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About the author:
Once upon a time, I traveled with a carnival and sold ride tickets. I also drove dump trucks, for a frozen food company and a construction company. There isn’t a state in the Continental 48 that I haven’t visited, drove through or lived in. I’ve even been to Canada and want to go to Mexico, one day. Eventually, I’d like to renovate a retired casino boat, and turn it into a houseboat, and live in it. But currently, I reside in Louisiana with my kids and a grandkid. When I’m not chasing after my grandbaby, I write erotic tales that would make my kids blush. 😉 I love to read just about anything fiction, and, like my taste in books, my musical preferences are wide and varied – Elvis, Madonna, Miley, Eminem, Dwight Yocum, just to name a few. I got my first taste of being published as a child, when a local newspaper published my poem, and writing has been in my blood ever since.
What inspired you to write your book?
What inspired me? I love writing, I love erotic stories, and I love younger men.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Bobby’s house was the place to be on weekends, school breaks—even Summer, if you could swing it. No frat party in the world could compare to the parties thrown by Pam Thompson.
Pam is Bobby’s mom, and the term ‘MILF’ was invented just for her. Okay, maybe not just for her, but she was the type of woman they pictured when they coined it. She is five and a half feet of pure sex, from the top of her silky blond head to the tips of her stiletto clad feet. She has big, long lashed blue eyes that always seem to be lost in sensual daydreams and full, luscious lips that can make your dick hard with nothing more than a pucker. The way she applied gloss to those lips could bring a grown man to his knees. Once around with the foam tipped applicator, and one more slow, sensual trip with her long, pink tongue—as if the stuff tasted so good she just couldn’t resist a taste.
She has a rocking body, too. Not fat, but not skinny either. I think they’re calling it thick, now. Back in Marilyn Monroe’s day, according to my father, it was referred to as voluptuous—thirty-six double D, twenty-eight, thirty-six, with a nice, heart shaped ass that just won’t quit and muscular legs that seem to go on for way too long for her height. She has a preference for tight, low cut corsets that really boost the bust, and cheek skimming mini skirts that leave little to the imagination. Pair all that with those six inch stilettos, and you have six feet of heat—a hot mom I’d love to fuck.
We keep all of this under lock and key, though. Mum’s the word. If Bobby knew how much we lusted after his mom, we’d never be allowed back. As far as he is concerned, we only come for the parties, the booze, the selection of video game consoles and the ninety inch flat screen TV in the den.
Did I mention that Bobby’s mom is rich? No? Well she is—and not just a little rich, either. Her last husband was a billionaire oil tycoon who had one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel when they met. Rumor has it he fell so hard for her, the first time he saw her, he proposed and promised to leave his entire fortune to her, if she’d only agree to make his final months more pleasurable. I’m guessing she did an amazing job of it. And after six months of marriage, she’s a new widow and the sole owner of the biggest mansion in Miami…and in Long Beach…oh, and also in Nassau, in the Bahamas, where she goes, every winter, for Christmas and New Years. This year, I’ve been invited to tag along with my best pal, Bobby. This year might be the year I get lucky.