From “Deployed”

05 Friday Oct 2012

Tags

adult, birthday, candles, cunnilingus, erotic fiction, erotica, excerpt, fantasy, fingering, hot wax, mature, oral sex, sex, short story

This story still isn’t quite finished, but here’s a sneak peek at it…

*****

We pad barefoot back into the kitchen, wrapped in thick towels, and I grab us each a bottle out of the fridge. We tap the necks of together. “Happy birthday, dude,” I say and you smile, taking a long drink of good beer. I lean against the counter and my elbow causes the little white birthday candles to roll into the sugar bowl before coming to a stop.

You set your beer down and pick up the candles, rolling them thoughtfully between your fingers. You smile a secret smile and raise your eyebrows at me.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” you reply. “I was just thinking of how nice it would be to have some of those special low-temp candles…” You smirk. “Sometimes my dirty bondage fantasies just slip out.”

I put my beer down and undo my towel, re-wrapping it around my waist, baring my breasts. “Go for it.”

“No way, man. You’ll burn yourself with these.”

I sigh. “I can handle it. Trust me.”

“You keep saying that.” You look dubious, but the image in your head of hot wax dripped on my skin is clearly vivid.

I take one of the candles from you and light it. I hold it over my arm and let the wax drop on my skin. It stings, but not enough to make me flinch. “See?”

I scoop a handful of soft breast in my hand and hold the hot flame just inches over my quivering nipple. Silently, the first drop hits the sensitive flesh and I inhale sharply as the too-hot wax burns my nipple. It cools instantly to a more comfortable warmth, but that first sting is delicious, like a well-timed bite, painful, but good. Another drop joins it, and another until my nipple has a coating of white wax.

I blow out the spent candle and peel the wax off and the tender pink skin is hot and red. I do the same to the other nipple, wincing as the hot wax stings and then cools to a tender ache.

This time you blow out the candle and peel the wax off me. “Does it hurt?” you ask.

“Mmm hmm,” I answer, nodding. “They could definitely use some soothing.”

You pull me close and kiss me, then you lower your head to the hot, aching red spots on my nipples. My towel comes unwrapped and falls to the floor. Your hand slides between my thighs, parting the still-damp curls and sinking easily between my lips. I moan as your finger finds my clit; you rub it gently, making it hard under your fingertips.

Your lips are gentle on my nipples, your tongue flicking against the hard points. The slight burns from the wax hurt, but the combination of the sting and the ache of pleasure of your licking and sucking are driving me wild. The subtle, constant pain is better than clamps or rings, even.

My cunt is reacting powerfully to the play. Your hands are working my body like you’ve known its every curve–every secret–forever. You slide your fingers inside me, pressing against me, leaning me hard against the counter. I’m bent back, arched for you, my legs apart as your fingers manipulate me. The only sound in the darkened kitchen is our breathing, soft moans and sighs, and the wet sounds of my pussy, the clicks as you plunge your fingers deep inside me and pull them back out. I know your fingers are shining with my juice and I grab your hand. You stop, confused, and then sigh deeply as I raise the two fingers to my mouth and suck on them.

I guide your hand back to my pussy, but you shake your head. “I want to taste you,” you say, and I’m in no position to argue. I hop up on the counter and you lower your mouth to my cunt, spreading my legs and easing them up over your shoulders. Immediately, you plunge your tongue into me, tasting me. I feel my own juices trickle from me, tickling down to my asshole, which you catch with your tongue and make me moan aloud. You tease the tender spot with your tongue before sliding it back inside my cunt, fucking me deeply.

My clit aches to be touched, and I reach down to stroke it, rubbing the little kernel between two fingers. You stop what you’re doing and watch me touch myself, kissing the soft skin of my inner thighs. When my hips start to squirm, you gently move my hand. “Let me,” you say and lower your head again, smiling up at me as I lick my fingers clean. You press your tongue flat against my clit and use the same motions I used with my fingers, mimicking the speed and pressure I used and making me moan anew. You slide two fingers inside me, curving them upwards in search of my g-spot.

The firm, even pressure deep inside calls forth my pleasure from a place far away, but it’s coming fast and hard. I feel myself lose control as your fingers massage and manipulate my very core, stimulating me in ways few have been able to. My palms slap against the countertop as I brace myself for the orgasm that breaks inside me, my muscles clenching deep within. I know you can feel that deep spasming and you keep stroking me, pressing the magic spot until the pulses have slowed. Your lips go around my clit and you suck; your tongue is about to bring me around again. A second time, this time on the surface, the spasms and throbs of pleasure are radiating outward, fluttering and pulsing quick and hard and fast, a high counter-melody to the first deep climax.

My cum is running over your hand, and as you slide your fingers out of me, it gushes forth, leaving a wet puddle beneath me.

You stand, and I wrap my arms and legs around you, kissing you deeply and tasting myself on your lips…

Cleanup in Aisle Three

03 Wednesday Oct 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

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Tags

adult, after hours, department store, erotic fiction, erotica, exhibitionism, FFM, lunchroom, mature, oral sex, public sex, sex, threesome, threeway, voyeurism

I wrote this story years and years ago for a contest. I didn’t win, and it’s far more porn than erotica than the more recent stuff I’ve written, but it’s a fun, dirty little stroke piece, anyway…

*****

I was planning to go on vacation, so I switched a night shift with my co-worker to make up time. I was somewhat familiar with the other people on that shift from union meetings, but we would know each other quite well by night’s end.

Debbie told me that things on the night shift were a little more unrestrained than they were during the day. She regaled me with stories of all the places she’d seen co-workers doing it, and by the time I she was done I was tickled pink with the delightful irony of it all: America’s Most Moral Department Store Chain was a seething hotbed of wanton sex, dirty kinks, and lustful vices. I also made a mental list of the produce items I would never again purchase from Save-Mart.

Before my first night shift began, she made it a point to tell me that all the stories she’d told me were true. I secretly hoped so. Besides being thrilled at the delicious hypocrisy of a midnight fuck-fest, I was also getting pretty turned on by it too. I didn’t tell Debbie, but it had been a really long time since I’d had sex with anyone besides myself and the thought of hooking up and getting laid on company time didn’t seem like such a bad deal from where I was sitting.

I was assigned to work the frozen foods section of the store, restocking the rows and rows of coolers. I had been slaving away for what seemed like decades when the tone over the intercom system signaled our first break. I walked back to the employees’ lounge, anticipating 15 minutes of awkward small talk. Instead, as I approached the door, I could hear moaning and giggling coming from inside. I stood silently outside the door and peeked in. Kim from Bakery was reclining atop one of the lunch tables with her feet resting on Tyler from Deli’s shoulders. Tyler’s pants were around his thighs and his tight, muscled ass was peeking out from underneath his official red Save-Mart tunic.

I watched as he slid his cock into her. Kim’s head fell back with pleasure and he started slamming into her, the table squeaking with every thrust. It was so hot, I barely thought to look around before sliding my hand down down the front of my skirt and diddling my clit. I wanted a better view, so I slowly eased the door open, but the hinges gave out a deep, loud squeal of metal on metal.

Kim’s head snapped up and I spun on my heel, pulling my wet fingers out of my snatch as I disappeared into the shadows of the vast store. My cheeks were hot and I hoped she hadn’t seen me there. What could I say? I stood in the dark bathroom fixtures aisle and closed my eyes, but all I could see was Tyler’s sweet ass and Kim’s moist lips, parted with lust as he fucked her under the florescent lights of the lunch room. My pussy was soaked, and I rubbed myself through my panties, wondering if I could get off before the break period was up, but before I could get close enough to cum, the second tone over the intercom system told us that our fifteen-minute break was over. With a sigh, I made my way back to frozen foods and the endless rows of freezers.

The temperature in the “frozen tundra” as we called it was enough to cool anyone’s engines, but all it did was make my nipples hard, which made them rub against my shirt in a most uncomfortable and delightful way. No amount of stacking frozen pizza by SKU number was going to keep my mind off the orgasm that lay just beyond my reach, and it was all I could do not to diddle myself right there in the middle of a well-lit aisle. I even considered, then abandoned, the idea of slipping a bag of frozen niblets in my panties just to cool things off enough to concentrate. As it was, I found myself clock-watching in true Save-Mart style. If the first half of the shift leading to the first break seemed long, the second stretch leading to the “lunch” break was interminable.

