Introducing “Crave”: An All-New FREE Short Story Series

Hey, friends. There’s a good chance you’re spending a lot of time at home right now.

And in these times, a little self-love is in order.

With that in mind, I’m starting a series of brand-new steamy short stories, right here on the blog. These nuggets are meant to be a pick-me-up…a quick little something to read before bed, before breakfast, or anytime.

They’re unfiltered, unedited, and 100% smut. They’re about connection. Contact. Pleasure. All things I’m craving right now. We need to be able to visit a happy place for a bit, and over here, smut = a few moments of much-needed sanity.

I’ll be writing faster than my usual pace to get these out to you regularly.

Tune in for weekly(ish) updates, and check out the first story below!

Stay safe and healthy–

Love,
Miranda

_______

Trouble

by Miranda Silver

Copyright March 2020

M/F, neighbors, slight age gap (older woman/younger man)

_______

A square of light shows from the window next door.

Nick’s room.

It’s eleven pm on a Monday night in July, I’m camped out at my parents’ house licking my wounds from my broken engagement, and instead of pulling down my shade like a well-behaved neighbor with a healthy respect for privacy, I’m leaving it up and sitting in the dark.

Because framed in that square of light is the sculpted chest of a boy.

A boy I used to babysit, back when being five years older than him meant knowledge and authority. At least in theory.

Now he’s a man. And it’s his choice to flaunt his abs through the open window. But he doesn’t know I’m sitting here watching.

As a kid, Nick was hell on wheels. Every time I babysat, his parents would thank me profusely for being the only sitter who could stand him and his brothers. It helped that they paid profusely, too.

Nick was the ringleader, the mastermind. Smart, but a rabble-rouser. There was the chemistry experiment that almost blew up the kitchen, the illegal fireworks he snuck into the backyard and charged the neighborhood kids a fortune to watch him set off. An experiential learner, his mom would say, exhausted.

I wondered about him now and then, when I went away to college. The hell-raiser teetering between success and destruction. I had a soft spot for Nick, and I kept my fingers crossed for success.

Now I’m twenty-six, back home, and spying. My love life is in shambles, and right now, I don’t care if this is wrong. He’s standing directly in front of the window, turned slightly to one side. He unbuckles his belt. My window’s closed, but I hear the clink.

When he opens his fly, I squeeze my legs together. The tattoo on his shoulder catches the light.

Early this morning, the sound of wheels on asphalt woke me. I crept to the window facing the street and saw Nick taking his family’s trash and recycling bins to the curb. It was cool out, the summer heat not yet in bloom, but he was shirtless, his nipples pebbled and his pajama bottoms riding low on his hips. I hadn’t realized he was home from college.

I haven’t been home much myself the past few years. Busy with grad school and Kevin, who just tossed me aside like a crumpled tissue. Better to end this now than after the wedding, Ella.

So I missed seeing Nick transition from boy to man.

And in the quiet morning light, he was magnificent. It took my breath away. Lean and beautiful, his short brown hair glinting in the first rays of sun that cast purple shadows over the street. His jaw was sharp, his cheekbones defined. A tattoo swirled over his shoulder. He was full of energy and life and God, I wanted those right now.

Without thinking, I ran outside barefoot, got our bins from the garage, and dragged them next to Nick’s at the curb.

“Hi Nick,” I said breathlessly, like a seventh grader with a crush. “It’s been awhile.”

His face broke into a grown-up version of his trademark mischievous grin. “Hey, Ella. Too long.”

He took me in as I stood in front of him. Braless, in my tight white tank top and little polka-dotted shorts. His eyes drank in my face and lingered on my breasts, my thighs. When I glanced down, my nipples, dark and puckered, poked insistently through the sheer white fabric.

“I guess it’s pajama day,” I joked, but my laugh caught in my throat.

“Then every day should be pajama day.”

“It pretty much has been. I’ve barely changed out of mine since I got home.” I looked away.

“Yeah, I heard that your wedding’s off. I’m sorry.” He put his hand on my shoulder. When did he get taller than me? Like, six inches taller? “He didn’t deserve you.”

“That’s really sweet, but you know absolutely nothing about my ex-fiancé.”

