Obey

He was the first person I saw when I walked into the party. It had been over five years since I’d seen him last, but when he touched my hand one word ran through my head: obey.

I instinctively thrust my left hand behind my back as I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. We talked for almost an hour and I almost didn’t notice the first time he commanded me.  It was mundane and simple, but when he told me to show him my bracelet I didn’t hesitate.  Ten minutes later he leaned in and whispered to me.

“Make me another drink.”

His words ran straight from my ears to my clit and I got up immediately.  I was completely focused as I walked to the kitchen and for four minutes nothing seemed more important than making the perfect gin and tonic.

There were a few other simple commands until he knew I was not only willing but unable to say no. When he told me to walk to the back bedroom and kneel by the bed I simply nodded and did as I was told.

It seemed like hours until I heard the door close and lock behind me.  He circled me twice and I was terrified that he wouldn’t like the look of me.  Had I gotten too old?  Were my clothes unappealing?  When he finally stood in front of me it took a force of will to not reach up and open his jeans before he asked.  When he finally gave the command my fingers were shaking.

I placed my hands back in my lap (like a good girl, I thought) and looked up into his eyes.  I opened my mouth and leaned in, taking him slowly between my lips and running my tongue over his perfect cock.  My wedding ring felt heavy on my finger and as I took him deep into my mouth and throat I gently pulled off the ring and slid it into my pocket.

For two minutes I didn’t think he’d noticed. After twenty minutes of using my mouth, I was positive he had. The command came quickly and without warning.

“Stand, turn, and put your hands on the frame of the bed.”

I did as I was told and moments later felt the cool air of the room against my bare skin as he slid my clothes down to the floor.  I could feel his cock pressed against me and I closed my eyes as I waited for him.

“How long have you been married?”

I clenched my teeth and my eyes as I let out a whimper.  He was pressing into me, first with his fingers, and then the head of his cock and I tried to speak.

“Three years,” I finally said.

It felt like an eternity waiting for him, but when he finally slid inside me I came.  Just like that.  I screamed and moaned and thrust my hips back against him and he fucked me harder than I thought possible.   When he was ready to cum he had me turn and kneel in front of him.  He pulled my shirt down and had me beg for him.  I looked ridiculous kneeling there on the floor, and I begged and begged until he covered my breasts and chin.

I stayed there on the floor as he buttoned his pants and washed his face in the bathroom.  I didn’t move a muscle as he sat on the bed and tied his shoes and I simply closed my eyes when he leaned over and kissed me long and hard.  He dressed me himself, taking care with everything. He was tender and gentle and I was pained and relieved that it was all over.

As we walked back to the party he took me by the hand and kissed it gently. Just before we got swallowed by the crowd he whispered to me again.

“In exactly one hour, I expect you to be back in the bedroom wearing nothing but your heels.  Leave the door unlocked.”

In Full Disclosure

Sexy woman lying on her back on a bed.

“We finally stopped using condoms,” she said like she was telling me what time it was.

“Do you like it?” I asked, leaning back on the couch. We had been dating for a few months, but the guy she was dating for nearly a year now tended to get the bigger perks. I mean, it’s not a competition or anything, but there you have it. Perks.

“Yeah, it’s easier most of the time. Messier though. You know what I mean. You’ve done it before.”

“Sure, but not with you.” I wasn’t trying to be grouchy about it, and I definitely wasn’t trying to convince her to do the same with me, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t a bit jealous.

“I just thought you’d want to know, alright? It’s good disclosure and shit. I’m trying to do this poly thing right for a change, and this is something I’m supposed to share.”

“Are you serious?” I asked. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe her, but she didn’t say it like it was a big secret. There was something else that I was too dense to pick up on.

“Mostly,” she said, having the decency to blush for the first time. “I just thought…”

“What?” I asked, so not getting angry. Definitely not. I wasn’t that jealous and I definitely wasn’t turned on.

“Nevermind,” she said, turning away. She picked up her beer and I instantly knew that I had fucked up. L didn’t tell me shit so we could process it. She didn’t disclose information so we could sit and ponder our boundaries or philosophize about our relationship models. Fuck, why do I keep forgetting who I’m talking to?

