Hot Sex, Cool Erotica Read online

  HOT SEX COOL EROTICA

  Stories of Pleasure and Fantasy

  ALSO BY BEBE WILDE

  Adults Only: Seven Erotica Shorts

  Adults Only: Seven Erotica Shorts - Volume 2

  Adults Only: Seven Erotica Shorts - Volume 3

  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

  HOT SEX COOL EROTICA

  Stories of Pleasure and Fantasy

  Bebe Wilde

  Abernathy and Monroe

  This edition published in 2014 by Abernathy and Monroe.

  At the End of the Day: An Office Sex Erotica Short. Copyright © 2012 by Bebe Wilde.

  On the Same Page: An Office Sex Erotica Story. Copyright © 2012 by Bebe Wilde.

  Cold Hard Cash: A Story of Erotica. Copyright © 2012 by Bebe Wilde.

  Love Hurts: A BDSM Erotica Short. Copyright © 2013 by Bebe Wilde.

  Merci: A Story of Erotica, Sex and Romance. Copyright © 2012 by Bebe Wilde.

  You, Me and Him: A Ménage Erotica Short. Copyright © 2012 by Bebe Wilde.

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

  Published by Abernathy and Monroe.

  eBook ISBN–13: 978-1-938107-59-7

  eBook ISBN–10: 1-938107-59-4

  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.

  Dedication: For those who like more of a good thing.

  Contents

  At the End of the Day

  On the Same Page

  Cold Hard Cash

  Love Hurts

  You, Me and Him

  Merci

  Man on a Mission

  An American in Paris

  Come Love Me Now

  Little Slut

  How Do You Like It?

  Let the Games Begin

  Alive With Lust

  Better Left Unsaid

  At the End of the Day

  An Office Sex Erotica Short

  At the End of the Day: An Office Sex Erotica Short. Copyright © 2012 by Bebe Wilde.

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

  Published by Abernathy and Monroe.

  eBook ISBN–13: 978-1-938107-04-7

  eBook ISBN–10: 1-938107-04-7

  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 don’t mind working late.

  At the End of the Day

  It had nothing to do with my boyfriend. No, no, and no. It wasn’t about him or us or our plans for the future. Life was good. We had a nice little mid-town apartment. We talked about marriage but weren’t engaged. We talked about having kids and getting a dog. However, none of this had come to fruition. Our life together included dinners with friends, running together in the park and mulling over bills at the end of the month. It wasn’t an exciting life we were leading, but it was nice. It was comfortable. It was nothing like my life at work. At the end of the day, at least.

  Was it wrong? Probably. Could I help myself? Absolutely not.

  He was British and worked on the floor above me. No, I’m not talking about my boyfriend. We met in the elevator. He told me his company had transferred him from London. It was very fascinating. Who was this guy? He was very good looking in a dark eyed, dark haired businessman kind of way. He told me I was beautiful and I blushed. I looked good, I knew that, and I was glad someone appreciated the effort I put into my outfits, the pencil skirts, the black leather stilettos and the crisp white button-down shirts. I wore my hair up in a chignon and what my boyfriend would call nerd glasses—big, black frames that made me look smart. And I was smart. I was over the sales department and people who get those kinds of jobs usually aren’t dummies.

  It started that day, in the elevator. Just a little flirting, no more, no less. I loved the way he talked; he was smoking hot and the accent made him even more so. He laughed a nice, deep laugh and his eyes sparkled whenever he thought he’d said something funny. I could have listened to him all day long. During the day, I would fantasize about us, about what we would do after everyone else had gone home. I would fantasize about him fucking me across my desk, or across his. I would get hot just thinking about what he was going to do to me and I to him. Hot, hot, hot. So hot, I felt like masturbating, touching myself, even if I was in a meeting with a bunch of suits. It was hard to keep my mind on my work when I knew he was one floor above me, walking around, perhaps telling jokes and thinking about what he and I would be up to later.

  I didn’t plan on sleeping with him at all. We had just met on the elevator and he told me he loved my shoes, my entire outfit, that it reminded him of the ladies from the sixties that were so hot. He talked about how much care they put into the way they dressed and their hair and he thought I looked like I’d just stepped off a page of a magazine. I laughed and told him I was way too short for that. Five-foot-three doesn’t make a model. He told me I looked taller but when he stood next to me he could see that I was this smaller woman, this petite little thing. He liked that. He liked that a lot. He said it was like I was doing a magic trick on him. It made him feel bigger than he was. He was about six-foot himself.

  When the elevator stopped on my floor first, he grabbed me by the elbow and told me it was nice to meet me.

  “But I haven’t told you my name,” I said.

  “Then what is it?”

  “Chloe,” I said and smiled.

  “I’m Ted, Chloe,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

  And you, I thought. It was nice of us to meet. I nodded slightly and said, “You too. Well, see you later.”

