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.”

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 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.

From Sharing the Wrong Girl: A Road Trip with my Best Friend’s Daughter

Sharing the Wrong Girl

Click on the cover for retail links to Amazon, Google Play, iTunes, and Kobo.

“Do you want to know my kink?” she finally asked.

“Obviously,” I said, stealing another glance of the pink cotton showing beneath her shorts. Her thighs were smooth and inviting, and I pictured a thousand things all at once. If she was going to tease, I was prepared to call her bluff.

“It’s pretty simple,” she said, her hand moving down to her thigh as she tugged on the hem of her shorts. “I just like to feel like a slut. It’s a cross between objectification and submission, I guess. It’s mostly about feeling wanted. Like really truly wanted in filthy ways by all the wrong people.”

“That doesn’t sound simple,” I said, trying to focus on my driving as I inwardly groaned. Of course, she had to get turned on by exactly the things I was trying to avoid.

“Well, it’s not like I’m into piss or knife play. I don’t want to wear a pony mask or get put in a cage with a dog bowl. I just like it when men want to fuck me and are really obvious about it. Like how you got when I told you I let that guy finger me.”

“You are fucking intense, Lisa, do you know that? There is no way in hell I would ever tell Brendan any of this, and please tell me the same is true for you. He’d fucking kill me.”

“We’re just talking,” she said, her hand still fumbling with her tiny shorts.

“That’s true,” I said, knowing how big a lie that really was. “We’re just talking. For now.”

“It’s not like we’re going to do anything, right?”

“Well, it’s good that we have that settled,” I said with a smirk.

“But I guess watching isn’t really a crime, though, is it?” She asked, my eyes following hers as they looked down at her lap. “I mean, what happens in the car isn’t important. And besides, it’s not my fault if you happen to look.”

And then, as I looked at the road with one eye, and the girl with the other, she did just what Molly would have done. Never looking up, she pulled the thin fabric to one side, her legs opening wider until I could see her perfectly smooth cunt just two feet away from me.

“This is where he touched me,” she whispered. “He had his fingers all over and inside me, and I got so wet. Almost as wet as I am now.”

She reached down with her other hand and gently touched the lips of her pussy as I tried not to crash the car. When I finally stole another glance at her, she pushed one finger inside herself before pulling it out–slick with her excitement–and licking it clean.

(This is an excerpt from Sharing the Wrong Girl, a rewrite of Driving Lisa after Amazon banned it. If you purchased Driving Lisa and would like a free copy of the new version, just drop me a note and I’ll send you links to download it.)

Couples that Porn Together

 

couple kiss laptop“Okay, this one is kinda creepy in a good way, but the voices are horrible,” she said. She hit play and I watched a girl climb into her “step-father’s” bed and slowly start to seduce him. We only listened to two lines of dialog before turning the sound off, but it was enough to set the scene. They were young and cute, and of course, he had a huge dick that he didn’t really hesitate to fuck his “step-daughter” with in spite of his initial protests.

“This one is kinda gross and kinda hot,” I said when hers was done. I turned my laptop so she could watch the video I had found the night before when I couldn’t sleep.

“Ugh, that is gross. But yeah, kinda hot,” she said. I kissed her cheek as we leaned in closer, the bright screens on our laps full of more images of cocks, cunts, come, and perfect manicures. She showed me another as I scrolled through the dirtier side of my tumblr dashboard, and the images we somehow less important than the sharing.

“Would you suck that cock?” she asked, and I only nodded.

“Would you go down on that girl?” I asked, and she looked at me like I didn’t know her. “Obviously.”

But then the laptops were on the floor next to the bed, and our hands were all over ourselves and each other as we stayed lost in the neon glow of impossible naked bodies. I was already hard, but still I jerked myself off as she pushed the covers down so both of us could watch. Each scene–perverted in its own way–played through my head as we kissed, and when I climbed between her legs I couldn’t settle on one story.

“I’m thinking about everything at the same time. I want to go down on my little sister after her date, and then I want to fuck you as you tell me daddies aren’t supposed to do that. I want to break into the apartment and cover your mouth as you scream, and I want to watch you in the bath with that girl with pink hair.”

