The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 17: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women (5 page)

“You naughty girl,” he said pulling her down for a kiss. He could taste himself on her tongue, in her mouth. Oh how he wanted to be in her. How he longed to sink inside her. She gasped as she felt his cock pressing hard against her opening and without any kind of warning whatsoever, he was inside her. Sinking deep into her very hotness, loving the feeling of her hot wetness engulfing him. She gasped again when he pulled out only to push himself back inside her.

Candice had never been so aroused in her life. It was like living the life of a porn star. She closed her eyes and threw her head back as he filled her. She loved the feeling of him taking her, claiming her. She let out a low moan as he began to move in and out of her, slowly, steadily. His erection was persistent. By the way he was going, she could tell that he would blow over any time now. She was ready for him. She wanted to feel him blowing over, to feel him filling her up again like he had done so many times before.

Ash went on thrusting into her as he finally pulled the dress down. He smiled when he noticed that she did not have a bra either. She never really did need one but seriously, she left the house practically in a drape and heels. “Ever so sexy,” he thought as he took one nipple inside his mouth and sucked. This time, it was Candice’s turn to begin holding her moans in. He held her other breast in his hand, kneading and squeezing it gently as he worked her nipple in his mouth.

He withdrew his mouth and briefly flicked his tongue on the now hard and distended nipple making her groan. She clearly loved this. He could tell by the way she pressed herself down on his crotch, taking his long cock inside her depths. She had become the one running the show even though Ash was the one who had started it. She moaned over and over again as he thrust upwards, his cock unyielding. Her nipples were still at his mercy, his tongue viciously attacking, his fingers almost violently flicking.

She suddenly gasped when he withdrew his hands and mouth from her nipples and grabbed a handful of her hair. He thrust into her with continuing persistence a she looked into her eyes. His pupils were dilated from his lust from the feeling he had being so deep inside such a wet pussy. “You. Are. Mine,” he said thrusting into her with every word.

“I’ve always…b een,” she said in a low voice as she felt her body betraying her. She tried holding back but it was too late. She was already there. Her pussy squeezed hard on his cock as her body erupted in violent spasms. Her vagina squeezing on his cock was too much for him to handle. He felt himself erupting deep inside her. He released her hair and buried his face in it as he went on thrusting into her as his orgasm rode him on.

By this time, she was crying out, not caring whether Pablo or Franco or whatever his name was could hear her. When he was done, she was still shaking in his arms, the obvious remnant of their violent orgasm. She pulled away and looked at him. “Now, will you tell me?” she asked panting. Just then, Pablo knocked gently on the partition. They then realized that the limo was at a standstill.

“We’re here, Mr. Morgan,” Pablo called out. Ash smiled at Candice as she climbed off him.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out,” he said as he pulled his pants on.

***

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by
Carla Burke

I looked down the aisle, my eyes focusing on my soon to be husband at the end. The music hadn’t quite started yet and there was a gentle buzz of chatter coming from the rows of people waiting for my wedding to start. The large wooden pews were occupied by mine and George’s family and close friends; all of them ready to watch the biggest moment of my life.

George stood straight by the vicars alter, his legs moved nervously underneath him. His best man had one hand on his shoulder for support and hopefully not to stop him running. We had been looking forward to this day for years and now it was finally here. My past was behind me and my future stood mere metres away.

I took my first step forward down the marble path and the wedding march started immediately. The spectators hushed quickly and all eyes turned to me, except the deep browns ones of George. I took in a large breath and pushed my second foot forwards, bringing me even closer to him.

My eyes drifted around the room, everyone was dressed in their finest and all of them were wearing different shades of gold and red. They matched my golden laced dress and the deep red of the bridesmaid’s gowns. Even the rows of flowers leading my way had specks of red amidst the white roses.

The sight looked as though it was out of a fairy tale, everything I had ever dreamt of; almost. Soft light from the summer sun drifted in through the stained glass windows illuminating my path in a warm red glow. I took a few more steps forward, letting the bridesmaids carry my train behind me; I was almost half way up the aisle now.

George still stood with his back to me; his gentle brown curls just reached his starched white collar. His suit was the deepest black with tails that almost reached the floor. It was more his taste than my own, but I couldn’t deny his one decision on our big day.

Deciding to turn to my guests one last time before reaching him I shifted my gaze. Dozens of smiling faces met me, a few with tears already in their eyes. The image made me chuckle slightly, even I wasn’t crying yet. I recognised every face immediately; that was until my eyes reached the back of the room. My heart thudded in my chest as a pair of piercing blue eyes met my own; the same pair I thought I would never see again.

