The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 5

by Maxim Jakubowski

  To a house off Sheikh Zayed Road. A villa like the one I’d spent so many days and nights in, simultaneously shivering and sweating with desire and pleasure, my sighs a fusion of English and Arabic as I reached toward my black-eyed love. They seemed surprised when I pushed their hands away, slapped off their offending fingers. I’d slept with their friend – why wouldn’t I sleep with them? They didn’t know I was an Odalisque. Their dark scowls burned me as they put me in a taxi, threw some dirham at the driver, who smirked knowingly, making me feel like the Filipina hooker from Spinney’s. He’d driven whores home from a job before. The sun was already high over the tree-barren city, judging me although I’d done nothing to be judged for.

  I wanted to tell him about his so-called friends, but I knew he wouldn’t be interested. He was gone from me now. I even thought of taking revenge, maybe saying things had happened that hadn’t really happened just to show them I wouldn’t be disrespected like that. But I’d heard how women were treated, even when they were telling the truth. Adulterous behavior they call it.

  Here no one’s interested in the truth. Not a woman’s truth, a Western woman. A former Odalisque. It’s all about power and money, where you’re from, what you have dangling between your legs. Guess it’s not that different from America, when you think about it.

  The Puss Hater

  Inna Spice

  I once did a very bad thing in the name of Love. Love has always been a bitch to me and I thought I could fool it.

  I always took the romantic stuff very seriously, getting to know the guys before allowing a first kiss, becoming friends before being lovers. I built up rose-coloured and scented scenes in my head of how Mr Right and I would be so happy just sharing a dinner in a fancy restaurant and playing footsie under the long starched tablecloth. But every time a prospective Mr Right appeared in sight, things went terribly wrong. So I kind of gave up my hazy dreaming and went for a fun-of-the-moment thing.

  I met Lenny at a Valentine’s bash in a club. I was twenty-eight at the time and single, as I have been for most of my life. My friend Jenni brought her boyfriend, and he in turn brought a couple of friends. I knew everyone else; we were all at the same drama school. I was drinking as if it were my last chance and flying across the dance floor imagining I had wings. I didn’t pay any particular attention to the new guys since I’d given up on meeting a potential husband or even getting laid. We hadn’t been properly introduced as I got to the club late, fought my way in through the pushing crowd by the door, got a drink and tried to spot a familiar face on the dance floor. Jenni was already twirling around with half-a-dozen guys, and so I joined them. We danced like crazy, blood pumping at our temples and ecstasy filling our hearts.

  After an hour or two of hot dancing I had to pee – the fact, which I announced shamelessly in the hope that someone would direct me to the bathroom. Suddenly, I heard a whoosh and everything went blurry below me, as my very gentle dance partner scooped me up in his arms and carried me, still swaying to the music, to the john. By the entrance he put me down and beaming from ear to ear said, “I am Leonard. Lenny to my friends.”

  “Suzie. Thanks for the ride,” I grinned. “Got to go . . .”

  When I returned to the floor, Leonard had got a table, drinks and ice cream sundaes. We savoured the treats and the buzz, chatting away till two o’clock in the morning. He pulled up my socks for me and retied my boots before we left the club. He hugged me tight as we walked to the subway station. In the dim lights of the train he held me, staring deep into my eyes as if trying to hook up my soul. He got me safe to my door, gently kissed me good night and left his phone number in the palm of my hand. I think I was too drunk to appreciate all his sweetness.

  However, the next day I called the number. We went for a coffee and walked along the river. He was exciting in his simplicity; he told me stories of his childhood, of the plays he’d written, and I felt as if I had known him all my life.

  His mother, he said, was obsessed with animals. She had a collection of nearly two dozen pets: eight dogs of different breeds, four cats, five finches, a parrot, a guinea pig, a couple of rabbits, a ferret and a porcupine – all in her one-bedroom apartment.

  I always liked animals, but in reasonable numbers. When I was little, I used to bring stray cats home, saving them from freezing to death in the winter, but we had never kept more than two cats at a time.

  Lenny had a cat too. Only one, so that was a relief. I met it the first time we came to his place to have sex. We had been dating for several weeks then and his affectionate talk and arousing kisses made me want to know him better.

