The Mammoth Book of Erotic Stories

by Barbara Cardy

  “Melissa?”

  She looked up from her pad and saw five suits staring back at her. Her cheeks flushed. They had asked her a question, but she did not have a clue what it was. This was an absolute first. She searched for an excuse, for a way out of the situation.

  “I’m sorry, guys,” she said, trying to look as calm as possible. “I guess I was distracted for a moment there. I’ve been trying to work out a plan of action for that meeting I have next week. I apologize. I’m all ears now.”

  The men all nodded. The moment of drama was over. Melissa knew that she saw a satisfied look on their lips. It was a rare moment that she was the one looking awkward and unprofessional. They all savored the moment, because they knew it was unlikely that there would be another.

  Back in her office, Melissa kept checking her emails. There was nothing. She wondered whether he had lost interest, or just achieved his goal. And so Melissa was a little deflated when she left the office on Friday evening.

  She distracted herself by taking a trip to the gym. She had allowed her four-times-a-week gym visits – often a difficult commitment considering her demanding work schedule – to slip the last week. Melissa cursed herself for letting her high standards dip.

  The gym was quiet. Most people had better things to do on a Friday night. Melissa often felt self-conscious wearing her shorts, because she knew that displaying her long legs usually brought unwanted male attention. Now, however, her mind was wandering too much to even care. She worked hard on the running machines, increasing both the incline and the pace. Sweat trickled down the spine of her back. Her heart rate was raised to a whole new level. Melissa took a swig of water and a short break, and then moved on to the weights.

  Melissa worked her leg muscles. Her legs were naturally lean and slender, but it took great effort to keep them looking so firm and shapely. She completed three sets of leg raises and then she worked her inner and outer thighs, pushing her legs wide and slowly returning to a central position. As she tested her muscles, she became aware that her panties had stretched and strained, pulling high between the lining of her sex. The cotton fabric rubbed teasingly against her stiffening clit. It was a nice sensation. She adjusted her position on the machine to allow them to ride up even further. A hot flush covered the top of Melissa’s chest. She sensed a guy sitting on the machine opposite checking her out. She wondered whether he could tell that she was getting turned on. Melissa had to admit that she liked the thought that he could.

  She was keen to get into the pool area, to sit back and relax. She changed into her swimming costume and sank into the deep Jacuzzi. It was completely empty. The warm water and the bubbles soothed her aching muscles. The water pressure felt good against her tingling body. Melissa took a discreet look around. There were only a few men in the pool area, and they were all absorbed in a conversation at the other side of the pool. She closed her eyes and then pulled her swimming costume to one side.

  Melissa gently circled her erect clit with the tip of her middle finger. The combination of her own caresses and the pressure of the warm water pulsating against her exposed sex was titillating. She could sense her bud throbbing under her touch. She pressed her finger against it firmer and felt it tensing up. Her body began to shake, to vibrate under the water. Her breathing became faster, less controlled. Melissa tensed for one long, explosive moment before her body sank back into complete relaxation. She opened her eyes again and peered around the poolside. Nobody had noticed a thing.

  The next day was a long one. Melissa was desperate for release. She needed to get on with her life again. And yet, her normal robotic routine was becoming less and less appealing. She was almost scared by how different she felt.

  Saturday night was again spent alone. Sat watching tedious repeats on television, Melissa questioned her work–life balance. Just before midnight, when she was considering going to bed with a steaming mug of cocoa, her mobile phone vibrated. It was a text message.

  Come to the Caledonian Club on Sun Hill Street at 03.50. The club closes at 01.00, and so will be empty. There is a back entrance, which will be open. Make yourself comfortable at the bar. Then, apply a blindfold, and wait . . .

  Melissa read the message again, and then again. She was horrified. Attending a deserted club in the middle of the night? And blindfolded? It seemed such a scandalous idea. Melissa considered texting back with a multitude of questions, but she knew that there would be no response. She thought about going to bed and forgetting about the whole thing.

  The back of the club was down a dark alley. Melissa checked her watch: 03.50. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy metallic door. Only a few lights were on in the main bar. The room looked meticulous. The cleaners had come and gone. It was strange to think that, only hours before, the bar would have been filled with music and laughter. Melissa helped herself to a gin from behind the bar, and perched down on a high stool. She pulled out a black silk scarf from her handbag, and then carefully tied it around the back of her head, covering her eyes.

  And then she waited.

  “You will do everything I tell you to. Everything.”

  It was the voice from the phone. Melissa inhaled his strong, masculine scent. She wondered, from beneath the blindfold, what the man looked like. His hands were quickly cupping her round breasts, pulling them out of her black low-cut dress. Melissa just knew that her little buds were hard to the touch, upturned, pointing to the ceiling. She also knew that the man was just warming her up, preparing for the events to follow.

  “You can use your mouth as much as you want, but do not use your hands.” There was warning in his words.

  Melissa felt strong arms lift her from her feet, and then lower her onto a smooth flat surface, which she presumed was a table. Her French panties were removed. “Move your hands and feet to the corners.” The velvety folds of her sex parted. Melissa knew that her sex would be glistening, soaking to the touch.

  She gripped the edge of the table with her hands. Melissa heard the unzipping of a fly, then the lowering of trousers. She sensed a body crouching over her. A rough texture brushed over her trembling lips. She opened her mouth wider, sucking in the heavy scrotum. She had never before tasted a man without the aid of her eyes. Now, the sensation was heightened, more intense. She sucked on each ball in turn, kissing and licking, the touches delicate and delicious. She felt and heard the subtle clicking of cuffs being secured around her wrists and ankles.

  And then he pulled away. His mouth pressed against her lips. His tongue slipped inside, brushing against and caressing her own. The kisses on her lips had become more urgent, more animalistic. A hot tongue sizzled between her thighs, parting her labia and entering her hole. For an agonizing moment, Melissa was confused, completely dazed.

  There were two of them.

  Melissa was not able to think clearly. Her mind had been rendered numb, her body defenceless. She attempted to draw back her legs, to grip them around the neck of her predator. It was in vain. Her feet were restrained. She tried to move her hands, to direct attention to her most sensitive, needy areas. She tugged, but they would not move either. Realizing that she had no control whatsoever, Melissa surrendered to whatever pleasures she was to be submitted to.

  The familiar voice whispered in her ear. “I want you to tell both of us what sort of a girl you are.”

  Saliva trickled from the edge of Melissa’s mouth. “I’m a bad girl, a very bad girl.”

  The tone remained the same – calm and placid. “And tell us what you would like us to do with you.”

  Melissa was writhing on the table now, desperate for more attention. “I want you to fuck me, really hard. Make me come.”

  The men spoke no more words. Melissa released a loud, hungry groan as she felt a thick cock enter inside her, stretching her sex. A long throbbing cock was lowered into her open, eager mouth. The thrusts grew longer, faster, harder. Melissa needed to spit out the delicious cock from her mouth to release a scream. Her face shook from sid
e to side. A firm hand held it by the cheeks and then pressed the cock back inside her mouth as the first wave of orgasm overcame her body, and then, instantly, a second.

  A warm, sticky finger traced to the index of her anus, and then pressed inside. Another finger entered, forcing a wanton moan from Melissa.

  Her body cried out for attention, and even a momentary delay was absolute agony. She sensed subtle movements. She knew that the men had swapped positions. Her suspicions were confirmed because the taste and feel of the new cock in her mouth was different. Melissa loved the sensation of being filled in all of her holes. She wanted as much cock as she could get. She wanted to be a greedy slut. Her wish was granted when the wicked fingers penetrating her arse were replaced by the biggest, thickest dick that Melissa had ever experienced. Her body trembled as it thrust right to her core.

