Fang Banged

Content Advisory: Erotic, Menage

The half empty bottle of wine sat on the table. Lila stared at him and refilled her glass. “I’m a little nervous.”

“You don’t have to do this. It was your idea and you can always change your mind.” Scott ran his finger around the rim of his glass before downing the rest of his wine.

“I want to. I’ve just never done it with another person. I mean a third person. I’m not sure what to do.”

“You’ll like Lizzie. And she knows her way around both men and women.”

Lila laughed. “Is she a lesbian?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Just equal opportunity. If she’s attracted to a man or a woman, she’ll have sex with them.”

“You’re okay with this, right?” Lila licked her lips and sipped her wine.

“Lila, I’m a guy. I’d have to be crazy or gay to turn down being with two women at once.” Just the thought of watching Lila and Lizzie had his cock already straining against his fly and his fangs ached. The two went hand in hand, the bloodlust and the need to come.

“And, this won’t change anything between us?”

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “You know I love you. This is just sex. That’s all. Doesn’t change how we feel, okay?”

Lila nodded and squeezed his hand just as the doorbell rang. Lila’s roommate was in Europe for the summer so the only person they were expecting was Lizzie.

Scott opened the door and was immediately assaulted by Lizzie’s scent. He knew her so well.

Her blonde hair was in pigtails and her head was cocked to the side.

He took quick inventory of her short skirt and guessed she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. When Lizzie wanted to fuck, she made it as easy as possible.

She bit her lip and smiled. “Hey, it’s good to see you.” She hugged him and whispered in his ear. “I can smell her already.”

A big part of being a vampire was the ability to pick up scents that humans couldn’t. Sometimes he had to concentrate to separate things in his mind. Lizzie smelled like wild flowers and booze while Lila smelled like baby powder and blood.

Scott hugged her back. “She’s delicious.”

A kitchen chair scraped across the tile and Lila appeared in the foyer. She stood beside Scott and stuck her hand out toward Lizzie.

“Hi, I’m Lila.”

The women shook hands.

“I’m Lizzie. Scott and I have been friends forever.”

That statement wasn’t far from the truth.

“Lizzie’s a promoter. She’s helped me with band stuff over the years.”

Lila’s heart raced and her blood whooshed intensifying Scott’s need to feed. He ran his tongue over his fangs. He glanced over at her and then at Lizzie. Two polar opposites. Lizzie was blonde and blue eyed and looked like the girl next door while Lila’s hair was jet black and her long bangs covered her right eye. Both were striking in their own respects and he was one lucky son of a bitch.

“Now that the introductions have been made, shall we?” Lizzie moved forward and touched Lila’s cheek. “You’re a doll.”

Lila giggled. “Thank you. You’re…you’re really pretty.”

“Thanks, love.” Lizzie leaned closer and inhaled deeply close to Lila’s neck.

Scott stepped between them and gave Lizzie a warning glance. Lila was marked as his so Lizzie would know not to bite her, any vampire would know.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow at him.

“Can I get you a glass of wine?” Lila asked.

“That would be great,” Lizzie responded and followed Lila toward the kitchen.

“I hope Cabernet is okay.” Lila offered her a glass.

“Perfect. Red wine is my favorite.” Lizzie sipped the red liquid.

Scott’s vision blurred. He couldn’t wait much longer. “How about some music?”

Lila nodded. “Yeah. That would be good.”

Closer by Nine Inch Nails streamed through the speakers in the living room.

“I love this song.” Lizzie set her glass down. “Dance with me, Lila.”

Lila looked at Scott and then to Lizzie. “Okay.”

Lizzie pulled her into the living room and wrapped her arms around Lila’s neck. She swayed her hips to the beat and stared into Lila’s eyes.

Lila moved her hands to Lizzie’s hips and slowly started moving with the music.

Scott took a seat on the couch and watched them, their bodies getting closer until their breasts were pressed against each other.

Lizzie tangled her fingers into Lila’s hair and licked the twin piercings below Lila’s bottom lip.

Lila closed her eyes and touched her lips to Lizzie’s, her tongue darted into Lizzie’s mouth and that was all it took to set them both on fire.

They kissed hard and Lizzie slid her hands down Lila’s back to grab her ass.

Lila moaned and squeezed Lizzie’s breast.

Scott knew part of Lila’s quick assimilation was due to what he called vampire psychosis. When humans were in close proximity to a vampire, the blood sucker would become almost irresistible. He didn’t’ completely understand how it worked but it was an essential element to their survival; to calm their prey.

Lila was getting a double dose of fang charm between him and Lizzie and she’d had two glasses of wine.

Scott would never do this with her if she hadn’t brought it up more than once. He figured Lizzie was the safest person he could bring into the bedroom he now shared with Lila. And he was glad she wanted another woman because having another male vampire in this situation wouldn’t end well.

Lila pulled away and turned around and smiled at Scott. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

He didn’t have to be told twice and followed the girls down the hall.

Lizzie wasted no time and stripped her clothes off, then helped Lila with hers.

Scott leaned against the door jamb, taking in the scene.

Lizzie was a little taller and thinner than Lila. She had the Barbie doll body. Lila was softer, curvier and watching Lizzie lay Lila down on her back was fucking hot.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head and toed his shoes off.

Lizzie crawled on top of Lila and kissed her lips before inching lower and licking down her collarbone and finally to her breasts. Lizzie’s tongue circled Lila’s nipple and she sucked it into her mouth.

Lila’s gasped and arched her back and pulled at the blanket.

Lizzie reached down between Lila’s legs.

The sound of her fingers sliding in and out of Lila’s wet cunt sent him over the edge and he unbuttoned his jeans and climbed onto the bed.

