From the Writers and Editors at Sssh.com, comes a spicy new anthology just for you. "Porn for Women: Erotica for Bedtime" brings together fifteen of the spiciest stories ever released in an erotic anthology. When ever you are in the mood for a "quickie," you'll find something to your tastes here. From Plain Jane Exotic Dancer, Babysitting for Yummies, to Camelot's Bequest, to Bondage Desire and the Online Date, "Porn for Women: Erotica for Bedtime" won't disappoint.
Samples from each of the 15 erotic stories:
An English Flapper
Meredith looked at the mansion with a thrill of excitement. She couldn�t believe she was here, in America. Let alone at this party, which was going to be attended by some of the most interesting people in New York.
�Don�t stare like that,� her mother said with a sneer. �And straighten your back. Show the Americans that the British, at least, have some style.�
�Yes, Mother,� Meredith said and lowered her eyes. �I will, Mother.�
Lady Sylvia McCardill nodded and turned her attention back to the house. �Good. Now let us get this over with quickly. I don�t want to stay any longer than I have to.�
�Certainly.� Meredith looked in awe at the lights in the garden as they drove past. �We will leave as soon as we can.�
�It is unfortunate we had to come in the first place, but that dreadful man insisted on it.�
�Mr. Gardner only wants to show us a good time during our stay here, Mother,� Meredith said.
Her mother gave a very un-ladylike snort. �He could have taken us on some more appropriate pastime, if you ask me.�
Meredith nodded, knowing her mother wouldn�t change her mind. She was happy Mr. Gardner had insisted on them coming here. That meant a break from the dreadfully boring tea receptions her mother was so fond of. Besides, she had heard that her favorite actor might be here.
Plain Jane, Exotic Dancer
If only the stage persona was one Jane could carry with her day and night, a person she could be in everyday life. But it was limited, only for use when she was down to her skivvies, shaking her ass for a bunch of horny men and, on occasion, a few women.
She could only pull Petra out for five hours a night, three nights a week, and while she strove to maintain the confidence her alter ego exuded in other pursuits, she couldn�t seem to manifest it as Plain Jane Dennis.
She stared at the face in the mirror, the layers of makeup that brought out the blue of her eyes and made her lips look fuller and more seductive. The fake lashes itched, and the auburn hair she liked to pull back in a ponytail drove her insane, with sweaty strands hanging in her face, no matter how many times she tucked the mass behind her ears.
She needed the break right now, after being on stage for almost an hour and being called out for four lap dances. It had been a busy night, and she was ready to go home, but the club didn�t close for another hour, and she could still make a few bucks if she could get another lap dance or two.
Now, though, she donned a silky robe and stepped outside for a smoke. She didn�t bother tying the thing � she�d be amongst potential clients, and a view of her tanned skin and small perky breasts might entice a couple of them to tip her, even without her working so hard. Besides, she was burning up and wanted the cool night breeze to help her out.
As she sparked the cig, she inhaled deeply, enjoying the feeling of smoke in her lungs. It wasn�t healthy, but it felt good right now. She looked around and found there weren�t many people out right now. Of course, there were a couple of favorites on the main stage, so it made sense.
The sound of her real name made her blood run cold, and she froze, not sure she wanted to look behind her. She�d chosen a club far from her hometown, in hopes she wouldn�t run into anyone she knew. And worst, the voice sounded familiar.
Darling and Mistress
Darling finishes a long day of work. She has worked hard to become fantastic in her field of psychology; and some of her patients were easier to deal with than others. Overall, she loves her job. She had always been a helper, she knows deep down in her soul it is her job to support and give to others.
That was how she had met her Mistress and lives the way she does now. She had always been a good girl growing up. She was a straight A student, was almost never grounded; a pure bookworm and mostly kept to herself. She met Mistress when she was interning in college. She had been so upset that she was in a silly assistant position that involved getting coffee and lunches; she didn�t mind it so much, but it had nothing to do with her degree.
She was delivering coffees when she ran into Mistress, who, at the time, went by Misty. Darling had dated a few men before, and while she loved sex it had never been an important part of her life. Never before had she found herself attracted to a woman.
Misty was gorgeous. She was a tall, curvaceous woman with black hair and a sweet face. Darling, her name was Sarah at the time, remembered being stunned by the stranger�s beauty. She dropped the coffee she carried, and quickly ran from the building. What was wrong with her? Was she a lesbian?
