include_once("common_lab_header.php");
Excerpt for Erotic Tales by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

This page may contain adult content. If you are under age 18, or you arrived by accident, please do not read further.

Erotic Tales

Maria Zerva

Copyright 2019 Maria Zerva

Smashwords Edition


License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied, and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to your favorite ebook retailer to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.


Table of Contents


Taxi Ride to Heaven

Good Grades

Best Friends

Escapism

Club of Deviant Dreams

Marlene’s Night out

Dangerous Woods

Gold-digger’s Punishment

Good Wife

Lodger’s Delight

Bedroom of a Salesman

Movie Night

Riparian Affair

Moonshine Dancer

Plane Ride to Heaven

Bookworm’s Dream

Tale of a bored housewife

The Long Cock of the Law

A Walk through the Park

A Blessing in Disguise

Sex on the Beach

Everything for her Son

Underpass at Night

Mountainous Terror

About Maria Zerva

Contact Maria Zerva

The Heiress and the Barfly First Two Chapters

Taxi Ride to Heaven


Her 25-year high school reunion did not go as Marina had envisioned. Of course, she had also set the bar pretty damn high; she had hoped to impress her classmates with her still firm body, her youthful looks, her social status—admittedly acquired via her husband, who owned a supermarket chain.

However, no one paid too much attention to her: David—her high school boyfriend, who was now happily married with three children—didn’t; Mira—her best friend, with whom she’d gotten drunk and stupid way too many times—didn’t; Jarred—who always had a crush on her—didn’t.

Was it out of jealousy? Did they purposefully ignore her, because they were jealous of her success, of her status and social position? Naturally, everyone lies in such occasions and Marina did too; she bragged about her son being a straight-A student, but, she didn’t mention he’d come home drunk out of his mind every weekend, nor that she had discovered a bag of pot and several pills in his drawer.

She didn’t mention, either, her suspicions that Fred, her husband, was cheating on her with his secretary; nor did she say anything about the sexless nature of their marriage.

She was certain everyone had lied about certain facts, or, perhaps, simply concealed certain aspects of their lives; she spent the night hearing about how all her old friends and classmates thrived, about their good positions in companies, their thriving businesses, their overachieving children.

She pulled her short skirt down; wearing knee-high boots, a tight leather mini-skirt, and a midriff-exposing top with a deep cleavage was, perhaps, not the best choice for an outfit. On the other hand, she had wanted to show her body off to everyone, to show that she still looked as athletic and hot as she did back in high school.

Could that have been why she was shunned throughout the evening? Jealousy over her having maintained her figure, while everyone else had taken up a few extra pounds? She had noticed everyone’s guts, relaxed muscles, the baldness in the men, the wrinkles and goosefeet in the women.

A heavy sigh escaped her mouth, as she moved her glance away from the window and the speeding buildings and toward the cab driver; a young, black man wearing a plain white shirt, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

And yet, it was with pure satisfaction she noticed him stealing glimpses on the rearview mirror; she pulled her skirt up and her smile widened, when he gave his nose a quick rub, suddenly abandoning his thitherto rigid stature.

Satisfied, Marina uncrossed her legs, letting her skirt lift even higher; she might have failed to impress her old classmates, but, at the least, she still had it. The driver cleared his throat and checked all his mirrors, then looked about, as he took the turn the GPS instructed him.

Driving away from the main avenue, cruising along the darker small streets leading to her home, Marina caressed her chest softly, checking on the driver with the corner of her eye.

“We’re here, ma’am,” he said, when he parked outside the house in the sparsely populated neighborhood.

“That was a quick ride,” she said with a smile and leaned forth deeply to hand him the fare.

“Not much traffic at this time of night, ma’am,” he offered her a wide smile, which exposed his bright white teeth.

Tell me about it,” she chuckled. “There’s no one around here, you know. You hardly ever see anyone.”

“It’s a great neighborhood, though,” he said. “Green, quiet…”

Sometimes, too quiet,” she winked.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “have a good night, ma’am. I…”

You know,” she said with a wide grin, “if you aren’t in a hurry, we could…there’s a small parking lot around the corner, we could go there to…talk? I’m bored and I don’t feel like going to bed yet.”

“I’m not sure it’d be…appropriate, ma’am,” the man looked away. “I mean…”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she giggled. “If you’re worried about your next fare, I’ll compensate you…it’ll be worth your while.”

“No, that’s not…ma’am, I just don’t think it proper, for us to…”

Oh, leave your proper out of it, will you? The question is,” she continued, agitated, “if you want to keep me some company in these late night hours…”

“I…” he swallowed down loudly. “Yes, of course,” he then said, when she blatantly lowered her blouse, revealing her lack of a bra.

“Magnificent,” she smiled and leaned back on the seat, keeping her legs spread. “Just drive around the corner, you’ll see the lot. It’s not even a proper parking lot, just…an open space.

Very discreet and quiet,” she gave him a meaningful wink and he ignited the engine, driving slowly around Marina’s three-story home.

“Here we are,” she pointed at the empty lot and he drove in, parking at the remotest from the street corner.

So,” he cleared his throat, “what would you like to…oh,” he gasped, when she thrust her hand inside his pants, taking his soft, thick prick in her hand. “Not very subtle, are we?”

“Fuck subtlety,” she moaned, as she stroked blood into his rapidly growing tool.

“Yeah, I guess you’re…right…” His moans grew heavier.

Marina slithered to the front seat and unbuttoned his jeans; she yanked them down and his rock-hard cock stood tall in all its glory.

Damn,” she chuckled, softly pulling the foreskin down, “that’s definitely the biggest I’ve ever…had no idea they actually came in these sizes!”

“Yeah, I’m…” He groaned, when she wrapped her lips around his thick head, her soft, warm tongue gently swirling about the sensitive tip. “You really don’t waste any time!” He exclaimed.

“What’s the point?” She lifted her eyes, meeting his, while running her full lips across his length. “I just wanted some cock tonight; why waste time with pleasantries and subtle flirting?”

An aggressive woman that knows what she wants,” he said to himself, astounded. “I sure like it!” He told her and established a firm grip around her hair. “Let me guess,” he said, quickly finding his courage and audacity, “you also think you want it rough, huh?”

