Best Women’s Erotica 2010

Welcome back to the Fleshbot Book Club-your chance to get a sneak peek at some of the hottest erotic literature out now. Today's selection comes from Cleis Press's Best Women's Erotica 2010, edited by Violet Blue.

The following excerpt is from "In a Handbasket," by Alison Tyler.

The heat surrounded us: Santa Monica in the summertime, melting popsicles and no lights on; that electric smell of hot asphalt and salt breezes. And Cal's mouth working me, tongue ringing my clit, those warm strong hands opening me up now, drumming, strumming in a heady rhythm along the crack of my ass.

"You said you were a believer," I remembered suddenly, gazing down into his coffee-brown eyes, seeing the humor that I always saw when he looked at me-realizing in a flash it was because this was the first time I'd ever looked down at him, first time I was ever above.

But then he hosted me up, lifting me in his arms so I had to put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself, feeling his muscles through his seat-dampened T-shirt. I could have put my palms up flat on the ceiling if I'd wanted to. Instead, I gripped into his arms, knowing he was going to-what was it?

"Fellowship of light with darkness," Cal murmured, letting me feel the head of his cock at the split of my lips. Letting me steel myself now for the first taste of him.

"Does fellowship mean fuck?" I asked innocently.

"Only someone who wears a sinner on her chest would ask a question like that," Cal teased. And then he got quiet, because he'd felt me squeeze him. Tight. Once again and then release. He responded by plunging forward, driving firmly inside for me. And sweet Jesus, right then I started to think I might become a believer for real.

A believer in me and Caleb.

Forget Cain. We were able. Able to fuck like a dream. His hands moving, holding, lifting me so that I felt weightless, as if we were fucking in water, fucking in heat that's both breathable and surrounding. Flames licking our skin. the sound of fire crackling.

Caleb's strong, hard body pinned me to the wall, held me firmly then brought me down over and over on the length of his shaft. The pleasure floored me. Or lifted me up. I couldn't comprehend the sweetness, sparked with pain from his size, from the way that he stretched me. I'd heard of being fucked hard, fucked until you could feel that cock hammering against the back of your throat. But I never had that feeling until Caleb brought me to the bed, set me down and got behind me.

Here we were, bringing that picture to life, becoming the image that all of those dirty-minded people pictured when they saw us walking, when they saw two friends together. This was the culmination of all those stares. And they were right, those filthy-thinking people. Being fucked by Caleb was transcendent, shattering in that way that makes you flutter inside, every nerve ending alive-every fiber on fire.

Caleb gripped my hair in one fist and pulled as he fucked me, as he sealed himself into me, whispering sweet words the whole time. Not scripture, but promises, or rather confessions: how he'd wanted to do this from the start. How he was one of those dirty-minded people who imagined what I'd look like naked whenever he saw me.

"Like a sinner?" I whispered.

"We're all sinners," he sighed, as he came.

I slid one hand on top of his, pumping against my clit, showing him the way to take me there, letting his finger do the trick, so that I climaxed right after him, melting with him into the heat.

But he recovered quicker that I did, gripping me into his arms, holding me against him as the breeze barely stirred my lacy curtains.

"You know," I told him, turning to look into his eyes, "we're going to hell."

He laughed, that rumbling baritone laugh that I've always loved. "At least, chicklet, we'll be there together."

Excerpted from "Best Women's Erotica 2010," an anthology edited by Violet Blue and published by Cleis Press.

The book is also on sale at Amazon.

Copyright (c) 2009 by Cleis Press.

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