Goodbye Girl

She knocked on his door, ran a hand down her shirt to smooth non-existent wrinkles. She made her lips curve up when he opened the door.

“Hi,” he said.


Neither of them moved for an eternity, then he stepped aside, gestured with his head for her to come in.

She brushed by him, inhaled his woodsy scent, suppressed the shiver when he touched her. His touch always made her shiver.

He led her to the sofa where they sat in silence. When he reached out his hand to take hers, she pulled away.

He sighed. “Now? We’re doing this now?”

She turned to him, forced a smile. “Not yet.” She swung her leg over his hips and straddled him, cupped his face in her hands. “Not yet,” she repeated.

She pressed against him, pleased that his cock was hard. His hand gripped her ass and he devoured her mouth, the kiss frantic and desperate.

“Not yet,” he agreed.

She shoved off him, walked to the back of the small apartment. “We have other things to do right now.”

He grinned. “Yes we do.”

In his bedroom, he pushed her on the bed, yanked her pants down while she pulled her shirt off. Once she was naked, he pressed her thighs apart, pushed her knees back and dove. His mouth ravaged her pussy, his tongue grinding with relentless heat. Her fingers dug into his hair and she opened her thighs wider, begged for more. He shoved two fingers into her cunt and the orgasm was immediate.

Sensitive now, she cried out, tried to push his face away. But he pushed her thighs wider, sucked harder.

“Stop,” she cried, even as her body betrayed her, and the orgasm built again.

He growled—actually growled—and lapped at her, spread her pussy, sucked at her clit, until she came again.

“I can’t,” she begged, when he continued to lick. “Stop.” Her body jerked at his touch.

He only held her down, pressed her legs wider, and continued to eat her as though he would die without her.

Considering the reason she was there, she wondered if he would. Wondered if she would, too.

She was in the zone, by the fifth orgasm—when had she ever had five orgasms?—and when she came, she spread her legs wider and pressed his face into her. If she was going to leave him, she wanted this to be a memorable evening.

“Don’t stop,” she commanded.

He changed the angle, pulled back the hood, and an entire new sensation ripped through her. Fully exposed now, he tongued her clit and wave after wave slammed through her as he held her down and feasted.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

On his knees now, he rammed his cock into her, its impossible length hitting sensitive parts never before touched. He let her cum once before pushing her on her side and fucking her at an angle.

His hips rocked as his cock slid in and out of her cunt. She came again before he pulled out and stroked his cock with his hand—something he knew she loved to watch—and he came across her tits.

Spent now, they lay in bed. After two hours of moaning and sighing, they lay in silence.

She squeezed his hand once, then sat up, dressed in the dark.

At his bedroom door, she looked back, thankful he couldn’t see her cry.

“Goodbye,” she whispered.

Monster Mash

He pressed against her back, his entire body lined up against hers, his hard cock pressed against her ass.

“Are you awake?”

Emily groaned. “No.”

He thrust his hips against her. “I am.”

“Darren.” She growled his name. “I already told you, if you wake me up to fuck me, I’m going to punch you in your junk.”

He nibbled the back of her neck—the sensitive spot he knew drove her nuts—and pushed his hand down her belly until his fingers slipped into the folds of her pussy.

“Jesus, you’re already wet,” he panted in her ear.

“But I’m not awake.”

His fingers moved to her clit, rubbed the hard nub. Her traitorous body betrayed her—she could not resist this man. He had the mouth of an angel (if angels ate pussy) and the biggest cock she’d ever had. His mouth was angelic, but his cock was pure devil.

Her hips rocked against his hand and she pressed her ass against his cock. When she moaned his name, he yanked her thigh back over his hip, rammed his fingers into her cunt.

She hooked her arm back over his neck, rode his hand, chanting his name, until she came. The orgasm ripped through her like a rocket.

She rolled over, shoved him onto his back. “That was mean.”

He only grinned at her. “What are you talking about, babes?”

She lowered onto his cock and he groaned as her wet cunt gripped him. Her head dropped back as she took him deeper.

“You know I can’t resist this monster.”

His hands gripped her hips, dug into her when she started to ride him.

“It’s all yours, babes.”

She pinched her nipples as she fucked him, her hips swirling a little on the down shift. She looked like a goddess, pounding him like that. He was already close to the edge.

