Dirty Erotic Oneshots

of pleasure.

He quickened his pace, thrusting his rock hard cock into me faster and deeper, keeping my orgasm going. I cried out with the pleasure, feeling his pelvis smack against my sore, stinging ass. "Oh, fuck!" I screamed, the feeling almost too intense, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure.

He continued to fuck me hard, his own orgasm building until he grabbed my hips and pulled me hard against him, thrusting deep, filling me. I felt his cock pulsing inside me excited at the idea of being filled with his cum. He grunted with the pleasure of his own orgasm, then collapsed across my back, his arms wrapping around me, his cock still throbbing inside me.

"Oh, my little girl, you wear me out so good." He brushed his lips along my back and I sighed with the intense pleasure of my afterglow and of having him so near me.

After we had cleaned up, we snuggle together under the blankets completely entwined. I rested my head against his chest, just under his chin feeling the hair there tickle my cheek. He put one hand on my sore behind and squeezed it ever so slightly. I shivered, thinking of the intense pain and pleasure that hand could give me.

"I love you, Sir" I sighed happily.

"I love you, too, little one."

And we fell asleep that way, both perfectly content. c o u p l i n g

 

 

The local college was undergoing some renovations and I'd scored the job of supplying and laying some carpets. I'd finished for the day and was about to go home when I spotted the cheerleader squad running out onto one of the sports fields. I knew they were cheerleaders as they were all in full uniform.

Now it's a given that any young lady dressed in a cheerleaders uniform (nearly dressed, considering some of those uniforms) is automatically a lovely young thing and well worth looking at. When you have the whole squad the effect is magnified, the total squad managing to improve the looks of all the members.

With this in mind, and not being averse to checking out a bunch of young lovelies, I strolled over to the sports field and propped against the fence, watching the girls go through their routines. I wasn't, I have to admit, the only spectator. Cheerleading is very definitely a spectator sport.

I spent a pleasant hour watching the girls go through their paces. They were an athletic bunch. Damned if I'd ever be able to do some of the things they did. Damned if I'd want to, come to that. As earlier noted, they were a lovely bevy of beauties, but it seemed to me that one of them stood out as slightly better than the rest. I couldn't point to anything that made her superior, she just was. Personal charisma, I guess.

This particular charmer was average height but that was the only thing average about her. Spectacular blonde hair, eyes so blue you could tell their colour from a distance, legs that just didn't seem to end, a bust that had kept on growing long after most busts had quit, and a pert little bottom that had a beautiful little bounce to it when she walked. For some reason she also looked familiar to me, but I was quite certain I'd never met her. I mean, if I'd met her before there was no way I'd have forgotten her.

Eventually the practice finished and the girls headed back to the change room. I headed back to my van and found I had a flat tyre. Not a problem. I had the van jacked up and tyre switched over in five minutes flat and I was ready to move on out. I found that the delay was really quite fortuitous in nature. 

Some of the cheerleaders were already spilling back out of the change room, carrying bags and stuff, some still in uniform and others having done a lightning fast change. (Unusual, I know, but some girls can get changed fast if there is someplace they want to be.) One of the girls still in uniform was my lovely blonde and she was going to be walking right past me and my van.

I was mentally scratching my head and trying to find a good pick up line (even a bad pick up line would do), when she waved to me.

"Hi, Mr Davidson," she said.

I was stunned. She knew me. That meant I had to know who she was, but I didn't. How could I have forgotten someone like that? Did I have an accident and develop selective amnesia. 

"You don't recognise me," she said, seeming to pout a little.

"God help me, I don't," I admitted, wanting to go and bury myself to hide my shame. "You cause an itch in my memory but I can't place you."

"Not surprising," she said with a giggle. "Think Elaine and two little children."

Elaine and two little children? Who the hell was Elaine and what two children? Then the familiarity kicked in.

"Good god, you're Elaine, my sister's babysitter. You've, ah, changed."

Had she ever changed! I remembered Elaine as a mousy little girl, very friendly and really good with children. My sister's kids had always been happy to see her. Her hair had been blonde but now it had a lot more body and life to it. She'd gone from a flat-chested tomboy to an extremely well developed young lady of, of, damned if I knew how old she was.

"Yes, slightly," she admitted with an impish grin. That grin I recognised and was now starting to feel a lot more comfortable. 

