Your Darkest Desires (Four Complete Short Erotic Stories Of Different Flavors)

by Remy, Lola

  The mystery man was the first to take the plunge over the edge. His humping became erratic as he moaned in my ear. Then he thrust one last time, and seconds later, I felt cum splash onto my back. The sticky material was red hot on my skin.

  My tongue became a jackhammer as I continued to eat Julia out. Her legs moved from my shoulders to wrap around my head as she approached her own point of no return. I didn't have to wait long before her high pitched squeaks became louder and louder, reverberating throughout the room. Despite the numerous other people having sex around us, Julia's moans drowned out everything else.

  Her pussy flooded with succulent juices I eagerly licked up. I loved the taste of her; nothing else even compared to it. Feeling her pussy contract against my tongue, tasting her, and feeling another man's cum on my bare skin combined to bring me over the edge.

  Despite having already come, the guy continued to stroke my cock. His firm grip told me he'd had plenty of practice jerking off, and I certainly was grateful for it. My dick pulsed in his grip as my balls contracted. The fire that had been burning through my body exploded, sending endless waves of pleasuring coursing through me.

  Cum erupted from the end of my cock, splattering against the soft material beneath me. My manhood throbbed with each jet. It seemed like my orgasm would last forever, but all too soon, that sexual high began to fade away.

  The man milked out every last drop of cum, then let go, seeming to know how sensitive a guy could get after such an intense orgasm. After he let go, he moved off me, and I sat up to face him. When I looked over, I was greeted by a cock that was still fairly large, despite slowly softening. My eyes travelled up his chiseled abs, to wondrous pecs, and finally to a grinning face.

  "Name's Jack," he said. "Enjoying your first night so far?"

  My throat had gone dry, so I just nodded. He motioned toward the wall by where we came in. A small table stood there with a water cooler and some cups. I followed him over, and the two of us grabbed some water.

  As we each drank a few mouthfuls, we watched Julia, who lay in the same spot, still trying to catch her breath. Jack nodded appreciatively. "Quite the catch you've got there. You mind if I have a go with her when she recovers?"

  I stared at him for a moment, then nodded. I'd figured Jack was gay by the way he'd eagerly caressed every single inch of my body. But apparently he was just as interested in Julia as he was me.

  He flashed me a grin before tossing his small paper cup into the trash, then he walked back over to Julia. I stood sipping my water as he leaned down and whispered something to her. When she grinned and nodded, he moved on top of her and lined up his now hardening cock with her entrance, then pushed his entire length inside her in one move.

  Even from where I stood I heard Julia moan. Her back arched and her legs stretched out as he began to fuck her. My own cock already began to harden again as I watched this man whom I'd just met fuck my wife.

  We were definitely going to enjoy being members here.

  The Big Three O

  There wasn’t enough wine in the world to pull me out of my funk.

  Emilio had outdone himself with the party decorations. Tiny trellis lights draped the walls and hung down from the ceiling in delicate arches. The usual plain white tablecloths had been removed for the evening, putting the rustic redwood tables on display. Silverware gleamed under the warm glow of the lamps and the air was filled with a heavenly scent that made my stomach rumble.

  My assistant, Lindy, had pinned a giant cloth banner above the rapidly emptying buffet table; I’d pretended to hate the colorful, flowery script reading ‘Welcome to the Big Leagues, April!’ but it secretly made me love her even more. My friends, my colleagues, a few of my old clients, and more than a few strangers milled around me, laughing and clinking glasses together, generally looking as though they were having an excellent night – and considering I was footing the bill, that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

  I was still not interested enough to get off my bar stool and join the rest of the fun-loving folk.

  Sighing, I picked up my glass by the stem and idly watched the wine swill around. I knew I should’ve been happier, at least on the surface. I had my dream job in family law – and since I was well on the way to making partner, I really had nothing to complain about – and I lived in Chicago, my all-time favorite city. My friends didn’t begrudge me my career aspirations and what little family I had loved me. I had my own apartment and a closet full of shoes that most women would kill to own.

  So what if I hadn’t had a single meaningful relationship high school? And so what if all the men I’d met in the last seven years were either overambitious tools or coma-inducing wimps? Was I really going to let my seemingly unending singledom ruin my own birthday party?

  I stared down the now-empty glass of wine, and I couldn’t help but sigh again; clearly, that was exactly what I was going to do.

  Before I could get too maudlin about the lack of my affairs with another glass – or ten – of really good wine, a strong hand cuffed the back of my neck, and I jumped, swearing a blue streak as I whipped around to see who it was. My gaze landed on familiar features, and I cut myself off with a grin.

  “Some of those were new, I think,” my best and oldest friend remarked, her pale blue eyes twinkling with good humor. “Good to see those lawyers you work with are good for something, Junebug.”

  “My name is April, you moron, not June,” I retorted, the words falling from my lips almost out of habit. Still grinning, I threw my arms around her neck, feeling some of the tension drain out of my spine as I caught a whiff of her coconut-scented hair; she’d been using the same shampoo since we were uncontrollable ten-year-olds playing in her parents’ yard, and it had never failed to comfort me. “Dee, I’m so happy you’re here!”

