fun with two gay boys (re-post).

My gay friend and I might hookup.  My gay guy friend, Tim.  I know, I know...

Tim has never been with a woman before, and expressed interest in trying it.  Well, not interest, per se.  I've always been attracted to him.  His lanky, toned frame, high cheekbones, and shimmery blonde hair make me jealous and aroused at the same time.  He flirts with me constantly, and I love the male attention.  Did I mention, his personality is lovely?  Not bitchy or jaded, but open and friendly.  And I, in a not so lovely moment, kind of bullied him into admitting it, while we were drunk.  I cornered him.  After an onslaught of questions, I made him say that if he didn't have to kiss her, touch her breasts, or go down on her, that he imagined he could "get through it".  Having sex with a woman.  Get through it!  Did I mention that the woman he was talking about was Madonna?  Doesn't matter.  My vagina was alight with a devilish idea.  But, I'm not kidding myself.  I'm not expecting any sort of relationship or reciprocal attraction out of him.  I just want him to see that it's not so bad.  That I'm not so bad.  I can be very convincing when I want something.  And I desperately want to be his first.
So, we planned it!  Perhaps out of the desperation of not getting any tail in a while, he said that we could get together tonight, and "see what happens".
"No pressure, though, Emily!"  He reminds me, and I try to cool my jets.  But, it's nearly impossible for me, my desire for him excites me so.
"Haha," I giggle giddily, taunting him.  "We'll see."
"You don't mind if I bring a something?"
"All you need to bring is your hard cock,"  I reply.  He pretends to ignore it.
"What I mean is... I might need a little... support."
"Oh, sure!  I get it," I answer, winking, assuming he means booze.  I wear the sexy dress that he always compliments me on, and put on my lashes like a regular drag queen.  But, when I slide down the hall in my heels and open the door, I suddenly stop, surprised at what I see before me.  Tim, looking cute as ever, with a tight t-shirt and butt hugging jeans; no bottle in hand, but with a thick drink of water standing beside him.  A masculine, older looking man, giving a pleasing contrast to Tim's willowy tallness.  
"Are we having a party?" I ask, having already taken a couple shots to loosen up.  
"I didn't think you'd mind," Tim smiles, already looking to his rugged friend for support.  "This is Thomas," he continues, gesturing to the man that doesn't particularly strike me as gay.  But either does Tim, if that's tells you what my gaydar is like.  This new guy is masculine, attractive, with a striking jawline, and broad chest.  He has a closely cropped haircut like Tim, but in a darker colour, and a shadow of stubble dusts his face.  It's all I need to know before welcoming them both in.  
We drink, quite late into the night, flirting and laughing like old pals, and I'm wondering if Tim brought his friend over so that he wouldn't have to sleep with me.  At one point, I think I may have a better chance with Thomas.  The three of us are sitting on the couch, with me in the middle.  Candlelight casting an attractive shadow, Thomas looks deep into my eyes, as if he's searching for something, and smiles as if he's found it.  I'm feeling warm and squishy, and silently decide that I shouldn't push Tim into anything, no matter how bad I want it.  I feel shameful of how I've been acting lately.  I turn back to Tim, putting my hand on his leg, and smiling at him apologetically.   And well, Thomas may have taken that as some sort of a cue, because he takes my chin in his hand, turns my face back to his, and kisses me on the mouth.
He tastes sweet, of liquor, and his kiss is surprisingly soft, despite the stubble.  A little confused, but sauced enough to go with the flow, I kiss his powerful yet gentle jaw back, opening my mouth slightly to allow his warm tongue to enter.  It does, but only barely, as if too shy to leave its own cave.  I smile at the timidness of it, and give him mine, instead.  In the kiss, I'm feeling loose and loving, and almost forget my fair friend Tim behind me.  I turn to him, to gauge his reaction.  I realize my hand not only hasn't left his leg, but has actually migrated towards his crotch.  
"Oh!" I laugh, removing it, about to say sorry.  I expect him to want to leave, and he stands, but doesn't make a move towards the exit.  "Maybe we should call it a night?" I ask, hoping to at least save our friendship.  He replies with a relaxed smile. 
"I think the night's just beginning."
Whoa.  I get my game face on, leading them towards the bedroom.  Tim's friend Thomas kisses me again, harder this time, with intention behind it.  He begins to lift my dress up over my head.  I see Tim take off his shirt behind Thomas, revealing his toned upper body, but his eyes are on his masculine friend.  He comes up behind Thomas, lifting his shirt off as well.  Muscles flexing beneath a dark mass of chest hair, Thomas drifts down to my breasts, flicking the nipples through my bra with his tongue.  Tim takes off his jeans; I can see his long erection through his boxer briefs, seeming to stand as tall as his frame, then gets started on Thomas' pants.  He reaches around him to undo the fly, kissing his thick neck from behind, in the process.  Seeing the two men stirs something in me.  Perhaps it's the booze talking, but I feel grateful to see them expressing their attraction in front of me, happy and privileged to witness it.  Being a straight woman, I can't begin to count the possible reasons for gay guys not to, but most I hang out with simply don't engage in PDA.  And damn, it's hot.
