Best Women's Erotica of the Year, Volume 2

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  He reached over to cover my mouth. “I said the sound is muffled, not completely blocked. Do you need to be silenced?” I shot him a teasing glance. “You like being silenced?”

  “Mmmmmm…” The possibility of being caught was a new thrill, one that set my blood ablaze.

  “Good girl,” he whispered. He removed his hand from my mouth, slapping my ass with it instead. I gasped, wondering if the crack of flesh against flesh was too much for the sound-muffling sponge. I didn’t have time to wonder, however, for he continued striking me in between thrusts. Despite the stinging pain, I pushed back. We only had so much time, and I was craving more of him.

  “Sir?” I whimpered.

  “Yes, my sweet?” He didn’t stop pumping. He was always aggressive, but this time was more aggressive than usual. He was going harder. Perhaps he wanted me to have difficulty walking back, giving clear evidence of his work.

  “May I please use my toy?” He wouldn’t stop until I came, and since we were pressed for time, I figured it would be best to try and speed things along.

  “You may,” he said, reaching forward and pulling my dress down a bit. My breasts sprang free, bouncing with each thrust. He found my left nipple, twisting and pinching it. I bit down on my lower lip, knowing that I’d be feeling it later.

  Gripping the piano bench tighter with my left hand, I held the bullet with my right hand, positioning it right over my clit. Just as I pressed the button, I shuddered. Max gripped my hips tighter than normal, moving rapidly. There was a dull, delicious ache forming deep within me; I would be marked. Everything inside my being was concentrated at my center, each synapse laser-focused on the increasing tension. No matter what Max did to me, it always felt right. It always felt exquisite. It always felt—

  “Oh, oh, oh, Sir!” My legs started to become weak as nearly all of my energy was drained, spilling out with my orgasm. That little vibrator could knock the wind out of anyone. With one final slap, I felt his limbs shake, recognizing that he’d reached his climax as well. We stayed bent like this for half a minute or so, until a strange tone sounded.

  “Intermission is nearly over, my pet.” He detached himself from me. I heard a crinkle of plastic. I stayed still as he used a soft tissue to wipe up the fluids from my pussy. It gave me a great deal of comfort knowing that he liked taking care of me, making sure I was tidied up after our fun. When he finished, I heard him pull up his pants. I reached down to pull up my thong.

  “Don’t put that on.” With his command, I kept my legs apart, aware of the elastic stretched across my ankles. He bent down, grabbed my right ankle, slipped it off and did the same with the left. I turned to look at him. He shoved it in his face, inhaling sharply. “I’ll be keeping this.” And with that, he stuffed it in his inside jacket pocket.

  Thank god for floor-length evening gowns, right?

  I stood up and started stuffing my various curves back into the dress. Max smirked while I put myself back together. When I was restored to his satisfaction, he arranged the hair clip to his liking. He tucked some hair behind my ear, the gesture far more tender than anything he’d done to me previously. He leaned toward me and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “You look lovely, my dear.”

  I lowered my lashes. “Thank you, Sir. I’m sorry I didn’t ask your permission to climax.”

  “You’ll remember for next time.”

  He took my hand and led me toward the elevator. I knew he had a job to do, and I wasn’t about to persuade him to abandon the performance, but I was reluctant to let go of him. He was exhilarating, captivating and certainly powerful. A small part of me knew to be cautious around him, but the effect that Max had on me was intoxicating. In a brief amount of time, he’d turned me into his slave; I loved it.

  “That was quite the performance, huh?” he said as I boarded the elevator.

  I giggled. “Can’t wait for the encore.”

  As the doors closed, he winked at me. I savored the gesture, knowing it would have to tide me over until the curtain fell.

  TASTE

  Jocelyn Bringas

  The cool San Francisco air was refreshing on my skin after being stuck behind a stuffy cubicle for eight hours. I was following my routine of walking to the underground Embarcadero BART station to take my evening train ride home. When I reached Market Street and Drumm, I stood on the crowded sidewalk and waited for the signal to walk across the street.