  “Goodbye,” he said.

  I felt his eyes on me as I exited the elevator, especially on my ass. I walked slowly until I heard the doors close and then exhaled. It was like I’d been holding my breath the entire time. I shook my head, willing myself to get this intriguing man out of my head, but all I could think about was him, his hands, his face, his dark eyes and that fantastic smile. But there was nothing I could do. He was out of the question as far as a romance went. I had a boyfriend of almost four years. We were together, we were a pair. We were going to get married someday.

  But I didn’t let that stop me from thinking about him. I began to fantasize about Ted and I’d take the elevator as much as possible just so that we might “bump” into each other. However, I didn’t see him for almost two weeks. We were in one of the biggest cities in the w
orld and running into someone twice, even if they worked in the same building, was almost an impossibility.

  Even so, that didn’t keep me from trying. I tried to run into him but to no avail. I’d all but given up when a meeting ran over one day and none of us left the office until after seven. I’d called my boyfriend to explain my lateness. He told me he’d order some Chinese and he’d see me at home.

  I was walking to the elevator with several coworkers, chatting about the meeting when I realized I’d left my scarf in my office. I told them I had to run and get it as it was spring and the wind was up. If I didn’t wear it, my cheeks would be chapped beyond belief. They told me they’d hold the elevator. I said no thanks, for them to go on, that it was late and we all needed to get home. They smiled and said they’d see me tomorrow.

  After I’d retrieved my scarf, I hurried to the elevator and pushed the down button. As I waited, I realized I didn’t have much time to get home and do all the things I needed to do: Eat a bite of supper, shower, maybe have a conversation with my boyfriend and then try and get some sleep. I groaned inwardly and had a nice little fantasy about lying on a warm beach somewhere. I wished. That was my ultra goal: A nice beach vacation lying in the warm sun for however long as I wanted. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  The elevator doors finally opened and I got on, pushed the button for the lobby and watched as the doors shut. But, instead of going down, the elevator went up.

  “What the fuck!” I exclaimed, getting pissed. “Damn it.”

  I rode the elevator up to the next floor and watched as the doors opened and, much to my astonishment, Ted stepped in. For a second, I almost didn’t know what to do. I was floored and my heart started pumping hard.

  He stepped on without looking at me, pushed a button, then glanced at me. “Oh, hello! I haven’t seen you in quite some time.”

  I suddenly became tongue-tied, thinking about all the sexual fantasies I’d had since I’d met him that day. I grew embarrassed and didn’t know what to say. What do you say to someone you have a sexual crush on? I didn’t know so I kept my mouth shut.

  “Working late?” he asked, obviously oblivious to my odd behavior.

  I nodded and gave him a tight smile.

  “Tired?” he asked. “I know I am shattered.”

  Shattered? I liked how he said that. And his accent was so warm and welcoming. This made me relax so I smiled and said, “Me, too. Exhausted. I can’t even think straight.”

  He nodded, then said, “Would you like to join me for a drink? I’m going for a beer before I head home.”

  “I can’t,” I said, thinking about my boyfriend. No, I couldn’t do that.

  “Oh, sure you could,” he said. “One quick drink. Why not?”

  I gave him a tight smile and said, “I have a boyfriend.”

  “That’s what I figured,” he said. “But it’s just a drink, Chloe.”

  Oh, God! He must have thought I was some sort of idiot or some stupid-full-of-herself-stuck-up-bitch! I cringed with embarrassment and muttered, “No, I didn’t think you meant… I mean, I certainly didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay,” he said and laid a hand on my arm gently. “I understand.”

  And with that, I realized I could trust this guy. He wasn’t after me like that. Well, he probably was and if he wasn’t, I wanted to be after him. Besides, a drink is just a drink… Yeah. It’s just a drink. That would be nice. Why not? So, I said, “Sure. But only one, then I have to get home.”

  He grinned and said, “I’ll have you home at least by midnight.”

  “Maybe sooner than that,” I said. “I am really tired.”

  We found a bar down the street from our building, then a booth in the back. It was very busy and Ted had to navigate his way through a throng of people to get to the bar where he ordered a beer for himself and a glass of red wine for me.

  After he had fought his way back to our table, he set the drinks down and said, “If I’d known it was going to be this busy, we would have gone somewhere else.”

  I nodded and took a sip of my beer. “Thanks,” I said. “So, do you always work this late?”

  “Not always,” he said. “Just today; it was so harried! I mean, bloody fucking hell, it was one of those days when nothing goes right and… Ahh… Fuck it. Who cares? We’re here, having a drink. Life is good again. Cheers.”

  He held up his glass and clinked it to mine. “Cheers,” I muttered and looked around the room, then back at him, taking in his handsome face. “So, what exactly do you do?”

