20 Erotic Tales

By Robert Broadmind

The erotic tales presented reflect the incredible variety of sexual inclinations and uninhibited, unrestrained bodily lust. The geographic setting changes in each story. The protagonists include writers, sculptors, vacationers, ladies of the day and night. The love scenes and stories leave nothing to be desired. Lively action flows from London to New York, Tennessee, Montreal, Ibiza and Mallorca. The encounters include hetero, homo, bi-sexual, lesbian, and diagonal relationships.
The tales deal, among other things, with the seduction of a convent girl by a rich older lady; with the fascination of a female professor and her husband for what is locally called a hillbilly; with the falling in love of two couples with each other; with the formation of threesomes and foursomes; with a successful wife swapping attempt; and other stories. The characters depicted engage in all kinds of passionate behavior to satisfy their sexual needs and desires; and be they not so strange.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jan 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481783231

Robert Broadmind

Robert Broadmind has taught at several universities and has written research reports on a variety of topics and published the findings in different journals. He is well-travelled and has lived in different continents. For the first 20 years of his life, he lived in Germany. At age 20, he immigrated to Canada. He has lived in Tennessee, U.S.A. for two years, and in Guyana, South Africa also for two years.

Book preview

1

FIRST SEDUCTION

Napoleon 1:

Love has many faces.

W hen an elegant lady, who had her chauffeur-driven, expensive looking saloon car stop right next to me, to ask whether I wanted a ride into town (she had seen me come out of the convent), I wanted to say No, thank you, milady, as I was taught. But before I could say anything, the lady said of course you will and opened the car door. I got in without further thought and we drove off.

I show you where I live, she said. When she leaned over to get a map of the area out of the glove compartment, to show me where we were and where we would be going, she supported herself momentarily with one hand on my knee. I felt a strong electric surge go through my body, as if I had touched an unprotected electric wire. The lady noticed. She smiled at me with dark, feline, unreadable eyes. I observed that she did not look at the map at all. She just wanted to make some kind of physical contact. More precisely, she wanted to touch me. Her slim fingers were like a thermometer. She took my temperature. She wanted to see how I reacted to her touch. Now she knew. She looked at me with dewy eyes and smiled sweetly.

In the convent school for young ladies my mother had sent me to, we led a seemingly strict moral life. Only, at night I and the other young ladies were constantly overcome by sexual fantasies and strong physical desires. I dreamed then of all kinds of men, mainly of movie stars, but also of men I had seen recently on my walks, or in town, who had looked at me with interest. A few times I dared look back, just to see whether they still looked. They always did. What exactly are they looking at, I wondered. I think they looked mainly at my legs and my derriere. My girlfriends told me in an envious way that I had attractive long legs, a nice bum and a slim waist, which accentuates, or so they said, the roundness of your bum.

The lady and I talked a bit. She asked me how it was, to live in a convent. She laughed when I told her. Then she said: You poor thing, it cannot be very nice to live like that. So confined! I tell you something. We will drive to my apartment in town and I will spoil you a bit. I will have my maid get us something exquisite to nibble on. I protested in vain. She laughed, petted my legs, hugged me briefly and distantly, and took me to her home. Did she maybe sense my unfulfilled desires? She probably thought: here is a good-looking young lady, locked up for three years in a convent. Innocence personified.

It was an elegant apartment building. We walked up two flights of stairs, I in front. I could literally feel the lady’s eyes on my body. Oh, oh, I thought, regretting that I had got into her car and into this situation. I wondered how this escapade would end. When I surmised what the end might be, I asked myself how I could get out of this situation. I should never have agreed to come. What does the lady want from me? After all, she is at least 20 years older than I am. Of course I knew of several of my inmates, as we called ourselves, in my dormitory, who slipped into each other’s’ beds at night. I could hear their kisses and moans. I was tempted myself, at least twice. But I always got scared and got rid of any intruder with a kiss or two and a bit of petting.

