Blushed and Flushed: 12 erotic short stories for women

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Blushed and Flushed: 12 erotic short stories for women Page 3

by Maria Diamante


  The thought of being desired made her feel good and she didn’t want him to stop touching her. His hand was now running up and down along the damp gusset of the thong, his finger pushing the fabric into her cleft. She didn’t want to risk him removing his hand, but she couldn’t open her legs any wider without his knowing she was awake.

  He now pushed aside the thong and hesitated for a moment before his finger came to rest against her skin. She felt herself grow wet and wanted to grab his hand. Instead she held her breath and moved her hips against his hand. He increased the pressure of his finger running up and down along her lips, dipping slightly into her core to feel her wetness.

  He lightly rubbed his thumb against her clitoris and Andrea could no longer fake sleep and moaned loudly at the intense sensation. She opened her eyes to find James staring down at her with piercing eyes and she thrust her hips up against his hand, daring him to continue.

  She took his wrist with her hand and slowly guided his fingers inside her. James then moved his other hand back to her breast, kneading and rubbing her skin and pulling on her nipple. Andrea gave up all semblance of sleep and allowed herself to fall into the sensations he was causing. She gyrated her hips and breathed heavily, arching her back to press more of her breast into his hand, inviting him to explore her body.

  James removed his hands from her for a matter of seconds to roughly hook her thong in his fingers and pull it down her legs. Once removed, he took her thighs and opened her widely. Leaving her open and vulnerable to him, he leaned over and put his face up close to her, inhaling her scent. Hypnotized by the glistening evidence of her arousal, he put his tongue on her.

  She gasped loudly and put her hands on his dark hair, holding his head against her body, rolling her hips in time to his lapping. Breathing heavily, as James licked and tasted her greedily, she felt the first hint of orgasm start to build.

  Andrea didn’t allow herself to think of anything but the feeling of his mouth on her skin and she moaned as she felt the release begin in her body. He felt her tense and quickened his motions until she cried out and thrust hard against him. He kept licking her until he felt the orgasm subside and then stood up and looked down at her heaving body.

  She was panting, flushed across her face and chest and her nipple was still erect, lying outside her dress as it had when James first approached her. Their eyes locked, and Andrea pushed her breast back into her dress, lowered the hem and crossed her legs at the ankles.

  She smiled at James then turned her back and picked up the book she was reading. His erection evident, James stood still for a moment waiting for her next move. But her now covered body declared there would be no reciprocation. He turned and walked back to the cottage.

  Andrea heard the door slam shut as James entered the cottage. It was not a slam of dismissal. The breeze had caught the door and closed it firmly behind him as a symbol of finality.

  Solo Journey

  Brenda had vacationed in the Caribbean before, but never alone. She had always traveled with a girlfriend, a boyfriend, or for the past 16 years, with her now ex-husband.

  On the day her divorce was finalized, Brenda impulsively called her travel agent and booked a holiday in a five-star resort on a gorgeous island with endless white-powder sandy beaches and calm turquoise water. She desperately needed to get away.

  Brenda was so excited right up to the point the plane landed. When it came to a stop, feelings of trepidation and regret filled her. What was she thinking?

  She had always felt sorry for lone women she encountered on vacations. She often invited them to dine with her and her companion, and was surprised when they politely declined her offer. Brenda hoped she wouldn’t appear lonely or pathetic to the other vacationers or the staff.

  When the airport shuttle bus pulled up to the resort, she gasped. The resort was stunning. It somehow blended perfectly into the natural scenery of the island, looking like a mixture of splendor and opulence within a wild tropical setting.

  Blossoms of red, purple, pink and yellow danced in the ocean breeze. Up in the palm trees, brightly colored birds flew away when startled. Large iguanas roamed the pathways, along with tiny blue-green geckos.

  Brenda’s room had a marble bathroom, a large balcony and a king-sized four poster bed with plump luxurious pillows and crisp white sheets. She collapsed on it, breathing in the scent of flowers the maids had left as a welcome gift.

  Brenda thought the bed would be so much fun with the right man. But then she gave her head a shake. She was determined to think about anything but men. She had been through so much stress the past few months, much of it caused by her ex.

  She sighed and put on her new bikini, cover-up and sandals. As she slathered sunscreen on her pale white skin, she felt a touch of sadness that she was by herself. The magic and tropical flavour of the resort was supposed to energize her soul. Instead, she quickly discovered it was piquing her libido that had been dormant for months.

  So instead of thoughts of deep personal reflection, all she could think was how she wonderful it would be to be there with a lover. She thought about how they would have sex in the ocean.

  He would help her off with her bikini, or not even bother and push the bikini bottoms to one side underwater so he could reach her pussy without hindrance.

  Brenda spent the day strolling across the resort. She adored the three large pools that were practically empty. The staff were wonderful, greeting her as they approached. She exchanged “hellos” and “olas” and with the other guests, most of whom were couples.

