Sultry Passions, Sinful Desires Part 11

Inventive Couple's Hints.

I've never had straight s.e.x that was as good as it was in the days when I used to f.u.c.k my girlfriend Iris on the little daybed under the eaves of her tiny attic apartment.

Iris would lie back on the little bed, and I would kneel to approach her. The entrance to her v.a.g.i.n.a would be about two inches too high for me to thread my c.o.c.k straight in. So I would grasp the edge of the mattress to the left and the right of her hips and use my body weight to bear down until we were aligned. Then I would aim my c.o.c.k up and into her sweet threshold.

At this angle, the pressure of the mattress from underneath would direct my shaft up firmly against the forward surface of her love ca.n.a.l. I'd put the heel of my palm on her mound of Venus, and with my thumb I'd gently retract the nun's hood from around her c.l.i.toris.

This arrangement left her upraised legs unsupported, except when she occasionally clutched my forearms with her calves. So when we planned long sessions, as we often did, we would put a chair on each side of me for her to rest her legs on.

From this position, I could move inside her with long and lingering strokes. We discovered that, at this angle, the pressure was such that it could revive my erection quite promptly if I stayed firmly inside after coming. In there, I could feel her heartbeats, and that sensation alone would bring me around quickly. On one long and lazy memorable Sunday afternoon, I jetted hot juices into her three times in a row without withdrawing.

I highly recommend this position for protracted lovemaking. It is particularly good if one's lady is, like Iris, rather shrouded in the c.l.i.toral department, and she doesn't get going well in any other postures.

Iris confided in me that she thought she had the symptoms of a cla.s.sic nymphomaniac. Before we devised this position, she had very rarely come during intercourse, so she felt she never could get quite enough. This, she thought, was what made her a vivacious c.o.c.ksucker. She really was very good at it.

She confessed to me that she had practiced f.e.l.l.a.t.i.o at every opportunity and in every way that she could think of. Thanks to this resourcefulness, she had probed the limits of her gag reflex and had succeeded in getting it under excellent control. My p.e.n.i.s is average, about six and a half or seven inches fully extended, and she could drink me in absolutely to the root.

It was a sublimely ecstatic shock to see the whole thing disappear in there the first time, and she was the first lady I ever shot into while fully implanted. That first time, I'm sure that I gushed enough to top up a whiskey jigger, in a long, frenetically pulsing jolt. But she swallowed it all with perfect tranquility. Call it mind over matter.

It was always a toss-up whether I would rather f.u.c.k her on the daybed in the manner I described or receive a b.l.o.w.j.o.b, which seemed a little selfish, though enticing. We had a system that worked out nicely for a while. When we were at home, we'd f.u.c.k, at least for a finish. When we felt the urgency out in public and didn't want to make a lot of fuss or leave telltale dribbles, she would give me a b.l.o.w.j.o.b.

When we went the b.l.o.w.j.o.b route, of course, I was the only one who got off. But when we used our special f.u.c.king position, she always had more than one o.r.g.a.s.m-sometimes as many as ten to my three. So it all balanced out rather effectively.

Previous to our encounters, Iris said she had preferred rear entry with no direct c.l.i.toral involvement at all. She found this position at least mildly fulfilling rather than sort of frustrating. While using it, once in a while she attained climax from the deep penetration that it provides. We occasionally went at it this way for old times' sake, recalling our first encounter. But ultimately her laid-back posture proved much more satisfying for her.

Perhaps if other couples give our special position a try, they may be able to increase their mutual satisfaction as much as Iris and I did!

-V.N., East Rutherford, New Jersey.

A Corporate Merger.

All my life I've considered myself an extremely s.e.xual person-six years ago, I won Best Chest in a bikini contest-but after having a baby and dating a string of boyfriends who left me unsatisfied in bed, I found myself no longer comfortable with my body. But I'm happy that now I've got a new man in my life who's really helped me get back in touch with my s.e.xuality. I think the story of how we became involved would really turn on Forum readers.

