SWEET SEDUCTIONS
an anthology
by
JEN ASHTON
STEPHANIE ST. JAMES
JAX CASSIDY
Ashton Edition
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Jen Ashton
Sweet Seductions
Copyright © 2011 by Jen Ashton
Cover by Jen Ashton
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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*This ebook contains explicit material suited only for adults and is intended for those over 18 years of age.
SWEET SEDUCTIONS
an anthology
4 EROTIC SHORT STORIES by Jen Ashton
Erotic tales of titillating variety. From getting down and dirty with the boss, to public sex and adultrous affairs, these stories will heightened the senses and leave you breathless for more.
BUSINESS OR PLEASURE by Stephanie St. James
Callie Armstrong is on a mission to convince Lone Star Shipping’s CEO not to buy up her family’s business. A mission that’s cut short when he refuses to see her. Discouraged, Callie drowns her sorrows in a one night encounter with a handsome hunk from the hotel bar. The next morning Callie almost faints from shock when she’s finally let in to see the owner - none other than Mr. Last Night! Somewhere between the boardroom and the bedroom a one night fling flirts with real love, and suddenly Callie stands to lose more than just her company.
DEVIL’S HEART by Jax Cassidy
Flynn Donovan’s home is on a stage, strumming her guitar in underground bars. Close to her big break, she’s summoned to Ireland and faced with a life-altering choice—and a six-foot, dimpled distraction in the form of local pub owner Patrick Keane. Can Flynn give up the real-life fairytale for her lifelong dream? Sometimes the most difficult choices are the ones made while the music plays on.
SWEET SEDUCTIONS, an anthology…three storytellers of sensual and erotic romance in one very sizzling eBook collection!
THE BOARDROOM
HAPPY HOUR
A MIDNIGHT AFFAIR
FATHER FIGURE
4 Erotic Short Stories
by
JEN ASHTON
BOOKS BY JEN ASHTON
Goddess On The Go:
A Guidebook to Becoming Irresistible
Adonis On The Go:
A Guidebook to Becoming Irresistible
My Teenage Heart
A Collection of Poetry
Turds in the Punch Bowl
SHORT STORIES
The Pleasure Diaries:
Six Sinfully Delicious Stories Volumes 1, 2, 3
Guilty Pleasures:
3 Pleasure Diaries in One
Sexcapades:
Six Sizzling Short Stories Volume 1, 2, 3
Sexy Tales
3 Sexcapades in One
Simply Irresistible Sex Stories Boxed Set
Pleasure Diaries and Sexcapades
Instant Erotica
Six Perfectly Pleasurable Stories Volumes 1, 2, 3
Instant Pleasure
3 Instant Eroticas in One
Monstrous Love
Six Tales of Pleasure and Peril
Between the Sheets
Erotica for Couples
Tempting Her
Lipstick Lesbian Stories
Strange Sex
18 One Night Stands
Into the Night
Paranormal Sex Stories
ANTHOLOGIES
Dark Romances
Any Time. Any Place.
Volumes 1, 2
THE BOARDROOM
I had only been employed for three weeks by the time things started to heat up with the boss. At that point it was becoming difficult to decipher whether I had been hired for my brain or my body. I loved my job and definitely felt that I was out-performing my colleagues in the marketing department, but the special requests from my higher-up were beginning to create a stir, and I wasn’t complaining.
I worked in the creative department of a marketing firm. My office was down the hall from the other employees on my floor, a bit secluded and off the beaten path. I was new, after all, and they hadn’t quite made adequate space for me in the main sector. I primarily worked alone when I wasn’t being summoned by the boss to come check out another new idea; a cheap excuse to study my curves and sneak a peek down my shirt.
The boss was a sophisticated Aussie with a flair for cutting edge concepts. Bold and brazen, he was a powerful CEO with an obsessive compulsive disorder. He was so meticulous about every fine detail in the office and in providing our services. Most feared him, but my infectious smile seemed to weaken his callous exterior, lending ourselves to random moments of flirtatious glances and subtle laughs. As these moments started to compile into a medley of daily assemblies in his executive office, our professional relationship became clouded by personal conversations.
“How are ya today, Lass?” he would ask every morning. “Got a bloke in your life yet?”
“Not yet, boss,” was always my answer. I would then smirk and turn to walk away, swaying my hips and shaking my ass for him. A time or two I got caught looking back to make sure he was watching. It was pretty apparent that we were feeling each other out.
I knew the other marketing geniuses had an inkling that something was awry. The boss would call us all in for meetings and single me out for my opinion. He always went with my suggestions and ordered his minions to jump on my bandwagon. He would adjourn the discussion with a playful expression and a sweet murmur in my ear.
“Good on ya!”
“Thanks, Boss.” I was a sucker for his little comments and shimmering stares.
His bright eyes were as blue as the Caspian Sea. He lit up when in my presence, showing a softer side that not many had witnessed before my recent employment. He was slighter in stature, with blonde hair and tan skin, but he made up for his height with tenacious self-assurance and dogged ingenuity. I admired his strength and confidence.
One particular Monday, he waltzed by my office and peered through the glass to see what I was up to. I assumed he made the trek to my side of the building because he hadn’t seen me all weekend and I had not yet made it in to see him that morning. I was anticipating this exact encounter, as well as the boardroom meeting scheduled later that day, and had prepared myself accordingly.
I was sitting at my desk, leaned forward, exposing my cleavage. My blazer was unbuttoned and my breasts peeked through my black lace top. My hair was loosely coiled above my shoulders and my lips were a sultry shade of red. Under my desk I wore a sleek skirt that hugged my frame, directing attention down my thighs to the lower half of my crotchless French-cut pantyhose. Never one to disappoint another’s viewing pleasure, I finished off the look with a sharp pair of six inch stripper heels.
