Confessions of an Erotic Author Part Two: Young, Single, and Liberated: Confessions of an Erotic Author, #2

By P.T. Brown

Pixie's back!

 

University was fun—a lot of fun. But when it ended, I soon discovered that a young, twenty-something, sexually liberated single girl living in the big city could find even more ways to enjoy herself.

 

I was focused on my job, carefully separating my new career from my relentless pursuit of sexual pleasure, leading a double life as P during the day and Pixie at night.

 

My second collection of short stories focuses on the first year of my life after graduating. I move into my first home, find regular sex with the guy who lives next door, and find a highly exclusive "adult" club in the city, packed full of beautiful, sexy, and very, very wealthy people. A club which welcomes me with open arms and results in nights of overwhelming pleasure.

 

Eventually, after agreeing to take part in a charity auction at the club, I find myself on a yacht moored off the coast of Monaco for a very erotic weekend with a couple of the club's most attractive and elusive members. A weekend I'll never forget.

 

This book contains graphically narrated sex scenes between characters over 18, including sex between groups and bisexual (girl-on-girl) sex.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Guinea Pig Publishing
• Release date: Nov 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223367574

P.T. Brown

P.T.Brown is an author of erotic fiction, with a full-time career doing something completely different. She's active on a variety of platforms, including Medium and Substack, and is easily found on social media, including X, Instagram, and on her own website. Most stories feature strong women, who choose what they want, when, and from whom. Some scenes are left a little to the imagination, others are very much not.

Book preview

Foreword

Welcome back! Or just welcome, depending on whether this is your first visit to my erotic confessions or a return to my tales following part one.

University was fun, some might say too much fun. As with all things, it came to an end, and I had to grow up and get a job. Thankfully, despite all of my sexual distractions, I’d graduated well and had a number of job offers, and I took the one that led little me to the city.

What follows here is a collection of my early post-university tales. From casually sleeping with my next-door neighbour, finding a sex-club which welcomed me with open arms, to eventually having a very erotic weekend on a Yacht in Monaca after allowing my body to be auctioned for charity.

Sufficed to say there’s more, and they will follow in another instalment.

I hope you enjoy.

P. xx

October 2012 – A brave new world

Iwas a lucky girl . Straight out of University, I landed my dream job in the city.

My weekends of sex with my ex's dad came to a natural and friendly conclusion some time ago, as we had both expected. He'd started seeing someone his age, and we didn't think she would approve of him fucking his son's ex-girlfriend, especially as I was half his age. I didn't mind. I wanted to see him happy. Though I did extend the offer that if it doesn't work out and he wanted a hot twenty-something-year-old to ride his cock, to let me know.

My friend Emma, who I'd been sleeping with throughout University, had landed a modelling contract abroad and left the country shortly after our exams. I missed her, but she was doing the same thing as I was. We were following our dreams.

My new job was hours from my parent's home, so armed with an income, savings, and inheritance, I rented a little first-floor apartment in the city. It wasn't anything grand. I was twenty-two, single, and just starting out in life. Still, it had everything I needed: two bedrooms, a kitchen, a small lounge, and a little balcony overlooking the river and a large park where I could sit and watch the world go by when it wasn't raining.

Throughout University, I'd kept my public life separate from my sex life. If you have been reading along, you will know that I have quite the sexual appetite and quite a few kinks, which despite the fact the world is supposed to be moving on, risked branding me a slut, or similar, so I focused on my new job and consciously put my sexual urges on the back burner for a while. Or at least, that was the plan. Young girl, big city, high libido, let's be honest, we know I wouldn't be good for long.

The little block of apartments I lived in had two on each of its four floors. Over the first few weeks of living there, I'd seen a few people on the staircase and exchanged smiles but had only really spoken to the guy next door to me, Andy. Even then, it was only a 'hello' and a quick introduction. He appeared a few years older than me and was quite good-looking.

