Best Women's Erotica 2009

by Violet Blue

  I lay fully on the bed and spread my legs once more. My pussy was an open invitation that the good professor accepted, by climbing up to squat at my feet. It took a few tries but eventually he managed to position himself so that he could jam the dildo inside me. The solid feel would have made me speechless, if I wasn’t already struck dumb by the moans James emitted with every shove. I could hear other things—my sticky juices made sordid music that I could listen to all day.

  My quiet world threatened to shatter with my building climax, and I panted, keened, but I did not scream out. I remembered my place as an ambassador; wherever I go, and whatever I do, a hush should follow. This was my commodity, my skill, and my pure sweet heaven. There were no other words for this, none that I could express in English anyway. I came to the sound of explosions in my head, and James stumbled back, with the dildo protruding from my pussy like the flagpole of my new nation.

  “Well, that was different,” James said breathlessly. He yanked the dildo out and replaced it with his heated face a moment later. He planted persistent kisses all over my pussy, with urgent open-mouthed phrases. I listened to his dialect as he stroked me with his tongue. Then he spoke directly to me with a kiss to my clit. I willed the involuntary sounds to stay inside me, but every sweep of his tongue brought the start of a scream to my lips. Screams were for my nightmares only; they had no place here. I came once more with my mouth stretched wide, and my hips clenched around the head of a professor.

  I fumbled for the dildo and stuck it into my mouth as I came down from my climax. I sucked contentedly and tasted my juices with every slurp.

  James wearily climbed up the bed to lie beside me. He kissed my shoulder affectionately, and I gurgled like a baby. But as the sound of childishness touched my ears, a different kind of silence fell over me like a shroud. James seemed to sense my shifted mood, and he pulled the covers over us both. A dozen different gags toppled to the floor and rolled away unheeded.

  I listened to James’s heart thump against me, like a slow Morse code that I didn’t have to decipher. I felt safe and sleepy, and so very satisfied. Maybe that’s why I chose that moment to do something that was rare for me. I stepped out of my silent world for just a second, opened my mouth, and I spoke out loud.

  “I saw my best friend die when I was eight years old. I screamed at her to move back from the edge of the railway platform, but my words made no difference. She fell in front of a speeding train.”

  James said nothing, but he wrapped his arms tight around me. I stayed in his embrace until I fell asleep. When my dreams came, they were wonderfully silent.

  DECORATIONS

  Sommer Marsden

  He tells the boy, “The insides of her wrists please.”

  I barely have to do a thing. I kneel there naked, my black halter dress neatly folded in the corner. I touch him a few times, run my hand up the shaft of his cock, dart my finger over the weeping slit at the tip. When Jake gives me the nod, I take him into my mouth but only for a moment; just long enough for him to feel the heat of my mouth on his cock, my tongue on the helmet.

  The boy, for he is only about eighteen, makes a noise low in his throat, a desperate sound. I sink back on my heels and watch his fist pumping the rosy length of his member. When he says, “Now. I’m going to come now,” I offer up my wrists. His semen, hot and white, decorates the bracelets of fortune at the crux of my wrists. Warm ropes of pearly fluid decorate the nature-made creases that adorn me there.

  Then we are off, Jake and I, to the next club. He buys me a mojito. I cannot wash my hands, nor wipe them clean. I drink my drink with the shiny snail trail of come drying on my skin. He smiles at me and kisses me deeply, his tongue seeking out the tart taste of lime in the depths of my mouth, possibly the taste of another man.

  When he sees the next one, his eyes narrow, like those of a predator. He takes my hand, finishes off his beer, and leads the way. “The next one is over there,” he whispers. My skin pebbles with gooseflesh; my nipples grow hard under my dress. I sigh. I can’t wait for the next one. And what is the next spot, I wonder.

  I don’t have to wonder long because the next one, who is more man than boy, readily agrees and follows us into the restroom.

  I take off my dress, fold it neatly, set it on the back of the toilet tank. I kneel on a toilet seat cover that Jake has put down for me. The harsh white paper protests under my skin.

  “The small of her back,” he commands, and the stranger, who is a man and not a boy, begins to stroke his uncut cock. I watch as it lengthens and grows. I realize I have never fucked a man who still had his foreskin. I watch and I lick my lips.

  “Go on, then,” Jake says and pushes the back of my head none too gently. I can imagine his big fist in my dark blonde hair. I can see the black hairs that pepper his knuckles in my mind’s eye. I open wide and let the stranger man stick his uncut cock into my mouth.

  Only for a moment though, just long enough to get the feel and the taste, long enough for him to see his dick disappearing into my mouth. To see how long and lean my throat is when he’s fucking my ready lips.

  His sound is different than the boy’s. His sound is high and almost girlish, and he says what he was instructed to: “Now. I’m going to come now…” and I bow down before him as if I am praying to him so he can access the small of my back. I feel the freshets of come shoot over that pale tender skin. Somehow it’s so vulnerable there. The small of the back. Which is why Jake chose it in the first place. When he’s done, I stay prostrated as if I am waiting for my prayers to be answered. Best to let the decoration he has left start to dry. Preserve the inkblot of come as it is.

  Jake hustles him out, kneels next to me, his pants protecting his skin so he doesn’t need a paper toilet cover. “It looks like a palm tree,” he grunts and then he worms two big fingers into my cunt. I’m dripping wet, and I squirm under him until he uses just the right rhythm and just the right pressure. I cry out my orgasm bent nearly double on the dirty tile floor.

  And we’re on to the next club.

  “Last one,” he says and hands me a fresh mojito. This one is too sweet. The bartender used too much simple syrup. I grimace, toss back half, and set it down. Boldly, unlike me, I spot the one I want: tall and lanky, dark blonde hair like mine, striking green eyes.

  I nod but say nothing. Maybe the nod will be enough. It is.

  Jake leads me over, sips on his beer, whispers in the young man’s ear. His green eyes light with greedy glee as he takes me in: my body, my dress, the dried come on my slender wrists. This time it is the coatroom.

  My dress is neatly folded; I am kneeling on someone’s cashmere scarf. I like the feel of the sultry fabric under my sore knees. Jake explains, the stranger nods. He feels he must tell us that his name is Todd.

  “Right. Todd. Good for you,” Jake says. “So when you shoot your load, Todd, you aim for the nape of her neck. Got it?”

  Todd bobs his head eagerly and lets his pants fall around his ankles. He strokes his short but wide cock, and it turns purple almost instantly. It’s amazing how they are all the same appendage, capable of the same thing, and yet so wildly different.

  “Go on, then,” Jake says with a laugh and gives my bare asscheek a gentle nudge with the tip of his shoe. “Such a cock slut.” The laugh is good-natured.

  I give Todd sixty seconds of heaven, sucking his short fat cock. I like the way it fills my cheeks but not my throat, how it’s fat but short so I can take it all the way in. I have to wonder if a cock that short would hit the good stuff while he fucked me or if I would be forced to teach him how to get me off with his hand. It doesn’t really matter because Todd has been pushed to the brink just watching me suck him.

  “Now! I’m going to come now!” he says as instructed. I like that he is the most exuberant of all for the night.

  I bow my head like I’m going to kiss his feet and feel his come shoot rivulets along the nape of my neck. I feel it running like warm rainwater in the tendrils of hair that
have escaped my hair clip. I sigh at his feet because I can feel Jake’s eyes on me. I can feel the phantom touch of his fingers deep in my pussy, and my sex throbs with excitement.

  Todd is gone. I am bent and the come is drying.

  “A heart with an arrow,” Jake says examining it. “I swear to god, it looks like he drew it on purpose. Bullshit though, he damned near had a seizure when he came.”

  Jake helps me up. I put on my dress. The skin at my nape and my wrists and the small of my back feels tight and constricted from the coatings of dried come.

  “Ready?” Jake asks and offers me his arm. I take it and we go.

