The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 7

by Maxim Jakubowski

  I heard the sound of tires on gravel while the vehicle was still miles away. I listened to it with less than a quarter of my attention, sure it would pull into a driveway long before it reached me. I was surprised when I heard the whine of the tires come up the hill to the cabin. I sat up and watched the headlights make their way through the trees. A startled raccoon fled through the light, ran through the underbrush and scampered up a tree, where it disappeared into the leaves.

  The truck pulled into the drive. I took another sip of my beer. I was surprised when the lights flickered off. I was even more surprised when a man stepped out of the truck and walked toward me. It was only when he stepped through a shaft of moonlight that I realized who he was.

  I should have known.

  “Keith told me you might be out here,” Jake said.

  I held out the beer. He took it and drank the rest in one long swallow. We sat side by side on the porch and looked out at the silhouettes of the trees.

  “How is he?” I asked.

  Jake picked at a spot on his jeans. “He’s all right. He knows everybody handled the situation badly.”

  “I don’t blame him. I don’t blame anybody.”

  Jake chuckled ruefully. “That’s the problem with things like this. There is nobody to blame. It’s easier if there is someone who can be held accountable.”

  I got up to get another beer. I pulled two longnecks out of the cooler and handed one to Jake. We twisted off the tops and sat in companionable silence, watching the night close in around us.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  I nodded, grateful for his honesty. “Keith knows you are here?”

  “Yeah. He invited me to come out here. He said you might want some company.”

  I looked at Jake. He looked at me.

  “I didn’t ask,” he said softly. “I just took it for what it was.”

  I looked away, unsure of what to say. Anger and sadness warred for top billing. What the hell was happening here? I needed time to think, not time to spend with anyone else.

  “I’m still his girlfriend,” I said. “Does he know that?”

  “Are you?” Jake asked bluntly.

  I looked up at the stars. “I don’t know. I don’t know who belongs where anymore.”

  “I think he’s already made up his mind,” Jake said, so softly I could barely hear him. I pretended not to hear him at all, even as my heart beat a tattoo of fear in my chest. After a time the fear was replaced with a quick flash of anger, then with the same sadness I had felt for days and days.

  “How long are you here?” I asked.

  Jake took a long drink of his beer. “That depends on you.”

  I stood up on the porch and offered my hand. He held it a little too long after he stood up. We looked at each other and the electricity between us was still there. The only thing missing was Keith. I pulled my hand away.

  “I’m too drunk to drive,” I said. “So you get to do the honors.”

  Jake grinned.

  The karaoke bar was loud and rowdy. There were no parking spaces, so Jake parked the truck on the side of the road. The night air was muggy out here by the lake. Each time the door opened, the music blared. A woman was singing a very bad rendition of a Gretchen Wilson tune. Men were lined up at the bar, holding down stools while they eyed the women walking back and forth. Waitresses slid bottles of beer across tables and flirted with customers. The DJ was drinking just as fast as he was playing songs.

  We slid into a table at the corner next to the stage. The speaker was right in front of us and so talking was virtually impossible. I called for Bud Lights and the waitress slid them down to us like the professional she was. Jake watched me the whole time he drank his. I knew he was looking, and so I carefully kept my eyes on the singer.

  A Toby Keith song came next. Jake slid his hand across my thigh. My eyes met his, but he didn’t move his hand.

  By the time I had finished the beer, caution had disappeared. I took his hand and led him to the dance floor. The grace I had first seen in him was evident out there among the two-steppers. He spun me effortlessly. Every time he pulled me back toward him, we were a little closer. By the time the song was over, we were in each other’s arms.

  The next song was a slow one. Jake and I didn’t notice the singer at all. We were too busy enjoying the way it felt to be so close to one another. We moved in a slow waltz. Jake kissed my neck and trailed his lips along my collarbone. His lips found my ear and stayed there for a long while, kissing and singing softly along with the music. Before the song was over, his lips were on mine and I was kissing him right back.

  The next number was a fast dance track. We stood back and looked at each other as the dance floor filled up. By silent agreement, we went back to the table and held hands while we watched everyone else. I occasionally looked at him, and every time I did I caught him studying me.

  Another beer and I was brave enough to sing. Jake watched me as I sang, a smile on his lips. He was the one who clapped the loudest, even though I was sure I sounded just as drunk as I felt. I was surprised when Jake came up to the stage right after me. His voice was deeper than I had imagined it would be, and he was a hit with the bar, especially the ladies. I watched as they crowded around the front of the stage and looked at him with lustful eyes.

  When Jake came down off the stage, he kissed me quickly on the lips.

  “I’m jealous,” I admitted, and he looked at me for a long time.

  “Let’s go home,” he finally said.

  I stumbled up onto the porch, laughing. I wasn’t drunk enough to forget things, but I was definitely feeling good. Jake was right behind me. His laugh was genuine, hard and deep, from the belly up. He twirled me onto the wide porch and caught me right before I fell.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed him. Jake kissed me right back, until we were both breathing hard, until my head spun from something other than the alcohol.

  He asked me only one question.

  “Where’s the bed?”

