When fact meets fiction…
“What are you writing?” she asks. It’s the first time in an age that she’s shown even the slightest interest.
“A sex scene,” I reply, breezily, unselfconsciously because I write them all the time and this one’s nothing too crazy.
She laughs, a short, sharp bark. “What? A sex scene?”
“Yes, a sex scene.”
“Can I read it?”
Hmm. I wasn’t expecting that.
“It’s not finished,” I say. “Perhaps when it’s done.”
“Okay,” she says. “Give it to me when you’ve finished it.”
I spend the rest of the morning writing and I’ve quickly forgotten about Charlie’s request to see the finished story, lost in the details, revisiting the language, reading it aloud to judge the rhythm of the sentences. I get up, stretch, head to the kitchen and make some coffee. It’s nearly lunchtime. Charlie comes back from shopping; she’s been to the deli round the corner and has sandwiches laden with sliced meats and cheeses, salad and sauces, all on freshly baked bread.
I pour coffee and we sit and eat, talking through full mouths about what’s going on in the world before heading to less fraught territory: who she saw at the deli (our friend Sam with a new girlfriend), a just opened restaurant that we’d like to try out, before she asks me whether the story’s finished. I tell her that it’s not complete but that the sex scene is done and if that’s what she’s interested in, she’s welcome to read it.
She comes into the study red faced, flustered.
“I want to do it,” she says.
“Do what?”
“Act it out. The sex scene.”
“What?”
“Yes. I want to read it and do it.”
“What? Really?”
“Yes really! Come on, before I change my mind.” And she turns on her heel and leaves.
I get to my feet feeling a little light headed. We have sex. We have plenty of sex and good sex too but not like the sex in this story; sex turned up to full volume. I’m suddenly nervous about how this is going to go, especially the finale.
The light in the bedroom comes from open doors that lead out onto the sun terrace and it’s a beautiful day; the air fresh and crystalline, washed clean by yesterday’s downpour. A breeze pushes lazy fingers into the room, playing through light curtains and the delicate leaves of the plants that adorn our walls. Charlie’s busy changing into some old La Perla lingerie that she stopped wearing because I guess at some point she decided, quite rightly, that comfort was more important. It’s black, lace, covers nothing and she looks spectacular in it. She picks up the few pages that I printed out for her and begins to read:
“The hotel room was bathed in the easy light of morning; the muted sounds of a Saturday market blowing in between open balcony doors. John lay atop the soft white sheets, the air moving over his naked body, goosebumps prickling across his broad chest…”
“I think you need to take your clothes off and lie on the bed,” she says. “John.”
But I’m already getting undressed. I know how this goes; I’m the one who wrote it. It’s kind of loosely based on a trip we took to Barcelona years ago. At least the rest of the story is. I take off my clothes and get on the bed, lying in the middle, legs slightly apart.
“…One hand was on his cock, lazily stroking his big erection while on the television in front of him a woman was being fucked by two guys at the same time: one big dick pistoning in and out of her ass while the other fucked her pussy, and even with the volume turned down, you knew she was cumming, mouth open, head back…”
“Hmmm,” she says, and I see that while one hand is holding the paper, her other seems to have moved unconsciously to her pussy, fingers pushed below the black lace. “Wait right there. I’ll get my laptop.”
She reappears in a moment, laptop open, a quick search and boom, double penetration on the screen in front of me. She props it on a chest of drawers, angles the screen so I can see it. “How’s that?”
“Great,” I say, and cough. “Just great.”
“Well now you need to stroke your cock. ‘Big erection’, see?”
My hand goes back to my cock, already semi-hard and nudging its way across my thigh, and I begin to stroke it, long and slow, feeling it grow beneath my fingers while Charlie turns her attention back to the page.
“…eyes desperate as the two huge cocks filled her. His hand quickened its pace, and now the other moved to pull on his nipples, twisting and rolling them, hardening under his touch…”
She looks over the top of the pages to check I’m following her voice, and I am, my dick now solid in one hand while my other pulls at my nipples.
“…Now he had both hands on his dick: one a ring of thumb and middle finger tight around his cock and balls, the other, running quickly and deftly along the shaft, playing across the tight skin of his glans, lingering over the slit now leaking precum, lubricating his hand…”
I’m following along, mirroring her words, but I’m not looking at the porn, I’m staring at Charlie rubbing her pussy, fingers visible through the thin lace, rolling round and round her clit, and my dick is now leaking, my hand sliding up and down it, slick with my own juices.
