Welcome to Siren’s Garter Erotica!

And so glad you could join us.

IssueFIVEMockup1Siren’s Garter is a special collection of erotica for men and women who love to laugh while being aroused. Each issue features a complete novella, short stories, and confessionals, all from the naughty mind of Miriam F. Martin.

Miriam’s style ranges from silly to kinky. She thinks like a man, but has the gentle touch of a woman. A recluse and a sucker for all things nerdy, Miriam strives to bring you the kind of erotic fiction she wishes she had when she was eighteen.

TheGirlUpstairsBundle_v1Whether it’s a trio of goofy succubi, a billionaire dinosaur shapeshifter, or just a sweet encounter that turns into a long night of wicked fun–Miriam hopes her stories please you as much as they pleased her.

Hermit Muse Publishing is proud to bring every one of Miriam’s sexy yarns to you.

Miriam F. Martin’s Official Bio

AfterHoursOnTheFullMoon_Coverv1Miriam F. Martin grew up wanting to be a cam girl, but excessive stage fright killed the dream. Her passion for getting strangers off over the wild worldwide web hasn’t died yet. So she focuses her time writing smutty books for smart people, like you. When not writing erotica, she also writes science fiction and fantasy.

Her hobbies include playing the guitar badly, misinterpreting the future with Tarot cards, and over-analyzing dreams. She also enjoys first-person shooters, rogue-likes, and hidden object games. Her quest in life is to have a house full of cats.

Be sure to read the blog below for news and updates.

In the mood for something off-beat and silly? Check out When the Unthinkable Happens, a series of confessional style story about a man with the worst sexual luck. Completely fiction, of course, and totally not based off any real people. At least that’s what Miriam says. Each story is free to read on this website, but also will be available in an ebook bundle.

Thank you for visiting. Have fun and, as always, be sexy!


Sunday Quickie: The Window Show

The Window Show

The neighbor lady mows her yard about the same time every evening, right after I eat supper and before I steep a pot of tea. I sit in my screened-in sunporch and smell the grass clippings on the steamy summer nights. Usually I read or listen to the radio. Often, very late at night, I take off my clothes and blow a load before bed time.

The house backs up to a forest, and nobody can see me except for Marissa, the cute neighbor.

One night while mowing the grass, she wore a straw hat and a skimpy blue bikini, the top barely concealing her ample bosom, and the bottom rode up her ass crack like floss. I had planned on reading Catcher in the Rye for the first time, but after one long stare at Marissa’s beautiful body, I dropped the book on the floor and forgot about the tea kettle on the stovetop.

She saw me and waved. I waved back, a little embarrassed by the massive bulge popping up in my shorts. I decided to at least pretend to read, pretend to drink tea, and even pretend to be the nice neighbor guy who doesn’t gawk at the girl next door. Wasn’t until she was done mowing that I realized I held the book upside down and my tea had gone stale. I figured she’d put the mower away, and then I could sit in the dark and masturbate.


Instead, Marissa got out her garden hose and watered her flower garden. Then pruned the bushes, bending over enough for me to memorize the curves on her backside. The sunporch got dark, and I turned on the floor lamp so I could “see” my book better, because I needed an excuse.

When she got out a lawn chair and sat with a beer in hand, I realized she could probably see me with the light on. I waved casually, and she saluted me with her beer bottle. Marissa leaned back in her chair, long muscular legs crossed, an amused grin on her face. She clutched one breast, and pretended to adjust the bikini top. Then I knew she’d been watching me the whole time.

I took off my shirt. I’m a long ways from chiseled, but I workout and have nothing to be ashamed of. By the time I tossed my shirt to the side, the amused grin on her face turned into a full on smile with white teeth that flashed in the waning light.

Marissa uncrossed her legs and rolled the beer bottle up one thigh. I just imagined how the cold glass must feel on her skin, and what it would be like I were the one holding the bottle. The tent pole in my pants got a lot stiffer. I pinched my nipples, twisting them, not really even thinking about what I was doing. Would she call the cops? Forever pick a different time to mow her yard?

She pulled at her bikini top, and flashed me one boob. She was lovely and firm, with a large pink nipple.

I popped the button on my jeans, then rubbed my palms down my thighs. Marissa shook a finger at me, shaking her head, and stuck her finger down the other side of her bikini top. She twisted the nipple underneath. I stood up and unzipped my pants in slow motion.

She dropped the beer onto the grass. She flicked her hair back, laughing, and kicked the bottle away with her foot.

Not to let a little spilled beer deter my impromptu strip-tease, I turned around. My jeans fell around my ankles, and I kicked them off. Pulling at my boxers, I turned around to make sure I still had her attention.

Marissa sat on the edge of her lawn chair, the bikini pulled aside and both breasts exposed now.

I slid my boxers off, showing her my ass cheeks. One hand clutching my junk, I spun on my heels. By the time I was turned around, Marissa was fumbling off the bottom half of her bikini. I removed my hand, showing her my rod. She had a lovely triangle patch of hair between legs.

We stared at each other for a long moment, like two kids seeing naked bodies for the first time. I sat back down, and started stroking. Marissa pressed a finger against her clit, and rubbed.

Pretty soon, our mutual masturbation got hot and heavy. She flicked her pearl, and shoved a finger deep into her tunnel. I stroked my shaft with one hand, and massaged my balls with the other. I sped up a little, and she kept pace with me. Then I tried slowing down, but Marissa slouched in her chair and pumped her pussy faster.

Soft moans came from her. I doubt she even knew she was making noise. Precum dripped down my hand. I wasn’t going to make it much longer at this rate. I slouched in my chair, putting one arm behind my head, and using my change in position as an excuse to stop for a moment.

Marissa didn’t seem to want to stop. Faster, more desperate, as if she had an itch she couldn’t scratch. I smacked my member for her, making the noise as loud as I could. The rest of world just sort of blurred away, and Marissa became the center of my tunnel vision.

Then suddenly a squeal erupted from her. She shivered and crossed her legs, breasts bouncing and heaving. Marissa covered her mouth. Face, neck, and upper body bright red, she leaned forward and nearly jumped out of her lawn chair.

Once she settled back down, a big smile from ear to ear, she nodded to me. For a moment I wondered about stage fright. That moment passed quick, and I stroked myself, my cock on fire in a tingly excruciating pleasurable way.

The orgasm started in my balls, and exploded upwards like an uncontrollable quake. A jet of creamy white cum blasted out of me, hit the screen window, and splattered on the floor. I sank in my chair, exhausted and warm.

Marissa stood, wobbly on her feet, and blew me kisses. I blew kisses back and watched her walk into her house.

Ever since then, Marissa and I have gotten together. But lawn mowing is now a chore we both look forward to.


If you enjoyed this week’s Sunday Quickie, please consider leaving a tip. Thank you!

Humpday Story: After All These Years

After-All-These-Years-GenericDr. Heath Olson looked older, of course, but hot damn, it’s the same man of Marissa’s misguided young fantasies. And he’s just as dashing now, standing in front of her, real as life and twice as gorgeous.

Christmas lights decorate the front picture windows of the cafe. Green, red, purple. Garland and tinsel hangs above the window frames. Seasonal music plays from the loud speakers. Everybody seems to be in a cheerful hustle, dressed in fuzzy sweaters and winter boots.

Marissa owes the Wenakaga Sun a news story on Heath. But fifteen years after she first met him, the heartache still stings.

Perhaps she owes herself something as well.

If you enjoy sexy student-teacher erotica with a holiday twist, be sure to read After All These Years.


The caramel latte was okay. Would’ve been better without the nutmeg, but it was the seasonal drink at Horney’s Coffee House. Marissa Thompson tried to make it last, sipping slowly.

Her interview appointment was late. And if he was who Marissa thought he was, then this was to be expected.

Christmas lights decorated the front picture windows of the cafe. Green, red, purple. Garland and tinsel hung above the window frames. Seasonal music played from the loud speakers—Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, and more modern renditions of the carols. Everybody seemed to be in a cheerful hustle, dressed in fuzzy sweaters and winter boots.

Marissa opted for a low cut sweater, the green one with the loose three-quarter sleeves, and regretted her choice. She had to keep her woolen scarf on and tied around her neck in order to keep at least somewhat warm. Defeated the entire point of wearing a cute sweater that showed off her pushed up cleavage.

A draft came from the bottom of the window. She shivered and held her arms tight across her chest. She wore skinny jeans and black knee-high leather boots with two inch heels. Another glance in her compact told Marissa she had enough makeup on and her gold hoop earrings looked just fine.

She dropped the compact back in her purse, and got out her notepad and pen.

In the five years of working for the Wenakaga Sun newspaper, Marissa had never worried about her outfit while out interviewing for stories. Just never occurred to her, except to appear professional and courteous. Well, there was the period while working the sports desk, and Marissa got to interview the cute college football players. But they all stank like sweaty animals after games. And then the time covering the story on the local artists’ community. Ton of cute guys, covered in paint and wet plaster-of-Paris, but they seemed oblivious to Marissa’s flirting.

Marissa sighed, and checked her long curly black hair in the dark window. What was with her?

She tucked her curls behind one ear, and looked past herself. Snow fell in fat flakes that splattered against the sidewalk. The parking lot lamps cast a dim orange glow on the cars outside.

The other Horney’s patrons smiled at her kindly, as if to encourage her. As if she were on a date. Marissa tight-lip smiled back, and then reflexively tussled her hair. She really hoped it didn’t appear she was on a date. She imagined what she appeared like—nervous, anxious, not in control of her emotions.

Truth was, Marissa had a hard time pointing at what her emotions were.

Heartbroken? A little. Sick to her stomach with nervous energy? Certainly. Uncertain of what the next hour would hold?

Yeah, sounded like a first date.

Even though she had the advantage of at least knowing the guy from years back, and recently exchanging professional emails with him.

Marissa sipped from her coffee. Now it was bitter, sweet, and lukewarm. So much for saving some of it for the interview.

She just hoped Heath Olson would hurry up already.

