Category Archives: erotica

In silence, Leon took Alessandra’s hand, and she squeezed his elbow. It was not like they had never had sex before, but they had never made love before.

That was what this was.

The anticipation ran through her like electricity, and she felt the tension in his body too. Excitement and maybe trepidation?

She kissed his upper arm, and he squeezed her hand tighter. They walked into the cabin, and he pressed her to the wall, cupped her face, and kissed her so deeply. Alessandra could not keep her hands off of his body. She knew his body so well, every each of him even though they had had sex before infrequently. His nipples were hard as she rolled one between her fingers, and he licked the corners of her mouth, sucking fiercely on her lower lip. 

Their closeness, their fierce expression of their desire was louder than anything around them. Their silence was more delicate than the silence of the wilderness.

They silently lowered themselves to the floor because neither of them could wait to get to the bed and because on the furry rug was the same as anything else. 

Alessandra looked up at Leon as he settled above her and the look on his face was not any different than how he always looked at her. But now she saw him and how much he cared for her. She caressed his face and he closed his eyes with an orgasmic bliss that made her eyes water and her body open even more.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Cleo needed her independence.

She went on another “adventure”–to find him.

She knew that she needed to see him again, because she was so heavy when she went to touch herself that she could barely bring herself to achieve pleasure because her labia was thick. She ached for him, and she was afraid he would know it when he touched her.

“He”—she did not even say his name in her head, she thought of him “Him,” like something reverent. She texted him, and he texted her what was she waiting for?

He touched her like she touched ripe fruit. Between her legs heavy and wet, he caressed her until she groaned with her need and ache.

“What?” he asked, as he touched her like he was picking a mango or something. Cleo was wet and sticky to the top of her thighs. She leaned against him helplessly, and he did not stop touching her.

“You…know…what!” she was incoherent to herself, as he played with her even more. She had memorized his fingers, and he touched her like he had memorized her.

“You have to tell me, you keep coming to me but you never tell me. I need to hear what you want from me,” he semi-pleaded.
“I want you,” she said helplessly, and he stopped touching her. He took her face in his hands and she could smell herself on his fingers. He kissed her, and she nibbled his lips like she was ingesting them. So hungry she was his lips, his taste, his mouth that she did not even need him to make contact with her body in any other way but their lips.

Cadmus had asked her if she had enjoyed her adventure—this was not an adventure anymore. She wanted this man, needed him in a way she had never needed Cadmus and she did not need to want Cadmus that way.

What she felt as her lips throbbed–both sets–was something she was not expecting to feel, and she wanted to explore it as much as she could.

With Him.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Another afterparty, another incidence of her sitting close to Alessandra–would this foretell another night like the last one they had together? Rabekkah was nervous, and a bit damp about her temples when Alessandra sat next to her.

Everyone was drawn to Alessandra because she was beautiful, and even with a table of women whose sexuality was more vast than the colors of the rainbow everyone watched her. Aida was forgotten even though it had been her show and a successful one at that. But Alessa was always the star where she was.

Aida looked between her and Alessa, and Rabekkah knew she saw something. After she had gotten champagne for the both of them in the gallery she noticed that Aida had been less flirty with her. Did Alessandra tell her about them? Did Aida think now that she was expecting to sleep with her as well, that she was an art star fucker?

Being with Alessandra had been a bad decision because people could find out and think that was how she wanted to advance her career. But Rabekkah was a good artist herself, and it did not matter who she slept with. Or did it?

She reached for another glass of champagne, and she felt Alessandra rest her hand on her lap. With all of the women drinking champagne, and Aida getting up to talk to the director of the gallery at the end of the table it seemed that no one noticed them.  Rabekkah was already wet–uncomfortably so and to wear this dress she could not wear underwear. Alessandra probably guessed at that, and she easily rested her hand on the top of her thigh and looked at her. Rabekkah was desperate to be touched, as she licked her lips and spread her legs more.

Alessandra moved her hand, and Rabekkah audibly sighed. Alessandra smiled and squeezed her thigh.

It was then that another gorgeous dark-haired woman walked in and Rabekkah recognized her as Eliza Morton, the socialite and wife of gazillionaire Rafe Morton. She looked nervous as she rushed to what had been Aida’s seat, and then her face fell as she looked up at her and Alessandra.

Rabekkah heard Alessandra audibly sigh now. 

Eliza looked at both of them with a smile, and in case Rabekkah was uncertain, Aida came over and exclaimed,

“Eliza! Thank you for coming my love! Alessandra came without you and I was surprised!”

Alessandra winced and Eliza smiled demurely. Rabekkah looked between them and she realized that Eliza Morton was the heartache that Alessandra was recovering from. 

Rabekkah did not know how to feel knowing Alessandra had been so in love with Eliza Morton, and what was she compared to Eliza?

“Excuse me,” Rabekkah said, and excused herself to the bathroom. Before she could lock the door, Alessandra pushed her back into the bathroom.

“Please, don’t humiliate me anymore. I made a fool of myself and you were with Eliza Morton? I cannot compare to her in my wildest dreams!” Rabekkah cried, and Alessandra pressed her to the wall.

“I was never with Eliza, and even if I had been, I want to be with you now.

Alessandra kissed her and outright pulled up her form-fitting dress and slipped her fingers inside of her. Rabekkah opened her mouth wider to take in Alessandra’s tongue and spread her legs more for her fingers to explore. She knew how this night was most likely going to end and there was nothing she could do about it…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Rabekkah saw her reflection in the window sitting across from Alessandra. She knew that people were looking at them and on the surface thinking what was she doing sitting across from her?

It was her second glass of champagne—Alessandra had handed it to her. Leon had been trying to set them up all night, and Rabekkah did not mind at all. But she was afraid that Alessa was not into it even if she allowed her to call her by her diminutive name. All around them was the upper crust of the art scene, Rabekkah had somehow managed to get into this world and she was not going to mess up her opportunity even with a beautiful woman like Alessandra Wagnall. 

But when Alessandra put her hand on her knee, she shot a glance at her and the very sober artist met her gaze head on.

“You are beautiful,” Alessandra said looking at her. “If I were not so messed up, I would fuck you tonight but you do not deserve to be my second choice.”

“But I want you,” Rabekkah said, and took a huge sip of champagne so she would not say anything else. She never imagined that Alessandra would fall in love with her, but she wanted to be with her. And with Alessandra’s hand squeezing her knee, she was getting wet between her legs and her eyes which surprised her. But from the beauty of the art and the beauty of Alessandra she was completely overwhelmed.

Alessandra smiled at her.

“You want my pussy–you do not know me!”

“That is the only way to get to know a woman is to make love to her–to really know her.”

“Is that so?” Alessandra stared at her and she almost swooned. She put down her glass of champagne, and she felt Alessandra squeeze her thigh. “Spread your legs and let me see how much you want to know me Rabekkah.”

Rabekkah spread her legs as she was told, and she looked into Alessandra’s eyes as she pushed her finger in and out of her. Where they were sitting no one had any idea and if they did she did not care because she wanted Alessandra to do this to her.

She watched Alessandra, as she stopped fingering her and she put her fingers in her mouth. Rabekkah was on fire wondering how she tasted to her as she licked her fingers and left one finger in her mouth to suck on.

To savor her?

Alessandra stood up, and she stood up with her. She followed her out of the door and they got into the car that was waiting for her.

“Where are we going?” Rabekkah asked.

“To my place–wasn’t that what you wanted?”

Rabekkah nodded, as she got into the car with her.

“I want to taste you now.”

Alessandra spread her legs, and Rabekkah knelt before her. Alessandra felt warm, and she kissed her knees and the inside of her thighs and closed her eyes as she hoped she could make Alessandra forget whoever it was that was on her mind with her mouth.

More Wicked Wednesday here. You can read my other series here.

Sally looked at a picture of herself when she was a teenager. She looked so much like, or her daughter Chloe had looked so much like her. 

Sally wished sometimes that she could go back to those times when she was young, and before all of the things that had happened to her had happened to her.  Would she still have had Chloe? And this was not because she did not love her daughter, but because she wondered if she would have wanted to have her if she had known she was going to die so young and that she would be left to mourn and grieve for her?

But when she was born, Chloe was the most beautiful baby. She was a teenager still, but she had given birth to such a perfect and beautiful baby.

“Is that your daughter?”

Sally looked up at Calvin with a smile.

“No, this is me.”

“Beautiful,” he said and kissed her forehead. She reached for his hand, She wanted to feel him. She wanted him close.

He pulled her up by one hand, and kissed her mouth. 

It felt so soothing to have him look at her and touch her. It was a way for her to decompress and not think so much about her pain.

He had only given her joy so far.

