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X-Art: Teasers Page 5
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Page 5
Jasmine pulled Scott’s cock from her lips and studied it, her hands still wrapped at the base. She jacked him up from the bottom and continued to prime him, looking as if she might pull off and spin around so that Scott could take off her panties. Instead, her lips hovered an inch from his tip. She unrolled her tongue and panted like she couldn’t help it. Then she swallowed him back, sliding low along his shaft, faster than before. She dropped her hand from his cock, planted both palms flat on the cushion, and fucked Scott hard with her mouth, without any hands.
Seconds before he would have filled her mouth with cum, Jasmine pulled off of his dick again and rose to her knees.
They traded stares, lightly swaying, inhaling the moment’s danger. Scott’s cock pointed from his center, straight at Jasmine like an arrow. His hand rose to her breast as though he couldn’t help it. He squeezed. She whimpered and nodded.
Scott gently turned her from him and lowered her bottoms. She sighed, trembling. Scott smiled, bracing to feel himself inside her. He wrapped his right arm around her waist and brought his fingers to her pussy. She put her hand on his wrist as he flicked at her slippery middle.
Scott’s dicktip tapped at the back of her ass as he kissed her. He slid his fingers in and around her juicy lips. She rocked her body up against his hand. Jasmine reached back to jack him as she moaned, kissed, and drenched her mouth in slobber. She was raw and ready enough to find her first orgasm with his fingers.
She threw her arm around his shoulder. Scott had to brace her as she shuddered and her body fell into a backwards arc.
Jasmine came quietly against his hand, grinding her pussy into his fingers as she wrapped her arm around his neck and shuddered against his body. She lost her grip on his dick, her hand collapsing to the side, then quickly to her pussy, and finally to her breasts.
Scott palmed her right tit as Jasmine continued to knead the left one. “When do you think they’ll be home?” she breathed.
Scott smiled. “Any minute.”
She turned around, fell to all fours, stuck her ass in the air, then spun back to Scott — tits hanging low and beautiful — and said, “Eat my ass, Scott. I promise I’ll be loud.”
He grinned, thanked whoever needed thanking for letting him ever get close to a girl like Jasmine, let alone making her a part of his everyday life, and added an apology in case he got the language or religion wrong in his gratitude, then fell to his knees, spread her cheeks as she stared forward, and buried his face in her ass.
Jasmine moaned and wiggled her ass against Scott’s face. His nose was almost touching her asshole as his tongue darted into the depths of her center. She screamed and bucked back against him, glazing his face.
Jasmine was dripping.
Scott pulled away as she tried to scoot forward. Her bikini bottoms were pulled to her knees so her movement was slightly awkward. He pressed a palm gently to Jasmine’s ass, held it — it’s OK, you don’t have to move — and positioned his dick at the entrance to her hole.
He pushed himself inside her, and she heaved.
She was on all fours, with Scott positioned like a conqueror behind her. He had one knee to the cushion — the one on her right — and the other in the air, parallel to her ass. His left hand was grabbing Jasmine by her side. His right he used for balance as he plunged in and out of her squelching hole, staring down, sinking into his movement and the sound of her pleasured moans.
Scott couldn’t see her tits swaying, but could imagine them, and loved the look of her round ass, beaded with sweat as he stared down at his dick sliding in and out of her. He grunted and groaned, moving in and out of Jasmine like he was sawing a log in two. She cried out, her body losing control. He pulled her toward him, into surrender.
Something — maybe a garage door opening — rumbled through the grounds, then echoed. Jasmine whimpered and looked around. Scott grunted, doing the same.
They would run if caught, as planned, race down the hill to their car. But they couldn’t get caught, because that would mean losing their perfect place. Scott couldn’t afford that: He loved the Jasmine who came there with him too much to lose her.
The home was owned by a large family, with no discernible pattern of traffic. Sometimes, everyone was home together, and left it in some state of occupation for days. Scott had also seen large stretches when the house harbored no one, including help.
At capacity, the home held a mom, dad, what seemed to be some sort of male attendant, a nanny, three teenagers (one who drove) two 10-somethings and a pair of twin toddlers. There was one hour each day when the house seemed to have the most chance of being empty. The place was gorgeous, the most beautiful they’d tried out so far, and offered a reasonably equal chance of getting caught, or getting away. Either could happen at any time.
They were taking their time despite the disruption, and that was getting Jasmine off, making her go even slower, almost like she wanted to get discovered, rather than simply not caring if they did. Scott could feel her restraint in the way Jasmine refrained from slamming her ass back onto him like she usually did. She was going slowly, as if she was baiting the clock, using their odds to get her off as much as Scott’s cock.
He looked over toward the fast moving traffic flying by on the other side of the low rock wall, not wanting to see his dick spearing into Jasmine. That would make him cum for sure, and that wasn’t what she wanted.
Scott plunged her steadily, trying not to drive in too deeply, knowing Jasmine wanted him to stay outside the edge of her orgasm. But instead of taking her around, Scott dipped Jasmine into it.
