile. As if I found his bullshit disarming.

  He laughed with delight. “I’m impressed. But you can call me Dash.”

  Dash. How cute. I recognized him as a major player in our local scene; he gave a lot of parties and trained a lot of subs. No doubt he was in demand, because many of the local doms weren’t that attractive, whereas he was a tall, roguish drink of wa
ter. Which meant he probably liked a challenge, which meant he probably found me a worthy contender, since he’d noticed me at the Fetish Ball and now had taken the trouble to game me.

  But he also probably thought he could outfox me, since he was surprised I knew who had founded the Hellfire Club.

  I brushed my red hair out of my eyes. “I know who you are. But I wasn’t at your Hellfire party.”

  “Too bad. You would have made a beautiful nun.”

  “I’m told I make a beautiful domme.”

  He laughed again. Yes, he enjoyed the sport. “How about we split the difference and call you a beautiful switch?”

  I smiled at him. “You first.”

  “I don’t do that,” he said just as easily. “But hey, you should come to my next party.” He took my phone from me and began punching in his information. “It’s this weekend. No special theme, just a play party. You won’t have to serve any monks unless you want to.”

  There were girls stripping, showing off, everywhere at the party. They were kissing on the sofa and gyrating by the stereo, competing for the attentions of men I simply could not find attractive. I remembered why I rarely went to play parties. This wasn’t one of those events stiff with titles and protocol, everyone a Lady So-and-So and Master Such-and-Such. But the stone-faced men all seemed thuggish and surly, and all of the women seemed submissive, and the only “scenes” were a blow job going on in the kitchen and what looked like a gang bang in one bedroom, a thin body on the bed lost under hairier bodies straddling her head and hips. In short, the party was everything I found repellent in BDSM. I liked my men kneeling at my feet, cocks hard and thighs flexed, bodies trembling with the desire to serve and adore and fuck me any way I demanded.

  I’d been a fool to think Dash and I could work out, even as a quick tumble.