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Tag: Sexy Reads

  • mrs Sexy – Under The Influence

    mrs Sexy – Under The Influence

    In mrs. Sexy-Under the Influence, Juliet Adelaide continues her pursuit of sexual excitement and adventure.  Her original plan of becoming a hotwife has changed. She develops relationships with her lovers which were not part of the plan.  She becomes too involved with one, develops close friendships with others, and dabbles in new experiences which include her husband. The absurd turns that her life is taking become problematic but she is addicted to her new lifestyle.  Her marriage remains strong even though her behavior tests the boundaries of all the relationships in her life.

    From Chapter 11 – The Games Continue

    As I walked into the photographer’s studio, I am shocked that it’s really enormous. Ian and his business partners are creating a haven for local artists. It’s two stories and upstairs they are making a bar and lounge. There are all sorts of interesting props, light installations, and art in various rooms within the warehouse. I am advised that Ian is meeting his business associates for dinner, but it isn’t for a while. I am asked if someone should show early, can I say I’m the interior designer helping with colors for the rooms. OK. I’m led into one of the smaller rooms. There are various objects in the room that he may be using for photo shoots including a resort style massage table.

    I am asked if I would like a massage. Absolutely. I am told to take my shoes off. He promptly reaches under my dress and pulls off my panties. He tells me that I should keep my dress on in case of surprise visitors in the warehouse. He remains fully dressed in a really nice button up dress shirt and nice jeans. I lay down on my stomach and he starts massaging my shoulders. I make a remark about this being a nice way to spend a Friday afternoon. He starts to massage my feet and legs. He tells me that today is all about me. He advises me that since he first met me at a coffee social a couple of weeks ago, he just wanted to touch me.

    I am massaged for quite a while. Maybe twenty minutes in, he pulls my dress up around my waist. His fingers begin to gently massage my pussy. I have my face still in the massage table hole and turn to look at him. He touches my head and makes me put my face back down. He tells me just to enjoy. He continues to rub my pussy. He grazes my asshole and slips his fingers inside my cunt . He begins to rub quicker realizing I am nearing orgasm. I gently moan as I cum stretched out on the massage table. Now I know why men always joke about a happy ending with a massage. It’s quite an experience.

    He kneels down in front of my face and kisses me. I ask if I could suck his cock for him. He reiterates that it’s supposed to be about me today, but he can’t refuse a little tease. His pants are undone as I am still lying on the table. I start to stroke and suck his cock. He moans a bit and jokes that he knows why I write about sucking cock a lot. He only allows me to do this a few minutes before backing away and telling me to turn over. He pulls me to the edge of the table and begins licking my clit. He is quite skilled. I am enjoying his tongue as he also uses his fingers to trace the opening of my pussy. I am fondled and licked by this attractive, fully dressed photographer.   He senses my growing arousal and really puts his whole face into my pussy. He seems so into it and it feels so good. His mouth and tongue are quickening in pace and enthusiasm. I cum again and start writhing on the table.

    He asks if he can put a condom on for a little taste of being inside me. I agree and am slid, sitting up, on the table to the edge of it. He kisses me as he enters and starts to fuck me.  I see his eyes close as he gently moans. He pulls out and asks me to turn over onto my stomach. He enters me again and fucks me harder from behind as I stretch my arms out in front of me grabbing the edge of the table as I’m fucked. He stops abruptly and reminds me that it’s about me today. He pitches the condom in the trash and does up his pants. He goes back to massaging me a bit. He asks if I will be able to see him again. He hopes soon when perhaps we can have more time. He kisses me as I remain stretched out on my back on the table. We laugh as I’m getting up, and we notice my pussy juice mark on the bottom of his nice dress shirt. He says he forgot to bring a change of clothes, and he guesses part of me will be joining him for dinner. As I drive home, I wonder why I can’t move on from Max.

    I tell my husband details of the story when I arrive home.  He is happy that I had a good time.  We have the night off and an odd night out planned.  We are going to a rope tying party.  We were just going as voyeurs.  You could participate or just watch couples tie each other up into elaborate designs.  Sexual art.  It’s held at a local hotel.  It seems very odd to pay to go watch naked and half naked people tied up to, what can only be described as, playground equipment.  There are other various games including electro therapy orgasm table, various fetishes and paddles.  Mostly it was couples tying the girl up to metal bars, often totally suspended and really quite interesting. We chat with a couple of people we had met before and some new people. My hubby is inspired when we get home.

    He gets out a combination of leather and metal cuffs that connect to one another.  I am blindfolded and told to lay naked on my stomach.  My ankles and wrists each receive a special cuff.  Those all pull back and attach to one another as I am essentially hogtied on my bed.  I thought that it would be really uncomfortable and awkward.  As he reached his fingers underneath me to play with my pussy as I was tied up, I had different opinions.  I was very aware of things and it made me ultra sensitive to touch. He tickled and rubbed my body.  He put his cock in my mouth for a bit and then slides my vibrator under me until I am cumming and writhing still hogtied on the bed.  He undid me and told me to get on my knees as he fucked me hard and came deep within me.  He collapsed onto me and held me for a while.  It had been an extraordinary day.

    Juliet Adelaide – Juliet Adelaide has a Bachelor’s degree in Humanities and Culture from Arizona State University. She started dating her husband at the young age of 17. They lived together while she attended college and often even worked at the same jobs. They are a devoted couple who only recently opened their marriage to new sexual experiences. “mrs Sexy-Under the Influence” is Juliet’s second book, and she takes you through all of the most personal moments of her adventures.

    mrs. Sexy – Under The Influence is available on:

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    Images courtesy of Juliet Adelaide

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  • Sexy Reads – Untouchable

    Sexy Reads – Untouchable

    Untouchable: Wealthy, Washington DC attorney, Carson Drake, is fascinated by public relations princess, London Chantelle. But hidden secrets and workplace conspiracy could crush this alpha male’s special weekend and his only chance at real love.

    Excerpt

    Carson herded London toward the private rooms. She stopped short when they reached a gothic-arched doorway.

    “Where are we going?” she asked.

    “Someplace more quiet.”

    “What if I don’t want to?”

    “Then you don’t have to.” He dropped his hold on her waist.

    “Just talking?”

    “Yes. Witnesses saw us leave. You’re safe.”

    She let Carson pull her through the massive door, held open by a bodyguard. He moved them down an expansive hallway. Only after ushering her inside the last door at the end did he let go of her elbow. She immediately crossed her arms.

    “It’s okay, sugar. I’m not going to hurt you.”

    “I’m meeting someone.”

    “Oh?”

    “Yes, so I can’t stay long.” She worked her bottom lip and shuffled her weight from foot to foot. Her eyes also darted to the bed in the corner. Perhaps she thought he’d take her right away? She knew his identity. She should know he was committed to due diligence. And he had to know why she was here—the last place on earth he’d expect London Chantelle.

    He sat in one of two cushioned chairs set before a lit fireplace. He appreciated her luscious curves, beautifully illuminated by the amber glow of the low fire.

