Category: Sandra Claire

My Black Master Protector

Adam has been Tyrone’s sub for a couple months now, and with every passing day, he’s living more and more into his submissive role. His Master provides him with everything he needs and gives him sexual pleasures Adam never thought possible. It’s certainly helping him survive jail. But not everyone is happy with the arrangement. Paco, one of the most dangerous men in prison, is determined to take Tyrone down a notch or two — and he plans to do that by claiming Adam as his. A violent confrontation turns into a struggle for domination over Adam and it’s complicated by a realization Adam recently had… that Tyrone, his Master, is falling in love with him.

Protected By My Black Master picks up after the events of Pleasing My Black Master.

Warning, this 8,300-word short story contains explicit sex scenes between a submissive twink and a dominating alpha male that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

We had just come back from the showers and my skin was still wet, making me feel chilly in the cool air of the prison cell. My skinny twink body didn’t hold much heat — especially since I was hairless and completely naked. I spread my legs about shoulder-width apart and placed my hands on the frame of the upper bunk, then took a deep breath.

I felt Master’s hands on me a second later. It was our regular morning inspection. He wanted to be sure that I — his submissive, his property — was clean, intact, and ready for sex at any given moment. His skin was rough, his fingertips calloused, but there were no other hands I wanted on my body.

The way he ran his hands up and down my back and sides, the way he pinched my nipples, cupped my balls, pressed his finger against my hole, gripped my dick ... it made me feel like I was completely and totally his possession. I lived to serve my Master and it made me pleased when he was happy with me. More than that, it made me horny when I knew Master liked what he saw. Already, my dick was swelling and growing hard, pointing straight out in front of me.

Master came closer to me, pressed his body against mine, and I felt his fat cock nestle in the crack of my ass. He felt massive, making me wonder, yet again, how I managed to take that sausage deep inside me every day. His skin was hotter than mine, warming me as he pressed his muscular chest against my slender back. His dark-skinned hands travelled up my chest and to my neck, and then he curved a couple fingers around my chin so they poked in my mouth.

I closed my lips around his fingers, suckling on them like they were a couple of cocks. It was nowhere near as good as the real thing, but just having any part of Master inside me, even simply his fingers, made me feel good.

He slipped his fingers out of my mouth and he gripped my shoulders, then suddenly spun me around. I almost lost my balance as I turned to face him, but his strong grip kept me standing upright. I looked up at him, into his dark and deep eyes, but while I saw a hint of emotion there — perhaps, love? No, not love — I also saw dominance. I was not to be making eye contact with Master. I quickly cast my gaze downward, looking instead at the scar that slid across his pec.

“You’re looking good, boy,” he said, his words barely more than a whisper.

“Thank you, Sir,” I said. It was an automatic reply, one that slipped out of my mouth without even having to think about it, but it was still one I felt deeply. I served my Master and I was grateful for it.

He pushed me down to the floor and I fell hard onto my knees. I managed to hold back a yelp at the sudden burst of pain — Master would not appreciate me making noise. I stabilized myself and waited for him to make the next move. His cock hung in front of my face. It was huge — thick and long — and my mouth was almost watering as I waited for the opportunity to taste it. But I couldn’t take that initiative. Yes, I knew I’d be sucking that meat soon, but I had to wait until Master gave me the privilege to do so.

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Pleasing My Black Master

Adam has been in prison for one week—and he’s been Tyrone’s submissive the entire time. But that week of submitting to this dominant man has awoken something deep inside Adam, a desire he never knew he had, a driving need to service as many men as possible. He’s seen the other men in the showers, knows what they’re packing, and he craves what he sees. Adam wants to live into his newfound urge for gay sex with as many men as possible. The only problem is that Tyrone would never allow it. Tyrone has always made it clear—Adam is his and his alone. But Adam no longer accepts that.

Pleasing My Black Master picks up after the events of Submitting to My Black Master.

WARNING: This 6,700-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a skinny white guy and several dominating men that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

“Good morning, white boy,” Tyrone whispered into my ear. He pressed a finger against my hole, testing its resistance. “You’re tight this morning, sub.”

