Warning: explicit sexual material. 18+ Adults only.
This is the sample short story I used within my Kickstarter crowdfunding campaign to print fingers & tongues, a book of my erotica.
This is the original, unedited version. The edited (book) version of Reaching for the Moon is available as a free download.
By Paola Kathuria
When Anne knocked briskly on my door and let herself in, kicking off her shoes before flopping onto the sofa in front of me, I had just finished reading the same page for the tenth time.
I was restless; I didn’t want to work. I could see that it was a glorious day out, the kind where the sky is a vivid blue, the kind that you know will end in a golden light and, even though I was slightly annoyed at Anne’s presumptuous interruption, I would admit to feeling relief at having an excuse to put down the papers beside me and to look at her, wondering what had happened to make her so fidgety.
She could hardly keep still in her seat. She was squirming and her eyes were bright as she grinned; her polite patience, while I finished with my work, pushed to its limits.
“How’s it going?” She was looking at my papers strewn on the floor when she asked; I could tell that she wasn’t interested at all in what I was doing.
I pretended not to notice her obvious excitement and instead sighed, looked out the window while I waved my hands over the papers beside me and said, “I’m trying to proof-read this document and I can’t seem to get past the first page.”
I was looking at her out of the corner of my eye and my reply seemed to take some energy out of her; she suddenly seemed listless and I immediately felt guilty for deflating her mood.
I turned to look at her. “You look as if you’re in a good mood,” I said. “What’s happened?”
She sprang back into life instantly, half out of the chair, straining forward. She laughed and then sat back, sitting on her hands.
“I’m bursting,” she said, “I need to tell someone this idea I have.”
“Oh?” An eyebrow arched, I was still calm amidst all her movement.
“Well, there’s this guy I write to, okay?”
I nodded, knowing that she would start speaking before I could open my mouth to reply.
“We’re friends but sometimes we tell each other about certain, um…” She paused. “…images we like.” She stopped suddenly and it was obvious that I was supposed to say something.
“Erm, like things that turn us on.” She looked up at me quickly.
I smiled. “Ah.” She seemed to relax a little. “And?”
“Um, well, he happened to mention how much he liked bums… uh… arses.”
When she looked up at me I was smiling calmly at her, but she was avoiding my gaze while she spoke.
“About the idea of a woman bent over, facing away from him, about how he would enjoy the sight and how he would want to reach out to pull aside her panties, stare at her ass and then lick her.”
I wasn’t smiling so calmly when she looked at me again. I changed position uneasily in my chair, tucking my feet under me, aware of a throbbing between my legs.
“So? What about it?” The sun had begun to set as I said this and I noticed that the room was filled with long shadows. Neither of us moved to switch on a light.
“I found that I couldn’t stop thinking about that idea.” Her voice sounded deeper now, more confident, as if she was aware of the change in me, of my sudden vulnerability.
“What were you thinking?” I asked, realising that she seemed transformed in the shifting light: taller, still and calm.
“I realised that I had a similar fantasy and that I wanted to share it with someone. I wanted someone else to enjoy it with me.”
I nodded. “Are you going to write it to your friend?”
“I might,” she paused, “but I want to tell it now, to you – I can’t wait – do you mind?” She was motionless in the chair. Even though it was getting quite dark in the room, I could tell that she was staring at me. I tried not to squirm, pressing my legs together, trying to stifle the throbbing.
“Sure. Go ahead,” I said, grinning.
“Are you sitting comfortably?”
We laughed. I heard her shifting in the chair, pulling her legs closer to her and I decided to rest my head on the back of the chair, hands clasped upon my chest.
“I’m ready,” I said. “Let’s hear it.”
Okay, so this fantasy starts with a woman. I always see her in cotton clothes: a loose cut-away plain top, which reveals her belly when she stretches up for things, and a long gathered skirt, in muted browns and crimsons.
She has long, slightly wavy, chestnut hair and a slim nose. Pale skin. She isn’t wearing anything under her top and just some thin white cotton pants under her skirt. Her legs and feet are bare.
She’s at home.