Nope,” she shook her head with a wide smirk. “I know I want it rough, baby.”

I sure hope you’ll remember that, when I’m done with you!”

You know—” she squeezed his balls hard, smiling at his sudden squirming “—I’ve heard many a men bragging about their prowess, yet, I’ve never not been disappointed.”

“Why don’t you—” he pushed her head down on his prick, forcing his length deep down her throat “—just quit yapping and swallow my fucking dick?”

His thick shaft glided along her lips, stuffing her mouth and throat; she drooled over his massive prick, as he slammed the back of her throat, guiding her head viciously up and down his cock.

She gagged on his massive prick; his rough hand pulled her skirt up above her waist and his fingers caressed her asscrack, causing goosebumps on her skin.

I sure love sluts like you,” he grinned. “No underwear, always on the lookout for some big black cock…come on, suck it better, bitch!” He slammed her head all the way down to his prick, burying her nose in his trimmed crotch.

Overwhelmed, Marina drew short, whistling breaths and squirmed and slapped his thighs. He pulled her up by the hair, and she heaved.

She looked dead into his eyes with her watery gaze and offered him a wide smile.

That’s a good girl.” He twisted her hair and guffawed, when she let out a loud, painful scream. “You wanted the rough treatment, remember?” He winked, then pushed her back down on his drenched in drool cock, driving it balls deep down her throat.

She writhed, when his sausage-like fingers came in contact with her already wet pussy; he rubbed her slit and slapped her cunt hard, sending thunderous jolts of mind-numbing pleasure across her body.

Holding her head down in his crotch, he swayed his lower back, drilling her throat harder, his moans echoing loudly inside the tight confines of the cab.

Her eyes popped wide open, when he pushed two fingers inside her, stretching her tight, untouched for several years, pussy.

Shit,” he exclaimed, as he pushed harder, fighting the resistance of her tightness, “how tiny is your husband, bitch? Or, does he just not bother fucking you any longer?”

My God,” she gasped, when he lifted her head, allowing her a moment of deep breathing. “I love your huge cock, baby, just…”

Oh,” he shrugged, “you don’t like talking about hubby, huh? All right. I was just wondering what you’ll say to him, when you go home with your holes utterly ruined by my dong.

“Never mind,” he smirked. “Get back to it, bitch!”

Her lips parted wide and she swallowed him down; gradually, it became easier as her throat stopped resisting his girth and length. Her grip around his balls tightened, when he inserted a third finger in her cunt.

Stop complaining,” he groaned. “You should be grateful I’m opening you up, you dumb slut. I could have just as well used my cock from the start; then, you’d understand what real pain is.”

It was nothing like she had envisioned it; nothing like the videos she had often watched online during lonesome mornings at home. And yet, her body was on fire and her pussy soaked.

Suddenly, he jerked her head back and instructed her to go to the backseat; obediently, and with drool still dripping down her chin, she crawled between the two front seats and a slight scream exited her mouth, when he slapped her, hard, on the ass.

Now, let’s see if you can suck cock without assistance,” he said, when he opened the door and remained standing, leaning his elbows on the cab’s roof.

On all fours on the back seat, Marina stroked his huge dong with both hands, spreading her own saliva on its smooth, dark skin.

She wrapped her lips tightly around the head, twirling her tongue; he squirmed and her lips twitched. With one hand around his balls and the other stroking the shaft, she licked his length, tasting salt.

Then, she swallowed him down once more.

“Take your clothes off, slut,” he instructed her and she immediately obeyed. “You’ve sure a fine body, slut,” he inspected her carefully, scratching his chin, as she stood outside in the cool night breeze in nothing but her boots.

A way too loud moan escaped her mouth, when his lips were on her breasts, sucking and biting; then, she looked about, in horror, wondering whether anyone had decided to go dog-walking in the middle of the night.

“All natural, huh?” He twisted her soft C-cup breasts and his lips curled, when she cried out loudly. “Love natural tits, babe. Come on, have a seat,” he pushed her back and stood between her legs, his knees bent.

She squeezed her breasts around his shaft, her mouth wide open eager to accept his head, as he grinded his prick against her sternum and breasts, groaning loudly. He grabbed his prick and slapped it hard on both her breasts, then rubbed it all over her face, smearing drool and dripping mascara all over.

Look at you,” he chuckled. “Already looking like a used up whore and we haven’t even started yet!”

She simply stared at him, aghast; the timid cab driver from few minutes before had turned into a rough man straight out of a stereotypical porn and she cherished the abrupt change.

“Turn around,” he said and swirled his finger.

Immediately, she did so, arching her lower back; she dug her nails on the leather cover of the backseat, when his tongue flapped rapidly inside her.

“Beg for it.” He slapped his prick on her slit, wiping her wetness off his chin. “Tell me how much you want it, bitch.”

“Please, fuck my tight pussy,” she said, turning her head to look at him. “I really need your black cock in my cunt.”

“I don’t buy it, slut,” he shook his head. “You’re just repeating some shit you heard on some fucking porn flick. I need passion, real intensity.” He rubbed his prick against her dripping cunt, then buried it between her asscheeks.

I need to be fucked,” she said, her voice growing sterner. “I haven’t felt a real man inside me for years, my holes are begging for a good fucking. I must get fucked by a real cock!”

“Slight improvement,” he shrugged; then, he pushed his cock against her pussy, stretching it out widely, and rather painfully.

God!” She screamed and her nails went even deeper into the seat. “Slower, please! I’m too tight for your fucking cock, you’re too fucking big, I’m…”

Now I hear some fucking passion,” he said, proudly, and took a firm grip around her waist as he buried himself inside her, her inner muscles spreading to welcome his girth.

“Jesus,” she cried. He was balls deep in her, reaching unexplored depths of her body; feeling as if she was giving birth in reverse, grinding her body against his crotch, somehow trying to accommodate his humongous prick.

“Here comes the pleasure,” he chuckled and slammed her cunt hard.

