Hot Erotica
“The Hot Shot: Part I” a sex story by A.M. Hartnett
Read Part II here
Carly stared at her reflection in the small pedestal mirror in front of her. She pressed the cotton ball to the lip of the bottle and mumbled, “It took me an hour to get this just right. Now I’ve got to do it all over again.”
She’d spent all morning with her dark hair wrapped around hot rollers while she caught up on her housework. When she arrived at the beach house, she sat on the veranda with her make-up items lined up on the step to put on her face. By the time she’d slipped into the costume -- a vintage halter with ruffles down the front, short shorts and peek-a-boo shoes -- she had looked like the cheesecake housewife that Kyle had described to her. Throughout the shoot she’d felt like a million bucks.
Now she was wiping it all clean. Kyle didn’t want that sweet but sinful look for the next shoot. He just wanted the sinful. Trashy eyes and lips, hair mussed, tits pushed up and squeezed together. He was going for the movie bad-girl who was all the rage in the exploitation films from the 60s. Carly wasn’t sure she could carry it off. She had a computer print-out of some stills from a prison escape movie: three women posing in front of a police car. She was modelling her look after all three combined. The bitch, the vamp, and the sweetheart all in one.
Kyle milled around the beach house. When the shoot was over he would make the transformation from a boyish, buoyant young man who saw a fantasy in every room he walked into and on the face of every man or woman who crossed his path into a scowling, unshaven artist with the temperament of a wolverine.
He was sitting in a lounge chair a few feet from her. He held up his camera, not his Pentax, but the inexpensive blue Kodak he always had with him for impromptu shots.
She turned and puckered her lips into a kiss for the first shot, grinned for the second, and waved her hand in front of her face for the third. “Okay, enough. I have to make with the ugly before I can get all sleazed up.”
He slipped the camera into the front pocket of his blue shirt. “You look good with no make-up on. We should do some natural shots.”
“I don’t do natural. I haven’t done natural since I was thirteen.”
“You did natural in the shower last year.”
“Yes, with my hair all over my face to hide the spots and bumps.” She swiped the cotton over her left eyelid twice and then soaked another piece for the right eye. “And no one was looking at my face in those shots.”
Astride by Marty Provost
“Actually, what sold those shots was --”
“I know, I know. The vulnerability, the innocence, the shyness. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that the water was cold and my nipples were like granite.” She stuffed the dirty cotton balls into the plastic bag she’d brought and rested it beside her, then dug into her bag for the package of baby wipes. She took a quick glance at her watch. “I have to be out of here at six o’clock.”
“He’ll be here.”
Regardless of his words, Kyle’s gaze meandered to the winding driveway to his right. A scowl touched his features and Carly could tell that he was trying to keep a hold on his irritation. The other model was supposed to have arrived almost an hour ago. The scene was set up on the beach and they were ready. Kyle had borrowed a car, a sweet vintage Mustang that he had polished that morning. Unless the other model made an appearance soon the whole thing was going to go down the toilet.
She’d never met Donne Russell. She’d never even heard of him, neither as a model or as an acquaintance of Kyle’s. So far, she was unimpressed.
Carly rose and padded barefoot through the patio doors and into the living room. “Where did you meet this guy?”
“I got an email from him a few weeks ago. He was trying to line up some jobs and came across the ad on my website. Sent me some shots of himself and I immediately thought of this.”
“Big and ugly?”
“Not quite.”
He stood, walked to the doorway behind her and leaned against the jamb. Exhaustion smudged in dark circles under his eyes and he was paler than she had ever seen him. His sandy hair stuck out in cowlicks at the back of his head like he hadn’t brushed it that morning.
She doubted he did. When he was wound up for a shoot everything else in the world came in second.
She got to her feet and brushed past him in the doorway. She went straight for the kitchenette and turned on the hot water. Letting it run through her fingers, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Then what?”