  I took him into the house. We left the door open and our clothes on the floor. I fell into the bed and Jake was immediately there beside me. His hands were everywhere. Discovering his body was like a different kind of liquor. I was drunk on him.

  “My God,” he breathed. “Look at you . . .”

  Jake settled above me and kissed my throat. The heat of his arousal was insistent against my thigh, but he didn’t let me have it. He held himself just out of reach. I touched him everywhere and kissed every inch my lips could find. I reached for him with my hips. He chuckled against my mouth. Then he was chuckling, and humming and murmuring against my nipples as I held them up to him, pushed them together so he could take both into his mouth at once.

  He slid an inch of himself into me, just enough to give me a taste of what he might feel like. I tried to get him deeper but he braced himself above me. He watched as I moved under him.

  “That’s gorgeous,” he said. “I love the way you try to get me inside you.”

  I slid my hands down his back and grabbed his hips. He gave me that wicked smile. I pushed hard and thrust up at the same time, and was rewarded with another few inches of him. Jake laughed out loud, and I laughed right along with him.

  “Please, baby,” I murmured. “Please?”

  He slowly pushed forward. It seemed to take an eternity before he was completely inside me. Our bodies pressed tightly together. I lay very still and enjoyed the feeling of being filled by him. Jake closed his eyes and didn’t move for the longest time.

  “I have wanted this since the moment I saw you,” he said.

  Jake started to move. I gasped with the thrill of that first gliding thrust. Hard and fast or slow and easy, it seemed everything he wanted was exactly what I wanted, too. I was wetter than I had been in recent memory, and Jake appreciated it by moving harder into me. Our hips slammed into each other. His hands tightened in my hair. I scraped my nails
down his back and he cursed sweetly through gritted teeth.

  Soon all the foreplay was over and we were in the middle of an all-out, hardcore fuck.

  He drove me up the bed with his thrusts. I arched right back against him. The harder he gave it to me, the harder he got it. His kiss bruised my lips. I nipped at his. He pulled out and shoved me onto my belly, and was instantly on top of me, his hands in my hair as he yanked my head back. He slammed into me from behind and I could hardly catch my breath.

  “You’re a good fuck,” he growled into my ear.

  “You’re getting there,” I answered.

  Jake paused in mid-stroke. He laughed out loud. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that.”

  “Good. I haven’t seen your best yet.”

  The next thrust almost knocked me into the headboard. I braced myself hard on the mattress and pushed back against him. He thrust so hard that my elbows gave way, and I had to grab onto the headboard to keep from hitting it. Pain flashed though me as he hit bottom again and again. My legs trembled. Those finally gave way too, and he pinned me down to the bed with his weight. He thrust hard into me, driving right into that certain spot that drove me wild.

  I came with a satisfied howl, but Jake didn’t let up. He didn’t even slow down.

  “Jesus, Jake!”

  “Had enough yet?”

  I bit my lip. No way was I going to be the one to cry uncle. Jake slammed me hard. Surely he had to get tired soon – surely. I grabbed handfuls of the quilt under me and yelled at him, taunted him, and drove his passion to an even higher pitch.

  “Is that the best you got, Jake?”

  Jake rolled me over onto my back. I almost toppled off the edge of the bed. He yanked me back by one leg. He lifted my legs over his shoulders and then pushed them even farther back. His hands were spread wide on my thighs as he pushed my knees up to my shoulders.

  Jake slammed in with one hard thrust. He pushed so deep, I could almost taste him. The pain flashed through me and I screamed aloud in surprise.

  “That’s what I wanted,” he growled. “I wanted to make you fucking scream.”

  He did it again. And again. Over and over, while I clawed at his back and begged him to stop, begged him to keep going, begged him to come as deep inside me as he could.

  Jake finally began to lose control. His arms trembled on either side of me. Sweat ran down his body. He threw his head back and cried out loud as he shoved as deep as he could. He throbbed inside me. The heat of him flooded me. I rocked against him. He held himself deep, until the thrill of the orgasm had passed.

  Jake collapsed over me, breathing hard.

  “Is that good enough?” he asked, as soon as he caught his breath.

  I smiled against his skin. “I’m going to hurt so bad tomorrow.’’

  “Do you mind?”

  “No.”

  Jake carefully rolled off of me. He pulled me against him, even though we were both overheated and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He kissed my forehead.

  “Sleep with me,” he said.

  “I just did.”

  Jake laughed weakly. He closed his eyes. I watched him for a moment before I closed mine, too.

  The next day, the phone rang. I was sitting on the couch, eating oatmeal, trying not to think and nursing the aches and pains of a body that had been roughly used. Jake was sitting in the recliner and reading the newspaper. We looked at each other through the space of two rings.

  “It’s him,” Jake said.

  “What do I say?”

  “You be honest. He knows I’m here. He probably knows what we did, too.”

  I blushed. Jake smiled and looked down at the newspaper, but I knew his whole attention was focused on the phone call. I answered and Keith’s voice came over the line.

  “Did you two have fun?” he asked, and I was silent for one beat too long. I started to say something, but Keith cut me off. “It’s all right. I sent him there.”

  I closed my eyes. “Why did you do that?”

