Getting a Piece of Heaven [MFF]

Below is a story I wrote for my partner, including the little personal preamble at the beginning. But I think you'll enjoy it all the same.

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There is no difference between fantasy and fiction. Just a few letters, really. For this reason, I'd like to indulge you with an erotic fiction, and you can read into what you'd like. This is better than me merely telling what I like about those breasts or what I'd like you to do to that 'fantastic' pussy. I want to frame it like this because I think you deserve to be caressed in body and in mind. So treat this conceit like a gentle set of fingers slowly working down your mind’s erogenous nerve. The same nerve that warms you in that perfect piece of heaven between your thighs.

And 'Piece of Heaven' also happens to be the official name of the little private bordello I'd like you to visit now. It's an innocuous little storefront in a quiet corner of whatever city you’d like. But it’s worth noting that the on-paper name of the joint is actually 'The Bronze Salon,' because on paper, it's a tanning salon. But in the alternate universe of discrete clientele, the Bronze Salon is the Piece of Heaven. A dignified, full-figured Madame runs the front desk. Her tits are like the Holy Land and this discrete clientele call her Miss Samantha (always Miss). She’s had a thousand men and probably that many women, but in this little piece of heaven, she’s St. Peter manning the heavenly gates, only instead of ivory the gates are pink and hot with arousal. The same goes for those in her employ. Those sex starved minxes and mares, paid to do what they want, how they want. To push their wet cunts into the open mouths of the happy and starved. To empty their cum on the tits, tummies, and tonsils of the horny and stoned. (It’s a fantasy bordello. Everyone is there because they want to be there.)

And on this particular night, Richard Wellington (Richard because you'll see that it makes for a good entendre, and Wellington because that's the El stop I was at when I came up with the name) came to the Piece of Heaven to watch, initially. When he walked in, Miss Samantha could tell that this was his first foray into heaven’s chambers, so she sized him up: taller than most, shorter than some. Built like he works with his hands. A runner's jawline. A weekender's scruff. Eyes bright and a little sullen, unpretentious. Hair brown and luxurious (the only and best word she could think of), like a young lion (the only and best animal she could think of). His referral spoke of him highly and said that Richard wasn’t interest in much but watching, but even without that little piece of information, Miss Samantha knew what he wanted. She could read it on his face, that sex, for him, was private, cerebral, and dank with desire.

"Anya and Aria," Miss Samantha said. "That's who you'll need."

Richard give her a curious look. She smiled at him and flipped her hair over her shoulder in that way she knew men like him liked. It was an invitation for Richard (or any man) to draw his eyes into the milquetoast fullness of her pinball-machine cleavage. To plant in his mind a fleshy promise. The way men looked at her when she did this excited her, but on this night, something about the thought of Richard running his mind-hands over the purple hardness of her nipples made them perk. (It’s probably because it’s a full moon. Something about the refraction of the sun’s rays off the moon’s face. As the tides swell, so too do the loins.) For a moment, Miss Samantha thought of taking Richard into heaven herself, but she was sated and wanted to please the new first-timer. She took Richard’s smile as a covert thanks for her flirtation.

Richard said, "Anya and Aria.”

"They pick the names. I'm just here for quality assurance." Miss Samantha said, winking. She looked down at her tits, where Richard’s eyes still lingered. "I can tell by how you're looking at me that you like fat tits. Anya and Aria are my museum pieces and they are hot for each other." She pressed a button under the counter.

A side door opened and in walked Anya and Aria, hand in hand. And even if Miss Samantha had read him wrong about his taste in breasts, the sets on Anya and Aria would have hardened up the softest man and warmed the coldest woman. Both wore matching teddies, light blue and silk. The fabric stretched over their swollen tits, barely contained by the matching black lace bras underneath. Anya was dark skinned, with Carribean eyes and thick, glistening lips, full like plums. Her black lace underwear matched her bra and she gave Richard a side view when she noticed he was looking, and her ass was as smooth and flawless as her bosom. Richard, never a violent man, wanted to bite her all over. The elastic of her underwear etched delicate lines into the meat of her ass and promised freedom.

