They became Shadow Lovers, the lot of them, for all time, cursed to feed upon those energies best expended only between husband and wife. Or upon blood. And only on the dark of the moon.

Forced to leave their beloved beach so as not to saturate the land with their poison, only Vesper remained behind to care for the family estate, and wait for the unholy captain’s return.

But time and tide and the feverish nightmares left behind in her victims after her embrace do not wait for dark nights to move in their unstoppable, mysterious ways. A juggernaut of hellish proportions is coming to the beach—and there’s only one way to stop it. Hard-headed and proud, Vesper won’t accept that fact. She’d rather die fighting than flee and live. Good thing the only person alive able to control a Mooncusser’s daughter has returned to the cove. And his blood-ties to the beach are just as thick as hers.

Mooncusser Cove -- a modern day retelling of Frankenstein with a Brigadoon twist. Ghost ships! Curses! Land pirates! Vampires who feed on sexual energy! The persecution of witches! Just another day at Vespers by the Sea bed-and-breakfast at Mooncusser Cove.

Length: 5 hours, 27 min

Narrator: Kate Daniels

$19.99

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Who can resist having sex when they shouldn’t?

Forbidden fruit tastes sweet, and Explicit Encounters meets those who aren’t afraid to reach out and take a bite. From affairs conducted behind a partner’s back to acting on deepest fantasies, these stories reveal what happens when illicit sex becomes too much to resist.

Twenty erotic stories in one anthology!

Good girls, bad boys and people who simply love to break the rules can all be found in Explicit Encounters.

Explicit Encounters is a Super-Anthology which includes the following four anthologies:

A Cowgirl Honeymoon

A Lesson Learned

MILF and Cookies

Rule Breakers

Length: 6 hours, 59 mins

Edited by: Elizabeth Coldwell

Narrated by: Jim Bowie and Hayley Stuart Frank

$19.99

Excerpt:

I got gingerly to my feet and leaned against a tree. Tex was murmuring into Mohawk’s ear and then he gently picked up the horse’s leg and examined the hoof. He put it down and gave the beast a reassuring stroke along the flank; I wished desperately that it was my rump he was stroking like that and I had to bite my lip to control my ragged breathing.

My heart was thumping in my chest as he came back toward me.

‘Yup, he’s lame all right,’ said Tex. ‘You’ll have to come up on Jet with me. Mohawk won’t be able to carry your weight.’

He tied Mohawk’s reins to the back of Jet’s saddle so the lame horse could follow us home. Then he gave me a leg up on to his own horse with an easy grin. I felt his eyes raking down my body as I swung my leg over and wriggled forward on the saddle to make room. Seconds later he was sitting snugly behind me, with the reins in his left hand and his right hand resting on his hip.

‘Giddy up, Jet,’ he said and I felt his thighs tightening against the horse’s side.

I sat bolt upright, hardly daring to breathe and certainly not relaxing into the rhythm of Jet’s stride. Although I was hardly touching him, I could feel the warm proximity of Tex’s skin, despite the cotton of our checked shirts and the narrow space between us. It was at least a two-hour ride back to the ranch and I was already starting to feel turned on. How the hell was I going to survive the trek without making my feelings obvious? But as I looked around, I realised we weren’t going back the way we’d come.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked, swivelling in the saddle to look up at his chiselled features.

‘Seeing as how old Mohawk is OK without a rider, I thought we’d carry on up to the Ridge,’ he said. ‘That OK with you?’

I swallowed. ‘Sure,’ I nodded, turning back to face forward. But as we rode on in silence, I was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on the scenery. My back started aching from sitting so rigidly straight and the low, rhythmic sound of Tex breathing so close to my ear was driving me wild. I wriggled to try and get comfortable and my shoulder blades brushed up against his chest. That one move lit the fuse and, defeated, I slumped back against him and gave in to what I now knew to be inevitable.

