Excerpt for Filthy Naughty Lust - 5 Hardcore Tales by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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Jesse Flynn

Copyright 2018 by Jesse Flynn


    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

DISCLAIMER: These stories are intended for a mature audience only! Contains explicit, graphic sex and language, including rough and aggressive sex, dirty talk, anal sex, alpha males, bdsm, femdom, and more. Not intended for individuals under the age of 18 or those with a weak constitution. All characters are over 18 years old.











It was just after 11PM on December 31st when Henry Smith saw Jenny’s car pull into the parking lot of the apartment complex they shared. He was on the front porch, listening to the sounds of The Mars Volta coming from his living room speakers, a pack of cigarettes on the table in front of him and an ice bucket with two bottles of Blue Moon by his feet. All around him were the sounds of partying, as multiple gatherings of drunken fools used the last day of the calendar year as an excuse to make as much noise as possible.

He lit a cigarette and sat there smoking as he watched Jenny’s car pull into a spot near the rear of the lot. She climbed out, looking even hotter than usual (which was saying quite a bit) and started towards the entrance to the complex, which was right next to his patio.

Jenny was all dolled-up, wearing a pair of high heels and a short green dress that showed off her perfect body—sculpted arms, large, firm breasts, incredible legs that just wouldn’t quit and a washboard stomach. He noticed right away that she was walking with more urgency than usual, as though she was either in a hurry to get somewhere or pissed off.

As she got closer, he could see that her hair was a mussed up and her face was fixed in a scowl. She was pissed off, all right. That was certain. He found himself wondering what had happened but knew he wouldn’t ask. While they had spoken a few times in the six months since he’d moved in, it wasn’t like they had anything even resembling a friendship. A couple of words in the laundry room, a nod in the hall, that sort of thing. Not enough to pry into her personal life as she passed by his patio. Not by a long-shot. Hell, he didn’t know if she even knew his name.

But, as it turned out, she did know it. And not only that, but she made the first move, even though he didn’t recognize it for what it was at the time. It wasn’t much really, just a glance in his direction as she approached the entrance to his left. A glance, followed by a longer look, then a question.

“You’re Henry, right?”

He nodded, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach.

“I’m Jenny.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Jenny’s scowl softened into a shy little smile, as though she was flattered that he knew who she was. “You got any more of those smokes?” she said.

“About half a pack,” Henry replied.

“You mind if I join you for a couple?”

“Not at all,” he said, trying to play it smooth despite the surprise and excitement coursing through his system.

“Cool,” Jenny said, climbing through the bushes towards his patio. “I could really use something to help me unwind.”

She made her way through the bushes and sat in the empty chair on the opposite side of his little patio table. Henry shook a cigarette out and handed it to her. He flicked his lighter open, lit her cigarette and then his own. Then he grabbed the last two beers from the bucket, opened them, and offered her one.

“Thanks,” she said.

“My pleasure,” Henry replied.

Jenny took a long pull of her beer and followed it up with a drag from the cigarette. She leaned her head back and made a circle with her lips and blew the smoke into the air. Henry didn’t want to stare at her but found it exceedingly difficult not to. She was just so damn gorgeous, from her silky black hair to her big brown eyes to her petite little nose to her full lips and flawless skin. And from the way she held herself, it was obvious she didn’t mind being stared at; in fact she seemed to encourage it.

Henry’s dick was getting hard just from looking at her. “I didn’t know you smoked,” he said, trying to steer his mind out of the gutter.

“I don’t,” she said. “Not often, at least. Only when things are going really bad.”

“I take it tonight is one of those nights?”

“It certainly is.”

“Guy trouble?”

“Something like that.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Fair enough.”

Jenny took another drag, held it for a moment, then blew the smoke out. “So why aren’t you out and about tonight? You know, it being New Year’s Eve and all.”

“It’s just not my thing,” Henry said. “Don’t get me wrong, I like a good party as much as the next guy, but I just don’t get the whole holiday craze. To me, tonight is just another night. No different than any other.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Jenny said. “I mean, here I was, all dressed up, looking to have some fun—” She finished the rest of her beer, set the bottle down and started to stand up. “But since you’re not interested, I guess I’ll just go back to my place and get my vibrator out.”

Henry nearly spit his beer all over the table.

“Oh, did that get your attention?” Jenny said, acting all innocent despite the look in her eyes that said she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Maybe just a little,” Henry said, trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

Jenny’s mouth turned up in a little smirk. “Yeah, I thought it might. So what do you say?”

“About what?” Henry replied, careful to not presume too much. After all, he barely even knew her.

“About coming back to my place,” she said as though it was nothing at all. “I mean, I know you don’t really care if it’s New Year’s Eve or just another random night, but I do. And I’d rather spent it with an actual live person instead of a plastic battery-powered toy.”

Containing his excitement behind a wall of feigned indifference, Henry said, “Well, I guess if it means that much to you . . .”

“It does,” Jenny said. “So grab your smokes and let’s go.”


Five minutes later they were in Jenny’s kitchen. On the granite counter in front of them was a bottle of Jack Daniels and a pair of shot glasses.

“I’d like you to meet my good buddy Jack,” Jenny said, extending her hand towards the bottle.

Henry nodded towards it. “Hello there, Jack.”

“Have you two met before?”

“Once or twice,” Henry said.

“Jack’s one of my best friends,” Jenny said, picking up the bottle. “He’s helped me through many hard times over the years. Most of my friends are into heavier stuff, but not me. Not often, at least. I prefer my good friend Jack. He always treats me right. Unlike most of the men I know.” She held the bottle up to her face and gave it a kiss. “Ain’t that right, Jack?”

