Kay Brandt



Kay Brandt is a seductive storyteller, award-winning adult filmmaker and bestselling author, delivering a passionate blend of story and explicit, graphic content. In the 1990’s her creative expression was writing erotic stage plays like the critically acclaimed “Kiss Me Twisted”, which many years later evolved into the X-rated films, “Cherry episode 1” and “Cherry 2” and then evolved again into “The World of Cherry” ebook series. Since 2009 Kay has written/directed/produced more than forty X-rated films, many winning AVN and XBIZ awards, for top companies like Adam&Eve, Digital Playground, New Sensations and Girlfriends Films. The “Cherry” films, are the two biggest budget lesbian adult films ever made and since their release in 2011 have been deemed erotic classics. Kay’s current creative passions include writing/directing a new genre of adult films based on erotic books. “Safe Landings,” a feature based on Kay’s dramatic romance novel and the epic film based on Selena Kitt’s New York Times bestseller “Babysitting the Baumgartners” are the first two offerings in Adam&Eve’s books-to-films series. She also released her first horror novella, “Soles” through Fido publishing in 2016 and there’s more twisted horror stories coming soon. Share the journey and indulge in the wild fantasy worlds she creates for your pleasure.

Just in case you want to take a peek:


Amazon #1 bestseller for My Mommy’s Got Your Daughter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

 AVN and XBIZ and Nightmoves award-winning writer (screenplays) and director (feature films).


erotic fiction, romance, horror, fantasy, sci-fi, romantic comedy (romcom)



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Elaine’s erotic ritual had begun. Spicy perfume, her favorite lingerie, and a pair of sexy

fuck-me shoes were spread out on the silky bedspread. Alone in her bedroom, the lit candles illuminated the enticing adornments waiting to be layered on Elaine’s gorgeous body. The long, floor length mirror reflected her nude, thirty-nine-year old physique, toned with captivating curves. Elaine admired her shapely legs with black-seamed stockings rolled on to her taut thighs, fit from all the years she’d spent walking up and down aisles in heels. Unlike other flight attendants who chose comfort over style, she didn’t wear flats, no matter how bad her legs ached at the end of a flight. Giving the passengers a little thrill as she passed their seats, flexing sleek calves under sheer stockings, excited her. With a body like hers, turning forty wasn’t so daunting.

Mood shifted from methodical to sultry with the anticipation of a titillating afternoon

with the dashing Michael, Elaine sprayed perfume on her skin—a special scent he’d bought for her in Rome. Michael liked to spoil Elaine on their international layovers with little symbols of their ongoing work affair, buying her gifts not meant to be shared with anyone but him.

He was routinely late for their surreptitious meetings, but Michael promised he’d be

punctual, knowing Elaine had arranged a naughty surprise for him. It was half past noon, and he hadn’t called or left a message about his arrival time. The only message on her phone was from Ryan, her husband, and it went ignored.

Ryan was out of town on one of his frequent business meetings. He was a salesman for a

high-tech company, and between his schedule and Elaine’s constant travel itinerary, they hardly saw each other. He’d been out of town for two days, and was expected to be gone for another three. Elaine had meticulously designed a clandestine routine that flowed with Ryan’s absences, so her affairs wouldn’t suffer from lag time. It was a long-established pattern between Ryan and Elaine, and although she preferred to conduct her extramarital love life while out of the country, she left room for domestic connections, too.

He’d called her more frequently this particular business trip, which bothered Elaine. Ryan

gave Elaine plenty of space, and wasn’t one for checking up on her, or checking in. Her many affairs during their ten year marriage had been hidden well, and her potent ego refused to accept the notion that her secret life would ever be discovered. The last few trips Ryan took, his voice sounded different on the phone and it unnerved her. A trace of insecurity was detected in his normally confident tone, and she’d refused to buy into it. The chances of Ryan receiving truthful answers from Elaine was slim, and he’d learned to accept his wife for what she portrayed, and not for who she really was.

A sudden jolt of fear struck Elaine as she blew out the candles—a sensation completely

out of the norm for her cool disposition—and she found herself dialing Ryan’s number before her rational mind caught up with her impulsiveness.

“Hi honey,” Elaine said with a shake. “Is everything okay?”

Ryan’s casual answer was expected and safe. “Yes, babe, why? Didn’t you listen to my


“No, I’ve been busy. I fly out tomorrow.” Elaine held the phone between her shoulder and

ear, the fuck-me shoes fastened around her ankles. “You know how I get before an international flight.”

“Yes, I do. I wish we could see each other before you leave. I hate not being with you on

your birthday.” Ryan was sincere, as always, dedicated to being her husband. “Is it a direct


“No. We stop in Vegas first and then New York before heading to Spain.”

“There’s a chance I could meet you in Vegas. We could have a quick lunch at the airport

depending on your schedule. It’s only about an hour from my hotel.” His warmth was like a

blanket, even over the phone, smothering Elaine.

“I wish.” A text chimed through. Elaine read Michael’s name and message of arrival on

the screen. “We won’t be on the ground that long.”

“Well, call me later. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And she meant it. She did love Ryan. Having a personal life outside of him, as she often referred to her extramarital activities, only made her love him more—or so she convinced herself. The call with Ryan ended, and Elaine tossed the phone onto the bed. It was time to disconnect and create marital distance. More importantly, it was time for her to finally reveal her special surprise to Michael.

He was just a fling—that’s how Elaine classified Michael at the start of their affair—a

one-night stand on a Tokyo layover—the city where he bought her the fuck-me shoes. He was an unmarried, hardcore romancer who played the seduction game like a blood sport, devouring his female flight crews in large quantities. Michael’s sex drive was relentless, and it didn’t matter to him where his affairs took place, as long as they were out of view from airport security or jealous husbands.

Decorated and respected as an elite commercial pilot for two decades, Michael was quite

a catch, and yet no one had caught him, except for Elaine. The chemistry between them was

unreal, stronger than her previous extra-marital flings, which had short life spans and fizzled quickly. Michael arranged for her to always crew his flights so they could spend layovers screwing in hotel suites. His constant pursuit of her pussy made the steamy situation seem inescapable and Michael had no intentions of letting Elaine go. “It’d take an act of God to stop me from having you,” Michael would tell her, and she’d giggle, loving his drive and dedication to their affair.

Elaine lived dual lives, defending her selfish behavior as a survival technique, and

Michael was her insatiable equal. She’d thrived on the twisted thought that this affair might be the one Ryan uncovered. What fueled her flames wasn’t a point of contemplation—it’s just who she was and if Ryan suspected her, he certainly hadn’t exhibited the will to dig into her inner motivations. Michael brought Elaine close to the edge of exposing her authentic self—too close.

With Michael she was free—with Ryan, she was a habitually unfaithful wife.

Nothing was heard in the house beyond her heartbeat and the tap of the fuck-me heels on

the marble floors as she went to greet Michael. His masculine outline showed through the etched glass doors, and she sensed his erection already in progress. Michael took a moment to gaze at Elaine, basking in the naughty glow of lingerie, with the door opened wide for any curious passerby to see.

“Gorgeous,” Michael smiled, patting the bulge in his pants. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“Your surprise is waiting.” Elaine took Michael by the hand, and drew him to her. The

door closed behind him without locking and neither bothered to secure the latch.

“You keep talking about this surprise.” His hands slid under Elaine’s robe, and moved

over her waist and hips. “Is this it? Your new lingerie? I like it.”

“The surprise is in the guest bedroom,” Elaine whispered, passion elevated by his touch.

“Really? What if we don’t make it to the bedroom?” Ryan pressed her against the wall.

