Taboo Incest Fun Time: Taboo Erotica E-Book

Corine Burton

• 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.

*****

He's going to fuck me!
Christine watched him come around the end of the sofa from the wet bar with the pair of drinks and knew in her mind that it was going to happen.
She felt her heart pound. She felt a thrill begin tingling through her belly, making her pussy-tunnel squirm warmly in a way it hadn't for nearly three years.
"Here, Mrs. Eglund--try this and see if it doesn't call forth faraway places and sugar-sand beaches under whispering palms for you and me."
He smiled handsomely and sat beside her. She looked into the glass and squeezed her thighs together to try to stop the quick, shameless bloating of her trembling cunt-lips.
"All that from one daiquiri?" she laughed softly, trying to sound flippant and sure of herself.
His hip slid against hers and made her catch her breath. He watched closely as she sipped the drink. She felt like jelly under his gaze. After all this time, it was a frightening feeling, and it made her wish he were Carl.
But he wasn't Carl. It wasn't three years ago, when she'd been deliriously happy, when Carl had sat beside her on this same sofa after Robin was asleep and she had pulled him down against her uplifted hips and drawn his prick deep into her quivering cunt.

Leseprobe

Taboo Incest Fun Time

Corine Burton

Copyright © 2017

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER ONE

Christine watched him come around the end of the sofa from the wet bar with the pair of drinks and knew in her mind that it was going to happen.

She felt her heart pound. She felt a thrill begin tingling through her belly, making her pussy-tunnel squirm warmly in a way it hadn't for nearly three years.

"Here, Mrs. Eglund--try this and see if it doesn't call forth faraway places and sugar-sand beaches under whispering palms for you and me."

He smiled handsomely and sat beside her. She looked into the glass and squeezed her thighs together to try to stop the quick, shameless bloating of her trembling cunt-lips.

"All that from one daiquiri?" she laughed softly, trying to sound flippant and sure of herself.

His hip slid against hers and made her catch her breath. He watched closely as she sipped the drink. She felt like jelly under his gaze. After all this time, it was a frightening feeling, and it made her wish he were Carl.

But he wasn't Carl. It wasn't three years ago, when she'd been deliriously happy, when Carl had sat beside her on this same sofa after Robin was asleep and she had pulled him down against her uplifted hips and drawn his prick deep into her quivering cunt.

Those nights were gone forever. It was the same sofa, the same balmy, tangy breeze coming in through the porch from the Gulf, the same feeling of softness and warmth and expectancy. But he wasn't the same man, whose prick had driven firmly into her succulent cunt until she'd whimpered and surged upward into orgasm.