Category: M/F Fiction

17

Fiction / M/F Fiction

A Walled Reunion: An Erotic Short

Leaning against the barn, wearing my ragged jean skirt and old gifted boots, I waited. The scent of dirt, horses, and hay filled the air. Our ritual had been to meet here every Friday at the end of the workday for the hottest sex imaginable. Allen was a creature of habit but was he ten years later? A truck motor echoed in the air as it rumbled over the gravel road. My heart fluttered. As the vehicle came closer, it slowed and stopped within several feet of me. Through the windshield, I saw the face I missed. Allen stared at...

9

Fiction / M/F Fiction

Sounds Sexy, Right? A Writer’s Dream

I think writers are always looking for something to help the creative muse. This story idea came from an overheard conversation, a writer’s dream if you will. I captured it quickly and the mantra stuck in my mind. Sounds sexy, right? The hallway chatter from the other women caught my attention. It was odd because they were never this chatty on a writer’s meeting night. “Why is everyone so buzzed?” “Cora, don’t you read anything we send out?” Lulu glared at me. “It’s our new special event night.”  She shoved a flyer in my hand. “Here.” I stared at it....

16

Fiction / M/F Fiction

Take Me For A Ride

“I have something I want to show you.” I opened the car door and plopped into the passenger seat of John’s truck. “That’s what all the men say.” I waggled my eyebrows. It had been a while since we had truck sex. John looked straight ahead and gripped the steering wheel. “No, seriously, Suz. I want you to see this and give me an opinion.” Intensity flew off John like a Cat 4 hurricane, laced with an unusual side of edgy. “Sure. Show me.” “We have to go to it.” He started the ignition. His nervous energy bounced around the...

14

Fiction / M/F Fiction

A Jasmine Bath and You

I missed last week’s post for Masturbation Monday due to sickness. My effort was there, but my body couldn’t get the story finished. This is what I crafted for Adrian Kenny’s picture. I sat on the lumpy mattress to check my messages. After two weeks of hotel rooms, I hit my overwhelmed and tired point. I had to change jobs. Where is George’s nightly text? I scrolled through until I found it. “Is the picture what you wanted?” I typed my reply. “No photo.” George wasn’t forgetful. The text box opened. “Lin, wait.” “You need me here to send a...

23

Fiction / M/F Fiction

Ragnar The Magnificent

Thanksgiving events with non-erotica writing friends always spark lively discussions. Sometimes, I think they create a plan for when we are together. One of my friends asked me to write a specific fantasy. I sat between her and her partner as she created otherworldly elements, for me to include. I hope I have done Ragnar the Magnificent and Cinnamon a solid turn! Enjoy your tale crafted just for you, my friends. You know who you are! “What’s with the shopping bag, Red?” Alexander peeked inside and pulled out a Viking helmet. “Props for our sex fantasy.” “Our sex fantasy?” I...

8

Fiction / M/F Fiction

The Orange Blossom Special

“You want me to meet you where?” My gravelly voice echoed in my tired mind. “It’s too early.” “Winston. I have a surprise. Be at the grove in fifteen minutes.” The grove? Why did Stacie need us there this early? The workers wouldn’t be there yet. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes and realized it was almost sunrise. The things I do for this woman. I dressed and headed for my pickup truck. The bumpy, back road woke me up, and as I came around the last curve , Isaw light peeping through the stand of...

13

Fiction / M/F Fiction

Purple Elements

What creative sexual genius would Violet have for me today? Blindfolded and bound naked to our playing chair in our boudoir, its icy metal kept me at attention. How long had I waited? The thought of time heightened my senses, and my body needed a workout. The burning question was how Vi would work me and if she’d let me orgasm today? A potent blast of lavender filled the room. The intensity carried me like a magic carpet to the land outside our old house. Memories. We ran through the fields together and dropped to the ground where Violet sucked...

4

Fiction / M/F Fiction

Red and the Wolf

Travel seems to tap into my creative streak. My trip to the oldest town in the United States, Saint Augustine again proves that true. An inn and a sexy man walking through inspired this tale. It happened while I sat at the dining room table of the historic bed-and-breakfast inn. Because the check-in area was a tiny space, the owner, Mrs. Lopez had asked me to wait in the combination parlor and dining room until she finished with the guests before me. The scent of coffee and pancakes lingered. The period décor reflected in the ornate furniture, colorful ceramic dishware,...

11

Fiction / M/F Fiction / Sisters In Smut

The Cowboy

During the Sisters In Smut Convention, three erotica authors walked into a bar and spotted a cowboy, an angel, and a devil. Caught up in the reverie, three stories were born. This one is mine. Chuck had finished his smoky set, deep and full, much like the cigar scent in the historic Palace Salon. He balanced the guitar on his lap as he slipped the harmonica neck rack off his head. Words of life had flown off Chuck’s tongue in his trademark ebony sound as he strummed those chords and tapped his cowboy boots. But when he introduced his sensuous...

4

Fiction / M/F Fiction

Icy Hot

The chill in the room continued to drop. My teeth chattered, but I had to stay focused. Rod had never used temperature this way to ramp up my desire. If I wiggled my foot, I touched the cold wrought iron bedpost. If I jiggled my hands, the icy metal of the handcuffs set me off. I imagined that even my warm breath made a little cloud in the air as I exhaled. What do I do now? The cloth blindfold was the only thing that could have provided warmth, but all it did was taunt me with the idea of...

4

Fiction / M/F Fiction

Rein Me In

I found Sonya on our bed, centered in a circle of disarrayed books with her magic wand humming. I moved to my designated place, the armchair at the foot of the bed. From there, like a patron of fine art, I studied the view, appreciating the nuance. Her foot attempted to hold her in place on the headboard of our bed like an anchor to this life. Sonya was lost in a trance, lost in ropes, or lips, probing or licking. She possessed a heightened skill of sexual empathy. Through the words in a story, she stepped into a character’s...