A Taste Of Erotica

If you’re not familiar with the site you may have trouble locating the erotic stories.  They can be found on the page called “Pleasure Than Fiction”, but to make it easy, here are bits of a few with links to the full text. Enjoy- O.

Undeniable

It’s as if his lust seeped under the door, slid across the floor and entered my toes, rose past my ankles, swirled around my knees, slipped between my thighs, and penetrated me right there.  I felt myself suck in a slow, strong breath and hoped the client didn’t notice that in that instant my pussy was set on fire.

I held my breath, pulling my thighs together, willing my mind to control the ache that now resided there.  I could see David chuckle to himself.  He knew that I was coming undone.  And he loved the power. more…

The Cabin

For the second time in less than twenty four hours Andrew was awakened from a sound sleep by unfamiliar noises in the night. He lay on his back, his heart beating fast as he cleared the sleep from the corners of his mind. He had been dreaming. He’d been dreaming of Camille, one like the dreams from their high school days. His hand had managed to find his cock, stiff and warm. He blinked in the darkness, thinking of how she looked, how her skin felt, the way her dark, curly hair fell across her face, the way she moaned and gasped his name-

“Andrew!” He bolted upright. “Andrew, are you awake?”

“Uh, yeah, what’s going on?” he whispered back.

“There’s something downstairs. I can hear something down there!” more…

Dr. Daniels’ Willing Patient

As the elevator rose through the hospital an awkward silence fell between us and I felt his eyes on me.

“You headed to the cafeteria?” he asked, clearing his throat.

I shook my head, “Just wandering.”

Silence.

“I’m headed to 6,” he said, “trying to get some rest while it’s quiet downstairs.”

“I thought that floor was closed for construction?”

“It is”, he said nodding, “but there are some patient rooms in the far wing that are finished.”

I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye and found his eyes still on me.  It was as if I could hear his next thought:

Come with me. more…

Meet Mr. Forbidden

Forbidden

This is something women and men can relate to- that person you want so badly it makes you throb between your legs- but you know, you know is bad for you in some way.

But the sex. Ohhhh the sex is so good- and you know the other person, the object of your desire- would be only more than happy to get you off a few times.

I refer to these people as forbidden.

I have 1 such man in my life right now- well, probably 2, but, we will stick with the clearest example I can give.

Mister Forbidden is an ex lover from quite some years back. Our relationship was always very complicated and ended in horrific form. I’m wayyyy past being “over” him in a romantic sense- and therein is my dilemma.

Though I do have another man with whom I share a deep and true love, we are not together- so I’m single right now. There are special relationships, but no realistic prospects for anything long term.

Mister Forbidden is not one of those special relationships. He just is. I know that he carries feelings for me that I do not share. I also know that he is not strong enough to keep those feelings in check. I try- oh do I try- to maintain clear boundaries because of this. I would like nothing else than to be able to fuck him on a regular basis- but he cannot handle it- I am certain.

His feelings would bubble up and then things would get really complicated. Even if I wanted to have romantic feelings towards him, he’s terrible in relationships! I’ve experienced it and I’ve seen it in the relationships he’s had since. I have a policy that I never go backwards. Once it’s over, it’s over. This is not the man I’m supposed to be with for the rest of my life, if there even is such a thing- I really don’t know.

ANYWAY- Even though I know all of this, I still struggle. I’ll even admit to having slipped once or twice. Not sex- but close…verrrrrry close. Close enough that I know he can still do something to me.

But…he is Mister Forbidden. Because he wouldn’t be able to handle it, emotionally, and it’s not fair for me to take advantage of his willingness to make me cum when I know I have no intention of giving anything in return.

And then there’s… well… the kind of sex I enjoy. I’m not sure he could handle that either…

When we were together, he was very…conservative- in bed. He found me much more liberal and it intimidated him. We had discussions about it. He was also devoutly religious (to a fault- yes, a fault) and I always felt like Jesus was in our bed- trust me, the Lord should never be in your bed, unless you’re taking his name in vain.

It’s probably why the next long term relationship I had after Mister Forbidden was with a wonderful man who let me fuck him as much as he fucked me.

I know there are women out there who experience sex as something they receive from a man. He does all the work and we give verbal and physical cues about how he’s doing and if we like it.