Henry eyed her wearily, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. And whether or not it was too late to get himself out of it. Or if he even wanted to. He’d been with his share of women over the years, but they’d mostly been traditional hook-ups; co-workers, friends of a friend, the occasional drunken one-night stand, that sort of thing. Nothing like this had never happened to him before, not even close. And while he wasn’t opposed to it, he certainly didn’t feel real comfortable right now.

But before he could settle on a course of action, Jenny took matters into her own hands. She filled the shot glasses, then grabbed the nearest one and held it up for a toast. Henry grabbed the other one and clinked it against hers.

“Bottoms up,” Jenny said, effortlessly shooting the Jack.

Henry did the same, grimacing a bit as it went down.

Jenny laughed. “Are you all right?” she said, grabbing the bottle and filling the glasses up once again as she talked.


“You sure? It didn’t look like Jack treated you all that nicely.”

“I’ll be fine,” Henry said. And to prove it, he grabbed the glass and threw another shot down, grimacing only slightly this time.

“Not bad,” Jenny said. She shot her glass and started filling them up yet again. Her eyes had a psychotic little tilt to them. Henry wasn’t sure if the butterflies in his stomach were due to excitement or fear. Or perhaps both.

Oh well, he thought, nothing a few more shots couldn’t cure.


Six shots later and Henry was starting to feel the effects of the Jack. Nothing too serious yet, but he knew from experience that it took a little while for shots to fully kick in. Within a few minutes he would undoubtedly be buzzing hard, if not outright drunk.

Jenny was feeling it too. He could see it in her eyes, could smell it on her breath, could taste it on her lips when she suddenly stepped towards him and clamped them onto his. Her tongue darted into his mouth and he replied in kind, all the while trying to keep from thinking too much about what was going on.

Just go with the flow, he told himself. And he did, following Jenny’s lead on everything, from the rapidly increasing intensity of their kissing, to touching, to groping each other. He was just starting to wonder if he should take the lead into the next phase when Jenny pulled back, grabbed the bottle of Jack, and took a swig straight from the bottle.

“So what do you say, Henry? Do you think you can give me what I need?” she said, handing the bottle over to him.

“That depends on what it is.”

“I need to get fucked.”

Henry took a drink. “I think I can help you out with that.”

“You think you can?” she said. “Or you can.”

“I can.”

“I’m not talking about making love, or having sex, or any weak shit like that,” Jenny said. “I’m talking about getting fucked. Hard. Aggressive, rough sex. Can you handle that?”


“Are you sure? It may get pretty crazy.”

Henry took another swig of the Jack, then said, “Positive.” And he almost believed it.

Smiling, Jenny said, “Great. Then hold on tight.” She grabbed the bottle out of Henry’s hand and took one more swig, then set the bottle on the counter and dropped to her knees, right there in the kitchen.

“Whoa,” Henry said. “Wait a second—”

“It’s too late now,” Jenny said as she yanked his jeans open and pulled them and his boxers down to his knees without any hint of gentleness. Henry’s cock was already hard; it had been since they’d started screwing around. “I tried to warn you,” she said. “Now it’s too late.”

Henry started to say something but Jenny wrapped her lips around his cock and took the whole thing in her mouth, shutting him up instantly except for the soft, wordless sigh that came from his mouth.

Jenny held her position—deepthroating Henry’s cock, hands gripping his ass, nose touching his stomach—for a full 5 seconds before backing off to catch her breath. One of her hands went to the base of his shaft and grabbed on tight while the other cupped his balls. She spit on his cock and started aggressively jerking him off.

Looking up at him, she said “You like that? You like it when I take your cock down my throat? When I swallow the whole fucking thing?”

Henry nodded, afraid of what his voice would sound like if he tried to talk. But Jenny was having none of that. She knew she wanted, and she was going to get it.

“Say it,” Jenny said, the evil little glint in her eye more prominent than ever. “I want to hear you say it.”

Henry wasn’t sure when she’d flipped from a relatively normal girl to a dirty-talking slut, but it was freaking him out a little bit. He’d had his fair share of sex over the years, but nothing like this. Not even close. It was disturbing. Not disturbing enough to actually try and stop the proceedings, but disturbing nonetheless.

“I love it,” he said.

“Say it like you mean it,” Jenny snapped.

“I love it,” Henry said, more forcefully this time.

“Damn right you do,” Jenny shot back, her hand still working his cock, her eyes still locked on his. “You want me to deepthroat you again, don’t you? You want me to swallow your cock, to stick it down my throat as far as it will go. Don’t you?”

Henry nodded without thinking.

“Say it,” she said again, more impatiently this time.

“Yes,” Henry replied.

“Tell me what you want,” Jenny said.

Henry was buzzing pretty hard from the Jack Daniels but not quite hard enough to completely get over his discomfort. So he reached for the bottle and took another swig from it. Even though he knew it wouldn’t effect him immediately, just the idea that in a few more minutes he’d be drunk enough to no longer care what came out of his mouth gave him enough courage to say the words.

“I want you to deepthroat me,” he said. But apparently it wasn’t forceful enough for Jenny.

“Not very convincing,” she said.

Henry took another swig of Jack. “I want you to take my fucking cock all the way down your throat.”

“Close,” she said, the psychotic look in her eyes now having spread to the corner of her mouth. “One more time and I might actually believe you.”

Fuck it, Henry thought. No reason to hold back now.

One more swig of Jack, then, “Choke on my cock you fucking slut.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Jenny said, smiling like a demon.

She slapped his cock against her face a couple of times then went back to blowing him, her lips moving up and down his shaft in time with her hand, sucking and jerking in unison with each other, choking noises coming from her mouth as she took his cock deeper and deeper down her throat. And then her hands were again gripping his ass cheeks and his cock had again completely disappeared.

“Ho-ly shit,” Henry said as Jenny held his cock in her throat for what felt like an eternity.

Her tongue flicked out and licked his balls and her eyes started to leak tears, causing her mascara to run. She gagged once, then twice, before finally pulling off his cock.

