The Mammoth Book of International Erotica

“Now like this.” Her two hands took my one and slapped it up against the soft saturated lips of her sex. “Do it hard,” she said. “I’ll keep blowing.”

It made splashy sounds. I bit into her left buttock, forgetting how sore it had to be, and kept slapping up at her until she groaned and toppled forwards onto her hands and knees.

She rolled onto her back, looked at me from under hooded lids, and said, “I blew three times. Now it’s your turn.”

“I can wait a while.”

“No – I’m on the boil. Keep me boiling. I’m hot for you, Paul. Hot, hot, hot.”

I stood and tossed my jacket aside.

“No time for that,” she said. “Get it out and get it in me. Is it big? Is it a nice big one?”

How do you answer that? I didn’t try. I didn’t have to. She was up on her feet, the dishes pushed aside, and bent over the table, legs spread. That was something I knew how to respond to. Her squishy-wet pussy was poking back at me between her thighs. Its lips were spread, stuck by their own juice. I unzipped, pulled myself out, and entered her.

I didn’t have to do much more. She went crazy from her hips down, rotating, bucking, flicking her bum from side to side, jerking back at me as if it was a battle. I just held on, pressing against her hard enough not to be twisted out.

I’m not usually quick, but I was then. My cock was like a water pistol with a blocked muzzle. Her gyrations pumped the trigger until the blockage had to burst, and then I gushed and gushed until my come was squirting back at me between her sex’s lips and my shaft.

I took a step back, plopping out. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s always quick the first time, isn’t it? With someone new? Have some more wine. I’ll be right back.”

I made myself decent and sprawled in her recliner armchair. When she came back the tightly curled hairs of her pubes were glistening but the rest of her was dry. I assumed she’d used a douche or something.

She asked me, “How do you feel about oral sex?”

“I’m for it. Did you want me to… While I recover my strength?”

“No. Sit up.”

She undressed me. All I had to do was lift up at the right times. It was sexy, being taken care of by a naked woman. My cock thickened along my thigh, but it didn’t lift. It was too soon after a really spectacular orgasm.

She knelt, took me in a cool palm, and addressed the head of my cock. “We’ll soon have you up again,” she told it.

“Give it a few more minutes,” I said.

Cyn glared at me. “When I say you’ll have an erection,” she spat, “you’ll have an erection. I’ll be gentle this time.”

It sounded like a threat.

Cyn squatted, naked, between my bare feet. The light was behind her. Her delta was black shadow. I had a silhouette to look at – a long shallow curve under one thigh, an outline like the cleft blunt end of an egg, bulging down, and then the swoop of another long curve. The cleft wasn’t regular. One side had a slightly out-turned lip. There was a spiked fuzziness on the other side of the egg-shape, as if water had matted her pubic hair.

I’d been inside that fleshy egg. My cock had split it, and beyond, deep beyond, past the hot mushiness into the throttling slick channel.

The thought brought a pulse.

Cyn lifted the base of the recliner, tilting me back and lifting my feet to the level of her breasts. She took hold of my right foot and her left breast. Her nipple dragged up over the sole of my foot, from the hardness of my heel to beneath where my toes curled over. It’s sensitive in there, at the bases of your toes. I could feel the tantalizing spike there as well as with my fingertips. She folded my toes down with her palm, gripping her nipple with my toes, and writhed, prodding rigid flesh between my big toe and the next one.

“You’re growing,” she said. She was right. My cock was thickening and lifting.

Cyn plucked her nipple from my toes. Her head bent, mouth wide. She engulfed three toes, wet and hot. Her tongue squirmed over, and between, and under. She put her nipple back and flickered it from side to side, frotting its tip on my soaking toes.

My cock lifted higher.

“Keep perfectly still!” Cyn ordered.

She stood and bridged me, her arms straight and her hands on the chair’s arms. My fingers wanted me to reach out to her dangling breasts but she’d said I had to keep still. I didn’t want to spoil whatever she had planned.

My cock was straight up by then, not fully erect, but close.

Her arms bent, lowering her face towards my cock. Cyn’s mouth stretched. She paused, my naked glans an inch from her gaping lips, pointed directly into her mouth.

She swooped. My cock passed between her lips, past her teeth, over her tongue, all without touching, and butted the back of her throat. With her mouth still open too wide to make contact, she made a deep gargling sound, and pushed.

Little bubbles from her throat burst against the glossy-tight skin of my glans. There was vibration, vibration so intimate that it seemed my cock’s head had to be pressed against her larynx.

She nodded, once, twice, three times, and then withdrew slowly, closing her mouth on me as she dragged it off my stem. By the time my cock flipped out from between her lips it was hard enough to burst.

Cyn scrambled up the chair. Brief slithers of fevered skin electrified me as she climbed over me. Her knees bracketed my waist. She reached down between us, took my cock in one hand and her pussy in her other, and slammed her hips down.

I froze, letting her impale herself. She looked down at me, wild, almost hating. “Don’t move! Don’t you dare move! I’m going to have a big one. I can feel it building. Keep still!”

Her hips juddered. She glared into my eyes. Her lips twisted. Her face contorted. Her sex was slapping at me, mashing down. She wasn’t focused on the feel of my cock inside her, just on rubbing her clit’s head against my pubic bone. She wasn’t making love to me. She was using me to masturbate with.

There was froth on her lips. Her eyes were insane. She reared up, made two tiny fists, and punched down. I flinched, but she didn’t hit me. She pounded the chair’s back to either side of my head.

“Drag me down harder. Pull down on my shoulders!”

I got a grip and pressed down through her entire body, to where we were united. She bore down with all of her might, trying to squirm her way through me, not riding my cock, just frictioning her squishy pubes and stiff clit, grinding and grinding.

Cyn screamed and toppled sideways, over the chair’s arm, to plop to the floor, sprawling, limp, lifeless.

I hadn’t come. It’d been an incredible experience. I’d never known a woman so totally consumed by her passion, but I hadn’t come. She looked to be absolutely sated, but I hadn’t come and my cock was nagging at me. I gave myself a stroke.

Cyn sat up. “Don’t you dare! That’s mine.”

“I thought…”

“I told you I was multi-orgasmic. Be patient, damn you!”

She crawled around in front of the chair again, put both hands flat on the foot-piece, and pushed it down. I was lifted up. She leaned over my thighs, dragging the points of her nipples over their hairiness and took me into her mouth again. Her two hands lifted the edge, pulling me back, drawing me almost out of her mouth and then pushed down, driving me back into the steamy soft cavern. Up and down. In and out. I just lay there, letting her rock me towards…

My cock’s head exploded inside her mouth. She sucked and sucked until I was dry.

“I didn’t spill a single drop,” she said.

“No – you didn’t.”

“I never will. If I do, you must punish me.”

That was the first time she’d mentioned my punishing her. I didn’t take much notice. It was just a figure of speech, wasn’t it?

It was down before she let me rest. That was okay. It was Saturday morning. I could sleep in.