    “Sit.” He beckoned her to join him.

    “I like standing.”

    “Sit.” The commanding tones of a Dom brought the expected result. As she lowered herself into the chair, her ponytail licked one shoulder. “Your hair is beautiful in this light,” he said. “More golden brown than I noticed before.”

    She swallowed. “Thank you, um . . . I go by Tatiana.”

    “It doesn’t suit you. Why not go with, say . . . London?”

    Her mouth dropped to an “O” in alarm, and she leapt from her seat.

    “Sit. Down.” He pointed to the chair.

    “Please.” Her hazel eyes implored lenience, and her tone of voice surprised him. He liked the beseeching quality. It was quite a departure from her customary unadulterated demand.

    “Please what? You thought a simple mask and change of clothing meant I wouldn’t recognize you?”

    “I hoped . . . maybe . . . I can’t do this.”

    Before she could complete two steps, he’d risen from his chair and laid his hand on her shoulder. She stopped. He pressed his torso against her back, sending her firm ass into his crotch. He decided to like her stiletto boots. He was a tall man and they made her the perfect height. He waited to see if she’d object, at which point he’d back off. She didn’t move.

    Carson pulled off the elastic holding her hair captive. A curtain of gold-laced chestnut silk cascaded free. He brushed her mane to one side and bared her shoulder. “That’s better.”

    Her breathing sped up. “You said just talking.”

    “Still, sweetness.” He inhaled her scent of Ivory soap and cinnamon Christmas cookies before stepping backward. “We are talking.”

    She twisted to face him. “Carson, please . . .”

    He liked how her emotions turned in an instant. She’d test his abilities to direct her psychology in a scene. He nearly laughed at himself. How quickly I have her bound and pleasured in my mind. “There. Now that’s a start. I rather like you begging me.”

    “I don’t beg.”

    And there goes that chin. “We’ll see.” He took another step back. His instincts told him she wouldn’t bolt.

    “Take a seat, London.” Carson returned to his chair. “When you do, hands in your lap. After you listen to me you can decide if you wish to leave. It will be your choice.”

    London hesitated, then nestled her behind onto the chair opposite him. She placed her hands in her lap. The thumb of one hand worked the palm of the other.

    “Take off your mask. Show me your pretty face.”

    London took a deep breath as her elegant fingers slipped off her disguise, pulling the fastening ribbon through her perfect hair. He wanted to capture her cheeks in his hands. He’d rub off the mask indents and erase the worry imprinted on her forehead.

    “How long have you been without a master?” he asked.

    “I-I’m not . . .” Her jawline hardened. “It’s none of your business.”

    “That’s a shame. I’m good at business.” His mouth broke into a smile at the thought of bending her over her desk, papers sticking to her bared breasts, pens falling to the floor. He’d smack her ass with that leather portfolio she carried around like a shield. He wouldn’t stop until her engraved initials imprinted her skin.

    “Why did you bring me here?” she whispered.

    “You’re looking for a Dom. I’m a Dom looking for a sub.”

    She flinched at his final word. “What do you want, Carson?”

    What I want. Did it matter? He’d given up what he wanted long ago—a spirited submissive who matched his desires. Someone who might actually stick with him and not drop him the minute a better offer came through. He didn’t allow himself to think finding such a woman was possible anymore.

    “Time. Willingness. Pleasure.” Carson folded his hands and laid his chin on his knuckles. “Now, I want to know what you want.”

    “No, you don’t.”

    Carson raised an eyebrow. “Toying with me will not get you anywhere, sweetness.”

    “Isn’t that what you are doing with me?”

    “Hardly.” Carson let silence take over the space.

    “Then what?” she whispered after long minutes.

    “Patience will be your first lesson tonight. Then I’ll consider you.”

    “Consider me?” She gave him a hardened, fuck-off look.

    “Yes. Last time. What do you want?”

    He let a few seconds tick by. Then he stood. “If you won’t tell me why you’re here, what you seek, then I can’t help.”

    “I-I didn’t mean . . . it isn’t easy . . .”

    “You must answer my questions when I ask them. No delay. It’s for your safety and mine.”

    Her lips pursed, her signal she realized she was losing. Her sassiness had its usual alluring appeal—futile, but adorable. She licked her bottom lip, the subtle move urging him forward.

    “Stand,” he said.

    She stood cautiously.

    “What is your safeword?” he asked.

    “Excuse me? A-a scene. With you? You’re a client. If anything ever got back—”

    “Then we would both lose. And I don’t lose.”

    “No, You take what you want and damn the consequences.”

    “London.” Carson walked toward her and she backed around the chair. “What are you afraid of? Afraid you might get what you want? Experience what you’ve longed for?”

    She let out a huff, but continued to retreat as Carson advanced. He sent her in a backward circle until she closed in on the canopied bed. Yes, most definitely submissive. The urge to discover how deep her desires ran raged through him like a brushfire.

    “How would you know what I long for?” Her haughty chin jutted out.

    “I want to know, London. Tell me.”

    “Why?” She’d backed up until she connected with the bedpost.

    “Fair question. And one I’ll answer. Given you and I dance well together at the boardroom table, why wouldn’t we here? Had I known your proclivities I might have offered. Why didn’t you come to me before?” How had he missed her signs?

    “B-but you hate me.”

    Now he was puzzled. “No, I don’t. You sometimes . . . irritate, but I could never hate you. Surely you noticed my tendencies.”

    “Being a bully in a boardroom does not make you a Dominant I’d be interested in.”

    “Ouch, London. That hurt.” Carson slapped his chest above his heart but kept his face stony.

    “I didn’t think you could feel pain.”

    “Everyone feels pain.” Her lips parted when he closed the last inch of distance between them. His thighs touched hers, and he softened his voice. “It pleases me you’re here. There’s no use in fighting this chemistry.” Carson hooked a thumb on his waistband. “One weekend.”

    “With you?”

    “Yes.”

    “What will you do with your harem?”

    He unbuckled his belt. “Your second lesson. Don’t force discipline with a smart mouth.”

    “I don’t have that kind of time.” She raised her impertinent jawline—again.

    Lesson three: discipline your haughty chin.

    “Not enough time to learn discipline or not enough time, in general?” The loud rasp of leather yanked through his belt loops sent her attention to his torso.

    “What are you doing?” Her panicked gaze shot to his face.

    “I don’t have a collar on me.”

    “I am wholly disinterested in being collared.”

    “One weekend, London.” He grasped one of her hips with his free hand. “If you’re disappointed at any time, you can walk. I’ll never speak of it again. Our work together will go unaffected. No one—and I mean no one—but us will know.”

    “Would you put that in writing?” Her eyes filled with mischief.

    Priceless. London lured him toward a lightning storm. He could play. Hell, nothing appealed in the moment more than a weekend playing with London. Yes, this is what he wanted. Now he needed to know if she was willing.

    “I’ll do one better.” He snaked the belt around her waist until the leather rested against her hips.

    “I’m not a notch on a belt.”

    “You could never be a notch, London Chantelle. You’re the whole belt, sugar.”