  The Blacklight is his favorite club. And for a reason. Inside the black lights make all kinds of things glow. They make me glow, not for the first time. I turn my wrists up like a prisoner and see the glowing white stain of come. He spins me to the mirrored wall and holds my compact up. I see the heart with the arrow glowing at the nape of my neck, bits of my hair, shiny and surreal, glowing white like a beacon. He lifts my dress because in this club no one really gives a shit. Above my black thong is the palm tree, like a cosmic tattoo, glowing in the lights like a million tiny stars glued to my skin.

  Jake walks me into the corner. The black light penetrates but very few nosy gazes can. He hikes up my dress and slides my thong to the side. His big fingers find me wet and ready. He takes his wet finger and works my clit until I am bucking against the mirrored wall, my reflection shining back at me, crazy and cut up. Over the thumping music I hear his zipper, feel the big blunt head of his perfect cock work at my hole. I arch my hips, hook my ankle behind his back and pull, eager for him, a slut for him.

  “Easy, Lisa,” he laughs. He’s laughing because he knows I can’t be.

  He goes slow, lets his eyes sweep over the decoration at my wrists, lets his fingers sweep over the one on my back like he’s reading Braille. I know he can see my nape in the mirror.

  “You look so fucking hot when you’re all decorated,” he says and slams into me. For just a second my feet leave the floor with his force and I don’t care. I wrap my legs around his waist as he fucks me hard, ramming my back into the reflective wall as I cling to him.

  “Now. I’m going to come now,” he says with an evil laugh, mocking my suitors for the night.

  He comes with a growl and I come with him, around him. The dance beat that is thumping in my ears and my head swallows up my cries as I come not once but twice, Jake shoved deep inside of me, the taste of three strange cocks and two bad mojitos still on my lips.

  THE GIRL NEXT DOOR

  Kay Jaybee

  “Get down on your knees. I want to see you crawling.”

  He looked at her; surely she was joking. Her green eyes had narrowed to hard flint slits. No, she wasn’t joking. He dropped onto all fours, his bare legs cold against the tiled bathroom floor.

  Jack should have asked her what the hell she was doing in his house. He should have demanded to know why she was barging in on him in the bathroom when he was about to shower, but the words caught in his throat at the sight of her. It was as if a stranger stood before him, not Kim, the girl he’d known for so long, the quiet girl that lived next door.

  On his hands and knees he hovered below her, self-conscious that his dick was stirring, swelling under her piercing gaze. Despite the two pints of beer he’d had that evening, his mouth had gone dry, and he licked his lips apprehensively as he waited to see what would happen next.

  Kim, her hands on her hips, observed the object of her fantasy as he crouched beneath her. She had to struggle not to smile as his naked body responded to her presence. She’d dreamt of this, frequently imagining what Jack would look like underneath his habitual jeans and T-shirt. She wasn’t disappointed.

  For years Kim had waited with a quiet desperation for Jack to notice her, always there, always a friend in a crisis. He had never truly seen her though, never noticed her against the background of silicone enhanced blondes he brought home at distressingly frequent intervals. She’d had enough. If she was going to move on, she had to have him, just once. Just to see if the reality could be as good as the dream. So, pushing past the boundaries of right and wrong, Kim had allowed her obsession to guide her. Using the key that Jack had given her for emergencies, she had let herself into his home and waited for his return from the pub, praying that he’d be alone. Her dubious request answered, Kim, clad only in a maroon basque and stockings and suspenders, with her long black hair in two tight pigtails, hid and waited.

  Kim’s pulse drummed against her chest, and her voice sounded husky and strange as she spat out her next order. “Kneel up.”

  Jack obeyed, his cock swaying toward her like a compass needle, his whole body rigid with expectation and uncertainty. His deep blue eyes bored into hers, questioning, but he didn’t quite dare to speak, as if he knew that any sound from him would break the spell and end this—whatever this was.

  Kim, her hands still on her slim hips, widened her legs slightly and said, “Lick me.”

  Her words cracked against the tense silence as Jack, hesitating for only a fraction of a second, crawled toward this new Kim, one who was unexpectedly, deliciously in control, and expecting obedience. Feeling her slick clit harden beneath his tongue, Jack’s mind raced. He’d had no idea she liked him in this way. On the other hand, until this evening, he’d had no idea he wanted her either.

