The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 32: 11 Erotica Books

By AmorBooks.com

This is a massive collection of 11 Erotic Books for Women, an ultimate package consisting of 11 tremendously popular Erotic Short Stories for Women, by 11 different authors.

All of the 11 chosen books are exclusive to this specific collection, so even if you've purchased other volumes of ”The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection” you can rest assured that you will receive no duplicates between collections.

These are the 11 included books in this collection:

Odette Haynes - The Princess and the Poet

Alone In The House by Carla Burke

Sun Inn by Victoria Lawson

First Class Reunion by Diana Vega

Delightful Sting by Rose Boyd

Melinda, Stripper Extraordinaire by Inez Eaton

Holiday Romances by Kim Wilkerson

Girlfriend Sex Romp by Grace Barron

Love Renewed by Janet Bryant

Captain by Nellie Cross

Bedridden by Jean Mathis

Whether you prefer romantic erotica, light erotica, or really hardcore stories you will surely be satisfied as this collection is a mix of the best of the best across many different erotica genres.

Simply put: If you have even the slightest interest in reading great Erotica specifically written for women readers, you are going to LOVE this collection!

Warning: This story is intended for adult readers 18 years of age or older. It contains explicit language and graphic sexual content.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AmorBooks.com
• Release date: Jan 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005883034

AmorBooks.com

AmorBooks.com publishes sizzling erotica and romance stories that pack a punch.With over 40 authors under our umbrella it doesn't matter if you prefer cosy romance stories, light erotica, or really hardcore stories - you are bound to find something you like.

Book preview

The Ultimate

Erotic Short Story Collection 32

11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women

by AmorBooks.com

Copyright 2021 AmorBooks.com

Distributed by Smashwords

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Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and is intended for those over the age of 18 only.

***

Table of Contents

The Princess and the Poet

Alone In The House

Sun Inn

First Class Reunion

Delightful Sting

Melinda, Stripper Extraordinaire

Holiday Romances

Girlfriend Sex Romp

Love Renewed

Captain

Bedridden

A Most Potent List

The Princess and the Poet

by

Odette Haynes

The lecture hall was filled with attentive students. It was located in one of the old buildings of the college, so the long benches that ran around the curved seating area were wooden and hard, and unforgiving on the supple backsides of the students.

The seats stretched out and before them was an open floor with a small lectern and a massive blackboard that spanned the length of the wall, where Mr. William Ryan stood, his hand a blur as it slid across the blackboard, writing sonnets.

The chalk made a loud clacking sound as it rapped against the surface of the board, and the auditorium was alive with sound of students scribbling notes down on paper. The chamber had large windows near the ceiling so the sun streamed through and bathed the room in a warm glow; it was so bright that the soft wisps of clouds were barely visible.

All the students apart from one were furiously writing in their notepads. Melissa, in contrast, was sat about halfway up the seats, leaning forward on her desk with her chin resting on her hand. Her dark brown hair cascaded down, the strands brushing against the desk as she tilted her head and sighed.

She looked down dreamily at William, biting her lip as she imagined them alone in the room. She’d walk up to him and take off his glasses, losing herself in the opalescence of his eyes. Then, gripped by an intangible fervor she would cast aside all inhibitions and whisk him in her arms, and after he ravished her body they would lay outside, letting the sun tickle their naked skin, and he would cradle her in his arms while he read her the poetry he was so passionate about.

"Melissa," he’d say, and his deep, masculine voice would warm the most distant parts of her soul.

Melissa, he actually said, repeatedly, until she was shaken from her idyllic fantasy. As his sonorous, powerful voice spoke her name it was almost as if he gave life to it, as if her name was more than a word and when it escaped his lips it flew away, like an eager bird taking its first flight. She visibly swooned, and squirmed as a hot flush spread between her legs. Then she was conscious of being under the scope of everyone’s eyes, and her cheeks had a vivid scarlet glow.

She coughed and bowed her head, letting her hair fall forward to obscure the view to her embarrassment.

