Erotica Harem

Ok, I couldn’t go away with the so, so review I gave you on the second chapter, I’m not so sure I did a good job on this one either. I did like it, however and made some comments throughout. I am enjoying this story.

Dragon

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **


He pulled away from her. “Excuse me?”

Though the sun had passed below the horizon, enough light remained that she could see a flush creep up his face.

“Um, Jessica, you need to know, um, I don’t normally do this sort of thing.”

“You’re an editor, so quit saying um. And be precise. You don’t normally do exactly what sort of thing?”

“Whatever sort of thing you had in mind.”

“I was thinking about having a cup of tea while sitting at a kitchen table, discussing my writing. Would you prefer your place, or mine? Or would you rather we said goodnight?” Yeah, ok, nibbling his earlobe is supposed to make him think you going to discuss writing. This made me smile, Tim. I don’t know if you meant it this way but it’s humorous to me. Gosh, I hope I don’t get in bad with you now.

“Goodness no. My place is around the corner.”

“Mine is across town. Lead on.”

He glanced up and down the street and headed toward the corner. “Your writing is quite nice, you know. A few sections were awkward, and some of the dialog was a touch stilted. We can work on it.”

“Thanks. I’d like that.”

His apartment was a modest walk-in flat in a modest part of town, carpeted in modest beige and decorated with modest furnishings. The only unusual aspect was the books. Every wall was lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves, the cheap plastic kind you buy in sections and snap together. Paperbacks covered one wall, while the other walls contained a seemingly random collection of hard-bound books. A red and gold set of the complete works of Leo Tolstoy stood out. Below it was an ancient book bound with cracked, peeling leather. Isaac Newton, Principia. To her left, on the paperback wall, a half dozen Dannielle Steele romances caught her eye.

“Eclectic taste,” she commented. “How many of these have you read?”

“Oh dear, almost all of them. A good editor is familiar with many styles, including yours. Sometime I’ll show you my collection of serious erotica. I store it separately.”

The tea kettle whistled, and he poured a cup for each of them. “Tell me,” he said, sitting on the end of the couch furthest from her, “what inspired you to write in this genre?”

She set her cup on the end table and slouched down into the cushions. “I had a boyfriend in college. He was a super guy, kind, sweet, gentle, fun to do things with, the whole nine yards. We lost our virginities to each other, and went steady for two years. But in those years, we made love maybe a dozen times, and it was never, what shall I say, successful for me. He simply wasn’t interested in sex, and I got tired of pushing him, because every time I put on the pressure, he backed away. Frankly, I was afraid of losing him. He was too good of a guy to drive off over one issue.”

She reached for her cup and took a few sips “I didn’t give up, though. I bought every how-to book in the town bookstore, to learn some tricks. Nothing interested him. Then I worked up the guts to check out an adult book store.” She laughed. “That sure opened my eyes to possibilities. Unfortunately, it also made me depressed. So I coped the best way I could, without dumping him.” She glanced at Arnie. “Please don’t laugh.”

“I would never laugh at you.”

“Okay, you promised.” She lowered her voice. “I bought a vibrator.” She sat up, grabbed her teacup, and downed the rest of it. “That, and an active imagination, got me through the rest of our relationship.”

“Hmm. Whatever happened to your boyfriend?”

“I have no idea. When we graduated, he moved one way, and I moved another. I haven’t heard from him since. You know, that was a worse insult than if he’d slapped my face and told me to get lost. We went steady for two years. I loved him more than anything in the world, and then he just faded away. It hurt like hell, and I never want it to happen again. That’s probably why I write. Putting my lovers down in words is insurance that they’ll never leave me.” She set her empty cup on the end table and relaxed back into the couch again. “What do you think? Am I a total psycho?”

“No, but I think you’re being too hard on him. You already said he was sweet and kind. I’m sure he loved you, and didn’t want to hurt you. The problem was that he was gay, and couldn’t bring himself to tell you.”

