Analternative (3-Pack Bundle) (6 page)

His balls emptied themselves. He shot onto me four times. And he groaned loudly in pleasure.

The flow from his tip slowed to a dribble, and he took the last bit of cum on his finger and nonchalantly held it out in front of my lips; an offering. I hummed before taking his finger into my mouth and sucking his seed clean off it.

“Wow,” he said with nothing but appreciation in his eyes. “You are amazing.”

“We’re not done yet,” I said to him, and to my relief his fired weapon showed no signs of relenting. It did not soften one iota. Instead, it stood hard and rigid, as if
it
would have been disappointed if it didn’t get to go again.

I got to my feet, and my knees trembled. I felt wobbly; my heart pounded. My lust was boiling inside of me. I could feel my pussy itching for his touch, for contact. I knew that it wouldn’t take me long. I was too worked up. He’d get me there in no time.

He took my hands and put them on his chest, and I ran them up and down over his sculpted, sweating torso.

“No,” he said, smiling. “We’re definitely not done yet. What kind of a man would I be if I let you do all the hard work without giving anything back?”

“The kind of man,” I said, “that too many women suffer with.”

“But not you,” he said.

“No, not me.”

“I like a woman with expectations.”

“And I like a man who knows his duty.”

We paused for a moment, our tiny conversation telling me everything I needed to know about Jim.

He took me by the hand and led me to my kitchen counter. “Turn around,” he said, and I did, and he bent me over the counter, my bum pointed directly at him. “Do you have any lubricant?”

“Lubricant?” I asked, wondering why. I was dripping wet! I felt his fingers move in between my legs, one on either side of my pussy. He squeezed my lips together before dragging a finger down my sodden slit.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he said, sucking on his finger. “But we’re going to need more.”

And suddenly I understood. I hadn’t done it in there for a few years now, and a fleeting moment of nervousness flared up inside me. “Yeah,” I said. “Okay. Let me go get it.” I ran up to the bedroom and took out the bottle of lube before coming back down and resuming my position on the counter. “But be gentle,” I said, and it was very much a command.

“Oh, no,” he said. “That’s for me. Later. We’ve got to take care of
you
, now.” I felt his wide dome suddenly press up against my dripping cunt lips. He moved around at my entrance, teasing me, smearing my juices all over himself before pushing in firmly and easily, making me groan out in a mixture of relief and desire.

“Shit,” I hissed as he filled me up more than I had ever been before. His cock felt huge inside me. It was amazing.

He drove himself into me all of the way on the first stroke, and I felt both surprise and elation that he had securely taken the reigns. He had my undivided attention.

He began to fuck me, using every inch of his cock. He drew himself his entire length before plunging back inside me. He swiftly picked up the pace, and I clenched myself around him. I was nearing, and so quickly! I moaned and cried at each of his powerful, penetrating thrusts. My core was heating. My pussy was aching.

My frustration seemed to be welling. It was bubbling, mixing in with desire, mixing in with expectation. The impending relief that would follow after an intense and climactic cresting…

I cried out wildly as he fucked me powerfully from behind. I bucked my hips back at him, driving him that little bit deeper inside me. His girth stretched me like no other man had before, and I didn’t own a toy this thick. His veins rippled past my folds.

His hand came around and began to massage my pearl. The sensations combined. I felt pent up. I had to release.

I was so, so close.

An enormous orgasm rose within me. It started in my pussy and swept through my body like a tidal wave of pleasure. I was destroyed by it. I screamed out loudly as my clenching canal spasmed on Jim’s thick and lengthy member. My elbows buckled and my eyes twitched and my stomach crunched and I was in bliss, in heaven.

And he fucked me still, driving me through my orgasm, before slowing gradually. He took his fingers from my sensitive clit. He slowed to a stop inside me, and just sat inside me while I continued to spasm and tighten around his meat.

“Oh, fuck,” I whispered, feeling the joy of orgasm waning. My frustrations were gone. I felt immense relief. I felt amazing satisfaction.

He pulled out of me, leaving me feeling empty, deflated. He ran his hands on the small of my back, rubbing me slowly as I panted, clouding the marble counter. Slowly his hands worked their way down to my bum, and he kneaded my cheeks slowly. I felt him lean downward, and then the warm press of his wet tongue was on my puckered hole.

