The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions (13 page)

Groggy, it dawned on him that he was tethered and he began to fight wildly until he saw me standing there in a white lacy little short thing that covered almost nothing.

Wide-eyed, he said, “Mariah, my God, what are you doing?”

“Patrick, please don’t fight this,” I said. “I’m doing something for you, something that’s long overdue.”

“What are you talking about? Let me loose!”

“Don’t make this hard on yourself, baby,” I said. “I’ll let you loose when I’m finished.”

He was wearing only boxer shorts and I could see that his cock was jammed up against the fly making a tent. The poor guy couldn’t help it. He hadn’t had sex in two years and was
staring at a beautiful woman (if I do say so myself) wearing almost nothing. With the excitement of what I was doing, my nipples were turgid, my sex throbbing.

“Let me loose, Mariah, don’t do this.”

Gently I pulled down his shorts and it was interesting that he didn’t kick at me. He could have, but being the old-world gentleman that he was he would never kick at a lady, even now.

His very large stiff cock was standing straight up and I could see that he was embarrassed.

“I can’t – Elizabeth,” he said, and it really sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

“Patrick, darling, Elizabeth loved you and you did everything for her you could do. She wouldn’t want you to suffer like this.”

“Please, Mariah, I can’t,” he whispered.

“You’re not doing anything, sweetheart; I’m doing it, so you don’t have anything at all to feel guilty about. You can’t get free and you have no control over what
I’m about to do, so you may as well just lie there and enjoy it.”

The look on his face was excitement, and maybe a little fear, I’m not sure. “It’s not your fault, baby,” I said. “I’m the villain here.”

I sat on the bed taking his beautiful rigid cock in both my hands, and bending down I sucked the full wine-coloured plum into my mouth.

With a loud gasp, almost a scream, he stiffened, his hips coming up off the bed. “No, baby, please,” he moaned and I knew he was in ecstasy.

I continued to suck the plum, encircling it tightly with my tongue, now sliding my lips over the long shaft all the way down to the nest of dark hair, then back up and down again, a little
faster, a little faster, my lips gripping it hard, my tongue circling, the suction powerful.

Now he was screaming, trying to pull away because he was about to come and was trying to keep from letting it erupt into my mouth.

No, you sweet, delicious man, you’re not getting away, I thought, holding tight as he lost control. Hot semen was squirting in powerful spasms, his whole body was shuddering and he was
groaning like he was dying. And I was still sucking it out, drinking it in, loving it. I love the taste of a clean, healthy man’s come. There’s nothing like it.

“Mariah, what have I done?” he murmured, like he had committed some horrible crime.

“You haven’t done anything,” I said. “I did it. Do you think you could have stopped me?” Even as I spoke I was fondling his cock and balls, caressing him. I lay
down on top of him and rubbed my big breasts against his hairy chest, kissed his throat, his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, and his head turned, his open mouth seeking mine. His sweet mouth was
so sensual and I opened it with my tongue, kissing him roughly.

He moaned and I clasped his cock, which had another powerful erection. “Patrick, sweetheart, I’m going to climb on top of you and fuck you, baby, so don’t try to fight me
because you can’t stop me. I’m going to fuck the hell out of you and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to keep it from happening.”

The poor precious man was groaning, his hips pushing up at me. Climbing on top of him I straddled him and, opening my sex, I took his cock in my hands and placed it in the opening. Gently I slid
down on his big long cock and it was so damn big it was hurting a little, but I was able to take in almost all of it.

I began to pump my hips up and down, slowly at first because it was so damn good I was very close to having an electrifying orgasm. But this was not for me; it was for him, and I was going to
fuck him until I had drained him of every ounce of that stored up come. Now I was able to move faster, driving my sex down on that pulsating cock, pushing it deep into me, and Patrick was gasping,
groaning, pushing up to meet me.

“Oh God, oh God,” he whimpered, his body shuddering, jerking again, and I knew he was coming. He let out this loud gasp, stiffened, pushed into me, and I could feel him ejaculating,
filling me up. With every electrifying spasm, he screamed, pushing into me until he finally went limp.

