Portmanteau Ep. 01

This is the first installment in the anthology series entitled PORTMANTEAU.

Each installment of Portmanteau is a collection of three stand-alone erotic short stories, all loosely associated with each other.

If you are new to this series, you'll be pleased to know there is no specific starting place. The episodes can be read in any order without confusion.

A portmanteau story opens with a vignette from one of the stories, then begins the first story, pauses at its midpoint, tells a second story, then a third, then returns to the first story to complete it.

Each narrative does its best to world-build before getting intimate to give context to the passion. If you're looking for it to get hot, trust me, it will.

I've posted this series under erotic couplings because that category covers the overall gist of the three adventures, however, each story within the episode is uniquely different and could at times be categorized as something else.

Whatever your "thing" is when it comes to erotica, the Portmanteau series will probably cover it over the course of the series.

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PORTMANTEAU - EPISODE 1: A New York State of Mind

THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD (Erotic Couplings/Mature)

25 years after numerous close encounters placed them squarely in the friend zone, a mid-40s man and woman reunited for a date that might just start a new chapter in their lives.

WICKED GAME (First Time/MILF)

A college freshman is seduced by his roommate's mother in her quest to take his virginity.

THEN HE KISSED ME (Erotic Coupling)

Almost a year after they shared a passionate kiss on New Year's Eve, a young man and woman sneak off for an intimate night together to see if a kiss is just a kiss.

TAGS: Anal Sex, First Time, Blowjob, MILF, Mature, Swallowing, First Time, Nipples, Romantic, Virgin, Voyeur, Prostrate Massage, Anilingus, Cunnilingus, Huge Cock

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PORTMANTEAU - EPISODE 2: A New York State of Mind

• LOVE IN AN ELEVATOR (A vignette)
• THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD Part I
• WICKED GAME
• THEN HE KISSED ME
• THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD Part II

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LOVE IN AN ELEVATOR (A vignette)

The cab made good time despite chaotic late-night traffic due to the power outage.

The lights at the Plaza Hotel were still out as they exited the vehicle. Grant took Beth's hand and guided her through the hotel entrance and into the darkened lobby.

Then, as if by a miracle, the lights came on to the cheers of the guests and hotel workers.

"I'll see you to your room and should still have time to catch my train," Grant said.

Ahead the elevator doors were closing. Grant rushed to put a hand inside, and the doors reopened. They entered to find two people, a handsome young man and a stunning exotic young woman with dark hair and the eyes of a Persian princess. Both were in their mid-twenties, wearing hotel bathrobes and holding shopping bags with their clothes.

"Twenty-eighth floor," Beth stated.

"Already pressed. That's our floor," the young woman remarked.

The air inside the elevator was hot and sweaty. Beth inhaled deeply. A distinct smell of something familiar was hidden behind the floral and balsamic aroma of sandalwood.

Grant and the young man kept their gaze on the floor, each seeming uncomfortable sharing an elevator with strangers.

Beth looked at the exotic woman. "Come here often?" she asked with a wry approving smile.

"Whenever I can get off," the young woman aptly replied with a slight wink of her eye.

I see what you did there, Beth thought.

"Couple's massage?" Beth said aloud.

The young woman nodded in the affirmative.

"Grant, I am so getting a massage tomorrow. It's going on your tab," she said.

The lingering aroma of massage oil and the moist heat of the elevator were two of the three clues letting Beth know what had been going on before they entered.

"Make sure they use the German sandalwood, feels like bliss," added the young woman.

The third clue was a massage oil outline of a naked woman's back and ass on the mirrored elevator wall directly behind her.

"I can see," Beth said with an approving smile.

The young woman noticed Beth's gaze and turned to look at the wall, noticed her massage oil body imprint, then turned back to Beth and gave her a subtle pleased smile showing pride in her impromptu wall art.

The doors opened on the 28th floor. Grant pulled Beth in one direction while the robe-clad young man pulled the exotic girl the other way. As the two women exited, their arms brushed against each other, creating a brief skin-to-skin moment. Each woman looked at the other as the skin on their arms goose-bumped.

The moment was brief and then done as Grant guided Beth away.

"Do you think they were-," Grant started.

