The Mammoth Book of Urban Erotic Confessions Read online

  Barbara Cardy originally trained in art, design, and construction, before moving through a variety of careers. To date, she has edited nearly 30 anthologies of various kinds. She lives in Kent with her two boys.

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  Constable & Robinson Ltd.

  55–56 Russell Square

  London WC1B 4HP

  www.constablerobinson.com

  First published in the UK by Robinson,

  an imprint of Constable & Robinson Ltd., 2014

  Copyright © Barbara Cardy, 2014 Copyright for each confession remains with the individual contributor

  The right of Barbara Cardy to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in Publication

  Data is available from the British Library

  UK ISBN: 978-1-4721-1163-0 (paperback)

  UK ISBN: 978-1-4721-1168-5 (ebook)

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  First published in the United States in 2014 by Running Press Book Publishers,

  A Member of the Perseus Books Group

  All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher.

  Books published by Running Press are available at special discounts for bulk purchases in the United States by corporations, institutions, and other organizations. For more information, please contact the Special Markets Department at the Perseus Books Group, 2300 Chestnut Street, Suite 200, Philadelphia, PA 19103, or call (800) 810-4145, ext. 5000, or e-mail [email protected].

  US ISBN: 978-0-76245-228-6

  US Library of Congress Control Number: 2014930219

  9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Digit on the right indicates the number of this printing

  Running Press Book Publishers

  2300 Chestnut Street

  Philadelphia, PA 19103-4371

  Visit us on the web!

  www.runningpress.com

  Printed and bound in the UK

  Cover by Ken Leeder

  Contents

  IT TAKES ALL KINDS

  Sal, Milton Keynes

  TWO’S COMPANY, THREE’S A CROWD

  Petra, London

  CLOTHES ENCOUNTERS

  Phil, Stratford-upon-Avon

  SEXIER BY THE DOZEN

  Sarah, Waco

  OUT WITH A BANG

  Tim, San Jose

  DIVERSION

  Theresa, Loughborough

  A FORBIDDEN TASTE

  Mick, Huddersfield

  NIGHT RIDER

  Reece, Seattle

  TO SERVE MY MISTRESS

  Robert, Phoenix

  FIFI THE SLUT

  Vic, Blackpool

  GROUP LESSONS

  Brianna, Chicago

  THE 36 CLUB

  Claude, Paris

  I PEE FREELY

  Moira, Chicago

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR BOSS

  Stephanie, Sheffield

  MASTERING THE MISTRESS

  Nick, Seattle

  A SPECIAL FAVOUR

  Lindsey, Oxford

  TIED UP AND BENT OVER

  Helen, Plymouth

  MUMMY YUMMY

  Sonya, Bristol

  MY SOUTH BANK SHOW

  Bob, London

  FRIDAY FUN NIGHT

  Claire, Chatham

  MOTHER-IN-LORD

  Victoria, Bristol

  STAG-TRIP SURPRISE

  Johnny, North London

  NO SWEAT

  Samantha, Dorset

  MY FOOT-FETISH VIRGINITY

  Rosie, Columbus

  WORTH MY WHILE

  Clifford, Long Island

  EVERYBODY’S GOT A FIST

  Julie, Orlando

  A COMMERCIAL ARRANGEMENT

  Sean, Chester

  LIFE BEGINS AT FORTY

  Doug, Stittsville

  HEAT INDEX

  Mia, St Louis

  GIVING HER A HAND

  Marsha, Brighton

  BEDSIDE MANNER

  Tory, Colorado

  MY REGRESSION INTO BABYHOOD

  Jessica, San Francisco

  ANY PORT IN A STORM

  Phil, Manchester

  CITIZEN CANE

  Ellie, Lincoln

  ALL ABOUT HIM

  Mina, Milwaukee

  BOARDROOM MISBEHAVIOUR

  Becky, London

  DRIVING THE GIRLS HOME

  Peter, London

  DOG-GONE!