I had been on a job interview, and on my way out I saw the next interviewee. He looked like "stiff compet.i.tion," but I had no idea that I could ever take that cliche literally. As it turns out, Joseph got the job, but I was hired to be his a.s.sistant. I found my new boss attractive the first time I laid eyes on him. He's tall, handsome, and a sharp dresser; the word debonair could easily be used to describe him.

The first time we discussed work I was impressed by the confidence, intelligence, and strength he radiated. Our work relations.h.i.+p developed into a successful, strong, and open one; we have a similar sense of humor and as a management team, we do a great job. I quickly found myself also admiring his brown eyes and long, flirtatious eyelashes. We would be engrossed in work and suddenly I would be wondering how good he was in bed. Whenever I had s.e.x with my inexperienced, now former boyfriend, I would imagine that I was with Joseph. I wanted him so badly I worried I would say his name instead of my boyfriend's when we were together.

Although I tried to focus on my work, I found myself more and more concerned with what I wore to the office. While trying to look as professional as possible, I started choosing form-fitting tops and outfits that would accentuate my hourgla.s.s shape. Thong panties and push-up bras became common undergarments. Soon enough I began to notice Joseph watching me. I started to lean over the desk to give him the opportunity to look down my blouse, and I would bend over when I knew he would see my a.s.s. The new management team was really beginning to warm up.

One night when our coworkers were gone and we had the building to ourselves, we started a special executive session, but I had no idea it would end up the way it did. I couldn't ignore the growing attraction between us any longer and finally suggested that he kiss me. He looked me straight in the eyes and kissed me softly and slowly, full on the lips. My heart started to pound and my entire body tingled as he held me against his broad, muscular chest.

I was aching for him to touch my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, so I guided his hand to the hard nipple poking through my thin cotton blouse. His thumb gently stroked the stiff nub under my s.h.i.+rt before his hands held me completely. It felt great being with someone who was enjoying my t.i.ts. I guess the window shopping had gone on long enough. He was ready to sample the merchandise, and so was I.

He had my jacket off and bra undone so I could feel his hand directly on the skin of my breast. We continued to stand close, kissing and grinding against each other. Finally I said, "I'd f.u.c.k you right here, but I don't know where we could do it." Not expecting him to take me seriously, I was pleased when he led me to the conference room, drew the blinds, and began to kiss me again.

I moved to shut the door, but he said, "No, I want to be able to hear if someone comes." We were already going to be naughty, but somehow leaving the door open turned me on even more.

I had been grinding my c.u.n.t against his bulge for long enough. Now it was time to see what his c.o.c.k was really like. I unbuckled his belt. Watching his pants fall away made me want him even more. Soon I realized how wet I was; I felt as if an oil factory had spilled between my legs. I slipped my hand down his boxers and found that his c.o.c.k was already rock-hard. A sticky sweet drop of come had formed on the tip, and I rubbed it around the head. Feeling that come made me want to take him in my mouth.

I finally told him I wanted to suck his c.o.c.k. I pulled a chair up to him, leaned forward, and took him in my mouth. I needed a better angle, so I pushed the chair back without taking my mouth off his delicious sausage. I dropped to my knees in front of him, where I had plenty of room to move and do what I wanted.

I felt his c.o.c.k press against the back of my throat. I swallowed and sucked, taking his entire shaft at once. I could feel his d.i.c.k getting harder as I slid my mouth softly up and down, and then went back to sucking hard on the whole thing. I ran my tongue over the head and tasted what leaked out. I only stopped sucking long enough to run my tongue along the shaft and around the head of his hard, full c.o.c.k.

Then he decided to check out what a.s.sets I brought to the team. He reached down and undid my pants. My jeans and panties slid easily down over my hips. He went right for my c.l.i.t; this was exciting since my last few lovers had no idea about rubbing a woman's throb-k.n.o.b. I got even wetter as my c.l.i.t became hard and he pulled my lips open.

I said, "Slide your finger inside of me." He parted my soaked p.u.s.s.y lips and touched that velvety soft spot before entering my tunnel. I could hardly catch my breath, it felt so good. His hand brought the wet juices all around my playground. As I was bucking my hips to get my c.u.n.t all over his hand, my nipples hardened and I knew I could come just from his touch. Being a woman, you don't ever have to hold back an o.r.g.a.s.m. It had been quite a while since I'd felt one, so I probably couldn't have held myself back if I wanted to.

