Michael Alexander's Blog, page 15

Unexcused

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And Another Please

I gasped, my body twitching as the colors swirled around me. I could feel Alissa’s tongue as it did tiny, intense circles over my clitoris and I couldn’t help myself as I thrust my hips forward, practically grinding myself on her face. Her delicate fingers slid up and down the backs of my legs, drawing strange glyphs on my skin, enticing me to higher levels of pleasure. My spine tingled and

Unwelcome Choices - Epilogue

There are three other parts; One, Two, and Three. This is the END of the story, so if you begin here... well... I'm not saying you'll be disappointed, but you'll be disappointed. Sort of like having sex by yourself. 


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Unwelcome Choice - Part Three

Hi. I'm Breanne and this is an author's note, advising you to read Parts One and Two before you start in on what's below? Why? Simple. You won't really understand what's going on. I hate it when my readers are confused. But posting things BACKWARD is how things go on a blog. So please, if you haven't read Part One, you need to do that. And if you HAVE read Part One, and haven't read Part Two...

Unwelcome Choice - Part Two

If you haven't read Part One, you really need to do that. Why? Well why not? Do you open books to the middle and start there? Of course not. So be smart. Go read Part One so you aren't emailing me with comments like "Breanne? I'm lost! I don't understand! Can you get naked and cum for me?"

Well. Okay. You can send that last little bit. Who knows? Maybe you need to send me an assignment.

Unwelcome Choice - Part One

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Two Hands Please

The dress was scandalous, but no one seemed to mind either the fact that I was practically falling out of it, or that much of it was transparent. The other men seated at our table had actually behaved decorously, which had mitigated some of my embarrassment. The conversation was excellent, the food decent, and the murder mystery itself entertaining. And the fact that I had a jeweled plug stuck

Demolition Day

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The Catholic Schoolgirl

The warm, muggy evening wrapped around me as I climbed out of my car. The neighborhood was nice, with rows of well-manicured lawns and small, but easy-on-the-eyes houses. I swallowed hard, trying to push aside my intense discomfort as the blue plaid and pleated skirt I wore swirled around my upper thighs. I glanced around. Fortunately the street looked quiet and all I really had to fear was

The X Bench

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