Dating long-distance wasn’t all that bad. Keri had a schedule that kept her plenty busy, and Andrew didn’t seem to mind driving those three hours to visit her on the weekends. But every now and then, work and social obligations would overflow into their sacred weekends, and they were left with the choice to either not see one another, or to both to drive and meet somewhere in the middle for a few hours.
This weekend was one of those crazy ones, where Keri found herself scrambling to fit everyone into those two precious days on the calendar. But as soon as Sunday afternoon rolled around, and she had finally checked all of her obligations off on the checklist, she’d dialed up Andrew and suggested a rendezvous in the small town that marked the halfway point between their two home cities.
She’d suggested dinner at the hole-in-the-wall Mexican place they both liked, and they met, as usual, Andrew dressed nice but casual in his button-down and jeans, and Keri donning a cute blue summer dress.
The waiter put their plates in front of them, the steaming entrees filling her nostrils with salt and spice. She dived right in, savoring each bite as she chewed it and rolled it around on her tongue.
“They’re thinking of making me head over the new project,” Andrew said as he rolled a fajita. “I’ll have a team of about ten guys, and I’m pretty confident we’ll be able to get the shipment out on time. James is a hard worker, and Mark is ridiculously smart. I just hope I’ll be able to step it up and lead them like the boss wants.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great, babe,” Keri said. “You’re diplomatic, but you also know when to get stern. I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you.”
“I hope so.” He sighed. “Word has it, there’s some big money that could potentially come if this whole thing takes off and we’re able to sell to the customers in New Jersey. It’s a bigger deal than everyone’s making it out to be. I think they just don’t want to stress us the hell out since we’re a little short-staffed. Still, it could make or break us as a company.”
“You’re going to do great, babe. You’ve already come this far. You’ve climbed the ladder.”
“I suppose.”
“And you work for a group of guys who actually see your worth. That’s priceless in this economy.”
He nodded. “God, isn’t that the truth?”
She really was proud of Andrew. They’d been each other’s cheerleader from the moment they each landed their respective jobs up to this day. But try as she might, she couldn’t fully enjoy the meal or the conversation. She found herself drifting as Andrew continued discussing the goings on at his job. Unable to stop looking at his strong, kissable jaw, freshly shaved just for her, she crossed her legs beneath the table and silently reminded herself that she had to work tomorrow and needed to get home at a reasonable time.
His eyes, cobalt blue with dark lashes, looked hard into hers, seeming to understand, and he stopped talking. Leaning back, he let his tall, lanky frame relax into the booth cushion. He grinned a crooked smile and touched her foot with his.
“Too bad we don’t have time to play,” Keri said, her body tense from the week’s duties and desperately in need of release.
“And why don’t we?” he asked.
“Well, because we’re here, and we don’t have time to go back to your place or mine. We’ve both gotta get up for work in the morning.”
“So what?” He licked his lips, the gesture sending a burst of want to Keri’s core. “You know, I pass this swanky little motel on my way over here every time. We could always stop in for an hour or two.” His eyes dipped down to the scoop neck of her dress then back to her face. “But it’s up to you. I can wait until next time.” He lowered his voice to a sultry purr. “But I don’t want to.”
He didn’t make it easy, did he? It was either this, or she’d go home to the vibrator.
This sounded like far too much fun to pass up.
“We can’t tell anyone, or we’d never live it down,” she said. “People might think we’re crass.”
“I know. I can just imagine the shit my friends would give me. But whatever. We’ll keep it our little secret.”
She hopped in the passenger’s seat of his sedan and let him drive them to their destination. Andrew had left her in the car as he went in to pay. Keri could barely contain her laughter. She felt like a felon, doing something illicit yet delicious. The place was one of those no-tell motels, from the looks of it. There was no second floor, all patrons having to enter their rooms from the outside, no inside hall. The motel’s sign was only half-lit. Real clunkers of vehicles filled half the parking lot, and an ancient soda machine near the entrance looked like it belonged in a museum.
When he returned with the room key, dangling it in front of his face like a prize, Keri laughed. They found their room and parked in front of the old wooden door. What a deliciously wicked way to end a weekend.
