Adults Only Volume 3 Read online

  ADULTS ONLY

  Seven Erotica Shorts

  Volume 3

  ALSO BY BEBE WILDE

  Adults Only: Seven Erotica Shorts

  Adults Only: Seven Erotica Shorts - Volume 2

  Sex Story: An Erotica Short

  Sex Story - Part 2: An Erotica Short

  Sex Story - Part 3: An Erotica Short

  Love Hurts: A BDSM Erotica Short

  A Hot Fireman: An Erotica Short

  A Little Bit Submissive

  A Little Bit Rough

  A Little Bit Controlling

  The A Little Bit Trilogy Bundle

  You, Me and Him: A Ménage Erotica Short

  Cold Hard Cash: A Story of Erotica

  Sexual Tension: A BDSM Erotica Story

  The Weaker Sex: BDSM Erotica

  Merci: A Story of Erotica, Sex and Romance

  At the End of the Day: An Office Sex Erotica Short

  On the Same Page: An Office Sex Erotica Story

  ADULTS ONLY

  Seven Erotica Shorts

  Volume 3

  Bebe Wilde

  Abernathy and Monroe

  Adults Only: Seven Erotica Shorts - Volume 3. Copyright © 2014 by Bebe Wilde.

  Published by Abernathy and Monroe.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. For information, email [email protected]

  eBook ISBN–13: 978-1-938107-56-6

  eBook ISBN–10: 1-938107-56-X

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  For those who are willing to try new things…

  Contents

  Love Game

  A Strong Attraction

  Just a Quickie

  The Bigger the Better

  Just For Tonight

  The Best Sex I Ever Had

  A Bad Blind Date

  Love Game

  Here he was. Sitting right next to me again. He was looking so handsome I ached a little from it. We didn’t speak. We didn’t have to. All it took was a slight nod from me, an affirmation. Yes, yes. I would like that. Very much.

  No please. No thank you. Just go.

  It took us very little time to leave the bar. We’d been down this road before. And we’d go again. We didn’t ask about each other, save for the niceties, which didn’t really matter, either. All that mattered was getting on the elevator and going up to his room, booked in advance, a safe haven for our love game.

  In the elevator we were quiet. We didn’t grab at each other. All he did was take my hand and give it a slight squeeze. I sighed with the touch, anticipating what was to come.

  The elevator doors opened and we were on his floor then. We were walking to his room, his suite at the end of the hall. And then there we were, at the door, and I was entering, not even a glance back towards him. He was right behind me, on my heels, almost pushing me into the room, ready to get down to it, to what we were there for.

  The anticipation would have to be dealt with. There was no jumping right in. There was nothing but what was going to happen. There was a bit of a wait as he pushed me down onto the bed, settling between my legs and giving me a good, hard kiss. I responded to his kiss, giving him my lips, allowing him to take me over by pushing his tongue into my mouth so I could suck on it and then offer him my own.

  The kiss was not prolonged. It was slight, just enough foreplay to get right down to it, to the sex, to the fucking, to all of it.

  But first… Oh, yes, first, there came something else, something entirely different. A riding crop. There it was; what I was after, what I craved. He gave it to me, had been wanting to give it to me. I had been wanting to get it from him. He knew what I wanted and he wanted to give it to me. It was for us, for him as much as it was for me.

  Clothes off, clothes on the floor, piled up, forgotten about. Naked body on the bed, ass in the air, ready for what was to come.

  And then… Smack! Right across the right buttock. A slight, red mark left to be pondered over later. My nervousness eased, my senses began to tingle, to go crazy for a kiss of the crop. And he gave it to me: Smack, smack, ahhh… I felt such relief, such utter joy from that.

  His hand slid between my legs, making me want to grind on it, making me feel everything then. He pulled back and I got another kiss from the crop. Ummm… It was a good one, too. His hand was back between my legs and I felt myself get wet from his touch. I wanted more, his cock between my legs, inside of me, or, perhaps, in my mouth.

  But not just yet…

  A scarf was over my eyes now, blinded from his face, from the world. Now his hands were all over me and then… Then my hands were tied and he took over completely. I was at his mercy and his command. It was a game we were playing, that was all.

  He once told me I was beautiful. He said the same thing now, told me how he loved my soft skin and gorgeous body. He kept talking about my beautiful face and soft blue eyes. He paused and forced me up on all fours, ass, again, in the air, elbows on the bed, hands still tied. And then the crop again, smacking across my buttocks, this time harder, fiercer and there was more pain to go along with the pleasure.

  Ahhh…. I moaned slightly, feeling more and more at ease, wanting more and more from him, never wanting it to end. His hands were all over my body again, touching me, sliding down my back, reaching around to fondle my breasts, to pinch a nipple. Then his lips were on my back, his tongue sliding down it, stopping to suck at my skin every so often. A few little nibbles, too and then…

  No, it was almost over. We had played my love game and now he wanted his turn. Marks on skin were kissed, hands were untied, blindfold discarded. My back on the bed and my man on top of me, still fully clothed, me arching against him, pulling at his clothes and wanting his hard cock inside of me.

