Tag Archives: married couple

“Up Against The Wall” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story inspired by an incident involving a former roommate of mine and a significant dent in a wall that required an awkward conversation with the landlord. Once you read the story, you’ll understand why. Enjoy!

“So long, first apartment. I’ll miss you,” said Tyler Avery in a distant, but resigned tone.

“Technically, it’s a dorm room, Ty,” said Lindsey Bailey, his bemused girlfriend of the past two years.

“Call it whatever you want. It’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

“Despite the moldy showers and lousy heating?”

Especially because of the moldy showers and lousy heating.”

It might have been a strange sentiment to have, holding an undersized and unremarkable apartment in such high regard. Tyler certainly didn’t blame his girlfriend for being eager to move out the day after they graduated college. However, he couldn’t help but have some personal attachment to his first ever home away from home.

“This is where I finally grew into who I wanted to be,” Tyler said to himself. “I got to reinvent myself within these walls. I became someone I could never have been anywhere else.”

Walking through the now-empty dwelling, running his fingers along the cold white walls, Tyler recalled the man he’d been the day he first arrived as an overwhelmed freshman. He came from a small town where the idea of going to college was more a daydream than a realistic goal. The only reason he’d been able to attend was because he got a baseball scholarship. While that made him the envy of many back home, he was not the least bit prepared for what and who he would find.

Growing up, he had little say in his living situation. He’d grown up in a small house with three siblings. They shared a bedroom, a bathroom, and pretty much everything else. Nobody could ever claim that a particular space was their own. There just wasn’t enough of it to go around. Even his first baseball glove had previously belonged to his father. The idea of actually having a place to call his own seemed so radical at first.

Then, he arrived on campus and moved into his first place, a dorm building that catered specifically to student athletes. It was such a strange experience, living by himself after living with his family for so long. He remembered nights being so eerily quiet, so much so that he couldn’t sleep. It left him alone with his thoughts for hours on end, contemplating things he’d never thought about before.

In doing so, Tyler learned something about himself. The first thing he learned was that he needed to become his own person. The second was that he didn’t like living alone. That ultimately played a major role in how Lindsey entered his life.

“Remember the first night I invited you here?” Tyler pondered as he walked around the empty living room.

“Of course I do,” Lindsey said with a coy grin. “You tried to sound so confident, but failed in the most adorable way possible.”

“That’s because I was nowhere near as confident as my batting average, as the time,” he said. “I was still on my own, learning how to live my own life and make my own choices. Where I come from, you don’t get those kinds of choices.”

“It probably helped that you were a handsome young athlete,” she said, still standing in the foyer. “Guess that makes me lucky because you chose to share your life with me.”

“It wasn’t luck from my perspective. Being here, a star athlete on scholarship with his own place, I had a lot of choices thrown at me…including some very bad ones that could’ve taken me down a very nasty path.”

“You referring to that guy who tried to sell you Adderall your sophomore year? Or the cheerleader who offered to suck your dick for every home run you hit?”

“Among many others,” Tyler said, shaking his head in amazement at some of the choices he’d avoided. “You were the first I dared to let in…not just in terms of seeing my first place, but personally as well. I brought you here at a time when I knew I didn’t want to be alone, but I also knew I didn’t want to make the wrong choice.”

“And I’m glad I chose to go with you,” Lindsey said in a more serious tone, “and not just because this place was a step up from my dorm. I knew when I saw you that you were a good, but conflicted soul…the kind of soul you don’t expect to find in some hotshot athlete.”

“You think I’m a hotshot?” Tyler said with a snicker.

“No, I think you’re much more than that.”

Tyler smiled as he stood in the far corner of the living room, just next to the window that overlooked the campus courtyard. Lindsey walked over and joined him, standing next to him and pulling him into a light embrace. He welcomed the feeling. It also helped him recall just how much his life changed after he met her.

A lot of that change took place within the barren walls that now surrounded him. While Lindsey wasn’t the first girlfriend he’d ever had, she’d been the most impactful, by far. Unlike him, she’d come from a less isolated part of the state, having grown up in a less cramped household in which she had her own room, her own stuff, and her own place to grow. Being with her, even before he fell in love with her, taught him a lot about forging his own path.

Their romance did not happen all at once. In fact, she’d been dating someone else when they first met. Growing closer to her made getting together an easy transition, albeit one that got passionate very quickly. It made lonely nights less lonely and helped him envision life beyond simply escaping his isolated home town.

Then, there were all the intimate moments they’d shared together. Looking around, Tyler could point out all the places and circumstances in which they’d made love. Those were among his most cherished memories. Leaving them behind, despite knowing a better apartment awaited him and Lindsey, was bittersweet.

“You always were the sentimental type,” Lindsey told him. “It’s just one of the many things I love about you.”

“Thanks,” he said, giving her waist an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve always helped me keep things in perspective, Lindsey. You help me keep my feet on the ground, my ego in check, and my heart beating strong.”

“You don’t always make it easy on me, but you’ve always made it worth the effort.”

“And I want to keep doing that. I want to move forward in my life…a life I want to share with you.”

“Damn it, Tyler. Now you’re making me sentimental for this place too,” she said.

“Why shouldn’t it be? This was, after all, the place in which I chose to share my life with someone. For the first time, in a space I could call me own, I opened my heart and my front door to someone. I had no idea what to expect…whether I was making a mistake or setting myself up for heartache. In the end, that choice and this place gave me something precious…something I’ll always treasure, no matter where we live from here on out.”

Tyler hadn’t expected to get so emotional while standing in an empty apartment. Now, Lindsey was getting worked up too, burying her face in his shoulders to hide any tears she might have shed. She never hid them very well, but that didn’t stop Tyler from holding her close, resting his chin on her shoulder and reflecting on their looming future.

“I want to share that life too,” Lindsey told him. “I’m not used to thinking beyond my next class, my next job, or even my next rent payment, but I want to entertain the possibilities, damn it!”

“Glad I could affect your thinking as much as you affected mine,” said Tylor with loving grin.

“And to think, it all started here…in this unremarkable dorm with sub-par plumbing.”

“I know. Amazing, isn’t it?”

They shared a good laugh, their shared appreciation of his first apartment growing with every fond memory. Knowing their things were packed and a long drive to their new home awaited them, added more weight to those memories. While he looked forward to making new memories with Lindsey in another home, he intended to cherish the ones he’d made with her thus far.

Together, they lingered near the corner of the empty living room. He kept embracing Lindsey for as long as she needed. She didn’t often get emotional, but when she did, she often needed a little extra intimacy and Tyler was more than happy to provide it. After all, the intimacy they’d shared within the surrounding walls helped forge the intimate connection they now cherished.

Then, when it seemed the emotional venting had passed, Lindsey snaked her arms around his neck and locked her gaze with his. In the process, he saw her eyes take on a new intensity.

“Tyler,” she said to him.

“Yes, Lindsey?” he asked.

“Do me,” she said intently.

Tyler blinked a few times in astonishment, not certain of what he’d just heard. However, the look in her eyes indicated that she was dead serious.

“Right here…in this room…up against the wall,” she said, each word echoing with seductive subtext. “Do me!”

“Is this your idea of making one last fond memory of this place?” Tyler asked her.

“Can it just be because I really love you and I’m really horny right now?”

“Either way works for me!”

With a loving grin and renewed energy, Tyler kissed his wonderful girlfriend on the lips and deepened their intimate embrace. He didn’t bother trying to surmise what inspired her to want sex in an empty apartment. If making love to her was to be their last act within such familiar walls, then Tyler was more than happy to make the most of it.

Their lips entwined and their hands eagerly roaming, Tyler led his lover up against the wall just next to the window. It was somewhat dirty, but that didn’t dissuade Lindsey in the slightest. She still jumped up into his arms, threw her legs around her waist, and began pulling at his shirt.

“Off! Get it off!” she urged.

Tyler gladly obliged, shifting his torso so that she could pull his shirt up off over his head. He returned the favor by taking her shirt off too. She didn’t even mind when he threw it across the room. Their clothes were already dusty and dirty from moving their stuff out into the truck. Getting out of them for a while had more appeal than usual.

“You worked up quite a sweat,” Lindsey commented upon feeling his bare chest.

“I did,” he admitted. “Care to help me work up another?”

She answered by kissing him again and pawing his chest, further stoking his. Since the air conditioner had been turned off, they had even more incentive to get undressed.

Lindsey got out ahead of him, pushing her bra-straps to the side of her shoulders before slipping it off with ease. While Tyler quickly refocused his attention on her exposed breasts, she released her grip on him with her legs so that she could remove her pants. Before he knew it, she was down to a pair of white panties.

“Your turn,” she whispered into his ear seductively.

Before he had a chance to really enjoy her breasts, Lindsey dropped to her knees and undid his belt buckle. As soon as he was unlocked, she pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, freeing his rapidly-growing manhood from its confines. Before he even stepped out of his sneakers, she grasped his hardened member with both hands.

“Right here, next to this window, is where I gave you your first blowjob,” she told him while stroking his shaft. “We were on the couch, watching the World Series.”

“I remember. God, I remember so well,” Tyler said, already breathless.

“I’ll make sure you remember this too.”

Always a woman of her word, Lyndsey put her oral sex skills to good use. She once bragged she could suck a dick as well as he could hit an inside fastball. At the time, it was a hell of a claim, but she once again proved herself.

With perfect blend of passion and lust, she sucked along his masculine flesh, her soft lips and slithering tongue stimulating every nerve. Tyler had to lean against the nearby wall just to stay upright, moaning intently as she drew him into a state of complete arousal.

“Damn, that feels good!” he gasped. “Almost as good as when we did it in the kitchen…up against the fridge.”

“Mmm…almost?” Lindsey said, briefly gazing up from his lower body.

“Just giving us a reason to make this time really count.”

“And it’s a damn good reason.”

Still flexing her intimate skills, Lindsey gave his shaft one last lick before rising back up to her feet. From there, Tyler took charge. She’d given him so many wonderful experiences in the apartment. He was determined to give her something extra special.

“Up against the wall,” he said in a deep, manly tone.

She looked back at him with a captivated glance, as though he’d just triggered the most intense arousal she’d ever experienced. Lindsey once told him that her biggest turn-on was a man who seized initiative during sex. Being an athlete and a competitor, Tyler was in a better position than most to get her feminine juices flowing.

Grabbing her waist with his powerful arms, he turned his half-naked girlfriend around so that she was up against the wall, just as he’d said. From there, he grasped the sides of her panties and pulled them off, rendering her fully naked and giving him a perfect view of her heart-shaped butt.

True to her kinks, she was very wet. He could feel the heat radiating from her inner thighs, longing for his loving touch. Never one to deny his lover, he positioned himself behind her and aligned his body with hers.

“One last time…in this apartment…together,” Tyler said intently.

“Together,” Lindsey repeated.

In a single thrust, he entered her, his rigid member penetrating her moist depths. They each let out a passionate gasp as her inner muscles tightened around his flesh, entwining their bodies and evoking a surge of intimate sensations.

After taking in that hot, sensual feeling, the aspiring athlete tightened his grip on her waist and began moving his hips in a rhythmic manner. Like two missing souls finding one another, their fleshly union inspired a harmonious dance of sorts. In a symphony of intimate gasps, Lindsey raked her nails down barren wall while he rocked her world with every motion. In between the grunts and moans, he leaned forward and whispered affectionate musings into his ear.

“Here…we fell in love,” he told her. “Here…we made it real.”

Lindsey let out an especially vocal gasp, turning her head and kissing his lips as their naked bodies moved in a heated vigor. In the empty apartment, the echoes were louder. The sounds of their flesh banging together filled the area with a unique ambience, as if the apartment were cheering them on for one last intimate romp.

Never one to disappoint a cheering crowd, Tyler stepped up his passionate efforts. He made love to Lindsey with greater fervor and focus, pressing her body against the wall even more, her breasts mashing up against the cold surface. As the sensations flowed through them, escalating with each successive motion of passion, it affirmed the memories they’d shared in the apartment. It also reminded Tyler why he fell in love with her.

“Lindsey…so much,” he gasped, “love you…so much.”

“Oohhh Tyler! I love you too!” she exclaimed. “Please…take me.”

Once again heeding her amorous cries, Tyler used his leverage over her to reorient their bodies. In a perfect coordination of passion, he briefly withdrew from her depths, turned her around, and pinned her up against the wall like he had done earlier before their clothes came off. Just like before, his lover jumped his bone, throwing her legs around his waist. His hands now firmly on her hips, he lowered her back onto his dick and resumed their heated lovemaking.

Now facing his love, seeing the affection and ecstasy in her eyes, he caressed her face while she clung to his shoulders. With their bodies still moving at a fervent pace, their bodies grinding up and down the wall, he kissed her as he made a concerted push for greater ecstasy. The loud echoes, combined with so many fond memories, helped raise the stakes. It wasn’t just about having a good hump with his girlfriend. It was a celebration of how far they’d come.

“Lindsey…I’m close,” he told her.

“Me too, Tyler. Me too!” she gasped.

Having come to know his lover’s intimate proclivities, he did what he needed to do to carry her to the brink. When she was close, she liked it slow and thorough so that his manhood penetrated extra deep into her depths. All the lovemaking they’d done in the apartment had made him adept at bringing Lindsey to orgasm. Taking her to that special threshold one last time within such a special place was extra satisfying.

“Oohhh yes!” Lindsey cried out upon reaching that plateau.

At that moment, he used the leverage afforded by the wall to fully support her, watching in awe as her expression contorted to the ecstasy that followed. It was a beautiful sight, seeing the woman he loved consumed with such bliss, feeling her body shudder under the weight of the pleasure.

As he admired such beauty, he let that same weight overtake him as well. With a few more targeted thrusts, he crossed that special threshold as well, achieving a powerful release that send hot ripples of pleasure coursing through his body. The echoes in the empty apartment all seemed to converge around them, as if to cap off the life they’d build together within such sturdy walls.

“We did it, Lindsey. We did it,” he said breathlessly.

“Yes…we did,” she said through her orgasmic daze.

