~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
Alison took a deep breath, pushed the doors open and sashayed into the bar, hips rocking. Conversation dropped off as she crossed the room, devoured by fifty sets of eyes.
Her metallic one-piece outfit was almost like a swimsuit. Her cleavage was very prominent, and her legs bare. Three-inch heels completed the come-on ensemble.
Fred met her at the bar. He suppressed a smile, a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
“Re-visiting the scene of the crime?” he said, wiping the bar.
“No, just waiting for a friend. Seen Tommy tonight?”
“Nope. What’ll it be?”
She swung her behind on the barstool and as she took out her smartphone, it pinged: “In Chicago. Flight delayed 30 mins. Love you!”
Alison frowned. Before she could give any thought on how to hold off a horde of horny males, the door opened and four suits came in. Not cheap suits, either, very tailored. The last suit was a tall, angular woman, followed by Tommy, dressed as usual in shabby preppie attire—wrinkled chinos, a faded golf shirt and beat-up loafers.
Ten minutes later, Tommy slid onto the stool next to her. “Babe, you look great. Better than last time.”
“I’m getting laid regular.”
“It becomes you.” He leaned in. “I, uh, got a problem. We need to talk.”
Alison smiled and put a hand to his cheek. “But you’re so self-sufficient and manly.”
Tommy held his phone up to her. A text message read, “Sorry.”
“It’s from ‘Heather,’ you know, with quote marks. My legion of women to soothe the Germans’ souls bailed on me.”
“Poor baby. Judging from this motley crowd, it might take you, oh, thirty seconds to recruit a new team.”
“Listen to me. This is important. This deal, I mean. Two major German car manufacturers are exiting the warranty repair business. They want to set up an independent company for all warranty work. They’re outsourcing. Allie, I get this deal, and I’ve got it made. I can retire in two years, tops. I’ll be in the Keys bone fishing every day. If I can close this deal.”
“Safe to say, your business savvy from fifteen years in the exotic car repair business is enough?”
“I wish. They’re Euros. The way you do business with them is, you entertain them. Yeah, I’m the logical guy. But there’s competition.”
“What can I do?”
“Klaus, Dieter and Wolfgang have been sitting at the table since the moment they came in licking their chops, looking at you.”
Alison stiffened. “Wait a minute…”
Tommy reached for her wrist. “You owe me one, remember?”
“Dammit, I’m not a common prostitute.”
“I know that. But you walked in here two years ago, hips swaying, to prove a point. To prove that you could do it—sell your body, make men fight over you, if you had to. That you’ve got the appeal and skills to do it for a living. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you had a good time, didn’t you? Then I whisked you out the back door, took you home, and you screwed me like a teenager.”
Alison bit her lip. “My girlfriend’s on her way. I just can’t—”
“Yes, you can. You can do it for me. I’ll wait out here for Morgan—”
“Moriah, sorry. I’ll intercept her. Got a picture?”
“She’s a dyke. She’ll stick out like a…” Alison jabbed at her smartphone. “Well, this probably isn’t the best…”
Tommy pulled the phone out of her hand and tilted it to get rid of the glare. “Yeah, well, the ball gag isn’t very becoming. No tits, but kind of cute. So this is how lesbians do it?”
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
The customer, in a gray three-piece suit that screamed lawyer, sat opposite the desk as Tommy sank back in his office chair. The guy had picked up his Mercedes the week before. A problem with the front-end job?
Nope. It was about a visit to a crummy east-side bar two years ago. Tommy had set up a gang bang for Alison, his long-time sex buddy. And played traffic cop to make sure the it ran smoothly as seven lucky guys took turns in a back room.
“You probably don’t remember me, but I remember you,” the guy said to Tommy over the blast of pneumatic wrenches. “You ran interference for a young lady who, uh, was entertaining some men on a busted pool table.”
“You a cop?”
“No, one of the customers, although I guess that’s not the right word, since she was free. Highly remarkable, considering how beautiful she was.”
“It might’ve been me.”
“I’m looking for that young lady,” he said and leaned forward. “This is going to sound fantastical, but it’s about an investment. Long story, so I’ll cut to the chase. After you and the young lady left, all seven of us lucky males who had enjoyed her services sat at the bar. We all agreed. She was absolutely, bar-none, the best any of us had ever had.”
“I’ll pass the compliment along.”
“Even Mike, the black guy who gets more high quality sex in a week than most of us get in a year, said she was extraordinary.”