‘That’s better, honey,’ he whispered. And as he adjusted his position in the saddle I could feel the burgeoning bulge in his groin pressing up against the small of my back, while my mons was rubbing up against the pommel with each swaying step. My breathing became faster and, completely without volition, I knew my hips were grinding back and forth against his. His right hand snaked up my side and then popped open the front of my shirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra and Tex growled with pleasure as his hand encountered my nipples, already proud and erect as they became engorged with longing. He twisted and pulled them between his finger and thumb until I cried out with the exquisite pain, then he leaned me sideways so he could bend his head around to kiss them. A pulsating electric current ran from my breasts to the pleasure centre between my legs and I writhed against him, moaning uncontrollably as he flicked his tongue against my nipples and gently teased them with his teeth.

As I begged for satisfaction, he dropped the reins across Jet’s neck and used his other hand to start undoing the buttons of my jeans.

‘Feels like you need this pretty bad,’ he said as he slid his hand down into my panties. I gasped. Within seconds his fingers had found my clit but then they searched further round, stretching deep into the warm, wet recess of my vagina. I quivered as his experienced hand explored and sought out my G-spot, applying gentle pressure with small circular movements. Then, with his thumb, he started to stimulate my clit at the same time. He had me slung across his lap and was literally playing me like an instrument – the sensations soared through me like music, building in a spectacular crescendo as I responded to his skilful touch.

As he worked his hand faster my pussy was awash with juices and flooded with pleasure. My back arched and my hips bucked as the orgasm ripped through me and I shuddered as he kept the waves crashing over me for what seemed like an eternity. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced with Kyle or with any other man. My soft moans had risen to cries of ecstasy and I was left panting and breathless. Holding me tight, he gently withdrew his fingers from my throbbing vagina and my body slumped against him like a limp rag. I was drenched with sweat and I could smell the earthy scent of my juices on his hand as he held my chin steady and bent to kiss me. His tongue forced my lips apart and explored my mouth hungrily, and without breaking away from me, he slipped gently off the now stationary horse and pulled me down into his arms. I kissed him back; the monumental orgasm had hardly dulled my hunger and I could feel through his bulging jeans that Tex needed the sort of satisfaction that only I could give. I rubbed my hand over his crotch, pressing hard, and he responded with a low, throaty growl.

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Five short stories about explicit sexual encounters that break all the rules.

Rule Breakers by Rachel Kramer Bussel

What could be better than sex with Serena? Secret sex with her gorgeous husband, Rob, of course. And as the couple have an open relationship, Carla isn’t breaking any rules – just learning that what’s sauce for two lovers is even saucier for three …

Real by Jay Raymee

He keeps telling himself what he’s doing isn’t really cheating on his wife. One-night stands, using hookers, sex with no ties, no emotions – it’s what you do when you no longer desire the woman you married. But what happens when things get real?

Ready Or Not, Here I Come by Lynn Lake

Tess Jansen just had to get laid. She’d turned eighteen in April, and now she was so ripe and juicy, ready and willing, that she could hardly slip her little white shorty-shorts on without coming. Only problem was, her skateboarding, BMXing boyfriend, Mike, was completely oblivious to her squishy need. If only there were some other, real men around who might put her out of her sweet sexual misery …

The Game by Daniel Savage

Is it possible to hit new highs of sexual tension, arousal and fulfilment without actually making physical contact with another? When two strangers of a like mind meet by chance in a hotel they decide to play a game to find out …

Date Night by Ariel Graham

When Charlene meets her sexy neighbour Cory while he's out searching for his wife's cat, she has no idea the chance encounter will lead to realisation of a long-standing fantasy for her and her husband, Vince. Vince has been too shy to initiate sex with another couple, but the proximity of their bedroom windows leads Charlene and Vince to accidentally catch Cory and his wife, Anna, in the act – and the next time it isn't quite so accidental.

