101 EROTICA STORIES (55 page)

A scratchy sound emerged from his throat when he saw what she was wearing under her pants – a teeny, tiny black lacy thong which showed her neatly trimmed hair. He was salivating in desire.

He was trying to be gentle with her but it would seem that was not what he was doing because she raised her head and, with a pleading expression in her eyes, told him, “Please don’t tear it, please.”

That stopped him for a second. Then he decided that he’ll take it slow. Damon unbuckled the belt of his pants and pushed it down.

Victoria gasped at the thick ridge which was tenting his cotton boxers. Her hands had a life of its own, apparently, because it went straight to grip the thick shaft. Feeling it through the cotton of his boxers wasn’t enough though. She then slipped her hands in and then touched him. Damon’s eyes closed shut, a pained groan escaped from his throat.

“I want to go slow, baby. You’re making it difficult.”

“We’ll take it slow later.” Victoria answered, feeling powerful by the second, knowing that she can still elicit that sort of reaction from him.

The boxers went off while her panties slipped off as well. Damon recalled how sensitive her breasts were – oh, he knew that so well – so he shoved Victoria’s shirt up, exposed her breasts and started suckling on her nipples greedily. The bulbous head of his shaft was slowly inching its way in her very wet center, teasing her.

Victoria’s moans were growing louder, he hands were clutching at his back, scraping the skin with her nails. “Now, Damon!” she screamed out. And he plunged into her.

Her whole body arched up at his entry. She didn’t verbalize it but she missed this too. But it wasn’t just the joining of bodies that she pined for. Her husband, the late Anthony Chandler, was too old to have given her this. They had sex, yes, but it was more of a duty than anything else. Her other lovers were pretty good in bed, too. She enjoyed it with them. But nothing could compare to what Damon was doing to her now or making her feel.

And he proved that.

He was thrusting his cock hard into her. “Oh God baby,” he moaned. “You are so fucking tight. You feel so good!”

The only thing she could do was clutch onto his shoulders, her legs sliding up and around his waist to hitch her body higher – to let him in deeper into her.

While his mouth was fastened on her neck, whispering sweet love words in her ears, his hand went to her clit, rubbing it gently. Her passage was tightening around his cock, milking him. And then he felt the spasms starting.

 Helpless, knowing that she would climax soon; she can only groan his name out loud. “Damon! I’m-”

He tried to soothe her, but he knew that he was close to bursting as well. He didn’t know if she was on the pill – he was too much in a frenzy to even put on the condom on his wallet. But that didn’t matter. For a second there, he wanted her to have his baby. Imagining her body swelling with his seed was such an erotic sight for him that he spurted into her, even when Victoria’s hands were pushing his hips up.

***

The air inside the truck sizzled with the aftermath of their frantic, almost possessed lovemaking. It left them both sated, true, but not a word was said while they righted their clothes and the car as well.

Victoria’s head rested on the cushioned back of the seat, tilted to the side, while she looked out at the haze of dark streets and shadows of the trees. Although it would be nice to fill the silence, there really was nothing to say so she shut her eyes because tears were about to fall.

After his wedding, she moved to the New York and tried her hand in odd jobs, after all, she wasn’t able to finish any degree and she really didn’t know what else to do. It was pure luck when, while waiting tables in a nice high class restaurant, Anthony Chandler, a theater producer, walked in and saw her.

He said he found her pretty. But the reason why he hired her to be a stage manager in his production company was because of her efficiency. When he ordered his food and drinks – and he was very picky and detailed – he said that only Victoria got it right.

He probably married her for her efficiency as well. He was fond of her and she reciprocated that as well. But love was out of the equation. Her heart was dead and Anthony Chandler’s own was only for the stage.

But that didn’t matter. When he died, he left his money and the nice sprawling apartment to his two children. He gave a huge amount of money to Victoria as well – not as much as his children – but that doesn’t matter. What mattered was that he left the management of the production company to her. And it continues to flourish until now.

And now, she’s back here to fix the house. She wasn’t expecting to bump into Damon at all so it was baffling that they had sex in his truck just an hour after setting eyes on each other. Damn, old habits die hard, didn’t they?