He’d always been late, at least as long as Marissa knew him, which unfortunately hadn’t been for long. She’d been a freshman undergrad, with no life experience and curious about everything. Heath was a grad student and the teaching assistant for Marissa’s Psych 101 class.

The lecture hall might have been filled with a hundred students, most of them female by Marissa’s memory. But Heath always seemed to make eye contact with her. Maybe it’d been because she sat center in the first row.

But Marissa imagined his attention was something else. She daydreamed about Heath. His soft brown hair that seemed permanently shabby, reaching past his ears. Brown eyes, rough stubble on his chin, the way he rolled his shirt sleeves up while making a point.

For Marissa, his lectures were never boring. She never missed a class, and always stayed after with questions. Heath, in his soothing and relaxing voice, answered every one of them. And then he’d lightly tap her on the elbow and wish her a good day.

That’s the way it was.

Never once did he say or do anything inappropriate. Or even ask her out, like she dreamed of.

Nor did Marissa ever flirt with him. At least not in a way that got his attention.

“Miss Thompson?” said a familiar smooth, relaxing voice.

Marissa jolted. Damn near tipped her coffee cup over onto her lap. She fumbled with her notepad and pen, then laughed and tried saying hello. Didn’t work out so well.

Heath Olson looked the same. A little older—fuck it, fifteen years older—but still just as hot. More attractive, if that were possible. Instead of the stubble, he was clean shaved now. Glasses sat primly on his nose, obscuring those handsome eyes a little. His hair was shorter now, not as thick and brown as she remembered.

But, hot damn, it was the same man of Marissa’s misguided young fantasies. And he was just as dashing now, standing in front of her, real as life and twice as gorgeous.

Marissa couldn’t prove it, but he seemed bigger, more muscular all over. In the back of her mind, she wondered what it would take to prove it. To get him undressed.

She shook her head. And then smiled kindly, standing up, and offered her most professional handshake.

“Yes, call me Marissa,” she said. “Heath?”

“Yes,” he said. Heath held her hand a moment too long. He held eye contact, captivating her with his brown eyes.

Did he recognize her?

How could he? College was a long time ago, another lifetime, and he must’ve taught hundreds of freshmen girls.

The warm handshake ended. They sat down. Marissa sniffed her coffee and set it aside. She went through the motions of thanking him for meeting her. In a small way, she was thankful to just be this close to Heath again, after all these years of wondering what might’ve happened.

Three long-term boyfriends, one who proposed but never followed through. A house. Four major career changes. And more pet guinea pigs than she could name off the top of her head.

On the flip side… Marissa still wondered. If he noticed her. If he felt the same way. If a fire could be rekindled, even though the fire was less than a spark in reality.

“You okay?” Heath said.

“Huh? Yes,” said Marissa. “Sorry for being a bit spacey tonight.”

“No worries.” He leaned forward on his elbows. Then he pointed at her cup. “Maybe I can freshen your cup for you?”

Marissa giggled despite herself. “I’d appreciate that. And then we can do this interview.”

“Sure thing.” Heath stood, and leaned across her for the cup. He tapped her on the elbow before turning around.

She melted. As he walked away, Marissa realized she was holding her breath. And then she realized she was staring at his backside while he ordered a cup for himself, and a fresh brew for Marissa.

Heath came back before she was ready, and not a moment too soon.

“So,” he said. “I suppose you wanted to ask me questions.”

“That’s how this usually works,” Marissa said. Truth was, she wasn’t sure what to ask him anymore. The story, her assignment for the newspaper. He started up a community outreach program for mental health, and won several awards and grants for doing so.

“Not sure what you’d want to know,” Heath said.

“What do you mean?” she said.

“I’m just a community college professor with too much time on his hands,” he said. Heath rubbed his mouth, and then took a careful sip of coffee. “Look, sorry. I don’t seek recognition for what I do. I just do it.”

“And that makes you a good man,” she said.

Heath smiled, showing his laugh lines and a slight blush on his neck. He gazed at her, eyes narrowed. As if studying her. Marissa squirmed under his scrutiny. She smiled back, realizing how much she enjoyed him watching her. How much more she’d enjoy that gaze if she were naked.

Heath glanced away first, pretending to look at the garland and tinsel. “Sorry,” he said. “You just seem familiar. More than familiar, but I’m afraid if you’re not who I think you are. If that makes sense.”

“Who do you think I am?” Marissa’s heart hammered against her ribs.

“When I was a grad student, I taught Psych 101,” Heath said. “And there was a student, who sat in the front row of the lecture hall. She was gorgeous like you, but eighteen at the time and wet behind the ears.”

Marissa told him where she went to college. Heath’s face lit up like he’d just gotten the best Christmas present ever.

“I had hoped,” he said, and reached out and touched her hand. He let go almost as soon as he touched her. “But I wasn’t sure if it’d be you.”

“I never stopped dreaming about you,” Marissa said.

“And I never forgot you,” he said.

Marissa’s heart fluttered up her throat. She wasn’t sure whether to reach for his hand, kiss him, or take a sip of coffee. She did none of the above. Instead she waited with her hands folded in front of her.

Heath cleared his throat. “I couldn’t ask you out,” he said. “I wanted to. But I didn’t dare risk it.”

“I understand,” Marissa said. “Not so much at the time. But I do now.”

“Perhaps we can make up for lost time?” He smirked. “Unless you have someone…”

“No,” she said, smiling broadly. “Do you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “But hey, we’re already on a coffee date of sorts. Right?”

“I’ll take it,” Marissa raised her cup.

They clinked cups together. Outside, the snow kept falling.

* * *

Three hours later, Marissa and Heath were kicked out of the coffee shop by a tired barista. Out in the fluffy snow, the wind making her lips and cheeks pleasantly numb, Marissa kissed him. Just a quick peck on the cheek. Innocent. Mostly.

“I wish the night didn’t have to end,” she said.

“It doesn’t have to,” said Heath. “If you’re thinking what I’m thinking.”

“What do you think I’m thinking?” She smacked him on the arm.

“That it’s too fucking cold to stand out here teasing each other.”

Marissa smiled. Her cheeks felt numb and warm. “Follow me home. I have hot chocolate.”

“Sounds delicious.”

She got into her car, he got into his. Marissa couldn’t wait for the engine to properly heat up. Nor could she drive slow enough to be safe on the icy roads. And when she welcomed Heath into her front door, she was so excited that taking her boots off was a challenge.

She led him by the hand, icy cold fingers inter-locked with his, to the kitchen, where she put a kettle of milk onto the stove. Soon enough, the man of her dreams sat with Marissa in her living room. On her couch, right next to her. So close she could feel his warm breath on her neck.

She barely believed it. She had long considered her fantasies of Heath only that—wild fantasy, originally spun by a love-struck girl who should’ve known better.

And now, here he was. Marissa hadn’t even interviewed him for the newspaper story. Business was just going to have to wait. Over the course of the evening, she had learned so much about him, and shared so much of her life with him. It had been wonderful and magical. And Marissa felt it wasn’t over. Couldn’t be.

“Sorry,” she said. “I really wanted to write the story first thing tomorrow.”

“Write whatever story you need to,” Heath said. “Tonight is for us.”

He set aside both of their mugs, and then stroked her hair. Marissa closed her eyes, savoring the sensation. He had strong, rough fingers. Gentle, but forceful if a bit nervous. She didn’t blame him for being unsure.

But Marissa had waited fifteen years for this moment to happen.

She blew on her hands, to make sure they were warm, and then placed them on his face. Holding him.

And then she kissed him.

She meant it to be a short peck. A beginning, with no promise of anything else. But then it deepened. They locked lips, tagged each other with their tongues, and his body heat was too much for her.

Marissa pressed both hands against his chest. And then she slid onto his lap, straddling him. Heath used his gentle fingers and explored her body. Up her ribs. Across her back. Her shoulder blades. And then back down to her hips. She kissed him slow, savoring him for as long as possible.

It was everything she’d dreamed of. But she still wanted more.

He broke the kiss first. Panting, red in the face, but without the uncertainty. In place of uncertainty, was conviction. Conviction Marissa shared. She knew Heath wasn’t leaving her home without getting naked first. She felt it.

On a whim, Marissa slipped her sweater off. Before him, with so much skin exposed and lacy black bra nearly in his face, she felt both vulnerable and powerful. His fingers grazed up her stomach, loving and smooth. Heath cupped both breasts, squeezing for a moment before Marissa playfully shoved his hands away.

He gave her a devilish, irresistible grin. And then he reached around behind her.

Marissa expected him to unclasp her bra. Instead, Heath massaged her shoulders, and then slid her bra straps down. She tugged at his shirt, unbuttoning him as fast as her shaking hands allowed.

He had a smooth chest with wild hairs around the nipples. Marissa stroked his nipples and pinched them. Heath closed his eyes and leaned his head back. She massaged down his torso. Down his stomach, to the belt. She tugged, making him gasp and snap his eyes back open.

Heath stood and helped her with the rest. The button, the zipper, pulling his briefs down just enough for him to whip it out. He was long, well hung, with a bulbous head and half erect. A string of pre-cum stretched from his tip to the inside of his briefs. Marissa slid down between his legs, pulling his pants down further, breaking the string. Heath sat back down and raised his backside and Marissa helped him entirely out of them.

The room smelled pleasantly of him, an odor she realized she missed. Been too long, way too long, since she last had a mostly naked man in her life.

Marissa knelt closer. She stuck her tongue out and licked him down the shaft. He breathed slower, like he was meditating and found his center. Marissa took one ball into her mouth and tugged. Then did the same to the other. Heath moaned, playing with her hair. The sounds he made turned Marissa on even more.

She discovered something else she missed without realizing it—being cock hungry.

Marissa licked him up and down, savoring every sweet inch. The veins popping out, the salty skin, the prickly hair at the base. She had forgotten what it was like, taking a man into her mouth and watching him react. The “oh God” expression on his brow. The way Heath’s lips quivered while she toyed with him. How he flexed his muscles while playing with her hair.

