Escape to Erotica: Five erotic short stories

Escape to Erotica: Five erotic short stories

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781908766571
Publisher: Xcite Books
Publication date: 02/14/2012
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 76
Sales rank: 1,085,364
File size: 190 KB

About the Author

Maxim worked for many years in book publishing as an editor and launched the Murder One Bookshop, which he owned and ran for over 20 years. He now writes, edits and translates full-time in London.

Find Maxim at:

His blog: here

Read an Excerpt

He fits her like a glove, sheathed inside her lust like a perfectly sculpted jewel created by some unknown god. From a deep pit in her furthest and most private core, she feels the concentric waves of pleasure rise and begin their endless journey and abandons herself within their assault. Their caress. A sensation she thought she had lost touch with a long time ago.

‘Yes,’ she whispers in the silence of the hotel room.

‘Yes,’ he answers, as he keeps on moving inside her with relentless repetitiveness, his hands forcefully gripping her shoulders as he lowers himself against her again and again.

Her nails mechanically graze the skin on his back, as she holds him ever tighter against her.

Outside, it’s raining hard, the wind rising from the East hurling the storm against the rickety shutters of the room.

But that’s outside and he doesn’t give a damn. He’s in another world; he’s inside her. And all is well with the world for now.

 

It all began in Paris.

A trade fair in a steel and concrete bunker on the outer periphery highway, a building with all the personality of a giant armadillo with a thousand asymmetric piercings illuminating its metallic belly. The dim noise of countless, frantic business conversations flittering from stand to stand, and the smell of food and sweat wafting between the alleys. A combined aroma of nervous fear and Italian prosciutto that welcomed you to this year’s International Food Raw Ingredients Fair.

She was greeting potential customers with a fixed smile painted across her lips on the stand of her employers, who imported Extra Pure Virgin Olive Oil from Spain, while he wandered, not attached to any particular company, just distractedly looking around in the hope of finding an angle for a human interest column for a magazine he often wrote for. His reservation on Eurostar was for the following morning, and he had found himself with a free afternoon and the notion of the trade fair which he’d read about during the course of his breakfast trawl across the Internet sounded somewhat intriguing. Miles from his customary journalistic beat.

Cruising between the stands, he’d nibbled countless varieties of cheese, been offered dozens of miniature plastic cups of sundry wines and exotic liqueurs and dipped carefully-segmented croutons of bread into innumerable saucers with every imaginable species of oil and relish.

‘Sir?’ 

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