Selena Kitt
Biography
Like any feline, Selena Kitt loves the things that make her purr—and wants nothing more than to make others purr right along with her! Pleasure is her middle name, whether it’s a short cat nap stretched out in the sun or a long kitty bath. She makes it a priority to explore all the delightful distractions she can find, and follow her vivid and often racy imagination wherever it wants to lead her.
Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to the scandalous, but watch out—this kitty also has sharp claws and her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When she’s not pawing away at her keyboard, Selena runs an innovative publishing company (www.excessica.com) and in her spare time, she worships her devoted husband, corrals four kids and a dozen chickens, all while growing an organic garden. She also loves bellydancing and photography.
Her story, Connections, was one of the runners-up for the U2006 Rauxa PrizeU, given annually to an erotic short story of “exceptional literary quality,” out of over 1,000 nominees, where awards are judged by a select jury and all entries are read “blind” (without author’s name available.) She has also been an EPIC Award Finalist two years in a row (2008 and 2009) with EcoErotica and The Real Mother Goose.
She can be reached on her website at Hwww.selenakitt.com.
Other Selena Kitt Sites
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.
All sexually active (human) characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Selena Kitt
The Whole Ball of Yarn
© 2009 Selena Kitt
eXcessica publishing
A Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved
Babysitting the Baumgartners
By Selena Kitt
eXcessica
R
onnie—or
as Mrs. Baumgartner insists on calling her, Veronica—has been
babysitting for the Baumgartners since she was fifteen years old and
has practically become another member of the family. Now a college
freshman, Ronnie jumps at the chance to work on her tan in the
Florida Keys with “Doc” and “Mrs. B” under the pretense of
babysitting the kids. Ronnie isn’t the only one with ulterior
motives, though, and she discovers that the Baumgartners have wayward
plans for their young babysitter. This wicked hot sun and sand coming
of age story will seduce you as quickly as the Baumgartners seduce
innocent Ronnie and leave everyone yearning for more!
EXCERPT:
I got out of the shower and dried off, wrapping myself in one of the big white bath sheets. My room was across the hall from the bathroom, and the Baumgartner’s was the next room over. The kids’ rooms were at the other end of the hallway.
As I made my way across the hall, I heard Mrs. B’s voice from behind their door: “You want that tight little nineteen-year-old pussy, Doc?”
I stopped, my heart leaping, my breath caught. Oh my god. Were they talking about me? He said something, but it was low, and I couldn’t quite make it out. Then she said: “Just wait until I wax it for you. It’ll be soft and smooth as a baby.”
Shocked, I reached down between my legs, cupping my pussy as if to protect it, standing there transfixed, listening. I stepped closer to their door, seeing that it wasn’t completely closed, trying to hear what they were saying. There wasn’t any noise, now.
“Oh god,” I heard him groan. “Suck it harder.”
My eyes wide, I could feel the pulse returning between my thighs, a slow, steady heat. Was she sucking his cock? I remembered what it looked like in his hand—even from a distance, I could tell that it was big, much bigger than any of the boys I’d ever been with.
“Ahhhh fuck, Carrie!” he moaned. I bit my lip, hearing Mrs. B’s first name felt so wrong, somehow. “Take it all, baby!”
All?! My jaw dropped as I tried to imagine it, pressing my hand over my throbbing mound. Mrs. B said something, but I couldn’t hear it, and as I leaned toward the door, I bumped it with the towel wrapped around my hair. My hand went to my mouth and I took an involuntary step back as the door edged open just a crack. I turned to go to my room, but I knew that they would hear my door.
“You want to fuck me, baby?” she purred. “God, I’m so wet… did you see her sweet little tits?
“Fuck, yeah,” he murmured. “I wanted to come all over them.”
Hearing his voice, I stepped back toward the door, peering through the crack. The bed was behind the door, at the opposite angle, but there was a large vanity table and mirror against the other wall, and I could see them reflected in it. Mrs. B was completely naked, kneeling over him. I could see her face, her breasts swinging as she took him into her mouth. His cock was standing straight up in the air.
“She’s got beautiful tits, doesn’t she?” Mrs. B ran her tongue up and down the shaft.
“Yeah.” His hand moved in her hair, pressing her down onto his cock. “I want to see her little pussy. God, she’s so beautiful.”
“Do you want to see me eat it?” She moved up onto him, still stroking his cock. “Watch me lick that sweet, shaved cunt?”
I pressed a cool hand to my flushed cheek, but my other hand was rubbing the towel between my legs as I watched them. I had never heard anyone say that word out loud and it shocked and excited me.
“Oh god, yeah!” He grabbed her tits as they swayed over him. I could see her riding him, and knew he must be inside of her. “I want inside that tight little cunt.”
I moved the towel aside and slipped my fingers between my lips. He was talking about me! The thought made my whole body tingle, and my pussy was on fire. Already slick and wet from my orgasm in the shower, my fingers slid easily through my slit.
“I want to fuck her while she eats your pussy.” He thrust up into her. His hands were gripping her hips and her breasts swayed as they rocked together.
My eyes widened at the image he conjured, but Mrs. B moaned, moving faster on top of him
“Yeah, baby.” She leaned over him, her breasts dangling in his face. His hands went to them, his mouth sucking at her nipples, making her squeal and slam down against him even harder. “You want her on her hands and knees, her tight little ass in the air?”
He groaned, and I rubbed my clit even faster as he grabbed her and practically threw her off of him onto the bed. She seemed to know what he wanted, because she got onto her hands and knees, and he was fucking her like that, from behind. The sound of them, flesh slapping against flesh, filled the room.
