Selection from Kneel

As some of you already know, I released my second book a little while ago, and it’s been proving more popular than the first. So, I’m excited to keep writing and see where the next one goes!

Although I’m still not sure which story I’ll finish first (I’ve got a few in the works at the moment), I did include an excerpt from one of the newest ones in Yes, Chef.

With the taboo topic of pseudo-incest being the central theme for my last story, it seems I’ve decided to continue down the sinful road a little further. However, as my lead character finds out, it’s hard to seek forgiveness for your sins when they feel so good. Actually, in her case, it’s even harder to repent when the one you lust for is the one you’re supposed to be confessing to.

That’s right, this story goes beyond the closed doors of the church confessional and has more than one person on their knees shouting “oh god!”

Obviously, I’ve got a few interesting scenarios worked out in my head already, but for now I’ll leave you with just this one:

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned,” I said, trying to sound remorseful.

Of course, the truth is that I never really regretted any of the things I did, despite my years of education at Saint Margaret’s All Saints Academy. In fact, thanks to recent events at my local church, I was starting to find myself really looking forward to my confessional sessions with Father Larkin.

Granted, I always took some delight in retelling my sordid trysts to the old, and supposedly puritanical, clergy of the church ever since the first time I sat foot in the little booth where so many before me had bared their souls. So, for me at least, it was no surprise when I eventually started treating these slightly private moments as a time to not only expose my inner demons, but to also relive my encounters and relish in the memories while exposing other parts of me too.

The thought that a simple wooden partition was all that separated me from the old prude hearing my story made me almost as wet as remembering what the cock of my coworker felt like when I let it slide into my wet pussy in the supply room just last week. Given my penchant for sexual acts in risky places, I had become a pro at being discreet and quiet when needed. So, by the time I was given my path to repentance by the good Father, I was usually already coming down from cloud nine. Then, while repeating however many Hail Marys were required of me to start the week anew, I simply straightened out my outfit, took a few deep breaths, and prepared to write the next chapter of my tawdry tales.

Well, that was my usual routine until Father Larkin took over.

Father Larkin’s arrival was the sort of event that led to a rise in the number of single women, house wives, and even some single men (my church was modern in many ways) in attendance for each service. As someone who had been attending at the same church since I was a child, I couldn’t help but laugh at its rise in popularity. It reminded me of one of my Sociology classes a couple years ago where the student body was certainly skewed towards those who wanted nothing more than to see just what the young and eager professor was hiding beneath his tweed jacket and pleated pants. Of course, just what was under there was a secret that most never found out, except for me. The discovery of which proved to be the inspiration behind a number of juicy tales that I shared in the booth, but that was before Father Larkin’s time.

Truth be told, I had not spent much time in the booth with Father Larkin on the receiving end, but that was mainly because his arrival was still rather new. Now, as I listened to him speak and started to go over the events of the past week, I couldn’t help but notice that I was getting wet just by hearing his voice. Deep and certain, he spoke with a conviction that was almost enough to persuade even a marathon sinner like me to change her ways.

Lucky for me, it was also enough to get my mind thinking of other things he could convince me to do. So, as I quietly undid the zipper on the side of my pencil skirt to make it easier to slide my hand in under, I started to imagine that he was on the other side of the wood stroking a cock that I would gladly kneel in front of if he asked me.

“So, what do you have to confess today my child?” he asked.

“Oh, where do I begin?” I thought.

The First Chapter from Yes, Chef!

With the holidays just around the corner, I’m focusing on getting off at least a few more stories to hopefully end up on the naughty list and ensure that my stocking won’t be the only thing to be stuffed by the fireplace!

So, while I’m working my fingers on the keyboard, I thought I should give you a taste of what’s to come to encourage you to perhaps work yours as well…

For my second story, I’ve decided to plunge into a bit of a taboo area with the main characters, who are stepbrother and stepsister. Along with that, I’m also expecting a hot scene involving at least one character from my previous story, A Taste of Cyn. That’s right, it seems a certain up and coming photographer will end up on the tip of another tongue, and I’m not talking about just his name.

Of course, that scene will come later in the story. For now, here’s what the first chapter is set to be:

“That’s one fine piece of wood you have there,” I said, teasing Neil.

“You’ve got a good eye,” he said. “I spare no expense on my cutting boards. They’re an important part of any kitchen.”

Of course, I didn’t have the courage to correct him and explain that the “wood” I was referring to was currently pressing against his chef’s uniform as he chopped the large cucumber on what apparently was a great cutting board.

Truth be told, not having the courage to say or do something around Neil summarized most of our time together since my mother had met his dad and chose to remarry. However, after working under him for a few weeks at his restaurant, I was getting to the point where I couldn’t keep my mouth shut much longer.

So, as I watched him grip the cucumber and skillfully glide the blade through its firm skin to make perfect little circles for whatever dish he was working on for tomorrow, I started to try and convince myself to finally say something.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Neil exclaimed, making his way to the fridge. “I have something I’ve been dying for you to taste. Open your mouth!”

Wondering whether or not he was reading my thoughts, I could feel a slight wetness growing in my panties. Was he finally going to make his move? Would all those nights (and even a few days) of toying myself to the brink of exhaustion over the thought of his firm cock thrusting into my swollen pussy finally stop being simply fantasies? Feeling the spot grow bigger underneath my uniform, I took a step forward, closed my eyes, licked my lips, and opened my mouth.

I could hear the sound of the big stainless steel fridge opening, and that was soon followed by the sounds of Neil shuffling things around before he finally found what he was looking for.

“Oh, you’re going to love this,” Neil teased. “I know your type, and I bet you’ve been craving something like this all day.”