  The temperature dropped drastically, making it the coldest day of the winter. It had snowed the night before, and the trees looked like huge white monsters out of some marvelous magical fairytale. Our walk didn’t last long – we had to sneak into a coffee shop and fuel up with liquored hot chocolate to defrost our toes and fingers. I told Lenny that I had a craving to curl up with a hot water bottle. He said he had something much better to offer at his place.

  Red-cheeked from the frost and anticipation, we stumbled through the knee-deep snow towards his small cosy residence.

  As soon as we opened the door, an all-black, sleek, very serious-looking creature with enormous yellow eyes came out to greet us “Meow.”

  “Meet Lenny Junior!” Lenny laughed.

  “Lenny Jr., this is she, my cat-woman I told you so much about.”

  I said hello and stretched my hand out for him to sniff. He pushed his little brown nose into my palm and affectionately rubbed it all over my hand, his tail standing tall and still. He was kind of handsome and so far he liked me.

  “Now it is my turn, Junior,” Lenny wrapped his arms around me and rubbed his cheek into mine. His chocolate breath was hot. We stood there licking each other’s lips, sucking tongues, nibbling ears and stroking every inch of the exposed skin. His breath mixed with the puffy fur collar of my coat tickled like crazy, sending electric waves from my neck to my butt. I giggled. He pulled my coat off, dropping it on the cat.

  “Meeeoooow!”

  “We better hide,” I whispered. Lenny led me into his dark bedroom leaving the door open a crack. He lit a few candles the room filled with a warm wonderful glow and the seductive aroma of spices. He complemented the sensation by caressing my neck, moving my long hair out of my face and barely brushing my eye lids with his sensual lips. He took a long while kissing my face all over, making me hot and wet; I yearned to feel his hands squeezing my breasts.

  He was in no hurry, and I impatiently tugged on his shirt, pulling it up and sliding my hands to his nipples as a hint. His chest was smooth and muscular – I wanted to press it to mine, to melt into him, to devour him with my pussy.

  I dug my fingers into his hair, long, soft and wavy. I reveled in his fingers and lips upon my skin. He slowly slid my dress off my shoulders – I wore a stretchy low-cut dress – and pulled it down to my waist. His fingers caressed my breasts, brushing my tickly hard nipples. He sucked on each one, smacking his lips in delight. He breathed on my belly and stuck his tongue into my navel, while sliding my dress down my dancing hips. I had worn stay-up stockings and no underwear. His warm heavenly palms caressed my buttocks, cupping them, squeezing. I moaned as my pubic area became madly ticklish.

  He fingered my clit, pinching it gently, and then slid three fingers deep inside moving them around, causing me to whimper and shiver. He kissed my mouth and pushed his fingers in harder. I cried out and bit into his shoulder, pulling him close, wanting to be crushed by his weight. He slowly pulled his fingers out and hugged me. I felt a light tickle on my cheek; I thought it was Lenny’s hair and pushed my face into it as a cold, wet, leathery curious snout snuggled into me.

  “Oh goodness! What’s he doing here?”

  Lenny laughed “He is my buddy, he wants to know why I like you so much . . . Here Junior . . .”

  He shoved his fingers that had just explored my insides to the cat’s nose.

>   “What are you doing, Len?”

  “It’s all right, Suzie. He likes you.”

  Sure as hell he did. He rubbed and nuzzled Lenny’s fingers and then he started to lick them, slurping as if they were dipped into some catnip.

  “You’re crazy, both of you!”

  “Suzie, it’s just a joke. He misses me, I am never home, and he’s such a cuddly thing. He needs attention. Come here, babe.”

  He pulled me closer again and kissed my lips. I melted. I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me. The cat jumped off and disappeared under the bed – not that I liked his presence in the room, but I wanted to please Lenny.

  After that, we fucked quite regularly, sometimes at his place, more often sleeping over at mine. We were great together. His every touch was a turn-on, every position he chose I loved. Even when I was tired or moody, all he needed to do was give me a lick and I became slippery, itchy and throbbing for him.

