from Elevation

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She walked across the crowded motel lobby in a snug red sweater, a short frilly skirt, and no panties whatsoever. Those she brushed past on the way to the elevator could have no way of knowing she was panty-less, but he still enjoyed entertaining the notion that all the men and women in the lobby knew she was naked under her skirt: the pudgy middle-aged businessmen in travel-worn suits, the young couples weary from driving all day, the parents padding wetly from the pool dragging soaked towels and float toys and irritable children behind them.

He knew she wasn’t wearing any panties because she had handed them to him in the restaurant, casually, as if passing a napkin.

They didn’t stick around for dessert.

from Elevation, by J G Cain

from Dirty Martini

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“Okay,” he sighed. “I give up. What makes your martini dirty?” he asked.

She finished eating the olive, and placed the sword onto a napkin. She eased her middle finger into her drink, stirred the gin inside with it, then pulled it out and slid it delicately inside her mouth. She removed her finger from between her lips with a slow reveal, skin wet and glistening. When she arrived at her fingertip she released the finger with an almost inaudible pop.

She traced a path down her chin and neck with her fingertip, clawing at her flawless white skin of her neck with her middle fingernail, leaving a wet and reddened trail in its wake. She continued down, between her tits and the subtle shadow of her hardened nipples, down her stomach and between her legs. She lifted the edge of the dress, pulling it up for him, showing him a peek of her hallowed thighs before sending her fingers disappearing under the hem of her skirt. He could see in her face the instant her finger insinuated its way into her pussy, the way her eyes widened and lost focus, the way her mouth grew slack. He watched her as she took her wet length inside, as deep as the length of her finger would allow, every inch.

She met his eyes frankly as she explored the depths of her pussy. He wondered if anyone else was watching this raw display, but was unable to take his eyes off her long enough to check.

After an endless moment, she pulled her finger almost shyly from under her dress and made the same deliriously sexy journey back up her body, except instead of returning her finger to her mouth, she slid it back into her drink. She stirred the clear cold gin with her scented skin, the taste of her pussy mixing with the liquor. After several swirls she took her finger back into her mouth, licking her finger not with her lips but with her tongue, from the base of the finger to the tip. Again, the almost inaudible pop.

“Me,” she said. “That’s what makes the martini dirty. I do.”

   –  from Dirty Martini, by J G Cain

from Business Casual

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He lay naked on the bed, his khaki pants neatly folded on the chair at the side, his polo shirt draped over it.

She stood at the foot of the bed, wearing a modest beige skirt and matching blouse, the dull black matte of the enormous hotel television a backdrop behind her. She kicked off her sensible heels. She unzipped her skirt and shimmied out of it, and when it was left dangling on her foot flung it onto the chair with a kick. She spent more time with the blouse, unbuttoning it one button at a time, maintaining simmering eye contact all the while. She opened the blouse, revealing the lacy bra that had been ticking in his imagination the entire day. She pulled the blouse off and tossed it next to her skirt.

Lacy bra and panties. He knew she had been wearing them; she had texted a picture of herself wearing them (and nothing else) that morning.

She hopped up onto the dresser counter that held the television. She slid off her panties, let them fall to the floor. She left on her bra.

And then in a move so fluid and cinematic it had to have been planned, perhaps even practiced, she opened the top drawer of the dresser with her toe. Her foot disappeared into the drawer, then returned into view with a thigh high fishnet stocking hooked onto her toe. She gathered the stocking with elaborate care, lifted her leg, and with studied slowness began to roll the fishnet up her leg. When she was done with the first stocking she slid her foot again into the drawer, pulled the matching stocking out of the drawer with toes foot, lifted her leg with a dizzying flair for the theatrical, and rolled it on her leg with the same considered slowness.

from Business Casual, by J G Cain

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Enraptured

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She lay beneath him, a finger deep in her pussy, another hooked around the chain between the nipple clamps, pulling on them, her tits pulled and distended from her body, knowing how much he loved the sight of it. She was performing for him.

He stood on his knees, between her legs, stroking his cock as he watched her, a pearl of pre-cum dripping down the tip of his cockhead with languid slowness. He saw the look in her eyes. He was performing for her.

They were bound in an ever-tightening net of desire, she watching him, he watching her, each performing for the other. Each the sculptor, each the stone.

He reached down to slide two fingers deep inside her, moistening them, using her juices to lubricate his hand as he jerked off. She pulled more tightly on the chain, her nipples thickening, her skin reddening. She arched her back, her head lolling, exposing her neck for him. He knew she was about to cum; it spurred his own gathering orgasm. She cried out, her body corkscrewing beneath him. He moaned low as hot white plumes of cum spewed into the air, onto her belly, her tits, the sparkling metal clamps that held her nipples tightly entrapped, her body helplessly enraptured.

from Bound

19494395523_3463f2d0b3_b“The lights were off, but the shades were open. A thin crescent moon lingered below the window, flinging a small fistful of grey moonlight through the glass, throwing pewter shadows across the generic hotel room set pieces: desk, two chairs and table, television, dresser, bed. The limited amount of light threw the features of the room into muddy black and white, but for the striking exception of the red leather collar she wore around her neck, the chain link of the leash glinting mischievously in the dim light.

She knelt before him, head bowed, her hair spilling forward. Her wrists crossed unseen behind her back. A small flower adorned the side of her head, tucked behind her ear. In addition to the collar and the leash, she wore black fishnets, petite silver earrings, a long strand of pearls. Nothing else. The room was dark enough so it seemed she wasn’t so much kneeling on the carpet, but planted in it, the fishnet transformed by light and shadow into root-like shapes, tendrils reaching up her legs. He could not see her pussy, as it too was shrouded in shadow, but he could smell it, keenly.

He followed the flow of her body with his eyes, moving up her legs to the silhouette of her hips, heady curves flaring out, then coursing in toward her waist before skirting out again. He felt more than saw the yearning in her breasts, waiting for his touch, nipples hard, skin flushed. His gaze lingered on the white slope of her shoulders, the regal line of her neck, the fragile grace of her collarbones like the wings of birds.

He approached her, stood over her. He touched his index finger to her chin, lifted her head, until she met his eyes.”

– from Bound, by J G Cain

Welcome to Serious Moonlight

Serious Moonlight

Serious Moonlight on Amazon

Every Friday for the next year, from Valentine’s Day 2019 to Valentine’s Day 2020, Serious Moonlight will release a new erotic flash fiction story.

Serious Moonlight is the home of smart and sexy flash fiction erotica by J G Cain.  Hot, playful, loving, subversive, humorous, theatrical, sex-positive and literate: it’s all in the mix.

Serious Moonlight tells the story of a man and a woman who are curious, creative, sexually adventurous and deeply in love. These stories push often hardcore BDSM up against loving and tender exchanges. They make no distinction between what is dirty and what is sweet, what is brutal and what is gentle, what is play and what is real, what is love and what is lust.

I hope you will join us in the moonlight.