The 73rd Virgin – Terrorists Whore

Do you know that voluptuous, round and full breasted, dark eyed girls like me will be fucked forever? Now you know. Can you imagine that? Having your pussy dripping wet and fluttering like a butterfly for eternity?

My pussy is appetizing – it puckers when it smells testosterone from a thousand miles, it’s so wet but tight enough, thanks to Kegel exercises, and it throbs like the beating of my heart. I have Googled what appetizing vaginas have over the others, and I made a startling discovery: it is for the 72 virgins, houri, who would be given to terrorists in heaven.

Sex Tip of the Week: The Games

Life is too short to live it somberly  Go for it. Do all the craziest things you want. That’s where the games come in.

And I’m not talking of Olympian Games in honour of Zeus. Four years is very long time to wait to have fun.

The bedroom is not the only room in the house where sex should be done. All rooms are erotic venues. It is too boring to make love in the bedroom, in bed, only.

Have bathroom fun with lit scented candles, hot baths and everything erotic imaginable.

Shower games: play around in the shower; masturbate my throbbing pussy to orgasm with jets of warm water as you give my burning body a sensual massage. And oh, I love cunnilingus under the shower. You take it further and I might just reward you with a bend over. 

Sharon's Snake

I felt him plant himself in my rear opening. Well, I’m not being euphemistic here. Let me blunt – he planted himself in me from the rear. Not in my ass hole. I am not an ass girl.

He turned round and supported his over-masculine body on the palms and on the tip of the toes. He began to make come-and-go movements as well as circular ones; on my ass. Jeez, he was now pushing it.

But I was not to stay passive. You can’t have such a sensual style while fucking your best friend’s boyfriend and fail to respond with soft movements of the pelvis.

As though it was a ritual he procured for me an extraordinary massage of my G-spot. Trust me, I couldn’t resist the stimulation, nor would any other woman, without having a profound orgasm, a non-ejaculatory orgasm.

I knew he knew ways of the Kama Sutra when he stopped moving and focused his lustful attention somewhere else.

It worked. I felt all my self-will and restraint fail as the sexual energy that I had chained because of the love and care I had for my best friend sublimed.

That was before Sharon announced from the living room that she was home.

Copyright © Rati, 2014.

Double Ass

When I started hawking my pussy in the streets for anyone, and any thing, that paid, I was ready to go to any extreme to earn that extra shilling.

Well, as is the rule, the client pays for my services – blowjob, strip teasing/dancing, sex and all – and they get their money's worth (no change or balance), but if they want more or anything unconventional, I charge extra. Those are the terms and conditions. Such desserts come with a bonus from the boss. He watches everything we do from his upstairs voyeur room equipped with screens fed live by discreetly concealed cameras from all rooms.

One of the lucrative bonuses is double ass, two cocks in your ass.

So, after going for about two hours with two guys (MMF), all imaginable sex positions and styles tried, one of the guys went for my ass.

Piece of cake; it was not the first time I was doing anal, and I offered for the mere fact of the bonus. What? I don't like those eyebrows I see rising on me. That's what keeps me the envy of the average girl (luxury), buys me shoes, and pays for my bills, salon and all.

At first I did not know what they wanted, but when one of them inserted his cock in my ass and laid back, me on top, spreading my legs as far as they could go, it did not occur to me they wanted a double ass.
The other guy positioned himself on top of me and I thought he was going for the pussy, as in cock in ass, another in pussy, I sandwiched between them. Instead, he went for the ass.

Slowly by slowly, I felt my ass being torn asunder, the walls crumbling down and…. A tremor ran through me. What I felt words alone can't describe, but that's the last thing I can remember before darkness besieged me.

When I came to, I was at the hospital (guess the boss still wanted me to mint him more money!).



Copyright © Rati, 2013. All Rights Reserved.

Private Party

(Diary of a Rookie Hooker)

Friday 16;

The sleek car (Land Cruiser/Prado), I bet had seen it on KTN TV's Motor World (there were only ten of those in the country, designed by David Beckham's chick and cost a whooping twelve million shillings, what did they call it? Land Cruiser Evoque?) slowed down and pulled up at the kerb.