That’s all well and good. I enjoy that as well- I enjoy receiving sex from a man. But I also enjoy giving sex to a man. I enjoy doing things to a man just as much- if not more- as I enjoy having him do things to me.

I like to push the envelope. I like to have sex regularly. I like a variety of positions and scenarios *wink* and I like a man who isn’t afraid to talk during sex- or here me say some things.

But Mister Forbidden couldn’t handle that then, and I highly doubt he can handle it now.

I won’t be made to feel guilty, dirty, or less of a moral woman because of my sexual preferences. I just refuse to deal with that, and it is totally based on my previous relationship with him based on his issues and views about sex.

Still. Yes. I’m so damn tempted. Because the sex he gives is so good. I’m not an easy woman to get in bed. I can go long periods of time not having sex at all because I only sleep with people who I’m certain I are in tune with me, and my body. I know what kind of sex we’ll have long before we actually have it.

That’s the problem with Mister Forbidden. I know from actual experience that if I picked up the phone right now and told him to come over, he would. And he would make me have a few orgasms before he left.

The problem is, I would be too concerned with whether or not I could really just let go and be my authentic self in bed with him, that I wouldn’t actually enjoy it. I know, it’s a cruel, cruel world.

So I stay away from Mister Forbidden. Anything less is just too complicated.

Too Many Sex Partners?

Here’s a question for you- how many sex partners is too many for a person to have at one time- no, not threesomes or foursomes.

Is it alright to, say- have sex with a different person each day of the week?  Is the standard different for men than for women?

I was brought up in a a very conservative Catholic family and went to a very conservative Catholic school.  Parents didn’t really talk to their kids about sex- they left it up to the school, and in turn- the church.  Couple all of that with the traditions, thoughts and beliefs of the Japanese side of the family and you have just a smidge of an idea of what growing up was like for me.

So I was taught that sex before marriage was bad, masturbation would make a person go blind, and having more than one sexual partner meant you were the Devil’s whore and would never get into heaven- no joke.

Thus, even after I shed the church from my life in terms of the habit of going each week, I still had these kinds of viewpoints (commonly referred to as “Catholic Guilt”) seared into my mind.

For most of my sexual life I only had one sex partner at a time.  I wasn’t really concerned about risk factors, I was concerned with perception (whether people knew or not, I knew what they’d think if they ever found out) over sexual satisfaction.  Over time, that changed.  The “faithful” will say that’s because I stopped going to Church, I say it’s because I grew up and because more self aware and wasn’t afraid to challenge these things which I’d never thought to question before.

It also bothered me (still does) a great deal that a significant double standard exists between men and women when it comes to this issue.  A man won’t necessarily be called a “ho” if he’s seeing three women at one time, sleeping with all of them.  A woman would definitely be regarded as loose or fast or both.

I’m a long term relationship person- not a lot of hopping around and dating for me, so the opportunity and desire to sleep with a bunch of different men isn’t very high for me.  I currently have 2 different men that I’m sleeping with- and no, I”m not about to compare them or those experiences on any level.

The more sex partners a person has, the more risk they open themselves to, so responsibility is key; protection, protection, protection.  You know those people you’ve heard say “well we were out of condoms so, you know…”- I’m not one of those people.  If we didn’t have condoms, we didn’t have sex (which actually means he went to 7-11 on the corner for a few 3 packs)- I can wait.  I’m never so aroused that I just can’t control myself- most people who use that excuse don’t really mean it, they’re just weak and want to believe it.

So my assumption is that both of the men I am seeing are sleeping with at least 1 other woman- that’s not a mark against them, just the safest bet a person could make.  We’re all grown here, no one is committed to the other in a relationship or anything like that- but we don’t need to talk about it because I just assume it’s a reality and respond accordingly for my own protection and my partners.

I can’t imagine having 3 or more sex partners, just because I think for one, I would be exhausted, and for two, I would be exhausted.

What do you think?  How many is too many?  Should the standard for the sexes be different?

Verbal Hypnotist…

His name is David.  Yes, he is one of the League of Extraordinary Snake Charmers I’ve mentioned before.  This man *shudder* can make me cum with his words alone- and he can fuck me like no one else- unique only to him.