A Lady Not In Waiting
Lady Catherine Silverton looked out over the hall, searching for some nobleman she could try to seduce. Her eyes wandered over the dancing men and women, whose colorful clothes swirled around their legs. At the other end of the hall, Elizabeth I sat overseeing the scene with a slight frown on her painted forehead.
�The queen is troubled,� Catherine said to the woman beside her.
�She is only thinking about politics,� Lady Camden said with a smile. �You�ll learn to see when she needs you soon enough.�
Catherine nodded. �I only want to serve her the best way I can.�
�Today, you can relax. The queen already favors you. Let someone else tend to her needs for once.�
Catherine smiled and let her eyes wander to a handsome, dark-haired man standing in a far-away corner.
�I haven�t seen him before,� she said.
�You have only been here a week. How can you expect to know every face at the queen�s court?�
�Who is he?�
�Richard Crowden,� Lady Camden said. �One of Seymour�s trusted men. Rumor has it he will soon work his way to the top.�
Catherine wrinkled her nose. Being a part of the queen�s court meant she could talk to important men in the hopes of an advantageous marriage. She wasn�t going to waste her time on a man without land or title.
Lydia lay in her bed, silent, unmoving, holding her breath as the shadows closed in around her. This time she had prepared for the intrusion, and she would discover who watched her.
The clock ticked, the only sound in her bedroom, counting down the seconds, the minutes, the hours. He appeared every night, around two o�clock, and soon that witching hour would arrive. Her anxiety skyrocketed as she observed the hand move around in a circle, and she strained her ears, wanting to hear that mild breathing which had become familiar to her, even lulling her to sleep at times.
There would be no such lullaby tonight.
She thought she heard a clink at the window, and Lydia froze, the hair on the back of her neck standing up and sending an electrical tingle down her spine. But no sound followed, and she was ready to scream her frustration.
Several more minutes passed, and the sound repeated, this time with the soft hiss of a sigh. Attuning herself to the rhythm of the breathing pattern, so faint she almost decided she�d imagined it, she smiled to herself. Her visitor had arrived.
With painfully slow movement, she curled her fingers around the string and began pulling, her eyes closed and all her energy focused on audio reception. When she felt tension, she counted to threes silently and gave a sharp, microscopic tug. The other end, tied to the lamp switch, flicked the light on so instantly and unexpectedly that her visitor was caught as if rooted to his spot, crouching in her window.
Gwyneth stood on the balcony, waving goodbye to her husband. It would be a week before the Lord returned. She didn�t know why he was leaving, the most he would tell her was that it was for important business. Nothing for a woman to fret about, especially one of her stature.
For years, she had been Lady Terras. She had been betrothed to Lord Terras when she was a young girl. She was happy with the arrangement. After all, wasn�t it every young girl�s dream to be married to a Lord and bear his children? At least she always thought so.
Her eldest daughter had finally come of age at fourteen. Soon, Elizabeth, would be married off and the Manor in which they lived would seem all the more empty, desolate and lonely. Her son, Timothy had just reached the ripe age of fifteen and would be riding out to battle with his father. Luckily, the rest of Gwyneth�s children were still young and would remain with her for several more years. However, she only got to see them once or twice a day.
Even after they were born, they were whisked away to be raised by Midwives and the Maesters of the Manor. This was how things were done. Perhaps they had always been done, even in ancient times. She knew she shouldn�t complain, but she often found herself bored with the way things were.
Babysitting for Yummies
Lena peered over her shoulder yet again, trying to see if the creeper that had stalked her down aisles four and five dared to follow her onto six. There was a reason she didn�t spend a lot of time in this part of town, but she�d needed to run to the store and had been stuck babysitting her cousin�s kids while Marla went out and partied for her birthday. Considering the rug rats were supposed to be in bed in another fifteen minutes, Lena didn�t have time to run to her side of town for a quick errand.
The two boys were exhausted anyway, passing out in the shopping cart as she grabbed the last couple things from the shelf, glancing back down the aisle as she rounded the corner and finding no one in sight.