I used to start this off by imagining walking into a room and seeing her bent over, rummaging around for something on the floor – old photos perhaps – having found a dusty box and exploring spilled treasures on the floor.
She doesn’t hear her lover when he walks up behind her but he feels her momentarily tense and then relax when he puts a hand on her back, just above her arse. They remain like that for a few moments, him peering over her shoulder at the photos while she fingers through the mounds of photos on the carpet.
His attention is drawn to the warmth from her back and he becomes aware of the elastic of her pants. He wants to feel her arse to put his face to it and feel her soft skin against his nose and cheeks.
He passes his hand back and forth a little, over the same spot, feeling the elastic roll against his palm. He can imagine holding that elastic in his teeth, pulling it over her hips.
She carries on busily, her eyes closing slowly at the thought of his hands on her naked cheeks, of his thumbs dragging between the crack and of his hand between her legs. She shifts slightly, getting comfortable, and holds her breath when his hand leaves her back only to feel him gathering up her skirt with both hands and resting it on her back.
She closes her eyes, anticipating the first touch against her skin, wondering if it’ll be on her back, between her legs, cupping the cheeks or her thighs.
She feels him brush against her leg and then feels a hand on the inside of her knee, gently pushing her leg out. Her breathing quickens as she parts her legs for him and she feels her wetness gathering in her underwear, excited that he will see it, wondering if he already has, and then wondering if seeing it excited him.
She feels his hands on her hips. His eyes are on her arse but he wants to take his time. He doesn’t want to hurry and, even though his stiff cock is straining against his trousers, he doesn’t release himself, not yet.
His hands slide down lower until his fingers are at the elastic and he slips his fingers underneath as his hands continue to slide down over each side of her arse, pulling the white cloth down slowly. He releases the elastic when it’s at the top of her legs.
She opens her eyes at this point because she was concentrating on the shifting cloth, waiting for it to be eased off her hips, but instead now it’s loosened between her legs and the cloth lightly pulls and tickles on the hair of her bush, stimulating her.
Her pale round arse is exposed to his eyes and hands now. He puts a hand on each cheek, spreading his fingers, gripping as much as he can and then bends down to lick her between his hands, shifting them, turning his head and giving her arse long licks all over until she is glistening. Her cunt has started to ache and he wants to put his finger into the tight hole of her arse.
He moves to his knees and puts his mouth against her cunt briefly, before licking between her cheeks in one long hard lick.
He can’t wait anymore. His fingers go to the top of her arse. Pulling her cheeks open with his thumbs, he lowers his mouth to her again, to lick at the soft hairs in the warm dark place.
His thumbs move down and his mouth follows, his nose brushing her cheeks, making slow progress down, licking, sucking and slurping. She moans low in her throat. All she can think of is of his finger fucking her arse. When his thumbs move to reveal her puckered opening, he replaces one thumb with a finger so that he is holding her open with one hand.
He firmly drags a finger from the top of her arse down over the wrinkled skin to her cunt and then back up. He can feel and see her arse clenching in his hands as he presses his lips against her rosy hole, dragging his lips up and down and then flicking his tongue around. He kisses it wetly, his mouth leaving her flesh with a slurping noise.
He moves his hand from her leg to rest his fingers on her cheeks, the forefinger slipping between and pressing against her. He pushes gently and then notices that it is dry and so places his finger in his mouth, sucking it quickly, leaving it wet with saliva and then touches it to her arse again, easing it in, watching the warm ring open up and the tip of his finger disappear.
She pushes back on him, grunting; he withdraws the finger and places both hands on her cheeks, pulling them open, leaving her pink wet hole exposed, before pushing his face against her, flicking his tongue on her quickly, then kissing and sucking her.
He soon gets into a rhythm of flicking her arse with his tongue and wet kisses. She starts to shift against his dancing tongue on her arse and he leans back.
He wants to push two fingers into her arse now, but instead cups her pussy with his hand against the cloth and, rubbing it against her, he feels how wet she is when it is soon soaked through. He grips the cloth between her legs and pulls it down off her legs and then puts his hand on her pussy again. His hand becomes quickly wet and slippery as he strokes all his fingers between her legs, easing open her lips, his fingertips bumping into her clit.
