DeansList (3 page)

Her huff of laughter was intimate and sexy. If he’d had any
cum left in his balls it would’ve spilled at the sound. Becky the sex kitten
was nearly more than he could handle. “That’s a surprise,” she said as she
propped herself up to look down at him.

Dean couldn’t help himself from looking her over. At some
point he’d pulled her stretchy top down to free her tits, leaving them to
dangle in front of his face like ripe melons. There were so many ways they
could play this game and he wanted to explore all of them. He wanted to show
her what it was like to get a pearl necklace as he fucked her tits, wanted to
stretch that tight ass and fuck her hard until she was sobbing with pleasure.
So much to do to his sweet Becky.

He reached up to tweak her nipples, enjoying the way her
entire body shuddered, pleasure creasing her face. “Next time I get to seduce
you, Becky.”

Her lips parted on a breathy moan as she pressed harder into
his hands. “Okay, Mr. McKnight.”

Dean let go of her nipples and gave her tits a fond pat
before he pulled her top up to cover them again. “Good. Now, I’m going to drop
you off at your car.”

“Yes sir,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

She climbed off him, all long legs and big tits, pulling her
skirt down to cover her ass. Dean adjusted his seat back to its normal
position, barely paying attention as she removed her shredded thong and used it
to clean his cum from her thighs. She looked like a mess. If her family saw her
now, they’d know exactly how bad she was. Somehow Dean didn’t think she cared
what anyone thought of her. It made him like her even more.

The drive to her car lasted all of five minutes. She gave
him another shy smile as she climbed out of his sedan, flashing him another
look at her pussy as she stood, before pulling her skirt down. With a sassy
twitch of her ass, she closed the door and approached her car, slamming the
hood closed. He watched as she produced a set of keys from somewhere and got
into the driver’s seat.

The sporty car’s engine started with a well-tuned purr. She
tooted the horn with a little wave as she tore off down the road. Dean shook
his head and put his car in drive. If she wasn’t careful, Becky would end up
just like Audra, although he definitely wouldn’t complain about that.

Sarah and Marta

“The kids are sleeping,” Dean said as he entered the master
suite. “Finally. I swear I keep expecting Dylan to pull
War and Peace
out so he can avoid going to sleep. He—” He sucked in a surprised breath. His
words lost with his train of thought.

Sarah sat at her vanity, a curly red wig covering her short,
blonde hair. The color made her already pale skin appear milky white. Knowing
what this meant, Dean closed the bedroom door as quietly as possible, the blood
in his body pooling in his groin. He leaned back against the hard wood, his
heart slamming against his rib cage. Her gray eyes studied her reflection as
she tweaked a curl here, adjusted a curl there, making sure the long strands
framed her tits.

Dean pushed away from the door, drawn to her naked body. Her
gaze focused on him, sharpening with lust and interest, but they didn’t speak.
Not yet. Standing over her, he studied the wig from every angle, enjoying the
way it made her look like a completely different woman.

He stopped behind her and reached down to trace a lock that
had curled around her nipple. “Who’s this?” he asked as he flicked the hard
peak.

“This is Marta.” She arched her back, encouraging him to cup
her tit. “She’s…domineering.”

His pulse quickened at the thought and he cradled her tits
with both hands, enjoying the heaviness and how responsive she was. “Is she
now? More domineering than Audra?”

Sarah tilted her head back, looking up at him with a
sparkling smile. “Audra only pretends she’s tough. Marta
is
tough.”

He pinched her nipples, knowing she felt his cock prodding
her back. “Show me.”

“Are you sure?”

Releasing her, Dean stepped back. “Yes, I want to see how
domineering you can be.” Because he didn’t think she had it in her to boss him
around, although his body liked the idea of her trying. “I’ll even play
submissive.”

She laughed again and stood. “You got it. I’ll be right
back.”

He debated getting undressed, but decided not to just yet.
He wanted to see how far his sweet Sarah would push him. Instead, he kicked off
his shoes and stretched out on the bed, watching as she approached the wall of
cabinets opposite him. They opened to reveal shelves displaying fifteen
mannequin heads sporting a wide array of wigs. Sarah bent over, her sex peeking
at him as she dug in the drawers beneath the wigs. She withdrew something and
disappeared into the master bathroom.

Dean stacked his hands behind his head and studied the wigs.
His women were in those wigs—Audra his vixen, Becky his hungry girl next door,
Dixie the stripper who gave him free lap dances, Kendra the hooker who loved to
suck his dick while he drove around town, Carly, his sons’ college-age
babysitter who needed to be seduced into sex, Zoe the blue-haired hellion who
liked to fuck in public. The list of women his wife pleasured him with
continued on, each one bringing something different to the bedroom, or his
office, or his car, or the picnic table at their favorite park. The medicine
cabinet in the bathroom contained an array of colored contacts so each woman
had her own look, giving them that extra authenticity needed to make their
role-play seem real. His women drove him insane and he couldn’t thank his wife
enough for that.