  Keith sighed. “Because I realized after you left that we really had reached a crossroads. I realized you and I had found something that we might never be able to compromise on. But I knew that you and Jake thought along the same lines.”

  There was actual pain in my chest as I listened to the sadness in Keith’s words.

  “We’re over?” I asked, though I already knew.

  “I think we are,” Keith said gently.

  I started to cry. “I’m sorry, Keith. It’s not about you. It’s about me, I think.”

  I could hear Keith’s smile. “Don’t cry over guilt, baby. You haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t make a heart feel what it just doesn’t feel, you know?”

  “I love you, Keith.”

  “I know. And I love you, too. That’s what makes this so hard.”

  We sat in silence for a few moments. Jake had put down the newspaper and was watching me intently, but he didn’t make any move to get up and come to me. He wasn’t going to interfere.

  “I have it easier than you,” Keith said suddenly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s easier for me, because I know Jake will take care of you.”

  That was why he had sent Jake. He knew this was coming, and he wanted me to be okay once it did. Suddenly I realized that he really did mean what he said – that it wasn’t about not caring. It was about caring so much that he wanted the best things for me, no matter what those things might be.

  “I wish you had someone there with you,” I said slowly, realizing that I really did mean it. “You deserve someone. I would give anything to know you would be okay.”

  Keith cleared his throat. “I will be okay. I promise you that. I’ve never broken a promise to you, have I?”

  I smiled. “Never.”

  “Now listen to me, baby. I think there’s a man around there somewhere who needs some attention. I’m willing to bet he’s scared to death right now, but he’s trying hard not to show it. You need to let him know I’m not a threat. You understand?”

  That set off a fresh round of tears. Had I ever known someone so selfless?

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you both when you come back to town.”

  “Will you?”

  Keith laughed, and though I could hear the tears, I knew it was genuine. “Absolutely.”

  I said goodbye and hung up the phone. Jake looked at me from the recliner. He hadn’t moved and he looked calm, but a storm was brewing in his eyes. I stood up and walked slowly to him. I took his hand in mine, and he squeezed hard enough to hurt.

  “Is he all right?” Jake asked.

  “He will be.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked, though we both knew I wasn’t. I looked into his eyes and offered the one thing that I knew would make us both feel better.

  “Take me to bed,” I said, and Jake smiled.

  Disciplinary Action

  Thomas S. Roche

  Carrie comes up behind me and peers into my cubicle. I’m so entranced by the pictures on the screen that I don’t even hear her until she clears her throat. I jump, and go to switch the windows on my computer. My hands are shaking so badly that I fumble with the mouse and the image stays there: a woman’s rosy cheeks, with a feminine hand, long-nailed, resting on them. The woman was spanked so hard just a moment before the picture was snapped that hand-prints are still evident. I finally get the window closed and swivel on my office chair.

  “Juliette,” she says. “Could you come see me in my office, please?”

  I get a sick feeling. It’s over. I’ve been caught. I’m in big trouble; I might even be fired.

  I’m still on probation. I can be fired at the drop of the hat. And I really, really need this job. Brent really needs me to keep this job, so he can do his art.

  “Sure,” I mumble, and start to get up from my chair, quickly jiggling my mouse to see if there’s anything else I should close out before leaving the computer.

  “Ther
e’s no need for that,” Carrie says crisply. “I’ve already seen it.”

  My head spins. I’ve already lost the job. I’m going to be fired. I can already hear my phone ringing with credit card collection calls.

  I follow Carrie into her corner office with the enormous windows. She sits behind her desk and turns to her computer.

  “Please close the door,” she says absently, absorbed in what she’s doing on the screen.

  Now I know I’m in for it. I obey, the quiet thunk of the door like the fall of the guillotine.

  “And turn the blinds, please,” says Carrie, still sounding distracted and uninterested.

  My God, this is really going to be humiliating. I’ve seen her fire people before – for much less than I was doing a moment ago. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes as I pull the chain that closes the blinds. What will I do? Beg? Plead? Tell her I won’t do it again? Tell her I really need the job?

  “Have a seat,” Carrie tells me, and when I do I see that she’s turned her flat-panel monitor so that we can both see it.

  There it is on the screen: Spanked Sluts. The website I was just looking at, the website that I’ve looked at many times in my three weeks here. The website that always makes me wet enough to soak my seat. I sit nervously in the chair facing Carrie’s desk.

  “I can explain,” I begin, my voice sounding squeaky.

  “I don’t think so,” Carrie says. “Or, rather, you don’t need to. You’re looking at porn at work. You know our company rules state that computers are not to be used for personal business.”

  I open my mouth to speak, struggling for an excuse as to why I had to look at Spanked Sluts, why it was an integral part of my job. I can’t find one. I can feel my face going hot.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s just that it’s been so slow, and –”

  Carrie clicks her mouse, changing windows. On the screen is Red-Cheeked Girls, another of my favorite websites. Another click, and it’s Over The Knee. Punished Tarts. Red-Cheeked Schoolgirls. Slave Girrls Spanked. Forced To Bend Over. And my very favorite: Youvebeenaverybadgirl.com.