Sex Stories - Slut

Sex Stories – Slut

I wish I could count the number of times another woman has called me a slut…after last night, I’m not sure they were wrong.

Sex Stories - Slut
I don’t normally…

I can honestly say that I don’t normally do this sort of thing. I mean, I can count the number of one-night stands I have had on one hand. I’m just not the kind of girl that jumps into bed with every good looking piece of meat that buys me a drink. But at Sarah’s reception last night…

Sarah and Brian planned the day’s festivities so the wedding was just after lunch, a small ceremony of Sarah’s close friends and relatives, and then the reception – a party to top all parties – would be held in the evening.

It was a costumed affair. All of the bridal party was decked out in Victorian era costumes – Sarah and Brian were both in classic steampunk – top hats, parasols, and heavy, round goggles. It was ridiculously beautiful. And the men in Brian’s party were all dashing and handsome.

But the fun wasn’t just for the wedding, Brian and Sarah had requested that everyone arrive at the reception in costume as well. It didn’t have to be steampunk per se, but it did have to be a costume. The fancier the better…the invitation had said.

All three of Sarah’s bridesmaid were friends in high school – Sarah, me, and Michelle had all been cheerleaders, and Jill had always just ran with us. Needless to say, as soon as the party was over, Jill, Michelle and I took off to get costumes.

“What are you going with?” Jill asked.

“Sexy witch,” Michelle grinned, still a little drunk from lunch.

I laughed. “French maid, classic.” I giggled.

“Well, that leaves naughty nurse for me,” Jill stuck her tongue out.

“We are going to be the hottest sluts out there tonight, yeah!” Michelle shouted out the window like a teen on their first limo ride.

“What did you think of the Asher?” Jill raised her eyebrows.

Asher was Brian’s best man, a dark-haired, square-jawed Adonis the likes of which you expect to see in an airbrushed magazine ad, not standing beside your best friends, top-hatted, goggled husband. But he had jumped in completely and while Brian was the main affair at the wedding in a long coat and knee-high boots,  Asher had worn a costume that made him look like a dirigible pilot with a steam-powered mechanical hand complete with moving gears.

I leaned back in the seat and thought back to the ceremony, the way Asher and I had made eye contact more than once. But when it was time to walk down the aisle, Michelle got the honor of hitching a ride on his arm, not me.

“He was yummy,” Michelle giggled.

“And I saw the way he looked at you,” Jill pinched my arm like she was trying to bring me back from some dream world.

“If I wasn’t married…” Michelle rolled her eyes and put her hand to her chest like she was about to swoon “…I would have let him drive my gerbile, dirigi, you know, the balloon thing.”

“Dirigible,” Jill laughed.

Michelle rolled her eyes and turned back toward the window. I think she was a little surprised by how drunk she was.

***

When we got to the costume shop, the owner was exceptionally happy to see us. Apparently not many buy costumes in early April and the place hadn’t seen a customer all day.

“We have a number of French maid costumes,” the woman in her late fifties led me down a long aisle stuffed with everything from Cinderella dresses to female cowboy costumes complete with assless chaps. “Are you just looking for a shell or a complete ensemble?”

I wasn’t sure what she was asking. “Um…”

“Panty, garter, bra?” She pulled out a costume that had all of the pieces neatly bagged and on a hanger.

“Yes,” I didn’t know what else to say really. I mean, it was a party, didn’t I want the whole costume?

“Here you are dear,” she gave me the hanger, “you want to try it on, the dressing room’s right over there.” She pointed over her shoulder to a curtained room on the other side and then looked at Michelle. “Alright, giggle-face, what are you going as tonight?”

***

After a couple of hours, I was back in my hotel room trying on the costume. I have to admit, looking back on the experience, I had a feeling something was going to happen. I knew it right then, standing in front of the mirror with the little naked except for the arm-length white gloves and the little maid’s hat.

I looked hot. I mean, I don’t want to brag, but there I did. I looked…inviting. Hell, I was a little turned on myself.

***

When I stepped out of the cab at the hotel, I looked around for Michelle or Jill or anyone else I knew for that matter, but I didn’t see anyone. I was just about to walk inside when I heard the thunder of a motorcycle. It was loud, but as it pulled in under the hotel’s canopy, it was obnoxious.