He leaves her arse to look at her pussy. Putting his hands on the top of her thighs, he pushes her legs wider apart so that he can see all of her. His fingers reach out to pull open her pussy lips, rubbing them between his thumb and fingers, and then he drags a finger from her clit to her arse, spreading the wetness, retracing the route before leaning forwards to taste her juices on her arse.
As he pushes his tongue against the hole, he eases his thumb into her cunt and twists it slowly in her. He has to look at her pussy again; he wants to watch his thumb slide into her juicy cunt, to watch it as he pulls it out, seeing how her skin clings to him and then watch it disappear into her again as he pushes it back into her. He returns to her arse and his fingers tickle her clit as his tongue probes her arse while his thumb fucks her slowly, twisting in her as it is withdrawn.
Her legs start to tremble and his fingers slip in her wetness, missing her clit, moving around to find it again, to hold it between his fingers, pulling on it as his thumb comes out of her pussy and is plunged in again.
He wants to fuck her cunt with all his fingers. He wants to suck her clit, feeling it throb between his lips, while he has his fingers twisting in her wetness. He wants to be between her legs, his face wet from her, her thighs clenching his head, her cunt clenching his fingers.
He wants to be fucking her arse with his fingers when she comes, feeling the warm tightness spasm around them, and he wants to place the tip of his, oh, so hard cock on her arse and watch the head distort as he pushes it in slowly, seeing the glans disappear as her lucious arse opens up to accept him.
He wants to fuck her fast and hard, bringing her quickly to orgasm, racing her ahead, slamming his cock into her, slapping his thighs against her arse so that she gasps aloud with each hard deep thrust.
He wants to feel her tight cunt on his cock and he wants to be able to shift his hips so that he can thrust at her vagina at many points and he wants her to squeeze his cock with her muscles as he withdraws, pulling it to her.
He wants to reach under her at her swinging breasts to roll her nipples between his thumb and finger and he wants to pinch her nipples hard, so that he would hear her moan.
What does she want?
She wants to come.
She wants to feel his tongue flick over her clit but she wants to feel him fill her with his cock and hopes that it’s really hard, really really hard, so that he would glide into her quickly, grip her hips and fuck her urgently, noisily. She wants him to finger arse, to feel his tongue dance over her.
I can’t remember what they’re doing, but he is going to take his cock into his hand. A slippery fluid is already gathering at the tip and he moves next to her and rubs himself up and down her wet pussy. He pushes his cock against her clit on the down stroke and eases it into her cunt a little way on the up stroke. He slips into her easily – she is dripping wet – and he thrusts into her a few times quickly and then withdraws and drags himself over her clit again, flicking it quickly.
His cock is really sensitive now and he can’t do this for much longer. She’s been on the edge of coming for a long while and is really beginning to ache, needing release. He can’t decide whether to fuck her in the cunt or arse.
She is panting while he is thinking, his cock resting still against her clit. He holds her still with a hand on her back. He pushes his cock into her wet pussy again. He is very near coming. Her pussy tightens around his cock and he pushes deeper into her slowly, trying to control the approaching waves.
He fucks her slowly for a minute, watching his cock disappear into her, seeing her legs quiver, her puffy pussy, the glistening wetness of their mingled juices and saliva. He focuses on her arse and presses a finger against her, pushing it in up to the knuckle, twisting, feeling, pumping and then pulls it out and presses two wet fingers against her before pushing both in. He starts pumping his cock into her again, matching the pace with his pumping fingers, moving through tightness.
His hand presses down on her back firmer as she starts to move against him. She feels his cock go harder in her and he thrusts faster as he starts to come. She bears down on the dragging in her cunt, clenching her arse and pussy, closing her eyes, moaning, easing into her orgasm, riding with it as she rides his fingers and throbbing cock.
When he starts to tense, he withdraws his fingers from her arse and holds her by the hips, pulling her against his thighs, to drive his cock deeper, watching as he slides it out, slick with their juices and then slamming back into her hot cunt as he spurts into her, feeling her cunt spasm around his stiffness; they gasp and moan and fuck as their bodies tremble together, his cock spurting into her trembling cunt.