“I’m working with a scientific concern that’s developing a sex surrogate using robotics and virtual reality. Know what a sex surrogate is?”
“A woman who has sex for therapeutic reasons, I think. Help guys who can’t get off.”
“That’s right. I’m heading up a venture capital group to get this thing on solid financial footing. The goal is to fully automate a female sexual surrogate using robotics, micro sensors, body imaging and, most importantly, virtual reality. This isn’t going to be a cheap, inflatable sex doll. Or a high-quality silicone corpse that looks great, but just lays there. Using vision goggles, tactile simulators, sound, aroma, and, yes, direct genital stimulation, it’s a system that will respond and even initiate sex with a man. There’s a huge need.”
“That many men can’t get their rocks off?”
“It’s amazing the number of sexually dysfunctional males who need skilled therapy for problems like anxiety, body-image issues and premature ejaculation. Yet skilled, legitimate sex surrogates are scarce. It is, to put it mildly, a niche occupation that’s easily confused with prostitution.”
“Because it is prostitution, right?”
“No, it’s not. Sexual services for pay in a therapeutic situation are not illegal.”
“Dude, I strongly suspect—hell, I know—a lot of hookers who say their work is highly therapeutic.”
The guy held a hand up. “No argument. Regardless, a fully functional sex robot can fill that void. Our team is about ninety-five percent of the way there, but we’ve hit a snag.”
“Something that Alison can fix?”
“So that’s her name. Yeah, Alison can fill a void. We need to profile a fully sexually responsive woman for our computer models.”
“Profile? What’s that involve?”
“Basically, touching herself while hooked up to a bunch of probes and sensors.... In a room lighted with overhead fluorescents and geeks running around with clipboards.”
“In the nude?”
“Of course. It’s a scenario that shuts down the sexual responsiveness of most women…but that's what we need.”
Tommy looked up for the first time. “Alison’s your girl.”
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
“Allie. Don’t do it,” Tommy pleaded, shifting the phone to his other shoulder. “Please. You could get hurt.”
“I’ve been to that bar before. Fred knows me. You’re always so dramatic.”
“Fred’s the bartender. He can’t help you in the parking lot when a half-dozen sex-crazed, laid-off crane jockeys throw you down on the parking lot and start taking turns,” Tommy said. “At the very least, you’ll be picking gravel out of your formerly beautiful backside for the next week.”
“Tommy, Moriah was a cop. She can handle tough situations. Until she gets there from the airport, I’ll stick close to Fred.”
“Does she carry?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what’s she going to do when you two are manhandled into that back room by a crowd of beer-infused rednecks? They might just gangbang both of you on the bar. Worse has happened in that place. Shootings, knifings.”
“Don’t be hysterical.”
Tommy sighed. “Okay, tell you what. I’ll rearrange my schedule. You’ll get there, what, at nine? I’m entertaining three German auto execs, suits, about a very big deal. I’ll take them to Ric’s. They thrive on that kind of shit…slumming around low-brow, knuckle-draggers in sleazy shitholes. They’re Euro-trash snobs who like nothing better than looking down their noses at dumb Americans. I’ve got two hookers lined up for them…real floozies, too, teased hair, gum-snapping whores. Yeah, that’ll work. An evening of cultural hypocrisy topped off by a group bang on that busted pool table.”
“Don’t change your plans for me,” Alison sniffed.
“I won’t interfere with your evening of lesbian bliss. You won’t even know I’m there. I’ll just get some peace of mind.”
“Hey, I got plans for that pool table. Anyway, how are you going to watch over me? Won’t you be banging the whores, too?”
“Nope. I’ve got to babysit the one broad in the group, a suit from Stuttgart. Icy bitch, and that’s saying a lot for a female German auto executive. I’ll be able to keep an eye on you while the male Krauts take their revenge for Dresden in the back room. When’s your girlfriend supposed to get there?”
“Her flight gets in around eight. With baggage and stuff, maybe nine-thirty.”
“That means she’s got to go through O’Hare. This time of year there’s a good chance the flight will be late. We won’t tie up the pool table for long. A couple quickies is all I’m paying for.”
“You’re overwrought, but I like it when you worry about me. Reminds me of high school.”
“Dammit, Alison, do you have any idea what could’ve happened two years ago if I wasn’t there for that gangbang of yours? You might’ve been torn to pieces, found naked and dead on the side of the road the next morning with a broken beer bottle up your snatch.”
“I owe you one.”
“It might be two after Friday.”
