This is my first ever attempt at erotic writing; indeed my first attempt at writing for publication. I hope you enjoy. I didn't use an editor this time, mistakes are all my own. Please be kind and constructive in the comments.
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Charlie was in a playful mood. She'd just finished painting a mural of sunflowers on her bedroom wall. Not that she should have done; her landlord would be furious, but she'd flirt with him with a vague promise to paint over it when she moved out. It wouldn't be a problem. She was aware of the effect of her femininity on people, something currently amplified by a crop top and flowing skirt, cut to mid thigh. As was completely typical of her, she was very late to the party, one of many that would punctuate the summer. She carried with her a bottle of home made mead; these had been a product of a short dalliance with a beekeeper a couple of years ago. She'd made it for that Christmas, but found out the hard way that it needed at least a year to reach maturity before it became drinkable. Forgotten at the back of a cupboard, she'd found it when looking for paintbrushes. It was perfect for the warm summer evening; a rare sunny August bank holiday weekend.
The party, held at the house of one of her extended loose groups of friends was hot and loud. To enter through the front door was to push through from the world of cool evening air into the conversation, music and dancing of another universe; like pushing through some metaphysical curtain. She moved through the party towards the kitchen, acknowledging her friends and acquaintances as she passed through the house. On the way she spotted the back door open as the party had spilled out into the soft August air. Snatching an empty glass and still carrying the mead, she headed for the relative calm of the garden.
She didn't see him, at first. He was lost in the crowd, just another stranger in the dark. Drink in hand and mead deposited, Charlie joined a group that included her ex-girlfriend Emily, with whom she was on good, invariably flirty terms. They acknowledged one another with a smile and a raised eyebrow.
"I don't think you've met Andrew yet, have you?" Said Emily, nestling up to a tall, dark haired man. He was more smartly dressed than anyone else at the party, wearing a jacket and an actual waistcoat, which exaggerated the width of his shoulders. He had an air of having walked out of another century and seemed ill at ease.
Emily laughed. She had remembered that Charlie could never resist a 'diffident chap'. She was matchmaking, again.
"Andrew, this is my good friend, Charlie. You can call her Charlotte, if she's been a bad girl."
Charlie looked up at Andrew, meeting a blue eyed gaze and shy smile. He quickly lowered his eyes in an endearing, boyish gesture.
"Hi, Andrew." She said, a playful edge in her voice. "Don't listen to Emily. She's just stirring, aren't you, Em?"
Andrew was looking at her again, his expression amused.
"So, you're never a bad girl, then?"
"I wouldn't say that."
Emily glanced between them both.
"I'll leave you two to it, then."
And she moved off, taking the rest of the crowd with her, leaving them alone.
Andrew was once more looking shy. Poor bloke. She would have to do the ice-breaking.
"So, Andrew."
"So, Charlie. Or is it Charlotte?"
"Only my mother calls me Charlotte. When she tells me off." She looked up at Andrew, searching those deep blue eyes and finding a spark of light in their depths.
He cleared his throat.
"Convention would suggest at this point, Charlie, that I ask you what you do."
"A big fan of convention, are you?"
"Not at all. In fact, I was wondering if you would like to dispense with convention, altogether."
Charlie moved a little closer to him. He smelled like fresh laundry, clean and innocent.
"Now, that's an offer I can't refuse."
Andrew offered her his arm. Very chivalrous.
"Fancy a walk?" He said.
She grinned at him.
"I should very much like to take a turn with you, good sir."
"Taking the piss?"
"Only a bit."
As they walked, he told her something about himself. He was an engineer, doing his post-grad.
"Hence the exhausted, hang-dog expression. I've been working my guts out. And, to be fair, I'm not really a party guy."
She looked up at him, his face shadowed in the half light.
"I thought you looked kind of sad."
He laughed.
"Well, that, too."
"Dumped you, did she?"
"She did. Broke my poor engineer heart."
She slipped her hand into his. The warm contact in the dark sent a fluid rush all through her.
"Hearts can mend."
Leaving the path, she led him into the park. He didn't resist.
Charlie's heart was pounding. She lead him into the closeness of the trees. She could hear his breathing in the dark, coming short and shallow. Turning her to him, he grasped the back of her head, finding her mouth, kissing her with fierce urgency. His hands slid up and down her whole body, making her gasp, then inside her top. Her nipple tensed against the sudden warmth of his palm, his flesh on hers, opening her up to his exploration. His hungry mouth against her neck, he pushed her against a tree, sharp in her back and shoulder blades. She slid her hands across his heaving chest and down, feeling him hard.
"I want you." She breathed into his ear.
He turned her around; She smiled at his moan of surprise as his fingers failed to encounter any knickers. She was more than ready for him and he entered her with a small cry. She cradled her face against her arms - protecting it from the roughness of the bark - as he thrust inside her. They quickly gathered a rhythm as their momentum built. Deeper and faster, until she heard his long, low moan, feeling him contact inside her. He fell against her back, breathing hard.
"Better?" She said.
"Better."
He slid down onto the soft grass at the base of the tree. It was a tree that had probably seen a lot of carnal activity, over the years.
She shuck her top and knelt down taking him into her mouth. She was not finished. His cry of surprise was quickly replaced by moans of building pleasure. She pulled his top off and removed her skirt as he slid his trousers down and off his ankles. She mounted him, her desires not yet close to being sated. Her pleasure rising, Andrew's hands traced up her sides and she clasped them to her breasts, her nipples pushing against his palms.
"Pinch them. Hard!" He obliged and her centre exploded in pleasure.
