A collection of five winning stories from the 'Escape to Erotica' competition held by Xcite Books and Erotica. With a central theme of 'escape' these stories offer the readers a wonderful opportunity to leave behind their daily lives and escape to somewhere far more pleasurable.
Olive Oil and Another World by Maxim Jacubowski
A London journalist and a beautiful woman meet at a Food Trade Fair in Paris where she is selling extra pure virgin olive oil. They meet, connect and both dream of escape to other shores. Will the relationship survive the night?
Escape by Kitty Luscious
Lara Groves is escaping to the Scilly Isles. The remote cottage she has hired has no internet, no phone line and no mobile reception. But she is not quite cut off from the outside world. When two sexy young surfers offer to pop by and check she’s OK Lara doesn’t refuse them. In fact, when she sees their gorgeous fit young bodies at close quarters, Lara realises she is not about to refuse them anything at all.
Swept Away by Demelza Hart
Kitty is breaking free – a few days road trip with no plans other than to find an adventure – what could be better? Picking up a fellow traveller is not part of her plans, but he’s certainly easy on the eye. And when he introduces her to his equally gorgeous friend, who owns a secluded restaurant in the mountains, Kitty finds herself on an adventure she couldn’t have anticipated.
The Flight by Ian Perrott
A long haul flight on a half empty plane, Jennifer isn’t pleased when the seats on either side of her are occupied at the last minute by two men. She’d been hoping to catch up on her sleep. But the guys have other plans for Jennifer and she happily swaps sleep for the prospect of her own personal sexy in flight entertainment. Except that she soon discovers the two men aren’t quite what they seem.
Elle’s Present from Charlie by LW
Charlie is Elle’s long distance lover. They talk every day and he sends sensual presents from Australia, although they never meet. But a virtual lover isn’t enough for Elle – she needs more. Charlie may be far away but James, her new engineer, is right in front of her and he’s happy to be a real live substitute for Charlie any time she likes.
He fits her like a glove, sheathed inside her lust like a perfectly sculpted jewel created by some unknown god. From a deep pit in her furthest and most private core, she feels the concentric waves of pleasure rise and begin their endless journey and abandons herself within their assault. Their caress. A sensation she thought she had lost touch with a long time ago.
‘Yes,’ she whispers in the silence of the hotel room.
‘Yes,’ he answers, as he keeps on moving inside her with relentless repetitiveness, his hands forcefully gripping her shoulders as he lowers himself against her again and again.
Her nails mechanically graze the skin on his back, as she holds him ever tighter against her.
Outside, it’s raining hard, the wind rising from the East hurling the storm against the rickety shutters of the room.
But that’s outside and he doesn’t give a damn. He’s in another world; he’s inside her. And all is well with the world for now.
It all began in Paris.
A trade fair in a steel and concrete bunker on the outer periphery highway, a building with all the personality of a giant armadillo with a thousand asymmetric piercings illuminating its metallic belly. The dim noise of countless, frantic business conversations flittering from stand to stand, and the smell of food and sweat wafting between the alleys. A combined aroma of nervous fear and Italian prosciutto that welcomed you to this year’s International Food Raw Ingredients Fair.
She was greeting potential customers with a fixed smile painted across her lips on the stand of her employers, who imported Extra Pure Virgin Olive Oil from Spain, while he wandered, not attached to any particular company, just distractedly looking around in the hope of finding an angle for a human interest column for a magazine he often wrote for. His reservation on Eurostar was for the following morning, and he had found himself with a free afternoon and the notion of the trade fair which he’d read about during the course of his breakfast trawl across the Internet sounded somewhat intriguing. Miles from his customary journalistic beat.
Cruising between the stands, he’d nibbled countless varieties of cheese, been offered dozens of miniature plastic cups of sundry wines and exotic liqueurs and dipped carefully-segmented croutons of bread into innumerable saucers with every imaginable species of oil and relish.
‘Sir?’