He wasn’t sure if she was referring to their sex or to how far their love had come. It really didn’t matter at that point. As their naked bodies radiated in the afterglow of shared euphoria, he withdrew his flesh from her and captured her lips in another loving kiss. She remained against the wall, their naked bodies glistening with sweat in the midday sun.

They had officially left their mark. Between the sweat that now clung to the walls and the smell of their sex permeating the empty apartment, it was safe to say that they had forged one last fond memory in his first true home.

“I’m going to miss this place even more, now,” Tyler said to her.

“I am too…carpet stains and all,” Lindsey said.

“We’ll make our new place even better,” he said confidently, “hopefully, with fewer stains and plumbing problems.”

“I can’t wait,” his love said with a beaming smile, “but before we unpack our things, let’s make sure the walls are just as sturdy!”

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“Pleasing You” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote while taking a shower one day. A lot sexy thoughts tend to happen in the shower, depending on the kind of day you’ve had. This one was simply sexy enough to inspire a story. Enjoy!

“Late, restless, and sore,” sighed Trevor Zander as he pulled into his driveway, “so what else is new?”

It had been yet another long day at the office. Again, Trevor got caught up with work that someone else should’ve done. Again, he had to be the one who picked up the slack because nobody else would. It was becoming too common, him pulling extra weight when others couldn’t. It wasn’t fair, but someone had to do it and he had to set the example.

It wasn’t fair, but it was still his responsibility. Ever since Trevor quit his comfortable desk job at an insurance company, his work/life balance had been erratic, to say the least. Ever since finishing college, he’d strived to be more than just some paper-pusher at someone else’s company. He wanted to star this own business, build his own legacy, and achieve his own goals. That meant putting in extra money, time, and effort. He just had no idea it could be so draining.

As he turned off his car and stared at the small house he could barely afford, Trevor considered staying in the car for the rest of the night. His wife, Rachel, deserved better. It was almost midnight and he’d promised that morning he would be home for dinner. The worst part of his day, by far, was when he had to call her that afternoon to let her know he had to break that promise.

It wasn’t the first time he’d gone back on his word, but it had been happening way too often lately. He’d kept making the same excuses. Breaking one minor promise helped him keep a much bigger promise he’d made the day they got married.

He told Rachel at the altar that he would give her a better life. He was going to start the business he’d been planning for since high school. He was going to rise above the poverty that had held his family back for years. He was going to give her and their future children every possible advantage. While he didn’t regret making that promise, he wished he’d thought it through.

“I’m a man of my word. I always have been,” he said distantly. “So why does it feel like I’m failing the woman I love?”

He wanted to bang his head against the steering wheel, if only to punish himself for breaking another promise. It didn’t matter that it was minor. He said he’d be home for dinner and he wasn’t. A lie was a lie, no matter the scale.

Now, it was almost midnight. For all he knew, she was fast asleep and he wouldn’t have a chance to apologize again. That was reason enough to hit himself upside the head, but that wouldn’t have made him feel less crappy.

“No excuses,” Trevor muttered. “You can beat yourself up all you want. You’ll never bury the excuses.”

That was something his father told him. He’d died several years ago, broken and in debt after working himself to the bone at a construction site. He was the one who encouraged Trevor to make something more of himself. So far, he couldn’t say he’d failed, but he couldn’t say he was succeeding either. The best he could do was prepare himself for more hard work and more broken promises.

“I’m sorry, dad. I’m sorry, Rachel,” he said under his breath. “At some point, I need to make those words matter.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to achieve that goal anytime soon, Trevor sighed to himself again and got out of the car. The restlessness seemed to follow him as he entered his darkened house, the only light coming from the living room.

There, he found his beautiful wife lying on the couch, fast asleep with the TV remote still in her hand. She must have been waiting for him. She was wearing those old sweatpants and oversized T-shirt she always wore when she needed to relax. She usually tried to be up, no matter how late he got home. He didn’t hold it against her, but at least she never made a promise she couldn’t keep.

“Good night, my love,” he said. “At least one of us should get a peaceful night’s sleep. You deserve it.”

Casting her an affectionate smile, Trevor kissed her on the forehead before covering her with a light blanket. She barely stirred from his gentle touch. Being the heavy sleeper she was, he wasn’t worried about waking her.

Content to let his wife sleep peacefully, he made his way upstairs where he stripped out of his work clothes and made his way into the bathroom. He couldn’t keep his promise to be home in time for dinner, but he could still make it so he didn’t smell like copier ink in the morning. Having not had time to shower that morning, he needed something to help him relax, even if he didn’t deserve it.

“It’s got to get easier,” he said to himself as he waited for the water to warm up. “This can’t keep being the least stressful part of my day.”

His nerves still frayed and his mind still racing, Trevor entered the shower and began rinsing himself off. The hot torrent of water helped soothe some soreness he’d been feeling all afternoon, but that was the most he could hope for. He was too restless to sleep and he had another long day ahead of him tomorrow so chances were that harder days awaited him.

“This time, I won’t make promises I can’t keep,” Trevor told himself. “No more excuses…especially to the people I love.”

He kept telling himself that as he stood under the hot stream of water, letting it wash away the frustrations and rigors. He wasn’t sure if he would even try to sleep. Maybe he was better off just doing some work from home to get a head start on the next day, which already seemed so daunting.

As he contemplated that prospect, though, he heard the bathroom door open. Then, through the fogged up glass of the shower, he saw a familiar figure approach.

“Rachel?” Trevor called out. “Is that you?”

“Of course, my love,” replied that sweet, caring voice he knew so well. “Who else would be here for you this late?”

Before he could ask another question, the shower door opened. Sure enough, it was Rachel, wide awake and with a loving smile on her face. He was so taken aback that he almost forgot he was naked and looking right at her.

“Looks like you had another rough day,” Rachel said. “Hell, you’ve been having a lot of those lately. And I feel like I can do more to help.”

Then, that loving smile never leaving her face, she took off her clothes. Even though Trevor had even her naked many times before, watching the woman he loved strip was still a sight to behold. He was at such a loss for words that he barely moved when she entered the shower with him.

“Scoot,” she said. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

“I know,” said Trevor, “but…”

“No buts,” she said, silencing him with a finger to the lips. “I know it’s late. I know you’re overworked and over-stressed. That’s exactly why you need this…why we need this.”

Trevor wasn’t about to argue with a beautiful naked woman. He was more than happy to make some room for Rachel, who hadn’t been fast asleep after all. He was all too eager to enter her loving embrace, their naked bodies coming together in an almost desperate need for love and comfort. With the hot water still cascading down between them, he finally felt some semblance of relief.

“Are you going to at least let me say I’m sorry?” Trevor asked her as he held her in his powerful arms.

“You already did, remember?” Rachel reply.

“I know, but it’s worth saying again. I promised you I’d be home for dinner and I wasn’t. I keep trying to make time with you and things just keep getting in the way.”

“That’s bound to happen for someone trying to build his own business.”

“That’s not the point. What good is building something if you don’t even have a chance to share it? I’m not just doing this for me, remember? I’m doing this for us.”

“I know you are,” said Rachel, “and I love you for that. I also knew we were in for a lot of sleepless nights when I agreed to marry you…and I’m not just talking about our honeymoon.”

“Except that was sleepless for very different reasons,” he said with curt grin.

“But you’re not the only one who made big promises on our wedding day. I remember making a few of my own. And I’d like to keep one of them tonight while I have the chance.”

That sweet, caring tone in her voice made all stress from earlier melt away. Then, still standing in a naked wet embrace, she kissed him. It might have been the best possible remedy for such a long day. Tasting her lips while feeling her breasts press up against his chest was such a wonderful feeling. It helped remind him why he’d made such lofty promises to her in the first place.

For while, they just soaked it in, kissing and caressing one another under the steaming torrent of water. Rachel lovingly pawed his chest and back while he felt up her womanly curves, giving her butt some extra attention along the way. Despite all the stress he’d endured from a long day at work, his body still reacted to her sensual affections. He could already feel an arousal building between them.

Rachel must have felt it too because, as they kissed, her touching drifted down towards his lower body. Her hand soon made contact with his manhood, which was already semi-hard. Without saying another word, she broke the kiss and dropped to her knees.

“Rachel,” Trevor gasped as he felt his wife’s hand on his cock, “what are you doing?”

“Pleasing you,” was all she said.

That was all she needed to say. Still looking up at him with those loving eyes, she sensually licked her lips before taking his member into her mouth. It made his legs tremble, his knees almost buckling on the spot. Trevor had to hold onto the glossy walls of the shower for support, the sudden flood of sensations coursing through his body.

Rachel was skilled at a lot of things, but oral sex was one of her specialties. She knew just how he liked it, suckling his member with care and precision. She was so thorough, slithering her tongue along his manly length and squeezing the shaft with her firm grip. It was enough to divert the flow of blood in his body and refocus his thoughts on something other than work.

“Ooh Rachel!” Trevor moaned. “That’s just…what I need.”

That only encouraged her. With the water still falling around them, she sucked him harder, bobbing her head back and forth along his rigid length. Trevor soon found himself fully aroused and overwhelmed with desire. Looking at his wife, he no longer cared for broken promises or stressful nights. His only desire was to make love to her in the way she deserved.

“My love,” she said to him after giving his shaft one last lick, “I think you need something more.”

“So do you, my darling wife,” Trevor said with a grin, “so do you.”

Her eyes radiating a similar desire, she rose up from the shower floor. From there, Trevor took the initiative. Empowered with newfound passion and determined with renewed focus, he turned her around and pinned her up against the nearby wall so that her heart-shaped butt was pointed right at him. From there, lust and instinct took over.

Now positioned behind her, Trevor grabbed hold of her waist and aligned his rigid manhood with her wet entrance. He then delivered an intimate thrust, entering Rachel’s womanly depths. Gasps and moans quickly followed. Their flesh now united in a passionate harmony, they began moving together under the torrent of water.

“Oh Rachel!” Trevor moaned.

“Mmm…are you pleased, my love?” Rachel moaned in response.

“Ooh yeah!”

She’d really done it. Moments ago, he’d been so anxious and restless. Now, he’d joined her in a shared daze of passion. He honestly couldn’t imagine a better remedy for such a long day.

As their naked bodies moved to the steady pace of their lovemaking, he lovingly kissed down her neck, savoring the taste of her naked skin. Rachel loved having her neck teased. It always drove her wild during their intimate moments. It showed in the way she bucked her hips in accord with his every thrust, using the wall as leverage every step of the way.

As the intensity escalated, his hand found hers and their fingers interlocked. Rachel also turned her head at times so they could share a loving kiss, a gesture of love to balance an act of raw lust. It led to more heated movements. Aided by both intense arousal and the steamy environment of the shower, his manly flesh slithered effortlessly within her womanly depths. Just as she knew how to please him in his most stressful moments, he knew how to please her too.

“Rachel, I…I’m getting close,” Trevor whispered into her ear.

“Me too, Trevor. Me…too!” Rachel gasped. “Let’s…let’s do it together!”

“You please me. I please you. It’s only fair.”

It couldn’t have been more fitting, him returning the favor for her going out of her way. She was such a good woman. She deserved the best and Trevor was going to give it to her.

For the final push to ecstasy, he withdrew from her briefly and turned her around. He then pinned her up against the shower wall again, hitched her leg up over his arm, and entered her again. He made sure to be extra fervent with the pace of their lovemaking, locking eyes with his beautiful wife and caressing her face in preparation for the final moment. When it arrived, the look of joy on her face made every stressful day so worth it.

“Oohhhh Trevor!”

It was a sight to behold, his wife climaxing before his eyes. There was something extra special about it in the steamy ambiance of their shower. It made his own descent into ecstasy that much more satisfying.

In that moment, it all came together. She clung it him desperately as orgasmic bliss consumed her body. He held onto her as white hot pleasure surged through him, his manly flesh throbbing within her hot depths. A mixing of their juices coupled with intense sensations made for a harmonious culmination, one that felt as rewarding as keeping a promise.

“Trevor,” Rachel said, her face still awash with passion, “I still believe in you…in us.”

“Yeah…me too,” said Trevor breathlessly.

“You haven’t…broken your promises. You’re doing…your part. I want to do mine too.”

“You are, Rachel,” he said with a wide grin. “You most certainly are. And I won’t forget that again. I promise.”

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“Role Reversal” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story that I wrote after hearing how some couples engaged in sexy role playing. There are a great many ways to spice up a relationship, no matter what stage it’s at. Role playing is one of the easiest and most flexible. This story should get that point across. Enjoy!

“You looking for a good time, hot stuff? Because I’m all about good times…for a price!”

Gloria “Glory” Pyre chuckled to herself, but tried to take the kinky sight before her seriously. That wasn’t easy because her husband, Brett Pyre, didn’t usually wear a black leather jacket, skin-tight pants, undersized shirts, and enough of hair-care products to open his own salon. He hadn’t worn something that elaborate since their wedding day and even then, he didn’t go so overboard with the aftershave.

She still humored him, though. Pretending to be shy and reserved, she opened the door to the hotel room they’d rented and welcomed him.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Steadman,” she said.

“That’s Studman, ma’am,” he said boldly.

“Right…Mr. Studman,” Glory said, still trying not to laugh. “Please…won’t you come in?”

“That depends. Are you the same Glory who reserved a full hour of my valuable time?”

“Yes, I am,” she said, “and if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to not waste a second of it.”

She made it sound like a business arrangement, which was part of the gimmick. Brett, still carrying himself as though he were the hottest thing with two balls in a dick, entered the room, but not before putting the “do not disturb” sign on the door knob.

Glory knew the ritual well. She had gone through it herself many times before. In another life – one that had only ended a few years ago, no less – she had been a high-end escort. She used to be the one to arrive at fancy hotels, wearing elegant dresses and revealing thong underwear, to greet horny clients. She once considered herself as one of the best in the business, having served a diverse range of clients, many of which had deep pockets.

It started as a side-gig that helped pay off her student loan debt, but it turned into something so much more. Glory had always been a sexual person, by nature. However, it was only when she turned it into a marketable skill that she uncovered the breadth of her sexuality. Her time as an escort allowed her to explore sex in a way she never could’ve experienced in her personal life. It came to become one of the most meaningful things she’d ever done.

