Sexy as Hell is the star of this week's My Sexy Saturday, and what's more this box set is on special offer at just 99c/99p! That's three BDSM novels plus three spin-off stories at a bargain price and what's more it's got a string of 5* reviews.
This weeks' theme is addicted to love and Victor Partridge and Zara Watson certainly get themselves tangled up in love and a million other emotions that fill their thoughts and their hearts. Here's a few... Zara has sent Victor a butt plug via courier while he's at work and instructed him to try it...
Setting one foot up on the toilet lid, I circled my tightly puckered back-hole with my fingertip. It had only ever been an exit in the past; the notion of entering had never crossed my mind. I’d never fucked a woman’s arse, never had a great desire to, but now here was me, bending to Zara’s will and seriously thinking about shoving a butt plug into my rectum.
I carried on wanking, reached for the plug and dipped the end in the water. Cursed when the water dripped down my leg onto my sock and brown leather shoe. The globule balanced and then trickled to the sole.
I pressed the smooth tip of the plug against my hole, clenched my teeth and eased it in, just a fraction.
Whoa, that felt weird. Not painful, just weird.
My cock grew further at the rudeness of my action. I carried on masturbating, building up the pressure. Took a deep breath and penetrated my arse another inch, enjoying each stretching sensation of my tight ring as the taper increased.
A long, low groan escaped my lips, rumbled around the room, and I squatted slightly, as if encouraging my own movements, wanting more.
I gave it; the damn thing must have been halfway in by now. I could feel it touching my insides. Pressing on something that was immediately greedy for sensation. A lump that was sensitive, hungry, and just being stroked by the very tip of the plug had a shiver swirling through my pelvis.
My knees shook, so did my chest when I heaved in a breath. I glanced to the right and saw my reflection in the full-length, smoky mirror.
Jesus bloody Christ.
The image that greeted me made my heart rate scatter. What the hell was I doing? I looked lewd, insane, like I’d decided to make my own porno movie.
I was in my private bathroom at work, minus my pants, shoving a sexy toy up my arse and, to top it all, having a wank.
That wasn’t me. Since when did Mr Victor Partridge, CEO of Partridge and Partners, behave this way?
Fucking Zara, she’d screwed with my head, my identity, and now with my professional life.
It had to stop.