“Tell me,” I said, this time more quietly. This time with a hand on the side of her face, and this time in a voice she recognized instantly. She sat up straighter, she put her drink down, and she turned to me slowly.

“It’s new,” she whispered. “And we like it.”

“Keep going,” I said, pulling her closer to me on the couch.

“We like it a lot. So we’ve been fucking more.”

“How much more?” I asked, tightening my grip in her hair as I lifted her dress up with my other hand.

“A few times a day,” she said, nearly whispering as she leaned back and opened her legs wider. “Twice last night, and then again this morning.”

“And?” I asked, parting her thighs as I slipped my fingers under the elastic. She breathed deeply as I toyed with her, sliding my hand along her soft skin without fully touching her. L put her hand on mine, pushing it lower as she moaned against my ear, her body growing limp. I teased her gently, parting her lips before pressing one finger inside her.

“And just before,” she said.

“Before what?” I asked, kissing her neck, and then her shoulder. I shoved her to her back as I moved down her body, her dress around her chest. I kissed her stomach just as I felt her hand in my hair. My fingers entered her one more time, pushing the cotton to one side as I stared at her.

“Just before I came over,” she sighed, pushing me to her with all of her strength. “Just now, just a half hour ago. He fucked me just now. Please…”

Her words changed to something else as I opened my mouth on her and goddamnit why did she have to know me so well? I pushed my tongue into her messy cunt as she held me there, biting her hand and moaning into her arm as she squirmed with each touch.

“He came right there,” she said, pulling me even harder against her and there was nothing I could do. I kissed her thighs and ran my tongue up and down her swollen lips. I pushed fingers inside her and then my tongue once more, tasting both of them at the same time. As much as I focused on her, I still pictured him above her, fucking her just moments earlier, and I was so fucking hard I couldn’t stand it.

“That feels so good, don’t fucking stop. I knew you’d like it. I knew you would.”

“I hate it,” I said, looking up before licking her slowly from top to bottom. I devoured her, ate her, tasted her, and fucking worshiped her like that cunt was divine. Every single bit of her was mine to exalt and to destroy. I swallowed her as she clenched around my fingers, and her moans grew louder than my prayers. She screamed, she shook, and she laughed until my lips and chin were soaked with adoration.

And then I moved up her body before kissing her, letting her taste their come as well. She still trembled as she opened her legs to me and I growled in frustration.

“I fucking hate it,” I said again.

“Then fuck me like you hate it,” she said, handing me that damn foil package. I could hardly hold back as I rolled the fucking latex down over my cock, but then I was inside her, fucking her wet pussy like I thought I could keep her. I bit her lips, bruised her wrists, and didn’t stop until I had finished as well, the condom swelling with my release.

“You’re going to kill me,” I sighed as I collapsed against her.

“You love it,” she said, kissing me gently. “Besides, it’s only fair. If he’s fucking me so much more, then you should too. We have to be equal with these things.”

“You mean with some things,” I groaned.

“Well, of course only some things. It had to be one of you, and I chose him.”

“Why?” I asked, nestling into her soft hair.

“Because of that,” she said. “Because you just fucked me harder than you have in weeks. Because it will drive you crazy, and he would have accepted it like a good person and we would never have spoken of it again. Because I wanted your mouth and your jealousy. You know. I wanted everything.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I know,” she said, kissing me head. “It’s why you love me.”

Hot Summer Nights

We didn’t sleep all night.

It was hot, but we found our bodies touching over and over again, each time lasting longer than the time before. She pulled away when I caressed her arm, and I rolled over when her knee slid too high up my thigh. Early in the morning, I watched, not feeling connected to my body or actions, as I leaned in and kissed her bare shoulder. When she turned to her back, her legs parted and her hand on her stomach, I didn’t look away.

When my hand replaced hers, neither of us moved it. When my fingers traced the edge of elastic neither of us said a word. Her leg pushed against mine, her hand felt my skin with intention, and I didn’t stop. She moaned when I touched hair, and she parted her thighs wider, seemingly holding her breath as I leaned forward until my hand was hovering above her wet skin. I kissed her cheek, my fingers barely tracing her, and she opened her eyes.

