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Authors: Lucy Felthouse,Sommer Marsden,John McKeown,Marlene Yong,Abigail Thornton

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BOOK: Deliberate Display - five erotic voyeur and exhibitionist stories
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I parted my legs and stuck my bum out, presenting myself to Callum. He undid my bra, exposing my tits to his wife. She pushed in closer, crouching slightly to squash her soft boobs against mine. The blunt heat of Callum’s cock moved between my legs, searching for my opening.

‘You’re about to become the first woman I’ve let my husband fuck.’ She emphasised “husband” and the word made me gasp just before Callum’s cock, now condom-clad, found the mouth of my vagina and pushed.

It surged into me, the force of his thrust lifting both of my feet off the ground. He caught my weight and held me up. The power of the man was shocking and he held me aloft as he thrust into me; fierce, primal thrusts which quickly satisfied my need.

Callum supported me with my legs bent at the knee and spread wide, first in front of Ruth and then the window. It was a wanton display which I found embarrassingly pornographic. Then I realised what he was doing – the open curtains, the lights – he was showing me to the audience. Like a trophy.

I was horrified. I knew that people could see and that there were most likely eyes and possibly cameras watching, watching the cock driving into me over and over. But I was also excited. Relief came only as Ruth’s naked body stepped in front of me. My legs wrapped around her waist and pulled her in against me to hide my most intimate flesh.

‘Ahh, every inch of you is beautiful,’ Ruth sighed approvingly as her hands ran over my body. I couldn’t help but imagine that the cock thrusting so urgently into my pussy was somehow hers. My body melted with the power of the fantasy.

‘Oh Ruth!’ I sighed, tightening the grip of my thighs, relishing the soft warmth of her body, enjoying the proximity of her pussy to mine. There was an elemental power radiating through every touch, every caress. The hot, hairy authority suspending me, holding me aloft, pressing into me from behind; the vision of female loveliness trapped between my legs. Ruth’s hand dropped down and did wonderful things to my clit. Her thumb started to draw forth urges and sensations that I hadn’t known I was capable of; husband and wife, working together to pleasure me … in full view of everyone.

Perhaps it was the shock of having an audience which kept my orgasm at bay for so long – for I have never known such perfect stimulation. It was like Ruth was inside my head, reading my need to go faster or harder, before backing off and starting the cycle over again. She had total control over me, which was both alarming and very, very exciting.

‘I’m going to make you come,’ Ruth said at last, looking me in the eye. The way she said it, like a statement in a court of law, made the pressure drop in my belly as my adrenaline surged. The knowledge that she was going to relieve my aching need and give me ultimate pleasure in itself made me shudder.

Hot tension rose to fever pitch as the rigid length of Callum’s cock buried itself inside my pussy while his wife intensified the perfect stimulation of my swollen clit. I resisted for as long as I dared, but in the end I dropped my weight onto Ruth’s fingers, simultaneously impaling myself more deeply on her husband’s cock.

Callum breathed heavily in my ear and groaned with his own release. Despite the condom I actually felt a hot burst inside my vagina and the need to orgasm became overwhelming. Muscles tightened into agonising knots before releasing in a glorious symphony of utter relief.

I’m normally very controlled, even at the height of orgasm, but as though playing to my audience, I let go with a torrent of filthy exclamations and uncontrolled moans. It was the most complete release of my life … and yet I wanted more.

Callum’s deflating cock was still moving inside me, although the reduction in size and my wetness meant my pussy was making outrageous slurping noises – slurping noises which attracted Ruth’s mouth. She licked and sucked at the juices long after the heat of my orgasm had dispersed and stopped only as Callum let out a shaky breath and dropped me softly back onto my feet before tumbling theatrically onto the couch.

‘My turn,’ Ruth sighed, ‘and since my husband doesn’t look up to the job …’ Callum grinned as she turned and knelt over the sofa, giving me a perfect view of her powerful back, bum and legs. I had an urge to explore all of it, from her shoulder blades, down the fluted hollow of her spine and over the intriguing landscape of her bum.

Every part of her was smooth and sexy as my lips worked their way down. I knew what I wanted to do and hoped that she’d let me.

