Samples of my romantic/erotic short stories that are blog-length (400-800 words each). I can create stories in any genre, as large or small as you like. I hesitate to sell my own ideas/creative product but have been known to do so. Enjoy!
Romantic (Very) Short Story - 400 Words
Morning Commute
The police officer couldn’t hold my attention. I didn’t know who the man was and something in me desperately needed to know that. He had saved me from being mugged and possibly worse just a few yards from the bench I waited on every single morning while listening to Adele or Maroon 5 on my iPod. Everything going along the same until one day it isn’t the same at all and your world flips end over end.
I needed to talk to him. Know his name. Know him.
I saw his leather jacket disappearing up the exit and knew I couldn’t let him out of my sight. Ignoring the shouts behind me to wait, running with everything I had through the subway terminal, up the stairs, onto the street, and still I lost him. My head hurt as I looked around frantically.
“Please…I need to talk to you,” I whispered to myself. A tingling on the back of my neck had me turning. A fierce hope I didn’t understand slammed into my chest as dark eyes, almost black, stared back at me from the bagel shop a few feet away. He was fit and masculine without being too pretty. With a small smile, he held up two coffees in takeout cups. “I thought you could use some caffeine while you finished talking to the police.”
“Yes.” Both of us heard the relief in my voice. “Thank you.”
He inclined his head and I thought the gesture elegant. Something about him called to me. Made me think about things I’d never considered. Sharing a home, a life, with another human being. It was amazing and terrifying. He’d think I was crazy.
We walked together into the terminal, our shoulders occasionally touching. He handed me his card. Malcolm Z’Ander, Stock Broker. I gave him mine. Abigail Wills, Web Designer. Our cell phone numbers were listed.
As we approached the officers, he said quietly, “I never take this train, Abigail. I never notice other commuters. I left my apartment over an hour later than usual.”
I stopped walking and turned to face him. “I’m glad you were here today.”
Reaching out, he lightly traced a long, square-tipped finger over the bruise forming on my temple. “As am I.” Our eyes met and locked. “My grandmother would call this destiny. Do you believe in destiny, Abigail?”
I took a deep breath and smiled, “I do now.”
Romantic (Very) Short Story - 500 Words
Vegas
The sun was driving through the window of the hotel room and straight into my brain. Turning away, I saw the dark head beside me in bed and stilled instantly.
Who the fuck was this?
Struggling to remember the night before, I managed random snapshots of dancing, drinking, and sex. Extremely hot sex. Sex I’d never experienced in thirty-four years. Sex my ex-husband would have sold his soul to deliver.
Name. What is his fucking name?
I got nothing and felt panic rising as the object of my confusion stirred. Bright blue eyes stared at me, a smug grin framing perfect white teeth. “Good morning,” the sex god said with a deep voice that provoked muscle memory between my legs instantly. Holy shit.
What to say? “Er…” I managed and it caused dimples – fucking dimples – to pop in his cheeks as his grin got bigger.
“Don’t remember my name, do you?” I closed my eyes in mortification and shook my head once. “What do you remember, Lena?” Fuck, he knew my name and what I remembered, well, I felt the heat blaze over my face. He rolled toward me on his side and the vision of male beauty that greeted me struck me even dumb. Dumber than the excessive alcohol had made me. “Ah. So you do remember the hours of sex. Excellent.”
“Oh my god, did I pay you?”
One blink then a long silence. “Why would you think I’m a male whore?”
The nervous…alright hysterical titter that left my lips was something I’d never heard from myself. “Look at you. What the hell would you be doing in bed with me?” Just thinking about that made me tighten my fingers around the sheet that covered me. Sudden realization struck, “You were drunk, too. Right?” Beer goggles totally explained it.
His face tensed and he lifted up on his elbow. Reaching out, he snatched the sheet from my numb fingers and met my gaze directly. His palm stroked over my upper body and I cringed at what he was seeing in harsh daylight. I worked from home, ate what I wanted, and hadn’t worked out since college. I was considered chunky by society, media, and my ex.
When he spoke, his voice was almost hard and he never looked away from me. “I don’t drink. I don’t usually hook up with random women. I saw you drinking alone and you spilled your life story. A story I’d like to hear more of. Especially since you have Marilyn Monroe curves, Lena. You are beautiful, lush, and currently making me hard.” Moving, he settled between my thighs and added in a whisper, “I’m here for a restaurant convention, I live in Phoenix, and I’m unmarried as well as sane. My name is Kevin Judd. Allow me to introduce myself…again.”
As he rocked his hips forward I realized two things. He was hung like a horse and I was wearing a gold band on my left hand that hadn’t been there the night before. “Nice to meet you, Kevin. I’m Lena Davis…Judd?” He smiled and both of us stopped talking.
Romantic (Very) Short Story - 600 Words
One Last Time
I loved him so hard. Let him see all of me, take all of me, for the last time. Never again would I open the door of the Seattle condo I’d worked so hard for. Never again would I take him through the simple but beautiful rooms to my private sanctuary. Never again would he be allowed in my bed.
I hadn’t known in the beginning that he was married. By the time he told me I was already in love with him. I let him give me so little. I allowed myself to settle for what scraps he threw my way over the last year.
No longer.
Now, I felt the tears fall as his cock erupted inside me. Lost in pleasure as my own pleasure had once been lost in him. Hot jets spurted deep, his face locked in ecstasy, his fingers gripping my hips. Slowly he came down. His breathing and pounding heart settled back into normal rhythms. He reached up to smooth my hair from my face. “You’re more beautiful every time I see you, Lauren. So fucking beautiful it hurts. I miss you when we’re not together.”