“Kiss me,” I whispered.

When her lips touched mine, my hand dropped, fingers opening her even as our tongues did the same. I pulled her to me, kissing her harder as she struggled with my boxers, pushing them down until her hand was around my cock. We moaned and squirmed, losing our few items of clothing until finally our sweaty bodies were just skin against skin and it was too much.

“I want you,” I said, climbing between her legs and pinning her arms above her head. “Now.”

“Yes,” she said, lifting her hips off the bed. “Yes, yes, yes.”

It took effort to penetrate her, and I finally had to reach between our legs and guide myself inside her. But when it was done, when we were as close as it was possible to be, time held still right along with us. I stared into her eyes, she slid her hands down to my ass, and then finally we kissed once more before we started to fuck.

She came within minutes, her legs wrapped around my body, her teeth pulling on my lip, and my cock buried inside her. I breathed her orgasm, never letting go of our kiss, even as she shuddered beneath me. I slowed down only enough to feel her around me, clenching and trembling as she came, and then I was fucking her once more, needing to join her in her release more than anything I had needed before.

When I came she was laughing, her body still in convulsions as I closed my eyes and arched my back, thrusting inside her over and over again as my orgasm ripped through me. My toes tingled, my hands went numb, and it felt like every ounce of life, soul, and heart filled her at the same time. I gave over completely, letting go of the world, and for a few glorious seconds, I didn’t exist.

We kissed for a long time, my body growing soft inside her. Her giggles spread to me as I pushed her hair from her face and stared at her knowing eyes. She was prettier than should be allowed, and I loved her impossibly.

“Do you feel guilty?” I finally asked.

“No,” she whispered, touching my lips. “I feel stupid.”

“Why stupid?”

“Because you silly boy. If we had done that earlier, we might have fucking slept.”

Brooke Shields’ Desk

Dorothy Darker at School

Photo © The Dirty Gentleman

“Brooke Shields used to sit at that desk.”

I turned to look at the girl next to me and shrugged like I didn’t care.

It looked like all the others, but in an instant, I knew it wasn’t. It was special, it was possibly sacred, and why the hell did she have to say that just as class was starting? I closed my eyes and pictured her ass under a short plaid private school skirt rubbing against the cold hard plastic, and I was in heaven. Sure, I never met her, but my mom taught her and so did J’s Dad and that was close enough. All the stories got passed down year to year, and even ten years after she graduated, she was a presence that stimulated both pride and anxiety. But right then, in the middle of English class, all I cared about was the thought that my ass was touching the same damn seat that Brooke’s ass once touched.

“Tom, do you want to come up to the board and punctuate this sentence?”

The teacher’s voice brought me back to the horrible present, but all I could do was nod and try to figure out what I was supposed to do. Grammar wasn’t my strong suit, and standing in front of the class with a hard-on was enough to make me permanently decide that Mrs. Lindon was the devil. I muddled through it, got corrected and sent back to my seat, and as much as I tried to pay attention after that, it was no use. There are times when living in a fantasy world is preferred to the real one and don’t ever feel guilty for it. Sometimes running away is the best option. Especially if your run ends with Brooke’s teenage ass.

“Dude, that was pathetic,” Mark said as we climbed down the back stairs and outside the building. It was a horrible piece of ‘70s architecture and it lacked the typical luxury of a private school, but for some reason our senior year English class got sent up there anyway. I’m fine with old and I’m fine with modern, but this twenty-year-old buillshit was horrible. We crossed the driveway and then headed across the parking lot to the library like we always did.

“It was Jean’s fault,” I mumbled.

“What did she do, show you her tits or something? You looked like you had a banana in your pocket.”

“Fuck you, Mark. But no. She went and told me that Brooke used to sit at my desk.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? She’s like eight years older than you and hasn’t gone here in a decade. What do you care?”

“She’s hot,” I said with a shrug. It was the truth, although to be fair, she was my only celebrity crush, and that was just because it was personal. I didn’t like her because of her movies, I liked her because of her yearbook photos and the arguments the teachers had about how pretty she was and how smart she was. I liked her because she was close to home, and that was enough for me. I liked Brooke Shields because she made me feel like I could touch something bigger and better than myself and I was desperate for importance.

