Coming Together: The Erotic Cocktail (v2)

By Alessia Brio

Coming Together: The Erotic Cocktail (v2) is the second collection in a 3-part series featuring outstanding new authors, each with an overactive sensual streak. Their stories are sure to stir your passion and entice your libido.

All proceeds benefit the Electronic Frontier Foundation (eff.org)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Coming Together
• Release date: Apr 5, 2009
• ISBN: 9781452311616

Alessia Brio

Take one part Appalachian redneck, one part aging wet dream, and one part filthy-minded wordsmith. Mix well and serve with chocolate-covered cherries. There you have the one and only Alessia Brio. Alessia writes all colors and flavors of erotica, from heterosexual to menage to same sex, and from twisted to humorous to deeply touching. (Sometimes, usually by accident, it even qualifies as romance.) Her work has earned her critical acclaim in the form of a few EPIC eBook Awards for Best Erotica, a couple Next Generation Indie Book Awards, and a Romantic Times Top Pick in addition to a plethora of glowing online reviews.Not all of Alessia's publications are allowed here on Smashwords due to censorship. Readers interested in the full catalog are encouraged to visit her label's website at www.PurpleProsaic.com

Book preview

Coming Together

the erotic cocktail

volume 02

Coming Together: The Erotic Cocktail

volume 2

Alessia Brio, editor

Copyright © 2010 Alessia Brio

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

Cover art © 2010 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 Production

www.EroticAnthology.com

Smashwords edition

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/comingtogether

License Notes

Piracy robs authors of the income they need to be able to continue to write books for readers to enjoy. This ebook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of ONE reader only. This ebook may not be re-sold or copied. To do so is not only unethical, it's illegal. This ebook may not be forwarded via email, posted on personal websites, uploaded to file sharing sites, or printed and distributed. To share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each intended recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for you, please notify the author immediately. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this—and every—author.

DEDICATION

this volume of Coming Together

is dedicated to

Laurel & Manu,

the gracious hosts

of the online erotic haven

Literotica.com®

and

all the guardians of free speech

Table of Contents

About Coming Together

Foreword

There is a whole other world out there. Nestled in among the spam, the fluff and the marketing tricks, hidden behind all those wasted bits and bytes, ordinary humanity has invaded the internet. It is no longer available only to computer geniuses; it is the domain of ordinary people. We can meet, make friends, fall in love, fall out of love. We can talk, we can learn, we can listen to points of view we'd never dreamed of.

We can also find ourselves thinking things we'd never dreamed of. Being a person that we'd never dreamed of.

The internet gives us a chance that was not available to previous generations. We can be anyone on the internet. We can reveal everything or nothing; we can create an entirely separate persona. In our real lives, we live out our days, working hour after hour, doing something utterly mundane and normal. Yet online, we can be someone different, someone dangerous, someone new. Someone sexy. We can come as we aren't.

When the authors from these books slip on the comforting vestments of their noms de plume, they become someone else. They become the people who their friends and families would be surprised to meet. They are free. Free from society's mores and manners, free to say anything, to do anything, to tell anything.

That freedom is why this book exists. Most of these authors are completely normal people. You would pass them on the street and (apart from a brief ogle) you wouldn't give them a second glance. Yet inside, they are wild and dangerous. Sexual, sensual beings, who aren't afraid to vocalise their fantasies and who have the skill and ability to transmute those feelings into delicious words.

We come from every corner of the globe, from every walk of life, from every race, country, creed and colour. We have different politics, different religions, different opinions and different sexualities. Yet we come together on one thing – We are free.

This book is a presentation of that freedom. It is here because we want to share what we have. The feelings that each story evokes are our gift to you and we sincerely hope that you enjoy them.

If you do, remember this. These stories are only there because we feel free to express our inner sexuality. And I believe that we make the world and ourselves just that little bit better by doing it.

And all because of a few bits and bytes.

~ The Earl

August 2005

Preface

Coming Together was conceived online in the Literotica.com® Author's Hangout. It is the result of many hours of collaboration between some very talented authors, poets, and illustrators who have (ahem) come together to produce a scintillating erotic cocktail.

