We pulled up to the yuppie grocery store, the one with the parking lot full of SUVs and high-end imported cars, and I cut the engine. After Moriah’s bone-splitting, anus-clutching, blockbuster orgasm in the shower, we had determined that it was my turn. But I was nervous.
“Shouldn’t we have a safe word or something? You know, just in case I’m starting to come when I’m paying the cashier?”
Moriah’s eyes lit up. “How about, ‘I’m cooommming!’?”
I shot her a sour look. “That’s what I’m trying to avoid. Maybe I should carry the remote.”
“Oh, no. That takes the fun out of it. Okay, how about this. If you want me to flick it off, put your hand to the back of your neck, like you got an itch.”
That made me feel better.
In the store, Moriah walked a few feet behind me while I pushed a cart. The store, located in a rehabbed turn-of-the-twentieth-century factory, was the nicest in town. Its rustic brick walls, warm lighting, and a well-heeled professional clientele made for a nice shopping experience.
I stopped to check out the arugula and a jolt hit my crotch. I took a deep breath, put a bunch of the greens in my cart, and moved on. As I reached for a bunch of grapes, the throbbing stopped. The vibrations felt good, but not so good that I was revealing our little game to the other shoppers.
I looked down to see if my nipples were behaving. The bra I had slipped on was working. So far, at least, I wasn’t making a public spectacle of myself. I wanted to have fun, I wanted to be teased, but I didn’t want to draw attention.
I glanced back at Moriah, who was inspecting a head of Romaine lettuce. She pretended to ignore me. So I did the same, pushing on to the gourmet cheese counter.
Just as I picked up a wedge of Italian truffle cheese, the throbbing resumed. I pulled my knees together to concentrate the vibrations, taking the chance that Moriah would only be delivering a short, tantalizing jolt. I was right. A few seconds later, the vibrations stopped.
On to the dairy section, farther back in the store, and I grabbed a carton of eggs and some milk. Pushing the cart to the back of the store to the bakery section, I leaned over to inspect some delectable looking croissants in the case. My pussy was pinged again.
It didn’t stop.
The clerk came up, smiling. “Two chocolate and two almond croissants,” I said, sounding remarkably cool as the vibrations pulsed up my abdomen to my breasts. I took a deep breath and spread my feet in an attempt to diffuse the sensations.
It didn’t work.
I felt a touch and warmth on my arm. Moriah was next to me, leaning in, her hands gently folded on my upper arm.
“You okay?” Her look of concern overlaid a faintly concealed wicked grin.
“For maybe a few more seconds,” I muttered under my breath. She released my arm as I reached for the box of French pastries.
As I placed them in my cart, Moriah flicked the switch and just in time. I was sure my clit was swelling, and I could sense moisture between my legs. My pussy was slick. But no liquid was dribbling from my cunt, at least not yet.
I was hot, I was bothered, but I wasn’t close to coming. I looked down at Moriah, easily a head shorter than me, and smiled.
“This is fun. You should try it.”
“I intend to.”
As we walked up the aisle toward the line of cashiers, two women stepped in front of us, hand in hand. Lesbians!
Moriah’s hand found mine on the handle of the cart and we pushed it together, our hips touching. She smiled sweetly to me. Gosh, grocery shopping had never been so much fun!
“I’m going to see what’s at the salad bar,” Moriah said.
“I’ll catch up. I need shampoo and conditioner.”
She walked away, and I turned down the aisle with the hair supplies. I leaned over to pick up a bottle of conditioner, and my crotch lit up.
I kept browsing, the throbbing in my pussy increasing in intensity. A pool of moisture gathered at my spine. I knew that feeling. That’s my orgasm forming.
Okay, Moriah, I thought to myself, time to let up.
The buzzing didn’t stop. My nipples, now hard, pushed against the fabric of my bra. A little longer and juices would be dripping down my leg.
C’mon, Moriah. Cut me some slack here.
