The Lonely Wives Club (An Erotic Short Story Collection) (3 page)

Four Glasses In

Catherine Patton stood alone at the top of the
staircase, overlooking the large room. It was only eight o'clock, and she was
already four glasses of champagne in. She watched scornfully as her husband
talked to the daughter of one of the senior partners. Not being able to
remember her name, Catherine had been calling her Ditzy for the past hour.
Catherine burned holes in her face while Ditzy twirled her hair around her
finger and rested the other hand in the cleft of her arm so that she could
nonchalantly push her breasts higher.

The girl was being
so obvious. She had to admit that Ditzy was beautiful, but, taking that into
consideration, she had no excuse to act so desperate for attention. Catherine
rolled her eyes and took another sip of champagne.

It's not that she
was worried about Paul cheating; she knew that he didn't have it in him. She
just couldn't stand the way he ogled her, the way he laughed at every attempt
at humor she made, the way he obviously undressed her with his eyes. Nothing
would come of it, but it still drove her crazy.

When was the
last time he acted like a hormonal teenager with me?
She was still beautiful, still desirable.
She saw the way the other men in the firm looked at her. Why didn't he? Was she
too old for him now?

“Mind if I join
you?” came a deep voice from behind. She turned to see a young man standing
behind her. He had dark eyes and the roguish good looks of someone born to
wealth and arrogance.

“Sure, but I'm
afraid I'm not going to be very good company.”

“We'll see about
that," he said, his eyes daring her to argue. "What are you doing so
far away from the party?” He took a step towards her.

She tilted her
head to the side. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I like to watch
people." He walked up to the banister and turned his attention to the
crowd below. "How they talk, how they move, how they come together."
He looked back at her. "You can learn a lot about people by watching how
they interact.”

She blushed under
his intense stare. "So what do you think of them?" she asked,
pointing with her champagne glass to where Paul and Ditzy stood, flirting.

He watched them a
moment and turned back to her, raising an eyebrow. "Do you really want to
know?"

Catherine nodded.

"Alright,"
he said with a shrug. He leaned against the railing, observing them again.
"She wants him bad, that much is obvious. Look at the way she touches his
arm and leans into him. She's really chomping at the bit. You see how she turns
her bottom lip in and rolls her eyes? She does that when she's really horny."

Catherine pulled
back slightly. "And how do you know that?"

"She's my
ex-girlfriend."

She nodded.
Of
course she is
. "And him?"

"He's not so
obvious, but he wants her too. See how when he leans in, he turns to the side,
like he's conflicted? Yeah, they are definitely into each other."

Her stomach sank.
She took another drink to calm its churning.

"Look, now
she's whispering something to him. She gives him a coy little eyebrow
raise…"

Clenching her
champagne glass, Catherine watched as he described the scene below.

"And there
she goes, off to find a nice quiet little corner where they can fuck fast and
furiously before his wife and her father notice that they're missing."

Catherine watched,
working her jaw back and forth. Would Paul follow? She felt the young man's
eyes on her, but she couldn't look away from her husband.

Paul shifted on
his feet and tossed a look about the room, a wide grin on his face. Catherine
leaned against the banister, digging her nails into the soft wood. Paul licked
his lips and took two glasses from a passing tray, turned on his heel and made
his way towards the door Ditzy had just left through.

"Bastard,"
she whispered and downed the rest of her drink.

The young stranger
looked at her, playing with his long black tie. "Want to go catch him in
the act?"

“Sorry, but who
are you again?”

"He
straightened up, leaning in a little too closely. "Johnathon Cartwell, at
your serevice," he said, proudly.

Shit!
She cleared her throat. “I didn't realize
I was talking to Frank Cartwell's son. Why haven't I seen you before?”

“I was in college.
I just graduated. So how about it? You want to go see what your husband and my
ex-girlfriend are up to?"

She pursed her
lips together, thinking it over. Embarrassing them by catching them red-handed
did have a certain appeal. As did divorcing the son of a bitch and nailing his
ass to the wall. “I have a better idea. As often as I've been here, I've never
seen the upstairs of the house before. Would you like to give me a tour?”

