The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions (59 page)

“Oh, yeah, that feels good,” he said, abandoning his massive cock to my worshipping hand.

“You ain’t felt nothin’ yet,” I told him, and bent down and teased the tip of his over-swollen manhood with my outstretched tongue.

His body jerked and slammed back against the wall.

“Easy, big guy,” I warned, vaguely recalling that there was a very public store beyond the thin partition of the change booth.

We’d have to keep things quiet. The sense of danger and urgency only hardened my cock further.

“Suck my dick,” he whispered fiercely.

I grunted an affirmative, held his huge rod at its base, and proceeded to tongue-flog his cock head – teasing the sensitive underside, slapping my tongue across his slit, licking him up
and down in long, hard, wet strokes. He thrust his hips forwards, begging me to get with some serious cock-sucking, and I did. I took the enormous head of his cock into my mouth and sucked on it
– popped it in and out until its rich, full blackness gleamed with saliva under the muted lights.

He ran his fingers through my short, blond hair, urging me to suck deeper on his prick, spurring me on, pulling my head closer. The air grew thick with the smell of man inside the cramped
cubicle. I opened my mouth wide and sucked up and down his shaft, taking more and more of his humungous cock into my mouth with each head bob. My mouth was a vacuum, and when I’d consumed
almost half of his magnificent meat, his hood banged up against the back of my throat. I further relaxed my throat muscles and kept right on gulping down his cock.

“Jesus Christ!” he cried out.

I spun my eyes upwards and stared meaningfully at his incredulous face. Then I refocused on the pleasurable task at hand and continued on my way down his night-shaded cock. Inch by swollen inch
I sucked his cock into my mouth and throat, taking my sweet time, enjoying the sensation of deep-throating this man’s massive dick. His hands clutched desperately at my hair, and I felt sweat
drip off his face and splash down onto mine – and what was left of his rapidly disappearing black battering ram.

“I’m gonna come in your mouth, baby!” he hissed.

It was time for the final push. I thrust my head forwards and gobbled down the remaining two inches of his ebony dong. It slid down easy. His entire cock was now packed into the warm, wet
tightness of my mouth and throat. I pushed out my tongue and lapped at his pube-sprinkled balls.

It was all too much for him. He moaned and his body jerked and hot come gushed down my throat. His body spasmed over and over, and with each spasm came a stream of sizzling semen. He tore at my
hair, grunted repeatedly, come pouring out of his ruptured cock and flooding my throat. The sensation was exhilarating for me, sheer ecstasy for him.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured, dazed and disoriented by the magnitude of his come-letting. He let go of my head and his hands dropped to his sides.

Then he watched in wasted wonderment, through half-closed eyes, as I slowly tugged his spent cock out of my throat, one sopping wet inch at a time. It tumbled out of my gaping maw like a python
uncoiling, until, finally, I had only his cock head left in my mouth. I sucked hard on it, milking it, draining away and swallowing the last few drops of his salty-sweet goodness. “Now
it’s my turn,” I said.

“Anything,” he groaned. “Anything.”

I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my pants and shorts. My cock rose stiff and sure in the super-heated air. It wasn’t quite as long as his hardened rope, but it could still plug holes
with the best of ’em. “I want to fuck you in the ass,” I said frankly.

He smiled and dropped to the floor and onto his knees, propping his arms up on the bench and raising his big, black ass into the air, demanding some man-loving. I moved in behind him, took hold
of his butt cheeks. They were round and taut and thick, and I kneaded them with my hands, caressed them, squeezed them, slapped the playful pair of them.

“Fuck my ass,” he said, resting his chin on the bench, reaching back and pulling his butt cheeks apart.

I gazed into the blinding black nothingness of his asshole, and my pulse quickened another twenty beats per minute. I spat a couple of times into my trembling hand and then rubbed my cock with
the warm saliva. I rubbed some of the spit into his bunghole and he moaned, and then I gently pushed my purple cock head against his pucker.

I pushed harder and my cock head slowly eased into his glorious ass. The sensation was pure heaven; he was tight – very, very tight. I shoved more of my rigid cock into his vicelike bum,
more and more, until, unexpectedly, he thrust backwards and my cock sank all the way in. I was buried to the balls. “Yeah,” I groaned, the hot, tight feeling sending sexual shock waves
crashing through my electrified body.

