Tattoo Virgin (4 page)

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Authors: Cosette Callaway

BOOK: Tattoo Virgin
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The Harsh Light of Day
(Perfect Blend Volume III)

Angela and Clint are trying to make it work, trying to date just like any other normal couple.

However, it isn't easy dating a porn star. Not only does she have to keep it a secret, she starts getting attention from random strangers she meets when they recognize Clint.

And there's the whole thing where he has sex with other women.

Angela starts to wonder if she may not be able to keep pretending like everything's alright.

6,017 Words

Excerpt:

He pulled up next to the entrance to my school, his car purring deeply, then turned to me, arm slung over the back of my seat.

“Sure you don’t want to play hooky?” he asked, smiling mischievously as he leaned towards me.

I touched my forehead to his. “God, you must have gotten so many girls in trouble when you were in high school.”

His smile widened. “No comment.” He palmed my neck, using his thumb to angle my jaw up so his lips could meet mine.

We’d had sex no less than five separate times in the last twenty-four hours, and yet, as we kissed, I was ready to go again. My pussy clenched, desperate to feel his dick inside me, and my nipples hardened to rigid points, while his tongue lightly sparred with mine. Keeping his one hand on my jaw, holding it in place, his other moved to cup my ribs, thumb running along the underside of my breast, and my hands moved of their own volition up his chest and around his neck.

BAM! I jumped, breaking apart from Clint, and heard loud, raucous laughter. Several of my students were standing by the car watching Clint and me, and one of them had obviously slammed a palm against my window to get my attention.

“Yeah, Miss Featherstone!” one of my students yelled, while another shouted out. “Get yours!”

“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath, while Clint started laughing. I swatted his stomach lightly. How had I forgotten myself so completely?

 

 

The Daily Grind
(Perfect Blend Volume IV)

Angela has broken things off with Clint and started dating her co-worker, Richard, in an attempt to get her life back to normal. A couple of weeks have passed, and yet nothing is getting easier. She decides that upping the stakes with Richard might solve some of her problems, but will that only create more?

6.770 Words

Excerpt:

Richard’s hand holding mine was clammy as we walked up to his apartment. He turned to me as he unlocked the door, cupping my jaw and leaning down to kiss me. I responded eagerly, happy that we wouldn’t have to do the awkward “so, this is my apartment, would you like something to drink” small talk. He wrapped his thick arms around me and pulled me up against him, backing us into his apartment.

As he reached down to pick me up our lips disconnected and his forehead bumped against my nose. He grunted, his fingers digging into my ass as he boosted me up, and I tried to facilitate the process, bracing my arms around his broad shoulders and lifting my legs to wrap around his waist.

It was awkward, it was so goddamn awkward, and I started giggling to relieve the tension, more amused than turned on. Richard was apparently not pleased by this, as he frowned up at me. I kissed him again, hoping to get things back on track, and he closed his eyes and started walking us back towards his bedroom. He set me down on my feet, his fingers tugging roughly at my shirt. I felt the material strain and I hurried to help him before it ripped, my hands taking over and pulling it over my head. I also kicked off my shoes and jeans while Richard similarly undressed himself.

I had to admit, his body was breathtaking, a work of art and muscle. Even though he had been working as a teacher for the past several years, he obviously kept up at the gym. I took a second to drink him in: his round, capped shoulders, his thick, defined abs, and that little V pointing like an arrow down to his groin, muscles I always referred to as a man’s “ken dolls.” I was pretty sure my mouth was salivating. Richard looked more like a stereotypical porn star than Clint did, I thought, before mentally slapping myself. I needed to focus!

 

 

Squirting in the Nightclub
(Purple Priest Volume I)

Violet Priest is an up and coming DJ in the Tampa Bay area. Greg Angle is the owner of the hottest club in town, one Violet hopes to start working for. Greg is young, rich and almost unbearably cocky but he can't help but be attracted to the sexy, auburn haired DJ, and during the night of her trail run at his club sparks,
and juices, fly.
2,041 words.
Excerpt:
He held up a vodka cranberry, which I gratefully accepted, slipping one side of my headphones off. I gulped the drink down quickly, parched. He set his own drink down and moved behind me, his shirt rubbing against my bare shoulder blades.
Putting his mouth next to my ear, he murmured, “Look at them dancing below you. They really are like your puppets.”
I shivered and, almost involuntarily, pressed ass back against him. He placed one of his hands on my hip, gripping it firmly and grinding his hips into me in time with the music. His smell enveloped me and I let out a small, inaudible sigh, rubbing into him. I could feel the outline of his cock pressed up against my ass and from what I could tell, all the rumors were true.
He nipped my earlobe, chuckling darkly against it. “You’ve been making me crazy all night, Violet. Who knew a DJ could be so sexy.” As he spoke he trailed the fingers of his free hand up and down the skin of my left arm, raising goose bumps along the way. He paused for a few seconds, then continued speaking. “I could tell from where I was sitting how turned on you were. You look like a bitch in heat.” His harsh words made my pussy throb and I shivered against him. From the way the sound booth was set up, no one in the crowd could see as his hand slid down from around my hip and up the front of my skirt. When his fingers brushed against the hot, sodden material of my thong, his sharp intake of breath matched my own.

