Can't Get Enough: Erotica for Women Page 3

  Our hottest time happened recently. I was wearing a jade-green silk dress that dipped down just to the point where my pushed-together breasts met, revealing the kind of cleavage that could stop traffic. I’d piled my hair together with umpteen bobby pins, leaving my bare neck, shoulders and chest exposed. Leonard loves when I show off “the goods,” as he calls them. “I want everyone to appreciate you as much as I do, baby,” he told me early on.

  We were at a holiday party for a company Leonard has invested in, one of those events that in reality is just another excuse to do business over cocktails. The only cocks I wanted to talk about were attached to two men I’d set my sights on when we walked in the door; I’d noticed them huddled close, the one with the scruffy beard with his lips next to the blond Adonis’s ear. I stared until one of them looked back, at which point I winked and kept on going.

  We’d arranged for Leonard to arrive before me. I glided toward him, hoping the two men were staring. “Hi, honey,” I greeted Leonard, kissing his cheek. “I think I found out what I want for Christmas. They’re standing in the back, by the door.”

  He pulled me close. I didn’t need to see his crotch to know he was as interested as I was. We’d both been so busy it had been a while since I’d been with anyone other than him. I’ve found that while business requires careful calculations, when it comes to sex, the more spontaneous you can be, the better.

  “Why don’t you take your gorgeous body on over there and introduce yourself?” I did, right after I’d picked up enough cheese and crackers for three.

  “Hungry, gentlemen?” I greeted them with a smile.

  “I didn’t know this party featured servers,” said the scruffy one.

  “Oh, it doesn’t. I’m just here to serve the two of you. Cheddar?” I asked, holding up a cube. He opened his mouth, and I pressed the orange nibble inside. “And you?” I held a square of Muenster toward the blond. I fed it to him, then let my dress brush against the scruffy man’s leg. “I’m Andrea,” I said, not wanting to have to remember a fake name.

  “I’m Josh,” said the scruffy one, “and this is Colin. We’re clients of the firm.” I didn’t bother giving my mini-biography; I wasn’t feeding them cheese to get to know their minds better.

  “Well, Colin and Josh, I wouldn’t want to take you away from such a glamorous night, but I thought you might enjoy some private refreshments, ones that are, shall we say, too refined for such a large group,” I said, before popping a bite of Swiss into my mouth.

  “What’s the catch?” Colin asked, as if there were no sane reason a woman would invite two incredibly hot guys to join her in bed. Maybe not in his world, but in mine, it was at least a possibility, though one I had yet to indulge in with Leonard (before him was another story).

  “Well, there’s a small catch, actually…I’m looking to celebrate the season with my own version of the three wise men. You see that shorter man holding a scotch over there? That’s my husband. We have a deal whereby he lets me fuck whoever I want, as long as he gets to watch. And tonight I’m in the mood for…a brunette and a blond.” I raised my eyebrows, then snagged Colin’s glass, unsure exactly what was in it, but needing the liquid courage, I knocked it back. “I’ll be over there. Oh, and my husband’s name is Leonard.”

  I handed Colin his glass back, then walked away. It wasn’t the most subtle come-on I’d ever issued, but who needs to be subtle when you’re offering yourself up as a party favor? I’m not offended if my advances are turned down, because I know I have Leonard by my side. He’s more than enough man for me, and we both know that. I hoped the men would join us, but I knew we could have plenty of hot sexy fun without them.

  No sooner had I requested another champagne, than I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Colin. “We’d like to…you know,” he said, smiling politely at me, and then even more politely at Leonard. I wanted to grin back, but knew if we were truly going to have the kind of fun I desired, I had to set the right tone, one that made sure we were equally invested in having fun with one another. I wanted Colin to know that even if I was on my knees, mouth open, begging for it, I was in charge. I may be the kind of girl who can’t get enough, but I do so with dignity.

  I winked at Leonard, then turned to Colin and cocked my head, toying with the start of a smile. “Actually, I’m not sure I know what you and…your friend,” I said, indicating Josh just behind him, “are saying. Why don’t you tell me a little more clearly? You can whisper it in my ear.” I moved close enough to his lips that I could feel his breath.