Her moans lost their regular beat. They grew frantic. He grunted as he nudged himself harder inside her. She swiveled around his shaft, shivering on his thick length. She finished her orgasm — strong and sharp as her frame slapped against his body — then fell against him, still shaking. Scott pressed his right hand to her breast, cupping and pushing as he brushed her pussy. He looked down, thinking that Jasmine couldn’t look hotter than she did, with her stolen bottoms snaking her ankles.
She turned to Scott, cheeks blushed in the same pink as her nipples. He slipped his dick in between her ass cheeks, and she lightly bobbed her body, sliding along his length, keeping him warm and getting him even harder until he was aching.
He grabbed himself by the base, pushed Jasmine to the cushion, buried his dick in her hole, and plunged her. She reached back, past his wrists, then planted hands on her ass, and spread her cheeks to get more of Scott inside her.
Jasmine’s body was at an incline, so each of Scott’s thrusts plunged sharply inside. Her tits swayed. Scott couldn’t stop staring as he pulled her back onto his throbbing cock several times, earning a louder scream from every pull. The final time was sharpest. She collapsed back on Scott, shuddering against his body as he pressed his hands to her tits, fingers splayed against her skin, tips meeting in the middle.
“Do you think they’re home?” Jasmine panted, turning her nose to the sky as if drawing its scent to her nostrils.
“Probably,” Scott whispered against her neck.
His hands swam across her body. Hers swam on top, pressing his harder against her before leading his right down between her legs.
Jasmine sighed and moaned, writhing in time with Scott as he swung his body back and forth behind her, knowing Jasmine enough to anticipate her every swivel. They moved back and forth, pressing themselves to each other. His hands fondled her, brushed her breasts at the nipples, always a single beat ahead or behind as their threaded fingers worked to mold pleasure like shape from clay.
She stayed with her back to Scott, and his dick pointed straight inside her. She swayed against him for a long and soulful while, especially considering they were borrowing seconds, then said, “I need you to fuck me harder.”
Jasmine fell forward, and planted her hands in front of her. He continued to slowly fuck her. “Stop it!” she ordered.
Scott fell back on his hands, stopped moving, and gave her what she wanted. H
is dick stood hard and proud, pointing straight out from his body. Jasmine used him like a peg on a wall, backing her ass repeatedly onto his dick, sliding to the top, then sinking down. All Scott had to do was stay rock and perfectly still as she slid back and forth on his shaft, working herself into a pungent lather.
She rocked herself to the edge, then pulled off of Scott, again at the edge of her orgasm.
Another loud noise, a second garage.
Scott’s heart beat faster.
Jasmine paused. She looked around her. He followed her eyes.
“I thought I heard something — did you hear it, too?”
Scott smiled. “I did.”
She smiled back. “Hurry up. Fuck me harder.”
Jasmine was covered in sweat. Her breath was shallow. She was holding too much inside, bottling pleasure she should have been pouring.
Jasmine wouldn’t last much longer. She pulled off her bikini bottoms and held them up, showing Scott their juice-stained interior before raising them to her nose and deeply inhaling, holding them high like a trophy for the Andersons, in case they were watching from a window upstairs.
She rolled to her side, propped herself on an elbow, and looked back at Scott as he pushed his cock past her puffy lips. He took his time, despite the danger, holding his dick at the base as he brushed her lips with his tip. She finished shuddering, and Scott pushed himself in to the hilt.
Jasmine’s hands reached back for her ass. She spread her cheeks, this time without pushing back. She barely moved. Instead, Jasmine stayed frozen, taking Scott’s pounding as he reached around to her tits, grabbed them — one in each hand — and railed himself into her.
Jasmine’s toes curled. Her body tightened. Her pussy clenched around his cock. She moaned from her depths. The sound of his their sticky skin slapping grew louder. Scott clutched her breasts harder, pressed his fingers deeper into her flesh, and pounded his dick into her cunt with an even greater fury.
Her head fell back, gritting teeth as she grunted.
They moaned together, and lost sanity in tandem. Scott was doing everything he could to keep from cumming, as Jasmine came for the third time (at least) and dribbled juice from her pussy.
Something loud from the balcony above them.
They had to be home.
Scott waited for some response from Jasmine’s body, but she gave none. Nor did she slow for a beat, and if anything encouraged him to fuck her faster. Cautious, he paused anyway.
Jasmine whimpered, reached behind, grabbed Scott’s cock, shoved it back into her pussy, and started slapping her ass against him. He fucked her harder, pawing her tits and sending her into another orgasm. Jasmine came, and he pulled out, turning around, desperate to kiss her.
She kissed him as he brushed fingers in and out of her slit.
Wordless, she lifted her body and repositioned herself on the cushion. Scott was sure she felt watched. He lay on his back, just as Jasmine would want him. She climbed on his body, swung a leg on each side, and slid down onto his pole like a slide. Her left hand was to the side of Scott’s face, her right at his shoulder. Her face hovered inches from his, tits dangling.
She ran her hands through his hair as Scott pushed his cock into her. He tried peering around her body to get a glimpse of the house and balcony, maybe see if someone was watching.
Jasmine pressed her body closer as if she didn’t want him to see.