“…He began to groan and his hands to move more quickly, his chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths, his abs tense and contracting, unable to hold it any longer; with a cry — his dick spasming uncontrollably in the white-knuckled grip of his fist — he came, thick ropes of hot jizz spurting from his cock, falling across his torso, over his fingers until he was spent, body glistening with sweat and cum, breath calming as he regained control. He stared over at the chair to the side of the room and the woman sitting there. She loved to watch him cum, and here they had enough time…”
I can’t believe it. With a groan that stops her reading, I’m cumming, my balls contracting and cum splashing across my chest and pooling in my navel, covering my hand, and I can see that Charlie’s about to climax too, her fingers a blur as she strums her clit and pussy, eyes fixed on my throbbing cock. She cries out as the orgasm finally takes her, leaning back against the wall as her legs struggle to support her.
“Jesus,” she says finally. “Jesus, that was hot; watching you play with yourself like that. Holy fuck.”
I’ve just about got my breathing under control, my hand still gripping my cock which is only now softening but I know it won’t be for long. She shakes her head to focus herself and with a cough begins to read again.
“…Ahem, where was I…? Ah! …The woman stood slowly from the silk upholstered armchair, her body lithe and fluid, thin lace bra and panties as black as night against pale skin. She walked to the bed, hips swaying over long legs as she did, standing at the foot, staring up at his body…”
She stops, clearly having scanned ahead. “You’re going to have to take over the reading,” she says and hands me the pages which I cover with prints from my wet fingers. She walks to the foot of the bed, tracing a finger from my lips down my chest, through the cum that still covers my body, down to my dick before easing that finger into her mouth, licking the cum from it as she stares at me with sex-drunk eyes. None of that was in the story.
“…Right …staring up at his body. Delicate fingers moved to unhook her bra, letting it slide down her arms to fall at her feet. The black thong she kept on. The woman leaned forwards across the bed, her hands sliding up his muscular legs, strong calves and thighs to his dick, gripping it, pulling it towards her, reveling in the feeling of it pulse back to life in her hands, in the sounds the man made, the guttural, animal noises as her slim fingers played with the still sensitive head. Her mouth was next, moving to his cock, just easing it between her lips, beginning to suck on it, pulling it deeper into her mouth, feeling it swell inside her, nudging down her throat, its growing thickness forcing her lips wide. She placed her hands on his hips and began to slide his now throbbing cock deep into her mouth, her tongue playing against the base of his shaft while the head slid into her throat…”
And she’s doing all of it, following every word, and my dick is huge and hard again, her mouth hot and wet, saliva beginning to leak from between her lips as she tries to deep throat me in a way she has never done before. My dick is buried in her throat; the heat and the tightness exquisite.
“…Her eyes had been locked on his the whole time, reading him, knowing him, enjoying the control she had over him, as he squirmed against her, pushing his hips into her hands. She moved her mouth slowly up his dick, sucking hard against the head, feeling it swell under the pressure, listening to him groaning as she did, before freeing it, pulling the saliva from her lips to lubricate the hand that began to pump up and down its length…”
Charlie’s hand, slick with her spit, slides up and down my cock. Her eyes are locked on mine and her her lips are puffy and red and wet. I have never wanted her more than I do right now and it’s a struggle to not sit up and pull her to me but that’s not what happens. That’s not how the story goes.
“…The woman gripped his dick at the root and moved to straddle him, pushing her panties to one side, exposing for the first time her soaking pussy, slick with her juices and inflamed from her passion for him. She began to ease herself down onto his cock, sliding the head in between swollen lips, moaning as he pushed into her, stretching her wide. He couldn’t contain the shuddering moan that escaped his lips at the heat and tightness of her pussy; of the way her sugar walls gripped him, stretching the skin of his dick tight. She began to move up and down his shaft, one hand on his stomach, still slippery with his cum, while with her other she rubbed at her clit, faster and faster and he felt her pussy contract with the first of many orgasms…”
“Oh, oh, oh,” Charlie cries, rubbing her clit in time to my words as she bounces up and down on my cock and I feel her own orgasm ripple through her; her pussy clenching around my cock while her other hand grips into the muscles of my own cum covered abdomen.
