Not going to beat the same drum too many more times in a row, but my short novel Rainmaker is part of a fantastic bundle called Rainbow Romance. A. L. Butcher, the bundle curator, interviewed me as part of the promotion. You can find that interview here, in case you’re curious about some of my opinions and thoughts.
My short novel Rainmaker is featured as part of the Rainbow Romance bundle, now available at BundleRabbit and at the major retailers. Details and links below. Continue reading “Rainbow Romance Bundle”
Most of my freshman year of college was lonely. I have no idea how I survived the first semester. Studying came naturally for me, and that’s mostly how I spent my time. I shut myself in the dorm room, turned on the radio for some noise, and hit the books. Got good grades. Didn’t meet any girls.
But I did okay. My dorm mate was a party animal, so he’d be out late and often didn’t come back to the dorm. I had warm food, good music to listen to, and books to keep me company.
The only thing I really missed from home was a truly private place to masturbate. With the paper thin walls, you heard what everybody in the building was doing. I was self-conscious for a long time.
Until one night during the spring semester, when the snow was beginning to melt, I just really needed to rub one out. Badly. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: Studying for the Exam”
Three hours, seven minutes, forty-seven seconds. Favor for a favor.
Allan came prepared to give Bethany what she needs. He’d do anything for her, his best friend, two steps short of being his girlfriend. But now, sitting in her living room, her breasts practically falling out of her tank top, the moment of truth arrives.
Anything. But for writing Bethany’s college term paper, Allan won’t work for free. He knows exactly how much time he put into the paper, and how much time she owes him.
Three hours, seven minutes, forty-seven seconds. Continue reading “Humpday Story: Charging Her by the Hour”
You close the blinds partially. Late afternoon sunlight streams through on the Egyptian cotton bedsheets. Nobody should be able to see through the cracks in the blinds, not if they’re casually walking by. But you like to think a persistent peeping Tom will stroll past.
On an adults only cruise ship, things like that happen. Right?
The smell of dripping coffee permeates the little room. You have low expectations of what it will taste like, but it will be hot and bitter and it’ll hit the spot right where you need it.
You’re wearing the blue two-piece bikini you bought on a lark last spring, as motivation to lose weight. You still think the scale reads the wrong number, and you hate that more than anything. But you love the power to turn heads when you strut by in your high heel wedge sandals. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: Control”
Summer classes done and her panties tucked safely away in her purse, Dr. Jennifer Rice seeks adventure. Something to loosen her up. Shake her to the core.
All she needs—her red convertible, the tightest blue dress she owns, and a sexy pair of heels. A cute cop to pull her over for speeding helps too.
But on the open road, adventure takes some twists and turns Jennifer never anticipated.
If you enjoy hot MFM threesomes featuring police officers, be sure to read A Speedster in High Heels. Continue reading “Humpday Story: A Speedster in High Heels”
The neighbor lady mows her yard about the same time every evening, right after I eat supper and before I steep a pot of tea. I sit in my screened-in sunporch and smell the grass clippings on the steamy summer nights. Usually I read or listen to the radio. Often, very late at night, I take off my clothes and blow a load before bed time.
The house backs up to a forest, and nobody can see me except for Marissa, the cute neighbor.
One night while mowing the grass, she wore a straw hat and a skimpy blue bikini, the top barely concealing her ample bosom, and the bottom rode up her ass crack like floss. I had planned on reading Catcher in the Rye for the first time, but after one long stare at Marissa’s beautiful body, I dropped the book on the floor and forgot about the tea kettle on the stovetop.
She saw me and waved. I waved back, a little embarrassed by the massive bulge popping up in my shorts. I decided to at least pretend to read, pretend to drink tea, and even pretend to be the nice neighbor guy who doesn’t gawk at the girl next door. Wasn’t until she was done mowing that I realized I held the book upside down and my tea had gone stale. I figured she’d put the mower away, and then I could sit in the dark and masturbate.
Instead, Marissa got out her garden hose and watered her flower garden. Then pruned the bushes, bending over enough for me to memorize the curves on her backside. The sunporch got dark, and I turned on the floor lamp so I could “see” my book better, because I needed an excuse.
When she got out a lawn chair and sat with a beer in hand, I realized she could probably see me with the light on. I waved casually, and she saluted me with her beer bottle. Marissa leaned back in her chair, long muscular legs crossed, an amused grin on her face. She clutched one breast, and pretended to adjust the bikini top. Then I knew she’d been watching me the whole time.
