Wine Bottle

I'm a petite woman, so most guys are bigger and stronger than me.      I like even bigger and stronger than that.

He was a college athlete.  I couldn't tell which sport, but I recognized the insignia and I recognized the muscles and quiet intensity.  I followed him around the store for a while, hoping he would notice me.  He was part African-American, part something, all exotic power.  I wanted him to see me.  And take me.  I didn't care how exactly, just so long as it was hard and ended up with him splattering goo in me or on me.

He ended up in the wine section of the store, and he grabbed a bottle of Merlot without even looking at the label.  A few more steps, and suddenly I saw why he was ignoring me.

The girl was gorgeous.  A college coed, I thought, dressed in a navy  blue top and skirt that flowed together to look like a two-piece dress.  She wore matching sandle pumps.  She was blonde and blue eyes, and a natural beauty.  One of those soft, pretty girls, whose eyelashes seem naturally thick and dark and whose lips seem naturally moist and magenta.

I think I'm prettier than her, but I couldn't blame him for being so focussed on her he wasn't looking around for a better option.

She latched onto his arm and he led her to a store room.  I followed, hiding behind a pile of boxes and rubbing my nipples through my shirt while I watched them kiss and grope another.  As their kiss becaame wet and heavy and the smell of her arousal drifted through the air, the opened the wine with a corkscrew in her purse and began drinking.  Sloshing gulps straight from the bottle.

Every time he drank, he looked down her top at her tits.

Every time she drank, she rolled her tongue around the bottle neck and gave the mouth a little head.

Every time either of the drink, I pinched one of my nipples. The left was hers.  The right was his.

When the bottle was empty, he unzipped.  His member was already getting firm, and a few touches from her pretty hands and a few quick brushes of her soft lips, and he was fully hard.  He was thick and strong, and she worshipped his cock as I might have in her position.

Her eyes locked on his as she got on all fours and slurped and sucked, bobbing her head and swaying her body and arched back.  She was there for one thing and one thing only.  To make her man's cock explode.  He grunted and groaned with pleasure, maintaining the eye contact as best he good, but sometimes he threw his head back when her tongue worked some extra special magic.

She was a pretty, perfectly sexual creature, and I wanted a piece of her too.  I crept up behind her.  He saw me and didn't say a word.

When I reached up under her skirt to massage her hips, she gasped and looked back at me.

Her man grunted and poked at her eyes with his cock.  "Let her do what she wants, girl."

She licked her lips, clearly uncomfortable with my presence, but fully obedient to her man.  Opening her mouth wide, she slide him down her tongue, deep in her throat and fucked him hard with her face.  As she did, I pulled down her panties.

Her thighs and ass were glorious, and I tasted with them with delight.  Her pussy lips were soft and inviting, and I sucked and nibbled on them from behind, too.  When my tongue penetrated her, she cried out and began humping back against me.  Her wetness trickled down her legs.

With a swear of satisfaction, her man pulled out of her mouth and stroked himself to completion all over her pretty face.  She looked back at me, cum dripping all over and begged me not to stop.

Thinking quickly, I rolled her to her back, mounted her waist and began licking and sucking his cum from her face.  As the nasty cleanup turned into a pornographic kiss, I grabbed the wine bottle with my right hand, reached behind me, and shoved it up her cunt.

Her man called us both cunts, sluts, bitches, whores, everything he could think off, as he jacked his cock watching.  The girl bucked and squealed under me, sucking on my tongue and biting my lips as I savaged her tight pussy with the wine bottle.

I started begging her to cum.  Her man joined in.  When she did, she screamed and I applied the right sort of pressure to her to force her to spray squirt.  The bottle captured just a bit of that, and I proceeded to drink it as I lay on my back and looked at her man, as if to say, "My turn, and I don't want it in my mouth."

All photographs are of strangers, taken in public places, and all fantasies in relation to those photographes are just that: fantasies. No real sex act or encounter is being described and the stranger in the photo inspired the fantasy but is no way tied to the fantasy itself. Unless otherwise specificed, the photos were taken by Sarah, and the fantasies inspired by them were written by her. If you see your image on this site and would like it to be removed, please leave a message and we will gladly comply.