    Her face softened, and the playfulness in her eyes died. He recognized the deliberation behind them, the wonder if she’d be safe, here and at work. London needn’t have worried. She might get scared, but mutual satisfaction was the only way his brand of sexual fulfillment worked.

    “Say yes or no.” He pressed his torso to her corseted body, the last space between her body and his obliterated. “But say yes.”

    “What will happen if I say yes?”

    “What you want.  What you’ve probably always wanted.”

    Her eyes misted with a surprising vulnerability. “Yes.”

    Don’t wait further to find out what happens next.  Purchase the rest of the book here:

    Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00V8CZ3KG

    Note: pre-order discount price of $2.99 is available until June 2015.

    Image courtesy of Elizabeth SaFleur

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  • Sexy Reads – F.L.E.S.H.

    Sexy Reads – F.L.E.S.H.

    As the owner of a small, struggling dance school in a depressed neighborhood Fuchsia Quinn supplements her income with a late night job at a dive bar. Peyton Lang, having run from a bad neighborhood, lives the lifestyle of a successful billionaire. After a lusty night with a hot pole dancer, Peyton and Fuchsia’s worlds are about to collide.

    Excerpt

    When the cab stopped, Big Tipper handed the driver some bills, thanked him, and held the door open for her. Just outside the hotel’s front entrance, he touched her elbow and stopped. “You know, before we do this, we really should be introduced. Keeping with the anonymity thing we’ve got going on, what should I call you.”

    “My stage name is Flame.”

    A sexy grin crossed his mouth. “Oh yeah. You got that right. Hot. Flaming hot.

    “And you? ‘Cause I’ve been calling you Big Tipper and sorry, I know that’s rude.

    “No. I think the big is fine. Let’s see. How about Pete?”

    Flame smiled. “Hello, Pete.”

    Pete stepped forward. The doors slid open. The receptionist behind the desk gazed sleepily at a small TV. Flame guessed a car chase scene from the sounds of gun fire and screeching tires.

    After registering for the room and paying with a credit card, Pete held out the key card and led her toward the elevator. Once inside, she asked, “Which floor?”

    “Penthouse suite. Top floor.”

    She rolled her eyes. “There’s only six floors. And I doubt this place has a penthouse.” She leaned on the back wall. Pete stood next to her. It felt like fire poured from his body. Her head swam. The lurch of the elevator stopping didn’t help the dizziness building in her.

    It was all she could do to not rip her clothes off and jump on him. Each step down the hallway increased her pulse and blood pressure. He stopped, slid the key through the lock, the little light turned green, and he pushed the door open.

    Inside was a typical hotel room: bathroom, small fridge, long dresser with a TV on it. Pete flicked on a light and pointed. “The only room in the hotel with a king size bed. But first.” He pulled her close, reached into her kangaroo pouch, and pulled out the can of pepper spray. “Let’s just get rid of this.” He placed it on the counter in the bathroom and then scooped her up and dropped her onto the bed. His hands slid under her sweat shirt and pulled it over her head. She hooked her thumbs into her waist band, kicked off her shoes and wiggled her pants off.

    The bed shook as Pete climbed on. Resting his weight on his hands and knees, he ran his gaze down her body. “I love nothing more than a woman who knows what she wants and doesn’t waste time wearing underwear. You are beautiful. From these lips.” He placed a quick kiss on her mouth. “To these wonderful—”

    He cut off his sentence when he slipped a nipple into his mouth.

    Flame arched and sighed.

    With a small lip smack, he popped the bud from his mouth and shifted his body. “To the heaven that is waiting to be discovered.” He trickled his fingers down her belly and between her legs. His finger caressed her clit for a torturously brief moment. She thrust up her hips, hoping for another touch, but was agonizingly denied.

    His mouth latched onto hers. She could feel his lust, not only from his erection crushing into her belly, but from the intensity of the kiss. The knowledge this man wanted her exploded her nervous concerns. At the club, he’d captured her attention. Her body had reacted instantly. She’d wanted him. In the diner, everything he’d said only aroused her more. Now, she lay beneath him, reveling in the kiss and sensation of his roaming hands. Her body strained up, trying to eliminate any distance between them. She hooked her legs around his waist and ground her groin against him, and then opened her mouth. She was offering to be taken and she knew he was willing.

    His tongue slipped between her teeth. She flicked the tip of hers across the bottom of his. He groaned. She responded. Their tongues wound around each other like tangled spaghetti. Moans escaped her throat. Her nipples pressed against his t-shirt, begging to be suckled.

    She broke off their kiss with a gasp. “Question?

    “What?” His voice was equally breathless.

    “Why do you still have clothes on?”

    He leaned back onto his knees. “I was asking myself exactly that.” He pushed off the bed, tugging at his shirt. Flame grabbed the covers and tossed them to the end of the bed. When she turned, Pete stood naked, cock proudly erect. Walking on her knees to the side of the bed, Flame bent forward. The tip of his cock grazed under her chin. A dusting of dark hair circled his belly button. She poked her tongue in and out.

    “Mmm. Promises of things to come.” He ran his fingers through her hair.

    “I’m hoping emphasis on the word, come.”

    “Oh yeah. There’s going to be cuming. And groaning.” He bent lower and kissed the top of her head. “You know this is pretty much gonna be monkey sex. We’re both wired pretty tight.”

    Flame bent her arms and tickled her waist while performing her best monkey imitation. “Then let’s get the party started.” She braced herself on the bed, leaned closer, grabbed his hips for support, and covered his swollen penis with kisses. His breath quickened. His cock twitched. Changing what she did, she traced his shaft with teasing bites and long licks from bottom to top. When he was completely wet, she slipped the tip into her mouth. Holding him there, she reached around and grazed his bare ass with the tips of her fingers. His body quivered.

    Making a circle around him with her finger and thumb, she pressed her lips on her fingers and lowered her mouth as far as she could, then continued the movement with her hand. Pulling her hand back up to her lips, she slid back to his tip, and then lowering her head and hand once again. Her fingers reached between his legs and stroked his testicles. “Like that?”

    “Mm-hmm. That feels good.”

    She glanced up, met his gaze, and smiled.

    Using a light touch all the way through her coordinated stroke, she kept the pressure steady. His fingers wrapped in her hair as he pulled her closer, trying to get deeper into her.

    Her speed and pressure increased as the rest of her fingers encircled his engorged shaft and mimicked the efforts of her lips. His hips bucked into her. His breaths came in short sharp pants and the look on his face said he was focused on the delicious delights her mouth and hand provided him.

    Her left hand alternated from clawing his ass to caressing and squeezing his testicles.

    With a groan of frustration, his knees buckled. “Stop.” She dragged her lips up the length of his cock, slipping off and then kissing the tip. She could taste he was near his climax.

    Pete tucked his hands under her armpits and tossed her backward onto the bed. The mattress shook as he climbed on. He knelt and rested on his heels, taking a moment to admire her naked body. “You are beautiful.” His hands rubbed her nipples, enticing them to swell. He lowered his head and slipped the closest one into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it, making it wet and hard.