They were facing the mirror, but Mrs. B had her face buried in her arms, her ass lifted high in the air. Doc’s eyes were looking down between their legs, like he was watching himself slide in and out of her.
“Fuck!” Mrs. B’s voice was muffled. “Oh fuck, Doc, make me come!”
He grunted and drove into her harder, and I watched her shudder and grab the covers with her fists. He didn’t stop, though—his hands grabbed her hips and he worked himself into her over and over. I felt weak-kneed and full of heat, my fingers rubbing my aching clit in fast little circles. Mrs. B’s orgasm had almost sent me right over the edge. I was very, very close.
“That tight nineteen-year-old cunt!” She shoved into her. “I want to taste her.” He slammed into her again. “Fuck her.” And again. “Make her come.” And again. “Make her scream until she can’t take anymore.”
I leaned my forehead against the doorjamb for support, trying to control how fast my breath was coming, how fast my climax was coming, but I couldn’t. I whimpered, watching him fuck her and knowing he was imagining me… me!
“Come here.” He pulled out and Mrs. B was turning around like she knew what he wanted. “Swallow.”
He was kneeling up on the bed as she pumped and sucked at his cock. I saw the first spurt land against her cheek, a thick white rope of cum, and then she covered the head with her mouth and swallowed, making soft mewing noises in her throat. I came then, too, shuddering and shivering against the doorframe, biting my lip to keep from crying out.
When I opened my eyes and came to my senses, Mrs. B was still on her hands and knees, focused between his legs—but Doc was looking right at me, his dark eyes on mine.
My hand flew to my mouth and I stumbled back, fumbling for the doorknob behind me that I knew was there. I finally found it, slipping into my room and shutting the door behind me. I leaned against it, my heart pounding, my pussy dripping, and wondered what I was going to do now…
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Bluebeard’s Wife
By Selena Kitt
eXcessica
T
ara’s
husband has never shared a fantasy with her, or even masturbated—that
she knows of. However, this curious wife discovers a phone bill full
of phone calls to sex lines and realizes her husband has been living
a double life! Instead of getting mad, Tara’s curiosity leads her
to begin listening in on John’s steamy conversations in hopes of
finding out what he really wants in the bedroom. After several failed
attempts at bringing fantasy to reality, however, a frustrated Tara
turns to her much more adventurous best friend, Kelly, for help. A
quick psychology 101 diagnosis from Dr. Kelly marks John as having a
classic “madonna/whore” complex, and she quickly sets about
making plans to rectify this situation. Tara goes along for the ride,
hoping that Kelly may have the answer to bridging the seemingly
ever-growing gap in her marriage…
EXCERPT:
We ended up closing the place down, John and I. Kelly and Chris headed home about midnight, and I sat and finished another bottle of wine while I watched John move among the tables, talking and laughing. He helped me on with my coat when it was time to go, and held my elbow as we walked to the car.
“Are you drunk?” he asked me as he got into driver’s side.
I looked over at him in the dimness. “Are you mad?
“Am I mad that you’re drunk? Or am I mad that you were out dirty dancing with your girlfriend at my company Christmas party?” John started the car and put it in reverse.
“Um… that, or… whatever,” I said, struggling with my seat belt. I couldn’t seem to find the slot to put it into. John accelerated hard and I was propelled back against the seat. I was still trying to get my seat belt fastened when John hit the brakes at a stop sign and I jolted forward, reaching out my hand to the dashboard to catch myself, but my reflexes were slow, and I missed.
“What were you thinking?” John asked with a sigh, reaching over and doing my seat belt up for me.
I felt tears sting my eyes and looked out the passenger window so he wouldn’t see them. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I guess maybe that you might think I was sexy.”
We didn’t talk again until John backed the car into the garage. He always backed in, so he could pull put in a hurry in the morning. Then he turned to me in the dark of the car, his voice low. “Tara, do you know what I wanted to do to you when you came downstairs in that dress?”
I shook my head, turning a little toward him.
John reached a hand out and fingered the soft, satin hem that was riding high on my thighs. “I wanted to tear it off you.”
“You did?” I asked, my eyes wide. He was looking down at where my dress ended.
“I wanted to tear it off you and take you, right there, up against the wall in the hallway.” His voice was hoarse, and I swallowed hard.
“You did?” I squeaked.
“Seeing you dancing out there with Kelly—you don’t know how sexy you are, do you?” he asked, leaning over to me, his hand running up from my knee to my thigh. His breath was warm on my face, and I could smell the 7&7’s he’d been drinking all night. My own head was still swimming with wine.
“You two rubbing up against each other, seeing your red little dress riding up and up,” he whispered, his hand pushing my dress up further as he sought higher ground on my leg. “You looked just like you do when you come, with your eyes half closed and your mouth open and your legs quivering.”
I moaned, tilting my face up to him, and then he was kissing me, his tongue forcing its way past my teeth, down my throat, as he pressed me into the door. “I wanted to fuck you right there on the dance floor,” he growled against my neck, biting and sucking at my flesh. “I wanted to fuck you both.”
I gasped, his hands groping me in the dark, everywhere at once. My dress was pushed up to my waist now, his fingers rubbing fast and hard between my legs. We kissed, our mouths meshing together as he leaned over the gearshift to get to me. When he pulled my panties aside and plunged his fingers into me, I hissed, putting one foot up onto the dashboard to give him better access.
He was trying to climb over onto me but there wasn’t enough room—not in his little Roadster. When I whispered that fact to him, he grunted, pulling his hand away from me and moving to open his door. A moment later, he was opening mine, and I was still sitting there with my panties askew, my heels off, and my dress shoved up to my waist, struggling with the seatbelt.
