erotica – Page 3 – My Blog

Hold Me Down

Del paddled his feet under the comforter until it was perfectly situated. He pulled the edge up to his chin, lifted one arm out, changed his mine and tucked it back under, and fiddled with the remote several times. He kept glancing towards the door, imagining soft footfalls outside.

They came at long last, followed by a slinky, dark-haired woman. She wore a bright red sports bra and a pair of unbuttoned jeans. Behind these, he could just make out the straps of her harness.

She raised an eyebrow at him as she closed the door. "Hiding from me?“

Del started and popped out from under the covers. He smoothed them on her side of the bed and smiled uncertainly. "No? Yes? I have no idea what the right answer is here.”

She laughed before catching herself and falling back into character, smacking the gum in the corner of her mouth. "Ass up,“ she said, and Del held himself in the air while she slipped a towel underneath him. She bent low and just barely brushed her lips against his half-erect cock. He shuddered and lay still, watching as she unzipped her jeans and tugged them off.

The toy strapped into the harness was long and black and smooth. He eyed it dubiously. "That’s bigger than the last one, Megs.”

“Shhhh.” She put her finger to his lips, gently peeling his lower lip down into a pout, which made her laugh. "I promise I won’t push you further than you can go.“

Del made a tiny whimpering noise but nodded. Even in her swaggering male persona, Megan respected his limitations. No meant no for her, just as it did when they reversed roles. Now she was palming her cock, dribbling lube from the bottle along its length. She caught the excess on her fingers and surprised him by ringing his asshole with it and popping her finger inside. Del gasped and stiffened. Megan kissed his cock again. "Relax. It’s so much better that way.”

“I know,” he said through gritted teeth, “but I’m terrified, and fuckin’ rightly so.”

She smiled that infuriating smile again and gave her cock one last stroke. "All right. Legs up, hold them to your chest, like you want to give me everything you’ve got.“ She tilted forward on all fours, wriggling her hips until she got into place. Del closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensations of touch. Her hair tickling his knees. Her breath scattering over his stomach as she sought the right angle. The smooth tip of the toy, teasing at his asshole.

She slipped it in, just barely. Del’s whole body seized up, but in time with Megan’s gentle stroking of his cock, he relaxed until she eased further into him. She began to rock her hips, her own face contorting with each thrust as the nub on the harness ground into her clit.

"Hold me down,” he managed. She obliged, falling forward to pin his wrists down under her palms. Her strength was startling for how small she was, and Del felt sufficiently trapped.

Now the toy was buried halfway in Del’s ass. He was filled, conquered, lights going off behind his eyes as her pumping eased the toy in and out of him at the perfect angle and speed. His cock hardened and quivered in her hand.

Del’s back arched as Megan fucked him to a frenzy, her lip curling with power. As he came, spurting onto the underside of her chin, he saw not just an overwhelming sense of ownership in her eyes, but a fierce love that would have taken out anything that tried to do this to him.

Afterwards, he was a shivering ball of nerve endings. Megan slipped out of the harness and curled around him backwards, becoming the big spoon. She laid her head on his knees and smiled as she reached up and touched his face.

“You,” she said. "I love you.“

anyone know of good generic (i.e. not fanfic smut) erotica blogs I could submit to?

The Interview

“Michi?” My intercom squawks, making me slam my desk in surprise; I must have been daydreaming. "Michi, your three o’clock is here to see you.“

Fuck. I don’t remember scheduling any appointments today. But there it is, staring at me from my Outlook calendar: 3:00-4:00 pm, internship interview, Trevor L. I squint one eye shut. Trevor is a very, very familiar name.

So is the handsome black man who peeks in the door. He gives me a big, sloppy grin. "Knock knock.”

“Oh my god.” I manage to hide the phrase in a giant, unladylike bite of warm tuna sandwich. "Trevor! Trevor, hi, come on in.“ I know I’m blushing like a tomato and my hands are shaking. I look exaggeratedly beneath piles of paperwork for a napkin, trying to catch sideways glimpses of him, to size him up.

He is clean-shaven and lean, a little leaner than the last time we met. The last time! I can hardly think straight. Trevor works for our vending machine company, and three months ago, I fucked him after hours against the snack machine. It was hot and I’ve masturbated to it almost every night. Now here he is, dressed to the nines, and my panties are uncomfortably wet.

