Kinky Erotica
"Mystery Man" a sex story by Iona Blair
Kendra thought of him as her “Mystery Man,” for although she had been having hot sex with Craig for months, she knew very little about him. That made it extra exciting.
He was the very essence of masculinity, with his dark good looks and athletic body. The black clothing, which he favored, added its own special magic to the mystery factor.
She breathed in the intoxicating maleness of him as he stripped off her clothes, leaving her naked except for her panties. While he unbuckled his belt, she knelt on all fours on the bed, knowing her full breasts and curly red hair looked good to him.
Moving in behind her, he caressed her breasts and tummy, kissing her neck and whispering hot talk. Kendra moaned and swished her ass. Her panties were soaked.
“Fuck me now,” she begged.
Craig tugged the crotch of her panties to one side and eased his cock into her dripping cunt. He had a panty fetish and liked her to keep them on during sex. He fucked her slowly at first, stroking and teasing until the tempo increased to fever pitch. Then he pounded her hard until she screamed in the throes of release.
Out of glazed eyes, Kendra could see the neon sign from the restaurant across the street flashing across the walls of her bedroom. The commonplace suddenly appeared erotic in this feverish world of the senses. She rolled over onto her back and soon they were fucking again.
Craig’s iron-hard cock knocked against her G-Spot with rhythmic precision.
“You like that, honey, don’t you?” he asked seductively, and raised her legs higher for even deeper penetration. “I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you go off big time.”
“Oh God,” Kendra moaned. “You’re killing me, Craig.”
She could feel the build-up of pressure deep within her womb, the almost unbearable need to bear down. When she did, a gush of clear liquid pumped out, soaking herself, the bed and Craig. It was just as well she had had the foresight, to protect the mattress with a rubber sheet.
“Naughty girl, I thought you’d peed yourself,” he whispered. “I’m going to spank you now.” It was a regular part of their ritual. Kendra bent obediently across his lap.
“Time to take these off.” He eased her panties down to her knees and spanked her bare ass until it glowed pink.
Knickers by Lee Cropper
Kendra moaned, tensed her legs and flexed her feet. “Oh yes …” she gasped. “I've been a bad girl, spank me good!”
After the spanking, he toyed with the ring through her pierced clit, first with his thumb, then with his tongue. It glistened with secretions and twitched invitingly. Keeping his thumb over her clit, he tucked his fingers inside her soaking cunt and masturbated her. Kendra heaved, groaned, and sucked on the fingers of his other hand.
“God, you’re hotter than a firecracker,” he breathed, as her eyes rolled back in her head and she began to squirt.
“You act as if you had nothing to do with it,” she gasped, pumping out the fluid that so amazed him.
He held her, stroking her back and bum until the throes of orgasm had passed.
“That was magic,” she murmured.
“Go get the paddle,” he ordered, in a mock stern tone. “I’m going to give you another spanking.” He was talking about a small jade-handled instrument much like a table tennis bat. Kendra handed it to him, and then bent obediently over the chair.
Craig paddled her already pink bum and swatted the backs of her thighs as well.
The paddle was designed to make a loud swishing noise, but to sting only lightly.
Kendra fondled her breasts to increase her arousal. The paddling was making her so horny that she started to pant. “Bad girl,” scolded Craig. He spanked her a little harder, then sat down on a chair and ordered her to straddle him.
Kendra moved her hungry cunt onto his steely ramrod of a cock. His balls were drawn tight, high up into his scrotum, the telltale sign that he was super horny and would not last.
She kissed him passionately, working her tongue deep into his mouth, while she fucked him with furious abandon. “I’m gonna fuck you good,” she gasped. “You’re a bad boy. You’ve made me so bloody horny …”
“You do that darlin’ …” Craig fondled her breasts, and then ran his hands down her back to cup her ass.
“You spanked my bare bum with a paddle,” Kendra accused, half-mad with desire, her hips pumping wildly. “I’m gonna fuck you, fuck you, fuck you …”
Craig teased her anus with his pinkie, and then slipped it inside. It was too much for Kendra, who exploded through this added stimulation, like an overheated geyser. She gasped and began to crawl around the kitchen floor tossing her head from side to side like one demented.
