Three Erotic Vignettes

An Exercise in Pretension by Kinky Rachel

To (mis)quote Hunter Thompson, I've never been properly able to explain myself pretty much anywhere, so bear with me if this goes wrong. I've written a fair, but not overwhelming, number of erotic stories now, on some of which I've got comments that aren't entirely negative. However, I imagine like any erotica writer on this site that doesn't just publish everything, I've got a whole bunch of mini stories, too small to be called short stories, even. I'm working on a very big erotic story at the moment, and I felt it was time to sort of clean out the closet a bit.

These tales exist in their present form for a number of reasons. Sometimes I woke up with some bright little fantasy burning in my body and just wrote it out. Sometimes a story just didn't engage me and I left it alone. Sometimes I just left a story behind and got lost in something else. In any case, I present three of these vignettes here and, out of ego, I've written a short introduction for each. They are little erotic snapshots, and I hope you get some brief enjoyment out of them.

Dressing

This was the initial opening for a new story of mine - I'm submitting it soon - called Dining Out, or the Dinner Date, I haven't settled on the title. Unfortunately, the tone and the build-up didn't really fit the story, but I think it's pretty sensual and I hope you like it...

A few drops of water still cling to me from the shower I have just taken. They bead on my arms and legs like jewels, gloss my breasts with iridescent rainbows, run tantalisingly over the smooth swell of my ass and the carefully cropped mound of my pussy. I move the towel slowly, sensuously over my body again, tracing the water away. My nipples stiffen, mildly, at the contact. I drop the towel and go to my mahogany chest of drawers, picking out my best underwear for my date.

I step into the panties, sliding the soft silk over my calves and grazing it against my thighs. The contrast of the rich dark material against the pale flesh of my newly trimmed cunt pleases me, the feel of the delicate fabric against my sensitive flesh flushes my cheeks and I give a quick low moan, imagining his lips and tongue at work. I reach for my bra and put the straps over my shoulders, pulling the cups over my breasts, tickling my nipples. I reach back and fasten the clasp, the movement again stimulating my nipples, which have grown to firm, hard points.

I step over to the wardrobe to get my dress, looking at the mirror on the door. Okay so far. My breasts, though only moderately large, are displayed to their best effect in the bra, and the well-toned stomach where I hope his hands will linger and play later is well framed by the expensive lingerie. The sheer panties cup my pussy and legs like a proud and jealous lover.

I select a pair of stockings from the wardrobe and rest my ass on my bed as I slide them onto my legs. I put the left one on first, both hands encircling my leg and delicately moving up from my slender feet, past my knee to mid thigh, where the stocking stops but my hands continue. Up, they go, slipping into the panties and brushing over my pussy. The fingers of my left hand tickle the rapidly dampening hair of my cunt, but I stop myself - good things come to those who wait. I put the other stocking on more briskly and then ease into my little black dress.

I finish getting ready and sit for a while, trying to read, but thinking about him.

Watching

This has its genesis in my intermittent insomnia. I am frequently up all night, sometimes watching people pass on the streets bracketing my flat. Sadly, I have never seen anything more erotic than a quick grope, and usually the show is a drunk vomiting towards a gutter. Oh well. Nice dream, as Thom Yorke might say. Initially, this story was going to lead into them meeting and various exhibitionist and voyeuristic sex scenes. That story seemed so vapidly unoriginal that I didn't see any point in telling it. Again, though, I like the opening...

I woke up, my throat burning with thirst, my cock painfully hard, its sensitive head rubbing against the rough fabric of my duvet. I looked at the clock opposite my bed: 2:17. I'd been asleep for about an hour and a half.

I battled my way out of bed, throwing off the duvet snarled around my body, bouncing around on the mattress. I tucked my cock back inside the boxer shorts I slept in and padded through to the kitchen, still half asleep. I set the cold tap running and got a glass from the cupboard. The glass had a picture of Snoopy on it and felt nice and solid in my hand. I sat on the work surface running it through my fingers, checking the water flowing from the tap, waiting for it to turn icy cold.

My cock was softening now, whatever dream-induced ardour fleeing as I woke up. It hung, pleasantly heavy, in my boxers, and I cupped it and my testicles with my hand, enjoying the heavy, sensitive flesh. I checked the water. It was cold enough now and I filled the glass, drowning Snoopy. I drained the glass in one go, refilled it and took a more moderate drink.

