Erotic Stories

[Drifter79]

She picked up the bowl and walked over and held out it out so that Harry could take some chips. "Closer. I can't reach them." Sabrina extended her arms all the way out, causing her dress too slide up again. Each one of us took one chip at a time. I could tell Sabrina's pretty pussy was having the same effect on everyone else that it was having on me. We were all trying to be cool, so we were trying to adjust the cocks in our pants without anyone seeing. Finally we finished the chips and Sabrina put down the bowl, then reached up to pull the dress back down.

"I kind of like it up. What about you Harry," Paul said.

"You're right, it does look better up," Harry replied.

Sabrina crossed her hands in front of her crotch. "No, that won't do. Put your hands by your sides."

Sabrina eyes teared up again, and looked off into space, then put her hands down. I didn't think Sabrina liked what she was doing. But if she didn't, why did her pussy look wet. We all sat looking at her for over an hour. Her pussy stayed wet the whole time. She was even dripping down the insides of her legs. I wasn't the only one to notice, either.

"Look. She's peeing down her legs. My Mom spanks me when I used to do that," Brad said, pointing at my sister's pussy. Brad was the youngest of all of us. He was eleven. I laughed and so did Harry. But Sabrina turned red and started to cry again.

"That sounds like it would be fun," Paul said, laughing along with us.

"Come on Michael, you humiliated me enough," Sabrina said, trying to stop crying.

"Not just yet. Turn around and bend over and grab your ankles," I ordered.

Sabrina did as I said. She easily bent down and grabbed her ankles. I stood up and took off my belt, then walked over to Sabrina. "Don't move or you'll be sorry. I think for peeing you should get 20 swats from each of us. Does that sound fair to you?"

"Just get it over with," Sabrina whispered back at me.

I wasn't going to hit her very hard. But as the first few blows bounced off her beautiful ass. I got a little carried away. I hit her harder and harder. Each blow caused her to teeter on her heels, and she let out a low little yelp, with each blow. When I got done, I stepped back to look at my work. Her ass was bright red, and she was even wetter than before. We all got our turns, and by the time it was Harry's turn, Sabrina was no longer yelping from the blows. She was moaning softly so that everyone could hear.

Sabrina's hands were no longer holding her ankles. They were up squeezing her tits through her dress. As Harry brought down the last blow, Sabrina fell to her knees, and rolled over on her back and shot cum straight up in the air.

I had already seen her cum, but I was still amazed, just like everyone else. We all sat with our mouths hanging open, staring at Sabrina lying on the floor covering her pussy with both hands, still shaking trying to catch her breath.

"I want to see it again!"

"Me too."

"You heard them Sabrina. Get busy. Why don't you take off the dress? I don't want you to ruin it."

Sabrina sat up and pulled the dress over her head. She put her hands on her breasts and squeezed them and whispered, "Please don't make me."

"Why not?"

"I just can't. Not in front of them," Sabrina said, as she continued playing with her tits.

"Sure you can. Why don't you sit on the couch between Harry and me and do it?" I told her, as I patted the cushion of the couch between us. Sabrina got up on shaky legs and sat down between us. She spread her pussy then rubbed up and down on her clit. I grabbed one of Sabrina's boobs and began to squeeze and kneaded it between my fingers. Harry did the same with the other. Sabrina jammed three fingers inside of her wet pussy as she continued to rub her clit. Her moans got louder as she spread her legs even wider, pounding her fingers in and out. She came again this time even harder, spraying cum all over the front of her. But she didn't stop this time, she rolled her clit between her fingers and she came, as I twisted on her nipple. She screamed and shot cum straight up in the air.

"Why don't you go up and take a shower. You're a mess. We still aren't done having fun yet."

She got up and walked out of the room on very unsteady legs. "Here," I shouted at her. As she turned, I threw her the dress. "Don't forget your pretty dress. We can't have you running around naked, can we." That got everyone laughing, and turned my sister's face beet red."Shit. I should have had her give me a blow-job!" Paul said, sitting back on the couch mad at himself.

"Don't worry. We have all weekend to have fun with Sabrina," I told him.

"I know she's your sister, but I want to fuck her, too. You won't get mad, will you?" Harry asked me.

"I don't see why not. But don't cum in her, she might get pregnant. And I know she loves having guys cum on her." Boy was that wrong. But it will teach her to be nicer to me, that's for sure. We waited over an hour, then we heard that sexy sound of heels coming down the stairs again. Sabrina stood looking at us as pretty as ever, in her dress and heels.

"Can I please go up to my room," Sabrina said just above a whisper.

"We've been talking about you while you were gone. I think we all need a blow-job."

"Fuck you! I won't!" Sabrina screamed, as she crossed her arms under her tits, then turned to leave.

"What do you think your friends at school will say when I send them copies of the tape?"

Sabrina shoulder tensed. "That's all? A blow-job, right?"

