From ERWA Authors
by Amanda Earl
Naked in Varanasi
by Lisabet Sarai
by Amanda Earl
A Separate Peace
by Robert Buckley
Lusting After Jeremy
by Amanda Earl
by Daddy X
Flashers & Poetry
by Dark Horse
by Henry Corrigan
Dick and Jane
by Big Ed Magusson
by Ian D Smith
by Various Authors
Naughty Bits: Technology for Authors
(Non-fiction) by Lisabet Sarai
A Slip of the Lip Anthology
Edited by Remittance Girl
Lusting After Jeremy
by Amanda Earl
He tells me no at first. He doesn't think of me that way. I respect that. Of course it's hard on the ego, but chemistry's chemistry. I move on. I see him now and again. So handsome, tall, twenty five years old. His eyes are a sky-blue, the shade that drives women wild. Also his lips. That full lower lip I think about sucking every time I see him.
I run into him on occasion. We live in the same neighbourhood downtown. We talk. Even though there is a world of noise around us, when we are together, it feels as if the world stops its clamour. I feel a calmness move through me. And not calm at the same time. I am wet every time I see him.
He wears these red and white checked shirts. It's cute. He's from the suburbs near Toronto. Doing his graduate degree here in Ottawa. In Philosophy of all things. Will he get work when he's done school? It's doubtful. Unless he wants to be a prof, driving all the girls mad while they watch those long legs walking back and forth from the lectern to the blackboard. What I wouldn't give to spend an hour in that professor's office.
But for now, he's still a student. And I am just a fifty year old woman in lust with a man half her age. And then this happens:
We're in a crowded bar, both of us there to catch the reading of some drunken visiting poet. An Irish guy I wouldn't mind fucking either, to be honest. But this night, I am pressed up against Jeremy, the twenty five year old beauty. We've both got pints of Guinness resting on the high table top beside us. It's so crowded, it's standing room only. Except I have managed to snag a bar stool. It's a good thing, too. Otherwise I'd never be able to catch a glimpse of that sexy Irish poet as he regales the audience with his stories and poems. Jeremy is standing behind me.
My body isn't bad. I'm curvy, petite, quite a bit shorter than he is. On this night I'm wearing a flowery flaring skirt, short enough to show off my fine legs, a clinging sweater, high black boots. I have a rather awesome ass, if I do say so myself. The crowd gets bigger. I am sure they're breaking fire laws. Jeremy is squeezed in tight behind me, standing so close that his crotch is directly against my ass. He reaches around to pick up his pint and his hand accidentally (or perhaps not) touches the outside of my right breast. I'm not wearing a bra. His fingers feel hot against the thin fabric of my sweater. I feel his quick exhale of breath on my bare neck.
I squirm a bit on the stool to bring my ass a little closer to the growing hardness in Jeremy's crotch. Fuck, that feels good. It is so crowded. I rub my ass against him. Up and out. I sit up a bit. Let my skirt puff up over the stool so that my crotch is nearly naked on the velvet seat. I am wearing a tiny sheer thong. Jeremy's hand is on my leg, moving higher and higher.
It is a strong hand. I can feel calluses. This surprises me. Maybe he does yard work or something. The strong hand has lifted my skirt up and is now fondling my ass cheeks. I lean forward to give Jeremy access to me. All around us there is noise. The clatter of beer mugs against the copper of the tables. The murmur of small talk as the crowd lines up to buy the Irish poet's book, to get his autograph.
Jeremy and I are still, except for his hand. His hand parts my thighs. I can't fucking believe this. We're in the middle of a crowded bar. There are people everywhere, but Jeremy is bold. I open myself for him. I hear the sound of a zipper. Unbelievable. He's going to fuck me right there, with everyone around us.
I feel a thick finger part the lips of my cunt. The finger seems oddly thick for Jeremy. I thought his were quite slender, but who remembers details like the fingers on a gorgeous man like him? Whenever I see him I'm distracted by those sexy baby blues and his stature, his full brown beard.
My cunt is sopping wet. I want to feel that young beautiful cock inside me. I scootch up to make myself available. The billowing skirt covers us. His cock nudges the entrance to my cunt and he inches into me. I am bent over a bit now. He's sliding it in slowly, slowly, slowly. I take a gulp of my Guinness, squeeze my legs together, grind my hips to take his cock in further. Writhe against the stool. I moan. I know my face is beet red.
I see a blur of people around us. How can no one notice that Jeremy is fucking me. He speeds up now. The stool is rocking. I'm worried we're both going to topple onto the floor. I can imagine the talk.
He's fucking me, fucking me, fucking me. I reach down and press my finger against my clit through the flimsy material of my skirt. I hear the sound of applause. Maybe it's for us. He's groaning now. Groaning and about to come. Oh yes…he's coming. He's coming hard inside me. Fuck it feels amazing. To be fucked by this beautiful young man I've wanted so badly. So very badly. Right here in the bar. With people all around us. Fucking. We're fucking. He comes hard inside me. I'm right there with him, riding the wave. Catching it. Coming and moaning. At this point, there's silence around. People are leaving. Jeremy has taken his cock out of me, discreetly zipping up.
I turn around in time to see Jeremy on his way to the bar. I guess to get another drink. But then I spot an older man, just nearby with a satisfied look on his face. I'm wondering who just fucked me.
© 2013 Amanda Earl. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
Bio: Amanda Earl's erotic fiction has been published in several Cleis Press anthologies edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel and also appears in the Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica and numerous other anthologies. Earl is a member of the Erotica Readers and Writers Association. For more information, please visit AmandaEarl.com.
E-mail this page
Copyright © 1996 and on, Erotica Readers Association, Inc.
All Rights Reserved World Wide. Reproduction in whole or in part in any form or
medium without express written permission is prohibited.
Adam & Eve
For lots of pleasure
For exquisite pleasure
For smutty pleasure