The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 12: Over 40 outstanding pieces of short erotic fiction (Mammoth Books)

by Jakubowski, Maxim

  “How are you?” Dr McConnelly’s pale blue eyes were focused on her, his position in the leather wingback chair relaxed but alert. God, he was good at his job.

  “The truth is I’ve been sexually needy all day.”

  He blushed, as he always did when they discussed sex. She’d seen him blush many times over the years. They both ignored it now. “Have you contacted your ‘friends’?”

  “I”ve been texting all day. No luck. But it’s Friday. Even for friends with benefits it’s a little late.”

  “Masturbation?”

  “There wasn’t time this morning. I suppose that’ll have to do tonight, but as you know after a certain point it just makes me blue. And I’ve reached that point.”

  “Hmmm. Shall we go over the list of things you aren’t going to do?”

  Nikki ticked off the items on her fingers as she recited them out loud. “I’m not going to approach any of my girlfriends’ husbands, even though Janet’s away for the weekend and her husband Graham clearly lusts after me.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m not going to pick up a strange man in a bar.”

  “Good.”

  “And I’m not going to order a male prostitute. Although I still don’t see what’s so terribly wrong with it.”

  “Shall we go over it again?”

  “Nah. I’ll take your word for it. Anyway, I promised to meet Paula for dinner.”

  “She’s the depressed friend who complains constantly?”

  “Yes. Maybe I should fuck her?”

  “But you’ve always said—”

  “That I’m not into women. But I’m thinking if I’m horny enough it won’t matter. They say a lot of the guys who give lap dances in gay clubs are straight. Just super-sexed. At a certain point they’ll do it with another guy, just to get off. Maybe it’d be like that for me. What do you think?’”

  “We’re all on the spectrum somewhere, with heterosexuality at one end and homosexuality at the other,” he shrugged. “I’m not suggesting it but I’m not vetoing it, either.”

  “I don’t think I could do Paula.” Nikki shuddered. “She’s too . . . lumpy. But there’s that new club in town, what’s it called? Velvet? Velvet and Iron? Maybe I should check that out?”

  “It’s Velvet Plus Iron. I believe it’s members only. For couples who swing.”

  Nikki flashed him a sexy smile. “In my experience, a supersexy single woman is always welcome.”

  “Tell me about this dinner with Paula. Will it be interminable?”

  The rest of the session unfolded smoothly. Nikki compartmentalized her desire for the good doctor by promising herself that, at the conclusion of their final fifty minutes together, which would be soon, she’d kiss his thin, ascetic lips if he didn’t kiss her lush, pretty painted lips first. It probably wouldn’t happen but it soothed her to think that it might.

  “I’ll see you next month,” he said as he wrote down their next appointment date and time.

  “Great,” she said.

  “Keep trying, every day, to spend a wee bit of time in reflection.”

  Nikki shivered. She adored his Irish accent, never more so than when he said “wee”.

  “Chilly?”

  “No. I just like the way you say “wee”. She batted her lashes. Maybe they’d kiss right now and consider it the end of her therapy?

  Dr McConnelly blushed again. It gave her a rush even as it silently admonished her. He handed her the appointment card and their fingertips touched. She shivered again.

  He turned away.

  Nikki steered herself out the door and onto the street. God fucking damn she wanted him. Instead, she faced dinner with Prozac Paula and her lengthy list of woes. Fuck.

  For the first half of the meal Nikki practically squirmed in her seat, she was so overdue for a good orgasm. She kept her cellphone on the table, where it passed the evening as it had passed the day – silent. Paula droned on about her mother and her job and her dieting woes. Nikki felt like screaming.

  Midway, Nikki abruptly switched gears. It was either that or go mad. Instantly, it was on the tip of her tongue to say, “Look, Paula, let’s just go to your place and make out.” She’d never been with a woman, not even a gorgeous one, so it was a good measure of her desperation that she’d even consider popping her girl/girl cherry with Paula. Nikki easily practised restraint until she could escape.