  The resort was adults-only, so there were no children and Brenda noticed only one pair of women. She couldn’t tell if they were sisters, friends or lovers.

  The resort was flanked by two beaches, each one more beautiful than any other beach she had seen in the Caribbean. Powdery white sand, crystal-clear turquoise water, palm trees, pelicans, sea gulls unlike any she had ever seen before. Though it was such a cliché, it really was paradise.

  Brenda lay on her beach chair under a thatched roof umbrella, watching a couple frolic in the calm water. She smiled as the woman squealed when he picked her up and tossed her into an oncoming wave.

  Brenda then went into the water and swam out further than the others. She could still touch the bottom, but she wanted to show off her swimming skills and the fact that she was literally fearless in the ocean.

  A large barracuda glided past her and that fearlessness was put to the test. But it passed when she saw a school of tiny angelfish that curiously swam near her toes.

  Pelicans hovered overhead, landing in the water a few feet away, making Brenda realize she was staring at them with her mouth wide open, awed by the spectacle and feeling very connected to this natural place.

  That night, after a solitary dinner in the Italian-themed restaurant, Brenda returned to her room, walking along dimly lit paths. Crabs scuttled along the sides of the path. Geckos scurried into the bushes.

  Initially unconcerned about being alone at night, she was now reluctant to return to her room. Somehow, more than any other time of day, it signaled that she was truly alone. There was no one to play with in that big bed. No one to rub cream on her back. No one to kiss her before spooning while they slept.

  She wondered if coming here was all a big mistake.

  Brenda got through the night by watching TV until her eyes ached. She drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, waking in the morning to the sound of squawking birds.

  She opened the curtains to her balcony door, and saw humming birds dancing in the bougainvilleas near her balcony. Then looking down, she noticed a visitor. A small cat was sunning itself on her balcony. Brenda approached it and scratched it between the ears.

  Grateful for the attention, the cat rubbed itself against Brenda’s hand, which unexpectedly brought tears to her eyes. She poured some water into a bowl and gave it to the cat that lapped up the water and looked up at Brenda with gratitude. Though not terribly original, she named it “Kitty.”
>
  Throwing on her somewhat damp bikini, with shorts over top and a cover up, she headed to breakfast. It turns out that paradise spiked her appetite as well as her sexual desire.

  A man stood by the buffet, greeting people and Brenda took his outstretched hand and was startled by the blueness of his eyes.

  He was tall, tanned and short-haired, and when he smiled she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her. He held her hand for a moment longer than necessary. Her breathing increased slightly.

  “Hello, I’m James, the General Manager of the resort. How are you enjoying your stay?” he asked Brenda, holding up the line behind her. Brenda smiled brilliantly. “I love it here. The resort is gorgeous and everything is lovely so far,” she replied with almost too much enthusiasm.

  “Wonderful!” replied James, again looking deeply into her eyes with his intense blue ones. He put his hand on Brenda’s forearm to guide her to a table, leaving the other guests standing unattended. She glanced down at his powerful rough hands that gently brushed her skin.

  He seated her, telling her to call or find him if she needed anything. And at that moment, he winked…something Brenda hadn’t seen in years.

  He walked away, but looked back at her, running his eyes down her seated body, lust showing in his eyes before he turned to greet other guests.

  Brenda grinned, appreciative an attractive man showed such blatant sexual interest. Back home, she would have been turned off by such an obvious advance, especially the wink. But here on the island it seemed almost appropriate.

  Although he watched Brenda during her meal, he disappeared before she rose to leave for the beach. She was disappointed. He was sexy in a beach-y kind of way, with cargo pants and a white linen shirt topping his tanned and muscular body.

  She also loved his emerging beard, which was combination of blond, with a little grey. He was such a nice change compared the stuffy suits she dealt with back home. Heck, most of the men she knew had hands more manicured than hers.

  Brenda also couldn’t help noticing he wore a big, masculine, clunky watch made of silver, most likely a diving watch. She bit her bottom lip as she imagined it sliding down his wrist as he pinned her hands above her head…

  She wondered if that muscular tanned framed housed a big thick cock. She felt a tingle in her lower abdomen and envisioned his tanned arms wrapped around her body.

  “Open your eyes!” she scoffed as she walked down the path to the beach. It was her favorite phrase for getting after herself.

  But she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She wondered if he was good in bed. Would he know how to please her? Or would he be like most men and be far more interested in his own needs…like her ex.

  On the beach, Brenda’s wandering thoughts only became more intense. She imagined James with her in the ocean, putting his arms around her in chest-deep water, pulling her close, letting her breasts rub against his hairy chest, feeling her nipples harden against his skin.

  He would lift her and let her wrap her legs around his waist, bringing her pussy directly over his hardening cock, straining to burst through the trunk’s fabric. She would look at his face, seeing his eyes come alive as he grinded against her.