He leaned over me and popped the button, pulling me out of the car and crushing me to him, his tongue digging deep into my mouth. I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling his hands roaming over my ass, squeezing and lifting me, pressing my crotch to his. I could feel how hard he was through his trousers.
Then he was turning me around, pressing me over the hood of the car, shoving my dress up higher on my waist. His hands moved over my ass, my thighs, and I heard his zipper and the felt his cock pressing against my panties. He shoved those aside, his fingers finding me again, moving in and out of my wetness—and I was wet, soaking wet, my panties moist with my heat.
He didn’t bother to take them off, he just replaced his fingers with his cock, shoving himself deep inside me with a growl. I moaned, pressing my cheek to the metal, the engine still ticking as he started to fuck me, my hands out in front of me, just letting him take me. I could see the Christmas lights of the neighbor’s house across the street, a blurred red and green glow as he rocked me against the Beemer’s electric blue hood. He hadn’t even shut the garage door.
“You like that?” he whispered, grinding his pelvis into me, his cock buried so deep it almost hurt. I couldn’t catch my breath to answer, I just whimpered, but I arched my back and pressed against him in response.
He reached over me, grabbing my arms and twisting them behind my back. I gasped, wriggling and moaning, as he held my wrists with one hand, still fucking me, harder now, driving me against the cold side panel of the car. He slapped my ass with the other hand, making me squirm. The hot sting felt good in the night air.
I could see my breath, panting out in white streams toward Mr. Klein’s house across the way—and I could see Mr. Klein, walking across his living room. I wondered if he might be able to see us, and the thought was beyond exciting.
John was grunting with every thrust, his breath ragged. My panties were snug between my legs and every time he shoved into me, he pulled them up tight between my lips and effectively massaged my clit, the friction building up as he fucked me, really rapidly now, all the way into me, working hard.
“Oh god,” I cried, feeling his hand tighten around my wrists, pulling me back against him and driving deeper, deeper still, into my pussy. “John, make me come!”
I could still see Mr. Klein, and I think he was at his window, but I didn’t care. I ground myself back against John’s cock, wanting more and more, until I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. I was dizzy with wanting, feeling the ache between my legs moving toward release.
John grabbed my hip with his other hand, forcing himself hard up into me, growling and grinding, “Ahhhh god, baby, take my cum!” Feeling the first wave of him, hot and pulsing, coupled with his hips pounding against mine, forced me over, too, and I came hard, my pussy squeezing him, milking him.
“Ohhh yes, ohhhh!” I moaned, thrashing on the hood of the car, quivering beneath him.
He pulled out of me, and the cold of the night rushed in, making me shiver. He didn’t let go of my wrists, turning me around to kiss me, his mouth a little softer now, but not much, his tongue still probing deep, his bare thighs pressing me back against the car, my ass resting against the cool edge.
“Now,” he whispered, keeping me pressed against him, his hand still tight around my wrists wrapped behind my back. “Do you believe me, that I think you’re sexy?”
I smiled, feeling dizzy, wrapping my leg around him, digging my heel into the back of his thigh. “Yes,” I breathed, kissing him and holding on tight…
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Under Mr. Nolan’s Bed
By Selena Kitt
eXcessica
Leah and Erica have been best friends and have gone to the same
Catholic school since just about forever. Leah spends so much time
with the Nolan’s—just Erica and her handsome father, now, since
Erica’s mother died—that she’s practically part of the family.
When the girls find something naughty under Mr. Nolan’s bed, their
strict, repressive upbringing makes it all the more exciting as they
begin their sexual experimentation. Leah’s exploration presses
deeper, and eventually she finds herself torn between her best friend
and her best friend’s father—but even she couldn’t have
predicted the shocking and bittersweet outcome of their affair.
EXCERPT:
I always felt funny peeing in that bathroom at night, knowing that Mr. Nolan was right on the other side of the door, but I never locked them, because they were the push-button kind of locks that made so much noise when you pressed them. I never even turned on the light. I guess I hated the thought of waking him up more than I feared getting walked in on.
Although it looked like he was still up—there was a faint glow from under the bathroom door, and as I stood there listening, I heard soft noises. The TV, of course. He probably fell asleep with it on.
I lifted my t-shirt a little and pulled my panties down to my knees when I heard his voice, low but clear as could be: “Fuck her hard, yeahhhh!”
My eyes wide, I turned back toward the door, where that light flickered underneath. Did he have someone in there? Then I remembered the television, and something Erica had mentioned this afternoon about his video collection. We hadn’t gotten into any of that before he came home, but I knew then that he must be watching something pornographic.
And masturbating. The thought made me tingle. My hand went to the bathroom doorknob, the silver handle cool against my flesh.
“Yeah, baby, that’s it,” he growled, making me press my ear to the doorjamb. I couldn’t see anything at all through the crack in the door, but I was desperate to see. “Fuck that hot little cunt!”
His words made my knees weak and my mouth dry. As carefully as I could, I began to turn the handle. I knew the layout of his room almost as well as I knew my own—Erica and I had been best friends since first grade and I’d spent countless hours at her house. I knew that directly on the other side of the door was a little alcove with a closet, and that the alcove opened up into the larger space of his room, where his bed was kitty-corner from the bathroom.
I could see him. The door slipped open almost soundlessly, the latch only making the barest scraping noise, the hinges not squeaking at all. I could see part of the bed, and across from that, the television sitting on the dresser. Mr. Nolan was facing away from me, stretched out naked. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see his hand moving between his legs as he watched the scene on the television.
