Truth or Dare (Includes: Forbidden, Surrender & Indecent) Read online

  There was still fucking going on in various dark parts of the airplane while Amy explained the whole situation to me. Flying did scare the hell out of her, until she figured out a way to get her mind off it — by fucking. And she explained that her “Fly United” pin was her way of letting others know that she was a member of the “Mile High Club,” people who’ve screwed in the air while going 500 miles per hour. Needless to say, Amy and I spent the rest of the flight together, in more ways than one.

  The last time I saw Amy, she was catching a connecting flight in L.A. I was glad to be back on the ground again, but for the first time, I hadn’t minded being in a plane. The first thing I did was head to the gift shop and hunt down one of those tiny “Fly United” pins. That seemed like a good investment for the return flight. What Amy told me was true: Sex is a great way to relieve airplane nerves. I proved that again on the flight back to New York, and I look forward to more red-eye trips. I still have my “fear of flying,” but I sure don’t have any fear of fucking.

  IT AIN’T CHEATING, IT JUST LOOKS THAT WAY

  I’m a happily married twenty-nine-year-old, and my husband, Chad, is quite a stud. Our sex life is always satisfying, so there’s no real reason to play around with anyone else. Besides, I fooled around a lot before I got married, and now loving one man is a nice change of pace.

  Chad goes out with his buddies occasionally, and from time to time I go to clubs with my old roommates to talk and joke about our many escapades, most of which involved sex. Music and dancing usually excite me, and I often return home in the wee hours, slightly drunk and extremely horny. More than once Sam has awakened to find me nibbling his cock. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t mind my going out.

  One evening I was at a club with the girls when our laughter was broken by an oddly familiar male voice asking permission to join us for a drink. I glanced up into a pair of teasing green eyes and almost choked on my gin and tonic.

  It was Jake, a policeman with whom I had had a wild affair before my marriage. A tingle shot through me. The memory of his hot kisses and warm caresses suddenly welled up and swept me away. We had broken up because of his career. I didn’t want to marry a man who might go out the door one day and get killed in the line of duty. But I had often thought about him — and his oversized tool.

  Jake’s gaze traveled with approval over my ample breasts, curvaceous hips and tanned legs. This really turned me on. He ordered another round of drinks and then did something unexpected. He drained his Vodka soda and kissed me lightly on the forehead.

  My girlfriends teased Jake about being a bachelor at the age of thirty-three. He reddened when they said he had grown balder. He replied — staring into my eyes — that some people’s looks improve with the years. Then he laid his arm across my shoulder, deliberately grazing my breast with his hand.

  When Jake asked me to dance, I accepted eagerly. He led me through the crowd to a small dance floor bathed in psychedelic lights. We squeezed in and joined the gyrating bodies.

  I love dancing to hot music, and the rhythm sounded like it was made for a jungle sex rite. My braless breasts bounced freely when I faced Jake, and when I turned around, my behind swayed invitingly. I was becoming more and more excited watching his sexy, well-built body groove to the music. My nipples hardened, pressing against the thin material of my blouse. From the way Jake stared I knew he wasn’t missing a single trick.

  A slow song was next, and as we rubbed together, I could feel he was aroused. He nibbled my neck and earlobe. Suddenly his thick tongue thrust deeply into my mouth, and we were locked like this until the song ended. When we elbowed our way back to the table, I had to walk in front to hide Jake’s bulging jeans from my friends’ eyes.

  At our dimly lit table Jake, my roommates and I recalled the great times we had had in our old apartment. Talking about those days made me secretly realize how tame my life had become since I married.

  Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the talk, but I was eager to recapture those wild days, and I was determined to capture them that night with Jake. My ex-roomies took turns dancing with him, and we all drank heavily until the place closed at 1 a.m. When Jake invited me over to his apartment for a nightcap, I promptly accepted.

  Jake started the car, then reached over to fondle my breasts. He kissed me passionately on the lips. Excited, I started rubbing the crotch of his jeans. The feel of the hard thickness there brought back memories of how great it had been having him inside me. I unzipped his fly. Jake kissed my breast through my filmy blouse, and I fondled his velvety penis. He pressed the accelerator, and we were off.