He probed and licked and lapped at me with abandon. I shivered and shuddered, half in excitement, half in awe of his flare-up of lust. He grabbed the bottle of lube and squirted out what sounded like a copious amount onto his finger before he began to rub it around my entrance. It was cold and my body jolted.

“Jim,” I whispered. “Be gentle.”

“Of course,” he said, and he began to work my entrance more, and as the lube warmed up, I began to relax myself.

He pushed his finger inside me, and ran circles around and around, loosening me, helping me get ready. I focused on relaxing, already feeling myself getting excited again. It had been so long since I’d done this… and Jim was much bigger than the last guy.

Again, nervousness reared its head and I wondered if it was going to hurt.

“Relax for me,” Jim said softly, and I concentrated on letting myself go. He slipped in a second finger, and I could feel tantalizing tingles of pleasure in my pussy when he rubbed the lower wall. “Okay,” he said, withdrawing and squirting out another dollop of lubricant onto his hand.

“It’s cold,” I said, and he yelped as he rubbed it onto his cock. We shared a laugh, a strange moment of serenity amidst the heated, viscous passion.

A moment later I felt the tip of his cock pressed up against my puckered entrance, and my heart rate quickened, and I began to pant. Slowly, gradually, he began to press himself into me, and as I relaxed and opened up, he slipped inside almost effortlessly, thanks to the lubricant. It wasn’t painful, but I was definitely being stretched. It was a strange feeling, hovering at the edges of pain, just a hint and whisper here and there.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned from behind me, and I heard the quiver in his voice and I knew it wouldn’t be long until he climaxed. I liked that my tightness was already playing on him. We hadn’t even started yet.

My ring swallowed the wide dome of his bell, and after that his shaft seemed to slide easily into me. I felt filled up… completely. He buried himself inside me entirely, and I whimpered as he began to withdraw himself, as he prepared himself for his first thrust.

I felt his hands on my shoulders, steadying me, holding me. He pulled himself out to the very tip before easing himself back inside me, slowly, softly. I could feel his trimmed pubic hair on my bum, and I grinned at the sensation.

Jim continued to move at a snail’s pace. His control was awesome; his care affecting. He eased himself in and out of me, repeating the motions, letting me get used to it. The last time I’d done anal sex it had been rougher, with less accommodation for me. It had been for the guy and him alone. A selfish lover.

But Jim, he was different. He was softer. He
knew
. I groaned as I felt his hands reach around me and begin to massage my clit. It was hard and large and it flicked in between his fingers as he moved them left to right in a wide, slow circle.

He began to increase the rhythm of his thrusts, and his fingers too. It was an amazing sensation, his penetration just millimeters from being painful, and his teasing fingers sending shivers of sensation through me.

“Jim,” I panted, feeling myself inexplicably nearing again. “Oh, fuck, Jim, I’m going to come again!”

“Come for me,” he whispered, echoing what I had said to him. He continued his rhythmic pace. It wasn’t quick. It wasn’t how I normally got off. But there was something about the mixture of the feelings. I tightened. I felt the pressure build. I erupted for the second time. It exploded out of me and I cried out so loudly I was sure the neighbors on the other side had heard me. As I crested, Jim began to fuck me harder and faster. He drove me through that second orgasm and my legs trembled and my pussy was on fire.

Jim rode me. Hard. Fast. Ferociously.

I quivered beneath his grip. My lips were shaking. I was shouting out my moans without a care in the world.

He began to grunt and groan. His breaths quickened. I felt his body tighten. His hands became clamps on my shoulders.

He thrust into me one last time, hard and deep.

And he came again. I felt his cock twitch massively inside me, and at the same time a long and hoarse groan of pleasure left his lips. He ripped himself out of me quick enough for his second shot to sail over my bum and hit me in the back. His third shot was pasted onto my stretched ring, and he slumped over me, his powerful arms on either side of me, their defined muscularity and vascularity pulsing to his heartbeat.

“Jesus,” he said. I could feel myself still wide open, agape, and slowly my pucker began to contract, began to close.

