The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions (3 page)

I obeyed. Ronan leaned back in his chair and watched.

I shook my thong off my right foot.

Next I slipped Zippy off my shoulders and allowed her to slip down to the floor.

“Fucking hell, you look gorgeous!” exclaimed Ronan.

That was a little flattering, but then thankfully, sex does blur one’s vision.

Leaning forwards I pointed my arms to the floor, my bra slid down and landed on my crumpled dress.

I almost kicked off my heels but decided to leave them on. This was a hotel, I didn’t cherish the bedcover like I cherished my own. So I stepped over to the bed and climbed on board. As I
rolled over onto my back and spread my legs like a good whore would, Ronan stood up and slowly undressed. His eyes locked onto my slit. I reached down and parted my lips a little to give him a
glimpse of glistening pink I know men love. When I finally saw it, his cock was of typical length but it pointed higher than most and looked very solid. Despite his erection pulling them up, his
balls still looked big. I momentarily thought about asking him to straddle my face and lower them into my mouth. How hard would he let me suck them?

In a flash his mouth was heading for my pussy.

“No fingers,” I commanded as he nuzzled his head between my legs. He started slow and gentle in little circular motions around my clit. Only when I was even more aroused and my pussy
was yearning to be mistreated did he start to firmly lick with the rough part of his tongue. Suddenly he started to alternate between delicately nibbling my labia and lapping at my juicy cunt. I
hoisted my legs, took hold of my ankles and pulled them up towards my shoulders. His tongue responded to the invitation and pushed in as deep as a tongue can go. His nose ground into just the right
spot.

It was now time to utter those two words every man loves to hear from a woman’s mouth.

“Fuck me,” I groaned.

He raised his head and stared at where his tongue had just been probing. I kept my ankles tight in my hands. I felt exposed, in my imagination he was looking all the way up my cunt.

As he climbed on top of me, I smelled that aftershave again. Then his cock pushed me open and drove in. It was just as hard and firm as it had looked. Ronan fucked me and he fucked me and he
fucked me.

Once again I played the whore, or was it the real me? “Fuck me harder,” I moaned loud enough to risk being heard in the next room. The thought of people listening to our humping
added extra spice to the act. Straining to lift my head I watched Ronan’s cock thrusting into me. He started to withdraw further. That is a sight I have always loved. His cock was driving
into me; his shaft was dripping wet with my juices. I yearned to let go of my ankles so I could rub my bud, but I was a whore, I had to resist such urges.

“Slam me,” I said, desperate for some extra stimulation.

He looked confused.

“Bang into me. Bang hard against my pussy.”

He got the message. The slapping of his balls against my arse was an unexpected bonus. Ronan was struggling to support himself. Eventually he solved the problem by grabbing hold of my shoulders.
The weight of his body pushed my body into the mattress. He was getting rough. He was nailing me good and proper. I had no option but to drop my head back down and let my other senses take over. I
closed my eyes and enjoyed every shove. I even enjoyed the pain of his nails digging into my shoulders.

The tension built and then the floodgates of orgasm opened.

“Fucking gorgeous,” I shouted as the waves ripped through my lower body.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Ronan groaned as he spurted his come deep inside me.

I could hold on to my ankles no longer so I let my legs drop down onto the bed with a thud.

“Shit, I was planning to come over your face,” he laughed breathlessly.

“That would have been extra,” I joked.

As I left the room I sensed Ronan expected me to give him back the money. Of course, I didn’t, that would have spoilt the memory. If you are going to live out a fantasy, do it as close to
the real thing as you dare.

Brian, Stittsville

I’m a mid-twenties, single male with a healthy libido and a vigorous sex life. Until a few weeks ago, I exclusively fucked only young nubile women. Then an unexpected
encounter changed my sexual preferences.

I was travelling on the TGV, the high-speed train, from Paris to Nice. After six months of intense work launching new internet software, I had a week’s vacation and I intended to spend it
inspecting the topless girls on the Riviera beaches. I looked forward to a week of hot sex.

The fragrance first alerted me to the woman. She checked the vacant seat opposite me then placed her shoulder bag on the table and tried to lift her heavy suitcase up to the luggage rack. At
full stretch on her toes, she struggled with the case.