Part of what made that time in her life so meaningful was standing right before her. The man she’d married had once been a regular client, but not a traditional one, to say the least. In fact, a big part of why she fell in love with him came from her work as an escort and the work he’d done, as well.

“Right down to business,” he said in a low, manly tone of voice, “I like that.”

“My time is precious. I like to make it matter,” Glory replied in a flirtatious tone, “which is why I made it a point to hire the best.”

“Well, you have an eye for quality,” Brett said playfully, “although I have to say…you’re a lot more attractive than most of my clients.”

“Oh I’m sure you say that to all the women who enlist your services.”

“I mean it. I mean, look at you! You’re young, beautiful, and have enough money to afford my time. Why would someone like you need to hire a guy like me?”

He briefly broke character. Those were the words of her husband and not the role he was playing. They were also the words of an aspiring therapist who’d expanded his own skills, thanks to her. How that played out was a big reason why they fell in love, but Glory couldn’t focus on that now. They still had a role to play.

Brett tried to make up for it by snaking his arms around her waist, slipping a hand into the back pocket of her jeans. It maintained the mood, but highlighted and important detail of their elaborate act. However, it was one that Glory had already contemplated long before she pitched the idea.

“It’s funny. Questions like that usually have lousy answers,” she said, taking on a more serious demeanor. “I get it. I’m beautiful. Men and women have been telling me that since I started filling out bras in middle school.”

“And you fill them out well,” Brett commented while admiring the cleavage that her halter top did little to hide.

“That made hooking up so easy,” Glory went on. “I could walk into a room, pick any guy I wanted, and get him in bed by the end of the day…so long as he was straight.”

“You make that sound like a problem.”

“It wasn’t for a long time. I slept with a lot of men. I had a lot of great sex. The problem was…well, it’s more an issue of quality rather than quantity.”

She finally embraced her role a bit. She moved in closer to the handsome man before her, snaking an arm around his neck while trailing her hand over his chest. Even through that fancy shirt he wore, she could feel the toned muscles of his upper body. She already knew those features well, but Glory had felt manly muscles during her time as an escort. What set Brett apart played a big role in them falling in love.

“You see…when a man is with a beautiful woman, they tend to get overly excited,” she said.

“Trust me, I don’t have that problem,” Brett said confidently. “I wouldn’t be Mr. Studman if I didn’t have the stamina.”

“That’s not entirely what I was referring to. Being beautiful has many perks, but when so many men want to sleep with you, they tend to treat it as some sort of fleeting moment…one they have to maximize to the greatest extent. While I can’t honestly blame them, it often leaves me unfulfilled.”

Her tone took on a more sensual undertone. It blurred the line between Gloria and Glory, which happened a lot with her sex life. She had always been a very sexual person, by nature. Sometimes, her persona as an escort did not complement her persona as a horny woman. She did not intend for that to be the case for tonight.

“Ah…I see what you’re getting at,” Brett said.

“I doubt you can understand it, though,” Glory said. “All my life, I’ve been the judge and the prize…sifting through parades of would-be lovers, hoping to find one who can please me. For once, I want to try things from the other side. I want to be the one desperate for sex, seeking the company of a professional whore to satisfy my most basic needs.”

“So you called me…Mr. Studman.”

“Yes,” she affirmed. “I called you, the most expensive gigolo in the tristate area. I’m hoping you’re worth the premium!”

Glory was already getting excited. She actually felt nervous. She hadn’t felt nervous in a sexual situation since high school. She was so used to being the one with all the leverage. For once, that wasn’t the case. It was jarring, but also thrilling in a strange sort of way.

Still in Brett’s muscular arms, she pawed his chest to communicate her desire. There was nothing theatrical about it. There was just the overt gesture of a very horny woman who just wanted sex. She’d been on the other end of that dynamic more times than she could count. She was ready to experience things from the other side.

Brett, having gone to great lengths to prepare for his role, continued to do his part. He settled into a more serious demeanor, taking on the kind of business-like poise that she often did when she served a client. It was unusual, but it still turned her on.

“I see,” Brett said, still speaking in the tone of Mr. Studman. “Well, we gigolos pride ourselves on proving our value. I intend to make this little transaction every bit as successful.”

“Great!” Glory said, sounding like a giddy school girl. “In that case, shall we get down to business?”

“Lead the way, ma’am.”

With growing excitement, she led her handsome “gigolo” from the foyer to the king sized bed in middle of the hotel room. Along the way, she placed an envelope full of money – it was actually monopoly money, but it was close enough – and made sure he saw the full amount. As any competent escort knew, the amount of money in the envelope determined the type of services rendered.

“Here’s what I want,” Glory said, sitting down at the foot of the bed with Brett, “nothing fancy or elaborate…just a good, thorough fuck.”

“Sounds simple enough for Mr. Studman,” Brett said confidently.

“I don’t want it rushed or messy, either. This isn’t my senior prom. This isn’t my honeymoon. I just want a good, professional fuck by someone who knows his way around the female body.”

“That, I can do. I’ve plenty of experience with both!”

“It’s not just experience that matters, here. I’ve been with men who’ve slept with dozens of women, but don’t know the difference between a clitoris and a hangnail. I’ve also been with men who have next to no experience, but still find a way to get me off because they actually put in the effort. What I want…what I need, tonight…is someone who can do both.”

It sounded like she was the one breaking character now. Some of her own issues – many of which pre-dated her time as an escort and her relationship with Brett – echoed through her voice. They sounded like the musings of a woman who could get as much sex as she wanted because of her beauty, but struggled to find true satisfaction.

Brett must have sensed that sentiment in her because he took on a more serious demeanor. That fake bravado he’d shown as Mr. Studman faded. Suddenly, he became more professional. However, he did not have the look of a licensed therapist or her loving husband. He had the look of a skilled gigolo.

“It’s funny. I’ve known many women who’ve told me their wants and needs,” Brett said, gently stroking the side of her face. “Most of them struggle to know the difference between the two.”

“Am I one of them?” Glory asked, already sounding desperate with desire.

“No. You’re not.”

Upon saying those words, he broke their intimate embrace and got up from the bed. Glory remained sitting, watching with curiosity and anticipation as her husband-turned-gigolo stood before her.

Then, like the star attraction at a male strip club, he seductively slipped out of his leather jacket and took off the tight-fitting shirt that barely contained his masculine features. Even in the bland lighting of the hotel room, the sight of his chiseled upper body triggered all sorts of arousing feelings within her. The way he carried himself, knowing he had the features that got a woman’s juices flowing, made Glory gaze up at him with a mix of awe and hunger.

“I’ve got the skills and tools to give you want you want and need,” he told her, “and I’m going to give it to you. You have my word.”

At that moment, the line between her husband and the role he played blurred. She’d heard that tone and that claim before, mostly because she’d said the same thing to her clients as well. He’d been one of them, but the circumstances had been unusual, to say the least. That ended up working out for them, though, and not just because they went onto get married.

“Well,” Glory said, already enchanted by his overt sex appeal, “what are you waiting for, Mr. Studman? Show me how a professional fucks!”

With a coy grin and a determined glint in his eye, Brett provided the service she’d solicited. Unlike her many other sexual encounters, she had no doubts about how it would play out. She was going to get fucked and she was going to get fucked by real stud.

He quickly demonstrated his keen understanding of arousing a woman, leaning in and kissing her hungrily on the lips, allowing her to explore the sinews of his upper body. He must have slathered himself with two bottles of baby oil because his skin was so smooth. It gave him the feel and scent of something polished and refined, which boded well for the fucking they were about to do.

As she pawed his upper body, Brett loosened her clothes. Glory was used to wearing something fancy and sexy during her hotel encounters. Instead, she’d worn the same attire she used to go shopping, which consisted of a T-shirt, jeans, and sandals. It was strange wearing something that wasn’t overly seductive, for once, but that only gave her more incentive to get it off.

“Let’s get you out of these dirty clothes,” Brett whispered into her ear with his deep, masculine tone.

Her inner thighs got 10 degrees hotter on the spot. He couldn’t remove her shirt and jeans fast enough. Once in her bra and panties, he crawled onto the bed with her, taking her by the waist and guiding her to the center.

From there, he lavished her with intimate kissing, touching, and fondling, the likes of which showed both a fondness and an understanding of the female body. It didn’t just heighten her physical arousal. It sent her into a state of pure sexual arousal. She didn’t need to think dirty thoughts or imagine the things that turned her on. Brett, being the professional stud, did that all by himself.

“Oohhh Mr. Studman!” she purred. “You’re making me…so hot and wet.”

“Then, I’m doing my job,” Brett quipped with a grin.

Not losing focus for an instant, he finished stripping her naked. While kissing her neck, he reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. He didn’t fumble awkwardly like so many men. He also didn’t get overly-distracted at the sight of her large, well-shaped breasts. He still admired them, as any straight man would.

“Such nice, natural breasts,” he commented.

“How do you know they’re natural?” she teased.

“Trust me. I know.”

Glory snickered and purred some more as Brett buried his face in her ample cleavage. She didn’t doubt he knew real breasts from fake breasts and not just because he married her. He’d seen and felt more breasts than most men, even those who considered themselves unapologetic pussy hounds. His reasons for knowing, however, were less crude and indirectly related to how they came together.

As he shoved his face between her breasts, he skillfully slipped his hands down to her waist, gasped the sides of her panties, and slid them down her legs. They had since become wet with arousal. Glory couldn’t remember the last time she got so horny that she soaked her panties. Already, their elaborate role reversal was paying off.

“You weren’t kidding,” Brett said upon tossing her panties aside. “You are one wet, horny woman.”

“Like I said…I want this. I need this,” Glory said intently.

“Then, I’ll skip the part where I sweet-talk you into a frenzy and employ my more intimate talents.”

She already knew what that entailed. That didn’t matter. She was still more excited than she’d been since their honeymoon.

He gave her breasts one final squeeze and her lips one final kiss before rising into an upright position. Hovering over her, he looked like a titan of masculinity hovering over her. Glory was so used to being the center of the sexual universe during intimate moments, especially those occurring in hotel rooms. It was pretty jarring to be on the other side…jarring, but exciting.

Still carrying himself with the poise of a professional gigolo, he grabbed her by the thighs and pushed her legs apart, exposing her dripping-wet pussy to him. She then watched as he licked his lips, eying her inner thighs as though they were his favorite treat. Then, without hesitation or intimidation, he buried himself in her womanhood and began giving her oral sex.

“Ohhh fuck!” Glory gasped. “My pussy…your lips…ooh it feels so good!”

Brett responded with a simple grunt. That was all he needed to say. He was a professional. He knew how to eat a woman out. Like a skilled surgeon, he performed his task to perfection.

It was like getting a perfect massage from the inside out. Glory closed her eyes, grasped her breasts as she often did in blissful states, and arched her back as Brett stimulated her most intimate areas to the utmost. Once again, his knowledge and respect for female anatomy was uncanny. He knew the difference between a clit and a G-spot. He knew where all the right nerves were, including the ones that were hard to reach. He didn’t just get most of them. He got all of them.

It sent her to the brink of orgasm faster than sex act that didn’t involve an overpriced vibrator. She would’ve preferred to test her husband/gigolo’s skills, but the blissful results made that impossible.

“Oh Mr. Studman! I…I’m coming!” she gasped.

“Already?” he said, looking up from her snatch briefly. “We’re off to a good start!”

He remained intently focused as he pumped his fingers into her folds, applying extra pressure to her clit. That got her over the edge with ease. There was no need to fake it or pretend it was more intense than it was. She was having an orgasm…a real, intense orgasm.

With theatrics befitting of a former escort, Glory curled her toes and threw her head back as the ripples of pleasure shot up through her body. Brett kept his hands on her thighs, maintaining his grip on her as she soaked in the ecstasy. She made it a point to be extra vocal, letting out the kind of orgasmic moan that echoed throughout the hotel suite and informed her husband that he was playing his role perfectly.

“You’re very loud when you climax. Is that normal?” he teased, leaning in and caressing her face as she bathed in pleasure.

“That…depends,” Glory said breathlessly.

“On what?”

“On just how dedicated…my lover happens to be.”

As her inner muscles continued throbbing from her release, she opened her eyes and cast her love/gigolo a sexy grin. He smiled back, looking bolder and more determined than ever. Knowing Brett, an overachiever and a show-off, she was already excited by the prospects.

While she caught her breath from her first orgasm, he rose up briefly and took off his pants. In doing so, he revealed a fully-erect penis that must have felt very uncomfortable in those tight pants of his. Even though Glory had seen her husband’s dick, as well as many other dicks during her escorting days, she still marveled at the sight.

“Mr. Studman…so big and hard,” she said, her gaze narrowing on his manly flesh.

“What can I say? Stripping a beautiful woman naked and eating her pussy out makes me horny,” Brett said playfully.

“Spoken like someone who enjoys his work,” she pointed out.

“Part of becoming a pro is enjoying the process. Now, lie back while I demonstrate the extent of my professionalism!”

Just like that – that manly gaze, that confident demeanor, and that beautiful manly body that was now fully exposed – Glory was horny again. She didn’t care that her pussy was still tender after such a quality orgasm. She wanted sex. Moreover, she wanted the sex that only Brett, aka Mr. Studman, could give her.

“Please, Mr. Studman…take me,” Glory told him as she laid back and spread her legs.

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “From here on out, you’re getting everything you want and need. I’ll make sure of it!”

From there, a potent mix of intense horniness and determined desire took over. Brett, still focused and dedicated to his role as a gigolo, got on top of her and grabbed hold of her hips. Glory instinctively hooked her legs around his waist, grabbing onto his shoulder and neck as she braced herself for the coming feeling.

Brett didn’t make her wait a nanosecond longer than she had to. As soon as he aligned his body with hers, he thrust his hips forward, driving his rigid flesh up into her vagina. As soon as his flesh filled her, he began moving their bodies in a smooth, sensual rhythm. A steady surge of raw sexual sensations followed, sending Glory into a sexual frenzy.

“Ohhh fuck yes!” she cried out. “That’s it! This is what I want!”

“And need,” he whispered in a voice so manly she almost came on the spot.

There was nothing fancy or novel about the act. It was sex, her and her husband, humping in a simple missionary position the likes of which they’d done many times before. The act, however, didn’t do justice to the feeling.