We found our seats in the back of the library and spent the next hour and a half bullshitting with whoever stopped by before the late bus. People came and went, and by four-thirty, most of the building was empty except for me and Tara Williams. We rode the same bus and everyone called her a slut. Which only meant that I liked her instantly. She was quiet, but she smiled at me, and on occasion, she even sat with me on the bus ride and we talked in the back row. I had some strange suspicion that she didn’t have many friends, especially guys since all they talked about was how badly they wanted to get into her pants.

We moved out into the hallway to wait for the bus, and I sat behind her gently rubbing her shoulders as we talked about class. We were in Spanish together and had just gotten into reading Neruda. Or at least attempting to. She thought it was hot and I thought it was romantic, and I mumbled the few lines I had forced myself to remember for just this occasion. Quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos.

Tara leaned back as I whispered the words in her ear, and my hands slipped over her shoulders without another word from either of us. I could see right down her shirt to her bare breasts, and somehow I managed not to hyperventilate. As I moved my hands lower, she nestled in against my legs like everything I was doing was fine. I finally reached down the front of her shirt and began to massage her tits as she touched my arm gently and sighed quietly. I was gentle and careful, practically holding my breath for the moment she would tell me to stop.

A few minutes later the bus showed up outside, and I pulled my hands out of her shirt and we grabbed our bags. We were silent as we climbed on board, and Al, the bus driver, just nodded at us and then shook his head. What a crazy old man, I thought to myself, remembering how he ran us off the side of the road in a snowstorm one time. I liked him, but that didn’t mean much.

Tara sat down and I sat across from her. She pulled out her Spanish book and started reading through the last chapter, so I pretended to do something else. I was surprised that I hadn’t grown hard feeling her up, and I wondered if there was something wrong with me. Just the thought of Brooke’s ass had done it, but this was real and it was here and she was prettier and smarter than Brooke anyway. At least to me she was.

“Hey Tom,” Tara said, touching me on the shoulder a half hour later when we got to her stop. I looked at her big warm smile and my heart melted a little bit. She was more than pretty and I was an idiot who didn’t know how to say anything.

“That’s for the massage. It was nice.”

And then I watched her ass as she wobbled up to the front and climbed down the steps onto the sidewalk in front of her house. I pictured her going up to her room and undressing, and I got angry at myself for being so crass. She was a nice girl no matter what anybody else said. Why else would she have let me feel her up? Maybe there was something wrong with her too.

It got dark before I got home, and I was grateful for the cover of night. I climbed the steps to my house, my backpack heavy on one shoulder, and I stood in front of the door for a while trying to get the nerve to go inside. Maybe school wasn’t great, but it was full of pretty girls and good memories. It was full of old buildings, favorite teachers, and of course Tara Williams the slutty girl that was a saint as far as I was concerned. I took a deep breath and tried to forget about the desk and the imagined plaid skirt. I held my hands up to my face and remembered that just an hour before they had touched the best tits in school.

My key didn’t make a sound as I turned the lock and opened the door. It was quiet in the house, but I could smell dinner cooking. Macaroni and cheese most likely.

“Hey, mom,” I said to nobody in particular. “I’m home.”

Serving the Guests

Photo © by The Dirty Gentleman for Quickies in New York

Photo © by The Dirty Gentleman for Quickies in New York

I like to meet her at the door when she gets home from work. Especially when there are guests over she doesn’t know about, and especially when she drops to her knees the second she walks under the transom. It’s a silly little game, making her beg for my cock with six pairs of listening ears a few feet away, but it’s the small things in life that make it all worthwhile.

The other night she didn’t hesitate for a moment, and her words were loud and clear enough for all to hear. Halfway through, I pulled her up, still in the foyer, and had her take her dress off. I like to think she forgot about work instantly, although in truth it might have taken the applause to really bring her to the present. She turned the corner as I moved to the kitchen, and my guests smiled and clapped as she blushed the nicest shade of red.