The apartment was beautifully furnished. High ceilings, large rooms, expensive furniture. The lady herself was tall, slim, and elegant. She had me sit next to her on a large chesterfield. While I lowered myself, I tried to push my skirt down, which had a habit of creeping up on me all by itself. The lady smiled. She watched my futile efforts. Her eyes were green, prey of beast like. She got up and left. When she came back, she carried a small tray with two glasses. I have opened a bottle of champagne for such a lovely visitor, she said. She sat down next to me. I was impressed. She had opened this expensive looking bottle of champagne just for me? We clinked glasses. She looked into my eyes. I felt hypnotised, and had to look down. She refilled my glass. I pretended that I was used to drinking champagne. The champagne is delicious, I remarked in a casual voice. I began to feel the effect. Nothing seemed to bother me all of a sudden. It felt like flying. Not only my own, the lady’s skirt too seemed to slip up each time she got up and sat down again. She watched me cross my legs. Surreptitiously I watched her cross her legs. We clinked glasses again. The champagne began to numb my brain. I relaxed. I accepted a third glass.

The third glass was my undoing. There we sat, chatting, drinking and laughing. Every so often, the woman would put her hand on my knee, to make a point, and to stroke it a bit. When she took her hand off, I was disappointed. After a while she left it there. I did not mind because my brain was inactive. On the contrary, all of a sudden her hand felt very good. I was getting woozy. The lady’s skirt had also slipped up quite a bit by now. I could see the rim of her nylons and the white thighs above it. Black straps held her black nylons. She had very slim lower legs, but substantial upper legs, I noticed. When she walked, she took very small steps and flexed her buttocks.

When my lady sat down again, her skirt slipped up quite a bit. She crossed her legs frequently. I watched, fascinated, as if I was in a movie theatre. Each time she crossed and re-crossed her legs, her skirt slipped up a bit more. Before long I felt her elegant hand on my knees. Her long thin fingers circled my knee cap, a sensitive area with me. I quickly crossed my legs again. This pushed up my skirt even higher up my legs. I looked surreptitiously at her legs, while she looked with half-closed eyes at mine. We seemed to be in some kind of silent competition: who can pull up her skirt the highest and reveal the most leg.

There I sat close to a rich lady. She was so elegant, so beautiful and so determined. She did not take no for an answer. I had really no chance. She was self-assured and knew what she was doing. Once I stepped into her apartment, I was lost without knowing it. She dominated me totally. For her age, she was beautiful. She had prominent breasts, a slim waist and round, juicy buttocks, the most beautiful bum I had ever seen, judged by the many different bums of my young friends in the convent. I got to admire her physical charms. My friends in the convent will love the story I will be able to tell them tonight, I thought. My lady seemed to like my legs too. She flattered me. Nor did she let go of conquered territory. The circling movements of her hands on my knees aroused me. Her tender stroking made me seem to float. Slowly, the lady’s hand moved further and further up my legs. She pushed up my skirt with her thumb. I watched her hand, fascinated. She was so skilful. I got goose bumps all over.

She stroked my thighs now, the naked flesh above my nylons. I felt my nipples stiffen against my thin sweater. She noticed it. The buttons of her blouse seemed to open by themselves. I could see more and more of her breasts. I felt like it, but I did not dare touch them. Instead I felt her hand move higher and higher up my thighs. I did not object. I pretended her action to be quite normal, nothing unusual. Oh how sweet, she said, while she looked at my breasts. She bent over. Her own breasts nearly fell out of her rather skimpy bra. She gave first one, then the other stiff nipple a little kiss, while her fingers tried to slip between my pressed-together thighs. Unlike the fumbling fingers of my girlfriends at the convent, her hand was very knowledgeable. I nearly swooned. The champagne went more and more to my head. I knew I was lost. Against this experienced lady I had no chance.

