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Friday, July 29, 2011

Paradise

Content Advisory: Explict m/f sex and anal play.

The sun beats down on my head and shoulders, the white sand, soft between my toes. Around me, palm trees shift and rustle as a light breeze washes through them, cooling my tanned, hot skin. The sound of waves hitting the shore fills my ears and I stretch out on the sand, utterly content in my surroundings.
Was there anything better than this? The total freedom of travelling. Thailand is the third country on my world trip and there are several more planned after. As long as my bank balance holds out, I’m in heaven.
Feeling slim and sexy after eating nothing but rice and noodles for the past two months, I prop myself up on my elbows, sucking in my already flat stomach. I pull back my shoulders, knowing the movement makes my bikini top look as though it’s about to lose its hold on my generous breasts.
Behind me, a bamboo covered beach bar shelters a group of three men, all bare-chested and nursing ice-cold beers, condensation dripping down the sides of the glass. For the moment, I imagine one of the glasses held against the skin of my décolletage, the icy drips running in rivulets down my cleavage, trickling over my nipples.
The thought makes my nipples harden, straining against the super skimpy material. I feel their eyes on me. The sexy one with the blue eyes and the cut body, leans in to say something to his friend and I know they’re talking about me. Their scrutiny makes me feel even sexier and I press my thighs together as a rush of moisture pools at my centre.
The hot guy gets to his feet and I turn my head away, trying to appear disinterested as he approaches. His broad shoulders block out the sun, casting a shade over me.
“My friends and I were wondering if we could buy you a drink,” he says, his accent one I recognize, definitely British, like mine.
I glance up at him, “You can buy me a drink, but I’m not interested in your friends.”
He grins, exposing straight white teeth and a dimple I have a sudden urge to put my tongue into. He’s tanned—as all travelers seem to be—and his brown hair is buzzed short. Bright blue eyes, that put the exotic sea to shame, shine back at me.
“Stay right where you are,” he tells me, and then races back to the bar and buys two fresh bottles of icy beer.
He comes back and I take the one he offers. “Fancy a stroll?” he asks.
“Sure, why not.”
I get to my feet and wrap my sheer sarong over my hips. The material does little to cover me up, but I like the relaxed, beach look. We head down the beach, toward the clear blue ocean, and then walk along the shoreline. Our toes crush the damp sand, leaving footprints behind us as we walk. Occasionally, a wave washes too far up the shore and I squeal and dance away as it races over my feet, soaking the bottom of my sarong so the material slaps and clings to my calves.
He laughs at my antics but his eyes are taking in my body the whole time, his gaze flicking down to where my tits bounce as I play-act in the swell. He takes a swig of his beer to distract himself and I’m pretty sure if I dare to glance down, I’ll see the start of a decent sized semi in his cargo shorts.
He tells me where he’s been—Vietnam, Cambodia—and where he’s heading—Bali.
I smile, “Me too.”
Most travelers take the same route and it’s not uncommon for me to bump into someone in Thailand who I’ve previously travelled with in Vietnam. I like that this sexy, tanned man will be going my way and whatever happens now, there’s a good chance our paths will cross again.
I take a gulp from my own bottle, the beer icy against the heat of the sun. I close my eyes and appreciate where I am; in Paradise.
“What are you doing?” he laughs.
“Just taking in the moment,” I tell him. “Don’t you think we should take the time to appreciate where we are right now? Seriously, life doesn’t get any better than this.”
He’s standing in front of me now; his broad chest is well-defined, the line running down the center of his abs leading a tantalizing trail down into his shorts. The heat radiates from his skin and I can smell coconut from whatever sun lotion he’s been using.
“It doesn’t get any better?” he says. “Are you sure about that?”
Thankful for a deserted beach, I step forward, closing the gap. I know my nipples are hard with anticipation, poking through the thin material of my bikini top. I lean in close and say, my voice low, “All you’d have to do right now is tug the string at the back and I’d practically be naked. Is that coming any closer to your idea of paradise?”
He gulps, his breathing suddenly shallow. But he doesn’t falter from my brazen suggestion. His hand slips around my back and he pulls the bow from the back of my bikini so the whole thing falls down, exposing my breasts to the glorious Thai sunshine.
“Holy shit,” he says, stepping closer. He cups my left breast in his palm, his thumb stroking the hardened nub of my nipple, making me gasp. I’m so horny right now, I have to stop myself jumping on him, wrapping my thighs around his waist and impaling myself on what I hope will be a cock as gorgeous as its owner.
But I hold myself back, enjoying the seduction.
His spare hand slides down my spine, resting at the swell of my ass, and he pulls me against him. I tilt my face and he catches my lips against his, drawing me into a deep kiss. His lips are soft, his tongue warm and exploratory. It darts into my mouth, tasting me in teasing strokes. My pussy gives a delightful throb and I press my mound against him, searching for the hard length I know will be there. My mons makes contact with his thick ridge, sending sparks deep into my core, my thighs going weak.
I reach down and pull my sarong away, letting it drift to the sand in a whisper of fabric. My bikini bottoms are in the same style as the top, with only string bows holding the sides together. I step back from him and hold his eye, then slowly—oh, so slowly—pull the bows apart. The tiny triangle of material falls away, leaving me naked before him, the sun kissing every part of my skin.
He stares at me, his eyes wide. Now there is no hiding his erection, it tents his shorts in an almost comical effect. He reaches out and snatches up my hand. I manage to scoop up my sarong and bikini, and then he’s pulling me across the sand, away from the shore, toward a small gathering of palm trees.
Caught in their shelter, we sink to the sand. I throw down my sarong again, knowing there’s no greater turn off than sand in places it shouldn’t be.
He lays me out on top of the material and I stretch out under his eyes, loving how he’s looking at me—like I’m something he wants to eat. As if he’s read my thoughts, he presses my thighs apart, opening my most private parts to him. He drinks me in, taking in the smooth, shaved skin, the moist, shining lips of my labia. Lowering his face to my snatch, his hot mouth closes over my mound.
