The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 18: 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women (2 page)

'Let me guess,' said Tory putting her hands behind her head to raise her cleavage that was bursting at the buttons of her shirt. 'Bondi Beach. You spent a lot of time in New South Wales, then headed south to Victoria to take in the art and culture of Melbourne. You really wanted to travel north to see the Gold Coast, Great Barrier Reef, maybe even check out the rainforests in Cairns but you never quite made it.'

'You're a Queenslander,' he guessed.

'I am. They call it the sunshine state. Actually at one time it was referred to as the Banana State which isn't something to boast about.'

'I missed the best part of Australia?'

'I'm biased but of course you did! If you want to see the outback, if you want to see sandy beaches and blue water, if you want the barrier reef and real Australian flavour you can't beat Queensland. It is beautiful. It's civilised but not as polished or commercial as New South Wales and Victoria. It's got more character. It's how foreigners imagine the country to be.'

'Perhaps you'll take me back one day,' he asked cheekily.

Tory's hand laced through the fingers of his left hand.

'I think not,' she said amiably, twisting the ring on the stranger's wedding ring finger.

'Force of habit. You've nothing to be concerned about. If I had a wife, do you really think I'd be shopping this late?'

'Perhaps not.'

Tory knew he was married. His trolley was full to the brim as if he was stocking up for an imminent natural catastrophe. She knew he was a liar, but this particular evening had nothing to do with morals and ethics. It was to do with proving a point.

She swallowed the coffee down in a gulp.

'I better make a move,' she said lightly.

'Aren't you buying anything?' he enquired when he saw she was without a trolley or shopping bag.

'No I merely popped in for a coffee,' Tory replied. 'I've run out at home. I've never been one to do a big weekly shop.'

'Wouldn't it have been more cost efficient to buy a jar of instant coffee than pay for a minuscule cup of cold stale coffee.'

She shrugged her shoulders.

'Perhaps something or someone distracted me and my shopping list dropped significantly down on my list of priorities.'

They ambled out together. Tory took her phone out, snapping a picture of the signpost of the supermarket. Her escort was flummoxed.

'Sorry, part of an experiment I'm doing,' she said vaguely.

'Where's your car?'

'It's parked in the furtherest bay. I can barely make it out where it is. I was in a rush when I arrived.'

'I'll walk you to your car,' he offered formally.

The time was upon her.

'Thanks. Shall we dump your shopping first?'

Tory followed him to the back of a Land Rover. He popped the boot open and Tory sat in the middle on the edge of the car boot, observing the ample room. He packed his bags either side of her.

Up close he wasn't unattractive. The tortoise shell glasses were nerdy but underneath were beautiful blue eyes with long lashes. He was pale but his dark hair and designer stubble enhanced his sex appeal. Tall herself, Tory admired his frame, almost as much as she loved him sliding his narrow hips between her thighs. His height meant if she laid back he could take her there and then.

How far was this married man willing to go? Without kissing him, Tory loosened his tie, to enable her to undo the buttons of his shirt. He was pale underneath, but solid and toned. Her hands went over his pecs, then shoulders. Hands round his neck she lifted her head to kiss him.

Unsurprisingly he responded eagerly; almost too eagerly. His tongue flew into her mouth. Tory knew straight away he hadn't had this type of sexual attention lavished on him in a long time. He was out of practise and sloppy. His tongue was like a dead fish. It was up to Tory to brush her tongue over his, explore his mouth so he'd understand she needed the similar treatment.

The stubble grazing her face and his sheer lust for her, had her deciding this man would represent the last act of the summer sex. Pulling his tie over his head, he allowed Tory to roam his rippled torso. He was older than her; he had to be mid-forties but was ageing in a George Clooney way. His accent and elegance had her dripping wet to have his cock inside her.

Pushing his wife to the furtherest corner of her mind, she yanked him up close, splaying her thighs wider to make room. She undid his belt and trousers, then reached in to rub the erection outlined in his tight boxers. His panting became rapid as his dick pulsated when she pressed his cock through the fabric of his Calvin Kleins.

It was as if he was too timid to take control. Probably a guilt trip he would later justify, alleging Tory seduced him, forcing the weak-willed man to succumb to her charms. As the back of her palm slid down the thick trail of hair leading to his public region, she decided she didn't care. When her hand clutched his shaft, she lost the pang of conscience she had for disrespecting his marriage. He was thick. She needed that dick inside her as badly as he wanted to bury it in her.

She lent back flat on the boot of the car, undoing the buttons of her jeans. Tory wriggled out of them, providing a glimpse of her gold thong on her even golden body.

'What are you waiting for?' she asked widening her legs to improve his.

Tory could see the drool at the corner of his mouth. He pulled her thong aside to feel how wet she was. His groan was excessively loud, making Tory fearful security may hear.