It was the television that drew my eyes first—two women, the dark-haired one on her back, the blonde between her legs with her fingers pistoning in and out of the other girl’s pussy as she licked her. The camera was close up, showing her pink wetness, completely smooth. I stared, my fingers brushing the softness between my legs, wondering what it would feel like without hair.
Then the camera panned back to reveal a man behind the blonde, his cock pounding into her from behind. He was gripping her hips, squeezing and pulling them as he fucked her, driving into her and making her moan against the other woman’s pussy. The sounds alone were enough to make me wet, if I hadn’t been already—the slick slap of their bodies, the moans of the women, the grunts of the guy behind them.
A sound from Mr. Nolan drew my attention to him again, and I saw that the hand between his legs had stopped, and he was squeezing his cock head hard in his fist. I bit my lip, watching him slowly pull the skin down tight as he moved his hand toward the base, staring at the length of him. He wasn’t as big as the guy on the screen—but almost! I was fascinated with the way he touched it, now pressing it up against his belly and rubbing it up toward his navel as he watched the threesome on the screen.
“Oooooh yeah,” he moaned, taking it into his fist again as, on the TV, the three of them were rearranging themselves, the blonde lying on the bed, and the dark-haired woman lying on top of her, both of them on their back. The guy knelt between their legs, fucking first the girl on top, then the girl on the bottom, switching back and forth. Mr. Nolan’s hand was pumping again, his hips bucking a little.
My fingers moved over the soft, wet hairs of my pussy, and in spite of the fact that I’d just recently had an orgasm, I started to rub my clit again, spreading my legs, my panties still caught at my knees as I pressed my eye to the crack in the door to see better. I’d forgotten all about having to pee—in fact, the pressure to go just increased the pleasure as I worked my clit in fast little circles.
The girls on the screen were kissing, their tongues meshing, as the guy between their legs fucked first one, then the other. Seeing his cock, so slick and wet as it came out, the head of it bright red as he slipped it up and down before sliding it back in again, was almost as good as watching Mr. Nolan’s hand shuttling up and down the length of his shaft. I couldn’t decide where to look, and my pussy was so wet I could feel it spreading to my thighs.
“Fuck me, fuck me!” the girls on screen begged. “No, me… me!” They were fighting over who got to feel his cock inside of them, and I wondered what it would be like to be fucked, to be pressed into, filled with that steady, rhythmic pounding of my flesh.
I looked at Mr. Nolan, who was pumping very fast now, the movement of his hand a flash up and down in the ghostly light from the TV. His soft moans sent shivers through me, making me rub my clit a little faster, matching his intensity. I couldn’t help pulling my t-shirt up over my breasts and pressing my nipples against the door.
“I’m gonna come!” It was the guy on screen, pulling his cock out of the blonde on the bottom and aiming it toward the dark-haired girl’s shaved pussy. She was spreading it open for him as he began to come, grunting and moaning and shoving his hips forward as huge, white-hot jets of fluid began spilling onto her mound.
I almost groaned out loud when Mr. Nolan grabbed the remote next to him, hitting the rewind button—I wanted to see the rest! Back the tape went, back to when they all first started rearranging themselves again. My fingers were slick with my juices now, and I wanted to shove two of them inside me, but I was afraid he might hear the noise, even with the TV on, so I just focused on my clit, the hot, wet sensation between my legs growing with every moment.
Mr. Nolan’s hand was moving even faster, and I could hear his breath, the sound of it filling the room, panting with his effort. I looked from the screen to him and back again, the intensity of the experience pushing forward, upward, making me rub myself off even faster, my forehead pressed against the door frame, my nipples brushing there, too, hard and throbbing.
“Fuck, oh fuck, yeah, yeah,” he moaned, his hand a blinding streak up and down his cock, his hips bucking on the bed, and I could hear the bedsprings, just like I had with Erica. On the screen, the guy was pumping hard into the blonde, growling and bucking, too, and I heard him say it again like some hot, delicious deja-vu: “I’m gonna come!”
“Fuck yeah!” Mr. Nolan groaned, his hips really pressing up hard now, his hand pumping. My pussy was on fire, and my fingers were taking me with him, so close, my breath matching his. “I’m gonna come all over that pussy, baby!”
It all happened at once—the guy coming on the screen again, the dark-haired girl spreading her smooth, shaved lips so he could aim his cock right there, right against her clit, shooting hot streams of white fluid onto her pussy. There was so much of it, wave after wave, dribbling over her fingers spreading her open, down the pink folds of her flesh.
And Mr. Nolan was coming, too, his cock erupting over his hand again and again, a geyser of hot, white cum spilling down his fist and onto his belly. I couldn’t take it—my swollen clit was throbbing, aching for relief, and I came, too, watching him thrust and grunt and spill even more cum as it slid down the length of his shaft, my pussy contracting so hard I wanted to scream, but I had to bite my lip to keep from making any sound at all as I shuddered and bucked against the doorframe.
My ears were ringing and my breath was coming so fast I could barely control it. Mr. Nolan was rubbing his softening cock against his belly and on screen, the blonde had wiggled out from under and was licking the cum off the dark-haired girl’s pussy. Feeling guilty now, I shut the door as quietly as I could, making sure the latch didn’t make that tell-tale “click” as it closed…
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The Sybian Club
By Selena Kitt
eXcessica
T
asha
convinces her husband, Max, to buy her a Sybian, but he only agrees
if she can come up with a business plan to pay for it. Determined to
keep her promise, she creates The Sybian Club and begins bringing
women to the basement room set up just for her new toy. It becomes so
popular, she has to enlist the help of new friend, Ashley, to keep up
with the demand, and the women enjoy an exciting ride as the business
thrives. But Tasha has developed feelings for Ashley, and doesn’t
know how to tell her husband that she wants to add more to their sex
life than just a new toy…
EXCERPT:
“It will blow your mind!”