What long, sensitive fingers she had. I felt one finger tickle my entrance. While I sighed deeply, it entered me. How easily it slipped in. I was so moist. Now she caressed my hot spot. With the other hand she twirled one of my nipples, while she gently kissed and pulled on the other with her lipa. She did not let go of my hot button. Oh, the champagne, I thought vaguely, a mistake. Yet I had to admit that her knowledgeable hands felt rather good. To get to her champagne glass, she had to bend over me in such a way that her ample breasts were just in front of my nose. Before I could think what I was doing, I had put my hand into her blouse, to caress and kiss her lovely breasts. That did it. Now I knew for sure that I was lost.

So did my lady. She got up and smiled at me. She looked me over, my skirt way up my legs, my naked breasts demanding to be touched. I will get us another bottle of this good stuff, she said, clicking away on high-heeled pumps. I could not avert my eyes from her swinging buttocks. How elegant, I thought. When she returned, she had taken top and skirt off! She was half naked! Instead of feeling shocked, I admired her beauty. She had a voluptuous body. She wore only a rather tiny daringly skimpy bra to hold in her full breasts, a tiny G-string to hide her sex, and a garter belt to hold up her stockings. Her flesh-coloured nylons accentuated her white, smooth radiant skin. What a big, inviting bum she has, I mused. She twirled around for me, so that I could get a good look at her from all sides. I got hot just from looking at her. She was so adult, so ripe, not at all like my friends at the convent. We were all rather skinny. The food in the abbey was neither good nor plentiful. We can never grow fat in that place, I was thinking.

My lady put her glass on a table and came over to me. I started shivering. She bent down and gave me a quick kiss on the mouth, before pulling up my sweater, saying Here. Let’s take this off. Then she gave me my glass of pearly champagne and sat down next to me, but not before she loosened the button that held her tiny G-string, which I watched as it slowly sank to the floor. Her legs were perfectly shaped. Her calves were slim and her thighs juicy. I elevated her to my ideal of a beautiful woman. Through her, and the polite way she treated me, I felt fully grown up. We touched glasses, like two friends, no, like two lovers.

The lady sat close to me and looked deeply into my eyes. I swooned. She bent over and kissed me on the mouth, while lifting one of my breasts out of my bra to tickle the tip first with her fingers, then with her tongue. She was skilful and self-assured. I felt a surge of heat rise up from my legs to my lap. She lifted out my other breast. There I sat, my breasts fully exposed, hanging out of my bra, which she did not take off. She put her hand between my thighs again and pressed them gently apart. I opened them only too readily. I slowly emptied my glass while I watched her play with me. I was a bit drunk by now. I decided the best thing to do was to just lean back and let her spoil me. I might as well enjoy her caresses; I could not prevent them anymore. Nor did I want to. The woman pulled down my panties next. I helped by lifting up my bum. She flung them behind the sofa. The bra followed. I was now naked, except for garter belt and stockings, none of which hid anything.

The lady took my empty glass, put it onto the side table and pulled me onto her lap. I cuddled into her arms. She looked at me with her mesmerising eyes and stroked my cheeks and hair. Then she kissed me deeply. I felt her strong, long tongue explore my mouth, while she caressed my legs and breasts. After only a short while I got so aroused, that I put my arms around her neck to kiss her back. Our tongues got to know each other. I got courageous. I reached for her breasts and twirled her nipples too. Oh you bad girl, she said, kissing me wildly, what are you doing to me? She liked what I did to her. And I liked it that I could turn this powerful woman on.

I played with her nipples using hands and tongue. Oh, my sweetheart, she crooned, putting her head back. I massaged one breast, while I sucked on the other. She breathed deeply, closed her eyes, leaned back and stroked my head. I got quite into the act. She let me do what I wanted with her. My mouth moved from one nipple to the other, forth and back, while I held both breasts firmly in my hand kneading them gently. My little darling, she said to me, sighing deeply, I like what you are doing to me. Did you learn this in the convent? I blushed. No, I replied quickly, too quickly. Did a lover teach you? No. So it just bubbled out of you quite naturally? I see. This is promising. She gently stroked my hair, while I kissed her.

