never, not once, ever thought that it would actually happen.Until it did.And now I can’t get it out of my mind.I’m a chauffeur, and the majority of my work is driving wedding cars. You know, taking the bride and her wedding party to church. Then taking the newly- weds to their wedding reception and sometimes, later, on to the airport or a hotel.So you can hardly blame me for having weddings on the brain. As a bloke, though, it’s not the wedding itself that I think about. I don’t get all gooey and gushy over the church, the rings, the flowers, the cake. That would be weird.It’s the bride that occupies my thoughts. Now, beforeyou think I’m some kind of creepy pervert, let me explain. It’s not like that. I don’t paw at the brides that ride in my car, flirt, or make inappropriate comments. In fact, I don’t do anything that would make them uncomfort- able. I am the epitome of professionalism and respect- ability at all times.Until they get out of the car and go on their way, t
I’d just swallowed the last sip of my margarita when I felt the vibration of my phone in my purse. I pulled it out to read the text: Seven o’clock—and don’t forget your hairbrush. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly feeling dry. Glancing at the time, I became filled with panic. It was twenty minutes till seven, and I was with coworkers at a bar a few blocks from the office, celebrating the closure of a very lucrative contract for our agency. There was no way I’d be able to make it back home and then to Jason’s place in time. I’d been expecting to hear from him the following evening, having spent the week dreaming about the sinful pleasures he’d promised me upon his return. But he’d gone and surprised me, first by showing up early, and second by giving me an impossible task. I offered a hasty good-bye to my staff, hoping they’d blame the liquor for my flushed cheeks. But I could feel the heat in my face, embarrassed because I was rushing off to have my bottom bared and spanked by the one
Okay, you can look now.”Nathan did as he was told, opening his eyes andtaking in the sight of his boyfriend. He felt his breath catch in his throat, and his fingers dug into the edge of the bed where he was sitting. Across the room, Tony stood by the door, looking like he was about to bolt with one wrong word.He was beautiful, that was Nathan’s first thought. When Tony had promised him a surprise for his birthday, he never imagined this. But there was Tony, in a red silk dress that was pulling across his chest and emphasizing hard muscles instead of the cleavage it was designed for. The fabric held no pattern, no ornate stitching or lace to make it stand out as anything special. It bunched tighter at the waist, giving the illusion of curves that Tony didn’tpossess, and then flared out before it stopped midthigh on his smooth legs.“Holy fuck, you shaved, too?” Nathan asked, his breath speeding up to keep time with his racing heart rate.Tony shifted his legs, and Nathan could
Oh, am I early?” Lorraine looked around the confer- ence room. “I was afraid I was a little late.”“No, you are a little late,” said Dr. Melling cheer- fully. “But only a little.”After being a junior colleague of Dina’s for two years, Lorraine didn’t know why she still had a tendency to think of her as “Dr. Melling”—especially since the department favored professor over doctor on the rare occasions that they bothered with formality. Maybe it was the warm but penetrating character of Dina’s eyes, as seen through those adorably round-and-tiny glasses. Dr. Melling, always shining through these glasses, had a confidence-inspiring presence—at the same time, para- doxically, as Lorraine’s lust for her inevitably made the assistant professor a self-conscious, neurotic mess.“How are you tonight?”“Not bad,” Lorraine replied. Settling into her seat, she then added a “How about you?”—but she was conscious of having waited an instant too long to say it, thus intro- ducing a moment of awkwar
I did it again today. I visited my girlfriend at work. Reprobate writer seeks innocent Melanie for backseat naughtiness in underground parking lot. Yes, I’ve been wicked again. Spank me, Jesus. Before this gets too confusing, what with “blow jobs” in the title, let me clarify: I’m a woman, Mela- nie’s a woman—we’re a lesbian couple—but while I’m a woman with a pussy, my girlfriend’s a woman with a cock. She’s trans, hence the mention of blow jobs. So that’s one mystery solved. Melanie didn’t always let me at her nether regions— in fact, there was a time not long ago when she assured me we would never have the kind of sex that involved a pussy and a cock, or a mouth and a cock, or pretty much anything else and a cock—but luckily we’ve matured as a couple. And with maturity comes backseat blow jobs. I love sucking my girlfriend off, and I don’t care how sleazy or sordid that sounds. The moment my tongue touches the slick satin flesh of her tip, I just flood my panties with juice. It’
Not that I’m complaining or anything, but what are you up to?”Tabitha raised her gaze to meet Duke’s, but she could hardly be expected to answer, at least not while his cock was sliding over her tongue.She should have known it wouldn’t take him long to figure out something was up. It wasn’t often she brought him a home-cooked meal. It wasn’t often she bought him the expensive rum. It wasn’t often she put on the really slutty underwear and blew him before dessert.“Tabs?”She made a small sucking sound and lifted one shoulder.Duke didn’t look convinced. Blissful, yes, but skep- tical. “Did you put a dent in my car when you werepulling out of your driveway?”“Nggh-nnn,” was her only possible response. She closed her eyes, grasped his shaft and closed her lips around the circumference. He pushed against the floor with a grunt. His ass came up from the cushion and his dick went deeper into her throat.True, she was after something, but it’s not like she didn’t enjoy being in th
