The Master of Glastonbury has arrived

Hello again! 

At last I'm pleased to announce the publication of The Master of Glastonbury.  Thoughts about this story have been lurking on my radar since mid-January, and I started writing it at the beginning of March; other projects intervened (notably Waterlines 15) and I've been working hard at it over the last month, with several final retouches to the text.  I'm relieved it's finally complete!

Here are the details, with an extract to whet your appetite:

Medieval erotica: A story associated with The Poor Nuns series.
Agnes, a gifted artist, dresses as a man to achieve her ambition to become a master painter in great church buildings; her sexual frustrations lead her to create private works of erotic art for private commissions.  Following a narrow escape from a sexual assault one night, she needs somewhere to hide and is permitted to wear a monk’s habit whilst continuing to work in a remote nunnery, a safe haven.  But she craves to become accepted as a woman once more; to be married and raise a family.  Can she ever rid herself of her past life?

SAMPLE:

     Agnes spent much of her spare time the next day with Master Edward’s book of sketches, studying the pictures of David - dancing provocatively half-naked before the Ark - and of Judith with Holofernes.  Deciding finally on Judith as her subject, she would have her masturbating the drunken Holofernes while she had her knife poised at his neck. This would give her the most sexual pleasure; she could work this theme with a passion, with the kind of driving fury she had seen others apply in their work here when they were totally absorbed. She identified the empty space she would use for her sketch, and would bide her time when she could be left alone to fulfil her growing infatuation.
     The evening came; it was still early enough for her to have all the light she needed, although she would have to work fast. As was her custom, she returned the book to Master Edward without raising any suspicion as to her intentions; then, rather than walking out of the church, she made for the chapel containing the blank wall.
     First, she sketched the head and sinewy body of the male figure, the Assyrian general Holofernes; bearded and handsome, like the lord of the manor who had released her into the care of Master Edward, he rested with his eyes shut, drunk with wine and desire for the young Jewish widow who held him in her arms. Then she began delineating Judith, her breasts cascading out of her loose upper garment, her legs apart provocatively. One arm reached up, holding the general’s sword at his neck, while the other hand went down to caress his erect penis. She wondered whether the original Judith had actually managed to induce her adversary to climax in the moment of his death; she felt a pounding in her crotch as she viewed the completed work. It was important for her to capture the whole scene in her mind for, one day, she would recreate this picture on a wall somewhere for an important commission, painted to perfection and admired by everyone who saw it.
     When she had committed everything to memory, she knew it was time to wash it away. For it must not be seen by anyone; if any of the priests or monks here saw her at work on this - with its erotic connotations - she would be severely punished. It was unseemly for a woman to paint or draw a man’s genitals, particularly a single woman. She would be branded a whore and would be consigned to a brothel at a local tavern to work.
     On the verge of panic, she reached for a rag and plunged it in a pail of water that she had standing ready. There were voices outside in the nave, and they were getting louder. Edging against the doorway, she saw three monks approaching. She would have to stop erasing her work and see to her own survival. Then a voice called out in the distance. The monks turned, and she heard a discussion begin. She looked round the chapel, and saw a table-tomb standing in one corner; it stood only two feet high, and probably contained the remains of a former abbot. There was just enough room for her to hide behind it if the monks came through the doorway.
     Racing over to her hiding place, she squatted behind it and waited to see if the men entered the chapel. She heard footsteps, and looked round the end of the tomb. Only one of the monks had entered, and he was looking at her work. She heard him gasp, and watched as he shuffled his hands round his robe. Although his body hid his actions, he seemed to be holding something in front of him, although his gaze was fixed on her picture. His elbow moved slowly, almost rhythmically, and she realised that he was starting to masturbate. He had been sexually excited by the image she had created out of her own imagination.
     This, to her, was the ultimate accolade; she had inspired a man - through her work - to feel the need to express seed out of his body. And this recognition made her feel sexually excited. If he could make love to himself at the sight of her accomplishment, then so could she. As she began fingering herself, she noticed the monk’s strokes were becoming faster. And her own crotch was soaked with the juices of her pleasure. The monk was interrupted by a call from someone outside, and he left with his pleasure unfinished.  She would have to hold her breath when she climaxed. But, as that moment approached, she heard him depart quickly and she could relax, allowing her orgasm its full and unconditional gratification.
     No sounds were heard now, but she considered it unsafe to remain. Confident that she could escape unnoticed, she got up and made straight for the doorway into the nave, ignoring her sketch on the wall. Within minutes, she was back at her lodgings.
     “Where were you after dinner?” asked Joan when they climbed in bed.
     “I went for a walk. It was a pleasant evening,” she replied.
     “More like she’s found a man to fill her hole,” laughed one of the sisters. “There’s a curious glow about her face. Can you see?”
     “Enough! I’ll tell your father about your filthy mind,” she hissed, and rolled over, hiding her head under the blanket.
--------------

     Just for the record, there are plenty of instances of women doing masquerading as men - especially during the First World War (1914-1918) - when women went to fight and, hiding their gender, used specially-made wooden pipes to assist stand-up urination when standing next to the men when relieving themselves.  We only know of those occasions when the women were killed or injured in battle and they were discovered to be female.  How many other women went to war and returned home unscathed, having successfully hidden their secret?

