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Keeping House
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ISBN-10: 1-55404-627-0
Genre: Ultra-Erotic Romance
eBook Length: 139 Pages
Published: November 2008

From inside the flap

Jessica Stoner, a flight attendant flying an overseas route for a major airline, arrives home to find that her live-in lover just departed for Florida to be with an old flame. Barbara Dexter, her best friend, calls her at three o’clock in the morning to announce that she is leaving town. Jessica discovers that Barb has set her up for a nine o’clock appointment with Garrett Appleyard, Barb’s former employer. Garrett, a multi-millionaire businessman, needs a housekeeper. When Jessica learns that the job comes with a six-figure income, furnished quarters, and an expensive new car, she realizes that the job entails more than pushing a vacuum cleaner around the floor. Jessica listens as Barb offers her a long, mesmerizing, exquisitely detailed description of the now-deceased Mrs. Appleyard’s sexual performances. She also extols Garrett’s prowess as a lover.

As she listens, Jessica opens her mail, and discovers that the now-downsizing airline just laid her off. Jessica realizes that she must get a new job right suddenly. Having debated with herself, she decides to keep the appointment Barb made her to be interviewed by Garrett Appleyard.

Having been thoroughly briefed by Barb about what will be expected of her during the interview, Jessica dresses in a manner sure to capture the attention of her prospective employer. Having used the key Barb provided to enter Garrett’s house, Jessica catches a glimpse of Garrett Appleyard emerging from the shower. The sight of his powerfully erotic arsenal proves a massive turn-on. Thus stimulated, Jessica returns hastily to the dining room, where Garrett finds her waiting.

Jessica’s résumé consists of twelve professionally photographed, highly provocative shots of her nude, lovely self in yoga positions. The interview self-generates into a sexual frenzy that advances from feral desire into an intoxicating lustfest by two lively souls. The afternoon that follows involves every form of active urgency two people can dream up. A carnal marathon burns through the story like jet fuel through an afterburner. It’s love at first sight for both partners. Will love drive two talented experts in erotic artistry to marry?

Keeping House (Excerpt)

Chapter One

I strip off my thong in the car, in case Rob decides to meet me at the door. Actually, he won't really care what I'm wearing, as long as I'm willing to give him what he wants. The cute little item Rob loves to watch me put on finds a jacket pocket in the dark. Tonight, he will find nakedness in place of a thinly covered, swollen little pussy. Running in high heels is never easy, but it feels good tonight because of what awaits me in the apartment. Every step stokes my flames further.

The drive from the airport has been a hell ride - one that caught every red light along the way. I punch the fourth floor button while mentally urging the elevator to greater speed. The buzz of arousal increases as I step out of the elevator on the upper floor. The apartment door lies just ahead. I struggle to find the key.

While I stand drenching, I anticipate the extreme satisfaction awaiting me beyond the locked door. Every desire is now well beyond urgent. All I can think of is his rock-hard cock sliding into my swollen pussy. He'll take his time before visiting my girl part, and the wait will be interminable. Everything we do from this moment forward will be entirely about touch. Every essence will be erotically effective. His hands and mouth will increase my appetite for sex before he enters me to satisfy my need. The remembered toll of his savaging my pussy with long, slow strokes has ruled my entire world for the last ten miles.

I slip the key in the lock with a trembling hand. Only a few more steps before the thrill of returning home can have its way with me. Only minutes now before I experience the electric thrill of him slicing into me. I am panting by the time I slip through the door. All I can think of now are the pleasures awaiting me in the living room while I'm bent forward over the back of the couch. My naked little box is swollen in a familiar stirring. I have thought of this moment for all the highflying, long, boring miles the swift jet carried me. Only a few more steps now, before his cock and tongue commit themselves to servicing my cunnie. In short seconds, I'll surrender myself to being fondled by a dedicated lover.

The throb of anticipation ignites between my thighs as I drop my purse on the hall table. In mere seconds, every item of my clothing finds the floor. I stand naked except for the saucy little uniform cap. For stealth, I remove my heels. In seconds, I'll awaken him with fellatio. The vigor of his cock will set me further aflame before I surrender to penetration with my legs spread wide. I'll be able to savor every slick inch as he guides into my flaming box. At last my desperate hunger will be satisfied. If he can save himself from ejaculation I'll do what he loves.

After I've achieved orgasm, I'll administer the long, slow torment of fellatio to conclusion. The act will make him weep with pleasure as I bring him off. The prolonged session of cock tending will be a spiritual experience for both of us.

Now thoroughly naked, I slip into the living room ready for my lips to encircle and tease. Coming awake to a hungry mouth will prepare him to work me off with well-remembered vigor. Emotions of pleasure, exhaustion, and embarrassment are all now secondary to the anticipation of him dominating the deep, succulent space inside me. What awaits me just around the corner will be a shared journey fueled by sexual fire. The mere thought of what lies ahead in the darkness elevates my bold side. Being naked and inwardly aflame has removed all thoughts of dainty behavior. The tidal surge of extreme desire moves like a tidal wave as lust claims my woman-wound.