“He’s big but not ugly. What got me was this one shot he’d sent me. It was completely candid. Here, I’ll show you.” He dug his phone out of the holster at his hip and pressed the smooth face, then handed it over to her.
“Damn,” was all she could say. The screen was miniscule but the image sent a ripple of desire through Carly.
The model had taken it himself in front of a foggy mirror, capturing only from his lips to just below his abdomen. He was trim and tanned and glistening from the shower behind him. It was like looking at an optical illusion: the centre of the screen was taken up by a bare chest and at either end was a whisper of reddish hair, one tuft on his chin and another several inches beneath his belly button. The picture was almost perfectly symmetrical.
“He works days. That’s probably why he’s late. You’ll see the real thing soon enough.” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers.
She passed the phone over and smiled. “Are you sure I’m right for this? I don’t exactly exude bad-ass sex kitten.”
“That’s the point. That’s what makes it so easy for him to overpower you.”
She turned the knob for the cold water and bent to splash her face, then soaped up. She rubbed the droplets away and blinked the moisture from her lashes. “I don’t know where you get your ideas.”
Kyle laughed and opened his mouth, but before he could reply the low whine of a car motoring up the driveway could be heard. His face lit up and he checked his watch. “That’s him. Ten to three. That’s on time.”
“Barely.” She followed in his wake as he moved to the living room and dropped on the wicker sofa while he yanked open the door.
“Just in time,” she heard Kyle say, “I was getting worried.”
“There was a bit of traffic on the highway,” was the reply that preceded her first glimpse at the man.
Donne Russell had a wonderfully deep and confident voice and he didn’t sound the least bit apologetic about the delay. When he stepped into the foyer, Carly could see that his expression matched his tone.
“Nice place,” he said. His mouth was a firm line and he scanned his surroundings with an impartial eye.
“We’ve got it until seven o’clock. Carly has to leave before then so we can get some shots of you alone at the car.” Kyle smirked and turned his gaze to Carly. “You ready?”
“I have to get my clothes,” she said and stood.
Donne glanced at Carly and their eyes met. Her stomach flopped. Even fully clothed he was captivating. He had straight eyebrows a shade darker than his hair and eyes the color of pale green sea glass. Just like in the picture, he was unshaven with ruddy bristles over his cheeks and chin. His grey T-shirt hugged his broad shoulders and slender torso, taut against his six-pack. He had big arms, smattered with red-gold hair, and a black rose tattoo trailed along the inside of one forearm.
He cocked one hip to the side and his lips curved into a roguish smile. “I’ve seen your pictures.”
His voice ran up and down her spine like fingertips that came to rest between her shoulder blades. She straightened in an attempt to suppress her shiver, and leaned against the arm of the sofa. “Where?”
“On Kyle’s web site.”
“Then you’ve seen everything. I don’t have to worry about you being nervous.”
He strode towards her, stopping just a few feet from her. “Have I really seen everything?”
His expression was the most arrogant she’d ever seen.
“Don’t bet on seeing everything today,” she said in a cool voice.
He looked to Kyle, who stood a few feet behind him. “I think that’s up to the photographer in the room.”
Kyle snickered. “I think we can get started.”
* * * *
They were going to shoot at the end of the trail leading down to the beach where the Mustang was parked. Just like most of his other photo sets, this was supposed to evoke the not-so-distant past. That morning had been the peaches and cream wholesomeness of a pretty newlywed keeping house. He’d sell those pictures on the Internet as stock photography. This next shoot was to be his project, the one he wanted to turn into a book: B-movies where the women weren’t paid to act but to burst out of their costumes as manly men hunted them down. Once he started shooting it would be 1962 and Carly would be the bad girl on the run.
Or rather, the bad girl caught.
Carly wasn’t quite sure what Donne was supposed to be, but he didn’t look like some straight laced G-man.
She was changing in the back bedroom of the beach house when Donne entered. Without a word to her, he moved directly to the bed, laid out his garment bag and zipped it open.