“So tell me something to make it true. I hate being a liar.” He flashed that grin again. Total ladykiller smile. He had to know its effect.

“Fine. Let’s see…right before we broke up, he told me he could see me being the mother of his children, but he couldn’t see having sex with me for the rest of his life.”

Jesus, why did I share that? Nick let out a long, low whistle. I flushed hot and backtracked. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“Wildly inappropriate. Moms are sexy.”

“Nick…”

“You’d be a very sexy mom.”

“Okay, okay.” I held up my hands, laughing.

“You’re sexy without being a mom, too. He’s an idiot. And guess what? He didn’t deserve you.”

“All right, and you’re not a liar.”

He cocked his head, studying me. “I turned twenty-one on Saturday.”

“Happy birthday.”

“It was. But the party’s not over yet. Wanna help me celebrate?”

Heat spread from my cheeks to my chest. “How?”

“We go out, I buy you a drink, you tell me more wildly inappropriate things.”

I should turn around. I should go inside right now.

“Why would you buy me a drink for your birthday?” I teased.

“Fine, you can buy me a drink too. And I can distract you.” His eyes flicked to my hips. My shorts were pushed up, caught between the soft apex of my thighs, outlining the triangle of my pussy. “You seem like you could use some distraction.”

Sweet dampness trickled into my panties. Under Nick’s gaze, I felt wanted. In a way I never had with Kevin.

“I think I better stick to making a blanket fort on the couch and watching Netflix,” I murmured.

“Okay.” He shrugged. Something flashed in his blue eyes. Disappointment? No, not that. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

As I turned and walked to my front door, I felt his eyes on my ass. I knew that glint in his eyes. I’d seen it enough times.

Trouble.

Now, standing in my darkened bedroom, I stare at the show in the window opposite. I spent hours camped in front of the TV tonight, but this show is much, much better. Nick unzips his fly and eases his jeans down. An obvious bulge tents his boxers.

And then the boxers are off, too.

He’s naked, stunning, and aroused. And looking straight at my dark window, his face suffused with lust.

Does he know I’m here?

Is he tempting me?

His cock is gorgeous. He grips the shaft, stroking it slowly. As I cup my own breasts in the dark, rubbing the soft curves through my shirt, I imagine dropping to my knees. Taking his cock in my mouth. Swirling my tongue worshipfully over his head as he tells me what he likes.

It arouses me to think of submitting to him, after spending all those years telling him what to do.

“Nick,” I moan. I pinch my nipples to tight buds while he leisurely jerks his dick. My mouth waters when I see a bead of precum glistening at the tip.

It’s so intimate, sharing this moment with him.

And so wrong, because he doesn’t know we’re sharing it.

Does he?

Buzzing with excitement, I slide my hand into my shorts. Slickness greet my fingers. I find my sensitive clit, circling faster and faster. His hand blurs on his cock. I’m so aroused, sensations buzzing through my slippery pussy. Excitement gathers, tightening as I imagine Nick seeing me. Penetrating me. Fucking me.

This is it. We’re going to come together, his cock spurting jizz while I cream my shorts over the hell-raising boy who’s all grown up.

And then he stops. He lets go of his dick, walks to the light switch, and plunges the room into darkness.

A piece of cardboard is slapped against the inside of his window. Streetlights illuminate the thick black writing:

If you want more, come over and show me yours.

After a minute, it’s flipped to the other side: I’ll give you what he never did.

My heart beats fast.

That sign was pre-made. He’s planned all of this. He knows I’m watching, maybe even saw me. The fucking audacity, the nerve…

I slip out of my parents’ dark house, careful to avoid the creaky boards in the hallway, and race across the grass. It’s dewy under the bare soles of my feet. I’m just going to talk to him. To tell him all of this is “wildly inappropriate” and needs to stop.

When I round the corner, he’s waiting outside by the gate to his back yard. His eyes spark, as if he weren’t sure whether his little game would bring results. He pulls me into his backyard, onto his family’s covered patio, and catches my arms in his hands, holding me at arm’s length.

He’s wearing boxers, nothing else. The faint moonlight and shadows of the summer night play hide and seek with his lean torso and tattoo. His boxers mask his arousal, but I can feel it beating at me from every inch of his skin. I know exactly how hard his cock is, pushing out the plaid cotton. How sweetly muscled his ass is.

