© 2000-2004 by
J.C. Stephens
For links to Amazon and
other leading booksellers where you can order this or any of other of the
author’s fourteen various titles, Author's
Site
available as Amazon Kindle books
Purchase the author’s
quality erotica as eBooks at MOBIPOCKET, also available in
paperback at Amazon, and Kindle Book
AGE OF CONSENT, Part
One (Scroll Down)
“Okay,” she acknowledged, coolly trying to
control the situation. “We can keep this on a first name basis, Phil. It looks
like you have me in an awkward situation, just how much do you want for this
personal information?”
“Well, Miss Martin,
Yeah, that’s right, ‘Lynn’,” as she reminded him of his proposal for them to
communicate on a first-name basis. His eyes were gleaming as he spelled out his
indecent proposal.
“I can probably get
more money from your ‘maybe’ husband than you’d be able to come up with. That’s
if he doesn’t change his mind about marriage after hearing about you and that
nigger.”
Lynn was trying to
interrupt, but Phil would have none of that. She was sputtering out an
attempted protest, but he kept right on talking.
“As I’m trying to say,
a man can always get more money, but when you’ve earned the good life and live
to be my age, money doesn’t mean so much anymore. A man like me gets lonely a
whole lot. What he’d really like would
be a ‘friend’ like you, someone who would care a whole lot for him; especially
someone as young and pretty as you.”
That little cheat sure
was looking shocked, maybe not even believing he’d have the nerve to be
proposing what it sounded like he was hinting at. He’ll just come right out and
say what the price will be for keeping their little secret between them. Why
should a man beat around the bush with the likes of her?
“Miss Martin, you look
so good sitting here in those sexy shorts and all, just like a little girl
who’s got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Bet you don’t even have a bra
holding up those nice knockers, them so firm and all. An older man like me
would know how to treat a young thing like you real special. Providing she’s intelligent enough to know
what a big help I can be in getting her out of the deep shit she’s in.”
“Please don’t get angry Phil, but out of
loyalty to my fiancé, I can’t be unfaithful or anything. You aren’t proposing I
submit to you so you won’t tell on me? You’ve already said you don’t want
money, but you seem to want something from me.”
It unnerved Lynn some to see that balding man with that smirk on his
ugly face. Not about to be outwitted by any man, she’d be damned if she let him
intimidate her, though. Once she got it on tape, this evil man to come right
out and say that he was blackmailing a young girl for sex, then
his little scam would be over
“The other day with Monroe was a mistake. I would never cheat on my
husband. I don’t recall doing the things you say, but that man practically
forced himself on me. I don’t remember being naked with him, so, if we were, he
probably drugged or hypnotized me.”
Phil was getting real
angry at this b. s... He was almost shouting.
“God damn it Lynn, I’m
getting angry. I came up here in good faith trying to keep you out of trouble.
All I’ve been getting from you is games.
You didn’t notice this
little light on my briefcase, did you? Know what the flashing means? You’ve got
some kind of electronic device tape recording our conversation, that’s what it
means. Here I’m trying to help you and you’re trying to turn this into a
frame-up, call it blackmail or rape or something.”
All teary and torn, she
can act confident if she wants too, but Phil, a man whose investigations have
led him into the same kinds of opportunity a number of times, knows from past
experience that he’s the same as in her panties now. That’s if she’s wearing
any, that is.
There were others, but
none that was as young, looked as good as the one he was about to lower the
noose on now--the teen aged little rebel, Lynn Martin, the one who looks more
fourteen than legal like she really is.
“I’m tired of your little games anyway. It’s
time for me to get the hell out of here. I thought maybe a girl like you would
have some smarts, but obviously you’re just some spoiled, prissy little thing
used to getting her own way. I’m going to wait for your man to get back from
New York before I drop the bomb in his lap, though. It’s not worth my time
flying out to tell him about you and your ‘equal opportunities’.
You can spend the next
few days getting your story straight. I especially like the part about you
being so lonesome. But with a black man when your man doesn’t even want his ex
wife doing him? Fucking each other for almost five hours at that? Good luck. I
hope you have a happy marriage.”
Lynn was devastated,
destroyed, totally beyond any resistance at all. She thought she could trap
this bastard and now she’s been discovered. It’s hopeless, she can never
control the situation after all this. She doesn’t have enough money to buy him
off. He knows she’s tricky and can’t be trusted. In a few seconds he’ll be gone
and it’ll all be over. She’ll be broke and on the streets.
