Madame B - Desire

The girl finally managed to tug the guy's dick free from his clothes. It bobbed bolt upright, thick and fat between his legs. Her hands closed around the length of his hard-on, and he tugged on his balls.

"Look at his cock," whispered Max. "Look how hard we made him get. Your tits. Your ass. Me fucking you. Me with my dick in your dripping cunt." Max's words were like dynamite to me, but I was too far gone to answer him, overwhelmed by what I saw and felt. My body alternated between vivid sensations and numbness as Max's dick rammed my G-spot over and over again.

The guy's hand was now down the front of his girlfriend's jeans. Maybe I was wrong about her; maybe she just wanted to feel his hand on her clit. I watched as his knuckles moved beneath her waistband. She was groping and grasping at her own tits, playing with her nipples under her T-shirt with one hand and tugging at his hard-on, massaging the length of it with the other. Max and I were transfixed by the man's dick, which seemed to grow bigger and bigger by the second. Through the window I could see the tip of his penis begin to twitch and moisten. I thought what a shame it was that I couldn't reach out and take his cock in my mouth, suck it dry of spunk.

Max had had his thumb in my ass the whole time he was pumping my tingling pussy. A shiver began in my pelvis and flowed along my limbs, numbing my arms and legs. Heat was radiating from my body as Max felt for my nipples and pulled my tits hard. I could take no more. It was time to submit to my orgasm. I yielded to a violent surge of contractions that sent pins and needles rushing all over my body. My pussy hugged Max's dick so tight that he reached his second climax in five minutes. I felt one, two, three sharp thrusts inside my still spasming pussy and then heard Max exhale deeply as he let go of my breasts and grabbed my hips to steady himself. I milked every drop of spunk out of that dick, and when it was finished, our juices mingled, spilling out of me, sticking to the front of Max's thighs, the pale liquid running down my legs and ass.

As our orgasms subsided, the girl on the other side of the window also came, and hard. A damp patch appeared between her legs and spread, darkening the fabric, as her knees trembled beneath her. When the guy felt her juices gushing onto his hand, he came, too, his spunk flying out of his dick in a perfect arc before hitting the window inches from my face.

I got off the bed, and, with my naked body pressed up against the cool, cool glass, pretended to lick his jizz off the window from the inside. The woman moved toward me and licked it off for real, hungrily sucking up her boyfriend's spunk. I saw her tongue and lips moving as she slid her mouth across the glass, and I mirrored her movements, miming a kiss. When her hands touched the glass where my breasts were, it was as thrilling as if she had placed her flesh against mine. She gave my nipple an imaginary flick, laughed, and then she and her lover zipped up, linked arms, and walked off into the night, glancing over their shoulders at the shop window before turning a corner and disappearing from our lives forever.

Max and I enjoyed one last intimate tender kiss in the shop window and returned to the shop to dress.

"That was the best present anyone's ever given me," he said, helping me back into my dress. "I don't think I've ever come so hard in my life."

"Me, too," I said, buttoning up his fly. As satisfying as the experience had been, my mind was still racing. I kept thinking about how sexy it had been when the girl and I were both pressed up against the glass. The fact that she was an anonymous stranger was the big turn-on, but part of me wished they had stuck around, that we had gotten to know them. We could have hooked up, all four of us. Something even more intense and amazing might have come of it. Before we left, I smoothed over the bedcovers and reset the security alarm. No one would ever know we had been there.

I went into work the next day and spent a restless morning daydreaming about what I'd done the night before. In the cold light of day, it didn't seem real. It seemed like an incredibly erotic film I'd watched rather than an experience I'd actually had. But a faint white smudge on the outside of the shop window reminded me that my public fuck had been very real indeed. All day, I made excuses to look at the shop window, focusing on the tiny smear and remembering the man's dick as he shot his spunk at the window and the girl's lips as she licked it off. My pussy pumped and swelled every time I replayed the image of it in my mind. I couldn't wait to get home, eager to take Max to bed, where we'd fuck again, retelling each other the most sensual parts of last night's adventure and talking about what it would be like to fuck in front of another couple again, and maybe have them join us. I watched the clock, counting down the minutes before I could be with Max, touch him, talk to him.

At five to six, I prepared to close the shop when two customers came in. Great, I thought, I'll never get home to Max at this rate. But as they came a bit closer, I recognized them. I saw a tall, good-looking man and a woman whose face had been pressed close to mine, on the other side of the glass.

Helen always thought of herself as polite and reserved. If you were being unkind, you might even call her uptight. Casual sex was certainly not on her to-do list when she and her friend toured southern Spain. But one balmy night at a fiesta in a tiny town near Gran ada, she found that even the prissiest girl sometimes needs a little Latin in her. It's nine p.m. and the sun is only just begin ning to set. A low red orb hangs in a streaky amber sky above the red roofs and white walls of this small Spanish town. In the street beneath our balcony, the local youths climb trees without ladders, throw each other strings of lights, wind them around the branches, and fix up banners between the buildings. All day people have been parading through the town, carrying statues and effigies, praying, marching, and singing beautiful, ancient songs that I don't understand but are evocative all the same. But now that the religious ceremony is over, the real festival is about to begin. I've been told that music will fill these streets all night, alleyways will throng with bodies, and the dancing won't stop until dawn.

I step back from the balcony into our hotel room. The city is dressing for the evening; I should, too. Lara is massaging after-sun lotion into her tanned, toned skin. As she smoothes the lotion into her limbs, they turn golden and glisten in the lamplight. Her task complete, she reaches for a white sundress that shows off her tan to perfection. I look at the long, dark hair that cascades to her bottom. She's as brown and beautiful as any of the local girls, and I know that she'll be the center of attention when we go out tonight.

I check my own reflection in the mirror: I am as pale as Lara is dark, skinny where she's curvy, nervous where she's confident, edgy where she's sensual. Lara has orgasmic sex with every partner she chooses; I have never come, never been able to relax that way, although I would never tell anyone this. I think I've been close a few times, felt butterflies in my stomach when I've kissed a boy, but those fireworks that Lara talks about? It's never happened to me. I guess some girls just aren't programmed to enjoy sex that way.

We've been traveling through southern Spain for ten days now, and while Lara fries herself in olive oil every day I've had to carry a parasol and smother my body in SPF 50. I have nothing to show for my time in the sun but a smattering of freckles on my nose. Well, that's not quite true: My already blond hair has been bleached almost white. Each fine, straight strand will look luminous tonight. I decide to wear the cobalt-blue sundress I've been saving for a special occasion. It makes my blue eyes, the only splash of color on my milky-white face, stand out. I may not have many assets, but I know how to make the most of those I do have.