These stories have also been published in Explicit Encounters

Length: 1 hour, 56 mins

Edited by: Elizabeth Coldwell

Narrated by: Jim Bowie and Hayley Stuart Frank

$7.99

Available February 14, 2012

Excerpt:

n theory, what we are doing right now, at 2:34 in on a Tuesday afternoon, is supposed to be OK. There are rules, and technically we are abiding by them – or we would be, if we’d let Serena in on our little secret. But Rob, Serena’s husband of five years, and I haven’t let her in on anything, so instead, we are sprawled out on their marital bed while she is at work, and we are very much not working, unless you count his tongue buried in my pussy and my lips bobbing up and down on his cock “work”. I don’t; I consider this pure pleasure, the kind of bliss that makes pesky everyday things like rules melt away.

‘Just forget about her for right now,’ he’d said the first time it happened, when I’d stopped by to drop off some brownies I’d baked for my curvy girlfriend – her favourite kind, dusted with cayenne, giving them a hint of spice – and wound up kissing him. With her fire-engine red hair (though sometimes it’s a shocking blue or purple, just to mix things up), Serena is the type of woman who likes spice, which is why she’s always insisted on having an open relationship with Rob, even though I’m pretty sure he’d be just as happy to have her all to himself. He’s more of the quiet, intellectual type, his bookshelves filled with Dickens, or maybe a political treatise he’d read about in the New York Times Book Review. He’s the type who you can never guess what they’re thinking until they speak, whereas Serena is the very opposite; she has no poker face whatsoever. She was the one with the ravenous appetite – for food, for sex, for life – the one who could never resist a locked door or “do not enter” sign, who was always restless unless she was shaking up the status quo. Sometime I was surprised she’d ever gotten married at all, but she’d told me over and over how Rob had seduced her in every way, how he was game for anything, how he had the biggest cock she’d ever seen – or tasted.

The thing is, when she started dropping hints about him, I became curious, and then more than curious. How could I not when she talked about him in such rapturous tones? Her giddiness was replaced with something else, an almost wistful tone, her cheeks pink with her own ardour. She wasn’t shy about bragging about Rob, and didn’t mind my increasingly probing questions, not even when we were in bed.

‘Oh, he likes it when I use these clamps on his nipples,’ she said once, laughing as she dangled them in the air, then attached them to my nubs. The more of these little morsels she shared, when we were out at the movies, where her fingers inevitably wound their way up my skirt and into my panties, or at a restaurant, where she’d tell me his favourite drink, the more I wanted to get to know this quiet man who’d shacked up with, married, partnered with such a glam, gorgeous woman. Did he revel in her outrageous flirting the way I did, or was he ever jealous? Did he like being the calm to her storm? I love Serena, in my own way; how could I not? She is the essence of a party girl, and she is always looking for, and finding, a good time.

But there is only so much of that wildness I could take before I wanted to know the man who was the yin to her yang, and that day, something about how he looked in his rumpled shirt – he’s a writer who works from home, and he’d been taking a nap – made me want to ravish him, to taste him, to see which one of them I most resembled. Was I the quiet one waiting patiently for Serena to come home, or would I, with him, take on her role and overtake him? I was on my lunch hour, so I didn’t have long, but I felt maybe a little of what she feels when she looks at him, this need to shake him up, to run my fingers through his messy hair, to rip the buttons off his shirt, to find out what lies beneath the surface.

‘Oh – hi,’ he said, startled even though I’d had to give my name at the door, then rise up thirty floors in the elevator of their high-rise building. I was bundled up for winter, my cheeks flushed by the cold, grateful for the added colour on my skin.

‘I brought brownies,’ I said, laughing, wondering if he noticed the tension in the room between us, a tension I’d never noticed before when the three of us had dinner or hung out and watched movies on their big-screen TV. ‘You should try one,’ I said, forcing a maturity, a command to my voice, that I wasn’t really feeling.

‘Sure,’ he said, easy, casual, and moved toward the tin.

‘No, let me,’ I said, taking off my hat, scarf and coat and suddenly feeling overdressed in my navy pencil skirt and ivory silk blouse. I used the edge of one of my long nails to ease off the top of the tin, the smell of chocolate and spice wafting through the living room. I needed to do this my way, and my way, apparently, involved grabbing Rob and slamming him up against the front door. ‘Close your eyes,’ I said. ‘They’ll taste better that way.’ I’d never touched the man before, had only fleetingly thought about his body when Serena had imparted something about the way he kissed or fucked or came; in those seconds, I’d get flashes of him naked, of his body spasming, his glasses off, his limbs quivering. I knew what Serena looked like in the throes of orgasm, but this, it was rapidly becoming clear, wasn’t about Serena at all. Their home, zapped of her all-consuming energy, suddenly took on a life of its own.