"So, how old are you now?" I asked. "It appears that the last few years have been very good to you. Do you still sit for my sister?"

"Thank you," she said. "I'm eighteen. I stopped the baby-sitting gig shortly after I developed these," she said, patting her chest. "Some fathers got the wrong idea about a baby-sitter's duties."

Who could blame them? If I found her wandering around my house I'd get a few wrong ideas. Or right ones, depending on which side of the idea you were standing on. I was certainly getting a wrong idea right now.

I ran my eyes over her, nodding thoughtfully.

"Don't you go getting any ideas," she warned me. "What are you thinking of?"

"To be honest, I was wondering what your reaction would be if I was to drag you into my van, tear off your panties, and have a wild sexual encounter with you."

"Really, Mr Davidson," she said, blushing. "The very idea. I'd scream my head off and then where would you be."

"Well, if you screamed so loudly that your head fell off I'd probably be at the cop shop explaining it wasn't my fault that your head fell off and that I'm not guilty of murder," I said thoughtfully. I was now remembering a few other things about Elaine. Things such as she used to be very flirtatious. Things such as the fact that she'd also been slightly avaricious, eager for her pay, counting it meticulously to be sure it was all there.

"Tell me, would you have time to scream if you were busy counting out fifty dollars?" I asked.

"Mr Davidson," she said again, sounding shocked, but staying right where she was. "The very idea."

Now by an odd chance the mint had just issued a new five dollar note and they were just coming into circulation. I always try to get a mint fresh copy of any notes that come out. In a few years they may actually be worth something. When I was down at the bank during my lunch break I'd changed a fifty for ten fives, brand new, never used, consecutive numbers. I took the little wad of notes out of my wallet and fanned them out. Then I laid them one at a time on the floor of the van.

Elaine's eyes were running over the notes, counting them. She threw a blushing glance at me and then looked back at the notes. I was guessing that, with a body like hers and her naturally flirtatious nature, she wasn't a virgin. That meant that she wasn't giving up anything precious and fifty dollars was fifty dollars.

"You don't seriously think I'm just going to climb into your van so that you can, ah, . . ." She waved her hand around to let me guess what she thought I'd be doing.

"Certainly not," I protested. "I distinctly said that I'd be dragging you into my van. The notes are just there to confuse you while I'm doing it. By the time you pick them up it will be far too late to scream so you'll just have to suffer whatever I choose to do."

I gave her a benign smile, giving her a chance to depart for places elsewhere, but she was occupied counting those notes. She actually looked a little startled when I caught her arm and moved her into the van. It was easily done. I just turned her until her back was to the van and moved her closer. She automatically sat down when the back of her legs bumped against the van and I just picked up her legs and swivelled her around until she was sitting inside the van. I stepped in after her, closing the door behind me.

I was happy to see Elaine had her priorities right. She was on her knees, bending forward and picking up the various notes. This gave me ample opportunity to lift her short skirt and lower both her modesty pants and her panties, which were a lot more immodest.

With the money in her hand she swivelled around to face me. As she was now sitting this meant I could bring her pants over her knees and take them right off while she made protesting noises. 

"You shouldn't be doing that, Mr Davidson," she told me, totally failing to convince me. 

I lifted my hands to her top, trying to work out how to undo it.

"Is this just knotted?" I asked. 

At her nod I tugged on what seemed to be an appropriate piece of material and the knot came undone. I promptly brushed the top to the side, exposing her breasts. I didn't think she'd had a bra under that top. I suspect that none of the girls did. Ruins the mystique if people see bra straps on cheerleaders.

"You shouldn't be doing that, Mr Davidson," Elaine protested again.

Just who did she think she was kidding? She knew exactly what I intended to do before she even grabbed the first note. I took her breasts in my hands, stroking them.

"You're not really going to, ah, you know," she said, giving her little hand wave to indicate the unmentionable.

"What do you think?" I asked, capturing her hand and placing it against my groin. My intentions were well and truly letting themselves be known.

I gently pushed her down so she was flat on her back, my hands back on her breasts. I had never been more pleased with the fact that I'd used some offcuts to lay carpet on the floor of my van. Apart from protecting things I carried it also made for comfort when lying down.

Now that Elaine was lying down my hands had a little more freedom. While I was continuing to