Best Women's Erotica 2010

by Violet Blue

  The next evening when she came home from work, she found her sandals neatly placed by her back door along with a shallow wicker basket mounded with small, jewel-bright tomatoes. Her delight over the tomatoes was tempered by the feeling that she had been caught in the act. Certainly Todd had to wonder at the coincidence of her strappy sandals on his back porch and his poor, wallowed carrots.

  From where she stood at the window she could see Todd, in his usual skimpy gardening attire, hoeing weeds. She fumbled in the drawer and found the bird-watching binoculars her sister had forgotten when she helped her move in. Suddenly she had a close-up view of the play of muscles along his arms and shoulders as he pulled the hoe. She relished the way his buttocks in their revealing shorts tightened each time he struggled with a particularly tough weed. Then he turned his attention to the carrots, caressing the broken fronds, scratching his head and looking around for clues of what had happened. With the help of the binoculars, she got an enhanced view of his package, which bulged and rippled beneath the shorts just enough to make her fantasize about what he would be like when he was aroused.

  Her clothes ended up in a heap on the kitchen floor, and she was well entertained watching Todd garden, while she sloppily ate tomatoes, letting the juice dribble onto her breasts and belly, watching him stroke and caress his vegetables. She wondered if he’d do the same to his cock when he was back inside his house. She wished desperately she could watch.

  The last thing he did was weed the zucchini plant with its beautiful zucchini penis straining upward toward his hand. She held her breath, fearing he would pick it, but he didn’t. He only gave it a stroke, then turned back to the house.

  In the morning, when she was sure Todd had left for work, she returned the basket generously laden with luscious, thickly iced carrot cake. She considered it payment in advance. As she sat the basket in front of his door, she gave the erect zucchini a knowing smile, and her pussy clenched at the thought of something so thick, so outrageous, fucking her. She tiptoed into the garden, carefully reaching out a hand to stroke the smooth green skin, now warming in the morning sun. A quick look around told her there were plenty of other zucchinis. Surely Todd wouldn’t miss just one.

  She was tempted to take it now, after all she had paid for it, sort of. But she needed to go to work, and somehow taking it home to the un-gardenlike environment of her house before they could get properly acquainted felt like having sex before the first date. She gave it one last fondle and rushed off to work.

  It rained that evening. Beth watched in frustration as the rain battered the leaves of the zucchini plant. The only vegetables in her house were a head of romaine lettuce, well past its sell-by date, and a few shriveled potatoes.

  How pathetic was it that she had planned her entire evening around a sexual encounter with a vegetable? She tried to occupy her time with other things. The kitchen needed cleaning, and the stack of junk mail that had accumulated like a growing avalanche on the kitchen counter needed sorting. But she couldn’t keep her mind off Todd’s phallic vegetables. Did Todd grow them because he liked them? What if she wasn’t the only one using his garden to harvest sex toys? What if Todd liked it up the ass?

  She could easily imagine him giving a carrot a good slick coating of saliva, easing the crotch of his shorts aside, then plunging it into his tight, protesting pucker. It might hurt a little, and he might shudder with the pain of it. But no doubt the pleasure would quickly overcome the pain. And his cock would get hard, so hard that the seams of the shorts would be stressed to the max, and he would be forced to slip them down over the half-dome muscles of his ass and shed them between the rows of vegetables. There he would stand, thrusting and tugging and grunting until he shot his viscous wad arching into the foliage and onto the soft loam.

  That was it. Rain or not, she had to have the zucchini. A double check reassured her that Todd wasn’t home. Quickly she slipped into a loose-fitting sundress and nothing else.

  The rain was coming down in sheets, and dusk was just beginning to fall. The mud squish-squished between her toes, and she slipped and slid precariously down between the rows, nearly belly flopping in front of the zucchini plant, which seemed somehow taller, more intimidating in the rain. But the object of her affection was within her grasp, straining upward toward her hand.

