New Release: Second Chance by Selena Kitt
Posted on February 25, 2010
Ty has been hurt by life and has sworn off relationships, but his curiosity is piqued by a motorcycle-riding hunk who comes through his Wal-Mart line and buys the same thing day after day: two Slim Jims, a sixty-four count box of crayons and Cracker Jacks. Ty’s curiosity gets the better of him and he goes out with Jonah, but Ty’s best friend, Lucky, is sure Jonah is bad news, and it does seem that both mens’ pasts threaten their future together. Will they find a second chance with one another?
Warnings: This title contains m/m and anal sex.
Word Count: 10,005
You can also find this story in Excessica’s first gay male anthology: Stuck On You
EXCERPT:
As the electronic front doors parted for me, I hesitated, realizing I didn’t even know his name. He saw me and waved me over, waiting out front just like he said, sitting on the biggest, loudest motorcycle I’d ever seen in my life. It apparently went with the boots.
“Let’s walk!” I yelled over the noise of the engine, hugging my arms across my chest. “It’s just across the street.”
“Are you serious?” He frowned. “Come on, hop on!”
“I can’t ride on that thing!” I hated admitting it, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
“How come?”
“Long story.” I took a step back from the bike as he revved the engine.
“All right.” He rode the motorcycle into a parking space and I walked over to meet him.
“So what’s your name?” I asked as we started across the parking lot.
“Jonah,” he replied, pocketing his keys. “You’re…” He glanced over at me and made a face. “Tybalt? Really?”
“Ty,” I corrected, rolling my eyes and reaching for my name tag. I always forgot about it. I unpinned it and slid it into my pocket.
“Hot-headed?” he asked, putting his arm straight out in front of me to keep me from crossing the street and I smiled at the gesture. We weren’t near an intersection, and Denny’s was directly across, so we had to essentially jaywalk.
“Me?” I laughed, a sound that surprised me. How long had it been since I laughed like that? “I’m more kitten than tiger.”
He gave me a quick, sideways look, but there was a bit of heat in it and I flushed, hurrying after him across the street.
“I just thought…you know, Tybalt, from the play…” He opened the door to Denny’s, holding it and waving me in. “So your mother was a Shakespeare fan?”
“You read Shakespeare?” I watched him signal the hostess. Her eyes widened slightly and lit up when she got a look at him—not that I blamed her. The man was like a walking god in denim and motorcycle boots. But I couldn’t help the stab of jealousy I felt when she came over and greeted him, touching his arm, laughing and tucking her hair behind her ear as she led us to a table.
Me, I couldn’t be so obvious. I sat across from him in the booth and hid behind my menu until she went away with our drink orders—a Coke for me and an iced tea for him—our hostess now doubling as waitress. I wondered bitterly if she’d traded someone for our table.
“‘Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once,’” Jonah quoted, folding his menu and sliding it behind the salt and ketchup.
I blinked at him over my menu. “Are we filming a reality TV version of Pulp Fiction? Are you going to pull out a gun and start talking about righteousness and furious anger?”
He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. “Julius Caesar might have lived if he’d had a gun.”
“You’re certainly well-read.” I raised an eyebrow at him and tried to study my menu. The words were swimming.
“Well…” He shrugged and I was almost pleased to see him looking a little embarrassed. “Actually, I just know that one quote. I thought it was cool back in high school, cowards and valor and all that. I probably just said it to impress you.”
I didn’t say anything as the waitress set down our drinks and tried, again, to flirt with Jonah. He smiled and nodded and told her to come back for our order and I sat there, feeling very pleased with myself for no reason at all.
“My brother’s name is Romeo,” I admitted, peeling open my straw.
“Oh no, you’re kidding me!” Jonah grinned. “Do you have a sister named Juliet?”
“No sisters. Thank god she just had us two.” I snorted. “So is there a story behind your name? A whale, maybe?”
He chuckled, squeezing lemon into his iced tea. “No whales. No brothers or sisters, either. Just me.”
“Your parents?”
He shook his head and shrugged, his eyes on some distant point as he drank. “They’re dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
The appearance of the waitress again kept me from moving past perfunctory platitudes.
Jonah ordered. “Southwestern skillet. Extra spicy.”
And so did I. “Chocolate chip pancakes. Extra syrup.”
I think the waitress finally got the hint, because she disappeared quickly this time.
“Sweet tooth?” Jonah remarked as she left.
“I’m afraid so.” I smiled.
He appraised me slowly. “Doesn’t show.” His gaze moved heatedly, darkly down, pausing at my mouth and I had a feeling he was wishing the table wasn’t in the way of his assessment.
“Fast metabolism.” I shrugged.
“What do you weigh?” He leaned back in his seat, draping his arm across the back of the booth. His bicep was twice the size of my own. At least. “One-fifty?”
“I’m probably half your size.”
He nodded. “Just about.”
“I could never bulk up,” I admitted, sipping my Coke. “I tried pretty hard, too, back in college. What’s your secret?”
The waitress arrived, carrying a tray, and started setting dishes down. Jonah was eating before she’d even set my syrup on the table.
“Well, the military helped,” Jonah went on, ignoring her altogether, his mouth half-full of eggs. “But it’s probably mostly genetics.”
I spread butter liberally on my pancakes. “You’re in the service?”
“Was,” he corrected, waving the waitress away when she went to refill his iced tea.
I hid a smile as I poured syrup. “Army?”
“Navy.” He swallowed, those striking blue eyes sharp again. “What about you? I don’t imagine Wal-Mart is your chosen career path?”
“No.” I shrugged. “But it pays the bills for now.”
I waited for the next obvious question—what do you do? I didn’t want to talk about college, a wasted engineering degree, which would somehow lead to my life with Don and Katie. No, I really didn’t want to talk about any of it.
Instead, Jonah surprised me with a less obvious but even more shocking question: “So, are you out?”
I swallowed a sticky mess of doughy chocolate chips, washing them down with a long drink of Coke that tasted like battery acid and made my eyes water. “Mostly,” I admitted, recovered enough to answer. “Family and friends, but…my job, not so much. You?”
“I, uh…” He grinned, looking sheepish. “I was an equal opportunity sorta guy for a long time. But I’ve sort of narrowed my field of interest over the years.”
I snorted, pushing the pancakes away from me. I was entirely too full already. “Being gay in the Navy is a rather frightening stereotype.”
He winked, scooping up the last bit of his eggs with a spoon. “The Village People just liked the uniforms.”
“Well, I don’t blame them,” I replied, winking back.
His laugh, like everything about him, was irresistible. Then he surprised me again. “I want to take you home.”
His words completely disarmed me and my cock throbbed when I looked into his eyes. I had to admit, I wanted it too. If it had been ten years ago, even five, I probably would have. Instead, I said, “I have to get back to work.”
“I know. Me too,” he agreed, wiping his mouth with a napkin, his eyes never leaving mine. “But I still want to.”
“I’d like to come home with you.” Yes. God, I wanted it, too. What harm was there in the admission? But the silence that followed was dangerous. In that silence, we were already on his bike, back to his place, clothes and trepidation both dispatched. During that pause, we had already sucked and fucked our way to a blissful oblivion. I couldn’t let it go on. Clearing my throat and reaching for the check, I said, “Well, I have to punch back in…”
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Selena Kitt on AUDIO!
Posted on December 30, 2009
Your favorite Selena Kitt audio is now available on AUDIBLE.COM!
Click on the links below to hear Selena read her stories to you!
