The Mammoth Book of Short Erotic Novels (61 page)

“Nice gesture, Sam,” she said giggling, “but I want you up here, tonight.” She patted her hand on the covers next to her.

I moved so fast, I nearly spilled the food. I sat beside her, cross-legged like her. I ate while she continued through the TV stations. The “pay-for” shit only had the usual dose of
Hollywood’s pabulum. Even the porno selections were boring.

She stopped at one of the classic movie channels. An old black-and-white movie was playing. I did not recognize it. As I ate, we watched the story unfold.

A small plane crash-landed in the deep Amazon jungle of South America. The crew and passengers had to fend for themselves, repairing their plane, even cutting a runway through the tangled
vegetation. One man was a professorial sort; he knew about the wildlife and the cannibalistic nature of the locals. Another actor portrayed a member of the mob who was caring for the child of an
underworld boss. Among the passengers was a political prisoner who turned out to be helpful and kind. The officer who was supposed to guard the prisoner, on the other hand, turned out to be a
creep.

“Basil Rathbone!” Amanda pronounced.

“I don’t think so. That’s John Carradine.”

“Oh, I’ve never heard of him.”

“He was a character actor, usually playing a villain or mad scientist or something. He was in hundreds of films.”

I finished eating. I set the tray on the nightstand. Amanda turned off the light, then lowered the volume on the TV. I started to get under the covers with her, but her hand came up to stop
me.

“Who said anything about that? Stay on top.”

I sat back, resting my head on the pillow. In the ghostly light of the TV, I could see she had her eyes trained on me. What was she dreaming up?

“Slide down a bit,” she requested. “Make yourself spread-eagled, please.” Her words were soft. The dominatrix tone was gone from her voice. She crawled from under the
covers and whispered in my ear.

“You must keep your hands down,” she instructed, “and don’t move. I trained you well enough now to no longer need restraints.” It sent a shiver down my spine
whenever she used the word “trained” on me. She sat on her haunches, in the sixty-nine position, above me. Her crotch rose directly above my face.

Like some over-eager fool, I eagerly reached for her waist.

“No!” That sharp edge was back in her voice. But she added softly, “Arms down, please.”

Her pubic hair was closely cropped. The mound of her outer lips was slick and nearly bare. Her delicate inner lips beckoned like a tempting flower for a nectar-hungry animal. But she held
herself above me, out of reach. I impulsively gave the inside of her thigh a prolonged kiss. I parted my lips, allowing my tongue to glide over her skin. I turned my head to face her other thigh,
giving it the same affection. I lingered there, spreading a dozen gentle kisses, gliding my mouth over her, never taking my lips away, always finishing with the touch of my tongue.

It startled me when her fingers brushed my cock. She began at the base, gently moving her hand upward. I felt the soft tips of her fingers feeling the head. She slid around it, then ran her
fingers back to the base. She spread her hand over my scrotum, caressing my testicles. Then she returned to the base. It felt as if she was exploring me. Then she took her hand away.

I resumed kissing, alternately running my tongue on her skin. I kissed behind her knee. She loved to have that area touched, but she was ticklish there, so I had to go slowly. I gently kissed as
before, letting my tongue part my lips to meet her skin. She swayed above me. I craned my neck, rising as high as I could bend, but her wonderful treasure was just out of reach.

The slightest hint of her marvelous aroma greeted my senses. Warmth spread through me, then desire took its place. I reached up, stretching my tongue. If only I had the spear tongue of an
African chameleon, I would implant my sticky lingus deep within her. I was able to reach halfway up her thigh, so I satisfied myself by nestling my mouth there. Then, as if by some miracle, her sex
just brushed my face. She had lowered herself for the briefest second. But now the treasure was gone. Was she measuring my reach? Her crotch was now a centimeter or two beyond me. It might as well
have been a mile. I dropped my head in frustration.

Almost imperceptibly, she was tickling the stubby hair at the base of my cock. She kept this up for a time. My senses focused on my crotch, nearly making me forget the goal above me. She next
ran her nails over the head of my penis, then again along the shaft. She clamped her fingers around the base, giving me a firm squeeze.

