Erotic Vacations: Carnal Cruises, Boardwalk Bondage, Holiday Wife Share, & Summertime Cheating Wives - Deborah Cockram - ebook
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The weather's getting warm – No, it's getting HOT. Humid, Sultry. It's summer, and time for vacation.But you've never seen vacations like this.These get-aways aren't just a break from work, or a chance to get away from the daily grind.No, these are opportunities to let your WILDEST FANTASIES come true.That's right – erotic vacations. Sensual get-aways. Wicked little sabbaticals where the normal rules of right and wrong don't apply.Maybe it's a cruise where a billionaire can buy you for the night…maybe it's a simple trip to the beach for a college coed, where she finds herself absolutely enthralled with a new summer love, so much so that she will submit to anything he demands, even the most debasing activities.Perhaps a quick mountain get-way turns into a rowdy, bawdy romp with strange men (and women – complete with a few little BDSM sessions)…or perhaps a summer at a beach rental for a tired house wife turns into a series of steamy, naughty, wicked encounters with one (or two, or three) young men next door…There are so many carnal cravings to be quenched, and vacations tend to be so short, so let's dive right in…just click and download for the most sensual summer (and winter) get-aways you'll ever know…

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Table of contents

Erotic Vacations: Carnal Cruises, Boardwalk Bondage, Holiday Wife Share, & Summertime Cheating Wives

Naughty Night At Sea: Hot Wife Shared with the Billionaire & His Staff

(Threesome, MMMF, Group Romance, Older Man-Younger Woman)

Pounded on the Boardwalk (Boardwalk Erotica #1)

Stripped, Licked & Stuffed at the Theater (Boardwalk Erotica #2)

Pounded in the Surf (Boardwalk Erotica #3)

Hubby's Christmas Surprise:

Stuffed at Christmas: A Rough, Unexpected Foursome

More than a Massage: Two Women, Hubby, & the Back Room

Pounded for Pleasure

The Naughty Wife's Steamy, Wicked Weekend

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

(11 Tales of Public BDSM, Threesomes, First Lesbian Encounters, MILF, Stranger Romance & Much More…)

By Deborah Cockram

© Copyright 2017 by Deborah Cockram

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Naughty Night At Sea: Hot Wife Shared with the Billionaire & His Staff

(Threesome, MMMF, Group Romance, Older Man-Younger Woman)

By Deborah Cockram

I shivered, and it felt like there were a thousand little butterflies down in my stomach, all jostling and flitting about, rolling over one another. I reached up to knock on the cabin door, and my hand trembled.

I stopped, turned away, and leaned back against the wall. The air was cool, even though we were on a cruise in the Caribbean, where it's warm even in the middle of the night. Maybe it wasn't the air, but my skin that was chilled – cold and clammy actually – as I stood there, trying to get my racing heart to slow, my breathing under control.

I closed my eyes, thinking of Stuart, how it had felt earlier, first when our hands touched at dinner, a little jolt of electricity running up my arm, and later, on the dance floor, our bodies pressed together, my head on his chest, everything feeling right, comfortable, as it should be.

Still, I barely knew him, and the idea of…well…giving myself over to him for the night, and the knowledge that my hubby was not only onboard with the idea, but encouraging me to do it…it was just a bit more than I could process.

Without warning the door opened. I twirled to see Stuart, standing there, still dressed as he had been at the dance – that tailor-made suit hugging his body, showing off his wide, broad shoulders, narrow waist. I looked into his steel-gray eyes, saw him smile, and I felt relaxed, comfortable.

That's when he stepped aside, motioned for me to enter. I entered his cabin and froze: inside were two men, both young, dressed only in what looked like loin clothes, as ridiculous as that might sound. Their muscular bodies gleamed in the bright interior lights, their skin covered in some sort oil or lotion.

I gasped, turned to Stuart and he smiled.

"We didn't specify I would be the only participant," he said, closing the door behind me. "We only agreed you'd be mine for the night."

I swallowed, my legs feeling weak, and I thought back to earlier in the evening, wondering what I'd gotten myself into…

*****

I stumbled forward, slamming right into Stuart. I couldn't help it – the ship lurched sideways and I was right against him.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, trying desperately to regain my balance, step away. I looked up into his face – Stuart Richardson is a tall man, about 6'4", with wide soldiers and, in his tailored suit, a narrow, tapered waist. Leaning into him like this I could feel his body was hard, tight, and felt my own body shuddering at his touch. What was it about him? Earlier, at dinner, when our hands brushed, it had been like a little jolt of electricity ran up my arm. And now…

I shook my head, as if trying to shake off the memories of earlier, though I remained against him,, staring up into his steel-gray eyes for a few moments, as if lost. I also noticed his gaze, ever-so-fleetingly, dropped down to my cleavage – not that I could blame him. I was wearing an evening-length formal black dress, with a slit two-thirds the way up my right thigh and a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination, and kept me nervously self-conscious, afraid if I bent over too much my breasts would pop right out.

And, in that moment, I realized my panties were damp, arousal coursing through my body at the simple press against Stuart.

Then I felt heat radiating from my face, and I quickly stepped away as the ship rocked back and I was able to regain my footing. Martin, my husband, took my arm, as if to balance me.

"Really, I am so sorry," I said, a sheepish smile on my face.

"Oh don't apologize, that's been the highlight of my evening so far," he said, a smile playing across his face.

More heat radiating from my face.

He laughed, a quiet, contained little chuckle. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

I smiled again, and then Martin and I stepped away. A few minutes later the captain stepped to the stage where the band was playing and said that, hopefully, we had outpaced the storm and the rough seas shouldn’t be a problem anymore.

"Enjoy your evening," he said before stepping down and disappearing from the ballroom, no doubt headed back to the bridge. I wondered if we really had outpaced the storm, or if he was simply telling us that, trying to calm nerves?

Didn't really matter, whatever happened to us on this cruise surely wasn't going to be as bad as what awaited Martin and me on shore, back home.