I moan as his tongue makes contact with the hood of my clit, and he licks me in low, steady strokes, over and over. His hands sneak from my thighs, around to my ass, and he pulls my crotch hard against his mouth, his fingers digging into my buttocks.
Dipping down, he hardens his tongue and pushes into my tight channel. Pleasure shoots through my whole body and I cry out loud, the sound unexpected from my mouth. I clamp my hand over my mouth, not wanting to draw any more attention to us than I already have. But I have to admit, the thought of getting caught at any at any minute only makes me hotter and I imagine there are already people watching us, maybe his friends from the bar...
His talented tongue brings me back to reality, pulling out of my pussy to flick at my clit. A finger replaces the tongue, pushing up inside me, my inner muscles clamping down, pulling him deeper. My hands run over his head, his buzzed hair as soft as mole-skin. My orgasm is mounting, but I’ve not got my hands on him yet and I don’t want to lose the intense buzz I’m getting right now.
“My turn,” I say down to him, catching my breath.
He lifts his mouth from me and smiles. He moves higher, kissing the gecko tattoo nestled at my bikini line—a souvenir to myself from Northern Thailand.
Soft lips trail up over my skin, feather light, like butterfly wings brushing my skin, causing goose bumps to pop up all over my flesh, despite the heat. He looks up, his eyes shadowed beneath a fringe of dark lashes, insanely sexy, and a smile plays on his lips.
White lines mar my nut-brown skin. “You’re so tanned,” he murmurs against my skin.
“I’ve not quite braved nude sun-bathing. Must be the uptight Brit in me,” I say, knowing my recent antics have been anything but uptight.
He grins, “You don’t really want me to make a joke about having a Brit in you, but I think you’re setting yourself up for a fall.”
I shove at his shoulder; enjoying the hard curve of muscle my palm makes contact with, the smooth skin. This guy feels as good as he looks.
I pull him up to lie beside me and reach down and pop the button on his shorts. He’s going commando and I quickly rid him of the offending material, allowing his dick to spring free. It’s beautiful; a thick girth, long and hard. It’s my turn to push him to the sand and I climb on top of him, straddling his thighs. Hooking my blonde hair back with one hand, I lower my mouth to his hip bone, planting kisses tantalizing close to his cock, maintaining eye contact at all times. His dick jumps and jerks as I kiss and lick and nibble my way over his hip until I reach the thick base of him.
I allow my tongue to make contact with his erection. In one long stroke, I lick my way up to the smooth, shiny head, tasting the salty drop of clear pre-cum glistening from his slit. I close my mouth around his cock and he groans above me. My tongue swirls around his head and then I apply pressure and suck him deep into my throat.
“Oh fuck,” he moans. “You’re good at that.”
Encouraged by his praise, I bob back and forth, loosening my jaw so he can push deeper. His hips start to jerk but I don’t want him to come yet. While I’ve no problem swallowing, I want him inside me.
I pull my mouth from his cock and climb up his body, lifting myself so my wet pussy hovers above his gorgeous dick. Slowly, I lower myself onto him, feeling his cock press between my wet folds. My pussy stretches to take him and I sink down, drawing his full length deep inside me. I hold that position for a moment, pressing down even further, his dick hitting my cervix with a little twang of sharp pain.
He grabs my hips, encouraging me up, and so I lift up on him again, my saliva and juices lubricating the way. With me in this position, my tits bounce right above his face, and he curls his back and takes one of my nipples in his mouth. His teeth grate the sensitive peak and I have to stop my movements, allowing him to lavish attention on one and then move to the next.
I lean down close to his ear, “Put your finger in my ass,” I tell him.
My request shocks him for a moment, but then he glances up at me and deliberately puts his index finger into his mouth, lubricating it with his own saliva. He reaches behind me, his finger stroking my anus, just that slightest touch causing my pussy to clamp down hard on his cock.
“Oh God!” I gasp.
Gently, he lubricates my tight star and pushes into my ass. A slight burning pain snatches my attention, but I breathe deep and relax, allowing him to push deeper. With his dick still hard inside me, my head swims with pleasure and I’m sure I’ll come there and then.
But in the position we’re in, he can’t drive deep or hard enough while keeping his finger slicking in and out of my ass. Frustrated, he flips me around, sliding out of both holes. He puts me on my knees and moves around behind me.
Now he penetrates me deep, thrusting the length of his cock into my tight pussy, and plugs my ass with his thumb. His other hand is low on my back, keeping control as he pumps in and out. My ass is in the air, my elbows and forearms on the ground. My tits bounce as he slams into me while slicking his thumb in and out of my ass, doing a fine job of stimulating both orifices.
I reach between my own legs and rub fast circles over my clit, loosing myself in the sensations coursing through my body. My head swims with pleasure, my pussy pulsing with every thrust of his perfect cock.
My orgasm mounts, clutching me in its grip and I come, crying out into the sand, my whole body tensing as my orgasm tilts me over the edge and into another world of pleasure. My pussy shudders and ripples trying to milk his cock, but he holds off, allowing the last spasms of bliss to wash through me.
Unable to contain himself no longer, he pulls out and hot cum splatters over my ass and lower back. “Oh…fuck!” he cries, before slumping down to rest his ass on his heels, spent.
With nothing else handy, I use my sarong to wipe myself off, and then pull my bikini back on. We both collapse on the warm sand and he twists himself around to look at me.
“I think you’re right,” he says, catching his breath. “If there is a paradise, it can’t be far from this.”
I grin, a cheesy, self-satisfied smirk of contentment. “We’ll see,” I say. “There are plenty more countries to get through…”

~*~
M.K. Elliott
Romance and Erotica with an edge...
If you missed any of our previous posts and would like to catch up, you can purchase Everything Erotic Volume I, Volume II, Volume III, Volume IV, an Volume V anthologies as ebooks NOW FOR ONLY $0.99 EACH! Want it in print? Everything Erotic Volumes I-III is now available in paperback for $12.95.