That’s what Nicki had said. Kim sat in her car contemplating the average looking suburban house, tempted to turn the key in the ignition and just take off again. What am I doing here? She glanced down at the hands in her lap, her nails ragged, and sighed. Marriage therapy, individual therapy, various serotonin-altering drugs, even a weekend away at some swinging couples resort, and still, since the second baby, there had been nothing, not any hint of a spark. This is my last resort.
“Hi!” The woman who swung the door open smiled warmly. Kim admired the way her short, dark hair curled like two commas, one on each cheek. “You must be Kim?”
“Tasha?” Kim returned the woman’s smile with a hesitant one of her own, suddenly all too aware of her mousy brown mommy’s ponytail and her unstylish sweats and hoodie combination.
“Come on in!” Tasha was dressed to the nines, her heels clicking on the stairs as she led the way down. “Nicki told me all about you.”
Kim flushed, following the dark-haired woman into the room. “All… about me?”
Tasha smiled, offering her a seat. Something about her made Kim feel immediately comfortable. “Listen… we’re both women. We know what it’s like, right?”
Tucking her purse under the chair, Kim sat, frowning. “I guess so…”
“Our bodies are like fine tuned machines,” Tasha said, picking up a remote and sitting next to her guest. “We need all sorts of revving up and tinkering with to get to our destination, you know what I mean?”
Kim cleared her throat and couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, sure.”
“And it isn’t always easy to be interested, when you’re already tired, and you’ve spent all day picking up after the kids and cooking dinner…” Tasha went on, and Kim stared at her, nodding encouragement. “It isn’t easy, especially when… well, you know most guys… I mean, some of them… the numbers on the clock don’t even change by the time they’re done, right?”
Kim let out a sigh of relief. She knew Nicki must have told this woman everything. “I just need time, you know? Like… some build up…”
Tasha nodded sympathetically. “Or… you need a ride on the Sybian.” She started the video, and Kim sat, transfixed. They had tried all sorts of things, including watching porn together, to get her interested in sex again, and this was rather tame in comparison. But there was something about it… the look of sheer ecstasy on the woman’s face! It made her feel weak and a little dizzy just watching.
“Does it feel as good as it looks?” Kim asked, feeling a tingle between her legs.
Tasha smiled. “Better. Ready to try it?”
Kim was already toeing off her shoes and pulling her sweats and panties down over her hips, unmindful of stretch marks or her cesarean scar. Tasha didn’t even raise an eyebrow when she stripped off her hoodie, too, unhooking her bra and letting her breasts, full and slightly pendulous from still nursing her six month old, swing free. She climbed up onto the machine completely nude, except for a pair of purple socks.
“Can I have that one?” Kim asked, pointing to the life-like penis. Her eyes were bright, and whatever nervousness she’d been experiencing had been replaced by anticipation.
Tasha fitted the insert onto the machine and squirted a little clear lubricant down the shaft. “These are the controls, like you saw in the video. This one is vibration, this one is rotation.”
Kim looked down at the box in her hand, suddenly doubtful that it could do any more than the hundred other sex toys they had tried over the years. Still, the look on the woman’s face in the video kept coming back to her. What the hell? It’s worth a shot. She positioned herself over the plastic cock, using the black box in front of the Sybian to steady herself as she slid down onto the slick length of it.
“Once you get the hang of the controls, I can go, if you want me to,” Tasha said.
Kim flicked the switch marked “vibration,” smiling at the sensation between her thighs. “Mmm… nice.”
Tasha sat down in the chair, smiling. “The good thing about the Sybian is that you don’t really even need a lot of foreplay… it takes you right there.”
The woman riding the machine closed her eyes, rocking her hips against the flesh-colored ridge pressing up between her pussy lips. The hair there was light brown and trimmed neatly. Tasha watched Kim’s face, fascinated by what she saw there. It happened to all of them—that look of surprise that changed to awe and wonder, and eventually, carried them away.
“Oh that’s so good,” Kim murmured, rocking and rolling with it.
“Don’t forget the rotation,” Tasha reminded her. Kim opened her eyes, surprised out of her blissful state, and looked down at the box. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”
Doubtful, Kim flicked the switch. She had never had any luck finding that mysterious “G-Spot,” and had serious doubts about the veracity of women’s claims about having one. She was pretty sure it was all something women made up to get men off and make them feel like having a penis rubbing up inside the vagina actually felt good. For Kim, back when they were having sex and she was into it, even a little, it had always been about the clit.
Frowning, Kim wiggled on the machine. There was pressure deep inside her as the plastic penis began to slowly rotate. The vibration was sending lovely waves of pleasure through her, and she turned that knob, making it hum faster.
“It takes a few minutes for the rotation to start to feel good,” Tasha explained. “But once it kicks in…”
Kim nodded, not really hearing her. The sensation was increasing, and her pussy responded to the buzz of the machine, clamping down on the cock between her legs. She couldn’t believe it, but she was going to come—so fast! No vibrator ever had made her come so fast! Moaning, she gripped tightly to the machine, her thighs quivering as her orgasm began, her clit making circles over that slick, vibrating ridge.
Tasha watched, crossing her legs and feeling that dull ache between them. She wasn’t wearing any panties, and she had just climbed off the machine not an hour before Kim had arrived. Her pussy was spasming, though, like the ghost of a memory, longing to feel it again.
