Virgil watched amazed as Cassie, balanced on the balls of her feet and ready for whatever came next, as Cassie flirtatiously tossed her hair and smiled at the drunken monster. “Of course not sugar,” she said, “you’re bigger and stronger than both of us.” The drunk staggered and looked confused. “Well, what’re you gonna do?” he asked, “I told ya I ain’t goin ta jail.” “Well,” Cassie said, batting her eyes at the drunk, “I’m going to ask you to pretty please put your hands behind your back so I can put the cuffs on. And when you don’t, I’m going to shoot you.” She walked one step closer and put her left finger on his chest, right over his heart, “right there.” The drunk looked at her in disbelief, then his eyes went to Virgil. “Don’t look at me,” Virgil said, I don’t even have a gun. The drunk grunted and turned his back to them, hands peacefully crossed behind him.
At shift change, they decided to have a beer together before going home. Virgil was still stunned by what he had learned today. “After you do this for a while” Steve said as he sipped beer from a frosty mug, “you’d rather work with a female cop. He looked around guiltily, as if to see if one of the younger bluesuits in the bar had heard him. “They’d rather talk than fight, and when they pull their guns, people believe they’re going to use them.”
Cassie smiled, but she was watching Virgil. He had been ready to go for the big guy this afternoon, but he’d been patient as well, allowing her to handle the situation. That she knew she was perfectly capable of handling it was not an issue; what was remarkable was that Virgil had trusted her to know what she was doing instead of responding to the macho bluster of the big guy. This man was working some kind of magic deep inside her. She squeezed her thighs together trying to hold back the heat.
He held her hand as he walked her to her car. Nightfall had begun, and the other guys from the shift had fairly depleted the parking lot. She leaned back against her car and put her arms around him, not wanting to be seen, but not really caring either. Her heart thudding in her chest, she raised her lips to his and pulled him closer. She closed her eyes as his lips touched hers gently, nibbling lightly at her lower lip. He sucked it into his mouth as she moaned, letting go as she felt his hardness against her belly. Her hips moved against him, rubbing against the length of his cock. The kiss seemed to go on forever, but his patience did also. She felt his hands under the windbreaker she wore in summer to hide her off duty gun. Sighing into his mouth, she willed his hands to move from her back. Her breasts ached to fill his questing hands, but he moved slowly anyway, rubbing his thumbs against the hard, flat surface of her belly. She made herself slide down, feeling his thumbs at the underside of her breasts, her nipples thrusting against the thin fabric of her sports bra and showing clearly through her tee shirt.
He made no attempt to hurry, still kissing her thoroughly. His lips touched her throat and traced a path up to her ears. “Dammnit” she whispered harshly in his ears, “what do I have to do, rip your clothes off and rape you in the parking lot?” She gasped as he leaned into her, rubbing the tip of his hardness between her parted legs. His hands, hidden by the windbreaker, moved to her firm breasts, thumbs rubbing her nipples.
“I have to teach a class tonight in about twenty minutes” he said. “This has been a long time coming, and I won’t settle for a quick fuck and a shy goodbye.” His mouth came back to hers as he continued to push his swollen cock against the damp spot on her jeans, her legs parting more and her breath coming in short gasps. “When we finally make love, I want to savor every inch of you. I want you naked on clean, sweet smelling sheets with your hair spread over your pillow. I want enough light to see you in all your glory. And I want more than anything to see you wanton. Just you, me, and the night.” Her hips jerked against him as she came, shuddering in his arms, her hands clenched tightly against his chest.
“No one has ever talked me into an orgasm before” she told him. “Bastard.” She nestled in his arms, feeling warm and safe as she had never before been in her life. He laughed low, and deep in his chest. “Tomorrow night?” he asked softly. “No” she told him, “come over after your class tonight.”
