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)
The Hungry Girl Special
by Henry Corrigan
Becca frowned at the remains of her grapefruit and set down her spoon with a clatter.
“I’m still hungry,” she said.
“Please don’t do this to me,” gasped Mike.
It was a quarter of six in the morning on Wednesday. The time of day when only two kinds of people were awake. Those obligated by their jobs and those forced by raging insomnia. Becca and her boyfriend Mike were the former.
“I wish we had time for a full breakfast,” Becca sighed.
“You can’t just-”
St. Ignacius Hospital, where Mike the intern and Becca the nurse first met, was two blocks away from the diner where they sat. Checkered tablecloths, the smell of hash browns and steak, waitresses that didn’t rush people out the door.
“I could so go for a big plate of eggs right now.”
“Becca, I’m begging you.”
“And sausage. God, sausage and eggs would just about kill me, I swear.”
Becca and Mike were in a corner booth faced out towards the rest of the room. This early in the morning there were few other customers. There wasn’t another person within thirty feet of their table.
“I hate you so much, right now,”
A half-eaten bagel with lox sat on Mike’s plate. He hadn’t touched it in more than five minutes. The muscles of his shoulders were so tight, he had to press both hands against his forehead to stop them from trembling. He worried at his lower lip with his teeth while one leg tap-tap-tapped against the floor in a staccato rhythm.
Behind the tablecloth, no one could see Becca’s left hand tucked inside Mike’s scrubs. Her fingers encircled the shaft of his cock, slowly massaged a spot just below the crown.
“Don’t you wish we had time for it? Just the two of us? A nice long meal that leaves us both groaning.”
“You are evil. You are an evil, evil girl.”
Becca gripped him tight and pumped him. Just once. His foot shot out and kicked a table leg. Made the whole thing rattle. She kept her face steady but this was as much a torture for her as for him. The smooth skin of his cock in her hand. The way he twitched involuntarily with each touch. The desperate heat that radiated from his balls. Becca’s nipples pebbled inside her bra. A wetness spread through her panties, made it next to impossible not to shift in her seat.
At the other end of the room, their waitress came around the corner. A sturdy woman in her mid fifties with sensible shoes. A career waitress with a warm smile. She stopped to chat with an elderly couple at another table. Becca tightened her grip and worked Mike back and forth slowly. A building, maddening rhythm.
“I am so hungry, baby. Firm, delicious eggs. Thick sausage. God, I would eat it all until I burst. Until I couldn’t take anymore.”
She flicked a glance at her boyfriend. Fingers never stopping.
“Better hurry, sweetie. Unless you want the waitress to get a view of you dirtying your scrubs.”
His foot kicked out again. A water glass nearly spilled over and Becca’s spoon clacked to the floor. The waitress looked in their direction.
Mike trembled. His shoes squeaked against the floor and he sighed so long and low it was almost a groan.
Becca barely pulled her hand away before the waitress neared.
She studied them both. Becca with her polite, innocent face. Mike who looked ready to collapse across the table.
“Is…Is there anything else I can get you…folks?”
Becca smiled at her. “Just the check would be great, thanks hon.”
Mike rolled his shoulders, wiped his mouth. Came round slowly. The waitress took that in along with the spoon on the floor at her feet. The thud of her hand setting down their tab was as final as a goodbye. She turned and walked away without looking back.
Becca patted Mike on the back, laid a handful of bills on the table, then gathered her things.
“Will I see you tonight after your shift?”
Mike’s arm clamped around her waist. He pulled her tight against him, till their mouths were inches apart. The strength of him. The look on his face.
God, that look.
“Yes. Yes you will.”
A brush of his lips against hers, then he let her go. Becca glanced down at the wet spot on his scrubs. The size of it.
She slipped out of the booth and stood up. Heart pounding, panties soaked clean through. Her legs shook all the way to the door.
© 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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