Sarah the Libertine - Pt. 01

Sarah the Libertine

© Bad Hobbit 2019-2024

Chapter 1. One of each

Author's note: Around 15 years ago, I published a story on Literotica called "Sarah's Commando Adventure". A lady called Sarah contacted me to say that it sounded a lot like her, and regaled me with some of her adventures. We compared experiences, but she seemed to have done rather more extreme things than me, and I thought I was sexually adventurous. Anyway, sometime later, I withdrew from Literotica for a few years - life kinda got in the way - and I lost touch with Sarah. When I tried to make contact again, it seemed that she'd changed her email address. I'd always promised to write up some of her adventures and publish them on Literotica; I started this about 5 years ago and have only just returned to it. So this is my belated first attempt; half based directly on what she told me, half completely imagined.

Sarah, if you're still out there and following me, please get in touch - I still have the same email address - and help me write the next part. But if you're not Sarah and you like stories about sexy ladies doing outrageous things, please read on.

*******

I had a rather weird dream last night. I was at a meeting of "Nymphomaniacs Anonymous", and I got up to say "Hi, my name is Sarah, and I'm a slut. I've fucked twelve times since our last meeting - nine guys and three girls. And now I'm horny as fuck again." I spread my legs - I think I was wearing some sort of wrap-over dress that just fell off, and I was of course naked underneath - and started stroking my pussy. And then I was on my back, and a girl was riding my face while a big black guy - no idea where he came from - started fucking me with his enormous cock. And then I woke up.

I've been called a slut, a bitch, a tart, a dyke, a cunt and a whore. Well, I've never been paid for sex, unless you count taking part in a couple of porn movies and receiving a few nice presents from people I've fucked, so technically I'm neither a whore nor a tart, though there have been times when I might have considered whoring as a fun and lucrative way of earning a living. I like cock as much as I like pussy, so I'm not a dyke. I've been quite nasty to a few people - people who either treated me badly or wanted something from me that I didn't want to give them - so yes, maybe once or twice I may have behaved as a bitch. And though I possess a cunt and love to use it - and have it used - I don't think I am one.

So I guess I'll accept slut - though why there's a derogatory word for a girl who enjoys sex but not for a guy who fucks any girl he likes, I don't understand. I prefer the word 'libertine'. I enjoy life; good food, drink, music, theatre, books - all kinds of things that make life special. I have a good degree from a prestigious university. I love my work; I sell financial services, and I travel around the world and make enough money to pay for a lifestyle that many would consider glamorous.

But most of all I love sex. I mean I seriously enjoy sex. I once tried to keep track of the number of sex partners I'd had, but gave up after a couple of orgies and a sex club I visited a few times. The most I've had in a day, outside of orgies or sex clubs, was nine - five guys and four girls - when I was at a festival. The most at one time was - let me see - five; I was riding one cock, had another up my arse, one in my mouth and I was wanking two more off with my hands. Oh, and on another occasion, four girls - one licking my pussy, one sucking each nipple and a fourth riding my face.

The smallest cock I've ever had was around five inches - a sweet, very shy Thai boy - though it mostly went in my mouth and up my arse. And he made me come, though more with his fingers and mouth than with his cock. The biggest was twice that - a big black guy, maybe six feet nine tall and very strong. When he first entered me, I screamed - it felt like he was going to rip me apart. About ten minutes later I was screaming again, but this time with the strongest orgasm I'd ever had from a cock.

I've enjoyed sex with both sexes and even a pre-op transsexual with great tits and a good-sized dick - which was fun. I've been made love to by a romantic and very attractive middle-aged Italian couple, on silk sheets in a Renaissance palazzo, and been fucked up the arse against a wall in a back alley by a very fit guy I'd met in a pub, whose name I never knew. I've fucked on boats, trains, aeroplanes and cars - moving and stationary - as well as on beaches, up against trees (and walls, and windows), on balconies and rooves, in an old-fashioned phone box, sneakily in a crowded room, in a bath, a shower and a hot tub, on rugs, floors and - of course - on beds.

I've tried every position I've been physically able to get into, been tied up, handcuffed, blindfolded, nipple clamped, ball-gagged - and done the same to my partners. I've been spanked and (lightly) flogged and caned - I'm not into that so much - tried erotic asphyxiation (fun but scary) and all manner of toys including, quite frequently, a selection of strap-ons that I've used on both girls and boys. I've worn all sorts of leather and latex, as well as a wardrobe full of lingerie and fetish outfits. I've peed on a couple of guys who wanted it, though receiving either watersports or hardsports never appealed to me, and I've swallowed a few gallons of semen and pussy juices, including making at least three girls squirt into my mouth.