His eyes were closed, and I broke off a corner of a brownie, then brought it toward his lips. They were soft, thin and gentle, smooth as my fingers brushed against them and inserted the piece directly against his tongue. I reluctantly eased my fingers out and watched him, his eyes closed, his mouth processing the spice and the sweet. I couldn’t recall what kind of eater he was, if his palate was mild, like his personality, or whether lurking inside was the kind of fiery tongue possessed by his wife. I kept my face close to his, letting him feel my breath against his lips, waiting until he was done. I didn’t ask – not about what he thought about the brownie, or if he wanted me to press my lips against his; I just did it. You can tell if someone wants a kiss or not, if their lips yield to yours or not, if they sink into your passion or shrink away from it. Maybe our lips best express their intentions in their actions, rather than their words. A kiss can’t lie, and this one certainly told the truth: Rob wanted me.

As my tongue traced his, catching hints of brownie, then going further, claiming Serena’s husband’s tongue as mine for this stolen moment, he answered me back. His tongue said, ‘Yes, please, take me.’ So I did; I shoved my tongue deep into his mouth, not thinking about Serena, but just feeling his body flush against mine. And that was how it started. That afternoon it was just a kiss; I had to leave, and I wanted to think about whether I was ready for this before jumping in fully.

He took care of the rest. By the time I got back to my office, there was an email from Rob ... with a photo of his hard cock. Then another a few minutes later showing me his come. I hadn’t been with a guy since my last boyfriend; I’d met Serena and she’d been more than enough for me. Maybe he wasn’t so mild, after all. I didn’t miss cock per se, but I knew I couldn’t say no to Rob; I suddenly missed him, needed him, and couldn’t deny the way he made my whole body light up. Serena lit me up too, but if they didn’t have to choose, why did I? Serena had a host of other lovers and, as far as I knew, Rob didn’t.

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Five short stories about explicit sexual encounters that break all the rules.

MILF And Cookies by Michael Bracken

While spending Christmas break with his college roommate’s family, Bobby is seduced by his roommate's long-divorced mother, a sexy blonde with a body that would be the envy of any college cheerleader. Mrs Parker entices him with warm chocolate chip cookies and glimpses of her in a diaphanous red nightie. Then she feeds him breakfast in bed and what he eats isn't just her bakery goods. By the time he and his roommate return to school, Bobby has come to appreciate the unique holiday combination of ‘MILF and Cookies’.

Taking Her Out by Penelope Friday

Leah has been waiting for Jay all evening. Waiting to be seduced. But Jay has other plans for her. How can she cope with him taking her out when all she really wants is for him to take her?

Deeds Of Mercy by Giselle Renarde

Mercedes’ romantic world has grown into a man-eating monstrosity! She really does love her fiancé, Anwar, so why does she keep prostituting herself to Simon? It isn’t that she needs the money. Well, OK, the money’s nice and it gives her a cheap thrill every time she adds Sex-with-Simon cash to the Wedding-with-Anwar fund, but it’s not like she’s living at subsistence level. She doesn’t need it. But she likes it. She enjoys the naughty thrill of prostituting herself to her married ex-lover while her husband-to-be remains oblivious.

Ghost by Kay Jaybee

Jo had almost got out of the habit of listening for Sam’s distinctive knock at the door. Almost. Everywhere she goes she see’s reminders of him; of the company Sam works for, of the places they’ve secretly fucked together; making her miss him all over again. He isn’t even hers to miss. When, after three months, Sam turns up unannounced, something in Jo snaps. Her normal submissive stance is abandoned in favour of spanking her lover’s arse. It is time to show him just how hard it is living with the ghost of their affair ...

