Sweet Confessions Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  SMELL AS SWEET

  BAD INFLUENCES

  INTERNET CAFÉ AU LAY

  SILVER SCREEN

  THE CONTENDER

  SACRED PLACES

  COUNTERPANE

  WAISTED

  UNDERPANTS

  RED

  THE HOTEL

  UNDERWEAR

  ALL SHAVED UP

  NEW DAY, NEW LI FE

  AN AGE PLAY

  ARE YOU SURE?

  JENNA’S GAMBIT

  THE FEMALE GAZE

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  ABOUT THE EDITOR

  Copyright Page

  INTRODUCTION: EROTIC EXPOSURE AND THE THRILL OF THE CHASE

  To have sex, one of you is going to have to be the one to say, “I want to.” As much as we’d sometimes like to avoid that scary moment, it is inevitable. If we want to get to the good stuff, we have to be vulnerable, even just for a second.

  It is a risk whose rewards far outshine the possibility of an unwanted outcome. When you’re with someone who makes you feel that crackle of electricity, that lust that gets under your skin and sinks to the meeting point of your most vital parts and stays there—when you’re with that person you know you can ask for maybe just a bit more. You feel it. It’s a circuit of arousal and erotic inspiration that flows when you make contact: skin contact, eye contact, heart contact.

  It turns “I want to” on its head. It means you might be able to ask for something you really want, something you never got to ask for before. New fantasies come with hot sex, heartfelt love and true lust. But confessing a fantasy is a moment in time that must be savored: you must devour it like a cool, sweet fruit on a hot summer day.

  The couples in this collection are so well crafted, they feel as real as someone you might know—but they are so very sexy, they’re more like the people you see one place or another that you want to know. I worked with talented and well-known writers to make sure of it. I wanted no dark scenarios, but real, vibrant and layered erotic stories featuring complex, surprising and believable characters—people whose confessions would feel like your own.

  The stories are outrageously sexy—and they break the mold in literary excellence. Explicit sex is folded into sexual fantasies for couples in a way that puts you right there in the action and makes you want to come back for more. I was astounded at the emotional honesty, the talent, and the jaw-dropping sexual scenarios in theses stories.

  I hope they inspire you to fess up.

  The heroine in Heidi Champa’s “Smell As Sweet” turns classic office life into a riveting scene. An accidental discovery reveals a woman’s handsome coworker has a weakness for women’s panties, and she leverages his confession into an endless supply of expensive lingerie, ravishment atop desks and a woman who knows how to make a strong man confess. There are the best kind of “Bad Influences” in Devyn Christopher’s luxurious hot tub encounter, where the members of a loving couple confess to wanting a woman who can strap it on, and a man who loves to be sexually owned. Turnabout happens in Kayar Silkenvoice’s “Internet Café au Lay,” in which a rugged, ever-hard boyfriend gives in to his girl’s desire for semipublic sex, with an urgent encounter that left this editor breathless.

  Sexual confession can be a wicked game. “Silver Screen,” by Portia Da Costa, is so delicately crafted, you’re put in the female protagonist’s unusual and uncomfortable situation—a woman in an X-rated theater—and we don’t find out until the twists and turns complete whose confession made the filthy anonymous hands jobs impossibly possible. A young woman from East London combines her sexual confession to a boxing instructor with the vulnerability of love’s first heated sexual consummation, but not before a bare-knuckle takedown that will leave scenes from “The Contender,” by Jacqueline Applebee, ringing in your head and other parts long after the story is finished.

  When we think of confessions, we tend to think of places of worship; Sophie Mouette’s “Sacred Places” puts an incredulous Catholic girl into a Welsh monastery where her boyfriend wrenches profane confessions and orgasms out of her in equal measure. Unforgettable, “Counterpane,” by Alison Tyler, brings us into the world of a drop-dead sexy man who whisks his lover out of the office for her lunch break, where they greedily devour lust by the spoonful in her confession-made-reality of doubletime in a hotel room with two hot men.

