Soaking Wet Read online

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “You missed this, don’t you mean?” Her eyes narrowed into catlike slits. “Margot’s a grumpy girl when she doesn’t get some.” She dropped the dildo on the rug and leaned over me, the change of angle rubbing her wet pussy against my mound.

  The humid heat seeped into my skin; the scent of her, musky and pungent, lured my fingers down to play.

  Kari groaned as I slid my thumb over her clit. “No fair. I’m supposed to be the one in charge.”

  “You are.” I grinned. “I wouldn’t be tempted if you would quit rubbing your pussy there.”

  Her laugh was sharp and pained. “Fffuck!” Her eyes closed and she jerked her hips forward and back, grinding her clit on my finger while her moisture dribbled through my own pulsing lips.

  She gave one last sexy slide and then pushed down my body. “Did I ever tell you I love a bald pussy?”

  “A time or two,” I gasped. Two fingers stroked inside me, swirling and stretching my entrance. I cupped my breasts and began to rock my hips, trying to lure her deeper or seduce her into putting her mouth where I needed it most.

  The flat of her tongue lapped the swelling folds. “I like it almost as much as I like you.”

  I glanced down and caught her gaze.

  Her nose wrinkled. “I know I haven’t been around much. I needed to think.”

  “You get things figured out?”

  “Almost.” Her fingers slid away and she reached for the dildo. She tucked the first four inches in her mouth and twirled it, then pulled it away. A string of spit, stretching from her lips to the tip of the soft lifelike cap, had me thinking for the first time that I might like to watch her going down on a man. She’d be insatiable. Her hungry little mouth would gobble him up and have him cramming deep into her throat.

  “Yeah, hold that thought,” she said, her expression smug.

  “Now you can read my mind?”

  “Your tits are spiking.” Her wide mouth stretched. “You wanna see me do a dude.”

  “What I wanna see is you doing something with that dildo besides teasing me.”

  Her laughter tinkled. No other way to describe it or her. Kari was elflike—small, slender, her frame so narrow she looked like a prepubescent teen from the rear.

  I was anything but petite. And I liked the fact I could subdue her with just my weight. Liked the way her eyes would darken when I rolled on top and began to pump my hips. Sometimes, I wore a strap-on, because I knew she liked it. But I’d left it at home, wanting nothing but our mouths and hands this weekend, nothing but ourselves.

  I should have known she wouldn’t leave home without one of her own toys.

  The cock kicked to life, humming loudly. The first glide landed on my clit, and she held the dildo there until the vibrations made the sensitive knot swell. She pulled the toy away, bent and latched on to me with her lips and sucked, drawing hard twice, then releasing with a succulent pop.

  My heartbeats slowed to a deep, rhythmic thrum. I raised my knees and planted my feet wide apart, opening to her, nestling into the furry rug at my back and resting my head on both my arms so that I could watch.

  She stretched my folds and tugged them upward, then leaned closer so that I could feel the warm gusts of her shortening breaths against me. Her tongue trailed along the edges of the outer lips, up and down. The tip of the dildo pushed inside me, just past the flanged ridge surrounding the cap, but no deeper. The humming tantalized and a gentle convulsion rippled up my channel.

  It wasn’t enough, and I growled to tell her so.

  A smile kicked up one corner of her mouth, and she twisted the cock inside me. My pussy clasped noisily around it, trying to trap it, but she pulled it out again.

  I slipped one hand from under my head and thrust my fingers into her soft, straight hair, tugging hard to punish her.

  “What do you want, Margot?” she asked, her voice filled with teasing laughter. “Gotta tell me. Gotta make me hot.”

  “Turn your ass around this way, and I’ll make you hot.” I’d wanted to sound surly, but I was panting too hard to be convincing.

  “You’ll get your turn. Promise. But if you want more, you’ve gotta give it to me dirty.”

  “Fuck. You expect me to be articulate when all I can think about is how fucking hot you look, lying between my legs?”

  “There’s a start.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting…

  I rolled my eyes and blew out a deep breath. “Okay…I want that plastic penis cramming up inside me and your mouth sucking my clit.”