I pressed myself down on the hand that was stroking me so well and I started to feel an o.r.g.a.s.m coming over me. All my blood seemed to pool toward my c.u.n.t. I pushed my hips slowly and forcefully to ride the feeling out. Then he started me up again by taking his come-soaked finger and placing it on my lips. He kissed me so we could both taste the sweet nectar his fingers drew out of me.

His c.o.c.k wanted more action after being in my mouth and getting sucked so much. He pushed me back so I was t.i.ts-up on the conference room table with my c.u.n.t and a.s.s hanging over the edge. The cold hard table was a turn-on. He tried to place my jacket under my head but I pushed it away. I grabbed his hips so he could get that big submarine submerged in my wet pink depths as soon as possible. I brought my knees up and he held them under his arms as he stood at the head of the table.

Joseph positioned himself in front of me and deliberately put the tip of his tool on the edge of my sweetness. The o.r.g.a.s.m that I'd had helped him slide into a perfect combination of tightness and wetness. I arched my back and moaned with pleasure. He slid in and out, enjoying every stroke. I had my hands up above my head and my body squirmed with l.u.s.t. He held me by my hips and the tops of my thighs so his thrusting wouldn't slide me up on the table.

The pace started to quicken, and the only thing on my mind was how great he felt inside of me. He was standing and f.u.c.king me, totally in charge. I was lying there soaking it all up, completely absorbed in the feeling of getting a good f.u.c.k. Soon I was at the brink of another o.r.g.a.s.m. Joseph gave my p.u.s.s.y a few more thrusts and rubbed my c.l.i.t again. I couldn't come fast enough. My whole body pulsed with pleasure. My heart raced and the fluid broke loose in my c.u.n.t. My nipples ached and my whole body filled with adrenaline.

He kept f.u.c.king me but slowed down a bit, knowing I'd just had another o.r.g.a.s.m. He gave me a minute and then asked me to turn onto my stomach. As he guided me around I nearly fell over. I was light-headed and weak in the knees from my second o.r.g.a.s.m. The table was firm under my large b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and the cool top felt good on my hot nipples. I was bent over the edge so I was supported in place as he entered me from behind.

This woman likes to f.u.c.k doggie-style and I think he could tell. I pressed myself against the tabletop and for a moment thought about its being used for a business meeting. No one would know I had been lying down on top of it enjoying a man who knew how to use his c.o.c.k. He took my waist, right above my hips, and moved his big hard c.o.c.k in and out. From feeling the angle of his body I knew he was watching his c.o.c.k go inside of me. It turned me on more knowing that he was seeing himself sink into the pink flesh between my legs.

He said, "You have a nice a.s.s," as he started to rub his hands over the round part of my b.u.t.t. Knowing that he appreciated my body turned up the heat for me even more. I took a firmer hold on the sides of the table and pushed my a.s.s up to meet his thrusts. I was moaning again and couldn't keep myself quiet. My heart was racing and I felt the beginning of o.r.g.a.s.m number three starting to take over. As it built in me he picked up the pace and began thumping me from behind. His nuts were getting in on the action as they bounced off my sweaty bush and wet lips.

The juicy sounds of hot s.e.x filled the conference room. We moved with awesome action and finally I lost control and experienced another o.r.g.a.s.m. I knew by the way his c.o.c.k was pumping and throbbing inside of me that he was coming, too. Joseph and I started to come down from our o.r.g.a.s.ms at the same time. We were both breathing heavily. After a moment he stepped back. I just laughed because I had enjoyed myself so much. We cleaned the big come stain off the floor and wiped off the table.

This man is one great f.u.c.k. We did it again twice in the office today: Once I was bent over straight in front of him with my hands on my ankles. I missed sucking him so I did that later while he sat in his office. He liked the headjob so much, he facef.u.c.ked me while I was under the desk. Maybe I'll save that for another letter.

-Name and address withheld.

Love Thy Neighbor.