Just as I'd been tutored, and rehearsed, I walked up to the car, leaned forward sure that I was exposing the required cleavage. The man in the backseat (the kind of guys the state keeps classified for national security reasons) feasted on what I was offering and nodded in approval.

The door opened (electrically) and I slid in making sure that the garb that advertised I was peddling my pussy shrank and exposed the black lacy lingerie that was beginning to drench in perspiration and vaginal fluids.

My butt felt as though it was being massaged electrically (thanks to David Beckham's girlfriend's designer genius of the seats); and I bet my heart was palpitating as the pussy was flattering in anticipation.

I felt man's hand caress my thighs, and at that moment my mind wandered in the foreseeable future.

Girls on K Street are not just prostitutes out to eke a living. There are also opportunists, mostly campus girls out to make that extra shilling (besides their Rich Dad's, Poor Dad's measly pocket money) to buy them Gucci and Armani stuff just like everybody else.

I knew that the ball, no pun intended, was on my court. If I played well, and this stinking rich honcho liked me enough, I might end up starting my own law firm and kiss the streets goodbye. Who wouldn't?

I had joined the 'Campus Divas for the Rich Men' club and was on three months' probation before I was connected to the real rich guys (K Street was the Red Sea where one's initiative parted the waters either to cross over to financial immortality or forever hawk your cunt for scraps) and become a decent escort for diplomats and dignitaries (ticket to going around the world in 80 days).

I felt his hands touch my inner thigh, hesitate a bit before touching my burgeoning vulva. A floodgate opened somewhere inside me and arousal liquids were like Thomson Falls where my eighteen years' virginity had been taken by the campus Casanova while on a research excursion.

I gave the man the eyes that I had perfected the look on mirror suggesting 'I'm all yours boy'. He parted my legs and knickers to create way to my dripping wet vagina, parted my already opening labia and toyed with my mound. I felt ripples go through my body partly because I couldn't take any more without screaming my head off and partly because a demigod worshiped by the public was showing another side of him very few people knew, and were to know.

I reached inside his trousers and got hold of his rock hard penis. God, he was so big that for a moment I thought he would tear me asunder permanently. His shaft was so hot that my hands felt like they were being scorched. I couldn't wait to lay my eyes on it.


"Suck me," he told me.

I unbuckled his belt, ripped open the zipper and extracted his twitching cock from his (not counterfeit) Calvin Klein briefs. I got hold of it at the bottom, moved my hand up and down, then bend over it and put it in my mouth. I made slurping sounds as I moved it from side to side in my mouth, occasionally spitting on it, lubricating, moving my hand up and down then putting it back in my mouth.

A moment later, I felt his body tense. He grabbed my now loose hair and tried to swallow tiny gasps and moans that escaped his mouth. I tasted his pre-cum and I was about to stop, to allow him to cool down a bit, when he said, "Don't Stop."

Really, that's what you want horny guy?

I flicked, rollicked, sucked and nibbled his throbbing giant dick that was slowly growing bigger and bigger as my pussy willed him to hammer it like all hell had broken loose.

Without warning, he thrust inside my mouth, almost to the back of my throat, but choke reflex was overcome by my intent to pleasure him, make him give me his business card and then lolly would be like confetti.

As though it were lollipop, I sucked and sucked, and before he could thrust again, I frolicked the glans with my tongue. Just then, his hold on my hair tightened and he spewed a hot, creamy liquid into my mouth.
I guzzled the copious juice faster than his state-issued Passat and Merc guzzled petrol (include the Evoque there), his heart beating faster.

There was a vibration somewhere and he reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a sleek iPhone.

"I'm on my way," he said and hung up.

Just where were we going? I wondered.

An instance later, my question was answered when the car pulled up outside a large Hollywood mansion I saw on Fabulous Lives of Filthy Rich Billionaires. My razor sharp mind deducted that we were at one of the city's secret sex dens for the damn rich only.

"The party is about to begin," he told me as he zipped up his trousers. "Let's party to the grave, shall we?"

