The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions (57 page)

“Booths with windows in their arcade. How weird is that?” I scrunched my nose a bit.

“The heat is killer,” Jerry said slyly. “I think we should go inside and cool off.”

Inside, the true seediness of this establishment was revealed. I love seediness. It lends to atmosphere. All the porno videos that were on display, covers with tits, pussies, cocks, assholes and
a myriad of other visual stimuli, were right there in front of us. Even the guy at the counter was seedy, and unable to complete a coherent sentence. He had long greasy hair and was dressed in a
wife-beater that gave him an aura of trailer trash.

A big neon red cursive sign to the back right of the counter advertised arcade. We walked back hand in hand. It smelled of old sex, love, hate and everything in between.

The inside of the booths were a little dark, but there was a window as promised. The window was covered with a set of blinds on the voyeur’s side only. One wall had a TV screen and a slot
to put your money in. Ads for Michael Nin films and the adult mega-star Jewel De’Nyle flashed on the screen in front of us. A bench with torn upholstery was the only furniture. The bench was
covered in dingy green vinyl.

As I walked in I realized that our neighbour could hear us, and see us. I could feel dampness start to come from my honey hole. The walls didn’t go all the way to the top. Jerry was
smiling brightly at the realization that others could see and hear us.

The man beside us peeked through the window watching us. Pulling the slats from the blinds apart, he got a better view as I stripped completely out of my clothing. Our neighbour was balding and
had glasses. I flashed him a smile. I heard the blinds come open fully. Now the middle-aged nameless man was staring at us openly. I started to think of him as Peeping Tom. He looked like an old
elementary schoolteacher of mine.

“Bend over the bench, my little cunt.” Jerry’s voice had a sadistic edge to it. That edge is what always has and always will make my pussy wet. “Our neighbour wants to
see your pussy,” his voice teased me. I knew that both Jerry and Peeping Tom were staring. I wanted to give them the show of their lives.

Bending over, I spread my thighs. I felt our neighbour’s eyes focusing on my cunt. Juicy is what Jerry called my pussy lips. He adored my plump round belly, the flab on my arms. All of it
encased in golden olive skin. I have fine black ringlet curls on the top of my head, a full mouth and brown eyes that sparkle flecks of gold when I’m excited.

Still bending over the green vinyl bench staring at the concrete floor, I felt a sharp smack to my pussy.

“Ah!” I yelped. I jumped a little.

Jerry laughed. “You’re so responsive.” He leered at me. “Your pussy is weeping. God, you’re a fuckin’ whore.” Cruelty was in his voice. His cruelty only
made me wetter. I could feel juices dripping down the inside of my thighs.

“Ah.” The moan came from a place deep inside my belly. Really it wasn’t just my belly. It started at my clit, travelled up my womb, through my belly, then snaked its way out my
mouth.

“Horny, bitch?” Rhetorical question. Of course I was fucking horny. I wanted to suck his big fat juicy cock right that instant, then shove it in my cunt. Jerry never let me have
things when I wanted them though. I knew how the game worked. Jerry’s fingers traced my lips. I could hear Mr Peeping Tom next door breathing heavily. He must have been choking his chicken.
Hell, he had to have been. God, my cunt was dripping its silky smooth fluid. I could feel my lips swollen, engorging themselves with blood.

I felt a stinging sensation; Jerry was spanking me. The unmistakable crack of his palm on my ass cheek. The burning and stinging that followed. The muscles inside my hot wet hole were spasming
and aching. All I wanted was something inside.

“He’s looking at you, my wanton little slut.” I couldn’t see Jerry’s face, but I knew what kind of grin was there. An evil one.

I felt Jerry’s fingers probe into my slick hot hole. He pulled them out.

“Look at this. Little threads of girl come.” Jerry shoved his fingers in front of my face. “My. You are a slut,” he said. “I’m going to show our
neighbour.” He held his fingers coated in my silk up to the window. A grunt from the man at the window reached my ears.

“I think I like you best like this,” Jerry told me cruelly.

“Uh-huh,” came my reply. I don’t know what I was replying to. Maybe just the reactions in my body. Maybe to Jerry. I never knew. I just knew that in those moments I was an
object of desire. I only lived for his desire.