Lizzie looked up and smiled at him before burying her face between Lila’s thighs.

The tangled scent of both women’s arousal intoxicated him. He lay beside Lila and cupped her tit, pinching the hard tip.

She opened her eyes and reached for him, pulling his face to hers.

He kissed her and sucked her tongue as she moaned into his mouth and wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked him slow.

She panted. “Fuck her while she’s eating me.”

Scott groaned. “Whatever you want, baby.”

Lizzie continued to lap at Lila’s pussy while Scott crawled up behind her. He smacked Lizzie’s ass before positioning his cock at her opening. Grabbing her hips, he slammed into her with one sure thrust.

Lizzie moaned but didn’t stop sucking Lila’s cunt. He knew how much Lizzie liked eating pussy. Maybe as much as he did.  

Scott knew exactly how to make Lizzie come. He reached around her body to play with her clit, pinching and pulling on it. She liked it rough and hard. He let his control slip with her because he could. He fucked her harder than he could ever fuck Lila. It didn’t take long before her pussy contracted and her body shook.

He bent down over her back and sunk his fangs into her neck. The hot splash of blood on his tongue fueled his aggression and he sucked harder and rammed his cock deep inside her to come. His cock pulsed as he watched her wounds close and he licked the last drop of blood.  

 Over Lizzie’s shoulder, he watched as Lila’s body trembled. Lizzie panted from her own orgasm as she sucked Lila’s clit. “Oh God.” She moaned louder and lifted her hips against Lizzie’s face. “I’m coming.” She squeezed her thighs around Lizzie’s head and screamed.

Scott kissed the small of Lizzie’s back and pulled out of her.  

Lizzie sat up and licked her lips, her fingers still sliding in and out of Lila’s pussy. “She needs to be fucked now.” Lizzie moved to Lila’s side and kissed her.

Lila clutched at Lizzie, returning the kiss.  

Scott moved into the position Lizzie vacated and lifted Lila’s legs. He rubbed his cock over her still throbbing clit and she whimpered. He watched them kiss while he pushed just the head inside her. “Fuck. You’re so tight, baby.”

Lizzie moved lower to suck Lila’s nipples. She made eye contact with Scott and rubbed Lila’s stomach.

Lila closed her eyes and pulled on Lizzie’s hair. “Fuck me, Scott.”

He shrugged Lila’s legs over his shoulders and rocked his hips, going deeper.

Lila screamed and scratched her nails into Lizzie’s back.

Her pussy gripped him tight and his balls were ready to explode. He pulled back and with another thrust buried himself in her.

Lizzie reached down and touched Scott’s cock as it slid in and out of Lila. Then she licked her fingers before spreading Lila’s pussy lips open. Using the tip of her finger, she made circles around Lila’s clit.

“I’m gonna come again,” Lila sobbed and opened her eyes to stare at Scott. “Feels so good.”

He picked up the pace and watched her. “Come for me and Lizzie. That’s what we want.”

Lizzie leaned forward and sucked Lila’s clit while Scott pounded her pussy.

Lila’s eyes rolled back and she held her breath. Her pussy squeezed his cock hard and his balls pulled up tight against his body.

“Fuck, yes. I’m coming, too.” His body jerked as he pumped into her one last time and found his release.

Lizzie pulled away and cuddled up to Lila. “Breathe, honey.”

Lila gasped. “Jesus Christ.”

Scott pulled out of her and laid on her other side. “Hope it was all you thought it would be, baby.”

Lila nodded. “It was incredible.” She kissed Lizzie and then kissed Scott. “I could get used to this.”

Look for Melissa’s next short story on July 14, 2012!

                  

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~ Melissa Ecker ~

Website * Twitter * Facebook * Blog

Copyright © 2012 Melissa Ecker

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

The Greek Student, part two

Content Advisory: Erotic, Anal Sex

Eton took care of his body and was perhaps even proud of it. His pecs were well defined, with pale brown nipples that begged for nibbles. His abs rippled with every movement. I’d seen ancient Greek sculptures before, and Eton was no exception to the fine Grecian form.

Our mouths met again as we undressed each another. I tugged his belt loose to open his fly as his slightly callused fingers trailed over my cleavage brimming from my bra and down my belly to unbutton my shorts. My insides burned and my clit was swollen and throbbing with want, still hidden in my tiny panties. He bit my bottom lip and tugged slightly with a smile. My shorts dropped to my ankles and I sucked on his lip as I shoved my shoes off and kicked my shorts away. I sighed when he wrapped an arm around my waist to pull my body flush with his, his hand taking mine to slide over his thigh before bumping up against his fully erect dick. Correction: cock. That monster was nothing but hard man meat. I smiled against his lips.

“Do you approve?” he murmured and I nodded slowly. He let me play with and stroke his cock as he unfastened my bra to palm my breast with one hand. His thumbs circled my nipples, making them peak from the gentle friction. Eton kissed down my neck to my collarbone to lick, then continued downward until he found my right nipple to pull into his mouth, finishing with a rapid flick of his tongue.

My knees weakened and I moaned as I dug my fingers into his hair, pressing his face into my breasts. My panties were soaked with my juices; I needed him so badly. In my arms, underneath me, over me, just in me, deep within, stretching my pussy with his thick Greek cock.

He ate at my nipples in a maddeningly slow fashion, his mouth expert over my skin, which he also nipped. The tiny spikes of pain flooded my cunt and I rubbed my thighs together in desperation to get some sort of sensation down there. He stopped what he was doing and rose to his full height again, his smile mischievous.

I whined softly and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bed. “I want you, Eton.”