The sad tears on her face turned to warm, happy ones.

She was not a teenager anymore, but her feelings and her needs were almost adolescent. His hand inside her blouse felt almost like innocence. Although her nipple was achingly hard.

She ached for more.

Her feelings for him were effusive like those of a teenager, but with none of the emotional or physical innocence anymore.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Calvin wrapped his arms about Sally. It was not a warm day, but it was not that cold as they sat on the ground by the calla lillies she had placed on the grave of her daughter.

She had told him about Chloe, that she had died too young. But it was here that she told him about how she died, and the short estrangement they had had leading up to her death.

“She was like me, she fell in love with the wrong man and it was her undoing.”

Calvin kissed her damp temple and damp cheek. He was silent, but he wondered if she meant that so literally. Was he just another bad chocie to her?  or would he have a real chance with her?

He helped her up, and her slightly soiled coat did not seem to bother her as she looked down at the white calla lillies and the headstone that had a picture of the girl who looked like a younger version of her mother. It made him lachrymose as well because she was so young and beautiful and she should not be dead.

At home—well his apartment—Sally clung to him. He could not resist her, but he was not sure what she wanted so soon after the mournful event they had shared together. She caressed his face, and stood on her toes to kiss him.

“Please,” she said kissing him, until he could not resist and followed her to the couch. She slowly unbuttoned her coat and her dress and without panties on, he immediately stared at the apex atop her shapely thighs. He watched her spread her legs and look at his lips. He licked his lips, before he kissed her there and then stuck his tongue in. 

Sally ran her hands through his hair, and he licked her greedily. Needing that affirmation from her, and needing to feel as close fo her as he could.

To be her favorite mistake if that was all he was to her.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Sally is quite the character, in case you forgot how she goes along with this series…here is an older post.

Eliza was not sad about Oscar and Sally. First off she had no right to be. Before this most recent incarnation of their intimate relationship, she had been telling Oscar about Terrence. And now they were at an intimate lounge with Sally–so she better not be.

Oscar had gotten up from the table to get drinks—he had not had to ask either woman what she wanted to drink. Sally looked at her when he walked away, with a smile.

“You know Oscar started telling me about you when we were driving up here, and I was a little,” she smiled, and looked at Eliza with eyes that Eliza could not decipher. “I was a little jealous because I was his first relationship, but you were his first adult relationship. The way he picked you up in the bar, because he could tell, and the fact that even when you are not together there is still a draw. A magnet…”

“Well it is the same with you, no? I was jealous of you from the way that he described you. The way that you had him, and stayed in his mind. And then you appeared, but now I am not jealous. You’re lovely, and I want Oscar to have all of the love that he wants. I want him to be happy.”

Sally nodded.

“Me too, I will always love him, I want him to have everything he wants.”

Oscar came back with their drinks and each woman took hers, intuitively knowing that it was her drink. Oscar sat in the middle of them. Sally put her hand on his thigh, and kissed his jaw. Eliza cuddled closer to him, and in the view of Sally’s ease with his body, felt competitive with her.

Sally caressed his thigh, and plied him with kisses, and Eliza placed her hand on his knee. Oscar looked unsettled, Eliza was not sure if it was because he was being touched or what. They were in an adult club, which she had thought was by chance.

Apparently it was not for Sally, who moved her hand from Oscar’s thigh, and pulled down her dress at the top—she was not wearing a bra–and pulled up her dress from the bottom.

She was not wearing panties.

Eliza was not sure what was going to happen, Oscar looked at Sally with pure lust, his scotch trembling in his hands. Eliza stared at Sally too, she was beautiful and wanton, and she knew what she wanted.

Oscar.

Eliza leaned over, and whispered in his ear.

“I’m okay with whatever you want to do, I am not upset or sad or anything about this. I want you to be happy. Do what you want.”

Eliza moved away from him, and he put his hand on her thigh.

“I want both of you, now.”

Looking between him and Sally, Eliza swallowed. She had never had a threesome, and she wanted to give Oscar what he wanted but she did not know what she wanted.

“Did you plan this,” she asked Oscar, and looked at Sally who was pleasuring herself.

Oscar shook his head.

“No, I came in here with no intentions, but now. Watching Sally, and having you here too? That is what I want.”

He kissed her, and Eliza could not say that she was not unfazed by the sexy environment. Or the beauty and sensuality of Oscar and Sally…

More Wicked Wednesday here: