Five-Minute Erotica

by Carol Queen

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Title Page

  Introduction

  Seduction

  Dear Marla

  Bad Kitty

  For You

  The Bounty of Summer

  Captain, May I?

  Power Game

  Sex Club Hopping in Paris

  Speaking in Tongues

  Birthday Rap

  Leave a Message

  His Hands

  Restaurant Opening

  Gold

  Chemistry

  A Closer Encounter

  Subway

  The Fever

  All Eyes On Her

  Under the Camel Light

  Disco Nap

  Give Me a Shine

  Kinsey Six

  The Real Reason I Have Long Hair

  Gwen Is Wet

  Lunch Meeting

  Train Ride

  Real Redheads

  The Long Walk Home

  Within

  Sod

  Spank Me

  Honeymoon

  The Magician’s Assistant

  The Suit

  Notes on Contributors

  Copyright Page

  To Robert,

  For erotic times short and long.

  Introduction

  Short erotica. Sweet and spicy little bites of fantasy, sexual reveries to look for your own reflection in.This book is a collection of different visions of the erotic, all short, but with no less depth and power for that—any fancier of miniatures knows how much color and detail can be delicately brushed onto a tiny canvas.

  Stories this brief are sometimes called “sudden fiction.” It’s a form especially suited to erotica. Perhaps you know from experience how fast a sexual fantasy can take hold, transport you for a second (or much longer) out of mundane reality. Or perhaps you need to get out of your head, need a match lit to get your fire started. Got five minutes? Start reading!

  These stories aim to appeal to heterosexual women’s sense of the erotic, but anyone who has paid one bit of attention knows how diverse female desires can be.This book is as diverse as I could make it, for as an editor I never know for sure what will spark the hottest fantasy, make a reader glow or dream. And that’s the idea: to get you dreaming; not only the dreams of the authors collected here, but your own. And if men like this book too—well, why wouldn’t they? All this talk of Mars and Venus throws an eclipsing shadow over reality: often we share erotic moments, desires, inspirations quite happily.

  Not all of the stories are by women authors; I like it when we talk to each other across society’s lines. Sometimes we inspire each other; sometimes we learn something about each other.

  From sweet musings about (or by) Mr. Right to randy couplings with Mr. Right Now, this collection takes women’s different desires in all directions—mild to wild, from the marital bed out to the streets. Our protagonists make love with their longtime partners or go have sex with strangers; they luxuriate in passionate, worshipful oral sex or they show off brazenly. Many of the commonest women’s fantasies are here, but it doesn’t matter how many women share them, really—what’s important is how they feel to you, whether they open a door into deeper eroticism.

  Some stars of the erotic writing world contributed to Five-Minute Erotica—if you go back to the bookstore, you will see their names everywhere, from their own collections to the content page of Best American Erotica. (Check Contributor Bios for more from your favorite storytellers.) But there are also first-time writers here, several whose stories have never before been published. Four couples contributed stories, too. There’s got to be a message in that:The family that fantasizes together . . . ?

  Whether or not you and your love (if you have one, or only one) write salacious tales to each other, by all means read these out loud! The stories are quick, sparkplugs to exploration, but they can take you to a place outside of time.Whether you visit in mind or also in body, I wish you a delicious trip.

  —Carol Queen

  San Francisco, January 2003

  Seduction

  BY CECILIA TAN

  She knows what seduction is, because until the night she lost her virginity—a night she had waited for a long time after many near-misses, several broken dates and a few broken hearts—she had thought what most people think, that seduction is something dishonest and dangerous, sultry and tawdry, slow and cautious, but really it’s none of those things, for as she learned, the most important part of a seduction is the removal of fear—that instinctual safeguard without which one feels perfectly secure, safe as a hatchling nested deep in downy feathers, for that is exactly how she felt when he—he who is only significant by the fact that it was he who seduced her, finally, that night in the hotel bar where she sat waiting for someone she didn’t know would be him—pulled her hand gently until she was near enough to feel his warmth, and he pressed the backs of her fingertips to his fly as if to show her it was nothing dangerous, the way they let small children touch snakes in a zoo, with a care and deliberation that says it is safe, and it did seem so, it seemed hungry to her, but not in a predatory way, rather more like a pet needing to be cared for, harmless and within human control, and so it was that she was seduced, not slow, but quick and sure, so that the panic, the fear, that had driven her from all the others was entirely absent, and she embraced him like he was a big, dependable dog ready for an afternoon walk, but of course they went straight to his room and stripped out of their clothes, quickly, to keep ahead of the fear in case it should return; that is why she was the one who grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed him down, and pressed herself upon him as she looked into his face flushed with thrill and surprise, engulfing him, because she was not afraid in that moment, and now knowing what she did, would not ever be again.