  Just because I was acting bold didn’t mean I ignored the shudder of excitement that swept through me when Colin took my order and ran with it. “We want to fuck you, Andrea, both me and Josh, one at a time, or both at once, while Leonard watches you. And I personally want to feel those beautiful lips of yours wrapped around my cock.”

  I struggled to stay composed when what I suddenly longed to do was sink to my knees. Leonard must have felt me trembling, because he grabbed my arm. I looked up at Colin, seeing him in a new light, his face now glowing with the energy he’d passed on to me with his words. “Meet us in nine-two-seven,” I told him, “in five minutes. And make sure your cock is nice and hard. You too,” I tossed toward Josh.

  I pulled Leonard toward the door before I could lose my cool; that I saved for behind closed doors. We rushed to the elevator and were blessed with being its only occupants. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” Leonard mumbled before grabbing me for a kiss. This is what I most love about him—his ability to find me beautiful even when I’m about to do something so depraved. Some men fantasize about their wife or girlfriend with another woman, but often even the most sensitive guy has a jealous streak somewhere in him. Not my guy. With Leonard, the jealousy gene was reversed; he wanted to see me get down and dirty. When he broke the kiss just before the elevator doors opened, he said, “I bet you can take both of their cocks in your mouth at once. I want to see you try.”

  I was dripping wet as we entered the room and I whipped off my dress, which, while gorgeous and glamorous, wasn’t appropriate for a threesome. I let my hair down quickly, tossing my head so it spilled down my back, and slipped into the silky white nightie I’d packed just in case I got lucky (Leonard indulges my lingerie lust but prefers me au naturel). I was touching up my red lipstick when Leonard cupped my ass, then warned, “You better put down that lipstick because I’m about to spank you. I think a nice red ass is a fine welcome gift for your new friends, don’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, because Leonard knows I love getting spanked anytime, anywhere. I dropped the shiny silver tube and bent over the table, his slaps heating my lower half. “Ow,” I sobbed, loving the pain, and the knowledge that he was hitting me extra hard to show off how much I could take. Soon he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Leonard retreated to a plush chair in the corner, one perfectly placed for what was about to happen.

  I pressed my bright-red lips together one last time in the mirror, then answered the door. Colin and Josh looked even cuter than they had earlier. “Welcome,” I greeted them. “You can put your coats—”

  That’s as far as I got before Colin pulled me toward him and kissed me. “You better not have been teasing us in there, Andrea,” he said, the roughness of his lips and tone setting me off. He shrugged out of his coat and pushed me to my knees, while Josh grabbed my hair and bunched it in his hand. I heard Leonard get up and move closer, but deliberately kept my eyes shut to better focus on the feel of Colin’s dick, which he’d taken out of his pants and was holding, offering me just the tip.

  Knowing my man was close by made my throat open, my muscles relax. It wasn’t just that I wanted Leonard to be happy, though I did want that. There was something about him seeing me like that, knowing exactly how it felt to have my mouth in that position, that made it feel more like a foursome than a threesome. Everyone had a role—Colin’s to push his cock deeper down my throat, Josh’s to tighten his grip on my hair and bring his legs to either side of m
e, and Leonard’s to touch himself while he looked on. Me? My role was to simply be the center of attention, to take what each man was offering me. What Colin was offering was quite impressive. His cock was thick and hot; as aroused as I was, it still made me drool.

  “Andrea likes having two dicks in her mouth at the same time,” Leonard blurted. It was half true; I’d gotten off on the idea countless times. Leonard and I had both spun wicked fantasies about my oral skills, my ability to swallow two men’s come, but I’d never actually done it. I didn’t know if I could, in fact, pull it off, but oh how I wanted to.

  Josh bent down, nipping at my neck before asking, “Is that true? Is Colin not enough for you?” He massaged my ass as he spoke, and the warmth from my earlier spanking rushed back to my skin.

