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Six bizarre stories about life's adventures, pitfalls, and rewards, and lotza' sexy babes. X-Rated - Adult Content The guy that lets his woman know she'd best not mess around. She won't like the consequences. A futuristic bizarre space adventure in which dreams do come true. A modern day witch, a black cat with unusual green eyes, and a sexy, slinky woman with similar eyes. A good friend gives a girl a young woman her fantasy gift. A near-future main battle tank, a time vortex, a mid-evil castle, a challenge, and sexy women all over the place. You ever have one of those days? Beware whose sex life you mess with. For the price of a corner store cup of coffee it'll curl your pubic hairs! |
Fiction-Adventure from Associate R.L. Kiser (click on the cover) ▼
***** You'd better wear asbestos glasses when you read this book! It's HOT! It's full of lots of steamy sex wrapped around six bizarre and unusual stories of life's pitfalls and happenings. If you're looking for the usual run-of-the-mill porno, this ain't it! You will be glad you read this book. ·· A Nony Mous
**** Rated: "I really liked it" - Interesting, unusual, bizarre? Yes! Sexy? Mostly...an enjoyable read, though I'm not one for foul language in my erotica. This slim volume holds a lovely variety that certainly thrills!
-·· Jazmin at Goodreads
**** Rated: "I really liked it" - Interesting, unusual, bizarre? Yes! Sexy? Mostly...an enjoyable read, though I'm not one for foul language in my erotica. This slim volume holds a lovely variety that certainly thrills!
-·· Jazmin at Goodreads
She
was tall and lithe… well, not too tall, maybe 5’6”, with sexy, tan legs
that were full and tight, not skinny like those anorexic fashion models,
flowing gracefully into a nice, round ass that jiggled just enough to be
enticing. Her skin sparkled as the thin bathing oil splashed and trickled down
her shapely calves. Perfect hips, slender but full accentuating a slender waist
and flat stomach. And those breasts. My Gawd! Full, round, solid, with just
enough weight they pulled down slightly tilting the full areolas and nipples
upward, round bulge to the side and full enough to form a natural cleavage. A
full neck gently leading to a soft but fully defined jaw line. Thin, aquiline
nose, full sensuous lips. Gawd, how he’d love to kiss those lips. Big eyes, long
lashes, noise. What the hell was that gawd-awful noise?
Aw, hell. That beautiful lithe, tan body began to dissolve from the back of John Weston’s eyelids as the sound of a klaxon blaring penetrated his consciousness.
A sharp slap on his arm. “C’mon, get up. We’re scrambled.” That was Bobby Moore, his RIO, Radar Intercept Officer, his flight partner. The term was a holdover from days past of jet aircraft on ocean going carriers. Well, they were much the same now, except instead of flying over the ocean they were in the vastness of space.
John mentally gave her a soft pat on her round ass feeling the warmth of her sexy body. She smiled over her shoulder, eyes full of promise as her image rapidly faded to be replaced by the harsh reality of bright lights and metal walls, the rotating red beacon and that damned shrill, blaring klaxon that pulsed like a hammer beating in his head.
Weston was off his bunk, into his one piece flight suit and boots and running down the hall in a matter of seconds. His crew chief handed him his helmet and quickly plugged in three leads that tethered him to his machine. Not more than three minutes elapsed from sensual imaginings to rushing at a break-neck speed through the launch tube and through the force field. Gawd, how he hated that. Even though it was only for a fraction of a second at these speeds it felt like trying to ooze your whole body through a wall. If anyone tried to walk through it they’d be repelled and collapse in a twitching heap. He often wondered what the long term effects of having your body and brain repeatedly scrambled would be. They probably wouldn’t tell you anyway. His earphones crackled bringing him back to reality. From the rear seat his RIO said, “Is this just going to be another delusional imagining of some paranoid long range radar operator, or is there something really out there this time?”
Imagining. The vision of that pretty face winking over her bare, sexy shoulder flashed through his mind. He said, “Yeah, don’t you just love spending thousands of the taxpayer’s dollars for a joyride?” But he was really thinking of another kind of joyride.
Suddenly as they shot through the emptiness of space they were bathed in a semi-visible ray that rendered their machine and their body’s motor functions inoperable. Just before darkness overtook him he saw them being drawn toward a huge, dark hull visible only because it blotted out the many stars behind it.
Aw, hell. That beautiful lithe, tan body began to dissolve from the back of John Weston’s eyelids as the sound of a klaxon blaring penetrated his consciousness.
A sharp slap on his arm. “C’mon, get up. We’re scrambled.” That was Bobby Moore, his RIO, Radar Intercept Officer, his flight partner. The term was a holdover from days past of jet aircraft on ocean going carriers. Well, they were much the same now, except instead of flying over the ocean they were in the vastness of space.
John mentally gave her a soft pat on her round ass feeling the warmth of her sexy body. She smiled over her shoulder, eyes full of promise as her image rapidly faded to be replaced by the harsh reality of bright lights and metal walls, the rotating red beacon and that damned shrill, blaring klaxon that pulsed like a hammer beating in his head.
Weston was off his bunk, into his one piece flight suit and boots and running down the hall in a matter of seconds. His crew chief handed him his helmet and quickly plugged in three leads that tethered him to his machine. Not more than three minutes elapsed from sensual imaginings to rushing at a break-neck speed through the launch tube and through the force field. Gawd, how he hated that. Even though it was only for a fraction of a second at these speeds it felt like trying to ooze your whole body through a wall. If anyone tried to walk through it they’d be repelled and collapse in a twitching heap. He often wondered what the long term effects of having your body and brain repeatedly scrambled would be. They probably wouldn’t tell you anyway. His earphones crackled bringing him back to reality. From the rear seat his RIO said, “Is this just going to be another delusional imagining of some paranoid long range radar operator, or is there something really out there this time?”
Imagining. The vision of that pretty face winking over her bare, sexy shoulder flashed through his mind. He said, “Yeah, don’t you just love spending thousands of the taxpayer’s dollars for a joyride?” But he was really thinking of another kind of joyride.
Suddenly as they shot through the emptiness of space they were bathed in a semi-visible ray that rendered their machine and their body’s motor functions inoperable. Just before darkness overtook him he saw them being drawn toward a huge, dark hull visible only because it blotted out the many stars behind it.
About The Author
Greybeard is a Sexy Senior Citizen (that's a euphemism for Dirty Ol' Man) who wrote out of the ordinary bizarre stories with lots o' sex & hot babes. For the price of a corner store cup o' coffee it'll curl your pubic hairs! He's currently hiding from the ATF, CIA, DAV, DEA, DMV, DOD, DOT, IRS, HUD, ONI, VFW, and FBI, but the NSA (No Such Agency) knows where he is. |