With all the blogging about writing Release The Stars, I haven’t yet posted a snippet from my story Fit for Forty, out now in Ylva’s erotica anthology Don’t Be Shy.
This story is set on a hike, and the narrator is not having the best time of her life, until they reach the top… 😉
When we’ve almost reached the top, the bushes around us growing denser, it looks as if we’re entering previously unchartered territory. Then, I feel something akin to pleasure. The maddest, craziest, most masochistic pleasure you could imagine, but pleasure nonetheless. Because, fuck, I’m about to reach the top of this damned mountain. No one else operated my feet. No machinery was involved to hoist me up. I did it all myself.
And then there’s the absolute quiet around us, except for the forest sounds and the distant slap of the waves against the majestic shoreline beneath. And the fresh air in my tortured lungs, and the subsiding ache in my glutes, and the sweat on my brow dripping down my cheeks into my mouth. And I must admit, I’m feeling it. I get why she wanted to come here. It feels as though, because it’s just us on this mountaintop, we’re alone on the planet. A foolish notion, and perhaps I’m suffering from a lack of oxygen to the brain, but I’m enraptured nonetheless. God knows which permanent injuries this hike will cause, but right now, when I’m at the top with my girl on her birthday, I don’t care about anything but this moment.
Below, the ocean is ink-blue in bits, while other patches are indigo and the caps of the waves are the purest of white. The sky stretches endlessly in front of us and for a minute, I feel like I might cry.
“Happy birthday,” I say, and press a kiss to Kate’s sweaty cheek.
She turns towards me, folding her arms around my waist. “Thank you for coming with me, babe. I know it was hard.”
“No sweat,” I lie, fooling no one.
“I feel so, so good. Like I can do anything.” She tilts her head a bit. “It’s hard to describe, but let’s just say I feel exactly how I wanted to feel on this day.”
“And it’s only midday.” I pull her a little closer towards me.
“Well.” There’s that smile again. “As outstanding as this view is, it could be enhanced.”
“Oh, really?” I play dumb, but I know what she’s getting at. You can’t spend two decades with someone and not be aware of her love for alfresco hanky-panky. We’ve done it in more parks and alleyways and deserted parking lots than I can count.
“I see a tree with your name on it, babe.” Kate doesn’t look at a tree though; she looks straight into my eyes, sporting that look she gets when her mind goes there. This hike was foreplay for her. I guess when you’re fit at forty it can be more than torture. Not for me, though. I’m happy I made it to the top, exhilarated, in fact, to share this moment with her, but I’m nowhere near horny. This, however, doesn’t worry me in the slightest. I know Kate. I know what she can do to me.
“Do you now?” I play along. “And, say you get to push me up against said tree, what would you do?”
“Oh, I will push you against it, babe. There are really no two ways about it.” This is how it starts. This is how she gets my blood to heat up in my veins, and the hairs to stand up on the back of my neck.
“Once I do, I will make you come so hard, make you scream so loud, the birds won’t know what hit them. They’ll all fly off in submission, convinced there’s a new top bird on the mountain. Which will be true. At least for a little while.”
Kate doesn’t touch me while she says this, doesn’t try to sneak a hand underneath my top and brush a finger against my sweat- drenched flesh. And I realize that I knew this would happen—how could I not?—and it’s most likely what kept me going in the end.
“Now, tell me,” she continues, narrowing her eyes. “Do you want a sea view with your climax or do you prefer a mountain view?”
Here’s the blurb for Don’t Be Shy:
Twelve authors of lesbian fiction bring you short stories that focus on the sensual, red-hot delights of sex between women and the celebration of the female form in all its diverse hedonism.
You’ll find intimate encounters between strangers, couples playing out their most titillating fantasies, one-night stands, and stories featuring slow, sultry weekends. Are you up for toys, hot sex, and fun?
Are you in the mood for something spicy?
My story Fit for Forty appears in this anthology published by Ylva Publishing and edited by Astrid Ohletz and Jae.