  As he drove, Jake caressed my breasts. Moving to my crotch, he lifted my skirt enough to poke a finger under my panties. His finger dipped all the way into my pussy, then rubbed the sticky love juices over my erect clit. He repeated this again and again as I squeezed and stroked his rigid rod. We were becoming too hot to stop, and I was relieved when we left the expressway and arrived at his place. He tongue-kissed me once more.

  We zipped and buttoned up and went into his apartment.

  Inside his bachelor pad the drinks began to hit me, and I sank dizzily to the couch. Jake sat next to me. I tried to undo my blouse, but he brushed my hands aside and undid the buttons himself, kissing my shoulders, then my breasts, biting my nipples lightly. Next, he unzipped my skirt and kissed my stomach. Then he lowered my panties an inch at a time, licking and caressing me as he traveled down my body. I lay back on the long fur couch. He was soon licking my pussy. I quivered and moaned. Frenching my pussy with his pointed tongue, he gently pinched my nipples, making them tinglingly erect. I couldn’t wait and exploded into a long, shuddering climax. I relaxed on the couch, but he had only begun his love work. He lifted my legs, placing them over his broad shoulders. Next he lowered his head and began biting and licking my buttocks. I flinched when he rimmed me. He was teasing me with every thrust of his tongue. I tried to pull away, but he held me down as he continued his persistent probing. Suddenly his tongue was all over my clit, and his forefinger now plunged deep into my backside. I squirmed, burying his finger and tongue deeper into my flaming orifices.

  At this point I was begging to be fucked. Jake slowly withdrew his finger from my rear and flicked his tongue one last time across my clit. He lowered me gently and slipped the bulging head of his swollen penis into my slit. I ached to have all of it. I pushed against him desperately, but he would give me only two more inches.

  “Please, baby, please,” I moaned.

  All of a sudden he penetrated me to the hilt in one swift thrust. The pain paled quickly as wild-riding pleasure overtook me. We made love in earnest, building to faster and more forceful penetrations. My back arched; Jake tensed. His strokes became shorter, harder. He held my buttocks tightly. Then when he seemed to have stopped breathing entirely, he suddenly came, choking out my name as he threw his head back. He collapsed beside me on the couch, and we lay there, glistening with sweat.

  After a while I got up, stretched and sauntered into the kitchen. I returned with a jar of honey. Jake watched me anoint his monstrous dick with the sweet amber goo. I applied a small amount to his nipples and began sucking them. I fingered his heavy sac. Soon he had grown to his full, curving nine inches. I licked the top of his penis and ran my tongue down its long vein. He winked at me as I hungrily went down on it, taking ever-greater portions into my mouth.

  Again I dipped my finger into the golden liquid, and when I wiggled it into his anus, he gasped. Jake closed his eyes as I moved down to lick his balls. Then I turned him over gently and gave his anus a thorough tongue-lashing. He moaned and tensed the cheeks of his behind. I turned him over again, went down on his cock — savoring the honey flavor and his slight male scent — and finished him off. When we awoke, dawn was breaking over Lake Michigan. I suggested we bathe, and Jake agreed.

  After he adjusted the bathwater to a comfortable temperature, we climbed into the tub and soaped each other. Then he turned the shower attachment on my
clit, and the pulsating water raised me to such a pitch that I was almost ready to come again. This made Jake’s dick rock-hard. I guided him into me, and we fucked right there in the tub.

  After our “shower,” we toweled each other dry. I was amazed that after a night of lovemaking I still longed to feel Jake probing and thrusting inside me. From the way he dried my body, lingering over each area, I knew he felt the same way. But I had to get home. We dressed and walked into the cool air of a lovely Sunday morning. He drove slowly across town, fondling my breasts through my blouse. Once again I rubbed the place where his thighs met, and he began to stiffen. I laughed, leaning back on the headrest and stretching my legs luxuriously.

  When we pulled in front of my apartment building, Jake grasped my shoulders, looked me in the eyes and kissed my forehead. Without speaking, I got out of the car. Entering the apartment, I was relieved to hear Chad‘s snores. I undressed in the living room, carefully slipped into bed and curled beneath the covers, warmed by his body. He turned over in his sleep and hugged me close.

