Friday 18 December 2015

A Ride on the Night Bus

Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath and walked towards where he was sitting.

She made her way along the aisle, stepping carefully to match the swaying motion of the coach as it sped along the dark motorway and to avoid disturbing the sleeping passengers. He beamed a welcoming smile at her as she came closer and slid towards the window leaving a space for her to sit beside him. They whispered in conspiratorial tones, flirting and giggling in near silence save for the hum of tyres on tarmac and the occasional snore from somewhere nearby. As they chatted, he idly stroked her leg. His touch on the exposed flesh above her knee sent electric ripples of sensation through her and each stroke of his hand aroused her a little more. She could feel nervous butterflies taking flight in her stomach and a growing warmth between her thighs as she lost herself in his eyes and they spoke easily about nothing in particular. His hand began to stray further from her knee, easing beneath the hem of her skirt and across her smooth, soft thigh. She placed her hand on his leg and his froze instantly, waiting to see whether she wanted him to stop or not. The answer was immediate, her hand continued along his leg and into his crotch, her palm stroking the bulge she could feel through the fabric of his trousers and detecting the almost instant swelling she triggered. His hand moved rapidly along the last few inches of her leg and was soon stroking the neatly trimmed hair that his fingers encountered. If he was shocked by her lack of underwear he hid it well, tracing lazy spirals through the short curls of hair. They kissed tentatively at first but rapidly intensifying, tongues meeting and duelling as their hands explored each other.

She shifted in her seat, parting her legs as wide as she could, welcoming his touch and his probing fingers. He wasted no time and was soon touching the smooth, slick entrance to her pussy. The extent of her arousal was obvious to his touch and his practiced fingers parted the wet flesh as he buried his finger deep inside her. His finger pistoned smoothly in and out as his thumb pressed against her swollen clit causing waves of pleasure to race through her in time to his motion.

Determined not to be outdone, she teased the buttons of his fly open and her hand wrapped itself around his engorged cock as it sprang free of the fabric. It felt hard in her hand, closer to a hot steel rod than living flesh and she longed to feel it inside her. She stopped the kiss and buried her face in his neck, nipping it with her teeth before lifting her lips to his ear and whispering a barely audible "Fuck me, now".

"Are you sure?" He mouthed, "You'll have to be silent"

By way of an answer she reached for his belt and released the buckle, followed by the only remaining button holding his jeans in place. He lifted himself up from the seat and smoothly tugged his jeans down, leaving them gathered around his ankles. The coarse nylon seat would normally be irritating against his backside but he barely noticed. She stood, quickly glancing around to check that everyone was still asleep and noticed her friend's curious look. Grinning, she gave her a quick thumbs up before turning to face him. He'd moved to the centre of the seat, making space for her to climb on top. She looked down, admiring the view of his cock briefly before straddling him and slowly lowering herself onto his swollen shaft. She revelled in the sensation as she took his rigid organ inside until finally she felt the rough hair of his balls press against her. She could feel the throb of the engine and wheels vibrating through him as she rode his cock as quietly as she could within the confines of the seat. The thrill of being in such a public place combined with the motion of the coach caused her arousal to build rapidly and she felt her orgasm growing. A moan escaped her mouth and he clamped a hand over it to remind her to be quiet. She ground herself onto him in time to the limited thrusts he could make in the restricted space. Her thighs began to tremble as a first ripple of ecstasy coursed through her and she clenched tightly around him whilst continuing to writhe on top. Sensations filled his mind as her hot pussy grabbed his cock tightly as if it concealed a third hand and drove him over the edge of control. His balls tightened and he felt his shaft swell impossibly, almost uncomfortably, before it spasmed violently, filling her with his hot cum. He buried his face in her neck to avoid any noise and clenched every muscle as she rode the last pulses inside her, slowly coming to a stop.

They stayed motionless for a while, the vibrations of the coach washing through their satisfied bodies as he slowly deflated inside her, their juices pooling in his seat.


Opening her eyes she saw the man behind look at her. He winked and closed his eyes again, returning to sleep. She stood, kissed her temporary lover on the lips then walked back up the aisle to her friend, all the time aware of his cum oozing down her thigh and his eyes following her.




Monday 14 December 2015

How long does it need to be?

No, not that! We all know that is an impossible question to answer but it did get your attention.

I mean, how long should erotic stories be? To my mind, erotica has to be short. If a story is too long it becomes romance with erotic elements rather than erotica. I consider that a good thing, after all, erotica is, or should be, so steamy and arousing that after any more than 4000 words you will be aroused to the point where you can't concentrate on reading and need a break. That's certainly how I try to write and it's why I have no intention of writing anything longer than a short story in the erotic genre. 

I love the excitement and the roller-coaster like pace of flash fiction or short stories and perhaps more importantly, the immediacy of it. As a writer it is probably lazy of me because I don't need to create a decent lead in or create any kind of consequences. I don't even need to worry about character development or justify any of the character's actions. You could say it's the perfect one night stand of the story world, a snapshot into the lives of the protagonists rather than a fully developed story and really that's all I'm trying to create.

One aspect I do take time over is the physical attributes of the characters in my stories. I think it is very important that authors should not copy the mistake of our mass media culture by espousing perfect figures. How many times have you read a book that featured the perfectly toned billionaire male being won over by a coquettish young woman who is slim, pert and perfect? Is that you? Then you're lucky. For the most part, readers (i.e. us) are not the perfect physical specimens portrayed in movies and magazines nor should we aspire to be. It is very important that we learn to be happy in our own skin and not to judge either our happiness or that of anyone else by their physical appearance alone. As a writer it is definitely possible to avoid the age old cliches and to allow our creations to be 'normal'. 

