Erotic Short Story: The Beach

TheBeachCoverWebA young woman escapes to an exotic island resort in an attempt to forget her cheating ex, and finds herself enthralled by a mysterious stranger on the beach. Her imagination runs wild with visions of lustful escapades. Will her fantasies become reality?

I was in a delicious state of bliss. The sun, high in the mid-day sky, blasted my bikini-clad body full force. I was hot, sticky, and wonderfully suspended from reality. Squinting up at the sky, all I could see was an endless dome of deep azure. Closing my eyes against the glare of the sun, I sighed with contentment. My ears were filled with the sound of the gentle lapping of the ocean waves, a quiet beat of reggae music drifting from somewhere nearby, and the occasional squeals of children playing at the shore. I trailed a hand in the sand at my side, the fine hot grains slipping through my fingers like silk. I felt as if I was floating, all the stresses and strains of real life a distant memory here on this idyllic island in the Indian Ocean. Even Justin seemed a million miles away, and a gazillion years ago. Dana had been right, this holiday was doing me the world of good. Continue reading

Erotic Short Story: The Flatmate (intro)

Gasps and yelps, rhythmic wails, punctuated by the odd masculine grunt and the persistent drum beat of her headboard against my wall. She must be faking; I mean, c’mon – nobody makes that kind of noise in bed. Seriously, this is the third guy I’ve heard her with and she’s screamed like that with every one. Now, I’ve had sex before, a few times I’ll have you know, and it’s never once been so mind-blowingly good that it’s called for porn star style dramatics, but Amy hits the outstanding sex jackpot three times in a row? No way, I’m not buying it. The headboard drum gains in tempo, the squeals gain volume, thrilling, frantic.

I throw my book aside and with it all pretense of reading. Cover my ears, submerge my head under my duvet and and beg for sleep to save me from this torture. No amount of begging works. Gasp, bang, grunt, yelp. The noises cannot be unheard; the moving picture cannot be unformed in my mind. Curse my artists vivid imagination.

Her tall, lithe, naked form, long toned limbs kneeling on all fours atop her bedcovers, perfect butt offered unashamedly to her latest conquest, elegant back arched, feline. Head thrown back, glossy golden curls spilling across shoulders as he pounds her from behind. In my mind he grasps her flawless honey thighs, pulling her towards him with each thrust as his erection fills her spongy tightness. This mind movie plays in time with the soundtrack that permeates my duvet, my pillow, my ears. I see her face, ice blue eyes rolled back, stoned with sex, rosebud lips forming a perfect ‘O’ as he fills her up, small perky tits bouncing with each bang.

I don’t want to imagine her tits. I don’t want to see her sex face in my mind. I don’t want to feel a growing wetness in my pussy, a jolt of electricity inside me as I hear them fucking, as I imagine him pushing his aching cock deep inside her. I refuse to acknowledge my growing desire. Hands stay firmly over my ears, temptation to allow them to wander down below denied. I cannot pleasure myself with her face in my mind, her sex noises in my ears. And yet I do. As if with a mind of its own, possessed by some uncontrollable magnetic impulse, my hand finds its way beneath the elastic of my pyjama shorts, between my legs and plays idly with my pulsing clitoris as I allow the duvet to fall back from my head and permit their carnal noises fill my room, my head, my body.

My other hand slips up underneath my strappy pyjama top and feels the weight of my generous breasts, cupping one, squeezing, nipple already erect. The noise from next door has changed, banging replaced by a mattress squeaking; they’ve clearly adjusted position. I imagine him now, lying on his back – the man I’ve not seen but heard, who in my mind has been blessed with a body somewhere between Vin Diesel and Chris Hemsworth and a face that is at first one, and then the other, as my imagination pleases, occasionally becoming my old PE teacher (inspiration for many hours of randy teenage masturbation) – his erection standing tall, an invitation my body responds to heartily.

My agile flat mate climbs aboard, long legs astride manly torso, leaning over to kiss him only briefly, rough hands cupping small breasts, tongues licking, sucking, cock nestled agonizingly against her butt, throbbing to be allowed in. In my mind’s eye it grows bigger still, eager, desperate. It’s not his face I see as she slides the head of him into place at her sick opening, but hers. Eyes wide, tongue darting out to lick lips that hang open. Lowering herself slowly onto him, taking him in an inch at a time. My fingers slip lower as I hear her cry of delight as she takes him in fully, sitting down on him hard, grinding. My folds swollen with lust, slick, my fingers slipping in easily.