As she buried her face in her husband’s neck, listening to him grunt and moan with each hump, Glory soaked in the unique feeling that accompanied the intimate sensations. Having had more sex than most, both in her personal life and during her time as an escort, she was familiar with the many forms that feeling took.

Sometimes, it was just two horny people fucking each other, looking to get off and enjoy themselves. She’d done plenty of that.

Sometimes, it was two people in love wanting to express that love in an intimate, affectionate way. She’d done plenty of that too, especially after she married Brett.

Most of the time, though, sex was a mixed bag. There were times when men just laid her down and fucked her like a pussy with limbs. There were times when men were genuinely considerate, wanting to make love to her and please her as though she were some sort of sex goddess. Both kinds of sex could be enjoyable, but it was rare for it to find a perfect balance between the two.

Then, she met Brett. He understood that balance as much as her. He loved it as much as she did. In that moment, him acting like a professional gigolo and her acting like some horny woman who just wanted to get laid, the power of that balance was on full display.

“Yes! Oohhh Mr. Studman…so good! That feels…so good!” Glory moaned from her intimate daze.

“Oh God…you’re a pro too!” Brett said with a grunt.

As their bodies rocked to the rhythm of his humping motions, he kissed her passionately on the lips. It broke character for a moment, the love of her husband mixing into the sex with a highly-skilled stud. It intensified that uniquely balanced feeling, filling her with a perfect blend of love and lust.

Brett made the most of that feeling, using it to complement his role as a professional gigolo. Using the king-sized bed to their full advantage, he fucked her as thoroughly as any man could fuck a beautiful woman, be it a wife or a whore. He set the tone and pace of the sex, shifting and guiding their bodies through a succession of positions. Again, they kept things simple. She didn’t have to test her flexibility or endurance. She just hung on and enjoyed the ride.

They kept things simple at first, alternating between various forms of missionary. Then, he turned her over a few times and did her doggy style, getting her on her hands and knees for a while. He also bent her over the edge of the bed at one point, daring to have a little fun with their sex. As any successful escort knew, part of being professional was daring to play around at times.

Brett didn’t do all the work, though. On a few times, Glory found herself on top, riding his cock while used those powerful arms of his to supplement her movements. That didn’t just mix things up, sexually. It gave her a chance to really express the desires she’d hoped to explore in their roles. By being the horny client for once, she could be a little reckless with her passions. It was so freeing, being able to ditch the script she’d so often followed with sex.

“Again!” she cried out. “I’m coming again! Oohhh Mr. Studman!”

That became a common refrain throughout the act. Glory had hoped to enjoy multiple orgasms from their kinky little scenario, but she exceeded her own expectations. She hadn’t had so many orgasms in such rapid succession since her best friend’s bachelorette party and that involved vibrators. The fact that Brett – the man she married, who just happened to be very good at playing the role of a gigolo – gave her such pleasure made it all the more meaningful.

Like a true professional and a dedicated husband, he kept fucking her at a steady pace that allowed him to draw it out. That wasn’t just for her pleasure. That was what escorts did in order to maximize the satisfaction of the client. Glory thought she understood that. Now, she appreciated it even more.

“Mr. Studman…what a man! What a stud!” she moaned in her daze.

“You ready…for this stud…to top you off?” he said, his every word echoing with labored grunts.

“Yes!” Glory said without hesitation. “Please…give it to me.”

It must have sounded so daunting. By now, they had worked up quite a sweat. Their naked skin glistened under the light, the sheets beneath them wrinkled and tattered. It must have been strenuous to Brett to hold back for so long. Even though he was capable of popping multiple loads during a single sex act, he held back for her. That was what a professional did. For the final round of their sexy role playing, though, she needed both the stud and her husband.

For the final push, he led her back to the center of the bed. There, he once again demonstrated his masculine strength, lifting her up in his arms and holding her in an upright position. She eagerly went along with it, hooking her legs around his waist and digging the balls of her feet into her lower back. With his knees propped up on the bed and his hands firmly gripping her butt, he steadily bounced her up and down the length of his cock. That position didn’t just help him penetrate her depths at just the right angle. It allowed their eyes to meet for that final moment.

“My stud…my wonderful, handsome stud,” Glory said as he gazed back at her.

“My beautiful, wonderful wife,” Brett said.

Again, he broke character. She was beyond caring at that point, though. Thanks to his uncanny strength and his dedication to satisfying her to the utmost, Brett rocked their bodies in heavy fervor of humping. He was careful and thorough, working his manhood inside her at just the right pace to ensure they climaxed at the same time.

She had no idea how he knew. Glory used to joke with her friends and fellow escorts that simultaneous orgasms were as big a myth as the G-spot. Brett proved her wrong, time and again. At the moment they finally climaxed together, she’d never been so grateful to be so wrong about something sexual.

“Ohhhh fuck yes!” they both cried out, almost in perfect harmony.

It would’ve been funny if it didn’t feel so damn good. When it hit, Brett squeezed her ass firmly and buried his face in her breasts, gasping as he released a thick load of his cum into her pussy. At the same time, Glory dug her nails into his shoulders and threw her head back in an act of ecstasy. That extra hot feeling of his juices mixing with hers helped supplement the feeling, providing that special bit of intimacy that she could only share with her husband.

Glory wasn’t sure if what they’d just done counted as irony or kink. A former escort playing the part of a client might have been a simple role reversal on paper, but something about it conjured a unique feeling that encapsulated how far she’d come and how lucky she was to have found a lover like Brett.

“Another…satisfied customer,” he said breathlessly, his head still resting on her breasts.

“Satisfied indeed, Mr. Studman,” Glory said with a grin.

“You can…call me Brett, now.”

“I know. Mr. Studman just sounds better right now.”

He looked up from her breasts and smiled back. They then shared a loving kiss, having broken from their roles and returned to just being a happily married couple.

Their naked bodies finally parted. Still naked and sweaty, they laid back on the bed together, catching their breath and soaking in the afterglow. Glory remained curled up to her husband, his arm still lovingly draped around her. Given their respective backgrounds, she and Brett had come up with all sorts of ways to spice up their sex life. After what they just did, she could safely say she’d found her favorite type of role playing.

“God, I love you,” Glory said.

“I know. I love you too, Gloria,” said Brett.

“I got to say, it’s pretty strange…being on this side of the escorting equation.”

“That, it is,” he admitted. “Then again, we didn’t exactly tweak too many kinks.”

“I know. I mean between a former escort turned therapist and an actor who hired me to research a part…I’d say the details are plenty strange.”

“Guess we just found a way to make those strange kinks work for us.”

“That, we did…Mr. Studman.”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Weekly Relief” A Sexy Short Story

couple-in-bed

The following is a sexy short story that I wrote after reading some stories about online dating and how future services will help us find our match. I consider this a thought experiment, of sorts, into just how good those services could be in the future and just how much it can help our sex lives. Enjoy!

“It’s Thursday, Olivia. You know what that means,” said a familiar, coy voice.

“I know the drill, Iris,” Olivia replied dryly to the middle-aged receptionist. “We all do.”

Rolling her eyes, but still smiling, the young woman made her way to the designated locker room of the unremarkable public access facility, as it was called. From the outside, it looked like most other bland commercial buildings that dotted the downtown area. The only difference – superficially speaking – was that the outer plaza and lobby was adorned with emblems identifying it as a government building. For what went on inside, it had to be.

Olivia June didn’t give it much thought, anymore. She hadn’t since she began going to the facility as a teenager. Most of her friends and peers did the same. It had gotten so mundane that it was just normal, as much a part of their routine as buying groceries or paying taxes. Most would argue, however, that coming to that particular building was much less tedious.

“I need this,” she said to herself with a heavy sigh, “more so than usual.”

Upon entering the locker room, she quickly located an unused locker and got undressed. Still wearing the uniform she’d worn to private school she worked at, it felt good to get it off. She’d come at a good time, as well. There were only a handful of other women in the locker room. She’d been there when it was bustling with at least two dozen women. Given the nature of what went on at “public access facilities,” it could get pretty hectic.

Olivia preferred to avoid that kind of chaos, especially after the week she’d endured. Everyone came to such facilities for a certain kind of relief, but she needed it more than most.

“Between spring orientation and night classes, I think I’ve managed well,” she said as she folded her uniform and underwear. “There’s always room for improvement, though. This is just the most basic.”

Smiling to herself, Olivia moved with more urgency than usual. Upon storing her clothes, she closed the locker and secured it. She then made her way out to the staging area, as everyone called it. She didn’t even bother getting a towel or robe, as many women preferred. Some women preferred to maintain some level of modesty while getting relief. Others didn’t. Olivia had never been that modest about her body so she usually didn’t bother.

Along the way, she passed by a few other women. Most were naked with only one opting to wear a towel. They weren’t in any hurry, chatting and lofting about as many often did before an appointment. Olivia, being more impatient than usual, went ahead and cut in front of them.

“Hey! Take it easy there,” an older woman said. “It’s not a fucking race.”

“Speak for yourself,” Olivia quipped, “and be careful with your choice of words.”

“Ooh! After that, she deserves to cut ahead,” another woman said with a laugh.

“Oh grow up,” the older woman groaned. “You don’t know how good you have it, getting a service like this straight from the government. You would’ve gone nuts if you’d had to get it the old fashioned way.”

“Which is why nostalgia is overrated,” Olivia said, now walking faster. “You ladies can take your time. I’ve got too many needs and too little patience!”

She managed to get away before the other women could berate her more. That wasn’t the first time someone remarked at how good young women like her had it. Her grandmother mentioned that every time she visited, telling stories about a world where a young woman like her couldn’t get the kind of relief she sought with such regular ease.

Olivia didn’t care for those stories, nor did she care to think about how hard it would’ve been in years past. Her primary focus was on the present. Being naked had already sent her body plenty of telling signals. She could already feel some of them manifesting between her legs. It knew that relief was near.

Upon getting to the front of the line, which had been very short, Olivia entered the staging area. From there, she accessed a small tablet computer mounted at a kiosk. She entered her name, as she’d done many times before, and opened the private profile that she’d since refined to the utmost.

“No need for something fancy this time,” she said. “Just find me someone who can get the job done.”

Her fingers moved quickly as she entered the necessary parameters. After entering her biometrics, which included a fingerprint and eye-scan, the computer processed her data. Within a few seconds, it gave her the message she’d been hoping for.

“Match secure and determined,” the computer said in a robotic voice. “Your partner is located in room 3C.”

“Thank you Intimate Data Net,” Olivia said as she exited the staging area. “What would any of us do without you?”

That was a rhetorical question for most people her age. Few outside the elderly knew what life was like before the Intimate Data Net – or IDN, as most called it. From birth, they fed it data about themselves. Beyond their wants, hopes, and desires, they gave it everything from DNA samples to detailed brain scans. It allowed the government-maintained census network to both protect their identity as citizens and provide them with customized services.

Olivia had come to appreciate those services more than most and not just because she worked for a school that catered to all sorts of patrons. She’d learned at an early age that when it came to fulfilling certain needs, such services were critical.

“3C…3C…where is it?” she wondered as she navigated the facility.

Moving with urgency, Olivia made her way through a series of hallways that fed into the central portion of the building. The place was pretty big, but easy to navigate. It was no different than a hotel or office, consisting of several levels lined with numbered rooms. There were windows along the way, but they were all blacked out for obvious reasons. Given how most people walked through the halls bare-ass naked, it made sense.

Olivia didn’t care, though. She’d never been shy about nudity. Most people her age weren’t. She really didn’t understand why some people made such a big deal of it. Then again, those same people might just not know or appreciate the value of getting such critical, personalized service.

With every step she took, the heat between her legs intensified. The air around felt so hot. The building often kept the temperature high – likely, another byproduct of having so many naked people running around. However, the heat she felt had nothing to do with the ventilation. The relief she sought kept getting more urgent. Olivia could already feel her naked skin breaking out into a light sweat.

She practically running by the time she reached the south wing of the building. After ascending a flight of stairs and passing through a couple corridors, she finally located her destination.

“There it is! Room 3C,” she said. “I hope he didn’t start without me.”

Grinning in anticipation, Olivia opened the door and entered the room. Just as she’d hoped, the partner that the IDN had matched her with was already there and once again, the system’s ability to serve personal needs astonished her.

Through whatever data mining and intimate analysis it utilized, it somehow found her a very attractive man with which she could fulfill those needs. He was about as tall as her, having messy dark hair, tanned skin, and an athletic build. Like her, he was completely naked. He made no effort to hide his physique or the generous endowment hanging between his legs, either. If his semi-aroused state were any indication, he was just as anxious as her.

“Hello, ma’am! You must be my match today,” he said. “I’m Patrick Gunther.”

“Olivia June,” she greeted. “It’s always a pleasure to meet my match…and then some.”

“Well said,” he chuckled. “I’m hoping the IDN was extra thorough this time. Just so you know, I’ve been really tense this past week.”

“Guess the IDN definitely did its job because that makes two of us!”

Olivia opted to skip the small talk that often coincided with other matches. She closed the door behind her, walked up to him, and readily embraced him in her arms, letting her naked body press up against his.

The grin on his face widened and the manly flesh between his legs stiffened. He didn’t waste time feeling her up, either. As soon as her breasts made contact with his chest, he grabbed hold of her butt and gave it a firm squeeze, communicating a desire that Olivia already knew they shared.

“A nice, handsome man…some strong, muscular arms…and a big, throbbing dick to go with it,” Olivia said with a purr. “It’s just what I need!”

“You and me both, Ms. June,” Patrick said, “except I need a firm butt, big tits, and a tight pussy.”

“Then, I guess we can help each other.”

Olivia playfully teased him, slipping her arms around his neck and giving him an intimate kiss on the lips. Patrick eagerly kissed back, throwing in a little tongue while squeezing her butt.

He might have been a total stranger, but kissing him felt like kissing a man she’d been with for years. That was the power of the IDN. It could match people so thoroughly that they could walk into a room naked, greet each other, and kiss as though they were long-lost lovers. That feeling, alone, was an exhilarating experience that filled some aspects of her needs. However, others required a more direct approach.

