Healthy Addictions Read online

  ‘I don’t have experience.’

  ‘Hello? This is Seattle. There’s Barista U over in Greenlake. You take a few classes and ... wham!You’re experienced.’

  ‘That’s not what I want to do with the rest of my life.’

  ‘It’s something you can do while you figure out what to do with the rest of your life.’

  ‘Good point. Wow, that was easy. I don’t feel like Lily Bart any more.’

  Lee stood up and the robe I’d leant her fell to the floor. My knees went weak at the sight of her beckoning curves.

  ‘I could get addicted to you, Meg.’

  ‘And I could get addicted to the coffee you’re going to make me every morning after we’ve made each other happy all night long.’

  I put my arm around Lee and led her back to the bedroom.

  Sexual Communication

  by Landon Dixon

  ‘Fuck me! Fuck me!’ Agnes shrieked, her body bouncing and tits flopping to my frantic thrusting.

  I tried to quiet her down by sticking a couple of fingers into her mouth. But she spat them out, kept right on with the filthy verbal barrage, accentuated by some high-pitched moaning and groaning.

  I had the big, brassy blonde pinned down on my bed, leaning on her legs and pounding into her pussy, her ankles up around my ears. The woman had an insatiable appetite for sex, and the voice to match it; a flapper with a dirty yapper.

  Only problem was, the crummy rooming house I was living in had paper-thin walls and cardboard floors, doors and ceilings. I’d been warned about making noise before by the shrew who managed the place, and while the rest of the country might be imbibing richly in what they called The Jazz Age, for me, an aspiring newspaperman, the rundown rooming house off 32nd Street was all I could presently afford. Getting kicked out meant bunking next to the curb.

  So, before escorting Agnes to a neighbourhood speakeasy and plying her with bathtub gin, I’d made sure my ancient bed was pulled away from the wall, the springs oiled as best I could make them, the feet padded with towels. In anticipation of just such an exciting conclusion to our evening.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do about Agnes’s mouth. I kissed it, frenched it, fingered it. But still she insisted on making with the obscene noises, as I thumped her into the mattress, pistoning her pussy with my cock. And I wasn’t even supposed to have women up to my room.

  I grabbed onto Agnes’s fleshy, flapping tits and squeezed. She squealed with delight, clutching my hands. I fucked her harder, faster, and she screamed at me to go faster, harder.

  I gave up trying to quiet her down and got down to the business of getting her (and I) off. Sweat blurred my vision, as I looked down at her. She stuck out her tongue again, searching for my tongue. I gave it to her, pushing my head down and bending her legs almost in two. We slapped our tongues together, my pace never letting up on her pussy.

  ‘Yes! Fuck me, Chester! Fuck my juicy cunt with your big, hard cock!’ she spouted in my face, just so there was no confusion about which room all the noise was coming from.

  Agnes’s frenetically foul language and erotic sound effects were probably giving my landlady a conniption two floors below, the religious nut in the room opposite a heart attack. And the tiny, quiet, innocent-looking brunette inhabiting the room next to mine had probably already fled out into the night to escape the wanton debauchery.

  The bedsprings creaked and the bed cracked against the wall despite my best precautionary efforts, adding to the cacophony of sound created by hot flesh smacking against flesh, Agnes screaming her head off and almost mine. There was no point in even trying to muffle our passions any more. We were beyond that point anyway now.

  I squeezed Agnes’s tits like a vice and slammed into her pussy like a runaway train, grunting and groaning myself. The writhing woman flung her arms up over her head and grabbed onto the iron bars of the bed, yelling, ‘I’m coming, Chester! I’m coming! I’m coming!’

  And she did, loud and long enough to bring the whole house down. She shuddered out of control, gushing hot juices against my drilling cock, her face and chest blazing with the heat of orgasm.

  I jackhammered my hips and her pussy, riding her like a runaway filly at Belmont Park. Then I let loose myself, hollering, ‘Fuck, Agnes!’ and spurting into her velvety pussy, again and again and again.

  I collapsed on top of her, our sweaty bodies melding together. I fully expected an eviction notice to come shooting under the door, or the rooming house to erupt in applause. But what I didn’t expect was for the wall in front of me to start vibrating. Gasping for breath, I stared at it over the top of Agnes’s head. It was definitely shaking, and not with our carnal cavorting any more.

