Of The Honesty Found In Tequila

Today's preview - the last I'll be doing for this week - is from another modern short story (currently at 12,000 words and I still need a last act for it). This one is called "The Wicked Stepmother", and it deals with a crisis point in the life of a woman in her early 40s, after her life has started to go somewhat off the rails. The extract tonight details her first encounter with another woman - a drunken tumble with a friend from her book group, which our heroine finds hard to resist...

from The Wicked Stepmother

an erotic short story by Zoe Melville

Oh, God ... what am I doing? Jenny’s lips are on top of my own, each of us breathing the other’s air. Her mouth tastes of tequila. I can feel her hands shake as they pull at my t-shirt. Do - do I want her to take it off? Do I want to see where this goes next? My head’s spinning - I’ve had too much to drink, and Jenny’s had way more than me. There’s a crash - a lamp hits the floor and rolls away. I pull the covers hard, throwing them off the bed and down onto the floor. Jenny stumbles backwards, slipping on them and putting a hand out to steady herself as she bounces giggling on the mattress. I hear a faint rip from the seam of my shirt, and I feel myself lurch a little inside at the sound. Jenny’s fumblings bring her hands under the fabric of my shirt. I gasp; her fingertips, hot and sweaty against my skin, inch fearfully higher and higher. I arch my back - breathe in, lean into her - there, she takes the bait, her hands track up my ribs and I can feel her fingers gently brushing against the underside of my breasts and it’s so good, so naughty.

What does she want? She’s married, he’ll be home soon and he’ll find us. Why Me? She shrugs my t-shirt up, cups a breast with both hands. I let her - God help me, I let her. I close my eyes, narrowing the world down to just that feeling - just those hot fingertips, her sweat on my skin. An electric buzz crawls slowly up my spine, making the hairs stand up at the nape of my neck. I roll my head forward and let out a moan - I don’t mean to, it just happens. The buzz rolls around my body, pricking my skin. I feel my nipples puckering, stiffening. A hand circles my waist and I feel Jenny’s body against me, naked and oh so willing. When did she strip? Her small breasts feel soft and inviting pressed against my stomach. I put a hand down onto her shoulder, run it up her long neck and let my palm brush her short peroxide-blonde hair. Her tequila-sweet mouth draws closer, and I feel her hot breath on my body. She kisses my neck and works her way down to my breast, kisses falling on my skin. Why was nobody else ever like this?