Free Erotic Stories

Tales for the Rabbit - Collated (Couple)

Nude, the beautiful brunette lay back languidly in her arm chair, catching her breath. A few feet away, her lover reclined on a sofa, also recovering. They had made love for much of the past hour, lying on a mat in front of an electric fire in her Manhattan apartment. Now, temporarily sated, they smiled at one another as their bodies cooled. Outside, it was a grey December day, the late afternoon light fading. But inside, all was sunshine and warmth. They had been lovers for the past three months, snatching moments of pleasure from their hectic professional lives, away from their families, oases of satisfaction in the dry desert of normality. They were still learning about each other's bodies, their responses to each other, what worked best - both were experienced lovers, and good ones too. That made the learning curve, the learning of each other's curves, a mutually interesting and exciting experience. She always came quickly, and often, he slowly, fighting the urge to finish for this would end the moments that he wanted so much to sustain, She had yet to learn that about him - how and why he held back from his own climax to prolong hers. He knew that women's vaginas were as distinct as men's pricks - no two are alike, and they satisfy men in different ways. He smiled again, thinking how soft hers was, how his penis could thrust so many times into that sweet, damp cavity, uninterrupted. The internal geometry is all-important, he knew, so he could adjust his position accordingly when he probed away at her over and over again. He'd learned over the years, over the lovers, that what made him come was the friction of the pubic bone on the ridge around the head of his cock - unlike most women, her bone was positioned high and softly buried, allowing him to rub away over and over at the yielding walls of her vagina without fear of it all ending before he, and she, wanted it to. Yet by rearing up above her, and holding her down, the subtle change of angle could take him over the top when the pressure to come became too much - when he wished to join his lover in the oblivious moment. He knew this, and it was his sweet secret - why tell her?

The brunette stirred, raising her legs so that each rested on an arm of the chair, exposing her vulva to her lover's gaze. He stared, always enraptured by the shaven smoothness, the delicate slit, the prettiness of it all. She'd had a small black strip when they had first met, but she had wanted to experiment, and the effect was wonderful - such a beautiful one, he always thought, comparing the vision with memories of other lovers. At the base of her slit, a small bead of semen was just visible, the legacy of his spasm. She saw his stare, and her legs moved, self-consciously obscuring the view. DON'T! He almost screamed the word, but gathered himself, and hoarsely whispered - “don't, it's lovely”. She caught his gaze, the look of lust on his face, and her right hand moved onto her vulva, gently stroking what he was gazing so intently at, from a few feet away. He encouraged her with a smile, and she saw his cock stiffen, watching it harden in seconds, as his own hand moved to clutch it. Her fingers moved within her slit, the palm resting on the mons, rubbing on her clit as two fingers bent, like claws, to probe within the inner reaches of her crevice. Her left hand moved onto her wonderfully sensitive areolae, rubbing in unison, creating a double team of pure pleasure for her. His own hand flew back and forth, pleasuring himself as he watched her passion rise, heard her breathing sharpen. He moved, positioning himself between her legs, resting his cheek on one thigh, placing his eyes and nose within inches of her flying hand, watching the fingers at work, at play, smelling her heady scent, scenting his smell on her, learning just what she did to satisfy himself, a lesson that both would benefit from in the years to come. She moaned, her eyes catching his, looking up at her, holding her gaze - no woman can keep her eyes open right at the moment of climax, but this one almost could, he knew - and the vision into her soul at such times was something he'd already learned to cherish. Faster and faster flew her fingers, the pressure on her vulva increasing, until she came, shuddering under the relentless power of her clever hand, the palm pressing down on the entire vulva, her fingers reaching into the wetness within as her body tensed, her breath moaned from her lips, the muscles in her thighs tightened against his cheek, then relaxed as the moment passed. He grinned, smiling in wonder at the sight he had seen, the site he had seen being pleasured. “I've never experienced anything quite like that”, he told her, his voice catching with emotion. “It was truly wonderful, the most erotic spectacle I could ever imagine”.

