Author's notation: Generally when I write a story, my usual preference is to complete it. Then, during my first edit, go through the storyboards and see if there are sections where adding a sex scene would be useful.. Explaining a character's background or maybe their lack of character. Setting up for late actions or trying to fill in past scenes that need to be fleshed out. So to speak.
I have some large novelette/novel size stories where I have already written some of the sex scenes. And they turn out to be complete enough, in themselves, to be stand alone short stories or at least masturbatory aids. I call these my Sexcerpts. Sorry, I'm addicted to bad punning.
So, for those readers who do not want to be bothered with anything more stimulating then suck & fuck, I dedicate these Sexcerpts to you. When you're finished whacking off, please go wash your hands.
Thank you - fanfare
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So, Who is Cuming for Breakfast?
It was the wafting scent of fresh brewing coffee that convinced Mizz Leslie to pretend she was awake enough to look at the big snoring lump in the bed next to her.
'Oh yah, that's Mister Leslie...so whose making the coffee? It's not like that lummox Paul to get his lazy ass out of bed this early, any morning.'
Driven as much by curiosity as my deep craving for caffeine, I slipped out of bed and followed my flaring nostrils to the kitchen.
I started when I noticed it was another woman. Oops! Paul must have brought her home late last night from his date after we had already gone to bed. I pretended to be polite, cause I'm jonseing for my morning coffee fix and I mumbled "Good morning."
It was her turn to jump in surprise. She faced me and, way too brightly for what ever the hell time it is, greets me with "Oh good morning. I apologize if my crashing around the kitchen woke you up."
With blurred eyes I squinted at that lying clock. 5:20?...A.M.!! You gotta be kidding me!
"Nahh, it always the smell of coffee that prys my big butt out of bed in the morning or I would never get up before noon." I grumbled.
"Sorry, but I'm so use to getting up this early for the Pre-Market Reports. I make up for it with naps in the afternoon."
"'Salright, hon. I've met crazier. 'Scusemwa. Nature's yelling."
I absentmindedly scratch my boobs as I lurch around and skeedaddle to the bathroom for an urgent pee.
As I come out of the lav I noticed that she is curled up on the couch watching the CNN business news turned down low.
An attractive, exotic looking woman, must be wearing one of Paul's old tank-tops, her satiny blue panties just visible with that shapely cute butt. Oops, she caught me staring as I walked to the kitchen. She smiled at me hesitantly, and tried to tug down the t-shirt.
Giving me a nice view of her bosom, maybe 32C or 34B though I'd say the woman was a few inches shorter then me, 5'4"? and maybe 100, 110 pounds at the max. Long black hair, rich olive skin with pale blue eyes, overall some undefinable exotic beauty.
Trying to make light of my curiosity, I joked "Don't worry honey. Around here we are rather clothing optional."
Of course I was just wearing the top of a rather sheer, pale mauve negligee, that left nothing to the imagination. She got the better gander at my goodies, coming and going, then I've had of hers. I got a mug out and poured my first of many for the day. I am such a fiend for caffeine!
Then returning to the living room, I collapsed into the old overstuff chair after putting a towel down.
I was slurping the hot liquid and observing Paul's friend, when I noticed she would only pay attention to the screen when a specific woman reporter was on. It finally dawned on me that she and the reporter resemble one another.
As soon as the station broke for commercial I said "Hello, I'm Leslie. Leslie Thompson."
She blushed and sat up straight and said "Where are my manners? I am Sherry Esfahan. Paul and I uhmm...last night, we ahh, kinda hit it off. Though actually we have known one another and been dating off and on for the last couple of years."
I worked to keep from snickering but my poor sense of propriety could not resist the opening lines she just fed me "Yep. Last night my fellow and I, we did a whole lot of uhmming and ahhing and hitting it right out of the ol'ball park, ourselves. While mixing it up with an assortment of offing and oning."
She blushed so hard I thought she would spontaneously combust.