When Marissa took him all the way inside her mouth, he let out the sexiest moan. Another thing she’d forgotten about. The sounds. The sighs. The pleading.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Heath said. “Oh, God. Fuck. Yeah.”

She couldn’t deep-throat him. Not a big guy like Heath. Maybe one day, if he taught her. He’d taught her many things in college. Marissa wanted him to teach her other  kinds of things now.

But she took him in as far as possible. She loved the way her lips naturally wrapped around him, like she was made for him.

And then he pushed her away. A wild, savage look in his eyes. Heath lifted her by the arms and turned her around. Marissa pressed her palms against the back of the couch, planted her knees on the cushion with her thighs wide apart.

Heath buried his nose into her privates. Licked her out, flicked her clit with his tongue. When he entered her with a finger, she asked for more. Pleaded. Fingers weren’t enough. Not after all this time and all those late night fantasies with her sex toys instead of the real thing.

“One sec,” Heath said. He left. She could hear him digging around in his jacket in the front hall. Heath came back with a condom.

“Came prepared?” Marissa said.

“When you first contacted me,” he said, “I wondered if it was you. I wanted it to be you. And so, yes, I came prepared for this.”

“You sly devil.” Marissa stuck her ass further up in the air. Already wet and eager. She was glad he’d brought a condom. Made the night more perfect than it already was. “Need some help?”

Heath bit the condom wrapper, with no luck. Marissa laughed at him—with him, at least he was a good sport and laughed at himself. She got off her hands and knees and turned to face him.

Marissa took the condom from him, opened it with no fuss, and then knelt before him. One last lick and suck, just to taste him again, to get him fully hard. Didn’t take much. She licked his salty precum from his tip, and he twitched to full mast. Marissa slipped the condom onto his cock. She always enjoyed this part. Taking control. Watching the guy look on in eager anticipation.

The very fact this Heath’s cock… the man she figured she’d never see again. Never get to truly know, except as a teacher from long ago. And now he was here, in front of her, the smell of his cock mixing with the lube on the condom.

Once the condom was slipped down, Marissa stood up. Then she nudged Heath into the couch.

And then she turned around herself and sat in his lap. Marissa reached between her legs and grabbed him by the cock. She put his tip into her pussy. And then wiggled, her slick juices sliding him the rest of the way in. She rotated her hips, loving the way his hit her spot just right. Loving the way he massaged and occasionally slapped her ass while she fucked him slowly.

Her skin heated up. Sweat pooled inside her bra. Marissa ran her fingers through her hair. Somebody screamed. She was surprised it was her. Heath shifted under her, and then she felt his body heat pressed against hers. He reached around and fingered her clit while she rolled her hips back and forth. Another scream escaped her throat, and this time she didn’t hold back.

“Marissa,” he said in her ear.

“Heath,” she said. “Oh, baby! Fuck!”

Her pussy tightened and spat his cock out. Every part of her—the inside of her pussy, her toes, the tips of her breasts—tingled with orgasm. A flood erupted from her, ruining her couch. Heath shuddered underneath her. Heat flushed her body. She felt light headed.

But Heath was still hard.

Marissa grabbed his cock and slipped him back inside her. This time, she bounced up and down while rubbing his balls. Faster. Not holding anything back. Skin slapping skin. She pleaded him to give it to her.

He clutched her torso, holding her tight. Then he stood up and threw her into the couch. Heath smacked her on the ass.

And then, he was inside her again, doggy style.

Pumping her like a man possessed.

Marissa could barely breathe. Barely focus, except on the beautiful sensation of being fucked.

And then she felt him twitch inside her. Felt the condom grow warm with his semen. His cock fell out of her, she was so wet.

Marissa fell on her back, dizzy and giddy. Heath settled down on top of her, head on her breasts, and kissed her sweaty skin.

“Thank you,” he said. “I only dreamed…”

“No. Thank you.” Marissa played with his hair until he fell asleep in her arms.

And then she slept too.

* * *

Later, Marissa invited him upstairs to her bedroom, where they made love again. At dawn, wrapped up in his arms, bedsheets soaked in their body fluids, Marissa thought about getting up.

She needed to write the article. Even without the interview, she could’ve at least drafted it out. It’d be something for her editor to have. She had a deadline for this, after all.

Heath snored. He smelled of raunchy sex and sweat. Marissa’s hair was completely tangled. She had no idea what to do with Heath in the morning.

She’d had the best night of her life.

And all thanks to the man she loved in college. The one man she once convinced herself was long gone. Those lonely nights, crying about what never happened, seemed like ages ago.

And now, Marissa finally had wild sex with her teacher, after fifteen long years of wondering.

It had been better than she ever dreamed.

Before she nodded off to sleep again, she dreamed the morning sex would be even better.


Thank you for reading! If you would like to purchase this story, you can find it at your favorite retailer. [INSERT LINK] Or feel free to leave a tip with the PayPal button below.

Sunday Quickie: The Girl Upstairs

The Girl Upstairs


My downstairs neighbor is hot. Smoking, hot. Tall, dark black hair, baby smooth skin. Ryan is his name. He does the yard work for our landlord. Once a week I wake up to the smell of fresh cut grass, and I hear the clip-clip-clip of him trimming the bushes directly below my dinette window.

The aroma of fresh Arabian coffee mixes with the fresh grassy scent. I open the yellow lacy dinette window curtains and look out below at him. I’m wearing a lacy black bra and white Brazilian cut panties. He’s got on a pair of khaki shorts and tennis shoes. I hope he can see me.

So I tap on the window. Innocently, of course. Tap-tap. Ryan looks up, and nearly drops the trimmers. He fumbles for a bit, makes a nice recovery by catching the trimmers in one hand, and waves at me. I wave back, an impish grin flushing my cheeks. For an awkward moment too long, we stare at each other as if for the first time. Ryan looks away first, face and neck red from the sun, and he goes back to trimming the bushes.

I get an idea.

I slip on my cutest pair of wedge sandals and my nearly see-through pink bathing robe, and I go downstairs with a full bottle of ice water.

“Hey neighbor,” I say, offering him the water. “You look like you need a drink.”

“I do,” he says, and drinks the water in one long gulp. I take the opportunity to check out his chiseled abs, and the way sweat drips down his skin.

“More where that came from,” I say. It’s a struggle to avert my eyes from his beltline. I manage, for a second or two, but he’s hard, and he’s not exactly hiding it.

Ryan grins wolfishly, as if he knows exactly what’s going on in my brain. The bulge gets bigger, fuller. I want to reach out and tap it. That’s exactly what I do. He doesn’t flinch, or smack my hand away.

“Maybe,” I say, “you should get your ass upstairs before you embarrass me.”

“Embarrass you how? Like this?” Ryan undoes his pants and whips it out, he’s not even wearing boxers. His cock is bigger than most of my toys, with a fat mushroom head and a thick shaft that bends upward. The ball sack is equally huge.

I push him against the apartment building, in between the bushes. Luckily, there’s a little ledge for him to sit on. I slip off my panties, let them drop to my ankles. What am I doing? Fucking this near stranger in the garden between buildings? Letting him see my trimmed bush like this?

Mine is trimmed down to a cute little landing strip. Ryan is fast to touch me, and slips a finger inside while his thumb rolls across my clit. I lean in and kiss him. Tongue action follows.

My heart races. Soon I’m working up a sweat in the sweltering heat. Ryan is hot and grimy beneath my fingers. Before I know it, I’m straddling that monster cock and grinding it with my hips.

Ryan makes cute panting noises. He’s trying to be quiet, to not draw attention from anyone who happens to be passing by.

Deep down somewhere, maybe in my pussy, I know what a dumb idea this is. But I’m too busy squealing in delight as the orgasm hits.

My pussy squirts, watering his cock and balls. I squeeze a fistful of his hair and rotate his head as I kiss him hard to squelch my scream.

Ryan responds by grabbing my ass in both hands and pulling me closer.

He allows me a moment to bask. I push away first, and collect my panties from under the bush. Ryan zips up his shorts, but he’s still hard.

“Come by tonight,” I pat him on the crotch gently. “And I’ll finish the job.”

“I’ll bring dinner,” he says, and winks.

One last quick kiss before I head back upstairs. Ryan might have a long day of work ahead of him, but he has a long night of fucking after that.

I hope he’s well rested.


If you enjoyed this week’s Sunday Quickie, please consider leaving a tip. Thank you!

Frisky February Bundle Presale!

Frisky February CoverJust a quick announcement… I am so humbled to be featured in the upcoming Frisky February bundle, which is currently on pre-sale and will be available through BundleRabbit and other retailers. This bundle is HUGE (that’s what she said). Nineteen books, all yours for a minimum purchase of $3.99. Some incredibly fine authors in this one, so don’t miss out.

The bundle goes live on January 25, but is on pre-sale now. You can find it at: BundleRabbit, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Apple.

In the words of A. L. Butcher, the curator of Frisky February:

February is the sexiest and most romantic month of the year. Grab something hot and sensual and settle down to enjoy it slowly…This collection of steamy reads should keep you simmering for the whole month. From aliens to elves; from romance to red-hot; from ladies enjoying ladies; from sexy vampires to sex-starved superheroes.

Fantasy, romance, erotica, LGBT fiction, science fiction, and more in this 19 book collection.


Frisky February Montage

Humpday Story: Dawn at the Sunset Corral


Dawn Copperpot comes out to the creek by the Sunset Corral for only one reason. Well, two—to be by herself, and to masturbate.

After a long morning of mucking out stables, Dawn needs the me-time. Armed with a shotgun, a couple of sex toys, and her imagination; she waits for the sunrise to have the perfect orgasm. But her imagination leads her to the memory of Nate Ramsey, the one who got away.

Until a nearby twig snaps.

If you enjoy sweet, contemporary Western-inspired erotica, be sure to read Dawn at the Sunset Corral.



Dawn Copperpot unbuttoned her red flannel shirt and spread her arms out wide. The cool night air had a certain crispness to it right before sunrise. The air bit and tickled at her bare skin. She closed her eyes, enjoying every sensation.