“It is mine.” Her dark eyes locked onto his and she smiled. “All mine.”

She sucked her fingers into her mouth, brought them down to her pussy and stroked her clit. She rode harder and faster until she spasmed around his cock. When she bowed back, Darren let himself go and shot into her, his fingers digging into her hips as he grunted her name.

She dropped onto him, her breasts crushed against his chest. His hand stroked her ass as she buried her face in his neck.

“And don’t forget it,” she said.

Coffee and Milk - Part 2

If you haven't bee following allow, you may want to start here at Part 1

* * *

Noah drives through traffic, navigating between cars and trucks. I want to unhook my seatbelt and lean over to nibble on his neck, rub my hand over his cock that I’m quite sure is rock hard. But the Good Girl inside me tells me to stay in my seat. Keep your seatbelt on. Behave yourself.

She pisses me off sometimes, this Good Girl. She always plays the logic card, insists I do the right thing. Well, let me tell you something, honey. Right now, the right thing for me to do is fuck Noah Arc. You can either watch or participate, but you’re not going to stop me.

He pulls into the lot of a high-rise, parks in the underground. He gets out and opens the door for me, guides me to the elevator.

I can’t explain it, but I’m anxious now. The rushed foreplay at Starbucks was needed on a level of desperation that neither of us will likely analyze.

He unlocks the door to his apartment, steps aside to let me in. It’s rather tidy for a single man. I expected clothes to be lying about and dishes on the counter, but everything is put away. There are books stacked on the coffee table, some mail on the kitchen counter. There is one coffee cup in the sink. I run my finger around the rim, knowing his mouth caressed it, just like he caressed my pussy only fifteen minutes ago.

He stands behind me, wraps his arms around my waist, presses his cheek against my head. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m nervous.”

He kisses the back of neck, knows this is a powerful erogenous zone for me. With an open mouth, he sucks and nibbles until I am all but writhing against him.

“You don’t seem nervous now,” he says.

“Not anymore,” I agree. “Now I’m very horny.”

“Well, let’s fix that.” He takes my hand, leads me to his bedroom where he undresses me.

He sighs and moans as the removal of each layer exposes more of me. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart,” he says when I’m standing before him naked. I’ve never thought of myself as beautiful or even pretty, but Noah looks at me with reverence and I feel like a goddess.

He leans in, presses his lips against mine, wraps his hands behind my neck. His tongue seeks mine, teases and plays. His moans are as intoxicating as his busy mouth.

My hands sneak up beneath his shirt, wander up his back; his muscles tense up as I touch him. I pull his shirt up and over his head, drop it on the floor. My gaze flicks down at his chest, then back up to his eyes and he knows what I’m thinking. He has mentioned more than once that his nipples are sensitive and I am eager to discover how much.

I press my mouth on his neck, flick my tongue along the pulse. Fuck, he tastes good. I want to savor more, I need to have more. My mouth trails across his shoulder, down his chest. I dip my head down and flick my tongue across his nipple.

He hisses and I hesitate.

“Keep going,” he says. His hand cups the back of my head, presses me against him.

I lathe his nipple, flick my tongue over it like a maniacal metronome. It’s a technique a former lover performed on me and it drives me wild.

It works on Noah, too.

He drops his head back, pushes his hips forward. I rub my hand against his hard bulge, shift to work the other nipple.

“God, that feels good,” he moans.

I suck hard on his nipple and he growls. His fingers convulse, dig into my scalp. His reaction undoes me and I can’t wait any longer. I drop to my knees, and make quick work of pulling down his jeans and underwear in one smooth movement.

His cock springs up, thick and dark, the head shiny with pre-cum. I wrap my hand around the base of the shaft, flick my tongue across the top. Tangy and salty. He is so fucking delicious.

I wrap my lips around the head, and suck. Gripping the base, I take him in as far as I can, sucking and stroking. He drops his head back, moans my name. I drop into the zone, absolutely in love with his beautiful cock. His moans make my pussy drip.

“Okay,” he whispers. “I have to stop, sweetheart. If I keep doing that, I’m going to cum.”

He tries to pull away from me, but I cup his ass and push him back into my mouth. I moan around his cock and I know he enjoys the vibration because he gets even harder.