The boss stopped in his tracks, salivating, and popped his head in, “Lookin’ good, Lass! Ready for the board meeting today?”
“I was born ready, Boss!”
I assured him that I was by holding up the notes I had prepared the evening before, and he retreated back to the hallway smiling ear to ear. He took one last, long glance at me before meandering out of sight, and I got back to my marketing efforts for the day.
Just then my phone beeped, indicating that I had a text message. I reached down under my chair and retrieved it from my purse to see who it was.
“BTW, You look so fuckin’ sexy today.”
It was a message from the boss. My not-so-subtle plan to grab his attention was working. I didn’t even have the time to respond before my phone beeped again.
“Are you wearing a bra?”
I giggled to myself, proud of my accomplishment. The boss was taking notice and a fire was beginning to burn inside me. I hurried to reply suggestively.
“No,” followed by a winking smiley face.
Seconds passed and the boss came careening around the corner and back into my office. He hesitated in the doorway, glanced down the hall in both directions, and quickly slammed the door and hit the light switch.
“Don’t worry, they’ll think you’re out to lunch,” he ensured.
The front of my office was an encased glass window that overlooked the finance department. Four other offices faced mine, although thankfully they were out to lunch at this juncture, and we were all alone.
“What are you doing to me?” he demanded. “I can’t even think today after seeing you dressed like that!”
I smiled delightfully and scooted back in my chair, twisting to the side so that he could see my shoes peeking out from behind my desk. I watched as he slowly approached me, anxiously needing to see what I was wearing on the bottom half. As his eyes met my long, toned legs, I crossed them and leaned over to one hip.
“Is there something I can help you with, Boss?”
He stumbled over his words and walked over to me. It was dark, but the hall light illuminated my office enough to see his intense eyes. I could feel him breathing heavy over me.
“I think you know what I want,” he groaned as he crashed his elbow on my desk and swept his arm across it. Everything atop it went crashing down to the floor; papers were flying and pens were rolling. In an instant he had cleared my desk, swept me up and pinned me down in the clearing. “And, I think you want it too!”
My back was pressed against the top of my desk and his weight was pinning me to it. He held me by the wrists and forced his body onto mine. He slid his knee up between my legs and compressed it against my womanhood.
“I’m a bit of a control freak,” he confessed.
I released his grip on my arms and placed my hands on his hips, pushing him off me. I shoved him backward and got to my feet. Swiftly lunging forward into him, I pressed on until he was backed against my project table. He tripped over himself and fell onto the tabletop. I climbed on to his lap, straddling him and running my fingers through his blonde waves.
“I am too,” I admitted. “I can see this is going to be a battle!”
He laughed under his breath and wriggled to regain control. I nodded discerningly and pounced upon his lips with my own. He gave in to me and opened his mouth to let me in. We kissed briefly before we heard my fellow employees returning from lunch.
I withdrew and sashayed back into my chair. He stepped up and stood behind me, reaching down over my shoulders to grope my breasts.
“Oh my God,” he muttered. “I want you so bad.”
I grabbed his right hand and skimmed my tongue across his fingers. In an attempt of slight seduction, I maneuvered his hand down my chest and across my stomach. With my other hand I lifted my clothing away from my body and then forced his hand down my skirt. Panty-less and donning open-crotched tights, his fingertips easily found my moist pussy lips and slid right through them.
“Oooooh!” he moaned.
The voices in the background were nearing and I feared getting caught. I granted his hand back and turned around to stand and face him. Politely cupping his package in my hand and squeezing it, I insisted he leave.
“You better go now!” I paused to witness his reaction, which ended up being complete and utter shock. “Go,” I said, “get out of my office!”
He turned and left, flipping the light on upon his exit.
Beep…
I knew it was him texting me again.
“You taste like sweet nectar on my fingers.”
I did not reply.
The rest of the day sailed by without a hitch, including the board meeting. He was professional and astute, but restless. He has never been one to sit still through lengthy meetings. He has self-professed Attention Deficit Disorder and claims that long-winded proposals and lectures bore him to death. I took this opportunity to finally respond to his text.
“Bored, Boss?”
I saw him fidget with his phone under the conference table.
“You know it!”
My tendency to yearn for domination urged me to try to break him during our conference.
“I was just thinking about what I could be doing to you on the boardroom table right now.”
The lecture continued outside of our inside conversation. No one in the room knew that we were fantasizing about a sexual encounter on the very table where they were planning their next big branding campaign. He fumbled again for his phone, grinned and bit his bottom lip.
“It wouldn’t be a “bored” room then! LOL”
He was right. The sexual tension was building fast. I began daydreaming about taking my boss right there in front of everyone. I suddenly wished I was wearing panties as my feminine fold gushed uncontrollably. My juices were trickling down my leg, soaking the lace trim of my pantyhose.
My phone beeped once more.
“Meet me here. Boardroom. 10pm tonight. Wear those heels…ONLY!”
I complied and used my employee keycard to enter the building five minutes before ten. I crept quietly upstairs and made my way to the executive bathroom adjacent to his office where I unclothed.
I tiptoed across the hallway to the Bored Room and cracked the door open. He was sitting in the dark, all the way down at the head end of the boardroom table, undressed, with his feet propped up and his cowboy boots on.
“Come in,” he commanded.
I trotted in wearing nothing but my heels and a smile. The moonbeams filtered in through the bay windows and outlined the curvature of my legs and ass as every muscle swayed in the pale light. I slithered across the floor without hesitation and scaled the table on my knees, crawling toward him like a stealth panther until I reached the center. I motioned for him to come hither and join me, and then ascended to my feet.
