Mind Caviar


Sage Vivant  operates Custom Erotica Source, the only online resource for tailor-made erotic fiction and illustrations since 1998. Her work appears in more than 30 anthologies, including Best Women's Erotica 04 and 05, the Naughty Stories from A to Z series, Foreign Affairs, Wicked Words 9, Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 3 and 4, and Best S/M Erotica (volume 2). You may listen to her erotic stories in audio format at Playboy Radio XM.

She is the editor of Swing! and Leather, Lace and Lust which Vivant co-edited with M. Christian, along with the forthcoming The Best of Both Worlds: Bisexual Erotica (Haworth 2005). Vivant is the author of 29 Ways to Write Great Erotica, available only at Custom Erotica Source.  Read a review of 29 Ways to Write Great Erotica in this issue of Mind Caviar in The Literate Slut.



 47 Candles
 

One month earlier, he'd asked her to dinner for this evening. 

"I want mine to be the first birthday invitation you get," he said as they stopped to chat between cases at the courthouse. 

She raised an eyebrow, considering him and his suggestion. "I accept on one condition," she grinned. 

"Always a contingency clause. What is it?" 

"If some young stud asks me between now and then, I get to go with him. I only like men half my age, as you know." 

He chuckled and shook his head. "Sally, I'm afraid no-one could ever accuse you of hypocrisy. I always know where I stand with you!" 

"Oh, Gerry! You know how dear you are to me!" Alarm crossed her face with charming authenticity. She obviously hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. She placed a hand on his arm imploringly. 

"I'd love to have dinner with you on my birthday," she smiled, looking directly into his face. They'd both been on their way to a hearing where Sally worked as his court reporter, so there wasn't much time for further discussion. 

He phoned her a couple of days ago to confirm their date. 

"Have I been ousted by some well-hung man-child?" He joked. 

She laughed and told him not only was the date still on, but she was looking forward to it. 

As he drove up to her house, he interpreted the available parking space as a promising omen and pulled in quickly. He almost regretted having to leave it to go to dinner. 

Words eluded him briefly when she opened her door to greet him. He'd seen her dressed up a few times before, and certainly, she always presented a chic, attractive package in arbitration hearings, but this was different. Lit from the interior lights behind her and the moon from above, she was half-apparition, half-woman. 

"Hello," she smiled, enjoying his momentary discomfiture. 

"You look stunning," he finally managed. 

"Thank you," she replied with an endearing mix of confidence and relief. Her coat was on her arm and she didn't invite him in. Just as well, he thought. She looked much too fetching to be alone with. 

"Shall we go?" She asked, stepping out and closing the door behind her. They were on their way to Hawthorne Lane in minutes. 

Over impeccably prepared meals, they shared arbitration gossip and slowly relaxed. He never forgot how delicious she looked but at least by the time dessert menus arrived, he was less obsessed with her appearance. 

They shared an elaborate chocolate concoction when she turned suddenly serious. 

"I just want you to know, Gerry, that I was so touched by your invitation. You're such a good friend to me." 

He picked up his wineglass and she mirrored him. "To being forty-seven. May this be the year you find true love." Glasses clinked. 

"An overrated state of being. Better I should find true lust!" Her eyes sparkled. 

"Well, I've offered…" 

"To find me true lust?" 

"To provide it." 

"No, you want to provide love and lust. Love is complicated and confusing. And all that worry about who's cheating on who! With lust, things are simple. You satisfy a primal urge, affirm your sexuality, and get on with life. Really young men function on that premise and look at them! So full of life and energy! That's what I want, not some stodgy, quiet existence with the same aging guy for years and years." 

He stared at her a moment, absorbing her remark. "Couldn't I just get a blow-job?" 

She laughed so hard she blushed. Finally, she spoke. "That's against your principles, as I recall." 

"Do I have principles?" 

"Oh, stop it. Aren't you the guy who thinks sex should only happen when love is present?" 

"Yes, but thanks to William Jefferson Clinton, there's a brand new definition of sex. I'm willing to consider that new definition. After all, it sets a legal precedent." 

"You're impossible," she laughed. 

"I take it the answer is no, then," he persisted. 

"Eat your chocolate." 

He sighed melodramatically to amuse her but the defeat still stung.
 