Is everything okay? he asked sternly, it was more of an accusation rather than a question with any genuine concern.

Yes sir, she replied, trying to keep her voice steady, but it wavered, and felt small in the great hall.

Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me what you think the writer meant with this verse? he asked, his cool blue eyes piercing through the glasses. She smiled and looked down at her paper, which was useless because there wasn’t anything written on it, but she wanted to make a show of it. She twisted the end of her pen and looked up at the ceiling, then back down at the blackboard, glancing at the words written.

Well, obviously- she began, but was cut off almost immediately.

Aside from the obvious, William said dryly. Melissa paused and stammered. She could feel the prickles of anxious sweat beginning to form under the weight of expectation. William’s eyes bore into her, and there was a subtle murmuring and giggling from some of the students surrounding her.

Her mind was a blank slate and it was as if all the knowledge had been sucked out and replaced with nothing but a floating, undulating, incoherent mass of foggy images and words that made no sense. However, just as she was about to stammer out an answer the bell sounded and echoed around the great hall. Melissa breathed a sigh of relief but William’s shoulders fell. The rest of the class quickly rose and packed their things away.

Melissa, could you see me for a minute, William said, raising his voice so he could be heard over the swelling noise. The herd of students left and with it the noise diminished; the sounds of chattering fading away as the students dispersed and went their separate ways.

Melissa slowly packed up her things, her cheeks reddening as she glanced at the imposing figure of William standing at the front of the room. The last few students left, so they were the only two remaining. How long she had yearned to be in this situation. Many times, night and day, she had dreamed of being called back and then he would tell her that it was torture for him to see her sitting there every day, to be so close and yet so far from his touch, and he just couldn’t take it anymore and he had to have her, damn the consequences.

But she felt entirely small, and any confidence was sapped from her and she knew her fantasies would never come to pass. William waited expectantly as she gathered up her possessions, and her small footsteps clacked against the wooden surface of the auditorium, making her feel very self-conscious.

She carefully walked down the steps, holding her pad and textbook in her arms, trying to use them as a protective shield as William loomed larger. Up in her seat it was easy to forget how tall the man was, and as she approached him she had to lift her head just to look him in the eyes. His expression was stern, and his eyes like ice.

Is your heart really in this class? he asked, his voice betraying no hint of emotion.

Of course, she said, shocked.

Really? Because any time I look at you you’re far away, and whenever I ask you a question you never seem to be able to answer. I want my students to engage with the material, I want them to try and get a sense of the same passion I feel for it, but if you’re not enjoying it or interested in it then I’m not sure why you bother showing up.

His words weren’t angry, but she could sense the disappointment in his voice. If only she could tell him why her mind was drifting away, if only she could summon the courage to take the few steps forward and whisper his name then maybe things would be different and he could understand…but no. She looked down at the floor, ashamed.

I think I’ve shown in my essays that I do care… she said, the words slipping out of her mouth as softly as a mouse scurrying across a kitchen floor. They were true though, she had done excellent work.

That’s the most frustrating thing because your grades are excellent, some of the best in the class and I know you do have a love of the material. But I can’t understand why you don’t show it in class. It’s all well and good being able to write good essays, but participation is just as important and I don’t want anyone to feel like they can simply coast through my class. I need to see an improvement, understood?

Yes sir, she said, her voice sounding hollow in the large chamber. There was so much else she wanted to say, so much she wanted him to hear but she could only muster those two words. She felt strangely intimate with him in that moment though, and the hollow words quickly faded in the abyss. She stayed for an awkward moment too long until he made it clear with a twitch of his face that he was done with her for the moment. She walked out and as she did so she brushed against him.

The feeling of touching him sent a spark through her, and she had to quench the urge to sigh as they came together. It was so painful for her, because even the roughest touch from him was as yearned for as a gentle caress, but their contact lasted only for the briefest moment and then she was back to being forever isolated from him. It was silly, and she chastised herself for it, but as she walked out of the lecture hall she wiped away a stray tear that was trickling down her cheek.