The rest of the evening was inevitable from that point on, and we slipped into a lazy ease that felt so very much like summer. After passing out drinks, she moved the coffee table out of the way and knelt on the floor as the rest of us talked about our days and our weekends to come. As we sipped our cocktails, I waved her to an old friend with a flick of my fingers, and we all leaned back to watch her lift a dress and open her mouth against wet sin. The talking continued, but of course we let the pauses grow longer to make room for the lovely sighs of joy coming from the girl on the couch.

After one orgams, she moved back to the center of the room, and the mild conversation continued until I asked her to take the man next to me into her mouth. He toasted me with real affection as she pulled him hard and straining from his pants and took him all the way into her throat with one big breath. The breeze through the window did little to cool us down, but in truth there was no reason to be bothered by the heat. What use is summer if you can’t let go?

An hour later one of the newer couples in the room made use of both her ends as we slipped drunkenly into the couch pillows and watched. He fucked her slowly from behind as she pulled an open mouth between her thighs along with curious fingers and a languid tongue. Their drinks rested neatly on her back eliciting laughs with each small spill.

Later in the evening she knelt next to me, her own drink finally making its way to her lips as I pet her hair and whispered kind words into her ear. My guests let their hands slid under slips and inside undone pants without much effort at all, and the evening passed like all evenings should: with a glorious slowing of sweaty limbs and unbroken hearts. The music danced, the gin drifted, and the lips and faces of friends grew content with simple pleasures.

When we finally found ourselves alone it was to a big soft bed and linen sheets that did little to stifle the heat. We kissed and we whispered words of praise and delight. We touched faces and shoulders in the growing darkness, and when the bells chimed four they found us drifting in and out of sleep as we floated gently in a daze of sweetened dreams.

Morals Far and Few

Her bikini was so small that it took me five minutes to realize I knew her. But when she turned around, smiled at me, and took the empty chair next to me by the pool, it all came rushing back in an instant.

“I haven’t seen you since high school,” she said, pulling her sunglasses down.

“Who let you up here?” I asked. She had always been a difficult student, and I teased her to no end about it. Old habits die hard.

“Me? I’m more surprised they let lecherous old men like you up here with all these pretty young things. Don’t they have a bouncer anymore?”

The rooftop deck was less exclusive than it was hard to find, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. She fit in far better than I did, although I suppose I was part of the charm. What’s the point of discovering a swimming pool on the roof if you can’t bump into writers and artists with morals few and far between?

“I seem to recall you had a fondness for lecherous old men like me,” I said, wondering how much had changed. Eight years is a long time, especially for a girl like her.

“And I seem to recall you didn’t mind a short skirt and knee high socks. Although I suppose this bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

I looked her up and down without hiding a thing because the game came back without any effort at all. We had a boundary we both pushed against, and while it grew blurrier the closer we got to graduation, there was still a line I hadn’t crossed. It wasn’t much of one, but it was a line all the same.

“I wonder if I would have done it,” she said, closing her eyes. “I mean, if you had actually followed through with my blatant offers, I wonder how I would have reacted. It’s so easy now to picture myself doing it all, but at the time I think I was still content with the fantasy.”

“I’m glad you never asked me outright,” I said, and it was the truth. Hints were one thing, but if she had undressed or told me to take her, I’m not sure what I would have done.

“I can’t remember how many times I came thinking about you.”

“I stopped counting a long time ago,” I said, turning to face her. She sat up and leaned closer to me so our heads were practically touching.

“It’s not as hot now, is it?” She asked, one hand on my cheek. “I mean, the thought of you fucking me right now. The image of you pulling me into the bathroom, sliding this bikini to one side, and just fucking me until the guilt goes away just isn’t as hot as it was when I was your student.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s completely without appeal,” I whispered, sliding one hand down her shoulder as I toyed with the thin blue strap. “In fact, I can think of five reasons we shouldn’t fuck right now, and none of them have to do with my tenure.”

“One of us has a ring on,” she whispered.

“And one of us has a date waiting at the bar,” I said, my hand slipping down to her hip.

“Neither of us has a condom,” she said, her lips against my ear.

“Both of us fall in love too quickly.”

“On the other hand, there’s a lock on the bathroom door and eight years is a long time to wait.”

“You make a good point,” I said, standing up and pulling her with me. “It’s a very long time to wait.”

