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Eros and the Muse

Eros and the Muse

Tag Archives: erotic fiction

From “Photo Finish”

11 Thursday Oct 2012

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adult, blowjob, erotic fiction, erotica, fellatio, fingering, first time, mature, Not Safe for Work, sex, short story, virgin, writing

This excerpt is from “Photo Finish” from my anthology of short fiction called Not Safe for Work. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. In this story, our innocent but willing heroine is being seduced by one sexy bastard. 

*****

He slid his hand up her back, under her long, dark hair to the bare skin of her neck. Her eyes closed and she exhaled as he ran his hands over the soft spot, goosebumps rising on her arms. “You’re really beautiful,” he said in a low voice, leaning in to nuzzle gently on her ear. “I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

She turned and sought his mouth hungrily, her sweet, full lips open and seeking his. He kissed her passionately, letting his lips tease hers and seeking her tongue with his own. “You’re making it very hard for me to be professional,” he said, his voice a half-whisper between kisses.

He felt her hand slide down between his legs and feel for him, and he shifted his hips so that his erection was more prominent. He moaned softly as her hands caressed him through his jeans. He ran a hand over one of her full breasts, cupping it gently and running his thumb over her hard nipple. It was her turn to moan as he skillfully manipulated the hard point, causing her to squirm in her seat and increase her fumblings in his crotch.

She managed to get his button open and was tugging at his zipper. His cock jerked with anticipation at her touch, and he forced himself to concentrate on her and not yank her inexperienced hands out of the way. He wanted to sigh with relief when he felt the zipper finally give way. Her hand was on him, grasping his shaft through his underwear. He put his hand on top of hers and looked into her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, not meaning a word of it.

“I want to,” she said, her voice husky with desire.

He smiled. “I just hope you’re not disappointed.”

Eagerly, Andie freed his cock from its cotton restraint. As her hands slipped around his cock and stroked him, he moaned with pleasure, half at the delightful sensation of feeling a beautiful woman stroking his rod, and in part at how ridiculously well the “I hope I’m big enough to satisfy you” gambit always worked.

He continued to kiss her and fondle her breasts, slipping his hand up under her shirt and sliding her big tits out of her bra. He pulled on her sensitive nipples, making her moan in a most satisfying way. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” he said, his voice playfully light. “Because you’re driving me absolutely wild.”

Andie smiled at him, the words catching in her throat as he continued kneading the soft flesh in his hands and kissing her over and over. “You’re my first.”

Eric nearly shot his load in her hands.

“I don’t really know if I’m doing this right,” she confessed, looking into his eyes.

He reassured her, first. “It feels so good, baby,” Eric said, and it wasn’t a lie.

“I want to make you…you know…” she began, haltingly.

He forced himself not to sigh or roll his eyes. Again, with the stammering. But there was plenty of time to get her to begging for his cock using all the dirtiest words she could imagine. For now, it was all about getting that sweet mouth around his dick.

Eric took her face in his hands and kissed her softly. “You’re amazing,” he said, “and your mouth is so soft. Maybe if you kissed me…down there.”

Her cheeks flushed crimson again, and for a second he thought he’d overplayed his hand. “But only if you want to,” he added. “I want this to be all about you.”

He watched her reticence crumble as she slid off her seat and knelt between his thighs. He spread them slightly and adjusted himself so that his cock was out and she could get all of it in her hands. He twined his fingers in her shiny curls, cradling her head and whispering words of encouragement. “I want you so much,” he told her as she put her lips on the swollen purple head, his throat tightening slightly at the thrill of it. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

She opened her mouth and took him in, tasting her first cock. He gently stroked her hair, fighting the urge to shove her head down onto him and fuck her mouth properly. There would be plenty of time for that, too. “Oh, baby,” he said, “it feels so good when you suck it like that.” And like magic, she responded, sucking harder and taking him deeper into her mouth. “Oh, God,” he said, meaning it.

For a novice, Andie threw herself into her first blow job with gusto. A simple murmur of direction from him–“Stroke it…yeah…oh, just like that”–and she followed, as easily as she had taken direction in front of the lens, and she was becoming as adept at giving head as she was showing her cunt for his camera. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to imagine what it would be like shooting her while they fucked. The idea alone was enough to cause the cum to boil up from his balls, and with a grunt, he shot his load into her mouth.