The dim room smelled of stale cigarette smoke, which suddenly aroused Keri in a way she wasn’t quite used to. There were two double beds, both covered with worn flower-print comforters that looked about as old as she was. Andrew flipped on the bedside lamp, but all it did was cast the shady room in mysterious shadow.
How many other couples had met here for the same reason as she and Andrew? How badly had they wanted one another, what secrets were they keeping, and where in the room did they make love? Just imagining all the possibilities, picturing erotic couplings in the chair, against the dresser, on the bed, in the shower—they aroused Keri until her swelling cunt ached with need.
“Be right back,” she said to Andrew, who was already halfway out of his clothes.
He solemnly nodded to her, his eyes already alight with hunger. The aura of the room must have gotten to him, too. She left him there by the bed as she went into the bathroom and closed the door.
It was a little private indulgence, undressing in front of the cheap mirror. The bathroom was so tiny. She slipped the dress over her head and slowly removed her lacy blue bra and panties then drew several slow circles around her clit with her finger. Her pussy responded to her touch, her juices already flowing. As her hands took on a life of their own, stroking her clit more passionately, her trimmed, golden pubic hair became glittery with the moisture.
She had to return to Andrew, or this was going to be over before it had even begun. Pulling her ponytail holder out of her shoulder-length blonde hair, she stood up straight, noting that her nipples were quite pert. She pinched them once before leaving the bathroom, and another jolt of pleasure went straight to her core.
Andrew lay upon the bed, his lean, muscular body cast in the lamp’s shadows. He’d pulled the comforter to the side, clean white sheets lying beneath him. A trail of dark hair led down from his navel to his prick, which was already fully erect, standing engorged with his own desire. Good. She didn’t have to spare another moment.
He watched her intently as she crawled toward him from the edge of the mattress. She hovered over him, her nipples brushing against the soft curls of his chest hair as she leaned down to kiss him. In an instant, his hands were all over her, cupping her breasts, grabbing her ass, rubbing against her slick cunt. Her body instantly came alive, and she trembled as she frantically positioned herself to straddle him. She took his cock in her hand and guided it to her opening. But instead of impaling herself on it, as she so badly wanted to do, she started riding the head, popping the bulbous tip in and out of her.
Andrew’s hands dropped as he watched her play with his prick in such a teasing manner. She took the head in then slid it out, and he groaned, his face twisted into an expression of ecstatic agony. When she could take the mischief no longer, she dropped on the full length of him, and he let out a throaty moan.
Her limbs immediately began to shake, his twitching prick caressing the deepest part of her. With total abandon, she began to ride him, her body moving to its own rhythm. Andrew played with her nipples, tweaking them, and she let her head fall back. All the stress started to seep out of her, replaced with the cleansing fire of their union.
Andrew grabbed her wrist, and she stopped rocking. Looking into his eyes, she turned her head to the side, hoping nothing was wrong. She was getting so close.
“Hop up,” he muttered, more a growl than words.
She shifted to the right, sliding him out of her, and waited on her knees for him to speak. When he too moved to his knees, he motioned for her to move toward him. She did as indicated, and he gently took her by her curvy hips and turned her back to him.
Oh, so this was what he wanted. Glancing at him over her shoulder, she watched as he stroked himself, his eyes flitting from her back to her ass to her shoulders. She lowered to all fours, the springy mattress shifting beneath her.
She held her gaze on the old wooden headboard and stopped breathing as she waited in torturous anticipation for him to enter her again. But now it was his turn to tease. He released his cock, letting it fall to slap the top of her buttocks, again and again. Each time the firm, silky member touched her flesh, she grew wetter until she was pushing her ass against him, desperate to feel him inside.
He crouched over her body, his chest pressed against her back. Propping himself up with one arm parallel to hers, he slipped his head into her cunt and stayed there. He nibbled her ear and licked the soft underside. Trembling, she arched her back, thrusting against his prick and forcing him in to the hilt.
Andrew moaned and began to thrust. Keri braced herself, holding her position firm as he took her from behind. His balls slapped against her pussy, his cock moving ever faster, each moment bringing more force than before.