  Each time the beach boy brought her a drink, Brenda quickly sat up, blushed and checked to make sure she wasn’t giving herself away with her thoughts. She gulped down water with lime and the odd pina colada, trying to keep hydrated and cool. She was getting so aroused, she considered pouring one of her drinks over her head.

  Instead, her thoughts paired with the hot sand drove her into the water several times. She began to allow her body to tan more, though she always made sure the sunscreen was close by. The sun and heat made her so aware of her body.

  As the day came to an end, Brenda had one last swim under the setting sun. She watched a lone staffer stack the beach chairs, and he appeared to be the last one around. The beach was hers.

  She lay on her back in the water, letting the sun’s dying rays bake her bikini-clad breasts protruding out of the water.

  She drifted like that, eyes closed, feeling every nerve ending on her skin caressed by the water. She arched her back and moved her arms sensuously in a waving motion, feeling very sexual. She loved the feeling of her body rocking gently with the waves.

  And then, inexplicably, she pulled the material over her breasts to the side, exposing them to the sun.

  Well endowed, Brenda was proud of her breasts and she saw no reason why they too shouldn’t enjoy a little warmth.

  She ran her hands over them, circling around her nipples, caressing the skin of her areola. She cupped them and pointed them towards the sky…

  Turning her head back to shore, she squinted and finally saw James standing against the beach bar, watching her behind dark sunglasses. Where the hell did he come from?

  Brenda scrambled to cover her breasts and in the process, swallowed what felt like half the ocean. She coughed violently and struggled to get upright. By the time she controlled her coughing, she looked to find he had disappeared.

  The next day passed without seeing James and embarrassment now turned to longing. At the beach and at the pool only a few people were around. Most were newlyweds whose public displays of affection bordered on X-rated. There was even a powerful sexual tone among the staff.

  It seemed everyone at this resort was so alive sexually. Sex and passion oozed from every flower, every crashing wave and from literally every person she saw.

  Ordering room service, sitting on her bed, she went to bed watching a documentary about biker gangs. She knew something was wrong when she began touching herself at the sight of burly bikers who prided themselves on smashing beer cans on their heads.

  When she awoke the next morning, she felt the aftermath of an intensely sexual dream. Thankfully, she always remembered her dreams in vivid detail.

  She was having wild, uninhibited sex with a faceless man in full view of the guests in the lobby on one of the luxurious couches.

  Unknown men leaned over the back of the couch to touch and suck her breasts while the man on top of her thrusted inside her. She could hear the talk of the guests, describing what the man was doing to her and voicing their approval.

  When she looked into the man’s face, it was James. His eyes blazing, he started to put his mouth on hers when she woke, dazed, breathing heavily and on the verge of an orgasm.

  “Open your eyes, Brenda!” she told herself as she showered.

  But though the dream was over, the feeling was not.

  Almost helplessly, she guided the hand-held shower head between her legs. She adjusted the showerhead setting and pulsating water massaged her pussy. She rubbed her clit with one hand and placed the showerhead right against her lips.

  Her rubbing quickened and she was stunned just how swollen it was.

  So good was her orgasm, she had to grab on to the shower door to keep her balance. But as she toweled herself dry, a wave of depression struck. Her sexual energy was going to waste on a shower massager.

  She decided that solitude was the best medicine and she went to the farthest point of the most secluded beach the next day. As there were no beach chairs, she laid her towel in the shade of a huge palm tree and looked out over the ocean.

  At this point, she was letting the sun tan her body, keeping her face under sunglasses in the shade. The sun felt marvelous, warm and soothing, lulling her into a dream-like state.

  After a while, she was in that twilight stage of sleep, still somewhat aware of what was happening around her, but nearing sleep and having images and sounds drift through her mind.

  The sound of the ocean waves, joined by the sound of the wind through the palm tree leaves hypnotized her.

  She opened her legs to feel the hot sun on the fabric of her bikini bottoms, which barely covered her pussy.

  Letting her mind wander once again, Brenda imagined a shadow blocking the sun. A man was standing over her, watching her as she slept. She felt his breath, sensing he was kn
eeling beside her.

  She shifted and let out a small sleepy sigh. When she shifted, she opened her legs just enough to offer a glimpse of the sides of her pussy.

  She settled back into the sand and determined, yes, she was sleeping. She relaxed and let herself enjoy this dream, feeling the man's rough fingers gently and lightly run over her stomach, over her forearms, her thighs and her knees.

  He fingers ran lightly over the outline of her bikini bottoms. He slipped the tip of his finger under the fabric, stopping at the side ties and pulled on one of them.

  She felt the fabric fall against her body. Then she felt the other one being undone. The sun and the ocean breeze now caressed her naked pussy.

  Fingers ran through the tuft of hair on her mound. Then, barely touching her, one finger gradually ran down along her slit. Up and down, ever so slowly, Brenda squirmed with pleasure, her eyes remaining closed.

  Half moaning, half exhaling, she shifted again so that her pussy spread open, revealing a hint of glistening moisture that had gathered at the opening of her cunt.

 

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