Easily Aroused ~ erotic fiction by an oversexed Englishman

Sensual erotica for discerning women

Easily Aroused ~ erotic fiction by an oversexed Englishman - Sensual erotica for discerning women

Sound and Fury

His heart quickens when he sees her email waiting for him, the familiar paperclip beside the subject line signifying the presence of an attachment.

He knows exactly what to expect.

He goes to his desk, opens the left-hand draw and pulls out the pouch containing his B&W headphones. He plugs them into the top of the tablet, positions the headphones’ soft leather pads over his ears and settles himself in his high-backed chair. The attachment has finished downloading. Before he presses play, he switches both of his phones to silent.

“I want to come for you,” her voice says to him in the empty office. “I want to come for you.”

He hears birds singing, cars passing by outside her apartment. She tells him how her mind has become a blur, a giddy kaleidoscope of all the ways she craves to pleasure him, to taste him, to fuck him. He nods without realising that he is doing so, as her words, her promises, echo in his brain. They tease his expectations ever upwards, play his nerve endings like a harpist dexterously picking out the most beguiling of melodies. Already, he is rapt, enthralled, lost.

And then she says, “You flick that switch so easily”, and for an instant, he is confused. Is she talking about him or herself? Her statement applies equally either way.

He listens, pressing his headphones tighter to his ears, his hearing questing for the accompanying sounds as she tells him that she’s slipping out of her already sodden panties, that she’s touching herself everywhere. The smooth and soothing tone of her voice is already beginning to lose its poise. She wonders if he would be as deliberate and controlled in his pleasuring if he were there with her, or if he would seek to plunder her flesh, to immerse himself selfishly in her vulnerable flesh. He doesn’t know the answer. He can imagine himself being patient; he can also foresee himself being unstoppable in his animal need to be inside her.

“I want to give you so much,” she sighs, and then she groans as she slips what she’s told him is a substitute phallus along the succulent cleft of her sex. Her sudden intake of breath is staggering; he pictures her sucking the air inside herself through her barely-parted lips. He wonders what shade she’s painted them today, how she might transfer the colour to his mouth, his chest, his cock, if he were there with her.

“Fuck, can you hear that?” she whispers to him, as though he’s on the other side of the room and not the other side of the planet. “Listen to how wet I am. Can you hear how much I want you? Can you?”

He can. The wet grip of her flesh on the moving phallus is the sound of time off-kilter. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Her high-pitched groans, her sharp gasps of bliss as the phallus – is it silicone or glass, he wonders – moves over her flesh fill in the punctuation marks of her self-wrought pleasure.

And then her cries soar, making his heart thud and his cock throb by equal measure. “Oh God … I’ve just buried … the vibrator inside me.”

He pictures her sprawled across crisp white sheets, diamonds of perspiration glistening across her slender nakedness in the semi-darkness as she presses the phallus deeper and deeper. He is aroused and frustrated in equal measure: aroused because of the thrilling eroticism of her pleasure captured so nakedly; frustrated, because the sound of her gratification is all he has to content himself with.

“Fuck … fuck … fuck!” she half-whispers, half-cries. “I’m ready to come already. Fuck … fuck. Oh God, I want you. Fuck…”

The wet tick-tock of her thrusts increases in speed and strength. She pants like a runner coming into the final straight, and then she goes silent, and all he is left with is the tick-tocking of her strokes. He rubs himself through the material of his trousers, unable to unzip and remove himself because of where he is. He fears that he might come like a teenager, from just the lecherous thoughts that she has conjured, thrusting dryly, pathetically, against the inside of his shorts.

When she does come, it sounds to him as though she’s crying.

It’s little wonder the uninitiated sometimes confuse the noises of pleasure for the sound of despair.

“I don’t want to stop,” she whimpers, part-woman, part-child. “I want to come again for you.” And she starts again, the slickness of her cunt so much more obvious now as she begins to thrust into herself all over again. “Oh God, oh God why aren’t you here? Why aren’t you here taking me from behind? That’s what you should do … you should slide your beautiful … big … thick … hard … cock into me. Fuck…”

She loses herself in her strokes once more, and he follows her down into the vortex, as far as his imagination will permit.

When she comes for the second time, she half-laughs, half-cries. He aches to see her when she climaxes, aches to be the direct cause of her delight … her gleaming nakedness bucking against his, his fingers and his mouth slick with her lust, the musk of her desire filling his nostrils. He imagines her body crying out for more. More pleasure. More of him.

