The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 17: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women

by Lawson, Victoria

  The next few days went by in a blur, though Kristi couldn't help but wonder about Mark. Was it really just a misunderstanding? If you lied for a good reason, was it still bad to lie? She wanted to see him, to perhaps give him another chance, but it seemed to her that to do so would mean bending too many of her own internal maxims.

  After almost a week she'd have realized that she had just about forgotten about him. If, that is, she thought about it. But she didn't.

  Then one day she thought she was being followed when she was on her way to a luncheon with some girls from work. Kristi chalked it up to a feeling and nothing more as she could never seem to spot the same car twice in her rear view mirror, as much as she tried.

  Those feelings grew over the next few days, though she could never put a car to the feeling. Many times she felt she was on the verge of identifying her imagined pursuer, but then the car in question would turn off.

  Finally she shrugged it off as her own paranoia. A few more weeks passed and the feelings finally passed.

  It was a Friday when things seemed to change. Out of nowhere she got two dozen roses delivered to her office, but without a card, which piqued her curiosity to no end. Frustratingly the delivery service had broken the stem of one of the roses, leaving it to hang limp and rather lifeless.

  Getting home in the middle of a horrendous rainstorm did not improve her day in the slightest. Not only was it the beginning of yet another slow weekend without a date or any real plans, but the forecast called for more of the same. Kristi realized that she wouldn't even have the chance to work on her tan.

  So she spent her Friday night watching a Mad Men marathon. At least, she thought, Jon Hamm gave her at least enough man candy to feel slightly hot and bothered. After running through around seven of her favorite episodes and half a bottle of her favorite red wine she decided to call it a night and slipped into bed. Usually it took more wine to really make her feel this tipsy, but no matter.

  She'd only been in bed a few moments, barely enough time to enjoy the feel of her satin sheets against her silky legs, when she noticed something. There was an odd glow coming from between the slats of her bedroom closet. Strangely, it wasn't the pale green glow she was used to from the relay box of her security system. Tonight it looked rather orange or perhaps even yellow. Recalling something in the recesses of her mind from the installer that a change in color may be indicating that the batteries needed replacing, she got up to take a look.

  Even though Kristi had only been in bed a few minutes she found the need to shake off the cobwebs that were already in her head from both exhaustion and the wine, so she took her time covering the ten feet over to her closet door.

  She swore when she was only a yard away she heard a quick intake of air - and the orange glow went out.

  Suddenly full of fright, Kristi turned and made to go for her nightstand and her cell phone. After only turning around and taking a step she heard a crash from behind her. Knowing it was the closet door she lunged across her bed for the phone but felt something suddenly grab her by the ankles. Twisting in mid-air, she landed on her back on her bed. The phone was still tantalizingly out of her reach.

  Looking down, she saw a figure clothed entirely in black at the foot of her bed with one arm firmly locked around her feet and ankles. Her nostrils were suddenly filled with the scent of stale sweat and pure hatred.

  "Fuck!" she screamed, trying to kick herself free and give her enough traction on her smooth sheet to reach the phone. "What the hell do you want, you crazy fuck!"

  With that, her dark visitor took one of his hands away from her lower legs and ripped off the woolen mask which had covered his head.

  "Hello, love," Mark said. "Thought you'd be rid of me so soon, my sweet?"

  "What the hell are you doing here? I told you I don't want to see you!" As soon as she'd said it, Kristi realized how insipid she sounded, but she could also tell that she was on the verge of total panic. She'd had fun with Mark and even slept with him; and now what were his plans?

  "Well that is for me to know and you to find out," Mark replied, though somehow without the implied silliness of the childhood taunt. "I shan't be ignored, Kristi."

  "What do you want? I will do anything, just don't hurt me!"

  "Well," Mark replied, in a voice thick and heavy with scorn. "That is something we can talk about."

  Mark relaxed the grip his one remaining arm had on Kristi's legs, and she took this as her queue. She lunged across the bed for her nightstand, but Mark was faster. Falling almost on top of her, he knocked her cell phone off the table and against the wall, and Kristi could tell from the sound that the case had come off and the battery was most likely disengaged as well.

  But the phone hadn't been what Kristi was going for. She knew she wouldn't have time to dial 911 before Mark took the phone from her. Rather, her hand reached out for the wrought iron lamp base which was just beside the phone. Given Mark's preoccupation with the phone, she felt her fingers wrap around the base firmly.

  In a split second, Kristi pulled herself up on one elbow and with the other arm backhanded Mark in the skull with the heavy metal lamp. Nothing happened.

  Mark slowly turned to look at Kristi. He tried to say something, but whatever it was, she never heard it. As the first syllable started to come out, she hit him again with the lamp. The flow of blood which had started with the first blow became a torrent with the second. She saw Mark's eyes roll and he gurgled and collapsed on the bed on top of her. With some effort, Kristi kicked his body off of her onto the floor.