  “Cramming? Like this?” She twisted it, gently screwing it into me, but only about three inches.

  My pussy clenched around the shaft, trying to draw it deeper. Again, I growled, frustration making me grind my teeth.

  Her lips were set in a straight line as though she were trying to keep from laughing.

  “I want your hand cupping the fucking base of that plastic prick and you shoving it up until you’re slapping my cunt. I want all of it, bitch.”

  Her lips pursed. Her hazel eyes narrowed. “Callin’ me names, now? What if I don’t like that?”

  “You fucking love it. Fucking little whore. Fucking cunt.”

  Kari giggled and dove down, slurping as she sucked my clit and crammed the dildo deeper.

  “That’s it, bitch,” I breathed. “Fuck, yeah. Bite it. Scrape it with your teeth.”

  I closed my eyes as she ratcheted up the heat, her mouth sliding over my clit, sucking, her tongue feathering over it, then, at last, her teeth chewing it, every scrape making my body writhe.

  “Fucking talented. Oughta sell clit-jobs. Make a fucking fortune.”

  She snickered. “You know you talk like a dude when you get desperate.”

  “I know what the fuck I want,” I said, pulling her hair again. “And you talk too much.”

  Her lips latched harder, and she shoved the whole six inches deep inside me, her hand sliding in the moisture she’d coaxed from inside me when it met my pussy.

  My hips rose and fell; moans, one after the other, ripped from my throat. “Fuck, yeah. Fuck, fuck.” And then the spiraling coil deep inside my belly loosened. I sucked in a deep breath and rode the high, clutching her head with both hands.

  When my fingers slipped away, Kari withdrew the cock and turned it off. Then she crawled upward to rest on her side next to me. She caressed a breast, bending to kiss one of the hard little spikes. “You know we have to talk,” she whispered.

  I sighed. “Yeah, we do.”

  “I want more,” she said quietly.

  “More what?” The words came out flat, with a tinge of annoyance. I winced inside, but I don’t take rejection well.

  “More…company.”

  “You want to see other people?” I closed my eyes, bracing for it. I could do this. I could share her. I just didn’t want to lose her completely. Maybe that made me weak, but I was falling for her.

  “Do you?”

  I peeked at her from beneath the fringe of my eyelashes, trying to gauge what her idle-sounding question really meant. If I said no, would she be afraid to be honest? But I didn’t want to see anyone else. Kari with her spritelike body and small kitten face was the only one I wanted to hover over while I fucked her.

  I gave her a cowardly shrug. My throat was too tight to push words out.

  She blew out an exasperated breath. “Dammit, Margot. You aren’t easy, are you?”

  “How can you say that? Didn’t you have my pants off an hour after we met?”

  “Don’t be smug. I’m serious. Things have to change.”

  I sat up and raked a hand through my hair, feeling frustrated and grumpy. “Can we table this until after I make you come?” Maybe if I proved to her that she wasn’t going to get any better than me, she’d be satisfied. Or maybe she’d just forget about this conversation. I could keep her busy all weekend with my mouth and fingers, keep her turned inside out and fuck-fogged. Then maybe we could put off talking until she
loved me as much as I loved her.

  Her mouth twisted and her eyes filled. I bent quickly and kissed her, cupping her head and taking her mouth gently. “Don’t you cry,” I said harshly when I pulled back.

  Her mouth crimped tighter.

  I shoved her to her back and crawled on top, trapping her legs between mine, wrapping my hands around her wrists and pinning her to the floor. “This is good. What we have could be fucking great.”

  She made a noise, but I didn’t want to hear a protest, and I covered her mouth again, eating her lips the way I wanted to eat her pussy. “Just shut up. Talk later. Told you, I wanna taste.”

  When I came up for air, she whispered, “Sometimes, you’re such a bitch.”

  “Who’s talking dirty now?”

  I scooted downward, hovering over one breast. Her nipples were softer than mine, velvety, puffy little cones—pale peach and just a shade or two darker than the soft skin surrounding them. “You’ve got the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

  “If you like them B-B sized,” she groused.

  “I do. Aren’t you lucky?”