The car doors opened and, after I'd made a quick tidy up, we stepped out. To my consternation, the car park was a bazaar of luxury cars – Mercs, Cadillacs, Passats, Range Rovers, a Lamborghini and I bet I spotted a Ferrari.

The surprise of the week awaited me when we entered the house, what I deduced to be the parlour. It was full of masked people, all nude, in different sex positions and styles; mating noises a cacophony of cooing and howling at different stages of crazy sex – a lady moaning softly, another saying "Fuck me! Fuck!", one commanding to be fucked faster and harder and another screaming her head off "I'm Coming."


It was nothing like I had ever seen before.

I was jolted from my trance by my client's voice telling me to undress.

At desperately record time I was naked, his big, rock hard dick forcing its way into my trembling pussy. He took me from behind, began to pound and clobber my cunt so hard that I felt myself tear inside, as in hymen being torn apart. Talk of secondary virginity being broken.

I felt him thrust harder, and faster, and an earthquake originating from me.

Guess the party had started.


 
Copyright © Rati, 2013. All Rights Reserved.

ATM

It was my first time to do a threesome – two girls, one guy (MFF) – and my lifetime fantasy. God, it was fabulous.

I am heterosexual, something that I find sometimes thrilling, with sadomasochistic and bisexual tendencies bordering on lesbianism. I've had a girl kiss me, but that's as far as it went. 

When my roommate's guy paid her a visit and Stella asked we offer the guy too much cherry than he had hoped for, I said yes.

Well, Stella and her guy perform these wild sex acts I can never imagine – anal, erotic asphyxia, BDSM and all (she tells me after he's long gone). I am not that wild in bed.

We started girlie, and he joined later when I was stooped over licking Stella's pussy as though my whole life depended on it, frolicking and flicking her swollen clit like lollipop in my mouth. God, I was so horny and hungry for a bang, the arousal aggravated by Stella's fingers in my cunt and the mating sounds that filled the room.

Another pair of hands grabbed me from behind a moment before a hard penis was inserted into my dripping wet pudenda. As he began hammering me from behind, Stella's hands on my boobs and our mouths tongue-twisting, I felt my whole body tremble. I had never felt so much pleasure course through me. It did not even take long before my body convulsed in orgasm, squirting on both Stella and her boyfie.

As the lips of my pussy fluttered like a butterfly, raining squirt, Stella's boyfriend put his head between my thighs from behind and collected the entire squirt in his mouth. He then poured it into Stella's waiting mouth, before coming back to me. This time round his rock hard cock trailed the furrow from the vagina to the anus and felt him try to pry open my ass.

"No way!" I screamed. That was as far as I could go, as far as I was getting with this sexcapade. "Ass? No." and I meant no. It's easier to contract HIV/Aids when ejaculated into your ass, plus I couldn't imagine how on earth I'd let a dick inside my anus and suck it (even if it was washed with JIK).

Stella and I switched positions. She bent over my still wet pussy and sucked it, licked and pulled while her boyfriend clobbered her ass.

"Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass! Yes! Yes!" was all what Stella was saying. "I like it, babe. Yes, babe. Yes, yeah……. Yeaaaahhhh, yeaaaaaahhhhhhhh…."

I played with my nipples, kneading them with my hands while Stella's sweet mouth did wonders to my clit and pussy.

I saw Stella's boyfriend's pectorals twitch, biceps spasm and at the same time increase his ass-lumbering speed. It was a though Stella's voice was crashing into my cunt.

"Aaarrgh! Aaargh!" screamed Stella's boyfriend and I knew he was about to come.

Would he ejaculate in her ass? I wondered.

But just before the thought formed in my mind, he withdrew and came to where I was. Before I knew what he was after, he put his throbbing penis into my mouth and released.

Jeez! That was disgusting. And he expected me to guzzle his egg-white fluids. There I was, having a penis that a moment ago had been ramming down Stella's ass, inside her anus, being pushed into my mouth notwithstanding my disgust of sucking one that has come from my own ass!

A wave of nausea swept through me as I tried not to throw up, a moment before Stella said, "That's ATM, Ass-to-Mouth," she said, taking one of my tits into her mouth. "Hope you enjoyed it."