The thick Thomas continues southerly, kneeling, kissing my pussy over my panties.  I want him, I want his mouth on me, between me; the teasing is driving me wild.  Tim apprehensively approaches, and I want him, most of all.  His smile is lopsided from the booze, and reminds me of the mismatch in their statures when I first saw them standing beside each other on the porch.  He suddenly leans around Thomas, and kisses my neck.  I lean into him, breathing in the scent of his aftershave, savouring the moment of first contact after desiring it for so long.  A moan escapes my mouth, and he laughs nervously into my neck, glancing away.  Thomas below, pulls my panties down, and lets his tongue slither in between my hungry lips.  Not as demure as when he used his tongue on my mouth, his powerful muscle overwhelms me.  My mouth opens in desire, breathing heavily, one hand in Thomas' hair beneath me, and the other holding Tim's face against mine.  Tim reaches around me, softly struggling, then finally unclasping my bra.  It falls to the carpet, and he smiles sheepishly, glancing down, beholding my breasts for the first time.  Beholding any breasts for the first time, I'm assuming.  Thomas saves him the task, by reaching up to touch them as he kisses my slickly wetting pussy.  As if any more of me can be stimulated, I boldly reach over for Tim's cock, and grope it through his underwear.  His blue eyes go wide for a second, looking at me surprised, then softly close, allowing himself to feel the pleasure without prejudice.  He takes them off, and I am happy to see his long cock nice and hard.  As I think the thought, Thomas pivots on his knees towards Tim.  He grabs Tim's dick, and works it over in his manly hands.  Tim's hips lean forward, straining for more, but I can't imagine anything stronger than Thomas's grip.  I kneel beside Thomas, and kiss his rugged mouth while he jerks Tim's lengthy cock.  It seems crazy, but I suddenly take Tim's cock in my mouth, right there beside Thomas.  He takes his dick out of his pants as well, and starts moving his hand over it while he's kneeling beside me, watching.  He stands then, removing his pants and boxers, so now I have both in front of me.  What's a girl to do? 
I take one in each hand, Thomas' thicker and shorter than Tim's, and begin jerking them both at once.  I look up at them sexily, as I lick the tip of Thomas' girthy cock now, but they are consumed in their own kiss.  Again, the feeling of awe and gratefulness comes over me as I watch the beautiful, yet stirring kiss.  Thomas's square jaw works itself against the softness of Tim's face, as Tim's delicate hand strokes Thomas's dark stubble.  I switch, watching them, swirling my tongue around Tim's thinner dick.  I go back to Thomas, opening my mouth, taking him quickly in and out a few times.  After, I do the same to Tim's.  My mouth is as wet as my pussy, and doesn't betray me.  As I blow them, I can feel the moisture dripping down my lips, and it encourages me to see their kisses intensify as I do it, brows furrowing, moaning deeply and wildly into each others' mouths.  I take more time with each of them, giving them a proper sucking, almost as if the other isn't there.  Like I would with a straight partner.  I grip the base of each in turn, tightly with my hand, bobbing my mouth on the tip, allowing the drool to coat my fist, moistening the hand job.  I guide their hand to their own cocks when I do this to the other, so no one is wanting.
Thomas bends to lift me up off my knees, encouraging me to sit on the edge of the bed.  He lustily kisses me on the mouth, perhaps enjoying the thought of tasting the both of their cocks on me.  He lays me back, his thick cock dangling in front of me, teasing the opening of my pussy, but I want Tim to do it first.  Thomas takes the cue, perhaps aware of my longing for his friend, and includes Tim in another passionate kiss, subtly leading his cock toward me.  Thomas guides the tip in, ever so slightly, so that he won't fumble with it, and nonchalantly bends to kiss my breasts, keeping an eye on Tim, as of making sure he follows through with it.  I close mine, not wanting to pressure Tim, or make him feel self conscious.  I enjoy Thomas on my tits, arching my back towards him and moaning, love the feeling of Tim's cock right about to go in.  It's driving me wild having him there.  Rather, almost there.  My hips naturally tilt upwards, trying to thrust towards him, but his cock remains elusive, dancing nervously over my slick opening.  The anticipation is nearly driving me into a frenzy, feeling myself bear down already, just with the thought of having him inside me.  And then, he lets me have it.
Slowly at first, perhaps a little unsure of how I'd like it to be done, but soon the pleasure of my pussy overwhelms him, and he starts to fuck at his own pace.  I don't want to disturb his concentration so I bite my lip, only grabbing onto his hips, encouraging him to keep going.  Ever time I moan, Thomas muffles it by kissing me on the mouth, but soon he gets a better idea.  Thomas kneels beside my head, and positions his fat cock above me.  I part my lips and take him in, holding him there, continuing to moan unsuccessfully with my mouth full, as Tim continues to fuck me.  My lips naturally move up and down his thick cock, with each of Tim's thrusts.  Thomas grabs my tits again, and I blow his cock in between gasps of ecstasy from what's happening to my pussy.  Tim thrust's have become more confident, rebounding off of me in a steady, intoxicating rhythm.  His long cock fucks me deeply, unknowingly tugging on my g-spot, and I imagine it's the wettest, loveliest thing he's ever had his cock in.  It's this thought that makes me come, suddenly and aggressively, removing Thomas' cock from my mouth to cry out.  I buckle forward, holding Thomas' thick dick tightly in my grip. every muscle seeming to contract at once. 
"Should I stop?"  Tim asks, unsure of the etiquette.  
"Fuck, no!"  I reply loosely, laughing.  He resumes fucking me for a minute or so, me gasping on the end of it, before not knowing any better, and pulling out to come on my stomach.  If he would have asked, I would have told him I was on the pill.  
Then, something amazing happens.  As I stand to wipe myself, Tim uses his lengthy limbs to crawl towards Thomas on the bed, forcing him to lie back.  Thomas' broad chest heaves, his large cock standing straight up and pulsating with every breath.  Tim rests on his elbows, and licks his fair lips in preparation.  He takes Thomas' cock easily, and I realize that Tim must have no gag reflex.  I can only fantasize how it feels to Thomas, and wish that I could experience Tim's incredible mouth on me like that.  He takes him to the hilt, his lips brushing Thomas' pelvis every time he does it.  Thomas' masculine hands grip the sheets, his large chest lifting off the mattress, straining forward.  My mouth drops, both in awe of the spectacle and in an increased effort to take the fleeting, sacred moment in.  I not only desire to know their sex, but the unnamable and unequivocal connection felt between the two men.  

