Sex Lies – Your Filthy Words Turn Me On

You taunt me with your sex lies. Of how you fucked this girl or sucked that guy. You know it gets me hot and furious and jealous and all the things that make me wetter than hell.

This one was really bad. You told me how you’d spotted him at the club, he was clearly a gym goer, checking out your pecs as you checked his. T shirts too tight. Sleazy looks passed between you and you’d taken him to the back alley outside. Shoved at the fire door exit, hard, until it burst open. Your heart catching in case it triggered an alarm. It didn’t and you slammed him up against the dumpster, devouring his mouth with yours. Hard-ons straining through jeans, precum staining waistbands.

Oh how you make me growl with your filthy words.

And then what? I want to say but I don’t want to give you the satisfaction. The admission that your sex lies turn me the fuck on.

I clench my pussy tight crossing my legs and twisting slightly away from you as your hand reaches for my thigh.

And then… you cock your eyebrow and continue your lies.

“He drops to his knees before me and drags out my thick hard dick. It’s so hard I fear I’ll blow his head off if he eats me.”

I turn away, wishing I could lift my hand and bite my fist, but it would show you how much I’m fucking loving it. And hating it. Jealousy flashes in my brain like a siren going off, I want to savage you for these words.

Then you say you grabbed his hair, just the way you do mine and a prickle slides over my neck, I can almost feel you pushing my head into your crotch. I salivate. I don’t want you to say it.

“He was so good, he knew just what to do with my huge solid cock,” you say then push your hand to my nape and ease your fingers into my hair, tugging to make me look at you.

You’ve got it, you’ve got my utter savage jealousy and I pounce.

I clamber on to your lap, legs spread wide, skirt straining as I fight to pull it up over my hips, my cunt is dripping and I am feral for your dick. We race to tear open your jeans and drag them down enough to let your cock spring free.

There it is, straining and thick, shining with need and I push my cunt to your body and mount it. It stretches and pushes at my entrance and I close my eyes, tipping my head back and sigh out all that fury as I sink onto you.

Oh fuck yes. The things you do.

My body sags and relief washes through me as I claim you as mine, only mine.

Then, every fibre tightens with a bolt of electricity and I start fucking you hard, hard and deep rocking my clit up to your pubic bone, feeling every ridge inside as I slide up and down your shaft.

Ugh yes, it’s so good. Fury fucking, rage fucking, I don’t even care if you’re close or not I’m going to rip an orgasm from you. And there it is, the pinprick of pleasure preparing to explode, like nuclear fusion, the atom splitting. From nothing it becomes everything and I fly into this orgasm, blasting my energy out of my cunt roaring as I do.

Yes yes, fuck you. I scream and you grab my ass thrusting hard and fast, my juices soaking us both and you’re growling now too.

I love it when you plough me like this, complete abandon. Taking me, owning me as I’ve owned you.

And then you stop. Our gaze locks and your face slackens. The truth speaks through your eyes and you smile, coming deep inside me. I clench and hold you there until your cock softens,

We soften.

You cradle me in your arms and stroke my hair.

I fucking hate your filthy sex lies.

There you have it – my first erotic story of the decade – inspired by this week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt – flaunt.

If you like it quick and intense – why not read Hangover Hunger – or for something a little longer – choose a new book from my erotic library.