Every erotica writer will some day face the question, “Did that really happen?” The thought that there might be a glimmer of truth behind the fiction seems more titillating in erotica than any other genre. The truth is, most mystery writers have never experienced anything like a real murder, but almost all erotica writers have presumably had sex, and have certainly been shaped by early experiences. In light of that, what is contained here is a series of short scenes titled “Confessions”-because that’s just what they are, a few of the true stories that shaped my own sexual being.
Are they all completely factual?
I don’t know if a fiction writer ever writes anything that is ever completely fact. Even when we’re journaling, we’re not journalists, after all. Nor are we poets. Fiction writers tell stories, we elaborate, we give the truth “scope.” So while I will say that most, if not all, of these stories did, indeed, happen, in some sense of the word-I have certainly, as most writers do, taken liberties, and changed names to protect the innocent. Or not so innocent.
But these are my confessions, told in the same, secret whisper I might tell them to you if we were alone, sharing the heat of memory in the dark.
BLUEBEARD’S WIFE by SELENA KITT
Tara’s husband has never shared a fantasy with her, or even masturbated – that she knows of. However, this curious wife discovers a phone bill full of phone calls to sex lines and realizes her husband has been living a double life! Instead of getting mad, Tara’s curiosity leads her to begin listening in on John’s steamy conversations in hopes of finding out what he really wants in the bedroom.
After several failed attempts at bringing fantasy to reality, however, a frustrated Tara turns to her much more adventurous best friend, Kelly, for help. A quick psychology 101 diagnosis from Dr. Kelly marks John as having a classic “madonna/whore” complex, and she quickly sets about making plans to rectify this situation. Tara goes along for the ride, hoping that Kelly may have the answer to bridging the seemingly ever-growing gap in her marriage.
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NEW RELEASE: Heidi and the Kaiser
Posted on December 21, 2009
by Selena Kitt
Length: Novella
Heat Level: eXcess 3
Price: $4.99
BDSM/ROMANCE
Mousy little Heidi is a wanna-be designer who works as nothing more than a glorified go-fer for one of the largest and most well-known companies in the world of fashion. When she accidentally stains CEO Warren Kaiser’s pants, she gets two things she didn’t expect—a spanking…and a job. Kaiser hires her as his assistant, and her “training” proves to be quite a test of surrender.
EXCERPT:
Kaiser’s office building was downtown, and between traffic and finding parking, it was 11:58 a.m. by the time she burst through the main doors of the skyscraper to ask where she could find his office at the front desk. It wasn’t until that moment, with the security guard staring at her bare legs, that she realized she was still dressed for the beach in shorts and a t-shirt.
“What floor?” the woman in the pinstriped suit with the short dark bob asked as Heidi slipped onto the elevator.
“Forty-eight,” she murmured, still out of breath.
The numbers seemed to take forever to tick by, people getting on, getting off, and every time she looked at her watch, another minute had passed. By the time the elevator opened at her floor, it was 12:05 p.m. No one got off with her, and as the doors closed behind her, she looked around for a receptionist, but there was no one at the desk.
She adjusted her backpack on her shoulder—to her left was a closed door, and to her right was a hallway. As she stood, shifting from foot to foot and considering, the door to her left opened, revealing Mr. Kaiser looking at his watch.
“Five minutes late, Heidi.” He waved her in. “Come in. Take a seat.” Her belly did a little flip as she brushed by him, putting her backpack on the floor at her feet as she sat in one of the leather, wing-backed chairs facing his desk.
“I’m sorry.” She was still a little breathless as he shut the door and sat across from her. “Lenny didn’t give me your note until this morning.” Digging into her pocket, she pulled out the folded paper and held it out to him—her invitation to be here. He just leaned back, tenting his fingers, looking at the note, and eventually she let it flutter to the desk, clasping her quivering hands in her lap.
“Do you know why I asked you here?”
She shook her head, feeling her ass clenched in the chair, her thighs damp and sticking to the leather.
He frowned. “When you answer me, Heidi, I would appreciate either a spoken ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ followed by ‘Mr. Kaiser’ or ’sir.’ Do you think you can comply?”
“Oh.” She flushed, nodding, and said, “Yes, sir.”
“Now, about the reason I asked you here…” His eyes moved over her face, down to her outfit, very similar to what she had worn the day before. “It is my general impression that you don’t enjoy your job.”
Heidi opened her mouth to deny it and saw him raise his eyebrows, as if he knew what she meant to say. “Yes… sir. That’s true.”
He gave a brief nod. “I thought perhaps we might find something better suited to you at Kaiser.” She stared at him, all the breath gone from her body. Was he going to offer her a job in design?
“Can you type?” he asked, immediately dashing her hopes.
“Yes, sir.” She frowned.
He leaned forward in his chair, folding his hands and resting his arms on the desk. “You may have noticed that I don’t have an office assistant out front? My last secretary was with me for eight years, and I have yet to find a replacement for her. It’s been several months, now, and I admit, I’m becoming frustrated and I really do need someone.”
Heidi took a deep breath, glancing around the office. “I’ve never been anyone’s secretary.”
He shook his head, smiling. “Irrelevant. You have what I need.”
“I… do?” She met his eyes, her breath coming a little faster as she squirmed in her seat. His eyes were dark, moving over her, and she couldn’t help remembering the incident in the bathroom.
“I need someone who can follow orders.” He leaned back in his chair again and she could see the memory of yesterday in his eyes. “Who would be willing to do whatever I asked. You showed me yesterday that you are… quite willing.”
Heidi swallowed, pressing her damp palms to her shorts. “I’m not sure I know what you mean?”
“Yes, you do.” His eyes were smiling. “I compensate very well. You would be my assistant, answering my calls, handing my correspondence and taking care of my professional and personal needs during the day. Would you be interested in such an arrangement?”
It wasn’t the promise if money or the poshness of his office, or even the fact that he was the head of one of the richest fashion companies in the world—it was the way he looked at her, with nothing concealed or disguised. His eyes saw directly through her, and there was no smugness in the way it appeared as if he had her figured out, because he had. They both knew it, and there was only one answer she could give him.
“Yes.” She squeezed her hands together, her legs, too. “Sir.”
He gave her a nod. “Good. I think we’ll both be satisfied with the arrangement.”
Opening the top drawer of his desk, he withdrew a large white envelope and slid it across the blotter. Heidi didn’t know if she should take it or not, so she kept her hands clasped, just looking from him to the envelope.
“This contains general information about Kaiser, which you have already, of course, since you are essentially already in my employ,” he explained. “There is also a contract and information about duties as well as your salary and benefits.”
She nodded, looking at his hand, the buffed, square nails, resting on the stark envelope. Her bottom tingled, remembering how red his palm had been after he spanked her. Shifting in her seat, she crossed one knee over the other, trying to make herself more comfortable with the yearning ache between her legs.
“If, for some reason, you read those over and change your mind…” He nodded toward the envelope. “You simply need to tell me, and you will consequently stay in your current position.”
“I can’t imagine why I would object.”
“No.” He smiled. “I don’t imagine you will. In spite of the apparent haste of my offer, I actually choose my assistants quite carefully.”
Standing, he leaned his palms on the desk blotter, his eyes moving down the front of her t-shirt, looking at her hands in her lap. “Now, there is just the matter of your tardiness.”
Her heart leapt and she met his eyes, feeling faint. “My… tardiness?”
Mr. Kaiser reached underneath the desk and Heidi heard the door behind her lock. The sound made her mouth go dry.
“One of the things that I cannot abide is lateness.” He reached down and unbuckled his belt. She felt faint as she watched it slipping through the loops of his pants. “And you will find that I am quite unorthodox in my methods of discipline.”
