Confessions

Confessions
Various Various

Nine explicit confessions. Hot original erotica from Justine Elyot, Primula Bond, Chrissie Bentley, Lisette Ashton, and more.Women pursuing secret desires and then confessing all.One woman just has to expose herself to her hot neighbours from her apartment window.A woman’s tennis partner is too tempting to resist in the showers.And when a women’s reading group chooses foreplay as its subject, the revelations lead to the kind of misbehaviour most people only get to read about.

Confessions

Tales of Female Misbehaviour

(http://bit.ly/KqDOG3)

Table of Contents

Title Page (#u8d6ecf67-9b59-57ed-ba36-06d88d072407)

Neighborhood Watch Lolita Lopez (#u24721656-e42e-57e7-8b7d-7564371071f0)

The Shop Lisette Ashton (#u2509f2c4-8208-569e-98ac-3e0909b53f09)

Come In Handy Heather Towne (#u5078625b-7d26-5c00-b046-457c60247e8d)

Hard Copy Elizabeth Coldwell (#litres_trial_promo)

Interview With The Vamp Scarlett Rush (#litres_trial_promo)

The Going Down Chronicles Chrissie Bentley (#litres_trial_promo)

A Big So Long to Innocence Kim Mitchell (#litres_trial_promo)

Mr Flint Primula Bond (#litres_trial_promo)

The Method Justine Elyot (#litres_trial_promo)

Keeping a Promise Jenny Swallows (#litres_trial_promo)

More from Mischief (#litres_trial_promo)

About Mischief (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Neighborhood Watch

Lolita Lopez

The chirping alarm clock on my cell phone interrupted my study time. A frisson of excitement rippled through my belly as I realized it was time. I set aside my textbook and notes and stretched my aching neck. Becoming a petroleum engineer had always been a dream of mine, especially since I’d grown up in the oil and gas booms and busts of West Texas, but the graduate classes had proven grueling and less than exciting at times.

Sometimes I needed to blow off a little steam. Some people went running or had a massage or even teamed up for a no-holds-barred game of paintball. Me? I preferred something a bit more wild and risky. All my life I’d enjoyed the attention of others. Pageants, plays, cheerleading – I’d always found ways to feed that need for all eyes to be on me.

Here in college, I’d discovered new possibilities for my exhibitionist predilections. My poor, Sunday-school-teachin’ mama would have died from a heart attack if she’d discovered what her sweet little baby girl got up to every third Friday of the month, but I just couldn’t stop myself. It was too exhilarating.

So I pushed up off the couch in my apartment’s small living room and headed toward my bedroom. The skimpy outfit I’d chosen greeted me. I rubbed the whisper-soft silk against my cheek. This was one of my simpler pieces, just a halter-top babydoll made of pleated georgette and silk with a matching thong.

I stripped out of my yoga pants and camisole and slipped into the flimsy lingerie. I loved the way the fabric clung to my curves. It made me feel sexy in a classy sort of way. The tiny thong fit snugly between my ass cheeks and cupped my already throbbing clit. Anticipation made my belly wobble uncontrollably. My pussy pulsed with need. Slick wetness seeped from my core. I couldn’t wait to get out on that balcony and masturbate for my small throng of enthusiastic fans.

My fingers found the black elastic band holding my dark hair in a high ponytail. I gave my head a shake and combed my fingers through the waves. Before I left my bedroom, I put on the matching kimono and grabbed the folded towel containing the selection of toys from the end of the bed. I switched off the light in my room and returned to the living area.

From practice runs and comments from my fans, I knew which lights in the living room to leave on and which to snuff out before I made my way to the balcony. Too much light, and I drew unwanted attention. Not enough light, and the show was too dark for the guys and gals in the opposite apartment building to enjoy.

Out on the balcony, I shut the glass door behind me and stood still for a moment, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I cast one quick glance to the balconies opposite mine and noticed the lounging fans. Some were couples, but most were groups of single guys and girls who rented the three- and four-bedroom apartments over there. Our buildings were the last two in the complex and situated just perfectly for my naughty stripteases. We were surrounded by trees and a woodsy area and sheltered from the louder and usually bustling pool, gym and recreational center.

Though I pretended not to notice my viewers, I trembled just as wildly as the first night I’d done this. Back then, it had been an impromptu decision borne out of pure boredom and desperation. A dry spell between boyfriends and the stress of finals had killed my usually raging libido. I’d tried and tried to get my juices flowing again with vibrators and videos and erotica, but nothing had worked.

Then, that fateful night in May, I’d been outside enjoying a beer and the quiet stillness of the night when I’d heard my downstairs neighbors going at it like a pair of horny weasels. There was something so illicitly dirty about listening in to their session of bed-breaking sex. In minutes, I’d been soaking through my panties. My fingers had quickly found the right rhythm and, in no time at all, I was coming so hard.

When I’d finished, I heard the first whistles and applause from the balcony opposite mine. I’d been mortified and felt sure I would die of embarrassment. But then, ever so slowly, I’d experienced the strangest surge of accomplishment and pride. I’d given the guys across the way a nice bow and wave before darting into the house where I’d fallen on to my couch and laughed myself hoarse. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to do it again.

Once a month seemed like the perfect balance to the issue of supply and demand for my balcony peep shows. Anything more and I risked the crowds getting too big and someone sending a nasty note to the complex’s office. Or calling the cops. I enjoyed the limelight, of course, but spending a night in the slammer because I’d been caught rubbing my pussy in public wouldn’t look so great on those résumés I was going to have to send out at some point in the near future.