    The touch of his tongue on her breast made her clit throb. A groan was all the response she could muster.

    Read more of this incredible hot story F.L.E.S.H. on:

    Image courtesy of Daryl Devore

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  • Sexy Reads – Two Week Seduction

    Sexy Reads – Two Week Seduction

    She’s going to break all of his rules…

    Tech Sergeant John O’Donnell was never fond of his hometown. Too many reminders of poverty, his rocky family life, and the girl he was never allowed to have. Now he has exactly two weeks to sort out his mother’s finances before he heads back overseas. Two weeks that he’s determined to spend as far from his best friend’s little sister as possible.

    Alea Heling has a naughty streak a mile wide. Sweet and simple? Boring. She’s been craving a bad boy like John since their wild days together in high school, and this time, she’s not taking no for an answer. But with every panty-meltingly hot encounter, Alea forgets one hard, cold reality—this soldier won’t let a fortnight turn into forever…and forever might be exactly what they both need.

    Excerpt

    “Thank you for your help,” he said. His voice was rusty, but clear enough.

    She gasped in mock shock. “He speaks! Five words and it wasn’t rude!”

    Against his will, his lips twitched. She always could make him smile when he least wanted to.

    She leaned forward, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Let’s try something else. I know it’s dangerous—I mean, your head might explode or something—but I say we risk it. Give me a compliment.”

    “Fishing?” he drawled.

    She tsked. “That wasn’t a compliment. You’re supposed to say something nice. About me.”

    He didn’t answer. Mostly because he was thinking of all the things he wanted to say. That her skin looked soft and her eyes were a changeable hazel that always kept him guessing. That her tits were round and full, just begging to be nipped. That she was small compared to his 6’3″ frame, but she had legs long enough to wrap around his waist as he buried himself inside her. And that red hair, a bright red flash of color on her perfect body, was a scream of danger he lusted after.

    While those thoughts spun through his mind, her expression soured. With a sigh, she grabbed his empty beer bottle and held it before his eyes. “Say something nice to me and I’ll get you another beer.”

    She shook the bottle a little to grab his attention. It didn’t work. He was too busy watching how the breeze pressed her blouse flat against her chest. Her bra had lace, which meant texture, and he wondered what sound she’d make if he tugged it back and forth against her nipples.

    “John–-”

    “That’s a nice b-blouse.” Damn it, he’d almost said bra.

    Her mouth flattened with a sigh. “I thought you’d like it.”

    Alea leaned forward as she pushed to her feet. A curl of brown hair tumbled forward, pushing past the tiny gold hoop in her ear to dangle right before him. Without thinking, he grabbed the lock, winding it around his fingers. It wasn’t even long enough to pull into his fist. But it was close enough to hold her still. Her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth—those plump, pink lips—formed a perfect O.

    God, he’d been gone so long. And she was so much of a woman now.

    “John?”

    He wanted to say something, but he hadn’t the words. Just a thick want. He took a breath, trying to clear his head, but all he tasted on the air was her. A citrus scent, so appropriate to Florida and so missed when he was in Afghanistan. But there was another scent on top. The taste of woman, hot and spicy despite her demure yellow shirt.

    He should let her go, but his fingers just wouldn’t cooperate. He tightened his hold. And when her hair started to slip through his grip, he pushed forward in his chair. He deserved one taste. He sacrificed so his country would be safe. One kiss was nothing when stacked up against that.

    But if he was going to take her mouth—and he damn sure was—then he was going to take something else too…

    Loved what you read? Get the book at the following links today!

    AMAZON KINDLE US – http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KUYCEZK/?tag=jadeleeauthor-20

    AMAZON KINDLE CA – http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00KUYCEZK/?tag= kathylyons-20

    AMAZON KINDLE UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00KUYCEZK/?tag=kathylyons-21

    BARNES & NOBLES NOOK – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/two-week-seduction-kathy- lyons/1119702448?ean=9781622666416

    GOODREADS – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22466760-two-week-seduction

    SHELFARI – http://www.shelfari.com/books/37707680/Two-Week-Seduction – (Entangled-Brazen)

    Image courtesy of Jade Lee

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  • Sexy Reads – Sin Cafe

    Sexy Reads – Sin Cafe

    Sin Café is a place where you can go to live out your deepest fantasies and desires, where no one knows or cares what your name is, or what you do.  Where the world outside stops and the escape from reality begins.

    Excerpt

    The business card haunted her every time she opened her bag, today she intended to investigate Sin Café further.

    She searched through her local directory for ‘Sin Café’ and found nothing. She scoured the Internet, and still drew a blank. A novel, written in the 70’s, was the only item with the same name that appeared upon her screen.

    Knowing roughly where the street was to her home, Lucy decided to explore in person. Unsure of what she would find when eventually she came across the place, Lucy pondered her outfit.

    Going by the name on the card, and the events that may have brought about it being placed upon her car screen, she opted for smart, yet comfortable, casual, with a hint of sexy lingerie. To keep in tone with her mood, Lucy dressed in a dark blue denim dress, out of character with what she had on underneath.

    The contrast of clothing excited her; perhaps it even summed her up, plain on the outside but inside a roaring passion waiting to escape.

    Not that anyone would see them, but it made me feel good.

    Lucy admired her image in the full-length mirror. The suspender belt pinched slightly.

    ‘I need to work out a bit. Lose a pound or two.’

    She ran her hands over her body and fondled the lace, but stopped. She didn’t want to start anything she would have to finish; besides, she didn’t know what sort of place Sin Café could be; who knows what she would find.

    Excitement mounted as she collected her bag. She took a deep breath as she unlocked her car.

    She arrived at the outskirts of town, dock area, the old part of town, once the home of the only brothel in town; Sadie’s. It had been closed for some three years now. According to the local paper, moral campaigners with their protests finally got their own way, that and the growing surge in Internet escort agencies finally killed off Sadie’s.

    Lucy stopped the car, got out and looked at the map. Yes, this is where she thought Cobolt St. should be, and sure enough, just ahead, she saw a small sign with the street name, pointing into a narrow alley. The area was quiet, with only a couple of dock workers seated on a packing case a few yards ahead ; cautiously, Lucy walked down the alley.

    The doors appeared locked, or boarded up. There was no signs and nothing indicated whether they were open for business, or even what their businesses might be; it was a strange place. It was also a dead-end. Lucy could see no sign for Sin Café, and she felt she had bene led up the proverbial garden path or dirty alley in this case.

    ‘Now I’m really pissed off. Someone played me a fool. What the heck was I expecting?’

    She turned to go back to the car, but as she did, a young woman passed by her. Lucy watched her go to almost the end of the alley, stop, stoop down under a canopy and vanish.

    Lucy hurried after her. She approached the place where the girl had vanished, and she saw for herself, written in small print on the canopy; Sin Café. She stooped down under the canopy and began walking down a set of metal steps, her low heel shoes clanking and echoing as she descended. She reached the bottom and taking a deep breath, with her hand shaking on the handle, she opened the door.

