I have been playing about with Adult Fiction in the last few weeks. This will, in time, become the first of a series of erotic short stories. I like writing stuff like this and, I am told, am quite good at it. However, if you want to know why your place of work blocks this site? Here’s the reason.
This is a NSFW Story. I warned you.
Now, I’ll do it again. There was plenty of time to walk away.
WARNING: NSFW means what it says: this story deals is sexual with adult themes and should, as a result, be approached responsibly.
The Love Seat
They had known each other for just under a decade, yet this was the first time that Daniel had asked Jaimi back to his new home.
She grasped full well why this had happened, just simpler if they ended up at her place or Tim’s vast family home. The split level Docklands flat had been bought for conquests, then short-term relationships, but it was never for friends. That’s not how Daniel worked, since the horrendously acrimonious divorce six years previously. Married at 21, the man had been devoted for a decade before being cuckolded, then just went the other way. The last four years had seen him sleep with pretty much everyone Jaimi knew from the magazine, but never had he once tried it on with her. In many ways that was a blessing, because knowing Dan as she did, Jaimi was pretty certain it would only end in tears.
The three of them had been friends since secondary school: this picture on the large, darkwood dresser is one she’d forgotten was taken, but there they are: Timothy Christopher Abbot, Jaimi Green and Daniel Nathan Crosswell, standing together in the school blazers of St Clemens Sixth Form College. The frame’s a light beech, soft under fingers that have begun to numb, last Tequila Slammer already regretted after a deadline that had pushed everyone to the limit. The pressure and release of publication was something she was beginning to resent, that maybe working in coffee table publishing wasn’t the way the rest of her life should be spent. These other pictures are eclectic, unusual: Daniel’s daughter Tess as a Dalek, beautiful woman she knows is his mother and another unrecognised, faded black and white from somewhere in her friend’s unspoken, indistinct past.
‘That’s great aunt Jane. She worked for the Resistance in France in the 1940’s. Great uncle Mark used to tell me stories about her.’
‘I bet she was an amazing spy. If anything like you, she’d have men eating out of her hand.’
‘Her real power was discretion. I’ve never grasped the skill of keeping my mouth shut.’
There’s something odd about Crosswell tonight, pronounced since they left the Mexican restaurant and fell into their favourite bar. His normal bravado has slipped, almost cautious around her, with none of the normal demonstrative extroversion that made this tall, slim man seemingly irresistible to anyone who passed his orbit. Come to think of it, they’d spent a lot of time with each other of late, since the last girlfriend left. That pneumatic blonde had complained he wouldn’t commit, too dedicated to work and friends. Jaimi didn’t see a problem; these women didn’t understand that some men needed more space than others to function correctly.
She turns from the dresser, taking in a large, open-plan living space, before staring with disbelief at the large piece of furniture placed by the spiral staircase that leads up to the bedroom. It sits by the floor to ceiling window, ideal place to watch the world below, yet obscured from prying eyes with clever use of exterior foliage. Jaimi thinks at first it might be a solo recliner, but the width is all wrong, curves far too smooth and intentional for something that might be pretending to be artistic. Then her brain makes the connection, back a year to the special insert they produced on innovative British designers, and the penny drops.
‘This is Chase Barker’s Love Seat, isn’t it?’
Dan blushes, surprising for a man for whom pretty much anything went, given half a chance.
‘I knew you’d remember. It isn’t the original, but one of the second edition pieces he’s made. When they went into commercial production I knew I needed one.’
The item had caused major ripples when they’d featured it, that ‘Spaces’ architecture and furniture magazine was not the place to pedal items for sexual pleasure, but Dan had stuck to his guns and she’d felt compelled to back such passion. The whole was beautifully produced and manufactured: so what if its soul purpose was allow you to fuck someone in all manner of interesting ways? The thought of this piece of wood and high quality upholstery in an almost shameful deep purple, allowing her to be penetrated whilst perfectly supported in any number of positions, made Jaimi shiver. Amazed that Dan is staring wide eyed as she walks to it, a big deal is made of letting hand skim the top of the fabric, enjoying the feeling attention gives.
‘I have to ask: what’s it like to use?’
‘I have no idea. I’ve not christened it yet.’
