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Excerpt for Kinky Erotica 4 - 4 Filthy Stories by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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KINKY EROTICA 4

4 FILTHY STORIES

Featuring stories from:

Scotty Diggler

Misty Rose

Taylor Jordan

Dirk Rockwell

Copyright 2018 by BS Publications

BS PUBLICATIONS

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

DISCLAIMER: These stories are intended for a mature audience only! Contains explicit, graphic sex and language, including rough and aggressive sex, dirty talk, anal sex, alpha males, bdsm, femdom, lesbians, threesomes, romance and more. Not intended for individuals under the age of 18 or those with a weak constitution. All characters are over 18

 

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

POUNDING THE NEIGHBOR BY SCOTTY DIGGLER

BANGING MY ROOMMATE’S BOYFRIEND BY MISTY ROSE

SEDUCING THE SALESMAN BY TAYLOR JORDAN

WHAT SHE’S ALWAYS WANTED BY DIRK ROCKWELL

 

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POUNDING THE NEIGHBOR

SCOTTY DIGGLER

 

It was almost 8PM on February 14th when there was a knock on Scott Thompson’s door. He was on his couch, eating pizza and watching BOOGIE NIGHTS, just as he had every year for the last five years on Valentine’s Day.

He wasn’t expecting anyone; Scott rarely had visitors and they never came over unannounced. He just wasn’t that kind of kind guy and neither were any of his friends.

He wondered who it was. A neighbor, maybe, looking to borrow some eggs? Or someone with the wrong condo? Either way he wasn’t real interested in answering the door. He’d rather just stay here on the couch and pretend like he wasn’t home.

Then the knocking started again, more insistently this time, like the person on the other side of the door knew he was home. After another moment of hesitation Scott decided to be civil and see who was there. He paused the movie, climbed up off the couch and headed over to the door.

He opened it without bothering to look through the peephole, and standing there, much to his surprise (which he was careful to keep off his face) was Britney Stevenson. She was dressed in a sleeveless white tee shirt that covered her legs nearly down to her knees. But not even the loose-fitting clothes could mask her rocking body; she could make painter’s overalls look good. And the lack of a bra didn’t hurt her cause either. Her long black hair was mussed and she was wearing very little makeup, both of which suited her just fine.

“Hey there,” she said.

“What’s up?” Scott said, playing it cool despite the butterflies in his stomach. They hadn’t done more than briefly exchange pleasantries since their crazy New Year’s Eve and he’d convinced himself that it had been just a one-night stand, never to be repeated again. Now he wasn’t so sure. But he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions and he certainly didn’t allow his hopes to get too high.

“Not much,” Britney replied. “I was just hanging out by myself tonight and figured you would be too, you know, based on your aversion to holidays.”

“Well, you guessed right.”

“So . . . are you going to invite me in?”

“Sure,” he said. “Come on in.”

Scott held the door open and Britney walked past him. He watched her as he closed the door, slightly saddened to see that her ass was covered up by the T-shirt. At least her shapely legs were a nice consolation prize. She sat down on the lounge chair and folded her legs beneath her, revealing nothing but panties beneath her T-shirt.

“You want something to drink?” he asked. “A beer? Some wine?”

“No thanks,” she said. “I want to see how things go when we’re sober.”

Before Scott had a chance to contemplate the meaning of this, Britney had moved on.

 “Boogie Nights, huh?” she said, glancing towards the television. “Are you a P.T. Anderson fan?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. You ever see There Will Be Blood?”

“Only ten times,” Scott said as he sat down on the couch across from her. “It’s one of my 2 favorite movies of all-time.”

“And the other one?”

“No Country For Old Men.”

“Ahh, the Coen Brothers. Good stuff, good stuff. I had no idea you had such good taste in movies. I should have known, though. You have good taste in everything.”

Scott laughed softly. “Like you’d know.”

“I know you have good taste in music,” Britney said.

“How do you know that?”

“You were listening to The Mars Volta on New Year’s Eve.”

“You remember that?”

She tilted her head and flashed him a little smirk. “I remember everything about that night.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” she said, raising her eyebrows a couple of times.

Scott wasn’t sure what to make of this but he supposed it was a good thing. After all, if she had remembered everything and was coming back for more, that certainly couldn’t be bad.