I squirm and point to the chair across from me, with the safety of my monitor and the paperwork between us. "I’m sorry. I’m so rude. Have a seat! I’m Michi, and – ”

“I remember you,” he says in his soft, honey-like voice. I melt helplessly into my seat.

“Of c-course,” I manage, with minimal stuttering. I try to regain my businesswoman composure, tapping his file on the desk brusquely. But our eyes meet and I’m lost again. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were interested in an internship here.“

"Just trying to get my feet,” he drawls, his gaze never leaving my face. My blouse is one too many buttons undone, I realize, but he’s looking me nobly in the eyes. "Get out of the vending business.“ A flash of very white teeth and a big, flat tongue behind.

And I desperately want that tongue all over my body. "Well,” I say, trying to be casual as I stand and cross the room to close the blinds, “I think we can work something out.”

He half-rises as it dawns on him, but I make it back to straddle him before he can leave the chair. "I can’t stop thinking about you,“ I breathe in his ear, my chest heaving; I’ve lost all pretense of professionalism. I reach back and free my hair so that it cascades around his face, walling us in so we can only grope with our lips. His hands reach up and take my face and my fantasy is alive once more: his hands explore the nooks and crannies of my blouse, my pencil skirt. He finds the waist of my lacy thong and tugs it away.

I go after his well-ironed pants. As I try to wrangle the zipper, I toss my head back. "How the hell did you get such a perfect crease? Fuck I can’t use an iron.”

He laughs, almost a giggle, and kisses behind my ear, making it a thousand times harder to get him free. Finally, squirming, I unleash his ready cock, sprouting out of his pants like a welcoming totem. With a relieved sigh, I straddle him again and ease him inside.

This time, I expect his size, but he still fills my tiny cunt to satisfaction. I inhale like a swimmer emerging from the depths and he lets out his breath in an inverse echo. My knees dig into the arms of the chair as I raise and lower myself on him, once, twice, faster, dripping down the length I have not yet swelled to accommodate.

Trevor smacks my ass. Between the surprise and the pleasure, I squeeze and gasp and come on him. I can barely keep my eyes open and I know my hair is in his face, but then he cries out and lunges up, holding me as close as he can. We bind at the waist until our climaxes subside.

Panting, I sit up and clear my throat. "Well. I think you’ll be perfect for the position.“

His eyes are already alight with post-coitus contentment, but they sparkle with a genuine joy. "Really?”

I gingerly displace myself and return to my seat. My skirt gets straightened, my top rebuttoned. Then I lean palms-down across the desk. "We work well together, you know how this place functions – and besides, from what I’ve seen, you do a very thorough job.“ And I give him one of my most charming smiles.

He’s beaming from ear to ear, zipping up his pants even as he extends a hand to me. "Thank you so much, Michi,” he says, pumping my hand with as much enthusiasm as he pumped his cock into me. "I promise I won’t let you down.“

I grin, unable to contain it. "I’m counting on it.”

Whimsy

We sat down beside the river together, the Storyteller and I. I tucked my legs beneath my long skirts, splayed sideways in the juicy grass, my head propped in my palm as I watched him. The Storyteller took a flask from his patchwork jacket and a tiny stringed instrument from his pocket.

He smiled a silly crooked smile at me, took a sip from the flask before handing it to me, and held the instrument up to his ear. His grin widened as his fingers tickled a tune. I giggled at the sound; it was like the banter of fairies, or a field of daisies gossiping through their petals.

“Long ago, when the world was still being made,” the Storyteller said.

My head swam as if I’d drained his flask of its mead, though I hadn’t yet touched it. As if by another’s prompting, I lifted the flask to my lips and let it hover there, just touching my moist skin. My eyes were locked on the Storyteller.

“In those days, a beautiful angel maiden stood queen over the subjects of the world, who were not yet so divisive as to form clans and countries.” The Storyteller coaxed another riff out of his instrument, this one with a hint of malice running beneath. The flask bumped against my teeth and I gulped at the sweet, heavy liquid that hit my tongue. "But there was a shadow in the heart of the lord of the warriors. With each passing day his malice grew and twisted his features, until he was no more human than the serpent. He was the first demon.“

I could barely keep my eyes open, my chin bobbing towards my chest. The Storyteller’s face was an indecipherable blur.

