Smut in the City (Absolute Erotica)

by Victoria Blisse

  “Why?” she croaked, startled by the huskiness of her own voice.

  “You let go and I stop.”

  Cautiously, she started to raise her arms. “W-what will you be doing?”

  Miles’ reply was delivered with a smile. She didn’t need to see him to know that. “Wait and see. You know what curiosity did to the cat.”

  Gripping the loop, she realised her palms were sweaty so tightened her hold. At the same time Miles dropped to his knees and grasped the edge of her underwear.

  Now she understood. It took her breath away.

  Gently, Miles began to pull her lacy thong over her hips and down her thighs. He didn’t remove them completely though, leaving them at her knees. She watched his darkened form, wishing she could see his eyes or the expression on his face. It would encourage her and stop her nerves about being caught like this.

  “I can tell how much you want me, Caitlin.” His lips met her stomach, and it tensed in response. A finger drifted across her sex, trailing lower until it skimmed her slit. “This wetness gives you away. You cannot deny this.”

  “I don’t want to,” she responded, trying to sound far more confident than she felt.

  His head pulled back from her skin. “Do you want me to make you come? Would you like me to taste you?”

  Swallowing thickly, she nodded and gently gasped, “yes.” A light chuckle filled the air as her knickers hit the floor. Cool hands circled her ankles and Miles didn’t need to speak for her to know what he wanted her to do. She altered her stance, parting her legs so that he could settle between them and give her what she desperately wanted.

  The urge to beg hung on the tip of her tongue. However, it appeared Miles was as frenzied as she was because he didn’t wait long before making his move.

  “Oh. My. God,” Caitlin groaned when his tongue swirled around the outside of her sex. He kissed the swollen flesh, licking at her wetness as he gripped her buttocks to hold her in place. She couldn’t stop squirming, the way he used his mouth was divine.

  Her arms throbbed but his earlier threat was enough to have her keep them in place. Instead, she closed her eyes, focusing on Miles and the sensations that were rolling through her body. Every nerve ending was on alert, so that each touch, kiss or lick sent jolts of arousal to her clit. Her sex throbbed to the heavy beat of her heart, her skin over sensitized to Miles’ touch.

  With her eyes closed she could fool herself into believing this was all a dream, but all Miles had to do was slide the tip of his tongue gently between her folds and reality crashed hard. Caitlin moaned loudly, her hips thrusting toward his face in a demand for so much more.

  She knew the begging was futile. Miles would go at his own pace. That didn’t stop her asserting herself and showing him what she’d like.

  “Please,” she whimpered. It swiftly turned into a moan when he swept his tongue across her needy clit.

  Miles hummed against it, making her hips buck and her knees almost give out. The feelings were so intense. She’d never been so provocative in public, not somewhere that she could get caught at any moment, and not with a near perfect stranger. Nevertheless, those factors made the whole experience more exciting. It heightened her lust, wetting her sex even further.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” Miles whispered.

  “Then don’t.”

  His right hand left her buttock, his tongue beginning to swirl around the hot, wetness of her pussy. Looking down, she could make out very little but felt him begin to stroke his dick as he rubbed against her side. Her eyes rolled back, her head lolling to the side as she got lost in the decadence. Her skin heated as he sped up his strokes, pressing harder as he licked her clit. Sparks flew and an intense fire burned in her abdomen.

  Miles grunted, taking the tight ball of flesh between his teeth and rolling.

  “Holy fuck!” Caitlin snapped as the carriage faded and her orgasm slowly swamped her.

  The white heat consumed her from the inside, making her buck and cry out. Sweat formed a thin sheen across her skin, her pulse leapt erratically. Whimpering filled the carriage and it took her a moment or two to realise it came from her. Her entire body buzzed and vibrated, drifting slowly down from oblivion.

  A soft kiss was delivered to her stomach. It made her giggle childishly, which was odd considering what they done together seconds earlier.

  “Ticklish?” Miles rumbled, standing up and kissing her jaw.

  “A little.”

