In the Backseat Read online

  Was that Perdy? Were those her words? She never said things like that in bed. Generally, she was enthusiastic but quiet. Now she ran her hands through Beatrix’s hair and held on tight. Perdy moved the girl’s head back and forth like she was fucking Beatrix’s face, running her big erection all the way down the checkout girl’s throat. She moved her hips, too. She thrust hard, smashing her pussy against Beatrix’s lips. Was Perdy hurting her? Maybe. But she wasn’t too concerned at the moment. This felt too good to stop. She reamed the girl. She forced her engorged lips hard against that beautiful face, smudging all its dark make up until she knew she was coming. Then she moved her hips in circles, thrusting in jerky back-and-forth motions until every sensation of pleasure and pain bubbled to the surface of her being.

  Perdy revelled in her orgasm. For the first time in her life, she was sure she’d come for real. Sometimes she tricked herself into thinking it was real when it was just an inflated version of a whimper. She made the noises and went through the motions because they pleased Tom. This time, Tom was nowhere to be seen – not even hiding in the closet – and every scream and seizure and gyration was all-natural.

  When the wave subsided, only a dull ache remained and Perdy had to close her legs. Beatrix tried to keep eating her, so she shielded her pussy with both hands. ‘Enough,’ Perdy laughed. ‘Oh, I just can’t take any more. You’ve destroyed me, Beatrix. You’ve utterly destroyed me.’

  Not a word of a lie. Beatrix had gone at her body with such vigour her nipples and clit were raw and tender. She couldn’t wait to wake up the next morning to a pleasant ache that reminded her of the night before.

  Beatrix wasn’t much for pillow talk. She let Perdy relax as she got out a book and read in silence. Strangely, Beatrix didn’t find this behaviour offensive, or even eccentric. After all, they were strangers. As far as she could recall, she’d never even told Beatrix her name.

  ‘Should I pay you?’ Perdy asked after a long while. She felt very practical in broaching the subject. She felt like a man with his whore. ‘I did offer to give you some money. I don’t think we agreed on a sum.’

  Beatrix put her book down and smiled. ‘Gratis, my lover.’ Leaning in toward Perdy, Beatrix kissed her forehead and stood from the bed. ‘And now it’s time to leave.’

  Now, of course, Perdy felt dreadful for thinking of the checkout girl as a whore. What a nice favour she’d done! Beatrix was a sweet person, really, very giving, and she expected nothing in return.

  When Perdy asked to use the telephone, Beatrix told her there was one in the shop and kissed her goodbye. ‘You know where to find me when you’re ready for more.’

  Perdy climbed the stairs to find the woman with the headscarf still hovering over her calculator. After a brief conversation, they realised they lived only two blocks away from one another. Small world! Folding her scarf over her hair, she said, ‘I’m heading out anyway. Come on, I’ll drive you.’

  Of course, the lovely woman could hear everything that went on downstairs. Perdy felt like talking, so on the way she explained her trepidations as well as the great elation she’d experienced at the hands and the tongue of the drug-store checkout girl.

  ‘What will I tell my husband as I dig him out of the closet?’ Perdy finally asked, thinking herself clever and cryptic.

  The pretty woman nodded like she held in her heart all the truths of the world. ‘This isn’t the first time I’ve heard those words from a woman leaving the Den of Beatrix.’

  And, strangely, Perdy was pleased to be one of many.

  3D Porn

  by Ray Cluley

  I first saw Fiona naked last year, when I was still living with Hadley. It had been a complete accident, a simple case of me going into the bathroom and there she was, fresh from the shower, brushing out her wet hair in front of a full length mirror. I don’t know who was more surprised. I made my apologies after a stunned moment (a moment that probably looked like me getting an eyeful, which I was) then I backed out of the room as she hastily wrapped up in a towel. We never mentioned it to Hadley. It wasn’t until recently that we even spoke of it to each other.

