This is a collection of erotic one shots from various genres and periods in time. From passionate paranormal to stimulating sci-fi. Some of these stories will contain fetishes and all feature mature content suitable for adults only. I hope you enjoy them.
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The Professor kicked his machine hard, “Accursed machine, it’ll never work… I give up.”
“Rebecca? Rebecca!” he shouted.
A young woman burst into the workshop, “Yes Professor, how may I be of service?”
“Fetch the tea, Rebecca. Oh, and some of that apple pie that Mrs Goodwell brought me.”
“Of course, Professor. Shall I bring the whipped cream too?” Rebecca asked.
“Oh, what a splendid idea. What would I do without you? My dear Rebecca,” The professor gushed.
“Well, for starters you’d forget to tie your shoes or brush your hair,” Rebecca said low enough for the Professor to not hear her.
She hurried out of the room and to the kitchen, there were far too many stairs for her liking. She wondered if maybe the Professor could invent some machine capable of lifting a person to the top floor instead. Half the time, he could just be found tinkering on his latest invention, muttering to himself.
Fifteen minutes later, Rebecca arrived back at the room with a full tray of tea and cake, “Okay Professor, time for a break.”
The professor peered from under his machine, “Ah yes, tea… you are an angel, Rebecca.”
“Do stop, Professor, you will make me blush.”
Rebecca regarded the Professor; he was remarkably handsome underneath all the oil and soot that usually covered most of him. His black hair was out of place, but he was always clean shaven, goggles were always perched atop his head, and he could always be found tinkering with something. Rebecca wondered why he had never married; he was 40 this year and she had never seen a woman here. He needed a good woman but whenever Rebecca brought up the subject, he would wave it away and ask her why he needed a woman when he had her.
Rebecca hadn’t worked for the professor for long, around three years. In her time here he has been nothing but kind to her, and he paid her well as a housekeeper. Occasionally he would be in an awfully foul mood, but he could usually be brought out of it with sweet treats and a bit of conversation. The only thing she struggled with, was keeping on top of the Professor’s chaotic way of living and more than once she had been scolded for moving his tools.
She set the tray down on a clear space on the table, pouring him some tea and cutting him a slice of pie.
“Lots of cream, Professor?”
“What an incredibly silly question, Rebecca, of course I want lots,” he replied, hitting the large machine in the centre of his workshop.
Rebecca knew the answer as she asked him, but she did like to tease him. He came over to sample the tea and take a large bite of the pie.
“Oh Professor, you have cream all over your nose,” Rebecca said as she licked her thumb and wiped it away.
Without warning he flicked a dollop of cream at her face, Rebecca gasped in shock at his tomfoolery, she had never, in her time here, witnessed him be the slightest bit playful.
“My dear Rebecca, you seem to have cream all over your face,” he tittered, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Professor, what on earth has come over you?” Rebecca lifted the corner of her apron to wipe away the cream.
The Professor put out a hand to stop her, “allow me,” he said.
He leaned in towards her and gently licked the cream away from her cheek, then her chin. Rebecca knew some had landed on her lips, she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t stopping him, her heart fluttered as she waited for his lips to land on hers.
He placed his lips on hers, so lightly she barely felt him. He brushed his lips across hers, Rebecca felt as if a feather were being drawn across her mouth, a tingle spread down her spine.
A calloused hand brushed away a stray strand of hair from her face and came to rest on her jawline.
“Professor?” Rebecca whispered against his mouth.
That one word from her seemed to awaken him and he crashed into her mouth like a wave upon the rocks, losing himself completely. Rebecca found herself responding to his movements, she opened up her lips and pushed back, welcoming his tongue as if it were a loved one returning from a long trip. His mouth tasted like sweet tea and apples and Rebecca made a low hum against him as he deepened the kiss.
She loosened up as she sank into the moment, finally bringing her hands up to his face and letting her body melt into his. The Professor reached up and removed Rebecca’s bonnet, then freed her hair from the pins that kept it in place. He broke the kiss and pulled away to look at her, combing his fingers through her hair. Tresses the colour of caramelised sugar slipped between his rough fingers, and he sighed, eyes full of longing that Rebecca had never experienced before. Different from the looks she got from the men in the taverns, who leered at her from behind their tankards. Rebecca unpinned her gown at the front and untucked the kerchief from around her shoulders, pulling down the top half of her dress.
Without breaking eye contact she reached behind herself to loosen her stays, “Would you help me please, Professor?”
Initially frozen as he watched her undress, he stuttered in agreement, fumbling with the delicate laces. With her ample breasts freed from their cage, Rebacca’s breath quickened at the realisation that she was stood topless in front of the Professor, her nipples stiffened in the cool air. In that moment, time had stood still. She was aware of the dust covered furniture, the scent of oil and must in the air, the rain lashing at the uneven glass windowpanes.
