Erotic Stories by Alicia Night Orchid

Wow, what a crazy few days. No sooner Ray return from China, than I'm off to NYC for a few days. I'd originally intended to stay only through last wekend, but once I got there and finished my business on Friday and Monday, I decided to extend my visit a couple of mpre days. I stayed at up hotel on the upper east side near 76th and 5th Ave. Cafe Boulud was right next door and the Children's Entrance to Central Park was less than a block away. The ubiquitous Star Bucks was three blocks away on Lexington as was the subway, which I rode everywhere.

By the time last Tuesday rolled around, I had found my bearings and adjusted to East Coast time. I spent the early to mid-mornings writing in the lobby or at a coffee shop--pretty much like I do here in Redondo-Hermosa-Manhattan Beach. Afternoons, I was a total tourist. I did the Musueum of Natural History, the Guggenheim, saw the Frick Collection and the statute of liberty. One long afternoon, I devoted entirely to Power Shopping. I'm talking the kind of shopping Fifth Avenue and 55th offers with the kind of money Ray makes as a Rocket Scientist, not the kind of money I make as a writer. I'm talking new Manolo Blahniks. I"m talking a slinky new dress from Michael Kors and a Louis Vuitton handbag.

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I've been traveling the last couple of days, but pausing for a breath this morning. I'm clear across the country from LA, staying the weekend on business in New York. I love the thrum and hub-bub of this great city. Truly, there is no where like NYC.

A couple of very good happenings this week. First, my story "Taste of Love" was selected to appear in Oysters and Chocolate 's, first print anthology due out in bookstores in March of 2009. The story originally appeared on that website a couple of years ago in a contest they ran when the website was just getting launched. It's a lesbian romance spun around a long evening of dining. I always thought it was good story and I'm glad to see that it was chosen over 300 other entries to make the final cut for the anthology. I've been published in print under my real name, the name I write mainstream fiction under, but this is the first time my erotica will appear in print. I love being published on electronically, but there's still something about making it in print.

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Rays's back after weeks on the road. He could have stayed in Beijing for the Olympics, but he's had enough of life on the road in hotels, surrounded by people who speak a different language, embroiled in a world of different customs. He says I should go with him next time, says I'd enjoy China, the people, the food, the scenery. He thinks I'd get a kick out of the almost Victorian attitude the government takes toward sex.

I don't care much about all of that. What I care about is that he's home after weeks on the road.

I want to curl up next to him on the sofa. I want him to hold me and tell me how much he's missed me. I want to feel his two-day beard on my cheek and his fingertips on the back of my hand.

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Forest and grass fires ended our idyllic trip through Big Sur. Kate and I never made it to San Francisco and were forced to return to LA after our incredible journey. Where this leaves the two of us is hard to say. Friends for sure...and after the trip, something more.

Ray is due home at the end of next week and I've been trying to get as much work done as possible before his arrival and an our anticipated reunion. I've been pretty successful in getting my work published online at places like Cleansheets, ERWA, Oysters and Chocolate, and Ruthie's Club. And winning that prize with Desdmona last summer was a pretty big deal. But I've not really tried publication, prior to this year, in print anthologies. But lately, I've been busy.

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I've seen two of the largest old homes in America--Biltmore in Ashville, NC and Hearst Castle near San Simeon , California. The first was built by George Vanderbilt for his family to live in. San Simeon was built by Willian Randolph Hearst as a love nest for his mistress. Marion Davies.

Our fourth day out, Kate and I spent most of the morning there, before heading on up the coast ot Big Sur The scenery was spectacular. Off in the distance, grass fires burned and smoke clouded some of the passes. Once a magnet for beatniks, like Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Jack Kerouac ,now a haven for artists and wealthy spa-goers. We turned right at unmarked Sycamore Canyon Road (the first paved road past the post office) and drove two miles to Pfeiffer Beach, where the currents have carved arches in the sandstone and greenstone rocks. It was just us and the seagulls.

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Late that night, long after we'd both turned in, I was awakened by movement. I watched Kate rise from the bed--she wore only panties and a tee. I could see the outline of her nipples through the tee and a peek of cheek. I listened to the soft sigh of her piss through the open door. She came back inside and lay down opposite me. I could tell she wasn't asleep.  She tossed and turned.  I asked if she were okay. Just restless, she said. Can I get you anything, I asked. I'm really wound up, she said.

I slid over to her bed. We propped the pillows side by side and turned on the TV. I ran the flipper, channel to channel. We eventually settled on the old Cohen Brothers movie, "Raising Arizona." About half way though I fell back asleep. I woke up in Kate's bed, the sun pouring in. We spooned together, her nipples pressed to my back, her pelvis against my rump, her hand on my breast Her long legs entwined with mine. Snoozed quietly.

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Sitting there on the balcony of our hotel, over a bottle of wine, Kate asked about the first time I'd been with another woman and how I'd known it was right for me. I had to think back a ways, but I still remembered that hot summer in New Orleans, when a red-headed woman 15 years my senior seduced me.

I was in law school at Tulane. I was hanging in there with my studies, but I was struggling personally. I needed an outlet for my creativity. I wrote short stories on the side. I took a job at a famous French Quarter restaurant, where I worked the cook line. Lark was the sous chef. She was tall and curvy and angry most of the time, with a snarling red mouth and hot green eyes. She spoke with a Europen accent, but never said exactly where she was from or how she got there. She was a lesbian, through and through, the kind who dislikes, even disdains, men. She made it plain from the outset that she wanted me.

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I'm interrupting my ongoing Highway 1 road trip reportage (which also includes a hot lesbian romance element) for an ANNOUNCEMENT. I've just posted a new story on my Erotic Stories page, entitled "Bitch Tonight."  

Ladies, if you're curious about FemDom games and especially about what it might be like to like to slide a strap-on inside your male partner's tush, this could be just the story for you. Gentlemen, if being dominated by a woman in that special way has ever been a fantasy of yours, I think you'll enjoy "Bitch Tonight."

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After a cozy evening in Santa Barbara--we dined at  Ca Dario, deservedly rated the best Italian restaurant in Santa Barbara withe excellent service and food and reasonable prices--we hit the road again, with a detour into the wine country.

The drive up along Route 154 is replete with spectacular vistas, craggy mountains and rural settings. We had lunch at the Los Olivos Cafe (in the movie "Sideways-" it's the place where Miles et al have dinner and he calls his ex-wife drunk), before hitting the Firestone and Curtis wineries on the Foxen Valley Trail.

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With Ray out of town, I hit the road this week. My friend Kate and I have been talking about a road trip for some time. She finally took a little time off from her job at the big uptown law firm and I took a week off from the new novel I've been working on and a story just finished for an upcoming print anthology.

Some readers may remember Kate from a story I wrote a couple of years ago, "Party, Party." Here's how I described her in the story:

"She was petite and smart. She was brunette and hard-bodied. A lawyer with one of the big firms on Wilshire, she negotiated movie deals. She wore glasses to obtain what she referred to as the “gravitas effect.” Behind the glasses shined the loveliest brown eyes I'd ever seen. "

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