As I mentioned a few months ago, I am reading the Anita Blake series by Laurell K. Hamilton, which starts with Guilty Pleasures. Onto book 7: Burnt Offerings! I’m reading about 175 pages a week. Each week, I’ll be bringing you two posts: a review of the book and a related kinky post. This is my sexy story post!
#7 Burnt Offerings Part 1 (Ch 28-end)
A continuation of the previous story: Last week, my fictional character got into some public sex, or was hopefully about to. Even though Anita wouldn’t be into such a public display, it’s amazing how much we don’t realize we want until we get it. It’s fun to imagine, anyway. And, I will admit, even though Anita would not be into group sex like that, I (Jayden) definitely would be!
So many hands touching me, and all of them are soft. I want them to be hard. I want to feel it, deep down in my body. But they’re all being so gentle.
And then another hand, not a gentle one this time, touches me. He (I assume it’s a he, but it doesn’t have to be) slides his hands up my short, sheer skirt and, without hesitating, rips my thong off of me. The fabric sticks to my wet pussy and gets stuck between my legs. Someone rips it free of my body. The breeze that blows makes me shiver now. I feel very exposed, leaning up against a gravestone in a cemetery, blindfolded, wearing heels that keep me from being able to run, and now a very sheer piece of lingerie that’s all that’s keeping my body hidden from the world.
Is this actually what I wanted? I thought it was, but now… I don’t know. I might be naked soon. Naked and in front of strangers. Hell, they might not be strangers. I have legitimately no idea, and boy, is that idea hot.
The gentler hands pull away, and then the firm one is back, two hands now pressing into my hips, pulling me backward so that I’m further bent over, hands pressing between my thighs to spread my legs apart. The fabric of the dress is flipped up so my ass is exposed. I briefly wonder if he’s going to spank me, but he doesn’t. Instead, I feel fingers slide up into my pussy. I moan softly. I can’t help it. Having someone touch me like that feels amazing.
But then the fingers are gone, and I groan in protest.
And then they’re back, but not in my pussy now. Against my lips.
I part my lips and take the fingers inside, licking my own juices off of them. I don’t love the taste, but it’s hot to do it for the mystery person. I am pretty sure these aren’t my Master’s. I don’t know whose they are, but they aren’t his.
He pulls them back out and slides them along my slit again. I wonder if he’s going to do the same thing again, but he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers are probing my ass now. I can’t help but clench in response. I don’t want his fingers in my ass. I don’t. Or do I? I’m scared. Is he going to put just one or two? Is he going to try to fist me? I have no idea.
“Please,” I whimper, but I don’t even know what I’m asking for.
There’s no verbal response, but fingers slip inside my collar, pulling it tight, and I get the message. No protesting. I breathe heavily but don’t protest again.
He slips one finger into my ass, then another, then one more. I hope he’s going to stop there, and he does. His fingers work in and out of me, and before I know it, I’m thrusting back against the fingers. And then they’re gone.
I can’t help but groan. I don’t want them to be gone. They felt amazing. I want more. He presses them against my mouth again, and I take them in eagerly. God, I am such a dirty whore, but I don’t care. I just want more.
I feel a cock slide along my slit now, and I know it’s a man. The cock slides into my pussy, and I moan softly and press back against his long length. It feels amazing, but his cock is big. I only get a few thrusts before he pulls out, and I groan again. I wonder what he’ll do next, and I am not disappointed when his cock presses against my asshole. Definitely not disappointed, but definitely a little scared. This is a big cock to be inside my ass.
But then he’s in, buried to the hilt. I am moaning softly, and simultaneously want him to stop and also want him to start fucking me. But it’s not up to me. I squirm a little bit, impaled on his cock, and then he starts to move, setting the pace. It hurts, but his hands guide my hips and don’t give me a choice. And damn, it feels good.
It feels even better when hands start touching me again. Not just the ones he has on my hips, setting my rhythm, but also touching my nipples, pinching them. More hands touching my neck, pulling on my collar, stroking my skin. I am lost in the many sensations. I want more.
He pulls out just before he cums, I think, and I am rewarded with the sound of grunting and the feel of cum falling on my back. I breathe heavily, panting there in the moonlight. Is this it? Can I take my blindfold off now and see who the mystery man is?
But I don’t. I haven’t been given permission to, and I’m not about to disobey.
And I’m not done. Another pair of hands replace the ones that left me. Someone else guiding my hips back against a different cock. Here we go all over again, I think, and my pussy drips with arousal. I could do this allll night.
J R Vincente 