From ERWA Authors
La Petite Mort
Deus ex Machina
by Daddy X
The Holiday Cabin
by Ian D Smith
Just a Little Taste
by B.K. Bilicki
Lady Anne's Garden
by Ian D Smith
by Robert Buckley
Power and Glory
by Rose B. Thorny
La Petite Mort Flashers
Lending a Hand
by Rose B. Thorny
by Daddy X
by Ian D Smith
Fiction by ERWA Bloggers
Halloween In The Castro
by Donna George Storey
by Lisabet Sarai
by C. Sanchez-Garcia
Three Times Lucky
by Remittance Girl
Last Tango in Paris, Texas
by M. Christian
Eddie's All-night Diner
by K D Grace
A Curious Case
by Jean Roberta
Sleep Well, My Love
by Elizabeth Black
are you going to kiss me?
by Ashley R Lister
Naughty Bits: Technology for Authors
by Lisabet Sarai
A Slip of the Lip Anthology
by Remittance Girl (Ed)
A Life in Two Worlds
by Henry Corrigan
It’s the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the week. The neighborhood is the kind with wide sidewalks and streetlamps, housewives and babysitters. A whole long block of eyes that could see and mouths that could talk.
It was his eyes that won her over. They were why she’d said yes to being his whore. And why she would say yes again.
Sweat broke out along Jenni’s lower back. The silence of the block was like that moment after a slap. When you can’t see or hear, because your struggling to figure out what just happened.
She couldn’t actually see anyone, not on the street or in the windows but her mind put them there anyway. A dozen, two dozen people staring at her. Taking in her pink micro mini, red lipstick, fuck me pumps and the clear outline of her nipples through her black tube top.
She imagined what it would be like to feel the cool click of steel around her wrists. The hand of an officer on the back of her head, guiding her into the backseat of a cruiser. The word “soliciting” being read to a judge.
She should run. Just turn and go. The spicy smoke of someone barbecuing down the street told her to go. The weeyu-weeyu of a distant siren told her to go now.
But she stayed. With that slickness of sweat spreading over her. With her heart beating too fast and a need burning low, very low in her that she couldn’t ignore.
The crunch of gravel made her turn. Halfway down the block a Mercedes coupe rolled towards her. Too slow to be thinking about passing her by. The rubber of the tires rasped as they touched the curb. She walked over just as the passenger side window rolled down.
Jenni bent forward, leaned her forearms against the hot metal of the sill. She cocked her hip, felt a chill break out along her thighs. Her thong was visible to every potential eye on the street.
“Hi there,” the man said. Clean shaven in a black suit, white shirt and red tie. Blonde hair slicked back executive style. Blue eyes that smiled at her.
“Hey,” she said. “You lookin’ for some company?”
“On what?” She watched the smoothness of his lips as he smirked at her.
“On how much it will cost me.”
The inside of the car smelled like money and good leather. Jenni made a quick decision.
“Five hundred.” She spread the fingers of one hand, waggled her clear nail polish at those eyes.
“Seems a little steep to me.”
Jenni smiled. “Not if I’m worth it, honey.”
He smoothed out his tie, looked deep into the V of her cleavage.
A single fingernail scratched along the passenger headrest.
“Let me in and find out.”
He pressed a button and the locks chucked open. She slipped in and crossed her legs, the leather warm against the backs of her thighs. He put the car in gear and they sped away, wrapped up in German engineering.
He insisted she call him John. Kept his hand on her thigh as he drove. It was less than ten minutes before they stopped.
He slipped out of his seat, opened the back door, compacted his long frame inside and adjusted his tie again. He never looked at her once. If he’d snapped his fingers it would have been less commanding.
She stepped out. They were in an empty parking down the street from the local library. She could see a baseball diamond behind them.
“Suck my dick,” he said the minute she closed the door. She almost did it. Her hand was already out, thumb and forefinger ready to take on his zipper. But she drew back.
The pale pink of his tongue showed as he laughed. He reached into an inside coat pocket. She expected a wallet but what came out was a roll of bills. He looked at her, steady, mocking, in control. A twenty dollar bill fluttered past her cheek. Then another. She leaned across the seat and pulled his zipper down.
