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Sneak Peak: Bound to the Fey (Book Four of the Mortal Champion)

May 10, 2015 admin Leave a comment

Hi Everyone,

I’m hard at work on part four of my supernatural series, The Mortal Champion. When Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness threatens the Balance between Summer and Winter, a champion is selected. A single Mortal gifted with the power to settle the conflict between the Summer and Winter courts of the Fey.

At a small university, the fates of the Mortal and Fey worlds falls. The Mortal Champion will be a supernatural, erotic romance full of hot, kinky sex and thrilling action.

Bound to the Fey is available for $2.99 at Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE, and for Kindle Unlimited subscribers, you can borrow Bound to the Fey for free!

Here’s a sneak peak at book 4!

Bound to the Fey (Book Four of the Mortal Champion)

Chapter One: Rose of Despair

I lost him.

The thought echoed through the Pixie’s mind as she stared up at the dark storm clouds churning above her. She lay naked, hidden by the tightly-grown rose brushes, concealed from the outside world. From her failure.

I lost him.

Only hours ago, she had been happy and engaged to the Mortal Champion. To Gunnar.

Maeve of the Red Rose had left Summer, the realm of the Seelie Faerie, and ventured forth into the Mortal World. She was the Emissary of Queen Titania, sent to find the Mortal Champion before Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness, could claim him.

And now Corrigan, Winter’s Emissary, had done just that.

And it’s all my fault.

A month ago, she had crossed over and met Gunnar. Not only had she found the Mortal Champion before Winter, but she had won his heart. Gunnar was amazing. He was strong and loving, passionate and caring. He was a warrior and poet. Nurseful… Together, they had forged a strong love, armoring Gunnar from Corrigan’s foul magic.

So long as Maeve and Gunnar loved each other, Corrigan of the Winter’s Kiss, a vile Lean Sidhe of the Unseelie Fey, could not use her magic to twist Gunnar’s love and enslave him. So Corrigan had first tried to kill Maeve.

But the Pixie had survived, and the assassination attempt only seemed to bring her and Gunnar closer together. And then he had proposed marriage a week ago.

The naked Pixie brushed her finger against the engagement ring on her left hand as the rain hammered her. Her gossamer wings fluttered once, half submerged in icy, muddy water. The cold seeped into the Fey, but she didn’t notice it as she ran through her mistakes over and over.

I lost him.

Even as Maeve and Gunnar had grown closer and closer, she found it harder and harder to admit to Gunnar what she truly was. She couldn’t bear for her solid, practical, stubborn warrior to reject her true nature. Gunnar didn’t believe in magic or Fairies. She kept putting it off and off while Gunnar became more and more convinced that Maeve was open and honest with him.

And Corrigan had used that mistake to shatter Gunnar’s love.

While celebrating her engagement to Gunnar—what poor, dead Magda had called a bachelorette party—a Bodath had attacked Maeve’s sorority. The foul Fey had been birthed by Corrigan and tore through Maeve’s protective spells around the sorority with ease. Though Maeve had killed the Bodath, strangling the beast with roses, the Fey had killed Magda.

I let down Gunnar and my best friend.

In a fury over the beautiful Magda’s death, the Pixie had launched herself into the night. She had been full of the fiery passion of love and Summer. Maeve had followed the Bodath’s trail to Corrigan’s house.

Maeve had been so full of rage she hadn’t immediately noticed Gunnar’s presence. The Pixie had blown apart Corrigan’s wards and blasted open her living room. She had flown in, ready to burn the Lean Sidhe apart.

Instead Corrigan was kissing Gunnar. And instead of fighting Maeve, Corrigan had cast a glamour, clouding Gunnar’s vision while she cried and blubbered, hiding behind Gunnar. Before Maeve knew what was happening, Corrigan’s pair of hellhounds had leaped past the Pixie to attack Gunnar. Corrigan had been ready for this moment, handing Gunnar a cold iron poker. Maeve’s mighty warrior had easily dispatched the pair of hellhounds while Corrigan maintained her terrified act.

Gunnar had thought Maeve had sent the hellhounds to attack him. Corrigan’s glamour had made him see the Pixie as something foul. Maeve had tried to break the illusion, but she had stood in the heart of Corrigan’s power. Because of her failure, Gunnar’s love had been shattered by the belief his fiancee had tried to kill him.

That I am a monster.

Maeve had witnessed Gunnar’s love shatter. She could see people’s auras, read their hearts, and Gunnar’s love in her had been badly damaged. It left him open to Corrigan’s touch. Maeve had kept trying, but Gunnar had the cold iron poker gripped in his fist. He had been terrified of her, brandishing the foul cold iron—the only substance truly poisonous to a Fey—at her.

Despair had claimed Maeve, and she had fled to her roses.

I lost him.

Images of Gunnar kneeling before Corrigan flooded her mind. Her strong warrior was owned by Winter. Corrigan had manipulated Maeve into destroying her own love.

Only despair filled Maeve, driving away all her love. Bit by bit, she would let grief steal her away into dreamless sleep and fade from the world.

I lost him.

~ ~ ~

Gunnar’s mind didn’t want to work as he followed Corrigan through her house. The disgusting, foul thing that had been his fiancee had ripped out his heart when she flew off, leaving only a hollow hole that needed filling. Even if it was with Corrigan.

His mind rebelled at comprehending what his fiancee had really turned out to be. How his sweet, loving, playful lover had secretly been a hideous fiend didn’t make sense to Gunnar. He didn’t want to think about it.

Once again, the woman I love turned out to be a monster.

First Mindy had crushed Gunnar’s heart when she revealed that she was secretly a slut, letting every guy at a party gangbang her. And now Maeve. Gunnar was glad his heart was gone. He only wished the pain would flee as well.

Corrigan’s perfect, shapely ass swayed before him as she climbed the stairs. Flashes of her shaved pussy appeared between her sleek thighs. Her violet hair fell in a curtain down her back, swaying as she walked, and her golden eyes shot him smoky looks over her shoulder, beckoning him onward.

His blood grew hotter. The drunken lust he had felt at the bachelor party returned, hardening his cock. He focused on the lust, the ache in his empty chest fading. It was soothing to feel anything other than despair.

“I’ve been waiting for this for such a long time,” purred Corrigan. “Umm, but you are so handsome, Gunnar.”

He didn’t answer. That was too much effort.

“I’ll make you forget all about that horrible Maeve. Don’t you worry. I’ll heal your pain.” Her voice was thick and sultry, purring like honey, but there was the faintest hint of ice.

Gunnar didn’t care. She could be cold. All he wanted was to be rid of the pain, to lose himself in any distraction.

The last image of Maeve reared in Gunnar’s mind, not the fearsome thing dripping foul ichor with hideous, fly-like wings, but of her red hair flying behind her, her gossamer wings glinting gold, and the terrible despair engulfing her face.

Gunnar stumbled, pausing on the stairs.

Why had she been full of despair? She had fled in fear of the poker, so why did she look so different that last—

A blast of frigid air engulfed Gunnar, driving away that thought. His blood burned hotter, driving away the cold. Corrigan waited at the top of the stairs, her breasts round and inviting, her pink nipples hard. She beckoned.

Gunnar’s throbbing cock urged him to follow.

His feet thumped as he climbed the last few stairs. Corrigan led him into a bedroom. The decoration surprised him. The carpet was white as fresh snow, the bed was intricately carved, clearly an antique, and stained almost black. A pale-blue comforter covered the bed. The dresser was covered in dollies, and little cat knickknacks dotted the room. Pictures of an old woman holding various cats dotted the walls.

It wasn’t the bedroom of a wild girl like Corrigan.

“This is my grandmother’s house,” she smiled, sensing his question. “She’s on a cruise and I’m watching it for her.”

Corrigan stretched out on the bed, writhing sensuously. Gunnar’s cock burned hotter, aching to be buried in her flesh, to find forgetfulness in her arms. Gunnar ripped off his shirt, exposing his broad chest, ruffling his shoulder-length, sandy-blond hair. He had the build and look of a Viking warrior, wide shoulders, rippling muscles. Only his eyes would seem strange, one blue and the other brown.

“I’ve been dreaming of this all semester,” moaned Corrigan. “Ever since I laid eyes on you that first time in Professor Webster’s class.” Her fingers slid down her lush body, pushing between her thighs and stroking her pussy. She spread her lips open, revealing her wet, pink flesh. “I need you! Make love to me, Gunnar. Forget about Maeve. Take your reward for driving off that demon.”

“Demon?” Gunnar growled. Was Maeve a demon?

How could you love a demon?

The pain returned, so he ignored it, listening to his throbbing cock. He ripped off his pants, his girth popping out. Corrigan let out a throaty moan, her fingers playing through her pussy lips as she writhed, her tits jiggling.

“Come to me, Gunnar. Be mine.”

A cold wind tickled down the back of his neck. Corrigan seemed even more beautiful and desirable. She eclipsed any woman Gunnar had ever seen. Her beauty was perfect. He drank in her pale, lithe flesh as he moved to the bed.

He crawled onto the blue comforter, seizing her thighs and pulling her pussy closer to his mouth. She smelled cool and fresh. His mouth watered. Gunnar took a long lick up her pussy, savoring her flavor as she shuddered.

“Yes! Eat me! Love me! Worship me, Gunnar! Oh, yes! I’ve wanted this for so long! Umm, yes!”

Gunnar spread her pussy lips far apart with his thick fingers, working his tongue deep into her pink flesh. She squealed and moaned, shuddering beneath his hungry mouth. Her toes curled, her hips arching into his mouth.

Gunnar loved to eat pussy. He loved to give a woman pleasure, savoring her gasps and moans as he fed on her succulent flesh. Every pussy was different. Some women had plump, tight vulva, their labia barely peaking out, and other women had fat, wrinkly lips you could suck into your mouth, with so many variations in between. Shaved, trimmed, or bushy. He didn’t care. From the virginal appearance of a shaved pussy, to the excitement of silky pubic hairs brushing his lips, he enjoyed every one.

But not Corrigan’s.

She tasted wonderful. Her flesh was hot. Her thighs pressed against his face as she bucked and moaned against his hungry lips. He sent his tongue probing her depths, his nose nuzzling against her hard clit.

But all he could think about was driving his cock into her depths. He liked to give a woman at least one orgasm before fucking her, but the emptiness inside him needed to be filled. And he wouldn’t fill that pain by eating out her pussy.

Gunnar rose, crawling up her body.

“No! Don’t stop!” she hissed, her hands clasping his shoulder, trying to push him back down her body. “Make me cum, Gunnar!”

“No,” he growled. “You can cum on my cock! I need to be in you.”

She struggled to push him down, but he was strong. His hands shoved her thighs farther apart as he settled between them. Corrigan moaned her frustration, but then reached down and seized his cock, stroking him and guiding him to her pussy.

“You always were so stubborn,” Corrigan muttered as his cock nudged the lips of her pussy. Gunnar groaned, savoring her silky feel, and then drove into her.

Hot, tight flesh engulfed him. Bliss radiated out from his cock. Gunnar reveled in her wet silk, the despair in his heart banished by the pleasure. He sank deeper, going so slow, savoring every inch as he penetrated her.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she panted, her thighs wrapping about him. “You’ll be worth all the effort to tame you.”

Gunnar didn’t care what she said. His right hand seized her heavy breast. He squeezed it, thumbing her nipple. She shuddered beneath him, bucking up into his thrusts. Her lips nibbled at his chin and cheek, trying to find his lips.

He turned his head, raising his body up with his arms. He drove his cock deep into her pussy, his strokes growing harder and harder. She gasped beneath him, her fingernails raking down his broad chest as her golden eyes shone with passion.

“Take my cock,” he grunted. “Take it, whore!”

“Whore!” Corrigan laughed. “Umm, you’ll pay for that.”

Gunnar didn’t care, her fingernails biting harder into his flesh. He drew back, slamming his cock in deep. “You love it, whore. I’ve seen you strutting around school. You’re just like Mindy and…” He couldn’t say her name. “You’re a slut. You’ve just been aching for my cock.”

“Oh, I have,” she moaned, undulating beneath him. “It’s wonderful. Keep fucking me, stud. Keep pounding me. Oh, yes! You’re big dick is going to make me explode.”

“Good.” The bed creaked, the headboard thumping into the wall. “I love it when a whore cums on my cock.”

Corrigan’s eyes squeezed shut. A naughty squeal escaped her lips, her pussy writhing about his shaft. Gunnar savored her orgasm. Her pussy tightened and relaxed, intensifying the ache at the tip of his cock.

His balls tightened as they hammered into her.

“Cum in me!” she hissed, her fingernails biting even harder into his chest. The pain flared, compelling his hips to hammer her pussy harder.

“Yes!” he roared, burying his cock to the hilt in her depths.

Gunnar shuddered as his balls boiled.

His cum erupted from his cock. Great pulses of pleasure rocketed through him. He grunted with each one, throwing back his head. For a moment, everything faded but the wonderful bliss of his orgasm. He clutched to it, never wanting to lose it.

But he did lose it and the pain returned.

Gunnar collapsed on top of Corrigan.

“Umm, that was wonderful,” she purred in his ear. “I love you, Gunnar. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

But I love Maeve…

How can I love a demon?

Maeve’s red hair flying behind her, her gossamer wings beating gold, her sob of despair.

Gunnar rolled onto his back.

What am I going to do? Maeve is dangerous. She tried to kill us.

“You did the right thing,” Corrigan purred, leaning against him, nuzzling at his ear. “You saved me. You’re a hero. I always knew it. It’s why I fell in love with you. You’re amazing.”

Gunnar turned his head. He wanted to believe her words. He wanted to replace his destructive love for Maeve with something else. Just for tonight. He pulled Corrigan closer. The small amount of love she offered was better than the alternative.

He kissed her lips.

Maeve’s red hair, her gossamer wings, and her cry of despair filled his mind. Gunnar only tasted bitter cold on Corrigan’s lips.

~ ~ ~

Frustration filled Corrigan as her magic was rebuffed. Gunnar’s love for Maeve was in shambles, his defenses crumbling, but he still clutched to that one true memory of the Pixie he had glimpsed as she had fled last night.

So stubborn.

Corrigan continued plying him with lies. “I love you so much, Gunnar,” she purred, mouthing the empty the words as she nuzzled against him, sliding her hand down his stomach. Humans confused love and sex so easily. “You saved me. You’re my hero. Let me thank you.”

Her hand found his cock, stroking his girth. He was a powerful lover. Corrigan had savored every moment of their rutting. She only wished he had kept eating her pussy. His will was too strong. She needed to slowly break him. Maeve had polluted every fiber of his being.

Dominating the Mortal Champion was proving harder than Corrigan had imagined.

But I have all the time in the world. The little Pixie is crushed. She lost. She won’t have the fight to face me again. She’ll fade into nothingness as despair bleeds the life out of her.

Corrigan kissed down his rippling abs to his hardening cock. He had spent a lot of time around Maeve, and the Pixie had been subtly increasing his stamina to keep up with her appetites. Corrigan doubted Maeve even realized she had done it. Corrigan licked her lips before tonguing the crown of Gunnar’s cock.

Gunnar groaned as she savored her flavor on his dick.

“That’s it, whore,” he growled.

Whore! I’ll make him howl for every time he insults me.

But she let the name pass for now. He was still too strong.

Corrigan sucked his cock into her mouth, plying him with her talents. His groan was satisfying. Bit by bit, his love for Maeve was chipped away. His affection for Corrigan would grow. She would first bind him with his love before she bound with pain.

~ ~ ~

Mary stepped into the hospital room. Magda looked so frail and helpless, a tube down her throat, her eyes closed. The metal lung whooshed, Magda’s chest rose, and then there was a hissing exhale. Another machine beeped, showing the steady rhythm of her heart.

Mary moved to the bed, grasping the younger woman’s hand. The last two weeks had been magical. Ever since she laid eyes on Magda, the math professor had found herself consumed with love for the sexy, Hispanic coed. It just felt right, like they had known each other for years instead of days.

“I’m here for you,” Mary whispered, kissing Magda’s golden-brown fingers, careful not to disturb the IV plunged into her arm.

The door opened. A doctor walked in to the room.

“Oh, hello,” Doctor Zee said, her face weary. “And you are?”

“Her girlfriend,” Mary answered, tears beading in her green eyes. “What’s wrong with her, Doctor?”

“We’re not sure,” Doctor Zee answered. “We’re running tests. I can tell you that she’s stable, but she’s non-responsive.”

“What does that mean?”

“She’s in a deep coma. There’s barely any brain activity. We think she can breath on her own, but we don’t want to take chances just yet.” The Doctor glanced at her charts. “We’re running every test we can think of. The only injuries we found were minor lacerations from broken glass. None hit any vein or artery and were only superficial. Perhaps there was a toxin on the glass.”

“She inhaled something.” Mary shuddered as she remembered the foul, gray monster that had burst through the wall and grabbed her love. It had done something to Magda, smothering her with smoke. And then Maeve had turned into the most beautiful sight, growing these gossamer wings and fought the monster.

Maeve’s a fairy. No wonder the woman seemed so mystical and strange at times.

“Is there anything you can do for her, Doctor?”

Doctor Zee shook her head. “Right now, all we can do is keep her comfortable while we run the test. She may recover on her own. Or…”

The tears fell down Mary’s cheek. I need Maeve. She’s a pixie or fairy or whatever. She’ll know how to save Magda. Mary grabbed her purse, pulling out her cell phone.

“You can’t use that in the ICU,” Doctor Zee admonished.

Mary frowned, glancing at her lover, chewing on her lip. “I’ll be right back, sweetie.”

She kissed Magda on the cheek and then left the ICU. When she reached the waiting area, she called Maeve.

“Hello?” a quiet voice answered.

“Maeve?” Mary asked, her heart beating faster. “It’s Professor Sommer.”

“No. It’s Raven.” She was one of Magda and Maeve’s sorority sister. “Maeve…she hasn’t come back yet.”