Martin and I danced for a few minutes, slowly, and I couldn't help myself – I kept glancing toward Stuart. He was quite the figure – taller than anyone else here, with short black hair that had just a hint of gray at his temples, a thick mustache that was as black as his hair, and a pleasant, inviting smile.

He flashed that smile my direction, and I felt a little shiver go through me.

Martin stepped back, looking at me in the face. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Wow, had my shiver been that strong?

"Um, yeah, I'm…um…fine," I said, fighting with all I was worth to keep my face from turning red. I pulled myself back against Martin, head on his shoulder, so he couldn't see my face, and we continued our slow dance.

What happened next is … odd. I could swear I felt him coming, as if the air rippled and shivered ahead of Stuart as he moved through it. And then, a second later, Martin stepped back, and we turned to see Stuart with his hand on my hubby's shoulder.

"May I cut in?" he asked, his voice rich and velvety.

Martin hesitated, and I could tell he didn't want to seem like a jerk, yet he didn't want Stuart stepping in, dancing with me.

"Just a dance," Stuart said, a soft, almost imperceptible Irish brogue in his words.

"It's okay, Martin, I don't mind," I said, trying to sound as if I were comforting him, not excited at the prospect. I leaned into Martin, my lips against his ear. "Go get us a couple of drinks, I'll join you at the bar after the dance."

He looked at me, uncertainty on his face, then nodded toward Stuart and stepped away.

Stuart pressed his body against mine, and his touch seemed to reach right through me, caressing me somewhere deep inside, embers of the earlier arousal suddenly flaming to life.

We danced, moving slowly, his movements so light and perfect, as if he knew exactly how to lead my steps without every exerting any real pressure on me.

"Your hubby doesn't seem to like me," he said, that Irish accent stronger now.

"No, he just has a lot on his mind right now."

"This is a cruise, you're supposed to leave all of those worries and concerns at port when you board the ship."

I sighed, not sure what to say.

"You seem worried yourself, Danielle."

His use of my name seemed to roll off of his tongue, particular emphasis on the last syllable, and it was absolutely charming. Martin always just called me Dani, unless he was introducing me to a client, then he'd use my full name the first time, but afterward it was always just Dani.

I looked up into Stuart's face. "I don't recall hearing an Irish accent in your voice at dinner."

He smiled. "I travel a lot in my work, I've learned to speak mostly without an accent."

"Mostly?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes it slips through."

I wanted to ask why, what caused it to surface. Instead he pulled me close and simply danced, and I didn't resist, melting into him, my weight against his hard, tight, lean body.

We danced like that for several minutes, the band continuing to play, and I realized the piece was going on a long, long time.

"I think the band is repeating the song," I said.

He gave a soft laugh. "Yes, I paid them to."

A hard shudder ran through me. I know he felt it, but he said nothing, simply continued dancing. I glanced toward the bar, and Martin was there, sitting on a stool, his back to me, taking a drink from his glass.

"Danielle," Stuart said.

"You can just call me Dani," I said, not really wanting to, but thinking that might make conversation a little easier for him.

"Do you like Dani better?"

He was speaking with a full-on brogue now, and it was absolutely charming. And maddeningly arousing.

"No, not really," I whispered. No one had ever asked me which form of my name I preferred.

"Neither do I, Danielle," he said.

I leaned my head against his chest and, strangely, felt safe. Comfortable.

"I don't mean to pry, but you said your husband has a lot on his mind, and at dinner tonight, you both made some passing references to bad business, problems at home."

That's where we had met Stuart. On cruise ships eating with the captain is supposed to be a big deal, and tonight we were at the captain's table, along with Stuart. I suppose it's because we were one of the big spenders on the cruise, in one of the best cabins, throwing away plenty of money on extras.

Of course, when we returned home, we were likely to find a foreclosure notice on both our homes, demand notices from our business creditors. It was all gone – lost, and there was nothing we could do to stop it at this point, so Martin said we were going to go out and have one final fling and spend every last dime before the courts and banks and creditors swooped in to take it all.

I looked up, into Stuart's eyes, and suddenly I felt tears welling in my own eyes, and the vision of his face turned cloudy, so I buried my face in his chest, and spilled it all – told him how Martin had built a small empire. He was a registered stock broker and a real estate agent, and he had made a little money in real estate, so he threw it all in the stock market, convincing others to do the same, running through his own little one-man firm so he could earn the commissions, and every dime he earned would be thrown into yet another business, spiraling outward, taking in property, stocks, oil futures…I really don't know what all he's got going. It's all legal, at least I think it is, but it's not much more than a pyramid scheme, all based on a little money and appearances attracting more money – mostly loans, some investment money – that just keeps piling up, investors expecting returns, creditors expecting payments, and as long as he could keep building, keep expanding into new ventures he could pay what was due on the old ventures.

But that only lasted so long, and now all the bills were coming due and we were running out of new ventures to fund the old ones, running out of money to pay our own bills.

Stuart reached up as I was talking, fingers running through my hair, again making me feel safe, comfortable.

"What would you say if someone came along and could help you two?" he said.

I chuckled. I wasn't up to speed on everything Martin was doing, but I knew full well we were in far too deep for any loan or investment to get us free and clear.

Stuart pulled back, looking down on me. "I'm not joking, Danielle. What would you do to keep yourselves solvent?'

The question caught me so off-guard, I hadn't really thought about it. I stared up at him, not sure what to say, how to respond.

"Would you spend the night with me?'

I stood, staring at him, and realized after a few seconds my mouth was hanging open. I closed my mouth, swallowed hard. "I…" I had no earthly clue what to say.

He leaned down, pressed his lips to mine, kissing, and I felt like a bolt of lightning had shot through my body, every nerve on fire, my heart slamming inside my chest, my lungs suddenly burning because I forgot to breath. My legs grew weak, and when I felt his tongue, my lips parted, taking him in, my own tongue slipping over his, into his mouth.

"What the fuck?"

I felt Martin, stepping between us, pushing me back, shielding me from Stuart.