“Will it spoil the surprise? I was going to take you standing right here.”

Her mouth brushed his, tempting a kiss. “Why don’t you then?”

“Is there anyone else here?” Michael nibbled at the fabric blocking his mouth from the

swell of her bosom. “It feels like we’re not alone.”

“No, we’re not. And you should at least say hello to her before your cock gets in me,

don’t you think?” Elaine moaned as Michael’s gentle bites grew hungrier and more intense.

His hot mouth approached her nipple, “Her?”

“Yes, her.”

Elaine felt Michael’s pulse skip with excitement. They’d teased each other with explicit

talk about Tessa—the new hire Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off of when she’d crewed on the last flight. Ryan never showed interest when Elaine suggested bringing a second female into their bedroom for a night or two. The last time Michael and Elaine were together, she mentioned the idea of a threesome and it made his cock swell inside her.

Michael held Elaine against the wall with his chest and rolled his protruding firmness on

her damp opening. “And what are we going to do with her?”

“Everything.” Elaine kissed him, desperate for his taste. “The three of us can do whatever

we want together for the rest of the day… and night.”

Michael struggled, restraining himself instead of unzipping his slacks, wanting to enter

her right then, and groaned one more question. “You arranged it? And she’s totally willing?”

Elaine’s hands zoned in on his length, stroking the outline of his hardening shaft through

his pants. “Very willing. I hope she’s who you wanted.”

“You’re who I want, Elaine. Every gorgeous, fucking inch of you,” he said, and kissed

her madly. “I came here for you.”

“Yes, I know. But I want you to come for her, too.”

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Through adoring eyes Rocco watched her hips sway, then hitch to one side as she fondled
the long and thick dildo. The view of her firm ass held tightly by the slick vinyl suit caused his
erection to stiffen and press against the inside of his jeans. He loved seeing her stroke the toy,
and suppressed his natural reaction to rub his cock as she touched the one on the Sybian, so stiff
and ready for her pussy.
Still on all fours, Rocco waited for instruction, desperate for a touch and taste of his
Mistress wife. His cock dripped inside his jeans, wetting them through to the surface.
“Well, Rocco?” Sumera questioned him with no regard for his answer. Horny, the
extroverted Domme had no other plan but to fuck the machine senseless. “Will you be a good
boy and not touch your throbbing ache while I get off on this big boy?”
Clenching his jaw, he drew a breath, answering, “Yes, my Mistress.”
The suit was slowly unzipped, metal tooth by metal tooth, until it fell from her sexy
shoulders and hung from her nipples.
Rocco quivered at the sight of the zipper teeth clinging to her precious buds, puckered
with excitement, fully aroused by their controlled interaction. Sumera was an expert rider,
preferring to mount her play things. Real or synthetic, she got off being in the top position, and
Mistress needed an orgasm before dealing with whatever circumstances might be encountered
over dinner.
“Ohhh,” she said with a shiver, reacting to the scratch as the zipper fell away from her
pink anchors. The fullness of her D-cup bosom hung there over the trim contour of her tiny
waist. Sumera pulled the suit from her hips, then wiggled it to the edge of her boots. Her pussy
was bare and the cool air sent a jolt of pleasing sensations from her clit to her pelvis.
She parted her swollen lips, making a sticky sound with the sweet nectar decorating them.
“Undress me.” Clapping her hands, Sumera gave the signal for Rocco to crawl across the
floor. Onto his slender frame he went, dragging his bulging erection over the cold, porcelain tile.
He stretched his arms as far as they would reach, clawing on the flat surface beneath him till he
arrived at her feet.
Placing his head near her toes, he replied, “Tell me how to best please you, my love.”
“Use your teeth.” Defining the seduction, she added, “Remove the boots only.”
Rocco sat back on his heels, bowing in a child’s pose first, then straightening his spine so
his chest pressed on her leg and thigh. His mouth caught the dangling boot strap and with his
teeth he carefully undid the knots as instructed. The zipper was nuzzled until he was able to pull
it down to her sexy ankles decorated with several thin, gold chains.
“Here they are, Rocco darling.” Sumera lifted her pretty foot from the boot. Her blackpainted
toes flashed a metallic shine. “Love them.”
Finally, he had permission to worship her beloved feet. “Like this?”
With a wad of hot spit Rocco slithered his tongue in between her toes. He teased the
sensitive crevices, and felt her leg go weak from his delicious technique. Slurping on each toe, he
orally massaged them, licking and sucking with lust till she grabbed his hair and smacked his
“Too fast!” she yelled, slipping her toes from his mouth. Sumera snapped twice, pointing
at her other leg. The nonverbal command was given for Rocco to repeat the detailed process of
untying the straps with his teeth, and maneuvering the zipper to her ankle.
Once free of the boot, Sumera dangled her foot in his face, expecting the same treatment.
“Clean it.”
And he did, bathing her foot with wads of spit till each toe was soaked from base to the
tip. She moaned her approval, and let him lick like an animal on prey.
“Enough,” she said, withdrawing her foot and regaining her stance. “Mistress needs her
pussy filled.”
By his hair, Rocco’s face was brought to the smooth surface of his wife’s mesmerizing
mound. “Remind me how your tongue needs my cunt.”

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“What type of special skills do you possess?” I asked Winterlynn, the hot young brunette
I interviewed earlier. She smiled so shyly that I almost wanted to excuse her lack of experience
with a playful spanking, but business is business.
With a shaking hand she clicked on the music before starting her routine. She had talent
and was pleasant to watch, yet her dancing was too modest for performing at the club. When she
was done I ran my hands over every inch of her vinyl covered body, feeling lean muscles and
feminine curves. “Are you comfortable dancing fully nude?”
“I’ve never danced nude before, but I am happy to try it out,” was Winterlynn’s attempt to
conceal her modesty, averting her hazel eyes from looking into mine. “I don’t allow ‘trying out’ at
my club. You must be polished from the start.” Her disappointment prompted me to give another
opportunity. “Why don’t you see how comfortable you are with it now?”
She agreed, removing her clothes, skin reacting to the cool air with nipples puckering.
“Should I do my routine again?” I settled back in my seat. “Absolutely.”
Winterlynn mounted the stage, nervous at first, not relaxed enough to bask in her
bareness. “Your body has a wonderful silhouette, but I need to see everything if you truly want to
work for me.” To my wonderment, her love for dancing eased the tension of being nude in front
of a stranger. As her motions freed up, she opened her legs—even bending over to show off her
ass—satisfying my request.
I wanted to hire her. She’s not as top shelf as the others, but there’s a prominent member
who likes them rather inexperienced. Being a teacher of making love to another woman is what
turns her on, and it’s my pleasure to supply hers to the fullest. “Are you able to start tonight?”
“I am,” she replied, with the excitement of a child. I still needed further convincing, even
though my instincts told me she would do fine after receiving mentoring from my best girls.
“Come here.” Her quivering made me suddenly wet and rather hungry. “You are quite
lovely.” I cupped her tender breasts, enjoying how they fit lightly in my hands, so young and
supple. “Are you willing to do whatever working for me requires? I only place the most
dedicated and qualified girls at the club.”
“Yes,” she smiled sincerely and I could feel her gentle breaths as I placed my lips on hers.
She knew how to kiss me back, obviously having experienced other girls. “Your lips are so
yummy,” she whispered in between offering me her tongue and taking in mine. “Undress me,
slowly.” She obeyed my command, unbuttoning my silk blouse, hands sliding down the curve of
my hip as she pulled down my skirt. I led her face across the lace of my bra, and let her suckle on
my tits for a nice, long while, and I enjoyed the intense sensations. I watch her sweetly travel
towards my thighs. There she let her tongue playfully lick me over my panties before moving
them to the side for direct contact, making my knees buckle with unexpected pleasure.
Winterlynn had me in the palm of her hand, plunging her fingers into my juicy hole, which I
rarely let new girls do. She had the skill to penetrate just the right spot inside me. Her pace was
perfect and I quickly lost control, releasing on her face, legs shaking with each peaking and
passing wave. If this is how she introduces herself, I can only imagine how fantastic she’ll be as
the main attraction. I stroked her head, letting her tongue flicker on my sensitive and spent clit,
until I couldn’t take another second. She stands, showing off how wet her face is, cleaning my
juices from her fingers.
“Very nice.” With a kiss on the cheek and a swift pat on her round ass, I closed the deal,
“You’re hired.” This girl knows how to get the job done and I’m not afraid to use her for it.