  Dear Marla

  BY GRETA CHRISTINA

  To: Marla (marlabird@thistlebooks.com)

  From: Chris (clv@compufix.com)

  Subject: I miss you

  Dear Marla,

  I miss you.The flight went smoothly and my family is relatively sane, except Fran who’s having fits about Mom’s birthday being perfect. I guess I didn’t help matters by calling her Franny-Fat-Fanny, which after thirty-odd years still makes her yell at me. I’m sorry you couldn’t be here to see it.

  This is what I’m thinking about you today. I’m remembering something I read once, about how 95% of sex scenes in movies show the couple having sex for the first time. I don’t know if they meant that number literally or were making it up to make a point. But I realized that I don’t get that. I know all these guys (women too, probably) who get bored doing it with the same person, who need a fresh body every few months or years to keep their attention. But I don’t get it. I’ve never gotten it. It seems so ridiculously obvious to me that sex gets better with time, not worse. It’s like playing the piano.You need to practice, for years.You can’t play the piano for a few months and then quit and switch to the tuba, and then quit that and play the saxophone for a while. Not if you’re going to be really good at it.

  When I’m going down on you, for example. (What a nice example.) There’s a spot, I don’t know how to describe where it is, it’s on the right side of your nub, kind of high up at the top.When I’m licking you, if you’re tensing up and I can tell you’re ready to come but don’t want to yet, if I lick that spot you kind of relax and go to this other place, this place that’s blissful and peaceful and sort of like an orgasm but not one. All that shark-like forward motion stops, for both of us, and it’s like sitting still for a moment in the woods. Until I move, over to one of your serious hot spots, just a millimeter down is all it takes, and you start squirming again.

  And those hot spots, for another
example.When we were first going out, I’d stumble on one and you’d jump out of your skin, and I’d think, Aha! Money in the bank. And I’d zero in on it and make you crazy for about ten seconds, and then a second later you’d get kind of numb and irritable, and we’d be back to square one. Now I know. It is like money in the bank, but I can’t spend it all right away or it’ll be gone. I know I need to tease it, court it, circle around it, pass my tongue over it for just a quarter of a second and then move away. I know I need to get you worked up, missing it, wanting it, before I come back to it again, for half a second this time, just a couple of hard flicks with the tip of my tongue before I slip off again. I know I can’t zero in on it until you’re making your final run. And I know that once I do start zeroing in, once you’ve got your momentum going, I absolutely can’t stop.

  I didn’t know any of this seven years ago. I didn’t know a lot of it four years ago. And if I’d dropped you after six months for someone with different colored hair or a different bra size, I’d never have found out. It’s an awful thought. I can’t stand thinking about it.

  It’s not like I know things, so now I can go down on you the right way, the same way, every time. It’s like, I know things, so I can mix them up, play with them, shuffle the deck in a different way. I can creep up on a hot spot slow and steady like a glacier, or I can flick at it and flick away and then flick back again, or I can dance around it all night and drive you crazy, make you wonder if I’m ever going to get there. I can run my fingers up and down your lips, or use my fingers to spread you apart and open you up so your clit can’t get away, or put one inside you for that sensory overload thing that makes you so twitchy. I can press your thighs apart and hold them there, firmly and just a little roughly, like a manly-but-sensitive hero in a romance novel; or I can stroke them on the inside with the tips of my fingers, a light brushing, almost subliminal, adding a bit of background and complexity to the picture I’m drawing on your pussy with my tongue.

  It’s always new. Always a different mix.The time we did it at Dinosaur National Park, giggling and trying to stay quiet and bumping into the tent poles.That time we called in sick and spent the day in bed together, ordering take-out and watching videos and having sex all day.The night before my father’s funeral. Last night before you drove me to the airport. Every time is different.

  And that’s just going down on you.

  Anyway, it’s a moving target.You change, I change. Our bodies, our thoughts, our desires.The minute I think I know you, you come up with some dirty new idea, or remember some dirty old idea that’s been in the back of your mind for years and now can’t wait another second. And I’m dying of curiosity. I can’t wait to find out whatever new thing it is I’m going to learn seven years from now, or three months from now, or a week from now when I get home.

  All of which is a long-winded way to say that I love you, and I miss you, and I wish you were here to try all this long-winded theory with in person. I’ll write again in a day or two. I’ll see you in a week. Keep the hot spots burning.

