Read The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 18: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women Online

Authors: Pauline Orr,Diana Vega,Carla Burke,Evelyn Hunt,Inez Eaton,Emma Bishop,Cynthia Conley,Bonnie Robles,Sue Harrington,Kim Wilkerson

The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 18: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women (8 page)

BOOK: The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 18: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women
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Liz felt the pressure begin to build and was torn between letting herself go or trying to prolong this most wonderful experience. "Spank me," she said, "Just lightly."

 

He did and at that moment Liz felt the pressure build to an almost instant fever pitch. She was going to come but somehow fought it off for the moment.

 

"Your cock," she said, "In me. Heavenly."

 

"Oh, Liz," Jack moaned as he gripped her ass hard with both hands, "I'm-"

 

"Wow, I feel it," she answered, feeling him explode in her. It was warm and somehow knowing he'd come for her turned her on all the more. She imagined for a moment more of his slippery shaft inside her and felt herself pop.

 

She shook, and dug her nails into his shoulders as wave after wave rolled over her. She slowed her ride on him, but somehow made it more sensual all the same. After a seeming eternity, the waves finally subsided and she collapsed, letting her head fall on her shoulder.

 

"Goodness," she said, trying to recover her breath but suddenly enjoying his post coital caresses, which were gentle and loving. Being used to Curtis' rather quick exits from their lovemaking — or actually fucking, given how much different being with Jack was — Liz relaxed and enjoyed the attention.

 

Jack was a good man. Even if this was their only time together like this Liz knew she didn't want to miss or forget a moment.

 

After what seemed like an hour but was probably only a couple of minutes she whispered, "We should get going, love." Yikes, she said love? "We've been gone awhile."

 

Slowly they got themselves put back together and Liz was pleased to see that neither really looked the worse for wear in spite of what they'd just done. They agreed Jack would go out first and, if asked, say that she was sick and he was helping out. She'd follow a few minutes later.

 

The plan worked, though it really wasn't that difficult. In their absence, the others had left to get ready. Only Curtis remained, and he was so out of it he wouldn't be able to remember if a bomb went off.

 

Liz and Jack shared a quick kiss and then he too departed, leaving her to get ready and try to get Curtis to be somewhat presentable in two short hours time.

 

Somehow she'd managed to do it, having decided to get him started first. Eventually he was put together somewhat, though she'd been unable to get a tie on the boy, and he still wasn't sober enough to do so.

 

Leaving him on the couch, she went through her ablutions, and found herself wishing Jack was her date tonight instead of Curtis. She found that thought inspiring, and giving herself one last look in the mirror thought she was ready for her big night.

 

She turned to slip on her pumps and looked dejectedly at Curtis, who actually appeared rather sullen, which made it a good probability that he was sober for the most part now. And ready for his surprise.

 

"You coming?" was all she said as she went to the door.

 

An hour or so later, the event was in full swing and dinner had run its course. Liz was still feeling wonderful after her run in with Jack. She made suggestive eye contact with him a few times, but didn't want to push her luck and be caught. She sipped her wine in a very ladylike manner — at least if you asked her — while her Curtis had downed another six-pack during dinner.

 

Thankfully, he was still coherent and merely buzzed for the gallery presentation. As the lights dimmed and Claire hooked up her iPad to get the show started, Liz was torn between excitement and a weird uneasiness. How would this go over?

 

A few minutes in, Liz realized just what a good job Claire had done in making all the video and photo edits meld together seamlessly. Given that it was mainly from things the sisters either videoed or photographed with a smartphone — sometimes while rather drunk — made it even more remarkable.

 

Liz found herself reliving the events of the year as they flashed over the big screen. All of her friends and all the great memories were right there for all to see, though if you missed one or two everyone got the file to keep anyway.

 

Suddenly the hall gasped and fell silent, with the only sound coming from the soundtrack of Claire's presentation. There, on the screen, was Curtis. He was naked except for a blue bra, his face contorted mid-orgasm, and his hands working himself over.

 

Unlike most of the visuals, which were there for a second then gone, Curtis' stayed longer. Finally it was replaced with more of the expected fare, only to be replaced a second later with another of Curtis, but this time zoomed into just his upper half.

 

Now the silence turned to whispers, then slowly a chuckle or two was heard. Finally sniggers and catcalls started to come out.

 

Liz turned to Curtis, who was deathly pale and seemed frozen in time, his hand still holding a glass of beer halfway to his mouth. He didn't look pained so much as bewildered.

 

"I didn't know you were into that type of thing," Liz said to him, just loudly enough for the table to hear her. "I'm not," she said slowly, letting her engagement ring drop with a slight plunking sound into his beer.

 

She looked over at Jack as the presentation resumed more in line with the original theme.

 

Their eyes locked and she was almost sure that he winked at her.

 

***

[Hope you liked the story and don't forget your
8 complimentary
books, which you may find a download link to on the last page of this collection, just after the 11th story ends. Now, on to the next story!]

