I am pleased to announce the publication of Waterlines 14. Details below....
They say that confession is good for the soul. I have something to confess to you - but I don't think it's going to do my soul any good. But here goes...
As you know, I also write erotic romances under the name Rachel Cray. I was half-way through my latest novella (a BDSM-style sequel to Snatched) and I got writer's block. This doesn't happen too often but, when it arrives, I break off and write something else. And I turn to the Waterlines series to write another short story for the next issue. But this time, the muse brought me three stories, one after the other.
Touch Me, Take Me
Sequel to Watch Me, Hold Me, in Waterlines 12.
Jim and Tina are still together, but Jenny, her house-mate, tries to seduce him with tempting offers of a vacation and kinky sex. She even hints at blackmail if he refuses. Should he accept? And how can he escape this situation without Tina knowing?
An Athletics Meeting
Homeward-bound after working late, Dave sees two girls behaving strangely in the road. They attract his attention and lure him to their bedroom for some fun and games. Could this be the start of a long, wild three-way liaison?
Watching... and Feeling...
Richard rents a room in a house with two other women; one is a bully but is his landlady's sister and teases him. When drunk, she makes demands on him. He doesn't want to lose his room. What should he do?
I'd been working late at the office and stopped at a bar for a quick drink before going home. I'd just missed a bus and knew that I’d have to wait half an hour for the next one; it was a warm night and I decided to start walking. I'd done the journey on foot many times and found it took little more than 45 minutes. I left the bar around nine o'clock.
I hadn't been long on the road, going through a residential district; although it had seen better times it didn't have a reputation for serious criminal activity so I was happy to take the risk walking alone this time in the evening. I heard some laughing and shouting a little way ahead; I noticed two young women, apparently enjoying themselves. No doubt they'd had a little too much to drink and I judged them to be harmless.
I continued walking towards them. There was hardly any traffic about, and occasionally they staggered into the middle of the road and ran back again. As I got closer, they ceased shouting and their wild laughter reduced to giggling.
Then, in the dim streetlight, I saw what was happening. They were both standing at the kerbside, holding up their skirts, their hands at their crotch, their knees bent and leaning back to pee. I was surprised at the distance of their arc; it was forceful, reaching right out to the middle of the road.
I stopped beside a parked car and watched, entranced at their performance. I'd never seen a woman pee that far before, and here were two of them having some kind of competition. It was almost an athletics meeting, I grinned to myself. I became excited; I could feel my erection grow in my pants, and wished I'd been standing next to a large van so I could hide behind it and jerk myself off at this live show that I was so lucky to chance upon.
They both seemed to be in their own little world; they were giggling to each other but I couldn't make out their conversation. When it looked as if they'd finished, I continued walking towards them, thinking they'd probably ignore me now they'd had their fun.
"Hey, mister!" one called to me. "Did you see us pee?"
Feeling a bit shy, I offered her a smile.
"Well, did you? You were close enough to see."
"I was very impressed."
"Do you need to go? Can you beat my distance?"
"I doubt it."
"Oh, come on. Get it out and let's see you try."
Having gotten that off my chest, I'd better head back to working on my romance novella (the provisional title is Taste For Revenge)
Back again soon,