Every muscle seems to flex as Thomas comes; from his gritted jaw to Tim's tight, flexing thighs.  

God, how I wish I was a gay man.  

stepfather.

Sometimes, my stepfather comes into my room at night.

Ever since my eighteenth birthday, I've been noticing a change in his attitude towards me.  For most of high school, it seemed like my he and mother couldn't get me out of the house fast enough; eagerly looking forward to the time that I would go away to college, but something's changed.  Recently I noticed his lingering gaze or hand on my arm, and he begun to suggest that I go to a local college, or even take a couple years off to think about what I really want to do.  Then, he started this new, weird routine of visiting me in my room late at night.

At first, it started off with my step dad sitting on the edge of the bed, tucking me in for bed.  He would thoughtfully draw the covers up over me, patting the tented fabric down around my body.  Though it was kind of sweet to be finally connecting with my new step father, we both realized the awkwardness of this scene, one night when he asked if I wanted him to read from a book he brought.

"I'm a little too old for that, Daddy," I had taken to calling him, as of late, at his recent suggestion.  

"This book is for grown ups, though," he went on.  "That a girl your age should read."

"Alright.  Well, maybe I can read it on my own," I suggest, not wanting to make him feel silly.  Especially since it seems so important to him.  

"That would be just fine," he replied, handing me the book, entitled, A Guide To Womanhood.  Immediately the title strikes me curious.  Maybe it will reveal some of the questions I have about becoming an adult, that I'm too embarrassed to ask my mom or step dad.  I feel my face blush crimson.  Like questions about sex.  

As soon as my step father leaves the room, I turn on the bedside lamp, and discreetly open the secret book.  And there, plain as day, are drawings of men and women's anatomy, from penises to vaginas.  I enthusiastically read on, the words describing everything from menstruation, masturbation, to intercourse, to pregnancy.  So many questions I have are answered, but it only gives birth to a hundred more.  And, most of all, I still don't know what it all feels like.  I sleepily look up at the clock, and hours have passed since I first laid my gaze on the tawdry pages.  I rub my eyes, and shut off the light, thinking I see something scurry outside my bedroom door. 

The next night, my step father tucks me in before bed, as per our newfound routine.  "Now, did you take a look at the book I gave you?"

"Yes, Daddy," I answer, feeling myself blush, at the thought of the sacred book's content.

"And, did you have any questions about anything?"  Oh, gosh.  A hundred.  But, I nervously bite my lip.

"I don't know."

"No?"

"I can't remember any."

"I see.  But, I'm sure you were curious about the things you read."  I nod.  A pregnant pause.  "Well, if you think of any, Daddy's here," he says softly, patting my leg, only the thin sheet between our touch.  Again, I notice him lingering, his warm, large hand emanating heat, even through the thin material.  I feel his eyes on me, but I avert mine, nervously.  After a moment, he takes the cue, and stands to leave.  I have an urge to call him back; to tell him that I do have questions, that I didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but I hear the door click shut behind him.  I click the lights off, adjust to lie on my side, and I notice something.  I'm a little wet in between my legs.  I take a tissue and wipe myself, thinking that I might have gotten my period suddenly, but the tissue remains white as snow.  Also, I notice a very pleasant sensation as I do so.  Remembering what I've learned from the book, I realize that I must be in a state of arousal.  Maybe this is what it means to be a woman, I think, as I suddenly notice parts of my body that I haven't paid much attention to in the past.  

He doesn't visit me for two nights; by then I finish the book, and go back and read it all over again.  I'm tucked in bed, the book beside me, wondering if I scared him off, when I hear the door softly click open.  I can't help but smile, I'm so relieved.  

"Hi sweetheart.  Thought I'd stop in to say goodnight."  I make room in the bed, and he joins me, this time resting his legs up on the bed, as well.  I feel the heat of his body against me, and I kick the sheets off of me, so that we are right next to each other.  My thigh touches his; both of us ready for bedtime in our t-shirts and underwear.  I feel a tingle between my legs, not able to keep the pictures and diagrams from the book out of my head.  For some reason, I think of the picture of a man's erect penis, and my eyes dart to his boxers, wondering now about my step father's.  "What have you been up to?"

"I've been... reading," I offer, feeling the familiar sensation of a blushing face.

"The book I gave you?"

"Yes," I admit.  He laughs, jovially.

"Yes, I was quite interested in things like that when I was your age!"

"You were?"

"Oh, yes.  I masturbated daily.  Sometimes, more than once a day."  My jaw drops in shock, recalling the explicit description of male masturbation in the book.  But, it's accompanied but a sensation of relief.  That it's okay to talk about.  That it's normal.  That it's a part of growing up.

"Lately, I thought about..."  I trail off, despite the burst of confidence, getting suddenly shy.

"Thought about what?"  

"I don't know.  Stuff from the book."

"Well, that's good, sweetheart.  You're around that age.  Is there anything you wanted to ask me?  You know I'm here to help."  I think about the last time he asked me that question, and how I couldn't make myself answer.  Well, two days older and two read-throughs wiser, I swallow, and pipe up.

"I want to know... about sex."

"Yes?"

"I mean... I read about it.  But, I want to know what it's like."

"Yes, it doesn't really do it justice on paper," he laughs, but I feel more serious about the subject.

"Like... how does it feel?"

"It feels... well, it's hard to describe.  It's different for everyone, I suppose."  He gestures with a hand, and it lands on my bare thigh.  The heaviness of his hand is so distracting, that I don't hear anything else.  I see my nipples harden through my t-shirt, and cross my arms to cover them.  I remember what I read in the book about female arousal, and recognize the symptoms in myself, for the first time, right now.  Flushed face, genitals engorged, sensitive skin.  The desire to be touched.  