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“Harlow,” I whisper in her ear. “I have a surprise for you.”
She doesn’t want to wake yet, warm and cozy in my bed. “You do?”
“Yes, come see.” Her bare hip is calling for my kisses, and I give her several. “We don’t want
the water getting cold.”
“Water?” Her eyes flutter open, hands immediately exploring my body. “I’m already wet.” She
brings my right hand to her inner thighs, inviting me to feel her excitement.
“Darling angel, I drew us a bath. It’s filled with roses. Come have a soak with me.” I scoop her
into my arms, etching the length of her spine with my manicured fingernails, all the way to the curve
and contour of her shapely bottom. My hands need to be in between her thighs, followed by my face,
but the water is cooling. “I want to be wet with you, too.”
Harlow’s blonde bush is like sweet cream in my hand. I walk her to the bath, cupping her
delicate gem. She sings in my ear, “You’re frisky this morning.” Her little mound wiggles in between
my fingers, leaving sweet icing for me to taste before she plunges into the tub.
“It’s the late afternoon.” I tip-toe into the water opposite her, sensitive to the temperature. “We
can stay in the bath for as long as we want.”
“Until we shrivel?” Harlow sinks in to her shoulders, smiling playfully. Her breasts bubble to
the surface and lay there tranquilly.
“We’ll probably get hungry before then.” She pours the lavender-laced water down my shins
and calves before massaging my feet. My eyes roll back, thoroughly lost as her fingertips intuitively
find my pressure points, and then slips them between my toes.
“My goodness, Harlow, you have quite a talent.” It’s like a slice of heaven being naked with my
lover, bathed in frothy essential oils. The aromatics from the flower petals send me drifting into a
blissful state of calm. There’s nothing in the world I’d rather be doing, and my mind is at peace. I
remove my feet from her hands, and swim into her open legs, landing with the grace of a butterfly on a
fresh bud. Our naked bodies float together in the large tub, lifted by the water, with flowers on our skin.
Petals wash up between our chests and I press my bosom to hers, tickling the satiny flower pieces on
the tips of her puckered nipples.
Harlow giggles, blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight reflecting off the water’s surface. “You’re
mine, now.”
“Yes,” I agree, rocking our full breasts together, back and forth. “Feel how wet I am, baby.”
Her laughter is contagious. I envy her ability to be so free with emotions. “I love your smile,
almost as much as I love your twat.”
“Young lady!” Shocked at her bold language, I spank her bottom.
“I think this is what you need.” The softness of her hand caresses my clit, then searches for the
tight opening. She penetrates it. “Oh, Cherry, you’re very, very wet.” One finger, then two, sliding in to
her first knuckle. I let her push in deeper, burying both knuckles further in my cunt. I don’t want to
come yet, but I am suddenly close, as a surge of wild sensations shoot through my core. The pleasure
she releases in me is immeasurable, and I want to lose control. It’s been so long since I burst thick cum
onto any of my lovers of late, preferring to express my passion in other ways, like with the new hires.
Harlow is unique in this way—I’ve let her take me further than her predecessors. Only a very few girls
have I let inside.

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I never give girls I haven’t met my phone number, and often not for months after they’ve
been hired, or ever. Retaining my privacy is of the utmost importance. Dusty fields the calls, and
relays pertinent information to me. Calling to check on her progress, which has stalled, I ask
about the new girl. “Has Tina called you? She’s almost fifteen minutes late.” Dusty’s negative
and exasperated response loads my tension level beyond reason. She gently suggests scheduling
Harlow again, but I disconnect the call before giving an answer, hearing a cautious knock on the
back door.
I brighten the color contrast on the security camera viewing the building exterior, seeing
this scrumptious auburn haired girl standing alone with her ankles crisscrossed together. Kneehigh
black boots and booty shorts catch my attention, and then I notice her plain white t-shirt
with collar cut off, hanging from her shoulder, uncovering a white bra strap. Hitting the button
on the intercom, I speak in my most seductive voice, just to see how she reacts. “Hello, pretty
baby in the white see-through shirt. Did you come to bring me cookies?”
The poor girl is speechless, looking in all directions for the speaker, not bothering to
cover up her chest. I continue, “Would you like to come inside? You’re a very attractive young
Who knew a girl could blush an entire palate of pinks and reds in a split second? She
spots the camera up above and finger waves at it. Just to make sure I’m letting the right girl in, I
clarify her identity. “Tina? Is this you?”
Her nod is authentic, and I place my paranoia on a back burner, unlocking the door. “You
must be the woman in charge?” she asks in a southern accent. Avery didn’t say she was from the
South and I find her sweet tea-laden voice pleasing.
“Yes, I’m the woman you came to see.” Her palm is moist as a I shake and then kiss the
top of her hand. “You prepared a routine for me?”
Her rosy, blushing cheeks whiten. “Uh, no, I thought it was an interview, like other jobs
I’ve had.”
My stomach sinks, realizing Tina isn’t up to par. Back against the wall, I lay it on the
table. “Are you at least aware this job requires nudity?”
A slight hue of color returns to her face, shyly smiling. “Avery did mention it, yes.”
“And you’re okay with being nude in front of strangers?” Leading her to a table by the
stage, her feet quickly shuffle across the marble tile floor.
“Well, I’ve only done it for a few of the ladies I’ve worked for,” Tina confesses. “But I
think I’m okay with it.”
“Think?” More curious by the second, I sit and she follows suit, appearing too innocent
for what she shares. “In order to work for me you must know.” Clasping my hands in my lap, the
stray fantasy I had earlier of sampling this girl is heading out the window. “Elaborate on what
you just said. What type of job did you do for the women who wanted you naked?”
“Housekeeping. Mother’s helper type work. It was three different women, all Avery’s
friends.” My eyelids flutter over Tina’s matter-of-fact description of naked cleaning gigs, more
accustomed to interviewing burlesque dancers and overtly sexual girls. Tina’s like a young,
happy homemaker who sees naked housework as a matter of efficiency.
Thrown off my game, I can only think of mundane questions. “How often did you clean
their homes? Do you still work for Avery and the others?”
Tina snorts and giggles, amused by me for some reason. “I didn’t clean for them at all.”
“No? Please explain.”
“They called it housekeeping, but like for Avery, she just wanted me to walk around nude
for two to four hours a few times a week. Her friend Katherine would be there sometimes, too.
They’d watch me, or ask me to sit with my legs spread open while I straightened a stack of
magazines. Stuff like that.”
I catch myself blinking rapidly. “They’d only watch and not touch?”
“None of the ladies touch me,” Tina admits, cracking her knuckles. “I do touch them,
Now we’re getting somewhere. My shoulders relax, sitting back, renewing my interest in
her. “Details, please.”
“Avery usually had her manicurist at the house, doing her nails, and she liked when I
touched her.” Smoothing lotion on her hands, Tina narrows her focus on my chest. “The
manicurist was a new mom and her breasts would fill up―you know, like get engorged―while
she was painting Avery’s fingers and toes.”
My sexual journey has been spiked and layered with kinky activities―spanking,
paddling, light BDSM, sex toys in all varieties―and I adore having multiple partners and often
masturbate to my group sex memories. I’m a watcher, a voyeur, an instigator of salacious
events―a woman who, by choice, lives beyond society’s code of moral conduct. I’ve hosted and
participated in explicit situations others might not dare dream of partaking in. Lactation,
however, hasn’t come up as a libidinous fantasy―not until this very moment, about to be
explained via a barely legal girl with a dirty job.
Tina demonstrates the points where milk glands are on her own modest tits. “Milk glands
bulge and get hard when filled. It can be painful, so, I was there to help relieve the pressure and
also to fill a bottle for her to take home to her baby.”