I turned and watched a tuxedoed man in a motorcycle helmet turn the beast off and swing his leg over the seat. Even without a face, just a big ball of black plastic and visor over his head, he was hot. Tall but not lean, more in a way that filled the suit out. I could see the size of his arms, in the sleeves, the v of his chest in the jacket.

He took his helmet off and I found myself staring at Asher. “Hey, Gabby.” His smile filled me with the warmth of a thousand suns and for some reason, I felt the garter on my thigh, the hem and seam of the gloves just below my shoulder, as if they wanted to remind me that I was hot and that Asher might think so too.

“Hey,” I tucked a renegade curl behind my ear and felt embarrassed by the fact that he had caught me blatantly checking him out.

“French maid, classic.” Asher looked me over and noticeably paused at my bare cleavage.

A little shiver of excitement ran along my skin. “Yeah, you know…” I didn’t know what to say but it didn’t matter, my feet apparently had some idea of what to do and they started toward the door involuntarily.

Asher grabbed the handle. “I want the first dance,” he looked me over again from head to toe. “Promise?” There was a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

“I’m not sure,” I looked down at my shoes, “maids don’t get to attend the party.” The words were just tumbling out of my mouth like a falling Jenga tower, I had no idea what was next.

“So…I can meet you in a room then?”

Images, little imagination gifs, ran through my head. Asher on top of me, his face a few inches from my own. My breasts dangling from my chest and bouncing the way they do. “Um, that’s against policy, I think.” I was warm all over.

“Right, fucking policy.”

Now, I should be honest here. I mean, that’s what this confession is all about right? You can’t lie during confession.

The entire first part of the party, you know, the time when Sarah and Brian were making their little speeches, when there was cake and everybody getting beverages, that whole time, I couldn’t stop looking at Asher.

During his speech, I just kept wondering what his sweat tasted like and what he would sound like when he came.  Something told me he was strong but soft, the kind of guy who was going to try and make love to you on the first night, even though all he wanted to do was fuck you.

Once the band started, a pretty cool band really that played songs everyone seemed to know and no one was embarrassed for the knowledge – Asher got two glasses of champagne and walked over to me.

I was standing with Michelle and her husband, desperately bored by whatever it was they were talking about, and taking every possible opportunity to keep my eye on Asher. Yes, I was a little scared when he turned from the bar with two glasses and started in the opposite direction. Yes, I had a bit of a heart attack, but when he spotted me, grinned, and then swung my way – I was thrilled.

“Michelle!” Asher stepped close enough that his movement brough the smell of his cologne. “And this must be…mister Michelle!” He chuckled and so did Trevor. (Ha, I never really how douche-y that name sounds when paired with Michelle.)

“Mind if I steal Gabby?” He turned and offered me one of the glasses.  I smiled as demurely as I could.

***

We drifted away from Michelle and her husband eventually finding a quieter corner along the far wall. The music was just beginning to draw guests onto the dance floor and, of course, hilarity ensued. People were silly, some were drunk, but everyone was having a good time.

I had kept Asher talking asking questions in between slow sips of champagne and had found out that he was a graphic artist who did some freelance work for websites and he even helped a friend with some tattoos when he wasn’t busy.

He had a pretty colorful tattoo of a scorpion on his shoulder and I ran my fingertip along the edge of the stinger just so I could touch him. “And you have that motorcycle,” I said when there was a pause in the music.

Yes, it was a queue, a little nudge to tell him that I was ready to do something else beside nurse a glass of cheap champagne and watch drunk people dance. Honestly, I could have stood there all night talking about nothing, I would have if that was the only choice, but I thought it would be nice to, you know, get some air.

“You wanna take a ride?” He sounded excited by the prospect.

“Yes,” I smiled up at him realizing that I would have to straddle, not only the machine, but him as well. I felt the garter against my thigh again, the little reminder of exactly how I looked.

We set our glasses down and slipped outside. The night air was cool against my skin, especially my half-naked thighs.

Asher picked up the helmet, turned, and looked me over. It was a slow look, one that wandered from the black, high-heeled shoes, up my legs, across the little ruffles of my skirt, around the curve of the corset style dress, and then onto the cleavage which, even I had to admit, was a bit excessive. “Seems a shame to put a helmet on,” he winked and handed it to the valet. “Hang onto this for me, will ya?”