Copyright © Rati, 2013. All Rights Reserved.

Bruised Petal

(Diary of a Jewish Sex Slave story)

Friday 13th, September;

After a week of being sold and resold to willing buyers since my kidnap from our home in Neve Tzedek, I ended up in an unknown mansion of obscenity being a statistic in the world's most lucrative, and secret, business of sexual slavery and human trafficking.

Together with other girls, mostly my age, others even younger, stood naked before a horde of lusty looking men with sex-maniacal saliva drooling at the corners of their mouths. A goliath of an overly-muscled pimp, or maybe he was a man-whore, went around like a parade commander inspecting a guard of honor inserting his fingers into our cunts testing the tightness of our pudendum
.
Of all the thirteen girls I was the only one who was chosen (I guess I was the only one with a tighter squeeze) to be his, or some other chimp's, flesh-light for the night (at the same time mint money for the house).

I was taken to a room where my virginity that I had virtuously kept for sixteen years was to be brutally taken. My oh-so lovely mother's words of how those worth plucked the petal with dignity evaded me as the horrors of bruised petal plucked hastily debilitated me.

Claw hammer hands grabbed me and the next thing I felt was my legs being spread before a log of a penis split me into two, drilled full length into my pubescent vagina forcing me open from orifices I even hadn't known existed.

"Roll her on top," a new voice commanded.

Once on top, the animal beneath kept on drilling my now profusely bleeding pussy, making obscene noises.
Instantly, my body jerked forward and pushed to lay chest-to-chest with the ape beneath. That's when the worst happened – another stump of maleness forced its way into my ass and then lights went out.

 
Copyright © Rati, 2013. All Rights Reserved.

For the Love of a Slave

(Diary of a Punjab Slave story)

This 19^th day of January, 1870;

In the house where I was owned and was to live I was tasked and given the duty of attending to dishes and dusters and cooking for the Prabhu.

           

The young Prabhu used to come and sit in the corner of the kitchen that I put not a thing saying not a word to me but feasting his eyes on me when I cooked, washed dishes and moved around the kitchen in bare feet.

           

But me never looked him in the face though I secretly looked at him when I was further away, abashed he was looking at me; and when he decided to break his vow of silence or asked me something I answered in indistinct words and unfinished sentences, but delighted to be in his company. He was that good to me I started longing he come from morning and stay at his silent corner through the before and after of the noon to evening.

           

William showed so much kindness to me and as though he had made a discovery of that which ranked as my delight used to come often and walk with me to the gardens and fields. If not for some unbeknownst reason I thought of him in the ways I had been taught of the Kama Sutra, but I was Dalit and he was not of supposition to touch me or feel for me in courtship or any congress, this I was warned Harijan do not possess the pleasure.

            Then one day he came to the stable where I rested and informed me of his reason of being that good to me not like his father and others. He made confession of his feeling existing for me and was of wishing to court me.

            "In what manner thou intents to accomplish that while I am a Daas and Dalit?"

            It was of great surprise to hearing of his profession and wishing, but I was Harijan even though I was of the same wishing and dreaming.

            He then started coming every night when others were sleeping and could not hear of his night undertakings.

            Me who was well versed with the teachings Vatsayayana was of knowing of what to be done. When this day he came and touched me in embracing and kissing, my whole body ached with desiring for congress. My yoni cried rivers of pleasure wanting and my bud nodded in agreement, opening the lips of my yoni to look for lingam.

            Daas I was evaded me and brought forgetting I was desiring my Prabhu. Reaching for him I untied his white man's clothes. The head of his lingam touched my hand just for a moment and my whole body melted.

            His big lingam twitched faster and harder in my hand and I who was from Punjab knew the art of Auparishtaka well. I bend unto his loins and extracted the length of his lingam in my hand and guided it to my mouth. That which was dictated by Vatsayayana in the Kama Sutra of the congress of the mouth I did and William was happy. In his blue eyes of the white men was the willing for congress.

            I knew I was Mrigi (Deer Woman) and I lay on my back, raised my hips and thighs and opened my legs as much as they could open then touched and opened the lips of my hungry yoni and told William to enter me even if just for an instance.