He scrambled toward me and I halted him with my heel, sticking it into his clavicle. I leaned down and pulled him up by his chin to a kneeling position. I stood above him, knees locked in a powerful stance like an exotic queen. If I had been in complete power, I would’ve ushered him to bow before me. Rather, I escorted his face into my pussy and thrust my hips forward into his jaw.
“I’m the boss now!” I cackled, forcing his head into my pelvis.
He submitted to my improvisational cabaret and spread my labia like soft velvet curtains. They were pink and swollen like two warm tarts wedged together, pleading for him to lick the sweet cream between them. He raised his hands to my ass and squeezed my cheeks with all his strength. He pulled me forward into his mouth, licking and lapping with his tongue like a carnivorous beast feeding on my tender flesh.
He shifted his body underneath me and sat upright. I pressed down upon his shoulders and guided him to lay on his back, my pussy still sitting on his face. Once in complete surrender, I rocked my body backward and took a seat on his chasm-craving cock. He filled my sweltering slot with his enormous rod and I rode him into the night.
“Ah! Fuck!” he exclaimed. “You feel so fuckin’ good, Mate!”
I loved the way he spoke, his Australian accent and slang, but I wanted to Americanize him. There was something sexy about teaching an immigrant how to fuck like a citizen. As far as I was concerned, this was my land that he was coming to explore; mountains, caverns and all.
“Where do you want me to cum?” he asked hastily.
I pulled him out of me and swapped my grip to my hands and began to stroke him to the finish line.
“All over me,” I persisted.
I aimed his geyser onto my chest and let his salty emulsion saturate my skin and drip down my belly. I arched my back and let in the moonlight, his semen glistening on my torso. I had just bedded my boss and I was bathed in the precarious evidence. There I was, a nude employee straddling my superior on the boardroom table, wrapping up a successful private meeting.
“Wow!” he conceded, “I guess you are the boss!”
We disengaged and descended to the floor. As I was headed to the bathroom to shower and head home, he called out to me.
“I will never be able keep a straight face in a board meeting again!”
I turned around, concurring with a sheepish grin and contagious laugh. He then hinted that our expert escapade wouldn’t affect my job, and that he intended to keep things somewhat professional.
“I expect to see you in the office tomorrow, Lass,” he affirmed. Further requesting, “And, I suggest you wear something similar to what you wore today!”
THE END
~~~~~
HAPPY HOUR
Tuesday afternoon I escaped work early and joined my girlfriend for happy hour on Main Street. I walked through the door of the cantina around two o’clock to partake in our twice a month all-you-can-eat tacos and two-for-one margaritas. I saw my friend sitting at a table near the rear of the establishment and waved to let her know I had identified her amongst the crowded tables. She was a beautiful blonde, stunning and tall; the kind of woman that men trip over themselves after. There she sat, alone, snuggled into a corner table waiting for me to accompany her.
“Hi!” She exclaimed as she stood up to greet me with a hug.
I kissed her on both cheeks and hugged her in return, “Hey girl, you look great!”
She was always dressed so refreshingly seductive. She had on a turquoise mini dress and tan heels, accessorized with sparkling jewelry. She believed in adorning her best at any given moment of the day just in case she met the man of her dreams. I, on the other hand, came straight from work wearing a white dress shirt tucked into my high-waisted black pencil skirt; although I was garnishing a steep pair of black patent stilettos!
“Sit, sit,” she insisted as she patted the seat next to her in the booth, “I ordered for us already!”
We got cozy in the alcove and began to catch up on the week’s gossip. She always has these stories of her latest sexual conquests with Mr. Right Now. She tells me about wild sex and romantic nights with handsome men, both foreign and domestic. Sometimes, I long to be her, so free-spirited and adventuresome.
“So,” she begins, “I met this guy last weekend…”
Somewhere in the first few words of her sentence I tuned out and turned my attention to a distinguished gentleman sitting at the bar. A handsome, but casual businessman with dark features and broad shoulders was ogling in our direction while sipping a margarita on the rocks.
Is he looking at her…or me?
I turned to my girlfriend as she continued chit-chatting and expressing herself with her hands, diving deeper into her story about a hot tourist that she banged on the beach. She wasn’t paying attention to anyone else in the restaurant, and most definitely didn’t notice the hunk at the bar. So, I peered back at him out of the corner of my eyes and smiled.
He smiled back and seductively licked the salt from the rim of his glass. I could only imagine what he was insinuating. I wasn’t sure what to do at first. He had made such a forward gesture and I wasn’t used to such come-ons. I turned my attention back to my sexually free and uninhibited friend who was still talking away, reminiscing about the sand she had found in every nook and cranny of her body the morning after her tryst under Lifeguard Tower 44. I admired her ability to be so outgoing and loose.
Suddenly I had an idea.
What if I adopt her care-free spirit for a few moments and see where that leads with this handsome barfly?
I reached forward and scooted my frozen margarita to the edge of the table near me. I glanced over at the bar to make sure he was watching and then slid my straw up to my mouth. I wrapped my lips around the end of it and slowly, sensually inserted its length into my mouth. I watched his jaw drop as I released it from my grip and began to twist my tongue around the red plastic stand-in that I was pretending to perform a blow job on. He was thoroughly amused by my reciprocity.
He raised his glass for a long distant toast and I held mine up in return. We both took a sip and politely revisited our immediate company. My girlfriend couldn’t have been more preoccupied by her own self. She was none-the-wiser to my flirtatious behavior and seemed to care less about whether I was even sitting at the table. She was the kind of girl who most likely talked just to hear herself talk.
The playful reenactment I had performed for my audience of one had me a little hot and bothered. I could feel my panties becoming moist as my body temperature began to rise. I unbuttoned the top button of my blouse and fanned myself. Clearly, I had turned myself on.