I picture the hand on my thigh moving slightly between my legs, but I can't even fathom what that would feel like.  I long to grab his hand, and force it there, but my extreme uncertainly about this new thing called sex stops me.  But it's normal, I hear him say in my mind.  And he wants me to be open with him about it.  If there's anyone I should do things like that with, it's him.  Right?  I wish I could ask.  

Before I know it, he's patted me on the head, said goodnight, and is almost out the door.  "Wait," I hear myself say.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He says, approaching the bed.   

"Could I have a goodnight kiss?"  There's an expression on his face that I can't exactly read; like there's something going on inside him that I can't see.  Or maybe, it's something on the outside, but still hidden from view.  He slowly sits on the edge of the bed again, and my heart beats so heavily, that he must be able to hear it.  My mouth is slightly open, as if already taking him in, and I tilt my head back, anticipating.  He leans down to me, unsure of where to kiss me, but I show him pretty quickly where I want it.  Something comes over me, and my hand creeps up to his neck, directing his head closer, and his lips to mine.  

His lips are tight at first, but I relax mine, opening my mouth a little, like I've seen girls do in movies.  He immediately follows suit, and I feel his warm tongue enter my mouth.  The intensity of having someone's tongue inside me, makes me very wet between the legs.  I can tell even without touching, because I feel the muscles coming alive down there, almost like they are contracting, wanting to reach out or take something in.  My entire body feels different, in fact; I suddenly feel parts of me energize, like my nipples, my neck, my skin, my... pussy.  I feel like this body isn't mine.  It's his.

He slowly lays down with me, kind of beside me and on top of me at the same time, and I feel his weight against my side.  I feel his stubble against my face as we kiss, and I feel his large leg drift around mine.  I feel something else, too.  I feel the hard thing between his legs that I now know to be his erection.  I picture the diagram from the pages, the one with the plump head, thick shaft, and bulging veins; and I think I can imagine how it would feel inside me now, as my hips naturally tilt forward, pussy engorged and wanting it.  His large hands grab my unbound breasts through my t-shirt, and I feel the tingly tightening again between my legs.  I let my jaw relax into his, and his tongue explores my mouth, then drifts down my neck.  I hear myself utter a small sound, but Daddy's hand goes to my lips, silencing me.  He could do just this all night, as far as I'm concerned, and I altogether realize what those bruise marks were on the girls' necks at school.  I can't believe I never knew about this until now.  All those years spent wastefully concentrating on other marks; the ones on paper.  

He skips my clothed breasts, instead moving his mouth to my bare stomach, where he discreetly lifts the t-shirt.  He also peels down my underwear a little bit, and I feel my pussy produce that mysterious clear substance in anticipation of... I don't even know what.  He wetly kisses my hips, and I feel equally as wet between my legs.  Then, he does something surprising.  He pulls my underwear right down, exposing my naked lower half, which is just as embarrassing as it is arousing.  Even more alarmingly, he puts his mouth on me.  But, not as delicately as it sounds.  He sloppily licks and sucks at my glistening folds, making a wet mess of himself, and the bed.  I feel such an intense pressure on my genitals, that it's almost like when I have to pee.  But, before long, I stop caring about anything else.  I stop thinking about how embarrassingly wet I am, how I must taste and smell, and keep telling myself that it's all normal.  But, how could this be normal?  Are all real women getting their dripping wet pussies practically devoured by men?  It's hard to fathom.  But, if it's true, then I'm glad to enter into womanhood. But, how awkward that we are all bound by this dirty, sloppy secret called sex.

As if that isn't enough, he removes his own underwear, finally revealing the thing.  Thicker and longer than I expected, it bows under its own weight, slightly to one side.  The tips leaks out a droplet of clear liquid, similar to my own, but he doesn't seem shameful of it at all.  Maybe I will learn not to be, as well.  I have so much to learn.  He lay on top of me, though holding his weight on his elbows, and I feel his erection touch my sensitive pussy.  We kiss again and I welcome his mouth into me, but his penis doesn't go in quite yet.  In fact, it feels like he can't find my opening, as it fumbles around my wetness for a while.  I thrust forward, trying to angle myself appropriately, but it continues to slide over my lubricated folds.  He almost drives me crazy with the anticipation, until I realize that that's the whole point of this particular dance.  He knows exactly what he's doing; of course he does, and as soon as I realize it, he slips in.  

"Thatta girl," he utters, lifting himself onto his hands now, but I wish we continued to kiss, as a distraction.  I wish he was back on top of me; I liked that, liked the closeness. I suddenly feel tense and tight, and self conscious of him looking down at me.  As opposed to before, where I could feel everything, now I can't seem to feel much at all.  "Good girl," he says again.  "You're taking that really good for your first time."

"Yeah?"  I ask, encouraged by the compliment.  He knows it's my first time.  He'll take care of me.

"Yeah.  You're really good at taking Daddy's cock."  

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, sweetheart.  You're Daddy's good little girl, aren't you?"  He seems to be enjoying it, and begins to give me more, a little faster, like something's come over him.  His face contorts, and small grunts make their way past his prickly lips.  He thrusts fast and short, then almost seems to move in slow motion, as he pulls his cock out of me, cries out as if in pain, and squirts into my stomach.  It's unlike the clear liquid from before, and has a salty smell.  This sex thing sure is messy.  I almost want to laugh at its absurdity.  

"Was that good?" I ask, still looking for answers about how sex feels, because I'm not sure I did it right. 