“…She finished by grinding her pussy down onto him, her clit rubbing hard against his pubic bone, fingernails raking his chest, his dick deep inside her, stirring around her pussy, until she could stand it no more and she came, crying out his name over and over again…”
And she does it all: grinds down on me for an age until she’s cumming again, crying out my name over and over. I pause my reading until her climax calms and her head falls limp between her shoulders, long hair brushing my chest, my dick beating hard inside her, pushing back against those velvet walls.
“You have to take over,” I say. “I won’t be able to read the next part.”
She raises her head. “Oh yeah,” she says. “I was looking forward to this bit.”
She takes the pages — now soft from sweat and cum — from me and finds her place.
“…The woman slid forwards along his sweating body until her knees were either side of his shoulders, pinning his arms out wide across the bed. She lowered herself slowly onto his eager mouth, letting him kiss around her inner thighs, the lightest, most delicate kisses getting ever closer to her pussy until finally his lips found her clit and he began to suck and kiss it, his tongue probing between her juicy labia. He ate her like it was his last meal, rejoicing in her scent, her musk, her heat, while his dick throbbed and quivered, his juices dripping from the tip…”
I feel her twisting around on top of me, presumably to look at my throbbing, quivering, dripping dick.
“…She put a hand to his head, hooked fingers gripping his hair, pulling his face into her as she came hard under his skillful touch, her juices running freely from her engorged pussy into his hungry mouth. She ground down on his face, bucking and shaking as she slid her pussy back and forth across his mouth, his tongue buried in her, and there she stayed until she had had her fill…”
I’ve never known Charlie so wild. When I’m eating her normally, like, when we have sex and I go down on her, it’s always her lying on her back and me licking at her pussy until she cums, but this for her must be a whole other world of sensation. Her pussy is pushing down onto my mouth, her juices free to flow down from it, and with her fingers tangled in my soaking hair she controls everything about it. It’s amazing for both of us. I feel her pussy twitching and pulsing as my mouth does its work, feel her thighs tighten and hear the deep, feral moans as she cums, gasping for breath. She finally releases my hair and begins again.
“…The woman slowly, tentatively released him, untwisting from his hair one finger at a time. She slid from him to lie on her stomach next to him, kissing his face, tasting herself on lips slick with her juices. They lay like this for a time, kissing, lost in the moment. She moved one hand to his dick, gently squeezing it, gliding up and down it while their tongues melted together. The man was first to move, pushing himself for the first time from his prone position. There was a bottle of lube at the side of the bed and he reached for it, squeezing it over his dick, letting the woman help him coat his dick before he moved over her, kissing into her ear and the nape of her neck, kissing down her spine and she could feel his dick sliding between her cheeks as he began to push it into her, push it into her ass…”
Charlie is propped on her elbows, the papers flat on the sheets in front of her. We’ve done this, anal sex, like one time, but we keep the lube on the nightstand and so here I am, kissing into the nape of her neck, my chest pushed up off her while my dick slips between her asscheeks, nudging at her asshole, feeling it protest, squeezing back against me, but my dick is rock hard, slippery with lube (both from the bottle and its own) and slowly but surely I force the head inside her and she gasps as I do, finding it more and more difficult to read on.
“…She cried out as he slid into her, deeper and deeper, then drawing out, just the tip of his cock inside now before pushing back into her again. He continued to kiss at her neck and back, her shoulder blades and spine, as his dick slid in and out of her and finally he felt the muscle of her asshole loosen, giving up the fight against his huge dick, relaxing into him. His thrusts quickened and she could feel the sweat falling from his brow, dripping onto her back as he fucked her ass. He groaned, began to shake as he felt his dick finally beginning to uncoil, wanting to see himself cum, to cover her ass and back in his juices, and with a huge cry he tore his dick from her, watching as it lay between her asscheeks, cum pumping from it, spraying her ass, her back, her shoulders, her hair, before he collapsed groaning on top of her, her face now turned to his as they kissed and fought for breath by turn…”
We are kissing and fighting for breath by turn. I am lying on her back, my dick softening against her ass, my cum, our sweat sticking us together. I reach for her breasts, slide my hand down to her pussy and stroke it, sliding off her so we are spooned together on the bed. The paper is ruined, illegible, beneath us.
Finally we move, Charlie moves, rolling away from me and sitting on the edge of the bed. I look up at her, amazed at what just happened.
“Have you written anything else like that?” she asks.
“Loads,” I say. “And some of it’s really filthy.”
“Good,” she says and walks out to the bathroom.
