One Night Stand… Again — Rachael LeFavre

By smartypnts1 | Published: September 2, 2010

I’m all fucked up again. I want him like a drug addict wants a fix.

I don’t think its love that keeps me coming back. This scene is a perversion of love. I’m standing in the parking lot, freezing my ass off, and deciding if I’m sane. He’s here all right, and I can’t wait to see him. My heart is racing at my deception. I wish this was my real world, I wish he was safe for me; I want him in my life. He’s just a ghost from my past that moves in and out of the shadows that my reality throws off.  It’s been a year, and I’ve fought this need for him all this time. Convenient timing allows this tryst and I’m loving my freedom to move. We communicate with caution, then with the trust of old friends. Three hours and more beers pass the time and the conversation turns to our potential future. It would be so easy to fall into the groove of the fantasy, but I know my subject matter the only way eleven years can reveal the truth behind the myths.

He is talking and I’m watching his mouth. I’m not listening really; I just want to kiss him. I drift into fantasy and I want to straddle his lap in the bar and shock the intellectuals around us. I’m biting his neck and licking his earlobes, moving my fingers through his hair, riding him and performing for everyone. He pulls off my sweater and sucks my nipples through the silk of my bra, grabbing handfuls of my hair and returning the attention to my neck. His lips are like kissing velvet, and I’m so wet from the motion of my cunt against the seam of my jeans. He is so hot from my lap dance that he picks me up and pulls off the rest of my clothes. Our audience is transfixed with our unbridled lust, and no one moves to stop us. I pull his shorts off, and lovingly nuzzle his cock and balls. I take him in my mouth, and work with a grace and movement that makes him shake and moan. The crowd is dissolving now; fade to black as the push for sweet release takes over. I suck him and feel the veins in his cock throb for my mouth. His hands are in my thick hair, pulling and making me move faster, and faster. I pull back my head and lick my lips for him. His eyes are closed and his breathing is short. He wants it from me; he needs to be inside of me now. I need him inside of me now. I position myself straddled across his hips, and sway to find the right spot. With one deliberate move he is in me, and we both moan with the familiar sensation of flesh on flesh. His arms are around my waist, and my mouth is on his neck. We’re finding a rhythm now, and the intensity is building. My fire and wetness is spilling over him, and I move to control myself from coming too quickly. He opens his eyes and we see each other now, holding on and feeling the heat between us. I let go and let myself come. He sees my release and holds on tightly. I feel him wash through my insides as we rock together quietly and so intensely.

He asks me if I’d like another, and I smile contentedly. Only then do I see he means another beer, and that my dreamtime is over. There are no shocked faces, only conversation and classical music. One more for the road, we decide, one more to go home and make the fantasy real. I would love to love him freely, with trust and respect. I’m afraid of him, I’m afraid he lies to lull me into vulnerability. I know what I’m doing though, this is my dance. I go home with him because I want to, and because it feels right. I know again what to expect, and yet it gives me a perverse pleasure to see him spinning the web for me. Maybe someday it will be right and I’ll know what he needs to be real.

____________________

This is Rachael’s second story published here on Every Night Erotica, read Indoor Sports.

Rachael Lefavre grew up on a steady, but covert diet of Erica Jong, Judy Blume (after she read Are You There God? of course) and Harold Robbins, among other pioneers of erotic fiction. After her erotic poetry was published in 2002 by the Canadian Literary magazine NASTY, she tried her hand at longer works of prose and passionate encounters. She lives and writes in the Rocky Mountain west, enjoying the beauty of the natural world, and others.

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The Candle — Kerry Lawrence

By smartypnts1 | Published: September 1, 2010

Tyler rises to his feet, and scoops Rosa up into his arms. Rosa wraps her arms around Tyler’s neck as Rosa curls closer into Tyler’s embrace. In Tyler’s eyes Rosa can see his passion for her, and his desire as it builds quickly. Tyler carries Rosa , through the house and down the stairway, to a large black door, on which the words Velvet Dungeon are inscribed. Shifting to hold Rosa securely in one arm, Tyler reaches for the key and unlocks the door. Upon entering Tyler flicks on the switch near the doorway, and the room is instantly transformed from dark space to an attractive hideaway.

In the center of the room is a raised platform bed, its canopy reaching to the ceiling. In a corner on the left, a small waterfall trickles softly as it falls into a sunken abstractly shaped hot tub. Next to the bed, a black velvet lounger rests, its darkness a startling contrast to the purple velvet of the coverlet on the bed. On their right, numerous tables and horses, too many to mention, lay quietly awaiting their use. In the center of the room stands a large curio’s type cabinet, its contents lighted by a soft interior light. Tyler lowers Rosa to stand at his side. As they gaze around the room, the memories meander back to them, and an inner light begins to glow in their eyes.

Tyler turns to Rosa softly takes her rose tinted cheeks in his hands, and kisses Rosa tenderly and deeply. Tyler again lifts Rosa, and walking forward, gently tosses her on the velvet coverlet. Rosa quickly hops off removes the counterpane, and lies back on the soft purple blanket. Tyler sits beside Rosa and reaches for the right wrist, his fingers softly tracing up Rosa’s slender arm. Rosa giggles softly as Tyler’s touch causes tiny goose bumps to rise on Rosa’s skin. Tyler reaches under the bed and removes a silk rope, with a small clasp attached at its end. Tyler snaps the clasp onto the ring in Rosa’s wrist cuff. A shiver trails down Rosa’s spine as the sound reaches her ears. Tyler turns and reaches for Rosa’s right ankle, snapping its ring and silk rope into place. Tyler slowly rises walking to the other side of the bed, and repeats the process on the left side. Tyler again reaches beneath the bed, and shin, and ties the short one between Rosa’s calf and thigh. Tyler leans back to watch as he checks that Rosa cannot straighten her leg, the ropes keeping it securely bent. Tyler steps back to Rosa’s right side and binds her right leg the same. Tyler adjust the chains under Rosa’s breast and softly pinches her nipples. Tyler unhooks the chain lying between Rosa’s soft thighs, and runs his fingers through her moist cleft. Tyler watches as Rosa’s body trembles in desire arching her hips to his finger.

Tyler leans over to the table, retrieves the lighter lying there, and lights the candles scattered around the room. The room glows with the soft light of the sea of candles. Tyler walks to the switch and turns off the lights. The candles create a soft romantic glow as they flicker in their holders. Tyler steps to the cabinet, removes Rosa’s satin blindfold, and returning to Rosa’s side, places the blindfold over her eyes. Rosa feels Tyler as he sits beside her on the bed and she hears the words he speaks to her. Tyler’s voice softens in love as he recites to Rosa. “My pet, what I am about to do to you, I do out of love for you. At any time you wish for me to stop. All you must do is speak our safe word, PURPLE. I will instantly spot once you utter it.” Rosa smiles as she answers, “Yes my Sir.”

Rosa hears Tyler light another candle. The smell of candle drifts to her senses. Then Rosa feels the first drop of molten wax as it dances down to land on Rosa’s right nipple. Rosa’s body arches and rebels at the first stinging droplet, the heat of the oil as it falls on Rosa, starting the fire to burn her soul. Again and again, in a circular pattern Tyler dribbles the oil on Rosa. Tyler’s eye gleam with desire as Rosa’s body arches with the pain of the heat on her tender nipples. Rosa’s body arches and rises as each drop singes her delicate skin. As the wax builds up slowly on Rosa’s tender skin, Tyler lowers the oil to increase the heat that Rosa receives. Tyler leans over and slowly the drips fall on Rosa’s left nipple. The fire burning in Rosa grows with intensity as her nipples quickly become coated with warm wax.

Around and around Tyler drips wax, building its coating higher and higher. Tyler watches as Rosa rises in pain, knowing that she is loving each drop as it burns gently on her skin. With each drip of the wax, the warmth races merrily through Rosa, feeding the fire growing in her soul. Tyler moves the candle down Rosa’s body, softly dribbling wax as Tyler descends Rosa’s shapely form. Tyler’s eyes glow with passion as he watches Rosa’s hips starting there mating dance. Slowly Tyler drips the wax onto Rosa’s lovely knot letting the air cool the molten wax, before it lands on Rosa. Drip drip the drops fall quickly coating the hardened peninsula of flesh. Rosa’s hips arch, and she squirms as the heat grows with intensity, as the candle lowered closer to Rosa’s skin. The wax softly spatters, to send sharp small lightening bolts to her senses. Tyler watches as the pain quickly turns to exquisite pleasure and Rosa’s moans intensify. Tyler blows out the candle, after coating her pleasure spots in their heated cocoon. The endomorphism take hold of Rosa, floating her upwards on a cotton-like cloud. Tyler reaches to the side of the bed where he hid a small vibrator from Rosa’s sight. Slowly inserting it into Rosa’s love tunnel, Tyler holds it on the mass of nerve endings that congregate there. Rosa’s body instantly tenses, and she fights to control her senses.

Using his nails, Tyler reaches up and scrapes the wax from Rosa’s right nipple. The scratching sensation makes Rosa’s blood boil. Tyler softly chuckles to himself, as he sees Rosa tension as she fights for control of her wayward body. Tyler knows Rosa will fly, without his permission, so he slowly scrapes his fingernails across Rosa’s sensitive skin, Tyler’s very touch igniting the great need Rosa feels claiming her twisting body. Tyler’s fingers lightly dance to Rosa’s left nipple, and slowly scrapes the wax away. Tyler pauses to tease and tantalize Rosa as Tyler presses the vibrator harder against Rosa. Rosa’s body is as tense as a bow string, as she struggles with a losing battle. Tyler reaches for a blunt spatula, and scrapes it across the wax encircling Rosa’s love knot. Tyler slowly strokes the vibrator deeper into Rosa and pulls it back to just its tip. Tyler forcefully slides it back over Rosa’s nerve center, holding it there as he quickly scrapes the hardened wax from her. Rosa’s body arches high and remains frozen in mid-air.

Pressing the vibrator firmly into Rosa, Tyler tells her to fly, sour among the stars. Rosa’s body shudders once, and all of her muscles tighten as she takes off on her magical flight. Higher and higher Rosa climbs, as her breathing stops and her heart races, the blood pounding through her extremities, and back to roar past her ears. All sound ceases to Rosa and the rushing blood is all that she can hear. Slowly Rosa starts to float back, and Tyler again presses the vibrator hard against her. Rosa’s body convulses as it tightens and flies up into the farthest reaches of heaven. Tyler continues to encourage Rosa to fly, until she gasps for breath. Rosa’s body trembles softly as she floats on a cloud of silken gossamer. The gasping slows and Rosa’s heartbeat quiets. Rosa is as relaxed as a hibernating teddy bear.

Tyler slides up to lie in Rosa’s embrace. Rosa loosely drapes her arms around him. Tyler kisses Rosa’s dew dampened lips, and whispers softly into her ear. “My precious little sub, your Sir loves you very much. You were such a Good Little Girl. You soared among the clouds for me.” Rosa smiles sweetly, and whimpers in exhaustion, Rosa’s eyes drifting shut. Tyler unclips Rosa’s wrists and ankles, and gathers her into his embrace, softly kissing her forehead, as Rosa lies sleeping in Tyler’s arms. Tyler’s heart swells with pride that he was the one Rosa chose to gift with her submission, and love. Tyler adjusts Rosa’s delicate body to lie next to him like a gentle lover, Tyler’s hands softly stroking Rosa as she slumbers in his embrace. Tyler feels Rosa trembling softly in her sleep, and wonders what wicked thoughts are coursing through her mind, as Tyler drifts off to join Rosa’s slumber.