  Anyway, Fiona’s gorgeous. She’d been going out with Had for a few months at the time of the bathroom incident, so I already knew this. I already knew she had long legs, a flat stomach, and perfect tits, just from the clothes she wore. I even knew about the small heart tattoo she had just above her groin, pointing down like a cute little arrow, because Had told me. But I’d never seen it until then. Nor had I seen her neat pubic hair, or the dark red of her nipples. Her tits had lifted and wobbled as she brushed her hair, head tilted to one side. It was enough to wank with for many weeks to come, no pun intended.

  You see, I’ve always fancied Fiona. Who wouldn’t? To see her in the street or in a club you were bound to store the image away for later, but to see her all the time, in your own flat, was maddening. It was especially maddening that she was going out with my flatmate. Especially when he told me things I probably shouldn’t know, private things, like how much she loved sex. ‘She loves to make me come, man,’ he confided once, if that’s the right word; he may have been bragging. ‘Says she loves being the one to make it happen, like it’s a power thing or something.’

  He told me her favourite positions, things like that. It gave me plenty of material for the wank-bank. What he didn’t know was I could picture everything he said quite clearly after that time in the bathroom.

  One night, after a movie marathon of shite on the telly, I woke in the lounge to the sound of bedsprings and wordless voices. Hadley and Fiona had been out for the night, but from the sounds of it they were home. It certainly sounded like they were enjoying the rest of their evening.

  I sat up on the sofa, knocking a load of polystyrene food containers to the floor. Hadley must have balanced them over me as I slept. I could see him doing it, grinning drunkenly, sniggering as a burger box teetered on my forehead. Not that it was him I wanted to imagine right then, especially after the soft breath I had just heard drawn out in the other room. A female sound. Fiona.

  I’d never heard them having sex before. Despite how this story might sound so far, I’m not actually a pervert. I don’t wait around to catch glimpses of naked girlfriends, peer into darkened bedrooms, or listen at the walls for orgasms. For a start, my room is down the hall. Miles away.

  Hadley made a few quick grunts, Fiona copying each one more eloquently.

  I couldn’t help it: I got hard right there. On the sofa, a collection of takeout cartons piled on the coffee table, I sat with my cock pointing straight up and out of my dressing gown. It was as if it strained to locate the source of the beautiful sounds of Fiona enjoying herself.

  I meant to tuck it away for the sake of modesty. Honestly, that was what I meant to do. But as soon as my hand touched it, hot and hard and aching for the girl I could hear, it was automatic to curl my fingers around and glide them down. Just once. And back up again. My grip was soft and loose, casual. It was only meant to be a self-teasing moment before going to my room to finish the job.

  Another sigh from Fiona, though, as I made the upstroke forced me to tighten the circle of my fingers. I was wanking in the lounge. I seemed to know it, somewhere, but I didn’t care. I was wanking in the lounge, to the sound of my flatmate fucking his girlfriend. Or rather, to the sound of her: in my head, it was me who was the lucky fucker, pun fully intended this time.

  The bed-bouncing had become more frantic by now, and Fiona was groaning and moaning and making oh-oh-oh noises. I matched them silently, quickening my own pumping to match her pace, leaning back into the cushions with my eyes closed. One hand stroked my hard cock, up and down, fingers surrounding the shaft in a firm grip, whilst the other fondled my balls. I was picturing Fiona in the bathroom, sitting on the surface beside the sink with me between her legs, her feet crossed behind me, wrapping me up in them, and her hands pulling at my back to bring me in deeper each time. My hands were on her magnificent tits, squeezing them, pushi
ng them together. Her face was tilted up to mine and her mouth opened to –

  Say my name.

  I stopped mid-stroke and opened my eyes. I wasn’t in the bathroom, of course. I was wanking in the communal lounge of the flat I shared. And Fiona was there. I mean really there.

  ‘Oh, Jesus.’

  I tucked myself into my dressing gown, trying to kid myself that she hadn’t seen what I was doing.

  This was not happening.

  Fiona just stared. She was wearing a dressing gown of her own, something red and silky and short on the legs. She mimicked me in drawing it closer around her body. She’d seen all right.

  Fuck, this was not happening.