            William's phallus filled my yoni completely, leaving no space unoccupied. I felt each and every minor movement his lingam made inside me, feeling every aperture and faucet of my womanhood being torn asunder and tickled all at the same time.

            My legs rested on his shoulders with his lingam moving in and out slowly. I pulled them to my chest and crossed them opening the hole with the lingam more and William plunging deeper like he was getting into my stomach.

            I grabbed his buttocks and pulled him to me, willing for him to stay there a thousand years like Kama and Sutra have been making love. At that instance his thrusting provoked my Kundalin Shakti.

            This very night we engaged in congress till the rays of dawning speared the sky and birds were singing sweetened songs in melodies and tunes only them understood when William sneaked out and went to his house.

            That morning he did not come to his silent corner in the kitchen. I felt so lone and missing his company not because I wanted him to watch me but because the memory of yester night made my trembling yoni dance like a dervish.

            When I was ready to serve them with the meal to break their fast I heard a heating quarrel in the main house and I stopped and listened. It was William and his father, my Prabhu.

            "You think I don't know about you and that slave bitch?"

            "Don't call her that. She deserves respect, dad."

            "Says who? She's just a slave."

            "Yes, and I want to buy her. Sell her to me. I'll pay anything…"

            "And what are you buying her for? The work or the pussy?"

            There was a commotion at that sudden moment. When I peered I saw the prabhu on the floor using his hands on the face as shield. I realized what had happened – William had boxed his father.

            That day in the evening a new buyer bought me and was handed me as his property.

 

Copyright © Rati, 2013. All Rights Reserved.

Fucker and Fucked

“Let's do it again,” she said, staring at him in the eye. “I was so horny for you I didn't even see it coming. I'm now even hornier.”

“Your wish is my command, Mademoiselle," he told her.

“Yeah, because you've got no otherwise than to fuck me till I scream my head off."

 “Rita, I want to fuck you than you've ever been fucked before."

"And how do you think you gonna accomplish that feat?"

"Through this," he said as he forced his rock-hard dick into her hole from the rear. Just as he tried to push himself inside, he felt himself expand and throb her insides harder, something she welcomed by not really screaming her head off, but screaming all the same.


“Yes, yes, yes, yes. Fuck me! Fuck me! Yeaaahhhhh, yeeahh. Fuck me. Yes, yes, yes," she cried.

The hammering inside her was touching something inside her that send rivulets of sensation all over her ass, cunt and boobs before dissolving and seeping to the rest of her body.

"Yes, there babe. Fuck me there. Yearrrrrgggggggghhhhhh. Faster, faster babe! Faster!" she commanded him and sure as hell her wishes were his commands.

As she continued to tell him what to do, he decided to give her the titillating pleasure of the century. Hadn't he told her that he would fuck her than she had never been fucked before?

His hands trailed the furrow from her luscious ass up the spine in slow, calculated movements. This not only increased his desire for her but also hardened his erection inside her hot, dripping wet cunt.

Her boobs that were making slow dance motions like pendulums as she was receiving the fuck of all time, filled and ballooned when she felt his hand cup them and she almost collapsed from the pleasure the act alone brought.

Unbeknown to her, he had something in mind – his one hand compressed her chest while the other went for her neck. Being a rogue medical student he knew the autonomy of human body like the back of his hand. He felt for and found the carotid artery and  compressed, as in strangulation or hanging, and released just in time as Rita's ass and vagina walls constricted and tightened gripping his cock like rubber.

He knew that he was doing it right.

Rita felt something disengage from her brain, some muscles she had never known existed went slack and a feeling like electric shock went through her body. Without even realizing it, she felt her vagina jerk as though it had been pricked, her ass hole and every other pore that had been open to receive Jimmy's ravenous fucking close and open spasmodically.

She felt giddy and lightheaded coupled with cosmic pleasure that tickled, if not feathered, her labia. It was as though Jimmy had sprout antennae and tentacles and was using them as hands to give her pleasure from all over her body. She felt as though she had got a dozen vaginas and she was being masturbated my mysteriously soft hands all at the same time.