“What are we doing, Rebecca?” the Professor asked.
“Should we stop?” she asked him, feeling exposed and beginning to lift her apron to cover herself. A crash of thunder rumbled in the distance.
“No, I don’t think I want to,” he replied, pulling her back into him.
He kissed her so deeply that she felt lightheaded, and she felt him harden against her. His arousal was not surprising to her, she had experience with men, but none of them had ever kissed her the way she was being kissed right now.
The Professor manoeuvred the two of them over to a mostly empty desk, leaning his weight into her until they fell backwards against the hard wood.
“Ouch,” Rebecca exclaimed against the Professor’s lips.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, jumping back with concern.
Rebecca pulled out a hammer from underneath her, “No, but this did,” she said as she laughed.
The Professor smiled, “Close your eyes, Rebecca.”
“Why?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Just do it,” he replied, playfully swatting at her nose.
She shut her eyes obediently, listening to the Professor walk across the room, resisting the urge to sneak a peek at what he was doing. Just as quickly as he’d left her, he was back again.
Rebecca felt something cold splash over her chest, “Good Lord, Professor. What are you doing?”
“I wanted to see if you tasted as delicious as Mrs Goodwell’s pie,” he winked.
Before Rebecca could protest, he eagerly devoured the cream that was sliding its way down her chest, to the very tips of her breasts. The Professor followed the trails it left with his tongue, until her nipple was between his lips, Rebecca moaned as he sucked gently. He looked up, a smile dancing playfully on his lips, and began pulling up her skirt, gathering the blue material up at her knees.
“Oh, no… you can’t. Professor,” Rebecca protested as he pushed her legs apart, she knew exactly what he was going to do.
The Professor took a moment to marvel at the sight of Rebecca’s mound, her entrance visible beneath the soft brown hair that covered her lips. He turned the small bowl of cream upside down, allowing the contents to fall between her legs. She gasped at the sensation; it was not as unpleasant as she imagined it would be. Once the cream had sufficiently covered her folds, he buried his face between her legs, giving her warning. Rebecca cried out, no man had ever done this to her before and the feeling was indescribable. The warmth of his tongue across her slit was like nothing she’d felt before, with each upward motion, he’d pause at her clit and suck softly, which made her thrust her hips up into his face.
As he massaged her pussy with his mouth, she felt the inevitable climax approaching. She clamped her thighs on the sides of his head, grasping at his messy black hair with her hands, fearful that he might pull away from her and end the exquisite feeling that was building deep within her. It was as though he read her mind, his tongue didn’t stray from her clit, and he intensified his actions. His hands gripped at her rounded hips, pulling her closer to him, as though he could sense her orgasm approaching.
“Professor… please… don’t stop,” she exclaimed between breaths.
He had no intention of stopping, she tasted like honey, and he wanted more. He squeezed at her hips reassuringly, before pulling one hand away and sliding two fingers along the soft, wet flesh of her lips. He circled gently at her entrance, listening to her breath hitch, then he plunged his digits into her, feeling the walls of her core tighten around his long fingers. Her breaths became quick and shallow, her hands twirled in his hair in desperation.
Rebecca felt the explosion within herself, starting in the base of her spine, her legs became weak, and she shuddered with each pulse of pleasure from her orgasm. Once the Professor was satisfied that she was spent, he pulled her upwards to kiss her, letting Rebecca taste the mixture of sweet cream and her own juices on his lips. He didn’t give her much time to recover before he flipped her over on the desk, pulling down his breeches to free his erection, pushing at her centre as if asking permission.
She pushed back, a silent invitation to enter her and the Professor gave a long throaty moan as he sheathed his length in her. He moved slowly at first, making Rebecca tingle with each thrust. She rocked her hips each time he buried himself in her, coaxing a groan from him each time. His movements became faster, until he was plunging into her with passionate ferocity.
“You’re my angel, Rebecca,” he panted.
“Please, Professor,” she said, begging him to release himself.
His thrusts became erratic, his fingers dug into the white flesh of her hips. With a final powerful push, he emptied himself into her, his body shaking and quivering as he fell forward onto her back. He stroked at her breasts with a contended sigh, his face buried in her the cornflower blue fabric of her skirt.
He lingered inside of her until they had both come around, their steady breaths in unison. The Professor pulled out of her, looking sheepish as he straightened his clothes.
Rebecca did the same, holding out her corset and waving it, showing that she needed his help.
“What now, Rebecca?” his asked as he laced her up.
“How about some tea, Professor?” she laughed.