  Soon enough, I got what I wanted. He was naked and I took him in, his muscular body and those broad shoulders. His handsome face and his dark, mysterious eyes which never left me, even for a second.

  Legs wrapped around his waist and then he was inside of me, filling me up, fucking me, kissing me so hard I felt pain as I kissed back, matching his intensity. A hand on my breast, squeezing it hard, stroking the nipple and making me want him to suck it, suck it into his mouth and give me even more pleasure.

  There was nothing better, nothing better than this fucking, this intense fucking which was taking us over and taking us over the edge. I felt near exhaustion from it as he pumped into me, as I rocked with him, squeezing him into me as much as I could. And, before I could stop it, I was exploding with orgasm and it felt like fireworks going off inside me of me: One, two, three, four! Boom! Boom! Boom! Booooom!

  He came, too, came hard, holding me tightly, never letting me go. We kissed as we came down from it, kissed softly and held each other like we were never going to let go.

  But then we did.

  Not much to say, nothing to talk about. An understanding between us that it was over for tonight and we’d see each other again soon. We didn’t say when; we didn’t have to.

  He was dressed, I was kissed again, and he was out the door. I lay on the bed and listened to the rain beating against the window outside. I hoped he’d get his umbrella, which I just then remembered he’d left downstairs, in the bar.

  A Strong Attraction

  “Your breasts. They’re all I can think about since I first saw them.”

  To say I was a little shocked at his words would have been an understatement. So, yes, I was shocked. More than a little. But then I thought about what he’d said and it struck me as almost funny: “Your breasts. They’re all I can think about since I first saw them.” I didn’t laugh but I wanted to. I didn’t laugh because he was saying this with such sincerity that it would have been cruel of me to ignore it.

  But, yeah, the line sounded a little too much like something from a cheesy porno. I stared at him and sighed. I couldn’t really believe this was happening.

  The gist was that he was a surgeon I’d met at least a year ago when I went in to see about a breast reduction. He had adamantly told me that I shouldn’t have the surgery and he refused to do it. I was disappointed to say the least. I felt that my breasts made men not take me seriously. Men didn’t look at me, they looked at my boobs. Well, they gaped at them. And I felt like my boobs held me back professionally, too. I felt like all anyone saw when they looked at me was my boobs. I felt like they held me back professionally. I was very career-driven. I wanted success and if I had to endure a little pain, and a lot less breast, to get it, I was more than willing to make that sacrifice. He, my surgeon, didn’t agree with this on any level. He was like all the other men I’d ever met. He was no was no different. He actually gulped at them before asking, “Are you sure?”

  “I am,” I told him. And I was. I wanted a reduction. I didn’t care how much it cost.

  “Most women would kill for your breasts,” he said. “Do you know that?”

  I shrugged. I supposed it was true. Okay. Fine. But so what? This was what I wanted. I wanted to be successful. And with these torpedoes, it didn’t seem possible. I was a pretty woman with good looks. The boobs added to the package and would have been a real bonus if I had been looking for a husband or, at the very least, a sugar daddy. But I wasn’t. I was looking for a successful career and I knew looks could help a girl get ahead but I didn’t want to go this route. I wanted to do it on my own merit. I was in my early thirties and I had to get this going sometime.

  “No,” he’d said, shaking his head. “They’re not that big. You don’t need to do this. They’re perfect as they are. You’re very lucky.”

  “They’re a double D,” I said.

  He shook his head. “No, at best they’re a D. Why do you want this, Elsie?”

  “Well, Dr. Ashford,” I said, drawing a breath. “I want to be more successful and no one seems to take me seriously because of my breasts.”

  “That’s all in your head,” he said.

  “It is not!” I said with indignation. “This is a problem for me! A real problem!”

  He shook his head again. “No, you’re making it a problem. They are not the problem. And I won’t do the surgery. Sorry, Elsie. I just won’t. It would be wrong of me to do anything to them.”

  “You won’t?” I asked, almost seething.

  “No,” he replied and crossed his arms. “I will not.”

  Fine,” I hissed and left his office almost in rage. I was upset for a few days afterwards. But then I’d thought about it. Maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn’t as successful as I wanted to be because I needed to work harder. Maybe that was it. And so I did. I worked harder, I stayed later at the office than everyone else and I did my best to be the best lawyer I could. And over time, I actually began to get more successful. So, I guess, in a way, Dr. Ashford had been right.

  And now I was back face to face with him. He was sitting on the other side of my desk. He was there for some legal advice. He was merging his practice with that of two other surgeons and wanted to know the ends and outs of doing such a thing. I could help him with that but I couldn’t.

  “I don’t think I can help you,” I said. “You were going to be my surgeon. That might be seen as a conflict of interest. I’ll have to refer you to someone else.”

  He nodded. “That’s fine. I just thought we could… Oh, no.” He stopped talking and looked around my office.

  “What is it?”

  He turned back to me. “I was shocked when they referred me to you, Elsie. I have to say, I almost didn’t come.”

