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About the author:
A.S. Peavey is branching out from micro caption-based Erotica (which you can check out on Tumblr), to explore the world of longer form stories and novels, and is excited by the opportunities offered to expand on stories, and grasp what tugs at the libido. Peavey lives and plays along the Rocky Mountains.
What inspired you to write your book?
The character of the Wolf is loosely inspired by Arsene Lupin an early 19th French character who was created as a criminal answer to Sherlock Holmes. For some reason, it just made sense (to me) to have a thief combining their intellect with their sexual prowess to commit burglaries.
Here is a short sample from the book:
The rudest thing that ever happened to me? Must you ask?
I have done a great many rude things, to a great many men and women. But the rudest that I can think of that was done to me?
Well, let me start that in the middle:
“Oh, fuck, James!” I can be loud in the middle of sex. “Yes. Come on.”
Okay, okay, I’ll take a step back. Why was I fucking James? Where was I? I was in Arvedo. Yes, that Arvedo. The planned community where the rich live the safest lives imaginable, free of all the crime their money can grant them escape from. Where few people can gain entrance, where the help has to pass thorough background checks and still, almost always, live outside the city. As rich as I may seem, my money is a pittance compared to the locals, so I needed an invitation from one of the citizens.
I went to Arvedo to see what a little sex could earn me from such rich men and women.
But I was not then sleeping with any of the rich of Arvedo that night. James was a member of the Watch—those who guard the rich. I sought a little comfort with him because, despite everything that money can buy, crime still happens. And at that moment a thief—and who knew what other crime that thief might unleash—was running through Arvedo, taking the pick of the citizens’ jewels, art, and finery.
So now, back to the middle. Back to my loud moans.
See, when the sex is good, it deserves a little volume. And this was good. It wasn’t simply the vim and vigor with which James was currently pounding into me. Nor am I a particular fan of doggy-style. Most men use it as an excuse not to interact with their lover sufficiently.
But not James. James was well aware of my needs. While he thrust into me from behind, it wasn’t a constant piston action, the type that can end up just boring a cunt from repetition. He used his cock inside me, to rub here and there, to leave me guessing whether he might be slow or fast, if he might change his angle and thus excite some other part of my vagina.
More than that, his hands were in constant motion across my body. Sometimes one hand was on my clit, or teasing my nipple. Or they might simply be running down my back, or through my hair.
James knew to use his hands, and he knew how to use them. And James kept himself fit so he could take full advantage of those appendages. There were positions that he might not have been able to achieve, to move both hands around my body without collapsing, had he lacked the core strength to keep himself upright.
He was, after all, a member of the Watch in the community of Arvedo. He had to keep himself fit, though perhaps he spent more time on his body than many of his comrades.
And it wasn’t just what he was doing now. James had been an attentive lover even before we began to have sex. He’d spent just the right amount of time with his mouth on my pussy. Not enough to make me come, but enough to get me good and worked up. He could have brought me a swift orgasm with his mouth, but he didn’t, because he knew I would enjoy sex all the more for his skillful foreplay.
Of course, I’d like to say the same about my attentiveness to his cock. Though he must be the one to judge that.
“You like that Charlotte?” He said, his hand out of nowhere suddenly toying with my clit.
“Uh-huh,” I panted the words out and added a vague nod; I was too distracted by the way he made my body feel to express my desire clearly.
James grabbed me underneath my upper arms and dragged me backward, until we were both nearly upright. But his motions never stopped. He kept fucking while we knelt upright, our upper bodies grinding together while our hips did the real work.
“Yes…yes. Keep going.”
“Should I?” he teased.
“Yes. Please,” I said. And I am not one given to pleading. I was close, and James was a good lover.
But there was a knock on the door. We would have ignored it, we would have finished fucking, even if our combined moans announced to the intruders why we hadn’t come to the door.
The interlopers were not content to wait. A moment after the knock came a louder bang, a battering ram took down James’ door. And then six members of the Watch swarmed in, six of James’ coworkers, checking the apartment, and then surrounded the bed before we had any chance to disengage. They found us thus in an explicit lover’s embrace.
I was close. I was so close to my orgasm. Damn the members of the Watch for stealing it from me. That is the rudest thing that’s every been done to me. Talk about coitus interruptus.
And you thought I was going to mention some rude sexual act that a lover performed on me, didn’t you? Well, that certainly was a possibility, I’ll admit. If James hadn’t been such a good lover, what the Watch did to us wouldn’t have ranked nearly so high.
Now that little story begs for me to tell you more, doesn’t it? Why had they arrested James? What further role did I play?—because I got myself caught up in the investigation.
Oh, well. Let me continue.
Though, before I did anything else, I had to finish myself off. Yes, I was still horny, even though my sex had been interrupted by half a dozen peace officers dragging away my lover, half a dozen people who had seen me mid-sex, or just after we disengaged, but still in flagrante.
In my time I have had many lovers. So a few more men and women viewing my naked form, making lewd remarks to each other, would do little to wilt my libido.
They made me leave, head back to my own hotel room (though I didn’t bother putting on much more than my coat, because I wanted to be out of their sight as quickly as possible).
When I got back to my hotel, I rubbed one out, thinking about what might have been. My orgasm wasn’t nearly so good as what could have been. But it was worth something.