“We need to find her,” Mary gasped.

“W-what is she, Professor Sommer?” Raven’s voice quivered. “What happened tonight?”

“I don’t know. But we need her. She’ll be able to save Magda.” Mary clutched to that thought.

Bound to the Fey is available for $2.99 at Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE, and for Kindle Unlimited subscribers, you can borrow Bound to the Fey for free!

And if you missed The Pixie’s Passion (Book One of the Mortal Champion), you can pick it up from Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE.

Winter’s Kiss (Book Two of the Mortal Champion) is available to buy or borrow from Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE.

The Fires of Passion is available to buy or borrow from Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE, and for Kindle Unlimited subscribers, you can borrow The Fires of Passion for free!

You can also check out my other supernatural thrillers: The Girls of My Dreams (My Fallen Angel 1), The Devil’s Pact Part 1: Slaves of Love, or browse my catalog of naughty stories on Amazon!

Sample

Sneak Preview of ‘The Fires of Passion (Book Three of the Mortal Champion)

April 9, 2015 admin Leave a comment

Hi Everyone,

I’m hard at work on part three of my supernatural series, The Mortal Champion. When Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness threatens the Balance between Summer and Winter, a champion is selected. A single Mortal gifted with the power to settle the conflict between the Summer and Winter courts of the Fey.

At a small university, the fates of the Mortal and Fey worlds falls. The Mortal Champion will be a supernatural, erotic romance full of hot, kinky sex and thrilling action.

You can pick up The Fires of Passion for $2.99 on Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE, and for Kindle Unlimited subscribers, you can borrow The Fires of Passion for free!

Here’s a sneak peak at book 3!

The Fires of Passion (Book Three of the Mortal Champion)

Chapter One: A Healing Touch

The storms had finally abated. The rains had stopped slamming into the window of Maeve’s hospital room. The Pixie smiled as gaps of blue were visible in the sky, slowly drifting closer and closer. The rains had hammered the hospital the entire time she had been here.

It was Saturday morning. Nearly two days had passed since she had been stabbed by Corrigan’s familiar. Thursday evening, the Lean Sidhe had baited a trap for the Pixie. While Gunnar went to study with Corrigan and Evan, Maeve had been lured to Brad’s apartment. Felicity, Brad’s girlfriend and Maeve’s friend, had called the Pixie in a panic.

The Pixie had been worried about Gunnar, not realizing the Lean Sidhe would attack her. Fey rarely liked such direct confrontation. Corrigan had changed the contest. No longer was she content to seduce Gunnar away from Maeve.

I drove her to this, the Pixie realized.

When Maeve had arrived to help her friends, she found a berserk, enchanted Brad beating Felicity to death with a bat. With Maeve’s magic, and the aid of a few rose bushes, the Pixie had banished Corrigan’s geas from the lovers minds, mending their relationship. But when Maeve left, she had been confronted by three men wielding cold iron daggers.

Nothing was deadlier to a Fey than pure, cold iron.

One had stabbed Maeve with a dagger as she scrambled out of the staircase, the poisonous metal infecting her blood. Maeve had to hobble away. She managed to make it to the university’s Green and contact Gunnar, which had been so difficult thanks to one of Corrigan’s illusions befuddling him. Maeve had sought shelter in the rose bushes where she had first made love to Gunnar. Maeve had killed one familiar by controlling the rose bushes, and Professor Webster had stunned the last one with a taser.

And I need to get out of this hospital. I’m so vulnerable.

Gunnar shifted on the nearby chair, sleeping softly. He hadn’t left her side since she had been stabbed. Maeve was touched by his devotion. He didn’t want her hurt again. But Gunnar had no idea what had really happened.

And Maeve had no idea how to tell him.

Gunnar didn’t believe in magic. He’s so skeptical and stubborn. Useful traits for a warrior, but so inconvenient. Maeve had no idea how to tell the man she loved that she was a Pixie sent by the Titania, Queen of Light and Fire, to find him and show Gunnar his real destiny. Gunnar was the Mortal Champion. He could possess the Balance of the Seasons, an artifact that had been stolen centuries ago by Cinniuint—an unaligned Fey of fates and weaving.

Winter moved against Summer, and the Balance had chosen Gunnar as its wielder. With his power and the Balance, Titania would be able to triumph over Winter and its foul ruler, Mab Queen of Air and Darkness. Corrigan had been sent by Mab to enslave Gunnar and force him to serve Winter. But so long as Gunnar loved Maeve, he was armored against Corrigan’s domination.

So Corrigan had sought to kill Maeve. The only way the Lean Sidhe could win was to weaken Gunnar’s love. With Maeve dead, their bond of love would fade as Gunnar grieved her. So Maeve needed to get better and get out of the hospital. She had to protect herself and Gunnar from Corrigan.

Maeve sat up, wincing at the pain in her side. Her power had managed to defeat the cold iron that had flooded her body when the knife nicked her. But the wound remained. She needed to heal herself.

“Gunnar,” she whispered, her voice still sore.

“Maeve,” he said, sitting up, then he smiled. “You’re up.”

“Yeah,” the Pixie smiled, leaning back against the pillow. “I’ve slept over a day and I still feel tired.”

Gunnar chuckled. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Roses.” Maeve was a Rose Pixie, born from a bush that bloomed in Titania’s Garden back in Faerie. She had an affinity for the plant. “To brighten the room.”

“I bet the gift shop will have them,” he smiled, standing up and looming over her.

He was such a strong man, possessing a warrior’s build. His Scandinavian blood shone in his rugged face, framed by long, sandy-blond hair. In a past life, Gunnar would have been a viking warrior. He leaned down, his multicolored eyes—one blue, the other brown—peered into her green depths. His hand brushed a lock of her fiery hair off her forehead and then he kissed her there.

“I love you, Maeve.”

The Pixie’s heart fluttered. She could feel his love. As a Rose Pixie, she was invested in romance, and she was so thrilled to finally find it herself. “I love you, too, Gunnar,” she smiled. “But I think you can kiss me better than that.”

He smiled, his finger trailing down her temple to her cheek and then to her lips. She kissed his finger. He leaned down, his blond hair brushing her cheek as he kissed her on the lips. It was only a brief kiss; he seemed ginger, not wanting to stress her out.

That wasn’t good enough for the Pixie.

She grabbed his head as he tried to straighten up and pulled him down for a proper kiss. She worked her lips, her eyes closing as she savored the feel of his lips on hers. He moaned as he kissed her back. She savored the feel of his stubble on her cheeks, his fine, blond whiskers thicker than she had ever experienced.

“Umm, that’s better,” she purred when he broke the kiss, a flush of heat rolling through her. She squirmed, pressing her thighs together, and then winced at the pain flaring in her side.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Gunnar. Now go get me my roses.”

“I will. Are you hungry? Do you want me to tell the nurses to get you food?”

“I just need the roses.”

Gunnar strode from the room, his feet booming as he raced down the hall. Maeve smiled as her warrior ventured on a quest for her. Maeve turned her head, gazing back out the window of Tacoma General Hospital. The blue patches in the cloudy sky drifted nearer.

“What are you up to next, Corrigan?” Maeve wondered, trying to think. What devilish plot would the Lean Sidhe cook up next. Her familiars were either dead or captured. She vaguely remembered Gunnar telling her that sometime yesterday when she had regained consciousness for a few moments.

Maeve wasn’t sure how many familiars Corrigan could possess in her pack. Was three her limit? But one was dead. The Lean Sidhe could find another, and she might even be able to work her magic to free the two captured familiars.

She’ll try to kill me again. I need to react faster. I need to be ready to transform into my true form in the blink of an eye. If I had done that on Thursday, I could have flown away and not been hurt at all.

And most of all, I can’t let myself be suckered into a trap like that.

But the Lean Sidhe would never use the same trap twice. The Unseelie Fey was crafty. She would attack Maeve from an unexpected way. Something subtle and indirect. And Maeve had no idea what tricks Corrigan would try next. The Pixie had never been trained to fight other Fey or the servants of Winter.

But I’ve beaten her twice. I can do so again and again.

The door opened. A sweet scent drifted in with Gunnar. He had a bouquet of a dozen red roses. Maeve smiled, breathing their scent in deep. Already the ache in her side diminished, her power drawing in the rose essence to heal her wound.

But it wasn’t enough. She’d need more than just rose essence. She would need love. Gunnar’s love and devotion.

“Umm, those smell wonderful,” Maeve purred as he set the bouquet next to her hospital bed. She reached out, touching a blossom with her finger, more of the pain diminishing. “Roses always make me feel so amorous.”

Gunnar gave a snort of laughter. “Well, you need your rest. I know, you’ve gone over a day without making love to anyone.”

“I need to correct that,” Maeve giggled, kicking off the blankets.

“Umm, Maeve, calm down. Your side was cut open. Don’t thrash like that, you’ll tear your stitches open.”

“It’s fine. I’m feeling hot. Those blankets were too much.” Her hands crept down to the bottom of the hospital gown. She grasped the hem and pulled it up her legs. Gunnar’s eyes fell on her thigh as she slowly exposed her flesh. Maeve loved the interest burning in his face.

Then he shook his head. “Wait, Maeve, what are you doing?”

“I’m so hot,” she smiled, pulling her hospital gown up until it was around her waist, exposing the plain panties she wore. “Right? Don’t you think I’m hot?”

“Well, you are definitely hot,” Gunnar agreed. “But—”

“If I’m hot, then I need to get comfortable.” The Pixie opened the front of her hospital gown, pulling the blue cloth aside to expose her breasts and the small, plastic disks that hooked her up to the annoying, beeping monitor. Her nipples were hard, and she rubbed one, circling the pink nub with her slim fingers.

“Maeve,” Gunnar groaned. “You need to stop?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re sick.”

“I’m feeling so much better.” She rubbed her nipple again, shuddering and moaning in delight. “Don’t I look so much better?” She ripped off the sensors, tossing them to the side. The machine beeped in annoyance, so loud, hurting the Pixie’s ears. She reached over and turned it off. “I’m feeling so wonderful right now.” She pressed her thighs together, her clit tingling in delight.

“Maeve…you need to control yourself.”

“Why?” Maeve’s eyes slid down to his crotch, admiring the bulge in his jeans. “You seem to be enjoying the sight. Why don’t you help me out, Gunnar? I need to cum so bad. And no one makes me cum harder than you.”

Gunnar’s objections faded as she peeled down her panties, exposing her shaved pussy damp with her excitement. She threw the panties to the floor, spreading her legs wide. Gunnar licked his lips as her fingers spread her labia open, exposing her pink depths.

“You are the best, Gunnar. No one eats my pussy better than you.” She shuddered, her finger brushing her clit. “Please, Gunnar, I need it so bad. I’m so horny and hot. Please help me out.” Please help to heal my wound by loving me. I need to get out of this hospital.

Gunnar licked his lips, glancing at the door. His eyes burned with lust. “Fine, Maeve. But if your side starts hurting…”

“You’ll only make me feel better,” the Pixie promised. “Please, Gunnar.” She stroked her clit. “Give me your love.”

Gunnar stood up and crawled atop her hospital bed. She scooted up to give him some room as he knelt between her thighs. His strong hands grabbed her knees, sliding up. She shuddered as he neared the fire between her thighs. Her excited aroma filled the air, mixing with the perfume of the roses.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this in a hospital,” Gunnar smiled. “You’re always convincing me to do such kinky things.”

“Just eat me,” Maeve moaned. “Share your passion with me.”

Gunnar stroked her pussy with his thumb, brushing her clit. She shuddered, her hips bucking. Her side ached, but she didn’t care. She knew what her body needed—passionate, hot, sultry sex. Human medicine would never heal her. She needed the magic of love.

Gunnar’s tongue licked through her slit, slowly, not his usual, aggressive cunnilingus. He was still afraid of hurting her. But she didn’t mind. His tongue felt wonderful as it dragged through her lips, lingering on every fold before it brushed Maeve’s clit.

Her hips arched as she moaned, “Gunnar, that’s it. Umm, you know what I need.”

Gunnar’s eyes flashed up at her as his tongue swirled about her bud again. He leaned in, sucking on her clit for a moment. Maeve gasped in delight as the bliss shuddered through her. His tongue slid back down, nuzzling at her pussy hole.

Then he worked in deep, groaning as he feasted on her pussy. The pleasure radiated out from between her, full of Gunnar’s passion for her. The Pixie’s wound healed as her magic swelled. She squirmed on the hospital bed, reaching down to grasp Gunnar’s blond hair as she humped.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she panted, her body responding quickly, drinking in the sensations.

The door to the room opened. A nurse walked halfway in then blinked. “Oh, my,” she gasped, her eyes widening.

“Yes?” Maeve moaned, keeping a firm grip on Gunnar’s head as he tried to rise. She locked her legs about his head, not letting him move. She needed him to keep licking. Her wound was healing fast thanks to his wonderful tongue sending tingles of pleasure through her body.

“Um…I…um…” the nurse stammered, her eyes locked on the bed.

“You can stay and watch,” Maeve purred. “Or do you want to join in?”

“Well, I’ll…um…leave you to…um…” The nurse’s face was red as she backed up of the room.

Maeve groaned in disappointment, enjoying the blushing woman’s eyes on her. The passion swelled faster. Maeve wondered if the nurse would fetch a doctor. More people to watch us sport. How exciting.

“Keep licking me, Gunnar,” Maeve panted. “Oh, keep licking. You’re making me feel so wonderful! You’re healing me with your love.”

Gunnar slurped and nuzzled. His fingers spread her labia open, his mouth digging in deep as he devoured her. Gunnar loved to eat pussy. He loved to give a woman as much pleasure as he could with lips and fingers.

“Yes!” Maeve gasped as her first orgasm shuddered through her.

Her stomach contracted, her breasts jiggling as she shot upright. There was no pain in her side. The wound was completely healed. She let her body writhe and shudder, the pleasure of his lips whipping through her and sending her body into ecstatic delights.

And Gunnar kept feasting on her. He was a generous lover. Her orgasm kept rolling through her, new waves of delight to please her. The Pixie shuddered again, her thighs holding his head tight as her hands went to her breasts, pinching her pink nipples.

“You’re so amazing, Gunnar! Ooh, I love you so much. You stud! Oh, yes! Eat my pussy! Keep making me cum!”

Gunnar listened, eager to keep pleasing her.

But her Mortal Champion needed his satisfaction as well. It wasn’t fair to deny him from his pleasure.

She relaxed her thighs, spreading them wide open as he feasted on her. “Fuck me, Gunnar.”

“When I’m ready,” he answered, his fingers sliding through her pussy. He shoved one deep into her pussy. “I’m still enjoying my fun.”

“Oooh, spend as long as you want,” the Pixie purred. “I am not complaining.”

Gunnar licked his lips covered in her juices. The finger from his other hand slid down lower, disappearing between the cheeks of her ass. The Pixie smiled broadly as her lover teased her backdoor before shoving his finger in deep.

“Yes,” she moaned as he fingered both holes. “Ooh, Gunnar, you know what I love.”

“And I bet you’d love to have your clit sucked on.”

Maeve nodded her head eagerly as Gunnar lowered his face. He latched onto her clit, sucking hard. Another wild surge of pleasure shot through her. Her pussy and asshole clenched down on his probing fingers as she was assaulted by the waves of bliss.

Maeve tossed her head, closing her eyes and letting her lover pleasure her. She shuddered and gasped, then moaned when his fingers ripped out of her holes. But she felt so empty. She needed to be filled. Maeve opened her eyes and smiled as Gunnar unbuttoned his jeans.

Maeve needed to be filled by his thick cock. “Umm, give it to me!”

Gunnar grinned, stretching out over her as he guided his thick cock to her eager pussy. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in tight. Gunnar groaned as he sank into her depths, his lips crushing against hers.

Maeve moaned into his kiss, savoring her flavor and the passion of his love. The bed rocked and creaked as he made love to her, thrusting his cock in deep. She shuddered, savoring every moment of his cock plunging in and out of her.

“Yes,” she gasped when he broke the kiss, her fingers scratching at his back through his shirt. “Oh, Gunnar, yes! Keep doing that. I love it.”

Gunnar groaned. “You’re so hot, Maeve. So beautiful. I just can’t resist.”

“Don’t. Never resist your desires. We were made to love each other. Enjoy yourself. I love you so much, Gunnar. I want you to be so happy.”

“Maeve,” Gunnar moaned, thrusting harder.

She gasped, her clit smashed against his pubic bone as he slammed in deep. He drew back and plunged in again. Her pussy clenched down, gripping his cock in her hot depths. She loved it when he was on top of her, their bodies joined as one.

“Gunnar!” she panted. “Oh, yes, Gunnar! I love this!”

Her hips bucked up into his thrusts. Her pussy spasmed. Maeve gasped, her teeth clenching as another orgasm shuddered through her body. Her body writhed beneath Gunnar as he made love to her faster and harder. Her climax reached a peak beneath him, her body tense, and then she relaxed and enjoyed his plunging cock.

“I love it when you cum,” Gunnar growled. “You’re so wild and passionate. You make me feel so loved.”

“Oh, I love you, Gunnar. I love every part of you.”

The door opened.

“Oh, wow,” a woman giggled. “Maeve, you naughty slut.”

Magda and Professor Sommer quickly popped into the room. Professor Sommer’s face was as red as her hair, her green eyes twinkling behind her glasses. Magda had a big smile on her golden-brown face, the lesbian licking her lips.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking with that wound,” Magda said, shaking her head.

“But it feels so good!” Maeve gasped.

“Yes!” groaned Gunnar. “So good.”

His thrusts grew harder, slamming into her as his face twisted in passion. She stared into his multicolored eyes as his orgasm burst inside him. Heat flooded her pussy. Gunnar grunted, burying his cock into her depth as he spilled inside her.

“Yes, Gunnar, yes,” the Pixie purred, holding him tight.

“You stud,” laughed Magda.

“Hi, Magda,” Gunnar groaned, looking at the two women. “And Professor Sommer.”