“You’ll buy me a drink, won’t you? Before Moriah gets there?”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll push my way through the crowd of horn dogs sniffing at you and say hi.”
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
A peal of ear-splitting thunder echoed throughout the room. The atmosphere felt charged as the sky opened up and heavy splats of rain fell on the stones of the patio outside the glass doors.
Our eyes locked. I moved toward Moriah and ran my finger down her cheek and on to her lips. Her mouth opened and she sucked my finger, twirling her tongue around it.
I slipped a cuff on each wrist and raised her arms. She was just short enough that her hands didn’t reach the ceiling. I ran the rope through the hook and pulled it taut. She stood almost in the middle of the room, her arms stretched high, standing almost on tiptoe.
“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered.
I stood behind her as I made a knot on the hook and lowered my mouth to her ear. “Give me a safe word. Give me a word that, when you say it, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing and let you go.”
“No, I want you to be able to say ‘stop’ without really meaning it. Something else.”
Her hands now secured above her head, I walked in front of her. Reaching down, I rolled her cotton ribbed sweater up above her breasts, revealing a pretty lace bra. Her eyes widened. The rain was coming down hard, and the room darkened from the storm clouds.
I undid the button on her jeans, slowly lowered the zipper, and pulled her pants down toward her knees. She shook one foot, then the other, sending her slip-ons across the room.
I pulled her jeans off her. All that was left were her bra, panties and socks. And her sweater scrunched up to her chin above her small breasts.
Moriah had a look of wild passion in her eyes as she watched my every move. I left her there and looked around the room for some inspiration.
In the corner were my walking sticks, high-tech poles make of carbon fiber, with rubber-coated tips and leather-wrapped handles with loops that secured them to your wrists while hiking. I picked one up and walked back to Moriah.
She licked her dry lips.
Lightning flashed, followed quickly by the crash of thunder. The fresh smell of ozone filled the air. The excitement was palpable. The atmosphere was charged with electricity, both literal and metaphorical.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
She pulled her coffee closer as she pushed away the plate of food. Sighing she could’t eat another bite. It looked like her appetite was bigger than her stomach. I always felt a little sneaky, being out alone at two o'clock in the morning, watching someone. But my Mistress expected no less from me.
I know that Mistress was waiting back at the rented mansion and the time would soon come for me to take the prize and return gloriously to her.
She finished her coffee, grabbed her check and went over to the cashier.
While she was standing there waiting to get her change, she noticed that a tall, red-haired woman who had been sitting by herself was getting up from her seat. She had seen her staring at her a few times while she was having her breakfast. But she quickly looked away. I must have looked like I was a denizen of the cities, but for many years I had stayed in places where it was safe to be out alone at night. I knew that I needed to be more cautious here though. But something about this woman and the way I had been watching her made must have made her nervous, but I couldn’t help myself. She was mesmerizing, not like any of the others I had been tasked with obtaining. She was dark with perfect olive skin. She was voluptuous in all the right places. But it was her eyes, they were a fiery green and she looked like the devil. Ever since my mistress saw her, she had to have her and what my mistress wants, she gets. The was a strip mall between the diner and the road that was decidedly desolate. This was where I would make my move.
Best to play it safe, I thought to myself, and quickly crossing the parking lot. I'll just see who can wait the longest.
I watched for her and there she was! I was still paranoid, even after many successful abductions for my mistress. Still, I waited a few more minutes before making my way for the target.
The street was calm and moonlit as I saw her cross, and the air was balmy. If I didn't get her now, all may be lost. Thinking about the consequences that my Mistress would inflict upon me if I returned unsuccessful, I decided simply to take a short cut.
The noise of the cars on the out road could be heard only dimly. I breathed deeply, my heart was filled with joy, knowing how pleased my Mistress would be with me when I returned with the prize.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Katherine Haley had been my rival, my nemesis from the moment I had joined the country club.
I had become an overnight sensation ever since Dan had struck virtual gold by selling off his shares of the high tech company he created. All of which had Katherine seething. She had used her own old family wealth and social status to keep me down in my place, calling me ‘nouveau riche.’ Her biggest weakness was gossip… Gossip that I decided to take further and use it against her. One evening I found my chance…
“Laura, there is talk going around that you’re having an affair with Caroline Manson. Not only that, but she’s been scratching herself rather peculiarly. Now you know me, I’m the last one to engage in gossip. However, I thought that I would give you the heads up.” Katherine said with phony sincerity. She also made sure of the fact that she had mentioned it to me while four of her friends were in earshot.