     I hope you get as much enjoyment out of reading this story as I did writing it.  I shall be making tentative steps to write the next in this series - Return to the Poor Nuns - very soon.  It depends on what the Muse delivers into my mind first; I have a nice story already written for Waterlines 16, and am waiting to conceive another two tales to complement it.

     Please feel free to write to me at any time - I'm always interested in feedback and, if you're worried about privacy, I can assure you that your identity will never be disclosed to anyone.

Best

Chrissie

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

The Poor Nuns series

Right now I'm putting the final revisions to my latest work, The Master of Glastonbury, which is a story associated with The Poor Nuns series.  It occurred to me that I ought to write something here to clarify a couple of points, just in case there's any confusion about the order you should read the books, since I have not written them in a strict sequence.

Quite honestly, these stories can be read in any order.  In fact, when I began the first one (Dating a Dickgirl), set a few years in the future, I wasn't sure whether it would be popular enough to justify creating a series; I alluded to a family legend in that story and, when I realised a chain of books in this theme (futa, or woman with a penis - coupled with a bunch of horny nuns) would "have wheels", I wrote a story round the family legend (Dickgirl in the Dungeon); it turned out that the legend was based on a fairy story set a century earlier, so I wrote that (A Poor Nun's Endowment).  I guess that means we're talking here about writing a prequel to a prequel.

But that's where we stop going backwards.  Now all the stories will be moving forward, a step at a time.  If you haven't read any of these yet, you might derive the most pleasure from them if you read them in the following order.  But it's not compulsory!

1.  A Poor Nun's Endowment (narrated by the nun, Dame Anna, with the prologue and epilogue by Michael, her pupil)
2.  The Poor Nuns in Revolt (narrated by Michael)
3.  The Master of Glastonbury (narrated by Michael) - to be published soon.
4.  Return of the Poor Nuns (narrated by Agnes, Anna's daughter, with the prologue and epilogue by Abbot Michael) - I'm just about to start the first draft.
5.  [another story to come which will cover Agnes' sexual relationship with someone - no working title yet].
6.  Dickgirl in the Dungeon (Abbot Michael's solution to a family succession problem)
7.  Dating a Dickgirl (set far in the future - with an idea sparked off from an old family tradition about Abbot Michael, a distant ancestor)

I must tell you that The Master of Glastonbury is longer than the others in this series - almost twice as long - which has held up the schedule for writing my other stories.  I hadn't planned this - I have to blame my Muse for coming up with extra ideas as I've been busy at the laptop.
  Finally, I would mention here that I'm considering rewriting Dickgirl in the Dungeon.  The words will all be the same but (to paraphrase an old gag from Morecambe and Wise) not necessarily in the same order as the old version.  I believe I put too many flashbacks into the narrative, which might confuse the reader - so I may put everything back in a linear fashion, starting at the beginning and finishing the story at the end.  If any reader out there has a comment to make about this idea, I'd be very pleased to hear from you.

Until next time,

Best wishes,

Chris

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

At last... Waterlines 15 is out!

My sincere apologies to everyone about the delay in production of Waterlines 15.  It isn't due to laziness on my part, I assure you - I just have so many stories that I wanted to complete, and I was waiting for the Muse to descend to give me a hand.  Not only that, but I had to make a few changes in my strategy... for example, In Small, Intimate Rooms was originally intended to be a very short story that I could include in Waterlines 15 but, whilst writing it, the characters took on a life of their own and it turned out to be longer than I'd expected - so I had it published separately back in January this year as a stand-alone ebook.  And I'm close to finishing a sequel to The Poor Nuns in Revolt - but I'm still researching some details... I want to ensure historical accuracy to give the story some credibility.

And apart from that... I have two stories that I'm working on in my other personal, Rachel Cray - they're in a new series - I've been working on them both for eighteen months and I'm still changing my mind about one of the main characters.

Anyway, let's get back to talking about Waterlines 15:

Warning: these two stories are for over-18s only and contain elements which some people may find offensive. If you aren't interested in watersports (golden showers) or oral sex, or aren't remotely curious, then please don't buy or read this book.

When We Were Lovers (5,200 words)

Cheryl and Alan were once lovers, but split up after a six-month intense relationship.  After an erotic dream, she realises how much she misses him.  But when she finally tracks him down, hoping to pick up the threads of their affair, she’s in for a nasty shock.  Nothing ever stays the same.  Can anything good come out of her disappointment?

Having to Share (8,500 words)

Jessica and Ken work together; when the firm moves to new premises, there's no room for them and they have to stay behind until space is available.  There's only one toilet available that they have to share - and intimate accidents are bound to happen... especially when an unexpected visitor with a voyeuristic habit looks in, and tempts Ken into a little unplanned activity.