As she walked away William watched her, and shook his head.

With no more classes for the day, Melissa went to the library and spent her customary few hours studying devoutly. With a pile of books by her side she tried not to scowl at the other students who treated the library as a social club, but she wasn’t entirely successful. There was a particular group who were particularly rowdy, and no amount of glaring or heavy sighs dissuaded them from their loud volume. In all honesty though, they weren’t the main reason why Melissa couldn’t concentrate.

Her thoughts kept drifting back to her brief meeting with William, and she couldn’t help but remember the disappointment in his voice. It hurt her to know that she had made him feel that way, because all she wanted was to make him happy and to show him her true feelings. She dreaded to think what he must think of her.

As she walked through campus she saw that the sun had dipped down to where it straddled the horizon. The clouds burst with vibrant sunlight and she had to squint, for her hands were busy holding books so she couldn’t raise them to block out the sunlight. People moved about around her, and once again it felt as though she were completely alone.

Everyone else seemed to have their own social circles, but Melissa was on the periphery of them all. She had some acquaintances but no-one she could call a close friend. It had been difficult to integrate herself into the social scene because she still lived at home, whereas the vast majority of the other students lived in dorms. It plagued her, and she so badly wished to leave but she was trapped, and her personal situation hung around her neck like a noose, and it seemed to be getting tighter day by day.

She reached her bicycle and dumped her books into the front basket, but as she went to do so her grasp slipped and the books tumbled out over the floor. The pages were bent and scrunched and the edges of the books were scuffed. The library wouldn’t be happy about the condition they were in when she returned them.

She cursed, and brushed her hair back away from her face, but the strands instantly resumed their place and annoyingly crowded her face. She piled the books into the basket, running out of patience and not particularly caring about the position they were in, so they were stacked haphazardly, the edges poking above the rim. She undid the lock and then sat on the saddle and rode away, and actually smiled as the balmy air washed over her face.

Melissa rode slowly, enjoying the gentle ride and even took a bit of a detour, just so she could spend longer on the road, and to delay her arrival home. However, the light began to dwindle and the twilight world ushered her home.

She let the inertia take her smoothly down the hill leading to her house and then swung in, hopping off the bike and landing softly on the grass. She wheeled the bike past the front and kicked open the back gate, chaining the bike to a pipe that hung on the side of the house. She took her books out and opened the door, which creaked its usual creak, and she entered the house.

I’m home, she shouted, but no-one responded. The kitchen was empty but there was a pot of soup on the stove. Melissa set the books down on a table and swirled a spoon around the pot and brought it to her mouth, blowing on the soup to cool it down before letting it slide down her throat. It was still piping hot, so the burning sensation travelled down along with the soup and she winced a little bit.

Her stomach was aching so she raided the fridge for some quick snacks. There wasn’t any time to cook anything because she wanted to get to her room as quickly as possible. After grabbing some cold meat she took the books in her arms again and ran upstairs, but just before she made it to her room her mother stepped out of the bathroom.

Back late again aren’t you? she asked, hitching up her pants.

I had some work to do, Melissa replied, looking to end the conversation quickly so she could retreat to the safe haven of her room.

Mmm, what’s his name? her mother asked. Melissa flushed red.

Whose?

I don’t believe for a second you’re spending this time doing work, you aren’t smart enough for that, besides, with a body like yours you got no need for work. Find yourself a rich man and be done with it, she said, the words just as disgusting as her yellow teeth.

Don’t know why you even bother with this education nonsense, you’re just going to end up knocked up in the next few years like me, with one baby hanging off each tit. Don’t know where you got the idea you were special from, she mumbled.

Her voice was shrill and Melissa could barely work up the courage to even look at the shadowy skin and the short, thinning hair that sat atop her grotesque face. Meekly, Melissa ran into her room without saying a word and shut the door behind her, leaning against it and sinking down to the floor. Her mother took a drag of a cigarette and blew out a long stream of smoke, smiling contentedly before making her way downstairs.

