101 EROTICA STORIES (68 page)

She shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I really don’t know.” she answered honestly. “You’ve made my head stop working,” she said with a small laugh.

“Well, if you are going to invite some girl over, make sure to invite me too.” he said jokingly.

But Eva didn’t think it was a joke. She pinched his arm, made sure that he’d yelp in pain. “I’m not sharing you.”

He grinned, pleased at that. He wasn’t going to share her as well. She just didn’t know it yet. And he’ll make sure that she’s not going back to her lick-fest ways. He’ll stuff all her holes with his cock and make her happy with just that.

Looking out from my bedroom window, I couldn’t help but want to cuddle up with a nice book and have a full mug of hot chocolate. I opened the windows just so I could smell the damp earth during the thunderstorm. There is something refreshing about the after the rain smell and I am drawn to it, my nose wanting it for as long as it would last. I looked at my mobile phone and saw the picture of my boyfriend that served as my wallpaper. Just looking at him makes me smile----he is something that defies categorization. He’s rugged yet decent, strong but tender, wilful but not suffocating, smart yet sweet. Our love story took more than a decade to take place, but it was a decade filled with friendship, until it simmered into something else entirely. He would often tease me, saying that for a long time that I was just something he couldn’t have. I remember the countless of times he’d tell me he loves me and I’d pretend I am not hearing anything. It must have been pretty hard for him but he never gave up on me. Ever.

Before we became a couple, I have personal issues with intimacy. It’s as if I was totally incapable of opening up to someone. At 26, I would never let anything go beyond a kiss. I can count the times I have driven a man to frustration, but I always, always have gotten away with it. So yeah, at 26 I was still a virgin and not that it bothered of course. Just thinking about the whole act then would have sent shivers down my spine. I was scared more than I cared to admit---of the ripping pain that I often hear about and the emotional connotation of being under a man----literally and figuratively. It was this very guy who changed all that----the very same man who transformed a girl next door into a delectable steaming wanton. It was a transformation that surprised us both and something that brought us even closer together. It took several months of coaxing me out of my shell, he would often say, but it was totally worth it. I remember that my eyes filled with tears as he filled me because I cannot believe that I would find someone who would be as giving and as gentle as him. My first time---our first time together was perfection. I cannot imagine it any other way.

I have been surrounded and cooed by men all my life. I have been proposed to, twice. I have been with the most dashing men, the most powerful men, the most talented, and the richest, but no one made me feel like the way I feel for him. He’s my dearest friend, my food buddy, and also the one that makes me think about naughty stuffs during the most inopportune times. Like now.

I got an SMS from him. “So, did you touch yourself yet?” I smiled. How come he can read my mind even when he’s away? I went to the kitchen to get some chamomile tea and went back to my room. I lighted some incense to make me feel more relaxed and hopped on to bed. I grabbed a book by Peter Greene to get my mind off sex. It worked for the first 30 minutes. It really did. Before I finished my tea, another text came. “You’re wet babe. Aren’t you? I wish I was there.”

I tossed my book aside and sagged on the pillows, the smell of Moroccan incense tickling my nose. The mattress felt good on my skin and the feel of linens on a cold weather is simply amazing. I tried to close my eyes and sleep for a while but what I did was simply toss and turn. Sleep was the last thing I needed.

I focused my eyes on the ceiling as I slowly untie my robe. My body felt hot and feverish and I sighed as my hand touched the delicate skin of my neck. My hand slowly went down and found my breasts, which are aching to be fondled. I traced the curve with my forefinger and almost instantly, my nipples responded and budded seductively. I remember the very first time he rested his face on my fullness. I placed a tiny dab of Shalimar in between my breasts that day and while we were watching some movie, he rested chin on top of them, looking adorably handsome and telling me with his eyes not to pull him away. He didn’t try to undress me, but instead closed his eyes and breathed in deeply and stayed there until it was time to leave. It was the first time in my life that I felt all woman. He is older than me by almost a year, but during that moment, it was as though I held much power over him.

Now, as I lightly cupped my breasts, I think about the first time he kissed them in the dark as we cuddled. He very slowly unbuttoned my mesh blouse and kissed every inch of skin he exposed. As I faced him with only my bra on, he started planting kisses, going nearer and nearer my nipples. Then, he sucked one small nipple and it was the most blissful thing someone ever did to me. My curiosity mixed with my innocence mingled to create the most stunning sensations. I moaned his name again and again, begging him not to stop.

My body responds with every thought of him. I think about the smell of his skin----his natural warm male smell mingling with the scent of pine and cypress. I remember the feel of his first kiss, the very first time his tongue went inside my mouth, taking away every bit of sense and worry I may have. His mouth is always warm and tastes of unending sexiness. Every time our bodies touch, it’s as of the two of us are consumed by fire that won’t go away.

