Chocolate Lover Read online

  ‘So, are you ready to say it yet, Sarah?’

  ‘Say what?’

  ‘That you are a beautiful woman. And, I want you to promise me you won’t put yourself down any more. Your body is amazing. I’m going to prove it to you tonight.’

  ‘I promise, Jake. I promise. Now untie me.’

  As I answered, he sucked one taut nipple into his mouth. The heat was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the cool room. He sucked hard, grazing his teeth over my hard flesh without actually biting down. He toyed with the other nipple, his fingers teasing while his mouth tortured. I bucked my hips towards him, inviting him to touch me. But, he ignored my silent pleas and continued his lazy teasing of my nipples.

  He got up from the bed to shed his shirt and pants. I watched as he stood naked, his cock rising in the darkness. I was desperate to have him, and he knew it. He was going to make me wait. He sat down again, his hip resting next to mine. I waited for his next move, but he just looked at me, devouring me with his eyes.

  ‘Is that all you have to say?’

  ‘I told you, I promise. Now let me go.’

  ‘There was more. You are beautiful, and I want to hear you say it.’

  His finger slid over my wet lips, then all the way inside me, his palm rubbing gently over my hard clit. I tried to rub myself against him harder, but he kept pulling away from me. I moaned in disappointment as he smiled, enjoying my plight.

  ‘I want to hear you admit it. Admit you are a beautiful woman, no matter what size you are. I love you, Sarah. And, I think you are the hottest fucking woman I’ve ever seen.’

  I couldn’t answer. I was too focused on his finger teasing me, his words hitting me like a ton of bricks.

  ‘Come on, Sarah, say it.’

  His one finger became two, pressing me open further. I cried out, squeezing my eyes shut against the sensations.

  ‘Open your eyes, Sarah. Look at me.’

  I did as he asked, staring up into his blue eyes. Even in the dark, they were sparkling. He pulled his fingers from my cunt and brought them to my mouth, making me suck them clean. It had been so long since I tasted myself. It made me even hotter.

  ‘Say it, Sarah.’

  ‘James, enough. I need you to fuck me, I can’t wait any more. I want it.’

  ‘Not good enough. But, it’s a start.’

  He got up and moved down the bed. He pushed my thighs wide apart, and settled between them. He opened my pussy, letting the cool air hit me. I shivered, both from the cold and the feel of his fingers on me. I felt his tongue slide up and down over my wet slit. His teasing strokes avoided my clit each time, despite my efforts to move him closer with my hips. He stayed one step ahead of me, making all my squirming worthless. Finally, he took pity on me and wrapped his lips around my clit. He sucked hard, drawing it into his mouth. His fingers were back in my cunt, working in a steady rhythm with his tongue. I was practically weeping from the pleasure, my body unable to take much more. The noises from my throat were foreign even to my ears; the sounds of pure need.

  ‘Say it, Sarah.’

  ‘OK. I’m beautiful. And, I look good just the way I am. Now fuck me, please, fuck me, James.’

  He moved up next to me again, letting my hands free from their bondage. I reached out for him, but he took my hands between his, rubbing them to warm them up. He moved over me, pressing my hands back to the mattress. I could feel his cock right against my wet pussy. I tried to move him inside me, but again he evaded my every move.

  ‘Fuck me. Please, fuck me, James. Fuck your beautiful wife right now.’

  His smile disappeared and his hands released mine. I don’t know where the condom came from, or how he got it on so quickly, but the next thing I felt was his cock, teasing me open. Slowly, so damned slowly, he slid inside me. I couldn’t do anything but feel him, nothing else was getting through. All my senses were concentrated on his cock going into my cunt. I was babbling as he fucked me, my legs wrapping around his body. I was moving with him, letting him take me, my body offering up no resistance. I knew I wouldn’t last very long; my body was so overloaded with sensation. With every slow, deliberate thrust, I could feel myself rushing closer and closer to orgasm. James grunted in my ear, his own pleasure evident. I felt full, stretched; my whole body felt like it was pushed to its limit. James swivelled his hips, grinding my clit against him before thrusting into me harder and deeper.

  ‘Come for me, Sarah. I want you to come.’