  Curious, I reached through the iron slats of the bed and touched the wall. The faded wallpaper and quarter-inch plywood trembled against my hand; not rhythmically, like made by a machine, but rather spasmodically, like made by ... I didn’t know what.

  Agnes grasped my chest and swirled her naughty tongue around my nipples, sucked one into her hungry mouth and tugged on it. As I felt heat, definite heat, through the wall, along with those strange vibrations.

  Agnes soon dumped me for a wealthier man, one who actually had two thin dimes to rub together. So, I tried to get to know my neighbour next door a little better, the quiet one with the long dark hair and large blue eyes, the ballerina-slip of a body. To get my mind off the materialistic Agnes and the money-lousy copyediting job I had at The Post.

  I couldn’t ask my landlady about the girl, because we weren’t on speaking terms. Ditto with the Reverend. I tried Jimmy Dooley down the hall, but the part-time gambler, full-time ne’er-do-well knew nothing about her either, other than ‘a swell set of gams!’

  One night, after another tedious 12-hour shift at The Post, I brushed my brown hair back into a glossy sheen and put on my one good suit, a twinkle in my brown eyes, and strolled down the hallway and knocked on her door.

  The flimsy portal squeaked open a crack, and a pair of big blue eyes looked out at me. ‘Hello, Mona,’ I said. I’d gotten that much from her mailbox downstairs. ‘I was just wondering if I might borrow some sugar?’

  I grinned, teeth freshly scrubbed.

  She shook her head and shut the door in my face.

  Jimmy Dooley slapped me on the back as he staggered by. ‘KO in the first round, huh, kid?’ he slurred.

  I stomped back to my room, an evening of pleasant get-acquainted conversation iced like the weather outside. I tore off my suit and dove onto the bed. I hadn’t gotten that frosty a reception since I’d asked my boss at the paper for a raise. I gripped the pillow and glowered.

  Then an idea came to me, dirty as the slush-filled streets outside. I pumped the bed. Once, twice, rhythmically. I’d show her, or at least make her hear what she was missing.

  Being an amateur vaudevillian, I wasn’t bad with voices – male and female. I used them now, moaning, ‘Ooohh, yes!’ in a high pitch, and thumping the mattress with my loins, rattling the bars with my hands.

  The bed was pushed up against the wall, and I drove that Civil War-era sleeper just about right through the wafer-thin partition, groaning and squealing up a sexual storm. My cock hardened with all the excitement, blood pumping all through me.

  I shut my eyes and vigorously humped the bed, images of the naked Agnes and the modest ice queen next door flashing through my mind. Springs creaked and legs scuffed and railing banged against the wall in an unmistakable tempo. Screaming filled the room, tenor and falsetto, bass and soprano. There could’ve been an orgy going on in there for all the noise I was making.

  My balls boiled, cock surging against the sheets. I opened my eyes and glared at the wall, giving it good and hard to the princess next door. Until I suddenly noticed that the wall was vibrating back.

  I stilled my loins, staring at the wallpaper. There was that same strange shaking I’d seen on my last night with Agnes. I pressed my hand up against the trembling wall. It was warm.

&
nbsp; I rolled off the bed and jumped to my feet. I had to find out the cause of those mysterious gyrations. Fucking my mattress would keep.

  I muscled the window up with a gut-wrenching screech and ducked on through, out onto the fire escape. It was freezing, and I was in just my underwear, but I crept along the iron walkway over to my neighbour’s window. I peered through the cracked-open curtain, into Mona’s room. And I got warm, all hot and bothered.

  The slender little innocent slip of a girl was backed up against the wall adjoining mine, completely naked, one hand on a pale, perfectly-formed breast, cupping, other hand down in between her legs on top of her black-furred sex, rubbing.

  It was a stunning tableau, as unexpected as a tasty meal at an automat. I blinked snow and wonder out of my eyes, staring at that pretty young woman blatantly getting off on what she thought and heard was going on in my room. Or had been going on in my room. She was too far gone by the looks of things to even notice the cessation of shenanigans across the way, her eyes closed and mouth open, one hand squeezing, other rubbing. Her dark hair streamed down her shoulders, her ivory body glowing, smooth, silky legs and arms trembling.