+ + +


She invited him in when they returned to her house. Unfortunately, they parked two blocks away. The night was cooler now, windy too, and the couple walked briskly toward her house. 

A moving van sat curbside. When she saw it, she stopped walking and grabbed his arm. 

"Gerry!" She hissed. "Look! A van!" 

He wondered what on earth was in her head. It was just a van, for God's sake. 

"Yes…."

"Haven't you heard stories about burglars who pretend they're moving or making a delivery so they look legit and then they clean you out of everything you own?" She wouldn't move. He happily used her distress as an excuse to put his arm around her. Her firm curves felt even better than they looked. 

"Sal, there's no activity. Probably somebody's going to use the van in the morning." 

"Sure, there's no activity now! They're already in my house, scoping out what they want. Oh, use your cell phone to call the police!" She urged. 

He stroked her arm to soothe her. "Why don't you just let me go in and check things out? The cops won't come with the evidence we've got so far, anyway. Give me your key." 

She hesitated. She didn't want him risking his life for the sake of her possessions. He assured her the risk was minimal and went inside. 

He walked through her house, turning on lights as he went, pausing at her bedroom before moving on. In minutes, he returned to the sidewalk and motioned her inside. 

"You did that awfully quickly. Are you sure there's nobody in there?" 

Holding her hand, he led her through each room until she was convinced they were alone. He poured them each a drink. 

"You see, this is a perfect example of how useful it could be to have a true love around," he commented. 

She took a swig from the glass he proffered. "Uh-huh," she said flatly, collapsing into the corner of her sofa. "But you must admit it's strange that a van should be there at this hour." 

"I think you think too much. I'm sure there's a good explanation." 

"Oh, sure. Give me one." 

"Maybe that's where all your birthday candles are being stored." 

She grabbed a pillow and flung it at him. At least she laughed. 

"Try again," she said. 

"I'm serious," he insisted, taking the cell phone she had insisted he purchase out of his breast pocket. He dialed and then spoke into the phone. 

"OK, it's time for those 47 candles to come out." 

"Very funny. Your evasive tactics may work in the courtroom but not with me!" 

The doorbell rang. Panic consumed her face and she locked gazes with him. 

"Oh, my God! Who could that be?" 

"I'll get it." He moved toward the door. 

She leapt up to stop him, but it was too late. He not only had the door open but was ushering a man inside. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her step back, as each man passed through the threshold. 

"Gerry?!" 

Smiling, he made his way through the crowd of young, handsome men in dark trenchcoats. She looked frightened but gradually noticed how attractive her uninvited guests were. Her face softened. 

"What's going on?" She demanded, grinning. 

"These are the forty-seven candles I was telling you about. And each one of them is half your age: twenty-three and a half. Isn't that right, boys?" 

A resounding cheer rose up en masse. She giggled, guffawed, then reddened. 

"I'm not sure I understand," she ventured. 

"Show her, gentlemen." 

All forty-seven dropped their coats to the floor, revealing a sea of muscled chests and six-pack abs. All of them were naked save for tiny little Speedos that cradled their impressive privates. 

"Are they going to dance for me?" She was still red. 

"They'll do whatever you like. It's your birthday. But I don't think I'd waste their time with music," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "I'm going to let you enjoy your gift in private." He walked out, shutting the door behind him. 

***

He remained on the stairs, debating. Should he go back in and make sure she was safe? Or should he just watch from a window? Neither would be gentlemanly. He headed toward his car, letting his erection lead the way. 

Once in the car, he couldn't bring himself to go home. Instead, he drove the two blocks to Sally's house, praying for parking. There was none. He was suddenly obsessed with the notion of keeping vigil, of knowing exactly when all forty-seven of those raging hard-ons left her house. He sidled up to a driveway across the street and parked there, blocking access. He could always move if somebody needed to come or go. 

He looked at the house longingly. He pulled his zipper down, aware that his list of offenses was growing. First a parking violation for blocking a driveway, and now he was heading into indecent exposure. He didn't care. The thought of Sally with all those studs disrupted his logical mind like some electrical charge, deconstructing his thoughts into monosyllabic noises and primal compulsions. 

