This will be our last story we do hope you have enjoyed the sexy stories we’ve brought you over the years.
Thank you — Jennifer Case
Sixty-Four — Donnie Magazino
John needed a cigarette. And he needed a break from the madness: the screaming fourteen year-olds, the flood of expectations, the head-spinning pace of a strange new life. He found an empty hallway, dug out a smoke, and inhaled the soul-stilling quiet of his new hiding place.
But he soon had company.
“Your manager know you’re smoking, boy?”
She was slender, black, beautiful. With full lips and giant eyes that never stopped searching. No sequined evening gown tonight, no prom-ready beehive stacked to the ceiling, but he instantly knew the face. And the voice. Everybody knew the voice.
“Diana!”
They’d met on tour in Houston, then crossed paths again in New York. Now in the Motor City, her home turf, she unwrapped a smile for him and laced those boney arms around his chest. Something about him – maybe the accent, maybe the glasses, maybe the cheeky demeanor –turned her into a screeching fourteen year-old herself.
“Hello, John! Taking a break from being a heartthrob?”
“I’m trying. ‘ere! Give us a nickel, love.”
“A nickel?”
“Yes, one of those round things with that Jefferson bloke on it.”
She reached into her pocket, surrendered the nickel just as he grabbed her wrist and led her down the hallway…
They got to a photo booth, ducked inside just as a pair of adolescent feet clicked up behind them. She wedged herself around his arms, onto his lap. They giggled as the feet clicked past them, suspecting nothing. But the giggles stopped and their eyes, now accustomed to the dark, darted into each other uncomfortably.
“Give us a song then,” John urged.
“Aren’t we gonna’ take a picture?” she asked.
“I’d rather hear ‘Baby Love.’
She blushed, but soon surrendered.
Baby love, my baby love.
I need you, oh how I need you…
Then came another meeting of eyes, noses crashing into an accidental dance, mahogany skin on white. His fingers tracing the outline of that smile as it stretched for the borders of her thin face. Then a kiss, lips locked into dangerous motion, sucking, savoring, then snapping apart.
More footsteps outside, not that they’d notice. Not that anything, anywhere could pry apart those heated bodies, that photo booth becoming a cramped back row of a theater balcony. They poured themselves onto each other like kids. They were kids really, thrust into dizzying grown-up lives. But they had found an escape in this grinding of bodies, this twisting of souls. They had twined and roped and knotted themselves into something miles away from the chaos.
But the scream brought them back.
They hadn’t noticed that someone had yanked up the curtain. A crowd had gathered and gawked in disbelief. And now their ears were under assault from a chorus of gleeful shrieks. And it was time to race away and apart. Their plans would have to wait.
***
And they wound up waiting three years. Three long years before a chance meeting in a San Francisco coffee shop. Their eyes locked across a room full of groovy, past the wall of weed smoke and paisley. That playful grope in the dark of that photo booth seemed at least seven hairstyles ago. They were no longer kids. But if the years had made them strangers again, they hadn’t chased away the longing. Strangers or not, they ached to rediscover each other, one misguided kiss at a time.
John was holding court, surrounded by a peace-in or a freak-out or maybe it was just a bad acid trip in Technicolor. He excused himself and weaved through the bodies, beckoning her with his eyes. The beard was new. The clothes were a million times funkier than anything he would have dared sport in sixty-four. But it was him all right, same John. He was still the unclaimed trophy she wanted on her mantle. Still the only reason to she’d find herself in the middle of this hip happening fashion nightmare.
Diana approached him, chiseled past the bullshit. No chit-chat, no greeting:
“I need you, John.”
“You feeling okay, love? You look knackered.”
“Let’s go somewhere to talk.”
They found a tiny corner upstairs and disappeared in it. Diana spilled it out in an angry, reckless ride of a paragraph.
“It’s too much, John, too much pressure, too many questions, too many fans, not enough sleep. Flo is gone and Mary hates me. Everything’s moving too quickly, too crazy – even the good parts. What happened to everything? What happened to us?”
No words from John, not that any would help. Nothing to do but plant that weary head on his shoulder and let everything flush itself out of her suddenly frantic life. Her hand wandered to his chest and their eyes stopped avoided each other.
“Is there a place we can go?” she asked.
“I’ll find one.”
It was a damp musty spare room that nobody seemed to bother with. It was perfect.
They slipped into each other’s limbs as if it had been only days since their embrace in the photo booth. They linked elbows, fingers, legs, teeth. She grabbed his face and bit into it, knocking his glasses to the floor and slapping away any trace of uncertainty. She wanted this.
They sprang out of their clothes and onto the bed, crashing together with a slap and setting the mattress’s harmony of creaks into motion. She angled herself over him, thighs pinning his waist into compliance. She was the boss, the ruler, the queen. And he liked it.
She leaned into him, lips creeping closer but not quite there.
“You know what I want, John?”
His lips curled into a schoolboy’s grin.
“What do you want, Diana?”
She arched her knees upward, eased herself forward, opened the doors.
“I want you to take me away. To someplace else, baby. Anyplace else.”
Her hands swept to his shoulders, dragged him to the place she needed his lips to be.
And he dove right in, tongue lapping, teeth squeezing. He pulled with his lips and teased with the tip of his finger. His touch was just right, just gentle enough to shove her into a bone-shaking rattle. Then he got bossy.
He flipped the queen over and yanked up her legs, knees to her chest, mashing against her tiny tits. He took a dive inside her and stirred the juices into a tempest. She pushed her hips upward, meeting those hungry moans and muffling them. She croaked and cringed through a series of waves that lifted her up and left her floating.
“Oh, John… I can feel it! Right there, I can feel it!”
Then the voice was back, soaring, sailing above everything, even the madness that prompted that meeting of mouth to pussy. She reached deep into her chest to find a growl that leapt way beyond the pussycat’s purr the world had come to love. She was yelping now, barking. With her claws digging into his shoulders and her scrawny legs kicking into a spastic dance, this was way too much perfection, an overdose of sunshine.
But he was just getting started, nibbling, tickling, tugging. He was jabbing away at the demon inside her, setting him free. She stretched into an acrobat’s arc, then turned to rubber, exploding into somebody new.
With her spine twisted and her eyes seeking release from their sockets, her hair spilling everywhere at once, she needed nothing now but a body to guide her back to earth. She squeezed his shoulders and exhaled for the first time in hours.
“John, John, John. You just don’t know, baby. Don’t know how badly I needed that.”
But he heard nothing. The day had drained him of everything and so he now drifted into the slumber of an infant. No sense waking him, she thought. There was nothing left to say anyway. She put on her clothes and tiptoed out of his world for another decade.
***
When they met again, they’d find each other in livelier spirits. The seventies had lurched to a close and the decade just ahead danced with promise and vigor. Their lives intersected at a Manhattan shindig peopled by the usual cast of hangers-on, flatterers, status-seekers and flamboyant bores. They slipped away from the ass-kissing and coke-fueled small talk and, in their usual manner, found a quiet corner to trade indecorous ideas.
“What are you doing here, John?”
“I live here, as far as I can recall. I love this place, this mad city and its beautiful noise pollution. I just wish I could get away sometimes, you know? Just wish I could take a weekend off from being the Walrus.”
“I dig,” she answered.
“But what’s your excuse, love? What brings you to this lovely island of upscale depravity?”
“Business. Got a new album coming out so I guess it’s time to paste on the smile and turn on the charm,” Diana said, demonstrating the smile.
“Very authentic.”
Then came an hour of updates, gossip and crazy plans for the future. The news had been glorious, tragic, bizarre and mundane. They’d grown up and grown into the madness of their frantically public lives.
“Things are cool. Getting better. It’d be nice if I could turn the spotlight off every once in a while. But it is what it is, baby. It’s the life we all want,” she said.
John’s gaze landed on her eyes and stayed there. A tense moment chased them into silence. But they didn’t fight it. It was a moment too sweet to run from.
“There’s um… a room in back if you’d like to – ” he started.
“I’d love to,” she finished.
There was no hurry this time. They had the rest of their lives to savor each other’s taste. They had forever to kiss, nuzzle, nibble all those places that sat neglected for too many years.
John’s mouth motored into overdrive within seconds of finding that spot again, that aching, empty island he seemingly discovered a decade earlier.
“There we are,” Diana announced. “That’s the place.”
And he stayed, chewing her into submission, sending her head back, her shoulders into a round of quivers and her belly to the sky. It was almost ugly, this demon she was twisting into, this gargoyle that was taking command. But he didn’t let the contortions frighten him away.
