Here's a little preview of my latest book out now, Keisha.  Get it @ Amazon, AppleBooks, Barnes and Nobels, GooglePlay, Kobo, (softcover).

I was on holiday in Detroit and one of the things that I wanted to do while I was there was check out Déjà Vu in Highland Park. 

Out of all the clubs in Detroit I picked that spot because Highland Park was not considered part of Detroit so it was not subject to the Holy Rollers decimation of fun times by forcing City Council to impose stupid rules on the strip clubs.

Rules like:

  • Topless dancers would remain six feet from the patrons and on a stage at all times.
  • No lap dancing and no mingling VIP rooms.
  • All alcohol will be banned.

Are you friggin’ serious! 

So since city hall was diligently working to thoroughly fuck up the strip club scene in Detroit, I decided to roll to Highland Park, which was outside of Detroit’s jurisdiction.

So I got to the spot around 7pm, which are a combination strip club, adult book and video store.  The facility was shaped like a U with the entrances and parking lot inside of the U. 

The strip club has two stories with the main stage on the first floor and private rooms and stage on the second floor.

There is no cover and you can't bring your own shit so if you want a drink you need to holla at one of the strippa's and get your sip on from their private stash. 

I took a seat by the stage and watched the attractive sista on the stage and took the spot in. She danced for three songs and then I tripped when they called the next dancer to the stage. 

The next dancer didn't walk to the stage...  She dropped down from the floor above butt ass naked.  Like I said..  I tripped when I saw that shit. The first dancer stepped down from the stage and asked me if I wanted a dance.  I waved her away.  She was sexy but she had a uni-bush from her pussy to her asshole. 

I wanted to lick some ass and didn't want to lick a hairy one. The second dancer finished and the hot, tall, butt naked, chocolate freak dropped down from the floor above. 


"Now this is more like it!"  I thought she was...exactly...what I was looking for. 


Toni sat with her girlfriends at their table during Happy Hour. They were all toasty and feeling very unnecessary. They were celebrating. Toni had just received word that she was being promoted. She was a prosecutor in the district attorney's office and she would be the second chair when the DA tried a case or she'd be the lead on super important cases. She worked very hard to get where she was and she was proud of her accomplishments.

Perhaps she worked too hard. She tried the marriage thing but she failed miserably at being a wife. As fine as she was, her husband grew frustrated at her unavailability. He left her after only a couple of years of marriage. Nowadays the 33 year old, newly single lawyer rarely dated and was very sexually repressed. The long hours at work kept her mind off of her libido.



In my novel, Revenge – Between my Lover’s Legs…, I based my character Lvette on the luscious Ms. Nipples and the images that I have of Lvette in the book are of her.


Following, is a interview that that I did with her.  Reading it will give you a deeper understanding of the character Lvette and I hope you are moved by the pictures of her that I have In the book.




Click here to read the story:



His text messages, emails and DMS kept me breathless, blushing and flustered for three days. A picture he sent was cause to relive tension immediately. I was tired of moist panties and twisting uncomfortably in my seat to stop my girl from throbbing with anticipation and need. I was determined that payback would be a bitch. Every time I sent him something naughty, what I received in return would make a whore beg for mercy.

I knew I was in trouble when the time finally came. He let me know that I had opened Pandora's Box. In a lengthy email he told me how he would punish me but I was determined to hold my ground. If I was going to tap out he was going to get his too. Then I saw it, "25 Ways to Kiss a Naked Man" I read it thoroughly and I thought I was ready. His trip was over. He would be back in town before the evening was over.

I washed slowly and moisturized with the oil I know he likes. I pulled on a black lace cami that displayed my magnificent cleavage along with some boy shorts that only covered the cuff of my ass.

The year was 1997. It was a Thursday afternoon, my college roommate and I loaded up the car for a road trip, destination Atlanta. The drive from Mississippi to Georgia was about 5 ½ hours. The occasion was the now defunct “Freak Nic”. It was my first experience and boy was it more than I expected. I was 19 at the time, and a freshman in college. We caravaned in two cars. With just enough money to drink, party and eat five of us rented one hotel room on Peachtree. To hell with the formal events, we were there to kick it.