  She paused a few moments to gather her breath and make sure Mark wasn't moving. He seemed to be breathing, but barely. This was quite fine with her. Realizing she needed to call the police she got up to find the piece to her phone and get them back together.

  Standing, she found herself surprisingly woozy from the ordeal - though she thought adrenaline would offset any effects from the wine from earlier. Staggering strangely, she found the back to the phone and eventually the battery.

  Then everything went black. She felt the soft pile of her carpet as her face hit it.

  ***

  [Hope you liked the story and don't forget your 8 complimentary books, which you may find a download link to on the last page of this collection, just after the 11th story ends. Now, on to the next story!]

  Sex in the Naked City -

  Hearts Burn in a Sleepless City

  by

  Lori Dixon

  “ROSEBUD,” he whispered…

  Jane’s head leaned back and she let her hair drop while Jarvis twisted ever so slightly harder. With the other hand, he made circles with his fingertips over her sex and felt the dampness bleed around his digits. Her eye drifted down to the bench and then to the pavement that wrapped around the park. Passing cars and bystanders with one whiskey too many in their bellies slowed as they tried to make out if the illicit sight before them was every bit as tantalizing as it seemed. Jane knew they were being watched and that only made her grow wetter. Jarvis, meanwhile, was too preoccupied with lubricating his good lady to notice the gazes.

  “We should go,” Jane grunted through her feelings of delight.

  “Go?” Jarvis looked up. “That’s sort of my specialty. Where to?”

  “Not far… there isn’t much light back there,” she replied while signaling the park behind them.

  Jane led Jarvis deeper into the trees that surrounded their encounter on the bench. The long, hard branches growing out from the limbs protected the two lovers as they pushed each other against a mighty oak. Only a slither of moonlight was available to guide them towards their impending ecstasy. Jarvis kissed Jane’s neck. In turn, she gently unzipped his trousers and reached inside. He was well hung and well stiff.

  She dug her palms deeper after releasing the snake from its cage. The rocks beneath the staff dangled right into her grip. Jane pinched the skin and felt them slip back and forth between her fingers. Jarvis straightened his back and sighed. A cool
gust of breath emanated from his teeth. Jane let herself drop down while maintaining her grip on Jarvis’ package. He took his hand and ran it through her hair, resting it firmly against her skull. He stifled his moans as she worked his shaft. His soft groans reached all the way down to her thighs as they tensed up according to his own pleasure.

  Like Jane’s, Jarvis’ blood rushed madly over the possibility of an officer or a sinister teen catching the two in the act. He throbbed more and more as the thought raced around his head, then down to his stomach, and finally down to the recesses of his loins. He started to shake.

  “Are you okay?” Jane looked up.

  “I’m so close,” Jarvis sighed.

  Jane raised her eyebrows and smiled. She plunged further down his mighty pole, bobbing up and down like the drill caged inside an oil derrick. The driver could contain himself no longer. He let loose the geyser that was stewing so intensely inside. He breathed and moaned for her. Jane let all the salty goodness rain down into her throat. After coming up for air, she wiped her mouth. Jarvis grabbed her forearms and helped her get steady on her feet again.

  “Shall we?” She purred. “The night is young…”

  ***

  A HAND helped to slip off Julia’s blue gown. Totally exposed, she allowed that hand to cup itself around her breast along with the other.

  “Did you miss me?” Julia softly asked.

  “You know the answer to that,” said Roger as he held her and brought her closer to him. He remained in his newly pressed tuxedo for a time. After stroking her cheeks, Roger bent Julia over the penthouse window that looked straight down into the heart of New York City’s nightlife. The city was theirs and they were about to show everyone what a truly passionate encounter looked like.

  Julia and Roger had been seeing each other for the past few months. They met at the indulgent half-birthday party of Teresa, a mutual friend who was the husband of a magazine publishing executive. They had flirted over a champagne glass or two in between pretending to get along with the other sycophantic guests.

  In a town fueled so fervently by gossip, their meetings since always took place at the Waldorf for fear of resurrecting themselves as lightning rods for rumors. Their relationship thus far was strictly casual, but oftentimes, Julia wondered if Roger had any regard for her beyond as a facilitator for sexual congress.

  Roger smiled slyly as he undressed himself, his eyes drinking in the crevices of Julia’s perfect backside. The contents of his outfit dropped to the floor like snowflakes. When he was as natural as she, his powerful hands massaged her ankles and thighs. His tongue grew longer until it implanted itself between her lower lips. As she quivered, he pinched his bell curve and felt it grow as well.

  Unbeknownst to Roger, Julia had another gentleman in mind. Her mind trailed back to the invitation that she extended over to Carmine. She could picture him a warmer, more considerate lover than Roger, who admittedly knew his way around her body quite well. But were it only Carmine’s tongue working its way inside of her…

  Roger swiftly turned his lover around so she could face him. Julia peaked downward to witness his member bobbing up and down, cutting through the tension that had seeped into the air. He stretched out his arms and felt them quickly crack. In less than half the blink of an eye, Julia found herself airborne, her back up against the glass. Her legs coiled tightly around Roger, who was holding her above the ground by her sharpened hips.