Melissa eventually dragged herself up and crawled over to her desk. She opened the books and began to work. Work was the only escape she had and somehow she managed to push away every dark thought about her personal life and focus on her homework.

The other escape was, of course, William, and she had the fantasy of him being the gallant knight who would rescue her from all of this. Often it brought her comfort to think of that scenario, but after the dressing down she received from him today it seemed to be nothing but a foolish romantic notion, and if anything it only made her sadder. She managed to concentrate on her work until she heard a car drive up and a heavyset man got out; her father was home.

She heard the door slam downstairs and she tensed herself, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he paid her his daily visit. His footsteps were a stomp, and it was like she was a prisoner trapped in a giant’s lair. He walked through the house and found the kitchen, and Melissa heard him curse as he realized it was soup and then the pot crashed down on the floor, the noise rang around her ears. Her mother screamed, her father screamed back.

All my hard work gone to waste!

What you cooked is waste. Get me a proper meal damn you.

I can only work with what I’ve got, maybe if you didn’t spend so much on booze I’d have enough for a juicy steak once in a while.

The thin walls hid nothing of their conversation and Melissa had to listen to it all, even the parts where the shouting subsided and they came together, and their frenzied screams carried through the house as they indulged their carnal desires. Melissa tried to concentrate on her work but the words could not overpower the noises coming from downstairs, even when she pressed her hands against her ears.

Now make me some proper food, she heard her father say in his rough voice after it was over. Then she heard his footsteps on the floor. Each one was as foreboding as a bell counting down to doomsday. She braced herself when they got closer, and then the handle to her door turned and she heard it swing open, although she didn’t turn around to look.

And how’s my darling daughter today? he said. She didn’t need to turn around to know that his thin lips were twisted into an ugly smug grin. Giving me the silent treatment today, eh? he added when Melissa didn’t respond. He stepped forward and stood over her. He stunk of alcohol and sweat and grime.

What’s this you’re working on?

Poetry, she replied. He scoffed.

It’s important, she said.

It’s rubbish. Who cares what some poncy English guy wrote two hundred years ago. I thought going to college meant you were going to study something useful so that you could start to repay your mother and me for everything we’ve done for you over the years. Melissa bit her tongue to hold back an argument. Nothing good would come from arguing back.

Let me see this, he said, and before she could react he pulled up the book she was working from. He read out some poetry, putting on his best English accent and laced the words with obvious disdain. When he was finished he spat on the floor.

This is what you’ve spent so much money on? This rubbish is what you’re studying? What is this going to teach you about life? he roared.

More than you ever could, she said, unable to stop the words from slipping out, and even though they were nothing but a whisper he pounced on them, and she regretted speaking them as soon as she realized she had done it. He tilted his head and looked at her.

More than I… and then his expression turned sour and the rage took hold of him, that old familiar companion that reared its ugly head and swelled up inside him, erupting just like a volcano.

I’ll teach you a lesson, he growled, and began ripping out the pages to her book. When she heard the pages tear she turned around in a flash and leapt up, struggling to get the book out of his hands, but he forced her away and continued clawing at the book. The fragments of paper fluttered helplessly through the air and the words the pages contained were separated into meaningless groups of letters, the essence that bound them together was no more, and the poetry was lost.

When her father was finished it was as if snow had fallen around, such was the extent to which he had attacked the book. His face was red and he was breathing heavily, and the anger that had possessed him was subsiding.

There’s your lesson, he growled, and let the remnants of the book he was holding fall harmlessly to the floor. He turned and walked out. Melissa rushed forward and shut the door behind him, then fell to the floor and searched through the pieces of paper, hoping that somehow she could put it all back together again. It wasn’t long before she gave up, and she curled up into a ball, sobbing into her pillow.

***

Sleep didn’t refresh her, and the next day she splashed water onto her face when she woke to try and cleanse away the sadness in her soul, but it didn’t work. Even the bright sunshine seemed to have lost its allure. She picked up an apple and crunched it while she rode to college, although she didn’t know why she had to bother since William would be displeased with her.