We answered her by all standing up and dropped our pants. Our cocks sticking straight out waiting for her. She walked over to us not ever caring that the dress quickly slid up slowing us her pretty pussy again. She started on Brad. It was quick and easy. Sabrina just stuck out her tongue and he came all over her face. I knew she was mad but she said nothing and moved to Bill. He lasted just a little longer than Brad, barely. Sabrina just got it in her mouth, and he came. Sabrina coughed, and swallowed most of his cum, and wiped the rest off her chin.

Next was Harry. By the look on his face I knew we wouldn't last long. I think Sabrina could tell that too. She rubbed his balls and stroked his dick a couple of times. He came all over Sabrina's tits."I'm not going to be that easy," Paul said, in a determined voice. Sabrina smiled wickedly at him and grabbed his cock. She ran her tongue around the head of his dick. He clenched his fists, but it didn't help as he came, Sabrina pointed his cock up in the air, so his cum missed her entirely.

Now it was my turn. I knew I could last longer than them. Sabrina ran her tongue up my shaft, then licked my balls. But I didn't cum. I stood there thinking she's got to do better than that. She licked the head of my cock. I strained but didn't cum. I was going to make her suck me. She finally put my cock in her mouth. I tried to relax to make it last as long as I could. But I didn't take long, either. She moved her head up and down a couple of times, while pressing my cock against the roof of her mouth with her tongue. That did it. I pulled my cock out and came all over her pretty breasts.

She looked up at me. "Can I go now, Michael?"

"Sure, but get some rest. Tomorrow will be just as much fun."

After Sabrina left, we talked, and watched the tape we just took. We all came over and over. Tomorrow we were all going to fuck Sabrina until our cocks didn't work anymore.

[Drifter79]

I don't know what my friends dreamed about, but my dreams woke me up and my cock was hard. We got up early and sat on the couch and waited for Sabrina. She came down wearing the same dress and still looking sexy.

"I think it's time we got to fuck you."

"No, you won't. I won't do it, and there's nothing you can do to make you." We were in trouble. We pushed too hard, now it was over.

"Are you sure?" Paul asked her.

"Yes I'm sure, you fucking idiot."

"What about the tape?"

"You forced me. If anything, you're all in trouble."

"Let's take a look and see if you look forced," Paul said calmly.

He pushed play and the TV lit up with Sabrina smiling at Paul, then sucking his dick. "You don't look forced to me."

Sabrina's lower lip quivered as she tried not to cry. Then she reached down and pulled the dress over her head. She laid down on the floor and closed her eyes. Brad was the first one to get his clothes off. He was between Sabrina's legs holding his cock against her pussy before we could say a word. With one push his little cock was in her. He fucked her pretty hard for a few seconds then pulled out and came all over her pussy.

Bill didn't seem to care the Brad's cum was dripping down Sabrina's pussy. He was in, in a second fucking her as fast as he could. It was like he was in a race to see if he could cum faster than Brad. He lasted long enough for Sabrina to start moaning, and pulling at her nipples. He did the same as Brad he pulled out and sprayed cum all over her stomach.

Harry went next and went a lot slower. He was like me. It felt so good he didn't want it to end. He fucked her long enough to work up a sweat. Sabrina enjoyed it more, too. She was moaning louder and was sucking on her nipples. Harry pulled out and came on her tits. Sabrina moaned as she watched Harry's cock cover her boobs with cum. Sabrina tried to lick every drop. What she couldn't reach with her tongue, she wiped off with her fingers, and licked then clean. My sister wasn't lying when she told Mary when she got turned on, she would lose control.

"Roll over on your hands and knees." Paul said. Sabrina didn't say a word. She got on her hands and knees and rubbed her ass up against his cock. "Just relax. This will hurt for a second or two." He rubbed his hand across Sabrina wet pussy, then stroked his cock several times. He pressed the head of his cock against Sabrina's asshole. Before Paul could move, Sabrina leaned back on his cock, forcing it into her ass. Paul didn't even have to move. Sabrina moved back and forth, fucking her own ass with Paul's dick. She moaned louder and louder, banging her hips up against Paul's hip bones. Paul came at the same time she did. Sabrina sprayed cum all over insides of her legs, and Paul pulled out and came all over her ass. Then Paul rolled over on the floor.

Sabrina didn't move at all. With her ass pointing right at me, I couldn't help myself. I pushed my cock up her ass too. I grabbed her hips, and fucked away. I couldn't believe how her ass squeezed my cock. I reached around and rubbed Sabrina's clit while I fucked her ass. She came again, soaking my hand. I gritted my teeth and kept banging away. When she came again, I couldn't help but cum. As she came it felt like her asshole would squeeze my cock in two. I shot three big loads up her ass. Then I sat down behind her and watched cum run out of her ass.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We fucked her time after time, until we couldn't even get hard anymore. Sabrina was nothing but a shaking ball of flesh in the middle of the floor. She was covered in sweat and cum. She didn't even move the last time I fucked her. She just lay there and came.