“Gunnar,” the teacher nodded. “I, um, brought the homework from my lesson you missed yesterday.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Oh, don’t be awkward,” Maeve pouted. “Love making is so natural, right, Magda.”

The Latina woman nodded her head. “Yep.”

Magda was the first person Maeve had met when she crossed over from Faerie. Maeve had arrived naked and, needing clothes, she had snuck into Magda’s room. The lesbian had thought Maeve was a pledge—Magda was the Pledge Mistress for the Kappa Alpha Xi sorority—sent to her room for Magda to enjoy. Maeve used her magic to convince Magda it was true.

And the pair had been lovers ever since that passionate morning.

Gunnar didn’t mind. Maeve had taught him the fun of open relationships. She loved Magda, but not nearly as much as she loved Gunnar. Since Maeve was a Rose Pixie, she sensed Magda had a soul mate. The Pixie had been thrilled to discover it was Professor Sommer. On Thursday, right before she had been stabbed, the Pixie had witnessed Professor Sommer and Magda’s love blossom.

It took only a little nudge from the Pixie.

And Maeve was happy to see the pair holding hands, their love shining bright to the Pixie’s eyes.

“Um, should we go and leave you two alone?” Professor Sommer asked. “We’ll just leave your flowers and…”

“Oh, no,” Maeve said. “Come here and kiss me, Magda. I missed you, too.”

“Now that you’ve gotten off with Gunnar,” Magda giggled, “are you ready for seconds?”

“Aren’t I always?” Maeve giggled back. She glanced at Gunnar, staring into his eyes.

He rolled off of her, shaking his head, and slumping into the chair. “I don’t know how you have such stamina after being asleep for nearly two days.”

“I’m well rested,” the Pixie grinned, pulling Magda to her.

And if you missed The Pixie’s Passion (Book One of the Mortal Champion), you can pick it up from Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE.

Winter’s Kiss (Book Two of the Mortal Champion) is available to buy or borrow from Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE.

You can also check out my other supernatural thrillers: The Girls of My Dreams (My Fallen Angel 1), The Devil’s Pact Part 1: Slaves of Love, or browse my catalog of naughty stories on Amazon!

Sample

Sneak Preview of Winter’s Kiss (Book Two of the Mortal Champion)

March 11, 2015 admin Leave a comment

Hi Everyone,

I’m hard at work on part two of my supernatural series, The Mortal Champion. When Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness threatens the Balance between Summer and Winter, a champion is selected. A single Mortal gifted with the power to settle the conflict between the Summer and Winter courts of the Fey.

At a small university, the fates of the Mortal and Fey worlds falls. The Mortal Champion will be a supernatural, erotic romance full of hot, kinky sex and thrilling action.

Winter’s Kiss has been released! You can buy or borrow this hot tale from Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE.

Here’s a sneak peak at book 2!

Winter’s Kiss (Book Two of the Mortal Champion)

Corrigan strode through the Lumberjack, the music thudding through her, the bass primal and pounding, the music wild, stirring her inhibitions. Men and women drank and lusted. Energy swirled through the room, filthy and powerful.

The Lean Sidhe loved it.

She strutted, wiggling in her tight, black skirt, her lacy, red bra covering her breasts, easily visible through her black, mesh top. Her nipples hardened and her pussy itched, a line of juices trickling down her thigh.

Men watched her strut. Her golden eyes searched them as she prowled for her prey. She squeezed her thighs together, loving the ache in her clit. She quivered, a small orgasm shooting through her as she drank in the dark, lusty energy of the bar.

And then she saw her prey.

Tim and Richard sat at a table, a half-filled pitcher of beer before them. Tim had a girl on his lap, her blonde hair in pigtails, their lips locked together in a passionate kiss. Corrigan smiled. She barely recognized Felicity. A week ago, Felicity had loved her boyfriend with all her heart. Corrigan’s kiss had placed a geas on the woman, and now Felicity’s desires burned out of control.

Corrigan read Felicity’s aura, delight purring through the Fey. Felicity’s new, twisted personality had already shattered her boyfriend’s heart with her sudden plunge into uninhibited sex. Corrigan shuddered at the fruits of her work.

Felicity hopped off Tim’s lap, pulling the brawny footballer to his feet. He still wore his letterman jacket, letting all the women here know that he was a king warrior. Richard laughed, a woman lounged across his own lap, her ivory hand almost glowing against his ebony face.

Corrigan sauntered after Tim and Felicity, the new-made slut leading the Lean Sidhe’s prey into the alley behind the bar. Corrigan waited a few heartbeats before stepping out. She smiled at the sight she witnessed.

Felicity was already on her knees, Tim’s hands gripping her pigtails. She unzipped him with an eager need, pulling out his cock and sucking it into her mouth. Tim groaned, leaning back as he savored Felicity’s enthusiastic blowjob.

The girl sucked and slurped, her head bobbing. Tim fucked his hips forward, slamming his cock deep into the slut’s mouth. Corrigan licked her lips as she strode forward. With a simple swirl of her magic, her bra vanished, her nipples poking hard through the mesh of her top.

Winter’s bite was in the air. The Autumn equinox had passed. Mab’s power waxed as Titania’s waned.

As the Pixie’s waned.

“You like to watch, bitch?” Tim groaned, eyeing Corrigan’s exposed breasts. “You want a turn sucking my big cock.”

Corrigan’s smile grew as she sauntered forward. “Do you want that girl sucking your cock when you could have a woman?”

Tim grunted. “She’s doing a great job.”

“Only great,” Corrigan laughed. “I would melt your bones and freeze your veins. You would die a happy man if I sucked your cock.”

“Fuck, who are you?”

“Your mistress.”

Tim laughed, throwing back his head. “You’re a fucked-up bitch. I don’t take orders from some skank with her tits hanging out.”

Corrigan reached out, touched the geas that twisted Felicity into a complete slut, and broke her spell. Felicity’s reaction was spectacular. She threw herself from Tim, spitting out his cock in disgust. Tim gripped one of her pigtails, pulling her back.

“Did I say to stop sucking,” he growled, yanking her back.

Felicity screamed and jerked her hair out of his hand, pushing past Corrigan as she sobbed in horror. The Lean Sidhe smiled. Guilt and shame crushed Felicity. She would remember every man she fucked and sucked, how she soiled her love as she defiled her body.

Corrigan savored Felicity’s despair, her pussy itching fiercer as she stopped before the panting Tim. Corrigan wished she could witness Felicity’s deluded attempts to patch up her love with Brad. She had shattered her boyfriend’s heart.

And once her love is completely dead, she’ll remember how much her body craved sex. Soon, she’ll be a slut all on her own, trying to bury her pain in sex and any other vice she can.

“Well, I guess your up, bitch,” Tim said, seizing Corrigan’s violet hair. “Time to suck my cock.”

“Why would I suck your cock?” she purred. “You’re my slave.”

“What did you say, cunt?”

“Fall to your knees,” she hissed, tired of his insolence, “and worship my pussy.”

“Fuck you!” He tried to yank her down to her knees. His muscles strained as he pulled on her hair. Corrigan reached out with a single finger, gathering frost at the tip of her long nail, and stroked his cheek. His screams of pain rang through the alley as he tasted Winter’s kiss.

The strong man fell to his knees, clutching the frost riming his cheek. His cock deflated, becoming a small, pathetic thing dangling between his legs. She reached out with her booted foot and crushed his dick.

“Please!” he groaned as she rubbed her foot back and forth. “Oh, god, please stop!”

“When you worship my pussy, I’ll stop,” Corrigan laughed. “Be a good slave and submit to your Mistress.”

“Fuck you!” he groaned, balling up his fist to swing.

She shoved down hard with her boot. Agony filled his face. She shuddered in delight, another cum shivering through her body, tingling her nipples. Her hips shifted, her excitement dripping down her thighs and freezing to the tops of her leather boots.

The temperature plunged in the alley. His breath frosted as he screamed. Ice crept over a puddle and frost rimed a brown dumpster. Tim shivered and writhed in agony. She seized his sandy-blond hair, pulling his face to her skirt.

“Eat my pussy and all the pain goes away,” Corrigan purred. “Everything goes away except for my pleasure. You’ll be my happy slave. My hound. You won’t have a care in the world.”

“Please,” he blubbered, his tears freezing to his cheeks. “I’ll do it. Just stop! Please!”

“Then do it, hound. Pleasure your Mistress.”

“Yes…” he groaned, leaning in. “I will…Mistress.”

Corrigan shuddered at his words.

The worm’s face buried between her thighs, his strong chin nudge the lips of her pussy. He groaned as his tongue flicked out and tasted her pussy. A shuddering moan escaped his lips as his weak mind was overcome by the taste of her passion. The Lean Sidhe shifted her hips, her golden eyes fluttering as the mortal’s tongue flicked through her pussy.

“You can do better, worm,” she purred. “Worship your Mistress. Imbibe my passion. Become my slave fully!”

Corrigan’s will poured into him. Bit by bit he surrendered to her desires. She pulled on his sandy-blond hair, guiding his lips. His mouth was unskilled. He didn’t seem to know what to do to give her true pleasure.

“Lick, slave!” she hissed, a whip of ice coalescing out of the rime frosting the alley, swirling through the air. She snapped it on his back, ripping through his letterman jacket and leaving an icy bruise down his back.

“Mistress!” he screamed, her pussy drinking in his pain.

“Lick! Tongue me! Make me cum, slave!”

Corrigan cracked her whip, giving him another kiss of Winter. The muscles of his back appeared through the rents in his clothing, ice crystals gleaming on the wounds. Corrigan shuddered, bucking her hips.

He was so strong, and yet so weak. Eager to obey. The perfect hound.

The worm’s tongue grew more bold, sliding through her folds, his lips sucking. He was eager to please her, to worship her. His lips found her clit, sucking and biting her sensitive nub. She moaned, hissing her encouragement as her whip cracked.

“That’s it, worm!” she moaned. “Put that tongue to work.”

Crack!

Tim sobbed into her pussy.

“Such a good hound. You’ll do whatever I say, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he moaned.”

“You thought you were so tough. You thought you were a man, didn’t you?” she hissed. Gunnar was a man. What a magnificent creature he would be to break. He would never fold so quickly. Even without the Pixie’s protection, he would be difficult. He was a true man, a warrior that would wield the Balance for Winter.

Already her will dominated Tim. He was so close to being her familiar. Her magic worked into his mind, transforming him into her hound to course at her command. An image of the Pixie lying bleeding flashed through the Lean Sidhe’s mind. Her passion swelled, roaring through her.

“Drink every drop!” she moaned as her climax rippled through her. The temperature plummeted, frost beading on the tips of her breasts, painfully cold, adding another delight to her ecstasy. “Be my hound.”

He obeyed. His mouth drank down every drop, slurping with an eagerness to obey and please his Mistress. Her magic poured into him, seeping like the cold into every bit of his body. He shivered, his teeth chattering against her pussy, nibbling and triggering another cum to ripple and assault her mind.

“Yes! My hound!”

The change took him. His blonde hair retreated. He screamed in agony, falling to the ground, his limbs spasming. The Mortal’s skin melted away, leaving behind a skeleton of maple wood twisting his body into his new form—a hellhound.

His face elongated into a snarling snout. His body grew slim yet deadly. He howled with a snarling, low bay. Coal wrapped around the skeleton of wood, his new muscles, while a soot spread across him, forming his bony hide.

She stroked his muzzle, his coal-black tongue licking her hand. It was wonderful to have a hellhound again. At her whim, he could transform back into a man, but his will was gone. He was her hound. Everything he did would be at her order.

“What the fuck did you do to Tim?” growled a low, dangerous voice.

Corrigan turned and smiled. Richard had stridden out, cracking his knuckles, his Black skin darker than the frost-rimed alley. His dreadlocks swayed as he strode forward, murder in his eyes. The Lean Sidhe smiled.

“Hello, hound,” she purred and cracked her whip.

And if you missed The Pixie’s Passion (Book One of the Mortal Champion), you can pick it up from Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE. You can also check out my other supernatural thrillers: The Girls of My Dreams (My Fallen Angel 1), The Devil’s Pact Part 1: Slaves of Love, or browse my catalog of naughty stories on Amazon!

Sample

Sneak Preview of ‘The Pixie’s Passion’ Book One of ‘The Mortal Champion’

February 10, 2015 admin 1 Comment

Hi Everyone,

I’ve been working on my next supernatural series, The Mortal Champion. When Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness threatens the Balance between Summer and Winter, a champion is selected. A single Mortal gifted with the power to settle the conflict between the Summer and Winter courts of the Fey.

At a small university, the fates of the Mortal and Fey worlds falls. The Mortal Champion will be a supernatural, erotic romance full of hot, kinky sex and thrilling action.

Here’s a sneak peak at the prologue!

Prologue: Maeve of the Red Rose

Treasach’s melody haunted Titania’s Garden.

“He’s so wonderful,” sighed Maeve of the Red Rose as she lounged beneath the shade of a tall elder tree. A gentle breeze wafted through the air, stirring the elder tree’s branches. Small, white petals drifted down from the dark leafs, adding their sweet perfume to the air. “We could make such wonderful music together.”

Aisling of the Bluebells giggled beside her, the Pixie’s silvery wings twitching. “Treasach has all those Dryads fawning on him. What would he see in a little fluff like you?”

“You don’t have to be so mean,” Isolde of the Violet scolded, her bluish wings sticking straight behind her. “Just because her love is delusional, doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud.”

“Thanks for the support,” Maeve muttered to her friends. Then she turned her gaze back to the perfection of Treasach’s form. His chest was sculpted like a maiden’s wet dream, while his thick fingers nimbly played his linden pipe with such perfection even the vain Dryads had crept from their elder trees to fawn at his feet. “I could attract his attention.”

“With those Dryads flashing their blandishments at him,” Aisling laughed. “He wouldn’t even notice you flying around him.” Aisling fixed her deep green eyes of Maeve. “It’s because of your rose.”

“What does that mean?” huffed Maeve, ripping her green eyes from their study of Treasach to gaze at her friend. Maeve’s delicate, golden wings hummed behind her. “What does my rose have to do with this?”

“She’s blooming, right?” Aisling asked. “And that has your head filled with thoughts of love.”

Isolde nodded her head in agreement. “Just give it a few days, and you’ll have your heart set on some other handsome Fey. Perhaps one more at our station than a Gancanagth.” The violet-haired Pixie gave a giggle. “Even if he has those dreamy, brooding eyes.”

“You violets are almost as bad as roses,” sighed Aisling.

The timbre of Treasach’s pipes grew more lustful, stirring passion inside Maeve’s heart. Her wings fluttered faster, and she cast her gaze back upon Treasach. One of the cow-breasted Dryads had wrapped her mammaries around Treasach’s cock, pleasuring the handsome Fey as he played.

“I wish I could do that.” Maeve let out a mournful sigh, her hands sliding up to cup her small, freckled breasts topped with tiny, mauve nipples. “Dryads are so lucky.”

Isolde’s hand stroked up Maeve’s side, squeezing the Rose Pixie’s breast. The violet-haired Pixie rolled her nipple and whispered into Maeve’s ear, “More than a handful’s just a waste. Why don’t we find a nice bower and sport. That’ll take your mind off Treasach and his pipe.”

A tremble passed through Maeve, her pussy growing damp with excitement. Isolde was always fun to sport with, the Violet Pixie passionate and loving. But Maeve was entranced by Treasach’s pipes. “Look at that Dryad. She’s proving that more than a handful is not a waste. Listen to the passion in his music. He is enjoying the silky touch of her cow-heavy bosoms.”

“And you’ll enjoy my silky touch just as much,” Isolde promised. “Maybe we can even convince Aisling to join us. Doesn’t that sound like fun? We’ll make you forget all about those dumb Dryads and their big tits.”

Isolde’s fingers on her nipple did feel amazing, but Maeve was not convinced. There was such joy to experience at Treasach’s skilled hands. The Gancanagth were a race passionate lovers, and Treasach was whispered to be the most skilled. Maeve believed the rumors, dying to feel his touch.

Look at how skillfully he plays his linden pipe.

Aisling’s hand brushed Maeve’s thigh. “Yes. We’ll help you forget all about the dumb Gancanagth. Pixies need to remember where our station is. We do not cavort with the nobility.”

“We tend to Titania’s Garden,” purred Isolde. “And my flower is in need of your gardening.”

Treasach’s music built to a crescendo as Aisling and Isolde’s gentle hands stroked Maeve’s body. She bit her lip, mewling with delight. She leaned back against the tree, letting them caress and tease her. Aisling’s fingers brushed the lips of Maeve’s pussy hidden in her fiery-red curls.

The Dryad rubbed her breasts faster up and down Treasach’s cock, her tongue licking the thick tip. Maeve had never experienced a cock so big. Her pussy convulsed about Aisling’s probing digit. An orgasm swelled inside her.

“Yes,” she sighed, her wings fluttering. Maeve was attuned to the music, climbing with it to the crescendo’s peak.

Treasach trilled his linden pipes as his cock erupted. Cum fountained up, landing on the fat tits of the Dryad, staining her brown skin. Maeve’s pussy convulsed about Aisling’s finger, her head thrown back as her orgasm swept through her.

“That’s it,” purred Isolde. “Let yourself go.”

“Treasach!” she moaned, her heart beating faster. She wanted to love him so much.

“Rose Pixies,” sighed Aisling, pulling her finger out of Maeve’s pussy and licking the dew clean. “Hopeless.”

Maeve smiled, bliss pumping through her while she watched Treasach stand up, his muscular body was just perfect. Maeve imagined she was a mortal girl. Ganacanth’s loved to seduce maidens, playing their flutes and entrancing young women to spread their thighs so the Fey could sport between them.

“Pixie Maeve,” a honeyed voice announced.

“Hmm,” Maeve murmured, opening her eyes.