He snapped the belt in his hands and she jumped, gasping, her hand going to her throat as she stared at him. Doubling it over, he slapped it against his palm, the belt whistling and then smacking his flesh. Heidi sat and wondered how much it would sting and she wiggled her bottom against the chair.
“It’s a Vincente.” He gave her a small smile. “Italian. Calf-skin, medium weight. Makes a nice sound, doesn’t it?” She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move, all she could seem to do was stare at the belt in his hands as her whole body flushed with a trembling heat.
“Heidi?” He cocked his head, reminding her. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes, sir.” She drew a shaky breath.
“Come here,” he instructed, and she recognized the tone immediately and obeyed, moving around to his side of the desk, amazed that her legs were holding her weight at all given how much they were shaking.
“You remember this?” He tilted her chin up and she met his eyes, nodding. “Everything pulled down and bend over.”
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New Release: A Baumgartner Reunion
Posted on August 10, 2009
A BAUMGARTNER REUNION
By Selena Kitt
www.excessica.com
Length: Novel (63527)
Category: Menage
Heat Level: eXcess 4
Price: $4.99
Ronnie (or “Veronica” as Mrs. B always insisted on calling her) is all grown up with a family of her own, and the Christmas she babysat for the Baumgartners is just a pinpoint in her memory. That is, until a persistent suggestion of a threesome by her husband, T.J., brings it all flooding back. When she reveals how the Baumgartners and the nanny, Gretchen, had seduced her during her time in Key West, her husband takes it upon himself to make some phone calls. Opportunity, or perhaps fate, presents itself, and Ronnie and her husband get an invitation to join Gretchen and the Baumgartners on their vacation. Ronnie finds herself torn, once again, between what she wants and what someone else wants for her – or are they, after all, one in the same?
EXCERPT:
There wasn’t any preparing myself, even if I told myself there was as I stood in front of the mirror and double-checked my hair and make-up, smoothed the brown silk skirt and tucked in my blouse. I was glad I was upstairs when she rang the doorbell. Just hearing her voice made my hands tremble and I pressed them to my thighs to keep them still as I paused at the top of the stairs.
“So nice to meet you!” Gretchen’s smile was for TJ, but her look was just for me, and I knew it. She took a step toward the stairs, meeting my gaze with hungry eyes. I couldn’t help my smile, even though it felt goofy on my face as I came the rest of the way down.
“Gretchen!” Her name felt familiar in my mouth, even after all this time. “You cut your hair!”
She laughed, snaking an arm around my neck and pressing her cheek to mine. “All of them-probably several hundred times since you last saw me, sweetie.”
It was a very brief thing, that hug, but I could smell her hair, still white-blonde but cut into a short bob now, making her thin, pale face look fuller. She smelled fresh and sweet, like clover and oranges. How old was she now? I was doing the math in my head and came to the sum of thirty-four. Five years older than I was. There were the faintest lines around her eyes when she smiled, but she was still Gretchen.
“Come on in out of the cold.” TJ shut the front door against the wind and snow, offering to take Gretchen’s coat. Her dress was short, shimmering black in the lamp light as she shrugged her shoulders and let her coat slide off into TJ’s hands. I knew she’d dressed for me, just like I’d dressed for her-and I think she knew it, too, the way her eyes moved over my blouse, unbuttoned into a suggestive V. She still had much more than I did in that department, the black fabric gathered between her breasts showing quite a bit of cleavage. I noticed TJ noticing as he poured wine and we sat around the kitchen table.
“Oh my god, Ronnie, you look so amazing.” Gretchen smiled a thank you as TJ handed her a glass of wine. “I don’t think you’ve changed at all.”
“You haven’t seen my stretch marks.” I laughed, wrinkling my nose when TJ handed me a glass and setting it aside. “You look the same too-except all your hair is gone!”
“I got too old to get away with it anymore.” She winked, taking a sip and turning appreciative eyes to TJ. “Mmm, this is good!”
“It’s a petite syrah,” TJ said with a nod.
Gretchen raised her eyebrows at him and lifted her little snub nose into the air in a delicate sniff. “And something smells fantastic.” Her eyes were the same bright green, just as mischievous and not likely to miss a thing. Every time she looked my way, I felt it, like a familiar ache.
I took a long drink of wine and grimaced. “TJ’s famous spaghetti-secret recipe, straight from his grandmother in Sicily.”
“I’m so glad you called.” Gretchen sat up and reached over to touch TJ’s hand. It was brief, just a squeeze, but I noticed her long, manicured nails, painted bright red, an uncharacteristic color for her, and it reminded me sharply of Mrs. B. She turned her gaze to me again, and there it was, that feeling like someone had just reached their hand into my belly and twisted. “I’ve thought about you so often.”
I held my empty glass out to TJ, who poured with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve thought about you, too.”
It wasn’t a lie. When I’d first ended things with Gretchen, I thought about her all the time, and I knew it would drive me insane if it didn’t stop, so I did what I needed to do. Vince, the guy I was dating at the time was a personal trainer-gorgeous, ripped, he had a brilliantly rational mind but was more than a little OCD and he taught me how to get rid of Gretchen for good. I’d put a rubber band around my wrist, and every time my thoughts turned to her, I snapped it-hard. Really, really hard. Sounds silly, but it worked. Between that and the incredibly huge eleven inch cock Vince presented me with to handle at every possible occasion-I’ve never had bigger, before or since-it was enough of a distraction to get me through. But the truth was, while it worked to keep me distracted, it didn’t work all the time. No, not all the time.
Both of TJ’s eyebrows were raised at me now and I tried to change the subject. “So, how are the Baumgartners? What’s everyone up to?”
“Oh Ronnie, you wouldn’t believe how big the kids are!” Gretchen smiled, shaking her head. I nodded, remembering them frozen in time: Janie as a gawky almost-twelve and Henry as a typical nine year old boy. Mrs. B had sent me a Christmas card that first year after Gretchen and I broke up, but then I moved, and the mail only got forwarded for so long. I still had that last photo tucked away in a box full of old diaries and journals marked: “Ronnie’s Private: Keep Out.” I remembered Janie’s big front teeth and honey-colored ponytail, Henry’s lopsided smile. Gretchen was still talking “Janie’s just gorgeous, she’s got boys following her around like puppies. And Henry’s huge, like his dad. You’ll see-you’re coming to Key West with us, aren’t you? Carrie said she invited you…”
TJ and I both said “Probably,” and “I don’t know” simultaneously. Gretchen sipped her wine and looked between us, her eyes sharp.
I held my glass out for more wine. “I still can’t think of her as Carrie. To me, she’ll always be Mrs. B.”
TJ poured me half a glass and then got up to check the sauce. I watched him stirring it, feeling warm and flushed and buzzed from way too much wine for me in too short a time. I noticed Gretchen watching him, too, and felt a twinge of something-jealousy?
“So how are Mr. and Mrs. B?” I asked Gretchen as TJ came to the table with a bowl full of spaghetti.
“Doc’s practice is going gangbusters, as always.” Gretchen held her plate out as TJ started to serve dinner. “With that bedside manner, though, go figure, right?” She winked at me and I smiled, remembering Doc’s easy-going teasing, but mostly I remembered his eyes and the way they would follow me around a room wherever I went, as if he could see right through me. It suddenly occurred to me, as TJ sat down, that he and Doc shared a great deal in common when it came to looks and temperament. Funny how I’d never thought of it before.
“Carrie’s real estate business hasn’t done as well recently,” Gretchen sighed. “The market is so bad right now. It’s one of the reasons… well… things are changing for the Baumgartners. And me, too. Kids don’t stay kids-can’t be a nanny forever.”
