Moments: Private Lives

Mel kisses Lena's fingers. "You're getting the biggest cuddle of your life tonight, love," she promises, reaching for the shower dial on the wall. "I'm gonna spoon you senseless."

Lena suddenly reaches out to stop Mel from turning the shower on. "Wait, Mellie. Don't run it yet."

Mel frowns, surprised. "Why not? Don't I smell of pee?"

"Yeah," Lena giggles. "But I want to do something for you first."

She goes slowly to her knees on the shower floor, apparently heedless of the pool of her own urine that is draining away around Mel's bare feet. She places her hands on Mel's thighs, massaging them lightly. Her head dips forward towards Mel's dark bush.

"Oh," Mel says, her heart racing and her pussy pulsing with joy as she realises her girlfriend's intent. "Oh, Lena, you little angel."

The first touch of a warm tongue on her clit sends warm pleasure curling through Mel's loins. The licks and kisses come slow and wet and deliciously soft, leaving her weak-kneed and quivering. Her rising moans echo off the bathroom tiles. She closes her eyes, puts one hand lovingly atop Lena's head, and loses herself in the moment.

*******

II: JAMIE & TAMARA -- True Friendship

Tamara lounges on her living room sofa, gently stoned and comfortably nude. She has the TV remote in one hand and the end of a large cold drink in the other. One of her legs dangles off the edge of the sofa, idly swinging back and forth. Her apartment is on the top floor of the building, looking out on a green swathe of suburban parkland, so she has no issue keeping the curtains open even when she's naked. Warm noonday sunshine illuminates her pale, freckled skin, her waves of curly ginger hair, the reddish-gold fuzz of her pubes.

She swirls the last of her drink in its glass, chilled tropical fruice juice mixed with a strong dose of flavoured vodka. Between the alcohol and the joint she smoked half an hour ago, she has a mild but pleasant headbuzz. Drinking so early on a Saturday is a bad habit, she knows, but she's too comfortable to care.

It's crunch time at her job at an uptown design agency right now. They have a major new client who is as demanding as they come, with a totally unrealistic sense of timescales and a habit of requesting major revisions at the last minute. She worked her ass off all week, putting in hours of overtime that she knows will barely be recognised, let alone rewarded. By Friday night she felt so drained and demoralised she was seriously thinking of handing in her notice. But the money is good, and her rent in this nice neighbourhood is punishingly steep, so she knows she will just have to endure.

Tammy has her coping mechanisms for times like these. The first is to clear her schedule for the weekend, making time for nothing but total relaxation. Clothes off, ass on the sofa, feet up on the footstool, binge-watching her favourite series on repeat until they become little more than background noise. Plentiful booze, some good weed and a steady supply of snacks to complete the effect. She calls these her Lazy Bitch Weekends. They have helped keep her sane through most of her working life.

Her second coping mechanism is to invite Jamie over. He's arguably her best friend, a stalwart drinking buddy who is as happy to slob out in front of trash TV as she is. He also happens to be a seriously good fuck. Their friendship has some pretty extensive benefits. They aren't exclusive, they agreed that soon after they met, but they bang each other far more often than they bang anyone else.

Jamie is a gratifyingly reliable man. He drove right round to her apartment as soon as she texted him after breakfast. It was not the most eloquent text. Four words: [come over. bring dick.]

He brought it, alright. Tammy almost squirms at the memory of the deliciously sloppy late-morning fuck they enjoyed. Her moans must have been audible half a mile away as orgasm followed orgasm. Her bed was left painted with a long streak of her squirted juices, and her pussy richly anointed with Jamie's come. She was dripping his warm seed down her thighs with every step afterwards. She knows there's plenty more of it still inside her.

They've been lazing about together for the past hour or so. A bit of light fooling around, wandering fingers and kisses in naughty places, but no more full sex as yet -- Tammy wants to pace herself for the hours ahead. Jamie's in the kitchen behind her right now. She can hear him rustling through the cupboards, maybe fixing himself a sandwich or something. She thinks about asking him for some coffee as she flicks through the streaming options on the TV.

She is trying to decide which pure-trash reality show she wants on in the background today when two hands descend suddenly onto her shoulders from behind, making her start with surprise. The fingers dig into her bare skin, firmly but not hard enough to hurt. They begin to knead her flesh, the thumbs circling her shoulderblades, pressing down at just the right points, with a perfectly judicious use of force. Tammy closes her eyes and groans in satisfaction. Jamie always gives the best massages.

