I'm giving away my erotic short story anthology, 'Coffee with Cock', today (11th May) and tomorrow (12th May) and hope you take advantage of me by snaffling a copy for your entertainment/stimulation/gratification.
Please let me know if you do, and, if you have the time and inclination, let me know what you thought. I would really love to hear from you!
Here's an excerpt from one of the stories, 'Home is the sailor', in which a young and insecure woman finds she has an important decision to make: to jump, or not to jump. For those amongst you who may be curious, I took the story's title from the excellent nautical book by Jorge Armado.
Excerpt from 'Home is the sailor'.
Moonlight reflected in smiling ripples that formed a silver pathway stretching to the horizon. The night turned her telescope around on me, belittled me, shrank me into inconsequentiality. Out here, on an endless ocean beneath an infinite sky, I was no longer an I, was not even a dot on an i. I was nothing. No matter how hard I tried, I was still nothing. And yet, somehow, I could be anything. The vastness freed me, liberated me. My young heart pounded with the primal thrill of it. My possibilities were endless.
At the bow of the massive vessel, with the sharp sea breeze in my face, I felt totally alone; a carved figurehead on an abandoned ship, chin raised defiantly, long hair flapping like a black pennant. My silk dress clung to my teenage curves and trailed behind me like a milky slipstream. The warm wind isolated me from the music, the chatter, the clinking and clattering. It swept up the wash of sound and bailed it over the stern into the ship’s swirling wake.
An albatross mewled and hovered like a ghost above me, while to the north a bank of fog, hundreds of feet high and miles across, stole silently upon us. I was reminded of a line from Coleridge’s most famous poem:
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay that bring the fog and mist.’
Praying for clement weather, I raised an imaginary bow and pierced the bird's heart with a speeding arrow. Its beady eyes simply stared at me then it wheeled away into the blackness.
That was when I noticed the stars. I'd never seen so many. The Milky Way swirled, casting me to its furthest rim. My head spun, vertigo tripped me and I clung to the cold steel rail for support. A firm hand on my hip steadied me. Warm breath turned my head from the baffling breeze and spilled words into my ear.
‘Are you okay, Miss?’
‘Yes, thank you. I...’
‘I thought you’d decided to leave us!’
I turned towards my would-be saviour, a young officer in his pressed white uniform, peaked badged hat on his tilted head. Two gold bands gleamed on his epaulets and amusement flashed in his dark eyes. He was tall, tanned, clean-shaven and had the most beautiful smile.
My hip was still in his right hand and I raised my eyebrows, gave him what I considered a clear message, but his hand remained. I tilted my head and pursed my lips. He smiled again and quickly took his hand away. We stood silently for a few moments, the buffeting wind now a constant accompaniment. I shouted over it.
‘It’s the vastness. The emptiness. It takes my breath away.’
He nodded.
‘One can lose oneself out here. Be careful, Miss. The sea can change you forever.’
He saluted, turned away and strode back towards the lights and the partying crowd. He was right. I felt changed; lost and afraid, as though standing on the edge of a great unknown. Though my past was with the bustling raucous throng, my future was with the powerful silent sea. I jumped.
‘Cabin two-two-three.’
He stopped, half turned, and cocked his head again in that distinctive way of his.
‘Sorry, Miss?’
‘Two-two-three.’ I looked at my watch. ‘Shall we say ten minutes?’
He seemed to look through me, beyond me, so much so that I turned to see what he was looking at. On the horizon, a watery moon waved her last goodbye. I stared at her till she sank and drowned, not daring to look back at the young sailor. Was he still there? My heart thudded. What must he think of me? What was I thinking? When I turned again, he was gone. I strutted swiftly across the deck, avoiding the laughing, revelling travellers, and went below, straight to my cabin.
It was tiny. There was no porthole, no romantic view of the sea. Just a bed, a wardrobe, a desk and chair, and a tiny en-suite. I sat on the bed, ran my fingers through my wind-swept hair and stared into the mirror. The dress looked suddenly too old for me; the shoes too high; my make-up too heavy. When I was nine, I used to dress up like this. Now, at nineteen, I was still the little girl in the grown-up clothes. Learning to walk before learning to run. So inexperienced. So shallow. What if he comes? What will this girl do? I pressed my knees together, pressed my palms to my face and breathed deeply.
Rat-tat-tat. The knock machine-gunned my senses. Rat-tat-tat. The second volley tore out my guts.
‘Miss?’
The muffled voice pulled me to my feet. I tiptoed to the door, placed my palms and ear against it.
Rat-tat-tat.
I jumped backwards and fell onto the bed. The handle turned. The door inched open. An eye. A nose. A face. A smile. He took off his hat, placed it under his arm and stepped inside.
‘Sorry, Miss. You just seemed to vanish. I even wondered if you… you… you know? Jumped!’
My dress, seductively split to the thigh, had opened up. My legs were bare. He tried not to look, but failed. I stood quickly, smoothed down the white silk and swept hair behind my ear. In a way he was right. I had jumped. And I was still falling.
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