  This was far worse than the bathroom thing. Still pushing my dressing gown out in an obvious sign of arousal, I made an awkward move that said I was about to stand without actually doing it yet, in case I popped out, hard and horny. Luckily I was already wilting with embarrassment.

  ‘I was just going to bed,’ I tried.

  Fiona smiled at me in the darkness. I could see the white of her teeth. I figured this was like revenge for her. Better than revenge because I’d only seen her naked.

  ‘Don’t let me stop you,’ she said.

  I was going to risk standing, even running, but something in the way she said that caused me to pause. It wasn’t so much, “don’t let me stop you”, but rather, “don’t let me stop you”, with the emphasis on the stop. As if she wasn’t replying to my pathetic lie of going to bed but, instead, responding to what I had really been doing.

  I stared at her.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. There was even something confusing about the way she said that.

  When she came around and sat on the chair opposite me, I was really confused. And embarrassed. Mostly embarrassed.

  ‘Good night,’ I said, finally able to stand.

  ‘Well, it was. Then it wasn’t. Then it was again.’

  Everything had become so surreal, I had no idea what was going on. ‘What?’

  ‘Hadley fell asleep.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Didn’t even finish. Just fell right asleep between positions.’

  I hadn’t realised they had stopped. Prematurely, it seemed. I’d been too busy.

  ‘Now you’ve stopped, too.’ She hesitated. ‘Carry on.’

  ‘What?’

  I hadn’t forgotten. I was completely aware of what I had been doing.

  ‘You know. Do what you were doing.’ She looked at where my robe still stood up and smiled.

  I smiled back. She had one of those smiles that forced you to return it, whether you wanted to or not. Being caught masturbating didn’t seem to stop that. This was really fucking weird. Maybe not to her right then because she’d been drinking, but to me it was way off the weirdness scale.

  ‘Wank for me.’

  I have to admit, those words from her mouth had an instant effect, which is to say my softening dick suddenly became not so soft any more. It lifted up the cloth of my dressing gown but thankfully did not peek through yet. I went to tuck it away.

  ‘Yeah, that’s …’ she began, but stopped when she saw I was only fidgeting into a safer position. ‘Go on,’ she urged.

  ‘What?’

  OK, I was beyond acting dumb now, but I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to act.

  ‘Carry on wanking,’ she said. It sounded like a crap film that was never made.

  ‘I wasn’t. I …’

  ‘Were you thinking of me?’

  I shifted, uncomfortable, and it was all the answer she needed.

  ‘Well, I’m here now. I’ll sit right here. I’ll be like 3D porn or something.’ She arched back into the cushions of the seat, pushing her chest out and grinning. The silky material was taut across her full breasts, her nipples. ‘Go on.’

  I really wanted to. Right then, I wanted to whip it out, grab on, and wank all over the place. All over her. Actually, the truth is I wanted to grab her and fuck her until she was full of my come. But that didn’t seem to be an option.

  She picked up on my hesitation.

  ‘It’s a one-time only offer. And I won’t tell.’

  My hand was in my lap, resting on top of the bulge that pushed out urgently.

  I decided to be brave. ‘I will if you will.’

  She didn’t even think about it. She opened her legs and the flimsy gown she wore fell into a soft shape between her thighs. It stopped me from seeing the part of her I wanted, but I saw her hand well enough as it slipped underneath the material. She rubbed at herself briefly, her eyes on me the whole time.

  I did the same. I figured this was for real with no practical joke looming. Still, I was cautious. I reached under my own gown as she had, not showing anything, and held myself.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. I don’t know if she meant me doing what she wanted, or if she was reacting to the way she touched herself. Whatever, it was all I needed. My cock was more than happy for me to carry on from where I left off, especially with Fiona right in front of my eyes, and I started wanking again. Slowly, but I was doing it. For all I knew, this could all be a very good dream, and I’d be an idiot to pass it up.

  I wanked in the lounge as Fiona sat opposite, doing the same.

  Eventually, her touches and caresses slowed then stopped altogether when she saw I was doing what she wanted. It was a little while before I realised. I was embarrassed all over again, and felt tricked.