For a moment, her hips floated higher, and she released my penis. But she was only shifting, lowering herself onto me, placing her hips across my chest – but still out of reach. She
settled on my side, lying half on my body. A pillow was placed between my knee and her head. One leg remained draped close to my head. The other lay across my chest. She was just getting
comfortable. My ordeal was going to be a long one. I moaned.

As if to silence my plea, her foot came up to my face. I kissed along the sole, letting my mouth savor her skin. I slowly took her big toe in my mouth. I cocooned it with my prehensile tongue. I
started on her other toes, tasting, sucking, licking. She playfully plucked at my pubic hair, grabbing a few in her fingers, then pulling just hard enough to make me suspect she would yank some
out. This had no effect on my worship of her foot; I just moved along the outstep, until I got to her ankle. She replied by moving her leg to make my reach more comfortable. A shiver coursed
through her as I licked her ankle. Had I found a new ticklish area? I was delighted! I did not want to overextend my welcome, so I started to kiss up her leg. A mild saltiness was on her skin. Was
she sweating?

She shifted, her foot retreating. More of her weight bore down. This must be how a pinned insect feels. Her hands again were at the base of my cock. Fingers ran up the length; I felt a globule
of pre-come ooze free. She repeated the lazy milking of my penis. Another run of pre-come trickled down the shaft.

Now I shivered, a mini-orgasm coursing through my body. I got these sometimes, when very excited. Her hips came down slightly. My prize was in reach! Just as I got my tongue on her lips, she
pulled away. I moaned again. She giggled. Again she lowered, giving my tongue its next opportunity. I received the briefest touch, then she retreated. I was in agony, and she knew it.

Her hands cupped my scrotum again. She gave me the lightest squeeze, dancing me on the edge of pain. Her grip relaxed, and then she allowed me the briefest facial contact. My tongue led my lips
to her. Her clitoris was swollen free of its hood – I cradled it on my tongue. She pulled back. My desperation found release in her thighs once more.

“Oh!” I yelled, as her cruel teeth caught the head of my penis.

She let up; I felt the hot moisture of her breath. She was going down on me, but keeping her mouth open wide, only granting me the barest touch of her interior. I tingled at even the slightest
attention. I bucked slightly, trying to acquire firmer contact with her blessed mouth. I touched the back of her throat. She bore down on the base, anchoring me in place. She raised and lowered her
head in a mock blowjob. Her hair danced about the inside of my thighs. She was determined and graceful. It would be an eternity before I came. Another mini-orgasm shot through me. I started
moaning. She took her mouth away.

“Yeah, I love it when you moan.”

Suddenly her hips withdrew. I lost control. My arms shot up. I was desperate and grabbed her around the waist.

“No,” I begged. “Please don’t stop.”

She answered by grabbing my cock painfully, twisting and pulling like she was harvesting some root vegetable. The pain was too much.

“Ouch!” I called out. “Please!”

“Do that again,” she explained, “and you will never get a taste of me!”

My arms were slow to do my bidding. I was hyperventilating, losing control. I took deep breaths. Knowing she was aware of my frustration added to my ordeal. She was relishing every second. She
returned to her original position, her crotch dancing above me.

She started rhythmically dipping her hips. I craned my neck upward, tongue extended. For a second, I managed her outer lips. On the next leap, I again felt her swollen clitoris. The smell and
the taste of her slippery wetness added to my fever. Her body grew tense for a few seconds. A shudder coursed through her, her movements transmitting into my trapped body.

Suddenly she smashed hard against me. Her vulva was pressed flush against my mouth. I sucked at her like a starving leech, feeding and growing by siphoning her juices. Another shudder moved her
body. She drifted out of range again. Her gentlest motion was magnified. Our sweat became uniting glue. I wished to remain fixed to her forever, as if I were an ectoparasite. I wanted to be there
always, till I extended umbilical blood ducts through my mouth into her. I would grow from her nourishment. Amanda would unwind the coils of my DNA and unzip the double-helix. I needed to fuse with
her, to become a triploid entity that had never existed.

She started on my penis again. I was mindless to what she was doing, surrendering freely to her torment. But now I wished desperately to come. The teasing point of no return kept just out of
reach, shifting, moving. Moving against her was futile. My jailer knew all my motivations. She had had ample prisoners before me, so she could easily anticipate any move. I struggled to intensify
stimulation, nudging the sponge of smooth muscle tissue deep inside me toward the inevitable barrage of contraction. She adapted, reducing friction, evolving to prevent my deserved ascent. My hips
thrust on their own, as if some vestigial ganglion in my spine had swollen to become a prehistoric brain. What was I enduring? This was so much more than everything.

