Blushed and Flushed: 12 erotic short stories for women

by Maria Diamante

  He rubbed his suited chest against my breasts and I moaned, almost against my will, hissing into his ear to stop and to let me go. His response was to brush against me more strongly, and his free hand went immediately to my breasts.

  He pushed aside the thin fabric, exposing me fully.

  I squealed and he rubbed his hands all over my breasts, pulling at them, tugging on my nipples, moving quickly from one to the other. I was trapped in his powerful grip, my arms over my head, leaving my chest vulnerable to him, and my heaving lungs made my breasts move up and down, obviously exciting him.

  I could feel his cock spring to life and harden against me and he rubbed himself along my body. He started to kiss my neck and something in me collapsed. I wanted him. I wanted him to take me, take my body. It didn’t matter where I was. Nothing else mattered.

  I groaned again, but this time with lust, and he looked up at me for a moment, almost surprised at my reaction.

  This time, I was the one who nodded, telling him silently that I wanted him to ravish me. I wanted his hands, tongue and cock all over me. I placed my mouth on his and pushed my tongue into his warm mouth.

  Our tongues danced together and I could feel my pussy dampen. Oh no, I had put on the bottoms without underwear, completely against the rules. The soaked bottoms would just have to be a casualty.

  He let go of my arms and they fell to clasp him against me, running one hand over the back of his neck, and the other against the front of his pants, feeling how hard and heavy he was. He moaned deeply and I gave him a warning look with my eyes, reminding him to be quiet.

  He stepped back from me and put his hand down the front of my bottoms, immediately sliding his finger into my wet pussy. He stroked me from clit to ass, back and forth, causing me to rock against his thick finger.

  Oh my God, I could come right here in this change room, I thought, and spread my legs apart. He stopped and went to his knees in front of me and slowly peeled the bottoms down my thighs. When they were halfway down, he spread my pussy lips open with his fingers and placed his tongue right on my clit, causing me to grab the walls to keep my balance. I knew I would come within seconds.

  But he didn’t let me come. He stopped when I was on the verge and he pulled the bottoms all the way down and helped me step out of them.

  He turned me towards the mirrors, three of them angled in front of me, and stood behind me, watching my eyes as he held me, the bikini top pushed aside to let my breasts hang freely, bottomless, with glistening pubic hair. I told him with total abandon that I didn’t care if we were in public, or that I shouldn’t be doing this, and that my kids were waiting for me.

  He gently pushed my shoulders downward, forcing me into a bending position. He loosened his pants and brought out his cock, stroking it in his hand as his eyes stared into mine in the mirror.

  My breasts swung free, dangling as I bent over and my nipples were so hard and erect, they ached. I reached up and pulled on my own nipples, very hard, lengthening them almost double and then let them fall.

  He watched me do this a few times, then quickly thrust his cock inside me, making me rise on my tiptoes, taking me by surprise by the force and strength of his pumping. He grasped my hips so hard, I thought he would leave marks.

  I lifted one leg to rest my knee on the stool, giving me a better view of his cock thrusting in and out of me, and he suddenly lifted my leg so that I was almost bending over in half. I squealed, loudly, and heard a cough outside.

  I sensed by his tightening grip and restrained grunts that he was about to come, which he did, long and hard, shooting inside me, so that I could almost feel his semen hit the walls of my cunt.

  But he didn’t let go of my leg as he withdrew his cock, which he then immediately replaced with his fingers, stroking my G-Spot in the most delightful way.

  My eyes rolled back at the sensation and I moved my hips to meet his fingers. He curled his fingers inside me and began to speed up his thrusts. Unable to remain quiet, I began to breathe loudly through my clenched teeth. My orgasm was building…building…

  My eyes popped open and I drew in a deep breath as my earth-shattering orgasm began. I threw my head back and moaned through closed lips.

  Everything released…including a powerful stream of ejaculate.

  The stream of clear liquid splashed across the change room floor, covering literally every square inch of space. The sound of it hitting the carpet seemed to echo in the tiny room. The man jumped to one side trying to avoid being drenched.

  He helped me sit down on the stool as my legs turned to rubber. I rested my head against his chest, absolutely dizzy and disoriented, still shuddering and shaking. Finally, I calmed down as he gently stroked my hair.

  We looked at the enormous puddle of ejaculate on the change room floor. Both our mouths were open in shock, yet neither of us made a sound.

  Finally, we both started to giggle uncontrollably. I covered my mouth with my hand to stop the laughter, but my shoulders were bouncing up and down. So were his. In fact tears were running down his eyes. We each tried to quiet the other while our stomachs ached from laughter.

  He straightened up his clothing, zipping himself up and darted out of the change room. I sat perfectly still, unable to move, unable to grasp what had just happened.

  A few seconds later he returned and showed me that he had hung an “Out of order” sign on the door.

