READING EROTICA

She thought it was funny when he gave her the Best Erotica Anthology that year for Christmas. They started out by reading to each other aloud. But when you have the real thing, they always beat the story to the punchline themselves.

Now it's been sixth months, and they read cover to cover. The book was stashed under the bed and remained. Now she pulls it out when she has a few hours to herself. She reads to her leisure. No need to hurry the end.

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THE LAST LETTER SHE SENT

They'd been long-distance for three months, and the only thing keeping the connection intimate was her laptop. She snapped a picture of herself on the couch, spread out for him. Then she emailed it.


Lots of nights she'd sit on her couch, her laptop propped up beside her. Naked, she'd read his emails, or compose one for him. Sometimes, though, she'd get both bored and lonely; she'd click on one of her favorite porn sites. She'd found one where real couples submitted their photos. If she couldn't have physical satisfaction, at least she could she other people experiencing it. It turned her on, and soon she'd be touching herself at her computer. She joked with him that the long distance would drive her to seek out internet porn. They laughed about it, but she never fully admitted to him the extent of her online exploring.


It wasn't long before she clicked a link to an adult toy retail site. And with a click of a button, she'd placed her first order. She'd never had a toy before. She'd always been far too shy to actually go into one of the seedy adult shops and, frankly, her fingers seemed to do enough. But the months of long-distance, combined with the daily emails, the photos, and surfing amateur sites, had gotten her totally curious. The next thing she knew, a small brown package had arrived.

Of course, the first thing to do was test it out. She locked the door, drew the curtains, and stripped down. She unwrapped her new toy, found some AA batteries, and pulled up her favorite site. She started touching with her fingers, until she was wet and ready. Then with a twist, her new toy hummed in her hand. She touched it to her clit, and it sent shocks of vibrations to the tip of her head. Everything tingled.

It didn't take long at all for her to reach climax. In fact, just holding it against her clit could bring on an orgasm. Shaking and trembling, she set the toy down.

She wondered if she should tell her boyfriend of her new purchase, and her new experience. To test his reaction, she wrote him that she'd gone online and watched a video of a woman playing with a vibrator, and asked if that turned him on. The irony was that as she asked his permission to explore new things, she was already two steps ahead. By the time he wrote back that he was glad she'd found a sexy video of a solo girl, she'd already ordered her second toy.

Again she stripped on her couch. She placed a towel down, lubbed up her toys, and set down for more porn, and more pleasure. She learned that the vibrators with the rattling pearls inside produced the most intense vibrations. She loved to feel this type of her toy on her clit and filling her in the front. She also lerned that her smaller, sleek reddish colored vibrator felt good in her back. She'd discovered this on the couch. Trying to hold on toy on her clit and work one inside of her, it slipped to her lower entrance. To her surprise, the sensation shot direct currents to her clit. The more she pushed the toy against her anus, the more intense the sensation in the front. It was as if currents of electricity connected the toy toys. So she'd sit on her couch, legs propped up on the coffee table. She'd work the red toy in her butt, while pressing the pearl vibrator in the front, as she watched online porn.


Eventually, she told her boyfriend about purchasing her first toy. By then, her collection had grown. So had her Sex Ed, provided by hours of watching online porn. At first she liked the solo girls. She would place herself in the shot, moving her toy as the woman on screen moved hers. She then began watching couples' videos. Shed imagine the guy as her boyfriend, and the woman as herself. She'd get on her knees and use the toy from behind. Or hold it upright and ride it.

At the beginning of the long-distance, her sexy emails would retell some of the experiences she and her boyfriend shared. After those ran their course, she found herself describing scenes she'd watched online. In the emails she'd change the scenes, the places, the names, the details to be specific to her boyfriend and their life in their homestate.

She even got so bold as to send him a self-timer shot of her using her toy in the back. It would either freak him out or turn him on so much he'd beat off to it every day for weeks. She wanted to think of him being turned on by the image, and to get her pleasure from the thought of him getting pleasure from the image. But she was already far passed him and their relationship that seemed fixed in another place, long ago. She was in the city and her job and her live was changing. HE was still back home, hanging out with the same high school buddies, drinking beer, working the same stupid job. She didn't know what he'd think of the image of her with the vibrator up her butt. She was certain it'd shock him.



He'd have no idea, though, that bedtime became her time to bring out her toys. She'd used her larger toys in the back, that she'd use another toy in the front. Or suck on one, while pushing another up her butt. As far as he knew, every story, every private fantasy was about the two of them. She couldn't tell him that he only appeared as a character in her emails to him. In her mind, she was on her back, a man straddling her face, his cock dangling down as she takes it in her mouth. Another man beside her, pushing his hard cock into her anus.