Carly watched quietly as he pulled out a pair of dress pants and a white shirt with a tie looped around the collar. He didn’t belong in a suit, she decided. He was too rugged. He should have shaved or slicked down his hair.
Yet she knew that was what Kyle was counting on. He liked the little touches of the modern interspersed with the old. It was why he never made Carly take out her belly-button ring, and it was probably why he had selected a guy who was more of a bad boy than a hero.
Donne draped the dress shirt over the foot of the bed and peeled his T-shirt over his head. Carly curled her fingers into her palm. Just a few minutes in his presence and she was dying to put her hands on him. She hoped that whatever Kyle had planned involved a lot of skin on skin.
His gaze slid over her. She was still in her kimono. “Your turn.”
“I don’t get paid until Kyle starts shooting.”
“Who said this was about work?” He worked his belt from the buckle and then unzipped. “We’re going to be fucking in about ten minutes anyway so --”
“Excuse me? Who said anything about fucking?” Carly took a step back and made a disgusted sound. “This isn’t porn, you know.”
“Call it what you want. It’s still a hard dick, a wet pussy, and a guy with a camera.” He shoved his slacks to the marble floor and stepped out of them.
Carly bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling as she studied him. Just as it had been from the neck up, his lower half completed the picture to perfection. His legs were furred with the same red-gold hair that flared around his cut cock.
He turned as he stepped out of his pants. It was an obvious display to show off an ass that was a marvel of hewn muscle. He glanced over his shoulder. “Your turn.”
Carly smirked. “I told you, we don’t get paid until Kyle start shooting.”
She turned her back on him and strode towards the chair where her outfit rested: a tight dress that would hide nothing, stockings and garters, and knee-high boots. Hardly practical for a girl on the run.
“Where did you come from?” she asked. “Kyle said you just emailed him out of the blue one day.”
“What does it matter?”
She rolled her eyes as she turned in time to see him stride across the floor to the mirror hanging on the bedroom door. God, he was infuriating. “I’m just making conversation. What do you do when you’re not taking off your clothes for the camera?”
He glanced over his shoulder and raised his brows. “Work. I’m part-time at St. Mark’s for the summer. I might stay, I might not.”
“What do you teach?”
“Mostly first year English. The second summer semester is fantasy and sci-fi.”
“They teach that in university now?”
His smirk widened. “It’s not all Jane Austen. What about you?”
“I’ve never read fantasy or sci-fi and I wouldn’t know Austen from Jackie Collins.”
“I mean, what do you do?”
“I give tours at the museum on the waterfront.”
In the distance she heard Kyle slamming the trunk of his car. Her back to Donne, she picked up the red panties and shoved her legs into them. She rolled black stockings up to her thighs and then twisted into the garter belt.
Her fingers went still as a prickle ran through her scalp. She turned. Her eyes met Donne’s in the mirror and held for just a moment before he grinned.
She lowered her gaze but continued to discreetly watch him. His cock had started to arc away from his balls. He ran his hands over his chest, along his belly, and closed his fist around his cock. His thumb circled the smooth head, smearing the moisture that oozed from the tip.
Carly pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth as thick arousal went through her, skittering along her pussy like a hot tongue before centering in her clit.
She curled her fingers around the knot at her waist to keep from slipping her hand between her legs. “Impressive.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He turned and pumped the shaft before releasing it. His dick bobbed as he stepped towards her. “Your turn.”
This time she had no retort for him. She tugged the knot free and let the robe pool at her feet. In nothing but the panties and stockings, she turned towards him. “Well?”
Donne cocked a brow and looked down the length of her body. Her nipples tightened into hard peaks. She could feel the moisture seeping from the mouth of her cunt onto wet the band of silk between her legs.
“Impressive,” he said and closed the gap between them. He made a low sound that surrounded her as he skimmed the back of his hand across her belly. Her abs clenched and she held her breath as his knuckles grazed lower.
