Thursday, June 18, 2009

Talk To Me Like The Rain and Let Me Listen

Layla stretched out upon Egyptian cotton sheets and purred like a sated feline. Niccolo ran one long finger across the flesh between her legs and watched her arch. Truly a pussycat, this one, he thought.

Her secretive smile caused his groin to tighten and ache. She was a miracle of sensual beauty. A woman who would do all a man wanted; decadent, hedonistic things. With her hands. Her mouth. Just touching her breasts made him hard. Sinking into the sweet heat of her body was beyond ecstasy.

His fingers slid inside her moist flesh, flexing as she writhed. The smile never left her face and her eyes sparkled beneath half-closed lids.

"More!" Her murmur was an aphrodisiac. He pushed her onto her back, spread her legs and leaned down to taste. With lips and tongue he thoroughly explored her cunt. He repeatedly brought her to the edge of orgasm before her entreaties led him to take pity on her.

Thrusting his unbearably hard cock deep into her, he fucked her hard, watching her face as he did so. When she spasmed around him he redoubled his efforts. The sensation of her flesh clenching on his spurred him on.

"You are made for fucking, Layla. You feel incredible."

"More, Niccolo!"

"Your pussy is joy - I could stay in you forever. I dream of sleeping with my cock inside you, feeling you tight as a glove around me. "

"Oh, Niccolo - talk to me! Talk to me like the rain .... drown me in your words ... like the clouds have opened and I am soaked and wet and slick .... cover me with your voice!"

Her voluptuous voice and her breathless panting stroked him and he plundered her flesh maddened like a beast. Uncontrollable with desire. He wanted to consume her.

Then he broke like a thunderstorm, the lightening of pleasure smashing through his body until his cum flooded inside her, hot, liquid. He filled her with his life force and reveled in the joining of their bodies in the brutal, boisterous act.

Afterward, they lay entwined as the gauzy curtains wafted in the evening breeze off the water. Layla was limp beneath him, her heart beating a steady rhythm beneath his chest. Her spirit was strong. Her appetites voracious. Yet her skin was silken and her hands gentle.

"Sit up," she whispered against his lips. He rolled to his side and sat up on the edge of the bed as she slid off and down between his legs.

Her gaze on his semi-erect cock - he was never fully soft around Layla - was one of hunger and yearning.

She leaned over and ran her tongue up the length, suckled the broad head, her tongue tickling his slit. Sucking him deep once and then twice, she looked up at him and licked her lips where a smile played.

She paused in her suckling to smile up at him.

"Talk to me, to me like the rain and let me listen."

Friday, June 12, 2009

Shooting the Rocket

Alexa hugged her Magnum 357 to her chest. She was huddled inside the closet of her target hoping to evade detection until her back-up arrived. The guy was such a loser – if he’d been watching the house he’d have spotted the perp returning and could have warned her. Instead in bopped the low-rent Lothario with his latest lady. Now they were doing the mattress mambo with great vigor. She was getting a little nauseous listening to the couple’s love talk.

“Oh, Big Daddy, that’s right, give Momma your love rocket – right there, baby!”

“You like that, little Momma? Like your honey box stuffed with Daddy’s meat, huh?”

The banging of the headboard drowned out the next few lines, thankfully. If her partner didn’t get here soon she was going to shoot herself in the head so she didn’t have to listen to any more. God, she’d never be able to have sex again if this kept up.

“YES! Take me to heaven, ride your Daddy hard.”

The sound of smacking flesh and Alexa realized someone was getting a spanking. This was really starting to get to her.

She loved getting her ass swatted as much as the next gal, but something about this whole scenario smacked alright – of a bad Hollywood movie script.

Sounds resembling rutting pigs emanated from the room. She sat inside the smelly closet shaking her head in disbelief. Where the hell was Jack? The nimrod was probably giving himself a hand job in the car while she suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune in this stinky closet.

Thank God, finally, her cell phone vibrated against her hip. She checked the number and smiled grimly. Jack must finished spanking the monkey and decided to get back to work. He was coming in. Fortunately for Alexa, while the man was dumber than a box of rocks, he was a great cop. Big, fast and great with a gun.

Easing to a standing position ignoring her knees screaming in protest, she cracked the closet door. It wasn’t in a direct line of sight to the bed so she stuck her head out far enough to see the couple was still heavily engaged.

Stalking quietly, gun in position, she got an eyeful of Momma and Daddy fucking like bunnies.

The woman was a voluptuous sort and her target had a hold of her and was banging her up and down on a rod Alexa had to admit was pretty impressive. Hell, if only it had been attached to her last date she might have had a better time. This guy’s cock was a monster and she couldn’t help but admire the ride that gal was getting. Crappy dialogue notwithstanding.

Alexa stepped up to the bed. The woman’s eyes flew open, she squealed and jumped off her ride. Little Mike (and now Alexa knew where that nickname came from) opened his eyes and stared straight into the barrel of Alexa’s 357.

“Boy, talk about coitus interruptus,” she said with an evil smile.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Hot & Sweet

"Touch me," he said. He sat in the chair, his once powerful legs now slender and still. He couldn't always get an erection, but sometimes, we managed a bit of a stiffy.

But he loved to watch me. I was naked and I kneeled between his legs, my gaze reverent and my lips curved as I thought of the joy of sucking his cock as he held my head, urging me on with dirty words and gutteral moans.

We'd only been together since his accident. I'd known him for a year before. He had been the mechanic at my garage, and my trusty little Nissan always needed something. He'd smile and undercharge me and pat my dog on the head. Then he'd turn back to his next job, all serious and intense, determined to do the best work possible.

I heard about his accident in the drugstore. A young, angry woman had turned and pushed past those of us on the line at the pharmacy counter and the pharmacist had shaken her head, her expression one of annoyance.

"She was certainly in a hurry," I muttered conversationally.

"She's a bitch, is what she is."

I must have looked askance, because the lady pharamcist colored, and shrugged.

"She's the girlfriend of that mechanic, the handsome young guy from Mackeys?"

I held up my hands, ignorant of what she was talking about.

"He was in a car accident a few months back. He's paralyzed. In a wheelchair. The other driver was drunk and some congressman's son so he got off, but the poor guy's never going to walk again."

"I guess his girlfriend's not taking it well?"

"I heard her in the beauty parlor the other day bitching that she's expected to take care of him and she doesn't even get sex anymore."

I gasped, because it was simply that harsh a thought. That all the woman would be thinking of is her own gratification after her lover had lost the use of his legs.

The very next day I was at the hospital visiting my aunt Clara who had had yet another mini-stroke, and when I was directed to the physical therapy department where she was getting treated, I literally tripped over the man in question.

He was crying. Tears were still wet on his cheeks and I wanted to wrap my arms around him right then and there.

Behind him, out of the elevator, came the snippy bitch. Her face was red, and her mouth set in the thin line that says she's angry and not in the mood for anything.

Oblivious to me, she leaned over and hissed at him.

"You're useless, Brett, and I'm not gonna be tied to some guy in a chair who can't even get it up."

The shocking cruelty of her statement stunned me, and Brett stopped, mortified, and writhing in impotent rage. He watched as she stalked away down the hall and then swiped a swarthy, rough hand across his cheek.

"Sorry," he muttered and turned to head down the hallway.

On impulse I stepped in front of him.

"I'm Mary. I'm visiting my aunt but she's in therapy at the moment. Would you like to have lunch?"

"Pity for a crip?"

"Oh, fuck you." I was smiling as I said it to make sure he knew I was kidding, but then I realized the import of my expression. I blushed.

"As you probably heard, that's not likely."

"Look, I'm not the one to get pity from, Brett...?"

"Brett Holmes. You're Mary Stewart. '98 Nissan Sentra."

"You remembered?"

"I never forget a car. Or a well-stacked woman."

His comment might have been crude, but given the situation I decided to overlook it. Besides, it had been a long time since anyone had noticed.

"So, about lunch?"

"Why eat with me?"

"Why not? Are you contagious? Do you chew with your mouth open?" I grinned, cocked a hip, and watched his gaze roam over my body. I'm the stacked, old-fashioned type of girl. I fill a bra and I'm proud of it.

"OK. If you pay. I haven't got pockets on these things." He picked at the sweats he was wearing and I nodded with a smile.

That was six months ago. Right about the time he stopped his initial rounds of physical therapy he went back to work at the garage. He can't get under cars anymore, but the owner of the shop was happy to have his keen eye and his amazing ability with engines back. He directs folks and his specially-constructed chair can sit him up higher when he needs it. I spotted him while I was on the way to work one day and I pulled in to say hi. In the end I asked him out and after he wiped the look of surprise off his face he said yes.

He picked me up in his specially fitted truck and we've been together ever since.

I kneeled at my lover's feet and noted that this was going to be one of our good days. His cock was swelling and I grinned up at him before I leaned over and pulled him into my mouth.

His sigh was all the reward I needed.