Anything She Wants Read online

  I wasn’t wrong. I flicked my tongue up and down, up and down on the swollen nub, trying hard to concentrate as Clarissa’s breaths turned to gasps and her moans grew more feral. I gently pushed her backwards so she was leaning against the door—I didn’t want her legs to give out as she came, or even before.

  I curled two fingers inside her cunt as I circled her clit with my tongue and began to stimulate both her most erogenous zones at the same time. The nub at the apex of her vulva swelled further, and her walls clenched hard around my fingers. She was close.

  I paused, only to purse my lips and wrap them around her clit, sucking it into my mouth, gently at first, then harder, applying a consistent amount of pressure as my fingers stimulated her g-spot at the same time. I’d barely gotten into my stride when she stiffened, falling utterly silent for several seconds before her cunt swelled and gripped so hard my fingers were forced out of her. They were followed by juices, copious juices, which covered my hand and arm.

  Her shuddering, grunting state told me she’d also reached a more conventional climax and I deemed it safe to shift my lips from her clit. I shifted back and looked up at her face, her beautiful face as it contorted with pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head, the lids fluttering shut. She looked as though she was in heaven.

  I felt like I was, too. She’d barely touched me, and certainly not intimately, but I felt blissed-out, too. I suspected it was the situation—I’d just made the woman of my dreams shudder and come all over my hand. It was probably the first time in years that she’d climaxed without the aid of a toy or her own hand, and I would have happily done it again, and again.

  But there was no time. Soon people would be looking for both of us. We had certain things expected of us, and others would make sure we did them.

  Reluctantly, I reached out and grasped Clarissa’s knickers and handed them back to her. What I really wanted to do was take out my cock and fuck her with it. Fuck her hard and fast and through until she came all over again.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, offering me a shy smile.

  I bit back a laugh. We’d just gotten intimate—though not intimate enough, in my opinion—and now she was getting all coy? I decided to let her off. I was her first woman, and her first lover in a very long time, so the situation was really quite odd for her.

  “For the knickers, or the orgasm?”

  She’d been bending over to put her underwear back on, and she paused halfway down, putting her head about level with mine, as I still knelt on the floor.

  “Both,” she whispered. Pressing a quick kiss to my lips, she then continued with her task, stepping into her panties—miraculously without getting them caught on her shoes—and pulling them up. Dropping her dress back into place, she began to tug and pull at it, making sure it was how it should be, then set about smoothing her hair down.

  I got to my feet and did nothing, except watch her. I checked my clothes, but they weren’t messed up, and my cropped hairstyle was literally impossible to ruffle. It was almost as though nothing had happened.

  When Clarissa finished tidying herself up, she did something completely and utterly unexpected. She pulled the pen from the top pocket of my shirt, grabbed my wrist and wrote a number on my hand. With a grin, she said, “Call me.”

  Quickly, she turned and unlocked the door, peeking out into the corridor before slipping silently away. I pushed the door closed, needing a few more minutes to myself. If anyone found me, I’d claim I had a headache and was just having a little respite. With Clarissa gone, there was no reason to doubt me.

  The rest of my shift passed so slowly I thought someone was messing with the clocks. It was torture, seeing the woman I’d just made love to work the room, give and receive smiles and shake hands. I wanted those hands on me, for her to return the favour, to come all over her dainty fingers and regal mouth.

  God damn it, but I was in love. It was insane, truly insane. And yet... she’d given me her number. I called the very next morning and was startled when she answered. From there we arranged our next meeting. Just like that, my evening of loving the lady had gone from a one-off I had almost written off as a dream to a true relationship—albeit a secret one.

  But my god, she is worth it.

  Hooked

  Erzabet Bishop

  “No, Jessica. You hook it like this.” Gripping the scarlet sport weight yarn in her hand, Mercy maneuvered the hook until the stitch came out just right. “Class, I want you to all take out your phones and look up how to do a single crochet stitch.”