He sat me down on the bed and bent at the waist to bury his face in my neck, biting gently. “I want you too, Kitrina,” he rumbled in my ear. He squeezed my breasts with his hands as I was pushed gradually to lie on my back. He repositioned me so I lay in the middle of his bed. A sea of snow white cotton sheets blurred in my vision as he rubbed his thumb into my slick, needy clit, making tight circles and causing me to arch my back.

A wave of pleasure washed over me as my thighs tensed and I reached out on both sides to grasp in vain at the tightly-fitted sheets. I tangled my fingers in his hair instead to pull his mouth to mine, devouring his tongue and lips.

He slipped two fingers inside me, their length easily finding and tickling my g-spot.

I moaned louder and raised my hips off the bed, eager to push something into me, fingers, cock, tongue, anything. I just wanted, no needed, to be filled with something. His knuckles rammed against my clit as he finger-fucked me and I squirmed, moaning through my nose at first. As my pussy clenched around his digits, my mouth fell open and I groaned in orgasm.

“Eton, god Eton. Feels so good.” Our gazes met and I licked my lips at the same time he did his. I purred as he bent his head to flick his very long tongue over my pussy, before burying his nose in my soft, slick folds.

His cheek stubble scratched my inner thighs as I closed my legs around his head. He grunted and pushed them apart again, sliding his finger under my ass to rub against my sensitive hole.

“Mm…oh god, you’re…you’re rubbing my ass. Eton…” I moaned louder and louder still as he slipped the tip of his finger into my ass, still sucking and probing my cunt with his tongue. Dare I try what he was alluding to? Would it feel good or just hurt so very much? The sensation of his finger in my nether hole intensified the orgasm in my pussy, which contracted the same time I gasped and clawed at his sheets. My fingers caught hold of the fabric, and I pulled a corner loose before I came so hard, my face lost all feeling. My knees shook and I had to push him away.

He rose on his knees and looked at me. “Did I do something wrong?”

“God no, Eton, it was just so much at once.” I licked my lips and flipped over on all fours to push him on his back. His member was so hard it was curved up to point at his sculpted stomach. Fine blond hairs trailed from his navel to around his cock and balls, soft and beautiful. I took his gorgeous rod in hand and it jerked at the touch. He smelled like soap with a hint of sandalwood. I licked the precum from the slit in his dick, and then molded my lips around his size and shape. His cock was hot in my mouth and against my tongue. Pulse thundered in my ears but I heard his soft moan as his thighs tensed gradually. He threaded his fingers in my hair and I fought the urge to tell him to use me, fuck my face, anything.

Maybe we had a common frequency between us, because his grip tightened and I would’ve cried out in relief if his cock wasn’t being shoved so far into my throat. My throat muscles constricted against his shaft and he let out a deep groan, apparently liking the sensation. I sucked him faster, deeper as he shoved my mouth all the way to the root of his cock and held me there. A delicious zing raced through my body as he came straight into my throat, his grip powerful and tugging at the roots of my hair. When he was finished, he released me so I could slide him from my mouth.

“Kitrina,” he whispered, his green eyes very dark, “get on your stomach.” He took a few breaths. “Let me see your beautiful ass.”

I complied with his request and turned over. My nipples tingled as they brushed the sheet when I lowered my head and raised my ass in the air, my arms folded beneath me. I felt his hands caress then squeeze each cheek as he moved into position. My pussy ached with need to have his cock stuffed inside.

He rubbed the head of his cock against my cunt and I whimpered. “Please. Oh God, please.”

When he thrust his dick deep into my cunt in one swift move, I moaned so loud, it strained my voice. But he felt so fucking good. I was nowhere else but here, with him on his bed. So long I’d wondered what he’d feel like.

He gripped my hips to crash himself into me, raising the bar, stroking fast, faster.

I screamed and rose on my arms, tilting the degree in which he entered me, giving him a deeper opportunity. One of his hands left my hip to grab a fistful of my hair, raking my neck back at an extreme angle as he growled in his work. My mouth hung open as I moaned and grunted, an animal’s sound. I tugged on my own nipple as I came around him, the orgasm flooding my vision with a wash of creeping unconsciousness.

He pulled me back toward his chest and brushed his lips against my ear. “I want more…” His thumb pressed on my asshole to show me just how much more he wanted. My head felt too heavy for my neck but slowly I nodded.

“Lie flat on your stomach and relax.” His warm breath tickled my skin.

I did as commanded, my arms over my head, fingers digging into the sheet. He leaned back and shuffled through his night stand drawer. The snap of a lid then the icy touch of the lube. I shivered.

 He tossed the tube to the side and slowly pressed his weight down on me. His chest slid up against my back, and he took my hand in his. “Just relax,” he whispered, and I nodded quickly. With his other hand, he positioned his cock against my ass and I felt the beginnings of pressure.

I whined beneath him and he squeezed my hand gently.

“I’m going to work it in slow,” he rasped, rubbing the head of his cock against my opening in a lazy up and down motion. He stopped suddenly and penetrated the outer ring muscles of my ass.

I raised my head off the bed and moaned through my nose. It felt like the entire world was entering my ass, but it was an incredible feeling that sent wild tremors through my whole body and, as he burrowed deeper, that sensation increased until I called out.

“Oh my God, Eton. Eton…” I said his name over and over as he moved inside me, sending electrifying barbs of pain and pleasure through me. I wanted him there. I needed him there. I wanted him to bury that cock as deep as he could.

“Faster,” I begged, my eyes squeezed shut with his hand still gripping mine. I dug my nails into his fingers as he increased the pace and made me growl and groan and moan so much, my voice broke.

Eton too, rumbled in my ear, his hips rolling over my ass, cool air invading the split-second of each of his upstrokes. I was never aware I could feel so much with another human. Tears streamed down my face as my brain confused signals and released the excess the only sure way it knew how.

