The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 9

by Maxim Jakubowski

  “You’re making eyes at the bartender right now, aren’t you?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Incorrigible flirt.”

  “Is that the new euphemism for slut? I thought we had a truce.”

  I drained my martini. “Oh, we do, darling, but you keep letting the bartender come between us.”

  Jack grinned down at me. “Now that’s the most brilliant idea you’ve had all evening.”

  Maybe it was the alcohol, but he had me puzzled. “What idea?”

  He guided me in a slow turn so that I could see the flirty bartender. Jack’s cheek pressed to mine. “Have the bartender come between us”

  There was no denying what Jack meant by come. I sighed. “Gosh you’re swell to invite yourself on my date, mister. Filthy, but swell.”

  “It was your idea.”

  “Weddings make me horny.” It wasn’t much of a defense, but it was the truth. Dancing with Jack only made it worse. From across the wedding hall, we probably seemed strictly ballroom, but it was just a cover for frottage. The heat between our bodies brought out his clean soap scent. We weren’t sweaty, but the humidity was definitely rising under my dress. Something else was rising in his pants.

  Jack’s eyes were so full of mischief that I didn’t know if he was teasing or challenging me. “That wasn’t yes, but it wasn’t no either.”

  “I think I’d better stop drinking.”

  “Afraid of getting vodka pussy?”

  My mouth dropped open. Did he really just say that? I lightly smacked his arm. “Incorrigible.”

  “Encourage-able, don’t you mean? Maybe you just need to be persuaded.” He kissed me again. That time, he sucked my bottom lip and pulled it with his teeth. Pressed so tight against him, I knew he didn’t have to worry about whiskey dick, and from the throb in my clit, I sure as hell didn’t have vodka pussy. He pressed kisses to my neck. Chills zinged down my spine.

  “Maybe we should find out what time the bartender gets off.”

  Jack lifted my hand to his lips. “Not until you do, darling.”

  With a short salute, he strode over to the bar. He leaned on his elbow as he talked to the bartender. They both looked at me. The bartender frowned. Damn. Jack was right. The sexy Latino with the melting brown eyes wasn’t interested in me. Funny. I didn’t usually read people wrong that way. Of course, if I was in competition with Jack, and the bartender swung that way, well, I didn’t blame him for choosing Jack.

  Jack kept talking. The bartender shook his head. Not wanting to watch myself get shot down, I wandered over to take a look at the gift table. The auntie was there, poking at the boxes. She probably traded the card from her cheap offering to a gift that looked more expensive. Her huge purse clutched to her bosom, she glared at me.

  An arm stole around my waist. Jack’s lean body spooned to mine. “We’re on.”

  “Are we? He didn’t seem all that interested. How did you manage it?”

  “I have my ways.”

  “You were right, weren’t you? He was after you, not me.”

  “No, you were right. He was trying for both of us. He just thought it was a bad time to take a break, but I convinced him.” Jack sure did like to kiss my neck. I was glad I’d swept my hair up so that there were plenty of places for those lips to nibble. “I shouldn’t be doing this, but come on. We don’t have much time.”

  A conga line, led by the groom, snaked toward us. Jack hurried me through a side door. The last thing I saw was an usher grasping the Auntie’s hand. She squawked, but swept along in the tide of the celebration, she didn’t stand a chance at escape.

  Jack and I stepped into a service hallway. Service trays stacked with the remains of dinner lined the long hallway. Jack hummed as he gently grasped my elbow and guided me away from the swinging doors at the end of the corridor that I supposed led into the kitchen.

  “I recognize that tune,” I told him.

  “Isn’t it romantic . . .” he warbled as a waiter rushed past us with coffee service.

  “Ha! You are divine.”

  He held open the door to a stairwell. “You say that now. I’m actually quite nasty.”

  Oh, he was, but in the best way. Before the door swung shut, he was slowly teasing my zipper down. He slid the thin straps from my shoulders, but carefully draped my dress over the railing instead of letting it fall onto the concrete floor. He frowned at the small pile of discarded cigarette butts under the fire hose. “Staff knows they shouldn’t smoke here.” He suddenly grinned at me. “Sorry about the accommodations, but we’re on a tight time schedule.”

  “You have to be somewhere?”

  “Julio, our bartender, only gets a fifteen minute break. He shouldn’t even get one on such a short shift.”