  Nine distinct grumbles ensued, but the women laughed and pulled out their androids and iPhones, linking to the internet.

  “Excellent. This is one of the best ways to watch and learn. Repeat after me. Videos are my friend.”

  A chorus of feminine voices echoed her own and everyone began to laugh.

  “Mercy, you kill me.” Jessica grinned, holding up the bikini top she had been working on for two months. “When are you going to get your Naughty Crochet series up and running?”

  “Oh. I don’t know. Soon maybe.”

  “But we need you! Who else is going to show us how to crochet a thong, for goodness sake?”

  “You are doing great, Jess.” Mercy gave her shoulders a squeeze and turned to face the group.

  “Okay, gang. The project list for this month includes a bondage cuff pattern or a simple headband for you ladies who don’t want to frighten the fish, so to speak.” Mercy smiled as the group began to titter with laughter. “The project models are up on the board for you to see. Personally, I think the black and pink ones are wicked cool.”

  “Mercy?” A young redhead in the back of the room stood up.

  “Yes, Arlene.”

  “Can you help me with last month’s project? I can’t seem to get this right at all.” Arlene held up a gray vibrator cozy that was supposed to be rectangular but had somehow gone horribly wrong.

  “Oh wow, honey. What have you done?” Joan, a woman in her mid-forties asked, holding up her own completed project.

  “Remember that little scarf you made last Christmas, Joan? Don’t judge.” Mercy raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Can you see if you can help Arlene figure out where her stitches went wonky while I get everyone set up?”

  “Sure.” Joan slid her chair down and the two began comparing notes.

  “Thanks.” Mercy looked around the room. Ladies were poking through some of the new wools and synthetics she had brought back with her from market. Others were at the back of the room in the kitchen sampling the iced tea and cookies she had prepared while they decided what kinkery they were going to create this week.

  “Okay class, decide which project you want to start and I’ll be around to talk with you about yarn selection. For anyone interested in next month’s pattern, we’re going to work on a matching set of panties and a sleeping mask.”

  Mercy made her way to the back of the class and watched the ladies race to the project board and sign up sheet. Naughty Crochet had to be her most popular class night ever. She had sunk her life savings into this shop and was determined to offer something a bit different than the average doilies and baby sweaters most of the local yarn stores offered. She really did want to have someone film her projects and market them, but the right opportunity had yet to present itself.

  “Ladies, don’t forget to take your measurements for next month. You’re going to need them for the panty sizing.”

  Mercy didn’t even bother to listen to the griping her announcement prompted. She understood. Not a slim woman, she flinched whenever she had to get on a scale, measure body parts, or go shopping. Her best kinky moments were in her head and through her crochet hook. Not to even mention her stash of smut novels. It was her secret joy and every night after work she retreated into the bedroom with a glass of wine, her latest erotic pick and her sketch pad. It was how most of her projects had been born.

  Her thoughts drifted to the bakery across the parking lot and she wondered if h
er friend Carly was going to make it. She was hip deep in making cupcakes for Fifty Shades parties, but she said she was going to try and come over. Mercy sighed at the pulse of heat between her legs when she thought of Carly’s long red hair and bright green eyes. The girl was a veritable ball of energy. Mercy had been secretly in love with her since the first moment she had stomped in the shop and demanded Mercy come over and try one of her famous gourmet cupcakes.

  A gorgeous woman who could bake. It was fate and Mercy was doomed. As far as she could tell, Carly didn’t date. Ever. It didn’t give a girl much hope. Sighing, she dove back into helping the ladies with their projects.

  Before she knew it, the hour and a half was up and the last of the class was filing out the door. Mercy swept off the table and pushed in the chairs. The classroom set back to rights, she went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of tea. Maybe she could design a corset tea cozy or something like that. It would be fun to try.

  Just as she was losing herself thinking about the design, the door chime rang. She set down her tea glass on a paper napkin and came out from behind the partition.

  “Did I miss it?” Carly rushed in, arms laden with a box of cupcakes.