A flashlight beam clicked on and off twice. I smiled at the silly signal the two original fans from Building F had come up with the second night I’d come out on to the balcony. I picked up the flashlight I kept on the mosaic-topped bistro table and flashed them three times. My fingers pressed play on the iPod stereo system I’d stashed outside earlier. The hiphop playlist I’d chosen spilled out of the speakers. I didn’t want noise complaints, but I needed the thudding pulse of the music to lend just the right vibe to my performance.

I placed the towel on the table with the flashlight and unwrapped the toys hidden inside the plush cotton. My heart leapt at the sight of the nipple clamps, lube and the double-penetrating dildo I’d picked up at the sex shop. It was one of those intimidating rubber toys that I was sure had been modeled after a pair of hung-like-a-horse porn stars.

Playing with it the first time had left me sweating and clutching at my sheets. There was nothing like the overwhelming sensation of being taken in both holes, my body stretched and filled to breaking point. Someday, I promised myself, I was going to play that game in the flesh. For now, the rubber fantasy version would have to do.

Keenly aware of my audience, I shed the kimono ever so slowly and revealed the gorgeous lingerie I’d chosen especially for them. I imagined their eyes lighting up at the sight of the purple georgette against my tan skin. My fingers hooked the silver chain of the nipple clamps and lifted them from the towel.

As if simply enjoying the cool night air, I walked over to the balcony railing and leaned against it. I inhaled deeply, pulling the scent of honeysuckle and cedar into my lungs. My hands skimmed my curves through the thin material, the silver chain jangling as the nipple clamps dangling from my fingers rode the outline of my breasts and belly. I let my other hand slide between my thighs. Already the lacy fabric hugging my pussy was damp with the nectar dripping from my cunt. I teasingly rubbed my clit through the thong. I loved the way the material enhanced the stimulation, lending a sharper sensation to my circling fingers.

Wanting to stay on the edge, I slowly abandoned my pussy and allowed my hands to move up toward my breasts. I cupped the heavy flesh and thumbed my nipples through the silky cloth. My hands dipped behind the fabric and bared my breasts. The cool air and my arousal made the dusky-pink skin tighten to hard pebbles. I sucked my fingers until they were wet before using the slick pads to tweak my nipples.

Trial and error had led to my discovery that I enjoyed the kinkier side of breast play. My sensitive tits responded so well to the sensual torture of clamps, and I just couldn’t get enough of them. I twisted the barrels on the underside of the silver clamps to open the teeth just enough to slide my hard nipples between them. I adjusted the pressure on the clamps until they were just right.

My pussy flooded at the sharp sensation of the clamps squeezing the stiff peaks. The pain took my breath away, made my bare toes curl against the rough stone of the balcony floor. I inhaled shuddery breaths as I grew accustomed to the bite of the clamps. The squeezing sensation traveled from my nipples straight to my swollen clit.

I gave a little tug on the chain and gasped. The pleasure of such piercing discomfort sent my arousal into overdrive. Suddenly, I wasn’t alone on the balcony. The fantasy of being tormented by two lovers swamped the reality of my peep show. My hands were their hands. My twisted, dirty thoughts were theirs.

With the finesse of a dancer, I turned and presented my back to the audience. I took a few steps toward the armless chair near the bistro table. My fingers slid under the skirt of the babydoll and grasped the sides of the thong. Bending over, I made sure to take my time as I peeled the thong down my backside and let it drop to my ankles. My hands glided over the bare cheeks of my ass. I gave each cheek a playful swat before standing tall and kicking aside the thong dangling from my ankles.

I sat on the chair and let my thighs fall apart. The cool night air kissed my blazing hot skin. I cupped my waxed mound and petted the smooth skin. My fingers slipped between the silky, wet lips of my sex. I explored every inch of my pussy. Slippery cream swirled beneath my fingertips. I lifted my hand to my mouth and tasted the salty essence of my cunt.

Moaning, I licked my fingers clean before putting them back on my sex. This time I penetrated my pussy, first with two fingers and then three. I flicked my clit, ramping up my lust as my digits plunged in and out of my tight passage. My fingers slid lower to my anus and circled the rosebud. My breath hitched at the forbidden sensation my fingers evoked.

A quiver of excitement pierced my lower belly. Anal play was one of my newer adventures. It still felt so deliciously dirty to experiment with toys and fingers and cocks up my backside. I figured my rather religious and conservative upbringing contributed to the feelings of extreme naughtiness that accompanied the act. Not that I much cared about the whys of my fascination with anal stimulation. It just felt so fucking good.

I reached for the small tube of lubricant on the towel and squirted a big dollop on my fingers. While I strummed my clit, I prepared myself for the intrusion of the dildos. My fingers worked the snug ring of muscle until it was ready to accept something quite a bit larger.

My heart beat so fast I couldn’t hear anything over the rush of blood pounding against my eardrums. Pussy pulsing, I wrapped my slick fingers around the double dildo. The sex toy felt so heavy in my small hand. Holding it by the suction-cup base, I dragged the thick heads of the fake cocks through my wet pussy. My mouth gaped at the wicked sensation of the dildos sliding up and down and side to side through my cunt. It was too much, and, yet, not enough.