“Daddies aren’t supposed to fuck their little girls,” she whispered, her hand guiding me inside her before I could even start to tease.

“But you’re my little girl, aren’t you?” I asked, instantly letting the rest of them fall away. “I own this pretty little mouth and these perfect little tits, and this tight cunt belongs all to me, isn’t that right?”

“Oh god,” she moaned, as I fucked her faster, her arms now pinned above her head. “Yes, Daddy. It’s all yours. All of me belong just to you.”

And then our words stopped as we kissed and moaned, the poetic side to our sex replaced by the sweat and come as fucked on our bed in our warm and cozy apartment. I could see nothing but her eyes as I thrust into her, and she scratched her nails down my back in perfect symmetry. When she started to come she said the words we don’t share, and I kissed her again as I felt myself follow quickly behind her.

And then, in the darkness, the laptops gone, the games vanished, and the words that are better than toys put away, we held hands as we looked up at the ceiling, our chests rising and falling as our hearts beat to the same rhythm.

Christmas Sex on the Balcony

img_9758

Photo by Guy New York

“Do you mind if he listens?”

The small balcony looked fifteen floors down to 5th Avenue, and the whole town was bursting with red and gold. New York City was celebrating as best it could, and behind us, in the apartment, our friends and colleagues were getting drunk enough to only think of the good parts. When she turned back to the railing, I wrapped my arms around her in an embrace that was less than chaste.

“Is that what you want?” I asked, my lips against her neck. She nodded as she placed her phone down on the stone ledge in front of us. The dim light didn’t offer much illumination, but it was enough for me to know that we already had an audience.

“Tell me what else you want?” I asked, louder than I might have otherwise. I had shut the door behind us, but the chance of being interrupted was still high. Especially by curious colleagues who didn’t quite understand the whole “open marriage” thing. She mumbled quietly, but of course, that wasn’t enough. I lifted her dress and pushed her down, her mouth just inches from her phone.

“Say it again,” I demanded. “Louder.”

“I want you to fuck me,” she finally said, and I could only imagine the blush that spread across her cheeks as she finally said the words out loud.

“Right here? You want me to fuck you on the balcony while your entire office is drinking behind us?”

“Yes,” she moaned again, pushing back against me.

“Take off your panties,” I said. She didn’t pause for a moment, and seconds later she was standing again, her now bare ass beneath my hands.

“That’s better, slut,” I said, eliciting another moan from her lips. “Do you like being called names? Does it make it hotter?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Call me anything you want. I feel so fucking filthy right now, but all I want is your cock inside me. Please, I haven’t fucked anyone but him in so long.”

“How long?” I asked, quietly tearing open the condom wrapper.

“It’s been almost a year,” she said, nearly too quietly.

“And how long have you wanted me to fuck you?” I asked.

“Too long,” she moaned, her mouth inches from the phone as I pressed myself against her ass. “Since I met you. I’ve wanted to fuck you for two years. Since before…”

“Before what?” I said, teasing her with the head of my cock.

“Don’t make me say it,” she said as I opened her with two fingers. She was beautifully wet, and I wasn’t sure how long I could keep playing their game because the truth was I had wanted her as well. Since the second I met her I wanted to do impossibly horrible things to her and waiting another minute for her to admit her desires to her husband was almost too much.

“Tell me,” I growled, positioning myself in exactly the right spot. “If you want me to fuck you, tell me the truth.”

“Since before,” she sighed again. “Before we were open. I used to make myself come thinking about you. Even when I was fucking him sometimes. I thought about you so often, please don’t make me wait any longer. I can feel you against me, but it’s not enough. I need more.”

“Beg,” I said.

“Fuck me,” she moaned, pushing back on me as I slid halfway inside her before holding her hips still. “Please fuck me. I’ll do anything for you, christ it feels so good. Give me more. Let me feel all of you inside me.”

“Is that better?” I asked, pushing her forward as I thrust all the way into her.

“Yes,” she moaned over and over again as I began to move. “It’s perfect, god you feel just like imagined. Better even. Please don’t stop. Tell me you won’t stop. Tell me you’ll fuck me tomorrow too and then the next day.”