___________________

This is Kerry’s second sexy story published here on Every Night Erotica, read How I Met My Wife.

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Car Wash — J. Rose Allister

By smartypnts1 | Published: August 31, 2010

I almost felt sorry for the sexy creature walking beside the queue of cars. I was such a sucker for fuck-me-now rocked shoulders and wavy, dark hair. The man had absolutely no idea what I was about to do to him.

My stomach tickled with anticipation while I watched the attendant prep the car ahead of me. He must have been new, because I would definitely have remembered that firm ass and hot pecs. A lazy smile curved up one side of my face. And here I’d thought the afternoon would involve no more than mindless errands.

While I watched muscles flex and sun glint off his hair, I reached up beneath my skirt to finger the silk thong covering my labia. I was moist for him already. Then the owner strode up to the attendant and began talking and gesturing wildly. I couldn’t make out the conversation, but the old man was obviously not pleased with my would-be sex toy’s job performance. I rolled my eyes. The owner was such an ass. Even better reason for what I had planned.

The cocky swagger of the attendant’s hips caught my attention. His gait lit my insides, but it was the smolder in his pale grey eyes that turned the pleasing dampness between my legs into a full-blown throbbing. I stroked my pussy faster. This man was sex incarnate, and I had to have him here and now.

I checked my glossy pink lips and tousle of chin-length burgundy waves in the rearview of my sports car and removed my naughty hand just as he stopped in front of my door. An impressive bulge was visible in snug jeans until he leaned down to address me. I pressed the button to lower my window.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” he said. His deep tenor sent a little thrill through my chest. “Just a wash, or can I offer you the deluxe shine and wax today?”

Oh yeah, wax me until I shine. I licked my lips. “Give me the works.”

“Will you be staying in the car, or waiting inside?”

E-Z Car Wash gave folks the option of watching the automated process through a glass window inside the store, or remaining in their cars to experience the fun firsthand. Rather than give a straight answer, I shut off the ignition and popped the door open. I stuck one smooth, bare leg out first, making sure he got an eyeful before standing up. I smoothed the black skirt that barely covered my ass and was pleased to note that even wearing my strappy black heels, Mr. Sex Attendant stood a good head taller.

Our eyes met for a moment, and I saw his expression flicker with approval. Then his gaze fell and lingered on the bold cleavage bursting from the plunging neckline of my zippered-front white top. I gave the bottom hem a quick tug for effect.

“You don’t have to turn the car off next time,” he said. I heard the slight strain in his voice. “You can leave your engine running.”

I knew it, but the little delay was part of my plan. I made sure he saw my eyes sweep pointedly over the taut lines of his body. “Trust me,” I said. “My engine is definitely running.”

I stepped aside, staying close enough so he had to brush against me to take command of my vehicle. The flare of electricity was immediate. He smelled invitingly male, too—like morning sweat and designer aftershave. I had to appreciate a man who cared enough to scent himself for a shift at the car wash.

“You know where to wait?” he asked. I nodded.

I rounded the back of the car while he situated himself behind the wheel. He no doubt assumed I would head for the store. Instead, I yanked open the passenger door and dropped into the seat beside him. He blinked in surprise with his hand frozen on the ignition key.

“Customers generally ride in the driver’s seat,” he said.

“But you’re here.” I tugged on the handle and shut my door. His side was still open, and one of his feet was still planted on the blacktop.

His smile caused a small flutter in my pulse. “Attendants just position the cars onto the track. We don’t take the ride.”

I reached over and laid a hand on his warm, hard thigh. The fiery red nails of my other hand toyed with the zipper on my shirt. “Oh, come on.” I flicked him a smoky gaze and saw his eyes were growing dark. “Take the ride.”

His Adam ’s apple bobbed visibly. “The boss won’t like it.”

My zipper eased downward a couple of dangerous inches. “But would you like it?”

He stared, hand still poised over the ignition. Then he laid it over mine. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “I would.”

His grasp was warm and sent tingles along my arm. He pulled my hand up to his crotch, where I could feel the stiff outline of what promised to be an impressive ride. My pussy began to pulse with yearning. God, how I wanted to shove that cock inside me. It was all I could do to wait until we entered the dark wash bay.

A deep groan in the back of his throat when I squeezed his thick bulge challenged my resolve. After a quick glance showed the bastard owner was stalking inside the store, a solid yank brought my zipper down until the front edges of my shirt separated.

The attendant’s eyes widened. A sexy tongue flicked out over his lips, but he stayed frozen. My patience was at an end. “Then close the damn door and take me for a ride.”

I was already working the fly of his jeans by the time he’d managed to ease the car forward onto the track. The huge erection that sprang free brought a gasp of approval from my lips. “Very nice,” I said.

Then a moment of cognizance hit, and I reached behind my seat.

“What’s that for?” he asked as I pulled a silver sunshade onto my lap.

I held the shade against the passenger side window. “I’m assuming you don’t want your boss catching the show?”

After a moment’s pause, he shook his head. “Let the dickhead watch. If you’re game.”

I was more than game. The sunshade got ditched in back.

The mechanism of the auto wash pulled us inside, and jets of water beating over the car drowned out the sound of our already ragged breathing. He yanked my top open to fully expose well rounded breasts, and the first pinch of his rough thumbs and forefingers over my pink nipples sent a shockwave straight through to my clit. I took hold of his cock—God, its stiff heat felt like heaven in my hand—and worked the shaft up and down. I wanted to bend over and lick him, plunge my head up and down and taste the salty pre-cum I felt sliding over the tip. So many things I wanted to do, but I only had time for the one that mattered most.

