Eleven
More
by
Aurora
Jamison
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This book is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products
of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Fantasy
Games -- Eleven More
Copyright
ã 2006 Aurora Jamison
Cover
art by Carol MacLeod
All rights
reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this
work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other
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Published
by eXtasy Books 2006
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Eleven
More
Gloria
Talbot stabbed at the autumn weeds with her trowel, savagely twisted and then
looked at the pile of dirt. She was breathing heavily because of the exertion.
"What's
wrong with me?" she said aloud. The woman rocked back on her heels, then
stood. She inched past the rose bushes that were the symbols of her marriage. A
few stunted blossoms, no real flowers, more dead leaves than living, bugs
chewing away at those--and thorns. Everywhere were thorns. Her six years of
marriage had been okay until a year ago, then it had all slowly dissolved into
. . . nothing much. If there had been a big explosion, she could have dealt
with that. But it had been so slow, the way Abel never quite wanted to make
love anymore. The longer hours he worked because everyone else was getting laid
off and he did the work of three now. Always something else
intruding on their time together until there was hardly any at all. The
past couple months had been the worst. If she had seen her own husband more
than a few hours a day, it was worth putting a red-gold star on the calendar.
There would not have been many stars.
Gloria
wandered through her garden. She was good at growing things except the
flowering plants. A metaphor for her life. The rose
bushes extended the entire west side of the backyard and not a single rosebush
was prospering. But the ground cover and the small plants elsewhere, the leafy
ones, even her vegetable garden--all were good.
"The
roses are supposed to signify love," she said with some bitterness. Gloria
saw only decay and slow withering.
She
walked to a small reflecting pond and peered into it. She had liked what she
saw there a few years ago. So had Abel. He had always
preferred her strawberry blonde hair to be a little mussed but out of boredom
she had become more careful in fixing it until she spent an hour a day making
certain every strand was in the proper place. She patted down an escaping
strand and lifted her chin. The reflection showed a lovely woman. A few more
wrinkles than when she got married, a few more pounds, but nothing outrageous.
It wasn't as if Abel hadn't put on weight, too. And his hair was receding like
the surf against the beach. It positively ran out to sea leaving a shiny expanse
he tried to cover with silly comb-overs. He had
hardly spoken to her for three days after she suggested he simply shave his
head like Kojak. She had not realized his hair meant
so much to his vanity nor that her own attention to
her own was like a knife stuck into his heart.
If
that had been all, Gloria knew they could have worked through it. But the sex
had been declining. There was never any fun. When they did get into bed, it
never varied. Ever. Her bed had been a desert for the
past three months.
"I'm
a good-looking woman," she said, staring at her rippling reflection in the
pond. "I deserve more."
She
did but had no idea how to get it. She loved Abel and had since high school.
That might have been the problem, but she saw no way around it. Neither of them
had much experience sexually when they had married. She had been faithful to
him, but she was beginning to wonder if she could say the same about him.
It
all fit. Longer hours at work. Less
sex at home. His vanity.
A
sudden crash caused her to spin around. Gloria clutched her trowel when she
heard scraping sounds from next door. The house had been up for sale for more
than three months. Even in a hot housing market, it had attracted few lookers.
Abel said it was because the real estate agent was lazy. Gloria didn't know or
much care. The former occupants of the house had been busybodies, all the time
snooping about and asking impertinent questions.
She
went to the fence and peered over it, careful not to get tangled up in the
thorny rosebush stalks. Her eyes went wide. The back door stood open. She
looked around to see if neighborhood kids might have thrown a rock through a
window to get inside. That would explain the sound she had heard.
Gloria
saw no one.
More
curious than afraid, she went to the back of the yard, out the gate and around
to look over the fence. The door definitely stood ajar.
"Kids,"
Gloria said scornfully. She opened the rear gate and went into the yard. She
stripped off her work gloves as she reached the door and saw a single pane had
been broken to let the kids inside to play.
"Hey,
get out of there!" Gloria stepped into the kitchen and looked around. Her
voice echoed through the empty house. Gloria dropped her gloves and trowel on
the counter and stepped to the door into the dining room. A dark flash was all
she saw from the corner of her eye. "I'll call the cops if you don't leave
right now. You can't just break into someone's house like this."