  “Waisted,” by Angela Caperton, is a Cinderella story of corset fetish sex; a lush female point of view festoons this tale of male control in which a woman is restrictively dressed and then driven in a black limousine, and finally plundered by her lover’s generous anatomy deliriously and desperately on a plush carpet while bound in expensive tight laces and brocade. On the flipside of female desire and fetish, “Underpants,” by K. D. Grace, shocks and surprises when a man dresses his lady for sexual ravishment, but she’s taken aback at the bizarre knickers he makes her wear out to dinner for a cat-and-mouse game of turn-on and arousal that surprises everyone.

  “Red,” by Piper Morgan, begins with a confessed fantasy that seems mundane but grows into deftly revealed outrageousness and gripping erotic tension as the desire to experience a real-life erotic fairy tale morphs like a wolf under a full moon into a deliciously depraved sex game in the woods. Often the couple’s shared fantasy is to fuck a stranger: “The Hotel,” by Anika Ray, is an ultrarealistic playing out of that scenario between an aggressively nervous couple—with a surprising and very hot ending, proving that sometimes it’s better when things don’t go as planned.

  Lingerie and admission of sexual fantasy go together like satin and lace; the saleswoman in “Underwear,” by Kay Jaybee, gets more than she expected doing a home delivery of items for a man who’s so sexually forward she doesn’t believe he actually has a girlfriend to buy underwear for. That is, until the two women meet and turn panty sales into a game of sexual oneup (wo)manship. In “All Shaved Up,” by Liv Olson, a playful yet shy woman admits she likes shaving; her naughty boyfriend admits it too, as they take turns daring each other to smooth down and go further.

  “New Day, New Life,” by Andrea Dale, drops us into Prague, where a woman is celebrating a renewed outlook on life with her loving man; an outlook that includes admitting her desire to try sex with another woman—a gorgeous Eastern European woman, in a threesome as explicit as it is loving. An American erotic romance writer goes to the United Kingdom for research and winds up in “An Age Play” of her own in Regina Kammer’s hot story of an older woman, a young man’s first lessons in oral sex, and a very understanding husband.

  When erotic confessions come true they are inevitably accompanied by uncertainty; Alexander Liboiron’s “Are You Sure?” exquisitely explores a woman’s confessed need to be roughed up during sex—but the taboo that makes both of them blush and their hearts race is the reason she wants it.

  Jenna wanted it; only because Eric loves and accepts her completely can she go through with it. “Jenna’s Gambit,” by Jeremy Edwards, plays on a girl’s fear of being caught relieving herself in public, twisted into a heightened erotic experience by a man who loves her, understands the eroticism of humiliation, and knows how far a couple can go when they feel safe to do the nastiest thing one of them can imagine.

  “The Female Gaze,” by Rachel Kramer Bussel, is a show-stopper of sexual confession and romantic lust and risk, gorgeously playing out one of the most popular emergent taboo fantasies of our generation. In it, a girl’s boyfriend is ogled by women and men in equal measure, but it’s what the boys want to do to him that gets her head spinning and her pussy thrumming. Realizing her secret fantasy is the same filthy scenario, she cruises a gay bar for them both—with a resulting sexual encounter that is as satisfying as
it is surprising and unforgettable.

  This book is a collection of confessions and fantasies so realistic that you could, in fact, try these at home. But whether you enjoy these privately, get a little bit of inspiration or share them with someone special, I hope you will take hold of your fantasies and promise to try a sweet confession—at least once in your life.

  Release your desires to the one you love, and give chase. I promise you won’t regret it.

  Violet Blue

  San Francisco

  SMELL AS SWEET

  Heidi Champa

  I sat down at my desk, the ease of the weekend long gone as another week loomed large in front of me. The work I had left behind was still waiting for me, but so was another gift from Jamie. I got up and closed my door, wanting privacy for reading his instructions. The panties inside the envelope were pink lace and silk La Perla, cut low on the hips. The note that sat on top held just a few words. I read it quickly before doing anything else.

  Hope you like the Wild Orchid panties as much as I do. Wear them all day and come to my office at five.

