Four Erotic Tales by K. D. West Page A

for work — they’d both graduated the year before, and had the kinds of corporate jobs that measured their time at work by the minute. I lay there, taking in the morning sunlight glowing in Veronica’s hair, the warm roundness of her, the sticky heat of her bottom against my stomach. The sun hadn’t quite topped the sill of my window, but I already felt sunblind. The image of her that morning has stayed with me all of these years.
    I stayed there like that for perhaps a half an hour, and I don’t think I’d ever been a whole lot happier, or a whole lot more whole. Finally, as the daylight finally began to creep across the futon, I whispered into her ear, “Arise, fair sun.”
    Veronica began to stretch and grumble. With a start she sat up and looked around. “What time is it?”
    “Almost 8:00.”
    “Shit. I should head up to the job site soon,” she pouted.
    I gazed at her, her right cheek blotchy where it had rested on my arm as she slept, her breasts marked with the wrinkles of my sheets. Her fine hair, which had been up in the oh-so-elegant chignon the night before was tangled in a well-fucked rat’s-nest.
    She was gorgeous — a debauched vision.
    “I’ve dreamed of waking up like this with you ever since that party at your place.” I ran my thumb over her cheek. “Please. I’d like to make love with you one more time.”
    Her eyes got large and still. Then she gave a shy smile, leaned down, and kissed me. “Fuck ‘em,” she murmured into my lips. “They can start without me.”
    As our tongues intertwined, I felt my morning hard-on stiffen in earnest against her thigh. There was something I wanted to do before I took care of that, however.
    I kissed my way down Veronica’s neck, nibbling on first one pink eraser of a nipple, and then the other. When she began to give little gasps as I alternated between my lips and my teeth, I nibbled my way down to her bellybutton.
    Veronica lay back, playing with her breasts, letting her legs splay wide. I pulled at her matted pubes with my teeth, drawing a long hiss from my new lover.
    Once I had worked my way down between her legs, I took a moment to examine her newly awakening cunt. It was still closed, and the lips were marked with the dried remains of the previous night’s passion. Have to clean that up, I thought.
    I ran my tongue up the length of her labia, and she hissed again. Sitting back slightly, I blew softly on her and was treated to the beautiful sight of her cunt opening to me, pink and pretty as a rose. Marked with dew, too — I’d begun to elicit the signs of new excitement already.
    I hadn’t really given myself the opportunity to examine her cunt the night before, and so I was struck by what a small, delicate fold of flesh it was that had brought me such astonishing pleasure. The inner lips were small and fine, peeking out from her labia majora like a lace cuff from a sleeve; the clit was barely visible — and yet I knew just how sensitive it was.
    Leaning back in to her, I kissed that jewel of flesh and sucked it into my mouth.
    I’d thought that I had heard the full range of Veronica’s voice during the run of Romeo and Juliet , from high sighs of desire to low growls of anger, but the deep groan that I elicited from her was a sound I’d never heard before, not even the previous night. “You like?” I asked.
    “I like,” she answered, managing to sound both breathy and husky at the same time. Her fingers clenched in my hair, and I took the hint, clamping my mouth onto her pussy, tasting it, and tasting it again.
    I’ve always liked pleasing my lovers with my mouth. I love being able to taste them, I love feeling their excitement growing against my tongue, I love having my hands free. I stroked the sides of her breasts, causing her to arch.
    I love being able to watch her whole body tremble with passion, all because of what I’m doing to her with the smallest touch of my lips, my tongue, my fingers.
    Veronica’s belly was