“What’s that? A grunt of gratification, my little bitch?” He always knew exactly what to say to me. Jerry knew dirty talk just made me all the more wanton for him.

“Should I show our neighbour how much you like my cock in your pussy?”

I had been thinking that he would never ask. My hole was hungry for him.

“Please, Jerry.” I was begging. I felt empty in my lower abdomen. It was always hard when he did this.

“I’m going to fuck your pussy,” he said in a primal and growling voice. “Then I’m going to fuck your face. Of course I can’t leave your asshole
unattended.” He stuck his finger in my asshole to emphasize the fact. I rose up on my tiptoes at the entrance of his finger. I loved and hated having my asshole violated. It was something I
didn’t want, but I needed.

“Oh God. You’re so fucking wet.” He was bent over me whispering in my ear. It was more of a hiss. I got off on it.

An unintelligible moan escaped my lips. I felt his cock probing my cunt opening. The probing was always torturous. It spread my hole just enough to let me know what was to come. I was wondering
if the guy in the next booth over had died from a heart attack yet at this point. It wasn’t every day that people got to see normal couples like Jerry and I fucking each other stupid in an
adult arcade. I knew that most of the men who visited places like this weren’t getting what they needed at home. It made me smile to think I might be filling that need in a vicarious way for
someone.

Jerry’s cock teased me mercilessly.

“Jerry, please fuck me.” I almost screamed it. My need was so desperate.

“Not yet, whore.” God, he was going to make me wait for ever. Damn him.

“Fuck you,” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?” He spanked me ten times. Those were very stingy. Retribution for what I knew he could not hear. It was one of our games. A small spanking that pretended to punish. I
felt him shove his cock into my hungry pussy.

“Oh, Corinne. You’re such a slut when I want you to be. What a dirty little bitch.” He said it just loud enough for our neighbour to hear, as he pounded into me. I was grinding
backwards taking in as much of him as I could. My pussy clenched on to him tightly. Oh God, how I wanted to come with him inside me. When he took his cock out I ached. I could feel the emptiness. I
whimpered. He hated whimpering, because soon enough I’d have his dick back. Maybe not in the same hole.

“Kneel,” he commanded me. Jerry was going to fuck my face. I knew it.

“Please, Jerry, fuck my cunt again,” I begged him.

“I said kneel, cunt.” It was an unforgiving command punctuated with a sharp smack to my thighs this time. I knelt as quickly as possible. Slaps to the butt made me more excited, but
slaps to my thighs burned painfully. Of course, as soon as the sting had worn off I was at a new level of sensitivity. Everything in me became a raw nerve ending. Even my mouth.

“Suck my cock, bitch.” Sharply he slapped my face. I heard Mr Peeping Tom taking deep laboured breaths. I moaned. My lips encircled his cock. I took all of him into my mouth, pumping
my tongue along the length of his shaft.

It was Jerry’s turn to moan. He pumped himself harder into my mouth.

His cock was hot and throbbing inside my mouth. He tasted and smelled musky. Musky and salty with sweat. I always relished that flavour. My own juices mingled with his. My own flavour was acidic
and had its own musk. His cock had been in my pussy marinating in my juices. His cock soaked in my pussy was truly a gourmet experience.

I could feel Jerry getting closer to his climax. I always wished he’d do it in my mouth. Hot white come down my throat was always a huge treat; come was always slightly bitter, making my
throat burn.

“You said something naughty to me.” His voice was evil, patronizing, both these things at once. “You don’t get to swallow today,” he said to me. “I’m
going to stretch your asshole out. Then I’m going to shoot my load into your ass. You’re going to shit come ribbons. You little slut.” His voice was gravelly.

“Fuck her ass for the love of God, please.” It was Mr Peeping Tom from next door. He was obviously getting off on our show.

“Oh, I see someone else admires your slutty ass.” Jerry smacked each cheek harshly. I was sure he was leaving handprints. My ass was always pink after us being together, this time
was no exception.

“Bend back over the bench, whore.” His voice was rough, commanding. I was so far into myself I barely heard him, but I understood that my mouth was no longer full. Jerry would want
to finish in one of my holes, I knew that. He always had finished in my ass.

The head of his shaft traced my perineum. The sensation was like electricity, and even more electrical because I knew there was someone watching.

