Incest Style: Taboo Erotica E-Book

Honey Silverberg

• Herausgeber: Vintage Pulp Publishing
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

Warning: This is a VERY taboo, vintage, hard-boiled full length (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel. This is bad stuff. Both bad meaning bad and bad meaning *good*. The story is so crazy, we can't even give a proper description.

*****
Lydia Phillips had called her husband, the manager of a large supermarket in East Orange, at work and told him to" get his ass home immediately. "She had just received a letter from Jerri.
They hadn't realized Jerri had disappeared until just the day before when a gossip column editor from one of the New York newspapers called to ask if they had heard from Jerri. They were shocked to find that their daughter was missing from the city. Where had she gone? What was she doing? Was she abducted? Hardly, Lydia figured, since her daughter had been able to sell all her things and buy a car.
In any case, Lydia and Ray were worried. They told their son Dave to go to New York and try his best to find out what happened to his sister and where she was. He was in the city when the letter arrived.
Ray Phillips, a slightly balding man of fifty-three, entered the front door of his house only to find his wife pacing the length of the living room. Lydia Phillips was a large woman, younger by five years than her husband, who was given either to yelling or crying in an upsetting situation.
"SHE'S IN NEW MEXICO!" Lydia screamed as Ray walked into the room. "She's a HIPPIE! My daughter, a HIPPIE!" And she burst into tears and sat in a chair.

Leseprobe

Incest Style

Honey Silverberg

Copyright © 2017

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 1

The door to the apartment slammed.

"Jerri, is that you?" a voice from the kitchen called.

"It's me," Jerri called, heading toward the kitchen.

Carol, her roommate, was making dinner. Jerri walked to the counter and took a piece of lettuce from the salad Carol was tossing.

"Hey, no snitching. We'll eat in about ten minutes," Carol said pleasantly.

"Okay," Jerry said, walking back into the living room. Carol thought it odd that Jerri didn't sit in the kitchen to talk to her. She figured Jerri had had a bad day.

Jerri sat on the couch and lit a cigarette. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to relax, but she couldn't. She kicked off her shoes and lifted her feet to the couch, then smoothed out her fashionable midi skirt.

"I've had it!" she called to the kitchen.

There was no reply. Carol had heard it all before. Jerri had been threatening to quit the modeling business for months now, but it had never gone beyond that. Carol figured she would continue to threaten, but never do anything about it.

Jerri began to relax. She crossed her arms over her shapely breasts, winch were dearly visible through the tight, form-fitting sweater she was wearing. She closed her eyes and dozed off as Carol set the table for dinner.

Jerri Phillips was one of those lucky ones the modeling business" finds" every yearthe new shape, the new look, the new styleand gives all its attention to. In a matter of months, Jerri had gone from doing fashion shows at Bloomingdales to the cover of every influential women's magazine in the country. She wasshe hated the word, but it was the only correct one-a star.