His prick tightly engulfed by her tight cunt, she couldn’t fight the screams any longer, as he pounded her rough, his balls noisily slapping against her drenched pussy. Gradually, she was stretched out just enough properly to accommodate him, yet, her grip around him was still tight and warm. And as his girth glided along her warm, wet cunt, she felt the world go blurry, finally succumbing to the euphoria flooding her mind.

“Fuck,” he groaned, as her convulsions engulfed his prick even tighter; he lowered his pace, letting her feel his length in all its glory.

She bit her skirt, upon which her head now rested, drowning the new orgasmic cries; his prick glided against her cunt in a slow, deep rhythm, only further intensifying the immense pleasure…and, suddenly, she erupted into a prolonged cry and as soon as he pulled out, she squirted all over him, unable to control the trembling of her body.

“Wow,” he said, genuinely taken aback. “I wasn’t expecting…you were really hungry for cock!”

“I still am,” she moaned, still shaking. “My pussy’s still hungry for your big black cock.”

You’ve got another hole, slut, which we shouldn’t leave unattended.”

It took a moment for the meaning of his words to register in her head; and as soon as she understood, her jaw dropped.

She opened her mouth, ready to protest, but, when he spat on her clenching asshole and rubbed it with his finger, she bit down her lips and remained perfectly still.

At first, the pain was tremendous; she bit her forearm in her desperate attempts to drown her screams. He pushed his prick deep in her, dilating her sphincters.

Gradually, he began the pounding, at first in a slow, gentle rhythm, which quickly allowed her to relax; and as his drilling continued, her ass was stretched out and the pain was replaced by an unprecedented elation.

He slapped her ass several times and the sharp pain caused her asshole to clench tight around his prick, causing her even better to feel his size; her muffled cries of pain had turned into loud moans of insane pleasure and she had forgotten she was too close to home, too close to houses where her—and her husband’s—friends lived.

Her ass was mercilessly rammed; he pulled her hair hard, as he rocked her body forth with his pounding, his balls slapping against her soaked cunt. It was her second time ever to have experienced anal sex and the first time had been rather unpleasant.

Why it felt so amazing this time around, she couldn’t tell; all she knew at the moment was that she adored every single moment of the rough sex and did not want it to end. Especially not after she came for a second time, her pussy exploding all over the backseat once more, leaving an even larger wet spot on the leather, while he continued, perfectly unfazed, to ravage her asshole.

“Turn around, bitch,” he commanded her and she did, her mouth wide open and her eyes glowing with hunger.

He stroked his prick in front of her face, slapping the head on her tongue, letting her taste herself; even that act of humiliation turned her on, as she sucked his prick clean.

Several thick loads of cum landed all over her face, few drops finding their way in her mouth, filling it with the taste of salt, and she simply took it, while rubbing her still on fire cunt.

She squeezed his head, licking off the last drops.

“Good bitch,” he said approvingly and pulled his pants up. “Now, get out of my fucking cab.”

“That was it?” She asked, befuddled.

What did you expect?” He shrugged. “You came, I came, what more is there to do? Talk?” He produced his wallet and threw some bills on the ground. “Here, it’s the fare. Now, get out,” he raised his voice and Marina, her heart banging hard against her chest, got out of the cab, limping and carrying her clothes under her arm.

“Can I see you again?” She asked, timidly. “I’d love to…”

Here’s my card.” He rolled the window down and threw a plastic card on the ground. “When you need a ride, call. It may not be me, but, I’ll make sure it’s someone that will treat you right.”

He backed out of the lot and sped down the street, quickly disappearing from her sight.

Marina picked the bills and card up and stuffed them in her purse. Then, she put a cigarette between her still covered in jism lips; she lit it and dragged long, swallowing both smoke and cum.

Butt naked, her clothes in her arm, she remained there for a moment, realizing she had been used and humiliated, exactly like she had envisioned it during her daytime wet fantasies.

Satisfied, but yearning for more, she leaned against the brick wall and smoked, suddenly wishing for a late night dog-walker to appear.

Good Grades


“Please, sit down, Mr. Anderson,” Kylie gestured at the two leather armchairs. “I imagine,” she continued, after he took a seat, “you know why I called you in my office.”

“Yes…” Rob lowered his glance.

“Very well,” she cleared her throat. “So, anything in particular I should know?”

“Not really, Mrs. Stevens, I…” he paused; “training is really intense, and…”

“Yes, Mr. Anderson, I know,” she sighed heavily. “You are not the first athlete to take my class. You thought it’d just be some easy credits, right?”

“No, of course not, I…” he protested, vainly.

“Look,” she said softly, “I get it. Your interest lies in sports, not academia. I don’t blame you, nor did I ask to see you to change your mind.”

“You’re flunking me…” Rob said somberly.

“No; not yet.” He raised his eyes hopefully and she offered him a broad, warm smile. “It’s still early in the term, Mr. Anderson; however,” she pointed her index finger at him, “you need to make some changes, if you want to pass.”

“Mrs. Stevens, I…” he cleared his throat, “what do I have to do? I mean, training, practice, and working out takes up most of my time, I don’t…”

“Mr. Anderson,” she interjected, albeit gently, “you knew from the get-go it’d be hard; that’s not an excuse.”

“Yes, I know,” he apologized. “It’s just… I can’t fail, you know? I just…”

“Why don’t you try a little harder to convince me?” She leaned back on the desk chair and crossed her—visible from the high slit of her skirt—legs high.

“I’m doing my best,” he struggled not to look at her legs, hugged by the thin, black nylon-stocking.

“Do you?” She raised her eyebrow and curled her lips. “I don’t think you’ve ever read even one of the assigned stories. Not one,” she leaned forth and put both arms on the desk, purposefully squeezing her breasts struggling to remain inside her tight shirt.

His back stiffened and he crossed his legs, trying to fix his jeans without being noticed.

Kylie did notice; her smile widened momentarily, then she leaned closer to the desk, her breasts resting on her crossed arms. She wasn’t entirely certain of what she was doing; her true intention behind calling Rob to her office remained unclear even in her own mind.

On one hand, she did want to talk to him about his grades, his effort (or lack thereof), and to help him improve and not flunk her class. On the other hand, in a classroom filled with liberal arts freshmen, mainly young girls and wannabe writer-boys that could not tell a pen and their dicks apart, Rob was the ray of sunshine penetrating the grey clouds of a rainy afternoon.