I nodded, feeling TJ’s knees touch mine under the table as he sat and I gave him a smile. “Still, Gretch, you’ve been with them a long time.”
“I couldn’t turn down the money they offered, Ronnie.” She shrugged, twirling noodles on her plate. “And, you know… all the fringe benefits.”
That hung there, and I wondered if TJ understood as well as I did what she meant. It wasn’t just the trips to Key West and Aspen and the New England Sound. There was so much more to working for Mr. and Mrs. B…
TJ cleared his throat, his eyes moving between us. “So why did you two break up?”
“TJ!” I nudged him under the table, my eyes wide.
“I’m curious…” He shrugged. “Are we not supposed to talk about it?”
“I don’t mind.” Gretchen smiled, but her eyes were pained, and I looked down at my plate, spearing a mushroom. “Ronnie found a boyfriend.”
“The guy I dated before I met you,” I explained, wondering if Vince even remembered my name anymore.
“You know how we girls have a tendency to abandon our girlfriends when a guy shows up,” Gretchen teased. I wanted to say something, but the wine made my head feel fuzzy, as if it were too full.
“What about you, Gretchen?” TJ asked. “Did you find a girlfriend?”
“Or a boyfriend?” I chimed in, feeling desperate.
“Oh several.” Gretchen winked at TJ but the look she gave me was full of a meaning I didn’t understand. “Nothing lasting, though. I could afford to be picky, living with the Baumgartners.”
I tried to imagine what it might have been like, if Gretchen and I had never broken up. Would she have stayed their nanny, then, I wondered? Would we all have been one big, happy family? The thought filled me with a mixture of longing, regret, and a deeper feeling I didn’t even recognize at first-it was anger.
“This is the best spaghetti I’ve ever tasted.” Gretchen’s compliment made TJ blush and I smiled.
“He’s a much better cook than I am.”
“Like Doc?” Gretchen winked.
“Better.” I touched my knee to TJ’s under the table and he looked up at me, his eyes tender. “Although I admit, Doc could make a hell of a sandwich.”
“Mmm god yes.” Gretchen’s tone changed and she gave a low, throaty moan that reminded me immediately what it was like between us. Her eyes met mine and they said it all. “He still can.”
The double entendre didn’t escape any of us. I couldn’t help but remember-not only the night Doc and I snuck downstairs to make sandwiches and, while Mrs. B slept upstairs, he fucked me on the kitchen counter, but also there was the clear memory of being sandwiched between Doc and Mrs. B in more positions than I had ever imagined.
Gretchen’s hand found my knee under the table and squeezed. She leaned forward, eager, earnest. “You are coming aren’t you?”
I shrugged, not looking up. “I don’t know, Gretch…”
“Oh, Ronnie, you have to come,” she pleaded with both voice and eyes. “This is the last summer we’re all going together. Henry’s graduating this year, and I’m… well… things are changing. It would be so good, like old times…”
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Truth or Dare
Posted on May 31, 2009
TRUTH OR DARE
By Selena Kitt
www.excessica.com
Length: Novel (78,608)
Category: Romance, Paranormal, Mystery/Suspense/Thriller
Heat Level: eXcess 2
Price: $5.99
Dare has always been the hothead in the pair – her twin, Nick, he was the calm, cool and collected one. But now Nick is dead, found murdered in their local cemetery, and Dare, on forced leave from her job as a Chicago police officer, goes back to her childhood home to attend the funeral.
It becomes quickly apparent to Dare that the local authorities aren’t being straight with her, or anyone else, about what’s been going on in the little Midwestern town she grew up in. The detective in her kicks in and she decides to find out what—or who—has killed her brother, so she moves in temporarily with her father and stepmother, takes a job in a local bar, and starts asking questions.
Her focus soon fixes on Shane, her brother’s best friend—the town bad boy and bad seed. The tension between the two of them has always been palpable, and nothing has changed. Sparks fly as they collide, and while Dare finds herself sinking in deeper with Shane, the mystery of what happened to her brother—and an ever growing list of victims—grows even stranger.
Dare finds her past haunting her everywhere she goes as she continues to dig deeper into the circumstances of her brother’s death, and her future looms large as her fate as a police officer is about to be determined back in Chicago. With everything coming to a head, she focuses on one thing: What happened the night her brother was killed in the cemetery? She’s sure Shane knows… something… and she’s determined to find out what it is, one way or another.
EXCERPT:
Chris leaned against the wall, away from Shane, while he lined up a shot. Dare watched for a moment, unnoticed. The muscles in Shane’s arms showed, hard and sinewy, beneath the sleeves of his black t-shirt. He was concentrating, the cue stick steady as he leaned over the table, carefully calculating, although it was obviously an easy shot.
Dare grinned mischievously. “Hey guys!”
She clapped Shane, hard, on the back. The motion sent him forward, making the cue stick hit the ball. It rolled about four inches-and stopped.
“Aww.” Dare blinked innocently. “You would have made that, too.”
Shane turned to face her, smiling, but his eyes were cold and dark. She took a step back. Chris did as well, wide-eyed.
“I’m gonna kill you,” he told her in a low voice.
In that moment, as he advanced, she thought he was serious. He grabbed her arm roughly, jerking her toward him.
“Shane,” she gasped. “I was only-”
He pulled her tightly up against him and she tensed, waiting for him to do something, anything-and then he kissed her, his mouth slanting harshly across hers. She opened her eyes wide and gasped in surprise-it was all the opening he needed and his tongue touched hers.
His hold tightened, his hands moving down her uniform and then up the backs of her thighs. She relaxed against him for a moment, stunned, and his mouth grew soft and more gentle but still insistent, his hands wandering upwards. She gave into his hands, responding with a soft moan, letting herself melt against his hardness. She pushed him away only to stop herself, but she still couldn’t break free from the tight circle of his arms.
“Let me go,” she said, unable to keep her voice steady, her eyes narrowing. Surprisingly, he did.
“You’re a goddamned tease,” he gasped, and his eyes looked pained.
“No, I’m not.” She felt herself trembling and hoped he couldn’t see it.
He laughed softly, never taking his eyes from her. Chris watched them open-mouthed, but he wasn’t their only audience. Lee watched them, too, standing near the juke, and Sam’s eyes were glued to the scene as he leaned on his broom.
“Prove it, then.” The dark look in his eyes caught her breath and held it. He stepped in front of her, tilting her slightly quivering chin up with one finger. “Meet me at the path tomorrow at nine.”
She hesitated, looking at him, hating him, hating herself. She regained her voice by swallowing past something lodged in her throat and narrowed her eyes at him, jerking away. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I meet you anywhere.”
His soft laughter followed her as she turned and walked away.
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Confessions
Posted on April 19, 2009
AVAILABLE IN EBOOK AND AUDIO FORMAT!
Every erotica writer will some day face the question, “Did that really happen?” The thought that there might be a glimmer of truth behind the fiction seems more titillating in erotica than any other genre. The truth is, most mystery writers have never experienced anything like a real murder, but almost all erotica writers have presumably had sex, and have certainly been shaped by early experiences. In light of that, what is contained here is a series of short scenes titled “Confessions”-because that’s just what they are, a few of the true stories that shaped my own sexual being.
Are they all completely factual?
I don’t know if a fiction writer ever writes anything that is ever completely fact. Even when we’re journaling, we’re not journalists, after all. Nor are we poets. Fiction writers tell stories, we elaborate, we give the truth scope. So while I will say that most, if not all, of these stories did, indeed, happen, in some sense of the word-I have certainly, as most writers do, taken liberties, and changed names to protect the innocent. Or not so innocent.