"Great, sweetheart," he responds dreamily, kissing me on the forehead, and grabbing a tissue.  "I think you enjoyed it, too.  Didn't you?"  I nod.  I've gone silent again.  "Now, don't tell your mother, do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"If you keep it a secret, then Daddy will show you how to have an orgasm, just like he did," he says while wiping my belly clean. "Well, similar to that.  Girls are different."

"Alright, Daddy."  

"Alright, dear.  Goodnight."  He kisses me again on the hair, then steps back into his shorts, and softly shuts the door behind him.  I take a tissue and quickly blot between my legs, revealing a small spot of blood.  I know from the book, that my hymen broke.  But, it's normal.  

It's all part of becoming a woman.    

black history lesson.

I find my substitute teacher so sexy.

I can't help it.  I love black men.  He's up there, lecturing in his velvety voice, and I can't hear anything but dirty things coming out of his mouth.  I'll take words the wrong way, hear words like "next" as "sex", or "shock" as "cock", and I even mistakenly, perhaps hopefully, hear him say my name.  He's saying something like "darker".  Which, considering the situation, is sexy in itself, as well.

"Miss Parker?"  The deep, rumbling voice again.  But, actually saying my name this time.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you have a minute?"  I approach his desk apprehensively, while the rest of the students file out.  I'm almost scared to get near him, for fear I might do something rash.  When the last person leaves, he shuts the door behind them.  I look at his tight ass through his slacks.  He turns around.

"I want to talk to you about your last few submissions," Mr. Tanner says.  Submissions, hmm.  I would gladly submit to him.  I take a breath.  Since he's become my teacher, my marks have been slipping, and I know it.  But, I can't concentrate, no longer how hard I try.  All I do is stare at him all class, looking from his chiselled jaw, to his broad shoulders, to his thick, muscular thighs... I'm unreasonably, illogically attracted to him.  It's as if he holds some sort of control over me.  Suddenly, Mr. Tanner looks at me expectantly.  Uh, oh.  Did he ask me a question?

"Sorry?"

"That's what I'm talking about.  Your uncanny ability to drift off in class."

"Right."

"Is it that you're not being challenged enough?  Or, is the class moving too quickly for you, since I've taken over?"  You can take me over anytime.  

"The problem isn't the class, sir."

"Then, what is it?"

"I..."  I glance to his chest.  I picture the defined pecs underneath his button down shirt.  I picture him wet, for whatever reason; wet and glistening, with beads of water falling down his dark, smooth contours.  I force my eyes back up to his.  "I'll try harder."  Mmm, harder.  He takes a slow step towards me, and I feel my pussy strain.

"You can tell me.  Is there a problem at home?  You seemed to be doing alright in the class until very lately, when there's been a sharp dip in your grades."

"I... Maybe, I need some after class mentoring."

"Mentoring?"

"Um... yeah.  Maybe I need something a little more... one-on-one," I venture, looking up into his big, chocolatey eyes.

"Alright.  I hear you.  What did you have in mind?"

"Well..." I gather my courage, and step directly in front of his large, intimidating figure.  "Let me show you."

I have to stand on my toes to reach his mouth.  I place my hands on his smoothly shaved face, and part my lips to take his thick bottom lip into my mouth.  He lets me finish the kiss, but interrupts a second one.  "I'm your teacher, Miss Parker."

"My substitute.  And, I think you can call me Janine," I whisper, before I take his earlobe into my mouth.  "And, this is not about getting a better grade.  Trust me,"  I add, kissing his strong, ebony neck, then finding his lips again.  He reciprocates now, opening his mouth to give me his muscular, warm tongue.  I can feel the power of his jaw, the strength of his large hands, as he places one on my cheek, and the other on the back of my neck. I grow wet between my legs, at the heavy, controlling feeling of his hands on me.  I couldn't get away from this six and a half foot, granite carved pillar of a man if I tried.  But, let me clarify, I have never wanted to be anywhere more in my life.  

"Then, what is it about?"  He continues questioning me in his warm bass, weighty hand still on my neck.

"I want you," I say, all intense sincerity.  I'm melting vanilla ice cream in his hands.  His mouth moves down my neck, towards my chest.

"And does this white girl get everything she wants?"  Tension in my pussy again at the words "white girl".  I want to deny it, but I probably do get most of what I want.  White privilege, and all that.

"Yes," I try.  What will he think of that?  That I'm a little brat, or a driven young woman?  His warm, wet mouth moves down my open blouse.  He unclasps a button, and I almost can't believe where this is going.  

"And what exactly do you want?"  He presses.  I moan, immediately picturing his big black cock.  But, I can't say it.  Can I?  I'm speechless, having never spoken in this way before. He continues to unbutton my shirt, and kisses me deeply on the mouth as he kneads my lace covered breast through my open shirt.  "Tell me what you want," he insists.

"I..."  He plunges his tongue down my throat, holding the nape of my neck in the grip of one strong hand.  My pussy floods moisture.

"Suddenly so shy.  Eh, white girl?"  He aggressively kisses my neck, and peels my bra up over my tits, so that they are exposed under it.  He bends his tall frame to suck on my small breasts while he unbuttons his own shirt.  "I know what you want."

"Mmm.  Yeah?"  Please don't make me say it.  Am I even allowed to say things like that?  Is it racist?  My eyes unconsciously go from the exposed dark sliver of chest down to his bulge, which has noticeably grown through his slacks in the past few minutes.  It's hypnotizingly large already, and I doubt that he's fully hard.  I tear my eyes away from it, raising them to meet his.  He watches me the whole time.  

He suddenly turns me around so that I'm facing the desk, heavy hand on my throat, and mouth hissing in my ear.  

"Do you want it?"  He presses his cock against my ass.  I can clearly feel his erection through my skirt now, and I'm so wet that I'm conscious I'm actually dripping down my leg.  

