Titillate! – A Collection of Erotic Short Stories

K.C. Cave crosses all her sexual boundaries in this collection of no-hold-barred erotic short stories and flash fiction—lesbian, MF, MMF, solo sex, bondage and boy-on-boy fun. She’s been told that mixing genres in erotic fiction is a no-no—readers are easily squicked when they come across a sexual flavor they don’t like. Really? Squicked by explicit erotica? If that’s true, you’ve been warned. But if you, like K.C., have an open mind (and body!) about all the shades and variations of explicit erotica, settle in for a good time.

~~~~~  Excerpt  ~~~~~

Mia walked into the hotel ballroom crowded with suits holding drinks. The first day of the National Beverage Supply Association’s annual conference was winding down. She crossed toward the bar, hips swaying ever so slightly. She didn’t recognize a single face, which was the point.

“What an ass.”

“Gawd.”

“I’d do her.”

She got her glass of Chardonnay and sauntered back toward the two guys. They were young, early twenties, maybe fifteen years younger than Mia. Fresh-faced and handsome, they looked out of place in the sea of paunchy, mostly male conferees. The taller one, blond, blushed as she approached. The other guy, darker, met her direct gaze. They’d make a nice couple, Mia thought.

“Hi, I’m”—she looked down at the name tag she had found on the lobby floor two flights down and read upside down—“Donna.” She leaned and looked at the blond guy’s name tag. “Hi, Randy.”

Turning, she read the other tag. “And Mike. Randy and Mike.”

Randy stammered. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t…”

“It’s alright. You didn’t mean for me to hear. And you certainly don’t look like the crude or disrespectful type.”

Mia, in her late thirties, looked ten years younger. Her skirt was just short enough to show off her shapely legs, and her two-inch heels made her round bottom that much rounder. A dark blue blazer over a white silk blouse screamed “businesswoman,” but revealed the tops of her small, pert breasts.

“Is this your first conference?”

“We’re trainees. Sales trainees.” It was Randy, still embarrassed.

Mike spoke. “You in sales?”

Mia sipped her wine, her eyes not leaving his. “I’m in giveaways.”

“Hey, that’s advanced stuff,” Mike said. “We’re entry level, so it’s all about last month’s numbers. No free samples.”

“Maybe you could use some tips.” Turning to his friend: “Randy, that’s a nice name. In England, it’s a double entendre. It means, uh, frisky.” Mia straightened his tie, which didn’t need straightening. “Are you randy, Randy?”

He swallowed.