He gave her a sly
smirk. She was sure it crossed his face whenever he thought he got his way.

“If you like. My
dad's study is just down the hall.”

“What about this
door?" She asked, pointing to the door behind them. "Where does it
lead?”

“That's just the
guest bedroom. It's nothing worth seeing.”

“If it's all the
same…”

He shrugged and
led her into the room. It was tastefully decorated but lacking in a way.
Whoever had put it together just didn't have their heart in it. But it would
do.

She walked to the
centre of the room. The door clicked shut, but music from the party below
continued to pour in. She turned to face him. Her eyes fixed on his, she took a
long, deep breath.

She had confidence
enough to match his. He stood and stared the way he did because he had always
gotten what he wanted; he didn't know the meaning of no. She stood poised and
confident because she was old enough to know the difference between a man and a
boy.

Tossing her hand
bag on the chair behind her, she said, “Take off your clothes for me.”

He gave her a look
she read as
Okay, I'll play along
. He took off his suit jacket and hung
it on the doorknob. His shirt and pants, he let fall to the floor. He stood
before her in a pair of loose boxers with a large peak in the centre.

Her heart pounded
as her eyes moved down his body, stopping at the bulge in his boxers and
looking back at him meaningfully. He understood the look and pulled his boxers
off as well. His dick was thick and cleanly shaven. She'd heard of men doing
that nowadays. She licked her lips, wondering how he might taste.

With both hands
she pulled down the thin straps of her dress, over her shoulders, past the soft
lace of her bra, to her stomach. She easily pushed it down across her hips. The
light fabric made almost no sound as it fell to the floor. She knew how she
looked and couldn't blame him for the lingering, drunken stare.

“Lay down on the
bed” she said. As he went to the bed, she picked up his tie from the floor. She
joined him on the bed and crawled up, straddling him. One hand at a time, she
tied him to the bed.

“I…”

She placed a finger
over his lips. “Shhh, don't talk”. She could feel how thick and hard he was
beneath her. It made her throb with anticipation. She unhooked her bra and
slowly brought the straps down off her shoulders and discarded it on the floor.
Her fingertips grazed the curvature of her breasts. She traced the outline of
her nipples with her fingernails, the friction stiffening and elongating them.
She lost herself in the moment, the deliciousness of exciting herself in front
of this young stranger. He stared at her as she started massaged her breasts.
She moved her hands in circles, squeezing her breasts as she rubbed herself
against him and moaning softly. She rocked her hips back and forth on his cock.
Taking her nipples between her fingers and thumbs, she rolled them gently.

“Oh, oh yes” she
moaned, throwing her head back. She lightly pinched her long, hard nipples,
feeling a surge of pleasure with each movement. She looked down at him. He
watched her through heavy-lidded eyes.

Still grinding
against him, she leaned over his head. “Suck them”. He took her nipple in his
mouth, sucking it and biting gently. “That's so good. Suck harder,” she commanded,
digging her fingertips into the soft flesh of his neck.

She pushed him
back down to the bed and crawled up so that she was straddling his face.

He looked up at
her, drunk with desire.

Hooking one finger
around her wet panties, she pulled them to the side to expose her cleanly
shaven pussy. His tongue slipped between her lips. He licked her hungrily.
“Slowly baby, lick me slowly.” He used his tongue to flick her clit a couple of
times and then took long, slow licks.

“Oh…ooooooh.” She
moaned and writhed against his tongue, squeezing her tits harder. Feeling on
the edge of coming, she pulled herself away from his greedy mouth. She took off
her panties and straddled his waist again, now feeling his hard dick between
her wet lips. She rubbed her pussy against him, feeling his huge head slide up
and down along her clit. His dick was as slippery as her pussy.

He moaned deeply.
“Come on” he begged, his eyes desperate.

“You wanna fuck,
baby?” she asked, now holding the head of his dick against her threshold.