The second the tone sounded for break, I all but ran to the lunch room hoping to “run into” Kim and Tyler. But the room was empty. I waited for a few minutes, but when they didn’t come in, I gave up and grabbed a soda from the machine and headed back out into the darker side of the store. The other stocking crew didn’t come on until 4 a. m., so besides a few emergency lights, most of the store was empty and dark. Sighing, I stopped over by magazines and picked out a copy of the raciest rag Save-Mart sells, figuring maybe I could rub out a quick on while fantasizing about oiled up pro-wrestlers. I made my way through the dark to home furnishings and stretched out more or less comfortably on a bedding display.

Before I could fully formulate a good John Cena fantasy and get down to business, I heard footsteps coming my way. I lowered the magazine and looked up. Kim and Tyler were coming toward me. I could only imagine what they were doing on this side of the store, and I considered that perhaps I was trespassing in one of their favorite trysting spots. Please, Jesus, I thought, let them get it on during every break.

Kim sidled up to the fake bed I was still lying on and perched like a cat on the edge and smiled at me. She was tall and thin, no longer at all young but still in fantastic shape. Rumor around the water cooler was that she had only recently given up her job as an exotic dancer because her teenage sons were embarrassed by their MILF mom. Seeing her in person, I could well believe it. “We’ve been lookin’ all over for you,” she purred, her voice deep and husky as she stretched out next to me. “Night shift gets so borin’, don’t you think, darlin’?”

I rose up on my elbows and looked at the two of them. “Yeah,” Tyler added, “there’s sure not much to do on a break, is there?” Poor Tyler wasn’t the brightest bulb on the porch, but what he lacked in brains he made up for with his body. Barely nineteen and built like a brick shit-house, the scuttlebutt on Tyler was that he was supposed to go to college on a football scholarship, but one too many concussions forced him out of the sport. I could well believe that, too.

“We were so disappointed when you ran off earlier, ” Kim said. “We always like to leave the door open in case someone else wants to join in or watch us or…anything,” she hinted, running her perfectly manicured nails along my bare thigh. I shivered at the catlike softness of her touch. “I don’t know if Debbie told you or not, but we get pretty friendly here on the night shift. Heck, everyone’s real friendly,” she added. “If you wanted to, you could do it with someone new every night of the week. Everyone does it.” It never even occurred to me to try to stop her gentle caresses; they did feel really good and heck, everyone does it.

Tyler came over and sat on the other side of our makeshift bed. I could see his erection clearly through his Save-Mart jeans ($19.97, men’s wear). I wish I could say that I was embarrassed to admit that I was more than a little turned on by the idea of a threesome with them, but Kim was so fucking sexy and Tyler was hotter than any young stud I’d been lucky enough to ever get the chance to fuck.

Tyler started playing with a loose strand of my hair, twirling it around his fingers and pressing it to his lips. “What do you say, sexy?” he asked, leaning in to nibble on my earlobe. I felt his hot breath on my neck, and my pussy contracted in response. I leaned my head back and let him tease me with his lips, teeth and tongue. Kim paid court to my other ear, her butterfly-like kisses a striking counterpart to Tyler’s rougher but equally stimulating treatment.

She gently began teasing my tits through the thin fabric of my light summer blouse. She traced the outline of my bra under the soft, clingy cotton, her nails bringing my nipples into rock-hard points almost immediately. Tyler slid one hand up under my shirt and with a deft flick of his fingers undid the front clasp of my bra. Truly, his hand-eye coordination was football’s loss and Save-Mart’s gain. My breasts sprung free and he pinched and teased my nipples until they were burning and I was moaning with desire.

Kim slithered down the bed and slid a practiced hand up my short skirt. She teased my already damp pussy hair through the thin nylon of my panties. Her finger snaked inside the elastic and tickled the damp tangle of curls, causing me to squirm impatiently. Reaching up, she hooked the waistband of my panties with her fingers and I lifted my hips so that she could easily remove my underwear. Once that little impediment was gone, she gently spread my thighs and lowered her mouth to my waiting cunt. She ran her tongue from my clit to my asshole, mingling her saliva with my own wet juices. She fucked me with her tongue while Tyler pulled out his huge cock. He stood there stroking it as Kim brought me closer and closer to a climax. She had one finger in my ass and at least three in my cunt while she greedily sucked and licked my clit. I was writhing and moaning, not caring if anyone else in the store could hear.

Finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I felt my pussy spasm as the orgasm hit. I cried out in pleasure as Kim licked every drop of juice from my dripping twat. Panting, I looked over at Tyler who was grinning and stroking his fat cock with abandon. Kim looked up, her face glistening with my cunt juice, and I motioned for her to switch places with me. I hadn’t tasted pussy in forever and a day and I couldn’t wait to return the favor. She lay flat on the bed and spread her long, limber legs wide. Her dress was short and her tiny g-string barely covered her shaved slit. I pulled the string aside and plunged my tongue into her dripping hole. I could taste the funky acidity of Tyler’s cum inside her, and she groaned appreciatively as I sucked her clean.

She pulled Tyler over to her so she could give him head. He eagerly presented his cock to her; she tilted her head back and took nearly the entire length of him in her mouth. As I enjoyed the sweet, musky woman-scent of her pussy, I watched Tyler fuck her mouth. Her soft, red lips swallowed every inch of him as his hairy balls banged off her chin. He was very encouraging, telling her, “That’s right, baby. You suck my cock real good.” I giggled into Kim’s creaming cunt.

Kim stopped sucking Tyler’s cock real good only long enough to declare that she needed to be fucked, so I got up and Tyler switched places with me, easily sinking his cock into her well-oiled snatch. I got behind Tyler where he was kneeling atop Kim and reached between his legs to fondle his balls. I ran my finger inside his hairy crack and tickled the brown whorl of his asshole. I gently spread his cheeks and lightly licked the sweet, funky spot. He groaned so I thrust my tongue past the barrier and slid my tongue into his ass as far as it would go. Tyler went wild. With every thrust he slammed his cock into Kim, while every time he pulled out he impaled himself on my tongue. I reached down and slid two fingers in Kim’s ass too, and they both began bucking wildly.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Travis shot his load. I could tell because he was screaming “Oh fuck, oh FUCK, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” Kim was no less vocal when she achieved her release, emitting a high-pitched squeal that petered out only when they were both spent.

I fastened my bra, and when I bent down to find my panties in the dark, the blinding beam of a spotlight shone into my eyes. “I need to see you in my office,” the store manager said sternly, looking at me. He snapped the light off and walked away, his Save-Mart loafers squeaking on the waxed floor.

I looked at Kim and before I could say anything, she laughed.

“Don’t sweat it, sweetie,” she said, wiping her dripping cunt on the edge of the display bedding. “He’s not much to look at, but he’s got a huge dick and can eat ass like you would not believe.”

I’m Coming Out

02 Tuesday Oct 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

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Tags

church, coming out, crossing the streams, erotica, erotica writing, exposed, fiction, guilt, pen name, pseudonym, published author, secret identity, truth

Well, technically, I came out.

Yesterday.

I write under a pen name and an assumed identity. I’m like the Batman. And I’m like a lot of erotica writers who have their own reasons for writing as someone else.

I imagine a lot of them are like me. I’m a mother to young kids. I’m active in my church. I run in circles where sex is not the main topic of conversation as a rule. And mostly, it’s sometimes hard to explain what it is I do, and why.

But on my main, regular, “real life” blog that is connected with my main, “real life” business, I came out as an erotica writer. I told the world that I’m a secret, closet composer of dirty little stories. So far it’s been mostly an assortment of “good for you!” and other encouragements, and a bit of surprise, but no one has come right out and condemned me for it.

In the logical part of my brain I know there’s no reason why they should. What I’m doing isn’t wrong. I’m open about sex. I enjoy it. Within my own lifestyle and my own sexual habits, I’m really above reproach. But I’m gun-shy, and I think I know why.

A few years back, I was teaching religious education classes, preparing 9th and 10th graders for Confirmation. I’m well-versed in theology and Church teaching and more than qualified to teach it. I’m married, monogamous, I’m raising three children in the Church, I sing in the choir and serve as cantor–for real, I’m more than qualified.

One day on the Facebook I was reading a religious-based news feed and I commented as myself on a thread where they talk about a bishop somewhere being put out that a church-run college was teaching a class on gay marriage in the upcoming semester. He was appalled, as were all of the people posting and voicing their moral outrage. A school has no business teaching anything that is contrary to church teaching! How dare they!