I smiled but I didn’t mean it and he didn’t notice. “You don’t have time to miss me, Devon. Your family and career keep you busy.” I knew his wife’s money fueled his political aspirations, that her old-family connections guided him toward Congress, that despite her being cold and calculating he would never leave her.
At first, I thought we had a future. Three months later, when I learned he was married…who he really was…what he was, I wondered if he would choose me. Devon would never choose me. He was too selfish. He wanted it all and he didn’t think I realized that.
I was successful in my own right and came from modest wealth but he’d insisted on buying me things, taking me places, giving me money. It was only last week that I realized I was a transaction. Somehow, I’d allowed him to make me his whore. He gave me material things to ease his guilt because he knew I loved him. I’d sobbed, raged, felt sorry for myself until I saw the truth every whore should understand. If he considered me no better than a whore, that made him my john. Nothing more than a trick.
Today was the end. No man would ever paint me into a corner as this gorgeous, successful, piece of shit had done. I would never enable another person to make me feel like a whore.
I climbed off his body and shrugged on my robe, belting it snugly as I turned to face him. “You need to leave, remember?” He nodded and got up, dressing quickly until he looked like the slick politician who’d walked in little more than an hour ago.
“I’ll see you next week?” He always posed the statement like a question as he stood in my outer hallway, preparing to return to his “real” life.
“No. You won’t. We’re done.” Then I closed the door in his face and ignored the frantic knocking, then the phone calls and text messages. Over the next week I returned all the gifts, changed my phone number, and finalized the sale of my condo.
My old neighbor said he came by looking for me and nearly lost it when a strange woman opened the door. I stared out at the Manhattan skyline and smiled.
This time, it reached my eyes.
Romantic (Very) Short Story - 750 Words
The End of Fantasy
Quietly gathering her clothes, she tiptoed to the bathroom. Waiting until the door was closed before turning on the light, she faced her reflection with a touch of sadness. Her bubble of denial could no longer be sustained. She’d given him what he wanted, what he’d harassed her for over the two years they’d been together.
She’d enjoyed it. God knows she hadn’t expected to. Everything she thought she’d understood about herself was in upheaval. When he’d met her at the door with a female friend of a friend, Kailey had known why she was there and what was expected of her.
Tall and blonde, green eyes that seemed so mysterious, she’d been very different from Kailey’s own shorter, curvy stature. Everything about Kailey was darker. Hair, eyes, and skin. Tabitha had seemed enchanted and she didn’t understand why.
Several glasses of wine later, she found herself entwined with Samuel who was familiar, and Tabitha…who had been a surprise in more ways than one. Sex had never been easy for her. Vaginal orgasms were only possible with clitoral stimulation and boyfriends complained.
Yet a gorgeous woman, a stranger, had only positive feedback while they were together, letting her know she’d be extra gentle since it was her first time. How had she never known how good being with a woman would be? After Samuel drifted off to sleep, Tabitha had wrapped her in a cocoon of sensuality, whispering softly and stroking Kailey until she was more sexually sated than she’d ever been in her life. So many times she pushed her over the peak of climax, taking little for herself as she pleasured and encouraged.
When she was dressed, she bound her hair into a long ponytail and crept through the bedroom to the living room beyond. Tabitha sat on the couch. She was dressed and waiting. “Sneaking out?” she asked carefully.
“I…I need to go. I don’t want to see him right now. I have no idea what to say.”
Giving a little half smile, her green eyes bright, she quipped, “How about – you opened a can of worms so deal with it?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Even I heard the lack of honesty in my words and couldn’t look her in the eye. Sighing, I shook my head. “That’s a lie. I know exactly what you mean. I’m overwhelmed and tired. A little hung over.”
Standing, Tabitha grabbed her bag. “Let me buy you breakfast? I promise to listen. If you have questions, I’ll answer them.”
The waitress placed coffee in front of them and Kailey cleared her throat. “I…enjoyed last night. It makes me want more.”
“But…?” the other woman asked softly.
“Not with Samuel.” She was quiet for a long time, thinking. “He’s pressured me for so long. Made me feel like I couldn’t please him alone. Now…now I feel like he can’t please me at all.” Turning, she met Tabitha’s gaze. “I don’t know what to do about that.”
“I met Samuel through Nicki at the radio station.” She leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. “Since he learned I was bi-sexual, he’s talked about you. How you needed to be pushed into a threesome. After the Christmas party, I realized you needed someone to watch out for you. If you’d shown hesitation last night I would have backed off. Fuck what he wanted.” Sitting back, she placed her arm over the back of the booth. “And now, pretty Kailey, I want you for myself. I won’t push but I won’t pretend either.”
Kailey snorted and stared into her coffee. “You’re out of my league.”
Tabitha’s hand shot out and lifted my chin. “Make no mistake, Kailey. I want you. I want to show you what you’ve been missing. What you have a right to demand from every lover – male or female. No pressure. I’ll give you time to think about it.”
I did. I considered what I knew about myself and how every relationship had eventually failed in my twenty-six years. Temptation was there but so was a need to feel right when it came to sex. “Slow?”
A grin broke gradually over Tabitha’s face. “Oh yeah. We’ll go nice and slow. I’ll let you get used to the idea before I claim you completely.”
The waitress put down their plates and they talked, learned about one another. She’d learned all she wanted to about Samuel. That was done…the end of his fantasy world. After last night, she had a few fantasies of her own.
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