Dirty Erotic Oneshots

spread her legs. "Eat me," she told him simply. 

Lance didn't hesitate. He practically dove between her open thighs. Sandra let out a faint moan as he positioned his face at her junction. Lance ran his tongue along the crease between her pussy and thigh. Her flesh possessed a smooth texture, freshly waxed without even a day's growth of stubble. She must have shaved for tonight. Lance brought his head to lick her other crease. 

Lance hoisted Sandra's thighs off the mattress, spreading her wider for greater access to the jezebel's juicy sanctum. His tongue skimmed her wet folds, swabbing the pussy nectar along her slit before stopping just short of her throbbing clit. Lance paused, letting her excitement mount. She bit her lip in anticipation. 

His tongue gently flickered against her pleasure nub. Her clit twitched with lust as the tiny organ emerged from its hood. Sandra's head tilted back and her entire body relaxed as his tongue bat her love nubbin to and fro with the skill and accuracy of a boxer on a speed bag. 

Sandra grabbed two fistfuls of his long hair and shoved his face deep between her thighs. Despite his dim-bulb demeanor, Lance possessed remarkable oral prowess. Sandra did not expect much from a guy like him when it came to eating pussy. She hooked up with women for that. But Lance knew just how to stroke her with his gentle yet seductive touch. 

The teen heartthrob was not unaware of his talent. Though most guys provided only the most cursory of cunnilingus, Lance loved to get under the hood of a chick and perform the dirty work she needed to get off. Though the cocksman's promiscuity earned him substantial notoriety, it also gave him a lifetime of experience on how to please a woman down there. 

Sandra might have been a prickly pear of a woman. But under the skin, she tasted sweet and juicy. Lance simply devoured her, sucking her soft folds into his mouth, his tongue darting in and out of her hole before plunging all the way inside. 

A loud gasp escaped her mouth. No lover, male or female, had pleasured her so skillfully. Lance had a long, flexible tongue that hung past the bottom of his chin when fully extended. The serpentine organ could assume virtually and shape or angle inside a pussy. 

Sandra felt his tongue curve upward as it stroked the front wall of her vagina. "Oh, my God!" she cried out. Sandra knew immediately what his tongue had uncovered. Lance was stroking her G-spot with the tip! Sandra barely could find the elusive spot with a specialized sex toy but the oral virtuoso had closed in on it within seconds. 

"Harder," she demanded in a quiet voice. Lance withdrew his tongue and plunged a finger - a big one - into her twat. The metal floor of the van creaked loudly as her back popped into an arch. Her breathing deepened with raw hunger. 

"You like that, babe?" he rumbled. Sandra didn't answer. Her head spun with unfamiliar but delightful sensations. She felt her legs twitch and her nipples harden into diamond-tipped spikes. Noting her excitement, Lance decided to proceed slowly. With his legendary size, skill, and stamina, the superstud knew he would make Sandra experience things she never experienced before. The headstrong beauty might not like him but she would desire him before the end of the night. 

The teen stud fingered her slowly, long tantalizing strokes with just enough pressure to stimulate her Gräfenberg. "Faster," she finally told him. Lance gradually picked up the pace and added a second finger. As the gentle strokes transformed into aggressive finger thrusts, Sandra heard wet, sloshing noises come from between her legs. She never felt so moist and open down there. 

Just when Sandra thought her pleasure had plateaued, Lance dipped his head between her legs and gave her throbbing clit a long, wet lick. Her body tensed up instantly. By stimulating the two focal points of her sexuality at the same time, Lance flipped a switch in her mind and body. She screamed at the top of her lungs and humped his face like an animal in heat. Sandra no longer cared about the stigma of slumming with a low-class teenage gigolo. She needed to quench her eighteen-year hunger for a real man. 

The playboy sensed her desperate lust with delight. She wanted it as badly as he did. Without a second thought, 

Lance planted his mouth on her clit and gently nipped the bud with his lips. "AUUUNNNNNGHHHH!" growled Sandra as he sucked, nibbled, and tugged at her pulsating love nipple. 

Basically, the virtuoso was giving her a clitoral blowjob. Combined with the dance his fingers performed on her G-spot, Lance thrust her into an erotic delirium where nothing was forbidden and everything was permitted. Her thoughts dissolved as an enormous pressure built in her molten core. She sensed the mass of her impending orgasm and its dimensions almost scared her. The jezebel grabbed a fistful of bedsheet in either hand and braced herself... 

Everything went black for an instant. When Sandra came to her senses, she found herself screaming profanities that would have made a porn actress blush. Her fingers clawed the mattress, her toes curled, her hips flew upward, her back stiffened. Then every muscle in her body contracted so hard that she barely could breathe. The heated moment seemed to last forever as a riptide of pleasure tore through her quivering flesh. 

With his tongue and fingers skillfully operating her erogenous triggers, Lance sustained her climax for an unusually long time. The sensations were simultaneously amazing and unbearable. It felt like touching the sun. The sexual prodigy had brought her into contact with an infinitude of bliss that she had only glimpsed in her most heated moments. 