Arriving at Ruth’s bum, I kissed my way across her flesh slowly and sensuously. I could see my target at the interface of her bum cheeks: her beautiful arsehole. I marvelled at it – a vertical crease surrounded by a fan of inviting crinkles. How had she taken a cock in that tiny non-hole? Despite my recent orgasm, a tingle of sexual heat was building. My body shivered with extreme excitement as I kissed and licked my way into Ruth’s anal cleft and lapped at the source of my obsession.

‘Ooh fuck!’ Ruth gasped, as I hardened my tongue into a nub and ground it into her bumhole and brought my thumb up between her legs. I started rubbing her clitoris just as she had rubbed mine. Ruth’s knees came apart, which had the effect of opening up her bum crack; she was encouraging me deeper, inviting me into the most taboo region of her body. I obliged.

The gap was sufficient to accommodate my chin and I was able to push forward, pressing my lips and tongue against Ruth’s anus. I could feel her body responding, the muscles tightening already. My thumb rubbed the bottom of her wet slit, circling her clitoris over and over. Ruth’s hips rolled from side to side, and I heard gasps and groans escaping from the cushions.

The rhythm of her hips became more violent and I was forced to retreat but the distance did nothing to quench my anal desire. Ruth’s bumhole was shiny with my saliva and it gave me an idea – I licked my fingers and speared her with two of them, my index finger forcing its way into her arse, while my middle one simultaneously slipped into her pussy. The twin penetration looked stunning and the dance of Ruth’s hips became even more desperate. Then it stopped. Her hand gripped my wrist while her bum pushed back hard against my fingers, forcing a much deeper penetration. A second later I felt her muscles constricting, clenching as she orgasmed frantically.

Ruth disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me with her husband and his erection. I was horny and eager to fuck him again. Without waiting for Ruth’s permission, I moved up over him and guided his cock back into my pussy. It felt so good, slower this time, more relaxed – some of the sexual fires having burned themselves out.

Not for long. Ruth came back and smiled, nastily. ‘Naughty, naughty,’ she said. ‘Did I give you permission to fuck my husband again?’ I shook my head. ‘No, that’s right – I didn’t.’ And she spanked me. Not playfully; she did it again and again with hard stinging slaps. I didn’t know what to do, so I just crouched there and took it, until my bottom was glowing and the tears were running down my cheeks.

It hurt like hell but I enjoyed the punishment and felt a pang of regret when it stopped. ‘That’s enough,’ Ruth said sharply, her hand caressing my fiery buttocks. Cold gel coiled over my skin and she worked it in, providing delicious relief. Then her fingers drifted down between my buttocks. I knew what was going to happen and was thrilled.

That was how I orgasmed for the second time – with Ruth’s fingers deep in my burning bum while I ground my pussy on Callum’s cock.

As I was recovering, I felt Ruth’s breath tickling against my ear like a lover’s tongue. ‘I want to see my husband’s cock in your bum,’ she whispered, so softly that there was no way he could have heard.

I had thought that I couldn’t take any more but those words struck a chord with me. Suddenly, I was starting afresh, unbearably turned on. I didn’t reply but eased myself off Callum’s cock, slid forward an inch and dropped, feeling Ruth’s guiding hand between my punished buttocks. It was very slippery down there and my arse simply stretched open as I applied gentle pressure and weight.

I squealed as Callum gripped me around the hips, pulling down with his hands as he thrust upwards, perhaps not realising that his cock was now in my arse. Only as he sank fully into my bottom did a dirty thought occur to me. I pulled myself off Callum’s cock and positioned him so that as I mounted him in reverse-cowgirl, I could see my full frontal reflection in the window, knowing that I was also giving the best possible view to my audience, whether they be real or imaginary. I wondered whether there was a long-lensed camera pointing at the action between my legs. I hoped so.

Making sure to spread my legs as wide as possible, I sank back down on Callum’s shaft, feeding it back into my hungry arse. The view from the reflection was fantastic, like watching myself in a live porno on a huge television. Reaching down, I stretched my pussy lips open as my arse sucked longingly on Callum’s meat.

