42 Filthy Fucking Stories (24 page)

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Authors: Lexi Maxxwell

Tags: #Erotic Fiction, #Short Stories (Single Author), #Oral Sex, #Mothers' Day, #Romance

BOOK: 42 Filthy Fucking Stories
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I imagined raking my fingernails across his shoulders, hearing him groan as he jammed his thick cock inside me, over and over, harder and faster with every thrust.
 

In my mind, we were backed against a centuries old stone wall, where he’d lifted my leg and set it over his shoulder. Still standing, he plunged himself inside me – meeting little resistance after my virgin pussy was loosened from several hours of anticipation.

Mick’s lips trailed fire down my throat and onto my breasts, then he ripped off my shirt and cupped my tits, using his lips and tongue, tugging at my nipples until I thought I would cum.

I couldn’t help but think that “my cunt was on fire,” even though I had never said the word out loud and it made me feel dirty to think it. But it also made me feel hot, just like I felt when reading my Kindle. Those writers used words like that all the time, and as much as I might agree with my friends when they said how much they hated “The C Word,” I don’t think I’d remained dry even once after reading it.
 

I was lost in my head, swimming below the surface of my fantasy, when I bumped into Mick on the trail. His back muscles pushed against my chest, wobbling my knees with desire.
 

I wanted to spin him around and plaster myself on his body. I wanted to get nasty, and suck on his dick until he came in my mouth. Then I wanted to get him hard again, so he could fuck me without stopping.
 

I’d swallowed cum a few times before. It was easier to get a guy off and send him home, than it was to have a conversation about being a virgin. The best way to control any situation with a guy was to suck their dick and swallow the load. My best friend Amy swore up, down and sideways that if you wanted a guy to really rail you right, you should suck him off, swallow his cum, tell him “thank you,” then make him hard again. Amy said that would even get a gay guy to fuck you seven ways to Sunday.

Mick put his hands on my arms and asked if I was okay. I said I was “yes”, then he smiled and turned back toward the trail, taking one giant step before landing knee deep in a mud puddle.

I clutched onto his leg, and then tried to pull him out by his shirt, but I wasn’t nearly strong enough, and we both ended up even sweatier than before, covered with smelly globs of thick jungle mud. Men must get turned on by things you could never explain in a lab, because just as I was feeling filthier than the floor of a movie theater, and thinking there wouldn’t be a chance in hell of getting Mick inside my fiery hole without a nice, hot shower, he turned to face me, then leaned in close and kissed me full on the mouth.

My body flooded with a rush of adrenaline as I kissed him back, my tongue darting into his open, hungry mouth with the same intensity I imagined flying from the thrust of his cock. He matched my tongue thrusts, sucking on my bottom lip and lapping his wet tongue against the hungry pant of my open mouth.

I wanted Mick to fuck me right there.
 
I didn’t want to wait, but I had 23 years of waiting and a scientist’s mind working against me, stupidly analyzing the situation. I took a step back, then panicked, wondering if he would get turned off by my sudden retreat.

I stepped forward and pulled him toward me, then with my hand shaking, freed his dick from the cell of his cotton khakis.
 

Mick’s cock stood fat and pulsing, begging for me to do something, anything; jack it back and forth, put it in my mouth, bend over and pull my panties down so he could shove it into my tight and tiny pussy.
 

I looked up at Mick. He whimpered.

Without speaking, I dropped to my knees, and kissed the tip of his 10 inch cock, wrapping my lips around his bulbous head, which looked the size of a small tangerine but tasted so much sweeter, if you like a salty man. Which at the moment, on my knees in a Mexican jungle, I sure as fuck did.
 

Mick clutched the top of my head and leaned backwards, groaning deep and guttural, animal enough to belong in the jungle. Mick found sturdy support from a thick jungle vine, warping his fingers into the vine so it held his weight. I looked up at him, smiling, as I pleased both him and myself, feasting on the banquet before me,
 

I stretched my lips to accommodate his swollen cock, then leaning forward tried a few tentative movements up and down, supporting his balls with one hand, wrapping around the base of his cock with the other.
 

The movement was making my pussy impossibly hot and spilled bucket of water wet. It was all I could do to keep going. Most of me wanted to beg Mick to fuck me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep jacking, or hurry up and get his dick inside me. I was so turned on, getting off on his groans which had suddenly turned to growls, that I didn’t want to stop. I figured he could always fuck me later. For a few seconds I considered not stopping at all, imagining myself pumping his dick until it erupted with cum, spraying my face and then dripping down my chin.
 

That thought only lasted a moment. I wanted Mick’s dick inside me too much to ignore the inferno between my legs. I slowed my jacking, and let Mick catch his breath before standing back up.
 

I was so hot I felt like my cunt was steaming. “I want you to fuck me,” I whimpered. “Would you like that?”

“There’s nothing in the world I want more!”

He growled, then grabbed me roughly by the wrist, pulling me into a small clearing in the jungle, just off the path. He pulled a blanket from his pack, laid it on the jungle floor, then lowered me to my back. After unwrapping me like a present, he shucked off his shorts, ripped off his shirt and lay beside me, in the opposite direction.
 

He looked up and smiled. I smiled back, even though I wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do.
 

Mick caressed my mound. Leaning down, he kissed me first on my lower lips, then smiling, moved inwards, fucking me gently with his tongue.
 

He increased his pressure, and I could feel myself opening wide for him.
 

I came almost instantly, and of course, immediately wanted more.

I was screaming and shaking and writhing, arching my back on the blanket, losing all control as I shrieked like an animal in the middle of the jungle.
 

Mick waited a moment for me to calm myself, then placing his hands under my thighs, brought me to his mouth again. I didn’t know he had been holding back the first time, until I felt the pressure during the second.
 

