Sexy Erotica
"Jeff and April" a sex story by Steven Finkelstein
“I love moments like this, don’t you?”
“Moments like what?”
“When you’re with someone new, and both of you know what’s going to happen, and it’s just before the event. You’re both a little nervous, and excited, and the air is full of sparks. There’s that feeling of anticipation and possibility. When you’ve been with somebody a few times, it goes away. Then you start to get comfortable with each other, and the dynamic changes. That’s fine too. But I like the first encounters, because they’re new, and they feel a little dangerous. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes. Completely. I’ve never really heard it put quite that way before, but yes. You’re right.”
They continued looking at each other, April with a decidedly wicked smile on her face now that he couldn’t help but return. He liked this girl. He liked the way she thought, and he liked the way she talked, the fact that she was so up-front about her sexuality. In a sense, it was everything that he had been hoping for. By the same token, it was a little intimidating.
“Finish your drink,” she said.
He obeyed, taking several large swallows and emptying his glass. She rose and crossed the room, holding the wine bottle with one hand, stepping gracefully between the objects that littered the floor. “Come with me.” She held her hand out, and he took it, standing up and taking one large step over the coffee table, being careful not to dislodge anything from the various piles, feeling the effects of the two glasses of wine he’d just chugged down. He’d worked out earlier in the day, and eaten a light dinner, and there was a moment when he reached his full height when his head spun and there were some accompanying light spots that danced about in his vision for a couple of seconds. But then he was following April, who still had a hold of his hand, and was leading him like a blind man, one arm draped over her shoulder.
They went to her room, where she had him wait in the doorway while she did some “cleaning up,” as she put it. Her method of cleaning up was knocking books, papers, and magazines from the bed to the floor, and kicking over some of the larger piles to allow some room to maneuver around the bed. He watched the proceedings with ever increasing delight. It was hard not to get caught up with her spirit of reckless abandon.
When she had redecorated enough for her liking, she turned back toward him and pulled his body forward against hers. They were standing on one side of the bed, the only source of light in the room a lamp on the nightstand opposite them that painted everything in a Halloween-orange glow. The shade on the lamp was askew, and it had the effect of throwing exaggeratedly large shadows up on the wall, a phenomenon he had noticed in the real-time video of their mutual masturbation the precious night. As they kissed, his mouth drawing down and pressing against hers, he could see those shadows mashed together to form one larger undulating whole. She tasted of wine, and her breath was hot and panting as she sucked at his tongue, holding her hands out and clasping his jaw as she pulled him hungrily toward her. It had been a long time since he’d been kissed that way. He could never remember Linda doing it like that, not ever, even in the early stages of their relationship. This girl was something else. She was warm, and energized, alive and wriggling in his grasp. His entire body felt as if it had been set on fire, and the brightest burn was in his pants where he was already pressing himself against her as tightly as he could go, almost knocking her backward onto the bed. She laughed and tore at his shirt, trying to get it off over his head. He helped her with it, flinging it aside, and then she turned him around, maneuvering so that in a flash they had changed positions, and now it was he who was standing with the bed behind him. She pushed down lightly on his shoulders so that he sat on the edge of the bed, with her still standing, between his legs. She squirmed backward, the wine bottle still held in one hand, as she put it to her lips and took several swallows directly from it. “Open your mouth,” she said.
He did. She stepped forward and placed one hand on his shoulder, while with the other she tilted the bottle a couple of inches from his mouth, letting a careless stream fall toward it. He was able to handle most of the liquid, though some of it splashed down his chin to land on the floor, the sheets, and along his chest, rolling quickly down along his abdomen. She set the bottle on the floor and pushed him backward onto the bed, still dressed in his pants and loafers, as she crawled partially on top of him and began to lap at the rivulets of wine on his chest and stomach. He could feel his nipples stiffen as she sucked greedily, getting every drop, and he could feel, too, the powerful suction of her mouth. His hard-on was pushing eagerly against the material of his pants, and he could see that she had noticed it too. Still licking the last few drops from the upper area of his pelvis, she now let her tongue trace his abdominals, stopping to nuzzle at his navel and stab her tongue at it, knife-like, before undoing his belt. He let out a small groan of anticipation, and she smiled at him, a truly evil smile this time, showing all her teeth. He remembered thinking, afterward, that she had revealed to him more with that one smile about herself and her proclivities than anything she had said or done previously. It was the kind of smile that only comes to the face of a person who is doing what they love, what they are passionate about, especially if that activity is clandestine, or risqué, or generally frowned upon.
Tangle Please by Alexander Wickes
I’m a little bit of a nympho, I guess, she had said. There’s nothing wrong with that, had been his answer.
It was the work of a moment for her to slide his pants down, and his briefs. She helped him as he struggled with the loafers, pulling them off and throwing them aside; he wondered briefly if he’d be able to find them again later. Now he was completely naked, and she inclined her head forward to kiss him again as he sat on the edge of the bed, while she remained standing, between his legs. She had reached a hand down and taken hold of his penis, and now she was sliding that hand along it in a loose but practiced motion, kissing him in time to her strokes. It felt amazing. She let go long enough to give him a light shove backward onto the bed. “Scoot back,” she said lustily. Her eyes were locked onto his cock, and he obeyed, as she followed him onto the bed, first stripping off her shirt. Now he had a good firsthand look at her small, perky breasts, the pink buds in stark contrast to her white skin.
She took hold of his cock again and licked its full length, starting at the base and working the underside of the shaft with the tip of her tongue. He leaned back with his arms at his sides, staring up at the spider web of cracks on the ceiling. She bent over, sticking her ass in the air as she licked each one of his balls and sucked them into her mouth, tugging at them very gently while at the same time resuming the relentless stroking of his cock. She certainly seemed to know what she was doing. When she had contented herself that everything was properly lubricated, she took his whole length in her mouth and began to suck him off with fervent energy. He lay back, hardly moving, hardly breathing. This was not the extremely infrequent half-assed blowjob he’d gotten from Linda in the past few years. With her, head had been an unmistakable chore, like sex in general. Here, he felt himself in the hands (and mouth) of a woman who loved to suck cock. He knew she was into it by the noises she made, matching his own, as he gasped appreciatively and held onto a double handful of sheets. She took her time, alternating the degree of suction, at times bringing him close to orgasm, deep throating him, gobbling him all down voraciously, his tip knocking against the back of her throat, but she never gagged once, and whenever he felt that he was about to come, she seemed to know it, spitting him out and going to work on his balls again, while he squirmed and pawed at the sheets. She changed things up, often, between her mouth and her hands, now using one at a time, now both at once, as he felt all of his nerve endings come alive.
“Now I want to ask you something,” she said suddenly, lifting her head up and speaking to him. One of her hands remained on his cock, and she continued sliding it up and down enticingly.
“I’m all ears,” he said.
“I can finish you off right now, if you like, and that can be it for right now. Of course, I don’t have anything else to do tonight, so I was hoping we could make this a full course meal. But that’s entirely up to you. I know what I’m capable of. This is about how much you can handle.” The motion of her hand became more rapid as she spoke, and the pressure of her grip increased. His eyes widened and the breath caught in his throat. She was smiling again, that same slightly cruel grin. “So how ‘bout it? Is this a full course meal tonight, or a snack?”
It really didn’t take him long to think about that. “Full course meal,” he said. Her smile increased, as she lowered her head again. Removing her hands, she resumed sucking at his cock with only her mouth. She was bobbing her head up and down with incredible rapidity, sliding his full length in and out of her. He was no longer able to just lie back. He wanted to thrust, and he took the back of her head in his hands, hesitantly at first, not sure if she would be into it, but he needn’t have worried. His penis in her mouth stifling her moans, she bobbed her head up and down frantically, until he crossed the threshold, the point of no return, and he exploded, dousing her throat with a blast of hot cum. He leaned back against the bed again, momentarily comatose, while she finished him off, swallowing every drop. This was also a unique experience for him. It went without saying that Linda never swallowed, never sucked him off to completion, even. He could only imagine how indignant she would have been if he’d suggested such a thing.
Actually, this was only the second time in his life he could remember a girl having been willing to do it, the first following a drunken evening in college with a friend of a friend from out of town that he’d never seen again. April had unquestionably enjoyed it, but she didn’t seem anywhere close to satisfied.
“No resting,” she said. “Not yet.” She took hold of his hands and pulled him up to a seated position again, and he began to kiss her exposed midsection, her belly button, the outline of her hips, then making his way up to her breasts. He’d wanted to suck on them since she had first removed her shirt the previous evening.
“Here,” she said. She picked up the bottle of wine from the floor and sat down on the bed, then scooted back so she was partially lying down, her torso propped up with one arm. She held the bottle above her stomach and tilted it, allowing some of the wine to spill down. “Lick it off,” she told him.
Returning her smile, he did so, sucking at her navel where it pooled there, then tracking the line of drops. She let another stream go by her collarbone so that it traveled down her chest, and he eagerly put his mouth there to stop it. Laughing, she upended the bottle above each breast, and he slurped at each one eagerly, while she held the back of his head, entwining her fingers in his hair. He’d managed to catch most of the wine, but several drops had fallen onto her sheets. She didn’t seem to care.
