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Jul 23, 2009 01:00 PM
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Welcome to the first meeting of the Fleshbot Book Club—your chance to get a sneak peek at some of the hottest erotic literature out now. Up first: "The Mile High Club," an anthology of plane sex stories.
The following excerpt is from "Urgent Message," Rachel Kramer Bussel's tale of inflight cybersex.
Brandon brings out the dirty girl inside me, the girl my straight-A, choir and track team member former self could never have imagined. Even now, I retain so much of my good-girl polish, at least on the outside. Before Brandon, I dated guys who would never think of wanting a lady on the streets and a whore in the bedroom. "Whore" probably wasn't even in their vocabulary, whereas Brandon loved to taunt me with it, whispering it in my ear as I teetered on that perilous, wondrous brink of orgasm, knowing that the prospect of being a woman of the night would send me crashing over the edge.
Where are your panties, young lady? was blinking on my screen-in red. Next thing I knew, he'd be going to all caps.
Just a sec, I typed, feeling a rush of wetness soak said item of clothing.
My panties were already skimpy to begin with; I like to travel wearing my sexiest undies to remind me that while I may not have my man with me, I have something to look forward to when I go home. In fact, most of my plain-Jane, boring cotton panties have gone by the wayside in favor of silk, satin, lace and mesh in a rainbow of colors. Brandon has made his mark all over my body, and in my dresser drawers.
I pondered how best to go about this. Removing my bra in the locker room in college without showing my tits was easier than this maneuver would be. I placed the laptop on the tray in front of me, then undid my seat belt, trying to be as silent as possible so as not to attract attention. I reached into the waistband of my skirt and pushed one edge of my panties down one hip, then did the same with the other.
I had to get them down far enough so that I could wiggle them the rest of the way with my legs. My face was hot, and surely blushing, as he continued to type away, the screen refreshing as I squirmed. I wish I could see you slithering out of those panties, wish I could see between your legs to what they were covering. Even though I just tasted you this morning, baby, I miss you already. It's just not the same without you, but I'm trying.
Tell me what you're doing. I have my panties halfway down my thighs, I typed back in a flash, grateful for all those years of temping that had gifted me with the ability to type one-hundred words per minute, or one-handed, if need be. I wiggled against the seat, shifting one leg and hip, then the other, as I felt my panties move slowly down my legs.
Excerpted from "The Mile High Club," an anthology of plane sex stories edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel and published by Cleis Press.
You can read reviews at Erotica Revealed and Adult Friend Finder.
The book is also on sale at Amazon.
Copyright (c) 2009 by Rachel Kramer Bussel.
If you're an author or a book publicist and you want to participate in the Fleshbot Book Club, send email to Lux Alptraum.
Send an email to Lux Alptraum, the author of this post, at lux@fleshbot.com.
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