“I’ll be right back,” I mentioned to my friend, and excused myself to the restroom.
The place was teeming with hungry patrons and drunken table talk. I slithered through the maze of congested tables and bustling waitresses toward the hallway near the restrooms. I found the door labeled Senoritas and attempted to open it, but found it to be locked. I was standing against the wall waiting my turn when Mr. Margarita snuck up behind me.
He grabbed my hand and slid his fingers between mine. I turned around to see who had taken hold of me. He cut me off from saying anything before I could speak and said, “Waiting for the restroom? Come with me.”
Dashing us both through the door that read Senores, I found myself in the men’s restroom of a seedy little mom and pop cantina with a handsome devil of man who was about to take me on a naughty-girl adventure. He locked the door and approached me.
“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
I wasn’t sure if this was exactly what I had in mind when I gave head to the straw in my frozen margarita, but I had definitely started something that I had been fantasizing about for the greater part of ten minutes. Something was about to go down in this dirty, public restroom.
“Mmmm hmmm,” I nodded like a little school girl, though I was dressed more like a sexy school teacher. I shuffled my feet in nervous hesitation.
“So, what did you have in mind there, Little Lady?” He asked this as he started to remove his suit jacket and look around for a place to lay it down.
I could see his muscles protruding beneath his dress shirt. His pants were pleated yet fitted, revealing a bulge in them that was unmistakably large. I could feel my panties soak again from the thought of what I might find inside his trousers. His dark eyes were seducing me as he awaited my answer.
Shit, what do I say? I have never done anything like this before! I’m not even sure if I know how to be sexy like this! What would my girlfriend say in this situation? Okay, I will just say the first thing that comes to mind.
I pulled him in close by his tie and whispered, “I want you to fuck me like you paid for it.”
Oh my God!!! Did I just say that? So lewd!
He picked me up and sat me on the soiled sink, hiking up my skirt and clawing at my panties underneath. My stilettos clanked together as my feet dangled and searched for some traction. He retrieved my wet panties and peeled them down my legs hurriedly. I was faltering about, trying to find somewhere to place my hands to hold myself up. The water that had been splashed around the sink was soaking through my skirt and the soap residue was slippery. I reached up to my side and held onto the paper towel dispenser to brace myself.
He hastily unzipped his khakis and pulled his huge erection from his boxer briefs. He unfurled it and held it out for me to view. Its girth was astounding. His perfectly domed head was designed to pilot the course for such a vessel. I was in trouble, but the good kind of trouble!
My underwear was wrapped around my ankles. I couldn’t reach down to remove them completely. His pants and briefs stayed hugged around his thighs as he grasped his manhood in his own hand and edged toward me. I dragged myself to the rim of the sink and hiked my skirt up to my waist. He rubbed the tender skin between my legs with the crown of his cock, sneaking amid my crease casually. His phallus was laying a trail of lust and lubrication up and down my lover’s lane. He was teasing me and it was driving me wild!
The cold porcelain of the sink against my ass was controlling my core temperature as the heat was rising within me. I couldn’t believe I was about to have sex with a stranger in the men’s room of a bar. I felt so filthy, so mischievous, so…free!
It couldn’t happen fast enough. I took his swollen member in my hand and shoved it into my throbbing hollow. The thickness of his shaft pressed tightly against me as I rode it all the way down to the base. His mammoth appendage made my pussy feel brand new again; snug and secure like a virgin. He rammed his orgasmic organ in and out of me with the kind of passionate roughness that you only exert upon a stranger.
“Take it!” He ordered, as he thrust himself deep into my pussy.
I was struggling to keep my grip on the wall-mounted dispenser with every forceful plunge he took down my carnivorous canal. I was tearing at the wall, the faucet and him to acquire a position where I could stimulate my clit and climax. I grabbed a hold of his jet black hair, entangled my fingers in it, and looked into his deep eyes.
“Make me cum!” I instructed.
Just then someone began pounding on the door. We didn’t have much time and the insistence of needing to finish in a flash heightened the excitement.
“Hurry!”
He fucked me harder and faster. The friction from his grinding groin polished my clit and my blood began to boil over. I could feel my walls coming down around him as I released a surge of gratuitous goodness onto him. My sweet whimpers rang throughout the claustrophobic walls of the seedy sex chamber we had confined ourselves in. I was afraid whoever might be outside the door would hear me, so I swung my foot around and pressed the handle of the toilet down to muffle the sound with a flush.
Whoosh!
I could feel him close to rupture. He was engorged and inflamed inside me. He let out an arcane groan of relief and shook violently, “Fuuuuuucccccck!”
He held me there long enough to finish and pull out so we could compose ourselves quickly. He fastened his pants and tucked in his shirt as I pulled my panties on and struggled to lower my skirt back down to my knees. We both pressed our shirts with our hands for an impromptu ironing to assure we looked presentable, and flushed the toilet one more time.
“Are you ready?” He asked.
“Yah,” I responded as I tousled my hair in the mirror to eradicate the freshly-fucked do I was sporting.
“You go first, and I will follow.”
He unlocked the door and slowly peaked out. There was no longer anyone there so I slipped out swiftly, giggling all the way back to my table. The crowd seemed to lock their eyes on me. It must have been my guilty grin that gave me away so easily. Or perhaps I just felt culpable, so my perception was that everyone knew about my sullied bathroom scandal.
I reeked of sex and tacos, but no one noticed. I slithered back into my booth to find that my girlfriend was shooting the breeze with our waitress. She was notably drunk and untroubled by my absence.
“Oh! There you are, Dear!” she slurred. “Would you like another margarita?”
I laughed to myself and nodded to the waitress, “Why not?”