Tall, athletic, handsome, and with kind eyes, he was the one toward whom her gaze constantly moved during her lectures; and, besides, she did enjoy the way he looked at her, that lustful concentration that gave away it was not in her words he was interested.

“I’ll try harder, Mrs. Stevens,” he finally said, his lips lightly twitching. “But,” he added after a long pause, “I might need some help. I just don’t understand some of the things we talk about in class.”

“Like what?” She leaned back, kicked her leg high and crossed it, allowing the skirt to rise even higher.

“I’ve heard you talk about allegories, metaphors, hidden meanings…I just don’t see any of that, when I read a story.”

“What do you see?” She smiled.

“A story,” he shrugged, feigning apathy; his gaze often dropped to her legs, his turgid member suffocating inside his tight jeans. “Just a story someone felt had to be written.”

“Well,” she licked her lips, “you may have a point there; nevertheless, you have to learn to read a story through different lenses, to analyze it. If,” she pointed out, “you want to pass.”

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair, when she uncrossed her legs and kept them open; he stared, helplessly, at the garter hugging her thighs and her exposed cunt.

“Something caught your attention?” She smirked.

“No, I’m…sorry, didn’t mean to…” he apologized, nervously stumbling on his words.

He couldn’t understand what was going on; he could feel the vibes, yet, he was too scared to let himself believe. Besides, she was a respected professor and he was just a freshman; would he risk punishment, or even being expelled, for some faint signs?

“Don’t apologize,” she said and caressed her thigh, lifting the skirt even higher. “Confidence is a must in academia; without it, you’ll go nowhere, even if your ideas are world-changing.”

“Right, yes,” he nodded, confused. “I’m just…”

“Relax,” she got up and fixed her skirt deliberately slow.

He observed her walking slowly to the door to lock it; his eyes scanned her slim figure, her sturdy, round ass which she wiggled oh so lightly and effortlessly, her large breasts barely hidden under the silk shirt. He sat all too rigidly, his hands crossed over his crotch.

“Well,” she bit the corner of her lips and placed her hands firmly on the chair’s arms, “maybe, you could use some extra hours; help you catch up with the rest of the class.”

“That…would…be…great…” he articulated each word carefully, physically incapable of maintaining eye-contact, her breasts right in his face.

“You’re very easily distracted, aren’t you?” She chuckled warmly. “Perhaps, we should work on that first!”

“What do…” He started, but, swallowed her rest of the question down, when she unbuttoned her shirt.

His jaw dropped to the floor, when she took her shirt and bra off; her breasts—melon-sized, round, and perfectly firm—looked even bigger in contrast to her flat stomach and thin arms.

“What are you so afraid of?” She whispered in his ear, pressing her tits against his torso. “I’d imagine a jock like you would have all the girls at his feet…”

“I…” he swallowed down hard, reluctantly touching her waist.

“Is it simply because I’m your professor, or, are you waiting for the one true love?” She bit his earlobe and caressed his abs.

“I’m just…” he drew deep breaths, both his hands around her waist.

“Not sure what’s happening? I thought you were smart enough!”

Her warm, low laughter in his ear sent a tingling sensation across his body, the hair on his arms standing in attention. He moved his hands under her skirt and groped her ass firmly.

She helped him out of his t-shirt and ran her lips softly across his chest and stomach, licking his toned muscles and staring directly into his eyes.

He pulled her hair up, with one hand caressing her back and shoulder blades, feeling her soft, moisturized skin on his fingertips. Abruptly overwhelmed with anxiety, he glanced about; all blinds were drawn down, the door had been locked. She planted a kiss down south, low on his stomach, and he smiled idiotically.

She unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them; “was about time,” she said and jerked his pants down, “we did something about that.” She winked, then kissed his cock over his tight, black boxers, while humming softly.

He stood up and she got down to her knees, still kissing and rubbing his erect cock over the boxers; she smiled broadly, both outwardly and inwardly, while feeling up the length and thickness of the young prick.

She pulled down his boxers and the imprisoned cock jumped up and slapped her across the face. She softly leaned back and a girlish chuckle escaped her mouth. For a brief moment, she simply stared at the hard, pulsating cock; then, she stroke it, tilting closer to it, running her tongue across the shaft and teasingly sucking the balls.

He held her long, light-brown hair up, and lifted his glance to the ceiling, as her tongue and lips worked on his cock, already causing his lower back to jerk, despite not even having taken it in her mouth yet. He panted, mesmerized by the slurping sounds filling the room.

She took the tip in her mouth, swirling her tongue; looking up, searching for his eyes. She took him deeper down her throat, with one hand massaging his balls and with the other teasing her nipples.

Their gazed met; hers had grown watery. She took him balls deep in, choking herself on his dong, till she had to pull back for a breather, before attacking his cock all over again.

She lifted her skirt up around her waist and rubbed her clit fervently, while sucking Rob deep and hard. He held her head steady with both hands, gradually finding his courage and confidence, and slammed her mouth.

His balls slapped against her jaw and her mascara was ruined by the tears running down her eyes; she fingered herself hard, her whole body shaking.

He rubbed his cock all over her face, when she took his balls in her mouth and sucked them; suddenly, she got up and slithered out of her skirt.

For a moment, he stared aghast, and with mad desire, at her body—now only in garter nylon stockings and high-heel black pumps. He took her in his arms, fondling her ass, caressing her thighs; their lips met in a fiery kiss, their tongues engaged in a wild, primitive dance.

She ran her hands across his chiseled body, enthralled at having the athletic body pressed against hers; she grabbed his throbbing cock. She rubbed and slapped it on her wet pussy; he squeezed her asscheeks and pulled her even closer.

She lifted one leg and he placed it on his shoulder; she helped guide his cock in her soaked pussy. At first slowly, he worked on the thrusts; long, deep, passionate. She buried her face in his shoulder, kissing and biting his neck, breathing heavily directly into his ear.

He intensified his pace, their synchronous moaning growing louder; his balls slapped against her dripping pussy. His knees grew weaker, as he came close to coming; he pulled out and twisted her around.

