The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions (48 page)

Catherine picked up the rattan cane again and gave it a practice swipe. She then went on to cane my already punished backside, beating me severely, one fierce stroke after another in swift
succession, until the pain lacing through me was excruciating. I felt as if my body was ablaze as I tried frantically to contain the furious pain. At last I could take no more. “Mercy,
Mistress, I beg you,” I cried out, hot tears raining down my cheeks.

She stopped caning me immediately at that point and moved to my front. She placed herself on all fours, her rear splayed open, the pink opening of her anus twitching invitingly in my face.
“Lick my asshole while I go back to pleasuring myself,” she instructed, looking at me briefly from over her shoulder.

Needless to say, I obeyed and licked her pulsating anal hole for all I was worth. I darted my tongue in and out, feeling her anal muscles contracting around it as she continued to masturbate
ever more furiously.

“Now bring yourself off,” she demanded, her voice throaty with desire. “I want you to come over my asshole and then lick it all up, swallow the lot.”

Again I did exactly as my Mistress told me. And as she used her fingers to bring herself, trembling ecstatically, to a violent orgasm, I too shuddered to a powerful climax. Convulsions shook my
body as my cock erupted, pumping out a stream of ejaculate over her beautiful anus. Then, obedient slave that I am, I licked up and swallowed all that come – every last drop.

Jane, Queensland

I was bored shitless. These operas were a total waste of my time. My boyfriend Brad’s boss had given him free tickets in a private box and, at the last minute, had
insisted he stay back and finish off a proposal. I was pissed off, I can tell you. This guy’s voice was grating on my nerves. I had no idea what he was singing and why everyone seemed to be
enthralled by him. I glanced over at the other side of the theatre, noting very little that interested me until I spied a very good-looking guy on the level above.

He too was in a box and by the looks of things his girlfriend, or whoever was up there with him, was glued to the stage. He looked down at me and at first I wondered if he was really looking at
me or just observing the area. It wasn’t until I saw him pick up his little opera glasses and hone in on me that I thought I too would check him out. Fortunately, Brad had insisted I take a
pair along, didn’t want me to miss out on anything interesting.

It was weird, spying on each other. He pulled back first, smirking seductively at me, raising his eyebrow as he pursed his lips, his eyes looking downwards. It took me a second to realize that
he was indicating my lower half. I squirmed in my seat, eager for some fun.

With my eyes still glued to him, I lifted my skirt, exposing a good piece of my thigh. His hand indicated to go further, so I did. He nodded his head in approval. Being an exhibitionist by
nature I pushed back in my seat and opened my legs.

I watched him lick his lips.

I shifted my gaze to his companion and the woman was still riveted to the stage. With one hand I managed to pull the crotch of my panties over. I could see him nodding his head. I lifted one leg
and braced it against the balcony. Now I inserted a finger and began to explore myself. He leaned forwards and I rubbed my clit, enjoying the little show I was putting on for him.

Suddenly bright lights lit up the area and I quickly pulled my dress back down over my knees and sat up properly. It was the interval. Most people left their seats to have a glass of wine. I
stayed where I was, disappointed at having to cut my fun short.

My mystery man spoke into the woman’s ear and then rose and left. I stayed where I was, hoping it wouldn’t be long before the curtains were back up and the lights dimmed. As the bell
rang to indicate that the opera was ready to begin, I eagerly waited for the man to return to his seat.

Unfortunately he didn’t and after peering through the lenses for at least five more minutes I finally placed the binoculars in my handbag and turned my attention back to the stage. A
curtain behind me opened and the very man that I had been looking for sat in the seat that should have been Brad’s.

Nervous now, I kept my eyes glued to the stage, unsure of what to do. He too seemed to be watching but suddenly his fingers were inching up my dress. I gasped. Should I stop him? Showing him was
one thing but allowing him to have his way with me was, well, another. I held my breath as his hand slid under the material and between my thighs.

His fingers probed at the lacy edge of my panties and I wiggled in the seat, opening my legs for him to give him easier access. I thought I heard him chuckle softly and then his finger was
sliding up and down my slit. I moaned with pleasure, leaning back in the chair, shifting my arse so it was hanging off the chair.