  “Yes. Again.” Mercy laughed and took the box from her hands. Setting it on the counter, she opened the lid and gasped. Each little cupcake had naughty little candy embellishments.

  “You’ve outdone yourself.” Mercy grinned and picked up a vanilla frosted one with a tiny licorice flogger on top. The strands were thin and black, sprouting from a handle of red braided candy. “You know the way to a woman’s heart. Bondage and cake. I think I may love you.” She took a bite of the cupcake and groaned at the sugary sweetness.

  “Do you mean it?” Carly asked, her voice suspiciously calm.

  “What?” Mercy swallowed the last of the white cake and was about to put her frosting laden finger in her mouth when Carly grabbed her hand.

  “I said, did you mean it?”

  “Mean what?” Mercy stared at her, knowing exactly what Carly was asking, but afraid to answer.

  “Okay, so we are going to be difficult about this I see.” Carly took Mercy’s frosting covered finger and placed it in her mouth. Her tongue swirled around it, licking the sweet frosting off, her accusing gaze never wavering from Mercy’s widened eyes.

  Mercy pulled her finger free with a pop, staring at Carly—speechless.

  Carly placed her lips on Mercy’s for a fluttering kiss and moved towards the door. “There. Was that so hard?” Carly flipped the sign to closed. “Mmm. Butter cream. My favorite. Probably shouldn’t have made those with vanilla frosting though. Doesn’t really fit the kinky theme, does it?”

  “What are you doing?” Mercy started. A warm flutter of desire started in her belly and moved steadily downward. “It’s not even six thirty yet.”

  “I know perfectly well what time it is. You really want someone to come barging in here?”

  Carly clicked the lock and yanked the large curtains at the store front window closed. “There. Now, where was I?”

  Mercy backed away. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve been waiting around for you to ask me out for two years, Mercy Devereux. Since you won’t take the lead, I will. I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing my butt when you think I’m not looking. Every day you stare out of the window at the end of the day, afraid to come over and talk to me.” Carly snorted. “I’m tired of waiting for what I want and I want you.”

  Mercy stared at her, eyes wide and mouth gaping. “I...”

  “Uh huh. That’s what I’m talking about. Tell me you didn’t like it when I kissed you and I’ll walk out that door and never come back.”

  Mercy stared, not knowing what to say. Could it be true?

  Carly put her hands on her hips and stared her down. “I think you like to play at being a kinky little tease, but when a girl gets down to business, you run for the hills.”

  “Is this running?” Mercy wrapped her arms around Carly and drew her in for a deep kiss. Her tongue pushed between Carly’s lips, prepared for an all out invasion.

  Carly groaned into her mouth and ran her hands down Mercy’s back, rubbing tiny circles on her ass.

  “God, I would love to spank the shit out of you for making me wait.”

  “What?” Mercy laughed, pulling away slightly.

  “Yes. I think I’m going to. You don’t know how crazy you’ve been making me with your tight jeans and your skin-tight little t-shirts. God, woman! Do you think I’m made of stone?” Carly moved in her direction with purpose.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” Mercy squealed, running behind the classroom table.

  “Oh, you’re going to beg me for it before I’m done.” Carly smiled, tossing her hair belligerently. She stopped and began to unbutton her shirt.

  “Oh my god,” Mercy rasped, staring at the cleavage that was being revealed. The flutter inside her turned into a heat wave and she had to hold onto the table to keep from falling over.

  Carly threw her shirt at Mercy and she caught it, mid flight. “Good catch.” She smirked.

  “Thanks.” Mercy said dryly.

  “You’re welcome.” Carly kicked off her shoes and tugged at the zipper of her jeans. Slowly she lowered the zipper, keeping her eyes locked with Mercy’s. A hint of panties showed through the opening. Carly slid the jeans over the ripe swell of her ass and soon she was clad only in her lace bra and a slight pair of pink panties.

  “Your turn.” Carly put her hands on her hips and waited.