She
heard the soft shuffle of feet in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Crossing
the dining room, she turned and looked down the hall. No sound. The vandals
breaking in had not left, unless they had gone into a bedroom and opened a
window.
"Are
you gone? You'd better be."
She
glanced into the bathroom, raised an eyebrow at how nice it was. It had a
Jacuzzi. Gloria then opened the bedroom door opposite to see if the kids had
ducked in her.
Strong
arms circled her from behind and lifted her off her feet. She kicked to no
avail. A strong hand covered her lips to keep her from calling out.
"Don't
struggle," came the hot whisper in her ear. She
twisted violently and got a quick look behind her. The man wore a ski mask. All
she saw were hot eyes peering out at her and lips curled cruelly. She fought
even harder, only to be carried forward and tossed onto a blanket on the floor.
She rolled over and came to rest on her back, legs up and her elbows bracing
her on the blanket.
"You
can't get away with this," she said. Her breath came in heavy gasps and
her heart felt as if it would explode. But she had to admit the man didn't seem
all that menacing except for the mask. He wore a T-shirt so tight it showed
every rip and cut of his chest and belly. His jeans were equally tight--and
Gloria could not help but stare at his crotch.
"I
won't hurt you," he said in a husky whisper.
"Is
that--are you padded there?" Gloria pointed at his crotch.
"Does
this look like I'm packing?" He ran his zipper down and a huge cock popped
out.
She
edged away on the blanket, but she was fascinated by the sight of his erection
bobbing and jerking in front of his body. A million fractured thoughts ran
through her brain and most of them frightened her. She was going to be raped.
He might want to kill her.
She
wanted that cock.
Gloria
was too confused to do more than shake her head slowly.
"Suck
on it," the man said, stepping forward. "Do it."
"This
isn't right," Gloria said. Then she yelped when he caught up her slender
wrists in one huge hand and pinned her down to the floor. "Don't do this
to me."
"I
want you to suck my cock," he repeated. "Either do it or leave. Now."
He
released her wrists. Gloria was too confused to know what to do. She saw how
hard he was. How long and hard. Her mouth began to water. It had been so long
since she had given Abel head. She loved oral sex, but he shied away from it.
"No
one will know," the burglar said. He raised his leg and moved so his
weight held her down. His thick cock danced enticingly only inches from her
lips. It was all she could see. The afternoon light cast heavy shadows through
the room, but some quirk of lighting caused a ray of sunlight to shine directly
on his prick.
Oral
sex wasn't sex. Not really. That was what everyone said. It was only . . . only
thrilling.
Gloria
raised her head just a little and ran her lips teasingly over the tip of the
man's cock. She loved the way it responded. The taste was exciting and the
thick purpled head throbbed with life. He wanted her mouth all around his cock.
It had been so long! She craned her neck a little more and took him an inch
into her mouth. The taste, the feel, the promise. She
began moving up and down awkwardly on his thick cock, trying to take even more
into her mouth. The rubbery tip bounced off the roof of her mouth and almost
started down into her throat, but the angle was wrong. All she could so was run
her tongue over the sensitive underside. How he responded! She felt the
erection getting harder and hotter.
He sat back, his weight pressing her down.
"What
more do you want me to do?"
Gloria
wondered who spoke. Then she realized she had!
"You
want more? What makes you good enough for that?"
"I
. . . let me go. Now."
He
rose and stepped away without argument. Gloria scrambled to get to the door.
She hesitated. He had made no move to stop her.
"You
give good head," he said.
"I--"
She
found herself caught up from behind again. His strong hands circled her waist
and then began moving up her body. She should fight, claw, scratch, try to escape. The sensation of those powerful hands moving
over her belly and slowly working up to cup her breasts turned her weak in the
knees. She sagged against his strong body.
His
hands crushed her breasts. She felt her nipples beginning to harden. Fear? Lust! She wanted more. Gloria reached around behind
the man and grabbed at his muscular ass. She felt the play of his muscles as he
shoved his crotch into the round curves of her ass cheeks.
"I
am going to give you more. You want it, don't you? Don't you?"
"No,
no," she said, trying to free herself.