The buzzing continued. I was moments away from blowing. Red alert: Where are the goddam rest rooms in this place? I looked around frantically, feverishly resisting the urge to either hike up my skirt and pull the vibrator off my clit, or just…
The aisle emptied out of other shoppers, and I grabbed my crotch through my skirt. I was able to move the little finger of the vibrator an inch or so and off my clit. But the damn thing kept buzzing.
For a few more moments, at least, I wasn’t in danger of an orgasm. Suddenly, the buzzer stopped.
Where was …?
Moriah scurried around the corner, three containers clutched in her arms. “Alison, you okay? I’m so sorry. You won’t believe what happened.”
“I’m okay, but just barely. What’s that?”
“I sure hope you like chicken rice soup,” she said. She leaned in close to me, whispering. “I took the lid off this giant container of soup to smell it, and I dropped the remote! I had to scoop three quarts of the stuff into containers before I found it. Did it stop?”
“Yeah, but just a moment ago.”
“Wow, it’s waterproof. Or soup-proof.” My girlfriend squeezed my arm. “I can be such a klutz sometimes. I’m sorry.”
“Good thing for you, I like chicken rice.”
We unloaded our cart and checked out. In the car, after I rearranged the vibrator back over my pussy folds, we planned our next move.
“You still haven’t come, Allie. I want to see you orgasm in public.”
“How about the mall? All those people. Lots of noise …”
The bull led me by the hand into the bedroom. I knelt on the bed, offering my ass to him doggie-style. Looking back between my legs past my shriveled dick, I could see his thick and hard cock—and about four times the size of mine. This enormous black man had been looking at me all evening and licking his lips.
“How long is that?” I think I gulped. His balls were the size of hen’s eggs and hung low between his legs.
“About ten inches. Look, it’s not the length, it’s the girth,” he said, one hand planted on an asscheek, his thumb probing my asshole. “I’ll go slow. It’ll burn at first. I’ll wait until you say go. I’ve taken a hundred-and-ten-pound high school cheerleaders no problem, and had three-hundred-pound bubble butts who couldn’t handle it. If it hurts, tell me.”
“How about that twink? You drilled him all the way. I watched you go all the way inside him.”
“He’s incredible. I don’t know how he does it. He a great fuck.”
I settled on the bed, my cheek on the cool fabric, my ass in the air, my legs spread. He separated my asscheeks and lubed me. Next thing, it felt like his elbow was probing my asshole.
“This is the easy part,” he said, and he was in.
I groaned and gripped the bedspread with both hands. Hurt? Hell, yes, it hurt. It burned. My guts got all liquidy.
“Breathe. Take a couple deep breaths.”
The burning subsided. “Okay, go slow,” I said.
“Tell me when I hit bottom. Some folks, I can only go in half-way.”
He slowly filled me, pushing and pulling. In my mind’s eye, I could see my asshole gripping his black cock, thick as a wrist. The burning passed, and was replaced by a unique sensation of fullness. My cock, swaying between my legs, got hard again. I couldn’t feel my balls. The room was air-conditioned, and my scrotum had shriveled, pulling my nuts tight against the base of my dick.
Then he hit bottom.
“Stop. How far in?”
“About three-quarters. Not bad. Hang on.”
He picked up the pace of his thrusting, his hands gripping my hips. I reached back to stroke my cock, but he beat me there and pushed my hand away. His hand completely enveloped my cock and balls, squeezing and tugging my package as he fucked me.
His huge hands went to my abdomen and he lifted me off the mattress. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist. He was wheelbarreling me, fucking me in the ass the way he’d take a girl in her pussy. Sounds came out of my throat that I didn’t recognize—whimpers, yelps, simpering.
I surrendered to him, limp as a rag doll, as he drilled my rectum. My reverie ended when the bull suddenly pulled out of me and flipped me on my back. Kneeling between my legs, he pushed my legs back over my head. After squeezing half a tube of cold lube on my anus, he penetrated me again. Goddamn! I was his little cum slut! He pushed his knees under my ass, raising my hips. This man mountain was fucking me like I was an eighteen-year-old girl being opened up by her black pimp. For the line of customers outside the door.
