Entries with the tag "Erotic Fiction"
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Between Us, A Girl (Part 4 of 5)
“Wow, Jen. That’s some erection you’ve got there.”
For the first time in what seems like hours (“If you experience an erection lasting more than four hours, seek medical help.”), my own cock is deflated and wagging like a puppy’s tail as I walk across the bedroom. “I think I’m envious.”
It’s hard to know whether this is a serious or comic moment. There you stand, admiring yourself in our full-length mirror. Your auburn hair almost hides your face as you look down past your breasts to where Kristy and I have buckled you into the black leather harness. You look a little scared and a little giggly. Straps wrap around each naked leg; another strap wraps around your waist and then attaches to the leg straps. And there, in the middle, solidly resting in a metal ring and pressing against a pad of leather on top of your lower belly, is the dildo.
You turn slightly, seeing what your new cock looks like from the side. It’s purple, not too large, with a natural looking head, raised veins, and a double-humped bump for balls. Sighing, you turn away from the mirror, looking at me, Kristy, then back at me.
“He who hesitates is lost” and you’re hesitating. Before hesitation becomes wavering, before wavering devolves into doubt, I quickly hug you from behind and kiss your neck. Your skin is warm on my reassuring lips and still carries memories of afternoon’s soap and shampoo. Those smells linger beneath an indescribable smell that isn’t a smell. That is, I don’t smell it as much as imagine it—an aroma of sex and adventure, an aroma of all that you’ve done with Kristy so far tonight. I reach one hand around to hold one of your breasts, the other hand slides down past your waist to clutch the dildo. I lift it to an adolescent angle, wag it a bit from side to side, then let it drop. Another surprise from Kristy’s bag of tricks.
“I don’t know about this,” you say. Your hand grips my hand, holding it to your left breast. You laugh nervously, but I can tell you’re also excited. Your breathing is rapid. I can feel your heart racing. Your body is pushed against mine, moving into me even as we’re not moving at all. You may be reluctant, but that only goes so far. You don’t want to not be touched now. You don’t want to stop. You just need a way out of this hiatus, this dildo-induced limbo. You need to be led by your newfound balls.
“What’s to know?” Kristy says. She’s standing naked in front of you. “Look at it. It’s big and long and hard. Looks yummy to me!”
You shake your hips a little, watching the dildo sway back and forth. “Well, OK. I mean, it would look yummy to me too if I were on the receiving end. But I’m not. What do you want me to do with it?”
“Pretend it’s really yours! Like it’s a part of you. Your…” Kristy leans closer. “...cock.” Kristy draws out that word, leaning into you. The dildo is pointing up, pressed between your bellies. She almost whispers, “What do guys do with their cocks?”
“Play with them when no one is looking?” I say, trying to help.
You both laugh. You shoot me a look over your shoulder. “Um, when they think no one is looking is more like it,” you say. “Men aren’t subtle.”
Kristy is still belly-to-belly with you. She reaches around you, grabs my back above my ass, and pulls us both close as she kisses you full on the lips. She lets go and steps back.
“Break’s over,” she says. She slides her hands down your chest, down, down. And then she grabs the dildo as if it were an erect cock. Your cock. And then she strokes it in that underhanded way women stroke a man’s cock when they’re standing in front of him. It starts as if they’re grabbing a handle and giving it a pull. They take it in their hand and pull themselves toward you. Only then do they start stroking it, sliding it in and out of their hand or, more firmly, sliding the outer skin forward and back. And that’s what Kristy is doing. Oh, the dildo doesn’t have skin to slide, but Kristy is definitely treating it as if it were your cock or mine.
“Mmmm, Jenny. Your cock is so big,” she says innocently. You laugh. Kristy kisses you again and drops to her knees in front of you.
And as I hold your breasts from behind and kiss your neck, I watch over your shoulder as Kristy fellates your new cock. With great show and gusto, she licks the length of it and flicks at the head with her tongue. She takes the dildo into her mouth and holds it there, stroking it with her hands. She looks up at you with the cock slowly sliding in and out of her small mouth. Her eyes are big and they twinkle. You run your fingers through Kristy’s hair the way I’ve done so many times with you, times when it’s been you kneeling and my cock in your mouth. My own very real cock is hard again. I reach between us and point my erection upward, then nestle it between the cheeks of your naked ass. I run my fingertips over your nipples and watch Kristy’s head bobbing, her hand sliding around the purple shaft.