Eton shortened his strokes, his grunts dropping in scale until he sounded as animalistic as me. He leaned up and clamped my shoulder between his teeth, biting hard as he finished his orgasm deep in my ass.

We halted after a few more pushes against one another, gasping for breath, hearts pounding like mallets. He rose up to allow me to turn on my side and then lay on his side as well and we faced each other.

“I’d say we’ve gotten to know one another a little better,” he said with a beautiful smile.

I grinned back. “Initial curiosity is satisfied, but I will still need more results to draw any conclusions.” He raised an eyebrow. I flicked my tongue over his lips and grinned.

Look for Annice’s next short story in July 2012!

~~*~~

~ Annice Sands ~

Follow Annice on Twitter

Copyright © 2012 Annice Sands

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

The Greek Student

I’d seen him before around campus, sitting alone, reading a book, or looking at his phone. He looked so different than the other boys, with crystal-green eyes under a smoldering scowl and a wild, wavy mane of assorted golds—a lion. His proud cheekbones and angular jaw were just so perfect; I had trouble keeping myself from outright staring at him.

He came up in conversation between me and a friend of mine that worked at the co-op; David knew everything that went on because he sold textbooks and people talked in line as they waited to check out.

“Ah, you’re smitten with Eton, the Greek student.” David had asked me out once, but by the end of the date we realized we would just be better off as friends. I wanted someone with just a little more assertiveness. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smiled at me. “You and just about every other female on campus.”

I cringed and looked up at him. “Is it that obvious?”

David laughed at me then his eyes grew wide. He was looking behind me. I froze, a smile leftover from our little gossip session still pasted on my face.

David nodded. “Hey, Eton. Will that be all?”

The blood rushed out of my face and to undeniably hungrier places on my body as I caught a scent of the sea and Eton’s shadow passed over me. Did he look at me? Had he heard our gossip?

I stepped aside so David could ring up Eton’s books while I continued to admire his ass and strong thighs, hinting through his jeans. His big hands worked a few bills from his wallet. I licked my lips like a wolf contemplating a handsome hare for dinner. I’d love to have him for dinner. Definitely dessert.

While Eton was distracted with gathering his bags, David pointed to him, mouthing the words Here’s your chance.

I gawked, unable to will my feet to move or my mouth to work. I switched my gaze to a rack of college logo shirts when Eton turned around suddenly. I felt like the floor would fall away when he looked straight at me. I gave him a sheepish look and he smiled.

“Care to have coffee? I was about to go to the café.”

David gave an exaggerated nod where Eton couldn’t see him and pointed both index fingers towards the door as if to indicate I should go with him. Now.

My mouth fell open. “Okay…” Okay? Okay! That was my clever first word to him? I grumbled inwardly and moved leaden legs to close the distance between us.

He smiled again, his gaze never leaving me and catching mine every opportunity. “I’m Eton.”

“I’m Kitrina,” I responded, daring a little smile. My gaze traveled from those searing-light green eyes to his broad shoulders, his chest, and down lower where my imagination went wild with thoughts of what might be hiding in those jeans.

“We call her Kit,” David said, maybe sensing that I’d gone mentally AWOL.

“Kit? That’s a beautiful name.” Eton smiled like he had no worries in the world. A trait I’d noticed in other international students who were grateful to attend an American college.

“Thanks,” I said, my eyes burning from looking into his.

He offered his hand and after a moment’s hesitation, I took it. It was warm and nearly swallowed mine. We kept walking, at a much slower pace until we reached the café.

We must’ve talked all afternoon. Eton was from Athens, and with the state of his country, seemed concerned for family back home. He told me of how beautiful the Aegean Sea looked from his father’s house.

“You’ve been watching me for some time.” He reached out to pull my sunglasses down my nose. “And I have been watching you.”

My stomach filled with butterflies and I smiled, guilty as charged. “I wasn’t sure how to approach you. How did you know I was interested?”

His smile widened and his green eyes darkened slightly. “People talk.”

 He paid for the coffee despite my objections. He didn’t seem to be in want of money.

“Do you live in the dormitories?” He asked as we walked out to the student parking lot. My mouth fell open when he stopped at a sleek red Ducati 998, a very nice motorcycle and unclipped the helmet from its side.

“Yeah, I live back that way,” I turned to point the direction, and felt his arm encircle my waist. I turned to look up into those green eyes again, so close I could see the small bits of stubble on his chin and cheeks.

He brought his face closer until our lips met and then we kissed his mouth warm, his tongue wild and seeking. He let the helmet drop to the ground from his hand in order to grasp the nape of my neck, sending a flood of heat to blossom between my thighs. He kissed better than I imagined, and his body was hard beneath that pristine white shirt. He broke the kiss, leaving us both gasping.

“I have a studio apartment.” He bent to scoop up the helmet and held it out to me. “If you wish to visit.”

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle,” I mumbled. I took the helmet from him. It was heavy in my hands and idly I wondered if it was on the neck as well. 

“There’s nothing to it. I’ll do all the work. All you need to do is hold on tight.” He laughed. “And try not to crack the back of my skull with your helmeted head.”

I looked at the helmet in my hands and tried to fit my head into it. It smelled like him; a mixture of what could only be described as sea spray and maybe some sandalwood.

He laughed again and stepped close to me. “Here, let me help. It fits snugly around your head so it can protect your brain in case of an accident. Much like an egg in its carton.” He pushed the helmet onto my head, muffling my hearing. “Comfortable?” He peeked at me through the visor and tightened my chin strap.

I nodded, feeling very top-heavy from the weight of the helmet. An excited shiver shot through my body when I sat in place behind him on the bike. His back was hot, interrupted by fresh air as he bent forward and we motored out of the lot. His ribs rose and fell beneath my hands, and on curves, I clung to him as if we’d known one other much longer than a few hours. At a red light, he reached back and rested his hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before putting us in motion again.

