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David Vernon
The Heat Wave of '76 and Other Award-winning Stories from the Stringybark Erotic Fiction Award
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781034The Heat Wave of '76 and Other Award-winning Stories from the Stringybark Erotic Fiction Awardhttps://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-heat-wave-of-76-and-other-award-winning-stories-from-the-stringybark-erotic-fiction-award/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/401378/3910df1e-9c0e-4842-bc3e-1261c6c96017.jpg?v=6383345465167700008282MXNDavid VernonInStock/Ebooks/<p>Sergei smiles as he sits down at her head. His lover grasps his long fingers and leisurely runs her tongue over them. His precious fingers! They are in her mouth! With a bite, she could ruin his career. I must intervene. I must! I tense, ready to reveal myself. Sergei smoothly caresses her cheek with his left hand and gently extracts his fingers from her slavering maw. Ma chérie, he murmurs and has a swallow from his champagne glass. His lover takes a more delicate sip and then their lips touch. She is inhaling his intoxicating aftershave. He is sensing a woman aroused.<br /> from Sergei by Michael Wilkinson</p><p>He was handsome, maybe four years younger than me. Twenty-three, Id say at a guess. He had dark eyes and a head of scruffy blond curls. He was wearing a pair of ancient yellow footy shorts, and nothing else. His shoulders were broad, and his powerful chest was smooth ... His skin was tanned from long hours under the sun. As he approached, I couldnt help but notice a thin smear of grease on his stomach, just to the left of his navel, trailing down onto the elastic waistband of his underwear then onto his shorts.<br /> from Grease by Peter Jason Smith</p><p>Richie kneels between my parted legs with studious concentration, attending with his fingers to what he calls my woman-space. He has the grave, semi-focused gaze of someone testing the ripeness of an avocado at the market.<br />Is that good? he says. Is this? What about now? Richie is working as a telemarketer to support his directorial pursuits. I imagine him saying, On a scale of one to ten, with one being frigidity and ten being a soaring crescendo of orgasmic ecstasy, how would you rate the intensity of pleasure that I am administering right now? Uh, two. Maybe two-and-a-half. Thank you. But can I ask that you specify a whole number? OK, two.<br /> From The War of the Roses by Mardi OConnor</p><p>Twenty-one award-winning erotic stories are included in this anthology of short stories written by some of the best Australian and international writers. From the discreet to the explicit these stories will provide heat on the coldest evening, Chosen by Dr Kathryn Dwan, Dexter Dutton, Fanny Lawrence and David Vernon.</p>778379The Heat Wave of '76 and Other Award-winning Stories from the Stringybark Erotic Fiction Award8282https://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-heat-wave-of-76-and-other-award-winning-stories-from-the-stringybark-erotic-fiction-award/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/401378/3910df1e-9c0e-4842-bc3e-1261c6c96017.jpg?v=638334546516770000InStockMXN99999DIEbook20119781465994721_W3siaWQiOiJmNDcyMzRmYy0yNDQ2LTRiMmYtYjJkNC0zYzQwYjUxMGJmMDMiLCJsaXN0UHJpY2UiOjgyLCJkaXNjb3VudCI6MCwic2VsbGluZ1ByaWNlIjo4MiwiaW5jbHVkZXNUYXgiOnRydWUsInByaWNlVHlwZSI6IklwcCIsImN1cnJlbmN5IjoiTVhOIiwiZnJvbSI6IjIwMjItMTEtMjlUMjE6MDA6MDBaIiwicmVnaW9uIjoiTVgiLCJpc1ByZW9yZGVyIjpmYWxzZX1d9781465994721_<p>Sergei smiles as he sits down at her head. His lover grasps his long fingers and leisurely runs her tongue over them. His precious fingers! They are in her mouth! With a bite, she could ruin his career. I must intervene. I must! I tense, ready to reveal myself. Sergei smoothly caresses her cheek with his left hand and gently extracts his fingers from her slavering maw. Ma chérie, he murmurs and has a swallow from his champagne glass. His lover takes a more delicate sip and then their lips touch. She is inhaling his intoxicating aftershave. He is sensing a woman aroused.<br /> from Sergei by Michael Wilkinson</p><p>He was handsome, maybe four years younger than me. Twenty-three, Id say at a guess. He had dark eyes and a head of scruffy blond curls. He was wearing a pair of ancient yellow footy shorts, and nothing else. His shoulders were broad, and his powerful chest was smooth ... His skin was tanned from long hours under the sun. As he approached, I couldnt help but notice a thin smear of grease on his stomach, just to the left of his navel, trailing down onto the elastic waistband of his underwear then onto his shorts.<br /> from Grease by Peter Jason Smith</p><p>Richie kneels between my parted legs with studious concentration, attending with his fingers to what he calls my woman-space. He has the grave, semi-focused gaze of someone testing the ripeness of an avocado at the market.<br />Is that good? he says. Is this? What about now? Richie is working as a telemarketer to support his directorial pursuits. I imagine him saying, On a scale of one to ten, with one being frigidity and ten being a soaring crescendo of orgasmic ecstasy, how would you rate the intensity of pleasure that I am administering right now? Uh, two. Maybe two-and-a-half. Thank you. But can I ask that you specify a whole number? OK, two.<br /> From The War of the Roses by Mardi OConnor</p><p>Twenty-one award-winning erotic stories are included in this anthology of short stories written by some of the best Australian and international writers. From the discreet to the explicit these stories will provide heat on the coldest evening, Chosen by Dr Kathryn Dwan, Dexter Dutton, Fanny Lawrence and David Vernon.</p>9781465994721_David Vernon1ac8088e-6121-36a2-840f-f35eeb15415f_9781465994721;9781465994721_9781465994721David VernonInglésMéxicohttps://getbook.kobo.com/koboid-prod-public/smashwords_level45-epub-f65d02f0-1ed8-4693-9b97-ae602db6e441.epub2011-10-12T00:00:00+00:00David Vernon