Sixty dollars. Eighty.
He wore boxers, black cotton with a button in front. It popped and she reached in, felt the wiriness of coarse hair, the twitch of something as her fingers grazed it.
One hundred. One twenty.
She pulled his cock free, stroked it till it was long and thick and so warm in her fist. She laughed as Andrew Jackson came down and teetered right on the tip before falling away.
John sighed as she took him in her mouth. The ridge of his crown slid along her tongue, notes of salty and sweet. She wrapped her fingers around the inches that wouldn’t fit. Squeezing, stroking. Treating his entire cock in one long, smooth rhythm while money rained down around her.
One sixty. One eighty. Two hundred.
This last reminded her. Pulled her out of her reverie of being a good little cocksucker. Five hundred, she’d quoted at him. He wouldn’t pay five hundred for this.
Contorting herself in the seat, she reached a hand down between her legs. Shucked the thong to one side and stroked a finger through her groove. She groaned around him as her wetness spread, which made him jerk in surprise. Jenni imagined what he was seeing right then. Her head in his lap, one hand working her pussy. Making herself ready for him. He groaned, or maybe she did. Between the wet heat coating her fingers and the hard taste of him on her tongue she lost track.
Two twenty. Two forty.
Two sixty. Two eighty.
A hand on the back of her head, fingers entwined in her hair, gently pulling her away. She whimpered when he left her mouth, like a dog kept away from the bowl. But seconds later he opened his belt, shucked everything down to the floor. His cock sprang free again, settled back into the tails of his shirt.
Jenni didn’t need to be told what was next. She sat back on her side, slipped the thong off and then crawled into his lap. Her pussy settled against the base of his cock. She slid along the length of him, coating him while he yanked her top down, exposing her tits to the open air.
He ravaged them. Licked, bit, kissed, sucked till her nipples were hard and her skin was flushed.
“Fuck me,” he demanded before taking as much of her right tit in his mouth as he could.
The suck of his lips, the way he rolled her nipple with his tongue, lit through her like circuits connecting. It shocked the muscles of her stomach, made them quiver. Tensed her thighs as she rose up.
She positioned him, played the crown against her clit till that connected feeling began to turn into…
His teeth sank into her. She yipped and bucked, craning her neck against the roof. Those eyes, the reproach in them. In a moment she understood.
With eyes lowered, she gripped him again and slowly lowered herself. Worked him inside with a rocking of her hips, till she had him, every inch, buried so deep the feel of him was a kind of pressure, pushing all other sensations aside.
He groaned aloud and so did she. Soon she was bouncing up and down, mouth open, air whipsawing past her lips. She took him to the hilt over and over again while his hands gripped bruises into the skin of her ass.
A growl worked its way up from deep in his chest. His head fell back, eyes closed, blonde hair shining gold in the afternoon light. Outside the windshield, the world around them was made up of batting equipment and little kids tracks in the dirt between the bases. A world with lunch schedules and meetings and time clocks and a car cutting across the parking lot headed for the library. A minivan with honor roll bumper stickers that slowed as it neared. A middle-aged dad at the wheel who saw the two of them. John with his eyes closed, her fucking the living Hell out of him, and her tits…
Jenni shuddered, bit her lip to keep from crying out. She scraped and scratched against the leather till her fingernails bent back. The pain cleared her head, took her away from that burning gold tremble deep in her pussy. Her secret, no one else’s.
When she could see again, the minivan dad was gone and John’s growls became something more desperate and imminent. Jenni put all she had into it. Grabbed her tits and cupped them shamelessly. Panted and moaned. Begged him to let that fat cock come deep in her tight…
She lifted up, meaning to go till only the crown remained then slam back down. But at the last second she went too high. His beautiful cock slipped out and the sudden emptiness squeezed her throat. She scrambled, put him to her entrance, an apology already on her lips when…
His eyes flew open, he shouted and she felt the first hot spurt of his come splash against her lips. He looked Jenni deep in the eye and frantically humped her hand. The sticky essence of him touched her wrists, slid between her fingers. She milked him till his cock was pliant, till he sighed and trembled and all but melted into the seat.