She must have dozed off a bit because when she opened her eyes, Damon was already carrying her out of the car and into the wide porch of the house.

Although tired, and a bit disoriented, she tried to move from him. “Put me down. The receptionist -”

“Will shut up if she knows what’s good for her.” he continued.

The white-haired woman, Amy, opened the door for them. Her eyes widened at seeing Damon there with Victoria. She angled her head to peek at their back. “Your husband-”

“Is sleeping at the bar,” Damon once again cut in. “And he’s not her husband.”

Amy’s eyebrow went up while her mouth formed a silent “Oh.”

“Put me down Ronsard.” she growled low. “I can walk perfectly well.”

Other women would have feigned sleep, she knew, in this situation. Although there were no outright gossip about her and Damon in the past, there were suspicions. But they were very careful. They were the veritable strangers at day, lovers by night.

She wasn’t about to let tongues wag now, especially when Amy Edwards was one of the biggest rumor-mongers, she knew.

When she pushed at him, scrambling off, Damon allowed her to her feet. But he kept her locked beside him, his arms slipping around her waist.

“Do you have your keys with you?” he asked Victoria, and at the shake of her head, he glanced at the older woman. “Her keys, please, Ms. Edwards.”

Amy rushed to the desk to retrieve the keys, but her eyes were on them – on Damon’s around her. Damn, this was going to be all over town come morning.

“Here you go.” the older woman said, handing the keys to Victoria. But Damon took it. He then pushed her up the dark, wooden steps. She purposefully glared at the gall of the man. She didn’t know if he wanted everyone else to know what they’re up to now.

Unless Amy was blind and anosmic, their wrinkled clothes and the smell of sex they were wearing like perfume were enough to prove that they were having fun like teenagers at the back of a truck.

The second floor had five small rooms. At the end of the hallway, another set of stairs curved around up to the attic, which, at Amy’s shrill-voiced account, was where the owner slept. Now, she knows that the owner was the immensely irritating person beside her.

“This is me.” she told him, as she completely extricated herself from his tight hold, unlocked the door and went inside. “Thanks.”

His hand immediately went up to the door as she was about to close it. “We need to talk.” he said, his head bent, not looking at her.

She paused, wanting to push the door close, push him away. Although she cannot see his expression, she also noted that almost defeated note in his voice. But she can’t break down now, so she gathered her wits and well-honed courage about her and shrugged.

 “But there is absolutely nothing to talk about.” she said dispassionately. “We had fun there, that’s it. Just like the old times.”

His face was grim but his eyes held fire that indicated infuriation. She decided to shut the door but he let himself in all of a sudden, making her step back. “What are you doing?”

He shut the door, locked it and faced her. “Oh, there’s a lot, alright.”

He looked dangerous at that moment so she stepped back more. But he was stalked towards her continuously making her move farther from him. The feel of the bed at the back of her knees stopped her.

“Fine.” she gave in, edging away from him – from the heat of his stare and his body.

But he seized her shoulders, stilling her. When she looked up, his face had that expression which she knew so well. He wanted her. And he wants her now. And it was proven by his “Later. We’ll talk later.”

***

Damon couldn’t sleep. He wants to shake and wake her up for another round but there were already dark circles under her eyes and her breathing was already pretty deep. He looked down at his stirring cock and reprimanded it with a “Down, boy.”

It’s been quite some time since he had sex, that’s true. After the divorce, he’s had girlfriends now and then but nothing serious came out of it. They’d date for a week or so, have sex, and then go their separate ways after some time. The longest lasted for a month and a half.

Seeing Victoria was a big bang of emotions and a flood of lust. The last time they saw each other was heaven. Even after he tied the knot in the morning, he was looking for her that very night in the pub. Yes, he left his new wife in their honeymoon bed. Her brother said she left. And that stunned him for a while.

He didn’t want to give up. But it was as if she just disappeared in the face of the Earth. And the brother was pretty tight-lipped about it. Then his mayoralty campaign started and he had to focus on that. Although he was a busy man, he always saw her saucy grin before he went to sleep at night.

She’s still the most interestingly beautiful woman. And she was his.