Extreme Passions
Page 1
Synopsis
Forbidden Fruits: Over thirty tales of love and lust that know no bounds – or boundaries. Today’s hottest erotica writers explore just how far women will go to get the girl. Seduction, abduction, champagne and flowers, bondage … extreme moves that are sooo ero, they’re too good to miss.
Erotic Interludes 4: Extreme Passions
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Erotic Interludes 4: Extreme Passions
© 2006 Bold Strokes Books. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-274-0
This electronic book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.,
New York, USA
First Printing: October 2006
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editors: Radclyffe and Stacia Seaman
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover design by Sheri (graphicartist2020@hotmail.com)
Introduction
Love has often been compared to a psychosis, defined as the state of “profound disorganization of mind, personality, or behavior.” The same can be said of desire, in that there are times when passion drives us beyond the ordinary and into the extreme. If you think it could never happen to you, delve into stories of women pushed to the edge and beyond by love, desire, passion, or obsession. You might recognize someone you know and more than a few you’d like to in these simmering selections from over 30 of the boldest lesbian erotica writers around. The temperature never drops when there are no limits on pleasure.
Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe 2006
Dessert, Anyone?
VK Powell
I believe in eating dessert first. And Sophia was the delicacy I craved. Every night for a month she welcomed me to Antonio’s with a cheerful “buona sera” and arms outstretched.
Tonight her brown eyes cased my body as she added, “You late, but still I wait. Avanti!”
She was waiting for me? The comment tweaked my crotch as if it were tethered to her words. I felt the evidence of my arousal seep into my jeans. This was my last chance. Tomorrow another assignment loomed through my windshield and Antonio’s would vanish in my rearview mirror. The thought saddened me as I watched her.
Black silk pants hugged her curvaceous body and tapered at the legs just above perfectly shaped ankles. The matching leather vest molded to her firm breasts and midriff with nothing underneath. Around her neck, like gift wrapping, a white bowtie fit snugly. With a toss of her dark chestnut hair, she looked back, winked, and nodded toward the ocean.
“You like our restaurant. You come often.”
If you only knew, I thought—and it’s usually when I’m thinking of you. “Yes, but this is my last visit. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“No!” Her response was surprisingly intense, and I felt energized by it. “You can’t go.” Her face flushed deep pink as she took a few more steps, then linked her arm through mine.
I’d memorized every innocuous gesture of her hostess routine and imagined they were intended just for me. Night after night in the impersonal hotel room, I pawed my inflamed flesh and visualized Sophia yielding to every urge of my sexual repertoire. But now, in her presence, I followed like a rutting animal as she silently escorted me to the reserved seaside cabana.
“I’m sorry…” She looked up into my face and started to explain.
Without thinking I stroked her jawline and allowed my thumb to brush across her lips. I nibbled the side of my mouth. The urge to kiss her was so strong I felt an empty ache in the pit of my stomach.
She pointed ahead of us and tried again. “It’s just…I have so much for you.”
“I know it’ll be perfect,” I said in my most controlled voice. My brain flashed images of the ways I’d make love to Sophia. Her beautifully willing body offered like a feast, and I would devour her one sexually gratifying morsel at a time.
As we approached the rocky precipice that overlooked the ocean, a cluster of canvas gazebos swayed in the evening breeze. Their sides seemed to inhale and exhale with each gust. Salty sea mist clung to the air and settled around Sophia, making her glow in the moonlight. I wanted to strip her bare and watch as the illuminated spray consumed her body before I did the same.
She waved me into the tent with a smile and began our ritual. I walked past on unsteady legs and inhaled a deep breath of her warm jasmine fragrance. My body shivered from the light, flowery essence and my own imaginings. Her eyes took in my discomfort and seemed to sparkle with amusement.
Sophia reached for the Velcro tabs that held the woven fabric door of the enclosure apart. She gave me a questioning look and when I offered no objection, released the tabs. I’d eaten here often, but always with the door open to a view of the ocean. The pulse at my temple pounded as we were wrapped in our own private cocoon.
“Tonight we need…how you say…privates.”
“Privacy,” I corrected. “Yes, that would be very good.”
Miniature palm trees spotted with tiny white lights radiated from the corners. An oriental rug cushioned our steps and fluffy floor pillows were scattered throughout. I envisioned Sophia spread-eagled over the medallion in the center of the rug, begging to be taken, and I would oblige.
My skin dimpled with goose bumps as I felt her heat only inches from my own. She removed a linen damask tablecloth from a stainless steel cart and smoothed the folds over the small table with long, sensuous strokes. With the precision of a surgeon, she placed a setting and lit a candle in the table’s center.
Standing behind an upholstered dining chair, she patted the cushioned back and waited. I obeyed without hesitation. When I sat, warm hands rested on my shoulders, burning through the fabric of my shirt and branding her fingerprints into my skin.
“Comfortable?” she asked with a heavy Italian accent, kneading the tense muscles of my neck with strong fingers.
