Ladies Who Love: An Erotica Collection. Elizabeth Coldwell
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fingers through my newly cropped hair. I sucked harder; she moaned and squirmed, pulling me down onto her as she fell further into the gold satin of the play pit. Adam was above me kissing her mouth. Now she had one hand in his hair too. I slid one of my hands along the length of her thigh, the flesh firm, soft and warm. She slid her legs open and my hand slipped over and along her inner thigh. My fingers moved up, caressing the smooth warm skin, the tight flesh, as she squirmed approvingly. Her inner thighs, just beneath her sex, were moist, a fact that made me extremely happy. The thin line of hair that trailed down the V of her sex did little to shield her damply swollen labia. I stroked the line, petting the sweet puss, and then trailed a long finger over her wet nether lips before sinking it into the depths of her hot, sticky wetness. She bucked, trying to press her sex further onto my stiff finger. I slid a second finger in. As she pressed, trying to pull them deeper, I sucked the other nipple, nipped it with my teeth, the coke causing my lips to tingle and feel slightly swollen. Adam was still kissing her, but his hand had found its way down the back of my pants. He was gripping and squeezing the cheeks of my ass and sliding a couple of rough and gentle fingers down the crevice to tuck them under my ass and tease the sensitive skin between my legs. I was a little surprised, but it felt good so I let him.
‘Take them off,’ he said against my hair and then he stood up and began removing his jacket and then his shirt.
I sat up, a little dazed, and did as he asked. My pants made a dark puddle on the floor that pooled into Adam’s. He stood over us, naked now, his engorged sex heavy and thick, the dark hood straining upward. I massaged the dampness that saturated my panties, stroking my labia and teasing my clit, before drawing them off and kicking them into the puddle.
Lira sat up and began on the buttons of my blouse. She leaned in and sucked at my lower lip, nipped at it and then slid her tongue in deep and slow. I sucked on her tongue whenever she slid it in, while my fingers, imitating her tongue, slid against her sex, slipping between the moist lips. I could feel her smile in the beginning, but as her thrusts became more insistent she made little mewling noises and tugged at my sleeves. Then she was on her back and Adam was pushing the skirt of her dress up around her hips, revealing the thin arrow of hair and swollen vulva that I had been teasing with my fingers. Her legs parted and the layers of plump pink lips fell open. Adam sprinkled bits of white dust over them. He lowered his head to her breasts and left the sprinkled confection for me. I lapped it up and slid my tongue, long and slow, along the seam before finding her jutting little clit to lick and suck and tug. She squirmed and pressed her sex into my face. I held onto her hips and continued to nip and lick as she bucked.
Lira’s hands were pulling at my hair and Adam was stroking my bare back, his fingers running along the knobs of my spine and finally moving down to cup my ass as I slid up the length of Lira’s body, her chest to mine. Pushing my thigh between her legs, I pressed it hard against the sensitive tissue of her sex while I slid my sex against the firm flesh of her thigh. My breasts were tight, the nipples screaming hard as they tried to pierce her skin. She squirmed beneath me and I pressed my thigh deeper, pressed my breasts into hers. Her softness pooled around me. She grabbed at my ass, my back, her nails scraping, trying to gain a grip. I plunged my tongue into her mouth. She sucked it eagerly, pulling me into her. I pressed myself tighter, her wetness and mine coming and spilling as I rode her until she cried out and I saw trembling streaks of white.
I sank into her body, relishing the soft supple flesh, but after a minute or so she slipped out from under me.
‘I’m going to do another line,’ she said as she stood up. ‘Adam wants to fuck you, OK.’
He was behind me stroking my ass again. How long had he been there? He pressed his condom-covered cock into the crevice of my ass, the knob against my anus.
‘No,’ I groaned and, scrambling up, I made an uncertain effort to move out from under him. I was nearly up on all fours as his hands gripped my hips.