The pre-market report came back on, but when the woman reporter did not reappear right away, Sherry quickly seemed to lose interest and looked back at me. We both started to speak at the same time. So I motioned with my free hand for her to go ahead as I slurped at my coffee.
She seemed perplexed and did the twisty thing with her gorgeous, wavy, long black hair before asking "The thing is, the impression I got from Paul was, that his roommate is a man?"
Oh boy! Paul is sweet but he is proof that sometimes, nasty insults such as 'empty headed ditzy blondes' have some underlying truth to them. Don't get me wrong, in his own way he is as nice a guy as my Mister Leslie. But its a good thing for Paul he's going to inherit a shitload of Canadian money one day cause he couldn't imagineer his way out of a wet paper bag.
I waited to respond until I returned from the kitchen with the coffee pot and refilled both of our mugs. She kept a straight face as I stood real close in front of her, slowly bending over to pour and just letting everything sorta dangle with my legs immodestly spread.
Her eyes scanned up my body to give me a challenging look when she finally met my eyes. Also I know I get more then a little whiffy after a night of lovemaking, I could see her inhale and then a little pink tongue peeked out to moistened her lips.
I returned from the kitchen and sat down with my second cup, skooching right next to her on the couch, pressing my bare left leg against the bottom of her shapely feet. Nice pedicure, dark red nail polish I noticed. Embarrassed at the contact she tried to move but I put a hand down to hold her feet against my leg. Her breathing became quick and shallow.
I figured I better reply with a noncommittal, me and Mister Leslie just have way too much fun with new people trying to figure out how we could have the same first and last names to not milk it for all the humor impossible "Yeah, well, my fellow's also living here. Probably Paul just spoke without thinking, he does that a lot you may have noticed. Probably a side-effect of having blonde roots."
Sherry was about to defend him when the woman she was watching for appeared discussing something about the Euro versus the Yen versus the Dollar on the arbitrage market. I gathered the reporter's name was also Esfahan. As soon as she was off I asked "Is that pretty lady your sister?"
Proudly she replied "She is my Step-Mother, Persia Esfahan."
As I gaped at her, I was thinking that Leslie and Leslie weren't going to throw her for the loop I had hoped. Damn it! I hate it when you know a good joke is going to crash and burn but once it's launched there are no retrieval codes.
"She can't be more then few years older then you!"
"Actually ten years older then me. A year after my birth mother had died, when I was six Persia was married to my father. As her side of the family owed him a huge debt for his assistance in helping them escape the traitorous Khomeini tyranny.
Persia took over the role of mother for me and housekeeper for my father. Sadly, two years later my father suddenly dies of a coronary. She took advantage of her new personal independence to go to college and then University. Her hard work earned her top grades and that got her top job offers. She was fast-tracked through a couple of international arbitrage funds before joining CNN in New York City this year, as an on-air analyst and commentator."
"Now I am living here in the OC to attend Jamboree University's International Law program. Every weekday morning I get up to watch for her, I miss her so much. Watching her, even for a few minutes a day, comforts me and leaves me feeling less lonely. After ten a.m. Pacific, she'll be off the air unless there's some crisis or breaking story. Usually she'll be free for a while and we can chat online by webcam to keep in touch."
I bit my lip while listening to her, then blurted out "God, I'm so jealous! My sister Virginia and I have a very bad relationship. And my parents always take her side against me, no matter how flagrant her offense to me. That's why I came here to Southern California, to escape from that suffocating burden."
She looked troubled at my confession, silently she fiddled with her coffee mug as I emptied mine. We had placed our empty mugs down on the table when she broke the tension with a thoughtful question "Since your parents are the enablers, I'm guessing she constantly demands a monopoly of their attention?"
I nodded wondering where she was going with this "Well, perhaps it's not my place to make gratuitous suggestions...?"
I interrupted with a vigorous nod of my head and a wave of my hand "Yes, yes, Please. Gratooey away. The Good Lord knows, nothing I have ever tried to reach her has worked."