  Stewart, Wellington

  THE GORMLESS GIGOLO

  Amber, Milton Keynes

  HER NEW HOME HELP

  Sylvia, Darlington

  SECOND SHIFT

  Stephen, Dallas

  THE MENTOR BEHIND ME

  Michelle, Boston

  BARCELONA

  Maggie, California

  ANONYMOUS SEX

  Liza, London

  LITTLE SHITS

  Penelope, Ipswich

  THE VELVET GLOVE

  Lane, New York

  LEARNING TO SHARE

  Dan, Liverpool, New York

  PANTS DOWN

  Olivia, Sydney

  THE JOYS OF SUCKING COCK AS A STRAIGHT MALE

  Anonymous, Mississippi

  BLIND DATE

  Sam, Watford

  A PROPER PLACE FOR LITTLE LADIES

  Ashley, Sussex

  REHEARSALS

  Olivia, Bournemouth

  TEMPTATIONS OF A WICKED STEPMOTHER

  Christine, Manchester />
  CLOSING TIME

  Dean, Birmingham

  EVERY WAY SHE WANTS

  Coral, St Louis

  ADDICTED

  Jane, Newcastle

  GOOD VIBRATIONS

  Sarah, Salisbury

  SCHOOLGIRL DREAMS

  Cotton, Chicago

  It Takes All Kinds

  Sal, Milton Keynes

  My name is Sal and I’m a working girl. If it sounds like a confession, that’s because it is. I’ve been a working girl, prostitute, whore, whatever you want to call me, for three weeks and two days, but that’s not what’s bothering me. What’s bothering me is that I’m beginning to enjoy it.

  I’m in this situation because the bastard I was living with upped and left soon after our son was born. Six months after, to be precise. I had hardly any money and with no relatives nearby, no chance of earning any.

  Francine, more an acquaintance than a friend, always seemed to be spending, despite never seeming to work for a living. One day I bumped into her in the supermarket. She had a trolley full of choice goods and I had a few budget items in a basket. I don’t usually bore people with my problems but I couldn’t help complaining about the situation I was in and lamenting that I didn’t know what I was going to do.

  She studied me for a moment, pursing her lips as though coming to a decision, and asked me what 150 pounds sounded like for an hour’s work. I thought she was kidding me but, intrigued, I asked her what I would have to do. She told me and I shook my head. I was still staring at her in a state of shock when she gave me her card and said to call her if I changed my mind.

  I let her go on her way and looked at my meagre shopping and baby Charlie, who was contentedly asleep in his pram. Already his clothes were growing too small for him and I’d little money for replacements. I called after her and asked her to tell me more.

  That first time, I walked down the drive to the four-bedroomed detached house that was now going to be my place of work with a lump of fear in my throat.

  Francine introduced me to the Boss, as she was called, who would be taking a cut of my earnings. When Francine took Charlie from me, my heart missed a beat. She told me not to worry, that she would keep an eye on him as she took a break. I took a deep breath and thought about what the money could buy us.

  I sat down on the couch, waiting, and if I hadn’t been so desperate I would have turned tail and run away as fast as I could. All I knew was that the client was a regular and he was paying me fifty pounds over the going rate for something “extra” and that I wouldn’t have to go the whole way.

  When Peggy, the Boss, walked up to me and told me that he was in the second room on the left, I bit my lip and could feel my eyes fill with tears. She rested a hand on my shoulder and reassured me that I would be fine. I wasn’t quite as confident as her but I nodded and gave her a weak smile.

  Taking a deep breath, I climbed the stairs, got changed in the bathroom and walked into the bedroom. Sitting at a small desk was a rosy-cheeked, chubby man, dressed in tight shorts and an even tighter T-shirt. He looked like the kind of man who would be happier trainspotting than visiting a brothel.

  He turned around to look at me, all the time sucking his thumb. “I’ve been a naughty boy.”

  I shut the door behind me. “What have you done?”

  “Knocked over my crayons and broke them. Please don’t punish me. Please don’t whack me with your slipper.”

  As instructed I was wearing a pink negligee and pink fluffy kitten slippers. “You’re a very naughty boy, pull your shorts down and bend over.”

  His lip quivered and his already semi-aroused cock began to stand to attention.

  “Bend over,” I commanded.

  He did as ordered.

  I slipped off my slipper and hit him three times on each cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” he called out. “I’m so sorry.”

  I whacked his arse a couple more times for good measure. “Right, pull up your shorts and don’t make another sound while I have a nap.”

  The cheeks on his face were equally as red as his buttocks. He bit his lip. “Please can I have a nap with you?” He gave me a bashful look and began sucking his thumb.

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  I climbed into bed and he climbed in next to me.

  “I’m hungry. Can I have a drink of your milk?”

  “What’s the magic word?”

  “Please.”

  I exposed my breast and he latched onto it hungrily, sucking heavily on my breast milk.

  “Touch me,” he murmured, momentarily taking his lips off my nipple.