To test me, she dug her nails into the flesh of my cock. I was trapped in a cage of her fingers. But my thrusting was reflexive. Her nails dragged over my skin, her fingers becoming a toothy
trap, insisting I suffer more. Pre-come was defeating her, making me slippery, helping her nails to glide over my skin. A spark lit the darkness in me, spreading electrically, crossing the gaps of
my nerves. I was suspended in a warm glow for the briefest time. Then it dissipated.

“Please,” I heard myself begging. “I want to taste you.”

“What?”

“Amanda, please, I need to, to taste you.”

“Hm?” she responded.

“I’m begging: please let me have it. I just can’t stand it. Let me have, have . . .”

“Have what?”

“You!” I shouted. “Let me, let me stick my tongue in you. I must . . .”

She just pumped another stream of pre-come from her plaything.

“Well,” she replied, “begging is good. I love to have you begging. Why did you hold out so long?”

She answered her question by rubbing herself against my mouth. My tongue dived in, lapping every fluid-filled pool within her. Her moisture filled my nose; her glorious taste overwhelmed my
senses. She glided slightly away, but not so far as to deny me my prize.

“Now think carefully,” she said, as she released my penis. “What do you wish for more? Coming? Or having me sit on your face?”

That was easy.

I frantically grabbed her in a bearhug, not caring of the consequence. I pulled her to my mouth with all my might. I drilled my tongue deeper than possible, consuming all of her.

The gift of pleasure washed over my penis. The soft wet flesh of her mouth closed about me. Her tongue snaked over the head, probing the tip, nosing the rim.

Her clit was perched between my teeth. I held it carefully, sucking gently. It had swollen to the size of a tiny penis. I sucked on it, mirroring her movements.

Like an obsessive lover, my orgasm was stalking me. It was going to draw every thread of life from me, in one joyous blast of soul-wrenching surrender. It draw nearer; now there was no escaping
its hold on me. It was futile to fight.

“Amanda!” I shouted. “Don’t go, don’t leave me!”

But she was still on top of me. Always there, not a million miles lost as my feeble senses lied.

It broke me in one long stream. I arched my back, lifting Amanda from the bed. It did not pulse, but burst like a water balloon. The contractions started, the staccato shaking me, depleting me
until I was nothing.

Amanda on top of me. She kept me as my spasms died away. She was always there, not blasted away into starlight. I was here.

My arms fell limp. She rose from my panting body. She repositioned herself, rising on me. She was squatting directly on me, my head clutched between her legs.

She was grinding herself, rubbing, sliding. I stuck my tongue out as far as I could. She rocked against it as if it were a soft worm. Between the pitches of her hips, I was able to snatch what
breath I needed.

She was shouting something unintelligible. She dived forward, her hands anchoring against my hips. She held me fast, panting, digging her nails into me.

“Ooh.” Her sounds turned deep, vocalizing as if an animal suffering in unfathomable pain. She pressed down on me, hard.

Suffocation meant nothing to me now. My world was closing in, a new blackness surrounding me. A glowing ember was before me. Was that Amanda? I wanted to call to it, to her, but my mouth would
not respond.

Suddenly, I felt clear cool air. Amanda had slid off by my side.

“Damn!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, yeah,” was all I could manage.

Amanda sat up, pushing her hair away from her face. She flicked on the light and turned to me.

“You bastard,” she laughed, “you nearly drowned me!” I saw a heap of come ringing her mouth. Globs of it were dripping to her breasts. I joined her in laughter.

“Well, you told me to save myself up for this! It was either that or you threatened to put that damn chastity belt on me again.” I reached for the nightstand and grabbed a handful of
tissues. I changed my mind and tossed them over my back. I wiped the smear of semen from her chin with my finger. After I licked it clean, I bent to her breast. Some made it to her flesh there. Her
nipple was washed with my tongue. I worked my way up the trail of semen to her mouth. I cupped her chin and slowly lowered her jaw. My tongue explored the inside of her mouth, tasting me, traces of
smoked oyster, and her teeth. Her arms came up and wrapped themselves around my head. Our lips parted.