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“The gold room, the note says,” Aurora read the cursive print written on the inside of the
card that was posted to the door, just as Dusty said. The three women entered, astounded by the
grand detail, high ceilings and dark wood floors. “It’s quite the gilded display, isn’t it, girls?”
“Yes,” Vivianna and Jolie said simultaneously, blinded by the abundant, glittery and
golden décor. “It is.”
“A room fit for royal cunts,” Aurora said. “And look, chilled champagne.”
“I’ll take a glass.” Jolie went for the bottle, but Aurora clasped her arm. “Please, allow
me.” With a white cloth and careful twists, Aurora popped the cork and sipped from the bubbly
overflow. “Fabulous. Expected nothing less.”
“Mmm.” Sniffing the gold-dusted flowers placed around the room in metallic vases,
Vivianna asked, “Do you think it’s all real?”
Aurora shared her opinion. “The flowers are. I can smell their sweetness.” Then she
asked, “Or is that your pussy?”
Vivianna blushed, petting her chest as if she couldn’t catch her breath. “Both?”
“But the gold?” Aurora continued, stroking the wanna-be dancer’s wavy brown mane,
smoothing the curls with her fingers. “You’d have to ask Cherry. I’m only an expert at licking
“Awesome.” Jolie stripped out of her tiny cocktail dress, showing off her lovely body,
inked with floral designs in strategic zones. Her sexy, tattooed body and new short, red haircut
turned Aurora on in her deepest, horniest places. “Me, too.” Flashing her emerald green eyes,
Jolie tweaked her nipple piercings. “Want me to lick yours first?”
The mood in the room turned sultry without need for further explanations or
arrangements. Vivianna wasn’t one to question the sexual needs of a mature, sophisticated
woman like Aurora, and managed to keep quiet.
Jolie didn’t wait for an answer, and strutted towards the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Aurora called. “Get back here and stand
in front of me. I wasn’t done visually drinking you in.”
Jolie halted, twisting to face her owner for the evening. “Yes, ma’am.” Returning to the
start position, she stood at attention, lifting her chest for inspection. “How can I serve you?”
Silence fell between the three. Vivianna anxiously anticipated the naughty scene she was
about to see. Not expecting…
Whack! Jolie’s breasts were slapped on both sides by the suddenly aggressive older lady.
Before she could wince, Jolie’s bouncy tits were smacked again, and again. Her cheeks went red
and so did her breasts.
Expelling a hot breath of air, Jolie said with a frisky smile, “Nice. What else?”
Third and fourth smacks were delivered to her reddening, top heavy flesh. Vivianna
gasped and sighed, making more noise than the girl taking the impact.
“Hell yes…” Jolie hissed with an edgy tone to her voice. “More, more…”
“Look how they jiggle,” Aurora stated, owning her authority, “so full and buoyant.”
“Can I slap them, too?” Vivianna interrupted the heated mood. “Looks like so much fun.”
Aurora gave her a stern look. “No.”
Like a shot to her heart, Vivianna retracted, “Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry,” Aurora told her. “Just wait your turn. I don’t like to share when I’m
warming up.”
“Oh,” Vivianna kept on, “I’m not sure what to do then? Should I–”
Aurora’s stiff hand went across the chatty dancer’s tits hard and fast, dislodging them
from her demi-cup bra. Peek-a-boo nipples pointed upwards, ripe and inviting. Vivianna gulped
her words loudly.
“Hush!” Aurora ordered. “You stay until I say.”
Echoing Jolie’s response to Aurora, “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Call me Aurora, silly girl,” she replied. “And relax.” Returning her attention to Jolie, she
opened her hands and secured her palms to the gorgeous mounds she’d slapped. Massaging them
with a powerful, undulating motion, Jolie grew weak in her stance.
“That’s fucking amazing,” Jolie complimented, before her face was smacked, too.
Aurora met Jolie’s mouth with hers and pressed in fully, kissing her with intent to fuck.
Breaking the wet connection, Aurora pulled away first. “You ready for me, tough girl?”
“Fuck yes,” was Jolie’s eloquent response.
“Yes, Aurora?” she answered.
“Come,” was the only command given.
Vivianna pranced to them, noticing how red Jolie’s cheek was. She wondered if Aurora
might slap her across the face, too, and on her plump-a-licious ass. “I’m here.”
“Turn so your backs are against each other,” Aurora directed.
“Like this?” Vivianna asked, wobbling into position. Back-to-back the horny girls stood,
rubbing bottoms till Aurora stilled them.
“Yes.” Placing firm hands on their pelvises, the aggressive woman held her captives till
their asses smashed together. “Slither,” she told them, “I want to hear your assholes pucker.”
Back and forth the naughty girls sent their hips, driving their fleshy globes together.
Aurora closed her eyes, and listened to the delicate sound coming from between their butt
cheeks. In the silence of the room, she could hear their assholes open with the friction of skin
being pulled apart.
“There it is,” she whispered, “your little puckering holes are talking to me. They want me
to wiggle my fingers up inside of both your private spots. Your bad girl entrances.”
The hip sliding kicked into gear, faster and faster, as Vivianna and Jolie felt their
excitement ignite. Jolie loved ass-play and Vivianna had a thing for it, too.
Aurora asked, “You two ladies like to be ass fucked?”
Unanimously, they answered, “Yes!”
“Then Cherry matched me up with the right women.”
Instantly, her hands slid down their pelvises, and cupped their beautiful, damp snatches.
“Ah, one’s bald and the other doesn’t like to shave… or wax. Good thing I like smooth as much as
bush, yes?”
“Yes!” They chimed together.
Fanning her fingers to spread open the two different sets of pussy lips, one furry, the
other slick, she viciously left their clits untouched, much to their moans of displeasure.
“Don’t you dare pout, ladies,” Aurora said. “Remember, this service is for me, not either
of you.”
“I get to do what I want to you both,” she continued, feeling them quiver as her
exploration for their velvet, smooth holes drove deeper. Aurora’s hands went past their cunt
openings till her right and left middle fingers pinpointed the sexy, backside crevices. “There it is,
my favorite opening to make come.”
She pressed in and turned her middle fingers in tiny, teasing circles. “So tight, ladies.
How are you going to let my fingers slide up inside your asses? All tight like that?”
Vivianna moaned and shook, wanting to be penetrated. “I don’t know, but just do it!”
“Press down on my finger, tight girl.”
“Like this?”
Frustrated with her, Jolie blurted, “Shut your mouth and do it!”
“What she said,” Aurora agreed, pushing her middle fingers till they popped inside their
“Ahhh, oh yes…” Jolie moaned, rotating her hips so Aurora’s finger could sink in deeper.
Vivianna held her breath, and her body was stiff. “It… it…”
“It hurts?” Aurora asked, easing up on the deeper penetration. “I’ll go easier on you.”
“I can take it,” Jolie told her, “Finger fuck me as hard as you want.”
“Oh, I like this girl,” Aurora responded, and went further up Jolie’s tiny, forbidden
passage. “And I like you, too, Vivianna, even though you’re resisting me.”
“I can’t help it!”
“Does it feel good?”
“Yes!” Vivianna cried. “It’s just so much!”