Aria, as full and voluptuous as her partner, had flaming red hair and skin as pale as imported ivory. Her cheeks were flushed with a playful rouge and her eyes, green like ferns, sparkled with mischief. Her breasts were swollen like Anya’s but Richard could spy the darkened crescents of her areolae peaking over the Baroque black lace. She gave Anya a gentle kiss on the cheek and smiled back at Richard, who was already growing hard under his jeans.

"Show Dick to the loft," Miss Samantha said. "The moon is full. Enjoy yourselves."

They led Richard through a door behind the counter and up a staircase lined with red velvet curtains. The symbolism was not lost on Richard, but instead of pontificating, he watched the girls walk up the stairs in front of him, flaunting their derrieres like peacocks. Aria’s panties had an open crotch and Richard spied looks at her bald, picture-perfect pussy, already glimmering with fuck-dew. The thought that the two of them had already been going at it made Richard hot under the collar and he began unbuttoning his shirt as they then led him down a warm, candlelit hallway and into the loft. In it was a giant bed made with clean white sheets. Candles burned in the corners of the room and a string of oversized Christmas hung loosely on the ceiling above the bed. The fullness of the moon shone brightly through the skylights, effervescing its virile glow.

Anya and Aria pointed at a large chair in the corner of the room, where Richard sat. He took off his shirt and sat down in his jeans, unbuttoned with room for his hand to wander into his pants as he saw fit. His chest was taught and hairy in that old school Hollywood kind of way. The girls climbed on the bed and stood facing each other with their arms loosely draped about each other's waists, feeling the softness of the silk between their fingers. They kissed, cast in an idyll light, and looked at Richard. They we're both of them fit, full-figured, and feverishly fertile, hot fucking mavens. A scent of earthen warmth seemed to descend on the room. Their pelvises pressed together, their asses a symmetrical Venn diagram of pure gynic eroticism. Their breasts pressed together, begging to be released and caressed with hands and mouths.

"You are goddesses," Richard sighed. "Perfect Venuses."

Anya and Aria smiled at him, like they'd heard it before but knew it as truth. Anya then removed Aria's shirt and kissed the tops of her breasts, tongue flicking down to the crowns of her aureoles, which deepened in color in the loft light. Her nipples peaked above the curve of her bra and Anya sucked on them gently, as if awakening them and pulling them out of their naked slumber. Aria purred gently and pulled down her panties. They dropped on the bed and Richard, until then sitting motionless in the chair, transfixed, sighed and wanted nothing more than to smell the magic of her Y.

"I want to wrap your panties around my cock," Richard said. "You showed your pussy to me on the way up here and I want your imagine your pussy climbing my stairs."

"Wrap it all oyu like, Dick," Aria said, expertly tossing her panties to him with a flick of her toes. They smelled like spring and made Richard think of swimming lessons.

Anya kissed away Aria's clothes, and then knelt in front of her, kissing the fiery patch of hair above her cunt, worshipping the holiness of her Venus conch. Aria leaned over, heavy breasts hanging like ripened fruit, and pressed herself into Anya’s supplicant face. Aria then began to undress Anya, pulling her shirt off and then unlatching her bra from the front, letting her breasts fall and swell under the moonlit gravity. Her aureoles were like dark teacups resting on two hillocks of chocolate mousse and her nipples begged to be sucked. Anya, still on her knees, turned to show Richard her ass, using her hands to spread her cheeks and exhibit the outline of her cooch, barely hidden behind her thong, fuzzy lips peaking out like rose petals.

Richard's hand was firmly in his pants and the shape of his cock, rocket-like, showed through the tight fabric of his jeans. Aria's panties peaked out from Richard’s zipper, and Anya tossed her panties over to Richard in kind. They were damp from her heating sex and smelled of blueberries and violets. These joined Aria’s panties next to his claustrophobic cock. "Equilibrium," he said.