Well, I didn’t see it that way. I live in NH. Gay marriage is here, and it’s here to stay. It’s spreading, too. It’s only a matter of time before it’s the law of the land. And people who object on religious grounds had better suck it up. So I said I thought it was a good idea to teach about it, since it’s here. It’s real. It’s a thing. And what a great opportunity to dialogue about that kind of modern morality in context of church teaching, blah blah blah.

Trust me, I was articulate as fuck.

Not long after, I got a call from the Bishop’s office. The director of religious ed for the whole diocese got an angry email about me from a woman in fucking MICHIGAN. She apparently read my comment, followed me to my Facebook page, saw that I was a religious ed instructor, and went directly to my Bishop to say I should be summarily dismissed.

The woman on the phone had the misfortune to catch me on a day when I was feeling feisty. She had not read my comments. She hadn’t read the article I commented on. She didn’t know the woman from Michigan’s name. But she wanted me to explain why I was behaving immorally in public.

I managed to not say, “Cunt, what the shit?” But that’s about the best that can be said, because I went up one side of this woman, down the other, and then back up the other side again for good measure. I’m pretty sure when she got off the phone, she was wishing she’d never called. I was calm, but I was PISSED, and the bitch knew it.

Luckily, it never even got to my pastor’s ear until I told him, and he laughed like hell at it and congratulated me for standing my ground. I didn’t get in any trouble, per se, unless you consider a thwarted attempt at a dressing-down “trouble”. The crux of my argument was that when I teach Confirmation class, I follow the curriculum. I teach them what the church teaches and let them make up their own minds about whether they believe it or not, just as I’ve done in my 43 years of faith. I keep my personal beliefs separate.

And separation works well for me, or it has until now. I guess after that episode, I found that keeping things separate and more or less hidden from one another is a good way to go. People who are prudish about sex don’t need to know about my proclivities, and people who are here for the pussy don’t need to hear about my latest knitting achievement. (Which, by the way is a Cthulhu cock sock, so there is a bit of overlap, I will admit.)

The Cthulhu cock sock. If you’re interested in my “real life” and care about what I’m knitting, click the pic to get to my other, not so super-secret blog. I think I’m entertaining even when I’m not talking about cocks and cunts.

I’m coming to the point where I know it would be easier to write and promote myself as me, but part of me thinks that while more people know J. A. Reynold’s real identity, keeping her life here separate is still a good idea. People who don’t want to know, don’t have to. They can remain ignorant, and blissfully so. Crossing the streams hasn’t been an issue for most of my friends so far, and hopefully, that’s how it will go.

I’m not keen to have to defend my writing, but the fact is that I’m a published author now, and I suppose I need to be able to stand up for myself when necessary. Because the stories keep coming.

So to speak…

From “Deflowered”

01 Monday Oct 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

adult, depressed, emo, erotic fiction, erotica, excerpt, jacking off, lonely, mad scientist, masturbation, mature, published, sex, sexual literature, short story

Here’s a little tease from a story that is going to be published in an upcoming anthology of “Mad Scientist Erotica” by Circlet Press called For Science! It’s the tale of a shy botanist who gets very into his work. This is actually a bit that was cut from the final story, but I liked how it read in its long form, so you get to have it here.

*****

Bill sighed and made sure the front door was tightly locked for the night before switching off the lights and heading up to bed. He made his way through the dark, empty house on instinct, knowing each tread of the staircase like the back of his hand.

The air under the eaves was close and stuffy, and he looked forward to the cooler air the impending rains were promising to leave in their wake. He opened the windows of his bedroom wide to let in any stray breeze that might be passing before he snapped on the bathroom light and readied himself for bed.

He went through the same motions he did every evening, with no adjustment or variation to his routine. He changed into clean pajama bottoms and a fresh, white t-shirt, stowing his dirty clothes neatly in the hamper. He washed his face and dried it, hanging the damp towel back on the towel bar to dry. He began to brush his teeth, squirting a glob of ice blue toothpaste on the brush and raising it to his mouth.

A thought ran through his head on tiny mouse feet, scurrying and scuttling out of the dark, littered places of his brain. It ran across the clean white surfaces of his consciousness before disappearing back into the shadows.

No woman will ever be interested in someone like you.

The man in the mirror made eye contact with him, and he stopped mid-motion. He squinted at his reflection, peering closer to the face he looked at every day, then stepped back, his toothbrush frozen in mid-air. He set it down on the sink, not caring that the blue gel slipped off the bristles and smeared on the pristine white porcelain.

He squinted again, and appraised his reflection with a critical eye and a scientist’s powers of observation, wondering where that harsh assessment of himself came from. It was certainly unlike him. In general, he was content with his appearance, and the fact that a very few women had ever succumbed to his awkward advances generally didn’t bother him that much. He was under no illusions that he was a smoldering sex god sent to drive women wild, but he certainly was far from unattractive by any measurable standard.

Sure, there were things he would change if he could. He wished, for one thing, that he looked a little closer to his actual age. When friends took him out for some beers on his fortieth birthday, the waitress insisted on checking his ID because she said he didn’t look old enough to drink. It was a fair assessment. Even with day’s growth of stubble, he still looked like a hairy fifteen-year old.

There had to be something else. He peeled off his shirt and let it drop to the floor. He flexed in the mirror, noting well-developed biceps and pecs and admitting that he was a little thicker around the middle since turning 40 than he liked. Still, he was far from doughy, and he kept himself in better-than-average shape overall for a middle-aged guy. He pulled the waistband of his cotton pants out and peered down at his genitals. He shrugged at his utter unremarkableness, and let the elastic constrict with a soft snap. There was nothing he could do about that.

He sighed and reached down for his shirt. He was about to put it back on, but decided that it was too warm and sticky for it and dropped it in the hamper. He cleaned the toothpaste off the sink and rinsed his toothbrush before reloading it and brushing his teeth for exactly two minutes.

Leaving his bathroom much as he’d found it, he turned off the light and lay down on top of the covers, taking his glasses off and setting them carefully on his nightstand. The breeze was picking up outside and he could hear the poplar trees dancing as the rain approached from the west, turning over their leaves and showing their silvery undersides. An occasional gust caused the heavy air in the room to move, and while it wasn’t yet refreshing, it did relieve some of the stuffiness. It also caused the lightweight jersey of his pants to stir and brush against him, and the sudden sensation caused him to think of a woman’s soft hand, seeking him in the dark.

He closed his eyes and thought of Maria, allowing himself to fantasize about her. He pictured her lying next to him; it was too warm and humid to make love, but in his imagination, she would want to bring him pleasure anyway.

His cock hardened with anticipation, and he reached down, stroking his hand over it through the fabric, feeling its warmth as it thickened under his light touch. Hooking his thumbs in his waistband, he slid his pants down, freeing his erection as a gust of cooler air swirled through the room. He kicked them off and stretched out again, imagining his own hand was hers wrapped around his cock.

He stroked gently at first, teasing the shaft, running his thumb over the sensitive tip. He pictured her in his mind, lying next to her, her dark curls loose and free in a dark halo around her face. She would lean on one elbow, looking at him as the pleasure he was feeling played out over his face. He smiled slightly, and he increased the pressure on his cock, moaning a little and encouraging her to continue.

In the distance, he could hear the wind blowing hard through a stand of tall pines and he could smell the rain on the air. His cock oozed a bit of precum, making it slippery in his fist and his hips twitched, thrusting as his body’s own fluid offered just the right about of lubrication.

The pleasure in him built, the aching in his balls making them hard and tight, and he could feel the need for release growing ever more urgent. He used long, firm strokes, moaning with pleasure, imagining the sound of her lilting voice in his head urging him to come for her, whispering endearments in a language he barely understood, using words that required no translation.

As the first huge drops of rain splatted against his screen, he felt his orgasm approach. He moaned aloud, knowing he had reached the breaking point, the sweet moment when he was going to come no matter what. The skies opened up, soaking the overlong grass and drowning out his deep groan of pleasure as his cock exploded in his hand, and he felt the hot jets of semen wash over his bare torso.

He lay still, listening to the rain pound against the greenhouse roof, feeling his cock throb weakly in his hand, then soften as the waves of pleasure receded. The air felt cooler and his body shone with a fine sheen of perspiration. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His body felt heavy, but so did his heart.

He rose, retrieving his pajama bottoms from the floor and going into the bathroom where he deposited them in the hamper. He showered, letting the cool water wash the sweat and slippery secretions down the drain. He stood for a long time in the stinging spray with his eyes closed, his forehead pressed against the glass shower door.