"Buddy, you ever touch my wife again and I'll beat the shit out of you," he said, hands grasping Stuart's lapel.

I trembled, afraid there was about to be trouble.

Instead, Stuart looked down on my hubby – Martin's about 5'10", and while he's in pretty good shape, I feared taking on Stuart would just get Martin hurt. Stuart smiled and put his hand on Martin's shoulder.

"Martin, I have a business proposition for you, my friend. Let's have a drink and speak of the particulars."

*****

I shivered, and it felt like there were a thousand little butterflies down in my stomach, all jostling and flitting about, rolling over one another. I reached up to knock on the cabin door, and my hand trembled.

I stopped, turned away, and leaned back against the wall. The air was cool, even though we were on a cruise in the Caribbean, where it was always warm, even in the middle of the night. Maybe it wasn't the air, but my skin that was chilled – cold and clammy actually – as I stood there, trying to get my racing heart to slow, to control my breathing.

I closed my eyes, thinking of Stuart, how it had felt earlier, first when our hands touched at dinner, a little jolt of electricity running up my arm, and later, on the dance floor, our bodies pressed together, my head on his chest, everything feeling right, comfortable, as it should be.

Still, I barely knew him, and the idea of…well…giving myself over to him for the night, and the knowledge that my hubby was not only onboard with the idea, but encouraging me to do it…it was just a bit more than I could process.

Without warning the door opened. I twirled to see Stuart, standing there, still dressed as he been at the dance – that tailor-made suit hugging his body, showing off his wide, broad shoulders, narrow waist. I looked into his steel-gray eyes, saw him smile, and I felt relaxed, comfortable.

That's when he stepped aside, motioned for me to enter. I went in, and froze: inside were two men, both young, dressed only in what looked like loin clothes, as ridiculous as that might sound. Their muscular bodies gleamed in the bright interior lights, their skin covered in some sort oil or lotion.

I gasped, turned to Stuart and he smiled.

"We didn't specify I would be the only participant," he said, closing the door behind me, his voice thick with his native Irish accent now. "We only agreed you'd be mine for the night."

I swallowed, my legs feeling weak, and I thought back to earlier in the evening, wondering what I'd gotten myself into. I replayed every word, not only from when we were on the dance floor together, but afterward, as he and Martin and I talked, worked out the details of the evening, as if we were selling some commodity, rather than giving me over to him for the night.

Then again, wasn't that what we had done, made a commodity out of me – or at least my body, selling access to me for the night?

I heard the lock on the door click, then I turned back to Stuart. He smiled again, and despite being nervous – scared even – I nearly melted at his grin. My body trembled as he touched my shoulders, fingers slipping under the shoulder straps of my dress. I moaned as he leaned down, kissing across my chest, his arms encircling me, hands working the zipper down my back.

Before I knew it, he had pushed the straps down from my shoulders, the dress falling from my body, circling my feet on the floor. I drew in my breath, instinctively crossed my arms over my chest, as his hands worked up and down my sides, to my hips, fingers playing inside the edge of my panties.

"Stuart," I whispered, not sure what I would say next. I felt horribly self-conscious, nervous, afraid even. Martin and I had been married for six years, and I'd never been with another man in all that time, never even touched or kissed someone else.

And now I stood, dressed only in my thong, in the luxury cabin of a man we just met hours earlier.

I gasped, my body shuddering as other hands touched me now – the men dressed in the loin clothes. They were behind me, hands playing along my shoulders, back of my thighs.

"Stuart," I called again.

"Ssshh," he said, finger against my lips. His hands were on my wrists now, pulling my arms away, my breasts exposed. Just then the others pulled my panties down, and I stood, nude, helpless, the three of them touching, caressing, groping.

I cried out as Stuart cupped my breasts, began kissing them, circling my left breast with his kisses, slowly, deliberately kissing round and round, spiraling inward as he did, inward…inward…until his lips touched my nipple. I gasped, and he sucked my nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing, the sucking pressure sending little tremors of deliciously painful pleasure through me. He caressed my other breast with his hand, fingers gently pinching that nipple.

Without warning he pulled away, not-so-gently tugging on both nipples as he did, and then the other two men had me, lifting me, then taking me down to the floor, to the soft, thick carpet there, fingers playing along my body, lips pressing, kissing, tongues tasting.

The overhead lights went out, replaced by blue and light bulbs illuminating the room in dim light. I glanced at Stuart and he simply stood, watching, face impassive. One of the men crawled up until his face was hovering over mine. He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine.

Just then the other man slipped between my legs, and I cried out as I felt his breath on my pussy, his face no more than an inch or two away. Gently he blew on my slit, rippled of aching pleasure rolling over my folds, running through my body.

The first man, the one kissing my mouth – he had shoulder-length blond hair that hung down, tickling my body as he moved – he kissed down my neck, to my chest, hands cupping my breasts, fingers gently rolling my nipples.

The other man – he had short, dark hair worn in a crew-cut – he turned his head to the side, kissed the inside of my left thigh. I groaned as he turned the other way, kissing my right thigh, his fingers now playing along my slit. He pressed, without entering, and I cried out again, waves of arousal, of hot, intense desire, gripping my body.

He pulled away, pushed my legs wide apart, and then he slipped up between my legs, his cock against my pussy, his loin cloth now gone. He thrust forward, entering me hard and fast and deep, stretching me, filling me, every muscle in my body contracting with a sudden wave of orgasm.

I called out, arching my back, thrusting my hips to meet his movements, my body covered in a sheen of sweat, my breath shallow and quick. The other man continued caressing and kissing my breasts, pulling, biting, sucking, sending jags of the most intense, hottest pleasure I'd ever known through my body.

Then the blond pulled away, rolled from me as the other man rose up on his knees, his hands on my hips, holding me to him as he thrust harder, his cock ramming deep – almost painfully so. He continued like that, holding me against him, thrusting hard and deep, grunting and breathing hard, and then he lay on me, his full body weight on mine, rolling, wrapping his arms around me as we did, holding me up against him, and then I found myself on top, his cock still in me, though not as deep. I sat up on him, pressing my hands down onto his chest, groaning as I lifted and then dropped down on him, his cock impaling me. I repeated the movement, over and over, a new wave of orgasm rising, this one harder, deeper, seemingly ever fiber in my body convulsing.