Lifting my head, I saw my fat, engorged cock leaking pre-cum on to my stomach. His pounding picked up in frequency and force, and my dick whipped around, spraying juice on my nipples and chest hairs. I smeared some on my hands and started masturbating furiously.
It was like a dream, a gay wet dream. I couldn’t tell up from down. All I knew is that I wanted to come before his huge member plowing into me forced all my jism out of my prostate.
I came, ejaculate spraying out of me, hitting my mouth and chin. I sprayed the bull, too, and it pushed him over the edge. Roaring, he exploded inside me. I didn’t care about the pain as he pumped his fluid into my rectum. His thrusting slowed and he pulled out of me.
I reached for him. I wanted to bury my face in his. I wanted his tongue in my mouth. I wanted my arms around his stupendous shoulders.
He pushed me away.
“I don’t cuddle with guys. Clean yourself up. You a mess.”
What the fuck am I doing? That crazy bitch Junie will be here in two minutes. Has she done this before? Is she a serial ladies room perv? Why did I agree to this?
She answered her own question: Two glasses of wine and soaking wet panties, the result of us planning our upcoming weekend of nonstop lesbian sex. I’m lucky she didn’t get on her knees and start lapping my cunt under the table.
Hiking up her skirt, Melanie plopped on the toilet seat and released. She flushed, and, just as she finished wiping, the women’s room door opened and fast footsteps echoed off the walls. The stall’s door flew open.
Junie attacked, pulling Melanie to her feet. She pushed her against the back wall, and kissed her deeply. While her tongue pushed into Melanie’s mouth, her hands pulled at her skirt, exposing her bare behind. Junie pushed a knee between her legs and spread her wide. Melanie, straddling the toilet, responded instantly, her pussy slick with need as Junie inserted first one, and then two fingers, into her and began thrusting.
“Fuck, Junie, goddamn, what if someone…” Melanie protested between kisses.
“We’re the only women in the restaurant. If someone comes in, just shut the fuck up. Unbutton your goddamn blouse.”
Melanie’s fingers flew at the buttons. With her free hand, Junie pulled her bra down and clamped her mouth on Melanie’s rock-hard nipple.
It was unreal. Just over two minutes before, Melanie had been sitting across the table from Junie in the elegant restaurant. And now this: She’s fucking me in the ladies room!
The bathroom door opened, and the women froze.
Junie clamped a hand over Melanie’s mouth. Then came the sound of water rushing in the sink.
Junie’s fingers had stopped in mid-thrust as they stood intertwined in the cramped stall, their hearts pounding. But she ground the heel of her palm slowly into Melanie’s clit as the unseen person washed her hands at the sink. With her other hand, Junie slowly grazed the pad of her thumb across Melanie’s smooth lower lip. The touch tingled lips above and below the other woman’s waist.
At the blast of the hand dryer, Junie resumed pumping her fingers deep into Melanie’s vagina.
The door opened and closed. They were alone again. Junie crushed her lips against Melanie’s.
Melanie exploded, her hips thrusting as she came into Junie’s hand. The fire of her orgasm sizzled its way through her body and melted a liquid path down her legs.
They both started at the sound of liquid splashing in water. Was someone in the adjacent stall? Was there a third person in the restroom?
“Junie! What the…”
“Goddam, Melanie! Look!” She had squirted all over Junie’s hand, her juices running down her wrist and forearm. Melanie watched as a rooster tail of liquid squirted out of her pussy and cascaded into the toilet bowl.
“Am I peeing?”
“I don’t think so.” Junie sniffed her hand, dripping with the liquid. “Doesn’t smell like pee. Have you ever squirted?”
“No, I don’t think so. I peed before you got here.”
Junie pulled Melanie into her and kissed her hard. “You are a dirty slut.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard and so fast in my life.”
“That’s just a warm up for our honeymoon. Anyway, I’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes. Clean yourself up, Melanie. You’re a mess.”