"Mmm, yeah."

"Do you?"  He barks, humping his hips into my butt.   

"Ohh, god.  Yeah."  I hear him unzip his fly behind me, and a strong hand on my back bends me over the desk.  I hastily pull down my underwear, but they only make it to my knees.  Then, I feel his dick.  I'm incredibly wet and ready, but only part of it will enter me at first.  

"Tell me what you want, white girl."  He's prompting me, repeatedly mentioning my colour, but I still can't say it.  It feels so fucking sexy when he taunts me though, and my pussy tenses every time.  Like it's bad.  I'm not supposed to like it.  I'm not supposed to like big, black dicks.  

He fills me completely, but I know he hasn't even given me half yet.  He grabs my little ass, and bobs the tip of his dick into my dripping pussy.  I stay splayed out on the desk, grabbing the edge of the desk, knocking some paperwork to the floor.  I moan desperately, punctuated with each quick thrust.  He then grabs my shoulders, pulling me upright, giving me more of his thick cock.  He pumps into me deeper now, forearms across my bare chest, and I squeal, beside myself with pleasure.  His mouth grazes my ear again, and I feel my pussy drip down my leg.  

"Is this what you want?  Hmm?"

"Ohh.  God.  Yeah," I manage, with each thrust.

"Yeah?"  He insists.  He reaches down to my clit, lifting my skirt to rub it frantically.  His mouth sucks on my neck.  I feel him fill me.

"Fuck!  Yeah!"  He gives me more, almost his full length, now. It's so big, it can't help but hit my g-spot.  

"You want my big, black dick, don't you?"

"Yes!  Fuck!"

"Say it."

"Fuck!  Yes!"

"Say what you want."  

"I want your dick!"

"Yeah?"  This encourages him.  He gives me the whole fucking thing, putting me in a vice-like embrace, ramming me from behind.  I feel my small tits shake with each aggressive pounding.  "You want this black dick, don't you?"

"Yes!  Fuck!"

"Say you want my big, black dick."

"Fuck!  I want your big, black dick!"  Oh god, here it comes.  I feel myself let him in.  Really let him in.  I'm coming.  I'm coming on his big, black dick.  "Fuck, fuck, fuck!!"  

He flips me around; I'm still gasping.  He backs me up onto the desk, the edge cutting into my bare ass, another binder crashing to the floor in the process.  His smooth, glistening chest heaving with laboured breath.  He grabs my hips, lifting me onto the edge of the desk, my leg wrapping around his tight ass, his cock slipping inside me easily now, despite its size.  I groan as he re-enters me.  

"Did you come, white girl?  Hmm?  Did you come on this big, black dick?"  He starts thrusting again, giving it to me slowly now, really laying into me, so that I can feel every inch of his enormous cock.  His face looms over mine, his large, powerful jaw hanging slightly open in concentration.  I groan loudly.  "Your little white pussy feels so... fucking.  Good."  Each word with a very deliberate thrust.  Fuck, I love it when he talks like that.  Fuck me, you Nubian God.  I'm all yours.  I'm your white slut who creams over black dicks.

He does, sending my ecstatic moans up into the echo of the lecture hall.  Suddenly, he slows down, grunts loudly, and pulls out.  He holds his massively thick black cock in his hand, jerking it for a second, before spurting hot liquid all over my bare tits and mid drift.

Leaning over me and the desk, weight in his large hands, Mr. Tanner catches his breath.  I saucily notice the pool of come between my breasts, and use a finger to draw an "A+" in it.  He looks up, chuckling through his heaving breath.  

"I thought this wasn't about the grades."

sugar baby (part nine).

*This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*


SEXY TEASER:

Almost immediately when we get to the Sugar Convention, an unattractive man greets me and engages me in conversation.
“Hey there, gorgeous.  You looking?”  
“Uhh, no.  Thanks.” 
“I’ll treat you right, baby.  I’ll put you up in a condo, give you a car, the whole works.”
“Not interested.  Sorry,” I say uncomfortably, trying to move around him.
“Hey.  You whores think you have golden fucking pussies, or something?”  He says, hissing into my ear, and grabbing my arm.  I pull it away quickly, before anyone manages to see.  I look around for Stephen, but when I turn back, the man is gone.

sugar baby (part eight).

*This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*


SPICY EXCERPT:

His mouth moves to my neck, and I'm able to notice something. 
People.  On the street.  Obviously curious about the reveal of the new business, some of them are trying to peek around the paper covering the windows.  How much they can see is close to nil, with the daylight outside and the dimness in the room, but the fact that I see them looking is intensely arousing.
I feel my nipples harden as Stephen continues to knead my breasts, and I venture to feel up his cock through his pants.  I glance once more towards the window, at the people trying to watch.  I want them to see.  I want them to see me take this hard cock.  Watch me, I think.  Watch me and my Daddy.  I know you all want to.  I see the way you look at us.

sugar baby (part seven).

*This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*


SEXY TEASER:

"So, how are things going with your SD?  Or do you have two yet?"

"No!  No.  Just the one.  I only want one, probably."

"Oh.  Are you guys exclusive already?  Shit.  Good for you.  That's where the real money's at!"  

"Well, we haven't said anything for sure, but..."

"Wait," Christine buts in.  "You know SD's come here to cruise other Babies, right?  And you should be doing it to, too.  Looking for another Daddy, I mean.  That's the point of these things.  You'll find good, quality SD's here.  Take my word for it."

"Oh.  Uh, thanks.  We're taking it kinda slow, though.  I don't think we're doing that."

"You may not be, but he is..." She gestures over to Stephen, talking to one of his friends, whose SB hangs off his arm.  Dawn pipes back in.

