Smut in the City (Absolute Erotica) (3 page)

Opera glasses!

I put them up to my eyes and began scanning the arena for a flash of yellow dress, schoolgirl hat, and strawberry blond hair.

It was going to take a long time to comb through twenty thousand people looking for one person in particular, but what else did I have to do? It was still quite a while until the beginning of the opera, and I had memory of Samantha to keep my hopes up.

“Can you see anything?” Darlene asked.

“Folks. Lots and lots of folks.”

“Let me see.”

“In a little bit,” I said and didn’t stop scanning the area where I thought Samantha had ended up.

“Hey, they’re my opera glasses!”

“Did you bring two pairs?” I responded.

“No silly. Why would I do that?”

“Well I might like to see the stage too.”

“You don’t like opera, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” I said still scanning.

“So, gimme,” she demanded and tried to get the little binoculars away from me. I wasn’t having any of that, though, since I had just caught a flash of yellow that might have been the flash I was seeking.

“I’ll let you have ‘em when the show starts. Where is the guy with the cushions? You seen him?”

“You can rent opera glasses too,” she said, a little peeved at me.

“Really? So rent some then.”

“But I have some. These!” She snatched the glasses out of my hand.

“Hey!”

“Rent yourself some,” she said and stuck the glasses against her eyes. “Oh look, there’s that English girl that was ahead of us outside.”

“What? Where?” I tried to snatch the glasses back, but Darlene pulled away.

“Get your own,” she said. “What is the matter with you anyway?”

“Crazy with the heat,” I snapped, looking around for a guy to rent binoculars from. There was one a dozen yards down from us and I popped to my feet and started waving and hollering like I was on fire to get his attention.

When I got the glasses, cheap plastic ones not nearly as good as Darlene’s, I said, “Where is she, Darlene?”

“Who?”

“What do you mean who? Samantha. The English girl.”

“Oh. She’s over there.” She waved vaguely toward the other side of the stadium.

“Gee, thanks,” I started scanning again and by plain damn luck my first sweep caught a flash of yellow. I backed up and scanned the same strip more slowly. Sure enough, it wasn’t just my fevered imagination. There she was, sitting like a vision amid the mob, and she was looking through rented opera glasses right at me. I knew she was looking at me because when she saw my glasses pointed at her she lowered hers and waved. She was smiling the same wicked smile she had favoured me with when she came out of the toilet.

Opera at the Verona Arena has a tradition that maybe all out door opera performances have, I don’t know, but when the orchestra begins its final tune up before the overture everybody gets out candles and lights them up. There are even vendors in the arena who sell candles, some just a little bigger than birthday candles, and some much bigger, like dinner table candles. Darlene bought a couple of the little ones and when the orchestra stopped making noise and started making music we lit them up.

I had been looking every few minutes just to make sure that Samantha was still there and hadn’t moved, or evaporated. It was getting harder and harder to see though, since dusk was thickening toward night. Now I lifted my plastic binoculars again and saw that Samantha had bought a couple of candles too, but not the little ones. She had both of them blazing away now and I noticed that she had lifted the hem of her dress up and laid it upon her knees. Still very prim, but now from the knees down her legs were exposed. That made my mind tick over like a Swiss watch. She was a couple of rows higher than we were so that my eye level was at her knees and my fevered imagination went romping across that distance to peek between them.

But of course that wasn’t going to happen. I gave myself hell for even thinking about it, because the thought was torture, so I shoved it out of my mind and tried to concentrate on the music.

The dusk had thickened to true darkness by the time the arena lights faded at the end of the overture. The crowd disappeared in the dark except for the little candles still burning here and there. Most of the little ones like Darlene had bought were burned out, but those bigger ones were still flickering.

Stage lights came up and the attention of almost everyone in the stadium went there. Mine did not. I put my plastic binoculars to my eyes and looked toward Samantha, and almost dropped them. Samantha had pulled her dress hem half way up her thighs and parted her knees about a foot. The light from her still burning candles illuminated what would have been a dark tunnel beneath her dress and between her thighs. The light colour of her dress and the silky reflective paleness of her flesh made it so that I could see her feminine cleft through its light fuzz of pubic curls.

I lifted my glasses a little and could barely see her face in the left over light of the candles. Beneath her round little hat I could see her opera glasses aimed at me, and beneath them I could see her smiling lips.

I lowered my glasses and willed them to be better than they were. It looked as though the pubic curls along the inside edge of her pussy lips were darker than those more toward the top of her mons. Damp maybe? I thought and cursed those cheap binoculars.

Without even thinking about it I reached out and grabbed Darlene’s glasses right away from her eyes.

“Hey,” she protested drawing several dirty looks from people around us.

“Please Darlene. Please. Here take these, but let me use yours. Please. If you love your brother even a little you’ll do this for me.”

