This collection contains the following erotic stories:
It’s December, but Lisa isn’t feeling the holiday cheer. After getting fired unfairly from her job, all she wants to do is binge on ice cream and bad TV—and crawl into her husband’s loving arms. But he’s been called away on a business trip and can’t give her what she needs. When left to her own devices, will Lisa find some Christmas cheer on her own? Warning: Secret Santa (17,900 words) contains early morning aural, locker room exhibitionism, and hot chocolate seduction. As the sun started sinking down the sky, I began to wonder how the night was going to end. How did he want it to end? How did I? I tried not to think about it; I just wanted to concentrate on the gorgeous view from my apartment. I loved watching the sun go down, or the sun come up, over the skyline. Chris couldn't help but notice it too. He pointed toward the large floor-to-ceiling windows in the middle of my living room, looking amazed. "Wow, you have an incredible view here. I would never want to leave the house if I lived here. I would just park my ass in front of the window all day and watch the city." I nodded in agreement. "It is pretty awesome. You want to get a closer look?" I jumped to my feet and headed to the window. During that time of day, the sun looked like it was disappearing into one of the buildings, which always amused me. Then the darkness started to settle in. I could stand in front of that window for hours and having Chris there definitely made the experience better. He stood close behind me...very close. I could feel his breath warming up the back of my neck, which made me close my eyes and fantasize about what could happen, might happen, shouldn't happen, if I gave in to the way he made me tingle inside. Second by second, I felt Chris inching closer to me, until he was firmly pressed up against my back. I could actually feel his chest rise and fall and my breathing started to mirror his after a while. We stood there silently, watching the sun go down, the planes go by, the little ants on the ground rushing home from work. It was so busy outside, but in my apartment, time with Chris stood still. But the silence wasn't awkward this time. It felt good. Too good. "Lisa, the view in here is absolutely gorgeous," he said directly into my ear. I couldn't deny how much I wanted him. If he made the first move, I would be sure to follow him...anywhere. "I know! I love looking down at the city like this. It's so relaxing." "That's not the view I'm talking about," Chris said, moving his mouth downward until his lips were pressed softly against the side of my neck. Every inch of my body responded, but I couldn't let it show. |
Francis loves everything about Christmas in New York—the snow, the beautifully adorned trees, the cheery disposition that covers the city like a warm, cozy blanket. But it’s her annual holiday hook ups that she always looks forward to the most. Just when Francis thinks that her ho, ho, hot holidays can’t get any better, she has an encounter with a mysterious stranger in a department store that takes her Christmas ritual to a whole new level. Warning: Christmas Wood (7,000 words) contains hand action served up with apple pie, quickie sex in a sink, and an out-of-this-world morning after revelation. I timidly turned the knob of the bathroom door to find out if Brian had locked it. My heart pounded and a smile crept onto my face when I discovered that he hadn't. I peeked through the crack of the slightly-opened door to find Brian standing in front of the sink, pants and underwear around his ankles, stroking his huge, throbbing hard on. "Brian," I whispered. "Do you need some help with that?" "Francis, get in here," he whispered back. I tiptoed into the bathroom and slowly closed the door so my parents wouldn't hear it. "What the hell took you so long?" he asked me. "Your parents are going to think I have some serious gastrointestinal problems, I've been in here so long!” "I thought you might be actually using the bathroom," I said, still whispering. I hoped that Mom and Dad were too engrossed in the movie—even though they had seen it a million times—to notice how long we were gone. I locked the door just in case. "Don’t worry, this won’t take long,” I said as I wiggled off my panties and hiked up my short, red, Christmas dress. I propped my body on the sink in front of him, and spread my legs wide for Brian to dive right in and give me some more of his special dessert. "Fuck, I wish I had accepted your father's Christmas dinner invites before," Brian whispered in my ear as he thrust his cock into my willing wetness. "I wish you had," I moaned. I put my arms around his neck and held on as he pounded my pussy against my parents' sink. I eagerly met each of Brian's thrusts, until we both exploded and collapsed into each other's arms. Although it didn't take long—the anticipation we built up under the table at dinner was more than enough foreplay for me—I did wonder if my parents would think it was weird that neither of us had gone back yet. |
Although I’ve been writing fiction since I was a teenager, I fell into writing erotica because, like many people in this space, I saw the surge of indie erotica after Fifty Shades of Grey was published. I thought I would give it a shot and the result was my first story, Supernatural Seductions.
The fact that my first toe dip into the erotica pool was a paranormal story is no coincidence: I have been both fascinated wholly and frightened witless by the otherworldly since I was dragged to see the original Amityville Horror in the movie theater as a child. Horror movies and novels became my primary go-to entertainment source for many years, and although they made for many sleepless nights, I couldn’t stay away from them.
I also can’t resist a strange story. Or a story with a twist. (I have The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents to thank for that.) I know that some of my stories can be downright weird…and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Much like life, the path I take from Point A to Point B is not always a straight line and orgasms are often part of the journey my characters take, not always merely the destination.
I see myself as a literary flesh peddler—that is, like a talent scout, I get the characters together and let them perform. They present themselves to me, tell me who they are and what they want to do, and I give them the stage to do it on. Naked, of course. Some characters are bold and brazen and tell me exactly how they want to navigate the story, while others are more quiet and reserved, causing me to give them stricter direction in their scenes. In the end, I hope this all results in a fun and sexy story that turns you on as it takes turns you may not have expected—but leaves you satisfied on multiple levels nonetheless.
When I’m not writing my quirky erotica, I’m being quirky over on Medium, where I write erotic poetry, sex and relationship tips, flash fiction, and summaries of sex research. This is a great complement to my erotic stories because it allows me to explore sex and relationships in a different way—and hopefully help readers laugh, learn, think, get horny, and find information they can use in their own relationships and sex lives.
I love this strange little corner that I’ve created for myself and whether you read my fiction or my work on Medium, I hope you enjoy it too. I am tremendously thankful for each and every one of my readers because you are giving me your most valuable asset—your time. You could be doing anything in the world right now, but instead you’re spending this moment with me, and for that, I appreciate you.
With gratitude and mind-blowing orgasms,
Kiki Wellington
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