Desperate, she ran to
the door where she’d hidden the recorder, picked it up and opened it. Handing Phil the tape, she threw the device
against the brick fireplace. It literally exploding from the force of her
desperate demonstration, shattered into unfixable bits and pieces. She crumpled
at the triumphant man’s feet, crying hopelessly.
“Help me! What can I do? I’ll do anything.
Please don’t tell on me.”
He has her now, she so
little, so torn, such a young helpless thing groveling there on the floor.
She’s metamorphosed
from standoffish to submissive seductress ‘Letting your hair down’, was usually
just an expression, but not so with this one. Sunshine hair cascades over her
luscious body, almost long enough to reach those firm hips. God,
what nice legs she has, those tits and that firm, tight belly. His
erection defied logic, even bigger than usual, and with no place to go, all
twisted around in his shorts.
His fantasy, his
teen-age conquest was now within reach. “Live long enough and you can make
anything happen,” he lauded to himself.
“The little bitch,
first the nigger, now me. She’s acting as anxious for what’s happening now as
she was with the last one. All Sam Mitchell’s brat needs to set her off is an
excuse to do it. He can hardly wait to see her reaction to what she’s going to
have in a little while.
He leered down at her.
“You’ve been a bad
little girl, and now you’re going to be punished.”
He surprised himself
with his words. Maybe it was the dominant position he’s managed to finagle, or,
it could be the anger he’s experienced at her clumsy attempt to out-maneuver
him. Could it be that luscious behind, those pert little hips? Anyway, he has
an overwhelming urge to spank.
“Daddy’s going to spank
you, you bad little girl.”
Finally things are
beginning to look hopeful for the desperate girl. If she can please this man,
totally submit, maybe he’ll forgive her, won’t tell on her. All thought of
resistance was gone as she reached out from her crumpled position on the
carpet, and grasped his ankles as he sat there.
“Please, Daddy, please help me. Punish me for
what I’ve done. I’ve been a bad girl and I want you to punish me.”
He has her now. Look at that panic stricken face. Her body all
stretched out helpless on the floor. He reached down and grasped an arm.
“Stand up here, right
now! Let’s get those shorts off.” His
tone was becoming gentle now, admiring.
“What cute, lacy little
panties.” Phil was scolding again. “A nice girl wouldn’t wear something naughty
like that.”
Removing her halter and
tearing its fastener in his lusty haste, her flat, firm stomach was only inches
from his stubbled face. He leaned forward, his tongue swirling in and around
her cute little belly button.
“Red
panties, huh? Only a whore would
wear something like that.” The unscrupulous private investigator practically
tore them from her body.
Guiding her flawlessly naked body to a
position lying prone across his lap, Phil held his hand poised over her cute,
compact little rump, paused, and then spanked.
‘Smack”, she gasped and
jumped a little, a red mark appearing as the quivering of her buttocks
gradually subsided
.
Age
of consent is available as an Ebook at Mobipocket
Or available
as Amazon Kindle books
Suddenly there he was.
Who would have thought her knight in shining armor would be black and his white
horse would be a garbage truck?
He was awe struck
looking at her standing pert at the side of the alley, holding last night’s bag
of trash as she scurried to make her final deposit to the large receptacle
before its weekly removal to the landfill. That’s what he’d said later, after
he had finished ravishing her lovely, luscious body all night long.
The wind whipping those
long red curls, she was brushing them away from her pretty green eyes. Petite
magnifico, she was standing there looking up at him sitting in the driver’s
seat of his big, Cummings Diesel as he bought the truck to a lurching, dusty
stop. He was glad to see the sparkle on her wedding finger, knowing a black man
like him would never get a crack at a pretty one like this, but it was nice to
know she was old enough should the chance arise.
She, expecting this to
be its usual, uneventful event, later couldn’t believe the earth shaking drama
that ultimately scripted itself out. So desirable in her ridiculously skimpy
shorts and little halter, she smiled sumptuously as his mind and eyes ravished
her with carnal lust and desire. His words confirmed the adulation radiating
from his perceptive gaze.
“I probably shouldn’t
be saying this, certainly not to a white woman, but you’re the most beautiful
sight I’ve seen today. Hell no, that ain’t right. You’re like a red-haired
goddess, the best I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s nice to be appreciated,” she
replied coquettishly. “Why would it be
any different if I were black, or purple either, for that matter? I think you
look pretty good yourself. Here I am, alone with my husband out of town for a
couple of days, bored silly, and a nice man like you comes along and starts
giving out nice compliments.
