Cosmopolitan Sexy Stories Volume 2

Millie Perry

Description

Another brilliant collection of erotic short stories from Cosmopolitan, the world's best-selling magazine for young women.. In volume 2, you'll meet the woman unsure she can handle her new man's racy fantasies, the girl hoping her salsa teacher is into really dirty dancing, the detective taking surveillance to a whole new level, the shy shop manager having dirty thoughts about her tube-ride crush, and the city girl who's working very hard to please her demanding boss.

Sujets

• Erotic literature

Informations

• Publié par: Hearst Magazines UK
• Date de parution: 27 février 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781905563746
• Langue: English

Extrait

Table of Contents
Copyright
Foreword
Dirty Dancing by Millie Perry
The Foot Man by Daisy Johnson-Thompson
Morning Wood by Fuchsia Weeks
Untold Secrets by Alicia Fox
Office Affair by Jenny Anderson
Other books from British Cosmopolitan
Copyright

First published in Great Britain 2013
Copyright © 2013 Hearst Magazines UK (The National Magazine Company Limited)
The expression COSMOPOLITAN is the registered trademark of the Hearst Corporation INC and the National Magazine Company Ltd.
ISBN: 9781905563746
Published by Hearst Magazines UK (The National Magazine Company Limited), 72 Broadwick Street, London W1F 9EP
All rights reserved. You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
Foreword

Within mere days of the release of Cosmo's Sexy Stories: volume 1 , we were the No.1 erotic short story collection on Amazon!
You couldn't tell us how much you loved it. Which is why we decided we had to provide your e-reader with more, more, MORE!
The world's biggest women's magazine has a long history of publishing fiction. Many of the stories that have appeared in Cosmopolita n have been seriously steamy reads - but the five tantalising tales here are our sexiest yet.
Each naughty nugget is sizzling, steamy and short enough to read on the bus, tube or at lunch.
In volume 2, you'll meet the woman unsure she can handle her new man's racy fantasies, the girl hoping her salsa teacher is into really dirty dancing, the detective taking surveillance to a whole new level, the shy shop manager having dirty thoughts about her tube-ride crush, and the city girl who's working very hard to please her demanding boss.
If you enjoy their red hot stories, look out for Volume 3. And if you missed Volume 1, well, you know where to find it…
Enjoy!

Louise Court
Editor
Cosmopolitan , London
Dirty Dancing
by
Millie Perry

Ellie wants her hot dance teacher to take her for more than a spin across the floor. But is Marco really her perfect partner?