He slipped right in, my pussy wet from my own little play around earlier. My chest rose and fell and my passion built and then he was on the floor between my thighs, his head under my skirt, his
warm breath tantalizing my inner thigh before his tongue flickered around my pussy lips. It was thrilling, I can tell you.

Still pretending to show interest with the opera I had the uncontrollable urge to grab hold of my breasts and tweak my nipples. I was so turned on as his fingers dug deep inside me, it took all
my will power not to scream out with desire. He fingered me like that for a few minutes, really juicing me up. But I wanted more, needed more.

Tapping his head and indicating that I wanted him to move, I slid onto the floor, hoping that the balcony would serve its purpose and not allow anyone to see what we were up to.

He’d already undone his zip and had his cock in his hand. I flew down to it and gobbled it up into my mouth, sucking furiously, loving the feel of his knob as it slid over my lips and then
his shaft was sliding down my throat while I squeezed his hairy balls.

I needed to be fucked and wasn’t sure how much longer this opera would go on for. I worked my way up to his mouth and kissed him, our tongues lashing at each other’s.

“Fuck me from behind,” I said, rolling over and wiggling out of my panties.

He grabbed my hips and I rolled back a fraction, lifting my leg to place over his thigh. He guided his cock into my pussy and began to fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before.

It was wild, I can tell you. I had no idea who he was or where he came from, all I knew was that I didn’t want him to stop. He grabbed hold of one of my tits and crushed it cruelly while
he slammed into me. I was peaking, desperate to come but not wanting this to stop. He felt my pussy contracting and pumped harder, his breath coming out in gasps as he too climaxed.

We lay there together when it was over and then I felt him move away from me. I wanted to talk to him, find out who he was but he rushed through the curtains and then they fell back and I was
all alone. Straightening up my clothing I sat back on the chair. I looked everywhere but couldn’t find my panties.

On the other side of the theatre the guy was back in his box, whispering into the woman’s ear. She looked over towards me and laughed. I rummaged in my bag and pulled out the binoculars,
annoyed that they were laughing at my expense. Focusing in on them I noticed the woman had something red in her hand. She brought the fabric to her nose and seemed to be sniffing.

A hot sensation prickled me as I realized she was sniffing my panties. She put them in her handbag and smiled at me, kissing the guy full on the mouth. She seemed to be licking his lips, chin
and cheeks. With her tongue licking him clean I knew it was me she was tasting and I promised myself as soon as this opera was over, I was going over there to introduce myself to them.

Just before the end though, Brad arrived. He hugged me, begging forgiveness at having to have left me alone. He said he’d make it up to me but the only thing I wanted then and there was
another good fucking.

Grabbing his hand we raced out and into the car park. Like I said, I loved being an exhibitionist so I allowed him to take me over the bonnet, hoping beyond hope that someone would see us, would
demand we stop. Unfortunately, though, no one did.

“Man, are you wet,” Brad said.

“It’s the opera, darling,” I said. “I didn’t think anything could turn me on so much.”

“We’ll have to come more often then,” he laughed as he sunk his shaft in me.

“Yes, we’ll have to
come
again and again.”

Angie, Wilmington

I stood motionless for a moment, staring at the empty hole in the wall, knowing exactly what Nicole expected of me.

“Ready?” Nicole chimed, her eyes flashing between mine and the hole. My thoughts were a blur of fear, arousal and, most of all, uncertainty. Did I really want this, despite what I
had said?

“Well?” Nicole said. “Don’t you want to?”

I do, I told myself. I did. Of course I did. Ever since Nicole had explained this to me I had wanted to, had fantasized about it. But it was just that: a fantasy, something I said to make myself
seem wilder in front of my friends; something said when I was drunk. Just something I had said, with the assumption that I would never have to really decide, never have to act upon it.

I had no way of knowing what would happen if I did this – I didn’t even know Nicole, not really – but somehow that excited me even more. I looked at her and felt a strange,
wonderful fear. I thought then about how rare it is to experience something so totally unknown, so new. And I remembered the boast I had made earlier at the bar. I’d rather regret something I
did than regret something I didn’t do. I looked once more at the hole, and made my decision.

