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About the author:
Hi, my name is Cammie Cummins, my friends call me C.C. Late at night when everyone’s gone off to bed and the house gets quiet, I brew a cup of hot tea and indulge in my favorite past time; writing erotica. As I sit and tap out my stories, my greatest hope is that what I write turns you on as much as it does me.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“But, Meredith. This was my idea.”
“I’m sure it was, sweetie.” I looked Brad over, finishing by gazing at his package. “And I can see why. He’s handsome and he’s got a good size—”
“You saw it?” he asked horrified.
“Hard to miss,” I said with a mischievous smile. “But the real question, young man, is why are you still hard?”
“Meredith!” Phoebe shouted, shocked. Her cheeks were almost as red as Brad’s. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this.”
“I’m not trying to embarrass you, dear. I’m just saying.” I had trouble taking my eyes off Brad’s crotch. He noticed and started rubbing it. Oh, you nasty boy, I thought with an inward smile even as I pretended outrage. “What do you think you’re you doing, young man?”
“Nothing,” He said, fake innocence dripping from the word.
Was he trying to seduce me? I had to give him points for trying. Most young men his age would have turned tail and run. But Brad, he had balls. Blue balls at the moment, but balls all the same. Phoebe noticed too and her mouth dropped open.
“Oh my God.”
We both also noticed he hadn’t properly fastened his jeans from when I first burst in on them and now his cock popped up between his hands. It was a thing of beauty, I have to say. And maybe I thought so even more so as, I’ll admit, since Phoebe’s dad and I were in a bit of a dry spell at the moment. Brad tried to stuff his uncooperative package back into his pants, but the horse was out of the barn as they say and my bad judge leaped into high gear as I reached out and cupped a hand over his, stopping him.
“Don’t.” I brushed his hands away and fisted his stiff cock. Warm and hard. Brad tried to backpedal across the bed, but by then I had a hand on his situation, still moist from Phoebe’s blowjob.
“Meredith!” Phoebe shouted. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” I said, lying. “I thought maybe I could give you a few pointers.”
“By giving him a hand job?”
“For starters. Why not? But if you rather, why stop there?”
I leaned down and shoved Brad’s long cock into my mouth. I got about three quarters of the way down his shaft before his pointy little head hit the back of my throat. I pulled him out of my mouth and stroked his slick shaft, running the tip of my tongue along its length.
Wide-eyed behind her glasses, Phoebe stared at me as she finger-combed her long hair behind her ear, so she could watch. I’d never had anyone watch me before. The thought of that was such a turn on.
I stroked and sucked and ran my tongue around Brad’s shaft. I pulled his cock out of my mouth with a popping sound and smiled up at the young man. “You like the way that feels?”