Anya and Aria laughed, then played with each other's tongues while their hands caressed each other's breasts, kneading them. Anya put her finger in her pussy from behind and sighed. Richard could swear that their breasts were bigger now than they were when he first saw them in the lobby. Anya sucked hard on Aria's nipples and Aria moaned, pressing her breasts together in Anya's face, who started twisting her finger deeper into her cunt. The girls embraced and Richard saw the beauty of their nakedness. Like chocolate and raspberries.

Anya's hand wandered to Aria's ass, massaging it from side to side. She licked her fingers and slid them down Aria's ass-cleavage, stopping just above her asshole. Aria closed her eyes and stuck her ass out, using her hands to spread her ass as Anya's hand massaged deeper. Anya turned to show Richard her own asshole as Aria’s Snow White hand ran its fingers over Anya’s wet lips.

Richard was wanking furiously then, his pants around his knees and himself unashamed in front of the Sapphic duo. His cock stood at full attention and he massaged it gently with his hand riding above the two sets of panties wound around the base of his gigantic flagpole (I need to call it something other than a cock, because it was that big; blame the moon). "Fuck, you are both so hot," he said. He realized that it was either stupid or a statement of the obvious, but he said it like mental pre-cum, his thoughts slowly dripping out of the warm edges of his consciousness. For him, watching them was like watching a dream

Anya laid on her back and spread her legs wide, facing Richard. Want to watch me come, Dick?" she said. Richard nodded, staring over her pussy and belly at the two soft mounds dawdling on her chest. Aria stood over Anya and faced Richard, leaning over Anya's Swiss Miss pussy and waved her breasts back and forth for Richard, who showed approval by showing the girls his pre-cum dripping from the eye of his tropical storm. Aria dropped one tit and then another against Anya's pussy as Anya fricked her clit between her fingers like an ebony jewel. Aria ran her tongue between Anya's sopping lips, tasting the sweetness of her sauce to the soundtrack of whimpers and gasps.

Aria's brought her hand to Anya's asshole and ate deeper into her cunt. Anya moaned like cat in heat and her pussy opened even wider against Aria's deep-drinking tongue. Long, full gulps of sparkling spring water. Anya plunged her fingers into Aria’s bleach-white asshole as Aria knelt and played her own clit. The two of the moaned and came in unison. Once, twice, three times. Each time more abandoned, more desperate. Richard felt a weight at the base of his gut. His breath was short and he could taste the pussy mist hanging thick in the air. Now totally naked, his balls how low and loose and they ached more with each moan from the bed. He wondered if his cum might shoot across the room. But he wanted to wait.

Anya and Aria had already crashed through whatever pleasure ceiling they’d set for themselves in the past. They whispered to each other about the heaviness and fullness of their tits, the nectarine sweetness of their pussies, the tightness of their assholes. Aria said to Anya, "put your tits back in my mouth, I need them." Anya obliged, her tits aching like Richard’s balls. Aria sucked on Anya while she fingered herself, moaning desperately. "Let me taste your tits," she said. Anya massaged her tits for Aria and moaned with her, the two of them making a music bestial and pure. Aria sucked on Anya until she made herself come and then Anya pushed her pussy into Aria’s gasping face. They came in unison again.

Richard was stunned silent. He'd never before seen such pure sex. The kind that transcends gender and disappears into the realm of pure pleasure. Whipping hair, aching moans, pubic hair, fat tits, pussies dripping with cum and begging to be plugged. A miasma of pornography devolving into the oblivion of eternal orgasm. In the light of the moon, Anya and Aria pure lust and libido. (You can make the moon do whatever you want.)