  He kissed me on the lips, not a lusty, frantic kiss, but a simple, loving one, and with one last smile, opened the door and vanished.

  I frantically put on my clothes, and managed to grab the bikini as well as the green suit. The bikini bottoms were absolutely soaked. I ripped the price tag off from the back of the top and tried to compose myself as I left the change room, wondering just how long that “Out of order” would work.

  I was literally shaking with panic as I approached the counter. But the store salesperson didn’t seem to think anything was out of order. I handed her the green suit and the price tag for the bikini and she rang the suits up with a bored expression.

  Apparently, no one noticed anything, or heard us. Or if they did, no one gave any indication. I paid and gave the girl a brilliant smile when she wished me a good day and walked out of there as fast as I could.

  I went to MacDonald’s and found the kids happily eating and as we finished and gathered up to go, James walked in, carrying a bouquet of roses and after greeting the kids, he kissed my cheek.

  I could smell myself on his lips and blushed when I looked down and saw the ejaculate stains on the bottom of his grey dress pants. He handed me the roses and told me how beautiful I was. The kids had gone quiet, wondering what was up.

  “Did you get the bikini?” asked James, taking the bag from me.

  “Yep, I did,” I told him, grinning broadly, as he stuck his head in the bag to check.

  “Wonderful,” he said, smiling devilishly, and led us all out of the restaurant.

  As we walked past the store where I had bought the bikini, James stopped me for a moment and told me to look at the cash register. I gasped. There were four or five ladies, about my age, standing in line.

  Each had the same bikini in their hands. One of them looked up at me, and pointed, whispering something to the other ladies with an enormous smile on her face. The kids couldn’t figure out why we skipped the usual ritual of ice cream.

  Double life, single need

  Elizabeth was a woman who took what she wanted and didn’t worry about anyone else’s feelings or opinions. A high-powered editor for a major publishing company, she was strong, confident and well respected, if not a little feared.

  Her job was glamorous, as were the perks; a company car and driver, a corner office with her own secretary, a personal assistant, a wardrobe budget and a major bonus whenever one of her authors made the Times Bestseller list. Rumor had it, she could make or break your career with a single phone call or e-mail.

  She lived in a beautiful three-bedroom condo with a
stunning view of Central Park and the New York skyline. She dined with politicians and celebrities, vacationed at exotic islands and if that wasn’t enough, she was also a gourmet cook.

  But while she was known as this incredibly successful career woman that was respected and admired, Elizabeth led a double life. At night she was a different person who acted in ways that would absolutely shock her friends of high society.

  Elizabeth called herself “Beth” at night, and make no mistake about it, she was after sex. She didn’t just enjoy sex, she craved, desired and needed sex to survive her stressful, high-powered days. The thrill of the chase, and anticipation of a new lover, that was her stress reliever.

  Yoga, meditation, Pilates…she scoffed at those, thinking nothing relieved stress like an earth shattering orgasm.

  So she lived a secret life at night. Beth would often pick up a man, or men, or a man and a woman, or, if there were no men around who interested her, a woman and go to a hotel room, or their place, or even in the back of a car, and have primal, passionate, hot, sweaty sex.

  Beth wore men down and her boyfriends often waved a white flag, surrendering and admitting that they couldn’t keep up with her.

  When she was younger, men lined up around the block to be with her, and she often went from one relationship to another, with nary a break in between. Now at 41, it was she who had to instigate things, which she thrived on.

  Beth made sure she went to respectable parts of town where it was unlikely she would see anyone she knew, but it didn’t really matter to her if she did, as she was the epitome of discretion. No one would dare question her.

  When she felt an urge to explore sexually, she would go home after work and change into her lucky outfit; a purple satin zebra-print push up bra and thong, a black garter belt and black stockings, plain black three-inch pumps, and a sleek, little-black-dress that showed off both her cleavage and her legs.

  Beth gave the illusion of looking slim and chic when clothed, as she dressed expensively and very carefully. But naked, she was voluptuous. Her breasts and hips gave her a lush, sensuous look, especially when she stood before a man in scanty lingerie.

  Beth walked into a bar known for attracting business men, one week before Christmas. She was dressed in her lucky outfit accented with a pair of ruby earrings, her way of celebrating the holiday season.

  She walked into the bar and immediately, almost all the men turned to watch her take a seat on the end stool, crossing her legs to show them off. She felt their hungry gaze on her body and it filled her with a feeling of power and control.

  She was especially voracious tonight. She considered calling any one of her tried-and-true standbys who would come running, but she wanted someone new. She wanted a young, strong, sexy man who knew how to satisfy an older, lusty woman. Someone who wouldn’t get too involved or clingy, or too dependent.

  Whoever it was, she wanted them to leave in the morning and never see them again. She had someone in mind, someone she had been flirting with for the last month.

  Beth scanned the bar, sipping her cranberry and vodka and noticed how the men were looking appraisingly at her. But none of them were right, she thought angrily, watching the collection of red, alcohol-bloated faces with necks bulging out of collars far too small.

