Category: public sex

Remembering Mardi Gras

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I was wearing ten strands of beads, and the night was just beginning. My date had left to find a restroom and I hadn’t seen him since. Then again, who needs a date at Mardi Gras?

My dress was tight and soaked from sweat and spilled drinks. I smelled like Rum & Coke. I had worn a tube dress because it yanks down so quickly and easily, and I was determined to win my share of beads. It was also short, in case I gathered the courage to try earning a few more strands of Mardi-Gras beads. But so far I hadn’t dared – that was like inviting rape. And every man in a three foot radius grabbed for your pussy the second you lifted your skirt.

“What will you do with your beads afterwards?” yelled a voice at my ear, straining to be heard above the music and noise of the crowd. I craned my neck to see him: the crowd was so tightly packed that it was nearly impossible to turn around.

“I thought I’d hang them on my grandmother’s grave,” I shouted over my shoulder. “She always did love Mardis Gras.”

He laughed. It was a rich, dark Cajun laugh. “You’re funny. I appreciate that.”

I felt him put his hands on my hips, which constitutes ‘dancing together’ in a crowd like this. I looked down. His hands were large and dark, with fingers that were thin and elegant but also strong. Heat rushed to between my legs. His head leaned forward against the back of mine. We danced. Several minutes later he spoke again.

“You remind me of my best friend in high school. I can’t figure why.”

“I hope your best friend was a girl.”

He laughed again. “Lor’, yes. I haven’t seen her since high school.” A minute later he added, “I think it’s your hair. She had long hair; she kept it just the way you do.”

“Were you two strictly friends?”

At first it seemed like he hadn’t heard me, though I knew he had. He took so long to reply.

“I always wanted more, but I never had the guts.”

I could feel him growing harder against my ass. The heat between my legs grew in like. I pressed slightly backwards, rubbing back and forth against him. His breath rushed past my ear. His hands migrated downwards until they came to rest at the hem of my dress. The heat between my legs grew again, and I could feel myself growing wet.
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Cindy Loosens Up

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My wife and I met in high school. I was a football stud and a party animal. She was an honors student and painfully shy. I actually approached her because I felt sorry for her at some party that her friends had dragged her to. She just stood in a corner and looking down at the floor. I walked up and started a conversation. It did not take long to realize how beautiful and sweet she was. I gave up my hound dog ways and decided that I had found what I had been searching for all along.

Our relationship was very innocent at first. She was completely inexperienced so I was gentle and patient with her. She did not have a clue as to her beauty. The first time I saw her without her clothes it took my breath away. She is blonde and petite with a very tight body. Her breasts were the perfect fit for my hands. They are quite firm and so responsive that her nipples get hard from just a kiss on her lips. Her blue eyes are so deep that they seem to engulf me. Six years later I still cannot get enough of kissing her.

Like I said she was shy. She had only been kissed once before me. I, on the other hand, had spread my oats both far and wide. It took a month before I made it inside her bra, three months before she would touch my dick with her hand, and three weeks after that before I touched her perfect pussy.

We did not have sex until we were married.

Two years after our first date!

I had an unbelievable set of blue balls. I just have to say thank god for porn! On our wedding night we had the clumsiest sex of my life. I did not come and she bled all over our wedding bed. Not one for the memory book.

As time went on we got better. After several months of missionary I introduced a new position, she was hesitant at first but soon learned to enjoy being on top. Getting her to blow me was a chore. She never let me cum in her mouth.

Good thing I loved her so much. In every other way she was perfect. She was a wonderful cook and fastidiously clean. She loved the same movies I did. Laughed at my jokes. And loved me completely. I never even contemplated cheating on her. But I did buy more porn.