With how tense my body was, I knew he wouldn’t be able to fit his massive dick into my ass — and I wasn’t about to loosen up. This would be the first time since coming here that I wouldn’t be able to give him sex when he demanded it.

“Tyrone,” I said, but before I could continue or roll over to look at him, he grabbed my ass hard and pressed his finger harder against my tight hole, slowly pushing past my resistance.

“I told you to call me ‘Sir.’ Don’t make me remind you.” His words were harsh and sharp, underscoring the threat implied by his tight grip on my ass.

“Sir...” I began again, accommodating his order, even if just for the moment. “We need to talk.”

Tyrone’s other arm, which had been folded under the pillow beneath our heads, quickly moved and his calloused hand grabbed the front of my throat — not dangerously, but with enough pressure to reassert his dominance.

“We don’t talk, boy. What happens is you shut the fuck up and enjoy my cock pounding your tight man-cunt. Got it?” I felt a spray of spittle across my cheek as he bit off his words.

“No,” I said. I grabbed the hand clasped around my throat and tugged at it — he resisted, but eventually let me pull it off. Despite all of Tyrone’s violent dominance, I knew there was a kind and decent man hidden under all the layers of bluster. But I would never tell anyone about that, because he’d surely kill me or at least leave me wishing that he’d kill me. He might have a soft center, but it didn’t mean he was a pushover.

I rolled over so I could look him in the eye, something I rarely did as his submissive. I saw defiance in his gaze, like he was about to rebuff anything I said and put me back in my place. But I also saw a small amount of fear there, like he knew what was coming and couldn’t find it in him to stop me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was starting to develop deeper feelings for me — but Tyrone didn’t do relationships, he just did sex.

“I’m no longer your submissive,” I said, deciding to just blurt it out.

“Yes, you are. Only I decide when this arrangement ends,” he said. He grabbed my cock, holding tight. I could see through his bluster; he was already hurting. It wasn’t obvious; most people wouldn’t be able to see it, but then, most people weren’t as close to Tyrone as I was.

“No, Tyrone,” I said, choosing to use his name again, instead of calling him “Sir.” I hoped it drove my point home. “I’m moving on. I will always show respect and deference to you, especially in public, but I’m moving on.”

“Why?” he asked. His grip on my cock loosened and his voice wavered on his one-word question.

I decided to be honest. “I want to have sex with other people. You’re an amazing fuck, but you’re also my first gay fuck. I’ve been eyeing the guys in the showers and I get so horny imagining what it would be like to suck them off or bottom for them. It’s not that I’ll never have sex with you again, but I just can’t be exclusive to you anymore.”

There was sadness in his eyes, but, if I was reading him right, I also saw acceptance. He let go of my cock and took his hand back. “Fine,” he said. “But don’t expect any protection from me. If someone beats you to a bloody pulp — if someone kills you — don’t expect me to stop him.”

The lights in the cell and in the rest of the facility flickered on to full brightness. In a few moments the cell door would unlock and slide open, allowing us to access the showers. And with that would be the next stage in my sexual awakening, when I could be the true bottom slut I knew I wanted to be.

“I know,” I said. “It’s a risk, but one I’m willing to take.”

“Fine,” he said. “You want to get fucked over by half the guys here and die, then so be it. Fuck you, Adam.” That was the first time he’d called me by name. Tyrone got off the bed and stood at the cell door, waiting for it to open.

I stared at his back and ass and legs — all of it was heavily muscled and a lot of it was decorated with tattoos and scars. Tyrone was an impressive mountain of a man, one that I desired immensely, but one that I couldn’t submit to any longer.

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University Sex Encounters Bundle

This hot and sweaty bundle collects all five of Sandra Claire’s university-themed erotica stories. Each scorching entry features university students doing what they do best — getting hot and sweaty and hooking up at any chance they can get.

Included in this volume are:
SEDUCED BY MY PROFESSOR: A college jock gets seduced by his MILF professor when he asks for extra help.
SPANKED BY THE NAUGHTY LIBRARIAN: When Dale returns his books late, he gets a spanking from the naughty librarian.
SORORITY SEDUCTION: Jessica wants nothing to do with her ex, Josh, until she encounters him in his underwear.
PLEASING MY PROFESSOR: Vanessa will do anything for an A — anything.
DOING MY TUTOR: Lisa has been lusting for her math tutor for months now — and today, she’s ready to finally make the moves on this shy, timid man!

