What Cupid Saw - A Collection of Valentine's Day Erotica (Short Story Anthology)
A collection of four Valentine's Day themed erotic stories. Roughly 7,000 words. Cupid shows his voyeuristic side. Sam gets the chance to 'go in the back entrance' on February the 14th. A young couple have some fun with a length of red rope. What would you do if you only had one night to experience the opposite sex? These stories are not intended for readers under eighteen years of age More
Four sexy stories that all take place on the most romantic night of the year. Roughly 7,000 words.
What Cupid Saw - Cupid likes to get people together. And then he likes to watch them get it on.
Valentine? I'd Saint Him Myself - Sam finds a lonely older woman who'll let him do something he's always wanted to try.
A Valentine to remember - this young couple's first married Valentine's Day has batteries included.
For One Night Only - she only has one night in our world and she knows just how she wants to spend it - getting an orgasm.
Contains explicit sex, MF, voyeurism, anal sex, sex toys and bondage.
These stories are not intended for readers under eighteen years of age.
I like to watch. Which is fortunate, because my calling prevents me from doing anything else. I’m a facilitator. An auxiliary. I make things happen and then I watch the dominos topple in the wake of the one I pushed over.
Call me sentimental, but my favourite day to work is Valentine’s Day. I run myself ragged one day a year, trying to improve on my previous tally. And I nearly always manage it.
That couple over there in the booth, holding hands and kissing every few minutes when the pain of keeping their lips apart grows too intense? That was me. I stalled his car long enough for him to be there when she stuck out her thumb for a lift.
A few hours ago, they didn’t know each other. Now, his fingers trace the line of her jaw and he imagines what it will be like to slip her bra straps down and put his mouth against the sweet flesh of her neck.
They don’t stay to eat. They can’t finish their coffees fast enough. After throwing a few coins on the table, they leave for his apartment – or hers. It doesn’t matter as long as they can be alone together.
I’ve filled my quota for the day, so I follow them. No-one ever notices me. The young couple walk through the streets with his arm around her waist. Her hand in his jeans pocket. He guides her up some stairs to the front door of an old house that’s been converted into apartments.
After a while, I slip in after them. They leave a trail of heat behind that’s easy to pick up. The second door on the left still bears the marks of their passage. When I get inside, they’re wrapped around each other, standing in the middle of the room. With eyes closed, they kiss and peel off items of clothing like they’d choreographed it all earlier. They walk the line between haste and savouring each glimpse of the other’s body. Here’s an unexpected mole. There’s a line left by the waist of her tights.
Every stage of discovery is marked by a pause to make eye-contact. To remind themselves that they are with another person and not just a pliant body. Now her flesh is bare, he steps back to admire her and she dips her gaze, suddenly coy.