She now had several toys: blue and purple, white, red. Each a different shape and size, and personality. Some had gentle, soft vibrations, and some she could only bear for a few seconds, they seemed to send such strong currents through her. Each one had a texture, a style, a mood. A personality. When she was home, before moving to the city, she imagined she'd only be with her boyfriend. That they'd get married, and be happily every after. When they made love back then, she figured a penis was just a penis. All boys had one, but they were essentially the same. Now, with her toys, she imagined she had a dozen different lovers. Each night would be a new combination. Always, she imagined more than one cock, fucking and sucking at the same time.

Months passed. When they first started dating in high school , all they could talk about was getting out of their small hometown, far away from parents and teachers, and starting an adventure in the city. After graduation, even agreed to start college at the local community college. He argued that core credits were all the same, and it'd be cheaper to live at home and get in-state tuition, and get some credits out of the way before moving.

So she passed up all the other acceptance letters from colleges in the east and a couple in California. And she enrolled at teh local community college. And on fridays they went on dates, to the movies, and bowling, and had sex in his pickup, just the same as any young adults do in any small town USA. It was fine then, even lovely, even fun.

But eventually, she had to move to the city. Had he been an asshole, the choice and a breakup would have been easy. Simple. But you know: life is never easy or simple. He was kind and agreeable and supportive. He wrote her letters regularly. At first, he said he needed to stick around a while to make sure his folks had help on the farm. That he wanted to save up some before joining her in the city. But at last, it had become clear. There would always be something keeping him in their hometown, and she couldn't go back. Letters were fine for a few months, but without any clear end in sight, they could not sustain. She'd grown into a woman he didn't know, with thoughts and desires she could never share.

She had to force the situation to the point of decision. She knew she had to do two things to truly break from the innocence girl she was. She knew in her heart, she had to experience two men at once. She had to make real the fantasy, at least once. And she knew, she could not keep the secret from him.

In life, agony and anxiety often come when a decision is put off. ONce the decision is made, life takes up and moves on its own. Things fall into place. And so it was that she found herself in a hotel room she'd reserved, and two young men about her age, good looking enough, and total strangers who agreed to what she had in mind. And so it was the three were naked, and she riding one, and sucking the other, and then trading. Being filled the front and the back. Being stretched out, sore, sweaty, and satisfied. They fucked her like no toys could. She was dizzy and wanted more and more. She came over and over. They fucked until she had drained every drop of cum they could give her. Semen sloshed in her belly, dripped from her cunt and asshole. Around 4am, they guys left. She slept on the tangled, stained sheets.


The next morning she showered, dressed and checked out. The only evidence she had of her tryst was a self timer shot on her digital camera. Back at her laptop, she debated sending it. Did he really need to see it? Did she really need to tell him everything?

That's when she knew she had really changed. For the first time she felt truly like a woman, and not like someone pretending to be a mature adult. She now new herself like never before. She could give all she had, and still keep herself. She downloaded the image, but did not send it. She took out a piece of paper and pen and wrote an old fashioned letter saying she needed to break up, that it was her, not him. That she'd always care for him, and that she didn't want to hold him back. As she wrote, life became suddenly clear. Somehow she knew in her gut that he'd already found someone else, a local girl with no intent of moving. And rather than send him the shot of her and the other guys in vengeance, she wished him happiness. The answer was simple all along. He was doing what he needed to do. And so, with that, she did what she needed to do. She sealed the letter and set it on the coffee table to be mailed, cutting the final and last strand holding her back.

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CALL OF THE WILD

Linda would never cheat on her husband, but she kept a secret from him. They had a sex life, sort of. The basic, or the minimal. Whatever married couples have after a decade. They still loved each other--it wasn't that. They had done what most married couples have done. They had a drawer of lingerie she pulled out on Valentine's Day and maybe two other times a year. They had a bottle of lube by the bed and a vibrator that helped her get off at the same time as him. Love making was, let's just say, efficient. Something they did that was part of the things they did. Like brushing teeth: nothing bad, but not totally exciting, either.