Jenny took a couple of deep, coughing breaths then spit on his cock and started jerking it some more. Copious amounts of saliva covered Henry’s cock, making it slippery as hell.

She shifted positions, sliding her body further beneath his, until he was practically straddling her face. She held his cock against his stomach with one hand while cupping his sack with her other, trapping them in a tight, little pouch. She then proceeded to go to work on his balls, licking, sucking, gargling them, one, then the other, and finally both together.

The pressure was practically unbearable. Henry’s legs were jelly, forcing him to grab ahold of the counter top with both hands to keep from crumbling to the ground.

And then, right when Henry thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Jenny was climbing to her feet. She put her hands on the counter and bent over at the waist, her legs perfectly straight, muscles taut, her tight little ass sticking out towards him, taunting Henry with its perfection. She reached back and lifted the bottom of her dress up, revealing a black g-string, which she promptly wiggled out of. As Henry watched, transfixed, it dropped to the floor. Jenny stepped out of it, her heels clicking on the hard kitchen tiles.

“Well?” she said, her head turned to look back at him. “What are you waiting for? Time to return the favor.”

Smiling, Henry sat on the floor, grabbed one of Jenny’s ass cheeks in each hand, spread them apart, and buried his face in between them.

“That’s right,” she said, pushing back against him and wiggling her ass. “Get in there. Bury your face in my pussy.”

Henry went to work on Jenny’s pussy, lapping at it like a cat drinking milk, running his tongue up and down her snatch, sucking on her pussy lips, sticking his rigid tongue inside her. She started to ride his tongue, lightly at first but then picking up more speed, her moans growing louder with every bounce.

Reaching back, Jenny grabbed a handful of Henry’s hair and pulled his face deeper into her, practically smothering him, forcing him to breath her into his lungs. He did so with pleasure, relishing in the helplessness, getting lost with desire as her wet, musky sweetness intoxicated him further.

Then she was pulling his hair, lifting him up from the ground.

“I need you inside me,” she said, looking back at Henry while she rubbed her ass against his rock-hard cock. “I need you to stick that fucking cock inside me and fuck me like I deserve to be fucked.”

Wasting no time, Henry did as he was told, his cock sliding into Jenny’s soaking wet pussy with no resistance whatsoever. The moment he got it inside she slammed her ass back into him, causing him to lose his balance and nearly knocking him off his feet.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” he said, grabbing her around the hips and leaning forward to better balance himself against her thrusts.

“You’re damn right,” Jenny said, pushing against the counter with her hands to provide more leverage. “Now shut up and fuck me like you mean it.”

She slammed back into Henry again, but this time he was prepared for it, and drove his cock into her at the same time.

“There you go,” she said, slamming back into him again. “There’s some hope for you after all.”

Laughing softly, not used to having his sexual prowess questioned and not really liking it, Henry decided to take more control of the situation. If Jenny wanted it hard, he’d give her all she could handle.

He grabbed the back of her shoulders, pulling her back towards him with every thrust. It took them a few pumps to get their timing down, but pretty soon their bodies were pounding together in a mass of frenzied flesh, Jenny’s upper half bent over the counter, her ass slamming repeatedly back against Henry’s hips, her hair flying everywhere, Henry’s cock going in and out of her pussy in long, aggressive strokes. Grunts of exertion came from both their mouths, filling the empty apartment with the sounds of raw, animalistic sex.

“Fuck yeah,” Jenny said. “That’s what I need. Fuck me, baby. Fuck me like the dirty little slut I am. Slam that cock into my pussy. Punish me. Make me pay!”

She threw her right leg up on the counter, opening herself up even more to him. And Henry took advantage, shifting his body to give her every inch of his cock. His left hand drifted up and grabbed ahold of her hair and yanked her head back, eliciting a sharp yelp from her throat as she arched her back to alleviate the pressure.

“You like that?” Henry said, the effects of the alcohol combining with the oblivion of sex to completely obliterate his inhibitions. “You like it when I pull your hair?”

“I love it,” Jenny moaned, her voice a guttural growl.

Henry spanked her ass. “What about that?” he asked, still fucking her like a madman all the while. “You like that too?”


He spanked it again, harder this time. “What? I can’t hear you.”

“Yes!” she screamed.

He spanked her ass again, even harder this time. It sounded like a gunshot in the small kitchen. Slap!

“Louder,” he said.





“YES!” Jenny screamed, her voice quivering. “I FUCKING LOVE IT! DON’T STOP, DON’T FUCKING STOP!”

Henry spanked her ass a couple more times then wrapped one arm around her upper body and grabbed her opposite shoulder and pulled her closer in to him, until their heads were just inches apart. With his opposite hand he reached out and grabbed her breast and squeezed, eliciting another gasp from Jenny. Grunting with exertion, he continued fucking her with everything he had, grinding up against her ass, pummeling her mercilessly as she screamed for more until he no longer had anything left.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Henry said, pulling his cock out of her pussy at the last possible moment and squirting his seed all over Jenny’s ass. Gasping for breath, he leaned back against the counter behind him.

Jenny grabbed a hand towel and wiped his sperm off her ass. “What a waste of good cum,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “Next time give me a heads-up before you’re going to do that. We’ll find a better place for it.”

“Next time?” Henry said, too tired to mask his surprise.

“Of course,” Jenny said. “It’s not even midnight yet. We’ve still got half the night to play around. Unless you’ve had enough?”

“Hell no,” Henry said.

“Are you sure? Because I can—”

“You can just stop right there,” he said. “No way I’m going to pass up the chance to fuck you again.”

“Is that right?” Jenny said, flashing him a nasty little grin.

“That’s right,” Henry said, grinning right back at her.