We met because for a time we shared an office-  just randomly rented the same space in the same building.  Imagine a random office tower in a bustling city.  Take the elevator to the 36th floor and you’d find an entire floor empty.  A space which would ordinarily hold 200 employees in cubicles and executive suites had just 2 occupants- David and me.

Our cubicles sat next to each other and like me, David would come and go on a consistent schedule, working on, well, whatever he was working on.  We exchanged greetings and small talk, but for a few weeks, that was it.

There was a witty chemistry from the beginning, as both of us worked to make the best of what otherwise could have been an awkward situation.  We were strangers who just happened to have a mutual friend in the real estate business with a bunch of empty offices.

His authentic charm and sharp tongue grabbed my attention right away.

That’s not a simple accomplishment.  This is going to come off snobbish, but people bore me pretty quickly- and it can be hard for men and women to have genuine conversation when they first meet- there is a lot of posturing and trying to impress.

There was none of that here- it flowed pretty easily and escalated pretty quickly too, probably because there was physical attraction on both sides from the beginning.  He’s six foot two, caramel complexion, short hair, and an authentic gentleman, which, I’m a sucker for.  His consideration always put me at ease.  Idle chit chat turned to long conversations over lunch and him visiting my cubicle a few times a week.  Turns out he’s a writer, which I think explained some of the natural attraction- I am perpetually in love with the Inkwell.

Before I knew it, he was charming me- whether intentional or not, it was happening.  He was intriguing, sure, but it was the little things that got my attention- and the unexpected things.  Like when he would walk me to the elevator.  At first I thought nothing of it, he’d just sort of walk along with me and we’d talk about insignificant things.  And then, one day, as I gathered my jacket and bag, he stood at my cubicle and offered me his arm.  From that day on, if ever I was in the office and left before him, he stopped what he was doing and walked me to the elevator.  What can I say- I’m a sucker.

He made sure the office freezer always had my favorite ice cream.  On days we missed each other, he’d leave a sticky note on my computer, which of course made me smile like a silly school girl.  He bought me flowers on my birthday- it was the only gift I got.  When he asked me to dinner the first time, I had to work hard to play it cool when I said yes.  The food was great- the time together was better.  All the while the magnetism grew stronger.

There are different levels of attraction between the sexes. This wasn’t “oh he’s kinda cute”, no, it was more like “I want that man all up in this pussy”- and I couldn’t really explain why.

I soon learned, much to my amazement, that he could arouse my body with words- it didn’t have to be erotic or sexual, it could be anything… he could describe the paint-drying process and I’d be squirming in my chair.  The voice, syntax, and analogies… omg his analogies.  I’d find myself thinking about him and wondering what his touch felt like, what bliss his lips could create on mine, what portrait our bodies could paint once joined.

It was distracting.  Pretty soon I would sit for hours in my cubicle, day after day, sure I could feel him thinking about me on the other side of the 4 foot partition that separated us.  Either I was conjuring things in my mind, or the sexual tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

He was patient.  Very deliberate.  I imagine we both enjoyed the tension that can only be created before you satisfy desires.

The first time he touched me, the first time he kissed me, I knew I was in trouble, I mean in. trouble.

We transitioned naturally into a sexual relationship- a very intimate sexual relationship.  Affection was obvious on both sides.  But we had limits on where we would go emotionally, and we stuck to them.  Still…there was an undercurrent that made the sex unlike any other I’ve ever experienced.  Whatever it was we were sharing, I trusted him implicitly with my body.  I never held back sexually.  I could feel his attraction every time we were in the same space…even when we weren’t.    He wanted me as much and as often as I wanted him.  It made everything that much more intense.

We had fun, dirty, sexy, steamy, juicy  sex almost every day.  Quickies, on the floor, in the shower, on the conference room table, for hours at a time, every position two people can create…

The more we had sex, the more I noticed just how well he could captivate my body.  I became aware of a moment- an actual moment during sex when my consciousness would shift and my body became perfectly entranced by him.  It’s the work of his charm, that exact second I become his and the power I normally have over myself dissolves.  Once I hit that spot, it’s all over.  I have not a single shred of modesty and I say all the things I’d just as well die than say to anyone else.  I moan, gasp, grunt, pant, giggle, and talk, talk, talk.  I really can’t stop myself  from doing it- he takes me into that space and it’s a reaction to his cause.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.