"Then came the wars.”

I tumbled forward into his vision, my whole head filled with the frantic music of the tiny instrument. The black sky roared with columns and balls of fire, dodged by beings of light. A crescendo of wild drumbeats brought the image to a standstill, and as if from a distance I heard the Storyteller: “There was only one way to reconcile. A child must be born, produced of the light and the darkness, and given reign over the world. His struggle would be internal, eternal, but he would unravel the war.

"But the child must be made.”

I was lying on a grassy hill, facing the blue, cloudless sky. I raised my hands and saw that they were glowing from an internal illumination. Something rough and sinewy slid between my legs and I raised my head to see a scaly, demonic face gazing at me with a horrific mixture of adoration and loathing. A long, snake-like tongue slithered out of its mouth and lifted my luminous skirts with surprising strength.

I was bared, exposed, my head still swimming. I stared up at the sky. The creature’s tongue dove inside of me, somehow unbearably rough and heartbreakingly satisfying as it flicked in and out. I felt myself grow wetter; my hands moved to my nipples and I toyed with myself.

At last, the creature brought its legs up and forward and hovered over me as if waiting for a signal. I lifted my head again and met its eyes. I thought I would be consumed by the ancient fires there.

From far away came the sounds of four tiny strings, plucking out a melody that was as old as the world.

The demon plunged into me. I shrieked, the sound rising visibly from me like steam. I clenched the leathered buttocks in both hands, forcing him to work for every thrust, holding him in until my back arched and my lips parted and my breath escaped in rattles. Then I drained him of his semen, hotter than flame, coursing through my entire being until I knew: our child was conceived. The human race would be born.

Slowly, the vision faded. I was staring languorously at the Storyteller, who gazed back at me with intent but knowing eyes.

“And that, my love, is how we all came to be.”

First Class Ass

The seatbelt light dings softly and I tilt sideways into the aisle, lowering my book just enough to see all the way to the front of the plane. He’s there, his back to me, tugging the drink cart along as he flashes his pearly whites at the old ladies and nervous children. I smile to myself, imagining those teeth nibbling my shoulder.

A slow flush creeps up the back of his neck; he knows I’m thinking about him. I keep my smile and my hands to myself as he passes with the cart, addressing the passengers to my right and in the row across, but making me wait. Making me wonder.

But I don’t wonder. He will come. He will come, and then he will come. My smile is positively fangy as I stand and stalk off to the little bathroom. The lock makes a definitive click that echoes down the interior of the plane – a warning, a signal.

I sit on the plastic seat and cross my legs like a lady. I hold my breath for thirty seconds every minute, appreciating the thin atmosphere as my head swims.

An apprehensive rattle on the door. "Miss…?“ he asks very softly, my name lodging in his throat. I flick the latch to "Unoccupied” and the door opens.

“Get in here,” I say through my teeth, my vague Eastern European accent making my words silky. "Take off your pants.“

He can’t keep his eyes off my face, but he complies, untucking his pale blue button-up and tugging down his crisp pants. I size him up once more, to be sure I missed nothing. He sports a thin shock of blonde hair, nearly white, over a pair of weak blue eyes and a stubby nose. He’s adorable, in a very ordinary way. My gaze drops to his waist, affirming my assessment: he has a first class body, and no idea.

"Yes,” I purr, curling my finger up under his chin and stroking towards me, making sure my nails just catch on his stubbly skin. "Come to Teles.“

He shudders and it makes him sigh, at the perfect moment, releasing a bit of his inner essence. I suck it greedily into my own lungs and now I know exactly how to ensnare him. I give him a firm shove so he slams against the door. With one hand, I flip the lock to "Occupied.” With the other, I gather up his whole impressive package. I lift his cock so its tiny eye gazes at me and hold my breath again.

I lower myself down over the cock, lips first, and I draw out his soul. He doesn’t even scream as I take him, singing him an internal song as I lure his entire essence to mingle with mine. Now his dull eyes are blank, ready to be filled with my instruction.

