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Author: indieerotica

Pleasing My Professor

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

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.

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.

Dad Took My Virginity (Dad Son Sex Secrets #2)

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

Darren finally works up the courage to explore his gay side and enter the bathhouse. He’s determined to have his first gay sex experience today, no matter what. Walking around in just a towel, he gets nervous and self-conscious, until he finds the pitch-black maze, where he can wander in total darkness, bumping into random men. And it’s in that maze that he finally falls to his knees and does what he’s been aching to do for years. But during a brief moment of speaking, Darren is shocked and horrified to learn that the man he’s servicing is his father — his straight, married father. However, once that line’s been crossed, it’s so tempting to go even further.

5,200-word short story

Some sort of cockslut mentality took over me and I sucked on that cock like it was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted — and, really, it was. I wrapped a hand around the base and fondled his balls with my other hand. I loved the taste and feel of this man’s flesh, the way it was tinged with the salt of sweat, the way it was both hard and just a little soft. And the fact that I was in the dark and didn’t even know who this guy was and would never find out made me so fucking horny myself.

He put his hands on my head, wide and masculine, they combed through my hair as he let out a gasp as I continued sucking him. I released his balls and instead moved that hand down my abs to where the towel was tightly cinched around my waist. With a quick flick of my finger, the towel fell to the floor around me and I grasped my own meat in my hand, stroking in time to the rhythm I had going with my mouth.

He seemed to be enjoying it almost as much as me. He started bucking his hips, fucking my mouth, and I absolutely loved it. I felt an immense feeling of satisfaction and completion by totally pleasing this man — not only was I a cockslut, but maybe I was a bit submissive, too.

I gasped and let the man’s cock out of my mouth when I felt a shin bump into my ass.

“Sorry,” a masculine voice behind me muttered, quickly shuffling off.

“No problem, bud,” said the man I was sucking.

A deep and instant chill struck my core. The guy I was sucking off ... his voice was so familiar. It was a voice I knew far too well, a voice I heard everyday. But it couldn’t be ... it couldn’t be my father.

It was one of those voices I just knew — the richness of it, the cadence, the phrasing. It was all exactly like my father. But this ... this wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. He was married to my mother — he was straight. And faithful.

“Keep going,” the man urged me, still sounding exactly like my father.

This was too weird. If he was my father, I needed to get the fuck out of here and try to figure out how to forget the whole thing. And if he wasn’t my father, it was still just too creepy, and I still needed to get out of here and go home and forget it all.

I grabbed my towel and didn’t even bother wrapping it around me. I ran my hand along the wall and hurried through the maze, desperate to find the exit so I could just run back to the lockers and get dressed.

“Wait,” he called after me. I heard footsteps, like he was trying to follow me.

I wanted to tell him to leave me alone, but if it was my dad, I didn’t want him to recognize my voice. It was bad enough that I knew what was happening — I didn’t want him to go through the same torment. Finally, as I turned one last corner, I could see light up ahead, enough light for me to let go of the wall and jog out of the maze.

“Darren?”

I stopped cold in my tracks. That confirmed it. Fuck.

I hung my head and turned around, quickly tying my towel around me when I realized I was naked. My dad walked up to me, towel dangling in his hand. I looked up at him, taking in a full look of his naked body — he was muscular, tanned, and very hairy, and his cock was just as long and thick as I’d thought in the dark. My mouth watered as I gazed at his cock, and that disturbed me, but also turned me on.

I sucked my father. How many guys could say that.

Forced Encounters

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

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.

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.

Spanking My Naughty Boy (Dad Son Sex Secrets #1)

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

Mark is still grieving from the death of his wife, Marie, but his nineteen-year-old son, Brendan, is taking it even harder. For months now, Brendan has been coming home drunk and high — and with an attitude that gets on Mark’s every last nerve. Tonight, Mark has had enough of Brendan’s self-destructive behavior. In the heat of the moment, he pulls Brendan into his lap and gives him the spanking he deserves. But in the moments after the spanking, when Brendan’s rear is still glowing red, Mark hears a confession he never thought he’d hear. Brendan’s attitude and behavior isn’t all about the death of his mother, it’s also about the lust he has for his father.