I glanced out my window, and my cock sprang instantly back to its previous painful arousal. In the block of flats opposite mine only one window was lit up. The light fell on the flawless skin of a slender blonde woman. She had full, high breasts that cast deep shadows on her flat belly. Her pussy was smothered in a rough thatch of tangled blonde hair. As I watched, the woman's hands strayed to her breasts, where she pinched her nipples. She kept toying with her breasts with one hand as the other disappeared into her large bush. That hand began to move faster and faster as she rammed her fingers in and out of her pussy. I thanked god I hadn't turned the lights on in my kitchen - if she could see me this magnificent show might stop.

I barely realised my hand was on my cock, I was rubbing it faster than the woman was finger-fucking herself. In a few moments I came, shooting semen into my sink. My cock spurted once, twice, thrice, each time sputtering my come against the cold steel basin. The woman came shortly after, her mouth opening in a - to me - silent O of pleasure. She went to her sink, giving me an even better view of her sensuous body. I saw she had a small tattoo of a butterfly trying to escape the knots of her pubic hair. She washed her hands at the sink, dried them on a dishtowel then walked out of her kitchen, giving me a view of a full, curvy ass that bounced delicately with each step she took. She stretched a hand to the right- her light flicked out and she disappeared. My cock was poking out of the boxers already, ready to go. I jerked off again, her body in my mind's eye, then rinsed the sink and went to bed.

Flight into Teri

I do a reasonable amount of travelling and a fair bit of that is by plane. There's a certain erotic appeal to travel - despite all the security, in travelling alone we become effectively anonymous, a blank slate on which we can craft any personality we choose. Regardless of all that, I considered this as an opening forLuka on the Second Floor, but in the end again it's unnecessary, doesn't fit and in this case is too long. For any British readers, the title is an incredibly laboured Father Ted reference...

Naomi's legs were splayed wide, her bald pussy wet and shining under the spotlamp illuminating the bed. She was reclined against the pillows, and her long, blonde hair trailed down to mingle with the cream sheets. Her breasts were small, yet shapely, with vividly dark nipples that now thrust lengthy towards me. She slowly moistened her pale pink lips as she regarded me - I, like her, was completely nude. She took in my slender body, my redly hard cock straining towards her.

"Come here and fuck me," she instructed.

I couldn't believe it. Here was I, Joe Nobody, about to fuck Naomi Watts, one of the most beautiful women in the world.

I moved towards her, clambering on to the bed and crawling towards her. I had began to kiss her ankles when Benicio Del Toro's voice boomed from nowhere, "Buckle your seatbelt, sir."

I woke up with a start, feelin someone's hand on my leg. Looming in front of me was a stewardess.

She repeated herself. "Sir, please put on your seatbelt, we are expecting some turbulence."

I rubbed my face and brushed sleep dust from my eyes. She watched me until I finally complied and tied that strange metal buckle. The stewardess, satisfied, gave me a mischievous smile and a wink from one long-lashed eye before heading back up the aisle. I was confused - why had she winked? Then I looked down.

Terminating at most an inch from where her hand had rested, my cock bulged thick against the fabric of my trouser leg. Vaguely embarrased, I tried to go back to watching21 Grams, only to find that the movie was over. Instead, I tuned to one of the plane's music stations and listened to bad jazz.

Sometime later, the stewardess began moving towards me with the drinks trolley. At each row of seats she paused, quickly filling small plastic cups with ice and handing over tiny cans. Rarely, but sometimes, she poured coffee or tea - to people, I suppose, that actually wanted to stay awake on this long, long flight into endless night. As she neared me, I - involuntarily - checked to make sure my cock wasn't bulging out. Thankfully, it was not.

She leaned over me to ask the desired beverage of the turgid American woman occupying most of my room in addition to her own. The woman took ginger beer and the stewardess handed over the can, the cup of ice and, absurdly, a little paper doily - as if the utilitarian plastic of the seatback table required protection from rings.

I smiled shyly at the stewardess, who regarded me with absolute professionalism. I asked for ice water. She held the cup over my lap and poured the water - her arm jumped and she spilled a mere trickle on my lap. I thought it might be some response to my apparent arousal earlier, but she was shockingly contrite.

"Jane," she said, "Can you see to this side? I need to clean something up."

Jane replied, "Sure, Teri," with a smile and Teri took my arm and guided me towards the middle of the plane. She walked with the ease of constant practice, but I occasionally had to grab a headrest, unused as I was to walking while hurtling through the air at almost the speed of sound.