She’d never touched me so deliberately, and my insides turned liquid. I grabbed the seat with a white-knuckled grip. My composure was slipping, but for the moment I was content to let her orchestrate—to believe she was in charge.
Moving in front of me, she continued, “I think not yet.”
Her fingertips left an oversensitized trail as they slid down and released my hold on the chair. She opened my hand and traced the lines delicately to the ends of my aching digits. The tickling sensation quickly turned to heat. I tried to withdraw but her grip tightened.
“You have nice hands. I like the…roughness.”
Sophia lightly kissed my hands, then rested them on her hips. My breath came in ragged spurts. Her gaze locked on mine and dared me to look away. I couldn’t disappoint her any more than I could harness the energy that swelled inside.
Her body was hot against my palms. I fought the urge to bury my nails in her flesh. When my hand quivered against her, wanting desperately to close around her waist, she rubbed my arm with a soothing stroke.
“Sophia…” I wanted to say more but my courage failed.
“You relax, no? Tonight’s very special.”
One touch from her would’ve been enough for months of exaggerated fantasy and self-satisfaction.
But now she teased me like a lover, catering, caressing, complimenting, and appearing quite casual and unaffected while I melted into an oozing puddle.
Sophia unbuttoned my shirt sleeves and rolled each up just below my elbows. With every turn of fabric, her thumbs lightly grazed the inside of my arm and shot sparks between my breasts and clitoris. I closed my legs around the gathering moisture.
“You like that I feel you, no?” The uniquely chosen words and rhythm of her accent teased as much as her touch.
“I like everything about you, Sophia,” I admitted.
When the sleeves were perfectly cuffed, she stepped back, smiled at her handiwork, and said, “Now I get you a nice Chianti.” She retrieved a bottle of wine from the side bar, cradled it in a linen napkin, and offered it for inspection. “Gallo Nero, Chianti Classico.”
“Is my Italian getting rusty or did you just say Black Cock?” I asked.
“Si, is good.” Sophia poured a sip of the bright red liquid and handed it to me. As I took the glass, her fingers brushed across mine and lingered on the stem. Her skin was like creamy velvet.
I swirled the wine and inhaled the wild berry aroma. The spicy bouquet excited my nostrils, and my mouth watered as I raised the glass.
Sophia’s hand captured mine again. She dipped her well-manicured finger into the liquid, brought it slowly to her mouth, and sucked it in and out. As I watched her O-shaped mouth stroke the fortunate digit time after excruciating time, a gnawing hunger tightened in my pelvis.
“You want suck?” she asked, rimming her lips with the tip of her tongue.
The question landed on the pulsing tip at the vee of my thighs. I pressed my ass back in the chair and brought my hips forward against the stiff seam of my jeans. An appreciative moan choked in my throat as the compression released a flood. A series of small, inconspicuous butt raises kept the pressure tight against my sex as I tried not to hump.
Sophia knelt beside my chair, her face inches from my breasts.
My nipples hardened, already feeling her mouth close around them and her teeth torment their spiked tips. She immersed her finger into the wine again, brought it to my mouth, and allowed a single drop to fall onto my dry lips. My tongue darted out and captured the liquid sweetness. It was the most intoxicating combination of wine and woman. I rolled the droplet around in my mouth, savoring the flavor and its recent proximity to Sophia.
“You like the Chianti?” she asked, eyes focused and intense.
“Very much,” I managed to reply.
Sophia handed me the glass and rose from her kneeling position. “Enjoy. I bring you the menu.” She turned to walk away and looked back. “Everything’s different tonight.”
As she left me, the black silk pants caressed each rise and fall of her rounded buttocks. Her hips rocked gently from side to side, keeping her center warm and active. I wanted to bury my face in those thighs, to sink my teeth into her tits and finger-fuck her with eyes wide open.
As soon as Sophia exited the cabana, I grabbed the crotch of my faded jeans and milked my wet, tender flesh. My mind was a tortuous loop between the burning patches of skin she’d touched and my visual replay of them. Pleasure ran through me as I contracted and released my vaginal muscles. I fingered myself though the thick material in time to the clenching and unclenching. Blood rushed to my face and throat as my body tensed and I got harder and hotter. I just needed a quick come. I had no control when I was this horny.
My pulse hammered uncontrollably. I groaned, stifling a guttural scream, and prayed the crashing waves would provide audible cover. My left hand worked feverishly, rubbing and slapping the cloth barrier between me and instant gratification. The pressure was critical. I grabbed a handful of soaked denim, hair, and skin and pulled, desperate for release. My clitoris jerked spasmodically in my clenched fist. I was coming…finally. I needed this…
Just as I felt myself letting go, Sophia’s voice sounded softly outside the cabana. “I’m so sorry. I’ve bad news.”
When she entered, I stopped pulling my engorged clit and squeezed my legs together with a painful moan. She froze in the doorway staring as a look of confusion changed to recognition.
“You okay?” she asked, her eyes never leaving mine.
