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(So Naughty Erotica, Book 7)

Published by SpreadEagle Publications at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 by Meghan Alexis Moore

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Copyright © 2011 by Meghan Alexis Moore

All Rights Reserved.

Published by SpreadEagle Publications.

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Turning My Man Out!

Thank you!

Also by Meghan Alexis Moore


When Vanity discovers quite by chance that her man Calvin might be susceptible to a little anal play, she sets about conquering him.  And it's not long before she's graduated from pushing her slim fingers into his tight butthole to strapping on something substantially larger and giving him its full length.

Turning My Man Out!

I never realized how many men there were in the world dying for their women to strap on and attack their sweet little butt holes! My boyfriend Calvin and I have been together for six years and I have only just discovered his secret longing. I could weep for the lost time, but thankfully he’s allowing me to make up for it.

Six-foot-four, good looking, a hundred and ninety-two pounds of solid man muscle and not conceited about his looks, he’s still my fantasy come true.

He used to have simple taste in sex—mostly the good old missionary position. Occasionally, we used to do it in a chair, on the kitchen table, in the bathroom, on the backseat of his car or standing up. Nothing extreme. Nothing that would make me think that beneath his cool, happy exterior was a man who needed to be butt-fucked in the worst way!

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me relate the events as they happened.


“Vanity, are you coming to bed any time soon?” Calvin asked. “If not, I’ll deal with this myself.”

I turned from watching my favourite episode of Sex in the City and found him standing naked in the doorway of the living room holding his erect nine-inch cock in his hand.

He’d done it deliberately, knowing that I can’t resist a hard cock.

“Did I give you permission to play with yourself?” I asked annoyed, switching off the DVD and turning to face him. I didn’t like it when he left me out. I worried that he would have so much fun alone he would decide that he didn’t need me anymore.

“You said you’d be there ten minutes ago, so I decided to get myself ready,” he explained calmly.

He was right, of course. I’d just needed to see my girls for the hundredth time, but I’d told him that I’d be there in a minute less than fifteen minutes ago. He was asking for trouble!

“Your ass is mine!” I threatened stripping off my clothes and racing after him as he turned to go back into the bedroom.

It was an empty threat—I’m a slender, okay skinny, five-foot-three, he could snap me like a twig—but I really should punish him for making me turn off the DVD when Samantha was naked in bed with two gay men.

“Drop that cock and eat my pussy now,” I demanded as I climbed onto the bed with him.

It was what he would have done anyway, but it felt good saying the words.

Did I mention that we went through a similar routine every time we had sex? He played with my breasts a bit. I don’t have a lot of breast, so playing with them must feel to him like he’s playing with his own chest. I’d thought of getting implants, but he’d begged me not to.

Sorry, where was I? Oh yes, our routine. After a little breast play he would move southwards to my pussy and eat me until I was almost on the point of coming. Then he would guide his cock to my mouth and I would give him head until he just had to be inside my pussy or die! Then he would fuck me until I came and he would come shortly afterwards. A few times he came before me, but not often.

That was our sex life. It wasn’t bad.

I had no idea then how much better it would get.

Still in a commanding mood I laid myself back on the bed, spread my legs, and my pussy lips with my fingers and said, “Stick your tongue right up in there and fuck me until I tell you to stop.”

He went willingly, scooting down the bed until he was between my spread-eagle legs. Wrapping his arms around my hips he spread my lips to his satisfaction, pushing my fingers out of the way.

“Ah,” I moaned as he plunged his tongue deep inside me, rasping my inner walls and sending a shiver through me. Like his cock, his tongue was in proportion to his height and longer than most.

He carried on, stabbing his tongue inside me like he wanted to touch my womb. By then I was wriggling and trying to escape, but he wouldn’t let up. Finally a shock like a bolt of electricity started at my clit and raced to both my head and my toes. Screaming, I rubbed my clit against his nose and came, clasping my head to keep my brains from exploding.

Coming hard always left me weak. Twice I tried to raise my head off the bed and fell backwards both times. Laughing, Calvin got off the bed and went out the bedroom. He came back with a half a glass of red wine—all that was left from the bottle we’d had earlier with dinner. He propped me up on his arm until I drained the glass. I’d recovered with the first sips of wine, but I played it out a bit, wanting him to feel like he was the man.

“Right, it’s my turn now and as I said earlier your ass is mine!” I threatened again, grabbing hold of his cock as he stood at the side of the bed. Sitting on our low wooden designer king-size bed with my lack of inches, I was at the perfect height to give him a blowjob in comfort.

But surprised to find him as stiff as a poker in my hand even before I’d started, I told him, “Come and lie down on the bed. I don’t want you to fall over when I start because I’m going to suck your cock like it’s a Marks and Spencer lollipop—the ones I really like. I’m also due a facial and these breasts aren’t going to grow any bigger unless they get a shower of your rich sperm to fertilize them.”

He quickly lay on the bed, bracing himself on his elbows and planting his long legs on the floor, opening himself up completely as I knelt between them. He liked me to talk about his cock and about how I was going to give him head and what I would do with his cum. It usually ended up inside me, as I mentioned before, but we always played these little games beforehand.

After letting him imagine coming all over my face and chest, I added, “Actually I need the nutrients. I might just swallow your tasty cum instead.”

I felt his cock expand at the new thought.

“God, you’re so hard,” I told him, as I slowly licked my way up his shaft. He was oozing pre-cum. I lapped up several drops and smacked my lips as I held his gaze. “And so delicious.”

Still holding his gaze I slowly covered the tip of his cock with my lips and sucked on it, holding his shaft in both hands, letting him see how long his cock was. I have small hands with narrow palms, it looked as if I could wrap another hand around his shaft, if I had one.

Every now and then I let the head just slip out of my mouth, curling my lips outwards to make it appear as though the crown of his cock was forcing my lips apart. Had I planned it in advance I would have worn red lipstick, that really gets him going, but there had been no time for that.

Then it was time for some ball work. Calvin has small, tight little scrotal sacs that I hoped would be able to produce little Calvins when we finally decided that the time was right. Pumping his shaft lightly in a smooth repetitive motion, I moved down to gently tongue his balls. His head immediately fell backwards and soon the rest of his body followed limply.

His balls are the crown jewels of his body. But they had to be handled just right. I sucked one into my mouth and teased it with my tongue and then rolled it gently in my mouth as though it was a sugared sweet I was trying to dissolve. By the time I got to the other one his breathing was audible in the room and his groans let me know when I get things right.

Usually after ball play I head back to giving head. This time I headed further south, intended to lick my way to his butt hole. He nearly came off the bed when I ran my tongue over his perineum. I did it a couple more times as he begged me to stop.

But I was just getting started.

Now only stroking his cock very lightly, to keep it warm more than anything else, I continued to tongue the sensitive area between his butt and his balls that I had discovered for the first time. And curious to find out what else lay undiscovered, I moistened the middle finger of my left hand and rimmed his butt hole.

The same electric shock that had gone through me earlier seem to go through him. He clenched his butt muscles and pleaded, “Please stop…please don’t…stop.”

A clear request for me to continue if I’d ever heard one. So, I did.

He reached down and placed his hand over mine, urging me to quicken the slow stroke of my hand on his cock. Instead, I slipped my hand from under his and curled his fingers around his now straining shaft, leaving him to look after it while I got up and a bit more personal with his butt hole. Reasoning that something larger than my slim finger made its way out of him on a daily basis, albeit in a different direction, I worked it past his entrance carefully as I continued to kiss and caress his perineum with my tongue and lips.

Before I got my finger in to the first knuckle he came all over the bed sheets.


I should have mentioned that although Calvin and I are both twenty-six, I’m his schoolgirl fantasy in the flesh. Most men don’t look at me twice. I have no boobs or ass to jiggle. I finally gave up trying to gain weight when I met him. I wear size eight clothing, but sometimes even the size eights in Wallis, my favourite store, were too big for me because they can be generous to a fault with their cuts. My friends always say that I’m lucky to be skinny and think I’m joking when I say that I want to gain a little weight. I’ve felt underdeveloped since I was fifteen and all the other girls in my class were wearing bras and swinging their hips when they walked. The padded bras my mother bought me so that I could fit in didn’t fool anyone. Certainly not the boys who all seemed to like the girls with the biggest breasts. I never scored with any of them—not even a kiss.

At nineteen I discovered that Dr Bloom, our family GP, had a Lolita fantasy. He’d asked me if I was sexually active at every appointment, saying that he needed to ensure that I protected myself adequately. And always seemed inordinately pleased when I told him that I wasn’t yet.