Not enough, I reach blindly into my bedside drawer, find my vibrator. Turning onto all fours, I grab a large cushion, add a pillow on top, fire up my toy so it purrs deliciously in my hand and quickly stick it up the legs of my short shorts, the head of it buzzing against my clit, instant ecstasy. I waste no time. Hold it against the wet folds of myself, climb astride my pillow pile, my makeshift lover, and sit down slowly onto the vibrator, as I see her sitting down on him over and over, replaying his cock sliding into her one glorious inch at a time. I want to cum immediately, my body ready to let go, but I force myself to focus, to wait. Her mouth widening, that scream. The toy hums inside me, deep inside; I take it in fully, my own mouth wide but silent. I push down against the springy pile of pillows, gyrate in circles with the cock inside me. In my head she gyrates in circles, filled with his cock. She cups her own breasts as I cup mine. Her cries loud and gasping. He is rising up to meet her, bucking underneath her, taking her in his hands and flipping her over, onto her back. I turn myself over and lie too on my back, bringing my pillows on top of me, my legs wrapped tightly around them, holding the vibrator firmly inside me as it works its magic. She wraps her legs around him and pulls him in deeper as he fucks her harder. He fucks me harder. He can take no more. He is pummeling into her, into me. I hear her orgasm in her scream as he explodes inside her, and at that same moment I give in and allow fireworks to cascade through me, firing in my cells. Pussy twitching, pulsating. White hot liquid bliss.

Later, when I’ve come down from the dizzy heights of my climax, I shove the vibrator back in my drawer, deciding to wash it later, or tomorrow, when she’s at work. Silence fills the flat now, but I don’t want to risk bumping into her in the hallway on the way to the bathroom. I flush with shame. Am I a voyeur? The thought that it was the best orgasm I’ve ever had solo flitters through the landscape of my mind, but I open the window and shoo it away. I like Amy, she’s nice and all, but I am not attracted to her. It’s normal to get horny listening to anyone having sex, right? I rationalize. That’s why people watch porn. Does Amy have sex so fake loudly on purpose, so I’ll hear? I banish that crazy thought too, and the brief response that maybe I liked the idea that she wanted to impress me. Crazy.

(FULL STORY COMING SOON – COMMENT IF YOU WANT MORE!)

Erotic Short Story: The Gift

thegiftcoverwebElla is beside herself with excitement. It’s her name day, and she and her husband have made it a custom to take turns in arranging gifts for each other on their special day. Not just any kind of gifts though – sexy gifts that will ignite new levels of passion in the bedroom. After twenty years of marriage and devotion to each other and having two teenage children, they started the tradition as a way of spicing things up between them. After her extravagent gift to Ryan the previous year, Ella is going wild imagining just what her husband may have arranged for her, and spends the day setting the scene with candles and sensual lingerie. When he arrives home with a sexy stranger in tow, her mind starts racing with the possibilities and her heart starts racing with desire…

Leaning forward, I turn off the hot tap and then lie back in the bath, breathing in the delicious scent of vanilla bath essence with a contended sigh as hot water and bubbles caress my skin. I reach for my glass of Prosecco and take a sip, enjoying the cool dry taste and the fizz of the bubbles as they fill my mouth and slide down my throat.
Rain patters against the window and the skylight above me, the autumn sky already darkening at just after 6pm. Inside it’s warm and cozy, soft jazz music drifts from the open door of the adjacent bedroom, the scene well and truly set for whatever may lay ahead. Closing my eyes for a second, my mind wanders to my plans for the evening ahead and my heart leaps with excitement, like a child on the eve of Christmas. Continue reading

Erotic Short Story: The Professor

theprofessorcoverwebThe professor is bored, frustrated, and disappointed by the lacklustre attitude of her students, particularly cocky but fit failing student and rugby star Craig. This super intelligent and hard nosed lady doesn’t suffer fools gladly, as both her aspiring suitors and Craig are about to find out. Will her upcoming blind date finally prove to be The One and inject some much needed excitement into her life? Or maybe she will have to create her own excitement during some private ‘tutoring’ sessions with Craig…

Poor, passable, dreadful, ok-ish, decent, dire, mediocre.
That was the repetitive pattern of my marking. I sighed heavily; annoyed at the sub-standard level of work I was subjected to reading. Mostly C’s, a few D’s and a very rare B. This particular class was getting tiring, there wasn’t a single shining student in this group, and they were meant to be third year undergraduate Physics students for God’s sake. Continue reading

Erotic Short Story: The Spell

thespellcover-webEden is so desperate to win the affection of Dan from work, who she’s been lusting after and fantasising about for months, that she’s willing to try almost anything – even a mystical spell given to her by a mysterious woman in a fancy dress store. Though skeptical, she follows the instructions and mutters the spell. Will it work? Will Dan becomes smitten with her as promised, and make all her fantasies a reality?