Copyright © 2011 M.K. Elliott
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.




Thursday, July 28, 2011

The Voluptuous Correspondence of Lady X - Installment Eight by Alice Gaines

My precious X,

Your letter arrived just in time to save me from the torment of having to live without even a word from you. Of course, those words make a pale substitute for the sound of your voice in my ear, the feel of your mouth under mine, or the pure carnality of my cock taking up residence in your chamber. I long for you with a passion I wouldn't have believed possible before we met. I spend my minutes, hours, and days in a constant state of agitation, my member semi-erect and ready for the next opportunity to plunder your moist cunny. In truth, I often have to conceal my excitement behind multiple layers of clothing, and at night I try to give myself some relief. For naught, I'm afraid. I only wake in the morning wanting you all the more.

The tale of your dream seduced me thoroughly. As soon as I had finished it and put it aside, I determined to add more pleasures to the five the husband of your dream shared with you on your wedding night. Surely, a considerate lover would think of others as the two of us explored such an exotic and sensual setting.

In my mind's eye, I put myself in that pavilion with you. We'll have rested a bit after our first encounter. I'll let you sleep, even as Priapus reared his head to demand more. Though no longer a virgin, you’ll still require tender handling. I’ll have to lead you gently to more imaginative exercise lest you become shy and pull away in fear.

The sixth pleasure...I’ll devour you. I’ll pick some of the fruit from the surrounding trees and feed it to you. Perfectly ripe, the peaches will yield their flesh to the lightest touch of my fingers. I’ll pull bits away and press them to your lips. The fragrant juice will pour over my hands, and I’ll coat your lips with it so that I can taste the sweetness when we kiss. Your ardor will match my own, and soon our mouths will pass the nectar back and forth, shamelessly taking it and returning it along with our breath.

As any pretense of your shyness melts away, I’ll continue. I’ll spread more fruit onto the flesh of your neck, following with my tongue to lick it away. You’ll understand now, I think, that I intend to repeat the process all over your body. You'll be beyond objecting, though, as I proceed to the soft pillows of your breasts. Here, I’ll take berries and crush them and coat a nipple with their purple flesh. That, too, I’ll remove with my mouth, sucking at the tip eagerly. You’ll stroke my face as I circle the hardening flesh with my tongue. Teasing. Making you eager for even more lascivious caresses.

Before I go any farther, I’ll give your second breast the same loving attentions, and you’ll reward me with soft pleasure sounds. Gasps and sighs that tell me you're ready for the next step. The true sixth pleasure. Now, I’ll select the sweetest of the fruits, something so exotic we won't even know its name. I'll peel away the outer covering with such care that you'll lie studying my fingers as they work. Finally, when I've exposed the tender flesh of the fruit, I'll take a bite to make myself sure that it's ripe and luscious enough to spread over the most precious part of you.

The juice will dribble down my chin in the same way it will against my face soon, mixed with your nectar. I won't tell you my plan for fear of arousing your maidenly modesty. To prevent that, I'll wait until I've driven you to such a state of excitement you'll beg me to release you from the building hunger in any way I might wish.

Of course, in my eagerness, my thoughts run ahead of my actions. I return my attention to where you now lay so close to me and so vulnerable. Already your passions will have risen to the point where a flush covers your face and throat and all the way down to your chest and the breasts that rise and fall erratically with your labored breathing. I'll offer you the fruit for your approval. As Eve did to Adam in the garden, but this time, it won't be forbidden. No, my darling, our union will have the blessing of any loving deity, and the universe shall surely rejoice in it.

I'll watch as you sample the fruit, your lips closing around a section as you take the juice into your mouth. That will fill my mind with the image of how you'll deal with my member in future lovemaking sessions after we've been together longer and have learned more and newer ways to delight each other's bodies. For now, I'll store the memory away, even as my cock absorbs the implications and throbs in earnest. I'll be as randy as I was on the morning of our wedding day, when I knew that I could finally have you but also realized that I still had to wait.

When you take a larger bite of the fruit and smile up at me, I'll take it as your approval and permission for me to proceed. At that, I'll crush the remainder in my hand, turning the rest of the flesh to pulp. Then, lying beside you, I'll spread your legs and apply the fragrant stuff to the lips of your cunny.

(Did I tell you, my darling, that you will have been shaved there by your bridesmaids in preparation for your wedding night? I know you didn't mention that in the description of your dream, but I hope you'll give me license to include it. As much as I adore the curling hairs that cover your sex, for this encounter I want no impediment to my utter possession of your nether lips and the swelling bud above them. Grant me this small part of what is really your fantasy.)

I'll massage the juice into your skin. Firmly but gently, I'll work it in, not missing even a fraction of an inch of the sensitive flesh. My rubbing will have the desired effect, of course. You'll close your eyes and coo your delight as I run my slick fingers along the inside of the lips and press them at the entrance to your chamber.
Perhaps you'll clutch your breasts as your excitement mounts. You might even tug at the nipples. Not experienced enough to know how the sight will enflame me, you'll be doing it for your own enjoyment, but I'll respond, anyway. By now, I'll ache so desperately for you, I'll have to resist the temptation to end our play by plunging my member into you and rushing to the release that already threatens to overcome me.