But these are my confessions, told in the same, secret whisper I might tell them to you if we were alone, sharing the heat of memory in the dark. These stories were written specifically for audio and recorded by the author. So if you literally want to hear me confess my experiences, you also have that opportunity. I have heard from readers in the past that their own experience was greatly enhanced by the audio version, so you should know that it is available for purchase on audio as well as being available in this ebook version.
EXCERPT:
When I checked out the movies, I was surprised to find that two of them were porn movies! And this wasn’t soft core stuff. How did I know? Well, I put them in, of course. I knew when they’d be home, and I knew I had a few hours before then, so I put the tape in the VCR and started to watch.
It was even more of a turn on, knowing he wanted me to watch, imagining him thinking about me, my jeans crumpled in a ball on the floor, my panties down to my knees, my legs spread and my fingers working my hot little clit as I watched women putting their asses in the air, begging to be fucked, watching huge, hard cocks sliding into wet, open pussies. I came once, fast and hard, but feeling guilty, I turned off the movie and quickly got dressed.
I tried to distract myself. I checked on the baby. He was fine. I ate some of their ice cream and watched MTV. But my eyes kept going to those cases on top of the entertainment center, and the ache between my legs just grew… and grew… Until I couldn’t resist, and I put the movie back in again.
I wasn’t going to touch myself. That’s what I insisted when I put the movie in and sat on the couch. I just wanted to see… but as I watched, I felt myself getting wetter, my whole pussy throbbing.
I rubbed my hand over my jeans, laying back on the couch pillows, twisting with lust as I watched the blonde on the screen sucking his cock, his fingers playing with her hard nipples.I touched my own nipples, making them hard, watching as he bent her over and began to lick her pussy from behind. I couldn’t help it.
I unzipped my jeans and slipped my hand inside, my pussy incredibly hot and wet under my fingers as I began to touch myself. He stood behind her, sliding his cock up and down her wet slit, and I wondered what it would feel like. At sixteen, I still hadn’t had a cock inside of me yet, although I’d had one in my hand and in my mouth. What would it feel like to be fucked, I wondered?
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The Song of Orpheus
Posted on April 19, 2009
Orpheus returns from war to discover Eurydice has been faithful to him, only to lose her again to tragedy. Determined to get her back, he ventures to the Underworld armed with nothing but his famous lyre.
EXCERPT:
“If you spend any more time in there, you’re going to turn into a mermaid!”
Eurydice lifted her dark head from where she was reclining in the water, seeing the centaur pawing at the edge of her stream. “Chiron!” Her eyes widened in surprise and delight. She grinned. “Nymphs aren’t mermaids, horse-boy. You just want to turn everyone half-breed, don’t you?”
The centaur snorted, sounding very horse-like in spite of his human torso. “Not if they all turn out like my brothers. I swear I’m the only civilized one in the lot.”
Eurydice stood, twisting the water out of her long, dark hair, and saw Chiron’s eyes moving over her nude form appreciatively. She smiled at him as she stepped out, patting his chestnut flank as she reached for her wrap. It was the standard Greek dress for women, a long, thin strip of material she wound about her body in an intricate way. It clung to her curves. “You certainly are the best of them. What are you doing here, anyway?”
His dark eyes moved over her body before she finished pulling the material around her and closing it without any fasteners. He cleared his throat, running a hand through his long, dark hair. “Apollo insisted I come for the whole ‘Find Aristaeus a Wife’ shindig, since I was apparently responsible for his birth, or some such rot.”
“Hazards of being an oracle, huh?” Eurydice’s hand moved over the horse’s back, feeling the strong muscles there. “Didn’t you introduce Apollo to Aristaeus’ mother?”
“Not exactly. I think the exact prophecy, as I recall, was Apollo would take the nymph, Cyrene, to Libya, where she would bear him a son, named Aristaeus-he who would become revered among men for his skills with the land and the animals.” Chiron shrugged, looking over his broad shoulder at her. “Eurydice, dear, if you don’t stop petting me like that, my baser natures may just take over.”
“Sorry.” She dropped her hand with a blush. “It’s just such a nice, shiny coat.”
“And you are a glistening star.” His rump swung around as he faced her, stunningly human completely from the waist up. “You know how I have a thing for nymphs.”
“Nymphs are nigh irresistible when we want to be.” She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “So this nymph, Cyrene-how could she travel so far from her domain?”
He gave her a sad look. “She was a Nereid, not a Naiad, like you, my dear.”
“Oh.” Eurydice’s hopeful eyes dropped, and she sat on the bank of the stream with a sigh. “So basically, as long as she was near the sea, she could travel anywhere she wanted?”
“Yes.”
“But I’m stuck here by this little creek.” She sighed, kicking at the water with her foot.
“You love your stream.”
“Yes, well…sometimes I think it does not love me.”
Chiron’s tail swished. “I’m sure there are many men-or half-men-who might settle with you here beside your waters.”
“Oh Chiron…” She reached up and patted his flank. “I love you like a brother, you know that.”
“Well, my dear, there will be plenty of men to choose from at Apollo’s son-worshipping.” He snorted at his own pun and she smiled, shaking her head. “Won’t you at least accompany me? So few give me as much pleasure with their very company as you do.”
She laughed; standing and stretching. “With all the honey you spread with your words, I’m surprised you haven’t attracted more than just flies, horse-boy!”
He grinned. “Wanna go for a ride?”
“I thought you’d never ask!” She eyed his back, long and sleek. Placing her bare foot in the stirrup he made with his hands, she swung her leg over his flank, arranging her robe and settling herself on his back.
“Love that little wiggle.” He glanced over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows at her.
“You’re so bad!” She slapped him near the tail with her hand and his eyes widened.
“Watch it-I like that too much.”
She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist, feeling the hard ridges of muscle in his belly as he began to trot across the stream, carrying her with him. He was a fine specimen, really, of man and equine, and while he’d made it known on several occasions he would settle by the stream with her, she doubted he could do so for long.
There was too much in him that loved liberty and the freedom of roaming. He was, by no means, the wild half-breeds his brothers had proved themselves to be-but Chiron had an undeniable love for adventure, and Eurydice couldn’t roam any further than her stream itself did. Roaming too far from home would force her to wither and die, like a grape left off the vine in the sun.
However, a secret longing burned in her belly, and it wasn’t for Chiron. It wasn’t for any man she had ever met, but she just knew she would know him when she found him. She yearned to find the man she would be willing to follow, regardless of her circumstances. He existed, somewhere, she was sure of it-the man she would sacrifice everything for.
Eurydice saw something out of the corner of her eye and squeezed her thighs around Chiron’s sides. He gave a distinctly whinny-like sound. “Hey!”
“I think I just saw Melina!” She urged him left, and he cantered that way, towards a clearing. Sure enough, her friend was standing in the field, her arms held up to the sky. “Wait, Chiron!” Eurydice grabbed his long, dark hair as if it were a mane, pulling back and he slowed, shaking his head and glancing over his shoulder at her.
“What was that for?”
“She’s taming the bees.”
“She’s what?”
Eurydice dismounted, sliding to the ground. “Stay here for a moment. You’ll see.” She approached her friend quietly, her bare feet making no sound on the soft grass. Melina covered with a carpet of bees, the softly buzzing insects crawling over her skin from head to toe. When she had first seen Melina performing this trick a few years ago, Eurydice had panicked, running forward and waving her arms wildly, trying to make the bees scatter. She winced at the memory. She had caused her new friend several unnecessary stings that day-but Melina had taken it in stride, and they had spent a nice afternoon doctoring her wounds and chatting in Melina’s little cottage.