“That’s good,” Tasha whispered, wiggling in her seat, as she watched the woman come. The dark points of her nipples were hard, and she noticed that tiny beads of milk were forming there as Kim moaned and rocked her climax to the brink and beyond.
“Oh my god,” Kim gasped, brushing the stray hair out of her eyes that had fallen from her ponytail. She looked at Tasha through half-closed eyes. “That’s incredible!”
Tasha nodded, smiling. “Keep going, sweetie… turn it up.”
Kim shivered, turning the knob on the rotation a little higher. She didn’t think her clit could stand any more vibrating. The cock inside her turned faster, forcing her flesh to move and give with each pass. It made her feel a little like she had to pee, and she glanced down guiltily at the wetness between her legs, wondering if she had.
“Keep riding the wave,” Tasha urged, seeing the woman’s eyes close again as the machine worked its magic.
Kim’s pussy had never felt so good. Her whole body felt as if it were on fire, and the pressure building between her legs was intense. She leaned into it, letting the cock inside her do the work, the rising shake and hum of the machine working once again on her clit. Her breath came faster and faster, and her moans filled the room.
“Ohhhh please!” Kim was begging, now, although there was no one to plead with. The machine was relentless. “Oh fuck, oh yes, oh what… what… is… that?”
Tasha smiled at the confused look on the woman’s face, realizing what was coming—her first g-spot orgasm. Kim’s body stiffened, her eyes flying open, and then they closed, her face twisting, almost as if she were in pain.
“Oh FUCK!” she cried, bucking her hips on the machine, her back arching, her ponytail completely gone now, her hair falling down her back. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Kim’s nipples weren’t just beading milk, now, they were streaming thick white rivulets down her belly as she came, running down to join the pool of sticky wetness between her thighs. Nothing had ever felt as good as this, and although she never wanted it to end, the sensation was so intense that she almost couldn’t stand it.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she whispered over and over, quickly turning the machine off and climbing down, as if she couldn’t get away fast enough. “What is this thing?”
“Heaven,” Tasha sighed, smiling at the woman as she leaned against the table, wiping hair off her sweaty brow. “Don’t you think?”
Kim stared at the dark-haired woman, still too shocked to speak. She hadn’t had an orgasm since before the baby was born, and she didn’t ever remember coming so hard, or like that, before. She wasn’t sure, but she thought that the machine had actually found that fabled g-spot.
Tasha was beginning to clean up the room, and she offered Kim a warm washcloth.
“I want to do that again,” Kim confessed, using the cloth to wipe the milk from her belly and breasts.
Smiling, Tasha handed her a card. “Well… you’re in luck. We’re starting a club.”
Sound Good?
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Naughty Bits
By Selena Kitt
eXcessica
D
avid
has been brightening up his gray
Surrey, England days with the porn collection hidden in his parents’
shed, but when he finds that his older sister, Dawn has discovered
his magazine collection, things really begin to heat up. Their
parents insist that their just-graduated son look for a job, but
their daughter has the week off and is determined to work on her tan.
Distracted David finds himself increasingly tempted by his seductive
older sister, who makes it very clear what she wants. Her teasing
ways slowly break down the taboo barrier between brother and sister
until they both give in to their lust… but what are they going to
do about the feelings that have developed between them in the
meantime…?
EXCERPT:
If my mum and dad found out about my collection of porn in the shed, I knew they’d both kick-off and I’d be sleeping under a bench in the Underground, buying papers to keep me warm—instead of buying them like I was now, looking for a job. As it was, they were on at me to find something, and fast. I didn’t get why I had to figure it all out, what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. What was the rush?
My sister, Dawn, got to preen around the health club at her summer job. So why was I supposed to find something “responsible?” Dawn had been living at home since she finished school, aside from a couple of disastrous attempts at living with a roommate that my parents had ended up paying more for in the long run, anyway.
My parents made all sorts of exceptions for her. I had hoped that her laziness, or as my mother put it, her “lack of focus,” might pave the way for me to spend some time loafing off after I finished school, too, but no—apparently, Dawn got the welcome mat, but I got threatened with the boot. I didn’t get it.
I shut the back door and looked up at the sky. We didn’t get days like this in Surrey very often—so bright and blue and clear. We spent most of our time walking around in the usual London grey, looking at a hazy kind of film over the sun. Days like today made me remember being a kid, endless summers with no responsibilities, no cares, no worries. So much for that, I thought, flopping the paper down on the patio table and glaring at it.
I sat in one of the folding chairs and took a highlighter out of my pocket. The first thing I circled was a construction company. Maybe I could find something working outside—get a tan, build some muscle. That might lead to getting a girlfriend, I thought hopefully. That got me to thinking about Julie Entwistle, the girl rumoured to wear nothing under her skirts in sixth form. She sat right next to me in English, but I never did see anything—not that I didn’t try. For a girl who was supposed to be a slag, she sure kept her legs together a lot.
Thinking about Julie’s skirt, and more importantly, what might be found under her skirt, made my jeans uncomfortably tight. I shifted in the chair, shoving at my crotch and turning the page of the newspaper, re-focusing my efforts. The ad that caught my eye read: Exotic dancers wanted to perform at private, solo, and bachelor parties… I snorted—so much for trying to focus. Now my cock was officially hard. I glanced over at the shed, thinking of the boards my dad stored in there that “might come in handy” some day. They came in handy for hiding my porn collection.
I folded the paper up and tucked it under my arm, heading toward the shed. My dad’s toolbox doubled as a step stool and was perfect for sitting on. I dug under the boards, pulling out my meagre collection. Two Playboys and a Penthouse, although the latter was a “Letters” edition, and the stories were pretty hot. The last one was my favourite, a magazine called Naughty Bits, which was way more hardcore than the others. I’d never seen another one before or since, although believe me, I’d looked.