One of the men steps toward her, sensing her excitement but needing to quell her anxiety. He leans his face into hers to kiss her. The warmth of his smooth, naked skin dizzies her as his lips nip at hers softly. She likes his aura; his touch is welcoming. She responds by parting her lips and searching for his tongue. The man caresses her neck and kisses her passionately. 

She gets wet almost immediately. The other men undress her gently. She allows it and continues kissing the first man. The zipper of her dress runs down the length of her back. Hands at her shoulders slip the dress over the length of her arms and past her hips until it puddles at her feet. 

Big, strong hands roam over her warm skin. Some of the men comment. 

"Mmmm, nice ass." 

"Oh, yeah, this is gonna be fun." 

"Are you getting wet, baby?" 

She flushes at the attention and moves now to the mouth of another young horndog. Deft fingers unhook her bra. It's off her in seconds and her freed breasts liberate her libido further. Her body gets hotter as many hands grope at her breasts. 

A couple of men stoop a bit to take her nipples into their mouths. She groans as they suck and lick at her. Meanwhile, other hands squeeze and jiggle her breasts. Her head reels with all the attention lavished on her tits! 

But there's more work to be done. Many busy hands at her smooth, shapely thighs unsnap garters from nylon. Palms push the stockings down the length of her legs, running along her calves sensually. 

Several men slip her stockings and shoes off her. She stands there, in the middle of her living room, naked and steamy, making out at random with hungry, anonymous mouths of twenty-three and a half year old men. 

The men peel off their Speedos, not in unison because that would look rehearsed. Rather they do it when it strikes them. All of them closest to Sally strip within seconds of each other. 

Every single cock reads twelve o'clock and is as hard as any other muscle on their bodies. Six or seven men press their enormous, solid cocks against her hips and thighs. There's a cock between her ass cheeks, one at each flank, one tickling her pussy hair. There are more but she's aware of mostly these. 

One of the strapping young bucks suddenly picks her up, like she was his bride. He looks into her eyes with an expression meant to make her swoon with anticipation. It fulfills its promise. 

"Where's your bedroom?" Adonis asks her. 

She instructs him and his forty-six pals to her boudoir, but wonders aloud, "I don't know if there's room for all of you!" 

The men laugh at her naivete and swarm to her room. 

She is placed on her bed, face up. The perfect male specimens surround her, a human fence soon to protect her from absolutely nothing. She watches them with their hard, flat stomachs, chiseled muscles, long, thick cocks raring for pussy. Her pussy! She is suddenly struck by the prospect of accommodating every penis in the room and shuts her eyes to keep her fear from showing. 

Lips touch her arms and legs. Tongues swirl around her nipples. It's an oral orgy. Strong hands grasp her ankles and spread her legs wide open. Fingers frig her swollen clit while others dip into her juicy opening. Still others just spread her cream around. Someone French kisses her just as a tongue slides into her slit. When another tongue flicks at her clit, she squeals but the sound is muffled in the head of her kissing lover. 

She cannot collect her thoughts to count the number of men on her bed administering pleasure to her body. Her pussy has never been so wet. It seems to be working overtime to be sure every man gets enough. 

There are tongues between the folds of her cunt, tongues along the insides of her thighs. Mouths on her tits, sucking, endlessly sucking her nipples. She feels swollen beyond reversal and ready to explode. 

She realizes she needs cock to balance these sensations. Looking about her furtively, she tries to focus on nearby members she can grab. But the search is difficult not only because there are so many moving bodies but also because one cock looks better than the next. She can't choose among them! Finally, she takes hold of those nearest. With one in each hand, she is surprised at her next words. 

"Somebody fuck me!" 

A man with a particularly tight, round butt straddles her face. He guides his big dick into her mouth - she can't assist because her hands are busy pumping cock. The man on her face feeds her his schlong slowly, sliding in and out of her slowly like she needs to get used to the idea. His pace heightens the eroticism of his movements and she writhes impatiently. 

She cannot see past her mouth-fucker but she's aware that there's no longer a finger in her vagina. Instead, a cock of astounding proportions pushes itself so deeply into her dripping snatch that it seems destined to drill a hole right through to her mattress. Despite the cocks in her mouth and pussy, she does not let go of the ones in her hands. 

