Underhanded Underwear: Taboo Erotica E-Book

Aubrey Rain

• Herausgeber: Taboo Pulp Press
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

This book is hot. A trashy, sleazy, *full-length* (100+ Pages) post-censorship erotic novel. But, if you really want, here's the briefest of excerpts:

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Nadine with her innocence, and I with all my experience, were equally at a loss. Most girls lose their cherry in some furtive backseat stabbing that gives their man little pleasure and them none at all. Those who preserve it for a gala production-a rape on satin sheets with champagne growing stale in one corner-don't fare much better. Girls are usually so worried about making their rapist happy that they have little time to think of themselves. When they do, they're usually just lying there, bleeding slightly, wondering why so damn much bullshit is written about something that hurts a little and would probably hurt more if it wasn't over faster than Bugs Bunny seducing a carrot.

Now Nadine was rich. What could money buy her?

The biggest cock would only hurt.

The handsomest male with the most sex appeal, best technique, greatest staying power? Any good-looking broad with a modicum of luck could get that for free. During my last days, Nadine read to me from Havelock-Ellis. We puzzled our way through Krafft-Ebing's dirty sock chewers. We put our heads together and I nuzzled tender tits while she read from the Kama Sutra, The Perfumed Garden, some of the Chinese works. Was there nothing new under the sun?
 

Leseprobe

Underhanded Underwear

Aubrey Rain

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

Lovely Nadine of the long blonde hair. Nadine of twenty unblemished summers, Nadine of the body built for bundling, lovely sylph of heart shaped face and cock raising smile! Nadine of arrogant aureoles firmly skyward pointing at the end of those lovely ski jump slopes. Ah Nadine! Her lovely, thin waisted, all-systems-go body was trembling, thrumming like a well-tuned viola as she turned on with the thrill drill that was forcing me up her rosy lipped cunt, up her dew flushed vagina to ram me, stretched and panting against the fibrillation of her surprised cervix. For one moment both Nadine and I thought that rampant ram slammer would drive me right into her womb.

She gasped, trembled uncontrollably for a moment, then clenched her legs in a frantic effort to keep that flaming phallus from driving still another inch into her quivering quiff.

And there was I right in the middle, getting it from both ends, stretched to the breaking point as I reveled in the trimmest, juiciest, tightest twat I'd seen in over a year. Ain't science wonderful?

It was odd not to have arms or legs or, strictly speaking, any body at all. It was crazier, too, the way it had all happened. But when a man's dying, what can he lose? And if this was life after death, man, was I ever living!

Nadine was only eighteen when I first noticed her. Now, I was eighty at the time, and I suppose you'll say, "What business does a dirty old man have noticing little girls' legs?"

Well, a dirty old man has the same business on his mind as a young one. The only trouble is, when you're eighty it isn't liable to get anywhere besides your mind. But besides being a dirty old man, I was also a very rich old man.