  Wearing only French knickers and high heels, I felt deliciously exposed. I pulled on the end of Jack’s bow tie. That made him look even hotter. He kept me close so I could feel his hard-on as I opened his shirt. My hands ran up his pecs into the light covering of dark hair. “Very nice.” Then I saw the angry scar near his shoulder, and one below his ribs. My eyes full of questions, I ran my hand over the pink welt.

  He grabbed my hand and kissed my fingertips. “It’s not important.”

  “Okay.” So he didn’t want to tell a stranger. I didn’t blame him, but I couldn’t help but wonder.

  His jacket and shirt went over the railing beside my dress. Giving him my sweetest smile, I slid my hands down his body as I went to my knees.

  There’s a sound I loved to get out of a man. Not a sigh or a grunt, but a small gasp as he realizes that his most precious possession is in the hands, and mouth, of a true artist. It was like a state of Zen, worshipping a cock that way. Long licks from tip to base, across his balls, and back up to the head for a start. Then slight suction up the length of him, ignoring the head. When his hand twitched as if he wanted to grab my head and fuck my face, he was ready. I plunged my mouth over him, taking him in until my nose pressed into his groin.

  “Whoa. Whoa. I’m going to come too fast if you keep that up.” Jack pulled his cock out of my mouth and leaned against the wall, panting. “For a girl, you sure know how to suck cock.” He helped me to my feet.

  “I think I resent that remark.”

  Jack grinned. “No insult to women meant.”

  I lifted my chin and put my hand on my hip. “Gender has nothing to do with it. I suck great cock, period.”

  He pulled me to him. “Yes you do. It’s that mouth of yours. Those blow job lips . . .” Jack’s mouth covered mine as his hand slid into my panties. “Very nice.” Then the only sound was our heavy breathing and the slick wet sounds of his agile fingers working over my pussy.

  Jack slid my knickers down. Kneeling, he tapped my ankle. I lifted my feet. He folded my panties before putting them aside. “Would madame care to sit on the steps, or to stand?”

  “I can’t come while standing. At least, not when I’m in the shower.”

  He unfurled his jacket on the staircase leading up. “Then I insist you sit.” The way he took my hand and eased me onto his jacket, he could have been seating me at high tea.

  Jack kneeled; I propped up on my elbows to watch. He kissed along the inside of my thighs. “Just trimmed, not shaved,” he murmured into my mound. “Just the way I like it.” His tongue slid over my clit in a long lick. Like he’d done to my mouth, he sucked and teased until I panted. It was possible I’d met my match at oral.

  The doorway swung open. Jack rose up, shielding me from view until he realized it was our bartender friend.

  Julio grinned down at us. “Started without me?” He shed his white jacket.

  “Just warming up,” Jack said. “Care for a taste?”

  Julio got on his knees next to Jack. “Sure.” He wrapped his arms around Jack and kissed him.

  They didn’t waste time on tentative pecks. Hands grasping Julio’s short black hair, Jack shared my flavor. They parted, smiled, and slammed together again. While they ma
de out, I slid my hand between my legs and pinched my clit. Jack tugged Julio’s zipper down and brought out a nice fat cock.

  Julio bent down to work his tongue over me. I moved my hand out of the way as he enthusiastically delved between my legs. Jack bent down, and even though I couldn’t see it, I knew he had Julio’s cock in his mouth. Julio wasn’t quite as talented as Jack, but he knew what he was doing. I loved that he didn’t ram his fingers into me, but instead used them on the hood of my clit.

  I grasped my purse. Momentarily distracted, I laughed when I looked up and all three of us held up strips of condoms.

  “The lady is prepared,” Jack told Julio.

  “I always carry the five essentials to a party. Money, phone, lipstick, protection, and—” I fished into my small beaded bag and withdrew a small vial “—lube.”

  Jack put his hands over his heart. “I think I’m in love.”

  “More important than that, who’s Lucky Pierre?” I asked.

  “Lucky Pierre?” Julio’s heavy brows drew together.

  “The one in the middle,” I explained.

  The guys both slightly shrugged and looked to me. “The lady . . .”

  I snorted. “You want to know what would really get me off? Watching you two fuck.”