And then the second man was on me again – from behind, pushing me down, until I was nearly lying on top of the blond, his cock still inside me, though not as deep, the blond continuing to thrust, to move up in me.

The second man, the one behind, grabbed my ass, spreading the cheeks apart, and I felt the tip of his cock against my ass hole.

"Wait, what are you doing?" I cried.

I had never, ever had anal sex. Martin and I had talked about it, he had expressed a desire to try it, but I was scared, afraid it would hurt, that it could even be dangerous.

Before I could say anything else, do anything else, the man stabbed his cock inside me, up my ass, as the man under me continued thrusting inside my pussy, his hands squeezing and caressing my breasts.

I screamed, sharp jags of pain erupting from my ass as the other man went inside me, ever so deep. He pulled back and then thrust even harder, deeper, filling me in ways I could never imagine, stretching me in ways harsh and savage than I had ever experienced.

He had coated his cock with something slick and oily, thankfully, yet my ass still burned, the inside stretching, feeling as if membranes and muscle inside might give at any moment, might rip and tear, yet he continued thrusting, pulling back and going deep, a little faster, and little harsher with each downward spike.

I was shivering now, my body overwhelmed with pain, with pleasure, with confusion, with desire and craving, climax building again, the pain somehow contributing to it, taking me higher, and that's when I felt it – hands on my head, fingers wrapping themselves in my hair, yanking my head upward. I opened my eyes to see Stuart there, nude, his body like a statue of muscle and taut, smooth skin, his cock hanging to my face, enormous in both its size and hardness. I opened my mouth for some reason – maybe to gasp, maybe to protest, I don't know, but when I did he shoved his cock inside, then yanked my head forward, ramming his cock oh so deep, stretching my jaws wide, wider than I knew they could ever go, his cock filling me.

I gagged as his cock continued slipping deeper, deeper, the tip slipping to the back of my throat. Good god, how can someone go that deep?

He pulled back just a bit, then yanked me forward again, going just as deep, and I gagged for a moment, and then my attention was diverted when the man behind rammed his cock so much deeper than he had before, far up into my ass.

I screamed, though it was only a gurgled sound around Stuart's cock, saliva now rolling from my mouth, dripping down my chin as Stuart pulled back then rammed forward again, over and over and over.

I lost all sense of time, of my own place there, the only sensation that of the three cocks, thrusting in me, back out, in, back out. Whether intentionally or not, the three of them were moving in perfect rhythm now, more urgently now, more violently, the three of them going deep at the same moment, pulling back at the same time, then going deep again.

My own body was shaking out of control, and while I was still gagging, pain still flaring from my ass, every sensation served to heighten the extreme sense of climax that was building inside me, orgasm more powerful than anything I'd ever known racing through my body. God, it felt like my veins were on fire.

I screamed, body out of control, and that's when the three of them called out, in unison, their bodies shuddering, and the hot streams of cum filling me, shooting down my throat, up into my ass, my pussy.

They kept thrusting, bodies taut, as their semen filled me, the hot, salty taste of Stuart's seed in my mouth, shooting down my throat, making me want more, praying this would never end. My own orgasm gripped my body, and for a few seconds my vision turned gray and I wondered if I might pass out, if climax can be so strong as to steal my very consciousness.

But I didn't pass out. Instead, I continued to feel as if my heart might slam right through my chest, as if my lungs were about to burst for lack of oxygen. The three of them continued pumping, the stream of cum filling my ass feeling like it was shot from a pressure hose. All three of them now were slowing, their cocks coated in their own semen, the cum spilling from my mouth, down my chin, dripping to the floor, more cum running from my pussy, my ass, onto my legs.

The three of them kept pumping, thrusting, for a time, and then they pulled out. First, the one with his dick up my ass, next the one with his cock in my pussy.

Stuart continued for a few seconds, and I was able to draw my knees up under me, get a better position to suck harder, take him in deeper, my own body still shivering with orgasm.

Finally, Stuart gave one last, long cry, and then he relaxed. I sucked hungrily for a few more seconds, then collapsed, my own body suddenly bone-tired, my emotions spent.

I lay there for a time, the other two men beside me now, their bodies warm and sensual next to me, Stuart standing over the three of us. After a minute, maybe two, I rolled onto my stomach, crawled up to my knees and cupped his balls, kissing his still-hard cock.

"That was far too fast," I said.

He smiled, ran his fingers through my hair.

"Our deal was you were mine for the night. It's early yet, and you will fulfill so many of my fantasies before the sun rises."

I shivered, not sure if I was excited, aroused, or frightened.

Or maybe all three, as I wondered what the rest of the evening more entail.

The End (for now)

Pounded on the Boardwalk (Boardwalk Erotica #1)

A Saucy Tale of Public Domination & Group Romance

By Deborah Cockram

There wasn't any kissing or cuddling, nothing gentle or gradual, he just rammed his cock in me hard and deep. Then again, I don't know that I expected anything differently – after all, I didn't really know this guy, we had met only three hours earlier. He was working at the cell phone store on the boardwalk, and Jenny, my best friend, and I met him while we were on the boardwalk, strolling along, checking out all the stores while the guys checked us out.

Lawrence – if that's his name – hadn't even bothered taking off my shirt. He was thrusting hard, ramming his cock up into my pussy, stretching and filling me with each movement. God, his cock must be enormous – I hadn't really seen it. He slipped my shorts down – I wasn't wearing any panties – and then he stood up and went to it. I wrapped my legs around his waist, his arms around me, hands on my ass, while my arms are stretched overhead, my wrists bound to the boards above us.