Instead he pushed inside her, with fingers, teeth, lips, tongue slipping inside and supplying loving shoves. The tigress soon roared for more:
“Inside me, baby. Fill me up!”
And it was time to feed his own hungry demons.
Already hard and aching for release, he needed only to be aimed the right way. He prodded inside, a bit clumsy, but the spot had been hit. He was inside and soaking in her sweetness. She wrapped her legs, arms and somehow her smile around his pounding torso. Their voices rose in tandem, a frenzied duet; their limbs locked. They danced to a phantom beat.
The Goddess issued a final command before they climbed higher.
“Harder, John. More!”
He inched inside harder, stronger. He emptied himself, back arching, neck stretching, eyelids undecided – slammed shut, then popped open. He collapsed into her waiting arms, nothing left to give. They bathed together in this painfully sweet light. They celebrated this moment, this blissful union safely away from the world’s prying eyes. They stayed there and lay still without a worry to yank them back to the gold-plated chaos of their lives. They made the moment feel like forever.
But it still somehow felt unfinished, a song without a second verse. A chance to write one was gone within months, wiped away by a madman’s angry bullet.
And he would be gone forever, with nothing to remember him by but memories that seemed borrowed from another couple’s life. They were strangers really, with nothing between them to call their own. Not even a picture. Maybe she should have taken one in that photo booth.
_____________________
Donnie Magazino is the pen name of crime fiction writer Copper Smith, which the is pen name of screenwriter David Copper. He gets dizzy just thinking about who he actually is. But he’s pretty sure he lives in Minneapolis and plays the mandolin.
He’s currently writing a serialized novel of lurid pulp called Kitten in the Crosshairs. To read more from Donnie go here: http://www.jukepopserials.com/home/read/26.
Girl Unit — Tia Zen Sin
I had a good idea that he was cheating on me when I went down on him one night and his dick smelled like cinnamon. It was just confusing to me at first, and I went ahead and blew him, but it didn’t take me long to figure out that he was getting head from some other bitch who liked to chew gum. I was pissed off, believe me, but I knew I needed more evidence before busting his ass.
There were three things that really insulted me about the whole “cinnamon dick” thing. First, if he let some other girl suck his dick and then offered the same dick to me without washing it first, his actions go beyond any level of disrespect and bad hygiene that I’ve ever heard. I mean, how gross is that?
Second, how stupid does he think I am that I wouldn’t notice? I mean, what if I called him on it right then? What could he have said? “No, baby, that’s my natural pheromone smell.” Yeah, right.
And third, how stupid is he that he thought he could get away with sneaking around on someone who works for a security company? The very next day I was at the office, loading up on hidden camera gear to set up in his bedroom. He wasn’t getting away with this shit. I’m not some psycho, but if a guy leads you on by telling you that he wants a deep, meaningful relationship while he’s still out whoring, then he’s setting himself up for all kinds of trouble.
Naturally, the whole thing was a blow to my female ego as well. I’m a good-looking woman, I take care of myself, and I like to fuck. What more could he want? Whatever it was, I was going to find out.
Planting the camera in his bedroom was easy. I tucked a pin-size device over his closet, aimed at his bed, and then retrieved it few days later to see what it had recorded. A whole lot of nothing, mostly, but when the action arrived, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
I sat in my office at work watching the whole thing on my computer. On the second afternoon, Nathan, my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, walked into the room, leading this hot little thing by the hand. Nathan’s a big guy, over six feet, and he’s a professional trainer, so he’s got an excellent build without being overly-pumped up. But because he’s so big, this girl he brought in looked extra-dainty.
She had an Asian look to her face and a tight little body, displayed by a clinging blue dress that barely covered her rear. It didn’t cover her rear for long anyway, because as soon as they were in the room Nathan had his hands on her, kissing her on the mouth and running his hands up her legs the pull the dress up and expose that little slut’s ass.
They made out for a while until she dropped to her knees and pulled his cock out of his pants and started sucking on him. Then, when he had a good hard on, he pulled her to her feet, peeled her dress off over her head, and sat her down on the edge of the bed, before sliding her little slut panties off. And that’s when my eyes started popping out of my head…
The resolution on the camera was pretty good, but I thought there must be some blurriness or something, because it looked like the girl had a cock. Not a huge cock, but a little cock for sure. When Nathan got on his hands and knees in front of her and started bobbing, there was no doubt what she had to offer that I didn’t.
