Fucking Hot

I don't want to sound like a broken record. (Oh, my gosh, what is the next cliche like that going to be? CDs will soon be obsolete, as well. And the songs you download from iTunes can't be scratched or warped or left in the sun. You can no longer lose an LP to an old boyfriend...) Where was I? Oh, yes. I don't want to sound like a deleted iTunes file, but man, these stories are so fucking hot. As my fourteen year-old self would have said, "They're hella fine."

I shuffled the order a bit, and put the first one last and last one first, just to mix things up. Read them. Ask your friends to read them. Tell your boss (if you work in that sort of an office) to read them. Then vote for your favorite. I'll announce the winners (and the prizes) on Monday!

Entry #1 Fuck Me Now

That's it. You've gone and done it. You pushed me right over the edge. I am like a cup of water, and you just added that one extra drop that made me overflow.

You smiled. That was all it took. Your adorable little sideways grin as you said "Good Morning Suz." My temperature rose, my clit swelled and throbbed between my thighs. You made me come without a single touch.

I don't care that it's not right, and I don't care that we're at work. I want you so much, I'd take it right now, on the conference room table with our CEO watching for all I care. I just know I need you, naked and moving beneath me. I want to grab a hold of your shirt, rip and pull, send buttons flying. I want to rub my face against your furry chest and belly, lick your neck and bite your ears. I want your long fingers grasping my hips, guiding me to you.

I need to hear you call out my name, I want to scream out yours instead of moaning into into my pillow at night. Fuck me now, right now, in front of God and everybody. I am yours for the taking.

*****

Entry #2 Hide and Fuck

"Turn on the fan."

"I like it steamy. It's more cinematic."

"It will swell the window moulding."

"Test a noodle."

He scowled and turned on the fan.

"Well, aren't we Mr. Hippity Happy tonight."

"Sorry, it's the fucking rain."

"I love it when you talk like that."

"Huh?"

"When you say fucking. When you say, 'it's the fucking rain.'"

I shoved a noodle between his pouty lips.

"Done?"

"Al dente. Perfecto."

"I know a fun fucking rainy day game."

"Doctor?"

"Nope."

"Delivery Driver?"

"Nah."

"Naked Twister?"

"That would be fun – with friends –but I was thinking Hide and Fuck."

His right eye twitched.

"Here. Rinse the noodles while I hide."

"But what if I don't want to fuck?"

"Then I'll fuck you. Rinse and count – and think nasty thoughts."

I ran upstairs and pulled my friend Juliana from the closet. I'd snuck her in. Fucking rainy day surprise.

"Quick," I whispered, kissing Juliana's pale neck and smacking her cute little ass. "We'll hide in the shower."

We waited. And teased. And waited.

Finally, after we turned on the water to clue him in, he slid into the curtain of hot fucking rain, into the dark cave of a shower.

"Surprise!"

We wrapped our naked, wet and oiled bodies around him.

"Hot damn!"

"Who's pussy is this?" I asked. "Yours, of course."

"Mine, of course," Juliana giggled.

Juliana wrapped her lips around his cock while I lathered his balls.

"Infuckingcredible," he sighed as we pleasured every inch of his body. "I hope it fucking rains all winter long."

*****

Entry #3 Rocket’s Red Fucking Glare

The horrific noise of Eddie Bilger’s old Good Humor ice cream truck crashing into my rose garden sent me running to the front yard half-dressed in a tennis skirt and sports bra.

Eddie flew out of the truck, swatting at his neck.

“What the fuck!”

“So sorry! There was a fucking bee in the cab.”

I circled the truck, my eyes brimming. “Oh Eddie! You flattened my ‘Barbara Bush’ signature rose!”

Eddie stood there looking pathetic in a faded “I Piss Excellence” t-shirt. I realized I hadn’t really noticed Eddie in a long time. He wasn’t the ice cream boy anymore.

“Just get me a popsicle.”

I followed him inside the truck.

“Well, you’re certainly all grown up Eddie,” I said, unwrapping the rocket pop, licking it slowly and biting off the shiny red tip.

Eddie grinned and took it from me, sliding the rocket's red glare between my thighs, teasing my swollen clit with it and soaking the thin fabric of my blue lace thong. Patriotic juice ran purple down my leg.

The popsicle fell from his fingers. He unclasped my bra, moaning as he sucked hungrily at my breasts and finger-fucked my sticky wet cunt. I popped the buttons on his jeans.

“Sweet Jesus, Mrs. Linguine.”

“That’s Linguisto, Eddie, but for God’s sake, just call me Sarah.”