Sunset Creek trickled at her feet, the water lapping at slick stones. Crickets chirped. An owl hooted in the distance. Twigs cracked not far away, probably deer. PJ, Dawn’s favorite horse, snorted. All around, the smells of nature filled Dawn with energy—the smell of lilacs, and sap from the maple trees, and the decay of fallen limbs.

The nearest town was fifteen miles away. And it was little more than a bar, a boarded up post office, and a white church with a steeple.

This spot, at the creek where it bends around the Sunset Corral, was her spot. Few people ever came out this way. Nobody ever visited at this time of the morning, not even hunters and fishers.

Dawn lost track long ago how many times she came here to masturbate.

Beginning when she was fifteen, maybe? Maybe a tad earlier, right before high school. She’d come back here during breaks from college, just to commune with nature, as she liked to think of it. She came here when she was frustrated, or tired, or lonely.

Out here, her cell phone didn’t work. The noises of trucks and cars on County Road 69 seemed so far away, almost non-existent. Most important, there were no people.

The only things Dawn needed here were a shotgun to fend off a wolf, her horse PJ so she could ride back to the Corral proper, and a sex toy or two.

And her imagination.

She spread a blanket on the soft ground, and knelt down. Earlier in the morning, before anybody ever thought of rising out of bed, she mucked out the stables at the Corral. She fed and tended to all the horses. Tina, the owner of the Corral, was nursing a broken ankle, so everybody pitched in and did double duties. Dawn chose to do her chores before sunrise.

That way, she had plenty of time to finish up around the Corral, then have a picnic breakfast of salted jerky, cold biscuits, and coffee from a thermos. And then, of course, ride out to the creek and get naked for a little while.

It was her way of relaxing before facing the morning drunkards at Lefty’s Tavern. Dawn figured if she showed up with a big smile and smelling a little musky, she might get better tips.


She slanted the hood on the lantern so the golden light dimmed. Then she loosened her ponytail and let her waist length brown hair fall down her shoulders. Earlier, before riding out to the creek, she had changed from her sweaty t-shirt and jeans, and slipped into a clean flannel shirt and a short denim skirt. She left her tennis shoes back at the stables, and wore her red cowgirl boots. Not the most practical footwear, but definitely the most fun for what she had in mind.

She left her shirt on, for some sake of warmth, but unhooked the front clasp of her bra. Her nipples were especially sensitive, and perked right up in the chilly air. She cupped them in her hands, twisting the nipples with her rough finger tips.

The sun would rise within the half hour. She imagined the golden orange glint on the water, the warmth the sun would bring, and the amazing orgasm she hoped to have while the sun rose.

Already the horizon was tinged pink and orange, the first hints of dawn. She very much wanted to get busy.

Dawn dropped her panties to her ankles and kicked them aside. They were plain and black, and smelled a little funky from the workout she’d had earlier. She was still sweaty behind the neck and between her thighs. Her muscles were a little sore from heaving the shovel.

She smoothed out the blanket and sat down. The earth felt cool under her as she lay down on her back. She reached over to her backpack. She got out the small, pink bullet vibrator, a clit stimulator. A moment later, she found the bottle of lube, also in her backpack.

The lube was cool on her privates. Dawn turned on her toy, and pressed it on her clit, rubbing in lazy motions. The coolness didn’t last long. With one arm tucked behind her head, she closed her eyes.

And she thought of past boyfriends. At least the ones she missed in the bedroom. Tony, who could do amazing things with his hands and tongue. Zack, who had the most amazing cock Dawn had ever experienced. And of course Jeff, who knew how to wine and dine her before every all-night marathon of mind blowing sex.

As much as she enjoyed her solitude, Dawn longed to be touched. And loved. Maybe by all three of those ex-boyfriends at once. They would never go for that—they each were too manly to share a woman with another dude, much less two other dudes. But the fantasy was strong in Dawn’s mind. She squeezed her legs tight around the throbbing vibrator and pinched a nipple. She imagined Zack in her pussy, Jeff in her ass, and Tony suckling her breasts.

The first edge of an orgasm crested inside her. Too much, too soon. She pulled away the vibrator. Sweat pooled behind her back. Her hair clung to skin. So close. Dawn caught her breath, and this time slipped a finger inside while she pressed the vibe on her clit.

Her mind wandered to other men in her life. Each one pressed her further towards that edge. Henry, the sexy mailman from before when the post office in town closed. James, a boy who used to tease her in high school.

And Nate… the one who got away.

He’d worked as a horse trainer at the Sunset Corral right after Dawn got back from college. He was tall and rugged, never seemed to shave but also never quite had a beard. He had the most handsome brown eyes, the kind Dawn got lost in when she day-dreamed while masturbating at the creek.

Nate had been so kind to her. Always with a fast joke and a heart melting smile. Dawn, at one time, imagined marrying him and having children with him.

But he never asked her out, for reasons unclear to Dawn.

And she never pursued him, for reasons that now seemed stupid to her in hindsight.

She just got her degree, and put in job applications all over the country. Dawn was going to have a career. Live in a big city. Make lots of money. And he was just a simple horse trainer in a small town. Dawn didn’t want to get attached and make him decide to leave the small town behind for her sake.

And now, older and wiser and having lived in a big city for a time, Dawn kicked herself for believing her own bullshit.

One of her biggest disappointments was waving goodbye to Nate when she boarded the bus out of town. The other big disappointment was discovering Nate no longer seemed to live in town when she moved back.

But the memory of him was sweet, even if it stung a little. She remembered the shape of his lips and the texture of his rough five o’clock shadow. She adored the way the wind blew his thick black hair. The way his shoulders and back tapered into a V to his waist. And how he never seemed to run out of sweet and funny things to say to her.

Dawn imagined Nate’s hands all over her. Imagined how desperate he’d be, after all these years, to finally touch her without inhibition.

She squeezed her breasts together with one hand and pressed the vibrator tighter against her clit. The orgasm built up and this time she didn’t want to hold back for the sun rise. The darkness was just fine. That’s how she wanted Nate. In the dark, where he couldn’t see her clearly, and he could just use her any which way he wanted.

Dawn pressed a finger inside her pussy while holding the vibrator on her hood. Her orgasms came from the clit, and that’s something Nate would understand. At least the fantasy Nate, who held her close while fucking her. He’d ease up right at the edge of her release, and then rub her clit to orgasm.

Then finally, release.

A small scream came out of Dawn’s throat. She couldn’t help it. Her toes curled. Her fingers were soaked wet. Her thigh muscles tightened.

And then a twig snapped. Another deer? No! This was closer.

She snapped her head around. At first, she saw only the glare of his flashlight. And then saw him.

Nate, rugged as ever, though a bit older but every bit as sexy. He stood there in front of her, sure as the sunrise that was about to happen.

Dawn yelped in surprise and leapt to her feet.

He lowered his flashlight, then tipped his cowboy hat and covered his eyes.

Also Alone

Nate Ramsey didn’t recognize her at first. She looked cold and hot at the same time, nipples erect and hair clinging to the sides of her face. The air smelled of maple trees, lukewarm coffee, and a horny woman in heat. She tried her best to hide herself, closing up the flannel shirt around her open bra, squeezing her legs tight together. In the process of being so vulnerable, she just appeared even sexier.

He lowered his hat over his eyes and turned around out of decency. Well, that and to hide the wicked grin on his face. And the boner in his pants.

He’d been surprised that anyone was out this far away from the Corral at this time of morning. But here she was, right in front of him and every bit as beautiful, more so, as he remembered her.

Dawn. The girl who got away, slipped away from his fingers, but never completely left his heart.

He’d been back in town for only a day. He’d heard Tina needed help at the Sunset Corral for the short term, and was more than happy to set aside his life for a few weeks. Fuck it, he was unhappy as hell with law school and the direction his life had taken. Time for another change, and maybe one that would bring him back to where he’d already been.

The time at the Corral was nothing but good memories tending horses, breathing fresh air, and teasing Dawn. Back then, she was just a grown up girl, idealistic and naive.

Now, clearly, she was really grown up. And half naked.

While out walking in the woods around the Corral, clearing his head and taking in fresh air in the early morning, Nate had heard the muffled scream in the darkness, coming from near the creek. A woman’s scream. He half ran, best as he could through the trees, thinking somebody needed help. And now he bit his lip to keep from laughing at himself.

The supposed “damsel in distress” was one of the strongest women he’d had the pleasure to know. And she clearly didn’t need his help, on several different counts.

“Hey Dawn,” he jammed one hand in his jeans’ pocket. Bad idea, his fingers rubbed up against his erection. He carefully repositioned his hand. Nate thought hard about the yellow circle of light his flashlight made on the moss covered ground, and less about the incredibly beautiful woman behind him with her tits hanging out.

He hesitated, not liking the silence from her. So much to say, after so many years of not saying what he badly wanted to say. Nate let out a sigh, and took a step away. “Hope to see you around,” he said with another tip of his cowboy hat.

He meant to leave her. Let her get decent. Maybe later they could talk over drinks, or coffee, pretend he hadn’t just interrupted her while masturbating.

All those things he wanted to tell her could wait, after all. They’d waited damn near a decade anyway.

“Nate,” she said. She rustled her clothes back into shape. “You can turn around.”

Was that joy in her voice? Or just his own hope? Maybe she was only teasing him, like she used to all the time.

Nate turned around. Dawn was buttoned up, though still clearly flummoxed. She flattened her hair and gave him the lovely smile he’d long dreamed of.

“I apologize for…” Nate waved his hands about, unsure how to finish that sentence. He spotted something small and pink and wet behind her cowgirl boot. She kicked at it with her heel. Vibrator? “Sorry for catching you…”

“You sure caught me off guard,” she smiled sweetly, face flushed bright red.

“Yeah, that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. If anything, he felt like the one being caught off guard. How was he supposed to prepare himself for encountering the woman he’d dreamed of for the last decade? How would he have prepared himself for seeing her breasts for the first time, in this way?