Bill slept fitfully. The voice in his head refused to be silent, mocking him as he tossed and turned alone in his bed. When dawn’s first rays were breaking over the horizon, his eyes opened, and with a groan, he gave up the battle with sleep and sat up. His corneas felt like they were coated with fine grit sandpaper and every muscle in his body ached. His sheets were tangled and rumpled, and he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, his fingers pressed to his throbbing temples.

He had fought with the voice in his head all night, pushing back as it berated him, accusing him of being less of a man than an average 13-year-old girl, and making sure he knew that he lacked the balls to actually ask a woman out–any woman, not just a goddess like Maria. It might have been fatigue, or just the simple fact that it had been a lot of lonely years since there had been anyone’s hand on his cock besides his own, but by the time he was seated at his kitchen table, alone with a hot cup of coffee and a slice of toast with peanut butter on it, he felt as low as he had in a week.

He chewed his toast thoughtlessly, staring out the window at the grass and decided it could wait another day, the same way he had the previous Friday, the morning after thoughts of Maria had caused him to act like a horny teenager yet again. He sighed, hating the pattern he had slipped into, wanting to get out of it, but knowing deep down that the voice in his head was right: he didn’t have the balls. The only place he was truly happy was out in his greenhouse–a fragile man, alone with his fragile plants.

The worst part, he thought, as he dumped the dregs of his cold coffee down the drain and threw away his uneaten crusts, was that not only was the voice right about him, but that at this time the following Friday, he would be sitting by himself in exactly the same spot, staring out at a lawn he didn’t feel like mowing, drinking black coffee that had gone cold on him, and not tasting the toast that he wouldn’t quite finish eating, feeling dirty, depressed, and very much alone.

From “Dirty Little Secret”

28 Friday Sep 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

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adult, cheating, erotic fiction, erotica, excerpt, ice cream shop, infidelity, mature, Not Safe for Work, NSFW, quickie, sex, short fiction, short story, writing

This is an excerpt from the story “Dirty Little Secret” that is published in my book of erotic short stories, Not Safe for Work. A married man is having some issues at home and takes comfort in the arms of a much younger woman.

*****

He walked up to the window and gave me that panty-dropping smile of his. I opened the small window and the sudden draft of cold air made my nipples stand right at attention, and right at his eye level too.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without your family,” I said, as nonchalantly as possible.

His eyebrows knit and then smoothed out quickly as an emotion I didn’t recognize flicked over his face and disappeared just as suddenly as it came. “My wife took the kids to her mom’s for a few days,” he explained.

“Oh,” I said, smiling. “And you had a craving for ice cream that you just couldn’t ignore, right?”

He smiled back, and that look flicked on and then off again. “Let’s just say it’s been the kind of day where a dish of ice cream served by the prettiest girl in town is just what I need.”

If my nipples hadn’t already been standing at full attention from the chilly night air, they would have popped up right then, like you read about. I gave him a saucy grin and said, “Prettiest? I don’t know about that…” I started. “You mean besides your wife, right?”

He shrugged and said nothing, but when his eyes met mine and locked there, I got the feeling that he might be up for a bit more than some playful flirting through a take-out window. I leaned in on my elbows and looked at him through the small opening. “Why do I get the feeling you’re here for more than just ice cream?” Again, I got a shrug that could have meant anything, really, and another one of those shy, sweet smiles of his. My heart thumped in my chest a little bit.

“You want to talk about it?” I asked. “I can let you in the side door. I was just about to close anyway.”

“Sure,” he said, sliding his hand across the formica counter and running his finger lightly along my forearm. “I’d like that.”

Before I gave myself even half a second to consider what I might or might not be doing, I shut the window and pulled the shades down that read “Closed”. I all but ran to the side door, stopping only long enough to hit the switches to kill the parking lot lights.

I opened the door and he was standing there in the soft light of the single bulb. I took a step back to let him in, and all at once he was so close to me I could feel his warmth. I closed the door behind us and locked it with a flick of my wrist. I turned, and in a heartbeat his arm was around my waist, pulling me close. His mouth was on mine, soft but insistent, and if I might have had any objections to what he was doing, I couldn’t think of them at that moment.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and returned his kisses eagerly, a little overwhelmed by the rush of desire that was running from him and through me like an electrical current. His hands slid down the curve of my ass, cupping it and pulling me close to him, and I could feel his hardness against me. He gathered up the hem of my short, khaki skirt and ran his hands over my bare skin, sliding his hands inside my panties and kneading the warm, soft flesh.

I moaned a little in the back of my throat, enjoying his caresses and his obvious need for me. It stopped him short, and he pulled his mouth from mine, leaning back and looking into my eyes. He looked like he was about to say something, and then perhaps thought better of it, choosing instead to kiss me again, opening his mouth and seeking my tongue with his.

I was melting like a dish of ice cream left out on the counter, not that I would ever do that. I’m nothing if not a conscientious employee. Well, except for the whole having-sex-with-random-men-after-hours-on-the-counters thing.

The boss’ desk was right next to the side door and I leaned against it, my skirt sliding up as he pressed close to me, exploring all the soft curves of my body. My breath caught in my chest when his hands found my breasts. He murmured appreciatively as he scooped up warm, soft handfuls through the slightly sticky cotton of my t-shirt. “So nice,” he said softly.

“Would you like to see?” I asked, my voice almost a whisper.

“God, yes,” he replied, and I smiled and raised my arms over my head, allowing him to pull my shirt off. I leaned back on the desk, thrusting my breasts forward for him. He stroked the soft flesh where it swelled out over the pink, polka-dot satin cups, making me shiver slightly with excitement. He hooked his fingers inside the smooth fabric and pulled them down, allowing my tits to spill out and hang free and full. He ran his hands over them, obviously enjoying himself.

“You like?” I asked.

He nodded. “Very much.”

“Show me,” I replied.

I watched as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid the zipper down. His cock bulged in the opening, snug under the white cotton of his underwear and seeking an escape just under the elastic of the waistband. I ran my hand over the hard, warm outline of his erection, brushing my finger against the hot, throbbing head. It leapt at my touch and I smiled, stroking it gently through the slightly damp fabric.

“I need you,” he said softly, looking into my eyes.

“Take me,” I replied, pulling his cock free of his pants. I wrapped my hands around the warm, hard flesh and stroked him, making him moan anew. He slid his hands up my skirt and pulled my panties to the side, seeking my hard clit with his fingertips. I shuddered as he made contact, gasping with pleasure. He sought my opening, sliding his fingers easily into my tight, hot cunt. I moaned and bit my lip, raising my hips to urge him deeper inside me.

His arm slid around my waist as he pulled me to him, and I felt his cock hot and hard against my pussy. “Wait!” I said, even though every fiber of my being was screaming “Fuck me!” at the top of its lungs. He stopped, breathing hard and pulling away slightly. I exhaled, and scrambled around behind me on the desk looking for my purse. “Condom,” was all I could manage to get out, and he nodded with sudden understanding.

He laughed a little, helping me find a little foil packet in the pile of junk I’d dumped out of my bag. “Been a long time since I’ve needed one of these,” he confessed breathlessly.

“Let me,” I said, tearing it open and rolling it smoothly over his cock, making him groan with pleasure. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him close. “Now, where were we?”

He guided the tip of his cock to my opening and pressed against me, slowly, almost hesitantly. He looked into my eyes and I watched a dark cloud of doubt cross his face that was so obvious I almost stopped him right there. The sudden sadness and compassion I felt the second I recognized it must have registered on my face as well, because like a cloud on a windy day, it slipped away as I watched him mentally shrug it off. He kissed me with renewed passion, trying to drown himself in my kisses, and God help me, I let him. I helped him.

As he breached the entrance and entered me, whatever defenses either of us might have had up a moment earlier slipped away.

He took me right there on the desk, surrounded by the gleaming stainless steel ice cream freezers and stark white walls. His need for me was urgent, and I held him close as he fucked me, driving his cock into me over and over again so hard that he lifted me off the desk with each thrust.

I knew I had ceased to be just a pretty, willing girl for him and that he was using me to tame some demons that were tormenting him–or perhaps in spite of them. There was something so desperate about the way he clung to me, his face buried in the soft curls at my neck, murmuring words I couldn’t quite hear or understand. I wanted to make him come, to bring him to the height of pleasure, to try to release him from whatever was driving him.