I became somewhat of a regular at the local adult video store. I even befriended one of the clerks. He was a large black guy name of Roscoe. He was far more articulate and educated then I would have expected for a guy working in that business. He was an easy guy to talk to and I often found myself laughing out loud at the stories he told of some of the odder patrons. He also titillated me with stories of some of the women that occasionally showed up.
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Red Cowboy Boots

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Christy peered into her closet trying to decide on which outfit to wear for her usual Saturday night outing, and since being from Ft. Worth, Texas, her destination was sure to be one of the many cowboy bars that dotted the Metroplex landscape. She finally decided on a long country style dress that was low cut on top, yet loose enough to allow her freedom of movement on the dance floor. She lay the garment on her bed and sat down in front of her vanity mirror to brush her long blonde hair. There was no mistaking it, Christy had a stunning body! Long slim legs, flat tummy, a full yet tight ass, large red nippled breasts, and a pretty if not beautiful face.

As the brush pulled through her tresses, her boobs jiggled back and forth, causing her nipples to become erect. Christy had to admit she was a male magnet of the nth degree. Her pussy was already damp, and having a smooth shaved crotch seemed to only heighten her arousal. Christy was blessed with abnormally puffy vaginal lips, and lately it seemed that they were always bulging and wet with juice. “God,” she thought, “I hope I can get lucky tonight, it’s been almost a week.” After the fiftieth stroke of her brush, she got up and pulled her dress over her head and slipped it on. “No bra or panties tonight,” she said out loud, “no use having them in the way.” To top off her ensemble, she pulled on a pair of bright red cowboy boots, a red cowboy hat, and a red bandanna around her neck, and after one last look in the mirror, she was out the door and on her way.

The Jagged Horseshoe was packed as usual, with almost everyone dressed as a cowboy or cowgir, and even though most of them were city cowboys, they really tried to look and act the part of a real cowhand. The tell tale give away that most of them were city slickers was the amount of white wine that was consumed, not a whole lot of beer and shots in this place! Christy wandered over to the bar and ordered a margarita, while over in the far corner the mechanical bull was in the process of bucking off another “cowboy”. Christy was watching the bull riding when up behind her she felt two large hands on her hips and a hard cock pushing against her ass, and while her natural inclination was to pull away, in the crush of bodies around them, she was powerless to move in any direction, so she tensed her body, not sure of what would happen next.

She felt a hot breath on her shoulder, and then a soft male voice in her ear said, “I’ve been watching you from the moment you came in the bar, you don’t know how much you turn me on!” He continued on, “I’m as hard as blue steel, and I’ll do anything to stick it into your hot pussy, and I can see that you’re not wearing a bra, and I can feel that you’re not wearing any panties!” “I just want you to know that I’m no pervert, and I’m not bad looking either, so if you want me to leave just lean forward and I’ll be on my way, if not, and you’re as hot as I am, push back against me now.” Christy’s head was spinning, totally taken by surprise by this “rear” assault, but the only problem was that it also totally turned her on–big time, so she helplessly sagged back into her anonymous admirer, feeling more of his body press against her own.
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Mile High Club

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Trent Boyd hefted his small attache’ case into the over head compartment and sat down in the aisle seat and waited for the 737 to take off. Leaving the bone chilling cold of Detroit to spend a long weekend in New Orleans was enough to bring a smile to the face of any seasoned traveler! One stop over in Memphis, and it would be good by Woodward Ave. and hello Bourbon Street! This would be Trent’s sixth visit to the Crescent City and it was definitely his favorite destination, with all the food, booze and women to be had! His day dream was abruptly interrupted, however, when he chanced to see an absolutely stunning black haired beauty dragging an over night bag down the aisle, obviously looking for her seat. Every male eye in the plane followed her every step, the result of which was a slight jiggling of her oversized chest underneath her skin tight sweater! To Trent’s utter delight, she stopped at his row, rechecked her ticket stub, and hoisted her bag into the over head, and slipped past him into the window seat next to his. Usually in cases like this, Trent’s usual experience would have been that this lovely creature would turn out to be an ice queen, but to his happy dismay, she stuck out her hand and said, “I’m Sonja, Sonja Fletcher!” He took her hand, and replied, “Trent Boyd’s the name, glad to meet you, New Orleans or Memphis!?!”