My feet slowed along with the rest of my body; time seemed to stand still as I continued to stare. The train of people behind me struggled to match my sluggish pace. I whipped my head around quickly, trying to disguise the anguish on my face. I breathed in hastily and composed myself to walk the last three metres to George. I couldn’t look back now as much as my entire body and being begged me to, I couldn’t see those eyes again.

If George noticed me staring at another man in that way he would be more hurt than even I could imagine; but there was only one person that could make my heart beat so fast and hard and he wasn’t stood at the end of the aisle waiting for me. I could feel him watching my back as if judging what I was going to do.

I couldn’t let my family down or George, I had to go through with this wedding; my momentary disillusion would have to be forgotten. I finally reached the end of the aisle, aligning myself next to George. His face beamed happiness as his eyes raked my body, searching the length of my dress.

“Charlotte,” he breathed, almost inaudibly. I smiled back at him, hiding all doubt from my face as I searched his. He was handsome, his face defined by the mass of brown curls that surrounded it and his eyes were deep and mellow. He was comfort and happiness but perhaps that was not enough.

My mind still swirled with images of the man at the back of the church; the man with short black hair and eyes sharper than the most fearsome thunder. He was the person that could make every hair on my body stand to attention with a single glance and the only man that could make me doubt my commitment to George. But the most important question was why he was here when I hadn’t seen him for over ten years.

I spoke my parts with confidence and fake interest, giving the appearance to my guests that was I listening. Even George didn’t notice my lack of enthusiasm and he was supposed to know me better than anyone. Well he thought he did and I had convinced myself that he was supposed to be here with me. Since I had reached him I hadn’t dared to look upon the crowds for fear of finding the eyes I longed for. I just let my mind swirl with images and thoughts of my black haired man, whilst trying my best not to show it. Before I knew it the final words were forming in my mouth.

“I do,” I whispered as if to myself instead of the crowded room. I finally allowed myself to look, if only for confirmation that I had done the correct thing. I turned my head away from my new husband and searched the pews desperately. When I couldn’t find his face amongst the crowd I tried again; after my third and frantic attempt I gave up. He was gone and I had probably imagined him in the first place.

I felt a soft pressure on my lips as George kissed me slowly, snapping me back to reality. I pushed a smile onto my face and kissed him back, as a good wife should. After all we were married now and I was his and always would be. A great cheer erupted from the pews as everybody rose to their feet clapping wildly. Every face showed clear delight, not a single eye was dry.

Even George had a few tears running freely down his face; it seemed that I was the only one kept from this moment of happiness. I was the one person that was supposed to cry at my happy day and new husband, but the only thing that made me threaten tears was the absence of the man from my past. As a child I had dreamt that he would be in George’s place, until the day I was forced to forget about his existence.

Before I knew what was happening I was being escorted out of the church by a swarm of people. All of our guests piled out of the building ready for the wedding pictures to be taken. I gazed around in a daze, letting them push me along with them. George was somewhere behind me, being clapped on the back by his brothers; something they always did. A few of my bridesmaids were surrounding me, herding me towards the exit.

When we finally hit the warm summer air I searched around again for the black haired man. My search came up short when only my family and friends met my examining eyes. I sighed before rearranging my face into what I hoped was a happy smile befitting a newlywed. George caught up with me and encased his hands in my own; the normal surge of comfort flooded through me as he dragged me towards the photographer.

We took all the normal pictures like they do at weddings in the wide open grounds of the church. From the ones I paid attention to we were stood in front of rose bushes and flower beds to be joined by different variations of our families. The final one was taken with all of us in it, grouped tightly together to fit us all in.

After the last picture everyone parted to head off to the reception venue, a couple of people stopped to hug me on their way. George kissed me lightly before heading off to his car; I was to travel in the vintage white limo that had brought me here with my bridesmaids. I brushed my brown ringlets from my face and paced the gardens, waiting for the driver to tell me it was time to leave.

Disrupted from my mixed thoughts the photographer tapped me lightly on the shoulder. I turned to him confused; I had figured he had left a few minutes ago with the rest of the guests. He was young with spiky blonde hair and a semi casual suit; I smiled at him warmly, he was clearly nervous for some reason.