So as you can see, I like sex. A lot. That is I like sex a lot, and I like a lot of sex. My tastes in men and women are wide - as, on many occasions, are my legs.

But I guess you're more interested in my experiences than my preferences. So let me tell you about a few of my more notable ones:

*****

The pub was crowded. There was a major football match on the television, and England was playing some serious rival; probably Germany, I forget who. Carrie and Nick had suggested I meet them there, but frankly, football bores me rigid. Watching twenty-two millionaires prancing around a field, kicking a bit of plastic and trying to get it into an outdoor cupboard is akin to paint drying as far as I'm concerned. Carrie loves it. I think she fancies some of the players, and whenever there's a big match, she's always glued to the box. Nick, I discovered quite early, shares my disdain for 'The Beautiful Game', but because Carrie's his girlfriend and, I assume, there's some good sex in it for him from time to time, he tags along.

I managed to shove my way through the crowd to the bar, in time to see Nick buying a round. "Oh fantastic," I said, raising my voice above the ambient din. "Could you get me a Prosecco, please, Nick, there's a sweetie." He nodded and ordered, bent halfway across the bar so the server could hear him.

"Where's Carrie?" I asked.

"Down the front, of course," he replied, indicating with his thumb. Carrie's just five foot two, so she can stand in front of everyone else and they can still see the screen.

"Give me her drink. I'll take it to her. And see if you can find a table somewhere. I don't want to stand in this crush for too long. Some creep will probably try to grope me." I took Carrie's lager to her, and kissed her on the cheek - she's very cute but seemingly straight; at least, I hadn't managed to get into her knickers at that stage. I handed her the glass and indicated I was going back to find a table. Just then, someone on the England team passed the ball to a teammate near the goal, and I was immediately forgotten in the excitement of a scoring opportunity.

And actually, I'd come out that evening in the hope of finding a scoring opportunity of my own. I worked my way to the opposite side of the room, as far from the big screen and the source of the noise as possible. I spotted Nick, sitting at a table, the chairs on either side of him stacked with coats and bags. Nick made to get up but I shook my head. Instead, I squeezed around the table and sat on his lap.

"Good to see you, babes," I said, kissing his cheek. "Thanks for the drink. How're things?"

"Oh, OK I guess," he said, looking a little downcast. "How about you?"

"Oh, pretty good. New job, more money, travel. Things are looking up. But things not good between you and Carrie?"

"It's OK. She just seems a bit distracted at the moment."

I smiled. Carrie was pretty, but she could be a selfish bitch if she wanted to be. I guessed that she was simply using Nick until someone more to her tastes came along. I liked Nick. Not only was he fit and intelligent, he was also cute, He had big, brown eyes and long, thick hair, a decent physique and a tight little bum. He was also a musician, playing bass guitar in a band.

"Do you have any gigs planned?" I asked.

"Yeah, we had one last week, and another at the King's Head on Friday. Would you like to come along? I don't think Carrie will be going. Arsenal are playing Man U that night, so she'll probably be here."

"It's a bit poor when your girlfriend won't come to your gigs," I said. "I'm surprised you two are still together, given you have so little in common. The sex must be good." I smiled.

Nick shrugged.

"Oh, so not so much, then?"

He shrugged again.

"Nick, you know you can talk to your auntie Sarah about it," I said, looking him in the eye. He returned a weak smile.

I reached down and started to unzip his flies.

"Sarah - what?"

I just smiled. When I'd unzipped him fully, I slipped my hand inside. He was wearing traditional boxers, which made it easier for me to get hold of his cock and pull it out. I squeezed it gently, and as it began to grow, I stroked the shaft and the velvety head.

"Sarah, look..." he said, looking nervously around. But all eyes were on the screen, as England seemed to be two goals down and the fans around us were desperate for their team to score - as I was. While Nick's cock hardened in my hand, I used my other hand to guide his long, musician's fingers under my skirt, urging him to move higher.