Examining the Examiner

 

by
Bonnie Robles

Camilla Van Hauser tucked a strand of her brown locks behind her ear as she looked at the dead body on the sidewalk. She loved her job to bits but this part was what she hated the most — seeing innocent people dead sometimes for no good reason.

 

“Petechial hemorrhage suggesting strangulation. The wound on her forehead was definitely pre-mortem,” she said as she examined the body of the young woman on the floor. “I would suggest strangulation as the official cause of death,” she said before looking up at the detective. “I think my work here is done,” she said again as she removed her gloves and got to her feet.

 

“Dr. Van Hauser. A good day to you,” Detective Harold Jameson said. She turned around and flashed him a smile.

 

“You too,” she said as she packed her bag.

 

“Did you just get here?” he asked looking at her. She smiled and shook her head.

 

“Actually, you are late and I am already done,” she said as she began walking away.

 

“Well, don’t forget to fax me your finding,” he called after her. She turned around.

 

“See you at the precinct, detective.” 

 

“When are the two of you going to stop this cat and mouse game you have going on and simply do what needs to be done?” Harold’s partner Pam Spacey asked. He looked at her and smiled.

 

“We are here because of a murder, Pam. Concentrate,” he said in an attempt to change the subject.

 

Harold Jameson was the newest addition to the 19
th
Precinct. He had moved to the city from England and everything about him screamed British. The accent, the clothes and even the car he drove. Harold was a man of thirty five years who had special experience of serving in the tactical team in Pakistan.

 

He was not only raggedly handsome, but also a talented and greatly gifted individual. Thanks to his service in the army and at some point in the federal government, Harold was fluent in five languages and had great skills in martial arts. He was tall, maybe six one, and had a great body.

 

The first time Camilla laid eyes on him, she had actually thought of him as a model rather than a detective. He had a great run in the tactical force in Pakistan but after thirteen years of service, his mother’s health took a turn or the worse and he had to stay home and look after her.

 

His mother, an American, had met his father on one of her trips to England. She was a journalist and travelling the world was just a part of her, but after the birth of Harold, their marriage didn't survive. He wanted her to quit and be a stay at home mom but she knew that she could juggle her career and still manage to look after Harold just fine.

 

This argument was the beginning of the end for their marriage and just like that, Harold found himself in a crossroads, having to make difficult choices. He did enjoy having two birthday parties and more presents at Christmas, but perhaps what really drove him to the war was the cold atmosphere that he had called home all his life.

 

His story was the extreme opposite when it came to Camilla’s own. She was the youngest of three children. Her two older brothers were in finance and real estate like their parents.

 

She was the only one in the family who ever took an interest in medicine and when she graduated with a degree in neurology, she was keen bent on beginning her own practice. There was always something about self-reliance that tickled her fancy. However, all this changed in the second year of her residency when she made a fatal mistake with a patient.

 

A misdiagnosis led to one of her patients dying and she never forgave herself. Despite her family’s unending support, she decided to walk out of neurology and work in pathology. Everyone was not only shocked with her decision but also disappointed. Though she was cleared to go back to work after the investigation, she still felt that she had to walk out of the healing business.

 

“You cannot kill what is already dead,” Camilla said any time when anyone asked her why she would not consider going back to the OR.

 

***

 

Camilla’s life in the 19
th
Precinct was what many may call ordinary. She would be called in to a crime scene, do her thing, go back to the lab, do more tests and then go home. On special days, some of the detectives and beat cops would go for a drink at the local ‘watering hole’.

 

Her life lightened up a little when she first noticed detective Harold Jameson in the precinct. She was not sure what it was, maybe his body or that sexy British accent. Either way, she wanted to rip his clothes off every time she saw him.

 

The fact that he wore the best cologne she had ever smelled on a man made the situation a bit more difficult for her. She like everyone else in the precinct knew that he had noticed her as well but was either too proud to admit it or simply too stupid.

 

“Hi, Pam. Jameson around?” she asked later on that evening. “I wanted to drop off this report,” she added showing her the file she had in her hands. Pam smiled.

 

“Of course you did,” Pam said under her breath. “No, Camilla. He already retired for the day,” she added looking at her wrist watch. “You know, we are not fooled by whatever charade the two of you are trying out,” she added. Camilla smiled and walked towards her desk. She placed the file on her desk and leaned forward.

 

“I don’t know what his deal is, Pam. I gave him chances but he did nothing so, I moved the fuck on,” Camilla said sternly. “That is what I wanted to tell him,” she added before turning around.

 

“Wait? Who’s the new catch?” Pam asked. Camilla smiled to herself as she walked out. Typical Pam. Of course, she was not about to tell her anything lest she heared a different version of the story by the morning.

 

The end of the next day was one she waited for with utter longing. Though she was not very outgoing, she was excited. This would be the first time she would be going out in a very long time, months actually.

 

She had finally decided to give up on the British heart throb. He had made it clear that he was just a tease. Just another man out to play with her heart and her life. And it was clear that she was not getting any younger. She was not about to make another mistake with men. She was too bright for this dumb shit.