Then the Ice Cream Man let me have it, banging me from behind against the freezer doors, his grown-up dick hot and so fucking hard in my treat-flavored pussy. And I hardly gave Barbara Bush a second thought.

*****

Entry #4 Finally Fucked

“Hi.”

It was instant – the desperate desire to tear his clothes off, to be fucked until I didn’t know my name.

Our kiss was hard, electric. His teeth grasped my bottom lip, his hand going to my braless chest and my erect nipples.

“Fuck me.” I moaned into his ear, hands wandering to his zipper. He shook his head. We weren’t alone. His mother was in town, and staying with him, as damned inconvenient as that was. He led me inside by the hand. I smiled at his mom, hugged her hello. Over her shoulder I mouthed “Fuck me.” He shrugged his shoulders, helpless.

We sat on the sofa, chatting about inane everyday topics, but my mind wasn’t focused on conversation. He stroked my bare leg, his touch sending spirals of heat through my body. My pussy clenched, tingling with need. I stood up. “Anyone for a refill?” I gestured to our empty wine glasses.

I called for help with the corkscrew. As he entered the kitchen, I threw myself at him, falling to my knees and unzipping him in one smooth movement. I took his cock out and placed it in my mouth. Sucked once, sucked twice. I looked up at him.

“Fuck me.” I stroked his hard on, licking at the tip with my tongue, begging with my eyes. My hand was under my skirt, and my scent filled the kitchen.

He hauled me to my feet, bending me over the sink.

“Fuck you.”

"Finally."

*****

Entry #5 Fuck in the Blank

“For fuck’s sake,” Max sighed, staring out the window at the downpour.

“I need a noun.”

“I’ve had these tickets for months.”

“Come on, Max. Person, place, or thing.”

“Madlibs are for kids, Rita.”

“Not the way I want to play.”

Rita arched her back as she perched on the edge of his dorm room bed, and finally Max started to feel less miserable about the fact that the concert had been cancelled. He’d been trying to do her all semester.

“All right. How about fuck?” he asked, coming toward her.

“That’s not a noun, Max.”

“I don’t care.”

She put up a hand to stop him. “Adjective, please.”

“Wet.”

She uncrossed her legs and then crossed them again. He saw a flash of pretty pink panties.

“Adverb.”

“What’s that again?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Don’t you pay any attention when I’m tutoring you?”

“What do you think?”

“An adverb modifies a verb, an adjective, or other adverbs.”

He was hard. He couldn’t believe he was hard listening to her talk about parts of speech.
He pushed forward, moving against her until she was pinned against the wall, the book of Madlibs discarded, his mouth on her neck.

“Adverb,” she sighed. “Like quickly, roughly..,.”

His hand was in her hair, fist around her caramel-colored ponytail

“…painfully…”

Skirt up, those panties pulled to the side.

She turned her head to look at the Madlibs open on the pillow.

“Verb me, baby.”

And he did.

*****

Entry #6 Fuck in the End

“So, where is it?” I asked my host, laying my napkin on the table. “The finished manuscript?”
“In the living room, on the desk,” he replied, staring at me over the top of his wine glass. “You may go look at it, if you want.”
I stood, heading towards the desk, conscious of his eyes on my retreating posterior. I had done a good job, I thought to myself. When we had begun this collaboration, I was certain I was not his type. I was nothing like the women he wrote about; a petite, mousy assistant professor, with no chest to speak of. Not an insatiable D-cup, buxom and bored. So, when I found myself overwhelmingly attracted to him, I kept my flirting to a bare minimum. But after two months of working late nights with each other, my nigh unconscious tempting seemed to be working. I would catch him ogling my ass, or gazing like a vampire at my neck. Did he want me? Enough to seduce me tonight?
I came to the desk, and picked up the manuscript; the first work to have my name on it.
“Fuck Me-dieval!?!” I bellowed. “I refuse to have my name on something with fuck in the title!”
Suddenly, he was behind me, his hard warmth pressing against my rear, his arms pinning me to the desk.
“Kyle, where would you like it instead?” he whispered into my ear, as my groin mirrored his.
“…lower…” I murmured back. “Fuck in the end.”

*****

Entry #7 Fucking Up, Down, Up....

In the lobby, their kiss pushed her against the doors as numbers counted down. Her fingers fumbled with his belt, button, fly, finally pulling his cock out. His hands worked the buttons on her blouse, fingertips slipping in to tease nipples as the doors dinged open and they stumbled inside.

Teeth on his earlobe, she whispered, “Fuck me.”