EXTRACT:

     Shortly after the main body of staff went to work in the new building, it was Jessica’s birthday.  Anxious to make the two of us feel as if we were still part of the organization, it was arranged that everybody would go to the local bar to help her celebrate the occasion.  By two o’clock that day, all the staff returned to work in the new office block, but I stayed with her at the bar because she looked a little unsteady on her feet.  I was watching carefully to make sure that nobody put anything in any of her drinks; someone had doctored a girl’s drink the previous year with the intention of seducing her.  The company had taken a pretty dim view of the affair, and the perpetrator had been fired as soon as he confessed.
     We stayed at the bar for another thirty minutes and then I decided I’d help her stagger back to the office and get her to sober up.  I fixed her a black coffee and she sat down in an easy chair with her legs curled round to make herself comfortable.  I returned to my desk to work, answering the phone when necessary, and soon got back into my stride.  I turned round to check Jessica was all right; she was fast asleep.
     After a while my bladder felt full, so I felt the need to go to the bathroom.  I stood at the toilet bowl in one of the cubicles, unzipped myself and began to let go.  Normally I’d have shut the door behind me but, since Jessica was asleep, I didn’t think I’d be disturbed.
     “Hello, big boy!”  It was Jessica.  My pee flow stopped automatically, and I turned round and smiled at her looking round my shoulder; as I moved, I guess she would have snatched a quick profile view of my dick. I don’t know whether she saw anything, but her face certainly looked down in that direction.
     “It’s O.K. I’ve nearly finished,” I said.
     “I thought you were in here,” she giggled.  “I have a confession to make, Ken. I’m horny.”
     “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
     “Maybe.  But I’m horny.  Is there anything you can do to please a girl?”

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

The Look-out

The Look-out was published on Amazon Kindle yesterday.  It’s one of two stories I’ve written recently which are centered round sex in the office - I hope you like reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it

Here are the details:

Adults Only.  Warning: this story is for over-18s only and 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.

Pauline meets Jim at the annual company dance; after a little flirting they become horny and go to a derelict warehouse for some exploratory intimacy. Worried about getting caught by people wandering into the abandoned site, she asks Cosima - a co-worker - to come with them and stand as look-out while she has sex with Jim.  Cosima gets jealous and wants a slice of the action for herself, but Pauline is worried that she might steal Jim from her.  What hold does Cosima have on Jim?  And what happens when she starts to behave strangely, threatening to wreck the relationship between Pauline and Jim?  Is there any hope for their future together?  (10,000 words)

SAMPLE EXTRACT:

“Yes, I’ve heard about her job offer,” Andrew said when Pauline phoned him that evening.  “And I’ll be glad to have her off my back.”

“She hasn’t made up her mind to go yet.  When I asked her about it, she said that she wasn’t sure.  Apparently she’s met a guy and doesn’t want to leave him.”

“Well, this is news.  Then she won’t be pestering me again, whether she stays or goes.  This calls for a celebration, Pauline.”

“I thought for a minute that the guy she met might have been you.  She wouldn’t tell me his name.”

“No.  You can breathe easy there.  It’s not me.  And I would never lie to you, Pauline.  Can you hold on a minute?  I can hear the door bell.  It’s getting late, and I don’t know who’s calling at this time.  I’ll just check the security monitor….  What the hell?  It’s Cosima, standing on my doorstep.  Looks like she’s carrying a bottle of wine.  This is too much….”

“Has she ever done this before?” Pauline asked.

“She’s badgered me on the phone a few times, but I’ve usually hung up politely.  She’s never turned up on my doorstep before.  I’m not going to answer the door.”

“She knows you’re in there.”

“What do I tell her that’s going to make her go away?”

“Tell her you’re entertaining me.  I know it’s a lie.  But in a way you are entertaining me, over the phone.  Hang up, answer the door, and ring me straight back when she’s gone.”

Pauline put down her phone and waited for him to call.  After two minutes, she was still waiting.  Relax, she told herself.  Cosima’s just being difficult.  She switched on the television to watch the news broadcast.  After a while, she looked at her wristwatch; she reckoned that over five minutes had elapsed since she’d spoken to him.  She wanted to ring him back, to find out what had happened.  But, she reasoned, she would be no better than Cosima, who had pestered him so many times on the phone; he might think she, too, was being demanding or controlling.  She decided to go to bed.

As soon as she’d switched out the bedroom light and tried to get to sleep, she felt more awake than ever.  She couldn’t spend the night with this uncertainty racing through her mind; she got up, made herself another drink, and began to watch a late-night movie on television.  But the action couldn’t drag her mind away from Cosima, standing on Andrew’s doorstep with her bottle of wine.  After an hour - by which time she had to admit that she had yawned so many times and had lost interest in the movie - she decided to get back to bed.  And, within twenty minutes, she was sound asleep.

She had a dream.  She was back at the firm’s annual dance, and had stepped out with Andrew for a little intimacy; they returned to the deserted warehouse once more, where Cosima was waiting for them.

“I need to pee,” Cosima smiled.  “Do you want to watch me, Andrew?  I know how much you like to watch.”

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

The other story - Caught in the Act! - will be published in the next day or two.  Details will be available just as soon as it’s ready.

All the best!

Chris

twitter: @RachelCray1

email: pcw@restroom.net

Now Available: The Poor Nuns in Revolt

Hello again!

My latest story, The Poor Nuns in Revolt - a sequel to A Poor Nun's Endowment - has just been published on Amazon Kindle.  It will be available on Smashwords in a few days' time, and on Apple, Barnes & Noble Nook, and Kobo in a couple of weeks from now.

