Decklan picked me up that night from the hotel I was staying in for a couple of days. We attended my going away party where Vivienne told him he was an idiot to let me leave. She’d had a bit too much to drink, as usual, and the result was telling people things they didn’t want to hear. Neither of us knew what to say so we didn’t say anything.
She gave me the portfolio of all the pictures Vincent had taken of me and I was just as weepy as Max and Lera had been before me.
I took my time saying goodbye to the people I considered my friends. People I’d come to care for over the years. Around three in the morning, Decklan drove me back to my hotel and we spent another amazing day together in bed. My image of him had crystallized after the horrible situation with my last appointment.
I saw him differently now and wanted him badly. We talked a lot about our ‘relationship’ and his thoughts that things between us could work. I laughed it off, telling him he still wasn’t ready to settle down. That I probably wasn’t the right choice for him even if he was ready. I was too damaged and way too used. I kissed and hugged him goodbye after I checked out of the room.
He walked me to the truck and said, “You’re really driving this thing to Texas? Alone?”
I nodded and said I’d made the trip before, nothing to worry about. I started the truck and climbed back out for a last hug. It went on longer than I meant it to. When I got in, buckled my seat belt, and put it in reverse, he waved. I waved back and blew him a kiss.
My chest hurt badly as I drove away. I was almost twenty-one and I’d been through so much, but was utterly clueless about love.
Stopping for gas, snacks, and water, I was on the road an hour later. I stayed the night in Baton Rouge and made it to Texarkana late the second night. I crashed at the hotel I’d reserved and met with my realtor the next day.
I’d rented a small house on the nearest lake sight-unseen. She drove out with me and I was pleasantly surprised. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a lovely kitchen. Perfect for my needs. I’d paid for the first year up front. The realtor sent three men out to unload my stuff and by sundown, I was settled into the new digs.
The first box I unpacked was the brand new Dell laptop I’d bought the week before. I set it up in the second bedroom with built-in book shelves and a big beautiful window looking out on the lake. I sat down and started to write, and that was pretty much all I did for the next three months.
I had groceries delivered and took walks or read when I couldn’t write anymore. I made no effort to meet people, and didn’t really have the desire to yet. I’d spent two years with too many people. The solitude was wonderful. I remembered that at one time, I’d really enjoyed my own company and a good book. I’d missed so much.
It was strange to have my focus again. I didn’t need a college degree. What I had would support me fully in this area of the country for the rest of my life, even if I didn’t make another dime. It was cheap to live here and the people were familiar to me.
I often received care packages from Vivienne and the gang. Webcam with the technically challenged had been fun setting up long distance but it was worth it to see them every couple of weeks. I told them repeatedly that, no, I didn’t miss the job, but I sure missed them.
Decklan sent emails regularly but we hadn’t talked on the phone since I’d called to tell him I made it. I figured it was probably better that way, but I missed the sound of his voice.
In August of 2001, I printed the final draft of this book and went out on my porch to read it. As I sat there with my legs up on the wooden railing and a cold glass of iced tea beside me, I heard a vehicle on my long driveway.
I couldn’t see it yet because the house was set back about a mile from the highway. I watched a new model Ford truck pull up in front of the house. The dark tint prevented me from seeing who was inside. I couldn’t have been more shocked when Decklan jumped from the cab to the gravel.
We stared at one another for a long while. He took his time walking towards me then stood at the bottom of the steps, not sure about coming up.
I smiled, “Well color me surprised.”
He laughed and cleared the steps in one bound, dropping to one knee in front of me and taking me in his arms, crushing me to his chest. “I missed you, Sarah. I missed you so bad, more than I meant to.”
I pulled back to look in his eyes and the truth was there. “Are you staying?” I asked.
He nodded and kissed me deeply, possessively. One of those kisses you could get lost in, something I’d experienced so rarely over the years. “My stuff is in the truck. I need you to tell me the truth, the honest truth. Do you love me?”
“I do. I was waiting for both of us to figure it out.” I pulled him back for another kiss and then asked him to sit beside me. “I’ve written a book. I think it’s pretty good. Wanna read it?”
He settled next to me and took the manuscript from my hands. After finishing the first couple of chapters he turned to me. “Do you have any more iced tea? This is making me sweat.”
Excellent, my first positive review.
I nodded. I went in the house and left him to read on my sunny porch outside a small town in Northeast Texas. I caught a glimpse of myself as I turned from the kitchen window and liked what I saw. Wearing cutoffs and a tank top with my hair in a long ponytail I looked healthy. I looked happy. I looked hopeful.
I joined Decklan on the porch and sat quietly as he read. He looked at me several times and smiled. Once, after reading what I’d written about our first time together, he said softly, “I didn’t know. I was so blind. I’ve wasted so much time, Sarah.” When he read what I’d written about our second time together, he reached over to hold my hand but didn’t say anything.
When he finished the last page, he pulled me up from my chair and into the house. I pointed him in the direction of the bedroom and wished I was already naked. In the sunny room, he stood in front of me for a long time, stroking my hair and face, just looking at me.