4,500-word short story

I didn’t even realize I was still holding him down with my left arm. I lifted it off him and then helped him into a sitting position next to me — I saw him wince as his ass touched down on the leather couch. And then I saw something I didn’t know if I ever wanted to see — something I certainly never expected to see.

Brendan had an erection. His cock was rock-hard and standing straight up. I felt an odd surge of pride, knowing my son was so well-hung. I bet the girls he fucked liked the size of his dick, too.

I tore my gaze from his crotch when I realized he was looking up at me. I finally met his eyes — they were red-rimmed with tears, but they were also sober. The spanking had cleared his mid, at least.

“I have to tell you something,” Brendan said. His lips quivered, as if he was scared.

“What is it, son? You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“Dad ... I...” his words faltered and he looked away from me. I took the opportunity to look down at his dick again — there was something oddly entrancing about it. I’d never really looked at another guy’s meat before, and the fact that it was my son’s sent an illicit shiver through me. He looked at me again and there was new steel in his eyes. “Dad, I’m gay.”

It took a moment for that to sink in, but then I threw my arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a half-hug and kissed him on the top of his head. It didn’t really surprise me — a father knew these things about his kids. Brendan had never had a girlfriend that lasted more than a week, and he was very close to some male friends who I knew were gay.

“I love you son, you know that. Nothing can ever change that. Thank you for telling me.” I kissed him again.

“There’s more...” he said.

I let go of him so that I could look into his eyes. This was good — we were getting to the bottom of what had been tearing him apart these past several months. I was ready for anything he could tell me — anything.

“Dad, I ... I’m in love with you,” Brendan said. He laid his hand on my briefs, cupping my bulge.

That ... was unexpected. I sat, frozen, for several long moments, trying to process what Brendan had just told me ... and process the fact that my son was groping my cock and balls. I looked down at his dick again with a new perspective. That erection was for me. My son was horny for me.

A completely unexpected thrill ran through me and I shivered with anticipation. Acting on desires I didn’t comprehend and wasn’t ready to even think about, I reached for his cock, tentatively wrapping my fingers around it. The warmth of his cock felt good on my fingers, so I tightened my grip. Brendan gasped and sunk deeper into the couch.

Piss-Loving Boys 4-Pack

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

Sometimes guys like to get raunchy, wet, and messy — and given the chance, they’ll give into their dirtiest fantasies. This 4-pack of gay watersports stories will satiate your fantasies, as these boys get soaked in piss. This taboo bundle includes:

PISSED ON BY THE BULLY: Joel tries to entrap the closeted homophobic bully, Brian, but the tables turn when Joel lets loose with a golden stream.
HUMAN URINAL: Cocky and disrespectful, Andrew gets what’s coming to him when a dominating daddy ties him up in the men’s room urinal.
GOLDEN SHOWERS: Thinking he’s alone, Christopher gives into his wettest fantasies — until he’s caught by his straight roommate.
FRAT HOUSE PISS PARTY: Ian is new to the frat house and ready for initiation, until he finds out they know about his secret piss-drinking fetish.

16,700-word bundle

I stepped closer to him and closed the stall door behind me, locking it. My heart was racing and my body was tensing for a beating, but I couldn’t back down now. “I know you want something,” I told him in a whisper, “something I can give you.”

And without waiting for him to even react, I fell to my knees in front of him and undid his jeans. He let me open his fly, he let me reach in and grab his cock, and he let me put my mouth on it. Oh, yeah, this guy’s gay.

I stretched my mouth wide to fit it all in me and I sucked on it like a lollipop. He tasted sweaty, like he didn’t shower after a workout at the gym, but I fucking loved it. I like my men dirty and sweaty and masculine. I fondled his balls in my hand, rolling them between my fingers, tugging on the sac, driving him wild.

Joel moaned, but quickly shut his mouth. He sat back down on the toilet and I moved a little closer to him, resting my arms on his muscular thighs. He put his hand on my head and grabbed my hair, forcing me to bob up and down at the pace he wanted.