“You know what will be longer?” She asked, looking up at me with a grin I remembered far too clearly.

“What’s that?”

“The two minutes you have to wait before following me.”

And she was not wrong.

A Creepy Birthday Blowjob

I told her that in high school a good friend once asked to suck my cock so she could practice before trying it on her boyfriend later that night. It was a drunk story I told her late one night, and I had almost forgotten I shared it until she climbed into bed with that look on her face that I love so well.

“You remember that thing about a practice blowjob?” she asked, kneeling over me and licking her lips.

“Of course I do. It was a fucking fantastic afternoon, and after the party, my friend kissed me on the lips telling me her boyfriend had loved how good she was.”

“Yeah, that one,” she sighed, reaching one hand down to my jeans. “Can we maybe try it out? But with other things?”

We played a few different games, but I was fairly certain I knew which one she meant. I rolled her to one side and pushed her hair behind an ear gently. I slide the strap of her shirt and bra down as she looked into my eyes with a question. I whispered that it was okay. I assured her everything would be alright as long as we were quiet and didn’t tell.

“But we shouldn’t,” she sighed.

“I just want to help,” I told her, taking her hand and placing it on my growing cock. “It doesn’t matter that you’re my sister, it only matters that I’m here, and you need to practice. You want to make him happy, don’t you?”

“But what if someone finds out?” she asked, not taking her hand away as I gently kissed her neck and chin.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” I asked. She shook her head as I unzipped my jeans, and by then I was so hard it didn’t matter. We were already so deep in the game there was no going back.

“Good, so be a good girl and suck your big brother’s cock. I already told you, your boyfriend will thank me for it. You have to get better at it sometime.”

She didn’t need more convincing before leaning over and tentatively taking me between her lips. Her hand was gentle as she slid it up and down my cock, but the game blurred with reality because I knew the truth, and I needed it as much as the fantasy. Maybe it could work if I said the right words.

“You know, he’s not as nice as me,” I said. “In fact, I think he’ll be a bit more aggressive than this.”

And before she could come up for air, I shoved her down around my cock until I was buried in her throat. She gagged for not even a second before coming up and smiling at me like she had just won a blue ribbon. I pushed her back down and began moving faster and faster as I fucked her, the fantasy full in my mind even as I used her the way she really was.

“Sit up and show me your pussy,” I told her, grabbing her by the hair as she gasped for air. She blushed but lifted her dress, and I stared at her like it was the first time.

“My god, you are so hot, sis. And that little pussy is going to be mine on these days too, you know that right? You know I’m going to fuck you soon?”

Before she could do anything but nod and whimper, I pulled her back down to my cock, rolling us both over until we were on our side.

“But now I’m going to fuck your slutty little mouth until I come.”

“Oh god,” she gasped, letting me fuck her harder and harder.

Blowjobs do not usually make me come. Nothing sweet ever does. But as I shoved her onto her back, my hand on her breasts as I fucked her mouth and throat harder and faster, I knew that I was close. She took all of me, her hands on my ass as she let me use her, and just a few minutes later I growled her name and thrust into her before coming down her throat as she swallowed every drop.

As soon as I was done, I pulled her up for a kiss as he little fingers moved between her legs. I held her by the throat as she brought herself closer and closer.

“You’re going to come for your big brother, and when you boyfriend is fucking your mouth later, you’re going to pretend that it’s me. Isn’t that right, Sis?”

She was coming before I got the sentence out, and I held her closely as she screamed and bit her lip, trembling around her fingers as she called out to the divine.

A few moments later I held her limp body in my arms and kissed her hair.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” she said, kissing me between giggles.

“You are amazing,”  I said, holding her tightly as both of us slowly began to return to ourselves.

“How the fuck do you know my head so well?”

“Maybe we just share a brain,” I replied.

She lay there against me for a long time, my shirt untucked, my pants around my knees, and my cock still hard against my stomach. Her dress was askew and one breast was still bared to the world. I pushed my fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead as I whispered thank you over and over again.

Finally, she looked up and kissed my nose.

“Happy birthday, now let’s go eat oysters and get drunk.”