A Slyph hung before her in the shape of a comely woman made of vapor. Her body formed in blue, and her flowing hair painted with white. She had a curious expression on her face as she danced before Maeve.

“Are you Maeve of the Red Rose?” the Sylph asked.

“I am.” Maeve was curious why a Sylph was bothering her. They were flighty Fey, often zipping through the skies and playing on the winds. “And you are…?”

“I am Daire. And you are summoned to the Summer Throne. Titania demands to see you.”

“What did you do?” Aisling gasped, her dark-green eyes widening.

“Nothing,” Maeve protested, fear beating her heart. “Honest.”

Aisling had a disapproving look on her face. “Rose Pixies,” she despaired. “You are always getting in trouble.”

“But…” Maeve pouted. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Titania is waiting,” the Slyph declared, still zipping about Maeve. “Hurry, hurry.”

“You better go,” Isolde whispered, giving Maeve a hug. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Yes. Because our Queen summons Pixies to attend her all the time,” Aisling muttered.

Maeve trembled in Isolde’s arms. “Don’t listen to Aisling. Bluebells are sour flowers.”

Aisling sniffed with indignity.

“Now go. We’ll await your return.” Isolde placed a soft, sisterly kiss on Maeve’s lips.

Maeve nodded, flapping her wings. They hummed as she lifted into the air. “Lead on, Slyph,” Maeve whispered, trying not to tremble.

“Yes, yes! Follow!”

With a giggle, the Slyph zipped off.

Maeve sped with her, flying over Titania’s Garden. It almost seemed to stretch forever. Fields of endless flowers attended by the Pixies. Maeve’s kind all lived in the Garden, their souls tied to a single flower. Here their flowers were protected from being plucked. So long as her flower bloomed, Maeve lived. To repay the Queen for her kindness, the Pixies swore to be her gardeners.

It was happy life. Full of laughing and giggling and loving. Sweet and naughty games were played in the Garden. Maeve soared over Fey of all kind lounging, reading, playing music, and making sport. Beautiful bodies entwined together, crying out in passion amid the beauty of the flowers. The Gardens were the heart of the Seelie Court, the most beautiful and loving part of Fey.

Ahead, a grove of elder trees rose. They were the biggest in all of Fey. Their bark had grown dark-gray with age. White flowers budded in the limbs, speckling the green. The Slyph and Maeve dived for the opening between the Elder trees. Maeve landed on soft heather as Daire danced about her, laughing and playing.

Maeve swallowed as she stored through the gate into the Summer Court. The Elder trees seemed to loom over her, the canopy of green leaves and white flowers pressed down, and her shoulders hunched, almost crushed beneath their ancient weight. The Pixie’s wings trembled and twitched as she fought against her fear.

What did I possibly do wrong? Why would Titania want to see me? I’m just a Rose Pixie. There are hundreds of us.

She stepped into the sunlit glade of Titania’s Court. The sun was always directly overhead of the Court, shining with warm rays. A path of gold wound through the heather fields to Titania’s distant throne.

Maeve swallowed, forcing herself to walk down the path. Powerful Fey lounged across the field. Some sat about boards playing games of strategy while others played instruments of gold. Mortal men and women, their bodies naked and oiled, stood about the field, living statues for the Fey to admire their perfect beauty. All the Fey were just as gorgeous. A myriad rainbow of eyes, hair, and skin tones populated the Court. Everyone was beautiful and unique.

Maeve was too scared to appreciate any of the beauty that surrounded her. The Pixie’s eyes fixed on the throne of Hawthorne at the end of the path. Titania sat upon it, shining with her own radiance.

Titania was a voluptuous beauty. There was not a flaw marring the Queen’s perfection. She wore a gown of wildflowers, a rainbow pageantry that draped her curvy body like a second skin. Her vibrant, green eyes fixed on Maeve’s as she crossed the Court. The Queen sat upon a throne grown out of a hawthorn tree, smooth brown fissured with gray cracks. Branches adorned with white flowers grew from parts of the throne. Naked, oiled men lounged at the base of the throne, their eyes sightless. Titania’s mortal lovers. Each was fortunate to know the Queen of Fire and Light’s passionate, blinding embrace.

A second throne lay beside Titania’s, grown from an oak tree. A whip-thin man lounged on it, wild, dark-green hair falling about his shoulders. Maeve found his piercing stare even more intimidating than the Queen’s. All quailed before Oberon, Master of the Wild Hunt. Titania’s Consort. A Feyhound, laying at Oberon’s feet, stirred as she neared, ivory vines wrapped around its hawthorn body.

Maeve stopped before the throne and fell prostrate. “Summoned, so have I appeared, Mother of Summer.” Maeve trembled, her wings humming with agitation.

“Rise, gentle Maeve,” Titania purred. Her voice was a pure song caressing Maeve’s ears. There was no anger in that sweet melody, only love.

Maeve’s fear vanished, and she rose, facing her Queen. “I stand ready to serve Summer.”

“Good,” Titania nodded. “For I have an important task to lay upon your slim shoulders.”

Maeve swallowed, trembling again. What task could I preform for Titania?

“Mab seeks to wield the Balance, disrupting the equilibrium between Summer and Winter.”

The Pixie’s eyes widened and she let out a gasp of fear. Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness, was the vile ruler of the Unseelie Court, the Fey of Winter. They were all cruel and heartless. Since creation, Summer and Winter had warred, but their power was equal, forcing them to be in balance.

“How?” Maeve asked.

“Mab prepares for war.”

Maeve gasped in alarm.

“So the Balance has chosen a Mortal Champion,” Titania announced. “The Unseelie will try to bind him into slavery. We cannot allow that to happen. He must remain free to wield the Balance in our favor. If he remains free, he will the arbiter and stop Mab’s plan.”

“I don’t understand what you need from me, Your Majesty?”

“You shall be his consort,” Titania smiled. “You shall go to the Mortal World, discover his identity, and seduce him to our cause. Make him love you, and he will aide us against Winter with a willing heart. With your love, he can be armored against Winter’s poisonous chains.”

Maeve’s heart beat. She had so wanted to experience true love. So many times her heart had blossomed and so many times she had been spurned. Then the enormity of her task fell upon her. “But I’m only a Pixie, Your Majesty? How will I find him? How will I contend with Winter’s Emissary? Surely Mab will send a strong servant to seek him.”

“You will succeed with my blessing,” Titania smiled, leaning back in her throne and parting her sleek thighs. Her skirt parted, forming an inviting shadow. A sweet perfume filled Maeve’s nose, and a hot surge of lust flowed through the Pixie. “Drink of my essence and you shall be armed and armored for this great task. When you lie with the Mortal Champion, you shall know him fully. I just know your open, loving nature will beguile him and win his affections. Together, you shall overcome Mab’s servant.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Maeve licked her lips, her heart pattering with excitement. Disbelief pumped through her body. The great Queen is honoring me. I’m not worthy to even be in her presence.

With a swallow, the Pixie walked forward. A pure scent, as clean as summer, wafted into her nose, tinged with feminine excitement. Titania’s pussy wept excitement. Maeve stepped past the blind, brawny men. As perfect as their muscles were sculpted and their face shaped, they were mere lop-sided daises flowering next to the perfect rose that was Titania.

Maeve placed a hesitant hand on the Queen’s thigh. She was warm, her skin almost hummed with the Power of Summer. Maeve slid her hand in deeper, pushing back Titania’s flower skirt. The Queen let out a slight sigh as she unveiled her pussy, tight lips nestled between burning curls.

“Drink of my passion, Pixie,” Titania moaned. “Satisfy my desire with those beautiful lips.”

The Queen’s finger caressed Maeve’s lips. Her pink tongue crept out, swiping about the digit before sucking it into her mouth. She moaned as the Queen slid her finger out a few time. She worshiped the digit like it was a cock, her tongue swirling, her cheeks hallowing as she sucked.

“Put that ardor to use on my nethers, Pixie,” purred the Queen. Her breasts heaved, pressing against the petals of her dress. Pink nipples peaked through gaps between the flowers, hard and fat, perfect to suckle.

Maeve lower her lips to her Queen’s pussy. Her tongue snaked through the Queen’s lips, gathering the fresh juices that leaked out. Titania tasted like a cool pool in a forest glade, the water pure, untouched by anything but the sun’s warm caresses. Titania shifted, moaning as Maeve’s tongue grew more bold, sliding through the folds of her pussy.

“That’s it, Pixie,” hissed the Queen. “Give me your worship! Oh, yes!”

Maeve’s wings twitched as she drank deeper. The juices poured down her chin, coating her neck and breasts. A flood of passion issued from Titania. Power brimmed in the juices. Maeve bathed in the essence of her Queen, rubbing her face all over the silk of Titania’s lips.

Maeve never wanted to stop drinking. She moaned, eager to find more cream. Her tongue worked deep as her fingers spread Titania open wide. Her tongue wiggled, swirling about the Queen’s tight, pink flesh.

Then she moved her lips up and sucked on Titania’s clit.

“That’s it, Pixie! Yes! You will make me cum so hard. Pleasure me, slut!”

Yes, my Queen! I am your slut!

Maeve wanted to cry out her love for her Queen, but her lips were occupied. The Pixie sensed Titania’s orgasm approaching. Maeve wanted to send Titania into bliss. Her tongue swirled about the Fey Queen’s nub, batting it as her lips sucked and her teeth nibbled. Energy brimmed around Maeve, growing in Titania’s core.

“Yes! Drink my Power! Imbibe every last drop, Pixie! Revel in my passion!”

Juices squirted into Maeve’s eager mouth. She swallowed it, a warmth spreading through her body. A bit of Summer’s Power infused every nerve in the Pixie’s petite body. Her wings hummed as they beat, and the Pixie’s pussy convulsed as she came.

“Yes, yes, yes,” sighed Titania. “Umm, you did such a good job.”

“Thank you, my Queen,” Maeve smiled, licking her lips. Her body still buzzed with her orgasm.

Titania leaned down and placed a single, brief kiss on Maeve’s lips. “You are our emissary to the Mortals. Find the Champion and claim his heart. Together, you shall claim the Balance for Summer. Do not let Winter bind the Champion’s will.”

“But…how will we find the Balance?”

Centuries ago, Cinniuint had stolen the Balance from Fey. Cinniuint was a Fey aligned with neither Winter or Summer. She was a weaver of fates, and whatever future she had glimpsed had compelled her to act. No trace of the crafty Cinniuint or the Balance had been discovered as Fey of both Courts quested over the centuries. Worse, the Balance could look like anything. It was mutable, shaped by the will of its wielder.

“Have faith, dear Pixie,” Titania smiled. “You have the strength to do this.”

“I won’t fail you,” Maeve gasped.

“I know you won’t.” Titania’s smile was perfect and trusting. Maeve swelled. Her Queen believed in her.

I can do this.

“Leave at once, dear Pixie, and stop Winter from seizing the Balance and destroying the equilibrium.”

Maeve rose and walked out of the Court, excitement brimming through her. Her imagination was on fire. Who was the Mortal Champion? Would he be handsome? She hoped he would be. He would her husband.

Treasach was almost forgotten as new, romantic thoughts blossomed in the Pixie’s fertile imagination.

~ ~ ~

Titania watched the Pixie depart, Maeve’s golden wings twitching with excitement.

Oberon’s piercing eyes were upon her. Titania sensed the questions brimming in her Consort. For Millennia, ever since Titania had won the bitter contest with Mab for his devotion and tamed Oberon’s heart, he had walked at her side, trusting her to rule the Seelie Fey.

So he didn’t voice his concerns in front of the entire Court.

“Court is adjourned for the day,” she announced, holding out her left hand.

Oberon’s strong grip took hers. He helped her to rise, his body as solid as an oak. She wrapped her arm lightly about his, striding to the side entrance that led to her bower. They walked through a forest glade, song birds singing above, pollen drifting on the air bringing the sweet fragrance of their flowers. Sprites and brownies danced and sported, their tiny forms scampering through the trees.

Her Consort arm was tense.

They walked the dirt path in silence, her bare feet savoring the cool loam. Excitement beat in Titania’s heart. She wanted to sing and dance and frolic in the glade. But it was too soon for that. Maeve was merely the first step in her plan.

The path ended at a wall of silvery-barked elder trees grown so close together they formed an impenetrable wall. A door made of hanging vines pierced the elder trees guarded by Mathghamhain, her most loyal guard. He was a homunculus grown from an oak tree and shaped into a squat man. Acorn eyes peered at her, and his gnarled fist stroked a beard of broad, green leaves.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed. “Prince-Consort.”

“None shall disturb us,” she commanded. “I wish to enjoy the companionship of my Consort for the nonce.”

“As you command, my Queen,” Mathghamhain bowed, his body creaking. He pushed open the flowering vines and Titania and her Consort entered her bower.

The starry sky twinkled above them. It was always night in the intimacy of her bower. At the center, her bed grown from four hawthorn trees entwined together, the mattress a field of soft heather. She stretched out on her bed, her dress of wild flowers falling to pieces off her lush body.

Oberon’s gaze flickered to her. She smiled; lust still burned in his eyes. Millennium later, and she still owned his heart. “Join me,” she purred, her pussy growing liquid.

“Why did you choose Maeve for this task?” he growled, his voice rasping like dry leaves. His eyes grew hard. Titania didn’t flinch before the Master of the Wild Hunt’s gaze. She was the only being in existence he loved.

The only being that felt no fear from his gaze.

“She is perfect for the task,” Titania answered.

“How? She is flighty like every other Pixie. She possesses no cunning, no strength. She has never been to the Mortal world. She cannot contend against the strength of Winter’s Emissary. Mab will not send such a useless creature.”

Titania stared at her husband.

“She will fail and the Mortal Champion will be bound to Winter.”

“I know,” Titania answered with a smile.

If you want to read more, you can buy or borrow The Pixie’s Passion from Amazon, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, Amazon AU, Amazon FR, and Amazon DE. You can check out my other supernatural thrillers: The Girls of My Dreams (My Fallen Angel 1), The Devil’s Pact Part 1: Slaves of Love, or browse my catalog of naughty stories on Amazon!

Sample

Sample of ‘My Fallen Angel Part 1: The Girls of My Dreams’

August 31, 2014 admin 10 Comments

Bill is a dreamer. He spends all his times dreaming about all the women he desires: Cynthia, Rochelle, Juanita, and Hikaru.

When Bill witnesses his dreams coming to life as a Succuba dominates Cynthia and transforms her from a good, Christian girl into a nymphomaniac, Bill vows to find out what’s going on. With the submissive Rochelle’s help, he attempts to unravel what’s going on. But Daevia the Succuba is going to stand idly by and let Bill ruin all her plans.

My Fallen Angel is a supernatural erotic thriller full of hot sex and exciting action. Join Bill and his women as they battle the supernatural and defend their college campus from Daevia’s predations.

Chapter One:

Juanita sat on her bed in her college dorm, sobbing onto the mussed sheets. She was alone, her roommate, Rochelle, had already left for classes. As had the man Juanita had sinned with last night. And again this morning. The proof was staining her thighs, forming a wet spot on her bed, and her pussy still ached from the vigor of their morning tryst.

Once again, she had given into her lusts. She was supposed to be better than this. She dreamed of being a preacher, attending Parkland Lutheran University to study theology. But what preacher gives into her lusts? And with a man she had only met the night before? How can I tend to a flock, if I can’t even control my own passions?

“Why am I so weak?” she prayed, looking up to the heavens. “Why can’t I resist sinning?”

Light blossomed. A man appeared before her, blue-white wings extended, his body burnished bronze. Juanita gasped; he was so handsome, a perfect specimen. Her eyes traveled his naked, muscular frame and widened at the size of his cock dangling from a thatch of golden hair. Desire burned between her thighs for this being.

He was an Angel sent from Heaven to answer her prayers.

“You are weak because you have yet to find the man your heart yearns for.”

“Who are you?” Juanita gasped, pulling the sheets up to hide her nakedness, new shame flushing through her.

“I am the Archangel Uriel, and I have a task for you.”

“What?” she eagerly asked, ecstasy gleaming in her eyes and joy bursting in her chest. I have been chosen. My faith is rewarded.

“I need your oath of obedience.”

“I swear I’ll obey you, Uriel,” she gasped without hesitation. An Angel asked her, how could she say no? He was a Heavenly being and whatever he asked would only be for the greater good.

“No matter what I ask of you?”

Her heart thudded and her answer came without hesitation: “I do, Uriel. I’ll obey you without question or hesitation!”

Something settled about her neck, clinking like metal, a great weight almost strangling her as it tightened about her throat. She reached for it, trying to feel what bound her neck, but there was nothing about her—her fingers found only her smooth skin. And then the weight vanished.

“Good,” he smiled. He held out his hand, light coalescing, shaping into a silver dagger. “Keep this safe until it’s needed.”

“I will,” she breathed. “What is my task?”

The Angel’s smile was perfect. “To save the world.”

~~ ~~~~~ ~~

Bill dreamed…

It was one of the few things he was good at. Ever since he had discovered there was a difference between men and women, those wonderful, feminine creatures had filled his dreams. Some would make brief, guest appearances, while others would show up time and time again.

Two of his favorites filled his dreams today. One was demure Cynthia, his beautiful co-worker whom Bill had had the biggest crush on since he had met her, stared up at him, her blue eyes shining with desire. A vivacious strawberry-blonde woman knelt next to Cynthia, pressing against the shy girl’s body, and reaching out to stroke his cock.

Pleasure burned through him as the redhead stroked him, her grip firm and skillful.

A third woman pressed her body against his back, her breast soft pillows topped with hard nipples. Her arms wrapped around him as she nuzzled his neck. Her bronze hands stood out against his white, flat stomach as she caressed him with fire.

“Suck his cock,” purred the redhead, holding it up to Cynthia’s lips.

Bill didn’t know the redhead’s name, but he had seen her around his college campus more than a few times since his Freshman year. He had always loved how she dressed in tight, low-riding jeans that showed off her thongs, and low-cut halter tops that left little of her lovely tits to the imagination. She was a frequent guest in his dreams, showing up as often as Cynthia, Juanita from his Religious Iconography class last semester, and the cute, Japanese coed that volunteered at the university’s library.