Their tension is now unmistakeable; Dan can’t look at her directly, and Jaimi wonders at the merit of allowing alcohol to dictate her actions. Normally when drunk she’d sleep on Tim’s sofa and drive back out of town the next day, but with both his kids suffering from chickenpox, they’d decided not to add to the stress. Jaimi’s flatmate had her boyfriend over from Dublin, and so it seemed only fair to push Dan for a place to stay, considering how close he lived to the bar they’d ended up in. Except now, all she could think about was being naked, splayed face down on the soft, warm purple upholstery, being slowly fucked from behind. You’ll destroy the best male friendship you’ve ever had, it’s not worth the pleasure reminds an increasingly uncertain conscience, instead allowing the chair to act as support and nothing else.
Sinking into the soft yet firm padding, her body begins to shudder, amazed that common sense is ignoring everything except increasing arousal. Maybe, in the morning, if she still felt the frisson, there might be some consideration of consequence, but for now relaxation mattered more, right up until the moment when Dan’s eyes finally met hers. His need is almost painfully apparent, and a flick of gaze to the front of his jeans confirms she’s not imagining the tension. One of the reasons why this man was never short of a partner was the fact he provided both depth and girth, a fact that Tim had been jealous of since their teens. Jaimi laughs, nervous giggle of wonder, that she needs to be filled confidently by him without remorse.
‘Will you let me sleep here tonight?’
‘Is that where you want to stay, J?’
‘Absolutely, in fact I don’t think I want to move ever again. This thing is more comfortable than the original, it’s almost unreal.’
Only now does Dan break her gaze, and she’s aching at the loss. He almost runs away to make coffee and there’s no conversation at all, which is never the way this works. It’s been at least three months since the senior designer turned up at work with anyone, now Jaimi comes to think about it, and she has to ask what’s going on.
‘So, who’s going to be the lucky woman who breaks this thing in?’
‘I was hoping that might be you.’
‘Excuse me?’
Two cups of his favourite dark roast are on the low wooden table by the window and Dan comes to squat beside the chair, none of the confidence that would normally be expected this close. In fact, much of the recent behaviour suddenly makes sense seeing him almost kneeling, supplicant to her languor. No recent conquests, lack of sexual innuendo… and hands, which would have reassured by now but instead are placed behind his back.
‘I’ve been thinking a lot about what I am. I miss being in a stable relationship. Looking at Tim’s kids, knowing I might want try and do the family thing again… and then I don’t know what matters. Until you walk in a room, and everything just stops dead.’
She had never considered herself a looker or terribly smart, letting art become both signature and personality, and that’s how Jaimi lived her life. Hair colour changed almost weekly, makeup undoubtedly an afterthought, living in jeans and a small pile of t-shirts since forever. Dan never told her anything but the absolute truth: hearing him almost whisper the admission in growing twilight makes her entire body shudder. It would end in tears because she’d wanted sex with him since the graphic art job was landed, and always thought the last thing he ever thought about was her body, so it had never really mattered.
‘You’re not fucking with me, are you Dan?’
‘That’s all I’ve wanted to do for the best part of a year, I just never knew how to broach it.’
Her laugh is sultry, possibilities blossoming below the waist. He’d needed alcohol to lose inhibition; the chair had been enough for her. Watching him straddle the width of the frame and her hips with a care that is as erotic as it is warming, Jaimi gives into the moment.
‘I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want to do -‘
Sitting upright, pulling body to her before mind can be changed, uncertainty is kissed away. The sudden swell of need within consumes both rationality and common sense, lost to this first contact and better than she could ever have hoped for. His mouth’s warmth is glorious, tequila-flavoured and cigarette tainted and then they’re both horizontal, his weight a welcome restriction and liberation combined. Jaimi’s body simply melts, passion leeching into nimble hands as he’s stripping her, removing clothing with a speed that’s impressive, considering the amount that’s been drunk.
‘You’re absolutely sure you’re okay with this J?’
‘All I want now is to know how it feels to orgasm on this chair. You’d better be as good as I suspect you are. Fill me and then fuck me, please.‘
Expecting clothing to be shed Dan doesn’t, instead turning chair away from the window, before Jaimi feels herself begin to rise. In less than twenty seconds horizontal becomes a forty five degree angle, yet she remains on her back. This chair’s a step up from the original: that one didn’t have motors, or this non-slip material, preventing a dangerously aroused body from heading for the floor. Presented at Dan’s eye level, completely naked, she is surprisingly without embarrassment or inhibition.