  Melissa had had anal sex only once before, and it had been painful and intrusive. Now it felt like the most natural, glorious pleasure imaginable. The man squeezed and fondled her taut arse cheeks before slapping them hard with his bare hand. She sensed the sharp movements of his hand before it snapped down on her pink skin. Her buttocks felt alive with pain. Melissa heard her own shrieks of pleasure. Only, it was as if they belonged to another being.

  She not only wanted to taste the cock that was in her mouth, she wanted to touch and stroke it too. Right now, she wanted it all.

  “I want to wank you until you come in my mouth,” Melissa purred, but when she tried to reach for him, she realized that, frustratingly, she was still restricted by the handcuffs. To her delight, the man responded. There was a subtle clicking. Her hands were free to roam.

  Melissa pushed the man back with surprising force, before greedily taking him in her hand and massaging the tip. It was slippery from pre-come and her own saliva.

  Melissa rubbed her nimble hand up and down the shaft. One of the men moaned. She had no idea which one. The cock in her hand twitched and throbbed. The thrusts between her legs came harder and faster. She knew that both men were about to lose control.

  The thought of what was about to happen pushed Melissa over the edge. Both her body and the table shook as she reached another, thunderous orgasm.

  Just as she sensed that she could take no more, that she would pass out if she were offered any more pleasure, she felt the cock in her hand throbbing.

  “Stick it in my mouth,” she breathlessly demanded. “I want to taste you.”

  The thick cock was pushed between her lips. She felt frantic spurts, and then delicious salty juices flowed down her throat. The man gripped tightly on her blonde hair as he released a loud, animalistic moan. Melissa swallowed as much as she could, but was still aware of some juices trickling down her chin. Almost instantaneously she felt the man in her arse tense. His strong hands clasped tightly to her hips. She heard him moan, “Oh fuck, yes,” before her warm welcoming buttocks were filled with his flowing juices.

  There were a few moments of absolute stillness, and then Melissa heard muffled, composed movements around her. She knew that the men were dressing. There were two soft, delicate kisses on her lips. She heard a door shutting. And then there was silence.

  Melissa lay on the table for quite some time, composing herself and regaining some energy. When she pulled her feet, they were no longer restrained. She untied the scarf around her eyes, and refocused her vision to the outside world. The bar was once again empty. She checked her watch. It was six o’clock.

  Monday morning came and Melissa was once again focused on her work. She did not dare to get involved with the rest of her team. She was not aware of what was going on outside the perimeters of her office. At twenty past one her decaffeinated coffee was delivered as usual by the handsome guy from the canteen. Again, Melissa allowed herself a cursory look over the tip of her glasses.

  “You’re decaffeinated coffee as usual, Melissa,” he said. She looked up startled. It was the first time that she had heard him speak. And yet, the voice was all too familiar.

  “Oh and Gareth wanted me to hand you this.” He smiled, and then he turned and was out of the door.

  The more and more familiar feeling of being out of control returned. Melissa tore open the envelope in her hands.

  Dear Melissa

  I start my new job today. I think you have now found out how far you can push me before I start taking control. I hope that you enjoyed the role reversal as much as I have.

  Take care,

  Gareth

  EROTICA

  Volume 12

  Edited by

  Barbara Cardy

  LIGHT REFRESHMENT

  Dita Darker

  The summer weather was hot and expectant and the air in the enclosed space was heavy and sweaty, a slight reek of stale, pungent sweat hanging listlessly in the air. Faith Ellis hated the train at the best of times, but a flat tyre had forced her to take the train to Georgeton to meet her best friend Sarah for lunch.

