The Greatest Erotica Ever Written (Commission from Leilani)

Story by Duncan213 on SoFurry

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I am really pleased in how this Commission turned out! I got the idea of the cursed typewriter from a trip buying a typewriter from a shop in Colorado last summer. Ironicly the same area in Colorado near the Stanly Hotel.

I will like to thank Leilani for writing this story commission. Hope to come up with more! ^^


The Greatest Erotica Ever Written

Commission written by Leilani

a b c d e f g h I j l k l m n o p r sss t u v v w x y z

my name k ale a

i type i type wordsss i am otter i live issland bora bora

This is fun! I learn type! Push buttons and make words!

wordssss

Dumb button. Metal arm stuck on paper. What is "Shift"?

WORDS

Ohh! Shift make letters bigger!

1234567890-= 1 9 20

That is year on Bora Bora! Can type numbers too! Fun!

Curse.

Why I type that? Oh, Leilani say story of typewriter. She say de...detective, he bring to her. He say typewriter curse. I not think of curse. Not scare me like other otters.

Detective Von Browning was his name.

Von Browning, yes. That was name Leilani say. But strange. Why I type this?

He was well-known among the island denizens. Hans Van Browning, and he was nothing short of a god, not in part to the fox-bat's devilish, handsome good looks and charm, but more that he was an immortal, a creature of the night, a vampire.

I write so much! This is fun! Paws fly over buttons! Wait. Detective Anderson is vampire? What is vampire?

But he was unlike his kindred spirits who sought and harvested blood from the unwilling or willing, his method of sustenance was more of a casual sense. In the stead of the rich, nourishing flow, he opted for red wine and a bit of plasma he carried with him in a silver flask.

What Leilani say, I forgot. She say Hans handsome, yes, handsome in word. I-I like him. Big wolf and like bat, black fur, red eyes, dark wings. And vary tall. I like hold his paw. Warm, strong.

When Detective Von Browing arrived on our shores, I knew not what to make of his presence at first - nor the old, battered steamer, The White Dove, he arrived upon. But he seemed intent on meeting with the princess forthwith and as one of her ladies-in-waiting I, Kalea Kekoa, was the first to make his acquaintance beforehand.

"Welcome to Bora Bora," I smile and offered a webbed paw, feeling resplendent and official in a blue and purple floral sarong, matching my eyes, my dark-brown body covered sporadically head to toes with leis, floral bracelets and anklets.

The wolf-bat returned the gesture with a deep bow, and his scent wafted immediately - under the spray of salt water, the unmistakable musk. "I am indeed honored, m'lady Kalea. You are as..." his red eyes practically gleamed, "lovely as the natives foretold."

I blushed somewhat and looked away, trying not to be enchanted - and failing miserably. Toying with my braid, I replied, "I...thank you...much." I noticed finally that he had a small red suitcase with him and gestured to it curiously. "What here? I bring otters take to hut?"

The detective's smile faded somewhat. "Oh, that is something that must be kept with me, I'm afraid. But I'll make do, m'lady." He hoisted it up from the sand and across broad shoulders. "Where shall I go?"

"Oh...this way..." I turned and led the detective up the beach and towards a group of huts in the distance. "Princess Leilani come soon. She say vary happy see you."

"And I her..." he returned and I could feel his gaze boring into the back of my thighs as we walked. "Although I must say, meeting her loveliest of consorts makes me quite happy as well."

I tossed my braid over my shoulder and laughed uneasily. "Please. Leilani most lovely. More lovely then Kalea." I switched to a different track. "What is case?"

"Well, that," the wolf-bat chuckled, "is an interesting story, really. You see, I investigated a murder case in London a few months back. The victim was Cassandra Culler Fume, one of the most distinguished erotica writers of all time." He stopped and looked thoughtfully at the ocean. "A beautiful, charming and plump skunk. So admired and loved. Except by her husband John Culler, who was having an affair with a vixen. Cassie had discovered the affair, and in a fit of anger, planned her next erotic novel to illustrate it, charging the names, of course. But her husband found out what she was writing, realized his affair had been brought to light..." He paused and sighed. "And drowned her in their swimming pool."

I gasped. "That bad! Vary bad!"

"Yes, it was. Had he not left bruises on her thighs where he had pinned her to the bottom of the pool, he might very well have gotten that two million pound life insurance claim. It was Cassie's typewriter that did him in though."

"Tipe...ri..."

Hans smiled and took my paws into his own. "A typewriter, m'lady. It's, well, a way to communicate with others. To talk to them. The typewriter makes words, like you would find in books?"

My eyes showed recognition. "Oh...book! Leilani show book! Leilani have much books!" I was aware my rubbertail was wagging quickly. Why was I so eager to impress this gentleman?

Hans nodded. "The typewriter, m'lady, was the key to the whole case. Cassie had been vary thorough in her upcoming book, about the affair, and strangely enough, the manner of her death by drowning. All the clues led to John, and he and Esmeralda Goode, the vixen he was seeing, were brought to trial and imprisoned."

We had arrived at the designated hut and I led him inside, pointing to the prepared hammock, a set of chairs, a table, and a workspace for his belongings. "You stay here..." I watched him set down the suitcase in a corner. "I...do...more for you?"

Hans rose and faced me, nearly a foot taller then my 5'4" frame. "Nothing more for now." He looked back at the suitcase with a troubled expression. "I really wish I knew what to do with that thing. It puts my fur on edge just to have it."

"What in case?"

"Well, you may find it silly but Cassie's whole life was her typewriter. She always claimed it gave her ideas, actually wrote her words, because of something within it. She would tell readers all over the world that on any given day she would simply sit at her desk, look at the typewriter, and ideas would come to her, and before she knew it, she would be writing erotica well into the night without stopping, producing novels at godless rates."