  The quivering jolt of naughtiness went all through me as I slid off my own panties and slipped on the ones he wanted me to wear. I paused briefly to let the silky softness rub over my legs, before settling them into place over my moistening cunt. It was going to be another long day at the office, but things were certainly looking up. This was the first time Jamie wanted me to come to his office and not just to leave the panties and go. I was intrigued and couldn’t wait to find out what new adventure Jamie had planned for me. Our strange arrangement started accidentally, but had quickly become a regular routine. A late night at the office a few months ago had started the whole thing.

  That night, the offices were quiet, but the stack of papers in front of me didn’t seem to be getting any smaller. I kept glancing at the clock: the time was moving quickly, but the work was going at a snail’s pace. It was already way too late to meet the girls for the dinner we had planned; they would soon be off barhopping and making merry. All I had to show for my evening was paperwork—useless forms and reports—and a looming deadline for first thing Monday morning.

  As I slogged through, there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. I closed the last file folder and let out a sigh of relief. The joy proved short lived when I looked at the clock and realized it was near midnight. I thought if I hurried, I could meet the girls at the last bar of the night and have a quick martini to reward my hard work. Grabbing a stack of folders to drop by Jamie’s office, I whipped out my phone and started texting Charlotte to find out where the action was. Too busy clicking letters with my thumbs, I nearly walked into Jamie’s office door, which was open, just a crack. I saw a dim light and heard weird noises coming from inside.

  Getting even closer for a better look, I saw Jamie in his chair, his cock in his hand. I froze, my fingers stopping midtext as I opened my eyes wider at what I saw next. There was a pair of black panties over his nose and mouth, the crotch pressed right against his skin. His dark hair was covering his forehead; his eyes were pinched shut. He inhaled deeply and loudly, twice, before he came, white come spilling onto his fist and the floor. I hurried away before he could see me, taking the elevator down with my heart still pounding.

  I got into my car and raced to the pub, unable to shake the image of Jamie with the panties on his face. He had seemed in seventh heaven when I saw him sniffing the lace-covered crotch. Shaking my head, I crinkled my face in disgust. Fetishes rarely surprised me, but this was one predilection I’d never heard of. At first, I was dying to let the girls know what I had found, but as I downed my perfectly chilled vodka concoction I thought better of it. I just wanted to forget the whole thing and enjoy my weekend.

  The problem was, I couldn’t forget it. No matter what I did, the visual of Jamie kept coming back. I went over every detail in my mind, from the sound of his cries to the thickness of his cock. I struggled to understand what it was about the panties that he liked so much. I had always assumed that most men weren’t all that fond of the way a woman smelled. Lord knows there were enough feminine hygiene products on the market to tell us so. But he seemed so lost in it, so enthralled by what he was doing. I thought all men jerked off to porn or at the very least a picture of someone naked. The pure pleasure he got from those simple little panties seemed to trump any naked woman for him. Could smell really be that powerful, that erotic? I had honestly never thought about it before. Now, I couldn’t stop.

  I lay in bed Sunday night, my mind again consumed with Jamie and his desires. I wondered whose the panties were; who would go along with such a thing? No doubt they came from the Internet, some stranger trying to make a buck. I then wondered what he would think of my scent, if the smell of my pussy would turn him on as much as the black lace panties did. Without thinking, I reached down and pulled off my own panties, bringing them up to my face. Inhaling my own scent, I wasn’t disgusted at all, but I wasn’t turned on either. It wasn’t as if it was the first time I had smelled myself, but now I tried to imagine what Jamie was thinking as he did the same thing. The thought of him and those panties, how hot they made him: now that turned me on. I wanted to be the one with the power, the one whose essence filled his nostrils as he came. Monday morning couldn’t arrive fast enough for me.

  I got to work early, clutching the small bag in my hand. Making a quick detour to Jamie’s office, I dropped my present on his chair and got out quickly. I didn’t leave a note, just the panties. If he didn’t freak out and run to HR, I would approach him after work and reveal the truth. The charge running through me was palpable; my body was alive with anticipation and fear. I tried to work, but I kept my eyes out for Jamie’s arrival. As much as I wanted to stake out his office and see his reaction, I knew I couldn’t. I took a few deep breaths and picked up a folder.