Two months after I’d started an Accounts and Finance degree at Newcastle University and moved into a tiny, always-cold flat, I developed a persistent chesty cough. After lectures one evening I went to see him. He asked me to unbutton my top so that he could listen to my lungs. I was embarrassed to do so because by then I had discovered padded push up bras that were making me look like at least a 32B when I was only a 32AA. I unbuttoned the top two buttons, keeping my bra covered. He unbuttoned another two and pushed my shirt right back as he listened to my chest for so long I thought that he was going to tell me I had tuberculosis. Finally he straightened and told me I had mild bronchitis and insisted I go straight home and get into bed. Once he saw his last two patients, he promised, he would get a prescription filled for me and bring the medication to my flat.

I thought nothing of this, knowing that doctors sometimes made house calls.

He arrived less than an hour after I got home, with several cartons of New Covent Garden soup. I hadn’t obeyed his instruction to get into bed, so he immediately marched me to the bedroom and ordered me into bed while he warmed some soup for me.

I undressed quickly and put on a large t-shirt which I thought would be more appropriate than a nightdress or skimpy nightshirt. He brought me a glass of water and two pills to swallow. I took the tablets while he went back to check on the soup he had left warming in a pan on the stove—he obviously hadn’t realized that he could have zapped it in the microwave.

When it was ready he brought it to me in a large bowl and sat on the side of my bed and fed it to me. Looking back I should have realized how oddly he was acting, but I had known him since I was little. He was almost like an uncle to me. He told me that he was going to have a serious talk with the landlady. The flat was inadequately heated.

After I had taken the last spoon of the luscious Chicken Soup, he put the bowl on the table beside my single bed where I keep my night time reading material and said that he needed to massage some Vicks VapoRub into my chest.

That’s when I realized that something was amiss. But to be honest he was nice. He was about fifty and still had all his hair though it was silver. He had a bit of a pot belly, but was not in bad shape considering he had a sedentary job. When I told him that I would have to get changed, he told me to simply pull the wide neck t-shirt down over my shoulders and sit up in the bed with my back towards him.

I pulled the t-shirt down and he opened the new tub of the rub he’d bought for me and scooped some of it onto his finger. Warming it between his palms, he stood behind me and reached around to rub it into my chest. His soft hands felt soothing and I instantly started to breathe more easily. At first he occasionally touched a nipple, but soon he involved them in the area he was massaging, pushing my top down so that both of my breasts were exposed. He massaged my chest for nearly half an hour, his breathing becoming more erratic with each passing minute, before he suddenly stopped and abruptly took his leave.

He came back late the next day, went up to the second floor to give my landlady a good talking to, he said. When he returned he instructed me to get into bed. I had already had one of the soups, so I didn’t require being fed. He listened to my chest once again and told me that it had cleared up considerably overnight. He still insisted on giving me a fifteen-minute chest massage before leaving, though. He never came back, his conscience and the Hippocratic Oath probably winning the battle over his horniness. And by the weekend a large radiator had been installed in my room.

Up until that point I had been embarrassed at the thought of undressing in front of a man. The fact that Dr Bloom had seen my breasts and liked them, gave me the courage to say hello to Calvin the next time I saw him in class. I’d caught him looking at me several times, but he was so good looking I never imagined that he was attracted to me. Months later he told me that he had worried that I was one of those high-achieving students who started university at the age of twelve.

We had sex less than a week later, more on my insistence than his. The doctor’s chest massages had left me restless, but at the time I knew nothing about masturbating. I’d shared a room with my younger sister until I’d left home because both my older sister and my two younger brothers insisted on having rooms of their own. My parents had bought the five bedroom house when they were newly married and renovated it to their taste at great cost. They saw no reason to move to a bigger house just because they had one child more than they had rooms to spare. So, even if I had wanted to experiment, I never had the privacy to do so. I could have lived at home when I started university and drove my Mini to lectures every day, but I was still a virgin and desperately wanted to have some fun.

My first time with Calvin was nearly disastrous. I seriously began to worry again that I was underdeveloped when getting his cock inside me seemed an impossible task. I won’t go into the details—perhaps at another time—but it took several minutes and some tears.

Even now he has a little fight with my pussy each time we have sex. It was almost as if it was trying to keep him out. That’s why though he loved blowjobs, he preferred to finish inside me. He says it feels almost like he’s taking a virgin each time. It was probably more the fact that I’m a greedy, vertically-challenged woman who took on more man than she could safely handle.

