Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov

“Come on,” said Kathryn, “we’re almost there.” The young man she held upright as they stumbled slowly along the hallway muttered incoherently, and groaned. Plodding steps brought them finally to the apartment door. Kathryn heaved Brian against the wall and tried the door knob. It turned easily and Kathryn sighed. She pulled his arm across her shoulder and pulled him into the dark.

“It’s a good thing you’re so skinny,” she said, leading him down the barely lit hall toward his bedroom. She pushed his door open with a shove of her hip and with a final effort pulled him into the darkness. Catching her foot, she tripped and fell onto the crumpled surface of his bed, pulling her drunken charge on top of her. Brian mumbled, groping at Kathryn’s thigh.

“Not tonight, big boy,” she said, shoving him over and bouncing out of bed. She leaned against the door frame. “If you’d stayed sober, we might have . . . ” Brian shifted to hold onto his pillow and moaned. “You’re right,” said Kathryn, smiling. “Not even then.”

She closed his door and stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the light. The harsh white radiance made her blink as she sat down to pee. Kathryn shook her head, relaxed by the release. “I should have known he was getting romantic about me again,” she said. “I should have put an end to it before he started drinking.” Kathryn stood and looking in the mirror, teased her hair. “One o’clock,” she said. “Too late to go back out, really.” She shoved her brush back into her purse and flicked off the light.

Cast a glance back at Brian’s door, she let herself play with a naughty thought. “He wouldn’t even know,” she mused but shrugged her shoulders and headed back toward the yellow beacon of the still open front door. Taking hold of the knob, she stepped into the hallway, but a glance back into the apartment caught her attention. Someone slept on the sofa. Curiosity mixed with boredom and she stepped back inside. A young man lay stretched out, his dark curls propped up on the near arm, his feet pressed hard against the far.

Kathryn stepped over to take a better look. Although his face hid in the shadows, she felt a strong attraction to his slumbering features. She paused a while to stare, admiring his handsome visage at her leisure.

“What a dish,” she said gaily to herself. Thinking of Brian passed out in the other room, she leaned close to the man’s face, smelling his faint breath. “And not even drunk,” she said. Kathryn kissed his lips, lightly. A smile glimmered across his face. “Mmm,” she said with a shiver.

Kathryn stood back a moment, pondering, feasting her senses on the strong youth. Her nerves trembled as her imagination rollicked over the lean limbs and firm jaw. She reached for the light just behind his head and carefully unscrewed the bulb, turning it slowly until it fell loose into her hand. She put the glass piece down on the end table, where it rolled silently from side to side. Kathryn went back over to the front door and put her purse down on the floor.

“I’ve just got to,” she said, and lifting up her suede skirt, she took hold of her black lace panties and pushed them down her thighs, past her feet and dropped them into the open top of her purse. She slowly closed the apartment door, bathing the room in darkness.

After taking six careful steps forward, Kathryn felt for the floor as she went down on her knees. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the blackness until the dim outline of the sofa finally took shape before her. She crawled to the center of the sofa and carefully brought her hands to the cushion. Gently searching, she found the thick curved surface of his legs and with gentle, easy strokes, she located the bulge she’d hoped to find.

Softly running her fingers up and down the undefined lump of flesh, Kathryn evoked a shifting response that thickened the mass. She teased the place cautiously. A rigidness evolved as she followed the natural line, until a hard rod had developed. “Mmm,” she purred, and finding a cord, she gently pulled. The sweatpants fell loose. Kathryn slowly uncovered the stiff cock. Pale light from the window reflected off the dark flesh. Lifting the pole slightly with her warm fingers, Kathryn took the head, slightly salty, into her waiting mouth.

The young man moaned and stiffened, pushing his prick deeper into her wetness. “Oh, Angie,” he muttered, putting a hand on her shoulder. Kathryn smiled broadly and tickled his dick with her tongue.

“Hey,” he said, shaking his head. “Who are you?”

“Meow,” Kathryn said, licking the tip of his cock.

“Pretty kitty,” he said laughing, running his hand through her hair, ashen in the pale light.

Kathryn sucked his prick with a hungry rhythm, suddenly realizing that the faint shadows of this young man reminded her of another time, another night. He had the same dark curls and she had kissed him in the black of night.

“Come on,” she had said to the youth, taking his hand and dashing them both through the hedge and away from their friends. He followed tittering with glee as they ran down the hill and into a nearby field. The others kept on walking the other direction, oblivious to their escape. “Over here,” she had said and flopped them both down in the tall grass.

The clouds were thick that night and she could hardly see him as he leaned over to kiss her, to drink those sweet innocent lips with the first bursts of passion that had been welling in her soul. Kathryn had wanted him, felt his hand on the tense swell of her breast, felt the press of his thigh over hers.

A flash of lightning revealed the hunger in his eyes. The boom of thunder in the distance and the voice of their worried friends drove the youth from her clinging embrace. They had run back toward the car as the rain began to fall.

Kathryn smiled nostalgic as she sucked another young cock, anxious to drink up the young man’s lusty flow. A rogue hand lifted her skirt, kneading the uplifted flesh of her ass, and she leapt with a sudden shock as a finger grazed her wet lips.

“Hurry,” she said, turning around to let his fingers tease her swollen pussy. “Please fuck me.” He slipped from the sofa, behind her, and taking hold of her waist pushed himself into the fiery storm of her cunt. Kathryn moaned, the heat of his rhythmic prodding welling higher with each fierce stroke.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room, as he drove himself deep, as she felt his love coming. He yelled at the sight of her pale ass below and she shuddered from within as thunder announced the breaking storm.

The young man fell away, sitting back on the dark sofa. Kathryn leaned forward to kiss the young man.

“God, that was beautiful,” she said. He reached up to turn on the light. Kathryn stood. Rain began to patter on the window panes.

“Wait,” he said, turning the switch in a rapid series of clicks. Kathryn opened the door, pulled down her skirt, picked up her purse and blowing him a kiss, vanished into another stormy night.

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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