WARNING: This 22,300-word short story collection contains multiple explicit sex scenes between lustful university students, dirty professors, football stars, sorority members, and more and will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

Kevin reached out and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Professor Cameron called. Her honey voice, with just a bit of a husky edge, always went straight to his groin. He nudged the door open so she could see him. She leaned back in her chair, her short skirt riding up her crossed legs. “Ah, Kevin, nice to see you. What can I do for you?”

“I’m having a little trouble with yesterday’s assignment. I was hoping to get a little help,” he said. He tried not to stare at her milky thigh. She pointed at the only other chair in her cramped office and he sat down opposite her.

She looked at him over her thick-rimmed glasses. Kevin couldn’t quash the fantasy that she looked like a naughty librarian, especially with those glasses, that skirt, and the tight white blouse she wore that barely contained her large breasts.

“That’s what I’m here for, Kevin.” She bit her lower lip. “I’d love to help you with anything you need.”

Is she coming on to me? No...fuck...why would she want a stupid first year student like me? Fantasies of Professor Cameron had fuelled many masturbation sessions over the past few weeks; and every time she so much as looked in his direction, his first thought was always that she was hitting on him.

But his runaway imagination didn’t explain why she squeezed her arms together just slightly, pushing her chest out. Her heavy, melon-sized tits strained at the fabric, the buttons holding her blouse closed nearly snapping off.

Kevin watched the gap at the center of her blouse—there was no sign of a bra underneath. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat, then forced himself to look up, to make eye contact.

“I’m glad you came in, Kevin. Your last quiz didn’t go so well, and it was basic anatomy.” She uncrossed her legs and parted them slightly, her dark skirt rising just a little higher. The skin of her inner thighs was smooth and shiny, drawing his eye up toward her crotch.

“Yeah, I just—I just don’t seem to get it that easily,” he said, voice cracking a couple times. It was difficult enough to concentrate on the subject matter when he was in Professor Cameron’s classroom, along with a hundred other people. But in the warm, cramped space of Cameron’s tiny office, concentration was just damn near impossible. Professor Cameron was like a wet dream come true. God knows how many times he’d jacked off to fantasies of her.

“What area are you struggling with right now?” she asked.

Kevin couldn’t stop the blush that heated his cheeks. He looked down at the papers clutched in his hand and then up at her again. “Um, the, uh...sex organs.” He put his papers down on the desk, to show her the diagram of a cross-section of the female reproductive system. “I’m, uh...unfamiliar with it and I’m struggling with memorizing it.”

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Doing My Tutor

Lisa has a burning lust for John, a math tutor, and has been faking difficulties in math for months now, just to get close to him. But every time she’s hit on him or dropped a hint that she liked him, he would always ignore it. John likes her, she was sure of it — it was just his morality keeping him away, his sense of the line between tutor and tutee. Lisa can’t wait any longer; she needs to seduce John today or she’ll go crazy with lust. It starts with laying her hand on his leg while they’re in the secluded back area of the library, and soon heats up when John responds in a way that confirms for her she’s been right all along.

WARNING: This 4,800-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a student and her tutor that will leave you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

I had to make my move now — a move that neither of us could back down from. I either needed to get fucked right here and right now, or I needed to end this and go home and get off with a vibrator. While he continued to examine my answers and studiously avoid looking at me, I half-undid the button on my shirt — the one button that was holding everything in place.

“It looks like you’re getting this,” he said. His voice quivered a bit — god, he needed this as bad as I did, he just had to act on it. He finally turned toward me again and looked me in the eye. I watched as a bead of sweat gathered at his hairline and rolled down his temple. This boy had it bad. “I think you could do this step a little cleaner,” he added, pointing at a problem I deliberately messed up on, just to give us something to talk about.

“Oh?” I asked. I turned my upper body toward him and, just as I’d hoped, that crucial button popped free and my breasts fell out. “Oh my God!” I said in an urgent whisper. “I’m so sorry!”