His apartment was more than a little ways from campus; it looked as if he’d opted for a lower rent in favor of being walking distance to classes. Hence the bike, I imagined. We parked and climbed the stairs, pausing at his door as he searched his pockets for the key. I stood patiently, looking around us self-consciously as he let us in. I pushed away deeper concerns about coming home with a man I hardly knew; my heart was pattering away like mad and my palms were damp.  This Greek god was interested in me, and he was intelligent, polite, and so good looking.

His apartment was definitely a studio, with windows that stretched nearly floor to ceiling and crown molding around the tops of the walls. Rugs with bright designs covered parts of the hardwood floor. His bed was a simple one, probably purchased from IKEA, as were his bookshelves. On glass side tables, he had very old-looking seashells. He excused himself and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me to stroll past his shelves, scanning the titles of books he might enjoy. Lots of history. A bit of horror, science fiction, an entire shelf dedicated to a major wildlife and world cultural magazine. Philosophy. I reached into my purse to pop a breath mint, just in case.

Eton reappeared from the bathroom and joined me by the books. I opened my mouth to start a conversation about them, but he pulled me into his strong arms instead, the fresh minty smell of mouthwash on his breath. His mouth found mine and we shared a long, languid kiss. I slipped my hands up under his shirt and groaned in his mouth as I found rippled abs. How was I so lucky today? I broke the kiss and licked my lips as I met his gaze.

“Take off your shirt.” I grinned, feeling brave.

He raised an eyebrow. “Take off yours.”

I shrugged and pulled my little gray t-shirt off to stand there in shorts, bra and panties. I thanked my lucky stars I was wearing the cutest set of matching underwear I owned, burnt-velvet black roses over sheer navy blue mesh. He took off his shirt and I exhaled slowly. He was even more sculpted and beautiful than I imagined.

Look for Annice’s conclusion next week!

~~*~~

~ Annice Sands ~

Follow Annice on Twitter

Copyright © 2012 Annice Sands

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

The Adventures of Wonderslut, Installment 16

When we last left Felicity, aka Wonderslut, she was being subjected to a test by a studly He-robot to see if she was really as non-orgasmic as she claimed. And he was doing it the most basic way he could…by giving her a world class fucking. And she’s reached about the end of her tether.

Well, shit. If Larry the robot was going to punish her, she could punish him right back. Over the years, well-meaning people had invited her to karaoke bars and had the damaged eardrums to prove it. To put things nicely, she was a lover not a singer. So, while Larry continued fucking her over the bank lady's desk, and doing a bang-up job of it, she tipped her head back and let loose in song.

"I've been working on the raaaaaailroad," she belted out. "All the live long daaaaaay."

"What in hell is she doing?" the bank lady demanded?

That, finally, launched Jason into action. Though she couldn't see anything behind her, the sound of his chair tipping over was loud enough. Then, he shoved Larry enough to throw him off his rhythm.

"Okay, now you've done it," Jason shouted.

"Go away," Larry said. "I'm performing my function."

And boy, howdy was he. Under other circumstances, she'd have come once or twice by now and would be contemplating doing something really nice and nasty to thank him. She wouldn’t do it for this particular unit, but once this whole ordeal had ended, she might buy a robot of the same model as Larry and program him for good instead of evil.

"She never sings that song unless she's really, really mad," Jason said. "Cut it out right now."

"I've been working on the raaaaaailroad, just to...." Just to what? She normally didn’t have to remember lyrics during sex, especially good sex. "Just to piss the day awaaaaaay."

"Ye gods, make her stop that screeching," Mrs. Marker said. "She‘s hurting my ears."

Really? Allrighty now. “She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she commmmmmmes.”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best choice. Felicity thought up another old folk song. “In a cabin in a canyon excavaaaaaating for a mine…”

“Stop!” the bank lady howled. “For the love of God, make her stop.”

"She won't quit unless he does," Jason said.

"All right, all right," Mrs. Marker said. "That'll be enough, Larry."

Finally, the frantic and lovely movements of that gorgeous cock in her pussy stopped. Larry pulled out and stepped back. Felicity almost slid off the desk and down to the floor out of a combination of relief and disappointment. Arms caught her. Familiar arms, and she slumped against Jason’s chest. He helped her to a chair, nearly carrying her when her legs wouldn't hold her.

The moment he set her onto it, the contact of the cushion against her clit sent her over the edge. She climaxed with a rush, all the pent-up lust flooding through her, starting in her pussy and radiating outward. Oh, man. Oh man, oh man. She let out a loud "ahhhhhh!" As soon as she got that out of her system, she raised the back of her hand to her forehead in faux distress. "It was ghastly. Horrible. I don't know how I endured it."

Jason hovered over her, the perfect solicitous husband or reasonable facsimile thereof. He patted her hand. "It's over, my dear. We'll get you a nice cup of tea, and you'll feel more like yourself."

Mrs. Marker's voice cleared. "Mr. Plumswindle, may I speak frankly?"

"I don't see that you have reason to speak at all," Jason said. "After what you've put my wife through."

"All the more reason we need to talk." Mrs. Marker pointed at the empty chair. "Please, sit down."

Now that Jason had figured out how high dudgeon worked, he seemed reluctant to give it up. He stood there rigidly, holding her hand.

"Do as the lady says," Felicity said. "I'm not strong enough to leave yet, anyway."