I'm a thirty-three-year-old, ninety-eight-pound woman with light-brown hair and dark-brown eyes. About a year ago, I moved into a new apartment, downstairs from a man whom I wanted from the first time I saw him. He's forty-four years old, has semilong blond hair with a little gray (which I think is s.e.xy), blue eyes, and a s.e.xy a.s.s.

I'm a very shy person, and we would have never met if he hadn't said h.e.l.lo first. Pretty soon he started coming down to my place. He taught me to play a dice game called 10,000; we played it a couple of times a week, always until the wee hours of the morning. At about nine o'clock one night, he came down while I was nursing a sunburn I had gotten after falling asleep sunbathing in my yard. I was putting on some lotion, but there were some places that I still needed help in reaching. He offered to do them for me, and I couldn't say no to him.

This was the moment I had fantasized about. I loosened my Hawaiian wrap, which was the only thing I had on, then I got down on my stomach so he could rub the lotion on my back. He started at the top of my shoulders and worked his way down to my burned little a.s.s. I lay still with my eyes closed, enjoying every moment of it and hoping that he wouldn't stop there. I heard him squeeze some more lotion out of the bottle and onto the small of my back. I could feel the cold, thick lotion dripping down my b.u.t.t crack. He rubbed it in gently, then spread my legs apart with his hands, exposing my hot, juicy p.u.s.s.y. I'd read about things like this happening to other people, but I never thought it could happen to me!

Then he asked me to turn over and said he would rub down my front side, if I would like him to. Of course I wanted him to do that for me! He was so good I had to let him finish the job, so I happily rolled over onto my back. His hands rubbed the cool lotion across my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, down my stomach, and over my c.u.n.t, sending chills of excitement up my spine. I couldn't hide how wet and turned on he made me anymore. He must have noticed, because he leaned forward and gave me a long, soft kiss, at the same time slipping two fingers slowly in and out of my sopping-wet p.u.s.s.y.

My nipples were as hard as two pebbles in an ice-cold stream. He squeezed them between his lips, making me hotter with every touch before licking his way to my navel. Somehow he knew where my sensitive spots were. He seemed to enjoy watching me squirm with every nibble he took. My leg brushed up against the large c.o.c.k in his pants; woodrow was standing tall and hard, saluting me. That made me want him even more. I could feel my p.u.s.s.y throbbing, and I wanted to feel his c.o.c.k inside me so badly.

He worked his way down to my p.u.s.s.y until he was licking and sucking my c.l.i.toris. I didn't want him to ever stop. With his tongue probing my v.a.g.i.n.a, I could feel I was about to come. It felt so good I couldn't handle it anymore. He kept on eating my p.u.s.s.y and I couldn't stop myself from coming. I started to moan, then scream. Oh, my G.o.d, I could feel my whole body quivering! He came back up and kissed my mouth. I could taste my sweet juices on his lips. I whispered to him in a soft voice, "Lie down. Now it's your turn."

I unb.u.t.toned his pants, took his c.o.c.k in my hands, and started licking around the head, inching my way down the shaft and taking in as much as possible. I sucked him long and hard, savoring the whole thing and stopping just long enough to suck his b.a.l.l.s, taking one at a time in my mouth and rolling them around with my tongue. Then I returned to my everlasting sucker.

He told me he was about to come, so I stopped before he shot his load. He sat up and I wrapped my legs around him, slowly putting his c.o.c.k into my p.u.s.s.y. I rode him like he was a wild stallion for as long as I could. I felt another o.r.g.a.s.m coming and just couldn't hold back. I started screaming. His woodrow kept thrusting and I came again and again. I practically lost count of how many times I came. I thought to myself, This man is my own "s.e.x machine."

I lay there in his arms for a few moments and then looked at the clock and saw that he was going to be late for work. I couldn't believe it! We had f.u.c.ked the whole night away!

The two of us get together quite often now. And the s.e.x just keeps getting better and better.

-S.H., Sausalito, California.

Moving Violation.

