Sex Every Day Volume 3: 7 Single Serving Fantasies Read online

  Sex Every Day Volume 3

  7 Single Serving Fantasies

  Lexi Maxxwell

  EROS | A division of Sterling & Stone

  Contents

  Title Page

  Fucking in the Great Outdoors

  Cheating in a Posh Hotel

  The Horny Hitchhiker

  My Female Co-Worker is Eating My Pussy

  Fucking for a Better Grade

  I Trade Pussy For Rent

  I Blew 4 Guys at Once

  About the Author

  © 2017 Lexi Maxxwell. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

  Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. Please consider leaving a review wherever you bought the book, or telling your friends about it, to help us spread the word.

  For a free ebook and news about upcoming releases, please visit leximaxxwell.com.

  Fucking in the Great Outdoors

  Carrie could no longer relax.

  She didn’t even know how, and barely remembered a time when she had. She’d only been on vacation for 48 hours, and her phone had rung three times. Every one was a call from work, even though she had told them to only call in emergencies, and not one of the calls coming in from Newport Mercedes resembled anything remotely close to that.

  Plus the children had been auditioning for a bickering-sibling reality show since 9:00 a.m.

  Carrie needed a real vacation.

  She loved her children — but at 10, 14, and 16, one was always bugging the other. Katrina, their 16-year-old, was in a permanent bad mood. She would have preferred staying home with her boyfriend to crossing the country with her parents and two little brothers.

  Katrina and Carrie were in constant conflict, mostly because Katrina couldn’t understand why Carrie wouldn’t let her grow up. She was ready for more independence, and clearly wanted to take care of herself.

  Carrie scoffed at the thought as she unpacked the family’s cooking supplies, watching her children scatter to three of the four corners of their campsite. Brandon was standing over in the fourth. Carrie looked over at him, hoping to send him a smile, but his back was to her.

  They hadn’t had sex in so long, Carrie had to really think back to remember how much she’d once loved it — how he would get aggressive, bark orders at her, whether in public or not. Once upon a time, they’d loved public sex, and partook whenever they could. Carrie could remember the time she’d had been so hot after her third margarita at Juan Carlos that she’d ended up bent over in the alley, topless, screaming at Brandon to cum all over her back while he pounded her from behind with one palm slapped against a wall. She’d cried and squealed and moaned as Brandon grunted, shooting sticky ropes all over her creamy skin … while Carlos the busboy stared open-mouthed from the doorway.

  They’d been asked to please never return to Juan Carlos. Despite the fact that they had the best chipotle shrimp in the city, neither Brandon nor Carrie minded.

  Nothing was worse than drifting apart from your family, Carrie thought, pulling a final tote from the hatchback and dropping it to the dirt.

  We used to have so much fun on our family vacations.

  Carrie thought back to the family’s first cross-country vacation. Katrina had been eight, Nathan six, and Vinny two. They’d all been so excited no one could keep still. Carrie and Brandon had set up camp while Katrina took pictures of everything.

  Shaking her head, Carrie vowed to blow the dust off that photo album once home.

  Vinny ran from his corner to Nathan’s, while Nathan tried to avoid him. Katrina sat on the farthest picnic table, texting.

  “Katrina!” Carrie called, “Come here, please!”

  Katrina rolled her eyes like they were headed downhill, looking as put out as if Carrie had asked her to please plot her menstrual cycle on the family calendar. She looked down at her phone again, probably to spite her mother, then sulked over to see what Carrie wanted.

  “What?”

  Where did my excited little girl go? Carrie thought. “Hey, sweetie, can you please help me get our stuff unpacked?”

  “Might as well, there’s nothing else to do.” Katrina reached into a tote, pulled out a stack of plastic plates, then slammed them onto the wooden table.

  As they unpacked in silence, Carrie wondered what she could do to return her family to what it once was. She had to start somewhere, and could tell by Katrina’s wrinkled mood that familial bliss wouldn’t start blooming from her.

  But Carrie had to make things better; her family needed her to pull them together.

  She looked at Brandon as he fumbled with the new “easy 3-step set up” tent they’d picked up at Target for the trip. She set their propane stove beside a pouch of wieners, then went over to her husband. “Brandon?” She smiled. “Do you need help?”

  “I’m not sure what the hell you think is so damned funny,” he growled.

  His attitude caught her off guard. “Don’t talk to me like that!” she snapped, “I was only offering to help!” Shocked to find tears spilling from her eyes, she spun to hide her disappointment, but wasn’t fast enough.

  Brandon rushed to her side and set a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry. This stupid tent just isn’t as easy as the box promised…”

  He trailed off as tears streamed Carrie’s face. Carrie never cried. She was the family’s rock, and had taken the full weight of every calamity, from Brandon getting laid off from the tire factory, to Katrina’s school suspension six months before.

  But now she was off. Five long years of stifled emotions poured through her tear ducts and spilled onto the bright green grass beneath her feet. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop the tears from spilling.

  Brandon’s shock made her cry harder.

  “Baby—” He made things worse by using the pet name that was once like cream in her coffee — and now more like diamonds in a mine. Her sobs thickened as she realized he’d not called her Baby in years.