But no...I'll continue with the sixth pleasure. My ultimate gift to you. Now that I've covered your sex with the sweet juice of the fruit (and elicited more of your own juices to mingle with it), I'll spread your legs wide and move my face between them. The moment I do will surely take the most strength of my will to continue rather than satisfy my overwhelming need for you. For now, I'll enjoy the scent of you at full arousal. Such perfume! The exact scent to drive me wild.

Still, I’ll restrain myself in order to share the most intimate caress with you. As I place my mouth against your mound, you'll tense for a moment. An untouched maiden a few hours before, you won't have imagined that men do such things for their women. When you object that the act is too naughty, even for husbands and wives, I'll respond by running my tongue against your pearl. You'll swoon from an excess of pleasure, and your legs will fall apart , allowing me to continue.

How shall I describe the taste of your cunny as I work your nubbin? Intoxicating, heady, and frankly sexual. I must have more and more. I'll lick you all over, lapping at the wetness up as your breaths turn to little cries. The exact sounds I'd hoped for because I'll have urged them from you. I'll anticipate your climax, knowing that it will be the best you've had yet.

Sure enough, as I take your pearl into my mouth, you'll give me your song. The rising pitch of your cries that signals the impending orgasm. I'll continue as your hips jerk upward. I'll clutch them tightly, keeping your pussy against my face so that I can give you every last second of joy. Having already felt the spasms of your chamber around my member, I'll know you're repeating them inside your body now, and I'll have achieved my most heartfelt desire.

Eventually, it will have to end, of course, and you'll whimper as you finish and fall limp against the bed. Eventually, you'll reach for me, and I'll slide up beside you. The expression on your face will be my ultimate reward. A soft look of love in your eyes and a smile of utter satisfaction on your lips.

Now then, my darling, I've taught my innocent bride another lesson in the ways of a woman and man's joining. But I've left myself in a very sorry state, indeed. May I prevail upon you to give me the release I so desperately need? Will you write back immediately to show me how you, my voluptuous bride, will reward my efforts to give you pleasure? I await your next letter with breathless anticipation.

As always,

Your adoring Richard.

Alice's website/blog:  http://www.alicegaines.blogspot.com/
E-mail Alice:  authoralicegaines@yahoo.com

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Patriotica ~ ARMY: Reserves

Content Advisory: the beginnings of a hot scene, but no actual sex.


The elevator bings and the doors whoosh open on my floor. Struggling with my grocery bags, briefcase, and purse, I step into the hall and sneeze. The metal whisks shut behind me as I drop two bags, the contents skittering across the carpet.

“Damn.”

“Hey, Danielle,” comes from behind me. “Need a hand?”

My neighbor down the hall, the one with the shy smile and quiet confidence, squats and picks up a bag of apples. A sigh escapes me as I push my hair out of my face, “Thanks, Steve. It’s been a long week and this is the icing on the cake.”

He and I clean up the mess, wrangling the goods back into their bags. His thigh touches mine as we both reach for a head of lettuce and heat warms my face at the brief contact. I’ve been dying to ask him over for dinner since last month when he moved in, but he’s so nice I can’t tell if he’d say yes or smile at me while he politely declines.

“How about I take these two and you handle the last one?” His light hazel eyes crinkle at the corners on his smile.

“Sure, thanks.” My heart picks up and I worry I’ve got a stupid sappy look on my face. That’s it, idiot, pant after him. No way a clean-cut, handsome guy like him doesn’t have a girlfriend already. Although… I haven’t seen anyone coming and going from his place on the weekends. Not that I’ve been looking or anything.

We stand, me awkwardly trying to look nonchalant, like hot guys always stop to help me when I drop stuff, and he motions me ahead down the hall before him, indicating I should lead the way. Conscious of his eyes on my backside, I try to walk with some elegance and class, glad I’m wearing trousers that make my ass look good.

“How was your week, Dani?”

I love that he’s calling me by my nickname, makes me hope maybe he’s thought of me as more than just his slightly clumsy neighbor. “Not bad. Same old, same old at the insurance company. How about you?” I say, while looking back over my shoulder.

“Climbing trees… taking names,” his tone sounds light and teasing.

“Oh, that’s right. You work with plants, what is it again?” I know exactly what he does; I paid close attention when I first met him, careful to conceal my drool. He specializes in removing and saving trees in dangerous situations. But I want to draw out the conversation, so I pretend I don’t recall.

“Arborist.” At my look of comprehension he goes on to joke in a deeper voice, making it sound like a military slogan in a commercial, “Challenging, hard work, and fun.”

We’re standing in front of my apartment now and I rummage through my purse for the keys. “Are you working this weekend?” I ask, hoping to find the courage to ask him to stay for a drink.

A thump from my apartment draws my attention as I slide the key into the lock.

“Do you live alone, Dani?” Steve asks in a low tone. I nod. “Pets?” I shake my head.

He places the bags on the floor and eases me away from the entrance. Reaching behind his back he pulls out a knife. Long and black, it has a jagged edge on one side near the handle and the blade glints in the bright light of the hall.

I gasp and Steve darts a look in my direction. “Stay out here and to the side, behind the wall.” I nod, my pulse pounding in my throat and adrenaline zipping through my veins. Wetness gathers in my panties and I’m not sure if I wet myself or I’m turned on by Steve’s calm, quick actions. I’m going to go with aroused rather than think I pissed myself in fright.