Making the Most of All in New Zealand by Eva Hore

When her cousin’s husband, Jeff, decides to take her on a horse ride on her last day she gets exactly what she was hoping for. With her thighs spread wide over the horse’s back she realises that this rugged Maori is the one she’d rather be riding and he doesn't disappoint.

These stories have also been published in Explicit Encounters

Length: 1 hour, 38 mins

Edited by: Elizabeth Coldwell

Narrated by: Jim Bowie and Hayley Stuart Frank

$7.99

Excerpt:

Mrs Parker had gone to bed long before Charlie and I headed upstairs, so I was surprised to run into her when I came out of the bathroom. She stood in the doorway to her bedroom, more in shadow than not. The sash of her ankle-length white terrycloth robe wasn’t pulled tight and an inch-wide gap revealed a short, gauzy red nightie underneath. She didn’t appear to have anything on beneath the nightie. I wore a thin pair of sweat pants and I’m certain she could see the outline of my inflating cock through the material.

‘It’s going to be a long week, Bobby,’ she said. ‘A long, hard week.’ She reached out and touched my cheek, letting her fingernail trail along my jaw line. ‘I hope we’ll be friends before the week is over.’

Charlie’s door opened and his mother stepped back into the shadows of her bedroom.

‘You done in the bathroom yet?’ Charlie asked.

Mrs Parker shook the robe off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Moonlight filtering through the window behind Charlie’s mother confirmed that she wore nothing beneath the nightie, then she pushed her bedroom door closed.

‘Just finished,’ I said.

Charlie and I crossed paths in the hall. He stepped into the bathroom and I put myself to bed in the guest room.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I saw Charlie’s mother standing in the doorway, holding a tray containing a glass of milk and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. She wore red spike heels and a red apron with a white snowman embroidered on it that hung from her neck and fastened around her waist. I blinked when I realised she wasn’t wearing anything else.

‘Charlie’s father called and wanted to see him. He’ll be away all morning,’ she said. ‘I thought you might like breakfast in bed.’

‘Mrs Parker,’ I said, ‘you’re trying to seduce me. Aren’t you?’

‘I’ve seen the movie, Bobby,’ she said as she crossed the room and put the tray on the nightstand. ‘And you’d be correct.’

She broke off a piece of one of the cookies and pressed it between my lips until I had taken her middle finger all the way in and her palm cupped my chin. I sucked and sucked hard.

Using her free hand, Mrs Parker flipped back the covers, revealing the cock tent in my sweat pants. Then she slowly drew her finger from my mouth. She fed me another bite of cookie and then a third.

I tried to rise but she put a hand on my shoulder and pressed me back into the pillow. Then she climbed on the bed and straddled me. My stiff cock pressed against her thigh through the thin material of my sweat pants, but she wasn’t interested in my cock. She slid upward until she had her hands pressed against the wall, her thighs around my ears, her apron draped over the top of my head, and her pussy poised above my mouth.

‘I have something better for you to eat, Bobby,’ she said. Then she lowered herself onto my face. Her curly blonde pussy hair tickled my nose while I licked her swollen pussy lips. I don’t know what she’d been doing before she entered my room, but she was already wet with desire.

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Five short stories about explicit sexual encounters that break all the rules

A Lesson Learned by Kyoko Church

Poor Shirley. The quiet 36-year-old stay-at-home mom had been wishing forever for her stale, married sex life to be more exciting. Sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for. Now she’s realised that her online Master is actually her husband, the shackles of the married roles burst open and their sex life goes from meh to hotcha! Communication flows and so does Shirley’s pussy. Something must be done. More of Shirley’s horny confessions lead to further lessons from her Master. He even has to bring in reinforcements.

Good Girl by Clarice Clique

How far can the bounds of an open relationship be pushed? What happens to a marriage when a woman looks beyond her husband to find her ideal lover, a man who is the perfect master? A housewife finds there is more than one way to be a good girl.

Applied Literary Theory by Orlando Zinn

A graduate student registers for a dreaded summer seminar in literary theory, mentally preparing himself for six weeks of boredom; only when a sexy Parisian professor enters the scene does he become aware of the subject’s surprising applications.