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Without wasting another second, Katherine and Avery, otherwise known as the desirous
duo, were on the dance floor. They swished their hips to the three half-naked ladies dirty
“Good for them,” Cherry said to Veronica. “That’s why I invited Katherine and Avery on
this trip. I knew they would just go with it and blend in with the natives.”
A few mesmerizing moments passed as Cherry, Veronica and Allison watched what
transpired with the woman on the dance floor. They even caught Kelsie glimpsing a time or two
at the passionate foreplay.
“I’m in awe,” Veronica admitted to Cherry.
“Me, too,” Cherry laughed, feeling a hot throb in her pelvis as the dancers stripped down
to bras and panties. “I didn’t expect the mood to heat up so quickly.”
The threesome became a quintet, as the east coast ladies mingled with the two from the
west, and invited them inside their erotic circle. Katherine and Avery comfortably moved their
hips with the lusty trio, meeting each twist and rotation as if they’d danced with them many
nights before this one.
One of the three, a wonderfully stacked brunette with a tiny waist cinched underneath the
full shelf of her breasts, glided her hips and ass with Katherine’s curves. Avery wiggled in
between the other two—a petite Asian with a sharp, shiny black bob sweeping her high
cheekbones and red-painted lips and a dirty blonde gyrating her bottom towards the floor. She
wrapped her hands around Avery’s legs, sliding them up to her thighs before boldly kissing her
“Ohhh,” Avery moaned, “I like those kisses.”
The blonde kissed her again, adding in the tip of her tongue as she went further up
Avery’s thighs, paying equal attention to the right and the left. She noticed Avery wasn’t wearing
panties, and gazed at the pretty, hairless lips waiting to be opened.
“And I like how your pussy looks from below,” the blonde hissed, blowing her hot breath
onto her shaven flesh. “Puffy lips that hide the clit make searching so much fun.”
Avery quivered, watching the beautiful stranger between her legs, aiming to touch her
cunt right there. The blonde didn’t say another word or ask for permission—she didn’t have to—
kissing closer and closer to Avery’s womanly mound. The steamy Asian had Avery from behind,
nibbling at her perfume-laced neck while exploring her body freely. Slipping her panties from
her tiny, black-haired cunt, she fingered her hole for a dab of lusty juice to feed to Avery.
Parting her mouth to accept a first taste of foreign cream, Avery licked at her finger, and
liked how the exotic Asian tasted. “Delicious.”
Katherine’s heart raced, catching glimpses from around the room as the horny crowd
tuned in to their sexual play. She saw Cherry and Veronica completely entranced by their group
seduction, but it was Allison’s blushing, perfectly innocent face that brought a bolt of electricity
through Katherine’s loins. Avery was moaning louder and louder, edging upon ecstasy as the
blonde licked at her puffed lips and spread her open with her tongue. Katherine heard how wet
the blonde’s mouth made Avery, and she knew a heated orgasm was near.
The brunette peeled off her wet panties and dangled them from her mouth. Katherine
sniffed the sweet scent her pussy had left on the silky material, causing an instant drip from her
own. Removing the panties from the brunette’s mouth, Katherine kissed her deeply. With passion
they mingled tongues and pressed their pelvises together. She could feel the heat coming from
the brunette’s cunt and impulsively made the first move. Katherine’s fingers traced the woman’s
pussy lips, so slick and soft, then slid one inside her tight hole.

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My Mommy’s Got Your Daughter! Story One



Second morning in Aiden-Persia land and I’m going bat shit crazy with boredom, laying in bed, missing my friends with no connectivity. I’ve been dreaming of blow jobs, shopping, sexting, and losing my virginity to my best friend’s hot brother. The laptop I was promised hasn’t arrived yet and Persia won’t let me on her computer for some unknown reason. She’s probably got a bunch of porn on it—like the porn movies she’s starred in—and doesn’t want me to know.

We went out to dinner last night and I had to pretend not to notice the hand job Persia was giving Aiden under the table the entire meal. My dad was like on the verge of a putrid orgasm the whole time, barely able to talk coherently. What the fuck? I’m horny, wishing I had screwed a few of those bad boys I sucked off, desperately wanting to know what it feels like to have my hole broken open by a hard dick. Why did I think it was important to save my virginity? Some of my girlfriends are totally doing it. Not me—I wanted to be good—and now I feel like a fool, ready to talk dirty and verbally jerk dudes off over text. Spending time in a large house with a sexed up woman in her late 40’s is too much on me. She’s probably masturbating to daytime T.V. right now. I want to stay in bed and waste the day until my laptop arrives. And then my stomach cramps—starving for food.

A flowery china plate has a sprinkled-covered doughnut on it in the kitchen. Persia sits, looking slutty-casual in a striped sundress with a plunging neckline.

“Breakfast?” Her breasts hang close to my face as she pours me a hot cup of coffee and a glass of pulpy orange juice. “I juiced them myself this morning.”

“Thanks,” I say, noticing no panty-line under her dress as she bends over to pick up a napkin, giving a glimpse of her glistening, hairy bush.

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My Mommy’s Got Your Daughter! Book Two



“Don’t worry about Sarah. She’s in good hands with my mother.” Leigh is eager to have me and vice versa. The young ladies I’ve met through the mother-daughter swap club have been amazing and skilled lovers, considering their age. I can honestly say I was a clumsy and awkward girl in bed when I first started experimenting at eighteen. For most of my teen years I fantasized about fucking both males and females, but when actual naked bodies were in front of me I froze with shock. Looking back, my early sexual experiences were like a weird anatomy lesson minus the romance. The need to continue my exploration and growth is what drives me to have affairs—there’s a world of flesh out there and I want to live it fully. Somehow I’ve kept my numerous dates with multiple women secret from my husband. There are times when I think I should be honest with him, but I can’t. I get off on having a shadow side he doesn’t know.

Leigh is going to be a tender delight. I can tell by the way she’s looking at me, and the soft, alluring smile on her face. She obviously prefers to be submissive. I pace her to a wall covered in provocative canvases of naked women in different poses, mostly in front of mirrors, admiring their bodies. “Wow, what a talented artist you are, Leigh.” I rub her back, fingernails finding her spine, and trail it seductively.

“This is my mother’s work.” Leigh straightens her posture, creating a long, lightly muscular surface for me to run my nails upon. “She’s brilliant, don’t you think?”

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My Mommy’s Got Your Daughter! Book Three



Sex in the afternoon is a great stress reliever and my favorite thing to do on a weekday. Today, however, my sexual needs are fueled by anger, still seething from the loss. Mandy, my gorgeous and insatiable next door neighbor, whispers a scandalous piece of gossip in my ear while finger banging me on her bathroom counter. “Dana’s a swapper,” Mandy says. “I spotted her and her tub-of-love daughter on the website.”
“No way! They’re members?” I gasp, about to come. Mandy screws my pussy as if her fingers were a cock—only better—with perfect strokes and speed. “That’s the spot! Oh, you bitch. How dare you make me come so fast?!”
“Shut up and do it, then come again,” Mandy orders, banging me harder. She knows exactly how I like it—aggressive and intense—and then she touches the trigger spot that makes me squirt a little. “I think we should arrange something with them. Me and you all over Dana’s chubby, cookie-loving daughter sounds scrumptious to me.” Cupping her hand to catch my juices, Mandy licks her palm and then shares it with me. I never squirt for my husband, but with Mandy it happens every time.
“Oh, that’s a fabulous idea,” I reply, licking the last of my cum from her hand. “I didn’t suspect Dana of even liking sex, let alone swapping, but now that we know, a housewarming gift of our pussies is in order.” Mandy hasn’t suggested we tag team a club couple before, but the idea is hot and it throws my libido into overdrive.