It was like nothing I had ever seen. Traffic was ridiculous. The weekend was partly a blur. In a matter of two days, I had seen someone’s car tilted over at Lenox Mall. I saw women walking around in bikinis, but no sign of a beach and my buddies and I were trying to holla at every group of chicks we saw. It must have been a Saturday night, and after partying for Thursday and Friday with no sleep, my boys were exhausted. Not to mention we were going to hit the road and head back Sunday afternoon.


My wife Karen and I have been married for 9 years, and have three kids. Karen is a short 5'1; slim, has an attractive face, short brunette hair, and smallish tits with magnificent large, puffy nipples. She’s fairly reserved, especially about sex. It’s not that Karen doesn’t enjoy it, she does, she’s just not comfortable talking about it. She claims to have no sexual fantasies, and outside of breathing heavily, makes little sound while we’re having sex, which is maybe once or twice a month since the kids came. Keeping these facts in mind, consider what happened to us last Friday night.

I learned my lesson about sleepin on the sexual skills of big women. Damn. I was studying with Ashley, one of my classmates in my student apartment one night. She was 5’6”, wore light brown contacts, kept her hair done, had 40 D breasts and thick thighs. It was getting late. She wouldn’t be able to make it back to her dorm before she was locked out. So I told her she could spend the night. We continued to study until around midnight and took a break.

“I need to get comfortable. You mind if I change?” she asked.

“Sure” I replied. She went into the bathroom to take off her shirt and skirt. Ashley came back out and sat back beside me in the bed.

“Is this distracting you?”

“Nah, you good.”

I tried to study but I kept glancing over at her. I usually didn’t go for big women but damn, she was looking good as fuck. I got hard and continued to try to study. She seemed to notice it because she began to scoot closer.

“Mike, have you found out the answer to number three yet?” she said with a flirtatious tone.

“The Executive Branch.” I replied.

“Excuse me for a minute real quick. Let me get comfortable.”

She nodded and waited as I went to the bathroom and took off my shirt. I came back out, laid on the bed and continued to study. Ashley soon laid her head on my stomach. I looked down to try to control myself. She grinned seductively and went back to studying. Two minutes later, I heard her breathing heavier than usual. She had slid her panties to the side and states to rub her, beautiful, swollen clit. My mouth watered at the sight. I tried to gain composure but she took her pussy-coated fingers and stuck them in my mouth. Damn she tasted good as fuck.

“Shit….Let me get another taste.” I requested.

She ignored me and began to unzip my pants as she rubbed herself faster. She soon slid my member into her waiting mouth and began to bob up and down on it quickly, while inserting two fingers from her free hand into her drippin, wet pussy. I moaned and began to thrust deep in her mouth trying to touch her tonsils. Ashley slid down, deepthroating me damn near to my balls and massaged the shaft with her mouth and tongue.

“She ain’t got no gag reflex,” I thought to myself.

I can’t believe what I’m doing!

I know I’ll be going to hell when I die, but I just can’t make myself care. I feel freer and more alive than I ever have. I’m tingling all over.

I’m lying nude on my side in bed with an ex-con named Wade Masterson, the strongest, most masculine man I’ve ever been close to. I have his enormous cock in my right hand, stroking it up and down. He’s telling me how he likes it done — and incredibly, I’m obeying him, shamelessly! My left hand is cupped around his powerful balls, lightly, playfully “bouncing” them up and down.

My poor husband Frank Willis, the minister of Angelfire Baptist Church who preaches about the flames of hell every Sunday, is also naked, tied to a chair facing the bed and watching us. He’s straining to get loose but Wade has him tied so tight and securely it would take him a week to free himself. His eyes are blazing with jealousy but he knows there’s nothing he can do about it.

He’s making these pathetic little whimpering noises, but strangely, his little dick is standing at attention as he watches me applying baby oil and jacking this burly, macho guy.