We all went up stairs and took showers. When we got back down stairs, Sabrina was still curled up on the floor. "You'd better get up. You need to get cleaned up before Mom and Dad get home."

Sabrina whimpered something I couldn't hear and crawled out of the room and up the stairs. As we watched Sabrina crawl to the top of the stairs, Harry said he'd better get home. Everyone agreed the fun was over and left with him. Before I could close the door, Val walked in. I had forgotten about Val. Sabrina was always so mean to him. I should have let him have some fun, too. Well, it was too late now. Maybe the next time my parents went out of town I'd let him. I guess I never mentioned Val. He's my dog. I think he'd have fun having Sabrina play with him. I groaned as my cock got hard again.

[warbird]

I also have some erotic short stories to share. Here is one:

Sometimes on an International flight you can get lucky!

“Excuse me, I think that’s my seat!”

Glancing up from his spreadsheet, Greg Lancaster liked what he saw. Surely no more than eighteen or nineteen, the fresh-faced youngster was, if not the prettiest girl to ever cast a shadow across his retinas, certainly the best-looking in his residual memory. Drooling was not an option, and in the wake of his marginally over-emphasised “Oh yes, of course,” he clutched the lap-top to his chest, intending for her to squeeze past to the window-seat.. “Thanks,” she replied, inching her way forward delicately and providing Greg thereby, a momentarily arousing view of her compact rear-end in passing. “Oh God, please let her trip and fall in my lap,” he prayed silently, whilst watching that skin-tight little skirt in transit, her rather shapely thighs - a work in progress.

The moment closed out and the fantasies by necessity re-caged. Smiling at her briefly, he returned the notebook to his knee and continued adding data to column “F.” The red-eye from Sydney to Perth is among the world’s stranger flights. Officially listed at three hours and ten minutes in duration, with the head-on influence of the ‘Fremantle Doctor’ – a high altitude wind that blows-inland along the Western Australian coastline, the flight can be protracted to well over five hours. Conversely, the return trip can be undertaken in as little as two hours fifty, courtesy of the same wind-swept conditions. In lieu of the available meteorological data, check-in had already advised this to be a five-hour flight in all probability.

Column “F” was beginning to fade in interest with the close proximity of Miss teenage distraction and the cruelly appealing scent that seems to cling to scrubbed and desirable young bodies such that she possessed. He wondered if in five hours time he would even know her name?

In his mid twenties himself, Greg was engaged to be married and knew his mind was wandering along fully undisciplined paths here. It wasn’t paying heed to his instructions quite obviously – probably the sudden exposure to that tight little skirt he reasoned. Out of the corner of his eye he could see she was reading-up on what appeared to be University notes - probably for her final exams in November he guessed. Hooked-up to her Walkman, she seemed (and probably was) oblivious to all around her.

As the plane taxied down the runway, she inclined her head to glance out the window, Rain was sleeting down now and as the 747 climbed rapidly, banking to the left towards the western corridor, the diffused halo of the city lights could clearly be seen to the east.

Right now though, Greg wasn’t dwelling on the aesthetic beauty of Sydney’s twinkling lights from a five thousand foot aspect, he was simply gazing at the girls slim shoulders, pretty blonde hair swept back in the most feminine of neat pony-tails….that spot just beneath her hairline that he would so like to kiss….. “I don’t think so Greg,” the image of his young wife-to-be smiled at him sweetly from his conscience

Column “F” snared his attentions once again, although who really cared how the October sales figures were going to pan out when you could be pondering instead whether that was a conventional bra or a sexy little push-up, whose straps were so engagingly visible beneath the girl’s lacy top. He was still considering those very possibilities a short time later when the girl packed away her books and Walkman.

“Really sorry, but would you excuse me for a moment,” she smiled at him, “I have to get to the overhead locker.”

This time he was treated to a forward view as she sidled across in front of him. The most perfect of young breasts passed but inches from his face. No more than a 32A he decided, not that any span of thirty two inches anywhere in the modern world could possibly encapsulate a more alluring set of curves. Even that mere hint of cleavage showed that God had been right on his game that night back in 1987 or 1988 - whenever it was the girl’s parents had gotten substantially beyond the light-petting stage.

It also gave Greg an opportunity to take in her facial details, not that this did anything but worsen the situation. A slightly softer version of young actress Keira Knightley he decided. High cheek-bones aided by a truly flawless complexion, set with ice-blue eyes and a mouth – if it hadn’t been kissed yet – was one that was most definitely needed to be….and soon!.

How many hearts was this beautiful visage going to subsequently break?…..his own already headed the list. “Student?” he asked as casually as possible as she inched herself back in.

“Yes…. unfortunately,” she smiled, “Got my finals in a few weeks.”

“You live in Sydney?” he added, desperately wanting to prolong the conversation. She looked puzzled by the question for a moment. “Ohh, no, I live in Perth. I just came to Sydney to stay with friends during the holiday. What about you? do you live in Western Australia?”