  Her clothes clung to her in the downpour, her breasts and her pubis and ass were well-defined in the clingy, nearly transparent dress. She grasped the zucchini as though it were Todd’s erection, then with a gentle tug and a twist, she felt it come away from the plant, felt the heavy weight of it in her hand, the girth of it like an open challenge to her gushing slit.

  The zucchini was wet with rain and cool enough to cause a sharp intake of breath as she lifted one leg onto the overturned wheelbarrow and spread her lips, not able to wait for veggie foreplay. She positioned herself in a half squat, shoved her wet dress aside, then grunted and pushed herself onto the unyielding vegetable, one painful centimeter at a time, whimpering as the zucchini stretched her protesting cunt, the pressure deliciously agonizing. She had never had anything so thick in her pussy before. She wasn’t even sure she could accommodate such a stretch, but she squatted deeper in an effort to make more room.

  The rain intensified and she stood in the mud wriggling and groaning her way onto the insistent zucchini, oblivious to the chill or the drenching, aware only of the fullness she felt pressing up into her, as though she had taken the whole of Todd’s garden inside her stretched, aching pussy.

  When she was fully impaled, she came quickly. Her whole body shuddered, then quaked, and she dropped to her knees trembling and gasping from the enormous effort to accommodate the zucchini, now firmly grasped in her pussy.

  Before she could recover, she heard Todd’s car pull into the drive. With her heart in her throat, she extracted her new best friend from her abused slit and made a dash across the yard to her house. But not before the heavy ridged cucumber caught her eye. And she knew she’d be back.

  In the morning she woke stiff and sore from her night’s pleasuring. She walked carefully about the kitchen preparing flour, eggs, cinnamon, sugar. Then she had one last ride on the zucchini before she made up the zucchini bread. When it was done, she slipped across the yard and left a fragrant, foil-wrapped loaf on Todd’s porch.

  All that day she tried to convince herself that she should wait awhile before she visited his garden again. After all, she had nearly gotten caught in the act with the zucchini. She told herself that if she let the anticipation titillate her, the pleasure would be even more intense. But she had never been much for delayed gratification. Besides she couldn’t keep her mind off the lovely, engorged cucumber weighing down its vine, waiting for her. Anyway, what was one cucumber between good neighbors?

  She waited impatiently all Saturday morning for Todd to leave the house. When she saw his car finally pull out of the driveway late in the afternoon, she wasted no time. Who knew how long he’d be away. It didn’t matter. She was obsessed. She had to know what the cucumber felt like.

  She threw on a loose minidress that buttoned down the front and barely covered her ass. Once in Todd’s garden, she unbuttoned the top of the dress and slipped it off her shoulders until she could cup and caress her tits and tug at her nipples, all the while taking in the rank summer scent of things growing, a scent very similar to the smell of sex. Her pussy was slippery just from the thought of what she was about to do, and her swollen lips yielded to her probing fingers. As she admired the cucumber, her clit marbled in anticipation, and she gushed at the thought of what a bad girl she was. She slipped two, then three fingers into her grasping cunt, remembering the girth of the zucchini and figuring the cucumber was similar in size. This time she would not approach such a formidable vegetable without a little foreplay.

  When she was ready and aching to be filled, she reached out a trembling hand for the cucumber, then winced and drew back quickly. The damn thing was rough, prickly, almost spiny. A little pain was
one thing, but she hadn’t anticipated this. She looked around at the carrots and zucchinis. Any other time they would have been perfect for her needs, but not now. She had her heart set on the cucumber.

  “Well, this certainly explains a lot.”

  She yelped her surprise and turned to find Todd standing right behind her in his gardening attire, his arms folded across his bare chest, his gaze lingering over her exposed breasts and her hand still buried beneath her dress. She couldn’t help noticing the way his shorts tented around a growing erection.

  “The carrot cake, the zucchini bread, they were both delicious, but they were made from stolen veg, weren’t they?” The fingers of his right hand tap-tapped against the bicep of his left arm. “I’m willing to bet you fucked my vegetables before you baked them, didn’t you?”

