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American Taboo: Erotica

EDITORIAL FEATURES

American Taboo: EroticaWelcome back to the Fleshbot Book Club—your chance to get a sneak peek at some of the hottest erotic literature out now. Today's selection comes from American Taboo, by Madison Ava Jones.

The next night, I needed to take a car out to Brooklyn to meet a guy who a friend was trying to set me up with. I held the phone in my hand, deliberating whether I would ask for Andrew when I called the service. I decided not to. The date was incredibly dull and I headed back home in a taxi. I got out a few blocks from my apartment in SoHo to stop at the corner store to buy some groceries. When I came out and started walking home, I saw a black sedan parked in front of my apartment building. The window rolled down as I approached it. It was him.

"I thought I told you to ask for me," he yelled out his window. He was smiling. I started to have second thoughts if he was the one. Maybe he was one of the psychopaths. I smiled politely back.

"I must have forgotten," I told him as I kept walking. I heard his car door open and the clack of his leather-soled dress shoes as he walked behind me. There was nobody around and I quickened my pace. Just as I turned to put my key in the door, he moved in front of me to block me from entering. He had the same smug smile on his face.

"Don't forget next time," he said to me in a pleasant voice. His British accent seemed especially thick. I looked toward the door to express my desire to get by him. Instead of letting me by, he drew up closer toward me and placed his hand on my side. I thought of screaming but the both of us knew that there were cameras at the top of the door. He spoke to me.

"There is something about you that is so irresistible," he said in a low voice. "I don't know what it is, but your body seems just made to get fucked."

I glared back at him in a look of disgust and pushed his hand off of me. I tried to move past him but he blocked my way. His hand rose and glided around my back. "That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies," he said. As I was trying to digest the words, he suddenly grabbed me tightly and before I knew it, he had his other hand up my skirt. He took hold of my panties and tried to pull them down. I struggled and screamed. He had a firm hold of me and was strong. He ripped them down to my knees before I could do anything, and then held me with both hands to keep me still. He looked at me as I was gasping in shock. My mind was racing in every direction.

"Let them drop," he said calmly. I looked back at him. I could feel my heart beating through my chest and had both hands on his chest to keep him from me. He was almost methodical in the way he did it. My mind was racing, wondering if someone was watching this on the security camera. I heard someone running down the street toward us and turned to see a man coming to help. He was about 200 feet away. I glared back at Andrew and he didn't budge. I squeezed my legs together and let my panties fall to my ankles. He calmly let me go and reached down to pull them off. I stepped out of them. He took them in his right hand, turned and walked away.

"Don't forget to ask for me next time," he said. He was halfway to his car by the time the man reached me from the other direction.

"Are you alright? Do you want me to call the police?" he asked.

I followed Andrew's figure as he strolled down the street.

"No, it's alright. We were just having a little fight," I told him.

"Are you sure?" the man asked. "You looked pretty scared."

"It's fine," I reassured him. I lifted my keys to the door and my hand was shaking. I held it still to get the key in and open the door. I thanked the man and hastily slipped inside. When I got up to my apartment, I dropped to the couch and held my hands between my legs to stop them from shaking. I thought I was going to cry. Maybe I should call the police, I thought. What if the building security saw it happen and came to my apartment to question me?

I played back the event over and over in my mind. His hands holding my body down and feeling totally helpless. His steely blue eyes locked on me. How shocked I was that he would just attack me right there in front of the building. The feeling of my panties being ripped off like that. The other play rapes had always been initiated by me. I could feel how out of control and helpless it could really be this time. I decided right then that I couldn't handle this one and would call the police if he approached me again.

I pulled up my skirt. There were red marks where he had to force them off my waist. I felt violated. I went to the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the tub. I removed the rest of my clothes as it filled up. I stared at the red lines on my waist that were still there. The sensation of suddenly feeling the bareness under my skirt kept playing out in my mind over and over. It seemed like I was looking down at my underwear around my knees before I even knew what was happening.

The fact that it was all over and that I was going to put an end to it helped my mind to relax and to put it at a distance from the ordeal. I closed my eyes and ran my fingers over the tender marks on my waist. I already knew what I was going to do. I turned off the water. I put my back to the door and closed my eyes again. I slipped my fingers between my legs and touched myself. His order to "let them drop" ran over and over in my head. I became aroused instantaneously. I fondled myself and spread my legs just a bit. I said his words out loud to try and remember the sound of his voice.

"Let them drop."

My breath quickened again like it had on the stoop of the apartment building. I knew how quickly I was going to orgasm. I could hear the water dripping into the tub like it was the loudest echo in the world.

Excerpted from American Taboo by Madison Ava Jones.

The book is also on sale at Amazon.

Copyright (c) 2010 by Madison Ava Jones.

If you're an author or a book publicist and you want to participate in the Fleshbot Book Club, send email to Lux Alptraum.


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