NYC - Part 7

NOTE: The NYC Series starts with Face to Face. If you haven't been following along, you may want to start there.

* * *

Every muscle in her body ached, every inch of her felt bruised. Some parts probably were—the parts that had been pinched and bitten at least. She had a vague recollection of being spanked.

Emily smiled as she stretched, her back bowing in a delicious arc. She felt alive. She’d never been so used, so abused. It felt wonderful.

The weekend would end tomorrow and she would go back home, return to her mundane life of self-pleasure. At least her fantasies with Steve were now reality. Night after night she’d thought of him as she masturbated, imagined the delightful things he’d do to her. Her fantasies hadn’t come close; reality was so much better.

She looked down at Sarah who lay nestled between her legs, her head resting on a thigh. Their eyes met and held; desire slammed through her fast and hard. She found it curious that she was so attracted to Sarah; was thrilled each time the woman moaned, ached to make her cum again.

Steve returned from the bathroom and Emily glanced over at him, looked back at Sarah who got the message.

Sarah stood up, pulled Emily with her. “Lie down, Steve.”

He spread out on the bed without hesitation, folded his arms behind his head, a boyish grin on his face.

“Do what you will, ladies.”

Emily had a slight twinge of regret that she was sharing. She quickly shook off the feeling, wary of entertaining any notion that this could be more than a weekend tryst. He wasn’t hers to keep, though she realized now that she wanted more. Never mind, she told herself, he was hers now. And if she had to share, so be it. After all Sarah was more than pleasurable to look at.

And fuck.

Emily pushed his leg open, bent forward, as Sarah did the same. Together, tongues stroked up and down his cock, mouths meeting at the top, sliding down in unison; their moans punctuated by Steve’s sighs.

Sarah nestled between his legs, sucked his balls while Emily rotated her tongue around the head. His hips thrust up, fucking Emily’s mouth. His hand pushed down her head, guiding her movement, slowing it down.

“Easy, baby. That’s it. Nice and slow.”

His fingers pushed between her thighs, slid easily between wet folds, rotated around her clit. She moaned against his cock.

“You want more, don’t you?”

Emily glanced up at him. “I always want more. I’m greedy that way.”

He laughed. “I know. It’s what I like about you. You’re greedy and insatiable.” He yanked her across him ravaged her mouth with his, his tongue strong and hard. “Like me.”

His hands cupped her face and for a moment, she was shocked when she felt fingers press between her thighs, stroke her clit in a slow, easy rhythm. She looked down to see Sarah, intent on sucking Steve’s cock, eyes closed in bliss, one hand massaging Emily’s pussy.

She turned back to Steve, her hungry mouth taking his. Oh yes, Emily thought, leaving would inevitably break her

The NYC series continues here


NYC - Part 6

NOTE: The NYC Series starts with Face to Face. If you haven't been following along, you may want to start there.

* * *

Emily took her time crawling up the bed. After all, if it was her, she’d need a moment to recuperate after that orgasm.

Hovering on all fours, she traced lazy kisses up Sarah’s thigh, stopped a moment to drag her tongue across the glistening labia.

When Sarah moaned, Emily smiled into the wet pussy, pushed the thighs apart, eager to make this woman cum again.

“Not yet, doll.” Sarah wrapped a leg around her waist and flipped her over with ease, draped herself over Emily’s long body. Her mouth was hard and eager this time, her tongue strong and sure.

Emily glanced up at Steve, who stood next to the bed, fisting his cock in lazy strokes.

“You want to join in?” she asked.

He smiled at them. “There’s plenty of time. I just want to watch for now.”

Sarah dipped her head down, wrapped her lips around Emily’s nipple and sucked. “Tell me what your girl likes, Steve. Better yet…show me.”

The lascivious grin on his face had Emily’s heart pounding and her pussy throbbing with need.

“She likes her nipples flicked.”

Sarah nodded. “She did that to me.” As she clamped onto Emily’s nipple, she pressed Steve’s head down to feast on the other. Emily arched up as both breasts were assaulted, lust shooting down between her thighs.

“Oh God!” She pressed both heads against her chest, her hips rocking, wanting to be filled, needing release. “Please,” she begged.

Steve shifted until he was leaning over her and held Emily’s legs open as Sarah scooted down to kneel between her thighs. His sure fingers manipulated her lips, spread them wide as Sarah’s tongue stroked from her ass up to her clit.

“Jesus!” Emily’s hips thrust up to meet Sarah’s hungry mouth.