And that’s just what we did.

A Dirty or Slutty Thing

“It’s not that I even like come all that much, it’s just a dirty thing. Or a slutty thing. You know what I mean.”

We all listened carefully, although to be fair I doubt any of us really needed an explanation. It was a simple enough invitation and we had already agreed. But if she wanted to confess first, that was fine with me. Hell, I love hearing a confession, especially from a girl who invited four guys over so she could take a few pictures to send to her far off boyfriend. I didn’t even know if he existed, but that didn’t matter either. Because I, on the other hand, do like come.

“Well, I’m ready when you are,” one of the guys said, clearly eager to get started. Fucker probably had a dinner reservation with his wife or something. But we all nodded and agreed, and she didn’t make us wait. She stripped down unceremoniously until she was as naked as a Canadian Sphynx. Then she lay down on the bed and instantly started to touch herself.

“Well shit,” one of the other guys said as we moved in closer. There didn’t seem to be much point in waiting, and I was already pretty hard just from listening to her tell us what she wanted. I knelt next to her and she looked up to watch me pull my cock out and start to jerk off. The other three guys followed suit pretty quickly, and soon enough all five of us were touching ourselves.

It was difficult to know where to look, but once she started talking it didn’t matter. She was clear that we weren’t allowed to touch, but that didn’t mean she was going to keep quiet. I moved from one guy to the next before my eyes settled on her fingers nestled deep in her cunt.

“Tell me you want to fuck me, all of you,” she moaned. “Tell me all the horrible things you’ll do to me.”

We didn’t need much encouragement.

“We’re gonna take turns fucking that pretty mouth of yours,” one of them offered as an introduction.

“I’m gonna fuck your cunt with a hand on your throat as the others hold you down,” someone else contributed.

“I want to fuck your ass while you choke on his cock,” the third guy said. She kept on touching herself and moaning as we leaned over her naked body watching her fingers and our hands.

“Do it,” she moaned. “Use me, all of you. Fuck me and come on me and in me and leave me a fucking mess.”

“You’re just a little cunt for us to use however we like, isn’t that right? We’re going to take turns choking you and fucking you until you can’t even tell us apart, and then we’re going to do it again.”

“Oh fuck yes,” she moaned, her fingers moving faster as one of the guys started to moan too. A second later he leaned in closer, his fist a blur as he let go all over her tits and neck. She arched her back, licked her lips, and pushed three fingers into her soaking wet cunt just as the second guy came on her stomach.

“I’m so fucking close,” she pleaded. “Don’t stop.”

“We’re going to tie you up when we’re done and leave you here so he finds you,” I said, my own fist working towards a clear goal. “You’ll be covered in come and still soaking wet and begging for more like the filthy slut you are. There’s no going back.”

“Oh fuck!” Guy number three said, coating her already wet skin just as I followed him. She started to scream and it felt like all of us were coming forever. The room smelled like the ocean in August, and she was a filthy mess of a naked girl and I swear to god I have never seen anything prettier in my life. She clenched around her fingers, licked some come off her chin, and kept on shaking even as the other three guys started slowly shuffling back from the bed as they zipped up.

For a while, she closed her eyes and just lay there, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. The other guys quickly gathered their things and headed to the door. I took my time, wanting to make sure she was okay and to offer her a towel or something. And then I remembered the damn photos.

“Hey, do you want me to take some pictures?” I asked when it was just us two. She pointed to the dresser at the foot of the bed and I smiled. Her phone was leaning against a book staring right at us. The video was still running as I approached it.

“Can you do one more thing for me?” She asked.

“Anything you like,” I said, reaching up to turn it off.

“Once you stop the camera, can you come over here and fuck me for real? That was hot, but I want you inside me until you come again. Please?”

“Of course I will. Let me just turn this off and then you’re filthy little cunt is all mine.”

I hit the red button, stopped the video, and then walked it over to her bedside table. I put it down just as she reached a hand up to me. I smiled at the beautiful messy girl next to me and kissed her proffered fingers, getting a taste of her for the first time in my life.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Anytime,” I said, blowing her a kiss as I headed for the door.