Somehow I knew there was still another orgasm in there. I got up and cleaned myself up a little while he lay there cuffed to the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, like he was ashamed for coming like that.

“You’re going to be a lot sorrier, sweetheart, because I’m not through with you yet,” I said, laughing.

I took out a slender phallic-shaped vibrator, plugged it in and went back to the bed. I greased it with petroleum jelly and laid it aside for the moment. Gently I began to massage his cock and
balls again, kissing, sucking playfully at the head, then sucking more in earnest and after a while that beautiful cock was standing at attention again. Continuing to slide my lips down on his
cock, I picked up the vibrator and began to gently insert it in his rectum. When he realized what I was doing he began to fight me, yelling for me to stop, and when he tried to push my hand away
with his foot he inadvertently opened himself up and I went all the way into him. Flipping the switch, I turned it on.

“Aghhh,” he screamed, and suddenly his cock stood straight up as hard as a wooden club.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” he was screaming, and his cock was squirting come into the air covering us both.

I was so damn turned on watching him shooting off like that. “Well, baby, I think I’ve pretty much drained you,” I said. “I’m going to let you loose now and you can
beat me up if you want to.” I removed one cuff and then the other. “I hope you can forgive me,” I said.

“Just a minute here, little girl, you’re not going anywhere,” he said. He was a very strong man and in a moment he had me cuffed to the bed. I was scared as hell, not knowing
if he was mad or not, not knowing what he was up to.

With me lying there helpless those beautiful blue eyes were looking down into mine. “Now you’re going to get your punishment for being a bad girl,” he whispered. He kissed me
hard on the mouth, then his lips brushed down my throat to my breasts, sucking hard on one nipple and then the other, pulling them, being rough, hurting me in the most delicious way.

“You thought you had drained me, honey, not even close,” he murmured. Pushing my thighs open roughly, he buried his face in my sex. Seeking and finding my clitoris with his tongue,
his lips and tongue sucked it so hard I screamed, the tingling spasms setting me on fire. But he was relentless, his tongue going deep in me, probing as he sucked, and I was coming so hard I felt I
was dying. The shocks were radiating out from my sex in electric waves and I thought surely my heart would give out.

Weak and trembling I said, “Patrick, you can let me loose now.”

With a devilish laugh he said, “Oh hell, no, little girl, not a chance. I’m just getting started. I’m going to fuck you till you cry, till you beg me to let you loose.”
As he said this he was mounting me and, shoving my legs apart with his knees, he went into me deep, hard, pumping in me like a flawless machine.

“I’m going to fuck you for every day of my life I did without,” he said, grunting, slamming into me, stroking hard and fast, and I could feel a vaginal orgasm building in me to
another volatile climax.

“That’s a good start, baby,” he murmured and then kissed me roughly, biting, pulling at my nipples. Everything this gorgeous Irishman was doing was driving me mad with
desire.

“Let’s see how you like this,” he said, laughing.

When I saw he had the vibrator I screamed, “No,” and tried to twist away from him, but he threw himself on me and held me down. Pulling my leg up, he pushed the thing all the way
into me with me screaming for him to stop.

“Yeah, baby, I’m going to stop just like you did,” he said, turning it on. Then, holding it in, he climbed on me and drove his rigid cock into me again. I was humiliated,
trying to push the vibrator out, but he was holding it in, thrusting in me fast and deep, my whole insides vibrating.

“Hot damn, that feels good,” he said, and when I stopped fighting and gave in to it, I never felt anything that felt so rapturous. I was moaning and groaning and wailing like a crazy
person and he was fucking me like a wild man.

This time when I started coming it was a long protracted orgasm, and deep vibrating thrills were washing over me in waves that I thought were killing me. And somewhere in my dreamy, ecstatic
state I felt him stiffen, drive into me, and he was gasping, pumping hot sperm, digging his fingers into my bottom, pulling me tightly to him like he was trying to drive that cock all the way to
China. Finally he reached up, unlocked my cuffs and went limp on me as we drifted into a deep sleep.

There was more of the same when we woke up, but you get the picture.