  Good old British Rail, she thought to herself, the hottest summer since records began and no bloody air conditioning. Impatiently, she stood up and opened the last unopened window in the near-empty carriage in a futile attempt to get some fresh air moving around the train. She noticed as she did that the gorgeous young blond man opposite turned his head to take in her holiday-tanned legs and short denim skirt. As she sat down she was aware that his eyes stayed on her, eyeing her small, firm breasts, bra-less in a flimsy silk halterneck top. She smiled slightly to herself as she flicked her dark bobbed hair away from her face and settled back into her seat. He was definitely sporty, she thought, and good-looking. Under his messy blond hair and pale eyebrows were eyes the colour of the sea and an upturned nose smattered with freckles above a full mouth filled with straight white teeth.

  Her appraisal was interrupted by the arrival of the ticket inspector. He was a balding, middle-aged man with large patches of sweat visible on his stiff blue uniform. His bulbous, pitted nose and angry red complexion hinted at poor temper and poorer health. The blond man shifted from his seat to prize a ticket from the rear pocket of his board shorts, his well-defined bottom pushing tantalizingly against the gaudy fabric. Then it was Faith’s turn to purchase her ticket.

  “A single to Georgeton, please.” She rummaged in her bag for her purse.

  “Four pounds, please.”

  Faith’s heart sank as she realized, after much rummaging, that despite finding a fistful of change, her purse was nowhere to be found and she was still fifty pence short. She cursed silently to herself. “Oh no, I’m sorry,” she said out loud, “I don’t have enough – can you take my address or something and we can sort it out?” Her cheeks burned.

  “Not bloody likely,” the inspector said in a strong Yorkshire accent. “If you think that I’m going to do you any favors then you’ve got another think coming. If I . . .”

  Just then the blond man jumped out of his seat, having been watching the proceedings with interest. “Here,” he said, in a distinctly Antipodean accent, rummaging in his pockets and producing a fifty-pence piece. The inspector looked at the cash reluctantly, begrudgingly accepting the coin before moving on to the next carriage.

  Faith’s face was burning with embarrassment. She pushed her sunglasses off her face onto the top of her head.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I normally have money, you know, it’s just—”

  “Hey,” he interrupted, with an easy smile that made Faith warm to him immediately, “it happens to us all at some time or another. Anyway, there’s nothing I won’t do for a lady in distress!”

  She smiled back, easily lured by his charming smile, likeable accent and cheeky demeanor. She guessed that he was in his early twenties, which made him a good ten years her junior.

  Encouraged by her genuine smile, he moved seats so that he was sitting directly across from her. “Zak.” He offered Faith a huge pawlike hand. His arms were muscular, the veins large and prominent beneath a light fur of blond hair. His hand was warm and his grip firm. He eyed her up a
nd down. “And you are?”

  “Faith.”

  They chatted easily as the train trundled on, letting passengers off at several small stations. Zak was a student of marine science and, as she had guessed, also a keen surfer. He was in the UK for a semester on exchange and by all accounts was loving every minute of it. Faith grudgingly let him know that she was an accountant and was glad that he seemed impressed rather than making the usual assumption that men made that being good with numbers meant boring.

  “Married?” he asked. She shook her head. “What? A gorgeous, smart, sexy-as-hell girl like you? Man, if I was married to you I would . . .”

  Pregnant pause. Loaded silence. Eye contact. With impeccable timing, the train shuddered to a halt and the elderly lady two rows down shuffled off with her tartan shopping bag, leaving the carriage empty. Faith was already hot from the closeness of the weather and the impending storm, but now the air was so thick she could think of only one thing that would clear the dizzying vacuum. Already perspiring lightly, she became acutely aware of a different kind of wetness, that of her own juices seeping onto her pale cotton panties. As the train was again pushed into reluctant noisy motion, Zak was still looking intently at her. The pause was broken as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, attempting to rearrange his shorts to accommodate his bulging package.

  Later Faith would put what followed down to summer madness, but at that moment she was intensely aware of what she was doing even as she was surprised by her own boldness. Deliberately, she moved so that she was on the seat next to Zak, one leg tucked beneath her and one leg on the floor. She leaned into his ear, one hand softly stroking the hard bulk of his manly thighs.