Mrs. Marker took her seat behind her desk and laced her fingers together on the top. She acted as if the scene she and Larry had performed took place on her desk every day. But then, perhaps it did. By now, Larry had allowed his mechanical member to shrink and had put it back into his pants. If a stranger were to enter the room just then, the person could easily conclude the Plumswindles were having a perfectly ordinary conversation about a mortgage. Felicity herself might have become convinced that the last several minutes had never occurred if her pussy weren't still fluttering in the aftermath of that orgasm.

"You have a problem, Mr. Plumswindle," Mrs. Marker said. "Your wife is a frigid, puckered-up old prune."

"Now, see here," Jason said. “She’s not old.”

"Please." The woman raised her hand to silence Jason. "It's noble of you to want to defend her, but you know the truth as well as I do. You're never going to have any decent sort of sex life unless you do something about her."

"But Ms. Marker, I came to enroll my husband in the seminar so he can be cured," Felicity said. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Mrs. Plumswindle, I could enumerate everything wrong with you but the bank closes at five," Mrs. Marker said. She turned back to Jason. "I'd suggest you sign up for the earliest opening we have."

"Do you mean...there's actually hope for my wife and me?" Jason said.

"There's hope for you." Mrs. Marker gave Felicity a dour look. “I’m not sure about your wife.”

Felicity crossed her arms over her chest and glared right back. “You don’t have to be insulting.”

“I see I need to be clearer about this,” the woman said. “Mrs.　Plumswindle, your face could be in the dictionary next to ‘frigid witch.’ You give dysfunctional a bad name. Dry ice gives off more heat than you do. You manage to combine sexual inhibition with insipidness in a way that could keep a team of psychiatrists in practice for decades. You are, without a doubt, the most uptight, unpleasant, unresponsive individual who’s ever come though my office door, and I’ve seen quite a collection of misfits and unfortunates.”

“Thanks so much. As my mother always told me, if you don’t have something nice to say about someone, don’t say anything at all.”

“I can see I’m not getting through to you,” Mrs. Marker said.

Something moved. Something just at the corner of Felicity’s field of vision. She sat quietly and emptied her mind of the details of the conversation going on around her. Everything felt as it had before, or at least as it had ever since Larry had lowered the security soundproofing and had nearly fucked her brains out. Still, she couldn’t quite rid herself of her spidey-sense that something was off -- the feeling that someone was watching them.

“Mrs. Plumswindle?”

Felicity jerked her head toward the desk and found the bank lady staring at her. “I’m sorry?”

“Do you or do you not want to be helped?” the woman said.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Felicity continued doing her best to absorb everything around her. Remaining open to all her perceptions, and finally she got it. The thing that had been making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. There was a painting of a horse on the wall behind the bank lady's head, and the horse in question had some very un-horsey eyes, and they moved.

She stood and pointed at it. "Who's back there?"

"What?" Mrs. Marker looked over her shoulder at the painting. "Who in hell…"

The human eyes disappeared from the horse, and the real parts of the painting slid back into place. Whoever had been watching had realized they'd been detected. Obviously.

“Whoever that is, I’ll skin him alive.“ Mrs. Marker humphed loudly, stalked to bookshelf, and pushed a large volume on the bottom level. The whole unit swung inward, revealing a hidden room. Larry the robot followed his boss into it, and Felicity didn't hesitate to go after them. As usual, Jason brought up the rear.

All four of them ended up staring a lone woman wearing a blouse buttoned up to a Peter Pan collar, a navy blue skirt that hung to mid-calf, and sensible shoes. Said woman, who looked mighty familiar, by the way, stood in those sensible shoes on top of a step ladder. From up there and with the benefit of the eye holes, she’d witnessed the entire scene in Mrs.　Marker’s office. Including Larry’s whirring pneumatic penis and how he’d used it on Felicity for those excruciating minutes.

The woman didn’t appear to be the type to enjoy that sort of display, but her ample boobs rose and fell as though she’d run a mile. Or as if she’d become aroused watching. That triggered something in Felicity’s memory. More and more familiar.

“Blanche,” Jason said from where he stood next to Felicity. “How nice to see you again.”

Of course. The super-prude they’d caught trying to put a tracking device on the Slutmobile. Jason would recognize her seeing as he’d had the dubious pleasure of fucking her. They’d even taken her back to the Slutgrotto and “tortured” the information about Sylvester from her with a well-applied vibrator. She’d obviously gone right back to her evil ways as soon as they’d released her.

“Yeah, Blanche. Watched any good porno lately?” Felicity said.

Mrs. Marker stared darts of venom at the woman. “You fool. Who gave you permission to use this room?”

“You think I’m a fool,” the woman answered. “Don’t you know who you’ve been entertaining in your office?”

“That’s none of your business,” the bank lady said.

“Really?” Blanche gave the woman a shit-eating grin. “Then, I guess you’re not interested that this woman is Wonderslut and the man is her sidekick, the Piston.”

“Wonderslut,” Mrs. Marker said in a tone full of both contempt and awe as she turned toward Felicity.

Of course, the cat had been out of the old bag the moment they’d encountered Blanche. Note to self: mandatory to wear costumes and masks when dealing with captives.

“At your service,” Felicity said. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Larry, you know what to do,” Mrs. Marker said.

Another shtupping? While that would be fun, and she surely didn’t have to pretend to be non-orgasmic any longer, it probably wouldn’t accomplish anything Sylvester’s henchmen and women wanted. As Larry approached, he didn’t unzip his fly. Instead, something that looked remarkably like the tip of a hypodermic needle extended from his index finger. He grabbed Felicity around the shoulders with enough strength to hold her firmly in place. Then, the needle went into her arm.

When he released her, she reeled backward as her vision began to blur. Jason launched himself toward her, but Larry intercepted him and proceeded to give him a shot, as well. As her knees gave out and her vision dimmed, her last sight was of Jason toppling into a pile next to her.

