Best Women's Erotica of the Year, Volume 1

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  For three years her marriage had been sexless and still she’d held out. At first she’d asked her husband every day, then every week, then from time to time… More often than not he’d come home late (too late) from the office, exhausted beyond belief after working from ten in the morning to 1:00 a.m. That was fine; he was too tired. She had to be accepting of that. Then he’d sleep all hours of the weekend, had no time for hobbies and begrudged her on a Sunday afternoon when she approached him for a little afternoon delight, because it was the only time he had to himself. Why didn’t he tell his boss to screw himself and come home so he could screw his wife, she’d asked. You know I can’t do that, he’d said. It’s just not done. She’d cried and tried to be stoic by turns, screamed at him some days and considered starring in one of those “married women gone wild!” pornos on others. Anything just to feel something again. God, how many years of silicone-based cock had she faced?

  In the end she’d had to divorce him and that was less than a month ago. It still hurt, of course. She loved him and they remained friends, but friends didn’t need to fuck each other and she was adamant that that was something she deserved. Forty-something and with an insatiable, unapologetic craving for affection? She was going to seek out her own satisfaction now that she had earned her freedom.

  So now she was surrounded by men who could just as easily be her husband’s colleagues—ex-husband’s, sorry—offering to buy her tits a drink. “Can I buy you a drink?” was most often accompanied by “I’m a banker” or “I’m just here on business.” The latter was code for “I’ve got a wife at home but we can make some sort of arrangement.” It stung in the way that a half-healed wound is still tender when poked hard enough. She’d done it to herself.

  She left the first bar and walked the twenty minutes it took to get to Roppongi instead. From the business district to the party district, she walked past eighties bars and booming dance clubs, people already bent in half by the roadside as they emptied their guts and friends rubbed their backs. A few hugely muscular guys offered to take her to their bars, and some others in shiny suits and wearing too much hairspray asked if she had “a little time,” but she was looking for someone to love. At least for the night.

  It took until she came across a simple Japanese-style pub, an izakaya, for her to take a seat. She was overdressed for a casual hangout that served pints of beer for a single coin, but it was different enough to spark her interest.

  Seated at a four-person table alone, she placed her coat on one of the stools and discreetly adjusted her bra for maximum lift. She told the staff, who couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, that she was waiting for someone. It wasn’t a lie. The place was bathed in a happy, yellow light, with smoke from cigarettes and steam from hot pots rising from the tables, people laughing raucously and bragging about some exploit that had probably never happened. Little by little, she found herself smiling.

  By and by she nursed a beer, and a massive group of college students arrived. Given that it was the end of March they were probably all graduating soon. Aya was situated in a corner in the back of the pub, while they stretched out at a long table across from her. She could see a row of about six guys with their backs to her, and another six facing her from a distance. No, there was one discrepancy to their group: sitting almost directly across from her was one petite, mousy girl. The realization came as a shock, although she knew they must be part of the same club at their university. They weren’t huge guys, not more muscular than average, so she guessed it might be something technical or musical. Maybe even artistic, but that didn’t stop the pang of jealousy Aya felt at knowing this little girl commanded the attention of twelve men.

  She sipped her beer and tried to direct her attention elsewhere, but it always came back to the group right in front of her with the college girl seated second from the end. Three of the guys, the three closest to her, were chatting, trying to entertain her. Aya wondered if all three of them had a crush on her, or if the girl had spent time alone with all three of them, and then scolded herself for such uncharitable thoughts. The point was that she could remember a time when she’d been as desirable, as easygoing with men and her sexuality as this young woman out drinking with a soccer team’s worth of good-looking college boys. Years of being spurned had damaged her self confidence and she was, underneath it all, terribly afraid that she would never get that sense of self back.

  It took her ten minutes of glancing over, of catching the girl’s eyes and having her gaze slide away again, before she found the courage to call out.