Steve crouches low and eases the door open, stepping immediately to the side. Footsteps sound from within and then they pick up, like someone is running. Steve bolts away and I can’t see him any longer or know what the heck is going on. A few tense moments later he comes back. “They’re gone.”

“They?”

“I saw two guys heading down your fire escape. A car was right below and I figured chasing them would be a waste of time.”

The blood freezes in my veins. Two guys? In my place? But why? What the hell could I have that they’d want? Maybe they robbed me?

“I’m not sure,” Steve says, making me realize I spoke my rambling fears aloud. “But they trashed your place.”

“What?” I say in shock, pushing past him to enter. Pulled out drawers, ripped up cushions, pictures on the floor, my new flat screen cracked and broken. Tears well in my eyes, it looks like a tornado came through. “But… but… why?”

Steve turns me to face him and pulls me into a hug. “I don’t know. But we need to call the cops.”

I nod my head against his chest, breathing in the outdoorsy scent clinging to his soft, faded t-shirt.

The next few hours proceed like a television crime drama. Patrolmen and a tired looking detective question me—over and over they ask what the men could have been searching for. Honestly, I have no idea. I’m a simple claims adjuster and I tell them everything I know in an effort to help.

Steve stays stoically by my side throughout the entire ordeal and I’m grateful for his presence. He holds my hand, squeezing it now and then to lend strength and occasionally runs a hand up and down my back in a soothing gesture. I’m hyper aware of his nearness and feel safest when he’s sitting by me in the wreckage that has become my home.

“Danielle?” A firm grip on my shoulder brings me crashing back to the here and now. “The police are done and said we can start cleaning up.” I look around at the mess and don’t know where to begin. “They suggested you take pictures for your insurance claim.”

Hysterical laughter bubbles up at the irony. I work for an insurance company and now will be at the mercy of another one to have my life restored.

“I can’t do this right now,” I say, bolting up out of a kitchen chair. “It’s almost midnight and I’m drained.” The thought occurs to me I could pull the bedroom together, sleep, and then tackle the worst of it tomorrow.

The front door snicks shut as the last cop leaves and a new reality races across my mind. Fear creeps up my spine and a shiver courses over me. “What if they come back?”

Steve hugs me again, running his hands over me, “Shhh…. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I can’t stay here tonight.” My muscles wind tight and my heart thumps loud in my ears. “I’ll check into a hotel.”

“Nonsense. I’ve got two bedrooms, you can stay with me.”

I look into his hazel eyes, wondering if he’s offering out of kindness or he has other plans. I’m not normally the clingy type, but snug against his hard chest I feel like nothing could hurt me. Torn between wanting to run screaming from the building and pinning this sexy man to the wall and kissing him, I nod. God, I hope there is no way in hell he can figure out how hot I am for him.



Invite her back to your place? Are you fucking crazy? How are you going to keep your hands off her? The litany runs through my head, along with others. I haven’t been close to anyone for years, but inviting the traumatized woman to my apartment spilled out before I could lock the words in.

Dani gathers some clothes and toiletries while I grab the grocery bags. We step carefully through the mess of her livingroom and head out the door.

“I’m not working this weekend,” I say.  I’d be happy to help you clean up tomorrow.”

A heavy sigh greets my offer, “Thanks, Steve. I was just thinking of what a nightmare this evening has become.”

We head three doors down the hall and enter my place. Hefting the bags up on the counter, I check for refrigerated goods. “Glad to see we didn’t leave milk or creamer out on your counter most of the night.” I turn back to Dani, who’s staring around my apartment.

“Wow, Steve. You actually have taste and keep your place neat. I’m impressed.”

I laugh at the unexpected compliment. “Being in the military for twelve years will do that to you. Make you neat that is.”

Dani’s eyebrows rise and she shots a shy smile my way. “Well, that explains the knife. Which branch of service?”

“Army.”

“Cool. What did you do?” She asks while heading into the living room with her small overnight bag.

“Ranger, Airborne.”

“You were a Ranger? Really?” She eyes me up and down, weighing me carefully.

“Didn’t expect such an average looking guy?”

“You’re far from average, Steve. But I guess I thought of them like the guys in movies – you know, big muscles and tiny heads?” A playful glint comes into her eyes and I’m glad to see she can tease after the shake-up she’s just had.

“Most Rangers aren’t linebacker-sized. You need stamina and strength and the really big guys can’t last as long carrying all the extra weight.”

A smoldering look crosses her face and she clears her throat. “Can I have a drink?”

“Sure – water, wine, or beer? That’s about all I’ve got.”

She heads back toward me, standing at the opening to my galley kitchen. “Beer is good and I need to eat, how about you?”

I nod as she comes closer, admiring her sleek blond hair and almond-shaped blue eyes. We settle in, working companionably side by side, preparing some salad with her fresh ingredients and pan-grilling two steaks I had in the fridge. Dinner at the island counter, seated next to one another on bar stools, feels like magic. God, I didn’t know I’d missed it so much.

My years alone have left me without a lot of people skills and I can’t tell if the evening is going well or if I’m hopeful. It’s close to one in the morning when we clean up and I’m not sleepy at all. The blood hightailing it to my crotch every time she brushes against me ensures I’ve been stiff and ready for the past thirty minutes or so.

Girls only touch a guy a lot when they’re interested, right? The pulse beating in my cock screams yes, but I’m still not sure it’s a wise idea to make a pass at her after the scare she’s had.

Dani leans one hip against the counter and runs the tip of her tongue along her top lip. The energy zipping through me reminds me of a harrowing repel down a hillside in Europe years ago – one that went by fast and dangerous. She’s hotter than hell and I hope my erection isn’t noticeable. I lift my beer to finish it off and try to not focus on her soft mouth.