She whimpered and writhed, loving what he was doing as she climbed his body and shoved her breasts in his face. His nose was between them as he played with her pussy from behind, running his pointer in and out of her swollen lips, then rubbing juices around the button up top.
He eyes widened as he saw what she couldn’t.
“What do you see?” Jasmine whispered, catching his smile.
He shook his head.
This had to be a surprise.
“Nothing, but you’re going to love it.” Scott laughed and panted, “Just keep fucking me. We have to finish.”
Jasmine grunted, “You got it!” and rocked her body harder against him, and dragging her tits across his chest.
She leaned down to kiss him. After their mouths made love for a moment she said, “I need you to finish. Can you do that, Scott? Can you fuck me hard and fill me with cum?”
“Yeah!” he grunted.
“Can you fill me with cum in under a minute?”
“Yeah!” he roared.
“Then do it!” she screamed, fucking him hard.
They were being watched. She had to know it.
Jasmine cried out in pleasure as her tits swung in his face. She pressed down on the cushion with one hand and his shoulder with the other as her body crashed into another loud orgasm, and poured more juice from her hole.
Scott grabbed Jasmine by the side and started lifting her high, then sliding her back with perfect control. He stared at her shaking tits, then down at his spearing dick as Jasmine screamed and flailed her body about, whipping like a flag in the wind, arms flying in wide arcs. She came so hard, he took it as permission.
He lifted his ass from the cushion, pushed hard against Jasmine’s cunt with a final bucking, and filled her with cum.
Scott shot a bucket. It immediately poured back out of her pulsing hole, down onto his shaft, and into his lap.
She pushed her body down against him, mashing her breasts to his chest as she rocked against him, milking the rest of Scott’s cum from his dick. When she felt him start to soften inside her, Jasmine lifted her body and let his cock fall flaccid to her skin.
He groaned.
She said, “So, how many are there?”
“All of them,” he laughed, holding her tightly against him.
In a moment she would turn and see, Mom, Dad, a male attendant, the female nanny, three teenagers, two kids around 10 years old, and a pair of toddlers, all open-mouthed. Everyone stared, except for the youngest children, who each had their eyes covered by an adult’s palm.
“Oh my,” Jasmine said. “I guess we won’t be back here again.”
“Definitely not,” Scott said, looking up at the balcony, rather than at Jasmine. “Ready to run?”
“Of course,” she said. “Race you to the bottom.”
the end
INSPIRED BY THE VIDEO “PLAY ME” ON X-ART
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Absolutely Gorgeous
I want you and miss you; I hate that you’re inside and I’m out here. I’ve been reading for an hour. The sky keeps getting bluer, and the air around me warmer.
More sticky. Like the mess between my legs.
I wasn’t seeking arousal — was hoping to flee it. But what could I expect: I fled to the balcony for escape, not because I wanted us to part, but because I know you’re busy. You’re behind, and can’t afford distraction; not even when it’s me.
Your deadlines loom like a fanged serpent.
But I can’t help it; seeing you flustered makes me hot. It’s not that I like seeing you upset — I don’t — but there’s something in the way you take command that gets me all gooey.
I came outside, then nested myself deep in the cushions of my second-favorite sofa. I keep telling myself that I’m reading, but after one humid hour I’m not sure I remember a page.
I’ve been thinking of you, hungry to be your distraction.
Now I’m hot, too hot, and can’t turn my mind off.
Our balcony is a thousand degrees, making me long to soothe the mess between my legs. I could use my fingers, then maybe when I’m done, you’ll be finished with your work and ready for me.
I’ll ache until then.
I try to quell my dull throbbing, but go from sticky to stickier as I imagine myself stepping through our sliding glass door to distract you. I want to feel the pleasant breeze brushing my nipples rather than th
e thin cotton of my simple, striped shirt.
Each wind’s kiss reminds me that I want you inside me.
I lick the back of my teeth, hungry for you to come out here and climb my waiting body. You don’t, and won’t, so I look left to make sure Mrs. Madison from next door, with her low drawl and wilted eyeliner, isn’t outside watering her hydrangea. Then I look to my right, wondering if I’ll see Jason watching me through his kitchen window, pretending to wash dishes while I read.
He does this sometimes. You know because I usually tell you.
Often while we’re fucking.
No one’s watching, so I pull off my shorts, then my panties.
My pussy is bald and sticky and waiting for your touch. You won’t come out, won’t stop plugging numbers into a spreadsheet that can and should wait.
Instead I’m waiting, picturing you wrapping your arm behind my back, lifting my pelvis to the tip of your expectant dick, then holding it still and making me wait, forcing me to ache through long and pregnant seconds until you push past my soft, puffy lips and ease yourself inside me, gathering speed and rhythm until your motion feels like magic.
There’s no Mrs. Madison and no Jason; still I feel anxious.
Nerves crackle my skin.
I stand from the couch and peel off my shirt. My breasts aren’t large, but I think they’re perfect. Every man I’ve ever been with has said so. You tell me most; whisper it always.
They feel good in my hand, I wonder how they feel for you. I brush my skin and fondle myself, teasing my nipples before sending my hand between my legs, parting my knees, nudging one against the cushion before draping the other down onto the ground.