“Fuck my ass!” he pleaded.

I thrust in and out of him, slowly, slowly at first, then faster and faster. My steely seven inches cut him in two as I banged away at him, pounding my meat into his spectacular ass. My balls
smacked against his rippling butt cheeks, the sharp sound rising above our muted moaning and groaning, and I slammed him over and over again.

There is no better sensation on this earth than the raw, unbridled, flaming sexual sensation of plundering a young man’s heavy, gripping ass with a raging hard-on. I thumped my new
lover’s bottom for all I was worth, for as long and as hard as I could. And that wasn’t long. “I’m gonna come!” I cried out hoarsely.

“Come in my ass!” he hissed.

My head started to swim and sweat poured off my face, and then searing semen raced the engorged length of my dick, roared out of the tip and erupted into his butt. “Fuck, yeah,” I
whimpered, my body jerking to and fro as I blasted that sweet man with load after load of jism. His butt cheeks bounced joyously as I kept pounding into him, filling his ass with come.

Somehow, we managed to pull ourselves back together, and I sold him the pants that he’d taken into the change room. Before he left, I gave him my business card – with my home phone
number jotted in.

Charlotte, Stittsville

I’m a freak . . . Charlotte Davidson, a woman who doesn’t orgasm. I’ve tried. I’ve had sex with numerous men. But I’ve never managed to come. I
was resigned to spending my life as an orgasmic virgin. Then about a year ago, in a most unladylike display, I threw a temper tantrum.

I was a dinner guest of Alice and John, my best friends. Alice was constantly finding eligible men for me, hoping someone could solve my sexual difficulties. Tonight’s “eligible
man” was Nigel Roberts, a new faculty member at the college where we taught. Apparently Mr Roberts was very interested in me.

The dinner had gone well and Roberts was both interesting and charming. Then over cognac Alice asked, “Nigel, can you recommend a good sex manual for Charlie? She has a problem: she
can’t come during sex. She’s fucked many men but nobody’s managed to bring her to orgasm.”

I blushed scarlet and squirmed in embarrassment at this public announcement of my sexual inadequacies.

Roberts looked puzzled. “You must have sex with the wrong men,” he said. “Giving an orgasm is easy if you handle the woman properly.”

His arrogance enraged me.

“So making a woman come is straightforward, is it?” I snapped. “Just follow the instructions in some manual and bingo . . . orgasm. Well, it’s not like that with me.
Every man has told me my cunt is too tight and I appear not to have a clitoris. So I’m a very difficult lay. I’ll bet you can’t make me come, Mr Roberts.”

Roberts considered for several seconds. “I’ll bet I can, Ms Davidson.”

I was furious. “I think you’re a conceited prick,” I snarled. “How much do you want to bet? A hundred bucks.”

“Done,” he said.

When Alice and I were alone I hissed, “How could you do that, Alice?”

“Because Nigel’s the right man for you, Charlie,” she replied. “He’s the nicest guy, he’s good-looking and he’s hot for you. So get over your temper
tantrum. Just go to bed and fuck him.”

But I thought Nigel Roberts a conceited male with an inflated ego and I intended to deflate it. As we left he said, “You’re a challenging woman, Ms Davidson. I’ll be in touch
soon.”

I expected we would meet in a bar some evening, and after a couple of drinks Roberts would take me back to his apartment for sex. Instead he arranged our encounter on a Saturday afternoon in the
lobby of an upscale hotel. As we met, I did not offer to shake his hand but he raised mine to his lips to kiss. “You look beautiful, Ms Davidson,” he murmured.

I am not beautiful and I know it. The bastard is mocking me, I thought. That’ll make his humiliation especially pleasing.

“So, where do we fuck?” I asked.

“In one of the hotel rooms,” he replied.

I was astonished. Roberts had booked a room in this expensive hotel for a sexual encounter that would last only a few minutes! The room was lavishly appointed with a luxurious king-size bed.
Well, I thought, at least I’ll be comfortable while he fumbles with me.

“Do you have any rules I must follow?” he asked.

I eyed him, trying to decide how far I could trust him. “No. You may do whatever you like, but I can stop you at any time.” He nodded in agreement. “And you must undress
first.”

Roberts was taken aback, but reluctantly he complied. He was tall, slim and well toned, really quite handsome. But his cock . . . uh . . . feeble.

