X-Art: Teasers Page 3

  You bob up and down, cupping my balls in your palm.

  I put my hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you down so I can fuck your mouth harder. I thrust for a minute, until you part from my cock, leaving with a few teasing strokes, before crawling back up on the counter to surrender your ass.

  Your knees are flat on the table, and ass just above your heels. Your body is nearly flat, as if lowered in prayer, which in a way you are.

  With one of my hands on each of your cheeks, I part them like curtains and enter your cunt from behind. Your sigh is so deep I’m unsure if there’s a bottom.

  You rock your ass back and forth on my cock, faster and faster, fucking for both of us, and showing me you’re lost in desire by the length of your moan and the sound of your scream. Your tits sway above the table, and I can no longer help myself.

  I have to go faster and do, plowing into you fast — and hard enough — to cum.

  Your oh yeahs are piling to many a minute as your fingers curl into the tabletop to steady yourself, even though there’s no need — not with me holding you by the waist on either side, just hard enough to let me thrust as hard as I want, and shoot moans from your mouth like lighting from the sky.

  “Uh, Uh, Uh, Oh, Yeah, Oh, Yeah, MMMMM ... ”

  “Uh, Uh, Uh, Oh, Yeah, Oh, Yeah, MMMMM ... ”

  “Uh, Uh, Uh, Oh, Yeah, Oh, Yeah, MMMMM ... ”

  “Uh, Uh, Uh, Oh, Yeah, Oh, Yeah, MMMMM ... ”

  I’m ready to cum, but can tell you don’t want me to.

  I’d rather be your slave than anything on earth, so I don’t resist when again you pull your pussy away, then scoot back on the counter and turn your body to face me, nipples pointing and begging for my fingers.

  I crawl up on the table, scooting behind you to give you what I know we both want. I can smell it on you like sweat as my right hand carpets your breast.

  You plant your right foot on my knee, then curl your fingers around the base of my cock and start stroking it up and down the soaking wet lines of your flared opening, before moving it back to your tiniest hole. You tease yourself for a moment, mouth parted in pleasure as you slip my dick into your ass.

  I wrap my arms around your waist as I thrust in and out of your tiniest hole. You turn your head to meet my mouth, kissing me hard as I fuck your ass. Your whimpers give me fuel.

  I grab your waist harder to steady my thrusts. Your cries intensify and climb toward crescendo.

  Control turns to whisper as I clutch your left tit and throw my body hard against yours, pushing myself deeper into your asshole as you fill the kitchen with cries of pleasure. My balls are tight and swollen. I know I don’t have long.

  I slow my thrusts, sliding slowly in and out of your ass, until I finally pop all the way out. You smile at me as we shift positions for what will probably be the final time. I can’t take much more and now, finally, neither can you.

  I love your smile, and treat each one as the treasure it is.

  You give me one more, telling me without words that there’s nothing you love more than this spur of the moment between us, then return to your worship, lifting your ass as I stand behind it again, positioning the tip of my dick against the soaking wet line of your pussy as I rest my left palm on the flat of your back.

  I tease you for seconds, then slip inside you, fucking your asshole again. The table starts scraping harder against the floor as you clutch it hard with your fingers, afraid you might fall.

  “Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh,” you moan; heavy, deep and heaving.

  I love your ass, so tight, wrapping my cock like a vice.

  Your tiny screams are now stretching wider, and so loud I can no longer think.

  Your body’s bent low, nearly flat against the table, layered like lasagna: legs, knees, thighs, and torso. My hands are on your back.

  Still clutching the table tightly with one hand, you slip the other between your legs, back toward where my dick is filling your asshole with rapture.

  You furiously stroke your clit.

  Whimpers and screams collide into one; a wall of pleasure pours from your mouth, so much that you can no longer keep your hands in your pussy.

  I feel that final shudder and know I’m near blasting. You feel it, too.

  As much as I want to fill your asshole with cum, I know you want to see our reward as it shoots from my tip.