“You’ll love it, Cynthia.” The redhead’s hand slid slowly up Bill’s cock, drawing out a single drop of clear precum; he shuddered as she thumbed his tip.

“I shouldn’t,” Cynthia whispered. Even in Bill’s dream, she was a good girl, but since this was where his perverted subconsciousness ruled, his desires shaped Cynthia to be the woman he wanted—slutty. Her tongue licked out, swiping across his cock’s tip; more shudders swept through him.

“See, it’s not so bad.” The redhead licked at Cynthia’s neck, while her hands played with the sweet woman’s small breasts, little apples topped with dusky nipples. “Just open wide, and suck his cock. Let your slut out. I know you want to.”

A flush rolled across Cynthia’s tan face. She played lacrosse, and her face and forearms had a nice tan that slowly faded back to her pale, white complexion. “I shouldn’t. It’s so sinful.”

The redhead grasped a lock of Cynthia’s blonde hair—a lighter shade than Bill’s sandy blond hair—straight and lovely, and pulled the coed’s lips right to his hard, throbbing cock. The tip brushed her lips, and she opened wide. “That’s good, Mistress,” whispered the redhead. “Suck it, Master’ll like that.”

Bill groaned, savoring Cynthia’s sucking mouth—she felt like wet heaven and pleasure roared through him. The redhead leaned under her, and sucked his balls into her lips. The mysterious woman with the bronze skin tightened her grip about his body. He could feel her round breasts pressing against his back and heard a swishing noise, like the flap of wings. Her lips brushed his neck, cool against his burning flesh, kissing up to his ear.

“You want them both, don’t you,” she whispered.

“Yeah, I guess,” Bill muttered.

He never had the courage to approach the redhead in real life. She was too confident and beautiful. What would she see in a loser like me? Bill was lean, not broad-shouldered like the jocks, his body more compact like a runner’s, and his hair was always a mess. Bill had nothing to offer to the gorgeous redhead. And Cynthia, well, she had turned him down more times then Bill could count.

“They’ll be yours one day,” cooed the mysterious woman, her lips brushing his ear. Her voice wasn’t familiar, and had a ringing, bell-like quality to it. “Just have faith.” He turned his head to look over his shoulder and their lips met; she tasted like the sweetest honey. “You’ll have both of them one day, and those other two you’re always dreaming after.”

“Umm, I can see why you chose him,” purred a sultry voice.

A fourth woman had joined Bill’s dream, as curvy as any centerfold model. Her skin was pale, and made her deep, red hair, almost the color of blood, stood out like a neon sign at night. Her breasts were amazing, large, round, perky, a silver chain piercing both her nipples, dangling down between her breasts. She was dressed like some sort of dominatrix: leather bustier that cupped those magnificent mounds, a black garter belt holding up thigh-high fishnets, stiletto heels, and elbow-length, leather gloves. For a moment, black wings flapped behind her.

The bronze woman’s arms tightened around Bill, wings flapping and a gentle breeze buffeted Bill, ruffling his mused, sandy-blonde hair. “He’s mine, Succuba. I have already claimed him.”

The dominatrix laughed, as deadly as a cougar. Her vulpine mouth twisted into a hungry smile. “Have him. He’s too soiled for me. The lust that brims in his mind…” Her hand lashed out, grabbing a fistful of Cynthia’s hair, and yanked the girl off Bill’s cock. “She’s more my style. Pure and innocent, don’t you think, Seraph?”

“Bill!” Cynthia shrieked, the dominatrix hauling her back. “Bill! Bill! Bill!”

“Bill! Wake up, Bill!”

Someone was prodding Bill’s arm.

“Bill!” A finger jabbed his arm hard. He groaned.

“Cynthia,” he muttered, opening his eyes. Cynthia was staring down at him, an exasperated look on her beautiful face.

“Wake up!” she hissed.

Frustration filled him as he came fully awake. Damn, I was looking forward to watching the dominatrix force Cynthia to pleasure her. He sighed. Why did my dreams always have to end at the good parts?

“Ms. Katsaros is back,” the blonde whispered. “Get up before you get in trouble again.”

He smiled up at Cynthia. “You’re the best. Let me thank you.”

She raised an eyebrow, asking, “Would that be dinner and a movie?”

“Sure. We’ll have fun.”

A faint tinge of red colored her cheeks. “I know what ‘fun’ means, Bill. I’m not that type of gal.”

He stood up, dusting off his pants. He was in the back room of the University Bookstore, and was using a small pile of textbooks as an impromptu, if uncomfortable, pillow. It was right next to the heating vent, and the warmth helped to zonk him out. He was supposed to be sorting the new shipment, but why should he do all that work when he could have a nice, perverted dream instead?

“You make it sound so dirty,” he protested. “I promise to be a complete gentleman.”

“Just like you were a complete gentleman with Tammy?” Her eyebrows arched and her voice had a frosty tone.

He coughed; he had had a nice romp with Tammy, a former employee, in the backroom almost two months ago and Cynthia would never let it drop. “Geez, it was just some fun. She kissed me first, anyways.”

“And that’s why I won’t date you,” she declared. “You’re too worldly, Bill.”

“I’ll come to church with you.”

She hesitated, frowning at him. “You’d still pressure me. I’m saving myself, you know that. It would just end badly.”

“You don’t know that. I could wait, for you.” It was a lie. He figured if he could just get his foot in the door, he could pry her fingers off her virginity. She was a great gal, sweet, kind, patient, and warm. Being pretty was just a bonus. “I fell for you the moment I saw you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. You fell heads over heels in love with me right into Tammy’s embrace, huh?”

Irritation flashed through him. “If you won’t date me, then you can’t act like a jealous girlfriend, Cynthia.”

“Sorry,” she flushed.

He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Come on, give me a chance. Be my girlfriend for real. Then you can get as jealous as you want.”

“I told you, it’ll end badly.” She squeezed his hand back and warmth rolled through him. “You’re a great guy, but you’re just too worldly for me. I need a guy more my experience level.”

“You mean, none?”

She nodded.

“I’m not that experienced.”

“But you wish you were.” Her eyebrows arched. “You’re a pervert. You may be a great guy, but let’s be honest, Bill. I’m looking for a guy that’s…normal.”

“That guy doesn’t exist. We’re all perverts. I’m just honest about it.”

“I have faith my guy is out there.”

Have faith… A chill ran through him—déjà vu.

“I could change for you.”

Her smile was sad. “You can only change for yourself, Bill.”

“I mean it, Cynthia.” Probably. “You’re the one for me. I dream about you all the time.”

Her eyes flashed down and he was acutely aware of his hard-on tenting his jeans. “Yes. I think I know just the sort of dreams you’ve been having about me.”

“I can’t help it if I have dreams like that. You can’t control your dreams, Cynthia.”

She chewed on her lower lip, then opened her mouth, then snapped it and shook her head. “Listen, my shifts done. I have lacrosse practice. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Later,” he muttered, letting go of her hand and watching her blonde tresses disappear into the store.

Why does life have to be so complicated? Why can’t it be like my dreams? Bill knew she had a crush on him, though he didn’t understand how she could love a scruffy loser like him. But he could see her feelings in her eyes, and the way she always looked out for him. She was just scared; too wrapped up in her bible-belt upbringing to take a chance and have a little fun, and who knows, it could always lead to something more.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“What was that?” a woman barked.

He jumped, turning to see Ms. Katsaros glaring at him, hands on her hips. She was a tall, Greek woman, with glossy-black hair that fell in a wonderful curtain about her olive face. She wore a lavender pantsuit and flowery blouse that fit her perfectly, hugging her curves. Bill wanted to get down on his knees and worship her. She had a made a few appearances in his dreams. Not as often as the main four, but she put her time in.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

She eyed him, then looked at the boxes. “I want the shipment unpacked before your shift’s done, Bill.”

“Yes, Ms. Katsaros,” he nodded, flinching beneath her flinty stare.

“I don’t know why I put up with your laziness,” she continued. “I don’t pay you to sleep in my storeroom.”

“I wasn’t—”

Her glare was fierce and he flinched before it. “You get your butt moving, buster, and unpack my shipment, or you can find yourself another job! Get yourself together, Bill. How do you expect to get a real job once you graduate from college with this kind of attitude?”

“I—”

“Employers want a hard worker, not some lazy ass with, what, a History degree?”

“Art History.”

She snorted. “Even more useless. It’s why Cynthia won’t date you. She can tell you’re not worth the effort. The girl may think the moon of you, but she’s smart enough not to throw her future away.”

“Hey, that’s—”

“Women want a man, not a spineless slacker hiding in a storeroom. They want someone that takes their responsibilities seriously. You’re a sweet guy, but that’s not enough in the real world. Take the world by the balls and make something of yourself.” Her dark eyes bored into his. “And you can start by unpacking my shipment!”

She strode off, her ass writhing wonderfully beneath her tight pants. He wanted to seize her and just press her against the wall and show her what a real man was like. Of course, he didn’t have the balls. She’d just freak out and have him arrested for sexual assault or something.

Bill had always been a coward, too afraid to even ask a woman out beside Cynthia, and she was safe—she wouldn’t say yes. Even his fling with Tammy had all been her doing. He had never quite understood what had happened; he had been napping in the storeroom, as usual, dreaming one of his perverted dreams—he couldn’t remember about whom, though he thought Tammy and Juanita may have been involved—when she had woken him up with a kiss, her lithe body writhing atop him.

Afterward, she had been embarrassed about the entire incident and quit her job. “I just had a dissociative moment,” she had said. “Something came over me. Just forget about, okay. It was my mistake.”

Bill was pretty sure it was his fault and she was just letting him down to spare his feelings. That had been his first time with a woman, and he clearly didn’t satisfy her. He had tried a few times to have a repeat performance with Tammy, but that had earned him a slap in the face and a talk with campus security about boundaries.

His mind drifted back to his dreams, and he fantasized about the dominatrix forcing cute Cynthia down to her knees. Her black, leather-gloved hand clenched a fistful of Cynthia’s golden hair and pulled the struggling coed’s lips right to her pussy. The dominatrix’s red eyes squeezed shut, a purr issuing from her throat as Cynthia pleasured her.

Something about the fantasy didn’t sit well with Bill. It felt wrong. Lesdom was a favorite fetish of his, and he would be lying if he had never spanked it to Cynthia, or one of the other girls in his dreams, being dominated by another woman. But there was something so off about that dominatrix—inhuman.

His fantasy continued, the redhead’s mouth was sucking his cock, and the mysterious, bronzed-skin woman clutched him tight from behind, her lips sucking at his earlobe as she whispered sadly, “She’ll turn Cynthia into a slut,” the mysterious woman whispered. “If you don’t stop her, she’ll transform Cynthia into a wanton woman hungry for any cunt or cock her cute, little lips can taste.”

“What?” Bill gasped, the redhead’s mouth sliding up and down his cock, so warm and wet.

The dominatrix moaned, her breasts heaving as Cynthia worked her mouth on her pussy, filling the air with a wet, obscene noise. Cynthia seemed to love the dominatrix’s pussy, moaning as she worshiped the woman’s cunt, her face buried as deep into the dominatrix’s flesh as possible. It was so close to his fantasy, and yet it disturbed him.

“You need to make Cynthia yours before the Succuba claims her.”

“She doesn’t want me.”

“Yes, she does. You have made her want you. Your dreams have shaped all four of those women, you just have to have the courage to make them yours fully. She’s scared, so you need to overcome her fear and show Cynthia how much you truly love her. Then she’ll be yours and safe from the Succuba.”

“She’ll only reject me again.”

“I believe in you, Bill.”

“Me, too,” added the redhead, jerking his cock while she looked up at him. “You have it in you to make all of us yours, Master.” Her mouth swallowed his cock again, sucking hard.

Bill groaned, his hips shifting, pressing his shaft deeper into her mouth as her hands played with his balls. He was moments away from cumming. His eyes flashed over to the dominatrix as she writhed on Cynthia’s lips. He couldn’t peel his gaze away from those large breasts, both nipples connected by pierced rings and a silver chain. He wanted to grab that chain and pull the dominatrix to him, force her to her knees, and shove his cock into—

“You better be finished!” barked Ms. Katsaros.

His eyes snapped opened. Even when I daydream, I never get to the good part! He looked down at the boxes; they were empty. After three years working at the University Bookstore, the unoriginal name Ms. Katsaros had come up with for her business, he knew the storeroom like the back of his hand, and this wasn’t the first time he had unpacked the boxes while lost in a daydream.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” she nodded in satisfaction. It was why he still had a job; no one else had ever figured out the chaos of her storeroom. “You can go home, Bill.”

“Sure,” he shrugged.

“I better not catch you sleeping back here again.”

He wanted to retort, “But you didn’t catch me.” Instead, he swallowed his words and muttered a “won’t happen again.”

“You’re a good, young man. You just need to get your life together. Then the women will be all over you.” She leaned in. “The bad boys are fun, but it’s the guy with his shit together, seizing life by the balls, and succeeding in his career, that women really want. It’s what Cynthia wants. She talks about saving herself for marriage, but she just hasn’t found the right guy yet. You could be that guy, and I bet she’d give it up to you.” His boss patted his cheek. “At the very least, you’ll have a more successful life.”

Her advice didn’t make him feel better. Why couldn’t he be the bad boy? Why did he have to be the one the chick settles for after she’s had her fun? Fuck that! I should shove Ms. Katsaros up against the wall, and—

I’d get arrested for assault.

He slumped out of the backroom, like a dog slinking off, his tail tucked between his legs.

But he didn’t slink home.

Cynthia’s lacrosse practice would just be finishing.

The September sun was warm as he stepped out onto Garfield Street. His college, Parkland Lutheran University, lay just a few blocks down the road. A picturesque collection of red-brick buildings amid the dirty, fading houses and business of Parkland, Washington, a suburb south of Tacoma. He jogged down the street, crossed two intersections—C Street and Park Avenue—and entered the campus. Students bustled about, and his eyes were drawn to all the cute coeds, many who were still wearing shorts and skirts, flashing beautiful thighs, and scanty tops showing off their delightful flesh.

Bill reached Gordon Gym, and hesitated. He wanted to go to the nearby field, where Cynthia was practicing, and listen to his dream’s advice and make her his girlfriend. He wanted to seize her by the shoulders, look into her eyes and say, “You’re my girl. I love you and I’m tired of taking no for an answer. I can see how much you love me, so just stop being afraid and lets give it a chance. I don’t want to have any regrets. Do you?”

And then she’ll just say no again.

His enthusiasm faded, gnawed away by fear. He slipped in to the gym through a side door, heading for the supply closet. Every free afternoon he was in here after Cynthia’s lacrosse practice. Last semester, he had a comparative sports class, an easy PE credit, and had discovered something amazing. Some pervert, a guy after Bill’s own heart, had drilled a few peepholes through the back wall of a supply closet into the women’s locker room. Now he couldn’t help himself. Every afternoon he was here, watching Cynthia and her teammates soaping their nubile bodies.

He felt like a creep.

But he wanted her so much, and if she wouldn’t date him, he couldn’t resist this outlet for his desires. He walked with purpose as he entered the gym, pulling out the key—he had been the TA for Coach Kalleberg during that PE class, and had the key made last semester after discovering the peepholes—and unlocked the supply closet. He moved through the dark room, not affording to turn the lights on and risk getting caught. It was cramped and impossible to see, so he went by feel, tripping over loose sports equipment and bumping into shelves.

At the back wall, he moved a piece of plywood leaning against the wall and three beams of light shone through, brilliant shafts in the darkness. They were spaced a few feet a part, giving a good view of the showers and some of the lockers. As long as it was dark in here, no one should be able to see the holes from the locker room. Bill figured that’s what the plywood was for.

Women laughed and talked. He bent down—whoever had drilled the holes was shorter than him—and unzipped his pants. Three coeds were stripping out of their lacrosse uniforms: maroon shorts and light-gray T-shirts. Rosa’s round pair of dusky breasts came into sight, topped with dark nipples. His cock hardened, his hand stroking it slowly.

Another pair of breasts, ebony and round, bounced into view as the gorgeous, African-American Reggie walked back to the shower. “I want to wash your tits,” he muttered as his hand pumped faster on his cock, picturing those chocolate breasts in his hand, squeezing them and sucking on her sweet nipples. “I’d get them so clean.”

More and more girls joined, bringing the total up to eight. A feast of youthful flesh, all gorgeous, with toned, athletic bodies. And so different. Large breasts, small breasts, some that were conical, and some that were heavy. Curvy asses, flat asses, shaved pussies, thick bushes, landing strips, and neatly trimmed triangles. A beautiful rainbow of feminine delights. His hand stroked faster.

Then Cynthia appeared. “Ugh, that took longer than I thought,” she said, peeling off her gray T-shirt. Her sports bra, not that she really needed one with her little tits, was black; she deftly unfastened it, her dusky nipples exposed to his gaze. He breathed faster, pounding his cock.

The other girls were drying off, getting dressed. “Did it? Sorry.” Cassie answered, shrugging into a loose, blue top, her dyed-green hair damp from her shower.

“It’s okay,” Cynthia answered, bending down to peel off her maroon sweat pants—she never wore the shorts, too immodest—and her panty-covered ass wiggled in Bill’s direction.

“Oh, Cynthia,” he groaned, his hand slapping against his groin as he jerked faster, his orgasm building. “I want to love you so bad! Look at that ass.” Her panties slipped down. It was a perfect rear, the cheeks nicely round, and he caught flashes of her golden curls between her thighs. “I’d worship your ass.”

“That’s nice of you,” a woman whispered behind him.

Fear spiked inside him. He was caught. I’m in so much trouble.