"Oh, Jay, that's lovely. A little bit lower," she murmurs, and he complies in silence. Bit by bit, he works the tiredness and tension out of her back and shoulders. She hums and sighs contentedly, shifting forward slightly to expose more of her back to this splendid treatment. Jamie's hands are rather coarse and calloused -- he loves rock-climbing, a sport which is Tammy's personal idea of hell -- but deft and comfortingly gentle. She can smell the light vetiver and cedarwood notes of his cologne. She's noticed he always smells great, even after sweaty sex. Few of her previous lovers could say the same.

Tammy is deep in a world of relaxation, so comfortable that she's on the verge of dozing off, when Jamie abruptly stops massaging her and instead reaches around to cup her bare breasts. His quick, crude grasp, so much rougher than he was being just seconds before, makes her squeal and laugh in shock.

"Jamie!"

"You can't put those big fat titties out there all day and expect me to keep my hands off them," Jamie says from overhead, giving them another mischievous squeeze. He jiggles them in his hands, obviously in no rush to let them go.

Tammy is not the biggest fan of her own body -- she often wishes she could be a gym babe, with ripped abs and triathlete thighs, instead of the soft and curvy girl that she is -- but she does love her tits. They're huge and conical and milky white, generously freckled, with delicate pastel-pink nipples. They have been her lifelong ticket to so much dick (and occasionally some pussy, too). She loves how people stare when she wears tight tops, how easy it is to get guys drooling. Her high school nickname was Big Tits Tammy, and she wore the name with pride.

"You're such a pig," she says huffily. Of course, she loves it when Jamie manhandles her like this, and she knows he knows that.

"Oink, oink," Jamie replies. He kneads her breasts playfully with each 'oink' before finally releasing them.

Tammy tilts her head back until she is looking straight up at her fuck-buddy. Jamie is leaning over her with a rascally smile, shirtless in his grey sweatpants. He is a very cute boy, an ageless twenty-four with short dark hair styled in a deliberately messy cut and a slight fuzz of beard on his chin and cheeks. He is fairly tall, a little over six feet, and in excellent shape, his chest and arms muscular and well-defined. Tammy has been with more conventionally handsome men -- she even fucked an honest-to-God underwear model once -- but so often the really chiselled guys also turned out to be ludicrously shallow and vain. Jamie's laid-back look is much more attractive to her.

"I'm not sure what to watch. Any suggestions?" she asks him. Her drowsy buzz is fast giving way to a tingle of sexual excitement.

"Put on a porno."

"I don't watch porno in broad daylight like you do, perv."

"What's with all the insults today? You're the one who invited me over."

"I invited you for one purpose. You've fulfilled that purpose. So you can go now." Setting down her now-empty glass on the coffee table, Tammy waves in the direction of the apartment door.

"I can't believe I drove through midtown traffic at ten a.m. just for this abuse."

"No, Jay, you drove through midtown traffic for this," Tammy reminds him, spreading her legs wide so that her hairy pussy is fully on display. She sees Jamie stare at it, the lust rising in his eyes, and feels a frisson of slutty pride. It turns her on to turn him on.

"Oh, yeah. That reminds me," Jamie says, stepping back away from the sofa so he is out of Tammy's line of sight. She hears him pad around behind her. There is a quiet rustle of fabric.

She twists her head to ask what he's doing, and is greeted by the answer. Jamie has pulled his sweatpants midway down his thighs. His big dick hangs out, swaying breezily as he turns towards her, as if waving her hello.

Tammy has slept with dozens upon dozens of men in her twenty-nine years of life. She's sampled penises of all sizes. Small ones that sometimes brought her surprising amounts of pleasure. Average ones whose owners wielded them with varying levels of ability, from the delightfully talented to the absolutely hopeless. And a couple of truly huge ones, which left her sore for days afterwards even as they gave her world-spinning, bed-soaking, screaming-bloody-murder orgasms.

Jamie's cock is what Tammy would call almost perfect. It's a lovely size, big but not monstrous, girthy enough to make a great handful and a delicious mouthful, with a thick round head and a meaty foreskin that she loves to twiddle with her tongue when she sucks him off. His thrusts always fill her pussy so nicely, and with such easy, confident skill. Tammy has lost count of how many orgasms she's enjoyed on that long dick.