  ‘No no no,’ she reassured me, ‘I just want to watch.’ But I was already bringing my hands out from under my robe.

  ‘Come on,’ she tried again, getting off the chair and coming over to me. She knelt on the floor in front of where I sat on the sofa. ‘3D porn, remember.’

  She leaned back, opening up the front of her dressing gown this time to reveal her beautiful naked tits.

  I’d seen them before, but I still gasped at the sight. They were large and well shaped, full and round, gently sloped, and natural. Her nipples were small and dark red, as I already knew, but now they were puckered and hard.

  Fiona was right in front of me with her tits out.

  I was hard again and would have done whatever she asked, but she mistook my stunned disbelief for hesitance and continued trying to persuade me.

  ‘Come on my tits.’

  Well, that was it. I folded the dressing gown aside and took my cock in my hand. Fiona breathed a sigh when she saw my naked erection and leaned back, supporting herself on both hands, offering her body as a target for my come. It was un-fucking-believable. I pumped at my body and stared at hers, Fiona’s thighs soft and white against the carpet where she knelt, the flimsy fabric of her gown draped over them. The hem was gathered in a bunch in her lap, hinting at what was underneath. From there, it parted upwards up in a wide V, her magnificent tits holding it open as she arched her back. She held her head back too, her long hair hanging down behind her. She began to exhale heavy breaths. I thought at first it was encouragement for me but a quick glance down and I saw she was playing with herself again. The skirted part of her gown was open too, now, and she stroked gently at herself.

  Oh God.

  I didn’t know whether to cover her tits, shoot between them, or aim for her delicate neck. Wherever I was going to come, it was going to happen any seco …

  ‘Slow down.’

  I ignored her the first time, my hand riding up and down with a mind of its own: I was so close.

  She leant forward and said it again, curling her hand over mine. ‘Slow. Down.’

  Her fingers on top of mine were wet with her own juices, but her grip was firm and she stopped me. Then she relaxed her hold and brought my hand up with hers in a maddeningly slow glide. She did this a few times until she was sure she’d bought some more time. I reckoned only seconds because the way her wet fingers felt on mine was too much. I tried to trick her, spreading my fingers wide enough that hers slipped between, and for one stroke it worked. For a joyous moment her hand was stroking my cock, slipping over it easily
, spreading her wetness over the shaft. Then she repositioned my grip. I glanced at her and she smiled and I knew I hadn’t tricked her at all.

  ‘I can’t. I’m with Had, remember? I’m just your porn.’

  Her logic was kind of flawed in my opinion, but I wasn’t going to point it out. Especially as she was speeding my hand in hers. ‘I’m Had’s girlfriend but you really want to fuck me, don’t you. You want me to hop on and ride you hard, don’t you.’

  They didn’t sound like questions but the answer was yes. Let me tell you, though, guilt can be a terrible thing. At the mention of Had, I started to lose my erection. Her attempt at a taboo turn-on had backfired.

  ‘No.’

  I think we both said it. Unbelievably, Had was getting in the way. Drunken, sleeping, lucky bastard Had was in my head.

  I was going to kill him in the morning.

  ‘I want to make you come,’ she tried, looking up at me from where she knelt as I tried stroking my shrinking hardness. I was going to apologise, but as I opened my mouth to speak, she tried something new.

  She leaned over me, draping her tits over my cock.

  And it worked. Obviously.

  Instantly, I was standing to attention and back in action. She let it nestle between her breasts for a moment, making sure I was rigid hard, and then sat down again slowly, forcing it to pass between them in a torturously drawn out tit-wank move. She leaned back and grinned. ‘There. Now come on. I know you want to.’

  And just to make sure, she leaned in close and did it again.

  I groaned. Leaning back into the cushions of the sofa, I stared down at myself as I pushed up between her tits a second time. The weight of them against my crotch was too tempting; I reached down and held them, squeezed them around my cock. She gasped but pushed my hands off and pulled away, skilfully gliding a nipple over the tip of my cock. We both groaned as I wetted her with some pre-come. A string of it connected us, finally collapsing as she rested back against the coffee table again. I could see the line of it glistening on her skin.