Her voice was as pretty as her expression. He was sure he gulped. “Nope, I’m a NSW boy (he chose the word deliberately)…just going to Perth on business for a Company meeting…budgets and boring stuff like that I’m afraid. I think I’d rather be back studying for my HSC,” he grinned….”I’m Greg by the way.”

She took his hand. “I’m Candace, nice to meet you.”

‘Candace’ so suited her he was thinking. He had all but forgotten his fiancee’s name at this juncture. Right then the stewardess parked her trolley alongside them in the aisle and enquired as to their preference for a drink. Tempted as he was to ask for a bottle of champagne and two glasses, they settled for a ginger ale each. He was desperately hoping she wouldn’t ask how old he was because he would have to have lied. He knew he looked little more than twenty-two or three and that he prayed was her assessment too.

“Pretty late for a young girl to be flying alone isn’t it?” he said, changing the subject, “We’re not going to be touching down in Perth till almost two in the morning?”

“It’s OK,” she breezed, “I’m eighteen, I think I can look after myself, besides, dad will meet me at the arrivals gate to take me home. I’ll be fine.” Greg barely had time to acknowledge this fact when the cabin-lights dimmed and the in-flight theater flickered on. As the credits for “Road Hogs” began to roll, Candace muttered “I’m really tired, I don’t think I can stay awake for this,” as she pushed the tray back into its upright position.

“Would you like me to get a blanket for you?” he asked, bitterly disappointed that he was to be imminently denied her company for the rest of the flight. “Yes please,” she answered sweetly, “It’s getting quite cold isn’t it?” He hadn’t really thought about it, but now that he did – she was right. He retrieved one for himself also from the overhead locker.

Some ten minutes later, the first time he dared glance in her general direction, he was mortified to discover she was still marginally awake. She smiled at him, which not only served to magnify his voyeuristic guilt but caused him to suffer aortic palpitations on account of her tempting closeness. So innocent and pretty did she look, wedged comfortably into that little niche between the seat and fuselage, her head resting against the small pillow, that he could but return her smile before re-aligning his gaze dutifully upon John Travolta and the small screen.

“What the Hell am I thinking?” he chastised himself silently. “She’s just a kid!” Another ten minutes and she appeared to be asleep. He was now able to study the facial intricacies of what was undoubtedly one of Nature’s finer achievements. Essentially soft-featured, her skin was indeed smooth and blemish-free. Resident in her cheeks the flush of youth, whilst between them, that most delicate and appealing set of lips trembled perceptibly, in sync with her respiratory rate.

How feminine those small locks of hair that now lay across her forehead, almost in defiance of the symmetry of her other features, he thought to himself. Stirring slightly, the blanket slipped and leaning over he pulled it up for her. What he would have given to be able to kiss her just once….even in her sleep!

[warbird]

Barely at the half-way point of the movie and Greg was distracted by some unexpected lateral movement. Restless quite obviously, the girl was now lying against his shoulder, still comfortably wedged into her night pillow. Unwilling to move her, he simply raised the intervening armrest to its upright position and retracted his own seat until gravity caused her to nestle protectively into his upper arm. Her face was now but inches from his, he could even smell her sweet breath. She was an angel, of that he had no doubt, but at that angle – an angel with marginally visible cleavage so tempting, he had to count backwards from ten to restore the status quo.

Most everyone else had turned off their night-lights now and “Road Hogs” was obviously playing to a less than enthusiastic audience. He was finding the lightly pressured contact with the young girl most enervating and he longed for her to slip across even more. She looked so vulnerable he almost ached with hope.

Drawing up his own blanket, for a distinct chill was pervading the cabin, he found it impossible to sleep. Not that the girl was disturbing him at all – she had neither moved or stirred in any way. The soft rise and fall of her chest suggested she was deeply asleep and as comfortable as a Polar bear mid-hibernation.

Unseemly thoughts were gathering on the periphery of his consciousness. He tried ignoring them but they would not be silenced.

“She’ll never wake up – not if you’re really careful Greg.” “You just gonna sit there and let this opportunity pass you by loser?”

It was that final insult, “What are you man? a doer or a dreamer?” that finally spurred him into action. Dammit, those all-tempting curves were now less than a foot away!

Drawing his own blanket up to chest level, so as to hide all trace of his imminent digital exploratory, his hand inched his way beneath the coarse material. Studying her face for the least sign of wakefulness his fingers had encroached to within centimetres of the underside of the girl’s breasts. His own heart-rate itself loud enough now to waken the dead, he stopped short of his quarry. He couldn’t do this! This was sexual assault – plain and simple. Besides. how would he ever explain his actions?….to Candace? His fiancee? The Court?…Perhaps just one gentle squeeze and then if she woke, pretend to be asleep himself…only another couple of inches after all?