"Yeah, Grant, they were fucking in there," Beth whispered, watching the younger couple walk away.

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THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD (Part 1)

Grant sat at his computer, staring at the document before him. This was it. This was the end of a commitment he started 25 years ago. By entering his initials, it would all be over. Time to create a new chapter of his life, he thought. Hesitating for a beat, he hit the send button. Time to move on.

Clicking his way through emails, Grant was about to sign off when he clicked the Facebook icon on a whim.

Not much for social media; Grant had not visited this page in a long time. His profile filled the screen. His photo was outdated and still had him snuggled up next to Melody. I've got to change that picture, he thought.

Glancing at the friend request section, he saw a handful of names he didn't know or didn't care to know...but at the bottom of the list, initiated more than two years earlier, was Beth Lewis.

Beth was a close friend in college. Despite close calls, she and Grant never managed to time relationships right. Their past was filled with sexual tension, but the result was never more than the friend zone.

After graduation, she got married and lived nearby. They remained close for a few years, then lost touch about five years ago, not for any particular reason, just time and distance. Grant smiled and clicked ACCEPT on Beth's request. As he prepared to sign off, he received a Facebook message from Beth.

Two years? It takes two years to respond to my friend request?

Despite being alone in the room, Grant flushed with embarrassment at getting called out. I don't do Facebook often, Grant replied. Sorry for the delay.

Forgiven, she replied, adding in a winky face emoji.

Grant then corresponded with Beth back and forth, catching up on their lives over the missing years. He knew Ted had died a few years ago, but she was unaware Melody had left him about the same time.

After almost an hour of back-and-forth messaging, Beth suggested they meet in New York City as it was the midpoint between their homes. He was in Westchester; she was in New Jersey, so a Manhattan meet-up would be perfect. She suggested they catch a Broadway matinee and then dinner so they could make their respective late trains home, and a date was set for two weeks ahead.

It was a warmer than average fall afternoon as Grant exited the cab at Times Square and almost immediately got a text from Beth: Got caught up dress shopping at Bloomingdales. Almost there.

Grant took in the city's vibrant energy. It was only moments until he heard his name called and turned to see Beth walking toward him holding a Bloomingdale's bag.

A radiant woman in her mid-forties, it was an understatement to say Beth looked sensational. Dark hair with a fair complexion and violet eyes, she possessed a girl-next-door quality with a mysterious smile of unpredictability. She was a one-of-a-kind natural beauty.

She wore a black tiered halter dress exposing her shoulders and toned arms. The top of the dress covered her torso and terminated in a cloth circle around her neck like a collar, She was holding a sweater in her hands.

Grant had dressed business casual and suddenly felt out of her league.

As she got closer, he couldn't help noticing her small breasts were pleasantly outlined by the snug top. Grant could tell she was braless by the bare back and the hint of her nipples silhouetting the black cloth.

What a 'guy' move, he thought to himself, sexualizing a woman even before saying hello.

Beth smiled and walked toward him, her arms out for an embrace that they each held for too long a time.

Walking toward the theater, they played catch up with covering the missing years. Ted had died of a heart attack despite being young. Beth blamed his sedentary lifestyle and poor eating habits. She took over his Ford dealership but was a BMW owner and wanted to leave the car business. Grant could tell she seemed liberated, and while she was in no way celebrating Ted's death, most of her conversation was about the new adventures she had embarked upon. Grant brought her up to speed on the end of his marriage to Melody, who had left him five years earlier. He never saw it coming, although, in hindsight, he admitted the signs were everywhere.

After the show, they found a small bistro to seat them without reservations. Grant had forgotten how well Beth could light up a room and how she had no fear. With plenty of time before their trains home, they moved to a small booth at the bar and ordered cocktails. After several rounds, the conversation became far more informal, and personal opinions became less filtered.

"Confession time," Beth stated in a firm tone. "I was not a big fan of Melody. Not at all. She gave off a vibe. Not sure what. Something was off."

"Maybe next time you give me the heads up when your spidey sense is tingling," He replied. "I thought Ted might be gay when I first met him. I wasn't sure what to make of him marrying you."