  Good fuck. Good fuck. Good fuck. Nikki’s heels tapped out a rhythm to the single phrase that thudded in her head and pulsed in her pussy. She was walking home, too impatient to descend to the subway or try to snag a cab. It was true that she had a rampant libido and that she was disinhibited. But it was also true that she needed a good fuck.

  It was easy to understand why she wasn’t to fuck any more of her friends’ husbands. Harder to understand, really, why she mustn’t pick up a stranger. After all, he wouldn’t be a stranger for long, would he? Almost impossible to get what was wrong with ordering up a male prostitute. But Dr McConnelly said no. Dr Mc Connelly said—

  The penny dropped. In fact it dropped with such force that, had it been a real penny it would’ve been as flat as if it’d been run over by a train. Dr McConnelly said the club was called Velvet Plus Iron. Dr McConnelly said the club was for members only. Now how on earth did her dear old Doctor know that?

  Nikki slid onto a stool at the polished mahogany bar of Velvet Plus Iron. She let her skirt ride up until the tops of her black stayups were exposed. She’d undone the top three buttons of her crisp white dress shirt and hung up her jacket. Now she hooked one heel over the foot rail on the bar and smiled at the barkeep. “A glass of chardonnay,” she said.

  When it arrived she was surprised at the way her hand shook when she picked it up. She was excited, she knew that much. Her pulse was pounding in her ears and her cheeks were hot to the touch. But so excited her hands shook? Perhaps she’d obeyed the dictates of her boundaries for entirely too long. After all, a girl’s got to have some fun.

  She glanced around from beneath half-closed lids. The club was dark, the tables lit with little lamps and the dance floor illuminated only by spot lights. It was crowded with couples, most of them making out madly. Fuck. It’d been easy to get in but what if she really wasn’t welcome here without a mate to swap? What if he wasn’t here? She’d been so sure he would be she hadn’t actually considered . . .

  “Hi.” A tiny, voluptuous redhead leant on the bar, too close for politeness, which suited Nikki just fine.

  “Hi. Um – I don’t have a mate so I’m just wondering if it’s OK for me to be here.”

  “It’s certainly OK with me. My name’s Amy.” The woman held out her hand.

  “I’m um . . .” Nikki took her hand with her own. The other woman’s palm was small and fleshy in hers.

  “You don’t have to use your name if you don’t want to,” Amy grinned. “That’s my husband over there.” She jerked her head towards a dark corner. The man could be – he leant into the light to wave. It was him.

  A wave of relief washed over Nikki, leaving in its wake a desperate desire in her loins, so deep it was almost hard.

  Dr McConnelly smiled and mouthed. “Hi.”

  “He’s quite a bit older than you,” said Nikki.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Let’s dance.”

  Nikki allowed Amy to lead her to the dance floor. The smaller woman took the lead, steering Nikki around with practised ease. Nikki was a bit wooden at first but she relaxed quickly. It was fun.

  When Dr McConnelly joined them he kissed his wife on the mouth, then took over her position, dipped Nikki, and kissed her, too.

  Nikki was so excited she moaned when their mouths met. Their electricity, connected at last, zapped swiftly through their bodies, leaving her breathless.

  “Shall I go up to the room?” Amy asked her husband.

  He nodded. “We’ll join you shortly.”

  “Yes, Sir,” said Am
y.

  Sir? Doc-tor! Nikki melted into his arms. He pressed her close to his chest and bent his head to nibble her ear lobes and neck at his whim, all the while leading her in a series of dances that included the rumba, the cha-cha and a waltz that was a whirl around and around the dance floor that left her panting. Fun!

  “Enough foreplay,” he said. “Come on.”

  He led her from the dance floor to an elevator at the far end of the bar.

  “What do I call you?” Nikki snagged her jacket from the rack as they rushed past.

  “Jack.” He pressed the button and the elevator doors opened. “Or Sir. Depends.”

  “Has my therapy officially ended?” Nikki followed him into the car.

  “Oh yes.” As the doors closed he was already gathering her into his arms for another long, breathtaking kiss.

  She’d been walking in high heels ever since she’d hit her teens, but as soon as they were inside the hotel room she kicked hers off.