She looked at me with a sort of odd, worried look, but she took my binoculars and let me have hers.

I clapped her much better glasses to my eyes and turned them to Samantha’s lusciously exposed Delta of Venus.

“The show is down that way,” Darlene whispered and tugged at my elbow.

“You only think so,” I answered and increased my concentration so much that if Darlene said anything else I totally blocked it out.

Samantha looked from side to side to make sure no one was taking notice of what she was doing. Eyes all around her were riveted to the stage. No one except me paid any attention to that most delicious view and, seeing that, she opened her knees a little farther and scooted her bottom forward on her rented cushion. That caused her pelvis to tilt up a little and the outer lips to spread perhaps the width of a finger. Within that cleft it was almost as I had envisioned; the inner lips were clearly visible and they might have been the coral pink my imagination had coloured them, but the flickering yellow light of the candle flame made it hard to tell. It didn’t matter. They looked delicate and fragile as satin ribbon, folded back slightly from her opening. If I could run my tongue along them, I thought, they would swell so much they would push out past the outside lips and make that orchid open up to me so that I could taste the nectar deep inside it.

At the top, just below where those petals of her womanhood came together the nubbin of her clitoris protruded. It was swollen and upright and begging for someone to stroke it and roll it gently back and forth.

Again Samantha looked from side to side and, still finding no eyes on her but mine, she brought her delicate, long fingered left hand down and, shielding it with her right forearm, she stroked her index finger from the bottom of her pussy up between the inner lips to her wantonly engorged, achingly beautiful pearl . A visible shudder ran through her as she stroked that centre of her desire, and I could feel the quivering of her thighs against my hands though we were fifty yards apart. The first breeze of that sweltering day rose and washed down into the arena like a cooling tide. Twenty thousand voices moaned audible sighs of relief. One voice raised a moan of agony. Mine. That blessed, cursed breeze had blown out the candles!

The rest of the evening was agony. Samantha did not light her candles again, nor did she raise her binoculars to look in my direction. I looked toward her almost to the total exclusion of Carmen. While the stage was alight I could only see a vague ghost of her yellow dress through the darkness. During the inter-act breaks I drank her in like she was cold water to my parched throat, but she never looked at me.

When the show was over Darlene and I crushed and elbowed our way down and out of the arena. I tried to find Samantha in the mob, but it was impossible. She was gone forever, and that broke my heart.

Later, when I tried to sleep I found it impossible so I went out to roam the streets. In the wee hours of the morning I consoled myself with the thought that, though Samantha was gone, I would always have the memory of Verona.

Lights Out

By M.A. Stacie

Working so late always pissed Caitlin off. It meant eerily dark streets, a cold, empty carriage on the Tube and a bowl of cereal for dinner before climbing into bed. It also meant another night with little sleep before the working day started all over again.

Life had to be more exciting than this.

There wasn’t even the prospect of a wild weekend - she would be in the office. Her current workload had tripled since transferring to a new law firm. They had scooped a rather famous client and his high profile divorce. Not only was Caitlin responsible for most of the admin on that particular case, but she also had her new client list to deal with too. Add to that the pressure of a meeting with one of the partners tomorrow and she was ready to scream. She hadn’t met either of them yet and was petrified as to why they wanted to see her now.

Sometimes she wondered why she’d chosen this career to begin with. It was nothing like it was portrayed on TV. There were no elegant parties, no amazingly handsome lawyers, and the only naughty fumbles were when she spilled milk that belonged to someone else over the staff kitchen.

It was all rather boring.

Tapping her pin number into the cash machine, Caitlin sighed heavily and waited. As her money was dispensed the first drop of rain fell. It slid down the black hair of her fringe, landing with a plop on her ten pound note.

“Great. Just fucking great,” she muttered to herself, stuffing the cash into her purse.

She hurried, the clicking of her heels echoing around the deserted street. It was too early for clubbers to be out, too late for commuters. She was getting used to this kind of isolation, though she did pass the odd person as she made her way to Knightsbridge Tube station.

The rain seeped through her thin, tan mac, wetting her shirt and causing her to shudder. The wind that blew only made her colder, and by the time she descended the steps to the platform she was cursing.

Caitlin rolled her eyes when she saw a couple of teenagers kissing. She could only hope they’d choose a different carriage, because she was in no mood to sit and watch them devour one another. It was difficult to admit, but jealousy was at the root of her revulsion. Unable to remember the last time her lips had met anything other than her lipstick was embarrassing for a woman of twenty-eight.

Flopping with a groan onto the closest bench, Caitlin tried not to think of the hot bloke in the lift this morning. She hadn’t seen him around the building before, but then Loft and Carson weren’t the only business within it. Each floor had a different company, pretty much. However, she did tend to see the same familiar faces. His would be one she’d certainly remember.