“Melina?” Eurydice called softly, still keeping her distance. The woman’s eyes opened and she stared out at her friend from two blue eyes lost in a moving blanket of insects. Eurydice thought she caught the hint of her smile, and then Melina started to spin. It began slowly, her bare feet shuffling on the grass, her steps minute and perfected. The insects started to rise, a few at a time, then in larger numbers as she turned faster, her arms thrown out to her sides. Soon she was spinning like a top, her blonde hair revealed now and whirling around her face in a cloud as the bees took flight, going off again on their daily business.
Chiron came up behind Eurydice, pawing the ground. “That’s impressive!”
“She does it every day.” Eurydice shook her head, her smile bemused. “Melina, this is Chiron, the centaur. Chiron, this is my friend, Melina.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Chiron bent one jointed leg and bowed his head briefly. “May I ask…what is the purpose of that daily death-defying stunt?”
“I’m just keeping them happy.” Melina smiled from where she had collapsed on the ground, still gently shaking her head free from a bee or two. They buzzed gently around her face, but she showed no sign of fear. In fact, they seemed to kiss her cheek before taking flight again with their brothers and sisters. “Angry bees don’t produce good honey. Happy bees are good workers. They love being seen for the magical beings they are.”
“Is that so?”
“Chiron is taking me over to a festival Apollo is having for his son.” Eurydice held a hand out to her friend. “Do you want to come with us?” Melina took the outstretched hand, looking askance at the half-man, half-horse. “Do I have to ride?”
“You’ll let bees crawl all over you, but you’re afraid of horses?” Eurydice laughed.
“It’s not the horse ride itself…” Melina shrugged, giving Chiron an apologetic smile. “I’m more afraid of the falling off.”
“I’ll go slowly.” He winked, making his hands into a stirrup again. Eurydice helped Melina mount first then swung herself up behind her, putting her arms around the other woman’s waist.
“You said you’d go slowly!” Melina squealed and grasped Chiron tightly around the middle as he galloped over the field. She buried her face in his back, and he rumbled laughter as he leapt nimbly across a small stream.
“But then I wouldn’t have two beautiful women clinging to me, would I?” Chiron slowed, grinning back at them with a wink.
Eurydice smacked his rear. “You are bad!”
“It’s part of my nature.” He shrugged, but his smile never faded. “And we can’t help our natures can we?”
Eurydice sighed, thinking of her attachment to her stream. “I suppose so.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Melina dared to peek around Chiron’s broad back to see where they were going. “I think people can change.”
“Spoken like a true mortal!” Chiron laughed; the sound rumbling through him. Eurydice could feel it between her thighs.
“Come on, horsie.” She squeezed her legs around him, digging her knees in. “Play nice.”
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New Release: Stargazing
Posted on March 31, 2009
Turn up your collar, feather your hair, put that big comb in your back pocket, and splash on some Polo, because we’re going back to high school in the ’80’s! Sara is obsessed with pop star Tyler Vincent, and as she nears the end of her senior year, she’s determined to find a way to be with him – although her best friend, Aimee, keeps telling her to find a different escape from her desperately violent home life.
Complications arise when Dale, the mysterious new transfer student, sets his sights on Sara, and she falls for this rock-star-in-the-making in spite of her better judgment. When Sara wins a contest, she is faced with a choice – travel to Tyler Vincent’s home town to meet him, or stay and support Dale in a Battle-of-the-Bands hosted by MTV. Their triangulated relationship is pushed to its breaking point, but there is another, deeper secret that Dale’s been keeping that just may break things wide open…
EXCERPT:
“So, I didn’t see you carry anything in for me,” Dale said. “Does that mean its small enough to fit in your pocket, or that you didn’t get me anything because I’ve been such a bad boy?” He nuzzled my neck and sent goose bumps down my arms.
“Actually, neither. It’s already here,” I said. He raised his eyebrows at me. “And it’s not totally from me.”
“Oh?”
“Well, John and I split the cost, actually. I used the babysitting money I’ve been saving for a couple of years, but I still didn’t have enough, so your dad helped out.”
His eyes widened. “Holy cow, what did you get me, a Porsche?”
“Not exactly.” I grinned. “Something better. Close your eyes and I’ll show you.”
Dale dutifully closed his eyes and I helped him to his feet, leading him back to John’s room. I sat him down on the bed and closed the door.
“Are you sure my Christmas gift is in here, or is this just a ploy to get me alone?”
I laughed, opening the closet door. “Are you ready?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay.” I pulled off the towels and clothes we had covered it with. “You can open your eyes.”
He did, and his eyes widened, his jaw dropping. He sat there like that for a full ten seconds, stunned.
“I… you… wow!”
I laughed, clapping my hands. “You really like it?”
“Like it?” Dale stood and swung me into his arms. “You are the sweetest, most generous, most wonderful girl in the world. Thank you.” He hugged me close. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” I said against his neck. “Now you don’t have an excuse not to enter the Battle of the Bands.”
“I can’t believe you did this. Amplifiers cost a small fortune. You must have spent your life savings,” he said into my hair, hugging me so close it was hard to breathe.
“Almost,” I said. “But you’re worth every penny.”
He kissed me then, taking my breath as always. I felt his heart beating against mine.
“Are you ready for yours?” he whispered near my ear.
“My what?” I asked, a little dazed from his kiss. He grinned.
“Come on.” He led me back into the living room. I sat on the floor while he dug around under the tree. He pulled out a long black velvet box and my heart sank at the sight of it. He came to sit next to me.
“I know we talked about it and said we didn’t want to make a commitment. Because we’re still in high school, and you’re going away to college, and Tyler Vincent, and me trying to make it in the music business,” he started, holding my hand and the box in the other.
He paused and I looked at him. Don’t do this, I pleaded silently and he smiled a little sheepishly.
“But-?” I said for him.
“I want you to know this isn’t like that. This is…this is to show you that I understand… about your feelings for Tyler Vincent. And about me.”
I took the box from him and hesitated before opening it, a little afraid. It creaked open and I gasped aloud, lifting the heart-shaped locket out, holding it up on tented fingers. The gold shone in the light and a diamond sparkled in its top left corner.
“Oh, Dale,” I whispered, laying it in my palm.
“Open it,” he encouraged.
“There’s more?” I lifted the tiny latch and opened the heart. On the left side was a picture of Dale, looking a little younger but much the same. On the right side was a picture of Tyler Vincent. I felt tears well and couldn’t keep them from falling.
“Hey, don’t cry. Don’t you like it?” he asked, concerned, touching my cheek.
I hugged him hard and fast, surprising him a little I think. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered against his shirt. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve a great deal more than this, beautiful, and I intend to give it to you.” He clutched me tightly.
“Will you put it on me?” I pulled away to hand the locket to him and lifted my hair. He put it around my neck and took a moment to do the clasp. I felt his breath touch the tiny hairs on the nape of my neck. I let my hair fall and turned to look at him.
“Dale.” I said his name quietly, running my hand along his jaw. “Thank you. For this. For understanding. For everything.”
“Do I have to say you’re welcome? You’re always welcome.” He opened his arms and I went to him.
It was the best Christmas of my life, and I wanted to give him more. Our mouths met, the heat of his body like a shock as he pressed me to the floor with the weight of him. There was no in between with Dale-it was all or nothing. His mouth demanded it, his hands, too, and most of all, the heat of him, hard and insistent, against my hip through the denim of his jeans.