Sarah clamped onto Emily’s wet pussy, her mouth open, pointed tongue against her clit, working in tight circles.

“That’s it,” said Steve, his hands holding Emily open. “Put your fingers inside her. Two fingers. Slow now, easy.”

The pressure was unbearable. Sarah’s skillful mouth on her cunt, Steve’s calloused hands spreading her wide and his gravelly voice giving orders.

Steve flicked his chin at her. “Make her cum.” He said it as though he were giving both women permission to finally enjoy the moment. It almost made her cum right then.

“Fuck her faster,” he growled. “Faster. Harder. She likes it hard.”

“Yes. Yes.” Emily’s head rock back and forth as her heart pounded and the intensity grew. Sarah’s slammed her fingers into her, brushing that sweet spot on each stroke. She arched as the orgasm tore through her. “Don’t stop.” Her body convulsed as aftershocks continued to ripple through her body.

When the tremors subsided, Emily lay on the bed, a satisfied smile on her face, Sarah curled up beside her. Steve knelt next to her head and she tilted her face, traced her lips along his cock, licked the bitter precum that clung to the slit in the head. She moaned, no longer surprised that she was ready for him.

He looked down at her and grinned.

“My turn.”

The NYC series continues here


NYC - Part 5

NOTE: The NYC Series starts with Face to Face. If you haven't been following along, you may want to start there.

* * *

Emily twisted her hair into a loose knot, secured it at the top of her head with a claw clip. Although the musky air of sex was alluring, she needed to take a shower, freshen up a bit.

“Are you joining me?” she called out from under the hot spray, groaning as the water needled into her skin.

Her mind wandered, imagined rubbing her hands all over Steve’s hard wet muscles, and she ached for more. Her soapy fingers brushed her pussy, wet with water and arousal, and circled her swollen clit. She leaned against the cool tile, opened her legs, pulled on one nipple.

“You need to come out here,” Steve called back. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Does it involve an orgasm?”

“Definitely.”

“Be right out!”

She couldn’t resist a few more strokes—just to heighten the tension, she told herself—before rinsing off and towelling dry.

She unclipped her hair, didn’t bother to put on the bath robe, and walked into the suite.

A woman—mid-twenties, Emily guessed—leaned against the dresser. She wore a short snug dress in killer red and three-inch black heels. Blond hair swung down in a long bob and her eyes danced with mischief.

Emily didn’t bother to cover herself, but glanced over at Steve, who lay sprawled on the bed, a sheet barely covering his waist. “Who’s your friend?” she asked.

“This is Sarah.” Steve gestured with his glass of bourbon. “I thought you might like to eat something different.”

The woman shifted and Emily knew it was to offer a better look at the small, perky breasts, the long toned legs.

“Steve said you were visiting for the weekend.” Her voice was soft and sultry. “Said you might want to take in some sights.”

Emily smiled, her gaze taking in the small breasts, the round ass. “I must say, the view is gorgeous.”

Sarah dipped her head. “Thank you, though I think I’m overdressed.”

The woman’s slow smile made something shift inside Emily, something she recognized all too well. She licked her lips, already wondering what to touch first. “My experience is limited,” Emily said, somehow needing to apologize. “I’ve only done this once, and I was really drunk,”

Sarah smiled. “I’ll teach you.”

She held out her hand and Emily took it, moving into the embrace. The kiss was soft and tender, not at all like kissing Steve, who was much more aggressive. Emily tilted her head, ran her fingers into Sarah’s hair, pushing power into the kiss.

“Don’t fake it for me,” Emily said when Sarah moaned.

“I wasn’t faking. For a first-timer, you’re very confident.”

Emily ran a hand down Sarah’s back, stroked her ass in small circles. “I’m just horny.” She ran her tongue down the woman’s throat, nipped when Sarah tipped her head back. Her hand cupped a small breast—so much different than her own—pinched the hungry nipple. “I want to see all of you. You feel so soft and yet hard.”

She tugged the zipper, let the dress fall around Sarah’s feet. A tiny triangle of pale blue silk, already wet, covered her crotch. Emily flicked her thumbs over hard nipples that poked through filmy lace, rolled them between her fingers. Panting now, Sarah unhooked the bra, let it drop to the floor, and pushed the small tits forward.