Moving carefully, she collapsed next to him, her bare ass sitting in a pool of green. She could feel Andrew’s crinkled grin beneath one sweat slick thigh. The impulse to tuck her head into the crook of John’s shoulder was tempting but she fought it. Her still sore breast a reminder that these things didn’t belong in a world with sweltering backseats and twenty dollar bills that smelled like pussy.
There was a looseness to her limbs as she gathered up her green. She stuffed it all in her purse then glanced at John. One could almost believe he was asleep, except for the intensity in those half lidded eyes.
“Mmm, that was great baby, but…” A meaningful glance at the dashboard clock. “I gotta go.”
An eyebrow stood up. “Another client?”
She smirked at him as she pulled up her top. “Bills to pay, sweetie. But…” A hand tucked between his legs. Balls caressed and rolled.
“You know where to find me. If you want more.”
He chuckled, the heat in his voice still there even after everything.
With a grunt he pulled up his pants and stepped out of the car, not caring that everyone in the other world could see him zipping his fly. He drove her back to her car. Gave her thigh a final squeeze before she hopped out.
Once inside a stranger greeted her from the vanity mirror. She had tousled hair, flushed skin, lipstick smeared all the way down to her chin. She looked cheap and trashy and…sated.
It surprised her how quickly everything cleaned up. Makeup gone then tastefully reapplied. Hair combed, tube top and micro-mini exchanged for a dark blue pant suit and blouse. Her stomach quaked only once during the change. Just as she was drawing up her panties. She’d forgotten her thong on the floor of all that German engineering.
Back at the office, the conference room was as ordered and controlled as a business plan. Black leather ergonomic chairs, faux wood conference table, water in crystal glasses. Walls painted the kind of color that came with names like “Grasshopper’s Wing” or “Dawn Seen Over a Pond.” The muted click of Jenni’s sensible shoes was the only sound as she walked in.
At the head of the table stood her husband, blonde hair perfectly combed, commanding the room. He leaned over the table, head lowered, scrutinizing the plans laid out before him. His younger brother David stood quietly to his right, and around them young men in good suits looked on with rapturous attention. He spoke to her without looking up.
Jenni nodded, shoulders hunched. Contrite. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”
He looked up, blue eyes bright and so very…cold. They studied her quickly, sharply. Just a cursory calculation. A moment later, he waved a hand, dismissing her excuses. Dismissing her.
“It won’t happen again.”
He said it like she was something that came with a manual. Like all it took to fix the problem was a minor adjustment. Within a few seconds, his focus shifted back to the plans and she became just another part of the room.
It went on like that for another half an hour. Him speaking, commanding. As soon as the meeting broke up, the good suits took flight, moving swiftly to carry out his orders.
She caught David by the arm before he could fly by.
“Oh David,” she said smiling. “You’ve got something on your tie.”
He looked down.
In the middle of all that red was a pattern of robins. She didn’t know how she could have missed them before. Sleek little flyers with their wings spread, soaring out in mid-flight. And littered among them were tiny white spots, like a reverse blood spatter. Evidence of a crime.
David looked back up at her. The same blue eyes and blonde hair on a thinner frame.
“Thanks Jenni. I better go clean up.”
As he stepped away, the tips of his fingers grazed her hip. A touch so very simple, but it warmed her, curled up with that low, connected feeling she couldn’t get rid of.
Her husband never noticed the exchange. Even as she moved to stand next to him, he never so much as glanced up. Too involved in his plans and his business.
As David stepped out of the room, he glanced back one last time and she realized their eyes weren’t the same, not really. David’s were attentive, focused, heated. They looked at her like she mattered.
© 2014 Henry Corrigan.†All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
Bio: Henry started writing erotica for the same reason that gets most people into trouble; because of a girl. He started writing poetry when he was twelve, then erotica as a teenager and a few years ago decided to turn his passion into a professional goal. By day he is a federal employee, by night a part-time graduate student. Whatever time is left over, he devotes to family and writing. His work, and the odd bit of randomness, can be found hanging in The Cave at: henrycorrigan.blogspot.com.
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