A new title : No Touching!

Hello again!

I have at last finished a new title.  It's called No Touching!  and is a steamy romance containing the usual fetish elements that find their way into my stories, including a new one that involves the use of fruit or vegetables.
As I explain in the opening pages, this story is based on three events which happened to co-workers and friends some years ago; I've blended those events into one story, which I hope you'll enjoy.  The e-book is available on Amazon in all its flavors right now, and it should be up on Smashwords, Draft2Digital and all their associated companies (including Apple and Barnes & Noble) in the next few days.

Here are a few details:

Adults Only.  Warning: this was written for an audience aged over 18 and it contains elements which some people may find offensive, such as the watersports fetish and the use of fruit or vegetables in a sex act.
 
Sheila offers George a lift home after an office party one night.  On the way, she acts on an impulse and - unintentionally - arouses his passions; her feelings are stimulated, too, and this incident leads to a weekly session where they meet at his house. 
Standing opposite each other, face-to-face, they watch as they perform acts with themselves in which they find sexual fulfillment.  They have an important rule: they are not permitted to touch each other’s bodies, and this self-imposed regulation drives their excitement to a higher level.
When this thrill gets out of control, there are unforeseen results.  Will they ever be able to resume their kinky practices?  And will their strange routine allow their relationship to evolve into anything closer?

And here's a short extract:



     I arrived on George’s doorstep armed with a bottle of wine and a cake.  I hoped that might charm him round after the two flashpoints we’d had in the office that week.
     When he opened the door to invite me in, he wore a broad smile that disarmed me; I was expecting to have a frank conversation with him to clear the air before we started.  “Thanks for this,” he said as he accepted the wine.  “It’s very generous, but you shouldn’t have bothered.”
     “But I wanted to.  After the week we’ve had at the office.”
     “The office is an entirely different world.  Let’s pretend that it doesn’t exist.”
     In an ordinary situation, in the circles in which I moved, it would be natural for us to greet each other with a brief kiss on the cheek at a social event.  But he kept his distance; I needed no reminder of our “no touching” rule.
     He invited me to sit down in his living room while he uncorked the wine and fetched a knife and two plates to serve the cake.  Looking round the room again, I saw a cluster of bananas in a fruit bowl on a shelf near the table.  I felt a warm glow; I’d been thinking about using a banana, and had made a mental note to bring some with me to this session.  But there was no need.
     “Here we are,” he announced, bringing in two full glasses of wine.  “Would you like to carve the cake?”
     I cut two slices and served them on the plates.
     “I’d like to try something different tonight,” he said.  “Do you have any thoughts?”
 
 -------------

While I have your attention, I would like to offer my apologies for my apparent lack of productivity recently - I have so much I want to write, but I've had to spend time in hospital recently - without my laptop - and my family insisted I take a holiday afterwards; they took me to a remote place that didn't have an Internet connection.  Then, when I returned home, a couple of solicitous in-laws arrived on my doorstep "to look after me"; things turned out differently, and I spent my time looking after them while I had plots and ideas whizzing round in my brain and I didn't have the chance to get many of them down on paper.
As a result of this, I've decided to spend the next six months living like a hermit.  Maybe that will give me the chance to catch up.

Finally, you may have noticed in my earlier remarks that Draft2Digital are handling some of my work now.  Unfortunately they appear to be staffed by a congregation of Puritans and they've asked me to change some of my covers and descriptions which they deem to be inappropriate.  They're relatively new on the scene, and don't like to risk upsetting people.  This has meant extra work for me and, as a result, these guys are still on probation as far as I'm concerned.

That's all for now, Folks!  Now, back to a new story for the forthcoming Waterlines 20....

Best
Chris

Waterlines 17 is here!

Hello again!

I hadn't expected to be writing here again so soon, but I am pleased to announce that Waterlines 17 has been published by Amazon KDP and Smashwords (for Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, et al).  The cover is a little provocative because it depicts a well-dressed woman cleaning the urinals in a men's restroom, and I suspect this unusual scene may have been the reason for the initial delay in publication with with Amazon - one can imagine a hastily-convened committee meeting at Amazon HQ to determine whether the picture breaks any "house" rules.  Waterlines 17 contains three short stories:

A Sprained Ankle :  When you've injured yourself and you can't do things that you've taken for granted for so long, it's time to get inventive....