Ricky Martin blasts out of the speakers as we push our way through the club to the bar.
“It's like 2002 all over again,” Amy shouts over the noise.
I grin back. It's Friday night and after a long week at work, we're hitting the vodka. Hard. It's already been four hours since the first drink passed our lips and we're nowhere near done.
“Two double vodka and diet cokes,” I ask the barman.
“Why don't we do this more often, Ellie?” Amy asks.
“I hate my job,” Amy says, taking a long sip of her drink and sliding into a booth.
“I know, hon, but something will come up soon,” I say. “In the meantime, we are here to have fun.”
“You're right,” Amy says.
We down our drinks and take to the dance floor. The club is packed and there are men doing some seriously embarrassing dad dancing.
I spy our friend Anna waving her arms around in the corner and we squeeze past some bump and grinders to join her.
“I didn't know you came here,” I say, giving her a hug.
“Oh, yeah, I do dance classes on Wednesdays and then come and show off my moves on a Friday,” Anna laughs.
“What dance classes?” I ask, one eye on Amy who is by now doing some serious Beyoncé booty shaking with a hot man.
“Salsa,” Anna says. “You guys should come. It's a lot of fun. A bit like ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ without Craig Revel Horwood giving you the evil eye. It's really hilarious. And Marcos, the Salsa teacher, is hot!”
“Sold!” I say. “I'll try it.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Amy snogging the hot random in the middle of the dance floor and sigh. She always pulls on nights out. I wish I had her guts.
“Come on,” Anna says, taking my hand. “It's our song.”
All the Single Ladies is playing and I smile as she starts showing off her nifty foot work and men stare. Looks like those salsa lessons have taught her a few moves. I stick my left hand in the air. Maybe it is time to get a few moves of my own.
***
Next Wednesday evening, and the club looks completely different with all the lights on. As Amy and I make our way downstairs to the basement bar, it becomes clear it's even tackier than it seems at night after one too many. The wallpaper is peeling where it meets the ceiling, the floor is sticky and there are some seriously grubby stains on the sofas.
But Salsa night is popular. There are at least 30 people chatting while a few cheesy tunes play in the background.
I spot Anna at the bar talking to a guy. We make our way over to them, stealing sideways glances at the rest of the Kimberley Walsh wannabes. There are a few marrieds in their forties, a gay couple, but the rest are twenty-something women.
“Severe lack of hot men,” Amy groans.
“Well what do you expect?” I whisper back. “Learning to pull off a perfect paso doble is hardly on most blokes' bucket lists.”
“Ready for a dance off?” Anna asks.
But I barely hear the question.
The man next to Anna has turned around - pushing my heart into my mouth and flipping my stomach inside out. There's heat spreading up from my knickers through my body and revealing itself in my face, which is blushing furiously. Oh, God! He's what can only be described as a sex god. Six foot of delicious black curls, olive skin and five o'clock shadow on the most handsome face I've ever seen.
I know I'm staring, but I can't help myself. His mouth is moving as he holds out a hand towards me, but I just stand there. Still staring. My heart is beating so quickly I can hear the whoosh in my ears over the chatter and music. Amy pinches my arm.
“Hello, Ellie, I'm Marcos,” sex god says in a sexy accent. He's gently laughing at me; his mouth is twitching as he tries not suppress his amusement. I shake his hand limply.
Anna shakes her head and mouths, “He's gay.”
Typical. Of course he is. And even if he wasn't, why would a man like that want to act out any of the fantasies currently racing through my head with me ? The flush subsides and my knickers stops singing. I tune in to the conversation.
“How long have you been teaching salsa?” Anna asks.
“Since I left school,” he says, looking at each of us in turn. “And I'm thrilled Anna has brought her friends along. We'll have a lot of fun. I promise.”
He winks at me and I can't help but sigh.
Within minutes, we're lined up, following his footsteps, circling our hips and learning to place our arms. Of course, Amy is my partner and we're trying not to snigger as we move back and forth without stepping on each other's toes. It's not exactly a scene out of Dirty Dancing .
An hour later and I've danced with nearly everyone in the room. My stomach hurts from laughing. It's the most fun I've had in weeks but I get the feeling my feet are going to ache tomorrow morning. As the class comes to an end, we gather at the bar.
“Same time next week?” Marcos asks. “You've got potential.”
“Seveeeen!” Anna shouts in her best Len Goodman voice.
“We wouldn't miss it,” I say.
***
It's freezing as I stand outside waiting for Amy. She's never on time, but this is ridiculous. Finally my mobile rings.
“I am so sorry,” she says. “I've got to work late. I'll make it up to you, I promise.”
Brilliant. There's no way I'm going in on my own and making a fool of myself. I turn to leave - and bump straight into Marcos.
“Hey Ellie, how are you?” he says with a grin. Despite myself, I blush. He might never be into me, but Marcos has the most amazing… well, everything. Awkward.
“Great, thanks,” I say. “But Amy can't make it.”
“No problem,” Marcos says. “I have a partner for you.”
Perfect. There goes my get-out plan.
Marcos holds the door open for me and I make my way inside. This is going to be a hideous night, no doubt spent trampling all over some stranger's feet.
Muttering to myself, I head downstairs with Marcos following behind, only to trip and stumble down the last couple of steps, landing on my knees with a thump. If I thought I had any dignity left from last week's lesson, it's gone now.
Shaking my head, I'm suddenly aware of a pair of black shoes right in front of me and a hand reaching down to help me up.
“Are you okay?” a voice asks; one whose accent matches Marcos’.
I glance up as I take the hand but lose my balance and end up on my arse when I see his face. A slightly older version of Marcos is standing there, all Brazilian and beautiful. He's looking down at me with identical dark eyes, the same olive skin and black hair.
And he's having exactly same effect as Marcos had on me the week before. He pulls me to my feet and I blush. Again. Talk about “I carried a watermelon” moment. Marcos stands watching with a smirk on his face.
“I see you have met my cousin, Alfredo,” he says. “Fred, this is Ellie.”
“Hi!” I inspect my stockings - thankfully they haven't laddered - and run my hands over my little black dress. Thank God I had a work meeting which I made an effort for instead of turning up in jeans as I was so tempted to do this morning.
“Are you okay?” Fred asks. His eyes travel down from eyes to my legs, which are being to feel heavier by the second.
“Fine, thank you,” I say, trying to ignore my throbbing knee which is matching the throbbing in my pants.
“Come.” Fred is still holding my hand. He leads me to the bar where the others are gathered have a pre-lesson drink. Anna's chatting to a couple of guys who weren't here last week, but her mouth drops open when she sees me and Fred. I shrug and smile.
“Ellie, where's Amy?” she asks looking behind me as Fred orders me a drink.
“She's working late and can't make it,” I say. “I just stacked it on the stairs and fell at Fred's feet, literally. I've never been s