  Julio grinned. So did Jack. Julio shoved his pants down, got on his hands and knees, and nuzzled my clit again. Jack buried his face between the muscled mounds of Julio’s smooth, tight ass cheeks. Julio moaned into my pussy.

  As if that weren’t hot enough, Jack unrolled a condom over his cock, lubed it, and pressed into Julio. For a long while, Julio’s tongue stopped working me. He breathed heavily on my thigh with his eyes closed. Jack stared down at Julio’s ass. The concentration on his face was a sight. Little feel-good zaps tingled through my clit.

  With one hand on Julio’s waist, Jack slowly worked into a rhythm. Watching the way his body moved made those little tingles between my legs build. I grasped the back of Julio’s head and forced it against my pussy. I ground on his nose until he got the hint and sucked me again.

  Jack looked up at me. His grin went all the way up to his eyes and sparkled there. He bent over Julio’s back. I struggled to lean forward. Rising to my knees, I went for Jack’s mouth. I fucked Julio’s tongue while Jack pounded his ass.

  Julio said something I couldn’t quite hear.

  “Not yet,” Jack said to him.

  My muscles bunched tight. I looked down and watched Jack’s cock sliding through the tight ring of Julio’s ass. My thighs clamped around Julio’s head as an orgasm shot through me.

  “Now you can,” Jack told Julio.

  Julio turned his head to the side and let out a long cry. His load splattered on the step below me. Jack pulled slowly out of Julio’s ass. He cast the condom aside and jerked off until he came on Julio’s ass.

  We fell together in a warm heap, kissing and cuddling.

  “I don’t suppose one of those essentials you carry is a come rag?” Jack asked.

  I shook my head.

  He pulled the handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and regarded it mournfully for a moment before wiping his come off Julio’s ass cheeks. “Now I know what these are for.”

  He held a corner between his thumb and forefinger. “I guess I should have offered this to you first.”

  Julio quickly got dressed. “Break is over. Thanks, boss.”

  Jack stood up and pulled Julio to him. “You can’t go back with her smeared all over your face.”

  “I’ll rinse off in the kitchen first.” Julio turned to me. “That was hot. Thanks.”

  I grinned wearily. “Any time.”

  Jack gave Julio a light smack on his butt as the bartender peered out the door.

  “You better get back to the party too. Coast is clear,” Julio said before disappearing down the hallway.

  “I hate to be a party pooper, but Julio’s right, I’ve been gone longer than I should have been too. I simply couldn’t resist, though.” Jack offered his hand. He pulled me to my feet.

  “Not a problem, Jack. I knew this was a quickie.”

  Jack buttoned his shirt. He tucked in and pulled on his jacket. He opened the door, but turned back. “You’re a hell of a girl, Georgie. If I had time . . .” Then he was gone.

  I stood naked in the stairwell. How typical. The hostess left to clean up after the party guests were gone. I slid on my knickers and shimmied back into my dress. Well, the hotel management would have more than cig butts littering the landing to worry about, because I was not going to carry the used condom to a proper waste receptacle.

  Figuring that I looked well and truly fucked – but in a good way – I slinked down the access corridor to the ladies’ room. Ignoring the nasty glances I got from the bride’s mother, I reapplied lipstick and got presentable.

  As I stepped out of the bathroom, I glanced at my reflection in a full-length mirror in the elevator lobby. I was so busy making sure my dress didn’t have any tell-tale wet spots that I ran right into the dour Auntie from the wedding.

  “Watch it,” she snapped. She clutched her now bulging purse as she pushed the down button several times.

  I ignored her and went back into the reception hall.

  The place was in chaos. The bride’s father’s face was red. Spittle flew from his mouth as he yelled at Jack. Jack stood with his head hung. The bride was crying. The groom looked like he wanted to punch someone.

  “What happened?” I whispered to another guest.

  “Someone stole the bride’s purse. Apparently, it was full of cash and checks. They also took some of the more expensive gifts. No one saw anything, and apparently,” the guest lowered her voice, “the hotel security guy who was supposed to be watching took a break while it all went down.”

  I glanced at Jack. Hotel security? I looked over to Julio. He moved bottles around behind the bar and watched Jack get his ass handed to him. I looked out at the elevator lobby. The old Auntie was going crazy jabbing the down button. Her big old purse was so full, much fuller than it had been when she first started shoving bread into it. I could have sworn I saw the trademark blue of a Tiffany’s box poking out.