THE END
~~~~~
A MIDNIGHT AFFAIR
I swore I would never do anything like this. It goes against every moral code and everything I believe. Yet here I am, dressed to kill, driving across town in the middle of the night to consummate my affair with a married man.
We had been flirting at work for months. I had been his listening ear, his shoulder to cry on, his pillar of strength and his un-licensed therapist through his marital woes recently. Somewhere between the coffee breaks and conversations, we had fallen in love. I never saw it coming or I may I have tried to stop it. Everything about this is wrong, but this—whatever it is—is bigger than us. The fact that I know better than to get involved with a married man is of no consequence here. He is magnetic, pulling me in against my will and power. This love, this salacious emotional affair, is about to get serious. My brain tells me it’s not too late to stop now—turn around, don’t do this—but my heart is gravitated toward the hope and the thrill. I keep driving.
It’s dark and the street lights start to blur as I press my stiletto heel into the gas pedal. My car is racing as fast as my heart by now. I am dressed to the nines. I shouldn’t feel as though I have to impress him, we are beyond that, but I wanted to look my best for our first time. I’m wearing a black cocktail dress, French-cut pantyhose with a back-seam, smashing stilettos and a three-quarter trench coat. I have my hair half pulled up, bronzed cheekbones and luscious lip gloss on my puckering lips. My breath is shallow and my heart is full as I speed down the highway toward our rendezvous point.
I pulled into the drive of the seedy motel on the outskirts of town around 12:30am. The vacancy sign buzzed and hummed loud enough for me to hear inside my car. The bright neon sign above the small dingy office that read ‘hourly rate’ told a story of the ladies of the night that I had seen walking the boulevard moments earlier. This was not my kind of place, but I suppose it was the kind of place that housed the goings-on of adulterers and their mistresses. Perhaps on this night, I did belong here.
I pulled up next to his dark SUV and we both turned off our headlights. He had already paid for the room, and yes, we opted for the hourly rate. He wouldn’t be staying with me tonight. And I wouldn’t be staying in this part of town alone after his departure. He got out and motioned for me to join him as we walked to the first floor room with a broken three on its knocker. Of course it was broken; just like his marriage would be after tonight, just as my promise was to myself months ago that I wouldn’t get involved with him. Funny how things change.
“I don’t have much time,” he said to me as he wiggled the key in the lock and attempted to open the door.
“I know,” I replied regretfully.
He had been able to convince his wife that he intended to try for an earlier flight to Chicago that night, but in actuality he was still booked on his red-eye that departed at three. We hadn’t much time. This wasn’t what I had envisioned our first time would be like and I was hesitant about setting a pattern to be the dirty mistress that he fucked in a roadside motel once a month, but this was all we had right now. For some reason I was going with it. Something about the salaciousness of this affair had a tight hold on me and I was eager to be with him however, whenever, wherever.
We laughed as he tried to open the door, huddling together in the cold of the night, in a hurry to rip our clothes off and warm one another with our body heat. We fell into the room as the door flung open. He closed the door behind us and took me in his arms immediately. He started kissing me frantically, lustfully.
“Fuck, I have wanted you for so long,” he whispered through his panting voice.
“Me too,” I assured him as I threw my head back and let him devour my neck and throat with tiny bites and succulent kisses.
I fell into him as he peeled my coat off and it dropped to the floor. I returned the favor and pulled his dinner jacket from his shoulders and down his muscular arms. He loosened his tie and I unbuttoned his top shirt button to allow him to breath. He seemed to be suffocating in his nervous anticipation.
“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” he exclaimed as he groped my hips and pulled his pelvis into mine, simulating what he might do to me a few moments from now.
“I know,” I muttered under my slight moans as I imagined taking him in my body for the first time. “I have been fantasizing about this.”
“Oh yeah?” he inquired.
I smiled and gave my hips to him. He grasped my ass in his strong hands and sunk his fingertips into my supple round backside. We made love with our mouths; kissing, sucking, nibbling. I wanted to eat his tongue, swallow it whole and suck the breath from his lungs. I couldn’t get deep enough into his mouth and he was noticeably feeling the same. We consumed one another’s faces greedily and wantonly. His passion for me was unwavering as he pressed his body into me and engulfed me into his adulterous embrace.
I slipped the tie from his neck and unbuttoned his dress shirt to reveal his solid mass. His chest and torso were taut and muscular, tan and smooth and mine for the taking. I clawed at him and peeled his shirt from his sweating skin. He was anxious and revved up. I was equally warm and fuzzy. He hastily reached up and unzipped my dress, sliding the zipper down my arched back. The coolness of the air swept in and chilled my skin, giving me goose bumps and the shivers. He glided his firm fingers inside the bottom of my dress and squeezed my ass. I lifted my right leg and wrapped its toned length around his thigh. He held me tight and pushed me back onto the bed. His masculine body smothered me as we landed on the comforter and the bed creaked beneath us.
“Take this off,” he said sweetly as he tugged on my dress.
Already undone and falling off my shoulder, I wriggled beneath him to slide my dress down, revealing my perky tits yearning inside my pink lace bra. My bright pink nipples were erect and ripe, waiting to be suckled. They peeked out and pointed to his salivating lips. He clinched the lace and pulled it aside, exposing my left breast where my heart palpitated restlessly underneath. He licked his lips and leaned in to kiss it. His warm and moist mouth took my breast in and teased my hard nipple with his unyielding tongue. His hungry kisses left me powerless as he obsessed over my tits and worshiped them like beautiful shrines.
