Lust at Midnight

  Lust at Midnight Collection

  By John Sheridan

  Copyright © 2013

  Lust at Midnight Collection

  John Sheridan

  Lust at Midnight is a collection of five short, hot and dirty stories from two popular erotic series. The stories are Midnight Lover, Midnight Lover 2: A Night of Passion, Midnight Lover 3: Daddy’s Little Girl, Game of Lust, and Game of Lust: Breaking Point. Midnight Lover follows the lives of three normal people caught in a web of passion, as one man’s sleepwalking turns a shy innocent woman into a devious, advantage taking erotic goddess. In Game of Lust join in with the ultimate game of temptation, as the person you are infatuated with allows you to do certain naughty things to them if you follow the rules, but if you don’t follow the rules then you will never get to have them again. It is the ultimate tease, which is cruel and naughty. How long would it take you to break?

  Books by John Sheridan

  ***

  Dance of Deceit

  The Lake of Love

  Life of a Sex Addict

  Personal Apocalypse

  Lust Virus: Lost Souls Collection

  Midnight Lover

  By John Sheridan

  Natalie is a kind and honest woman. She is in her late thirties and still struggles to maintain any form of a long term relationship. She follows the rules set by society and never steps outside of her shell, until tonight. After a long day Natalie returns home to find a naked man standing in her garden. He is a chronic sleepwalker known throughout the neighbourhood. Natalie is fed up of being the only person that follows the rules and wants to do something that makes her happy. In a dream like state the man thinks Natalie is his wife. He steals a passionate kiss and plants the seeds of temptation within her soul. Can Natalie maintain her self-control, or will she take full advantage of this gorgeous man and have her wicked way? This is an erotic short story.

  Copyright © 2012

  Midnight Lover, John Sheridan

  ‘Okay, Okay.’ I attempted to calm them.

  It didn’t do much good.

  They howled a howl that sounded like they were in a great amount of pain. Everyone in the local area could hear them. People living in completely different streets could be forgiven if they thought someone was trying to murder a cat with a shovel. That is what is sounded like. This is what they always sounded like. If they wanted in the house, they howled. If they wanted out the house, they howled. If they wanted dinner, they howled. If they just wanted to see my slipper fly across the room and bop them on the head, they howled.

  I fumbled with the house keys, as I shifted the shopping bags onto my left hand.

  My neighbours were sure to complain about this.

  My cats were notorious howlers.

  In truth I never meant to work so late. I had been stuck at the office because half the staff had called in sick. There had been a nasty bug going around for a while, but I found it a bit suspicious that half a dozen people caught it on the exact same Friday morning. The reason I found this a little off was because Monday was a bank holiday, which meant you didn’t have to come into work. I half expected most of the staff took the Friday off and indulged themselves in a very long weekend of doing nothing. Like a good girl I had volunteered to stay on after hours. It meant I was coming home at almost eleven o’clock.

  The front door opened with a faint click.

  My two girls disappeared into the shadows of the house, as I locked the front door.

  A heavy sigh escaped my lips.

  I didn’t have the energy to do anything. I felt so tired that I could quite happily curl up on the doormat and sleep through the night. I felt completely and utterly exhausted. My tired eyes looked into the gloomy shadows of the hallway. It only added to my depression. I hated coming home to such a quiet and lonely house. Don’t get me wrong. Moving out from my parents place was the best thing I had ever done, but I missed having a man in my life.

  I missed having someone to come home too.

  The girl’s meows brought me back to reality.

  ‘I am coming,’ I told them.

  I detoured into the living room, illuminated the interior and switched on my laptop. It was already set up on the coffee table, which is where I always left it. My feet carried me through the small archway into the kitchen, although I don’t think you could really class this as much of a kitchen. It was tiny. It was longer than it was wide. I had always dreamed of having one of those fancy open planned kitchens, but instead I had ended up with this. If I ever moved house then getting a bigger kitchen would be my number one priority.

  The shopping was placed upon the kitchen counter.

  I located the cat’s biscuits in the cupboard and poured them into their bowls.

  With no elegance or grace they began to tuck in.

  You would think the two of them were half starved.

  ‘I guess I should make myself something to eat,’ I told the world in general.

  I honestly couldn’t be bothered, but my tummy was starting to rumble. I opened up the shopping bags and quickly set to work at putting the items away. Usually I was more organised when sorting out the cupboards, but that could wait for the weekend. Things were thrown in any old place that had room. My microwave meal was sitting in the bottom of the last bag.

  ‘Dinner for one,’ I sighed.

  When was the last time I had a meal with a man?

  I couldn’t remember. That was a clear sign that it was too long.

  I am totally going to end up as one of those crazy old cat women. I already have two cats, but how long until I start getting more cats to replace the love that I do not receive? The tip of the knife poked a few holes in the plastic covering and I stuffed the meal into the microwave. A few bleeps, as I typed in the cooking time, and the microwave hummed into life.

  My next destination was the fridge.

  A half empty bottle of wine was chilling nicely in the door compartment.