Here are some details to whet your appetite:

After Mary and David have made themselves at home in the deserted house they came across in A Poor Nun's Endowment, Mary is visited by an old friend from the priory.  All is not well with the community, after the visit of the Great Pestilence (the Black Death); the evil Benedicta has seized control and is now Mother Prioress.  Mary agrees to return to the priory for a week to see if she can influence Benedicta into easing the poor nuns into a gentler Rule.  But she hasn't reckoned for the priest, who has some deviant sexual habits and attempts to blackmail Mary into performing sexual acts to gratify his cravings once he discovers the unique endowment in her anatomy.  What strange hold does he have on Benedicta?  What can Mary achieve to bring about a happier way of life for the good nuns?

And here's a SAMPLE EXTRACT:

“Are you coming with us to dinner, Philomena?” Sister Angela asked her as they filed out of the church.

“Soon, sister.  And please call me Mary now.  I love you all, but I am not a member of your community.”

“Are leaving us again so soon?”

“No.  I’m staying a little longer.  I have a few private things I need to do before I depart.”

The nuns interpreted ‘private things’ to mean spiritual matters and didn’t care to invade her privacy. 

She was just about to enter the refectory when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  Turning round, she saw it was Clare; she looked solemn.

“There’s talk of your going away,” she said.  “I couldn’t bear it.  Not now.  We were so happy when you came back to us.” Clare led her a few steps past the refectory door so they could have privacy.

“I promised you I’d stay a week, dear Sister Clare.  I have my own man waiting for me at home, and a lot of tasks to be done on our land.”

“I know.  But, before we go to dinner, may I hold you?  May I hold your cock, just for a few moments?  It’s so comforting.  And you can put it inside me, if you like.  Just like you did last night.” There’s a dark recess along the cloister where we won’t be seen.”

“Not now.  It’s too risky.”

“When, then?”

Mary remembered that, now that the priest had gone, his bed in the vestry would be available.  “We can go in the church vestry tonight.”

“But the last time I came to see you, when the others had left, that old priest came and threw me out.”

“Don’t worry.  He won’t be there.”

“After Compline prayers?”

“Yes.  But not for too long.”

They went to the refectory for dinner and, afterwards, there was a short period of quiet time set aside for reflection.  Mary had decided that this would be an appropriate moment for her to call on Mother Prioress to tell her of the priest’s departure. 

But Clare detained her.  “Dear Mary, I couldn’t stop thinking about… about tonight.  I’m bursting now, and don’t think I could wait until tonight.  Couldn’t we go to the vestry now and… do what we were going to do after Compline?”

She had a soft spot for Sister Clare.  It wouldn’t do any harm, she supposed.  And then she’d go and see Benedicta about the priest.  They walked across to the church and entered the side door into the vestry.  Once inside, Clare lay down on the straw bed that they had used last night, and pulled up her habit ready for Mary to take her.

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

The first in this series,  A Poor Nun's Endowment, was very popular and if you enjoyed that story, I hope you'll enjoy this one too.  And, in the Epilogue, I've inserted a hint of two more stories still to come.  At the end of the book I've inserted the opening sections of other works with this theme - Dickgirl in the Dungeon and Dating a Dickgirl.

Until next time,

Best wishes,

Chris

cpw (at) restroom (dot) net

In Small, Intimate Rooms - an erotic short story

Hello again - and a Happy New Year to everyone!

I’ve just published my latest short story - In Small, Intimate Rooms - and I do hope you enjoy it.  Here’s a quick synopsis:

On a vacation in a remote area of Thailand, John meets an East European prostitute; she tells him of her unfortunate plight, and he feels sorry for her; he returns to her village the next day to find she has disappeared with a Danish guy.   Although John meets her again briefly on a business trip in Copenhagen the following year, he wonders if they will ever see each other again and rekindle the passion he had with her in her tiny room during their first encounter... 

Adults Only.  Warning: this story is for over-18s only and contain 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.

EXTRACT:

Before I had a chance to turn round, thank her and depart, she moved behind me and shut the door. She pulled up her skirt, revealing black stockings and garters; like the other girls I’d seen earlier, she had no underwear. “You do want to fuck me, don’t you?” she asked. “It’s cheap for you. Special offer. And you can come back for more tomorrow.”

I was tempted. But I’d heard a lot from other guys who’d got themselves all kinds of nasty diseases from these girls and I wasn’t prepared to risk my health.

She saw my hesitation. “So you don’t want to fuck, then? There are other things we can do. You want to come between my legs, maybe?”

“All right,” I said, and pulled my pants down to my knees.

“Why not take them right off? You want to pee, but can’t. But I want to pee. Then after you’ve come, you can pee too.”

She stood with her legs astride the toilet bowl, and beckoned me to come forward.

“Hold me tight.”

I obeyed, and felt her jump forward, her thighs wrapped round mine; her cheek rubbed against mine, and I smelt cheap perfume. Her heels pushed against the back of my knees; I took the entire weight of her body.

“Hold me still. I’m going to pee now.”