  Everything started breaking away, my mind falling to pieces as my body tightened under his weight. My pussy started to quake, pleasure bordering on pain shooting all through my body. I felt like I was being pulled apart by the joy of it all, his cock drawing every last ounce of feeling out of my body. I couldn’t think or breathe. All I could do was come. It seemed like it would never stop, wave after wave crashing over me until I felt James drive into me harder, matching my climax with his own. It was so perfect, so sublime; I could hardly believe it was real.

  Reality was slow to return. James rolled from my body and lay next to me, his strong arms refusing to let me go.

  ‘So, my beautiful wife, did you learn your lesson?’

  ‘I think so, but you never know. I might just need some more persuasion. After all, did you see my ass in those blue pants?’

  A Lucky Man

  by Lucy Felthouse

  As a guy, I’m occasionally asked, ‘Are you a leg, breast or bum man?’ My usual reply is a smile and a shrug. Perhaps I’m then mistaken for a homosexual, because my response generally makes the poser of the question walk away in disgust.

  It’s not that I don’t like women; far from it. It’s just that I don’t know the answer to that particular question. It shouldn’t be such a difficult one, I know that. The problem is I like all three. So much so that I can’t even begin to choose between them.

  I like my women voluptuous. So to be asked to pick a favourite from an ample pair of breasts, spilling out from a corset, a fine ass in a figure-hugging pair of jeans or a sturdy pair of thighs capable of … well, use your imagination – it’s just impossible.

  I have a lady. I’ve actually just described her pretty well. She has the most magnificent pair of tits I’ve ever seen. I’m not a small chap and yet her breasts more than fill my hands as I knead, pinch and slap them. Likewise with her ass. It’s firm yet pliable, and I love nothing more than to grab great handfuls of her bottom as we kiss, pulling her to me so our bodies mash together. Her thighs also drive me wild with desire. Those milky-white expanses of skin hold so much promise. They’re capable of turning me into a pile of mush as she grips, tenses and bounces on me when we make love.

  But I couldn’t pick a favourite of the three. Her lovely legs, breasts and bum are part of her; they make her what she is. And I desire her more than anything. My sexy lady.

  She issexy, you know. She never believes me when I tell her, but she is. I look at her with her long, wavy chestnut hair, impish grin and startling green eyes, and I want her. Those stick-thin models and celebrities with jutting bones and concave tummies do nothing for me. Give me my beautiful shapely lady any day.

  I love nothing more than to lay her down on our bed and worship her. I’ll kiss her until we’re both panting with lust, and then I’ll start to remove her clothes. I start somewhere different each time, just so she doesn’t know exactly what to expect. My favourite, though, is starting from her feet.

  Say she’s dressed casually: a jeans and T-shirt ensemble. I’ll remove her socks, caressing her feet as they are revealed. I’ll then slide a hand up each of her trouser legs, my fingers gliding along her smooth calf muscles. She always complains that they’re too big and that she can’t get long boots to fit, but I think it’s nonsense. No skin and bone here, just beautifully smooth flesh and nicely tapered ankles, perfect for locking together around my back as we make love. I don’t know what she’s complaining about. Crazy woman.

  Next I’ll remove her jeans, flipping open her belt and butto
n, then easing down her fly. I’ll reach underneath her to grab the waistband, and she’ll wriggle as I pull, revealing more and more of her tantalising flesh. Once the jeans are discarded, I’ll lie flat on my front and bury my head between her thighs. My hands will be roaming, grasping at her buttocks and her thighs, pulling her fragrant pussy closer to my face. I’ll inhale her scent through her scanty underwear, and groan appreciatively. My cock will already be rock hard.

  I’ll nuzzle at her now-damp crotch, teasing her sensitive flesh, a promise of what’s to come. She’ll start to moan, craving her release, but I’ll unhook my hands from their fleshy playground and manoeuvre myself so I’m kneeling on the bed.

  I’ll hold out a hand for her to give me hers, and pull her into a sitting position. I’ll whip her T-shirt off, sucking in an appreciative breath at the sight of her. A pastel-coloured stone will twinkle brightly from the middle of her gently rounded tummy, and her fantastic tits will threaten to pop out of her bra. They’re traffic-stoppers, those. A danger to society. And what’s even better, they’re all mine.

