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Audio Erotic
Friction Fiction |
Welcome
to Girlphoria's Audio Erotic Friction Fiction for June. We have a delicious treat
for you three sensual tales of delicious debauchery, self pleasurement and passion.
Our
first is called A View To
Screw by Karen L. Newman: In this story, a woman finalizing her divorce
finds love and a captive audience with her divorce lawyer. They get together after
she slips in her high heel shoes and exposes her corset, lace slip, and bare pussy
to him by accident.But as we all know there are no real accident.
Our
second story is Soaking
the Buds of Spring by Anabel Blake. A young woman explores the budding
spring and her own pleasures. nothing between her passions but the air, flowers
and sky.
Our
third story Dinner Party by
Kayleigh Jamison is set in the deep south before the Civil War, "Dinner
Party" is a story of seduction and sexuality that explores the blurred lines
between friendship and adoration, duty and desire. Will prim and proper Anna Jackson
finally recognize the truths of her own heart or will she stay locked within the
role she feels she was destined to play?
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A View to a Screw
by Karen L. Newman
Copyright 2006
[ mp3 audio ]
Janice Pinkerton pulled into the parking lot of Dillard, Brown, and Monroe,
PSC just before 5 pm. “Whew, I just made it”, she said to herself,
glancing in the rearview mirror. Her makeup intact, she got out of her blue Honda
and ran up the steps to an old townhouse located in the middle of the city.
No one was at the receptionist’s desk when she opened the door. Standing
in the dark foyer, she heard footsteps barreling down the stairs just inside the
hallway. “Hi Jan,” said her attorney, Jonathan Monroe, “I saw
you come in. My receptionist, Carla, had to leave early so I finished up your
final divorce papers. They’re upstairs in my office, ready for you to sign.”
“Thanks, Jonathan.”
“No problem.”
As Jonathan, a tall man with sandy hair, led the way up the stairs to his office,
Janice heaved a sigh of relief. Her marriage to her high school sweetheart was
finally over. Twelve years of absolute hell. Her friends and family had told her
to not to get married so soon after graduation. If only she had listened.
The only bright spot during the divorce was Jonathan. He had been so kind, even
answering her legal questions without charge when she called him at home. He listened
to her and never told her to shut up like her soon-to-be ex-husband Michael.
Halfway up the staircase, Janice’s three inch heel caught on a step. She
grabbed the rail with both hands, but not before she fell backwards onto her toned
ass. She winced at her aching rear and hurt pride.
“Are you alright?” Jonathan asked. “Here, let me help you.”
Janice blushed under his hot gaze, realizing he could see the red corset that
rested just above her bare pussy. She took his soft tan hand and he pulled her
up to her feet. Mortified, she pushed her black silk skirt back over her lacy
red slip and matching garter belt that held up her thigh high hose. After Michael
left her, she wore sexy undergarments to try to feel better about herself. She
felt worse now.
“I’m OK, thanks. I’m such a klutz. I really shouldn’t
be wearing these heels. I can hardly walk in them.”
“You look great in them. Hot, actually.”
“Really?” His fingers caressed her soft palm.
“Really. Please come into my office and take a seat.”
“Let me get my purse first before we go upstairs.”
Janice released his hand and went downstairs, following a trail of her makeup,
checkbook, brush, and birth control packet to the empty handbag at the bottom
of the stairs.
To her dismay, Jonathan followed her.
“That’s OK. I’ve got it.” Janice shoved everything she
could find into her purse as fast as possible.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Jan.”
“Uh, thanks.” She averted his gaze.
“I think you forgot something.” He handed her the birth control packet.
She snatched it from his outstretched hand and dropped it in her bag.
“It’s not what you think. I’m not seeing anyone. It’s
just a habit. Michael never wanted kids.”
“I’m glad. Uh, I mean that you’re not seeing anyone. The paperwork’s
upstairs,” he stuttered.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.”
“No trouble. I enjoy spending time with you.” Jonathan turned and
went up the stairs. |
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| Janice followed him with careful, deliberate steps.
They walked through the doorway and he turned into her. She looked up into his
light chocolate brown eyes. She was shocked at the burning desire in them. Jonathan
lifted her chin with his right index finger. Janice closed her eyes as she wrapped
her arms around him. His soft dry lips touched hers. They opened their mouths
together and French kissed, his slippery tongue thrusting in rhythm with his pelvis.
