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Authors: M.K. Elliott

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Billy’s mother’s mouth opened in surprise, but nothing came
out. Instead, she gaped a couple of times and then said, “Oh, right. I’ll let
your parents know you’re safe then,” and hurried back out the door.

Katie ran to the bed and clambered on top of him, both of
their bodies tense with unreleased laughter. Their hands clamped over their
mouths until his mother was a safe distance away, then they both burst out
laughing.

“Your dad is going to kill me,” said Billy.

“Aw, your mom won’t tell. And anyway, it’s not like I’m a
little girl anymore.”

No,
thought Billy.
You most certainly are not.

Sexy Shoes

––––––––

J
ames Joyceson thrummed his
foot repetitively on the lush red carpet
of the private plane and checked his watched again. She was late, and nothing
bothered him more than people not keeping to schedule.

If she wasn’t here in the next ten minutes, they were going
to miss their spot and the flight would be delayed. He had several business
meetings in Milan he needed to attend. He planned to buy out a strip of
floundering smaller hotels and turn them into a five star boutique hotel. He
needed to get in at the right time to make sure the owners realized he was
their only option, other than going bankrupt. Being late didn’t put him in the
right light.

He didn’t care she was just a temp and had only been called
a few hours earlier, informing her she was needed for a job that would take her
away for a week. It was no concern of his if she couldn’t decide what to pack
or if she had been caught at short notice. He needed a PA and his normal one,
Margaret, had called in sick. Just what he needed. She caught a stomach bug and
didn’t dare to fly in case she got him sick as well.

Movement caught his attention as a breathless face with high
flushes in her cheeks appeared in the doorway of the small plane. Her long dark
hair was caught up in a chignon, leaving her face fresh and youthful.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I came as fast as I could.”
Then she caught sight of James and the color in her cheeks increased. She
looked away, flustered. “I only got the call a couple of hours ago, and I
couldn’t find my passport. I don’t normally need it for jobs.”

James understood her reaction at seeing him. He had this
affect on most women. Striking-looking, he had salt and pepper hair that gave
him a more distinguished look than his thirty-six years should have allowed.
His dark eyes and full mouth could have belonged on an actor or model, and he
consciously kept himself fit, not wanting to lose his physique to what he
thought of a ‘middle-aged spread’.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his annoyance at her tardiness
deflating at the sight of her.

As she climbed on board, he saw she was wearing a
skirt-suit, and that particular skirt was short. Very short.

She caught him looking and pulled at its hem
self-consciously. “My normal suits were at the dry cleaners,” she said by way
of an explanation.

“No need to apologize.”

He wasn’t going to complain. The incredibly long legs the
skirt exposed were slim but shapely, and adding to their length was a pair of
three inch heel fuck-me shoes.

James felt his cock quiver inside his suit pants and he
purposefully adjusted the folder he was reading to cover it.

Down boy.

But she sat down opposite him, crossing those incredible
long legs, pointing those sexy shoes towards him, and his dick jumped.

The air hostess approached them. “You need to buckle up,”
the hostess said, shooting him a flirtatious smile. “We’re going to be taking
off soon.”

He smiled back, but it was nothing more than courteous. The
sensible flats the hostess was wearing did nothing for him, especially when he
had the shiny black leather heels of his new PA cocked provocatively in his
direction.

“Can I get you some drinks before we take off?” the hostess
asked.

“Sure.” He raised his eyebrows at the woman opposite him.
“Will champagne do?”

“Oh, yes. I mean, I don’t normally drink at lunch time, but
if you’re having some...”

“Champagne it is then.”

The hostess ducked off. “Right away, Mr Joyceson.”

James leant forward, his hands clasped together. “You still
haven’t told me your name.”

She smiled, her full mouth generous, and held out a hand to
him. “Helena Forester.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Helena.”

“Likewise.”

Their eyes locked for a moment and he knew instantly that
she was as attracted to him, as he was to her. The hostess arrived back with
the champagne and they both sat back in their seats, the moment broken.

He couldn’t take his eyes off those shoes. It was a thing he
had had for years, an immediate attraction to any woman wearing a pair of sexy
heels. There was something about the shape of a woman’s foot and the smell of
leather that just got things going for him.

She uncrossed and then crossed her legs again, giving him a
quick flash of black lace between her thighs. His fingers gripped tightly on
his folder, his knuckles showing white. He wasn’t going to last a whole flight
if she was going to keep doing that to him.

She caught where his gaze landed and her cheeks flushed
again.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, clearly mortified.

He gave a brief shake of his head. “Don’t be.”