"Tell
me what you want, and I'll give it to you."
"I
want you to let me go!"
"That's
not what you want. You want this, don't you? Admit it. Ask for it. Beg me for
this!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand around behind her, between
them, so she could wrap her slender fingers around the thick stalk of his cock.
It was hot and heavy and he was right. She wanted it.
"Yes,"
she sobbed out. "I want it."
"Up the ass?
Do you want it up the ass?"
"No,
no, not that way. In my pussy. Take me in my pussy!"
Gloria
gasped as he pushed her forward. She fell to the hallway floor on hands and
knees. He moved quickly behind her to grab her around the waist. He reached
beneath her and ran his fingers under the waistband of her jeans.
Gloria
tried to make sense of the feelings colliding in her and couldn't. She didn't
want to be raped, but this wasn't rape. She wanted it. She had asked him for
his cock. But she could stop at any instant.
She
didn't want to.
He
popped open the button on her jeans and stripped them back off her ample hips
and down around her thighs.
"No
panties. I like that," he said in his hoarse whisper.
Before
Gloria could say a word, she felt his long, hot shaft poking between her
buttocks. She gasped when the heavy tip of his cock probed forward and then
slid the length of her pussy lips. She sagged down, head resting on her crossed
arms. Her behind was up in the air, making a perfect target for him.
But
he was in no hurry to enter and fuck her. His hands moved along the outsides of
her thighs and then around to rest on her heaving belly. She thought the top of
her head was going to explode when his knowing finger pressed downward and
found the erect spire of her clit. He began diddling it as he stroked back and
forth, his cock parting her cunt lips with every stroke.
She
felt his upper thighs rubbing against her bare bottom, but it
was the sound of him panting harshly as desire overtook him that excited
her more. She was turning him on. He wanted her. He wanted her almost as badly
as she wanted him!
"Do
it, do it now," she cried out. "I'm going crazy. I want to feel your--"
She let out a long, loud gasp as he found the path leading directly into her
molten center. His hips pistoned smoothly, sending his cock directly into her hot, lust-slickened pussy. One instant she was empty and the next she
was filled to overflowing. Every twitch of his dick sent a tiny earthquake
throughout her loins. When he pressed down on her clit, she groaned with need.
He began stroking over it, pressing and flipping his finger lightly against the
very tip. Every touch on her clit was electric.
Or
was it his hidden cock? He filled her to overflowing with his thickness. She
tensed her strong inner muscles in a loving embrace. She heard the sucking
sounds as he retreated from her tight sheath. Trickles of her inner oils ran
down the insides of her thighs and tickled, stimulated, made her want even
more.
"I
shouldn't," she began. Then she realized she should. He was in control.
She had only to let him have his will and enjoy what he was doing. He had not
threatened her. From the first sight of his bulging crotch, she had been first
intrigued and then needy for what he had to offer. The taste of his prick was
still on her lips. She loved the heavy musk scent of an aroused man as much as
the feel of his cock sliding back and forth over her tongue.
But
this! This was pure heaven. Heaven and torture.
"Please,
please," she sobbed out.
His
finger flicked across the sensitive tip of her pink spire. Her clit felt like a
balloon being blown up until it would surely explode.
"You
want me to stop? You want me to pull out?" He slowly retreated until only
the plum-sized tip of his cock remained within her.
"No,
no, fuck me. I want you to fuck me!"
Her
entire body trembled with repressed desire. How long had it been since she had
felt this way with Abel? She could not remember. It had been weeks since he had
even touched her. He was repulsed by her and a masked burglar wanted her. It
made no sense. Nothing made any sense other than the emotions rising within
her. She remembered them. She coveted them. She had thought they were dusty
remnants of the past but were now being reborn within her.
His
hand left her clit and stroked up to her dangling tits. His fingers probed down
and found the hard nubs of her nipples. He squeezed and tweaked until she
thrashed about.
"Fuck
me," she begged.
He
did. His hips began levering forward with increasing power. He sank deeper into
her pussy with every stroke until she thought he might split her in half. Every
time he touched her, he found a new and wonderfully erotic spot. Her body
tingled in places where she had never responded before. Thighs.
Across her nipples. Her clit.
