99 Martinis: Uncensored - Erotica

Erotica

99 MARTINIS

Uncensored

Kim Corum

Belle Epoch

99 Martinis: Uncensored. Copyright © 2012 by Kim Corum.

This edition published in 2012 by Belle Epoch.

eBook ISBN–13:  978-1-938107-27-6

eBook ISBN–10:  1-938107-27-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. For more information, email belle_epoch@artrummedia.com.

First published by New Tradition Books in 2004.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

For those who long for something more.

Contents

The Setup

The Girl

99 Martinis: Uncensored

The Sacrifice

The Epiphany

First Contact

Honey, Don’t

Delivering a Package

I Think I love You

Infatuation Realized

Retaliation

The Brush-Off

Blow-Up

Do You Believe in Fate?

99 Martinis: Uncensored

Say Hello and Then Say Goodbye

Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.

—Truman Capote

The Setup

Life was getting on, as it should. The job in the mailroom was the job and it paid the bills, albeit, barely. The girl had fled, taken up with a Wall Street lawyer and I had just gotten over her and decided I should do something about my life before it moved away.

New York was New York and though I felt suffocated by all the subways, garbage and people, I was glad to have made it my home, though I kept looking away, towards an invisible mountain, in hopes of another life. It was just a reoccurring daydream I had. Nevertheless, I didn’t console myself with too many big dreams. I was just an ordinary guy living an ordinary life.

But life is live and it should be lived. So, I consoled myself and put away my misplaced dreams. It was time to be grown-up, even though grown-ups seldom have any fun and rarely use their imagination. And grown-ups are usually boring people even when they are in extra-ordinary situations. Like when they visit the zoo, they complain about the stink. Or when they ride a rollercoaster, they complain about the line. Kids don’t even notice. Grown-ups think like, It’s at least a two-hour wait and they walk away. They walk away and walk around for two hours doing nothing. At least the kids get to take a ride. What do the grown-ups get? Blisters.

However, I was a grown-up and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I had just celebrated my twenty-eighth.

I had a few buddies in the mailroom, Bern and Tim, and a few here and there on the various floors of the small publishing house where we worked. We’d nod at each other in the halls, complain about the man in the toilet and meet for a beer afterwards to forget about it all. Sometimes one of us would pick up some chick and fuck her then the next day someone had a story to tell to help make the time pass.

But right now, there was this ass right in front of me.

I’d never seen such an ass. The way it wiggled, just right. The way it was shaped, my dear God, the sheer roundness of it. It was astounding, this ass. It was being held captive in a little black skirt. The skirt didn’t so much cover it as hug it, squeeze it and shape it. The skirt gave it a home. Damn. It was almost as if it spoke to me. It was almost as if I reached out and patted it, it would simply smile and say, Thanks, I needed that.

The rest of the body wasn’t too bad, either.

She, whoever she was, turned around and glanced at me. I averted my eyes, stared up at the ceiling and continued rolling the mail cart behind her. I didn’t pretend to whistle.

I noticed she was slowing down as the end of the corridor was nearing. She was headed to the elevator, but so what? So was I.

She got on, turned and held the door for me. I rolled my mail cart in behind her, not taking my eyes off her ass. She didn’t take her eyes off my face, staring at me long and hard, obviously liking what she saw. She thought I was a good looking young guy. And I was. Lots of women liked what they say when they saw me; they liked the dark hair and green eyes and muscular build.

But her… Her shoulder length blond hair smelled of mangos. Was it natural? Did the rug match the curtains? I’ve never been much for blondes. They’re okay, I guess, but nothing is sexier than long, shimmering dark hair on a pillow.

But that ass…

She glanced back at me again. I decided, that, yes, she wanted it. Should we stop the elevator?

Then it happened very quickly. It was as if a magnetic force was taking over us and all I had to do was lean in for that first kiss. So, I leaned in and she leaned back, grabbing my head as I buried my face in her neck and began to lick and kiss. She moaned softly.

The elevator doors opened momentarily. We didn’t pull apart. Good thing that whoever was waiting on that door had left.

The doors dinged shut again. We glanced at each other. She lifted one finger and pressed the big red stop button. I had a feeling she was gonna do that all along. She turned to me and I turned to her. We stared without hesitancy at each other. We knew what we were gonna do. Here we were, strangers. Strangers who were about to get acquainted in the best kind of way.

And then we fucked. How else could I put it? There was no other way to describe it. We fucked. We went at it like old lovers, like animals, like we didn’t have much time. Her short skirt was up over her hips and my hand between her legs, feeling her wet, swollen pussy. It felt so good between my fingers. I pulled her panties off and threw them over my shoulder. She gave a little gasp and looked into my eyes. I stared back. She grinned and I pushed one finger deep inside her until she moaned.

She grabbed the front of my khakis and began to stoke my dick; she began to rub it, fondle it, and press herself up against it like it was the most important thing to her. And it jumped to life, becoming so rock hard it quivered. It wanted her so bad. It wanted her hands around it, giving it a good, hard stroke. I took her hand and helped her unzip my fly. Then she was down on her knees, giving me head. I held her head there, enjoying the way her wet lips kissed my shaft, then sucked on the tip. Damn, I could stay like that all day long. I stared down at her. She stared up at me with my dick in her mouth; her red lipstick was smeared slightly across it. She got back on task, sucking it so hard I could have come in a second flat.

I then realized we didn’t have much time.

I pulled her up. She grabbed onto my face with her hands and we were suddenly on the floor of the elevator, her legs in the air, my dick inside her. I pounded against her as hard as I could. She wanted more. I gave her more, each stroke bringing us closer to the end of our ride.

She moaned and arched away from the floor. I pushed my hand inside her shirt and squeezed her breast, pinching at her nipple and waited. She moaned louder and louder and I knew she was coming. A flood of good feeling wrapped around me as I realized I was giving her this, this experience, this orgasm, this time in space that only she and I would share, perfect strangers that we were. I loved knowing she’d later think about this and maybe blush. I knew she’d definitely smile. I knew I would. I loved knowing it was my turn to come, my turn to fuck her like she needed to be fucked. Like all women want to be fucked. Fucked like a slut, like the girl next door, like a whore. Like a woman. I loved knowing that as I fucked her, her orgasm would be intensified. That, maybe, it would last as long as mine did.

I began to hammer inside her, feeling it come, marching right up