My stomach turned, but I found my thighs clenching together as I watched him suck her cock, lick her balls, and then turn her over on her hands and knees so he could lick her ass. This was all prep for the big moment however, when he put his hands on her waist, got into his position, and mounted her from behind, giving several short thrusts as he entered.
The cock that had been in my mouth had also been up this boy-girl’s ass.
I watched them fuck like that, carrying on until the crucial moment when he pulled out, and the little slut hopped down in front of him to catch his load in her mouth. Then, after he was finished, she lay back on the bed so he could finish her off with his own mouth.
I shut off the video. I was blown away. And I was finished with Nathan, that was for sure. I was in over my head with this guy. But I wasn’t going to just walk away, oh no.
Through my job I had plenty of connections with investigators, and I called in a favor and got a tail set on the girl. The boy? Girl-boy? Did she count as a ladyboy, or a tranny, or what? I didn’t want to get into labels.
I got this guy Ted to stake out Nathan’s place for a while. That type of work wasn’t cheap, but I’d sent a lot of business Ted’s way, so he gave me a rate. Plus, I asked him sexy-nice, which is always a good way to get a discount.
Since Nathan is such a goddamn horndog, he showed up with his new fuck-toy on the first day Ted was there outside his building. Nathan arrived with her in his car and took her upstairs. Ted waited outside until they were finished, and when they left again, he followed them to a restaurant, where she got into her own car. Ted followed her from there, and trailed her to a high-end condo building downtown.
“I ran the plates on her car,” Ted told me, “and they’re registered to some guy who lives in the building. I’ve got the address here for you, and a picture of the guy.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, and I gave him a tight hug. He sniffed my hair a little. That was okay. Things like that make people feel better about taking a huge cut off their regular rate.
I waited until the next day, and then dressed up sexier than hell, in a tight white blouse that showed off my rack, and a black skirt. My hair and makeup were perfect. She might have been a cute little thing, but I wanted to look like a full-on knockout when I confronted her.
I went up to the condo building and staked out the unit. I waited until the old dude left, waited another ten minutes, and then went up and knocked on the door.
She opened it and looked blankly at me. She had no idea who I was. It was nine-thirty in the morning, and she was dressed like she was ready to go to work at a strip club. She had on a pink tube dress that hugged every curve on her ultra-feminine body. Her boobs, no doubt created by implants and hormone therapy, pressed out the top, and her lips looked made for blowjobs. She may have had a cock hidden inside that dress, but she was the kind of sexy that could make men bash each other’s brains out.
I wasn’t going to let her intimidate me with her hottness. I smiled warmly. “Hi,” I said. “I’m Charlotte.”
She looked at me blankly. “Okay,” she said.
“You don’t know me,” I continued, “but I think you know Nathan. You know, that guy whose mouth you shoot your little load of boy-cum into? I’m the girl he kisses at night.”
She smirked. “Then I guess you’ve been tasting my cum too,” she said, and she started to close the door.
I moved fast to push it open and slip inside, slamming it shut behind me.
“What are you doing?” she snapped. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Nice place,” I said, looking around the spacious, bright condo. “I guess you must be fucking a pretty well-off guy to stay here. And he lets you drive his car too, doesn’t he?”
“Get the fuck out, or I’ll call the cops.”
I smiled. “Call the cops, and I’ll show your sugar-daddy some video of you screwing my boyfriend.”
“You fucking bitch!” she said and she grabbed for me, reaching out to pull my hair. I got an arm straight out and grabbed her by the front of her dress, pulling hard on it. It tore down, letting her firm little boobies spring forth, her nipples pointing out like brown little bullets. She was wearing heels, and her eyes went wide as she lost her balance. She reached out and latched onto my blouse as she went down, and we fell together in a squirming wrestling heap.
I was bigger, and I managed to get on top and pin her down, my breasts resting on hers. She snarled and stared up at me, at my mercy as I held her wrists. She tried to push up with her hips to shake me off, and that’s when I felt the hard cock between her legs.
I answered her snarl with a grin, and I pressed my crotch down on her, feeling her hardness straining against me. I ground against her, rubbing that cock against my pussy lips through our clothes. The snarl stayed on her face, but her eyes clamped shut and she arched her back, grinding in response to my motions.