“Oh, fuck, that feels good.” He holds my head and fucks into my mouth, chanting my name until he cums.

When he stops pulsing, I sit back, kiss the tip of his cock. I smile up at him.

“Now what?” I ask him.

Coffee and Milk - Part 1

He’ll be at Starbucks. He’s always at Starbucks. He’s the only person who loves coffee with the same guiltless greed as me.

Nestled in a club chair in a quiet corner, I sip a black Americano and pretend to read. The café is not too busy this time of day. I suppose most people don’t want caffeine this late at night. For me, it doesn’t matter. Chronic insomnia keeps me up at night, caffeine or not.

Or maybe it’s the fact that my brain spins like a tornado as I play out sex scenes with this man—this complete stranger.

Then again, we’ve exchanged emails containing intimate, detailed descriptions of our sexual needs. That no longer makes us strangers, right?

I realize my Forrest Gump logic is not sound, but I don’t care. I want this man with an intensity that frightens me. He has spun words of lust and hope, leaving me wet and needy. He makes me forget my loneliness and fills the empty places in my soul.

My heart pounds when he walks in.

He strolls through the café, confident and a little arrogant—he carries both well. He walks straight to the counter and orders his drink, chats with the petite, blond barrista while he waits. He doesn’t look around, but keeps his eyes on her, laughing and flirting. I can’t blame him. I did the same thing. She has a great smile and a really great ass. I had imagined what it would be like to press my face between her thighs and I smile now, knowing he’s probably thinking the same thing.

That is something else we both share. I love pussy almost as much as he does.

Noah Arc, as he is known in the cyber world, is a self-proclaimed cunnilingus addict. The man who devotes his life to ‘the little man in the boat’, or arc, if you will.

I admit, my boat hasn’t floated in a while. I need to drift on the ocean of lust and greed until I am sated.

And that’s why I’m here. So Noah can float my boat.

As he walks by, coffee in hand, he glances over and smiles at me. A few more steps and he stops, turns. He looks at me with a fierce intensity.

I have stared at those eyes in countless photographs and I knew they were intense, but in person, they are hypnotic. I am pulled toward him, as if I’m in a thrall.

He walks over, sits down next to me, never taking his gaze away. It is breathtaking.

“You’re here,” he says.

For a moment I think he is angry, but then he smiles. His full lips curve in the most mischievous grin and I relax.

“I needed to see you,” I said.

He cups his hand behind my neck and pulls me in. His mouth is a breath away from mine when his tongue flicks out to wet his lips. My pussy blooms with need as I imagine that tongue flicking my clit.

“You can see all of me,” he says.

He covers my mouth with his, lets out a quiet moan. His other hand creeps up my thigh to cup my hip. His tongue eases my mouth open and I welcome it, teasing it with my own. I tilt my head, take the kiss deeper. My fingers creep through his thick curls, cup the back of his head. I want to push him down, press him between my thighs, urge him to feast.

But we’re in Starbucks, for Christ’s sake!


“No,” he says. “I’ve waited long enough. Come with me.”

He takes my hand, and I grab my bag, follow him out to the parking lot. We walk behind the building to a secluded alcove where he presses me against the concrete wall.

“I need to taste you right now. I’ve waited too long for this.”

“Oh god,” is all I can manage by way of assent as he drops to his knees and pushes up my skirt.

“You aren’t wearing underwear.” He looks up at me, a surprised smile on his face.

“I thought it would be easier.”

“It is, sweetheart.”

He lifts my left leg and places it over his shoulder, spreads my labia with his thumbs. My head falls back, bumps against the brick wall, as I lose myself in the sensation. I fucking love it when I’m spread open like this and he knows it.

He presses his open mouth against my pussy. The heat is like an inferno, igniting everything inside of me. His tongue laps my juices, pushes into my cunt and I ride it as the pressure builds to a delicious high.

He wraps his lips around my swollen clit, sucks it hard into his mouth and it undoes me. I bow back as orgasm tears through my body, rushes up through my scalp.

He kisses my thigh then lowers my leg, lets my skirt drop down.

“Let’s go back to my place,” he says.

Oh, god, yes.

Click here for Part 2.