The man shoved his seat back as far as it would go, and I needed no further invitation. Dozens of soft rags began rubbing the car in a sensual dance, lathering the exterior with rainbow soap suds while I contorted my body over the gear box to straddle the attendant’s lap. The head of his cock strained against my crotch while I hastily shoved aside the soaking scrap of silk covering my bare-shaven slit. My breasts were in his face, and he shoved them together with both hands so he could lick both nipples simultaneously. Fuck, I loved that, and I shouted as much to let him know. Then I reached between my legs to push his cock inside me.  His thick, long girth filled me until I moaned in sweet torment, then filled me some more until I was flat against his thighs.

“Jesus, you’re so wet,” he said through gritted teeth.  “So damn hot.”

“I was wet the minute I saw you bent over the car in front of me,” I managed while I began to grind my hips against him.  “The minute I knew I wanted to fuck you.”

He swore and grabbed my ass, pumping me up and down on his cock. I reached behind me to play with his balls, but they were still encased in his jeans. His shirt was pinned down between us, so I couldn’t rake my nails over his hard chest, either. I gave a frustrated growl and settled for grabbing a hank of his hair and shoving my tongue in his hot mouth.

The spinning brushes took over, slapping the car and reminding me of the sound of a good, hot spanking. The thought of it, along with the vibration from the brushes, heightened the delicious tension already building low in my pelvis. From the corner of my eye I noticed the observation windows were coming into view. My pleasure spiked higher and I bounced faster on his cock.

“Shit, I’m ready to come,” he murmured against my neck. He let go of one of my ass cheeks and slid a hand back and forth across my sweat-slicked breasts.

I was beyond ready, and just hearing his confession sparked the first familiar pulses of ecstasy deep inside my pussy. I threw my head back, and for a brief moment was treated to several shocked expressions through the window. One face in particular was purpled with rage. My lover saw the onlookers, too, and began to jerk me even harder against his cock.

“That’s right, baby,” he ground out between whooshes of breath. “Come all over me while they watch how fucking good you are.”

I gripped the head rest behind him and cried out, flipping my middle finger up at the window. Then orgasm overtook me and I was gone, half blacked out by explosive shards of ecstasy flooding my body. He shot hot cum with animal grunts and complimentary profanity that brought me toppling over another peak.

By the time rollers and air jets were finalizing the wash cycle, I was back in my seat and we were using Wet-Naps from my glove box for a quick clean up. Both of us zipped up, still panting with exertion. In the visor mirror I saw that my cheeks were flushed Just-Fucked pink. I’d kissed off my lip gloss, too.

“I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds by shooting the bird at your boss,” I said while I reached for the purse that had fallen by my feet. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

His sexy laugh threatened to rev my motor for Round Two. “Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to flip off that asshole since I started this job last month. I’m sure it was good for him.” He shot me a molten look. “In several ways.”

Then we were thrust out into the glare of sunlight, and he took hold of the steering wheel. The boss was standing beside the exit, hands on hips and clearly waiting to deliver a death blow to his employee. When the car was free of the conveyer, the attendant pressed the brake and looked at me.

“I’m Brody, by the way,” he said.

“Angela.”

“Got any big plans for the afternoon, Angela?”

I shrugged. “Nothing the right offer couldn’t change.”

He winked.  “There’s a car wash over in Stantonville that has observation windows.”

A smile slid over my face.

Brody was the one to flip the bird this time while we screeched out of the driveway, in search of another hot wax cycle.

___________________

This is J. Rose’s second sexy story published here on Every Night Erotica, read Immortal Wine.

J. Rose Allister is an award-winning short story author and romantic/erotic novelist.  She does much of her writing in her garden or by the pool in Southern California.

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Something Sweet — Jaye Rayme

By smartypnts1 | Published: August 30, 2010

Light skin powdered to paleness, her mouth a scarlet slash as her perfect teeth close around the last bit of whip cream, a trickle of cherry juice looking blood red against her napkin as it spills off the spoon.  Only after closing her eyes, slowly running her tongue over her lips, and sighing does she speak.  Her accent is eastern European; her way of finding fault, Russian to the core.

“Back home, it is much better.”  A mischievous grin as she looks at me, her head tilted down but her eyes meeting mine through the curtain of her black bangs.  “Back home, such a small piece would be for the children, and the old.  We have appetites, you know?”  I hoped I did.  I thought I would be able to stretch her…appetite even further this evening.

She leans forward, her smooth shoulders rounding slightly as she reaches to touch my sleeve.  I light her cigarette, and marvel at how her pale skin and black hair have such an effect on me.  I don’t even smoke, but now I carry a lighter so I can light her cigarette whenever she asks, or hopefully, before.  It is only in such moments, when she unconsciously takes her first lungful of smoke, that she is relaxed, at ease.  A moment only, then it passes, and the mischief is back in her eyes.

“Tell me, do American’s always do things in little pieces?  I thought America was the land of Big Things, Big Ideas, Big Buildings, Big everything!?  All I have seen here is little.  Little deserts, little people, little ideas.”  She is teasing.  We have just finished a long walk through a cold night away from a party, one that we didn’t arrive at together, and shouldn’t have left together.  People will talk.  On the walk, we talked of religion, of faith, of joy and of guilt.  We skated the dangerous ice of morality while sitting down at the last open café in town, a small place with only a few tables.  One that I had never seen before, but we saw as we crossed the street toward her apartment.  We ordered something sweet, and now she smoked, and mocked the grand ideas I had brought up about the world and the universe around us.

I tell her that it is not a question of big or little, but intensity, of intimacy, of savoring the little you have which is all the more sweet because it will not last long.  Indeed, sometimes merely the anticipation of the last bite is more pleasure than the bite itself.  She laughs at me, leans back, her silver earrings catching the light the same way as her eyes do.