�Whoa!� her cart came to a screeching halt, and she gasped as she turned to find she�d practically crashed into someone. She blushed, embarrassed at not having paid attention, but his smile melted her, playful and kind. �Everything all right, miss?�
Lena nodded, trying not to salivate over the low rasp of his voice and the hard, toned muscles of his arms as his biceps flexed with his grip on the other end of the cart. �We�re fine, thank you. I�m so sorry, I wasn�t looking where I was going and��
Bondage, Desire and the Online Date
I slammed open the hotel room and threw my bags on the bed. I was already much later than I had anticipated. This was the first time in years that I had been away from my apartment. Sir was excited about my chance to get away and for the first time we would get to be together.
I was a writer for the local newspaper. Nothing special, but I kept up with the local news and information. While I stood in the background, simply dictating the news to the community�s readers, I held some form of control over them. Perhaps it was not that odd that I had become a submissive to Sir.
I had just moved into my apartment with my roommate. She and I got along wonderfully, and I was very happy with the arrangement. However, I had held a secret within myself for years. I knew in high school that I had been born to serve others. Sure, I was a dictator of my own life, and an accomplished writer, but I had a drive that I had told no one about. I was a sexual submissive, and I need someone to dominate me.
�Ah, that was awesome, babe,� exclaimed my boyfriend, Hank. His sweaty and hairy body rolled off of me and flopped to his side where he proceeded to fall asleep, just like he does every time we have sex.
I cringed and pulled the blankets over my body, keeping them tight around my neck. I always felt so used and unsatisfied whenever we made love. It was to the point where I didn�t even call it that anymore. Everything about Hank pretty much repulsed me. His cigarette breath, chapped lips, hairy chest and smelly feet made me want to gag every time he came near me. The funny thing was that Hank had always been like that, I just never paid attention before.
I had decided that I just couldn�t stay in the same bed with him with thoughts like that. So I quietly stepped out of the covers, grabbed my pink robe and headed downstairs. It was only ten o�clock so I turned on the television and curled up to watch some TV. I was flicking through the channels when I heard my cell phone ring on the kitchen counter. I ran and answered it.
�Maria?� It was my best friend and neighbour. �Are you home?�
�Yeah, why? Elise, is every thing alright?�
�Yes, my date was a flop so I wanted some girl time before I went home to mope.� I heard her laugh on the other end so it must not have been that bad.
�Everyday is girl time for you,� I replied jokingly. Elise was gay and darn proud of it.
�That�s beside the point,� she said and sighed. �Fine, then I need some Maria time. Sound better?�
Roseanne stood on her toes to better see the king and his colorful retinue as they approached the small village of Ashton. Flags flew in the breeze, dust formed a cloud covering much of the country road. A trumpet was playing to herald their arrival.
�They�ll be staying here for a full week,� Roseanne�s friend Sarah said. �All those knights here for a full week! And if you can win the attention of one, he might make you his bride. Imagine that!�
Roseanne smiled. �I will win the attention of one, provided he is good looking. If not, why should I bother? I would rather have a kind heart and a handsome face than a chest full of riches.�
The king was old and looked too heavy even for his sturdy horse. The noblemen around him were much the same, with flushed cheeks and dirty mustaches. Roseanne frowned at them in disgust. It was as she suspected; the stories about knights were greatly exaggerated.
In my small community college I�m considered the popular girl, the one with the thick blond hair, jade green eyes and perfect skin. I know that I am the envy of many students, male and female alike. I was a god amongst mortals there.
But, that doesn�t mean I like it. To be stereotyped as a certain person just because of your looks is awful. I have always felt the need to put on a show and take on the role that everyone assumed I was to be. But, with that came low grades. And if I were to ever get out of here and live in a place where I didn�t have to be that person, then I had to get my marks up. I managed on my own in every area except math. I really did fall under the typical blonde stereotype when it came to math. I just plain sucked.
So, I took it upon myself to find a tutor. I searched around until I found one right in my own school. I didn�t know her name but I always saw her around. It was hard NOT to see her. She was kind of unusual, resembling a flower child, like a girl stuck in the sixties.
He sat staring at her from across the room. She just doesn�t see it he thought to himself as he shook his head. There was something about the way she sat all alone in the corner watching everyone around her, eating, drinking, and talking with their friends.
Do women like that still exist?