Roberts moved behind me and I stood motionless as he peeled off my top and unhooked my bra. He cupped my breasts, fondling them, playing with the nipples. “Your breasts are perfect, Ms
Davidson,” he whispered.

Lying bastard, I thought. I know my tits are too small.

He unfastened my skirt and slipped it over my hips. Suddenly, through my panties, I felt a hard ridge jammed against my ass. Holding my rear tight against his erection, Roberts slipped a hand
down the front of my panties, stretching them as he cupped my mons, combing his fingers through my pubic hair. He moved lower, probing for my absent clitoris, then burrowed into my slit.

I realized with surprise that I liked his foreplay. Jesus, no! I thought. I’m here to humiliate this man.

Roberts knelt before me and pressed his face into my crotch. I felt his warm breath through my panties before he slowly pulled them down to my thighs. Suddenly I felt shy. I’ve undressed
for innumerable men, so why should I feel embarrassed? But standing there in black stockings and high heels with my panties around my thighs I felt utterly naked.

“I think a woman is most sensuous when stripped as you are now, Ms Davidson. You are gorgeous.” I blushed scarlet at the compliment.

Roberts pressed his face into the triangle of fur I left on my shaved pubis, then buried his nose in my crotch. “Your womanly aromas are intoxicating,” he murmured.

Jesus, I thought, what’s he going to do? I eyed his penis. No longer feeble, it was big and strong and eager. Suddenly he stood, picked me up, carried me to the bed and laid me on my back.
I had to be careful my heels didn’t tear the sheets.

Roberts leaned over me and kissed my eyes, licking the closed lids. His tongue traced a path along my throat then lapped in the hollow at the base. He took my breasts again, kneading them,
squeezing them hard. They were swollen by his stimulation and he sucked hard on my engorged nipples.

I liked his smell and the feel of his tongue and mouth on me. No, I thought, this is not supposed to happen.

His tongue traced intricate patterns over my ribs, moved slowly down my belly and licked my pubis. Then Roberts put my legs up to his shoulders and very slowly pulled off my panties.

Without warning he lifted me so I was upside down, my head and shoulders resting on the bed with my ass in the air against his chest. Seizing my ankles, he splayed my legs wide to expose my
genitals just inches from his face. He contemplated my pussy with rapt attention then put his face into my vulva and inhaled.

“The flower between your legs is exquisite,” he breathed, “and its fragrance is divine. You are mouth-watering, Ms Davidson, the most erotic woman I have ever seen.”

Me, erotic! He’s delusional, I thought. But I didn’t know what to do. I shouldn’t have permitted him to inspect my private parts so brazenly, but it was exciting. Jesus, what
was happening to me?

I was trying to decide whether to stop the experiment when Roberts began to lick my inner thighs. He worked slowly from one stocking top across my pussy to the other. I’d no idea my thighs
could be so sensitive and he left me gasping for breath.

Releasing my ankles but keeping me inverted against his chest, Roberts opened me, spreading wide the inner lips to expose the pink flesh and red orifice.

Roberts studied these intimate structures for a long time then slowly began to lick my pussy. My rear squirmed against his chest as his tongue probed every fold and hollow and crevice. But when
his tongue pushed into my opening, I went rigid, unable to breathe.

I knew that I should stop the experiment now, close my legs. But the sensations were so delicious I didn’t want them to stop. I kept my legs splayed.

Roberts drew back my clitoral hood, inspected me, then hesitated, before slipping a finger up underneath it. I almost exploded. Whatever he had found up there was indescribably sensitive. I had
never experienced such electrifying sensations. Licking his finger, he again went under the hood and rubbed what must be a clitoris, caressing it, swirling around it, squeezing it. When he pushed
his tongue up and licked it, I convulsed.

I had to stop him; I needed time to think. With a supreme effort of will I closed my legs.

But he gave me no respite. Spreadeagling me on my back, he continued working my clitoris with his finger while sucking my tender nipples. I pulsed under the stimulation, moaning with
pleasure.

Holding back the hood, Roberts again sucked the sensitive nodule. Then his finger eased into my orifice. I was wet but, as always, very tight and he had to work his finger slowly up my passage.
It felt so good that I couldn’t breathe as he held me pierced. Carefully he withdrew his finger and sucked it.