Today's guest is L. Marie Adeline, whose short story Matilda's Secret appears in Best Women's Erotica 1 (edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel)
Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 1 delivers risky, romantic, heart-pounding thrills. Joyful, daring, and authentic, these steamy stories revel in erotic adventure, from the sparks between strangers to the knowing caresses of longtime lovers. These stories are not merely erotic but filled with strong characters and clever narratives showing how sexual experience is different for everyone. This anthology is a glorious celebration of the finest and friskiest female erotic fiction today.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Jesse asked. “Up ahead, there’s a motel. This rain is as bad as I’ve ever remembered it. I say we stop for the night.”
When we pulled in, the parking lot was crowded with similar-minded people, all of whom, we discovered, had beat us to the vending machines, drinking all the soda pop, eating all the chips.
“The vultures got here first,” Jesse said, slapping the machine, exaggerating his Cajun accent. He was funny, this cute hitchhiker. And now my funny man was sitting next to me on the bed, gently lifting one of my hands to his mouth to suck a finger.
“You are beautiful, Matilda May,” he said, his tongue swirling around my finger. “I know you’re thinking otherwise. But you’re wrong as the rain tonight.”
“I feel…beautiful. I do. But, Jesse, I—”
“Matilda, I’m telling you, men don’t see age the way you think we do.”
He knew me already, knew what I was thinking.
“What do you see then, when you look at me?”
I braced for the answer as he brought his mouth to my ear.
“I see heat. I see…lushness. Is that a word? Lushness.”
I nodded as he reached around behind my head and tugged the elastic holding my long red hair in a messy ponytail. It fell around my shoulders in a cascade of curls. Maybe I was too old to hold onto my tresses, but I was proud of the fact that I didn’t have a lot of grey hairs to cover. I was a natural redhead, all over.
“Good. That’s better. Where was I? I see a woman. A grown woman who I want to fuck, who I want to make scream. I see a strong woman who knows what she wants and can get it, but who only wants me.”
His words were making me wetter than I’d been in years. He began to walk a hand under me, his fingers firmly stroking under my thighs, nudging, asking for permission to enter. His hazel eyes seemed glazed, the scar on his upper lip deeper in the shadowy room.
“Where’d you get this?” I asked, touching his lip.
“I told you I was mean.”
We locked eyes and I let my knee drop open. He curled a finger under my panty elastic, found my slit and played with the outside of my pussy, coaxing out more wetness from between my lips with the back of his thick knuckle. He began to slowly finger fuck me.
“You’re wet,” he whispered. “You’re teenager wet.”
“You make me that way.”
“You make me this way,” he said, placing my hand under his towel. I could feel his erection, stiff and insistent.
“Oh God.”
With that, his kiss was on me, firm and insistent, pressing me back down on the bed. I let my hands drift up to his hair. He stopped kissing me as his other hand tugged the sweatshirt up over my breasts, over my head, leaving my arms bound up in the shirt. His mouth found a tense nipple, and he took it between his lips. His warm tongue traced circles around each one as I arched into him.
“Look at you all tussled on this fucked up bed.”
His mouth made a heated trail down my stomach, and when he closed in on my throbbing clit, he paused. I gazed down to watch him dip the tip of his hot tongue, barely touching my tight little knot, relishing the way his teasing made me squirm.
“Do you want me to make you come?”
I nodded, my knees going completely slack, my arms useless over my head. He slid a finger inside me while his wet, muscly mouth swirled around my fat clit in achingly perfect circles, stopping every once in a while to suck and nibble on my tender thighs before engulfing my pussy hungrily. The build was excruciating; he took me close to the sweet edge of orgasm only to pull back, ever fucking me with two fierce fingers. Finally, mercy, as he covered my clit with his whole, hot mouth, his perfect, talented tongue gently slashing and circling, carrying me higher and higher, closer and closer…
“Oh god, Jesse, don’t stop…” I hissed, my hips bucking into his face. “Yes…make me come, baby…do it…”
My wild surrender made him moan with victory. He pressed my thighs wide open, his tongue now a hot, crazed motor. I don’t know if my body came or he just detonated something in me; I had the kind of orgasm that exploded from my center out, the sound coming from my throat animal and desperate. I flung my arms down, both still twisted together in the sweatshirt. I placed my hands on the back of his damp head as his tongue lapped and pulsed, bringing me to earth, the crescendo waning, my whole body just washed ashore in a pool of sweet bliss.
“Jesse, you wrecked me,” I murmured to the stained ceiling, my eyes shut. Before I could crane up to gaze at his glistening mouth, he expertly, quickly, flipped me over onto my stomach. Then he buckled my hips back into his groin, his hand pressing down on my back, pushing me into the bed. I could feel his erection prodding my lips, soaked and ready for him.
“I’m not done with you,” he said, his voice choked with desire.
Best Women's Erotica Volume 1 at Amazon US :: Amazon UK
L. Marie Adeline is a pseudonym for the bestselling author Lisa Gabriele. S.E.C.R.E.T., her first novel in this erotica series, was a #1
international bestseller. For more information on the S.E.C.R.E.T.
series, visit www.secretnovels.com and www.facebook.com/lmarieadelineFor more information on books by Lisa Gabriele go to www.lisagabriele.com
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