The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 19: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women (2 page)

“Mmmmm, very good, Ms. Evers,” he said. “Now on to the – second phase of our encounter.”

Dean rose, and Shanna lay quivering on the bed. Soon, she heard a low humming coming from the next room. What could he be up to? She didn’t have to wait long to find out. Dean then led her to another room. It was hot and steamy inside. He took her hand.

“Careful,” he said. “Watch your step.” He took her arm and put his other hand on the small of her back and led her up a few stairs. Then he stepped around her and she heard water sloshing. “Step down,” he said. “Carefully.”

Shanna stepped down into steamy water. Dean put his hands on her shoulders and lowered her into the hot water, then flicked a switch and the hot tub bubbled to life. Shanna smiled, pleased at Dean’s participation and attention to detail in the fantasy.

She sat in the water, which bubbled up around her shoulders and soon felt Dean’s hands on her thighs, parting them, spreading her apart, the hot water reaching every crevasse. His fingers, cooler than the water, slid between the lips of her hot pussy, his thumb working over the nub of her clitoris, which had risen like a tiny penis in excitement.

Shanna sighed, sinking into the water, her mound rubbing into his hand as he stimulated her. Her desire grew deep in her belly, and she moaned, wanting him.

His body came closer, and she felt his legs wrap around her waist in the water, his hard cock thrusting up between her breasts. She reached up, cupping them in her hands and pushed them together around his cock, and he began to move his hips faster and faster, sliding up and down between her ample bosoms.

She felt him reach around behind her head, and he pulled off the blindfold. They were in a lush hot tub room, rife with plants and lit candles. She looked up to meet his eyes, but saw he could not take his own from the sight of his cock thrusting between her tits.

She followed his eyes down and could see the flushed pink, shiny head of his cock slide up between her breasts, cum beginning to leak from the tip. She bent her head, flicking her tongue and licked at it and Dean moaned with desire.

Shanna looked up at him wickedly. “Is this the flexible part?” she asked.

Dean’s smile was equally wicked. “No,” he said. “This is.” With that he pulled her into his lap, her back against his chest. He turned in the water then, and reached down, putting his hands under her thighs and pulling her legs up, her knees crushed to her chest, opening her like a butterfly, her entire pussy exposed in the water, her vagina open and pulsing, her clit poking out at the top.

Then he moved forward, positioning her open pussy in the path of the strongest hot tub jet. The water pounded against the sensitive tissue, vibrating and pulsing against her clit, her opening, like a ghost cock, fucking her.

Shanna’s hips bucked against the jet, she moaned, her pussy throbbing as if it was filled with Dean’s cock. He moved her closer, pulling her legs up over her shoulders, maneuvering her in the pulsing jet.

Then he turned slightly and a lower jet began to pound against her open asshole, causing deeper sensations in her, unknown sensations. At the same time, he moved his hand, pushing his fingers into her pussy as the water pounded her ass. His thumb snaked up, rubbing her clit roughly and Shanna cried out, her pussy contracting around his fingers as she began to come.

Dean disengaged her roughly, turning her in the water to him, impaling her with his stiff cock, his hips bucking up against her, the hot, steamy water gouting up between them, splashing it and their mutual cum against their chests and faces.

***

The next morning a tousle-haired Shanna came sleepily down to the kitchen. Dean was at the counter in a pair of pajama bottoms, looking sexier than Shanna ever remembered. She smiled at him, thinking about their wonderful night in the suite of the most expensive hotel in town. They’d left early in the morning, walking hand in hand down the street to a bakery that was just opening, like new lovers, sharing a roll before going home to their own bed for some rest.

Dean walked over and kissed her passionately on the mouth, delivering a cup of coffee, made just the way she liked it. She smiled, lifting the cup to her lips. “Mmmmmm,” she said. “This is wonderful.” She looked up into his green eyes. “But not as wonderful as you were last night.”

He smiled and reached behind him on the counter, presenting her with the other envelope. “Well,” he said. “I can’t wait to see what you make of this, babe.” He kissed her again, then sauntered out for a shower. Shanna watched him walking away, her eyes lingering on his tight ass beneath the soft, cotton pajama bottoms. A shiver went through her as she thought about his hands on her the previous evening, the way he moved in her, the feeling of the hot water pulsing against her open pussy.

She shivered, wetness growing between her legs. She thought about rushing into the bathroom, joining him in the shower, but looking at the clock knew he had to be getting ready for work — and they were both already a little weary from their late night frolic.

Shanna gently tore the envelope open. Inside on the little card she had provided, Dean had written
MOTIONLESS, WICKED, INNOCENT
. “Well,” she said to herself, looking at the words. “I certainly have my work cut out for me.”

***

It was Friday night, and Dean was running a little late after work. Shanna paced nervously, her stiletto heels click-clacking on the tile floor. She went to the mirror in the foyer, giving herself one last cursory glance.

She cupped her naked breasts, held high by the black, leather bustier, smoothed her hands down her tiny waist and curvy hips. Her long nails were painted blood red, and she had on long, black and silver false eyelashes and hot red lipstick.

Her dark hair fell to the middle of her back and was tousled. She was wearing a sweeping black skirt, slit up the front, giving a view of her furry muff. Her legs were encased in black, net stockings with garters. Atop her head was a sassy, little witch’s hat. She looked wicked, indeed.

