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My boyfriend, Kyle, has the perfect cock. Really -- if there were cock models, the way there are hand and feet models, I bet he'd be making a fortune off his pecker. It's tall and poised and beautiful, sleek and strong, with light brown hairs curling at the base, as if a proud statue were rising from a vineyard. The first time I saw it I almost wept, but I resisted -- and quickly got down on my knees. I've worshipped his dick, literally, since day (or rather, night) one and am just as smitten with the member as the man even ten years down the road. Don't worry, he's equally as enthralled with my pussy, and together we've had countless sexual adventures. But lately, I've come to the conclusion that his package really is too perfect not to share. I mean, what kind of selfish, spoiled brat would I be if I kept such a gorgeous cock all to myself?
Just thinking about his cock makes me horny, but usually I have it buried inside me, somewhere, swelling to fit my entire mouth, cunt or ass, his hard length leaving me little room to think or look, I must simply feel him grinding against my sensitive flesh until he wrings me dry -- or, wet. I haven't told him yet, but I've been on a mission, a hunt. Every hot girl who passes my way, whether it's the waitress at our local vegetarian joint, with her long braided pigtails and ripped denim skirt and camouflage shirt that just hints at the curves underneath, or my boss's slamming secretary who I swear could make a killing as a stripper. She has flaming red hair, perfectly pink lips that she keeps natural or just hinting of gloss, and she wears these business suits that manage to be sexier than a bikini, her tits and ass practically popping out of their pinstripes. She gets away with her wild collection of stockings, in various hues with patterns and designs that could make even this confirmed straight girl lean down and worship my way from her feet on up. One time she even came back from a trip to England with black tights emblazoned with the Fab Four on them. Thankfully, our ad agency is pretty open to experimental dressers. She's never been anything but efficient and friendly, yet sometimes I detect a glimmer of something deeper, a womanly, sensual swirl to her hips; a gleam in her eyes that tells me she'd be perfect splayed across our bed with Kyle's cock spearing her over and over. But I know how badly that could go, so I move on.
Then she grants me a dazzling grin, showing off not just perfect even white teeth, but that the feeling is genuine, lighting up her whole face. I'd follow her anywhere if she'd give me another smile like that, and I know Kyle would too. We spend the rest of our workout time in close proximity, and I grunt extra hard as I push the weights with my legs, in part because my pussy is throbbing from my thinking about her sliding all over my boyfriend, brushing her breasts against his chest, her pussy hovering over his cock or his mouth, teasing him until he begs for mercy. I know it might sound weird to you, but I don't want a threesome. While fun for other people, they've always seemed to me like too much work without enough reward -- exciting, but not nearly as much so as watching this gorgeous woman devour every inch of Kyle. I want to watch him as I've never gotten to see him, his cock standing tall, his body at its most vulnerable as he strains toward her. I don't waste much time before bringing up the topic -- unlike the rest of the gym-goers, who huddle around the juice bar for a dark green kale-filled smoothie, we head to a real bar, and over massive margaritas, I start to gush about my sexy man. I even whip out my favorite photo of him wearing just shorts on the beach in Hawaii, his skin tan and gleaming, his erection faintly visible, if you're looking. She licks the salt around the rim of her glass, then brings her tiny tongue back into her mouth and sucks. "He's quite the hunk -- you're a lucky girl, Sarah," she says. "You know, you could be lucky too," I say, taking a big sip from the light green slush. "I don't seem to meet guys like that, no matter how hard I try," she replies, her voice slightly wistful as her eyes focus on something far away, or far behind. "No, I mean…" I trail off, putting one hand on her leg, lightly, as the words come to me. "You can share his cock with me." I look away for a minute, my cheeks burning even as I'm determined to share my fantasy with her. "I have this thing where I want to watch him with another girl. He's the hottest guy I've ever been with, and I just feel like his dick is too perfect to keep all to myself. We've been together, and faithful, for ten years. Believe me, he doesn't even know about this naughty little fantasy of mine, though I'm pretty sure he'll agree to it in a snap -- especially if you're involved. What's not to like? He'll get to fuck a beautiful girl, you'll get to enjoy what truly is the finest cock I've ever seen, and I'll get…well, I'll get to watch." I say "watch" like I'm winning the lottery or diving into an ocean of chocolate, like watching her and him together will be the pinnacle of my life thus far -- and I mean it. She drains her glass, her eyes seeking mine, making sure I'm for real. "But…why?" she asks, more confused than disdainful. "I don't even really know. It's not like it just occurred to me today. I've been having dreams where I'm lying in bed and he's on his back and some beautiful girl is moving all around him, exactly the same way I do. I start telling her how he likes his dick sucked, but then I realize she's got it under control." I pause, searching her face. "I know, most women would die of jealousy if their guy so much as kissed another girl, but I'm freaky like that. You can't have him, but I'd love it if you borrowed him for a night," I finish, not sure what she'll say. "Can I see it?" she asks finally, after a silence during which I try to look anywhere but at her. The bartender refreshes our glasses, and I fill my mouth with the icy drink before replying. "His cock? Sure -- I'll email you a photo when I get home." I lean in close, pushing her hair back as I let my lips brush lightly against her ear, getting a bit of a shock as I do so. "Your mouth's going to water when you see it, I promise." Carrie looks like she's trying to figure out what to say as she licks the newly salted rim of her glass. "Girl, I have to tell you, I think you're a little bit crazy. But so am I, and he looks so fine, I feel like I'd be kicking myself if I refused. He really doesn't know a thing about this yet?" she asks, her voice lilting upward. "Not yet, but he will," I say, slipping her my card as she scrawls her information on a napkin. We finish our drinks, but every time her tongue pokes out to lick the glass, I can't help picturing it winding its way along his cock. I'm ready to race home, and I do--right after she leaves, right after I sneak off to the bar's bathroom and bring myself to a quick, rousing orgasm as my fingers flick at my wet clit while my other hand muffles my moans.
"To a girl -- Carrie," I say, then go right back for another lick. He moans as I inch my lips downward, taking half of his length into my mouth, but knowing he's not done growing. "I'm going to show her how to do this," I tell him, breaking my mouth's grip momentarily before plunging back down in one smooth movement, my lips wrapped around my teeth as I feel his cock travel all the way down my throat. I keep his full length inside me for as long as I can, breathing in his manly scent, feeling every bit of him pressing against my lips, my cheeks, surrounded by cock, cock, and more cock. Finally I slide slowly, reluctantly upward, my cheeks already aching with that glorious effort my blow jobs entail. "What?" he asks, his voice husky, his eyes slightly cloudy as I stand and then straddle him, his naked cock bouncing back against him, then getting flattened between us as I rub my pussy along his hardness. "I'm going to give her a little show and tell, and then she's gonna fuck you and suck your cock while I watch. I'm gonna make sure she does it perfectly," I say, then quickly plant my mouth back on his pole, tasting my own heady juices. The whole scenario, from the feel of his hot penis in my mouth to picturing Carrie doing the very same thing, to his strangled moans has me soaking wet. When he pulls me up toward him, turning me around so my hips are hovering over his face, then starts to devour me as I swallow him, I relent, even though normally I prefer to do one thing at a time, fully savoring each sensation. As his tongue parts my lower lips; diving into my swollen, dripping sex; I shudder all over, my hard nipples mashed against his torso, my mouth slackening involuntarily as he pushes deeper inside. His hot tongue swirls in mesmerizing circles as I sink my lips down, down, down, until they meet the base of his cock, the head easing around the bend in my throat. His fingers ply my clit, parting the hood and massaging the hard button beneath as his tongue probes me, his lips and teeth and fingers making me rumble. I ease up on his cock, barely able to breathe, barely wanting to. When he adds a finger inside me alongside his tongue, I'm