My hands wandered southward to his belt as I unbuckled it. I struggled to unfasten his dress pants in the heat of the moment, but succeeded and proceeded to unzip them to unleash his phenomenal flesh beast. He was rock-hard and his enormous erection filled my grip. His throbbing hard-on grew inside my small hands until my fingers could not wrap around it anymore. He was huge! His monstrous male muscle was stiff and ready, hot and waiting.
I stroked him eagerly, enticing him to lube up before entry. He pulsated and oozed in my embrace as I groped and twisted up and down his thick shaft. I couldn’t take it anymore. My panties were soaked and my labia swung open like theater curtains on opening night. He pushed my dress up around my waist and clawed at my panties, pulling them aside rather than removing them. We had time to undress, but didn’t bother to. He, still in his trousers with a massive growth sprouting from them, and I with my dress around my middle and panties to the side, were ready to consummate this wildly erotic and completely toxic love affair.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked briefly before penetration.
“Absolutely,” I answered. “I’ve never wanted something so bad in my life.”
“We can never go back, you know?”
“I don’t want to go back,” I reassured him.
“What are we going to do then?”
“About what?” I asked.
“About us.” His confident voice was hesitant, but deep.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Let’s not worry about it right now.”
I tried to console him, though I was thinking the very same thing. I just didn’t want to ruin the moment. I was hot, horny and dying to feel his girth fulfill my dripping wet pussy.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “We can figure it out later. Right now I should concentrate on this incredible body I am about to devour.”
I was glad he saw it my way.
He slipped his ripe head between my yearning lips and slid his meat rocket into my tubular temptress. I gasped in orgasmic wonder as he dove deep into my passionate abyss. His moist helmet opened the path for his long, thick soldier to pack my feminine valley on his way to my g-spot. My sweet cream glossed his colossal cock as he penetrated me, plunged deep and slid back out in one long stroke. My wetness saturated his veiny manhood and he dove back in for another taste.
“You feel amazing,” he whispered.
He was right. I did feel amazing. I felt satisfied and secure in our consummation. I felt good about us, about him, about the affair; if only for the moment. I knew we were bad, but it felt so good. I kind of liked the dichotomy. But somewhere deep inside I not only wanted to know we were being bad, but I wanted to feel bad too; naughty-bad. I wanted to be punished for my sinful act. If I were to be a mistress, I wanted to be a temptress, a sex kitten, a reason for him to slip out into the night and into something more comfortable—me. It wasn’t enough that we were having sex, I wanted rough sex, passionate sex, an immorally mind-blowing fuck session with this man that I had longed to call my own for so long. A hopeful goal that may, or may not, ever happen. Nevertheless, we could fuck like rabbits in the meantime.
I loved his long strokes and slow rhythm, but my throbbing flower wanted her juices to flow like a river. I knew he could reach my g-spot if I turned over. I loved to lie on my stomach and be penetrated from behind. The curvature of his mammoth craft would slide in deeper and tease my womanly dam, encouraging her to burst. I wanted him to spank me and tell me I was bad for suggesting that we meet tonight. I wanted him to pull my hair and ram his cock into me until it hurt, because it would hurt so damn good.
“Turn me over and fuck me,” I said, revealing my innermost thoughts.
He looked surprised, but extremely turned on. He rolled me over and straddled my thighs. He pulled my ass apart with his warm hands and rubbed his rod down through my cheeks until my blossom opened and swallowed him whole. His fat shank filled my swollen embrace as he squeezed my rotund cheeks together to seal himself in tightly. This made my sweltering pussy taut like a virgin’s hole. The sensation made him thrash and writhe, wanting more although his body was ready to explode.
“Spank me!” I ordered him.
Knelt before my supple mounds engulfing his pleasure stick, he raised his hand and brought it down with a thundering smack. It jiggled my flesh as the sting rippled down my thighs. I moaned in agony and ecstasy.
“Again!”
He was a good listener who plunged deep into my awaiting arroyo with every slap of the ass. I knew the redness of my skin was beginning to match my wayside panties. I loved it! I could tell it was arousing him too. My waterway was about to spill over and come gushing down all over his meaty ramrod. I loved that my scent was saturating his fat shaft, my juices were flowing into his, and that our bodies were melded together in a sinful dance of adulterous ardor.
“Fuck me and tell me I’m bad!” I screamed.
He suddenly possessed a strong urge to cram himself down my carnivorous cave and rock his hips up and down with lightening speed. His fast strokes and deep pumps massaged my internal valve until I was squealing at the top of my lungs.
“Oh! Oh, oh, oh…” is all that escaped my mouth as I tried to hold on and prevent my orgasmic flow from erupting without him.
“You’re bad!” He groaned as he hit my g-spot with a force that broke my dam and sent my cascading river down upon him. “You are so, so bad! Naughty girl.”
I loved how he told me exactly what I was. I knew it. I knew I was sinful, naughty. I knew I was a very bad girl who just marked my territory with the effervescent flow of my vaginal cocktail. My gushing stream wet his whistle and sent him rumbling into a quaking volcano about to erupt. He shook violently as he pulled out and oozed his hot lava onto my back. My pussy throbbed and pulsated, wishing he hadn’t left. I lifted my ass to signal I needed more fulfillment. My vaginal muscles begged to clamp down on him and finish their tremors. He released the last of his hot magma and slid his firm pole back into my sopping chasm where she hugged him tightly one last time. He laid his body on mine and held me.
“I have to go,” he reminded me.
“I know.”
He got up and started to dress himself. I remained on the bed.
“I wish I didn’t have to, though,” he reassured me.
“I know. It’s okay.”
It wasn’t really, but I knew I had signed up for this before I came here tonight. This was going to be complicated. I sighed in both pleasure and despair.
“I’ll see you when I get back,” he mentioned as he tucked his moist member into his trousers and buckled his belt. He leaned over me on the bed and kissed my cheek just before he grabbed his jacket and slipped out the door.