I think it’d be real nice if you could keep driving your big truck
up and down this alley all day today and tomorrow and keep stopping every time
you go by just to say nice things to me.”
He did better than
that, lots better. It seemed plenty natural, his offer to come back and make a
special garbage pick up later that night. There was a school parking lot situated
right behind her house, and she showed him where he could park unnoticed so the
neighbors wouldn’t have something to gossip about.
Everything would have
been all right if that Negro had just been able to control himself. Jolene
wouldn’t have happened at all. There’d been no little colored baby and, when
the little brat grew up, no stepdaughter for her second husband to drool over.
She and her first
husband had been on the rhythm method and it certainly had worked for their
first year. Of course the black man planted his seed deeper than any man before
or after. Anyway, till Pastor White came along that was the case. He definitely
had been bigger and better, even, than the ‘Black Knight’, Jolene’s birth
father.
Babies weren’t a
consideration now, thank God. With a potent man like Reverend, she’d probably
have twins, maybe even triplets after the thunderous sex they’d enjoyed on so
many occasions.
***
Anticipating that night
of sin with her first black man, the one with the garbage truck, she had
conveniently placed a little foil package next to bedside. He’d sweep her off
her feet and shower her with love and kisses. Maybe he’d be so grateful to have
a young white girl like her; he’d even lick her pussy a little bit.
After those
preliminaries, she’d find out if what she heard about colored lovers was really
true. Oh, yes, that would be after she had carefully placed the pre lubed
‘preventative’ neatly on his hot, hopefully largest ever, male package.
Looking back on the ‘event’
she remembered everything began to go wrong shortly after she undressed them
both and started kissing him. They were standing in the hallway immediately
adjacent to her bedroom, lips meshed in a deep, tongue-exploring kiss.
Simultaneously, she had both hands on him, caressing and stroking that firm
hard thing.
Yes, she probably was a little tense at what
seemed like almost impossible differences in his and her anatomy, but curiosity
overcame fear and she just knew everything would be just fine when her black
man slowly and carefully administered to her every want and need.
What went wrong, she
later surmised, was there was absolutely no verbal communication between them
at all. Black Knight picked her up effortlessly, this beautiful little goddess.
“God, my first white woman, and just look at her,” that’s probably what he’d
been thinking.
In his haste he
practically throws her onto the bed. Instinctively, in her nakedness, the young
woman’s legs closed as a defense to make her less vulnerable. The lust driven
man, crazed in his desire to have her, pries her pale, youthful legs apart, not
even hearing her frightened, pleading words.
“Oh, please go slow. You’re so big, I’m afraid you’ll hurt me with that thing of yours.
Please! OH! Please wait. I’m
afraid we might have a baby. Let me put something on you. Oh, please stop.”
***
He has to have her.
Once he gets it in she’ll see how good he feels and will be begging for him to
keep on, will want him all night long. And she does, although not right away.
He grunted out his
appreciation,
“Just relax pretty
lady. Get those legs higher. There, isn’t that better,” he grunted. “You’re
going to love this real soon. God, you white ones sure are tight,” as he pushed
not so gently past resistance and started an infinite descent into impossible
depths.
At first penetration the
size difference between this one and sexual partners she had in the past created
such massive pressure her fear gave way to sheer panic. But, her pleas weren’t
heard, and physical resistance wasn’t even slowing this man down at all. Recognizing
the futility of struggle with such animalistic strength, reason prevailed.
Hadn’t she always wondered how a really large one would be? Not certain whether
it was fear or lust pushing her buttons now, she dropped all resistance, making
her naked body as relaxed as possible.
Her body spread and
opened for her black man’s pleasure. Vulnerable now, her hands, palms extended
upward, made a desperate attempt to slow his lower body and its deep expansive
thrust into what he deliriously saw as his beautiful young red haired lady’s
pure white body, that scarlet patch where he was at now.
As he pushed himself
into her, his muscular hips overpowered her efforts at controlling an
impossible situation. Recognizing the futility of further resistance she
surrendered her trembling body to the black man, babbling incoherently as he
took carnal possession of the sacrificial lamb. This is what she’s hoped for
all along, but never like this. He was going in soo far. It was like once he’d
started, there was no end to this man.
But, black wasn’t so
different, she wasn’t too inexperienced to recognize what was happening now.