She grinded her ass against him, her arms wrapped around his neck; he kissed her on the neck, on the cheeks, on the lips. She smiled broadly and reciprocated the kisses. Swiftly, he pushed her forth; she placed her hands on the desk and spread her leg, looking back at him meaningfully.

He pushed his shaft back inside of her; he thrust slower now, more methodical. He spanked her ass and pulled her hair; pacing himself, occasionally stopping the thrusts while balls-deep in her.

She squirmed and bit down her lips, resting her head on the desk and with one hand rubbing her clit.

He lifted her legs off the floor and drilled her, while holding her in the air; she screamed from the abruptness of the move, finding herself in the air, helpless to his will. She held on to the desk, as he put more power behind every thrust.

On the brink of coming, he pulled out; he let her legs go, and she stepped on solid ground again, right before he pulled her up and spun her around. Face to face, he sucked on her tits and bit the erect nipples. She pressed his head closer to her body, imprisoning him between her tits; he sucked and bit and squeezed, while she moaned loudly to the ceiling.

He picked her up and, immediately, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He rammed her hard again, kissing and sucking her neck. Her breasts bounced rhythmically, while he had a firm grip on her buttocks.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips right in his ear, moaning and groaning seductively; her toes curled, her legs grew numb. He slammed her even harder, rocking her body up and down, her tits rubbing against his chest.

Her moans grew heavier, when his cock throbbed deep inside her. He couldn’t hold it any longer; he had reached his physical limits.

“Yes, yes,” she whispered in his ear passionately, “fill me up, baby. I’m coming, too…”

She bit her lips hard and threw her head back, climaxing the moment she felt the first load of cum inside of her; he unloaded a river of hot jizz in her. Finally, he pulled out, panting heavily and all too satisfied.

He put Kylie on the desk; she sat there, legs spread, cunt dripping, looking at him with a wide smile of perfect satisfaction. She pulled him closer and planted a hot, wet kiss on his lips. Then, she bent and kissed his flaccid, dripping shaft.

“I hope you…” he began saying, but, she hurriedly placed her finger on his lips.

“Don’t…” she shook her head with a smile. “Keep it up, though, and you’ll soon be getting straight A’s!”

“It wasn’t…”

“Don’t talk,” she scolded him.

She got up, quickly got dressed. He mimicked her.

“Maybe,” she said, after she unlocked the door, “I’ll come to the field tonight, to see you after practice.”

Best Friends


“You know,” Bob said solemnly, “it’s beginning to get tiresome.”

“Look,” Laura replied, after a long hit out of the wine bottle, “you just have to show some patience, some…don’t let it bring you down.”

“Easy for you to say!” He accepted the bottle, and smirked. “You’ll never know how it feels being totally invisible!”

“You’re being too dramatic, Bob,” she scolded him. “You’re not invisible! You’re just…”

“Hopeless?” He drank long.

“Trying too hard, sometimes,” she corrected him. “And it shows.”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Sit in a corner, acting indifferent? Will then women start approaching me?”

“Don’t take it to the extremes! That’s always been your problem, actually. Never bothering with silver linings, never thinking of a middle point.”

“Live a day in my shoes, then come talk to me about silver linings.”

“Don’t get mad at me!” She protested.

“Sorry,” he retreated hastily. “It’s just…”

“What happened this time?”

“I was out last night, with the guys,” he said, his expression immediately darkening. “To that new night club, downtown? Well, at first, it was alright; we had some beers, made some jokes. Then, after a little while, there was more dancing, more people standing, it was…

“You know how it gets. Crowded, people mingling, all that.”

“Yeah, I know…so, what happened?”

“Nothing!” He erupted, then drained the remaining wine. Laura got up, staggered to the fridge, and uncorked the third bottle of the day. “That’s the point!” Bob continued, after another snort of wine. “The guys got up, some started dancing with some girls on the floor, others were chatting up girls…and I sat in our booth, suddenly all alone.

“Looking about, smiling at some girls; and they didn’t even give me a second glance! Hell, as soon as they noticed me looking at them, they turned the other way, clearly disgusted I was even there!”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating!” Laura said sternly. “It couldn’t have been that bad!”

“It was probably even worse,” Bob said. “The only times people do notice me, is when I’m with you; and that’s because they’re wondering how a vile sob like me landed a beauty queen like you.”

“Thanks,” she whispered with a giggle. “At any rate, I think it’s just your negativity talking right now. Or, maybe, you just concentrate on the negative, and miss out on the good things happening around you.”

“Bullshit,” he retorted angrily. “I do appreciate,” he hastily, and apologetically, added, “your efforts, don’t get me wrong. It’s just, as I’ve told you so many times, that you cannot possibly know how it feels like; when you walk in a night club, guys are willing to fight over a chance to talk to you.

“For me, well, some girls will probably fight as to who they’ll throw at me as a sacrifice, so the rest can enjoy their night.”

Laura had a good, long hit from the bottle; the wine began getting a hold of her, her head grew lighter and her limbs pleasantly numb.

When she got up to get another bottle, Bob could not restrain his glance from falling to her firm ass, hardly concealed from her tight shorts, wiggling under her faintly unsteady footsteps. He had to fix his jeans, when she bent over to reach for the bottle.

“We’re running low on wine,” she said, still bent over, her upper body inside the refrigerator. “Only two bottles left,” she picked them both up, uncorked them, and brought them over to the couch.

Bob took one gladly, had a long sip; however, the alcohol did not aid with his raging erection. Laura sat crosslegged next to him, and drank; a few drops spilled down from her mouth onto her white t-shirt, and Bob gulped down, suddenly sweating.

“You know,” she said after a few minutes of silent drinking, stumbling lightly on her words, “I sometimes wish I wasn’t garnering as much attention as I do.”

“Right…” he chuckled dryly, had a good long hit of wine. “That’s simply because you don’t know otherwise, Laura. You would hate it, trust me, if you had to spend an entire night sitting all alone in a night club, waiting in despair for someone, anyone, to pay you some attention.

“You can get drunk in any bar, sometimes without even paying for a single drink.”