  In the depths of her sorrow, Carrie’s cell started screeching from her pocket. She pulled out her phone and flung it toward a thicket of trees. Carrie heard a loud cracking as the cell split into pieces and scattered on the ground. She ran off toward the trees as her family stared, open-mouthed behind her.

  She stopped short of the trees and ducked inside the bath house, bracing herself over the white porcelain sink, sobbing into the basin as tears pooled at the bottom and slid down the drain. She was falling apart — and so was her family.

  Carrie ran a slender hand through her brown curls, inhaling through her shudders. The air inside the bath house was crisp and clean. It felt great, stretching and filling her lungs. The pristine air muffled her emotions and filled her with resolve. She swiped the remaining tears from her eyes and cheeks, then stared at her reflection in the Plexiglas mirror.

  She needed sleep — true sleep. The kind that could kill the black circles under her eyes. Ever since she’d started climbing to the top of the sales pack at Newport Mercedes, Carrie had been running on five hours of sleep a day, max. After helping with homework, running the extra mile required for extracurricular activities, and trying to stay ahead of their bills so Brandon wouldn’t stress out over not having a job, Carrie was threadbare.

  She’d already smashed her work cell — why not do something else crazy? Carrie continued to stare in the mirror, swearing that she would relax, and do something exciting each day to lift h
er mood and return the smile to her face.

  She left the bath house feeling almost grateful for her breakdown.

  Everyone was quiet and helpful through the evening. Brandon must have said something to the kids — or maybe it was seeing her snapping. Carrie wasn’t sure where the change came from, but did appreciate the easy evening. The family ate turkey sandwiches and pasta salad for dinner, then Brandon fixed a fire and everyone made S’mores. They laughed about family disasters and vacations past, piling pleasant memories high enough to raise Carrie’s spirits.

  Carrie tucked each of her kids into their sleeping bags one by one, kissing them on their foreheads and promising that tomorrow they would do something especially fun and exciting. The boys smiled, nodded, and said nothing.

  Katrina wasn’t yet in her bag. Carrie kissed her goodnight just outside her one-man tent.

  Her daughter’s forehead creased with concern. “Mom,” she said in a whisper, “I’m sorry about being such a brat. I’ll try to be more helpful. I promise.”

  Carrie swallowed her tears. “You’re not a brat, Kat; you’re 16. It’s hard to be cooped up with your family in a car for two days and not be grouchy. Thanks for saying that, sweetie. I promise we’ll have a great time tomorrow.”

  Katrina smiled, slipped into her tent, then disappeared as she lowered the zipper. Brandon slipped behind Carrie, led her over to the bench, lowered her to sitting, then sat behind her on the wooden table top and started gently rubbing her shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry, Baby,” he whispered against her hair.

  “Do you know how long it’s been since you called me Baby?” she said, a lump back in her throat.

  “Too long,” he admitted, cupping Carrie’s chin in his hand, then turning her toward him before planting a crushing kiss on her lips. “It’s been too long for too many things.”

  She smiled. “So let’s fix it.”

  They held each other for a long moment until Carrie pulled away and turned to Brandon, a spark alive in her eyes, glistening in the soft light of the crackling fire. Cool evening air kissed her skin.

  Brandon’s warmth radiated to her front as fire warmed her back.

  Carrie’s thoughts turned filthy as she held Brandon with her eyes: the man she had slept beside nearly every night for 19 years. Her hand slid to his front, between his legs. He jumped, eyes growing wide with surprise and dark with desire.

  She stroked his long, hardening length beneath the soft, worn denim, watching as the green flecks in his eyes darkened to emerald. Her touch made his cock throb.

  Brandon winced as it pressed against the hard metal of his zipper. “The boys are asleep in our tent,” he whispered.

  “I wasn’t planning on going into the tent, Brandon,” she purred.

  Meaning sank in and set his dick twitching. His eyes glowed brighter as he smiled.

  Carrie grinned back, feeling like a sexy animal. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d done anything daring, especially something that would make them feel so electric.

  “Where?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  She looked around, spotted a small swath of shrubs in the shadows, and pulled Brandon from the table by his wrist. She tugged him toward the shrubs, her pussy pounding as it sent sweet sap dripping between her legs.

  Carrie was hotter than the campfire as she checked in every direction. Once she was satisfied that they wouldn’t be spotted by the two groups of campers not more than a half-dozen feet away, Carrie tugged the shirttail from her jeans, pulled her shirt over her head, and seductively caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

  Hair spilled in a veil across her eyes as Carrie bent her arms behind her, unclasped her bra, and freed her full tits — D for delicious, Brandon had always called them.

  Brandon’s eyes first widened, then narrowed into thin slits, as he practically dove at Carrie’s chest, taking first one then the other into his strong hands.

  Pleasure pounded unrelenting through her body, like spring melting down from the mountains, as he pulled each nipple between his fingertips, rolling them into hard nubs.

  Carrie wanted to slam him to the ground and fuck him silly, bouncing on his cock until every frustration she’d buried for half a decade was vented into the crisp mountain air. But Brandon was taking his time, enjoying his exploration. Carrie loved that he was, and she wanted to let him.