“You said Ranger’s have stamina, right?”

 Sputtering a bit of my drink, I try to think of a comeback that won’t sound overtly sexual. “Umm… yeah… we had to be conditioned to run long distances and still complete the mission.”

My sexy neighbor leans in, bringing her lips close to mine. “I bet that translates into interesting things in other areas of your life…”

“Er…uh… I can work long hours and never lose focus.”

“Or… ” She says before touching her lips briefly to mine, “You can last long during other… activities.”

I wrap my arms around her back and pull her to me in a stifling kiss. Sheer desire grips me and I grind my hips into hers, hoping I’ve read the signs right and she doesn’t pull back and slap me.

“Oh God,” she says when she comes up for air. “I can feel how turned on you are, Steve.” She rubs her small breasts over my trembling chest. “Can you feel how hard you made my nipples?”

A shudder rips through me as I reach up to grasp one firm, taut globe, thumbing the extended peak with my thumb. “Are you sure you’re up for this, Dani? There’s no rush.”

A blazing look of want fills her eyes and she grabs my free hand and places it at the hot juncture between her legs. “This won’t wait, Steve.” A flash of uncertainty crosses her features, “Unless, you’re not interested in—”

Before she can finish the false thought, I lean down and capture her mouth once again with my own. Her tongue invades, as mine seeks to do the same to her. She tastes of the dinner we made and the beer we’re both drinking. The scent of her lingering spicy perfume tickles my senses, seducing me with the moment.

Her soft curves and toned body fill my hands—one roves behind to lift her ass and rub her against my aching prick, while the other still plays at her breast. I can’t believe this passionate woman wants to tumble into bed with me, but I’m not going to question good fortune when it arrives in such a delicious package.

Planting kisses along her neck, I nibble up to her ear. A shiver travels down her spine and she chokes out a question, “How old are you, Steve?”

“Thirty-two,” I answer, amused by her nervous chatter.

“I’m twenty-eight. So… are you married?”

I mumble my negative while biting the tight skin at her neck, hoping to draw her firmly back into the here and now.

“Ever had an STD?” She says while panting and grabbing my shoulders.

I pull back and look her dead in the face, “No, I haven’t. Anything else?”

“I-i-i just wanted to make sure…”

I give her ass a light rub and work down the seam dividing her ass cheeks, pressing in at her moist heat.

“Arrested?” she squeaks.

“Nope,” I assure her. “I’m a stand up guy. But right now, I’d much prefer getting horizontal. You game or is this your way of pulling back after you stirred me up?”

Her look gets hot, a mixture of desire and anger. “I don’t tease. But I do have my standards.” Her glare forces me to choke back my amusement. It hasn’t occurred to her I could easily lie to get into her pants, or maybe it has and she can read lies well. My mom always seemed to know when I lied.

“Well then,” I say while scooping her into my arms and carrying her to my bedroom, “is it safe to conclude I’ve passed so far?” I set her gently on the bed and start to remove her shoes. I toss them in the direction of my closet and her eyes follow them.

“Hey, is that a camo uniform in there?”

“Yeah, BDU’s. I’m still in the Reserves. Go in one weekend a month.”

Her face changes slightly, a mischievous glint coming into her eye. Her voice comes out in a soft whisper of sound, “Would you mind putting it on?”

My cock surges at her playfulness. Maybe a uniform turns her on? I’ve often met women while wearing my dress clothes. “No problem,” I say, a spark of fun lighting in me as well. I grab it and head to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

~~*~~

Tune in August 24th for the conclusion to this short story.

~~ C.J. Ellisson ~~

Copyright © 2011 C.J. Ellisson

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.


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Monday, July 25, 2011

Concerto ~One~


Content advisory: m/f sex
This is a new on-going serial about a love triangle and blackmail surrounding a war criminal.

Kyler stopped dead in his tracks. The long hidden and almost forgotten photo album lay wide open on his desk. He approached the heavy piece of furniture as if he suspected a rattle snake might be coiled beneath it. His hand shook as he reached for the thick book. It had not been there twenty minutes ago when he’d gone into the shower.

Someone had been in his apartment, but that wasn’t what had his heart sitting at the base of his throat where it had lodged in a choking lump. He flipped through the pages until he came to the center of the book. The large photo that should have been on the right hand page was missing.

He tried to swallow past the blockage in his throat without success. The photo of his great grandfather, Wieland Heiden, dressed impeccably in his Nazi uniform was gone.

His family skeleton had been liberated from the closet. Someone knew. Had known before they found the book. And had, without a doubt, come specifically for the photo. Because any thief who had half a clue would not have left without taking the violin case sitting beside the sofa. The photo was worth nothing, monetarily whereas the violin had appraised at thirty thousand dollars.

Every family had secrets. But they usually weren’t centered around a Nazi war criminal your mother and father harbored in their home. At ninety-three, the elderly Heiden was no longer a danger to anyone. But his past, littered with murder and atrocities against his fellow human beings, was a humiliation and horror Kyler never wanted to face. He’d always feared someone would discover the truth and it had happened.

He should have burned the damn photograph but for some sick reason, he’d kept it. The book had been given to him by his father. Family photographs from four generations stuffed the pages, and he’d been loath to destroy any of them. But now he wished with all his heart that he’d take the photo, torn it into shreds, and done the Watusi on the remains.

Who the hell had found out? And now what?
The mantle clock chimed six. There was no time to debate the situation. He had to get his ass to the symphony, though if the tremors in his hands didn’t stop, his playing wouldn’t be up to par for a member of the first violins section.
***
An hour and a half later, Kyler sat beside his stand-partner and warmed up. His hands shook and the bow articulated each waver loud and clear. Kyler fervently wished he had a fifty dollar piece of shit no one would hear instead of an instrument suitable for orchestra solo performance.