  I reached down and stroked his little rock-hard prick, sliding my hand up and down, relieved that he only took a minute to spurt out with a groan of satisfaction.

  “Thank you,” he said, smiling sheepishly.

  As instructed earlier, I climbed out of bed and walked out of the bedroom, leaving him to get changed and go back to his regular life; his strange longing satisfied for a while at least.

  After a quick shower and back in my old jeans and top, I took Charlie from Francine, trying not to think of what I’d just done. She asked me how I felt and I told her it wasn’t too bad and she joked at least I hadn’t had to lie back and think of England.

  As she walked me to the front door, Francine told me that he’d wanted to suck on “ripe breasts” for ages. When she asked me if I’d be up for it again, I hesitated and then nodded, thinking there were worse ways to earn money. Though, at that moment in time, I couldn’t think of any.

  With the money tucked away and Charlie wearing a new outfit and the fridge stocked up for the week, I figured I’d be able to manage for a while, but four days later I got a phone call from Francine. This time it was for a hundred and it was a different client. She was doing something special or else she would have done it herself. It was easy money, Francine said.

  I asked her if he wanted to fuck me, because it would be a firm no if that was the case.

  She sighed audibly and said that’s why she was asking me, this client definitely didn’t want to fuck me. It was laughable really; I was a whore who didn’t open her legs.

  With Charlie tucked up at a friend’s house, a bottle of wine to compensate for her time, I headed back to the house of shame, as I had named it.

  Pulling on the uniform and mask and trying not to laugh out loud, I asked the Boss if she was kidding me. When she told me that, if I did it right, I’d be in and out in less than half an hour, it wiped the smile off my face. One hundred pounds for thirty minutes’ work, I’d wear whatever they asked me to.

  The man was curled up in a corner of the room, fully dressed in a Star Trek uniform, his plastic pointy ears and pale face with a green hue looking more than comical.

  “Please don’t hurt me.”

  Putting on the deepest voice I could muster, I tried my best to act like a Klingon. Hands on hips, I strode towards him. “Stand up, you puny man.” I grabbed his shirt and pulled him to his feet. I wasn’t joking about puny either; he must have been nine stone, wet through.

  I gripped his chin. Luckily, I’d been a Star Trek fan in my teenage years so could improvise, if nothing else. “You’ll make a good plaything for this Klingon warrior.”

  He visibly shivered.

  “Get ready to be boarded.” Grabbing his shirt, I threw him towards the bed. As he lay face down, I strapped on the black cock and picked up the lube. As I yanked down his trousers, he yelled out.

  “No, please don’t do this, don’t rape me, you motherfucking Klingon.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I shouted back, beginning to enjoy the feeling of power I had over this man. I bent over and bit his arse cheek. He screamed out. I fell onto his back, pinning his hands to the bed. “Don’t make a sound and I won’t hurt you. Not much anyway. You’re going to be fucked, no matter what, so the more you accept that, the less painful it will be. Do you understand?”

  He nodded.

  I squirted some lube on his tight
arsehole. I didn’t spend too much time on preparation, as that wasn’t what the client was looking for. A couple of minutes later, I positioned the latex monstrosity and slid in. He groaned and called out, “Someone, help me.”

  I slid the cock out. “I’m going to fuck you good and proper.”

  I’d been thrusting into him a few good strokes when I realized something else was happening. A bump on the strap-on was rubbing against my clit and it was turning me on and so was the feeling of total power I had over this feeble man. I growled and in response he thrust his arse up for more. I pushed in harder. I growled in his ear and ground into his body, delighting in the flutter of pleasure that ran through my body. We both groaned and I could feel the warm tingle of an approaching orgasm and, as it took hold of my body, I rammed into him and by the groan he let out I figured my work was done for the night.

  As I changed, I looked at my watch. Less than thirty minutes, a hundred pounds in my purse and a bloody good orgasm to boot. On the way home, I treated myself to a glass of wine and promised myself that that was the last time. Now I’d got a bit of money, I would try to find another way of earning a living.

  A week later came another call. This time, she’d got two clients lined up for me. Mummy’s boy was back and requesting a suck on my overflowing tits. She laughed as she told me that the Boss had said I was unavailable and he offered to pay an extra fifty. She told me that I would like the other client as he was a virgin.

  I asked her if that meant the unthinkable. She laughed again and said that if I wanted to earn the money I’d have to open my legs but, as a first go, this client would be easy money. Before I could change my mind, I agreed.