He felt so good inside me, his body so warm and heavy next to mine. We moved together in rhythm, my hips snapping up with each thrust, my lips against his ear urging him on with moans and whispers and sighs, begging him not to stop. I was getting so close to coming, going wild from the pressure mounting inside me. I told him what he was doing to me. “You’re going to make me cum,” I told him. “Oh God, I’m so close…don’t stop…”

I came hard, crying out as my pussy spasmed and throbbed around his cock. He put his hands on my face, looking into my eyes as I came, watching me lose control. He kept fucking me, each stroke long and deep, until I was spent. When he was sure I was satisfied, he moved faster, harder, and deeper, managing only a couple more thrusts until he came inside me, his cock swelling and exploding.

We were both breathing hard, and my legs slipped down. He pulled me close and held me, whispering, “I’m sorry. Oh, God, I’m so sorry…”

I stroked his hair and held him until I felt him soften inside me.

Gently, I reached down and eased him out, sliding the condom off. I was about to drop it into the garbage, but thought better of it. He busied himself with tucking his still sticky and half-hard cock back into his pants, and I saw him look at the used condom dangling from my fingers, and at my spent pussy, panties wet and pulled off to the side, accusing him. He stepped back, his face flush and his eyes averted and I hopped up, dropping the condom into a take-out cup and putting a few napkins in and the lid on before dropping it into the trash. Just in case.

Quickly I yanked my bra up and pulled my skirt down, and he handed me my shirt from the desk. As I turned it right side out, he spoke. “I’m sorry…” he began, but this time I stopped him.

“Don’t.” I said, gently. “Please don’t apologize.”

“I shouldn’t have…”

“Don’t be silly,” I continued, pulling my shirt back on. “Of course you should have.” I slipped my hand in his and squeezed it warmly. He looked into my eyes again and I smiled at him. “Maybe you’re ready to talk now?” I asked, and he smiled back with a sweet, embarrassed smile and nodded gratefully.

“I’d like that,” he said.

I grabbed a scoop from the sink. “Go on and sit down,” I said, flipping open the freezer lid with a bang. “I’ll buy you an ice cream.”

From “Dirty Little Secret” published in its entirety in Not Safe for Work, available at Amazon.com in paperback and for the Kindle, and at Barnes and Noble.com for the Nook.

Home, James

27 Thursday Sep 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

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adult, BDSM, chauffeur, cunnilingus, driver, erotic fiction, erotica, exhibitionism, masturbation, mature, mistress, sex, sexual literature, short story, voyeurism

This is a sequel of sorts to “Tight Security,” though it really goes off on a tangent more than it continues it. I had planned to keep spinning new stories off the old ones, but never got around to it. Maybe soon…

“Jeremy.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“It seems that very handsome young security guard just ejaculated on my window.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I will be very disappointed if his semen mars the finish.”

“Of course, Mistress. Shall I use a cloth?”

“What do you think, Jeremy.”

She watched him get out of the driver’s seat and tug on the tails of his chauffeur’s coat, putting his cap on, and shutting the door behind him. She watched as he bent and licked the congealing cum off her window, his tongue flat and pink against the gray glass.

As he worked, she spread her legs and hiked her skirt up, exposing her smooth, bare pussy. She diddled her clit lightly, feeling it spring to attention and smiled. Her cunt grew slick as she played with herself, her nipples hard and straining and very visible under the lightweight silk of her couture blouse. Jeremy swallowed mouthfuls of jism, finally licking his lips and standing at attention by her window.

She rolled it down and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, stroking her hands over the nipples that peeked out of the lace edge of her shelf bra, watching her firm, full breasts jiggle and sway with every slight move. “All done, Jeremy?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Come around to the other side of the car and join me in the backseat.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Jeremy did as he was instructed and opened the back door, carefully putting his cap on the front seat and smoothing his hair before entering. She turned to face him, offering him her dripping pussy. “Would you like something to cleanse your palate, Jeremy?” she asked.

“Yes, Mistress,” he replied, his voice husky with desire. Knowing he wanted her, wanted to please her, sent a thrill coursing through her lithe frame and she shuddered despite herself.

“You may eat my pussy, Jeremy,” she said, and he quickly slipped to the floor beside the long bench seat. He wedged his slight frame in behind the front seat, and leaned forward, pulling her legs apart and pressing his face to her sweet, fragrant center.

She moaned as his tongue found her aching hole and she ran her hands through his dark curls, pressing his head into her cunt. He fastened his lips around her clit and sucked it, drawing it in between his teeth and applying pressure until she cried out.

“Put your fingers in me Jeremy, and make me cum,” she instructed, and he did as he was told, sliding his long fingers into her and drawing out another moan of pleasure. “Very nice,” she said, praising him as she petted his head. She closed her eyes and let Jeremy bring her to the brink of orgasm, his fingers and tongue working skillfully in all the ways she had trained him.

He knew how to hold her hips as she climaxed and how to press his lips against her to receive the copious gush of sweet, sea-funky fluid that accompanied her pleasure without letting so much as a drop touch the fine, leather seats. He swallowed her flood of juices eagerly, licking her clean until the shuddering and bucking stopped. When she lay still, she allowed him to button her blouse and straighten her skirt.

Sated, she sat up and smiled at him, still kneeling in complete supplication beside her. She raised her hand to his smooth, brown cheek and stroked it gently. “Well, done, Jeremy,” she said. “Tell me, is your cock hard?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he said, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

“How lovely,” she said. “You have my permission to step outside the car and relieve yourself,” she said. “You’ve earned it.” He nodded, still blushing, and rose. As he backed out of the car, she reminded him, “Make sure you stand right there where I can see you, and you’d better make it quick so no one sees you. Oh, and don’t forget your hat,” she finished, gesturing at the front seat.

Jeremy put his hat back on and stepped outside the car, shutting the door. Through tinted windows she smiled at his visible discomfort as he looked around nervously. He pulled his long, slender cock out and began stroking it furiously, closing his eyes and obviously concentrating on finishing the job before anyone came along.

She watched his cock bob in the air, and how his eyebrows knit together in frustration as his erection began to fail. She knew he was considering his punishment for not following her directions, and as his eyes filled with tears, she almost took pity on him for a second. Then she thought of the hours of fun she would have paddling his soft, feminine ass, fucking him with dildos for hours, and how she’d torture him to the edge of orgasm over and over until he begged for mercy.

She was so lost in the fantasy that she didn’t notice the security guard approach her car. Jeremy started suddenly and quickly tried to conceal his rapidly softening cock, but the damage had been done. This was not the young, wanton guard from before, but an older, paunchy, dough-skinned excuse for a man who was perspiring from the mere exertion of apprehending the delicate Jeremy.

She rolled down her window and addressed the security guard. “Is there a problem, Officer?” she asked.

He looked in and saw her reclining like a cat in the backseat. He tipped his hat back to reveal his receding, greasy hairline and she recoiled inwardly. “Yes, Ma’am” he replied. “I caught this pervert outside your car here.”

She smiled a cold smile. “Yes, Officer. Young Jeremy belongs to me. I apologize if he’s been a bother. I promise you he won’t get away with this…abomination.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” he said, his eyes raking over her form. “I have to call this in to the local precinct. You’ll be able to pick him up in about 6 hours, after his arraignment.”

She sighed. “Very well.” Jeremy looked panic-stricken. “Jeremy, dear. Please be on your best behavior, just like I taught you. Do everything this nice officer tells you, and I’ll see you in a little while. Make me proud.” Jeremy blinked away a tear and nodded. “That’s a good boy.” She rolled up the window and watched as the fat guard led the winsome Jeremy away. She fished her cell phone out of her bag and with manicured fingers, dialed her office.

“Maria. I need a replacement driver here immediately. Yes. And call my lawyer and tell him to meet me at the local precinct for JFK. Yes, the airport, Maria.”

She ended the call with a gentle beep and waited for Jeremy’s replacement.

Tight Security

25 Tuesday Sep 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

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adult, erotic fiction, erotica, exhibitionism, masturbation, mature, parking garage, public sex, security guard, sex, short story, voyeurism

So I had been out of work for what seemed like for-fucking-ever when I finally landed a job at JFK as a security guard in the parking structures. It’s not the best job in the world, but it’s a steady paycheck and it’s not like the work is hard. It’s a lot of walking around and keeping an eye out for suspicious activity. Of course anyone planning on doing anything bad is already suspicious himself, so he’s not doing it when I get there, but whatever, man. I don’t care. Money is money at this point.