I scooped up my breasts and put them back in my shirt. But I had won — his eyes locked onto my boobs and focussed on my nipples. His face went beet red when he realized I’d caught him staring.

“Maybe we should, uh,” John said, fumbling for words. He shoved my papers back in front of me and reached below the table for his backpack.

I put my hand on his hairy thigh and he froze. “Don’t leave,” I begged. I leaned toward him, to the point where my breasts almost fell out of my shirt again — and, fuck yes, his eyes were locked on my cleavage. “I still need some ... one on one with you ... we need to penetrate this homework assignment, really go deep...” I moved my hand further up his thigh, the hair beneath my fingers becoming coarse and thick. “I need you to help me...”

He looked around nervously, eyes scanning the room. “I, uh, I...”

I didn’t bother looking around, ensuring we were alone; it didn’t matter to me. Besides, if he’d spotted someone, I would’ve seen the panic in his eyes. I leaned in closer, bringing my lips to his ear, and slipped my fingers up the leg of his shorts, to the warm bulge that lay just a few inches away. My fingertips brushed against his long, hard cock, contained by a thin layer of cotton, and he jolted. Heat rose within me at that briefest of touches — John was much thicker and longer than I had thought he’d be.

“Stop hesitating,” I whispered into his ear, hot and heavy. “Touch me.”

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Pleasing My Professor

Vanessa got a C on her university paper and is desperate to get it bumped up to an A. She hatches the perfect plan — seduce Dr. Barnes and give him what he wants in return for a better mark. After all, Dr. Barnes has a reputation for sleeping with students for this very purpose. But to bump up from a C to an A requires more than just quick and simple sex.  No, to get an A, Dr. Barnes has something else in mind for Vanessa.

WARNING: This 4,800-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a student and her older university professor that will leave you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

I set my backpack and purse down on the floor and I sat in the chair facing him. “I’ve got my paper in here,” I said, leaning forward to dig it out of my bag. My breasts nearly popped out of my shirt. I resisted the temptation to look up at Dr. Barnes, but I was sure he was staring down my shirt.

When I grabbed my paper and sat upright again, I saw the guilty shift in Dr. Barnes’s eyes. Yeah, he’d been staring. I edged forward in my chair, so just the edge of my ass was on it, and crossed my legs, letting my skirt rise even higher. I’d gone without panties today and I hoped it was noticeable from where he sat. I would’ve gone without a bra, too, but this one does amazing things to my rack.

I looked Dr. Barnes over as I handed him my paper and he quickly scanned through it. Could I fuck him? He was maybe in his forties, quite fit, had a full head of hair without a single gray. He was a hot daddy-type. I felt my pussy suddenly become a bit wet — maybe I wanted this more than I realized. When planning this, I’d expected to have to put up with it, but if the heat building in me was any indication, I might actually want this as much as him.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “I remember your paper. You had a great opening argument, but your supporting evidence was a bit forced and your conclusion more or less fell flat.” He looked up at me, his eyes never rising higher than my chest.

“Is there ... anything I can do ... to improve my grade?” I asked, pausing every few words, doing my best to sound seductive.

“We might ... we might be able to come to some sort of arrangement.” He finally looked up at my eyes. “Depends how much work you put into it. You could ... rewrite it this weekend and send it to me on Monday morning.” By the offhand manner in which he said that, and the way he waved his hand dismissively, I could tell he didn’t want us to take that option. No, he wanted a different kind of arrangement, but I could also sense some nervousness in him, like he wanted to be sure we were on the same page before he made his move.

“I was,” I said, pausing and running my fingers down the V of my shirt, stopping where it dove between my breasts, “hoping for an alternate arrangement.”

Dr. Barnes sat back in his chair and spread his legs. His bulge was noticeable — huge and hard. “What kind of arrangements did you have in mind.”

I let my hand fall from my shirt to the hem of my skirt. I nudged it up my thigh even more as I uncrossed my legs. The cool air of the office brushed between my legs, kissing me tenderly. “I’m sure we can think of something.”

He groped himself. “The final question, is how high do you want your grade to jump? Because if you want an A or an A+, we’re going to have to come to some sort of ... deep understanding.”

I groaned seductively and let my head fall back a bit, exposing my neck to him, as I ran my fingers across my mound. “I need an A ... and I’m willing to do anything to get it...”

When I heard the zip of Dr. Barnes’s fly, I brought my head back up and watched as he reached into his pants and pulled out his long, thick cock. It was so much bigger than my ex-boyfriend’s.

I licked my lips as I stood up and came around to his side of the desk. I fell to my knees in front of him and wrapped my fingers around his shaft — it was hard and very warm, throbbing in my grip. I looked up at him and bit my lower lip, a look I’ve seduced men with before.

“I want that A,” I said, gently stroking up and down his shaft.

“Then you better start sucking,” he said.

I opened my mouth and took the crown of his dick in me. It tasted clean and his skin was velvety-soft. Slowly, I sunk my face down on it, taking it deeper in my mouth, until it brushed against the back of my throat. I bobbed my head up and down, moaning into his dick.

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Forced Encounters

This hot and sweaty bundle collects all six of Sandra Claire’s gay erotica stories. Each throbbing story features a randy young man who gets himself into a dangerous situation — a situation that quickly evolves into the most mind-blowing gay sex these young men have ever experienced.

Included in this volume are:
FORCED SUBMISSION: Matty finally understands why Scott has bullied and picked on him his whole life.
FORCED ENTRY: Desperate for money, Dylan makes the wrong choice when he breaks into a gay dom’s house.
FORCED TO TAKE IT: Christian risks it all to hit on the straight cowboy at the country bar.
FORCED IN PUBLIC: A flight to Australia lands Kyle in the Mile High Club with two older men. *** This story is banned on Amazon and is not included in the bundle on Amazon. If you want to read this story, please purchase this book on any other site. ***
TAKEN BY FORCE: Caught buying weed, Craig will do anything if the cop will let him off with just a warning.
FORCED BY MY COACH: Coach Brown has had enough of Kevin and his disrespectful attitude, and tonight he’s going to get exactly what he’s been craving.

WARNING: This 28,000-word short story collection contains multiple explicit sex scenes between dominant Alpha men and the submissive men who live to serve them and will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

Matty grabbed his backpack and shoved his papers into it, then stacked up the books he still needed to go through. He looked up at the other table again and found it empty. Scott’s stuff was still there, but the man was not. Matty gasped and frantically looked around—was the beat-down coming?

“Dude,” Scott said from behind him.

Matty whipped around, the table and chair clattering loudly in the funereal library. He glanced around, hoping the sudden noise had caught the attention of another student, or maybe Jennifer, but no one was there. It was just Matty and Scott, surrounded by books, on the attic-like third floor of the library.

Matty looked up at Scott, taking in his incredible body, framed by slim jeans and a tight shirt, until he finally met the man’s eyes.

“Yeah?” Matty said, voice quivering.

Scott still had an intense look on his face, but it didn’t seem to be all rage and hatred anymore. Matty couldn’t figure it out, but it still terrified him.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, is he going to kill me?

Scott leaned forward and Matty leaned back—so far that the edge of the table jabbed into his back and he still kept folding himself back as far as he could go. Scott still moved closer. Matty could smell the man—a heady mix of his deodorant and personal musk. And a strong whiff of that made him lightheaded, but only for a moment. Finally, Matty couldn’t lean back any further, yet Scott still pressed on.

Soon, their bodies were touching, Scott’s thick chest pressed against Matty’s lean, twink body. And then Scott’s lips brushed Matty’s ear. Like a live wire, Matty felt a jolt, a shock from the touch. His body jumped, bumping harder against Scott’s solid form.

And then Scott stopped leaning forward. He whispered, “Why the fuck do you have to do this to me, you little shit?”

That felt like the precursor to a beating. Matty squirmed, trying to get away, but he was caged in by Scott’s chest and his massive arms, bracing the table on either side of Matty. He panicked, his heart racing and his mind going just as fast, but pushing through that was his erotic imagination—he was entrapped by this hunk, this bad-ass bully. What if...what if Scott were to kiss him?

Matty shook his head, trying to knock that absurd thought out. Not only did Scott hate Matty with every fibre of his being, but the man was also straight. Matty almost never saw him without a girl under his arm.