We're under the boardwalk at Ocean City, New Jersey, with thousands of people walking right over us, laughing, talking, joking, holding hands, guys checking out girls, girls fantasizing about guys, none of them with any idea what's going on just under the boardwalk – where Lawrence is ramming himself into me, hard and fast now, grunting, breathing hard.

My own body is responding. I have to admit to being nervous, scared even – I mean, I'd only met this guy tonight, I don't really know anything about him, and worst of all, all those thousands of people above us. If I glance up I can see them through the cracks between the boards – fat people, skinny people, old people and young, the carnival and shop lights reflecting off of their faces, illuminating them. I know they can't see me like I see them, not unless they get down on all fours, put their faces to the boards and peer through the cracks.

Still, I can't get over the idea they are there, they could see me if they wanted, they might hear us, know what we're doing.

Yet I did it. I let him tie my wrists, stretch my arms up overhead, loop the ropes around big metal hooks he'd driving into the underside of the boards – I guess he's done this before, with other girls, because those hooks were already in place. I have to admit when he started wrapping those ropes around my wrists this little thrill ran through me, sending a shiver along my body, kinda like when I rode the big roller coaster earlier and reached the very top of the highest hill, just a moment before we dropped.

It was like that, only much more intense when he finished tying those ropes and lifted my arms up, hanging the other end of the ropes over those hooks. My pussy was already soaking wet from anticipation when he yanked my shorts down. My own breathing is coming in jagged little gasps, and I'm sweating now – here, with the strong ocean breeze, most of the time the sweat dries up as soon as it forms, particularly in the cooler night air. But not now … I feel my heart racing, I pull up against the rope holding my wrists, squeezing my legs around him.

Then I glance over at Jenny. She's standing there, watching us, her eyes wide, and I notice she's running one hand up and down along her body, pressing her hand against her breasts, while she's pushing through her shorts against her pussy with her other hand.

Lawrence calls out – he whispers some name, though it's not mine. Maybe his girlfriend's, maybe some woman he's fantasizing about – and when he does my own heart seems to skip a beat. He squeezes my ass so hard it hurts a little. I gasp as he rams even harder up in me, if that's possible.

I'm gasping now. It's all too much – his hands on me, his cock thrusting back and forth, filling me, stretching me while he grunts and gasps, the feel of the ocean breeze blowing over us, whipping my hair around my head and face, the roar of the ocean off over the dunes, just out of sight, the constant sound of the waves washing in and out – and I feel orgasm building. No, not building, exploding in me.

"Fuck," I call out. No, I scream – my god, I've never felt anything like this before. Honestly, I've only done it a handful of times, and it's always quick and kinda intense but it sure seems the guy is the one that gets all excited, cumming before I really get going.

But now, tonight, my body is a bundle of hot nerves, deep intense sensations, and I feel like an electric charge is racing up and down my body. His cock his huge, and every time he pulls back and thrusts I feel the most intense, powerful waves of euphoria.

He's moving fast now, faster than I've ever felt a guy thrusting, his hands squeezing so hard, pulling my ass cheeks apart, sending delicious little rivulets of pleasurable pain running through me as he continues ramming in me. I pull up hard, the rope biting into my wrists, and every single sensation, each feeling, is all mingling now into one, deep, overpowering feeling of intense ecstasy.

"Jesus H. Christ," I scream, not having any idea why I say that, what those words mean, they just come. Then I cry out – fuck, oh god, Lawrence, I think I even called Jenny's name a couple of times – as I felt the orgasm washing through me, the most awesome sense of deep pleasure I'd ever known. I was almost lost in my own little world of pleasure – almost. I was aware enough to notice Jenny moaning, her shorts now unzipped, her hands inside, fingers no doubt pressing against her clit, bringing herself to climax as she watched Lawrence fuck my brains out.

Then I felt Lawrence cum inside me, his semen shooting hard up in me, like it was shot from a high-powered hose. That's the other thing, when I've had sex before with my ex-boyfriend, he'd cum, but I'd hardly feel anything, other than his dick getting slicker with his own semen. Lawrence came hard and strong and I could feel it shooting inside me.

He thrust oh-so-much harder – damn, it felt almost as if he were going to split my pussy – those final three or four thrusts, not that I cared. Everything, every sensation, mingled together in the most awesome, overwhelming, feeling of euphoria I'd ever known, ever imagined.

I shuddered as a second wave of orgasm gripped me – at least I think it was a second wave. Hell, it might have been part of the first orgasm, I wasn't sure. I know I had never, ever felt anything like this, never even dreamed sex could feel like this. I squeezed my legs as tightly as I could around him as Lawrence kept thrusting, slower now, with less urgency, his breathing still coming in gasps, but shallower, not quite as deep.

Finally, he quite thrusting. I groan – I want him to keep moving, to keep cumming – but it's clear even Lawrence has a limit. He kisses along my neck while I keep my legs wrapped around his waist.

"Oh baby, you're incredible," he whispers, and I wonder what he means by that. All I did was hang here, tied to the boardwalk above, while he fucked me. Does it really matter who's here? Am I better than other girls he's had, than Jenny would have been? Or does he whisper those words to everyone?

Just then he bites my neck and suck, pressing his tongue against my skin has he does.

"What are you doing?" I cry out. Somehow, having this stranger man's dick up my pussy, cumming hard in me while he's got me tied up doesn’t bother me, but the idea he'd leave a hickey on my neck freaks me out a little bit.

I try squirming, turning away, take my legs down from him, but he holds me, sucking hard, and damn, I know it's going to bruise badly. Finally he pulls away. I'm a little angry now, because he did that, but then he bends down and starts kissing along the inside of my left thigh, then the right, back and forth between the two legs, and I feel a new wave of pleasure starting to build. I close my eyes, let myself get lost in the sound of the ocean and wind, the feel of his hands on me, his lips on my legs.

Then I realize there's a second pair of hands on me and my eyes snap open and I see Jenny is there, with him, kissing one leg while Lawrence kisses the other. It's a strange sensation, to have my best friend touching me. I've never really felt desire for another woman, never really even been that curious about what it would be like to kiss another girl, but her touches are so soft, so sensual.