We had spent too many nights like this, fumbling and touching and coming, oh, so very close, until I managed to whisper, “No, wait, wait!” and we were left gasping and feeling a little empty as we dressed, staring at the ceiling. Not tonight. Tonight I was like liquid under him, something soft and pliable and yielding.
“God, Sara,” he moaned when I unzipped him, something I’d never done without his prompting. The heat filling my hand was incredible, throbbing with his pulse. The way the skin seemed to slide up over the head and down again, it was like something alive all on its own. It responded on its own, too, swelling in my hand as I squeezed and tugged, the tip leaking a little.
Dale’s hands moved under my sweater, pushing up the bulk of material and seeking my flesh. I loved his hands, his rough fingers, calloused from years of guitar playing, rubbing over my belly, up to my bra. He had become an expert with my bras, and this one was a quick front-hook solution, no puzzle at all. My breasts were free to his touch and his gaze, and he sank against them with a soft sigh…
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New Release: The Real Mother Goose
Posted on March 1, 2009
THE REAL MOTHER GOOSE
By Selena Kitt
www.excessica.com
Length: Novel (36,800)
Category: Romance, Fantasy, BDSM
Heat Level: eXcess 4
Price: $4.99
Settle yourself in for a wicked bed time story, a hot, wild ride through nursery rhymes like you’ve never heard them before. Set in a fantastical world where the privileged few own and raise sex slaves like beloved pets, Mother herself is the star of the show, wielding a riding crop and taking care of and training her young charges with a firm and skillful hand. But where has Father Goose wandered off to, and who will take Mother in hand when she ventures too far?
EXCERPT FROM THE REAL MOTHER GOOSE:
Little Bo Peep
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
And can’t tell where to find them.
Leave them alone,
And they’ll come home,
Wagging their tails behind them.
“Peep!” The voice shook the room and the startled girl looked up as Mother came in. “Do you know where your sheep are now?”
“No, Mother.” The girl looked up from her position, kneeling on the floor, her blue eyes wide. “I penned them before I left, I swear it.”
Mother Goose came toward her, the high heels of her soft boots clicking on the floor. She squatted down before Peep, whose hands were bound behind her to her feet with pink satin sashes.
“You are a pretty little one,” Mother said, lifting the girl’s chin and studying her face. Mother’s eyes moved over the girl’s body, the pink and white corset drawn tight, her blonde curls spilling over her shoulders, partially hiding Peep’s rosy little nipples. “Sometimes I think you’re just playing dumb.”
“No, Mother,” Peep implored, shaking her head. “I penned them, I promise you.”
“Is that so?” Mother asked, standing again. Peep looked up Mother’s long legs, encased in black fishnet stockings and garters, the dark triangle between her legs exposed, as it always was, for easy access.
Mother had taken to wearing black since Father had crossed over, and her mood was ever changeable, but lately she seemed often cross and hard to please. Mother tapped her toe in front of Peep’s knee, folding her arms over her ample breasts that were pushed up high in her black corset, but covered with the sheer, lace peignoir that she always wore, unbuttoned to the floor.
“Mother, please,” Peep pleaded. “I will go tend them, if you let me.”
Mother walked over to the cabinet and the girl moaned, the sound caught halfway between regret and anticipation. “I think we need a little correction, don’t you?” Mother’s voice drifted over her shoulder as she chose a small cat o’nine tails from her collection.
“Please,” Peep pleaded again, her eyes downcast. “I’ll be a good girl.”
“Yes,” Mother murmured, coming to caress the her cheek with her soft hand. “You will.”
Mother reached behind the girl and began untying the pink satin ribbon that bound her. Peep sighed in relief, rolling her tired shoulders once her arms were free. She leaned forward onto her hands and knees as Mother began to untie her feet, but then the older woman stopped.
“No… this is good,” Mother said, tightening the sashes at the girl’s ankles, chuckling. “Turn around, Little Bo Peep, who’s lost her sheep, and doesn’t know were to find them.”
Peep did as she was told, turning her face toward the wall on her hands and knees, using her hands to slowly work herself around. She felt Mother’s hand caressing her ass, and she shivered, looking back over her shoulder at the older woman. Mother was squatting down behind her, beginning to drip the many straps of the cat o’nine tails over Peep’s behind like a little leather waterfall.
“Peep’s little puss,” Mother whispered, parting the dark blonde fuzz with her fingers to peer in at the pink treasure. “I love peeping at Peep’s little puss.” Mother giggled, wiggling her fingers through and finding the girl’s clit.
“Oh, Mother!” Peep moaned, lifting her bottom in the air as much as she could with her feet tied together at the ankles.
“That’s right, Peep,” Mother encouraged, with her finger and her voice. The girl’s clit was swollen and pulsing. “You like it so much, don’t you?”
Peep nodded, glad her long blonde hair was covering her red, flushed face. Mother’s fingers were rubbing there, making her moan with pleasure. Peep’s little puss was incredibly responsive, her lips swelling, the pink color deepening to a rosier shade.
“You’ve been a naughty shepherdess, haven’t you, Peep?” Mother asked, standing behind her. The girl nodded, her blonde hair falling in waves falling over the stone floor. She felt the first blow from the cat o’nine tails, almost a gentle thing, with just a little sting. She twisted and squirmed.
“Oh, Mother, please,” Peep whispered. Her pussy was still throbbing from the older woman’s attention.
“Yes, tell me.” Another blow, and then another. Mother waited.
“I lost my sheep,” the girl sobbed, feeling another blow, and then another. Her bottom felt hot. She cried out as she felt three more stings from the cat o’nine tails in quick succession. “Oh, Mother! Please!”
But the older woman was catching a rhythm, now, and Peep could hear her working hard. She lashed the girl again and again, until Peep’s bottom felt red and raw and huge, and her pussy-it was on fire, throbbing with longing. She hid her shamed face behind her curtain of hair, her tears falling onto the stone floor.
“Now, are you going to find those sheep, Miss Peep?” Mother asked, grabbing the girl by the hair and pulling her head back, looking down at her tear-stained face. Peep nodded, moaning softly, looking dazed, her eyes glassy. “But first, you are going to do penance, aren’t you? On your knees.”
Peep nodded, tears still streaming down her rosy cheeks. “Yes, Mother.”
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New Release: Unfolding
Posted on February 24, 2009
UNFOLDING
By Selena Kitt
www.excessica.com
Length: Novel (35,985)
Category: Menage
Heat Level: eXcess 3
Price: $4.99
Charlie lives an average life in an ordinary home, and she isn’t complaining. Jack is a good husband and they have beautiful children—but when she discovers her penchant for a secret taboo, she finds that it suddenly turns her sex life from a mundane distraction into a mind-blowing, transcendent experience. This is the story of a woman’s exquisite unfolding, as her sexual discovery and yearning for something more pushes she and her man to the edge, testing boundaries and forcing her to surrender to something much deeper than herself.
EXCERPT:
When Jack said, “We’re taking a vacation,” I just stared at him like he had three heads. Vacation? What was that? We hadn’t taken time off or gone anywhere alone since before the kids were born. Who would take care of the house, the dog, the kids, water the plants, how would we get time off work?
“Tomorrow.” Jack hid a grin behind his coffee mug.
I turned from the dishwasher, standing there dripping water from a plate onto the floor, open-mouthed.
“It’s all arranged,” he said. “We’re not going far. Friday through Sunday, so we don’t have to take time off work.”
“The kids-” I started, but he shook his head, really grinning now.
“All handled, I told you.” His eyes were shining. “All you need to do is pack.”
I put the plate in the dishwasher, grabbing a towel to wipe up the floor, absorbing everything he had said. It wasn’t like Jack to be spontaneous or cryptic. I was both excited and anxious, and when I looked up from the floor, he was still grinning.