Nick's eyes widened when he discovered that, as is usually the case, I wasn't wearing panties. He gave me a quizzical look, but I just nodded, and slowly, tentatively, he started to stroke my pussy. That felt good, and Nick soon overcame his nervousness, moving his fingers in a very skilled and pleasant manner. I was getting wetter by the moment, possibly enhanced by the knowledge that I was in a crowded pub, doing naughty things with a girlfriend's boyfriend.

Meanwhile, I found that Nick seemed to be enjoying it too. When he reached full hardness, it was clear that he was nicely endowed. I toyed with staying as we were, wanking each other off, but - well, if you knew me, you'd realise that I like to be as daring as possible. So I turned around on Nick's lap, put my feet on the floor, spread my legs and slid back, lifting my skirt with my free hand while guiding Nick's cock into place.

As I lowered my wet and welcoming pussy onto Nick's nice, hard cock, he groaned.

"Fuck, Sarah, I..."

"Yes, Nick," I replied, turning my head to look at his stunned expression, "You need to fuck Sarah until she comes. Get your clever finger on my clit, please. That'll help."

"But I don't..."

"You don't need to do anything except thrust a bit if you can. I'm happy to do the work. Oooh!"

Nick's cock was now fully inside me, and it felt fabulous. Not only did he have the girth to give my G-spot some nice sensations, but he also had the length to push past my cervix and hit that special spot right at the end of my cunt. Not many guys have managed that, and it's rather lovely when one does. I thought he must've been wasted on Carrie if she wasn't appreciating his ability to do this.

Slowly at first, I began to bounce on that nice, fat, long cock. Each time he nudged past my cervix and pressed on that sensitive spot, which even Heineken couldn't normally reach, I felt a pre-orgasmic tingle, enhanced by his clever fingers on my clit. And my arousal was enhanced by the fact that this was extremely naughty. Here I was, fucking the boyfriend of one of my BFFs in a crowded pub. We could be caught at any time, and that just made it more exciting, more erotic.

When my head is in the right place, I can come very quickly. Sometimes I like to extend the pleasure, delaying my climax for up to ten minutes if a guy is good and the context is right. If I'm in a hurry and sexed-up, as I was then, and the guy (or girl) knows what they're doing, I can get there in just a minute or two. This was one of the latter occasions. I turned slightly in the saddle and kissed Nick, I felt his thick cock plunge again and again into my depths, rubbing insistently on my G-spot and pounding the very apex of my cunt. His fingers on my clit were doing a sterling job, so I just closed my eyes and let it happen. Less than two minutes after sliding down his impressive pole, I came.

I gritted my teeth so as not to draw attention to us. See, I'm a bit of a moaner during sex. Once or twice I've been a screamer, which is fine if I'm in a bedroom with the windows closed but can be embarrassing if I'm being energetically fucked or licked outdoors or in a barely-private alcove at a party. (It has happened). But Nick seemed to enjoy the pulsing in my cunt, and the way that I then gripped his cock every time he pulled back, making myself even tighter than normal.

"I'm - I'm gonna come!" he moaned in my ear.

"Go ahead. Come inside me."

"But..."

"I'm on the pill. Just do it," I whispered back. And he did. I gripped him hard and felt him throb. Fucking amazing! It even set off a little aftershock inside me.

After about thirty seconds, I lifted off him, grabbed some tissues from my bag and positioned some of them in my slit to catch the semen seeping out of me. I passed a couple to Nick for him to clean up before putting his cock away. Then I kissed him again.

"Look, Nick, I think I'll head off now. Please give my apologies to Carrie; not for fucking you but for leaving early. And if you want a repeat of what we just did, in slightly more comfortable circumstances, I'm always open to suggestions. Very open. I'll maybe see you at your gig?" I grinned at him, kissed him again, collected my things and left.

It's odd but having sex usually makes me want more sex. I'm not normally satisfied after just one fuck or pussy licking; that just seems to whet my appetite - and wet my pussy - for some more action. So I headed to a bar I know. It's not exactly a 'gay bar', but a lot of the people there tend to be LGBTQ or whatever. Sexuality is fluid and, as I was quite fluid between my legs and my pussy had recently been fairly comprehensively fed with a large portion of meat, I thought I might seek out someone who would prefer to eat me rather than feed me.

