101 EROTICA STORIES

by Green, Vallen

  Agreeing upon watching movies didn’t go as planned when they both came to find out that there wasn’t anything good on TV, nor were they able to agree on which DVD to pop in. Instead, the two settled on the couch making snarky remarks as they suffered through Twilight.

  “Well that wasn’t so bad,” Alana mused as the end credits rolled.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Chris asked, quirking an eyebrow.

  “After my third glass of wine, I wasn’t as bothered,” she replied, her eyes falling to the empty glass in her hand.

  He chuckled as he picked up the bottle of Merlot they had cracked open, emptying the contents into their glasses. “Wow,” he said. “We went through that one quick. I guess drinking was something you picked up in Italy too, huh?”

  “Man,” she gushed. “Some places serve wine for breakfast!”

  “In that case, I propose a toast,” he paused. “To the wine that helped make a bad movie night tolerable.”

  “Hey, I take offense to that. My company should have been enough to make this night great.”

  Chris raised his hands in mock surrender before agreeing that it had been great being able to spend time with her. Alana had always been great company. She was funny and smart, someone he was comfortable to hang out with, and not to mention beautiful.

  “So what do we do now?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “Just talk I guess. We do have 4 years to catch up on. And hey,” she said, slapping at his arm. “You’ve been grilling me about everything when you’ve barely shared anything. I think it’s your turn to divulge.”

  “What’s there to tell?” he asked in response. “When I ended up getting a permanent job working for your dad, I dove right in. I love my job and I’m good at what I do. That’s pretty much it.”

  “Not only is that boring but that’s also pretty sad,” she mused.

  “Why is it sad?” he asked, completely confused. “I just told you that I love what I’m doing. How many people can genuinely say that?”

  Alana heaved a sigh, feeling a hint of sadness not just for how naïve Chris was in saying what he had but also because of how big a parallel it was to her dad. “You’re still a young man, you know?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means there’s so much out there more than a job and a career,” she explained. “People to meet, places to see. As your friend, I’d hate it if you missed out on that because you’re just so into your work.”

  “But you said it yourself, I’m still young,” he argued. “I have time. Maybe when I’ve saved up enough I can go to where I wanna go. But right now, I’m cool where I am.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

  Her somber tone struck a nerve, the realization dawning on him that she was thinking about her dad and comparing them against each other. She knew that he had figured it out too, judging by the wistful smile she sent his way. Not knowing what else to say, he put his wine glass on the coffee table, plucking hers from her grip to join his. He opened his arms out, “Come here,” he said.

  Alana didn’t hesitate to scoot closer and fall into his embrace, too tired to try to hide the fact that she missed her dad. Chris wrapped his arms around her as soon as she was close enough, wanting to give her as much comfort as he can. He understood her pain but knew that nothing he could say would be able to give her what she really wanted, so he sat there holding her.

  One hand stroked up and down her back as she burrowed further into the embrace, a comfortable silence falling between them while she leaned on him for strength. She pressed her ear against his chest, just right above his heart, the steady beating almost lulling her to sleep. He raised his other hand to push her hair away from her face, his gaze softening as he noticed the calmness in her features. Fingers stroked at her cheek, causing her to raise her head and look up at him.

  Chris swallowed thickly at the image she made. Eyes half-lidded and cheeks stained pink from wine, she never looked more beautiful to him than at that moment. If that look didn’t lead to his undoing, the feeling of her body pressed against his would surely be. But he tried his damnedest to push the thoughts out of his head. This was Alana Maxwell, his boss’ daughter. Nothing could come of it.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked softly.

  “No,” he said with a small smile. “Just thinking to myself.”

  “What about?” she prodded.

  “How beautiful you look.”

  As soon as the words left his lips, he squeezed his eyes shut, unbelieving that he had just blurted it out instead of keeping the thought to himself.

  Her blush deepened at the compliment. “T-thank you,” she stammered in response.

  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “So you didn’t mean it?”

  “No!” he exclaimed. “I mean, yes! Yes, I mean it.”

  Alana bit down on her lip, trying in vain to hide her chuckling, but seeing her teeth sink into the plump flesh further sent his thoughts wayward, causing Chris to groan. “Don’t do that,” he whispered, using his thumb to gently tug her bottom lip free.

  Staring into each other’s eyes, they both became more aware of what was happening. His gaze fell to her lips, the pad of his thumb softly grazing over them, feeling the softness under his touch.

  “Kiss me,” she said all of a sudden.

  He snapped his eyes back up to hers, surprise swimming in the blue pools. “I ca – ”

  Before he could even complete his protest, Alana reached behind his head and pulled him down, craning her neck until their lips crashed against each other. Chris mentally shouted at himself to pull his head back or to push her away, but the softness of her lips, the sweetness of her mouth and the heat emanating from her body were too much to ignore. Forgetting all common sense, he tightened his grip around her, pulling her flush against his chest as they both gave in to the kiss.

