The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 19: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women Read online

  Dean walked over and kissed her passionately on the mouth, delivering a cup of coffee, made just the way she liked it. She smiled, lifting the cup to her lips. “Mmmmmm,” she said. “This is wonderful.” She looked up into his green eyes. “But not as wonderful as you were last night.”

  He smiled and reached behind him on the counter, presenting her with the other envelope. “Well,” he said. “I can’t wait to see what you make of this, babe.” He kissed her again, then sauntered out for a shower. Shanna watched him walking away, her eyes lingering on his tight ass beneath the soft, cotton pajama bottoms. A shiver went through her as she thought about his hands on her the previous evening, the way he moved in her, the feeling of the hot water pulsing against her open pussy.

  She shivered, wetness growing between her legs. She thought about rushing into the bathroom, joining him in the shower, but looking at the clock knew he had to be getting ready for work — and they were both already a little weary from their late night frolic.

  Shanna gently tore the envelope open. Inside on the little card she had provided, Dean had written MOTIONLESS, WICKED, INNOCENT. “Well,” she said to herself, looking at the words. “I certainly have my work cut out for me.”

  ***

  It was Friday night, and Dean was running a little late after work. Shanna paced nervously, her stiletto heels click-clacking on the tile floor. She went to the mirror in the foyer, giving herself one last cursory glance.

  She cupped her naked breasts, held high by the black, leather bustier, smoothed her hands down her tiny waist and curvy hips. Her long nails were painted blood red, and she had on long, black and silver false eyelashes and hot red lipstick.

  Her dark hair fell to the middle of her back and was tousled. She was wearing a sweeping black skirt, slit up the front, giving a view of her furry muff. Her legs were encased in black, net stockings with garters. Atop her head was a sassy, little witch’s hat. She looked wicked, indeed.

  Suddenly, she heard Dean’s key in the lock. She took her stance in the hall, facing the door, and as he walked in, he beheld her standing there, legs spread and hands on her hips, glaring at him. In her hand she held a silver and white swirled, blown glass wand about eight inches long. She held it out, pointing it at him. “How dare you make me wait!” she hissed.

  Dean’s eyes were wide with surprise, taking in Shanna’s costume and demeanor. He slowly set his briefcase on the floor and closed the door behind him, not taking his gaze from her. His eyes traveled over her body, her breasts, her exposed pussy, her long legs. He licked his lips.

  “Lock the door,” Shanna said, her voice low and deadly. Dean turned obediently and locked the door. Shanna stepped slowly to the side table in the foyer, her hips undulating as she walked in the stiletto heels. At the side table, she poured deep, red wine into a glass. She walked over to Dean, staring into his eyes. She stood close to him.

  “You are bold, coming into my dwelling,” she said, a smile on her lips. “Let me give you a glass of wine for your trouble.”

  Dean loosened his tie. “I would not drink your poison, witch!” he said, playing along.

  Shanna reached down and ran her long nails up his thigh, raking them teasingly over his growing erection. “Oh, I think you will,” she said. “I think you will do everything I wish!”

  “Do not molest me, witch!” he said, drawing himself up. “For I am a holy man, and chaste!”

  “Mmmmmm,” Shanna purred. “An innocent.” She leaned forward and nibbled his neck. She placed the glass in his hand. “Drink, innocent!” She stepped back and pointed the wand at him. “Drink!”

  Dean’s eyes became glassy. He raised the glass to his lips. “Yes, Mistress,” he said. His lips were red with the wine. Shanna licked the wine from his mouth and kissed him deeply. “Remove your clothing!” she ordered.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Shanna turned and walked away from him. She sat in a chair at the end of the foyer hall. She slowly opened her legs, exposing her pink flower. Dean had removed his tie and shirt and dropped them at the door. He was staring down the hall, taking in Shanna’s long legs, her open pussy.

  He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his slacks, then slid them slowly down, his already stiff cock popping up out of them and pointing at the ceiling. He bent and removed his stockings and shoes, standing stark naked before her.

  Shanna nodded appreciatively. “I seen you’ve brought a wand of your own,” she said. “Let us see how powerful it is.” She crooked her finger. “Come to me, innocent!” she said. “You are powerless! Unable to move unless I allow it!”

  “Yes... Mistress,” Dean sighed as Shanna wrapped her red, red lips around the head of his cock, sucking the glans into her mouth, running her tongue around the ridge of the head. Dean’s legs quivered.

  Shanna pushed her mouth over his cock, taking as much as she could, the head at the back of her throat, she made swallowing motions, engulfing the head, making Dean moan with pleasure. Suddenly, she stopped, standing before him. “Walk,” she said, pushing him toward the dining room.

  Shanna had removed all the chairs from around the table earlier that day. There was a long silk scarf tied to the top of each table leg. “Lie down!” she commanded.