“But, back to your tastes,” she said. “We’ve got movies and music out the way—two of the most important ones, the way I see it—but it doesn’t stop there. I can see you have good taste in pizza. Round Table is my favorite. You have good taste in beer. Blue Moon on New Years. And wine too; I can see Silver Oak in your kitchen. And you certainly have good taste in women.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Scott said, laughing softly. “I’ve had some pretty shitty relationships in the past.”

“I’m not talking about your past relationships. I’m talking about your present one.”

“With who?”

“Who do you think?” Britney said.

“You?”

“No, the other girl in your living room.”

“You call fucking two months ago and then not talking to each until right now a relationship?”

“According to the strict definition, yes,” Britney said. “Of course, it’s not a traditional relationship, but I was led to believe you weren’t a traditional type of guy.”

“Fair enough,” Scott said. “So what kind of a relationship is it?”

“The best kind,” she replied. “One where neither party has any commitment to the other. One where there’s no emotions involved, no messiness, no stupid shit. One that entails getting together every once in a while and fucking our brains out in crazy, filthy, animalistic ways, sometimes drunk, sometimes sober, sometimes high, depending on the day.”

Scott looked at her for a moment. He had to admit, it sounded like the perfect setup. He certainly didn’t have any desire to be in a “normal” relationship; he just didn’t think he’d ever find himself in one like Britney was spelling out.

“And that’s the kind of relationship you’re looking for?” he asked.

“I’m sure as hell not looking for love,” Britney said. “Are you?”

“Not at all.”

“Then what do you say? Do you think you can handle just having meaningless, casual, incredibly nasty sex with me on a semi-regular basis without any threat of a deep emotional connection?”

Scott pretended to think about it for a moment. “I think I could probably handle something like that.”

Smiling, Britney climbed up off the chair and started towards him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said, looking up at her as she stopped right in front of him.

“Good,” Britney said. “Because I’m horny as hell.” She dropped to her knees and pushed his legs open and leaned in towards him and started undoing the button on his pants. Looking up at him with mock-innocence from down between his legs, she said, “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” Scott said, lifting his butt up off the couch so she could slip the pants off his legs. His dick was already starting to get hard. It wasn’t quite standing at attention yet but it was getting there.

“Now that’s the Scott Stevenson I remember from New Year’s Eve,” Britney said, taking Scott’s cock in her hand and stroking it. “Such a nice big cock. Do you still remember what to do with it?”

“Oh, I think I can figure it out.”

Britney laughed. “I’m sure you can.” She wrapped her lips around his cock and took it halfway down before popping it back out again. “With something this beautiful, I’m sure you’ve had lots of practice.”

 She went back to work on his cock, mixing it up like a pro, sucking on the tip while jerking him off, playing with his balls, and taking it nearly all the way down her throat while maintaining eye contact the entire time. It was an incredibly sloppy blowjob, with tons of spit; Britney obviously knew what she was doing down there.

After a couple minutes of blowing him, Britney leaned back and pulled her shirt off, revealing her perfect, perky tits. She took his cock and pressed it up against her chest, between her breasts, and proceeding to bounce on it, the saliva leftover from her blow job acting as a lubricant. Not quite a titty-fuck but it had the same effect. She was totally into it, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, her eyes locked directly on his.

Scott wasn’t sure if it was the look of pure intensity Britney was giving him or simply the physical sensation of what she was doing to him, but it was getting him way too excited for his own good. He needed to find a way to give himself a little break.

He grabbed ahold of her hair and lifted her head up off his cock, leaned forward, and locked his mouth onto hers. She enthusiastically kissed him back, and soon they were exploring each other’s mouths with sloppy intensity.

Scott grabbed ahold of Britney’s left breast and gave it a squeeze, then ran his hand down her flat stomach and started rubbing her pussy through her panties.

He marveled at how quickly Britney’s panties soaked through. Ten seconds, maybe less, and they were completely drenched. It was becoming readily apparent to him that this girl truly was a freak. A sex machine. And for some reason she had chosen him to be her little playmate. He decided that he had to do everything in his power to make her happy. Pull out all the stops. Make sure he satisfied her enough to keep her coming back.

Scott grabbed her by the legs, picked her up, spun her around, and dropped her on the couch, facing him. He then dropped to his knees, slipped her panties off, spread her legs, and started eating her pussy. Britney let out a surprised little squeal which quickly turned into a giggle and then into a moan of pleasure as Scott started going at it more aggressively.

He grabbed her legs and threw them back towards her, lifting her hips up a bit to give himself a little more leverage. Britney, experienced slut that she was, hooked her arms around the back of her knees, holding them in place up by her head.

