The Ginger Erotica Collection Vol. 1

By Ginger Starr

Six ultra-erotic and very explicit short stories featuring M/F, F/F and group scenes. Titles include: "Everyone Loves Cello", "My First Time", "Fair Play", "A Little Off The Top", "Steam Heat" and "Doctor's Orders".

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ginger Starr Publishing
• Release date: Sep 30, 2011
• ISBN: 9781301405572

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The Ginger Erotica Collection: Volume 1 by Ginger Starr

Published by Ginger Starr Publishing at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 by Ginger Starr

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table Of Contents

My First Time

Every One Loves Cello

Fair Play

A Little Off The Top

Steam Heat

Doctor’s Orders

My First Time

I was 22. No, really, my first time giving head was when I was 22. Did you think I meant sex? Honey, that didn’t happen till I was 25 and married. Now, before you skip over this story thinking, Why do I want to read about an ugly girl who finally got a guy to let her suck him off and then found a pathetic dude to marry?

Let me tell you. Without sounding full of myself, I am considered hot. So much so, that in high school, I was the subject of this limerick:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Kim Stormer is built

Like a B-52

I was the muse for every eighteen year-old bard’s scribbling on the boy’s bathroom wall, school desk and even my locker, in case they feared their ode had escaped me.

It didn’t fill me with confidence or a sense of power over guys and their hormones. I felt constantly stared at and objectified. I’d wear my baggiest sweatshirts and hug my books to my chest when I had to walk the school’s hallway between classes.

Girls were just as bad with their jealousy and whisper campaigns. I had few friends, because no one wanted me around their boyfriend. As a result, family

and church were my only social life. I was a good girl, like to think I still am, and I liked playing by the rules. I couldn’t help it if my giant ta-tas made me look like every redneck’s fantasy of the girl on his mud flaps come to life.

Oh, redneck, right. I forgot to add, I grew up in Danielsville, Georgia. Where? Exactly. So, with my background and hick accent, it could be assumed that I had few options. One was to be a Dolly Parton impersonator; the other more likely one was to jump on the pole at one of Atlanta’s hundred strip clubs.

The peckerwoods in my hometown were so judgmental and narrow-minded, that some of them said that was exactly my plan. They couldn’t believe I had earned a full scholarship to study nursing at Emory. All those dateless nights of endless studying paid off in straight A’s, I guess.

So, off I went, bags packed and vowing to never return to crappy little Danielsville, except to see the folks. I kept up my studying, had to, since I was terrified of losing my scholarship, and managed to make Dean’s list every semester while holding down two part-time, non-stripping, thank you, jobs.

What I’m trying to say is, girlfriend was busy. And single. And a virgin. Which is fine. Like I said, I like being a good girl. But that didn’t mean I didn’t have a ton of pent up sexual energy that could not be burnt off by a full calendar and pure thoughts.

I was determined, however to wait until marriage. After graduation, I became roommates with a girl I went to school with and started my first nursing job, which I loved. It seemed like everything was going according to plan till Troy showed up. He was my roommate’s boyfriend who practically moved in their first week of dating.

They were, for lack of a better term, screwing machines. It surprised me because one of the reasons Amy and I got on so well was because we were both from small towns and shared the same values. She never said she was putting off sex till marriage, I realize hardly anyone does anymore, but I never would have thought her to fall so easily for a guy like Troy. But then again, I never thought I would either.

He was in a rock band. He had long hair and wore tight jeans that left no doubt as to what he had to offer. He drank, smoke, cursed and would show up at 3am after getting in a bar fight and losing his guitar. He was a mess and I sure as heck don’t want to know what he looks like now. But I will admit, he certainly served his purpose at the time.

Anyway, he was at our apartment almost all the time and I would be the audience of one for their moaning and headboard banging symphony at least twice a night. I tried earplugs, a pillow over my face, everything I could think of to ignore them.

I told myself I was annoyed because I had to work in the morning, but really, their fooling around made me so horny, I was staying up and masturbating till the three of us would finally pass out in our separate rooms. Yes, I masturbate. I’m not that prudish, as you will soon find out.

It was on a rare weekend afternoon that Troy wasn’t around when I worked up the courage to ask Amy if she could move her bed a few inches from our adjoining wall, so the headboard wouldn’t smack into it. Blushing, she agreed and I was totally relieved I hadn’t caused the end of our friendship.

Troy continued to stay over and I could still hear them together, but with earphones and a sleeping pill, I could usually nod off after diddling myself only once. That was until I found the magazine.

I guess I was still groggy from taking the pill because I stumbled to our shared bathroom one early Sunday morning and didn’t even notice the centerfold spread on the sink till after I flushed the toilet and washed my hands. It wasn’t just any gentleman’s magazine with airbrushed pin-ups artfully posed on bearskin rugs.

It was what I can only assume is called hardcore. If not, then I don’t know what hardcore is. The model was not alone in the picture. She was on her knees in front of three guys dressed like bikers in leather jackets and sunglasses. She was built like me; big on top, although it was plain hers were not natural.

She had one of their hard penises between her raspberry gloss coated lips as she jerked off the other two. I stood there stunned. I felt electric shivers at the same time a cold sweat broke out under my arms and on my upper lip. I squirmed and felt a thick wetness suddenly between my thighs.

I knew I should have been disgusted, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The model was gorgeous. The contrast between her wholesome face and corn silk blonde hair with being naked on her knees and servicing three guys was just so hot. There was no other way to describe it. Plus, the more I stared at her, the more I realized how much she looked like me.

From Amy’s room, I heard Troy’s morning smoker’s cough. He was awake. I hurriedly dried my hands and glanced in the bathroom mirror. My skin was flushed and my eyes glowed. I couldn’t deny that I was completely aroused. I made a plan to scurry back to bed and rub a quick one out before church.

Looking back, I realize, of course, the set up. But at that time, I was truly naïve. I thought Troy had just been drunk and forgetful enough to leave his girlie mag in the bathroom, not that he had deliberately left it open to a picture of a woman who could have been my dirty twin.

Taking care to place the magazine where I found it, so it looked untouched, I quietly left the bathroom, only to find Amy’s bedroom door wide open. I walked casually past it, using all of my willpower to just stare straight ahead till I made it to the safety of my room.

I was reaching out to turn the handle on my door when I heard him.

Morning.

His low sexy voice sent chills through me.

Good morning! I squeaked, trying my Doris Day best to be bright and chipper.

Amy’s bed creaked as his feet hit the floor. A second later, he was leaning in her doorway behind me.