Once I was settled at work, and the fog of sorting out bills, buying furniture and making the place my own started to lift, I'd been in my apartment for a month. Then the July sun (finally) arrived, giving me my first real chance to sit on my little balcony with a book and a bottle of wine in the sun - one of the reasons I'd rented this apartment in the first place.

On Saturday morning, I went to the gym (I'd been having sex with a beautiful lingerie model for a few years - so I'd picked up some good habits and worked on keeping my body fit and attractive), grabbed a sandwich for lunch from the deli on the corner, then wandered along the river back home. I slipped into my bikini, grabbed a coffee, and went onto my balcony to catch some sun.

I had some privacy. There was obscured glass around the balcony's edge (hence the bikini), but I could be seen from the river and the park if I stood. Not that it mattered, of course. As I stood on my balcony in the sun looking across the park, I could see many women in bikinis, or at least bikini tops and shorts, lying on the grass, soaking up the much-awaited summer sun.

I watched the people in the park while enjoying my coffee, then ate lunch and settled in the sun with my book. About half an hour or so later, I started to hear noises. Familiar, sexual noises. I looked up from my book, trying to work out their source. Eventually, it dawned on me. Andy had his balcony doors open. I couldn't see onto his balcony, nor him onto mine, but the noises weren't coming from far away.

I put my book down and listened intently, concentrating on the sounds coming from the next apartment and trying to tune into them over the sounds coming from the park. Eventually, I heard Andy's visitor moan. It was the same familiar moan I'd let out so many times before as a cock slipped into me. I closed my eyes, imagining Andy was about to fuck me senseless. I slid down into my chair a little, shielded from view by the obscured glass, slid my fingers into my bikini and began massaging my clit. I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip as I heard Andy begin to grunt and his visitor whimper with pleasure as they got up to speed.

Andy was like a fucking machine, or so it sounded. I lay there playing with myself slowly as he relentlessly pounded his cock into his lover, stopping occasionally for a position change, I assumed, before they started again.

This wasn't what I needed. So far, I'd been cautious about focusing on my new job and home and not letting my sex drive intervene. It wasn't their fault, of course. They were just having sex in the next apartment. Loud, hot, relentless sex. Eventually, Andy became louder and came hard in whoever it was he was fucking, who, by the sound of things, loved every second of the pounding he'd given them. I can't blame him. I would have, too.

I heard one of them step out onto the balcony. I knew they couldn't see me, but removed my fingers from my clit, just in case. My door knocked as I sat sipping my wine and trying to calm down. This was new. Nobody had knocked before. I went inside and peered through the peephole. It was Andy.

Hi, P, he said as I opened the door to him. Sorry, this sounds really cliche, but do you have any sugar I can borrow? I could murder a cup of tea.

He was topless, wearing only shorts, sweating slightly, and dripping with the scent of sex. I'd have let him take me right there and then if he'd asked.

Erm, yeah, come in a second, I replied, distracted by his body and trying not to let on what I'd just heard him doing.

He came inside, and I poured some sugar into a small bowl with my back to him. As I turned, I could have sworn he was admiring, or at least looking at, my bikini-clad body.

Here you go, I said politely. A little embarrassed at having been playing with myself while I listened to him fuck someone only ten minutes ago.

He took the bowl and looked at me, giving me a cheeky smile.

What? I asked, smiling back at him.

Just admiring, he said, glancing at my body.

Wouldn't your friend have something to say about that? I asked, nodding towards his apartment, letting him know I heard them.

Oh, no, we're just friends, he replied.

I didn't even give myself time to think. My sex drive took over immediately. Well, you know where I am, I replied, flirting.

He stared into my eyes momentarily, smiled, and headed for the door.

He took one last look at me as he left. I saw it. Then I smiled to myself and went back to my balcony, my book, and my wine.