Jonathan backed her into the office while she loosened his striped tie. Jonathan
fondled her neck and long auburn hair as he guided her toward his desk. Janice
moaned at his touch. He pushed her black jacket to the floor and filled his hands
with her white silk blouse. He pulled on the fabric. Janice’s eyes widened
as the buttons flew off. They bounced on the desk and onto the Persian rug. She
giggled as she did the same to his white cotton shirt.
Janice raked her hands across his chest hair, stopping periodically to fondle
his nipples. Jonathan pulled her to him. As he untied her corset, she nibbled
his shoulder and neck. He pulled the corset down along with her slip and skirt,
exposing her plump, round breasts. Janice pushed him back.
“Here, let me undo my garter belt.”
She fumbled with the slick round buttons, losing her concentration as he batted
at her hanging breasts like a kitten. They both laughed.
“Behave. I have to get these off.”
“Oh, I don’t think you really want me to do that.” Jonathan
put his hand on the desk and pushed his files and papers onto the floor.
Janice giggled. “You’re right.”
After several minutes, she kicked off her high heel shoes and rolled the hose
off her feet, her hands trembling with excitement. She hadn’t been laid
in almost a year. He then placed her on the edge of his desk. He knelt before
her spread-eagled legs and licked her clitoris. Soon she came in undulating waves
of pleasure, screaming and whimpering. Afterwards, Janice stared at the ornate
ceiling, her breaths in short staccato gasps.
“I want you,” he whispered.
Janice sat up and saw Jonathan sitting naked in a maroon leather chair. She licked
her lips at the sight of his swollen member as she walked toward him. She knelt
beside him and placed his hot cock in her warm mouth. She grabbed his balls and
fondled them while she moved her mouth up and down his shaft. She tasted the saltiness
of his pre-cum.
Jonathan grabbed her hair and tilted her face to him. “I want to be inside
you.” His raspy breath warmed her ear.
Janice got up and straddled the chair. She bent her knees as she placed herself
on his hard cock. Slowly she moved up and down, then faster and faster, until
they both came in unison.
Sweaty and breathing hard, Janice asked, “Do you hear something?”
Loud voices combined with car horns in the direction of the window that faced
the street.
“I think it’s coming from outside,” Jonathan replied, his eyes
wide.
Janice got up off his lap. Jonathan grabbed her hand and pulled her to the floor.
Together they crawled to the window. They both looked out over the sill and saw
a small crowd of people yelling, waving, and honking their horns.
Janice’s face turned red and she slumped to the floor. “How much did
they see?”
“It seems to me they must have seen everything.”
Her head in her hands, Janice mumbled, “I’m so sorry. What’ll
happen to you?”
Janice felt him pry her fingers from her tousled hair. She lifted her head and
looked in his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it. Just sign the divorce papers. After that you’ll
no longer be my client. We can be together.”
Tears brimmed in her green eyes. “Really?”
“Really.”
Janice hugged him. His strong arms enveloped her and she felt like her life’s
movie had just begun.
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Soaking the Buds of Spring
By Anabel Blake
by Copyright 2006
[ mp3 audio ]
I clipped a pink tulip from my garden and twirled the bloom between my fingers.
Its stem was firm and straight. I dipped the flower into a crystal flute of water
and stared at the budding trees and the beating warmth of sunlight. Closing my
eyes, I inhaled the earthy aroma of the moist soil and felt the warmth on my face
and neck. I stroked my breastbone and let my fingertips touch the curve of my
breasts under my blouse. My skin tingled and my vagina opened slightly.
Spring had burst with a fertile explosion, yet I had no one to share it with.
More important, no one could help my release the pent-up tension and longing of
the winter. Spring fever was too much for me to stand. After a day of experiencing
the smell and intensity of this season’s romance, I could not bear the anticipation
any longer.
The sun was shining, and the day was warm enough to skip a jacket. That afternoon,
I had decided to play hooky from work and nurture my garden. I pulled a quilt
from the closet and my canvas purse, and, peering into my kitchen cupboard, found
a jar of clover honey. I warmed it in the microwave and stepped back outside.
My yard, already dotted with colorful buds and greens, was enclosed by a tall
wooden fence that gave me much-needed privacy any day of the week. This afternoon,
I was open to the sky and trees and sheltered from the human world. I spread out
my quilt on the soft grass and reclined, taking in the breathtaking scene.
Without waiting, because I could not, I unbuttoned my blouse and began to nurture
myself. Pulling off my bra straps with ease, I fingered my nipples between my
thumb and middle finger just as I had the tulip stem until they began to tingle.