“And you,” she asks, “do you have big appetites or are you a little man?”  I smile at this, she knows the problem is that I am both.  For all that we barely know each other, this contradiction has been evident in me from the beginning.  What she doesn’t know is that I always control which side of me gets to “come out and play”.

We leave, and she puts her arm through mine.  This is bold, and a little daring.  She knows about the other, indeed, has an “other” of her own, yet still, she puts her arm through mine and her perfume makes me dizzy.  We have already begun another conversation about joy versus guilt, one that is spoken by our words and yet acted out by our fingers as they touch.

Instead of her apartment, we stop at a park, where rustling branches of trees allow the wind to speak to us.  On a bench we sit and watch the stars, and she tells me that men never understand detail, never see the little things.  I tell her that maybe women never get the big picture, I teach her the expression “you don’t see the forest for the trees”.  At this she laughs, gets up, and approaches an oak tree that is further in the shadows.  “You mean a tree like this one?”  I follow her to the tree, we can still see the stars but the streetlights are hidden, the passing cars just an addition to the breeze.

It begins as always, a hesitant kiss on the forehead, something that can just as easily be a stroke of affection as a gesture of things to come.  When she presses against me, I begin to show her what kind of appetite I can have.

Her legs are around me, hips grinding through clothing as I press her into the tree for support.  I am at her neck (no marks is the unspoken rule), her hair, her lips.  A small sound of protest turning to pleasure as I bite the inside of her lip.  No marks, but she’ll remember me in the morning as she takes her first sip of the scalding hot coffee she drinks at breakfast.  She holds my head to her now naked breast, and this is where the first blood is drawn, a place that is hidden from everybody, from every “other”.  She tries to push me away when she feels my teeth on the soft skin below her nipple, that secret place where the breast meets the rib cage.  It is there that my teeth meet through her skin, and the pressure of me against her forces her hands up, around my neck, and what was an attempt to stop me becomes an urgency for me to continue.

I turn her around, shoving her face into the soft moss that covers the trunk.  My hand pushes her skirt to her waist, and, before she can say anything, I have two fingers pressed deep inside her tunnel, which I can feel beginning to contract with pleasure.  She gasps as I slip my thumb into her other hole, and I can feel the pressure of my other fingers across a wall of flesh.  She cries out, a small sound lost in the breeze, and Russian phrases tumble out of her mouth.  Because she has put her hand over mine and pressed me deeper into her, I have no problem with the translation.

Her dark hair reflects the starlight, and her pale skin is hot under my free hand as I bring a stinging slap to her left cheek.  She stiffens, then grinds against me harder; another slap, and she is moving faster.  I can feel her juices covering my hand.  It even feels like her tight circle is lubricating, my thumb is deep inside there, clenched by her tight muscles but able to move inside her.  A third slap, and she gasps again, wordlessly.  Her orgasm sends another gush over my fingers, I grab her head and I wipe my hands on her hair, she will have the scent of her own pleasure around her for days.

For a moment or an eternity, we are still: she against the tree, gently sucking a finger I have put in her mouth; me against her, supporting her and covering her from the cold.

At last she gently moves a hand behind her to stroke me through the stiff fabric of my jeans.  I open my zipper, and she rubs her girl-cum on my staff.  She holds it, turns her head so she can whisper to me “Something sweet…” and she slowly presses back onto me, her cheeks parting and a momentary resistance, and then I am in her deeply, her other tunnel, tight and unexplored this way.  My early movements had relaxed the muscles enough to allow me to thrust into her without too much pain, but when she gives a sharp gasp I drive in harder.  My appetite is nearly filled, but she is what has to be consumed, consumed in her own sensation.

With both hands free, I move her out from the tree so I can stroke her breasts.  Her nipples are long, and stiff from the cold and her own orgasm;  on my next thrust, I pinch her hard, and am rewarded with another cry of pain.  I squeeze harder, as if I am milking her like the animal I am making her into, while I shove in and out of her back door.  Soon, another orgasm rips through her, muscles contract around me, and I explode into her, so deep I can’t imagine where it is all going,,.only up into her.

Too soon, we are unlinking in front of her apartment and she will call when she comes back from Russia.  Her breath is like honey and musk when she pulls me to her, mindful of watching eyes, and whispers “When I come back, we’ll go out again, for something sweet…”

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Whisper Sweet Nothings: Something About Sam (Part 1) — Layla Hunter

By smartypnts1 | Published: August 29, 2010

Sarah jumped when the phone finally rang.  She stared at the console like a deer caught in headlights, unable to move.  What the hell was she doing?  This was insane; an introverted, thirty-something, afraid-of-her-own-shadow architect trying to pass herself off as a sex phone operator?

“Are you going to get that or what?” Rachel, her designated trainer, chided her and Sarah looked to her helplessly.

“You can do this … come on … remember why you are doing this … it makes it easier.  I’ll be right out here,” the woman reassured her.

Sarah nodded towards her and reached over to press the button, the button that would lead her down a path she had never pictured herself traversing, especially not at this point in her life.

She had been asked to pick a name for herself and had chosen Sherry … it had a sweet, girl-next-door quality to it unlike her own name.  Her literary-minded mother had thought it a wonderful idea to name her daughter Scheherazade, although most of her friends called her Sarah.  Today, though, she was Sherry.

“Hello, this is Sherry. Welcome to Whisper Sweet Nothings … have you us called before?” she asked sweetly even though her hands were shaking and her heart pounded painfully within her chest.

“Uh, no … this is … well, this is my first time.”

Since she was new, she had been told she would get the undecided first-timers or the clients who wanted a more ‘vanilla’ experience.  Most of the women had a specialty too … BDSM, Fetish, Gay/Lesbian, etc.  As she trained, she could add to her repertoire which would increase her money-making potential.