A new cock replaces the one in her pussy and pumps her hard, shaking the bed. She feels wetter and wonders if each man is coming inside her. She imagines rivers of cum running out of her and instead of concern, she feels only the desire to be fucked again and again. 

Several more pricks make their way up her juicy hole. Her delirium has long since taken over and she doesn't even know if she's conscious. 

Dozens of hands lift her up and turn her on her stomach. Somebody pulls her ass up, bringing her to the doggie position. Hands are all over her body now - her back, her stomach, her legs. Men position themselves under her breasts like hungry farm animals. 

She runs a hand over the perfect stomachs of three men and smiles, unwilling yet to believe so many young, beautiful men are servicing her. 

A raven-haired stud kneels before her and guides her head to his waiting meat. She gobbles him up noisily. The men at her titties increase their noise level, sucking and licking audibly. 

The action between her legs is incredible. Somebody's tongue rims her asshole while her hard clit is expertly fondled. A huge cock rams into her cunt so hard her ass cheeks jiggle. She feels her brain bouncing off the walls, feels her muscles tighten, and then when she cannot contain the onslaught of pleasure anymore, her entire body undulates and heaves with release. 

Cocks explode around the room. Most of them shoot hot cum on her skin in long, thick ropes. Each splat lands in a hot stripe on some random body part. She pictures geysers of cum squirting up into the air; young, vibrant, unrestrained eruptions splattering against walls, lampshades, and bedposts. 

She orgasms over and over, unable to stop. The cock in her sopping wet pussy just keeps pumping and whatever it is at her clit relentless strokes her. Eventually, perhaps when all the men are empty, the fucking and frigging and sucking and licking draw to a close. 

She collapses on her stomach. She tastes the jizz she's swallowed. From how many cocks, she wonders? Cum and pussy juice coat her entire mound and more seeps out of her every moment. Big, strong hands caress her backside and voices urge her to sleep. 

***

Gerry wondered how much longer the forty-seven candles would need to satisfy Sally. What were they doing? What was she doing? How long would it take for forty-seven men to please one woman? Could he stand to wait and find out? 

He had stayed this long; he could stay a little longer. His curiosity consumed him. 

Ten minutes later, her front door opened and every trench-coated god emerged. They returned to the moving van with admirable stealth and speed. But was Sally satisfied? 

His phone rang, jarring him. 

"Gerry," she said dreamily. So, this is what she sounded like freshly-laid. 

"Hi, baby. Did you enjoy your birthday present?" 

"It was sooooo incredible. I may not walk for days!" 

"That's good." 

"But I just want you to know," she drawled into the phone, still oozing sex, "I want to do something nice for you to show my gratitude." 

"You do, do you? What do you want to do?" This was it. This had to be it. 

"I'd like to give you that blowjob," she giggled languidly. 

"Would you like me to come in now?" He purred. 

"No, no, I'm wiped out. But really, Gerry, before you die, I promise to suck you off." 

"Before I die??" 

"Yes, I promise. And thank you again for my candles!" After several clicks and some rustling, the connection was severed. 

He looked at the phone, like people do in the movies. 

"Before I die. Well, viva la Gerry!" He mumbled wryly. 

He pointed his car toward home.  

 

Copyright  ©  2004 Sage Vivant. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or post.


Alt.com FREE kinky personals
Click For Free Membership
free bi gay men personals
FREE Join Friend Finder Personals to find a real partner, a lover, a friend, cyber pal...

Main Page

Food & Fun
Creme de la Creme
Just Desserts!
Bottoms Up!

Columns
The Diaries of Lady M
Champagne Rouge
(sex advice)

Art
Mind Caviar Gallery
Velvet Glove Gallery
Vintage Erotic Gallery
Couples Erotic Gallery

Literature
Features
Fiction
Poetry

Reviews
The Literate Slut
 

Extra
Archives | Links | Staff
Submissions | Email

Mind Caviar's Sister Sites
A Bi-Friendly Place
Ophelia's Muse

Free Sexy Personals
Free Adult Personals
Free Kinky Personals
Free Bi-Gay Personals

Our Favorite Adult Sites
Three Pillows
Retro Raunch
For The Girls

Copyright © 2000-2004 Mind Caviar. All rights reserved. Mind Caviar is a working trademark pending registration.