Today I welcome first-time guest Carla Atherstone, with an excerpt from her short story Something New.
Wendy doesn’t even know what it is she’s looking for, until she meets Lana. Sexy and glamorous, Lana’s unlike any other woman Wendy’s ever known – especially when Wendy discovers a substantial surprise in her pants.
Lana’s hips swayed as she walked; she had full hips and a gorgeously round arse. She was wearing a green thong; the top of it was just visible above the waistband of her jeans.
She stepped into the lift and beckoned Wendy in after her. As soon as the doors closed they were kissing, but it seemed only a moment later that the lift pinged and they had to compose themselves as the doors slid open again.
Wendy followed Lana down the corridor to the door of her flat, glad there was no one else around. Her face was burning and the gusset of her panties felt moist. Lana smiled back at her as she unlocked the door of the flat and stepped inside.
The door shut behind Wendy. The flat was neat and pleasant; a kitchen and a breakfast bar, a living room with a thick white pile carpet and a patio balcony giving a great view of the city. She wondered what the bedroom was like.
“Wine?” said Lana as she went into the kitchen.
“Please.”
“White or red?”
“White, please.”
Wendy ran to the toilet and peed. When she cleaned herself with the tissues, she was astonished to find how wet she was. She touched herself and shivered with delight; it would hardly take any effort to bring herself off. But she didn’t; she was here to let Lana do that. She pulled up her trousers and flushed instead.
In the living room Lana offered her a glass of wine. “To us.”
“To us,” said Wendy, and their glasses clinked. She took a sip of wine, then put the glass down and kissed Lana again. Lana cupped and stroked Wendy’s breasts through the blouse; Wendy pushed up the halter-top to expose her partner’s pert breasts — Lana wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples were a light brown, and quickly came erect as Wendy took first one, and then the other, in her mouth. Her skin was very smooth and soft, and tasted lightly of salt.
Lana pushed Wendy’s suit jacket off over her shoulders and began to unbutton her blouse. But Wendy was already sliding down to her knees, kissing Lana’s flat belly, her tongue toying with her navel and the little diamanté piercing there. She fumbled with the belt on Lana’s jeans, then the button and zipper, then pulled them down.
Lana slipped her tanned, slender feet out of her sandals, then stepped out of the jeans as they fell around her ankles. Every inch of her was smooth and tanned, unblemished, perfectly toned. She was naked now except for the green thong. Wendy reached up to stroke her belly and thighs, then hooked her thumbs into the thong and drew it down.
Lana’s cock, now limp, looked nothing like the thick truncheon Wendy had felt before. It was tiny, in fact, almost toy-like; a small pink thing curled shyly between Lana’s thighs, along with a pair of small, pink testicles. All were clean-shaven. Wendy reached out to cup Lana’s cock and balls, gently stroking the flaccid dick with her fingertips, kissing it gently, then running her tongue up and down its length. Lana gave a little gasp. Wendy lifted her cock; she kissed, then licked Lana’s balls, before taking them in her mouth to suck them.
Lana ran her fingers through Wendy’s hair. Wendy smiled, letting Lana’s testicles slip from her mouth before kissing her penis again. It was starting to thicken; Wendy ran her tongue around the tip several times, then took it in her mouth. Lana groaned and her hips began to move. Shucking off first her blouse and then her bra, Wendy began to suck her in earnest.
Lana’s cock was swelling in her mouth; it’s a grower, Wendy thought. Lana gripped her hair tighter. Wendy looked up. Lana was flushed, panting for breath, those green eyes drinking in every detail as Wendy unfastened her trousers, pulling them and her sodden panties down, kicking off her shoes as she struggled free.
Now completely naked, she took Lana back into her mouth. She looked up to see Lana’s head was thrown back. In the mirrored ceiling she could see her partner’s face: her eyes were screwed shut and she was biting her lip. Wendy smiled; it felt good to see Lana’s self-possession slip, to see lust taking her over as well.
Wendy took Lana’s cock from her mouth to study it. It bore no resemblance to the little pink thing she’d first seen; now it was the hard shaft that had pressed up against her in the alley once more. Bigger and thicker, if anything, and harder still. It jutted up proudly, veins standing out along its length; its round purple head bobbed in front of her face, still glistening from her mouth.
Lana looked down at her, breathing heavily, face flushed. Wendy smiled up at her and ran her tongue over the swollen cockhead, then began to kiss and lick and gently nibble at the head and shaft. Lana groaned, and Wendy smiled up at her again before pushing her head forward to take the full length of her cock in her mouth, then into her throat. Lana gasped and gripped her hair. Wendy sucked at her hard, squeezing her lover’s rounded hips and fondling her buttocks.
Lana’s grip on her head tightened. “Stop,” she breathed. Wendy looked up, and Lana withdrew from her mouth; a strand of pre-cum hung between Wendy’s lips and Lana’s cock. Lana reached down to cup Wendy’s breasts, stroking and fondling the soft warm flesh, rolling the nipples between thumbs and forefingers. She leant down and kissed Wendy again, her warm tongue probing deep into Wendy’s mouth. Then she whispered “Come on,” slipped her hand into Wendy’s, then led her out of the plush living room and through another door.
The flat’s bedroom was much bigger than Wendy had expected, decorated in soft pink and sporting a king-size bed with white satin sheets. She turned to face Lana, who pushed her back onto the bed and leant over her. She kissed Wendy again, then slid down, kissing and licking, sucking the soft flesh of Wendy’s breasts into her mouth, biting and nibbling gently at it with her white teeth. Then her mouth slid over Wendy’s stomach to the wet, trimmed bush between her legs. Wendy lay there, panting; every inch of her skin tingled with anticipation.
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Carla Atherstone is an enthusiastic newcomer to the world of erotica, but writing down the products of her filthily fertile imagination has rapidly become her second favourite pastime. Her third favourite is rambling among the hills, moors and woods around her home in the wilds of Lancashire; her first, of course – aided by her patient and understanding husband – is finding creative ways to pass those long winter nights. She has further stories coming from Deep Desires Press, and in Hot Chilli Erotica.
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