"E-rot...?"

Hans smiled at me widely and leaned over to touch my shoulder - and every nerve in me jumped. It was like a bolt of lightning had struck me. "Erotica. Those are books with...um...sex in them."

I blushed all the more. "Oh...sex..." My rubbertail drooped down to touch the back of my thighs. I was sincerely grateful to have opted for a much longer sarong or he would see my legs tingling, or perhaps a trickle of my scented juices running down. "I - I know sex...Cassie write...good sex?"

"The best..." he whispered and bent his head down until his muzzle was nearly touching my forehead. "Some say, she wrote the greatest erotica ever written..."

We looked at each other, soaking in this tender moment like a warm bubble bath. "I...I - I like...sex." I lifted my head to his and smiled. "I might like read sex..."

The detective replied, "Well, I could find one of her books and bring it the next time I visit. Or maybe your princess can get it for you." He made himself comfortable sitting in the hammock and pointed to the case. "But anyway, that is why I have her typewriter now. If there is truly some...embodiment possessing that thing, best not to let it out, wot?"

"Embodee...?"

"A spirit. An...entity. Something that takes over an object for the purpose of good or evil. Mostly evil. That's why it's considered to be cursed."

"Cursed..." I bit my bottom lip. "You take typewriter?"

He chuckled. "Seemed like a good idea at the time, since it was an exhibit for the murder trial. Afterwards, no one really wanted it. Seemed a shame to let it go. And I half-believed the stories she had told her fans, about the typewriter helping her write. I haven't attempted writing anything myself. Perhaps one day." He sat up and looked at the small pile of pareos that had been laid out for him. "Ah, I see you are ready for me to go native, as it were."

"What? Oh." I walked over to the pareos and nervously arranged them again. "Not know size. Leilani bring many." I was aware he was slowly walking up behind me now and his musk filled the air, competing with the obvious pheromones of a sea otter's rising lust. "Here..." I turned around and held a pareo to his waist. "This...fit...?"

He leaned down to me and the kiss was sudden that for a moment, words failed me. I delighted only in his taste as our tongues mingled, danced, the explorative kisses becoming deeper and hotter. My churring became louder, filled with need. One of his strong paws came down to my hip and lit upon the large knot there, untying it, until the sarong fell away from me and around my feet. In turn, my paws fumbled briefly with his trousers and, as we kissed, loosened them from around his hips until they dropped to the floor. I was pleased there was no other garments and his member arose, swollen and full, as my paws tenderly held it, feeling it throb and pulsate in my velvet grip like an unleashed rogue.

I smiled up at him. "Want...wet...?" I sank to my knees on the floor in front of him, holding his long length while giving the tip and sides a lavish tongue-bath, creating a flow of my saliva that glistened across his length like a second, slick skin. Only when he begged me did I envelop his length whole, taking it deep into my mouth, so deep that I needed to relax my throat to keep from gagging.

I bobbed my head back and forth, steadily increasing the rhythm and suction, until I was swallowing mouthfuls of saliva. He swiftly grabbed my head, tangled a paw into my braid and cried out as he finally reached orgasm. With the flow of saliva, I then tasted the saltiness to bob on the length until I felt his huge orgasm flood my mouth and then recede like the tidal seas.

He was atop of me before we could say another word, kissing hungrily. I mewled like a kitten in heat and wrapped my arms and then my shapely legs around him as he buried his full shaft inside of me, until his testicles were crushed against my folds. Within moments of our joining, my own orgasm rose and I exploded with gushing and squirts that drenched his member, as he pumped another full load of his seed deep into me. I kept my legs around him, tight, pleading in whispers for him to stay inside me just a little longer until his intimate offering petered out from dark folds and dripped down.

We nuzzled one another for a few moments and then he gently pulled free from my velvet, and lifted me to my feet, smiling. "We should...probably meet later?"

My eyes were shining like stars in the night sky. "Y-Yes. I like...vary much..." I meekly retrieved and re-tied my sarong before smiling back as I waved and practically stumbled towards the door.

My eyes fell briefly on the red case and I made a mental note to return another time, perhaps in daylight hours, when the vampire would be at rest.

Oh...oh...my paw...hurts. I type so much! Leilani be jealous I type this! Not let Leilani see. And want leave before Hans awake. He not see me too. I take paper too. Put typewriter back. I not think cursed. That silly. Typewriter not get curse. Typewriter good. I make much words!

**

Hans leave last night. Take case too. Not type now. I miss typewriter. I ask Leilani Hans come back. She say not know. I like read. I type good words. Words of sex. What he say...e-erotica. I like erotica. I type good erotica. One day show others.

I like reading. I read newspaper now. News from other places. See contest for words. Will ask Leilani take me post office.

**

August 29, 1920

Romance Monthly Magazine

3423 Emerald Ridge Park

New York City, NY 10036

Dear Ms. Kalea Kekoa:

It is with honor to inform you that your entry, "Bora Bora Fantasy", was such a delight to read. Never had we seen such intricacy and passion, such divine expression and details. In some way, your style reminds up vary much of the late Cassandra Culler fume, perhaps the most wonderful erotica writer in the world, and obviously you are a fan as well.

By all means, we would like vary much your permission to publish this short feature in our next issue, and we dearly hope we have not seen the last of your work. You have enchanted us; dazzled us, and this is truly the greatest erotica ever written.

Warmly,

Geraldine Matthews, Editor in Chief

Romance Monthly Magazine

**

Need tell Leilani! Get Hans back! Bring case! Must type! Soon!

END