I pull back from his cock, tossing my hair as if emerging from the water, and meet his gaze. I show my teeth. "Eat me, slave,“ I say, wrenching up my dress and pushing his head down between my legs. His tongue is as eager as a dog’s, praising my lower lips with its exuberant strokes. I smile down at his thinning hair, picking up tufts in my nails. "I will give you better hair,” I say. He licks faster, using his lips to suck now, gently drawing me towards orgasm.

Leaning down across his back, I grab his ass in both hands. It is firm, well-muscled, an athlete’s ass. "Oh, but you will give me many nights of pleasure with this,“ I say, enjoying the full-body tremble these words set off in him. My own flesh is alive, every nerve crawling towards his pleasuring mouth.

Before I gush gratefully under his tongue, I wonder if this is a craving I will regret.

Sweet Babysitter

Nessa pricked up. Wine and giggles wafted into the house from the entryway. She smiled and flicked the remote, making The Lion King waver and disappear.

“Nessie! Nessiiie.” It was Maryanna, the mother, slurring her giddy whisper. Nessa smiled and stood up, not bothering to adjust the strap of her silky cami, which had slipped off her left shoulder.

“Yanna.” She crossed the living room to the couple, embracing the brunette and resting her hand on Rob’s broad shoulder. "How was dinner?“

"We got a little tipsy,” Rob said, smiling at Nessa over his wife’s head. "And how were the kids?“

"Perfect angels. And even sleeping now. I promised you’d give them a goodnight kiss.” Nessa untangled herself from Maryanna’s embrace. Her cami now hung so low her nipple threatened to make an appearance.

“First things first,” Maryanna said, taking Nessa’s face in both hands. She screwed her face up into a very serious expression and managed, “You are a wonderful babysitter and I’m glad you’re still here.” Then she pulled Nessa in for a long French kiss. Nessa relaxed into Maryanna’s soft bosom and ran her hands down the older woman’s back, to her waist. Maryanna broke off the kiss and ran her tongue along her lips, smearing the last of her lipstick suggestively. Nessa’s hands roved up to Maryanna’s breasts, cupping them as she gazed at them hungrily.

“Okay, okay, if you promised a goodnight kiss, I’m not gonna be the one who turns you into a liar.” It was Rob who broke them up now, gently pushing between them. Both women wriggled up and he sighed in mock exasperation. "Seriously. Nessa, bedroom. Yanna, let’s go kiss the kids.“

"You’re right,” Maryanna said, curling her lip in an attractive pout. Nessa laughed, hiding it behind the back of her hand, and gave them both shy smiles as she slipped back into the hallway. She went into their bedroom and waited, perched on the edge of the bed.

She heard the soft sounds of covers being pulled up, foreheads being kissed, and tightly-held toys being confiscated, and she smiled. This was the job she lived for. To care for a family so deeply that after the young ones were away, the adults could play.

Maryanna came into the bedroom first, exaggerating every tip-toe step. With two swift strokes of her long arms, her dress was off and she bounded onto the bed like a husky puppy, wriggling up to Nessa. Nessa giggled as the older woman nosed at her neck. "Eee! Stoppit, Yanna, you’re giving me the heebies!“

They fell to tickling one another until all their clothes were in a heap at the end of the bed. The pair was just crawling under the covers when Rob arrived, shutting the door behind him. "Privacy! Geez, girls!”

“Oh, shut your lame face and get into my bed,” Maryanna said, scooting over so her bare ass was against Nessa’s and patting the remaining space. "We know what you want, so let us give it to you.“ She threw an exaggerated wink over her shoulder.

Rob rolled into the bed and the women swarmed him. Nessa slid her nubile body down his legs, rocking her crotch against his thigh, cuddling his feet to her. Maryanna, meanwhile, pulled her hair back and dove to work on her husband’s cock. After a few moments, Rob pushed them off. "All right. My turn.”

He made them lie side by side, face up, legs spread. Nessa found she was trembling. She reached out and took Maryanna’s hand, squeezing her excitement. "I love this part,“ she whispered, as Rob’s hands descended to both of them at once.

The Actress Next Door

“Really. Men. I’m so fucking sick of them.”