Emily didn’t hesitate. She dipped her head down, clamped her mouth onto one exposed breast as her hand worked the other. Her tongue skimmed back and forth over the nipple—a technique that Steve used on her—flicking with lightning speed. When Sarah’s hips pressed against her, she spun her around, pressed her back onto the bed. She smiled when the bronze thighs quivered as her fingers pulled down the silk thong.

Steve scooted across the bed, shifted until he was next to Sarah’s head. She reached up, stroked his thigh and he sighed.

“Tell me if I’m doing this wrong,” Emily said to him.

“Just do what feels good to you. If you like it, she’ll like it.” He ran his hand over Sarah’s hair, kissed her mouth, then took her hand, wrapped it around his cock, guiding her strokes.

Emily crawled up the bed, pressed Sarah’s thighs open. “I can’t wait. I want to taste you.”

She pressed open her thighs, and settled on her belly between Sarah’s legs, flicked her tongue up the slit, relished the sweet salty taste. With her thumbs, she open the labia, spreading the lips wide and pressed her open mouth against the soaking cunt, her tongue swirling around the clit.

“I don’t have to teach you a thing,” Sarah panted, one hand wrapped in Emily’s hair, the other stroking Steve’s cock.

Emily glanced up, as Steve shifted onto his knees. Sarah’s greedy mouth opened and Steve hissed when she scraped her teeth along his cock. Hands behind him, head tipped back, Steve thrust forward, fucking Sarah’s mouth as she fingered his balls.

“That is so fucking hot. I didn’t think watching someone suck you off would be such a turn on.”

Sarah glanced down at her. “You want some.”

Emily shook her head, pushed Sarah’s legs wider. “I have what I want here. You enjoy.”

“I will.” And Sarah’s head dropped down to the bed when Emily eased two fingers into her cunt as she continued to suck the hard clit. “Oh! Fuck!”

“Yeah,” Emily said. “I like that too. It always makes me cum.”

Emily pulled back the hood, wrapped her lips around the round nub and sucked, while her fingers pistoned in and out of Sarah’s wet cunt.

“Yes, yes,” Sarah managed to pant. “Oh god, yes!” Her hips rocked faster, breath came in quick short pants. Emily shifted to her knees and drilled her fingers like a jackhammer.

“FUCK!” Sarah contracted around her fingers, her hips bucking, Emily revelling in the power of making this woman orgasm.

Emily slowed the speed, kissed the inside of her those delicious thighs, until the spasms stopped.

Sounding a little bit drunk, her hand still wrapped around Steve’s cock, Sarah let out a small laugh. “Well, I’d call that beginner’s luck.”

Emily shrugged, sucking Sarah’s juices from her fingers. “I know what I like.”

Sarah patted the pillow beside her. “Come up here and tell what you’d like me to do to you.”

The NYC series continues here


NYC - Part 4

NOTE: The NYC Series starts with Face to Face. If you haven't been following along, you may want to start there.

* * *

The debate on going out for dinner or ordering room service didn’t last long. After all, leaving the room meant putting on clothes. It was enough of a hardship for Steve to wrap a towel around his waist to answer the door and sign for the food.

Sprawled out on the bed, they fed each other bits of calamari and sweet potato fritters. A half-empty bottle of Bombay Sapphire was nestled in a cooler of ice, two martini glasses—empty now—sat on one bedside table.

They touched and teased, kissed and fondled while they ate. And when they were full, they dozed.

He was a cuddler, she discovered. Not something she was used to, since she was a sprawler, herself. But having his warm, hard body pressed against her back—one possessive arm wrapped around her waist, his hand cupping a breast—was peaceful and comforting.

She dreamt of him, as she did most nights, but now the dreams weren’t just a fantasy she concocted while fingering herself, but based on reality. The afternoon of sex played over in her sleep, his hands roaming over her, that eager mouth possessing.

She was wet and needy when she woke, pleased to find his fingers already rolling a nipple. His lips teased the back of her neck, teeth nipped. She’d never told him, but it was a sensitive spot for her and it put all her sensors on alert.

His hand moved down her belly, fingered the tiny triangle of fur. “You left this for me,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Grew it back for you,” she corrected. “You said you don’t like clean-shaven.” She already planned on waxing it off when she went home, but for him, for this weekend, she’d left it.

“But it’s like an arrow,” he mumbled against her throat, his hand sliding down, fingers opening her lips. “It guides me. How would I find this wonderful pussy, otherwise?”

Her dream was enough foreplay and she was ready, needed immediate release. Emily pressed her hand against his, forced his fingers into her cunt. “I’ll show you the way.”

