Best Erotic Romance 2013

by Kristina Wright

  When Carli wasn’t fertile, we fucked like weasels. Two, three, four times a day, though now that I was getting older it had been a while since four had happened. Now, when she straddled me, it was usually on the bed, after she’d massaged my whole body with hers then sucked me until I was ready to explode.

  Today, though, I couldn’t have her. Carli was ovulating. If her temperature and the other indicators hadn’t told us, the glow in her face would have been a dead giveaway. That, and the way she’d subconsciously squeezed her legs together when she leaned against the wall talking on the phone that morning, her nipples pebbling at the slight waft of cold air when the kids opened the front door. Carli got so horny when she was ovulating. I could smell her musk, even in church, even when I was corralling the kids and talking to the priest and it was totally inappropriate for me to be thinking how good my wife’s pussy tasted. I couldn’t wait for night to come. Maybe tonight I’d stay awake long enough to lick her until she screamed. I’d yet to find a serious Biblical prohibition against eating my wife’s pussy.

  “Earth to Michael! May we take the kids to a movie today?”

  Totally disoriented, I stared down into my mother’s laughing face. She was waving her heavily ringed fingers in front of my nose. I stole a glance at Carli, who winked. My face heated at the sudden possibility of having my wife to myself all afternoon. Mom squeezed my arm.

  “Carli says she doesn’t mind, as long as Meggie gets her nap. So if you don’t have any objections, we’ll bring them back at dinnertime. Don, catch her please!”

  “Yes, ma’am!” My dad laughed. He held out his arms and Meggie, squealing, detoured from trying to knock over a pile of church bulletins and let herself be hoisted into the air and twirled around. As the two of them waved and headed off toward the parking lot, I muttered, “Sure,” and Mom gave me a meaningful look.

  “You two need some time together. You work too hard—both of you.” With a quick kiss to my cheek, she stepped back, then kissed Carli and strode off to help my dad collect the boys. Carli walked over and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

  “She saw you looking at me, and she wants more grandchildren, hot stuff.” Carli rubbed subtly against me as people continued to flow out of the church and past us. I was instantly hard, and I knew she knew it, though I was horrified at the idea of my mother knowing what I was thinking. Carli laughed softly.

  “Don’t worry, she didn’t say anything specific.” Carli wrapped her arm around mine as she turned us toward the parking lot. “She and your dad just exchanged one of those looks—you know, the look that got you five brothers.”

  My face heated again as she surreptitiously pressed her breast against my forearm. Once more, I was thankful for my heavy winter coat. My cock couldn’t decide if it wanted to deflate at the whole idea of my parents knowing how badly I wanted to have sex with my wife—and at the thought of how I’d gotten so many brothers—or if it wanted to get even harder remembering each of the times Carli had gotten pregnant. My hard-on won. As the wetness on my underwear pressed against my cock tip, though, I once more stopped and stepped back, this time to the edge of the sidewalk.

  “Another baby?” I asked quietly. Part of me wanted to scream, yes, yes, YES! But a very loud voice that wasn’t being governed by my throbbing cock was asking that question in a much more serious tone. Carli’s eyes sparkled warmly as she reached up to rub her mittened hand over the side of my cheek.

  “Part of me would love to have another baby with you, Michael,” she said quietly, standing on tiptoe to kiss me. I held her closely, vaguely remembering that day so long ago when people had also been clearing their throats and laughing as they walked past us. But this time, Carli pulled back and stared seriously up into my eyes. “We’ve talked about this, though, when our libidos weren’t screaming quite as loudly as they are right now. Is that really what we want to do?”

  Carli’s face was flushed with how turned on she was. My cock was so hard I hurt. But she was right. I shook my head, willing my cock to behave, trying to think about anything but how much I wanted my wife naked and reaching for me. I lost the battle when she leaned up and whispered in my ear.

  “How about we go home and indulge in some good, hot ‘alternative lovemaking’ that won’t get me pregnant? I want you to lick my pussy so bad.”

  Once more, I fought to keep from coming. I choked out, “Yes, ma’am!” and let her lead me to the car.

  Carli drove. She said she figured I’d get a ticket. She was right. I would have figured it was worth it, even though by now, I knew all the cops in town, and I would have heard about it for nine months and then some afterward.