Paintball War : Sophie, a college teacher, allows her class to go on the rampage in the woods in a paintball war. When they continue their rampage in the men's restroom, she's left clearing up the mess. But there's a silver lining to this cloud....

Subterfuge : What do you do when you're on a train, the toilet's out of action, and you want to "go" when there's no chance of any privacy?


EXTRACT:

     When her duties were done, Sophie walked back towards the common room to pick up her bags, thinking about the long holiday that awaited her.
     “Sophie!” It was Gerry calling, from a few feet behind her.
     She turned round and saw him scurrying urgently towards her.
     “A few of the Second Year students have been having fun and games in the men’s restroom upstairs. There’s paintball graffiti all over the walls. Remember our deal yesterday? No mess in the college buildings, otherwise they’d have to clear it up afterwards. Well, they’ve gone. So you’ll have to play janitor yourself. And you’ll need to do it now, before you go home today.” He walked off, allowing no time to protest.
     “But Jason is equally at fault. He should be doing it too.”
     “He’s gone.” He called, without looking back.
     Shit! she said to herself, and went upstairs to the men’s restroom.

I hope you enjoy the stories.  Subterfuge is based on an out-take I saw of a European movie some years ago.  No, I don't remember the name of the movie or which country produced it.  I couldn't understand the language spoken, so I'm confident it wasn't French or German.  If I hadn't seen this scene myself, I'd have considered the concept just a little far-fetched.  But, hey, that's what erotic fantasies are all about, don't you think?

All the best

Chrissie

email: cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter: @RachelCray1

Paying the Rent

Hello again!

I'm in the middle of writing some short stories for inclusion in Waterlines 16.  I started one called Paying the Rent; it showed promise but, as I continued writing, it became obvious to me that this was going to be a great deal longer than the usual story that goes into the Waterlines series.  And I had no way of breaking it up into a serial with two or three parts.

I could have shelved the story and found something else to put in the Waterlines edition.  I liked the story, and wanted to carry on with it, while I still had my Muse breathing down my neck.  So here it is.  But please rest assured that Waterlines 16 will be out as soon as I can finish it and get it passed by my editor.

And now here are some details for Paying the Rent:

     Adults Only. Warning: this story contains elements which some people may find offensive. If you aren't interested in golden showers or watersports, or aren't curious about the fetish, don't buy or read this book.
     Susie lives with Gerry - a control freak - but takes a break to attend a summer-school where she meets Ben, a lawyer. At the end of course party, she gets drunk and ends up in bed with Ben. When she gets home and finds that Gerry already knows what happened, he makes life hell for her. When finds a new place to live, but can't pay the rent, her new landlord has a solution.... What exactly has he in mind? (12,000 words.)

SPECIMEN EXTRACT:

     “I have a problem. You might as well know: my former boyfriend has emptied my bank account. I’m trying to get it back, but it’s going to take time.”
     “And in the meantime… you have nothing to fall back on? Nothing worth selling?”
     “No. And unless I find something pretty soon, I won’t be able to afford to pay you next month’s rent.”
     “Thanks for your honesty. I appreciate that. And I hope you can get your money back quickly. But you have to see things from my point of view. You’re a new tenant, and as far as I’m concerned you’re still on trial here. We hardly know each other, but if you’d been here for six months, let’s say, I’d know you a lot better and I’d probably feel I could trust you. If you can’t pay me when the rent is due, you’ll have to leave.”
     I hadn’t expected this reaction. I was close to tears. “But I have nowhere else to go. Can you help me? Please?” I felt as if I was begging.
     “I have a line of tenants waiting for my rooms. I allowed you to jump your turn as a personal favour to Marina, that’s all. You have to consider yourself lucky to have got this room in the first place.”
     “And Marina’s done a lot for me already, and I don’t want to pester her for any more help.”
     He thought quickly. “Maybe there’s something else. Can we go in your room for a minute or two?”
     I unlocked the door and showed him in. He sat on a chair at the table.
     “I’ve never varied arrangements for rent with a tenant before, but maybe I could be flexible in this case, provided you’re prepared to be flexible too.”
     “Honestly, Scott, I’m desperate. I’d be prepared to consider anything.”
     “I could take a month’s rent in another form.”
     I thought I could see where this was going. I remembered my grandmother telling me she once had a neighbour who had a private arrangement with her landlord.
     “Over the next month, you’d have to sleep with me – here in this room – as often as I choose, on the nights that I choose. There’s room in your bed for both of us. I’m not a violent man, and I’d never harm you. I’d never seek to humiliate you; this is a straightforward business transaction, remember. I wouldn’t make too many demands, but it’s fair to warn you that I do have a few strange fetishes and you’d be expected to satisfy me in that direction too.”
     “Fetishes? What fetishes?”
     “We could call them small services. Things that you would do naturally anyway. Nothing for you to worry about. That’s the deal. Yes or no? If you can’t bring yourself to consider it, you will have to vacate the premises by the end of this week.”
     I sighed and looked at him. He seemed a reasonable guy, I supposed. At least he wasn’t a vicious brute like Gerry. I’d have to steel myself; in the dark nights I could pretend that I had Ben, that adorable lawyer from summer-school, inside me.
     “I don’t want to pressure you, but I have to know now. As I said, I have clients waiting in line for this room if you don’t feel –” 
     “O.K. I agree. Provided it’s only for the month.”
____________