Even as his hand very gently encircled the girls left breast, barely making the slightest contact – he could feel the heat and decisive stirrings between his own legs. The intrinsic forbidden nature of his groping made it just that much hotter. His fingers closed around the young girl’s curves and imperceptibly squeezed that murderously soft and sexy mound.

Candace stirred but slightly and he was frozen with fear though not daring to relinquish his hold, in case such movement betrayed his encamped position. He thought he detected the onset of a smile but could not be sure. Again she resumed her regular breathing.

He was able to support the full weight now of her small breast yet had he been asked to describe the feeling right at that moment, words would have failed him. Buoyed by his progress to date, Greg squeezed once more, cupping her entire breast now and revelling in the sensations being afforded him. The girl murmured slightly and seemed almost to be nestling in to him closer. Moving his hand across with infinite care, he gently grasped her right breast and was immediately rewarded by an increased stiffening in the nether regions of his lap. How he wished he might check the lie and contours of the land beneath Candace’s own skirt. For now though, he was up to his fingernails in lust for the wondrously hot little female that lay so open and vulnerable right beside him, student or not.

There was nothing for it – he had to do it!

Ensuring that she was covered by the blanket, pretty much to her shoulders, he allowed his hand to drop to the girl’s waist. Proving far easier than he had supposed, he managed to slip his hand up beneath her top – the heat from her body cauterising his logic circuits and over-riding all sense of caution. At the point he reached the lower edge of her bra, so flimsy an article, one might have supposed it was supporting little more than just a pair of prepubescent nipples, he gulped.

Candace, sighing now audibly, wriggled in her seat and made as if to turn away from him. He figured he was but moments from discovery, being unable to extricate his hand. She would wake up and discover the facts of the case. As luck would have it however, she settled back in her original position, snuggling up against her would-be lover with but a soft murmur.

On a hiding to nothing, he slipped his hand up inside that closeted air-space and all but came in his pants as he felt the girl’s beautiful soft breast, finally skin to skin. Her nipple responded quickly to the intruder and as he began to manipulate her, Candace’s murmurs became more audible. Whilst far from moaning, she was reacting to his touch and a gentle smile was clearly evident on her face now. More than anything he wanted to kiss her and tell her how beautiful she was. That he could never do this was exquisite torture indeed. Suddenly he felt her right arm in transit beneath the blanket, bringing her hand up to of all places – her other breast. He dared not move, even as she commenced pleasuring herself whilst still deeply asleep. Unable to see, but fully able to detect, Greg watched awe-struck as the girl’s hand roamed upwards beneath the blanket, caressing herself albeit, through her top. The stewardess glanced across at row K in passing, seats 9 and 10 in particular. “How sweet,” she thought to herself, that nice young man snuggled up with the young girl there. If only her own boyfriend were so attentive!

Past caring for his own well-being, all Greg could think about was what wondrous prize lay hidden there beneath that tight little skirt. If her murmurs were anything to go by, there certainly would be no need for a can of WD40. Managing somehow to find an entry-window between her upper thighs and the skirt itself, he propelled his hand almost to her panties without making any contact with skin – smooth and hot enough to seal inarguably, an appointment with the legal profession. Not that it would ever have gotten that far – Candace’s father would unquestionably be leaving him a quadriplegic and bleeding profusely on the baggage carousel.

Asleep or not, his first-up contact with the front of her panties produced what could only be interpreted as an embryonic moan from those pretty lips and if she wasn’t already wet and primed – even asleep – then he was a bad judge of female arousal.

Her legs parted, at least to the very restricted limit that tight little skirt would allow. It was enough though for him to slip a finger up beneath the leg of her panties whereupon he discovered a Utopia that is most certainly denied the average traveler. The lips of her pussy were completely awash and there was definitely a ‘vacancy’ sign hanging up there. Not even taking care now to avoid detection, he pushed a finger well inside the girl, passing comfortably beneath her fully intact hymen, not that this would have been any great hindrance given, his lust right then.

Pumping his middle finger well into the promised land, the girl was beginning to moan way too loud for comfort. There was no choice. As he inclined his head and kissed her deeply, he felt her hips beginning now to respond to his invasive digital therapy.

He sensed her orgasm marshalling itself even before she did. His own undies he knew were sticky as all Hell but nothing could detract from his intent to bring her to Heaven at thirty-five thousand feet. At the crucial moment, her eyes flickered open. In a blind panic, he withdrew his hand.

“Don’t stop now,” she whimpered in desperation, “Please, not now!”

The End.

[warbird]

Between a Rock and a Hard ...

Rebecca learns the hard way not to steal...