“So,” Olivia said upon breaking the kiss, “your profile said you love oral, both giving and receiving.”

“That, I do,” Patrick said proudly. “Few things make my day more than getting my dick sucked while I gorge on a wet, willing pussy.”

“Then, we’re already halfway there,” she said curtly. “You probably saw this on my profile too, but I like it a little rough. Don’t be too gentle with me. Once that dick is in me, go to down and rock my world!”

“Sounds like a plan,” he replied with a grin. “Want to start with a little shared oral?”

“Gladly!”

Olivia gave her match a grin of her own before following him to the bed in the corner of the room. Like most other rooms in the building, there wasn’t much in terms of furniture. The room was basically a dorm with one queen-sized bed, some night-stands full with personalized accessories, and a bathroom. Some rooms had more elaborate features for those with more elaborate needs. For her and Patrick, though, they didn’t need much beyond the basics.

Already laughing and exchanging intimate gestures, Olivia got onto the bed with Patrick. Some brief foreplay followed, consisting mostly of some deep kissing and intimate touching. He squeezed her butt and fondled her breasts. She trailed her fingers over the sinews of his chest while rubbing her thigh against his cock, which helped get him fully erect.

Olivia usually enjoyed drawing out the foreplay, but she was too horny and too impatient. Her pussy was already aching for more stimulation. Patrick had already proved he knew how to use those lips of his. She was eager to test those skills.

“Mind if I be on top?” Olivia asked.

“By all means, Ms. June,” Patrick replied in an overly-polite tone.

“We’re about to lick each other’s genitals and have sex, Patrick. You can skip the formalities, Patrick.” she joked.

“I could, but I’d rather not. It’s just the kind of guy I am.”

Olivia laughed and so did he. She couldn’t tell if he was being serious or cute. Most men didn’t get too playful during a match. They were usually focused on sating their needs. As someone who often adopted the same approach, she found it refreshing.

That gave her some extra incentive as they coordinated their bodies. Patrick maneuvered into the center of the bed and laid down on his back. Olivia then got on top of him, aligning her pussy with his face while she hovered right over his erect penis. It was a perfect 69 position, an underrated sex act that she didn’t often get to explore.

“Wow! Your pussy is pretty wet,” Patrick commented. “You might need this as much as I do.”

Might need?” she teased.

“Well, there’s one obvious way to find out.”

As if to prove the extent of his lust, Patrick went to work and hungrily gorged on her pussy. He wasn’t subtle about it, either. Using both hands with surprising skill, lightly spreading her folds so that he could probe her depths with his tongue. Almost immediately, Olivia felt the effects and the pleasure that came with it.

“Ooh!” she purred. “Patrick…I like your ways!”

The competitive part of her kicked in, compounding her own burning lust. Following Patrick’s example, Olivia skipped the teasing and began demonstrating her own oral talents.

She gripped the base of his cock with both hands, giving it a few strokes before taking almost his entire length into her mouth. She heard him grunt in response. That must have been his way of showing that he was impressed by how she’d mastered her gag reflex. That, or his voice was muffled by her pussy. Either way, she got the message.

“Mmm…I bet you like my ways too,” Olivia said seductively as she licked along his length.

Patrick didn’t tear himself away from her pussy, his lips and tongue still buried in her folds. He was already flooding her with hot sensations. She worked to catch up, sucking and stroking his member with a sexual hunger she’d usually reserved for her personal life. Before long, there was no banter or teasing. There was only the moans, grunts, and slurping noises associated with oral sex.

It quickly became a race to greater ecstasy, him skillfully eating out her pussy while she skillfully sucked his dick. He showed both a knowledge and a fondness for female anatomy, really getting in deep and stimulating those extra-sensitive areas that made Olivia shudder with bliss. It put her on the fast-track to orgasm. Even for an IDN match, it was pretty remarkable.

She tried to return the favor by showing how much she loved the taste of a good cock, licking and slurping along his rigid length as though it were her favorite treat. The feeling of his hard, throbbing man-flesh around her lips was so intimate and hot. She’d never hid her fondness of that taste, but no one had given her so much incentive to savor it. Patrick just had that effect on her, going above and beyond that of most matches.

As much as she tried to keep up, though, her intense desire for a release proved too great. All that stimulation within her most sensitive areas sent her to the brink of ecstasy. Race or no race, her needs converged with the wonders of female biology.

“Ohhh Patrick!” she gasped, having to cease her oral sex as her climax approached. “I’m going to…going to…come!”

“Already?” he said. “Guess we just found out.”

He kept the stimulation coming, using his fingers and tongue to carry her over the edge and into the sea of euphoria that awaited. In that moment, the relief she sought manifested in an intense, tangible feeling.

The feeling washed over her like a wave at the beach on a hot summer day. Surges of heat and pleasure ripped through her body, causing her toes to curl and her back to arch. Her pussy throbbed in accord with each wave, like a drum beat to the euphoria. Olivia wasn’t usually that animated during orgasm, but she gladly made an exception.

Patrick didn’t seem to mind, though. He didn’t mind licking up her feminine juices, either. He really did love oral sex. She shouldn’t have been too surprised, given what his profile revealed through the IDN. It still didn’t do justice to the feeling he gave her.

“That was just what I needed…almost,” Olivia said breathlessly, her mind still swimming in bliss.

“Almost?” Patrick questioned.

“Of course,” she said seductively. “You didn’t think…it would be that easy, did you?”

Following her lingering desires, Olivia rose up off him and crawled to the edge of the bed, remaining on all fours so that he had a perfect view of her butt and her still-dripping pussy. She then playfully twerked her hips, as if to invite him in for more pleasure.

“You’ve proven you love oral,” Olivia said. “Now prove you love pumping a pussy with your cock.”

“You really want me to prove that?” he asked curly.

“Among other things,” she quipped. “Plus, I’m better with my pussy than I am with my lips!”

“Is that a tease or a dare?”

“Well, like you said, there’s one obvious way to find out,” she said, mirroring his words and tone from earlier.

Patrick didn’t need any further convincing. Still wielding a rock-hard dick and plenty of unmet needs of his own, he shot up from the bed and positioned himself behind her. She could feel the intensity of his lust in the way he grabbed her by the waist, aligned her butt with his pelvis, and guided his dick to her pussy. Like a thirsty animal approaching a crystal-clear stream, he craved relief every bit as much as her.

“That’s it,” Olivia said, goading him with her tone and gaze. “Do it! Fuck me as much as you need…and then some.”

“And then some…right,” Patrick said with a manly grin.

He must have taken that as a dare because as soon as he entered her, Olivia’s world started rocking. It started with a single hard thrust, his rigid manhood plunging into her vagina, which was moist from her orgasm. Their flesh united so seamlessly, once again reflecting how well the IDN had matched them. From there, an outburst of lust, desire, and humping followed.

“Oohhh yeah!” Patrick moaned. “You…you’re right! Your pussy…so hot and tight!”

“That’s it! Do it harder! Fuck me harder!” Olivia urged. “Let me give you want you need!”

He eagerly accepted her invitation, tightening his grip on her hips as he intensified the rhythm. Freed from restraint, Patrick unleashed the full breadth of his lust, pumping his cock into her with reckless abandon. His every moan and grunt echoed with the savory bliss of a man fulfilling his most fundamental desires.

Olivia loved hearing those grunts, especially from a man who’d just given her an orgasm. The bed shook as their bodies moved in a heated outburst of sexual energy. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her butt filled the room, along with a steady stream of grunts and moans. She just held onto the edge of the bed, bucking her hips and tensing her inner muscles with each thrust. With every movement came raw, chaotic sensations of ecstasy.

It was not the tender, affectionate brand of sex. There was a time and place for that sort of thing. Neither she nor Patrick were in that frame of mind. They knew what they needed and the IDN matched them with each other to meet those needs. It was a beautiful, blissful thing.

“This is it,” Olivia said within her lustful daze, “this feeling…coming together…this is why it’s so important.”

Closing her eyes and smiling like a drunk, she let out an extra-loud string of moans that further encouraged Patrick. As he kept fucking her, he shifted his grip to her breasts, giving them a nice squeeze as the bed shook harder. It further supplemented the sensations, sending her to the brink of another orgasm. She wasn’t as vocal about it before, but she couldn’t exactly hide it when her body shuddered once more from the pleasure.

“You came again, didn’t you?” Patrick said into her ear. “That’s good. The more my lady comes…the harder I come!”

Like a man on a mission, he stepped up the pace of their sex. He withdrew from her briefly, turned her over, and laid her down on her back, hitching her legs over his shoulders in the process. From there, he entered her again and resumed his heated humping, now really putting his legs and back into it. Olivia, her body already swimming in a sea of bliss, just clung to the bed sheets and held on for the ride.

It was like pent up steam, unleashed after being pent up and contained for too long. It shouldn’t have felt that long. She’d been at the same facility a week ago where the IDN matched her with another man who’d given her simple, unrushed sex. Most of the time, it was enough. Sometimes, she needed more. On rare, special occasions, though, her match went above and beyond.

“You feel that, Ms. June? I’m close…real close!” Patrick seethed, his eyes now locked on hers. “Hold on! I’m going to…let it all out!”

“Yes, Patrick! Do it…let it out…inside me!” Olivia moaned through heavy panting.

She watched as the handsome man’s face tensed in anticipation of his release. She urged him on with her seductive gaze, encouraging him to satisfy all those burning desires and then some.

Their naked bodies – now glistening with sweat, a natural byproduct of such heated sex – moved together in one last sprint towards the finish. Olivia supplemented his every thrust, shifting her body in accord with the intimate rhythm. That helped guide Patrick to the brink and beyond, finally achieving that badly-needed release.

“Ohhh I’m coming!” he exclaimed.

It was like the finale to a fireworks show, watching the determined man on top of her throw his head back and let out a cry of ecstasy and triumph. She admired every second of it while enjoying the extra feelings that came with it.

Olivia purred softly as she felt his manly fluids mix with her feminine juices. His member tensed within her inner folds, her inner muscles contracting hard as he released his load. She loved that hot, intimate feeling of a man’s cum filling her pussy. There was something about it that just made the feeling more satisfying.

Some older woman still thought that was weird, though. Olivia didn’t understand that. It wasn’t like every woman her age didn’t have a customizable implant that gave them total control over their fertility. She’d heard a few horror stories about the old days for when women had to rely on less effective methods, but that was the past. She wanted to enjoy the present.

With Patrick, there was plenty to enjoy and she made sure he got his share. She lingered with him, their naked bodies entwined as they caught their breath. When the orgasmic process concluded, Patrick cast her an affectionate grin.

“We…really needed that,” he told her.

“Yeah…we did,” Olivia said, smiling back.

“I’m still not sure who needed it more, though.”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell no!”

They shared a good laugh and an affectionate kiss. After their lips parted, Patrick withdrew from her and laid down next to her. Olivia remained on her back, feeling so relaxed and refreshed she was practically glowing. It was just the kind of fulfillment she’d sought. She shuddered to think how she’d keep her sanity without that feeling.

“You know, it’s times like this I feel grateful,” she said as she curled up to her equally-satisfied match.

“Tell me about it,” Patrick said with a content sigh. “Good sex is good for the mind, body, and everything in between!”

“I totally agree, but it’s not just that. I mean…we live in a world where there are places like this,” she went on, “simple, well-run facilities where the IDN can connect us with the people who can fulfill our most basic needs.”

“It sure as hell beats trying to find those people on our own. Makes me feel bad for my grandparents. I can’t imagine how they managed without it.”

“They did, but we don’t have to,” Olivia said, “and that makes it even more satisfying. We’ve got networks that can connect us with people who can satisfy us, places where we can meet, and nobody getting in our way of pursuing our desires.”

“What a world, huh?

“What a world, indeed. I don’t know what it was like before we could just walk into a building, enter our data, and get the great, satisfying sex that we need, but I’m so glad it’s a thing of the past!”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“The Promotion” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote about getting ahead in your career and celebrating it in the sexiest way possible. Enjoy!

“A new day, a new office, and a big promotion,” said Jonathan Zander with a beaming smile. “I’ve earned this!”

It was the culmination of a decade of toil. After working so hard for the most prominent investment firm in the state, he had achieved something that had once seemed impossible. He started as an intern, getting people coffee, printing out presentations, and organizing meetings for low pay and no overtime. Now, he was a full-fledged executive director, complete with a yearly bonus, his own parking spot, and a private office.

It might not have been the biggest office in the building, but it was still a major step up from the cramped cubical he’d worked in as an intern. It had once belonged to his supervisor, who had mentored him for the past seven years. He had since retired and was instrumental in helping Jonathan get the promotion. The office had been empty for over a month, but he intended to make it distinctly his.

“I’ll put my diploma over there,” Jonathan said to himself, pointing out blank spaces on the wall, “and that picture of me and my dad at the Super Bowl will go there. I can maybe get some artwork from my sister if she has any, but I can just as easily get some from that convention next week. And this time, I’ll actually be able to afford it!”

He kept on smiling, even as he set his box of personal effects on the large mahogany desk. He was still getting used to the idea of not being underpaid. He’d spent the last decade paying down his student loan debts and living frugally in rented apartments with unreliable roommates. That was about to change. Jonathan already planned to move into his own place by the end of the month. That was just the beginning.

“With a fat bonus comes a new suite, better furniture, and maybe even a new car at some point,” Jonathan said to himself, his mind still racing from all the exciting possibilities. “It will be nice to actually drive to work in something that isn’t 12 years old and bought at a discount from my grandfather.”

He’d worked so hard to find success doing what he loved. He intended to enjoy the hell out of it.

As an executive, there was no dead end to his job. Jonathan was no longer just some replaceable office grunt. He had influence, authority, and flexibility. He could help direct the company forward and reap the inevitable rewards. That was what he had wanted after seeing his father toil with the post office for decades. He sought more and he was willing to work for it.

There would be plenty of time for that later on, though. At the moment, it was Friday evening and most of the staff had already left for the day. Jonathan was tempted to join them, but opted to get a head start on setting up his new work space. He was too excited to just go home and wait for the next phase of his career to begin. Looking out his window, which had an awesome view of the park space just outside the building, he marveled at how far he had come.