Then Lawrence stands up.

"That's enough for tonight," he says before stepping away, disappearing into the darkness. He returns with a little step ladder. He pulls up his pants, then climbs the ladder, unhooking the rope from the left side first, then the right. I fall to the sand below – it's not really that far, I was only hanging a few inches above the ground – but I let myself collapse onto the cool, gritty sand.

He climbs down, hides the ladder off in the shadows, then pulls me to my feet.

"You like that?" he whispers.

"Yes," I answer.

"This was just a taste. Come back tomorrow night, I'll blow your mind. Both of you. Be here at 10:30." With that he lets me go and slips away, and I fall back to the sand, not wanting to move, to leave, wanting this sensation to remain. Finally, Jenny helps me back to my feet, gets me dressed and we go back to our place.

The next day seemed to go on forever. We went down to the beach and hung out for several hours, but I have to confess all I could think about was Lawrence, and feel of his cock inside me. My pussy was … well, it wasn't sore today, but it was tender, almost in a state of constant arousal. Once Jenny and I went out into the ocean to swim just a bit, and even the sensation of the waves splashing against me, forcing themselves between my legs, sent little shivers of pleasure rolling through me. God, I'd never felt anything like that last night, and my whole body seemed ready to respond to just the slightest sensation today.

The sun was hot on us today, and I even found myself looking at Jenny differently, becoming just a little aroused at the sight of the sun glistening off of her sweaty, sun-screen-covered body. Jenny is dark-haired, with long flowing hair (though it's up in a ponytail today) and darkly tanned skin – during the day, when she's in the sun it starts to look a little red, but it just turns darker once she's out of the sun. She's taller than me, and slender, while I have dirty blonde hair and am more fair-skinned. I tend to turn a light golden color during the summer, and I'm as golden as I've ever been since Jenny and I decided to spend a couple of weeks here, in Ocean City. I'm a little curvier than Jenny – not overweight, but with definite hips, larger breasts, and a tight little bubble-butt.

Finally, the lifeguards climb down and blow their whistles, signaling it was time for everyone to get out of the water. They do that at 5 o'clock every day. They can't really close the ocean, but they do force everyone to leave the water while they break down their equipment and leave. After that, you can go back into the water, but it's on your own, at your own risk, which means the city is off the hook if you drown or get bitten by a shark.

That also means it's time for Jenny and I to head back and get ready to meet Lawrence again. I have no idea what he could have in store for us.

This was just a taste. Come back tomorrow night, I'll blow your mind. Both of you.

That last thing he said to us had been running through my mind all day. What more could he do? Was he going to go all Christian Grey on us and pull out the whips and gags? I wouldn't be opposed to that, although I honestly had never seen the appeal. Then again, I'd never wanted to be tied up before last night, never really expected to have sex with a complete and total stranger.

Until last night.

Jenny and I had talked a little about it today, but not much. I think she was embarrassed a little about having touched me while I was tied up, and I didn't really know what to say about that either. So we made little allusions to tonight, to what Lawrence might do, without really mentioning last night much.

We ran back to our place, showered then went to dinner. I didn't eat much – I was too nervous, trying to dream up what Lawrence might have in store. We went back on the boardwalk after dark, strolling as the breeze blew in from the ocean. For a while we stayed away from the cell phone store – I was afraid we'd find Lawrence flirting with some other girls, just like he'd done with me and Jenny last night. I know that sounds silly – I mean, we're strangers, I have no claim on him, and I'm sure Lawrence has done this with other girls. Hell, he picked us up last night after being rejected by another pair.

Jenny and I slipped in the crowd opposite the boardwalk from the store and watched. He was inside, helping customers, slipping outside at times to chat with passers-by, but he never really flirted with anyone.

Finally, after an agonizingly long evening, some of the boardwalk shops closed their doors, the lights began winking out, and Jenny and I headed for the sand, slipping under the boardwalk where he'd taken us last night. Lawrence told us he'd get off work at ten o'clock tonight and he'd be there by 10:30, that we should be waiting for him. We arrived at 10:15 and he was already waiting for us, rope in hand.

"You gonna tie me up again?" I asked, the idea sending a little tremble through me. I'd never been tied up before last night, never really thought much about it, but when he had me bound, hanging from those hooks, ramming his cock inside me – I was beyond out of my head with pleasure. I guess it helped that I wasn't alone with him, that Jenny was there, watching, and she'd help if I really needed it.

"Oh yes," he said, holding the rope up.

Without waiting for instructions I held my hands out in front of me.

He shook his head from side to side.

"What?" I asked.

"Take your shirt off."

Last night he'd fucked me with my shirt still on. Guess he wanted to be able to touch everything tonight. I slipped my shirt over my head – I was wearing a bikini top instead of a bra. It tied in back and had a neck strap that tied behind my neck. I started to reach up and unfasten the knot.

"No," he said. "Leave it."

I held out my hands and he wrapped the rope around my right wrist, looping it loosely around multiple times, then running the rope back up under the loops before pulling it tight. He'd done the same last night – I guess having it wrapped around my wrist so many times kept the weight evenly distributed, rather than a single strand digging into my wrist.

He did the same with my left, then pulled the step ladder over, climbed up and looped the rope over the hooks in the bottom of the boardwalk. That's when I noticed it—there were two pair of hooks there tonight. The ones he had hung me from the night before, which he was looping the ropes around now, and a second set not far from the first.

He yanked on the ropes, pulling my arms straight and tight overhead, then he continued pulling, until I was dangling several inches above the sand.

Lawrence turned to Jenny. "Your turn, darling," he said.

Jenny stood, her mouth open. We hadn't talked about this – he had warned us if we returned he'd have something for both of us, but we never thought what might happen if he wanted to tie her up too. I mean, we'd both be truly helpless.

She looked at me. I didn't know what to say or do.

"Come on, darling, either let me tie you or there's no deal tonight. Nothing."

