The Mammoth Book of Women's Erotic Fantasies (48 page)

BOOK: The Mammoth Book of Women's Erotic Fantasies
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“What?” I gasped, momentarily stunned to learn that I was prey rather than predator. Then I shrugged my shoulders and kissed Laura, thanked her for ensnaring me like she had. You
don’t get to be a first-class manager without being a shrewd judge of character, I now knew.

“Okay, ladies,” Eric interjected. “Enough tell and kiss. How ‘bout we get down to business?”

“Good idea,” the sultry blonde capitalist agreed, and she provided Eric and me with directions such that I ended up flat on my back on her desk, Eric’s hard cock shoved
balls-deep into my sopping cunt. Laura climbed onto the desk with me, positioned her pussy over my face, and gripped my bare feet around the ankles and pulled them back so that she could play with
them while I ate her out and Eric banged my twat.

My head spun and my body tingled with the awesome eroticism of it all; with the sweet smell and tangy taste of Laura’s soaking wet cunny; with the clit-gratifying sensation of Eric sliding
his steely fuck-pole back and forth in my stretched-out, steaming pussy; and with the pure-heaven feeling of Laura’s slippery, darting tongue painting my small feet with her superheated
saliva.

“Fuck, she’s tight,” Eric groaned, as he slammed his engorged schlong in and out of my gripping snatch. He pummelled my pussy and pushed my legs forward as far as they’d
go, allowing Laura to shove her pink tongue in between my wriggling toes.

Laura made unholy love to my electrified feet with her mouth and tongue, as her stud of a boyfriend fucked me silly. She bounced her blonde head back and forth between my peds, vacuuming all of
the outstretched toes on one of my feet into her mouth and tugging on them, and then doing the same to my other tender tootsie. I moaned into her dripping cooze, vainly struggled to lap at her
pussy, overwhelmed by the sheer sensuality of our leg-inspired threesome.

Eric jolted me faster and faster with his frenzied cock-thrusts, then hollered in warning, “I’m coming, girls!”

“Jerk him off with your feet, Violet!” Laura screamed.

Eric tore his dong out of my gash and Laura shoved my legs forward and slapped my feet together over her boyfriend’s greasy pole. I grasped his rod between my spit-slick feet and pistoned
his cock with them, as Laura excitedly rubbed my engorged clitty with her fingers. Eric let out a roar that could’ve been heard two buildings away, and I felt his sizzling seed splash down
onto my tummy as I continued to vigorously foot-pump his dick. Laura’s expert clit-buffing then brought me screaming into the gaping abyss of my own depthless orgasm.

“Ohmigod!” I shrieked into her pussy. My cunny burst into flames, and my entire thrashing body was consumed by fiery ecstasy.

I writhed around on the brilliant desktop like a girl possessed, my arched feet still clinging to Eric’s blazing cock as he spray-painted my stomach with heated spunk. Laura jammed her
fingers into my gushing cunt, frantically polished my button with her thumb, and I came and came and came, the whole world crashing down upon me, leaving me devastated, wasted.

“I think she really enjoyed that,” Laura gasped, her thighs still pressing against either side of my head, her puffy, pink pussy lips only an inch away from my gaping mouth. She
pulled her fingers out of my smouldering snatch, my feet off Eric’s ruptured cock, and licked warm, sticky sperm off my rippling belly in long, hard, wet tongue-strokes.

When she’d finished cleaning me up, she and Eric kissed, Frenched, swirled come between the two of them. I tentatively licked at Laura’s glistening twat, weak as a kitten, having
been left with barely a leg to stand on.

. . . Now, I’m not sure how Laura’s boyfriend got into my orgasm-inducing female foot-fantasy – since she doesn’t even have a boyfriend, as far as I
know – but in a fantasy, unlike the real world, thank goodness, anything is possible: right?

Toyboy

Blossom (Dublin, Ireland)

I took out my key, unlocked the door, and walked in. The house was cool, still, and silent as usual but, unlike most days, it was filled with the homey scent of cinnamon and
cloves from the apple cake I baked the night before.

“I swear I must be psychic.” I shut the door and locked it behind me. “Somehow, I just knew that he’d arrive here this morning. And finally, now I’m back home, too.
I thought the day would never end.”