The summer we finished university we went on our first holiday together, deciding that we both needed a break before we started job hunting and studying for our professional accounting qualification. We got a bargain for a ten-night stay in Tobago, but had to fly out two days after our last exam. With the pressure of final exams, moving our belongings to the new flat we’d rented together and the insane rush to get packed for the trip, we hadn’t had sex for over a week.

But when we arrived in Tobago late that afternoon, we were so exhausted we decided to shower and go to bed to sleep. Until Calvin noticed my Brazilian wax while I was drying my skin. Actually it was my first wax or shave down there as I never really had a lot of pubic hair. Even the esthetician was surprised when I told her I hadn’t waxed or shaved before, because my hair had grown in a neat triangle.

Calvin went into overdrive when he realized my pussy was completely bare.

Complete sexual overdrive!

Late that night I lay next to him still awake thinking about the way he had reacted to my hairlessness—as though we were having sex for the first time. I’d even worried that he would fuck us both to death! Just before he fell asleep finally too exhausted to come one more time, he had admitted it was like making love to a young girl. I’d been exhausted myself and about to fall asleep, but his words had taken the pleasure out of the sex and left me wide awake and worried.

Then I remembered watching a documentary years before where supposed normal men had sensors or electrodes attached to their genitals as they viewed images of other men, women, babies or children, I can’t remember which now. Most of the men had a sexual response to the children or babies without even being aware of it. They had been horrified to be shown the results, but the psychologist had calmed their fears, assuring them that the response in no way indicated they were paedophiles.

There were men who could not sleep with a woman who had pubic or armpit hair. These were both clear signs that a woman had left puberty. Did anyone accuse these men of paedophilia? No, they did not.

Yes, Calvin seemed to have a Lolita fantasy, but at least he was acting it out only with me. I fulfilled his need. He was simply a decent man who was attracted to youthfulness, but I knew that he would not act inappropriately with a minor.

He had never insisted I shave myself, I thought as my eyes finally closed. If all he wanted was a shaved pussy and me not to have a boob job, then I would oblige him.

I’d never regretted that decision.

And now I’d discovered another facet to his sexuality I intended to explore it and see where it took us.


The next day I went to Soho during my lunch break to have a look at the selection of anal toys on offer and found a slimline anal vibrator and a dinky butt plug that would do nicely. I bought them and hurried back to the office. The hand of the clock seem to go backwards not forwards every time I looked at them that afternoon, but finally it was the end of my working day.

I stashed the toys in the top drawer of my bedside table when I got home and smiled sweetly and innocently at Calvin when he arrived ten minutes later. We cooked King Prawn Arrabiata and ate it while discussing our jobs and the recession. We were lucky to still both have jobs, but we couldn’t take that for granted. We had already cut entertainment from our budget, trying to save money to see us through a rough patch, if necessary.

Calvin was surprised when I suggested going up to bed after we’d cleared the table. Usually I need to see at least two episodes of Law and Order, and let my food digest before I prepared for bed.

After our shower, he lay on the bed stroking himself as he watched me quickly apply moisturizer to my face. It was a passion killer, but I had to do it or my face would be tight and itchy the next day.

My tummy was still too full as we started off leisurely, exchanging deep kisses before Calvin moved down to my breasts and toyed with my nipples. I felt lethargic and already regretted the impulse to come to bed early.

I ran the fingers of one hand idly through his hair and stroked his broad back with the other as he sucked on my button nipples. Perhaps sensing that he didn’t have my full attention, he cupped my breasts and used his teeth a bit more aggressively on my nipples, reminding me of when I’d first met him. I’d been convinced that he wanted more the way he’d attacked my breasts, opening his mouth and almost covering them whole. Eventually, I realized that they were the perfect size for him—it was just that he liked them a lot.

I moaned and had to turn my head into the pillow as he continued to tug on them. My nipples are as small as my breasts, so sensation was concentrated in a smaller area and so intense I sometimes felt that I would go crazy.

His erect cock pressed into my lower leg, too far away for me to reach. I rubbed my leg against it and felt it throb in response. I also couldn’t reach his butt, which I had planned to torment a little before my onslaught later.

Giving my left nipple one last hard suck, he moved down to my stomach and ran his tongue over the sides of my waist which are very ticklish. He chuckled as I reacted predictably, trying to wriggle away from him as he held me in place.