That night, I went out with my new girlfriends from work. It was important to make friends if only vanilla ones, so I'd jumped at the chance to go out with them. As expected, the conversation was polite, funny, and friendly. I was settling into my new life well, and, still horny from the afternoon's attention and with a little more wine in my system than I had planned, I told myself that maybe I could indulge in a little sexy fun when the chance arose. It wouldn't hurt.

Later in the evening, one of my new work colleagues insisted that a few of them see me home since it was my first time out in the big city alone. We walked along the river to my apartment, laughing and joking. Then, they carried on toward the nearest tube station after seeing me inside.

As I walked up the stairs to my apartment, I cast a look at Andy's front door. I wondered if he was in. I wondered if he wanted to fuck me. In any other scenario, I'd have knocked and found out. But he was my new neighbour, and we had to live beside each other for a while. I didn't fancy doing anything that could make things awkward, so despite being slightly drunk and very horny, I simply slid my finger silently across his front door as I passed, then opened my door and went inside, grabbed myself a large glass of water, and went out onto my balcony to enjoy the nighttime view across the city.

I was leaning over, resting on the rail, when I heard a voice from my right.

Evening.

I looked across, and Andy was standing, leaning slightly over his balcony, also with a drink.

Evening, I replied with a smile.

Good night? he asked.

Yeah, girls from work. Just making friends, I replied.

I watched you all walk down the river. Seem friendly enough, Andy said. Oh, and nice dress, by the way. You stood out.

I looked down at myself. I'd gone with something a little more conservative, given I was out with work colleagues and trying to make a good impression, but it was still short enough to show off my legs quite well.

Thanks, I replied. Not my normal style, but trying to fit in. For now, at least.

What's your normal style? he asked softly.

'He's flirting' - I thought. Less fabric, I replied suggestively.

Oh? How much less?

That really depends on what I want from the evening.

And this evening, you just wanted to make friends and have a laugh?

"I did, yes," I said, opening the door for him to ask his real question.

Is there anything you want now? he asked softly.

I turned away and looked across the city. I'm in the wrong dress for what I want now, I said seductively.

You could change, he said. If you wanted to get something else from the evening, too.

I finished my water slowly and turned to face him.

Knock for me in ten, I said, smiling. Andy nodded, and I went inside.

Nine minutes and thirty seconds later, I'd been to the toilet, touched up my makeup, ditched my bra, changed into a barely-there red microdress, brushed my hair, and was ready for Andy. He knocked. I waited a few seconds and walked across my apartment, letting my heels click slightly as I approached the door.

I opened it wide, allowing him a full view of my dress, what little of it there was, and the rest of my body.

Fuck, he said softly, admiring me.

If you insist, I replied sweetly, taking his hand and pulling him inside.

I'd barely closed the door when he pressed me against it, kissing me deeply and running his hands all over my body.

And this, dear reader, is where the difficulties started - for me at least. You see, Andy, bless him, was clearly into the sweet, hot, slightly horny 'girl-next-door' in the little dress before him. He knew he was on a promise. I'd made that abundantly clear to him. However, what he didn't know was that the sweet little 'P' he was about to fuck had a wilder, kinkier, dirtier side (I call her Pixie - if you remember) that needed an itch scratching too. I had a choice here: let Pixie out and risk my neighbour learning a little too much about me when we'd only just met, or alternatively, have a nice quick fuck and allow Pixie out of her box more discreetly sometime soon.

Even fuelled by alcohol, I sensibly went with the first option, hoping that at the very least I'd get a good hard seeing to, similar to that he gave the woman he'd fucked in his apartment earlier today.

By the time I'd considered all of this, my legs were open slightly, and his hand slid up the inside of them, his tongue still exploring my mouth. His thumb grazed my clit through my thong, and I sighed happily at my first sexual contact in a few weeks.

I pushed him away and peeled my dress over my head as he watched, eyes glistening as I dropped it to the floor. Then I turned my back to him, put my fingers in my waistband and pulled down my thong, bending at the waist and exposing my ass to him. He stepped forward and put his hands on