His hands caressed her legs, sliding up, raising her skirt and yanking down her panties. She moaned as he picked her up, walked a step to pin her against the glass wall, and slid his hard cock into her ready pussy.

“Fuck, yes, right there,” she yelled as he groaned, pumping in and out of her faster than the music’s beat.

Their frenzy didn’t pause as the elevator dinged, attempting to pick up more passengers. Their mingled cries alerted would-be riders before the doors opened; few chanced to peek inside.

His hands gripped her legs, pulling her to him with each thrust while his teeth and lips worked over her lips, neck, breasts. Her hands caught in his hair and at his shoulders as she pushed her hips against him, feeling him inside her.

With a final drive into her, he came; hearing his growl brought her to orgasm. He leaned against her as they breathed together, helped her slide to the ground.

The doors dinged open, their stop. Grinning, he said, “Fucked up; fuck down?”

She replied by pushing him against the glass, massaging his cock to erection, kissing forcefully.

*****

Entry #8 A Mindfuck

The hotel room has a desk chair. I sit down and rest my arms on the chair arms. You position the blindfold over my eyes, all I can smell is your scent...Jean Patou, Joy. The heady scent of roses floods the air as you remove my tie. My left wrist is tied to the arm of the chair. I hear your scarf slip from your shoulders, silk against your wool dress, the snap of spark against my right wrist from the static. I am blind and firmly fixed to the chair. I jump as I hear a knock on the room door...I hear twin movements towards me, but all I can smell are roses. The sound of clothes brushing together, the wet smack of lips meeting. The rustle as clothes fall from shoulders to the floor...the thump of shoes leaving feet...the snick of a zipper...more wet kisses...a sharp intake of breath...low murmurs...bodies falling to the bed. Bodies rolling...feet pushing against the bedspread...more breathing, heavy. A groan, skin slapping skin...slap...slap...slap. The bed rocking in time with the slaps of skin...faster and faster...bed, slap and breath...faster and faster. One sharp slap of skin...heavy breaths...the bed is quiet. Clothes being gathered...water running in the bathroom...the room door opens and softly closes. I smell roses and...another scent...sweat mixed with gardenias...lips on my lips...your hand moves under my skirt as you remove my blindfold...my panties are soaked through...I am ready for you.

*****

Entry #9 What the Fuck?

“She said it was her idea when she knew damn well it was mine! Stupid cow.”

“Mmm-hmm. Big stupid cow.” Jericho is on his knees now.

“That bitch. I mean, what the fuck?”

“I know. What the fuck?” He is under my dress now. Pushing it up.

“I am just so incredibly pissed.”

“I bet.” He pulls my panties aside. Plants a prim kiss on my clit. I sigh. Put my hands in his hair. “She is such a liar.” I say it with less venom.

“Liar,” he echoes. He pulls me to him, lays on his back.

“You’re not listening to me, Jer,” I say. But my body is hot liquid and want.

“I am. Bitch. Liar. What the fuck?” He plants me on him. His hard cock, bared and ready, slips past my peach colored panties. Into me. I hang my head and hold on.

“She was so…” I lose my words because my hips are moving and I’m riding him. He’s so deep and so perfect and I am warm. The flush in my chest feels rosy red. I know it is.

“Rude!” he says, thrusting up.

I hold his shoulders and my body coils. I tightens and my heart is all trippy skippy in my chest. I’m coming already. Anger fueling my pleasure. He pumps up under me, a slight grin on his face.

“I mean…” I start. But then I bite my lips because I’m coming.

“What the fuck?” Jer says and comes with me

*****

Entry #10 Fucking Password

“Hang on a sec, I’ve got voicemail.”

I didn’t pause my groping her luscious tits. I didn’t care about her voicemail. I just wanted to fuck her. Ever since she’d rubbed her bare toes against my cock during dinner, I’d been hard as a rock.

“Dammit, just hold on.” She twisted away from me, then dialed in for messages.

I refused to stop, too intent on shoving my throbbing prick into her. I reached up under her skirt and yanked down her thong. I slid one finger into her pussy, juices coating my skin. Damn, she was hot!

The automated voice blared over her speakerphone. “Please dial your password and press pound.”

“I did that, you sonofabitch,” she muttered. She punched in another set of numbers and followed the directions.

“Your password does not match your mailbox number.”

I was tired of that mechanical voice. “C’mon, baby. Forget your messages.”

She sighed, then unzipped my pants. Sliding her hand inside, she freed my hard dick, cool air washing over it. She dropped to her knees. “How about a blow job?”

My legs nearly buckled. A blow job was nearly as good as a fuck. And her blow jobs always led to more. “That’s it.” I groaned as her lips engulfed me. “Let me fuck your mouth.”