  “I want you too,” I managed to say, as I pulled away from Colin momentarily. Josh stepped back and pressed his leg between mine, before Colin pulled me toward the bed, every movement the most delicious kind of frustration. They placed me on my knees at the bed’s edge, then stripped, stood and positioned their cocks right next to each other. Leonard perched on the edge of the bed, cock in hand, smiling at me when I glanced at him. There was a beautiful symmetry before me, dick on dick, but I didn’t have time to fully appreciate it. They were both dripping and I leaned forward to lick Josh’s slit, then Colin’s. Soon I was going back and forth, before someone put his hand on my neck and coaxed both heads between my lips. I could only keep them there for a few seconds, but what glorious seconds they were.

  We filled the room with our fierce panting. Colin came first, covering my face with his cream, which caused Josh to almost immediately do the same. “Bring her over here,” Leonard commanded as the pair smeared their cream all over my face, then gave me their fingers to lick. I knew exactly what Leonard wanted and started sucking him just before he let loose in my mouth. I swallowed, then rose and led my new playmates into the shower, where we got clean, and then dirty, and then clean again.

  Maybe I am lucky after all.

  STRIP TO MY LOU

  Allison Wonderland

  It’s Saturday morning and my stomach feels sticky. On top of that, my legs feel listless, and on top of that is my husband Lou. Not only did he start without me; he finished without me, too. It isn’t like Lou to be so thoughtless.

  “The early bird gets the sperm,” I grumble, rousing from slumber.

  Lou laughs. “Thank you for the lewd awakening, but that sticky stuff isn’t mine.” Lou reaches for the plate beside my hip and punctures a flapjack with his fork. Gently, he glides the griddle cake across my middle, dabbing it in the syrup. It’s a little like the gel I squirt on bumpy bellies when I’m performing an ultrasound, except it’s warmer and…hotter.

  Lou nibbles on the fluffy batter, smacks his lips, licks the maple off my midriff. When Lou makes me breakfast in bed, well, Lou makes me breakfast in bed.

  “You’re quite the dish, Blaire,” he remarks.

  “You’re quite the sap, Lou,” I return.

  He sticks a kiss on my belly button. “Thank you, beautiful.”

  “Oh, what a beautiful morning,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. My husband calls me beautiful all the time, as if it’s my name. I pout about it, pretend it’s just a pointless, predictable platitude and when is he going to tell me something I don’t know already? But the truth is, when Lou gets mushy, I get gooey, and by this point my insides feel remarkably similar to that syrup he’s slurping. I shake my head, flipping my frown like a pancake.

  “That’s the spirit,” Lou applauds, clapping my thigh. “Grin and Blaire it.”

  “I suppose that’s easier than having to grin and, uh, bare it.”

  Lou smirks, shudders, shrugs. “Not really. Stripping is no different than undressing.” He nestles his chin against my navel. “There’s nothing to it.”

  I stroke his shoulder. “I’d be nervous, too,” I commiserate. “Hell, I’d be petrified.”

  “I am neither nervous nor petrified,” Lou insists, but his voice resists, sounding high but not mighty.

  “You could’ve fooled me.”

  “I did.”

  “No, dear, you didn’t.”

  “You’re right.” I knew he’d relent. “It scares the pants off me.” I knew he’d lament.

  “That’s the spirit,” I cheer, fisting the air. “Undress for success.”

  Now before anyone starts thinking nasty thoughts, I need to point out that my husband is not a striptease artist, amateur or otherwise. He’s a triple threat: actor, singer, dancer. A true talent, only don’t tell him I said so because the man will turn redder than a spanked fanny. I don’t know why my music man doesn’t like to toot his own horn, although it might have something to do with the fact that he has me to toot it for him. (So much for not thinking nasty thoughts.)

  Anyway, The Full Monty opens tonight. It’s a musical about down-and-out steel-mill workers convinced they’ll be in the money if they’re in the nude. Lou is one of the star strippers.