I watch as June wrenches the bouquet of roses out of her mailbox and crushes them under her Crocs. She throws up her hands, her tight midriff showing under her baggy grey sweatshirt. She looks up, catching me watching, and smiles. "Hey, Mercy!“

I hate when she addresses me by name, because I have no idea how to address her. "Hi, Miss Maples,” I mutter. Her porn name sounds awkward coming out of my mouth, but she’s never shared her real name. Too much risk in the business.

She laughs, tossing her silky ponytail over her shoulder. "For the love of God, will you just call me June? We’re all ladies here, we can handle first names.“ She strides over to me, leggy and inviting. "I made extra lemonade, and if you refuse it, I’ll consider you a bad neighbor.”

My shy smile nearly splits my face. I’ve only dreamed of being acknowledged by women as beautiful as June. "But it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood,“ I say, immediately regretting it and feeling like the ill-fitted nerd I am, "so won’t you be mine?”

June’s face flutters, and my stomach churns, but it doesn’t seem to faze her. "Of course,“ she says, and extends her hand. I slip mine into hers, my whole body tingling with giddiness. "Let’s go spike some lemonade and sunbathe. I’m feeling girly today.”

Inside her house, I feel entirely out of place. Everything is quality, even the drapes, and compared to my relative bachelor pad it’s like a palace. An even worse realization hits me when I remember I have nothing to sunbathe in.

“Psshhh. You’re basically my size.” She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me as I part my lips to protest. "You think I don’t know what you look like under those baggy clothes you wear? I’ve scoped out the competition.“ She winks, leaving me weak-kneed, and throws a sexy black-and-white bikini at me.

"You – watch me?” The bikini dangles from my hand like a foreign object.

She’s blushing, just enough to color her smooth cheeks, as she pulls off her sweatshirt to reveal a bright, flowery halter top underneath. It flatters her torso, her perky B cups. "Well. Now and then. When you leave the blinds up, almost like – like you mean me to see.“ She motions with manicured nails. "Shirt off.”

My turn to flush as I comply. "If we’re being honest…I do mean you to see. I’m sorry.“ Apologies bubble up like a dammed river as I pull the two-sizes-too-big shirt over my head, but June crosses the room in three strides and puts her fingers on my lips.

"Shut up. That’s not what I meant. I’m a porn star – I see naked women all the time.” She closes in; our bodies are nearly touching now. The shirt drops from my hand. "Just not any I’d care to keep around. Until you.“

"Me?” I feel like I haven’t had a drink of water in weeks.

“You.” And she kisses me. She tastes like strawberry chapstick and expensive perfume, and underneath all of that is a hint of ordinary girl, laundry and TV dinners and old books. I want to devour her. I compensate by kissing her back, my hands tracing her fine bones until I reach the back of her head. I clutch handfuls of her golden tresses, like I have in my dreams.

I have to break it off first, gasping for air. "June,“ I manage.

She licks her lips and purses them, trying to hide a smile. Her next move is to kick her Crocs off behind her and shove me heartily onto the couch. I sit down hard, crumpled into the cushions, and when her sweat pants are off she straddles me so her crotch is at my eye level.

"Let’s skip all that first date shit,” she says, planting kisses along my forehead like my grandmother’s tulips, all in a row. "Except the part where we giggle a lot. I want to cuddle and watch movies and not think about men except to laugh at them. Okay?“ As she says this, she wriggles forward until I can’t stand it any longer and plunge my hands into the bikini bottom. Her ass is as smooth and hard as I imagined.

"Yeah,” I say, “okay.” And I peel the bottoms forward and press my whole face to her pussy. She moans, and I don’t think she means to. I close my eyes. She smells perfect.

Ever so gently, I extend my tongue and caress her clit, just once. This time her moan is unmistakable. "God, but the men could learn a thing or two from you.“

"Satisfaction guaranteed,” I say, grinning. She touches the corner of my mouth and echoes the smile.

“Then get to work, before I ask for my money back,” June says, and I oblige, burying my face chin-deep in her delicious folds. She writhes against me, teaching me her most sensitive points by the way she moves her hips, a dance I will not soon forget.