She didn’t know then if she was happy it was all over or disappointed because
it’d happened so quick.
It was happening! The seed he was
planting was providing the relief she needed; lubrication replaced stretching
tightness with delirious familiarity. But none of that mattered now.
He was cumming. ‘Wham,
bam, thank you, ma’am,’ Just like her selfish husband, this one was over before
he’d barely started.
“It’s finally getting good and now he’s
finished and its over,” she mused with regret and more than a little
anger. “Colored’s aren’t so good, finishing before they barely get started.”
But her disappointment
played out to be a ridiculous assumption. Huge black man couldn’t get enough of
scarlet haired white woman..
He was on top of her naked body, his sweaty
body heavy while his dormant heat discharged its remnant pulses of potent
sperm, an involuntary reaction to this woman’s vagina that wouldn’t stop its
reflexive spasms. At that time he remembered wondering if all white women
reacted in that way to sexual intercourse. Maybe it was because of the physical
differences between white females and black’s. He’d heard plenty of talk in the
barber shop about how white women, once they got the black cock in them, didn’t
want to give it up.
Luxuriating in such a physically
delightful place, he was aware the way she had resumed that wiggling and cooing
underneath him same as before. Rock hard, his penis’ revival so soon after
cumming surprised even him. As far as the woman he was having was concerned,
she was fucking like a minx again, just like before. There wasn’t any jabbering
about not wanting to be unfaithful to her husband, either. He knew back when
she was pleading for him to quit, that she’d start liking what he was trying to
get her to do soon as they got to going at it real steady.
Sure, he probably
rushed this young white thing a little, but, the way she was throwing such a
fuss and carrying on like she was, he was afraid the bitch might convince him
to quit. It would literally mean the end of the world if ol peter, knocking on
heaven’s door like he was, wouldn’t have gotten his first crack at a beautiful
white woman like this.
And, cumming as fast as
he did, as soon as he was balls deep in her tight little pussy. Well,
undoubtedly he had, but he was sure making up for it now, wasn’t he? Revived
like he was, he’d be able to stay with the little minx till she wore out. Her legs high and thighs spread wide, muffled
sounds of appreciation coming from her.
Incredibly, she felt her
new lover expanding even more so than he’d been before. Her body glowed with
woman’s appreciation as she felt him filling her all over again. This time it
didn’t hurt at all. Her legs held high and thighs spread wide, their mouths
were mashed together and tongues exploring while muffled sounds of appreciation
kept cadence with the shaking bed.
“He
hasn’t finished at all; my big, black lover has barely started.”
She panted, pleaded,
praised, and exalted all night long as her black giant placed his little love-doll
in one position, then another and she lost herself again and again in orgasms.
How many? Hell, she lost count early on, maybe it was continuous, it did seem
one would scarcely end before the next would begin.
available as an Ebook at
Mobipocket
Mobipocket - Ebooks written by J.C. Stephens. Read them on your PC, Palm, Windows mobile, Symbian, Blackberry, or PocketPC.
“You
aren’t some wicked old male after lonely females, are you? Why you naughty
doggie, I had forgotten about the time we took you out on your ‘date’ with that
female Mastiff. Gave her seven puppies you did and that was the first time for
both of you. You stud, you. Maybe I shouldn’t trust you to be at my lonely girl
party.”
He’d started
licking her again, they way he’d been doing before, keeping it up, more and
more naughty till she had to make him quit.
When the tingling in her body gradually subsided, she’d felt sorry for
him, her animal lying there looking so doleful, so expectantly at her. It
wasn’t the poor beast’s fault he thought she was so beautiful, wanted her so
much.
She playfully
pulled him over on top of her.
Almost
immediately, even in her blurred, slightly intoxicated state, Ann sensed this
really hadn’t been such a good idea. The big dog, all plus one hundred fifty
pounds of him, was lying, fully weighted on her as she grasped his massive neck
and handfuls of bristly fur.
Mastinus was
panting, breathing heavy, his mouth grasping at one arm, then the other. He
wasn’t really biting, unless you’d describe it as painless little puppy grasps.
A furiously wagging tail negated his threatening growl.
As they
playfully wrestled, her legs wrapped around his furry body, she rolled him over
and now she was on top, straddling and holding him in place underneath. The
struggling animal ‘bested’ her as he, on top again, pinned her helplessly to
the carpet.