“I’ll fuck you whenever you like,” I said, beginning to lose track of everything as we fucked faster and harder, the cold air blowing against my face and stinging my eyes.

“Oh fuck, I’m going to come. You feel so damn good inside me. I love your cock. I love you and I’ll do anything.”

“Come for me, you little whore,” I moaned, thrusting into her as hard as I could, even as she clenched around me. Her sighs turned into something deeper as she pressed her lips to the phone, whispering something just to him that I couldn’t understand. And then she was shaking as she cried quietly in the night, and I was so close that I couldn’t find words.

I pulled her to me once more, feeling myself come in spite of the cold, and I held her there as I gripped the base of my cock, holding the condom on tightly before slowly withdrawing. She gasped ever so slightly as I fixed myself along with her dress. When I looked down, I realized the phone had gone dark, and it was just us on the balcony, the noise from the party finally returning behind us.

“You are amazing,” I said, pulling her in for a kiss. She kissed me back before taking my hand in hers as we turned and looked out over the city. I wondered for a moment how many parties just like this one were happening all over town. And of course, then my mind drifted to how many couples had just done what we had done with or without the permission of a third party.

“Let’s go back in and get drunk,” she said. “Because if that isn’t reason enough to celebrate I don’t know what is.”

“After you,” I said, turning for one last glimpse of the city. Downstairs her husband would be waiting eagerly, and I knew the second we were back inside I would lose her. It was a simple loss and one that I always expected, but a loss just the same. I smiled at the flickering lights below, turned around with a deep breath, and then opened the door to face the music.

 

A Perfect Vision

Photo by The Dirty Gentleman

Photo by The Dirty Gentleman

She was sitting across from me on a chair that looked like someone’s grandmother had lost their virginity on it. Her smile was playful, and I imagined a straw hanging from her lips, one end chewed to a pulp as she toyed with it and me at the same time. As her legs parted ever so slightly, I sat up directly and slid one hand down to my right thigh, my palm just barely brushing against the head of my cock beneath the tight fabric.

Less than six feet away she might as well have been a mile, but it didn’t matter. I watched her dress ride up slowly, pulled by a firm but lazy hand. I felt myself slip down as I watched, and she nodded as I released the button to my pants. By the time I could see the black fabric between her legs, my zipper was down, my fingers were wrapped around my cock, and I could feel the blood pumping beneath my fingers.

When her skirt was finally about her waist, she stopped her teasing and simply leaned back in the chair, her thighs wide and her arms relaxed in her lap. I stared at the fabric that covered her even as I pulled myself from my jeans, letting her watch as I grew harder by the second. Her smile was the only indication of her appreciation, but it was enough for me to keep going. I closed my hand tighter, feeling the resistance now as I began to move in the only direction imaginable.

My breathing was the only real noise in the room, other than the soft sound of skin against skin as my hand moved faster. I paused on occasion to gently rub myself, reveling in my own desire even as I struggled to temper it for just a moment. When her hand finally slipped lazily down between her things I was back to full speed through, and that time she laughed just loudly enough for me to moan.

She knew I was close by the tightness around my eyes, the muscles straining in my forearm, and the way my feet stretched out like an awkward and giant ballerina. She smiled as I gasped, and when her fingers touched the edge of the black lace, I nearly lost myself. It felt like years that she toyed with it, never once letting me glimpse what was beneath, but always leaving my hope in tact all the same.

My own body was getting close to the point of no return, even as I struggled to wait for the things I desired most. The rest of the room was a blur as my vision honed in on her and nothing else, and for all our distance I might as well have been inches from her. I could feel my near release gently wet my fingers, but I knew I didn’t have much control left at all. Staring at her hands, her thighs, and the tight fabric beneath which I imagined I could see the shape of her pressing into the lace, I could only revel in awe as I struggled to find words for so much glory.

And then, just when I wasn’t sure I could hold on much longer, she leaned her head back and moved her fingers for no more than a second. I remember it lasting far longer, and I swear I can still see the tiny muscles of her hand move as she gently, laughingly, nearly absentmindedly, moved the fabric to one side giving me a glimpse of what lay beneath.