He chuckled and his hand stilled. “You know that picture of you on the website, the one by the window where you’re in nothing but a pair of shoes, and you’ve got that necklace dangling out of your mouth?”
Her gaze dropped from those amazing eyes to his mouth. “One of Kyle’s favourites. What about it?”
“That’s pretty much why I contacted Kyle to begin with. First time I saw it I just sat back in my chair and started jerking off.”
“So you’re not so much an aspiring model as you are a stalker?”
He lifted his shoulder and leaned in close enough that his breath streamed over her face. “At this juncture, call me interested.”
Carly ran her tongue over her bottom lip. She sucked in a deep breath as he reached out and ran his middle finger along the outline of her pussy. Her clit throbbed at his touch.
“Very interested,” he whispered. A smile toyed at the corners of his mouth as he slipped his finger beneath the elastic and rubbed his fingers into the wet heat he found inside. “Tell me about you and Kyle.”
“Kyle’s the photographer and I’m the model.”
“Are you fucking him?”
“No.”
“Did you ever?”
She sucked in a deep breath as his fingers toyed with her clit. “Never.”
“Why not?”
“No chemistry. You know how it is when you’ve been a friend with someone a long time.”
Carly pressed her hands to Donne’s chest and pushed, but he swept one arm around her to hold her in place.
“So he won’t embarrass himself trying to kick my ass if I want to fuck you.”
Two fingers slid into her cunt. He tilted his head and flicked his tongue against her bottom lip. Again he made that low, purring sound. Carly couldn’t help but echo it as he flexed his fingers against her slick walls.
“We ready to go?” Kyle called from the hall.
Donne’s sudden withdrawal left her burning. He took a step back and brought his fingers up to his lips. Carly’s cunt clenched as she watched him lick the moisture away.
“One second,” he called to Kyle and moved back to the bed with one last glance at her.
Her legs felt like jelly as she turned her back on him and her fingers shook as she attached her garters to her stockings.
****
Kyle stood on the hood of the car, legs spread, camera pointed down at them. Carly squinted up at him. Her hands were flat against the hot metal in front of her. She didn’t breathe as Donne slid his hand over her shoulder and clamped down. The other hand curled at the hem of her skirt.
“Not yet,” Kyle said, “just hold her like that for a minute. She’s not sure that this is what she wants. Make it more of a challenge for her.”
Carly swallowed to keep the scornful sound at the back of her throat from getting loose. A trickle of sweat ran along her temple. It wasn’t just the summer heat. Her blood was simmering beneath the skin. All the heat in her body was centered between her legs where Donne’s thigh was wedged.
To hell with having to get to work. She’d made up her mind to call in sick. She didn’t want to be this character. She wanted to be Carly, back in the bedroom with Donne, legs wrapped around him as he fucked her long and hard.
“You’re just realizing that you’ve tried to fuck over the wrong man,” Kyle said. “Mr. Moneybags came off as being vanilla, easily manipulated by showing him a bit of what you’ve got. Now you get it. Now you realize that he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
She’d never mistake Donne for a sheep. He wore his outfit well. The dress shirt was unbuttoned and the tie hung loose around his neck. There was nothing benign about that smirk or the calculated way he moved, like a snake coiling around its prey, seducing while it prepared to strike.
Donne dragged her up against him and nuzzled his face into her hair. He shifted behind her, and she felt the hard column of his cock through his trousers. “You don’t seem like the type.”
In the Barn, Dance by Mick Payton
“What type?”
“The indecisive type. You wouldn’t need a challenge.”
“You’re forgetting something.” She stood a little higher on her toes. Donne stiffened as she rubbed her ass against him. “This is all pretend. I may not need the challenge, but Candy St. James does.”
“Candy St. James?”
“Didn’t he tell you? That’s the name he picked out for this little cupcake.”
Kyle grinned from behind the camera. “Can’t you just see that name on the marquee of a seedy drive-in?”
Donne chuckled. “And I would be?”