Her short,
silky robe separated through all this, and as his hairy, heavy body lie panting
and heavy on her mostly naked body, she knew they really shouldn’t be doing
this but didn’t want to quit just yet—‘well, maybe lying there for just a
little while with him in the condition he was in wouldn’t hurt anything, would
it?
It did feel good,
covered like this by her huge male animal, but,
“My God what’s happening?”
A sinful torch
of heat was touching her down there. He’d found her. Through sheer panties, the
devil’s wand was fueling her most intimate of places with burning, sin-ridden
heat. She almost passed out from the blissful exchange.
Her limbs
turned to jelly; she had been powerless to move. Ann was aware of the panties,
the flimsy piece of red fabric was the only thing separating and preventing
what would be so easy to let happen.
With Ann
feebly struggling underneath his slobbering, panting body, her canine lover,
sensing victory at hand, was now humping furiously. His efforts weren’t proving
futile, either, not in the slightest. Her body pinned and legs splayed apart by
his massive body, Ann couldn’t have protected her vulnerability even if she’d
wanted. Bumping and prodding away at her
femininity, nature was taking a course that was inevitable but never intended.
Her naughty animal had found the exact spot where her pleasure centers were the
greatest and all she could do was sob out muted little protests. Ann’s hand
drifted along her side to the elastic band, the only thing separating her from
what they both wanted. She loved her dog and he loved her. Did anything else
really matter?
With nature’s
intuition and the experience of that mating with the female Mastiff, last year,
Mastinus was keenly aware of the human female’s receptiveness to his canine
lusts. Ann, lost in the shock of what was transpiring between them, was
insanely aware of that hot sticky thing bumping away between her receptively
open thighs. At the time that had been the only thing her mind could focus on.
His body heaving with exertion and effort,
Mastinus was attempting to place his animalistic red penis inside his mistress.
He’ was getting closer. God, what was even worse, her own hips were moving too,
trying to…what the hell was she trying to do?
Her senses recoiled at the shameless act she’d
been considering.
Thank heaven
she hadn’t let lust overcome a moral code that wouldn’t normally let her even
consider such depravity. She was thankful earlier she modestly decided to at
least wear a scanty pair of little panties, even though it was just her dog
there alone with his mistress. With him all excited and eager and his mistress
acting like some bitch doggie in heat, who knows what might have happened if
her femininity had been exposed and vulnerable.
She flipped
over, trying to struggle to her feet. Mastinus, mindless with desire to possess
his mistress, was covering her again. God, she was getting tired, too exhausted
hardly to resist. For moments, Ann just hung there, suspended in time and
space, her body clamoring for something her mind was forbidding.
On her hands and knees with her sexually
possessed animal hunkered over her, his paws wrapped around her waist, his
bristly body glued as closed to hers as he could get, she tried to rationalize.
“I have tried
to resist, God knows I’ve struggled enough. I told him “No’ too. He’s just too
big, too strong, his animalistic desires too powerful.”
Through that
entire struggle, the wetness of her depraved excitement, the animal, in his
fervent thrusting has stretched those flimsy panties out of the way, exposing
woman vulnerability. His paws wrapped around her waist, His hips pumping furiously, he almost has
her. It would be so easy.
“Who will
know? Who is there who will tell on them for what they are doing? What they are
about to do?”
It would be so
easy to reach underneath their struggling bodies, between her legs, place that
hot, sticky thing that’s bumping away at her where it wants to be, where it
belongs.
“I can find
out, find out what it’s like to be loved by my handsome animal. Mastinus, the
male who loves me unconditionally, who desires me so much—I can give him what
he wants, what he needs.”
“No one will
know. Just me and my Mastinus, my doggie lover will have this secret
together.”
But a
different voice is whispering in her ear, too.
“You, Ann
Mitchell, you will always know you could have prevented all this. Just who is
having these so called ‘animalistic desires’ anyway. Are you positively certain
that the kindest, dearest animal in the world isn’t just trying, as always, to
please his Mistress? You’re the human, the one who’s supposed to know right
from wrong. Any Father Jim, if he comes back, if the two of you somehow get
together again, will you ever be able to keep this torrid secret from him?”
…
Disgusted with
Mastinus and furious at herself for starting this decadent little game in the
first place, with almost superhuman strength and determination, Ann pushed the
thrusting beast off her mostly exposed body and stumbled into her bedroom.
She closed and
this time even bolted her door with her whining dog on the other side. She
showered, washing the proof of their shame from between her thighs, Mastinus’
sticky canine pre-ejaculate commingled with his mistress’s passion juices,
water’s force rinsing bristly hairs from flat stomach and apple breasts. A sob
escaped her lips.