I imagined guys bringing themselves off while watching me through the window – energetically wanking as they fantasised about fucking me. I’d never felt so dirty, so wanton. ‘Fuck me … fuck me hard,’ I heard myself beg, and the pounding steadily increased until my whole body was incandescent with pain and pleasure.

Ruth was forgotten as I played with my clit, watching the reflection of myself being arse-fucked. My entire body started to tremble again and I came for the third time in an agonising explosion of ecstasy. I was spent and pulled Callum’s slippery cock free, skinned off the condom and wanked him until I was treated to the view and feel of his hot spunk spurting up my body. Considering what he’d been doing over the last few days I was impressed by the quantity of spunk that sprayed from his jerking cock. I was pleased with the visual effect as it started dribbling down the curve of my belly. Another dirty thought popped into my head as I rubbed the juices into my glistening skin. I looked out of the window, addressing my audience, before licking and sucking my fingers clean.

As I stood up, Ruth joined me. ‘Time to end the show,’ she said, with a smile. I didn’t even react to the admission that she knew all about the onlookers. ‘Grab a curtain.’

I took one of the heavy curtains and dragged it across, meeting Ruth in the middle. I wasn’t surprised that our display finished with a little flourish. Ruth kissed me; or rather we kissed, for I was a more than willing participant. The material met in the middle and we were done.

‘You knew,’ I said, ‘they were watching.’

‘They didn’t have to watch, but I was really hoping someone might.’

‘Someone did – I’ve seen the photos.’

‘Photos?’ Ruth’s eyes sparkled. ‘You’ve seen them? Are they good?’ The words tumbled out of her.

‘They’re –’ I paused, trying to think of the best way to describe them ‘– wonderful.’

‘There were three of them at it last night. Disgusting – that’s what it was.’ It was the morning after and I had been trying to find a way to sit comfortably on my throbbing bum when the same complaining couple had barged into my little office. I was desperately tired – but you have to take the consequences if you choose to stay up all night drinking champagne and shagging. I envied Ruth and Callum tucked up in bed, no doubt recharging for another round of debauchery. Not for the first time, I thought about using the master key to slip back into their suite – but duty called.

The woman paused, waiting for me to speak.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I said, what are you going to do about it?’

I muttered something about “ongoing investigations” and “doing everything we can”. She wasn’t happy but there was nothing further to say. I could hear her raging to the receptionist outside even as the husband lingered.

‘That was quite the show you put on last night,’ he said, meaningfully. ‘I’m surprised to find you sitting down,’ he added, cracking a smile.

‘I hoped you’d be watching. Did you take any –’ My pounding heart had already washed away my tiredness.

‘Photos?’ he interrupted, waggling a disc at me. ‘She’s not seen them,’ he said, inclining his head to the lobby, ‘but I thought you’d want a copy.’

‘That’s very thoughtful of you,’ I replied, taking the proffered disc with a smile.

‘Well, thank you for arranging yourself so … so indecently. I’ve attached my card, if you ever feel like posing professionally.’ I thought he was joking until I saw the photographic studio’s details on the card.

‘I’ll think about it,’ I said, smirking at the idea of getting naked again. I slipped the disc and the card into my pocket, making sure that the notepaper with Mr and Mrs Callum Martin’s home contact details was still in there too. It felt good to have one or two offers worth following up on for when I finally got home.

The Convent Girls’ Tale
by Marlene Yong

That afternoon, I met Vanessa in the restaurant of an expensive hotel in St John’s Wood. When she arrived, I noticed male heads turning – as always. I won’t say that Vanessa is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, but she’s certainly the most voluptuous and sexually magnetic. Beside her I, Dympna, look positively dowdy – which was why I only agreed to meet her in a discreet eatery, and then only once a month.

We go back a long way, Vanessa and myself. To a convent a few miles from Dublin, in fact. As two skinny but not unattractive teenagers, we both caught the eye of our fair share of boys, though things were all pretty innocent back then. But as we reached adulthood, she left me miles behind. I developed my own skills, though. I wasn’t bad-looking but I needed something to equalise the odds. And I discovered I had an extremely rewarding if unexpected talent. I could deliver one hell of a blowjob.