  As I lay watching him sleep, I realized that, although I love my husband, I looked forward to seeing Jake again — real soon. I know some people might condemn me for this. Cheating, they’d say, is immoral. But I don’t think my feelings are adulterous. You see, I love my husband, but I don’t love Jake. Sure, I enjoy his body and he enjoys mine. But Jake could be any man and I could be any woman. With my husband there is a special bond that nothing can break. Adultery? No way!

  THE WORLD’S GREATEST SLUT

  Sarah was one of the most incredible women I have ever known. Not that she was particularly attractive. In fact, for some odd reason, I always found her face to be slightly repulsive, despite her careful use of makeup and the attractive way she styled her blonde hair. Sarah also wore the worst clothes imaginable in terms of style and color combination; but worst of all they hid Sarah’s greatest asset — her body. Her body was absolutely incredible.

  I first noticed Sarah’s body one day while standing at the edge of the college swimming pool. It was summertime and regular classes were not in session, but the pool was open to students. I had borrowed a student I.D. card from a guy I knew and had been spending most of the summer hanging out at the campus pool, trying to pick up chicks. Now, seeing Sarah swimming underwater in my direction, her body churning invitingly, I decided to get to know her better.

  I dived into the water feeling like Michael Phelps and angled perfectly so that my face bumped into Sarah’s tits. I pretended to be just coming up for air, and I apologized profusely for bumping into her. However, she surprised me a little when she coyly said I shouldn’t apologize for something she had enjoyed so much. Before I could think of an appropriate remark, her hand brushed against the bulge in my swimsuit, and she floated away on her back. This left me treading water for a few moments until I realized I had found a real live wire.

  I dived again and swam toward her, coming right up under her, I pinched her ass and surfaced six inches from her crotch. I had a mouthful of water, so I made like a fountain, arching a stream of water into the air, the liquid splashing her perfectly round titties that strained against her halter top. Like an ace, I scored a hit, and she was so surprised she choked on a mouthful of water.

  When she regained her composure, she glared at me with fire in her blue eyes and swam toward me like some maniac banshee. I had no idea what lay ahead, but much to my surprise, instead of wanting to scratch my eyes out, she got close to me and grabbed my balls. I was ready to hit the bitch in the jaw, but then I realized that the fire in her eyes wasn’t anger — it was passion. This beautiful bodied blonde was trying to beat me off in the middle of a swimming pool.

  Once I realized her intention, I found myself with an instant hard-on. I looked around to make sure that nobody was watching our little escapade. It was nearly closing time, and all the other swimmers had left. The lifeguard was talking to some chicks.

  I reached into Sarah’s bathing suit so I could stick my finger up her pussy. She spread her legs wider and squirmed down onto my middle finger the minute the tip of it started to penetrate her hole. Next, the crazy chick took a deep breath, dived underwater, pulled my cock out, and started sucking it. I couldn’t believe it. I was getting a blow-job right in the middle of the college swimming pool!

  I grabbed Sarah’s head and pushed her down farther onto my cock. I held her there because I was so turned on and wanted to come so much that I forgot that she would need to come up for air. She must have struggled against the grip I had on her head for a full ten seconds before I realized that the poor girl was suffocating. When I realized her passion was turning into total panic, I quickly let go, and she surfaced, gasping for air.

  When I suggested we get the hell out of the pool and go over to my apartment, which was just a short distance from the campus, she readily agreed. That started one of the most sexually satisfying relationships I’ve ever had.

  In the weeks that followed our initial meeting, I discovered that Sarah was one of those rare women whose passion rages out of control: She was totally dominated by her sexuality. As I got to know her better, I discovered that Sarah was something of a legend on campus. There were few men who hadn’t fucked her at one time or another. This didn’t bother me because she was so incredibly hot. Sarah was entirely willing to do anything and everything in the way of sexual experimentation. The passion of our relationship was totally dominating. I didn’t even feel guilty about fucking her when I found out she was married and her husband was in Afghanistan.

