1. No Honey No Baby No Bitch


    Date: 8/31/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Anal, Blowjob, Erotica, Exhibitionism, Group Sex, Romance, Author: franklee4, Rating: 65, Source: sexstories.com

    “Baby, please,” she sobbed. “I just don’t know…” she looked off toward the window, her profile twisted in anguish, “…how it all gets ahold of me.” Kane regarded her in silence over the rim of his whiskey. She looked deflated but tense. A few hours ago she would’ve stopped traffic. Now she looked ready to lie down in it. The only windows faced the alley, and a random spiral of smoke drifted through pale shafts of streetlight from the ash tray where her latest cigarette lay forgotten and smoldering. Her face was streaked with tears and mascara, and her crossed leg was doing a nervous shake as she gripped each arm of the chair. “You’re gonna hate me, aren’t you?” Kane wondered what her skin would taste like now. Her neck looked so pale it seemed to be glowing. She wore a blousy, cowl neck sweater that plunged to her navel, exposing more than it covered. It was as black as her miniskirt and torn up pantyhose, and the way it hung off her shoulders made it appear in constant danger of falling off. Her breasts were eminently noticeable, but she seemed unaware of them as they swayed to her nervous gestures. “You’re not going to talk to me? Is this your way of writing me off?” Kane sighed and took a pull off his drink. His eyes kept moving back and forth between the careless wobble of her weighty breasts, her white knuckled fingers and her darting eyes. Half in shadow, he knew she couldn’t follow his gaze. He looked at the shadow in the valley between her breasts and felt a sudden ...
    urge to fast-pitch his bourbon at the window. It would make more noise and shards that way. But he sat still. Took another hit. Said nothing again. She took a deep breath and rang the buzzer. Then she stood through those awkward seconds, being expected yet suffering the small indignity of waiting to be let in. The height of her pumps made her legs feel strong – supple and lithe as saplings. In those moments, she could feel the heat of her pulse in the surface of her skin – cells pumping with excitement and a strain of fear. It was always like this waiting to enter another strange room and stand at the center of a circle tinged with the faint stink of adrenalin and lust. Tino looked high when he finally opened the door. She could smell the lingering vapors inside: herb laced with something pharmaceutical. He grinned, looking down at her from his imposing height, eyes quickly moving from her face to the conspicuous display of her breasts spilling from the deep plunge of her sweater. She walked in, breezing past any chance of a hug or kiss. She’d never kissed Tino once. At least never on the mouth. The mouth was personal. “Okay, I fucked up. Is that what you want to hear?” she meandered on. “I keep fucking up. It’s what I do. Maybe you never should’ve told me you love me, ‘cuz obviously I’m just fucking that up, too.” The still calm of his position in the worn chair didn’t begin to convey the flash in his mind of bolting to his feet and whipping his drink, seeing her jump in fear ...
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