Astray

Astray
Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov

“But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best laid schemes of mice an’ men
Gang aft agley”

– Burns

Tracy opened her eyes as a door slammed shut, startled into a confused consciousness, momentarily uncertain of where she was laying. The stale smell of unwashed clothes made Tracy grimace and turn away. “8:40” glowed in red on the night stand.

“Shit,” she muttered, lifting her head off the thin pillow. A dingy white sheet slipped off her bare boobs. “That fucker. He knew I was supposed to meet Karen at eight thirty.” Tracy pulled herself up and turned to sit on the edge of the small bed. She stretched, her arms reaching up until she fell back onto the bed. Twisting her waist, she remembered the night before, the hard mechanical fuck Alan had delivered only to fall asleep atop her, leaving her unsatisfied and stuck spending the night on his thin lumpy mattress. Picking herself up, she scratched her stiff pussy curls. Tracy licked a finger and smiled as she gently rubbed her excitable clit.

“Let’s get out of here,” she murmured. “I’m done with this place.”

Stepping carefully across Alan’s cluttered floor, Tracy made her way to the bedroom door. Pulling on the knob, she took a step into the hall when the thud in the room beyond made her pause and then realizing she was naked, Tracy retreated back into the bedroom. “Brian’s here,” she thought. Tracy looked around at the piles of dirty laundry for her clothes, but remembered that Alan had pulled them off her when they were on the sofa in the other room.

“Jerry,” a young man’s voice spoke. Tracy squeezed her bare breast without thinking. “Yeah, how things going?”

“Yeah, all right, I guess. I mean, you know. No, it’s just over. It’s better, I guess. At least she called it off before we …. Yeah. No, I guess it’s for the best.”

Tracy held the bedroom door open, just a crack, listening attentively to the phone conversation. She had always wondered what really happened with Brian and Elaine. Alan had just shrugged his broad shoulders when she pried for details. “I dunno,” he’d said. “She dumped him.” Tracy shook her head. Sometimes she thought Alan didn’t understand anything.

“The reason I called is to ask if you still have that cabin? Do you think maybe I could crash there for a …. That would be great. Are you sure? I could pay …. Yeah, that’s no problem. I wish. No, some alone is what I need. No, I really haven’t met anyone, I mean, this whole thing with Elaine has …. I know, but it will take some time. A year, I guess. I know. No, I’m really not hung up …. Really, there is someone I would bring, but …. that’s the reason I want to get away for a while.”

Tracy tickled her curls, fascinated, smiling uncontrollably as she eavesdropped.

“That’s the whole thing. I can’t. No, I mean I can’t. She’s taken. I know, but this would be messy. Too close. She’s a knockout. I mean, really gorgeous. Actually, I’ve known her for a long time, but she’s …. I really like her, and if I don’t get away, it’ll be trouble. Yeah. Remember what happened to Tim and Rick? Exactly. The thing is, I like her and I have to see her with him all the time. Not only that, but she practically lives here on the weekends. Yeah.”

Tracy’s heart suddenly shuddered as a jolt of electricity coursed her veins.

“She’s so casual. Oh, yeah. Mostly naked, anyway. She’s driving me fucking crazy. Panties and t-shirts. Oh, yeah. Real sweet boobs, and half the time I’m trying to steal peeks. I don’t know if she’s doing it on purpose, but I don’t want . . . . No, he doesn’t know.”

“Last night, let me tell you, I’ve got to get out of here. I came home early and crashed for a while. I woke up when the door slammed shut and I’d been asleep for a while, so I had to piss. I take three steps into the hallway when I hear them in the front room. There’s this mirror by the front hallway. I look into it and Alan is stripping off her clothes. Hell, I couldn’t help but watch. You should have seen the nipples on these boobs. Just perfect. Then she’s bending over as he pulls her panties down. What an ass! I was going nuts. Beautiful little pussy, dripping wet. Delicious. I took a few steps closer, and watched Tracy suck his cock. She’s so pretty. I’m falling for her and she’s doing my oaf roommate and I can’t stand it.”

Tracy’s fingers moved rhythmically between her moist pussy lips, remembering the sex with Alan, and imagining Brian standing in the shadows watching.

“Oh, yeah. I thought about stepping in, but Alan is such a dumb fuck. I knew he’d lose his cool at the idea. I watched until they moved into the bedroom. Then I laid in bed, listening to her moan. I didn’t sleep for hours. The music kept echoing in my head. She was just on the other side of the wall, and she couldn’t have been further away.”

The excitement welled inside Tracy and she bit her lip as the moans, real moans this time, softly escaped her.

“Anyway, I’ve got to get away before something serious happens. No, I don’t want this to go any further. A few weeks will let things cool down, I’ll get some work done and maybe I’ll figure out . . . I appreciate it, Jerry. I’ll stop by and get the key. All right, after eleven. Great. I’ll see you then.”

The phone fell into the cradle, and Tracy listened, her heart pounding as Brian’s footsteps drew him closer. Impulsively, she let the door swing wide open. As the young man approached, he found Tracy leaning against the frame, one hand squeezing a tight nipple as the other teased her swollen cunt lips.

“Oh, my,” said Brian.

“Hey, Brian,” said Tracy, her voice sultry with lack of breath. “You going somewhere?”

“Yeah, well, not….”

“Can I come with you?” Tracy stepped forward to kiss him.

“I, well, I guess. I didn’t plan….”

Tracy lost herself in his loving kiss. “Plans change,” she whispered. “Plans change.”

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, short stories, swinging, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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