  One weird thing about her, though: She always had to pretend she was being seduced. This way, in her mind, she could justify the fact that she was cheating on her husband. Before I’d met her, Sarah had fucked an entire college fraternity in one wild, drunken evening. Everyone had heard about that night, and everybody also knew that Sarah would fuck at the drop of a hat (or a pair of pants). It was strange, nearing this nymphomaniac tell me how she screwed a gang of men — while she was sucking my cock between sentences.

  When Sarah’s husband, Ethan, returned from overseas, I assumed our freewheeling, fucking days were over. As it turned out, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Shortly after Ethan arrived back in the States, Sarah introduced the two of us. The occasion was a welcome-home party for her husband, and I was introduced as her cousin from New York. This deception made me nervous because I can’t lie in the best of circumstances, and this lie was so obvious that I felt sure guilt was written all over my face. Nevertheless, I couldn’t get Sarah out of my mind. I wanted to keep fucking her no matter what, so I played along. The fact that she was the world’s biggest slut didn’t turn me off at all; it excited me to think of her unbridled passion and of all the cocks that had been stuck into her.

  Sarah did the maneuvering at the party, and before the night was over the three of us wound up alone in a bar. All of us were drunk out of cur minds. So, as we sat there, Sarah, in her usual innocent fashion, suggested that since I’d had so much to drink, it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to drive home. She asked if I wanted to spend the night at their place. The whole idea boggled my mind. Here we were, sitting in front of her husband, and she was obviously trying to get something going between the two of us for the night. Sarah’s boldness didn’t floor me — but Ethan‘s response did. He not only agreed to her suggestion but seemed enthusiastic. I wondered if he knew about Sarah’s nymphomania. Was it really possible that he had no idea that Sarah was out to fuck me?

  As for myself, I couldn’t believe that I was actually planning to fuck this guy’s wife in his own house. I didn’t even know it was possible. I just knew that I was hot for Sarah and was going to take a chance. I was really out of control, so driven by my passion that I abandoned all logic and self-restraint.

  When we got back to their apartment, there was an awkward moment as the three of us wandered aimlessly about the living room. Then, once again, Sarah came up with an incredible suggestion. She said that since the sofa would be uncomf
ortable, the logical thing for us to do was to all sleep in the same bed. I grew apprehensive, but then Ethan agreed as if there were nothing at all unusual about the suggestion. As I sank back into my horny drunken stupor, thinking about Sarah’s luscious cunt, Ethan staggered off into the bedroom and undressed, passing out on the bed. I looked up at Sarah for a moment and she left no doubt in my mind that she intended for us to follow into the bedroom and jump into bed.

  So there the three of us were, lying naked in their king-size bed. I began to have my doubts once more, and at any minute I expected Sarah’s husband to jump out of bed and waste me with an M-4. So, I just lay there, rigid as a board. How she thought I was going to fuck her in front of her husband was still not clear to me. Then, before I could think things out, Ethan rolled over and drunkenly mounted Sarah’s gorgeous body.

  I was more awake than I had ever been in my entire life. It was incredible! Here was a guy fucking his wife right in front of me while I squinted through half-closed eyes, secretly clutching my stiff cock. I was trying to beat off as I watched them, but I was too paranoid to get off. I didn’t want them to know what I was doing. As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary for me to jerk off. It wasn’t too long before Ethan shot his load. He then rolled off Sarah and lapsed into what appeared to be a deep, drunken sleep.

  I lay there in the darkness, waiting for enough time to pass so I could be assured Ethan was really asleep. After a while, I slowly edged closer to Sarah and felt for her cunt.

  Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Sarah put her hand into mine. It was so crazy I couldn’t believe it, but once our hands touched I knew we were going to fuck. Then Sarah suddenly pulled her hand out of mine and rolled over so that her back was exposed to me. I noticed the move had placed Sarah’s buttocks close to my stiff cock. I inched closer to take advantage of her exposed ass until finally my cock slipped into the crack of her ass. Being careful not to wake her husband, Sarah wiggled and slowly drew her ass up toward my cock, allowing me to slide down the curve of her ass to her cunt. It was a long, slow process. It probably took five minutes of movement and angling before my cock finally penetrated her wet pussy. It was difficult building ourselves to orgasm. We tried not to move too fast, but still the bed creaked. The idea that Ethan might jump up at any moment and go for my throat didn’t exactly help matters.