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EROTICA

Erotica: Resolutions

by F. LEONORA SOLOMON
Published: DECEMBER 31, 2020 | Updated: FEBRUARY 23, 2021
The New Year is coming, and you should be too. Here's a steamy piece of erotica to help!

Ileana loved the holiday season; she loved the lights and other spoils of the season. Her job was labor-intensive, and her company graciously gave them the last two weeks off at the end of the year. These two weeks she regarded as personal time to take care of herself. She got massages, went out to the fanciest restaurants, and revealed in her self-care.

The fanciest night was New Year’s Eve, when she went to her favorite neighborhood restaurant. She wore red underwear because it was supposed to be good luck and planned on celebrating until about a half hour before the ball dropped so she could watch the ball drop at home.

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Luc, the chef and owner, really outdid himself that night. Ileana took pictures of every plate for posterity. Each course was delivered to her personally by Luc, and she appreciated that. He catered to her as he did the rest of the clientele, who were drinking champagne like water. Luc wanted her to feel special as a regular, and she appreciated that.

When she left, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and wished her a happy new year.

“Here,” he said, and handed her a bottle of the house red that she loved so much, “to bring in the New Year.”

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“Thank you,” she said, kissing his cheek before pulling at her coat. New Year’s Eve always seemed to be the coldest night of the year.

She walked briskly to her apartment. After getting inside, she did a rapid striptease to adjust to its tropical atmosphere. It was very hot, but she would have taken off her clothes just as fast even if it wasn’t so warm.

In just her red underwear Ileana took the bottle of house red to her electric wine opener and poured a generous pour into her Zalto wine glass. Its neck was delicate, but she did not mind. It was a special night.

She stood in front of her full-length mirror and looked at herself in her Agent Provocateur red underwear. It was transparent, and she pulled at the crotch of her panties that were wet as she had been half of the night. Good food aroused her, and so much more…

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Too excited to undo her bra, she pulled her full breasts out of their cups and pulled at her nipples. It excited her to see herself like that--that she could be sexy to herself. Ileana laughed and walked to her bed--watching herself walk away as she did before she got on the bed and took off her red panties.

Now that she was more at ease, she undid her bra. Completely naked, she smiled and looked at the clock.

The countdown was on.

Ileana tried her best to come when the clock struck twelve, she liked to make herself come and allow herself that pleasure right as the new year came in. She knew that she could do that for herself—she did not need to be with anyone else for New Year’s Eve.

After New Year’s Eve, she could look for someone.

It was 11:48, and she knew she could make herself come in five minutes as wet and tight as she was, but she wanted to come with the new year. She could make it last just a little bit longer. Her clit was like a hot button when she touched it, and she gasped pressing it harder. She rubbed all of her wetness about it until it evaporated and then she put her finger in her mouth. She tasted herself, clean like the ocean, and used some of her saliva to wet and move her finger about herself.

The tension was sweet, but she was not ready to come yet. It was only 11:50.

She sat up and took several sips of the red wine, tasting its dry, residual sweetness. She could also taste Luc when she kissed his cheek. The taste of his cheek stayed with her along with the pot de creme and the wine.

Luc was handsome, but he was her friend, and she did not want to ruin what they had. Being able to walk right down the block to have dinner and have him treat her like his favorite guest was a luxury.

11:55, the pressure was on. She put the wine down and wet her clit with more saliva, which was joined harmoniously with her own natural lubricant as her hips moved counterclockwise to her finger. She heard the fireworks outside as she came, clutching her red thong on the bed.

The next morning, now that she had rung in the new year successfully alone, she was open to being with someone else. It was a new year, and she was open. Dating apps often did not do much for her because the people were often way out of the parameters she had set. She was not being elitist; she just knew what she wanted.

There was a guy today that was the perfect example of why she set parameters. Everything in his bio was opposed to hers, but she liked his quirky answers, so she hearted him. He lived near her so it would not be much of an effort.

He wrote right back, he wanted to see her for a drink the following night at a quaint place just near them.

Luc’s place.

Staring at the words on the screen of her phone, she bit her lip and said okay. She would meet him there.

The following night, she sat at her favorite table and Luc brought out a bunch of dollar oysters for her.

“You are not going to make a profit here with all of these freebies!” she smiled.

“Only for my favorite customers,” he smiled. His French accent was killer as ever, but she tried not to melt as she took an oyster.

Luc took one. She watched him as he swallowed it, and the prominence of his Adam’s apple as he did.

Merci beaucoup,” she said as she swallowed her own oyster, and took in its sweet, briny flavor.

He was looking at her, and she looked at him. They stared at each other for a long while.