Beach and Boardwalk Smut for the Summer

I’m about halfway through (just over 15K words) the sequel to Susanna’s Affairs, so of course, I had to take a break and start playing with covers.

So far they’ve gotten to the beach, blown some dudes (okay one each) and gotten blackmailed by a couple of sisters. I guess we’ll see where it goes!

Here’s a preview of my super rough draft, cause why the hell not:


“It wasn’t really all that, to be honest. We sat on his porch for a few moments, and I suppose I let him kiss me.”

“Just a kiss, my dear?” Nicholas asked.

“Well, since I was so stubborn and refused to admit that you might be correct, not all that much was on the table. Why is it you know me so well?”

“You can’t stop there!” Her husband exclaimed. Susanna had a tendency to toy with him and he found that his imagination was often far more extravagant than the troubles she usually got into.

“We kissed on his porch like I said, and he did manage to get a hand under my dress.”

Susanna got up and slid over to her husband’s lap before continuing her story.

“He was quite talented with his fingers,” she whispered as she touched his cheek. “He parted my thighs and touched me right there on his porch where anyone could see us, and I nearly came right then. In less than a minute he had pulled himself from his trousers and placed my hand on his erection. It was difficult to focus, but I managed to toy with him through our kisses and his finger work.”

“There’s my girl,” Nicholas said, sliding his hand beneath her dress, up her thigh, and then against her warm sex. She wore nothing under the thin cotton and he parted her lips with a practiced familiarity.

“All the while he kept whispering in my ear about how he wanted to fuck me. He told me he would take me right there by the street, and he would make me scream until the neighbors complained. He said he wanted to fuck me a hundred times, and by the time I dropped to my knees, I suspect both of us were close to finished.”

“And did he?” Nicholas asked, touching her with more and more force and attention. “Did you let him fuck you right there? Did you let him fill this perfect cunt of mine?”

“I wanted to,” she moaned, as her husband worked his fingers inside her. “I wanted to so badly, but I was stubborn and had told you I wouldn’t, so instead I took him into my mouth as I touched myself. Please don’t stop.”

“Did you tell him?” he asked, his fingers moving up to her clitoris just as she liked. “Did you tell him you wanted him too? Did you tell him you wanted to fuck him but you promised your husband that you wouldn’t?”

“Yes,” she moaned, kissing his neck and his ear as she writhed on his lap, his other hand now on her neck as he held her tightly. “I told him I wanted him inside me. I told him I wanted to fuck him, but I couldn’t. Not yet.”

“And did that make him come, my dear? Did your words make him come.”

“It was my mouth,” Susanna moaned, feeling herself about to let go. “I sucked him into my throat and ran my hand up and down his length. He was so thick and so hard that it was all I could do to resist. Finally, I moved up and down so quickly that he called out, and before I could do anything at all, he was coming in my mouth until I nearly gagged from it.”

“Such a good girl,” Nicholas said, squeezing her harder as he continued touching her. He could tell she was close, but she needed just one more push. “When will you fuck him?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, as she clenched around his fingers.

“Tell me when you’ll give in. I want you to decide right now. To make a plan for it. I want you to tell me right this moment when you’ll go back to his house, crawl onto his lap and take his cock inside you until you come. Tell me now!”

“In the morning,” she moaned as she started to come. Nicholas let up on her throat just enough for her to gasp for air, but his fingers never stopped. “I’ll fuck him tomorrow. I can’t wait any longer….”

Write More Erotica!

I was chatting about writing smut yesterday and got to thinking about it a little. If you’re going to write (and share) dirty things, here are some of the things you will most likely worry about:

Will they think I’m gross?

Am I the only person who thinks this is hot?

Am I a huge creep or a perv in a non-sexy way?

Will someone think it’s about them (or not)?

Am I a crap writer?

Is there really a point in sharing this?

Will my mother read this?

Will I get nasty messages about it?

Will anyone actually get off to this?

What am I doing with my life?

So, let yourself ask these questions without needing to answer them and then go ahead and write it and share it anyway. I’ve written and published 35 dirty books in the last six years, and I still think nearly every one of these every time I so much as share a paragraph of smut anywhere.

I can promise you that if you think it’s hot, someone else will too. Always.