“Then let’s go,” she said, grabbing his hand and starting to lead him out of the kitchen. “Oh, and don’t forget the Jack. A few more shots and things are apt to get real kinky.”

Henry reached back and snatched the bottle off the counter. He didn’t want to miss out on the chance of things getting kinkier. No way, no how. He only hoped that in the morning he’d be able to remember everything. Somehow he thought he would, no matter how drunk he got. Some nights you just can’t forget. And he was pretty certain this New Year’s Eve was going to be one of them.




Hank Griffen was embarrassed. He didn’t know what to do. A couple hours ago he’d called a number given to him by a friend, and now, at eight o’clock in the evening, he was standing in a hotel room next to a gorgeous cougar wearing high heels and a little purple dress that left very little to the imagination.

She’d said her name was Layla and she was a tall, stunning brunette with an incredible body; rock hard from head to toe, tan skin, long, shapely legs, toned arms, and enormous tits.

Layla was a little older than Hank had been expecting, probably in her early-thirties, a good 8-10 years older than him. Not that he minded. In fact, an older woman was exactly what he needed right now. Someone to take charge, to show him the ropes. That was what this whole night was about anyhow.

“Is this the first time you’ve done something like this?” Layla asked.

Hank nodded. Then he realized that she might not have been asking what he’d thought she was. “Not my first time having sex,” he added hastily, “Just my first time with a—”

“Escort?” Layla asked.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“And that makes you uncomfortable?”

“A little bit.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” she said. “Just pretend like you picked me up in a bar or something. You’ve done that before, right?”

“Not exactly,” he said.

“What about a party or a concert, something like that? Have you ever gone home with a woman after a night on the town?”

Hank shook his head.

Layla offered him a little smile laced with pity. “How many times have you had sex?”

He shrugged. “Fifteen, twenty times maybe. Something like that.”

“Let me guess,” Layla said. “All with the same girl?”


“Your girlfriend, I assume?”

“My ex-girlfriend,” Hank said.

“Gotcha,” Layla said. “And what kind of sex are we talking about here?”

“Just the basics,” he said.

“What does that mean to you exactly? I’m guessing your idea of the basics is far different from mine.”

Hank shrugged again. “I don’t know. Missionary, mostly,” he said, his tone reflecting his discomfort at talking openly about his sex life, or lack thereof.

“What about blow jobs?” Layla asked.

“Not really,” he said, blushing just a hair. “Once or twice, and only for a short time. Thirty seconds each, maybe.”

“Did you give you hand jobs? Jerk you off?”

“Sometimes,” Hank said.

“Did you ever give her anal sex?”

His face turned bright red from embarrassment. “No. She said didn’t like it.”

“What about your fingers?” Layla asked. “Did you ever use them on her? Play with her pussy, rub her clit, anything like that?”

“A few times,” he said. “Just to get her warmed up.”

Layla laughed under her breath and shook her head.

“What?” Hank said.

“Nothing,” she replied. “I just feel bad for you, that’s all.”


“Because your girlfriend was such a prude,” Layla said. “Okay, so a few more questions and then we can get started.”

“Okay,” Hank said.

“What about porn?” she asked.

“What about it?”

“Do you ever watch it?”

Hank shrugged. “Occasionally,” he said, his embarrassment growing even further. He looked down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes.

“Hardcore stuff?” Layla asked.

His eyes flashed up in annoyance. “What difference does it make?”

“I’m just trying to get a feel for how much you know, what you’re aware of, so I don’t make you uncomfortable,” she said. “I want you to have a good time, you know. That’s kind of my job description.”

“Assume I don’t know anything at all,” he said. “Because I feel like I don’t.”

“Fair enough,” Layla said. She took a couple steps towards Hank until she was standing right in front of him, their bodies practically touching. “So here’s what we’ll do. Imagine that ten minutes ago, we were at a bar. You were standing there, having a drink, when I came up to you.”

Her voice changed, grew infinitely more sexy, soft and throaty. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear: “You’re fucking gorgeous. I’d love to take you back to my hotel room and ravish you.”

Hank took a deep breath. He tried to swallow but his throat was suddenly dry. He knew Layla was just playing a role, but she was so convincing that it didn’t matter. Even though he knew better, on some level he thought her words actually reflected her feelings.

“Just follow my lead,” Layla said, still whispering seductively, her tone dripping need and desire. “I’ll take care of you, big boy. I’ll take you places you’ve never been before.”  

 “Okay,” Hank managed to squeak out, his entire body tingling with excitement as she took his hand and led him to the couch.

Once they reached the couch, Layla turned Hank around so his back was towards it, then give him a little push, dropping him onto the cushions. She spread his legs apart, stepped in between them, and pulled her dress over her head, revealing her huge, natural breasts in all their glory. The only thing left on her body was her black g-string and 3-inch fuck-me pumps.

Hank took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself. His cock was hard just from looking at her. It was pressing up against his jeans painfully.

Looking down at him, her face deadly serious, Layla grab ahold of her tits and started groping herself, rubbing her nipples and squeezing them to get them hard. She cupped her hand beneath one of her tits and brought it up towards her mouth and started sucking on the nipple.

“Do you like these tits?” Layla said.

Hank nodded. There was no way he could talk right now.

“Do you want to taste them?”

Hank nodded again.

Layla climbed onto the couch, straddling Hank’s groin. He sucked in his breath quickly and bit down on his bottom lip. Just the pressure of her ass on his dick was almost enough to make him cum.

“A little bit jumpy, huh?” Layla said.

“Yeah,” Hank said softly, barely more than a whisper.

“That’s okay. When you’re ready to cum just let it go. It doesn’t matter how soon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Layla said. “There’s nothing wrong with expending one bullet early. In fact, it’s a good thing.”

“How can that possibly be a good thing?” Hank asked.