The bitch was ready for it, and to my surprise, so was I. I didn’t have any specific plan for what I would do when I was alone with her, but suddenly I knew that this was inevitable. I released one wrist and reached down between us, pulling up her dress and my skirt, and flicked aside her silky panties to release her girl-cock. I pulled my own panties to the side, and with her eyes still closed, she moved her hips to guide the head to my slick opening.
Her cock wasn’t big. It might not have been the smallest I’d taken, but it was definitely not a monster. I was used to getting fucked every night by Nathan’s big unit, and I was able to take her quickly inside. I started bucking up and down on her girl-cock with my pussy, and we were full-on fucking. I wasn’t even sure if she was doing it against her will until she reached up ripped open the front of my blouse, letting my breasts spill out on top of hers. She grabbed them with both hands and held on as I rode her, sliding her in and out of me until I felt the tingle begin.
The orgasm started in my pussy then spread out in waves as I fucked, bouncing my ass up and down on her, taking her hard cock as I shuddered and gasped. I opened my eyes long enough to see her biting her ruby red bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as she came as well, her little cock jumping as she unleashed her lady load into my spasming pussy.
I collapsed on top of her as my climax subsided, and we lay together, panting in a mess of hair, makeup, juices and torn clothing.
After we cleaned up, she told me her name was Samantha, and if it meant so much she would stop seeing Nathan. I told her it didn’t matter now, because I was through with him.
“Take my number then,” she said with a slightly vicious, slightly teasing smile. “In case you get lonely.” Then she gave me a piece of cinnamon gum and a kiss on the lips, and sent me happily on my way.
___________________
Tia Zen Sin is an erotica writer, and everything else you’ve heard is a damn dirty lie. Find out more about her work at tiazensin.blogspot.com, and on twitter @tiazensin.
Dares and Thrills — A. J. Phoenix
Trey shouted at the top of his lungs. “This is fucking awesome!” The wind whipped against his face as the houses along the dark street zoomed past them and the powerful, seductive purr of tires on asphalt reverberated within him. Tonight, he was alive.
“Hold on tight,” Denzel said. His friend was sitting in front of him driving the motorcycle. Trey wrapped his arms around the man, pressed himself closer to him. Denzel was warm, even as the cold air cut into Trey’s cheek, blowing the other man’s rich masculine scent his way.
He wanted to wrap himself around the man since the first time he’d laid eyes on him. He’d desired Denzel and his lean body, his perfect abs, and his devious smile that went so well with the twinkle in his dark eyes. If it weren’t for Henry waiting for him at home…
“Go faster!” Trey shouted, hoping the thrill of the speed would chase those thoughts away. It’s the alcohol, he told himself.
The engine roared again as Denzel complied. Buildings, street lights,and neon signs flashed by them. Denzel gave every speed limit sign a big fat Fuck You, and Trey was loving it, feeling the adrenaline level rise higher, higher, until it was almost too much. It was moments like these that he lived for.
He was drunk on excitement when their ride came to an end. Denzel stopped the machine in front of an old apartment complex. “You can let go now,” he said.
Trey laughed. “What if I don’t want to?”
Denzel took off his helmet, shook out his medium length hair. “Stop teasing.” His voice had something sharp to it that made Trey let go and step off the bike.
“What’ll you do if I don’t?” he said, letting his hand run over the smooth blue metal of the motorcycle. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this, provoking the other man, when he knew he shouldn’t. Henry said it would be the death of him someday, always going further than he should, seeking the next rush.
Denzel got off the bike and locked eyes with him. Trey’s cock stirred in his pants under the intensity of the other man’s gaze. He swallowed and took his helmet off, put it aside, breaking eye-contact.
“Want to know what I’ll do?” Denzel said, voice low. “Why don’t you come in with me and find out?”
Trey looked at the apartment complex, noticing for the first time that he didn’t know where their ride had taken them. He was going to call this off, when the other man opened his mouth again.
“I dare you.”
Those words were his undoing. Defiantly, he glared back at Denzel. He backed up against the bike when the other man closed in on him. “I’m betting you,” Denzel said, eyes boring into him, “if you let me start, you won’t make me stop.”
Trey held his gaze. “I’ll take that bet.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth that Denzel grabbed his hand and dragged him into the house.