“What kind of weather do I pack for?” I asked faintly.
Standing, he stretched and winked at me. “If I were you, I’d pack a lot of underwear.”
I could feel a heat creeping through my chest as his dark eyes met mine and I fully understood his meaning.
He turned to go out to the living room and said over his shoulder, “Oh, there’s a little present for you upstairs on the bed.”
It was in a huge round black velvet-covered box-almost like a hat box-except what I found inside wasn’t hats. There were four different panty and bra sets-black, red, white and pink. There were also thigh highs to match, including a pair of black fishnets that caught my eye and made my breath catch. So this is what he meant by underwear. There was also a pair of black, four inch high heels.
The real surprise was at the bottom of the box-a clear gel-like rabbit vibrator, a glass/latex butt plug, and five tubes of K-Y. Five! I sat on the bed, pressing my hands to my cheeks to cool them. My pussy twinged and my ass clenched. Now I knew why it didn’t matter where we were going, or that we weren’t going far. We were obviously not going to leave the room very much!
* * * *
I didn’t carry the velvet hatbox into the hotel. I packed everything into my rolling bag, including the new toys and the KY. (I was careful to seal those in two Ziploc bags, just in case!) I was wearing an outfit that Jack had requested before we left, a white t-shirt and a black skirt that didn’t quite come my knees-no bra, no stockings and no panties.
Rolling my bag behind me, I felt completely naked, my four inch heels clicking on the tile as we paused to check in. I felt a little like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, minus the blonde Cleopatra wig, as I followed Jack in his suit up to the counter. I couldn’t count the looks I’d gotten on the way in, and it was only about seventy feet from the valet to the desk.
“Here you are, Mr. Thompson.” The young clerk handed Jack two pass cards. His eyes were on my chest, and I knew my nipples were hard after coming in from the heat into the air conditioning. “I hope you and your lovely wife have a nice stay.”
I smiled, flushing. “Thanks.”
Jack slipped his arm around my waist, steering me toward the elevators. Upstairs, he told me to go into the bathroom and change.
“What color?” I asked with a smile rolling my bag behind me.
He sat on the bed, contemplating. “Come here.” He crooked his finger at me.
I walked over to the bed, still getting used to the height of the heels, and stopped in front of him. Pulling me between his thighs, his hands ran up the smooth, bare skin of my legs, under my skirt, squeezing my ass.
“Ready for your vacation?” He rested his chin on my belly and lookied up at me.
“I’m not sure.” I bit my lip. “I still don’t know what you have in mind.”
He smiled. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk out that door. They’ll have to bring in an ambulance with an IV just to re-hydrate you.”
“Really?” I gasped, feeling his fingers working between my pussy lips, seeking the moist heat there.
“But I’m not just going to fuck this pretty little cunt.” He slipped his fingers inside and forced my thighs a little further apart. I gasped and wiggled, feeling speared on his hand between my legs. Then, he moved his fingers, dragging the wetness with him through the crack of my ass.
“I’m going to fuck this hot, tight little asshole.” He searched for and found that soft, humid crease, sliding one finger into my ass, making me moan. “We’re going to use every bottle of KY that we brought and have to go buy more.”
“Are you ready for that?” His finger moved in and out of my ass, up to the first knuckle, his eyes on mine. I nodded, gasping, clenching my ass and squeezing his finger.
“Yes,” I moaned, spreading my legs as wide as my skirt would allow.
“Good.” He grinned and I groaned when he slid his finger out. “Go get changed. Black bra, white panties, black fishnets, and the shoes.”
I stumbled back, catching myself on one of the dressers and grabbing the handle of my bag, rolling it with me into the bathroom. My hands trembled as I pulled out the clothes he requested, wondering at it. The panties were just white cotton with a lace edging and a little satin bow on the front. The bra, however, was a black lace thing that just screamed “whore.”
It seemed a strange combination, but I put it all on, glancing at myself in the mirror over the sink. It was a three-way thing, and I could see myself from every angle as I turned, red curls falling around my flushed cheeks as I made my adjustments.
When I came out of the bedroom, he was naked on the bed, a few pillows tucked behind his head. His eyes lit up when he saw me and he let out a low whistle.
“Where’s the KY?” he asked.
I smiled, bringing the bag out from behind my back. I was more than ready. I tossed it toward him and he caught it, opening the Ziploc bags and fishing out the tubes.
He threw one back at me. “For the bathroom. Leave it on the counter.”
I walked back to the bathroom, still just a little unsteady in the heels, peeking around the corner to put the KY next to the sink. When I turned back, Jack was pacing, tossing pillows around the room. He threw a bottle of KY next to the two pillows on the floor, one on each side of the bed. He put one on each night table.
“What are you doing?” I put my hands on my hips and cocked my head at him.
“Tactical maneuvers.” He looked over at me with a grin. “Reinforcing my supply lines.”
I laughed, shaking my head. He sat on the bed, crooking his finger at me again, and with a sense of deja-vu, I came to stand between his thighs. His hands moved over my hips in the white cotton panties and then slid up to my breasts in the black lace bra, pushing my flesh up until it threatened to spill over the top.
“Angel and slut.” His breath was hot against my belly as he kissed me there, and I finally understood his choice in garments. His thumbs rolled over my nipples through the lace and I sighed, arching my back toward him. He licked them through the fabric, making fat circles around and around.
Slipping my hand through his hair, I pulled him closer, moving forward and sitting on his leg, rubbing my pussy over his thigh. I’d been wearing the panties less than five minutes and they were already damp. His cock was hard, brushing against the lace top of my thigh high as I ground my hips against him-the heat of it was incredible.
I reached down and tugged on his shaft, rubbing my thumb over the tip, making him groan against my breasts with his face buried there. Slowly, I slid down his thigh, kneeling between his legs and looking up at him. His cock was pointing straight at my mouth, as if it knew just what it wanted, and I reached my tongue out for it, licking all around the tip, making it wet.
Jack made a happy noise in his throat, looking down to see himself disappearing into my mouth. I loved sucking his cock, and I knew just what he liked, teasing and licking and even nibbling at first, just at the tip, until he started leaking pre-cum. Then I opened my mouth wide, taking him in as far as I could go, usually about halfway at first, working him deeper and deeper with every pass.
I put my hands behind my back as I sucked him, crossing my arms at the wrists. It was my version of “see, no hands!” and he loved it, grabbing my hair, growling and thrusting, using my mouth and throat for his pleasure. There were times when I could, and did, do this for hours, in various positions, bringing him to a near-boiling point again and again, only to back off for a while, licking his thighs, his balls, his belly, and then starting all over.
Today, though, he clearly had other things in mind, because he grabbed my hair, pulling my lips off his cock. It made a wet pop when it came out of my mouth, and I reached for it with my tongue, whimpering, still wanting that thick thrust in my throat.
“Hungry little slut.” He smiled, taking his cock and rubbing it over my eager lips and tongue. “Is your pussy hungry, too?” I moaned, nodding, touching the crotch of my panties. They weren’t damp anymore-they were soaked.
“I know what else is hungry.” He pulled me to standing. Still wearing the heels, I wavered a little as he stood, turning me and pushing me face forward onto the bed. He spread my thighs wider and then I could feel his hands on my ass, running over the white cotton panties, squeezing the firm, rounded globes of my cheeks.
“You’ve got a hungry little asshole, don’t you, baby?” he whispered, and I moaned when he used his palms to spread my cheeks wide, the panties slipping between the crack. There was something so wicked about it. The shock of it was part of what made it so appealing…
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