  She nodded from beneath a heavy blush. There was no use denying the obvious.

  He clucked his tongue. “You’re a very naughty girl.” Without taking his eyes off her, he reached down and pulled up a slender carrot, then ran the foliage through the curved fingers of one hand, slowly shaking his head. Before she could attempt an apology, he stepped forward abruptly and brought the fronds down with a stinging whoosh across her erect nipples. She jumped and gasped. The pungent scent of carrot greens competed with the smell of her sex.

  “Naughty girls, girls who fuck stolen vegetables, need to be punished. Bend over.” He turned her around, and placed her hands on the upturned wheelbarrow for support, which forced her bottom into the air. Then he shoved her skirt up over her hips, lingering to caress her asscheeks and slide a solicitous thumb down the length of her cleft. Before she had time to fully appreciate his fondling, he brought the carrot fronds down with a brisk smack across her bottom, and she yelped.

  “I’ll teach you to fuck my vegetables without telling me.” He brought down his makeshift whip again. This time she only moaned and wriggled her bottom, spreading her legs, wanting him to see what his punishment was doing to her drenched pout.

  He couldn’t help but notice how swollen and slippery she was, and as he brought the fronds down again, he buried a finger in her cunt, then brought it to his lips, flicking his tongue like a cat lapping cream. “Mmm, I think I’ve discovered the secret ingredient to your delicious baked goods.”

  He smacked her one last time, then she heard him spit. She peeked over her shoulder to see him rubbing the carrot with his saliva, and without warning, he parted her stinging buttocks and eased the tip of the carrot into her puckering anus. “I picked this one a little too early,” he said. “It needs to go back in the hole.” With that he gave the probing carrot a shove.

  She cried out in shock at the surprise invasion. The pain quickly transformed to pleasure intense enough to catapult her into orgasm as he thrust the vegetable in and out of her clenching anus.

  He chuckled satisfaction. “I’ve never known anyone with such a unique appreciation for my garden, and I can make you appreciate it even more.” He bent forward and nibbled her earlobe. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  He left her in an undignified position, bent over the upturned wheelbarrow with a carrot buried up her ass. But her need was so intense that dignity was the last thing on her mind. She tugged and tweaked her clit, dipping her fingers in and out of her still spasming gash.

  He returned quickly and slapped her hands away. “Naughty little vegetable thieves don’t get to play with their pussies. They have to make amends to the gardener.” He fondled the foliage trailing from her asshole. “Besides, we both know you want more than fingers in your cunt. That’s why you came to my garden.”

  She watched while he picked the heavy cucumber from its vine, oblivious to its rough surface. “Some vegetables need a little preparation before they’re ready to be enjoyed.” He rubbed off the spine-like protrusions with his thumb. Then he took a Swiss Army knife and methodically peeled back the skin, filling the air with the rainwater scent of cucumber. He peeled until the bare fruit was exposed all except for the bit in his hand, then he inspected his efforts. “There now, that should do the trick.”

  Her mouth watered at the sight, and her pussy tingled. She spread her legs in anticipation, clenching her asscheeks around her full anus.

  He rubbed the cool wetness of the cucumber over her nipples, then suckled each of them in turn before he moved behind her. “You want my cucumber in your pussy, don’t you?” He ran it down from just below her anus, over her parted lips and circled her straining clit.

  She moaned and spread her legs farther.

  “As bad as you are, I don’t know if I should give you what you want.” He circled her clit again and maneuvered the moist firm tip of the veg so it teased apart her lips, but didn’t quite penetrate. Then he pulled it back, and when she struggled to push onto it, he smacked her bottom with the flat of his hand.

  “Such a nasty girl.”

  “Please. Please put it in me.” She rose on her toes until her calves burned in her effort to get closer to the tantalizing cucumber. The carrot foliage swished against her ass like a horse’s tail, making her feel like a mare in heat desperate to be mounted.