Alice's blog/website:  http://www.alicegaines.blogspot.com/
E-mail Alice:  authoralicegaines@yahoo.com

Forgive Me

Content Advisory: Erotic

The flames from the candles illuminated the shadowed corner. Danielle looked over her shoulder and knelt before the altar. Clasping her hands together, she closed her eyes and pretended to pray. She hadn’t been completely honest in her last few confessions. Telling the truth about the feelings stirring inside her proved impossible. Who wanted to sit in a dark room and spill their guts to an old man about how they masturbated while thinking of the guy who swept the floors of the church?

She made the sign of the cross over her chest and kissed her fingers before standing up and straightening her skirt. As the sun set, the light would shine through the stained glass windows and give way to darkness. The chapel was empty that time of day, just how she liked it.

She also knew that he would be there to prepare for evening mass. The cold, hardwood of the pew chilled the backs of her knees. She folded her hands in her lap and waited. She wondered if he knew she studied him. That she watched the way his fingers gripped the handle of the broom. She would imagine his hands on her thighs, sliding up under her skirt to do things to her that she’d only ever done to herself.

Wetness gathered between her legs and she looked around, still no sign of him. She walked to the bathroom and entered the second stall. She pulled her panties down and tucked them in her bag. Leaning against the door, she lifted her skirt and traced her fingers over her mound. Her legs trembled and she dipped a finger inside herself for lubrication and rubbed her clit.

Small sounds escaped her throat. Sighs and moans. She tried to be quiet but the sensation was building fast. So lost in her own pleasure, she didn’t hear the door open.

“Someone in here?”

She shrieked involuntarily. “Umm. Just a second.” Heat spread up her neck and settled into her face. She grabbed her bag and slid the lock on the stall door.

Peeking out, she saw him standing against the wall, broom in hand and a smirk on his face. His dark hair hung down and brushed his shoulders.

“I can come back later if you want to finish.” His hand slid down the broom handle a couple of inches.

She looked at his feet and shook her head. “No. It’s okay. I’m…umm…” she stammered.

“What’s your name?”

“Danielle.”

“So, Danielle. Why are you always hanging around in a church?” He leaned the broom against the door and shifted his weight between his feet.

She couldn’t tell him she was hanging around to watch him. That would be so creepy.  “It’s peaceful here.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

She washed her hands quickly. “I should be going.”

He stepped aside. “See you on Saturday.”

“What?”

“Saturday. You’re always here on Saturday.”

“Yeah. Okay. See you.” She ducked under his arm and made a beeline for the chapel doors. So, he noticed her, too.

****

Danielle took her time figuring out what to wear to church. She was planning to go a little early and maybe catch up with…what’s his name? How did she not know his name? His face was burned into her mind, the high cheekbones and full lips, the straight white teeth and deep brown eyes. Delicious.

She pulled on the sculpted wood handle of the chapel door and peeked inside. There wouldn’t be any service for another three hours. She walked in and didn’t see him anywhere but she heard something. Music. Coming from down the hall. She stopped and listened. It was a twangy sound. Like an electric guitar without an amplifier.

Turning into the hallway, the sound grew more pronounced. She passed the bathroom. There were several doors spaced down the corridor. She had no idea what was inside each room. She’d never ventured past the restroom before.

 She stopped in front of the last room on the left. Someone was playing a guitar in there. She leaned closer to put her ear against the wood not realizing the door wasn’t closed completely. It flew open and she fell on her hands and knees on the carpeted floor.

Shit.

He sat on a twin sized bed smiling at her. “Hey, Danielle. Come on in.”

She wanted to die. Right there. In this little room with the crucifix on the wall and the bookshelf full of bibles and paperbacks. She silently prayed to the God she wasn’t sure existed, take me now.

The guitar was leaned against the bed frame and a hand was thrust into her face. “Let me help you up. You okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I was about to knock and…”

He laughed. “It’s cool.” He stood and pulled her up off the floor.

“Do you live here? Is this your room?” She inspected her palm where a small carpet burn turned red before craning her neck to look up at him. He was at least a foot taller than her.

“Yeah. Father Michael lets me stay here and eat in the kitchen. I clean up and fix shit. I earn my keep.”

“I know you’ve been here awhile. I mean, I’ve seen you around.”

“Been here about six months.”

“What’s your name?” she finally asked.

He tucked his hair behind his ear. “Mitchell.”

She smiled. “Nice name.”

“So, what are you doing here so early?” He looked at the brass wind up clock on the table beside the bed. “Mass doesn’t start for another couple of hours.”

She shrugged. “I had nothing else to do.”

The room was small with the bed taking up most of the floor space. A wooden chair sat against the far wall. A small chest of drawers was situated beside the bookshelf.

Mitchell didn’t seem to have much in the way of personal possessions, except for a nice guitar with no amp.

“That’s pretty.” She touched the strings. “Have you been playing a long time?”

“About five years. I started in high school.”

“Are you in a band? Like a rock band?”

“I play on the weekends with some friends.” He pointed at the bed. “You want to sit?”

“Okay.” The mattress was softer than she expected and the quilt looked handmade. She ran her fingers over the stitching. “It’s quiet. Are you the only one here?” She looked at his face and for a moment she imagined him on top of her groaning and squeezing and pulling on her. She wanted that.

That’s why you’re here.

“Yeah. They leave around this time on Saturdays to go do stuff.”

She nodded and smiled. “I hoped you’d be here alone.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“Why is that?”

She turned. “Because I wanted to do this.” Leaning forward, she kissed him. Softly at first and then she snaked her tongue into his mouth. She hoped he wouldn’t pull away and he didn’t disappoint her.