Just at that time images danced in front of her, images of angels and demons all fused in lovemaking. She felt aloft and catatonic, levitating and going up and up in heaven as though she was being pulled by a pulley.

She floated in the heavens and in the expanse of the snowy quilt that was cloud nine she saw the gates of hell and heaven open at the same time. A flood of luxuriating waters flowed towards her just in time to quench the fires of hell that were rolling to her like fireballs.

The orgasm was archetypal, rhapsodic and well, ecstatic as though she was high on cocaine. Never mind she dealt. God, she wanted to feel that way forever.

But well, she did scream her head off. She must have said "I'm Coming" more than a millions times before she really said, "Oooooooooohhhhhhh!!!!" as all the banks of her womanhood burst open and the squirt flooded their dingy room of obscenity.



Copyright ©Rati, 2013.

CHAT Awards

Chaguo la Teeniz (CHAT) Awards is a Kenyan annual event where teens nominate and vote for their favourite celebs – musicians (both secular and gospel), TV and radio personalities, comedians and local actors.

Dudes and dudettes at the height of teen hominess flock in numbers on the material day to see their favourite yet elusive celebs – faces confined only to TV screens, YouTube, radios and newspapers and magazines – get autographs, pose for photos with them and even flirt and dart if the chance presents itself.

I had just finished my Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education (KCSE) exams and the sudden freedom from the no-nonsense Mrs. Ombie and strictest parents on the planet was almost debilitating – as it should be for a teenager who’s become a miniature citizen.

When the day came I snuck out like Christina Milian in her song A.M. to P.M. I was garbed in the latest, outrageous outfit in town – my pastor would have said Evelyn Adamson was decent in the Garden of Eden before the infamous fall from grace; blame it on fashion – and so was everybody else, especially those who had body and booty to show.

I heard the music before I saw the musicians at the Kenyatta International Conference Centre (KICC). The press of ecstatic teenagers was like one body as the local stars regaled us with their heavy, syncopated street beats and lyrics.

I managed to squeeze my way to the front – amid angry snorts and off-the-book insults with the word ‘biachi’ thrown in occasionally – when it came for the infamous ‘Bend Over’ dance style guys to perform. I found myself on the dance floor – bending over – without any idea in hell how I got there. It had not occurred to me that the whole world (just Kenya) was watching and dad, with his convoluted military idea of discipline, was gonna murder me.

However, who cared? It was actually my eighteenth birthday and as far as I was concerned I was an adult. I danced in the gleeful swell of the music, no cares in the world.

 Then, I noticed something weird happening – my body was feeling strange as one of the musicians rubbed the front of his trousers against my bum. It was an unfamiliar thrill, a tingle all over my body that spiked and intensified before coalescing into a sharp, damp heat, right between my legs.

I gasped as he pressed harder, slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me more firmly to him. Instantly, I made another discovery – there was stiffness in his trousers, below the belt.

Gosh! He was aroused.

I did not know when the music ended because my body was whirling, head swirling and heart twirling, beating over two-hundred beats per second. I remember letting the guy lead me backstage, to the changing room.

“Yo’ uh one good dancer,” he told me, making sure his Jamaican accent was prominent. “Would’ya like catch some air, babe?”

Like he had read my mind.

We went outside to the parking lot. It was all too obvious where he was taking me.

My knees felt weak, as if my legs refused to support my feather weight. He took my hand and all I felt was his hardness against my softness.

He cupped my face, and then pressed his dry lips against mine. His tongue probed, and I patted my lips. The tongue slid deeper into my mouth.

His hand found my breasts and cupped them. I cried out, a tiny gasp that surprised me. He stroked, caressed and even nibbled my nipples. The feeling blazed up and down my spine, and frothed between my legs.

“Yo’ a beautiful,” he told me.

Layer upon layer of sensation choked me, and I felt champagne bubbles sizzle to wetness in my thong.

Hardly had I felt my insides throb, a twitching that was faster than my heartbeat, when I felt myself slump into a leather soft cushion.

“I wan’ yo’ badly,” he said.