“Why are you so concerned Katherine?” I asked, with a wily look in my eyes. “Are you jealous?”
“God no!” Katherine's wrinkled her little turned up nose to demonstrate her aversion at such rough remarks. Be that as it may, her cheeks were becoming a flushed bright red.
“You’re not jealous?” I inquired. “God I know you want her. You're incorrigible? Do you need a discreet introduction? It can be arranged you know.”
“Nobody needs your…introductions…” Katherine said.
“I can see you blushing,” I went on. “It truly flatters you. But you are jealous. Try not to stress about it Katherine, I've got enough time for you and Caroline as well.”
“I'm not jealous of anybody.” Katherine said, becoming more flushed as it spread from her cheeks to her chest.
“You are imagining I'm naked right now.” I replied.
“You're crazy.” Katherine retorted, but now that I said that, I could see that Katherine couldn't help but think of my naked body.
“Then why the sudden interest in my breasts?”
Katherine's blush bloomed into a deep crimson when I realized she was not only looking at my breasts, but now she was probably imagining them without a bra. She looked away.
I teased, “Anything else you want to undress?”
“Let's finish our cocktails in the dining room.” Katherine urged her friends, not even daring to look at me for fear of being further embarrassed.
Then there was a hush. A silence. Katherine felt her face being cupped between two hands, her chin lifted by two thumbs, her mouth being kissed by two lips. Two hungry eager velvety lips. Her mouth being probed by a strong and questing tongue. It took a few seconds to register what had happened.
She was horrified!
“There's more where that came from.” I said. “But I'll tell you like I told Caroline. If you want to roll the dice, you’ll have to pay the price."
With those words, I left the bar.
Tracy is one of the good girls. She sits quietly in class and she always does her homework. But when the bad girls draw an unflattering picture of their teacher, Miss Angelica makes Tracy stay after school. Tracy has never been given detention before, but she’s pretty sure it isn’t supposed to involve spankings with a yardstick. At least Miss Angelica lets her keep her panties on for that.
But Miss Angelica has much more erotic punishments in mind! How will the no-nonsense teacher react when her best student reveals all?
Futa After Class appears in the anthology Futa Fantasies.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
I’d been having an affair with Margo for half a year now. Margo was actually my boss and a Billionaire business woman. I had to exercise complete discretion, especially around to office, lest anyone catch wind of what was going on between the two of us. Being discreet was easier than one might think, since she seemed to spend most of her time out of town on business trips. Despite her long and frequent absences, when we were together, it was always exciting, she was so kinky too. I absolutely adored her. However, her absences did cause my eyes to wander and they fell upon a new Intern at the office. Her name was Megan and she was absolutely gorgeous! Things really started to get complicated when it was time for the Annual Corporate Summer Party and no expense was ever spared. Megan was excited beyond belief. However, now I had a dilemma. How was I going to keep seeing both Megan and servicing the needs of Margo a secret without the other finding out?
Megan and I had been spending quite a lot of time together and Margo apparently had something up her sleeve that I hadn’t expected. She decided to invite us for a “private team-building” getaway to her mountain retreat for the weekend. Megan was thrilled to finally be able to spend some time with her new Boss. So now I anxiously worried about surviving the weekend.
Margo gave us an appraising look as Megan and I stood at the entrance, cautiously hesitant but nonetheless psyched that we had come. Margo’s deep blue eyes swept over us slowly from head to toe, her eyes locking tightly on mine after she'd had a good look.
“Please,” Margo told us in a low tone, “Come on in girls.”
“I'm really quite happy that you girls decided to come…” she said with a sultry wink in her eye.
“As much as I value your hard work and dedication, I’ve always had a fondness for younger women. Young, beautiful and innocent women…” she said sighing in an almost longingly way.
Margo crossed her legs, her tight black dress highlighting the heart shape of her womanly hips and curvature of her rear.
Then she said something that really shocked me. “You’re a dominatrix aren’t you?”
“I d-don't know.”
Margo had been mine and I was now Megan’s. That’s why I have been desperately trying to keep the two apart.
Margo shook her head gently, her eyes still locked on mine. “I think you know why you are here.”
“So we can p-play with you?”
Margo had leaned over and was stroking Megan's cheek. Megan was becoming so aroused. Margo turned to face me, her fingers rubbing across my tummy as she pressed against my body, her tongue tickling my cheek.
We were led to the bookcase which when Margo pulled a book halfway from its place, slid the whole book case to the side, revealing a secret door. It led to a secret chamber. The space was dark, but warm.
