I’ve got a funny story for you. A funny story I need to get off my chest. I can’t share it with any of my friends, so I’m sharing it on a kinky message board full of strangers. Well, it is the Internet.... Although the Internet provides a sense of anonymity, names have been changed to protect the innocent (and not so innocent). Job-related details have been distorted to protect my identity, but despite the ambiguous details, this is a true story. A story very worthy of the acronym FML. *Disclaimer* This is a short erotic comedy. Not a novelette, novella, or novel, but a short story. Ironic is the first installment in The Kinky Connect Chronicles. The Kinky Connect Chronicles are short erotic stories all wrapped up in a neat little bow. No cliffhangers in the lot!
There’s no reason for a single, thirty-five-year-old woman with intellect, a sense of humor, her own apartment, and a body to die for—such as myself—to not be getting laid on the regular. Well, aside from the fact that I haven’t had much time to date.
I do happy hours, and I go out with my girlfriends when I can spare the time, but still, a steady guy hasn’t happened. What Jason and I have is nice, but he’s not the long-term guy. And as appealing as the opposites-attract ideology is, in an election year, we’d likely want to kill each other. I’ve been told I’m too picky. Why is that always the case? Why do women always get called out for having standards? Like we’re just supposed to fall for any guy who gives us the time of day? Whatever.
My philosophy? Why the heck shouldn’t I be picky? Picking a new man is like selecting a new purse. When you have the means to acquire top quality, you don’t go for bargain-basement brands. Aim high, ladies, aim high. If you can afford the cream of the crop, why not indulge?
I know my worth, so I hold out. One day I just might get lucky, but I’m a realist. There’s no breath-holding over here. True love is overrated. Until a suitable prospect comes along, emergency dick will do just fine.
The closer it gets to one in the morning, the antsier I become. I try to forge ahead with my Good Wife marathon, but I find my attention span isn’t what it was a few hours earlier. Julianna will understand; we can reconvene at a later date.
When I get up for a glass of water, the smooth cashmere moving over my naked flesh makes every step toward the kitchen agonizing. My clit pulsates as the material caresses my nipples. The water quenches my thirst, but I need something stronger. I’m naked, single, and horny in the wee hours of the morning. Bad, bad, bad.
Harper Miller is a thirty-something native New Yorker. She's traveled the world and lived in a variety of places but always finds her way back to the Big Apple. A lackluster love life leaves time to explore new interests, for Harper it is writing. The Sweetest Taboo: An Unconventional Romance is her debut novel. In her mind the perfect Alpha male possesses intellect, humor, and a kinky streak that rivals the size of California. When she isn't writing, Harper utilizes her graduate degree in the field of medical research. She enjoys fitness-related activities, drinking copious amounts of wine, and going on bad dates.
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