Teri's uniform was a blue suit jacket, cut low to expose a blouse patterned with a scattered profusion of flowers, and a skirt of the same colour, showing her stockinged legs from just below the knee downwards. I had already noticed how beautiful she was - her long and curly red hair, her green eyes and full lips. Now, walking behind her, I could appreciate the smooth curve of her buttocks and the exquisite length of her toned legs. In her low heels, she was marginally shorter than I.

When we reached the middle of the plane, Teri drew the fabric curtain between the galley and economy; the curtain between us and the business class section was already closed - even the sound of us lesser mortals must be kept from them.

"Look, this is very good of you, but I'm really not all that badly..." I began, before I was cut off by Teri pressing against me and roughly kissing me. Even through her suit and my T-shirt, I could feel the sharp points of her nipples and, as her arms slipped around my neck and I caught a whisper of expensive perfume, I began to kiss her back.

Her tongue lapped at my lips until I parted them and she rushed into me. Our tongues dueled, first mine fighting its way into her mouth, then her tongue pushing mine back into my own. It seemed to last forever, but it was probably under a minute before she broke the kiss and silently led me into the stewardesses bathroom. It was as cramped as the toilets in economy, but far cleaner and with a fresh, forest smell.

"We have to be very quick," she said. "The trolley will be back in about ten minutes."

Then she kissed me again, this time her hands going not to my neck but to my trousers. As she unzipped me, my hands stroked her breasts through her shirt. I quickly and carefully unbuttoned the jacket and blouse. Teri wore no bra. Her hands were stroking my cock now, having reached through the fly of my trousers and tugged it out of my underwear. Her breasts were full and round - with a bra they would have bulged immensely against her uniform, but unsupported they still only sagged a little. She had enormous, pink nipples, the areolae blending into the breasts without definition. I caressed them, first the breasts and then the nipples and she moaned, briefly, before stopping herself with a look of annoyance. My cock was rock hard in her eager hands.

"Fuck me," she whispered, "I'm ready."

She backed away, as far as the room allowed, and hoisted her skirt up exposing a lusciously damp, white cotton thong.

"Rip it," she said.

I obliged, my right hand grabbing it with shocking speed and violently tearing it off. I moved towards her, but even as I did, I placed the thong in my mouth and tasted her arousal. Her cunt was framed with a few curls of vivid,red hair. She had not released my cock and now she guided it towards her swollen, pink pussy and rested its head just inside. She finally released me and braced herself against the door and the sink. I thrust into her and we both gasped.

"Fast... and rough," she commanded.

I started to piston my hips in this, our oldest dance, and she responded. Supporting herself with her arms, her hips bucked towards me. Her pussy was as wet as any I have ever known, and yet it gripped me with amazing force. Likewise, my cock had never seemed so...full. Again, time seemed to slowly bleed away as we fucked, but what seemed like an age probably took only five or six minutes. As Teri came, the shudder in even her most intimate muscles grabbed me and pulled me over the edge with her. She bit my shoulder, to keep from moaning, and I heard a slight rip as the cheap T-shirt gave way. My come gushed into her and we stood, exhausted, against each other, my cock softening yet still completely engulfed by her cunt. She broke our stupor.

"Fuck, they'll be coming back." She pushed me gently back and my cock slipped out with a slick gloopy sound. She tugged down her skirt and buttoned up the blouse and jacket. She checked the mirror and straightened her already perfect hair; she took a bag from under the sink and reapplied her lipstick. I tucked my cock back into my underwear, zipped the trousers and checked my T-shirt. There was an inch-long tear along the shoulder seam, but no-one was concerned with my appearance. We were both flushed with our exertions, but there was nothing to be done about that. I made to give her the sopping and torn white thong, but she told me to keep it.

We exited the bathroom together, only to see Jane standing there, silently applauding.

Teri looked embarrassed until Jane laughed. "Don't worry," she said. "No-one else knows." She pinched my ass jokingly and said, "He's cute".

Teri grabbed a blanket and led me back to my seat. I sat down and she carefully tucked in the side next to the corpulent American. Before she did the other, her hand gave my cock one long and slow stroke. I was instantly hard.

She smiled and finished off her work on the blanket. Seeing no-one watching, she kissed me swiftly on the lips.

"This ought to keep you covered," she said.

* * * * *

Author's Note:

If people enjoy this sort of thing, let me know as I have plenty other little scenes that led nowhere. And should anyone want to take one of these scenes and write an actual story from it, I really would love to read it. As usual, I'd love to hear from you at the address in my profile.