***
Ellie dumped bulging carrier bags on her kitchen table, relieved her Friday night shopping was done. She’d fought her way through the crowds, squeezed herself on to the Tube and now she was reaching for the kettle as the phone rang.
“But you can’t do this to me,” she wailed. “What do you mean; you’re going away for the weekend? I’ve got enough food to feed a family here. What about Ben?”
“Brent,” corrected Fleur. “I’ve rung him and sweet-talked him. He’ll survive. It won’t hurt him to simmer for a while.”
“Huh,” said Ellie. “I shouldn’t let you get away with this.”
But there was no way to deter her sister. “This is too good to miss,” Fleur insisted. “Matt’s got the company jet and we’re flying to Paris. I’ll be back on Monday night. He says I’ll be a great help.”
“I’ll bet! Matt who? You’ve never mentioned him before. Can we hold the dinner over till Monday then?”
“I don’t think so, Ellie. You invite someone to help eat it. What about that nice guy you work with? You might even get a shag. Look, I promise I’ll settle up with you. Now I must go. We take off at 6.00 pm. And I don’t just mean the plane! Au Revoir, little sister.”
Ellie hung up, feeling her cheeks grow hot. Bitch. Talk about crumbs from the rich woman’s table. Whatever happened - if Fleur came back, expecting a rematch for this Matt guy, she’d be out of luck - sisterly loyalty or not.
As she stowed away the groceries, she wondered who might like to share a gourmet supper with her. Who else would be dateless on a Saturday night? Ellie knew just the man she’d like to invite. But would he read too much into the invitation? As far as she knew, he was single and unattached. If he turned down her invitation, she’d at least know her charms were wasted on him. She reached for her mobile and searched for his number.
“So, the quenelles won. Excellent - never could see the point of cold soup. And I can’t wait to have my wicked way with the Beef Wellington,” said Gavin. “Ellie, I do believe you’re blushing.”
“Sometimes I wish your memory wasn’t quite as good as it is,” she said. “This red you brought - it’s fabulous. Where did you get it?”
He raised his glass to her. “I asked my wine merchant to select a cunning little rioja, something suitable for a seduction.”
He saw her face change and wished he hadn’t been so crass. “I’m sorry, Ellie,” he said. “I’m flattered you invited me. Now tell me why your sister called off her dinner party. I suppose I ought to feel sorry for the guy who should be eating these quenelles.”
As Ellie revealed just what a minx her elder sister was, for one moment she wondered if Gavin would think she was hinting she wanted sex with him. But, as she relaxed and saw he was relaxing too, she stopped worrying and started having fun.
Then he apologised for taking off his tie.
“Come on, Gavin. It’s Saturday night. You needn’t have dressed up to come and eat a meal with me.” She placed another succulent slice of Beef Wellington on his plate.
He watched the rich juices leak into the short crust pastry and shifted in his chair. “Ellie this meal’s a blast. And, ever since you described it to me the other evening, I…”
He saw how beautiful her hair looked once it could tumble over her shapely shoulders. And that clingy, low cut blouse showed off her gorgeous curves. Suddenly he wished he could scoop her into his arms and carry her off somewhere - preferably a room with an enormous bed and a sign on the door saying Do Not Disturb.
When Ellie had rung his mobile and told him she needed someone to help eat a gourmet dinner he’d felt a ridiculous surge of joy. “Um, okay,” he’d said. “I think I can change my plans.”
He’d found it difficult to make it sound as if he was doing her a favour by foregoing a take-out for one, a couple of cans and Sky Plus.
Ellie was amazed how well the evening was going despite the fact she’d thought Gavin hadn’t sounded enthusiastic about her invitation when she rang that morning. She’d always liked him, respected his reserved manner at work, but lately she’d been wishing he’d invite her out for a drink. He’d never mentioned any significant other.
Now, seeing him with his shirt open-necked and his hair flopping over his forehead, she was obsessed by the thought of his body. She wondered why he was looking at her like that. It was almost as if he felt the same but probably it was just the candlelight cheating her. She sipped her wine, wondering which dessert he’d choose. She’d prepared two, just as she’d originally planned, when selecting the menu for Fleur. Silly really, when she knew that her diet-conscious sister would prefer the meal to end before the desserts made it from the refrigerator.