“All that hard work…the late nights, the impossible deadlines, and the coffee enemas…I did way more than I thought I could do,” Jonathan mused. “My dad told me that hard work can’t just be for the sake of working. It has to be for something greater. Guess it’s up to me to figure out how great it’ll be.”

That was still the most daunting prospect of his new job. Jonathan had spent so much time working for others. The idea that others would work for him in the name of his vision for the company still hadn’t sunk in. He had to adjust quickly because there was plenty more he hoped to achieve.

“Excuse me, Mr. Zander?” said an unexpected female voice. “Do you have a moment?”

Jonathan turned around to see a young woman standing in the doorway to his new office. She looked like one of those cute secretaries the old CEO loved to hire, complete with a low-cut skirt, polished heels, and a blouse that seemed a size too small. Never one to turn away from a pretty girl, he welcomed her in.

“Sure,” he said to her. “Come on in. Are you one of Sheila Grant’s new assistance in HR?”

“No. I’m actually a…well, I guess you could call me an office temp,” she said coyly.

“Oh? What kind of temp?”

“The kind your old boss hired for the sole purpose of celebrating your promotion,” she told him.

Jonathan was taken aback, somewhat. He recognized the undertone in that woman’s voice. He had been to his share of bachelor parties to know what it implied. Upon seeing the woman close the door to his office behind her and lock it, he began filling in the blanks.

It seemed outrageous. He’d heard rumors about certain people hiring strippers and prostitutes for executives, but Jonathan thought they were just perverse water cooler talk. Now that he was an executive, though, those rumors took on a very different meaning.

“My name is Daisy,” the woman continued. “I guess you could call me a ‘personal motivator.’ I specialize in helping aspiring executives stay driven, so to speak.”

“That sounds…useful,” Jonathan said, not acknowledging the overt innuendo in her tone. “How exactly do you go about that?”

The young woman casually walked over to him, revealing in the process that the top part of her blouse was already unbuttoned, exposing her ample cleavage. It was, by no means, appropriate office attire. However, Jonathan felt little inclination to report her to HR. If anything, he had a feeling that his old supervisor had circumvented HR.

The way she walked did not imply that she had come directly from business school. The way she swayed her hips and glared at him with seductive eyes made it seem like she’d come right from a strip club. Knowing as that there was a strip club less than four blocks from the office, the possibilities were plenty feasible.

When she reached him, she stood so close that her ample breasts actually touched his chest. He could already smell the makeup, eye-liner, and high-end lipstick. Still standing by the window, Jonathan didn’t move in inch in any direction.

“I could spend the next half-hour explaining my unique talents,” Daisy told him, skillfully snaking her arms around his neck, “or I could just show you.”

“That might be optimal,” Jonathan said, already sounding like an executive. “In my experience, people learn by doing and not listening.”

“I couldn’t agree more. That’s why I think you’ll love my technique!”

The attractive young woman ditched the innuendo from that point and lured him into a kiss. As soon as her lips touched his, he was intoxicated by the intensely sensual taste. It was like tasting literal success, so sweet and rewarding. Whether or not Daisy was the literal manifestation of his success was a matter of perspective…one that he did not care to rationalize at the moment.

Kissing her did more than just affirm his success. It got all the blood in his body flowing in a certain direction. That reminded him that he was a healthy heterosexual man who hadn’t had time for a relationship. His work made finding love – or meaningless sex, for that matter – a challenge subject to serious time constraints. Having not known the intimate touch of a woman for a while, it was nothing short of refreshing.

“Mmm…I like it already!” Jonathan said after their lips parted.

“Oh I’m just getting started, Mr. Zander,” Daisy said, sounding sexy, yet serious. “Have a seat. The real presentation is about to begin!”

She kissed him again, snaking her arms around his neck in the process. He boldly returned the gesture, slipping his hands around her waist and feeling up her womanly curves over that not-so-modest dress of hers. As he felt her up, she guided him away from the window and towards his new desk. Jonathan offered no resistance, going along with Daisy’s unusual technique.

He soon found himself sitting on the edge of his desk, his legs dangling over as the young woman stood in front of him. His hands still on her waist, he could already feel his pants tightening. Daisy even seemed to realize that and grazed her thigh up against the growing bulge.

“Hold still,” she said upon breaking the kiss again. “This office getup is feeling very itchy.”

Then, her seductive gaze never once diverting from him, Daisy began taking off her clothes. She didn’t do it casually, either. She was slow and sensual, strategically unbuttoning her blouse so that he could watch her breasts steadily tumble out. She was just as subtle when she unzipped the back of her skirt, turned around, and casually slid it off down her thighs, revealing a red G-string thong that perfectly augmented her shapely butt.

It confirmed what Jonathan had suspected. She was a stripper, most likely one that his old boss had hired before for other executives. Given how comfortable she was stripping in a stranger’s office, Jonathan surmised she had done it before and gotten it down to a system.

“Well, that’s one way to deal with uncomfortable office clothes,” he joked.

“Speak for yourself, Mr. Casual-Friday,” Daisy teased while feeling up the in-seam of his custom-made suit.

“It’s not that bad,” he said, “although it does get a little confining when it’s this hot.”

“Well, in that case, why don’t I help with that?”

Jonathan didn’t say a word. He just cast her a goofy grin, which told her everything he needed to tell her. Looking quite comfortable in her bra and thong underwear, Daisy went to work undoing his belt, unzipping his pants, and pulling them down to his ankles, boxers and all.

His semi-erect manhood freed, Jonathan already felt a light sweat forming on his forehead. As Daisy narrowed her gaze on his lower anatomy, he quickly undid his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“Oh my,” she said playfully. “You keep that confined in those tight pants all day? You have earned this promotion!”

“I like to think that’s one of the reasons I’ve earned it,” he quipped.

“Well, it looks like it needs some professional attention. Lean back a bit and I’ll get the job done.”

“I look forward to seeing you demonstrate your skills.”

They both laughed at their shared tone. It resembled that of an executive and an assistant in a serious business meeting. It would’ve been cheesy if Jonathan didn’t enjoy it so much. He even found it extra arousing, although that might have just been a byproduct of not having sex for so long.

That wait was almost over, though. As he fumbled to get his shirt off, Daisy dropped to her knees and began giving him oral sex. She made it clear from the beginning, though, that she was a true pro.

“Oohhh, Ms. Daisy!” Jonathan moaned. “Your skills…they’re amazing!”

The beautiful woman glanced up at him, showing an eagerness and motivation that any executive could respect. She wanted his approval, just as he had wanted approval from his former boss and she really worked for it.

She was so thorough, grasping the base of his shaft with one hand while stroking the shaft with the other. She carefully, but fervently worked her lips along the length of his dick, using her tongue to stimulate all those sensitive areas. It felt so good, sending shudders of bliss coursing through his body.

Jonathan had barely managed to get his shirt off, now leaning back on his desk as he soaked in the feeling. He watched her work with such dedication. At one point, she released her grip on the base of his shaft and used it to undo her bra.

“Looks like I’ll need more advanced techniques,” Daisy said intently.

He just grinned back at her in approval, watching as those voluptuous breasts of hers hung free. He couldn’t tell whether they were real. He didn’t really care, though. Daisy showed that she knew how to use them, positioning his dick right between her fleshy mounds and using them to initiate a full-fledged tit-fuck.

“Ohhh yeah!” Jonathan moaned. “That feels…so advanced.”

“Like I said…I’m a professional,” Daisy said seductively.

Up and down, his manhood slid smoothly between her breasts. He still couldn’t determine whether they were natural or fake. He honestly couldn’t care less.

Blissful moans soon morphed into labored grunts. His dick went from just erect to rock hard. Daisy certainly took notice. She even seemed to take pride in it, being able to get a man that aroused with her tits and mouth. It was the mark of a true professional, which seemed quite fitting, given the circumstances.

“Wow! Talk about hard work paying off,” Daisy said.

“Hard…that’s for sure,” said Jonathan, already breathless.

“You worked just as hard to get here, Mr. Zander. Hard work should be rewarded. That’s what I intended to give you.”

“You mean you haven’t already?”

“Are you kidding? That was just the appetizer. Now, it’s time for the main course!”

With a lurid tone in her voice and a seductive glint in her eye, Daisy rose back to her feet and kicked off her heels. She then turned around, showing him that perfect ass of hers again, and slid off her thong.

Jonathan’s mouth watered at the sight of her butt and pussy. He even noticed that she was aroused, a sign that she was among the lucky few in the world who actually enjoyed her job. That didn’t just give them something in common. It put them on the same page.

“Tell me, Mr. Zander,” said Daisy, turning around and showing him all her naked glory. “How do you want to celebrate your promotion?”

“If I had to choose,” Jonathan said, already enchanted by the sight, “I’d pick you up in my arms, set you down on my fancy new desk, and fuck you until I came all over your tits.”

“Is that so?” she said curly. “Well, you’re in luck. That just happens to be my kind of celebrating!”

Now, it was Jonathan’s turn to grin playfully. Throwing aside his dress shirt and kicking off his overpriced shoes, the newly-minted executive got off the desk and seized the moment in the name of celebrating his success.

He slipped his arms around Daisy, savoring the feeling of her naked skin pressing up against his, and kissed her intently. She eagerly kissed back, jumping up into his arms and throwing her legs around his waist. He instinctively caught her, which also gave him a perfect grip on her butt. It left him feeling empowered, the flesh of a naked woman pressing meshing with his. Jonathan longed to exercise that power, celebrating the promotion that he worked so hard to earn.

As their lips and tongues twirled in their lustful embrace, he set her down on the polished desk in the exact position he’d been in moments ago. Daisy kept her legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to his shoulders as he positioned himself in front of her, aligning his dick with her wet entrance.

“You ready?” he asked her, his every word radiating with lust.

“Let the celebrating begin!” Daisy proclaimed.

Heeding her words, Jonathan grabbed hold of her waist and thrust his hips forward, driving his throbbing cock into her. In an instant, he felt the hot warmth of womanly flesh surrounding his manhood. The process was so smooth, his arousal complementing hers. They each let out a blissful moan. From there, they the real celebration began.

His feet planted firmly on the freshly-cleaned rug, Jonathan began humping the beautiful woman in his grasp. Together, their naked bodies rocked in a vigorous rhythm. Like a well-oiled piston, his cock pumped within her pussy. The sound of his pelvis smacking against hers filled the room, along with the light squeaking noise of the fancy desk. Something about that motivated him to intensify the movements, as though it were a manifestation of his hard work.

“Yes! Ohhh yes!” Daisy cried out. “That’s it! Fuck me! Fuck me like a big, strong executive! Ooh I’m coming already!”

She could’ve been faking it. She probably was, but she sure sounded convincing. Jonathan could feel her inner folds throbbing around his dick. The gasps turned to squeals. Rather than just cling to his shoulders, she dug her nails right into his skin. It strong, but in the best possible way.

Fake or not, Jonathan felt even more motivated. Shifting his hands from her waist to her thighs, he pushed he legs farther apart so he could thrust in deeper. He also kissed down her neck, tasting the light sweat that had already formed on her skin. More moans followed. It was like the sweetest music coupled with his favorite treat, the ultimate desert to go along with a momentous event.

“Daisy,” Jonathan grunted, “you like being fucked…by an executive?”

“Yes! I love it! I fucking love it!” she affirmed with surprising enthusiasm.

“Then that’s…how I’ll fuck you!”

In another show of his newfound authority, Jonathan withdrew his cock from her briefly so that he could reposition the naked woman in his grasp. With strength he didn’t remember having before he got promoted, he pulled her off the desk, turned her around, and bent her over so that her breasts were mashed up against the polished wood. Now facing that heart-shaped ass of hers, he thrust his cock back into her and resumed his vigorous humping.

“Oh yeah! Ohhh fuck yeah!” Jonathan seethed. “This…is how…an executive fucks!”

Daisy responded with more blissful moans. He already sounded like a new man, one far removed from the quiet intern he’d been ten years ago. He’d worked hard to become that man and he was already loving it.

Daisy must have loved it too. In fact, she seemed to have a fetish for powerful men in business. She kept loudly proclaiming that she was having an orgasm. The more she said it, the less certain he was that she was faking it. That might have been due to his position in a major company and not his sexual prowess, but Jonathan didn’t care. If he could celebrate his promotion and make a beautiful woman climax, then that was just an awesome bonus.

He worked just as hard to make their sex both memorable and momentous. As the desk shook and Daisy’s body rocked, Jonathan felt himself approaching his peak. It might have been the most intense peak he’d felt since his ex-girlfriend dressed up as a sexy librarian in college. It was like a volcano ready to erupt and, like his promotion, it required a little extra effort to achieve it.

“Daisy! I…I’m close!” he told her. “I’m ready…to come!”

“I’m ready too, Mr. Zander,” Daisy replied.

With their lusts perfectly in synch, Jonathan pulled out of her again and she quickly turned around so that she could drop her to knees again. Just as before, she put those voluptuous breasts of hers to good use, pressing his throbbing cock between them. From that position, he slid his manhood between those fleshy mounds of his until he crossed that final threshold.

“Oohhh Daisy!”

After those fateful words, the volcano of pent up desire erupted. Holding onto her head, Jonathan closed his eyes and threw his head back as the feeling washed over him like a tsunami of pure ecstasy. It was incredible, his throbbing releasing a thick load of cum onto the beautiful woman’s amble cleavage. From head to toe, the sensations rippled through his body in a surge of pleasure, power, and accomplishment.

The volume of manly fluid surprised Daisy as much as it did him. She even gasped somewhat at how much ended up on her face. It had definitely been a while for him. A lot of feelings had been pent up in his effort to advance his career. As tough as it had been, the end result was worth it…even if it was somewhat messy.

“Wow!” Daisy said. “So much cum…you really did work hard for this.”

“Yeah…hard,” he said, still an orgasmic daze.

They both laughed somewhat as Daisy used her tits to extract every last drop from his manhood. She even made sure to lick up the bits that lingered. Once the ecstasy passed, Jonathan let out the most content sigh he had experienced in over a decade.

He ended up leaning back on his desk, sitting down on the floor next to the naked woman who still had his cum dripping from her tits. She didn’t seem to mind, though. She even pulled him into a light embrace, as if to offer once last round of congratulations for what he achieved.