  “I had no idea,” she snorted, but her hug was as unforgiving as mine was. She swayed us both from side to side before letting me go, a wide smile curving her lips. “Happy thirtieth, you loon. Is this an open bar?”

  “Do you even have to ask?” I shot her an arch look, and Dina had the grace to look slightly abashed.

  “Sorry,” she said absently, flagging down the bartender. “You work around health nuts long enough, and you forget that your evil twin can drink you under the table.”

  Dina was a physical therapist, and in my frequently-voiced opinion, she was as batty as the rest of her colleagues; I’d lost count of the number of conversations that I’d tuned out of over the years, because they’d insisted I wasn’t treating my body the right way. Of course, her just-as-common complaint was that lawyers were soulless vampires who lived to drain their victims’ bank accounts, and attorneys in family law – like me – were the worst of the lot.

  Normally, that would have me seething with rage and aching with the urge to rip someone to shreds. But Dina and I had been best friends for over two decades, and we had way too much history to throw away just because neither of us liked what the other did for a living. Besides, we knew what counted: I wasn’t really a vampire, and she wasn’t really a health nut.

  I frowned, suddenly realizing what she’d said. “Hey,” I said, feigning offense. “I’m not the evil twin, you are.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” she countered, a sultry smile fixed on her face. The bartender placed a G&T in front of her, his radiant expression growing brighter as she stroked his thumb with calculated intent.

  Rolling my eyes, I muttered, “Jesus. You’ve been here thirty seconds.”

  “Don’t be jealous.” She threw a wink at the now-blushing bartender before turning to face me. “It’s such a bad look on you.”

  Even though my glass was still empty, I couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you for reminding me.” I snatched her drink out of her hand and took a fortifying sip. When the burn from the gin faded, I handed the glass back to her and asked, “Didn’t you tell me you were bringing a date tonight?”

  “Yeah,” she said, frowning slightly. Gesturing to so
meone behind me with her drink, Dina added, “Brett came with me.”

  Puzzled, I turned and found myself standing less than a foot away from one of the most well defined chests I’d ever seen. I took my time dragging my attention to his face. My eyes lingered on the red silk tie and the open collar of his deep blue shirt, and I smirked when I noticed his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. I raised my head and felt my jaw drop open as I stared into a pair of startlingly familiar blue eyes.

  “Baby-bear Brett?” I whispered, unable to stop myself from raking my gaze across old features that had filled out in the most wonderful ways. I found the scar on his chin from when he fell off his bike when he was eight, and I tried to reconcile the sinfully gorgeous man in front of me with the scrawny little boy I’d known as a child. It did not compute.

  To his credit, Brett didn’t seem too put-off by my blatant appraisal of his appearance. If anything, he sounded a little resigned as he said, “Hi, April. Happy birthday.”

  “Yeah, you too,” I mumbled, willing my pulse to slow down as he pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. Apparently, four months of self-imposed celibacy meant that my skin would tingle at the faintest scrape of stubble; I would have appreciated an earlier memo.

  “I think the right response is ‘thank you’,” he remarked, a small smile quirking his lips.

  I had no idea what he was talking about because the smile had done some interesting things to his face. After all those years of helping him get into trouble as a kid, I realized that the man had dimples. How had I never noticed that before? As I took in his broad shoulders and the way his shirt stretched across his forearms, another detail sunk in: Brett was definitely a man now. A quick glance from head to toe confirmed that there wasn’t anything remotely boyish about him.

  On the bright side, I’d finally solved one of the mysteries of life. I’d figured out how I was going to die – trying to stay celibate while in the same room as the man version of Brett Sullivan was going to be the thing that killed me.

  I couldn’t bring myself to look away, even though a part of me realized that we’d been standing in silence for minutes. Idly, I took in the contours of his thighs through his slacks, and I decided to become reacquainted with his chest; if I squinted, I could see the outline of his nipples and it made my own nipples tight. God, I was turning into a flaming, horny mess.

  Before I could say or do anything crazy – climbing up his body and sticking my tongue down his throat seemed like an excellent idea – Dina poked me between the shoulder blades and slid a full glass of something towards me. Without missing a beat, I knocked back half the drink, wincing as the tequila burned its way down my throat.

  “Sorry,” I rasped, stepping aside so I could look at both siblings without twisting like a pretzel. “I wasn’t expecting you to be all…” I trailed off, vaguely gesturing at his perfect, sculpted body. I downed the rest of my drink, hoping the slight edge of pain would help me regain my wits; I caught myself smiling at the bright green socks peeking out from under his pants, and it dawned on me that I might have been too far gone for alcohol to help.

  Brett frowned in confusion, glancing at Dina for clarification. Her smirk was decidedly wicked as she informed me, “His social life involves running around our old neighborhood until he’s too exhausted to move. As you can see, not having a life outside work has done wonders for my baby brother’s complexion.”