“My turn”, she gasped. “I've shown you mine…..”. He was as hard as he could be, turned on to an unprecedented extent, half way home from the gentle pressure he'd been applying while watching her come, aroused beyond his belief. His hand flew back and forth, the thumb rubbing over the ridge in the way he could make her pubic bone press on him. He'd never found it easy to come twice in a session - get hard, no problem, but end and go soft again, that was tough. But this was different, the electricity in the air had charged his fingers, fired his cock, ionized the core of his brain. Standing above her, his thighs tensed, his calves on fire, he drove himself to the finish - she could sense it, and moved forward, offering her mouth. “No”, he gasped, “just watch”. She lay back again, he gathered himself for one final effort, rearing back, shaking forward, pushing and pulling on his cock. The moment came, he felt the tingle, the spasm, the warmth, the explosion. As the semen rose from his balls through the tube in his cock, he moved his entire body, flicking his cock up and then back down, timing the release so that a silvery jet arced across the gap between them, a hyperbolic trajectory starting from his penis, ending on her belly. A second arc erupted, this one splattering across her breast, a third, landing on her thigh as he fell forward onto her, his muscles giving out, allowing her to hold him, clutching his head to her breast.

“Wow”, she exulted, “I have NEVER seen that before, it's always been in my vagina or in my mouth, never on me like that, what an amazing sight”. As he stood again, she rubbed her hands across the skeins of semen pooling on her torso, smoothing it into her skin, then licking her fingers sensually. “We'll be doing that again!”

“You bet your sweet ass, we will, my sweetheart”, was all he could think of to say, the wit and wisdom driven from his mind by the eroticism of the woman lying in front of him, the sexiest, most sensual lover he had ever had. But he knew there were still tricks he could teach her, and he sensed that she had much more still to show him. This was going to be a wild ride, or two, three, ……. hundred.

TALES FOR THE RABBIT - VOLUME 2

She laughed. That rich, throaty peal he loved so much, a sound that countered so easily his tendency to frown, to see the negative. So often, she saw only the opposite, every unknown was to be explored, exploited, not feared and evaded. The lovers were sitting on low sofas in “Mainland”, a trendy Upper East Side cocktail lounge, using complimentary drink vouchers they had picked up at a fashion show a few week's before - why not? She'd picked an exotic cocktail, naturally, he'd been “persuaded” to forego his usual glass of white wine to stab his finger into the list and come up with a concoction even more bizarre, just so she could taste it. Ironically, his selection was a lot nicer than hers, so they swapped - not that he had a lot of say in the matter. After a couple more of the nicer cocktails, she was feeling even less pain than normal, and he was relaxing, bathing in her vitality, soaking up her effervescence, imbibing her charisma along with the vodka (or was it rum?) that was hidden among the fronds sticking out of the cocktail glass. She flirted with the waitress, swapping stories about her experiences as a bargirl in her youth. He admired her ability to make new friends instantly.

She looked back at him, fixing his eyes with her strong, forthright gaze. They had been lovers for 2 years now, this cold, dry December evening. One glance was all it took for companionship to turn into raging lust. They had planned to have a couple of drinks before heading to her apartment to work off the passion that a week apart had built within them. Why bother waiting, flashed her eyes. He held her gaze, a few words were exchanged, he headed downstairs. Sitting next to her a few minutes later, he rubbed the outside of her thigh gently as he whispered into her ear. “This could work, but we would be completely insane to try. If we're caught, the scandal would crucify us. Two married, respectable professionals caught in a bar's bathroom would be all over the tabloids. There's no way we can do this”.

She stood up, walking towards the stairs, looking back at him with an unspoken command. “A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do”, he thought, looking around the bar, checking whether anyone was watching, not thinking all that rationally. After all, who checks who else goes to the bathroom when they're drinking with friends? He waited for her to disappear, then followed.