The apartment door closed, and Denzel pinned Trey against it with his hips. Trey inhaled sharply as the other man pressed into him, instantly speeding up his heart rate. “You can’t wait, huh?” he said, trying to be nonchalant.
Denzel leaned in to his ear, the tiny stubble on his cheek rubbed against the side of Trey’s face. “You can’t tell me you don’t want this as much as I do.” His voice came low, a deep rumble that resonated in Trey’s chest as teeth grazed his earlobe. Predator.
“I can’t?”
“No.” Denzel grabbed both of his hands, held them up over his head and finally claimed Trey’s mouth with his own, running his tongue across his lips. Feeling defiant, Trey kept his mouth closed, despite the strong urge to open up. He wanted to free his hands, but the other man held him in place easily, and when he brushed against his body trying to get free,it only made him hornier. Thoughts invaded his mind, of being held, fucked, dominated, used by that man. He recoiled at the images even as his cock strained against his pants.
He’d never known himself to be into that.
And yet, the strong hands on his wrists, Denzel’s firm body locking him in place, sent a strange sense of thrill coursing through him. He was a sucker for thrills. Involuntarily, he moaned and Denzel dipped his tongue inside. Trey’s eyes fluttered closed as the world became smaller around him, reduced to the sensation of the other man’s tongue against his. He shouldn’t be doing it, but it was so fucking good and his reservations slipped away.
Denzel broke the kiss far too soon. “You want this,” he repeated, his mouth so close to his ear that Trey almost believed it was his own mind telling him to let go, hand himself over to the other man. Trey kept his eyes closed, his mind was in overdrive. Denzel grabbed Trey’s hands in one of his, and used his free one to trace two fingers over Trey’s cheek to his jaw, before gripping it firmly. “Look at me,” he said sharply.
Trey complied, while he stared into Denzel’s dark eyes, the other man kissed him again. Trey opened his mouth immediately, hungrily. The way Denzel’s tongue lapped and teased his, pushing into his mouth and taking complete control, robbed him of every conscious thought. He forgot himself, lost, wanting, and needing more. Denzel pulled back suddenly, and Trey almost whined at the loss.
“You want me.”
Oh God Yes.
Denzel’s gaze was intense, lighting a fire inside of Trey. Desire shone in the other man’s eyes as they ran all over his body, finally locking with his. Denzel ran a thumb over Trey’s bottom lip, never breaking eye contact. “Say it.”
Trey knew if he did, Denzel would take him, own him for the night – and in the morning they would never talk of it again. His lips parted. “Fuck me.”
Denzel wasted no time in taking him up on the offer. Their bodies pressed close together. Trey’s mouth opened in silent gasps as Denzel’s thighs rubbed against the growing bulge in his pants. Denzel’s rough lips closed over his, shutting him up. A hand pulled up his shirt, raking fingers over his skin, touching, and twisting his nipples sharply. Trey almost bit down on the other man’s tongue as shivers chased down his spine. He needed more action, more friction…he needed more.
As if hearing his thoughts, Denzel let his large hand wander down to the bulge in Trey’s pants and groped his erection through the tightened fabric. Trey bucked his hips, unable to stop himself, not wanting to stop himself. The other man’s hardness pressing against his leg only heightened his excitement. It had been far too long since he’d last gotten laid.
Denzel looked down into his eyes. “Ready for some cock?”
Trey took a deep breath, desire washing through him. Denzel smelled of oil and male sweat and he found the mix intoxicating. “More than ready.”
Denzel made him turn around, pressing his face against the door. An image of his boyfriend crossed Trey’s mind, but then he thought of all he’d given up for the man, and all the big fat nothing he got in return, and he spread his legs. Denzel unbuckled Trey’s belt and pulled down his pants just far enough for two strong hands to grasp his naked butt cheeks. “Lookin’ good,” Denzel whispered, before biting down on Trey’s neck. Trey gasped, balled his hands into fists at the sudden pulse of need. His cock was fully erect and straining against the rough wood of the door. Denzel grabbed it, pumped once, twice and kissed the spot that he’d bitten. A shuddered breath left Trey and Denzel let go of his cock.
Trey couldn’t morn the loss before something prodded against his anus, pushed inside and spread him open. He moaned, letting his forehead fall against the door. Denzel had started with two fingers and it burned, but it burned so good.