Oh, Brother! by Lucy Felthouse

When Lara turns up to help her best friend Rebecca move house, she's not surprised to see Rebecca's younger brother mucking in. What does surprise her is the fact that Marc – who she'd last seen when he was about 11 and harbouring a huge crush on her – has grown up into a total hottie. It appears he still feels the same way about her. They flirt madly behind Rebecca's back, and continue to do so at the housewarming party some days later. Finally, they give in to their attraction, which brings not only smoking hot sex, but the realisation that at some point, they're going to have to tell Rebecca.

The Relapse by Tabitha Rayne

Recovering sex addict Jim, tries his best to shock his therapist, Dr Leigh. Instead of being abstinent and following the rules, Jim has been a very naughty boy with an equally naughty girl he has met. He delights in telling the stunning, sultry doctor all the juicy details, hoping to prompt a reaction from her. Will he be punished for falling off the wagon? Or does Dr Leigh have something rather more interesting in mind ...?

These stories have also been published in Explicit Encounters

Length: 1 hour, 58 mins

Edited by: Elizabeth Coldwell

Narrated By: Jim Bowie and Hayley Stuart Frank

$7.99

Excerpt:

Things had been a little strained in Shirley’s house lately.

Strained, ever since she and Marcus made their instant messaging discovery – she a little later than him. Their own Internet version of The Piña Colada Song resulted in feelings of betrayal and guilt in both of them, rendering their house silent, but with the unsaid words creating a tension, as if those silent words were present and hanging in the air between them.

Shirley realised now that she had felt suffocated by their hemmed-in lifestyle. Suffocated and unfulfilled. They both had been playing roles: she the good little wife; he the strong and stoic husband. They unconsciously made up mannequins of those roles, like empty shells they then tried to jam themselves into. They just didn’t fit. And the effort and frustration of trying to make it fit had been driving them apart.

Now, though. Shirley thought she might gladly go back, gladly take unfulfilled over the churning in her stomach the tension in her marriage was creating. Finally she could stand it no longer. They couldn’t continue on this way. She and Marcus needed to talk. But when she finally reached out to him, she used the medium that had served them so well, and yet had done all the damage in the first place.

She messaged Master G.

SexyShirley36: Sweetheart, can’t we talk about this? I know I was wrong. But you were too. It seems we both want something more. There were parts of ourselves we were holding back. How long until we can be honest with each other?

Shirley waited. A while. It said he was online. But there was no response. And then.

Master G: When I’m horny and it’s not Friday I masturbate while I think about fucking you.

Holy crap.

Marcus?

Shirley figured this wouldn’t be a big admission for most men. But Marcus never talked about touching himself and she had certainly never seen him do it. So often she’d wanted to break free of their ho hum Friday night sex ritual, had wanted him more often, in different ways. Why hadn’t he told her?

But before she could ask there was this:

Master G: Your turn.

Shirley’s face turned bright red and her heart started racing in her chest. Her? What did she have to say? You know what you have to say.

Master G: You asked for this. You asked for honesty. Was it only supposed to come from me? R we going to do this?

Okay, Shirley thought. All right. Here goes. She took a breath. And then typed.

SexyShirley36: I want you to dominate me.

Master G: Good girl. Go on.

Shirley smiled slightly at Marcus resuming some of his old Master G style. Her domination admission made her heart feel like it was going to beat out of her chest but his “good girl” response injected a little bit of mischievous fun into the mix. Made her feel a little reckless. What’s there to lose? You want honesty. He wants honesty. So tell him.

Suddenly a torrent of words poured from her fingers on to the keyboard.

SexyShirley36: What I mean is, I want you to tell me what a horny slut I am for being constantly wet from wanting you. And for touching myself and making myself come. I want you to explain to me that my body is yours, every part. I exist solely to provide pleasure to you. I want you to punish me, teach me a lesson for being so horny and impatient. You would teach me this lesson by stripping me, tying me up and teasing me unmercifully until I was begging for release. Then you would explain to me that my pussy is yours and you are the only one who is allowed to make it come. And that if you allow me to come it will only be for your amusement, not because I deserve release. Only because you enjoy watching me come.