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My Mommy’s Got Your Daughter! Book Four



Sprawled out over her fine linen bedspread, Olivia opened her legs and probed inside her glistening pussy. She spread her fleshy lips and snapped a “pussy-selfie.” Clicking ‘send’ the nude shots were sent as text messages to naughty girl Mercedes.

Olivia flipped through the collection of nude photos Mercedes had sent her earlier—like the one she almost got caught with in the kitchen. Within seconds a return photo of Mercedes holding a breast up to her mouth and licking her own nipple arrived. Olivia gazed at the sultry young woman in the picture, hungry, horny, wanting her bad.

“Ohhh… ” Olivia sighed, petting the curve of her heart-shaped bush. Inching her fingers toward the tip of her clit, Olivia closed her eyes and drifted to a sublime fantasy of kissing Mercedes for the first time.

“What darling breasts you have,” Olivia told Mercedes in her decadent imagining. She dabbed along the rim of her creamy hole and fed herself tastes of her own pussy, pretending it’s from Mercedes. “Put them in my mouth. Let me suck your pretty nubs.”

Olivia suckled the air, pretending to have the real thing bobbing in and out of her mouth. “Mmmm… Delicious, baby. More, more…”

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My Mommy’s Got Your Daughter! Book Five



Being away from home and Cynthia for the first time during my first semester at college was difficult. A few homesick nights the corset did secretly go under my pillow. The earthy smell of the leather was comforting, reminding me of my mother, and I petted it. Then one morning I decided to wear it under my blouse. I’d tucked it into my jeans and fastened it clumsily, not fully able to reach behind my back where the ties were. It felt better than expected, and matched the curve of my waist almost perfectly. Like it’d been made for me.

Then I remembered what mother said. It had been made for me.

I was distracted the entire day while wearing it. I felt fancy, kind of naughty, like I did when I sometimes wore lace thongs on breezy days. Why did my mother have her friend design the corset for me? I wondered. My frame was small—not curvy like Cynthia’s. My breasts were a nice size, a natural, full B-cup, and the leather cups nestled them nicely. I kept caressing my ribs, torso and chest, liking how the corset embraced me. It lifted my bosom, too, making them appear at least a size larger than they were.

My roommate, Paula, who was never in our dorm room, caught me wearing it one night. I was studying on my bed with the corset still on when she opened the door. Paula did a double take, and laughed, “When did you get that?”

I asked, “What?”

“The thing you’re wearing,” she said, smiling curiously. “I’ve only seen you in sweats and t-shirts. What are you doing wearing a corset? Is it leather?”

Blinking at Paula, I didn’t know how to answer her. My face was suddenly on fire, exposed and slightly embarrassed. “Uh, I’ve had it for a few years. Just never wore it until now.”

“Huh,” she responded like it was no big deal. “I have one.”


“Yeah,” she admitted, “bought it for a Halloween costume.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling weird.

“I like it, though, just didn’t occur to me to wear it other than as a costume.”

“Well,” I replied. Having no excuse, I went with the truth. “My mother had it made for me.”

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There are five stories in this freebie. The excerpt is from story 5 – The Madam and the Maiden.

Alone in her home, Elle moves as a thief, fearful of being detected. Carefully she opens the
doors of her mother’s private quarter—a dance studio where she practiced, and on special occasions,
danced for her husband. Surprisingly, the room has been untouched by the interlopers, alive with a
lingering scent of resin dusted wood floors. Her mother’s dainty footprints trace the circles of her
twirls, reminding Elle of who she is, of what more than anything she loves. How this room went
undiscovered is a true miracle. A painted box calls to her from the corner. Inside, are her mother’s
ballet costumes—the ones she wore as a star ballerina—and her last pair of toe shoes. Elle cradles her
findings, spilling tears, until a loud clap rings in her ear. There stands Dante, the ghostly image of the
intimidating master dancer her mother trained with. He commands Elle to strip out of her rags, right
there in front of him. Cowering with modesty, he demands of her again, like he did with her mother.
One shoulder removed, then the other, too scared to take off her clothes any further, Dante clenches
fistfuls of the lowly attire and rips it straight off, revealing her nudity. How is he to get her to the ball
like this? Her entire troupe is waiting for her arrival, unable to carry on the show unless she is there for
her solo. Tonight the Prince must be entertained, and Elle will be there to dance for him, the routine she
dances more perfectly than any dancer before her. Dante caresses her shivering skin without need for
an invitation. Like an artist, she is his canvas for him to create. His hands sweep down her chest, over
her taut nipples and softly breathing belly. Into the crevice of her pelvis and right between her thighs,
he feels her muscular legs, lifting one. Bringing her toes to his mouth, with a wet tongue, he sucks. Elle
flows with the sensual vibrations of feeling his tongue and then the silk of her stockings rolling up
shapely leg. Dante’s hands grip her hips, guiding the stockings to rest upon her precious little cunt
before pulling up her leotard and frilly tutu. Dressing the descendent of the woman he so admired, the
girl he brought to great heights of success, subdues his cunning stance, running his fingers through her
golden hair. He could have her this very second, allowing the thick head of his cock to penetrate her
innocence, but serving the good is why his karma has brought him here. She can see right through him,
this apparition of lustful servitude, and lets him sit her down in her mother’s gold leaf chair. The spellbound
toe shoes fit properly on her feet. Dante expertly binds her ankles with satin ribbon, ending in a
tiny knot tucked in as to not interrupt the graceful lines of her primed limbs. Like feet possessed, she
takes to the floor, on her toes. Performing seductive moves, she dances for Dante, blushing at his
bulging groin. The princess costume cups her every curve, beckoning to be soiled by an over eager
mate. He gives her a pink robe and explains the details of the magical plan, and the catch that is
embedded. Too elated to fully comprehend the strictness of the rules, she gleefully agrees, and sets off
in the royal carriage awaiting her acceptance.