“I guess it’s still pajama day.” My voice comes out husky. “I never changed.”

I follow his gaze as it travels down my body. My tank top is pulled down lower because I reached inside to touch my breasts, showing off the soft flesh of my cleavage. My nipples push out the thin fabric, begging to be sucked. And the crotch of my tight shorts is pushed completely to one side, revealing the plump mound of my pussy barely covered by silky purple panties. A dark spot shows where my excitement has soaked through.

“Nick,” I begin.

“I see you’ve already gotten a start on showing me yours.” He flashes that ladykiller smile. “Nice, Ella. Very nice.”

“I’m just here to talk to you.” I try to summon a shred of authority, but I don’t convince even myself.

“Are you? Or are you here to take your shirt off?”

Silence mounts between us. A vein pulses in his forehead. His blue eyes flicker.

“If you’re just here to talk, tell me now. Tell me to let go of you and I will.”

“Your family—” I begin.

“Fast asleep.”

“You saw me?”

His mouth twitches. “I saw you come in your room, turn the light off, and leave the shutters open.” When I don’t move, when I don’t tell him to let go, his smile widens. “I wonder what you were doing in there?”

He knows. Have I lost my mind? I’m creaming myself in Nick’s arms — his big, strong arms — as more juices trickle into my panties.

My skin tightens into goosebumps. Fuck it, fuck it all. I don’t care about anything right now except the excitement coursing through my body and Nick’s grip on my arms.

I grasp the hem of my tank top and slowly, slowly pull it up, until my breasts spring free.

“Damn,” he whispers.

Nick’s eyes are glued to the soft, round curves and hard rosy nipples. He releases my arms so I can lift the shirt over my head.

“You’re incredibly sexy,” he murmurs. “I always knew you were.”

“Thank you.”

My throat closes. Kevin hadn’t thought I was sexy. He saw me getting softer in the time we were together, saw me as a piece of furniture he could sit on and use. But Nick is hungry, riveted.

I hook my thumbs into my shorts and begin to slide them over my hips.

“Not like that,” Nick says softly. “Pull your panties out of the way between your legs. Show me how wet you are.”

His orders turn me on beyond belief. Planting my bare feet further apart, I pull the soaked crotch of my panties to one side. The movement exposes my aroused pussy, showing a glimpse of the tender pink folds, shiny with juices. My swollen clit peeks out.

Nick growls and squeezes the erection pushing out his boxers. Lust hangs thick in the air. I moan, because it’s so erotic.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he mutters. “Stay like that.” He comes close, one foot between mine, his dick inches from my exposed pussy. “When was the last time you had sex, Ella?”

There’s something so personal about the question, and so intimate that he’s asking. Stripping away a layer, making the encounter more vulnerable.

“Two months ago. Give or take,” I murmur.

“Was it good?” He holds my gaze. “Was it ever good?”

I shake my head. Even in the best times with Kevin, he never looked at me like I was the only drink that could quench his thirst. I never pounced on him in wild abandon.

Nick’s voice lowers to a secret. “And so you came home.”

My breasts rise and fall. The air between us is charged. “I did.”

“You’re here at this house where I used to run you ragged. I always knew you liked me, no matter what I did. You never said I was a bad kid. You were sweet to me. Well, I liked you too. Now you’ve watched me masturbate. You’re practically naked. Showing me your beautiful tits and your horny, needy little cunt.” I groan as his dirty words wash over me. “Tell the truth, Ella. What do you want?”

“I want you to touch me.”

His face lights up in that smile, and there’s that glint in his eye that can only mean trouble.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

His hands cup my face in a moment of unexpected sweetness, then glide down my neck and over my collarbone to my breasts. I suck in my breath as he takes his time fondling and caressing the round curves.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” He rolls my nipples between his fingers, tweaking them to points.

“God, Nick, oh God…” My breaths come shallowly.

“Jesus, Ella, you are so horny.” The crude words make my pussy spasm. “You’re about to turn into a puddle of gush on my patio, and I haven’t even touched you below the waist yet.” I reach out for him, and he stops me. “No, don’t let go of your shorts. Keep showing me your pussy. Do you like when I tell you what to do?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good.” He grins. Definitely trouble. “Because I’ve always wanted to boss you around.”

