Something Borrowed by Cammie Cummins
Nineteen year old Stacey just wanted to earn some extra cash before she went off to college.
Cougar mom Mrs. S just wanted to go on a date, and maybe get lucky. So when Stacey’s curiosity gets the better of her and she finds something she shouldn’t have, it surprises—and pleases—her no end. But when Mrs. S catches the young girl using something borrowed, they both get way more than they bargained for.
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AmazonAbout 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.
Happy reading.
Cammie
XOXO
Here is a short sample from the book:
There was that curiosity of mine again.
I pushed the colorful undergarments aside and seeing what was inside, my mouth dropped open. I covered my mouth and reached down with my other hand. It was a thick, pink, penis-shaped rubber dildo!
“Oh. My. God.”
I picked it up and held it up in front of me, like I was examining a piece of fine jewelry. I giggled. “I can’t believe it.”
But why not? I had a little button vibrator to help me get through cold, lonely nights. Why shouldn’t, Mrs. S have something to keep her…relieved?
I bet this puppy got a lot more use now that she was divorced. I brought it up to my face and like it was a cigar, I ran it under my nose, smelling it.
Oh. My. God! It smelled like pussy.
Well, of course it did, stupid.
What I did next, I almost don’t even remember. I mean, I remember doing it—God, do I remember doing it—and what followed, but I don’t remember consciously thinking about doing it. Giving it any thought. I just did it.
With that thick, rubber dildo in my hand I sat down on the bed. The mattress was one of those kind that form to your body. I felt myself sink into the softness.
I stared down at the dildo in my hand.
I should put it back.
Mrs. S could be back any time.
Instead, I climbed up on the bed and dropped the dildo onto the bedspread beside me. I peeled my skin-tight, yellow spandex shorts off my legs, leaving me wearing only my orange tank top T-shirt and my lacy black thong panties.
On my hands and knees on the bed, I massaged and caressed my warm, soft ass, one of my best features, I’d been told. Perhaps, but I’ve always been partial to my boobs.
Speaking of them, I rolled over and flopped down on the mounds of frilly pillows behind me, digging my elbows into them while I cupped my breasts, squeezed them through the cotton of my orange T-shirt. I felt the contour of the malleable mattress under me form around my body as I sank in.
I loved how my titties felt.
Laying there, kneading them, I wondered what grabbing Mrs. S’s monster boobs would feel like? What did her nipples look like? What would it be like to lick them?
Thinking about her big-ass boobs, I squirmed and slid my hand under my panties. Already I was damp down there. I ran my hand over my mound of tightly curled, brown pubic hair. I ran my hand over my petal-soft, pink, pussy lips.
Was I really doing this?
I was really doing this.
I cupped my sex and rubbed my fingers between my dampening lips. I looked over at that pink dildo lying there, with its thick, pink head. I imagined how wonderful it would feel pushing that thick piece of warm rubber cock deep inside me.
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