Never Enough, Part 2

Read part one of this story.

“What a fucking amazing body you have. He lays me down on the blanket, and lies next to me, propped up on one elbow, and gently runs his hand down my side. It tickles a little, his touch being so light, but it feels good, too. Then he brings his hand to one of my breasts, takes my nipple in his fingers, rolling it back and forth a little, and then a quick hard pinch, and I gasp from the sudden pressure. “You do like it rough, don’t you? he says, and he sounds a little concerned, like he’s taken it too far too fast. Not the case at all, but he doesn’t know that.

“Mmm, yes, very much.

“I’m not usually this rough, you know, not the first time, at least.

The only time, in this case, I think to myself.

Then he kisses me again, and he walks a trail down my body with his fingers, and then, there they are, on my clit, but my moans are silenced “ mostly “ by his lips on mine. He’s good at this, at fucking a woman’s clit, and I don’t want to come yet, but he forces me to, in only a few minutes, two of his fingers moving in deft, perfect circles, slow, then fast, then faster, and then I’m coming, my back arching up, and he swallows each and every sound I’m making with the force of his lips pressed against mine.

“Now it’s my turn, and he slams my legs apart, and climbs on top of me, sliding it in almost too quickly, and then I’m filled up with him, and my mouth is free to make whatever sounds it wishes, because he isn’t kissing me now, just staring at my face, a wicked smile on his. And soon, I have one to match, as he slides in and out of me, my cunt so slick and wet, and he fucks me, and he fucks me good. So good that it’s a blessing that no one can hear us, the street below one that almost never has people on it this time of night. I think for a second, though, of it being full of people, full of handsome, hot, fuckable men, all of them staring up here, hearing my sounds, and then they begin to undress, these imaginary men, and they’re climbing up the walls of the building, finding their way up to the roof, and one by one, each of them has his turn with me, some in my mouth, some in my cunt, and the really hot ones go straight for my ass. I’m full of cock for hours, for days, even, and all of them know exactly what to do. They know how best to please me, because they’re the men of fantasies, of dreams, the men who I jill off to nightly. Each of them is perfect, in his own way, some with high cheekbones, some with dark, stormy eyes, and each of them has a cock that wants inside of me, wants to fuck any hole it can find its way into, and these men know that all my holes are up for grabs, because I’m just that kind of woman.

And then I open my eyes, and I see that now I’m almost alone “ Zeb is the only one here besides me. It’s not that he’s not good, because he certainly is¦it’s not that his cock feels bad, because it feels amazing¦it’s not that he’s an awful lay, because I’ve loved everything he’s done to me, and with me, tonight. But one man is never, never, ever enough for me. I always invite these other men along, whenever I’m being fucked, because one man is never enough, not for a slut like me.

And then I know he’s about to come, and one final thrust and his body tenses, tight as a bow-string, and I grab his head and force his lips to my mouth, and now I am the one swallowing whatever sounds he would make, were his mouth free of mine.

He collapses on top of me, sweaty, happy, and he chuckles softly. He doesn’t know that only moments ago he wasn’t alone up here with me, that he was surrounded by men who all took their turn, and that he’s lying on top of a woman who’s actually drenched with come right now, her body sticky and wet from all the men who were up here, jacking off onto her while they ordered her to play with herself, to fuck her pussy with her fingers, to do whatever they asked her to do, because that was their right, and she was just their dirty little whore, their slut, their set of holes.

Zeb and I go back downstairs, and he makes up some silly story about having to go to work early the next morning. I smile to myself as I shut the door behind him. Right, that excuse. Not that I mind, not one bit, because tonight, soon after I climb into bed, and get out my vibrator, soon, there will be men to take his place, and I know they’ll do whatever he didn’t do. They’ll be here every single night, whether I’m alone or full of a cock that’s in this reality, not outside of it, though, where it’s full of many, many men, all of their cocks at the ready, like they always are without fail. This time, though, while I’m using my vibrator, I only have one man in bed with me “ the man who will be my date in two nights. Maybe this time I’ll find a way to invite my way back to his place, but there will certainly be a few other men invited to come along. Maybe, maybe, if I’m really lucky, he’ll have a hot roommate, one who will be happy to join him and me.

And so, in mere seconds, there’s a man who enters my bedroom, standing in the doorway for a few moments, watching Paul fucking me in my bed, and then this imaginary roommate of Paul’s climbs onto the bed, and together, they make me come so many times I can’t take it anymore, and then one last time, they force an orgasm out of me, just for being so naughty, for having one man not be enough. Because for a dirty, greedy slut like me, one never is.

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Maggie Morton

Maggie Morton's first novel, Dreaming of Her, is published by Bold Strokes Books - it's an erotic, lesbian, fantasy novel, and has a fair share of romance as well. Her gay, fantasy novella A Fairy's Embrace is published by Xcite Books, and her writing appears in various anthologies, including Eve's Big Bang, Kinky Girls, and Dark Desires. She lives in Northern California with her partner and their Japanese Bobtail.

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