Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov


My eyes opened reluctantly. I tried to read the red glow of my clock. Someone banged on the door, downstairs.

“You bastard!” It sounded as if the woman was hitting the door with a crowbar. I found my glasses and winced as I realized what time it was. “Fucking asshole,” she screamed. I pulled on a pair of shorts and went to the window.

“Kevin!” she screamed in a long wail that betrayed both fury and pain. “Kevin!” I pushed the window open.

“Hey,” I called down. “Kevin’s not here.”

“I’ll fucking kill him,” she shouted. I didn’t recognize Debbie at first. She had always been really quiet, when she came by the house with Kevin. It’s funny how different people can sound when they’re drunk and mad. When she stepped away from the door to shoot her anger at my window, there was no mistaking the bright flame of her hair and her soft pretty face. I’ve said it before; Kevin gets girls he doesn’t deserve. Nevertheless, I was a little glad when I recognized the raving lunatic as Debbie.

“Hey, Debbie,” I said, emphasizing my weariness. “Come back on Monday. You can get in line to kill him then.”

“I fucking will! The fucker left me waiting all fucking night.” Then Debbie screamed and stumbled on the step down from the porch. A light came on at the house across the street.

“Great,” I said to myself. Miss Blanche would have had the police here in about three minutes, once she realized it was our house causing the trouble. “Debbie,” I called down in a hushed voice. “I’ll be down in a second. Just keep cool.”

“Kevin,” she moaned out loudly. I stubbed my toe on the leg of my desk as I tried to get to the front door.

“Fuck,” I muttered, hopping down the stairs as I rubbed my injured foot. I could deal with Debbie. I didn’t want cops dropping by at two thirty in the morning. I unlocked the door and Debbie fell in, collapsing onto the linoleum.

“Oh, Brian,” she said as I helped her stand up. “I’m sorry about this. He’s really not here?”

“He flew out this morning. Business, I think.”

“Liar,” she said sharply, her gaze suddenly fierce.

“I . . . ,” I started, shrinking back from the accusation.

“No,” said Debbie, sounding sorry again. She walked into the living room and sat down on the tweed sofa with a sigh. Her black skirt rode high as she slid lower, exposing a generous view of her white satin panties. I coughed and went into the kitchen to start some coffee. “Kevin’s my problem,” she said. “I won’t make you rat on your brother.”

“Hell, he’s been my problem longer than he’s been yours. I gave up protecting him a long time ago. He told me it was business, but he’d lie to me just as quick as he’d lie to you. He’s a real dogg.”

“I know he’s with that bitch, Sherry.” Something told me she was right, but it didn’t matter. If Kevin wasn’t with Sherry, it only meant he was dogging some other girl. Picking one of his women for jealous rage would seriously miss the point. As far as I could tell, Kevin didn’t care about any of them. All he wanted to do was shoot and score. The smell of brewing coffee made me nauseous.

“You want some coffee?” I asked.

“How about some wine?” Debbie replied sleepily. I turned off the coffee maker and pulled a bottle of Chablis from the fridge. All our glasses were dirty, so I poured two coffee mugs of the purple wine.

“You can sleep here,” I said, handing her the mug. “I’m not going to let you drive if you drink that.” Debbie smiled.

“Brian,” she said seductively, holding the cup up to knock mine. “You dogg.”

“Runs in the family, I guess.”

“One of you is adopted,” Debbie said. “Or you took the good genes and left Kevin the bad ones.”

“Kevin’s just like Dad,” I said.

“Figures,” Debbie said. “My father . . . ”

‘The thing I don’t get is, you’re a bright girl, beautiful too.”

“Brian,” she purred. I took a drink of wine to steel my nerves.

“You know Kevin’s a dogg. He’s lied to you a million times.”

“Really?” asked Debbie. Her tone was angry, but her body seemed to have something else in mind. I could clearly see the puff of an aroused pussy creasing her immodest panties. Hints of stiff nipples appeared in the cotton blouse she wore.

“Why do you put up with his shit?” I asked abruptly.

“He’s so sweet when he talks. Even when I know he’s lying, I want to believe him and so I just do. Then, when he goes to far and I decide to ignore him or hit him or whatever I do, he turns up the charm and it’s like a lullaby, and the madness goes away and then he fucks the rage out of me. He’s like a drug. I know it’s killing me, but, goddammit, give me another hit.”

As Debbie spoke, she rubbed her pussy gently. All I was wearing was a pair of nylon shorts and my prick quickly threatened to pop into view. I tried to adjust myself as I sat on the easy chair, but with every brush of my fingers, my cock leapt higher. Linda, the closest thing I had to a girlfriend at that point, had been out of town for two months. I was hurting to get laid and Debbie was sticking needles in my wound.

“Forget him,” I said after clearing my throat. “You deserve better than my little brother is ever going to give you.”

“Yeah,” Debbie said, her voice low. Her right hand still fiddled with the fabric between her thighs. “What about you?” she asked.

“I’d just use you and make you miserable. It runs in the family. I’m twice the dogg he is.”

