Short & Sweet: Quick Erotic Reads

By Anne Frye

Sometimes you only have a few moments to yourself. A quick commute on the train or a five minutes hiding away in the bathroom...Here are five shorts that will help get you there quick.

A Cold Winter’s Day" A chance encounter at a coffee shop leads to some much needed warmth.

Needs: Sometimes you just need it, regardless of the risk.

Waiting: On my knees, waiting for you, but for how long?

Solo Play: A hot autumn night and a man who could hit all the right spots.

Hammock Time: Camping can be in tents. And a hammock is just an outdoor sex swing, right?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anne Frye
• Release date: Jan 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005654276

Anne Frye

Anne Frye, also writing as Andi Frye and A.E. Frye, grew up on the east coast and now lives in the Pacific Northwest. . She grew up on the coast of Maine and now lives in the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys exploring sex and relationships in all their different forms, from married couples to threesomes, foursomes and more, often with a little light bondage or impact play thrown in. She loves tacos and noodles equally, so please don't ask her to choose. See what she is working on now at her website or on Instagram (@annefryewrites)

Book preview

On a cold winter’s day

First published on readaurore.com December 2019

The bell rings merrily as I push open the shop door. I’m overwhelmed by the warm scents of leather, furniture polish, and the faint but welcome aroma of pipe tobacco. Over all of it is the heady smell of fresh coffee wafting in from the cafe next door.

We met in that cafe, reaching for the same drink. An Americano with cream. Our hands touched, just barely. Electricity. We laughed and of course he insisted he would wait for the next one. His eyes held me captive and we both ended up waiting. The small talk I usually find so awkward was easy with him. The weather, the traffic.

We see each other several more times, once even sitting to drink our matching coffees, knees barely touching under the tiny cafe table. I confess to him that coffee is my little reward for getting through another battery of tests at the doctor’s office. He raises an eyebrow, You’re here so often though? He looks worried. Auto-immune disease, they say, which means they really don’t know, but they want to keep doing tests. So I will keep drinking coffee, I tell him. He takes my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. My shop is just next door, if you ever need anything. Anything at all, he says.

He seems surprised to see me, but immediately puts his phone away and comes toward me, a smile on his face. My own face is cold from the biting wind outside, my eyes wide with