Realising she’d been typing furiously with him waiting, she pressed “enter” and then continued quickly, as if whatever demon, whatever courage, whatever whim had entered her mind and allowed her finally to release all of these pent up, secret desires might suddenly leave her, leave as quickly as it had come. And she didn’t want to live another second without Marcus knowing the truth.

SexyShirley36: When we’re alone, in bed, I want to serve you. I want to call you “sir”. I want to be your sex slave. I want to always ask for permission to come and to only sometimes be allowed.

It was only at this point that Shirley stopped and realised she hadn’t heard anything from Marcus in a while. She had felt free for a moment, as though she were typing to Master G. But what would Marcus think? Confused, she stopped, suddenly worried that Marcus was sitting at his computer appalled and disgusted. But wait, Marcus was Master G, she reminded herself.

Then came his response.

Master G: I won't let you come often. You’re a wet little slutty pussy and u need to learn patience, so I will ration your orgasms. Your wanting and impatience amuses me. When I do let you come it will be slow. Maybe I’ll use a feather or a paint brush, so the feelings are just enough to push you over the edge, to make your pussy contract. But not enough to satisfy your hungry pussy that I know only wants to clench around my hard cock.

My God.

Shirley pressed her legs together and felt herself throb in excitement. His words sent her head into a swimming mass of lust and confusion. Marcus? Master G? Somehow she couldn’t meld the two personalities who had seemed so separate in her head into the one man she now logically knew he was. Did it really matter?

SexyShirley36: Do you want to know more? There is more ...

Master G: Tell me all of it

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Five short stories about explicit sexual encounters that break all the rules.

Cowgirl Honeymoon by Tamsin Flowers

Sugar couldn’t be happier – she’d always dreamt of having her honeymoon on a ranch and now she was luxuriating in the joys of having a hot stallion between her legs both day and night. But when her new husband Kyle cries off sex because he's saddle sore, Sugar starts wondering about his motives. Is he punishing her because he never wanted to come ranching in the first place? Desperately disappointed, Sugar goes out riding with ranch hand Tex. As they trek through the forest, she can't stop thinking about what she wants to do with Kyle later - until her horse goes lame and she's forced up on to the same saddle as the cowboy. He seems to know what she’s thinking and being saddle sore isn’t a problem...

Golden Boy by Landon Dixon

They had nothing in common other than his daughter, but when Clyde extended his hand to the young man, Evan brushed by it, threw his arms around Clyde and hugged the older man warmly. Clyde felt the throb of the teenager’s semi-erect cock against his own, and he unconsciously clenched Evan’s tight, mounded butt cheeks, a wonderful, tingling sensation flooding his own body and loins. It was just the beginning of finding what they did have in common.

Room 22 by Vick Guthrie

When guests at Marvin’s Hotel start complaining about the noise coming from Room 22, it’s down to Miss Williams, the assistant manager, to sort things out. It seems the troublesome guest has a not-so-hidden stocking fetish, and she knows a way of dealing with his antics that will satisfy her desires as well as his.

Star-fucker by Jade Taylor

She’s the photographer all the celebs flock to. He’s the actor she’s had a secret crush on for years. She makes it a firm rule never to sleep with any of her subjects – but in this most intimate of photo-shoots, some rules are meant to be broken …

Working Late by Heidi Champa

Linda is on her way to her husband's office and she's left her panties at home. She's on her way to give herself over completely, to be used, teased and thoroughly fucked. His every wish is her command and her ultimate pleasure. Except, Linda's husband is all the way across town at a business dinner. But, her husband's handsome boss is there waiting and willing to give her exactly what she needs.

These stories have also been published in Explicit Encounters

Length: 1 hour, 29 mins

Edited by: Elizabeth Coldwell

Narrated by: Jim Bowie and Hayley Stuart Frank

$7.99

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Gabby refuses to even consider Derek for the role of soul mate because she fears sex will ruin their friendship. Derek has his own script in mind, and it doesn't include sharing Gabby with anybody.