“I don’t believe you,” Debbie said in a whisper. Her eyes were closed. I sat quietly, nursing my mug of wine, daring myself to stand up. Sexual hunger was making my heart pound like the timpani in a bad orchestra. Debbie’s fingers stopped their small circles, and rested quietly on the crest of her barely shrouded secrets. I stared, imagining, unable to help myself.

“Can I get you a blanket?” I finally asked. Debbie didn’t answer. I thought about getting up, but instead I fell asleep.

I don’t know how long I slept, but it was still dark when I awoke. Debbie was sucking on my dick. I lifted my hips to push myself deeper into her warm throat and then I opened my eyes. Her tongue tickled my stiffness as she slipped rhythmically from bottom to top and back again. Waves of pleasure poured over me. I wove my fingers through her thick mane, letting my hands follow the bob of her head, up and down.

“Debbie?” I suddenly asked, realizing by pieces what was happening.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, still playing my flute.

“Wicked girl,” I chastised her lovingly. She tickled my balls and then pushed my cock deep. “Are you sure?” Debbie halted the wet suckle.

“Don’t you want me?” she asked, coyly. She sank my sensitive prick back into her moist mouth.

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I just. . . ” All at once, Debbie stopped. She stepped back into the soft beam of moonlight streaming through the front window. I tried to catch my breath while I resisted the urge to leap up and take her. Debbie peeled off her tight blouse. Her tits bounced as she let her shirt fall. My cock throbbed with a carnivore’s hunger at the sight of her big liquid breasts.

“Wow,” I said. Debbie smiled and unzipped her skirt. The black cloth hit the floor in a puddle.

“You’re just going to fuck me,” she said. “That’s all I want from you.” I nodded my head, mesmerized by the shadowy vision of her naked body. “Please,” she said. “I just want you to fuck me.”

“Okay,” I said, at a complete loss for words. Debbie came over and took hold of my hard-on.

“Promise?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said as she guided me into the hot pit of her cunt.

“Good,” she said, thrusting hard against my pelvis, driving me deep inside. “I was so angry,” Debbie said, her titties bouncing steadily. “I have to fuck.” I squeezed her full round ass. “Your dickhead brother taught me this.” She bit her lip and pinched a nipple hard.

“So beautiful,” I said, trying to hold my excitement while I watched her ride me.

“Call me your fuck bitch,” she said.

“Fuck bitch,” I said softly.

“I’m your fuck bitch,” she said, anger raging in her voice. My cock shot straight into her.

“Fuck bitch!” I screamed. Debbie shuddered wildly at my thrust, as though an electric shock had taken hold of her cunt and she flailed in the ripping current. I went mad. I came hard but wouldn’t stop fucking, driving hard to keep my cock fueled. Debbie whimpered, collapsed in tremors of ecstasy, but I turned her over and started pounding her hard from behind. I slapped her white bottom as I fucked her, called her my slut and my hot fucking cunt. Debbie screamed in rages of passion until I wondered if the cops wouldn’t be showing up soon. Finally I pulled my hammer free and spent a thick load in her mouth. My memories of the scene are vague, but that’s what I remember, anyway.

When I woke up again, the sun shone brightly. Debbie still lay wrapped around me. I kissed her cheek and pulled myself free. She hardly stirred. I pulled on my shorts and started a new pot of coffee.

“Oh, God,” she groaned as I set the table for breakfast.

“Good morning, Debbie,” I said. “Want some coffee?”

“Oh, wow,” she said as she looked for her clothes. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I was getting ready to make omelets, but I have grapefruit or bagels or cereal, if you prefer.”

“You’re so sweet,” she said, pulling on her panties. “I can’t believe you.”

“And you’re beautiful,” I said, bringing her a mug of steaming coffee.

“No,” Debbie said with a blush, pushing her straggled mane of hair away from her face. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, sitting at the table. She took a sip. “I mean, I didn’t mean to . . . .”

“Look. I know we didn’t plan this, but I’ve had a crush on you for a long while, Debbie,” I confessed. “After last night, I’m going to do my best to keep you. If you don’t mind my trying.”

“Brian,” she said sweetly. I blushed and sat next to her. Her bright green eyes opened wide as she looked at me and then she leaned forward to kiss me. A sultry smile spoke volumes of encouragement and my heart skipped a beat. I tickled her thigh absentmindedly. “But what about Kevin?” she asked.

“I’m kicking him out. He’s behind in his rent anyway. Besides, there are always girls trying to bust down the door and kill him. I don’t need anymore of that. He can go live with Mom. She’s used to that shit.”

“But you said you only wanted to use me,” said Debbie with a smirk.

“I lied,” I said. “I can’t help it. Runs in the family. And I have to warn you; I’ll probably lie again.”

“You dogg,” she said, rubbing the crease in her panties. “God help me, but I do love it when you lie to me.”

“Well, I’ll never be faithful,” I said as I took her in my arms. “And there is no way I’m ever going to love you.”

“Now don’t make me mad,” she said, pulling me closer. “You bad, bad dogg.”

About David Cain

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

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