He did not need to, though. I was too willing to grant permission. Every part of my body was screaming ‘I want a piece of this guy’ so loud that I could hear nothing else. As his fingers trailed my inner thigh, my flared micro-miniskirt granted unobstructed access.

His mouth engulfed mine for the umpteenth time burying the whimpers that kept escaping my throat. I was all wet, drowning in my arousal, when I felt the unmistakable hard length of his penis against my vulva, teasing my slowly opening labia. I could feel that I was drenched down there, and I opened my legs wide, so ready for the much talked-about first bite of the serpent of Eden that it ached.

I surprised myself by lifting my hips towards him, and his hard, hot shaft fell into position, right where it should be – between my legs.

I writhed beneath him as he hammered my hot, blunt opening, forgot the pain of his entry against my slowly disintegrating hymen. His thrusts grew faster, his breathing heavy.

The hot wavelets of sensation that were hitting my clitoris ran through the rest of my body at the speed of light, seeped down my bones and thawed away the  ice that had frozen for eighteen years, leaving me limp, damp and utterly spent. I held onto him, enjoying his heaviness against me, the strange dampness seeping out of me and the lassitude that pervaded.

Just as I began to drift away, I heard the familiar clatter of high heels on asphalt.

“’Tas ma’ man,” an enraged Jamaican female voice yelled. “Get o’ ma’ man, bitch.”

And so it was that I got much more than an autograph.


Copyright © Rati, 2013. All Rights Reserved.

Madame of the House

It is one thing to be courageous, and it is another to be outrageous.

That’s how it was that day, the day I will forever keep etched on my mind.

She is the madam of the house, the owner of the massage parlour established for her by her Mafioso husband. You know what happens with these Mafia guys – cross the line and you are dead meat, you vanish off the face of the earth without a trace.

She is tall, willowy; big, full breasts that you couldn’t fancy on her body and a waist of a Michelangelo’s carving. Her shoulder length, tar black hair is like the sliver of the moon, and she always smells nice – frangipani and jasmine. Talk of beauty embodied.

But untouchable.

She too knows this. If, and God forbid, one dared live cremation is a mild comeuppance. Moreover, she couldn’t allow it, of that I was sure, no chance in hell. She burned with passionate love and commitment to her Casanova Mafia husband.

As her husband’s head of security I access areas out-of-bounds to many – like going to her private room at the parlour where she plays Peeping Tom watching the shenanigans of authoritative public figures, high ranking government officials and politicians on a bank of screens live from high-power miniature cameras concealed discreetly in each room of vanity and profanity.

I was sent by the boss to fetch her – her presence was needed at the business meeting that was going on on the parlour’s patio.

I stirred as I opened the door when she feebly said “Come in.”

There she was – the woman of my dreams, in reality. For an instance I wanted to bury my head between her breasts, breath in the fragrance of her hair, caress the softness of her skin and explore the treasures between her legs – all forbidden fantasy.

Instead, I said, “Your presence is needed at the negotiation table outside” and turned to leave.

“Not so fast, security boy,” she said giving me the wink and a pout of her scarlet lips.

She came to where I was, pressed her lithe figure against me, and the next minute I felt her hands inside my pants. I wasn’t surprised I was already aroused. However, I felt the erection growing, hardening, in her soft hands.

I also made another earth-shattering discovery – I was as fearful as I was aroused.

I felt my trousers fall down my knees; her hand cupped my scrotum, and then trailed a single nail along the underside of my rock hard shaft, from base to tip.

“I’m no fool, Carlos,” she said. “I see the way you look at me.” She encircled the length of my penis with her fingers. “I must be lying if I said I haven’t fancied how it’d be.”

I hit back a moan, but the twitching of my cock betrayed me.

She then kissed me, moving her soft hands up and down my shaft.

I couldn’t hold it any longer. I felt my throbbing gadget thrust futilely into empty air, discharging copiously, and I knew better than to ask for more.

“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” the madam of the house said. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Hmmm….” Is all I managed to utter.

Copyright © Rati, 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Sex on the Phone

“I want you to make love to me tonight, babe,” she said when I picked the phone.

“I’d love to, babe, but you know that you’ve got to be strong for me. I wish I could come home soon.”