When he hooked my legs over his shoulders I knew I had done the right thing. He meant to make me come, which also meant that he was hoping for a repeat of the previous night. When we’d first started dating he’d made me come a couple of times by going down on me. Then later he’d been disappointed that I hadn’t been able to come again when we’d had sex. Older and more experienced, I come more than once a night now, but he didn’t risk it.

So, if he intended to make me come now it was a clear indication that he was anticipating a solo orgasm later.

That was not what I had planned for him.

I relaxed and let his stiff tongue push past my entrance. God, he really did mean business tonight I realized as his thumb firmly circled my clit.

Embarrassingly quickly I was rotating my hips, pressing my clit harder against his thumb and taking his tongue deeper inside me as I came.

We didn’t have wine with dinner midweek, one of the cuts we had made in our budget, so he moved up the bed and kissed me, letting me taste myself on his lips.

The slightly salty, mysteriously dark taste always excited me. It was as if it were another woman’s juices and not my own I was tasting. I always thought of the woman as being Egyptian. Yet it was my own essence, and whatever else I felt my body lacked physically, the taste of my own juices made me feel a fully-formed, sexually mature woman.

I pushed gently against Calvin’s shoulder and as he obediently rolled off me, I reached into the drawer and grabbed his presents. I slipped them under the bed as he looked at me, wondering what the delay was.

“Just getting some lubricant,” I explained holding up the tube so he could see. “Now prepare yourself for a repeat of last night. But this time I want your cock inside my mouth when you come. I want to feel your cock jerk as it sprays gallons and gallons of your tasty spunk down my gullet.”

His eyes danced and I continued to dirty talk as I got into position. This time he was fully on the bed with me kneeling between his thighs.

I repeated my lollipop trick.

He was a little calmer when I approached his perineum after giving his balls some attention, but not for long. Soon he had one leg lifted high in the air, giving me space to manoeuvre and full access to his butt hole.

In less than no time my lubricated finger was snaking in and out of him nicely. He stiffened when I slipped a second finger inside him, but soon he relaxed again and I continued to finger fuck him.

Reaching for the vibrator, I realized that I had left it out of hand reach.

Blast! Double blast!

I moved up and tongued the head of his cock as I grabbled with the box. I winked at him as I moved back downwards, vibrator in hand but out of sight.

“I didn’t want your cock to feel neglected,” I explained and gave him another wink.

He sunk his head back into the pillows and continued to stroke his cock.

Easing my fingers out, I slid the head of the vibrator inside him.

Startled, he almost knocked my head off as he brought his leg down in surprise.

“It’s okay, honey,” I whispered, moving his leg out of the way and sliding the full length of the cock-shaped, five and a half inch beginner’s anal vibrator inside him.

His eyes went wide as I held his gaze and turned it to the lowest setting.

Letting go of his cock to grasp the pillow on either side of his head, his mouth opened in a silent scream as I slowly eased it out of him and eased it back in. His cock jerked ominously and I knew that the second phase of my plans had gone awry. But I was having so much fun, it didn’t matter. Reaching over, I grabbed his cock and directed the flow of cum onto my face and chest as his butt forcibly ejected the vibrator, even though I tried to keep it inside him.

I waited until he opened his eyes moments later to lick off the drops of cum that my tongue could reach.

“You look a complete mess! Let me clean you off.” He laughed and reached for the bath towel he had draped over one of the fat wooden knobs of the headboard which looked like oversized cocks. We had smiled at each other and moved straight over to try the bed as soon as we had spotted it in the showroom. The price was more than we had planned to spend, but we had talked the manager into giving us a discount and had tried the bed out as soon as it had been delivered and set up. We still loved it.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, looking at the vibrator that now lay innocently at the foot of the bed.

“In Soho. And I’ve got another little surprise for you.”

“What?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, but his cock instantly hardening.

“I think I’ll keep it for tomorrow,” I told him, just to tease him.

“Where is it?” He leaned over and opened the drawer, looking hopeful.

By now his cock was hard again.

He was so ready for the butt plug!

I reached under the bed and grabbed the smaller of the two boxes.

He gasped at the illustration on the cover.

“It’s not that big,” I said, taking it out quickly so that he could see it for himself.

“It’s huge!” he accused.

But his cock jerked and surged to another level of stiffness.