The valet, who had been doing his best not to stare at me, grinned and took the bulbous plastic headpiece. “Yeah, sure.”

Asher swung his leg and the bike, straightened it, and started the motor before he looked over his shoulder, his dreamy blue eyes swirling with mischievous wonder, and nodded. “Hop on.”

A little thrill went through me. I had never ridden a motorcycle before and Asher’s was huge and loud and everything I had always disliked about the idea – but I couldn’t wait.

I stepped up to the bike, swung my leg across the black leather seat and then slid against Asher. Only my panty touched the seat, the rest of the little dress was bunched around my waist, but I didn’t care. I wanted to lift my feet and wrap them around him but I saw the little pedals I was supposed to put my foot against.

Slipping my arms around him was exactly like I thought it would be. His chest and belly were firm under the long suit and jacket. I shifted my thighs and pressed them against his waist.

Asher looked over his shoulder and grinned. Ready?

“Yes please.” I whispered the word as close to his ear as I could and felt the vibration of the engine move through my nethers.

***

The motorcycle was something entirely different than I expected. The noise was where I thought it would be, but I had never thought about the vibrations that ran through the machine. Whenever Asher would push the thing, I would squeeze him close, hold him tight around the midsection and squeeze him with my thighs, but that only focused the vibrations.

Now, the vibrator that I have at home are intensely pleasurable, the little knob can be focused on the exact spot and shatters me, but the I had no idea the motorcycle did the same thing. The thunderous racket tingled through my ass and seemed to find the same spot my vibrator did.

We cruised through the quiet parts of downtown, swinging left and right through the intersections and every time we stopped and started, I had to take a couple of breaths just to keep from cumming. “You alright back there?” Asher leaned back against me and wore his trademark grin.

“”I’m..uh…fine.” I squeezed my thighs against him and he put a hand back on my leg.

“Want to head back?”

“My place or yours?”

Her turned and our eyes met. My panties were soaked and I was sure there was going to be a wet spot along his lower back. My body was perched precariously close to an orgasm that was going to betray how much I was enjoying the ride.

***

I didn’t see anyone I recognized as I led Asher back through the hotel lobby and up to my room. We got on the elevator and it was the funniest thing. I knew we were both on the edge, the magnetism, especially after the ride around town, was painfully obvious. But as we stood in the elevator, the silly music coming from a speaker over our heads, we both stood like uncomfortable teenagers at a high school dance, two people who weren’t sure exactly what to do but determined not to screw anything up.

We got off the elevator and I took Asher’s hand and started to jog down the hall. I couldn’t wait any longer, the anticipation was killing me.

Once the door opened and we were both safe in my room, I closed the door, turned, and Asher pressed me against the wall and covered my lips in kisses.

All of the air went out of me as his strength pinned me against the wall and his warm lips pressed against mine. I wrapped my arms around his lower back and pulled him even closer.

I leaned my head back and sighed as his lips wandered down the side of my neck and his hand grabbed my breast. The bulge in the front of his pants ground against me and I shifted my body to put it against my clit.

My heart was racing. Our tongues swiped and dashed in and out of each other’s mouths.

His fingers found the hem along my costume’s bustline and he tugged the left side free, exposing my bra. His left hand cupped my ass under the little black skirt and his face dove toward my tits.

I let go.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. The strength of his grip on my ass and the heat of his breath along my breasts was too much. I closed my eyes and bit my lower lip as my entire body went rigid. God, it felt amazing, my pussy soaked my panties.

Asher didn’t seem to notice, preoccupied with my breasts, so, I took a deep breath and reached down between us. I wanted to get my hands on the bulge that was firmly planted at the top of cooze, grinding against me while his lips cascaded kisses across my tits.

He was hard, but folded over, trapped in his own underwear. As soon as my fingers traced the outline of his package, he started to coo his approval.

Using my body, I pressed forward, pushing him a half step away. His eyes were glazed with hunger.

I smiled and reached up to pull down the right side of my costume. My left breast and bra were already exposed but I have always thought of the girls as my best asset and…watching his eyes follow my finger’s every move was incredibly hot.

Reaching up, I ran my finger along the edge of the bra. “You want to see?”