Her belly. Her pussy! He buried himself balls deep
within her until she was on the brink of orgasm.
How
long it had been? How long? Too long.
And
then he was gone from inside her. His hands were no longer exploring her body.
She did not feel the heat of his thighs pressing against her bare bottom. The
hollowness inside returned to mock her.
"Wh-where
are you?" A million fractured thoughts raced through her mind. She had
made a mistake and done something wrong. In her passion she had cried out
something that turned him off. Had she said no when she really meant yes?
"Where
are you?"
"Find
me," came the command echoing down the hallway. "Get
naked and find me."
Gloria
rolled over, her feet tangled in her jeans as she
stared down the hallway. The burglar was nowhere to be seen, but she didn't
have to make much of a guess where he had gone. There were only two bedrooms in
that direction. She started to pull up her jeans and get out of the house. She
ought to call the police and report this.
She
ought to, but she wasn't going to. Kicking hard, she got free of her shoes and
jeans, then reached down and grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt. She hesitated
for a moment, thinking about what she was doing--what she was going to do.
The
warmth lingering in her pussy told her to continue, but good sense told her to
get the hell out of the house. She had no idea what she was getting herself
into. But she could leave now and there was no way he could stop her. She had a
clear path to either the front or the rear doors. But if she left she would
miss out on whatever the burglar might have in store for her.
She
reached down between her legs and stroked briskly over her pussy lips. The
tingles she gave herself were nothing compared to the sensation that had
blasted through her like a heat wave when he had fucked her from behind. Her
fingers smeared her thick lubricants oozing from her pussy all over her sex
lips. Her palm pressed down into her pussy mound and compressed her insides
just enough to remind her that she was empty there. She was empty and had been
filled to overflowing with the thick plug of his cock.
She
could leave, but she wanted more.
Gloria
got to her feet, gripped the bottom of her T-shirt again and skinned out of it.
She had not worn panties but had a bra on. Reaching behind, she unhooked it and
shrugged her shoulders. The bra slid down her arms. She caught it and held it
for a moment, as if this was the last defense she had against doing something
really stupid.
It
might be stupid and it was certainly cheating on Abel, but for her brain
telling her not to do it, her body told her to go on. She dropped the bra in
the hallway and padded along.
"What
do you want me to do?"
"That's
up to you," came the burglar's hoarse whisper.
She glanced in and saw nothing but an empty room. When she opened the other
bedroom door, her eyes fixed on the naked man lying on a mattress in a shadow
against the far wall. He was naked save for the mask he still wore, but she
hardly noticed that little detail. What she saw was his erection jutting
upward, proud and as tall as the
"What
do you want me to do?" Gloria repeated. She took a hesitant step forward.
The man moved on the mattress, gripped his cock and held it perpendicular to
his groin. She licked her lips at the sight. The taste still lingered.
"I
don't want you to suck on my prick," he said. "I want something else."
"What?"
"Use
your imagination," he said.
A
million things ran through her mind. She and Abel had never been that
adventurous in bed. What was it she had wanted to do and never had? This thief,
this burglar, this pussy pirate wanted her to choose! She took a step toward
the mattress, not sure she should do this. Then she took a second, quicker step
and a final one that was almost at a run.
She
vaulted over him, swung her leg up and over and sat facing away from him. Her
hands braced against his knees, with her legs on either side of his body. Her
thighs pressed into his and her pussy was open and quivering just above the tip
of his cock.
"Reverse
cowgirl," he said. "Try it. Do it!"
His
voice cracked like a whip. She moved her hips around until she positioned
herself directly over him. She moaned softly when she felt his hands begin to
explore the half moons of her ass cheeks. Then she let out a cry of surprise
and pleasure. He thrust his finger up her anus. With slow, deliberate moves, he
began finger fucking her ass.
"Do
it," he said. "Go on. You know you want to do it."
"Oh,
yes," she said. The movement deep within her was strangely arousing. She
had never let a man do this before. And now she was giving herself to a
complete stranger. She lowered herself slowly, revelling
in the feel of the finger moving in and out of her back. Then even this delight
became small. The thick head of his cock pressed into her pussy lips. Her
juices leaked out all around, oiling him for the plunge inward. She quivered.
