Erotic Stories by December: A Volume 1 Collection: Erotic Stories by December, #1

By December Davenport

This book is a collection of short steamy stories, featuring five short stories of young women of color and their sexual escapades. A young woman's obsession with her twin sister's husband will lead her down a lustful path of desperation. A mercenary gets more than he bargained for when he finds himself infatuated with the beautiful woman he is sent to kill. A vampire has a lust for life so strong, it could kill her. A young woman is preparing for her first time with the boy of her dreams and another, haunted by the memories of her ex-lover who will reclaim what's his, no matter the cost. Indulge in the first volume of short erotic stories by December, all in one place!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hardy Publications
• Release date: Mar 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393025887

December Davenport

When night falls, the bad girls come out to play. December Davenport brings you steamy stories of love, lust, and passion. 18+

Book preview

Alicia

Istood at the edge of the parking garage, in a blind spot where the cameras could not reach. Waiting, patiently and quietly for my next assignment. I could hear the faint sounds of footsteps coming towards me. My reflexes kicked in, alerting me to turn around just as he approached me. Standing at 5'8 and wearing an ash-colored suit, Agent Matthews reached into his blazer to reveal a manila folder.

Your final assignment. You have one week. He handed me the folder, as I reached to retrieve it from his hands.

Will do, sir, I replied. He walked away, headed to a black BMW with tinted windows that sat waiting for him at the other end of the level. I waited for the vehicle to drive away before I went back to my car. As I entered my silver Toyota, I opened the folder to view my next assignment and final target. Alicia Davis. A young woman with jet black hair. Skin, dark, and smooth like rich cocoa. 5'4, 260 lbs. Born on the 22nd of November 1989. Raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, and currently residing in Baltimore, Maryland. The leader of the Black Life Resistance, and the last one alive.

Twenty people formed this resistance, and nineteen were dead. All staged to look like accidents or isolated gang shootings. I was hired by the FBI to take them out. A military vet and trained assassin who had only one job. To dismantle this group of extremists, one murder at a time. I peered down at the photo of this young woman, unable to turn away. My eyes were glued to her like I was stuck in a trance. I ran the tip of my thumb across the smooth surface of the paper, trying to unravel all I could about this woman. This dangerous, fearless, and beautiful woman.

IT WAS NINE O'CLOCK at night. I waited at the bar inside Donnie's nightclub for my target to arrive. I had been following her social media accounts under a fake profile with an untraceable IP address. As I stalked her daily activity behind the screen, I found myself browsing through her photos for hours on end. Something about this woman had me drawn to her in ways that I had never been drawn to any woman before. Getting close to my targets wasn't exactly apart of my job description, but I was willing to do whatever it took to finish the job. Tonight would be my first time seeing her in person, and the last time if everything went according to my plan. The music blasted through the speakers, and bodies filled the dancefloor. Shaking, grinding, full of alcohol, and any cheap street drug they could get their hands on. I sat there with a full glass of Stella Artois and a .38 with a silencer tucked inside of my jacket, trying to blend in with the crowd. I knew it would be any minute now. Just as I lifted my glass to take a sip, that's when I saw her. To my left, walking in my direction towards the bar. A white dress hugged her plus-size body in all the right ways, stopping right above her knees. Her long braids draped over her right shoulder, and I could see the shine from her lip gloss sparkle from twelve feet away. Those photos were nothing in comparison to what I saw before me. Alicia Davis wasn't just a beautiful woman. She was a fucking goddess, and I was enraptured by every ounce of melanin that dripped from her presence.

Sex on the beach please. Make it ice cold. Alicia leaned over, getting the attention of the bartender. She was inches away from me, smelling even better than she looked. Like candied roses.

Coming right up. The bartender smiled and prepared her drink. I sat with my eyes forward, trying my best to pretend I didn't notice her as I continued to sip from my glass. I could feel her eyes on me, and a chill fluttered through my insides.