I imagined him simply opening the fridge to throw me off so he could surprise me with what I really wanted. With my eyes still closed, his hand would caress my shoulder, and I would feel his stubble as he grazed my cheek and breathed heavy into my ear:

“Get on your knees.”

Slowly, I would lower myself and gasp a little as my bare skin touched the cold tile floor of the large kitchen. As I listen to the sound of a zipper sliding down, I would lick my lips again, and open my mouth wider for the big surprise he had in store for me.

“You’re a quick learner,” he smiled. “Now, it’s time for your oral exam.”

“Yes, Chef,” I moaned.

“Chef? Oh, come now. We’re basically family,” Neil joked. “If we didn’t have to be professionals here, I’d be cool with you calling me ‘brother’.”

I realized I had said that last part out loud, and quickly opened my eyes to make sure I had not made it any more obvious where my mind had been. Luckily, despite how hard my nipples had become over that fantasy, my uniform was doing a good job of hiding them.

Neil was standing just in front of me, mixing bowl in hand. Sadly, his pants were still zippered, and his cock was nowhere to be seen. On the bright side, what was in the mixing bowl seemed rather delicious itself.

“We were so busy tonight that all the cutlery is in the last wash, so we’ll have to improvise,” he said, smiling.

With that, he dipped his finger into the icing and brought it close to my mouth. Still wishing he was using something else, it took me a second before I brought my mouth over his finger and let my tongue glide across it to taste the icing. If Neil wasn’t going to make his move, then I was at least going to try and encourage him to do so. Plus, if there was one thing I was confident about with myself, it was that I knew how to use my mouth. From past boyfriends to the guy earlier tonight, it was common for me to get a standing O while on my knees.

So, as I rolled my tongue slowly around his finger, savoring the taste of the chocolate icing and the thought of doing something similar with his dick, I opened my eyes to see Neil’s reaction.

His eyes were closed, and his mouth was slightly open, which was a look I knew well. Confident he would stay like that, I glanced down to see the clear outline of his thick shaft pressing against his pants. Although I could make it out earlier, it was very hard to miss now. Happy with this reaction, I took the last bit of icing in my mouth, gave his finger one last lick, and then smiled.

“Wow, that was amazing,” I said. “But I don’t think it fixed my craving.”

“Oh, you’re a hungry girl, aren’t you?” he teased. “Well, how about you finish up out in the front, and I’ll prepare a real dessert for you?”

“Yes, Chef!” I said, standing at attention and jokingly saluting him.

As I made my way to the front through the swinging doors, I realized how swollen my pussy was as the fabric of my pants brushed it and sent shots through my whole body. Normally, I would be looking forward to getting home to my mother’s place so I could shed my clothes and build those shots into fireworks, but tonight I was feeling more confident that Neil would give my hands a break.

Of course, as I grabbed the mop and bucket to give the front a final cleaning, I couldn’t help but think back to how it was I ended up here, panties soaked and lusting after my stepbrother.

Needless to say, I’ve got some exciting scenes in mind, and I’m looking forward to finishing this one so you can find out just what sort of off-the-menu dessert Neil will be serving.

Stay tuned.

Selection from A Taste of Cyn

With my first erotic story, A Taste of Cyn, now selling on Amazon, I thought you might want another sample of just what lies under the cover. After all, who doesn’t love a little teasing?

So, below is a scene from the final chapter soon after Angela and Cyn have a little fun in the alley just outside of the art gallery where Angela works. Obviously, it’s intended for mature audiences and contains just a brief example of the things that happen in A Taste of Cyn. For much more graphic detail, including scenes involving fingering, masturbation, oral sex, and more, check out the book on Amazon:

USA | Canada | UK

“Instead of giving me money,” she purred, “perhaps I could stay at your place?”

Still squeezing her breast with my hand, and feeling her fingers trace the hem of my skirt, I knew I had to have her tonight. Of course, I also knew inviting a stranger, especially one who possibly lived on the street, into my home could probably be another bad decision, but the thought of going home to just my toys instead of her mouth was incentive enough to take the risk.

“I would like that,” I said, pressing my lips against hers again.

Running my hand over her bra, and finding that her nipples were now hard, sent another rush to my pussy as I gathered my keys. Feeling how wet I was, it was obvious that sitting on the subway with her next to me would be too much to handle, so I offered to pay for a cab. Luckily, thanks to the commission from Donovan and the other clients, I knew one expensive fare wouldn’t break the bank.

Soon, I was flagging down a cab and telling him my address.

A few minutes after that, I felt the girl’s hand sliding along my thigh while she continued to stare out the window at the passing buildings. Not one to shy away from such a situation, I simply placed my purse on my lap and kept my eyes forward to see if the cabbie was paying attention to the road or the two of us.

Although I knew the purse didn’t hide everything, I didn’t stop the girl as she continued to move her hand up my thigh to press against my skirt. Adjusting myself to move the skirt up a bit, I was sure the cabbie gave a glance back, but I still didn’t discourage her curiosity. In fact, the thought of her fingering me while someone else watched just made the whole thing even hotter. So, for the next few minutes, I kept my eyes forward and said little, outside of a few small moans, as her fingers found my clit, spread my lips, and explored the folds of my pussy.

It was obvious she was familiar with the female body, and most likely not just because of her own personal exploration. So, with my hand on her thigh to squeeze when she was doing things right, it wasn’t long before I was clenching her fingers and cumming in the back of the cab.

Soon after, the cabbie pulled over to my building, gave me change for the fare, and drove off with a smile.

If that’s enough to whet your appetite, you can find plenty more on Amazon:

USA | Canada | UK