I’d like to say that I felt the magic that was brewing that night, that some part of me sensed the inexplicable mystical events that were to follow, the events that would lead me right into the delicious manifestation of my most sensual fantasies. I’d like to say that, but I’d be lying. On the night it all began I felt nothing more out of the ordinary than a desperate sense of hope that Terry’s suggestion had sparked in me. Continue reading

Erotic Short Story: The Game

thegamecoverwebAfter ten years of marriage, she’s found a way to reignite her passion and spice up her sex life – by playing The Game. Every Friday night she leaves her identity as mother and wife at home with the babysitter and prowls the night city, bringing her fantasies to life. From a lone guy in a car at a drive in movie, to a motorcyslist in leathers, she follows the pangs of lust and chooses her prey, then seduces them, before returning home to her husband. With her newly piqued instatiable sex drive, he certainly has no complaints. On this particular night, she enters a hotel bar, waiting to see who her lover for the night might be. When a pilot arrives, she knows she’s in for a wild night.

I step out into the cool evening and take a deep breath of crisp autumn air, wrapping my faux fur coat tighter around me. Closing the front door behind me, and with it my children, safely curled up on the sofa watching a film with a big bowl of popcorn and their favourite babysitter, a smile spreads across my face.
I feel myself transitioning from mummy to wild woman, the domesticity of my week blowing away in the gentle breeze. I don’t look back as I walk down the four concrete steps and along the path, my heels click-clacking in time with the swaying of my hips. A black cat slinks across the path, disappearing into the shadows, ready for a night of roaming, prowling, running free. Feeling a sense of kinship with the feline creature so driven by her senses and desires, my smile widens.
Closing the iron gate behind me, I look around for a moment and take in the night, feeling myself coming alive with the magic in the air. A violet twilight renders everything silhouettes, from the row of tall townhouses in our street, to the pavement-planted trees, proudly standing sentinel every few metres along the wide road. It’s silent in these suburbs, and we pay a princely sum for the privilege of being buffered from the bustling noises of the city at night, but right now it’s what I crave. I can hear her calling to me – the city – I can hear the purr and roar of the traffic, the shouts and laughter. I can feel the rush, the anonymity her vibrant cloak offers. It draws me towards her with a longing I can only set free once a week, when I play my game. Continue reading

Erotic Short Story: The Crush

thecrushcoverwebBritish girl Sophie has moved the USA for a gap year adventure, and finds herself working as mother’s help for a young couple. The problem is, she’s developed a massive crush on the husband Tom, and can’t stop fantasising about him. In fact, she’s obsessed, her crush alighting an inquenchable lust inside her. Knowing she would never do anything to break up a marriage, Sophie turns her attention to local boy Danny, who’s shown some interest in her. But when she finds out that maybe everything isn’t as it seems in her employers’ marriage, she may be in with a chance with Tom after all. Horny Sophie finally makes her fantasies come true one night during a wild thunderstorm – but who does she lose her innocence to? Tom or Danny?

I’d fallen into the job by accident, and I’d fallen in love with the wrong man not long after. Sighing, I stirred my tea mindlessly and watched him through the window as he raked leaves in the back yard. Earlier, I’d offered to help, but he’d insisted I relax, since it was Saturday and my day off. He was nice like that.
It’s not like Tom was movie star good looking or anything. In fact, if you looked at his individual features, you probably wouldn’t rate him as much above average. Medium height and build, brown eyes, eyebrows a little too bushy, a slightly crooked nose that I guess had been broken when he was younger, a small chip in his front tooth, and sandy hair that wasn’t quite straight and had a tendency to stick up at the back. But adding all those elements together, for me, produced an intoxicating overall result. A face that I daydreamed about way too much. For the first time in my life, I had a serious crush. Continue reading

Erotic Short Story: The Library

thelibrarycoverwebThere’s an epidemic of horny young students from Oxford getting it on in the musty confines of one of the city’s vast libraries, and it’s the bored and frustrated librarians job to stop them. One day, however, when the librarian comes across a fornicating couple in a dark corner, she chooses to secretly watch them instead, and completely aroused by the experience, she sets about finding a man to make her own erotic fantasies come true in the classic literature section.

I knew from the moment I started work this morning that there would be another copulating incident in the library; these bloody students couldn’t keep their hands off each other. I suppose they didn’t have anything else to do, God forbid they actually study or something. One would have thought that getting a degree at Oxford was difficult enough, without the additional challenges posed by a pastime of shagging in public places. What has amazed me since I started working here is how many of them are at it – I mean, the occasional opportunistic couple once in a blue moon, I could understand, but in reality it was a pretty frequent occurrence, and it was getting to be a real nuisance for me, not least because I wasn’t getting much action of my own. Continue reading