Not normally one to be attracted to men in glasses, her skin had tingled when he’d brushed against her as he entered the lift. Clearly her body hadn’t received the ‘no glasses’ memo, and by the way her nipples had been pushing against the satin of her bra, they sure as hell hadn’t either.

The announcement stating her train was entering the station snapped her out of her thoughts, and the cold draught that came through the black tunnel had her shivering. She wrapped her coat tighter around her body, mentally berating herself for not buying a larger size. Vanity had stopped her and now the one she owned barely fit across her large breasts. It confused her as to why women wanted boob jobs. Hers simply got in the way and stopped her wearing the tops she really wanted to.

The teenage couple laughed loudly at the same time the Tube rushed out of the tunnel. It came to a screeching halt, the cold air whipping around her once again. Collecting her bag from the bench, she stood, waiting for the doors to slide open. Already she could see that the train was empty, leaving her with a dilemma. Did she really want to share a carriage with two lust-filled teenagers so that she wasn’t alone?

Doubting she could sit and watch them getting more than she’d even read about in months, Caitlin allowed them to enter the train first. When they settled into their seats she continued past them into the next carriage.

The stark, overhead lights flickered and an odd grinding sound had her wincing, but it stopped moments later.

“Bloody universe is out to spook me,” she mumbled, taking a seat near a window. Tugging off her wet coat, she tried to get her now thumping heartbeat under control. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, checking the time and hoping that the train wouldn’t sit too long in the station. Not that she was getting home at any reasonable hour anyway.

She scrolled through her emails, hoping she’d cleared enough of the urgent ones from her inbox before she’d left the office. She would probably have stayed a little longer at work but the lights had begun to randomly switch off, and at one point her computer had rebooted itself. It freaked her out, so she’d left fifteen minutes later. However, walking to the Tube station showed her it wasn’t only her office that was affected. Store front displays were blacked out one moment, then brightly lit the next, streetlights blinked on and off and there was a strange humming sound that came along with all of that.

There was something weird happening in the city tonight and Caitlin didn’t like it. It was creepy.

The train lurched forward, startling her because she wasn’t paying attention. She gasped, dropping her phone onto the dirty, metal floor.

“Today just keeps getting better and better.”

Leaning down, the tips of her fingers brushed against the keypad. At the same time, the train stalled, lifting her from her seat and launching her across the carriage until she fell onto all fours in the middle of the walkway. Her knees stung, the palms of her hands burned furiously. Tears automatically filled her eyes, blurring her vision. Caitlin didn’t need to look down at her legs to know her tights were shredded, the skin probably was too, and her skirt no doubt revealed far too much now.

Lucky for her she was alone.

“Are you okay?”

Caitlin froze. The very male voice had to be imagined. There was no way it was real. She refused to believe she had been caught in such an embarrassing situation.

Maybe he couldn’t actually see her? After all the train was dark and he’d certainly not been seated anywhere obvious because she’d totally missed him.

“Excuse me, but are you all right?” the voice rumbled again, startling her, making her realise she’d been frozen on all fours for the last few moments.

Possibly flashing her knickers.

Hopefully they were a decent pair.

Mortification burning her cheeks, she turned her head slightly and met the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. They were vibrant and lush - the exact shade freshly cut grass became after a shower of rain. She could lose herself in them and never feel the need to come up for air.

“Hello?” he said, wording it like a question rather than a statement.

Caitlin blinked, feeling her skin heating further. She needed to answer him. Remaining silent and staring into his eyes would only have him thinking she was mute, or worse, intoxicated. “Hi,” was all she could croak out, embarrassment constricting her throat and making it difficult to talk.

A smile teased the corners of his mouth and small dimples appeared on his cheeks. His dark hair flopped into his eyes as he lowered his head and reached out to help her to her feet.

“You took quite a tumble.”

Caitlin nodded, lifting one hand and grimacing at the welts marring her palm. The skin stung and pinpricks of blood scattered across her thumb. She was going to have an awful lot of bruises tomorrow.

Reluctantly, she took his hand though wasn’t prepared for the zing of electricity that zipped up her arm from his touch. The hairs stood on end, a strange warmth seeping over her body. The tips of her fingers tingled but she told herself it was due to the fall. However, one glance at her rescuer told her he was feeling something similar. He shifted from one foot to the other, clearing his throat as she stood up...and got a good look at him.

It was him. The him from the lift earlier today. The him that was knicker-dropping sexy and all she could do was stare.

He raised his brows, obviously wanting more of a response. He flicked his head back so that his hair shifted from his eyes but he continued to look at her. She wondered briefly where his glasses were.

“Hmm, thanks,” Caitlin offered, noticing they were still holding hands. “I thought I was alone in here.”

A grin lit up his face, causing his eyes to sparkle and his dimples to flash. At the same time he raised a brow. “That much was very clear, though I can’t complain.”