  “I wonder if you taste as good as you look.”

  Either my hearing was deceiving me or some douche bag had just tried to use a lame pickup line on me. I turned around to face the douche bag in question. Initially, I expected someone of a short stature with an unfortunate unibrow. My mouth dropped when my eyes drank up the perfect specimen standing before me.

  I was totally judging his book by its cover. He was a hot blond wearing a crisp white dress shirt with matching white trousers. He towered over my five-foot-two frame. My neck tilted back to get a better look at his face. His eyebrows weren’t unibrow. They arched perfectly above his piercing blue eyes that were obviously looking down my top. The corner of his lips curved into a panty-dropping smirk.

  Whoever this man was, he wasn’t trained in the art of subtlety.

  “What if I do?” I asked him.

  He leaned in toward me, his face inches from mine. My eyes fixated on his, which were a shade of blue that held power. I stood my ground though. I didn’t move toward him or away from him. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction to his proximity.

  “Do you care to provide a sample then?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  I turned around and urged the traffic signal to change so I could escape this man who was probably a criminal. The signal changed and that was my cue to walk. I was in such a hurry to walk across the street that I failed to notice a bike messenger headed toward me. Before I could collide with the bike messenger, I felt a pair of hands pull me out of the way. My back came in contact with the front of a hard body as the bike messenger zipped by at lightning speed.

  I was so overcome with shock that it took me a few moments to realize whoever had pulled me out of the way was holding me possessively and not letting go.

  “You sure smell good, so you must taste good,” the voice of the hot blond spoke into my ear.

  I should’ve been disgusted. I should’ve been screaming for help. I should’ve been fighting with all my strength to peel away from him. Instead my body betrayed me as an electric thrill passed through my system. It had been a while since I’d been intimately close to a man. I didn’t even know his name.

  He nudged me forward, and my legs hustled across the busy crosswalk. I continued taking the same path I’d taken every workday for the past year and a half. Except this time I was completely self-conscious with every step. Was he still trailing behind me looking at my ass? I didn’t dare look back. I was afraid of the answer to that question.

  Once I made it inside one of the BART trains, I stood among the commuters with my mind replaying what had happened earlier. An attractive man had bluntly made a pass at me in the middle of my evening rush to leave work and go home. He made a pass at me after I’d spent eight grueling hours at work, when I knew I looked tired and worn.

  My evil insecurity sneered at me. It was probably a joke for his own entertainment. I’d probably never see him again in the sea of people that walked through San Francisco. Around forty minutes later the train arrived at the last stop.

  As I walked toward the exit, my stomach flooded with anticipation when I saw him. He stood confident like a statue as the other commuters hurriedly passed by him to get off the train. His bedroom eyes never moved off me as I walked toward him. I found it ironic he was all dressed in white like an innocent angel from heaven. The smirk he wore on his lips, though, suggested he was anything but innocent.

  I slowed my stride. Why was I walking toward him? I turned around and scurried to another train door to leave. I stepped onto the platform and then walked
to the parking lot to find my car. My hamstrings were burning by the time I made it there. As I sped out of the parking lot, I looked to see if he was following me. I didn’t see him. It was only when I got onto the freeway that I felt safe.

  Getting out of bed the following morning was a struggle. I tossed and turned most of the night. Visions of the hot blond tasting my body with his tongue looped in my mind like a persistent late-night infomercial.

  I thought about calling in sick, but I didn’t want to put a dent in my attendance record. The whole day I was distracted at work, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Once the clock hit five thirty, I left the office and walked toward the Embarcadero BART station.

  I admit my eyes were on the prowl for the hot blond as I approached the train station. My body tensed when I came to the same corner at Market Street and Drumm where he had wondered out loud about how I tasted. I wished I’d given him a sample. He probably had forgotten about me. There was no denying he was hot, so he’d probably picked up another woman. My stomach turned at the image of him tasting someone else.

