A tale of a private erotic encounter which is unexpectedly both theraputic and life-changing
You ring the door bell and the door opened seconds later. It is the man you had come to see. You had half-expected the house to be unoccupied, judging by the outside appearance in the darkening September evening.
"I wasn't sure you would come," he says, and you wonder why you did come, this evening.
He is dressed in a tight-fitting black tee-shirt and leather trousers. His short dark hair is combed carefully and his goatee beard is neatly trimmed. He moves to stand next to you, not touching, but close enough that you can almost feel the heat from his body. You can quite definitely feel his breath in your ear as he speaks to you.
"I have told you," he whispered, "That what happens here, tonight, is for my pleasure and my pleasure alone. Whether you enjoy anything I do to you is no concern of mine."
And you realize why you did decide to come here, this evening. Your live-in boyfriend - not husband, maybe never husband - is a sweetie. He licks you to orgasm, night after night, as reliably and diligently as he irons his shirts and mops the kitchen floor. Then, his duty done, he comes inside you, always inside you, always from behind, and falls asleep almost immediately, leaving you - not frustrated, exactly, but with a nagging feeling that you are missing out on something, something that is important to you.
The care, the tenderness, the kid gloves with which the boyfriend treats you is cloying, stultifying. You feel you can only react in one way, equally dutifully, equally boring. There is no mystery, no spontaneity; there is none of the nervous excitement that you feel now as a warmth, a surprising moistness, between your legs.
Strong and I must say stunningly honest, we crave what is different and taboo, society seems to think it is only men that want variety and taboos but that is just not so. A lot of women believe men want the perfect shaped barbie doll girls but the truth is most want variety as I think most women do down deep...short, tall, fat, thin, pretty ugly, young, old that is the truth as I see it anyway.
The ancient kings of Whitehawk were all too aware of the temptation of magic. They could feel its threat, a presence in their courts, a serpent slithering at their feet, even entering into their beds.
To de
Deemed One of the Top 10 indie Fantasy releases of 2010 by Fantasy Book Critic, and listed in the first ever Publishers Weekly Indie Select issue, the original 235k word epic title was written in longhand in a Texas prison cell by M. R. Mathias.
You ring the door bell and the door opened seconds later. It is the man you had come to see. You had half-expected the house to be unoccupied, judging by the outside appearance in the darkening September evening.