In each volume of this serial, the reader may partake of a variety of intoxicating spirits: group sex, romance, both hetero- and homosexual romps, humor, incest, bondage, anal sex, dominance/submission, fantasy, and fetish. While each individual ingredient may not suit the tastes of every reader, the savory combination of flavors is sure to stir every imagination.

Proceeds from the sale of this volume of Coming Together will be donated to Electronic Frontier Foundation (www.eff.org) which is dedicated to protecting our online freedom of speech.

So, join us in a toast: to sex!

Bottoms up,

~ Alessia Brio

editor

alessiabrio.com

Disclaimers

Coming Together is a compilation of erotic fiction, poetry, and illustrations. It is solely intended for persons of legal majority.

Please note that Coming Together contains works of fiction in which the characters may not practice safe sex. The authors, poets, and illustrators featured in this volume of Coming Together encourage all readers to act responsibly and to take appropriate precautions against both unwanted pregnancy and the transmission of disease.

For resources and frank discussion about safe sex practices, we refer the reader to the Coalition for Positive Sexuality at www.positive.org.

Dr. Bob and His Dildo

© Blackie Malone

He placed his hands on her pussy. Running his fingers through her silky black hair made him more determined to have her alone and lying on the table. Her purring let him know that she was comfortable with the way he touched her. He could do whatever he wanted now. So many women found it uncomfortable to have their pussies fingered in such a way.

An exceptional beauty, he said.

My pussy? she asked smugly, knowing her pussy made everyone think that way.

Yes. Most Persians have those ugly pushed in faces, but your pussy is quite lovely. She's very content, too.

Oh, Dr. Bob, you must say that about everyone's pussy. Mine is really no different.

I assure you I'm being quite honest with you, Ms. Dildo.

That's Dee-doh. The 'L' is silent.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Dildo. You must be French, n'cest pas?"

Yes, my father was very nice. Thank you for asking. No, I'm half Italian, half German, and half Chinese.

She is beautiful, he thought to himself, yet something about her didn't add up.

I would never have guessed looking at you. I thought you were more Swedish with your hair and all.

Dr. Bob couldn't help but notice the way the light reflected off the golden strands of her ebony hair. He thought she could be Swedish or English or both. Swish. Yes, that was it. She looked Swish.

Oh, she smiled and touched her hair. I hear that so often. You'd be amazed how many people think I'm Swish, you know half Swedish, half English.

This man is handsome as well as able to take care of a girl's pussy. Many men don't really care how a woman feels about her pussy. This man however knew all about pussies. After all, he handled so many in a day.

Phyliss wished she had stayed in school so she wouldn't feel so dull next to him. She wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps, except Phyliss didn't have a peg leg, so she chose to be an outliner, like her father. Not many people realized how difficult it was to draw a chalk line around a body. Years of study in the field and many boxes of chalk made her one of the best around. She was always in demand. Her business card read, A Dildo for every body.

Ms. Dildo, Dr Bob interrupted her reverie, I hope you don't mind if I'm impertinent?

Not at all, Dr Bob. Many men seem to have that problem nowadays. Have you thought about Viagra?

Well, not really. I had a bad experience in Canada years ago. All that water... what I meant was, I was wondering if maybe... um... I could come to your place and check out your pussy there. I usually am not in the habit of asking out patients... or their owners, but I really think you're... swell.

Oh my god, he's asking me out! What should I do? He's a handsome doctor that knows how to take care of my pussy.

She looked out toward the audience for dramatic effect only to realize it was a short story with no audience but the reader, you, who is reading this now.

Does he really like me or is he after my pussy. Other men have wanted only to stroke the soft velvety hair that so few have been allowed to touch. What are his true intentions I wonder?

Um, Ms Dildo? I can hear you.

What?

I can hear what you're saying. See the quotation marks there? They mean that you're speaking out loud.

Oh.

She looked at him with her big emerald eyes that sparkled like coal. She wondered if she should have spoken in italics, but then she remembered, she studied Spanish.

Are you alright, Ms. Dildo? You appear disoriented.

That's because I'm half Chinese. Dr Bob, would you like to have dinner at my place this evening? You don't need reservations. There's plenty of parking and I love to cook. I don't really get much of a chance to cook for two. I'm either outlining some strange body or taking care of my pussy.