  She snorted, but she settled deeper against the carpet.

  I had her now. I ignored the dildo and buried my face between her legs, sucking on her outer lips, sinking my tongue between them to catch the tangy fluid seeping from inside her.

  I thrust two fingers into her pussy and thumbed her clit, rasping my thumb over the hard, rounded knot.

  Tremors shook the thighs tightening around me and made her belly jump. Her head thrashed, her eyes squeezed shut.

  I worked two more fingers inside, cupping them to make them fit, and began the rhythmic push-pull while I bent closer and swirled my tongue over her clit, which had swelled past its hood.

  She came hard, jerking up her hips. I suctioned harder, pulling with my lips until she let loose a breathless, choked scream and settled again.

  Her fingers threaded through my hair and tugged, and I moved up her body, covering her. Resting on my elbows, I cupped her face and kissed her.

  When I broke the kiss, I framed her face with my palms. “I don’t want anyone but you. But if you need more, if you aren’t ready for it to be just about you and me, I’ll wait until you’re sure. I won’t push.”

  Her eyes glittered and her arms wrapped around me. “I was going to ask you if I could move in with you. My lease is up. I need to make plans.”

  I held still, trying not to get too excited. “You’re welcome to live with me. You can take my office—”

  Kari pressed a finger to my lips. “Shut up. I’ll be straight. I don’t know if I’ll never want anyone else again. But I’d like that to be our decision, because I’m with you. We aren’t going to be roommates. I plan to sleep in your bed.”

  The tightness in my chest that I hadn’t been aware of until that moment eased. I grinned down at her, watched her expression soften, watched her flick her tongue around her mouth and knew she wanted me to kiss her again.

  It was enough for now. More than I’d hoped for when I arrived. “And to think we still have two more days…”

  CRUISING

  Lee Cairney

  When I’m getting ready to go out on the prowl I often get a feeling like the excitement of being sick but without the nausea, like my stomach lining is trying to peel away. It feels good in the same way that inhaling sherbet up your nose feels good, and believe me, I do mean good. I pull on my heavy, steelcapped biker boots, tucking them under my leather trousers, and sling my battered black leather jacket over my white vest. One large silver spike rivets my ear. My hair is dark and cropped short, snug against my head. I was once told that I had eyes like flakes from an iceberg—whatever that means. I’m wearing bondage cuffs, tight confections of soft, supple, leather and stainless steel, around both wrists for the constriction and sheer pleasure of it. I know I’m looking good.

  I bang the door behind me and stroll down the hill from my apartment. I live in an ancient cathedral city where small, beautiful medieval churches cluster and old flint-faced walls run into each other. Beautiful, but it’s difficult to find the sex I need in this small, provincial place. I walk to the riverside, leaving little trails of iced breath in the dark air behind me. Dirty water slaps against the moorings and a line of grubby white cruising boats. I slouch my shoulders forward just a tiny bit and check that my jacket covers my small tits. It does. I step across the toll bridge and into the wooded park that marks the beginning of the local cruising area for gay men. I’ve become used to getting my kicks vicariously. I enjoy the ambiance. Strange men stalk between the trees, crunching leaves underfoot. Some of them walk dogs and feign nonchalance. I’ve even seen a few round here in business suits—no doubt, their wives are left waiting at home as they sully loafers in the mud and snag holes in pinstripe, rubbing against the rough bark of a tree as they’re taken brutally and swiftly by a faceless man they met twenty seconds ago.

  A whole new language of looks and come-ons develops. Rejection is as subtle as the tilt of a head. Tonight the air is spiced with the smoky tang of autumn and a sharp, slowly trickling sense of muted danger. Dark parkland, bushes, and trees lie ahead of me. Often I catch men fucking and stand and watch them—on their hands and knees, being shunted hard from behind, or half hidden by a bush having a thickening cock rammed into their warm mouths; even sitting on one of the forgotten park benches stroking each other’s dick.