  By this point, I’ll already be desperate to make love to her. There’s just something so tempting about her. Her warmth, her softness, it all adds to my longing. I just want to plunge my cock into her, hear her moans in my ear and watch her beautiful face contort as she comes, pussy contracting around my cock.

  But I’m getting ahead of myself. When I’ve managed to get a grip on myself after setting eyes on her heavily burdened bra and its contents, I’ll slip a deft hand around her back and pop it open. Sliding the straps down her creamy shoulders, I’ll plant kisses on each millimetre of exposed skin. Shoulders, arms, hands. Décolletage, breasts, nipples. Hips, waist, pubis. I’ll slip my fingers into the sides of her pants and slip them down, my mouth heading southwards too.

  She likes to style her pubic hair. Sometimes there’s not a single hair there, and my tongue trails over naked flesh, delving lower until it slips between her nether lips and tastes her sweetness. Other times there is a landing strip, or a full but short bush. I’m not fussy. As long as I get to dip my tongue into her juices and make her writhe and gasp beneath me, I’m happy.

  For the purposes of this particular tale, let’s say that her pussy is completely bald. My tongue will practically trip over itself in its haste to pleasure her and hear those sexy noises she makes. The bare skin is even more sensitive and if I have stubble on my chin, she loves to feel it scraping against her, the abrasion inspiring a pleasure-pain reaction. She may gasp, but her pussy can’t lie. It oozes juices, which smear across her ample thighs, and glistens, pink and inviting.

  I will dip my tongue between her fleshy folds and taste her. Her natural lubricant is sweet, and the taste and smell simply act as an aid to turn me on more. My cock will definitely be making its presence known by this point, straining against the confines of my underwear and jeans. But it’s not about me, it’s about her. I am nothing if not a gentleman; I like to know my lady is satiated before I seek my own release.

  My tongue will play in her pussy, smearing her juices all over her puffy flesh and swollen clitoris. I will lick and nibble and suck and tease, anything my lady desires. Should she arch her back in passion I will grab her ankles and push so her knees are bent up to her chest, exposing yet another erogenous zone.

  Her tiny puckered hole resides between the finest buttocks I’ve ever seen. Smooth, pale globes of flesh, which silently scream at me to play with them. Grab them, squeeze them, slap them, part them … The latter is what I will opt for on this occasion, giving me easier access to her ass.

  By now, it will be slick with the juices that have run down from her pussy. My tongue will delve deeply into the crevice between the ample mountains of flesh and seek the hidden treasure. Her simultaneous tensing and gasping will assure me that I’m in the right place. The tight ring of flesh will be trying to suck in my tongue as I probe and delve deeper, stimulating her sensitive nerve endings and causing her pussy to contract and expel yet more wetness.

  One of my hands will slide up to her clitoris, gathering some lubrication on the way. I’ll smother the swollen nub of flesh with her liquid arousal and then stroke it lightly at first, then will increase the speed and pressure as I continue to torment her ass. I will sense that her climax is imminent and replace my tongue with my fingers, sliding two straight up her now-relaxed hole, and my tongue will go to work on her clit.

  She loves to have her ass played with. Whether during foreplay or penetration, it doesn’t matter. She once confided to me that it speeds up her orgasm, and increases its intensity. That, my friend, is a valuable nugget of information that I have utilised again and again, for mutual benefit.

  On this occasion, my fingers will be doing their work, thrusting in and out of her tight ass as I suck and lick on her pussy, teasing her to the brink of orgasm. I know, though, that I won’t be able to keep her on the edge for long. I try to tease her and keep her teetering, but I know that soon my fascination will win out. I will grant her release and watch, transfixed, as her face transforms into one of agony and divine happiness rolled into one.

  At the same time, I will be unearthing my cock from the confines of my clothing, ready to slide it deep inside my stunningly beautiful lady. It will be hot to the touch and oozing pre-cum. Both of these states will be increased further when I push into her tight velvet hole.

  Seconds later I’ll bury myself deep inside her. We will rock together, our bodies intertwined, her luscious flesh sliding against mine. Her erect nipples will scrape against my chest, providing extra stimulation for us both. We’ll fuck in this way for a while, until I become frustrated at the limitations. From this position I cannot worship her in the way that she deserves. Her beauty is hidden beneath me. I will flip us over so she is astride me.

