Win a Fantasy

My latest Erotica "Unbound Fantasies" is now available. Here's your chance to win it.


“Are you alone?”
“Not that it matters, since you’re going to behave, but yes,” Miranda answered Matt’s nightly inquiry.
“Mmm, that’s perfect for my purposes. I think that you need a gallon of milk.”
Miranda rolled her eyes at the familiar litany. “Nope, I’m stocked up on groceries, and you’re not behaving,” she reminded him. Each night, Matt would call her after her kids were in bed, she would admit that she was alone, and he would attempt to convince her to meet him for a quick tryst, but she had not given in…yet. She lived in fear that he would catch her kid-free one night, and that she would give into temptation.
“Fine,” he said, sounding like a petulant child before switching back to his normal sexy tone. “How was your day? Did you get a break at all?”
She had made the mistake once of confiding all her problems in Matt. Her marriage was not going great—actually they had legally separated a month earlier, but she was not about to tell Matt that juicy tidbit. He had seemed genuinely concerned that between her job, kids, and failing marriage that she was unable to rest.
“It was okay and I’m relaxing now. I’m all kicked back in my recliner,” she answered, giving the arm of her chair a little pat even though he could not see the gesture.
“Really,” he said, dragging out the word. “What are you wearing?”
“Ugh! You’re such a pain,” she said, feigning aggravation. She refused to admit how much their nightly chats meant to her sanity. No one played with her anymore. His voice had a low growl to it, as if he was always barely hanging onto his temper. The sound of it through the phone against her ear caused goose bumps to break out across her body. “Do you know what you need?” he asked.
“What?” she asked, even though she felt sure that she would regret it.
“My tongue buried in your pussy,” he answered, making her breath catch. “When was the last time someone spent hours doing nothing but slowly moving his tongue inside of you?”
The muscles in her stomach clenched, but instead of answering, she asked, “Why do you call here every night?”
“You’re hot,” he answered, without skipping a beat.
She smiled to herself. He was such a puzzle to her and she could not stop digging for more. He was a sexy and successful businessman who probably had women beating down his door. It did not make sense that he would continue his pursuit of her. “There are lots of hot women in the world.”
“They’re not you,” he said, dismissing her statement. “How wet are you right now?” 

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