  The afternoon wore on, and I saw Jamie several times walking the halls, looking the same as always. I don’t know what I was hoping would happen, but I knew by now he would have found the panties. Would he wait until he got home to sample them, or would he use his office again for some after-hours fun? The hours went by slowly, but finally the end of the day arrived and I waited for the herds to leave Jamie and me alone. He didn’t get onto the elevator, so I knew he was still in the building. I was trembling as I walked to his office, still not knowing what I was hoping to find. When I arrived at his door, his eyes were looking down, and the panties sat on his desk, still in the plastic bag. I gave a small knock and entered; his eyes met mine, a blush rising in his cheeks. Glancing at my panties, I sank into the chair and waited.

  “You want to explain this, Liz?”

  “Explain what, Jamie?”

  He slid back in his chair and regarded me with distrust. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked defensive. God, he still looked so cute, though. His dark eyes pierced right through me as he watched me, trying to figure me out.

  “Well, I came in this morning and found these on my chair. I also happen to know that you were here late on Friday, just like me. It had to be you who left these. Now, if you saw something and are trying to be cute, I’m not amused.”

  I tried to be cool, but I knew my face was giving me away. I didn’t speak at first, trying to compose myself. But he pressed me, not letting me off the hook.

  “Admit it, Liz. You were spying on me. You saw me on Friday. And now you’re trying to mess with me.”

  “Okay, fine. I saw you. But I’m not messing with you, at least not in the way you think.”

  “So, what? You thought this would be funny? It’s not funny, Liz.”

  “It’s not supposed to be a joke.”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  I sighed, not wanting to tell him the truth. But I didn’t have any alternative.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about it all weekend. Watching you with the panties, well, I was intrigued. I wanted to see if mine would have the same effect on you as the pair you had on Friday.”

&n
bsp; Now it was my turn to blush. He didn’t speak, just ran his finger along the edge of the plastic bag containing my lavender panties. I watched him move to open the bag, but his ringing phone stopped him cold.

  “I’ve got to take that, Liz. Maybe we can finish this conversation tomorrow.”

  He left me no choice but to nod and leave his office, unsatisfied with his response to my boldness. I was hoping for something more, but I was left with the horrible feeling that I had ruined a relationship with a coworker for nothing.

  When I arrived at work the next day, I expected Jamie to avoid me completely. I didn’t see him as I got off the elevator and when I walked by his office, it was empty and dark. I went to my office and closed the door, slumping into my chair with defeat. But I jumped up immediately when I felt something under my butt. I was stunned by what I saw: a small paper bag. When I opened it, I saw them. Red and tiny, the panties were not what I usually wore and appeared too brief to cover much of anything. There was also a note in the bag, and I opened it with trembling fingers. In simple script, it had a profound message.

  You smell amazing. Wear these for me today and leave them in my office at five.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. The words on the page sent a shot of fresh moisture to my pussy. It was exactly the response I had wanted from Jamie. Now that the moment had come, all my apprehension was overtaken by desire. I slid my own panties down from under my skirt and stepped out of them. The red panties were definitely not my style, but if it was what Jamie wanted, I was willing to oblige him.

  As I put them on, my body registered the tiny slip of fabric between my legs. Without any other stimulation, my pussy continued to get wetter throughout the day. The idea of handing over the flimsy thong to Jamie at the end of the day, and of him pleasuring himself to my scent, consumed my mind during every task I performed that day. I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary; in fact, to the naked eye my day was as boring as any other. But inside my head, the flow of desire built all day long. As I sat at my desk, waiting for the hand on the clock to slide to five, my panties were damn near soaked through. In a few short minutes, I would leave the panties for Jamie in a plastic bag, waiting for him to unseal and take a whiff. What at first had seemed so strange to me now seemed only hot and forbidden.