Poulose, Boxboro

I vividly remember the sowing of the seed that flowered into my obsession with panties. It happened one bright golden sunny spring morning in my backyard. The bell in the
nearby church had just tolled the Angelus, and the shadow of the church steeple, cast by the setting sun, fell upon me. My younger sister had recently been toilet trained and I heard my mother
ecstatically croon over her to a visiting aunt, “See how cute she looks in her panties!” No one had ever crooned over me like that and the incident struck me deeply. I was five and
little to know that over the next twenty-five years I would be fascinated with panties, and that it would take Rose, Kurt and an unforgettable night with them before I would be rid of my
obsession.

My obsession was triggered off many years later, when, at the local laundromat, I opened the door to the dryer and found in it a pair of white panties. Luminous in the reflected neon lights, it
seemed magically alive, dancing and beckoning to me from the dim interior, mouth-wateringly perfect, white, soft, silky, scanty, petite and feminine. A few days later, I mail-ordered my first pair
of panties and from this modest beginning gradually acquired a near perfect collection of panties and briefs.

Ten years later, one snowy winter, depressed by the early darkness, the snow and the cold, I visited the local Sears to buy some socks. I walked through the women’s lingerie section and
entered the men’s area. Against the eye candy of lingerie in the women’s section, the men’s underwear looked like white burlap sacks. The bright neon lights and the deathly
whiteness of the vests hanging around me matched the swirling snow outside. The store was cold – they seemed to have turned the heating off. My spirits sank deeper.

I found the socks section, bent down, rummaged through the bin and picked out half-a-dozen khaki socks. I straightened up when suddenly I saw hanging before me, against a layout of white vests,
the most gorgeous pairs of men’s briefs: one a shimmering gold and the other a metallic ruby red. Contrasting against the white background, they seemed to float in the air. Awestruck, in a
trance, I walked to them and picked them up.

Quickly I buried them under the socks. They must have turned the heat up with a vengeance because I was now warm and sweating. I furtively glanced at the cashier as she rang it in. She had
shoulder-length blond hair and a nice saucy look in her eye. I blanched, fearing the worst, but she caught my eye and smiled at me. I saw the flash of a jewel on her tongue.

She rang in the socks, and I braced myself as she picked up the ruby-red briefs.

“Mmm,” said this angel, light rays flashing from her mouth as she spoke. “Are these for you? They suit your colour!”

I blushed and mumbled, “Yes.”

To my surprise, she looked at me with frank enthusiasm and said, “I hung them out this morning. I really like them and thought they would brighten up the place on a snowy day like this. I
bought a pair myself for my boyfriend, but he won’t wear them – claims that they’re sissy.”

I nodded weakly, and mumbled, “I see.” Quickly I signed the credit card slip.

As I was about to leave, she said, “If you need help trying them on, give me a call. My name is Rosalina, but my friends call me Rose. I work here most days.”

Speechless, I left.

Spring came by and finally I summoned up the courage to call Sears and asked for Rose. In a surprisingly short time, I was connected to her. “Hi!” I stammered. “I don’t
know if you remember me – the guy who bought your briefs? You offered to help me try them on?”

To my delight she enthusiastically replied that yes, she did indeed remember me. She asked could she help me. Yes, of course she could. She asked if she could bring her boyfriend along.
“Sure!” I said, not knowing what else to say. We agreed to meet at my apartment the evening of the following Saturday.

Time went by on leaden feet, but finally it was Saturday evening and a few minutes after eight, the doorbell rang. I opened it to find Rose and her boyfriend at the door.

“Hi!” she said. “Meet my boyfriend Kurt.” Kurt was about my age and height, with shoulder-length brown hair, blue eyes and a somewhat sad, frozen look on his face. For
some reason he looked familiar. I felt I had known him a long time ago. We shook hands and nervously I ushered them in.

We sat around the coffee table, drinking soda and making nervous small talk, until Rose asked suddenly, “So, shall we try them on?” I blushed and started to demur. “But
that’s why we came!” said Rose “I rarely get to see what I sell being worn by an actual customer, and this is a great opportunity for me.” At this, I went into my bedroom
and came out with the two briefs.