Sweet Confessions Read online

  As I slid the panties off, I couldn’t resist a quick inhale. My scent was pungent, just like it always was when I was deeply aroused. I set the panties discreetly on his chair and made my way to the elevator, waiting for Jamie’s next move.

  Now, after months of handing off panties to this man, I made my way to Jamie’s office at five, just as he had instructed me to. The pink panties were still on as I sat in the chair across from his desk and waited. After leaving him numerous pairs of panties, and indulging in countless hours of fantasy, something had finally changed. I stiffened a little when I heard him come in; his hand rested on my shoulder before I saw him. He sat down across from me and smiled, laying his hands flat on his desk.

  “Thanks for meeting me, Liz. You’re probably wondering why I wanted you to stick around today.”

  “Yeah. I mean, usually you just want me to leave the panties. They’re beautiful, by the way. You have great taste.”

  “Thanks. I had something else in mind for us today. The last pair of panties you gave me were fantastic. It’s amazing how much your scent changes from week to week. And unless I’m mistaken, this last time you seemed particularly, um, excited.”

  My face flushed crimson as he leaned farther toward me. I uncrossed my legs and felt my pussy clench at his insinuation. It was amazing how he could tell, just from my scent, his effect on me.

  “You’re right. I was. This whole thing is driving me crazy.”

  He smiled and stood up, walking over and towering above me.

  “That’s what I figured. So I thought maybe today we could do something about that.”

  He took my hand and led me around his desk until I was leaning on the edge and he was standing between my legs. He hiked up my skirt, exposing the gorgeous pink panties. The wet spot right over my cunt had grown, and he smiled again when he saw it. He pushed me back gently until I was lying on his desk with my legs spread wide, my heels resting on the edge. He looked down at me before he dropped to his knees, his head right between my thighs. I waited for something to happen, but there was only the sound of his heavy breathing, deep inhalations ringing out in the silence of his office. His fingers traced over my puffy lips, our skin separated by the moist fabric. He brushed over my clit and I gasped at the contact. He stood, his hands running down my legs as he spoke.

  “I want you to make yourself come, right in those panties, Liz. I want to know how you smell after you come. It’s all I can think about. Can you do that for me?”

  Without a word, my hand dropped to my cunt, and I started rubbing myself through the sodden fabric. My clit jumped under my touch, and I couldn’t stop myself from crying out. I looked at Jamie and saw him opening his pants before he sat down. His hand was around his hard cock and he sat back and watched me, stroking himself gently as I rubbed myself harder and faster.

  “Jamie, I’m going to come. Oh, god.”

  My eyes couldn’t stay open any longer and I closed them tight. My body shook on his desk, pushing papers and folders to the floor with my convulsions. As my tremors started to subside, Jamie’s head dropped to my pussy, and he breathed deeply of my scent. He came as he smelled me, my sweet scent pushing him straight over the edge. His free hand rested on my leg as he shook; his face twisted in pleasure as he took one last whiff of me before he slumped back into his leather chair.

  I sat up and looked at him, spent and happy. Slipping off the pink panties, I laid them gently on his desk. I stooped to kiss his forehead, still sweaty from our exertion.

  “See you tomorrow, Jamie.”

  “Bye, Liz.”

  As I reached the door, he stopped me before I could go any farther.

  “Hey Liz, next time, I’m thinking boy cut. What do you think?”

  BAD INFLUENCES

  Devyn Christopher

  I was in my bliss. I slept past nine, finished the tawdry novel I had been reading, enjoyed the sun while the dog chased seagulls along the lakeshore and was about to join the sweating glass that awaited me near the hot tub. I could not have imagined a more perfect way to cap last night’s happiness.

  He had invited friends, family and even some of my coworkers to surprise me for my birthday. He arranged for a wine tasting, and the sommelier (a tall Australian in a cobalt, Italian silk suit) introduced my very impressed family to excellent varietals as we nibbled on a decadent display of cheeses. I savored each taste of aged grape, blending them on my tongue with Quebec Oka or French Camembert until I felt my eyes flutter behind the lids.