My moans were no longer quiet as my body tightened, my fist paused, and my cock tensed as it slid past the point of no return. With my eyes still wide and still glued to her, I was moving again, pulling my skin back, tightening around myself, and then finally releasing everything as I came and came without an ounce of shame or regret. Her smile was big and her eyes bright as I trembled on the couch in front of her, but when I looked down once more her skirt covered everything even as I lay back as exposed and undone as a creature in a cage that was far too small.

She laughed again, this time all warmth and joy as she watched my soften all over again. My chest rose and fell, my hands slipped to my side, and I resisted every urge I had to hide myself. I watched her stand before straightening her skirt and then approaching the couch. She brushed one strand of hair behind my left ear as she leaned in and said nothing at all. But she kissed me on the forehead with affection that bordered on love before pressing one finger against my lips.

I smiled as well, still unmoved and still undone, as she turned and walked towards the door. A moment later I was alone in the warm room with nothing but a memory which I knew I would recall again and again. I heard her footsteps for a moment, and then the sound of another door closing.

I finally let myself sigh as I closed my eyes. My hand moved from my knee back up along my thigh as the room grew darker. And then I saw her once more, her head arched back as she teased me with a glimpse of beauty.

I felt the blood beginning its journey once more as my hand squeezed gently into a lovely embrace, the memory a perfect vision that would forever be mine.

A Hundred Ways to Share: an erotic short story

a threesome with two white men and a white woman

Photo by The Dirty Gentleman for Quickies New York

I like watching her fuck. I don’t think it’s all that complicated, but I do occasionally realize that the world doesn’t look at everything the same way I do. But in this case, I suspect more people lie about it than anything else. I mean come on, it’s hot as hell to watch people get it on, and if one of those people happens to be my girlfriend, it’s even hotter. She gets what she wants, I get what I want, so what’s the big deal?

There are a hundred ways to do this, but we’ve found the one that works for us. Some people need the thrill of cheating, some want to be tied up and forced to watch, and some want to get drunk at a swinger party and just see what happens. Some guys like the humiliation of watching a dude with a big cock bang their wife while they watch from the corner and some guys prefer to hold their girl down and direct all the action.

Which is where we come in. We have a pretty typical relationship, at least for the times, which involves me generally telling her what to do. At least in the bedroom. Look, we’ve unpacked all our patriarchal training, we’ve passed our good feminist exam with flying colors, and we’re damn good at communicating. And we know what we like, which in this case is me telling my girl to fuck other people. Most often while I’m there doing other horrible things to her. Honestly, I think it’s pretty damn romantic, even if I understand not everyone feels the same which. Which is fine by me. You do your shit, and I’ll do mine.

The first time wasn’t perfect, but it never is, so don’t judge me by that one time. We had only been dating for a few months, and we were in that in between stage where we hadn’t really talked about being committed but also weren’t talking about other people. At least not to each other. We hung out three of four nights a week, sometimes more, and we went out for breakfast on the weekends after late night parties with mutual friends. It was a good relationship, even if it was new, and we laughed our asses off, fucked like animals, and drank through our hangovers when necessary. Like I said, we were good.

Normally I would have found a better way to bring up my turn-ons, but I had already grown so used to just saying what was on my mind, that I didn’t really bother to do the grunt work. We were hanging out one night at my place, just drinking a bottle of wine and watching Netflix when I mentioned that my buddy Marcus thought she was super hot. She raised an eyebrow at me, but she didn’t say anything, which I thought was probably a good sign. So I kept on going.

“Do you think he’s cute too?” I asked, totally casually.

“He’s alright, why?”

See, she was super blunt about it, so there was no use beating around the bush. There was no use hemming and hawing as if I hadn’t basically already asked the damn question.

“He wants to chill some time,” I said, with a shrug. “And I thought if you were into it, you guys might want to fuck.”

“I didn’t know you were into that,” she said, more quietly than I expected. I was nervous for a moment, but I wasn’t terrified. If she said no then we’d move on, although to be honest, I have never had a girl say no to that. I don’t mean specifically Marcus, I just mean the offer in general.