  Her tongue darted out and tentatively licked at his bottom lip, hoping that he would understand what she wanted. His own tongue slipped out, delving through her parted lips and exploring the recesses of her mouth. Neither let up from the kiss until they were left breathless, panting for air as they pulled away from each other.

  “Wow,” she sighed.

  “I’m a dead man,” he remarked. “Not only will I end up getting fired but I’m pretty sure your dad will kill me too.”

  Alana shook her head, amused at his frantic tone. She tried to reassure Chris that it wasn’t going to happen. “Besides, I asked for it,” she said. “What’s so wrong about what we did anyway? It’s just a kiss.”

  “That’s the thing,” he piped up. “I don’t want just a kiss.”

  At the seriousness in his tone, she looked back into his eyes, noticing how dark they had become. The bright blue she was used to seeing was now a deep azure, clouded with desire. Out of nervous habit, she bit down on her lip again, sucking in a breath when he pulled at it again.

  “I told you not to do that,” he said quietly.

  She felt her cheeks flare up, no doubt turning her even redder. The temperature seemed to have gone up several notches, the mood between them getting hotter. His heated gaze that seemed to trail a blazing path on every part of her that it could lie upon only serving to speed the beating of her heart.

  With Alana not pulling away at his confession, he felt a surge of confidence. Chris allowed for his hands to travel down her back, smoothing his palms over her ass before pulling her further up against his body so she ended up straddling him. She gasped as he settled her over his crotch, now aware of the effect she had on him.

  “I told you I was a dead man,” he said with a smirk.

  “From where I’m sitting, you’re a big man,” she quipped. She meant to say it to lighten the mood but saying it out loud only served to make her think of how well-endowed her really was, how it would feel for him to be inside her. The fact that it had been a while since she last had
sex made her more excited about the idea.

  “You’re treading on dangerous ground Miss Maxwell,” he said in a low tone, the sound proving to be more seductive rather than a warning.

  “You’re talking to the girl who went away to a foreign country, barely able to speak the language,” she replied. “I think that says I like adventure and danger.”

  “We can’t do this,” he whispered, his actions betraying his words as a hand travelled underneath her shirt, resting at the small of her back.

  “Who says we can’t?”

  “Your dad is gonna – ”

  “My dad isn’t here,” she interrupted. “Besides, didn’t he say for you to keep me company?”

  “I highly doubt that when he said for us to reconnect, that he meant for me to keep you company in bed,” he argued gently.

  “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she replied with a seductive smile. “And Chris,” she paused, leaning closer to whisper into his ear, her hips rolling against his manhood. “We’re not in my bed.”

  A growl rumbled through his throat as she kept rocking against him, teasing him into submission. He could feel his cock grow harder each second, painfully straining against his trousers. His hands travelled to her hips, keeping a steady grip as he helped guide her movements, pulling her crotch down harder against his. Alana moaned as she felt his size through their clothing, thinking just how impressive it must be when pulled free.

  With that thought in mind, she stopped her movements, pushing his hands away so she can be free to slide off the couch and down to the floor. Her hands reached up to his belt buckle, deftly unfastening it and working at getting his pants off. He raised his hips off the couch so she could pull them down his muscular thighs, his boxers following soon after.

  Chris swelled with pride as her eyes widened at the sight of him. Long, thick and rock hard, and nothing short of impressive. She licked her lips as she took in every inch, feeling a wetness pool between her legs as her excitement grew.

  She sat mesmerized as he took his cock in his hand, stroking the shaft as he stared at her. She reached out to place her hand over his, moving along to his pace before he pulled away to let her do it alone. The feeling of her warm hand wrapped around him was something he never even dreamed of, but when she took him in her wet mouth, he threw his head back.

  Alana bobbed her head up and down, trying to take as much of him into her mouth as she can. What her mouth couldn’t handle, her hand stroked, being rewarded with his moans of pleasure.

  “Stop,” he said, gasping for breath. He stood up and pulled her up off the floor, crashing their lips together in a bruising kiss.

  He pulled away in surprise when she tore at his shirt, the buttons flying everywhere. “I’ll buy you a new one,” she said.

  He couldn’t help but be amused as she hurriedly took of her clothes, his chuckles quickly turning into an appreciative growl as more and more of her tanned flesh was revealed. Italy had definitely done her wonders.

  Chris pushed her down on the couch once she was finally naked, kneeling before her and spreading her legs apart. Without much warning, he thrust into her, only able to bury half of his manhood in her tight heat.

  “Fuck,” Alana gasped, the intrusion causing both pain and pleasure. His fingers found their way to her clit, playing with the sensitive nub to make her feel more at ease. Her body responded to his touch, her pussy getting wetter at his ministrations.