My tongue had always been exceptionally long and agile and I playfully experimented and practised in front of a mirror, twisting it into a variety of shapes, extending its length, even manipulating it to make wide circles in the air with the tip. When this began, it was just fun. I little realised how useful this aptitude would prove to be.

Our sexual adventures began at 18 when, after bedtime, we’d slip out into the convent garden and through a wicket gate in the wall, which the nuns believed was completely jammed shut and therefore safe. A couple of lads would meet us outside and we’d separate into pairs and drift into the shelter of some trees behind a low wall.

I kissed and necked with Brian a few times but one night he opened his mouth wide, forcing my lips apart. Next moment, I felt his tongue jab in between them. I was shocked but decided to play along and see what it was like. I slithered my own in and around his mouth, licking his palate and rotating my tongue round his. He pulled away looking at me strangely. ‘
Jaysus
, Dympna, where’d you learn to kiss like that?’ he gasped.

After that there was no stopping me. I suppose I was naïve; I was also infatuated. In my innocence, I let him lick my breasts and caress my hole with his fingers. I also grasped his thing while he jerked his arse backwards and forwards as if he was trying to make something happen. Nothing ever did and it was only when Vanessa told me afterwards that some kind of creamy juice was supposed to shoot out of the thing that I got some idea of what he’d been expecting.

Soon I was agreeing to whatever he asked me to do, except allowing him to stick his thing into me. And that was only because I’d had so many warnings from the nuns and the priest who came to the convent to hear confession.

I was, as I’ve said, still rather innocent then. But Brian kept complaining that me using my hand was not “sexy” enough. One day he said that surely I could use my marvellous tongue as he didn’t want me to get up the creek. At first I didn’t understand what he wanted me to do. When I finally caught on, I shouted, ‘You dirty scut!’ and ran back into the convent and refused to see him for weeks. Eventually I relented, though. And soon we were back to kissing and groping.

Then one night – it must have been a few days before my period, a time when I used to get all hot and feel funny, wanting something but I couldn’t tell what – he pushed me onto the low wall so that I was lying on my back with my skirt up and my knickers round about my ankles. I was about to protest that he mustn’t put his thing in me, but he bent down and began licking at my crack. Christ! I nearly screamed at the very pleasure of it.

He went on doing this for a while until I thought I was going to explode. ‘Will you do it for me too, Dympna?’ he urged. ‘I’ve had a wash. I’m entirely clean.’ And he shoved his prick into my mouth before I could change my mind. I was so excited by then that I set my tongue to work automatically. It wasn’t planned; it wasn’t even a conscious action. It just seemed … the thing to do.

It didn’t take long either. Within a minute my mouth filled with a salty cream and Brian’s body was shaking all over. ‘God, Dympna,’ he moaned. ‘I’ve never come off like that before.’

That was my first time. Over the next few years, especially after Vanessa and myself had come to England and found digs, I had plenty of time to develop my skills. Although I didn’t attract such dishy men as Vanessa, once I’d gone down on a guy he’d stick with me until I had to shake him off. One of them explained it to me. ‘Dympna, you give better head than any woman I’ve ever fucked. It’s the blowjob of a lifetime. A blowjob no man would ever forget.’

After a few weeks in London, Vanessa and myself went our separate ways. I knew I could never keep up with her. She was glamorous and sexy: stunning to look at when she dolled herself up. And she only screwed men with lots of readies who’d take her to places I could only dream of. I heard that when she strolled down the beach at Cannes or Juan Les Pins, men’s heads turned, eyes glazed and dozens of lustful studs fantasised about those stupendous boobs threatening to tumble out of her tiny halter top, her long legs that went up to velvet thighs, her rich auburn hair highlighting the curve of her neck. But above all it were those eyes – dark, brooding, inviting, teasing – that hypnotized every guy who came into contact with her.

Next to her I would have faded into the background.

Vanessa eventually married a man called Ed Marson, who’d made a packet in hedge funds and acquired a magnificent house in Amersham. It’s a massive Victorian barn of a place which Ed had gutted, then refurbished. They have an enormous lounge with a stone fireplace, a picture window overlooking the lawn and a huge, ornate mirror that covers most of the wall at the opposite end. A king-sized settee squatted facing the mirror.