‘I want to make sure you’ve come before I do. I have no idea how long I’ll last, and this has to matter.’
His honesty had often been a shortcoming, but Jaimi’s grateful, as he kisses first one breast and then the other, before sucking on both nipples in turn. That’s all that happens for what seems like forever, repetition making crotch begin to sing, waves of pleasure she has no problem in losing herself within. The moans, which would normally be restrained during the first time with a guy, are allowed to issue unbridled: one hand slips to left hip, the other vanishes, before there is the unmistakable sense of vibration where her behind is cushioned. The lower half of her body is being stimulated, arse cheeks gently massaged: now she’s close to an orgasm without even contact with her sex.
Feeling chest begin to heat, shudders down a tense back, Dan’s tongue’s at her clit, flicking with a skill that means an explosion’s inevitable: sweet bliss spreading through her entire body which is extended, accentuated by the vibrations beneath. Jaimi screams into the now dark room, unbridled pleasure emphasised by alcohol plus long-suppressed desire. She knows that’s not it, however, that inside her body is a bigger prize waiting to be claimed if he’ll only undress faster, and the chair shifts down, returning to a near horizontal position. His mouth is at her ear, words fuelled with a need understood only too well.
‘You want to turn over J?’
‘Oh fuck, you know I do.’
‘That was the reason I bought this. When you lay down on the original and stuck your arse in the air to piss off Alice Taylor? I knew then I ‘d want to fuck you that way first.’
She recalls the look of horror from the Finance Director, offset by Tim’s cheeky wink as she had climbed off that Love Seat. This chair is still vibrating as she scrambles, turning front to back, and settling into place clit’s suddenly re-stimulated, this time by the furniture itself. She can hear the last clothing shed, rip of condom packet, gorgeous hands on her hips, pressure against cunt that is as joyous as she’d anticipated until the shove inside, one thrust to fill completely. Then he stops and she knows why, because this might all be over instantly and that would be a shame.
‘I can feel the chair. Through you. Fuck me that’s good.‘
The grip is exquisite, firmness in hands she’s always found attractive, powerful until there’s a stroke, confidence built, thrust at a time. With no desperation to complete, instead desire drives, to enjoy the vibration that joins them, slow arousal of her internal muscles that becomes hypnotic, addictive. Mostly sex and alcohol meant dangerous and needy, but Jaimi’s happy at the slow, steady pace Dan keeps, the way whole body begins to heat again under repetitive friction. Sobriety is mixing with the edge of lost inhibition and somehow this makes his movements harder, stronger as the chair and her become indivisible. He’s lasted far longer than expected and now there’s a moan, and another, breathless as she pushes up and back to meet him, and the internal spasm happens without warning, sudden and joyous. As she comes his rhythm falters and then it’s a shudder, and again, gasp of a man who’s earned his reward for patience and honesty.
Jaimi’s mind slowly returns to the moment, chair still quietly buzzing until a hand moves to silence the motor, before pulling out and away. The blissful post coital hum is stronger than she can ever remember, listening as he pads across hardwood floor to dispose of the condom, then pick up the coffee mugs, before breaking the silence.
‘That’s the best six grand I ever spent. Your coffee’s still warm: I have straws somewhere from the last time Tess was here, if you like you can stay put and I’ll feed you.’
Now there’s a laugh, from deep inside, before she moves to face her new lover. Naked he looks even better than imagined, and with no work until Monday there would be plenty of time to explore him at leisure, but for now the coffee is taken from a willing hand and drunk in one hit, before returning the cup with a grin. Now her thought isn’t just need, but something deeper, and the decision to listen to reason remarkably ends up as being wrong.
‘Why did it take you so long to suggest this, Dan?’
‘Maybe I was just scared, perhaps I was just waiting for the right piece of furniture. You were the only person who supported me in getting the original into the magazine, who didn’t get offended when it was apparent what you used it for. I suppose that was when I grasped you and I were more alike than I’d ever realised. I may not be the fastest when it comes to understanding what I want, but I got here eventually.’
Jaimi rises, amazed at her own need to fuck again so soon, coming to stand beside him as everything else suddenly is of secondary importance. This was the best way she could possibly have hoped to have started her weekend. As their mouths fuse, there is no regret in any of her actions.
Normally she’d want to spend two days in bed after a deadline, but this chair gave her other ideas.
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