“Because it takes a lot of pressure off,” she replied. “Which makes it easier to last longer the second time around.”

“There’s going to be a second time?”

“There’s going to be as many as you can handle,” Layla said. “You paid for a full hour and that’s what you’re going to get. You can cum as many times as you want.”

“Really?” Hank said.

“Really,” she said. “Now let’s get on with it. We’re wasting time here.”

Layla leaned forward and stuck her tits in Hank’s face. She shook her chest from side to side, bouncing her tits off his head a few times before guiding one of her nipples into his mouth.

Hank sucked on Layla’s hard nipple like a baby while she slowly moved her ass back and forth, grinding on his cock, which was still trapped beneath his jeans but pressing hard against the denim.

Layla switched things up, giving Hank her other nipple and grinding on his cock more forcefully. His breath rate increased immediately, as did the force in which he went after Layla’s nipple.

Despite Layla telling him not to worry about how long he lasted before cumming, Hank was holding on as best he could. He was just too used to being done after his first orgasm.

But Layla was having none of it. She could sense how far along Hank was and was determined to finish him off. She pulled her nipple from between his lips, then leaned in and stuck her tongue in his mouth and started to explore.

As Hank returned her kiss, Layla started riding his cock, moving her ass forward and back against it and bouncing up and down on it. His hands slipped down and grabbed her ass cheeks and held on for dear life as she rode him harder and harder, bringing him right to the point of explosion.

A soft gasping sound escape from Hank’s mouth and his body tensed up for just a moment then released, sending his sperm shooting out of his cock and creating a big wet spot on his jeans. His ejaculation was followed by an immediate sense of disappointment, which was plain on his face.

“What’s the matter?” Layla asked. She was still sitting on his lap but had stopped grinding on him after he came.

Hank shrugged. “I just feel, I don’t know, lame. Embarrassed.”

“For what? Cumming so quickly?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Layla said. “You did exactly what I told you to.”

“I know,” Hank said. “But still, it just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know if I’ll be able to even get it up again.”

“Don’t worry, that part won’t be a problem at all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me,” Layla said. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Fair enough.”

Layla leaned in and gave Hank a little kiss on the cheek then climbed off of him and dropped down to her knees on the floor, her body between his legs. She undid his belt, his top button, and his zipper, then pulled his jeans off, followed by his boxers.

Hank’s cock was no longer hard but it was still chubby. Layla grabbed a hold of it and slapped it against her cheek a couple of times then took it in her mouth.

Hank let out a shocked little gasp. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to happen next but he knew it wasn’t that. Much to his surprise he could feel his cock already growing harder as Layla blew him.

Layla worked his cock gently at first, sucking on the head while slowly working his shaft with her hand, staring up at him, her eyes locked on his entire time. As Hank’s cock got harder and harder, she gradually worked her lips further and further down his shaft until she was taking it halfway every time, her hand no longer in the mix.

Once Hank’s cock was back to the point it had been before cumming the first time—rock-hard and sticking straight up—Layla started mixing things up. She pulled her mouth off his cock and ran her tongue along the underside of it, licking it from his balls to the tip, maintaining eye contact all the while.

“See?” Layla said, smiling up at him. “I told you getting hard again wouldn’t be a problem.”

“You were right,” Hank said.

“I always am,” she said before going back to work on his cock, this time going after it with more intensity.

As Hank looked on with amazement, Layla took his whole cock in her mouth, bobbing her head up and down in fast, rhythmic pumps while her hand  massaged his balls.

After blowing Hank without pause for half a minute, Layla dropped her head down one last time, but instead of pulling back up she held it there, deepthroating him with ease.

She held his cock in her throat for at least 10 seconds before pulling her head back and letting it slide out of her mouth.

“Holy shit,” Hank said, laughing under his breath.

“You liked that, did you?”

“I fucking loved it.”

“Then you’re going to love this too,” she said.

Layla sat a little bit higher up, so her tits were practically touching Hank’s cock. She gathered up some saliva and spit it on his cock and worked it in with her hand, getting it all nice and slippery. Then she leaned forward and stuck his cock between her tits, squeezing them tight.

“Oh my God,” Hank moaned as she started bouncing on his cock. “That feels so fucking good.”

“I told you you’d like it,” Layla said, smiling up at him.

“And you were right again,” he said.

“Of course I was,” she said.

Layla titty-fucked him like she’d done it hundreds of times—which she undoubtedly had—constantly letting saliva drip from her mouth, keeping things slick enough that his cock glided perfectly along her skin.

Squeezing her tits tighter together, Layla bounced up and down with more and more speed, the bottom of her  tits smacking the top of his legs with a fleshy sound at the tail end of every thrust.

Hank watched, mesmerized as the tip of his cock poked out from behind her tits, practically touching the bottom of her chin, only to disappear again a half second later as she continued titty-fucking him.

Hank was shocked to feel another feel another orgasm coming on. He never even come twice in one day before, let alone within minutes of each other. He still had a little ways to go, but it wouldn’t be long at all before he got there.

As if able to read his mind, Layla released his cock from between her tits. But instead of giving him a chance to gather himself, she immediately popped the head of his cock into her mouth and started sucking on it while her hand worked his shaft.

It wasn’t long before she was taking his cock halfway down, her head bouncing up and down more quickly while her hand released the shaft of his cock and wandered down to play with his balls.

Looking up at Hank the whole time, Layla went after his cock with more urgency, making his cock completely disappear with every pump, her hair flying everywhere while wet, gagging sound escaped from her throat and her fingers gently caressed his balls.

Hank realized he was about to cum and tried to pull away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Layla asked, letting his cock slip out of her mouth and grabbing ahold of it with her hand.

“I’m trying to take a little break before I cum again,” Hank said.

“What’s wrong with cumming again?” Layla said, taking a moment to run her tongue up the underside of his cock before continuing. “Sometimes expending two bullets is better than one. Especially for someone as wound up as you are.”