Everything came clattering down as it would in the movies. Shampoos and shower gels got knocked for six, a bar of soap slithered to our feet, a razor scooted down the side of the tub. He fucked me from behind, water splashing between us. Struggling for balance, I bashed a tap. The temperature shot up, making us shriek. That might have got a laugh from an audience. I turned the tap down. Too cold. Up again, better. I flailed for something to hold, grabbed the shower curtain then thought again because curtains cost money and anyway it wouldn’t have worked except as a metaphor for reck- less passion. So I braced myself as best I could, one hand on the slippery tiles, another on the tub edge. Steam enshrouded us carrying scents of cosmetics, visions of vanilla chiffon. Pale streaks of foam spiraled into the drain and vanished. His hands dug into my hips. In the midst of the vapor and wetness, his cock shored me up, enormous and substantial where I was soft and hidden. They wouldn’t sho
Gina sat in her bed and tried to read High Window. She’d devoured the novel many times before, but familiarity didn’t stop her from rereading her favorite works. Tonight, however, the words blurred in front of her eyes. She could only see the man in the store—his name was Andrew Martin. He’d written that on the bookmark. She toyed with the slim piece of stiff bluepaper. Should she call him? What would she say?She reached for the phone. Put it down. Picked it up.She dialed the number, then almost slammed the phone down again when she heard his voice: “Hello?”Her first word came out as a husky whisper, “Hello,” as if she were auditioning for a part as a 1-800-porn actress.“Hello?” he said again, and she cleared her throatand said, “I’m the girl…” but then she didn’t know what to put after that. The girl who masturbated in your store. Jesus, Gina, get a grip. She was a second from disconnecting the line when he said, “Don’t hang up. I’ve been waiting for your call.”She swall
I have about an hour to kill before I can go back to Eva. Walking this town from end to end would take all of ten minutes. I pause at the wine-tasting room, but there are too many tourists inside. Besides I’ll have to make the usual inane chitchat with one of the hospi- tality staff. “Is this your first visit to the Wine Country?” she’ll say, chipper as a Girl Scout. “Actually, my wife and I come up from San Francisco a few times a year, but not for the wine. We like to play our kinky Dom-sub sex game in your local country inn. Would you care to join us tonight?” I smile as I continue on down the street. If only it were that easy. Of course, bringing back another woman might be pushing Eva a little too far. This time. I pass a quaint tavern—everything is quaint here— and peek inside. Dim lighting, a few customers perched at the bar. Perfect. I take a table in a shadowy corner and order a glass of Frank Family Cabernet. You can’t get that by the glass in the city. The wine is deli
There’s an indeterminate span of time between asleep and awake. Those bleary moments, waves of thought washing over us as we struggle to gain or lose conscious- ness. Where dreams blur with reality, taking on aspectsand influence from each other.The shriek of an alarm clock is translated into the cries of some prehistoric flying creature chasing us through Elysian Fields. The scent of bacon spurs a vivid scenario of gorging ourselves on anything and every- thing within sight.The slow, rhythmic thrusts of a cock between swollen labia elicits dreams of multiple members in multiple orifices.This is how I awaken; gradually, with the dawning realization that at least one turgid member from myreveries is truly flesh and blood. Sliding between my thighs from behind as I lie on my side, body curled into the blankets surrounding me. A hand, presumably accompanying the penis in its adventures, is trailing feather soft over the curve of my breasts, fingers occa- sionally tweaking my nip
Let me tie you up?” he asked me, holding up the ropes so I could see them. At first I couldn’t take my eyes off them; they were slim and white and gorgeous. They were looped over one another and tied off beautifully in lengths with colored ends, so he could keep the lengths separate. I must have stared at those ropes in his hand for half a minute before I brought my eyes back to his and saw the wicked joy in them. Peter’s smile broadened to a grin. His blue eyes brightened. He knew he had me. He was fully dressed, and I was naked—very, very naked. I’d just gotten out of the shower, and I’d been thinking about him in there—thinking about what we might do when I got out of the shower and Peter took me to bed. I was already very turned on. He could see everything he wanted to see, I real- ized—in exquisite detail never before revealed. I’d just shaved, so he could see my sex. He could see the hot flush of arousal through my breasts and my face, see the stiffening of my nipples that