And now I have to get back to Waterlines 16...

Best,
Chrissie

email : cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter:  @RachelCray1

Caught in the Act !

Hello again!
My latest title - Caught in the Act! - has been published on Kindle and Smashwords.  I hope you like it - the story is based on three events which actually happened to people with whom I have worked over the years.  I took the three threads and spun them into one single narrative.

Here's the outline:

Sally is promoted and moved to a new job; she finds a key member of her staff has a private habit and has alienated the rest of her team to the extent that its whole future is in doubt.  Anxious to make her mark in the office, she attempts to impose her own controversial solution to the problem... sometimes calling her own sanity into question.  Can she resolve the situation - and create a successful team from the remnant she has inherited?

And here's a specimen extract to whet your appetite:

At the end of one particularly exhausting day during her final period in her current job, she was relieved when it was time to get to bed.  She lived alone in her apartment, and had become used to her routine; she hoped that the new job wouldn’t interfere with the way of life that she had established over the years.  Sleep came easily to her that night but she was visited by an unusual dream. 

She was in the bar where she had been celebrating with her friends shortly after the news of her promotion had been announced.  This time, she was sitting in the chair that had been occupied by the young guy who had stared at her with such passion as he played with himself.  And the guy was back there in the dream, drinking at the table she had used; she looked down at his lap, and noticed he had his cock out again.  It was hanging limp, waiting to be entertained.

Responding to the challenge, she pulled up her skirt and made sure he could see the tops of her stockings, with the fastenings of her suspenders or garters.  He was electrified.  His hand flew to his crotch and his fingers curled round his cock.  She decided to go further, and pulled her panties aside to show him her pussy.  He began pumping hard at his dick.  Licking her lips to entice him further, she allowed her hand to wander down to her clit, parting her labia and showing him her vagina.

His face had gone red with pleasure, his eyes concentrating on her stockings, her thighs and her genitalia.  It can’t be long now, she thought.  He’ll have to come soon.

She focused her attention on the tiny pee-hole at the end of his dick head, willing his semen to spill out on to the carpet.

But, for all the energy he was putting into the exercise, his climax wouldn’t arrive.  Disappointed, but eager to help, she got out of her chair and knelt down under his table, positioning herself between his feet.  Without a word, she reached forward and put his warm erection in her mouth, moving it round gently with her tongue.

With her lips locked round his shaft, she groaned in an effort to prompt him to share his pleasure with her.  He remained silent; she moaned louder.

She jolted in her bed, and woke up.  She had been moaning in her sleep, and the sound had quickly returned her to the real world.  Her crotch was wet from her dream.

Looking at her alarm clock, she noticed it was only three o’clock.  She turned over and willed herself back to the bar, hoping to resume her ardour with this stranger.  But the scene wouldn’t return, and she felt frustrated; she couldn’t get back to sleep while she was in this state.

Grabbing her pillow, she tucked it between her legs and thrust her pelvis against it; she squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of the guy in the chair who was jerking himself off as the edge of the pillow brushed roughly against her clit.  In less than a minute she felt overcome with an intense rapture that flooded through her, bringing her infatuation to its conclusion.

---------------------

I hope you enjoy it!  I'm busy preparing stories for inclusion in the next edition of Waterlines (number 15).  Watch this space for more news.