    Inside, four men and three women sat drinking and chatting, their eyes fixed on Lucy; it felt to her as if each one of them mentally undressed her, even the women. She approached the counter. A good-looking Latina girl stood behind the large walnut colored counter. She looked from the book she was reading straight at Lucy. Her vivid green eyes focused on Lucy and she smiled.

    “Coffee?”

    She spoke just the one word and poured as Lucy nodded her head. The black coffee steamed in the cup and Lucy took it from her. She usually added milk but this was not the occasion for such familiar habits.

    Lucy looked around for a place to sit and made her way to the back of the room. The conversation in the café returned to a low hum, as she picked up the boiling coffee cup and raised it to her lips to sip.

    The Latina girl approached her; she wore a low-cut blouse and split skirt, the flesh of her thighs briefly exposed. She sported a great tan as she stood next to Lucy’s table and offered a menu.

    “I’m not hungry thank you.”

    “Who said anything about eating?” the Latina smiled.

    Lucy opened the menu; inside the plain black laminated cover was a picture of two women sucking two men’s cocks. Somewhat surprised, she self-consciously glanced around the room. The girl at the reception desk winked at her, but the others were intent upon each other, and Lucy realized they were not fussed by her presence. Intrigued, she turned the page, and another set of pictures opened. This time, it showed a woman being fucked by three men, one had his cock in her anus and the other had their cocks in the women’s pussy in a double penetration shot. Lucy’s cheeks flushed. She could not believe she was in a public place, looking at such things. This was one of the most daring things she had ever done. Lucy turned another page.

    It showed a guy dressed only in a white loin cloth. Towering over him was a tall blonde woman clad in thigh high leather boots and leather corset. In her hand she held a large whip. She peered down on the subjugated man as he licked her boots. In another picture the same man was prostrate over a chair, as the tall female Mistress fucked him with a large black strap-on.

    There were other images, mostly of naked men and women in orgies and groups. Lucy stopped turning the pages and placed the menu back on the table.

    Lucy stopped turning the pages and placed the menu back on the table.

    The Latina returned. “What would you like?” Lucy stood awkwardly. “Nothing… thank you.”

    But Lucy couldn’t deny the excitement or the dampness between her legs. Lucy was frustrated, that was true, but she couldn’t be as crude as this, could she? Ordering sex off a menu?

    “Please yourself, but ask yourself why did you come here?” the Latina questioned her before she turned away.

    “Can I look at it one more time?”

    The Latina gave the menu back to Lucy and smiled. “How about an appetizer?”

    The Latina leaned forward exposing her large breasts and a little pert nipple. “Pardon?” Lucy asked for clarification.

    “A starter if you like?”

    The Latina motioned to one of the men to come over. A tall guy, blonde haired, probably late twenties early thirties, reasonably well-built, wearing an open neck check shirt, black denim jeans, and black shiny boots reminiscent of some western cowboy without the spurs, sauntered over to the two women; the Latina girl stroked the man’s arm playfully and pushed him gently towards Lucy.

    “This is Fletcher; he will be your starter…”

    Lucy looked a little confused as the man stood in front of them both. Without ceremony, the Latina girl dropped to her knees and began to unzip his pants.

    “Okay, I will show you.”

    She grabbed hold of Fletcher’s jeans and pushed her hand inside; he wasn’t wearing any Calvin’s and she plunged her hand straight on his cock, rubbing it with her fingers. Fletcher groaned at the feel of his cock hardening. The girl drew closer to him as she opened her mouth wide and pushed the hard flesh into her mouth. Lucy watched the girl sucking the man’s cock harder and deeper, as he pressed her head against his stomach and tugged on her hair. Fletcher’s eyes rolled in their sockets. Lucy’s own pussy began to melt while she watched the scene unfold before her, in some pseudo voyeuristic act. The Latina girl stopped sucking, a look of pure lust across her face as she gripped the cock in her hand, squeezing so the veins pulsed.

    Find out more about what Lucy goes through at Sin Cafe by purchasing the book on Amazon here http://www.amazon.com/Sin-Café-Thomas-Rochester/dp/1482776154/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1421681959&sr=8-5&keywords=sin+cafe

    Image courtesy of Thomas Rochester

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  • Sexy Reads – The White Witch’s Legacy 1: Raven

    Sexy Reads – The White Witch’s Legacy 1: Raven

    When Xander Kane meets a delectable exotic dancer in a bar, he is instantly drawn to her striking beauty. He knows he has to have her, but when he finally convinces her to let him take her home, she disappears without a trace after they share an electrifying night together. He never thought he would see her again, but when fate takes her right back to his doorstep he is intent on making her pay for running out on him like she did. But Raven is not what she seems, and the secrets she hides, coupled with his own dark skeletons, threatens to destroy any hope that Xander harbored for them.

    Raven embarks on a perilous journey to protect her mother’s legacy and finds herself fighting for her life at every turn. When she meets Xander Kane, he is everything she wants in a man and everything she cannot afford to let herself have right now. Will they be able to overcome the obstacles that confront them at every turn and find their way to love?

    Excerpt

    “Don’t come.” Xander’s voice was like a battering ram slamming into her head, interrupting the intoxicating sexual high she had been experiencing.

    “No!” she screamed when his lips left her sex, his head moving from between her legs.

    He chuckled softly, gently easing her legs off his shoulders and rising to his feet. “I say when, beautiful, never forget that. You come when I tell you to, only when I tell you to.”

    She had to bite her tongue to quell the annoyance that welled in her stomach at his words. Who the fuck did he think he was? She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. She wanted to knee him in the groin and get the hell out of there. But when he took her hand and pulled her off the sofa, she couldn’t find the will to even resist for a moment. She was desperate for him, desperate for the pleasure she knew he could give her. Moisture seeped between her thighs when she noticed the lustful animal ferocity in his sea-blue eyes and her anticipation returned with full force. Oh God, maybe she was a whore after all!

    He spun her around so that the fronts of her thighs were touching the arm of the sofa. He ran his hand over her shoulders and down her arms, reaching around to cup her breasts, as he used his body to push her forward. She was now fully bent over the sofa arm, ass held high, head lying on the soft cushions. She whimpered when one of his hands trailed a heated path along her spine to finally splay at her waist and hold her in place. His other hand delved between her thighs, easing the thong fully to the side as he sank two long, thick fingers into her body with exquisite gentleness.

    “So eager, so fucking wet,” he whispered as he withdrew his fingers to fondle her clit before sinking them into her heat again. Myra couldn’t stop herself from gyrating on his hand. Her pussy clenched and gushed reflexively, loving the feel of his fingers inside her sex, wanting even more still.

    “Please…please, I-I’m so…God, don’t make me beg.” Hot tears stung the back of her eyes when she heard the desperate, pathetic words that had just been uttered from her lips. How did he do this to her? How did he reduce her to nothing more than want and need without even trying?