  Once I was inside the train, I found a seat and sat down. I stared out the window as the scenery of the Bay Area slid by. I tried to push out any thoughts of the hot blond with the important topic of what I could have for dinner when I got home.

  About fifteen minutes into the ride, a hand settled on my right thigh. My body jolted in surprise. I turned to face the perpetrator. It was the man I had tried to forget. I reminded myself to breathe.

  How was it possible for someone to become increasingly hot after twenty-four hours? My eyes were salivating at the sight of him. His blond hair was gelled up perfectly. All I wanted to do was run my fingers through it and mess it all up. He wore a blue dress shirt and black trousers that were most likely tailor-made to cling to his body in all the necessary places.

  I became aware of his hand on my thigh again when I felt his fingers graze around my black pencil skirt. I looked down at his hand and wondered what its intentions were.

  “I still want to know if you taste as good as you look.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded his head. I should’ve been turned off by his blunt-ness. Instead my head was swirling with images of his tongue working its magic between my thighs. He must have seen my explicit thoughts in my eyes because his hand drifted closer to my core.

  “I don’t even know your name,” I blurted out.

  “Jack. Remember that. You’ll be screaming it later.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at Jack’s use of pickup lines. This had to be a joke. At any moment he was going to halt his seductive touching and laugh his pretty ass off.

  “You seem pretty sure of that, Jack.”

  He flashed a smile. “I guarantee it.”

  In addition to pickup lines he also liked to use commercial slogans. The train operator announced the last stop. Jack took my hand and gripped it possessively. I tried to yank it away, but his grip was firm.

  “Kidnapping is against the law,” I said as he led me through the train station’s parking lot.

  Jack stopped in his tracks and faced me. I felt the heat from his eyes burn into me. I barely knew him, yet my body wanted all of him.

  “You’re not a kid, and I’m not letting you nap.”

  Jack recaptured my hand and we continued walking until we reached a white Cadillac Escalade.

  “I can’t leave my car here,” I said.

  “Who said we’re leaving? You’re in good hands.”

  Jack let go of my hand to pull out his car key remote. This was my chance to run away from him again. I sent a message to my legs to start moving, but my body was stubborn.

  Jack opened the rear passenger-side door and gestured for me to go inside. I climbed in and sat down. He soon followed and shut the door.

  It was official. I was crazy. I had let an attractive stranger lure me into a car. It was the kind of situation law enforcement always warned against. He was probably going to kill me, and I had willingly stepped into his trap.

  Silence filled the Escalade. Jack rested his arm on the backseat as his eyes examined me. I wondered what he was thinking about. Was he plotting different ways to kill me, or was he thinking of tasting me? Why was the latter question turning me on?

  Jack broke the silence. “I’ve never had a woman run away from me before.”

  “Never say never.”

  “And yet tonight you didn’t run away, which means you’ve been thinking about letting me have a taste of you.”

  A blush crept into my cheeks. I must be very transparent. He scooted closer to me. My right thigh was touching his left thigh. I was reminded of his height when I saw how much longer his legs looked next to mine.

  “I don’t know why you’re fixated on ‘tasting’ me, Jack. Are you sure you’re not just hungry for food? There are lots of places to eat down the street…”

  I was rambling and judging by his smirk he knew it. He leaned in close. His hot breath swept across my face.

  “They don’t have what I want on the menu.”

  Jack’s voice dripped sex. The ache between my legs grew unbearable. I squeezed my thighs in an attempt to provide some relief. It wasn’t enough. I needed to be touched. He took one of my hands and brought it to the hem of my pencil skirt. He guided me in, dragging the hem up until my skirt was bunched up at my waist.

  I separated my thighs and awaited his next move. I was in too deep. There was no turning back. I gasped when his large palm found its way between my legs and pressed against my throbbing core. My hips arched up against him to create some friction.