Even the sound of Wade’s low, resonant voice sends chills rippling through my body. He’s telling me how he wants me to work him.

“Faster . . . . yeah, that’s it faster, faster. . . Okay, now ease up. Slow down. Slower. . . Yeah. Work it nice and slow. . . Okay faster . . . Slower . . .”

And as I try to keep up with his instructions, I keep getting over-excited and losing control. I speed up when he says slow down without meaning to. Just when I settle into a nice jacking rhythm he orders me to change the pace and I can’t keep up.

And worst of all, when I screw up, Wade and I both laugh.

I know it’s so naughty and cruel to laugh and play like this with my poor husband watching, but I just can’t help it. For once in my life I feel free, and this amazing man is the one who’s liberated me.

Wade has a mean streak but instead being distasteful to me, it’s turning me on. I had no idea I was this sinful.

He’s making me do the dirtiest things. And the terrible thing is, no matter how hard I try not to, I’m loving it!

He says: “Tell your wimpy little preacher hubby how it feels to have a REAL man’s dick in your hands.”

And I blush and say, “Oh I can’t. It’s just too mean.”

And he reaches over and gives my bare ass a playful little swat and says sternly: “I said tell him!” And in spite of myself I say, “Ooh! This is the hugest, most magnificent prick in the world and I love to jack it!”

Wade laughs his dirty laugh and shifts his position to give Frank a better view.

“Tell him you’re going to suck my big dick and swallow every drop of my cum,” he says.

And again I blush. “Oh, I can’t say that!” He reaches his hand up again, but before he gives me another slap, I shout it out at the top of my lungs: “I’m going to suck this huge dick and make him shoot his entire load in my mouth.” And as I say it, I feel it free something wild in me. No matter how I try to deny it, I’m loving this!

How did this ever happen? I’ve never in my life used language like that.

This morning, I was the dutiful wife of a strict minister who believed the Bible when it said the wife should submit to her husband. Sex was a duty and I performed it faithfully when Frank wanted it.

I’ve never had a man’s penis in my mouth and the only sex I ever had was with my straight-laced husband in the missionary position.

Now, less than eight hours later, at four in the afternoon, Wade has turned me into an all-out whore who craves his cock and enjoys letting him ravage me in front of Frank.

I guess it started this morning, before the church service started. Frank was spanking me. I had forgotten to set the hymnals out in the pews the night before and Frank made me take my panties down and lie over his lap.

He had the ruler in his hand – the one he uses to smack the hands of the kids who act up in Sunday School.

He was scolding me as he punished me saying “You must learn not to displease God by neglecting your church duties.”

And I think that was when I got the first sinful idea that led to the chain of events that followed. As he administered the painful, humiliating spanking, I caught myself saying silently: “Lord, just once, will you let a big strong man come along and rescue me? Just once I’d like to see Frank go over a strong man’s lap and feel what it’s like to have his bare bottom spanked.”

Immediately, I asked the Lord to forgive my sinful thought. But it was too late. It was out there and I guess the Devil must have heard it.

Later, Frank gave his sermon as usual. But from the choir loft where I sat, I noticed something that wasn’t normal: A big strong hunk of a man in the first row who kept looking at me.

Now, I may have led a sheltered life, but I knew what was on his mind. He made no secret of it. He kept looking me up and down and smiling wickedly at me.

I looked away, but something made me keep looking back at him. He was dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt that did little to hide those impressive arm muscles, sitting with his legs spread, leering at me with no embarrassment at all. And (Jesus forgive me), I noticed there was a huge bulge in the front of those jeans.

I always had a big heart. When I was in love, I WAS IN LOVE. I was sprung, head over hills, and just soooo deep in it. I never was a cheater and I always loved and honored my man. I always cooked for him, treated him like a king, and made sure I kept my sex game on point. Well, I did all that until he dissed me or cheated on me, which seemed to happen a lot when I was a teenager; but luckily, that never stopped me from loving the next man.

