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Stimulating
Stories About Couples Sex
A Compilation of Literate
Erotica
Nameless
by Harry Merkin
This short
story is a work of
fiction. Names,
characters, places and
incidents either are the
product of the author’s
vivid imagination or are
used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual
human beings, living or
dead, business
enterprises, events or
locales is entirely
coincidental.
“Come with me.”
“Sure. What do you want to do?”
“Almost anything would be better than
listening to this preening and posturing.”
“You don’t enjoy observing the dominance
display rituals of lesser beings?”
She laughed so hard I had to keep her from
falling over.
“Are you always so funny?”
“Only when I’m not trying.”
“You aren’t trying anything right now, are
you?”
“Would you like to hear that I’m trying to
get to know you, or that I’m trying to
replace my former girlfriend who is
currently at Yale, or that I’m trying to
charm your pants off of you?”
“All of the above.”
“Your blushing appeals to me. Your blushing
so intensely intrigues me.”
“Perhaps we should change the subject. Ah …
Are you circumcised?”
“Would a yes or no answer suffice or do you
want to see for yourself? … I bet your
blush now colors your breasts and parts
beneath.”
“Would a yes or no answer suffice or do you
want to see for yourself?”
“Your retort is brilliant.”
We both smile. We kiss. First a little peck
on the lips, then a prolonged lip-lock that
causes the fellow walking behind us to run
into us.
“Geez. Why don’t you guys go do that in your
dorm room?”
“Thank you, sir, for your kind suggestion.”
“My dorm is that elegant heap straight
ahead.“
“Mine is at the northwest edge of the
campus.”
“Let’s go get some ice cream.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Not really. My mom always told me not to
talk to strangers. We won’t be strangers if
we have ice cream together.”
“We just kissed. Are we still strangers?”
“I guess we aren’t. Maybe I just want to
delay the your dorm or mine decision.”
“We could go to a movie theater instead.”
“What’s showing?”
“It doesn’t matter. If you agree, we should
sit in the last row of seats, against the
back wall, so we don’t give the
projectionist a free peep show.”
“Will I be safe with you?”
“Do you like to kiss and fool around?”
“I had some really nice make-out sessions
with my high school boyfriend.”
“How nice were those make-out sessions?”
“Really, really nice.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. Really, really, really nice,
especially after he suggested I wear short
skirts and panties one-size-too-large with
old, tired elastic.”
“That kind of finger-fucking is a nice and
safe way to get aroused while staying
dressed.”
“I can’t believe we’re talking about this.
We met just 15 minutes ago.”
“I first saw you about 20 minutes ago. I
eyed you discretely. I had to memorize your
face in case we never again saw each other.
Your eyes are so alive, so interested and
interesting. You were making such great
faces responding to the buffoon with the
bullhorn. And your lips, both when still and
when mouthing retorts to the trust-fund
revolutionary, are luscious and as Betjeman
wrote, “are shaped for sin.” And then, out
of the blue, you turned to me and beckoned,
“Come with me.” You already had me
spellbound. I could not refuse your
request.”
She looks at me. Her smile forms, then
grows. She moves so close and clasps my
nearest hand.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever
said to me.”
“Your, “Come with me,” is the boldest thing
a nameless girl has ever said to me.”
“I do have a name.”
“Tell me your name at the right time. You
pick that moment.”
“Okay. So, what is your name?”
“Lucky. I’m so very lucky to have kissed you
and to be holding your hand.”
“Okay, Lucky, a movie date sounds good to
me. First, though, let’s go to my dorm so I
can lose the jeans and find my denim
miniskirt.”
…
“You don’t have to turn around.”
“You don’t mind if I devour you with my
eyes?”
“You’ve been doing that for over 30
minutes.”
“Have I been that obvious?”
“Yes. Your obvious desire has really turned
me on. Put your hand here. Feel the fabric.
You have aroused me this much.”
“May I kiss you right here?”
“I’d like that. Would you like me on the
bed?”
“Would you like me to undress?”
“First, take off my blouse and bra, then
I’ll relieve you of that lumberjack shirt
and corduroy pants.”
Her nipples are hard. Her breasts are
delightful and firm. Her soft hands unbutton
my shirt, unbuckle my belt, unbutton my
pants and pull down the zipper.
She slides her hand down the front of my
underwear.
“You’re already hard, really hard.”
“I want you. I really want you.”
She pulls down my pants. She pulls down my
underwear.
“I knew you were circumcised! I KNEW IT.”
I hold her and we fall on her bed.
Our lips lock. Our tongues engage. I slide a
hand inside her panty.
She moans and spreads her legs as I finger
her.
I part her warm labia, go down her slit, dip
a finger in her well, then drive her crazy
with its moist tip working her stiff clit,
working her into a wild frenzy of bucking
and gasping.
Then I hold her as she stills, and her
breathing slows, and her heartbeat slows,
and time slows for both of us until our
kissing resumes, then grows intense, and my
erection grows.
And I pull down her drenched panty, and she
hands me a condom, and I mount her, and
surmount her, and impale her, and plumb her
to her cervix.
And pound her, and pound her, and pound her
until we tense up, and can take no more, and
then release, and explode together.
After long minutes, “This was way better
than going to a movie.”
“I still want to see you in that denim
miniskirt.”
We laugh.
----------
The End
Harry Merkin (a nom de guerre) is a
dick-brain who is more articulate than an
arthropod and has many ways with words. He
tries desperately not to write like Edward
Bulwer-Lytton, but often fails.
NOTES
A. This short story is a fabrication.
B. The Licorice Fields at Pontefract by John
Betjeman (1954)
…
Red hair she had and golden
skin,
Her sulky lips were shaped for
sin,
…
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