“You’re asking for another whipping,” Craig threatened, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back to bed. She was exhausted but still tense with excitement. “I know just what you need.”
He mounted her and put his cock inside her. Her eager muscles clamped around it and she moved her hips.
“Stop,” he ordered. “We both have an early start in the morning. If we stay like this and neither one of us moves, it will calm you down.”
“But I want to fuck,” Kendra moaned.
“Please …”
“In the morning, just rest for now.” He rolled off her when she fell asleep.
“I never would have believed I could fall asleep with a cock inside me,” Kendra admitted to him later. “I was still so super horny.”
“Just like a pacifier.”
They fucked in the morning, lying on their sides in the spoon position. “Aw that’s so good,” Kendra moaned, as Craig’s fingers toyed with her tummy and clit and his cock penetrated high up into her cunt. She soon began to squirt.
“Are you gonna spank me again?” She loved getting her ass tanned by this sexy hunk of a guy; her only complaint was that he didn’t spank her hard enough.
“A tongue spanking only,” he laughed, and spread her cunt open with his thumbs. Then he mouth-fucked her until she spurted hot fluid all over his face.
But lately a disturbing new element had entered the picture. She had found panties missing. If Craig hadn't taken them, who had? He did like a lot of panty play during sex. She had been quite surprised when he asked her to keep them on in bed. Even when he spanked her, he didn’t take them off completely, but left them dangling around her knees. The kinkiness of it appealed to her, but she didn’t want to believe her mysterious lover was a panty thief––it destroyed the image.
“Aren’t you jumping to conclusions?” asked her friend, Judy. They were on a coffee break at the department store where they worked. “Couldn’t you have just misplaced your undies?”
“It’s not likely. There are a couple of pairs missing.”
They rinsed out their cups and walked back to the office, which was located on the mezzanine floor. Kendra noticed that queues had formed at all the cashier counters. The store was always crowded on a Friday afternoon.
“You don't really know much about Craig though, do you?” pressed Judy, settling down at her computer. “What did he tell you he was again?”
“A freelance journalist.”
“Yeah, well that's convenient for him. Nothing you can check up on.”
“Look could we just drop this? I already know all that. Please don’t rub it in.”
It was ironic, she thought, that what had attracted her to Craig at the start––the mystery of the unknown––was now beginning to work against her. Yet she couldn't honestly see him as a panty-sniffer.
“What's the big deal anyway?” demanded Judy. “Even if the guy does like to sniff panties and jerk himself off with them, it's not as if it's a crime.”
But the next suspicion Kendra would have about Craig surely was a crime. It would eclipse all thoughts of panties, stolen or otherwise, for she discovered that the keys to the store––which she had been given when promoted to Assistant Manager–– were missing.
“I can't find them, Judy. And I've looked everywhere,” she wailed into the phone. “I know I brought them home yesterday and put them in their usual place on the dresser.”
“You think you did,” corrected Judy. “By the way, who was in your flat last night?”
“Well, Craig was here …” Memories of their torrid encounter made the blood rush to her face and her cunt throb with longing. He had fucked every part of her starting at her feet–she had pressed the soles together to made a snug cunt and when he came, he squirted cum all over her toes then rubbed it in between them.
Her real cunt was next. First, he bound her hands to the headboard with a scarf, and tied another one around her eyes as a blindfold. Then he fucked her long and hard, missionary style.
Next came her ass. He bent her over the bed and finger-fucked it with KY Jelly until the horny little hole tried to suck his finger in. “It's ready and right,” Kendra had moaned, all the anal play making her hornier than a bitch in heat. Craig had eased in his cock and reamed her until she howled with delight.
“Ever been Dutch fucked?” he asked, tweaking her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
She shook her head. “What's that?”
“Fucking between the breasts.”
“Sounds interesting. How about a demonstration?”
He wasted no time in obliging.