  I pull out and you reach behind, curling your fingers around the top of my cock then milking a long series of squirts across your overheated skin, spattering your body, up to your tits, down along the sides to your thighs, and, of course, all over your ass, leaking from the crack, down your cheeks and slathered across your perfectly puffy, pink pussy.

  I kiss your arm, and you squeal, happy and out of breath, probably already thinking about the next time we’ll lose ourselves to the spur of the moment.

  the end

  INSPIRED BY THE VIDEO “SPUR OF THE MOMENT” ON X-ART

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  http://leximaxxwell.com/x-art

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  Deep Longing

  I’ve been friends with Carmen for years.

  Four years, three months, two weeks, and a day to be exact. I know because that’s the day Mark and I got married. His best man, Steve, brought the stunning Carmen with him to our wedding .

  They had only just met, but Steve already “dug the fuck out of her.” He blathered through his introduction and every exchange after that. When Carmen went to the bathroom (and every time Steve managed to get Mark or me alone) he asked us what we thought about her, and if we thought she was really into him. Steve was obsessed, and it was easy to see why. I felt the attraction to Carmen, too.

  I’ve never been into girls, but I’ve been into Carmen since the second I met her. She licked her lips and, and even though it was my wedding day — I felt a flush in my cunt and wondered what her tongue would feel like slipping inside me. There was a wink, gleam, or a something in her eye. I replayed it many times, wondering exactly what it was I had seen until the first time we finally found ourselves together in bed, away from our men. Carmen said it was the same for her — she had never been into girls, but had always been into me.

  Carmen and I have been fucking for four years, one month, and three days. We only get the chance every so often. It isn’t easy as you might think, and neither of us wants to get caught, each of us with everything to lose when our combined forevers are all so good. Right now things are perfect. We do it when we can, and know it will be amazing. The four of us all wish we lived closer, wished we could get together more often, Carmen and I for different reasons than Mark and Steve.

  Tonight’s dinner had been on the calendar for a month. Carmen and I knew before the entrées were set on the table that we’d be going home ahead of the boys. Mark had started talking fantasy football, which meant if the girls left the men to their own devices — which they certainly would — they would probably suggest swinging by Ale Mary’s and catching up with some of the guys after dinner.

  Sure enough, that’s exactly what happened.

  Carmen and I raced home, squeezing hands at red lights, each of us nibbling on our own bottom lips when lights turned green and we couldn’t nibble each other.

  I have a deep longing for Carmen, like nothing else I’ve ever felt. I love my husband, Mark, more than anything in this world. But there’s a depth to sex with Carmen that’s different, somehow deeper, than it is with anything I’ve ever shared with a man.

  I don’t want an affair. I don’t want to sneak whispers in e-mails and letters. I don’t want to trade covert I love yous, or my husband to feel like a fool.

  But I must feel the way Carmen makes me feel, and know there is no substitute. So we are always careful when allowing ourselves to collide.

  We crashed through the door, kissing.

  We couldn’t kiss in my building, so our walk thro
ugh the lobby, standing inside the elevator — with Mrs. Bueller beside us — and down the long hallway to our apartment at the end was absolute torture. But the other side of the door was safe, and that’s where we exploded all over each other.

  Carmen’s mouth tasted amazing. We kissed hard. Sweet and wonderful. I pressed my mouth to hers, pushing Carmen’s beautiful body up against the door. Our lips had barely brushed before she spun me around, mashed herself harder to my mouth and pressed me to the door.

  My hands were in her hair, her hands were in mine. We both fumbled at the other’s clothes. I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and waited for Carmen to kiss me. She pushed her lips and body to my matching set of each. I sighed, moaned, and wanted more. Her hands found the top of my neck, thumbs brushed my ears at their bottoms. I was wet during dinner, wetter on the ride home, and as she kissed me hard inside my apartment, I was a bucket of water in need of her face.

  We laughed while kissing, each of us grateful for the evening’s treasure. Our hands found our centers. We were in each other’s panties, turning fingers hard and pushing them into our respective middles, rubbing one another just like we would rub ourselves, fueling excitement between us.