I shivered as I held back the need to explode in orgasm. I answered through clenched teeth, “Fine.” I knew she could see the lie on my face.
She stood beside me and raised the offending hand to her lips. A sly smile curled the corners of her mouth as she inhaled deeply. “The kitchen is closed. Everyone’s cleaning to go home. There is only dessert…and us.”
As I stared at her beautiful olive complexion and deep brown eyes, my insides still quivered with silent demands for gratification. I wanted to slide my finger into her mouth, feel the soft warmth close around it, and come as she sucked it slowly in and out of her perfectly shaped lips.
“I have what you need, bad, I think.”
I heard myself swallow to dislodge the air-constricting knot in my throat. Whatever she had, it wouldn’t take long to get me off. I just needed it now before I lost all dignity and finished myself with a few more strokes.
Sophia swung her right leg over my knees and lowered herself onto my lap, her eyes pleading. Desire bolted through me. I watched as Sophia bent her head toward me and our lips came together in slow motion. A light brush against my mouth and I opened to allow her thrusting tongue to enter.
The distinctive freshness of peppermint mixed with berry wine invaded my mouth as I sucked her tongue in. I’d waited impatiently for this moment and the first taste almost made me come. My entire body vibrated as my pelvis jerked with a series of tiny clenches.
I felt Sophia’s legs tremble as she straddled my lap. Her hands cupped my face and our lips slid reluctantly apart. “You kiss good, gives me the heat. Now I give you dessert,” she said.
She slowly unlaced the leather ties that held her vest together and dropped them on the floor. The garment hung open, revealing the gentle swell that rose toward concealed peaks. She stroked the center of her chest, then rubbed the leather material back and forth against her breasts, her eyes never leaving mine.
Voices sounded from outside, and I looked around nervously as other lights near our cabana were extinguished. “Will they be looking for you?”
“I tell you, relax. It’s okay. Sophia takes care of everything. Just feel me.”
When I reached for her, she captured my hands and placed them under her vest. My weathered skin touched the smoothness of hers and a low growl rumbled in my throat. It was as perfectly flawless as I’d imagined. She arched her back toward me and gasped as I massaged the fullness of her breasts in my palms, careful to guide her erect nipples between my fingers and prolong the touch her body told me she desperately wanted.
Sophia lowered her head and covered my lips with bruising kisses. I could feel her passion rising as she strained against my hands, which were still on her breasts. When I broke for air, I nibbled my way down the side of her neck and took a breast in my mouth. I sucked as much of the malleable flesh in as possible, applying and releasing pressure, then licking and scraping my teeth across the puckered tip. Sophia’s breathing quickened and she tilted her pelvis toward me. My clit felt like a heat-seeking missile wedged between my trembling thighs as I moved to bring us closer.
Slowly, Sophia pushed me back against the chair and sighed as she watched my eyes widen in disbelief.
“But I want…”
“Shush…” She placed her finger on my lips, then reached behind her and retrieved a steak knife from the place setting. I felt my facial expression shift and she whispered, “Don’t worry, it’s not for you.”
She spread her legs wide on either side of me, tightening the fabric of her pants. Then she grabbed the material, pulled it out from her body, and with a sawing motion of the knife teased a tiny hole in the crotch of the silk fabric. She dropped the knife, stuck her index finger into the hole, and ripped. The material peeled away exposing a
dark, neatly trimmed bush glistening with moisture.
My eyes wouldn’t leave the shimmering patch of her desire. The warm musk fragrance of sex wafted to my nostrils, and my mouth watered. I wanted to touch her, to bury my fingers inside and extract every ounce of the sweet cream.
Sophia brought her middle finger to my mouth. “Lick it.” I quickly obeyed.
Then she lowered her hand and her middle finger disappeared. Her butt rose from my lap as she thrust deeper, moaning and watching my face. She knew I was hurting and it turned her on.
“I make you hurt?”
“So bad, I need it now.”
I grabbed her buttocks and pulled her closer, burying my head in her breasts. I groaned, desperate to connect my raw mound with anything except the soaked crotch of my jeans. “I want you so much. Please let me touch you.”
Again, Sophia pushed me back against the chair. “You want this? It’s dessert—Sophia’s Delight. Tell me it’s good.”
She removed her finger from between her legs and rubbed it across my lips. I inhaled the familiar but unique fragrance as I opened my mouth to receive her gift. The creamy coating dissolved on my tongue, knotting my insides in ripples of pending orgasm. Waves of release started in my toes and climbed toward my center as I arched toward Sophia.
“You like dessert?” Her face glowed with a mixture of urgency and desire.
“Oh yeah,” I barely managed to mumble as shivers continued to gather in my core. I was out of control and didn’t want to be—not with her, not the first time.
“Now you feel me up.” Sophia placed my hand at the top of her thigh and moved against it.
I couldn’t stop. And she knew it.
I slid my fingers inside her as our mouths once again came hungrily together. The pace was slow and controlled. I wanted to be gentle, even though my body objected. She had other plans.