"Don't listen to her.  Only you know what's going on between you and your Daddy.  Complete honesty is the only way these things work.  And we can do that, because emotions aren't involved, right?  It's all business, here."

"Right," I answer, honestly feeling a little unwell.  "Excuse me."

sugar baby (part six).

*This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*


SAUCY TEASER:

"Maybe I can bring you some pastries, next time," I smile.  He looks so handsome in his day suit.  The colour really compliments him.  Suddenly, I notice Jeremy eyeing me from the kitchen, and my face drops.  I hope he didn't see the way I was looking at Stephen just then.

"Everything alright, my dear?"

"Hmm?  Yes!  Fine!  I should get back, though.  Good evening sir!!"  I manage to joke one final time, despite the panic.  I also feel bad giving him the slip, as I speed walk back through the doors.  "Sorry!  I wanted to grab a drink!"

"That's fine.  Who was that?"

"Who?  At the bar?  A regular, I guess.  He likes my cannoli."

"Oh yeah..."  Jeremy says skeptically.

"Yeah!  Just wanted to tell me so.  Anyway, I'm going to get to these orders!  'Scuse me!"   I take a deep breath.  It's fine.  It's all fine.

sugar baby (part five).

*This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*


SPICY EXCERPT:

Pulling up in a full length limo this time, I just shake my head at  Stephen.  "You really don't have to do this every time," I tease.

"Oh, let me.  After all, we are still in our honeymoon phase.  I still feel the need to impress you.  Win you over."  If only he knew.  

"Tsk, tsk, Stephen.  You know I'm not one of those girls."

"I know you are not.  Just the opposite."

sugar baby (part four).

*This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*


SAUCY TEASER:

“So, how long have you guys been... at it?”

“A couple years.  I have three SD’s right now, so I’m not paying for shit.  Condo, car, food, wine, clothes, hair, nails... it’s all covered.  I’m living the life, baby!  You know?”

“She’s like, our idol,” Kelly finally pipes in.

“I’m doing alright,” Christine corrects her.  “My Daddy wanted to buy me a fur coat, but I was like, that’s gross!”

“That’s great, Christine.” Dawn says sarcastically, at which Christine scoffs.

“Anyway, you got to work your way up, you know?  Everybody’s got to start somewhere.”

“Right.  Well, I’m just going to try it out.  Just for a couple months, probably.”

“That’s what they all say.  When you can finally quit your job waitressing at a shitty diner though, you’ll be singing another tune.”

“Yeah.  Well...”

“You’ll see.  And all you’ve got to do is give a couple blowjobs a week?  Give me a break!  Most girls are giving that shit away for free.  SB’s are smart, you know?”

“Mm hm,” I nod, feeling a little intimidated by her.  And I thought I was direct.  I look around for Stephen.  Luckily, he catches my eye and waves me over.  “Well, nice to meet you guys.  Duty calls.”

“Good luck, girl.”

“You’ll need it,” Christine says under her breath.

sugar baby (part three).

 *This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*


SPICY EXCERPT:

Like Stephen said, I’m not the norm.  Sugar Babies are by and large: sexy, fun, and easy going, with a youthful energy.  Not that I can’t be those things.  I’m actually looking forward to indulging that side of me, for once.  And despite what it looks like, it’s actually a very logical approach to dating, which is attractive to me.  Besides a general, mutual feeling of familiarity, it’s mostly; as Stephen emphasized, business.  That said, there is something prevalent, though not outwardly stated, throughout everything I read.  Sex.    

I get out my cell phone.

“Stephen?”

“Yes, Kat.  How are you?”

“Can we meet?”

sugar baby (part two).

*This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*


SAUCY TIDBIT:
                        

“Let me explain.  With the utmost respect, I am proposing this to you.  Some men, myself included, enter into mutually beneficial relationships with young women such as yourself.  Unlike you, do to your maturity level; most women that enter into these relationships are only looking for a little extra spending money, extravagant gifts, and an expensive evening out, like the one we are having tonight.  Sometimes, I come across a woman that is in need of help paying rent, who is supporting a child alone perhaps, or repaying loans, to get her life back on track financially.  I have only heard of it until now, but you fall into a third category, of smart, independent women looking for an investment in their future.”   

“Mm hm,” I nod, eyes slightly narrowed.  I go to take another sip from my glass, but it’s empty.  I redden, a little embarrassed to ask the obvious question.  “And what do these women provide for you in return?”

sugar baby (part one).

*This entry has been removed due to future publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)*


SEXY TEASER:

I begin forming the shells for the cannoli, and dunking them into the deep fryer.  They cool on a rack, before I fill each one with cream, and garnish them with berries and sifted icing sugar.  The rest of the front of house team arrives as I’m dusting them, and one of the waitress comes into the kitchen, excitedly.

“Kat!  Do you want to play, Date, or Dad?”

“Sorry?”

“Date, or Dad?  At the bar.  What do you think?”  I glance out towards the bar, and see the forty-something fellow that greeted me when I came in.  He’s usually alone, but an attractive, European young woman has joined him now, and seems very interested in what he is saying.  She laughs, and touches his arm.  I wouldn’t say that she is any more good looking than I am, but is all done up, wearing a smart dress and heels, and I can see her designer purse from here.  

“That’s a date.  Definitely.”

“I know!  Gross!”  I look again.  The man, despite being a little older, is actually quite handsome.  I’ve been with my share of misguided boys to see the attraction in someone that has established a life for himself.  And, he probably bought her that Louis Vuitton.  If you care about stuff like that.    

“Well, whatever floats your boat,” I say, going back to my station.

stepfather.

     Sometimes, my stepfather punishes me.  

      I don't remember getting in trouble so much when I was little, but it seems to be happening more and more now that I'm older.  And I know exactly why.  It's because I started touching myself.