  Her hand stayed at my pussy. Mine went to her tits. We managed to kiss harder and softer, longer, lips lingering until Carmen pulled her face from mine, leaving a long thread of spit between us.

  I reached out to peel the shirt from her body. Carmen slapped my hand, held it up over my head with her left, then took her right and vigorously rubbed the black denim over my swollen pussy lips.

  I let Carmen do what she wanted, hands over my head, crossed at the wrists, held in place as her hands and mouth grew insistent. Still rubbing, she tasted my lips, then ran her tongue across them.

  So wet I was achy, I wanted to devour her. Until then I’d sink into her devouring me. Our time is rare, the night a gem. It had been too long, nearly four months, and I’d felt hollow a while.

  Carmen curled her palm up against my cunt and pressed hard. Heat poured from my body, and my screams gained urgency. Carmen grew aggressive, spun me to the other side of the room and pushed me up onto the counter, like she was a man and I was her hole.

  Carmen is gorgeous but masculine. Feminine in her hair, skin and eyes, loving touch and longing looks, the softness of her kiss, and the creamy folds between her legs, but she’s a man in her insistence, and occasional entitlement, as if I belonged to her, as if I owed her the pleasure of my body, as both giver and receiver.

  My hands were all over Carmen’s top, wanting to pull it off. She yanked off mine, raising the black fabric, but keeping it at the top of my face, imprisoning my eyes like she had imprisoned my wrists a few minutes before.

  Carmen pressed her body to my naked tits then drew back. I felt her breath as she hovered in front of my blindfolded face, covered by my half-raised shirt. I opened my mouth and waited.

  She filled it first with a finger, then with her tongue. And finally, with the full softness of her lips and a kiss. I opened my mouth wider, letting her taste me. She licked my tongue several more times, slow with long laps across it, then clamped her mouth to mine.

  Lips danced, tongues swam. It felt warm, wet, and wonderful between us. Carmen giggled as I playfully struggled at my blindfold, then made a long lap at my neck with her tongue. She finished and came up to kiss me again.

  I stuck out my tongue, and she met it with hers. We circled our tips for several seconds before Carmen’s was in my mouth and mine was in hers. We clamped and parted. She ran her fingers down my breasts, fingers pressing into my nipples. My head lulled back, and my parted lips lost their moan.

  I needed my shirt off, along with my pants. And I needed Carmen’s face pressed up into my cunt.

  I couldn’t wait, but she was enjoying her game too much to change it. Carmen kept me a prisoner in my shirt. Her left thumb pressed into my breast, her mouth on nipple. She licked me until I could take it no longer.

  I moaned and pulled my body from Carmen. I had to take what I needed — starting by stripping the shirt from my body. I tore it from my head, threw it to the floor, and met Carmen’s lips with a kiss.

  That kiss was the best of the evening so far, slow and passionate. Long, better now for knowing where it was going. Soon we would be naked, and I would have her lips where I needed them. Soon I would touch and taste and have parts of Carmen inside me. Soon I would be back to making more of my favorite memories, the kind that keep me warm when I’m not.

  I pawed at Carmen’s body, she pawed at mine.

  She licked my nipples everywhere and repeatedly, finding tiny moles all over my body and painting each with her tongue. Carmen looked up at me the entire time, as if she loved my eyes as much as my skin and hair, titties and nipples, the bald pussy I shaved just for her, though Mark will of course think I did it for him.

  I leaned back, head to the wall, ass pressed against the entryway counter, palms slapped at either side of my body, small tits swollen, nipples hard and pointing, one in Carmen’s mouth as she pushed her body between my parted legs.

  Carmen glanced up, giving me the look I imagine so often, the one that says she’s hungry, the one that gets me wet whenever I need it. Carmen pulled my pants down by their waistband, slithered her hand down my piping-hot skin, and dipped two fingers into my soaking hole. She started stirring like a spoon inside stew.