She took a long soak, doing her nails, her toes, shaving her legs, and on a whim, her pubic hair. She put fresh sheets on her bed and put every candle in her house in her bedroom. She opened her windows wide and let the cool breeze freshen everything naturally. She had hunted the wine store over until she found a bottle of 1996 William Fevre Chablis Les Clos, which she had heard was one of the best; it was open and breathing in the kitchen. A tray of cheeses, breads, and fruit sat beside it. Everything she could think she had done to make the evening perfect for them. She had even resurrected an old stereo album that her parents had loved on hot summer nights when they thought she was asleep. It was by some group called the Mystic Moods Orchestra, and it began with the sound of a rain shower. She smiled as she remembered the sound of the rhythmic banging of their headboard against the wall. At the time she was a bit repulsed that her parents were still “doing it” but she now knew they had been very much in love.
Virgil knocked softly at the door at nearly nine o’clock. She literally floated to the door and met him wearing only a filmy peignoir straight out of some adolescent boy’s wet dreams. It hid nothing, but it felt incredibly soft and made her look insanely erotic. She led him to the bath without a word, and slowly took off his clothes piece by piece. When she reached a new piece of bare skin, she kissed it softly and gently. When she had him fully nude, she knelt and mouthed his penis just enough to leave it quivering in the air. She stood and helped him to sit in the tub. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He tried to speak once but she shook her head…no talking. She gently and thoroughly washed him with a thick loufa sponge and dried him with a warm fluffy white towel and led him to the bed.
She turned off the lights, leaving the room aglow with the light from the many candles. She knelt on the bed and put her hands to the tie that held her peignoir together and then shrugged her shoulders. He lay on the bed staring up at her as if she were an angel, and tonight, for him and him alone, she was. She put her hands on the bed, leaving her on all fours. He reached for her breasts and tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down with just one finger, again shaking her head no.
She climbed over him on all fours, her shoulder length dark curly hair framing her face as she looked into his eyes. He whispered “I’ve been waiting for this.” She bent to kiss his lips, loving the taste and texture of them. She whispered against them “Do you have any idea how many times I have laid in this bed and masturbated thinking about this night?” she asked. He stared at her stupefied. She licked his chin playfully, “Do you know how many times I’ve cum when you touched me, or after we’ve been together?” She sucked at his neck. “Do you know how many times I have wanted you to tear my clothes off and fuck me even when there were people all around us?” Her tongue circled one of his nipples. “I have been in a perpetual state of horniness since the night we talked in the bar.” Her tongue traced a wet line down to his navel. Every time I change clothes, every time I am alone in my car I stick my fingers in my pussy and wish it was you.” “I even came rubbing up against the washing machine when I was doing the laundry last weekend. I’ve become obsessed with making love to you” she said. “And tonight I’m going to make you pay!” Her head swooped down and engulfed his swollen cock.
It was erotic and it was fun. She kept her eyes on his face as she licked and tickled. She sucked his balls into her mouth and slowly let them out again. She lifted the heavy sack, cupping his balls in her hand as she licked the seam all the way down between his legs where the seam started. She licked his belly while his jutting penis batted against her cheek. She halted her oral exploration occasionally to suck his hard cock into her mouth, taking him in as deep as her mouth would allow, damning the gag reflex that kept her from swallowing into her throat.
Over and over he reached for her, wanting to touch and taste her, but she insistently pushed him back, telling hi
m his time would come. Her pussy was on fire, but she kept her hands on him. When it got to be too much for her, she spread her legs over one of his and gently rubbed her clit on his bare skin. She came twice like that, stifling her cries by stuffing his dick into her mouth. She had him trembling on the bed, his cock aching for her. She froze over him, her hot breath on the sensitive skin of his cock. She felt the trembling in him begin, and saw his ball sack start to hitch up and down. She blew lightly on the head of it and the cock began to jump as if it were being lifted in the air by an unseen hand. His cum began boiling out of the slit in the end, and she quickly capped it with her sucking mouth. She swallowed hard, pulling more of the sticky white stuff into her mouth. She kept it inside until it stopped jumping and his ball sack settled down. When he was through cumming, she let the softening cock fall from her lips. She stood quickly and brought the cheese tray to the bed and two stems of wine. She helped him to drink, he looked as if he’d just completed a marathon in summer heat. He tried to talk once more, but she quickly shoved a strawberry into his mouth, and handed him a piece of cheese to nibble. “You’re going to need your strength” she whispered to him. “That was for me as much as it was for you.” She reached under the bed and came up with a handful of silk scarves. “I can’t stay that still when you do that for me, you’re going to have to tie me down!”
