Wake Up

Writing Dirty Books
1

Slowly waking up in the morning, two lovers play a new game. Bondage, rough sex, and erotic facesitting.

Excerpt:

When she clicked shut the first cuff on my wrist, I raised an eyebrow. She gave me innocent eyes; I yawned. She lazily walked around the bed and pulled my other hand into the other handcuff. Then she made her way to the foot of the bed and found the rope I’d left there. I looked down, straining my neck a bit as she tried to approximate the knot I’d made around her ankles a few hours before. I wasn’t sure how accurate it was, but I couldn’t pull my legs free.

She pulled the blanket and the sheet off of me and I felt, suddenly, the weight of my powerlessness. She looked down at me with her hands on her hips, naked, smiling, planning.

“Are you ready to earn your coffee?” she said with a challenging glint in her eye.

“It’ll be cold by then,” I answered calmly.

She rolled her eyes and knelt on the bed next to me.

The slap was, to be honest, a little too hard and a little too close to my ear. The world swam and spun for a moment.
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Additional Information

Publisher
Writing Dirty Books
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Published on
Mar 16, 2017
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Pages
7
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ISBN
9781508069331
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Features
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Language
English
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Genres
Fiction / Erotica / General
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Content Protection
This content is DRM protected.
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Read Aloud
Available on Android devices
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Jack Stratton
Jack is obsessed with coffee. Every day he goes to the same place for his quad shot, extra dry, non-fat cappuccino. Every day he swoons over the barista.

When he meets said barista at a party she lures him to her apartment and finds a new way to keep him up all night.

Excerpt:

As Jack watched, she wiped one metal nozzle with a damp cloth while pounding a large metal handled portafilter against the counter. She moved fast, her fingers adept and economic in their movements. She tapped out the used grounds, wiped the filter and then brought it up to a huge grinder, which whirled and roared and then filled her filter with exactly enough coffee. She pressed the fine as powder grounds into the metal filter with the bumper and then twisted the filter into the giant espresso machine.

She wore an argyle sweater of dark green and burgundy. It was a low v cut sweater that showed her whole-milk colored cleavage which was sprinkled with freckles like a dusting of cinnamon on a foamy drink.

She sloshed some milk into a large metal cup and then slipped the steam nozzle into the cold milk. The steam screamed as it hit the cold milk. Beads of moisture condensed on her cleavage. Jack was erect as he watched it.

The espresso came in spurts, thick rich crema dark against the white porcelain shot glass. She worked both machines now. Two shot from one, two shots from the other, then all of them into a huge bowl-like latte mug. She followed it with the steamed milk and topped it off with a large helping of foam.
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