The apartment suddenly seems too quiet - no TV, no sounds of a sleeping man, no shifts of weight in the night. He's not on the couch, so I turn to move along the hall toward the master bedroom. As I move, my bad girl streak further asserts itself. The transition generates a feel-him-up tempest as I slip quietly through the bedroom door. Every fiber of my being seeks decadence leading to a multitude of orgasms.

The bed lies unmade and empty. I flip on the light. Instead of sexual utopia, I find myself staring at a note pinned to my pillow.

Hi Sugar. Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm leaving for Florida as soon as I finish writing this. You're a great woman, but you're just too much for me to handle. Sex everyday with a yoga instructor is simply too damned tiring. I can't keep up with you. I've come to realize I'm not the sex machine you need. I wish I was…Rob.

Disappointment rages through me. Not to be denied, I grab a pack of AAA batteries from a kitchen drawer before heading back to the bedroom. At the bed, I fumble with a nightstand drawer. One hand locates the vibrator, while the other clicks on the TV with the remote control. The screen illuminates, to reveal a busty blonde-haired woman engaged in what I had intended for Rob. In his haste to leave, he apparently forgot to remove his favorite DVD from the machine.

At present, the son of a bitch is hurtling along a highway headed east. He has foregone the heavenly feeling of being inside my mouth and juicing cunt in favor of what awaits him in Florida. The thought of sucking and fucking Rob becomes an infuriating influence as I prepare for the artificial cock to dominate my arrival home.

I slide a ribbed-lubricated condom onto my Battery-Operated Boyfriend as I prepare to receive satisfaction for the first time in three days. I decide that I should have taken the damned thing with me instead of doing without in Paris. Working international flights as a flight attendant is becoming too sexually frustrating to be endured. All the men in the crew are married and therefore unavailable to my hungry loins. The thought materializes that maybe I'm too damned particular. Perhaps a married cock would better know how to satisfy the internal itch the Robster is no longer scratching.

I lie on the sheet with my knees bent and my legs lolled open as I work BOB slowly around the edge of my swollen opening. After the erotic flush of submission claims me, I slide the artificial dick beyond my vaginal cuff. My cunt gobbles the thick, barely vibrating stimulator, while its flared head provides the thrill of insertion. Almost immediately, I succumb to the convulsive surge of orgasm. The feeling is a total killer. I hurl multiple screams at the mirrored ceiling while offering myself the soft rocking movements of gradually deeper penetration. As the Boyfriend moves inside me, the artificial cock stretches my woman cave. I work myself onto the stud while the slow electronic throb produces the satisfaction I so desperately wanted.

I offer up a moan accompanied by an urgent hip thrust as the sex toy burrows deeper. The pliable cock hums its magic while I revolve my cunt around the simulator. The slow, silky throb delivers a second undeniable orgasm as I try to hold back.

Holding back builds the spasm into a thunderously hysterical pulsation. The dramatic convulsion has me blurting gibberish during the wake-the-neighbors finale. Through it all, I writhe around BOB so he keeps the ignition building. Finally I reach my zenith with another flaming burst of sound. The turbocharged orgasm leaves me gasping, but wanting more. I begin slowly to stroke again. Instantly, the fading tingle reverses itself, so that it turns into another tsunami. Who needs a man? All I'll ever need is this.

Damn him! "Why did he have to do this to me?" I groan aloud. For him to leave with such haste seems unlike the Rob I know. Too much for him? That's a laugh. He wanted my mouth every morning, with my pussy every night another certainty. I had become used to garrison service everywhere in the apartment. My slightest grope would turn him into liquid flame. For eight months, he hadn't been able to get enough. The date on the note indicates he fled the same day that I crossed the pond. That means it was a planned event. There is a degree of consolation in knowing that when he walked out the door, he went flaccid, without needing a sexual fix.

Before I departed that morning, I thoroughly deflated his morning wood. Afterward, I skipped gaily through the door on my way to Paris. The son-of-a-bitch hadn't even reciprocated. He had left me hanging in orgasmic limbo. The last time I saw the bastard, he was lying on his back with his well-used member lying limply on his groin. Doing him before leaving had made me so incredibly horny that I could barely walk up an aisle on the highflying jet. It would have served him right if he'd had to carry his erection all the way to Florida. Janice slut would have taken care of it for him three days later. That thought causes me to realize that Janet cunt is probably doing him while I consider how this has all came about.

I turn on my side with my legs together and with my knees drawn up against my chest. I extend my left hand around my hip to work BOB from behind, in slow revolutions. Soon I come again in that position. While I spasm, I work the vibrator so that the feeling is even more delicious than the last time. Fuck men! All I need is sufficient battery power to tame my passion-choked pussy. No shattered rainbows in my future, unless sex toy technology fails. It's going to be hell, prowling bars in search of another cock to hold my pussy captive. Somehow a vibrator just doesn't satisfy the hunger the way a man does The underside of pleasure is to listen to a man beg for mercy when his manhood is too sensitive to be touched, but is stroked anyway. Rob's screams for compassion create glimmering fragments of memory for me to cling to. For the moment, what BOB offers is pleasure in place of frustration. As the toy works its magic, I hate Rob thoroughly.

Slowly, I pull the pulsing cock out of me. The condom finds a tissue before returning a girl's best friend to his blue velvet drawstring bag. Now that the inner buzz is no longer a distraction, exhaustion claims me. A deep seamless sleep turns my world to blackness.