I would be delighted. It's been a while since I've had a home cooked meal. Not since my mother's passing.

I'm sorry, I didn't realize your mother was... dead.

What? Oh she's not dead. She just passes by and throws a paper bag with a sandwich in it for me out of the car window. If I'm lucky I get it before the neighbor's shitzu's all over it.

I would report neighbors like that. That's so wrong and so unsanitary. Shall we say six-ish?

Yes.

Six-ish. Breathlessly said in unison.

I'll see you then, Ms. Dildo, and... handing her Persian cat back to her, here is your pussy with a clean bill of health.

Thank you, Dr. Bob. She purred, I'll see you six-ish.

Six-ish it is, Ms. Dildo, he barked back at her.

Phyliss Dildo lived in a modest home. It was long and had wheels, but she was no better than any other person in the trailer park. Even though she had the best view of the surrounding landfill and she was upwind from the chemical toilet dump, she was anything but a snob.

Her yard was decorated tastefully with truck tires painted white, which held an assortment of petunias. She also had a beautiful rose bush that she religiously pruned. Phyliss felt that keeping her bush trimmed looked so much better than letting it go wild. Hanging above her awning was a sign she was quite proud of, it read, I love pussy with a little heart in place of the word love. Her next-door neighbors, two lovely girls, Pat and Chris, would always comment on it.

Hey, Phyliss, how's your pussy? Pat would shout whenever Phyliss was outside bending over her petunias. Look's pretty damn good from here!

Then Chris would comment on how well trimmed her bush was, but it would confuse Phyliss whenever Chris mentioned she preferred hers to be shaved.

Phyliss would wave and thank them though she was always puzzled how they could see her pussy from outside. Her pussy rarely saw the light of day. She had gotten used to their odd religious practice of tying a mirror over the tops of their shoes whenever Phyliss wore a skirt.

Glancing up at the clock, which was also a cat with a swinging tail to keep the minutes in time with its shifting eyes. She noticed Dr. Bob would soon be there. She ran to the bathroom for a quick once over.

Her green eyes were like two perfect sapphires tessellated on opposite sides of her perfect nose. Lush pouting lips lay just beneath her nose, which was quite a good spot for them. They were not supermodel pouting lips, but not like strips of liver either. She applied a thin layer of lipstick, not too red but not at all orange, and then blended a highlight of pink before layering on a polyurethane sealer. Perfect.

A tapping on her screen door made her jump and she bumped her head on the ceiling. Dr. Bob was right on time, which was perfect for her. She hated when it took a man a long time to come. She walked over to the door to see him standing there, chocolates under one arm, a bottle of wine under the other, and a bouquet of Calla lilies under his other arm. Unlatching the door she swung it open for him to enter.

Hello, Dr. Bob. Please come inside, then peering out the door and looking both ways, she added. It's not safe after dark, and there are wolves.

Thank you, Ms. Dildo. May I say your home is quite long?

Why yes, it is. I was going to get a double but I would have to pay triple so I got the single since it's silly to pay triple for a double when I'm only one person who is single.

That makes perfect sense to me. Oh! I brought these for you, Ms. Dildo. Belgian chocolates. I hope you like them.

I love their waffles, so I'm sure I will.

Calla lilies.

I didn't know they were in bloom again.

Such a strange flower. My mother carried them on her wedding day.

What about your father?

He was much too heavy for her. I brought some wine for dinner.

"How sweet. I hope you like Italian?''

I love fettuccini.

Oh, I don't know much about opera, but I did make spaghetti capybara.

I'm sure it will be quite comestible considering what I normally eat.

Not to worry. I have a fire extinguisher.

What I meant was I'm positive tonight will be a gastronomical marvel.

I love to gaze at the stars, too. Perhaps we can do it after dinner?

I would love to do it with you, Ms. Dildo.

No need to be so formal, please call me Phil.

I shall, Phil, if you call me Bob. Is Phil short for Phyliss?

Yes, it is, but the first 'S' is silent. Shall we sit, and I'll start to serve?

Phyliss went to the stove and dipped into her pasta pot. She worried if she had made enough; she had hoped 30 pounds would be sufficient for two people. Using her garden rake, she scooped the strands of spaghetti into a large bowl and placed it on the table in front of Dr. Bob; followed by a tureen of sauce and a platter of marble sized meatballs.