    “You don’t need to beg, beautiful, at least not tonight. Tonight I’ll freely give you what you desire, all that you desire.” He pulled back then, leaving her momentarily to quickly sheath himself with a condom. Then he was plunging into her, his powerful cock forcing its way into her tight channel, stretching her almost painful. A loud gasp escaped Myra when she felt him sinking into her. God, she’d forgotten how big he was. Jesus, he was so damn huge! She gripped the sofa for support as he filled her to capacity, inch by glorious inch.

    “Christ, you feel good. So fucking good around my cock,” he rasped, his voice shaking with unleashed lust. He pulled back, sliding his cock completely out of her. She glanced over her shoulder wildly, afraid he would stop. Did he plan to just leave her hungry and desperate like this, to punish her? God, she wouldn’t survive it.

    “Don’t go! Xander, please, I—”

    “Shhh,” he said, and she watched as he held his magnificent cock in one hand and slowly rubbed it against her moist slit, teasing her until she was wiggling against him, pressing back to try and force him to enter her again. Then suddenly, he was at her entrance again, his thick member sliding into her like it was made to be there. She cried out as he began to fuck her steadily, pulling back and pushing in, finding a delicious rhythm that made her pussy clench and flutter.

    “Yes…Jesus, yes!” she cried, curling her fingers into the cushion. Xander grabbed her hips and continued to fuck her at an almost leisurely pace, pumping into her with slow, torturous thrusts. Myra worked her hips, pushing back on him to try and get him deeper into her body.

    “That’s it, beautiful, fuck me back.”

    Love what you just read and like the rest of it?  Get it here at the following links:

    http://www.bookstrand.com/the-white-witchs-legacy-1-raven

    http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NVENDS8

    Image courtesy of Kelsie Belle

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  • Sexy Reads – The Art Teacher

    Sexy Reads – The Art Teacher

    Mireille, a high school senior just weeks shy of graduation, has no qualms admitting that the real reason she sticks around long after the final bell is not to work on her painting for the upcoming show, but to admire the masterpiece that is her art teacher, Mr. Thompson. When a mysterious phone call prompts him to shut the door to his back office, BWE 2015 CoverMireille can’t help but succumb to the temptation to spy. To her surprise and delight, Mr. Thompson is only too eager to put on a private show of his own. Read this story and many others in Best Women’s Erotica 2015, from Cleis Press.

    Excerpt

    I hear papers shuffling and the creak of his office chair, followed by footsteps and the uneven spray of water sputtering out of the old faucet where we cleanse our brushes and palettes. He is in the classroom now, maybe twenty feet behind me.

    I am standing at a long table where I have laid out an assortment of paints and other tools, as well as my work-in-progress. I bend over the metal slab and roll onto the balls of my feet so that my ass is slightly raised and my back arched. I hope I’m not being too obvious in my short skirt, gray stockings with rose detailing, and black tank top. Technically, we aren’t supposed to wear tank tops to school, but since it’s after hours and I’m growing bored with subtlety, I’ve removed my sweatshirt so that Mr. Thompson can get a better look at my sizable chest and petite figure. I’m no model by any stretch of the imagination, but puberty has been surprisingly kind to me, so although I may stand almost a foot shorter than him, I am well-proportioned. More than anything, I hope he notices this, too.

    I’ve hiked the skirt up a bit so that when I bend over, one can just barely see a hint of my purple knickers. I’ve always loved that word; it’s naughtier than underwear and less trite than panties. The fact that I’m not British is of little concern to me.

    The faucet squeaks and then there is silence. I assume he’s still at the counter but don’t dare turn to look. I pray to every God and Goddess that has ever existed that he is noticing me, the hint of purple fabric, and how the lace trim on my stockings clings to the flesh of my upper thighs. Of course, there’s always the possibility that he’s eyeing me with disdain, thinking my efforts silly or too transparent. I would die if he asked me to cover up. Then again, I would die if he asked me to take it off. Please, just fucking kill me already.

    Mr. Thompson’s footsteps break the silence, growing louder as he meanders over to the table. My heart threatens to choke me but I remain composed. He is standing beside me, surveying my work. I happen to be shading the woman’s left breast, relying on neon yellows and navy blues to give it a more three-dimensional appearance.

    “This is coming along beautifully, Mireille. I really like how you’ve decided to go with unconventional colors. They stand out nicely against the black background.” He gestures to the work I’ve already completed around her face, those lean, beautiful hands moving in ways that both thrill and transfix. I can’t help but relish the way my name expertly rolls off of his tongue; he obviously speaks French.

    “Thanks.” I am nervous and can’t seem to raise my voice above a loud whisper but the emptiness of the room negates the need to project myself.

    “Do you think you’ll have it ready by next Friday?” His gray-blue eyes follow the brush as it strokes the underside of the painted woman’s breast.

    Mr. Thompson does not look at me, which I find to be both a blessing and a tragedy. I watch him longer than I should, marveling at his sharp cheekbones and the angle of his jaw, all painfully untouchable.

    “I think so. The outline is almost finished. All I have left to do is the shading.”

    He glances at me and my groin tightens. I bite the interior of my cheek to distract myself and avert my eyes back down toward the painting. The woman’s stare mocks me.

    “Well, let me know if I can help in any way.” Mr. Thompson turns and retraces his steps to the back office.

    My thoughts race as I think of all the things I’d like him to help me with. For starters, he might help me out of my skirt and stockings. After which, he could help himself to my virgin cunt. Damn, I love that word. My mother absolutely cannot abide hearing it but I use it every chance I get.

    Cunt. My tight, virgin cunt. My hungry cunt.

    I really must stop before I lose my composure, as I’ve already begun squeezing my thighs together and rocking back and forth reflexively. The fact that I have to pee only draws more attention to that sadly neglected area. It’s not that I do not masturbate because I do, often, but I’ve never had another person besides my family doctor touch me there. It’s one thing to do it yourself, to have complete control over which areas get stimulated and in what way, but I can only imagine how exciting and scary it would be to have another person’s hands, fingers and—oh gosh—mouth down there, manipulating me in ways I can’t even conceptualize.

    The shriek of a telephone in Mr. Thompson’s office jolts me out of my reverie and I realize that I’ve just accidentally over-shaded the painted woman’s right breast.

    “Shit,” I hiss, dipping my brush into a bit of yellow in the hopes of compensating for the damage.

    Mr. Thompson answers the phone at a normal volume but then begins to speak in hushed whispers. I hear footsteps and then the sound of a heavy door creaking and latching. I turn and see that he has closed the door to his office. At the same time, I notice a quarter-sized hole beneath the knob. The door must have featured a lock at one point but, for whatever reason, it was removed. I debate the ethics of grasping this opportunity to spy on him and my curiosity is far more powerful than any sense of morality. Before long, I’m removing my gray flats and slinking towards the door.

    I crouch, hovering just above the floor with my eye to the peephole. I can barely make out his side of the conversation and am both affronted and intrigued by what I hear.

    “Of course I’ve thought about you since August. How could I not? That was some of the best damn head I’ve ever gotten.”