The other guys who’ve been doing this a lot longer have some fucking ridiculous stories about the stuff they’ve caught people doing in the parking garage. Hot stuff, too. Seriously fucked up shit, in fact; but then if you could actually managed to get it up in that cold, gray concrete car zoo that smells like piss and exhaust fumes, you’d have to be a freak.

At least that’s what I thought up until last week.

I’m walking around, doing my usual rounds, and not seeing much of anything going on. It was chilly that day, it had been drizzling most of the morning so the wet tires were squealing more than usual as they turned the corners. If you’ve ever been in a parking garage on a wet day, you know what I mean. It sounds like someone’s stepping on a cat, and after awhile, it’s all you can hear.

The noise must be the reason I didn’t hear them at first, or why they didn’t hear me coming. I turned the corner and saw a guy out there with his lady friend. Her eyes were closed and her head was back, and at first I couldn’t quite see what was going on. But I got a step closer and caught sight of one luscious, creamy tit hanging out there in the cold. The guy leaned close and took that sweet, hard nipple in his mouth and I was all, “HELLO.”

Now, I knew I should get in there and break it up. As soon as I knew what they were up to, I should have stopped it. But her face was so beautiful. Her mouth was open slightly and she was breathing hard, and she would lick her lips making them red and shiny. I could tell that she was so turned on that she didn’t care who was looking, and before I knew it, I was rock hard. My cock was straining against my zipper and I had to reach down and adjust a bit.

I know it’s wrong, but I slipped behind one of the big, concrete support pillars and shielded myself behind a nearby Suburban. I watched the guy as he slipped a hand down her pants, and I could tell just by the way she squirmed and moaned that he found her clit and was going to town on it. He was fingering her like a violin and she was going fucking nuts.

She had her hands all over his crotch, fumbling with the button, and I have to tell you, mine throbbed in sympathy. I reached down and stroked myself through my polyester uniform pants and thought I’d cum right then and there. She was rubbing him through his pants, humping his hand, and when she opened her sweet mouth and sucked his tongue, I couldn’t stand it anymore. My mouth was dry and my cock was so hard it hurt. I went to unzip my pants and rub one out, but my nightstick banged against the side of the Suburban and made a huge, metallic bang.

Her eyes flew open and I didn’t have much of a choice at that point. I cleared my throat and walked up and hoped to hell they couldn’t see my dick was at full attention. “Everything okay over here?” I asked, trying to look imposing and not like a kid in a costume with a raging boner.

It must have worked, because he turned around, yanking his hands out of her cunt so fast I could see her pussy juice still shining on his fingers. He yanked the tails of his flannel shirt down and stuffed his hands in his pockets, but I could see that he was as hard as I was, and his cock was at least as big. When I looked up, the girl had zipped her pants and I caught sight of that beautiful, big tit as it disappeared inside her sweater. She was blushing and shaking a little and in my mind I could see how hot she’d be wrapped around my cock, her legs tight around my waist as I drilled her up against her boyfriend’s truck. Her tits would be bouncing around and she’d scream my name as she came…

I shook my head and stammered something about them having to do that somewhere else, and they nodded guiltily. I think she even called me “sir.” I walked away, but I had to look back over my shoulder. She looked every bit as hot as she had before I’d interrupted and I hoped they’d take their chances and finish up, but they caught me looking and got into his truck.

I heard them leave, and I knew they were off the floor when the tires of his truck cat-squealed on the wet concrete. I stopped walking and leaned against a minivan to catch my breath and compose myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I was that turned on. My dick felt ready to explode.

I looked around quickly, and seeing no one, I slipped between the van and a black sedan and unzipped my pants. I pulled my cock out and grabbed it, stroking it hard. “Oh God,” I said, and my voice echoed and bounced around the cars in the enclosure. I bit my lip and ran my hand through the spunk that was already drooling out of the tip and started milking my cock for all it was worth. Every shriek of tires made me jump a little and I hammered away at my dick, scared of being caught, scared of losing my job, scared of being arrested for indecent exposure, but nowhere near scared enough to stop.

I came harder than I ever had before. My balls tightened up in the cold air of the garage and I had to lean on the car so that my legs wouldn’t give out under me. My cum shot out in long, white curving arcs and splattered on the tinted windows of the shiny black car. “Oh, God,” I said again, both from the exquisite, throbbing, pounding release of my orgasm and because I realized I’d left slimy gobs of my DNA all over a brand new Mercedes.

Embarrassed and ashamed, and not having anything to clean it up with, I tucked my sticky, still-hard cock back in my pants and got the hell out of there as fast as I could, looking all around and hoping no one saw me.

I didn’t think to check inside the car, though. And in this story, that’s where the fine line between really bad luck and fortunate accident is.

In the Stacks

23 Sunday Sep 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

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bisexual, cunnilingus, erotic fiction, erotica, flirting, lesbian, lesbian erotica, librarian, library, oral sex, public sex, sex, sexual literature

In a cool, softly lit corner of the adult fiction section, Lauren slid a plastic-covered murder mystery into its spot, reading the shelf and adjusting a couple of misplaced volumes back into their proper order. She ran her hand along the fine grain of the antique oak shelf as she crossed to the window and leaned against the sill. Squinting against the summer sun that streamed in through the tall windows, she watched as a patron walked past the whitewashed clapboards of the Town Hall and crossed the flag-lined main street to the front walk of the library. Her crocheted cotton bag bulged with borrowed books, and Lauren smiled, her heart skipping a beat as she smoothed her skirt and stood. Alana’s visit was always a highlight of Lauren’s week, not just because it offered a respite in the long stretch of weekday afternoon quiet, but because seeing Alana would have been a highlight under any circumstance.

The heavy door swung open and Alana came in, dropping her heavy books on the circulation desk with a dull thud. “Man,” she said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, “It got hot out there today. I’m sweating like a whore in church.” She looked at Lauren in her simple skirt and light summer sweater, “Damn it, woman, how is it you always manage to look all elegant and put together and shit and I always look like an unmade bed?” Lauren felt her nipples harden as Alana appraised her form. “I like the outfit,” she said, smiling. “You got the whole ‘sexy librarian’ thing working for you today.”

Lauren felt a warmth spread from inside her blossom on her cheeks. The way Alana looked at her made her feel both unsettled and aroused. She had an intensity that Lauren was drawn to, yet at the same time she found it a little intimidating, and truth be told, frightening. She knew Alana had no qualms about sleeping with women. She knew Alana had no qualms about sleeping with anyone, in fact, since she was currently dating both her male yoga instructor and her the woman who was the promoter of her indie band.

It was that intensity that drew her, and the unrestrained and unabashed way Alana flirted with her. Lauren had never been attracted sexually to another woman before, but always felt like it was only because in her conservative upbringing in small town New England she may have missed the memo that it was okay to want to kiss a girl. Because she did want to. And badly.

In the back of her mind she still felt like she might be playing with fire, but as Alana moved around the small library checking out the new arrivals and poking through the new magazines, Lauren decided she liked the warmth.

“Oh, come on,” Lauren countered, “you know you’re gorgeous. And you always look great. Even on a day like today you look cool and comfortable.” Lauren loved the way Alana’s long violet skirt flowed and swirled around her bare legs and how the small silver ghunghru bells tied around her ankle tinkled as she walked. Her sleeveless shirt was hand painted and low cut in the front and Lauren could see the fine sheen of perspiration on her sun-kissed cleavage. It was obvious that she’d decided to forego a bra for the day, opting instead to let her large breasts bounce freely under her light top. Her long, shiny hair was caught up off her neck in a loose twist and secured with a couple of carved hair sticks and the fine, curly tendrils that escaped stuck to her damp skin and Lauren swallowed hard, wondering what it would be like to kiss her there. She was standing close enough to touch her, to smell the subtle aroma of nag champa and warm, moist places.

As she pressed her lips to the soft nape of her neck, she felt Alana’s breath catch in her throat. Her skin was salty and warm and she felt goosebumps rise under her gentle touch. Alana exhaled softly, and Lauren heard the copy of Yoga Weekly she’d been thumbing through thud clumsily against the magazine rack and flutter to the floor. Feeling bolder, she slipped her hands over Alana’s hips, wrapping around her and pulling her closer.

Alana’s hands were on hers, warm and dry, halting their movement, but not pulling away. “Not that it’s unwelcome,” Alana said, tipping her head back and arching her long neck, “but this is kind of a surprise.”

Lauren smiled nervously. “I know. I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away, but Alana held firm to her hands.