  We took our coats off this time, but Carli and I still didn’t make it upstairs. We had a bigger house now, two stories, and over the years we’d made love in every room. I kicked the front door closed and threw my coat on the thickly carpeted steps. Then I stripped my wife naked, kissing my way down her neck and shoulders as I slowly unzipped her dress and pulled it down to her waist. I slid the top of her slip down and lapped across the tops of her breasts, dampening the lacy cups covering her hard nipples. She sighed contentedly when I released the catch of her bra. Her breasts fell warm and heavy into my hands. Her nipples were larger and darker now, the tips longer and so much more sensitive on my tongue than they had been before the babies.

  “Harder,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around my head as she stepped out of her shoes. She moved up onto the stairs, her feet sliding on the satin lining of my coat as she situated herself so I wouldn’t have to bend my neck. “That feels so good, Mike. It makes me so hot.” She pressed her chest to my face, moaning as I licked slowly over to the other breast and sucked the whole areola into my mouth.

  Her groan of pleasure had my cock ready to split my pants. I suckled one side, then the other, back and forth, smiling as she held my head ferociously to her. I slowly worked her dress and slip over her hips. She was wearing lace-topped, thigh-high stockings rather than panty hose. I hadn’t thought my cock could get harder, but it did as I peeled her panties from her hips and let them drop over the lacy bands.

  “You’ll have to lie down for me to get your stockings off,” I growled against her, nipping her swollen nipple as I ran my hands down her silky thighs.

  “You’re pretty overdressed, yourself, pal.” She arched an eyebrow at me when I shook my head.

  “If I take my pants off now, you’re going to get pregnant,” I said, my chest heaving as my cock strained against my pants. I eased her down onto my overcoat. “Spread your legs and come for me, woman. I want to feel you orgasm under my tongue.”

  Carli leaned back on the stairs, giving me a sultry look as she opened her legs wide. She grabbed a rung of the banister in one hand. With the other hand, she rubbed her pussy. Her dark pubic hair glistened with her juices. She touched her finger to the apex of her slit and shivered hard.

  “Put your tongue on my pussy, Michael. I want you to lick me—right here.”

  With a loud groan, I sank to the stairs and lowered my head between her thighs. Carli knew how much her talking dirty turned me on. Her musk filled my nostrils as I nuzzled her slippery pussy lips. I licked her juices from her while Carli leaned back against the stairs, her fingers sliding from her crotch to dig into the carpet. She moaned and raised her legs. I turned my head and kissed her thigh, peeling a stocking off and dropping it onto the floor. Then I took the other one off.

  “I don’t want you wearing anything but your wedding rings,” I growled, feasting my eyes on the sight of her flushed, curvy body. Her eyes glowed. Her well-sucked nipples perked up wet and dark and hard. Her glistening pussy quivered, waiting for me to eat her into ecstasy. I sank down onto the staircase, my cock once again pressing desperately into my precum-wet briefs and the edge of the stair. I lifted her thighs to my shoulders and spread her legs as wide as I could. Then I buried my face in my wife’s pussy and commenced to eating her to my heart’s content.

  It felt good to be
able to be loud. I growled and demanded, slurping as I told Carli in graphic detail the things I usually had to whisper, how I loved the smell and taste of her pussy, how I loved licking inside her to slurp her slippery juices, that I knew they were flowing to ease the way for my cock, even though today she was only going to get my tongue and fingers. I flicked the little nub that made her shake and cry out, licking until my tongue was almost numb, then panting against her as my fingers, two and then three and then four, pressed deep into her, rubbing up toward her belly button. Shortly after Sean was born, Carli had stunned me by blushingly admitting that sometimes, if I pressed just right, she came so hard she could feel her juice shooting out. Once I’d learned where to press, I’d also learned how to position myself so her clear, slippery juice squirted onto my face.

  “Mike!” Carli gasped, arching up so hard she banged her pubic bone on my face. “Yes! Oh, god! I’m going to come!”

