This is an little teaser from my current work in progress, to be released in 2020. Feel free to comment if you like it. The cover is temporary and the teaser isn’t edited.
So I was stuck with this little companion of mine, that good old-fashioned bodice ripper, the only spice in my life. Some noble lady or princess or royalty got abducted by a gang of highwaymen and ended up falling insanely in love with their leader. The plot and characters were more than ridiculous but they were good enough to entertain me in between shifts. Reading about a bratty heroine’s antics was the highlight of my day, as sad as it was. Besides, some of the sex scenes made me tingly in all the right places.
Sometimes I had to clench my thighs while the thug was baring the lady’s buttocks to give her a rough, punishing spanking in front of his men. Or when he tugged her hair to whisper inappropriate things in her ear while she was down on her knees. Or when he forced her to come over and over again with his thick shaft inside her and her ass in the air while she screamed how much he hated him. Only one look of his dark, formidable eyes made her melt and made her wet and needy.
These moments made my heart race in my chest as if I had overdosed on caffeine. Heat was rushing down my skin as I imagined myself in her place and wondered what it’d like to be that much of a nymphomaniac. As hot and deeply wrong as those scenes were I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Seriously, who was wet and horny every minute of the day, twenty four seven like those characters? The orgasms were also off the charts. That damned heroine was cumming at the drop of a hat. All that thug had to do was yank her hair and bite her neck and she was ready to go.
Did that ever happen in real life? Had I missed a class about it?
I wasn’t stupid. Of course, I knew it wasn’t meant to be realistic. That was the whole point, it was a fantasy and a ticket to another world of hot and politically inappropriate sex, rough but loving men and daring adventures. A world of orgasms galore, of wet, tight clefts and throbbing shafts, of sensuality so intense it was almost ridiculous. A universe completely divorced from the cold buildings reeking of cabbage, greasy diners and boring sex.
At that point of my life I was convinced that orgasms were just as fictional as everything else in that book. They were nothing but a sham and a myth used so that publishing industry could sell their hot fantasy tickets to sad and lonely girls working three jobs. We all needed our fix to face reality, right?
As if in response to my grim thoughts the diner’s door flung open and a laughing couple walked in. They looked my age, no older than their early twenties, and like they had been clubbing the whole night. Maybe that was even their first “date” as they looked ready to devour each other. Once they settled into the booth, the girl stripped off her heavy coat and remained in a skimpy, mini black dress that showed off her stunning, slender figure. She had a dirty blonde hair, mascara running down her cheeks, smeared red lipstick and multiple piercings on her left ear. The guy had a bad boy vibe, a wolfish grin and a ravenous look in his ice blue eyes. He was tall, with broad shoulders, muscular arms and the onset of a beer gut. Sphinx Waitress approached them to get their order and they told her to bring them whatever.
The girl climbed on his lap and began kissing him with such a hunger as if she’d eat his face. His large hands cupped her ass and slid under the frills of her dress. She was pretty much dry humping him in front of everyone and swaying her hips while he fondled her body. Normally, I pretended not to notice when some couple was getting too handsy or loud in their making out. It was impossible to look away and I felt how my jaw dropped in shock. Quiet, kitten-like sound escaped the girl’s lips while her man was gripping her thighs and keeping them apart.
These two could sure put the book characters to shame. My skin was getting hotter as I watched their dirty kisses and heard their moans. It was hard to see from my position but I was sure he was fingering her under the table. I found myself pressing my thighs together and felt the ache in my clit. Part of me craved to be in her place and get lost to the pleasure. In those brief moments they interrupted their kiss he gazed at her as if she was a delicious desert. His lips moved and I let my imagination fill the blank of his filthy words to her. The girl giggled and pretty much pressed her tits in his face.
She didn’t look like she ever believed orgasms were a sham. Then again, I find myself wondering how much of her behavior was genuine lust instead of an act. Was she doing it that just because he thought it was hot of her to play the ravenous little vixen part? Did she get any pleasure out of it?
Sphinx Waitress put the plate of eggs and bacon and interrupted my internal philosophical ramblings. I got my second shock for the evening when she finally spoke and her voice sounded surprisingly warm, with a honey softness to it.
“That’s Friday night for you. That guy comes here every week with a different girl. Nothing new under the sun.”
Before I could find any answer in my wrecked brain she walked away with her majestic posture of a diner queen and slammed her fist on top of the couple’s table. She warned them to knock it off or she’d throw them out. I shivered on the inside as I expected the dude to get violent but he just shrugged and drawled one Sorry. His Friday night girlfriend climbed off his lap, still giggling, with glassy eyes and makeup all over her face.
They didn’t try to simulate public sex again but they spent the rest of their time in the diner making out. I hurried to bury my head in the book again before they noticed I was ogling them. It wasn’t necessary. The pre-weekend lust had wrapped them in its sticky bubble and they were blind for the rest of the world.