She guided his fingers in and out, tried to set a fast pace, but his fingers were stronger—so fucking strong—and he slowed her down.

“Morning sex should be slow,” he whispered. “Not rushed. You don’t even want to fully wake up. And when you come,” he pulled his fingers out, rubbed them over her clit in slow, hypnotic circles, “ it should be slow and heavy, satisfying, but leave you wanting more.”

“Mmmm,” she moaned, as his fingers built her up, dragged her with him. “Yes. Yes.” She floated through the orgasm as her cunt throbbed.

Steve pushed his fingers into her, making slow, easy strokes. “See?”

She understood now. He’d let her have control last night but today was his. She accepted it, let the current build inside her, drifted with it.

“That’s it,” he said, when her hips began to rock. “That’s it baby. No, no, slow down, yes, that’s it.”

The next orgasm washed over her, slow and easy, released in a full-body shudder. She pressed her hand against his, forcing his fingers deeper. “More,” she begged.

“As you wish.”

He lifted her leg, pushed his cock against her. She was so wet, he simply slid into her.

“That’s what I want,” she moaned.

She let him lead, let him set the easy pace, let him drag her up toward blissful release. His hips bumped against her ass as his cock slid in and out of her cunt. She needed it faster, harder. He shoved her hand away when she made to rub her clit.

“I want to come,” she pouted. Jesus, she needed to come!

“I know you do, just relax and enjoy this. You don’t like what I’m doing?”

“I like what you’re doing very much, but I really liked what you did last night.”

“Let’s try this.” He lifted her leg, swung it back over his hip. He didn’t increase the tempo, but the new position amplified his thrusting and he seemed to sink deeper.

She closed her eyes and smiled. “Yes, that’s nice.”

He reach around and stroked her clit. “How nice?”

She hooked an arm around his neck as his fingers circled faster. “Very nice.” His cock maintained an easy pace but his fingers rotated around her clit faster and faster, building the pressure.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” She chanted it over and over until she came with a loud grunt.

He continued to thrust into her until she felt him spasm, his warmth filling her.

She turned her head, kissed his mouth for the first time that day. “I don’t mean to criticize,” she started, and stopped when he stared at her. His look was intense, almost angry. Under different circumstances, she would have found it intimidating.

She fixed a serious look on her face. “But I only came three times.”

He rolled onto her, nipped at her shoulder, made mock growling noises that had her giggling. “Well, then, we’ll just have to do something about that.”

The NYC series continues here


NYC - Part 3

NOTE: The NYC Series starts with Face to Face. If you haven't been following along, you may want to start there.

* * *

“On your knees, soldier.”

Steve complied, seemed amused at her tone. He wouldn’t be smirking for long, Emily thought.

She shifted, lay on her back, scooted up until her head was between his knees, nestled just beneath his cock. She dragged her nails along his testicles—just a light scraping—and he groaned his approval. She sucked one in, her hands reaching up to stroke his ass.

Stretched out before him, she spread her legs, her pussy still glistening. He leaned forward, his hands reaching out to open her thighs, but she slapped him back.

“No touching,” she said.

Steve sucked in a breath. “Evil bitch.”

“You’ll thank me later.”

“I’ll punish you later.”

She licked the palm of one hand, wrapped it around his cock. “I like the sound of that.”

With her other hand, she reached down, slipped two fingers into her cunt, pushed them in and out. The rhythmic sucking sound was punctuated by the slurping of her mouth and Steve’s slow, quiet cursing.

“Fuck,” he said. “Fuck. Fuck.” His hips rocked with each word, matching the easy tempo of her hand in her cunt.

Emily shifted, nudged him back onto the bed. He relaxed against the pillows, wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked.

“I said no touching.”

Steve lifted his hands in surrender, smiled when she straddled his hips, lowered onto him.

“This isn’t for you right now,” she said. She pumped once, twice, then a third slow stroke. “This is for me.”

She lifted her hips, scooted down to settle between his thighs.

She dragged her tongue the length of his cock, making greedy slurping sounds. “Our flavors blend well.” She gripped the shaft while her tongue circled the head. Her lips wrapped around the tip, sucked, while her hand stroked. His hips thrust up to meet her.

“Let me fuck you,” he said.

“In a minute.” She was enjoying the control, something she seldom had. And she wanted him to come, wanted to taste him.

“Now.”