  Carli stiffened, keening as the tremors began deep inside her. Grinning, I lowered my head again, flailing her clit as she bucked up, her pussy muscles tightening almost painfully against my hand. She screamed and I sucked her clit into my mouth, still flicking mercilessly as I ground my cock against the carpeting and pressed my fingers up harder inside her. As the next scream left her lips, her juices spurted onto my chin.

  I came in my pants. I rocked helplessly against the stairs, sucking Carli’s clit and fucking her with my fingers until she finally pushed my face away. I kept my fingers in her though, pressing and rocking until she groaned and quivered again, her pussy once more spasming quietly over my hand. She tenderly pulled me up to her and kissed my face until I tasted her juices on her tongue.

  We left my coat and her clothes on the stairs as we shakily took each other’s hands and stumbled into the bedroom. Carli peeled my shirt and socks and my cum-soaked pants from me, laughing as she kissed the tip of my now-quiescent shaft and drew me down onto the sheets with her. I barely remember her pulling the covers over us. I slept like a rock. When we finally woke up, the sun was low in the afternoon sky. We cuddled and talked and laughed. I ate her pussy and she sucked my cock, not enough to get off again, but enough to feel really good and let us both know how hungry we’d be for each other all over again when this month’s fertile cycle had passed. There was just enough time to take a shower and get our clothes off the stairs before the kids came home.

  My parents will be disappointed when there’s no baby nine months from now. And like I said, if there’s an accident somewhere down the line, they’ll have another name to list in the family Bible, with no regrets on our part. No matter what happens, though, I know the passion I share with Carli is the greatest blessing I’ll ever have on earth. I intend to keep nurturing that passion. And if that means I have to deal with hard-ons in church, well, so be it. God gave me Carli to love. I figure He’ll understand.

  GROUNDED

  Nikki Magennis

  Erin arrived first. Her red-eye flight landed hard and ground to a slow halt. She stepped out onto a flat gray desert of tarmac. The air was twelve degrees colder and everything was quiet, the airport still half asleep. Inside the terminal, Erin stashed her case in a locker and then walked circuits round empty lounges and past shuttered shops, trying to work the stiffness out of her legs. It was like wandering in Limbo. A space between destinations, a no-man’s-land. Airports seemed to exist outside of any particular place, but she loved them, felt at ease in their anonymous spaces, unknown and free. Foreign voices echoed around her, as hushed as pigeons’ wings.

  She bought breakfast, a cinnamon wafer and hot, strong coffee, but her appetite dissolved, replaced by a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. Instead, she went to the newsstand and flicked through magazines on the carousel, looking at pictures until the colors blurred: a face painted blue, a crowd at a race, a map of Europe dotted with flags.

  An hour later she watched from behind the plate glass windows as Mark’s flight landed. It was like watching silent movie footage on a vast, blue-tinted screen. He emerged from the plane into the Dutch morning light. The sight of him, six foot, tanned, lithe and weather-roughed made her heart beat double-espresso fast. She got a glimpse of his two-day stubble and crumpled clothes before he disappeared into the walkway, swallowed by another passage, gone from her again.

  She found herself finger-combing her hair and biting her lip, like a teenager.

  “Erin.” His smile was as wide as a sunrise. They crossed the last distance separating them like they were drawn by gravity, and sank into an embrace so tight she could hardly breathe. She pressed her face into the coarse, air-cold folds of his jacket, inhaled all the smells that made her heart ache. Woodsmoke, cut grass, pine. He smelled like spring.

  “God, I missed you,” he said, talking into her hair, his words warm against her scalp. At the sound of his voice she felt her eyes prickle.

  “Me, too,” she said.

  “Oh, babe. Where have you been?”

  “All over the place,” she said. There was so much to say, but then he held her chin and lifted her face to kiss her and it was clear they needed to touch more than they needed to speak. He tasted sweet. His body was hard and insistent against hers. His arms locked around her and held her tight.

  She pulled away, looked around and saw where they were, on a polished floor, in the stream of traffic, taking up space. They’d hardly touched each other but she already felt like she was naked. She coughed.

  “Got a bag?” she asked, her voice a breaking whisper. Did the question even make sense? She was fixed on his eyes, their blue gaze still shocking bright behind half-closed lids. He shrugged one shoulder.

  “Just this.”