He brushes his fingertips over my belly, making me shiver. Then he takes hold of the elastic waistband of my shorts.

“Allow me. I’ve been thinking about doing this since this morning.”

I let him peel off my shorts. I’m so turned on that my juices cling to my panties as he skims them down my thighs. Naked, I snag my fingers in his boxers. They’re on the floor in seconds. And Nick is bare in front of me, showing every inch of skin.

“You’re beautiful,” I breathe. “I love looking at you.”

His cock jerks as I stare, thick and veined.

“Just looking?” His voice is strained, his muscles clenched. He’s holding back now. Waiting for my next move.

“And touching.”

I run my palms over his shoulders, his chest. His skin is hot, smooth, and I wander over the dusting of hair on his chest and his tiny hard nipples. My fingers dip down his abs, seeking what I want most. Finally, I stroke his hard, hard cock, velvety and big in my hands.

He groans, thrusting forward in response. Eager. Young.

I lean forward and we kiss. It’s sudden and surprising and sweet. He lifts my chin with his fingers and our tongues brush again and again. When his hand cups my mound, I moan into his mouth. Fingers slide into my folds, finding my clit and flirting with my opening.

“What do you want, Nick?” I murmur when our mouths finally separate.

“To fuck you.” His breath brushes my ear. “Duh.”

I snort with laughter. He kisses my cheeks, my nose, my eyelids.

“I want to fuck you, Ella. I want to bury my cock in you and fuck you into next week.” His voice is charged. God, his free hand is cupping my breast, pinching my nipple harder and harder. Any good sense I had was left at the curb with the trash bins this morning. I can’t stop caressing his hot cock and heavy balls with both hands.

“I know I gave you hell when I was a kid.” He drags his tongue over my neck. “Let me make it up to you.”

I’m panting, answering with my own tongue, sucking the salty skin on his neck until he curses and grips my pussy. I take his earlobe between my teeth.

“Will you make me come?” I whisper.

“Jesus, yes. You have to ask?” He swears under his breath. “Damn right I will.”

“I want to fuck you too, Nick.”

He kisses me again. And again it’s so sweet. We’re panting for each other, we both want it, but he’s not jumping on me — yet. Finally, he breaks free, his blue eyes glazed like he’s drunk.

“Lie down.” He points to the glass-topped patio table.

“Which way?” I ask saucily.

“On your back.” He’s flushed, grinning like he just won the lottery. “Spread your legs for me.”

He helps me up and opens my legs even wider once I’m sprawled on the table. It’s the same table that’s always been here. Memories from ten years ago push up against now. I focus on the man in front of me, whose eyes are gleaming with mischief that he finally gets to call the shots.

Bending down, he sucks on one puckered nipple, then the other, until they’re tight and aching. I dig my fingers into his lithe back.

“Oh God…”

He kisses my stomach, stroking my thighs over and over.

“Please,” I gasp.

He slowly spreads my pussy open, gliding his thumbs along my outer lips, until I’m ready to scream.

“Now, Nick.”

One finger teases the sensitive tip of my clit.

“Since when do you have this much patience?”

He lifts his head and grins. “I don’t. But it’s worth it to hear you beg.”

He buries his face in my pussy. I shriek and bite my fist as he sucks on my clit. A hot tongue pushes against my tight entrance, lapping up my juices. When he fills me with his fingers, I slide my hands into his hair, only wanting to touch him. I try not to make too much noise.

I’m so aroused, and he’s so good, that my excitement builds fast. I rush closer and closer to the peak. His fingers press hard against my g-spot, fucking and twisting. His hot soft tongue licks my clit relentlessly, over and over, until I come with a gasp, shoving my pussy into his face.

He doesn’t let go, doesn’t stop licking me through my spasms of pleasure. Not until I sigh his name and drop back against the table.

As I fall back, he straightens. He gazes down at me, looking very pleased with himself. His lips are glazed with my juices.

“I can’t decide,” he says softly, resting his hands on my legs to keep them open, “whether to fuck you face-to-face, or take you on your hands and knees. I’ve thought about it both ways.”

“Why choose?”

