Adera Orfanelli

Snakes In The Grass
erotic contemporary short story (erotica)
Release Date: June 2012
Buy From Changeling Press

Nothing gets steamier than the Everglades in summer, except Irina's fantasies about her fellow wildlife officer, Javier. When a summer thunderstorm curtails their hunt for feral pythons, Irina and Javier seek refuge, where Irina discovers there's only one thing Javier has been hunting... her.

Excerpt:

Droplets of water dripped over Irina’s neck and down between her breasts. The thin white tank top and cotton sports bra turned translucent beneath the sudden rainstorm. Irina stood and lifted her braid of auburn hair off her neck, squeezing water from the thick rope before letting it fall limply against her neck. Picking up her now soaking bag and snake stick, she turned to find Javier’s hot gaze on her breasts.

Irina glanced down to see her hard nipples pointed against the thin fabric, the darker circles of her aureoles visible. “Shouldn’t let yourself get distracted,” she said with a half smile,

Javier shifted his stance in a way that made Iriina wonder if he sported a hard-on. Thinking about her tall, muscled Hispanic mentor with his thick cock engorged with blood made her mouth and her pussy water.

“Maybe we should find some cover.” Javier gestured to the sky. “No snake is going to be out in this weather. They’re holed up in burrows or hiding in trees.”

Irina nodded and turned toward a grove of close-knit cypress trees. The bromeliads beneath would provide some cushion, and hopefully the intertwined branches would stop the worst of the rain. Then they could get out there again and look for that python. A new warehouse on the western edge of Miami had hired them. Two African Rock Pythons had been sighted, and the aggressive constrictors needed to be captured before they reproduced.

She leaned against the tree and squeezed her thighs together. Damn, she was so horny even thinking about snake sex had her aching. Pulling a water bottle from its holster on her belt, she took a long drink. When she lowered the bottle, Javier stood directly in front of her.

She gasped, fingers opening, and the bottle tumbled with a soft thud and the shush of parted leaves at her feet.

His big hand cupped the side of her breast, fingers perilously close to her hard nipple. She glanced down to see where he touched her, heat burning into her from his hand. She shivered.

“You’re chilled. Dry off before you catch a cold.”

“It’s still raining,” she replied, her voice no more than a whisper. The urge to squirm, to shrug her shoulder and bring his fingers closer to her nipple shuddered through her. Unable to stop herself, she reached out and traced the damp buttons on his shirt. “And I’m not the only one who’s wet.”