He moved like lightning—grabbed her chin, flipped her over onto her belly, yanked her hips, pulling her ass toward him. With his knees, he kicked her legs open, reached around and found her clit. His fingers worked the swollen nub until she whimpered.

“Now,” he repeated, and thrust into her. It was hard, it was brutal and she loved it. The orgasm was instant.

His fingers never stopped, continued to work her clit. “I’m not done yet.” He slammed into her over and over. It was sensory overload and she had trouble breathing. Her body reacted on its own, reaching for the next orgasm as his cock slammed in and out of her cunt.

“I can’t,” she begged, her face pressed into the pillow. Her legs quivered and she could no longer hold herself up.

“One more.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll make you.”

He sucked his thumb, saturated it, then circled the pink bud that teased him, seemed to beg him. Her reaction was immediate.

She pressed back against him. “Yes. Oh, god, yes.”

He only managed three strokes before she convulsed around him.

“My turn,” he said.

Not giving her a chance to recover, he grabbed her hips with both hands and drilled into her, slamming against her wet cunt a dozen times before he finally let himself come.

The NYC series continues here


NYC - Part 2

NOTE: The NYC Series starts with Face to Face. If you haven't been following along, you may want to start there.

* * *

Her pussy still throbbing from the orgasm, Emily let him lead her to the bed.

“You’re still dressed,” she said, tugging at Steve’s belt.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He shoved her back onto the bed, yanked her legs down until her ass hovered at the edge of the mattress.

“Mmm.” He dropped to his knees, pushed her thighs apart.

“Wait!” Emily panted.

“No.” It was fierce, it was commanding and it was fucking hot.

“Oh, Jesus,” was all she managed when his mouth clamped onto her pussy.

Steve pushed her knees back, opening her even more. “So. Fucking. Good.” Each word was punctuated with a hard suck that pulled her clit into his mouth as he rotated his tongue around it.

“Yes, you are.” She ran her hands along his face, held them against his jaw, as his mouth worked her cunt. “You make my pussy feel so good,” she groaned.

“Mmmm,” was all he replied.

With her fingers, she spread her lips for him, opened her legs wider.

“Yes.” He pushed two fingers into her cunt, held them there for a moment.

“Fuck me,” she begged, her hips pressing against his hand. “Fuck me.”

She’d thought the first time was aggressive, the way he’d eaten her pussy like a starved animal, but now it was fervent, almost brutal. And she couldn’t get enough.

He rammed his fingers into her, thrusting in and out, the slapping sound driving her closer to the edge. With his other hand, he pulled back the hood, exposed her clit to suck on it. Every nerve was on alert and the build-up was like nothing she’d ever experienced.

“Oh god. Oh yes. OH FUCK!”

The orgasm left her limp and panting. And wanting more.

She lay on the bed, still spread open, watched him undress; he never took his eyes off hers as he removed his clothing. She broke the connection when he dropped his jeans, her eyes dipping down to watch his cock spring up.

“You’re commando.” She smiled as she inched up the bed, pleased that her legs still worked.

He crawled toward her, hovered over her on hands and knees. “Since I was a teenager.”

He sat up, his legs straddling her hips, rubbed the tip of his cock. He spread the bead of pre-cum, then rubbed his cock between her legs, sliding it up and down the soaking slit.

He looked up at her, gave her that boyish grin she’d only seen on her laptop. “My turn.”

The NYC series continues here


NYC - Part 1

NOTE: The NYC Series starts with Face to Face. If you haven't been following along, you may want to start there.

* * *

Nerves ripped through her like an electrical shock.

For more than a year, Emily had texted, emailed and phoned Steve. It started with sexting, which quickly moved to phone sex and now they regularly met on Skype to masturbate.

He was easy to talk to, made her laugh, and she loved his dirty mind. And in a few minutes, she was going to finally meet him.

She knew he never made his bed, so she had pushed the sheets to one side; tuned the hotel clock radio to a jazz station, set low.

She ran a hand down the short silk dressing gown she wore. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it, it wasn’t like she planned on wearing it long. In fact, she wasn’t planning on wearing much at all this weekend.

The quiet knock had her nipples puckering and her pussy slick with need. She let the gown slide off her shoulders and pool around her feet as she opened the door.

Steve’s easy grin froze. “Jesus Christ.” He was exactly how she’d imagined. Big and strong, he filled the doorway; excited energy rolled off him.