“Not to worry.  That’s why they put you in my very capable hands.  I will take care of you.  What’s your name?” she asked, wondering if she should pull out the scripts she had studied ad nauseum.

“Sam.  My name is Sam.  Know what … this was a mistake.  I … I should go.  I’m sorry ma’am … I didn’t mean to waste your time and …”

She could hear his voice trembling and her heart went out to him.  He was as scared as she was.  “Sam … listen to me … I probably shouldn’t tell you this but would it make you feel better to know that this is my first time too?”

She caught the look of disdain from Rachel as she shook her head from side to side.  Sorry, she mouthed as she turned her attention back to Sam.

“I think you are just saying that to keep me on the line.”

“No, this really is my first time.  I’ll make you a deal … we take this one step at a time … together … how does that sound?”

There was a moment of silence and she thought she had lost him; her heart sank.

“That sounds fine.”

“So tell me Sam, what is it that you were looking for when you decided to call?”

“I … I’m not sure.  It’s been a long time ma’am since I have …” he paused again and she could feel his uncertainty.

“Sam … call me Sherry … please.  It’s much more personal and … intimate.”

“Sherry.  That’s a nice name.  And your voice … it’s very deep and smooth … do you sing?”

She laughed.  “Only in the shower.”

“That’s too bad.  I think you could really do something with that voice.”

She was doing something with that voice, she thought to herself and stamped down any feelings of derision she had about this.

“Thank you.  I have thought about it from time to time but … truth is I’m just too shy to sing in front of people.”

There was an odd moment of silence and then she realized how silly that sounded considering what she was doing here and now.  She had to laugh out loud. 

“I figured you’d get it,” he teased.

“You’re funny Sam.  Listen hon … I’m here for you tonight.  What do you want?” She urged him gently, hoping he would open up to her.

“I don’t know.  I’ve never done anything like this before.  My buddies set this up for me … sort of a going away present.  They thought it might help me get over … well …”

She heard the heartache in his voice; she could almost feel it.  “Can I ask what happened?”

“I’m not sure really.  I thought everything was going just fine and then she sent me a Dear Sam letter … well, she e-mailed me a Dear Sam letter.”

“Ouch.  I’m sorry about that.  What a cowardly way to break up with someone,” she remarked, unable to keep the ire from her voice.  “Sam … I know I don’t know you but I can read people fairly well and you seem like a good, sweet man who was hurt by a foolish, thoughtless woman.  Maybe it’s easier said then done but let it go … don’t take this with you.”

He was quiet and she hoped she hadn’t offended him.  Who did she think she was … Dear Sherry?  Yet she sensed he would need all his sensibilities about him for the journey ahead.  “Are you okay? I am sorry if I offended you…”

“No, no … really, it’s alright.  That’s what everyone has been telling me but … it’s hard.”

“I know … believe me.”  She should change the subject.  “Tell me … do you like the outdoors?”

“Yeah, I love it outside.”

“What else do you like?”

“Hiking and camping.  A little fishing.  I always wanted to make my way across Alaska, you know. I like photography.  Don’t laugh but … I wanted to be a wildlife photographer when I grew up.”

She caught her breath at the synchronicity of his reply.  “I would never laugh but … wow, that’s weird.  I always pictured myself photographing wolves somewhere in the Midwest or Alaska.”

“Then why are you doing this?” he asked.

Ouch.  “Real life.  Sometimes it puts our dreams on hold, but never give up on your dreams.  I have no intention of giving up on mine.”

“Ditto.  So here’s to our dreams Sherry.”

“Here’s to our dreams.  What if I told you that we were lying together on a blanket near a creek, underneath the stars having a late night picnic … would you join me?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Would it be alright if I sit in front of you … between your legs … and ask you to put your arms around me while we look up at the stars?”

“You’re a romantic then?” he asked almost hopefully.

“Guilty.”

“Okay, arms are around you Sherry.”

“Hmmm … that’s nice.  Nothing like a pair of strong arms wrapped around me.  Are you ready to give this a try Sam?”

He started to answer and then went quiet.  “I’m not sure what to do.”

“Leave that up to me.  Are you somewhere where you can get comfortable, if you know what I mean,” she asked and heard his breath catch.

“Give me a minute?”

“I’ll be waiting,” she assured him as she sat back drawing in a deep, relaxing breath.  She could do this.  She had to do this.  Strangely enough, she found she almost wanted to do this with him.

“I’m back Sherry.”

“Okay … now close your eyes and just relax … long, deep breaths … and listen to my voice.  Jump in wherever you want to.  Let me ask … if I wanted to go skinny-dipping, would you join me?”

He laughed out loud.  “Hell yeah.”

“Then what are we waiting for … let’s do it!  Would you help me get undressed?”

“What are you wearing?”

“A long, sleeveless dress … gauzy … something in dark amber perhaps?”

“Nice.  How are you wearing your hair?”

“My hair is up … long brown hair with a few loose strands brushing against my neck.”

“And what color are your eyes?” he asked tentatively.

“Green.  And yours?”

“Blue. And my hair … what’s left of it … is black.”

“I can picture you Sam.  You are a handsome man and you look very sexy in the moonlight.  Here … reach down and lift my dress up and over my head …”

“What are you wearing underneath?” he asked a bit shyly.

“Nothing,” she teased.

He laughed and she described her body to him, giving him details but leaving some things to the imagination … his imagination.  She waited a moment before she asked if he was done.

“Admiring you in the moonlight?  No, not yet …”

She smiled as she felt a little shiver course through her.  He was coming along now and the realization that she had something to do with helping him made her feel better about this.

“Your turn Sam.  Will you undress for me?  I want to watch,” she stated in a sultry tone, asking him to describe to her what he looked like.