THE END
~~~~~
FATHER FIGURE
I was eighteen at the time and a virgin. Aside from having the over-developed body of a voluptuous Goddess, long red come-hither locks and a sweet pink pucker that screamed fellatio, I was a typical teenage girl. My boyfriend of four years and I had a traditional high school courtship; movie dates and school dances. We had every intention of graduating in the spring, getting engaged and waiting until our wedding night to consummate our love for one another. We both believed in following the order in which traditional standards applied. He seemed to look past the fact that I looked like a Loose Lucy and loved me for being the somewhat shy siren blessed—and albeit, cursed—with the body of a sex kitten.
The holidays were upon us and I had been invited by his family for the first time to join them for their annual Christmas at the lake house. Now that we were adults, they felt we were of age to stay in the same home together, although appropriately so, in separate rooms. I was overjoyed by the invitation as it solidified my acceptance into his family and looked forward to spending the cold winter break in the arms of my beloved along the banks of the icy Great Lake.
It was early morning when we loaded up his parents SUV with our suitcases and presents, and headed north for a day’s drive. The countryside passed by like a smeared painting of snowy white hills and leafless trees for hours on end, and after singing countless Christmas carols to engage us all in the holiday spirit, we pulled into the long, winding drive of their vacation home by nightfall.
The first hour of our arrival was spent unloading the car and assigning everyone to their rooms. Once settled in, we all gathered in the living room. The wind was howling outside and the snow dusted the dock just outside the big bay window overlooking the lake. I sat on my boyfriend’s lap on an upholstered chair near their grand Christmas tree. We all sipped hot cocoa and snuggled under blankets as we shared stories and discussed my boyfriend’s perspective colleges for the following year.
“Speaking of next year,” my boyfriend said, tapping me on the thigh as he slid out from underneath me and stood near the tree. Clearing his throat in nervous anticipation, he continued, “I was rather hoping by then you will be my wife.”
The whole room gasped as he knelt down next to me and pulled a ring from his pocket. I lifted my hands to my face and covered my mouth in shock. My eyes peered back and forth, from him to his family as they all sat across from me awaiting my reply. I looked into my boyfriend’s beautiful brown eyes, sincere and adoring, and then to his mother who was tearing already. I peered over at his father, who nodded in agreement with his stern smirk just before taking a puff of his pipe, and couldn’t help but notice his other hand slid down his house robe and adjusted his manhood.
“Will you marry me?” My boyfriend asked, holding the ring up for me to slip onto my finger.
“Yes!” I answered without hesitation. “Yes, yes, yes!” I assured him over and over again.
He placed the small diamond ring on my dainty finger and we spent the remainder of the evening in celebration.
* * *
The house was quite except for the creaking shutters that resisted the bitter wind outside my second-story bedroom window. It always seemed the wind demonstrated its strength and speed on cloudless nights. The moonlight poured through the blinds onto my comforter, illuminating the outline of my curves underneath. Everyone was asleep except me. I had been tossing and turning for hours, watching the sparkling diamond on my finger catching the moon and casting glares across the ceiling. My heart was racing, as was my mind, and they joined one another for a marathon night of sleepless excitement.
Finally realizing that dancing under the sheets in my restlessness wasn’t going to help me find the slumber I desperately needed, I slid my feet into my slippers and reached for a light sweater hanging on the bedpost. Sliding it over my head, I snuck downstairs wearing only my panties, tank and sweater to forage the kitchen for something to calm my nerves. The house was dark and still as I made my way to the refrigerator.
The bright light cascaded across the floor as I opened the door, lighting my body and casting shadows on the wall. I stood there in my frog slippers as they kept my toes warm from the chill air pouring from the fridge. My legs were not so lucky. Goose bumps slowly erupted, crawling up my legs from my ankles to my supple tender thighs. I could feel the coolness creeping under my panties and continuing up my stomach to my perky little breasts. The thin sweater did little to protect my ripening pink nipples from the temperature change.
“Good evening,” a voice lurked from the darkness behind me.
It was a deep and raspy voice, followed by the scent of tobacco.
Startled, I turned to find my boyfriend’s father standing in the shadows as he stepped through the doorway toward me. As the light from the refrigerator caught his figure I could see him clearly, standing there in his silk robe and pajama pants.
“Uh, hi,” I replied softly, trying to make the best of this awkward situation.
With one hand on the refrigerator door, I attempted to pull my sweater down far enough to cover the lace trim of my briefs and the handful of firm ass that was spilling out of them. Though somewhat successful in hiding my posterior, this effort only accentuated my erect nipples in the spotlight as my sweater pulled tight to my chest. It was a losing battle and I just stood there in stage fright.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I told him, attempting to break the silence and his gawking stare.
The echo of my voice seemed to linger for minutes. I felt embarrassed, yet somewhat intrigued. Why wasn’t he saying anything? He was a handsome and dapper man, distinguished and refined. He was stern in his expressions and mannerisms, seemingly aged by years of success and family. I had often wondered how my sweet and spontaneous boyfriend had come from him. They were nothing alike in personality, although they resembled each other in features and drive.
“It happens,” he said. I could almost see him grinning as he spoke.
I opened the door a little wider, curious to get a better look at him in the dimly lit kitchen. His hazel eyes were piercing as he looked me over. The ends of his mouth turned up slightly as he fiddled with his hands inside his robe pockets. I was overcome by fear and strangely turned on at the same time. I could see a softer side to him shining through; perhaps remnants of his youth when he was a bit more like his son. I became uncomfortable with my thoughts as I found myself remembering how my panties had become saturated earlier that evening when I watched him grope himself. I was ashamed that I was having a sexual reaction to my boyfriend’s father.
Feeling that tingling sensation in my underwear again, I quickly closed the refrigerator door and hurled my red tresses around to make my way in the dark for a swift escape back to my bedroom. It was too late. Somewhere between the fleeing light and darkness, he had quietly approached and now I was face to face with him.
“I thought you were hungry,” he muttered, half chuckling in a sly and deviant way.
“I am…I mean, I was,” I stuttered as I tried to make my way around him.
He stood there like a solid barricade of manly seduction, smelling like musk and sweet tobacco. My defenses were weakening and I needed to leave immediately. I had never had thoughts like the ones racing through my mind at that moment. Even in the four years with my boyfriend I had been rather apprehensive about consummating our marriage. The fears of a virgin greatly out-weigh the excitement. But something else was happening to me now. When I gazed into his father’s deep hazel eyes, I saw a man. My hormones recognized the difference between a boy and his father. My femininity waged a war inside of me at that moment as my body yearned for the masculine touch of wisdom and experience over youth and naivety. My body was being bad; very bad. I had to get out of there.
As I stepped to the side to squeeze past him, he turned and my breasts grazed his chest. The soft touch of another’s body rubbing slightly against my pert pink nipples sent chills crawling over my receding goose bumps. I moaned under my breath and I felt his fingers touch the ends of my red curls just over my shoulder.
“I used to have a girl like you,” he whispered, releasing his tender grip on my hair and letting it fall back down my back.
“Pardon?” I asked, though I heard him, and paused in my haste.
“Beautiful,” he continued, turning to face me again.
A tenderness came over him and his stern brow softened. I could see him reminiscing behind his gaze. There was a passion inside him that was begging to escape.
“And vivacious,” he slowly began revealing.
He caught me in a mesmerizing glance and I fell into his memories with him. Inching closer to him as he spoke in only adjectives, half describing a lost lover and half complimenting me.
“Sensual.” He kept going.
The air between us began to feel magnetic as he was pulling me in against my will. His words and breath were sweet and intoxicating. My lips were pleading to share them in the closest of proximities. He gently reached up and slipped his hand underneath my ear, slithering his fingers under my hair and holding the back of my neck. His stare never broke as our mouths gravitated toward one another.
“Sexy,” he whispered.
It was the last word he spoke before he pressed his tight lips against my plump pout. There was a momentary pause of blissful victory before he slowly retreated and licked my essence from his lips.
“Sorry,” he conceded.
I had nothing to say. I wasn’t sorry at all.
“I shouldn’t have…” he started, but I interrupted him as I went in for another long-winded kiss.
He snaked his hands around my waist and pulled my beseeching body against his. Our kiss quickly transitioned into fervent lust as I craved the flavor of his tongue. He parted his lips slightly to catch his breath and I slithered inside to taste him. He made love to my wet mouth, smearing my lips from one side to the other across his face. I wasted no time letting him know that my mouth was not the only moist haven I harbored. Guiding his hand over my curvaceous hip, I introduced him to my taut and youthful bottom and encouraged him to grip it with his strong fingers. My panties bunched under his fingertips as he clinched me tight. I further guided him to extend his reach around my backside for a more intimate handful as his fingers slipped between my ass cheeks and felt the soaking warmth of my crease.
“Mmm,” he groaned.
No man had ever touched me there before. My femininity blossomed under his touch and my floral essence was seeping from my tight crevice. I could feel my tender kitten throbbing and swelling inside my panties. I had never experienced such lustful, yearning feelings. The maturing of his manhood pressed against my pelvis was making me tingle with uncontrollable urges. I had fantasized about what he kept hidden under his robe earlier in the night and now my curiosity was killing me.
Taking the lead like a gentleman and realizing that I was a novice in the acts of seduction and sex, he pulled his ripening erection from his pajama pants and grabbed my hand. He placed his plump head in the palm of my hand and guided my fingers down his shaft to feel its firm and smooth shape. It made me feel naughty. I was pretty sure it made him feel the same. Nowhere in our moments of taboo temptation were thoughts of his son. I never had feelings about him like this. There was something about this lascivious affair that tantalized my libido and made me quiver in places I had not yet explored.
I stroked his father’s maturing cock gently and awkwardly. I felt him salivating under my fingertips. His hands wandered southward as he gripped my hips and slowly turned me around to face the kitchen island. Pushing my shoulders forward, he bent me over the counter. He never said a word, but I could hear him breathing heavily as he pulled my panties to the side and slid his fingers between my sweet swollen pinkness. His manly fore and middle fingers slithered inside my moistening ravine as I moaned and shivered in ecstasy.
“Shhh…” he whispered in my ear as he leaned forward into me.
Prompting me to spread my legs, he held me open with his fingers as he slid the plump tip of his penis past my stretched-aside panties, between my rotund cheeks and toward my virgin pussy. I was dripping with anticipation and scared. He held his shaft firmly as he circled and pet my timid kitten with his moist head. The pleasurable sensation of his soft skin massaging my pure and untainted bloom allowed me to relax into him as he gently penetrated my yearning canal.
I could feel him inching into my tense virginal sheath as I welcomed him inside my swollen embrace. He was a gentle, yet passionate giant, wrapping his arm around me and clinching my neck from the front as he shoved himself inside me from behind. The intensity of his shaft filling my trembling walls hurt so good. My soaking nectar glossed his lecherous rod on its journey to reach the depths of my womanhood. He slowly pushed the last bit of his hardy muscle inside my tender grip, making me squeal with both pleasure and pain. I clenched his boner tightly as I shuttered. My body suddenly tingled with tremors and clamped down upon him with forceful invigoration. Waves of emotion and floral juices came cascading down my pink passage, engulfing his erection in my river of lust.