The mattress started to squeak. It bounced their bodies as Andrew shoved himself in deep and grinded against Keri, hitting her G-spot. She whimpered, her limbs quickly turning to jelly, as the explosion of an orgasm overtook her.
“Oh, god, yeah!” she cried out, not daring to collapse just yet, though she felt as if she’d faint.
She was able to hold firm long enough for Andrew to jut his hips one moment longer, and then he too gasped in ecstasy. His body overtaken by quick, jerky spasms, he collapsed against her, and she took it as cue to lie down on the mattress.
With the sensual movements of a cat, she shifted underneath him until they were face-to-face, panting, their lips spread in sated smiles. She reached up and took his face in her hands and brought it to her for a long, indulgent kiss.
“Excellent idea,” she said, her body so comfortably warm inside and out.
“Yeah,” he said. “Who knew this run-down place would hold such promise?”
“I don’t know.” Grinning, she caressed his back. “But I think I’ve found my new favorite secret.”
Robin and the Winsome Wench — P.J. Rosier
It was a sultry summer’s afternoon in Sherwood Forest. Sunlight dappled the waters of a stream ruffled only by the pebbles sent skimming over the placid surface by Robin Hood. Dressed in his traditional green, he lay on the grassy bank.
He was bored.
What a disaster, he thought. A beautiful day for fun and frolic and no-one to share it with. His plan had seemed such a good idea at first. The evil Sheriff of Nottingham was safely out of the way, travelling with his personal guards to East Anglia to pledge allegiance to King John who himself was on a Royal Progression to Norfolk and the coast. The nearby robber barons were too hot to bother with anything but staying in their shady castles and entertaining with wine, wenches and feasting. If the entertainment was not up to scratch, then nailing the jester to the wall by his ears, or other parts, was just as amusing. The poor people tilled the soil, tended their cattle and avoided the Black Death as best they could.
It was just another summer’s day in Merrie England.
But how tedious it had become, thought Robin. The whole idea of living with his Merrie Men was fine at the start but that was the trouble. Living with them meant it was impossible to be private, particularly when he wished to enjoy Maid Marian’s favours. Why just a week ago, entering a leaf carpeted glade with Marian, he felt his lust surge – and other parts swell in agreement. Seized by his urges, he tumbled her to the ground and had raised her skirts around her waist when, calamity!, Friar Tuck wandered into the glade from the opposite direction. Of course, seeing what was happening, he made a speedy exit, his rosary beads clicking furiously like an Eastern trader’s abacus, but the moment was ruined for Robin.
Or a day or two before that. Alone, or so he thought, in the forest with Marian, Robin spied a tree fallen months before in the winter storms. Its smooth bark and lushly rounded curves brought just one thing to mind and it was seconds only before Robin had untied the leather thong holding Marian’s britches around her waist and, tugging them around her ankles, had laid her prone over the log. He was just contemplating her soft naked pink-hued buttocks, so invitingly raised when, surely not!, Alan A-Dale emerged from some nearby bushes. Not for the first time, Robin regretted his decision so long ago to clothe his men in Lincoln Green. Not only did it camouflage them from the Sheriff’s men, it meant he couldn’t spot them either until they were too close for comfort.
So, with things now calm and peaceful, Robin had decided to let his men have a well earned rest and to return to their families and friends for a week or two, leaving just Marian. Just as he was congratulating himself on this plan, Marian herself decided to go home to visit her aged mother. In vain did Robin plead that this would lose them the very opportunity they had sought: to be alone together. But Marian would not postpone her visit; her mind was made up.
So thinking, Robin had fallen into melancholy when he heard a noise of branches breaking, horses galloping and rough voices shouting. Looking up, he saw a young woman in a fine and fancy gown burst from the trees and scramble down the bank into the stream followed moments later by two knights on horseback.
As the young woman half waded and half swam into the middle of the stream, one of the knights raised his lance and aimed it like a spear at her. He had just pulled back his arm to its full stretch when he dropped the lance and stared in surprise. One of Robin’s arrows, still quivering, was buried in his arm’s fleshy muscle. Seeing Robin with another arrow already notched to his bow and taking aim, both knights turned their horses and wheeled away back into the woods.