  He shrugged. “I’m in management. It’s boring. I hate it but the pay is good. What I really want is to move somewhere warm, like Belize or maybe the Cayman Islands, if it weren’t so expensive, and buy a little fishing boat and make my living like that. I look great in a tan, by the way.”

  Wow. He had a similar fantasy to mine. But I guess everyone had a “life at the beach” fantasy, especially when the weather was so cold.

  “What do you do?” he asked.

  “Sales,” I said. “Ditto on the boring part.”

  He nodded and stared at me, then seemed to blush and look away.

  “What is it?”

  “You’re fucking beautiful,” he said. “That’s what it is. I have a hard time looking at you.”

  I blushed and shook my head. “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

  He shook his head. “No, I won’t stop. Listen,” he said and leaned in towards me across the small table. “I won’t lie. I’ve thought about you every single day since we met and wanted to run into you on the elevator or in the lobby or wherever. I’d given up and you suddenly pop up. How’s that for fate?”

  “Or coincidence,” I said quickly.

  “No, it’s fate or serendipity or whatever,” he said softly. He stared into my eyes for a long moment and shook his head slightly. “Fuck me, but I want to fuck you. I’d love to fuck you.”

  My face burned with his words and his forwardness. Did he just say that? He had and he’d just confirmed my suspicious: We had a strong sexual attraction. But what to do about it? My hands were tied.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that. I can’t help myself around you, though. You make me so fucking horny I can’t stand it.”

  I almost cracked up. The accent, the boldness, the slight preposterousness of all of it. But it wasn’t funny. It was real. And he had just spoken my deepest desires. I wanted to fuck him too, and soon. I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to get right at it. Life is short and sometimes it just hands you something like this. It was up to me to do something about it. But did I have the guts? Could I go through with it and then deal with the guilt later? I didn’t know but I wanted to find out. He was definitely having an effect on me. He was making me want to be young and wild. He was making me want to take that chance. Opportunities rarely came around like this. Why not try it and see where it leads?

  I looked him squarely in the face. He glanced up and his eyebrows shot up. He knew something was coming, what, exactly, was anyone’s guess. “If you’re serious,” I said. “Then let’s do it.”

  His mouth dropped. “Really? I was expecting a slap across the cheek for that.”

  I shook my head. “No, I meant it. Obviously there’s an attraction here, so why wait? Why prolong it? What if we never cross paths again and always have to wonder what it would have been like?”

  “Wow,” he murmured. “You’ve got it all figured out. I like that.”

  And I liked his direct approach. I have to admit that’s what turned me on most about him. And why not come right out and say what’s on your mind sometime? This was my sometime. This was the day I did a little something for myself. That’s how I saw it, too, as doing something for me and only for me. All week, even on the weekends, it was about everyone else’s needs. It was about doing the laundry or a sales report or reporting to the boss. It was about making time for my boyfriend and buying groceries. It
was about all that mundane stuff that, if you really started thinking about, would drive you insane. So I didn’t think about it. I put myself on autopilot and I went about my business, getting it done. Today was the day I took a break and did something for myself.

  “I don’t have all night,” I said, wanting him to get the show on the road. “And I don’t care what you think. You’re up for it, right? So am I. I want it. I’ve wanted you since the day we met and I am over formalities. I hate chitchat. I don’t like innuendo. I want to fuck and I want to fuck you.”

  “Wow,” he said. “Just your words make me hard.”

  “Then let’s get to it,” I said.

  He nodded, looking around. “Where?”

  I looked around the bar then thought about the bathroom. No, too dirty and too small. I couldn’t take him back home and I didn’t know how far away his apartment was. Where could we fuck?

  “We’ll figure it out,” I said and took off my glasses, slipping them into my purse. I noticed he was watching me, so I said, “I just need them mostly for reading. And working on the computer.”

  He nodded that he understood.

  I stood, holding out my hand. “Let’s go. Ready?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely,” he muttered and grabbed my hand. I allowed him to pull us through the crowd, out the door and down the street and then into an alley. I’d never had sex outside, let alone in a public place. I didn’t care though. I just wanted him and I wanted him, like, yesterday. So, whatever. I’d make whatever concessions I had to as long as I got him. And soon.

  Once we were there, he grinned, looked around to make sure no one was around, then literally threw me up against the brick wall. I moaned as his lips overtook mine, sucking them into his mouth and eating at me. It was like this surge of energy, of electricity, was coursing through our bodies and we were fusing together. He ate at my mouth, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and I sucked on it while I grabbed at his cock, which was hard and quite large. I rubbed it through his pants as we sucked face and his hand went up my shirt and squeezed my breast hard, then he pulled back, ripped my shirt open and forced his face into my shirt and his mouth beneath my bra. Once his mouth grabbed onto my erect nipple, I screamed with ecstasy. It felt so good and I hadn’t felt this sort of passion in at least a few years.