Rebecca was our new salesgirl. She was cute: Five feet three inches short, straight shoulder-length chestnut hair, with fucking bombastic double-D tits and surprisingly long legs that, when she wore a short skirt and shaved them smooth, I just wanted to wrap around my head and lick from top to bottom. But, In spite of her being attractive and polite and eager and hardworking, I felt compelled to degrade her as regularly as possible, from announcing her incipient termination (“Heard it through the corporate grapevine, sweetie!”) todemanding of her impossible chores (sponge-bathing the elderly women who came in to get their hair done, removing a recalcitrant layer of grime from the children’s department with only a bristle brush and a gallon of bleach, etc.). Unfortunately, we were (technically) equals, and I had only seniority on my side, so none of these things ever actually happened; and we were forced to develop a friendly acquaintance based on a shared dry sense of humor and a penchant for jocular sadism.

All this would be nice enough, and pretty ho-hum for you, the reader, if not for an incident precipitated by overconfidence on Rebecca’s and that ineluctable yearning for sexier, shinier, costlier undergarments so unfortunately endemic to the weaker sex. You see, Rebecca was the queen of cockteases, and everything she wore was cut in such a way as to show off the maximum amount of flesh. Her jeans were too low, her skirts were too high, her sweaters were too low-cut, and her midriffs cut too high… You get the idea. This meant that along with the latest celebrity gossip, I also got an update each day on undergarments were in her favor that morning as she dressed herself. As we counted our opening tills, I idly noticed she was wearing red and blue panties today under. Her ass looked great, but it was 10 in the morning and I was hungover, too much so even to tell her that her ass looked great.

Later on that day, though, I had mostly recovered from the night before and was even feeling a little spring in my step, and we flirted off and on until it was time to close the store at 8. As we counted our closing tills, I noticed something odd: This morning she had been wearing blue-and-red panties; now they were nowhere to be seen, and in their place was a black lace thong. I didn’t say anything just yet. There was still a lot of money to count, and I wanted to get in a good drooling session watching that plush ass work and bend as she counted the money; and more importantly, I wanted to figure out what was going on.

It took me a while to overcome my disbelief. As honest as she seemed, the most likely explanation was that she had stuffed her plain-Jane cotton panties into her purse and slipped into the much sexier, much pricier, black lace panties. Not only that, but she had avoided the security cameras by doing it all while in the dressing room. You see, management had them taken out a few years back after discovering a thriving black market among the security personnel and the shop clerks of high-quality black-and-white nudes of the more attractive female customers. Good times.

Anyway, it had been a good day, and after having chalked up a healthy commission sending some sucker home in an insultingly overpriced, ill-fitting suit, I was feeling my oats a little bit, and decided to have a little fun:

“Hey,” I said, and waited until she gave me her attention: “Nice undies,” I said with a wink. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“What do you mean, ‘nice undies’? Is that how you talk to a lady, you perv?” she shot back, trying to be intimidating. I laughed.

“All I’m saying is, they’re a whole lot nicer than the ones you came in wearing – the ones that are now stuffed in your purse.”

Her tan skin was now the color of porcelain. I didn’t say anything. I just waited and let her sweat. She eyeballed me for a minute, her expression visibly nervous, the pen she was using to balance the ledger trembling like a leaf in a strong breeze. She pushed her hair over her ear and lowered her voice: “You’re not going to tell… Are you?”

I chuckled easily.

“Noooo… Rebecca, of course I’m not going to tell. We’re friends! I wouldn’t think of telling anyone. Especially not if I happened to get drunk and forget I ever said this… Especially not if I were meeting Brad tonight for drinks at Spuds… Especially not if—”

“You wouldn’t! Do you even know what would happen if Brad found out?!” she demanded in a hushed whisper, even though it was just she and I in the store.

I gasped loudly, enjoying and prolonging her torture: “Oh, I don’t even want to think what medieval horrors Brad would demand of you before shipping your cute little ass off to Corporate for a real talking-to. Hell, that kinky bastard would probably have you upside-down and nipple-clamped!”

“So you’re not going to tell?”

“Now, hold on, darling: I did NOT say I wasn’t going to tell. All I’m saying…” I crooned, as I leaned in to get a whiff of her sweetly-scented skin and touch the tips of her silky hair, “is… you might get out of it with a little, uh, ‘gentle persuasion.’”

She gulped. An innocent young girl like her had probably never been backed into a corner like this before. Now, facing certain firing, humiliation in front of her family (whose opinions of her were paramount to her self-esteem), and a black mark on her job record, she was a bit more… pliable. She gulped again.

Croakily, she said, “OK. OK, I get the point. So just what do you want from me, then?”

“I just want you to help me make sure the dressing rooms are clean.”

I fingered her cream cashmere sweater. She had it draped loosely over her shoulders and buttoned about three holes above her waistline, leaving most of her tan belly exposed, including a sparkling jewel in her bellybutton. She turned her head when I tried to kiss her, leading me to plant one on her cheek instead of her mouth. No big deal. I pushed the sweater off of her shoulder and remarked, “I see you were smart enough to steal the companion piece, too,” as I planted a row of gentle kisses along her soft brown skin. I could feel her loosening up. I kissed my way back across her shoulder and up her neck, causing her to shudder and sigh as she rolled her head back in pleasure.