“Memphis,” she answered, “born and raised there, going home to visit the folks.” “That’s nice,” he replied, “I’m going on to New Orleans myself, a long weekend getaway!” Just then the no smoking and seat belt lights came on, and a flight attendant announced that they would be taking off in about two minutes. “I guess we had better get ready,” Sonja said, while reaching for her seat belt. “Yeah,” replied Trent, “if we go down we better be belted in, for all the good it would do.” “Please don’t say that, I’m scared to death of flying,” she said in a nervous voice, “joking about it just makes it worse for me!” At first Trent thought she may have been joking, but the look on her face told him that she really was terrified of flying! “I’m sorry, Sonja,” he said soothingly, “you’re right, it was a bad joke, here, let me hold your hand during take off, it will make you feel better!” Gripping his hand like a steel vice, Sonja was obviously glad to have someone to hold onto, and Trent was a little taken back when she held his hand to her chest while waiting for the plane to take off.

“My god,” he thought, “her boobs are incredible,” even if he was getting a somewhat limited feel through her tight sweater. “I’m sorry I’m holding on so tight, but I really am frightened,” she offered! While trying to maneuver his fingers for a better feel, he replied back, “Oh, that’s all right, if it makes you feel better, it’s all right with me.” Soon the jet was taxiing out to the runway, and Sonja’s breathing became shallow and intermittent, a sure sign of hyperventilation. Deciding to take a real chance, Trent turned a little to face her, and reached his right hand over and held her leg, six inches or so above her knee. Acting as if he were just trying to protect her, he held her close, while all the time enjoying the sensation of having one hand buried in her huge chest, and the other one on the inside of her smooth bare thigh! “Hold on,” he whispered into her ear, “here we go,” as the plane hurtled down the runway, gaining speed with each passing second. Sonja held on to Trent even harder, as she closed her eyes, hoping that they would get air born as quickly as possible while Trent let his hand slide a little farther up her thigh, until it was actually under the hem of her dress!
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Blond In Asia

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As Marla wiggled her ass in the face of the half drunken Japanese businessman he reached out and slipped his hand between her legs and ran a finger along her g-string covered crack. After the quick feel, he stuck a thousand yen into her waist band and called out to the waitress for another drink. It was almost ten o’clock in the evening, and still the company men, as they are called in Japan, were drinking and carousing with there business associates. It was said that sake and geisha girls was the oil that kept Japan’s corporate structure lubricated. Well, Marla didn’t know about the business structure, but all of the executives in the Ty Ling bar were definitely “lubricated”!

Being blonde and from America was a big draw to Japanese males, probably because of the homogeneous society that was modern Japan. Since 99.9% of the residents were Japanese, there wasn’t a whole lot of variety as far as appearance was concerned, so being blonde and in Japan definitely made you an outsider, and Japanese men couldn’t seem to get enough of the American women! While corporate America complained about closed trade markets, one look at the Japanese lifestyle told an entirely different story. The Japanese wore American clothes, watched American movies, ate at American fast food restaurants, and listened to American rock music. Walking down Tokyo’s busy Ginza district, and you would have thought you were in Times Square with all the American logos burning in bright neon lights. Marla was just another American icon to be bought and sold, only her commodity was her very supple and sensuous twenty four year old body. Like she said to her American compatriots, “We’re just doing our part to help balance the trade deficit !”

