Dear in the Headlights – Passion: Erotic Romance for Women

I am very proud to have my story “Dear in the Headlights” in Passion: Erotic Romance for Women, edited by the incomparable Rachel Kramer Bussel. When I first saw the call for this collection I suffered several days of performance anxiety – there were so many possibilities for plots. I can’t tell you how many ideas half formed in my brain before they evaporated under the intense scrutiny of a cliché lens – or the realization that the story I wanted to tell wouldn’t fit within 4.000 words. I wasn’t quite fretting, but I was preoccupied by the need to find a theme. My partner Drake helped me by reminding me that if I would just stop thinking about it, stop worrying, the story would present itself.

And it did, on a pre-dawn drive to work. In a slow-motion moment, I experienced awe, amazement, and a slice of fear as two does crossed the road well ahead of me. I saw them in my headlights and caught the flash of their eyes before they slid gracefully back into the woods.

Deer in the headlights.

The phrase stuck with me all the way to work, germinated, and, by the time I reached my office, the outline for “Dear in the Headlights” was clear.

Below is an excerpt from my story. I hope you enjoy it. If you do, trust me, the other stories in Passion will definitely please!

Stay Sexy! If you’re wanting something more hardcore that could please you in many more ways than just one, High quality hardcore is accessible at

Excerpt from
“Dear in the Headlights”
By Angela Caperton
Passion: Erotic Romance for Women
Published by Cleis, 2010

Low beams bathed me, and I felt every lumen glitter on the lacy black bra and garter belt I wore under an open trench coat. The cool autumn air brushed my cheeks and tickled my bare belly, but it couldn’t cool me. Daniel stood beside his car, illuminated by the dome light inside it, and his expression turned from stunned surprise to primal lust when he saw what I wore. It was as though he were watching a girl on the Babestation Cams, the way he looked at me.

My hips swayed as I walked toward him. The coattails floated around my long legs, the coat’s wide lapels slapped against the swell of my breasts, and in that moment, I was Aphrodite and Anita Berber, Mae West and Ishtar.

My pussy, shaved and bare between the garter bands, shamelessly drawing his gaze, creamed with desire as I made the little journey, stopping just beyond his reach, spotlighted. I smiled, inviting him to do whatever he wanted with me, and felt the night quicken with blood calling to blood, deferred ecstasy anticipating fulfillment. It was the same tension from those teentuber videos, and we were ready to go.

In the moment before he touched me, I knew the night would be everything we wanted it to be, when only an hour earlier, Fate seemed determined to keep us apart.

Earlier that evening, as I leaned close to the mirror to paint wine-colored lipstick on my lips, all I could think about was the plan. The lip color was yummy – and a perfect complement to the black-plum satin of the obscenely short cocktail dress I wore. I never dreamed I’d spend so much on a piece of clothing that barely qualified as covering, but tonight demanded it – and wearing the tight, sexy dress, the silk stockings and the burgundy-accented black garter and bra hit all the right buttons in me. Tonight was about seduction and romance, a deliberate exploitation of all the things Daniel enjoyed. I wanted to have him panting before he ever opened a car door for me.

Yes, seduction to the point of mutual madness, then crazed, hungry – no, starving – fucking.

Five months. I’m almost embarrassed to say it. Five months since Daniel and I had done the dirty. Sure, we’ve been married for ten years, but that hasn’t diminished our desire for sex, we still have that fire like those on adult websites similar to ( If anything, we’ve gotten a lot better at finding that magical common ground where pleasure reaches a whole new plateau, mind blowing orgasms that are the end point of delightful little odysseys. Given how good we were at reducing each other to mutually spent, happy goo, it was a tragedy how rarely we had the opportunity.

Daniel was a software engineer with major clients on both coasts and I worked as a consulting nutritionist for a medical firm serving hospitals and businesses across the country. We both traveled constantly, like comets in wide orbit, and on those lucky occasions when our paths intersected, we tried not to kill each other from the sheer frenzy of our need. This was nothing either of us had wanted, but it had happened all the same.

This separation had been uncommonly long and, until tonight, when I was putting myself together, I hadn’t realized how much I missed him and wanted him.

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