Coming Together Treasures: Sommer Marsden

By Sommer Marsden

CONTENTS:

Making Me Do Things from Coming Together: For the Cure

Boil or Bake

Anal Alley from Coming Together: Al Fresco

Pagoda

You Make a Dead Man Come from Coming Together: Hungry for Love

Sugar

Good With His Hands from Coming Together: Under Fire

Smokehouse

Lush Buns from Coming Together: With Curves

Reclaiming Spring

Things That Go Bump in the Night from Coming Together: With Sommer

Dying for Love from Coming Together: With Sommer

Intruder from Coming Together: With Sommer

• Language: English
• Publisher: Coming Together
• Release date: Jul 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301631896

Sommer Marsden

Sommer Marsden has been called "Erotica royalty…" (Lucy Felthouse). Her numerous erotic novels include Boys Next Door, Restless Spirit and Learning to Drown. Sommer currently writers erotica and erotic romance full-time from her east coast home. The wine-swigging, dachshund-owning, wannabe runner author's work runs the gamut from bondage to zombies to humour.

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Coming Together Treasures

Sommer Marsden

Copyright © 2013 Sommer Marsden

All digital rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

Cover art © 2013 Alessia Brio

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Coming Together Publication

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Smashwords edition

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License Notes

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Table of Contents

Introduction

Making Me Do Things

Boil or Bake

Anal Alley

Pagoda

You Make a Dead Man Come

Sugar

Good With His Hands

Smokehouse

Lush Buns

Reclaiming Spring

Things That Go Bump in the Night

Dying for Love

Intruder

About the Author

About Coming Together

Introduction

Once in a great while, an editor collides with an author who is an absolute joy to work with. One who delivers the goods on time (or even early), one who needs minimal edits and is gracious when changes are necessary, and--in the case of Coming Together--one who is unfailingly generous with her words. Given how hard won my words are to me, the latter is extremely precious.

Sommer Marsden has been a Coming Together contributor since its first open call way back in 2006. Back when ebooks were the inferior cousins of real books. Before Kindles and Nooks and iPads.

Sommer was there.

She has consistently submitted her stories to Coming Together collections ever since. I don't think I've ever turned one away. And why would I? She writes edgy, raw passion. Unapologetic sexuality. It really doesn't matter if the protagonist shares your kinks and triggers. She'll hook you with emotion.

Sex is extremely difficult to write well. Sommer makes it appear effortless! That said, I'd seek her work in any genre. She spins an engaging tale (tail?) regardless of realm.

This inaugural collection of Treasures will benefit the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network (pancan.org), a charity selected by Ms. Marsden for very personal reasons. Your purchase not only benefits the organization directly, but also supports Sommer indirectly.

Thank you!

~ Alessia Brio

Making Me Do Things

Originally published in Coming Together: For the Cure

I admit it, Nick makes me do things. Not against my will, mind you. He makes me do thing that he knows deep down I really want to do.

Somehow, magically, in a day or so of knowing me, he sniffed out my exhibitionist tendencies. He pushed the limit of what got me off on our third date. I was into things like going pantiless in a short skirt during Happy Hour at the pub. Every once in a while, pulling a Sharon Stone and flashing my cunt to anyone who happened to be looking. That was too tame for Nick. Too tame for me as it turned out. On our third date, he had me giving him a hand job in the back diner booth. Any fool could figure out what I was doing. I lost myself in that moment and even talked dirty to him. Loudly. The couple in the neighboring booth left before finishing their meal, although the man did look reluctant.

Every time I thought Nick had taken me as far as I could go, he'd push me one step further. Sex in a moving car. Sex in a public park. Blow jobs in the alley during a crowded street festival. It just got better and better. He knew me better than I knew myself, and I liked that. Liked that he could pinpoint so exactly what would get me off when I didn't seem to know it myself.

I liked him making me do things.

When we arrived at the carnival, that excitement started buzzing in my belly. I wasn't stupid enough to think that we were just there for cotton candy and ring tosses. He was up to something and that something, without doubt, would include sex. The excitement turned to a deep, beating need in my belly. When? Where? How? It all rushed through my head like a drug. I felt high.

You're already worked up, he said and laughed the deep, throaty laugh I love. His laugh alone can make me wet. When it's paired with his games, his laugh can make me shudder. He clutched my hand and led me on. Come on, Emma. Lots to see.

I followed him but couldn't take in anything but the feel of his hand covering mine. The smell of him seemed more intense than any of the food smells. Fried dough, cotton candy, popcorn. All I could smell was Nick. Spicy and musky. To me, he smelled like sex.