“Yeah, I thought about that. It’s not much consolation. Are you gay?”

“Dear me, no.” Just another comment, doesn’t mean much but it sticks out to me. He use Dear me and Oh dear an awful lot.

She slid across the couch and rested her head on his shoulder. “Okay, Arnie, I bared my soul to you. Your turn. Tell me about your life and loves.”

He coughed nervously. “I’m afraid you’ll find me strange. You know, I haven’t been to the doctor in fifteen years. I think I’m healthy, but I’m afraid of what he’ll find, so I don’t give him a chance.”

She rubbed her chin into his shoulder. “I almost said that’s dumb, but it’s no dumber than some things I do.”

“And would you believe I’ve written five novels? They’re still sitting on my computer. Every now and then I think about sending them out, but I can’t do it. I see what happens when I reject people who submit to the journal. I don’t want that to happen to me. I know I’m crazy, but you have to understand, I can’t help it. It’s like a phobia.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Terrified.”

She twisted her head to nibble his ear. “Are you a virgin?” I’m assuming this ear nibbling is the wine working.

He sighed. “Um, no. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay. Hey, I’m all hot and sweaty. You probably are, too. How about we take a shower?”

“We?”

“Yeah. Saves water, plus it’s easier. You wash my back, I wash yours.” She stood up and unbuttoned her blouse. “What do you say?”

“Um, okay. If you want to. Actually, come to think of it...” He winked at her. “That sounds like fun. Uh, Jessica?”

“Hmm?”

“I like you.” He picked up their teacups, deposited them in the kitchen, and rummaged in a cabinet before vanishing into the bathroom.

She piled her clothes on the end table and paused, naked, outside the bathroom door to gather her hair and pull it forward so it flowed down her chest, half covering one breast. She licked a finger on each hand and ran the fingers in a circle around her nipples until they grew and tightened. Moistening her lips, she knocked. “Anybody home?”

The door opened to reveal a room bathed in flickering candle light, with the shadow of Arnie’s tall, thin frame dancing on the floor. He stood naked in front of the shower stall, shifting nervously from foot to foot. She pretended not to notice his erection, and hoped that was the right choice.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

“Thank you . Showering by candlelight is traditional in the genre. I hoped you would enjoy it.”

She put her arms around his waist and drew him close, relishing the feel of his hard-on between their bodies. Their lips met in a slow, gentle kiss, and warm moisture gathered between her legs. “We’d better shower,” she said, breaking away.

He knelt down to adjust the water faucets while she stepped into the tub. With the touch of a button, warm spray blanketed them. She took a wash cloth off the rack, soaped it, and ran it up and down his back, and after rinsing and more soap, down and around his legs.

“Face me,” she said. She washed his neck, his chest, and his stomach. Kneeling on the tub floor, she saturated the cloth with warm water, wrapped it around his rigid cock, and drew it back and forth. She hung the cloth on a rack, and kissed the tip of his hard-on. Gently sucking, she drew it between her lips and into her mouth. He moaned and leaned back against the wall of the stall. Flicking her tongue from side to side, she eased her mouth away until her lips closed behind it.

She stood up and touched her nose to his. “I’ve never done that before. Thanks for letting me. Now I’ll be able to write about it more honestly, don’t you think?”

He nodded, a far-away look in his eyes.

“My turn.” She handed him the washcloth.

He soaked it in warm water and curled it under her chin, wrapping it up her cheeks. Drawing it down slowly, he washed her neck, between her breasts, her stomach, and down one leg. After a refill of water, he washed up the other leg, the sides of her stomach, and her breasts. He held the cloth in the shower stream, squeezing it and saturating it, and pressed the folded cloth between her legs, massaging gently. His lips slid down her neck to her breasts where they teased a nipple.

She put her hand on his hip and followed it around until her fingers closed over his cock. “Enough shower?” she asked.

“Enough.”