  Love,

  Chris

  Bad Kitty

  BY THOMAS ROCHE

  She’s dressed up for the party when I get home from work. She’s lying on the bed, sprawled out on her back with her arms over her head, a smile on her face. Her skintight black leotard has a white panel over the belly. Her legs are bare, black ballet slippers on her feet. Her fingernails, long and sharp, are painted black. Also painted black are the tip of her nose, and her lips, which curve as she smiles at me. Her dark hair is pulled into a ponytail and she’s got little black cat ears. I have no idea how she got those long, dark whiskers to stand out so straight, but they look fetching, making her dark-painted mouth look even more kissable than usual.

  “Meow,” she says, rolling back and forth on the bed. “Mrowrr!”

  “Bad kitty,” I say, smiling. “You’re not supposed to be on the bed! You’ll get hair all over it.”

  “Mrrrooowwwrrr! Meow! Mew!” she sighs, and tips her head to bump it against my arm, rubbing against my skin invitingly.

  “Bad, bad kitty.Very bad kitty,” I say, coming over to the bed and sitting down next to her. “Bad kitty.” I start running my hand over her white belly, stroking her.

  “Purrrrrr,” she sighs.

  “Very bad kitty,” I say. The leotard is so tight that it clings to the lips of her sex, and I can see them swelling as I stroke her and she purrs. Her nipples stand out firmly through the leotard, growing harder. I pet lower on her belly, nearing the black part, nearing her sex.

  “Mrrrowr!” she snaps, clawing at me playfully, bringing her legs up to drag me further onto the bed. “Grrrrrr!” She digs her teeth into my shoulder and starts clawing my back.

  “Bad kitty,” I say, and extricate myself from her grasp. She looks up at me looking like she just ate the canary. Then, with slow movements of her lithe limbs, she begins to wash herself.

  Her pink, pierced tongue lazes over the inside of her wrist, and I can see she’s trying to suppress a smile as she coils herself onto all fours and bends down to lick her thigh. She’s amazingly limber, but she still can’t manage it with the grace of a cat.The leotard plunges low in the back, revealing her spine and approaching the crack of her butt. I start to caress her bare back.

  “Purrrrrrr,” she coos, stretching out fully on the bed. She starts pushing her ass in the air as I run the strokes of my hand down her back—just like a real cat. This one has a different effect on me, and I feel my cock stirring as she wriggles her kitty behind back and forth high in the air. I spank her butt hard right at the place where her leotard ends and she yelps and meows, clawing the bedsheets. Then she turns toward me. “Hisssssssss!” she says, and claws at my arm, leaving angry red marks until I go back to stroking her butt gently. She pushes her face into the sheets and moans softly, “Purrrrrrrrr.”

  I slide my hand down between her parted thighs and press my fingers against her cunt. She utters a confused cat sound, sort of a “Mrrrowr?” and pushes back against me, purring. I tug the crotch of her leotard out of the way and find her cunt extremely wet, her clitoris hard and sensitive as I touch it. She wriggles back and forth, purring as I stroke her back with one hand and her pussy with the other. She looks at me, eyes glazed in that way cats get when you’ve touched exactly the right spot. I slide two fingers into her and the confused cat noise comes again, followed by a long, rapturous purr as she pushes herself firmly onto me.

  Still holding her leotard out of the way, I slide under her, my body hanging half off the bed as I pull her down onto my face. My tongue laps her pussy hungrily like a cat going after cream. Again the “Mrrowr?” and again the purring, as I find her clit and stroke it with my tongue. She purrs louder, settling down on top of me as my tongue burrows between her lips and works on her clit. My arms are around her and I’m stroking her back, bringing more purring. My cock stands hard in my pants. She lifts her ass high in the air, tugging her pussy away from my mouth.When I get out from under her, she looks at me and says perkily,“Mrrowr?”

  I take my cock out and snuggle up behind her, pulling her leotard back out of the way. Now she’s purring rhythmically, urging me on. I guide my cock to her pussy and enter her with a single thrust, listening to the delighted “Mee-yow!” as my cock slides easily into her juicing pussy. I pump into her slowly, and she reaches down to touch her clit as I fuck her doggy style—or, more accurately, kitty style.

  I hear her meows coming faster, louder as I fuck her, as she rubs her clit.When she finally comes, it’s in a long, low growl of pleasure, a shrieking wail like the cats mating on the fence outside our bedroom. Then she resolves herself into a long purr as I keep fucking her until I moan in pleasure and come inside her.

  When I curl up next to her in the bed, she pushes her head against my chest and starts rubbing it, purring.

  I look at her suspiciously, remembering.

  “Today’s Thursday,” I say.“Not Friday.”

  “Mrrowr?”
she asks me.

  “The costume party’s tomorrow night,” I say.“Not tonight.”

  “Mrrreeeow,” she smiles, and starts washing my face with her tongue, making me laugh.