To her credit, she handled the unexpected mouthful of cum well, swallowing most of it and only allowing a trickle of it to escape her lips and run down her chin. When he caught his breath a bit, he scooped his arms around her waist and pulled her up onto his lap, wiping the bit of his jizz off her chin with his thumb. “That was so fantastic,” he said, nuzzling her tits and fondling her freely. “Before I take you home, I’m going to make sure you know how much I appreciate you doing that for me.”

He opened her jeans with all the practiced skill that she lacked. In one swift move, her zipper was wide open and his hand was buried inside her soaked panties, seeking her warm cunt. His fingers slipped inside her pussy, stroking her slippery clit and causing her to moan almost instantly. His mouth was on her large tits, sucking those big, rosy nipples and teasing them in his teeth. She humped against his hand, rubbing herself on him like a bitch in heat, and he fingered her skillfully, his fingers working her slit the way he’d worked so many before her.

He pressed his fingers deeper and deeper inside the tight confines of her pants, wriggling his fingers into her virgin tightness with every one of her thrusts. With a cry, her cunt let down a flow of hot, musky fluid over his hand as she came with her second explosive climax of the day. She shuddered around his fingers, throbbing and moaning and clutching him. “That’s right, baby,” he whispered. “Hang on to me. I’m not going to let you go.”

*****

Does Eric turn out to be her Prince Charming? You can read the whole story along with five other pieces of erotic short fiction in Not Safe for Work, available for the Kindle, the Nook, and in paperback.

From “I Am Yours”

10 Wednesday Oct 2012

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BDSM, erotic fiction, erotica, femdom, mistress, paddling, slave, spanking, strap

In “I Am Yours,” Mistress Ann’s favorite pet gets a lesson in boundaries. “I Am Yours” is published in its entirety in Not Safe for Work. 

*****

B saw G’s eyes fill with confusion as he was led away by Alice to parts of the house unknown. B knew the kind of strength and power that Alice could put behind a paddle, and his cock throbbed anew at the mere thought of her expert application of Ann’s punishments.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Ann returned to face B, standing in front of him. Her voice was low–firm, but gentle.

“You crossed a line,” she said to him again, slowly peeling the condom off and disposing of it. She ran her fingertips over the sensitive flesh, making him choke back a moan.

“I got carried away,” he said, his voice husky with desire for her. “It won’t happen again.”

She stepped closer to him and pressed her palms against his chest. He shivered at her touch, knowing that she could feel his need for her as if it was a separate entity in the room with them. “You are mine,” she reminded him, running her hand over the sensitive, raised skin of his brand. “I am not yours.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I would hate for three little words murmured in desperation to spoil a perfectly lovely relationship,” she said.

He swallowed hard, his throat feeling suddenly tight. “I won’t allow it,” he assured her. “I won’t forget my place again.”

“I will make sure you don’t,” she said, retrieving a thick, black leather strap from it’s hook on the rack. He took a deep breath, anticipating the searing pain to come. Ann reared her arm back and brought the strap down on his buttocks. He gasped, savoring the sweet sting.

Again and again, she marked his skin with the wide, thick leather strap, leaving deep red welts that criss-crossed his ass and thighs. His flesh burned, the pain increasing exponentially as she struck him, the pleasure mingling with each stroke. His moans turned to cries, incoherent and involuntary ejaculations that rose in volume and intensity.

When she finally stopped, he let his weight sag against his restraints. His ass was on fire and his breath was coming out in ragged gasps. Ann crossed in front of him and held the leather strap up to his lips. Gratefully, he kissed it, and gently, she wiped a tear off his cheek with her thumb.

*****

If you’d like to read more, Not Safe for Work is available for the Kindle, in paperback, and for the Nook. 

From “Pottery Yarn”

09 Tuesday Oct 2012

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adult, blowjob, Cougars and Jackals, erotic fiction, erotica, excerpt, fellatio, mature, Not Safe for Work, oral sex, roommates, sex, short story

This is an excerpt from the story “Pottery Yarn”. It’s published in its entire long form in Not Safe for Work–a collection of my short stories–and in a shorter version in Cougars and Jackals, an anthology of short stories by different authors. Both are available at Amazon.com.