They got out and dried. She left the bathroom, and seeing only one other door in the apartment, padded to it with damp feet. Like the rest of his apartment, the walls of his bedroom were lined with bookshelves. A half dozen stacks of books were scattered in the far corner. His bed was tiny, a narrow single mattress with a simple cotton bedspread. Without bothering to pull down the covers, she flopped onto the bed.

He stood at the bedroom door, staring.

She held out her arms to him. “Come to me, my beloved.”

“Um,” he hesitated. “I’m not very good at this.”

She screwed up her face in her best imitation of anger . “What? You stupid chicken-shit! You were damn fucking fantastic in that shower. Now get your silly ass over here and make love to me!”

He raised his eyebrows. “Goodness. You do have a way with words.” He is so timid and gentle or so I’m guessing.

“Thanks. It’s a line from a story I’ve been putting together the last hour. Think it’ll work?”

“It works for me.” He climbed onto the bed and lay beside her.

She slid her arm under his chest and rolled him on top of her, opening her legs and raising her knees at the same time. His cock brushed the inside of her thigh, and she guided it until he’d pushed it home. He pulled right out and slammed back in, fast and hard.

“Wait.” She put her hands on his butt cheeks and held him still. “Slow,” she said. “Out real slow, and in even slower.”

He nodded, and eased back out. She twitched her fingers on his butt, and he slid back in, guided by her touch.

“Perfect,” she whispered.

He got the idea, and kept it up, moving in a steady, unhurried pace while her eyes lost their focus, engulfed in a dream.

The giddiness she always felt in a wonderful fantasy twirled in her brain, making playful dips and dives in her consciousness. Even his slow pace felt too fast, and she feared their time would be over before she was ready for it to end. “Your first book,” she said, pinching her lip between her teeth after she said it, an attempt to hold back the heat that was already kindling in her gut. “What’s the title?”

He slid in and out a few times before answering. “Holiday in Rio.”

Her cunt twitched, and she clenched his butt cheeks with her fingers. “Your second?”

He stopped moving and lowered his mouth to her breasts, where his lips found a nipple to toy with. “Death in Venice,” he said, and switched to the other nipple.

Craving more, she ground her pelvis up, and he took the hint, easing out and sliding in while he sucked the nipple into his mouth and ran his tongue over it.

She tried to slow her breathing while he picked up the pace, his every thrust raising the tension building deep inside. “Third?”

He abandoned her breasts and brought his mouth up to her face, pressing his lips into hers. She kissed him hard before darting her tongue into his mouth.

He broke off the kiss in seconds, panting. “Third is Love in Amsterdam.”

A burning heat ignited between her legs. She clawed at his back, raking her fingers from his shoulders to his rear. “Fourth? Oh, never mind. I’m..., I’m..., Faster!”

He backed out and plunged in, and did it again.

“Oh, Arnie, I...” A startling groan erupted from her throat, and she thrust her hips up into him, waves of contractions squeezing his cock as it pounding into her. Her mind surrendered itself to ecstasy, and she was only dimly aware of him moaning as a new warmth spilled into her body. When she came out of it, she realized that she was clutching him. Her arms were wrapped around his back, and she was pulling him so tightly that she could barely breathe. She relaxed her grip and let him roll beside her on the bed.

She touched her finger to his cheek. “You’re right,” she said. “You’re not very good at this.”

He smiled. “Maybe I’ll be better next time.” Now that was good. I liked the way you wrote the sex scene.

***********************************************


She finished her half of the cheese omelet he’d made for breakfast. “I hate to say it, but my boss gave me a boatload of homework. What I want to do is snuggle up with you on the couch and write the next chapter of Hardigan. I seem to recall that Lady Jessica was ready for something. Unfortunately, I have to go back to my apartment and do my work.”

He reached across the table and put his hand on hers. “How about this? Give me a crack at the next chapter. I’ll show it to you Monday, as long as you promise not to laugh.”

“Arnie, would I laugh at you?”

“We’ll see, won’t we.”