  Carmen churned, and I moaned to her rhythm.

  Four months ago, we made love in what was the riskiest liaison so far. We vowed to slow down, be more careful. We had to. The four of us had a camping trip planned. Carmen and I promised one another we wouldn’t even try — too easy to get caught. Fucking in the woods was stupid, and we weren’t goddamned teenagers.

  But we couldn’t help it.

  Carmen sucked chocolate and marshmallow with intention around the campfire, pretending she was doing it for Steve, but I knew who it was for. That night after Mark and I went into our tent, and they went in theirs, after I took Mark’s warm milk in my mouth (she did the same for Steve) and they were both snoring, we snuck into the forest, got what we wanted, muffling moans under the moon until we were heaving and spent. We stayed half dressed through the encounter.

  We didn’t get caught during the camping trip, but it felt close, and had infected my thoughts as I bounced my ass on the counter and Carmen dug into my cunt with her mouth. Part of me wanted to linger, but most of me was frightened that our men might hit Ale Mary’s and find it closed, or maybe with none of their friends hanging around.

  That part trembled in worry more than excitement.

  Carmen pressed the heel of her hand to my skin and started dragging her fingers along my juicy folds.

  I came immediately.

  It was soft (hard would come later) but powerful, rippling through my body and rumbling through my lower back. The hand not inside my pants circled her neck; I pushed my body to Carmen as she churned her fingers inside me.

  Carmen went from rubbing to thrusting. I came again, harder than the first time. She added a third finger and plunged the trio into my soaking depths over and over in time with my moaning and whimpers.

  Carmen couldn’t make it more than a minute without kissing me. When I screamed loudest — because I was cumming hardest — she gripped me hard with her hand, shoved her three digits in me to the knuckle, and lightly rocked as I came all over her fingers, whimpering into her thrusts.

  I screamed, grateful for our apartment’s thick walls and doors, grabbed Carmen’s face and pulled her to my lips.

  We scrambled, her pressing my body into the counter, naked from the waist up. She was still in her clothes from the restaurant. I had already cum three times, reduced to a puddle who would smile through anything Carmen wanted me to do.

  She wanted me to beg.

  Once I did, the world would be better.

  “Please,” I whimpered.

  Carmen looked up at me, smiling.

  “Please put your mouth on
my pussy. I need it. You made me need it.”

  Carmen laughed, victory on her lips.

  “Say you want me more than Mark.”

  I groaned, “I want you more than Mark!”

  “Say you need me.”

  “I need you.”

  “Say… ”

  “I’ll say whatever you want,” I cried out, voice cracking. “But please stop teasing me. Please, Carmen, put your mouth on my pussy.”

  Without another word Carmen started to slide my pants toward my ankles. Before they passed my pussy she paused, looked between my legs, smiled at my bright-pink and puffy lips, pulsing and hungry, and lightly kissed me on the pelvis, just above my clit, leaving me with her hot breath and a beautiful promise of more.

  Carmen stood straight, dragged my pants over my body and ankles, then dropped them on the floor. She smiled at my naked frame and lifted my legs, then tongue extended, buried her face in between them.

  Carmen acted like a man, holding my legs high, shoving me against the wall, and proving her dominance while teasing me with all she might do. From eyes to expression, every motion was a taunt.

  I reached out, grabbed the bottom of Carmen’s white top, and lifted it, spilling her tits into my apartment. Once naked, it was easier to see that Carmen was suffering the same hunger as me. Her nipples were bright-pink and rock-hard, hungry for my lips and tongue. I gave her my hands first, wondering if it felt as good for Mark when he’s pawing my tits as it does for me when I’m playing with Carmen’s.

  We were still barely inside the apartment, a few feet from the door. I wanted to get to the bedroom. If the boys came home we wouldn’t be able to move fast enough once we heard a key hit the lock. I ignored my instinct to drag us both back to my bedroom because Carmen’s lips had filled me with heat. Her mouth all over my pussy was like concrete at my feet.