Erotica: Summer Night: 4 Stories Collection

By Rod Polo

She wanted it rough and wild.
He could feel that she wanted, needed more, but I didn’t want to rush things.
She had to be patient and just enjoy the moment.
This time she was begging, repeatedly whispering, “Please”.

4 Erotic Short Stories Collection.

1. Daddy's Best Friend: My Personal Trainer
2. Best Friend’s Daughter: My Secretary
3. In Love with My Best Friend
4. The Best Friends

For Mature Audiences Only (18+)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rod Polo
• Release date: Aug 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005390549

Rod Polo

Rod Polo

Book preview

Daddy's Best Friend: My Personal Trainer

Brianna's fists were sore. She had been punching for more than an hour. She grimaced and shook her wrists, then gritted her teeth and punched the bag a few more times. The bag spun with the force of her punches and she had to pause to steady it into place. 

Let go of the bag. Her father was watching her, indifferent at her plight. Don't stop to steady the bag. It is supposed to move as you hit it. Your opponent will not be standing. Brianna took a deep breath and flexed her aching arms then started on another assault at the stupid punching bag. 

Do not let your opponent see your frustration, her father said. 

He paced around her as he spoke, observing her, making comments about the way she stood, the way she punched, the way she did everything. It was unnerving Brianna that he was making circles around her. She could barely even keep up with what he was saying. 

If you let your opponent see your frustration he will use that against you, he was saying. 

Keep your face passive and your mind clear. Direct your anger into your punches and your kicks. Strike fast, with fury and precision. 

Brianna clenched her jaw. How she wished it to be him that she was punching. 

Keep your torso firm and grounded. Use your feet to maintain the balance. Do not keep your legs rigid. Keep your base wide enough to provide stability, yet your feet nimble, ready to move anytime in any direction. 

He stepped up behind her and put his hands on her waist as if to steady her. Follow your opponent with your arms and feet, not your body. He held her upper body in place. Brianna grunted and launched a new attack. He let go of her and stepped aside when her elbow swung dangerously close to his jaw. 

Brianna's body ached. This was the third day of her training and she was ready to quit. She wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her quit. She hated how he always seemed to read her mind.

 It is not easy, he had said. You will quit. He had looked at her sternly as he said it. Now if she quit he would just gloat in his typical 'I told you so'. She could not give him that. Even if she died trying. She kept her face passive, hiding her thoughts, just like he had told her to. Inwards, she cursed and swore, at him, at the stupid tough punching bag, but mostly she cursed herself for being stupid enough to believe she could do this. She aimed at the punching bag one more time and delivered a straight fist. Her teeth rattled at the force of the punch. Her body jarred. The pain shot through her arm into her shoulder, then spread down to the rest of her body. Brianna felt the tears well up in her eyes. She bit them down, clenching her jaw. She would be damned before she cried. 

That's enough for today, he said suddenly. His voice was indifferent and cold. But to Brianna's ears it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard him say. She bent her body to support her hands on her knees. She was sweating, her body was hot, everything ached, and she was thirsty as hell. 

Go and take a rest, her father said. Tomorrow we start again. 

At those words, Brianna's celebration turned into an audible groan. 

Why couldn't he just let her be happy even for a moment? 

The training was Brianna's fault. She had asked him, even begged him to teach her kick-boxing. Brianna had been attending her father's matches since she was twelve. She had watched him fight, watched him win countless times, and watched him lose many times. What she admired was his resilience; he never seemed to give up. Brianna knew that was the reason why he won more than he lost. She wanted to be like him. She did not want to fight professionally; she had a dream career of her own. She just wanted the training. Brianna wanted to be strong and fit, like her father. She had also read that physical fitness kept one's mind sharp, and that was why she would not give up. No matter how difficult it was. 

Brianna left her father's personal gym and walked up the staircase to the house. She could not wait to lie down. But first she needed a shower.

Hey mom, Brianna waved to her mother reading a book on the couch. 

You look like hell darling, her mother said. You want me to tell him to go easy on you? 

Relax mom! I can handle it. I got this. But Brianna did not believe her own words. 

Her mother laughed. Okay, if you say so. 

She turned back to her reading and turned a page. Brianna headed for the bathroom. She changed her mind about the shower as soon as she saw the bathtub. She wanted a bath instead, a hot one. As she immersed her body into the hot water, Brianna felt her first satisfaction of the day. The heat burned her sore muscles. Brianna sighed. It felt too good. She closed her eyes, letting herself soak in the heat and the water. Steam rose from the tub all around her and mixed with the scent of her soap. Brianna breathed in the perfection. 

She was almost smiling as she rose moments later, and toweled herself. She did not feel like getting herself a supper. She just wanted to sleep. She headed for her bedroom in the towel. In her room she changed into a nightdress