“Hi handsome.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

She waited until he closed the door before she launched herself at him. He caught her, his mouth greedy against hers, his tongue teasing. Those wide hands she’d seen stroke his cock, now stroked her body, seemed to be everywhere at once. She was a bundle of need, teetering on the edge of release.

“I need you inside me. Now.” She had done nothing but think about this since they’d made plans to meet. She’d been horny for days and no amount of self-pleasure could ease the pressure.

“Let me do this.” He dropped to his knees, pushed open her thighs.

With his thumbs, he spread open swollen lips, circled the first knuckle of a finger inside her; just the tip, just a tease. “Jesus, you’re wet.”

She whimpered, tried to lower herself, desperate for relief, but he held her up. “Not yet,” he said.

His fingers kept her spread wide as he kissed her thighs, sucked her labia. She tried to shift so that he could suck on her clit, but he moved away each time.

“Steve!” She was whimpering now and her legs shook. Head tipped back, pressed against the hallway wall, her hips rocked against air begging him for release. “Please. Please.”

“That’s what I want to hear. I want to hear you beg.”

He cupped her ass in both hands pulled her cunt into his face. His head moved from side to side, rocked up and down, as his tongue lapped with greed. It twirled around her clit, thrust inside of her.

He was so much more aggressive than she had imagined and though it frightened her on some level, she was drawn to the darkness. She opened her legs wider, inviting more.

“That’s it baby, open up for me.”

He sucked her clit into his mouth, pushed two fingers into her cunt, curling them to tap that most sensitive spot just inside.

She couldn’t breathe and the need to bear down was unbearable. It was too much and her body bowed back as the orgasm tore through her.

“Fuck! Me!”

He caught her before she collapsed.

“That’s next,” he said, as he pulled her to the bed.

The NYC series continues here


Face to Face

The self-imposed sabbatical had dragged on far longer than she had planned. Two months—three tops—she’d said.

It was now six.

She was more than a little depressed about it. She tried to recall the details of her last tryst, but the memories were fuzzy and not worth the effort. After all, he’d only made her come once.

Masturbating was beginning to lose its effect. Oh, sure, it relieved the pressure, but having a warm body on top of hers, calloused hands running over soft skin, a hot mouth clamped on her clit…

Jesus! She had to stop thinking about it. She’d already replaced her vibrator. Twice.

She didn’t want a relationship, she just wanted to get laid. And she knew exactly who to call.

She sat in her living room, talking to her laptop, drinking in the smiling face that filled the screen. The air in her apartment was sharp with the smell of sex. She felt somewhat relieved, but she needed more.

Steve leaned forward, his easy grin enhanced by a narrow white soul patch. She wondered how soft it was, whether it would tickle or scrape. She couldn’t decide which she wanted more.

“What are you doing this weekend?” It was a casual enough question, one she’d asked every time they spoke, every time they had cyber-sex.

“Just hanging with friends.” He popped open a can of beer. “You?”

“I was thinking I need a vacation.”

Steve leaned back in his chair, his cock now flaccid, though a few minutes ago, it was erect while he'd fisted it for her. She liked watching him come, liked that he talked dirty to her until she did.

He took a pull from his beer. “Good idea. Somewhere south?”

“No. I was thinking north.” Throbbing again, she sucked two fingers into her mouth then brought them down to her pussy, groaned. “I haven’t been to New York.”

Steve sat up then. “Here? You’re coming here?”

“Is that a problem?” Her fingers swirled around her clit and she imagined his tongue licking her, his greedy mouth sucking the swollen nub.

“Fuck no.” Steve sat back and stroked his cock, once-again ready. “This weekend?”

She increased the volume so she could hear the wet sucking sounds his hand made as it stroked.

“Saturday.” Her voice was breathy now and her hips pumped, greedy for more.

“Perfect,” he said, rotating his hand once around the head, then wrapping it around the shaft, he stroked with lightning speed. “What time are you coming?”

She opened her thighs wider, rammed two fingers into her cunt, pistoned like a jackhammer.

“Now!” She threw her head back as the orgasm shot through her, her hips thrusting up as she imagined Steve fucking her.

When she finally lifted her head, he was sitting in his chair, wiping himself down with a towel.

“That was fucking awesome,” he said.

She grinned at him. “Wait until Saturday.”

The NYC series continues here


Good Morning

I feel the tug of morning, just before sunrise, when he wraps a possessive arm around my waist, reaches up to cup my breast. Though I am not quite awake, my body responds, always ready for him, always wanting.