  “You must be so uncomfortable with your cunny all swollen and pouting. Poor dirty girl.” He slipped the cucumber into her just enough for her pussy to grip at it, then withdrew it again.

  “Please! I need it,” she sobbed in frustration. “Oh, please put it in me.”

  Without another word, he shoved the cucumber home, and it was at least as big as the zucchini, stretching her pussy and lubricating her with its fragrant juices. Todd thrust both the carrot and the cucumber in rhythm until Beth was grinding and pushing back against him with all her might, growling and clawing at the wheelbarrow with each accelerating thrust.

  In a frenzied move, he yanked the cucumber from her pussy, and her sex-crazed mind barely registered the tearing of a condom wrapper. “You need more than vegetables for a healthy diet.”

  She never saw his cock, but she sure as hell felt it as he shoved into her, manipulating the carrot as he did so. Suddenly she knew—cucumber or zucchini, there was no comparison to the real thing. His full balls slapped her ass with each thrust. He fondled her breasts, stroked her clit, cupped her pubis, then eased back, always keeping her just on the edge of orgasm, feeling full beyond full and ready to burst. As he hammered into her, his body felt as though it would shatter against her with the intensity of his own need, building and straining toward his release, until at last he grunted in her ear, “I can’t hold back much longer.”

  “Then do it!” she hissed between clenched teeth.

  He thrust until she thought he would split her in two, forcing the air from her lungs, causing joints to crack, and she rode him back, unrelenting until she felt his cock convulse. With a loud groan, he yanked the carrot from her anus, and orgasm juddered through her like an earthquake. She cried out and bucked back against him in a frenzy until he lost his balance and they both landed in the dirt, writhing on the ground between the carrots and the zucchini.

  For a long time they didn’t move; they just struggled to breathe, lying in the warm summer earth, covered in dirt and sweat and come; then he stood, took her hand and led her in to his shower.

  As she soaped and caressed his cock, she observed he was neither like a zucchini nor a carrot. More like a banana, actually.

  He moaned his pleasure at her touch and curled his fingers in her hair. “It’s nice to finally find someone who appreciates a good vegetable garden.”

  She smiled up at him. “I’m really glad to hear that, because I’m counting on you to help me get my five-a-day.” She rinsed his cock, then knelt and took him into her mouth. Vegetables were great, but it was exceptionally yummy to have meat on the menu again.

  FUCK THE FANTASY

  Loz McKeen

  The object of my fantasies for a good decade or so was Sean Burgen, though I only ever thought of him as Mr. Burgen. Mr. Burgen was a martial arts instructor and no pinup boy. No sir. But then, I ne
ver had shown interest in men who were “cute,” or “hunky.” When friends were plastering their walls with dimply little Corey Haim, I was perched on my windowsill, ogling the sunburnt laborer working on the house next door. When we were older, and the others were gurgling over Tom Cruise, it was Colonel Nathan Jessup that got my juices flowing. So naturally, the man who fueled and sustained my nightly fondling all through my teens and on into my twenties would have to be something special. And the eventual trigger, the event that finally dragged him from pure fingering fiction into red-hot real life, is definitely worth writing about.

  It was all Marty’s fault. The stupid bastard had hit me too hard, too often, and I was sick of it. I had put up with it for a while, but enough was enough. I was hanging around after class, and the minute the others were gone, I was going straight to the boss to dob.

  Let me explain something. A good fighter doesn’t need to hurt you to humble you. A good fighter will evade your kicks or brush them aside, and you wonder how it is that you finish the round in a lather of sweat and he is a picture of serenity. Marty and I and a core group of students had been training hard in the lead-up to the National Titles. Competition fighting is artificial. The aim is not to hurt or disable your opponent, but simply to score a point. Marty, on the other hand, was missing the point altogether. Not only was he attacking too hard, but he was defending too hard as well. My forearms and shins were multicolored from fending him off. The guy needed an attitude adjustment, and I knew just the man to give it to him.