She closed her eyes and imagined him standing naked before her beneath a full moon and she told him as much.  Then, she described them running down to the creek, hand in hand, and diving into the warm water as the image began to take shape in her own mind, using her words to paint a picture for him. 

“This water is a lot warmer than I thought.  Come here … wrap your arms around me,” she asked him, her voice a little softer now.  She described to him the feel of water lapping around their naked bodies, the sensations those tiny waves were stirring within her, and the feel of his arms around her.

“My breasts feel good pressed against your chest … every time you move against them, you stir up a little bit of heat down there,” she confessed as she actually felt a frisson of desire move through her.

“Kiss me Sam … please,” she urged him, her voice a little deeper now.  “Imagine your mouth moving over mine … my lips are soft and full and parted ever so slightly inviting you to kiss me a little deeper … yes, like that … I taste like chocolate and strawberries … hmmm,” she sighed wistfully.

“Can you feel my hands moving over your back and around your waist … down around your backside?  Oh … love those dimples Sam,” she teased and he laughed. 

“Touch me … I want to feel your hands over my wet body … its all yours tonight … oh, yesss … that’s it … where are you touching me?”

“Your shoulders and down your arms … across your back … hmmm … you have a nice ass too, Sherry,” he remarked and she laughed out loud.

“Indeed I do.  What about my breasts … do you like them?”

“Yes … they are full and soft and fit in my hands.”

“Oh, I like what you are doing … squeezing and kneading them … oh, do that again … brush your thumbs over my nipples.”  She gasped in pleasure.

“Please … I want to feel your mouth over them … I want to feel you licking my nipples … drawing them into your mouth … tugging and teasing … even nipping them lightly … oh, Sam … that’s it … heaven.” She let loose a soft moan and nearly lifted her hand to her own breast.

“While you do that, you won’t mind if I reach my hands beneath the water and find your cock … the one that’s been pressed against me since we started kissing?” she continued her description of their encounter.

“Oh, nice.  I’m going to stroke your beautiful cock … my hands moving over you in the water …”

She heard him draw in a sharp breath and let loose a moan.  “Sherry … I want …” he hesitated and she knew he was nervous.  It was her job to guide him along if need be.

“Do you want to make love to me?”

___________________

Part 2 will be published one week from today.  Read Layla’s other sexy stories published here on Every Night Erotica; Full Exposure and Masquerade.

Writing as Layla Hunter, I am a member of RWA, NJRW, LSFW, Passionate Ink, FF&P RWA, Elements RWA, IWWG, as well as Romance Divas, Absolute Write and Romance in the Backseat, where I entered and won the New Year’s Writer’s Rumble with my entry, Karma.  I have attended the NJRW 2008 and 2009 Put Your Heart in a Book conferences and am looking forward to NJRW 2010.  Along with erotic romance, I write contemporary and paranormal romance and currently have several works in progress. You can find Layla here: www.laylahunter.com

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A Midsummer Afternoon Arousal — Allie Johnson

By smartypnts1 | Published: August 28, 2010

I woke up with a hard-on. I know most people would think, “so what? Isn’t that normal?” Yeah, to some extent, but this wasn’t the usual morning wood, but a genuine rock hard erection after my Saturday afternoon power nap. I’m not a teenager.  I’m a middle-aged man, and something in my light sleep had made me horny.

When we were younger I could go find my wife, Cindy and with little persuasion I could coax her into dropping whatever she was doing to tend to my needs.  These days she wasn’t as inclined to be so accommodating.  Don’t get me wrong, we had a great sex life, but she didn’t like to have sex when she was working on a project in the middle of the day.

I slept naked, so I walked to the top of the stairs with my hard cock pointing the way, and called out my wife’s name. There was no response. That meant that she was either listening to her iPod or outside working in the yard, or both.

We have a six foot privacy fence surrounding our pool.  I could have walked out there to find Cindy as I was without being seen by the neighbors, but it would not be something Cindy wanted to see while she was weeding the rose bushes.

The window of the spare bedroom had a good view of the backyard, so I walked in there and peeked through the blinds. I was stunned to see my wife reclined in the chaise lounge, next to the pool, soaking in rays in a red string bikini.  I didn’t know she owned a bikini, and she almost never sunbathed.  I couldn’t see her face, but only the top of her blonde head.

Although, Cindy had determined a few years ago that she was too mature for a bikini, her body didn’t agree.  She looked damn fine with those tiny red patches barely covering her nipples and pussy.  Had she shaved down there?  When did she do that?

My cock was hurting, it was so stiff, and I was about to go out there and take her right there on the chaise lounge when she sat up, looked around, then reached back and untied the top of her bikini and removed it. This was so out of character for her. I decided to watch her a little longer. It’s not like I hadn’t seen my wife topless before, but the fact that she didn’t know I was watching made it all feel a little naughtier.

I started stroking my cock lightly as I stared at my wife’s lovely round breasts glowing in the sunlight. I know my wife masturbated; she had a vibrator in the bedside table, but I’d never seen her actually do it. I almost shot my load when she started pinching her nipples. They were a soft reddish brown and I loved how hard they could get when stimulated. They were stimulated now, and she began writhing a little with the pleasure she was giving herself.

I groaned out loud when Cindy reached down and pulled the strings on her bikini bottom and released the fabric, and exposing her pubis. She had shaved her pussy!  I let out a low moan when she parted her pussy lips with the two fingers of one hand and found her clit with the fingers of the other. Soon, I could tell by the quivering of her body that she was about to come, and so was I. I didn’t think I could hold back much longer.

“What the fuck are you doing?” a voice shouted from the doorway. I turned to see my wife, Cindy, standing with a laundry basket in her hands.

I stood with my dick in my hand. “I-uh—who’s that by the pool?”