“Are you?” she said, turning and sliding a hand around Lauren’s waist. Alana’s fingertips brushed lightly over the curve of her ass pulling her close until their bodies were touching and their faces were mere inches apart. Lauren shuddered, goosebumps rising on her arms.

“No,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not.”

“Good,” Alana said. “Neither am I.” Lauren felt her knees go weak as Alana kissed her. Her lips were soft and inviting, not insistent, but offering, and Lauren accepted, tentatively at first, and then with increasing desire as any hesitation she may have harbored fell away.

Alana’s hands were twined in her hair, pulling her closer still, devouring her. Lauren leaned back and found herself pressed against the long, oak reading table. She leaned on it, reaching for Alana and feeling her large, natural breasts through the thin cotton of her top. In the dim, lusty recesses of her mind, she felt a fleeting recognition that it was right, that the curves of a woman felt natural in her hands, and as the cognizant thought slipped away, she cupped the soft globes and sought Alana’s hard nipples through the fabric.

Alana moaned and pulled her lips away from Lauren’s. “Damn, girl,” she panted. “You’re killing me. I’m ready to take you right here in the public library.”

Lauren looked at her watch and smiled. “Hold that thought.” She crossed quickly to the front door and turned the heavy brass bolt and snapped off the banks of lights. “Now we’re closed,” she said, crossing back to where Alana leaned against one of the heavy shelves. “It’s a tad early, but no one will probably be in anyway. It’s too nice out and on a day like this…”

Her thoughts were interrupted by Alana’s mouth on hers, more insistent this time, with an intensity that took Lauren’s breath away. Again, she found herself against the big table, leaning back on her hands. Deftly, Alana worked the small buttons on her cardigan, popping them open quickly and letting it fall open. Her breasts were heaving with desire and she could see her own nipples large and hard through the thin lace bra. Alana ran her hands over the hard brown points so clearly visible under the white lace and pinched them lightly, making Lauren moan anew.

Alana pulled the cups down and let Lauren’s small, perky breasts spring free. She leaned down and took one of the quivering nipples in her mouth and sucked it, smiling as Lauren gasped at the sudden, swift pleasure of it. She could feel Alana’s hands on her thighs, seeking the hem of her skirt and gathering it in her hands, pulling it up and exposing the tops of her stockings.

When Alana’s hand made contact with the garter clasp that held her stockings up, she looked up so suddenly that Lauren’s nipple popped out of her mouth with a jiggle and a bounce. “Oh, this is amazing,” Alana said, sliding Lauren’s skirt up around her waist. The white satin and lace of her garter belt lay against her tanned skin in high relief, and the lace of her panties was already visibly moist between the soft curves of her thighs.

“It’s…well, more practical in summer,” Lauren started to explain, but Alana’s fingers pressed against the crotch of her panties made the rest of her thought go out of her head. She spread her legs, letting Alana touch her through the lace, leaning back as Alana’s mouth again found her nipples and drew on them with long, hard sucks. Alana tugged the panties, pulling them up between her lips and rubbing them against her hard clit.

She kissed a trail down Lauren’s midriff, past her flat, tanned tummy and the bunched up fabric of her skirt. Swiftly, she pulled the crotch of her panties aside and pressed her face into Lauren’s neatly trimmed nest of dark curls. Lauren moaned and lay back on the table, sliding back and raising her knees, allowing her legs to fall apart as Alana’s tongue plunged inside her.

Lauren could feel her own juices flowing as Alana worked her tongue over and inside every inch of her aching cunt. She moaned as two fingers filled her, sliding in and out while Alana wrapped her lips around her hard clit and sucked the hard little pearl, making her writhe and squirm atop the hard table top. She could feel the knot that had been building and tightening inside her begin to unravel, even as in the distance she could hear kids’ voices shouting from the outside, laughing as they crossed the town green to enter the library through the downstairs children’s room.

She knew she should push Alana away, make her stop, but it was too late, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out as her powerful orgasm spilled out of her, washing through her pussy and making her whole body buck and shudder. She tried to sit up, to grab her sweater and cover herself, but Alana wasn’t stopping, and wave after wave of pleasure continued to course through her. She was laughing and panting, begging Alana to stop in a low, frantic voice as she heard the sleigh bells jangle against the heavy back door and the sound of kids’ voices being hushed as they entered the cool silence of the library.

Alana stood quickly, raising the hem of her skirt and wiping her mouth while Alana pulled her own skirt back into place and re-did the buttons of her sweater with shaking hands. Alana brushed a stray lock of hair out of Lauren’s eyes and kissed her, letting Lauren taste her own muskiness. Lauren sighed and reluctantly let Alana slip away, trying to compose her face into a some semblance of professionalism as the children’s feet clamored up the stairs. She snapped on the lights and unlocked the door and while Alana thumbed through the yoga magazine she’d picked up from where she dropped it, she settled herself behind the circulation desk and began checking in books.

In Him

20 Thursday Sep 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

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adult, anal sex, analingus, blowjob, cunnilingus, dildo, erotic fiction, erotica, feeldoe, fellatio, love, lust, mature, pegging, sex, stroke piece

The candles flickered and danced, casting light and shadow over her flawlessly smooth skin. Her bare legs were spread slightly as she knelt next to him, her plump thighs creamy in the amber glow. He ran his fingers lightly through the damp tangle of curls, teasing her with a whisper soft touch, watching as her full hips thrust to meet his hand, seeking greater contact and sighing as he withdrew.

She took his cock in her hand and stroked it lightly, her touch as soft as his, her teasing deliberate and slow. She lowered her mouth to him, pressing her lips against his cock. He breathed in deeply as she parted her lips with a soft click and flicked her tongue over the tender tip. The hard points of her nipples grazed his skin, making the hairs rise wherever she touched.

She took him into her mouth, wetting his cock and stroking the shaft with her hand. He ran his hands through her silken hair and tugged gently, making her moan and take him deeper. His hips thrust against her, fucking her willing mouth. He felt her hand slide softly over his balls, high and tight against his body, and her sharp nails rake through his thick hair and scratch seductively over the soft skin. He spread his legs slightly, inhaling sharply again as her strong fingers slid past his balls and over his ass, following the natural curve of his body to the sensitive, tight opening of his ass. Her cool finger pressed against him, massaging the sensitive spot. He spread his legs wider, submissive beneath her, watching as her head bobbed, her blue eyes looking up into his.

She drew her mouth up the length of him, letting the head go with a pop and with a knowing smile, ran her tongue down the length of his slippery shaft. He moaned at the feeling of her mouth pressed against his balls, feeling a shiver go up his spine as her warm breath stirred the thick hair at the base of his cock. She nuzzled him, kissing him, running her lips and tongue over him, nipping at him gently and making him squirm anew.

She pushed his legs apart and back and ran her tongue over his asshole. A shudder of pleasure coursed through him as her strong, slick tongue breached his opening and slid inside him. He grabbed the bed clothes, clenching the sheets in his fists as she probed him deeply, fucking his ass with her tongue. Her hand was firm on his cock, stroking him with deep even strokes that matched her busy mouth, and when she pressed her lips against him and sucked, he exhaled deeply, the only words he was able to manage was a breathless “Oh, baby…”

He wanted more.

She knelt between his legs and leaned into him. Her belly and breasts pressed against him and he ran his hands over every square inch of her. She stretched out beneath his busy hands as she reached for the drawer of the nightstand. He turned his head to see what she was retrieving, and when he saw the dildo grasped her fist, he felt his cock twitch with anticipation.

She slid back on her heels, running her lips along the length of his body, depositing kisses here and there, paying a bit of sweet attention to his already-bursting cock before leaning back and parting her thighs. She held the dildo like a cock—firmly, jutting away from her pelvis. The base curved upwards and flared into a thick, tapered bulb. She looked into his eyes and pressed the bulb against her pussy, parting the plump lips and sliding it against her aching clit. She teased herself with it, opening her legs wider so that he could see the deep pink inner folds shining with her own desire and passion.

The base slipped in easily and he watched as her cunt was filled with the thick base, spreading his legs unconsciously in anticipation as she held the long shaft that curved up from her curly nest of hair, looking so very much like a real cock. She stroked it like it was part of her, and he knew that with every move of her hand, the thick base moved deep inside her, and the ridges on the inside of the curve were rubbing against her hard clit. Without taking his eyes off her, he reached in the drawer and handed her a small bottle of lube. She smiled and let a slippery drizzle of it run over her fingers and the end of her cock.