Just as Richard was getting ready to come, Aria said, "No more watching. I know by the look of your cock that it needs a pussy, and this pussy needs your hot meat to fill it. Put your Dick in my cunt and let it swim." Anya nodded, "I want to lick your balls because I want to make them jump. I want your dam to overflow onto my tits."

Because Anya and Aria were in such rhythm, Richard knew their first-person to be collective. Both of their cunts would need to be fucked in order for their pussy to be satisfied. He'd need to wash all of their tits with his calescent icing to prove his veneration. For them, the fruits of his labor, his firstborn cum, his sacrifice at the thighs of Venus, her towering tits and blood-hot Well of Life, her perfect star. Yes. This would be his worship, his way to honor their insatiability for the wonders of basking in a hot rainshower of bottomless pussy.

"I want you, Dick," the girls said. (See, the entendre?)

Anya and Aria offered Richard their asses, bowing on all fours as he approached. Their twats glistened and breathed, their assholes quivering in perfect meter. They kissed each other while they waited for Dick, who first plunged his fingers into Anya's special place and listened to her moan as she pushed back against him. And his cock, higher and harder than a Harrier, was like the fuel line to her fuselage. She sucked him in and he cried out, "Holy fuck, your cunt feels like God!" She pushed into his pelvis and the softness and fullness of her ass flesh against him made his breath short. The ache in his balls pulsed and he thrust into her like he was in playing in front of a sold-out crowd. Dick reached his hands around her and grabbed her rocking breasts, her cups running-eth over.

Anya turned on her back and fucked herself and waited for Dick to bring Aria to orgasm, twice. Each time louder and wetter. Her hot twat juice covered his quivering cock and dripped down his throbbing balls. She fingered her own asshole, one finger, two fingers. Dick pulled out and moved to Anya, who was kissing Aria and smirking, as if listening to the yonic, pre-linguistic secret of pure adulation. Dick’s cock wept brave semen and with its tip he traced a perfect cursive S on the inside of Anya’s thigh (S for semen, probably). She unfolded her fat cunt lips and said "fuck me, Dick, fuck me, Dick, fuck me, Dick" over and over again as he teased around her flower folds and let his snake taste the fruits of her womb. Aria meanwhile went back to sucking on Anya's lolling tits and fingered herself as Dick proceeded to give Anya the executive treatment, plunging forthwith deep into her beckoning openness.

He fucked her like a master composer, following her pulse, staccato and stop. She moaned like an undersea monster as Aria moved to straddle her face and push her cunt over Anya’s seeking mouth. She kissed Richard on his face and lips, transposing whatever electricity she pulled from Anya’s rich tits and straight into Richard’s head. Dick rocked harder. Anya came once, came again. Her wetness coated Richard's lap and he was newly born.

Richard couldn't stand it anymore so he stood back from the bed and stared down at his oceanic rod. It was harder than pavement and his balls screamed to be drained. Without a word, Anya and Aria knelt in felt of Richard and offered their mammaries to his phallus. Not subservient, but gracious. They wanted his cum to coat them, to drip around and over their hard nipples and into their navels, like a spermic Jackson Pollock. Aria said, "paint my portrait, dick," and Anya moaned. Together their tits slow danced against his thighs, flesh like clouds (heavenly clouds, you could say). Richard grabbed his richard and tugged once, his eye gleeking open and dripping cum onto their naked breasts. He pulled harder and the Anya and Aria moaned, kissed each other, waited for the shower. And then Richard came, streaks of burning hot jizz arching through the air. He came hard, his cum splashing off their tits and onto their moist lips and thirsty tongues. They kissed each other as he rained down. There was enough cum to live on for a month. His millions of little sheep screaming in glee to be set free and live their few microsecond glories coating the most beautiful tits Dick and his richard had ever seen.

Richard stopped by Miss Samantha’s desk on the way out. She gave him a coy look and stepped close to him. She placed her right hand on his crotch and said, “You’ll need to come again soon.”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2wl67x/getting_a_piece_of_heaven_mff