erotic eBooks

Chick-sicle 

Cheryl dipped her still-numb toes into the bubbling water, self-consciously holding the hem of the T-shirt close to her hips, even though Trevor was politely staying away while she settled into the tub.  The sensory overload of extreme heat washing away extreme cold drew a loud moan from Cheryl that embarrassed her a little – it was the same sound she made when she knew she was going to come…   “Frozen fiery femme Bubbly, pretty chick-sicle Melting into bliss”   Cheryl turned to see Trevor regarding her with a sheepish grin and two glasses of wine.   “Haiku?”   “Sorry.  It’s a bad habit.” 

Say Hello to Honey Bee 

“Maybe you can bring me some of that famous honey later,” cooed Claude, making a reference that all the local men either knew firsthand or had heard about.   Bee turned smartly and pranced away, giving them an extended opportunity to gaze at her ass in her favorite Wrangler jeans, the pair that had netted her the most whistles and stupefied expressions.    Beatrice liked to be called Honey Bee.  She had a pile of blonde hair that she kept meticulously tousled, like she’d just left a hurried, mid-afternoon tryst in a decent hotel.  A curly lock or two hung just above her left eye, and when her hair was just stiff enough from the perfect amount of product, it would hook under her brow, requiring her to blink charmingly several times before she brushed it away. 

Bonnie & Friends, Soaking Wet 

Bonnie waved a finger of warning.  “I see that look in your eyes, bee-otch!”   Lenore faked a quick grab, causing Bonnie to drop her hips back—which in turn made her boobs pop out of her top.   More laughter, as Lenore playfully tackled her, pushing her to the edge of the pool.  Bonnie did not resist, letting herself be grappled into the cool water by her warm friend, where they swam and tussled casually for several minutes, and Bonnie felt that long-repressed attraction that Lenore sometimes –vaguely- seemed to reciprocate. 

Maggie: A Reminiscence 

Spirals of red curls leapt up from underneath her helmet and attacked my face like a litter of playful and affectionate kittens.  I inhaled deeply, and planted the scent of those tresses in a garden of memories that would bear her name: Maggie.    This experience, along with the sound of her motorcycle, its vibrating power beneath us, the sunlight filtering through branches half-denuded of their leaves, and of course, her warm body in front of and against me were almost a sensory overload -the midpoint of a crescendo of serendipitous moments that made this the kind of day you - well - write stories about.  

Queen of Spades 

The guards?  Hit and miss.  There was a guy who drove around the outside of the fence in a black BMW.  Suzy put on a tank top (no bra) and a pair of Daisy Dukes, and feigned drunkenness, stumbling across the road as Mr. Beamer drove by.  He couldn’t resist her long taut legs, her full breasts, her (messy) chestnut hair.  None of them ever could.  He rolled down the window to ask if she needed any “help”, looking her over like a piece of pie.  Suzy wandered to the window wearing a dazed smile, staring lustfully, and sprayed her little concoction in his face.  He went out like a cheap candle. 

Treat 

Michael pulled the zipper, unpeeling the lacy fabric from a sculpted back that bore a tiny dragonfly tattoo just above the right buttock. Stacy shoved the black garment and her matching G-string to her ankles, stepping out as she turned to face him again.  She now wore only the black headpiece and a charm bracelet with little bats and crescent moons on it.   

Here's to Something New 

Lynn’s uninhibited personality and sensual intelligence had easily erased any trepidation I might have felt.  Likewise, Daniel’s unassuming sexuality made me feel like I was just trying a new mixed drink.  A very tasty drink, I would learn.  Lynn poured us all drinks, then led the toast.  “To something new.”