When an early morning earthquake hits LA, Gabby realizes who her leading man has always been.  As for the Big O...well...she's ready for her close up.

Length: 2 hours, 3 minutes

Author: PG Forte

Narrator: Gina Maravella

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Plans go hilariously and seductively awry when mild-mannered Audrey Thompson dresses as Ava, her flamboyant but cowardly twin. It is Audrey's task, as Ava, to break up with Ava's fiancé, Zach Banister. However, as Audrey is stuffing her bra and tottering around in her sister's stilettos, she falls for Zach instead. Little does she know Zach has an agenda all his own.

Length: 4 hours, 21 minutes

Author: Rebecca J. Clark

Narrator: K.D. Linder

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Can fantasies come true?

Asia Kendell hopes so. She's allowed two men to wrap her nude and eager body in red rope and leave her as a birthday present for their best friend, Ritter.

Will Ritter be man enough to fulfill her dreams? Can he possibly guess what she really wants?

Ritter's pretty sure he can and he's not going to waste a moment of his time with this delicious, naked, bow-tied package waiting for him in hotel room.

Sometimes a man  - and a woman - get exactly the gift they want.

Length: 2 hours, 42 minutes

Author: Vonna Harper

Narrator: Gena Maravella

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Excerpt:

“You and Mike have lost your ever-loving minds.”

“That might be. Damn but I wish I could see your expression right now. Have you seen her?”

“Her?” Sharp, tiny teeth of either apprehension or anticipation nipped at his spinal column. “What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t. She’s there all right. You just have to go looking for the ultimate in gifts. One thing-she’s exactly and everything you said you wanted.”

“You didn’t!”

“Hey, what are best friends for? One sex slave tied up in a bow and delivered.” With that, Mike hung up.

Ritter’s first impulse was to beat a hasty retreat. If he never laid eyes on the woman in question, he could pretend the whole thing had been a bad dream. Only, even if it was a dream, he couldn’t honestly call it bad, could he? Besides, his cock was demanding he satisfy its curiosity.

Tied in a bow?

Walking on the dense, long carpet reminded him of what it had felt like to run onto a natural turf baseball field after a heavy rain, which might have something to do with energy charging through him. He’d been joking when he’d yammered on about his desire for his own living, breathing sex toy, and yet he hadn’t. Sometimes, usually as he was falling asleep, he gave his mind the freedom to play with possibilities. Responsibilities be damned. Modern law be doubly damned.

Fantasy full steam ahead.

She, if there really was a she, obviously wasn’t on the bed, and she hadn’t been on the couch. She might be behind the door he figured led to the bathroom, but if the faint sound he’d heard was a clue, he didn’t think she was that far away.

There it was again. Near the bed. Something brushing against something. Zeroing in on the exact location as his experienced catcher’s eyes had once locked onto a foul tip, he looked down at what he figured was the foot of the bed.

A lump, a mound, a shape. Not particularly large. Not moving.

His heart responded with a crazy series of thumps, and his groin tightened. Something locked down inside him. A well-worn door born of a lifetime as a modern man closed, while a bright and overwhelming and wild one opened. Even as his eyes worked to make sense of what they’d discovered, he turned his back on thirty-three years of modern civilized behavior.

The shape belonged to a woman all right. Unless the red ropes circling her wrists and ankles counted, she wore absolutely nothing. Someone had gagged her with an orange ball that filled her mouth, held in place via a leather strap that went around the back of her head, making a bit of a mess of her shoulder-length hair. She had on a dark blindfold.

This was his best friends’ birthday present.

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Now a series of break-ins has the small community pointing fingers at one another. Are they the work of a petty criminal among them, or does someone have a more sinister purpose? With no way out, Geneva must solve the mystery; but all the clues lead straight to Jack. Is the one man who melts her heart about to take her life? Or will Geneva find the real killer before it’s too late?

Length: 46 pages

Author: Jennifer Traveler

This Ebook is available in the following formats:

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