RED HOT READS 1
A collection of five erotic stories
Edited by Miranda Forbes
Published by Accent Press Ltd – 2010
ISBN 9781907016875
Copyright © Accent Press Ltd 2010
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY
The stories contained within this book are works of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Snow Day Elizabeth Coldwell
My Two Halves Alana James
Toys for the Girls Eva Hore
A Collar and Tie Elise Hepner
Two’s Company... J. Manx
Snow Day
by Elizabeth Coldwell
I had been looking forward to visiting the spa for weeks. My best friend, Lynn, had won two day passes in a competition run by our local newspaper, and ever since she’d received the email informing her of her good fortune we had been poring over the brochure, deciding how we would spend our time there. It seemed we’d been chatting about nothing but how good it would feel to lie back in the jacuzzi and let the bubbles soothe away the tension in our bodies, and whether we would treat ourselves to a massage or a facial, or both. I wanted to try the sanarium, which was a cross between a sauna and a steam room, where you could lie back and be soothed by the noises of the Brazilian rainforest. Lynn was adamant that we would end our day with a glass of champagne by the koi pool in the lounge. So when I pulled open the bedroom curtains that morning to see that almost a foot of snow had fallen in the night, I could have cried.
When Gary and I had bought the house, one of the things we had loved most about it was the fact it was at the end of a narrow country lane, with no immediate neighbours. But what had made it so attractive in the high days of summer now rendered our home inaccessible to traffic. The snow ploughs might already be out clearing the main roads, but I knew my car wouldn’t be going anywhere until the thaw set in – and goodness only knew how long that was likely to take.
I reached for the phone and called Lynn to explain my plight. Living close to the city centre, as she did, I knew she wouldn’t have the same transport nightmare.
‘Don’t worry,’ Lynn reassured me. ‘I already rang the spa to let them know we might have a problem keeping the appointment, and they couldn’t have been nicer about it. They told me half their staff haven’t been able to make it in because of the weather, so they’ve booked us in on the twenty-ninth instead.’
I still couldn’t help feeling disappointed. I knew I was guilty, like so many people, of working too hard and indulging myself too little, and today would have been a chance to rectify that imbalance slightly. I knew I could always snuggle under the duvet with a mug of cocoa and spend the rest of the day watching old episodes of Sex and the City on DVD, but it wasn’t the same.
Snow was pattering against the window once more; big, fat flakes which showed no sign of easing off. In other circumstances, I would have admired the beauty of the landscape, hidden under its thick, white blanket, but I wasn’t in the mood. Wandering into the kitchen to ask Gary whether he would like a hot drink, I found him glued to his Blackberry, working his way through his clients for the day and rescheduling their appointments. ‘OK, Donna,’ he was saying, ‘so I’ll see you at three next Tuesday, then. And make sure you keep working on your core fitness until I see you again.’
‘Everything OK?’ I asked, putting my arms around him from behind and resting my cheek against his back.
‘Fine,’ he replied. ‘Donna was the last on my list for today. I think half of them are really glad they’re not going to be getting a workout, after all.’
‘Well, you are a complete slavedriver, which is probably what makes you such a great personal trainer,’ I said, as he spun me round into his arms. ‘And today is the perfect day for curling up on the sofa and just vegging out instead. Though I really was looking forward to spending today in the spa.’
He gave me a sympathetic squeeze, as though sensing how upset I was. ‘Tell you what, Judy.’ Gary’s green eyes twinkled as the idea struck him. ‘Seeing as I’m pretty much at a loose end now, too, why don’t I treat you to the Gary Taylor spa experience?’
My interest was piqued. ‘And what does that involve, exactly?’
‘If Madam would like to go and change into her robe and meet me in the bathroom, she’ll find out.’
Collecting my robe from where it hung on the back of the bedroom door, I quickly peeled out of the T-shirt and pyjama bottoms I’d been wearing and swaddled myself in the fluffy baby blue towelling. When I joined Gary in the bathroom, my eyes widened in disbelief. He had drawn the blind, and lit a couple of dozen candles, which leant a soft, flattering cast to the little room. The tub was filling rapidly, and he had poured a generous amount of the expensive jasmine bubble bath he’d bought me for Christmas into the water. To add to the serene atmosphere, music was playing on the portable CD player; a haunting, reedy pan-pipe melody which was just what you might expect to hear in a spa treatment room.
Gary was standing by the bath, wearing nothing but a pair of loose-fitting yoga pants. As always, I couldn’t help but admire the beautifully defined muscles in his arms and abdomen. His sculpted body was the perfect advertisement for his own services, and I often wondered whether any of his female clients booked sessions with him simply because of his looks and physique. So many celebrities had been involved in affairs with their personal trainers in recent years, I was sure they hoped Gary might be open to temptation as he put them through their paces. They were wasting their time; I had been with him long enough to know he only had eyes for me. The way he was looking at me now, waiting for the moment when I slipped off my robe and stood naked before him, proved that.
Gary dipped the point of his elbow in the foamy water, testing the temperature. ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘You might want to put on some of that cucumber face mask you use. And then, if you’d like to get in the tub, the treatment can begin.’