  “Why not?” I asked, a bit shocked.

  “It’s just that… Well, I have a bit of a crush on you.”

  I blushed and tried to laugh it off. “Then I definitely can’t advise you.” I picked up the phone on my desk. “Let me call someone.”

  He stood up and pushed the phone down and shook his head. “No, not yet. I’d still like to talk to you if you think that would be okay.”

  “About what?”

  “About us,” he said. “I want to… Can we go out? I mean, I’d like to take you out to dinner. You’re not in a relationship, are you?”

  “No,” I said and set the phone back in its cradle. “I’m not. But I…” I stopped talking and stared at him. He was cute, really, really cute with dark blonde hair. He was tall and looked like a… Well, like a handsome doctor. A surgeon. A girl could certainly do worse.

  “Let’s just go out,” he said. “Let’s just see where it leads. Okay?”

  I smiled at him and nodded. “Sure, why not. When?”

  “Tonight?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m working late. How about Saturday?”

  He grinned. “Pick you up at seven?”

  I nodded and gave him my address. “See you then.”

  He grinned at me. “See you then.”

  I was excited about the prospect of dating a handsome surgeon, but I didn’t give it too much thought until it was time to go on the date. My doorbell rang right at seven. When I opened the door, I was almost shocked to see him in casual attire and holding a big bouquet of flowers. I mean, I didn’t expect to see him in his white doctor’s coat or anything but it was different seeing him like that. And the flowers were gigantic. I’d never had a bouquet that large.

  He held them out. “This is all they had. They were sold out of everything else or something. Sorry, I hope I didn’t overdo it.”

  I laughed and took them. “That’s okay. Let me put them in some water. I mean, if I can find a vase to fit them. Oh! Come in.” I moved to the side and motioned him in.

  He entered and then I shut the door. We smiled at each other for a moment. It was weird. Not weird, but a bit odd. There was definitely something between us. I wasn’t sure what though. But it was like we were suspended in time and it was just us two in the world. It was odd as I’d never had that strong of an attraction to a man I’d just started seeing. We stood there for what seemed like a long time. Then I remembered the flowers.

  “Oh, the flowers,” I said. “Just follow me.”

  He nodded and followed me through my apartment to the kitchen. He looked around and said, “You have a great place.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, and the rent to go along with it. I’d like to buy my own apartment soon. That’s one reason I was set on the surgery.”

  “You didn’t need it,” he said.

  I wasn’t about to get into that so I just ignored him, found a vase and put the flowers in. Once I was done I said, “Ta da! They’re beautiful, thanks.”

  He stared at the flowers, then at me and muttered something.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Not as beautiful as you.”

  I blushed. “Oh, come on, Dr. Ashford.”

  “Call me Ned.”

  “Ned?” I asked.

  “Short for Edward,” he said. “You can call me that, if you like.”

  “No, I think I prefer Ned,” I said. “That okay, Ned?”

  “It’s okay,” he replied and looked around nervously and said, “I’m sorry. I think I might be too nervous for this, Elsie. I think I might just need to go.”

  He was acting strange, but not in a bad way. And I thought it was sweet he was nervous around me. Maybe, being a surgeon, he was just not used to not being in control. I put my hand on his arm and said, “Oh, come on. I’m not that bad.”

  “Oh, I know that,” he stammered, looking a little uncomfortable. “I know that. It’s not that, not at all.”

  “Then what is it?” I asked.

  He turned to me and said, “I can’t stop thinking about them.”

  “About them?” I asked, my eyebrows raised a little. What the hell was he talking about?

  “Your breasts. They’re all I can think about since I first saw them.”

  I couldn’t believe he said that, especially since he was a surgeon and saw breasts on a frequent basis.

  “They’re just so nice,” he said and ducked his head. “But that could be because I like you so much.”

  Oh, that was it. He liked me. He was a doctor but he was still a man. Yes, what he’d said was cheesy but it also solidified his feelings for me. He liked me. He liked me a lot. And I have to admit, I liked him, too. His words made me feel a jolt of lust, a bolt of heat. It seemed to course through my body and land in my panties. It was that shocking. And that much of a turn-on. But almost funny. I teetered between wanting to laugh and wanting to say something to him about saying something like that to me. I couldn’t get over his forwardness but I have to admit I kind of liked it. But I couldn’t say that. I couldn’t admit that. I gulped a little and looked away. He wasn’t the first guy to say something like this to me, but I didn’t mind him saying it and that was a first for me.

  “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have… No. I’m sorry. It’s too much.”

  “Well, I…” I started then stopped, not knowing that, exactly to say.

  “I think I should just go,” he said and hurried out of the room.

  What the hell? Men and boobs. What was the fucking deal? But I must say that this was a first for me, him acting overwhelmed like that. And I must admit I liked it. I liked that he was really into me. And that he was a little obsessed with my boobs. But all men were obsessed with boobs. He just didn’t know how to play it cool, maybe because I intimidated him in some way. I suddenly felt bad for him and so I went after him and caught him at the door. “Stop, Ned, stop!”