She shrugged, then slipped her shirt off – she was wearing a bikini top as well, though she had no shoulder or neck strap holding it up – and then held her hands out. He looped the rope around both of her wrists, just like he'd done to me, and before you know it she was hanging from the other two hooks, facing me. We were maybe a foot apart.

That's when I heard it – voices, from the darkness under the boardwalk, near us, approaching.

"Oh my god, someone's coming," I said, my heart suddenly leaping until my throat.

"Sssh," Lawrence said, putting his finger over his mouth signaling for us to be quiet.

I was trembling now, waiting, the voices getting louder, closer, and then they emerged into the faint light filtering through the boardwalk from overhead – two guys.

"Damn," one of them said. He was tall – probably 6'4", and slender, while the other one looked to be about 5'10" and incredibly thick, like a bodybuilder.

"Please, please," I said, though I don't know what I was going to say next.

That's when I heard it – Lawrence laughing. He stepped from the shadows and slapped me on the ass.

"These are a couple of my friends," he said. "With your ladies' permission, I thought I'd share."

I looked at him, suddenly a little afraid. What the hell was he doing? Share? Like I was some piece of meat, something he owned?

The fear faded to a strange feeling of arousal – that's exactly what I was, just a sex object he used last night, and one he plans to use again tonight. Jenny, too.

He stepped to me, wrapped his arms around me, untied the bikini top and let it fall, his mouth just inches from my right breast. He leaned forward, kissing my nipple, sucking on it. I gasped, a shudder rolling through me. He pulled away, stepped back.

"Of course, if you don't want to, I'll take you down, give you your clothes and you're free to go."

A new wave of uncertainty washed through me, and I was scared that he would let us go, would make us leave. I remembered what he said last night -- This was just a taste. Come back tomorrow night, I'll blow your mind. Both of you.

A sudden, burning desire bloomed inside me. I wanted … whatever it was they were going to do. I wanted to feel it, see it, be part of it.

I looked at Jenny. She smiled – Jenny was a little more reserved in public, but I know her – we've been roommates for a year, and I know she's hot for new experiences, new guys.

"Yes," I whispered.

"What was that?" Lawrence asked.

"I said yes, keep…keep us."

Even in the shadows I could see Lawrence smile. He glanced at Jenny, she nodded, and without another word they stripped and were on us. The tall one slipped between Jenny and me, facing me, kissing my breasts, licking, tasting, his large, rock-hard cock slipping between my legs.

The second one, the bodybuilder, he slipped between us too, facing Jenny – the two guys were back to back now, right up against one another, and best I could tell he was doing the same to Jenny that the tall one was doing to me.

I lifted my legs, wrapped them around his waist, and the rammed his cock inside me – god, he was large, stretching me, filling me, jolts of intense pleasure shooting from my pussy, up and down my body. He pulled back and rammed forward again and began thrusting, hard, fast, his hands now on my breasts, squeezing, fondling as he kissed my nipples, first one, then the other.

Good god, orgasm was coming fast – too fast. I wanted to hold out, wait, make this last. I looked over him at Jenny – she was hanging from the hooks, too, her face twisted in a grimace of pleasure, her eyes closed, mouth open, panting as the bodybuilding thrust over and over.

My own breathing was coming fast and shallow now, my heart pounding, sweat beading across my body. I'd never felt anything like this, never experienced anything even remotely like the sensations rocking through my body.

That's when I felt Lawrence slip behind me, his hands on my ass, squeezing, slapping. I flinched when he smacked, orgasm now rushing through me.

Then he did it – pressed the tip of his cock against my tiniest hole. That's right, up against my ass.

I froze, the orgasm that had been gripping me coming to a quick, sudden stop. I'd never had anal sex, always been scared of it – I mean, an asshole is tiny, just not made for something like a fully engorged dick sticking up inside.

Without warning he pressed forward, his cock slipping inside – he pushed halfway in, and the most awesome, overwhelming, painful sensation I'd ever known erupted from my ass. Pain and agony and the strangest, most unusual sense of …. arousal. That's right, a strange, alien feeling of sexual arousal, mingling with the pain. I mean, god, he pulled back and rammed forward again, going all the way in, and his cock stretched me inside in ways I didn't think were possible. Muscle, tendons, whatever the hell is in there was stretched and pulled and pressed, and I cried out as the two of them – Lawrence and the tall one – kept thrusting hard, faster, more urgent with each second.

The absolute most magnificent, absolutely overwhelming orgasm suddenly rolled over me, gripping every centimeter of my body – inside and out.

"Mother fuck," I screamed, my voice reduced after that to groans and grunts, sounds that really weren't words. My ass burned with every thrust he made, but the burning intermingled with powerful, almost painful bolts of pleasure shooting from my ass, at the same time my pussy was convulsing with orgasm.

The two of them continued pumping me. Vaguely I was aware of their grunting, calling out, their hands on me – squeezing my breasts and my ass – and somewhere in the back of my mind I notice Jenny crying out, reaching her own orgasm with the bodybuilding. If someone had walked by, they would have seen the five of us there, all bodies and movement, right up against one another, the three men pounding the two of us.

Wave after wave of orgasm shot through me now. I couldn't stop it, couldn't control it. I was soaked in sweat, and I continued groaning, whimpering, squeezing my legs around the tall one as they continued thrusting.

Almost at the same moment the two of them came, their semen filling me, squirting into my pussy and inside my ass, filling me, dripping out onto my ass, my legs, to the ground below us. The feel of both of them cumming like that heightened my orgasm just a little more, and for a few seconds I thought I might die, that my lungs would burst and my heart would jump right out of my chest.

Then the world stopped for a few seconds – they were still thrusting, I was still squeezing, but I was aware of everything around me – the feel of the breeze off of the ocean, the sound of the waves, the noise of all those people walking the boardwalk above us, just inches from a mass orgy with me right in the middle.

Then those seconds passed, and I came back down from the climax. The two of them were slowing their movements, their breathing coming in longer, less fevered gasps, my own slowing just a bit as well.