I have learned a lot of lessons growing up. Number One: I learned to never judge a book by its cover. And when I say book, I mean men. You never know what type of man you will meet. Just because a guy looks good and seems nice, DOESN’T MEAN A DAMN THING! Just because he comes off as a good man doesn’t mean that he won’t hurt you in the worse possible way later on down the line. Also just because a man has a “street” profession doesn’t necessarily mean that he will cheat on you, get you pregnant, and leave you in a heartbeat. Not all “street men” are the stereotypical type of thug. They don’t all hang out on street corners, they don’t all disrespect women and only want them for their pussy, and they don’t all dress dirty and sag their pants.

Number Two: I have learned that not all friends are good ones. HA! I just laughed when I said that because I had to find that out the hard way. Boy have I had lots of problems with so called friends. I’ve gotten into fights which could’ve led to homicides, I got sliced with razors, I helped a “friend” in need which could’ve landed me and my man in prison, I've been called all kinds of names, and I have done all I could to help my friends; but never really got that in return.

And Number Three: I learned that everything that happens in your life happens for a reason. I have been to hell and back since I was a teenager. I suffered a lot of pain because of the terrible things that men have done to me, I have lost loved ones, gotten pregnant, and have come close to losing my life more than once; and all that was before I reached age 19. But through all the pain, tears, violence, heart ache, sadness, and liquor, I can say that I’m happy it all happened. Because what has happened to me during my short life, is what brought me to be the loving, caring, and happy woman that I am today. Because of the horrible and sad things that have happened to me, I have met some really good people; people that I would do anything and everything for, which would do the same for me in return.

Following is an unedited excerpt from this upcoming book:

Finally, I also chatted with Lucy (from Off the Chain Volume 2) to finalize plans for me to bring my cat Tiger to her. All the girls were out of the house with the baby living with her mom full-time, my middlin’ at Miami of Ohio and the oldest at University of Cincinnati so I got stuck with the cats.

Blue furred Simba was run over by a car, ruddy Kofu ran away, but red-stripped Tiger was much more careful and street savvy than his littermates so he was a permanent fixture in my home. Now don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want anything to happen to the cat because I loved him more than my kids. However, Tiger was an Abyssinian and cat lovers know that an Abby will wear you the fuck out wanting attention.

So since the girls were gone the only person the cat could suck attention from was me and I just didn’t have the time. However, a bigger problem that I had with Tiger was that he was a pimp so he would compete with me for my women’s attention and most of the time he won. That shit would piss me off. So the cat had to go and Lucy (who Tiger had pimped out a couple of years prior) was all too happy to have him.

Now I know ya’ll think I’m joking about me competing with my cat for female’s attention but I’m not. Let me digress for a moment and share a bit of detail about Tiger.

Upon my arrival back to Flint from Cali, I was rudely reacquainted with the small town attitudes that I'd long forgotten. I was just returning home from the Marine Corps, and I'd been gone for four years.

The time I spent in Cali was a real eye opener, not to mention a confidence builder. I'd grown accustomed to being treated with respect, if not a certain degree of indifference when it came to approaching attractive women. So imagine my surprise when I returned home to find women who weren't exactly beauty queens behaving like total divas.

Mind you, I'm not exactly chopped liver in the looks department, so I have had more than my share of pretty women. I simply didn't expect so many average to below average looking women to come with so much attitude.

While in Cali, it was nothing to have two or three prospective bed-mates in one night at the same club, so I knew I had some game, but back in Flint, I was getting snubbed with disturbing regularity. I guess what was most disconcerting was the fact that most of these chicks wouldn't even warrant a second glance in Cali.

I'd grown accustomed to polite, well mannered sista's, even when being turned down, but this was something else; a bunch of average looking , but stuck up, even some arrogant and downright rude women.

While this didn't shake my confidence, it still pissed me off enough to decide on leaving the city while out clubbing. After going to clubs in surrounding areas; Detroit, Lansing, even Pontiac, I was now convinced that this was definitely a Flint phenomena.