“Lose the sweater,” I said and stepped back to watch.

Looking me straight in the eye, she slowly unbuttoned the tortoise-shell buttons of the sweater and let it fall to the bench behind her. Her chestnut hair fell almost to her breasts; her soft, tan skin glowed lusciously; and her full breasts and skinny waist gave her body a dramatic curve and me a hard-on.

“Take it off,” I said.

She watched me, like a gazelle watching a lion, as she reached behind her back and undid the clasp. She slipped it over her shoulders and it fell to the floor. Her large, firm breasts stared back at me, plain and dumb and shaped like a round square, not movie-star tits, those perfectly spherical silicon orbs, but real tits, capped by pale pink nipples with an indistinct border, and just underneath the surface, a network of raw blue veins to carry the sensations of a wet-hot mouth straight to the pleasure center of her brain.

I ran my fingertips up the sides of her body, at once toned and soft, as I made my way up to her bare breasts. She watched me caress them, squeezing and pulling, kneading it lovingly, like a baker making dough, and I could feel the heat coming off her body as she became more and more aroused. I leaned in again, and this time she was open to a kiss. In fact, she kissed me hard with an open mouth, as if it were her the last kiss she’d ever get. She wrapped her arms around my neck. Her tongue, slippery and deft, traced the outlines of my mouth, my lips, my tongue… I could feel her nipples growing knobby and erect under my fingertips. I continued to squeeze her breasts as I kissed down her neck, down her breasts, until I reached those long erect nipples. When at last I slipped a hard nipple in my mouth and ran my tongue over it, she moaned and whispered, Oh, God, baby, don’t stop… I didn’t. I kept sucking and tonguing and squeezing, first one breast and then the other, until they were shiny with spit, until her breasts had swollen to nearly half-again their original size, until she was moaning and panting and clutching my hair in her fist as she came. When I came up for air, she was glowing with sweat.

“Get on your knees,” I said. She looked at me in disbelief.

“Are you serious?” she said, her voice trembling, “I thought you just wanted to feel me up!”

I unbuckled my belt. I unbuttoned the side button on my slacks and grasped my zipper between finger and thumb.

[warbird]

“Get on your knees,” I repeated.

Hesitantly, she knelt, one stockinged knee dropping down onto the carpet at a time, until she was at eye level with my crotch.

“Now, unzip me, and take my cock out.”

She obliged me. At first, she tried to slip it out through the piss-slit in my boxers, which would have been painful and difficult seeing that my cock was just shy of eight inches and hard as a rock, so I chided her into seducing me like an adult: “Are we in middle school, here? Take the fucking boxers off!” She laughed and slid my boxers down to my ankles.

“Does that please the master?” she asked with a smartass pout.

“Not nearly as much as you’re about to,” I replied. She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth.

A short digression here: I may have been wrong earlier in calling her a cocktease. Not only was she willing to give it up under a small amount of duress, thus belying the “tease” moniker, but she was as able a cocksucker as I have had the privilege of knowing, too. If a cocktease gives it up quietly in a secluded dressing room, does that make her less a cocktease? If a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound? Surely you’re not on this website to find out, so now back to the action:

She licked her lips and slipped them over the head of my cock. I felt her tongue run a circle around the ridge of my cockhead and shuddered. She braved the further reaches of my shaft as she opened her mouth in a wide ‘O’ and slid down to the midway point. Her mouth was moist and hot, and as stiff as I was already, I could feel myself getting harder yet. She slid back. Then down again, then back, getting a steady rhythm going as she reached behind me and clutched my ass cheeks for balance. I sat down on the bench, mostly so I wouldn’t fall over when I inevitably went weak in the knees, but also to give her a better position.

All of a sudden, she pulled off my cock with a smack and looked up at me quizzically: “You like how I suck your cock?” she asked innocently. I nodded.

“Good,” she said, “’Cause I’ve wanted to suck you off for a long time, I just…”

“Needed to be induced by blackmail?”

She giggled. “Yeah, something like that.”

She held my cock in her hand and licked a solid line of shiny saliva from my deliciously sensitive balls all the way up my shaft until she wrapped her lips around my cock and again took half of it in her mouth. Her chestnut hair swayed back and forth as she bobbed up and down. She polished my knob, swirling her tongue over and around the head each time she came up, following her mouth with her hand, all the while gently tugging at my nutsack while I got closer and closer to blowing my load. She pulled off, jerked me off for a minute, while grinning at me triumphantly. She literally had me by the balls.

“You’re about to come,” she said in a low, breathy voice.

“So?” I replied.

“What if I’m not ready for you to come? What if I want you to” – she paused to spit on the head of my cock while continuing to tug at it – “fuck my brains out first?”

I grinned back. Now I was the triumphant one. “What makes you think I can’t do both?”

