The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 18: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women (22 page)

“We have that in common”, he quipped.

He moaned as she moved back, slipped the condom over him and climbed right on top. He looked surprised at the speed with which she did this. He closed his eyes as she slid down the length of his shaft. She sat up straight and rode him steadily, enjoying the sound of his moans and the sound of their skin meeting.

Every single thing about this moment was perfect. Her breathing quickened and she began to speed up, rising and falling and grinding around. He gripped her hips as she began to buck and move as her orgasm built. She felt him deep inside her as she came. Tired, but not completely satisfied, she lay down on top of him. She kissed him lightly.

“No, you didn’t scare me off.”

He laughed, flipped her over on her back and tucked her legs neatly over his shoulders. He entered her slowly and firmly. She closed her eyes and just enjoyed the feel of his slow, steady rhythm.

Her voice sounded rough as she asked, “Harder, please?”

He didn’t answer, just complied. He increased his speed and pressure and she heard herself moan deeply and loudly. He sped up again and her legs slipped from his shoulders and wrapped around his waist. Locked together they moved against each other, their rhythms and need feeding off of each other.

Seconds after she climaxed he drove deeply into her and gave a deep groan. Sweaty and exhausted he rolled off of her and lay beside her. There was a slight shift on the bed and the perplexed face of a small cat appeared. The cat marched down the bed and gave Billy a sniff then a nuzzle.

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“I plan to take the time to find out.”

Billy leaned over and kissed Cynthia deeply. She kissed him back and reached for him.

“Fun Cynthia fact, once is not enough. I hope today’s not your day to be a zombie.”

He laughed and fell back into her arms.

***

[Hope you liked the story and don't forget your
8 complimentary
books, which you may find a download link to on the last page of this collection, just after the 11th story ends. Now, on to the next story!]

by
Pauline Orr

CHARLOTTE Rowland stared at her computer screen, the pointer of her mouse hovering over the sign up button. She was still undecided about what to do. Part of her wanted to try it, hoping that this might be the right route for her at last, despairing at the disappointment that came before. Another part was aware of how desperate it could be considered. Only losers used internet dating right? Her friends had insisted she give the website a go though.   

After the seventeenth bad date in a row she was beginning to consider trying anything. She’d gone the other routes already; meeting people in bars, having friends set her up on blind dates, personals in the newspapers, she’d even given speed dating a try. All of them though just seemed to bring out the freaks and oddballs.

Occasionally a relationship had formed but it had been slow building and pitted out within weeks. Sometimes it lasted a little longer but before any real commitment could be made between her and whoever she’d thought was right something went wrong and they exposed a fatal flaw that drove her away instantly.

Charlotte had tried the other routes and even looked into her own personality, wondering if it was something about her that seemed to attract losers. She’d been gratified when her female therapist had assured her that she was completely mentally healthy, well as mentally healthy as a woman could be when she faced near constant disappointment and rejection. So she had continued with the set up.

She’d watched friends that she’d brought along for support have luck, find someone and slowly build that relationship that she wanted for herself but all Charlotte seemed to get was the men no one else seemed to want. Some had just been too odd, others had been downright abusive, and their true colors thankfully showing before too much time in their relationship had passed.

Now though she was willing to try something else, to build up that relationship before meeting face to face. Charlotte looked at the page on her diary for the next two months and saw the weddings and engagement dinners all lined up with their neat little colors. She felt alone, longing for that someone to share her life with. What’s more her mother was now nagging her, asking constantly when she was finally going to bring a nice boy home to meet the family and marry.

The thought of having to endure yet another Christmas dinner under scrutiny of her parents as they tried to figure out what was wrong with her filled Charlotte with dread and hardened her resolve. With a deep breath Charlotte clicked the join up button and began to fill in her profile, excitement and anticipation building as she carefully filled in each section. She got more and more excited as the messages began to pour into her inbox once her profile went live and it was with a gleeful giggle that she opened the first one.

***

CHARLOTTE’S excitement lasted three months. It gradually wore away as the bad luck that plagued her in dating within the real world followed her onto the net. She had set up several promising dates, each one seeming to be perfect for her and every man selected especially for her through the website’s carefully programmed algorithms.