Ed was in partnership with a Phil something-or-other and, during the occasional meetings I had with Vanessa, she rabbited on about how she fancied this Phil fella rotten. Phil, she told me, was six-three, a good-looking guy, rugged, with dark brown hair.

So that afternoon at a secluded corner table in the hotel restaurant, I sensed what she was about to tell me. Ultra- chic, as usual, she sauntered over and parked herself opposite me. Her eyes glittered and she spoke with repressed excitement. ‘Dympna,’ she began. ‘Remember what I was saying last time we met? About fancying Phil, Ed’s partner?’

I nodded eagerly. I knew what was coming. Vanessa loved relating her sexual encounters in explicit detail and in the raunchiest language. Sometimes I suspected she even wrote out and rehearsed a titillating script before recounting her adventures. She left little to the imagination: even just hearing her exploits made my breasts and groin tingle. We are all voyeurs – except for a few exhibitionists.

‘Well …’ she went on. ‘Last Tuesday I decided to do something about Phil. So I called into the office.’

She poured a cup of coffee from the pot a waiter had just brought and gulped some down. ‘Phil knew who I was, of course,’ she continued. ‘I pretended an interest in an investment he’d once suggested and invited him to come over to the house that evening to discuss it with Ed and myself. Even sitting facing him across his desk, I felt myself getting hot and horny. He really is a hunk, Dympna. Tall with a Roman nose, dark brown eyes and sooo masculine.’

For a second an enigmatic, almost sly, expression crinkled Vanessa’s eyes, then vanished.

‘I spent the rest of the day imagining what his body would feel like pressed against mine. Before he arrived I dressed … um … suitably.’ Vanessa gazed into the distance in happy recollection. She loved reminiscing about her salacious preparations for a seduction.

‘I wore a skirt so short Phil would glimpse my pubes pressed up against my tights – skin-coloured and no knickers, of course. I also left the top buttons on my blouse undone. Beneath it a push-up half-bra. I tell you, Dympna, just dressing up like that was enough to make me throb all over.

‘By the time Phil arrived, I was churning inside. Thinking about what was going to happen got me all hot and bothered, but … well, he is Ed’s partner after all.’

I said nothing, allowing her to continue.

‘Once I saw him standing on the doorstep, though, it was too late. There was no going back. I sat him on the settee while I mixed drinks and told him that Ed had been delayed and wouldn’t be home for hours. I went on to drop hints about “problems” between myself and Ed, implying that he wasn’t seeing to my needs as often as I wanted, didn’t rise to the occasion when required, always kept to the same routine, and so on. I could see Phil was getting horny but he wasn’t nibbling.

‘So I sat down close to him on the settee and asked him about the investment he’d mentioned weeks before. I wasn’t really listening to what he said. The scent of his aftershave was sending little sparks through my cunt and made me all sweaty and wet. I deliberately allowed my skirt to slide up, giving him a bird’s eye view of my crotch each time I crossed and uncrossed my legs.

‘I could tell Phil was still hesitant about fucking me – I am his partner’s wife, after all – so I rested my hand on his leg and slid it up and down his thigh. Each time the backs of my fingers grazed his thing, I felt it jump up – it was like a puppy after a bone! I was so randy my nipples were positively smouldering and I had to struggle to control my breathing.’

Before continuing, Vanessa topped up the coffee in her cup and emptied half of it down her throat. In my mind’s eye, I could see every detail of the scene she was describing, Masked by the restaurant table, I had located the “V” of my mons through my skirt and was pressing my fingers hard against the mound, relishing the sensations that radiated through my vaginal channel.

‘At last,’ Vanessa went on, ‘Phil seemed to work up the courage and placed his hand on my leg. He gradually copied my movements until his knuckles were kneading my pubes. God, I was so moist. It was … it was like the first time a lad touches you down there. Then, all of a sudden, he turned and looked right at me with those deep, piercing eyes. I swear, Dympna, by then my knickers were soaking! My hands were shaking as I scrabbled for his cock through his trousers. I-I tore his zip down and grabbed his cock. His hard cock.’