I hope you don't have a problem with tiny meatballs, Bob?

No problem there, Phil.

Oh dear Bob, I forgot bread sticks!

Bob used his pocket periscope to see Phil over the heaping bowl of pasta. He was enamored with the way she delicately twirled her spaghetti on her fork and heartily shoved it in her luscious mouth. The splattering of sauce gave him impure thoughts and he found himself starting to blush. This woman had class written all over her as well as capybara sauce.

That's quite alright, Phil. I'm not really into bread sticks. I'm more of a donut-slash-bagel man.

Using her knife like a machete, she cut a path through the bowl of pasta as easily as Moses parted the Red Sea. She watched him as he threw the meatballs up in the air and caught them in his mouth. She wondered how she managed to land a date with a man as refined as he. His salt and pepper hair reminded her that she had forgotten oregano. She immediately slid down from the pasta bowl and ran over to her spice cupboard.

Her eyes scanned for the oregano. Salt. Pepper. Saltpeter. Dill weed. Damn, where could the oregano be? Then she spotted a small plastic bag in the corner. It was the herbs that her neighbors Pat and Chris had given her when she had them over. It was the night they said they wanted to have fish tacos, which was also strange because they said they were both experienced muff divers, yet she never saw a boat or scuba gear.

Pulling the bag down, she discarded the small rectangular papers that must have been there to keep the herbs from getting damp. The desert humidity had a way of getting into everything. One of the drawbacks of living in the deserts of Pennsylvania was the scorching humidity; it gnawed its way into everything. It was like a beaver gnawing into pressure treated two by fours to use in building a dam.

She ran around to other side of the table and threw a handful of the herbs onto Dr. Bob's plate.

Sorry Bob, I forgot the special spices.

Thank you, Phil. He coughed as the dusting of herbs filled his lungs.

He couldn't help but notice how firm her ass looked in her spandex jeans as she bumped into the table after slipping on an escaped meatball that landed on the floor from an over anticipated throw which bounced off of his lower lip causing the meatball to ricochet from his mouth to his water glass, off the pasta bowl and to the ceiling before landing unceremoniously on the floor.

He could feel a stirring in his groin, not like a gas bubble, but more like arousal. As she leaned over to wipe up some of the sauce that had spilled from her collision with the table, he couldn't help but notice that her breasts were like two ferrets chasing each other in a burlap sack. He could smell her perfume and he felt his member start to rise.

I'm pitching a tent. He thought, Not a pup tent, but a big tent, like at the circus but without clowns.

He decided to bring up a lighter topic to talk about to take his mind off of his growing lust. They chatted about the usual dinner topics like quantum physics, mitochondrial DNA, and origami. However, when she said the word origami all he could think of was orgasm, and his dick would tap out Morse code against his thigh, F...U...C...K. He realized he didn't know much about her, only about her pussy, and a man should know more about a woman than what her pussy is like.

So tell me, Phil, do you have any siblings? Bob inquired.

No, just a brother, said Phyliss as she nervously strung meatballs together on a strand of spaghetti, which made her think of Christmas garland, which made her think of how wonderful it would be to spend Christmas with this man and making love under the Christmas tree, but not on the tiny village she placed below it, especially where the manger was concerned because after all she could never do it in front of the baby Jesus. She then realized her hands had slipped between her legs creating memories of her own.

Are you close? Bob asked.

What? The question brought Phyliss back to the present and she distractedly continued to play with her meatball garland.

Your brother, are the two of you close? He asked while playing cats in the cradle with a few of the longer strands of spaghetti.

Oh, that. Well he lives in the state but I haven't seen him in a while. He's sort of the black sheep of the family. He was quite a handful.

A real firecracker, huh?

No, more like a fire starter. He's an arsonist... but reformed. In fact he did have a job in a lumber yard for a while, but he had to quit.

He was tempted by all the wood there?

No, the knot holes. He also had an incredibly abnormally high libido and the temptation was too much, not to mention the splinters.

Phyliss was going through her own private hell of wanton thoughts and feelings. The smell of his Old Spice made her long for the sea.

When