  She shuddered against the wall, either coming or coming close to it.

  My cock compelled me to seize the opportunity, capitalise on my advantage of surprise. I heaved the window open and tumbled inside Mona’s apartment.

  She stared at me, her eyes gone wide, hands on her tit and pussy stilled. I crawled over to her on my hands and knees, worshiping her body with my eager expression. She shivered when I gripped her tiny waist, shuddered when I thrust my tongue through her fingers and against her damp pussy.

  We’d never been formally introduced, but the sexy situation called for bold and direct action, and I was taking it. And Mona wasn’t yelling at me, or swatting my head away. I took that as encouragement, slithering my tongue into the downy fur of her pussy. Until her hand dropped away and I had free and open access to her dripping sex.

  Joyously gazing up at her, I took a long, hard lick, from deep in between her legs to the top of her furline, dragging my wet tongue over her slit. She grabbed onto my head, and I exulted, breathing in the tangy scent of her pussy. Before clutching her tight little buttocks and serving her sex right up into my mouth, and licking and licking. She quivered in my hands and on the end of my tongue, tasting just as sweet as she looked.

  I speared right through her pink petals and inside her pussy, squirming my tongue around. Her fingernails bit into my scalp and her breasts jumped. I sought out her clit with the tip of my tongue and found it – hard and swollen. I flicked it, licked it, sucked on it, Mona trembling with delight.

  I rose up on my knees, trailing my tongue up from her pussy and over the smooth, tightened skin of her stomach. I dipped into her bellybutton and spun my sticker around. Then rose higher, up onto my own two feet, gripping Mona’s waist and licking in between her rising and falling breasts.

  Her blue eyes stared meaningfully into mine, and I cupped her breasts, gently squeezed them. Then not-so-gently groped and kneaded the firm, ripe pair. I licked a kitten-pink nipple, the other one, happy to see the buds stiffen and lengthen. I took one of the rubbery protuberances into my mouth and sucked on it.

  Mona arched her back, offering up her tits to me. But she didn’t say a word. Being used to Agnes’s boisterous notion of lovemaking, the silence was strange. Yet sublimely sensual, a stimulant more powerful than a mouthful of dirty talk. Mona’s eyes and face, the reactions of her body, told me all I needed to know.

  I pushed her wettened breasts together and wagged my tongue across both of her jutting nipples at once. She responded by grabbing onto the erection stretching out my underwear, and it was my turn to shudder. And groan loudly, as well.

  Her soft, warm hand felt wonderful on my pulsing length. I buried my face in her breasts, revelling in the heated tug of her hand on my prick.

  I had to fuck her, and now, before it was too late. She sensed my urgency, clawing my drawers down and gripping my bare cock and steering the mushroomed tip into her fur. I helped her, parting her slick, swollen lips with my hood and driving shaft deep into the hot, wet tunnel of her pussy.

  ‘Yes!’ I breathed in her shining face.

  She flung her arms around me and kissed me, her lips warm and moist. I grasped her little shoulders and kissed her back, oiling my cock back and forth inside of her. She darted her tongue into my mouth, and I tongued her back, pumping her up against the wall.

  I moved my hips faster, surging my cock in her pussy, our tongues twirling together. Her fingernails bit into my back, then my ass, urging me on. I groaned, fucking her harder. The pictures and plates she had up on the wall rattled, as I pounded into her. And I made up for her lack of verbiage by sucking my tongue back into my mouth and using it, to cry, ‘Fuck! Yes!’

  I bellowed loud enough for all the listening tenants to hear, and most of the people in the street, banging the girl into the wall. She rained wet kisses down on my burning face and dug her hands into my pumping buttocks. I grabbed onto her tits again and crushed them in my hands, torquing up the cocking pressure even more, churning her pussy.

  Pictures and plates tumbled off the wall and crashed down onto the floor, the entire building shaking in rhythm to our frenzied lovemaking. ‘I’m going to come!’ I wailed, stroking like a madman.

  She beat me to it. Her mouth broke open in a silent scream and her eyes rolled back in her head, her supple body vibrating in my hands. I rocked her back against the wall, roaring, ‘Here I come!’ And then erupting inside her, soul-shattering burst after burst.