I opened it up to my favourite page, and there she was. Blonde, although clearly dyed because her pubes were dark, a full-breasted and full-bodied girl—really unusual for most spreads nowadays where the models were like stick figures. This woman was, well… a woman.
The next best part was the layout itself—a girl all alone on her bed looking at porn. Did girls do that? I loved how she rolled over and spread her legs, revealing that there was nothing under her skirt. She started masturbating, and would you look at that, next page, here comes her brother. Probably it was her boyfriend, but I had this fantasy in my head that it was her brother. And the next thing you know, she’s sucking him off. God, how I wished it was that easy. Hi there, whoops, didn’t mean to interrupt, but since I’m here, zzziiiip, flop, here’s this hard cock you can suck…
I unzipped my jeans and tugged them down a little, slipping my hand into my boxers. Nowhere near as big as the guy positioning his cock at her pink little hole (I loved that picture, her fingers spreading herself open for him like that. Gah! Did girls do that?) but respectable enough—nice and thick, and most definitely stiff. She did it for me, every time. I started masturbating, my eyes skipping from the wet pink of her cunt to her thick, dark pink nipples. I spent some time there, wanking away and staring at the slit between her legs. She spread it open with both hands, and there was a little hole there, right where I wanted to slide my cock, a small dark hollow leading to heaven.
I got myself good and worked up before starting to turn the next page, because it was my favourite, and it was the image I always came to—her ass up in the air, his cum sliding down her asshole and cunt. I was looking forward to that image, still staring between her legs. I only stopped for a moment, breathless, to turn the page, and I saw something that made my cock jump and my heart race. There was writing in the margin, near the page number. An arrow toward the girl (god, look how that thick cum slid down that pink slit!) and the words, “She looks like me.”
That was Dawn’s handwriting—the fat, curly letters, the heart over the “i.” My sister had been looking at my porn? Why, I wondered? If she wanted to get me in trouble, she could have taken it to my mum. Instead, she just wrote in the margins. And what she’d written! I flushed. I knew the girl looked remarkably like my sister—the dyed blonde hair, the full body, the mischievous eyes, the slanted smile—that was Dawn. Was she just making an observation? Was she implying that I lusted after her?
I didn’t have any more time to think about it. Someone was knocking on the shed door! I stood, tucking my cock back in and zipping up, shoving the magazines back under the pile of boards.
“David!” It was Dawn. Of course, who else? My parents wouldn’t be home for hours—it was only ten in the morning.
“What?” I called, trying to sound impatient. I tucked my paper back under my arm, grabbed a can of insect spray off the shelf and opened the door.
She was standing there in a white bikini, the flesh of her breasts spilling over the top. My cock, with barely enough chance to wane as it was, jumped to life again at the sight.
“Jesus, Dawn!” I made a face. “Put some clothes on.”
“It’s gonna be sunny and warm all day.” She put her hands on her hips and drew my eyes there. “I’m spending my time catching rays!”
“Whatever.” I stepped out of the shed into the fresh air.
“What were you doing in there?” She smirked, peering into the dim shed.
I waved the insect repellant at her. “Big-arse spider out on the patio table.”
“Sure there was.” She moved toward the lounge chair where she had spread a towel. How long had she been out here, I wondered?
I put the can on the table. “There was. It’s obviously crawled off somewhere. Maybe it’s on your lounge chair.”
She stuck her tongue out at me. “Quit being such a pain in the arse. I’m in a good mood and you’re not going to spoil it.”
Dawn positioned her chair, looking up toward the sun as she did, and then crawled on. Her bikini bottoms rode up between her cheeks and I flashed on the picture in Naughty Bits that I’d found the writing on—her arse up in the air, cum sliding down her slit. I sat down at the table, putting the paper in my lap to cover my erection.
“What’s got you so perky?” I scowled.
She was lying on her back, now, and she lifted her sunglasses to look at me. “It’s my first day on holiday, you git! Two whole weeks off work!”
I turned my chair away from her, opening my paper back up. My cock was still throbbing and watching her oil herself up out of the corner of my eye wasn’t helping. She was slathering lotion all over, rubbing it into the creases, even between her toes. I could smell the stuff, like coconuts, as if a tropical smell was supposed to make you turn darker.
“You find anything in there yet?” She dropped the lotion next to her chair and leaned back. Her breasts jiggled in the white bikini top when she did, and I couldn’t help watching. Seeing real flesh move was different from looking at a picture in a magazine. I found myself wondering what it would feel like to touch her there, just the top of her breast, all shiny from the oil. I flushed.
“No.” I turned my eyes back to the paper. “There’s nothing out there.”
“Well, mum and dad won’t let you scrounge off them forever, you know.” She threw an arm up over her head.
“Sod off!” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not the one who’s still living with my parents at twenty-five.”
I stood up, deciding to go into the house. Maybe take another shower. I felt hot and sweaty, although it wasn’t really that warm out here, yet.
“Hey.” Dawn lifted her sunglasses again. Her eyes were soft, and so was her smile. “You wanna do something for me?”
“If it involves lotion and your back, forget it.” I reached for the back door. “I’m your brother, remember?”
She stuck her tongue out. “If you’re going in the house… maybe you could bring out one of dad’s bottles of wine?”
I raised my eyebrows at her. “The good stuff?”
“Yeah.” She grinned. “Why not? Let’s celebrate my holiday…”
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Back to the Garden
By Selena Kitt
eXcessica
Discover the deliciously taboo lure of an incestuous siren call with four stories bundled into a wickedly hot anthology that’s determined to keep it all in the family!