I took off my shirt. I’m a long ways from chiseled, but I workout and have nothing to be ashamed of. By the time I tossed my shirt to the side, the amused grin on her face turned into a full on smile with white teeth that flashed in the waning light.
Marissa uncrossed her legs and rolled the beer bottle up one thigh. I just imagined how the cold glass must feel on her skin, and what it would be like I were the one holding the bottle. The tent pole in my pants got a lot stiffer. I pinched my nipples, twisting them, not really even thinking about what I was doing. Would she call the cops? Forever pick a different time to mow her yard?
She pulled at her bikini top, and flashed me one boob. She was lovely and firm, with a large pink nipple.
I popped the button on my jeans, then rubbed my palms down my thighs. Marissa shook a finger at me, shaking her head, and stuck her finger down the other side of her bikini top. She twisted the nipple underneath. I stood up and unzipped my pants in slow motion.
She dropped the beer onto the grass. She flicked her hair back, laughing, and kicked the bottle away with her foot.
Not to let a little spilled beer deter my impromptu strip-tease, I turned around. My jeans fell around my ankles, and I kicked them off. Pulling at my boxers, I turned around to make sure I still had her attention.
Marissa sat on the edge of her lawn chair, the bikini pulled aside and both breasts exposed now.
I slid my boxers off, showing her my ass cheeks. One hand clutching my junk, I spun on my heels. By the time I was turned around, Marissa was fumbling off the bottom half of her bikini. I removed my hand, showing her my rod. She had a lovely triangle patch of hair between legs.
We stared at each other for a long moment, like two kids seeing naked bodies for the first time. I sat back down, and started stroking. Marissa pressed a finger against her clit, and rubbed.
Pretty soon, our mutual masturbation got hot and heavy. She flicked her pearl, and shoved a finger deep into her tunnel. I stroked my shaft with one hand, and massaged my balls with the other. I sped up a little, and she kept pace with me. Then I tried slowing down, but Marissa slouched in her chair and pumped her pussy faster.
Soft moans came from her. I doubt she even knew she was making noise. Precum dripped down my hand. I wasn’t going to make it much longer at this rate. I slouched in my chair, putting one arm behind my head, and using my change in position as an excuse to stop for a moment.
Marissa didn’t seem to want to stop. Faster, more desperate, as if she had an itch she couldn’t scratch. I smacked my member for her, making the noise as loud as I could. The rest of world just sort of blurred away, and Marissa became the center of my tunnel vision.
Then suddenly a squeal erupted from her. She shivered and crossed her legs, breasts bouncing and heaving. Marissa covered her mouth. Face, neck, and upper body bright red, she leaned forward and nearly jumped out of her lawn chair.
Once she settled back down, a big smile from ear to ear, she nodded to me. For a moment I wondered about stage fright. That moment passed quick, and I stroked myself, my cock on fire in a tingly excruciating pleasurable way.
The orgasm started in my balls, and exploded upwards like an uncontrollable quake. A jet of creamy white cum blasted out of me, hit the screen window, and splattered on the floor. I sank in my chair, exhausted and warm.
Marissa stood, wobbly on her feet, and blew me kisses. I blew kisses back and watched her walk into her house.
Ever since then, Marissa and I have gotten together. But lawn mowing is now a chore we both look forward to.
Copyright © 2020 Hermit Muse Publishing
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One night. That’s all Susan asked for. And thankfully, she got it on Tuesday night. One night of ordering Chinese and binge watching Xena. With her favorite blanket, a quiet apartment without a stupid ex-girlfriend, and a bottle of whiskey for later, Susan can’t ask for more.
But the General Tso arrives late. And the goth delivery girl invites herself in for some Xena episodes.
Definitely not the Tuesday night Susan planned. She sees only one way to kick the delivery girl out. Though maybe not for good.
If you enjoy quirky lesbian erotica, be sure to read So Much for Warrior Women. Continue reading “Humpday Story: So Much for Warrior Women”
Being a landlady isn’t fun and games. Especially for a building full of college boys who spend more time partying than studying. But, since I own and live in the building, I got to do what I got to do.
I received the call from 405 at six in the damn morning, long before any of the other tenants even think of waking up. And let’s be clear on something, I hate the dude in 405. He’s the stereotypical frat boy jock, a womanizer, and drunk all the time.
Doesn’t help that he’s continually late with the rent. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: Demanding Rent”