“Honey, it’s just a little fatter than the vibrator,” I said.

“That was big enough!” he complained, but I knew it was only a token complaint—he had taken it better than I’d thought he would.

“Let me plug your sweet ass, honey,” I cajoled, moving closer and biting on his earlobe. “Let me plug you nicely and then you can fuck me as the plug fucks you.”

While I was sweet-talking him I was pushing him down onto the bed, sensing that he needed me to take control of the situation. When I turned him onto his side, he went willingly.

I lubricated the plug thoroughly and teased his butt hole with it for a few minutes. It said small on the box, but it was fatter than I’d expected.

Biting his butt cheek to distract him, I slid the plug home.

“Aw! Aw!” He hissed and squirmed as it stretched him.

“Imagine it’s me behind you,” I pleaded, grabbing his arm as he made as if to unplug himself.

“It’s too big,” he complained like a sulky child.

“Come on, honey, fuck me now.” I quickly lay back on the bed and opened my legs. “Fuck me as you’re being fucked.”

Soon I was the one squirming, trying to accommodate his cock that felt twice as big and hard as normal. Usually he took care of his Lolita, trying not to hurt his semi-virgin, spending minutes working his cock into me. Tonight with just a few rotations of his hips he was deep inside of me, filling me to overflowing.

Then he slipped his arm under my right leg and brought it up towards my chest.

“No, no,” I begged as another half inch of cock penetrated me.

“Yes,” he said, and slipped his arm under my left leg.


That was seven months ago. My Lolita days are over, but Calvin seems to love me more than ever. I’m four months pregnant and finally a B cup. I now regularly strap on a sizeable dildo and pleasure him. It still gives me a real high. Sometimes on the weekend I plug him with a cute butt plug and have him walk around the house naked. The sight of it drives me so crazy that within minutes I have to have him beneath me.

The End

Thank you!

Thank you for making this purchase. I hope you enjoyed reading Turning My Man Out! as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Kind regards,

Meghan Alexis Moore

SpreadEagle Publications

Also by Meghan Alexis Moore


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Lauren Matthews is working two jobs and sleeping on her friend Stacey’s living room sofa to pay off her debts.

When Stacey begs her to cover her shift for one night as a waitress at a gentlemen’s club, Lauren can’t refuse. Not when Stacey practically saved her from sleeping rough on the streets.

So, Lauren squeezes her curvy body into a bunny outfit but knows it’s a BAD IDEA!

Seems she’s right.

Before she even serves her first drink, she’s hurried away to the private office of Drake Patterson, the club’s enigmatic billionaire owner.

Is she in a ton of trouble, or about to be offered a proposal too good to turn down?

WARNING: This steamy, two-part billionaire romance is for busy women who devour stories in bite-sized morsels.


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DOUBLE WHAMMY is the story of an innocent woman going from deep despair to heady delight with twice more pleasure than she could have ever anticipated. It’s full of heat, so be warned that your eReader may burst into flames!


Shy landscape artist Annabelle Lancaster buys a quiet villa in Cornwall, away from the noise and crowds in London. Her neighbour Christopher Wells writes bestsellers under pen name Chris Cross and seems equally shy.

Annabelle senses his attraction but is too timid to make an advance, so when the unthinkable happens – he dies in a freak accident – she’s inconsolable.

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How could life be so cruel to two people who lived decent lives and always tried to help the less fortunate?

But, just when her despair leads to suicidal thoughts, the unexpected happens.



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I don’t come cheaply, but I can guarantee that after a night in my bed, a woman will leave feeling more beautiful than she’s ever felt in her life!

ANNA: I’m almost 30, almost 200 pounds and almost a virgin. There’s no stopping the first issue, the second will take a lot of hard work, but I can fix the third. I won’t let another birthday go by without making love with a man…even if I have to pay for the pleasure.


When her late father's will stipulates that fuller-figured doctor Samantha McMillan must marry and have a child within three years, or lose her inheritance, her friend Zachary de Luca offers to marry her. She's unlike the cool, slender blondes always photographed on the playboy billionaire's arm, so why would he be willing to sacrifice three years of his life for her? There's no way he could feel the same attraction she feels for him, is there?


Virginal introvert Shakira Phillips loves her father and has always done whatever he’s asked of her, but surely asking her to sleep with his employer to avoid a jail sentence is too much? Especially an employer ruthless enough to prosecute a man of her father’s advanced years who has faithfully served the company for over twenty-five years.