She can see he's got the beginnings of an erection as he dangles his penis in her face. She remembers how glorious that hard rod felt jammed up inside her that morning. She's getting sopping wet again, knowing that she'll soon be feeling it again.

Jamie gives Tammy an expectant look. He doesn't need to say a word. She opens her mouth wide and welcomes his cock into it. He stiffens rapidly as she bobs her head back and forth, sucking happily on his smooth length. Her tongue curls up to lick the girthy head and play with the foreskin's retracting folds. She cups his heavy balls and caresses them with her palm. Once he's fully erect, almost too big for her mouth, she obligingly releases him, kisses the salty pre-come from his dripping tip, and waits for him to make further use of her.

It's one of the unofficial rules of their friendship (or relationship, or liaison, or whatever it is -- Tammy's never entirely sure how to describe it). If the two of them are alone, no prying eyes or inconvenient visitors to catch them, Jamie can take her whenever and however he likes, no questions asked. There's limits, of course; she doesn't let him fuck her during mealtimes, or while she's on the phone to her mother. But if she's just relaxing in the apartment, she's happy to be surprised by her fuck-buddy. She usually goes naked at home in the warmer months, and her legs are never shut for him.

She might be reading a book and suddenly feel Jamie's fingers stroke her naked thigh, a teasing precursor to his warm tongue lapping at her cunt. Or she might be woken up in the morning by the first eager thrust of his fat cock inside her. Showering with him is especially hazardous. Every time they step into the cubicle together, she knows it's only a matter of minutes before she'll be bent over, fucked hard up against the tiles, and then prodigiously pissed on as a finale. Though they only started doing piss play quite recently, it's already become a regular thing for them. Tammy's had guys urinate on her before; her ex Brandon loved giving her golden showers. She once even let another girl piss on her tits as a (very drunken) dare. But she's never enjoyed it as much as when Jamie does it.

The free use arrangement goes both ways, of course. If Tammy finds herself craving some dick at the crack of dawn, she can straddle Jamie's morning wood and ride him awake. She can push his face into her wet pussy and get him to eat her out on the sofa. Or just walk up to him, butt naked, and bluntly demand that he fuck her brains out on the living room floor. Some of the best sex they've had together has been initiated like that.

Tammy thinks it's time for some more.

Digging her shoulderblades back into the cushions, she lifts her hips up off the sofa, groaning a little at the effort as she offers her bare cunt to her fuck-buddy. Her core strength is barely up to the task; she is not much of an athlete. She has never really needed to be one. Jamie's strong enough for the both of them.

Jamie laughs as he watches her raise her plump, ginger-furred pussy up for him. His cock gleams with her saliva. "You really are a complete slut, aren't you, Tam? I let you suck my dick thirty seconds, and now look how badly you want it in you. You're such a cockhound."

"You made me this way," she replies. Arousal makes her voice weak and breathy. Her heart pumps fiercely with anticipation. Her pussy is so wet she knows she must be dripping her juices onto the sofa. She wants desperately to be taken, filled up, used the way only he can use her.

"You were always this way." Jamie steps out of his sweatpants and leans his knees forward to rest them on the edge of the sofa, between Tammy's open legs. The tip of his stiff cock ends up so close to her cunt she could stroke it just by rolling her hips. "I should tell your mom her daughter's an easy little whore."

"She's known that for years," Tammy replies glibly. She's not in the mood for Jamie's banter. She just wants to feel his dick inside her. "If I'm such a whore, why aren't you in me already?"

She expects him to press forward on top of her for an easy missionary fuck, or maybe roll her over and take her from behind. Instead, he settles into a half-kneeling stance between her legs, bracing himself on the sofa as he holds her thighs in an incredibly strong grip. Her parted legs are lifted up into the air, leaving her trying to keep her torso upraised with her elbows. Even with Jamie supporting her legs, the physical strain makes her tremble. She guesses he's tried this position before with a much fitter girl, some gym bunny with abs like contoured steel. But the prospect of getting fucked raw like this keeps her going, unlocking a reserve of strength she didn't know she had.

"Fuck me, Jay," she begs, quivering with effort, aching with want.

Jamie doesn't say anything. With a smooth, practised ease, he lines his erection up with her needy pussy and thrusts.

Tammy utters a broken, elongated moan as she feels Jamie slide into her. His thick cock sets off a tingling cascade of pleasure in the soft walls of her pussy, growing more intense with every inch deeper it slithers into her dripping warmth. He goes in slow and easy, taking his time. His expression, as he looks down upon her contorted body, is calm; almost detached. The look of a man totally in control of his woman.