  I thought his physique had fared better, but I wasn’t about to correct her – especially not with that devious glint to her eyes. My spine stiffened as I recalled the last time she had looked at me like that; we’d barely managed to stay out of jail and the sound of a police siren still made me want to duck and hide.

  Brett shook his head and turned away from us to get a drink. In the same instant, I shot her a wary look. Pitching my voice low, I asked, “Dee, what are you planning?”

  “Nothing,” she replied, her smile wide and open.

  I didn’t buy it for a second. “Dina,” I warned. “I have twenty years’ worth of dirt on you. Do you really want to go there?”

  She rolled her eyes, but her shoulders slumped in defeat. “You’re always going on about how there aren’t any decent men in this town, so I thought I’d bring one right to you. Happy birthday,” she chirped, finishing the last of her drink and sliding off the barstool.

  “Hang on,” I hissed, grabbing her elbow. “You’re pimping your brother out to me?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Junebug.” Glancing at Brett over her shoulder, she made sure his attention was focused on the bartender before continuing, “He’s had a massive crush on you since he was old enough to know better, and you know it. Let him have one night with the magnificent April Danvers, and then you can turn him loose.” I must have looked as dumbstruck as I felt because she patted my cheek, presumably to reassure me. “Don’t worry so much. Besides, he might even be good for you.” I made a small, disbelieving sound and Dina rolled her eyes again. “If he’s weird enough to want you despite how much you tortured him as a kid, then he’s definitely got the potential to be good for you in the long run.”

  “We both tortured him when we were kids,” I pointed out, slowly stewing over the rest of her grand speech. My gaze shifted to the flexing muscles in Brett’s back and I cursed under my breath. “Does he know you’re pimping him out to me?”

  Dina’s answering grin was slow and evil. “Why do you think he’s wearing a tie?”

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to marry her or throw her into the ocean, but I was immensely grateful I didn’t have to make that decision right then. Placing a light kiss on my cheek, Dina sauntered away, murmuring, “I’m coming for you, hunky lawyers.”

  I smiled at her retreating figure, and my amusement at the situation grew when Brett turned around, not looking the least bit surprised that his sister had dumped him at the bar.

  “I take it she told you why I’m here,” he said, his eyes fixed on the tumbler of scotch in his hands.

  My voice stayed even and didn’t betray the slightest hint of anticipation as I replied, “She did.”

  “Wonderful.” He swigged most of his drink in one go, and I watched in fascination as the tips of his ears turned a wonderful, bright red. Grimacing, he asked, “Should I tell her this was a ridiculous idea now, or after you’ve kicked me out of here?”

  Screw being in control. He was too adorable for words, and he deserved to be put out of his misery. More importantly, I deserved to celebrate my big day with a bang. “Well,” I drawled, unable to keep the grin off my face. “There’s a good chance we’re both going to get thrown out of here before the night ends, so maybe hold off on telling Dee how crazy she is.”

  Brett spluttered and that dark blush spread through his cheekbones, all the way down to his neck. I was willing to bet my Christmas bonus that if I got a look at his chest, it would be flushed, too.

  My mouth went dry at the image, and giving into impulse, I wrapped his tie around my fist and pulled him closer. His eyes were wide and I was immensely pleased to note that the black had almost drowned out the pale blue. “Just answer me this,” I whispered, trailing my palm along his abdomen. “Do you want to be here?”

  His fists clenched and unclenched, and with a ragged sigh, he brought his shaking hands to rest at the curve of my hip. Looking me right in the eye, Brett said, “More than anything.”

  Without another word, I led him to the coatroom, ignoring Dina’s knowing smile and the many inquisitive looks we got from the other attendees. Paul, the regular coat-check person, looked curious but not altogether surprised to see me pulling a man by his tie.

  “Ms. Danvers,” he greeted, tilting his head to one side. “Would you like me to get your things?”

  “No.” Without looking away, I went on, “I will give you two hundred dollars to keep yourself and everybody else away from here for the next thirty minutes.”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll make it forty-five, just to be safe.”

  Bret
t made a choked noise behind me, but I gave Paul a brilliant smile. “You’re a star,” I told him, all but yanking Brett into the dark room with me.

  “Pass that on to Emilio,” he shot back, pulling the door closed behind me.

  I blinked a couple of times, letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The racks were spaced evenly, and I was mildly surprised to find that most of them were stuffed beyond capacity; either they were smaller than they looked or there were more people at my party than I’d anticipated.

  The feel of silk bunched around my knuckles reminded me that I had more important things to worry about, and with a slight shake of the head, I moved us away from the door.

  The air in the room smelled musty, and as I walked Brett to the farthest wall, I felt my head swim at the myriad scents – not restricted to perfume – wafting off the coats. My nose wrinkled as I turned around, finally relinquishing my hold on Brett. He looked disappointed for an instant, but when his gaze dipped to my hands loosening the knot on his tie, his breathing became heavy.