  “It’s either that or you stop kissing me,” she said apologetically to Jack. “I’m weak in the knees.”

  In response he picked her up and carried her to the king-sized bed, where Amy already reclined, stripped down to her pink bustier and hose. Nikki squealed in genuine surprise, once when Jack had effortlessly swooped her off her feet and again when she tumbled onto the bed beside Amy.

  “I’ve never kissed a woman before,” Nikki managed to blurt out before it was no longer true. Amy’s mouth was soft on hers and Nikki willingly parted her lips when a curious little tongue tip invited her to. This kiss was familiar in a way, lips on lips, tongue teases and touches, and yet completely opposite to the kisses she’d just enjoyed with Dr— with Jack. Whereas he had possessed her with his mouth, sending shock waves throughout her body, Amy’s kiss was a light, delightful sensation, more sensual than sexy, warming Nikki as a comforter might, rather than scorching her from the inside out.

  Masculine hands relieved Nikki of her blouse, skirt, bra and panties while feminine caresses kept her distracted. Amy’s lips had travelled down her neck and were following her fingers to Nikki’s breasts when she felt a strong, lean, decidedly male body press against her from behind.

  “Relax,” whispered Jack. “Lean into me.” He slid his arm under hers and cupped her breast, presenting it to Amy’s eager mouth. He hooked his other hand under one of her knees and gently parted her legs, then slid his fingers up her inner thigh until they were pressed against her mound.

  Amy nipped and sucked her nipple until it was as hard and pink as the eraser on a pencil. Nikki arched back against Jack, trapping his erection in the cleft of her bum, the tip bumping wetly against the base of her spine.

  Jack tortured her with his fingers by gently stroking her pelt without dipping more than the pad of one finger into the slit, making her labia stay furled when Nikki was desperate for them to be splayed.

  “Please . . .” she whispered, “help me.”

  Jack crooned in her ear. “You’re doing just fine. Be patient.”

  “I can’t stand it.”

  “You can.” He spoke more firmly, in a stern manner she’d never heard before. “You will.”

  “Yes . . . Sir,” she whispered. The subservience of it sent a thrill through her, instantly replaced by a fierce desire to find out what disobedience would incite.

  “Amy, gorgeous Amy, please suck my clit just exactly as you’ve sucked my nipple, I need to . . .”

  Amy’s surprised look blurred as Nikki was swiftly tilted to expose her ass to the air. Before she could draw a breath the hand that had caressed her pussy with infinite care came down hard on one cheek and then the other, the sound as surprising and sharp as the pain.

  “Wait! I’m not ready!” Nikki struggled against his other arm, now firmly pressed against her chest so that her upper back was pinned to his chest while her bottom was left free to wiggle and blush with each blow.

  “You’re way past ready, girl,” he muttered. He raised his hand higher, which resulted in a harder, louder smack.

  Nikki didn’t struggle long; it was pointless and the blows that missed their mark due to her movement hurt more than the ones that landed on the plumpest part of her ass. Besides, she found she couldn’t catch her breath and when she finally did she started to moan, because by then her ass was on fire and the heat had somehow ignited a flame in her clit.

  “Are you going to behave?” Jack still spanked her, as strong and steady as ever.

  “Yes. Yes!”

  “Do what you’re told?”

  “I promise!”

  Still the spanking continued. Nikki soared completely past pain to pleasure . . . then back to pain. The salty taste of tears wet her lips.

  Amy leant in to lick them from her cheeks. “Sir,” she whispered.

  “I promise to be good, Sir!” Nikki shrieked.

  “All right then,” he said. The beating stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Jack released Nikki and she collapsed back against him once more.

  “Amy, why don’t you lick this little slave’s pussy?” Once again, Jack parted Nikki’s knees with his hand. This time, instead of a maddening little stroke, Nikki felt the tip of Amy’s tongue circle the circumference once, twice, three times before it started lapping at her clit.

  “Oh God, oh thank you, Sir,” mumbled Nikki. She ground her fiery ass against his rigid length, not caring, in fact enjoying, the pain it caused. She was desperate. Not for cock, but for his cock.

