TABOO TALES(erotica)

His shafted skewered into her, pressing aside the lips of her pussy, sliding down through her pelvic girdle and into the deep warmth of her belly. She was spectacularly tight, the walls of her cunt rubbing against him throughout the penetration, squeezing against the shaft like a tight fist in a velvet glove until he was fully inside her, the root of his cock pressed up hard against the lips of her pussy. She moaned softly at the depth and rotated her hips gently, her anus pressed outwards and slightly open with the pressure of his penetration. He could see it was still weeping moisture, a legacy to the wad he had pumped into her last night. She is insatiable, he thought, a little fucking machine, and I’m inside her again. He began to thrust, reveling in her youth and the delicious warmth and wetness, watching the long slide of his shaft into her tight, writhing body and he heard her voice, gusty and breathless as the words spilled from her mouth.

“God, Ben, that’s good! That’s… good! Fuck this tight little cunt…. oohh, fuck it deep… fill me, spurt into me!”

Her words coalesced in his brain, spurring him on so that he was pounding down into her, the mattress squeaking and protesting, her back arching to take the force of his thrusts. She was grunting now, a gusty explosion of sound each time he hammered down, and her hands fluttered on the bed to grasp the rumpled sheets in tight little fists of pain.

The whirlwind of his orgasm took root in Ben’s mind, whirling upwards, racing towards a crescendo of white hot pleasure. His vision narrowed until he could only see the long greased piston of his shaft and the warm young cunt it was fucking, and he threw his head back to cry out in rapture as his burning seed trembled on the brink of bursting into her.

And in that quintessential moment she lunged away, breaking free, spinning on the bed and clutching his bobbing cock to hold it at her mouth, her hand small and white against the engorged shaft. She frantically rubbed her wet lips over the trembling head, her tongue snaking out to lap at its underside, tickling and teasing, drawing him out like a man on the rack. For long moments he teetered on the edge, the room a maelstrom of white noise and grainy, powdered light – and then the force of his orgasm burst upon him and he growled in exquisite agony as his seed raced along the twitching shaft and burst against her burning mouth.

The first jet struck her lips, rebounding with the force of his ejection, exploding into a shower of sparkling droplets like a handful of opals flung into the air. There was a pause and then his balls jerked upwards and a second jet followed, thicker than the first, splattering across her face to fill her eye sockets in puddles of jism as hot and thick as clotted cream. He was grunting, an animal sound drawn from deep within his body, and his eyes glittered as he watched the long, hot jets spraying over her face and drenching her cheeks: seven or eight of them, a seemingly endless stream that splattered and dribbled and bubbled over her face, pooling in every crevice and hanging in thick, slimy ropes from her chin.

She waited until his cock subsided and the last dribbles of his seed oozed over her lips, and then she released his shaft and sat back. He could see strands of his cum drooling into her mouth, and her teeth were coated with a clinging layer of it, dulling their white, shiny surface. With careful fingers she scooped his sperm off her face, shoveling it into her mouth, laughing all the while. It oozed and dripped into the cavity, painting her lips and tongue, pooling at the back of her throat. She licked the sticky mess off her fingers like a child licking a paddle pop, her little pink pointed tongue delving between her fingers to draw out the clots of his sperm, and then, with her baby blue eyes on his face, she swallowed it, murmuring with pleasure.

Ben watched, his heart hammering in his chest. She is a little fucking machine, he thought again, and we only have our lust to bind us together. Have I forsaken all that I had for this?

He turned away, his cock subsiding, and Sophie sank back onto the bed with her shiny wet lips smiling up at him in misunderstanding.

Monday Morning 1000

Sophie regarded herself in the bedroom mirror. She was wearing something she had bought last week, and she was pleased with the effect that it gave.

The mirror reflected the image of a stunning young woman dressed in the latest fashion – a crisp white blouse, tailored to hug her waist, and a linen skirt that clung to her hips, reaching down to just above her knees. Her legs were sheathed in sheer nylon stockings, the seam marching down the back of each calf, and she wore expensive Armani high heels in an exact matching shade of Navy blue. The jacket was pinched at the waist, with wide lapels with a small silver brooch that complimented the slim chain and pearl pendant around her neck, and her hair was up, piled on her head to give her additional height and to expose her small, neat ears and the long graceful sweep of her neck.