He stole a quick glance. They were just like how he remembered. Big, but not ridiculously so. A fun handful. Tucked inside a bra, they appeared firm and round. He decided he liked them better outside the bra.

Dawn cleared her throat. He tore his glance away from her breasts, up her smooth throat and chin, back to her eyes.

“How have you been?” Nate said.

She stepped closer, one step. “I…” she said. “I’ve been good. You?”

How to sum up so many years? To tell her how many lonely nights he lay awake thinking of her? How all the other women he’d been with never fully satisfied him?

“I’m good too,” he said.

Nate stepped closer to her. She closed the distance. Up close, Dawn smelled like wet pussy. His erection tugged at his jeans anew, as if trying to get out. He had no illusions she hadn’t noticed. Of all the scenarios he’d dreamed up, of how maybe one day he could encounter Dawn once again, and what he’d say to her, what he might do—this was not what he had thought of.

He cupped her face with one hand. He liked how she fit so perfectly against his palm. Dawn raised her dark green eyes up at him. Her skin was flushed from forehead to her half exposed chest.

No, not what he dreamed of.

But it felt so right.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. He expected it to be a quick brush of the lips. Something he could write off as a friendly “hello there” if she didn’t want it. He started to pull away.

Dawn wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him back in. Nate slipped his arm around her waist, bringing her close as possible. For being half naked just a moment ago, she was hot to the touch. Her body heat seeped through their clothes.

Their lips met, this time with less grace, their teeth gnashing. Another try was the charm. He gave her the tip of his tongue, and she returned with all of hers. Nate’s heart hammered against his ribs. He thought for sure she could feel his heartbeat, it was that fast and strong.

Or was that her heartbeat he felt? Nate didn’t care. She was in his arms, at last. Dream come true.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if this would last. Of course it wouldn’t. The embrace would end. The kiss would end.

Dawn tugged at his denim jacket until the seams nearly popped. In a moment of weakness, he allowed his hand to wander down her back. He cupped her ass in both hands. Just a quick, gentle squeeze and he let her go.

And then she broke the kiss, and pulled away. She held him at arm’s length.

Nate silently wondered what that meant. By the wild look in her eyes and the sweet curl of her swollen lips, he knew he was in trouble. The good kind of trouble, at least.

“You never called,” she said, her smile flattening. Her brow crinkled. “Or wrote.”

“Neither did you,” Nate said. It was harsh, he knew, but true. “I’m sorry.”

“I let you go for the stupidest of reasons,” she said.

He squeezed her elbows and let her go. But she clung to his shoulders.

“You had a career,” he said. “I would’ve held you back.”

“I held myself back,” she said. “I suppose we both did.”

“Thing is,” said Nate, “I have no idea why I never asked you out for more than coffee and pie. I was crazy for you.”

“I’m still crazy for you,” Dawn said. She pressed her hands against his chest and leaned forward, kissing him sweetly just below the lips.

He took her by the hips and brought her back close to him. She grunted, and then kissed him deeper.

When the kiss broke, he pressed his forehead to hers for a brief moment. “The sun’s about to rise,” he said. “Want to watch it?”

“Very much,” Dawn said. She glanced at the blanket spread out on the ground. Even in the pre-dawn light, Nate could see small wet marks where she’d had orgasms. “Come on,” she took him by the hand, “there’s a big tree stump we can sit on.”

A few yards up the creek, there was a stump wide enough for the two of them to sit comfortably together. He held her hands, and she snuggled against him.

Above the tree tops, the sun rose. A cascade of gold, orange, and pink lit the sky on fire. Nate had seen many sunrises, but none quite this beautiful. He sat silent, and so did Dawn. No words seemed necessary in this moment, as if speaking would ruin the experience. He felt a lightness in his chest. A quiet, content feeling that spread throughout his body.

After the sun cleared the tops of the trees, Nate found her lips again.

When the kiss ended, he figured that would be it for now. Maybe they could grab coffee and breakfast, and catch up.

But Dawn grabbed a fistful of his shirt and locked eyes with him. She tore the cowboy hat off his head, and then covered the bottom half of her face with it. Her eyebrows raised up in tiny arches. Dawn had amazing laugh lines he either never noticed, or completely forgot about.

She tossed his hat aside. “What now, cowboy?”

Not So Alone

Dawn held her breath, hoping for the right answer to her question. She tried hard not to giggle when he stammered incoherently, but she couldn’t help it. A light hearted laugh erupted out of her, high pitched and probably annoying to anybody who might’ve passed by. Good thing she was alone with Nate.

If anything, her laughter made him seemingly more nervous. And then he got a serious expression in his eyes, as if he were in a life-or-death staring contest with her. He tugged at the top button of her shirt.

Her heart thundered. Every nerve in her body lit up, like a jolt of triple espresso giving her the jitters. She hated espresso for that reason. But she couldn’t imagine this feeling getting old when around him.

And she knew what to do with these jitters.

Dawn held his hand, and then pressed his palm flat against her chest, right between her breasts. He stopped stammering. A decade of words not said hung between them. Joys and pains not shared. A life not lived.

I love yous not given or received.

She had so much to share with him. She didn’t know where to begin.

Nate opened the top button of her shirt. His fingers were steady. Decisive. Even if he didn’t know what to say for now, he definitely knew what he wanted. Another button, and soon enough her skin was exposed to him.

He didn’t spend very long staring at her, thankfully. Nate embraced her in his strong arms. He kissed the side of her neck, just below the earlobe. His breath was hot against her skin. She fumbled with opening his shirt, which turned out to be hard to do from within his arms. But she managed it, and ran her fingers down his firm chest and stomach.

His hands wandered all over her body. Through her hair, down her back, along her sides. Then he scratched down one thigh, and reached between her legs and up her skirt. Dawn squirmed under his touch, which made him even bolder. She opened her legs for him, inviting him. He found her pussy with the tip of his finger, and flicked at her clit.

She closed her eyes, enjoying what he did to her. She ran her fingers through his hair, and tugged gently as she leaned forward for another kiss.

This time, the kiss wasn’t sweet. This kiss was hot and desperate. Naughty. Dawn scratched down his chest with her fingernails, down to his belt buckle. His bare skin smelled fresh and woodsy. Her pussy became wet again.

Thankfully the early morning was warming up fast, because soon enough they both had their shirts off. Nate wasted little time finding the front clasp to her bra, and expertly opened it with two fingers. She found his belt buckle again, and after tickling him a bit she opened his jeans wide.

He wore black boxers. His cock strained against the fabric, and made a little wet spot with pre-cum.

Dawn stroked him through the fabric. She wanted to know what he looked like, how big he really was, but at the same time she wanted the anticipation to go on forever. It was like tearing the wrapping off a gift—once done, the gift was unwrapped and couldn’t be re-wrapped.

So instead, she just held him in her hand for a moment. Nate didn’t seem to mind, by the goofy smile on his face.

“Wish I brought a condom,” he shook his head.

Dawn mock sighed and rolled her eyes. “Maybe next time you’ll think of that,” she said. She winked. “I’m on birth control. And I trust you to not have a disease.”

His smile got even goofier. “I trust you too.”

Dawn glanced away, suddenly unsure of herself. She never gave her trust this easily to any man. What had gotten into her?

He pointed to the blanket on the ground. “Maybe we should get comfortable?” he said.

She stood up, tugging on his cock the whole way up. He followed her.

“Let’s,” she said, and led him to her blanket.

And then she dropped to her knees and tugged his jeans and boxers down to his ankles. He had a wonderful cock—just long enough to hold him with both hands, and thick enough to fill her palms. She held him for a moment, slowly stroking until his pre-cum wetted her fingers.

Then she tasted him with her tongue, licking the saltiness off and spitting it back on him. She loved the way he moaned and twitched under her touch. Like she had perfect control over him.

The thrill lit her up.

He tapped her shoulder and pointed at the ground. Dawn didn’t know what he meant at first. When he pushed her to a laying down position, she had a better idea. The thrill intensified as she wondered what he’d do next.

He returned the oral favor, starting with a slow lick across her lady parts. She wrapped her legs around his neck, drawing him as close as possible. His tongue felt so wonderful on her clit. The sensation nearly sent her over the edge. Until he slipped a finger inside. Thankfully he didn’t entirely ignore her clit, but it wasn’t the same anymore. He fingered her like a man possessed.

She’d have to teach later.

For now, she needed to take charge.

Dawn loosened her legs from around him, and pushed him away. “On your back, cowboy,” she said.

He seemed a bit confused at first, but he did as she asked.

Dawn helped him out of his shoes, pants, and underwear. Then she took off her skirt. She only had on her boots.


She turned her back to him and straddled him. She flipped her hair, and looked over her shoulder at him. “Hope you like reverse cowgirl,” she said.

“Just take it easy,” he said, with a wink and a smile. “My cowgirl.”

She laughed. His cowgirl? She kind of liked the sound of that.

Dawn reached between her legs, and took him by the cock. She stroked him a few times, to make sure he was ready. Then she held him straight up and sat on top of him. Taking his advice, she took it easy. One slow, excruciating inch at a time. Nate held onto her ass as if to push her down even harder. She denied him any quick satisfaction.

Once he was balls deep, Dawn rotated her hips about, grinding on him slowly. She loved the way he felt inside her. Just the right size. Exactly the right amount of pressure at the exact spot. Not enough to put her over the edge. But enough to make it feel good.

She gripped his thighs as she rode him. One touch to her clit, and she’d be there. Just like she denied him, she also denied herself.

For sure, she’d be late to work at the tavern. But Dawn no longer cared. The drunkards could wait. She’d already waited too long for Nate to come back into her life.

He started bucking underneath her, like a wild horse yet to be tamed. He pushed in deep as he could, and wiggled his hips about. Dawn kept one hand on his thigh, the other pressed to his chest, to try to better control him. But he was uncontrollable. Good thing she liked a challenge, whether man or horse.

So, to further deny him, Dawn stopped. Kept him inside her, but made him do all the dirty work. To her joy, he didn’t seem to mind.