After a while, my lady sat up, bent my upper body over the sofa, and put one of my legs up onto the backrest of the couch. The other leg stayed firmly planted onto the floor. I was now wide open to her. Curiously, I did not mind. I rather liked it. I hoped that she would like my open lap and get carried away kissing it, the way I had kissed her breasts. She kissed the inside of my thighs first, starting at my knees, then came closer and closer to my lap. I was by now quite moist and full of longing to be touched. I lay half-sprawled on the sofa, my lap wide open. I felt the lady’s kisses intensely.

I took my leg off the floor and put it onto her shoulder, to pull her further into me and to give her even better access. I was simply lustful, horny. She looked at me with her green cat eyes. Honey, she murmured, in between kissing my lips, you are a revelation. This is wonderful. I now got the licking and sucking of my life. On top of kissing my lap, she played with my nipples. With one hand she unfolded and kissed my moist open lips, with the other she caressed my backside, especially my buttocks and furrow. She lingered at my tulip, rimming it with her finger. Oh, what is she doing, I thought. Then I felt one of her fingers enter me a bit. I cringed and sighed but did not resist. It felt weird but not bad.

I was out in never-never land, unable to think. I let her take me and do with me as she liked. After all, she is the experienced lady, I thought, let her teach me. Before long, I had my first orgasm. The woman held me tightly by my buttocks. She stayed glued to me with her large, red mouth during my noisy convulsions, lapping up my juices. With trembling thighs I fell back, exhausted. She went on stroking me until I calmed down again.

My lady got up once again to refill our glasses. I watched her move about. What a great body she has, I thought: fully mature. She stalked about, showing me all sides of herself. What a lovely bum she has, I thought next. I also found her triangular bushel of pubic hair enticing. It points in the right direction, I thought. I was getting all itchy. Her heavy breasts on which I had sucked with such abandon swung from side to side, nipples fat and long, as she walked about the room. I would not have thought a woman could excite me as much as my lady did. My fellow students did not excite me very much. They are too clumsy. But this woman knew all about love making. I was learning. Shall I do to her what she did to me by having her put one leg onto the backrest of the couch too? No, I could not bring myself to do it. Besides, what would my lady think. Yet on the other hand, how would it go if I did? What should I do? I will let myself be guided by her. She knows best what I need to do to excite her.

She sat down next to me again. I leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. You sweetie, she murmured. I knew it would be my turn now. From the side I looked at her lap. Will I manage to satisfy her? As if she read my thoughts or caught my glances, she laughed and said: relax, easy does it, sweetheart. I would like you to kiss me the way I kissed you. Just do to me what I did to you, honey.

I bent down and kissed her breasts again. She leaned back and lifted up one leg. The heel of her shoe dug into the back of the seat cushion. Her other leg was on the floor. I nearly swooned. Her whole lap lay open before me. Her thick lips were slightly open and moist. I opened them further. Then I flicked my tongue over her pleasure button. I sucked on it. When I came up to breathe, she would grab the back of my head, roughly, and push my head back into her open lap. Oh, honey, she whispered. I used my hands to open her more and kissed and licked her wildly. I knew the taste of pussy from playing with myself and some of my classmates. I opened her more and dug deeper into her with my tongue. She sighed deeply. I made cooing noises while licking her. She tasted so good, so familiar. Oh honey, she cried, I can barely stand what you are doing to me. I liked to hear that from a grown up woman. Am I such a pro, I asked myself? Can one be a pro without much experience? Maybe the lady was overreacting. I retreated a bit and kissed the inside of her thighs. She promptly angled her legs. I have some influence over her, I noticed. I pressed her legs further apart. Open up, I told her. It worked, she opened up more. The lady does what I tell her. The thought turned me on.