The bar was crowded, but fortunately, there was no mega-screen football. There was some quite loud music pumping out, but I headed to the bar for another drink. As I was waiting to be served, an intriguing creature appeared alongside me. She was around five feet tall, had blue hair cut short, with at least three rings in each ear and a nose piercing. Her sleeveless t-shirt showed some intricate tattoos down one arm, and I could see the outline of two nipple piercings pressing against her 'distressed' t-shirt and highlighting her small, bra-less breasts. She wore black lipstick, a leather collar around her neck and, looking down, I could see a short skirt, fishnet tights and a pair of Dr Martins. Delicious!

I turned to her and said "Hi, I'm Sarah. I love your look. Can I buy you a drink?"

****

Tiffany looked amazing naked. In addition to the arm tattoo, there was one on her back - a series of Chinese characters - and another of a snake on her hip. I'd hoped that this would either extend across her pussy lips or, like me, she would be sporting a thick bush of pubic hair - preferably blue. (I love a luxuriant bush - I find it very sexy). The hip tattoo stopped short of her pubic area, the snake's forked tongue indicating the direction she hoped other tongues might follow. And, sadly, Tiffany had adopted the modern trend for waxing. But she had left a small inverted triangle pointing straight at her neat little slit. And yes, she'd dyed it blue.

When I say 'naked', she'd left on the collar, which made her look even more raunchy. I'd left her in my bedroom to get undressed while I quickly visited the bathroom to clean up my pussy. I wanted to be licked, and it would've been rude if all this exquisite little creature could taste was Nick's semen.

I'd also taken the opportunity to undress in the bathroom, and when I entered the bedroom, we took a few moments to appraise each other's naked bodies.

"Wow, you're fucking gorgeous," she said. And yes, I'm pretty proud of my body. I use the gym whenever I can, watch my diet and take care of my skin. My breasts are a decent size and firm - I'm a 36D - I have a narrow waist and my legs and bum are in good shape.

But I felt Tiffany was exquisite. Firstly, she was tiny. I'm around five-seven, but she was barely five feet tall and very skinny. In case you're wondering, tattoos and piercings aren't usually my thing, but this girly was sporting them with an air of defiance, while at the same time looking fragile and almost sweet. The overall effect was intoxicating - with her dark eye makeup, black nail varnish (to match her lipstick) and blue pubic arrow, pointing to the place I desperately wanted to go, she looked like some exotic elf, tiny and vulnerable yet full of attitude. And the black leather collar that she still sported further accentuated this slave/warrior dichotomy. She was good enough to eat, and I was famished.

"You're unbelievably sexy," I replied.

And then I pounced. Before the girl knew it, we were on the bed, limbs intertwined and kissing like mad things. Our tongues danced around, now teasing, now licking gently, now urgently and unapologetically fucking each other's mouths.

"God, I love your tits!" she gasped, cupping one of them in her hand and palming the nipple with some skill. Meanwhile, my thigh was pressed up tight against her smooth pussy, and I could feel her wetness on my leg. Her mouth went down and she was sucking on my nipples. This gets me so horny I've sometimes gotten close to coming just from just that. Meanwhile, I was reaching around behind her to finger the back of her pussy and tease her tight little arsehole.

We spent, I guess, a good fifteen minutes just writhing around, grabbing, fingering, licking and sucking anything within reach. She slithered down my body and fastened her mouth on my pussy, licking, sucking and also finger-fucking me quite delightfully. I have a very high tolerance for having my pussy eaten. I've been known to allow people - men and women - to eat me for nearly an hour, which happened once at a sex party when I was tied up, during which time I came, oh, at least seven or eight times - I began to lose count. Of course, during this time I was required to use my own mouth. At least two girls sat on my face and I got mouth-fucked by three cocks, and I'm proud to say I made all of them come, so it was a fair exchange.

But with Tiffany, I wanted to get in on the action, so I scooted around into a sixty-nine, pulling her skinny body on top of mine, and buried my tongue into her juicy valley. She was soon moaning and wriggling as I alternately tongue-fucked her and sucked her sweet little clit. She shrieked when I stuck a well-lubricated finger into her deliciously-tight little cunt, but I held her tightly down on top of me, enjoying the friction as her skinny body pressed on my breasts and particularly my nipples, and energetically fucked her with my finger while licking and sucking her clit and cleft until she gushed juices over my face. Oh, I love a squirter! And then I just lay back as she finger-fucked, licked and sucked my pussy until I came. I didn't squirt, but Tiffany's tongue and fingers did the business and I had a strong, satisfying climax.