  “Hey!” About half of the group turned to face her, as well as several other curious patrons at other tables. “What are you guys celebrating?” she asked, uncrossing her legs and recrossing them in the other direction. One of the loudest of the group, a fluffy-haired boy band type, grinned and stole a glance at her legs.

  “We’re graduating in three days. This is our last hurrah, so to speak.”

  “How lovely,” she purred. “I’d like to buy you all a round to express my congratulations, if that’s alright with you.”

  Murmurs of surprise rose from the group. “What, all of us?”

  She fixed the second speaker, a traditional dark-haired lad with excellent posture, with a slow grin. If she was lucky, the misgivings bouncing around in her ribcage wouldn’t reach her eyes. “Of course—if that’s alright with you.”

  Cheers arose from the table, and their boisterous gathering got even louder. The young girl looked spooked, but the three who had been paying attention to her before soon turned to chat about this unexpected turn of events. What Aya hadn’t expected was the three guys who shifted away from their own table and came to sit at hers.

  “Budge over, Nee-san,” said the one who had spoken first. Elder sister, that was what they called older women like Aya. He was carrying his beer and making to steal the outer seat she’d settled herself in. The other man who’d spoken held his hands out for her coat and hung it on the wall, as gentlemanly as he could. She felt a warm wash of quiet excitement and slid her satin-covered bum onto the inner stool. Now she finally felt somehow that she still had it, whatever it was.

  “I’m Yu,” said the de facto leader of their little group, “and this is Eito.” He gestured to the kid with the nice posture. “And here’s Ryusei. Mind if we keep you company?”

  “I suppose I could handle a bit of company,” she smiled. “Are you all in the same class?”

  “Same extracurricular activity. We’re in the snowboarding club. Or we were, I guess.”

  She nodded and raised her glass. “It’s all ending now, huh? Soon enough you’ll be dressed in your recruit suits and listening to the speeches of company presidents, staying late and dyeing your hair regulation black. It’s gonna be hard, but let me tell you.” She shifted closer to all of them and gestured with her glass. “Don’t let them steal your hearts. Don’t become that drone that still thinks he has time to live later. You’ll forget how to do it.”

  “We’ll do our best,” said Yu, taking a long chug of his beer. “I know it’s going to be a battle. I know. I just don’t like to think about it.”

  Eito mumbled words of agreement, and Ryusei’s jaw tightened into a stiff smile. Yu patted Eito on the shoulder comfortingly. They spoke a few more minutes about some of their club’s greatest hits, and then Ryusei shifted quietly away, back to the main table.

  Aya was soon snorting inelegantly about a story where the boys of the group had all decided to run towel-clad through the snow to get into a hot spring located miles away from any man-made structure in the mountains of the north.

  “And? Was it worth it?” Aya smiled, remembering a few of her own college escapades. How she loved the fearlessness that came with youth.

  Eito laughed outright, more openly than he had until that point. “I entered first—you know I won, Yu, don’t lie—but it was the hottest thing ever! My feet felt like they’d gotten cold burnt in the snow only to be boiled in a ridiculously hot spring
! Natural? Sure, but—”

  “You were howling!” Yu laughed. “We all were. It was so shallow and rocky that I thought I was going to scrape my balls and—” He stopped abruptly, clamping a hand over his mouth when he realized what he’d just said. Apparently he’d said it loud enough to attract the attention of the main table as well. Aya glanced over in time to see the young girl watching her curiously.

  “No! Don’t be shy.” She grinned, raising an eyebrow over at her younger counterpart. They could have been sisters in Aya’s younger days. “Continue with your story, it was just getting juicy.”

  “It only came up to our waists, so our lower halves were boiling and the upper halves were freezing cold. Like sitting around in bathwater that’s draining, but you don’t want to get out so you sink lower and lower,” Eito said, gesturing to his hips and slipping down in his chair. Aya admired the view.

  His description was how she felt about life sometimes, if she was perfectly honest. There was no excuse for it anymore: no excuse for living trapped between two worlds that didn’t quite suit, hoping that sliding one way or the other would make it all more comfortable. Well, sometimes you just had to head for a third option. “Makes me want to take a bath,” she said instead.

