'I'd been crushing on my book club friend for a year. Then she invited me over for a wine.'

This is part of Mamamia's Erotic Fiction Series, brought to you by Butter.

The night is warm and the scent of jasmine hangs heavy in the air, the soundtrack of cicadas floating through the open windows.

My heart beats faster than it should as I sip my wine. The glass is cool in my hand, a stark contrast to the heat spreading through my body.

I'm at her apartment — a cosy, art-filled space that feels like an extension of her personality: vibrant, fun, welcoming.

She's always intrigued me, ever since we met at book club a little over a year ago. I've long admired her confidence; the way she commands attention without trying; her easy laugh that makes everyone in the room turn and stare.

She's beautiful, of course — her thick hair tumbling in waves just past her shoulders, her big eyes framed by thick lashes that seem to see right through me.

But it's more than that. There's an energy about her; a magnetic pull I can't shake.

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She sits opposite me, her legs crossed, her dress riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of thigh. What would it feel like to touch her, I wonder? To run my fingers along her smooth skin, to trace the lines of her body.

The thought sends a thrill through me, a low rumble of fear and excitement.

I swallow hard, suddenly realising I've been staring as her eyes meet mine. She knows she's caught me out.

She leans forward, gaze fixed on mine. Her full lips tease a smile as she stands and holds out a hand, tilts her head slightly. A silent invitation.

I take another sip of my wine. Never breaking eye contact, I place the glass on the coffee table and slide my hand into hers. The tension between us stretches taut — a coiled spring, ready to snap.

The heat in her eyes sends shock waves spearing through me and an ache begins to build between my legs.

God… I want this.

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry, as she pulls me up from my seated position and leads me to the couch. She sits, guiding me to straddle her lap. My heart thunders in my chest as I settle on top of her, my hands resting on her shoulders.

Her skin is soft, smooth and warm under my touch.

As her hands slide gently up my thighs, my breath quickens, and catches.

She leans in, her lips brushing my neck, soft and teasing, and a shiver pulses down my spine. I close my eyes, softening into her touch.

The sensation of her mouth on my skin is making it impossible to think. Everything I am collects in the places her fingertips connect with my skin. The need between us is a living thing — I'm so aware of every nerve ending, every place we touch.

She kisses her way up to my jaw, her hands moving to my waist, pulling me in closer. With her breasts pushed against my own, I feel her nipples harden beneath the thin cotton of her dress as I slide my trembling hands into the silken strands of her hair.

I lean down, and her mouth finds mine. As her lips claim my own, desire rips through me, settling at my centre. Her mouth is soft but demanding, her tongue pushing against mine, and a wildness takes over me.

I nip at her bottom lip and she moans, the sound low, raw, primal. She's as surprised at my boldness as I am. But it spurs her on and our kiss becomes more desperate, more frenzied.

Our hips roll, each of us trying to find the friction we desperately need to satisfy that building desire.

Her hands glide up my back, and she pulls my top over my head, exposing my bare breasts to the night air. My nipples pique under her gaze, and she moves forward, taking one in her mouth… a low groan pulses from my lips as she sucks, first gently, then harder.

The way we're sitting puts me in the perfect position to simply enjoy this beautiful woman's mouth on me, her soft hands roaming over every inch of my body as she gently nips and sucks — first one breast, then the other.

My breath is coming in short gasps now, my body trembling with need. The sensation of her mouth, her hands, the press of her body against mine — it's overwhelming, and I can feel the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in my body.

She pulls back, turning slightly, pushing me down onto the couch. Her eyes don't leave mine, not once, as her fingertips trace the edge of my underwear.

The heat in her eyes is so intense, and I feel the wetness pool between my thighs. I lay back as she explores my body with her mouth, her fingers. Her lips are soft, but there's an urgency in the way she moves; her hands gentle but assured.

She strokes me through my underwear and I let out a soft, slow moan, my fingers tangling in her hair. She can definitely feel how wet I am through my undies now, and I don't care. I want her to know how much she's turning me on; how much I want her.

I writhe under her touch as she trails kisses down my breasts, my stomach, until her mouth is teasing the outline of my underwear. She nips at the band with her teeth, and I start to pull them off. But she pushes my hands away, taking back control as she slides my underwear over my hips, her fingers leaving trails of fire on my skin.

Completely exposed, a cry escapes my lips as she runs a finger down the very centre of me. She does it again, dragging her finger slowly — so slowly — through my wetness.

I whimper, wordlessly begging for more.

She lowers her head, and then her tongue is on me, licking, tasting…

Pleasure ripples through my every nerve as she massages my clit with her tongue. Her slow strokes get faster with every moan from my lips.

I roll my hips, grinding against her soft mouth. My hands plunge into her hair as she licks and sucks. Her hands snake around my thighs, holding me in place against her mouth.

I can't think, can't speak, I can only feel as the delicious pressure builds. The intensity of it is almost too much, but I don't want it to stop. Waves of pleasure roll through me with every brush of her tongue, and I can feel myself teetering on the edge.

She senses my body tensing beneath her hands, her mouth, and picks up her pace. I hear her moan from between my legs, and it's all I need to tip me over the edge, my orgasm flooding all my senses.

She keeps licking, stroking, still holding my thighs — her mouth buried in me as my back arches off the floor. The shockwaves radiate from my core, rolling pleasure tumbling through me.

She murmurs something softly, her lips still on mine as the pleasure slowly ebbs into a cosy warmth. She trails kisses back up my body until we're face to face, wrapping her arms around me.

Her hand gently strokes my back as I come down from the high, and the soundtrack of the summer night wraps around us, punctuated by my shallow gasps.

My breathing slows as we lay there, wrapped in each other.

"So…" she says, her voice breaking the spell.

"Shall we order a pizza?"

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Feature image: Liv James/ImageFX.