  His smooth tongue flicked softly against her tender skin, bringing her close to orgasm from movement alone. She craned against his mouth, licking her lips as she struggled to suppress her rising scream.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he whispered against her flesh, his words sending confidence in a current through her veins. “I’m going to take my time fucking you.”

  His rare dirty talk inched her toward the edge. Her breathing gained speed as the muscles under her black satin panties quivered.

  Another flick of his tongue, and Carrie lost all control. Juices spewed from inside her, coating the soft fabric beneath, dripping through to coat the soft skin of her toned thighs.

  “There’s my hot wife,” Brandon breathed against her heaving chest. “Let it out, Baby. I’m going to fuck you soon, and I want you ready.”

  Brandon’s words vibrated through her skin and into the depths of her stomach. Carrie realized she had no clue when her pussy had last pulsed with so much want. Her cunt was aching for Brandon’s hands as he made seconds feel like minutes, kneeling beneath her, slipping her buttons open and her zipper down. His fingers hooked into her belt loops, then he tugged her pants into a pool at her feet.

  As Carrie stepped out of her pants, Brandon’s hot hand cupped her swollen slit. He rocked his hand back and forth, coating his palm with the juices that had spewed from her depths just moments before. His hand worked torturous circles around Carrie’s throbbing clit as she slapped her hands on top of his shoulders for leverage.

  Peeling sticky fabric from his trembling prize, Brandon claimed every inch of Carrie’s skin with his mouth, moving slowly toward her small patch of black curls before sinking his tongue into her slit. His wet tongue swirled in circles, making her even hungrier for him.

  “Touch me,” she gasped.

  Carrie felt Brandon smile against her skin as he ran a swaying line from her clit to her asshole with his finger tip, smearing juices onto her folds before trailing it back to her overheated hole. Sinking a solitary finger inside her, he quickly withdrew and rubbed a circle around her asshole. As he eased his finger inside her tight hole, his tongue sank deeper into her pussy, drawing out her inner river, too long contained.

  She rocked her ass against his hand, driving his finger deeper. His mouth lapped at her juices, now flowing uninhibited from her sopping hole as his finger drove harder into her. He paused, drawing a low moan from deep inside her, then spun her around and laid a heavy hand on her back.

  Brandon shoved three fingers deep into her slit. Her brain failing, Carrie simply rocked her ass back onto his hand, reveling in the rapture of being filled in both holes at once by her man.

  She finally found her voice and whispered, “I want you to cum in my ass.”

  His fingers moved quicker, loosening her tight holes as he leaned in to take a piece of her tender ass between his teeth.

  Carrie yelped.

  He shushed her before softly asking, “What are you?”

  The question made her smile, remembering the game they’d once played.

  She gasped as he slipped an additional finger between her tightening folds and repeated in a growl, “What are you?”

  “Your cumwhore,” she panted.

  Brandon had always loved it when Carrie was submissive, but she knew it held deeper significance now that he felt like less of a man. Losing his job had been so hard on him — on all of them.

  He sped up his thrusts, driving his fingers into her ass and pussy as Carrie moaned loud enough to get them caught. Pleasure poured from her pussy, spraying his denim-covered legs.

  “You g
ot me dirty, you cumwhore,” he whispered, landing a hard kiss on her behind.

  Carrie giggled, her head light from the unfamiliar release.

  She was giddy as Brandon pulled his fingers from her holes and commanded, “Down on your knees, cumwhore.”

  She silently obeyed, their long-forgotten game exciting, sending thrills straight to her core. As his thick length popped out from its fabric prison, she took it in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip before taking it all into her throat. Then she withdrew it, sucking hard on the tip before slamming it back down in her throat.

  Brandon’s groan pulled a fresh coating of juices from Carrie’s depths.

  He grabbed a handful of hair from the nape of her neck as he quickened his strokes into her mouth. As both his hands fisted in her blonde curls, Carrie moaned, sending vibrations from her throat to the tip of Brandon’s dick. His breath quickened, and Carrie knew his load was coming.

  She pulled back and took her mouth from his throbbing cock, leaving him teetering at the edge of release.

  A low primal growl shuddered from his mouth, swelling up and out from deep inside his lungs as he pulled her up by her hair and planted a crushing kiss on her lips. Once finished, he pushed her from his body and sent her back to her knees, shoving her down onto all fours. Adrenaline rushed through her body as he spread her knees with his hands and positioned himself for entry.

  Brandon’s hand cupped Carrie’s slippery slit, dragging curled fingers through its middle to collect her natural lube, then smearing across his veiny cock before pressing it against her asshole. The pressure of his entry brought a lung-full of fresh mountain air streaming into Carrie’s lungs, then pleasure sent it spewing back out in a loud moan.

  As Brandon thrust his full length into Carrie, she reached between her legs to stroke his ballsack twice before sinking three manicured fingers deep into her throbbing pussy.

  As they stroked her holes in tandem, their breathing grew rapid. Brandon’s prick began to fill with his hot white load.