My skin rippled with my third and fourth climax. When I was done shaking, Mick let me rest for a couple of minutes longer.
 

I didn’t want to stop, but Mick made me.
 

I lay on my back, studying the jungle canopy overhead, trying to determine the species of tree which had small orchid-like flowers that looked like penises. Minutes from getting deflowered, I wondered if I would ever be able to see anything again without thinking of dicks and pussies and cum and sex.
 

Probably not.

And that would work for me.

Mick moved around, kneeling above me and looking into my eyes. His massive dick hung like a small tree trunk. Supporting himself with his arms, he arched over me and smiled, then placed his cock at the entrance to my slippery hole, waiting for my muscles to adjust around the thick head.
 

Mick smiled at me, and I smiled back. He took my cue and gradually slid himself inside me, until he was all the way to the hilt. He paused again as I felt my muscles contract around his shockingly fat cock. I was surprised by his heat, mingling with my own, and felt a shiver which started at my shoulders and fluttered all the way down to my ass.
 

God! This is what I have been missing all these years.
 

Why had I waited?
 

I climaxed immediately, even before Mick started moving inside of me. When he finally did, my muscles grabbed onto his cock and felt like they’d never let go.
 

Not that I wanted them to.
 

Mick moved back and forth inside me, increasing his pace – ramming me harder and faster and deeper with each thrust. He withdrew a few inches, but I splayed my fingers onto his ass, pulling him toward me, wanting the feeling to never end.

He grinned as I locked my legs around him and tightened my grip, then rammed into me like his body was trying to pound a nail into a wall. His cock still felt like a small tree even though he was now sloshing in and out of me like a fist in a bucket of water.
 

Mick was groaning like a dying animal, increasing my inner heat with every plunge of his body. He pulled my leg up with one large hand then entered me from an angle that God must’ve told him to use.
 

I screamed loud enough to make every animal in the forest flee, then Mick met my scream with a savage groan. His body started to rattle as his groans faded to whimpers. He stopped shaking as his cum leaked down my thigh, then dripped onto the jungle floor.

I lay there spent. I wasn’t sad at the loss of my virginity, just eagerly looking forward to everything that was yet to come. I knew we would have many more times on that trip alone. Night was yet to fall, but I could easily imagine the tiki torch lit before our tent, throwing shadows across our final goodnight fuck, surrounded by the jungle air and billions of insects.
 

It was the perfect fantasy.

XX

I sat in my closet-sized apartment, glancing out the window while trying to catch any hint of breeze which might grace the middle of the smoggy summer city day, feet propped up on an ottoman and reading my latest eBook –
Jungle Dreams
.
 

I pulled my fingers from my soaking wet pussy, then stared out the window at the concrete jungle outside.
 

Someday, I told myself rubbing my palm over my swollen mound – inflaming my already active imagination – someday I’ll lose it for real.
 

XXX

Call of Booty: Modern Whorefare
 

“I’m telling ya, this fool's insane!” Bo shouted at their table in McDonald’s. He and a couple of his teammates had taken a well-deserved break to get some fuel before their late afternoon ladder match.

“You’re just pissed because you get your ass handed to you every single time,” Jim laughed, pointing his finger at Bo’s reddening face.

“Fuck you,” Bo spat, flicking a ketchup-covered fry at his friend.

Bo boiled inside as he chewed on his food. For the last six months, his online gaming life had turned into a living hell. He and his friends called themselves the Dead Cowboys – an “elite” combat squad for an online first person shooter. They were good, great even, ranked in the top 10 teams of their ladder. But that was six months back, and now they were treading at the bottom rung of the Top 20.

Just after the last live ladder tournament, Bo started getting stalked by another player called FkuNowHaHa. It seemed like FNH, as his teammates referred to him, popped up everywhere and killed only Bo. After a match with FNH’s team, Bo’s killed stats were always equal to FNH’s kills. Bo went as far as starting a new player profile, but somehow FNH always found him.

It was now beyond annoying. Bo knew nothing of this person, yet they somehow seemed like a hired gun. At least half of the teams he faced had FNH as a sub. It was wearing thin, on both him and his teammates. More than once they thought about subbing Bo, but as the founding member of DC they knew it would be wrong.

From the outside looking in, the situation was almost comic. It was a stinking video game and Bo knew it. He’d always taken it lightly. While most players ate, slept, and dreamed the game, Bo wasn't nearly that fanatical. If he were, he'd probably be their league's number one player, but he'd seen the sort of mess being a video game addict could get you into.

No, he'd never let himself reach that point. But Jesus, all he wanted was to get one goddamn kill on FNH. Then he'd be more than happy to retire his controller for good. Maybe he'd get that kill this afternoon, though it wasn't likely – FNH hadn't been around all week, which at least meant Bo and his boys could climb the ladder.

A win tonight meant they'd be in the quarter finals for the tournament, and Bo was somewhat optimistic that would actually happen.
 

Two hours later Bo was, with controller in hand and headset ready, sitting on his couch with a tall glass of iced Diet Pepsi.
 

“Everyone ready?” Bo said into his headset. Everyone on his team was tethered to their high-speed Internet.

They sounded off one-by-one as Bo queued the Dead Cowboys into the ladder match. After the map loaded, each team was given time to spread out in their starting area before the match started. Bo scrolled through their opponent's team roster, a habit since FNH started showing up.

“Fuck,” Bo whispered.

“Yeah, I saw,” one of the guys said.

Bo shook his head and furrowed his brow, glaring at the name FkuNowHaHa
 
glowing ominously across the enemy roster. No matter. They would win and move on.
 

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