 

 

The Pussy Wants What it Wants
(Purple Priest Volume II)

After her torrential trial run at Club Sugarcane, Violet begins second guessing her actions, not wanting to jeopardize her new career. However, now that Greg has had a taste, he isn't willing to let
her go so easily.
5,998 Words
Excerpt:
"Rough day at the office?” I said behind him and I was gratified to see his shoulders jump. He twisted his torso around to look up at me and his eyes widened when he took in my scantily covered body.
“It just got much better,” he said, his eyes pulling up and down my body. “I hope you’re used to getting fucked on the second date because I don’t think I’ll be able to wait much longer with you prancing around in that towel,” he continued in a low voice, and I shivered at the promise.
“Just wondering if you wanted to join me,” I said, then turned around and slowly sauntered back into my room and then bathroom.
By the time I dropped my towel next to the shower he was naked and had caught up, his hands snaking around my body from behind and pulling me to him roughly. His already hard dick ground into my ass, giving me a preview of what was to come, and I raised one of my arms, wrapping it around his head. His mouth latched onto the top of my shoulder while he pulled both my nipples out, tweaking them between his thumb and forefingers. Oh God, that felt so good, and I moaned as my pussy clenched in anticipation. I caught myself before I got fully lost in the sensation and twisted out of his grasp, catching one of his hands and pulling him into the shower.

 

 

Rode Hard and Put Away Wet

Something’s gotta give…

Delilah is a small town girl living in the big city of L.A. Her job sucks, her apartment is a dive and the people she meets are hostile and think she’s dumb just because of her accent. All Delilah wants is a taste of home; to be reminded where she came from. After a particularly bad day Delilah finally decides that she’s had enough, and she goes to a bar to get good and drunk.  What she finds there is exactly what she needed, a good country boy who can give her that taste of home she was so badly craving.

-7,280  Words

Excerpt:

Eli grabbed her bottom lip between his and ran his tongue along it, sending shivers down her spine. She felt flushed, drunk in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol. She managed to pull away from him. “Bedroom?” she panted.

Eli made a growling sound and suddenly dropped his body, then pushed his shoulder into her belly, lifting her up. She squealed, her feet kicking, loving the playfulness of it, and she ran her nails down the bare skin of his back and then swatted him on the ass as he walked. He quickly reciprocated the smack on her, his large hand cracking down on her jean covered derrière, and she felt his chest humming with laughter. Once they were in his bedroom, he roguishly threw her on his California king sized bed. She bounced and rolled onto her back, staring up at him with stars in her eyes as he crawled over her.

“Is that any way to treat a lady?” she asked, crossing her arms, glaring up at his face playfully.

He was hovering over her, his breath warm on her face, smiling like a possum. “Oh, well, my deepest apologies, Miss. I do declare you are right. That is most definitely
not
the way to treat a lady. Now
this
,” he said, lowering his mouth to her ear, then whispered in his gruff voice “is how I treat a lady.” He nipped her earlobe lightly, then kissed his way down her neck, trailing a line down her cleavage. He pushed up the peach material of her halter top then flicked his tongue into her belly button, raising gooseflesh on her skin. His hands moved to her jeans, his fingers deftly unbuttoning them.

“Now just what do you think you’re doin’ there, Mister?” she asked, giggling.

“Well, Miss,” he said, looking up at her from his spot next to her hipbone, then said in a dangerously low voice, “I’m fixin’ to go down on you. Any problem with that?” With that he tugged her jeans off her hips and down her legs. He could see, by the light of the moon shining through his window, that her panties were soaked through. He rubbed the wet material with two fingers and she writhed on the bed. “No, sir, no problem at all,” she moaned.

 

 

 

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