It seemed Gavin was reading her mind. “You didn’t get round to describing the pudding you decided upon,” he said, topping up her glass.
He was convinced he was going to blow things. He’d wanted to ask Ellie out for a long time but couldn’t bear the thought of rejection. Now, seated opposite her, the reason for this menu was causing him some problems. The seduction strategy originally intended for another guy, was clearly working.
Ellie leaned forward. “I’ll give you the clues. You have to guess.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then you get to wash up,” she said. “Let’s see … this one invites you to strip off its shiny top and discover something cool and vanilla-flavoured beneath. You can hold it in your mouth, feel it melt then slip down your throat.” Her tongue-tip peeped between her lips. “Any ideas?”
Gavin cleared his throat. “How about crème caramel?”
“Very good. The alternative has velvety flesh and a soft, round body. There’s a surprise in the centre. And you might want to lick the dish to suck up all the juices.”
Gavin jumped up, pushing his chair back from the table. He held his linen napkin in front of him. “Ellie, it’s been great,” he said. “I’ve really enjoyed myself. But I think I should go now.”
Ellie was stunned. She’d totally destroyed the mood. Suddenly she realised she didn’t want him to leave. She couldn’t bear him to leave! She was on fire here. It didn’t help either, to think that at this very moment, her sister was doubtless getting good use from her crotchless knickers somewhere in the French capital. Ellie tried to keep her composure. She needed to show she was in control. She needed to show her real feelings for this man.
She looked him straight in the eye. “I’ve been going on about food too much,” she said. “Sorry, Gavin. It was really kind of you to help me out. I realise now, this menu is far too rich. Please don’t rush off. Let me make us some coffee.”
Gavin took a deep breath and she sensed he was weighing up the options.
“Ellie, it’s not the food,” he said. “Quite the reverse. I meant it might be wiser if I went before … before - ”
“Before what?” Ellie’s voice was soft as a peach. Just as he imagined her skin would be if he could only touch it.
“Before dessert,” said Gavin. His feet took a step towards her.
“We could save dessert until tomorrow if you like.”
She spoke so quietly he was afraid he’d misheard her. “For breakfast?” he asked, his fingers reaching out to tuck a strand of honey-colour hair behind her ear. Had he really just said that?
“Is food all you can think of?” she asked. There. Now he’d think she was desperate.
Somehow Gavin’s fingers were stroking Ellie’s hair. It was impossible for him to draw away. “I’ll stay for dessert if you sit at the other side of the room,” he said. “But just at the moment, food’s the last thing on my mind.”
“Then perhaps we should consider another option.” Gently, Ellie removed the crisp white napkin from his grasp. She looked down, determined to make it clear what was on her own mind.
As they moved into one another’s arms, Ellie tilted her mouth, parting her lips slightly. Ready for his kiss. She closed her eyes as soon as Gavin’s lips met hers. Their tongues, demure at first,
began their erotic quest. And Ellie was left in no doubt as to who was taking the initiative.
Gavin’s hands slid under her silky top. His thumbs pushed her bra up and found her nipples. As his fingers whispered over her skin and met no resistance, he gained confidence. Their kiss deepened.
“I want to see you naked,” he said. “I’ve dreamed of undressing you. If you only knew how I’ve longed for you.”
Ellie broke free. She headed for the bedroom. Purposefully. Once inside she lay on the bed. She was still fully dressed. “Gavin,” she called. “Are you ready for the next course?”
When he joined her, he wore just his boxers. And soon her pretty top, her short skirt, red panties and lacy bra were pools of colour on the carpet.
“Tell me what you like,” whispered Gavin.
Ellie’s breathing was ragged. He trailed one finger over her breasts. He looked straight into her eyes and she saw desire but also tenderness. This wasn’t going to be some kind of soulless shag. This was going to be the first time they made love. The first but not the last - of that she had no doubt. And she began telling him just what she wanted him to do to her. They’d wasted enough time.