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

I’m busy writing a sequel to A Poor Nun’s Endowment and I hope to have that out soon.  Mary returns to the priory, where all hell has broken loose, and...  No, I mustn’t write any more here and spoil your enjoyment.

Keep smiling!

My best wishes to you for 2014,

Chris

email: cpw@restroom.net

The House Sitter

Hello again!

My latest title, The House Sitter, has just been published and is available for Amazon Kindle immediately.  I've been assured that editions for Apple (I-books) and Barnes & Noble (Nook) will be ready shortly.
This is the second in the new series Strangers for a Night, and here's a brief introduction:

A guy walks into Heather's office whom she hasn't seen for fifteen years; at the end of their business meeting, she invites him to lunch at her home, where she's house-sitting for a wealthy couple currently out of the country. Over the course of the afternoon they develop a sensual connection and enjoy sex games together. But when he takes her back to his hotel room to continue their romp, the prospect of a relationship suddenly comes crashing down....
And here's a sample extract:

     We were stretched out, fully-clothed, on my bed. We had our arms round each other and began kissing again. Soon I felt his hand fumbling up my skirt; I pulled up the front and he quickly found his way into my panties. His finger had no trouble finding my bud and he started stroking me.
     “I want to go down on you,” he whispered in my ear.
     Without answering, I pulled off my hose and underwear and pushed my skirt up to my waist; I rolled over on my back and opened my thighs. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a man’s tongue down there; I braced myself and thrust my crotch repeatedly at his mouth. I wanted my climax now. I couldn’t wait any longer.
     The boy next door whom I had once fancied was now a man and he was performing one of the most intimate acts on my body. The fact that he was a business client seemed to have no relevance to the occasion. I wanted him to do this. And, when I’d come, I’d want him to do it to me again.
     I felt his finger slowly poking its way up my anus; I hadn’t expected this. I’d never had this done to me before, and it heightened the sensation. My mind drifted and began fantasizing how it might feel with his cock up there.

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

I'm still waiting for my Muse to deliver the next story in this series - I have other projects in the pipeline and I'm hoping to have another title out before the Festive Season.

All the best
Chris

email : cpw (at) restroom (dot) net

New series: Strangers for a Night. #1: Ben's Blind Date

Hello again!

If it seems a while since I had anything to report here, it's because I've been busy in my alter-ego as Rachel Cray, writing two more novellas.  And now we're back to announce the start of a new series of erotic stories which I've called Strangers for a Night.  Just to clarify things, it has a theme running through the entire sequence: sex with a stranger.  But there will be other elements included in the stories which have become my stock-in-trade in the Waterlines series.

The first book in the Strangers for a Night series is called Ben's Blind Date, and is being published by Amazon as I write this.  For the first three months of its life, it will be exclusive to Amazon; depending on demand, I may distribute it to Apple and Barnes & Noble after the contract with Amazon has run its course.

A link to the Amazon page is in the right-hand column.  Here's a description to whet your appetite:

Ben is invited to a blind date with the sister of his brother's girlfriend.  A last-minute change of plan results in Ben going out with another girl - Norma, a temporary hire from the office who is almost a stranger.  It turns out that Norma has a voracious sexual appetite, partially hidden under a cloak of low self-esteem, and she possesses a gift through which she can express her passion for the erotic.
 
Thinking that he may be able to bring her out of her shell, he takes her out that night to a rendezvous where she emerges from her chrysalis and asserts herself in an activity that she enjoys.  Neither of them have had a first date like this before.  But the success of the experiment backfires for Ben....

SAMPLE EXTRACT:

“I’ll let you into a little secret,” she said, turning towards me and handing me my mug of coffee.  “You’re only the second guy I’ve ever had over my threshold in this apartment.”
“I don’t mean to be personal, but haven’t you had many boyfriends?”
Her jolly persona evaporated, and was replaced by that of a sad, lonely soul.  “Several of them take one look at me and turn their back within ten seconds.  Those that stay... well, perhaps I try too hard.  One of them openly admitted that he couldn’t keep up with me in bed.  He found me too demanding.  When we were in the restaurant, in the alley, and then at the movies, I got all the signals that we might click together.
“But now I’ve laid all my cards on the table.  Not very ladylike, am I?  I can’t be coy.  I know what I want, and I know that it’s not often available.  So I seize it with both hands when it comes along.  Just like I’ve dragged you in here tonight.  I have to tell you that there are times when I get so desperate that I’m tempted to pay for sex.  But I haven’t gone down that route so far.”
I sipped the coffee; it was too hot to drink, so I put it on a side table.  “Norma, you are probably one of the most candid women I’ve ever met.  And I’m not put off by your... your size.”  A memory of my erotic dream flashed before me.  “In fact, I think it turns me on.”
She climbed on top of me on the armchair and rammed her tongue into my mouth.  She pulled her head back and smiled.  “You darling man.  That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”  Then she kissed me again.
I was a little uncomfortable, trapped beneath her, and attempted to adjust myself; the back of my hand accidentally brushed up her skirt and against her crotch; her panties were soaking wet.  I moved my head away, and looked up at her.
“You noticed I’m horny again.”  She grinned.
“Perhaps you ought to take them off.  You’ll feel better.”
“I think I ought to show you my bedroom.”  She climbed off and beckoned me to follow her.