“What are you shaking your head for?” Scott said, still whispering in Matty’s ear. His breath was hot, making Matty’s ear moist. “Are you saying you don’t want this?”

“Wh—what? Want what?” Am I being asked if I want a beating?

“Don’t you fags want any cock you can get?”

Matty turned his head, almost bashing his nose against Scott’s. “What?”

Scott stared at him, his gaze travelling down Matty’s face until it rested on his lips. Now he knew what that other intense emotion was—he could see it now. Lust. Scott was fucking lusting for him.

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Forced By My Coach

Coach Brown has had enough of Kevin, the disrespectful and undisciplined hockey player who’s also the son of a major donor to the university. As much as he wants to get rid of Kevin, he can’t. After a night of running Kevin through a series of punishing drills, he overhears the younger man trash-talking him in the showers. All of Coach Brown’s self-control vanishes as he storms into the shower and confronts Kevin — he’s off the team unless he gives Coach Brown a real good reason not to.

WARNING: This 4,400-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a dominating older coach and his younger athlete that will leave you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

Coach narrowed his eyes and let his dominating side take over. Even though his heart was pounding against his ribs, Coach stood his ground and showed Kevin he meant business. Coach grabbed his cock and shook it, the head of it rubbing against Kevin’s hip.

“I’m deadly serious, punk. Suck my cock or you’re off my team.” He considered pushing Kevin to his knees and forcing his cock in the jock’s mouth, but this domination would be all the more sweeter if Kevin would willingly submit.

But Kevin’s cheeks blazed red with anger and his eyes continued to glare threateningly. His lips, though, trembled. And Coach felt something brush against his thigh — he looked down and saw Kevin’s cock swell and rise and grow thick and hard. This turns him on, Coach realized.

Coach held his ground and crossed his arms over his thick chest. He clenched his jaw, growing angry at this reluctant submissive’s disobedience. “I said,” Coach repeated, “suck my cock.”

Then Kevin fell to his knees. Coach watched him, stunned, even though he somehow knew Kevin would comply. I won... Coach realized, but then all thoughts fled from his mind as soon as the jock’s hot, wet, tight mouth closed down over Coach’s cock.

The punk’s lips slid up and down his shaft, not quite reaching the base, and his tongue massaged every square inch of skin. Kevin grabbed the base of Coach’s shaft to stroke the parts he couldn’t fit in his mouth. He bobbed his head back and forth with exuberance — with far more enthusiasm than someone who didn’t want this.

He’s a fag, Coach realized. He’s gay like me and he’s enjoying this. And suddenly everything fell into place — the antagonism from Kevin, the infuriating confrontations, it now had a recognizable pattern. Kevin was horny for Coach — had been right from the start — and the disobedience was his way of dealing with it. More to the point — it wasn’t me that forced him to suck me off — he forced me into this confrontation. Not only was his career safe, but his conscience was also clear.

Kevin moaned as he sucked, the vibrations thrumming through Coach’s cock and up into his pelvis. Coach shuddered and his knees buckled, but he put his hand against the wall and stopped himself from falling on top of Kevin. He was now fully under the spray of the showerhead. The hot, steamy water massaged his skin and cascaded down him, sending pleasure through all his nerve endings, only adding to the eroticism that consumed his body.

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Taken By Force

Craig is a law student at a Christian university and a steady, long-term girlfriend. He also has a secret drug addiction, and when he gets caught buying weed, he can see his life crashing down around him. The cop that catches him is hard, cruel, and unyielding, and won’t let Craig off with a simple warning. Desperate, Craig makes one final plea, falling to his knees.

WARNING: This 4,600-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a dominating older cop and a submissive younger man that will leave you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

“ID,” the cop said, his low voice rumbling through me again.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet, then slipped my drivers license out of its holder. I passed it to him and his fingers brushed against mine — was that intentional? It felt intentional.

Calm down! I’m not gay, I told myself again. What the fuck was going on in my head and in my pants?

“Craig James,” he said, reading my name aloud. Hearing him say my name like that sent a new shiver through me. He looked at me, as if comparing my ID photo to the real deal, then he put my ID in his pocket and opened the flap of a leather holder on his belt. The gleam of the streetlight glancing off metal handcuffs shone brightly.