  A metallic groan and a loud grinding stopped further conversation. The lights burst on in the carriage, and suddenly self-conscious, Caitlin wrapped her shirt around her exposed breasts. Miles smirked. “You’re a strange creature.” He tapped the tip of her nose, giving her another quick kiss. “I’ll go and check what’s happening, but it looks like we’re on our way home, Caitlin.”

  Nodding her agreement, she started to tug her skirt down. Miles halted her movements, dropping to his knees again. Panic gripped her. He wasn’t intending to do it again, was he? In the light? But her fears were unfounded when Miles reached for her underwear, bringing them up her legs and helping put them back in place.

  “Only fair as I was the one to remove them,” he pointed out.

  Caitlin smiled at his chivalry. No man had ever been that considerate.

  “I’ll be back shortly.”

  He pulled on his coat, buttoning it up before leaving the carriage in search of the driver. Caitlin flopped on the chair, her legs suddenly too weak to hold her up. Exhaustion beat at her, the whole encounter sapping every ounce of happy hormone from her system. She glanced over at her belongings, only then noticing that the train was now moving.

  “Finally,” she sighed, allowing herself to relax.

  The driver announced which station they were due to enter and apologised for the delay. Miles had not returned, nor did he when the driver announced the next stop or that they were reaching the end of the line.

  Miles had vanished.

  Her only proof that it had really happened was the way her body still hummed and his discarded umbrella. The man had taken what he’d wanted and never returned. Oddly, she didn’t feel used, just confused.

  Standing to collect her bag and coat, something scratched her hip. Caitlin fumbled with her skirt, trying to feel what had caused it. Whatever it was, it appeared to be underneath her skirt, so quickly she fished into the waistband of her knickers, retrieving a business card.

  “What the…?”

  Frozen in fear Caitlin reread the card four times before she accepted what was written.

  Miles Carson. Solicitor.

  Carson. He was the Carson in the name Loft and Carson. Miles was her boss and she had a meeting with him in the morning. Shit!

  Turning the card over, her stomach flipped once again. Handwritten on the back Miles had confirmed who he was and that he knew who she was. He’d simply stated: Tomorrow should be interesting, Caitlin.

  The train slowed, stopping at the station and she walked toward the door in a trance-like state. The moment had been exquisite and passionate, one that she couldn’t comprehend repeating. People didn’t have that kind of chemistry, did they? That was for romance novels and chick flicks. They sure as hell didn’t have that kind of fun with their boss, so what were they going to do about it? How would she face him in the morning?

  Grimacing, she walked up the stairs to the street above, and a small part of her hoped the lights went out in his office.

  They knew what to do when it was dark.

  Saturday on a Tuesday

  By Giselle Renarde

  At eight in the evening, Gemma didn’t expect to meet anyone by the coffee pot.

  From her corner office, she’d spent the past ten minutes staring at the CN Tower. With its illuminated shaft, bulbous observation deck, and needle tip, it reminded her of a showy yet deformed concrete penis. That was the point of these landmark towers every city seemed to have, wasn’t it? Showing off. Clearly, whoever designed it was overcompensating
.

  At one time, the CN Tower had been the tallest freestanding structure in the world. Not anymore. Gemma couldn’t remember which city had scooped up Toronto’s former glory. Dubai, maybe? Somewhere like that. They’d added those flashing lights to the shaft around the same time the tower’s Guinness World Record was transferred to whichever city held it now. Always something new, even if it was tacky. It was hard to keep tourists interested in an elevator ride to a revolving restaurant. That’s about all the tower boasted, although she’d seen on television that you could now get harnessed up and walk around the outer edge, one hundred and sixteen storeys above Toronto.

  Gazing across the cityscape of restaurants and theatres, office towers and giant illuminated billboards, it occurred to Gemma that Toronto was a different place every day. Nothing stayed the same, not in the downtown core. Rents were high and turnover so frequent she might not have bothered keeping track if she hadn’t been a lawyer specialising in corporate leasing. How she’d ended up in this niche, she’d never know. Corporate leasing wasn’t the sort of thing little girls grew up dreaming about. She’d become a sort of urban Rapunzel trapped under an impossible workload while the city down below ate, drank, and got laid.

  And to think, when Gemma was young, she’d wanted to become a doctor.