He doesn't fuck her; he uses her, holding onto her legs and slowly and steadily working her cunt with his rock-hard length, while her feet dangle helplessly in the air. She can't do anything but squeal and swear and let him fill her up. Her wet pussy slurps and squishes around his fat dick with every thrust. Her warm juices dribble down the incline of her upraised belly.

"Oh, fuck, Jay, yesss," Tammy hisses. Her eyes roll upward, making the room blur. Her tits bounce and quiver, pale nipples describing wide circles. "That's so fucking good. Harder, fuck me harder..."

Jamie starts to vary his rhythm, getting faster one moment, slowing down the next. He goes deeper and deeper into her each time. His hard pumps shove her small body down into the sofa and her legs shake in his iron grip. His balls swing and slap against her soft white ass. Embroiled in a fog of rising pleasure, Tammy can barely hold her angled position. Her cries become louder and swearier. Perversely, she hopes her neighbours are listening.

"Yes, yes, oh, fuck, Jamie...fuck me, fuck your little whore, knock me up...oh my fucking God, yes..."

"Tammy, shut the fuck up," Jamie laughs, but he doesn't stop doing the thing that is making her so noisy. He gets faster, and rougher. Tammy tries to apologise, only to find that all she can do is moan even louder as Jamie's cock hammers into her.

"Oh, God...Jamie-"

Just as the cry leaves Tammy's lips, Jamie grunts harshly, his head tilting back, his teeth showing. His next thrust crashes into her with savage force as he climaxes inside her. He lets his first few spurts fill her pussy before smoothly pulling out, releasing her suspended legs as he does so. She flumps down onto the cushions, gasping her surprise. Jamie pumps his pulsing cock in one closed fist as he paints Tammy with powerful jets of semen. It sprays in creamy white arcs over her belly and breasts, splattering her pale skin. She groans in both delight and frustration. She was so very close to orgasm.

As she always does in the moments immediately after sex, Tammy lies back and basks in the melange of sensations that wash through her body. Her heart thunders in her chest and her muscles ache from holding herself up in that suspended position. Her thighs throb with dull pain where Jamie was gripping them; the bruises will surely start to appear soon. Trickles of warm come leak thickly out of her ravished pussy, and more of it oozes down her heaving breasts. She risks a glance up at Jamie's standing form.

He is aiming his slackening penis directly at her. His head is tilted to one side, his eyes squinting slightly, as though he is judging his aim.

"Jamie, not on the sofa," Tammy protests futilely, her dismay mingled with shameful excitement. She knows exactly what is about to happen. She's going to be degraded again.

Without saying a word, Jamie pisses on her used cunt. His strong, thick stream soaks her flame-red pubic hair and mingles with the glaze of semen that coats her pussy lips. Urine flows down her inner thighs and wets the cushions beneath her as he sprays her, relieving himself on her as casually as if he were using a public urinal. Which, to him, is exactly what she is.

Tammy can't help but whimper at the heat of Jamie's piss flowing over her sex. He kindly aims it directly at her protruding clit, caressing it with a warm flow that sends a tiny shudder of delight through her exhausted body. Her heart fills with a deep appreciation for her friend. Even when he degrades her, he still cares about giving her pleasure.

"Wow, you really like this," Jamie remarks. He pisses higher, his urine mixing with the glaze of come on Tammy's soft white belly.

"Ohhh, fuck yeah," Tammy groans. "Piss all over me, Jay." The warm liquid sheeting down her torso and running off her sides evokes a tide of nameless emotions, all of them profoundly slutty. She can feel urine soaking into the sofa underneath her. She'll have to change the cushion covers afterwards. That's a problem for Normal Tammy to deal with; right now, Whore Tammy is running the show.

"Want me to piss on those titties?"

"God, yes," she pants, sitting up and pushing her chest out enthusiastically. Jamie's golden stream hits one nipple, dances around it, then slashes sideways to soak the other. Piss cascades over the heavy swell of Tammy's freckled breasts. She can't help it -- both her hands go frantically down to her piss-soaked, come-splattered vulva. She was already seconds from coming when the fuck ended; it won't take much now to finish the job. Her curled fingers find her pussy, her thumb finds her clit, and she plays with herself with a sudden urgent energy that cuts through her tiredness. Urine runs warmly around her probing fingers.