Marla had answered and ad in the New York New about fabulous money to be made in the Far East, and going for an interview, she found out that while not very glamorous, working the bars and night clubs of Tokyo and Osaka could earn a pretty blonde girl five thousand dollars a week! The hours would be long, but the rewards great for someone with a little ambition. Marla was at the time working a legal secretary making seven hundred dollars a week, a salary that barely made ends meet in New York City, so a week later she was on a plane to Tokyo, getting ready to start a brand new career. She found out right away that you could indeed make five grand a week, but to do it, you had to let the free handed businessmen touch you in very intimate places, and while not a prude, it took her several weeks to become accustomed to the pawing and leering that she had to endure while dancing at the club. In her third week, Marla got her first proposal to make some real money. A young executive wanted to take her to a hotel and make love to her. He seemed like a likable sort, and he wasn’t drunk like most of the other men in bar that night, so she made arrangements to meet him in the hotel bar after her shift was over.

Like most Japanese men, Ken, that was the name he gave her, was short and lean. He was waiting in the bar for her, and together they rode the elevator up to a room he had previously taken. He helped her with her coat, and then ran his hands up and down the sides of her body, pausing to feel the swell of her hips. She turned away from him and asked him, “Be a doll, hon, and help me with my zipper!” With a steady hand he pulled it down, kissing her on her bare shoulder, and sliding the sequined garment to the floor. He carefully unhooked her bra and it too slipped off her body, exposing her 34D chest to the evening air. Her nipples immediately became erect as Ken reached around her and cupped them in his hands. Most Japanese men were pushy and rough with their woman, but Ken had a gentle touch that was starting to turn Marla on. She turned around to face him, giving him a straight on look at her magnificent chest, and while lifting his hands back to her boobs she asked softly, “Do you like them, Ken?” He nodded in the affirmative, and said, “American girls have much bigger breasts than Japanese women, I like them very much.”
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Wild Subway Ride

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Terri crammed her way onto into the third car of the Englewood-Howard subway line on her way to the Loop for work, and while it was only 7:00AM, the car was already packed like a can of sardines. After about a month of subway rides, Terri would get fed up and take her car to work, but that usually only lasted a day or two because of the horrible traffic and expensive Loop parking rates. The el was considerably faster and cheaper, if not more convenient than driving a car. On this Wednesday it seemed that it was packed tighter than normal as Terri was pressed between a well dressed business man and a mid forties woman who smelled of Chanel No. 5.

The car rocked back and forth as the train made it’s way from the far north side on it’s way down town, and having made the same trip thousands of times, Terri kind of put her mind in neutral and just swayed with motion of the car. She was gazing out the window at the passing apartment buildings, and hardly noticed Miss Chanel No. 5 starting to breath a little harder and more shallowly, and only when she felt the woman stiffen against her did she realize that something was up. Now looking the woman in the eyes, she could see that she was in some sort of discomfort. “Are you all right,” asked Terri? The woman just nodded her head and gulped down a breath of air. For the next several stops Terri watched to see that the lady was going to be okay as her cheeks now flushed a bright red! Terri felt the woman grinding herself into her and while trying to hide her short gasps of air, Terri couldn’t believe it, but she thought that the woman looked to be having an orgasm right on the train! She became more convinced when the woman’s body suddenly went limp and her breathing returned to normal, after which she gave Terri a weak smile and then looked away.

Terri was about to forget it the whole incidnt when she felt the unmistakable feeling of a hand sliding up the inside of her thigh up under her skirt! “My God,” she thought, “this is what happened to her fellow passenger!!!” Frantically looking around she couldn’t see anyone looking out of the ordinary. She looked to see if the business man pressed against her could be the culprit, but he was reading the newspaper in one hand and holding on to the over head bar with the other. “Can’t be him,” she thought as the hand had worked it’s way farther up her thigh until she could feel fingers softly brushing against the front of her panties!!! Should she scream? She was sure that if she did, the hand would be gone and she would surely look like a fool!!! Now the fingers had worked their way past the elastic on the leg openings and now were moving up and down her slit. “Shit,” she thought, “I can’t help it, I’m getting wet!!!” Now her own breaths came more shallowly, while as the car swayed too and fro it only heightened her arousal!
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