  Damn, I was easy.

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked as he continued to rub his palm on me.

  Good question. What was my name? How could I think when he was touching me?

  I struggled to find my voice. “Summer.”

  Jack chuckled. “You’re certainly living up to your name. You’re very hot Summer.”

  “Am I?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Hot and ready.”

  I looked down and watched Jack’s fingers push the fabric of my black panties to the side. My most private part became public to him. The slick walls of my pussy clenched in anticipation. The sexiest man I had ever seen in my twenty-eight years of life had his hand between my legs. Ripples of pleasure shook my body as one of his fingers gently traced up and down my pulsating clit.

  “I’ve barely touched you, Summer, and you’re wet.”

  “Then what are you waiting for? Taste me.”

  Jack flashed me a triumphant smirk and removed his hand. He placed his fingers in front of his nose and inhaled. Then he let out a satisfied exhale. He moved his fingers down to his lips and tasted my wetness.

  “Mmmm, you taste better than I imagined.”

  Seeing Jack enjoy the taste of my pussy boosted my confidence. I spread my legs wider and offered myself to him.

  “I have more, Jack. Feel free to help yourself.”

  Jack’s fingers found my entrance and invited themselves in. My juices coated his two fingers as they gracefully danced inside me. I gripped the side of the Escalade’s door as I gyrated my hips against him. The sweet tension built up between my legs. He kept pushing and pulling me from the edge of release.

  I was about to explode when Jack halted his motions and removed his fingers from me. My pussy quivered from their sudden exit. I saw my juices glazed over his fingers. He sucked them into his mouth and moaned as if he were tasting a fine dessert.

  He smacked his lips together. “Mmm-mmm good.”

  I needed to come. I couldn’t wait anymore. If Jack wasn’t going to help me I was going to help myself. I unbuttoned my blouse and exposed my bra to him. I pulled the cups down, and my breasts bounced into his line of vision. I normally wasn’t brazen with my body but there was something about Jack that made me lose my inhibitions.

  My fingers brushed against my aching nipples, and more pleasure added to the blaze between my thighs. Then my fingers
dove south and began fiddling my clit. I was so wet I was probably staining the leather seat of his Escalade. The pleasure continued to build with each movement I made.

  “Do you want to come, Summer?” He was so calm and collected. That increased my desire for him.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then stop being a selfish little girl, and let me make you come.”

  My fingers stopped. His blue eyes were so hypnotizing and commanding. How could I resist his tempting offer? Once I took my fingers away from my clit, Jack wasted no time. He grabbed my legs and twisted my body to face him. My back was pressed against the Escalade’s door with my legs spread apart.

  Maybe Jack did murder me because I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. I watched as his blond head zeroed in on my wet pussy. He first traced the tip of his tongue over my clit, which sent shock waves through my nerves. Then his tongue diligently massaged every part of my core as my pleasure quickly intensified. My hands found his head, and I pushed myself onto his face. I felt his smirk on my pussy as I roughly tugged on his blond hair.

  How did I get so lucky to have arrived at such a blissful moment? My hormones were in overdrive and my juices were overflowing. It sounded like Jack was drinking from my body as he tried to lick up all of my flowing wetness. His tongue and mouth had a rare talent. I didn’t regret allowing him to use them to taste me.

  I was on the verge of coming and ready to let go. I focused on watching Jack between my legs. The concentration he exhibited while tasting me and giving me pleasure sparked the explosion I had been seeking. I tightly squeezed my thighs around his head and cried out in pleasure. I didn’t care if anyone passing by could hear me.

  “Taste me, Jack! Fucking taste me!”

  Jack’s muffled groans vibrated against my pussy as he licked me faster. It was no lie the tongue was the strongest muscle in the human body because his licking never faltered. My pleasure quickly reached its peak and within seconds my clit burst. A billion sensations took over my body as I experienced the most intense orgasm of my life.