“Uh.” Peeping Tom next to us was grunting. He should have been close. I liked to think that my display might have inspired him to a double orgasm.

“I’m gonna’ fuck your ass, slut,” Jerry told me roughly.

The rough burning sensation penetrated my asshole. I felt it stretch to accommodate his cock. The skin and hole stretched themselves to accommodate him. Sweet burning pain filled me. Jerry
grunted behind me. His balls were slapping into my cheeks as he pumped in and out.

“Oh yes. Fuck that slut’s ass.” It was the neighbour. “Fuck her hard. Make her hurt.” His breath and speaking were laboured. I could hear him stroking himself.

“Oh God,” Peeping Tom yelled out. “Look, you nasty slut. I’m creaming all over myself because of your tight nasty little asshole.” He was screaming.

I was able to feel Jerry still working in and out. The sensation filled me.

“Oh, Corinne, you fucking slut.” His voice was raspy, on the edge of coming. “I am going to come in your asshole, bitch.” Ashe said it he finished. The warm salty sting
of his fluids filled my anus.

“Oh!” Peeping Tom managed to come too. I heard as he wiped himself down, and ran from the booth. Jerry was still in my ass. Slowly he worked himself out making a popping sound as the
head came out.

I felt dirty, violated, and absolutely satisfied after being fucked. I especially loved that someone I didn’t know was watching. I cleaned myself up and got dressed. I helped Jerry clean
himself up. We left adult store hand in hand. The clerk smiled at us knowingly. I noticed there were cameras that could be focused into the booths to make sure everything was OK. So more people had
been watching than I’d ever guessed. At least we had given them a good show.

Jerry and I parted ways soon after our video-store experience. He still contacts me from time to time telling me that I was the most fun he’d ever had with a woman. I smile to myself,
never revealing he’s the most fun I ever had with any man.

Lynne, Eindhoven

Getting off the coach, I peered around, though goodness knows what I was looking for. It may sound weird, but I’d never seen a photo of Paul. After sending him mine I had
waited for him to return the favour, but nothing had arrived. I won’t say it wasn’t worrying. Perhaps he was ugly as sin, or an octogenarian with an extremely vivid imagination. Or, my
God, perhaps he was actually a woman? He’d told me an awful lot about himself in his emails, but, as with most cyber stuff, there was no way I could prove any of it. I’d just trusted he
was telling me the truth. I knew his address, but never even thought of checking out if it was genuine. Suddenly I was beginning to have major doubts about the whole idea. Some people might say it
was a bit late to start questioning motives after a nine-hour journey to a foreign country, and some people would be right.

Again I stared around the bus station, searching out anyone who looked a likely candidate for a freelance bookseller, and came up blank. It was up to him to find me, and so I stood there,
feeling, and probably looking, decidedly lost. After ten minutes no one was showing the slightest inclination of approaching me and I began to wonder if I was actually in the right place. I’d
assumed he’d meet me off the bus, but perhaps he’d meant us to meet outside. Picking up my bag, I made my way to the exit, casting my gaze round the bustling terminus. The place was
crowded, and getting more so with every passing moment. It would be so easy to miss each other, especially as I had no idea what Paul looked like. If he was here at all.

A quarter of an hour later I was in a panic. Pacing up and down, trying to look in all directions at once, I was beginning to attract strange glances. And then, when I’d given up all hope,
a hand descended on my shoulder. Startled, I swung round. “Paul?” I squeaked. Could this be my fifty-year-old bookseller? It was hard to tell his age exactly because of the beard and
long hair.

He raised his eyebrows. “I’ve been watching you for the last fifteen minutes. I’ve been sitting in my lorry, on my break, and didn’t have much else to do. I take it
you’re supposed to be meeting someone?”

So, not Paul? “Well, yes, I am. But I’ve got a horrible feeling I’ve been stood up.”

“A boyfriend, then?”

I blushed. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got the time. Fancy a coffee? You can keep an eye on here from the restaurant.”

“I – er, yeah, OK. I could do with a drink.”

Over a hot chocolate I found myself telling the stranger the whole story. Well, almost the whole story. I doubted he was interested in the real reason behind my visit. A shared fantasy that was
no one else’s business but our own.

“You say you know where he lives?”