“I like the way you think, Ella. Scoot to the edge of the table.”

My skin is damp with sweat. I wriggle across the table until my ass is on the edge. God, we’re outside, in his backyard, someone could walk out here any second…

Then he pulls my ass up against his crotch, squeezing the soft curves in his hot hands, and I forget about thinking. His cock presses against my pussy, thick and strong, and I let out a gasp when he penetrates my wetness.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Ella…”

He sinks into me, working his way little by little. I reach up to clutch his sculpted shoulders. I’m tight, but so slick that soon he’s fully buried in my cunt. He leans his weight against me, his muscles flexed, his hands braced on the table.

As exciting as it is to take him inside me, it’s the way he says my name, the look in his blue eyes as they lock on mine, that drive me crazy.

“Nick.” His name spills out. I press my forehead to his arm, and he growls.

“Look at me while I fuck you.”

I obey. I’m in his hands and I love it. I love the thrill of naughtiness from taking Nick inside me. I love that the tables are turned after all these years. I love letting him call the shots.

He thrusts hard, drinking in my gasps and cries like he’s been starving for them. Like they’re the only sounds he’s been wanting to hear. It’s sharp and sweet and good and I squeeze down on his thick cock, wanting his release…

He pulls out, panting.

“Get up.”

I push myself unsteadily to a sitting position, take the hand he offers, and climb off the table. Naked, pulsing, giddily aroused.

“Turn around. Hands on the table.”

His orders are clipped, like he can barely find the words right now. I do as he says.

Hot hands pull my thighs apart, and my palms flatten on the glass table. I moan as he strokes my pussy, peeling open the swollen folds.

Then the blunt head of his cock finds my opening and sinks into my cunt.

The patio blurs. I grip the table as it wobbles and shakes. He’s absolutely pounding me, harder and faster than anyone ever has before. It’s so intense that I can’t fuck him back.

I can only be fucked.

Smashed, about to explode.

When he comes, he roars. I shudder with pleasure, feeling the slap of his balls against my pussy.

Finally, his thrusts slow. When he pulls out, my pussy grips him tight, wanting to keep him there. I let out a sigh once he’s gone. His cum oozes down my thigh, and I shiver when he kisses my shoulder.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers. “You okay?”

I nod, because talking feels like too much right now. I lean over the table, trying to catch my breath. My heart is pounding a thousand miles an hour.

“So good, Nick,” I manage.

He runs a finger down my spine. It traces the curve of my ass as if he has every right to. As if he’s free to touch me wherever, however he pleases.

“So…” he begins. and the word hangs there. I realize that after all his recklessness and audacity tonight, after he’s just fucked the shit out of me, he’s nervous. Because he can’t read me from the back. “Are you gonna spend all day in your pajamas again tomorrow?”

I turn to face him and reach up to stroke his shoulders. “I might, if it ends like this.”

That troublemaking grin lights up his face.

“Or maybe I’ll put on actual clothes and buy you a birthday drink,” I continue.

“Maybe you will. Or maybe you’ll let me treat you, now that I’m legal.” He leans close. “And I can…distract you some more.”

“I hope you will,” I giggle, and hug him around the neck. His lean, hard body feels so good against my soft curves. He leans against the table, watching with the telltale glint in his eye as I put on my tank top and shorts.

I kiss him on the lips. “Sleep tight,” I murmur, and begin to walk away.

“Ella?”

I stop and turn. He’s still leaning against the table, naked. Something tells me Nick has an exhibitionist streak.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still have that blue dress?”

I raise my eyebrows.

“You know the one. Little light blue dress with buttons down the front that always looked like they were going to pop. You wore it all through the end of high school and when you came home in the summers from college.”

My cheeks turn warm. I do know the dress in question. I haven’t worn it since I started dating Kevin. He thought it was too short, too low-cut…too frivolous. Act your age, Ella.

“Of course I still have it.”

“Wear it when we go get drinks.”

The order warms me like a trickle of alcohol down my throat, fizzing in my belly.

“I will.”

When I look back over my shoulder as I leave, he’s smiling. And in that smile, there’s the promise of a hell of a lot of trouble.

_______

Thanks for reading!

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Liked this story? Find my books on Amazon.

XOXO
Miranda

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