“Why?” she asked, confused by his statement.

“The view was...very enticing,” he responded, still smiling. “I wasn’t in a rush to help you up, put it that way.”

Her eyes grew wide, shocked by his candour. However, her body began to hum with a very different reaction. She realised her heart had started to race. Her stomach flipped in excitement and her nipples pebbled, pushing at the thin lace of her bra. She could blame the cold, and the fact that the rain had seeped through her mac but it would be a lie.

Dropping her hand, he took a step back, his gaze raking slowly down her body. She felt naked, as though he could see past the satin shirt and pencil skirt. Again, she hoped she wore her good underwear today.

“I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I was rather forward there. Are you really okay? I’m Miles by the way.”

Miles. She liked it.

“Thanks for helping me.” She held out her hand for him to shake, not admitting to herself that she just wanted to touch him again. “I’m Caitlin, and I’m more than a little embarrassed.”

The train lurched, the lights flickering again and a disembodied voice came from the speakers. It announced the journey was about to start and gave details of the next stop.

“Guess you should sit down. Wouldn’t want you falling on your arse again.”

Caitlin opened her mouth, about to deny that she actually landed on her bottom but then second guessed herself and stopped. What did it matter? Arse or hands and knees the man had still seen her knickers.

Fumbling for something to say, Caitlin took the seat facing his. She smoothed down her skirt, quickly darting a glance at her shirt to make sure her nipples weren’t as prominent as she thought. A mirror would have been good too, though she settled for a covert look in the window. There were no mascara streaks down her cheeks and no panda eyes that she could tell, so encouraged, she meet Miles’ rather intense gaze.

“You work in the same building as me,” she stated.

“Is that an accusation or a question?”

“Stating a fact. I saw you in the lift this morning.”

Miles tugged at his black tie, eventually undoing it and slipping it from underneath the collar. After tucking it into the pocket of his suit jacket he released the top two buttons of his shirt, expelling a heavy sigh when he’d finished. “Yeah, I saw you too.”

Caitlin chewed on her lower lip, working out what she could say next to him. She hated small talk but didn’t want to stop the stilted conversation with him.

“But you saw more of me tonight, huh?” she offered, trying to make a joke of the situation.

Miles wiggled his brows. “I did, and you won’t get a single complaint from me.”

“Oh, please!” Caitlin rolled her eyes. “There has to be more seductive meetings than a woman flashing her knickers to you as she falls to the floor.”

“I’m sure there are,” he replied cryptically. “But then that would depend on ones view of seduction, no?”

He winked at her, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as the train began to leave Knightsbridge station. His shirt gaped, revealing a sliver of collarbone that had Caitlin squeezing her thighs together. She’d always had a thing for nibbling collarbones and his looked perfect. The male scent seemed strongest at that point, and she enjoyed nuzzling the spot, drinking in the deeply male smell. It had been eleven months since she’d had the opportunity. The sexual drought was clearly messing with her head because she was almost drooling as she looked at Miles.

“So, Caitlin, which company do you work for in The Tower?”

The sound of her name on his lips - the way he pronounced it, made her thighs clench that little bit more. Sparks of erotic arousal shot across her abdomen, tightening her muscles. All from the sound of her name. It was ridiculous really, at least she thought so.

Stammering, she finally found her voice. “Erm, Loft and Carson on the fourth floor. You?”

Nodding, Miles took a moment before answering. “What if I said I was only at your office today to get the aid of Loft and Carson?”

“Were you?”

“Maybe.”

Caitlin sighed, crossing one leg over the other. Her skirt rode up a little, showing him an eyeful of creamy thigh. She felt like living dangerously and didn’t bother to cover herself up. He was incredibly attractive, and damn, she was extremely turned on by him.

“Do you enjoy playing cat and mouse?”

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean,” he answered, though his smirk gave him away. The man knew exactly what he was doing. “We’ve just met, so I’m not about to volunteer my life story to you. Am I?”

“I’m not asking for full disclosure.” She skimmed her hand along her thigh, watching his eyes follow the exact same path. “I merely wanted to know where you worked, or what you were doing in The Tower today. I haven’t seen you there before.”

“And you know that how?”

The lights dimmed slightly, the strange whirring noise returning for a moment. Caitlin looked up at the lamps, wondering what was going on in the city tonight. There was a strange atmosphere, an odd electricity. Maybe that was why she was being so forward with this man? It was either that or total sexual deprivation.

“I would have noticed you before. Trust me,” Caitlin replied honestly.

Miles appreciated the truth, she could tell by the way his eyes lit up at her response.

“Really?” he questioned, licking his lower lip.

Good Lord, she wanted to lap at that flesh too, trace the plump swell before slowly dipping her tongue into his mouth. His kiss would bring her to her knees, she could tell.