“It could be fun,” I said, trying to keep it nonchalant. “But it’s not a big deal. Just thought I’d offer since he can’t stop talking about you, and I’ve seen you flirt with him.”

“Are you jealous?” she asked without even a hint of accusation in her voice. Sarah was an odd duck, I already knew that, but she never reacted exactly the way I expected.

“Maybe a little?” I said, going with complete honesty. “But that’s not really what it’s about. You two flirt, he thinks you’re hot, so I thought I’d offer. Besides, I think it would fun to watch.”

“Okay,” she said, and that was it. There was no more conversation, no more negotiation, and no more communication. And you know what? I was fine with that. I didn’t need a huge conversation about it, and I didn’t need it to turn into some big ordeal. It was a simple question and she had answered it. Sure, she had told me. She’d bang my friend if I wanted her to. Why the hell not?

Two days later I invited him over, and the rest is history. It wasn’t the least awkward threesome I’ve ever had, but it worked out alright in the long run. We all took our time that night, and I realized within the first hour that if shit was actually going to happen, then I was going to be the one to do it. So, after we had all had a few drinks, I stood up, smiled at them both and invited them to join me in the bedroom. Sarah shrugged, Marcus smiled, and the three of us left our glasses on the coffee table as we made for the sanctity of my king size bed.

“Why don’t you sit,” I said to him, resting my hands on Sarah’s shoulders. He sat down like he was told, and she didn’t say a damn word as I held her firmly. She was used to me being in control when it came to sex so why should this be any different?

“You’ve been staring at my girlfriend for the last two months, so I figured I’d show you more,” I said, pulling her shirt off over her head before either of them could respond. He sighed as her bare breasts came into view, and I’m pretty sure I felt her shiver for a moment. As for me, I was hard as a rock and there was no hiding it. I undid her jeans slowly as he looked her up and down, and I could instantly feel the tension in the room grow to the perfect level.

“What do you think?” I asked when she was standing in front of him in just her panties.

“She’s so fucking hot,” he mumbled, unable to look away.

“Do you want to see more?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said, as he stood up almost like he couldn’t help himself. He was only inches in front of her, and there was no going back. I slid the cotton down over her ass until she was wearing nothing at all, and Marcus instantly reached one hand out to touch her hip. I pushed them ever so slightly closer together, and I could hear her breathing get quicker with each second.

“Tell me, Sara,” I whispered, as his hand moved up to her breasts. She arched her back and her nipples hardened in a second. “Do you want to fuck my friend?”

She nodded, but that wasn’t enough. I wanted to hear it, and I knew he did too.

“Tell him then,” I said, my hand sliding down her back, over her ass, and then between her legs. She was soaking wet already, and I knew it was done. There was no going back now.

“I want to fuck you,” she said so quietly he almost couldn’t hear her. But instead of throwing her down, he looked up shyly and smiled at us both.

“I want you too,” he said, before leaning in and kissing her. I watched as I fingered her, and it was sweet and tender. Not exactly what I was looking for, but what can you do? Some people are just sweet and there’s no use trying to avoid it.

“Why don’t you suck his dick for me,” I said, pushing her down and breaking their kiss in an instant. And then it’s all a bit of a blur, to be honest. Maybe it’s because it was the first time and my adrenaline was pumping so hard there was nothing left to do about it, and maybe it was the wine going to my head. But she knelt on the floor and took him into her mouth before doing the same to me. We eventually climbed onto the bed, and we took turns going down on her, kissing her up and down, and fingering that perfect pussy as we bit her neck and squeezed her nipples until she moaned.

Marcus eventually got a condom on and climbed between her legs, and I reached down and rubbed her clit as he slid inside her. She actually looked up at me, her eyes wide with surprise and joy, and I smiled back down at her as he moved faster right next to my fingers. They fucked for only a few minutes before he came, but she was right behind him nonetheless. Maybe it was my mouth just inches from her ear asking her if she liked getting fucked and maybe it was my fingers on her clit, rubbing her just the right way while Marcus pounded into her. Whatever it was, she came just before he pulled out, and the room was a sweaty and glorious mess.

