Friday, 8 November 2013

Leanne [mmf, first-time, cuckold, hotwife] (Dangerously Dirty Diaries Vol. 3)

Leanne is a happy twenty-something engaged to the man of her dreams, but one day she discovers a startling secret in her fiancés browser history: he wants her to sleep with another man. This is something of a surprise to Leanne, a girl who’s only ever experienced the touch of her high-school sweetheart, her soon-to-be husband Jeff.  Although she’s reluctant at first, she eventually begins to warm to the idea and finds herself increasingly flattered and deeply aroused. In order to collect her thoughts, and even come to terms with bedding a handsome stranger, Leanne decides to keep a sex journal.

This is that journal.

This short story is roughly 11000 words in length, and contains steamy sex between a loving couple, oral sex, messy creampies, sizzling sex between a first-time hotwife and a handsome stranger, and passionate, silky seconds between two soon-to-be married lovers.

Available from Amazon, B&N, and Google Play.

“Leanne?” his voice is a little husky, but friendly. Or I’m horny. Probably both.

I rise to meet him and awkwardly shake his hand. By the time I realize what I’m doing, he laughs a little and his eyes sparkle.

“I guess I’m just nervous,” I begin.

“That’s okay,” he assures me, “we’ll take things as slow as you want.”

I nod silently.

“So Leanne,” he asks, raising his brow playfully, “what did you have in mind?

“Everything,” I grin as I lean in for a kiss.

His lips are soft and warm, and his stubble is scratchy against my face in such a good way. His hands are strong and feel so good on my hips. His touch is electric. I savour the warmth of this new body against mine.

Dean actually looks surprised at how fast I’m on him. He tries to say words between our kisses, but I won’t let him – I’ve got lost time to make up for. My jean jacket hits the floor.

I know I’m becoming soaked by just feeling the warmth and desire in his body. I try to focus on him, but our eyes are glazed with burning desire. I run my fingers along the back of his neck, and through his hair as we kiss. He pulls me in tighter, as one of his hands runs along my side and begins to tease at my breasts through my shirt.

Good boy.

I begin to nibble his neck and I can feel his breath begin to shallow in his chest. I don’t have time for words. Somewhere in my heated mind, I find it sweet that he’s still trying to take things slow for my benefit. But Dean needs to understand that I’m long past the point of taking things slow: I want it all, and I want it now.

Everything’s a lusty blur, and I realize I’m standing in a puddle of fabric that was my skirt.

Like a lioness stalking her prey, he had no chance. I bite his neck and he grunts approvingly, digging his hands into my ass. I’m too distracted to notice if he just pulled my shirt over my head.

I think he did, because I’m topless.

I lock my eyes with his. They’re a pale, wintry blue, so unlike the wilds of Jeff’s hazel.

Dean tries to speak again, but I’m burning a smouldering glare through him. He can’t help but smile when he realizes that my next kiss is upon his chest, followed by another upon his tummy. Then his burnished belt buckle.

I’m kneeling before him in worship. I flash him a wild, pleading look. Apparently Dean and Jeff are more alike than I originally thought, as the lip-bite that I’ve been working on for the past ten years causes him to groan.

I fumble with his belt-buckle unsuccessfully and giggle. He smiles through closed eyes as his strong hands nearly wrench it apart.

I reach into his boxers and grasp his shaft. It’s hard and hot. He quivers at the delicate, cool touch of my hand. I pull him out and give his meat a slight squeeze. He’s iron hard and already glistening with droplets of precum.

The desire to taste him upon my tongue is practically dizzying...

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