“But I haven’t even got to fuck you yet,” Hank said.

“Don’t worry, there will be plenty of time for that,” Layla smacked his cock against her cheek a couple of times. “We’ve still got more than half an hour left.”

“But I’ll know if I’ll be able to get it up a third time.”

“You will,” Layla said. “I guarantee it. Now just sit back and relax and let me do my thing.”

She scooted her legs back, giving Hank a better view of her plump, round ass and dropping her head a little further down. Then she took his balls in her mouth and started to suck on them while her hand stroked his cock.

“Oh, all right,” Hank said, giving in to her demands. “If you insist.”

Layla played with his balls for a little while, licking and gurgling them, taking them both in her mouth and pulling down on his sack while she continued jerking him off, tightening his skin and increasing the sensitivity.

“Holy shit,” Hank said, his entire body on edge, his hands curled up into fists. “I don’t know how much more I can handle.”

Taking this as a cue, Layla released his balls with her mouth and went back to blowing him proper, her lips moving up and down on his cock while her hand followed, working his shaft in perfect harmony with her mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Hank said under his breath as he quickly climbed towards another orgasm. “I can’t believe I’m gonna fucking cum again!”

Layla continued blowing him, her eyes locked on his, her mouth engulfing his cock, making it disappear, the copious amounts of saliva allowing her to glide over his cock with just the right amount of pressure.

And then Hank was there, his body bucking beneath Layla as a bolt of electricity shot down his spine and his cock released it’s bounty for the second time that evening. It was shorter than the first time but more intense, almost painful.

Layla pulled her mouth of his cock at the last possible moment, her hand still jerking him off as he came, sending his milky white sperm shooting all over her tits and stomach.

As Hank wound down, Layla smacked his cock against her tits a couple times, laughing softly as he flinched. Then she took his cock in her mouth, sucking on the tip of it, drawing every last drop from it.

“Holy shit,” Hank said, flopping back onto the couch.

“That was good, huh?” Layla asked.

“Hell yes.”

“Better than the first time.”

Smiling, Hank nodded.

“Just wait until the next one,” Layla said.

“I don’t know if I can get it up again, let alone cum again.”

“I thought we already talked about that,” she said. “It won’t be a problem, trust me.”

“I don’t know . . .” Hank started.

“Have I let you down yet?” Layla asked.

“No, I guess you haven’t.”

“What makes you think I’m going to start now?”

“Good point,” Hank said.

Layla stood up and held out her hand. “Come on, get up.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Hank took Layla’s hand and allowed her to help him up. She led him into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“A little wake-up call,” she said, climbing in after it had warmed up. “Have you ever showered with a woman before?”

Hank shook his head.

“It’s all about the feel of things,” Layla said as the water poured over her. “Just touching the other person while they’re all wet. Their hair, their bodies, and especially their skin. Go ahead. Feel free.”

Hank rubbed his hands on her skin, starting with her shoulders and moving down her arms. The water made her skin exponentially smoother, almost like oil. He rubbed her tits, her belly, her thighs. She returned the favor, running her hands through his wet hair, over his chest, down to his asscheeks.

“It doesn’t have to be overtly sexual,” Layla said, turning around, giving him her back. “Just think of it as foreplay. Getting yourself warmed up for round three.”

Hank ran his hands down her back, over her hips. He grabbed her round ass and gave it a squeeze. Layla moaned softly. His breath growing more rapid and his cock—to his everlasting amazement—already showing signs of life, he squeezed them a little more firmly.

It wasn’t long before Hank was pressing his body up against Layla, his chest against her back, his cock pushing up against her ass while his hands explored her incredible tits, rubbing and groping them and tweaking her nipples.

“See?” Layla whispered, turning her head to the side. “I told you it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“And you were right,” Hank said, his cock rock-hard for the third time in less than an hour. “Again.”

“And now, when you fuck me proper, you’ll last even longer because you’ve already expended two bullets.”

“I don’t know how long I’ll last,” Hank said. “You’ve got me all riled up.”

“Well, it’ll be longer than you would have otherwise,” Layla said, offering him a wicked smile.

Hank had no doubt she was right. He wouldn’t have lasted more than five seconds inside her to start the evening. Now he might actually be able to last a minute or two. If he was lucky. But it was still better than the alternative.

“Speaking of which,” Layla said, shutting off the water. “Let’s get started.”

She grabbed his hand and led him out of the shower. After they quickly dried themselves off, Layla took Hank by the cock and led him over to the bed.

“I’m not going to waste any more of your erection sucking your cock,” she said as she dropped onto the bed. She was lying on her back, her legs spread open, her pussy staring Hank right in the face as he stood there, dumbfounded, just looking at her.

Layla slipped two fingers inside her pussy and started playing around in there, getting herself nice and wet. “I want you to come over here and stick that hard cock of yours in my soaking wet pussy and fuck me until you can’t take it anymore,” she said. “And then I want you to cum inside me. Can you handle that?”

Unable to speak, Hank just nodded.

“Then come on over here,” Layla said, beckoning him over.

Hank didn’t need to be told twice. He climbed onto the bed and slid his body up until he was between Layla’s legs. Unable to resist her any longer, he grabbed ahold of his cock and slid it into her pussy.

Entering Layla was like slipping into a pool of exotic oil. Moist and slippery and warm, her pussy swallowed his cock utterly and completely, caressing it like a long-lost soul mate.

Hank’s breath rate quickened as he moved against her, his cock sliding deeper and deeper into her pussy of it’s own accord, his thrusts moving faster and faster as his body started operating solely on instinct.

“Just like that,” Layla said, her voice soft and serious, her eyes locked on his. “You feel so fucking good inside of me.”