  I walked over to Jack and tugged on his sleeve.

  “We’re busy,” the bride’s father snapped at me.

  I bared my teeth at him in sort of a smile. “That’s nice. Shut up.” I nodded away from the gathering mob of wedding guests. “Follow me.”

  To his credit, Jack walked across the room with me. I pointed at the Auntie. “Does her purse look a lot fuller now than it did before? And why is she missing all the fun?”

  Jack’s eyes lit up. “I could kiss you, darling.” He whipped his phone out of his jacket pocket, turned his back to me, and muttered into it.

  The elevator pinged. As the doors slid open, the Auntie got into it.

  “She’s getting away!”

  Jack turned around. “No. I’ve arranged a little reception for her downstairs. Everything is under control.” He kissed my forehead. “Like I said, one hell of a girl. Can I see your phone?”

  Puzzled, I handed it to him. His fingers deftly glided over it. He handed it back. “My phone number is programmed in. I’m going to be busy with the cops and management the rest of this evening, but call me tomorrow. I’d like to see you again.”

  “You’re hotel security? Won’t you get in trouble for drinking on the job?”

  Jack laughed. “Julio was pouring me flavored water all night. But I might get in trouble for slipping away with you.”

  “Sounds like my cue to exit.”

  He shrugged. “It might help. Then you won’t have to lie to the cops. Thanks for saving my butt.”

  “Any time.”

  The bride’s father stalked over. “What are you planning to do?”

  Jack drew himself up. “It’s all being handled, sir.” He ushered the fuming father away, but glanced over his shoulder long enough to wink at me.

  With all the commotion, no one noticed me sl
ipping away from the party. In the hotel lobby, I saw the Auntie surrounded by several of the city’s finest boys in blue. Her purse was open, and several gifts, as well as the bride’s purse, were laid out on a table.

  The doorman hailed a cab for me. Suddenly weary, I climbed in, collapsed against the seat, closed my eyes, and gave the cabbie my address. My thoughts went back to the scene in the stairwell as my hand slipped between my thighs. What were those scars on Jack’s chest? He didn’t seem like the type to have a mysterious past. Then again, what did I really know about him? Great dancer, better kisser, hot lover, undercover security guy – that was it. Maybe one day he’d tell me what happened. That is, if we ever met again. Opening my eyes, I fished my phone out of my purse and brought up the number Jack programmed into it.

  “Jack McGreggor,” he answered tersely.

  “Just checking.”

  He chuckled. “If you left without my number, I would have regretted it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But soon and for the rest of my life.”

  I loved that he would misquote from Casablanca for me. “Jack, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  “Wait – does that make me Bogart or the French guy?”

  “We’ll work it out over dinner sometime, and continue the conversation onto breakfast the next morning.”

  “I’m taking that as a promise,” he said.

  “Cross my legs and hope to die.”

  He laughed again. His voice dropped into an intimate tone that sent a shiver down my spine. “Say goodnight, Georgie.”

  “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

  The Depths of Despair

  Rachel Kramer Bussel

  Evan is staring at me intently, waiting for the answer to his question, “What do you want?” whispered directly into my ear. Such a short sentence for the very complex response it opens up in me. I want a hundred million things from him, but at this moment, I want something I’m not totally sure either of us can handle.

  “I want you to make me cry,” I tell him. I have to whisper it because the words, and the realization, are so intense I’m not sure I can own up to them. But it’s true; every time I think about his hands crashing down on me, his words berating me, his power keeping me in my lowly place, things we’ve done hundreds of times but that I still clamor for, I realize I don’t want something light and easy, something we can laugh about later. I don’t even want compliments like, “God, you can take a lot.” It’s not a competition for me; I know what my body can do, but I want to see what we can do together, if we can take spanking somewhere it’s never gone before, if we can make it propel us into a new place where we lose ourselves only to find people we’ve always wanted to be. I’ve wanted this forever, I realize, as I say the words, but had never felt close enough with a lover to go there before him. I want something altogether different from every other spanking I’ve ever gotten, the ones that were hot and kinky and nasty, but that shied away from even approaching the edge of oblivion. Only with Evan can I dare to approach that dividing line that could topple our over-the-knee pleasures forever, or consecrate spanking as the centerpiece of our relationship.