__________

That's all today.  Now to get on with #2 in this sex-with-strangers series; the working title is House Sitting, but this may change.  There's no telling what will happen if the characters seize control of the story and decide what they want to do...

Best

Chris

"Deflowered" has now been renamed "His First Time" in the Amazon Kindle list.

Hello again!

I've never had to put up two notices on this blog on the same day - and I hope I won't have to again.

I'm told that Amazon are reviewing all erotic romance and erotic titles right now, and they took exception to the title, cover illustration, meta data and description of Deflowered.

So I've renamed the Amazon edition His First Time and given it a shiny new (less provocative) cover illustration.  But, apart from the title page, every word in the book is exactly the same as it was in Deflowered.  Amazon are only concerned with the material in the "shop window", so to speak, just so long as the content doesn't cover prohibited subjects... which I wouldn't write about anyway.  But if watersports and golden showers hit the prohibited list in the near future, I'm in trouble!

Deflowered in its original cover is still available from Barnes & Noble and from Smashwords - although I don't want readers to get confused and buy both Deflowered and His First Time, thinking they're two separate stories.  So I'm speaking with Smashwords tomorrow to see if I should change the title in their list.

And if you click on the link to Deflowered in the right hand margin on this page, and find yourself on the old Amazon order page, that's because Amazon haven't changed it yet.  They take anything up to a day to change things.

Best wishes
Chrissie

 P.S. - Here are the two covers for comparison:

"Deflowered" - an update

Hello everyone!

It has just been drawn to my attention that Deflowered is being scrutinised by Amazon Kindle and is not currently available on any of the Amazon sites.  I have asked Amazon to clarify the problem, and I hope to have it up again soon.  This is a shame, because it's one of my more popular titles.

In the meantime, it's available at Smashwords at  http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/319280 (but you'll need a PayPal account to purchase it from them) or from Barnes & Noble at  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/deflowered-cp-waterman/1115457858?ean=2940044553408

A quick heads-up on other work: I'm around half-way through writing Waterlines 15 - I hope you'll enjoy it.  And I have some ideas for a new series which I want to start in November.  Watch this space!

A quick reminder - just in case you don't already know - I also write erotic romance as Rachel Cray - please visit my website here.

Until next time,
Best wishes - and thank you for your continued support!

Chris

A Poor Nun's Endowment - Author's Notes

Hello everyone!

My latest title is published today - A Poor Nun's Endowment. I've described it as an Erotic Dickgirl Fantasy but it has a medieval historical flavour. This is the third story in the dickgirl/futa/futinari theme and, unless I'm persuaded to write something else in this vein, it'll be the last. I have other stories - in other fetishes - that are lined up to be told!

Here's the storyline:

Mary is a country girl with a tomboy streak. When she reaches adulthood, and finds herself excluded from the company of the boys with whom she grew up, she rebels and her father consigns her to a convent. On the journey there, she is approached by an old crone and granted one wish; on an impulse, she makes a strange choice: she wants a penis, so she can be accepted in the young men's group. But fate consigns her to the priory, where Mary unwittingly falls under the spell of the evil Sister Benedicta, mistress of the novices; when Benedicta discovers Mary's anatomical transformation, she makes her her own private sex-pet and Mary finds herself installed as a hermitess, confined to a private cell... where only Benedicta can come and use her to fulfil her own sexual desires any time she wishes. Is there no escape?
A chance visit by a face from her lost past - and the simultaneous arrival of the Great Pestilence (The Black Death) - offer her the opportunity she needs. Will she grasp the moment with both hands? And what then, when the known world is turned upside down?

SAMPLE EXTRACT:

Mary sat on the end of her bed and allowed her tears to run freely. She heard a noise outside her door and realised the bar that confined her here was being raised; she assumed it was Sister Benedicta again and decided not to move; she would have to see the miserable state to which she had subjected her.
It wasn’t Benedicta. It was Clare and three other young nuns. “Dear Philomena, what has happened to you? Why are you so unhappy?”
She would tell them, she decided. To hell with the consequences. She tried to dry her eyes.
They sat on her bed next to her. “Come. You can tell us. We are your friends.”
“Close the door, and I’ll tell you. But this must remain private. Between the four of us here today.”
“All right,” Clare said.
“I have a secret. A terrible secret. Only Sister Benedicta knows of this, and she has been... taking advantage of it.”
“A secret?”
Mary stood up and turned to face them. She felt she was crossing a bridge; there could be no turning back now. What she showed them could not be forgotten. “Since I have arrived here, my body has changed. I am still a woman, just like all of you, but now I have... this....”
She pulled up the front of her habit; they gasped.
Clare was the first to speak. “I knew of a boy who had a fine voice and, before it broke, the monks had him castrated so that he would not lose the beautiful sound he created. Are you not really a boy like him?”
“When I first came here, most of you will have seen me naked when I was being prepared. The senior sisters would be sure to have noticed this when they undressed me.” She let the hem of her robe fall and she returned to her seat on the bed beside them.
“So how has Sister Benedicta been taking advantage of you?”
“How do you think?”
They gasped again. “Surely... surely not... that?”