So while out at a club with my homies one Saturday night, I ran into my little sis. She hadn't seen me since I was home, and came up giving me a big hug and kiss. I heard her friend say "damn Deb, who the fuck is that?" Girl that's my big brother. Her friend, an old classmate of mine whom I hadn't seen in years, didn't recognize me.

Her name was Bridget, and she was, to put it politely, mot the prettiest of women, but her body, was somewhere between Serena and Venus, but more towards Serena. I would later find out that this was not only her best friend, but also her roommate.

A few weeks passed and I visited my sister's home several times, and each time I did, Bridget would talk "shit" to me, like ooh girl your brother is fine, but I'd rock his world. I always laughed this off, as I knew she simply wasn't my type.


The year was 1984, I had just gotten out of boot camp, and was back in town for what was supposed to be 10 days, but because an ice storm grounded all flights, I ended up staying a total of 26 days.

Being in boot camp listening to all the tall tales about pussy and conquests had me rethinking the pact I'd made with myself to wait until I was married.

It was the day after Christmas, and me and the fellas had been to at least three dud parties, my homie with the car turned in early, so we were left to wander the streets on foot. It wasn't so bad, except every party we went to were so lame; bad systems, ugly chicks, no heat, you name it, and we had to deal with it.

After the fourth bad party, I'd had enough; I'm headin' home y'all, I told the fellas. No sooner had I gotten home than my oldest sis came through wanting me to attend a party a friend of mine was throwing up the street from my house.

<!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} -->

This is the beginning of a mini-series. I am not sure where I will go or how it will end; it will be based on feedback from the readers.

     Keisha was devastated when she found the DVD that had a movie of Antonio and what looked like some of his buddies, gangbanging some bitch. She sat there in her car breathing heavily and tears rolling down her face. Normally she kept her hair, nails and makeup immaculate but right now she was hurt, she was angry and she was lost. Her first inclination was to drive to that bitch’s house and give her a first class beat-down.

     ‘Hey Keisha, how are you doing girl?’ someone shouted from across the street. Quickly Keisha wiped her face and with her best effort, she replied, ‘Girl I’m fine. How are you and that phat baby of yours?’

      Keisha was happy she did not stop to drag this lame ass conversation on, she had too much on her mind right now for silly bullshit. It’s not like she was even that close to Tonita, she just knew her well enough to speak.

      Right now she needed to put some space between herself and Antonio. So she called him on the cell as she was driving. When he answered she spoke loudly into her phone, ‘Tony you are a sorry motherfucker! You fucked that nasty ass crack bitch didn’t you? Didn’t you? You are a son-of-a-bitch!’

      Tony tried to wait until she got whatever it was out of her system before he responded. He had no idea what she knew so he had to wait until she put her cards on the table. He knew she knew something; he fucked a lot of women, that’s why they called him Pretty Tony.

      ‘Keisha, Keisha will you calm the fuck down and tell me what you are talking about? Did that bitch Terry call the house again with some bullshit? Keisha you know I don’t fuck with that crazy ass bitch anymore.’

      ‘Oh this isn’t Terry you sorry asshole. I found the fucking DVD of you and your boys gangbanging that hoe Gina from the LeFrak City. Don’t fucking lie to me Tony. You fucked that stank bitch didn’t you? Didn’t you motherfucker?’

        Tony knew his best approach was to let this shit die down and explain later. It’s not like he felt anything for Gina. Hell it was a party and she and a few other girls got all high and the next thing he knew everybody was fucking. Women don’t want to hear shit like, ‘It just happened’. In their minds they think you have been sneaking around behind their backs with some women and this wasn’t the first time. Hell as far as he was concerned Gina was just another slut he got to bust a nut in. He loved Keisha but in his own way.

From the moment you called me and told me about the place you were passing in your car on the way to O’Hare, I looked it up on the internet and saw how gorgeous it was; I wanted to meet you there.

