Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov

Carolyn slammed the door closed behind her.

“That’s it,” she said as she got in her car. “I don’t care anymore. It isn’t my fault.” She pushed the key into the ignition. “Fucking shitwads!” she screamed as she pulled the lever into reverse. The car lurched back, out of the driveway. Carolyn paused in the road, took a deep breath, and let the car idle forward. “It’s not my fault.”

Slowing to a stop, Carolyn’s hands smacked at the steering wheel. “I wouldn’t, but she’s pushed me into it. She can’t treat me that way. He shouldn’t let her. She shouldn’t be allowed.” Carolyn turned the wheel right and began to roll along the black asphalt road. “Fucking napkins.” Carolyn looked into the rearview mirror. “Come in my house and call me trash. I don’t need this.” She swerved abruptly into the left lane.

The descending sun disappeared behind the First Commonwealth Bank. “They don’t realize what I’ve given.” Carolyn stopped for a red light and flicked on her blinker. “It’s not like I’m an orphan, desperate for their fucking charity.” Shifting slightly down the vinyl seat, Carolyn looked into the mirror. Small black drips hung from the corner of her eyes. “Shit,” she said. “I’m through with that charade.” Carolyn reached into her purse. “So stupid!” She gritted her teeth and dabbed at the runs of mascara. A horn sounded from behind.

Turning left, Carolyn brought the sun directly into her eyes. She reached for the shade and turned it downward, masking the harsh light. Her heart began to pound, realizing at once the direction she was headed. “Monica had better not be jerking me,” she said. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation and nervous fear. “But he would come back and do this.” She turned the car right. “He leaves me to fend for myself, and that’s all right. But I get . . . and he’s suddenly got to have me back.” Carolyn slowed as red brake lights in front of her gleamed. She stopped, waiting as a yellow bulb blinked a steady beat. The car turned out of her way and Carolyn pushed forward.

“It’s always about him,” she said sharply. The road descended into an oak filled valley. Her nerve faltered, and she felt her arms tingle. Carolyn wondered, her stomach clenched hard, suddenly fearful of proceeding. The light changed green. She lowered her shoulders slightly and pressed the accelerator. “I don’t care,” she said, surrendering. “This is about me. I want this.”

She remembered driving with Chris on a spring morning. The sun has shone bright on that luxurious day. His hand had played along

her thigh as he drove, tickling her gently as they rolled down the highway. She remembered sighing as a cool breeze from the open window tossed back her hair and she could almost feel the brush of his fingers before a tight squeeze had warmed her down deep. Even then, she knew he would leave her. Even then, she knew she couldn’t care. One day, she believed, would be better than none.

Carolyn pulled into the parking lot. “Seven A,” Monica had told her. Pushing the lever left, Carolyn twisted the mirror. Taking a tube of lipstick from her black purse, she carefully colored her lips with faint pink. Her stomach trembled as she opened the door. Her knees quivered slightly and Carolyn braced herself with a hand on the roof of her automobile. Her heart throbbed mercilessly.

The apartment door stood open, revealing a dark room through the screen. Carolyn peeked into the shadows.

“Come in,” said a familiar voice. She opened the door and stepped slowly inside. “Carolyn,” he said. Dropping her purse, she ran to embrace the shadowy figure.

“Oh, Chris,” she said, and kissed her lover hard.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, sitting down on the bed.

“Bastard,” Carolyn said indignantly as she unbuttoned her silk blouse. “You’ll probably burn in hell for this.” His eyes watched her closely as she reached behind to unclasp her white lace brassiere. “I can’t believe I agreed to come, after what you’ve done.” Her breasts hung low, heavy as she pushed her skirt down.

“Why did you?” he asked, watching her panties descend.

“What choice did I have?” Carolyn replied, pushing Chris back onto the bed. He kissed her full tit as it brushed past his lips. He licked her belly-button as she rubbed herself forward. She lowered her pussy onto his mouth. Chris swiped the moist slit with his tongue, tasting the sour nectar. “Eat me, Chris,” she said, pushing her swollen clit into his smiling mouth.

He lapped at the sudden flow of warm lust, spreading her lips with each damp stroke. Carolyn arched her back, tantalized by the tickles exploding in her cunt. Chris squeezed her firm ass, pressing her closer and twisted Carolyn over and onto her back. His furtive tongue lashed at her wide-spread pink gash, teasing her wild, drawing her higher. Fingers sank in her valleys, demanding wet yielding surrenders to probing invasions, tickling her senses. Carolyn arched her back hard and drenched his face as she let go.

Quiet blissful laments of a song, like some woman alone at a midnight cafe, echoed in Carolyn’s ears as she shuddered at his touch.

Chris pushed his cock inside her, spreading her hips wide and she struggled to breathe as sensations rushed through her.

“Yes. Please. Inside me,” she said as he groaned, stroking his long prick deep in her quivering womb. His strong face reflected the desire he felt, twisted, yearning, hungry and she blushed to look into his fierce eyes and she held his flush cheeks in her grasping hands and he pounded himself down into her embrace. Carolyn kissed him in madness and abandon and wanting and shuddered with the incessant thrust of his lust pressing deep inside.

“Let me suck you,” she said as she took his stiff tool in both hands and she kissed the wet tip and she pushed him down deep and the throbs gushed wet as he moaned and clutched at her pale shoulder.

“There, there,” she said as he lay beside her and Chris breathlessly took her brown nipple between his lips and suckled Carolyn’s full breast, kneading the softness with a child’s compassion, drinking sensations until the fires inside him finally cooled.

Carolyn lay peaceful and watched as Chris began to dress. She spread her legs slightly and he smiled, wantonly.

“The apartment is paid for. You can stay here, if you want.”

“Oh,” she said, touched by shame. Chris buttoned his shirt.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“Go home. What choice do I have?”

“Can you stand it?” he asked, frowning in distaste.

“William’s my husband,” Carolyn said, getting off the bed to pick up her panties. “He needs me.”

Chris looked in the mirror and stepped into the bathroom. Returning, he wiped at his cheek with a tissue.

“Will I see you again?” he asked. Carolyn buttoned her blouse.

“Do you want to?”

“Carolyn,” he said devoutly. “Yes.”

“Then what choice do I have?”

“None,” he said smiling as he buckled his belt.

“None at all,” she said softly.

Chris sat down on the bed and tied his shoes.

“Carolyn,” he said.


“If I asked you to go away with me right now, would you?”

Carolyn left the room and picked up her purse. She returned and sat down beside him.

“I love you,” he said, amused.


“Don’t,” she whimpered, trying not to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I love you, Chris,” she said.

He kissed her gently.


Carolyn nodded, almost imperceptibly. Chris picked up his coat.

“Bye, kid,” he said.

“Bye.” The word caught in her throat.

Starting the car, she backed out of the narrow space. “It’s just not my fault,” she said, pulling out into the road. The sunset spread gold and orange against the deepening sky. The black asphalt rolled by, mile after mile. Carolyn stared silently ahead.

“Milk,” she said quietly. “I should probably pick up some milk for dinner.”

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, short stories, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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