The first date had been with Dean, a 36 year old accountant with a passion for sky diving. They had chatted and flirted over the website’s messaging system, talking and getting to know each other. Finally Dean had suggested that they meet and arranged to see Charlotte on a Wednesday outside a classy bar in the city centre.

Charlotte had waited for half an hour, checking and rechecking the location he gave and the date. She went so far as to send him a message on the site asking where he was. There was no reply and humiliated Charlotte had gone home close to tears. She had known that people in the bar had been watching, they had seen her get stood up and were probably talking about how pathetic she was.

Things were made even worse when she got a message from Dean the next day saying that he had in fact been there but had taken a look at her and decided against it. Especially considering how much she badgered him when he was a little late. Apparently she had failed some sort of test he set and Charlotte gladly washed her hands of Dean.

The second date had been with Elliott, a 30 year old estate agent. Charlotte had been smarter this time when they decided to meet, insisting on getting his mobile number and spending a couple of days texting and chatting over the phone before she agreed to actually meet him in person. Thankfully he didn’t suggest the same bar as Dean had; instead he chose a restaurant that Charlotte had already told him that she was fond of.

She had texted him before she left her home, making sure that he too was on the way before she set out. She still ended up waiting 15 minutes despite Elliott living closer to the restaurant than her. She finally gave in and called him, asking where he was.

It was only minutes later that he came bowling down the streets and when he skidded to a stop in front of her panting she could smell the vodka on his breath. He was swaying slightly too and his eyes were glazed. She challenged him on it and he finally admitted that he had had one or two small drinks ‘to give him courage’. Charlotte figured out while they were eating that he regularly needed ‘courage’ and refused the offer or a second date.

Charlotte’s third date was with a charming chap by the name of Percy. She had been a little tipsy when she had replied to his friendly enough email, drinking her way through a small bottle of wine to get over the disappointment of her date with Elliott. She was well aware of the irony but chose to ignore it, preferring simply to blot it out. His profile had seemed interesting and their conversations entertaining, if a little formal.

Percy eventually suggested a meet up after almost two weeks of talking by text and phone calls, his voice shaking so much that he could barely get the words out. Charlotte gladly accepted, sure at last that she had found a man with manners who might actually not humiliate her. Initially she was proved right. He arrived at the pub first and waited for her outside, shaking hands tightly gripping a bouquet of flowers.

He had been a perfect gentleman as he had led her to their table, holding out her chair for her to sit in and taking charge of the wine ordering. It was as they waited for their food to arrive that Charlotte began to get the idea that he might not be as perfect as he appeared. It began when she complimented him on his location choice and he admitted that it had been suggested by his mother.

She shrugged it off at first, figuring that there was nothing wrong with a man who spoke to his mother regularly. It was after the fourth phone-call from her to Percy and his seventh or eighth story that revolved around her that Charlotte began to realize that there was already a woman firmly ensconced in Percy’s life and it wasn’t her. Finally Percy admitted that he still in fact lived with his mother and Charlotte had quickly wished him well and left.

It was the fourth date that was Charlotte’s breaking point. Martin, 32, had seemed nice enough and he was very friendly when they talked on the messaging system, even if he did share a little too much of himself too quickly.

Charlotte had felt a twinge of warning in her gut within the first week of texting and calling but she ignored it, truly hoping that this 6’3” lawyer and part time rugby player could be the one. His picture was handsome and his hobbies seemed to mesh well with her. Her hopes were shattered into tiny pieces when she finally agreed to meet Martin though. They met in a somewhat seedy part of town and she quickly realized that Martin’s 32 was in fact 23, he was not a 6’3” rugby player but a 6’3” bean pole who played World of Warcraft more than was possibly healthy.

The picture he had used clearly wasn’t him either but the features were similar enough that Charlotte decided it must be a relative. Martin had turned up with a gift but it wasn’t flowers, instead it had been a bottle of perfume of the variety worn by grandmothers that was heavy, cloying and musky. Charlotte had sneezed as soon as she smelt it, the scent tickling her nose and she hadn’t even bothered to create an excuse for leaving. Instead she had turned around and simply walked away after looking Martin up and down and saying no.