Once my face was coated with a thin layer of creamy green goo, I did as he asked, shucking my robe and stepping into the tub. I slid down in the water, the bubbles coming up to my chin. It was a deliciously decadent thing to be doing, and I closed my eyes and breathed in the jasmine-scented steam. Slowly, my mood lifted, and I started to forget about the awful weather outside and the disappointment of missing out on my day with Lynn.
To my surprise, I felt Gary’s fingers tangling into my hair as he started to give me a scalp massage. I had no idea where he’d learned his technique – perhaps he was simply making it up as he went along – but the pressure of his fingertips as they moved in slow, purposeful circles felt wonderful. ‘Mmm, that’s nice,’ I murmured.
In truth, it was better than nice. There was a strangely sexual undercurrent to having my scalp kneaded, and when Gary’s fingers moved down to stroke my neck, one of the most sensitive spots on my body, I almost purred, sinking a little lower in the tub. I was anxious for him to dip his hands under the water, to caress my breasts, but he seemed intent on keeping up the rôle of the detached, professional spa therapist – at least for the time being.
Finally, he decided I had spent enough time soaking. He handed me a couple of pieces of moistened cotton wool, so I could wipe away the face mask, and then he helped me get out of the tub, wrapping a soft, warm towel round me and patting me dry.
‘I could get used to being sp
oiled like this,’ I told him. For a moment I sank into his embrace, and I could feel the strength of his erection pressing at me through the towel. I could have dragged him into the bedroom and impaled myself on that thick chunk of flesh without any further preamble, but Gary was clearly in charge of the situation and he had other ideas.
There was a fresh towel spread out on the bedcovers, and he asked me to lie face down on it. Once I had, he unfastened my towel where it was knotted by my armpit, pulling it down but making sure it still covered my buttocks. The room was suddenly filled with the spicy aroma of cinnamon, and I looked over my shoulder to see Gary warming a small amount of massage oil between his palms.
‘Let’s get all that tension out of your shoulders, shall we?’ he said.
I wasn’t even aware I had been tense, until his fingers began to press hard into the skin over my shoulderblades. Ruthlessly, he sought out the little knots in the muscles there, pummelling them into submission. Gradually, his hands worked their way down my back, circling and soothing, circling and soothing. The warmth in the room and the smell of cinnamon were conspiring to make my head nod, and I might have drifted off entirely, had he not pulled the towel even lower so his palms could settle on my buttocks. Though he was making a show of working the muscles there, I was all too aware that occasionally his fingers would stray so they were brushing the soft insides of my thighs. He never moved close enough to my pussy that he actually touched it, but the anticipation of the moment when he did had my nerves singing.
I couldn’t remember the last time Gary had spent so much time teasing and turning me on. We enjoyed a pretty adventurous sex life – at least if the conversations I had with Lynn where we shared stories of the things we’d done recently were any reliable way of judging – but now it seemed as though my husband was using the time enforced on him by his unexpected snow day to rediscover my body all over again. I wasn’t one of those women who needed soft music and candlelight to get her in the mood, but it had been a while since Gary had allowed his romantic side full rein, and I intended to make the most of it.
As if sensing how desperate I was to feel his fingers on my sex, Gary deliberately switched the focus of his attention, massaging my feet instead. Usually, I didn’t like him to do that as I’m very ticklish there, but he was applying firm enough pressure that I felt only pleasure, rather than the urge to giggle and squirm away. Once he had established that he wasn’t going to let me dictate the pace, my only option was to lie back and relinquish control.
Coating his hands with more oil, Gary worked his way up my calves and thighs almost painfully slowly. Again, he came within inches of touching my pussy, but when I moved my legs a little wider apart to offer him easier access, he simply said, ‘If Madam would care to turn over now, I can work on her front ...’
My limbs felt languidly heavy after their massage, and it took me a little while to roll on to my front. When I opened my eyes, it was to see that at some point in the process, Gary had stripped off his yoga pants and was now as naked as I was. His cock stood up enticingly, flat against his stomach, and I was gripped with the need to reach out and touch it. When I did, he caught my wrists in one strong hand. ‘Any more of that, Madam, and you’ll find yourself with your hands tied.’
My pussy twitched with the thought. We had often talked about playing tie and tease games, but until now it had only been talk. I sensed the mood Gary was in today, horny and dominant; he might finally be willing to put our ideas into action. ‘But what kind of spa offers a treatment like that?’ I asked.
‘Try to touch me again, and you’ll find out.’ He knew the dare was too much for me to resist, which was precisely why he issued it. My fingers closed briefly around Gary’s hot, hard length and suddenly he whisked a couple of his silk ties out of his bedside drawer. I gave a little squeal of mock alarm as he fastened first one wrist, then the other, to the headboard – not too tightly, so there was no danger of my circulation being restricted, but I knew I wasn’t going anywhere until my husband decided to release me. Gary was grinning broadly as I writhed in my bonds, trying and failing to wriggle free. Both of us had reached such a pitch of lust that he had to fuck me now, I thought, but again I was wrong.