Keep smiling!
Best,
Chris

email: cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter: @RachelCray1

Dating a Dickgirl - a novella for Futa fans

My Muse visited me around 3 a.m. one morning, while I was trying to get back to sleep, and suggested a new short story to me.  I'd finished Illusions, and was selling quite well, and Muse gave me the outline of a new tale I could write about a woman who'd actually had a modification to her sexual apparatus.  So, when I had time to spare, I began writing Dating a Dickgirl.

Here's the blurb - with an extract:

Leslie meet Ashley during a speed-dating event, and he's immediately attracted to her.  During their first date, his hand brushes against her crotch accidentally, and he wonders if she really is what she seems; as he gets to know her, it's apparent that she has secrets and he begins to lose interest in her... although he'd like to know exactly what she's hiding, and why.  Then he lands a date with Katie, a widow he met while speed-dating, and - after a shaky start - she presents him with a kinky range of sexual delights.  But when Ashley finally unveils her secret to Leslie - literally - his libido goes wild.  She has immense wealth and makes him an extraordinary offer, but would it guarantee him happiness forever?  There's only room in his life for one girl; which one is the right one for him?

EXTRACT:

          “Have you used sex toys, Leslie?”
          “What do you mean, Katie?  Handcuffs and other BDSM stuff?”
          “No.  I bought a vibrator to use to finish off if he couldn’t do it for me, but - in the end - I used it on myself while he was out.  And I even bought one of those strap-on dildo things.  I’d heard some men enjoy anal sex - if you can reach up to their prostate, you can get them to come that way, without the need for a hand-job.”
          “But were they designed to go up a man’s anus?”  I asked.  “I’m sure the ones I’ve seen would be too thick to go up mine.”
          “We could try later, if you wanted.”  Her eyes lit up.
          “Some other time, perhaps.  Let’s be conventional, just tonight, and see what happens.”
          “As you wish.  But you admitted you were an adventurous sort of person.”
          “I never used toys.  No: I had a fetish and my last girlfriend wasn’t keen.”
          She looked at me expectantly.  When I didn’t enlarge on my last comment, she became impatient.  “Well?  Come on, Leslie.  I’m waiting.  What is this secret fetish you have?”
          “Golden showers, or watersports.  I enjoy watching women pee, or feeling them pee against my genitals.”
          “Oh, is that all?  I thought it was going to be something really wild and kinky.”
          “Well, she thought it was kinky.  And that I was a pervert for entertaining such thoughts.”
          “Leslie, you’re not a pervert.  Trust me.  I’d be happy to water your dick and balls for you, if it was going to turn you on.”
....
          Within the next fifteen minutes, we were on her sofa; I sat at one end, and she sprawled herself across its length with her head resting in my lap.  She looked up at me and smiled.  “I know that spending the afternoon watching that movie doesn’t come anywhere near the wonderful Saturday afternoon you gave me last week, but I have to tell you that I feel like I’m in heaven with you right now.”
          I caressed her hair.  We were both relaxing, listening to some soft romantic music.
          Without warning, she rolled over and, looking down at my fly, quickly unzipped it and fished out my prized possession.  “He's my special friend,” she announced.  Then her head sank down, taking my penis between her lips.
          My hand found its way up her skirt; when I realised she was wearing stockings, I felt my dick growing quickly.  My fingers traced onward until they found her anal crevice, and worked their way forward to touch the wet entrance to her vagina.
          She drew her head away from my lap and looked up at me.  “Shall we go to bed?”
          “I’m ready when you are.”
          “I need to pee first.  Shall we stop in the bathroom on the way?”

----------------

I started out with the aim of containing the whole narrative in a space of around 10,000 words, which follows my recent pattern of writing.  But other forces intervened.  A secondary character insisted on having a greater role in the story and, by the time I'd finished, the whole story came to nearly 30,000 words - a novella, rather than a short story.  And, from this, the idea for a prequel emerged - set six hundred years earlier, round an ancestor of one of the primary characters in Dating a Dickgirl; provisionally entitled Dickgirl in a Dungeon, this will follow just as soon as I've finished my new project, a contemporary short story.

I do hope you enjoy reading Dating a Dickgirl!

Best

Chrissie

Latest title: Deflowered

(Note added, October 15: Amazon took exception to some aspects of this book and it has been retitled His First Time.  However, every word in the book is the same... only the title and the front cover have had to be changed.  And, at the time of writing, you can still get the original version from Smashwords, Barnes & Noble and Apple).