  Yu’s eyes widened for a moment and there was a moment of delicious recognition. “Not in the wilderness though,” she clarified. “I like my creature comforts—bubbles and bath jets.”

  Eito shifted in his seat and Aya smiled, happy to give the impression that flirting with danger could be so, so good. “Did you ever do anything like that in university?”

  “Oh, what didn’t we do? I remember one Halloween we went to Shibuya and I was wearing a Little Red Riding Hood costume…”

  The next hour or so passed in fits of laughter and slightly tipsy leaning on one another as they skipped over the polite small talk that often accompanies meeting new people, and went straight into bold confessions of future fears and past mistakes. “I’ve always wanted to sleep with an older woman,” Yu announced out of the blue, raising his arms over his head to fake a yawn. Real smooth, kid, thought Aya.

  “Me too,” Eito jumped in, a little more nervously. Aya glanced over at the main table, wondering if any of their companions had overheard. They hadn’t. “Young girls are just so…” He gestured helplessly to the air.

  They were pushing the envelope here; they all were, except that Aya knew a thing or two about putting your money where your mouth was. “Wanna get out of here, boys?” A thrill of excitement raced up and down her arms, down her legs, tingled in all the right places. Both of her college grads stared, open mouthed, before Yu reached for his coat. Eito leapt out of his chair, and in the space of a minute they were headed for the street. Aya didn’t bother to look for the expression on the college girl’s face; she left it behind, along with her inhibitions.

  Half a block up the street was a love hotel, square with a couple of lit-up boards advertising by-the-hour prices and a cheesy name, but otherwise exactly like any of the apartment buildings that filled the spaces above and around the bars. The three of them hesitated in front of the automatic sliding doors that read “Front,” wondering if their courage would carry them that far.

  “Okay?” asked Eito, slightly breathless with exhilaration at his own bravado.

  “Let’s do it,” Aya said confidently, leading the way. Inside there was a menu screen displaying the interiors of rooms and their prices. There were no staff visible, and the area was dimly lit enough that no one could identify them unless they were up close.

  “What about that one?” said Yu, pointing to a four-poster bed in red and cream. “The bed looks wide.” He giggled nervously, and Aya pressed the button before anyone let their shyness get the better of them.

  Once in the room, the trio found themselves shyly winding their way around one another. Yu on the left and Eito to the right, Aya turned her head back and forth as the younger men kissed down her neck and over her breasts. Eito, for all his nerves, took the plunge and began running his hands over Aya’s silky dress, smoothing it against the contours of her body and pressing himself to her. Aya’s back arched as Yu took things a step further and slowly traced his hand over her thigh and under her dress, just skimming over the lace of her panties. The two men were practically competing with one another as Eito’s hand joined in, caressing her ass, squeezing it, a soft moan telling her that she was as desirable as she’d hoped. It felt so good to be wanted like this.

  Feeling the heady rush of pleasure, she pulled her dress over her head, showing her best set of lingerie to them, a set that her own ex-husband hadn’t even cared to see. Moans of appreciation were followed by hurried undressing by both men; piles of clothes joined hers on the floor. Aya was impressed at the sight of the naked young men; it had been a long time since she’d seen a hard body in person, much less two of them—and they were both wonderfully hard in other ways as well.

  Naked, the trio laid on the crisp white sheets of the queen-size bed and explored one another slowly, tantalizingly. There were hands everywhere, mouths too, and the sensations were almost too much. Aya sat up and turned to look at the two men, Eito with his thick, ever-so-slightly curved cock standing straight up, and Yu, a bare fraction of an inch smaller but lying flat against his belly, the head sticky with precome.