  What I see when she is on top of me never fails to take my breath away; not to mention flood yet more blood into my shaft. Her luscious chestnut hair bounces around her shoulders, framing her face, which is all smiles. Her tits immediately catch the eye – how could they not? – hanging full and tempting like delicious fruits. I cannot resist a taste, licking, sucking and biting at them. She gasps and thrusts her jiggling flesh more forcibly into my face, inviting more, harder.

  When I am done devouring her breasts, my hands reach around her hips to grab her ass – I can’t help it. Her ass is full, yet firm, and it tenses and relaxes as she lifts and lowers her delectable cunt on to my cock. I’ll squeeze and stroke her cheeks, maybe pull them apart and explore the tight little ring nestling between them. I daren’t do it for long – if I trigger her orgasm, I’m done for. There’s no way I can hold off when her velvet walls start to spasm and milk my cock for all it’s worth.

  Instead, I will move on to my last but not least love: her legs. All I can reach from this vantage point is her thighs. Planted either side of mine, she continues to rhythmically pump up and down and I feel her muscles tense and relax; the ample flesh is soft and oh-so-inviting. We are connected in the most intimate way and yet I want more, I always want more. I cannot get enough of my buxom babe.

  Another reason I adore my lady’s figure so is that it is strong. Feminine, and yet solid. I know that we can play rough and she can take it. She loves it as much as I do, if not more. I’ll grab her hips and force myself up into her. My cock sandwiched between her engorged folds, her juices sliding out and smearing over my lower abdomen, her clit brushing against me.

  We are on the verge of a frenzy. Once we cross the line, there’s no going back. It’s a race to the finish line, except we aim to cross it together. I’ll reach between her legs and stroke her clit – it doesn’t take much. Soon she is crying out and her pussy is driving me to my own climax, its tight squeezing and releasing causing me to spurt my own violent release.

  I’ll pull her down for a kiss as we ride out our orgasms, my hand tangling in her thick mane, our tongues deeply caressing one another’s mouths. Her arms will come to rest on either side of my head, her tits
squashing against my chest. Then I’ll roll her gently off me onto the bed and position myself so my head rests on her shoulder, her arm around me. From here, I can continue to caress her; my fingertips drift across her breasts, her stomach, an aimless pattern that relaxes us both.

  This is a blissful ending to a perfect session. We have both enjoyed each other’s bodies, and now we are taking comfort from one another in a companionable silence. I reach over her with my free arm and crush her tightly to me, silently expressing my affection and love for everything that she is. My love, my rock, my passionate and beautiful woman.

  And after all that exploration, I still can’t decide. Leg, breast or bum? My lady has all three, and they’re all mine. I’m a lucky man.

  The Beautiful Move in Curves

  by Elizabeth Black

  The more Olivia Taylor read, the angrier she felt. Who the hell was this clown?She felt the heat rise in her face as her indignation grew. Since Kevin was the only person within fifty feet of her, she dealt him a blast of her wrath. Kevin didn’t mind. He was used to Liv’s spirited tirades. She leaned on Kevin a lot. He was her favourite ‘friend with benefits’. He was her trusty sounding board, and today he would hear how she felt very sore about such a moronic article. This is not the sort of thing I should be reading only a few hours before speaking on a panel about how fat women are sexy.

  Liv was taking a break from packing their gear for the science fiction and fantasy convention they were attending. She and Kevin were manning their sex toys and erotic books table. When she was not scheduled to speak on panels, Liv would work the table with him.

  Liv poked one manicured finger at the computer screen. ‘Can you fucking believe this crap? This idiot wrote an article trashing women he thinks are too fat by calling them “butterbodies”.’ As Liv continued to read the article, her blood pressure rose with each word. ‘You’ve heard of “butterface”, right? She has a hot bod, butterface is so homely she could stop a sundial? Well, this is the reverse. Her face is smoking hot, butterbody is dumpy. He put Salma Hayek on his list of “butterbodies”. Are you fucking kidding me? What guy in his right mind would think that Salma Hayeklooks like a slag? He says she has a beer gut? She just had a baby, moron!’