Sample

Sample for The Bride At the Shower (Seducing Straight Women 3)

July 21, 2014 admin Leave a comment

When Aurora is invited to a bridal shower, she thinks she’s in for a boring night—until she lays on the bride-to-be. Samantha is shy, cute, innocent, and beautiful, and Aurora’s in love. By the end of the night, Aurora plans on giving Samantha one amazing bridal gift—a night of passion with a lesbian. Contains explicit lesbian sex including a sexy strip tease and lap dance, tribbing, and cunnilingus.

Sample

It took another fifteen minutes of rush-hour traffic to reach the West End, the part of Tacoma that bordered the Narrows, the skinniest part of the Puget Sound. The bridal shower was being held at the bride-to-be’s tiny, brown house near Point Defiance just off Pearl Street. A group of cars already crowded her small driveway and the curb out front.

“We’re late,” huffed Ruth.

“Well, someone wanted to make a pit stop.”

She giggled wickedly, “And what a fun pit stop it was.”

The rain had let up to a mere drizzle, which I barely felt since my red hair was still a damp mess. Ruth gave a shriek like it was the monsoon rains that had soaked me. Baby. She raced around her car, popped open her trunk, and pulled out two presents covered in cream wrapping paper tied with lilac ribbons.

“I didn’t know I needed to bring a gift,” I groaned.

“You’ve never done a bridal shower before?”

“It’s like a bachelorette party, right?”

“Kinda. But without the male strippers, and you have to give gifts. You know, the shower part of the name.”

“Right, like a baby shower.” I felt like an idiot. “Well, now I’m going to look like an asshole.”

Ruth shoved one of the presents into my hands “Yours is a toaster. I know you’re hard on cash, so don’t worry about it. Only twenty bucks at Walmart.”

“Thanks!” I beamed. “You’re the best!”

“I know,” she sighed. “It’s a burden that all Jewish lesbians are forced to bear.”

“I thought that just made you good with money and woodworking.”

Ruth laughed and slapped my shoulder. “What’s an Irish lesbian good at?”

“Getting drunk,” I shouted, spreading my arms wide. “And woodworking. You know how much I love hardwood floors!”

“Dirty ho,” Ruth giggled. “C’mon, let’s get inside. I’m tired of getting soaked.”

“Ruth, it’s barely misting. You’d have to stand out here for an hour just to feel anything.”

“Fine. It’s cold. So stop stalling and let’s go have some fun.”

Nervous flutters went through me; I wasn’t going to know anyone here, and that was putting me a little on edge. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any uptight, religious women who had a hard-on against homosexuals.

Ruth rang the doorbell. I could hear laughs and giggles coming from inside. The front door opened and a bubbly brunette was there, champagne flute in one hand, and exclaimed, “Ruthie!” and caught my friend around the neck and pulled her in for a hug.

“Hey, Issy,” Ruth answered, struggling to free herself; it seemed a losing battle. “This is my friend, Aurora.”

“Right, your ‘friend’,” Issy snickered. “We don’t care that you’re gay, Ruthie. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” my friend answered, rolling her eyes.

“So, how long have you two been dating?”

“No, she’s really my friend,” Ruth grunted, finally wiggling out from her friend’s embrace, her bushy hair even more mussed. “I can have female friends, Issy! Seeing as I’m friends with you.”

“Right,” Issy nodded, then she threw that arm around me and pulled me to her, smashing my face against the crook of her neck. “Happy to meet you, Aurora.”

“The same,” I croaked.

“Let’s go say hi to everyone else, Issy,” Ruth said, prying her arm up so I could escape and catch my breath.

“Right, right,” Issy nodded. “Follow moi.”

I gave Ruth a look and she shrugged.

Issy led us into a crowded living room. There were three women crowded on the couch, each holding champagne flutes, another two squeezed into a love seat, two others sat on folding chairs, and a beautiful woman with a porcelain face framed by blonde hair and set with two sapphire eyes as deep blue as the sea, sat quietly on a recliner; a small, white veil perched on her head.

My heart stopped; I was in love.

She was so beautiful. I wanted her for my wife. I could just pop down on one knee and grab her hand, and propose to her right then and there. I bet it would brighten her day. Everyone else was having fun, laughing and shouting, but she sat quietly, a little uncomfortable about all the noise, like a frightened faun. If I could get her alone, I could make her beg to be my girl for the night.

She was definitely the submissive type.

“Everyone, Ruthie’s here!” Issy exclaimed. “And she brought a friend, Aurora. And no, Tonya, she’s not that sort of ‘friend’. Which is a shame since you two are so cute together.”

I actually blushed. “No. Just good friends,” I said.

“Stop being playing matchmaker, Issy” Ruth groused.

“I’ll get more chairs,” the bride-to-be said quietly, standing up.

“Nonsense,” Issy said, waving her back down. “It’s your night, let me go get them.” She paused. “Oh, before I go, Aurora, that’s Tonya, Britney, and Velma on the couch, Mindy and Georgina on the love seat, and that’s Zelda and Natty sitting on the chairs. Oh, and of course, Samantha’s our bride-to-be.”

Issy walked out; it was like the passing of a thunderstorm.

“Wow, she’s intense,” I breathed.

“I know,” Zelda, a Hispanic woman, sighed. “She kinda does what she wants, and you either get in line or get out of the way.”

“She put this entire thing together,” Britney added, adjusting her glasses.

The bride, Samantha, nodded.

“She’s the maid of honor because the rest of us were too scared to tell her no,” giggled stocky Velma, her face dusted with freckles.

“I heard that, Velma,” Issy said, walking in with a pair of folding chairs. “I’m the maid of honor because Samantha and I have known each other forever. Right?”

“Yes, Issy,” Samantha squeaked. I couldn’t wait to hear what she would sound like when my mouth was feasting on her treasures.

Issy planted me and Ruth in the chairs, mine next to the recliner Samantha sat in. She wore a long, dark skirt, her ankles and calves peaking out delectably. She had dainty feet. Champagne was poured and a flute shoved in my hand.

“Let’s get this party started,” Issy exclaimed.

“Yes, lets,” Mindy, a tall and curvy girl who was gorgeous, but I sensed a vapidness about her; she’d be too oblivious to my attempts at seduction.

“It’s time for charades!” cheered Issy.

I shot Ruth a glance and she just shrugged helplessly.

Issy divided us up into teams for charades. I was paired up Ruth, Samantha, Mindy, and a fourth woman whose name I kept forgetting. I had never played before, but it turned out to be a lot of fun watching Ruth try and mime what turned out to be ‘Shawshank Redemption’.

“Why did you say dildo?” Ruth wailed at me when the time ran up.

“Well, what else was I supposed to think?” I giggled, a little tipsy with champagne. “You kept making motions like you were working a dildo in and out of a woman.”

Samantha went crimson. “Y-you’ve done that, Ruthie?”

“Of course I have,” Ruth answered. “Aurora can tell you all about it.”

The bride’s eyes widened. “Are you gay, too?”

“Yep,” I smiled. “So what were you doing, Ruth?”

“I was stabbing someone,” she sighed, “with a shank.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay, I get that.”

Ruth narrowed her eyes at me.

Issy was up for her team, and they were like a well-oiled machine, guessing ‘The Grapes of Wrath’ with half the time remaining. A certain suspicion dawned on me—Issy had selected the teams, and she did seem like the ultra-competitive type.

I was up next, and I drew out the card and read, ‘I Kissed A Girl and I Liked It’. Well, at least I knew the song. Taking a deep breath, I stepped up and held up eight fingers, then I mouthed singing.

“It’s a song,” Ruth called out.

Now that I had the preliminaries out of the way—Book, Movie, Song—I could start miming out the rest of it. I wasn’t sure how. Well, I guess I should start at the beginning. I held up one finger.

“First word,” a dusky woman—Georgina, I think—called out.

I nodded, then pointed at myself.

“Woman!”

“Boobs!” I gave Ruth a look. “Tits?” I shook my head at her.

“Human!”

“Skin!”

Really? This was getting annoying. I tapped my chest.

“Heart?”

“Chest!”

“Ribs!”

“I?” a quiet voice asked.

I looked at Samantha, gave her the biggest smile I had, and nodded. She perked up a bit.

I held two fingers up. “Two!” Georgina—well, that’s what I’m calling her in my head—yelled. Then I puckered my lips.

“Kissing!” Ruth yelled. At least that one was easy.

Three fingers. “Third word!” Georgina again.

How was I going to get ‘a’ across? I tried making a pyramid with my fingers.

“Triangle!”

“Pyramid!”

“Diamond!” Really, how did Mindy get that? Was she really that much of an airhead?

“Illuminati!” Ruth giggled. “I kissed Illuminati?”

Fuck it! I held up four fingers; Georgina shouted, “Fourth Word!”

I pointed at myself.

“I!” Of course, now that’s their first guess.

I kept pointing at my chest.

“Chest.”

“Boobs!” Ruth laughed.

I pointed at my boobs, then at my crotch, and made a sort of circular motion around my entire form. “Woman?” Mindy asked. I snapped my finger, pointing excitedly at her.

“Female!”

“Girl!”

I nodded vigorously.

“I Kissed a Girl and I liked It?” Samantha asked, barely heard over the others ladies.

“Yes!” I exclaimed. And before the night is through, Samantha, you’ll learn just how much you like kissing girls.

Our team lost charades in the end. Not surprising.

“Wasn’t that fun,” Issy clapped as her team celebrated their victory. “Next up is a spicy version of truth or dare!”

What was this, a sleepover?

“I have two bowls, one full of truths you have to answer, the other full of dares you have to perform. I’ll go first and take a truth.” Issy fished into the bowl. “Let’s see. ‘Who was your first kiss?’ Ohh, Trevor Yates, behind the gym. He was dreamy…”

Some of the girls giggled.

“See it’s easy. Now I’ll pick…Tonya.”

The plain-faced woman froze. “Eh, truth.”

“Chicken,” giggled Issy as if she hadn’t chosen the same.

Issy proffered the bowl to Tonya, who blushed after reading the scrap of paper. “I can’t answer that.”

“Then it’s a dare,” Issy said, holding up the other bowl.

“Fine. ‘When did you last get laid?’ Well, uh, last week.”

“Weren’t you on vacation last week?”

“Yes,” she stiffly answered.

“And didn’t you and your husband take separate vacations?” Issy grinned slyly.

She nodded, flushing.

“Oh, you naughty woman. You have to dish,” Issy giggled.

“The slip didn’t say that,” Tonya huffed. “So I choose, uh, Zelda to be humiliated next.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Issy smiled. “So you had a little fun without your hubby. We won’t tell, right ladies?”

“Right!” chimed a few of them.

This was like High School all over again as some of the women were really getting into it and others, like Samantha, weren’t. The poor bride was burrowed in her chair, almost afraid she’d get chosen. I was really starting to hate Issy; couldn’t she see how uncomfortable she was making her friend? Whose party was this supposed to be for?

Zelda took the dare, and blushed when she realized that she had to flash her breasts out the window for thirty seconds. They were a nice pair, round and creamy-brown, topped with dark nipples. She stood at the window, her eyes squeezed shut while everyone in the room laughed and giggled, well, everyone except Samantha.

“Is it time?” Zelda demanded, her voice tight. She flinched; a car drove by, its headlights shining through the window.

“Not yet,” Issy said, staring at her watch. “Okay, time.”

Zelda yanked her bra and shirt back down. “Ruthie, how about you.”

“Yeah,” Tonya slurred, a glass of champagne in her hand. “Let’s watch you get humiliated.” Tonya downed her drink then poured another.

“I’ll take truth,” Ruth smiled. “I’m not afraid to confess.” She dug in the bowl, pulled out her slip, and laughed wickedly. “All right, ‘what’s the wildest sexual thing you’ve done.’ Hmm, let me see… There was this cheerleader in college, a real, stuck-up bitch. Well, she got drunk and wanted to experiment, so I fucked her with a beer bottle up the ass while I went down on her pussy.”

Half the women blushed, the other half laughed raucously—Issy was the loudest. I knew the Cheerleader, Veronica, but I hadn’t heard that story before. How very naughty. I wish I had tumbled Veronica into bed…unless I had? I searched my memory, but I had so many conquests in college it was hard to remember them all.

“I bet she didn’t walk normally for a week,” Britney giggled, pushing up her glasses.

“Nope. But she loved it. I dated her for half my Junior year before she went back to loving guys. Anyways, I choose Aurora.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. “I’ll take a dare. I’m not sure you ladies could handle my wildest sexual experience.” It involved three other women and a garden hose. Issy proffered the dare bowl. I fished around. ‘Choose someone to kiss for thirty seconds.’ I laughed, and held the card up. “Who wants to be the lucky lady.”

Tonya blushed, licking her lips, and Issy tittered nervously, explaining, “I didn’t think we’d have two lesbians here. Maybe you should redraw.”

“No!” Zelda laughed. “It’s just a harmless kiss. Don’t be such a prude, Issy!”

“I’m not a prude! Well, Aurora, who’s it gonna be.”

“Why I think this is the bride’s party, so she should get the kiss.”

Samantha’s blue eyes widened as I walked over to her chair, and her pale cheeks colored. “I’ve never…”

“Shh, I’ll be gentle,” I promised, sitting on her lap, and putting my arms around her neck. “Ready to time me?”

“Yep. Five, four, three, two, one.”

Samantha licked her lips as I leaned in and gently captured her mouth. She didn’t know what to do as Issy and Ruth led the girls in clapping and cheering. I ignored them and concentrated on making this the best, sweetest kiss she had ever experienced. I nibbled on her lower lip, and used my tongue to tease her, while my fingers gently caressed her cheeks. Her head tilted, her blue eyes closed, then she shyly kissed me back.

Heavenly.

Her lips worked against mine, and her tongue carefully, almost experimentally, pressed forward and flicked against my lips. I met it, caressing her tongue with mine. Then I pushed into her mouth, exploring her thoroughly as a heat flushed through my body, ending at the itch between my thighs. I wanted to kiss her—

“Time!” Issy shouted.

I didn’t want to stop; my heart soared. She was the one. I had to have her.

“Time!”

Sighing, I pulled away, Samantha a flushed mess, and giggled, “Sorry, I just love kissing a pretty girl.”

“I bet you do,” Zelda snickered.

“Let’s see, how about Samantha,” I smiled, getting off her lap.

“I…okay,” she whispered, her chest still heaving.

“I think someone liked it,” giggled Velma.

“She’s a very good kisser,” Samantha answered as Issy held up the two bowls to her. She reached into the truth bowl and fished out a piece of paper. She blushed, holding up the slip, and laughed. “Yeah, I’ve kissed a woman. Just a minute ago.”

Released 8-4-14, Preorder at Smashwords for $2.99

Sample

Sample for ‘My Test-Drive Lover’ by Reed James

June 2, 2014 admin 3 Comments

Here’s a sample of my upcoming erotica, ‘My Test-Drive Lover’. Aurora is back, and looking to sweep another straight women off her feet. At that opportunity arrives in the stunningly gorgeous Ashley, wife of a newly-rich software engineer. Her husband’s looking to buy a new toy, an expensive Ferrari, and she just wants to find someway to relieve the boredom. Aurora has the perfect idea, and takes Ashley on a test drive she’ll never forget! Contains explicit, and very steamy, lesbian sex that will melt your eReader with its heat!

Contains explicit depictions of lesbians, Seduction, Kissing, Fingering, Pussy Licking, Cunnilingus, Anallingus, Rimming, Strap-on, Sex Toy, Dildo, Strap-on Fucking, Nipple Play, Cuckolding

The exciting, and very explicit, sequel to ‘The Girl at the Bar’!
I closed my lips, not wanting to look like a complete mouth breather. But she was just so…stunning. She wore a stylish, plum jacket over a dark-purple sweater that clung to a very nice, and very sizable, pair of breasts. A black miniskirt hugged her curvy rear, and purple leggings wrapped tight about sleek legs. She clung to the arm of a short, Asian man with thick glasses and a big grin on his face. He was dressed in khaki pants and a buttoned down, plaid shirt.

Thanks to Amazon and Microsoft, Seattle was transforming into a second Silicon Valley, and newly rich software engineers were buying themselves expensive toys. It’s why Ferrari of Puyallup existed. All these newly rich were buying expensive houses in the foothills that had stunning views of Mount Rainier.

Douchebag Victor led the couple to a metallic, light-blue California T convertible. The blonde looked around, sighing as her boyfriend or husband started peppering Victor with question after question. My eyes kept falling to her tight tush as she shifted her weight. That black skirt hugged her as tight as a lover.
My hands itched to hold her so intimately.

My phone rang and rang. I reached out robotically. “Ferrari of Puyallup, I’m Aurora, how can I help you?”

The man on the line said something. I was too entranced by the blonde to really pay attention. So I just made an affirmative sound. The guy starting talking about some problem with his Ferrari, and I kept saying, “Uh huh,” and “I’m sorry to hear that,” at what felt like the appropriate times. I wondered what the blonde’s lips would taste like. What type of a kisser was she? Would she nibble on my lips, or would she be aggressive and thrust her tongue into my mouth? My nipples hardened, and I squirmed in my seat, trying to covertly scratch the itch between my thighs.

The blonde wandered away from her husband—he was still pestering Victor—and made a languorous circuit through the showroom, trying to find something interesting amidst the various Ferraris. She stopped in front of the F12berlinetta, a sleek, high-powered sports car. An absolutely gorgeous creature, bright red, with a beast of a V12 engine. The F12’s grill reminded me of a lioness grinning at her prey, and it’s low slung curves made the car seem tense, ready to pounce.

“Just bring it in,” I told the guy on the phone. An idea had popped into my head. “Our repair department will figure out what’s wrong. Okay. I hope you have a great day.”

“Are you even listening…” I hung up on the customer.

I pulled my compact out of my purse, and quickly checked my makeup and hair. I looked gorgeous; my makeup light, just enhancing my natural beauty, though my lipstick looked a bit dun. I pulled out a vibrant red, and carefully applied it. The red transformed my face from pretty to vivacious, and set off my green eyes. I stood up, undoing the first button on my sky-blue, silk blouse, then a second. I quickly adjusted my bra, pushing my breasts up to increase my cleavage, then I strolled with confidence across the showroom.