  A slight smile played around Dean’s lips as he sat on the table, then he controlled himself and concentrated on looking frightened, controlled. Shanna held the glass wand out. “You are powerless!” she told him. “I’ve cast my spell upon you!”

  “Yes, Mistress,” he said, lying on the table, his considerable erection poking up like a baton.

  Shanna slid the wand between her breasts and began walking around the table and tying Dean’s arms and legs to the table legs. She leaned over, her hot breath in his ear. “And now I shall do wicked things to you, my dear!”

  “Please spare me!” Dean begged. “For I am a holy man who has never given myself to the pleasures of the flesh!”

  “Silence!” Shanna demanded. “There is no mercy for one who walks so boldly into my dwelling!” She flicked her tongue in his ear, and stood at his head. She began running her hands over his chest, her pussy so close to his head that he could smell her musk. Beneath her hands, his nipples tensed. Shanna chuckled and teased them with her long nails. Dean shivered, his cock quivering. “Do you like that, my innocent?” she whispered.

  “No! Please – stop,” Dean said with considerable effort.

  Shanna then grasped both nipples, pinching and rolling them between her fingers the way Dean did to her. Just doing it to him made her nipples hard. She leaned over him, rubbing the tough, little nubs over his face, where his five o’clock shadow brushed them roughly.

  “Suck!” she demanded, and Dean opened his mouth and took one nipple between his lips, rolling it on his tongue, teasing it with his teeth. Shanna sighed, reaching up to roll her other nipple between her fingers, pressing her muff on Dean’s shaggy head of hair, rubbing against him. She could feel her honey begin to flow, making her moist and slippery.

  She climbed on the table then, straddling him, her pussy hot and open, her deep pink flower revealed to him. She could see him staring, and she smiled and reached down, opening herself with her hands, spreading her lips wide, the shining flesh, the opening, the tiny bud so close, her juices making her shine.

  She reached down and began to touch herself, rubbing one finger up and down the slit, lingering on her clit, the little mushroom-like head rearing up at her touch, poking out. She began to breath harder as she pleasured herself before him, torturing him with it, making him watch as her fingers slid up inside, coming out wet and dripping with her cum.

  “Please, Mistress!” he breathed, finally.

  Shanna arched an eyebrow. “What do you want, innocent?” She stared into his eyes.

  “Please,” he said. “Please- a taste?”

  Shanna smiled, moving up over his face. She lowered herself slightly, just close enough for the tip of his tongue to flick at her sweet flesh. She felt it move ove
r her and shuddered with pleasure. She lowered herself a bit more, and Dean raised his head, engulfing her with his mouth, his tongue suddenly everywhere, sliding up into her, surrounding her clit, sucking, licking, biting. Shanna moaned, getting caught up in the moment, then reeled, pulling herself up and back.

  She jumped from the table, facing Dean and pointing at him. His face was wet with her honey. “You have tried to bewitch me!” she accused. “You are not so innocent after all!”

  Dean just smiled, his eyes glittering.

  “For that you will pay!” Shanna hissed, and with that slid down, straddling his hips, she opened her legs affording him another fine look at her wet, shining flower. She slowly slid the glass wand inside herself, warming and wetting it.

  “Now, I will show you some of my – magic, “ she said. “The magic of pleasure — and pain.” She flipped around, her back to him and impaled herself on his glorious cock. Then she leaned over and teased his balls with her fingernails, causing Dean to shiver with pleasure. Suddenly, the tip of the glass wand was at the opening of his ass. It was warm from her pussy, and wet.

  She inserted it just a little, and Dean gasped. Shanna chuckled and slowly inserted the wand a bit further, slowly fucking him with the wand until he began to moan, his cock growing amazingly harder inside her. She pleasured him with the wand, the slick, hot glass moving in and out of him. When his breathing became ragged, she pulled it from him, stopping all movement until he calmed.

  She began rocking furiously, using him shamelessly for her own pleasure. It was as if he was nothing more than that, a cock, an implement to be used. She ignored his groans of delight, his labored breathing, she simply rode on him, his thick shaft sliding in and out of her, altering tempo and depth as she desired.

  Beneath her furious fucking, Dean was immobile, tied to the table, unable to even buck beneath her to meet her as she pushed herself on him, for when he moved his hips, the restraints she’d tied so tightly bit painfully into his wrists.

  She came down upon him again and again, until finally her hot, wet pussy began to clench and throb in the throes of orgasm and she made one final thrust, pushing herself down tightly on him, and he cried out, his own cock stiffening even more, quivering, spurting, their honey mixing together and spilling, wetting them both.

  ***

  Shanna woke late. The morning sun was shining through the open windows, and outside the sound of birdsong sweetened the air. She stretched beneath the soft sheets, smiling at the pleasant, after-sex ache in her muscles. She reached over, running her hand over the empty side of the bed where Dean had slept. She missed him already. It was unbelievable how much things had changed for the better between them in such a short time.