My hand reached my navel and went down to that part of me that longs for him the most. I reached under the hem of my underwear, already feeling the slick dampness caused by thinking about him. I rubbed delicately, torturing myself as I think about the times he planted butterfly kisses on my mound, filling me with so much delight. My hand worked my clit as I imagine his own rugged hands touching me, fondling me like a hungry lover. He’d always touch me there as he looks deep into my eyes, his expression filled with deep yearning and affection. My body always crave for his big strong hands, loving the way he’d wrap them around my waist as we lie naked beside each other, my back against his hard chest and thighs. I rubbed more intently now, parting my kitty lips, and in my head it is his tongue licking me. I can see his face as he licks me sensually, his tongue reaching all the right spots that make me scream with pleasure. He’s a very giving man, always catering to my needs first, making sure I felt love before he takes what’s for him. He would lick my legs all the way down to my toes and go back to my centre that would now be begging for him. His tongue would go deeper and deeper and soon enough, all my juices will be out, moistening my mound for his much anticipated entrance.

He would always enter me slowly, making sure I am ready for him. He would tease my clit with his rod, silkiness rubbing smoothly against my flesh. As I slide a finger inside me, I imagine his thick cock sliding inch by inch, filling me gradually until I am overflowing with pleasure. I would often whisper for him to be gentle, knowing that he will be even without saying a word. I just like the thought of me being under his mercy, my body in total surrender. He would move slowly inside me, coaxing me to open up for him and let him play. I would follow his rhythm, like an ancient dance, where his lead takes me to new and greater heights.

I moan as I slid another finger inside me and increased the pace of my fondling. Before I knew it, I was no longer alone. I can feel him above me, his tongue flicking my earlobes as he moved in and out of me. Our bodies start to rub together in wild frenzy, the sensations multiplying by the second. He holds me close and moves his hips, challenging me to meet him, to move with him and be his match in this coupling. I surrender to his challenge, each and every time, leaving behind the coy woman that I am and bewitching him with the hidden vamp inside me. Always, like always, he would come hot and full blast inside me. As he poured all of him in, I would explode in full vivid colours making me even crazier about him and beg for more.

Clara like going out to party all night long, dressing up in sexy little outfits that would make men’s eyes pop out of their sockets and women jealous. Besides, her fun and outgoing personality was well matched by her well-toned body and Michelle Pfeiffer features – at least, when Michelle Pfeiffer was still in her 20s.

But her boyfriend of four and a half months, Jarvis, was one huge bore. He currently works as a paralegal - all suits, ties and serious.

But that doesn’t mean that she can’t go out just because he doesn’t want to, though. And anyway, Jarvis is currently in some week-long seminar in Seattle. He wouldn’t know that she’d be dancing the night away in one of the newly-opened New York clubs and drinking margarita the whole evening.

She chuckled to herself, just thinking about it.

So she grabbed her cell phone from her bag – one of those nice little blackberries – and started dialing her friend Jeanette’s number. She answered just after the second ring.

“Hey, Clara!” her voice was deep and still sleepy.

“You’re still in bed?” Clara asked, looking at her wristwatch. It was just four in the afternoon.

She giggled. “Ric tired me out.”

“Ric who?!” I asked, quite astonished because I’ve never heard of this guy before.

“Oh, just some guy I met in the bus last night as I was going home.” she answered flippantly. “Clara, you wouldn’t believe how great he was!”

She sure couldn’t imagine that, Clara thought to herself. It has been almost a month since Jarvis came to her bed.

Damn, is he cheating on her?! That idea pissed her off but she waved the negative thought away and settled on listening to her friend’s giddy ramblings. She heard the words Italian, macho, tall, dark and handsome in passing coupled with oohs and aahs.

When she stopped for a breath, Clara immediately asked her, “So, are you free tonight?”

“What day is it today?” Jeanette asked.

Clara tried to stifle an irritated sigh. “It’s a Friday.”

“Oh, OK. At eight then?”

“Sure, sure!” she agreed, “Oh, by the way, you think I can bring Ric along? I know it’s our night out and all but-”

No! She wanted to scream at her. She wanted a girls’ night out later. But Clara knew all too well when Jeanette used that whiny, insistent voice. So she said, “Fine,” instead.

“Are you sure, honey?”

No! Her mind screamed out. “Yeah, why not,” she heard herself say.

“You’ll have loads of fun, I tell you!” Jeanette assured her in her silky, sexy voice.

When they both hung up, Clara started to fix all the papers in her desk, hide the rest inside the drawers and stuff some inside her bag. All throughout the ride home, she was thinking about the dress she was going to wear. Damn Jeanette. If she was going to be a third wheel, she should at least look great.

===

She heard a slight knock in her door as she was inspecting the brief, black dress she was going to wear later. It had thick straps, a modest neckline and back but it was really short. The thought that some men would try and peek under that dress made her smile.

Clara looked at her wristwatch again and saw that it was only 7:30pm. Odd, Jeanette was always late. Their eight o’clock meeting would always be moved to 8:30 or 9:00 even.