Fuck, fuck, fuck — this wasn’t happening! I couldn’t get arrested!

“Please, sir, please, can I explain?” I begged.

“Hands against the wall,” he said. He was no-nonsense, all business.

“Sir, please, let me just explain. I wasn’t—”

“Hands against the fucking wall, kid!” A vein stood out on his forehead and his face immediately got red.

Chastised, I put my hands against the wall and prayed to God that I would get out of this. I couldn’t call my parents to get me out of jail — they’d freak. And I certainly couldn’t call my girlfriend — she was so uptight that she’d dump me over the phone for getting arrested and then probably inform the college about it and the reason why. That left maybe my roommate. But he couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut and this would spread like wildfire through campus, eventually reaching my girlfriend and the dean.

The cop came up behind me and kicked my feet so that I spread my legs. He put his strong, broad hands on me, patting me down from head to toe along the outside of my body. When he reached my feet, he stood up again and patted my back and ass; I flinched from his hands on my ass, for some reason reacting to him touching there. Then he reached around me and — oh, fuck — I felt his hard cock press against my ass as he patted my chest, and I was nowhere near as disgusted as I should have been with his dick on my butt. I forced that thought out of my mind, choosing not to think on it. His hands continued roaming down, searching for weapons or drugs. Eventually, his hands landed on my hard cock, sending a weird jolt of pleasure through me. He seemed to grope me a bit, feeling around and making sure it was all me and not a gun or something, then he moved down, patting the front of my legs and between them, coming back up to my crotch and feeling my sack.

Fuck, why did this feel so good?

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Cougar Encounters

This hot and seductive bundle collects all five of Sandra Claire’s cougar stories. Each raunchy story follows the sexy romps of older women on the prowl for masculine and muscular younger men and shows that mature women are really what those young jocks crave.

Included in this volume are:
COUGAR ON THE PROWL: Single mom Susan is lusting after her son’s best friend and decides to embark on a risky plan to seduce the younger man.
COUGAR IN HEAT: Jesse expects his friend’s mom, Melissa, to be a buzzkill when she joins him and the guys on a ski trip, acting as a chaperone. But then she shows up naked in the sauna.
COUGAR ON PATROL: Stuck in a dead-end job and eternally single, Rachel risks it all in pursuit of the young man who’s working late in the office.
COUGAR’S CATCH: Nancy’s car breaks down on a lonely highway. When the hot young tow truck driver shows up to the rescue, her already-high libido kicks into overdrive.
COUGAR ON THE HUNT: Julian’s heard all the rumors about naughty Samantha, the cougar who works out at the college gym. Tonight, he discovers the rumors are true.

WARNING: This 21,000-word short story collection contains multiple explicit sex scenes between younger men and the mature women who crave them and will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

He started up the truck and we put on our seatbelts. The radio came on and quietly played a country song. He put his left hand on the steering wheel, shifted into drive, and then put his right arm over the top of the seats, casually turning toward me as he drove. I could see his armpit hair through the sleeve of his shirt—there was nothing hotter than a hairy man.

“I’m Bobby,” he said, “I should’ve introduced myself earlier.”

“I’m Nancy. Thanks again for coming to my rescue.” I tried to force my gaze onto the road as we drove, but instead I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, off his strong neck and shoulders, the compact muscle beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, and, if I wasn’t imagining things, the bulge at the fly of his jeans.

“Ain’t no trouble. Especially for a pretty woman like you,” he said.

I felt my cheeks grow hot with a blush. I tried to hide it by giggling and holding a hand in front of my face, but I think he knew exactly what was going on. He smiled at me and looked at the road. I let my hands fall in my lap and my damn horniness took hold—I started pressing the heel of my palm against my crotch, pushing against my pussy through my skirt, hoping to give myself just enough satisfaction until I was home and could break out the vibrator.

Bobby took his arm off the top of the seats and let his hand fall in his lap, pressing his hand against his bulge. It felt like the world slowed down as I watched him, almost in utter disbelief that this was happening. Me, a mature woman, masturbating in the car with some young hunk I didn’t even know.