The bathroom was unisex, curiously appropriate he thought. And lockable, something he'd checked earlier. A waiter went past the end of the corridor, they waited in the shadows. She went into the room, he followed, locking the door behind him. In the inner stall, he grabbed her, kissing her furiously, slamming the door. This wasn't going to be one of those times when he gently worked her to fever pitch, playing her body to bring out all its chords - this was a time for action. She pulled down her trousers as she leaned against the wall, grabbing for his belt, tugging on his fly. He was hard, she was wet and wide. He lifted one leg onto the toilet seat, holding her thigh as he leaned against her, up and in, a smooth jolt, her eyes widening with the thrust. Their heights were perfectly matched for vertical sex, they'd discovered years ago in more normal venues. He could rock his hips back and forth, powering his prick into and out of her slit, pushing her up against the stall wall, pulling her back towards him - one hand on her back, the other grasping her thigh. It only took a minute, she shuddered, her mouth found his, she gasped the religious words that so many agnostics resort to in the extremes of passion. He was always amazed by how quickly she orgasmed, and how often - he kept thrusting, knowing that once was not enough to unwind her sexual dynamo. She came again, gasping out her passion, and a third time, moments later. His thighs were starting to throb, this was not the most comfortable position to be in and the nagging demon at the back of his mind wouldn't let go - the longer this went on, the more chance it would turn from a moment of wonder into a disaster that could ruin them both. Sometimes, discretion is the better part of lust. He pulled out, still erect, she leaned back against the wall, reaching for his penis with her hand. He pushed her away, stuffing his raging cock back into his pants, struggling with his fly, urging her to dress and get the fuck out of here. There was no way he could come, not so soon, not like this. But she had, and that's what mattered to him.

They left the room, he hoping like hell that there wasn't a line outside the bathroom, she not caring. They were in luck, and he scooted up the stairs, at least in so far as a man can scoot with an erection pointing up towards his belly, covered by his coat and his, hopefully, artfully placed hand. She settled the check, he not feeling able to talk to the bargirl with his cock in this condition - how could she miss the bulge?

They went into the streets, it was raining, there was no way they were going to find a taxi. Her apartment was a mile away. Standing next to her, smelling and seeing her, he was still erect, still his trousers bulged. Why hadn't he brought an overcoat? Because he didn't anticipate fucking his lover in a toilet and having to walk the streets with a raging stiffy, answered the rational part of his brain. He grabbed her bag, holding it in front of him like a schoolboy bringing an apple for teacher, as he waddled along beside her, wanting to move as quickly as he could while acknowledging the difficulties and discomfort involved in doing so - his cock was trapped, hard, the tip held under his belt, very uncomfortable. She, of course, was happy, she was feeling good, no semen to drip from her, no mess to be concerned about - post-orgasmic, yet anticipatory. Who says women have it hard, men easy? In this case, at least, he was having it hard, she was as soft and fluid as always.

They hurried through the streets, not caring about the rain, she grinning at his predicament, trading barbed comments, grabbing a quick feel when the street was clear, something that hardly helped his near-priapic condition. She opened the apartment door, they raced inside, clothes scattered onto the floor, chairs, anywhere - naked at last, he sank down on her, fucking her in a frenzy, balancing on toes and hands, touching her only with his cock, a position she loved and was amazed by - how could a middle-aged, regular guy have the strength to power his prick into her like this, over and over while his thighs and arms ached as he did press-ups on her. He knew the physical stress would make him come, and he HAD to come, sought the release, for once going for his own orgasm while knowing that she would get there anyway, while his own pressure mounted. She came, and came again, urging him on, reaching up and holding his back, moving her thighs to change the angle so that her pubic bone ground on his cock-ridge, He could feel the tension raise, knew he was going to come, told her so, she grabbed another shudder, her thighs rippled as he thrust one final time, pouring his sperm into her in rapid jets as he collapsed against her chest, exhausted, spent but utterly exhilarated. She stroked his forehead. “That was nice” she said. He was too shattered to think of a witty riposte to her erudition, knowing that for her, actions always counted, words never did.

TALES FOR THE RABBIT - VOLUME 3

Her whimpers were muffled by the thighs that were clamped around his ears, as his tongue went to work on her clit. He'd been venerating her vulva with his lips for the past five minutes, and her state of excitement was now already off scale. She loved this form of sex, he knew she did, and he loved bringing her to the heights of pleasure in this way. He felt like an artist working on a canvass, trying to do justice to a beautiful object that was fixed in his mind's eye. And he knew that the vulva, clitoris and vagina lying only inches below his eyes were as pretty as they were sensitive, quite the best looking and richest, nicest tasting of the many he had sampled over the years. He so wanted to make her explode, over and over again, and he knew this was exactly what has happening and would continue to for a long time yet. This woman's capacity for orgasms was unprecedented in his experience, she could come over, and over, and over again - in some ways it was too easy, not enough of a challenge for him, but in another way, it was just so thrilling to feel, see, taste and smell this gorgeous woman lose all her control, and surrender to the moments.