Every muscle in her body was tensed. Then she simply relaxed.
He
rushed into her. She gasped out incoherently as desire flooded her. Everything
was coming together inside her in a huge heated pool of pure lust. His finger,
the way his cock bucked about in the tightness of her pussy, the feel of his knees
as she bent forward. Then his other hand began kneading her ass.
"Move,"
he said. "Get to fucking. Pleasure yourself first and you'll give me all I
can take."
She
floated in a soft, muzzy world that increasingly burned at the edges. She
twisted from side to side, screwing the burning hot prick into herself.
Gradually lowering her hips sent that delicious, delightful cock straight up at
an angle that excited her. This was so different from how she and Abel usually
fucked. Missionary position. No variation. Wham, bam, not even much of a thank you ma'am. It had become
so ordinary--when they had bothered.
Gloria
began rising and falling faster, turning from side to side. She felt the thick
cock within her tightness stroking over every square inch of her pussy walls.
The heat mounted from friction between her sensitive flesh and the burglar's
prick.
Leaning
forward let his cock stroke across her G-spot. Twisting
around caused new and unusual sparks to ignite within her. And the way
his finger drove in and out of her from behind added to the thrill. Gloria
became a raw nerve ending, trembling and twitching and ready to turn to liquid
fire.
Her
face flushed, and the heated blood slowly worked its way down to the tops of
her breasts. She felt the fever. How she needed this release. It was wrong and
in that might have been some of the excitement she got. The thief might have
broken into this house, but there was more. He might be a thief of hearts. He
might be stealing away her love.
Even
as she thought that, she knew it wasn't possibly true. She loved her husband.
Abel was a good man. But he could never fuck like this.
She
let out a cry of pure animal lust when the man's cock entered her at an
entirely unexpected angle. Nerves deep in her pussy she did not even know
existed all cried out for more stimulation. Her hips went wild as she fucked
herself harder and faster.
Her
cum was so intense she fell forward, letting his cock slide from her well-oiled
slit.
His
hands worked over her rear, slipped between her legs and stroked over her back.
Then his hands circled her waist and he lifted her bodily, depositing her on
the mattress. With a quick move, he slid from under her and went to the door.
Gloria
blinked as she watched his naked butt. So tight. He
paused at the door and pulled off the ski mask. Gloria caught her breath. He
had a shaved head. She had joked with Abel about that, but she realized now it
had been less joking and more wistfulness. The man's head gleamed in the light
and was utterly sexy. He wiped his face with the balled up ski mask, then put
it back on before he turned back toward her.
"Is
that all?" he asked.
"What
do you mean? That was fabulous."
"Then
you don't want any more. I'm disappointed."
He
swung through the door. She heard his feet splatting
against the hallway floor and then a distant rush of water. Gloria sat up and
rubbed her bush. Her finger circled about and slipped into her pussy. How often
had she played a solitaire hand these past few months? Too
many for her peace of mind. The feel of a man under her, touching her,
fucking her again was not something she could pass up easily.
"Wait!"
Gloria got to her feet. She thought she could leave--she should leave. None of
this was right.
Like
hell it wasn't right! It was exactly what she needed to keep from going stir
crazy. If Abel wasn't going to deliver what she needed, she would take what
fucking she could with this burglar.
She
dashed to the bedroom door and looked out. Steam billowed from the opened
bathroom door. She heard a powerful motor start and knew he had turned on the
Jacuzzi.
Her
imagination ran wild. She loved Jacuzzis. It had always been her most secret
fantasy to fuck in one.
Boldly,
she went down the hall and stared into the steamy bathroom. Clouds of cloaking
steam rose from the Jacuzzi. The tub motor purred and churned up bubbles. She
almost laughed at the sight of the burglar, still wearing his ski mask, sitting
in the tub. He faced away from her, but she saw him reflected in the
misted-over antiqued mirror behind the Jacuzzi.
"So
you decided to join me? Are you just going to stand there?"
"What
do you want from me?"
"To
fuck you," he said in his husky whisper. "I want to fuck you in this
tub." He reached over and turned the jets to maximum.
"I
never knew this house had so many amenities," Gloria said as she crossed
the cold tile floor. The feel under her feet contrasted with the damp heat
coming from the tub. But the real heat came from anticipating what the man in
the tub would do.