But Bobby reminded me so much of Todd that my mind just wasn’t working properly. I watched Bobby and decided that he was at least ten times hotter than Todd. But I knew I was just so horny that even if there wasn’t that resemblance to Todd, I’d still be careening down this path.

I looked down at his bulge—which he was still massaging—and found it had grown considerably. Bobby had to be huge down there.

I knew I shouldn’t go forward with this, but I just needed sex so badly and Bobby seemed to want it, too. Even if this just ended in me giving him a little road head, it might be enough to sate my desires until I could properly take care of myself.

He slipped his hand under the waist of his jeans and groped himself. I lifted my skirt up to my hips, exposing my black lace panties to him, and slipped my fingers under my underwear. I ran my fingers along the length of my folds, my fingers already wet from my moist pussy.

The truck jerked a bit as he tried to straighten his driving, but his eyes were almost entirely on me. I’ve never felt so emboldened, so brazen. I grabbed my skirt and panties and pulled them down to my ankles, and then kicked them off. I bit my lip nervously and sat back in the seat, waiting to see what Bobby would say or do.

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Cougar’s Catch

After a disastrous first date, Nancy can’t wait to get home and release the tension that’s built up all day, but when she takes a lonely, quiet road back to Denver, her car breaks down. Cursing herself for her rotten luck, she calls a tow truck and is more than a little surprised when the truck driver, Bobby, is a handsome young man that reminds Nancy of her first husband. With her libido charged from a date that went nowhere, Nancy can’t help but flirt with Bobby a little, to ease some of the lust building in her. Bobby, though, flirts back and things soon heat up in the cab of the tow truck, turning this rotten day into one Nancy will never forget.

WARNING: This 4,100-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a young man and a MILF that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

He started up the truck and we put on our seatbelts. The radio came on and quietly played a country song. He put his left hand on the steering wheel, shifted into drive, and then put his right arm over the top of the seats, casually turning toward me as he drove. I could see his armpit hair through the sleeve of his shirt—there was nothing hotter than a hairy man.

“I’m Bobby,” he said, “I should’ve introduced myself earlier.”

“I’m Nancy. Thanks again for coming to my rescue.” I tried to force my gaze onto the road as we drove, but instead I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, off his strong neck and shoulders, the compact muscle beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, and, if I wasn’t imagining things, the bulge at the fly of his jeans.

“Ain’t no trouble. Especially for a pretty woman like you,” he said.

I felt my cheeks grow hot with a blush. I tried to hide it by giggling and holding a hand in front of my face, but I think he knew exactly what was going on. He smiled at me and looked at the road. I let my hands fall in my lap and my damn horniness took hold—I started pressing the heel of my palm against my crotch, pushing against my pussy through my skirt, hoping to give myself just enough satisfaction until I was home and could break out the vibrator.

Bobby took his arm off the top of the seats and let his hand fall in his lap, pressing his hand against his bulge. It felt like the world slowed down as I watched him, almost in utter disbelief that this was happening. Me, a mature woman, masturbating in the car with some young hunk I didn’t even know.

But Bobby reminded me so much of Todd that my mind just wasn’t working properly. I watched Bobby and decided that he was at least ten times hotter than Todd. But I knew I was just so horny that even if there wasn’t that resemblance to Todd, I’d still be careening down this path.

I looked down at his bulge—which he was still massaging—and found it had grown considerably. Bobby had to be huge down there.

I knew I shouldn’t go forward with this, but I just needed sex so badly and Bobby seemed to want it, too. Even if this just ended in me giving him a little road head, it might be enough to sate my desires until I could properly take care of myself.

He slipped his hand under the waist of his jeans and groped himself. I lifted my skirt up to my hips, exposing my black lace panties to him, and slipped my fingers under my underwear. I ran my fingers along the length of my folds, my fingers already wet from my moist pussy.

The truck jerked a bit as he tried to straighten his driving, but his eyes were almost entirely on me. I’ve never felt so emboldened, so brazen. I grabbed my skirt and panties and pulled them down to my ankles, and then kicked them off. I bit my lip nervously and sat back in the seat, waiting to see what Bobby would say or do.

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