We decided to meet at Serenity Springs in Michigan City, Indiana, a romantic get-away out in the rural area near a lake. The moment I see that smile on your face as you exit the plane, I know this will be the best weekend of my life. Both of us hug and squeeze one another so tightly, I can smell your perfume and it excites my soul.

‘Hi JJ, damn I have missed you? How long has it been?’

‘A little over a year, but it feels like much longer.’

I want her to suck my cock…

Sometimes stray thoughts take control of me. Under normal circumstances — that is, if we define “normal” as my typical level of perversion —I prefer giving oral sex to receiving. There is something so wonderful about tasting a woman… about hearing her sigh as my tongue dances back and forth across her clit, across her lips…


The candlelight seemed to caress his toned body as he stood up and pulled his underwear under his semi-rigid cock as he took them off.  Willam had always been a gorgeous man, with black dreads stopping just above his chiseled shoulders.  At 6'5" he was above average in the looks department, with skin that was rich dark chocolate, and eyes a honey brown that had the thickest lashes that she had ever seen on a man.

He licked his lips in anticipation with his head bowed as Mistress' eyes traveled over his body and she had an orgasm when they fell on her mark.  The letter "M" was tattooed on his arm etched forever in his beautiful chocolate skin.

From the fullness of your lips

You drink of me

Savoring my love

As only I can feed it to you

A tender touch as if

Our souls were touching

Becoming one

Your warm breath

Gliding across my legs

And across the length of me while you embrace me


I knocked on Lenorah's door wondering what sight I would be greeted with this time. She put the V in voluptuous and I couldn't wait to see how she had adorned her 44-28-50 frame on this evening. For those of you who think fine women only wear a size five I beg to differ. 

Lenorah had a flighty personality. She was the type of female who was always looking for something new and exciting to do and she would often leave town at the last minute for a trip to the West Indies or a gig with her band.    She continually pressed me for a committed relationship but what she really wanted was a man who would meet her every whim when she decided that she wanted to be in town. I didn't play that shit but I strung her along just enough so that I could hit it. I know it was wrong but it was a lust thing and I had to have what she had to offer.    

Lenorah opened her door and Sergio immediately got hard as he always did in her presence. She wore a frilly white blouse with a plunging v-cut neckline and skintight pocket less jeans that laced in the front and back. "Damn";, I exclaimed appreciatively looking at her coke bottle shape as I walked in and closed her door.  

At last his breathing slowed. “God, that was wonderful,” he said.

“Mmmmmm….” Her voice was almost a purr, her face still buried in the pillow. “Oh, yes, it certainly was. Mmmmmm…”

He had been on his knees, behind her, but now he dropped down beside her on the bed. Her ass was still raised high, and she stretched her legs out and laid on her stomach. He propped up on one elbow. She felt his hand rubbing her back, his fungers sliding through the thick cum all over her back.

“I love the way you look,” he said. “I love the way this looks… thick, white cum, all over your sexy dark skin…”

“You gonna take a picture of that, too? I think you kinda forgot about the camera once you got into a good rythym.”

“I do get distracted, don’t I? But I think the photos I took are going to be very, very nice.”

She put her hand on his chest, and could feel that his heart was still racing. “I know you probably need to go soon,” she said. “But you’re so messy now. Do you want to take a shower?”

“That depends. Are you going to join me?”

“Of course,” she said.

* * * * *

He was first into the shower. The water was perfect: hot, but still comforting. As she stepped through the shower door, he could see her reflection in the mirror. Her body was stunning, and he could see his cum slowly dripping down her back, dripping down between the cheeks of her ass.

She took his hands and placed them on her hips, and he pulled her body next to his. She leaned into the flow of water, wetting her hair, and he was struck by how dark her hair was: jet black, so black that he couldn’t picture anything darker, and yet the water seemed to make it darker still.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, then kissed him. Suddenly he felt his heart quicken. He moved his hands across her hips, around to her ass, rubbing her.