“Take my pants off,” was her next order. She slid further back, still holding onto the bottle, which was three quarters of the way empty at this point, and lifted her legs. He slid the pajama bottoms off her thin hips and threw them aside, so that now they were both nude. He stood over her for a moment, getting an eyeful of her shaved pussy. Already he could smell her, a musky scent that made his head swim even more than the effects of the wine. With that smile that showed all her teeth, she tilted the bottle right around her torso, so that the wine dripped down between her legs. Jeff needed no further instruction. He put his tongue to work, getting as much of the liquid as he could. Some of it fell, further staining the sheets. As he busied himself, giving her the full treatment, now kissing and licking at the inside of her thighs, wanting her good and worked up before actually getting to her snatch, she chugged from the bottle, heedless of the liquid that spilled down her chin. The bottle empty, she threw it over the edge of the bed, laughing; he heard it shatter as it struck against something.
What have I gotten myself into? he thought.
He concentrated now on the full range of his oral skills, in which he took great pride. He’d had an unappreciative partner in Linda, but prior to dating her he’d honed his craft on several young women in college, and he’d supplemented that knowledge with hours spent with an extensive porn collection. He slowly went about licking the outer edges of the labia, as April stretched her arms above her head, her eyes open, sometimes reaching a hand down to squeeze at her breasts or pull at her nipples. He licked at her clit, slowly at first, using the flat of his tongue, then flicking the pink bud back and forth, and finally dropping his head down to fully lubricate the vaginal opening. He ran his tongue along the perineum and licked at her asshole, which caused her to moan and jerk her legs. He went back to licking her clit again, while at the same time he inserted his index finger inside her in similar fashion to what he’d seen her do to herself the previous night. First he teased her with the tip, then gradually worked himself further in, keeping up his tongue lashing while he did so. The rhythmic rocking of her pelvis as he went deeper told him how much she was enjoying herself, not to mention the fact that she was now gushing like a tap, her juices flowing down his wrist. How wonderful it was, he thought, to have a partner who so obviously enjoyed the fine points of the sexual act as much as he did!
“Harder,” she demanded. “Fuck me harder!”
He now had two fingers into her, and he was sliding them rapidly in and out, while he shook his head quickly from side to side to cause friction against her clit. She was grinding against his hand, and he knew she wanted to come. “Faster,” she panted. “Come on. I’m close.” He began to slam his fingers into her rapidly, as now she actually reached down and took hold of his wrist and made him fuck her harder. The strength of her grip was astonishing. He could actually see the orgasm building in her, like one long shudder; she was moaning, way back down in her throat, a kind of wailing, keening scream that just kept building in intensity, as he could feel the muscles of her vagina gripping his fingers and forcing them deeper, ever deeper inside of her. Then all at once she released; a flood of warmth erupted around his fingers and tongue, and she let go of her grip, allowing him to slowly retract his fingers. His tongue was exhausted, and moisture had run all the way down his forearm.
She was lying back, as he had done moments before, but as gratifying as it had been to make her come, every bit as satisfying as his own orgasm, he wanted passionately to fuck her now, to feel those powerful muscles gripping his cock. He’d been completely unaware of it, but he had a tremendous erection again. His penis was so stiff that it almost hurt. “Hey,” he said, flicking one of her ankles teasingly. “No resting, remember?”
She sat up, her face flushed, smiling again. “Hold on, lover.” She scooted over to the other side of the bed, leaning far over to reach underneath it, and he admired the shape of her back in the orange light. She resurfaced with a shoebox that was filled most of the way with a wide array of condoms. “Mostly giveaways from Pride,” she said. “They were throwing them to the crowd.” She had spotted his hard-on and eagerly grabbed for it. He grinned, shaking his head slightly. The girl was insatiable. “How about this?” she said, selecting a red one in a clear package.
“Fine by me.” She ripped the wrapping open, placed the unfurled condom at the tip of his penis, and carefully slid it on, making sure it fit tightly, all the way down to the end. Then she reached up and pulled him down onto her, throwing the wrapper off the bed as carelessly as she had the wine bottle. They kissed, her mouth latching onto his, eager as ever, and then he entered her, sliding in easily, as she was already fully lubricated. The first thing he felt was her tightness. Even though he had been working her with his fingers, he had to force his way in a bit. He got about two thirds of the way, then withdrew almost to the tip so he could drive it home again, slowly, making her think about it. The resistance of the constricted space was heavenly. He supposed it had to do with her size, and he didn’t want to hurt her, so he watched to make sure that she wasn’t in any pain as he forced his way in deeper. She didn’t seem to mind, though. On the contrary, she was spreading her legs open as far as they could go, accommodating this welcome invasion. He admired her flexibility; she demonstrated almost balletic skill, one foot touching the wall above the bed as he could hear the tendons in her inner thighs stretching. “Is that okay?” he asked, stroking in and out of her very slowly.
“Mmmm…yes,” she said. “Kiss me.” He bent over her, and they shared a long, passionate lip lock, their tongues wrapped around one another as she brought her legs back in now and wrapped them around the small of his back, causing him to increase his pace slightly. The tight fit made for slow going, and that was okay by him. In the confines of the condom, it was like someone masturbating him with a hot, wet, latex glove, with a very firm grip.