Suddenly, Sandra felt like she would piss herself. The urge to pee didn't alarm her. She knew her body. Lance had stimulated the glands beneath her G-spot. They had swelled up with female ejaculate. After one particularly well-aimed stroke of his index finger, her pussy burst open like a broken water main, dousing Lance's face in love nectar. 

"Fuck yeah!" Lance spurred her on. "Squirt for me, babe." 

Sandra could not help but admire his enthusiasm. Any other guy would have freaked out at having his face soaked like that. But her response actually invigorated the ladykiller. He doubled down on her box, wallowing in her pungent liquidity. 

With a deep groan, she lurched back against his hand, forcing his fingers further inside. Lance luxuriated in her velvety warmth. Her gates had opened. She would not be able to resist him much longer. His fingers withdrew all the way to the tips and thrust inside harder. They pulled out and shoved in again. He was fucking her now. 

Another wave of pleasure pounded her body. Sandra felt her vaginal muscles clamp down and blast another powerful jet of female ejaculate. "Oh, my God!" she blurted out in a high-pitched cry, startled by the volume of her voice. 

Her hips instinctually drew back from his probing fingers, retreating from the overwhelming stimulation. Before she could get away, his free hand grasped her thigh. Lance didn't grab it forcefully. Rather, he offered a steady hand to guide his lover through her tempestuous climax. 

Sandra marveled at how big and strong his hand felt wrapped around her hip. His fingers latched onto the front of her hipbone with the thumb wrapped all the way to her spine. His grip seemed light but his left hand firmly held her in as his right finger-banged her twat. 

Sandra closed her eyes and imagined them together. The sexy manbeast would get behind her, grasping her butt with those big hands, and fill her again and again with his huge fuck club. The vixen would not have to conceal her secret with him. Sandra loved big dicks. He would give her the pounding she had craved all her life. Just the thought of that stirred something magical in the very core of her body. Its magnitude and intensity rendered her almost helpless. 

Sensing her excitement, Lance withdrew his fingers and grasped her thighs, prying them wide open and burying his face in her gash. His long tongue darted inside her pussy. Her vaginal muscles clamped down, drawing the organ deeper inside her body until he unfurled himself to the root. Without a second thought, he stiffened his tongue and stabbed her G-spot with the tip. "Oh, Lance!" Sandra cried out, using his name for the first time during their encounter. The ladykiller held her as tightly as he could as she bucked and writhed against his face. 

Sandra didn't make a sound. A tsunami of white-hot sensation exploded out of her center. Her ears thudded with the pulse of blood, the pressure so intense that her eyes felt like they would bug out of their sockets. As Sandra's climax peaked, the intensity paralyzed her. The wave didn't recede, it just seemed to grow and grow until a blinding light flashed behind her eyes. 

When Sandra came to, she never felt so relaxed. Even the vixen's best orgasms always left her wanting more. Yet she actually felt satisfied for the moment. No, the willful jezebel had not submitted to the Lothario. Rather, she simply had let go. 

Lance switched on the dome light in the storage area. The playboy didn't wear anything but a smile as he searched the pockets of his jeans for a condom. Sandra must have passed out because Lance didn't acknowledge her. "Fuck," he muttered to himself. "Where are the Mags?" Lance knelt down to rifle through the sheets. 

Sandra stayed quiet and just gazed at him. His physique caused her heart to skip a beat. He shaved everywhere besides a small tuft of hair above his groin. His smooth skin glistened under a light sheen of sweat, making his muscles look that much more hard and ripped. Then her eyes drifted to his crotch. His limp schlong dangled all the way to his knees. Even at rest, she never had seen one that big. 

Lance slowly turned around and met her gaze. 

"Do you like what you see, Sandra?" he asked her point blank. 

She didn't say anything but gave the slightest of nods. 

"It's okay to look. I know I'm not like other guys. Sometimes girls get curious because I happen to be a bit above average." 

"Does it ever bother you to be different?" she asked him with genuine interest. 

"Not really," he answered. "To be honest, I like being me." Lance's response felt self-assured but not smug. 

A moment passed. Lance lay down beside Sandra on the mattress. Her hand crept up his right arm, tracing its contours and rigid definition. 

"Why are you always flexing your arm?" she asked him. "Are you trying to impress me?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Like right now. You're flexing it." 

"No, I'm not." 

"Your arm feels hard as a rock. You're clearly flexing it. Can't you relax around me?" 

"It's not flexed, babe," he told her. "This is flexed." 

Lance raised his right arm and clenched his fist. Even with his forearm at a 90-degree angle, his bicep looked huge. As Lance's arm began to bend inward, the muscle grew from the size of a grapefruit to a melon. Sandra just stared at it for a few seconds. She had fantasized about guys with guns like that but never saw one up this close. 

"Can I touch it?" Sandra asked hesitantly. Her heart raced as she awaited his response. Sandra's reserve surprised her a bit. Why didn't she just feel up his arm if she fancied it?