“You’re my best friend, Sarah. The only person who really knows me. I don’t want anyone else to know me; you’re the only woman who’s ever going to be enough. I’ve missed you so much. I don’t care about our ages or our pasts. I love you.”
He kissed me and it felt different from any other kiss I’d experienced. Decklan made thorough love to me, something I’d only felt fleetingly with him before and never with anyone else. It was beautiful.
Decklan opened a day spa for the wealthy in Texarkana and couldn’t believe how successful it became. He was also a fashion consultant for various modeling agencies and professional photographers, no one ever believed he was straight. He always found that amusing.
Every night, he pulled into our drive and jumped out of the truck to hug and kiss me. My book was receiving positive feedback from agents and I’d started another. Some of the girls would come out to visit, sometimes together, sometimes alone.
A year after Decklan moved out to be with me, Vivienne showed up at our door with a bottle of wine and the news she was retiring. I’d known it was coming and I was glad actually. She told me my clients slowly trickled away after I left; something I’d known since I still talked to most of them. True to form, she drank too much and got horny.
Decklan and I put her to bed and loved her up a little, but it didn’t hold the appeal it once had. She left the next day with hugs and well wishes for our happiness. Viv never visited again and I think she knew it was time for her to exit our lives gracefully. Every few months, I get a post card from some exotic location and I still email her pictures.
Decklan took me to Max’s bed and breakfast in Vermont. It was too beautiful to be real and we were shocked to see Paige and Ezbeth working with her there. They’d decided to try real jobs and focus on their relationship.
We found out Rolande had returned to Jamaica and opened a club, something she’d be well suited for. Lera wrote regularly to all of us and was doing well in Southeast Asia for the Peace Corps.
Sonia was b
eing kept in luxury by an older Southern couple who thought she hung the moon. She saved everything and said they were providing for her long-term but not in the manner of Anna Nicole Smith, thank god. There wouldn’t be a long drawn-out legal battle about the nest egg they planned to leave her.
Katie started a limo company and worked with Kristine Hyde to provide transportation for luxury clients. Max thought they were an item but neither had been willing to appease her curiosity. Viv had turned most of the studio’s operations over to Vincent and backed a salon for Lucia and Ma-Ying. Mrs. Quincy had gone into retirement with a lot of money and a head full of crazy stories she remembered fondly.
Vivienne was living in Rio, drinking too much but having fun and safe for the most part.
The trip had been spectacular but we were glad to get home. Soon after, Decklan bought me a golden Labrador to keep me company while I wrote during the day.
He asked me to marry him when we’d lived together for a year and I said yes before he’d finished asking which made him very happy. Two months after our wedding, I found out I was pregnant and he loved on me for two days, refusing to leave the house. I bought a pretty house on the other side of the lake and Decklan bought me an SUV after he chained up my motorcycle.
I was seven months’ along when a publisher purchased my book under a pseudonym.
I called Decklan who made it home in fifteen minutes and kissed me until I couldn’t breathe. Then he carried me to our bedroom, almost fully packed for the move to the new house.
Laying me back on the bed, he undressed then worshipped my body, petting my very rounded belly while he stroked his fingers in and out of my body, his thumb over my clit. His kisses were gentle and when I came the first time, he rolled me to my side and entered me from behind, whispering how much he loved me and how proud he was of me. His lips on my neck and shoulder gave me chills as he thrust into me carefully.
He loved the changes happening to my body, while I felt self-conscious of being so round everywhere. Big hands cupped my breasts, even bigger now, and slid all over me. When he moved to my clit and put my leg over his thigh, I moaned and turned my mouth for a kiss. I came and he took me up and over again before he came inside me, his come coating my pussy now that we didn’t use condoms anymore.
Afterward, he held me for a long time and we talked about everything. We knew every sordid detail of one another’s lives and accepted each other in spite of them…maybe because of them.
Alone we’d been such a mess. Together, we’d managed to be perfect.
Life is funny. You don’t always end up with the person you think you will. You don’t always end up where you think you will. You learn and you grow and see where life takes you. Good things happen and bad things happen. But absolutely everything happens for a reason.
And now…I want to introduce you to three friends of mine who also write steamy erotica. Our styles and inspiration are very different but in the end…it makes life so much more interesting, don’t you think?
First up…the dashing Benjamin T. Russell.
About Benjamin:
Benjamin T. Russell is an author of erotica and erotic romance. He is a fiercely, multifarious lover of life and all things naughty. He forged his unique perspective on love and sex in the white-hot flames of real life experiences. Having survived a motley assortment of clandestine encounters – the phrase; “Been There, Done There, I’ve Got the T-Shirt”, aptly applies to Benjamin.
He spends the daylight hours spewing his forbidden desires into bawdy stories for his readers, while he reserves the nights to service his wanton Muse and her fertile imagination.