The young woman, a very comely wench Robin noticed, had by now reached his side of the stream and he lent forward to help her up the muddy bank. Her hair was plastered to her face, very far from the elegant style it had started out with that day; even Robin noticed that. Her face and arms were muddy and scratched from brambles and her dress, elegant too, torn and stained.
“Thank you, Sire,” said she, “I know you by repute; Robin the Green, some say.”
“I am pleased to help you, Mistress,” said Robin, flattered that she should recognise him. “But who are you and why were you being chased?”
“My name is Mercy and I am the daughter of a poor but honest miller who lives in a village but a few leagues from here. He is kind and gives the villagers flour and grain when times are hard against a promise of future payment but few ever do. Now he cannot pay his rent to our landowner the Baron and the Baron took me instead in lieu of what he is owed. I am his plaything but, as an honest girl, I cannot deny my nature and my love in the next village and so I essayed to escape, chased by his brutal guards.
“So I thank you, Sire, for your chivalry. But I must change these wet clothes for I fear an ague from the sudden chill on such a hot day.”
At this, Robin’s eyes lit up as he had had much the same thoughts himself but was wondering how best to express them. He hurried to fetch a coarse horse blanket and Mercy disappeared into the bushes to remove her clothing. When she returned wrapped in the blanket, it was clear that she was as toothsome then as in her former fine habiliment.
Shortly it grew dark and Mercy made them a dinner of small beer, cold meat and some stale bread that was all that Robin had left. Robin watched and could only think of that fair, naked flesh under the rough blanket. As she knelt by the fire, the blanket slipped and her pink and white breasts peeked into view.
“Oh Sire, I see you regarding my apples. I fear that is all I can offer you.”
“Oh come, Mercy. Surely you would not deny me a closer look at all your charms?”
“Faith Sire, having seen the fruit would you ravage the orchard?”
Before Robin could think of an answer, he heard soft footsteps and without warning (curse that Lincoln Green!), Maid Marion strode into the camp.
“Why Robin, I leave you but for a few days returning early fearing you are lonely only to find you with a half dressed maiden, no better than she ought.”
Both Robin and Mercy sought to explain the innocent nature of their liason and Marion listened with a cynical smile.
“I will think hard on whether I believe you but meantime this pretty maiden can help me. I am tired from travel and dusty. I need to undress and bathe in the stream before bed. Come, Mercy.”
As they left the clearing, Robin could not but help contrast them: Marian with her boyish figure, sun-tanned face and dark close cropped hair, dressed in boy’s jerkin and britches; Mercy with her slender shapely legs that even the blanket showed to advantage, her pale skin and long fair hair …….and her captivating breasts.
From the stream came sounds of splashing, girlish laughter and giggles. These faded until it became quite quiet and Robin wondered when Marian and Mercy might return.
He walked slowly in the direction of the stream and stopped short when he saw the two women in a position he had never thought possible. Both were naked and lay side by side caressing and kissing. Marian was whispering in Mercy’s ear who giggled softly and whispered something back. Then they locked lips together and Marian continued to caress Mercy’s breasts while Mercy’s hand slid down between Marian’s legs and gripped her there before rubbing back and forth, faster and faster.
Marian cried out and lowered her lips to Mercy’s breasts where she began to suckle prettily. Mercy herself now gasped as both she and Marian trembled and shook with passion before falling still.
Shortly, both women looked up from their daze and saw Robin standing there, agog.
“Do not be surprised, Robin,” said Mercy. “I told you when you rescued me that I had to be true to my own nature and, if I cannot yet be with my dear lady in the village close to my own, I can at least succour and comfort your sweet Marian, as she is doing to me.”
And smiling at Robin, Mercy rolled over on top of Marian and placed her lips firmly between those wet and wanton thighs all the better to start their love making over again.
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Read Peter’s other sexy stories here on Every Night Erotica.
Peter Rosier is a British author who has had work published in paper form (Mammoth Books, Sensorotika Press, Meat Grinder Press, etc) and on-line including Ruthie’s Club and Oysters and Chocolate. Work has also been scripted for Hong Kong television and performed on stage by fringe theatre in London.