In the excitement of her recollection, Vanessa slopped coffee over the rim of her cup. I could see sweat on her forehead. She licked her lips. Telling me about her experience was titillating her. It was doing the same to me too, particularly as I knew that Vanessa was holding something back. A familiar languor crept over me. I realised that I was rubbing my thighs together and my own panties were rapidly growing moist.

A question occurred to me. ‘Weren’t you worried that Ed would return at any moment?’ Even though I knew the answer, I was taken by surprise when Vanessa shrugged the suggestion off with a sharp ‘No!’

‘Phil,’ she went on, ‘tried to get his fingers into me by tearing open the crotch of my tights. But somehow he couldn’t manage it. Eventually, he grabbed the waistband and ripped them down. Christ, was I wide! If he’d tried, he could have practically got his hand in. I believe I could actually feel my clit swell and harden. I wanted him. Oh, Dympna, you can’t imagine how much I longed to have him inside me at that moment.’

Vanessa paused to savour the memory then carried on. ‘Anyways, I lifted one foot onto the settee and spread my legs as wide as possible. I looked at that big mirror on the wall, saw the reflection of my pussy in it. The lips were curled back and the inside looked so pink … so glossy.’

Unexpectedly, she fell silent, but I knew she was concealing something from me and was considering whether to tell me or not. And that knowledge added a powerful frisson to the fluttering in my own quim produced by my busy fingers beneath the table top. ‘Go on,’ I urged as I spread myself surreptitiously. ‘You can’t just leave me in the air. Finish your story.’

‘Well …’ Vanessa resumed, ‘by now I hardly cared what I was doing. I levered Phil’s prick and balls out through the gap in his underpants. Then I stood up, turned my back to him, lifted the hem of my skirt and bent forward. This brought my arse level with his face. The muscles in my pussy were clenching and unclenching. Jesus, I could even feel the blood pulsing in my labia. I shouted, “Lick me. Hard!”

‘That was all the encouragement he needed, I can tell you! The settee is low enough that he only had to lean forward a couple of inches to run his tongue up and down my pussy lips. Seconds later I was wetter than ever, from his spittle and my own … well,
secretions
.’ She paused, recalling and relishing the moment.

‘Dympna, I nearly went ballistic! My legs shook, out of control; my tits swelled to bursting; my throat constricted. I was in paradise. Or something close to it anyway.

‘I lowered myself onto his erection – my legs were trembling – and lay back against him like a lap dancer. I caught another view of ourselves in the mirror. By arching my back, I could just make out his prick slithering in and out of my cunt, wet and glistening. I’d never felt so wanton in my life before. I wanted to do everything. And anything.

‘I made sure I caught Phil’s eye in the mirror, then unbuttoned my blouse to expose my half-bra. I held his gaze as I lifted out my boobs and licked my nipples. They tingled – no, more than that. It felt painful but delicious all at once. Like little arrows were shooting through them.

‘I felt his cock jerking and twitching inside me, knew he was about to come. Suddenly, a wild impulse came over me, Dympna. I did something so outrageous that it shocks me now just to think of it. I pulled myself off him, spun round and threw myself on my knees directly in front of his hard-on. There was something I’d always wanted to try.

‘I slid one hand beneath his balls and fingered my clit with the other. “
Bukkake
me,” I begged him, utterly shameless now. “What?” he panted. Seeing he didn’t understand I repeated it, slower this time. “
Bu-kka-ke.
” He looked confused. “Come on my face!” I yelled and tilted my head back. In that moment, he had such a shameless, lustful look on his face, I could have eaten him up.

‘His sperm rained down, splashing my cheeks, hair, eyes and my mouth – I felt most whorish of all when it splashed on my lips and tongue. I was trembling as I brought my hands up and smeared his spunk over my neck, ears, breasts. That’s when I started to come. I came so hard. You’ve no idea how powerful, how sexy, it felt, Dympna. You’d never believe it but minutes later, I was still coming, juices pouring from me.’

BOOK: Deliberate Display - five erotic voyeur and exhibitionist stories
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