“Hi, I’m Aurora,” I greeted as bubbly as possible. “Can I help you with anything, miss?”

“Hmm,” the blonde blinked; her eyes were a deep blue-gray that I could get lost, in like a ship at sea in a deep fog bank. “Oh, hi. It’s missus, actually. I’m Ashley, and that’s my husband Hideki.”

“Nice to meet you.” Ashley. What a great name. Ashley and Aurora. We would sound so cute together. “So you’re interested in the F12berlinetta?”

“Oh, no. Just browsing. My husband’s going to take forever to make up his mind. He has to know every last variable before he can make a decision. I expect to be here a few hours.” She sighed, a look of resignation on her face. “But he just got a huge bonus, and he deserves this reward after all his hard work.”

Hours, huh. Perfect. “That has to suck for you though.”

She shrugged. “He’s a great guy. He’s just…”

“Boring?”

“Well, no.” She blushed. “He can be…interesting, in the right circumstances. But he’s not very, um, spontaneous. He has to plan out everything. And…”

“And what girl doesn’t like a pleasant surprise?”

Ashley nodded. “Is that too much to ask? To have a little excitement in my life.”

“Nope.” I grinned at her. “Why don’t we go for a test drive? Trust me, driving a Ferrari is as exciting as life can get. Well, outside of sex anyways.”

She gave me a weird look, and slowly said, “I don’t know.” She glanced back at her husband.

“Come on, isn’t this a gorgeous car?” I asked her. “Wouldn’t you love to drive her?”

“I guess,” she shrugged, only sparing a glance for the F12.

“Oh, come on,” I smiled, grasping her shoulders, and turned her to face the side. She wore a light perfume, very flowery and very enchanting. “Look at how magnificent this creature is. She’s a lioness, full of power. Ready to roar and show the world how amazing she is.”

“Well…” She shrugged again.

I took Ashley’s hand, and placed it on the hood, guiding her over to the windshield. “Feel these gentle curves. As shapely as any supermodel. And she has power. She can go from 0 to 120 miles-per-hour in eight-and-a-half seconds. 740 horsepower purrs inside her, just waiting for you to make her come to life.”

Her hand was soft, her fingers delicate. I leaned against her, letting my breast press against her arm. Color spotted her cheeks. Her body shifted, my groin brushing against her hip; pleasure trembled through my clit.

“Don’t you just want to make her respond to your touch,” I cooed in her ear, so close her perfume was almost overwhelming me with its loveliness. “Trust me, she’s as responsive as a lover.”

“You’re really…passionate,” Ashley whispered.

“I love to rev a beautiful car’s engine.” I leaned in and whispered, “Almost as much as I love revving a beautiful woman.”

“Oh my, you are wicked,” she giggled and blushed, a pleased smile on her face.

I led her around the car. “And look at her rear. Just perfect. Not too slim. Just enough curves to give her some real character.”

“It is a beautiful car,” Ashley admitted, turning a bit to glance at me; her breast brushed my arm, so soft beneath her sweater. “I take it your a…rear girl, Aurora?”

“I do love a great rear end,” I laughed, brushing almost accidentally against her shapely ass as I walked around her. “But I also love a great pair of wheels, and the F12 has a gorgeous set. Look at how flashy these rims are.”

“They do give her some character,” Ashley smiled, her eyes flicking down to my stocking-clad legs. Then she peered in through the window at the two seats. Like any great, high-performance car, there was no rear seat. Who wants to ruin the intimacy of an exciting drive with company?

“The F12 comes with all the most modern safety features, so you have nothing to be afraid of when you’re inside her.”

“That’s always a plus!”

“I love to make my customers feel safe and relaxed,” I whispered, stroking her arm. “I want you to be perfectly comfortable with all the things I’m going to show you.”

She shivered, licking her red lips. “Like what?”

“These seats!” I exclaimed. “They’re made of the softest, Corinthian leather to cup your body in comfort.”

She blushed. “I thought you meant… Never mind.”

I opened the driver door. “Why don’t you slide in her, and experience just how amazing she is?”

Ashley’s large breasts jiggled wonderfully beneath her sweater as she gracefully climbed into the car. The interior was black leather, and she smiled, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and placing the other on the stick.

I leaned in. She glanced at me and flushed, getting a great view down my blouse. “Isn’t that just a heavenly sight?” I asked her.

“Yeah,” she whispered, eyes still glued to my cleavage. “It’s, um, a great dashboard.”

“I’ve always thought so!” I cooed, shifting my shoulders to let my tits sway.

She gave a nervous cough. “I’ve never felt this way about a…car before.” Ashley shifted in the seat. “My, it is comfortable.”

“Wait until you fire this bad girl up,” I purred. “She’s brimming with passion that will make your heart burst with excitement!”

“I can’t wait.” Her voice was breathless, her large chest heaving.

“Let me get the keys.”

I let myself walk slowly towards the office, rolling my hips. I wanted to run, to let my excitement boil over. I had her! I didn’t look back, but I could feel her eyes glued to my ass. There was nothing like awakening a straight woman to the passion only a lesbian could share with her.

“I’m taking the F12 out,” I told Mr. Newman, grabbing the keys off a peg board in the break room. My boss sat at a table, sipping his coffee. He liked to be here, watching the showroom through a one-way mirror. “Got a live one on the hook.”

“Who?” he asked. “Did someone else walk in? I thought the only customers were the couple Victor’s assisting.”

“The wife,” I answered.

“That’s Victor’s commission.”

I grinned, “He’s helping the husband, so I’ll take care of the wife.”

Available for preorder at Smashwords, and purchase at most ebook retailers on 6-16-14

Sample

Naughty Wife’s Surprise (Naughty Wives 2) Sample

May 6, 2014 admin Leave a comment

Here’s a sample of my upcoming erotica, ‘Naughty Wife’s Surprise’. It’s Friday again, and Frank and Evie are looking to have more naughty fun. Last week, everything changed for the couple. Frank had watched his wife be very naughty with the Black cop, and he learned just how hot it was to watch her with another man. But now its Frank’s turn to have some fun, and he wants to bring another woman into their bed. After last week, Evie’s more than happy to do whatever her husband wants, she’ll even be his slave, and find out just how much naughty fun two wives can get into.

Contains explicit depictions of bondage, exhibitionism, cheating, domination, spanking, threesomes, oral sex, anal sex, and wife watching.

The exciting, and very explicit, sequel to ‘Roleplay Gone Wrong’!

Friday was dragging along as slowly as Wednesday and Thursday had, and Evie was a bundle of excited energy as she played scenario after scenario in her head, trying to figure out what her husband had planned for tonight. It was so rare for him to come up with one of their games. While she liked to be submissive in the bedroom, she was the dominant one in their marriage, making most of the minor decision: where to eat, which social event to attend, what type of sex game to play. Frank was a laid back guy, content to let her make those sort of decisions most of the time.

He must have thought of something really kinky, she decided, and it involves someone else. All week her husband had been having hushed phone calls with a mysterious person. She had resisted the urge to snoop on his phone and figure out whom he’d been talking to. Maybe he’s found a woman to join us. Perhaps one of his coworkers? She always suspected Carol from his office as having a crush on him. And she was a leggy woman that all the guys, her husband included, panted after.

The thought of being with a woman excited her. She had been curious in the past, and even kissed a a girl, Michelle Sanders, in college. Then she had met Frank her Sophomore year, and her curiosity for women had been driven out of her head by this great guy she was dating.

The final hour of work seemed to last an eternity. She glanced at the cloak twenty times a minute, urging the minute hand to move faster. When Five o’clock finally arrived, she was off like cheetah after a gazelle, almost running to the elevator. The ride down to the parking garage seemed to last forever. The moment the door’s opened, she called Frank. Her phone rang, and rang, and rang.

She frowned. He did tell me to call, so why isn’t he answering?

She reached her Audi, worry nibbling at her stomach, when he finally picked up, and barked, “The safeword is ‘matrimony’.”

“Okay,” she answered, and a thrill filled her—more bondage!

“Okay, Master,” he snapped.

“Sorry, Master!” she gasped. Pleasure shivered through her body straight down to between her thighs; he sounded so strong, so powerful. She pressed her thighs together; her clit suddenly aching.
There was a sound in the background, like someone sucking on a lollipop.

“In the trunk of your car is an outfit,” Frank continued; his voice grown husky. “You will strip naked right there in the parking garage, and put it on.”

She hesitated. She wasn’t alone in the parking garage, and the thought of some stranger seeing her naked only made the ache between her legs grow. “Yes, Master,” she purred, surrendering control to her husband.

“That’s a good slave,” moaned her husband. “Now lick my balls.”

“What, Master?” Evie asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

“I was talking to my other slave,” he chuckled. “She has her pretty tongue running across my balls right now. You better hurry home, or they’ll be no cum for you to share.”

She pictured leggy Carol on her knees, licking his balls while he sat on his recliner. Jealousy surged inside of her. That’s my cock she’s sucking! Then she imagined herself kneeling next to the woman, sharing her Master’s cock and taking turns licking his shaft. Maybe their tongues would brush, their lips would meet, and they would kiss around his dick. She shivered, breathing in, and she could smell her spicy arousal; her panties were drenched with her lust.

Her hands flew to the buttons of her blouse. She had to get home as fast as possible. With her blouse hanging open, she pulled her keys out of her purse, and popped the Audi’s trunk open. She carelessly threw her blouse into the compartment, and found a package from their favorite sex shop. She opened it up, and blushed.

I can’t wear this in public!

“Suck my cock some more, slave!” her husband moaned through the phone. “You better hurry, Evie. This little whore knows how to suck cock! I’m not going to last long.”

Evie didn’t want the hussy to have his cum all to herself; she reached behind her back, and unclasped her bra. The parking garage air was cold on her breasts, but that wasn’t why her nipples were as hard as diamonds. Her cheeks burned with humiliation as she unzipped her skirt. The shame went straight to her vulva, igniting a bonfire inside her. Her skirt fell down her legs. She stood in her work’s parking garage wearing only her panties, and felt like a complete tramp.

She took a deep breath. I can stop this. One word.

She slid her frilly panties down her legs, the gusset drenched with her lust.

The elevator dinged; footsteps echoed through the parking garage. She flushed, leaning into her trunk. Part of her wanted to be seen – the part controlled by her aching pussy, begging her to be free, and let a complete stranger, or even a coworker, see her naked glory – but the rationale part of Evie, her brain, feared the consequences to her career. The mix of danger and excitement was intoxicating; she couldn’t resist sliding a finger between her labia.

The footsteps grew louder, and she was all to aware of her husband’s deep moans coming from her phone. She never realized how loud the speaker on her smart phone was until this exact moment. The stranger was going to hear and investigate; her pussy dripped in anticipation.

“Suck it harder, whore!” her husband moaned. “Damn, Evie. This slave could suck the paint off the side of a house.”

She pulled out a leather corset from the bag, similar to the one she wore last Friday. Only the bodice of this corset was made with a fishnet mesh. The footsteps grew softer, moving away. She gave a sigh of that was a mix of relief and disappointment, then pulled the corset over her body, lacing it up the front. The mesh pressed tight against her round tits, and she could see her pale flesh bulging through the gaps along with her hard, pink nipples. The corset ended at her bellybutton, and two garters hung down. She glanced in the bag; there were no panties, only a pair thigh-high fishnet stockings and a leather slave collar.

Frank grunted, and the mystery woman sucked nosily on his cock. “Deep-throat me, slut! Yes, that’s it!”

“I can’t wear this on the drive home,” Evie complained. Her stomach churned with fear; her pussy churned with lust. “There’s no bottom, and you can see my nipples clear as day.”

“Your windows are tinted,” Frank answered. “And if you get pulled over, I’m sure you know how to get out of trouble. Say the word, and you don’t have to do this. It’s your choice, Evie.”

She flushed; her pussy ached too much to stop now. She grabbed the fishnet stockings, pulling them up her sleek thighs, and clipped them to the corset’s garters. Then she pulled the last item out of the bag—the slave collar. She starred at it clutched in her trembling hands. The collar was made of black leather, dotted with metal studs, and a short length of chain dangled from the front. This thing was designed to degrade, and to make her feel like a bitch—Frank’s bitch.

It’s my choice.

Evie secured the collar tight about her throat, the chain rattling. The leather was cold against her skin, and a degrading shame went straight through her, ending at her throbbing clitoris. She needed relief, and pressed her burning groin against the side of her car.

She climaxed the moment the cold metal touched her hot clitoris.

“Oh god, Frank!” Evie screamed, her voice echoing through the garage. Waves of passion pounded through her, and she didn’t care if she was heard; she just needed to shout her submission to her husband as loud as she could “Oh, Frank! I’m your slave tonight!”

“Good! Hurry home!” The phone went dead.

Available for preorder at Smashwords, and releases at most ebook retailers on 5-19-14

Sample

Sample for ‘Girl at the Bar’ by Reed James

April 8, 2014 admin Leave a comment

The Girl at the Bar is the first in the Seducing Straight Women Series. Aurora is 23 and her life’s a mess. She falls in love at the drop of the hat–she just can’t stay in love. While out at a bar with friends on New Years Eve, she makes a drunken bet to seduce 100 straight women in a year for $10,000 dollars. Aurora has her sights set on raven-haired and emerald-eyes Ursula sitting at the bar. Only problem… Ursula’s with her boyfriend. That’s not going to stop Aurora from going home with the ‘Girl at the Bar’. Coming 04-21-14 by Reed James.

Chapter One

I sometimes feel like I fall in love a hundred times a day. There are so many beautiful, vivacious, exciting, and wonderful women out there, and I want to love them all. I’m like a butterfly, flitting between flower to flower. Wonderfully pink flowers full of succulent nectar.

I only wish I could stay in love. It would solve so many problems.

My phone vibrated, buzzing on my nightstand. I tried to ignore. I needed more sleep. I buried my head beneath my pillow and squeezed my eyes shut. Sleep started to return, a comforting, black darkness that smothered my thoughts into blissful…

That damned phone!

I should have turned it off instead of leaving it to buzz loudly on the dark-stained wood of my nightstand. I opened my eyes, staring balefully at my phone. It sat next to my alarm clock, the red digits displaying 12:04 PM. It wasn’t even three in the afternoon yet! Far too early to wake up.

I grabbed my smart phone, swiped the screen and saw a dozen messages from someone named Natasha. “Who’s that,” I muttered.

I could feel the anger of whomever this Natasha was through the inordinate amount of capitalized letters and exclamation marks in her texts. “Aurora WHO THE HELL IS THIS!!!??!!” the first message read, linked to a instagram pic of me and a tan, dark haired girl grinding together on the dance floor of the Clam Diver, the hot, lesbian club I loved to go with.

I studied the photo, wracking my sleep-deprived mind. This was last night, I decided.

I smiled, remembering the petite, shy girl I had met last night. She had the most beautiful, tan skin and I fell in love with her the moment our eyes met. I had been pleased to discover my new lover had no tan lines anywhere on her lithe body when we stumbled into my bed around four this morning. I could still smell her flowery perfume in my bed.

I frowned. Where was the girl. Lacy, I think her name was. Or was it Macy? Stacy? It may have been Tracy? I struggled to make my sleep addled brain think. My phone vibrated again. Another message with far too many exclamation points from Natasha.

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I stretched, deciding sleep was pointless, and rolled out of bed. I lived in a loft apartment converted from some old office building. The floors were beat-up hardwoods and the walls cement bricks painted white. My bed was in the southeast corner before a set of large windows that gave a magnificent view of Commencement Bay and the Port of Tacoma. Sometimes I would sit here and watch the massive, orange cranes unload cargo ships for minutes, fascinated by the frenzied activity.

Then I’d get board. I have the attention span of a butterfly, and I would flit off to find some new amusement.

I passed my floor mirror and paused to peer critically at myself. My long, fiery-red hair tumbled in a mess down my shoulders and back. Silver glinted from the barbell piercing in my right nipple and the green scales of my serpent tattoo flashed metabolically. The snake curled around my right breast, it’s forked tongue flicking out at my nipple like he was licking me. I turned and winced when I saw the slight plumpness around my butt and waist. I put on five pounds. All those Christmas cookies!

Sighing, I stumbled past the Japanese triptych I used to partition off my bed from the rest of the loft – a vain attempt to make it feel less like a wide-open hanger and more like a home – heading for the bathroom.

The shower was running. Tracy must be in there. Or was it Marcy. Kelsey? No, that sounded wrong.

I tottered past my second-hand living room furniture I had scrounged up at various thrift stores – none of it matched, and all of it showed its age, but when you were poor, you made do – and reached the small kitchenette. I set a pot of coffee peculating, and plopped naked on a chair. Then I laid my head on my small, round kitchen table.

I could catch a nap waiting for the coffee.

The pounding on my door woke me up. “The fuck,” I muttered, stretching and brushing my fiery-red hair out of my face. I stumbled to the door, bare feet padding on the hardwood floors.

A bleached-blonde woman with a round, Slavic face – quite beautiful, with high cheek bones and gorgeous, blue eyes and dark lashes – stood n my doorstep. Anger twisted her vaguely familiar features, red suffusing her cheeks. Then she blinked, looking me up and down. Cold air rushed in around her; I shivered and realized I was naked, my nipples hardening in the icy breeze.

“Hi, uh, Natalie,” I greeted, pulling a name out of my sleep addled brain.

“You whore!” she screeched. “You don’t even remember my name!”

“Sorry,” I muttered, racking my brain. “Um, it starts with an N, right?”

She just starred incredulously at me, then her anger came roaring right back at me. “It’s Natasha!” Right, angry texter. “Who the hell were you dancing with last night!”

“Um…” I started to say and she brushed past me.

