Creature Experience: Extreme Taboo BDSM Erotica E-Book

Sydney Granger

• Herausgeber: Vintage Pulp Publishing
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

Excerpt: 

Suddenly the tearing agony was mellowed by squirting liquid and the terrible, burning friction lessened. That horrible, iron-hard roll vomited its seething load high in my ravished passage and was reluctantly withdrawn, leaving a trail of sticky sperm across the backs of my thighs. But still the stinking black animal was not finished with me. He moved quickly around the table and flaunted his reeking penis before my misted eyes, then forced my mouth open. Diane gleefully assisted in keeping my head still. Brick forced my rigid jaws apart. Unable to prevent his semiflaccid organ from sliding between my lips, compelled to hold its vile, reeking extremity in my mouth, I spluttered and retched. Brick, grinning evilly, asked: "How you like the taste of your own shit, sweetheart? Man, if your asshole is as sore as my prick I feel real sorry for you."
He laughed. Before I was eventually released Diane replaced the leather collar. I was thrown on the bed and Eddie promptly attempted to duplicate Brick's profane act, but allowed Celia to lure him away to the davenport where, lying on her back with knees drawn up, she clasped him fiercely, mouthing crude provocation, and had his penis inserted in the wet, slimy gash of her eager cunt the instant he mounted her.

Leseprobe

Creature Experience

Sydney Granger

Copyright © 2017

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

My knowledge of boys was slight. I was never allowed to mix freely, until, when I was eighteen, my mother died in an automobile accident and, soon after, my father married again. My stepmother, Camelia, was much younger than my father. She was a fleshy, voluptuous woman with jet-black hair and a condescending manner that infuriated me from the onset. She was mean and spiteful, and could never take my real mother's place. I resented and detested Camelia, but respected her for my father's sake.

Father was extremely wealthy, the owner of two newspapers, a racing stable, a yacht, a luxury apartment in London and a large country estate in Surrey. I wanted for nothing, except affection. After my mother died nobody seemed particularly concerned about my welfare. Camelia made my life miserable, and I loathed her although in father's estimation she could do no wrong. He idolized her, and she made a sexual slave of him. I often saw and heard more than I was intended to, but I was young and very innocent, in fact I had not yet grown accustomed to the (to me) revolting monthly ordeal of menstruation. I had no sexual experience whatever. I had inherited my mother's passionate nature but could not understand the powerful emotions that frequently tugged at me.

On the few occasions when I turned to Camelia for advice and explanation she derided my feelings and made me feel coarse and ashamed. Perhaps I was prejudiced against her and she was merely trying, in her own boisterous, uncouth way, to instruct me and to explain love and sex from her viewpoint. She was a torridly passionate woman, part Italian, a wanton creature. Her loose habits and speech and the careless way she exposed her body in front of the servants caused me acute embarrassment.