“What about you? Can I make you come?”
“Let’s not push our luck. I’ll email you Amtrak tickets later in the week.”
And she was gone.
Teaser from Big Date [M/F, female masturbation, sex toy erotica, explicit erotica, fellatio]:
It had been nearly two years since Amy had been with a man. To be sure, nothing can replace the sensation and orgasm she got from a hard cock. It’s just what it was attached to. Cold, plastic, penis-shaped vibrators just didn’t do it for her. Thank God for modern technology—miniature motors and batteries had opened up a new world of sexual pleasure.
At home in bed or stretched out in her favorite chair, Amy kept a selection of vibrators within easy reach. Spontaneity was the key.
She remembered a night three weeks earlier, a weekday night after a typically hard day at the office, when the urge struck, despite her weariness. While often mental, this time it started with a stirring between her legs. Amy stretched out in her chair, fully clothed, and closed her eyes.
This was the key moment. Let the thinking, if not stop, then at least slow down. Breathe, relax, feel. When she remembered, she meditated. That night, she didn’t remember. The urge was overwhelming.
After a few minutes, Amy moved both hands to her breasts, outlining their shape with her index fingers. She kept her eyes closed as the tension of the day begin to dissolve. She loved to outline her shape and feel the changes as her arousal slowly built.
Unbuttoning her blouse, she ran her fingers over the lace of her bra. An involuntary moan emanated from her throat. Sliding a hand inside one of the cups, Amy gave a little squeeze. Her nipple responded, stiffening to her touch.
A quick motion to the clasp between the cups of her bra freed her breasts. Amy cupped them in her hands, feeling their heft, and ran her thumbs slowly around her nipples. The left one, usually slower to respond, came to a full erection. She rolled each nipple between thumb and forefinger, giving the right one a fast little squeeze. A jolt of electricity flashed down her breast to between her legs.
The look of her boobs, round and pert, the nipples bright pink, always thrilled her. She ran her hands over them in wide sweeps, feeling their velvety smoothness and grazing the rock-hard nubs. Squeezing an entire breast in one hand, Amy pinched the nipple between thumb and finger as she pushed it up toward her throat, feeling its weight. The pressure was delicious.
Her sweeps broadened toward her belly and navel. A flame had ignited between her legs. Amy gathered her skirt and pulled it up, all the while caressing first one breast, then the other.
Spreading her knees, Amy trailed her fingertips between her legs, lightly outlining her mound through her panties as she pinched her nipple harder. Grasping her outer labia between her fingertips and the heel of her hand, she gave a squeeze. The heat was building to a slow burn and she could feel the moisture between her legs, her pussy slickening. Tapping her outer labia with her forefinger made her lips swell even more. She hiked up her hips and pulled the panties off.
Amy was wet and ready.
She spread a little lube on a vibrator—a small fingertip job—and slipped it on her forefinger. Starting out, Amy made little circles at the entrance of her vagina, drawing out the juices. Moving the vibrator up toward the clit, she spread the moisture around, soaking her lips. A demanding ache began to build. Not so fast. She backed off and outlined her shape, moving the vibrator down her glistening labia, then back up to her pink, erect clit.
The tightening walls of her pussy were an invitation to Amy’s finger. Planting the vibrator on her clit, she ran an index finger down her lips, covering it with slithery juices and crooking it so that it slid into her hole. She explored her insides before settling into a steady rhythm in concert with the rocking motion of the vibrator on her hard clit.
As the crescendo built, the walls of her vagina clenched and unclenched on her finger buried deep inside. Amy moaned, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm. Hips heaving and her spine arched, Amy threw her head back as the waves of pleasure ripped through her body. With a discipline mastered over the years, she held the vibrator against her clit, the buzz never wavering, the pleasure building again toward her next climax.
And the next.
And the next.
After going through two sets of batteries and experiencing countless orgasms, Amy slept better than she had in months.
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Quality erotica for discerning readers...by the award-winning authors of “The Hazard Chronicles” and “The Promise Papers.”
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