Dawn rubbed her clit while he fucked her. As if her finger had a mind of its own, she rubbed until she nearly found the edge. Her heart thundered against her ribcage. So close. She pulled her fingers away from her sweet spot.

She ran her fingers through her hair, for something to do besides touch herself. Her hand smelled of pussy.

And then Nate reached around her waist with both arms. With one hand, he fondled a breast and pulled her onto his stomach. With the other, he found her clit.

Just like she imagined him doing in her fantasy.

His body heat radiated up into her back. She was a hot mess, with hair everywhere and sweat pouring as if she were working hard. The sun shone down, heating her skin further. Dawn let out a scream.

Nate rubbed her clit faster. He tried to fuck faster too, but it didn’t matter. Her orgasm rocked her from head to toe. Her pussy clenched his cock, and then spat him out in a gush.

Dawn laid there on top of him for a long moment, luxuriating in the ecstasy. She could barely move. He held her close, but didn’t enter again. She could feel the tip of his cock, still hard and with the tip just barely pressed inside.

She sat up. With both hands wrapped around him, she stroked him. He was wet with her fluids. Nate squirmed underneath her, not really putting up a fight anymore.

When he came for her, he exploded.

One long stream after another, until she didn’t think he’d stop. He coated her blanket, and got more than enough on her legs and hands.

Finally, she turned back around to face him, and fell into his arms. They kissed, but this time the kissing was lazy. Everything had already been taken out of Dawn, she couldn’t give him much more.

Maybe after a nap. Or perhaps after lunch.

She rolled off of him. “Wish we could stay here all day.”

“Until sunset? And then do it again?” he said, stroking her hair. He laughed. “But duty calls. I’m sure we can arrange something.”

“What do you have in mind?” Dawn said.

“I have tonight in mind. In my hotel room at the Days Inn.”

Dawn kissed him again. “I’ll bring take-out.”

They both got dressed quickly. The local drunks weren’t going to be happy with Dawn being late to work. But they’d have to be cool it.

She’d found happiness again, in the place she’d always gone to for happiness.


Thank you for reading! If you would like to purchase this story, you can find it at your favorite retailer. Or feel free to leave a tip with the PayPal button below.

Sunday Quickie: No Shame in the Jacuzzi

No Shame in the Jacuzzi

I met Elisa at the gym where I workout, about six months back. We were instant friends, and she’s been coaching and cheering me on ever since. I’ve slimmed down a lot. I’m a hell of a lot stronger too.

Elisa is a slim and strong bombshell to begin with. Her arms are firm with well defined muscles. She has a set of legs that any younger woman would be jealous of. And her abs, admittedly, make me a little wet whenever she wears a sports bra. Unlike my giant ridiculous boobs, Elisa has small teacup sized breasts and, though I’d never seen them, they sure looked perky and firm.

Also unlike me, she has enough self-confidence for two women. You can see it in her posture and the way she casually flips her shoulder length brown hair into a ponytail. I love that about her.

Oh, and she loves other women.

So when Elisa invited me to her house to celebrate my weight loss, from the sparkle in her eyes I knew she had more than a nice dinner in mind.

I was more than fine with her unstated intentions. I happen to like other women too. I also happened to be infatuated with my workout partner.

But when Elisa told me to bring a bathing suit, I was nervous. Scared shitless, actually. I hadn’t worn anything skimpier than tights and a knee-length sweater for much of my adult life. The one-piece suit I’d bought the year before, a sort of perk to lose weight, now fit just fine. That didn’t help my confidence, oddly.

Dinner was wonderful. Chicken salad with quinoa and a lot of colorful peppers, mushrooms, and greens. For dessert, Elisa made chocolate pudding that was to die for.

And then she opened a bottle of blackberry wine. Once we were both properly buzzed, she patted me on the knee and asked if I wanted to soak in the jacuzzi.

I certainly didn’t want to disappoint her. So I said yes, but she caught the hesitation in my voice. I saw the pained look on her face, the way her brows tightened together, the little smile she gave me. But I decided to be brave, to be confident like my friend. I was going to wear the one-piece, gods-fucking-damned-it.

Elisa showed me to master bathroom and gave me a towel. And then she grabbed a towel for herself and a skimpy blue bikini that was practically made of strings, and gave me some privacy. I barely looked in the mirror while I changed. All I saw where stretch marks, my fat hips, and sagging breasts.

I slipped into my bathing suit and wrapped a towel around my torso. I met Elisa in her backyard, where the jacuzzi was. She had a fenced in yard, shaded by massive elm trees, and mostly filled with a vegetable garden and a few strips of trimmed grass.

She was heating up the water, testing it by dipping a hand in. I admired her from behind for a little while. Elisa seemed so vulnerable in her tiny bikini, and yet so powerful. Like some kind of super-heroine who stripped off her regular clothes and became a crime fighting babe, and here she was on her off-hours.

I giggled at the thought, which got her attention.

Elisa turned her head, and smiled at me. The water was already bubbling and looked so inviting. She stepped one leg, then the other into the jacuzzi. I approached. If I could drop the towel fast enough and shimmy in, she wouldn’t see my fat ass.

But I wasn’t nearly fast enough. Elisa was already leaning back, arms stretched out to either side. She stared at me. I stared at her, clutching my towel like it was the last shred of clothing on my body.

Elisa stood up, water dripping down her sexy body. Then she grabbed the towel right above my breasts. She yanked it off, snagging my bathing suit along for the ride. The elastic in my suit snapped back on my chest, the towel fell around my feet.

“Janice,” she said. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You are beautiful and incredibly sexy the way you are.”

“Do you really think so?” I said.

“I know so, baby.” Elisa sat back down in the jacuzzi and lifted the bottle of wine which was nearby. It looked a lot emptier than I thought it should be. “Now get your sweet ass in here before I polish off this wine.”

The alcohol might’ve been doing some of her talking. Hell, maybe some of her seeing too. But clearly Elisa had planned this. The delicious dinner. The jacuzzi. The wine. I could’ve cried a little, standing there watching the most beautiful woman on Earth pamper me.

Instead, I stepped into the jacuzzi.

The water was lovely and hot. And when Elisa handed me a glass of wine and put her around my shoulders, I felt so safe and protected. No women had ever made me feel quite this way. Like I was made to snuggle into her arms. The sensation was better than sexy. It was magnificent.

We clinked glasses and toasted our health. Elisa has this way of relaxing me. Add the jacuzzi water, and I was melting in her embrace.

The wine started doing its magic on me, making me brave enough to snuggle her neck. I kissed her collarbone, just to be playful. And if she didn’t really like it, I’d just say I was being playful and leave it at that.

Instead, she cupped my face with one hand and kissed me on the mouth. A slow, sexy kiss. When she tried to end it, I sank my tongue between her lips and continued it. And then we played tongue tag. My heart skipped a beat.

I grabbed one of her breasts. Sure enough, she was perky and firm. And already nipping. I slipped my hand underneath her bikini top. Her skin was unbelievably smooth. I rubbed every inch of her boob, savoring the texture, and then I twisted her nipple.

And then Elisa spread my thighs apart, and scratched her fingernails up the inside of my leg. All the way to my pussy. Whatever confidence issues I’d been having, seemed kind of far off now. Like somebody else’s problem. I was with the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, and her fingers were pulling aside my swimsuit to slip a fingertip inside me.

I had a moment of indecision though.

“Why did you ask me to bring this damn swimsuit?” I asked.

Elisa smiled. “So you’d have a way out if you didn’t want to make out with me.”

I tugged at my shoulder straps. She sat back, enjoying the private striptease. I rubbed my breasts against her, not quite ready to pull them out for her.

And then she took hold of the straps and pulled my swimsuit down. My boobs fell out, big milky white jugs. I never cared for them. Elisa bent down and took a nipple into her mouth.

And bit.

I sucked in a quick breath. My nipples were already erect and taut. She continued sucking and licking on me, making slow work of each, making sure she tasted every inch of me. What Elisa didn’t know, is I can orgasm from just boob play. Not a big one, like having my pussy eaten out. But a nice electric warmth that starts in my nipples and spreads throughout my body. I threw my head back and screamed.

Elisa stared at me while I came down from my high. She seemed befuddled that she gave me an orgasm already.

While she was still processing that, I attacked her. That cute little string bikini didn’t stand a chance. I ripped the top off with my newfound strength. I laid waste to her pink nipples. I stripped the bottom off and let it float on the surface of the water.

Then I shoved my fingers into her pussy, while rubbing her clit with my thumb. She was ready for me. Already wet, legs spread apart. She pulled my suit off, with a little help from me. And then she fingered me.

The water seemed to get even hotter. She had a cute moan. She begged me to keep going. To not stop. She kept pace with my finger fucking.

And then we came together. Synchronised coming.

Afterwards, we just sat next to each other, holding one another. I kept thanking her, over and over. For everything. Elisa kissed me, over and over on the neck.

“You are the most beautiful woman to me,” she whispered in my ear.

I melted, and held her even tighter.

A year later, we still workout together. And once a week, we extend the workout to bedroom fun.

I’ve never felt better about myself. Elisa makes me feel slim and strong. And she is that much sexier for how she makes me feel.


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Humpday Story: The Life of Candy


Date night. The perfect man. The perfect outfit. Terrible restaurant.

Candice just wants a fun night out with Brad. He holds doors open for her, touches her gently on the elbow, and pays for the dates. But at Abby’s Restaurant, where the tilapia tastes oddly like cod and wine is served in plastic cups, Candy longs for more with Brad. Much more?

What will it take? A little candy, some condoms, and the age old question: “Your place or mine?”

If you enjoy sexy humorous erotica, be sure to read The Life of Candy.


Something sweet

“That’s the story of my life,” she said. It wasn’t entirely true, but tonight, in this restaurant, with this man, it certainly felt true enough.

Candice sipped at the Pinot Noir served in a chipped plastic wine glass. She would’ve preferred a Merlot, but the waiter—a short, good natured but completely oblivious man who clearly only worked here for college money—insisted they no longer had anything but Pinot, and one that tasted like bitter sugar water.