Her mouth twitched in a smile and she picked up her glass of
champagne, taking a nervous gulp. The plane started to move, taxiing across the
runway until it stopped for a moment. Then, its engines roared back to life and
the small aircraft thundered up the runway and lifted up into the sky.

She gripped the edges of her seat. It was her turn for her
knuckles to turn white.

“Nervous flier?” he said.

She nodded. “Especially on small planes. There’s just
something about them that doesn’t seem possible they should stay in the air.”

He leant forward “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen
to you.”

She took another gulp of champagne, the alcohol calming her
nerves. The plane leveled out and the seatbelt sign went off with a ping.

“So, what is it you need me to do?” she asked.

He opened his folder and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
“First of all you can familiarize yourself with my time table. I’m going to
need you to make sure I keep time, so I can make each appointment.”

He half-stood to pass her the papers, just as she leant
across to take them. Their hands met in the middle and the paperwork slipped from
their grasp, sliding to the floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, falling to her knees,
gathering the spread of documents towards her. Her round ass was shaped
perfectly beneath the tiny skirt. Her naked white thighs disappeared beneath
its hem, hinting at the first swell of her creamy white bottom. The heels of
her shiny black stilettos were only inches from her ass.

James got down in front of her, helping her pick up the
paperwork. Though he knew his erection was huge and obvious beneath the
expensive material of his suit pants, he couldn’t help her seeing it. She
looked up, her gaze travelling across the bulge and up to his face. Her nipples
poked hard through the thin white of her shirt. They locked eyes.

Suddenly, they were on each other, kissing frantically.
Their mouths were hard against each other, tongues seeking and exploring. He
pulled at her shirt, his hand finding the heavy swell of her breast beneath the
lace of her bra, the nub of her nipple hard against his palm. Frantically, he
pulled the lace away, exposing her flesh. His fingers found her nipple and
squeezed gently. He lowered his head, his mouth encircling her hardened nub,
sucking, pulling her nipple into his mouth. Her fingers were in his hair and
she moaned above him.

Her other hand reached down, finding the hard length of his
cock beneath his suit pants. He gasped against her breast as her strong fingers
rubbed him through the material. He took her lead, his own fingers slipping up
her smooth thigh, pushing the short skirt up around her waist, his fingers
finding the black lace of her panties. She parted her legs for him. With two
fingers, he rubbed the damp lace still covering her pussy, feeling for her
sensitive clit. She gave a little sharp intake of breath when he hit it.

James glanced down to those shoes and the shiny black
leather. He lifted his head from her nipple, wrapping his arms around her back,
gently lowering her to the floor.

“I don’t normally do this,” she gasped.

“Neither do I,” he said, grinning wickedly. “But you couldn’t
turn up wearing that skirt and those shoes and not expect me to try something.”

“Someone might come in.”

“Na, the staff could smell the sexual tension the minute you
walked in.”

She lay back on the thick carpet; the short skirt rucked up
around her waist. Her exposed breasts jutted up towards him, her puckered
nipples large and dark in relation to the size of her breasts.

He knelt between her thighs. His fingers trailed down the
length of her extraordinarily long legs, and he pulled her foot, and that shoe,
up towards him.

With his free hand he unzipped himself, and his cock, huge
and throbbing, sprang out of his pants. Helena’s lips parted as she took in his
length, her tongue slipping out, wetting her lips. While he would have loved to
push his cock into that beautiful mouth, feel her tongue teasing its tip, he
didn’t have that in mind.

He tugged the rest of his pants down and pulled her foot,
still encased in its sexy shoe, against him. The cool sole of her shoe pressed
flat against his balls, the heel pushed with just the right amount of pressure
against the tight hole of his ass. His hand slipped up and down the hard length
of his cock, moving back and forth.

She was sprawled in front of him, her thighs spread. The
lace of her panties was pulled to one side and her hand worked the sensitive
nub of her clit. One hand separated her lips, giving him the perfect view of
her most intimate opening, while her other hand’s fingers rubbed her clit in an
ever increasing speed. She was breathing hard, her cheeks and chest flushed.
Her eyes focused on his cock as he masturbated.

Helena was sexy as hell, but it was her other foot James
focused on; the sharp spike of the heel, the sensuous curve of the instep.

His head bulged red, a drop of pre-cum glistening on its
tip. Her body stiffened and bucked, her head thrown back, and she cried out
loud as she came. He was only moments behind, cum spraying down over her
thighs.

They panted together, allowing the last waves of their orgasms
to wash over them. Helena pushed herself up on her elbows, and they stared at
each other, surprised and amazed at what had just happened.

“You’ve ruined my only clean suit,” she teased.

“Don’t worry; I can buy you plenty more in Milan.”