-----------

Whilst writing, I have to tell you that I have a number of other projects planned for this site - it's all in my head, and the only problem is finding time to write everything down!

Until next time,

Best,

Chris

An Accommodating Landlady... and other erotic stories

Hello, Friends!

I am pleased to announce the publication of my first paperback, which is a collection of short stories previously published in various issues of the Waterlines series.  Together, they form the exploits of one of my characters - Colin Welby - who has to work for a short time in Oxford and takes lodgings with a Scottish landlady, Fiona.  The contents comprise:

An Accommodating Landlady
Colin is sent on a three-month assignment by his firm and lodges with Fiona, a lady whose husband works away from home. And, while husband's away, she reveals her unconventional sexual tastes, bringing new deviations to whet Colin's appetite... and making him wish he could stay longer. What could go wrong?

A Sexy Young Widow
Colin has to leave Fiona's house and goes to lodge with Pam, a lonely young widow, where he shares a number of sexual delights and a watersports fetish with his new landlady. Everything goes fine until a new lodger - a young woman - arrives. A changed atmosphere descends on the house, and Colin realises that his relationship with Pam can never be the same again. How can he extricate himself from this unhappy situation?

The Girl in the Room Next Door
Colin is back in the home of his previous landlady, Fiona; his pal Leslie wants to move out of her lodgings, and he asks Fiona if she can take her in. Colin soon has misgivings; while he enjoys sex games with Leslie, he soon realises why she can't keep a man. How is he going to extricate himself from this relationship?

A Special Offer
When Colin and Fiona meet again at an unlikely place - a men's toilet - she arranges to keep in touch with him, and to help him find a new girlfriend. Each of these girls have particular interests which coincide with Colin's own personal fetish. The first girl to whom she introduces him turns out to be quite bizarre... he's not sure that he wants to meet any more like her.

Watersports with WendyColin's old friend Fiona contacts him again to arrange a date with Wendy, another girl on her "watersports list". After some doubts about her, and some initial disappointments when they finally meet, the future could look rosy for them. But it turns out that she's a newbie to golden showers and he's got to get her to enjoy the fetish. And, in return, she shows him her special routine with her dining table....

The Coach Pot
Colin is at an auction and meets Leslie, his old flame from the days when he worked 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 book, An Accommodating Landlady, is priced at $7.95 and will be available from Amazon within the next two weeks.  Meantime, you can get it now from Createspace through this link:  https://www.createspace.com/4388917

I may make more stories available in paperback form if there is a demand.  Watch this space!

Finally, a heads-up on the next ebook to come from this stable:  it's the third and final story in the DickGirl series - and the working title is A Poor Nun's Endowment.  If you've already read DickGirl in the Dungeon, you may have already seized on a little clue I left there about this forthcoming fairy story.

Thank you all for your continued interest and support!

Until next time,
Best wishes,
Chissie

Dickgirl in the Dungeon - Medieval erotic fiction

Hello again!

I have just had my latest title back from the editor, approved for publication, and it's available now on Amazon Kindle.  The Smashwords edition comes out tomorrow.  Called Dickgirl in the Dungeon, it's a 21,000-word medieval prequel to Dating a Dickgirl.  If you've read Dating a Dickgirl, you'll know that Ashley refers to a legend about an ancestor of hers... and this is the story that led to the legend.  I have to tell you that I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it too.

Here's some general information:

England in the 1470s – a medieval prequel to "Dating a Dickgirl".  After young Lady Rosamund's two brothers die unexpectedly, the survival of the dynasty - and the ownership of the castle and estate - is put at risk. In order to perpetuate the family line, she is at the mercy of her uncle, the manipulative Abbot of Blackminster, who suggests a plan to hoodwink everyone into accepting Rosamund as Richard, her dead brother. She is forced to wear an artificial manhood under her codpiece, and marry an unsuspecting girl. The abbot makes careful arrangements to get her pregnant so that everyone thinks 'Richard' is the father.

Rosamund - thinking her family duty as 'Richard' is done, now that the next generation is secure - longs to live as a young woman again.  But it's not so simple. There's a civil war, and she's captured and held to ransom. Life is hell in her darkened cell: her keepers demand sexual gratification and when a wealthy French lesbian visits her, new possibilities open...

Can she ever return to a normal life again after this crazy turmoil?

EXTRACT:

Alison followed her new husband into the bedchamber; he climbed on to his side of the bed first, watching her servants undress her – as custom demanded for the first night – and present her nakedness to him.  He had taken off all his clothes, except his hose, and she noticed his proud erection poking forth from under his codpiece.  I may not have a pleasing countenance, she thought, but he is already excited by my body. 
She thought it strange when he appeared embarrassed that she had noticed; he covered the bedsheet over himself and fumbled underneath while he removed his hose.  Perhaps it is unseemly for him to reveal himself in front of my women, she considered.
When she climbed into bed beside him, under the sheet, he bid the women depart.  The door closed behind them and now he and she remained together in bed in darkness.
“I hope I might be able to offer you some pleasure, my dear wife,” he began.  “But, if I cannot at first, please be patient with me.  I have no experience in these matters.”
She had heard that Richard had been sickly for much of his life; the fact that they were both virgins gave her some comfort that they could take time to explore each other’s bodies together.  She kissed his cheek.  “We have a lifetime together, husband.  There is time enough for us to do everything necessary in the world.”
“I shall take you tonight, as is fitting.  But, after I have had you, I may retire to another bed; I do not sleep well in company.”
She was bewildered.  “Are we not to spend the whole night together?”
“No.  That may never be.  But I shall try my best to give you as many children as we need.  And, in case you are wondering, I keep no mistress... or any other lover.  I need to sleep alone every night.  That is the way I am.”
“Very well.”  She reached across and placed her hand on his shoulder to reassure him; it ventured down slowly over his chest and stomach. 
But, when her hand came within inches of his crotch, to touch his manhood, he gripped her wrist tight.  “Do not touch me there,” he snarled.  “Never touch me there.”
For the first time in many years, she felt terrified.
He must have detected her panic.  “Don’t be scared of me, wife.  We must have some rules.  I shall copulate with you nearly every night, except when it is not convenient to you.  But, afterwards, I shall withdraw from your bed and sleep elsewhere.  And you are never, ever, to touch me down there.”

There could be more Dickgirl stories on the horizon if the demand is there! 

Thank you all so much for your continued interest, support and suggestions.

Chris

"Just for Tonight"

Hello again everyone!

My latest, Just For Tonight, has just been published online.  After my most recent title (Dating a Dickgirl) overran its planned length, I had intended to keep this story to 10,000 words; I seem to have a problem when pulling in loquacious characters to act out a story; they just don't know when to be quiet and so the dialogue - and the story - run far longer than planned.  I carefully interviewed all the characters in this title before writing it, just to make sure they weren't going to talk on and on past the "The End" announcement on the final page.

The result?  I stopped almost 2,000 words short of my goal, at 8,100 words.  They'd already said everything they wanted, and there wasn't really anything else to write past that point.  But there might be a sequel, if my readers warm to these characters...

Here's the sales pitch:

Mike and Andrea each have rooms in a house; they are suddenly required to vacate their home during a police investigation.  Their landlady allocates them rooms in another house but, through a communications failure, they have to stay the night together in a garden shed.  During the night, they witness strangers performing lewd and fetish acts together on the lawn outside, which awakens their own passion for sex. But in the early hours of the morning, the police arrive and they find themselves thrown into separate prison cells. What have they done to deserve this? Will these two still be attracted to each other when everything has been resolved?

And here's an extract to whet your appetite - taken from midway through the story:

   “I don’t think I’ve ever got myself that drunk,” Andrea said.
   “Really?  And you’re a student?  Then you don’t mix in some of the student circles I’ve seen in town on a Saturday night.”
   “My parents gave me a strict upbringing.”
   “But you’re off the leash now.  There’s nobody here to report back to them.”
   “There is.  Becky, the other girl who lives in the house, is a close friend of my family and we take care of each other.  If she stepped out of line, I’d be expected to let her father know about it.”
   “But Becky’s not here tonight.  You can unwind.  I won’t say anything.”
   “Meaning?”
   “Meaning you can do as you please.  And I don’t have any alcohol or drugs hidden here, so there’s no stimulant or anything else that can lead you astray.  If there’s anything you’ve never done that you’ve wanted to do, you’ve got until Becky returns.  Just let yourself go.”
   We heard two loud voices, and looked out of the window.  We saw a man and a woman, probably in their thirties, and they were pretty obviously drunk... or they’d been taking drugs.  They were laughing - almost hysterically - and pulling at their jeans.  It soon became evident that they were going to take them off.  They seemed unconcerned; it was getting dark now anyway and, when they were half naked, we couldn’t discern exactly what they were doing.
   I noticed Andrea’s face was glued to the window.
   “Curious?” I asked.  “The torch is flickering - the batteries are failing.  There’s nothing else to do, so I’m taking an early night.”  I sat in the chair and covered myself in an old coat I’d found.  I closed my eyes.
   “It’s not a bad idea.  It’s nearly ten anyway.”  I heard her take off her clothes and climb into the sleeping bag.  She zipped it up, shutting me out from any perceived temptation.
   After five minutes of silence in the shed, I began to feel warm so I removed most of my clothes.  By the time I’d finished, I was down to my underpants, but I made sure that Andrea hadn’t noticed. 
   I returned to the chair seat, trying to get to sleep, trying to ignore the noise of the party-goers outside.
   Andrea was silent; I assumed she’d managed to doze.  After tossing and turning a couple of times, I must have got to sleep too because I remember waking up abruptly.  A light had been switched on, bathing the interior of the shed in a golden glow.  I opened my eyes; a mass of light was pouring through the window.  I got up to look, but found Andrea looking out already.
   “Look, Mike!" she called.  "They’ve turned on the lights round the lawn.  I won’t get back to sleep now.  And I’ve got a tutorial in the morning.  I have to be alert for that.”
   Ground lights had been placed round the border of the lawn, introducing a theatrical appearance to the activities of the guests who were now frolicking together - all naked - in some kind of drunken stupour. 
------------

I do hope you enjoy this story.  Another offering is scheduled early next month.

Best wishes
Chris

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