Carly grinned and glanced over her shoulder. Only his smile was visible from the corner of her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re just one of many.”
Kyle squatted until he was eye level with Carly, but it was to Donne he looked. “Pull her hair away from her neck, over the other shoulder. Tease her a little.”
Donne’s touch was light as air and sent a hot shiver down her spine. She bit her tongue and for the umpteenth time wished that Kyle would just get on with it. The sooner they were done playing make believe, the sooner she and Donne could get the hell out of here. There hadn’t been another opportunity to be alone since Kyle had called them to the beach, but she had no doubt in her mind that her evening was looking up.
The tips of Donne’s fingers lingered just beneath the hairline. His breath streamed over her shoulders. “You look like a Candy.”
Before she could reply, he suddenly released her around the neck and gasped her hips. He jerked her back and ground against her.
Carly hissed through her teeth as he bunched her skirt in his fist. She glanced at Kyle. She could tell by the angle with which he held the camera that the lens was pointed where Donne fingered her garters.
“So tell me, Kyle, exactly what is going on here?” Donne tapped her ankle with his foot and spread her legs further apart. “I caught her. Now what?”
“You’ve been around. See if she’s got something under there. Undress her.”
Donne’s laughter resonated all around her. “This guy’s got it made.”
The camera whirred as Donne traced the black strap of her garter. The other hand slowly worked the zipper from between her shoulder blades to just above her ass. The garment loosened.
Looking past Kyle, Carly saw the beach stretch out along the coast. Further down she could see shapes darting in and out of the surf, too far away and too tiny to make out age or sex. She guessed a family from one of the cottage properties this place was known for, oblivious to what was going on a half mile away on the dunes.
“I’ve got to say, I don’t see where she could possibly be hiding anything in this.” Donne ran his hand up her bare back and pushed between her shoulder blades. Carly went down. The dress buckled in front. The satin lining rubbed her hard nipples as he tugged the dress. He pushed until she was flat, her tits squashed against the warm metal, her ass thrust up. Donne bent as he shoved the gown to her ankles, and then ran his hand along the inside of one leg and then the other. Even with her panties remaining, she felt so exposed.
“If I had known I was going to get frisked I would have stuck a pistol in my crotch,” she said.
Donne’s fingers curled against her pussy. She held her breath as he worked his finger under her panties. He simply teased her this time, crooking the tip of his finger inside before retreating.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Donne said to Kyle. “Now what?”
“Now it’s time for Candy to show you who the boss really is.”
Donne snapped her taut garter strap. “Excuse me? I thought that I was boss.”
“Only as long as she lets you.”
That was her cue. Carly pushed up, knocking Donne back. She turned and grasped the front of his shirt. The surprise on his face mingled with amusement and he allowed her to turn him around until he was pressed against the grille. He flattened his hands on the hood behind him.
Carly could taste her arousal at the back of her throat, thick like syrup. She flicked one button after another free and split his shirt open, then scraped her nails down his tanned chest. The heat coming off of him was infectious, racing through her body and settling in her abdomen.
“Oh yeah, this is the cover,” Kyle said from his post above Donne’s head. “Touch up those red lips a little bit; make the color of the sky pop ...”
Carly paid him no attention. She shucked Donne’s shirt down to his elbows and widened her stance as far as she could with the dress still around her ankles. She skimmed her hand along his belly, her palm tingling with every inch she touched.
“You know, I saw your picture, too. Kyle showed me just before you showed up.”
“And what did you think?”
“Disappointing. I didn’t see enough.” She worked his belt free of the buckle. “You’re a real tease, you know that?”
“Kiss him,” Kyle said.
She yanked open his fly and shoved her hand past the waistband of his cotton boxers. Licking her lips, she closed her hand around his hot shaft. “And that was a dirty trick in the bedroom.”
“Carly, kiss him.”
“You’re right, Donne,” she went on and used the other hand to shove his pants to his knees. “I don’t need a challenge.”