  She hadn’t felt this exhilarated since her first motorcycle ride with her college boyfriend some years before. Julia clasped her hands around the back of Roger’s neck. She yelped with delight as her tunnel popped up and down over the stiff pole so long that it seemed to provide even more support to prevent her from falling down. Where had Roger learned to do that? she thought. Who is his trainer? And more importantly, how can I get his number? These were the most coherent thoughts she could gather together as her body grew numb with pleasure.

  Still, despite Roger’s control over her body, it was Carmine who appeared to possess control over Julia’s mind. After the orgasmic novelty of Roger’s newfound technique wore off, Julia screamed inside for a moment of authentic intimacy. If he slowed down his thrusting and carried her calmly to the bed so he could finish the two of them off, this encounter would become Heavenly.

  If Carmine had the ability to make love this way, she was sure he would have the inner touch to grant this one request. Roger wasn’t one for inner touch, however. He wouldn’t be interested even if she requested it specifically. It was the fantasy of Carmine burrowing himself sweetly inside her that finally made her climax for Roger.

  He lowered her down to the ground slowly. When Julia was on her feet again, she wobbled towards the sheets and collapsed. Roger used Julia’s absent interval to clean himself up and drape himself in the elements of the suit once again.

  Julia was grateful for what Roger so consistently did to her. She knew full well that her girlfriends would sneer if she complained about nights like these. If you’re still walking after what a man does to you, he’s not trying hard enough, she could hear a few of them say, albeit in variations. Still, couldn’t there be more to these secret meetings than simple animal lust?

  Roger’s Blackberry bleeped and flashed itself awake. He rolled his eyes and picked it up from atop the television set. He wondered why he was checking the message at all since he knew exactly who it was from.

  “Stacy…,” he let out an exasperated chuckle.

  “Another one of your…” Julia winked.

  “Sort of. She takes things a little too seriously. I keep telling her I’ll call her, have her step inside the old office. I don’t know what she wants from me.”

  Julia turned away. She imagined who Stacy was and couldn’t help but feel her pain. There was no use in taming Roger. Luckily, Julia learned that very quickly into their first few trysts.

  “I’ll be out of town a week from today so we’ll have to take a leave of absence,” Roger coolly remarked.

  “That’s fine,” Julia mused.

  “The week after that?”

  “Can’t do the week after that.”

  Roger turned his head and looked at Julia for the first time since he was no longer inside of her.

  “And why not?”

  “I have an engagement with somebody else… you’re not jealous, are you?”

  Roger scoffed. “I was only wondering.”

  Julia waited for Jarvis in the lobby with baited breath. It wasn’t like him to be this late. And why wasn’t he answering his phone? Roger had disappeared into the blackness of the city. She felt quite alone at this moment. Finally, Jarvis pulled up in the limousine and rolled down his window.

  “I’m so sorry, Julia. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s fine,” Julia forced a smile. “Take me home, please.”

  Jarvis stepped outside and opened the back door for Julia. As she stepped in, she grabbed a whiff of her driver and noticed something unusual. He was glowing. Jarvis was always a pleasant man but he never appeared this over the moon in all the time that he worked for her. She pondered what he must have been up to as he drove on. There could only be one explanation.

  “What were you up to?” Julia inquired. “While you waited…”

  “Just drove around like I usually do,” Jarvis bluffed. “Taking in the sights and sounds of the Big Apple.”

  “See anything interesting? Do anything interesting?”

  “Interesting… this city is always interesting. And all those within it are quite interesting…”

  ***

  ANOTHER day, another round of dishing out halal platters to the trendy yuppies of New York City. Rael aimed to keep his daydreaming to a minimum for once, but he was finding it increasingly difficult as he always found himself trapped in a sea of long-legged corporate angels. The city had failed to rob Rael of his sex drive but it had been a little bit of time before he had engaged in the company of another woman.

  The day drove
on at the same interminable pace. He tried to keep his fantasies at bay but to little avail. After one spurting of white sauce too many, Rael gave into his desires and made a sudden pact with himself:

  “I’m going to ask out the next woman who comes here…”

  Stacy would position herself accordingly whenever she knew that Roger was on the horizon. She would arch her back, cross her legs, and peel her skirt back a half-inch or two. She realized that their physical relationship was entwined with their business relationship and that it was never likely to blossom anymore, but a glance or acknowledgment here or there would’ve sufficed. At least if he finally called off everything – even if potentially risked her job – she would know where she stood with the man. Stacy always knew he was coming by his commanding, rhythmic footsteps that pulsed through his forever shiny wingtips.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Masters,” Stacy said, hoping he would run with the greeting this time.