I didn’t fuck her until after he left, but even then it was almost like he was still there. She wrapped her legs around me and bit my neck as we took our time, and this time it was Sarah whispering the horrible things.

“Did you like watching me fuck him?” she asked as I pinned her arms above her head.

“You know I did,” I said, thrusting into her faster and faster.

“You like me being a little slut?” she asked, the teasing in her voice nearly overshadowed by her own want.

“You are the perfect little whore,” I said, my hand moving to her throat just as she liked it. “You’re my perfect little whore, and I’m going to use you and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name. I’m going to fuck you and then let my friends fuck you, and you’re going to come so many times you lose track of everything. You’re mine, do you understand?”

She screamed yes and I came inside her, and together we let out everything all at once in a glorious release that didn’t need any explanation at all. In fact, we curled up next to each other, and once again we didn’t really talk about it. After all, what was there to say? We had a lovely threesome, everybody got to come, it was generally safe, and we had a good time. In fact, the only thing she said before rolling over and falling asleep was a few words of gratitude.

“Thank you,” she whispered as I kissed the back of her neck and wrapped my arms around her.

“I love you,” I said, pulling her closer. She nodded and smiled in the dark.

“I know,” she said, gripping my hand.

And then we slept.

Grown-up Sex (Erotica from QNY)

“What the fuck is grown-up sex?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, trying to wrap my mind around the words I was hunting for. “I just mean we should fuck like adults. Without the… You know… Without the stuff…”

“We should fuck without the stuff?” she asked skeptically.

The night was not going as I had planned, but maybe that was part of it. Grown-up sex meant we talked even when it wasn’t easy and it meant we didn’t get exactly what we wanted. We were adults and we understood sacrifice and delayed gratification. We knew that every relationship was a complicated dance of compromise, emotional navigation, and empathy; sex was no exception. Consent meant we talked through everything no matter what that felt like. It meant we worked out the logistics and settled into the necessity of agreement. We were adults, and we could fuck like adults.

“You know what I mean,” I finally said.

“You mean grown-up sex is negotiated?” she whispered, moving until she knelt over me. She reached down between my legs and took me gently in her hand. I nodded in affirmation.

“Grown-up sex is something we talk about and don’t jump into without consent?” she asked, squeezing harder as I wiggled beneath her. Somehow the blankets were gone and her thumb was doing something to the head of my cock that made me lose focus.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “All of that.”

“It’s dignified,” she whispered, as I arched my back in frustration each time she let go. “It’s safe and it’s beautiful. Grown-up sex is neat and tidy and it doesn’t leave room for mistakes.”

“I mean, I don’t know about all that…” I said as she moved up until she was just inches away from my mouth.

“It’s clean and it’s sober and it’s all about taking care of each other,” she whispered, lowering herself down until all I could do was open my mouth. With fingers in my hair, she pulled me to her, my lips and tongue opening her as she pulled harder and didn’t let go.

“It’s kind and it’s polite, isn’t that right you filthy little slut?”

My hand was on my cock and the other on her ass as every word I had struggled to grasp left me in an instant. My body was so hard it nearly hurt, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to fuck her where my mouth was. All I wanted was to fill her, fuck her, and finish inside her, and there wasn’t a damn thing else that mattered.

I rolled her to her back with a squeal, and she bit my lip in reply to my kiss. In less than a second I was in her and her legs were wrapped around my back as we fucked on the bed without any words at all. One hand pinned her arms above her head as the other moved to her throat, and her eyes opened wide in amazement and surprise. Her hips arched up against mine as I thrust harder and faster, and for a brief moment the only thing I wanted, the only thing that mattered at all, the only thing in the entire world that I needed, was to come until I couldn’t see, and nothing was going to hold me back.

“Fuck me!” she screamed as her nails raked my back and my fingers clenched tighter. She choked and she coughed, her face turning red in an instant, and then we were both shaking as we came, and the waves rolled through us again and again. I kissed her lips, my breath lost with every thing else, and she held me tightly, her spasms still holding me inside of her.

“Was that what you meant?” she finally asked, letting me roll to one side. All I could do was shake my head.

“Not at all,” I said, kissing her nose as I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was so much better…”