“That’s good,” Joel muttered, his voice flooded with obvious desire. “Fucking take it, bitch.”

An odd feeling rushed through me — I was enjoying this. I was no longer doing this to take down Joel, to take one for the team. No, I was somehow turned on by sucking off this guy that’s been so brutally mean to me and my closest friends.

Suddenly — far too soon — he held my head in place, stopped me from bobbing up and down on his dick. Please don’t come, please don’t come, please don’t come, I kept pleading in my head. If he shot his load, this would be over before it started and it would be the most disappointing hook-up I’ve ever had. My mind spun with the fact that I wanted a hook-up with Joel to last longer, but there was just something about this encounter that had instantly turned me on.

Sure enough, his cock suddenly pulsed and my mouth filled with his hot — wait ... fuck ... this wasn’t come — this was piss! The douchebag was pissing in my mouth.

I tried to pull my head away from him, but he held me firm in place. “Drink it, bitch. Swallow it all,” he commanded.

Forced By My Coach

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

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.

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.

Frat House Piss Party (Piss-Loving Boys #4)

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

“When we were smoking up last night, Ian said some interesting things,” Lance said.

I instantly went cold and struggled to bring up coherent memories of last night, of what I could’ve possibly told him. Nothing was coming back to me. Lance’s arm around my shoulders now felt heavy and oppressive, like a yoke on cattle.

“Oh?” Ryan asked. It was even clearer now that this was a set-up, that they knew exactly what they were going to say and when.

What the fuck did I tell Lance last night? I knew I usually talk about sex when I’m high, but, surely, that’s not what was going to happen here and now.

“It seems,” Lance said, emphasizing his Southern drawl to draw out the moment, to keep me sweating in nervous agony, “that our boy here is a piss-drinker.”

I closed my eyes and tried to hold back the tears. A hot blush flared on my cheeks. That was my deepest, darkest secret, and I’d gone and told it to someone who was going to use it against me. I was surprised I hadn’t already been kicked out of the house — there was no way they’d let a piss-drinker live with them.

“Well, now that’s interesting,” Ryan said, with a little bit of a Southern drawl of his own. I heard a bit of teasing in his tone, but not disgust. I opened my eyes, terrified to face any of my brothers again, but forcing myself to do just that. “Tell us about it, Ian.”

I looked from brother to brother, trying to figure out where this was going. Then it hit me. They were going to make me piss all over myself. And knowing the humiliation that usually accompanies hazing, they were probably going to film it and show it to everyone. I’d have to not only leave the house, but probably also leave campus. I’d have to figure out how to explain to my parents why I’d wasted all their money and didn’t even stay a term.

“I’m waiting,” Ryan said, his voice suddenly full of authority, something I’d not heard from him before.

“I…” My sentence trailed off as I struggled to figure out what to tell and what to keep secret.

“It’s okay, brother,” Lance said with an oppressive squeeze of my shoulders. “You can trust us.”

I sighed and closed my eyes — I couldn’t look at them as I spilled the beans. I’d decided to just tell them the whole thing. “Piss really turns me on — the smell, the feel, the taste. I usually piss all over myself every morning before I shower and then jack off.”

Even though my eyes were closed, I knew they were judging me. I could feel it in the oppressive silence that had suddenly filled the room. When the silence continued, I opened my eyes and looked at everyone as they stared at me. Their expressions were unreadable, but I knew the night was going downhill from here.

Suddenly, Ryan chugged back the last of his beer and stood up. “You need another drink,” he said, his eyes boring into me.

I glanced at my cup. “I’ve still got some.”

“I wasn’t talking about beer,” he said. He grabbed his fly and drew the zipper down. Reaching inside, he wrenched out his thick, heavy cock, and dangled it into his cup. A second later, the heavy sound of piss striking plastic filled the room.

Taken By Force

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

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.

“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?

Cougar Encounters

Posted on May 9, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

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.

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.

Cougar’s Catch

Posted on May 9, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

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.

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.