"It
has everything you want," he said.
"I
just want you," she said. "Rather, I want your cock." She
stepped over the rim of the tub and straddled his face. His tongue shot out
from the mouth hole of his ski mask and lightly brushed across her pussy lips.
She trembled.
"You
taste good," he said. Then he got down to serious tonguing. His tongue
slipped and slid the length of her slit, then dipped into her pussy for just a
moment. She slowly sank, all strength gone from her legs. His hands guided her
so she knelt across his lap.
Gloria
shut her eyes and let him move her where he wanted. It was so good being in his
strong hands. The jets of water shot past his legs and brushed her sensitive
pussy lips, feeling like champagne bubbles but twice as intoxicating.
He
kept pushing her downward until her knees were pressed on the outsides of his
hips and her crotch lowered over his. She was spread wide and trembled when she
felt the lightest touch of his erection against her sensitive flesh. Then under
his urging she sank down more and took him fully into her.
Gloria
shuddered and clung fiercely to him. The ski mask rubbed against her cheek. She
wanted to kiss him and to stroke over his shaved head. But so much was
colliding within her body that she was hard-pressed to keep a thought in her
head.
Then
it didn't matter anymore. The feelings within her mounted with incredible
swiftness. The man's cock fucking her in the midst of the churning bubbles
stroking all over her legs and hips and waist set her off. She had a volcanic
orgasm that ripped a cry of pure animal release from her lips.
He
clung fiercely to her as she thrashed about. Then she half rose, and sat on the
far side of the Jacuzzi. Gloria knew the small contented smile on her lips was
wrong. She should never have done this. She had cheated, and it wasn't right.
But
it had been what she longed for. Abel had denied her sex like this for too
long.
She
opened her eyes thinking she would see her naked masked thief. But through the
steam she saw . . . nothing. Gloria splashed about in consternation, then hastily got out of the tub. A huge fluffy pink towel
lay folded on the wash stand. Resting on it was a single bright red rose. She
picked it up by its long stem and inhaled. Pure sensual
delight.
Then
she saw the simple words written in condensation on the mirror.
THANK
YOU.
She
brushed the soft petals across her cheek, her breasts, then lower and smiled.
"No,"
she said softly to her vanished burglar. "Thank you."
Gloria
almost panicked then. Abel would be home any time now. She raced to the hallway
and found her gardening clothes. They were rough against her sensitized skin,
but she got into the jeans and pulled on the T-shirt. She didn't bother with
her bra. The soft cotton shirt clung to her still-damp breasts, outlining her
still-hard nipples. She pulled on her shoes and ran to the back door, then
stopped. She returned to the bathroom and picked up the red rose. It was
foolish of her to keep it, but she did.
She
left through the back door and returned to her own yard, the rose clutched in
her hand. Barely had she gone into her own house than she heard the front door
open.
"Honey,
I'm home," called Abel.
"Uh,
hi," Gloria answered. She started to hide the rose, then
decided against it. She went into the living room. Abel looked different. He
still wore his old baseball cap, but there was--
"Your
hair," she said.
"I
decided on some changes to improve things," he said. He took off his cap.
He had shaved his head. "Starting today. This very afternoon."
"Well,
I certainly like it," she said, her eyes glowing as she remembered her
thief.
"I
hope you like these, too," he said. He handed her a bouquet of roses.
"Why,
Abel, thank you. What's the occasion? I--" She stared at him, as if for
the first time. Realization began to dawn on her.
"I've
been working out at the gym for the past few months. Now, give me that rose."
He took the single rose from her and added it to the bouquet. "One plus
eleven equals a full dozen."
"You
brought me eleven roses?"
He
smiled and shook his head.
"I
gave you twelve."
Gloria
was speechless. Because he kissed her hard on the lips.
The
End
About
the Author
Born
in the middle of winter in Michigan more (how many more I'm not saying) than 30
years ago, I was lacking a name until my father saw the aurora borealis and
decided this was a sign, the right name. (I'm so glad my mother insisted on "Aurora"
and not "Borealis!") In spite of my name, I have never seen the
aurora (but my younger sister in