“Didn’t know you could be such a slut,” Denzel said.
“Shut up.”
Denzel grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. “Mhm…” His murmur was a hot stream of air down Trey’s neck. “Think you can tell me what to do?” Denzel yanked on his hair, scissored the fingers inside of him and a sharp sensation shot through Trey, made his cock twitch. A third finger entered him and Trey moved against Denzel, away from him, caught between pain and pleasure and craving both. He had never felt anything like this before.
The fingers left him and then Denzel let go of his hair, too. Trey took a deep breath and supported himself against the door with his arms. The sound of a zipper let him know what was to come. He braced himself, but nothing could have prepared him for the moment Denzel thrust his thick hot cock into him. A strangled moan fell from his lips at the powerful sparks of pleasure that ripped through his body as Denzel buried himself deep inside of him.
The other man started to move before Trey could get too comfortable, hips slamming against his ass with smacking sounds that almost drowned out both their grunts and moans. Almost.
“Harder,” Trey demanded. His fingernails scratched against the wood, searching in vain for something to hold onto as his body trembled with the mind-wrecking new sensations. Denzel’s fingers dug into his hips, held him close as his hard cock pounded into him relentlessly. His breathing was loud and heavy in his ears.
Trey rested his head on one arm, led his free hand to his own throbbing cock – only to have it slapped away by Denzel.
“You come when I make you.” The voice was a low growl – and the words almost enough to make him come right there.
“Then make me.”
Denzel’s hand squeezed around his cock, gave him a long, hard stroke.
“More.” Trey panted, growing closer. He was at the point of no return when the other man complied, stroking him, kept fucking him – and finally made him tumble over the edge. He came hard, almost screaming, as the other man’s cum sprayed warmly against his insides.
Denzel held his shuddering body, milked him dry, and then whispered this into his ear: “You lost the bet. That should give you something to think about.” With that he let go.
Trey kept standing against the door, trying to find himself again in the buzzing mess of his mind. As the rush ebbed away and he stood with traces of cum running down his still naked ass cheeks, he thought that he had never felt so dirty in his life.
More troubling than that, though, was the certainty that he’d do it again.
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If you would like to hear more about this couple and be informed about other hot stories by A. J. Phoenix, find her on Twitter @chaoskaze.
Choke Me — Evelyn Moore
“Pretend you have a knife,” she said.
The first time I met Emery I didn’t know what to expect. She was different. Not in a bad way, but she turned heads. She wore her black hair shoulder length and parted it on the left, while the right side of her skull was shaved close to her scalp. Piercings covered her face, from the bull ring in her nose, to the double paired studs in her bottom lip, and the amount of ink on her arms rivaled that of full length novels. But what was most peculiar about Emery was not her rough edged exterior, or crystal-blue eyes. What was different about Emery, was that the girl loved to scream. Loved to be hurt.
“Now cut me.”
There was something about the euphoric escape of tension from her lungs, and when she’d belt it out there in the middle of the woods, it was like a banshee wailing for her lost child. Her screams sounded like freshly shattered glass and the way she dug her nails into the ground reminded me of someone buried alive in a coffin, scratching at the wood to get out. Except in Emery’s case, she just wanted to go deeper.
“Harder, Nathan. Harder.”
I’d never fucked a girl like Emery before. Something about the sense of imminent death turned her on. Most girls I’d been with wanted it soft and easy, a little change up here or there, but always ending in the missionary position. But not her. She wanted it rough and she wanted it to hurt. Hell, the girl could only cum when my hands were wrapped around her throat. She’d even get this wicked grin on her face when I pushed my thumbs into the soft spot right above her clavicle and make her choke. I’ve heard there’s something about getting off during asphyxiation but I never believed it until I watched those arctic eyes widen and roll back as she came to me. It was like a waterfall gushed out of her, and I didn’t hesitate to drink her up.
“My turn.”
She yanked me out of the car that night, and pulled me into the cemetery across the street. Already half naked, her porcelain skin glowed in the moonlight, while her tits bounced like two flesh balloons. I remember pulling her back, telling her that we’d get caught, and she laughed like a woman possessed as she pulled out a ring of keys from her back pocket. She dangled them in front of me, swinging them like a hypnotist ready to seduce.
“Not if your father owns the graveyard.”