My latest title, Deflowered, has just been published on Amazon.  It should also be available through Smashwords, Barnes & Noble and Apple very soon.  It’s a reasonably short story - over 12,000 words; I did try to keep it to a standard ten thousand, but the characters wouldn’t stop talking towards the end, and I couldn’t get everything resolved within the usual timeframe.  I just kept writing until the characters reached their happy ending.
 

Here’s the blurb:

Daniel is 19 but looks a handsome 23.  He secures a job in an office where he’s the only guy; his co-workers are prickly to start with but, when a couple of them find out he's a virgin, he's led into a world of sexual release through the discovery of a fetish which excites his desire.  But is it enough to tempt him to stay with that crowd, who can get up to some crazy mischief?  Or is there another girl, waiting for him, with whom he might reach new heights? 

EXTRACT:

When they arrived at the pub, they found an empty table, long enough to accommodate them all.  Judith appointed herself as the waitress and started taking orders.  A kitty was agreed, and each member of the group contributed their share into a growing pile of cash on the table.

“Do you need a hand with the drinks?” he asked her.

“No, she doesn’t,” said one girl; when he turned to identify her, he realised it was Sandra, the same girl who had tripped into his arms the evening before.  “Come and sit next to me, Daniel.”

He shrugged and obeyed.  The girls were pairing themselves off, starting to talk to their neighbour round the table.

“I’m sorry about the misunderstanding yesterday,” Sandra began.  “I get the impression that you thought I was taking the piss.  I wasn’t.  I’ve got a little girlie crush on you, and I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

He thought quickly.  “Maybe.  I’m not sure...”

“Would this help you make up your mind?”  She quickly grabbed his wrist and thrust his hand up her skirt. 

His instinct was to draw away from her sharply, but it was too late.  He felt the warm pantyhose covering her crotch and was overcome with a desire to have some kind of sex with her.

“Keep it up there for as long as you like,” she whispered to him.  “And this afternoon, if you fancy it, we could go down the basement for some fun together.”

----------------

Now for some other news.  One of my recent titles, Illusions, has met with some success from an unexpected readership - fans of Futanari (or ‘Dickgirl’) fiction.  I decided I’d follow this through with an experiment, writing another story based more solidly in the Futanari/Dickgirl sub-genre.  I decided it would probably be around 10,000 words long - like so many of the other titles I’ve created - but I’m already at the four thousand word point and, from the way I’ve set the pace, the story looks like it’s going to be nearer 20,000 or even 30,000 words in length.  But don’t worry - length of my work doesn’t affect the price. 

The working title?  Dickgirl Dating.

I'm always pleased to hear from my readers - please write in!
The address is cpw@restroom.net

Until next time,

Chris

Illusions : a short story of an erotic dream and its aftermath

Hello again!

     My latest title, a 10,400 word piece, is a slight departure from the genre in which I have been writing recently - namely, watersports and golden showers.  Illusions still contains elements of this, but I wanted to experiment with futanari or futa (or, as some say, dickgirl).  Alan, the hero in this story, has an erotic dream where he is sleeping in a college and needs to take a leak in the men's room.  He is joined by a girl whom he met the previous day, and - in the dream - she has a fully-functioning penis.  And testicles too.  When he sees her standing next to him, using the urinal, his libido goes wild and... well, you'll have to read the story.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

     Here's the blurb:

     Alan and Fran meet at an evening class; when he gets home, he has an erotic dream about her which consumes him until he sees her the following week.  Was it all an impossible illusion?  She agrees to go on a date - but will he persuade her to help him re-enact any of his obsession?  When he takes her home, Fran hears some news which may impact on her lifestyle; Alan suggests a solution which may suit both of them, despite her initial misgivings; such a solution could lead to a relationship bringing passionate, unbridled sex, and enabling them to realise the fantasy he dreamed.