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Categories: Erotica
Tags: anal, threesomes, erotic fiction, stories
Monday, September 15, 2008
Between Us, A Girl (Part 3 of 5)
All smiles and tumescence, the three of us collapse onto the comforter. (Someone’s going to need to wash the cover tomorrow.) The bed creaks a bit and stops. For a moment, no one moves and no one speaks. A car goes by outside… then silence. Actually, I take it back. It isn’t silence. I can hear us breathing. I hear three sets of lungs sucking in air and letting it out. I hear three tongues wetting three sets of dried lips. And for a second, I imagine I can hear your heart beating in your chest and Kristy’s in hers. But then I decide it’s only my heart I’m hearing, my heart beating in my own chest, my temple, and my cock. I get up and pour some more champagne in my glass. I take a drink and then pass the glass around.
Sitting back down on the bed, I put a pillow behind my back and sit up against the headboard. Everyone readjusts their positions around me. You curl yourself up at my left side, head on my chest, hand on my stomach. My left arm curls around you in a way it knows from a thousand nights. My hand caresses your butt, round and smooth and familiar in a good way. Only Kristy’s smell on your face and in your hair makes you different. You’re the same as always, except that perhaps you were attacked by a perfume girl while walking through Macy’s at the mall. Except this scent is one you wanted to sample. But she missed your wrist, my dear. Right scent, wrong pulse point.
Kristy is lying along my right side, but with her head down around my feet. She’s propped up on her right hand, her elbow planted in the mattress. Her chest is flushed and her cheeks are rosy. She blows hair out of her eyes and smiles at me, her toes grazing my underarm. I jump, spilling a few drops of champagne on my chest.
She laughs. “Oops! Sorry!”
I put my champagne down on the table. Without the champagne glass, I have a free hand. Kristy gives me a look oozing of “Duh!” smiles, and rolls over onto her stomach. She is nuzzled up against me. Her skin touches my skin all along my right leg. With her left hand, she absently touches, then strokes the top of my feet. I can’t resist the curve, the surface of her upturned calves. I run my hand over her calves, the backs of her thighs.
No one is talking, but a number of hands are quietly exploring whatever skin they find nearby. Every touch, every movement is slow and gentle. The pads of my fingers wander from your bottom, up along your sides, around under your arm to your breasts where they circle, and then slowly drift back to your bottom. Lazily, I repeat. You slide your body closer to the headboard, just enough so that my fingers can slip between your cheeks and find wetness. You squirm.
Kristy shifts back to her side. She leans over my legs and starts to caress your legs. At the same time, she opens her own legs, bending the top onr and bringing that foot up close to her other knee. This move is enough to expose her hairless pussy. And it is just close enough for me to reach with my right thumb… My thumb slips inside her pink lips, bringing out more juices to spread over the already slick skin, making the lips slippery and wet, massaging the lips now between my thumb and index finger. I close my eyes. I can’t walk and chew gum at the same time, but my hands can finger fuck two women at the same time. So alike, so different.
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Categories: Erotica
Tags: threesomes, erotic fiction, stories
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Between Us, A Girl (Part 2 of 5)
Walking up the driveway from the car, you and Kristy are holding hands. No one’s talking but the crickets. Moths quietly orbit the porch light as we walk up the steps. I go first, opening the storm door and unlocking the front door. I hold it open. You go in first, then Kristy. As she passes through, Kristy leans against me, stretches, and kisses me on the lips. Her hair smells of herbal shampoo and her lips are firm but soft. She turns and follows you into the house. I close the door, sigh, and turn out the outdoor light.
“I have to pee.” And with that, Kristy excuses herself and heads for the nearest bathroom.
You follow me to the kitchen. We exchange a mutual, wide-eyed, “What have we gotten ourselves into?” look and start to laugh. You lift your skirt quickly, flashing me. “I think I may have left my underwear in the car.”
I dramatically roll my eyes. “I really don’t think you’ll need them any more tonight. Just one thing though…”
“What’s that?”
“You slut!” I laugh as you throw a cloth napkin at me. “So,” I continue. “I guess I don’t have to ask you what you think of Kristy.”
“No, I guess not.” I’m wondering whether or not you’re blushing. I can’t tell in this light. “I was nervous that this wouldn’t work out, because… you know… I met her online and we only talked on the phone a couple of times. But she’s so funny and sexy. And she’s really making this all so easy, don’t you think?” You pause as you get out the champagne flutes. “What do you think of her?”
I’ve taken the champagne out of the refrigerator and removed the foil and the wire cage around the cork. I carefully twist the cork out. Pop! “I think I should let you pick out all of my girlfriends.”
“Josh, you don’t have girlfriends.”
“I know. I’m just saying that, if I did have girlfriends, your taste is clearly much better than…”
“Careful.”