When Patrick's father went off to war in 1944, he told his eighteen-year-old son, You’re the “Man of the House” now. Patrick’s mother has struggled to keep them afloat, and he does what he can to help. He knows she’s tired, sad and very lonely, but when circumstance brings a young woman into their lives for a brief time, it alters everything between he and his mother forever. Will Patrick become the real “man of the house” before his father returns from the war?
In
“The Garden of Eden,” Libby has lived her whole life with her
father, Ed, in a nudist colony. It’s a very open, natural life, and
they’ve never had an issue—until Libby’s mother, Kim, re-enters
their lives. Kim is appalled by their living and sleeping
arrangements and wants to take Libby away from the nudist life.
Libby, still devastated by her mother’s abandonment, wants to have
nothing to do with the shopping trips and material things her mother
is offering, but the longer Kim stays, the more everything
—everything—becomes a greater temptation.
In
“Lassoing the Moon,” Leila knows she’s always been closer to
her son, Rich, than most mothers, since Rich’s father left when he
was just a baby. He’s been the man in her life forever—but now
he’s really a man, and his coming-of-age is a test for both of
them.
In
“Lost Souls,” eighteen-year-old Lily, raised by her
fundamentalist preacher father, Adam, isn’t allowed to date or do
anything against church “law.” Asked to the Halloween dance by a
boy she really likes, Lily defies Adam. But when they are caught in a
compromising position by her father, what will her punishment and
repentance be?
EXCERPT:
She was going to hell. There was no getting around it—do not pass go, do not collect $200, she was going straight to hell without any little orange “Get out of hell free” card.
“Your turn.”
Leila rolled the dice, moved her little shoe, and bought Baltic Avenue for a song. She could start putting houses on it now, since she owned Mediterranean as well. But she wasn’t thinking about Monopoly. She couldn’t think about anything, watching her twenty-year-old son home from college, sitting out in the living room in his boxers watching The Ultimate Fighting Championships on ESPN.
She was so going to hell.
“Ha! You owe me!”
Leila glanced up at her niece, startled, and forked over the money. Small price to pay for a little bit of freedom. If she just kept rolling the dice, moving around the board, no one would notice that she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, looking at the tight, ridged muscles in his stomach, the dark line of hair that disappeared below his boxers, dreaming about the hard cock she had accidentally caught him stroking in the bathroom that morning…
“Don’t you want to put hotels on!?” Chloe nudged her aunt under the table, making a face. “You’re not paying attention!”
Damn. Caught. Leila bought four houses, arranging the green plastic pieces on the board, glancing at the clock. Her sister should be back soon to pick up Chloe, anyway. There was no way they were going to finish this game.
Rich was making fake punches in his seat, watching the fight. “Oh, man, he opened himself up for the leg sweep!”
“Boardwalk!” Chloe squealed, bouncing in her seat and waving an orange five-hundred dollar bill. “Gimme, gimme!”
Leila, as banker, gave over the property and her a hundred dollar in change.
“Dude!” Rich yelled, jumped up in his seat. “Fucking choked him out!”
“Rich!” Leila warned, nodding her dark head toward Chloe.
“Whoops,” he said, walking toward the kitchen table. “Sorry, punk.” He ruffled Chloe’s hair as he went by, heading for the refrigerator. “Nothing you haven’t heard before, right?”
“Not the point,” Leila said, watching him standing in front of the open door, the light casting a glow over his strong jaw. Sometimes, like now, he looked so much like his father that it made her heart hurt…
Sound Good?
Escaping Fate
By Selena Kitt
eXcessica
S
am
has an unusual interest in humans—well, considering she’s a fairy
of fate whose profession it is to determine their futures, it’s no
wonder! But it isn’t just Karma she’s curious about… Sam has
what her fairy-pal Alex thinks is an inordinate and rather wanton
interest in certain biological aspects of human behavior—most
notably, s-e-x.
When Sam’s job leads her into the path of a handsome man who rocks her world, Sam’s interest becomes obsession. Alex reminds her that fairies get one Christmas wish – will Sam consider using hers to become human to experience one night of bliss?
When things become even more complicated—Sam discovers that Drew, the sexy stranger she’s been fantasizing about, can actually see her—Sam finds herself immersed in a complex and tangled web of human experience. She has to make a choice that will teach her a twisted lesson in fate, ultimately change the course of human existence and even reveal the origin of Santa Claus!
EXCERPT:
Cats are the worst. It’s the wings. They love to play with the damned wings. I can’t count how many times, out of nowhere, I’ve become some feline’s personal play toy. You’d think I’d been rolling in catnip, the way they come after me!
One minute, I’m just sitting here minding my own business—okay, so I’m minding someone else’s business—perched on the footboard and watching the show, and the next minute—wham! Now I’m rolling around on the bed with Anna and her new Beau, except they’re having a good old time, and I’m trying to save myself from Fluffy’s claws!
“Beau, put him out,” Anna begs.
Brilliant idea! The damned cat’s got my wing pinned and he’s about to pounce on my head! I’m flopping like a landed fish and the cat’s tail is swishing like mad when Beau grabs him by the scruff of the neck. Just in time! I stick my tongue out at the cat and shake off my wings while he hisses and spits and sails out the door.
“Where were we?” Beau climbs back into bed and dives under the covers, making Anna giggle wildly at first, until she begins to moan.
Damned comforter! I give her a little “push,” and she kicks off the covers, revealing the spread of her hips under his hands and the swell of her breasts with their hard, dark nipples. His face is buried between her legs, and he’s making those noises, like he’s eating something sinfully delicious.
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