Everything was going so fast like we were being pulled in by an invisible current. It wasn’t bad and I felt that I could stop any time I wanted, but didn’t. In fact, I was happy letting Margo control me, us, like this. Before I knew it my clothes were off and taken away, the only thing left covering my body were the leather straps binding my hands, legs and waist to a smooth wooden pillar behind me…
“She’s climbing,” Professor Slutz said, her eyes glued to the monitor. “Approaching seven hundred Kinseys.”
“Let me know the moment she stabilizes,” Professor Balzac said as he humped inside Remy. One hand gripped Remy’s hip, while the thumb of his other hand gently massaged her.
“Six-eighty-five, six-ninety, six-ninety, six-ninety….”
“Dammit, woman, I said tell me …”
“She’s steady at six-ninety-five. What next?”
“We don’t have a case unless she climbs to seven fifty,” Professor Balzac muttered. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he quickened his pace. “Let’s go into full deposition mode.”
After a nod from Professor Slutz, the interns jabbed buttons and threw switches. The lights came up, and the large conference table lowered into the floor. The ceiling panels drew back, revealing a sea of faces in a circular balcony surrounding the room.
The conference room had transformed into a large, high-tech surgical theater filled with students peering down at Remy, strapped into her chair, and Professor Balzac humping maniacally. Below, nearly a dozen interns, lawyers and technicians milled about the operating theater.
In this collection from best selling erotica author Mary Ann James, you’ll find some of the best hardcore erotica stories available.
Warning: This ebook contains very explicit sexual content. Only mature adults should read this collection.
1. Gangbanged at the Strip Club (A Double Penetration Short)
2. Three Horny Women and One Gay Man (A Rough Erotica Short)
3. Performance Art (A Sex in Public Erotica Story)
4. Candice and the Ghost (A Paranormal Erotica Short)
5. Cheering up Matt (An FFM Threesome Erotica Story)
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Following Kay up the walk to the house, I was captivated by her easy stride, her hips moving on their own, as she approached the door. Her sleeveless, red knit mini-dress was clingy, formfitting, a real show stopper. The fishnets were icing on a very hot cake. She’s a big woman—not big that way, just five-foot-eleven big, proportional, full breasts, a woman’s hips and curves.
Two hours into the party, Phil, one of the bassists in the orchestra, sidled up to me. “You’re a gorgeous couple. Cole and Kay. Kay and Cole. Gotta love the alliteration. And Cole and the ice princess, no less.”
What could I do but smile? A player of the lowly trombone, the descendent of the ancient sackbut, hitting it off with a cellist—instrumentalists not known for commingling with the hoi polloi. But not Kay. She had no pretensions of being a soloist. She was just another working stiff in a regional orchestra that almost paid a living salary.
“Can’t comment on her rep as being cool,” I replied. “Jesus, though, she’s hot tonight.”
We had been lovers for months, a known number in the orchestra for nearly that long, and we knew that soon it would be common knowledge that we were moving in together in the fall.
Throughout the evening, an obligatory late summer soiree hosted by the concertmaster, Kay stayed close to me. Her hand often found mine, whether we were together on the couch talking to one of the percussion players or standing in the kitchen with the hostess, admiring the new cabinets. When I glanced at Kay, she’d meet my eyes and show me the tip of her tongue and the hint of a smile.
Chatting with the conductor, wine glasses in hand, my arm went around her, hand resting lightly on her hip. Without missing a beat, her hand found mine and pushed it down to her butt.
Standing behind her as we said our goodbyes, Kay leaned back, her generous curves pressing into my crotch. I know that sounds sluttish, but she did it with discretion and aplomb, all the while complimenting the décor and the host’s hospitality as she induced my erection.
In the car, her face half-lighted by streetlamp, I leaned in to kiss her. As our lips touched, she guided my hand down her side, lifted a haunch and slid it under one of her round cheeks. Like a good writer, she had been showing, not telling: She wanted me to do her in the ass.
Kay was a cellist. Her pedigree included Pablo Casals, Jacqueline du Pré, Mstislav Rostropovich, and Yo-Yo Ma. Like those masters, she exuded class, style and refinement. Kay isn’t a goof like me who makes a living by buzzing his lips and blowing in a brass tube.
Breaking off the kiss, she moved her mouth along my cheek to my ear: “Cole, I want you to do me in the ass.”
Luckily, it was only a ten minute drive to my apartment.