  He wasn’t in bed when I awoke, and the bedroom had that damp, sweet scent of a freshly showered man who had been up early and was already dressed. The house was quiet. I donned a robe, and by the time the aroma of good coffee reached me, I saw the note on the kitchen table and the small truffle beside it. Nice.

  Happy birthday, you fucking drop-dead gorgeous hottie you, the note read. Sorry: got urgent email this morning, need to run into the office. No crisis. Ain’t I a good company slave? Everything from last night already tidied up. Mostly. Have a great morning, see you in a few. Love you tons!

  It was already midafternoon when I slipped into the tub, and it wasn’t long before I felt the splash as he joined me after coming home. I smiled from under my Ray-Bans. He gave me a kiss and dunked himself before stretching out across from me. I enjoyed the view of his wet arms as he ran his hands over his head, slicking back his hair.

  Jason is definitely eye candy, with a radiantly happy face under a golden crown, the kind of legs that only a passion for soccer could sculpt, a chest to match and an always-positive attitude. And a handful of cock that swayed heavily above a pair of tight, smoothly shaven balls.

  “Great party, huh?” he laughed, as he turned on the jets.

  Enjoying the streams against my lower back, I looked at him from across the steaming roil of bubbles.

  “Remember Shannon from my work? I can’t believe you invited her! She’s a riot, isn’t she? The little wench.” Shannon and I had been sharing the same cubicle for the last year, and between her confessions during smoke breaks and the things she let me read before she texted them to her lover in Phoenix, my libido had become more and more appreciatively inspired.

  Most of my friends were pretty straight laced; Shannon stood in stark contrast to them all. My grandmother would have called her a bad influence, which very probably would have meant we would have become BFFs had we met in college. She hosted adult novelty parties on the side, selling sex toys to successful, suburban women who had their hands in their pants while their husbands or boy toys or screaming kids were out of the house. I’m by no means a fragile or inexperienced flower, but never before had I heard of some of the things she had available: Miniature vibrators that fit on the tip of a finger or looked like a tube of lipstick. Tiny metal cuffs that comfortably, but unyieldingly, clamped around the thumbs. And my favorite: the L-shaped dildo that sported a pretty blue phallus sticking forward like a real dick while the other end was slid inside you. That thing made my imagination run wild.

  “Isn’t she the one who you said fucked the intern?”

  “The bike messenger. They went out for a while, but she got tired of his bullshit. I think she was just hot for the image—the piercings, you know? God knows he was a change of pace for her.”

  He laughed. He has such an amazing smile, my guy. I paused, remembering a moment from last night when my coworker swayed into me in the hallway. She was hammered and tugged on my forearm as she chuckled and whispered in my ear.

  “Lucky bitch,” she had slurred. “He has one fucking delicious little ass.”

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked after a moment, seeing that I had retreated into my head. I smirked and sipped my drink, relishing the frothing water around us, feeling my muscles loosen as we languished together under the afternoon sun. I cocked my head at an angle to show a little attitude before responding.

  “Baby, have I ever told you that you have a great butt? Even Shannon thinks so. She told me last nigh
t.” There was that smile of his again as he stood up, the dripping water shimmering like jewels down his chest and abs in the light. His dark swim trunks clung around the soft but delightfully thick penis that I knew lurked underneath them. His cock is as beautiful as his smile.

  I am a lucky bitch.

  Two small steps across the hot tub and he was standing imperiously before me, like a robust Olympic athlete fresh from the pool. He bent downward and kissed me, holding my face in one hand as the other pushed wet hair back from my brow. His lips tasted sweet and warm, and I languished in the shadow made by his broad shoulders as if a special, private curtain had been raised around us. I felt the flutter and the tingle. I raised my hands to his calves as the kiss continued and kept them there after he slowly withdrew and stood straight up again. He grinned appreciatively.

  “Well, sir, you do!” I reached up and under the trunks and grabbed myself some handfuls of husband. He laughed again, but gradually stopped and grew quiet when I kept my hands where they were, cupping his asscheeks and squeezing them softly.

  So many times had I watched him in the shower, or playing soccer, or jogging on the beach, and found my eyes simply riveted to the sculpture under his lower back. Smooth and pert, Jason’s ass had the lightest touch of blond peach fuzz running down his spine, into the sexy crevasse underneath and along each firm bun. I loved holding his ass when I sucked his throbbing dick, pulling him into my mouth with it.

  I bobbed my outstretched palms and fingers on his flesh, feeling his bubble shape and patting him. His ass filled my hands nicely. I slowly drew a finger or two up and along the seam between his cheeks, enjoying how pert he really was. Daringly, I slowly probed a finger inside farther, found his anus and teased it with a fingertip. It was warm and soft and tight, and I exerted a little pressure under the very outermost ring of his sphincter when it started to clutch the tip of my finger.

  My arms still around him, I felt him tense up as he pulled back just slightly. The quizzical look on his face was precious.

  “Um. What are you doing?”

  Did I see the hint of a smile under those widened, glittering eyes?

  “I’m enjoying my man,” I smirked, looking up. I pressed my forearms firmly against his strong legs and held him, my hands sending a clear message: stay just where you are, dude.

  Did I feel a sudden swell against my chest?

  “You’ve had too much gin,” he laughed, as he tried to pull away. I gripped his ass even tighter, pulling him firmly enough against me that the bulge under his trunks was just above my shoulder. I held him in place and delivered a crisp, splashing smack.

  “I’m drinking iced tea,” I said with a saucy smile.

  I felt my belly tense and my heart skip a beat. I knew I was at the threshold of uttering something that I had been deeply desiring for a while. To utter it out loud would be to somehow make it more real, to commit to it. Had I intended to really do this, here, now? But here I was, with him before me and his yummy butt in my hands, and it was time for me to either lunge forward or slink back into a place where I would keep this only to myself.

  “You are a lucky bitch,” she’d said.

  Unlike some men from my past, Jason had always been supportive of my choices. It’s a big reason why I appreciated him when we started dating, and it became a fabulous part of what we had built by the time we were married. I trusted him, and that’s really what made me lucky. Somewhere deep inside myself, I knew that if I really expected him to be intimate enough with me to actually give what I wanted, I’d have to be brave enough to open up about what I was after, what I had been masturbating about for so long. I took a breath and chose to move forward. I chose to press my luck.

  My saucy, playful grin must have shifted into something closer to stern concentration and hungry desire, because as my eyes bore into his, his jaw went slack and, from under him, I could easily see his breathing quicken.

  “Turn around for me, baby. I’m not going to hurt you. Do it.”

  Yes: there was a definite swell in those trunks now. Any other time, with me sitting on the ledge against the hot tub jets and him standing before me, I’d happily reach into them and withdraw his velvety cock for a sucking. Part of me wanted it in my mouth right now, to feel its girth widen my lips and my tongue swirling around his bulbous head, but there was something I wanted, had wanted for so long, to have even more.

  Slowly, quietly, he turned around. His wet, muscular back glistened in the bright sun, and I tried to calm the thunder in my chest as I ran my hands up his spine and around his waist, feeling him, adoring him. The roiling bubbles splashed along his hard and rounded calves, but the view of his thighs was spoiled by the way those trunks crinkled and clung unattractively around them. I decided to remedy this.

  Teasing myself, I ran my fingertips along the small of his back before curling them just under the elastic waistband. Jason stood perfectly still, knee deep in the hot tub, as I started to lower his trunks. When the seam between his cheeks revealed itself to me, I pressed my face close to his hot skin and rained tender kisses there. I darted my tongue across the crack of his wet ass, feeling the shape of him with it, as the trunks were tugged lower and lower until they were finally crumpled under his behind.