He nodded.

I thought he was going to drool as I slipped my fingers along the front of the demi and began to pull the black lace down.

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My nipples stiffened as the cool air rushed across them and before I could even say anything, Asher’s my tits disappeared into Asher’s hands. His grip was firm and strong, and my body gave into his desire.

We kissed again and I pressed closer to him. I pulled his zipper down and reached into his pants, past the thin, smooth fabric of his boxers, and freed the beast.

It was impressive, a thick specimen that stood up in my grip already leaking lubricant across the palm of my hand. “You’re excited,” I said between our kisses.

“You have no idea,” He groaned as I pumped my grip along the length of his dick.

I bit his lower lip to stop him, grinned, and dropped to my knees.

He watched me, shifting his view from my breasts to his rigid pole and then to my lips. I stroked his shaft slowly. I was enjoying the anticipation, but it was torture for me as well, a test of control because all I wanted was to swallow it, all of it, until I felt it at the back of my throat, his throbbing desire, his pleasure.

I looked his heft over with my lips a half inch from him. My fingertips moved along the taut skin as light as a feather and his body reacted like I was shocking him with electricity. “It’s so big,” I pouted a bit, “I’m not sure it will fit.” I swept my free hand between my legs and along the damp fabric that covered my quim.

He smiled. “Won’t hurt to try,” he laid his hand gently on the back of my head, behind the little french maid outfit that was I was still barely wearing.

I shifted to my knees and slipped the mushroom-shaped head of his cock between my lips. A few drops of the clear liquid, salty and almost sweet, oozed across my tongue. I pushed him back to my throat, and took a deep breath through my nose.

My throat was full, my tongue moved along the hard underside of his root.

“Oh, oh my god,” he slowly began to pull out and I moved my head to comply as more pre washed across my tongue. “You are dirty,” the tip of his penis passed my lips with a popping sound, and I gave him a pouty look, like I didn’t want it to leave.

I ran my hand up his body, under his shirt and along the taut muscles of his belly before turning my fingers and lightly scratching back down.

His cock was in my mouth again. This time he pushed it to the back of my throat and then  out to my lips again. I held my mouth wide and wiped my tongue back and forth across his shaft.

With a low, almost growling moan of pleasure, Asher began to slowly fuck my mouth. I pulled the thin, black fabric between my thighs aside and spread my lips. I was dripping wet. My middle finger dipped inside, I needed something there, something to stretch me. The orgasm was already breaking over me, every nerve tingled as Asher’s hips thrust back and forth slowly.

“Ohhhh…” he cooed and I could taste the change between his pre and the load he was going to deliver if I didn’t stop.

And I was just about to pull away and force him to save himself, hold his orgasm back, but my second, thanks to three fingers matching Asher’s rhythm, was becoming my third and, besides, I knew we had all night.

I started to suck every time he drove his cock to the back of my throat.

He almost jumped the first time. His eyes went wide and he looked down at me, it almost looked painful, how hard he was trying not to cum. “I’m going to…”

I pulled my hand from between my legs and cupped his balls with my glistening fingers and moaned.

Asher’s eyes closed and he leaned forward until his hand touched the wall behind me. “I’m cumming,” he panted and I watched the muscles along his stomach go rigid before his cock swelled and the first wash of warmth coated my mouth.

I swallowed as more gushed out and down my throat.

Asher looked down at me, so I pulled away knowing at least one little squirt would land on my face. It did, a little splash of white cream hit my upper lip and the side of my nose.

I reached up and stroked the last few drops out while I stared into his eyes. “You liked that,” I teased and felt the last of his orgasm trickle across my breasts. I stood up and ran my finger through the mess before I slipped it between my lips.

“You’re unbelievable,” Asher sighed.

“Got some left for me?” I couldn’t believe how demanding I sounded but my body was in charge now, not my mind and I wanted him to stretch me until my own cum was dripping down his thighs.

“Not yet,” he pushed my shoulders back until I was against the wall and then kissed me. It was so much hotter than I even thought possible, his tongue in my mouth after I had just swallowed his seed.

And then he dropped to his knees. “It’s my turn,” he grinned, “I saw you warming it up for me.”

Before I could protest, his mouth was latched against my pussy, his tongue between my lips. I could barely breathe.

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