Pinned against a headstone she bit at my ears, my lips, my neck. I ran my hands up her back, grabbing her hair as I traced the outline of her lips with my tongue. She tasted like cigarettes and cherry lip gloss. I wanted more of her, but I knew better than to ask. Emery wasn’t the type of girl that liked being told what to do. I knew I’d get her when she was ready, and not a second before. She sat in my lap and moved one of her hands down my pants.
“Tell me I’m yours.”
I swallowed hard as I looked into her piercing blues. I closed my eyes and focused on her hand on my dick. She was cold, her touch like one of heaven’s fallen angels with clipped wings, a broken halo, and eyes that looked like hell’s frozen fires. I smiled when I said, “You’re mine,” knowing that wasn’t what she wanted. Emery liked games, as long as she was in charge, and when her hands came at my neck, I knew it was time to play.
“Say it right.”
With her hands at my throat, I grabbed at her waist and cupped her ass. She moaned and lightened her grasp as I lifted up her skirt and slid down her lace thong. I dipped two fingers into her wet, velvet center and felt her melt in my hand. Her hands slid down my neck and rested on my chest as she scrunched up my shirt with her fists and screamed that glass breaking pitch I loved so much. I felt myself grow harder as I scraped at the length of my zipper. With my free hand, I unzipped my jeans, and did my best to slide them down. I told Emery to sit, and she opened herself up like a flower as I moved inside her.
“Say it, Nathan.”
I grabbed her neck as I pushed inside of her. Easy at first, but then with the strength and hurt that I knew she liked. I listened to her gasp and when her breath caught in her throat, I pushed even harder. Her eyes went from a pale to a stabbing blue as a mix of pleasure and pain washed over her face. I loved the way the light of the stars bounced off her piercings like a white beam against the gloss of the headstone. She reminded me of a disco ball with the way her face lit up but when she opened her mouth to scream, I slapped my hand over her mouth before she could utter even the smallest of sounds. Two could play at this game.
“No. You say it,” I said.
She grabbed at my hands, and I loosened one of them so I could hear her. She sucked in bouts of air and tried to talk, but with my other hand now rubbing her clit as I stroked her inside and out, all that came out were sighs and muffled whispers lost in the night air. “I said say it,” as I slapped at her cunt and rubbed it till she screamed out. “Say it so I can hear it.”
“Ah, Nathan,” she said.
I picked her up and threw her on the ground, drilling her till her screams woke the crows and shook the bodies in the graves. Out in the woods, with no one for miles away, her voice reverberated off the trees and stones, bouncing back and forth in echoes that could have woken the dead
“I’m yours,” she said.
I felt her come in hot waves as I let go and rode the tide with her. She shook as she finished, her nails grabbing at my skin like black tipped fish hooks in my back. I cringed from the pain, but the hurt felt good as I came inside her, my seed mixing with the sweetest nectar in the forest. I pulled out to adjust myself, and looked at my pierced goddess sprawled out on the graveyard floor.
Poor Mr. Haverson’s headstone was tilted to the side and resting at an odd angle. But the man couldn’t complain too much. Dead or not, the man had one hell of a view.
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Read other stories by this author here.
Evelyn Moore is a dark, erotica writer who likes to heat things up with whips and chains. Her work has been showcased in various magazines such as Every Night Erotica, Clean Sheets Magazine, and Oysters and Chocolate. She is currently working on an erotic vampire novella, and thinks that all girls look best when dressed in black and ready to kill. For more from Evelyn visit here: http://joinmeinthemadhouse.blogspot.com/.
ENE — Good Night
Every Night Erotica will be wrapping up over the next few days as we are just not getting the quality submissions that we need in order to continue to publish daily stories. I’m sorry this has happened but without these submissions ENE inevitably can’t go on.
Two and half years of submissions is excellent in my opinion and ENE had a good run. For the record I’m happy with the experience of running the site and would like to thank you, as a reader or an author, for your support over the last few years. We wish all our talented authors much success in the future and hope that all our readers will enjoy going back to read some of the great sexy stories we’ve brought you over the years.
Thank you and Good Night — Jennifer Case, ENE Editor
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Every Night Erotica shut down by an authors DMCA take down notice.
Every Night Erotica has been shut down by an authors (Yasmine Jones) DMCA take down notice for the last three days.
Both stories have been removed from our archives