“Shit,” I said, panting, and I turned in his arms and looked at him. A bead of sweat dripped off his chin and landed on my thigh. It had fallen in slow-motion. And unconsciously I pushed myself against his chest, and he held me in his arms.

We stood like that for minutes before he led me gently to a chair and sat me down in it. “I’ve got to get back to work,” he said, and I could only nod. He picked up his briefs and put them on before walking out of my kitchen, and, I knew, out of my life.

For the next few hours I sat in that chair and watched him work, tapping away at his computer. And all the while my hands moved rhythmically on my body, rubbing his essence into me.

I moved out, closer to the city. The memory of that afternoon is as potent as the when I experienced it. And I’m still trying to summon up the courage to drive back out there and ask Jim Stone, ex-man-next-door, if he’d like to go out for a coffee some time.

Or, if not, another romp would be just dandy.

# # #

Thank you for your support. There are so many examples of great and creative writing in the erotica genre, and all its sub-genres, and it is all often overlooked -- we are rarely afforded the privilege of shelf space. It is your patronage that allows me, and other erotica authors, to continue doing what we love.

For that, I am eternally grateful.

Thank you - Saffron.

Saffron Daughter is my pen name, and I'm in my early thirties. I'm a successful professional, engaged to be married to the love of my life, and I've traveled to over thirty countries. I also likes to write risqué and spicy erotica, especially of the taboo kind.

In my spare time, I do all the cliché things; walk on the beach at sunset, take my two rescued mongrels for long treks, and spend time with my fiancé any chance I get. But when I find a moment of peace, in between the job, the lover, and the dogs, I'm tapping away on my keyboard, penning my every dirty thought.

Thank you for supporting an indie author. Anything you can do, be it write a truthful review or tell a friend, I would appreciate.

Please email me at [email protected] anytime!

Check my
Author Page at Amazon
!

Check out this sneak peak of Saffron Daughter’s sexy story of girl who is good by day, but is a really bad babysitter by night:

Good Girl Bad Babysitter

* * *

Cynthia is babysitting the Johnson kids. They're tucked in and fast asleep, and she's got an hour to kill. She logs onto the computer and finds a whole heap of porn. With nothing better to do, she decides to watch some.

But when Mr. Johnson unexpectedly comes back home without his wife, things take a turn for the erotic...

* * *

The door opened and Cynthia went dutifully to go and greet whoever it might be. She was right. There, in the doorway, stood Mr. Johnson, alone, his hair disheveled and a look of exhaustion drooping his face. “Oh, hi Cynthia,” he said distantly. “The kids alright?”

“Fine, Mr. Johnson,” Cynthia piped. “They’re in bed, sleeping, safe and sound.”

“That’s good,” he said, repeating it again with a whisper. “That’s good.”

“Where’s Mrs. Johnson, if I may ask?”

“Oh, well, you know. Things didn’t go so well and she’s off to see a few of her girlfriends that she knew were out tonight.”

“Oh? I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Hudson. Is everything alright?”

“It will be in the morning, I guess, though this has been happening more frequently… Never you mind!” he said, allowing a small smile before walking to the living room and sinking into the sofa with a sigh. Cynthia move to sit beside him, and looked him squarely in the eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, feeling slightly sorry for the man. The more she looked at him, the more she realized how good he looked for a man his age. Distinguished would be an apt description, and he certainly hadn’t lost his body to the ravages of time.

“No, no, it’s alright. Would you like cash tonight?”

“Cash is fine,” Cynthia said, waving her hand as if to dismiss the importance of payment. She was more focused on something else at the moment.

She was more focused on him.

She put a hand on his thigh and began to stroke it slowly. “Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked again. “Are you sure that there is
nothing
I can do for you?”

“What?” Mr. Johnson said, staring at her hand dumbly as it caressed the top of his leg. His eyes slowly moved up to meet Cynthia’s, and in them she saw the dawning of understanding, and the nervous panic it had generated. “I, uh, don’t think, uh, that is is, you know… appropriate, Cynthia,” Mr. Johnson managed with some difficulty. An audible gulp punctuated his awkwardness.