Sarah gave him the thrill of pursuing a new woman, of
engaging in illicit sex without betraying his marriage. Even better, she loved
it, getting off on planning their interludes and the rough sex he gave her. It
was the perfect kink for both of them.

The door to the bathroom opened and Marta exited, wiping
every thought out of Dean’s mind. The black leather dress she wore stopped at
the very tops of her thighs where a pair of lethally tall boots began. Her long
red hair spilled over her shoulders, kissing the skin where her tits swelled
above the tight clasp of her dress. His dick pulsed, dampening the material of
his boxers, making him regret his decision to stay dressed.

She sauntered into the room, confidence and power oozing
from every pore. Sure, Dean’s brain knew Sarah was beneath all the women he’d
enjoyed for the past three years, but she managed to make him forget who she
was when she was in full role-playing mode. Like now. He could almost believe
she was a take-charge woman named Marta with the most fierce green eyes and
reddest hair he’d ever seen.

He shifted his body as she neared the bed, ready to climb
out to meet her, to take her down to the mattress, but she shook her head. “I’m
running this show,” she said in a voice vastly different from Sarah’s.

If he hadn’t been so turned-on, Dean might have been spooked
by how easily she changed personalities, but all he could think about was what
she’d feel like wrapped around his dick. He lay back on the bed, feeling smug
and confident because while she might look and act like a different woman, she
couldn’t hide her arousal. Not with the way her nipples showed in sharp relief
against her leather top or the strong musk of her pussy when she crawled on top
of him.

“Spread out your arms,” she ordered, the dampness from her
sex soaking through his shirt.

Dean did as he was told, certain he was going to enjoy one
hell of a blowjob because Sarah loved his dick. Except as he reached over his
head, she leaned over him, her amazing tits in his face, and fastened his arms
to the headboard, the cool kiss of steel and the soft snick of handcuffs
snapping into place happening far faster than he’d been prepared for.

He tore his gaze away from the mounds threatening to spill
out of her top to glance at his hands before looking back at her and the smug,
hungry look in her eyes. His heartbeat kicked into overdrive, his cock ready to
tear through the material of his pants to get at her sweet pussy.

“Don’t move,” she said with a sassy wink.

Her hands slid down his arms and over his chest. She gripped
the material in both hands and yanked, buttons flying across the room. The soft
murmur of approval she let out as she touched his naked skin left him feeling
like a virgin about to be ravished. When she ran her fingers through the hair
on his chest, scraping her fingernails over his nipples, he hissed out a
surprised breath, more moisture dampening the front of his underwear. With his
shirt missing and her straddling his stomach, the spread positioning of her
legs meant her pussy was exposed and soaking his skin. He wanted her on his
cock, riding him, using him.

But Marta had other plans because she lifted her ass off his
torso and crawled up his body until her wet slit was positioned over his face.
Dean breathed in her scent, his eyes closing at the humid, musky smell. He
didn’t wait for her to tell him what she wanted because he couldn’t have
stopped himself from lifting his head to taste her if his life depended on it.
Having her pussy right there, knowing she was wet and ready for him was enough
to put him on the edge. Tasting her meant the scales were balanced.

Dean licked her from the entrance of her pussy to her clit,
wrapping his lips around the little nubbin of flesh and sucking. Her sharp cry
sent a pulse of pleasure through him. He wanted to grip her tight, to hold her
in place for him, but she’d restrained him and the torture threatened to kill
him. Her fingers dug through his hair, tugging the strands and pulling him
closer to her. More than happy to eat that sweet cunt, Dean worked her with his
tongue, flicking, licking, lapping and sucking as her juices seeped over his
face.

Soon she rode his mouth, her thighs tensing on his arms, the
leather of her boots cool against his ribs. His scalp stung from her repeated
tugs, but the wilder and more demanding she became, the more he teased and
taunted her. He nuzzled for her clit, taking the swollen bud between his lips
and tugging. She let out a strangled scream, the muscles of her pussy quivering
against his mouth and a flood of juices coating his chin.

She sort of wilted on him then, her heavy breathing loud in
the silence of the bedroom, her body lax. Dean lapped at her folds, drinking
down her salty-sweet fluids as he waited for her to move and fuck him. His dick
was hard enough to knock down skyscrapers, threatening to bust right through
his boxers and pants.

Marta wiggled on him, working her way back down his body
until she sat directly over the hard bulge in his pants. Dean panted, ready for
her to release him and let him come. Hell, he’d be glad for a hand job. Fuck,
even a warm breeze would shoot him off like a rocket. She rubbed her palm over
him, massaging him through the material, a secret smile on her face.