  I got a strange satisfaction at the glugging sound the wine made, as I poured it into one of my tall fancy wine glasses. The bottle returned to the fridge and the glass was raised to my lips. The delicious taste of the wine tickled the back of my throat. The tension within my muscles seemed to ease slightly, my head became a little lighter and my worries faded away. It didn’t take much to get me tipsy, which would be why one glass of wine a night was my limit.

  I returned to the living room.

  My bum sank down into thick comfy chair.

  By now my laptop was already loaded up and a single click on the browser icon brought up internet explorer. I went through my list of disorganised favourites until I found the website I was looking for. It was a dating website. I had only been a member of the site for a few weeks and so far the results were not going well. I hadn’t received a single e-mail from anyone. The whole thing was free and the bar at the top of the page said over one hundred thousand people were online worldwide. There was even a page that allowed me to see who had clicked on my profile. Most of them that had clicked on my profile were way older than me, but there were one or two good looking guys in the bunch, which was nice for my ego. The only issue I had was that none of them had e-mailed me.

  I had thought of e-mailing them, but what was the point?

  They had checked me out and decided they were not interested.

  I am not going to bother with people like that.

  I did make me wonder, what is putting them off? I know I am not ugly. I won’t win any awards for being the most beautiful woman, but I am not ugly. My ex-boyfriends always complimented me on my eyes and my smile and said that I had a really kind face, which was the first thing that had attracted them to me. I wasn’t the slimmest woman you would meet. I liked my food. I’m not fat,
but I am not obsessed with my figure. I have a nice bum, big boobs and curves. My ex’s loved my body. I know some men just want slim, sexy and much younger women, but I know I am not repulsive.

  Was it my personality?

  I didn’t think so.

  I feel I am laid back, easy to talk to, kind, caring and I love to make the person I am with happy. I think that comes across in the profile I have written on the dating site. The profile has a nice photo of me, which is one of my favourites, and the write up comes across really nice.

  Don’t men want nice?

  I had browsed through the other women I am competing with on here and noticed one small fact. Most had images of themselves from a high angle, which gave men a great shot at their tits. They then went on to show other photos of them in various unique positions pulling unnatural poses. I just had a picture of me smiling.

  ‘Blah!’ I closed the laptop.

  This just made me feel worse than I did.

  I took a sip of my wine and allowed it to linger in my mouth before swallowing.

  I am never going to find a man at this rate. I am going to end up a weird old lady.

  The microwave pinged in the kitchen. My stomach gurgled angrily almost as if it was ordering me to grab the food and stuff my face. I dragged my tired legs back through the archway and popped open the microwave door. Steam hissed out and I had to turn my head away momentarily. And then something caught my eye.

  It was a man.

  It was a naked man.

  It was a naked man standing in my back garden.

  I stood in shocked silence for a brief moment.

  He was looking straight at me, but he didn’t seem alarmed in the slightest. Could he not see that I was looking at him? Unconsciously I opened the cutlery draw and pulled out one of the carving knives. It didn’t exactly make me feel any safer, but it seemed like the smart thing to do. The back door unlocked with a click and I poked my head out into the garden. The man was stood about fifteen foot back from the door. I was confident enough I could slam it shut, and lock it, if he charged at me.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked him.

  He smiled a really cute smile.

  His eyes sparkled with a hint of happiness.

  ‘Fiona,’ said the man.

  ‘Eh?’ I replied with a frown. ‘I think you have me confused with someone else.’

  The man began to approach the house.

  I brought the knife up and pointed the tip towards him. I very much doubted I would actually bring myself to use it, but I hoped the gesture would cast enough doubt in his mind that he wouldn’t continue his approach. The man didn’t even seem to acknowledge the knife. He just walked slowly towards me. My eyes dropped down across his naked body. I hadn’t really noticed it before. The shock of having a man in my garden had overridden the small fact that he was fucking hot!

  Not just a little bit hot.

  He was insanely hot.

  The guy had more muscles that I have had hot dinners.

  He had strong defined arms, hot pectoral muscles and rippling abdominal muscles that a girl could only dream about and most of those dreams contained scenes of a sexual nature. And I have had a lot of those dreams over the years. I have dreamt about a man like this more times than any sane woman should. My eyes continued their journey south of his abdominal muscles and made a brief pit stop between his legs. I found myself biting my lip as I looked at his dick.

  It was big.

  He wasn’t even hard and it was big.

  ‘Fiona,’ he said in a dream like state.

  It was only then I noticed it.

  The man had a sort of faraway look in his eyes.

  Was he even awake?

  ‘I am not Fiona,’ I replied.

  The man pushed the back door open and stepped inside. He hadn’t forced the door open in an aggressive manner, but he was a lot stronger than me. I backed up into the kitchen. I still held the knife in my hand, but this man didn’t seem threatening in the slightest.

  I didn’t know what to do.

  ‘I have missed you so much.’

  ‘You need to stop,’ I warned him, as I moved backwards.

  He kept coming.

  ‘You are more beautiful than I remember,’ he said.