A few months ago I was on my way back from the Great Northwest. I had gone there to help my sister move to a new house, and after she was settled in I decided to stop off to see an old friend in Oregon. We had been lovers many years ago before he relocated to Oregon, but we had stayed in touch through divorces, job changes, and life's other little ups and downs.

My husband, who is very s.e.xually liberated, knew my plans and had no problems with my visit. In fact, he encouraged me to enjoy myself. Which I did.

Larry picked me up at the car rental desk, and we spent the drive to his home in a beautiful seaside village catching up on old times. After we arrived, I unpacked and then we relaxed over a few c.o.c.ktails, more conversation, and some great music. Then we left for dinner, drinks, and a trip to see his boat at the marina. Our brief tour ended up on the couch in the aft section, where the petting became serious. It wasn't long before I removed my top so that my 34C t.i.ts could be fully appreciated by his eyes, hands, and lips. He begged me to remove my skintight Levi's, too, but until I had to excuse myself and use the bathroom, I decided not to comply.

The attention he paid to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s made my p.u.s.s.y wet and got me so excited I had to relieve myself. When I pulled down my pants to pee I decided to just leave them on the bathroom floor. I walked back into the living quarters totally nude to find the most surprised and pleased man you could imagine. His praise for my action and my great body was interrupted when I walked over and asked him to suck on my t.i.ts some more. He put his hands around my waist and licked and nibbled and played with my t.i.ts until my t.w.a.t was just creaming. His sucking sent bolts of pleasure down to my p.u.s.s.y. When he finally slid his hands down to play with my c.l.i.t, he found out just how wet I was.

He pushed me back on a padded seat and stood while I lay on my back without a st.i.tch of clothing, playing with my t.i.ts and p.u.s.s.y. He again showed my c.l.i.t the attention it needed by using his hands. As I leaned back, arching my hips and closing my eyes, I heard the familiar sound of a zipper opening. When I felt his smooth c.o.c.khead rubbing against my p.u.s.s.y, I looked down at the largest d.i.c.k I'd ever seen poised to be thrust into my waiting hole. He filled me slowly but completely with his great c.o.c.k and continued to pump my p.u.s.s.y for a very long time. He grabbed my ankles with his hands and spread my legs apart to provide easier access to my c.u.n.t.

He f.u.c.ked me through my moans and screams and constant requests for more c.o.c.k, harder and deeper. It seemed he was f.u.c.king me longer than I'd ever been f.u.c.ked before. He told me he was about to come, and did he ever! He filled up my c.u.n.t with bursts of hot, sticky, wonderful s.p.u.n.k while he told me how beautiful I looked and what a great f.u.c.k I was.

That was just the start of a weekend filled with the wonderful sights and sounds of f.u.c.king, sucking, and coming.

-T.L., San Diego, California.

And All That j.i.z.z.

I'm a twenty-one-year-old black woman with a huge appet.i.te for adventurous s.e.x, and I thought it would be nice to share one of my favorite escapades with my fellow Forum readers.

My boyfriend Ronnie and I were riding along a deserted country road when the low, gray sky seemed to start closing in on us. We rolled down the car windows just enough to smell the heavy rain-scented air.

Ronnie's hands were on the steering wheel and he looked straight ahead, peering through the raindrops gathering on the winds.h.i.+eld. I reached down and tuned the radio to a soft jazz station. That music always puts me in a playful mood. Just when Ronnie clicked the winds.h.i.+eld wipers on, I kicked off my heels and hiked my miniskirt up to my hips. Ronnie looked over and immediately saw that I wasn't wearing any panties. All he saw was the curly black bush surrounding my cocoa-brown c.l.i.t.

He slowed the car down a little and watched me finger my fat p.u.s.s.y with one hand and twist my olive-colored nipples with the other. Then I turned around to face him so he could see my sloppy-wet p.u.s.s.y and firm, juicy t.i.ts. I threw my left leg up onto the seat so Ronnie could get a better view of me masturbating. I was moaning and breathing heavily as my middle and index fingers slid in and out of my wet, hungry c.u.n.t hole.