She had had enough and said as much to her friends when they all came around to her house for lunch that Saturday.

“Oh don’t give up now Bernie,” cried Sylvia “You’re bound to meet the right person for you.”

“Yeah, he’s out there somewhere,” agreed Beth who was happily married “I mean... look how well you’ve been doing so far, you have had dates and they all did turn up. Well apart from that Dean bloke but to be honest I think you’re better off.”

“Definitely,” interrupted Chloe, “its like, a chartered accountant who likes sky diving? That just screams weirdo to me and anyone who sets that kind of test isn’t worth the time of day.”

“I suppose I could try a little longer. I did pay for 4 months after all,” Charlotte said with a sigh.

Her friends cheered and insisted that she pull out her laptop straight away so they could look over her profile and pick out men for her to message. The group managed to empty 3 bottles of wine and had to be picked up by partners and friends by the time they grew bored of ‘man shopping on the internet’ as Sylvia called it. Charlotte went to bed with a fuzzy head and the decision firmly in her mind that she would give it one more go and see where it took her.

***

THE NEXT day she got a message from a New Zealander based in the UK called Bruce Adams and her heart almost skipped a beat when she saw his picture. He was almost unbelievably handsome with thick wavy blond hair, a chiseled jaw and he looked tall and muscular, exactly the kind of man that Charlotte longed to date.

She began to question what a man who seemed so perfect was doing on a dating website; surely he would be able to get any woman he wanted without the help of the internet. She opened his profile and read through it and began to think more and more that he was perfect for her, exactly what she was looking for.

He was normal and adventurous, lived alone, supported himself, was spontaneous but steady and liked many of the same things that Charlotte liked. His hobbies included hiking and watching TV, he wanted to see more of England, including the pubs. Finally Charlotte gave in and opened the message Bruce had sent.

“Sylvia, Sylvia!” Charlotte cried down the phone later that evening. “I found him, I found the perfect man for me!”

“See!” Sylvia said back somewhat sleepily. Charlotte noticed guiltily that it was almost midnight “I told you that you’d find Mr. Right eventually, you just had to stick with it.”

“I know!” Charlotte said “Thanks so much for telling me to hang on.”

“So...” Sylvia said, sounding a little more awake “What’s he like?”

Charlotte went into a long explanation of the messages that she and Bruce had exchanged that day. The two friends talked for a long time but when Charlotte noticed that it was now 2 in the morning she insisted that Sylvia go to sleep. Charlotte decided to go to sleep too, happy and joyful at the prospect of finally having some luck with a man.

Bruce and Charlotte spent the next few days talking to each other, exchanging messages on the website, texting over the phone and finally talking over Skype. Charlotte couldn't believe the relief she felt when she saw Bruce there before her on her computer screen. He looked normal and just as attractive as his profile picture. She sighed with relief and their conversations improved more than she could have believed.

Bruce asked her about her stand-offish attitude at first, wondering why it had taken so long to open up. She was reluctant to admit it but eventually she explained the disasters of her past dates and meet ups. Bruce sympathized and admitted to some of his own. Their conversations flew by; days passing so quickly that before she knew it Charlotte had been talking to Bruce for well over two months.

“Look Bernie,” Bruce said over Skype that evening “All this talking is great and you’re a wonderful girl. I really want to meet you in person, see if we get along as well face to face as we do right now. Is that alright with you?”

“Of course,” Charlotte cried out “I would have said something sooner but to be honest I enjoyed our chats so much that I forgot to bring it up.”

“I know what you mean love, it’s hard to remember stuff when our conversations just end up winding around and around in all directions,” Bruce agreed.

They decided not to wait and arranged a meet the next day, at lunchtime, in the city centre. Charlotte dressed carefully the next day; she really thought that Bruce could be the one since they got on so well. Her stomach rolled with butterflies as she caught the bus in, nerves making her too nervous to drive safely.