"Jury's out on him. His browser history left many questions. Big dick pics. More men than women photos. Fantasy stories about cuckold stuff. Not sure whom I married. Well, it's in the past anyway," she said, swirling her cocktail olives and kicking back the drink.

"So how was it we never had a thing? she pressed."

"Timing," Grant replied. "We had at least three dates planned, and something always came up. I can't even remember what."

"You stood me up at the Rocky Horror Picture show. I was pissed off," she said with a mock frown.

"I remember the night in question. By the time you finally accepted my apology, you had a boyfriend," he replied. "That's on me."

"Yeah, you missed the window big time. Hey, since we're telling some stories, lets play a game. An icebreaker. We do this at conferences: two truths and a lie. We tell two true facts and one lie. Whoever guesses the most correctly is the winner."

"What do we win?" Grant asked.

Beth looked around. "Underwear," she whispered flatly.

"Underwear? Like one of us has to buy the other underwear?"

"Not buy, just take off what you have and surrender to the other. You win; I give you my intimates. I win; you give me your underwear. You are wearing underwear, right?"

"Yes, I am."

"Then it's agreed. Gotta have high stakes or the game has no risk.

"You bet underwear at conferences?" Grant queried.

"No, but we should," she shot back. "I'll go first. One of these things is a lie. My husband asked to be buried with his baseball card collection. Instead, when he died, I sold it for $125,000."

Grant was intrigued. "Why did he-"

Beth put up a finger to stop him. "No questions. Two more. I've never had anal sex."

Grant swallowed hard as the conversation had just taken an unexpected turn, but that was always a thing with Beth.

"And number three, I like to swallow at the end of a blow job. Absolutely love it."

Grant's head was swimming as he stammered to reply, "I did not expect this game to go there."

"Makes it more fun if you throw in some sex stuff," Beth said, holding a poker face. "People always try to imagine other people's sex lives, so when you put it on the table in a game like this, it confuses. Your turn."

"Let's see," Grant thought for a beat. "One, I am unemployed. Two, I had sex with my college freshman roommate's mom."

Beth's eyes lit up, "Barry Weckenstein's mom?"

"And three, Melody and my secretary offered me three-way. I declined."

"I'll guess first," Beth stated. "You're wearing a $1,000 watch and dressed in Brooks Brothers...I don't think you're unemployed. The college roommate mom thing? When? Where? So many moving parts to the story. I would say it's a lie. However, that means you are unemployed, which you are not."

"The three-way? I can in no way believe you turned it down. No guy turns down a three-way, especially when his wife offers and participates, and the third is a female. The secretary was a woman, right?"

Grant nodded affirmatively.

"Oh boy. Okay, the Unemployment and the roommate's mom thing are true."

"Final answer?" Grant asked.

Beth nodded.

"So close. The three-way offer was true. I passed. Melody was the type to use sex as a weapon. I didn't want to give her something for her arsenal, although I still have some regrets, but no, no three-way. Also, I really am unemployed."

"So, you banged your roommate's mom?" Beth sought clarification. "You had sex with Barry Weckenstein's mother?"

"Yes, she showed up in my dorm room, and it was this crazy Mrs. Robinson thing. The story gets even crazier. I'll need a few more drinks before I can retell it."

"Can't believe I got one wrong," Beth declared. "Must be the cocktails. Your turn."

"Okay," Grant replied. "Baseball card thing, false. You're a rule follower. You buried the cards with Ted. This means you never had anal, and you like to swallow."

Beth looked at Grant and smiled. "You're good, right on all three counts. Yeah, I buried the asshole with his cards. What kind of schmuck takes his wife's inheritance to the grave with him? As for anal, Ted had many issues when it came to thinking outside the box, literally. And yes, I like to swallow. Something about overpowering a man and making him finish on my terms. It's a power thing, I guess. I think I'm addicted to controlling big dick energy. Does it make me a bitch?"

"No," Grant replied, "it does make you the boss."

Beth got up. "I gotta pee so bad. Be right back. Order me a vodka tonic."

Grant recounted the conversation as he counted the many glasses on the table. The waiter cleared the empties, and Grant placed another order, then looked at his watch. Beth returned and slid into the booth right next to Grant. In her hand was a pink cloth which she slipped into his jacket pocket.