“I can’t believe you cheated on me, Aurora!” raged the blonde. “I thought we had something! Didn’t Saturday mean anything to you?”

Saturday? My brain didn’t work without coffee.

“What’s wrong, Natasha?” I asked. I vaguely remembered that night. “We had fun, what’s the problem?”

“You were grinding all over that slut! That’s the problem!”

“No, I mean you and I, we had some fun, but that was it? Why are you overreacting so much?”

“But…” her voice quivered. “We had something magical that night. Didn’t you feel it. It was more than sex. We made love.”

It was all coming back to me: the flirtatious dancing at the club, the passionate kisses we shared in the cab ride to her apartment, and the even more passionate sex we had in her bed. My heart beat with excitement, the memory of our love bubbling back up. She was gorgeous—leggy, piercing blue eyes, smooth skin.

“We did make love,” I sighed. “It was a magical night.”

“Then why were you grinding on this woman?” she demanded, holding up her phone and showing off the pic. “Who is this women?”

“Um, Stacy,” I answered. “Or maybe its Nancy? I’m bad with names.”

The bathroom door opened and Lacy – or Macy or whatever her name was – stepped out amidst a cloud of steam, her tan body glistening with moisture, as beautiful as the sun burning through the morning’s fog.

“Gosh that was refreshing,” she said with a smile. “I hope you don’t mine me stealing all you’re hot…”

“What’s she doing here?” snarled Natasha. “You brought her home with you? How could you, Aurora?”

“Well…” I tried to explain.

“I thought you loved me!”

“I…”

“Did you even love me?”

“Yeah…”

“Did our night mean nothing to you! It was only two nights ago!”

“Let me…”

“I’m not the type of girl that just has one night stands! I only slept with you because you said you loved me!”

“Please…”

I just couldn’t get a word in. Her face grew more and more red; poor Stacy froze like a deer in headlights beneath the never ending barrage of Natasha’s tirade. Then my new lover started edging towards my bed, grabbing her mauve party dress, pulling it over her head. She was retreating, lucky girl.

Coat slung over one arm, heels and panties clutched in the other hand, Macy slipped past us, waving weakly at me, and escaped. I wished I could follow her, but that would mean leaving Natasha alone in my apartment. That seemed like a bad idea. I had a number of breakable objects in here that I quite valued.

“Listen…” I tried to say.

“Didn’t you feel how our souls touched. Didn’t it mean anything to you, Aurora?”

Oh bother.

“How can you hurt me like this? How can you…” Tears brimmed in her sapphire eyes and her momentum faltered.

“We met at a club and had some great sex,” I told her, finally getting a sentence out. “But that’s all it was.”

“You said you loved me,” she sobbed.

“I did love you,” I told her, reaching out to stroke her face. “How couldn’t I love such a beautiful, sexy woman. You’re irresistible.”

She sighed, rubbing her cheek against my hand. “You do love me?”

Wait, what? “No, I mean, that night was magical and I couldn’t help but love you…”

Her lips tasted sweet and minty as her tongue wiggled into my mouth. I froze for a second, caught complete off guard by her sudden, passionate assault. Her body pressed against mine and I melted into her kiss. There was no room for thought, her lips were too insistent, her body to inviting. My innards were a maelstrom of passion awakened by the kiss of this beautiful woman.

I let my hands roam her body, unbuttoning and unclasping, helping to get her as naked as I was. I burned to feel her silky skin pressed against mine. Her fingers teased and prodded my intimate flesh, light, fluttering touches that stoked my passions. I buried my face in her neck; she smelled wonderful. Rose and lavender.

We fell into my bed in a tangled heap of searching hands and kissing lips. I had to touch every part of this goddess. My fingers traced the line of her arms until I captured her hand and brought her fingers to my lips, licking and sucking them.

“I love you,” she panted as I kissed up her arm.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to fight down the roar of emotions in my head and think for once. It was too hard, she was too irresistible. A statue carved to perfection by a master sculptor that demanded my admiration. “I love you too,” I whispered back, my heart beating with the emotions.

She squealed in delight and pulled my lips down for another wonderful, mind-numbing kiss. She rolled us over so I lay on my back, her bleached-blonde hair falling in a curtain about us. “I love you so much,” she cooed.

No you don’t, I wanted to say. It’s just lust—right? You can’t really fall in love this fast. Instead I moaned, “Yes, yes! I can’t even describe how much I love you!”

Her lips were fire as she nuzzled my neck, her soft breasts and hard nipples rubbing against my body, igniting more nerves. She kissed lower and lower, burying her face between my breast. She took great delight in kissing my snake, starting at the base of my breast and circling up to my hard nipple. I gasped as her tongue played with my piercing, flicking and toying. Sparks crackled through me, my back writhing on my soft sheets.

I burned between my legs. An insistent fire that needed to be doused. “Lower, please!” I moaned. “I need you to love me!”

Natasha teased me the entire way, letting her hair and breasts drag across my stomach as I writhed in desperate need. Her tongue traced my ribs then probed my bellybutton. I gripped the sheets, arching my back. I needed her mouth on me. I needed the fires doused.

“Oh please! Please! I need it so badly?”

“What do you need?” A naughty grin painted her face nestled between my thighs. She was so achingly close.

“Eat my pussy!” I gasped. “Make me cum! Please! I need your love!”

I exploded. Her tongue was skilled, exploring my flower as delicate as a butterfly, probing her tongue into all the sensitive, wonderful, achingly delightful spots. My climax rippled through me and I could smell my passion: a tart musk mixing with the scent of her rosy perfume.

“Yes, yes!” I moaned, another orgasm building inside me. “I love you! Make me cum! I want to explode all over your wonderful mouth!”

A finger slipped into me; my eyes shot open at the intrusion. Her tongue flickered on my tiny pearl and pleasure vibrated through me. She worked her digit in and out of my sheath, wiggling it about and touching every wonderful spot inside me.

“Keep cumming!” she purred. “I love it! You taste divine!”

Her finger curled just right. I erupted and howled wordlessly. Passion shot through me. Rapture consumed me. I never loved a woman more than Natasha at this instance. I cried my love out as pleasure crashed through me again and again. I collapsed on my sheets, drenched in sweat, staring up at the metal rafters unable to move.
Natasha crawled up my body, smiling proudly, my passion glistening on her lips. I pulled her down for a sweet, gentle kiss, savoring my tartness. Her breasts pillowed against me as I held this wonderful, beautiful creature, our lips sharing our love.

At this exact moment she was the love of my life.

“Let me return the favor,” I purred and she smiled.

Coming 04-21-14 to Amazon and Smashwords

Sample

Roleplay Gone Wrong Sample Chapter

March 26, 2014 admin 2 Comments

Chapter One: Evie’s Naughty Idea

Frank wolf whistled when Evie stepped out of the bathroom.

She wore a slinky negligee – deep maroon with a black lace trim – he hadn’t seen before; a hungry look on her face. He instantly knew she had thought of some new, kinky game for them to play. She smiled, a sultry curl to her full, lush lips – just begging to be kissed – causing dimples to appear in her flushed cheeks. After thirteen years of marriage, he still found her beautiful, with her sparkling, blue eyes, and raven-black hair that framed her round face.

They had married shortly after college and he loved her even more today than when they first met. Even as his love for her deepened, their sex life had cooled. Things just became stale. There were only so many positions to try after thirteen years. So a few years ago they started roleplaying to add an extra spice to their life.

It was tame stuff at first. The sort of games that could be played in the safety of their own home: the naughty nurse giving her patient a sponge bath, the bored housewife and the repairmen, the stripper at the bachelor party, and then the he was the stripper at the bachelorette party. His wife’s favorite was the cop letting a prostitute off the hook in exchange for sexual favors. Evie was a social worker, and she spent hours helping women to get out of prostitution, and Frank discovered during their passionate roleplay that she had a strange fascination with hookers.

The tame roleplaying at home led to more play out of the house. They would go to a bar and Frank would pretend to pick her up like she was a barfly, then they’d go home and fuck. Soon that wasn’t exciting enough, so they started going to seedy motels, pretending they were cheating on their spouses, and last week they had fucked each other in a bar’s men’s room.

It was the wildest sex Frank had ever experienced. The thrill of getting caught had been intoxicating. They could hear men moving around the bathroom, while they tried to keep their ever growing passion quiet. Knowing that the only thing separating the two of them from being found out was the thin metal of stall’s door had quickly sent his balls to boiling; his orgasm that night had been intense.

“You look sexy,” Frank smiled as she posed for him at the master bath’s doorway.

Her blue eyes danced with pleasure and she swayed to the bed, hardening his cock. His eyes fell to the bodice, the pink of her nipples peaking out through gaps in the black lace. The hem fell barely below her crotch, tantalizing him with the hint of the treasure between her thighs.

“You ready for some loving?” she purred as she reached the bed, crawling across like a hungry puma, licking her lips.

“Always, babe,” he answered as her hands rubbed the growing bulge through his cotton pajamas.

She purred as she drew his cock out, her hands stroking life into him; he responded eagerly. She rolled her thumb across the tip, smearing precum around his sensitive head, pleasure flashing through him lightning.

She made a throaty groan, a predatory cat hungry for her prey. “What have you got for your kitty tonight?”

“Some creamy milk,” Frank answered. “My naughty kitty just has to work for it.”

Evie’s grin was large, feline, her blue eyes twinkling with lust. “While your kitty’s working for her creamy milk, why don’t you pet her?” she asked, rubbing her cheek like a cute cat against the tip of his cock. Precum gleamed silvery on her, a strand momentarily connecting his dick to her face before it snapped.

“Sound’s good. I love petting my kitty.”

Evie flipped around, straddling Franks face. She wore no panties beneath her negligee, and her treasure – barely concealed by a neatly trimmed, black bush – descended to his face. Juices glistened on her fur, dripping from her thick, pink lips and he could smell her wonderful scent—a spicy, heady aroma that he still loved even after thirteen years of marriage.

“I love it when you pet me,” she purred as he took his first lick across her vulva, gathering a thick coating of her creamy juices into his mouth.

Frank had heard that some men wouldn’t go down on a woman, and he couldn’t understand that. He loved every part of his wife’s pussy: from her small clit that had to be coaxed out of its hood like a shy maid out of her panties, to her thick labia that would rub wonderfully against his lips as he dug his tongue deep into her hole. He loved to spread open her petals and stare down into her pink depths, then plunge his tongue in deep and fuck her with it like a mini-cock.

And he loved to dine at her buffet.

As he went to work on her pussy, her lips and tongue were busy on his cock. She started with small licks, very cat-like, focusing on the ridge around the mushroom-like tip. Every time her tongue flicked across the tip, pleasure knifed through him. Then that wonderful moment came when her lips engulfed him. She sucked hard and his cunnilingus brought gasps and moans of delight muffled by his cock.

That was the best part of sixty-nining with her. As he ate out her cunt and drove her wild, her moans became more passionate and loud, vibrating about his cock as she bobbed her head. One more delightful sensation that added to the cornucopia of her sucking mouth and wiggling tongue.

His hands found her ass, still tight despite turning thirty-five last month. She worked out everyday, keeping herself in great shape for him. He felt bad; his job kept him too busy, and he was losing the war against his expanding waist. “Just more of you to love,” Evie would joke, or sometimes she would grab his love handles while they were making love, and giggle, “Something for me to hold onto.”

He explored her wonderful firm ass, squeezing her cheeks as his tongue feasted on her pussy, savoring every spicy drop of her ambrosia. He slid his fingers down into her crack, searching for her rosebud. She sucked harder when he found her puckered anus, gently teasing it with his finger. He pressed and her sphincter resisted for a moment, before it parted and his finger buried into her asshole.

She exploded.

Juices poured into his hungry lips and a loud, muffled yowl hummed around his cock, adding wonderful vibrations and bringing Frank closer and closer to his own climax. He worked his finger in and out of her anus as his tongue went to town on her clitoral hood. The little pink bud sprouted forth and he sucked his lips about it, driving Evie into another spasm of rapture.

Her mouth slid lower and lower on his cock. Frank knew she was rewarding him for the wonderful cum he had given her by deep-throating his cock. The tip brushed the back of her throat and she relaxed and swallowed him. It was pure delight to be in the tight confines of her throat, and her humming vibrated harder through his cock as her lips kissed the base of his shaft.

“Shit, Evie,” he groaned. “Gonna cum!”

His balls were boiling over; the pressure in them too high to be contained any longer. She quickly slid her mouth up his cock until only the tip remained between her lips as his semen thickly flooded her lips. Frank groaned, thrusting his hips up as the tense pleasure flashed through his entire body. Then he relaxed, panting, and enjoyed the afterglow.

Evie cuddled up next to him and nuzzled his cheek. “You were wonderful,” she purred, licking at his lips. She always enjoyed cleaning her juices up afterward. While she licked, her hand found his softening cock, gently stroking him.

“So, what do you have in mind, Evie?” he asked her.

A look of pure innocence appeared on her face. Frank didn’t buy it one bit. “Maybe I just wanted to give my husband a good time.”

Frank leveled a flat look at her. “And that’s why you bought a new nighty? It has nothing to do with the fact that you thought of some sexy, new way for us to have fun?”

Her grin turned wicked. “I had the most deliciously naughty idea,” she whispered in his ear, her breath warm; her tongue lightly grazed his earlobe as she talked. His cock began to respond to her lazy strokes. He felt like they were back in college, lying in his dorm after an hour spent making love. Evie would stroke him and had whisper naughty things in his ear to have gotten him ready for round two.

It had been years since Frank’s cock had been able to be ready this fast. But tonight she was just so damned sexy; transformed into a succubus by whatever naughty idea bubbled inside her head. Frank felt his second wind rising along with his cock.

“What?” he croaked as pleasure tumbled through his body.

“I want you to be my john.”

“Your what, babe?”

“My john,” she continued; breath moist on his ear. “You know, the guy who picks up a prostitute.”

“Right,” he muttered. “I should have realized that.”

“Having a little trouble thinking?”

“Well,” he smiled, “it’s hard to think with a beautiful, passionate, amazing woman stroking your cock.”

Her laugh was throaty and wicked. “It must be so hard to be a man and have all that blood pooling in your cock, starving your brain of oxygen.”

“It definitely has its advantages,” he answered.

“Umm, I can feel all seven inches of your advantages.”

“Eight inches,” he protested. “Just like you’ve been twenty-nine the last six years.”

She kissed him, her lips salty. “Fine, eight inches. And where would you like to stick this impressive specimen.”

His hands wormed between her wet thighs and he roughly shoved two fingers deep into her. “I think this’ll do just fine.”

She threw her head back and laughed, rich and velvety. “I think it will.”

She looks like a goddess, he thought as she straddled his waist. Frank’s cock reached for the sky, for the pussy hovering just inches above it. She lowered slowly until his tip brushed her petals, teasing him. Her fingers grabbed his cock and rubbed him across her engorged labia, smearing precum and pussy cream together.

“You haven’t heard the best part of my idea,” she purred.

“What?” he demanded, frustration tinging his voice. “Can’t this wait!” He wanted to be buried inside her. No, he needed to be buried inside her. His cock ached for her embrace.

“I want to stand on a street corner, out in public, dressed like the trashiest whore. Then you get to drive up and pay me. There’s this motel we can go behind and fuck like bunnies in your car.”

That sounded dangerous, but it was so hard to think with her silky pussy rubbing on his dick. His cock needed to be inside her. He would agree to anything at that moment to feel her sheath engulf him. “Fine. Let’s do it!”

Whatever reservations he may have felt were driven away by the rapture of her pussy engulfing his cock. Warm, wet, spongy. It was absolute heaven. Nature had left her barren and she was as tight as she had been at twenty.

“Fuck!” he groaned as she rose up achingly slow, the sweetest friction rubbing on his sensitive tip. “Take off the nighty! Let me see those beautiful tits!”

Evie peeled the negligee over her head, revealing her magnificent, round breasts. Her nipples were fat, pink, and centered in half-dollar sized areolas. At thirty-five, or twenty-nine, or whatever age she claimed to be, they were still perfect. His hands roughly grasped them; his ardor was too great to consider being gentle.

“I’m going to be your five dollar hooker!” she gasped as she bounced on him, her tits jiggling. “A cheap whore to be used for your pleasure!”

“Oh Evie,” he moaned. “Be my whore!”

“Yes, yes, yes!” she panted over and over. “I will! I’ll be your dirty, filthy hooker. I’ll do anything you pay for! Anything!”

He couldn’t believe it; his balls were already boiling over. It was like he was back in college all over again and able to go three times in a night. He grunted as he erupted his frothy passion into her churning sheath. Evie slammed down and ground her clit into the wet, tangled mess of his pubic hair. She bucked, her pussy convulsing about his cock as her orgasm smashed through her.

“Holy shit,” he muttered as she leaned down, her heavy breasts rubbing against his hairy chest. “You are a helluva woman. I’m glad I married you.”

Smiling, she breathed, “You ain’t half bad either, Frank.” Her kiss was sweet, loving, as they both came down from their orgasms.

As Evie fell asleep on his chest, Frank’s mind was full of thoughts of the fun they’d have on Friday night. He just had to get through the drudgery of the next two work days.

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Roleplay Gone Wrong Sample Chapter

Roleplay Gone Wrong
Naughty Wives Series 1
by Reed James
Copyright 2014

Chapter One: Evie’s Naughty Idea

Naughty Ladies Publications' BLog

Bound to the Fey (Book Four of the Mortal Champion)

Chapter One: Rose of Despair

The Fires of Passion (Book Three of the Mortal Champion)

Chapter One: A Healing Touch

Winter’s Kiss (Book Two of the Mortal Champion)

Prologue: Maeve of the Red Rose

Chapter One:

Roleplay Gone Wrong Naughty Wives Series 1 by Reed James Copyright 2014

Chapter One: Evie’s Naughty Idea

Naughty Ladies Publications' BLog

Roleplay Gone Wrong
Naughty Wives Series 1
by Reed James
Copyright 2014