*****

His cock was hard and hot between her legs, and she could feel the heat of him through their clothes. Her own pussy was throbbing as she rubbed her clit against him and he moaned a little in the back of his throat. She leaned down and kissed him again, thrilled by the sensation of his big hands sliding over the soft curves of her ass.

She slithered down the front of him, running her hands over his body and kneeling between his thighs. With a flick of her fingers, she popped the button of his jeans open and slid the zipper down slowly, letting her fingertip wander inside and stroke him gently through the soft cotton of his shorts. His cock jumped at her touch. She put her lips to the soft cloth and teased him still more, opening her mouth and taking the head between her teeth.

He gasped with pleasure when she slipped her fingers in the waistband of his underwear and slid them down, exposing his cock. She ran a finger down its length and he shuddered, his hips rising off the cushions in an effort to capture more of her touch, but she withdrew. “Down, big fella,” she teased and with a groan, he relaxed and sank back into the cushions. She lowered her lips to the purple head of his cock and kissed it softly.

She opened his fly all the way and freed his balls, cupping their weight in her hands and running her nails across the sensitive skin. Again, she wrapped her hand around him, letting him throb hotly in her grasp.

She lowered her lips to the purple head and kissed it with a touch as light as a feather. He moaned. She kissed it again, applying more pressure and letting her lips linger on the hot skin for a moment. He moaned again. She kissed it a third time, parting her lips slightly as if she were going to take him in her mouth, only to stop and draw out the anticipation at the last minute.

She tasted his precum, salty and slick. She looked up at him and licked her lips; then, still keeping his eyes locked with hers, she licked the shiny drop off the head, causing him to moan for a third time.

She kissed the head again, then lower, and lower still, leaving a trail of kisses down the hard shaft. She nestled her face in his balls, licking him there and sucking the loose, tender skin of his scrotum. She nipped at him lightly with her teeth, making him squirm—anticipating a pain that never quite came.

His cock bobbed in the air, eager for her touch. She started at the base and licked up the shaft, running her tongue up the whole length, enjoying it as if it were her favorite flavor lollipop. Again, she pressed her lips against the soft, swollen head and opened her mouth slightly. And again, she looked up and sought eye contact. As he watched, she took him into her mouth. Slowly, he was engulfed, his cock disappearing by inches into the warm wetness.

As he lay back and closed his eyes, surrendering to the pleasure, she turned her full attention to giving that pleasure. She took as much of him in as she could before letting him slide back out, wetting his cock and making it slick with her saliva. She grasped the base of the shaft firmly with one hand and while the other stroked and fondled his balls, she slowly and deliberately sucked his cock.

She slid it in and out smoothly, pleasuring the head with her mouth while her hands stimulated the rest. He grabbed the edge of the couch cushion beneath him until his knuckles turned white as she fucked him with her mouth. He was moaning often now, and his hips squirmed uncontrollably beneath her. Her rhythm was even, her touch firm, and he could feel the pressure mounting deep inside him. He thrust his hips slightly with each of her strokes—a movement that made her smile inwardly as she could feel his orgasm approaching.

His mouth was open and his breathing was fast and shallow, and his cock was hot and hard as steel in her mouth. In a half whisper, he gasped, “I’m getting close…I’m going to come…”

She didn’t stop, she only looked up at him, and as he opened his eyes and looked at her, she made a noise of assent: a low, throaty hum that told him she knew he was going to come—and soon—and she was ready, willing, and eager for it to happen.

He released his grip on the sofa and gently put his hands on her head, weaving his fingers in her hair. She felt his cock harden slightly, and grow thicker in her mouth. His balls tightened. She took him full length into her mouth, sucking hard as the hot jets of cum hit the back of her throat. He was shuddering at the intensity of the orgasm and the sweet sensation of her hot, sucking lips.

As the throbbing subsided and his body relaxed, she withdrew her mouth from him, sucking every inch of his spent cock, and releasing him with a kiss.