  Did he just call me beautiful?

  My back hit the kitchen counter and I turned to realise I couldn’t retreat any further. When I returned my attention to the man he was standing just a hair’s length in front of me. My heart began to beat like some kind of war drum, as his strong hands cupped my face. It all happened so quickly that I didn’t know what to do. He pulled me into him, as he leaned forward.

  We kissed.

  I tensed up and tried to pull away, but he had me pinned in the corner.

  The man titled his head to one side and slipped his tongue in my mouth.

  I gasped with a mouthful.

  Was this really happening?

  I had to stop this. It had already gone way too far. I tried to pull away, but he simply kissed me with greater force. A wave of tingles ran down the full length of my spine at the feel of his tongue stroking mine. A warm glow filled my chest, as he ran his fingers through my hair. I did love having my hair played with. And then I did something I was not proud of.

  I kissed him back.

  I couldn’t help it.

  He was such a good fucking kisser.

  It was a natural instinct. When a hot guy has his tongue down your throat, you kiss him back.

  The way his tongue danced within my mouth was heavenly. We tilted our heads from side to side, as we kissed like passionate lovers in my kitchen. How long had it been since I last kissed a man? I don’t think I have ever been kissed so expertly. My entire body started to tingle, as a strange flutter tickled the inside of my stomach. It was at this moment that horror struck me like a nuclear explosion in the face. I could feel something big and something hard pressing up against my thigh.

  He pulled back and smiled.

  ‘I love you, Fiona.’

  ‘That is nice,’ I blushed.

  I don’t know why I blushed. I know he didn’t mean he loved me, but the look in his eyes and the sincerity upon his face carried a conviction of love that you don’t even see in the best romance movies. It just made me feel like the most important person in the whole wide world. I gave my head a quick shake and focused on reality. This was wrong. This man wasn’t even awake.

  I slipped by him to create some space.

  Instantly my eyes dropped down onto his rock hard cock.

  It was standing fully erect in the air.

  ‘Wow,’ I muttered. All sorts of explicit thoughts rushed through my mind. I quickly gave my head a quick shake and something caught my attention. ‘What’s this?’ I spotted a white paper wrist band. I snatched it from his wrist.

  It read. “My name is, Dan. I am a sleepwalker. Please call this number if you find me.” A telephone number finished off the message.

  ‘Okay, Dan?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, Fiona?’

  ‘I want you to follow me, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  I pushed the back door closed, placed down the knife, and guided him into the living room.

  ‘Take a seat.’

  He did as he was told and sat down on the couch. I picked up my cordless phone, which was placed on the arm of the chair and dialled the number from the paper bracelet. It only rang once before someone answered.

  ‘Hello?’ A female voice asked. She sounded upset.

  ‘Hi, this may sound a little strange, but I have someone called Dan in my house.’

  ‘Oh god, I am so sorry. Is he okay?’

  ‘He is perfectly fine,’ I replied. ‘I just discovered him wondering through my back garden.’

  ‘What is your address? I will come over and pick him up straight away.’

  I passed on my details to the woman, whilst glancing out the corner of my eye towards Dan. It was still a bit of a shock to the system that I had
this incredibly hot guy in my house. I didn’t usually get guys of this calibre here. None of my ex-boyfriends looked this good. Dan had to be the hottest guy I had ever seen naked. And his cock was the biggest I had witnessed. I turned my attention back to the phone.

  ‘I will be there in five minutes,’ said the woman.

  The phone line went dead.

  I let out a long sigh and placed the phone down. This had been a weird night.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Dan had snuck up behind me.

  I turned to face him and unconsciously looked down at his cock. It was still hard.

  ‘I am fine, Dan.’

  ‘You look absolutely stunning.’ Dan wore a mask of seriousness upon his face. It felt like he was looking straight into my soul. I was suddenly feeling very small. ‘I can’t believe how beautiful you are.’

  I turned my eyes away from him.

  I could feel another blush coming on.

  ‘What do you find beautiful?’ I mumbled.

  ‘Everything about you is beautiful.’ He smiled that heart warming smile. ‘You have such a loving and gentle face. It is the type of face that should belong to an angel. And your eyes are so kind, so deep and so friendly. Just a single glance and I can see how pure your soul is.’ He reached up and stroked his hand against the side of my face. To my surprise I found myself leaning against his fingers. ‘And I love your smile. It makes my heart flutter and sends tingles throughout my body. Everything about you is so perfect.’

  ‘You are very kind,’ I told him. ‘I just wish you meant it about me.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘But I am not Fiona.’

  Dan looked straight into my eyes. ‘I love you.’

  My heart melted.

  How I have dreamed of hearing those words from a man like him. It wasn’t real though.

  And then it happened.

  Dan suddenly stole a kiss.

  I hadn’t even seen it coming until his lips had been pressed up against mine. I moaned softly through my nose at the feel of him back in my mouth. Why did he have to be such a good kisser? It started off as something sweet, but turned into something lustful within seconds. We were no longer kissing, we were devouring each other.