  Her own doctor had advised her to keep fit and cut down on the caffeine, but Gemma needed coffee to cope. Maybe the walk from her office to the kitchen counted as exercise.

  “What are you still doing here, Liddy?”

  Liddy jumped, splashing coffee across the counter. With a self-conscious giggle, the girl rattled the carafe back into the machine and then grabbed for a paper towel. “I’m always here at this time.”

  Bending those long, luscious legs, Liddy mopped up the coffee that had spilled down the side of the counter. Gemma was past the point of being shy around women she liked, but she wouldn’t normally hit on coworkers. There was something sleazy about an older woman hovering over a young professional. Liddy was beautiful. She could have anybody. Gemma was above this sort of lewd behaviour… and yet something inside of her switched that evening when the junior lawyer stood. Maybe it was sheer envy of the happy people who weren’t stuck in office towers this Tuesday night.

  “Can’t handle the workload?” Gemma asked, reaching across Liddy’s warm body to grab a coffee cup.

  Liddy whipped around, eyes wide. “No, I can. That’s not the problem.”

  “Then what is the problem?”

  They were so close Gemma could smell the deep aroma of coffee on the young woman’s skin. Liddy’s breasts rose noticeably with every breath, such a tempting treat hidden beneath a crisp cotton blouse and fitted grey suit. She swallowed hard. “The problem?”

  Gemma nodded. “Is everyone heaping work on to the poor junior lawyer?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Liddy was trapped between the counter and Gemma’s hips. “Everyone’s been very nice to me, very helpful.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Liddy pulled to the side, edging away from Gemma’s ruthless desire. “Nothing to do with work. Don’t worry, I can handle it.”

  “Personal problems?” Gemma gazed at Liddy, hard, trying to see through the façade and into her soul, into her deepest emotion.

  Coffee cup in hand, Liddy slumped into one of the lunchroom chairs. “I can’t stand the thought of going home to an empty apartment.”

  “I could come with you,” Gemma offered.

  Liddy rolled her eyes and laughed, like she thought it was a joke. She took a sip of her coffee, and then stared into the mug. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Absolutely!” Gemma abandoned the counter without a coffee. She didn’t need one anymore. She was electrified by the possibilities.

  Biting her lip, Liddy traced the outlines of her plain white mug with one finger. She heaved a sigh before saying, “My girlfriend left me. I had a girlfriend and… now she’s gone.”

  Gemma felt a throb building between her legs, pulsing in time with her racing heart. “I didn’t know you had a penchant for women.”

  “Nobody knows.” Liddy bowed her head and her long hair feathered the sides of her coffee cup. “That was the problem, according to Sarah. She called me a Saturday Night Lesbian.”

  “Oh yes,” Gemma agreed. “A woman who’s crazy for pussy at the weekend, but acts like she’s straight the rest of the week.”

  Liddy’s eyes seemed awfully sad, but she smiled sweetly. “I’d never heard it before. Sarah had to tell me what it meant. She thought I was ashamed of myself, and ashamed of her.”

  “Are you ashamed?”

  “No, not at all. I just don’t want my personal life to impact my professional life. They’re two separate things. Who I sleep with has no bearing on how good a lawyer I can be.”

  Gemma couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought the same way, in my student years. Of course, back then gays and lesbians didn’t have the legal rights we have now. I just wanted to live my life quietly and become a successful lawyer.”

  “Well, it obviously worked,” Liddy offered. “Weren’t you the first female partner at this firm?”

  Nodding, Gemma backed her chair away from the table and stood. She was tired of talking. “It’s been a long day, Liddy. I don’t want to think about work anymore. Wouldn’t you rather…?”

  “I’m never going to find another Sarah!” Liddy dropped her head on her hands, seeming oblivious to Gemma’s advances.

  Gemma circled the small table and petted the girl’s dark, silky tresses. “Sure you will, when you’re ready. Church Street’s seething with eligible dykes.”

  “I guess,” Liddy said with a shrug. “I’m not really into the Church Street scene. Lesbian clubs are such meat markets.”