Instead of pulling me in deeper, she let go and jumped up. “Fuck! That’s it.”

“What is?”

“My password.” She dialed again, successfully putting in a four digit code. “My password is fuck.”

*****

Entry #11 Inn Fucking Credible

"Whoa, dude, I fucked Marcy this weekend."

"I don’t believe it."

"I did, man. She was at Jake’s barbecue, see, and I asked her if she wanted to hit the lake with me."

"So?"

"So we rented a boat, dude. Then, I took her to dinner at this little hotel. It got late, and she, like, suggested we stay over."

"Oh, she suggested it. Nice touch."

"I’m tellin’ you, dude."

"You are such a goddam liar."

"Once we got upstairs, she was pretty, y’know, passionate. She wanted my cock in her mouth before we did anything else."

"Uh-huh."

"And then I licked her out. You know how I love to eat pussy."

"Why would I know that?"

"She was really juicy. And, man, she got loud. She was screaming for me to fuck her, after a while."

"You sure she wasn’t talking about something else?"

"Of course I’m fucking sure, asshole. Anyway, she really knew how to move. I hardly had to do anything."

"Why would have to do anything, when you made the whole thing up?"

"Screw you, man, it’s true. Then she did this incredible massage thing on me, to make me get it up again so I could fuck her in the ass. She really wanted me to fuck her in the ass before we hit the sack. She wanted it up her ass, dude."

"So you said."

"Why the fuck don’t you believe me?"

"Because I’m Marcy. And I think your autodialer is messed up."

*****

Entry #12 Fucking with Rhinoceros

We're naked, kneeling on the bed, and his eyes get that dark look, all alleyways, dive bars and threat.

"What's your safeword?" His voice is menacingly soft.

"Rhinoceros," I breathe, and the syllables make my tongue feel stupid and fat.

He draws my head to his chest, stroking my hair. "Good girl," he murmurs.

Every time, our word is like a spell, whisking us to a place whose rules are absurd. His fist creeps into my hair, twists and pulls, and I melt, thinking, This is it, we're over the threshold and in the magic circle where this stranger can do whatever he wants with me.

"Slut," he hisses, hurling me onto the bed. I scramble to escape but he's a brute and a bastard and he wants to fuck. He yanks me back. "You're going nowhere, bitch."

I writhe beneath him, kicking and flailing, and he laughs at my efforts. When he straddles me, pinning my arms down with his legs, he's breathless and hot, as wired as a madman. He slaps my face, this side, that side. "Shut up!" he says. "Stop pretending you don't want it. You hear?"

My cheeks are burning as he flips me over then I'm head-to-toe burning as his cock surges deep. He fucks like fury, and again and again I'm crying, "Stop it! Let me go!"

I don't mean it, of course, but we're not in Kansas anymore and all that is normal is so beautifully warped.

*****

Entry #13 Holy Fuck

“Just look at him,” Maribelle whispered. The bartender was wearing a tight-fitting black tee-shirt. The muscles in his arms made her want to climb up on the bar and ask to be mixed.

“Don’t drool into your drink,” Joe nudged her. “I’m sure he gets hit on 18 times before Sunday.” He put his hand on Mary’s thigh, then let his fingertips slowly push up the hem of her miniskirt.

She sighed and shifted her hips. “He’s not getting what we’re offering.”

The dark-haired Adonis was suddenly in front of her. “Same way?” Even though he spoke English perfectly, a sultry accent lingered under each word he spoke.

Maribelle shook her head. “Something entirely different.” She swallowed hard. “You and me and him...”

His eyes lit up, and she caught a flush to his cheeks.

“...in the alley,” she continued.

“I’m off in ten,” he said, and turned toward the next customer.

Maribelle could see it already. She’d be bent over at the waist, sucking Joe, while the bartender fucked her from behind. This was a fantasy she’d treasured for years, without fruition. Joe had been the one to find the bartender—a man who fit her type to perfection. That lean hard body. Those fuck-me eyes.

Joe was kissing her when the bartender stepped out of the back door to meet them.

“I’m Joseph, and this is Mari,” Joe said, running his hands along Maribelle’s back.

“Jesús,” the man said as he took his place behind her.

*****

Entry #14 Local train, express fuck

"Your last day?"

"Yes, and since I knew you took the local on Fridays, I took it, too, to say Goodbye --and thanks."

"You'll be late..."

"It's OK. You were really kind to me. The others, "The 5:35 Irregulars", treated me like I was –old.”

“You’re not. We’re not.”