It was as if she had no idea how beautiful she truly was. Every man in the room had to be blind, they obviously could not see beyond her thick rimmed glasses or the frumpy yellow dress that she wore, if they even looked at her at all. He wasn�t like the other men there�he saw her when she thought she couldn�t be seen. He saw the curl of her soft lips as they reacted to a song she liked, the gentle way she ran her fingers through her auburn curls, and the look of satisfaction on her face with every sip of wine she took.
I�d want to see that look every day.
Donald decided to walk over to her. If I don�t try, I�ll regret it forever he thought. He couldn�t help but smile as he scooped up his drink and walked across the room toward the object of his desire. The thin beige shirt he wore complemented his dark skin and his long and neat dreads fell loosely down his back. The polo shirt fit him perfectly and almost looked as though it were tailor made for him, accenting the lines of his muscles. He was a man who took pride in his appearance. A freshly groomed beard accentuated his chiseled jaw and his dark chocolate eyes didn�t miss a thing, especially her.
Taste of Hope
The barest hint of a sunbeam wobbling through leaded-glass windows was enough to rouse Hope from sleep long before Big Ben tolled 5am. She rose quickly, splashing cool water on her face from a wash basin before donning her uniform: a long, simple, black linen dress that was a sharp contrast to her pale pink skin, a stark white apron, shimmering black hair tied tightly back under a white cap. Her feet went into boots just before she quickly and quietly made her way through her employer�s house to the kitchen.
Once there, Hope lit a fire in the cast iron oven with every intention of starting a loaf of bread to bake, and began to heat the range to prepare eggs and porridge. She set water to heat for tea, and hurried back out of the kitchen. She knew her employer enjoyed, and required, being awoken in a very particular way, and she did not dare keep him waiting.
Carefully, she crept up the stairs to the bedchambers, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the morning just yet. She could hear echoes of the carriages, bustling people, and stray dogs beginning their days on the city streets outside, but brought her focus back to her job and her purpose. Arriving at her master�s bedchamber, Hope peeked in the door to see him sleeping peacefully. She pushed the door open and crossed the room to kneel at his bedside. His face upon the pillow was relaxed and boyish. It seemed the creases around his eyes and mouth that seemed so deep during the days melted into his pillow as he slept. She caressed his face with soft fingers, feeling his cheek that needed a shave today. He stirred beneath the blanket and his eyelids began to flutter as he transitioned from sleep to waking.
The Sleeping Beauty
Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a dragon named Aluthra. Her iridescent scales made her the most beautiful creature in the world. For centuries, the kingdoms of the world praised her for her magnificent beauty. She was granted many of the treasures of their lands, and she hoarded them upon the island in which she lived.
Her favorite gifts were mirrors and looking glasses, in which she would stare at herself for days upon end. She was known to capture painters, who were to create masterpieces of her likeness and bring them back to their kingdoms to be treasured. Aluthra was certainly the most beautiful creature of all time, but her cruel pride and greed made her hated among the people.
Eventually, a list of the most beautiful creatures was created. Aluthra held first place for centuries but many creatures came a close second, third, and fourth. Aria, the Fairy Princess, held second place for many centuries, until she died from a horrible accident. Unicorns, Pegasus, Elves, and Fairies often held the top one hundred spots on the list. Very few humans could hold spots even close to the dragon, Aluthra.
Adrienne watched the plumes of black smoke rise against the horizon. The green fields and dark forests that lay between the war and her were deserted, and she hoped they would stay that way.
Not quite deserted, she realized with a sting of fear in her chest. A dark speck moved over the cows� grazing pasture, in the direction of her house. A soldier.
She swallowed and hurried into the barn. Did this mean the war had finally come to her home?
Adrienne pursed her lips together and tightened her grip around a rake. If the soldiers wanted to take her cows, she would let them. But they wouldn�t take her home or her dignity without a fight. It was bad luck that her parents were away the entire week, but Adrienne knew how to defend herself if she had to.
She returned to the sunlight and watched the soldier come closer. He was alone, she realized with a sigh of relief. And he was wounded. After he had climbed the last fence surrounding the farm, he collapsed with a moan.
Biting her lip, Adrienne let the rake fall to her side. The safest thing would be to let him lie there until her parents came back. On the other hand, what kind of person would she be if she did?
She walked up to him with slow, measured steps. He was breathing, clutching a shallow wound in his shoulder. Blood had soaked half of his uniform, which was that of a private in the British Army.
�Sir?� she said in her halting English
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