She looked shocked. “I just hope you’re not just putting me on…” she said, as she dove back down onto my cock and swallowed my shaft again and again. I groaned so loudly I was sure I had outed us. I felt a massive orgasm welling up from deep in my balls, and I quickly stood up, wrapped my cock in those big firm tits, and started titty-fucking her like my life depended on it. As one thick white strand of hot cum after another jumped from my cock, she squeezed her tits together around my shaft, my jizz splashing on her neck, onto her tits, even in her hair. She rubbed my jizz onto her tits until they were shiny-slick, her bouncing on her knees the whole time as she tried to catch it all, to imbibe my essence. When I had finally exhausted myself, I slumped back down onto the bench in a stupor, my whole body tingling with pleasure.

"Come here,” I said. As she stood over me, I ran my fingertips along her stockings, tracing a path up her leg to her skirt. I pushed the skirt up farther, kneading her inner thighs, making her sigh and moan softly. Slowly, I graduated from her inner thighs to rubbing her cunt through the soft lace of the thong. I could feel her getting wet. Heat emanated from her pussy. I couldn’t wait to see the intricate floral folds of her pussy, smell its sweet musk, taste its nectar… I had been dreaming of her cunt for months. When the timing seemed right, I slipped a couple fingers under the lace of the thong, and began rubbing in tight little circles. I kept rubbing, over and over again, in tight little circles, as she closed her eyes and opened her legs and grew wetter and wetter, her head rolled back as if in a hypnotic trance, her body gently swaying to the rhythm of my fingers. I looked down at my dick. The shaft was bulging with veins; the head was huge and purple, and almost appeared to be breathing as it swelled with blood. It looked primitive and ugly and dangerous.

I slid the thong down to her knees, and she kicked it off (leaving the high heels on, however!). She straddled me, grabbed my cock with one hand, and guided it to the opening in her legs. She allowed the whole length of my cock to rest on her pussy without entering, just spreading the swollen lips of her cunt. She rode me like this for several minutes, her short pubic hairs scratching me while the juices of her sex made my cock slippery and painfully hard. With her lips parted and head thrown back in a perpetual low moan, I could tell she was horny as fuck, but had her doubts. She wanted to scratch the itch without going all the way. I doubted she could.

It didn’t take long to prove me right. She gave in at last. She lowered herself onto me slowly, letting my swollen head spread her wet lips and finally slip into her dripping cunt. She stopped short. “You’re bigger than I thought!” she gasped. She raised herself off me and a doubtful expression crossed her face. I was getting worried, when she closed her eyes and this time let the full length of my manhood penetrate her with a gasping moan. She began riding me slowly. I could feel the walls of her pussy, slick and silky, squeezing my cock each time she rose, until she was riding me at a gallop, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed in intense concentration. She threw her hands around my neck and began kissing me urgently, whispering in my ear, “I’ve wanted this for a long time!” She leaned forward, her warm breasts resting on my chest, and began humping my cock, sliding me in and out of her pussy almost vertically. Just as suddenly, she leaned back and braced herself on my legs in search of a new sweet spot. Her moans grew in intensity as she arched her back and bucked her hips to hit all the right spots. I watched between my legs the beautiful sight of my cock splitting her delicate pussy again and again. With one hand she squeezed her own breast while the other hand fingered her clit desperately. She was so close to coming; I could just see it in her tense, drawn face. I reached up and squeezed her swollen, heaving breast and sucked on her long nipples like I had before, drawing them in and tonguing them all over ( oh jesus i’m cumming i’m cumming oh fuck me fuck me fuck me baby aaaah aaaahh oh yes yes yes yes yes aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!) She was a beautiful sweaty mess, writhing on my cock to squeeze out every last little bit of pleasure as she came and came again.

There was only one little problem. I hadn’t yet come. I stood up, still inside her, and laid her down on the padded bench beside us. Throwing her legs over my shoulder, I began pounding her pussy like a wild man. Her wet cunt, fresh from coming, held me tightly as I held her legs up in the air and pounded. I could feel a big load coming, and as I watched those big tits ripple with every hit, I knew exactly where it was going. I was close to coming. If I waited any longer I wouldn’t be able to jizz on her tits. But, God, her pussy felt good… so warm, so tight, so wet… I wanted to blast those tits again, but she kept squeezing me with her pussy, drawing me in tighter and tighter. I just couldn’t. In the end, I shot a huge load of hot cum deep into her pussy, and as I withdrew, it oozed out and dribbled onto the floor, her legs still high in the hair, her inner thighs slick and wet.

She had a big smile on her face. Now it was my turn to look like a sweaty mess.

“Bet you didn’t think work was going to be this much fun, did you?”

I couldn’t think of anything to say. She stood up, close to me and smelling of sex.

“Well, I’m going to get going now, if you don’t mind. May I have my panties back, please?”

I handed her the black lace thong that had started this whole thing. She slipped into it as casually as if nothing had happened.

“Thanks,” she said, with an sarcastic grin. “Maybe next time we could fuck under less, uh – dire – circumstances. Maybe.”