  “Well, there are other ways to meet a woman.” Gemma traced her hand down Liddy’s back. The grey wool of that suit jacket was not terribly inviting. “Take this off, love. You could use a nice massage.”

  Liddy straightened up in her seat. Gemma wasn’t exactly being subtle, and the girl could obviously see her intention. Even so, Liddy slipped out of her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair. She then flipped the chair around and straddled it, leaning her head down on the lunchroom table. She didn’t look Gemma in the eye. Not once.

  “Is that better?”

  “Better,” Gemma agreed. “But it would be easier if you’d take off your blouse as well.”

  This time, Liddy turned sharply. Her eyes were wide, her pink lips parted slightly. She looked almost afraid, but she didn’t say a word. Slowly, she looked away, looked down at her shirt, and began unbuttoning. When she shifted it from her angel shoulders, the pulse between Gemma’s thighs throbbed faster. Liddy’s porcelain flesh glowed ethereal, even under the kitchenette’s harsh fluorescent lights.

  “My bra too?” Liddy asked, though it was barely a question.

  “Please.” Gemma shifted the straps over those perfect shoulders while Liddy unclasped her bra. When it tumbled down in front, Gemma tried to steal a glance, but Liddy covered her bare breasts with folded arms and cupped hands. She certainly was a shy girl.

  The moment Gemma laid hands on the junior lawyer’s beautiful back, she opened like a flower. She started talking about Sarah, about her own failings, her own frailties, and how her former girlfriend called her on every one. And yes, of course she valued honesty in a relationship, but there was a difference between being honest and being mean. Sarah was mean. She’d suspected as much early on, but she loved her woman and shrugged the criticisms off as feedback, or fodder to be a better person.

  But perhaps she’d excused too much. She’d told herself Sarah’s name-calling was useful, helped her see herself more clearly, but in the end it was just an overgrown child’s way of lashing out and hurting her. Even if she still loved Sarah, she didn’t want that relationship back.

  “Good for you!” Gemma pressed her palms into Liddy’s lower back, making the girl arch and moan. “You are
a beautiful, successful, caring young woman. You don’t deserve that sort of ill-treatment.”

  “Thank you,” Liddy said, sounding close to tears. “I’ve never told this stuff to anybody. I don’t want people thinking I’m a failure.”

  “You’re not a failure,” Gemma cooed. “Oh, love, you are a champion.”

  Gemma rubbed the sweat off her palms into Liddy’s sides. The young lawyer’s belly felt immeasurably soft and welcoming, but Gemma didn’t dwell there. Before long, she was sliding her hands up until she found the weight of Liddy’s breasts.

  “Oh?” It was half question, half moan.

  “Yes?” Gemma encouraged. “Sometimes we have needs when a relationship ends. We need worship, adoration, affirmation. We need sex.”

  Liddy swallowed so hard Gemma could feel the teary clench in her throat.

  “We need someone else to take over, to take us.” Gemma squeezed the supple flesh of Liddy’s breasts and she moaned at the undeniable delight. “We need to abandon responsibility and control, give it over to someone who’s been there before, who knows the pain we’re in.”

  “You know the pain?” Liddy asked gently.

  “Oh, I’ve been in your shoes. I’ve been told I wasn’t loud enough, wasn’t out enough, I should take a stand, I should make waves. I’ve been called a bad lesbian, a failure. And you know what I needed all the while?”

  “No,” Liddy said. “What?”

  Releasing the girl’s fine breasts, Gemma took a step back. She lifted Liddy’s hips, encouraging the girl to stand and straddle the chair. She couldn’t wait. She gave that bum a good smack.

  Liddy jerked forward on the table, knocking over her coffee cup with one of those pendulous swaying breasts. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she cried, reacting to the spillage but not at all to the spanking. “I’ll clean it up. Let me get some paper towel.”

  “Stop,” Gemma instructed before Liddy could get too far from the table. “Leave it for later.”

  “But…”

  “I said leave it,” Gemma repeated. “Who is the partner and who is the junior?”

  Liddy stared at her, those thick lashes black fans over fawning green eyes. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, receding into straggly waves as they feathered her paper white breasts. When her full lips parted, it was simply to say, “I’m sorry.”