“Permit me,” I murmured. Moving into the aisle behind the woman, I reached over her and pushed the suitcase onto the rack. Stretching up to reach the rack showed off her very
provocative bottom and in the restricted space of the aisle I took the opportunity to rub myself firmly against it, feeling its ripe fullness through her skirt. The woman’s reaction to my
uninvited touch could have been very hostile, but, as she slipped into her seat, she gave me a quizzical smile.

“Thank you, Monsieur, you are too kind,” she murmured.

The well-coiffed hair, impeccable make-up and manicured hands all signified an elegant woman. The scooped neckline of her top showed off generous breasts. I guessed her to be fortyish.

She took out a magazine.

“Madame travels to Nice?” I questioned innocently.

“No, Monsieur, to Lyons. I have been in Paris on business. And Monsieur?” she asked.

“I have a week’s vacation in Nice.”

“Alone?” she queried. When I nodded she smiled knowingly. “No doubt Monsieur hopes for some sexual encounters.”

I was disconcerted by the directness of her observation, but replied truthfully. “Yes, Madame.”

She opened her magazine and I began to read a technical report. I had trouble concentrating. The woman’s perfume was seductive and I mused about her tempting rear. I glanced across at her.
She was studying me, almost as if coming to some decision. Then she gave me a playful smile.

I felt her leg brush against mine then, very discreetly, her foot was placed on my seat, nestling between my thighs. Madame had slipped off her shoe and, beneath the small table separating us,
had stealthily stretched her leg across the space between our seats. I looked at the woman. Her lips parted in unmistakable invitation and gently she nudged my crotch with her stockinged foot.

Our neighbouring passengers seemed to be dozing, so unobtrusively I stroked the sensuous arch of her instep and fondled the finely structured ankle. Beneath the table I stroked along her leg as
far as I could reach, squeezing the well-toned calf. Furtively, through the sheer stockings, I massaged her manicured toes, separating and stretching them. Very deliberately, I pressed her foot
against my crotch. With a knowing smile, Madame began to rub me. As her stimulation increased I pressed my burgeoning erection harder against her foot.

“Perhaps Monsieur would permit me to buy him coffee?”

I snapped back to reality, suddenly aware of my very obvious arousal. “I would be delighted, Madame,” I replied.

She carefully withdrew her leg and slipped on her shoe. Sliding from her seat the woman proceeded towards the restaurant car. I followed.

Madame stopped outside the vacant
toilette
of the second car. She murmured, “I think this will do,” then opened the door and stepped inside, pulling me after her. The
toilette
contained a toilet and a hand basin set in a vanity with a small mirror on the wall. The space was confined and we were squeezed together. Locking the door, Madame smiled at my
bewildered expression.

“You appeared to appreciate my derrière, Monsieur, your foreplay with my foot was delightful and my foot massage has hardened your penis. So, Monsieur, are you willing to have sex
with me . . . here, now? I am, of course, much older than you,
une vieille femme,
so if you find me too mature for your taste I shall understand.”

I was stunned, disbelieving. I hesitated, but the woman boldly unbuckled my belt, unzipped me, slid her hand into my briefs and extracted my cock. Abandoning all caution I seized her ass,
squeezing and kneading the soft flesh through her skirt.

“You are alluring, Madame, and I’d be delighted to fuck you. I hope I can perform to your satisfaction,” I murmured.

She fondled my cock and smiled. “With such a fine penis, Monsieur, so big and strong, I’m sure you can. Think of me as the hors d’oeuvre for your week in Nice.”

I pushed her against the door to grind my throbbing erection into the curve of her belly. Then, seizing her heavy breasts, I crushed the sumptuous mounds, feeling the pliant flesh through her
top and bra. Madame played with my tumescent penis, caressing the shaft, fondling the glans with skilful fingers. In a frenzy, I pushed my hand up her skirt to probe between her legs. Madame
gasped, pressing herself onto my fingers and I could feel the heat and dampness through her panties.

As we tore off our clothes, the fondling and groping in the confined space made us supremely horny. Stripped to her garter belt, stockings and high heels, the generous curves of Madame’s
voluptuous figure were fully displayed. She was sensuous and my hands roamed over her luscious body. I rolled her hardened nipples and then greedily sucked on them. Madame whimpered and responded
by fondling my balls then began to pump my cock. When I probed between her legs and burrowed into her slit, she was already wet.