Ellie knew that her sister would be proud of her. Because the course she and Gavin were about to sample would be the pièce de resistance.
***
In a luxury hotel room near the Eiffel Tower, her sister was being restrained. Unusually for her, she was submitting to Matt’s request. Which meant Fleur was in a frenzy as she lay helpless on the enormous king-size bed with Matt’s huge erection tantalisingly just out of range. Not that it would have mattered how close it was. Fleur was handcuffed and her ankles were bound by a matching black velvet restraint.
Matt was painting her pussy with her own lube. He flicked a soft shaving-brush up and down. His movements were slow and persistent.
Fleur had gone beyond excitement. She was frantic with longing. “Bastard,” she hissed.
“Horny little bitch,” he hissed back. “I’m so going to enjoy watching you struggle to orgasm.”
Fleur closed her eyes. She yearned to spread her legs. She longed for the regular feathery touches on her clitoris to increase in speed and in strength. She longed to be fucked. And still the bittersweet torture continued.
She was sobbing. Whimpering. Jerking her head from side to side on the cool, satin pillow. When he took pity on her by freeing her legs so he could straddle her, she knew she was wet enough for him to slide inside her quickly. But now he was using a sex toy. He was still depriving her of his warm, smooth, erect cock.
She shivered as the cold, hard dildo nudged her pussy lips. As it plunged inside, her body screaming for release, he angled the dildo, making sure it stroked against her hungry clitoris. And Fleur felt herself disintegrate into a million fragments as she raced to orgasm.
As she opened her eyes and saw Matt biting his lower lip in anguish, she smiled triumphantly. This was too good to be just a brief fling. She knew now their relationship was only just beginning.
“Fuck me, lover. Now!” said Fleur in Paris.
Back in London, like Oliver Twist, Ellie was asking for more…
Neighbours
By Harper Bliss
Karen had scored the friendliest amongst Hong Kong cabbies again. He sighed and heaved in the front seat as if he were doing her a huge favour by driving her home. Blocking out the driver’s dramatic antics, she peered out of the window, still getting used to her new commute route. After another spike in rent, Karen had chosen to switch neighbourhoods instead of moving down another few stories in her old building - she had almost been at the lowest floor and nearly out of options. Her new place was a few miles further from the office, but it had one unexpected perk.
One night, on her tiny balcony, when searching for the harbour in between the skyscrapers obstructing an open view, her gaze had drifted to the apartment building on the left. It was the usual grey affair with a yellow glow beaming through the windows, creating a scattered pattern of city light. From the showerheads towering over plastic curtains she’d learned she was watching a column of bathrooms. Except, on the twelfth floor - at least she guessed it was the same floor as hers - the person in the process of showering obviously didn’t believe in curtains. At first, it didn’t fully register, but as her eyes grew wider and her mouth curled into a smile, Karen had realised she was witnessing quite the revealing shower scene.
The woman on the other side of the window, which wasn’t even patterned, lathered soap over her arms, producing white frothy bubbles that stood out against her olive skin. Karen deemed it impossible for the woman not to know that she was on display. The easy conclusion was that she must really enjoy it. At least four other buildings had windows or balconies facing her bathroom. Hundreds of eyes could feast on the way the foam was slipping off the woman’s skin right now. Karen had checked her watch. It was just past eight, around the time half of professional Hong Kong arrived home from work. Apart from an exhibitionist streak, the woman also had excellent timing.
Karen had soon learned that the showering woman was a recurring phenomenon and she found herself drawn to her balcony every time she stepped inside her flat. Some nights, after a rough day in the office dealing with incompetent suppliers, she’d rush home instead of going for the usual after work drinks with her colleague Andy, and could only relax with a glass of wine on her balcony, eyes glued to the illuminated window across from her. Once, when stuck in traffic after a gruelling meeting, she’d gotten out of the cab and half-jogged home to make it in time for the show. She wasn’t exactly proud of it, but Karen felt that her own vices were easily eradicated by the woman’s.