The Union

Dark bodies stirred around the fire. The one chosen to be the Hand looked up with his golden eyes, haunting in a human face. He bared his teeth, his wolf instincts fully intact. "Brothers! Sisters! Gather.“

More shadowy shapes slunk in from the outskirts of the camp. They lined up, packed in a tight circle, all noses and ears pointed towards the Hand. The humanform raised his hands and the yips and snarls died away.

"We gather for a Union.” Murmurs, quickly hushed by the Hand’s dead stare. "Today we witness the binding of Kaden Raggedclaw and Navisha Bloodeyes. Call your brethren.“

"Raggedclaw,” came the ragged cry, then stronger: “Raggedclaw! Bloodeyes!”

“Come forth!” the Hand roared.

Two wolves were thrust into the ring of firelight. One sported pitch black fur and jagged scars over both eyes; she flickered in and out of humanform to reveal raven black hair and fragile, pale skin. The other was a pale grey, like a springtime sky, with black-tipped paws and a shock of bright red hair when he trembled into humanform.

Kaden and Navisha stared at one another across the flames. Navisha’s tongue flicked out and swiped her muzzle. Kaden dipped his head and began to walk around the ring towards her. She watched him, unmoving.

“To complete this Union,” the Hand said, “you must be joined, in all forms, to all forms.” The gathered went silent. This was the moment.

Navisha waited until Kaden was close, and then she dropped to a bow, her hindquarters in the air. She swept her tail aside and let out a long, low howl. Kaden darted forward, rearing up, and settled over her, his paws hugging her against him. He poised over her entrance. His cock dripped with excitement. Navisha whined, and he thrust forward.

They were suddenly a blur of fur and skin and paws and hands and tails and eyes. The firelight added to their flickering outlines as they transitioned from wolf to humanform and back again, sometimes alternating, sometimes merging into a single entity. Tongues lashed out, seeking points of pleasure. Kaden’s hands groped at Navisha’s dribbling pussy, clawing at her clit even when his fingers lengthened into claws. She was bloody and raw but she pumped against him, ass to crotch, no sign of her humanity.

Now Navisha was a wolf, thrashing as humanform Kaden held her down into the dirt; now Kaden was a wolf, howling his pleasure as he clung to the naked human woman that was Navisha.

With one last, mighty roar, Kaden came hard, knotting Navisha. The hot semen rushing into her trapped her between forms, left her with ears and a tail and little else. Her bare breasts swung beneath her as, panting, she fell back against her mate. Kaden was in full wolf form, and he licked her gently between the shoulderblades.

The Hand lifted his arms. "To our newest Union!“

"To the Union!” the werewolves howled, while the newlyweds lay tied together, their sweat steaming in the summer air.

Gangster Love

Isabella raised her head from the dripping cock and wiped her chin on her bare shoulder. She gave the man a toothy smile and crawled across the floor to her next assignment.

At one end of the room stood a clump of idle girls – not the favorites, Isabella thought smugly. The favorites were on their knees, crawling between bosses, slurping and moaning and, sometimes, embracing one another at the center of the chamber. Every breast was bare, and most of the men lounged on cushions with their pants unzipped.

She reached Alanzo and curled up between his knees. He ruffled her hair. "Izzy, baby. I feel like we haven’t talked in months.“

Leaning her head back so she was resting it on his stomach, she fluttered her eyelashes at him. "We haven’t. You’ve been busy with Vera.” She narrowed her eyes just enough to show exactly how she felt about her fellow entertainer.

“Awww, Izzy.” Alanzo cupped her chin and tilted her head so she was a sleek, dark line from chin to sternum. "You know I’ll always come back to you.“

"Yes,” Isabella purred, rolling over so her face rested in his crotch. "Because I’m the best.“

Her eyes still trained on him, she went down on his cock, flattening her tongue to take him all the way in. A sigh shivered out of him and he slumped, melancholy but sated. Isabella bobbed on his cock, working her hands as well.

Alanzo’s head lolled and he gazed at Isabella through half-closed eyes. "Hey. Listen.” His voice was almost too quiet for her to hear, so she released him with a pop of her lips and swung to her feet, straddling him. She buried her knees deep in the couch cushions on either side of him and sank down on his waiting cock. Spasms of pleasure pulled them closer together; she rested her head against the side of his, eyes closed, waiting.