“Sure,” she frowned, “but, that’s only because guys come running to me, due to my looks. No one really cares about what’s inside of me, you know? They don’t bother ask me about my hobbies, my interests…anything, actually. They just fire up jokes, try to impress me with their job, or how well-read they are, or whatever else they’ve got going for themselves…sometimes, it’s just about lifting their shirt to woo me with their abs, because that’s all they’ve got.

“All but you, Bob,” she reached tenderly for his hand, took it into hers. “You’ve always cared about me; about my interests, what I’m doing with my life, my dreams, even my flaws.”

“You’ve got no flaws, Laura,” he whispered, horrified by the sweatiness of his palm and thrilled over the softness of her skin.

She burst into warm, genuine laughter, then leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek; a long, warm, wet kiss that nearly caused Bob’s heart to explode.

“That’s what I’ve always loved about you,” she suddenly said, her head resting on his rigid shoulder, “how you can always make me laugh and feel good about myself.”

He didn’t speak; no words would exit his mouth at that moment, even if there were words he wished to utter. He sat rigidly up, staring dead ahead at Laura’s bookcase, with countless of thoughts racing through his mind, thousands of emotions and potential actions tormenting his psyche, but, there was nothing he actually could do.

“Are you okay?” Laura lifted her head. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m alright, yes, it’s…” he cleared his throat, unable to face her. “I’m just a little cold, that’s all.”

You’re joking, right?” She giggled. “It’s 30o C outside! I’m sweating buckets here and I wear almost nothing!”

“Yeah,” he sighed heavily. “I’m okay, though, don’t worry,” he added hastily.

“What’s got you so fascinated?” She leaped off the couch and stood in front of him. “You keep staring at the books, as if you expect them to talk to you!”

“I’m just going through the titles, that’s all…” he apologized.

“Haven’t you seen them before? You’ve been here so many times!”

“Just checking if you got any new ones, that’s all…” he mumbled.

“Bob, are you sure you’re all right?” She asked, worry apparent in her voice.

“Yes,” he replied, heavyhearted; he couldn’t avoid looking at her. He stared at her lean body, the perspiration on her soft skin reflecting under the light, her round breasts, her visible—under the thin, white fabric of her t-shirt—nipples.

“Look,” she sat next to him, trapped his hand between hers, “don’t overthink about what we talked about; you have to stop thinking so much, you know? You tend to think so much, ending up sabotaging yourself; take it easy, act more impulsively.

“Your friends, of whom you’re so jealous, don’t waste time on weighing consequences, do they?”

Was it the wine, or her words? Bob could not tell; however, in the midst of his drunken haziness, and feeling Laura’s hot breath right on his face, he couldn’t help but go for the kiss; it had been a dream of his since day one, since they were young children playing in kindergarten, or, riding their bikes after school.

Laura was taken aback; she did not immediately break it off, instead, she responded positively at first, allowing him clumsily to bite her lips, pushing his tongue reluctantly into her mouth. It felt wrong, however, thus quickly she pushed him away, albeit gently, and for a moment she simply stared at him in bewilderment.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he whispered on the brink of tears, looking at the floor.

“It’s okay, it’s just…” she paused, arching her eyebrows. “Why?”

He looked up abruptly, a fire raging in his body. He opened his mouth, shut it; repeated the same motion a number of times, unable to muster a coherent thought, let alone an actual sentence.

“I do love you, Bob,” she said, in a hoarse voice, while the whole apartment spun around her faster and faster, “but, never did I…I never thought of you in…that way… you know, I’m…I’m sorry, really, it’s just…” suddenly, a hiccup thundered her body.

They both burst into chuckles, the tension suddenly decreased; he leaned forward, his time to place his hands over hers.

“Laura,” he said, in an unsteady voice, rocking back and forth, fueled by alcohol courage, “I’ve always loved you; ever since we were kids. I was just…” he paused, cleared his throat. He closed his eyes, desperate to regain some clarity, wash away the blurriness of both his mind and eyesight. “I’ve always been afraid, you know?

“I’ve always known I didn’t stand a chance, you know? I mean…” he looked down at his body, his protruding gut, his thin, untrained arms. “Yeah…anyway, it was probably just the wine taking over, we…did drink quite a bit, huh?” He failed to smile.

Laura inspected him intensely, unable completely to comprehend the inner struggle taking place in her head. Overwhelmed by her own thoughts, she leaped up on him, kissed him; Bob, at first, was caught completely by surprise, felt certain he was dreaming.

She kissed him passionately, her hands on his face, sucking on his lips; gradually, he reciprocated, his body alit. He helped her out of her t-shirt, gently touched her breasts; rubbed her nipples softly, hesitantly.

“No, no, please…” he protested in a whisper, when she began lifting his shirt.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” she whispered in his ear, then bit his earlobe; he moaned and relaxed enough so she could remove his shirt.

Instinctively, he sucked his gut in, his face scarlet. She planted kisses on his neck, his chest. He caressed her back, running his fingers across her smooth skin; he gave her wet, sloppy kisses on the neck and shoulders.

“Stop worrying,” she said in a soft, seductive voice, as she continued to move southwards, planting kisses along his stomach.

A tingling sensation overwhelmed him, when she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, kissing his crotch. He still caressed her back and shoulders, ran his fingers through her long, blonde hair.

Laura, quite forcefully, yanked his jeans down to his ankles; she stared right up and into his eyes smilingly. He gave her a fearful smirk, suddenly overcme by the realization of the unknown. She kissed his erect penis over his boxers, her fingers running along his legs, causing the hair to stand in attention like soldiers before their commanding officer.

He drew deep breaths, averting his gaze, when Laura took his center in her mouth, softly sucking on the head; he was trying, in absolute despair, to think of something else. He recited Shelley in his head, then he went on to Li Po. Nothing worked; his balls were swollen and of a faint blue color, and his mind got further deep into the hazy mist of alcoholic orgasm.

“Wow,” Laura exclaimed, unwillingly letting a giggle escape her mouth, when a long, thick stream of cum landed first in her mouth, then all over her face, as she pulled away. She hastily, and instinctively, wiped the cum off with her shirt.

“I’m so sorry, I…” Bob said, exhausted and flushed.