  Walking soundlessly, I reach the center of the park, continually checking the shadows and real obstacles that appear in my path. My clit is tingling. It aches from the recent sight of a youngish-looking man being fucked in the arse by a blond, heavy man in biker’s leathers, whilst twisting his head around at the same time to service the throbbing, red-tipped erection of another kneeling man. I had to force myself to steal quietly away before they shot down his throat and up his arse, worried I’d forget myself and betray my presence by some involuntary noise of lust and jealousy mixed together. Now just ahead of me I see the outline of a tall, slim shape leaning against a tree. I prepare myself to walk past casually but my heart is bumping in my chest cavity. For the first time tonight I feel like I’m on display. The man is dressed in dark clothes, jeans and a jacket perhaps, and is leaning with one foot up against the tree. Something dangles from his right hand—oh, it’s a dog leash. I relax slightly. I’m close enough to see that his hair is cut even shorter than mine. I look around but can’t see the dog.

  “Hey,” the figure murmurs softly and I follow the sound without any real thought. I’m standing opposite now, face-toface. For all my five feet seven I feel short. A kind of pleasurable sensation freezes my brain as the dog owner reaches forward with leather-gloved hands and manipulates me so I’m facing the tree. I’m pushed so hard against it that I can feel the patterns of the bark pressing into my cunt. Hypnotized, I stay pressed against the thick trunk while the leash is used to fasten my hands together around the other side, securing me tightly to the tree.

  “Cuffs—convenient,” a concentrating voice mutters from the other side of the tree. The burning, stretching sensation in my arms as the final knot is tied restores some of my sense to me.

  “What are you doing?” A pathetic and useless question. The dog owner suddenly slams against me from behind, shoving me hard and nearly winding me.

  “You should be quiet. I’m going to expose you…play with you…do what I like with you. If you want to be freed at the end don’t make it necessary for me to use a gag or blindfold.”

  I stop squirming and trying to turn my head to see over my shoulder. That and my heavy breathing are taken for assent. All I can think is how I can now feel breasts against my back, and something harder, lower. The voice, although gruff, isn’t quite low enough to be a man’s, I realize. I can’t believe it.

  A cold, gloved hand reaches round and flips open the buttons of my trousers. Then my trousers are dragged down round my ankles. My assailant—whom I now know to be a woman—hoists my vest and jacket into a bundle aroun
d my shoulder blades. The chill air is like a slap to my whole body. My skin creeps up into gooseflesh. I’m naked, exposed, tied to a tree. I wonder how many people can see the luminous white of my flesh in the darkness, watching me just as I watched them. Leathermen, big daddies, bikers, circling around me with their cocks out, stroking themselves to hardness.

  I can feel the zip of her jeans and hard metal of her belt buckle pressing into my bare arse and burning with the cold. Her hands reach round and grab the erect tips of my nipples as my legs are kicked apart—as wide as the trousers shackling my ankles will allow. She just spreads me wide and helps herself. My nipples are being plucked and pinched and teased into aching points of chafed skin. Then the pressure against my arse recedes and all my thoughts are concentrated in my nipples being worked so hard and grazed against the rough skin of the tree.

  My cunt is dripping wet as I feel the cold tip of something long and very thick pressing tantalizingly against it. I try to open my legs wider but fail and I let out a visceral grunt of frustration. The freezing silicone head is rubbed up and down across the opening to my cunt, nudging up to my erect clit and slowly back down again to rest against the tight pucker of my arsehole.

  “Maybe I should take you right here,” she says, “like the little gay boy that you are, cruising around in the woods, looking for sex. Well, you’ve found it.”

  The head of her dick pushes against my clenched arsehole.

  “No,” I hear myself saying, “I’ve never been taken there.” Can’t she read the signs? I’m a top. I do not take it up the arse.

  “Forbidding me, are you?” she croons. “We’ll see.”

  Before I can reply she slams the thick dick she’s packing into my cunt. Opening and stretching me, she gives my tight hole no time to adjust to the length and thickness. My cunt aches as she rams against the top of my cervix with her blunt, thick head, pulling nearly all the way out of me before thrusting back deep inside me. All I can feel is her in my cunt and her leather and metal bruising my buttocks. Anger at my enforced and unusual passivity and the sheer force of her cruel and energetic pounding begins to warm me.