So in Linda's heart was restlessness, a churning pent up energy. Fingers would not release this energy. Neither would her regular vibrator on her clit. The energy was a swirling mass of yearning she could not satisfy. She puzzled over what to cal it. Finally, she realized, it was lust. Pure lust. It was raw and insatiable. She'd only seen it once, growing up on the farm in Illinois when her dog went into heat. Her dad kept the dog locked up inside the whole time to keep her from running away. And the whole time the dog paced and howled. Something deep inside filled it with desire to fuck. Linda had no conception of it then, but she did now. It was perfectly clear that she was a mammal, too. That humans might be "modernized" today, but underneath the facade of clothes and homes with indoor plumbing, we were still primal beasts.

Linda didn't mean to let the dog out. She was coming home from school (the rural route bus dropping her off at the end of the drive, her walking the quarter mile to the farm house each day). As she opened the door, the dog bolted past her, an explosion of fur and fangs. An animal possessed. She watched it tearing off, across the pasture.

She knew she'd get into trouble. Panicked she spent the rest of the afternoon trying to track down the dog. Eventually, she found her in the old milk barn--replaced by the giant aluminum barn, the wooden one that was used only for hay. Thats where she found the bitch, circled by a pack of mangy mutts, every spotted type of half-feral farm dog. They circled and sniffed, growling, and snapping. Linda tried to shout, to shoo them away. But they paid her no attention. And Linda was scared, and fascinated at the same time.

One of the dogs lunged and snatched the bitch by the back of the neck, pinning her down. The bitch yelped, but seemed to yield at the same time. Then it began. Linda watched in horror and adolescent curiosity as the alpha dog mounted the bitch. She watched the whole thing, each dog taking a turn in descending rank. She looked into her dog's eyes, and saw that she wasn't in pain, but was glazed over, lost, surrendered to what must be pure biology, the built-in nature of survival.

Linda later went to college and there met her husband and got married and learned about sex the human way. It seemed so tame, so polite. Full of manners and permissions. They bought sex How-To books when the passion began to wane. Those only talked more about sharing feelings and creating safe space... what the hell, thought Linda. She didn't want sex to always be safe, or gentle. She wanted it rough, savage, strong. The closest she could find was watching porn.

In porn, she loved the way the woman grunted and begged, demanded to be fucked, and how the big, stupid stalion-like men with horse-dongs fucked. No one asked permission, no one shared feelings: the men pulled out their cocks and the women spread.


Linda loved the pornos with one woman and several men. Whenever she felt herself in "heat," she'd rent one and watch it while her husband was at work. At the porn store, she'd also purchased I giant rubber dong. She loved it. It was thick, as big as a horse, she said to herself. It had a suction cup base, and she could stick it to the glass of the TV set. It dangled at her face as she watched a woman sucking off a circle of men. She sucked the rubber dong, imagining herself the woman, hungrily gobbling every erection shoved in her face. A cock in her mouth, and one in her hand, and other men, strangers, standing by, stoking their meat, getting ready for their turn. Beta dogs. They would have their turn.

In porno, after cock sucking, the fucking starts, and that's when she would move to the bed, stick the dong on the headboad, and back up to it like a dog. She pushed back as it seemed to push in. It felt so good, and she'd work it in and out and she watched the porno. She liked to turn the volume way up, so she could hear the slapping of flesh and the moans of the ravaged woman echoing off the walls.



She wanted to be filled, fully. She started with a finger, getting her relaxed, ready, then it was time. She let the dong pop out of her soaked vagina and reached for her vibrator. She worked it into her ass, and began to pump, feeling the first sensations of being filled in the back, being taken the way she wanted to be taken.



After the vibrator, she returned to the dangling dong, ready to take her. She positioned it at the small pucker of her anus. It was difficult to get started. The soft semi-erect rubber would bend, and then pop out. But once she got it going, she almost fainted. It stretched her wide as she could go. It was pain and ecstasy. Every move shot pain through her body, and yet it was a rush. She felt like she was being ripped apart. She felt like she was being totally taken.

At that point she was not herself anymore, but a swirling, seething vision of an animal in heat, being fucked by other animals. She was the dog in the barn she was the mare and the stallions at her farm. She was the woman in the porn. She was not an individual but a body, a female of a species getting mounted. The sounds from the TV set were matched by her own screams as she exploded and shook in powerful orgasm.


She would repeat as many times as she could stand. She'd nap on sheets smeared with lube and smelling of butt sex. By 4, she'd clean up. Her anus sore, bleeding slightly. Her knees wobbly, thigh muscles shaky. She felt spent. The ball of lust inside her had been drained, for now.

She put on fresh clothes, human clothes. Returned the video, stashed the dildo in her hiding place, and started dinner for her husband.

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