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Kevin blew in my ear while kissing the sensitive areas of my neck—the spots that made
me shiver with chills—melting me with his lips. I sighed, circling my fingernails on his
washboard abs until I reached his belt buckle. Kevin’s erection was pronounced through his
jeans, and I placed my hand over it, patting his stiffness like an obedient pet.
Casey and Paul made out with uninhibited lust, hands roaming as freely as their mouths.
Casey told her husband, “On your back.” And he obeyed, reclining on the fancy floor rug with
his meaty beast aimed like a rocket ready for launch. I knew his cock well, having had the
pleasure of screwing it and remembered how delicious it felt, oversized in my cunt, stretching
me open with its girth.
She grabbed hold of his shaft and ran her grip up and down his length, softening and
constricting around it as his moans filled the room. Casey’s mouth landed on Paul’s red, pulsating
head, and she engulfed it, working her saliva-coated tongue downward while twisting her wrist
to match the corkscrewing motions. Massaging his heavy balls in her other hand, she lifted them
to her lips as her mouth reached the base, and gently slipped and swiped her tongue across them.
“Fuck, baby,” Paul groaned through gritted teeth, his hands covered by Casey’s long,
blonde curls as he held the sides of her head. He guided her head-bobbing, holding her on his
manhood till his dripping head hit the back of her throat. Casey obliged him, coughing first, then
making slight gurgles as she opened her throat and allowed his cock to go in further. “You suck
me so good.”
Torn between wanting to verbally encourage their lovemaking and wanting to remain a
silent observer, I instinctively cleared my own throat, wanting to mirror Casey and blow Kevin’s
rod, too. But that’s not why we were invited to watch, and so I politely rubbed my chest, smiling
for Casey to continue.
Choking and spitting on her man’s meat, Casey used both hands, twisting and turning on
his shaft while she breathed through her nostrils, her throat completely occupied. She gurgled
louder, his head hitting her gag reflex, then suddenly withdrew, inhaling then swallowing. The
devil was in her eyes as she looked down at her husband, and commanded, “Don’t you dare come
Paul just laughed, totally in control of his tool. “And short change our guests?”
Playfully, Casey smacked his chest and gave his cock a hard squeeze. I gasped at the
sheer size of it, and fought the urge to jump in and join them.
Berlin read my mind, and blurted, “You sure you don’t need my help, Casey?”
“Or mine?” I added, sending a wink to Berlin.
“Thank you, but…” Crawling over Paul’s body, Casey wedged his shaft between her
thighs, teasing his tip with her cunt’s opening as she swung her hips in slow circles, “…next time,
ladies.” Slipping his bulging head inside her tender folds, and letting it slip inch by inch till she
landed on his hairy, pelvic base, Casey gave her pussy a moment to simply enjoy him inside of her.

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La Leche Au Pair



“How can I help you, Mrs. Randall?” Tory asked, making herself comfortable on the couch next to me. “The agency said you’d been experiencing difficulties.”

“Breastfeeding came naturally to me with my first two children,” I confided. “My milk has been slow to come in since she was born three weeks ago and I’m simply beside myself with guilt over having to put the baby on formula.”

“I understand,” Tory empathized, glowing with her youth. Her skin was tan and her dark brown hair was tied up in a loose ponytail that adorably flopped when she cocked her head. “And I’ve worked with other mothers who’d needed my compression technique to help invigorate milk supply.”

“The agency told me that about you,” I told her, feeling a hot rush course through my body at the thought of her touching me. “What exactly is it you do?”

Tory smiled, rubbing her strong yet feminine hands together—the type of hands born to give massages. She used the air to demonstrate, as if she was working on a pair of imaginary tits. “It’s compression and manipulation along the sides of the breasts.” Her hands formed the shape of claws, taking my breath a little, worried her technique might be too much. “Depending on how swollen you are, I’ll manipulate the ducts until your milk supply is freed.”

“Oh?” I replied with a wavering voice, my face flushed from her talk of massaging my breasts. “Sounds very intense, Tory.”

“It can be, but I’ll adjust to your preferences,” she assured me, “just as long as you’re getting the benefit.”

I kept my cool, wanting her to start immediately. “Okay, I’m comfortable with that. You won’t be offended if I moan and groan a bit while you’re working on me? I wouldn’t refer to myself as the silent type.”

“No, not at all,” Tory smiled and two darling dimples formed near the corners of her glossy mouth. “I make mothers moan all the time.”

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La Leche Au Pair



A hot shiver went through Melody as the Au Pairs simultaneously touched and pinched her hard, erect nipples. They checked the sensitive tips for moisture, then placed the bottles over them and continued to massage the heavy glands. She didn’t expect to be aroused by this, having imagined the situation as clinical, not sexual. But standing in the kitchen with these two beautiful, caring girls rubbing and massaging the fullness of her aching breasts was more intense then she’d thought.

Melody swallowed back a sigh, not wanting the girls to know about the pulsating sensations dancing in her pelvis that their touch had brought on. The heat building in her groin was heavenly and totally unexpected. And then the guilt over feeling pleasure from their work blurred Melody’s naughtier thoughts, until she felt the initial drips from her nipples that gave forth to a burst of hot milk.

“There it is,” Katherine said, referring to the stream of milk rapidly filling the bottle she held. “That was fast.”

“It always is,” Melody informed, “and I can never catch it all on my own. I just make a mess.”

“Well, this is more productive then, having us assist you,” Danielle replied, diligently catching every ounce pouring from Melody’s left tit. “In less than five minutes you’ve almost completely filled two bottles with not a single drop spilled.”

“Yes,” Melody agreed, unable to stop the surge of pelvic sensations. She had the urge to touch her aching clit, and pushed the wrongful thoughts away. It’d been months since she’d felt aroused by anything, having put her sexual needs aside in favor of dedicated motherhood.

Pinching Melody’s nipple as she removed one bottle from her tit and replaced it with an empty one, Katherine said, “You have a very healthy supply.”

Melody nearly swooned with Katherine’s deliberate squeeze of her nipple before securing the mouth of the bottle to her puckering areola. “I’m sorry,” the lactating mother apologized, “I’m so sensitive. I don’t mean to…”

“No apologies, please, Melody.” Danielle noted, “It’s normal. We’re not here to judge, but to help.”

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Lusty Lawyers and their Innocent Interns Volume One



“Thank you.” Jinxy stands at the entrance to the break room. “You first.” Pointing for
Danielle to go inside, she doesn’t hide her gaze, locked on the bosom of her colleague. “Pour the
coffee, and be quick about it, but listen,” Jinxy quiets her voice, closing the door behind them.
“Finger your pussy, and when it’s wet, rub your cream on the rims of the cups.”
Shocked, Danielle blinks. “Seriously? I can’t do that! I’ll get fired.”
“No, you’ll probably get an award for good behavior.” Jinxy arranges four cups on the
counter. “They’d rather have your cream than a splash of half and half. Trust me.”
Unsure, but not wanting to disappoint, Danielle parts her panties from the sticky
connection with her furry pussy lips. She doesn’t shave, per Sicily’s preference for feathery hair
on the box. Finger poking inside her hole, she dabs before holding the glistening tip up for
Jinxy seizes Danielle’s hand, sticking the moist finger into her greedy mouth. Sucking,
she licks the entire length from knuckle to tip then swallows. Jinxy wonders if she should ask for
another fingering, and gives her opinion. “Tasty.”
“I thought you said I was to rim the cups?” Danielle waves her finger to Jinxy, like she’s
her child to scold.
“I was only kidding, silly. You really think I’d let you get in trouble over lewd conduct?
You know it’s only acceptable upon attorney approval. And I thought you knew me better.” Jinxy
fills a carafe, and screws the lid on securely. “Although there’s a chance they wouldn’t be mad at

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Lusty Lawyers and their Innocent Interns Volume Two



“Girls!” Sicily claps her hands sharply—the sign for Danielle and Loretta, her hiding
secretary and intern, to come out and face the client. “The work day has begun.”
Leigh’s angry face reveals a pleasant look, admiring nude girls Danielle and Loretta, both
just a tad younger than she is. With a sultry voice, she purrs, “Mmmm. Hi, I’m Leigh Woodson.”
“They know who you are.” Sicily opens a desk drawer, retrieving her beloved and aged
wooden paddle—the one she spanks her staff with daily. “And yes, remove your pants.” Clearing
a spot on her desk, Sicily instructs, “When they’re off, bend over.”
“Panties, too?” asks Leigh.
“Yes,” answers Sicily.
Danielle and Loretta’s eyes twinkle, watching the glamorous fashion model shimmy out
of her pants, and then her purple satin panties. Her tan lines made it look like she was wearing a
tiny string bikini over her nipples and fair-haired crotch, but she wasn’t—she was fully naked
suddenly, and bending over.
“Behold, the ass that’s graced magazine covers as well as countless runways.” Leigh’s
subservient pose touches Sicily. She runs a strong hand over Leigh’s curvy yet defined rump,
smoothing the taut surface of what will be very red after a few spankings. Placing her groin
against Leigh’s backside, Sicily speaks to her staff, “On your knees, girls.”
“Yes, Ms. Paxton.” Knowing what Sicily wants, Danielle takes the lead position,
dropping below Leigh’s body. She pats her hip for pensive Loretta to join her. Both on their
knees and under Leigh’s torso, Danielle inches towards the client’s pussy and blows on her clit.
Then, wham! The paddle’s thrown into action, and slaps Leigh’s milky white rounds,
leaving the first anticipated red mark. “That’s for being a bad girl this morning.