He listens to her ragged breathing ease again. “One more,” she gasps. “One more…” And then she pants as the wet tick-tocking overwhelms her nerve endings once again. He tries to conjure the warm scent of sex that must be infusing her bedroom by now. It leaves him on the edge of salivating.

“Fuck me, please!” she implores him in tones so hushed they belie what he’s heard until now. “Soon. Fuck.” And then the thrusting of the phallus is climbing again together with her voice, and she cries out furiously, triumphantly, as she completes the trinity of her ecstasy.

“I want you,” she tells him eventually. “Don’t doubt that.”

There is a faint click as the recording stops.

He sits back in his chair, removes the headphones and puts them down atop the tablet. He passes an unsteady hand across his brow. When he looks, his palm gleams. He glances down at himself. The outline of his cock is clear, and at the tip, he can see where his precum has soaked through his shorts and into his wool trousers. He rubs it with his thumb until the stain’s shine dissipates, trying to ignore how good the stimulus feels.


He doesn’t know what to do with himself. Suddenly, the day that had been rich with the promise of adventure seems grey and bleak. At once, he feels empty, and very alone.

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; a stage where every man must play a part, and mine is a sad one.

So he looks back to the tablet, reseats the P5s’ earmuffs against his ears, and presses play once more.

Category: Erotic Fiction
  • Ms Hansen says:

    My heart started beating faster as I read this… such succulent prose. Those headphones were on my ears. Then suddenly, I was in the room with her… such divine ecstasy. Thank you xx

    December 20, 2013 at 12:01 am
    • EA says:

      It was my pleasure, Ms H. I’m glad to have been able to slip the headphones over your ears for a time….

      December 23, 2013 at 4:08 pm
  • vicvista says:

    Mmmmmmmm Men are so pleasurable to feed with such great delight.

    ~ Vista

    December 20, 2013 at 3:45 am
    • EA says:

      Yes, they are Vista….

      December 23, 2013 at 4:09 pm
  • Cammies on the Floor says:

    Everything you write, I love. God, this is no different

    December 20, 2013 at 4:17 pm
    • EA says:

      Thank you, Cammies – I’ll try my best to keep my run going through 2014….

      December 23, 2013 at 4:35 pm
  • lunderstand says:

    I only wish I could close my eyes whilst reading your tantalizing tales, to see even more clearly in my mind, the images you invoke.
    Thank you for reminding me that, while an erotic visual can make the juices flow, the sighs, slaps and squeals and all the other familiar sounds can be oh so inspiring.

    December 21, 2013 at 5:32 am
    • EA says:

      I enjoyed providing you with the reminder. Perhaps I need to find some way to auralise my tales, so that you can close your eyes while the words provoke your imagination….

      December 23, 2013 at 4:37 pm
  • sexyduchess says:

    I am suddenly inspired to provide such an offering to someone myself – thank you for the thought…and stimulation to potentially begin right away…

    December 27, 2013 at 3:47 am
    • EA says:

      It was my pleasure, Duchess – I hope the recipient enjoys their gift….

      December 30, 2013 at 3:22 pm
  • Laura of Cape Cod says:

    You would think that with 2 graduate degrees (one in Literature) I would have realized the beauty and thrill of reading rather viewing erotic scenes. The pictures (videos) are crude and seemed so staged. The writing draws in the reader and captures the imagination. So – I am not a voyeur but a participant. You have a gift and draw in one’s natural desires. I could feel in so many ways how this “cyber experience” is often the reality of my life: so fulfilling and yet not without emptiness.

    February 3, 2014 at 9:30 pm
    • EA says:

      A wonderful commentary, Laura – thank you….

      February 4, 2014 at 2:41 pm
  • Melanie says:

    Reading about a sexy recording, it works! I like the idea of auralising your stories!

    February 10, 2014 at 2:52 pm
    • EA says:

      Are you volunteering, Melanie?

      February 10, 2014 at 9:21 pm
  • Aphrodite says:

    Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking…. I love your work. I am thrilled to have discovered you. I have been looking for something, not sure what…. In your site I have found my fantasies, my needs, my desires…..
    Thank You

    February 19, 2014 at 11:04 pm
    • EA says:

      It’s my pleasure, Aphrodite – I’m glad that my writing has been able to satisfy your wants…

      February 26, 2014 at 12:56 pm

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