‘No?’ he asked as if to confirm my choice. ‘Maybe later.’ And then he pressed the hood of his penis to the slick opening of my sex and pushed home, the whole of him rasping and pressing against the walls of my canal as he gripped my hips with his massive hands, his thumbs pressing into the flesh of my ass.
‘So tight and hot,’ he breathed. ‘You haven’t had a man in a while.’ He pressed forward, his penis ramming its head against the depths of my womb. The feeling of fullness and the rhythmic slide of his flesh ignited a flash of need in my already trembling sex. Maybe it was the coke or maybe it was that my pussy was still pulsing from my last orgasm, but it felt good. I pushed back against him, wanting to feel the rasp and press of him as the hard heat stroked my walls. He pulled back and pressed himself into me slow and long, letting me feel the stroke and rub of him as he set a faster pace that had me writhing and pressing my pussy into his groin. I wanted to feel more of him. I wanted to feel the slap and heat of his sack, the agonising pleasure of the scratch and scrape of his groin hair against my hungry labia. His hands were everywhere, stroking the length of my back, the crevice of my ass, pulling at the flesh and extremely sensitive skin of my hips and ass. He groaned, the sound punctuating the wet slapping rhythm. A vibration washed over me and a shudder rushed down the length of my body. He almost lost his grip, but he reclaimed a fleshy stronghold and the pace increased. His penis swelled and tightened, filling every inch of me with firm hot flesh. He slid a sly finger beneath me to press and stroke my swollen clit.
It was too much, the way he filled me, the rasp and pull of his cock along the walls of my sex, the slap of his sack against my tingling vulva, and the wide finger that pressed and pushed my screaming clitoris. My body tightened around his, my pussy squeezing him, sucking at him. He grunted and increased the pace, his hands gripping my hips, trying to steady my body for his assault. He was pounding into me and I was falling forward, my arms trembling, no longer capable of supporting me. I was a mass of tingling nerves. He grunted again, jerked and pulled me back, holding me to him, my rear to his groin. I could feel the rush as he came and came, his body stiff as his penis throbbed and surged forward. My sex vibrated around his, sending an electric wave through my body. I couldn’t move, my arms and face and breasts splayed over a large segment of the play pit. And then he was falling forward, the lower half of my body collapsing beneath his.
I lay there, a mass of tingling nerves, insensate, for I don’t know how long. After a while, Adam slapped my bottom lightly and said, ‘I like fucking you.’ With that, he got up and padded out of the room.
I nodded, but I couldn’t talk just then.
* * *
Lira sat across from me, her legs curled under her. She was sipping a Diet Pepsi from a can. Her dress was in its proper place. The straps were even resting on her shoulders where they were meant to be. She had been watching us. There was a bit of white powder on the end of her nose.
‘What’s your name? I know you said, but I’ve forgotten.’ She stretched her legs and feet out over the large square table that filled the open space in the middle of the pit.
‘Ada,’ I said sitting up and looking around trying to locate my clothes. They were wadded in the pile of clothing near the opening of the pit. We had apparently fucked our way to its centre. I tried scooting back down the cushions towards the clothing, but my bottom was wet and sticky and I didn’t want to smear my juices all over the upholstery so I stood up, feeling quite self-conscious about my nudity when Lira sat across from me clothed.
Adam appeared wearing a dark-red cotton robe. He handed me its twin. I took it gratefully. It was smooth, brushed cotton, and large enough for me to tuck my feet under it when I sat down.
‘Hungry?’ he asked. I looked to Lira. ‘Lira never eats. Chorizo and eggs?’
‘I could eat,’ I admitted.
‘Juice or coffee?’
‘Both.’ He smiled, nodded, and headed into the kitchen.
A blue Miles was floating about the room, the sounds melancholy and strangely cleansing. Lira sipped her Pepsi.
‘Why me?’ I asked.
‘I liked the way you looked at me,’ she said without forethought.