Sex Scene Championship Round Nine : Samantha Ann King Vs Jennifer Stevenson

Posted August 9, 2013 by Nix in Uncategorized / 0 Comments

Excerpt One 
Samantha Ann King: Sharing Hailey

Hailey released the button of her jeans. “Of course, we could wait if you want.”

She slid the zipper down, giving them a peek of her blue silk bikini panties. If they knew how wet she was, what would they do? She slid her hand underneath the thin fabric and rubbed the tip of her middle finger around her labia, then dipped it inside her soaked vagina. Her eyes drifted closed, and she bit her bottom lip as the heaviness in her sex grew.

She could come like this…with them watching. Her finger wasn’t long enough to touch her G-spot, wasn’t thick enough to fill her. But the heel of her hand rubbed her clit. And she had their undivided attention. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel their rapt gazes.

She widened her knees and rocked her hips against her hand. Her toes dug into the rug. She cupped her breast then rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger, sending bolts of pleasure to her cunt. So close she was panting, she only heard her heartbeat, her breathing. Only felt the pleasure coiling in her core.

The orgasm crashed over her, pitching her forward, forcing her to abandon her breast and catch herself as her sex clamped around and against the hand she’d used to masturbate. As the strength of the contractions eased, an embarrassed flush crept over her body.

What had she just done?

“Babe,” Mark said, his voice strained. “Look at Tony.”

Why she was so embarrassed? Good God, she’d had sex with both of these men at the same time, been sandwiched between them as they kissed, sucked and licked every inch of her body.

Mark worked his hand between her chin and her neck, giving her no choice but to lift her head. She sat back on her heels.

“Look at what you’ve done to Tony.”

She peered across the room through half-closed eyelids. Tony sat in the chair, a leg draped across the arm. He’d unbuttoned his shirt, so the shadows caressed the dips and mounds of his chest and abdomen. The fingers of one hand were splayed across his heart. His jeans were open, his white boxer briefs bunched down below his smooth balls. He fisted his cock, and as she watched, he stroked and thrust his hips forward. His head had fallen back. His eyes were closed, but his expression was ecstasy.

“Tony,” she croaked through dry lips.

He cracked his eyelids.

“Come here.”

He stood and pushed down his jeans and boxers, then stepped out of them and strode toward her and Mark. He knelt beside her, knees spread, his rigid cock jutting toward her, his shirt hanging open, the tail caressing his thighs.

“I’ll get the lube,” Mark said as he eased away from her. “While I’m gone, I want you to think about me fucking your ass.”

Her anus contracted at the graphic words. A milky white bead of semen leaked out of Tony’s penis.

Excerpt Two 
Jennifer Stevenson : Hinky Brass Bed

(third sex-demon sex scene) 

re-releasing in ebook September 3, 2013

She found herself riding a tall, dark horse in a dark wood, cantering after something light-colored that flitted in and out of sight on the path ahead. There he was. She legged her horse. Wet leaves lashed her face. She hunkered down over her horse’s neck and kicked it into a gallop, barrel-racing around tight corners, doubling back as her prey dodged, then dodged again.

“Criminal! Thief!” she yelled, and her whip came down to block his escape: a naked man, sprinting, his sides heaving and his pale back streaked with rain, splashes of mud, and sweat. He ducked behind a tree and she brought her mount skidding to a halt.

In the sudden silence, she heard the rain stop. Droplets fell from the trees onto her bare head. To keep warm, she slapped her whip against her leg.

“Let me go,” he called from the dark.

“You can’t stay out here.”

“I’m too much trouble,” he called from a closer spot.

“Forget it. I’m not leaving you here.”

“Let me serve you then.” His voice was nearer, though she’d heard no rustling, no footstep.

She set the horse sidling. “Where are you?” The shadows were black on blacker gray.

“You know I can’t leave without you,” he said at her knee, and she lashed down with the whip in surprise.

“Why?” She raised her voice. “Why should you serve me?”

The horse stumbled, then righted itself, and a weight settled behind her on its back. Strong arms wrapped around hers, pinning her close. His voice came in her ear. “Because you are she whom I have awaited.”

A shiver raced down her side, paralyzing her with shock at his nearness. The horse lunged forward and she clutched his arms to keep her balance, and with amazement and tremendous relief she felt the thong of her whip slip around her wrists.

“You ride well,” he said in her ear. They cantered out of the wood onto open ground and bolted up a slope through tall grass shivering silver in the moonlight. “Can you ride on the withers?”

With that he pushed her forward. She clutched at the horse’s mane and drove her weight far down in the stirrups, feeling her bottom rise, feeling exposed, feeling the wind on her bare thighs as he pushed her skirt up to her waist. Then he entered, a lightning rod earthing in her pussy. As the horse loped strongly up the incline, he drove into her with its movement, forcing her to twist the bristly mane in her fists and bend her knees and balance on her stirrups, her every sense focused on rising and falling with its lunging canter.

“Wait, too fast,” she cried, “you go too fast!”

“Sorry,” he muttered, and the wind stopped whipping her ears and the horse’s motion slowed like the last minute of a photo finish instant replay, every stride exquisitely long and powerful and unstoppable and Randy crammed her, rammed her, and withdrew in perfect time with the horse’s thundering hooves and it was as if they fucked the earth with the speed of the wind, ba-da-bup, ba-da-bup, and she knew why she would never resist him. Her body began to release. She remembered not to scream, and knew she had no breath for screaming with, it was too difficult to balance herself and match the horse’s stride and yet give in, let the perfection of this moment flip her high in the air and bring her thumping down on the soft, springing ground on her hands and knees as a sex demon penetrated her from behind with single-minded force. Her knees turned to water, the tendons in her groin gave way, and she slid slowly to lie flat on her face.

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