I then grabbed my entire breasts with two hands, and continued to rub the nipples
with my fingers until they swelled and reddened. My panties became slick and wet.
I pulled off my shorts and panties and lay in the afternoon sun, exposed. I could
not resist lying back on the quilt and spreading my legs for the world to see.
I fingered my pussy, which was now very slick and glistening. I splayed my legs
wide with my arms, holding them back to present my pussy and asshole in the most
exposed way possible. That very position and the bath of sunlight on my pale skin
aroused me to such a frenzy that I felt I could come right then, even before touching
myself there. My clitoris tingled with the sensation. But I had more to do before
coming.
Opening the bottle of honey, which was still warm to the touch, I dipped my fingers
in the thick, sweet liquid and, after tasting it, gently began to rub it on my
oh-so-throbbing clitoris. I circled my clit, rubbing the honey all over it, massaging
the sides with my fingertips, then thrust three sweet fingers into my deep vagina.
With a gasp, I thrust my fingers in and out and could not suppress a shout. On
the quilt, cushioned by the grass, I arched my back so my smooth body could take
in more of the balmy air. I brought my fingers back to my clit and began to circle
it with greater intensity.
My bag, still nearby, had the last essential part of this spring reawakening.
I, still rubbing my clit with a warm, sweet finger, teased my asshole with the
other finger (this made my drip hot liquid from my pussy) and then thrust my vibrator
into my swelling pussy hole. Oh God, I could not stand the pleasure. The pleasure
started to swell upwards, upwards—I swirled my clit faster and faster and
thrust the vibrator deep and fast, and swelling upwards, began to squeal, “Oh
God! Oh God!” My hips thrust upwards and I came, came, came, with an orgasm
that gushed through my fingers and down my legs. The hot liquid inflamed my pussy
vibrations and I came a second time, violently, not concerning myself with the
sounds I was making. I was soaked. Spring had come for me.
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Dinner Party
by Kayleigh M. Jamison
Copyright 2006
[ mp3 audio ]
The plantation was a bustle of activity; slaves and hired workers moving at
a frenetic pace, carrying this floral arrangement to that table, this decoration
to that room, this bow to that tree, all under the critical, unrelenting supervision
of the manor's self-appointed major domo. This was the first dinner party of the
year for Rosewood Plantation, and everything would be perfect, or there would
be hell to pay. And though few in and around Savannah were aware of it, hell's
messenger had, of late, appeared in the form of a nineteen year old southern beauty,
who happened to be the daughter of Rosewood's owners.
In her bedroom on the second floor of the house, Anna Jackson was in a panic.
"Mrs. Kent!" she shrieked, "Mrs. Kent where are you?"
Out on the porch the older woman sighed and rolled her eyes. "No, no,"
she corrected a servant, heading in the wrong direction with an armful of flowers,
"the roses and bougainvillea go by the bandstand, which is behind the house!"
"Mrs. Kent!" Anna yelled again.
"Oh, stop being so dramatic," Anna's friend, Caroline Hardwicke,
exclaimed. She was draped across the bed lazily, arms flung out above her head,
dressed only in a thin cotton chemise and knickers. Her blonde hair was an untamed
mess of curls around her face, a few errant strands plastered to her cheeks with
sweat. "The party isn't for hours yet."
"I have to be ready early, Caroline," Anna told her sternly.
"Why? It's so hot out you'll wilt in the first five minutes."
"Well, that's the price of beauty, now isn't it?" the other girl
countered, lightly patting her dark brown locks, perfectly coifed into tight little
ringlets that fell around her apple cheeks, bringing out the deep aqua of her
eyes.
"It's all foolishness if you ask me," Caroline scoffed, flipping
onto her stomach to peer curiously at her friend. "I don't plan on marrying
until I'm twenty five, at least."
Anna gasped. At nineteen, she was already late in finding a suitable husband.
Her mother had planned this party to find her a suitor, get her married, and be
done with the entire mess. "Twenty five? You are positively mad." She
reached for the corset that lay draped across her chair and yelled again for Mrs.
Kent. Where was the older woman? How could she be expected to dress with no one
to lace her corset?
"Why?" Caroline asked, rolling off the bed and climbing to her feet.
"Here, I'll help you."
Anna turned and grabbed the bedpost with both hands, taking a few final, deep
breaths. "As women, what other duties do we have besides being a wife and
a mother?"
Caroline smirked and leaned forward, pressing her cheek against Anna's hair.