  He moaned loudly when she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into her. “You’re so fucking tight,” he said gruffly. “God you feel so good.”

  “Deeper,” she mewled. “I want to feel you deep inside me.”

  Chris did as she asked, pulling out almost completely, leaving just the head of his cock inside her before thrusting hard and burying himself to the hilt. She squealed in delight, begging him to do it again. He repeated his actions several more times before he felt her walls get even tighter. “Cum for me,” he urged, pulling out slowly and thrusting hard and deep.

  Their moans filled the air as Alana was thrown over the edge, her body trembling as he slowed his pace. “Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Just keep fucking me.” She whimpered in protest as he did the opposite, completely pulling out of her.

  Chris sat down on the couch and pulled her into his lap, placing her legs on either side of his waist. One hand kept a firm grip on her hip as the other held up his cock, slowly guiding her body down onto him. Unsatisfied with the slow pace, she forced her body down, impaling herself onto his cock, groaning as her pussy stretched to accommodate his girth.

  His hands travelled up her torso and squeezed her breasts as she set her own pace. He pulled her body closer and leaned down, catching a nipple in his mouth. His tongue lapped at the hardened peak as his fingers pinched the other, eliciting a moan to escape her lips.

  “Oh fuck,” she gasped. “I’m gonna cum again.”

  He reached back down and gripped her hips firmly, holding her in place as he bucked his hips upward at a frantic pace. Her moans quickly turned into screams, his hard cock pounding into her almost too much to handle.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he ground out as her walls tightened around him once again.

  Alana buried her head against his shoulder, muffling her scream as she came violently in a toe-curling orgasm. Her walls had become painfully tight, barely allowing Chris to move.

  “I’m close,” he whispered against her ear.

  “Cum inside me,” she said breathily. “I wanna feel you.”

  His hand found its way between their bodies and found her clit, rubbing hard against the sensitive nub as he kept thrusting into her. “Cum again and I will.”

  With his size and his steady pace, it didn’t take long for her to be near climax again, begging for him to cum with her.

  “Fuck!” she exclaimed. “Now, Chris!”

  With one final thrust, he came inside her, jets of creamy white liquid coating her inner walls as she milked him for all his worth.

  Completely spent, Alana collapsed against him as they both struggled to catch their breaths.

  He raised a hand to her face, gently stroking her cheek as they lay on the couch, no words leaving their mouths.

  “I’m definitely a dead man,” he said after a few moments. “But damn if it wasn’t worth it.”

  “I told you,” she said with a smirk. “We’re not in bed. And there’s still the kitchen, several tables, rooms and plenty of floor space for us to do our reconnecting.”

  Bianca Plays at Work

  Bianca hurriedly made her way to the Pages’ two-story house. Her long brown hair flew behind her as she practically ran all eight blocks to her destination. She thanked her lucky stars she didn’t have any classes for the afternoon. Her English teacher, Ms. Greene, had cancelled at the last minute as she was nursing a cold and feeling under the weather. Not that Bianca was glad Ms. Greene had the cold, of course. Ms. Greene happened to be Bianca’s favorite teacher. English was Bianca’s only class every Friday afternoon, and having no English class meant she didn’t have to bring her backpack with her in her babysitting job. Bianca, sweating and breathing heavily, having no backpack with her meant she could make it to the Pages more quickly.

  “Hurry up, Bianca, hurry up,” Bianca told herself as she rounded the next corner and almost sprinted the last block to the Pages. She had been babysitting Jana Pages for more than two months now. The babysitting job was something Bianca thanked for every night. She was grateful to have found a job that not only had the most amazing people around but also paid very well. No surprise, considering Jack and Erin Pages, Kathleen’s parents, owned a string of businesses all over the state, with several branches starting to operate in other states as well. Successful as they may be, the Pages were one of the most humble and down-to-earth people Bianca knew. The family invited her to events and parties, and Bianca always had a great time in them.

  The Pages had another child, specifically a son. His name
was Ben Pages. Like Bianca, he was also in college, although they attended different schools. With Ben away for college, Bianca never got to see the boy in person. She knew what he looked like from pictures though. Bianca had to admit Ben Pages looked, well, quite good. From what she saw, Ben was tall, although not as tall as Mr. Pages who towered at six feet and four inches. Ben had a shock of jet-black hair, something he got from his father and which offered a stunning contradiction to his crystal-clear blue eyes, a feature he got from his mother this time. His complexion was clear, and his teeth were perfect. Ben Pages looked ready to break hearts, and Bianca didn’t doubt Ben had already broken several hearts.

  Bianca shook her head to clear it. She couldn’t believe she was thinking of Ben Pages while she was running late for her babysitting stint. What on earth was she thinking? Besides, Ben was technically employer. Bianca had made it a personal rule to never get any strings tangled with her employers. She had been successful in staying true to her goal so far, and she was determined to keep it that way for as long as she lived.