She fastened her pearl earrings and stood back to check herself with a critical eye. She looked good, she thought – high class, good enough to pass in the highest circles. It was amazing what a suit of clothes and a little bravado could do. She turned slightly, regarding her belly. There was no sign of the swelling yet – the thickening of the waist that she knew was coming. Another two months, she thought, and then I will be totally dependent on Ben, at least for a while.

Her mobile phone rang and she glanced at the number, remembering to put on the sophisticated voice. “Hello?”

“Are you running on time?”

She felt a punch of excitement at what was about to happen again. “Oh, yes, absolutely. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Right.” The connection clicked and she smiled fondly as she returned the phone to her purse. This would be her sixth time with him, and she knew it would be memorable. She picked up her handbag and wandered through to the kitchen to find the car keys, her excitement at what was about to happen like a little tickle in her stomach. She laughed with the joy of it all – life was so easy, and she was at the centre of it all, her own keeper.

The house was set back from the road and she parked to the side, screened by the tall privet hedge. Sophie let herself in through the side door her heels tapping on the polished hardwood floor, and entered the lounge. This was his hideaway house, she knew, but it was opulent for all of that. It was furnished in the old style, with the Chesterfield suite sitting primly on the thick oatmeal coloured carpet, complemented by the thick velvet drapes and the rich timber hue of the coffee table and the polished sideboards. The full -length leadlight windows at the end of the room gave way to the patio, and then the long sweep of the lawn with the gazebo visible just beyond. Sophie regarded it with envious eyes. One day I will have something like this, if I am careful.

She put her car keys on the table and turned as she heard his footsteps. As usual, he was immaculate, dressed in a beautifully tailored suit of English broadcloth with a crisp white shirt and a blue tie. He smiled at her, his teeth very white against his dark skin.

“Sophie! You look beautiful, my dear. May I compliment you on the suit?”

“Thank you, Ramal. I took your advice.”

He embraced her lightly, a trace of expensive aftershave on his skin. “So I see – an improvement, don’t you think?”

“You were right, as always. Do you have much time today?”

He glanced at the slim gold Piaget on his wrist. “A little, only, I’m afraid. I have business in the city this afternoon – but enough to spend an hour or two with you. May I get you something?”

“Thank you, no.”

“Then why don’t we go upstairs? I have a small gift for you.” He smiled again. “Nothing special, I assure you, but I hope you like it.”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Sophie smiled as she followed him to the bedroom. Ramal’s gifts were never small, at least in terms of their value. Some diamond earrings, perhaps, or a gold necklace. Another treasure to add to the growing collection in the safe deposit box – another step towards financial security.

He left three hours later, leaving her lying in the rumpled bed. His trust was one of the things she liked about him, but she also knew that he would be merciless if she crossed him. He was a gentleman in so many ways, she thought, but if you scratched the surface you there was steel underneath – a hard streak of ruthlessness and power that was like a narcotic to her.

Her body ached from his attention, and she could feel his semen leaking from her vagina and anus. There was blood on the sheets too, from the scratches she had inflicted on his back. She rolled over, picking up the slim pile of banknotes on the bedside table. Five hundred dollars in crisp $100 bills – not a bad paycheck, and there were three other appointments with similar men this week alone. She lay down and carefully put the crisp green notes over the fine, wet hair on her pudenda, and she looked at it and laughed at the thought of what her little money box was earning now.

The opulence of the room was so different from the shabby little bedsitter she had been brought up in, and her mind drifted back, thinking of the day that had changed her life.

The door opening, and her stuffy little room suddenly bright as her mother switched on the light.

She was stood at the door with a heavily bearded man dressed in an old reefer jacket and brown pants. He was large, his head barely clearing the doorjamb, and his protruding belly stretched the fabric of his shirt, forcing aside the lower buttons to reveal a strip of grey flesh under the stained material.