EXTRACT:

     “This is amazing,” she smiled.  “It’s such a small world.  First, you knew Jenny, and now you remember Pam.  I wonder how many other friends of mine you know.  I’ll have to write a list and get you to check against which ones have entered your life too.”
     “It might be quicker if I were to write you a list of all the girls I’ve ever been with, if you’ve got a small Post-It note.”
     “Oh, come on, Alan.  I’m sure you’d need a couple of big sheets of paper.”  In a moment of carelessness, perhaps, she parted her knees and allowed me a glimpse up her skirt.  Between her thighs, I saw her white panties and imagined the same camel toe, or pussy-cleavage, that I had noticed when we first met that day on the beach.  The memory brought me an instant erection; I couldn’t help myself.  I began to fidget.
     She noticed.  “Are you all right, there?” she asked.  Then she realised I was looking between her legs and immediately closed her knees tight together.  “Oh, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to be a tease.  I don’t entertain men here very often, and I completely –”
     “Don’t worry about it,” I smiled shyly, putting my hand up to reassure her.  “It was very nice while the view lasted.”
     “I’ve made you go hard, haven’t I?”  She was embarrassed.  “Oh, Alan, I’m so sorry.”
     “There’s no need.  It’s made me look forward even more to our date tomorrow.  I’ll just have to make sure I fix your car first.”
     I finished my coffee and rose from my chair.
     “Thanks for the drink, Fran.  And I’ll see you at two tomorrow.”
     I left her apartment with a little more speed than I would have liked.  Perhaps I left her with the impression that I wanted to get home for a cold shower after seeing her accidental display.

-----

     Whilst writing, I can tell you that I have another short work on the drawing board.  I hope to have it out early in May.  I don't want go into too much detail about it here, but it does have some bearing on real life... it's based on an experience that was related to me by an old friend.  It happened a long time ago, and I've had to bring the background up-to-date; I just don't have time to undertake historical research these days.  Even if the story had been set 20 years ago, the critics would be sharpening their pencils, hoping to catch me out on some obscure detail.  That's why I like writing contemporary erotica.  
Finally, I'm always pleased to hear from my readers - you can reach me at
cpw@restroom.net

Best
CPW

Waterlines 14 is out!

Hello!

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?
(6280 words)

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?
(3000 words)

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?
(4800 words)   

EXTRACT:

     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,

Chris

Sisters at War - sequel to Sibling Rivals

I wrote Sibling Rivals in April last year (2012) shortly after the publication of Waterlines 3.  I wasn't quite sure how long it was going to be - once I had the characters in my mind, I let them take over.  Or rather, I let my muse hold them on a light rein.  I'd always thought that the story had more potential; I didn't want Gavin to march round to Valerie's house and tell her it was all over.  She's too nice a girl to be treated that way.

So I wrote Sisters at War slowly during December - I had to look back at my diary to check when the muse first delivered the germ of the story to me.  It's a lot longer than Sibling Rivals - it runs on to more than 11,500 words and I was beginning to wonder when it would come to a stop.  Dare I say... there's the possibility of a follow-on, but that's in the hands of my muse: now that Sophie's finished Tony, she'll be pestering Gavin again soon... she knows where he lives....

Anyway, here's the blurb:

After a brief fling with Sophie, Gavin had an affair with her sister Valerie.  Although he enjoyed the physical aspects of their relationship, the two girls were always at loggerheads with each other, and Gavin was tiring of the situation.  He wanted to finish with Val, but she persuaded him that they had a future together, and invited him to lunch at her home with Sophie and her new boyfriend.  However, the obnoxious, sex-hungry Sophie had designs for the afternoon - designs which backfired in a spectacular way.  How could Val - meek and placid but not without her own sexual charms which attracted Gavin - escape from her sister and still keep her man?  And how could Gavin get the message across to Sophie that she should get out of his life forever?

EXTRACT:

     I can’t remember how we got round to talking about it, but the subject of conversation drifted round towards group sex.
     “Have you ever had more than one woman in a bed?” Sophie asked Tony.
     He paused before replying.  Drink was beginning to affect them all.  Except me.  “No,” he answered.  “You know me.  One at a time is enough.  I couldn’t cope with more.”
     “I’m with Tony there,” I grinned.  “Ladies are so demanding, and I don’t like to disappoint them.  That’s why I wouldn’t try overreaching myself.”
     All eyes turned to Val.  “Don’t look at me,” she laughed.  “I’ve never got involved in that scene.  But I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been there,” she added, looking at Sophie.
     “I’ve tried it once,” she admitted.  “And it was a bit like sex the first time: I felt a bit let down, but eager to give it a second chance.”
     “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” her sister asked.
     “A foursome, you mean?  Why not?  You’ve got Gavin, and I have Tony.  We’ve had enough drink to feel free with ourselves, haven’t we?  And I won’t fuck your man if you don’t fuck mine.  I’m sure you have room in your bed for all of us.”
     Soon Tony yawned.
     “Had a late night last night?” I asked.  “Sophie kept you busy?”
     “No.  I went to bed early.  And alone,” he replied.  “I feel so tired.  And I don’t know why.”
     I had my own suspicions.  I looked at Sophie; she cast a worried glance at Tony.
     “Come on,” she said.  “Let’s get the plates cleared away.  Then we can have some fun.  Tony and Gavin, you can get into the bedroom and start undressing.”
     Val and I caught each other’s eyes.  .... Tony and Sophie didn’t seem to notice us.
     “Do as she says, Gavin.  For me.  I’m feeling horny.  I’m not bothered about the other two being in there with us.”
     I went into the bedroom and began undressing.  Tony was in there already, half-undressed and sprawled across the bed.  “Still feeling tired?” I chuckled.
     There was no reply.
     I went up to him.  He was fast asleep, breathing softly
     ....
     The girls were laughing in the kitchen; the noise of the dishwasher reached my ears, and then Sophie came into the bedroom and stared at Tony lying on the bed.
     “Relax.  It’s not a corpse,” I joked.  “He seems to have fallen asleep.  He’s out cold.”
     Sophie thought for a moment, and then beamed.  “Just what I’ve always wanted!  A comatose guy entirely at my mercy!  I want to see if I can jerk him off!”

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I hope you enjoy it.

Whilst I'm writing here, I must tell you that I noticed yesterday that Apple don't seem to list three of my titles on my sales page.  I believe they may be unhappy about the cover on the first Waterlines, but I can change that, although I don't know if there's a problem with the others which aren't offered for sale on Apple (Waterlines 6 and 9).  More news here when I get the answers.

Best,
Chris

Waterlines 13 won't be published. Here's why....

Hello!

The latest edition of Waterlines has just been finished and will be ready for sale in the next day or so.  I'm superstitious, so it's not going to be called Waterlines 13.  I've called it Waterlines 12A. The next one will be called Waterlines 14 - I won't break the numerical sequence again unless I write a longer, single story (like Sibling Rivals and Business Incentives).

Here's the blurb for Waterlines 12A:

Homecoming
Larry is a soldier returning from operations. After six months he's eager to see his girlfriend, but he's horny as hell and hasn't even seen a woman in six months.  Temptations are placed in his way on the journey home - can he keep his self-control, or will he succumb to any of the enticements of any of the girls he meets?

The Coach Pot
Colin is at an auction and meets Leslie, an old flame from his days when working in Oxford.  She's bidding for an antique bourdaloue; what's it for?  When she shows him, he becomes sexually excited and they re-establish their "connection".  Although he's tempted, he doesn't want a full-on relationship with her.  How can he escape?

The Men's Room
Margaret is working overtime one weekend, alone with Ted in a building.  She's sexually attracted to him for a long time and, she discovers, he feels the same way about her.  But there's a job to be done.  How can they get their act together?  Thanks to the half-finished work of the plumbing contractors, an opportunity presents itself....

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EXTRACT:

     “There’s some beer in the fridge.  Help yourself.  I’m going to change into one of my Regency outfits.”
     I went to the kitchen and cracked open a can of lager.  I heard her come out of her bedroom and throw something on an armchair.
     “You can try these on, if you like.  But take off your underpants before you wear them.  Then we’ll both be ‘in period’.”
     She’d returned to the bedroom by the time I got back to her living room.  She’d left me a pair of light grey breeches to put on.  I stripped off and tried to step into this apparel, but found them too constricting round my crotch.  “I’m sorry, Leslie, but they’re too tight.  I can’t wear them.”
     “They’re meant to be tight.  I’ll explain in a minute.  Try again.”
     I sat down and edged them up my thighs and over my hips.  When I finally stood up, I found my manhood bulged through the drop-front fly.  It was like being back at the auction, trying to suppress my erection under the catalogue.
     She emerged from her bedroom shortly, dressed beautifully in a white full-length plain gown that could easily have come from the props department of a film studio where a Jane Austen film had been produced.  Pride and Prejudice immediately sprang to mind.  Her large bust was somehow less noticeable now; she wore a high waistband, and perhaps she had taken off her bra.
     Leslie was one of life’s larger ladies but, wearing her Regency gown now, she looked truly beautiful.  She wore her hair up, too, and seemed quite a different person.
     “Wow,” I said.  “Just look at you.”
     “You like?” she asked, twirling round slowly.
     “Yes.  I’m amazed.”
     “Now I need a drink before I use my coaching pot.”
     I moved quickly to the kitchen.  “Hey, Colin.  Your butt looks good in those pantaloons.”
     “I thought they were breeches?”
     “No.  The tight-fitting fashionable ones like those were called pantaloons.”
     “I knew there was a reason you wanted me to wear them.”  I filled a glass and returned.
     “And look at your....”  She pointed down to my crotch.  “He’s struggling to get out of there, isn’t he?  Looking at the outline of your tight cock and balls is making me go wet and excited.”  Leslie drank her glass of water.
     “And now for your demonstration,” I prompted her.
     She turned and grabbed a coach pot from a shelf – I hadn’t noticed it there before – and held it up.  “Voilà la bourdaloue, Monsieur,” she announced.  It looked exactly like the items I’d seen at the auction and in the catalogue. 
     Next, Leslie raised her skirt to her waist and placed the pot between her open thighs, holding it low enough for me to watch her.