Suddenly, she heard Dean’s key in the lock. She took her stance in the hall, facing the door, and as he walked in, he beheld her standing there, legs spread and hands on her hips, glaring at him. In her hand she held a silver and white swirled, blown glass wand about eight inches long. She held it out, pointing it at him. “How dare you make me wait!” she hissed.

Dean’s eyes were wide with surprise, taking in Shanna’s costume and demeanor. He slowly set his briefcase on the floor and closed the door behind him, not taking his gaze from her. His eyes traveled over her body, her breasts, her exposed pussy, her long legs. He licked his lips.

“Lock the door,” Shanna said, her voice low and deadly. Dean turned obediently and locked the door. Shanna stepped slowly to the side table in the foyer, her hips undulating as she walked in the stiletto heels. At the side table, she poured deep, red wine into a glass. She walked over to Dean, staring into his eyes. She stood close to him.

“You are bold, coming into my dwelling,” she said, a smile on her lips. “Let me give you a glass of wine for your trouble.”

Dean loosened his tie. “I would not drink your poison, witch!” he said, playing along.

Shanna reached down and ran her long nails up his thigh, raking them teasingly over his growing erection. “Oh, I think you will,” she said. “I think you will do everything I wish!”

“Do not molest me, witch!” he said, drawing himself up. “For I am a holy man, and chaste!”

“Mmmmmm,” Shanna purred. “An innocent.” She leaned forward and nibbled his neck. She placed the glass in his hand. “Drink, innocent!” She stepped back and pointed the wand at him. “Drink!”

Dean’s eyes became glassy. He raised the glass to his lips. “Yes, Mistress,” he said. His lips were red with the wine. Shanna licked the wine from his mouth and kissed him deeply. “Remove your clothing!” she ordered.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Shanna turned and walked away from him. She sat in a chair at the end of the foyer hall. She slowly opened her legs, exposing her pink flower. Dean had removed his tie and shirt and dropped them at the door. He was staring down the hall, taking in Shanna’s long legs, her open pussy.

He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his slacks, then slid them slowly down, his already stiff cock popping up out of them and pointing at the ceiling. He bent and removed his stockings and shoes, standing stark naked before her.

Shanna nodded appreciatively. “I seen you’ve brought a wand of your own,” she said. “Let us see how powerful it is.” She crooked her finger. “Come to me, innocent!” she said. “You are powerless! Unable to move unless I allow it!”

“Yes... Mistress,” Dean sighed as Shanna wrapped her red, red lips around the head of his cock, sucking the glans into her mouth, running her tongue around the ridge of the head. Dean’s legs quivered.

Shanna pushed her mouth over his cock, taking as much as she could, the head at the back of her throat, she made swallowing motions, engulfing the head, making Dean moan with pleasure. Suddenly, she stopped, standing before him. “Walk,” she said, pushing him toward the dining room.

Shanna had removed all the chairs from around the table earlier that day. There was a long silk scarf tied to the top of each table leg. “Lie down!” she commanded.

A slight smile played around Dean’s lips as he sat on the table, then he controlled himself and concentrated on looking frightened, controlled. Shanna held the glass wand out. “You are powerless!” she told him. “I’ve cast my spell upon you!”

“Yes, Mistress,” he said, lying on the table, his considerable erection poking up like a baton.

Shanna slid the wand between her breasts and began walking around the table and tying Dean’s arms and legs to the table legs. She leaned over, her hot breath in his ear. “And now I shall do wicked things to you, my dear!”

“Please spare me!” Dean begged. “For I am a holy man who has never given myself to the pleasures of the flesh!”

“Silence!” Shanna demanded. “There is no mercy for one who walks so boldly into my dwelling!” She flicked her tongue in his ear, and stood at his head. She began running her hands over his chest, her pussy so close to his head that he could smell her musk. Beneath her hands, his nipples tensed. Shanna chuckled and teased them with her long nails. Dean shivered, his cock quivering. “Do you like that, my innocent?” she whispered.

“No! Please – stop,” Dean said with considerable effort.

Shanna then grasped both nipples, pinching and rolling them between her fingers the way Dean did to her. Just doing it to him made her nipples hard. She leaned over him, rubbing the tough, little nubs over his face, where his five o’clock shadow brushed them roughly.

“Suck!” she demanded, and Dean opened his mouth and took one nipple between his lips, rolling it on his tongue, teasing it with his teeth. Shanna sighed, reaching up to roll her other nipple between her fingers, pressing her muff on Dean’s shaggy head of hair, rubbing against him. She could feel her honey begin to flow, making her moist and slippery.

She climbed on the table then, straddling him, her pussy hot and open, her deep pink flower revealed to him. She could see him staring, and she smiled and reached down, opening herself with her hands, spreading her lips wide, the shining flesh, the opening, the tiny bud so close, her juices making her shine.

She reached down and began to touch herself, rubbing one finger up and down the slit, lingering on her clit, the little mushroom-like head rearing up at her touch, poking out. She began to breath harder as she pleasured herself before him, torturing him with it, making him watch as her fingers slid up inside, coming out wet and dripping with her cum.

“Please, Mistress!” he breathed, finally.

Shanna arched an eyebrow. “What do you want, innocent?” She stared into his eyes.