a goner, my entire lower half tightening and then sparking, my legs clamped around his head as I suck the crown of his dick for all I'm worth, rewarded by the hot spurts of come that erupt from him. He kisses me between my legs a few more times and then we finally turn around, and I taste myself, this time on his lips. Kyle looks into my eyes, smoothing my hair off my sweaty forehead, his fingers tracing my brows. "I'll give you anything you want, but I have to tell you, I don't think any girl out there can suck my cock the way you do," he finally says. "Just wait," I tease, my previously sated body already perking up again at the thought of Carrie grinding herself against my man. I move aside, looking up and down at the man I consider my personal male model, my own private piece of eye candy others may sometimes get to borrow as their eyes drink their fill while we walk down the street, but who I get to take home every night. Feeling him against me is still a thrill, a prize, a treasure, but sharing him is going to take things to a while new level. I just hope Carrie is as excited as I am. When I call her the next day, she tells me she had a dream about him, about us. "I was lying on my back, my hands above my head, and his dick was coming at me, so big and hard and powerful. I spread my legs at the same time I opened my lips and he entered me in one fast motion. I gripped the headboard, and pulled against it, and then you shackled me to it so I really couldn't move, and while he fucked my face I watched his cock as it moved in and out. Then I saw you, naked, with your fingers between your legs, and I tried to focus on sucking his dick while memorizing the way you were touching yourself so I could do it later." Her words spill out in one big outpouring, racing ahead of one another, tripping over themselves in her eagerness to share her fantasy with me. The more she talks, the wetter I get, picturing exactly what she's described. "I guess that means you're in," I tease her, knowing that I'd have a fight on my hands if I tried to refuse her at this point. After that, everything else moves at warp speed. For the next few days, all I can think about is watching Kyle and Carrie, directing them in my own little play, and the very idea of her naked along with him, in a scene that I'd created but ultimately would only be a bit player in, has the part of my stomach closest to my pussy doing somersaults, dropping as far as it does when I ride a roller coaster. My body literally aches, and the night before we're to meet, when Kyle slides a simple finger inside me, I pitch forward, burying my face in his shoulder as I clutch him, my eyes tight as I squirm. "You're thinking about me with her, aren't you, Sarah? I know you are, and damn it, now I am too. You've made me want to fuck another woman, and even though I'm doing it for you," he says, his voice rough, almost growling, as his finger surrenders to my cunt's entreaties, pushing as far as it can go while the flat of his hand mashes my clit. "I'm gonna enjoy it. I'm gonna shove my tongue so deep inside her cunt that she'll scream." I reach for his cock through the haze, each of us alternating a fantasy web with our dream girl. But as many scenarios as we've played out the night before, none of them could have prepared us for how hungry Carrie is for him. Any reservations she may have had have clearly vanished, because she pounces on my man immediately, as if they've been the ones conducting the secret affair, negotiating this night under cover of darkness, not her and me. I'm wearing a silky sheer black camisole and the tiniest scrap of black lace panties, which are soaked practically from the moment I put them on. I've kept them on me, though, letting my scent permeate the room, dipping my fingers inside to offer Kyle a taste of my juices as we wait. Then, all too soon, she's here, looking even hotter than she did when we met, au naturel in a slinky red dress that seems molded to her body. We converge in the living room where she greets me with a full body hug, her hands traveling from my shoulders on down, and then I hear her say, "And you must be Kyle." Unconsciously, I slip away, letting them get to know each other. I head to the kitchen to make cocktails, eavesdropping the whole while. Editor's Note: Part 2 of this story will appear in Eros Zine's next issue. You can purchase Caught Looking: Erotic Tales of Voyeurs and Exhibitionists at Amazon.com or, if you're in the San Francisco area, attend the upcoming Caught Looking Reading at Good Vibrations.
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