By Danica Williams
Copyright © 2012 Danica Williams
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit content and is intended for a mature audience only.
All persons portrayed in this book are over 18 years of age.
Sharon Wiggins had been widowed for almost two years. Her husband Tim had left her, and four teenaged children unexpectedly alone after a terrible car accident. Faced with raising four teens alone, Sharon submerged herself in doing the job as best she could alone. She worked a second job, kept her house clean, and spent as much time with her children as she could.
Nights were the worst time for her. Tim had been her world, she’d never been with another man. Sharon had adored the feel of his hands on her body, and he had been a very physical man. He was always caressing her, always kissing her, there had never been a day in their life that wasn’t dominated by his touch. Late at night when she couldn’t sleep she missed the feel of him most. She could close her eyes and feel his hands on her breasts, her thighs, on her belly. She would shiver as she remembered his hard penis straining against her. She longed to once again be able to take it in her mouth. She hadn’t really cared for that, but it really didn’t bother her either…and she knew Tim loved it. Once she had even kept her mouth on him when he came. The taste was kind of salty and bland, like cream of tartar. Often she could stand it no longer, her hands seeking out the secret places Tim had known so well. She always came, but she always felt a little ashamed.
Sharon had experienced the worst sort of day. She was late for her first job because the car broke down. When she left to go to her second job it was raining, and she had worked soaking wet for several hours…and to make it worse she was certain her pervert of a boss had been staring at her breasts beneath her rain-soaked blouse. She dropped an empty platter taking it to the kitchen and it broke. She had been given the platter by Tim’s mother after they were married. The stress of working two jobs, maintaining a home, and caring for four teenagers had been building since Tim’s death and she simply sat on the floor in the middle of shattered bits of porcelain and began to cry. Her oldest daughter Kate, helping with the dishes, had rushed to her and held her, knowing she didn’t have the words her mother needed to hear.
“We’ve got to do something nice for Mom, she’s wearing pretty thin” Kate said to her siblings. Donna, the next oldest nodded her agreement. Ashley, the youngest daughter, screwed up her face in concentration “What could we do for her that she won’t do for herself?” “She needs to get laid” twelve year old Thomas said laconically. The girls stared at him in shock, and then rushed him as a group. “How could you say such a thing” Donna hissed at him as she slapped at the back of his head, “ Mom would whack you if she heard you even talking like that!” “She doesn’t even date” Thomas said, “she doesn’t have any friends, and she’s jumpy as a cat.” The girls remained a bit huffy as they turned to ignore their brother, but somewhere in Kate’s brain a little light bulb had come on.
“Come on, Mom, you have to do this, it’s all arranged” Kate said, “ You don’t even have to drive down to the Spa. We’re all going to see that new movie we’ve been waiting for. All you have to do is stay home and have a nice quiet soak, and relax. You get a massage from a professional right in your own home, and don’t have any of the hassle of going out! Besides, we got a special two for one deal and we can’t get our money back!” Sharon closed her eyes and imagined it, a whole evening to herself. She could light aromatic candles and take an hour long soak in her favorite jasmine scented bubble bath. She would meet Brunhilde the Bold or some similarly muscled woman at the door in her robe, and be treated to a royal massage. She smiled sweetly at her eldest child. “Thank you” she said, “just be careful at the theater, you’re old enough to know how boys are.” Kate kissed her mother on the cheek and wisely kept her silence.