“It’s okay,” she said, her face scarlet. “It happens sometimes; nothing to worry about.”

“No, it’s not okay, it’s…” he started, then he threw his head back and engaged in a staring contest with the ceiling.

“Bob,” she crawled up on the couch, her hand resting on his chest, feeling his palpitating heart, “it’s okay.”

“God, I’m such a useless piece of…”

She pressed her finger on his lips, then turned his face by the chin, forcing him to look into her eyes.

“Laura, I don’t know…” he began, then stopped at the lack of anything meaningful to say.

“Bob,” she blew air in his ear, rubbing her calf against his flaccid cock, “it’s not all over; nothing’s over, until we give up.”

“Laura, what do you…” She kissed him before he could finish the question; he tasted himself, but, he also sensed her willingness and passion.

She took his hand away from her breast, which he was fondling reverently, and guided it down south, inside of her shorts; his eyes instantly popped open, when his fingers first came into contact with the moist territory that had thitherto been completely unknown to him.

She smiled widely and squirmed, when one of his fingers slipped inside of her; “there you go,” she whispered encouragingly in his ear, then sucked on his neck, while he slowly moved his finger up and down, as if calling someone over, trying to synchronize his movements with those of her body.

Laura cupped his hand, assisting him with the rhythm; then, gently, she guided his thumb on her clit, helping him with the circular, gentle movements; he smiled and kissed her, his other hand lingering a bare inch away from her ass-crack, caressing her lower back gently.

He bit her lower lip rather hard, when she grabbed and squeezed his balls; he stared into her eyes lustfully, as she stroked blood back to his center.

Quickly, and despite the alcohol, his organ grew turgid; Laura gave him a meaningful smile, whilst stroking, softening now the rhythm. He intensified the fingering; she rolled off of him and stared directly into his eyes, spreading her legs wide. She rubbed and squeezed her breasts, licking her lips slowly.

He leaned in for the kiss; at first, she accepted it, however, quickly she pushed his head downwards.

In spite of her moaning and panting, he could sense his kisses were not good enough; he tried hard to please her, but, all he could think of was how badly he was disappointing her. He focused on her breasts for a long time, kissing and sucking the erect nipples, working his tongue circularly around them.

It was Laura, who pushed him further down; he ran his lips across her flat stomach, slowly but steadily reaching for the pussy. As soon as he arrived and looked at it (for the first time in his life), he almost panicked; it was the alcohol that kept him chained, as well as the strong desire burning up his soul.

He kissed the clit, the lips; reluctantly, he let the tip of his tongue out of his mouth, experienced the first taste. It felt like nothing he had expected, yet, caught in the turmoil of the moment—and trapped by Laura’s thighs that pressed his head up against her cunt—he allowed his tongue out of his mouth and into Laura’s vagina.

His sole guide were the texts he had read on the Internet, during the countless nights spent browsing for porn and for “how-to” guides; he tried to spell the alphabet with his tongue on her clit, he flicked his tongue up and down inside the pussy; Laura’s moans and squirms caused burning sensations in his own mind and body, and his cock throbbed.

Laura stared at the ceiling, eyes wide open; producing sounds meant to encourage him further. She toyed with her nipples, biting her lips down; in her mind she was somewhere else (or, put better, with someone else), yet, slowly the pleasure increased, he was improving, gradually, and finally she was able actually to enjoy the act.

Eventually, she pulled him up, her hands tenderly on his cheeks; she kissed him, while reaching down south. Her face illumined, when she felt his erection; Bob kissed her again, with an exuberant smile.

She jerked him off, in gentle, soft, slow strokes, and spread her legs even wider; by the cock she pulled him closer. Bob remained passive, perfectly conscious of what was going to happen and terror overwhelmed him. His cock pulsated.

In it went, and for a moment Bob was dead certain he’d ejaculate again; fireworks went off in his mind, he heard bells ringing. Laura’s legs were wrapped around his waist, assisting him on the thrusts, controlling the rhythm.

She caressed his back gently, kissing him on the neck; slowly, Bob gained some control over his body and excited for having saved himself from a second embarrassment, he pounded Laura with more bravado, driving his cock balls deep inside of her.

Laura’s moans in his ear increased his excitement; he kissed her on the lips passionately, still inside of her, still thrusting deep and slow. Gradually, intense pleasure overwhelmed Laura, too, who still controlled the pounding with her legs; “like this, yes,” she whispered in his ear in a deep, low voice, then bit his earlobe and sucked on his neck.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” he admitted in a whisper; she locked him with her legs inside of her.

“Don’t worry, relax,” she smiled, then they kissed, with Bob all the way inside of her, perfectly still.

His cock pulsated, his body twitched; she lightened the pressure on his back, but, he remained inside of her, horrified of moving. He kept kissing her, unwilling to stop, unwilling to change anything; wishing for nothing but to freeze-frame the moment, to make it last forever.

Nothing, though, lasts longer than a second; Laura ground her pussy against his crotch, suddenly clenching her inner muscles around his cock. It was more than Bob could handle; he erupted, the head of his cock expanding inside her and flooding her with streams of hot semen.

Laura moaned louder, finally spreading her legs wide and leaning backwards on the couch; Bob, enraptured, pulled out and sat next to her, panting in exhaustion and sporting a wide, absentminded smile.

“How was it?” He asked in fear, but, received no reply.

Laura simply took hold of his hand and planted a soft kiss on his cheek; then, she rushed to the bathroom to urinate. Bob wiped his cock clean with some paper towels and hurriedly got dressed.

“Are you leaving?” She raised her eyebrow, when she came back out to the living room stark naked.

“I thought…” he tried to come up with some intelligible words to utter.

“Why don’t you sleep here? It’s late,” she sat back on the couch and swigged the remaining wine out of the bottle.

“Okay,” he said hesitantly and sat next to her.

They shared the last wine, until they both fell asleep on the couch; Laura still naked, Bob fully dressed.

“Coffee?” She asked him in the morning and poured him a cup.

He sat at the small metal table, right across of her, and they both lit a cigarette simultaneously.

“You know,” she said, her voice steady but low, “it was quite the fun night, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said and immediately his face brightened up. “It was really great!”