Impatiently waiting for the taxi driver to hand her the receipt, she glanced at her watch. It was ten past eight and the spectacle would soon be over. Karen dashed into her building, ignoring Kermit, the jovial doorman with the unfortunate name, and frantically pushed the elevator button. Once inside the lift she wondered if this sort of behaviour could be placed on the same level as a trivial caffeine addiction or if she should consider professional help.
She stepped onto her balcony just in time to see the lights go out in the woman’s bathroom. With a sigh of desperation she sank down onto the little wooden bench she had solely acquired to rest her weary feet when indulging in the peep show across the road. Karen didn’t always make it in time and neither did the star player in what had become one of her liveliest fantasies of late. The woman showed up in her window often enough to keep the momentum going and build hope for the next day, but she didn’t stick to a rigid schedule. This fact filled Karen with hope because it meant the woman was just a human being like her, with a job and a calendar bursting at the seams. Even though she did seem to prioritise personal hygiene over other activities, like watching the eight o’clock news.
There’s always tomorrow, Karen thought and retreated back into the living room. Her stomach grumbled and as she reached for her phone to order food, it started ringing, Andy’s name blinking for attention.
“Are you coming or what?”
“Excuse me?” Karen had rushed out of the office, barely saying goodbye to anyone, eager to get home. She’d had a rough week and had been looking forward to the Friday night showing more than ever.
“Deborah’s party. Almost everyone is here.” Andy sighed. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
“Of course not,” Karen lied. Her mind had been a bit preoccupied lately. “I was just about to call you to get the address. I seem to have lost it.”
“You’ve lost it all right,” Andy scolded her. “Her building’s right next to yours. Twelfth floor, apartment A.”
When Karen entered the lobby it hit her. This was the building to her left when she stood on her balcony. Her finger trembled when she pushed the button for the twelfth floor. She couldn’t help but feel closer to the woman, even though, realistically, ogling her from across the street was probably as close as she would ever get. Before ringing Deborah’s bell she looked aro
und for the apartment that faced hers. Her eyes landed on flat C across the hall. Adrenalin surged through her veins as Karen stood there, her feet unable to move and her mouth going dry.
“Are you coming in?” Andy, always the gentle soul, yanked the door open.
Karen took a deep breath and entered the apartment.
“What’s wrong with you, anyway?” Andy asked.
“Nothing a few glasses of wine can’t fix.”
Karen found Deborah and handed her the bottle of sauvignon blanc she brought. Most people present were work colleagues accompanied by their usual plus-ones. Karen did notice a few unfamiliar faces but, at first glance, no one seemed suitable to attend to the growing ache inside of her. Since she had started shamelessly indulging in a resident of this very building’s shower scenes, certain needs had gone unmet, and she was always on the lookout for someone to quench her thirst.
“Is everyone here?” Andy asked Deborah. “I’ve prepared a little something.”
Deborah scanned the living room. “We’re just missing my neighbour, but she’s always late.” Just then the bell rang. “Speak of the devil.”
Karen stood closest to the door. “I’ll get it.” She opened the door and, with clothes on, the woman looked almost unrecognisable. Karen had to swallow before she could speak. “Come in.”
The woman pinned her eyes on Karen, narrowing them. “Have we met? You look familiar.”
“I’m not sure.” Karen extended her hand. “Karen, Deborah’s coworker.”
“Joan.” The woman slipped her fingers against Karen’s. Her skin felt soft and tender. Must be from all that soaping up, Karen thought. “Neighbour.” She squeezed Karen’s hand firmly. “Pleasure.”
Andy’s speech and the cutting of the cake happened in a haze. Karen only had eyes for Joan. She wore tight jeans with a blue halter-top and now that Karen had the privilege of standing so close to Joan’s exposed shoulders she found herself unable to engage in fluent conversation. Everyone else in the room paled now Joan was there. They all blended into the walls and the words coming out of their mouths held no more interest for Karen. Joan’s pitch-black hair was tied together in a low ponytail and the sight of it transported Karen’s thoughts to the black mound of pubic hair she’d so often seen drenched in foam.
Smut in the City (Absolute Erotica) Page 16