“A job well done, Mr. Zander,” she told him.

“Speak for yourself, Ms. Daisy,” Jonathan laughed.

“You’re going to make a great executive here. I look forward to celebrating your future achievements with you.”

“So do I,” he told her, “and don’t worry. I’ll have plenty of achievements worth celebrating in the future. I promise!”

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“The Mysterious Frenchman” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story that was commissioned by a loyal reader who wanted a specific, French-themed kind of sexy. They know who they are. I hope they enjoy this. If you’re at all interested in commissioning another sexy short story, please contact me. Until then, profiter de l’histoire!

What was it about France that made it so romantic?

American girls like Rose Redman had asked themselves that question more than once. It was just one country in Europe, albeit one with a unique collection of people, places, and culture. It had a rich history and a distinct style. There was a special distinction that came with all things French. Being there just felt different. It carried a spirit that could not be found anywhere else.

Rose, unlike other Americans, had a chance to seek that spirit for herself. At 18-years-old, having just graduated high school, she decided to experience France on her own. It marked the first vacation she ever went on by herself. It was ambitious, but that had never dissuaded her before.

Rose was not the kind of woman who just read about exotic locations. She preferred to experience them first-hand. Some called her adventurous. Others called her reckless. She didn’t care what anyone labeled her. She was her own person. She was going to experience France and everything that made it romantic.

However, her choice to make France her final vacation before college wasn’t just about its romantic mystique. Rose had a more personal reason for maxing out her credit cards and borrowing money from friends…one prompted by tragedy.

“You would’ve loved this place, Mom,” she said solemnly. “You would’ve loved everything about it.”

Rose had been saying those words to herself almost every day since she arrived. Everywhere she went – Paris, Lyon, Nice, Bordeaux, and all their various landmarks – she experienced something she knew her mother would’ve loved. Whether it was a famous building or a snack she bought at a café, she could easily imagine her mother’s face lighting up like the Parisian skyline.

Sadly, Rose never got the chance to share that experience. Eight months ago, her mother passed away after a two-year bout with cancer. The trip wasn’t just about the experience or even the romance. It was her way of honoring her mother.

“I still miss you,” Rose said to the clear blue sky. “We would’ve had so much fun here. Hell, a day at the nude beach in Nice would’ve made for some great memories…funny, awkward, and mortifying memories, but still great none-the-less.”

She laughed to herself, despite the lingering sorrow. Hugging her knees, sitting atop a picnic blanket on a hot summer day, Rose tried to focus on all the wonderful things she’d experienced on her trip.

“Just so you know, I didn’t meet that fancy French aristocrat you’d said I’d meet,” she said, still fixated on the sky. “I met some guys who said I had great legs. Then again, my French is still lousy so they might have been referring to my tits. There were polite about it, though. I still said no when they offered to rub sunscreen on my back.”

She kept smiling at the memory. She could hear her mother telling her she should’ve let them. Like her, her mother was a free spirit. She loved to learn new things and seek new experiences. She just didn’t get a chance to travel much. Between a failed marriage with her father and a career that seemed to change every other month, she didn’t get many opportunities. That didn’t stop her from making plans.

Before she died, she’d told Rose a story about a trip to France she took as a child. She’d even told her that she wanted to take her there on vacation after she finished college, joking about how the country’s romantic ambience would perfectly complement their free-spirited nature. Rose had been looking forward to that trip since middle school. Fate, misfortune, and circumstances just got in the way.

“I know you didn’t want me to mourn you for this long,” Rose said, now resting her chin on her knees. “You told me you didn’t want your death to dampen my spirit and harden my heart. You made me promise to keep seeking love…to embrace it, as I always have. It’s just a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

Tears formed in her eyes as Rose sobbed softly into her hands. She sighed to herself and reached for the half-empty glass of wine she had next to her. It came courtesy of the best bottle she could afford and some complimentary cheese, which she had finished.

After nearly a week of traveling the cities, seeing the sites, and lounging on the beaches, Rose decided to spend the last day of her vacation at a winery east of Bordeaux. She even made sure she came at a time when it wasn’t too crowded, opting to skip the tour and just find a quiet place on a hillside overlooking fields.

It was her way of sharing a quiet moment with her mother’s spirit. Gazing out over the beautiful French countryside, however, Rose could feel her heart aching to reach out, but the cloud of her mother’s death still hung over her.

“You always said we shouldn’t hesitate to love, even if it gets us in trouble,” Rose mused as she sipped the wine. “Great experiences come with a price. Maybe that’s why France such a romantic place. People are much more willing to pay that price and take that chance.”

It made sense. The people Rose had met, including the flirty men on that nude beach, weren’t afraid to put themselves out there. For some reason, pursuing love that directly was taboo back home. It was refreshing for someone who’d opened her heart to a lot of people in her life. France was just as open, but for some reason, she’d closed herself off.

“I’m in this wonderful place where I can heal my soul and honor your memory,” Rose said as she stared at her now-empty glass. “After all the places I’ve been and all the people I’ve met, why do I still feel…empty?”

That question had been plaguing her for days now. She was set to fly home the next day. Rose wanted to be able to tell her friends and family that she was at peace. She was ready to move forward and love again. She needed to keep that last promise she’d made to her mother. At the moment, though, it felt like she was failing her.

“You’re a long way from the tour group, mademoiselle,” came an unexpected voice in a deep French accent.

Rose turned to see a tall, older man with a thick black beard, large forearms, and olive-toned skin emerging from a nearby field of grape vines. He wore white shirt, tattered dark pants, and muddy boots, indicating he wasn’t a tour guide. From the looks of it, he worked at the winery, albeit not in the most glamorous role.

“There are far better places for a picnic,” the man told her, “unless, of course, you’re not looking for the best place…just the one where you can talk to yourself in peace.”

“You uh…heard that?” Rose said sheepishly.

“My English is not great,” he said, “but I understand enough to know when someone is speaking with a broken heart. Here in France, we like to think we’re more fluent than most in the language of the heart.”

The man cast her a sympathetic smile. Rose smiled back, but still blushed profusely. She didn’t usually talk to herself and when she did, she had the good sense to be subtle. Then again, subtlety had never been among her strengths

The man didn’t hold it against her, though. He just kept smiling as he sat down next to her. In doing so, she confirmed that the man definitely worked on the front lines of the winery, so to speak. He smelled like he’d been toiling for hours, picking grapes and tilling the soil. Being the kind of woman who appreciated hard working men more than most, Rose didn’t mind in the slightest.

“So how much did you understand?” Rose asked him.

“Enough to know that you came here with a wounded heart,” the man said. “Not a broken heart, which I’ve seen plenty of in my time. Just wounded.”

“What’s the difference?”

“There’s a considerable difference,” he said. “I don’t know if English has the right words for it.”

“That sounds exactly like something someone from France would say.”

“I won’t claim I could explain it perfectly in my native tongue. It would certainly be easier, especially when the wounds aren’t healing as much as you wish they were.”

Rose’s demeanor shifted. She diverted her gaze, as if to hide some of the sorrow she’d tried to put into words moments ago. No matter how much the mysterious Frenchman had overheard, she’d made her pain clear. Hers was a strained heart, one that could still love, but had been hardened by loss. Even as someone who rarely hid her emotions, it still hurt.

That didn’t deter the man. He even scooted closer, giving her an even bigger whiff of that musky scent that could only come from a man who spent his days making French wine. It was enough to make her heart skip a beat, which seemed to make his point.

“I’m Philippe, by the way,” the man said.

“I’m Rose. Nice to meet you,” Rose said with a smile. “Would I be an insufferably rude tourist if I called you Phil?”

“For a woman dealing with a wounded heart, I’ll happily overlook some cultural peeves,” Philippe said. “If I were to guess from your clothing and your disposition, I’d say you’re from America, non?”

“You’re a good guesser,” Rose said, impressed by his perception. “What gave it away? My crude American accent?”

“Not at all,” he laughed. “A lot of Americans love to visit French wineries. Having worked here for over 15 years, I’ve noticed how they conduct themselves. They value freedom, strength, and spirit, but they see matters of the heart as weakness.”

“I want to defend my country, but I feel like I’ve made myself a big enough fool.”

“It’s never foolish to express how much you’re hurting. Pain – whether it’s from loss or picking grapes for eight hours straight – reminds us that we’re alive. More importantly, it affirms that we wish to keep living.”

“I think pain sucks. I don’t care if that makes me an uncultured American. My mother has been dead for almost a year. I thought it would hurt less by now. The whole reason I came to France was to mend it, like I know she would’ve wanted.”

“Why do you think it has not worked?”

“Hell if I know,” Rose sighed. “You’re the one who says French are fluent in the language of the heart. Any chance you can translate for me?”

“I can try,” Philippe said, “but the heart often speaks with mixed messages. Even a full-blooded Frenchmen struggles to make sense of it.”

The tall, older man set her wine glass and snack tray aside. He then sat down in front of her, caressing her face with both hands and aligning his gaze with hers. With such close proximity, she could smell more than grapes, wine, and dirt. Rose could the strength feel his penetrating gaze. It was like looking into a light that exposed all the ugly wounds she’d been trying to ignore.

At the same time, the feeling of an attractive older Frenchman touching her heart racing faster. It also sparked a new heat within her, one that had nothing to do with the hot summer air. As someone who had a lot of boyfriends in high school, but hadn’t so much as hugged one since her mother died, it was intense…as well as arousing.

“I see in you something other than loss and pain,” Philippe told her. “I see a woman eager to share herself with the world, but then the world hit you with something you weren’t ready for. And it hit hard.”

“My mother and I were really close,” Rose said. “I don’t know how it could’ve hit much harder.”

“And when something hits us, we fall. Both the hit and the fall hurt, but it passes. We get back up and we fight through the pain. When we’re struck in our heart, though…getting back up isn’t enough. Just overcoming the pain isn’t enough, either.”

“Well, what else is there?”

Philippe leaned in closer, so much so that his rugged French complexion was all she saw. The beauty of the French countryside, the gentle summer breezes sweeping through the area, and the various activities of a functioning winery became an afterthought. In that moment, he was the sole focus of her world.

“I think it’s the same thing that brought you to France,” he told her, “the one thing that every wounded heart needs before it can heal…closure.”

“Closure,” Rose found herself saying.

“Not just with respect to your mother’s passing,” he went on, “but to the very essence of your spirit. I can already tell you’re someone who likes to embrace the world, but to do that in a world without your mother…you need to take that final step.”

“To do what?” she asked intently.

“To say goodbye, to move on, and to chart your own path without her.”

It was like receiving an overdue message, one scripted by the spirit of her mother, but conveyed through the thick accent of a handsome older Frenchman. In terms of getting the point across, Rose couldn’t imagine anything more effective.

Suddenly, her heart skipped a beat.

A warm gust of wind blew over the French countryside.

A powerful feeling washed over her, as though a blanket of genuine love had washed over her.

It was so intense that it brought tears to her eyes. It was like her mother was giving her one last hug goodbye. At the same time, the presence of a handsome Frenchman in Philippe gave her someone to share in that feeling. Never one to turn away from a powerful moment, Rose broke down and threw her arms around the man before her.

“Merci,” she cried. “Merci, Philippe.”

“It’s okay, Mademoiselle Rose,” Philippe said. “It’s okay.”

She sensed she’d overwhelmed him. That didn’t stop him from hugging her back, sharing in the feeling of the moment. She didn’t hide from the tears or the sobs. For the first time in her entire trip, she didn’t avoid the sorrow. She just took it all in, but rather than lament, she let it act as the closure she hadn’t achieved. It was liberating, as though her spirit could once again soar.

As the weight of those feelings passed, though, other feelings emerged as well. It was not lost on Rose for a second that she was embracing a very attractive man. She also hadn’t forgotten that she’d cut herself off from intimate contact with men since her mother died. For a spirit as lively as hers, it did plenty to rekindle that special inner passion within her.

“Philippe…” she said after her sobs subsided.

“Yes, Mademoiselle?” he asked.

Still embracing him closely, Rose locked eyes with him, just as he’d done with her earlier. Now, she was the center of his world, the only spectacle he saw in the French countryside. As she gazed upon him, she affectionately caressed his unshaven face with her soft hands. Then, acting on that spirit that had longed to re-emerge, she kissed him.

As soon as she tasted those sultry French lips, Rose felt the weight of many burdens lift from her soul. It was like her mother’s spirit had come down to relieve her of them once and for all. In her place, the passion that had been muted by sorrow arose once more. In that moment, she channeled that passion onto Philippe.

“My, my, Rose,” the Frenchman gasped. “You American girls…such intense kissers.”

“You speak the language of the heart. We speak the language of hot kissing!” Rose said, her voice once again full of life.

“Another universal tongue…in a manner of speaking.”

“Universal, indeed!”

They kissed again with greater intensity, embracing and caressing one another under the hot summer heat. Once again, Rose dared to bring passion into her life. With Philippe, though – the strange Frenchman who’d been there at just the right time to mend her wounded soul – she put in extra effort.

She made sure every touch carried meaning, from the way she twirled her tongue with his to the way she ran her hands through his messy hair. Even if his English wasn’t great, he got the message loud and clear. He’d healed her in just the way she needed to be healed. Were they back on that nude beach in Nice, she would’ve done more than kiss him.

As the affectionate gestures intensified, Roes felt him reach up her skirt and feel around her inner thighs. In doing so, it mixed that rekindled passion with a more basic arousal, one that reminded her of the other needs she hadn’t been meeting lately.

“Philippe,” Rose gasped, “your hand.”

“Would you…like me to stop?” he asked coyly.

“Heavens no!” she said without hesitation.

“In that case, allow me to do one more thing that I believe will give you closure…something we, in France, know to be effective at healing wounded hearts.”

“Oh? And what might that entail?”

With a sneaky grin that only a confident Frenchman could offer, he leaned in closer and whispered into her ear.

“Lie down on your back,” he told her. “Look to the sky, think only of your mother’s love, and let my skilled French tongue do the rest.”

The way he said it sounded so sultry, yet so genuine. Rose knew the French – and Europeans, in general – were less uptight when it came to sexual matters. However, she’d never encountered someone who used sexuality to mend a wounded spirit. For someone like her, who valued her unbound spirit, it seemed so fitting.