Hi. Her soft voice greeted me. I wasn't expecting this but decided to play along.

Hello. I turned to make eye contact. The corner of her mouth raised, as her eyes were glued to mine. I couldn't smile back. I couldn't make any attempt to get personal or make myself vulnerable to my target.  The bartender returned with her drink, and I watched as she chugged each sip. The way the liquid flowed down her throat turned me on. She sat the glass back down and turned back to face me.

I'm Alicia.

I paused before I gave her my alias. Elliot.

Nice to meet you Elliot. I loved the way my name rolled off of her tongue.

Likewise. I took another sip from my drink.

She looked out on to the dancefloor, and back at me. Let's dance... Would you like to dance with me? She brushed her body against my arm, and I felt a yearning rush shoot through my veins. I had to decline. But I couldn't resist, and she knew it.

I'd love to. A grin formed slightly on my face, as she grabbed my arm and led me to the dancefloor. We squeezed through the crowd, making our way to the center. The DJ played a remix of Give it Up to Me by Sean Paul, and I felt Alicia's body move in on mine. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, swaying her body around as our eyes were set on one another. Her brown eyes melted into my soul, as my dick became erect, poking at my zipper from the inside of my pants. Only a few minutes. I told myself, trying to keep my mind right and focused on my mission. But the more she gyrated against me, the more I wanted her. I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her close enough that my dick pressed against her crotch. I could tell this excited her, because she reached down, grabbing it from the outside. She leaned her face against my ear, her warm breath grazed my eardrums.

Wanna get out of here? She whispered seductively to me. Within ten minutes, my mission had been compromised by this thick temptress. I was here to kill her, not fuck her. But the way her round ass felt cupped into the palm of my hand, my .38 would have to wait.

WE ARRIVED BACK AT her apartment, buzzed and ready for whatever. Once inside, she tossed her keys on the coffee table that sat a few feet away from us. It was a studio space, so her bed was only another few feet away from us. Turning to face me, she clung to my arms, placing her soft lips on mine. I felt her tongue glide into my mouth as I sucked on her bottom lip. Our lips parted, and she ran her hands down the sleeve of my shirt, grasping my hand. I hesitated, knowing that I was crossing the line. But I had to have her, even if it ended with me washing her blood off my hands by dawn. She noticed my stalling, looking up at me with furrowed brows.

What's wrong? She asked, innocently.

I inhaled and exhaled softly, before revealing my secret to her. My leg. It's a prosthetic. I watched her expression go blank, as the anxiety from my disability crept over me. My arm too. My eyes fell to the floor, unsure if she would accept me or turn me away, disgusted.

show me. She uttered, reaching over my shoulders to remove my jacket.

I suddenly remembered my gun and grabbed her hands before she could get it off of me. I gently pushed her arms back down to her sides, removing my jacket myself, and laying it across the coffee table. She ran her hands down the sleeves of my blue button-up, moving her focus to my left arm when she realized that it was prosthetic. She took my hand up to her mouth, wrapping her plump lips around the index and middle finger of my artificial hand. My face turned crimson. Although I couldn't feel her wet mouth sucking against my limb, my body lit up like a volcano ready to erupt. She let go of my hand and began to unbuckle my pants. She got down on her knees, pulling my pants down along with her.

I heard a faint sound coming from her mouth, as she caressed my prosthetic leg. She didn't flinch, she didn't gag. All the other women before her wouldn't get past the arm before sending me away. They were repulsed by me, but not Alicia. She was aroused.

Admiring my mark of bravery and accepting of me at my most vulnerable. My dick stood erect, dripping with precum as she took hold of it. She ran her tongue from the shaft to the tip before taking all nine inches into her mouth. I moaned loudly, gripping the back of her head with my right hand. Watching her suck and slurp, massaging my shaft while she went to work had put me in a sexual trance that I never wanted to come out of.

Come here, I called to her tenderly, motioning for her to get