Kyle sucked in a deep breath as she rubbed the underside of Donne’s cock. “Jesus, Carly.”
Donne tilted his hips towards her. “You heard the man. Give me a kiss.”
Her pulse picked up the pace as she leaned in. When she hesitated, Donne wriggled out of his shirt. He cupped the back of her head and curled his fingers in her hair. She had only an instant to draw a breath before his mouth came down hard on hers.
Kyle, the car, the beach, and the whole world just evaporated as he coiled his tongue around hers. He twisted her around until she was again pressed against the car and bent her back. At the same time he thrust his fingers into her panties and without any preamble rubbed her clit with two fingers.
She felt the car bounce as Kyle leapt from the hood. His voice was fuzzy in her ears when he spoke. “Jesus Christ. Don’t let me interrupt.”
Donne drew back and grinned at her. The cheap lipstick she wore smeared on his mouth.
“Come on, Kyle,” he said without tearing his gaze from hers, “haven’t you ever heard of improvisation?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of by the hour? I paid good money to rent this house and it wasn’t so you two could get off on whatever little fantasy you’ve got going in your head.”
Carly moaned as Donne pinched her clit and sent a hot coil along her pussy. She turned her head as far as Donne would let her and smiled as he mouthed from her lips to the crook of her neck, leaving a greasy trail of lipstick on her skin. She slicked her palm with the moisture that seeped from the slit in the tip of his cock.
“This is your fantasy, Kyle,” she said, her voice low and breathy. “Didn’t you tell me you wanted edgy for this book?”
“Edgy, but classy. Not smut.”
“That’s too bad,” Donne muttered as he nuzzled just below her ear. “That’s what you’re getting, pal.”
“Then you’re not getting paid.”
Carly growled from the back of her throat. “Jesus, lighten the hell up. This isn’t Vanity Fair or Time.” She turned back to Donne as his lips returned to her mouth. She flicked her tongue against his as she kicked the dress away.
Kyle snorted. “You want me to keep shooting?”
“Why not?” Donne turned to Kyle, his expression lit with annoyance. “You don’t hear either of us complaining. Think of the money you’re looking at with this side of Candy.”
Carly said nothing. The word money popped out at her like a rubber band snapping against the skin. She’d taken it all off for Kyle and simulated sex for him with both men and women. The idea of going all the way had never crossed her mind.
Then again she had never been legitimately turned on until Donne. She was ready for anything.
She nipped his lower lip. His gaze snapped back to hers and his irritation dissipated. He slid his hand lower until her clit throbbed against his palm and his fingers probed her cunt. “You in?”
“I’m in if you’re in,” she whispered and squeezed her thighs together to hold onto the delicious pressure that had built. She didn’t think it was possible, but the glint that sparked in his eyes made him look even wickeder.
He drew back and worked her garters free. “Take off your panties.”
As soon as she shoved the wet mess of silk down her thighs he reattached the tiny clamps to her stockings and lifted her onto the hood. He grasped her waist and then cursed. “Shit. My clothes are inside.”
Carly tucked her hands behind his neck and pulled him closer. “So?”
“So the condoms are in my back pocket.” He twisted around. “Kyle?”
It didn’t seem like Kyle heard him. He stood with his back to the car and stared at the house.
“Kyle.”
Kyle turned, his gaze landing on Carly. “What?”
“Do you have a condom?”
Kyle did nothing but stare for a moment. Carly couldn’t break eye contact. She was there and not there, floating high above the earth and at the same time ground.
Perfect Timing by Mick Payton
“Please, Kyle.”
He sighed and reached into his back pocket. His wallet creaked as he opened it. “Carly, you sure about this? This is ... fuck, this is a huge deal.”
“Just give him the condom and start taking pictures.”
He extracted the condom and held it between two fingers. Donne held his hand out. Another deep breath, another long look at Carly, and Kyle dropped the condom into Donne’s hand.
Read Part II here
Originally published May 2011