“Oh, god, yes,” he
moaned.

A jolt of pleasure
shot through her as she guided his dick inside her. His whole body tensed and
he inhaled sharply. She rode him, slowly at first, but as her pleasure
intensified she fucked him faster, her tits bouncing in sequence with her moans
of delight. She could no longer think anything, the only thing that existed now
was getting gloriously fucked, his cock filling her up, making her want to
explode.

“Oh fuck me, fuck
me harder”

With that, all the
pressure that had been building was suddenly released and her mind and body
exploded. She arched backwards and came in convulsing waves of pleasure. She
was vaguely aware that they were both moaning loudly. Utterly exhausted, she
collapsed on the bed to the side.

“Oh god, that was
amazing. Do you always fuck like that?” he asked as she untied his hands.

“No, Johnathon, I
don’t.”

“Can
we
always fuck like that?”

A grin crossed her
face as she considered it. “Leave me your phone number, and we’ll see.”

Note
from the Author:

Thank you so much for buying and reading my
short story collection. If you liked it, please check out my website  for more
works from me and feel free to leave a review on the website you purchased it
from.

Aurora Cavender

Excerpt from
Too Good
(An
Erotic Story)

That night Cindy lay in bed, waiting to drift off to
sleep. The air around was hot and sticky. She threw the covers off her to
relieve some of the heat. Her white cotton nightgown clung to her skin. She
writhed on the bed, unable to satiate herself.
I’ll never get to sleep, it’s
too hot
.

The heat hanging
in the air wasn’t really the problem though. It was the heat inside her. Jake
preyed on her mind. Every time she tried to think about something else, he’d
claw his way back into her thoughts. His eyes, his hands, the way he looked at
her as if she were already naked. What made her ever agree to go out on a date
with a guy like him? And why had she let him touch her like that?

Deep down, she
knew the answer. She liked it.

So what did that
make her? What would her friends say if they knew? But would he tell? Would
everyone know by tomorrow morning? Would they all be staring at her like he did?
Like she was naked and…

Ugh, enough of that
.

Cindy turned and
flicked on the light beside her bed. If she couldn’t sleep, at least she could
read and get a head start on the book Mr. Walsh had assigned. Dim light spread
across the room, and she sat up on the edge of the bed. Her reflection in the
mirror standing across the room caught her eye. Her blonde hair fell down
around her shoulders, over her white nightie. She walked over to the bookcase
and grabbed the book, her reflection following her. She tossed the book back on
the bed and went to the mirror.

She supposed it
was normal for Jake to look at her, she was attractive enough, or so people
told her. She turned, gazing up her long legs to the hemline of her nightie.
She lifted the hem slightly to get a better look. Did she have a nice behind?
She couldn’t tell. It was round and firm looking, but she had nothing to
compare it too. Facing the mirror again, she wondered how she looked naked. She
had never really looked before. The idea excited her as much as it embarrassed
her. She wanted to see how she looked. What Jake had seen last night?

Unbuttoning her
nightgown slowly, her heartbeat sped up. The nightie fell to the floor and she
stood, in her white panties and bra in front of the mirror. Her hands grazed
over her shoulders and down to her breasts. There were small, she knew that,
but she always thought they complemented her broad, round hips nicely. Despite
what fashion magazines told her, she liked her shape. Reaching behind her back,
she unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor on top of her nightie. Her pert
breasts hung beautifully on her body. A small nipple sat, centred, ending each
firm tit. She couldn’t take her eyes off them.

Her mind went back
to Jake and how he touched her. She traced her areolas with her fingertips,
almost too scared to touch them outright. It didn’t matter; the light touch of
her fingers on her skin made the heat and tension pulse within her. Her palms
grazed her nipples. She shuddered, biting her lip. She rubbed and squeezed her
breasts, savouring every flush of pleasure that went through her.

Cindy let her
hands travel down her stomach to her panties. Fingering the soft fabric at the
top, she pinched and plucked at her nipples. She was already panting. Slowly,
she slipped her hand underneath her panties.