Ronnie briefly glanced at the road, then he looked back at me. In that time, I pulled an eight-inch d.i.l.d.o out of my purse. As he watched, I pushed the toy deep into my slippery c.u.n.t, sending beautiful chills all throughout my body. Ronnie's mouth was wide open because he was genuinely shocked at my behavior. He had never seen me act that way before, but I could tell that he loved every bit of it!

The s.l.u.tty little show I was putting on made his big d.i.c.k strain against the front of his Dockers. He told me that his b.a.l.l.s were aching to be drained, so we had to find a place to park-and fast. Suddenly we spotted an old warehouse a couple of dozen yards down the road. We approached it with caution and antic.i.p.ation. "Hurry! I need your big black d.i.c.k now!" I said to him. His response to this was to step on the gas and get us to our honeycomb hideout.

I was still f.u.c.king myself wildly when he got out of the car, came around to my side, and opened the door. He stepped out of his pants and pushed his hard d.i.c.k into my mouth, stuffing the head of it all the way to the back of my throat. I gulped every inch and still wanted more. I sucked him, ma.s.saged his b.a.l.l.s, then sucked him and ma.s.saged his b.a.l.l.s some more. There was a stream of saliva running down to my waist. d.a.m.n, I was h.o.r.n.y! I needed more!

Ronnie s.n.a.t.c.hed me out of the car and bent me over the cold hood, exposing my bare a.s.s. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s were tingling in the moist, chilly air. He positioned himself behind me and shoved the d.i.l.d.o into my b.u.t.t. I yelled out in pleasure as he f.u.c.ked my once-virgin a.s.shole. Until then, I'd never had anything more than a tongue in my a.s.s.

Once I relaxed and opened up, my gasps turned into moans of ecstasy. Still holding the d.i.l.d.o in my a.s.s, Ronnie grabbed his big, hard d.i.c.k and stuck it into my gaping p.u.s.s.y. Oh, my G.o.d! I'd never had both my holes filled at once. I absolutely loved the new experience!

I started to scream, "f.u.c.k me, Ronnie! f.u.c.k me hard!" while he rocked my holes like a madman. I begged Ronnie to shoot his load in my a.s.s, but I came before I could even get the words out, sending trails of p.u.s.s.y juice down my thighs. Moments later, he pulled his c.o.c.k out of my p.u.s.s.y and followed with an explosive o.r.g.a.s.m of his own.

I turned around just in time to catch his tasty nectar in my mouth. I ate his sweet treat and swallowed it in one delightful gulp. I looked up into his sleepy eyes as I gently squeezed the rest of the come out of his b.a.l.l.s. I wanted it all! A smile spread across my plump, luscious lips as I smeared the rest of his come over my face and lips. Then I thanked Ronnie for the new adventure.

On our way home, I clicked the radio on again. Guess what was playing? Soft jazz! I looked over at him, and he looked over at me. Ronnie s.h.i.+fted uneasily in his seat and said, "No, Sondra, baby! Not again!"

-S.R., Lawrence, Kansas.

Paint Misbehaving.

I'm thirty-five years old and have been a painter since I was twelve. Unfortunately-unfortunately for my eyes, I mean-I live in a college town. There's an art school here where the kids learn less than I've forgotten. But at least each new semester provides us h.o.r.n.y old men with an influx of fresh flesh.

Leslie is a gorgeous blonde thing, eighteen years old and putting herself through school. She isn't a waif, like so many art school girls are. She's got some meat on her, just the way I like 'em. She has that healthy country-girl look and, even though she dyes her hair a little-it's really long and has red streaks das.h.i.+ng through it-her flesh isn't covered in tattoos. I hate that s.h.i.+t, especially on young girls. It makes them look like they're all used up.

One day I stopped by the gallery where Leslie works. It's a photography gallery, even though Leslie's a painter like me, but it's a nice job in a nice setup.

"When are you coming around my studio again, Les?" I asked.

"Have you finished any new stuff?" she asked, like she knew I only wanted to get inside her pants. The second girls figure that out, they start to give you indecisive answers.

"I'm working on a few pieces for three, maybe four shows. They're all scheduled for next year."

"No s.h.i.+t," Leslie said. Then she beamed at me again. "That is, like, so cool."