  The only thing I couldn’t stand was . . . yes, Lenny Junior. Why, he even had his name! He was all over us whenever we came home or in orgasm. He meowed and purred, he walked on top of us and stuffed his muzzle into our faces; but Lenny adored him. He cuddled and squeezed him, patted, carried him around in his arm while preparing our food. The little black devil possessed the very heart I was trying to win.

  But each of the few times that we slept over at his apartment, the cat came and sat on Lenny’s chest, while we were still in bed, and Lenny smiled wholeheartedly, and rubbed behind his ears.

  “Good morning, Lenny-buddy,” he would say in a voice full of tenderness I hadn’t heard before. I honestly wished he talked like that to me. If I could only make him love me as much.

  When I spoke to Jenni, she complained of her obsession with her boyfriend. She said he flirted too much with his customers. He ran a coffee shop and had to be polite and friendly, I told her. But she sat and watched him for hours, her frustrations boiling up until she could no longer bear it, and then she screamed and made a fool of herself in the middle of his shop. Well, I told her, at least she was reasonably jealous of the female coffee-lovers – I, however, was jealous of a PET. A little furry thing, that most wouldn’t even give a second thought to, drove me absolutely insane. I hated Lenny Junior’s guts. I loathed his smart, observing yellow eyes. I despised his murmuring voice. I was repulsed by his black hair that I occasionally found on my white sweaters. But I tried to tolerate him for Lenny’s sake.

  In the spring, Lenny came to my house, beaming as bright as the sun outside, with a rose-bouquet he could barely hold in both arms. I felt ecstatic as well. He looked so fresh, happy and sexy in his cream-coloured suit. He said he wanted us to move in together.

  I embraced him and kissed his face, grateful that he wanted to be with me. But the cat issue bothered me and I didn’t know how to tell him. I said I wasn’t sure we were ready but I was willing to try and stay at his place for a week.

  The first couple of days went relatively well; I had to lock Junior in a closet only once. It was a weekday and Lenny had to be at work early. My class didn’t start till eleven that day and I slept in. After I got out of the shower, the freaking cat sat on a dresser and watched me dress. I tried to brush my discomfort off and laughed, telling him I might just strip for his pleasure. He tilted his head as if in contemplation and then he nodded. Wickedly, I jumped at him, grabbed the scruff of his neck in one hand, his hind legs in the other and threw him into my closet, quickly shutting the doors. I let him out before I left for school. No one had to know about my little rage.

  That evening we went out for pizza. Lenny was sweet as usual and smirked calling me his “real girlfriend”. We came home feeling happy and excited like newlyweds.

  We hopped and danced around the living room wiggling our hips and swinging our arms like little wild children; we tickled and hugged, making our way to the bedroom. Lenny gently thrust me on the bed, grabbed my sleeves and pulled them up, quickly slipping the sweater over my head. I wore no bra and my little tits jumped as my arm swayed around him. He suckled on my hard nipple while pinching the other one with his fingers. I threw my head backwards and caressed his muscled back and his gorgeous buttocks. I slid down, unzipped and pulled his pants to his knees. Surprise – he wore nothing underneath and his massive cock was wiggling right in my face.

  “You are adopting my undergarmentless habits,” I whispered and slowly licked his musky hot cock. I sucked it into my mouth and squeezed my cheeks, stroking it hard with my tongue. Never a great cock-sucker, I stopped before I was ready to gag and pulled myself up, kissing his half-open mouth.

  He turned me around and pushed me down on my fours, my ass sticking up high, pussy swollen in readiness to take him. He fucked me hard, forcing his thick dick deeper with every push; it seemed he was determined to pierce me through all the way to my throat. He pumped in and out, squeezing my ass with one hand, slimy juices flowing down my thighs, my pussy squirming and queefing like a hungry bitch. Moaning, I turned my head around to look at Lenny’s face and noticed . . . in the doorway sat a black silhouette, quiet and serious, its studying eyes sparkling gold. I swear I saw him grin.

  “Your cat, Lenny!” I hissed as he pulled out and squirted his hot come over my back. I fell asleep feeling I had to get rid of him to have my boyfriend all to myself.

