As he works in circles inside her, she surrenders completely. He leans into her ear, whispers, “Yes … Yes.” She sucks in air. He feels the rush of blood through her carotid artery. She is woozy with pleasure, weak at the knees. Primal fear and lust course through her … she wants him inside her.

He licks her thick lips. She opens her mouth, waiting. He spits into it, pulls his finger out of her. Her eyes go wide. Staring at her, he shoves his moist middle finger into his own mouth, tasting her. Then he spits on his fingers, slides them from her ass to her pussy. Squeezing her throat a bit more, he shoves his thumb and index fingers in her mouth. All wet now, he slips the thumb past her folds and inside, rubbing the lower wall. His index finger glides up her ass and he rubs them together through the perineum.

Her eyes close as she takes in quick breaths. Electric current runs through her body, snapping off in the brain. He flicks his thumb out of her and over the hood. Slips it back inside, then out again, this time going under the hood and caressing the button.

This goes on until she opens her eyes, looks right at him, and yells his name. After a minute, she shuts her eyes, then screams. And screams.

He holds her fast to the wall as she comes … and comes … and comes.

The part he loves more than any other.

She had the blackest of black hair. Long, silky, and smooth. Naked, white skin. Wide brown eyes. Thick crimson lips. Her sex shaved clean.

He breathes heavily. Wets thin lips with his tongue. Heart beats faster as he turns the page.

She sat, slender legs crossed. One foot displaying red painted nails.

He is hard. Wraps stiff fingers around his throbbing prick. Eyes devouring her lush body. They flick to the opposite page.

She sat, legs opened, fingers gently parting herself. Exposing pink, moist folds. Tongue poking out from her lips.

He turns the page, stroking faster … grunting. Imagines how she tastes. Eyes lock on the next page.

She stood, legs apart, on tiptoe. Fingers of one hand spreading, exposing her clit. The others inserted.

His heart beats almost to spasm. Hand pumping. He can smell her. Release. On his belly, his fingers sticky. A little on his right thigh.

One last look. She winked at the camera.

He closes the magazine. Momentarily content in both fantasy and reality.

Naked, lying next to him, skin on skin. Her fingers on his hairy chest, down his torso, past abs to the base of his prick. His thick fingers running down her side, hips, ass, thighs, calves. On the way up his hand would stop at her warm wettening pussy. Her face hot with blood at the thought of straddling his chest, his fingertips brushing her skin, a palm landing on her small, soft breast.

“Mmmmmm,” she says, looking at her drink, and the guy thinks she’s agreeing with his never-ending chatter.

She’s thinking about her hands wrapped around the shaft of his friend’s cock, pulling on it. Him bucking, she squeezing thighs against his ribs. Sliding down to top him, she’d spit on his stiff prick. Ease it into herself. His hands on her tits. She’d grab his wrists, pin him down. Bang her pelvis into his, fuck him hard.

Her sweat dripping onto him, stinging his eyes, she’d ride him like a thoroughbred. Feeling his throbbing cock about to explode inside her, she’d let him slip out. Slid her pussy up his body. Plant it firmly on his mouth, make him suck it. When she was ready to release she’d reach back and jerk his still wet dick. They’d come in unison. His semen arcing like lightening. Her brain a pool of endorphins.

She excuses herself to the ladies room. Out on the street, walking away, she wishes her instincts were better.

‘Next time,’ she thinks. ‘Next time, I’ll go for the quiet one.’

Feeding a five into the slot his blood rises in anticipation.

The video begins. Two men, one on either end of a skinny blond in fishnets and heels. She swallows one as the other grunts into her pussy. The action rapid, music banging the beat.

A quad of scenes plays on a smaller screen to the right. he presses a knuckle to button 1. The scene on the big screen changes.

Two clothed girls kissing each other, tongues out. One has her hand up the others’ skirt.

He knuckles another button.

Two men fucking two women from behind. The women kissing each other, the men laughing.

He undoes his pants, untangles a large engorged cock. Legs apart to keep his pants around his hips. As always, he eschews the plastic seat behind him. no idea what might be left there.

Stroking himself. Eyes flitting between the screens.