I was so horny I didn’t know how I’d managed to make it through the tedious workday without touching myself, but I was glad I waited. My first orgasm of the day would be with him!
The first ones were always the best and this would be a real first in more ways than one. I took a very deep breath, wished myself luck in the mirror, and walked down the narrow hall to my
bedroom.

I stepped tentatively into the room and looked straight ahead. There he was! He was lying on my bed, his head and neck supported by pillows. And that smile! He’d had a big smile on his
face when I’d settled him and left him there in the morning, but I could almost swear that it was even bigger now. He looked so happy – perhaps even as happy as he was about to make
me.

I couldn’t wait much longer. Dinner would have to be postponed till, hopefully, very late that night. First things first! The hunger that most needed satisfying was definitely not for
food. I smiled and told him that I’d take a quick shower and be right back.

I hated to leave him, even for mere moments, but my deflowering had to be special and perfect, a memory I’d treasure. A shower would wash the nervous sweat from my body and refresh me,
perhaps even soothe my frayed nerves a bit. I was sure that it was what I needed to do. It wouldn’t take long, and afterward we’d have all night, and if all went well, countless days
and nights to come.

I blew him a shy kiss, rushed into the bathroom, and turned on the water, letting it warm up as I used the toilet. The thought of him, lying there so close, waiting for me in my bed, had me more
aroused than I even realized at first. My senses were so heightened that I gasped and shivered when I accidentally brushed my clitoris with the toilet paper.

I climbed into the tub and stood under the hard, pulsing spray, letting myself get wet all over, except for my long hair that was coiled into a bun at the nape of my neck. After washing my face,
I caressed my curvaceous body all over with creamy perfumed soap, bought the week before, in anticipation of his arrival. I paid careful, gentle attention to my private parts that I would soon be
sharing with him for the first time.

Instead of taking the shower massage off the wall and aiming it at my nether lips, as I did most evenings, while leaning against the tiles or reclining in the deep tub, I left it in its bracket
on the wall. I just stood there for a few moments, enjoying the rhythmic bursts of warm water as they hit my upper body and cascaded soothingly down to my toes.

One strong jet of water struck the very tip of my taut nipple and brought tears to my eyes, but I soon forgot the sudden sting. My body was aching for sex, and ready, so ready. It wasn’t
just my stiff, sensitive nipples that told me that, but also my quickening pulse and my labia and clitoris that were swelling, throbbing, and becoming coated with a slick, viscous fluid that could
never be mistaken for water.

I turned off the shower and got out of the tub. I quickly dried my tingling skin with a big, fluffy towel while looking at my glowing, bright-eyed face in the mirrored door of the medicine
cabinet. My hot, quick breath fogged the glass as I watched myself unfasten and shake free my mass of long, dark curls.

“Well, here I am.” I smiled encouragingly to myself, trying to erase years of insecurity and self-doubt. “I’m a luscious, desirable woman, a Rubens nude come to life. He
won’t be disappointed.”

I sensuously creamed my skin with moisturizer scented with the same fragrance as the soap, then completed my toilette by spraying a cloud of the matching cologne into the air and walking through
it. After taking several deep, anxious breaths, I opened the door and stepped out into the bedroom, naked, shy, and nervous, but ready. Most definitely ready!

My lover was still lying there, just as I knew he would be, tucked snugly under the blue flowered comforter. I walked to the window and drew the curtains. It would be quite a while before sunset
and I felt too shy to be so exposed and on display in such harsh, unforgiving, bright light.

I turned away from the window and faced the bed, my hands kneading my heavy breasts. I walked back to him, slowly, luxuriously caressing and fondling the abundant flesh of my soft hills and
valleys. I looked down to watch my hands tenderly touching my body, but I’d made the room too dark. I wanted to be able to see myself and I wanted to be able to see him. I needed to see the
two of us together. I lit two candles on the dresser and a large pillar candle on the bedside table.

“That’s much better. Not too bright, but just enough. All the better to see you with, my dear,” I murmured to him.

I shyly pulled up the comforter as I slipped in, next to him. The candlelight was soft and flattering, but I was still feeling somewhat bashful. After all, I’d never been naked in front of
any man before.