He'd started by lying flat between her legs, resting on his elbows and lowering his head just enough to flick his tongue up and down the slit a few times, feeling her thighs tense next to his cheek. Then his tongue found her clit, flicking back and forth over its target as rapidly as he could move it, only the tongue tip in contact with the small area of flesh that gave her such pleasure, to and fro, back and forth, up and down, until her entire abdomen quivered in sympathy with the fire that was suffusing her vulva - when she came like this, a quivergasm he called it, he knew she was on the top of her game, and so was he - and when she was on the plateau, her climaxes kept on coming, the one rolling into the next, in an almost never-ending stream. Sometimes he would take pity on her, respecting her sensitivity, leaving her clit to recover for a few minutes while he focused his mouth elsewhere. There were, he knew, many other ways to make her come, by exploiting the sensitivity of her entire vulval region. Since she had shaved herself smooth, and she was ultra-smooth, not a wisp of hair anywhere, he could take the entire area into his mouth, sucking the flesh against his lips, the imbibed region centered on her clit. The suction always had an amazing effect in itself, but when he touched her clit, already far inside his mouth, with his tongue, she again shook uncontrollably, the blood he had sucked into the region by creating a vacuum seeming to exacerbate the spasms, increasing the sensitivity to an almost intolerable extent. Her thighs clamped down hard on his head, her hands beat on his back, her belly rose from the bed, bucking him. He eased off the pressure, air escaping from his mouth as her vulva pulled away and she sank back down. He leaned back, admiring what he had licked and tasted, giving her a moment to catch her breath. Clits are all so different, he mused, probably as individual as cocks are. He'd sucked on one that was the size of the end joint of his little finger, but softer; others were small, discrete nubs of flesh, buttons; yet more were little ridges, hoods under which one could just insert the tongue tip to play with the sensitive lower surface. His lover's clit was none of these, just a hypersensitive area at the junction of her delicate labia, a small region even more prone to pleasure than the rest of her vulva. He leaned back down, placing his mouth again where his eyes had just feasted - another tongue flick to get the cycle of ecstasy started again, then he pulled back a few inches, and blew soft, gentle puffs of air onto her clit, over and over again, cooling yet stimulating the inflamed flesh, creating another series of spasms in her thighs that he brought to their natural end by placing the entire top surface of his tongue between her labia, licking up and down the entire length and breadth of the inner surface, tasting the moisture, occasionally placing the tongue tip as far into her vagina as it would reach, then removing it to continue the incessant rubbing of her soft, moist flesh, with his own. He could hear her moans and gasps, her thighs were spread as wide as they would go, freeing as much of her sensitive slit as possible to the steady caressing pressure of his tongue. He fastened his lips over her clit again, scraping the front of his top teeth and gums ever so gently over the harder flesh just above, pushing down on her pubic bone while his tongue flicked away a few inches below. He pulled back a little to slide two fingers into her vagina, feeling the small area on the front, inside surface that was another way to take her over the edge. Hand and mouth now worked in harmony, the tips of his fingers seemingly trying to reach his own tongue through the thin wall of flesh that separated them, a wall that was becoming ever wetter, softer, hotter. Again she came, clamping down on his fingers, the spasms in her thighs throwing his head away from her vulva.

“Kiss me”, she moaned, “fuck me”, she implored. He did both, scooting up the bed, locking his lips onto her mouth, transferring onto her tongue the taste of herself that she loved so much. At the same time, his cock slipped into what now felt like its home, sliding with no resistance into the sopping pool of her flesh - it was like penetrating blancmange, she was so soft, so wet. He pumped away, bringing her to another swift climax, her moans going straight from her clamped lips into his mouth, as she fought for breath and took the pleasure she wanted. He rolled onto his side, dragging her hip over his, sliding down to pound away into her from underneath, trying to come but knowing that he couldn't make it - she was just too wet, there was no friction. After she quivered once more, he pulled out, stood up, looked down at his cock and said “let's have a cup of tea and chill for a bit, this will be still be here for you for a while yet. One lump or two?”