The quads change scenes every sixty seconds. 100 channels of carnal bliss.

Something for everyone.

Occasionally he checks the countdown. Presses a button to move a scene from the small to the large.

Now two women lick, suck, kiss, and swallow a large prick that seems attached to no one. A man is grunting. On screen the pecker bursts forth a large amount of money shot.

The countdown flashes 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 … and he is in darkness. The screens stilled.

He fishes in his pocket, comes up with a wad of twenties. Frustrated, he shoves himself back into his pants, pulls up his fly, buckles the belt. 

He pulls the bolt back, exists, looking for the counterman who has just stepped into the john.

Disgusted with himself, he walks briskly out. Heads to the subway station, late for his next meeting.

Soaking in hot bubbles, she thinks of the tall, tone man who said “hello” on the checkout line. Steel gray eyes, strong jaw, shock of white in his black hair.

Sweat glistens on her face, steam rising from the bathwater. She is lost, feeling his lips on hers. Hands gently caressing, probing. Searching out soft spots, curves. The contrast of rough skin against smooth. 

She blissfully aches. Touches herself underneath the water.

On her back, he would come to her quietly, gently. Light kisses on her thighs, belly, neck. He would move her easily onto her stomach. Bury his face in her hair, bite her shoulder. His fingers running up the backs of her legs, into the folds of her ass. Flicking his warm tongue on the base of her spine.

Wanting her, hard for her. He holds her throat with one hand, the other searching the V of her legs. Then … his thumb in her ass, index finger in her pussy, middle circling the button.

She shudders, makes small waves. Sighs desire. Wanting him to go faster now, but enjoying the tension. She shifts in the tub to get a better angle. Breath hot, heart beating fast, eyes closed.

He would flip her over, teethe her nipples. Moving down, his wet mouth sucking up her sex, enveloping her. This would go on a long while until she couldn’t stand it. Abdominal convulsing, body tensed. Then massive release with sound.

She sinks below the waterline, blows air through her nose. Surfaces, wet and flush. She waits. The water stills. Her heart beats and beats and beats. She stays, unmoving, until she is calm.

He wants to crawl over, run his lips against  the stocking-clad calf. Tear with his teeth at the fabric, exposing bare skin. Sniff the jasmine scent of her bathsoap.

He crosses his legs to press a stiff prick between his thighs. The smile and nod give a look of attention to the conversation. Lost as he is in this coworker fuck-fantasy, he knows nothing of what is being said.

Mouth moves up the leg, licking. A hand on the ankle, he works his way to the hem of black skirt, above the knee. Like a dog, he noses under. Takes in the scent of her sex. Beneath the pantyhose, he knows, is her wet pussy.

His cock throbs for her hole. His lips ache, inches away form the crux of her softer than soft, fleshy, shaved snatch.

Hand in pocket, brushing against his hard-on, he uncrosses then recrosses his legs.

In his mind, on the floor in front of her, he rips away the barrier, hears her say, “yes,” breathy. She shakes with desire. A hand on each knee, he spreads her legs apart. Digging his face into her, he is lost, blissful, devouring. Fingers spread her lips, making room for his tongue. His nose against her clit, she moans. Her hands on his head pushing him deeper. Convulsing, she screams and releases an orgasm into his mouth. He laps at their wet lips.

His name is called twice before he realizes he’s been asked a question he hasn’t heard. Smiling he apologies. Says he’s unsure, but will check and let them know. The meeting moves on.

He glances at her hand, notes the diamond. Too bad. Or perhaps not.

He reaches down and scratches. Plays fingertips over the shaft and tip. Licks dry lips and groans.

Hot shower, soap … rubbing, stroking. One fist around his shaft the other squeezing the base, cupping the balls. The water pounds his back, sluices down his legs. He moans with the pleasure of thinking about warm soft flesh. Wet folds of pink petal, hot and fat with blood.

He imagines his cock splitting the folds, entering the dark hole. It’s too much for him. He releases into the shower stream. Jerks and grunts, spurts a few more drops.

Toweling off, the clock tells him he’s late already.

“What a way to start the day.”