  She had to pat herself on the back for thinking of the little word game. She slipped a silk robe over her nude form and padded to the kitchen, the smell of coffee enticing and heady. Dean had already left for work.

  She sighed a little, wishing he’d woken her after their night of passion, for a goodbye kiss. Ah, well, she thought, there’s certainly enough time for that tonight! She smiled, thinking how exciting the recent encounters with Dean had been. Certainly a change for the better. She wondered how long it could last.

  Entering the kitchen, she spied a familiar white envelope leaning up against a clean coffee cup near the coffee maker. Smiling, she picked it up and slit it open. Inside was a white card that read: BLINDFOLD, HONEY, LEATHER.

  ***

  [Hope you liked the story and don't forget your 8 complimentary books, which you may find a download link to on the last page of this collection, just after the 11th story ends. Now, on to the next story!]

  Riding the Wave

  by

  Andrea Dunn

  What a wonderful feeling, she thought to herself as she started to come out of an unintended nap. She’d caught herself in the most erotic dream—her husband of one day slowly teasing her clit with his tongue. It was so real she could almost feel his hot breath on her.

  She stirred and inadvertently twisted a bit, almost as if to stretch. She felt her leg hit something hard and suddenly became alert. Through slits she could see her husband Andy, or at least the top of his head as it slowly moved over her sex.

  “Careful there,” he said, only pausing momentarily, “And good morning, Ann. Or should I say, Mrs. Johansen!”

  “Actually,” she said, “It is almost time for dinner, and I was having the hottest dream.”

  “We have time, I think,” he said, giving her clit a loving tug with his teeth.

  “But we will miss our seating for dinner, love,” she said, trying to close her legs to dissuade him.

  “Cruises are in business to feed you. If we miss the seating we can get room service.”

  That did it, she thought. “How about you save that thought for after our dinner,” she replied, “I want to experience every part of this ship. And I can make it worth your while, if you catch my drift.”

  “Caught and caught,” he said with a sly grin. “It would be bad form to miss our first official honeymoon dinner, wouldn’t it? Though if you hadn’t fallen asleep while I was in the shower we could have had our cake and eaten it too.”

  Ann smiled to herself as Andy got up and went to the small bathroom to splash some water over his face. The funny part—and Andy always made her laugh—was that he had his boxers and undershirt already on. If he had really planned on a little sex on the seven seas he’d have already been naked before he slipped his tongue over her. Men were such silly boys—easily found out for the most part.

  She rolled over and off the bed, which took up almost their complete cabin outside of the little hallway which separated the closet and bathroom, both of which were equally cramped. She felt a slight pang of remorse for those who hadn’t upgraded to a ‘deluxe’ cabin as they had. As it could not be much smaller, she assumed comically that perhaps it didn’t have a bed.

  As she began dressing her thoughts turned to the honeymoon. In itself it would be a great adventure. Sailing from Miami to San Juan, Nassau, and even the cruise line’s private island getaway would be a treat as Ann’s only out of the country escapade was a trip to Tijuana in college. More exciting than the destinations on their seven night cruise was what it signaled. The beginning—officially anyway—of her life with Andy.

  As she saw Andy put on his dinner jacket and shoot his cuffs she wondered how many other women would give him the once over. He was surely a catch and if truth be told perhaps a bit out of her league, though Andy had always turned that around on her, and perhaps with more than a little truth.

  She’d never shared it with him, but seeing other sexy women check out her man gave her more than a slight tingle down below. More than anything she trusted Andy and always would. He was coming home to her bed tonight and every night on out.

  She pulled the sheer black sheath dress down and let it flow over her hips and thighs, enjoying the feel of the fabric on her smooth skin. Although she usually thought sheath dresses unflattering, this one was a bit different and didn’t bulk up over her waist. And Andy adored her in it, making her think it was a great way to start the trip.

  She rooted around in her bag for the silk stockings she’d packed. Starting to put them on, she hesitated and suddenly thought they were not that stylish and definitely not that tropical given their current location.

  She balled them up and tossed them in one of the side compartments of her bag, thinking the sheerness of her taught legs would work well enough. After sliding into some black pumps with a modest four inch—but wide—heel, she was ready for her first official dinner outside of the wedding reception as Andy’s bride.

  As usual he was ready before her but was tactful enough to pretend to be finishing up so as not to appear to rush her. Seeing she was ready, he turned and beamed at her.

  “Wow,” he sighed, “Somebody is going to be a very lucky man tonight.” He offered his arm to her as he opened the door.

  “It could be you, th
ough the jury is still out,” she replied taking his arm, but then releasing it.

  “Something wrong?” he inquired.

  “Yes,” she said in the most mock serious tone she could muster. “There is no way we can get out of that door together if I am on your arm.”

  “It’s the idea that counts, love,” he said, barely able to restrain a chuckle, “Just take my hand then.”

  After that they made their way up to the dining room. Actually one of three, but this was the one they had been assigned to for their first evening’s dinner.