“Julie came over. I didn’t think you’d mind, and it appears that you don’t.”

Julie was Cindy’s younger sister. “I know you will probably never believe me, but I honestly thought it was you.”

Cindy walked over to the window and stared down at what I’d been peering at. “That little slut!” she said, then she turned and glared at me. “You couldn’t tell that wasn’t me?”

“I was a little surprised that you’d shaved your pussy without telling me,” I said, lamely. “But you have to admit you guys look a lot a like. Especially from this distance.  I couldn’t see her face.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you were standing here masturbating thinking that was me?”

“Yeah, and that’s the truth.”

She glared at me some more, then asked.  “And you wouldn’t have if you’d known it was Julie?”

I thought about it for a second too long, then stupidly I turned to look out the window again. She slapped me in the back of the head. “It might help your case more if you’d quit looking out there.”

I snapped my back around to face her. She looked at me for a while, then down at my hard cock. She smiled a little. Then she laughed. “You are such an idiot,” she said, then cocked on eyebrow. “You think you would like me to shave my pussy like that?”

Instinctively, I started to look out the window again, but I stopped myself and said, “Yes, I think I would like that.”

“Okay, I will,” she said, smiling and caressing my erect dick with her hand. “You want to help me do it now.”

I followed her into the bedroom, and thought about how close I had come to walking out to the pool with my hard cock sticking out.  Julie would have freaked out, and Christmas would have been awkward, but I couldn’t help fantasizing about a three way.  Of course that’s a fantasy I’ll take to my grave.  If Cindy ever found out about what I was thinking, I would go to my grave sooner.

____________________

Allie Johnson is from West Texas and has been writing erotica for the last five years.  He is a member of the Fish Tank, which is a writing forum for erotica writers, and has published several stories in Ruthie’s Club prior to that site’s closure.

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Three — Neil Connolly

By smartypnts1 | Published: August 27, 2010

Tom woke feeling like death with a hangover that was off the scale.  Twenty minutes later he got up and staggered to the shower.  After that he went to the kitchen and drank a litre of water.  Feeling half human he went in search of the others.  Fifteen of them were renting the villa on Spain’s Mediterranean coast for two weeks and this was day eight of one long drinking session.  Tom went out into the bright sunlight and found two of the girls sunning themselves by the pool.  Nicki and Lucy were both brunette and petite, face down on their loungers with tops off and bikini bottoms leaving little to the imagination.

‘He’s awake at last,’ Nicki said.

‘Just about by the looks of him,’ Lucy laughed.

‘Where are the others?’ Tom asked.

‘Gone whale watching or dolphin spotting or something,’ Nicki wiggled her bum.  ‘Can you rub some more sun cream into my back?’

Tom took a second to realise the request was aimed at him.  He found a bottle of lotion and squirted the last dregs of pink cream onto his fingers.  Nicki’s tanned skin was beaded with perspiration as Tom took his time gliding down from shoulders to the rise of her pert buttocks.

‘Legs too,’ she said.

Tom shifted to hide the growing lump in his shorts.  Her thighs were firm and toned, and when she parted them a little he felt himself begin to tremble.  When he finished with Nicki, Lucy said.

‘Now me.’

‘There’s no cream left in the bottle,’ Tom barely recognised his own voice when he spoke.

 ‘What about your own?’

‘I didn’t bring any.’

‘I meant the stuff in your shorts?’ Lucy said.  ‘I hear it’s good for the skin.’

To make sure he knew what she meant Lucy hooked her fingers into the waistband of her bikini bottoms and slid them down to the top of her thighs.  Tom’s mouth went, if anything, drier than before.  He felt his temperature rise, not good with his thumping headache, and he took a moment to calm himself.

‘Well?’ Lucy asked.

The sun was searingly hot as Tom released his cock and started masturbating, eyes fixed on Lucy’s sweet ass.  He clamped his mouth shut to stop a groan escaping as, heart thumping, he saw Nicki lift herself onto her elbows.  He got the gorgeous sight of pink tipped breasts as she turn to watch.  Tom felt his cock filling and he rose, leaning over Lucy just in time to spatter her back with his cream.  He dropped to his knees, fighting a wave of nausea; this wasn’t the time to add anything else to the mix.

‘Rub it in then,’ Lucy said as Tom knelt beside her.

His hands were shaking as he smeared his come across her flesh and then he was shaking even more when Nicki knelt beside him and started to help.  She smiled at him.

‘You look like shit,’ Nicki said.

‘It’s the sun,’ Tom said, ‘it’s hot out here.’

‘Are you saying we should go into the apartment?’  Nicki gave him a sly grin.  ‘Find somewhere cool to spend the rest of the afternoon?’

Tom stared into her hazel eyes and forced himself to say.  ‘Yes.’

‘What d’you think Lucy?’ Nicki asked.

‘Sounds like Tom’s got bigger balls than I thought.’

‘And a nice sized cock to go with them,’ Nicki replied.

Lucy sat up.  Her breasts were bigger than Nicki’s, the nipples darker and already erect.  Tom wished he hadn’t had such a skin full the night before as she pushed her bikini bottoms all the way down.

‘Well I guess the best place is that king sized bed Nicki and I have been sharing all week,’ Lucy said.

‘We’ve been wondering if it’ll take three.’

Tom stood with the girls as Lucy took his left hand and Nicki his right.

‘This is one holiday you are never going to forget,’ Nicki said, as they led him into the cool interior of the villa.

___________________

This is Neil’s second story published here on Every Night Erotica read, One Day.

Neil Connolly has spent far too many years working in the same office, although to be fair to his boss he has sat at four different desks during that time so can’t complain about having limited opportunities for travel.  This is possibly the reason why Neil started to write fiction as it gives a route for his mind to escape.

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