His hand travels down my hip, dips down between my legs. I spread them for him and he groans against my throat.

“You’re already wet.” His voice is slurred with sleep.

“I was dreaming of you.”

His finger swirls around my clit sending delicious shock waves through me. I press my ass against him and his cock slips easily between my legs, sliding against my slick pussy.

“Is this what you were dreaming of?”

“You were inside of me. Fucking me.”

“Like this?”

He presses into me, just the head, but it feels so good and I want more, need more.

“Deeper.” It was supposed to sound like a command, but it comes out more like a request, like begging.

He pushes all the way into me. “Like this?”

He fills me, slides in and out with slow easy strokes, and I shudder. He feels so fucking good.

“Faster.” Now it’s a command.

He pulls out, rolls over, trapping me beneath him, shifts up onto his knees. He grips my hips with both hands, yanks my ass up in the air and plunges, slamming his cock into me at a frenetic speed. Each slap brings me closer, teetering on the edge.

My fingers dig into the mattress, teeth bite into the pillow. The pressure is unbearable and I need release, need it from him. I groan when he brings his other hand to my cunt, saturates it—he knows what I want and it makes me even more wet just knowing what he’ll do.

He takes his wet thumb and teases my ass, circling the eager rosebud until I can do nothing but whimper. My hips have a mind of their own and rock; my cunt rides his cock and I press back against his thumb.

“Please,” I whimper. “Please.”

He presses his thumb into my ass and it sends me flying over the edge. Pain slams into pleasure and it is beyond my control. It’s what I was waiting for, what I needed. I convulse around him, panting his name, and I feel him release with me, his warmth filling me as he cums inside me.

We collapse onto the bed, his cock still inside me, not quite flaccid yet, but twitching with new life, already eager for more.

“Good morning,” he whispers.

Bedside Manners

She doesn’t just walk, she struts.

As her hips sway, the silk dressing gown flutters open, revealing golden skin and long, long legs. A casual shrug, and the gown slips off one shoulder, exposing one perky breast, the dark nipple already hard and hungry.

She stops next to the bed, tips her head then smiles, pulls her index finger into her mouth all the way to the palm. I know her tongue is circling the tip, like she does when she takes my cock, sucks the head while she fists the shaft.

The finger comes out, glistening with saliva, and takes an insidious path down her body, stopping to circle the exposed nipple. She kneads and pinches, her eyes glazing over with pleasure, then brings her hand down to her hip.

It dips behind the gown and I groan. She’s such a fucking tease!

“Show me.” She knows it’s a command, not a request, and she quickly drops the gown. The tiny triangle of dark fur points to treasure.

I nod my approval. “Better. Open up for me.”

She sets one foot on the bed, her thighs spread wide, exposing swollen lips, greasy with need.

“I need you inside me,” she begs.

I reach up, press my middle finger into her wet pussy. She sighs, clamps around me. “More,” she whispers.

I withdraw, return with two and she smiles. “Yes.” She rides my hand, an expression of pure ecstasy on her face, as she tugs her nipples. “Yes. Yes.”

When my thumb rubs against her clit, she cries out, spasms around my fingers. “Fuck, yes!”

She pulls my hand to her mouth, sucks her juices from my fingers.

Keeping her eyes on mine, she straddles my hips, lowers her wet pussy over my cock. As she rides up and down, her mouth imitates her hips, fucking my fingers while she fucks my cock.

Blackout

Rain sliced through the darkness, pummeled the windows as though it would shatter the double-pane glass. Inside the cottage, a fire blazed in the great room—the only source of light, save for the big-screen television.

A heavy quilt covered the wood floor where Amanda and Frank lay sprawled watching television. Half-empty wine glasses lay within reach, the popcorn bowl was emptied long ago. With the thunder and lightning outside, it seemed appropriate to watch a slasher film.

Amanda shook her head, snorted in disgust. “Why do they stop running and turn back? Have they never watched a horror film? It’s disgusting. An embarrassment to all womankind.”

Frank angled his head. “At least she has big tits.”

“Please! If big tits were your thing, we wouldn’t have made it past the first date.”

“Good thing I like them small and sensitive.” He yanked her over to him, cupped her right breast. He grinned when she moaned.

“Stop it,” she said, though she arched against him. “The blonde’s about to get killed.”

As if on cue, a knife-wielding sociopath ran out from the trees as the music rose to a deafening pitch.

Frank nibbled on Amanda’s neck. “There she goes.”