  “My diamond in the buff.” I touch his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.” I mean it, too, and he knows it, his face pink against my palm. (See, what did I tell you?) Lou’s an awful lot like Bashful the dwarf, only taller. But when he’s onstage, he comes to life like Pinocchio. And, hey, as long as Lou keeps his performance anxiety confined to the theater, I’ll continue to support him a hundred percent.

  “Um, tonight, at the show, I should mention… Well, just please keep in mind that audience participation is optional, not mandatory. If your hand gets anywhere near my…pelvic area while I’m performing, the hard part won’t be taking my clothes off. The hard part will be not getting aroused.”

  “On the contrary—the hard part will be getting aroused.”

  Lou groans while I giggle. He takes a gulp of air, then a gulp of orange juice. “I loathe you,” he tells me.

  “I love you,” I tell him.

  “I love you, too.”

  “Three.”

  “Four.”

  “More.”

  Lou’s lips touch my thigh. His lips are sticky, but then, so are mine. We complement each other so well. “I don’t have to come,” I murmur.

  Lou snickers. He reaches for the bottle of syrup, holds it over me, squeezes until it squirts. The sap taps my belly, keeps flowing. “Sit up slowly,” Lou instructs. “Don’t scrunch your stomach or you’ll ruin it.”

  I follow his instructions to the letter.

  “I put an L on you,” Lou croons to the tune of the Screamin’ Jay Hawkins ditty, “because you’re mine.” He belts up. “Therefore,” he continues, fixing me with a look that’s both austere and sincere, “you have to come.”

  I laugh until my belly aches, then smile until my face hurts. “Okay,” I say. “I’ll be there with L’s on.”

  I got a big bang out of the show. With a little luck, I’ll get a big bang out of Lou after the show. I deserve one—I kept my hands to myself, made sure I didn’t accidentally arouse any of the hard parts in his pelvic area. However, some women in the audience, with their hornier-than-thou attitudes and suggestive suggestions, would have done well to follow my example. Because unlike them, I was on my best behavior. And now I want Lou in the worst way.

  I try to maintain some semblance of self-control when he emerges from the dressing room, but it isn’t easy. He’s beaming at me and his dolphin-gray eyes are shining and they’re just as radiant as his smile. Now he’s got me in his clutches, flush against his frame so that I’m clinging to him almost as tightly as the light-blue T-shirt he’s wearing. His chest fleshes out the shirt quite nicely, molding the material to his muscles. My heart bumps his ribs.

  “I saw you leading the standing O,” he murmurs into my hair.

  “I’d like to see you leading me to a standing O,” I counter, hugging harder. “In fact, any kind of O will do. This is no time to be picky about positions.”

  Lou loosens his grip. I don’t have much of one on myself, either. “I take it you aren’t
bothered by my new sex-symbol status?” he asks, guiding me toward the door.

  “Not at all.” I slip my hand into his as he starts to walk me home, just like he did when we were teenagers. “On the contrary—I’m hot and bothered by it. I don’t have to follow that pesky look-but-don’t-touch rule that everyone else does.” To drive home my point, I pull my hand loose and goose him.

  Lou looks gratified yet mortified.

  “What?” I shrug. “Can I help it if I get handy when I’m randy? If you don’t like it, then don’t be so desirable.”

  The blush is back with a vengeance. “Thanks, beautiful,” Lou says, always gracious when I’m salacious. My shy guy and I round the corner, approaching our favorite watering hole. “Would you care for a cocktail?” he offers.

  “Are they a package deal?” I’d like to know.

  Lou regards me as if I’m one garment short of a full monty. “The cock and the tail—are they a package deal?” I clarify. “Because the way I see it, they’re kind of like Danny and Sandy in Grease: they go together.”

  “Good grief,” Lou mutters, shaking his head at my persistent prurience. “You know, Blaire, I used to bring out the best in you. Now I just bring out the beast in you. I think I may be losing my touch.”

  “You can have mine,” I propose, and press my palm against his abdomen.

  Lou places his hand over mine, cups his so that our fingers are touching. “What in the world am I going to do with you?” he contemplates. “Besides the…well, you know, the obvious.”