  The next morning I let the cat outside, hoping he would get lost. But he came back in an hour and scratched at the door. Then I took him for a ride in a taxi to the other end of the city, and let him out by some small veterinary clinic.

  I told Lenny he sneaked out while I was checking the mail. He, being very distraught, placed an ad in a newspaper, announcing quite a handsome reward for the finder.

  They say pets can smell their home from hundreds of kilometers away. How was I supposed to know that this black little beast had extraordinary abilities? He showed up on our doorstep in five days.

  As if in a snowball fight, I fought the furry balls that someone pitched at me. They came at me in all directions at incredible speed, bruising my arms and legs, raising blue swollen bumps on my head. I felt horribly sweaty and hot as I threw off my blanket. Suddenly something gently tickled my bum.

  “Oh, Lenny, just a little more sleep . . . please . . .”

  I turned around to smack him.

  “Jesus! Fuckhead! Get lost!” I yelled at the sniffing cat. He ran away as fast as a cannon ball. And Lenny ran in from the bathroom, confused and worried about my nightmares.

  “Lenny, I can’t do this!” I wailed.

  He held me tight, stroked my back, told me he loved me and that I had to get more sleep. He said he was going to shut the bedroom door before he left for work.

  There was a bridge over our river. Tall pines on each end made it a quiet, secluded place. A few metres down, the river turned to a waterfall – high, rocky and loud – where I would come to watch and listen to every time I felt disturbed or distressed. I walked there that day in search of my peace again. Only this time, I carried a bag – one of those old fashioned net bags like the one my mom used to carry potatoes in, or beach towels. No one had used it for years, and it sat losing its colour hidden in my closet.

  My mom would not have been proud of me had she known my plan: the bag contained the cat. The beast moved about and squirmed, making pathetic little squeaks, but I wrapped it in a newspaper and a garbage bag too.

  I looked over the railing and heard the river calling me in. How liberating would it be to sail down and crush all the annoying troubles, I thought. To rid myself of the mess in my head. Forever. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and threw the bag in. I swear I did it in the name of Love.

  For weeks, Lenny was devastated as if he’d lost a child. I tried to comfort him with my presence, thinking up various activities for us to do. Reluctantly, he came along but the sadness in his eyes was too hard for me to bear. Finally, I had suggested we get a finch. But he wanted the whiskers.

  It is August 19 and my birthday. I never work on my birt
hday, I never go to school or see people I don’t like. I celebrate with my best friends and a ton of presents. I go out, I go wild, I get laid. As usual, this is the plan for tonight, except I want to lay Lenny. I cuddle up in the sheets, listening to noises from the kitchen Lenny must be making my birthday breakfast. I hear his shuffling steps and spoons chiming on the tray. His lips stretch in his usual sunny smile. His chest hair is secretly peeking at me from under his robe.

  “Good morning, my birthday girl . . .” His voice sounds so loving. “I got you a present!”

  He sets the tray on the bed beside me and shuffles away. I sip champagne and watch him come back with a medium-sized pink box tied with lots of ribbon. He hands it to me but, somehow, I’m not eager to open it.

  “C’mon, I think you’ll love it.”

  He picks up his glass ready for a toast. I undo the ribbons and lift up the lid, out pops a white, fuzzy, blue-eyed kitten wearing a red collar with silver bells and a beautiful solitaire diamond ring.

  “Suzie, will you marry me?”

  I heard Karma never forgets.

  Picture Perfect

  Donna George Storey

  I didn’t mean to shave it all off. At first I was trying for a whimsical heart shape, but I couldn’t seem to get the curves even. Then I sculpted a fur patch like those models in men’s magazines, but it looked too much like Hitler’s mustache. In the end I went all the way – the Greek statue look. It’s harder than you think to get yourself all smooth down there. I stood with one leg propped up on the side of the tub, studying my cunt like exam notes. I’d never looked at myself so carefully down there before. What surprised me was the color – the deep, almost shocking pink of the inner lips. The skin looked so sensitive and dewy, I was scared to get close with that nasty razor, so I left a little fringe. There was no room for mistakes.