His heart pounded as he realized he’d never see her again. And he had so enjoyed flirting with her, making her blush in front of the others as they rode to Grand Central Terminal every day. He’d been more than provocative, but she’d never gotten angry. Faced with her exit from his routine he wanted her, now, on this evening commuter train. Caught off-guard, he was speechless. She took advantage of the moment.

“My stop’s next. Bye.” She put her hand on his shoulder, kissed him hard on the mouth. Then she walked down the aisle between the rows of napping commuters. Her stop was five minutes away.

“No chance,” he whispered as he quickly followed her. The door had barely closed behind her when he reopened it and stepped into the darkened passageway. She turned, shocked to see him, but he was kissing her before she could speak. Then he turned her around to face the exit, and roughly lifted her dress. He stepped up against her, pinning her while he unzipped.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

“You’re not old, Donna. You... are... hot,” he whispered in reply. "Now, should I stop?”

"God, no! Hard, please, and quick!”

*****

Entry #15 Fuck with Reality

The door was marked “private”. Whose brilliance had lead to the bedroom of my apartment having an adjoining door to the public storage was beyond me, but I don’t mind so much since last Halloween …

I’m lying in bed, masturbating to my favorite romance novel- Roman general, modern woman tossed back in time, you know the story. I have candles, my luxurious 1500 thread count sheets, lavender body oil- I like to do it right. The pulsing granite hard manhood of the general is pressing against Diana’s tight center when suddenly my bedroom door swings wide. I blink. Standing there is a stunning man in a stunningly realistic Roman Centurion costume and somewhere in the back of my mind I recall that today is October 31st.

“They told me… more beer… I guess… wrong door…” a flush is rising up his neck and I imagine a similar flow of blood rushing to a sudden massive erection.

“This is only the wrong door if you don’t want to fuck me right now,” I say. The flush deepens, his jaw tightens. The door closes, snaps pop and the faux armor falls to the floor. The snug fabric of his toga shows my intuition correct and my book hits floor as a truly granite hard cock presses against me. I come immediately and he thrusts into me more deeply than words can say.

I have a deadbolt now, to which he has a key. And the door is now marked FUCKING PRIVATE.

*****

Entry #16 Fuck Yes

Before I met him I had only used the word fuck twice; I was 15, and my mother promptly slapped me across the face; I was married and my ex called me worthless. It was an angry word- profanity used to express deepest rage, deepest disgust. Before him I had never gasped, sweating and quivering, “oh god yes, fuck me baby, fuck me harder, harder please,” lying on my belly with my ass in the air, clawing at the mattress like a cat in heat. Before him I had never fucked a man good and hard, riding him to a mutually explosive orgasm. Because of him, I got an email from my landlord asking if I was having any personal problems; the upstairs neighbor had heard yelling and swearing. We form a wicked plan. We sit in wait and hear footsteps signaling an unsuspecting neighbor with load of laundry. I wait to hear the washer lid open and let out a deeply satisfied moan. All sound of movement pauses. The water starts and he says loudly, “Oh yeah, baby, fuck me just like that.” Caught up in the game I gasp and moan and suddenly I see the light in his eyes change. Before I can blink my pants are gone and he’s fucking me so hard I scream in pleasure and shout “Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes!” And in the quiet of a ragged inhale a door slams and footsteps run all out up the stairs….

*****

Entry #17 Fucking Miles Davis

“Shhh…I think someone’s coming.” Her voice was raspy and hot.

“Yeah. Hello? It’s me.” He whispered thrusting deeper into her ass.

“No. I mean I think someone else is in the room.” She murmured louder as she twisted her reddened, sweaty face around.

A slice of light echoed from under the closed coat closet door. They both saw the looming shadow standing there on the outside of the door.

They didn’t move; they were suspended in mid-fuck. It was silent except for the slow drip of sweat that fell from her brow and pooled on top of a shoe box top. Pounding hearts, full deep breaths, lust, need and too much wine filled the small, dark space.

“Fuck it. Just fuck me.” Her need surpassed her fear of getting caught, like someone passing the baton in a race.

He pulled his wet cock out and drove himself inside her again. She closed her eyes; turned her head back toward the wall. Her fists grasped the plastic coated shelving and she began moving her hips up and down; meeting each penetrating rhythmic grind.

She felt her orgasm building as his cock shimmied against every splitting fiber deep within her.

“Fuck me hard. I’m going to come…” She said huskily; feeling the release of orgasm move across her body.

She crawled on all fours and opened the door, cautiously. Her eyes came face to face with Miles Davis, the party host’s black cat.

Good luck, to all of you fabulous fuckers!

XXX,
Alison