I turned her, spread her buttocks and jammed the hard ridge of my erection between them, grinding it into her rear. Holding her tight against my cock, I cupped her mons, stroking the luxuriant
pubic hair, then probed lower to massage the hidden bud of her clitoris. Madame cried out and as her hips jerked under my touch the lush bottom rubbed my penis. The sensation was wonderful and I
realized I was close to coming. But first I had to make Madame climax.

I sat her on the vanity and she had to hold on to the fixtures to steady herself. I put one of her legs over my shoulder and stretched the other along the vanity to spread her, so that by
sitting on the toilet seat, I could study her private parts.

“Monsieur, you permit me no modesty,” she protested.

I inspected the intricate folds and hollows and crevices, the distended inner lips and the wet, inviting orifice. The sexual aromas of the woman were intoxicating.

“None, Madame,” I replied. “A woman as succulent as you has no need for modesty.”

I caressed the soft thighs and above the tops of her stockings traced intricate patterns on the sensitive skin. Madame whimpered. I brushed my face into her thick pubic hair, breathing in the
smell of her sexual heat, then opened her wide. Slowly I licked the shaved labia then sucked on the slippery inner lips, savouring the moist, pink flesh. When my tongue rimmed her orifice then
pushed into her hole to lap the juices, Madame moaned. I drew back the hood to expose her clitoris. The little floret clamoured for attention and I wet the tip of my finger in her orifice before
playing with the swollen bud, teasing it, rubbing it then squeezing it hard. Madame cried out and tried to close her legs. But I held them open and leaned forward to lick the hard little nub,
caressing it with my tongue then sucking on it. The juices flooded out of her.

The flower between Madame’s legs was now in extravagant bloom and its aromas filled the room. I began a rhythm, sucking at her orifice with my mouth, eating her inner lips, then using my
tongue to play with her clitoris. She moaned in time to my stimulation and I increased the tempo and the intensity.

Her pelvis was rocking to my rhythm when slowly I inserted a finger into her vagina. Madame gasped and tried to seize my hand. But she could not retain her balance. I waited until she was steady
again then eased two fingers into her. Madame cried out as I stretched the vagina, stirring parts deep inside her, exploring the moist walls of her passage to find her sensitive spot. When Madame
gave a piercing shriek and her pelvis jerked off the vanity, I knew I had found it. I began to thrust my fingers rhythmically up her cunt. I alternated deep thrusts with stimulation of her G-spot
and matched them to the tempo of my tongue on her clitoris. Madame’s cries grew louder as her pelvis thrashed wildly, her bottom thumping on the vanity. Her climax was near.

“Put it in, Monsieur, put it in,” Madame shrieked.

I stood up, raised her legs into the air, spread them as wide as possible and inserted my rock-hard penis into Madame’s opening. She groaned as I pushed deep into her.

“No, no. I want to ride you,” she breathed hoarsely.

She forced me down on to the toilet seat with my back against the wall. Then slipping down from the vanity she turned, presenting her luscious rear to me, straddled my thighs and positioned
herself over my cock. Madame pushed its head into the mouth of her vagina and the juices flooding from her drenched us. I thought I would explode.

In one smooth downward motion, Madame impaled herself on my throbbing erection. Her cry filled the room. “Monsieur, you stretch me to the limit.”

For several seconds she writhed on my cock then leaned forward to grip the edge of the vanity for support. I felt her thighs tighten as she lifted herself. Sliding up and down my rigid shaft,
Madame began to ride. I seized her trim waist to lift her high on the up stroke then plunge her down hard to the root of my shaft so the full length of my swollen cock was thrust up her vagina.

After several slow, smooth strokes the tempo increased and Madame’s ride grew wilder and more intense. Her bottom jiggled wildly to the rhythm and slapped against me as I drove her down
into my lap. In the mirror I could see her breasts bouncing frantically. Her cries became a cacophony that filled the small space as the ride became frenzied. Up and down, faster and faster she
rode until, in a final spasm, Madame climaxed. Her orgasm surged through her, consuming her in a paroxysm of wild convulsions.