Billionaire hotelier Jared Codrington is a jaded man. Everything he touches turns to gold. The more money he has, the more he makes. Beautiful women throw themselves at him wherever he goes and tired of meaningless relationships, he decides on a period of celibacy to clear his palette and re-awaken his appetite. When he catches his top employee swindling funds and the man offers his daughter as payment, Jared agrees, not planning to accept the virgin sacrifice, but wanting to demonstrate how deadly serious he is about the level of loyalty he expects from his employees.

He doesn’t cater for the instant attraction he feels for the fuller-figured beauty who turns up at his office. In an instant she clears his palette, awakens his appetite and builds a hunger that he must sate.


After spending the summer holidays working closely with her father’s boss, Nicholas Hudson, Victoria Fairbanks is ordered by him to go to university, date men her age and have fun.

Now, three years later, he has decided that she’s mature and experienced enough. But after three years of heartache and frustration, Victoria isn’t about to quietly submit to his demands.

Even if she has to tell him a ton of lies, she will make him feel as angry and jealous as he’s made her feel since he sent her away.



Victoria’s dad loves his midday drink but doesn’t have a head for hard liquor. Now he’s in trouble with his boss and needs her to convince the man to let him keep his job. When she was younger, a sweet smile and a little pleading had done the trick. But now that her dad’s boss is retired, it will require more than smiles and begging to convince his sexy, young son.


Christina has simple desires in life: to be a pampered wife and to be taken anally on a regular basis. She marries Royce, a rich older man, thinking that any man who marries a woman a third of his age must be open to all possibilities. To her dismay he believes anal is something for gay men. How fortunate for her then that he has relatives who are all strong believers and regular practitioners in the art of rear entry.


Kelly Ashdown has loved Simon, her brother’s best friend for years. And now that she’s almost nineteen and about to start university and a life of hedonism, she’s determined that he will be her first. But Simon is ridiculously noble and too much of a good friend to her brother to seduce his little sister. Kelly means to show him that nobility is no match for a young woman with a bothersome problem.


Lily has lived in her slutty big sister’s shadow all her life. A former model, Suzanne, can get any man she wants, but that didn’t stop her from stealing the one Lily wanted. Now, Suzanne has a new boyfriend: sexy, rich, handsome Alexander Llewellyn whom she’s lied to, pretending that she’s untouched. Alexander is disappointed when he realizes that Suzanne has lied, but he forgives her. Suzanne, however, can’t stay faithful to any man, no matter how handsome or rich for more than a week. When Alexander visits unexpectedly and Suzanne out with another man, Lily decides that Alexander deserves better than her lying, cheating sister. Plus she’s got what he wanted so badly.


Nineteen-year-old Paul Delaney steals his father’s membership card and enters the decadent world of the exclusive men’s club his father has belonged to for years. When he meets beautiful fuller-figured Marianne Styles whose millionaire husband Timothy seems more interested in the young women brought in for entertainment than his wife, Paul suggests that Marianne gives her husband a dose of his own medicine, with his help. What Paul doesn’t realize is that the club has special rules.


All her life female pseudo hermaphrodite Toni Montgomery has felt that something was missing. Beautiful, bright and successful, she has lived a life bringing pleasure to people around her, but will she ever find someone for herself?


When Vanity discovers that her man might be susceptible to a little anal play, she sets about conquering him.


As Mistress Ophelia, Chloe Daniels indulges her voyeuristic fantasies to the full. Having loved and lost the love of her life, she’s content to live vicariously through others. Until, that is, she gets a glimpse of the aristocratic Mr Perfect and his not-so-aristocratic endowment.


Venezuelan Lisel Herrera would do anything to get her mother out of the hellhole of a jail where she’s serving time for protecting her daughter from the lecherous advances of a corrupt policeman. When an opportunity to earn money pretending to be a much younger girl comes her way, she jumps at the chance knowing exactly the kind of man her handsome, wealthy employer Gareth Anderson is. But she’s drawn to him against her will.


Laura Bowman has had a Santa Claus fantasy for years and fully expects it to remain a fantasy, until she innocently sits on Santa’s lap to convince her niece that Santa is harmless. She discovers that Santa is anything but! When he promises her a spanking for Christmas, all she has to do is turn up for the rendezvous. Will she dare?

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