 

***

 

When she got to the restaurant Sloane had suggested, she immediately noticed his handsome features. He was not in the bullet proof jacket that he always wore any time she saw him. There was no gun in his hands. There was no helmet… there was no black suit that screamed FBI. It was just plain Sloane.

 

Dinner was in a word, amazing, that is until a call from Jameson came. At first, she felt inclined to ignore the call but on the fifth ring, she could tell that even Sloane was getting agitated.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she said as she picked up the phone. Sloane nodded and smiled at her. He understood, at least she thought he did. “Van Hauser,” she said avoiding looking at Sloane.

 

“Dr. Van Hauser. Detective Harold Jameson.” She took a long deep breath.

 

“What can I do for you detective?” she asked.

 

“I need you to come to the precinct right away,” Detective Jameson said. Camilla looked at him in surprise.

 

“Now? It is late,” she said in a whisper.

 

“I know Dr. Van Hauser, but duty calls,” Harold said before hanging up. Camilla gave Sloane a disappointed look.

 

“It’s okay,” he said looking at her. “You should know how many times that has happened to me,” he said smiling.

 

***

 

Detective Jameson looked at Camilla as she walked into his office. He could tell that she was a little pissed off being called in like this especially this late at night.

 

“Dr. Van Hauser. Good to see you as always,” he said as she took a seat.

 

“Detective Jameson,” she said without a smile.

 

“I see you brought me the report,” he said looking at the file in her hands. She took a deep breath and put the file on his desk.

 

“This is the same report I faxed you yesterday and I as I always do, faxed you another copy this morning because your careless secretary always manages to lose the first one,” she said. He sensed anger in her voice.

 

“Is it really?” Harry said. She smiled and leaned back in her seat.

 

“Case of Veronika Petrovic, twenty two year old Russian national, here on a student visa. Time of death, Wednesday ten PM. Cause of death severed carotid probably caused by a double edged blade, pocket knife maybe.” She crossed her arms over her chest and eyeballed him. As she recited the case she knew ever so well, Harry had been going through the report and was surprised that she had actually recited the entire report. He looked up at her and smiled. He was impressed.

 

“I see you know your stuff,” he said with a smile.

 

“I am sure you are surprised. After all, I have only been an ME a mere twelve years,” she said cynically. He let out a laugh and placed the file back on the table.

 

“Why am I here, Jameson?” she asked. He looked at her and for a minute, he was a bit tongue tied as he looked at her looking lovely as usual. From what she wore he could tell that he had probably interrupted her evening plans. She was in a green fitting sleeveless pencil dress and a pair of black soled lime green heels. Her hair, which she had always worn in a bun while on the job, was worn down.

 

“Did I pull you from a previous engagement?” he asked looking at her long freshly shaven legs. She smiled and ran her fingers through her hair.

 

“I don’t think that matters anymore, Jameson, or does it?” she paused and waited to hear his answer.

 

“May I ask who it was?” Harry asked with a smile.

 

“Why do you want to know so badly?” Camilla said, still holding her gaze.

 

“I saw you with that FBI dude the other guy. I could never really get his name. Flynn? Blaine?”

 

She shook her head irritated. “Sloane.”

 

“Sloane. That’s the name,” he said snapping his fingers. She uncrossed her arms and stood up.

 

“Detective Jameson, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave,” she said standing up.

 

“I don’t think you need to go just yet,” he said standing up. She turned around angrily and looked at him again.

 

“Why, Jameson. What do you want? What the fuck do you fucking want?” she asked angrily. He said a silent prayer thanking God no one was in the office. “Cat got your tongue Jameson?” He looked at her still quiet. He wanted to say so much but he couldn't. For some reason, this one woman always seemed to have this effect on him.

 

“For once in your life Harold Jameson, be a man and tell me why you called me here. If not, I will walk out and so God help me if I ever answer your call again,” she said, one hand on the door handle. Harry walked around the table and quickly made his way to where she was and kissed her.

 

She pulled away and looked at him in surprise before slapping him hard across the face. She lifted her hand to slap him again but he held her hand above her head. She raised her other one but he held this one as well. She looked at him in surprise as he stood in front of her pinning her against the door. “I told you to say it,” she hissed.

 

“If I have to tell you now then you are not as bright as I thought Dr. Van Hauser,” he said looking at her. She jerked and tried to free her hand but he was too strong for her. He brought his face down and kissed her again. He was not surprised when she kissed him back; after all, it was only a matter of time till she let her pride go.

 

As they stood there kissing, their mouths violently crashing against each other, she felt her knees go weak. Here was someone who had literally given her hell just because he was not confident enough to let her know how he felt and he had the audacity to call her from her date. A promising date at that. Now here she was, at the mercy of Harold Cory Jameson, a man she had desired for so long.

 

She closed her eyes as she kissed him, feeling every part of his mouth. She ran her tongue along the insides of his cheeks making him shiver. He slowly pulled away and looked at her. “Dr. Van Hauser, where did you learn that?” he asked in a whisper. She smiled.

BOOK: The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 18: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women
6.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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