Again, she stroked the dildo, making it shine, fucking herself with it. Her breath quickened, and she reached down with a shining hand and ran it over his ass. Her slick middle finger slipped easily inside him, making him moan. He brought his hips up to meet her hand, watching as a thick, milky gob of pre-cum oozed from the tip and caught in his hair.

She added a finger, widening him further, not satisfying him but making him ache to be filled completely. She stroked him slowly and deeply, seeing his need grow. His cock was purple and throbbing and he was afraid she was going to make him cum just like that. He needed that cock inside him, so he pleaded with her.

“Fuck me.”

She slid her fingers out of his ass and leaned forward, guiding the head of her cock to his ass. Her full breasts swayed as she teased his ass with the head, pressing against the tight hole and easing the head past the strong muscles.

He groaned as she spread him wide, opening his ass and filling it with inch after inch of hard cock. Her hands were on his thighs, holding him firmly as she entered him, sinking into him deeply, not stopping until he could feel her pubic curls against his ass. Again, he pleaded with her, needing to be fucked, wanting to see her tits bounce as she thrust against him.

“Fuck me, baby.”

Slowly she pulled out, letting him feel every delicious inch. The pleasure showed on her face as she moved; her cheeks were flushed and her breath was coming faster. She leaned in, easier this time as the dildo filled his ass. Her hips set a steady motion, thrusting into him, her smooth skin meeting his with a muffled slap. Slap. Slap.

He reached down and grabbed his cock, hard and hot in his hand. His fingers stroked the sensitive skin near the head furiously as her speed increased. Her tits swayed and bounced with every thrust. She pushed his legs further apart, drilling into him as deeply as she could go.

He felt his body crescendo and with a soft grunt of pleasure, he reached his peak. The cum boiled up from his balls and spurted out in hot jets, shooting over his stomach and chest, and he exhaled deeply as she stopped moving, allowing his body to process the bliss coursing through him.

Gently, she pulled out, feeling him shudder with spent pleasure. She leaned back and eased the dildo out of her cunt and standing, walked up the bed and straddled his face. Greedily he pulled her to him, burying his face in her wet pussy, sucking and licking at it, making her buck and writhe. He held her hips and focused on her pleasure, working her hard clit like a tiny cock, using his tongue inside her in the way he knew she liked best.

Her juices ran down his chin and he felt a thin trickle make its way down his neck. She grabbed the headboard and cried out as he made her cum, swallowing hard and fast to keep up with her. She slumped beside him, spent and panting, and kissed the lips that were still shining and musky with her juices.

“Thank you, babe,” he said.

“I love you,” she replied.

The Next Morning

19 Wednesday Sep 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

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adult, erotic fiction, erotica, lesbian, lesbian erotica, loss, love, lust, mature, sex, sexual literature, short story, shower

This is a sequel to the short story, “In Ms. B’s Bunk“.

“Do you really have to leave?”

Her head peeked around the shower curtain and she smiled at me, her eyes still heavy-lidded from lack of sleep. Her bed-tousled hair was sexy and I wanted to run my hands through it, pulling her close again, feeling her lips on mine. But the drive was a long one, and I was late getting started as it was.

“Unfortunately,” I replied, closing my eyes and tipping my face into the spray, letting the hot water soak my hair and wash the sleep out of my foggy, fuzzy brain. The curtain fell back into place with a wet whisper and I heard the splash of her feet on the tub floor behind me. In an instant, her arms were around me, holding me close, her soft, warm body pressed tightly to mine.

Her hands flitted over my skin, cupping my breasts and tugging gently at the nipples that had grown hard at the sound of her voice. My body had already learned how to respond to her, trained over hours of touching, stroking and kneading. I melted into her, unable and unwilling to resist the touch of her bare skin on mine. Her lips were soft on my shoulder, kissing me in a trail soft as butterfly footprints to my neck, to the sensitive spot behind my earlobe that made shivers run up and down my spine all night long. “It’s going to be awhile before you can come back,” she reminded me in a low voice, her breath warm on my ear.

It was going to be a long time before I would feel her knowing hands on my body again, a long time before I’d hear her soft voice whispering sweet, sexy, dirty words in my ear. It would be a long time before I would feel her precious lips on mine, make her nipple grow hard in my mouth, taste the musky sweetness of her pussy on my tongue. It made my heart ache, and my clit burn.

The snap of a plastic bottle opening brought me back to reality, and I breathed deeply the smell of coconut as her strong fingers worked the shampoo into a thick lather and massaged my scalp. I leaned my head back, letting her wash my hair. Life was so easy with her in control. Part of me wanted to stay and let her take care of me, but there were kids at home who needed me, babies who needed their hair washed, and a husband expecting to put his hands where hers had been. There were people who needed me to take care of them.

The soap ran down my body in thick, white streams, making my skin slick and slippery. She turned me around and I tipped my head back into the spray, closing my eyes against the stinging lather. Her hands were on me again, sliding around the curves of my ass and pulling me close to her. Her soft breasts pressed against mine and I grabbed them hungrily.

Right now she needed me, and for the moment, I was hers.

I gave into the desire. I ran my hands through her hair, feeling it silky between my fingers, pulling her mouth to mine. I tasted her hungrily. In her soft lips still swollen from lovemaking and in her searching tongue, all the passion we had shared, and all the pent-up longing and long-distance teasing before that, and the sweet ache of not knowing when she would be mine again mingled in pulsing currents between us.

I slid my hand between her legs and parted her lips, stroking her clit. She was so ready for me. I pressed her against the shower wall, letting the hot water wash over our bodies. She was slick and tight as I slid into her, hitting her most sensitive spots and making her arch into my hand. With my free hand I played with the silver barbell through her nipple, tugging it gently and making her moan into my open mouth. “What am I going to do when you’re gone?”

I didn’t answer her with words. I didn’t know how to say that she should savor this pleasure and store it up so she could pull it out when she was feeling alone. I kissed her sweet lips and used my hands the way she’d taught me, guiding me patiently over her pleasure centers, showing me what feels good to her over and over again until we slept in each other’s arms.

I no longer needed a map. Our first time–my first time–was far behind me, and I wanted to make this beautiful woman come over and over again. Or at least one more time. I stroked my fingers inside her, curling them deep within, feeling her clench around me. Her breath was shallow and fast, and her hips jerked against me. I needed to taste her again.

I pulled my fingers out of her and she sighed, opening her eyes, waiting breathlessly for me.

I put them in my mouth and tasted her, and she groaned as I smiled.

I knelt before her, running my hands over her curves, trying to memorize every inch of her soft, precious skin. I teased the little nest of curls between her legs, watching intently as she spread her legs for me and put one foot up on the side of the tub. Her shiny pink slit parted, and the silver loop through her plump nether lip beckoning to me. I kissed it and felt her shudder, and I let my lips linger on her sensitive clit for just a minute, before parting the rosy folds with my tongue and tasted her in earnest.

Her hands were on my head, caressing me as I sucked her sweet pussy, licking it, stroking her hard, berry-like clit with my flattened tongue. She was moaning with every breath, pressing me to her, coming too quickly.

I slid my fingers back inside her and she groaned. “Just let go, baby,” I told her, working her cunt hard, probing her deeply. My tongue and lips danced on the center of her pleasure, recalling her gentle direction and no longer needing it. She was mine, and I was going to make her come, make her tremble in my hands and hold her as she spiraled out of control, if only for a blessedly brief time.

My own cunt was swollen with desire and my clit throbbed painfully. I pressed my thighs together, the taste of her juices running over my tongue and down my arm bringing me to the edge. I needed to feel her come for me first. I slipped a third finger inside her, spreading her wider and making her moan and thrust against me again.

“I don’t want to,” she said, her voice husky with desire, shaking her head side to side, even as her hands urged me to continue. “I don’t want it to end.” But it was too late. Her last word dissolved into a cry as she came, her cunt spasming around my finger. Deep contractions and a warm gush of fluid in my mouth, hands in my hair, her leg around my shoulders, pulling me into her center.

Her eyes flashed under heavy lids, and I stood, but she turned away from my kiss. “Don’t,” I said, cupping her chin in my hand and kissing her, letting her taste herself on my lips. Her tears were salty as they fell and I kissed them away. “It’s not forever,” I said, holding her close, letting the water wash over us. “This is just the beginning of our story, love.”

Eros and the Muse

Category Archives: Uncategorized

From “Deployed”

Cleanup in Aisle Three

I’m Coming Out

From “Deflowered”

From “Dirty Little Secret”

Home, James

Tight Security

In the Stacks

In Him

The Next Morning