  It was raucous enough to wake the dead, especially the sexually dead. Our landlady hammered on the door, shrilling, ‘What’s going on in there?! Who’s in there?!’

  Mona and I clung to one another, breathing hard, our bodies bathed in sweat. I rutted my cock around in her gripping pussy, still convulsing with the aftershocks of ecstasy.

  ‘Open this door!’ the landlady screamed.

  Mona looked at me and motioned at her mouth, shook her head. Then pointed at the window.

  It took me a few seconds and a couple more demonstrations before I finally caught on. Mona didn’t make any noise because she couldn’t speak – she was a mute. And if I slipped out the window and back to my room, the landlady couldn’t blame Mona for all the noise, and wouldn’t know who had been in Mona’s room with her.

  I kissed the smiling girl on the lips and made my exit as I’d made my entrance. Over in my room, I heard the shrew yelling at Mona, and getting no satisfactory reply. Maybe the Reverend had been preaching to a sinner in his room?

  Later, I felt a vibration against the wall. I pressed my own body to the hot spot and shook the wall back. I was now on intimate terms with my lovely next-door neighbour, sexual communication the most expressive language of all.

  Excavations

  by K D Grace

  ‘Go on, Gina,’ Mike said nodding to the small stand of oak and beech trees where The Professor stood having what he no doubt thought was a private moment. ‘I dare you.’

  ‘Shut up,’ I hissed. ‘He’ll hear us.’

  ‘If you can’t heat up the Ice Man, who can? I know you want to.’ Mike gave me a playful shove in The Professor’s direction, and I responded with an elbow in his ribs resulting in a low grunt. I couldn’t take my eyes off the man in the trees giving himself a good grope. He’d asked us to call him Ed, but since I was only a lowly volunteer who never got close enough to have a real conversation with him, I still thought of him as The Professor. Seeing him this way was like a fantasy come true. Possibly he had stepped into the trees for a pee, but he certainly wasn’t anxious to zip up and get back to work. I wasn’t sure he could even if he’d wanted to. He leant back against a tree. His eyes were closed, his fly was open. His cock was at full attention in one hand. The other scooped in his pants to ease his balls from their constraint. For ages he stood there motionless, chest rising and falling in deep breaths, just h
olding himself.

  He was unshaven, hair slightly mussed, like he’d just got out of bed. He always looked that way, and I fantasised that it was my bed he’d just gotten out of. His T-shirt was pushed up to reveal the hard slope of his belly and the inviting path of dark hair that led down from his navel to his cock. The ache in my pussy had me shifting from foot to foot, and in sudden danger of hyperventilating. I wouldn’t have given Mike a second glance if I’d had any indication that The Professor was even slightly interested in me.

  ‘Jesus,’ Mike whispered. ‘He’s so caught up in his work, who’d have thought he even had a sex drive.’ He nudged me again. ‘Go on. Convince him that wanking isn’t his only option.’ He gave me a quick cunt-cupping through my shorts, making me jump. ‘I know you’re wet for him.’

  Mike had been my fuckbuddy since we volunteered to help excavate the Neolithic passage tomb. Though we were both archaeology enthusiasts and both never missed a chance to volunteer, our motives weren’t as pure as The Professor’s. Beside the fact that the dig was on the Cornish Coast, Mike was in it for the chicks, which meant yours truly. As for me, digging up the ancient past has always made me horny. Strange fetish, I know, but different strokes, as they say. It had been The Professor’s impassioned talk at our local archaeology club, complete with Neolithic relics and a multimedia presentation, that had sent me scurrying to the front of the queue to volunteer for what was turning out to be my horniest dig ever.

  Mike was right. It was now or never, and I had a plan.

  I slipped my vest off over my head and handed it to Mike.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ he breathed, staring at my tits.

  I untied the blue bandana from around my neck, slipped from behind the hawthorn thicket where we’d been hiding and moved silently toward The Professor, who was just getting down to serious communion with his cock. My pulse hammered in my throat as I tip-toed a circuitous path until I was directly behind his tree. His grunts and moans assured me he was enjoying himself too much to notice my intrusion.