So she leaned back in the squeaky wood chair. The cushion was flat from a thousand asses sitting in it, and the armrests felt sticky. She dared not look under the table, for fear of whatever it was she’d kicked around throughout the date.

The lighting was low, presumably for atmosphere, or mood, or some such thing. But in reality, it was probably to make the salmon pink wallpaper less repulsive.

Two different sets of music competed with each other. Light modern pop playing from the loud speaker directly above their table. And the heavy thump-thump-thump of a cover band playing in the sports bar next door. They were trying their best on “Heart Shaped Box,” and sounded more like a hornets’ nest amplified a thousand-fold.

Presumably, Abby’s was a nice restaurant, at least according to people who maybe hadn’t actually eaten there in the last decade or so. The tilapia tasted oddly like cod, and the baked potatoes were shriveled little bastards. The only good part of the meal was the breadsticks, which were buttery and garlicky, and practically melted in Candy’s mouth. Thankfully, the waiter dude kept bringing those out in large baskets, six sticks at a time. Candy caught the guy eating a few himself, while he thought nobody was looking.

The other good thing about this date was Brad, the man sitting across from her. This was date number three, and he was still acting like a perfect gentleman. Opening doors for her, touching her gently on the elbow while riding the escalators in the mall, and he paid for the entire dates.

Also, he still hadn’t made any moves, beyond sweet good night kisses and hugs. Candy worried that he was secretly gay, or hiding something. Like psychotic tendencies. Or a small penis.

But that was crazy thinking. He was just a nice guy, who wasn’t in a rush to lift her skirt.

Even though she wore the shortest skirt she owned. The tight stretchy black one, with the slit that revealed one well muscled thigh. She wore six inch strappy black heels, which made her legs feel even longer, and made her the same height as Brad. Her gauzy purple blouse revealed more cleavage than she was used to revealing. And with a little help from her bra, her boobs seemed bigger than they had a right to be.

Brad was the tall, dark, and handsome type, in that order. His hair was long enough to be curly in the back. A permanent five o’clock shadow covered his face, which tickled Candy every time he kissed her.

He wore jeans and a black polo shirt, with shiny black dress shoes. Always relaxed, leaning back in his chair, as if his body were made for his clothes, and not the other way around.

He’d given up drinking the Pinot.

But he laughed at all of Candy’s lame jokes, and made more than a few gut ripping punch lines himself.

“Come on, now,” he said. “That’s can’t be entirely true. Can it?”

“It is,” Candy said. “That really is the story of my life.”

And then they both laughed, and reached for the same breadstick at the same time, which caused even more laughter.

She couldn’t even properly remember what brought on this exact conversation. What the fuck was the story of her life? Ending up on good dates in bad places? Having fun where shouldn’t be any fun?

All three of her dates with Brad should’ve been disasters. The first one was just a normal dinner and a movie date. But the restaurant he’d made reservations for just got closed down that afternoon after a health inspection, and then the movie theater was so full that they waited two hours and were turned away when the tickets were sold out. Instead, Brad and Candy walked along the waterfront, holding hands and throwing pennies into the river.

The second date was supposed to be bowling night, but they had the bad luck of going during the senior citizens’ league night. Every old geezer hit on Candy, including some of the older women.

And then dinner at Abby’s.

Earlier in the week Candy had decided, almost subconsciously, to make a contingency plan, just in case Brad chickened out. The plan involved a bag of Skittles, a TV marathon to catch up on the current crime dramas, and a fresh bottle of lube for her vibrator.

Luckily, Brad didn’t chicken out.

He was a good sport. He pushed the breadstick basket over to her. Candy split the stick in half, took one half, and shoved the other back towards him.

Then they clinked plastic wine glasses in toast.

“Almost hate to ask what you want to do next,” said Brad. “You know, given how your life story seems to be.”

“Hey, now,” Candy said. “It’s not all bad. Mostly the bad stuff happens when I go out.”

“Really? I’ve had a wonderful time.”

“Kiss ass.” Candy chewed on some breadstick. It wasn’t as good as it was earlier. Less hot, not as garlicky. Brad seemed to agree, he put his down after one bite.

“So,” he said. “If the bad luck only happens when you go out, maybe we should stay in?”

Now that was an idea. Candy had thought of that several times during the week leading up to her hot date. Well, to be honest, she mostly thought about that while using her vibrator. Which was why she needed a new bottle of lube.

Candy winked. “Your place or mine?”

Brad scratched the stubble on his chin and raised one eyebrow, which made her laugh. “My place has room mates,” he said. “And they have girlfriends who might be having the same idea.”

“Which idea is that?”

“The idea you’re having, of course.” He winked.

And then, Candy let the silence turn awkward. She let it hang there for a moment longer than necessary. Brad squirmed. He shifted in his chair, and looked down at his half eaten breadstick.

Candy burst out laughing. She winked at him. The hard edge—that oops, what-did-I-do-wrong look in his face—softened, and he laughed too.

“My place,” Candy said at last. For good measure, she picked up the breadstick and kissed the tip softly. “Unless you’re not having the same idea.”

He squirmed again, this time in a more playful way. As if he were adjusting his equipment inside his pants. “I’m having some wonderful ideas,” he said.

“Good,” she said.

Brad got his wallet out. She reached across the table and smacked his hand.

“I’m paying this time,” Candy said. “You go to my place, you play by my rules.”

“Okay,” said Brad. “Any other rules I should know about?”

Candy smiled. She got out her credit card and tapped it on the table. “Nobody gets hurt. Ask permission for anything weird. Listen to instruction. Think you can handle that?”

He placed a hand on his chest. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Candy handed the card to the waiter dude. “By the way, the rules are more like guidelines. But the listening thing is rather important.”

“As long as it goes both ways,” he said.

“Yes!” she said. “But really. My vibrator is an excellent listener. Just so you know how you’re being judged.”

“Duly noted.”

She paid. Then they left hand in hand. Candy couldn’t keep her eyes off him.

Then, at her car, he kissed her. She gave him her address and promised to meet him there.

The drive home was far too long. She could barely drive straight, her hands shook so hard.

Something naughty

She didn’t even make it home.

Brad texted her along the way. “Need condoms,” he wrote. She noticed him pull into a convenience store at the corner. She turned around and parked her car next to his.

He seemed pleasantly surprised when he noticed her walk through the door.

“Not a lot of selection,” he said, shaking his head. “Hope ribbed is okay with you.”

“Fine by me,” she leaned against him, and kissed him. The tip of her left breast poked at his arm.

Brad turned a little, rubbing her nipple with his arm very slowly. Then he casually flicked a finger across her breast. Just a light touch, as if he didn’t even do it at all.

“How much further to your place?” he said. “I don’t know if I can stand the wait much longer.”

“Well don’t explode before we get there,” she said. “I’d hate to clean up after you here.”

An elderly couple appeared at the end of the aisle. The old man shook his head and walked the other way. The old woman winked knowingly and chased off after her husband.

“Think that was a tad obvious?” Brad whispered.

Candy pressed her thumb and forefinger together. She whispered back, “Just a tad.”

They both laughed. This really was Candy’s luck. But at least it wasn’t all bad luck. Strange luck, more like it.

An idea popped into her brain. She suddenly wanted to test her luck. Good or bad, this was going to be fun. She grabbed Brad by the arm and led him to the back of the store, to the women’s bathroom.

“Wait,” Brad said. She didn’t wait. He turned a cute shade of pink around his ears. “Where are we going?”

She didn’t give him the benefit of an answer. She peeped a quick glance over her shoulder and stepped inside.

“Hello,” she said. When nobody responded, Candy dragged Brad inside. And then she pushed him inside the handicap stall and locked the door behind her.

“Can’t say I saw this coming,” he said.

She squatted down on her haunches in front of him. “Do you approve?”

“No,” he said.

“Oh. Sorry.” Well, that was disappointing. She stood up, trying not to let the disappointment show too obviously on her face. Her luck certainly ran out this time.

She turned to unlock the stall door. But he grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around.

“I didn’t say I completely disapprove,” he said. “I just don’t completely approve of you going down on me here.”

“We can finish this at my place,” she said. “If you’re still interested, of course.”

And then he squatted down in front of her, hands on her pelvis. “Oh, we’ll finish at your place. But while we’re in the ladies’ room, it will be ladies first.”

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, my.”

He lifted her skirt up and pulled her panties down in two swift motions. The air in the bathroom was a bit colder than she expected. Didn’t help that her pussy was clean shaved. Usually she let it grow out, and maybe trimmed it now and then to keep the stink down.

But before the date tonight, Candy had been feeling frisky. She was now glad she spent the time to shave herself.

He rubbed his fingers across her bare thighs. And then closer to her pussy. Two fingers on her lips, and spread her apart for a moment. The motion was mechanical, not quite what she wanted, but he was attentive to her reactions.

“Too soon for this?” he said.

She shrugged one shoulder. “I want it. But yeah, this idea might’ve fizzled.”

“How can we unfizzle it?” he said. “Is that even a word?”

Candy snorted. “Sure. It is now.”

She rubbed her clit with one finger, slowly, as if she were masturbating at home. Still wasn’t doing anything for her. Not yet. Usually a porno and a toy would do the trick. When she was by herself. But she certainly wasn’t this time.

Brad kissed her thigh, and then stood up. Hands around her waist, he pulled her in for a kiss on the lips. A slow, sensual kiss, with slow tongue movement. He pressed her against the stall door, making the walls rattle. He tugged at her blouse, as if wanting to expose her breasts. She wanted him to. Hoped he would. He even found her bra strap, and tugged it down.

Then he kissed her shoulder, and set the bra strap back where it belonged. That little act of denial made Candy’s skin tingle with heat. She flicked her clit faster.

Brad skimmed his lips down her chest, and lingered between her cleavage. His warm breath against her skin felt good. Felt right, as if his head were made to lay between her breasts like.

He squeezed each one, and then licked them both. So very close to her nipples. If he just pulled down her blouse and her bra, he would’ve had them in his mouth. Instead, he inhaled her, and then got down between her legs again. He carefully stuck his tongue out and tasted her pussy.

