“Really?”
She nods. “Really.”
Mac kicks off his boots. “I take it we’re not going out tonight?”
“Why spoil a wonderful evening?” Chloe purrs, fondling my breasts where they are lifting from the corset
Mac is at my back, and he kisses my neck, grazing me with his teeth. I arch in response. “It’s my birthday next week,” he says, breathing against my skin.
“Sure it is,” I respond.
“Oh, it is,” Chloe confirms.
“Do you want me to come back then, gift wrapped?”
Mac thinks about that for a moment, and I feel his cock getting hard against the back of my thighs. “I think you should just stay with us, all week.”
“Sounds good to me,” I say, and settle between them, and it’s right where I want to be.
More Than a Mouthful
Rachel Kramer Bussel
Sometimes all I want is a good fuck — or a good suck, I’m not picky. I know that as a modern woman, I’m supposed to ask for the whole package — a kind, sensitive, man who does his share of the housework and is gentle and patient, who also knows what to do with his dick — but there are moments when his package alone will do, and the bigger, the better. I just want it somewhere inside me, anywhere to quench that seemingly insatiable, overwhelming urge, the kind that can only be satisfied by a dick that’s aching just as powerfully for me. Yes, there are times when I want to make love, to luxuriate in the sensation of skin on skin, of hard and soft, of his hands and lips grabbing me, taking me. Other times I just want it down and dirty, I want to be a whore of the highest order. Usually I get exactly what I want, but sometimes things don’t go quite according to plan. What happened last week was an example of the latter.
I had just tried to wake long-term boyfriend, Hunter, up with a blow job. That’s one of my favourite times to suck his cock, when he’s sleeping like a baby, blissfully unaware of my intentions, and I get to take him from resting to aroused. I never feel more powerful, more full of womanly wiles, than I do when he hardens between my lips. Sometimes I just stare at him sleeping, his big body scrambling for air, loud snores wracking his frame, like he’s afraid to settle into the true peace sleep can offer. I can stroke his shoulder or even plant a soft kiss on his back without him noticing. His dick and I do our own private dance as he stays in dream world until eventually the excitement awakens him. But sometimes, my oral approaches are less than welcome.
“That feels great, baby, but it’s OK,” he mumbled, pushing me off and turning over, the quilt clutched more tightly around him, shielding him from me. “I’ve got to get to work.” He rolled away from me, shuddering as if something utterly distasteful had just occurred, or at least, that’s how it felt to me. He rose and, without looking at me, pulled on boxers and a T-shirt and made his way across the room.
He didn’t seem to notice the clear disappointment on my face, the way I stared up at him, not pouting, just hurt, rejected. And I didn’t say a word. I just stumbled into the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and let silent tears crawl down my face while I listened to him boot up his computer.
I vowed that that would be the last time I’d try to wake him in such a way. If he wanted his cock sucked, he knew where to find me; by then I wasn’t even sure his was the cock I wanted to fill me up. I stormed out of the house filled with pent-up sexual frustration and anger that I had let myself fall for someone so uninterested in sex he could reject me like that. I was better than that, deserved more from the person I’d pledged my heart and body to, damn it. My anger was all well and good, but it didn’t lessen my desire to have my mouth stuffed, filled, used. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that not getting to be the good little cocksucker I can be was a deal-breaker, and if I couldn’t get it from him, I was going to find someone to give me what I craved. I’ve always required some kind of oral stimulation, always found it exciting beyond belief to let a man trace his fingers over my tongue, to lick my way along a salty forearm, to tease an inner thigh with my teeth, to suck a finger (or two) when I’m getting fucked.
After that first morning of stomping down the street in my tallest heels with a pout on my face, slamming things around at my office — I run my own time-management consulting firm — I didn’t stress about it any more. I felt a sense of calm wash over me. It wasn’t an obsession so much as something I knew would happen when the time was right. After all, women like me who live for going down don’t often go neglected for long.
Plus, the more I was made to wait, the more I’d appreciate it when I finally got that fat, juicy cock in my mouth — and, boy, was I right. My chance didn’t come until four months later, an agonizing time during which I did my best to keep things cordial but never over-the-top with Hunter. We fucked, but in an understated way; we didn’t paw and claw each other when we walked in the door. We were content to wait, where we hadn’t been before. If he missed our more passionate days or thought I was in any way aloof, he didn’t say anything, which only solidified my intention to sate my hunger elsewhere.
And elsewhere turned out to be a Caribbean cruise — a work thing, as it turned out. I was asked to speak to a group of business executives about time management. The pay wasn’t great, but since it included a free trip, and I was overdue for a vacation, albeit a working one, I figured I couldn’t say no. I did ask if Hunter could get comped along with me, but his boss said no, and part of me was relieved. I needed some time apart from him, to see who I could be without him clinging to me, a sensation that had been plaguing me since before the blow-job incident. I certainly wasn’t about to pay for him myself, and he seemed more than happy to let me go by myself — much happier than I’d have been about unleashing him on a group of strangers for a week, all trapped on a confined vehicle, save for the times we’d be frolicking on sunny beaches in skimpy outfits (even work-related cruises have their downtime).
The week before the cruise flew by, and I gave Hunter only a kiss on the cheek as he slept through my early-morning departure. I kept largely to myself for the first two days, not wanting to get too chummy with anyone and then be caught off guard if I spied them in the audience, preparing my speech and wondering just how many hook-ups were happening onboard at that very moment. The crowd was mixed and while wedding rings abounded, I knew as well as anyone that didn’t necessarily mean anything. I hoped someone was getting some, anyway; all I had was my hand and the little clit-stimulation vibrator I’d brought with me, one I’d found worked much better with penetration than without.
I also worked out in the gym on-board, sweating away the stress and the sexual tension, pumping iron and jogging until I returned to my room spent. When it came time to give my speech, I was mellow, focused, fully prepared and, to be immodest for a moment, I can safely say that I nailed it. I wowed them, making them laugh at all the right moments, seeing nods of recognition, smiles of excitement as I promised them that they too could have everything they ever wanted, fulfil every wish, if they only took a stronger command of their schedules. Yo u can learn to be punctual, organized and on top of things, but some of us need more training than others. I shared my own journey, and finished to a rousing round of applause, followed by a line twenty-people deep waiting to talk to me.
After about an hour, only two people were left — two very hot guys, both tall, muscular, exuding testosterone, who seemed to know each other well. One was a redhead, his shock of bright locks glowing from the light while the other had a round, bald black head. Together they looked almost comical, but they were friends from Seattle, both in charge of their own successful start-ups, but concerned that they spent all their time on work, with little left for play. And it seemed that both of them were more than happy to ignore my wedding ring as they chatted me up. The cruise director came over and thanked me, and I figured, while I wrapped up my business with him, my new friends, Sean and Rick, would take off, but they were waiting for me when I finished things up.