I watched him toss balls at the milk bottles. Watched the muscles in his arms flex as he drew back to throw. I watched his forearms bunch with power, and my head felt floaty. I was braless and pantiless like he liked me, and I felt my nipples push against my soft cotton tank. That stimulation alone had me dripping, and I rubbed my thighs together.

They weight them, I whispered in his ear, letting my hand drag over the fly of his faded jeans. He was hard, and I felt his cock jerk under my hand. God, how long would he make me wait? I say we go do what we came here to do instead of you wasting your money.

I'm having fun, he said, smiling. The smile was nothing short of evil. His bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief. He liked to make me wait. We'll get to it when I say so, he said and winked. He tossed the ball hard, and I watched the muscles of his back engage and dance under his T-shirt. He was perfect. The bottles toppled and even the gamer looked amazed.

You won! he said after he recovered. What'll it be, mister? What would the lovely lady like?

That's easy, Nick said with a slow smile. She'll have the nice pink pussy up there. He pointed to a pink stuffed cat with rhinestone eyes. The neck and ankles garishly trimmed in pink marabou.

The man gave a knowing grin at Nick's play on words and plucked the cat from the shelf. He handed it over. One pink pussy for the lady, he said with a wink. He was loving this. Which meant Nick was loving it. Which meant I might come just standing there.

Actually, Nick laughed, handing me the stuffed toy, this makes two pink pussies, for the lovely lady. Then he leaned forward conspiratorially and said, I have to tell you, hers is far superior to anything you might have on your prize shelf.

The man's eyes glistened like he would cry. His jaw went a little slack. And he shifted. Shifted in that way that a man does when his cock suddenly and unexpectedly springs to life. Um…

Have a good night, Nick laughed and took my arm.

We made it three steps when he hissed, Do it.

I didn't think. I dropped the plush cat at my feet, paused a beat and bent over to get it. Legs straight, ass high, I bent at the waist. My short denim skirt rose to the occasion, and I felt the cool night air lick at the back of my thighs, my bare ass, and my naked pussy. I gave it a few beats, picked up the cat and stood.

Now that lucky gentlemen has a date later, Nick said, walking me through the thinning crowd.

He does? I asked coyly, playing along.

His fist has a date with his cock. In his mind, you will be front and center. You and your pink pussies. Then he slid a proprietary hand along the swell of my ass and pinched me hard enough to start a pulse in my cunt.

How long are you going to make me wait? I asked.

Until you can't stand it any more.

I nodded. I was just checking.

I thought he might have cracked when we went into the tunnel of love. We climbed into our own personal blue swan boat, and he slid his hand under my skirt. You're not afraid of the dark are you, Emma?

Not if you're with me, I countered, squirming in the seat. I wanted to force his fingers to my clit. Make him give me something. Damn, anything. I was desperate.

Behave yourself, he said, and strummed my swollen button a few times with his blunt fingertips. I closed my eyes and let the sensations shoot through me. Heat, desire, pleasure. All from a few strokes of his fingers. I squirmed some more, desperate to get him to shove his fingers into my weeping cunt. I was so wet I knew I'd leave streaks of moisture on the fake leather seat.

He did comply for just a moment as the ride hitched forward. I jerked in my seat, and he timed it perfectly, sliding two broad fingers into me. He pushed and stretched my pussy as the swan swayed in the water. I felt my cunt tighten around him, greedy and ready. Maybe once we were in the true dark he'd let me climb into his lap and ride him. He wouldn't, I knew. He wasn't done making me wait. But a girl could dream.

A few minutes into the ride with nothing but fairy lights strung from the rafters lighting the tunnel, I heard his zipper hiss. My mouth instantly formed an O. So, well trained am I, that just hearing his zipper makes my lips flex for him. Form a shape conducive to letting his long hard cock slide into my waiting mouth.

Suck me, he said, pulling his fingers briskly from my body. His voice, nothing but a growl in the dark, shot a cool chill over my skin. I lowered my head to his lap, breathing in deeply the scent of his cock. The smell of him that only exists in that particular place. A secret smell that to me smells like love.

I took him in between my lips. I savored each millimeter as I pushed my head lower and inhaled his cock. He pushed my head roughly. Rough enough to make me squirm and ache for him inside of me. Not so rough that I gagged. The perfect touch. I let loose my tongue along the length of him. Played over each ridge and vein, his skin exquisitely soft in my mouth. As I ran my tongue over the head, dragged it across his leaking slit, I realized I wouldn't get mine here. The boat was private. Just the two of us. He would never fuck me here. I had more waiting to do.