She hadn't been fingered since her teenage years, but his hands were long and fine. Tory presumed he was an office worker, figuring he was an accountant or from another boring profession which would account for why he hadn't been laid in such a long time. As his fingers explored her slit, she bore down, insinuating his fingers alone were not satisfactory.

He removed them and licked them, his face beaming.

'Undo my boots,' directed Tory.

He unzipped them, slipping them off and placing them in the car. Tory kicked her jeans to the ground, leaving her naked from the waist down. That sticky summer weather made her vagina feel humid. She lay breathing heavily, waiting for his next move. Rising on her elbows to see what the hold-up was, Tory saw a middle-aged man delighting in the body of a nubile young(ish) creature.

Tory reached down with her hands to spread her pussy wide, exposing the cavity requiring stuffing.

'Are you going to fuck me or not?'

She saw the proud purple penis approaching and waited for entry.

'You got a condom?' he asked.

Now she knew for certain he was married. Single men almost always carried condoms. Having somewhat killed the atmosphere with the question, she sat up straight, knocking her head on the roof of the car. Rummaging through her expansive handbag she located one.

'Can you put it on? I don't know how.'

She appreciated when married condoms didn't feature heavily in rare restricted sex lives. Some women may have found his inexperience or unfamiliarity with safe sex sweet, but Tory thought him immature – destined to be a poor lover.

She rolled the latex firmly down his shaft. Tory hadn't intended the gesture to be arousing but as her tight grip on his boner secured the condom, she was concerned he might come there and then in the simple process.

Losing was never an option for Tory.

'Fuck me.'

He charged his cock in. Tory was pleased at the girth. She loved the stretch at the entrance of her slit. It made her feel tight, made her feel like she was able to pleasure her partner. As predicted the excitement of having sex, severely impeded his performance. As he rammed repeatedly into her, all she could think of was a Duracell bunny – and how much cuter they were than this married midnight shopper inventing tasks to avoid returning home to his wife.

'Fuck me harder and deeper,' she commanded.

He obliged.

'Grab my hips. Pull me right on your cock. Then slam all you want.'

Obeying her instructions, he was satisfied with the depth of penetration her commands allowed. As he banged, her back would automatically arch accommodating his full length. He relished the sensation and remained lodged in her, ensuring she couldn’t wriggle away.

Excited, he climbed into the back of the car. Because of its size it had generous room for copulation. The position became more missionary, more formal, and in Tory's view, more boring. She allowed him to grind away on top. A degree of pleasure was derived knowing this man wanted nothing more than to fuck her senseless.

'How brave are you?' she asked.

Accepting the question as rhetorical, he withdrew to roll off her.

'Get out,' she ordered. 'Stand where you originally were.'

He did as he was told, forgetting he was the car's owner.

Sitting up Tory, kept her legs wide. Her hands blindly diving into the plastic bags she retrieved a banana. It wasn’t original, but it would be a scene for him to remember her by. Guiding the banana in and out, she kept her eyes locked with his. He appeared hypnotised from her violation of his fresh fruit. Leaving one hand to work the banana as a dildo, her other caressed her clit. She licked her fingers to lube her nub, minimising the duration of masturbation required before orgasm.

He watched in silence. When Tory shoved the banana in deep, her body rocking the car's suspension, he knew she'd reached her peak. He wanted to come to. Standing he wanked his cock in front of her. Tory played along, pretending to be enthralled with his solo performance. Having slowed the pace, her patience was wearing thin.

Tory leapt out of the car.

'Rub it between my slippery lips. Tell me if you like how it feels.'

She bent slightly, resting her hands on the inside of the car boot. Without penetrating, he slid his prick between her sodden lips. As he did, Tory removed her camera-phone from her bra, lowered it between her legs and attempted to take a picture to record the sexual interaction.

The flash was bright in the midnight skies, but he didn't notice. The snug fit of her wet lips, cosying his cock was all it took. He came instantly, clenching her hips, forcing her to remain in place as he climaxed.

Released, Tory scoured for her thong, slipped on her jeans, threw her boots on and walked off without a word. She spun round to take a photo as he gawped at her cold-hearted disappearance and absent goodbye.

Getting in her red VW, she took a final photo of the supermarket and headed home.

***

'Done,' boasted Tory on the phone to Lauren the next day.

'How do I know you're not lying?'

'Wait one minute,' recommended Tory as she texted the photos to her friend's phone.

Lauren received one snap of the supermarket entrance displaying the time as 11.02pm. The next photo timed at 11.23pm was blurry but appeared to be a penis embedded in Tory's shaven haven. The third photo at 11.41pm showed a man in a business suit with his pants down in the car park of the mega supermarket. The final photo at 11.43pm was of the exit sign of the supermarket car-park.

'It's only been two days. How did you manage it?'

'Oh Lauren, seriously don't you watch any dating shows. People always meet in supermarkets. It was easy peasy. I thought you'd have come up with something much more difficult.'

'I can't believe you did it. I've got eight days before my summer sex break finishes.'