  Aya grinned and gestured for the two men to move closer together as she brushed her hair back and knelt between them. She wrapped her hands around both of their cocks, enjoying the texture of hard but velvety flesh, and very slowly, deliberately stroked them up and down, her eyes flitting back and forth between the two, judging their reactions. Eito was watching her intently, his stomach muscles tightening with each movement of her hands, while Yu’s eyes were closed, his head flat against the pillow and his mouth open in a pant. Without breaking her rhythm, Aya locked eyes with Eito and took his cock in her mouth, her tongue flattening as she slid the shaft into her throat, the salty juices mixing with her saliva as she swallowed hungrily. Eito gave an involuntary thrust, his balls pushing against her chin as she rolled her tongue over the head. All the while, her palm stroked over Yu’s; he was very sensitive, she realized, and it wouldn’t take much for him to come all over if she wasn’t careful. Slowly she lifted her head and released Eito with a slurp and switched to Yu, her tongue darting back and forth over the base of his cock, avoiding the head as much as she could.

  Aya could have kept going for hours, the taste of the two men mixing in her mouth, but Yu had other plans. While she was back to deep-throating Eito, Yu gently disengaged her hand and slid down the bed, his hands nudging her thighs apart before he crawled under her. Yu pulled her hips down, taking some of the weight off her knees as he buried his mouth and tongue in her dripping wet pussy. Aya moaned around Eito’s cock as Yu’s lips brushed over her clit; he was kissing it, then lapping at her lips, then shaking his head.

  Where had a man of his age learned such things, she wondered, as Eito’s hands pulled her head down farther onto his twitching length. Yu had found her most sensitive spot and she shuddered; the cock in her mouth and the sensations between her legs were overpowering. Now that Yu had found her weakness, he was holding her down, his fingers gripping her hips, and Aya was done for. She came forcefully, ripples of electricity skipping down her back and through her pussy, the lips shuddering against Yu’s onslaught. Eito sat up, freeing Aya’s mouth while his hands strayed to her nipples, rolling them mercilessly as she shook; this only served to intensify her orgasm and she sank into it, letting her voice echo around the room.

  Unable to feel her legs, much less move, Aya allowed the men to help her onto her side between the them, Yu behind and Eito in front. They looked at one another over her shoulder, seemingly to check whether they were both satisfied with their positions, when Eito reached down and lifted Aya’s leg up into the air, holding her wide open. Yu’s chest pressed into her back then his cock slid inside her; he pushed lazily, coating himself in her juices while his hand held her st
eady. Eito watched in silence as Yu fucked her, then took himself in hand and began stroking the head of his penis against her already aching clit. His precome added to the mixture, Aya was saturated and after the briefest of teases, Eito lifted her leg higher and pushed himself in, the two men sharing her slit. The bizarre combination of two cocks rubbing against one another inside her, thrusting in different rhythms against every inch of her was overwhelming.

  She was stretched to the limit; it was almost painful, but so, so pleasurable at the same time. Yu was jackhammering against her, his mouth leaving sticky kisses over her shoulder and down the back of her neck, while Eito was barely moving, just pushing himself from deep to deeper inside. They were focused on their own pleasure, so much so that neither seemed to notice when Aya’s hand went to her clit, needing only the barest of touches to start herself clenching, albeit a much more challenging feat around two willful men. Both seemed to change pace then, Yu slowing down as Eito sped up; they were very nearly in sync when Aya cried out in her third orgasm of the evening. Eito buried himself within her and growled as he came; she could feel the thick ropes of come hitting the front wall of her pussy, and the way his balls twitched against her as he emptied himself. Yu, on the other hand, sank his teeth into her shoulder as he thrust through his release, each splash punctuated by the slap of his stomach against her ass.

  Satiated, sleepy, the three lovers lay there lost in their individual moments until their bodies cooled and Aya could feel the telltale slick oozing out of her thoroughly yet happily abused pussy. Eito’s arm had slunk around her, and his hand was lazily squeezing her breast when Yu sat up, scrubbed his face with his hands and then disappeared momentarily, before returning with a fluffy white towel just barely hanging off his hips. “You said you wanted a bath,” he grinned, “so let’s go.”