Best to pass the time sucking him. I might as well enjoy it. The desire to get him off before the ride ended was overwhelming. I wanted to push him over the edge and get my hot, wet rewards. But that wouldn't happen either. Nick doesn't work that way. He knows I love to give him head, so he wouldn't let me finish. I felt the ride hitch and sway as we rounded a corner, and I was desperate to break the rules and make him come. He wasn't having it. He let out a groan, the only signal to me that he really didn't want me to stop, and then he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head up.

Enough.

I made one desperate attempt to get back to what I was doing, but he yanked my hair a little harder and my heart beat faster. I liked a little pain.

That's enough, Emma, he whispered in my ear and nipped the back of my neck with his sharp white teeth. I nearly shoved my own hands under my skirt to try to find some relief. It was torture.

I didn't say anything but relaxed in the near dark. Satisfied that I would obey, Nick released my hair and put his arm around my shoulder. Very proper and normal, we seemed, I'm sure. Dark haired girl with light haired boy riding in the tunnel of love. His arm around my shoulder and his pants zipped up again. Very normal indeed. But the steady thump of want and need in my cunt had my ears buzzing and my mouth as dry as hay. When?

And like that, the ride was over. When the attendant came to help us out, I raised my leg a little too high to get out. He got an eyeful and his mouth dropped open with a nearly audible pop. I stared him right in the eye and winked as Nick chuckled softly in the dark. He wrapped his arm around me, and I clutched my soft pink prize. The marabou tickled my nose as we made our way back out into the warm night.

How many guys do you think it'll be tonight? he said in my ear. The crowd was even thinner now and I realized it was nearly time for the carnival to shut down. How many guys will be jacking off and thinking about you?

As many as possible, I sighed and pushed up closer to him. Sometimes I felt like I wanted to crawl inside of him. Live in his skin. I could not get close enough to Nick. It's shutting down soon. Are we ever going to fuck? I didn't like the petulant tone in my voice, but I felt petulant. I felt like a child who was being promised something that would never be delivered.

Patience is a virtue.

I am lacking in virtue, I said.

Nonsense. Let's go see about the other rides. Want a Coke?

Yeah, sure, I sighed. Let's get a Coke.

The soda was sweet and cold, and it satisfied my sweet tooth. At least something was being satisfied. As we walked, Nick kept one possessive hand around my waist. From time to time, he would slide his warm palm down and pinch my ass. Hard. At other times, he'd slide his hand down and just stroke me. I never knew which it would be and by the time we stopped in front of the Ferris Wheel, my face was flushed and my cunt was soaked. The constant want and anticipation of that jolt of pain that may or may not come was enough to push my patience to the limit.

I stared up at the revolving ride, and my knees went a little weak. Tell me we're not going on this thing, I said. You know how much I hate heights. Just looking up at the lazily rotating car at the very top was enough to make me sway with fear.

Of course we are. I could see his semi-malicious grin in the flickering lights of the ride. You can't go to a carnival and not ride the Ferris Wheel. We have to go up and see all the lights. All the people. We'll see and smell everything from up there.

He guided me to the ticket booth, and I struggled some. Embarrassing but true. I am terrified of heights. He pushed me a little harder, and I gasped when he swatted my ass hard enough to make it sting. The flood of pleasure that worked through me made me forget my fear for a moment.

You're going up there with me, Emma, and that's final. You can do it. I know you can. And I'm willing to wager that you'll end up loving it.

My skin prickled all over at his stern tone and the prospect of what he was suggesting. Now I knew his proposed location. We made it to the window and he turned to the man and said, Two tickets.

Sorry, Mister, we're shutting her down for the night. Letting the last couple off now.

A wave of relief washed over me. It was only slightly tinged with disappointment. We'd find another location. We'd fuck somewhere else. It was a carnival. There had to be a million places we could do it where people would see us. Would secretly watch us. Or not so secretly as it sometimes turned out. Hell, worst case scenario, he could bend me over one of the security gates and fuck me from behind if he wanted. I didn't care. At least I wouldn't have to go up in the rickety, spinning, swaying car.

Nick smiled his slow, easy, we-can-work-this-out smile and leaned in. He spoke softly and quietly to the kid behind the counter. I strained to hear but couldn't make out a damn word. At first, the kid looked shocked. Then his eyes, muddy brown and tiny in his pale face, took me in hungrily. Then he smiled, and it reminded me of the oily villain in a movie. Then he took the fifty Nick offered, shoved it in his pocket and handed over two red tickets.

Bobby!