  Kim closed her eyes tightly as Jack lapped at her. Steadying himself by grasping her legs, trapping the clips of her suspenders beneath his palms, he swirled his tongue over and around her pussy, making her sway against the exquisite pleasure. Allowing herself to relax against his attention, Kim came quickly, her mound pressing against his wet face as she shuddered to a swift climax.

  Taking a deep breath, Kim took a step back and forced herself to look hard at Jack. An expression of mild shock had settled on his face. Good, she thought, I’ve surprised him but not, happily, repulsed him.

  Speaking quickly, whilst her body recovered from its welcome attention, Kim pointed to the bath. “Bend over it.”

  This time Jack hesitated longer, unsure how he was supposed to carry out her instruction, but as it seemed unlikely that further information was going to be forthcoming, he shuffled on his knees across the hard floor, and leaned over the white plastic panel.

  “More.” Kim pushed his firm backside higher into the air, forcing his stomach farther across the bath, so that his hips were uncomfortably level with the top of the panel, his weight supported by his arms on the bath’s far side.

  “You will not move.” Kim ran a newly painted red fingernail down his buttcrack, and felt a thrill of power as Jack shivered beneath her touch. “Nor will you speak.”

  Ignoring his nod of agreement, Kim picked up the hairbrush she knew Jack always kept in his windowsill, and familiarized herself with its pleasing weight. This was the part of her plan she’d dreamt of most, the punishment he was so long overdue. Punishment for not having seen what was right under his nose.

  Kim struck the first blow and watched in fascination as Jack’s skin puckered beneath the blow. The second hit made his right buttcheek glow. Kim stopped again to see how the flesh blotched with pink. By strike four she had got into her stride, and Jack’s stoic whimpers had became grunts and groans of bitten-back agony.

  Another blow, and another. One for each of the girls he’d brought home in the weeks since Kim had first hatched her plan. One for each girl he’d shagged that wasn’t her.

  It was the tenth blow that broke him. Tears gathered unbidden at the corners of his eyes, and Jack raised his blond head. Heedless of her request for no words, he cried out, “Stop. Kim, please! What are…?”

  Cutting across his pleas, Kim spat out in a fierce whisper, “I told you not to speak.”

  “I…” Jack spluttered, desperately aware that, despite the burning across his backside, his submission had turned him on far more than he’d expected it to, as Kim’s tightly calm voice interrupted him again.
/>
  “You haven’t been punished enough yet.”

  “But I…”

  “You spoke again! Oh, dear.” She feigned mock resignation. “I feared this might happen. Stand!” Her ordered cracked out, echoing around the pristine white-tiled walls.

  Jack, bruised and dizzy from the blood that had rushed to his head, rose steadily to his feet. His brain seethed in a ball of confusion: why was he being punished? What had he ever done to upset Kim? He wasn’t sure of anything, least of all why he didn’t protest, why he didn’t just step forward in his usual confident manner, rip the basque from her chest, and attack the breasts that were visibly swelling beneath. His heart pounded in his ears with the need to penetrate this surprising creature, but curiosity and bemusement kept him exactly where he was.

  Kim walked around Jack, appraising his body with a critical gaze, making him feel like a beast being examined for market. Then, standing directly in front of him, she unclipped her stockings and, infuriatingly slowly, rolled them down and off.

  His eyes followed her fingers as Kim deftly folded the nylon in half and approached Jack. Understanding her intention, he took an involuntary step backward. Kim looked at him coquettishly through her long black eyelashes. “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?”

  The challenge in Kim’s words made Jack stand still, and after a second’s indecision, he cautiously allowed himself to submit to her. Silently he parted his mouth so she could gag him with the soft material.

  Not waiting to admire her handiwork, Kim took the second stocking and, after stretching it out slightly, used it to bind Jack’s wrists behind his back. Then, leaving him behind, she walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, and waited for him to follow her.

  Kim had never been in this room before. Standing by Jack’s double bed, she quickly assessed the space available to her as she waited for his arrival. He appeared then, standing sheepishly in the doorway of his own room.