"My best Fleur du Mal thong; I'll want it back when you are done with it."

"Done with it?" he asked.

"From what I know of men, you put a pair of used underthings in a man's pocket; he's going to want to sniff them. It's a primal urge, a caveman thing. Some guys want to wear them. You do you-"

"We've got a problem," Grant interrupted, "your last train is in about 20 minutes, and we're at least 25 minutes from the station."

Beth pulled out her phone and checked the time. "Damn. Well, no big deal. I'll get a room and take the morning train." She began to work the hotel apps on her phone.

"I'll get you a room," Grant responded. "This was my date, and I'm the one who lost track of time."

"Very sweet. However, unless you were lying about being unemployed, I'll take care of it. And, this dinner too."

"I didn't lie. I don't have a job because I sold my company two weeks ago. Eastern Corrugated," he said sheepishly.

Beth looked at him, somewhat lost.

"We make boxes," Grant announced with pride.

"Oh, sounds nice," she kindly replied.

"We make a lot of boxes. Boxes for a big company which likes to use a lot of boxes. You've seen these boxes. They all have smiles on them. Millions of them. You've probably got five or six in your recycle bin right now. The deal closed, I got my check, and I'm officially unemployed...for life."

Beth looked at him with a genuine smile. "Retired at 46 years old. Not exactly how most people define unemployed," she said as she punched buttons on her phone. "Luxury suite at the Plaza. 28th floor. Could only get a courtyard view. You're paying boxboy. Also, I think you owe me your underwear because the unemployed thing was a stretch."

Grant reached into his pocket and fondled the thin thong only to find it damp. Rubbing his thumb over the crotch, he had to resist the temptation to pull out the thong and take a deep inhale of her scent. Damn, she was so right about everything, he thought.

Outside, a thunderstorm was raging. Running into a cab, the two were soaked from the short sprint through the rain.

"The Plaza Hotel," Grant said to the Cabby. Looking over at Beth, she was soaked from the downpour. Her top clung to the curves of her breasts, revealing more than she had intended for this date.

"Had a lot of fun today," Beth said with a smile. "Not sure why we took so long to reconnect."

"When Melody left me, I put myself deeper into work. Thought maybe I could hide there."

"No dates?" Beth queried.

"A few, nothing exceptional. Mostly blind dates set up by well-intentioned friends. No spark. No love songs."

"Love songs? You write love songs about your dates?" Beth asked with surprise.

"No, I hear love songs in my head. If I'm falling for someone, my brain is like a DJ who finds a love song like a soundtrack to my life."

"So, how many songs are on this playlist?"

"Just two. For Melody, the song was Let's Stay Together by Al Green."

"Didn't hold up too well, did it?" Beth added with a little dig.

"Apparently, the DJ in my brain likes to live in the moment only."

"The other one?" Beth asked.

"Well, Mrs. Weckenstein told me not to fall in love with her...so naturally, I did. Her song was Wicked Game."

"And the DJ in your brain somehow didn't select Mrs. Robinson? Total missed opportunity," Beth said with a laugh.

A flash of lightning lit up the car then, just as quickly, everything outside went dark. Beth hunkered against Grant for safety.

"Don't worry, I got you," Grant said, comforting her.

"Blackout," said the Cabby, "gonna slow us. Traffic lights will be out."

Beth looked out at the dark city, which was occasionally lit up by a flash of lightning. Grant was looking at Beth, still close to him, and thinking of how often their paths crossed, but life always got in the way.

WICKED GAME

Grant had settled into his freshman year at college rather well. He was away from home for the first time and excited about his future. College life gave him the freedom to have fun and, most of all, the opportunity to finally lose his virginity.

At eighteen years old, there was nothing wrong with Grant. He was handsome, athletic, and outgoing. He never intended to hold onto his virginity this long, but his only girlfriend to this point had been an Apostolic Christian bent on keeping herself pure for a future husband. Their relationship ended over a year ago, and Grant was no closer to getting laid.

Grant's roommate was Barry Weckenstein, a fun-loving character with the gift of charm and seduction. Barry was a ladies' man who seemed to find a different girl to bring back to their dorm room each weekend night. Grant often returned to his room to find a sock on the doorknob, code for girl in the room.