  I leaned back. I turned off the jets, and the water gradually stilled around us as I languished in the sight of my man’s perfect ass displayed before me. I felt incredible. Why had I waited so long, denying myself this moment, this pleasure? He is my husband, my man, and this beautiful ass of his is part of the deal. I felt like a queen of Egypt examining a newly acquired Greek slave for my own visual entertainment. I felt like a divine goddess casting approving judgment upon a male of the species whom I had just fashioned out of clay.

  Spreading my fingers, I gripped Jason’s ass widely and slowly squeezed until I could squeeze no more. I caressed him, smacked him, petted him, swirled my palms along his rib cage and down the breadth of his thighs before squeezing him again. Jason stood delightfully still, looking down at me from behind a shoulder, and then I noticed that his right arm was moving slowly.

  From someplace within me that I had rarely, if ever, felt before, I heard a stern tenor creep into my voice.

  “Just what do you think you’re doing?” I was the queen, a goddess, the keeper, She Who Takes Her Pleasure. You are mine. You will obey. You will serve my desires.

  “What?” He blinked his eyes a lot and stopped.

  “Get those hands of yours off my dick.” I gave his right cheek a loud, open-handed smack. I felt supreme. “Got that? My dick. Now bend over a little, boy. Put those hands to good use on your knees.”

  Jason tried to smile but any attempt at being sarcastic or making light of this was already a lost opportunity. His hardness revealed his commitment. He looked confused, and his eyes darted in every direction, but soon he found himself leaning forward slightly and resting his hands as instructed. I squeezed both cheeks and spread them open.

  Three years of marriage and never before had I really seen his anus; not like this. His smooth, honeyed skin contrasted with the auburn ringlet that crinkled around the tight rosebud before me. His full and tender balls hung handsomely in a round and firm sac, with the skin between them and his asshole simply begging for light caresses. Water beaded and dripped from his balls and the few manly hairs between his legs. As I sat behind him, still waist deep, I cupped those delicious balls in one hand as I brought my face to the crack of his ass and pressed it there, sliding my tongue between his sac and back door. He spread his legs wider for me. He groaned.

  I held his cheeks open again and darted my tongue across his warm, soft, inviting rosebud. He quivered and I could feel that his cock was twitching as it jutted forward into the sun and just over the water. My cunt was thrumming as I feasted on him, feeling my face pressed close. I wanted out of the tub.

  I stood up with a splash. Wrapping an arm around his chest, I made sure my breasts were firm against his back as I looked over his shoulder
to enjoy seeing how intensely stiff he had become. I wrapped a hand around his cock and tugged on it like a leash.

  “Come on, you,” I stated firmly and led him into the house, up the stairs and into the bedroom without ever letting go of it. He was speechless. When I gently pushed him into the adjoining bathroom, I grabbed a towel and threw it at him before stripping off my own swimsuit.

  “Dry me, boy.”

  Jason remained silent, and the look on his face was somewhere between trepidation and desire as he dropped his knees to the ceramic tile to run the soft cotton up my legs. He stayed there as I turned for him to dry my back. I reached behind myself, tugged his closely cropped hair, and brought his face to my cunt as I bent over and spread my legs.

  “Lick me.”

  Immediately, his tongue swabbed my swollen lips in wide, slow strokes, and I felt his face press right up against my asscheeks. His jaw tilted up and forward as he started to search inside my pussy, and I squatted for the best angle to grind my hardening clit against his chin. I used his face, and I could hear him gasping for air as he struggled to keep balance with his hands on my ankles.

  When I stood again and turned around, his face was glistening with my juice, his eyes were wide in anticipation, and he was panting. The wide head of his handsome cock…my handsome cock…bobbed against the cold tiles in gentle taps with each deep breath he took. It was almost purple and had swelled wider than I had ever seen it before, a silken mushroom bulb on the end of a deliciously thick, smoothly cut and throbbing stalk.