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Servant Quarter Stepbrothers



“Stop talking about my mother!” he defended. “She’s dead, okay! How long do you want to make her pay? To make us pay?” The high-intensity discomfort level between us was palpable, and yet he stepped closer to me, getting in my face even. “We’re victims, too.”

“Finally, we agree!” I wanted to kiss him, deeply, and seal our connection. “Yes, Brent, we were the victims! But we aren’t anymore. In fact, I’d like to extend an offer to you and your brother.”

He wanted my tits so bad his lips pouted towards them. “What kind of an offer?”

My near-nudity suddenly hit him like a slap to the crotch, waking his dormant sex drive. The light of day shined through the window behind me, illuminating my creamy skin and fully developed feminine physique. As if on cue, Brent’s manhood presented to me. Undoing his zipper, I slid my hands inside his pants, nestling pointy fingernails between firm abs and coarse pubic hair. “I’m guessing you’re eight inches when fully aroused?”


Game on. “Come move back home, Brent, and live with me and Angelica. No rent, large closets loaded with nice clothes, all meals, gadgets, big screens, cars, whatever you want—completely paid for by me.”

Brent drew a deep breath, shaking as I freed his cock from his jeans. He trembled—trembled—and I hadn’t felt a man do that in ages. I almost had him, squeezing the base of his cock, admiring the full extension of a wide nine inches.

“Fuck, your hand feels good,” he said.

Wrapping both hands around his wondrous, young shaft, my mouth went to his dripping tip. “Wait till you feel my pussy.”

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Servant Quarter Stepbrothers



“Oh God!” Angelica bucked her hips from the hot rush. She didn’t want to come yet, pushing Mina’s face, breaking the suction with a sticky pop. “Maybe I should practice on you?” Angelica questioned, eyes lusty, wanting more than coming on her maid’s face. “Maybe I should ride you like I wanted to do on Greg?”

“Ah huh,” Mina replied with a slurp, taking hold of Angelica’s soft, warm thighs. She let her tongue fall from the hole it worshiped, and laid back on the floor. Leaning on her elbows, Mina extended her long legs towards the ceiling, inviting Angelica in. Her face glistened with sweet juice, and she gave a naughty smile. “Maybe you should?”

Angelica looked with wonder at the pussy spread before her, having only teased it with her palm once or twice. This was her first full, uncovered view of a woman’s private place and the beauty of it captivated her. “Oh Mina…” Angelica whispered, too horny to just look. She dipped her fingers inside her own slit, feeling the swell within her virgin hole. Deep in her young tunnel, Angelica pushed her probing fingers further, feeling it squeeze and tug on her knuckles with rapid pulses. “I might come too fast.”

Mina fingered herself slowly in response, filling the room with the sound of a wanting, slick snatch. “Your pleasure is my happiness,” said Mina, raising an eyebrow to her mistress. She swirled her dainty pinky inside her cunt, and then removed it, waving her musky inner goodness in the air.

“Yes, I should,” Angelica withdrew her fingers from her tight hole, and compared her juice to her maid’s. She licked her fingers clean, then Mina’s. “So delicious,” the arrogant teen stated, liking the taste of her own cream. Sliding off her bed to stand over Mina, she admitted, “And so are you.”

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If the Shoe Fits, RUN (A Horror Story)


Stephanie looked kind of cute all cuffed up to my father’s old work chair. She pouted but
it had no effect on me.
The cop gave me a document to sign before he released her. The sound of dying motors
in the overhead ceiling fans added to the tension I felt, but it also made me feel right at home in
the stockroom. Under drying puddles of vomit, I could still see the familial blood stains
embedded in the cement.
“Let us know if she gives you anymore trouble,” said the cop, giving me a strange,
piercing look as he walked out the back door.
“I will, for sure, for sure,” I replied like a teenage valley putz, wishing I had my boom
box to add some other noise besides the fans to the stockroom.
Stephanie and I sized each other up.
“You lied,” Stephanie spoke first. “You didn’t go to my high school.”
I tossed her wallet onto her lap. “Yeah, I did, graduated a year before you. Was this your
big plan after graduation? Loot and steal?”
“Go to hell.” She riffled through the wallet, counting out a few crumpled dollars.
“I’m already in it,” I shared. “This is hell. I’m glad you’ll be joining me.”
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “You and that hag? You two are barfing me out,
and totally not chill. I don’t want to be stuck here with a bunch of loony psychos.”
“My aunt, she’s definitely crazy.” Throwing Grace under the bus, I came clean with
Stephanie. “Me, I’m fine.”
Silence crept between us. I cracked my knuckles, grossing her out completely.
A shoe box fell from one of the rolling racks, narrowly missing my head. The box
splattered on the floor, landing a pair of toxic-smelling, all-man-made-material sneakers on the
drying puke. “Ick,” was my managerial statement on the mess.
“Your product sucks.” Stephanie’s scowl returned, plugging her nose. “Lame as sin.”
“But it’s good enough to steal?”
“I don’t like them at all.” Stephanie dug in her backpack for a box of cigarettes. “I sell
them for five bucks to the poor families on my block.”
She tore open the fresh pack, removing one before I swiped the box. “No smoking in the
front or back of the store, Robin Hood. Highly flammable surroundings.”
“Can I take a break? You don’t want to know the bitch I can be when having a nic fit.”
She stuck the cigarette in her mouth, expecting to smoke it, and I confiscated it, too. “Hey!”
Stephanie sniffed hard on the tobacco residue left on her fingers, like snorting speed.
“No breaks. You just started.” Rule by rule, I readied myself to deliver them.
“The dude who went to the hospital, he told me the shoes made him sick. I think I feel ill,
too.” Holding her stomach, she tried to convince me, but I’m not that gullible.
“Too bad,” I said, exercising my authority. “We have work to do.”
She bit and chewed on her black-painted nails. “Can I at least wash off? I’m covered in
I handed her a box of tissues. “You’re just going to get dirty again.”
“Why did you do this?” she asked with resentment. “Why not let me be arrested? I was
cool with it, you know. It’s not like it’s the first time.”
“Opportunity,” I explained. “I wanted to give you one. Unless jail is your career goal?”
“I’m only eighteen,” Stephanie replied. “All kids my age fuck up. What’s your problem?”
Kicking the shoes out of the vomit, I told her, “My problem is what I got when my
parents died. A store no one wants, including me.”
Stephanie rolled her wrists, bruised from the cuffs. “When did they die?”
“When I was nine. Almost ten, a few weeks before my birthday. Right here in the store.”
“Here?” She shivered. “Great. So there are ghosts?”
“You believe in that? I don’t.” I totally lied, entertaining the mind game, savoring each
Stephanie shrugged, desperate for a cigarette. “I’ve seen some shit,” she shared, then
asked, “Did they go crazy, or something? Was it like what happened to that sick dude? If so, I’ll
call the cop back myself and beg him to arrest me.”
“It was much worse,” I said, “a murder-suicide.”



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