“You look more beautiful than usual,” he said, and she felt her entire body fill with heat.

“Thank you,” she said in English too nervous to be coy enough to say it again in French.

“This year, I decided that I was going to be more forward. I have the restaurant; business is good, yet there is something I still need. I told myself that I would tell you the next time I saw you that you are beautiful and special.”

Ileana was pretty sure she would combust. She was so hot from everything he said, and then she saw the horror on his face.

“I am sorry Illy, I knew it was a risk, but I felt like I had to say something when I could still taste your cheek on my lips after I kissed you and I wanted to know what your mouth tasted like...but…”

She stood up and walked over to him. It was not clear who kissed who first, but they were kissing and he his hands were all over her body. As expertly as she had touched herself on New Year’s Eve, it did not feel as good as it felt to have him touch her body. His hand on her cheek, her neck, her breast and her butt.

The restaurant was empty except for them, he grabbed her butt and took her to the door marked “Privé,” and he opened it. It was a tiny office and there was a MacBook and food industry magazines strewn about. He closed the door and pressed himself up against her. Ileana moaned at the feeling of him hard against her. She wanted to touch him, but she did not want to rush. She had fantasized about him before, and it was nothing like this. She always imagined them fucking in the kitchen because they both liked to cook.

But in his tiny office, permeated with his scent, she sighed. She looked up at him and he leaned down and studied her. His eyes filled with fluorescent light, and she almost felt like she would swoon.

“I thought about you too,” she said. “But I did not want to lose my favorite restaurant and you as a friend if something went wrong.”

He smiled and they kissed, he pushed her gently back on his desk and moved his MacBook to the side along with several magazines. She wrapped her arms about neck, and he kissed her. She was practically hanging from his neck like an orangutan with her legs wrapped around him, before he moved away from her and raised her dress. His eyes widened at her red underwear--a different set than what she wore on New Year’s Eve not that he would know the difference.

“Pretty,” he murmured, and she licked her lips.

She watched him undo his pants. Watching him unbuckle his belt, the sound of the clink of it and to see him slip his hand down the front--

--then the bell to the front door of the restaurant pinged.

“Oh no!” she said.

“What I will send them away, tell them we are opening later.”

“It might be my date.”

“Your what?”

She explained to him, and he laughed.

“It is a damn good thing I spoke up today! I will make him go away.”

“Be gentle.”

“With him yes, with you no.”

She waited and saw herself in his mirror. Her face was flushed. She looked ready to be fucked.

And she absolutely was.

Luc walked back into the office and closed the door behind him.

“So, you were going to bring another guy in here to flaunt in front of me?”

“Luc, I did not know,” she stammered, and then saw that he was just playing with her. “Are you going to punish me for it?”

He smiled and brought her to her feet. She looked up at him, and then down as he unbuckled his belt again and turned her around flush against him as he rubbed his belt against her thigh and hit her with it against the fleshiest part.

“Punish me,” she whispered, and when he laughed, she felt it through her entire body. He pulled up her dress again and moved her red thong to the side. It felt cool when he moved away from her to go fish for a condom from his drawer.

She warmed up when he was pressed to her back again and moved her legs apart. The latex tip of him ignited her as he rubbed the tip against her lips. She was desperate for him at this point. Completely desperate for him to be inside of her like she had secretly fantasized for every time she left the restaurant. She loved how every bit of food felt like something intimate with him. Watching him with those oysters and she had wished he was taking her in like that.

Bent over the desk, he pushed into her and she cried out with relief. The feeling of him inside of her was nothing like her fingers could do, regardless of how good they felt. He filled every nook and cranny of her, and the pleasure filled her until she felt like she would implode.

He moaned too upon entering her, and there was relief in his moans as well. The way he caressed the small of her back and the feeling of his balls hitting her as he moved in and out of her. There was nothing more perfect than that moment, as she closed her eyes, cumming even before she knew she was going to. Between his thrusts and his already expert fingers on her clit there was no way to avoid the explosion from inside of her.

Like the fireworks when she came on New Year’s Eve.

His office smelled like them after. She looked up at him on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him, glad they had both acted on their resolutions for the new year.

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Photo for F. Leonora Solomon
F. Leonora Solomon

F. Leonora Solomon is an editor and writer, who lives in New York City. As an editor, she has published several anthologies, most recently TIE ME UP. As a writer, her short stories have been featured in anthologies, including CHEMICAL [se]X and SPY GAMES. She is a bibliophile, and has severe wanderlust...

Visit her at http://www.fdotleonora.com, where you can find all of her social media outlets and books.


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