Scott started off slowly, licking around the outside of her pussy lips, teasing her, tempting her, taunting her. After getting her nice and wet he started in on the pussy proper, lapping at her inner sweetness by running his tongue up and down the length of her snatch, penetrating it only slightly at first, then more deeply, flicking his tongue in and out, back and forth, licking and sucking and burying his face inside her, constantly moving, mixing things up, keeping her on her toes.

Every once in a while he’d venture a glance up the length of her perfect body to see her face in various stages of enjoyment; sometimes eyes closed, sometimes head thrown back, sometimes squeezing or sucking her own nipples. One time he even noticed her right hand was around her throat and her face was red from choking herself.

Scott filed this little nugget away for later and went back to work, moving his tongue up to suck on her clit and sliding two fingers inside her pussy. He curled his fingers and started rubbing them back and forth, sticking them further and further inside her until he found the rough, pebbly surface of her G-spot.

Britney gasped and her eyes shot open. A look of pleasant surprise flashed across her face, and she appeared to briefly view Scott in a new light, but her face quickly turned into a mask of intense pleasure as the purely physical sensation overwhelmed her senses.

“Right there,” she said, her voice a deep, breathy whisper. “Right fucking there.”

Scott went after her G-spot with enthusiasm, applying more and more pressure to it as he rubbed his fingers back and forth inside her as quickly as he could. His cock was still sticking straight up; it was just as hard as it had been while Britney was sucking on it. Something about getting a girl off excited him just as much as a girl getting him off. It had always been that way for him.

Britney’s pussy was gushing now and she was bucking back against his hand with her whole body, allowing him deeper penetration into her pussy. But the angle was starting to burn in his forearm, causing him to slow the pace just a bit.

“Don’t stop,” she growled at him. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Smiling, Scott slid a third finger insider her, eliciting another gasp and more frenzied bucking from Britney.

“You like that, huh?” he said, climbing up alongside her to release some of the pressure on his wrist and allowing him to go after her with even more force. “You like my fingers inside you?”

Britney nodded. Her eyes were wide and her face was flushed and her breath was growing ever more rapid as she rose towards orgasm.

“Tell me how much you like it,” Scott said, gently taunting her, relishing the power he had over her.

“I fucking love it,” Britney said. She was barely able to get the words out she was so worked up.

His smile growing wider, Scott slammed his fingers into her a few more times, until she was right on the verge of cumming. Then he gave her one final thrust of his fingers and held them there, deep inside her, filling up her pussy, pushing his fingers up against her as she squeezed her muscles against them.

Britney’s body started to shake and a low moan escaped from her throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she cried as her body tensed, her pussy squeezing even tighter against his fingers for just a moment before releasing a flood of juices that ran over his hand and started down his arm.

Scott immediately started to go back to work on her with his fingers but Britney grabbed his arm and pulled it out of her. With her hand wrapped around his wrist, she brought his hand up to her face and stuck his fingers in her mouth. Her other hand ventured down to his cock and started slowly stroking it.

“Enough of the foreplay,” she said after licking his fingers clean of her juices. “I want you to fuck me with that fat cock of yours.”

“Are you sure?” he said. “Because I can do this all night long.”

“Maybe some other time. Right now I need you inside of me.”

“If you insist,” Scott said. He threw her legs open and slid in between them. With his cock in hand, he guided it towards her snatch, pausing one last time to tease her for just a moment by slapping it against her pussy lips a couple of times before sticking it in.

Britney’s pussy was still soaking wet from before, allowing Scott’s cock to slide in with ease despite its size. She let out a long breath as he entered her, followed by a low moan of pleasure.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” she said, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and pulling his head down towards hers until their faces were mere inches apart. “I love having your cock inside me.”

They stayed like that for a little while, face-to-face, staring into each others eyes while Scott fucked her with long, slow strokes. Then they started to kiss, slowly and passionately at first, their tongues moving in each others mouths, exploring and tasting each other in ways they hadn’t done so yet, in ways that fucking each other didn’t allow.

In many ways, kissing was more intimate than having sex, and for Scott it was just as exciting, if not more so. He’d often found that making out and moving slowly against his partner was the surest way to arriving at orgasm more quickly than he wanted to. He’d learned that in order to last longer, he needed to fuck faster, harder, more aggressively. If things continued in the direction they were going he wouldn’t have much time until he was going to explode. And he didn’t want that. Not yet.


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