She wrapped her arms around the back of Hank’s neck and pulled his head down towards hers. While he continued moving against her, Layla pressed her lips against his and started exploring his mouth with her tongue.

Kissing Layla while fucking her took Hank’s excitement to a whole different level. He wasn’t sure exactly why but there was no denying it. It was extremely sensual, almost unbearably so.

As if able to read Hank’s mind, Layla released her hold on him. He lifted his head up, breaking their kiss and allowing himself to gain a little bit of control once again, hopefully putting off his impending orgasm for at least a little while longer.

Layla was moving her body against Hank’s now, pushing her hips forward as his drove down, forcing his cock deeper inside her pussy. They had reached a good rhythm, their bodies moving in time with each other like they’d done this a hundred times before.

Hank closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on something else, but it was impossible. Layla simply felt too good. She demanded all his attention. He was torn between wanting to cum and wanting to make things last longer. But in the end, nature won. It was in his DNA to expel his seed, and despite his desire to hold out as long as possible, he was right on the verge of finishing.

Layla must have seen it in his face, as she nodded her head, her eyes locked on his. “Cum inside me,” she said, her voice an alluring combination of sweetness and desire. “I want to feel your warmth spreading inside me.”

Hearing her talk like that was the final straw. Hank slammed his cock into her a couple more times, giving it to her harder than he had all night, and then his body tensed for a couple nearly unbearable seconds before releasing in a rush, sending his sperm shooting out of his cock and into Layla’s wet warmth.

“Holy fucking shit,” Hank said as he spasmed against her, his body shaking as he expelled his essence for the third time in less than an hour. The orgasm was less intense than the other two, yet somehow better, more meaningful, perhaps because it had come while actually having intercourse.

Once Hank’s cock was completely drained, he laughed softly and shook his head before letting his cock slip out of Layla’s pussy for the final time. He rolled off her and dropped down to the bed, lying on his back next to her, his breath quick and ragged.

“So?” Layla asked, turning to look at him. “Did you have a good time?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Hank said. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum three times in a week, let alone an hour.”

“That’s no easy feat,” she said. “Let me tell you.”

“Sorry they were all so quick.”

“Don’t be,” Layla said. “It doesn’t really matter how long you last if you can go multiple times. Of course, if you want to really please a girl, you’ll have to learn a few new tricks.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” Hank replied. “The biggest problem is just getting the opportunity.”

“That’s the easy part,” she said. “Opportunity is never more than a phone call away. Assuming you can afford the charges, of course. Which aren’t really all that much, actually, considering the lack of auxiliary expenses.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Think about how much it costs for dinner and a movie these days,” Layla said. “Plus a couple drinks at the bar. For what? A chance at maybe getting in the sack with someone? For pretty much the same price you can get a guaranteed result. And with someone who knows what they’re doing on top of that.”

Hank laughed. “That’s true,” he said. “I’ve never really thought of it that way before. So you wouldn’t mind if I gave you another call sometime?”

“Not at all,” she said. “In fact, I’m already looking forward to it.”

“So am I,” Hank said, feeling good about himself for the first time in as long as he could remember. “So am I.”





It was almost 8PM on February 14th when there was a knock on Henry Smith’s door. He was on his couch, eating pizza and watching BOOGIE NIGHTS, just as he had every year for the last five years on Valentine’s Day.

He wasn’t expecting anyone; Henry rarely had visitors and they never came over unannounced. He just wasn’t that kind of kind guy and neither were any of his friends.

He wondered who it was. A neighbor, maybe, looking to borrow some eggs? Or someone with the wrong condo? Either way he wasn’t real interested in answering the door. He’d rather just stay here on the couch and pretend like he wasn’t home.

Then the knocking started again, more insistently this time, like the person on the other side of the door knew he was home. After another moment of hesitation Henry decided to be civil and see who was there. He paused the movie, climbed up off the couch and headed over to the door.

He opened it without bothering to look through the peephole, and standing there, much to his surprise (which he was careful to keep off his face) was Jenny Stevenson. She was dressed in a sleeveless white tee shirt that covered her legs nearly down to her knees. But not even the loose-fitting clothes could mask her rocking body; she could make painter’s overalls look good. And the lack of a bra didn’t hurt her cause either. Her long black hair was mussed and she was wearing very little makeup, both of which suited her just fine.

“Hey there,” she said.

“What’s up?” Henry said, playing it cool despite the butterflies in his stomach. They hadn’t done more than briefly exchange pleasantries since their crazy New Year’s Eve and he’d convinced himself that it had been just a one-night stand, never to be repeated again. Now he wasn’t so sure. But he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions and he certainly didn’t allow his hopes to get too high.

“Not much,” Jenny replied. “I was just hanging out by myself tonight and figured you would be too, you know, based on your aversion to holidays.”

“Well, you guessed right.”

“So . . . are you going to invite me in?”

“Sure,” he said. “Come on in.”

Henry held the door open and Jenny walked past him. He watched her as he closed the door, slightly saddened to see that her ass was covered up by the T-shirt. At least her shapely legs were a nice consolation prize. She sat down on the lounge chair and folded her legs beneath her, revealing nothing but panties beneath her T-shirt.

“You want something to drink?” he asked. “A beer? Some wine?”

“No thanks,” she said. “I want to see how things go when we’re sober.”

Before Henry had a chance to contemplate the meaning of this, Jenny had moved on.

 “Boogie Nights, huh?” she said, glancing towards the television. “Are you a P.T. Anderson fan?”


“Me too. You ever see There Will Be Blood?”

“Only ten times,” Henry said as he sat down on the couch across from her. “It’s one of my 2 favorite movies of all-time.”

“And the other one?”

“No Country For Old Men.”

“Ahh, the Coen Brothers. Good stuff, good stuff. I had no idea you had such good taste in movies. I should have known, though. You have good taste in everything.”