He slows down after a while, sweat dripping off him, releasing his grip on her hips, watching his sensitive cock sliding in and out of her slowly.
He pulls out, their juices dribble out of her and down their legs and they both collapse onto the floor into each other’s arms; his fingers brush hair out of her eyes that was clinging to her sweaty face.
The room was in darkness when she stopped speaking and, for a while, was filled only with the sound of our fast breathing.
My neck was aching from the awkward position it had been in for the last half hour and my body stiff from the strain of trying not to move while she was talking, not wanting to interrupt her. I heard a movement from where she was sitting.
“Chris?” she called out quietly from across the room.
“Just checking,” she said, “I wondered if you had fallen asleep.”
I laughed quietly. “No. I couldn’t have fallen asleep through that.”
We were silent for a moment.
“Did you like it?” I heard her say and then, against my ear, her breath spilling onto my neck, “Did it make you wet and hard?”
I couldn’t move. I felt something on my thigh realising, as it moved up, that it was her hand.
“Can I touch you?”
“Can I found out how wet I made you?”
I opened my mouth but no sound came out because suddenly her hand was between my legs; I heard a pleased sound from her at the same time that I remembered that I wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“Oooh, yes, I turned you on, didn’t I?”
I found the energy to push myself up and sit up, dropping my legs over the side, to rest my feet on the floor. Her hand hadn’t left my thigh.
I still hadn’t said anything; I didn’t want her to stop but I was also scared that she might continue. Her hands were cool when they parted my legs, exposing my damp hair to the night air.
“I was imagining you lying here while I was talking to you, imagining that your clit would go hard as the images I was creating went through your mind.”
Her hands moved higher up legs and began to stroke my inner thighs as I held my breath.
“I was thinking that, if I had made you wet, I wanted to taste you. Were you thinking about me? Did you imagine yourself in the story, sliding your fingers into me?” Her voice was almost hypnotic.
I was still unable to talk, thinking that anything I might say would only be drowned by the sound of my pounding heart. She stopped talking when her cool mouth made contact with the wetness between my legs.
I heard her on me, dragging her tongue slowly up the length of me, as her hands held my thighs open. I couldn’t help but moan while I arched my head back and slid off the sofa towards her waiting mouth and fingers.
A hand left my thigh, to be followed by the feel of soft fingers stroking my labia before they entered me slowly, feeling all around my wet cavern. Just as I was growing accustomed to these sensations, her mouth fastened onto my clitoris and another moan escaped my lips. She held it between her top lip and tongue, suckling it slowly, letting it pulsate in her mouth, as she fucked me slowly with her fingers.
I came noisily, my hands in her hair, pulling her into me, as my thighs clenched her head. She hung onto my clitoris, flicking it patiently, sliding her fingers back into me persistently, as I came again, my body shuddering, sweaty, released.
I looked down at her, meeting her eyes as she looked up at me from between my legs and smiled.
“What do you think?” Tom was looking at him intently.
Ben coughed, struggling to remain calm, glad of the folded newspaper on his lap. “It’s a good story. What do you intend doing with it?”
“I’m not sure. Try to publish it, I suppose.” He stood up to get another drink from the cabinet. “So you don’t think it’s a bit crass going for the male fantasy of two women together?”
“No,” Ben’s voice wavered and he coughed, pretending to clear his throat.
“No, it works well.”
Tom, apparently satisfied, looked back to the drink he was pouring. “Really, tell me, you think it’s okay? You think people will like it?”
“Yes,” Ben said, “I think people will like it.”
Ben shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Tom was looking at him, and Ben couldn’t turn away.
“Did it make you hard?”, Tom continued. He was at Ben’s side in a moment, lifting off the newspaper before Ben could protest. “I want to see you.”
Ben’s cock was straining in his trousers and he looked up to see Tom’s stiffness outlined before him.
“I was thinking about you while I was reading you that draft, wondering if it would make you hard.”
He dropped to his knees and looked up at Ben. “Can I touch you?”
Copyright Paola Kathuria 2014
This is the original, unedited version. The edited (book) version of Reaching for the Moon is available as a free download.