Ten more minutes, I thought, glancing around the carnival. Ten minutes and then I can get out of this nightmare and go for a drink. I hauled one of the milk cartons up in front of me, and began stacking the plastic rings from the Ring Toss. This was the last year I’d volunteered for the games. Next year, I’ll sell tickets or something that doesn’t involve snotty kids screaming because they didn’t win a plastic frog. The sky was several shades of amber in the wake of the setting sun. I loved summer. And despite the disaster of this year’s Ring Toss, I always looked forward to the annual Shriners Carnival. I always volunteered. The money went toward revitalizing the parks and play- grounds in the area, places I used to go to when I was a child. Every year held surprises, from the old friends who came back for the night, to the local celebrities who turned up in support. Last year, we had an Emmy Award winner perform an impromptu concert. This year, my surprise was the very reason I ne
It’s not much fun giving a blow job,” Taryn remarks over the noisy gush of heat hitting my hair. “AlthoughI think every lesbian feels that way, don’t you?”“Only if they can speak from experience,” I reply, wincing as Taryn continues to torture my tresses. Taryn winces, too—for an entirely different reason. “And I seri- ously doubt that the judges are going to inquire about my sex life, oral or otherwise, during the interview.”“Agreed.” She puts down the blow-dryer and picks up a hairbrush. “A better question would be: why did you get involved in beauty pageants?”I smirk. The answer is out of the question. I got involved in beauty pageants because I wanted to meet girls. I could care less about the sash or the cash or the crown that glitters like a dinner plate in an advertisementfor dishwashing soap. That doesn’t mean I don’t take pageantry seriously. It just means that I’m not in it to win it.I used to think pageants were sideshows, populated with aspiring anchorwomen who
Ihate being here.I hate sleeping in this bed, Clark’s marriage bed,sleeping on his wife’s side while she’s away on business and waking up face-to-face with the knickknacks and nail polish on her bedside table.And the baby oil! Why wouldn’t Clark have put that away before I came? Why the hell would I want to be reminded that he has sex with her too? More puzzlingly, why do I jump at every opportunity to stay the night?Well, that question has an easy answer: it’s the wake- up call that keeps me coming back. It’s his arms circling my body before the sun comes up, when I’m still warm with sleep. He kisses my shoulder, walks his fingers down my belly, and I’m sold. I’ll put up with any amount of heartache if it means getting fucked first thing in themorning.My pussy’s never wet when he finds it, so Clark burrows under the covers to turn me on in the most effi- cient way possible. Spreading my legs, he situates himself between them and dives at the apex of my thighs. I don’t know
Jason left for work the same way he always did, but instead of following his normal routine he came home two hours later and slipped back into the house.Sneaking through his own house like a criminal felt absurd, but he did it anyway.When his best friend told him he thought their wives were more than just friends Jason hadn’t believed it. Things like that didn’t happen in real life. So when Rose told him that Miranda was coming over that day to help her in the garden he knew what he had to do.As he creeps upstairs, he hears soft voices and sees that the bedroom door has been left ajar. He leans forward until he can see into the room. And there they are, Rose and Miranda together in bed.Jason watches them. He can’t help but appreciate how beautiful Rose is like this, her head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open. Sure, he’s seen her like this before, but it’s not the same when he’s the one moving above her, when he’s focused on what he’s doing, what he’s feeling.Now he can j
Renata climbs the stairs from the dungeon, brushes aside the leather curtain, and looks around. Tonight she doesn’t need a fancy station. She only needs a quietcorner and a chair. This room will do nicely.She takes a seat against the wall. Like a lioness crouched by a watering hole, she watches the snack table across the room. People come, people go. Then her patience pays off. Vicki’s red latex minidress and stiletto ankle boots identify her. She’s trying to drink a Coke with one hand while holding a chocolate-chip cookie with the other. It’s awkward with the cuffs. Renata strides over and presses herself against Vicki’s back.“When’s your break over?” “Now.” Vicki lowers her snack. “Good. Keep the cookie.”A hand on Vicki’s biceps, Renata propels her across the room. Vicki’s ass and boobs jiggle under the low-cut latex. The ankle cuffs mean she has to shuffle quickly to keep up. By the time they get to Renata’s chair, Vicki’s breathing hard.Renata drops Vicki’s arm and sits,
He was young and his cock was as hard as a steel rod. No foreplay was necessary. He took off his clothes and, bang: hard and ready. Not like your sad, little caged protuberance. I can’t imagine you were ever like that, were you?” She shook her head in mock sadness as she gazed at Bob. He knelt, naked, with the exception of the chastity device affixed to his cock andballs. He yawned, silently. “Does this bore you?”“Sorry, Ma’am.” It wasn’t so much that it was boring, it was that it was just stories. He needed more.“And then today, at lunch, I seduced a UPS guy. All tan and muscles, he looked great in his uniform shorts but he looked even better out of them. Nine-inch cock, at a minimum. Straight and thick. And boy could he eat.Someone had trained that boy well. I had three orgasms before we even got to the actual fucking. I thought about you—stuck here, cleaning the bathroom or the kitchen or whatever it was you were doing.”“Look, Barbara,” Bob stood up. “I just don’t think th