He reached for more oil and began to massage my flanks in long, slow sweeps which started just below my breasts and ended just above my pelvis. I watched his cock bobbing vigorously as he moved, and itched to be able to touch it, but he had ensured I wasn’t able to do that. Eventually, his hands reached my breasts. I thought he might continue teasing me, but to my delight he spent a while rolling my nipples between his thumbs till they were so hard they were almost begging to be licked and bitten. I thrust my chest as far upwards as I could, inviting him to suckle me. Gary’s eyes blazed with desire, and I knew he was having a real struggle to rein that desire in and not just plunge into my wet, aching pussy. But still he was determined to string this massage out until I was almost screaming with frustration.
Just when I finally decided I couldn’t take any more of his teasing, Gary took pity on me. He grabbed a pillow and slotted it under my bum, raising me off the bed a little way. He eased my legs apart and slid an oily finger into my pussy. A second pushed at my rear hole, suddenly slipping inside. He didn’t often play with my arse in this way, but I always relished it when he did, and the two-pronged stimulation had me bucking and moaning. When his thumb settled on my clit, as though completing the circuit, I almost lost it completely.
‘God, Judy, you look so amazing,’ my husband said, finally dropping the pretence of being the detached therapist. ‘So amazing I can’t wait to fuck you a second longer.’
True to his word, he didn’t bother untying me, simply straddled my body and sank his cock into me. With a couple of shoves, he was buried in me to the root. I felt completely alive, full of virile man flesh and about to get the fucking of a lifetime. Slowly, he began to thrust into me, never breaking eye contact. We knew we were sharing something very special. All the teasing, all the touching, all the denial had been leading up to this. Nothing is as good as sex with the one you love, and I loved Gary so very much at that moment. His brawny arms holding me, his gorgeous dick filling me perfectly: this was pampering, this was sheer indulgence. If any spa in the world could offer a feeling like this, I thought, they would have a waiting list a mile long.
With every stroke, Gary was touching the most sensitive spots inside me. I pushed back at him, my movements hampered slightly thanks to my makeshift restraints, but I knew my climax wasn’t very far away. I urged him on with my words and my movements, letting him know what a big, gorgeous stud he was, and how I was going to come for him. One last, forceful thrust was all it took: my head whirled as madly as the snowflakes beating against the window and my pussy clutched possessively around Gary’s shaft. It didn’t even slow him in his tracks; he had the stamina to match his strength, and he just carried on fucking me until my passion peaked again and I was reduced to a sweating, panting wreck, barely able to form the words to tell him how much I loved what he was doing to me. Finally, he gave a great roar and flooded me with his come.
Gary untied my wrists and pulled me into his arms. I lay my head on his sweat-slick chest, listening to his heartbeat slowing and feeling as blissfully satisfied as if I had indeed spent a whole day relaxing in the spa.
‘I think there’s a bottle of champagne in the fridge, if you’d like to complete the spa experience,’ Gary said, stroking my hair away from my eyes.
‘That sounds wonderful,’ I replied. I was sure we had bagels and smoked salmon, too, and I suddenly had a fierce appetite. Lunch before another bout of sex, this time with me on top, would finish our snow day off nicely. As I slipped off the bed and went to put on my robe, I asked, ‘What are we going to do if the snow’s as bad tomorrow?’
Gary smiled. ‘Any spa worth its salt has a whole list of treatments. I think we could spend quite a while working our way through them.’
I thought again how exciting it had been
to have Gary fucking me while I was helpless and restrained. With such a loving and inventive husband to play with, things could only get more intense. ‘You know,’ I said, ‘I’ve always wanted to experience one of those full body wraps. Maybe I should check how much clingfilm we have ...’
My Two Halves
by Alana James
I sit in the dim room of the private members’ club, eyes fixed on the illuminated platform in front of the audience. The Magician moves lithely over the stage, like a snake uncoiling. He gives no name other than The Magician, and hides most of his face behind a black mask. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen!’ he says, and much more.
The Magician goes like this, like that, reading minds, conjuring tricks. My lover, Alexander, sits beside me forsaken. This is his club, he brought me here, into his exclusive world but I am no longer here with him. My body is stirring with desire for this faceless Magician. His deep brown eyes are hypnotic; they draw me in, deeper and deeper so that I have the sensation of falling.
I objected when Alexander told me his surprise date was a magic show. I thought it childish, another sign that it is time to fly free of our relationship. Alexander had insisted we go, that his friends at the club would be disappointed otherwise. Alexander is older, more commanding than my previous lovers, and I’ve enjoyed surrendering to him sometimes. The sex has been decadent and uninhibited, though lately I’ve begun to feel constrained by us, by him. Now, however, I am glad I capitulated, as I find the magic show is stirring very adult, x-rated, feelings within me.
When The Magician calls for an assistant for his next trick my hand twitches. I realise Alexander is nudging me, encouraging me, ‘Go on, Laura …’, and soon the people sitting around us are joining in. I hesitate, then submit.
The last thing I see before the box shuts over me is the masked face of The Magician, his eyes shine intensely and then all is darkness and sensation.
Red Hot Reads One Page 1