His stand partner glanced at him with raised eyebrows. Three chairs over, Amber shot him a look of questioning concern. His playing was going to suck. Which he couldn’t afford. With his sights on the soon to be vacant concertmaster chair, he absolutely needed to play at his best.

Two chairs beyond Amber, David smirked at him. Everyone in the first violins section was excellent, but David and Amber were his toughest competition for the concertmaster chair. If he had to lose, it had to be to Amber. Even if she did him wrong, he loved her. Amber was everything he’d ever sought in a woman. Unfortunately, David seemed to feel the same way about her.

Worse. Kyler was almost positive Amber was having sex with David as frequently as she was screwing him.

“Mr. Heiden?” a voice thundered above the various instruments.

Kyler’s gaze shot to the glaring conductor, Remiel Heber. “I’m sorry,” Kyler said and swallowed hard. Heat prickled his face. “Been a bad day.” It wasn’t an excuse and it also wasn’t acceptable.

“See that your performance is worthy of this fine orchestra. If you cannot play tonight, I suggest you remove yourself.” Heber’s glare intensified.

“I’ll be okay,” Kyler said.

“See to it.” Heber focused his glacier stare on an oboe player.

Jesus, it was going to be a bad night.
***
Kyler’s unfortunate prediction had turned out to be not only true but an underestimate. Deeply shamed, having suffered repeated dirty looks from Heber, Kyler wanted to slink from the concert hall, go home, and lick his wounds.

“What the hell was that all about?” David asked as he sidled up beside him.

“Just drop it,” Kyler said.

“If you can’t get yourself together and do better than that, perhaps you should step down.” David smirked at him again.

“Drop dead. And keep your fucking hands off Amber.”

“I don’t think so. I know she’s screwing you, but sooner or later, she’s going to figure out that you have no viable future. Your performance tonight is a prime example.

“You’ll never have her,” Kyler spat. His hand curled into a death-grip on the violin case’s handle.

“I’ve already had her. You can’t be so dumb that you didn’t know.” David spun on his heel and left Kyler with his mouth hanging open. He clapped it shut and stormed out of the venue.

The mid-July heat closed around him and stole his breath. His dress clothes made the oppressive temperature even worse. He hurried to his car and slid behind the wheel for a moment before keying the powerful motor to life and pulling into L.A. traffic.
***
An hour later, after another shower, Kyler sprawled on the sofa and considered the day’s events. Someone knew about the old man, that someone had broken into what was supposed to be a secure apartment, and David Jordan was fucking his woman.

Realistically, his first concern should be that someone had been in his apartment. But he didn’t think they’d be back. Whoever had broke in had been there specifically to take the photo.

Who knew outside of family? No one. And his family would be no more inclined to want that cat sneaking out of the bag than he did. And they sure as hell didn’t need to steal a photo. They all had pictures of the old coot.

Who then? Who had found out, and how?

The doorbell shrilled and Kyler jumped, torn from his reverie.

He didn’t want company. He needed to think things through, but he went to the door. No point in pretending he wasn’t home.

Amber stood in the immaculate hallway. She had a bag from Wong’s, his favorite Chinese takeout. “I wanted to see you tonight. I was worried about you.”

He held the door for her to come in, though a barb of jealous anger burrowed into his gut. “I’m fine,” he lied. After the performance he’d given, no wonder she was concerned. “I had a shitty day and I’m afraid it showed.”

She sashayed to his sofa and plunked the bag on the coffee table.

He fetched a couple cans of Coke and handed her one.

She pulled a container from the bag and passed it to him before taking one for herself. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Besides you fucking around on me? He should end it with her. He’d never put up with anything half as rotten as a woman cheating but he needed her. The idea of letting her go made a horrible day worse. “Nothing you can help with. I don’t really want to go into it.”

“Well, I hope it gets better fast.”

“Why?” Now he grinned even though he didn’t want to. “If I fuck up enough, you’re a sure thing for the concertmaster chair.”

“I don’t know about that. David might be better than either of us.”

“How long have you been fucking him?” There it was. He hadn’t planned to stir up that nest of bees, but it had just come out.

She looked him right in the eyes. “Two months.”

The words jabbed slivers of ice through his heart. “Are you dumping me for him?”

“No. I love you. But I have deep feelings for him, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His chest hurt.

“It means I want both of you. And unless you dump me, I’m going to have both of you.”

He looked at his bare feet and waited for the sick feeling in his stomach to ease a little. He wanted to dump her for hurting him so badly. He set the carton of vegetables and noodles on the coffee table and pushed it away. “I should,” he said. “But you know I won’t.” His day had now plummeted to rock bottom. At least nothing worse could happen before morning.

“You two are so different and yet, so much alike. You are my beautiful, blond, German god. David is my beautiful, dark, Jewish warrior. Is it so terrible that I care for both of you?”

“Yes,” he said, hating the sadness in his voice.

“I’m sorry.” She put her food down and moved close enough to press her soft body against his. Despite the turmoil roiling inside him, the contact sent his cock into a half-erect state.

Her warm hand caressed his cheek, gently urging him to face her. When he did, she pressed her soft lips to his in a lingering kiss. Her fingers tangled in his hair and without breaking the kiss, she maneuvered around until she sat in his lap, straddling him.

Her honeysuckle scent burned through him, enthralling him. Her warmth transferred to him, and he deepened the kiss, taking the lead in a somewhat aggressive, angry move. Her arms slid around him and she seated herself closer with her crotch pressed up against his now rock-hard cock. He grasped her ass with both hands and ground himself into her, rubbing hard against her crotch.