  Jack hitched up behind her and a moment later the rubbery head nudged her slick pussy lips apart. He jerked up hard, sinking the first few inches of his manhood into her aching hole.

  Instantly, she began to moan.

  The second thrust introduced another few inches. With each subsequent stroke Jack’s cock travelled further up her tunnel, stretching it to fit. And Amy’s tongue still circled her clit, her lips now wrapped around it like a second sheath.

  It was good, so good to have her cunt perfectly attended to at last. Of course it would take two people, one sucking her clit and one fucking her hole, to do it right. Of course one should be a girl, same as her, non-threatening, helpful even, and the other should be a man, a stern, hard man with a firm hand to make a girl behave. Of course.

  Nikki’s pussy was as hot, now, as her punished bum. Her need for release reached boiling point. The orgasm rushed like steam through her body, scorching her nerves and making her shriek. It would kill her before it made good its escape!

  “Stop!” She didn’t mean it as an order; it was a plea. But it was ignored by her two new lovers. The woman in front kept lapping at her clit while the man behind thrust faster and deeper, fucking her through the scary, scalding part of the orgasm and into the part where it gentled to a rolling boil.

  Finally, when Nikki was little more than a limp, occasionally shuddering shape on the bed, they relented and withdrew.

  She watched as Jack’s cock disappeared between the cheeks of his curvy wife’s undulating ass. It didn’t shock her that he smacked Amy’s bum a dozen times, plundering it all the while, before he reached around to make her climax. She was a little surprised at how loud he was when he came, not at all surprised at the extent of Amy’s ecstasy.

  “Now for a wee nap,” Jack said. “When we wake up, you’ll return Amy’s gift of oral sex and give me one of your infamous blow jobs.”

  “Yes, Sir,” said Nikki.

  “If everything works out,” he said, “Amy and I just might keep you.”

  “Oh?” Now this was a big surprise.

  “Uh huh,” said Amy. “We’re done with swapping, Nikki. We’d like a third to share with each other and some of our good friends.” She gave Nikki a big wet kiss and cuddled up against her. Jack spooned her from behind.

  It should have felt strange, but, as Nikki drifted into a dreamless sleep, she felt right at home.

  Flesh and Stone

  Sacchi Green

  A scarlet-crested helmet shadowed the face above me. To have seen
even that much could provoke beating, if the prospective buyer took offense; I cast my eyes downward and willed my body to the stillness of any inanimate work of art.

  “What price for this one?” The voice was low, husky – and female. Something close to hope rippled across my skin. Even in my former master’s secluded villa, and more so while shackled in the slave market, I had heard of the woman champion. The very air of the capital vibrated with more tales of her than could possibly be true.

  The trader, shaken, stumbled over his recitation of my virtues. “A . . . a rare golden pearl, Lady, from the house of the late epicure Mendelas, well known in the south. Young, beautiful, trained in all the arts of pleasure, skilled enough to satisfy any . . . ah . . . any desires, adaptable to any taste.”

  I dared raise my eyes for an instant and met amusement in hers. His desperate attempt to avoid saying “any man’s desires” had not been lost on her.

  “Girl.”

  I raised my eyes again, looking into hers deeply enough to draw out some hint of her mood.

  “Can you cook?”

  “Yes, Lady, but only simply.”

  “Can you mend cloth and leather?”

  “I was taught as a child, Lady, before . . .” The slaver’s grip tightened. I hoped he would not forget that bruises lowered my value. “Yes, Lady. I was raised in the horse tribes.”

  “Then you know something of handling horses, as well.”

  The trader sidled in front of me. “If it is a maidservant your eminence wishes, I have others less costly.”

  “Than this ‘rare pearl’?” Impatience edged her voice. “What price for her?”

  Rattled, he named a sum scarcely larger than he hoped to get, and she disdained to haggle. I let myself breathe again. I knew already that I would follow this mistress anywhere, do any task, be anything she desired. I did not read in her eyes the sort of interest he assumed, but in time . . . who could tell? The trader had not exaggerated my skills.