     I don't know where they come from, but lately I've been getting these urges.  I sit at my vanity and light a candle, brushing my long dark hair, and gazing at my newly found womanly beauty.  Suddenly, my skin looks clear, my lips have filled out, and my eyes look alluring and seductive.  I know it's evil to see myself like this.  I pray about it almost every night, but still I come back to the mirror.  I remove my robe and notice my breasts, which have become very large and full in the last couple years, and suddenly I'm thinking of someone touching them.  The small, dark patch of hair between my legs grows moist and warm.  Lately, I venture to touch the spot.  I lie on my bed, part my legs, and explore the part of myself that I know so little about.  I just want to figure out what's happening to me.  My stepfather home schooled me, so I don't have any friends to ask, and my mother has been gone a long time.  What's worse, it that he keeps catching me doing it, and I still can't stop.  He'll open the door, seeing me shamelessly sprawled out on my bed.  The first time he found me, I got slapped clean across the face.  He's yelled at me, locked me in my room without food, even wrapped my hands in bandages.  I don't know what to do with myself, and I'm sure he doesn't either.  Lately, I see an odd look in his eye, almost like my sickness is contagious.  Even though I'm almost a full grown woman, he bent me over his knee and spanked me.  After he gave me a few hard slaps on my backside, he rubbed the red area awhile before getting up, and leaving very suddenly.

     Tonight, I begin my ritual.  I take a bath, towel myself off, and brush my hair in the mirror.  Perhaps it's my body expecting the inevitable, but I'm already wet.  I remove my housecoat, watching my nipples harden, and my pupils dilate.  I reach down to touch myself, right here at the vanity.  Just then, my stepfather bursts in.  I gasp, turning around, and reaching for my robe.  
     "I just got out of the bath!  I'm just brushing my hair.  See?"  I wince, cowering for my punishment.  He walks towards me menacingly, not saying a word.  He stares at me for a moment, perhaps deciding what would be appropriate, then speaks up.  
     "Get on the bed.  I'm going to teach you a lesson."  Fearing another spanking, I hang my head, and walk over.  Not that it hurt much; in fact, I'm embarrassed to say that in my present state, it almost felt pleasurable.  If this is supposed to be a regular punishment from now on, I can't say that it will help me stop touching myself, as I usually do so twice as vigorously after he spanks me.  He sits on the edge of the bed.  "It's for your own good,"  he says, grabbing my hand, forcing me over his lap.  Almost dripping with moisture between my legs, I obey.  My face reddens, realizing the new depth to my sickness, that I enjoy being punished in this way.  I have never felt so ashamed and confused.  I feel him raise his hand, bracing for the smack, but it doesn't come.  

     Instead, he softly feels my backside, like he did after yesterday's spanking.  I wish he would just do it, and leave.  This is almost worse; the shame that it feels good.  "I'm going to teach you a lesson," he says, again.  "I'm only doing this to help you."  With that, he spreads the cheeks of my ass, and touches my asshole, still very lightly.  Oh god, no.  I can't take it.  He applies a bit of pressure, and I feel the tips of his fingers wanting inside.  The thought of it makes me reach for my pussy, but he smacks my hand away.  
     "No," he says.  "Every time you think of touching yourself, I want you to think of this."  Then, his fingers begin to burrow inside.  He spits on me, maybe out of spite, right in between my ass cheeks.  I feel my pussy more slippery than ever; it must be dripping down my leg by now.  I intinctively reach for it again, but he grabs both my wrists in only one of his large fists, and holds them against the bed.  With his other hand, he massages me open, and it feels like he has his whole hand in there.  I realize it must only be a finger, when he puts another inside.  He corkscrews them in, trying to get in this very tight place.  I try to hold it shut, but he spits again, and easily works them in.  He tries for a third, and I can't believe he is wanting more in there, can't believe more could fit.  My pussy now actually drips on his lap, and I feel something hard beneath me, and I realize it must be his cock.  I struggle to get out of his grasp, only to massage my clit again, but he holds my hands firmly in his.  
     "If you want to be touched, this is the only place that will be.  Do you understand?"  I moan my reply. 
    "Yesss!"  He spits a third time, getting that third finger inside.  He wiggles them, trying to open up the area, and I have to admit, I relax my ass for a quick moment, just to see if it would feel any better.  He notices immediately. 
     "There, that's better.  I know you don't like it, but this is all you're going to get.  It will go easier if you just relax."  He unzips his fly underneath me, unbuttons his pants.  He tells me to get on my hands and knees.  I do so, all with his hand still halfway in my ass.  In this new position, he moves it around a bit more, and I reach one final time for my pussy to stroke while he does this to me.  He grabs my wrists, leaning onto them with all his weight now.  "I think you're ready," he breathes into my ear.  Then, I feel something else begin to enter me.  I try to keep it out, but he is in control of me.  I desperately want to rub my pussy; it drips uselessly onto the bed.  I feel the tip of his cock opening my asshole, now.  Thicker and deeper than his fingers, and I know it's only halfway in.  He thrust slightly, trying to get my to relax it, but I can't.  It's too big.  I'm going to explode with desire for him to be inside my pussy instead.  But I'm so bad, I get this instead.  I deserve it.  This is for my own good.  He is helping me.  With that thought, I am able to give myself over to it, and take the rest of him in.  
     "There,"  he says, giving me his whole cock.  "That's it.  It'll be over soon."  I bear down, my face in the sheets, and take my punishment.  He thrusts steadily, jerking his cock with my tight asshole, until he finally gets himself off.  I feel his hot semen inside, and am almost grateful for the lubricant, as he continues fucking for another few thrusts.  After he withdraws, he says in a low voice, "It's up to you if this happens again."      

     I will never touch myself again.  Probably.