    He is talking to a woman. I know this because the tinny, unintelligible voice coming out the other end of the phone sounds high-pitched, feminine. His own voice is low and guttural, deeper than I’m used to hearing in class. I’m both insanely jealous and eager to hear more.

    Mr. Thompson is reclining in his desk chair with his legs spread wide and his other hand stuffed inside the pocket of his paint-stained jeans. There is some squeaky dialogue from the other end of the line. I wish I could hear what she’s saying, as he’s obviously enjoying the conversation. The thought of myself ever being the catalyst for that broad, lascivious smile on his face makes my cunt throb.

    “I’m glad I was able to do that for you.” He pauses, listening, then continues, “If I could, I’d drive up there this weekend and finish you off properly.”

    More muffled dialogue, then, “Nah, I have this art show thing to get ready for so I’ll be pretty busy till next weekend. Believe me, I’d much rather spend the next three days with my head between your legs.” A sly smile spreads across his face. “Oh, really? Well, you’re welcome to try.”

    Read and purchase the rest of the story at

    Image courtesy of Rachel Woe

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  • Sexy Reads – Harriet: A Family Affair

    Sexy Reads – Harriet: A Family Affair

    The Mallory Malloy Collection is a collection of erotic short stories chronicling the sex life of Benjamin from college to the advanced stages of a professional career. From wealthy, privileged women pay him for his time, to US Ambassadors, preacher’s wives to his girlfriend’s daughter and her BFF, Mallory Malloy stories are as funny and smart as they are explicit.

    Excerpt

    Joan walked up to Benjamin and placed her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was a warm, tender kiss, as if they were in love. Then she pressed her body against his cock.

    “My beautiful, beautiful boy,” she whispered. “There are some things I want to do to you. And then there are some things you are going to do to me.”

    Joan kissed again, tenderly and with an open mouth, her granddaughter’s boyfriend

    “First, I am going to suck that large, hard cock of yours.”

    Joan’s tongue tickled one of Benjamin’s ears.

    “Nobody in this family sucks dick like I do. Nobody. Not that child you’re seeing now,” Joan hissed dismissively “and certainly not her mother. Nobody.”

    “Really?”

    “Young man, when you marry this rich it ain’t for love. You’ve got to earn it. Head is a good way to do that.”

    Benjamin smiled.

    “Then you are going to eat me out. Then you are going to fuck me. Do you understand that?”

    Benjamin nodded softly.

    Joan took Benjamin’s hand and led him to a wall. She moved a framed picture of her, Harriet and Brenda and pushed a button.

    The wall moved silently. It revealed a short hallway with soft lighting.

    Joan took Benjamin’s hand and led him to the end of the hall, where she pushed another button.

    Another door slid open, revealing a small bedroom. There was a king sized bed, nightstands on each side and another door that led to a washroom.

    “Make all the noise you want. The library is not only remote, it’s soundproofed. Trust me.”

    Benjamin still maintained silence. He was going to fuck this beautiful older woman. There was nothing to say.

    “Get naked, young man.”
Benjamin complied.
Joan took off her bikini. There were some signs of age. 59 is 59, after all, but the wrinkles were few and Joan didn’t look a whole lot older than her daughter, Harriet.

    Both naked, she told Benjamin to get on the bed, preferably on his back. Benjamin complied and in short order Joan joined Benjamin and began sucking Benjamin’s dick. Joan did this with enthusiasm. She enjoyed sucking dick, and she especially enjoyed sucking 21-year-old dick. Sadly, however, Joan had seen her opportunities to suck 21-year-old dick diminish over the years.

    But not end entirely. Though the number of young men in their 20’s that were attracted to Joan had declined as she got older, Joan had a great deal of experience fucking younger men. It began when her beloved daughter Harriet was in high school and began throwing parties, which were attended by a variety of young, strapping boys. Most of these boys were not attracted to women her age, but some were, and it wasn’t particularly difficult to find which boys these were. They were the ones with tents in their swim trunks when Joan happened to run into them in the kitchen. They were ones who stared at her and tried to drum up lame conversation with her and who enjoyed it when a foxy older broad grabbed their cocks while they were alone in the kitchen, even though anyone, like Harriet – or their girlfriends – for instance, could walk in at any time. It took some planning so innocent, precious Harriet didn’t find out, but Joan got her share of young cock.

    Nobody would know. The estate was large and the party was well on the other side and she wasn’t going to tell her guests she had just fucked her granddaughter’s boyfriend. Also, Benjamin could probably be trusted not to go around blabbing about what a great lay Joan was, either. As long as they weren’t gone too long and didn’t waltz back to the party holding hands it was likely no one would miss them. The library, and the servant, had been doing their duty for years.

    Joan really did not want to stop sucking Benjamin’s dick. It was insanely hard and thick and long and young, but they didn’t have all day, and Joan desperately wanted the 21-year-old cock in her pussy.

    So she rolled over and Benjamin was on top of her before Joan could order it. Her perfume was intoxicating. He kissed her and sucked on her tongue and worked his way down Joan’s neck and before he knew it he was working on Joan’s breasts. They were nice breasts, still firm, still more or less real. The surgery to keep them looking young had been as discreet as it had been expert.

    Benjamin worked his way down Joan’s stomach and soon was eating 59-year-old pussy. He liked it, too.

    Benjamin tried to explain his older woman tendencies to a buddy once but he didn’t see it. Too bad for him, Benjamin thought, because nobody fucks like an older broad getting young cock. Nobody. And Joan’s pussy tasted just like her granddaughter Brenda’s pussy tasted.

    Joan, though, had more patience than her granddaughter. Where Brenda got really worked up really quick, Joan was willing to let Benjamin do his work. It wasn’t expert work, by any means. Benjamin, after all, was a younger man and while in possession of the raw materials required for pleasing a hot older blond, his pussy eating technique, tragically, was more useful for eating corn on the cob. But Joan’s guiding hand provided expert instruction, however and in no time at all Joan had Benjamin eating her out so well she lost count of the number of times she had come.

    Benjamin found he had zero moral issues with eating out his girlfriend’s grandmother. None at all. It was rather easy, actually. 38 years was a lot of age difference, but Joan wasn’t Benjamin’s first older blonde. Two, he and Brenda weren’t exactly Couple of the Year and Benjamin thought they probably would be broken up before the holidays.

    Joan certainly didn’t care. Her life, while certainly luxurious and not too difficult, had not been particularly satisfying. Like most women, she liked the cock and her late husband had been a dutiful provider, but her husband had been her age.

    On Joan’s orders Benjamin stopped eating her pussy and started fucking her.

    Read the rest of Harriet: A Family Affair for FREE at http://mallorymalloy.net/HarrietRead.htm

    Image courtesy of Mallory Malloy

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  • Sexy Reads – Red, White & Used

    Sexy Reads – Red, White & Used

    Red, White, & Used is a dark story that chronicles the life of Allison Holden, a striking redhead with a dysfunctional past. She engages in adulterous and unhealthy relationships with men who mentally and physically abuse her. Follow Allie on this non-stop ride, filled with twists and turns, as the chaos of her life unfolds.