He didn’t seem displeased when I asked him if he minded if I readied myself a bit with my vibrator, so I reached under the pillows and drew it out. I slipped it beneath the covers, spread
my legs, pointed it at my centre, and turned it on. Just the sound of the strong motor humming, excited and dampened me before I even parted my lips and lightly touched my clit with it.

“You do know that I’m a virgin?” I confided with some embarrassment, moving the small yet powerful machine away from my hardening bud as I spoke. “I’d feel less
anxious if I could widen myself with this.” I showed him the dildo I kept secreted with my vibrator.

When he kept on silently smiling that inscrutable smile of his, I took that as acquiescence. Lying with his warm arm behind my back, I repositioned my whirring machine. With my right hand on the
vibrator and my left holding the dildo, I began to prepare my sex for penetration by his phallus.

And did I ever need preparation! I took my hand off my trusty vibrator, left the dildo clutched tightly inside me, and lifted the covers to take a peek at him. I stared at his swollen, standing
organ. It was massive! It was positively frightening!

It appeared to be at least nine inches long with a big, bulbous head and a hefty shaft traced with bulging veins. It was nearly puce in colour and incredibly firm, I discovered, as well as huge.
The fingers of one hand could not span its circumference. I had to use both hands, and when I squeezed, the monster barely yielded to the pressure. I was sure I needed plenty of time to prepare
myself to take that tremendous member into me, that is, if it were even possible.

Nervously I picked up my massager and resumed teasing myself with it. My swollen folds parted as I gently pushed the dildo further into my sheath. I began moving the cylinder in and out of my
increasingly-slicker and more-welcoming canal. I closed my eyes and focused all my attention on that one small area of my body that seemed to be all that existed in the entire universe.

As the plastic phallus pushed in, parting my hidden walls, I revelled in the sensation of being completely filled. As it was drawn out with twisting motions, I suffered the aching, teasing
sadness of my folds collapsing in upon each other, contracting in their loss. The vibrator danced around my clit as alternating waves of joy and sorrow, fullness and emptiness, the emotions of my
very flesh, rippled in and out of my clenching sex.

The erotic sensations were so intense that I was in danger of becoming lost in my private reverie of voluptuous abandon. Unlike other occasions when I was alone and hungry, this time my sole
purpose was not to pleasure myself to orgasm. I had to remind myself that now, with each rhythmic probe and twist, I was making my sheath wider, more lubricious and welcoming. I had to be mindful
of the task that went beyond my own immediate gratification. My goal was to prime myself to take his big, hard penis into me.

Thinking of his size, especially his considerable girth, reminded me of the need to widen my nether mouth as much as I possibly could. With that in mind, I began circling the dildo as firmly and
widely as possible, round and round inside my pussy. With each determined circle, with each hard revolution, I was loosening my tight entrance and widening the swollen tunnel of my uninitiated sex.
It was truly a labour of love.

When I felt ready, I turned off the vibrator and put it aside. I drew out the dildo, moaning in pleasure as I felt the firm tug on my folds of inner flesh. The plastic cylinder was as warm as my
swollen cunt and covered with my slippery secretions. Rolling over to face him, I smiled, licked my lips and got onto my hands and knees. With pendant breasts swaying heavily beneath me, I moved
down on the bed till his erection loomed directly in front of me.

After one last shy look up at his face, I lowered my head and opened my mouth wider than I ever had before to encompass his glans. I began to lick and suck. I sucked and sucked, coating his sex
with my saliva. My fists travelled up and down his shaft, my motions at first light and slow, getting firmer and faster as the suction of my mouth increased.

After a-while, I tired. My mouth and neck were not accustomed to such strenuous exercise. My jaw complained audibly as I forced it open even wider so that I could release his penis. It bobbed up
proudly, glistening in the candlelight.

I had not expected to feel such vast and varied emotions. I was excited, aroused, and filled with such aching desire, but that bulging tool of his was so immense. The virile masculinity of it
made me feel small, soft, and feminine. It looked so dangerous and powerful in contrast with my own fragile vulnerability. It frightened me almost as much as it enticed me.

I picked up the vibrator and paused to allow myself one more look at the instrument of my imminent impalement before rising up and straddling him. I knelt above him on legs that were shaking
with equal measures of anxiety and anticipation.

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