“You want to come, baby?”

Dean licked his lips, her tart flavor lingering. “Yeah.”

She stopped rubbing, walking her fingers up the hard ridge
of his dick to his belt buckle. With quick, deft movements, she had his belt
undone, his pants unbuttoned and slowly peeled the zipper down. Dean gulped,
more turned-on than he’d ever been in his life. When she gripped the waistband
of his pants and boxers and began to tug, he lifted his hips to make it easier
for her to remove his clothes, his cock springing free of its confinement. She
chuckled under her breath, pulling his pants down only as far as his knees.

Dean opened his mouth to order her to remove his clothes completely,
but she chose that moment to blow a stream of cool air across the slick crown
of his overheated dick. He shivered, every muscle in his body tensing as he
waited for the warmth of her mouth. But it never came. He glanced down,
directly into a pair of vivid green eyes.

“The other girls told me you’re pretty quick off the mark,”
she said with a sly smile, her hand reaching up to grasp the base of his cock.
She squeezed, milking a bead of pre-cum from the crown. “That
won’t
happen with me.”

Before he could ask her what she meant or to protest, she
proceeded to lick and suck on his cock, taking him deep in her mouth, flicking
the sensitive underside with her tongue. Dean groaned loudly, his head falling
back on the pillow, pleasure racing up and down his spine as his dick hardened
even more, his balls ready to shoot his load. His back arched as the tingling
at the base of his spine increased. It happened so fast, but there was no
denying it. He was coming.

And then he wasn’t.

The fingers grasping the base of his shaft tightened even
more, cutting off the blood flow to his dick and shutting down his climax
before it could happen. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he realized
what she intended. His body tensed, for what he wasn’t sure, but she drew the
head of his cock back into her mouth, bobbing her head as if she were trying to
catch apples.

“Unghhh,” Dean groaned, digging his heels into the bed to
get more of his dick into her throat but she shied away, keeping only the tip
of his cock in her mouth. “Goddammit, suck it!”

Her chuckle reverberated along his length to settle in his
balls, but she didn’t take more. His lungs labored for air as his dick swelled
and the room dimmed as the blood rushed from his head. He was going to come
hard any second now. Her free hand cupped his tight balls, her thumb rubbing
along the seam, stroking over the ultra-sensitive skin, and the tingling at the
base of his spine shot forward again.

Marta squeezed him again, stopping his climax before it
could get going. Desperation and frustration nearly had Dean screaming for
release, his entire body shuddering as he climbed for the pinnacle only to be
stopped short again. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to buck against
her hold, to force her to let him go so he could come.

After a few seconds, some of the intensity receded and the
red haze filling his vision faded. That was when she released him completely
and climbed up over him, the heat of her pussy scorching his sensitive dick
before she even came down on him. He slid into the tight, clenching muscles of
her cunt like a hot knife through butter.

She didn’t prolong his misery, setting up a fast, hard pace,
riding his cock as though she were going for gold. Dean squinted up at her, at
the way her red hair fanned around her face, at the sweat gleaming off skin
exposed by her dress. Her heavy-lidded eyes watched him. The plump lips that
had teased and tortured him parted on ragged breaths. She rode his dick up and
down, alternately grinding her hips against his in tight circles that swirled
his cock in her wet cunt. Tight, sucking friction worked at his shaft, the
flexing, rippling muscles of her pussy dragging his orgasm from him whether he
wanted it to or not. And he definitely wanted it.

At the very first tensing of her inner walls, Dean clenched
his hands into tight fists, locking every muscle in his body. Bending his
knees, he planted his feet as well as he was able and thrust up over and over
again, meeting each downward slide until every cell in his body seemed to seize
up at once.

It felt as though he poured everything he was, his heart,
body and soul into her, giving everything he had until there was nothing left,
until he was only an empty husk of bone and muscle. Dean’s brain took a
complete break from reality, going blank as only a man who’d had the most
intense, gut-wrenching orgasm of his life could experience. He had to learn to
breathe again. Fuck that, he had to learn how to blink because all he could do
was stare at the inside of his eyelids.

When he came to, what felt like hours later, she’d released
his hands from the cuffs and removed his clothes. Marta was gone, her red hair
probably gracing the head of one of Sarah’s mannequins. His lovely, unassuming,
sweet wife lay next to him in bed, her short blonde hair mussed and her face
still flushed from her orgasm. As lame as it would have sounded to his friends
at the office, Dean had never seen her look more beautiful than she did now.

She pillowed her head on his arm, her little hand splayed
over his ribs. “Well? Do you want to keep Marta?”