"To enjoy the finer things of life, darlin'." She wrapped the corset
around her friend's torso, allowing her hands to brush across the firm swell of
Anna's breasts.
Anna sucked in her breath sharply and closed her eyes, unprepared for the spark
of electricity that Caroline's touch had produced. She silently told herself that
it had been unintentional, though the irrational part of her hoped that it had
not. "The finer things?" she asked in a somewhat choked voice.
"Of course," Caroline seemed not to notice the dark-haired girl's
reaction.
"Men are so hard and uncaring. Why subject yourself to that a second earlier
than you have to?"
"Camille Anderson says that-"
"Camille Anderson doesn't know much about anything," Caroline countered.
"She's a fool."
Anna was gripping the bedpost so tightly that she thought it might splinter
in her hands. She felt a strange sensation flood her, a warmth that spread from
somewhere in her middle, between her legs. "What-" she stopped and cleared
her throat, "what are the finer things in life?"
Caroline's hands circled Anna's waist and this time there was no mistaking
her intent as she cupped the other woman's breasts in her hands. Her thumbs traced
around the tiny buds of Anna's nipples, which hardened instantly at her touch.
"Turn around," Caroline whispered, tongue snaking out to tease the soft
flesh of her friend's earlobe, "and take this ridiculous thing off."
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Anna complied, letting the corset fall to the floor. She felt self-conscious
beneath her friend's hungry gaze and experienced a brief moment of guilt.
"Don't think," Caroline instructed, "just feel." She leaned
forward and captured Anna's lips, in a soft, gentle kiss. Her hands busied themselves
removing Anna's chemise, and she broke their kiss just long enough to slip the
simple garment over her lover's head and toss it away. She bent her head and took
one tiny nipple into her mouth, flicking her tongue lazily as she suckled the
sensitive nub.
Anna moaned, feeling a rush of fluid between her thighs. She threaded her fingers
through Caroline's blonde curls and closed her eyes. She stifled a sigh of disappointment
when she felt the wet warmth of her lover's tongue withdraw, but didn't suppress
her moan when it returned, this time on her other breast.
Caroline pushed her onto the bed and crawled between her thighs, spreading
them wide before her. She paused, inhaling the musky scent of her lover's arousal,
pushing her own desire to the back of her mind. With two fingers she parted the
slick folds of Anna's sex, already gleaming with moisture.
Anna lost all rational thought at the first touch of her lover's tongue –
a light sweeping lick that covered the length of her. Caroline concentrated her
attentions on the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden beneath the nest of chestnut
curls, coaxing the firm bud out from beneath its hood and laving it with steady,
hard strokes. She withdrew momentarily, plunging her tongue deep into the silky
depths once, twice, three times.
Anna cried out when she felt one slender finger slide into her slick heat.
The other woman's tongue returned to her clit, lapping at the unsheathed bud with
slow, loving strokes. Anna's legs began to tremble and she bit back a scream.
A second finger slid inside of her and began to pump in and out, hooking upwards
in search of the hard kernel of flesh deep within her. Caroline pursed her lips
and sucked, swirling her tongue in tiny circles. Anna's moans grew louder, more
desperate and she ground against her lover's face with reckless abandon.
Caroline's fingers continued to massage Anna's g-spot. She felt the first,
fluttering contracts of climax and increased the pressure of her fingers and her
tongue. Anna was gripping her hair so tightly that it was almost painful.
When she climaxed, Anna's entire world seemed to explode; her vision darkened
and faded, her hips bucked reflexively, her cries transitioning into hoarse, frantic
screams. Caroline continued to lick at the soft folds, guiding her lover through
her orgasm, bringing a second swiftly on the heels of the first.
Once her lover's shudders had subsided, Caroline slid up her body, planting
a trail of tiny kisses in her wake. She kissed Anna gently, stroking her cheek,
running a hand through the now-ruined brown curls.
"First we'll get you dressed again," she said with a smile. "Then
we'll enjoy the party. And then it's my turn."
Later that night, Anna Jackson found herself dancing with gentleman after gentleman.
All were handsome, well-bred, and wealthy. All asked the same question of her,
and all received the same answer.
"May I call on you again sometime, Miss Anna?" the final suitor asked,
and though his voice was soft and gentle, his eyes left little speculation as
to what he expected her answer to be.
"No, Mr. Harwood," she replied smoothly with a brief glance at Caroline.
"I don't believe I'm terribly rushed to be courted at this time. There are
finer things in life, you see, and I would like to enjoy them."
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