    Excerpt

    He pushed me to the floor and I landed on my face.  I couldn’t brace myself because my hands were tied behind my back.  I was already sore, and he was only beginning.

    His strong hands grabbed my right hip and shoulder and flipped me onto my back.  My arms were pinned beneath me in an awkward contortion.  I couldn’t see him.  The blindfold prevented me from seeing anything about my surroundings or what was happening to me.

    I felt his weight on my shoulders.  He must have crouched down and pressed his knees into the carpet on either side of my head.  His shins pinned my shoulders to the floor.  He grabbed the hair on top of my head and yanked my head upward.  With his other hand he opened my jaw.

    He had a pretty big dick; I knew that already.  And being unable to control the insertion into my mouth, it went in so deep I nearly choked.  The gagging seemed to turn him on.  He continued to brutally fuck my mouth, guiding the movement with one hand on my lower jaw and the other clinging tightly to my hair.

    Just when I didn’t think I could take any more, he dropped my head back onto the floor.  I felt him lift off of me, but knew I was in for more punishment.  There was an eerie silence and lack of activity for an excruciating amount of time.  For a moment, I thought he had left me there like that.

    I let out a sharp shriek when he landed on top of me again.  This time he attacked my breasts.  He yanked open my shirt and pushed my bra upwards giving him unhindered access.  He squeezed and pinched one breast while licking and sucking the other.  His mouth stayed on my nipple while his hand slid down to my skirt.  Jerking it upward, he tore it a little.  Then I felt his hand inside of my panties.  His fingers were rough against my smooth skin.  He shoved two fingers inside of me unapologetically, and massaged me from the inside.

    My hands and arms ached from being pinned under the weight of both of our bodies.  He didn’t care.  My pleas and moans only served to arouse him.

    With a few strong tugs, he ripped my panties off of my hips.  He didn’t bother removing all of my clothes, only what he needed to gain access to the parts of my body he wanted.  And there was nothing I could do about it.

    Suddenly, I was face down again, and lint from the carpet was in my mouth.  He yanked my hips upward so that they were supported by my knees.  Then he entered me from behind.  One hand squeezed my ass while the other pressed my head against the floor.  He pushed in and out of me aggressively, and I was sure I would get rug-burn on my face.  And he was in me so goddamn deep.

    No, I was not getting raped.  That’s just how I liked it – hard and rough.  I was being completely dominated, and I loved every second of it.  Being utterly helpless was such a turn on for me.  I was his toy to do with whatever he pleased.

    He came inside of me, and held himself there until every drop of his fluid had drained.  He left me completely satisfied, yet still wanting more.  I relaxed onto the carpet and waited to be released from my bondage.  After a moment of quiet, I felt him untying the nylon ropes from my wrist.  Then he removed my blindfold.

    I could finally see Trevor Masterson – the man who made my toes curl; the man who dominated me and brought me to the pinnacle of ecstasy.  I was crazy about him, or at least what he did for me.  However, I wasn’t sure if Masterson were his real name.  It seemed too convenient that a guy who liked to be the “master” was named Masterson.  I didn’t care if he was lying to me.  Our relationship certainly wasn’t about truth and honesty.  It was just about kinky passionate sex.

    I had been seeing Trevor for about a month.  We didn’t have a slow kindling romantic relationship like a typical couple.  No, we had crazy animalistic sex the first night we met.  He had shown me pornographic pictures on his cell phone of couples engaged in bondage, domination, submission, humiliation, you name it.  It was the type of sex I had wanted to try for a long time.  And Trevor was more than happy to oblige.

    We got together about once a week, or whenever I could get away.  Of course, I always had to keep our dates discreet.  I was sure my husband would not approve.

    Purchase and read the rest of Red, White & Used at http://jamieagee.com/erotic-stories-red-white-used

    Image courtesy of Vanessa Vale

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  • Sexy Reads – Awakening the Willow’s Heart

    Sexy Reads – Awakening the Willow’s Heart

    Miya Jenkins comes from a troubled home, but she’s determined to be a success and learns to trust her instincts and never relinquish control, all while enjoying what life and men have to offer. Sister and brother, Cate and Caden Walker, are her best friends. Caden is always there for her, always protective, always a comfort, but wanting more. Miya is not willing to sacrifice their friendship, but she wonders if anyone can ever tear down the high walls built around her heart.

    Excerpt

    I looked over at Caden who had become very quiet all of a sudden. “What?” His eyes were an intense brown. He wore a dSenseless Teaser1etermined an expression on his face.

    “So, JW Events, huh?” He scooted closer to me. Passion filled his eyes.

    I nodded and my heart started to race. Breathlessly, I whispered, “Caden, I…” As soon as his name escaped my mouth, his covered mine. His lips were soft, but his kiss was hungry. I was shocked at first. Instantly my body sobered up. At the same time, my lips parted and my tongue flirted with his. My body relaxed, and my arms wound around his neck. He pulled me close.

    Caden kissed my neck. “Tell me to stop, Miya, if you don’t want this.”

    I couldn’t say a damn thing. I should have, but I didn’t want to. We were roommates. We were best friends. His family took me in when I had no one. My abusive past had left me totally fucked up but right now, my brain and my body weren’t on the same planet. I took a deep breath and melted into his arms. All logic flew right out the window. I was a woman. He was a man, a mighty fine one too, and that was all that mattered now.

    Caden picked me up and cradled me in his arms. He carried me into my bedroom. His legs were as steady as could be, despite the tequila shots we had consumed. He broke the kiss only long enough to look into my eyes. “I want you, Miya.”Kissing Him Promo1

    I cupped his face and devoured his mouth. He put me down and swiftly pulled my T-shirt off over my head. I pulled his off with the same immediate need. He yanked my yoga pants and thong down in one fell swoop. He took a step back and looked at me. “Damn. You are so fucking beautiful.”

    “Caden,” I whispered through my panting breath, and pulled him back toward me. I shoved down his sweats and boxer briefs. He pushed me down on the bed. He parted my legs and his mouth immediately descended onto my sex. His tongue lapped my slit over, and over again. It settled on my tight swollen nub as his fingers thrust in me.

    “Oh, God,” I moaned as my fingers mussed up his hair and clenched there. Just as I was on the brink, he stopped and his hard cock filled me.

    “Fuck Miya. You feel so good.” He pulled back out and thrust in harder. His thrusts became harder and harder each time.

    His mouth and hands caressed my breasts, while my own explored every damn sexy muscle on his body. My legs started to quiver as my pussy contracted around his cock. I emitted a passionate moan as I rode out the waves of my orgasm. My body milked Caden, and he joined me with his own low guttural growl.

    Watch the book trailer here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-G0mC5out3Y&feature=youtu.be and you can order it online at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SM83E7I

    Awakening the Willow’s Heart is also available in print on Barnes & Noble

    All images courtesy of Jacqueline Anne
    Have an erotica or book you like to share and promote on SimplySxy?  Drop us an email at editorial@SimplySxy.com!