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Just in case you're wondering what a coach pot, or bourdaloue, looks like... here's one:

The Men's Room is a minor departure from my usual style in that it's written from a girl's point of view.  I started it in the usual fashion, from the guy's angle, but realised it would be more interesting from her viewpoint. 

I hope you get as much enjoyment out of reading this issue as I did when I wrote it.

All the best for 2013,
Chrissie

Waterlines 12 has just been published.

Hello again!

The Amazon Kindle and Smashwords editions of Waterlines 12 have just been published.  I hope you enjoy reading the stories - this time I managed to squeeze a third story in, which is a departure from the usual two-story format.

Here's the blurb:

Warning: Adults only.  Do not read if you're not interested in golden showers.  Three short stories, total  10,140 words. 
Watch Me, Hold Me
Jim goes on a date with Tina, his sister's old schoolfriend.  He's dated her some years before; why should this date be any different from the first one?  Can she keep him any longer this time?  How long is their relationship likely to last?  And why? 
At the Bus Stop
When a guy takes his car to a garage for repairs, he finds a strange woman who engages his attention in a kinky, spontaneous manner. She makes no secret of wanting to see him again.  But he has other ideas.... 
More Fun at the Bank
Brian returns to Julia's branch of the bank, where Anna is now in charge.  Things are going to be different now: Anna has her own agenda, and Brian is uneasy.  How is he going to exticate himself from a relationship with her?  Can he get back with Julia somehow?

And here's an extract from More Fun at the Bank to whet your appetite:

     Julia continued.  “By the way, Brian, I’d better warn you.  Anna, the girl who was my assistant at the branch, has now been made manager in my place –”
     “I know,” I said.
     “- and she fancies you.  Don’t go down the basement with her.  She’ll steal you from me.”
     “You’re jealous!” I laughed.
     “Listen, Brian.  That girl is dangerous.  She has friends in high places at the bank.  She can pull strings and manipulate people.”
     “Then why has she only just been promoted to manager?  If she has that many powerful friends, why hasn’t she been put on the bank’s fast-track programme?”
     “Because her uncle has only just been appointed chairman of the bank.”
     My jaw dropped open.  There was nothing I could say.
     The following morning, just before I left home to go to work, my mobile phone rang.  I announced my name.
     “Hello, gorgeous,” Anna replied.  “When are you coming to the branch?  There are people here who want to see you.”
     “Anna!  Hi!  Congratulations on your promotion.  How’s the new job?”
     “All right, thanks.  Now when are you coming to see us?”
     “I was planning to come tomorrow, provided I can get to see some customers.”
     “I’ve got one customer lined up for you already.  Tell me what time you’re coming and I’ll fix the appointment for you.”
     “Great.  What’s the person’s name?”
     “Anna Robinson.”
     “You?”
     “Yes, Brian.  Me.  I want to see you.  Urgently.  Can you come today, maybe?  This afternoon?”
     “I’m not sure...”
     “If this were Julia, you’d drop everything to come.  I saw you with her in the branch basement, remember.  I know what you did together.  And you promised me some of the same.  Julia’s gone now, so there’s no excuse.”
I hope to have some more stories out in January.  In the meantime, may I take this opportunity to thank you for your support during 2012, and to wish you all a very happy new year.

Best wishes
Chris

cpw@restroom.net