“You know,” she whispered, “You made me all messy. Don’t you think you ought to help me clean up?” She ducked her head under the flowing water, then playfully flicked her head, splashing water on his cheek. She grabbed a bottle of body wash and handed it to him. “Here,” she said. “Let’s start here…” She turned around, facing away from him, arching her back. “Am I all messy?”

“Ohhh, yes….” he said.

Approaching the corner, Adriana glanced at her phone to check the time.

Dammit. Too late. She knew, before she reached the corner, that the bus would be pulling away from the stop, and there was no point in trying to catch it. Sure enough, as she reached the corner, she saw the bus, pulling away fast. Dammit.

It would be another half-hour until the next bus, and it was quickly growing dark. She felt a little uneasy, since she knew that she’d probably be waiting alone. She’d lived in the city for most of her life, and considered herself street smart. It was a good neighborhood, but still, it was a little isolated, and there weren’t many people around at night. 

She turned her gaze away from the departing bus, back to the small shelter at the bus stop. She expected to be alone, but no… there was a man there, his back toward her, and he was also watching the bus drive away. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head slowly, then leaned forward and smacked his head on the rear wall of the shelter… Not hard, really, but solidly enough that it conveyed his frustration: he had really, really wanted to be on that bus.

He turned and, as he did, saw her approaching. He smiled sheepishly, slightly embarrassed at having been observed.

She generally tried to avoid eye contact with strangers, especially men, but she smiled nonetheless.

People are creatures of habit. If you watch someone long enough, you will discover the routines that they are trapped within and you can time some of their actions like clockwork. Case in point. At 5:36pm, Cocoa&rsquo;s car zips around the corner and proceeds to the end of the cul-de-sac where I am parked patiently waiting for her. Cocoa is always home at 5:30pm after work, give or take ten minutes.

As the doors were closing he managed to sneak his hands between them. There was a soft chiming noise and then they opened and up again with a whisper of gears and pulleys. She was standing with her back pressed to the mirrored back of the elevator, her firm ass pressed against the hand rail there. She was wearing a grey pencil skirt and small grey jacket on a black satin blouse.

He quickly admired how her clothes fitted the shape of her. The lines of her body, the swell of her womanhood. Her hair pulled back and her cheekbones defined, yet still soft. He was wearing a brown tweed suit and crisp powder blue shirt, a pale gold tie. Did he feel her eyes on him? Did the shift quickly?

He smiled at her, perfunctory. She smiled back and looked away. He pressed the button for his floor and it lit up with a gentle yellow light. He stood next to her. Her perfume smell had already filled the elevator, all peppery and flowery. He stood next to her and breathed deep. She turned slightly and then turned back to the doors.

Standing waiting in the room blindfolded, awaiting his arrival. He always drags the anticipation out of you. Driving demons through your mind. Will he turn up? Will he be alone? What will you succumb to this time? What are you for? Are you worth this treatment? Do you deserve it? 


Finally he arrives. The door clicks almost imperceptibly and even though he is moving silently your heightened senses feel the air move as he passes you.  


And then nothing. What’s he waiting for? Why is he doing this? He’s just watching you isn’t he? The bastard. Enjoying every second of anguish he can bring. Seconds pass into minutes. You can hear him breathing now, so close to you. Inhaling your aroma. Inspecting you. You know you are meat for him. You know you are destined to belong to him. A toy for his pleasure. It is the path that life has chosen for you.

I’m 15 years old and love having sex with guys older than me.  The oldest guy I had sex with was 18 when I was 13.  I usually seduced them.  Since I was 13 to now, I always seduced men and it always worked.  My latest target was my 28 year old sister’s 30 year old boyfriend, Will.  He was so hot.  6 foot 3 and was well built.  I had heard the two of them having sex, when they thought I wasn’t home.  He was loud.  Very vocal.  I had looked in on them and I saw that he had a huge dick.  I live at their house but my sister was going out with her girlfriends.  This was my opportunity.  I was the girl in school who would have sex with anyone.

RSS feed

Euftis' Mailing List

Gimme your email address for book updates.

Connect with Euftis!

Euftis' Twitter Feed

Next Book