She was surprised how wonderful that small touch felt. Not earth shaking, by any means. But sweet. Tender.

Then he pressed his mouth onto her pussy and licked her from clit to just below the anus.

Candy pressed her hands on both sides of her face. The bathroom started to smell musky, like wet pussy. He kept massaging her with his tongue, as if licking ice cream. By now he should’ve had a brain freeze. She imagined how light headed he must feel. He gripped both of her thighs to steady himself.

And then, while he massaged her clit with his tongue, he slipped the tip of one finger inside her. The way he slowly ate her drove Candy crazy. Now she couldn’t wait to get to her place, for fear of exploding in the middle of a public place. Instead of cleaning up after him, he’d be cleaning up after her.

And when he slipped more than the tip of his finger in, she almost lost it.

Candy clamped a hand over her mouth. The scream was there, just below the surface, not quite ready to come out. But she wanted to scream.

She imagined a whole lot of people rushing into the bathroom, rushing to aid a screaming woman. And turns out she was screaming in orgasm.

She snorted back a laugh.

Brad pulled away. Her pussy felt cold without his tongue or finger inside her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. She cupped the back of his head and gently forced him back down on her.

He obliged willingly. He continued nibbling at her and fingering her, but more carefully this time, as if she were fragile. She leaned her head against the wall, wishing he’d do what he’d been doing before her snort.

Absent mindedly, Candy pressed a finger against her clit and rubbed while he finger fucked her. She closed her eyes, half aware of what she was doing. Yeah, it wasn’t his doing, but it felt good.

And then he hit her G-spot, right on, and curled his finger against it. Her toes curled and she suppressed another scream.

And then she rubbed herself in the just right way. His finger inside her and her own finger doing some well practiced magic on herself, that combination sent her over the edge.

Her knees buckled, and if he hadn’t been holding her legs upright, she’d have fallen over.

Once she regained her balance, Brad stood up and held her for a moment.

“There’s a lot more I’d like to try with you,” he said, and then kissed her on the mouth. He smelled of her. Kind of a sweet, musty smell. That odor probably wasn’t leaving the bathroom for awhile.

“Oh? Is that so, mister?” she winked at him. And then she pushed him away. “Perhaps we find some place more cozy for what you have in mind?”

“Like your place? Like we meant to do.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

He helped her pull her panties back up, his fingers not quite helping, and ended up bunching her panties in a wad that rode her pussy lips. She straightened her skirt. Not like it mattered. With any more luck, she’d be out of these clothes soon anyway.

That was the plan for sure.

Something unexpected

She was home at least, but that plan still hadn’t come to fruition.

Sure, Brad had Candy pressed up against the wall, kissing her, both hands squeezing her boobs. She slid her fingers down his waist and tugged on his belt. Then tugged on something else just below the belt.

But the part of the plan about being out of her crooked clothing was coming about too slowly for her tastes.

She even said so, rather sloppily around kissing.

“Huh?” said Brad.

“Let’s find somewhere more comfortable,” she said.

He eagerly agreed and followed her upstairs to the bedroom. She’d left the bed-side light on earlier, which cast a yellow glow. She tossed her purse on the TV stand, next to the bag of Skittles, her contingency plan that thankfully she didn’t need anymore.

“Taste the rainbow,” Brad picked up the candy bag.

“Knock yourself out,” Candy said. “Though I’d hope you’d make a better decision by this point in the night.”

“Let’s see,” he said. “Which candy do I really want? Real conundrum here.”

“Hey now!” She slapped him on the arm and moved to the bed to pull the sheets down. She was impressed he was able to use the word conundrum. Especially after being as worked up as he was.

She started to kick off her high heels, and thought otherwise. When was the last time she wore heels to bed? Sounded like a fun idea. She sat her ass on the side of the bed, and waited for Brad to decide on how to solve his conundrum.

He opened the box of condoms, and tossed one to the bed. Then he opened the candy and brought himself to bed.

“Having a little of both?” Candy said.

“Why the fuck not?” he said, and winked. He tossed a candy into his mouth.

And then he unzipped her skirt and pulled it and her panties to the floor. She took off her blouse, but left her bra on. She wanted him to decide on that one.

She helped him out of his polo shirt and jeans. He kicked his shoes to the side, and had the decency to take off his socks.

Clearly he worked out at the gym. Not big muscles, but he was well chiseled and formed. And the bulge in his boxers looked well formed too.

He pushed her down onto the mattress.

Before he could do anything else, she flipped over on her stomach.

“I think I owe you,” she said.

“Is that so?” He didn’t waste any time slipping off his boxers and getting in front of her face. He was long, much longer than she would’ve normally preferred. But she wasn’t telling him that. Plus he was thick, which mattered more to her. He was cleanly shaved, except for a little patch of dark hair above the shaft.

Candy tugged on his balls, and then stroked his member. He waited patiently, on his knees in front of her, arms behind his back, not forcing himself, letting her take the lead.

She gripped him by the girth, and tugged him closer. He scooted an inch. Close enough for her to taste his tip and scratch her fingernails down his shaft. She took him in a little bit at a time. His breathing became panting.

He stroked her hair back and she swallowed him deeper yet. Not balls deep. She didn’t have that kind of talent.

And thankfully, he didn’t force her to deepthroat. Likely she would’ve gagged. And that just wasn’t sexy.

And then he shifted a little to the side, and she heard the rustle of plastic. She spat him out and looked up. He popped a Skittle into his mouth.

“Want one?” he said, and offered her the bag.

She burst out laughing. Even spat a little on his cock on accident. “Seriously, dude?”

“I take all my pleasures seriously,” he said, a wry grin on his sexy lips.

She took a candy and ate it, trying to chew it slowly. The effect wasn’t as seductive as she hoped, and she burst out laughing again.

He laughed with her.

“Sorry,” she said, when she finally settled down a little.

He shrugged. “What for? I’m having a wonderful time.”

“Good,” she said, and grabbed hold of his cock to bring him back to her.

The after-taste of the candy made him taste sugary. She thought about lines in bad erotica novels, about cocks that taste sweet like sugar or strawberries, and she suppressed another laugh. Brad responded with a guarded chuckle of his own, as if he wasn’t sure what to think of her latest outburst.

And then she finally got serious about sucking his cock.

She couldn’t fit him inside her mouth, so instead she licked him down the shaft. First one way, then the other way back up. She wrapped her lips around his head, and flicked him with her tongue. And then back down again, leaving a sloppy mess to his sack. She sucked in one ball, then the other.

A soft moan from him told her to keep doing just that. She massaged his balls with her tongue while tugging on his cock, making him harder. He throbbed under her touch, which just made her even more hungry for him.

She held nothing back. She covered him with her saliva. He panted, hunched over, massaging her shoulders and begging her not to stop.

And then she tasted a hint of salty with the sweet. She pulled back, and a long string of precum attached itself to her mouth from the tip of his cock. She touched the tip and lifted the string onto her finger. And then she licked her finger tip and swallowed.

She dove right back for more, almost taking him in entirely. An inch short. And she tried for more. She gagged, spit on him, and tried again.

He pushed her away.

“Hold on,” he said.

“To what?” she said.

“Your ass,” he said, and reached for the condom. He unwrapped it, and slipped it on.

“I’d rather hold onto other things.” She pushed him down on his back and straddled him. The expression on his face was priceless. He must’ve thought he’d be in charge at this point. He didn’t object. He certainly didn’t say no.

Candy slipped his tip inside her. Only the tip at first. That was all she could handle. She wiggled her hips, putting those belly dancing classes from long ago to good use. Slowly, she spread open for him. Even more slowly, she took in more of him. He massaged her sides and tugged at her bra straps.

And then, she had him balls deep. She felt so full, so stretched out. Amazing.

She rocked back and forth on him, as if riding a slow moving bull. She pressed her hands on his firm chest, squeezing his pec muscles. He played with her ass. To her surprise and delight, he pressed the tip of one finger into her bum, which made her feel all the more filled.

Somewhere along the way, her bra straps slipped down her shoulders. Her hair felt sweaty and sticky. It seemed like somebody turned up the room temperature by ten degrees, her skin felt so hot.

And then she rode him faster. Her world narrowed down to only him and the bed and the crazy good sensations coursing through her body. Her heart pumped overtime. The sounds of skin slapping against skin might’ve been coming from another room, made by some other couple doing far nastier things to each other.

She really wanted her bra off. But apparently, he didn’t. And she was too busy fucking his brains out to bother with a clasp.

He renewed his fingering effort on her ass. And then he added a finger on her clit. Right when he did so, Candy let out the loudest scream she had ever heard come from her mouth.

And then she orgasmed on top of Brad.

She collapsed onto his arms. He held her, and inch by inch he slid out of her. She let out her breath when he was finally all the way out.

He rolled her over onto her back and straddled her.

To her shock, he reached for the bag of candy.

“You’re still hard,” she said.

“Not for long,” he winked, eating a candy. And then dropping a few between her breasts.

She laughed and called him a dork.

Brad smiled so cutely when he pulled off his condom and tossed it aside. He didn’t stop smiling while he jerked himself in front of her. Candy pressed her boobs together. He slipped his cock between them.

And then he titty fucked her.

Any other man, Candy might’ve found the experience boring. What would be the point? But after the orgasm he gave her, she couldn’t deny him whatever he wanted. He made sexy grunting sounds while he jabbed his hips at her. Her entire body rocked with his motion. The bed squeaked. The headboard rattled.

He jerked himself a few times. He squeezed his thighs around her. And then stream after stream of sticky white come sprayed out of his cock. Candy didn’t think it would ever stop.

When it finally did, he bent down and licked his mess up. He couldn’t get it all, there was so much sprayed all over her.

He laid his head down between her breasts.

“When’s the next date night?” Candy asked.

“Who said tonight’s date was over?” he said, sounding as if half asleep.

Sounded like she needed to bang him again, before she missed her next opportunity. That would be the story of her life.

But she could afford to let him rest for a bit.


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