I'll hold my hands up here and say that it's very easy for me to be righteous about this. After all I only write short stories and I don't have to worry about fleshing out my characters. Of course in reality writers never have to flesh out their bodies, that should only ever happen in the reader's mind. Writers lead the imagination and provide triggers for the reader but don't need to provide complete descriptions in infinite detail. Don't believe me? read Stephen King's book "On Writing". He really does know a few things about creating fiction and has some superb examples in it.

Next time you read something, think about the physical attributes that the writer has used. Are they pushing a perfect physical specimen or are they leaving it to your imagination? It's up to you as a reader to decide if you are happy to be spoon fed the same old stereotypes or to seek out writers who let you use your imagination and create characters closer to you and me. The choice is yours, vote with your eyes and your fingers but I know which way I'm going to go.


Tuesday 8 December 2015

The Hotel


 I waited nervously in the room. The surfeit of adrenaline that filled my body was causing my pulse to race and my hands to feel clammy. She always had this effect on me, every time we met like this I was nervous and excited in roughly equal measure but I knew that the minute I opened the door and saw her standing there all my worries would evaporate and I’d be left riding a tidal wave of passionate lust.

Time dragged as I paced the room, flitting between the door and window as I waited, hoping to see her walk across the car park or hear the nervous knock at the door that would mean she’d arrived. My phone buzzed and I paused to check the message; It simply read ‘Just parking. x’ but it sent my heart cartwheeling around my chest and a squadron of butterflies to take to the wing deep in my stomach. Grabbing the room key I darted into the corridor, eager to catch her before she left her car. I practically jumped down the stairs, taking two or three at a time in my haste to reach the doors and the outside world.

The sunshine was spectacularly bright, causing me to blink furiously as I waited for my eyes to adjust to the sudden intensity but I kept walking along the path towards the car park, drawn by an irresistible force that urged me on. I rounded the corner of the building and saw the wide expanse of tarmac full of vehicles. I looked for hers, trying to see if I’d I been quick enough to catch her. Then I saw her, getting out of the low slung sports car that she loved to drive fast. She must have sensed me because she turned at that precise moment and saw me coming towards her. I watched her face light up with sheer delight and felt my heart soar in response. My face was displaying an equally ecstatic grin as I loped across the hot ribbon of asphalt to reach her. Each step closer caused a growing tension in my jeans and I knew suddenly that today we weren’t going to make it to the room before consummating our mutual needs. I had to have her, here and now.

By the time I reached her I could feel my fully engorged cock straining against the denim, trying to fight its way to freedom by sheer force alone. Wrapping my arms around her I inhaled the delicate scent of her perfume as she buried her face against my neck. She felt so good pressed against me, I didn’t want the moment to ever end. I felt her pull away from me slightly and looked down to find myself gazing into her upturned face. We grinned, a wicked, hungry smile at each other before leaning in and losing ourselves in a kiss of such intensity that we didn’t notice the car beside us had driven away until we surfaced for air. I pulled her back into a kiss and as our tongues entwined her hand pressed against the front of my jeans and slowly rubbed her palm along the length of my cock through the taut material.

Releasing her from my firm embrace I took her hand in mine and stepped away from the car, heading for the gardens. Wanting, needing more than a kiss I didn’t stop, heading deeper into the undergrowth towards a secluded spot we’d discovered on our last visit. Less than a minute later we ducked under a low hanging rhododendron branch and into the cool dark void hidden inside the shrub.

We turned to face each other and kissed again. Our tongues battled as our hands explored each other's bodies. I caressed the smooth skin of her legs as my hands moved up beneath her skirt, feeling goosebumps pucker her delicious flesh beneath my touch, savouring the perfect smooth inner thighs as I sought the evidence of her arousal. I felt the heat radiating from her pussy before my fingers met the dripping flesh and I smiled as her juices coated my finger tips. I teased her momentarily, just grazing her sodden flesh before plunging my index finger inside her, eliciting a gasp from her. The moist heat was intoxicating and I needed to feel her wrapped around me very soon.

As our lips met her hands started to explore, teasing my belt free of the buckle and popping the buttons of my fly in rapid, staccato succession. She pushed the jeans down just far enough to pass the curve of my buttock and they fell in a heap around my ankles. Free from the chore of undoing buttons, her busy hands started to play, one raking my buttocks with nails while the other wrapped itself around my swollen shaft and began to stroke slowly but determinedly.

Pulling my lips from hers I gazed into her eyes, pulled my hand from between her thighs and brought it up to my mouth before sampling her delicious juices from my finger. The taste was intoxicating and amplified my need. Stepping between her parted feet I placed my hands on the backs of her thighs just below her buttocks and lifted her off the ground. Her eyes widened in surprise but her legs instinctively wrapped themselves around my waist as I filled her with my cock. She felt amazing as I buried myself deep inside her. Grasping her buttocks I matched the thrusts that her thighs were driving and we moved as one entity, thrusting and grinding against each other as we fucked hard and fast. I felt the growing tremor in her thighs and the pulse of her pussy around me as she came, her face buried in my neck in an attempt to minimise the volume of her cries. Her teeth grazed my neck and I felt my balls clench tight as they prepared to eject their contents. My cock swelled unimaginably, almost painfully before my orgasm ripped through me and I felt it convulse once, twice a third time as her pussy clenched around me, milking the creamy liquid from me and causing my legs to tremble with a combination of pleasure and exertion.

My knees gave out and we collapsed, a hot, wet and deliriously happy tangle of flesh.



“I’m so glad I married you” I eventually managed to say before she smothered my mouth with kisses once again.

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If you enjoyed that, try my first book "A Taste of Erotica", a collection of 7 short stories. Available to download here: