The Lighthouse
20m
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Pathways to Pleasure: erotic romance adventures
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An erotic romance adventure: It hit at midnight, just as the calendar switched from 1899 to 1900. Waves hitting the rocks sent sea spray twenty feet into the air. The winds raced at near hurricane speeds in what people would later call the New Year’s Day Storm.
Kate stayed up through the night keeping the kerosene lamp burning. It's huge, rotating fresnel lens cast a pulsing light over the sea. Her lighthouse was the only hope passing ships had to make it home safe.
From the moment she’d buried her father two years ago, Kate took over duties full-time at the Deception Island lighthouse. As a young girl she’d help him. Now she did the work alone carrying heavy equipment up and down the hundred-foot tower’s winding stairway, feeding the livestock, hauling logs from the beach, chopping firewood, and all the other tasks that living on an island required.
Lean muscle, earned from hard work, skin tanned by the sun, black shoulder-length hair inherited from her mother, and dark sea-green eyes from her father, Kate would have stopped any man, and possibly some women, in their tracks. She would have, that is, if anyone else lived on the island. She was alone and liked it that way.
By sunrise, the storm blew itself out. Waves that only hours ago threatened seaman’s lives, now looked only two feet high, rolling gently to the shoreline.
Finally, Kate could climb down the stairs and make her way up the hill to her house. But first, she took one last look from the top, scanning the horizon, then turned and looked down the beach. Something had washed ashore. She grabbed the binoculars. It was a body still halfway in the water.
“Oh, my god”
Her flight down the stairs seemed to take forever, as if the 100-foot tower had suddenly become a mile high. She ran along the beach, heart pounding, muscular legs pushing against wet sand.
It was a man lying on his back, face pale, lips blue. She kneeled, putting her ear close to his mouth. He was still breathing but in short shallow breaths. Kate knew she had to act fast or he’d be dead in minutes. Running to the barn she hitched up the horse to the wooden sled.
The sled was meant for hauling logs, but that day it would carry a more precious cargo.
He was heavy, but Kate’s strong arms managed to pull him onto the sled. She urged the horse onto the house. Then dragged the man inside and laid him on the floor in front of the fireplace. She quickly built a fire, ran to the kitchen, fired up the stove, and tossed a blanket into the oven.
As the fireplace warmed the room she started to put another blanket over him but realized his wet clothes would keep him cold. She had to take them off.
Not wanting to waste time unbuttoning it, she tore open his shirt, lifted his back, and pulled the sleeves off his arms. Laying him back down, she rubbed his chest in an attempt to warm him. Then pulled off his boots and socks. She stopped and stood up. She’d been so focused on saving his life that she hadn’t thought about what she was doing. Still, it had to be done. Those cold, wet pants had to come off.
Untying a rope belt, then unbuttoning his pants, she tugged at them. The wet cotton pants were heavy making it difficult to remove. She finally got them down to his ankles and pulled them over his feet.
Only his underpants remained. Soaked through, the cotton cloth clung to him perfectly revealing the shape of his manhood.
Kate decided to leave the underwear on. Somehow it seemed too invasive to strip this unconscientious man completely.
Running to the kitchen, she grabbed the heated blanket from the oven and laid it over him. Then put another one on top of that. His lips were getting some color back, but his breathing was still coming in shallow, shaking breaths.
Kate reached under the blankets, rubbing his chest hard, but he was still dangerously cold. She knew she had to warm him fast or she would lose her...
The episode The Lighthouse from the podcast Pathways to Pleasure: erotic romance adventures has a duration of
20:50. It was first published
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The Neighbors: an erotic mystery romance
I know you won’t believe me. But it did happen. At least, I think it did. To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure anymore.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start at the beginning.
After my wife died, I bought a boat and have been living on it ever since. I wanted to avoid people and the boat seemed like a good way to do that. I like the solitude.
And every year, from late Fall to early Spring I pretty much had the marina to myself, except for a few other live-boards who also make the marina their year-around home too.
But starting in May, boating season hits. People everywhere. They show up in droves. Fair-weather sailors, sport fishermen, drunken crabbers, weekend boaters, and loud children running up and down the docks.
That year it started early with the low rumble of a diesel engine.
-- -- -- -- --
“6 am! Who the hell docks their boat at 6am?”
I peered out my starboard window. A sailboat, looked to be a ketch about 42 feet long, was pulling up to the slip next to me. I might have taken notice of how beautiful it was, except I was grumpy, hadn’t slept all night, and was just nodding off when they arrived.
At any other hour I would have gotten up and helped them land, but damn it, not today. I rolled over trying to get back to sleep, but my new neighbors didn’t seem to care.
“How’z it look, hon?” a man yelled.
A woman answered. “You’re doing fine, babe.”
“Better hang a couple fenders on the other side, we don’t want to bump that boat next to us.”
“On it.”
“Okay, we’re coming in. Watch my bow. Good thing there’s no cross wind, I hate these leeward slips, but this is the only one they had left.”
“You’re looking good… A bit slower… Cuddle up close… There, I’ve roped the cleat.”
I heard a thump as she jumped off and secured boat.
The engine stopped but they kept talking and making noise for the next hour and eventually walked off.
But by then I was fully awake.
“Damn it. No use trying to sleep now.” I got dressed and headed off for breakfast.
I didn’t think about it at the time, but I remember walking down the dock to a weird sort of silence. The seagulls were on the breakwater as usual, but none were calling and the sky was empty.
A flyer on my windshield said ‘please move your car to the overflow lot before 6pm today. We’re having our Annual Boating Season party here.’
I could see they were already building a stage.
“Damn, I hate May 1st.”
-- -- -- -- --
Marcy, the owner/waitress of her little 5 table cafe smiled. “You’re here early.’
“Yeah, well I’m probably going to come back for lunch and dinner too.”
She laughed. “Hiding out in town, eh? The marina getting a little too full for ya? You know if you keep this up every year you’re going to turn into a lonely, grumpy old man.”
“But Marcy, I’ve got you and your fine cooking. What else could a man want?”
“If I was 20 years younger I just might take you up on that… So, you want the usual?”
-- -- -- -- --
It was nearly sunset when I got back. The lot was thick with people. Country music blared from the stage. Three large barrel-shaped barbecues, one with steak, one with salmon, and a third with hot dogs, flavored the air.
I had to admit it smelled pretty good. I spotted the beer kegs, turned, stepped on someones foot, and knocked a cup out of her hand dumping beer on the ground.
“Ow! That hurt.”
“Sorry,” I said bending down to retrieve her cup.
What I saw as I rose nearly knocked the wind out of me. My eyes scanned her body as I stood.
Long, slightly muscular legs, with tiny, barely visible blond hairs, red running shorts, a white t-shirt tied at the waste revealing a firm slender belly, nipples pushing hard against the fabric.
Standing now, we locked eyes. My god. Wide...
The Club: an erotic romance. A couple rekindles their love at a lifestyle swingers club
‘Mildred’. She always hated that name. Thirty-four years ago, her mother named her that, despite her father’s protests. He thought it was too old and stuffy sounding, so he always called her Millie.
Who, Millie wondered, looks down at their cute baby and names it ‘Mildred’? It was a name only used when she was in trouble.
And now, Liam had called her that. It was their first fight in years.
Right after dinner, he said he had something he’d like to talk about, but, yikes, what did he expect her reaction to be?
“What?… Are you kidding me? A swinger’s club?
“Well, Millie, I thought we could, you know, give it a try.”
“I’m not good enough for you? Is that it?”
“No,no. Really. Thats not it. I love you. You know that. It’s just… it feels like we’ve drifted away from each other. We haven’t made love in months and…”
“I’m tired, you know that. I work long hours just like you.”
“I know. I know. But we’ve gotten into a rut. I mean every night in bed you’re on that damn cell phone, we hardly even touch.”
“Don’t blame me, you’re playing with you phone too.”
“Well, what else am I supposed to do? Every time I reach for you, you tell me you’re too tired.”
“That’s because I am. I just want to relax before going to sleep.”
“Yeah, fine. But tired every friggin’ night?”
Millie frowned. “Well, you’re not exactly Mr. Romance either. The closest you come to kissing me is that little peck you give me when we head off to work.”
“Mill’s I don’t want to fight. I was just thinking maybe we could, you know, try something a little different.”
“But a swing club?”
“Well, Millie, I just thought It might spice things up to see other couples making love, and, maybe us too.”
“Liam, you mean, make love in the same room with other couples watching us?”
“Yeah. And we’d be watching them to. It might be…”
“No! No way.” She stood up.
“Mildred, I think you’re over-reacting. It was just a suggestion, I…”
“Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.” Millie stomped to the door leading out to their garden and slammed it shut. Liam knew better than to follow her. The garden was her place, her little sanctuary.
Frustrated, and maybe feeling a little guilty for upsetting her, Liam went off to bed.
Moonlight dancing on the koi pond usually calmed her, but not that night. The more she thought about Liam’s proposal, the angrier she got.
But later, laying beside him in bed, watching him sleep, Millie knew he loved her. They’d known each other since secondary school, went to the same university, marrying soon after graduation.
They’d always been faithful to each other. Their relationship was rock solid.
So what, she wondered, got him to thinking about such a thing?
Still, the sight of his bare, uncovered chest, his clean manly scent, and the warmth of his body, was doing its thing to her. She squeezed her legs together and wondered what it would be like to play with him in a room full of other people. What would it be like to watch other women admiring his body as he moved on top of her?
Millie rolled on her back, opened her legs and began moving her fingers over her moistening lips, caressing her hardening nib.
She imagined riding on top of Liam, a man watching her even while he mounted his woman. Moving up and down on Liam’s shaft and arching her back to put on a good show for her admirer.
The orgasm came fast and powerful. Millie cuddled down next to Liam and let sleep descend upon her as she wondered what it would be like to see Liam with another woman.
Sometimes Millie had to leave for work an hour earlier than Liam, so he was used to waking up to an empty house and fixing his own breakfast.
But today, toasted crumpets, two hard-boiled eggs, and a bowl of fruit were arranged on the table.
A note, slipped under the juice glass had one word…...
The Emerald City: an erotic romance
The cab driver glanced at the young woman in back. “You new here?”
Though she tried to appear sophisticated, Kathy knew she looked out of place in the city. “Does it show?”
“Yeah, a little,” the cabbie laughed. ”Let me guess, you’re a runaway from Kansas hoping Seattle is your Emerald City over the rainbow?”
“Something like that… Ohio actually.”
The taxi pulled over. “Here you are, 217 Seneca. Good luck, Dorothy,” he joked.
Kathy paid him, grabbed her suitcase and stepped out. The apartment building looked worn out and dusty, but inside it had an inviting, old school ’80s feel to it.
Her room, however, was a different story with its cold, white walls and bare linoleum floor.
‘Was this a mistake?’ she wondered.
Her Mom had tired to stop her. “It’s crazy,” she’d said. “All you have is a job interview waiting for you out there. No guaranteed work and just a couple months of money. What are you thinking?”
But now, standing in the empty room, 2000 miles from home, Kathy felt like she’d gone to the other side of the planet. Maybe Mom was right.
Taking another look around the room she knew with a little inexpensive decorating she could warm up her two-room apartment. “No,” she said out loud. “This feels right. This little country gal is going to take on Seattle and make it hers.
____________________________
”Tom Bronson hated parties—this one especially. It was filled with socialites, lazy people born into old money, and women trying to be someone, anyone, other than who they were. Hoping to marry into that money, they circled the rich like sharks looking for an easy kill.
“Oh, shit," he muttered to himself, “here comes one now.”
“Tommy, darling, are we having a good time? They told me you’d be here. I missed you at last week’s yacht club gala. Where ever were you?”
“Hello, Cybil.”
He knew those were the only two words she’d allow him to squeeze into their conversation. He tried to keep up, be polite, but as she babbled on about parties, charity banquets, who’s marrying, who’s divorcing, who died—his interest was plunging lower than her neckline.
Finally she took a breath, giving him a brief opportunity to jump in. “Sorry, Cybil, but I have to leave. Here, you can have my drink if you like.”
Before she could answer, he handed her his glass and ducked away, hoping no one would notice his escape attempt. But two sharks were swimming by the door.
“Oh, Tom, we were hoping to…”
“Sorry, I was just leaving.”
“But, really you should stay…”
“No, sorry. Important meeting. Gotta go.”
As he stepped out to the street, he felt like a lucky seal who’d somehow managed to escape the jaws of death.
The wealthiest man in the city, he always felt out of place in so-called ‘high society.’ His was a fortune made from hard work, careful planning, and taking calculated risks––all things he’d learned when a teenager, working on his father’s boat.
His dad had a way of wrapping up a world of wisdom into one simple sentence. “You won’t make it out here, son, unless you keep your eye on the weather, chart a steady course through these seas, and put your back to the work.”
Tom missed him.
____________________________
Kathy put down two grocery bags and then remembered she hadn’t closed the door.
“Hey, neighbor!”
A smiling face peaked in throwing a flurry of non-stop words.
“Hi, my name’s Megan, but everyone calls me Meg. I’m right across the hall from you. Oh, I’m so glad this room will finally have a happy person in it. The old man that lived her shot himself, you know.”
Kathy’s eyes widened, “What?”
“Oh yeah, right there in the middle of the room. Blood everywhere.”
“Oh, my god!”
Meg laughed. “Kidding, kidding. I couldn’t resist.”
“Meg!”
“Sorry about that. Here, I brought you something to eat. There’s enough for two if you...
The Landlubber: an erotic romance
It was a windy, gray autumn day, but Aryn didn’t mind. She never let the weather stop her. Every day, five times a week, she did the one mile jog from her house to the Coast Guard Station. She’d skippered rescues boats for three years. But today was special.They’d be trying out their new one, a 45 foot RB-M. The boat was named Tilly, after some Rear Admiral’s dog.
She stopped at the top of the hill and looked out over the sea.
Five foot swells were rolling in, wisps of sea-spry blowing off their tops. In the distance she could see the flag at the station flying straight out. It’s going to be a rough one out there today, she thought with a smile. Aryn loved being out on the water, the rougher the better.
She’d spent most of her teenage years working with her father hauling in salmon on his purse seiner. The sea was part of her DNA, she couldn’t imagine living inland.
Aryn sucked in the clean salt air and finished her down-hill run to the station. No one was in yet. She always arrived early enough to take a shower and get ready for her day. Finally, wet and clean, Aryn was toweling off when she heard the crew.
Barney, Aryn’s second in command, shouted at the entrance to her shower room, his voice echoing on the tile walls. “You in there? Coffee’s on.”
“Yeah, Barney. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Working uniform on, Aryn grabbed a cup. “You boys ready to take the new boat out?”
Tom, the new guy, nervously looked out the window. “You sure this is a good day for it?”
“Don’t worry rookie,” she said. “Tilly will do just fine.” Aryn gave Barney a wink. “The boats designed to right herself if she capsizes. I’m told that actually works. Well, at least most of the time.”
“You’re kidding right?”
Barney returned Aryn’s wink. “No, really, They tested it. The boat popped back up after a knock-down at least, what was it Aryn? Five times out of ten?”
“Come on,” Aryn laughed. “Let’s take her out.”
The wind was howling through the trees as Aryn climbed aboard, ran the blower, then started Tilly up. Barney and the rookie cast off the lines, then joined Aryn in the cabin as she backed the boat from the dock and headed out.
When they cleared the breakwater Aryn turned Tilly west to meet the waves head on. The boat’s bow rose at each crest and plunged down in every trough. Aryn turned the boat sideways to the waves causing it to rock violently side to side. Tom was turning green.
Barney whispered, “You’re being a little hard on the kid, ain’t ya?”
“Just testing Tilly out,” Aryn laughed. But she nodded to Barney and pointed the bow back into the waves, slowing the engine down.
“Well, would’jah look at that,” Barney exclaimed.
“What?” said Aryn.
“To our starboard, there about 100 feet out.”
A small boat, maybe only 18 feet long was passing them, heading into the swells at full throttle, jumping out of the water as it crested each wave.
Barney looked through the binoculars, then handed them to Aryn. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said.
“Take the wheel, Barn.” Aryn stepped to the window, searched through the powerful lenses, then spotted the boater. “Is that…?”
“Yep. One of those fair-weather ski boats with nice cushy seats in the front so you can get a tan.”
“Damn”, she said. “Open bow.” As she watched, the driver waved. He was laughing.
“Well,” said Barney, “Looks like he’s having a good time.”
“Good Time?” said Aryn. “I’ll bet ya dollars to donuts the idiot’s going to drive deep into a wave and swamp that thing.”
The small boat headed off towards the islands, but Barney kept Tilly straight. “Well, we can check up on him on our run back.
Barney and Aryn took turns at the wheel, putting Tilly through her paces. The rookie finally got his color back and was working the deck.
Let’s go check on that halfwit and his boat now,” Aryn said.