Free Women in Lust by Rachel Kramer Bussel

together.
    She could feel the pressure rising within her. The hurting was so good and suddenly too much.
    He grabbed her hips; his calloused fingers pressed into her heated flesh. He brought her down until he was balls deep inside her. He thrust deep one last time and her orgasm burst open. Her whole body shuddered with pure pleasure. She heard his shout echo throughout the room.
    They collapsed into each other’s arms. He buried his face between her breasts; her head rested on top of his. They clung together as the aftermath of their passion rumbled inside them. Her hands were around his torso, his around her waist. Delicious shivers danced on their skin.
    She felt a gentle tug at her breast. She sat back against his thighs, but tightened the lips of her vagina to keep him inside her. Their eyes and then their mouths met.
    “I love the service here.” His voice was husky from their shared passion. “I’ll have to come more often.”
    “You will,” she promised.
    Their laughter was soft and intimate and just the beginning, for they had all night to explore each other and the many surfaces of the diner. She was looking forward to riding her cowboy into the sunrise.

QUEEN OF SHEBA
    Jen Cross
    Y ou really wanna know about the best time? Well, there was this one guy, back when I was in school. But you have to promise you won’t tell Max. Okay?
    At first, I thought Jimmy was just really into foreplay. He’d say, “Can I touch you?” And before I was done nodding, he’d have reached out a calloused hand to my body, maybe resting it on one of my thighs or against my belly for a second, but he was always only interested in my pussy. His eyes would glaze a little, he’d moisten his lips and get focused like a cat.
    When Jimmy really got going, my pussy would feel like it was molten, you know? All melty and hot, like—well, I’m getting ahead of myself here.
    Jimmy, with that mouth and tongue, those lips. He’d push up every single pillow behind me and set me back against them, prop my feet up and over to either side of my mussed single bed. After he’d sort of enthroned me, got my butt and hips propped up and thighs splayed, he’d just sit back for a minute
and look at me, those ruddy cheeks flushing and his eyes bright and almost—if it weren’t for the cocky set to his jaw, the way his grin pulled a little too tight to one side of his mouth so you’d never be sure he wasn’t about to crack up— almost reverent.
    He never did, though—never cracked up, never laughed at me. He just liked to keep me perched on that edge of nerves. But really, maybe I just couldn’t read him, after all those months, and there was something else altogether going on behind those eyes and that half-cracked grin.
     
    I can’t even remember exactly when or how we met. We were both scholarship students at a school full of kids whose parents had been planning for their darling Jacks’ and Janes’ educations since the moment of conception. I do remember him coming to meet a study partner of mine who was in one of the huge survey classes I was drowning in. I’ll never know what it was he saw in me and we never were much for talking, but a few nights later, Jimmy showed up at my door with pizza and a couple of Dr. Peppers and a small bundle of flowers that he’d picked on his way over, snatching them from one of the university’s landscaped gardens. I was charmed—and a pretty horny and somewhat easy lay. Thank goodness.
     
    He’d look at me for so long that I’d start to cover myself sometimes—the staring was so unusual and here I was, a girl who hadn’t been much for nudity, even if no one else was around. In high school, I’d been one of those girls dressing in the bathroom stalls for gym for the first two years, till my friend Jackson, you remember him, pointed out one day that I had bigger tits than most of the girls in my class, and that if anyone said anything it’d be out of pure jealousy. I didn’t exactly