“Okay,” said Rose. “Do what you Frenchmen do best to cute, American girls in need of comfort.”

He cast her a confident, but reassuring grin. He had a glint in his eyes that said to her that he intended to deliver and, in what might end up being her final French experience, she trusted him.

Doing as he’d instructed, she laid back on her picnic blanket and gazed up at the clear blue skies. In the process, Philippe reached behind and unzipped the back of her skirt so that he could remove it. She didn’t resist in the slightest, even kicking off her sandals in the process. Then, after setting aside her skirt, he removed her panties as well, leaving her completely naked from the waist down.

“Such beauty,” Philippe said upon seeing her exposed lower body. “You American girls are so adept at grooming.”

Rose giggled, but remained focused on the sky above. Her heart raced and every breath became heavy. All the summer heat seemed to collect around her inner thighs, as though her desire for closure had become a ball of heat housed within her core. At that point, only a mysterious Frenchman could unleash it.

Philippe was more than up to the task. As she gazed to the heavens, he carefully pushed her legs apart and trailed his lips along her inner thighs. Slowly, but steadily, he charted a path to the growing heat that was her womanhood. By the time he arrived, she was fully aroused, her folds engorged and her depths aching for his touch.

“Close your eyes,” he said in that thick accent of his. “Think of all the love that your mother inspired…that you wish to carry on in her memory. Focus on that as I focus on making you feel special in this moment of closure.”

It was hard to focus on anything when she was so incredibly aroused, but for her mother’s memory, Rose endured it. Still breathing heavily, she clung to her picnic blanket and closed her eyes while Philippe put that French tongue of his to work in the best possible way.

“Ooh Philippe!” Rose gasped upon feeling his lips on her nether regions.

Like a true connoisseur, the mysterious Frenchman gave her oral sex. He was not sloppy or crude, either. He treated such an intimate act the same way a dignified man would treat fine dining, exercising manners and care. It was a more refined approach to a common sex act…one that evoked a unique blend of sensations, pleasure, and satisfaction.

Clutching the picnic blanket harder, Rose let out more cries of delight to the heavens. Philippe, heeding her cries like a beacon, intensified his efforts. He held her legs apart, probed deeper with that French tongue of his, and tasted her womanly flesh as though it were an exotic treat. Soon, those feelings of sorrow and pent-up desires converged into a burning ball of blissful heat. It was like the remaining shackles on her spirit were about to shatter.

As that heat intensified, Rose opened her eyes. All she saw was a clear blue sky. Under the constant bombardment of pleasure, its grandeur took on greater meaning. In that moment, she felt as though her mother was gazing down upon her from Heaven, ready to bless her with one final gesture.

“I…I’m close. I’m so…so close!” Rose gasped, her voice dazed by the feeling.

Philippe, heeding her call, lifted her hips slightly and smothered her womanhood with an onslaught of oral teasing. He hit every sensitive area with perfect precision, stimulating her feminine features to the utmost. It sent her to the edge of that special cliff where an ocean of ecstasy awaited her. Once there, Rose let her spirit guide her and she dove in.

“Oohhh yes!”

Her moan of euphoria echoed from the depths of her soul into the sky. She was so vocal with her intimate peak that all the angels in Heaven – including her mother – definitely heard her. Every inch of her skin burned with white hot sensations of pleasure, her toes curling and her back arching as she writhed in the feeling.

By every measure, it was an intense orgasm, but it carried far greater meaning beyond the pleasure. As Rose gazed fixated on the sky, her tears of sorrow having since turned to tears of joy, Philippe set her hips down and leaned in so that he could whisper in her ear once more.

“Let that be your final closure,” he told her, “courtesy of a proud Frenchman.”

“Merci, Monsieur…merci,” Rose panted.

He kissed her on the neck again, traces of her feminine juices still on his breath. Rose smiled warmly, but remained on her back, half-naked and staring at the cloudless sky above her. She’d come to France to take the trip that she and her mother never got a chance to share. She saw and experienced many things that her mother would’ve loved…wonderful things she wish they could’ve shared. Instead of honoring her memory, it just felt like she was mourning her even more.

Then, she encountered a very special man in the French countryside. Thanks to him, the sorrow of loss became the relief of closure. Thanks to a mysterious Frenchman, her mother was gone, but her spirit was freed…just like hers.

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“Bending Over Becky” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story that was inspired by one of my old college roommates. He had a girlfriend for the entire time we shared a dorm and they had a very overt sex life, to say the least. Enjoy!

Some couples treated sex like an elaborate spectacle. It couldn’t just happen on a whim. They needed to set a certain mood, creating just the right environment for a sensual, satisfying experience. Becky Raven didn’t understand those couples and that was not the kind of sex life she had with her long-time boyfriend, Richard Wyatt.

“Bend over.”

That was all he said to her one muggy Saturday afternoon after walking into the home office of the townhouse they shared. He didn’t offer any details. He didn’t ask whether she was in the mood because he didn’t need to. Richard knew the dynamics/quirks of their sex life as well as her. After all the years they’d been together, they were past the point of words.

Not saying a word, Becky stopped what she’d been doing on her laptop and rose up from her chair. Richards, looking more stressed than usual, stormed over like a man on a mission. Having just gotten home from some unexpected overtime at the office, he had more energy than usual and Becky knew how he wanted to spend it.

Already feeling his lustful gaze on him, Beck leaned over her desk and kicked the chair aside. As soon as her lover arrived, he didn’t waste any time and grabbed the hem of her pants.

“Get these off,” Richard said intently.

Not waiting for a response, he pulled them down to her ankles, along with her underwear. Then, with her pants and panties down at her ankles, he dropped to his knees and started eating her pussy out.

“Ooh Richard!” she gasped. “Rough day at the office?”

He didn’t answer. She doubted he’d heard her. Richard wasn’t easily distracted, especially when he got horny. He also loved giving her oral sex. He once claimed pussy was both his favorite desert and his favorite appetizer. On top of that, he knew how to hit all those sensitive spots in her depths. That kind of insight that could turn a lazy afternoon into a full-blown fuck fest.

Richard must have been hornier than usual, putting extra urgency into his oral sex. While on his knees, he used both hands to push Becky’s folds apart, allowing him to probe deep with his tongue and hit all the right areas. That got all the right juices flowing. Becky, now holding onto the side of the desk, could only moan blissfully as a steady stream of sensual sensations coursed through her body.

“Ohhh!” she moaned. “It must have been a really rough day.”

Richard remained focused on his oral teasing, letting out deep grunts as he gorged on her folds. Becky also sensed him undo his belt buckle and unzip his pants. With one hand still caressing her pussy, he began stroking his cock. It must have already been half-erect when he entered the room because he got fully aroused pretty quickly.

Either something went really wrong at the office or something went really right. He worked in the sales department of an investment firm, which often required people to be intense and energetic. As it just so happened, that was also what got Richard really aroused. It meant that having a functioning sex life with him required that they skip a few steps.

“If it was that bad…just do it, Richard,” she said. “You clearly need it more than I do.”

Her lover definitely heard that. After giving her pussy one last thorough lick, he rose up from the floor, kicked off the khakis he’d worn to the office, and positioned himself behind her. She felt the tip of his rigid dick rub up against her wet entrance. He ached for her sex and the release it offered. With a firm thrust of the hips, he entered her.

“Oh yeah!” Richard moaned. “I need this…so much.”

His member now deep within her folds, he grabbed hold of her waist and began pumping his cock inside her. He didn’t take it slow or steady, either. He went right for the rough stuff. There was no sweet, tender lovemaking. There was just fucking…raw, unfiltered sex.

“Oh fuck! Ooh fuck!” Becky moaned out. “That’s it, love! Fuck me as hard as necessary!”

She clung harder to the desk, bending over more so that her breasts pressed up against her closed laptop. Richard took her vulgar urgings to heart. That was another kink about their sex life. She loved to talk dirty. She was downright crude, at times, even when they made love. Some men found that disorienting. Richard just thought it was hot.

It showed in how he fucked her. He did it harder and faster, rocking the desk and knocking over some files in the process. He also did it rougher, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back, another unique kink that heightened their sex. That feeling of hard, manly flesh thrusting in and out of her pussy sent surges of sensations up through her body. Having been lazily reading emails just moments ago, it was quite a change.

That confluence of quirks, on top of whatever sparked his need, helped Richard get to his peak in short order. He wasn’t too quick. Even when he was really horny, he always made an effort to share the joys of sex with Becky. He still made it to that special domain where the feeling morphed from a blissful heat to a raging wildfire of ecstasy.

“I’m coming, Becky! I’m going to…come!” Richard said with a deep grunt.

Becky just held onto the desk, spreading her legs a little wider so that he could get in extra deep when he got his release. His thrusting slowed and his member throbbed inside her in accord with the pleasure. Hot streams of manly juices shot up into her depths, creating a hot, intimate feeling. It contrasted greatly with the hardcore fucking she’d just experienced, but that only made it more satisfying, creating a sense of balance.

Now short of breath and awash in pleasure, Richard withdrew his cock from her and fell back into the office chair she’d been sitting in before he arrived. Still bent over the desk, Becky had to catch her breath too. When she turned to face her lover, though, she smiled.

“Feel better now?” she asked him.

“Yeah…much better,” Richard said with a grin.

“I bet. Since you usually don’t fuck me that hard without a reason, I won’t ask for details. I’ll just assume your brain, your nerves, and your dick were in agreement, for once.”

“Thanks,” he said. “You’re a damn good girlfriend, Becky.”

“You’re damn right!” she said proudly. “I’d tell you not to forget it, but I’d rather remind you.”

She trusted her lover to fill in the sub-text. He knew as well as she did what had to happen next. As Richard sat lazily in the chair, she stepped out of her pants and took off the light cotton shirt she’d been wearing. Since she hadn’t been wearing a bra, it rendered her fully naked, a sight her lover always appreciated. She let him admire her exposed body in the afternoon son for a brief second. Then, she approached him with a crude request of her own.

“Sit back,” she said, mirroring the same tone he’d used with her.

He did so without hesitation. Still breathing heavily, she climbed onto his lap and kissed him hungrily. As their lips and tongues twirled together, she undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He’d probably worked up a sweat by fucking her and it was probably really itchy.

After getting it off, she tossed the rest of his clothes aside and slipped off the chair. She then dropped to her knees, just as he had done earlier, and focused her attention on his still-throbbing manhood. It had somewhat softened after his climax, but Becky knew her lover’s anatomy as well as he knew hers. One good orgasm after a stressful day wasn’t enough to get the job done.

With that in mind, she grabbed the base of his dick with one hand and began giving him oral sex. A fresh round of sharp grunts followed.

“Damn!” Richard moaned. “This my kind of reminder.”

Becky responded only with a hungry moan, one that let him know that she was still horny. She still wanted a release of her own. It was one of the official rules of their sex lives. If one of them came in needing a good fucking, then they could get it. However, every time one of them got off, they had to give the other a chance to match them.

Sometimes, that wasn’t possible. If the rate at which Richard got hard again was any indication, Becky doubted that would be an issue. Driven by her own burning need, she sucked his member hard, sliding her lips and tongue along the length of his shaft. Just as he knew the intricacies of her pussy, she knew the subtleties of his dick. She knew how to blow him in just the right way to get him hard again.

Most men couldn’t get hard for hours after blowing their load. Others took even longer. Richard was a special kind of man in a great many ways. His ability to keep fucking her after coming was just one of them.

“You ready?” she asked after giving his dick an extra thorough lick.

“I’m ready,” Richard said.

No further assurance was necessary. With his manhood now erect, Becky rose back to her feet, turned around, and positioned herself over him so that her pelvis was aligned with his. She made sure he had a good view of her butt, a sight he always appreciated. She then lowered herself back onto his dick, his manly flesh penetrating her depths once more.

“Bend me over again,” Becky told him. “Fuck me until I come!”

Richard gladly obliged, grabbing hold of her butt and resuming the hard fucking they’d shared moments ago. He showed off his arm strength, guiding her hips up and down so that the folds of her pussy slithered perfectly along his dick. Becky even showed off her flexibility, bending over far enough that she could watch the spectacle from behind. Having not been able to see much when he bent her over the first time, she sought to take in the sights.

“Ohhh yeah! Fuck me! Fuck yeah!” she moaned, her love of dirty talk showing. “Harder! Do it harder!”

Richard replied with more determined grunts, squeezing her butt harder and stepping up the pace. The flimsy office chair could barely hold together, testing her orgasmic efficiency as much as her flexibility. Thankfully, Becky didn’t need to damage any furniture to achieve her goal.

As her inner muscles throbbed with increasing intensity, she felt her orgasm coming up fast. Richard certainly did his part, rubbing her butt just like she licked. He even reached around and fondled her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to accelerate the orgasmic process. When it hit, it came at her like tsunami.

“Oohhh I’m coming, Richard! I’m coming!” she cried out.

Just as she crossed that fine line between exertion and ecstasy, her love grabbed her hair again and pulled her head back. It was just in time too because it allowed her to proclaim her ecstasy to the heavens.

She made it a point to be extra loud as she soaked in the euphoria. White hot surges of pleasure coursed through her system, filling her with the kind of raw bliss that could only come with her and Richard’s unique brand of sex. Some might call it kinky. Some might call it rough. That didn’t make it any less intimate.

After the ecstasy passed, Becky let out a content sigh and rose up off her lover’s cock. She then casually sat with him in the chair, their naked bodies glistening in the afternoon son. They were silent for a while, not needing to say much. It might have been the most meaningful trait of their relationship. They didn’t need to sweet talk each other to affirm their love. They already knew how much they loved each other. As a bonus, it allowed them to be more efficient with their sex lives.

“Guess we both needed that,” Richard said.

“Guess so,” Becky said coyly.

“I’m so lucky…having such an awesome girlfriend,” he went on, “one who doesn’t mind me bending her over on a whim.”

“And I’m just as lucky to have a boyfriend who knows how to fuck me right!”

“I’m glad you appreciate it as much as I do,” he said, “because after the day I’ve had, you might want to stay naked for the rest of the day.”

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