“That’s good,” she said, her voice thick, seeming to come from a place of intense pleasure a million miles away. “Nice and slow. Nice and slow.” He obeyed, knowing that his orgasm, when it came, would be all the more powerful because of having come just moments before. When he was a teenager, or even in his early twenties he could have two or three orgasms almost immediately after one another, but now two in a few hours was his limit. Getting the first one out of the way would normally mean he would be good to go for a while, but she was just so tight. She had a way of gripping him with the vaginal walls that was practically making his knees shake, and every time she tamped down, squeezing him, that smile on her face increased a little bit more. He had propped up his upper body, using his forearms, to get more leverage, and now they were growing tired. All the veins in his arms were standing out, and a fine sweat had broken out on his brow.
She seemed to sense his fatigue. “Lie down next to me,” she said, and he did, gratefully, sliding onto the bed behind her and draping one arm across her midsection. She lifted one leg to allow him easier access, and used her hand to guide him into her. From this position he could give his arms a rest, as he concentrated on thrusting in and out of her, lying on his side with one leg slightly raised. With his one arm draped over her he could touch her breasts, and he pulled at her nipples in the way that she seemed to like. He found it a little surprising that she liked him to be so rough with them, but obviously she did, as her panting increased and became more labored. He reached his hand down to stimulate her clit as he plugged her hole with ever increasing speed. He was coming to the point when he wanted more than anything else to come again, and he would have done just about anything to do so. Whenever he got into one of these moods, it was almost like something else had taken control of his body. She had spoken before of needing sex, and now more and more rapidly he was feeling that he needed to come. The problem was, he didn’t have the necessary leverage to grind against her the way that he wanted to. She was thrusting her ass against his cock in a way that was driving him wild, but he wasn’t able to brace himself against something so that he could finally come.
Again, she seemed to have an intuition of what he wanted. She grabbed hold of his hip, forcing him to slow. “Let me ride you,” she said, and he didn’t think he’d ever heard anything as sexy in his life.
He slipped out of her, and like lightning she’d clambered on top of him and slipped him inside again. “Just lie back,” she said, “and let me do all the work.” He did, and she began to work his cock with her pussy, sliding herself up and down his shaft. From this position he had a great view of her entire body, her breasts with the stiff, swollen nips, the patch of their comingled sweat all along her torso and arms, her hair sticking up at all angles, in places bright red and in others faded to orange not a far shade from the light in the room itself. She leaned back, putting her arms out behind her and resting them on the outer part of his thighs for balance as she pulled at his erection with the amazingly powerful contractions. He had never felt anything like it. He gasped and cried out, knowing that he must be making absurd expressions, but not really caring.
“Do you like that?” she cried, though he thought she must already know the answer very well.
“Oh fuck,” was all he could manage to say. “Oh fuck.” She let go of his thighs and now bent over him, her upper body grazing against his ass she went into what he felt had to be the home stretch.
“I’m going to make you come,” she said, and he felt that she had the power to do that, had had the power to do it whenever she felt like it. He felt that she had been almost toying with him this whole time, gauging his sexual prowess and then adjusting her repertoire, her game plan accordingly to match it. She was bucking now, truly riding him, but he no longer felt that he could lie back and “let her do all the work,” as she’d said.
He’d begun to move his hips in time with hers again, and he’d spread his own legs open slightly, so that he could really bury himself in her as far as he could go. He had one hand on her lower back and one hand between her shoulder blades, and he was thrusting upward with as much force as he could muster. The bed was shaking, sliding along the floor, and he could hear a metallic grating noise that could only have been the bottom of the box spring colliding with the wall. She had begun to make noises again, indicating that she was close too, but, God, he wanted to come so bad, and yes, her pleasure was important to him, but that’s what he was fixated on now, with grim concentration, the fact that he had to come, needed to come, would completely lose his mind if he didn’t. They were both giving it all they had. He interlocked his hands at the small of her back and thrust upward, almost coming off the bed as he drove every inch of himself home. She screamed and arched her back, bending herself up so that he could no longer even see her face, only her neck, sweating, straining, every tendon taut under the skin. He came. He thought that she did too, but he didn’t know, and truth be told, at just that moment, he didn’t care. He thought he could deserve to be selfish. He thought he’d given a good account of himself; hell, he thought he’d rocked her fucking world. But as she lifted herself off of him and lay down beside him, tracing a fingernail along his chest, he wondered, before the inevitable conversation that was now coming, if, for this girl, his performance had been average, merely adequate. He wondered, for just a moment, if this had been a night spent with a sexual equal, or whether, to her, he’d seemed more like a novice, a rank amateur.
~
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Copyright November 2011, Steven Finkelstein. Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.