She knelt before him, watching as he caught his breath and tried to recover. He opened his eyes and looked at her, and smiled. “You are amazing,” he said, his voice deep and husky.

“I know,” she said, rising gracefully to her feet, her breasts swaying as she moved.

*****

To read more, check out Not Safe for Work available for Kindle, in paperback, and for the Nook, and Cougars and Jackals available for Kindle.

The Ten Commandments of Sex

07 Sunday Oct 2012

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adult, erotic fiction, erotica, mature, relationship advice, ReynoldsErotica, sex, ten commandments of sex, tumblr

As asked by a tumblr follower: “If you could write 10 commandments for sex, what would they be?”

 

The Ten Commandments of Sex

  1. In all things, in all times, in all places, thou shalt remember and heed these words: “NO” means “NO.” If thou art halfway to third base, if thou art married or single, verily if thou art mid-coitus, “NO” means “NO” and thou shalt stop, lest thou wishest to become a rapist. Unless perchance thou art in a relationship in which “no” means “yes”, for then thou shalt choose and employ an agreed-upon safe word in advance.
  2. Thou shalt never engage in sexual contact of any kind, even in thy mind, with persons under the legal age of consent lest ye burn in a special corner of hell.
  3. Thou shalt communicate with thy partner. Thou shalt listen to and respond to his or her needs and expectations, but also shalt thou be open and honest about thy own needs and expectations.
  4. Thou shalt not commit surprise anal, for by such acts has paradise been lost.
  5. Thou shalt not perform fellatio or cunnilingus out of rote, for both acts require enthusiasm and enjoyment by the giver to be a great treasure to the receiver.
  6. Thou shalt make and respect thy own relationship boundaries as a couple, for if thou dost not know thy limits, thou mayst not be put out when they are inadvertently crossed.
  7. Thou shalt not do anything that is distasteful to thy partner, being mindful in all things of thy partner’s tastes, preferences, and personal hang-ups.
  8. When thou hears the words, “Don’t stop,” thou shalt not stop. Thou shalt not speed up. Thou shalt not switch positions. Thou shalt not slow down. Thou shalt not do it harder. Thou shalt not do it softer. Thou shalt continue without change or variation lest thou lose the orgasm and incur the wrath or scorn of thy partner.
  9. Thou shalt not dismiss thy partners desires out of hand, for one doth not know what one likes until one tries it.
  10. Thou shalt not forbid thy partner to enjoy porn; neither shall ye make editorial comments about what one finds in thy partner’s secret porn stash, for there is little harm to be found in clown porn or urine fetishism.

    Follow me on tumblr.com @ReynoldsErotica

From “Museum Piece”

07 Sunday Oct 2012

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adult, anonymous sex, erotic fiction, erotica, excerpt, mature, Not Safe for Work, sex, short story, voyeurism, writing

This is from a story called “Museum Piece,” published in its entirety in Not Safe for Work. In this story, Laura is working late getting ready for an art gallery opening and is captivated by the sensual, erotic collection being prepared by fellow curator Christanka.

*****

The handle moved easily and the door opened silently on well-oiled hinges and she sighed, irritated that it had been left open. Suddenly, a face appeared in the door and a hand shot out towards her, clamping firmly over her mouth. She tried to scream but was so startled she couldn’t get a breath. Her eyes opened wide, and then she relaxed when she realized that she wasn’t in any danger.

He smiled at her and put a finger over his lips. She nodded and breathed deeply as he lowered his hand from her mouth. He gestured wordlessly for her to put her purse and jacket down outside the door and follow him inside. Curious, she did as he bade.

It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness, but she knew she was in the storage area immediately behind the raised display platform, and off to the left a bit. The area was curtained off by heavy velvet draperies and some of Christanka’s tapestries and hangings, and all she could see was the dim outlines of large wooden shipping crates. The only thing she could hear was her own breathing and his directly behind her as he guided her to a spot behind the curtains.

Carefully he lined her up so that she could see that there was an opening in the drapes, and despite herself, she gasped. Again, she felt his hand go over her mouth and his lips brushed against her ear. “Shhhh,” he whispered, and the feel of his warm breath on her raised goosebumps all up and down her body. And again, she nodded, and his hand slipped away, pointing through the curtain.