“Um Ma'am, I thought you would like to see the group picture, I developed it quickly in my van so you could have a look. Most brides want to see their pictures as soon as possible, or so I have heard,” he said quickly, stumbling over a few of the words. I nodded at him politely; perhaps this was his first job. I took the picture from his hands, curious this time to see his work.

The picture was slightly blurry from being printed so quickly but the work was good. I handed it back to him, nodding in approval, when suddenly a sharp blue colour shone from the paper. I snatched the picture roughly back from his hands and inspected it further. Clear as day was my man stood at the very back of the group, slightly hidden behind what looked like one of George’s many uncles. He was wearing a light grey suit, my preferred choice. I glanced back up at the photographer; barely noting the terrified expression on his face.

“Where did this man go?” I almost shouted, pointing to the man at the back.

“I don’t know, he left just as quickly as he arrived,” the photographer stumbled. I smiled at him even though my heart was hammering.

“OK, I’ll keep this photo if you don’t mind,” I said. He shook his head before quickly leaving, probably scared that I would have another outburst. I was struggling to contain myself now; I had no idea what I was feeling other than confusion. Why would he just reappear and not say anything; I hadn’t even noticed him sneaking in to the picture.

The sound of a horn made me jump slightly; I really had to get a grip of my nerves before I got to the reception. I moved towards the waiting car and got in to it willingly. I needed to sit down and rearrange my thoughts. William had been gone for ten years; he had disappeared without telling anyone so why was he here now, at my wedding?

The ride to the reception venue was painfully quick, especially with my bridesmaids chatting away the entire time. I couldn’t pull myself in to the happy mood I should be in, not after the photo which was tucked away safely in my purse. Nobody else had recognised William that I had known of, but then I was the only person who was ever that close to him. I was examining this in too much detail, maybe he had just heard I was getting married and came to wish me well.

I convinced myself this was the case and slowly pulled myself out of the limo. The increased weight on my heels made them scream out in pain, I really wasn’t the type of person to wear heels, or dresses for that point. I preferred trainers and jeans any day to the back breaking heels and long dress. I felt the weight shift slightly as my maid of honour and best friend lifted the long train of my dress.

Sparing a quick smile for her we walked towards the entrance. The castle was grand and far too elaborate for my liking, but then this is what was expected when you have a bit of money to spend on your wedding. Although even I couldn’t deny that it was beautiful when illuminated by thousands of small white fairy lights. The same bouquets that were in the church lined the way to the large castle doors as the sun began to set behind it. It made for a spectacular view amongst the countryside surrounding the castle.

We reached the entrance and the butler pulled the large wooden door open for us to enter. As soon as it was open loud thumps came from within. The music echoed off the walls, they had obviously started the party without us. Not that I minded too much but it would have been nice if they had waited for me to arrive. I made my way down the large hall through the main lobby.

The walls were decorated with medieval paintings and wall hangings, adding to the effect. We were supposed to be staying here tonight, along with some of the guests who wanted to; then tomorrow we would head off to our honeymoon. Of course we had booked the largest bedroom, overlooking the grounds outside, it was one of the reasons I had chosen this place.

I couldn’t help but wonder whether or not William would be staying here tonight, but then it was doubtful that he even knew the reception was here. The noise got louder as we approached the door to the function room; it was almost unbearably loud when I pushed the heavy wooden frame open. The party was in full swing and most people were already up on the dance floor, dancing along to some kind of rock music George had obviously chosen. I looked around the room but I couldn’t find him, he must be talking to some guests.

I walked in and a few people came up to me muttering congratulations for the wedding. I barely listened to them, brushing them off quickly by saying I was looking for my husband. It wasn’t quite a lie, but I was also looking for someone else; someone with the brightest eyes I had ever seen. Neither men met my line of sight; the large amount of people hid them well. I perched myself in the nearest seat I could find; my bridesmaid had made their excuses and left to find their partners for a dance. I would normally have happily joined them but I didn’t quite feel up to it.

Two hands encased my face, covering my sight. I jumped in my seat, not expecting the sudden contact. This caused the man behind me to let out a small laugh, covering me in his alcohol coated breath. I wrinkled my nose at the disgusting smell and turned to see who it was. My husband stood behind me, clearly already steaming drunk from the free bar. I couldn’t hide my disgust as he stumbled out a greeting to me; each word was soaked in alcohol. He had always liked a drink, by far his worst feature.

I pushed him away and headed back out the way I had come in. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him when he was in this state, let alone dance with him. It was probably his brother’s fault; they always managed to get him drunk. I’d have thought they would have some kind of control on his wedding day.