“No, I want you to make love to me, now.”

“Babe, you know…”

“Don’t you miss me, honey?”

“Of course I do. Why do you…”

“Babe, I miss you sooooo much it hurts. I wish you were here as I tell you this.”

“Me too, but soon. Soon, babe.”

“I’d like to kiss you like crazy, and suck you like lollipop.”

I gasped, but said nothing.

“Guess what, babe? I’m so wet for you. I am now touching my boobs. It feels so nice. I can only imagine your hands on me.”

“Whao! Sounds so sweet.”

“I can feel my nipples in your hot mouth. They are so hard, for you.”

“Babe…”

“I can now feel you between my thighs. Oooohh! I like it.”

“Look, babe. I think…”

“No! DON’T. STOP”

I discovered something – I too was aroused.

“You are so sweet, babe,” she moaned.

“Honey, I love you. Yes, I like it.” I had no option. “I can taste your sweet-smelling juices on my tongue.”

“Sweetie, I want you to enter me now. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Yes. Yes, babe.”

“Ooooh! Ooooh!” her breathing was so heavy on the phone that it vibrated. “My finger is inside me now. I imagine it’s you in there where you belong.”

I put my hand in my trousers and got hold of my stone hard dick.

“I am rocking you,” Gillian’s voice said over the phone.

As she continued her sweet talk, I rubbed and touched myself. It actually felt like it.

Moaning and cooing continued for over ten minutes before she screamed from the other end, “I’ve come, babe” just as copious liquid spattered my groin.

Who said long distance is a romance killer?

Copyright © Rati, 2012. All Rights Reserved.

Sex on the Beach

When Cindy came from her evening walk the other day I knew that she’d been up to some mischief – she looked a bit flushed.

“I met this drop-dead-gorgeous guy,” she said. “I like him, I guess.”

“Ah,” I muttered, with understanding of what she hadn’t said.

“Guess what?” I was about to say that I am not good at guesses when she continued, undeterred. “I’m no longer a virgin.”

Not exactly the mischief I had envisioned.

“It was on the beach. Gosh! I screamed my head off.” She said matter-of-factly. “My pussy is still fluttering like a butterfly.”

I looked at my sister with an indifferent fury. “That was my boyfriend. I saw you.”

“What do you mean, Elsie? I know your boyfriend.”

“Well,” I said. “You win some, you lose some. I never liked him that much anyway.”

Copyright © Rati, 2012.

Foreplay

In the candle lit room her smooth dimpled face gleamed with an ear-to-ear smile, her breasts topped with areolae of sliced pineapples so full that they threatened to burst, her raspberry nipples hard with desire.

Lying there as the table where I had laid all sorts of foods for my idea of a sensual banquet I felt a tingling sensation all over me. Never before had I wanted to have Talia this much.

After the sensual dinner was over, I served her the dessert: me! We kissed, passionately, sensuously. I enjoyed the warmth and flavor of her lips, lowered myself to her breasts and took a bite of them. She tasted sweet, tangy and fruity, and my mouth filled with saliva.

As I sucked, pressed and pulled her breasts, I massaged her silky, pubic hair. With my hand, I noticed that her vulva was full and her labia were slightly opening.

I inserted my middle finger into her warm and moist vagina searching for her G-Spot.

She reacted to my probing with “Yeeeeh, ooooaaah, aaaagh.”

I pressed further, applying more pressure. I wanted her to writhe in pleasure as I curled my tongue and went for her mound of pleasure, the clitoris.

She cried out, “Oh, oh, oh, my God. You send me to paradise.”

I was thrilled and I stopped. I wanted to allow her to recover, leaking her pre-come. I reached again for her clitoris, pulled it into my mouth and drew deeply from her elongated nipple.

Without warning, her body arched, stiffened and gyrated in all directions. She pulled me closer and closer to her body, clung and bit into my body.

A furtive glance on her face showed a silver line streaking her cheeks. It didn’t take long to know that they were tears.

I was happy that I had made her cry tears of joy.

And it was still foreplay!

Copyright © Rati, 2012. All Rights Reserved.