“Are you planning to wreck those as well?”

“Only if you let me.”

He had a very strong feeling he wasn’t going to get much
work done that week, and for once, he didn’t care.

By M.K. Elliott

––––––––

T
he third day of their
luxury break on the Caribbean island of
St. Kitts dawned hot and bright. Once again, her husband was nowhere to be
found.

Lisa stretched her slim, naked body under the sheet. Her
skin was already sun-kissed from their first few days and her tan looked even
darker against the white cotton. Above the bed, a wooden paddle fan spun a
gentle breeze; the sound of birdsong drifted through the window.

Her hand strayed to the other side of the bed. Tristan’s
side was still warm; he hadn’t been up for long.

Lisa searched her memory, trying to recall what adventure he
was out on that morning. Sailing? Scuba diving? Game fishing? She knew she
shouldn’t complain; her husband’s love of all things sporty and adventurous
kept his body as hard and lean as it was at the age of thirty-four. Her idea of
a perfect vacation, however, consisted of lying pool-side for hours on end, a
steamy paperback in hand and a cocktail by her side. Even after five years of
marriage, their choice of activities weren’t exactly compatible.

Lisa swung her slender brown legs off the side of the bed
and stood. Still naked, she made her way to the mini-bar fridge and helped
herself to a bottle of sparkling mineral water. Despite the relatively early
hour, the day was already warm. Using her hand, she applied the cool moisture
of the bottle’s condensation to her chest and temple.

The luxury room was complete with a private garden and a
huge outside rain-shower. After the antics of the previous night, she needed to
take a shower and rinse off before heading out to the pool.

The memory made her squeeze her thighs together, taking
pleasure in the lingering tingle in her loins. She’d never grow tired of
Tristan’s body moving above, under and inside hers. It was a shame they never
got the chance to continue the evening’s love making into the morning; Tristan
was always up at first light to attack that day’s adventure.

Lisa took a swig from the bottle and made her way outside to
the tiled shower area. A large, silver showerhead protruded from the wall,
circling directly above her head. Another couple of nozzles were attached to
the walls on either side, creating a full-body shower experience.

She turned on the tap and water hammered onto the tiles.
Lisa put the bottled water on the floor and stepped in, the cool water rinsing
off her hot body. Tipping her head back, she let the water run through her
long, brunette hair, swishing down her spine. She closed her eyes and allowed
the water to pummel her.

Warm hands circled from behind, cupping her breasts. Lisa
shrieked, her heart clambering into her throat. She tried to spin around but a
hard, naked body pinned against hers and a voice whispered in her ear, “Stay
right where you are.”

Lisa grinned, but her pulse continued to race.

“Tristan!” she protested, but they both knew she didn’t mean
it.

His warm lips met with the side of her neck, sending goose
bumps across her skin. Fingers massaged her breasts, rolling her nipples into
hard nubs, sending shock waves of pleasure coursing between her thighs. His
lips nibbled and teased their way down to her shoulder and Lisa pressed back
against him, the length of his cock rigid against her lower spine.

She wanted to reach back but Tristan had her firmly in his
grip, his arms wrapped around her body. He pushed her up against the shower
wall, her hot nipples meeting the cool tiles.

He released his hold on her and took one of the side shower
nozzles off the wall. The hard stream of water massaged her skin and muscles as
he held the spray against her shoulders.

Gradually, Tristan moved the showerhead down. His other hand
traveled down the front of her body, skirting her flat stomach. He pressed his
palm against her pubic bone, pushing her ass out toward him.

“Bend over for me, baby,” he said, his mouth hot against her
ear.

With her hands braced against the tile wall and trembling in
anticipation, she did as she was told, arching her back and bending to
forty-five degrees. Her ass pushed back against him, but he backed away
slightly, and continued the downward movement of the shower.

The hard stream massaged the creamy curve of her buttocks.
Lisa dropped her head and moaned, knowing exactly where he was going.

Using the showerhead, he aimed the blast at the tight ring
of her ass. The individual jets pummeling the sensitive area made her gasp. The
stimulus caused deep contractions within her pussy; all of her internal muscles
pulsing in a heady flow of pleasure.

With his free hand, Tristan reached around her body, his
fingers seeking the sensitive hooded nub between her thighs. He flicked her
clit, sending little tremors of bliss through her. He slid two fingers down her
folds, separating her, and pushed a finger inside, slicking his digit in her
cream.

Lisa whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut.

Tristan dropped the showerhead and moved them both out of
the flow of water. He withdrew his finger and used her moisture to lubricate
the tight opening to her ass. His body was wet and taut against hers, his
erection rock hard against her hip.