She looked at herself in the full-length mirror, wearing only a matching pair of baby pink lacy bra and panties plus the black strappy stilettos. Her hair, blonde and pre-curled half an hour a while ago, looked perfect. Her make-up was subdued and flawless. The striking red lip color completed the whole look.

As she walked to open the door, she hoped that Jeanette would get envious. Actually, she was counting on that. That’s what she gets for bringing a date on their supposed girls’ night out.

Clara unlocked the door and opened it to find a gorgeous hunk standing there. When his gaze moved lazily from her shocked face to her lace-clad, nearly naked body, he grinned appreciatively.

Other girls would have shrieked and hid themselves, but Clara was proud of the way she looked. Instead, she raised her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“Who are you?” she snapped.

“I’m Ricardo de Luca,” he answered in a deep grumble.

She recalled Jeanette’s ramblings earlier and came up with ‘wow’.

So this is the man who fucked her friend really good last night. He had a well-fitting dark grey, pinstriped suit and pants on. The black cotton shirt stretched across his hard chest. But the striking simplicity of that was nothing compared to his Adonis-like face. He looked Italian. And he was not the type of Italian who lived in New York. With the way he pronounced his name, the accent still apparent, he really came from Italy.

Now, she understood why Jeanette missed work and was still in bed at 4 in the afternoon.

She felt excitement coupled with desire thundering in her belly but tried not to let that show in her face. “Where’s Jeanette?” she asked, still not allowing him inside her apartment.

“Someone called.” he stated, patiently standing in the corridor. “Are you inviting me in or will you let other people see you in just that?”

His words had a disapproving note to it but his eyes kept skimming down to her cleavage. She held her grin back but the butterflies in her stomach intensified.

“Fine, get in.” she assented, pulling the door wider and letting him in. “Wait there,” she said as she pointed to the wide, comfortable sofa. “I’ll finish inside.”

She didn’t give him that flirty, backward glance because she was tingling in places already. That man, with his dark seductive eyes and sensual mouth, will make anyone’s breathing erratic. And hers already is in a bad state. She needed to find control. And going inside the room, away from him, will help.

She slipped the dress on, pulling it down her hips. The clock didn’t tick a minute yet when Clara heard his voice – and it was quite near.

“I prefer looking at you in pink lingerie,” he started, his voice deep and husky, “But that dress looks beautiful on you as well.”

She whipped her head, the red flush creeping up her neck and face. “I remember telling you to wait out.” she told him irritably. But he sauntered towards her until his chest was almost touching her face. Clara had to look up at him making her think, wow, he’s tall!

Then his hand moved up to cup her face. “I couldn’t take the picture of you in lace. You have to understand, I’m just a man, cara.” he admitted softly, his thumb gently caressing her cheek.

As seduction goes, that was the best she ever had. She can feel her juice pooling in her vagina. And he was just touching her face. She swallowed visibly – that was all she could do, unable to talk and all. The grin he was wearing got wider.

Then he stepped back. “Hungry?” he asked in a low voice.

“Quite.”

“Me too,” and then he patted his crotch. “For both this and food,”

Her gaze zoomed in on the thick ridge hidden beneath his pants. He was amazingly hung. Clara’s throat tightened and she cleared it, trying to take her gaze off the impressive sight. “I just need to get my coat.” she said, edging away from him and moving towards her dresser.

She got a thick, tan-colored coat from the rack, wore it and walked towards the door, leaving Ricardo behind to follow her. Looking at him will be her undoing.

===

“In you go, cara.” he said as he opened the door of a gleaming black Mercedes Benz parked just in front of the steps of the apartment where she rented.

She was both surprised and impressed, although she tried not to let it show. “Nice ride.” she commented.

He ignored that.

“Luis, to De Luca, please.” he told the uniformed driver instead.

He even had a chauffeur! De Luca was one of the ritziest restaurants in Manhattan and he was bringing her there. Although she promised to treat herself there when she gets a fat paycheck, this is not part of her current plan. But she held her tongue from making any more comments.

“So what time will she be joining us?” she asked, referring to Jeanette.

He shrugged those wide, muscular shoulders as an answer. “Clara. That’s a beautiful name.” he remarked, obviously veering away from the conversation about their common friend.

But she won’t be party to that. “Jeanette and I were supposed to go to this new bar, Zing.” she told him, stressing her friend’s name. “And we aren’t going there.”

He sighed, brushing his hair back with his hand. “Ah, cara.” he said, his accent making her shiver. “I just thought we need privacy. De Luca is my sister’s restaurant. We can have that there.”

“OK, just so we’re very clear on this,” she said, turning her whole body to look at him, suddenly remembering Jarvis. “I have a boyfriend so this,” she waved her finger five times between them, “is not gonna happen.”

His mouth tilted upward at the corners. “I do not see a boyfriend anywhere, Clara.”