Sharon sighed as she sifted through the bubbles in the tub, making designs in them, but carefully avoiding touching her most sensitive areas. Thoughts of Tim and her in this same tub came flooding back unbidden, and though she had finally come to terms with the reality of his death, she still missed the feel of his hands on her. “You’d better stop” she thought to herself, “you don’t want Brunhilde to find you all sticky when you get your massage.” Blushing at her own thoughts, she almost didn’t hear the doorbell ring.
She opened the door and said “Come in…” but the rest of the sentence died in her throat. She had expected some Viking of a woman, but somehow they must have gotten it all wrong. “Hi Ma’am, my name is Brian and I’m here for your massage.” He asked where she wanted him to set up, and she reluctantly told him. She was too embarrassed to even argue with him. She knew she should tell him to go back and send whatever version of Brunhilde they had on duty, but she couldn’t. This man was beautiful! He was very tall, with curly black hair and sea green eyes. His face was sharp featured and tan, and he had bright white teeth covered by full sensuous lips. His hard muscles rippled through the skin tight white tee shirt he wore, and he had a firm muscled butt covered with tight white pants. She began to blush furiously. The images racing through her head had absolutely no place in her life. She was resolved to remain chaste in memory of Tim and as an example to her children. She managed to regain some semblance of her dignity and decided to treat this experience for what it was, a pleasant gift she had received from her children. Nothing more.
He’d set up his wide sturdy table in the living room as she’d instructed. He handed her a fluffy white towel to cover herself with and had turned modestly to face the wall as she removed her terry cloth robe and wrapped the towel around her. She lay back on the table and ordered herself to relax. It was just a professional massage and nothing else.
Brian asked her if she preferred sandalwood or jasmine oil, as he had brought both. She selected the jasmine in a businesslike manner, unable to summon an imperious manner. After all, she was lying almost naked in her deserted home about to have her body massaged by an Adonis years younger than she was. Her blush returned. Brian poured the oil over his hands and rubbed them in his best professional manner. He was going to have to be very careful with this customer. Most of the housewives he worked for were very flirtatious, and many of them were pretty free with their hands as he worked. This one seemed to be sort of shy, and he didn’t need any complaints…but she was really pretty.
He began as always, with her hands. He rubbed them softly and thoroughly, paying attention to the taut muscles under her thumbs. Sharon marveled at the release of tension f
rom muscles she never consciously thought about. His hands travelled slowly up her arms, leaving a tingly warmth in their wake, along with blissful relaxation. Sharon forgot about her almost nudity and gave herself up to the experience. This had been a great idea! His hands stopped at her shoulders and moved down to begin at her toes. He found more tense muscles that she never thought about, but the relaxation he induced was incredible. She moaned with pleasure. Brian kept up a steady stream of soft chatter, practiced to lull his more nervous clients. Her moan of pleasure caught his attention and he looked up at her closed eyes. The blush she had on her face earlier had been replaced by a hot flush, and her face wore a big smile. He doubted that she realized it, but her body had shifted involuntarily to give him greater access to her feet, and her legs had spread wide enough to allow him a glance at the shadowed blonde bush between her legs.
He leaned forward quickly to hide the hard on forming in his tight white pants. Sharon’s tongue was poking out through her lips, and her breathing was a bit uneven. He massaged her ankles, calves and knees, and her legs widened further. His strong hands kneaded the muscles of her thighs, and as he kneaded higher, her legs opened far enough that the towel began to part, exposing more of her slender body to his eyes. His face was very near her barely covered pelvis, and her hips had begun to move very slightly beneath the towel.
Sharon could feel his hot breath on her skin beneath the towel. She was aware that the towel had exposed more of her than she wanted to show, but she was unable to refuse the sensations running through her belly. She was mortified…she knew she should cover herself, maybe ask for a drink and cool down a bit. She couldn’t bring herself to stop him, she wanted him to see the moisture forming between the lips of her pussy. She wanted to feel his hands reach beneath the towel and touch her in places only Tim had touched. She was shocked.
15 Erotic Stories BUNDLE: Huge Collection of Individually Sold Short Sex Stories Page 22