And then they pulled out, again at the same time, and I felt suddenly empty, now hanging from my wrists with my full weight on them. A few seconds later bodybuilder finished with Jenny and stepped away as well, leaving her hanging. Suddenly, hanging there, seeing her naked, helpless body, I had a quick little desire to kiss her, to taste her nipples and run my own hands across her. Of course, I couldn't, though I did lift my foot and run it along her leg, feeling a little tremble run through her when I did.

The guys saw it, too, and gave out a few little laughs, then they pushed us together, our bodies pressed to one another. Without thinking I wrapped my legs around her waist, and she pressed her lips to mine, kissing. We stayed like that a few moments, then the guys pulled us apart.

I looked around – they were dressing, and within a few seconds the two strangers – hell, I don't even know their names – were gone. Lawrence ran his fingers along my pussy, sending another shiver through me, then he took us down, gave us our clothes and walked away.

I had no idea if we'd see him again. No, that's not true. We would see him again – I'd make sure of that.

The End

Stripped, Licked & Stuffed at the Theater (Boardwalk Erotica #2)

A Titillating Tale of Public Domination, Romance

By Deborah Cockram

The hardest, most violent tremble I've ever experienced rumbled through my body. I clenched my teeth, fighting with everything I had to keep from moaning, from calling out, from stamping my feet on the floor. I pulled, hard, on the binds around my wrists, roping digging painfully into my skin, and I was thankful Lawrence had insisted on tying my hands. I don't know what his fascination with bondage is, but I do know if my hands weren't tied down by my sides, by a rope that was strung under the seat, I'd be pounding my hands on the arms of the chair.

And since we are sitting in a movie theater, presumably where we're supposed to be quiet while the movie is playing, I'm quite certain that would have drawn attention to us. And given the fact I was sitting here naked from the waist down, his face buried in my pussy, I knew attracting attention would be a bad thing. A very bad thing.

Let me back up just a bit, explain what's going on. I don't want you to think I'm some kind of a slut, though I suppose that would be hard to argue against given the past couple of days, but until my best friend Jenny and I came to Ocean City to spend a couple of weeks over the summer I'd only been with one guy – my ex-boyfriend, and we'd only had sex maybe a half dozen times.

Then we met Lawrence, of all places at a cell phone store on the boardwalk. He was working, selling phones and plans and, I think truth be told mostly flirting, when we started talking, and the next thing I know he had me hanging by my arms under the boardwalk that night, my hands bound to the boardwalk overhead, fucking my brains out while Jenny watched. The next night was even hotter, and rougher .

Anyway, after those first two nights we went our separate ways for a couple of days – Lawrence doing who knows what else, and I spending the time recovering, getting over the soreness, trying to figure how in the hell I let myself get caught up with a stranger, letting him do whatever he wanted with me.

And then I went back to the boardwalk, this time without Jenny, and Lawrence asked me if I wanted to go out to a movie.

So here we are, at the Moorehouse Family Theater. It's a pleasant day outside – sunny and clear, with temps around 90, which means the beach is full and the theater is mostly empty.

Good thing.

Anyway, we came in for the noon matinee, slipping into second row from the front. I hate sitting down here at a movie theater, because the screen is up high, and we have to sit with our necks craned a bit. I asked Lawrence about that when we first came in, but he told me this would be better because no one else likes to sit down this low either, meaning no one would be in the row in front of us or the two or three rows behind us.

I thought that was odd, but it became apparent soon enough.

Eventually the lights dimmed, the commercials played, and then the movie started. The theater was mostly empty – probably no more than forty or fifty people around, and none in the front 15 or so rows.

I was sitting on Lawrence's right. I rested my forearm on the arm of the chair between us, and after a few minutes Lawrence slipped his right arm around me, the other hand playing up and down my forearm, sending little shivers through me. We'd had some hot, hard pounding sex already, but he hadn't just touched me, you know, kind of romantically, and I was enjoying it.

After a few minutes he leaned over and nuzzled my neck. It felt good, but I was becoming self-conscious. I mean, we were down in the front of the theater, and even though it was dark I couldn't get over the idea that everyone back behind us could see what we were doing, that they were watching us.

I would soon learn a little light making out in public was the least of my concerns.

He slipped his hand, the one playing along my arm, down to my legs. I was wearing shorts, and when his fingers touched the skin of my thighs I flinched. It was almost like a little electric charge shot through me. My pussy grew wet, quickly, as he worked his hand up my leg, to my crotch, unsnapped my shorts and then pulled the zipper down.

"Oh Jesus," I whispered when he slipped his fingers around the edge of my panties.

"Take them off," he whispered.

"What?"

"Your shorts and panties. Slip them off."

I was stunned. Was he serious? I couldn't say anything, do anything, other than shake my head from side-to-side.

He pulled his arms away from me, crossed them over his chest and stared straight ahead at the screen.

"Oh come on," I whispered, wanting his arm back around me, his hand inside my shorts.

He didn't acknowledge me, just watched the movie.

Damn, I don't know how he does this. The other night, when he convinced me to let him string me up like that – I mean he was a total stranger at that point – I really couldn't stop myself. And the next night, when the did the same thing but brought those other guys along – he told me I could say no at any time – I let them do things to me I'd never even imagined. It was almost as if I were simply a sex toy, an object to be used for his desire, and I loved every second of it.

And now, sitting here, in this theater, he was making another impossible demand of me. And I couldn't help myself.

I planted my feet against the chairs in front of me and pressed into the back of my chair and then slowly, ever-so-gradually, I lifted my hips and slipped my shorts and panties down my thighs. I lifted my feet and legs just a bit and slipped them the rest of the way, over my knees, and let them fall to the floor.

I shivered, certain someone – hell everyone – behind us could tell what I had done. I waited for the lights to come on, or someone from the theater to appear, order us to leave.

Nothing happened.

After a few minutes he leaned back over to me, arm back around my shoulders. With his other hand he pulled a rope from his pocket and dangled it in front of me.

"Tie this around your right wrist," he whispered.