“Ann, it was really the orgasm that made you
see right from wrong, now wasn’t it? If there was any attempted raping done, it
really was you doing that poor animal, wasn’t it?”
She tried to
argue back to the voice condemning her for her deplorable conduct.
The animal was
too big, twice as strong. She was just fooling around, but his animal desires
got in the way. She’d said her ‘No’s’, hadn’t she. How could a girl resist an
animal almost twice her size and strength?
“How about
when he was on top, when that thing of his was prodding away so furiously where
it should never had been? You could have rolled him off of you, and then pushed
him away. Did you really think whispering for him to stop would really make him
quit.”
Ann was
shaking her head in furious denial. Tried to cut out the voice by covering her
ears, but her conscience wouldn’t be denied.
“It was you,
wasn’t it? Admit how you, all the time you were whispering those refusals you
were trying to twist your hips around to capture that heat your doggie was
prodding away at you. He knew how much you were enjoying it, how you tried to
move your behind around in a way that let him get at you better. You thought it
was starting in, then, didn’t you?”
Ann was
shaking her head in furious denial. In her heart of hearts, though, she knew
ever bit of what she was hearing was simply a rendition of what had already
transpired.
It was true;
she’d have reached back and placed it exactly at the center of where all that
blissful joy was being exchanged. “Man’s best friend was about to become
woman’s greatest love,” that’s what her demented voice had been saying. Where
was conscience then, when she’d need it the most?
“She was
telling him to stop, almost shouting it now, but, sensing how close it all was,
how excited his Mistress was becoming, his paws had tightened around her waist,
his nails digging into her soft underside.
His tongue, his doggie slobber wetting her back, his body arched against
her backside, his hips furious in their desire, her arms collapsed out from
underneath.”
Tilted
helplessly forward, her backside still conveniently raised, her head and
shoulders crushed against the mattress, with her animal humping furiously at
just the right spot and angle, she couldn’t have moved even if she wanted to.
“You’d have
reached back between you then, Ann. That’s what you wanted to do, reach back
underneath his furry body, take his hot, sticky thing and place it where you
both wanted it to be?”
Tears
streaming down her face, Ann couldn’t deny the shameful truth. “It was going
in, it really was.” All she could do was hang on, her fingers clutching at the
bedding, while her animal sought his own fulfillment. It felt like her body was
exploding, the gratification that was so near, closing in as her lover battered
furiously away, so close, so intense.
While she was
shouting her refusals, her body couldn’t be denied as orgasm swept over her in
cascading waves, each more intense than the one preceding, then slowly
diminishing in intensity.
“It was your
orgasm, wasn’t it, the deciding factor that let you listen to your conscience?”
Ann didn’t
even try to argue against that moralistic voice tugging at her conscience.
Right had won out in the end. She hadn’t actually had sex with her animal. Or
did she?
Oh, God, how
close they’d come, how much she wanted to make it happen. It wasn’t really her
fault. It all had been innocent fun. Fun, that is, till Mastinus got out of
hand again, got too excited and wouldn’t quit when she’d told him to. Of course
she knew what she was saying was all a lie.
“You can’t
ever let something like this happen again, Ann. Next time you might not be able
to stop. You know something like what you planned wasn’t right. Will you be
able to resist Mastinus the next time? Will you want a repeat? Have your poor
animal take up where he left off? You know you have to come up with a plan that
won’t ever let this happen again.
Ann Mitchell cried herself to sleep that
night, her faithful dog, the one who slept at bedside every night, this time
was whining on the other side of her bolted door.
…
The next
morning she wiped away tears. It was a horribly difficult task but she knew
what had to be done. She called Sam.
“You
always said you wanted to keep Mastinus. He just doesn’t behave around me all
that well now. I thought maybe you and your ‘playmate’ wouldn’t mind keeping
him for a while. I drove by the apartments where you live and saw dogs being
kept there. Your little
Order this or
other complete paperback books links
at the Author's Site will take you to Amazon or Mobipocket where
you can purchase with their ironclad ‘satisfaction guaranteed or your money
back.
available as Amazon Kindle books
Age
of Consent is available as an EBook at Mobipocket
Mobipocket - Ebooks written by J.C. Stephens. Read them on your PC, Palm, Windows mobile, Symbian, Blackberry, or PocketPC.