ANOTHER WOMAN

 

Valerie Roberts tested a single grain of basmati rice between two fingers to ensure it had softened sufficiently.  It had.  Smiling, she lifted the cover of the saucepan and checked the chicken korma curry simmering gently on the adjacent hob, then pulled her apron off before turning both knobs on the electric cooker off, leaving the latent heat to finish cooking the meal.

Suddenly, without warning, she was grabbed from behind and held against a hard body.

“Don’t scream,” a man’s voice whispered threateningly in her ear as his hands came up and grasped her breasts through her denim dress.

“My husband is coming home any minute now,” she warned, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

“I will fuck you before he gets here.”

“Please, there is money in the house and my jewellery.  Just take those and go!”

“I don’t want money or jewellery, I want pussy.”

He spun her around in his arms and she screamed as she came face-to-face with a man wearing a black ski-mask….

 

 

 

DOUBLE THE TROUBLE

 

Alyson had almost done a comprehensive sweep of the room when her eyes encountered those of a bespectacled young man sitting obliquely opposite her.  Mr. Delicious Nicholson.  She didn’t know his first name but they had shared a Mathematics lecturer in her first year.  It had been an extremely large class, the only one that combined the Civil, Electrical, Electronic and Mechanical Engineering departments.  Spectacles did nothing to detract from his dark good looks and she had been dying to find an excuse to talk to him.  The opportunity had never presented itself.  Then he had disappeared and she’d thought, oh well, that one got away.

He smiled and she waved nonchalantly back.  He got to his feet and headed in her direction.  She watched his long stride quickly eat up the short distance between them and almost licked her lips.  His shoulders looked even broader than the last time she’d seen him a year ago.

God, he was as smooth and fine as Belgian chocolate!....

 

 

 

DO AS I SAY

 

Eighteen-year-old Tonya Phillips ran up the carpeted stairs and into her bedroom.  She wanted to freshen up before she met her boyfriend Eric later.  Usually they went straight to his house after college but today he was off to the pub to celebrate his friend Peter’s eighteenth birthday.  He had promised to be home by six o’clock, so she’d decided to make use of the free time by coming home and having a quick shower.

She was just about to open her wardrobe to select a suitable outfit when she thought she heard a faint thump coming from the room next to hers.  She held her breath and listened—there it was again!

Her heart started beating faster.  No one should be home, her father should be at his surgery and her mother at the Women’s Group meeting at church.

She cautiously tip-toed to her parents’ bedroom and peeped through the half-opened door.  She nearly screamed aloud at the sight reflected in the mirror!  Her best friend Karen was bent over the stool in front of her mother’s dressing table, her long single plait extensions cascading over her head, her body naked except for her cheerleading skirt which was bunched up around her waist—and Tonya’s father was taking her from behind….

 

 

 

THE NIGHT BEFORE

 

Suzette James turned over and snuggled up to her sleeping partner, her eyes still closed.  She flung her arm out, encountered warm flesh and let her hand wander over a flat stomach and upward to a mound of soft flesh.  She moulded it in her hand and felt the distinct hardening of a nipple.

A nipple!  For a crazy moment she thought that she was touching her own breast then she realized that she would have felt her touch.  Her eyes snapped open.  She closed and re-opened them quickly to see if the woman asleep on the pillow next to her would disappear.

She didn’t.

Then Suzette remembered the night before!

Mackenzie!....

 

 

 

SLEEPING HER WAY TO THE BOTTOM

 

“You’re next for the office slut—I’ve seen the horny bitch eying up your butt every time you walk past her office,” a high-pitched feminine voice warned.

“Not me!” a deep, masculine voice denied.  “I wouldn’t touch her with a barge pole!”

“They all say that and before you know it she’s got them licking her pussy like affectionate little puppies!”

“Well, that’s them!  I will not be licking her pussy—I never mix business with pleasure.”

“I’ll give her another month before she’s got you by the balls, too.”

Thirty-nine-year-old Darleen Smith smiled as she listened to the exchange between Shane, the ugliest gay man she’d ever met and Carl, her newest member of staff.  She knew they were talking about her—she was the only female in the building.  And she had made it her mission to sleep with all the men she hired.

Shane’s just fucking jealous, she thought.  Pissed off because I get more cock than he does!  Ugly bitch!....

 

 

 

FRUITS AND VEGETABLES

 

Elizabeth Parker’s clitoris was unusually large and sensitive.  She discovered it quite by accident while bathing at the age of sixteen.  Her mother had always insisted that she wash herself properly and she’d been using her flannel to thoroughly cleanse herself when the cloth slipped and her bare fingers had accidentally brushed against something that had sent a shiver through her entire body.  Innocently she had done it once more and again the same sensation had raced through her.  So she had done it again, and again, until she had cried out as a spasm of pleasure seized her body.  Instinctively, she’d squeezed her legs together, trapping her hand against the ultra sensitive nub of flesh….

 

 

 

OXFORD BLUE

 

An hour later, Samuel lay on his back on the uncomfortable bed in his cramped rented room and stroked his stiff aching penis.  He hadn’t masturbated in years but a cold shower had done nothing to ease the throbbing in his groin.

As a fourteen-year-old boy he’d had the biggest crush on Emma Boateng and now almost six years later she still had exactly the same effect on him.  She had been a legal secretary then and whenever she came home dressed in one of her smart suits and her high heels, his heart had leapt painfully in his chest.  She was about 5’7” but had weighed about a hundred and twenty five pounds, most of it on her lower half.  She’d had a real African woman’s behind—high and round.  Her breasts had been small and firm looking.  Even as a teenager he had imagined that he could span her slim waist with his hands.  She had laughed a lot and seemed so much younger than his parents and all other parents he knew, it had been hard to imagine she was old enough to be anyone’s mother.

He remembered how he had cried when he had hugged her goodbye at the airport, his poor teenage heart breaking at the thought of never seeing her again.

She had gained a little weight since he had last seen her but it only made her more feminine and even more appealing to him.  When she had reached out to hug him in greeting he’d felt his penis harden—that’s why he’d asked to use the bathroom.  Later, after her second hug, he had walked to the tube station with a massive hard-on….

 

 

 

TELEPHONE SEX

 

True fucking story!  So sorry I had to use bad language in the opening line but believe me, when you read on you’ll understand why I am still pissed off after almost six months.  Women, take my advice—never have telephone sex with a man you haven’t slept with.  Men, if you are reading this—don’t make promises you can’t fucking keep!

I met Richard at Night Moves nightclub.  When he took me in his arms I thought I’d died and gone to heaven, he smelt and felt so fucking good!  He stuck his tongue in my ear and told me to call him Dick.  My clit started jumping right away—Black men don’t generally use that shortened version of their name, so I knew the man was trying to tell me something.

First, give me a few minutes to describe this brother.  He was about 6’3” with shoulders so wide he must have to turn sideways to get through a standard door. His stomach was flat and he had an eight pack instead of a six.  His buns were high—not ‘girly’ high, but high in the kind of masculine way all you could think of was him riding you and you holding onto his ass like it’s a saddle.  Yes, that kind of masculine.  When he smiled he had dimples in each cheek and perfect, white teeth.  He had neat, shoulder-length dreadlocks and the man knew how to wear clothes.  Fuck me!....