Christanka was nude, her long hair loose and cascading down her body. Her breasts were beautiful, high and firm, and her nipples were dark and swollen. She closed her eyes and ran her hands over her body, feeling the weight of her tits in her hands and sliding them down over her flat, tight stomach. Her fingers slipped into her tight slit and she moaned slightly, licking her lips and letting her head hang back.

She teased herself, swaying in place, letting the cascade of hair brush against her perfectly formed ass. She ran her hands back up her body, running a wet fingertip over her nipples before sucking her own juices from it, tasting her own musky essence. Smiling to herself, she opened her eyes and drank in the sight of the carved marble statue before her.

Pressing her palms together, she bowed low before it, and ascended the dais. She slithered onto the waiting body of the idol, running her soaking cunt along the huge onyx penis, wetting it thoroughly with her own juices. She lowered herself onto its very tip, taking just the head inside. She teased herself with it, riding it slowly up and down. Laura watched as inch after inch of the black cock split Christanka’s shaven pussy. She took it in all the way, effortlessly, and ground her erect clit against the nubs at the base of the cock.

Laura’s pussy burned at the sight of Christanka being filled with the giant stone phallus. She felt a hand on her waist, and arching her back slightly, she rubbed her ass against the young intern still standing behind her. She could feel his cock hard against her, and he pressed into her, his hands on her hips pulling her close.

Laura bit her lip to keep from moaning as she leaned back into him, never taking her eyes off of Christanka’s lovely form. He slid his hands up her body and cupped her large, soft breasts, rubbing and teasing her rock-hard nipples through her clothes. She ground her ass against him, reaching behind him and pulling him closer. He lowered his nips to her bare collarbone and kissed the soft, sweet skin, making her shudder.

She reached behind her, searching impatiently for his cock. From her vantage point she could see the swells of Christanka’s round, tight ass and the sight of her pussy stretching to impossible limits as it swallowed up inch after inch of hard, marble cock. Laura needed to feel that, to feel a hard cock inside her, filling her up and stretching her wide. She fumbled with his zipper, struggling to free him, and he obliged her, undoing his trouser button with a deft flick of his fingers and releasing his cock for her.

She fought back another moan when she realized how big it was, throbbing and rigid in her hand, and she squeezed it appreciatively, causing him to stifle a groan in the back of his throat as he pressed his lips to her neck.

He gathered the hem of her skirt in his hands and flipped it up, leaning her forward over the packing crates. Her hands rested on the rough wood, while she watched Christanka ride the stone statue, her hands working feverishly on her own tits. Christanka reached up and pulled her own nipples, tugging at the flesh and moaning.

Laura felt his hands at the waist of her panties and she trembled as he slid them down past her ass to the floor, where she stepped out of them and kicked them aside. She spread her legs, opening herself to him, and feeling her legs go weak as his hands slid over the soft globes of her ass. He sought her warm, wet center, stroking the engorged lips and parting them, slipping his fingers easily into her ready cunt.

Laura could do nothing but stand still and watch as Christanka rode the enormous stone tool, moaning and crying out with her building passion. She leaned back, encouraging him to go deeper into her, but he pulled his hand away with a suddenness that almost made her knees buckle.

She wanted to cry out with relief when she felt the hot, hard head of his cock against her aching hole. He teased her with it, slipping the head in between her lips, then pulling it back out, then placing it back in, just a bit further. Every time she leaned back into him, trying to get more of him inside, he’d pull away until she stopped moving. Finally, he slipped his cock inside her and she pulled away from him, causing him to slip out a little, but this time he grabbed her hips and thrust into her, filling her completely and causing her hands to slide a little on the wood crate.

*****

Not Safe for Work is available at Amazon.com for the Kindle, in paperback, and at BarnesandNoble.com for the Nook.

From “Deployed”

05 Friday Oct 2012

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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

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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.”

From “Deflowered”

01 Monday Oct 2012

Posted by Jennifer in Uncategorized

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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.

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"Two well-assorted travelers use
The highway, Eros and the muse.
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