  She realized she wanted a man who didn’t deal with computers and paper all day. So she questioned why she had picked this particular bar, although she knew it was because it was in a safe part of town where she felt at ease.

  If she had more nerve, she would go across town to the pubs and neighborhood bars where strong, muscular construction workers and welders and laborers went for a drink to relax their weary bodies, and gear up for the night at home with the wife and kids, a blaring television and an exhausted sleep.

  While she was thinking about getting up and leaving after she finished her drink, the door opened and a gust of cool air made her look up.

  There was the man she had been waiting for. He was young, maybe late twenties or early thirties, tall, with a chiseled face and wide shoulders. His jeans were molded to his ass, and she watched his strong thighs move fluidly towards her. He stopped at the bar, and ordered an imported beer. He was no construction worker, as she noticed his smooth hands, but he was no Wall Street type either. He looked far to cool for that.

  The bar suddenly became bearable as she waited for him to notice her. He faced the bar, wrapping his big hands around his beer and leaned forward to watch the game on the overhead TV.

  Beth stood up, smoothed her dress over her hips and walked towards him. She stopped and squeezed past beside him and told the bartender that she would have a beer too. The young man turned his beautiful face to look at her and she saw the unmistakable look of lust in his eyes as he glanced down at her chest, then at her face. Bingo.

  She could usually tell when a man was into older women, and she was not wrong in this case. They had actually exchanged glances and smiles a few times, but he had not yet made a move, so she knew it was up to her to break the ice.

  She brushed her hip casually against his thigh and turned to walk towards the ladies room. She knew he would be watching her ass and legs as she jauntily swung her way to the bathroom. She smiled in anticipation. The chase was on and the anticipation filled her with energy and desire.

  When she returned, he handed her the beer and walked back to the stool that she had originally occupied, and took her arm to help her perch back on it. He leaned in close, letting her smell his spicy cologne, and breathed against her ear as he told her his name was Michael. He was a marketing consultant for a well-known advertising firm.

  As they chatted, he leaned in to her and placed a hand on her thigh for leverage. His fingers were warm and knowing.

  When the stool next to hers became empty, he sat down. Beth leaned over to whisper to him, placing one hand dangerously close to his crotch, letting her finger almost, but not quite, brush against his cock. His face reddened slightly.

  Seeing the effect of her contact, she did it often, alternating her hands, and leaning in so her breasts brushed against his arm. As the noise in the bar became louder, she placed her lips close to his and pressed her full breasts against his chest, marveling at how good his pecs felt.

  She looked deeply into his blue eyes, letting hers show him exactly what she wanted, and moved her hand to his bicep, resting the red manicured nails on his muscle, squeezing a bit.

  Her body position was very suggestive, open and exposed to him, her breasts visible, and the top of her stockings just barely showing below the dress as the stool made her dress ride up a bit.

  He looked down and touched the tiny bit of exposed skin above her stocking top, and ran his finger along the garter snap. Beth felt her pussy become damp. Though surrounded by people, she wanted to spread her legs so that he could smell her arousal. She didn’t care about the prying eyes of others as he continued to touch her skin.

  He moved his finger dangerously close to her panties and as he boldly stroked higher on her thigh. He brought his face close to hers.

  “I can feel the heat from your pussy against my hand,” he said.

  This comment both shocked and thrilled Beth, who drew in a quick breath upon hearing this.

  Her body reacted sharply and she clutched his arm for support. His fingers were inches from her damp panties, and she slightly parted her legs to allow him to just touch her.

  His finger touched the fabric, lingered for a moment then he leaned back and grinned at her. Beth’s eyes were half-closed and she was breathing heavily as she found herself frustrated at the withdrawal of his fingers.

  He stood, not saying a word and helped her to rise off the stool. He gently raised the back of her dress, so when she faced the room, he pressed his erection into her ass, his fingers stroking the curve of her ass beneath her scanty underwear, and his coat and body not letting anyone else view her.

  She pressed herself back into him and fought the urge to bend over and grind her ass onto
his cock. They stood like that for a moment, relishing the sensation until he bumped her playfully with his cock and told her cheerfully to get moving. He firmly took her arm and led her outside.

  They discussed where to go and Beth suggested a nearby hotel. As they walked, she took his arm and pulled it close to her breast, which he could feel through her coat.

  She grew so aroused that the cool air in the street hit her damp panties and made her shiver. They were soaked, as was her pussy, and she had never wanted to spread her thighs so much.

  Registering at the hotel, Beth haughtily avoided the glance of the desk clerk as they didn’t have any luggage, and it was clear they only intended to stay for a single night.

  Instead of leading her to the elevator, he led her to the gift shop, where he bought her a few toiletries and a silk kimono. Beth was touched by his thoughtfulness. He then led her upstairs and into the room.