I lifted her knees high up, toward her face. She let me. I kissed and licked her buttocks now, from the rim of her stockings to her sex, leaving a wet trail. Then I attacked her clit again. My lady jumped when I touched it. Wonderful, I thought, I can be her lover. She lets me do things to her. She now holds her knees with her arms, showing me her glistening sex, her black pubic hair and the white flesh all around it. I lean back a bit to see and appreciate her more. She noticed. Are you a little connoisseur, she asked. I blushed. No, I replied, this is the first time. Oh, darling, kiss me some more, she said excitedly. Her words encouraged me. With eagerness I kissed her thighs, buttocks, tummy and especially her sex, which continually seemed to beckon and blink at me.

She held me there for over half an hour, interrupted only by occasional sips of champagne. Oh honey, she said, I love it when you spoil me. You are so good to me. If I am not careful, I will soon come. This encouraged me. She had made me have an orgasm, now it was my turn to give her one. I applied myself with diligence and tenacity, as she had planned. After another five minutes, she exploded. She uttered loud cries, at first in a low voice, then in a high, shrill voice. What will the neighbours think, I wondered. She pressed my head into her lap. Stay with me she shouted. I did. She smelled and tasted good. She finally had to tear me away from her lap. I cannot take another lick, she said. I am done for. That was wonderful, darling. I have not had such an intense orgasm for a long time. I liked to hear these words. I felt like an adult.

We both got up groggily. I was proud of myself for having given pleasure to a grown-up woman. And to a lady at that. And I was thankful for having received pleasure from the same woman, to an extent I would not have thought possible. Just then we both heard a door open in the background. Oh that will be my maid, the woman said dismissingly Don’t worry, she said, as I tried to cover up, she is also my lover. A knock at the door and in came the maid, a tall beautiful girl of around 20. She assessed the situation with one glance and did not seem surprised. She wore a very short black skirt that was cut out in the back to show her naked buttocks. Her black blouse revealed beautiful breasts. She wore shiny black stockings and pumps. The maid was obviously not surprised by what she saw. So I was not the lady’s first prey.

The maid looked at both of us. She greeted me with a kind of curtsy, while she looked at me meaningfully. She was beautiful. We assessed each other, not trying to be too obvious. In a way I was her rival for the attentions of her mistress. But that was a wrong assessment. As I was to find out soon later, when they both feasted on me rather than on each other! And feast is the right word. I do not know who was more passionate, lady or maid. They both did not let go of me. I was not inactive. In fact they seemed to compete for my favours.

The maid took our empty glasses and left the room. She returned with them filled. She swung her hips as she went out the door to the kitchen. The lady and I both looked at her backside, like two connoisseurs. You will like her, she whispered into my ear, she is a juicy morsel. The maid came back with tiny sandwiches. Whenever she bent down—and she did this frequently, on purpose, no doubt—my lady and I could see her thighs and the cheeks of her buttocks framed in black garters under her tiny black skirt. I was surprised to notice that she wore no panties. We could also see her pear-shaped breasts nearly fall out of her blouse, whenever she bent down, which she did frequently. The maid looked very appetizing, more so than her lady, who merely looked sexy. The maid was as tall as her mistress. I was quite a bit smaller than either of them. There we sat, I in the middle, chatting, drinking and laughing. Every so often, the lady of the house would put her hand on my knee and stroke it. After a while she left it there. I did not mind. On the contrary, it felt very good. The maid, whose skirt had also slipped up quite a bit to show her stockings enclose slim legs, imitated her mistress and began to caress my other knee. My suspicions hardened: they both wanted to seduce me. They wanted a ménage a trois!

The lady got up, and pulled me up too, when the maid next left the room. She led me to the side of the couch and bent me down over the armrest, so that my bum was the highest point she could see of me. Then she took a pillow, knelt behind me and began kissing my bum, my thighs and my buttocks. When the maid returned, she took in the scene at a glance. She went up to where my head was, lifted it, smiled at me, and sat down right in front me. She stroked my hair for a bit, then leaned back and put one leg onto the back of the couch. Her open lap was now right in front of my face. Clever pair, I thought woozily, they must have done this before.