Click the Links to Connect with Benjamin:
Facebook Fan Page
Amazon Author Page
Twitter
Goodreads
Main Website: Incubus Chronicles
Benjamin’s first book co-authored with Michelle Chatton is Naughty Hot Shots - The Booty Call. Here is a sizzling excerpt…just for you.
Booty Call by Benjamin T. Russell and Michelle Chatton
Vicky arched her back and her head lolled to the side. “Winston, ooh baby, I am soooo close. If you keep doing that I am going to come, I am going to come so hard.” She whimpered breathlessly.
Steel vibrated in Winston’s voice. “No, you don’t come until I tell you to.” The touch of menace in his voice sent a furtive thrill to Vicky's moist core and surprisingly, she found the hint of danger in his voice to be arousing.
“Yes Sir,” she said, assuming the submissive role easily from pure habit.
Vicky let out a long sigh as he slowly pulled his finger from her pussy’s clinging grasp. He stared at his cream covered finger lovingly before he turned his gaze on her and met her eyes directly.
Transfixed, she watched him stick his finger in his mouth and suck off all her cream. A look of crazed lust washed over his face as he tasted her juices and the erotic expression sent undulating ribbons of desire shimming down her spine. She peered at him through hooded eyes as he dipped a finger back inside her. Vicky’s eyelids fluttered and then closed as another wave of pleasure racked her body.
This time, when he withdrew his finger glistening with her dew, he held his hand up to her face. Every cell in her body screamed for her to devour his finger, but she forced herself to wait. He didn’t have to say it, but she wanted him to give her permission to do it. He leveled an icy stare at her and his commanding body language spoke to her heart.
Tonight she wasn’t the hotshot attorney who intimidated weak men with her intelligence, self-confidence and plus sized body. Tonight – in this bed – she wanted to be a desirable and sensuous woman, giving her trust to a real man. If only for one night, she wanted a man like Winston to dominate her and use her as he pleased.
Her eyes were soft, open, and begging for his approval. “Please.”
“That’s good baby, you’re learning.” He placed his finger at the opening of her mouth and Vicky smiled when she inhaled her scent. She greedily wrapped her lips around his finger and sucked it clean.
He moved to the end of the bed and dropped to his knees so he could look between her legs. Moisture oozed from her and he froze for a moment as his cock bucked at the sight. He stared at the tantalizing view of her sex, wet with cream. He became enthralled at the promise of emptying the creamy contents of his balls in her, or all over her.
He looked up and captured her eyes. “Vicky, tell me what you want.”
She hesitated for just a moment. “Please.”
“Please what?” The displeasure in his voice was evident.
“Please make me come.”
He smiled. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
Winston began to lick his way up the inside of her legs and made a beeline straight for her beckoning little pussy. Normally, he would have teased her even more, but since today was her birthday and she’d been a good sub up to that point, he decided to give her what she needed.
Benjamin T. Russell © 2012
Buy Booty Call on Amazon today by clicking here!
And now…the very edgy Dylan Cross. As his website states, his work is erotic literature for the darker mind.
About Dylan:
Dylan Cross is an author of darker-themed erotic stories which take the reader out of his or her comfort zone, pushing the envelope with elements such as humiliation: name-calling, embarrassing scenarios, forced exhibitionism. Others have themes such as coercion, blackmail, or otherwise non-consensual encounters. The ideal reader won’t be easily offended by such themes, and will likely admit to having fantasized about experiencing them.
Ways to Connect with Dylan:
Facebook Fan Page
Amazon Author Page
Twitter
Goodreads
Main Website: Dylan Cross
Here’s a hot excerpt from Dylan Cross’s book Fair Trade.
Fair Trade by Dylan Cross
"When you're at the top, the only way to go is down."
&
nbsp; Corporate VP Joanna Barnes is condescending, domineering and micromanaging. She belittles and insults the workers beneath her. In other words, she's a bitch.
Her behavior at her industry's trade show is no different. Her poor intern, Steve, has been on the receiving end of her verbal abuse all day. But, when the two of them get behind closed doors in the hotel room... it will be Steve's turn to call the shots, as he literally brings the curvy executive to her knees...
Joanna slipped out of her skirt, let it drop, and then moved it aside with her foot. She reached behind her back and unhooked the custom-made bra... affording herself a sigh of bliss as her considerable breasts were released from twelve hours of confinement in their lacy prison. Then, finally, she hooked her thumbs beneath the waistline of her panties and pulled them down, taking care not to snag her underwear on her pumps.
She stood. From experience, Joanna guessed that his order to strip "everything" didn't include her silky black stockings or her slutty footwear.
She'd guessed correctly. "Come over here," he now ordered. "On your hands and knees. Crawl.” She got down on all fours and began feeling her way across the plush carpet. Her pendulous 44DD breasts swung to and fro as she advanced toward him like a stealthy cougar—a ripe analogy, she reflected, considering the fifteen-year age difference between herself and her intern.
When she got about five feet away, he made her stop. “On your back..."
Dylan Cross © 2012
Buy Fair Trade on Amazon today by clicking here!
In the Service of Women Page 22