“Good to know…” she sighed heavily. “Bob,” she reached out across the table and sought his hand, “I hope you understand that…after last night, we can’t…”

“No, I don’t understand,” he said, flabbergasted, even though he understood perfectly well; and his heart had been viciously stabbed.

“We’ve been friends for so long, and…” she paused, collected her thoughts, “I don’t really see you this way…last night was just…what with the wine, the kiss, the talk we had…it just sort of happened, you know?”

“Laura,” he protested, “I know I wasn’t that good, but, I’ll get better, I’ll improve! I promise you, I…”

“Bob,” she interjected, her voice sterner, “it’s not that! You were quite good, I really enjoyed myself. However,” she cleared her throat and stared dead into his eyes, discerning nothing but devastation, “I’m kind of going out with this guy…I didn’t tell you about it, didn’t want…anyway, he’s really nice, you know?

“Plays for a big basketball team, might get called up for the national team…and, at any rate, I really do like him. And after last night, I can’t…you know, be around you. Not after…”

“So, what was last night? An act of pity?”

“No, not at all!” She cried. “It was just…I don’t know. Probably, just the wine that made emotions run high.”

“Fucking fantastic,” he laughed harshly. “I really thought you were my friend, Laura,” he crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and leaped up. “I really thought we had something good…and, last night, I slept like a little baby, finally not tormented by cruel thoughts about loneliness and desperation.”

“Don’t do this, Bob,” she pleaded with him. “You’re making it unnecessarily hard.”

“No, I’m just…” he paused, drew a deep breath. “Oh, what’s the point, right?” He shrugged. “Good luck with your basketball star,” he stormed off the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Escapism


Rita lifted her exhausted, aching eyes from her copy of History of Western Philosophy, feeling as if a raging fire was ravaging her mind; she leaned back on the leather office chair, stretched, and several cracks echoed in her silent small apartment illuminated only by the lamp attached to the desk, its bright white light falling directly onto the pages.

She lit a cigarette and inhaled deep, with a sigh letting the blue cloud of smoke out of her mouth; she couldn’t even tell how long it’d been since she last had gone out to town. For the past few weeks, her only outings were the visits to the supermarket, for provisions.

The master’s thesis was looming over her head like a black cloud ready to implode in the most violent storm, the deadline approaching fast like a runaway train gliding through the tracks with no consideration for innocent passersby and she could do nothing to stall it.

Was there, though, meaning to keep pushing herself, reading all the passages and the books, writing dozens of outlines (which they all, indiscriminately, ended up in the trash bin next to her desk), trying to view the selected subject from all points and angles?

As she dragged from her cigarette, she dreadfully realized that “no, there’s no damn point”; every angle she could think of, every main subject and analysis she suddenly thought of as “that’s it!”, someone’d already written about it, and others had commented, corrected, and argued about it.

Howsoever she looked at it, there was nothing new left to be said; the dreadful realization quickly dawned upon her, though, that it wasn’t the fault of those, who had written papers, dissertations, and books on the subject, but her own. She simply wasn’t cut out for a life in academia, she did not possess the mental prowess and innovation to make it into this highly competitive field. Even if she had lived before Kant was born, she would not have been able to write, or even come up with something vaguely resembling, Critique of Pure Reason. The ideas would have been just as alien to her as the new, still unwritten, ideas of some brilliant genius working somewhere in a basement are.

Hence, and despite the late hour, she got dressed; a short, tight-fitting, red strapless dress and black heels, she checked herself on the mirror after she finished fixing her hair and applying her makeup and smiled contentedly. At the very least, she tried to console herself, I still look good even after so many weeks locked inside, even if I’ll never write a philosophical treaty that’ll change the world.

Little did it do to comfort her struggling mind, as she was haunted by thoughts about the uncertain future lying ahead, but, her reflection on the mirror was enough to give her a good boost of confidence. She walked out of the apartment building and into the main street of the little town in which she resided.

Even though it was a little past midnight, people were still out in abundance, some staggering back home after more tequila shots than they could handle, while others were taking their parties to the bars and nightclubs that stayed open until the first hours of daylight; it was toward the latter she was heading, too, knowing there’d be a large crowd (it was, after all, Saturday night), which she hoped would aid her to forget, even for a night, the daunting thoughts tormenting her mind.

She pushed her way through the already raucous crowd—plenty of the patrons were already semi-drunk, talking loudly and staggering about—and entered the smoking lounge; it was one of the few bars in town having a respectable place for smokers to sit and enjoy their drinks, without having either to go out in the rain to have a cigarette, or get packed like sardines in a can inside some glass-container.

Rita took a seat at the bar, on the only empty stool, and ordered a gin and tonic; it arrived quickly and the first sip was indeed rejuvenating, as it flowed through her blood system and soothed her mind—perhaps it was simply her own imagination, but, nonetheless, she did feel better.

More relaxed and with a faint smile curling her bright red lips, she turned on the stool, scanning the room; everywhere there were happy people talking over the blasting rock music, sipping from large glasses of beer, dancing, flirting, kissing.

At first, her attention was drawn to a lone man sitting at the edge of the counter, all alone and the sole solemn-looking person in the room, brooding over a nearly-empty glass of what appeared to be whiskey.

Rita smiled at him, when he raised his glance and their eyes momentarily met; he offered her a half-smile, a sullen, tired curl of the lips, then turned to the bartender and pointed at his glass. Soon, Rita gave up on him, as he was evidently more interested in the whiskey he was draining than in her; and yet, something about the long-haired, bearded man in the torn leather jacket and stained black shirt fascinated her.

Her solitude did not last long; suddenly, a young black man dressed in saggy jeans and a tight-fitting purple shirt giving away his muscled torso approached her with a wide smile exposing his bright white teeth; she flinched, when he put his hand, quite tenderly, on her knee, but, decided to play along—after all, she did come to the bar to flirt the night away, to kill some time with the hope of relaxing her mind enough so as to work on her thesis with more bravado come morning.

“Hi there, baby,” the young man said, still sporting his wide, warm smile, “whatcha doing all alone?”


Continue reading this ebook at Smashwords.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-32 show above.)