His hand slid behind her head and gripped the back of her neck firmly. He tasted like cigarettes.

Danielle touched his face, her fingertips gliding over a slight growth of stubble.

He pulled back. “You taste good.” He squeezed her bare thigh and smiled. “You want me to finish what you started in the bathroom the other day?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

He kissed her again and said, “Let me lock the door.” The click of the button on the doorknob echoed in the room. He laughed. “I should turn on the radio or something.”

On top of the bookshelf was a small black radio and he flipped a switch on the side and adjusted the volume to a decent level and music filled the silence. He smiled at her and sat back down. “You’re pretty.”

“Thank you.” Danielle exhaled and smoothed her skirt to keep her hands from shaking.

“Now. Where were we?” He sucked her bottom lip before slipping his tongue into her mouth.

She reciprocated and licked at his tongue and lips.

The hem of her skirt rose as she spread her knees apart, wanting him to slide his hand up to her moist panties. Instead, he cupped her breast and teased her nipple through her shirt.

She shivered and dug her nails into his arm. She’d been felt up before but Mitchell seemed to know just how to touch her.

He worked the buttons on her blouse and slid it off her shoulders. With one hand he released the clasp at her back, freeing her tits. Lips grazed her jaw and lower to her neck while he kneaded her soft breasts and gently tugged on the pink tips.

She moaned and let her head fall back. She wanted him to touch her between her legs.

As if reading her mind, his hand gripped her thigh and slid up under her skirt.

She opened her legs wider and watched him suck her nipple into his mouth. Holding his head, she panted.

His mouth, his fingers pulling at the elastic of her panties, it was all so intense. His thumb slid over her pussy, swirling around her opening. “Mmm. So wet. You want to come, don’t you?”

“God. Yes. Yes, I do.” She pulled his hair and he growled in response, biting her breast. She gasped.

He spread her wetness around and finally rubbed her clit. “Lift your legs,” he whispered, sliding off the bed and onto the floor. He guided her feet up to the edge of the bed and pulled her closer to him. Kissing the back of her thigh, he leaned in between her legs and kissed the crotch of her panties before hooking his finger into them and pulling them aside.

She squirmed and watched him.

He licked at her pussy lips, his tongue slipping between her folds.

Her eyes rolled back and she groaned loudly. She fisted the quilt on the bed.

He stopped and she looked down at him.

“I want your panties off so I can do this right.” He lifted her ass up and pulled the silky thong down her legs and tossed it on the floor. He positioned her legs over his shoulders and dove back in. He held her pussy open with his fingers and sucked her clit, rubbing his tongue over it.

“Oh, God.” Her legs shook immediately and the pressure built up fast. She was going to come now. The telltale thump in her clit and the tremor in her legs increased.

He slid a finger deep into her pussy and worked his tongue faster over her clit.

Her pussy clenched on his finger and her clit throbbed hard. She covered her mouth to keep from screaming out loud. No orgasm she’d given herself was even close to what he’d just done to her. She breathed fast and fell back onto the bed.

He sucked at her pussy before sitting back on his heels. “That was good.”

She nodded quickly. “Very good.”

He pulled his t-shirt off and unbuttoned his jeans, stripping down while she lay on the bed and watched. His cock was thick and long and she wanted it inside her.

He positioned between her legs and leaned forward to kiss her tits and play with her nipples. “Touch me, baby.” He moved up to nuzzle her neck.

She reached down between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his dick. She slid her hand up and down and he groaned, moving his hips against her grasp.

He breathed hard against her ear. “Fuck. That feels good.” He pulled her hand away and rubbed his cock against her pussy. Cradling her head in his hands, he kissed her softly and pushed inside her.

She gasped into his mouth and scratched at his shoulders.

“Damn. You’re tight.” He moved slowly, pushing harder, deeper. Something inside her gave and he slid in all the way, hitting her end.

She moaned loud, the brief moment of pain giving way to a pleasure so intense her voice was paralyzed and her eyes watered.

He paused, brushing a tear away with his thumb. “You okay?”

She wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed against him. “Yes.”

He buried his face in her neck and rocked his hips, each thrust stretching her, filling her. His hand traced down her body to her hip and further to her thigh where he held her leg against him.

“You feel so good. Come for me again.” He shortened his strokes, thrusting in and up rapidly. He brought his mouth down on hers and bit her lip. “That’s it, baby.”

With every upstroke his cock rubbed the same spot inside her and her body tightened. She arched beneath him, needing just a little more to relieve the unbearable tension gathering in her pussy.

He looked in her eyes and she turned her head.

His hair hung around his face. “Don’t look away. I want to see your face when you come.” He lifted up on to his knees and plunged into her harder.

Her clit throbbed and her pussy ached. “I’m close,” she whined, gritting her teeth.

“I know what you need.” He slowed his thrusts and pressed her clit with his thumb. “Damn. You’re so wet.” He alternated his thrusts going short and fast and then slow and deep, almost withdrawing completely before plunging in again.

The sweet friction of his thick shaft coupled with his thumb rubbing her clit sent her into a freefall. Her pussy contracted, squeezing his dick. Every nerve in her body exploded with hot pleasure and she screamed.

He fell over her and covered her mouth with his, stifling the sound of her cries. He groaned, slammed into her one last time and filled her with his hot release. His body jerked on top of her and he broke the kiss. “Jesus Christ.” He looked up at the crucifix on the wall above them. “Sorry.”

Danielle laughed and covered her mouth. “We’re going to hell for this.”

Mitchell shrugged. “It was worth it.” He kissed her nose. “I’d do it again.”

Look for Melissa’s next short story on June 30, 2012!

                  

~~*~~

~ Melissa Ecker ~

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Copyright © 2012 Melissa Ecker

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.