“There’s a big delivery going down on Sunday. Church time. Enrico, Teddy, a few of the others – they’re dragging something out of the boats and distributing it while the holies are occupied.” Alanzo’s lips barely moved against her ear, the soft, moist skin making her cartilage tingle.

“Got it,” she said back, just as discreetly. She folded her torso and then leaned into him. He grabbed her ass and pressed her down as far as she would go. Isabella curled her tongue into the corner of her mouth and bumped her forehead against Alanzo’s.

“Well aren’t you just the strong, healthy stud today.”

“I do what I can,” the gangster said, and gritting his teeth he began to bounce his lap. Isabella gripped him with startling strength and threw her head back, her large breasts flying up to smack her under the chin, her moan coming out in staccato snaps. Her fingers dug into Alanzo’s shoulders and her mouth dropped open as she climaxed; Alanzo showed her a set of yellow teeth and then leaned forward to nibble her nipples. He left bright red marks on her areolas.

Isabella dropped her hand to her clit and flicked it with two fingers while she continued to pump. She lowered her back into the motion, riding with all of her energy, until Alanzo finally huffed and surged into her, a hot flood. Isabella caught up her hair and settled on his lap, pulling her feet out from behind her so she was almost squatting over him.

“There you go, Mister Alanzo, sir,” she said with a teasing grin.

He wheezed in her ear, his scruff tickling her cheek. “Come back sooner next time,” he said, smacking her cheek with a kiss and then echoing the sound on her ass.

Little Darlin’

“Ho, boy!”

John looked up from his campfire at the horse he had heard coming an hour back. He touched the brim of his hat to the figure silhouetted against the setting sun. "Evenin’, partner.“

The rider giggled and swung down off the fidgety animal’s back. John tried to keep his eyes from widening but was only partly successful – the riding skirts were too shocking. "Ahh, my ‘pologies. Evenin’, ma’am.”

“Ain’t no ladies from where I’m standin’.” The girl flipped her hat off, loosening a mane of curly brown hair and revealing freckled cheeks and a tilted smile. She thrust her hand in John’s face. "You can call me Little Darlin’.“

"Can I now?” A suspicious bubble boiled up in John’s gut, and he stared at the hand without taking it. The looming emptiness of the desert around him seemed to yawn and shift. "Or is there gold to be paid if’n I do?“

The girl narrowed her eyes for just a second, then collapsed into a cross-legged sitting position next to the fire. "Nah, not out ‘ere. Out ‘ere we’re all just lonely and lookin’ for some company.”

“I see.” John kept his voice level. "And what sort o’ company you be huntin’ tonight?“

"Yours,” the girl said. She shrugged, digging her teeth into something she’d fished out of the leather bag on her belt. "Probably.“

John sized her up for another long moment. Despite her haphazard appearance, she was at ease and in surprisingly good condition for as long as her stallion’s hooves indicated they’d been traveling. He guessed she had a small firearm tucked away somewhere, but he didn’t imagine she would use it. He straightened up. "Arright. Shoot. What’s your game?”

“I like cock,” she said, wrapping her whole tongue around the word with a toothy smile, “and ain’t no spit-polish piece o’ wood gonna satisfy my hungry pussy.”

John’s body responded for him. He leaned towards her, and this time he was the one to offer his hand. "I think I can help with that.“

She tugged him with such strength that he fell forward onto her, and they both landed in the sand. Her hands were clutching at his hair, sliding into his shirt to grope his back, then slipping into his pants and finding where he was waiting for her. John kissed the place he loved to kiss on women: where the jaw met the neck, the knot of strength and determination. She moaned and arched up against him.

He sat up to paw at her skirts until he found where they came loose from one another. Separating them with deft fingers, he found her, too, waiting eagerly. Already she was thrusting, her torso writhing and her legs scrabbling for traction in the sand. John ducked beneath the skirts and put his mouth against her, breathing in sweat and horse and desire. He lapped at her until she wailed like a coyote, head thrown back towards the moon.

He found the gun, in the top of her boot, and gently slipped it free. He felt her tense, then relax, then laugh, "Well, hungry is as hungry does,” and came against his cheek. His face dripping, John flipped her skirts up against her chest and unzipped his pants. He wiped his cheek on his shoulder, smiling down.

“Come along, little darlin’.”