Nicole could see it in my eyes and smiled. “Good,” she said. “I’ll go tell them you’re ready.” And she turned and left me, closing the door behind her. I
locked it and then stepped to the wall where I instinctively dropped to my knees on the dirty concrete.

I listened intently for sounds from the other side of the wall, but could hear nothing but the endless thumping of the music. For what felt like an eternity I knelt by the wall, waiting for what
I knew was coming. My eyes were fixed on the hole, watching, waiting.

A soft cock appeared in the opening, hanging limp over the edge, waiting to be sucked. I stared at it. I wasn’t actually going to do this, was I? How could I? How could I not? My heart was
racing as I looked over my shoulder, making sure I was indeed alone. I looked back at the waiting cock. I leaned forward, closing my eyes, and I slipped the warm cock between my lips. Instantly I
felt it growing in my mouth, lengthening and thickening as I sucked on it. I tried to picture myself, on my knees in a dirty storage closet, sucking a cock stuck through a jagged hole in a wall. I
felt ashamed, horrified almost at the depth to which Nicole could make me sink, yet exhilarated at the utter perversity of what I was doing.

I pulled the cock from my mouth and looked at it, fully erect now, and lapped at the swollen head, nibbled at its spongy softness. Once again I took it in my mouth, its hardness slipping through
my wet lips. I tried to imagine who its owner was, what he looked like, how old he was. If he had a girlfriend. Or a wife. Was he tall? Had I seen him in the club? Maybe he was the guy that bought
Nicole that drink. I thought suddenly then about protection. I had no idea who this man was, where he’d been. I pushed the thought aside. I couldn’t stop now. Besides, this was part of
the adventure, part of the danger. Taking chances. Taking risks.

Unable to see his face, to hear the sounds he made, made it nearly impossible to tell if he liked what I was doing to him, much less anticipate when he might come. Still, gauging by the hardness
of his cock, I was doing just fine. I held and kneaded the large pouch of balls that had been pushed through the hole as well, caressing them as I moved my head back and forth on the cock. I felt
it twitch ever so slightly on my tongue just before releasing its hot fluid into my mouth. I could feel the force of it spurting over my tongue and flooding my throat, could feel it coating my
mouth, clinging to my teeth. I was almost frightened at how willing I was to suck anonymous cock, how easy it was for me to receive and swallow a complete stranger’s come.

Even as I nursed the softening cock it was pulled abruptly from my mouth. Almost immediately another took its place. It was so long that it bumped against my nose before I could move out of its
way. It hovered there, impatiently waiting to be sucked, and I crawled under it. Hesitation gone, I wrapped my lips hungrily around this new offering, imagining the smile on its owner’s face
as I did. I sucked my second cock of the night, working it into my mouth until the head was in my throat. I almost thought I heard him moan on the other side as I freed him momentarily to catch my
breath, staring at his length, now shining wet with my saliva. I fed it back in, groaning loudly at the feel of it between my tingling lips. Back and forth I went, until I felt the warm jets of his
come on my tongue. Connected to this man only by his cock, I could still feel his body trembling as he came and could hear him calling out his pleasure, hidden from me just inches away. He filled
my mouth until I was leaking, sucking the whole time. Finally he expired and pulled away, disappearing quietly into the dark hole.

The hole was vacated, then just as quickly occupied again. And it went on, cock after cock magically appearing in the hole and just as mysteriously slipping from view after I had made it come. I
was amazed at the variety of manhood offered to me— black and white, long and short, thick and thin. Each had its own unique taste and smell, its own feel. After the fourth, I stopped
swallowing. I was afraid I would get sick and end up in the emergency room needing my stomach pumped like in some twisted urban legend. Instead, I let them come in my mouth and then pull out before
I spit onto the floor below me. I wondered, suddenly, what a group of cocks would be called. A group of crows is a murder. There’s a pod of whales. A pride of lions. What would a group of
cocks be? A stab of cocks? A siege, maybe? How about a brace? After the seventh cock, the closet began to reek of sex, the thick taste of come filling my mouth, my pants legs splattered with it, a
cloudy pool of it collecting below me.