  Mercy felt her pussy begin to throb with a need she hadn’t felt since the last time she had a good three hour session with her favorite smut novel. Her hands traveled to the zipper of her jeans and she froze. Fear of rejection spiked through her and she backed away. “Why in the world would you want me?” Mercy croaked out. “I’m not some sexy young thing with a size two ass.” Mercy shook her head, staring into Carly’s eyes.

  Carly silently approached her and gently reached for the zipper. “Hush,” she whispered, pressing her lips against Mercy’s. “Kick off your shoes. Now.”

  The zipper gave way and Carly slid the jeans over the generous curve of Mercy’s backside and down her legs.

  “Arms up.” Carly pulled the shirt over Mercy’s head and tossed it onto the table.

  Mercy stood, shivering under Carly’s scrutiny, but despite her fears, she felt her core grow molten at the fiery heat in Carly’s gaze.

  “Unclasp your bra.”

  Mercy did as she was told, reaching behind her back to unhook it, letting it fall to the floor. Her flesh prickled at the intensity of Carly’s gaze and the chill in the room.

  “Good. Now your panties.”

  The nude lace covered her, but the thatch of her mound was visible through the thin fabric. With shaking fingers, Mercy slid them over her ass and down the white expanse of her thighs. Stepping out of them, she took a ragged breath. She was naked.

  “I want you to brace yourself against the worktable. If you don’t, I’ll use one of these handy crochet cuffs of yours to bind you to the chair. Is that understood?” Carly asked.

  “Yes,” Mercy whispered. Her desire for Carly was so strong she would do anything.

  “Yes who?” Carly demanded, smacking her ass with her hand.

  Mercy sputtered, thinking of the mountain of erotica novels she had read and said the first thing that popped out of her mouth. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “That’s what I want to hear. Four spanks for you. Two for making me wait and two more for thinking less of yourself. Every time I connect, you will thank me. Understood?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Good. Now bend over before I take a knitting needle after your ass and cane you with it for making me wait even longer.”

  Mercy swallowed deep and braced herself on the work table.

  Carly stood behind her and her open palm hit the soft flesh of Mercy’s right buttock.

  Smack!

  “Thank you, Mistress.
I’m sorry I made you wait.”

  “Excellent. Another.”

  Smack!

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  Smack!

  “Thank you.” Mercy let out a sob and struggled to remain still.

  Smack! Smack!

  “Thank you, Mistress.” Mercy choked as her flesh burned.

  Carly ran her hand over Mercy’s flesh. “I want you to think twice before you ever doubt your worth to me again. I think my hand hurts just as much as your backside does. What do you think we should do about that?”

  “I don’t know, Mistress.” Mercy’s pussy was in overdrive. The scent of Carly standing so close to her combined with the stinging of her ass made her moan.

  Carly stood behind her and gripped her hips with her hands, grinding her mound into the tender flesh of her ass cheeks. Reaching around, she ran her hands over the sensitive orbs of her breasts, making her rosy peaks tighten into hardened pebbles.

  “Open for me.” Carly reached between Mercy’s legs and edged her finger along her moist folds. She tightened her hold on her, thrusting two fingers deep into her channel.

  “Oh.” Mercy cried out as Carly began to thrust her fingers in earnest, fucking her faster and faster. She continued to move her fingers in and out of her sopping pussy and with every withdrawal, brushed her thumb across Mercy’s erect clit.

  “Oh god! Fill me up! Fuck me harder!” Mercy screamed, arching her back and moaning into the table.

  “Come for me, baby.” Carly added a third finger and filled Mercy completely, giving her extra stimulation on her clitoris as she pulled out.

  Waves of sensation flooded Mercy as a tormented groan erupted from her lips. The last thrust into her pussy left her jerking within Carly’s embrace as the exploding downpour of fiery sensations wracked her body.

  Slumping against the table, Mercy slid onto her knees and onto the floor. Gasping for air, she stared at Carly, an expression of awe on her face.