  “You’re a very, very bad kitty,” I tell her.“A very bad kitty.”

  “Puuuurrrrrr,” she says, and licks my nose.

  For You

  BY ROBERT MORGAN

  Sit down, baby. That’s right, close your eyes and breathe easy. I’ll take care of you now. First I’ll take off your shoes and rub your feet—like this. Do you like the way I hold you, touching you closely with the warm skin on my big hands? Sliding my palms around your foot’s tight arch—I want you to feel me running my long fingers around your foot and lifting your leg up a bit as I slide my hand up your leg to your knee. I’ll take off your stockings next—be still. Is it o.k. to feel my hands and arms on your calf as I do this? I hope so, baby. Now turn over and sit up. Here, let me help—hold my arm. I’m unbuttoning your blouse now. Kiss me as we do this. Slowly, very slowly touch your lips to mine as my hands take your soft blouse apart. Feel and taste our sweet breath together—our hearts beating faster, I gently press my lips harder onto yours. My arms surround you as I take you against my strong chest, both of us reaching for something inside. Breaking our kiss we pant together as I unclasp your bra and let it slip down. I pull us together tightly and our flesh connects with breathless abandon. My hands run slowly around you, circling our arms into the embrace of new-met lovers. Passion and a warm candlelit room protect us from the outside world as we form a small place of our own. With gasping regret I break our kiss. Now, smiling, I put my hand between your breasts and push you backward onto the bed. Without my asking you bring your hips up. Reaching to your waist I take your skirt off with one long, strong pull.You are almost naked now, on the bed below me, and I tell you again to be still. I reach behind me and grab my t-shirt, pulling it over my wide shoulders to expose my chest and stomach to you. Dropping my shirt and reaching down, one button at a time I undo my pants, then let them fall. Both of us are nearly naked. I’m kneeling next to you. My eyes meet yours, lovely and welcoming. I reach for you and kiss your cheeks and eyes.Your hands, tentative and gentle, touch my chest and ride down my firm belly past my navel to the edge of my hair. My hands and fingers find yours and I guide your arms over and to either side of your head. Leaning over and sliding my muscular length across you I hold your hands down, that and my weight keeping you pressed to the bed, and place my lips just out of reach of your hungry mouth. We are breathing together, just out of touch, and you moan “Please?” into my mouth. Wanton and pleading is where I want you. Ready. I hush your lips with a newly released finger and sit up on your hips. Again, you reach for me, this time with your hands. I hold your arms and place them gently to either side on top of my strong thighs. “Keep them there, baby.” I stroke your face, featherlike, touching your warm skin with fingertips. Glancing down over your cheeks and jaw I see the quick pulse in your neck. Placing my palms down on your shoulders I slowly slide my hands up and over the sides of your breasts. Again I move my hands over you, close, but not yet onto your nipples, then let my palms continue gently lower. Lower, to the same place you put your hand on me. Not going any further than you, I rub deeper and run my now-hot palms up your flanks and sides, up your sides and over your breasts, again not quite touching your sweet nipples.We’re breathing together again. Against my need to become frantic and mount you I begin to move even slower.With a dreamlike quality to my touch the tension becomes voluptuous, my hips moving involuntarily. Tightening my hard buns against your soft thighs my hands stretch up and move softly onto your breasts. Feel the heat in my palms as I approach your nipples. Aching with need, ready for my loving hands, you arch into me. Quiet for a moment, skin swells into my touch as your heartbeat throbs into my fingers.Your hand moves and reaches down for me. We are suddenly, deeply together, alone, outside the world. Leaning over, I drop on my side, stretching my thighs out next to yours. Grabbing your shoulder I roll you toward me. Insistent now you pull me against you, throbbing heat in your hands. Reaching behind your head my fingers twine into your hair—I force my soft lips against yours.Your free hand involuntarily pushes at me, trying to push me away, then acquiescing—your arm snakes around my back to pull at my shoulders, opening your thighs just a bit and wedging me between them.Writhing your self against me your breathing quickens, full deep breaths as your insistent hand on me begins to arouse my mindless response. Slippery, our juices begin to mix, as you squeeze me again and against your very center.We are as one body now, unconnected yet gasping in full rut. I rise up and kneel, placing my knees between yours and lean forward to lick the inside of your thighs, moving my wide-mouthed sucking lips and soft tongue higher toward the junction of your thighs and mons. My hand is holding you there now as I slide my tongue in a wet sweep to your labia and open you with my lips and fingers. Sliding a smooth finger into your perfect wetness I’m starting to gently suck your clit up into my mouth while my finger moves slowly, deeply into and then out. . . .