NYC - Part 8

NOTE: The NYC Series starts with Face to Face. If you haven't been following along, you may want to start there.

* * *

Saying goodbye to Sarah was bittersweet. Emily had enjoyed being with her, enjoyed the softness of her long, lean body wrapped around her own. But she wanted to spend her last day alone with Steve.

It was selfish, she knew, but she wanted this memory of just the two of them, wanted to savor it, hold it close to her heart, bring it out when she was home alone.


“Come here.” Steve patted the bed next to him.

Eager, ready, Emily crawled next to him. He pulled her close, cradled her body next to his.

“I’m glad you came down for a visit. It was more than I imagined.” He chuckled. “And I imagined it a lot.”

He pressed his open mouth against the back of her neck, flicked his tongue against her skin. He knew, now, that this was her strongest erogenous zone, and he smiled when she arched against him, rubbed her ass against his cock. He shifted, nudged, until the shaft rested between her firm cheeks.

“I like this,” he murmured against her ear.

Emily sighed in response. He was already saying goodbye.

As if he could read her thoughts, he wrapped an arm around her and whispered, “We don’t have much time.”

“No, we don’t.”

“How do you want to spend your last few hours here?”

She turned to him, pressed her lips against his. She meant it to be a simple kiss, void of emotion, but he groaned against her mouth and she melted. Saying nothing, she poured herself into the moment and his reaction was immediate. Teeth scraped against lips, teased and tugged.

It wasn’t rushed and frantic like before, when each of them was desperate to devour the other, impatient to learn, eager to know. They had spent the last two days doing just that. Now it was tranquil and languid, a hypnotic journey of pleasure.

His hands skimmed her hips, her fingers tangled in his hair. Her hands trailed up and down his back, his fingers pinched eager nipples. Their mouths never parted, until he broke the connection and trailed his lips down her throat.

She moaned, fell back against the bed. “Steve.” His name was nothing but a sigh.

His hand skimmed across her belly. “I have to do this,” he said against her mouth. Thick fingers pushed through the wet folds of her pussy. “I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I,” she panted.

Taking his time, he pushed apart her thighs, pressed open her lips. His head dipped down and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, anticipating the thrill, bracing for the punch when his mouth devoured her cunt in greedy laps.

Steve bent forward and pressed his open mouth against her. “Mmmmm.” His quiet hum sent tiny shock waves through her, but he didn’t move. She shifted, tried to grind her pussy against his mouth, but he held her fast. “Just enjoy, baby.”

He stroked her thighs with his fingers until she relaxed into the bed. Only then, did he move his tongue.

It was delicious torture as he traced lines between the wet folds of her pussy, nipped at the tender skin inside her thighs. He traced lazy circles around the swollen nub, as blood pulsed. He blew warm air against her clit, but never touched.

“Steve,” she panted. “Please, Steve.”

It’s what he’d been waiting for…to hear her beg for him one last time.

His fingers had difficulty finding purchase—she was so fucking wet—but he managed to spread her open, take in the glistening lips for a few seconds, before clamping his mouth onto her.

“Oh, fuck,” she groaned, but kept still, as if she knew he would stop if she moved.

His lips pulled on her clit, making soft, sucking noises, as his fingers stroked her labia. No longer able to control herself, her hips moved. Not the desperate thrusting from before, but a gentle rocking, matching the tempo of his mouth and tongue.

“That’s it, baby.” Steve pressed a finger into her cunt and Emily bit back a cry. He pulled out and came back with two thick fingers, pushed them in and out of her, kept the slow, easy pace, as Emily chanted his name over and over.

Her cunt pulsed around his fingers when she came and he sucked the juices from them.

She was still a little dazed from the orgasm, the emotion of it, when he lay next to her, spooning as they had when Susan left.

“I’m going to be selfish now,” he said and he lifted her leg, pressed into her from behind.

He held her as his hips rocked against her ass, his cock sliding easily into her cunt, dragging her up again.

“Don’t forget this, baby,” he said. He stroked her clit with one hand and the next orgasm ripped through her.

“Not a chance,” she said.

* * *

This is the last chapter of the NYC series. I appreciate the comments (both private and posted). I love to hear from readers, so don't be shy. And if there's something you'd like me to write about, please ask...I'll gladly consider it. I do enjoy a challenge.