  “C’mon.” Her mouth was thick from kissing him. The words bumped against one another. Now, they laced their fingers together and walked over the squeaky, shined floors, past the fragmented groups of people wandering, dazed and sleep scuffed, around the airport, weaving between knots of Japanese tourists, struggling families, scowling businessmen, cabin crew in their bright, tired uniforms, under signs and hanging curtains of LEDs and scrolling announcement boards and arrows pointing in so many different directions. His thumb brushed the pulse spot on her wrist, and it seemed to turn up the volume of her heartbeat. The ambient sounds faded, her pulse became as loud as their footsteps, louder than all the things she wanted to say but couldn’t and didn’t know how to phrase anyway, until it drummed in her head and all she could think of was his bare skin against hers.

  They reached the doorway of the pod hotel where she’d booked a room. “Give me a minute,” she said, pulling out her credit card and trying to find the right slot to swipe it in the check-in machine. Her hands were shaking. Behind her, Mark came up and rested his chin on her shoulder.

  “Stop.”

  “Hmm? I’m not doing anything,” he said, scuffing her neck with the rough scrape of his stubble. Her knees almost buckled and she leaned against the machine with both hands flat on the screen. He laid a tiny, wet kiss on her hairline and she closed her eyes.

  “I can’t work the thing. Come on.”

  “I’ve waited six weeks,” he said, his voice so low it sunk into the carpet. “Okay. Do it. Get us in there. I need you in a room, naked, now.” He backed away, holding his hands up, and she instantly missed the feel of him next to her.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” she said. She typed in her number and got the key. They followed arrows, counting cabin numbers along the corridors, trying not to paw at each other, almost succeeding.

  “In here,” she said, tugging him through a narrow doorway and pulling the door shut behind them. The space was so small a few lungs full of breath would fill it. Against the spotless white walls of the cabin he was so vivid. So real and so close. At last she could inhale him and touch him and feel the different textures of him—his soft hair; the heat of his skin; his wet, hungry mouth.

  She looped her arms round his neck and sagged against him, but he pulled away, placed a hand on her chest.

&
nbsp; “Wait.”

  “More?” she almost laughed, but it caught in her throat. “Fuck, Mark.”

  He wasn’t smiling.

  “I’ve got something in mind.” He slipped his rucksack off his back and pushed into her hands. “Open it.”

  Erin frowned. She didn’t want gifts. They’d agreed. She had to travel light. “What is this?”

  Mark stayed silent. She shook her head and unzipped the bag. Reaching inside, her hand met something cool and silk slippery. Rope. She pulled out a length of long, black cord, wrapped around her hand like a waiting snake.

  “Mark?” She looked inside the bag. At the bottom was a box of condoms and a small tube of lube. Nothing else.

  She paused. She wanted to smile but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Her hands swarmed with the need for him. “Drop it on the bed,” Mark said, indicating the rope. She did as he asked.

  “I’m going to undress you,” he said, moving toward her and tugging at her buttons. Somehow, she was rooted to the spot. “Let me.” He undid her steadily, tugging her arms free and throwing her jacket on the floor as if it was dirty laundry. “Good,” he nodded, at her mute assent. Now he gripped her arms.

  “If you want me to stop say so, okay?”

  She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She nodded.

  He continued to strip her: shirt, vest, chinos, roughly peeled off and discarded. Erin felt like her breath was too loud. She wanted to swallow but somehow felt embarrassed. “Mark,” she said at last, “please kiss me.”

  He laughed.

  “It’s been so long. This isn’t fair.”

  “Really? You ought to be used to going without. Told me to enjoy the anticipation, remember?”

  Erin moaned. “You’re punishing me.”

  “Not yet.” Now he unbuttoned the top of his jeans. His cock sprang from his fly, thick and stiff. Then he pulled his shirt over his head, and she got a face full of his scent—shower gel spice tinged with fresh sweat. He was beautiful. She hadn’t forgotten, but the sight still left her reeling: his work-taut body, always restless, always in motion. The drift of black hair that clung to his chest and crept down his stomach, spreading as it disappeared into his jeans. And his coolness, his ease in his own skin. Nothing ever seemed to faze him. As he came up hands-reach close only a twitch of his pretty red lips showed any reaction to her proximity, or her near nakedness.