“Present company excluded of course. Finding you was my one moment of good taste after a decade plus of whackos, weirdos, and really mediocre kissers.” I smile broadly.
“Convoluted, but better.” You kiss me. “Seriously, are you still OK with this?”
“Hey, show me a man who wouldn’t be OK with this. It’s not just your fantasy. Let’s go find our girl.”
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Categories: Erotica
Tags: threesomes, erotic fiction, stories
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Between Us, A Girl (Part 1 of 5)
She’s younger than you led me to believe.
Kristy arrives at the restaurant in the kind of exuberant rush that only comes from one’s twenties. Her face is a little flushed and she is having trouble deciding whether to put her extra large bag down before shaking our hands, or to shake our hands first, or perhaps even give us a hug and a kiss with the bag a less welcome fourth party. As you and I get up, she turns and the black leather bag strikes me firmly in the thigh. “Oops! Shit. Are you OK?” After a laughing apology, she puts the bag down, shakes my hand, and gives you a hug. She then plops down on the seat as if all the wind she has saved up for this occasion has been spent.
“What are we drinking?” she asks, patting you on the hand as the two of you scoot into the booth next to one another.
“Chardonnay,” I answer, sitting back down. The server brings over another wine glass, fills it, and is gone before any of us notice that we aren’t talking.
Silence. Awkward silence.
“Look! I brought a toothbrush!” Kristy says suddenly , pulling a red toothbrush from her bag. We all laugh, breaking the spell. Maybe now I can relax.
You raise your wine glass and propose a toast. “Here’s to new friends and new experiences!”
“And to things that go bump in the night!” adds Kristy, smiling.
Not to be outdone, I counter, “And to things that come in threes!”
“Threes? You mean like triplets?”
Everyone smiles and we drink. But then…
“Shortcakes. Or is that six?”
“Wise men.”
“Pawnbrokers’ balls!”
Over our salads, Kristy launches into a lengthy description of her position on Internet censorship, which touches on everything from her email habits to Renoir nudes on the Louvre web site to nude modeling for college art classes when she was still in school to playing with the libidos of the people in the class by walking over to them fully naked between poses and commenting on their work… and finally back to meeting you on the Net. She talks for what must be 15 minutes without stopping, moving from one topic to the next with an ease and rapidity that makes it all seem to make sense at the time. I look over at you and we both open our eyes wide as if to say, “Wow.” We smile and you reach across the table to hold my hand.
And so the dinner goes. We talk, laugh, drink more wine. We are sitting in one of those semi-circular booths where the seat wraps around the table. I am sitting on one end; you’re sitting on the other end; and Kristy is sitting back behind the table and between the two of us. There are plants and mirrors along the wall. There is just enough light for me to be able to tell that the tablecloth on our table is mint green.
For much of dinner, I feel as if I’ve split into two people. There’s the me that’s continuing to participate in the conversations we’re having — the current one that you started having something to do with movies. But then there’s this other me that’s watching, studying all three of us from some place away from the table. Some part of me is looking at all of us as actors in a play and it’s an odd feeling. What would that other me say about the two of you? I know you bought this deep blue dress especially for tonight. You wouldn’t let me see it until tonight. When I saw you in the restaurant lobby before dinner, it stopped me in my tracks. The dress isn’t overly dressy, but it shows off your legs and your beautiful shoulders. And the color is so nice with your auburn hair. What earrings are you wearing? The red glass ones from last summer’s arts festival. Poor man’s rubies.
And then there’s Kristy. She arrived wearing a short cotton slip dress, white with small flowers, and a denim jacket. On her feet are white socks and a pair of clunky black shoes. Her hair is short and dark. In this light, I can’t tell what color her eyes are. Her earrings are silver, with one extra loop passing through an extra hole in one ear. But she’s not such a rebel that she doesn’t shave her legs and pits. She’s not as curvy as you, but she’s definitely not boyish either. Before she sat down, I could tell she had nice round hips and in silhouette her breasts seem full and large for her frame. The two of you make an interesting pair.
“Can I have a bite of that?” Kristy asks you during the main course. “I love trout almondine.” But really, I think to myself, what she wants to do is play with your space. She scoots over next to you as you get a piece of fish and some sauce onto your fork. You don’t have to reach the fork out to her, as Kristy leans across the left side of your body toward the fork in your right hand. This move puts her head inches from your face— her hair close enough to smell, her cheek close to your lips— and her upper right arm just brushing your left breast. I take a sip of wine and study your face. Kristy looks up to see that I am watching her and winks.
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Categories: Erotica
Tags: threesomes, erotic fiction, stories