He slowly pushed a finger into her ass. Lisa instinctively
tightened at the slight burn as he pushed past the taut ring of muscle.

“Relax, baby. You know I’d never hurt you.”

Totally trusting of him, she relaxed, her muscles loosening
and allowing him access. Lisa groaned again and pushed back on his hand. He
reached around her body with his other hand and located her clit once again.
With slow, firm circles he massaged the sensitive spot, all the while sliding
his finger in and out of her ass.

The sensations built within her, a tightly wound coil in the
pit of her belly. She knew she wouldn’t last long. Already her body started to
move of its own accord, every muscle tightening and relaxing in a pace to match
her husband’s rhythm in her ass.

After five years of marriage, Tristan could read every sign
her body threw at him. Knowing she was right at the peak, he slowed his
movements and slipped his finger from her body.

“Don’t come yet,” he told her. The bell end of his cock
nudged her lower back. “You think you can take all of me?”

“Use the baby oil,” she gasped, jerking her head toward the
small, clear bottle she kept in the shower to keep her skin soft after a day in
the sun.

He picked it up and she heard the click of the cap opening.
The next moment, cool fluid dribbled over her ass and Tristan’s hands returned
to work on her, smoothing the oil into the smooth curves of her buttocks. He
pulled her ass cheeks apart and oil ran over her pucker.

“That wasn’t quite what I planned for you to do with it,”
she half-moaned, half-laughed.

He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “I know, but I couldn’t
resist. I adore seeing you all oiled up.”

Lisa twisted her head back to watch Tristan trickle oil onto
the length of his cock. She loved watching his strong fingers wrapped around
that beautiful, long dick as he massaged himself, his hand skimming up over his
length and back down again.

He leaned over her back and the smooth head of his cock
nudged her tight opening. Ready to take him, only a little pressure was needed
to push the bell of his dick inside her ass. They stilled for a moment,
allowing her muscles to stretch around his girth.

With only a slight shift, he slowly inched the full length
of his cock deep inside “Oh, God,” she cried, her head spinning with a
combination of pleasure and a sharp sting of pain. Her palms flattened against
the tiles, using the wall for support as Tristan moved into her, her muscles
gripping the length of his cock like a fist.

Thrusting slowly and carefully at first, he built up
momentum. His hand found her clit once again but instead of the slow circles he
knew would build her up, he used fast flicks that would tip her over the edge.

In a sudden burst, Lisa’s orgasm powered over her; her whole
body a tingling mass of ecstasy, spreading from her center out into her limbs.
She cried out, the sound echoing in the confined space, her eyes squeezed
tight, her mind rolling with pleasure. Tristan managed to hold himself until
the last waves of her orgasm jolted over her. He pulled from her body, letting
go of his own release, hot cum spurting over her back and buttocks.

They stood together for a moment, catching their breath, and
then Tristan pulled her back under the water, rinsing her clean.

Lisa twisted around to face him, her cheeks flushed, her
legs weak. His messy brown hair spiked in all directions, his dark brown eyes
roving her naked body, a satisfied grin on his face.

“I thought you were going fishing this morning,” she said,
wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a long, slow kiss on his mouth.

He returned the kiss, his arms encircling her waist, pulling
her hard against him before breaking the contact. “Diving,” he corrected her
with a grin. “But I couldn’t get my beautiful wife off my mind and decided we
should have a little recreational activity of our own this morning.”

Lisa grinned against his mouth. “And here was I thinking
there weren’t any activities we could do together,” she said.

“There will be as long as our main interest is each other.”

“Of course,” she said. “Now, are you going to carry me back
to bed or are you going to run off and leave me for something more exciting?”

He scooped her up in his arms. “Nothing is more exciting
than you.”

~*~

Like
what you’ve read? Down in the Sand is now available to buy!

Escape the
winter blues with six, sexy summer stories guaranteed to get you warmed up in
all the right places. Allow best selling erotica author, M.K. Elliott, to
transport you to soft sands, blue skies, and sexy, tanned bodies. Prepare to
get ‘Down in the Sand’.

A jilted
boyfriend finds comfort in the arms of a couple of young backpackers in ‘Dear
John’. An air hostess gets a naughty surprise on her ‘Stopover’. A married
couple on vacation find they have more in common than they thought in
‘Recreational Activities.’ And more...

Warning:
This book is intended for ADULTS ONLY and contains explicit material including
anal sex and ménage. 'Down
in the Sand' totals approximately 15K in word count (or 60 pages standard
paperback).

––––––––

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you want to stay updated about M.K.’s new releases? Sign up to M.K. Elliott’s
new release list on her blog. She promises only to email about new releases and
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