His breath quickened with the strokes of his tongue dancing along hers in a sensual tango. She moaned into his mouth. Encouraged, his tongue darted in an out in an imitation of what his cock would soon be doing in her hot pussy. He stopped stroking and sucked her tongue. He wanted to push her down on the sofa and fuck her senseless.

Like him, she had changed from her formal clothing and now wore casual sweats. He kept one hand on her ass while the other went exploring down the front of her pants. His questing fingers slipped under the elastic of her panties and traveled on through the short curls to her center where he dipped into soaking heat. He touched swollen flesh and she moaned. She wiggled her ass in an effort to get his hand into the best contact point.

He pinched her hard little bud a bit more forcefully than he normally would have done. She cried out, but didn’t seem to want him to stop applying pressure. He moved his hand and a long moan slipped from her. Repositioning, he pushed his index and middle fingers inside her pussy and pumped vigorously. Her moisture slicked his digits and palm as he worked her core.

His gaze fastened on her full breasts beneath a low cut, pink t-shirt. The little peaks were pebbled and taut. He wanted to draw them into his mouth and nibble on the succulent little buds. He thrust harder into her pussy.

Her hands slid down onto his arms and clung to his biceps. She bounced in counterpoint to the pumping motions of his hand, pleasuring herself on his digits. She tossed her head and her gorgeous red hair spilled down her back in a thick cloud. A low wail came out of her and she ground herself on his fingers. When she slowed and then stopped humping his hand, he pulled free of her clenching pussy and grasped her with his hands under her ass.

With her in his arms, he stood and strode down the short hall to his bedroom where he deposited her beside his bed. “Strip,” he demanded and divested himself of his own clothing. As she removed her clothes, he yanked back the comforter and blankets.

Anger still burned through him at her betrayal. When she was nude, she came to him and fitted herself against his body, trapping his hard cock between them. She reached around and burrowed her hand into his hair. “I love your beautiful hair,” she said and ran her fingers through the long strands.

She traced down to his belly and wedged her hand between them. With a smirk, she stepped back slightly and grasped his shaft. Her hand slid slowly up and down, working the skin over the hard core. He groaned and dropped his head until his forehead rested on her shoulder. Why did he have to love her? Or why couldn’t she love him enough to be content with him alone? His heart ached even as desire and heat pushed everything else aside.

He picked her up and laid her in the middle of the bed. He climbed in with her and gathered her close. He kissed her hard, rough. She moaned and opened her mouth for him. His tongue speared into her as he repositioned and fitted himself on top of her.

He moved down her body then leaned over to capture one pert nipple in his teeth. He nipped, then drew the delectable bud into his sucking mouth. He laved the peak with his tongue until she arched off the bed. He moved to the other firm globe while his hand massaged the peak he’d abandoned. He nibbled and sucked until she reached down for his cock and vigorously worked him.

Finally, he caught her hand and removed it from his dick. With a growl of possession, he moved up over her. He’d pleasured her well, now he wanted his own enjoyment. He sat on his knees and grasped her ankles then hauled her legs up over his shoulders. With her legs spread wide and open, he guided his engorged head to her opening and rammed inside her, filling her with one hard thrust.

She moaned and tilted her hips to take every bit of his length. Driven by anger and hurt, he slammed into her, fucking her hard. No longer caring if she had another orgasm, he worked solely for his own release, though he couldn’t resist playing with her nub, stroking and rubbing until she writhed under him. She wailed and bucked and her cream coated his cock while he continued pounding her, pushing into her soaked heat, battering her pussy.

He grasped his balls and massaged them. Picking up his pace, he felt the warning that he was going to explode. He slammed into her and erupted, shooting his load deep inside her. He kept pumping until he stopped spurting into her and his cock began softening.

He pulled from her and crawled up beside her, drawing her hot, damp body in against him. “Stay the night,” he said and locked his arm around her in a gesture of possession. She sighed and snuggled in close. She felt so good and so right in his arms. And he loved her, damn him for being the weak bastard he was. Why did he have to love a woman who wouldn’t be true to him? Jealousy burned through him like acid.

How had his life become so fucked up in such a short span of time? At least it couldn’t get much worse.

His cell phone burst to life in a rendition of Pachelbel’s Canon. Fuck that, he wasn’t answering the damn phone. He was going to cuddle with Amber and go to sleep and fuck everything else. Maybe things would look better in the morning.

After a while, Amber’s breathing slowed. She had gone to sleep. Curiosity got the better of him and he reached for the phone. He checked missed calls and didn’t recognize the number of the call he hadn’t answered.

He retrieved his voice mail and listened for a message.

He didn’t recognize the voice, but he had no trouble interpreting the words. The message was short and got right to the point.

“If you don’t want everyone knowing about your heritage and that criminal your parents are harboring, you’ll want to keep me happy. You can start by leaving ten thousand dollars in a briefcase. Leave it in the maintenance closet at the symphony after the next performance. If I see you or anyone else watching the closet, next time it will cost double. Got it pretty boy? See you soon.”

Kyler’s stomach had twisted into a hard knot. The son of a bitch wanted ten grand. How was he going to pay it? He didn’t have that kind of money. Panic dug its claws deep into him.

 If people found out, his great grandfather would go to prison where he would die. His parents would be disgraced and maybe go to prison for adding and abetting a criminal. And his career would be history. No one would want anything to do with him even though he was innocent of any crime and despised what his great grandfather had done.

What in the hell was he going to do?



~ Nickie Asher ~





Copyright © 2011 Nickie Asher

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.