By the time he reached her mouth, his last port of call, Kendra was half-mad with desire. She remembered how she had snowballed him. How she had milked his cock with her tongue and lips until he exploded. Then she had transferred the cum from her mouth into his in the longest, most passionate kiss she had ever given.
“You'll have to report this, if the keys don't show up,” insisted Judy, bringing her back to the present with an unpleasant thump.
“You've probably just mislaid them.”
But although Kendra turned her flat upside down all weekend in a desperate attempt to find them, the keys were nowhere to be found. She telephoned Craig's cell phone––her only means of contacting him––but he did not answer. Instead, she was met with a recording that said his mailbox was full.
“Have you no idea at all where he lives?” questioned Judy.
Kendra shook her head and took a long swig at her gin and tonic. They were in the Raven pub surrounded by singing merrymakers. It was here that she had met Craig. She glanced around her at the old-fashioned bar with its brass railing and the snug through the wall. Memories came flooding back. It had been New Year's Eve and the attraction between them had been immediate and mutual.
“I want to jump your bones,” she had giggled, more than a little tipsy. She had done just that, on the very same night.
“I said, don't you know any of his friends?” prompted Judy, growing impatient.
“Sorry …no, no I don’t. He said he travelled around a lot on assignments. I often wondered if he might be married.”
“That didn't bother you at all?”
“No. I realise it's hard to understand, but the sex between us was so phenomenal, it eclipsed everything else. Not knowing who he was added a sense of danger and excitement.”
“Crikey, you are a lulu, aren't you?” exclaimed Judy, but not unkindly. She tossed her drink back. “Let's have another round.”
* * *
Kendra reported the keys missing first thing on Monday morning. She said they must have dropped out of her pocket while she'd been out walking. The Manager said he would have the locks changed right away.
“Don't be surprised if he docks your next paycheck,” warned Judy. “Locksmiths aren't cheap, and this is one stingy place to work, as you well know.”
Kendra couldn't really believe that Craig had taken the keys with a view to breaking into the store, yet she wasn't entirely convinced of his innocence either. As the days passed, and he made no effort to contact her, her suspicions grew.
“You had a lucky break,” counselled Judy.
“Whether he took the keys or not, I think you should just forget about him.”
That was easier said than done though. Kendra tossed, turned, and walked the floor sleepless at night. She had become addicted to the man. Every cell and pore in her frustrated body cried out for him. She craved his touch, his smell, the sound of his voice. Her breasts ached for his lips and her cunt throbbed for the feel of his cock thrusting inside it. If he appeared at any moment and confessed to being Jack the Ripper––as well as a panty and key thief––she didn't know if she'd have the willpower to turn him away.
“The fact is I would never have suspected Craig of taking the keys, if I hadn't already been suspicious of him over the missing panties,” she said to Judy. “Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions?”
“Go with your instincts.”
“If he had kept in touch with me as usual, I'd dismiss the whole thing in a heartbeat. The panties, the keys––he may have had nothing to do with their disappearance. But this sudden absence, coming just at this time … well it's difficult to overlook as mere coincidence. Why is he ignoring me like this?”
“Because he's a bastard. Forget about him, Kendra.”
* * *
The terrific sex with Craig had left Kendra so turned on that she found it impossible to turn off again. She had to masturbate several times a day, and was still horny by bedtime. Would this fever of the blood never slow down, she wondered?
Growing tired of getting herself off with just her fingers, she invested in a Rabbit Vibrator, an incredible device that produced simultaneous vaginal and clitoral stimulation––she’d never experienced so much excitement solo before. She decided to buy one as a Christmas present for Judy. Talk about giving the gift of love!
“Isn’t it about time you had a new man in your life?” asked Judy.
Kendra shook her head. “I’m not ready for that yet.”
“It’s been months since Craig boy did a bunk.” Judy said, then added as a wicked afterthought. “With the panties and keys.”
But she was to be proven wrong, at least about the keys. For less than a week later there they were, sitting on Kendra’s desk one morning. “I … it’s my keys,” she exclaimed in disbelief. Attached was a note from the cleaners. They had found them in the bottom of the closet. “They must have fallen out of my coat pocket.”