Henry laughed softly. “Like you’d know.”

“I know you have good taste in music,” Jenny said.

“How do you know that?”

“You were listening to The Mars Volta on New Year’s Eve.”

“You remember that?”

She tilted her head and flashed him a little smirk. “I remember everything about that night.”


“Everything,” she said, raising her eyebrows a couple of times.

Henry wasn’t sure what to make of this but he supposed it was a good thing. After all, if she had remembered everything and was coming back for more, that certainly couldn’t be bad.

“But, back to your tastes,” she said. “We’ve got movies and music out the way—two of the most important ones, the way I see it—but it doesn’t stop there. I can see you have good taste in pizza. Round Table is my favorite. You have good taste in beer. Blue Moon on New Years. And wine too; I can see Silver Oak in your kitchen. And you certainly have good taste in women.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Henry said, laughing softly. “I’ve had some pretty shitty relationships in the past.”

“I’m not talking about your past relationships. I’m talking about your present one.”

“With who?”

“Who do you think?” Jenny said.


“No, the other girl in your living room.”

“You call fucking two months ago and then not talking to each until right now a relationship?”

“According to the strict definition, yes,” Jenny said. “Of course, it’s not a traditional relationship, but I was led to believe you weren’t a traditional type of guy.”

“Fair enough,” Henry said. “So what kind of a relationship is it?”

“The best kind,” she replied. “One where neither party has any commitment to the other. One where there’s no emotions involved, no messiness, no stupid shit. One that entails getting together every once in a while and fucking our brains out in crazy, filthy, animalistic ways, sometimes drunk, sometimes sober, sometimes high, depending on the day.”

Henry looked at her for a moment. He had to admit, it sounded like the perfect setup. He certainly didn’t have any desire to be in a “normal” relationship; he just didn’t think he’d ever find himself in one like Jenny was spelling out.

“And that’s the kind of relationship you’re looking for?” he asked.

“I’m sure as hell not looking for love,” Jenny said. “Are you?”

“Not at all.”

“Then what do you say? Do you think you can handle just having meaningless, casual, incredibly nasty sex with me on a semi-regular basis without any threat of a deep emotional connection?”

Henry pretended to think about it for a moment. “I think I could probably handle something like that.”

Smiling, Jenny climbed up off the chair and started towards him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said, looking up at her as she stopped right in front of him.

“Good,” Jenny said. “Because I’m horny as hell.” She dropped to her knees and pushed his legs open and leaned in towards him and started undoing the button on his pants. Looking up at him with mock-innocence from down between his legs, she said, “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” Henry said, lifting his butt up off the couch so she could slip the pants off his legs. His dick was already starting to get hard. It wasn’t quite standing at attention yet but it was getting there.

“Now that’s the Henry Stevenson I remember from New Year’s Eve,” Jenny said, taking Henry’s cock in her hand and stroking it. “Such a nice big cock. Do you still remember what to do with it?”

“Oh, I think I can figure it out.”

Jenny laughed. “I’m sure you can.” She wrapped her lips around his cock and took it halfway down before popping it back out again. “With something this beautiful, I’m sure you’ve had lots of practice.”

 She went back to work on his cock, mixing it up like a pro, sucking on the tip while jerking him off, playing with his balls, and taking it nearly all the way down her throat while maintaining eye contact the entire time. It was an incredibly sloppy blowjob, with tons of spit; Jenny obviously knew what she was doing down there.

After a couple minutes of blowing him, Jenny leaned back and pulled her shirt off, revealing her perfect, perky tits. She took his cock and pressed it up against her chest, between her breasts, and proceeding to bounce on it, the saliva leftover from her blow job acting as a lubricant. Not quite a titty-fuck but it had the same effect. She was totally into it, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, her eyes locked directly on his.

Henry wasn’t sure if it was the look of pure intensity Jenny was giving him or simply the physical sensation of what she was doing to him, but it was getting him way too excited for his own good. He needed to find a way to give himself a little break.

He grabbed ahold of her hair and lifted her head up off his cock, leaned forward, and locked his mouth onto hers. She enthusiastically kissed him back, and soon they were exploring each other’s mouths with sloppy intensity.

Henry grabbed ahold of Jenny’s left breast and gave it a squeeze, then ran his hand down her flat stomach and started rubbing her pussy through her panties.

He marveled at how quickly Jenny’s panties soaked through. Ten seconds, maybe less, and they were completely drenched. It was becoming readily apparent to him that this girl truly was a freak. A sex machine. And for some reason she had chosen him to be her little playmate. He decided that he had to do everything in his power to make her happy. Pull out all the stops. Make sure he satisfied her enough to keep her coming back.

Henry grabbed her by the legs, picked her up, spun her around, and dropped her on the couch, facing him. He then dropped to his knees, slipped her panties off, spread her legs, and started eating her pussy. Jenny let out a surprised little squeal which quickly turned into a giggle and then into a moan of pleasure as Henry started going at it more aggressively.

He grabbed her legs and threw them back towards her, lifting her hips up a bit to give himself a little more leverage. Jenny, experienced slut that she was, hooked her arms around the back of her knees, holding them in place up by her head.

Henry started off slowly, licking around the outside of her pussy lips, teasing her, tempting her, taunting her. After getting her nice and wet he started in on the pussy proper, lapping at her inner sweetness by running his tongue up and down the length of her snatch, penetrating it only slightly at first, then more deeply, flicking his tongue in and out, back and forth, licking and sucking and burying his face inside her, constantly moving, mixing things up, keeping her on her toes.

Every once in a while he’d venture a glance up the length of her perfect body to see her face in various stages of enjoyment; sometimes eyes closed, sometimes head thrown back, sometimes squeezing or sucking her own nipples. One time he even noticed her right hand was around her throat and her face was red from choking herself.

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