With a crack of thunder, the room went into complete darkness. The only light came from the fireplace; the only sound was the crackling fire.

“Uh oh.” Amanda went still. She had never outgrown her fear of thunderstorms and, by consequence, the dark. “Now what?”

“I’ll keep you safe.” Frank’s voice was deep and breathy next to her ear. His hand moved under her shirt, flicked open the front clasp of her bra, then kneaded her breast. His thumb and forefinger pinched the hungry nipple.

Amanda turned into him. “Oh. Well. In that case.”

She reached down to cup his cock, but he pushed her back. “Not yet.”

Frank pulled up her shirt, flicked aside the open bra and clamped onto an eager breast. Amanda arched as need rushed through her. “Yes!”

Frank’s hand skimmed down her belly, beneath the elastic of her cotton shorts, under the silk panties. His fingers made small circles on her clit, matching the circles he made with his tongue on her nipple.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he said.

The pressure was unbearable. She needed to wrap around him, needed him inside her.

“Now!” she panted.

Frank rammed two fingers into her, and she convulsed around him as his fingers pistoned in and out, dragging her back up for another.

Bar Scene

Eric sits in the hotel bar, his back to the polished mahogany counter, and watches the crowd of nubile bodies bump against one another in a timeless ritual. He considers trolling the room, finding someone to pass the time, but then he sees her.

It was worth the wait.

She walks across the room with an easy gait that has many men—and more than a few women—turning to appreciate the fine craftsmanship of the gods. Auburn hair cascades down her back in waves. Hips—barely covered in a short black dress—sway in invitation. Long, bare legs that seem to go on for miles, look even longer in three-inch stilettos. He knows too well how it feels to have those strong legs wrapped around him.

She takes the stool next to him, orders a dry martini. He bites back a smile when a man—can’t be more than twenty-five, Eric figures—wearing an expensive suit, positions himself next to her. This should be good, he thinks.

“Can I buy you a drink?” the Suit asks.

She cups her martini—red lacquered nails contrast against the clear glass—and lifts skewered olives to her lips. Her tongue darts out, circles the rim of the pimento, then plump lips suckle the green mound. She holds it for a moment, allows the olive to peek out once, then sucks it in, rolling it in her mouth as she keeps her eyes locked with the Suit’s.

Eric can’t help but pity the boy, who’s Adam’s apple goes into convulsions.

The woman tips her head. “That’s very kind of you.” Her voice all but purrs. She offers her mega-watt smile and Eric is certain the kid will fall over. “But I’m with someone.”

The kid’s face falls, he stammers an apology, then walks away.

“That was cruel.” Eric continues to scan the room.

“How so?” she asks.

“Come on. That poor kid’s dick is hard as rock right now.”

She grins, sucks another olive into her mouth. She reaches over, glides her hand up Eric’s thigh, cups the bulge in his pants. She smiles. “So is yours.”

He reaches over in what appears to be a casual gesture, yanks her thighs apart and pushes his hand under her skirt. She gasps when his fingers press against the thin silk of her panties, already wet with anticipation and greed.

With his thumb, he tears the fabric and rams two fingers into her wet cunt.

“I’m not the only one who’s ready.”

He pistons once, twice, then grins when she convulses around him. He keeps his eyes on hers as he puts his dripping fingers into his mouth, sucks noisily.

“Shall we carry on in our room?” he asks.

“Oh, god, yes.”

Living Room Sex

He dropped onto the sofa, pulled her down with him, shifted her until she was straddling him. He yanked her hips, pressed his erection against her clit, sending shock waves through her.

Oh yes, this is what she wanted, what she needed.

She cupped his face with both hands, pressed her mouth against his. Her tongue pushed through his lips, searched out his. His hands clamped around her waist and she rocked, ground her cunt against his hard cock, let that familiar heat coil between her legs, spread throughout her body. He matched her tempo, thrusting up to meet her. As she rocked, her hands skimmed over his shoulders, enjoyed how his muscles flexed beneath her touch.

Heat within her grew to an inferno and she skimmed her lips along his throat, nibbled just below his ear. She moaned as the pressure built.

“Don’t stop, Simon, don’t stop. Yes! Yes!”

With one hand holding her waist, Simon tilted her back, yanked up her tee, shoved aside the lacy cup of her bra, clamped onto the erect nipple. The moment he sucked on the hard nub, the fire that burned inside her exploded.

"Fuck, yes!" She bowed back as the orgasm ripped through her.