Relief about finding the keys was quickly replaced by guilt over having suspected Craig, who clearly had had nothing to do with their disappearance, so his subsequent exit from her life was in no way connected with that.
“There’s still the missing panties though,” insisted Judy. “Maybe he figured that you suspected him of taking them, and got the dump in before you did?”
“We’ll probably never know,” said Kendra. “I doubt I’ll ever see Craig again.”
But she was wrong, as wrong as Judy had been over the missing keys. She was destined to see Craig again, or at least his photograph, and in the most unexpected way.
It was on the television news at six. Craig was one of a number of journalists who had gone missing while on assignment in Iraq. It was speculated that a militant group had captured them.
“Oh no, I don’t believe this,” she cried. Why didn’t he tell her he was going there? Why did he just take off without as much as a farewell?
“I feel like a real skunk now, for suspecting him of taking these bloody keys,” she told Judy. “That poor guy. God I hope he’s all right.”
It was going to be a rotten Christmas.
Kendra decorated a small tree and stuck it in the corner by the window. Her heart just wasn’t in it. She could hear carol singers down below and the chime of Church bells in the distance. What she wouldn’t give to have Craig safely home. Then at New Year’s, exactly a year to the day when they’d met, he telephoned.
She could hardly believe it. He sounded so close, but he told her he was still in the Middle East. The sound of his voice was like a gift from heaven. “Thank God you’re safe,” she said.
He said he’d been called over there unexpectedly, to fill in for another journalist who had cancelled at the last minute. “I planned on calling you once I had settled in at the hotel,” he explained. “But things got hairy after that …it’s a long story––it’ll have to wait ‘til I see you again.”
“So long as you’re safe nothing else matters,” sobbed Kendra. Relief had caused her eyes to well up with tears.
He told her he expected to get a flight out by the end of the week. “I’ve missed you, honey.”
“Oh, I’ve missed you too, Craig. So much.”
* * *
“That’s wonderful news,” exclaimed Judy.
Then with a touch of mischief, “I don’t suppose you asked him about the missing panties?”
“Away with you,” joked Kendra. “You know bloody well I didn’t.” Then in a more serious vein added. “Quite honestly, I don‘t give a damn about them.”
Expecting Craig to arrive sometime over the weekend, Kendra set about cleaning her flat. She stripped the bed and took the sheets and blankets down to the laundry room in the basement. There were six washers and the same number of dryers, none of them occupied. Kendra loaded in the bedding and stuck a coin in the slot. That is when she noticed her panties––thongs actually––badly mangled but still recognisable, sitting on the sorting table. Two mismatched socks sat beside them. They had been found when the machines were serviced, wrapped around the agitators. Kendra decided to wash the really flimsy stuff by hand from now on.
“It seems it’s a common enough occurrence,” she told Judy. “So if you’re ever missing any smalls, you know where to look first.”
Judy nodded. “I‘ll bear it in mind.” Then added more thoughtfully. “So that proves Craig innocent on both counts––panties and keys.”
“Oh lord, let’s just forget about it,” beseeched Kendra. “I feel guilty enough about it as it is.” However, she planned to have fun making it up to him when she got him back in her bed again.
Craig looked thinner, but apart from that, none the worse for wear. His ordeal––being held captive by a terrorist cell––certainly hadn’t dampened his libido any. In fact, it had enhanced it.
“I’m not cut out for a monk’s life,” he joked. “I dreamt of pussy––yours in particular––constantly.”
Kendra lay back languidly in a state of perfect bliss. She had never felt this sated sexually before. Of course, she’d never been fucked so thoroughly before either, in every position, in every orifice, for a solid week, they had scarcely left the bed.
But it was the little item she had purchased shortly before picking him up at the airport that really made his homecoming zing. Knowing his penchant for panties, she had invested in a crotchless pair.
“Oh my god, these are just what the doctor ordered,” he whispered. “The answer to a panty man’s dreams.” And he had pushed her down on the bed, giving her the pounding of her life.
Copyright October 2011, Iona Blair
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.