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39 and Still Holding
by Robin Slick, Donna George Storey, Barbara Foster

Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Romance
Description: Still 40, still sexy. This second volume of smart, seductive fiction proves that love has no maximum age limit. Edited by bestselling author Robin Slick, 39 features the works of Donna George Storey, Barbara Foster, N.L. Belardes, Greg Boose, Santana Smith, Kate Burns and more!
eBook Publisher: Phaze, 2008
eBookwise Release Date: June 2008

eBookeBook

2 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [317 KB]
Words: 69438
Reading time: 198-277 min.


From "The First Time" by Donna George Storey

There's a first time for everything.

Isabel adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag. It was heavier than usual, which was not surprising given all the extra "supplies" inside. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to Christine who was on duty at the register.

"I have an appointment at the bank, then some errands. I should be back by three or so."

Christine's forehead creased into a frown.

"They're not planning foreclosure or anything," Isabel said lightly. It was such a shame to mar that perfect, twenty-four-year-old skin with unnecessary worry. "It's a routine matter. No big deal."

But of course it was a big deal. A fucking big deal.

Do one thing for yourself every day. Something selfish. Simply because you want it.

As Isabel pulled into the Hyatt's underground parking lot, she figured she wasn't the only woman on earth who heard her therapist's voice in her head at critical moments. It was a bit crazy, but wasn't that the point of therapy--to replace negative self-talk with a positive, life-enhancing monologue?

So far she'd carried out Tracy's assignment for the week perfectly. She'd asked her husband to make dinner and clean up when she hosted the last reading at the bookstore. She'd enlisted her daughter to pick up the organic veggie box from the farmer's market on her way home from play practice--a big time saver. She'd bought herself a new coffee mug, just because the color made her happy.

Today's indulgence was far more ambitious, however: rent a hotel room, seduce a stiff and proper banker, sweeten the deal with a very naughty ensemble of lingerie. She wasn't so sure her therapist would approve of that.

Isabel pulled up to the valet stand and shut off the engine. Her pulse was racing. And she hadn't even gotten to the hard part yet.

But there was a first time for everything. Even when you're forty-two.

Although at the moment, handing her keys to the chipper teenager in the valet's shirt--she felt more like eighteen. The age she was the first time she seduced a man, desperate to shed her virginity like a yoke before she went away to college. Dave was twenty-nine, separated from his wife, a friend of her older sister's husband. She could tell he was attracted to her so she invited herself to his place, teased him into kissing her after a drink or two and then laid her cards on the table. She actually dangled a maraschino by the stem in front of him and said she wanted to lose her cherry to him. A long, heart-stopping moment passed before he said, in his wise and weary older man way, "Sure, Isabel, I'd be honored to make love to you."

The memories of what happened then were hazy, like snippets of a movie all bathed in the golden light of a summer evening. Dave's eyes closing as his lips opened under hers. The lazy glide of his finger between her breasts. The way she trembled then, as if he'd touched her heart. But she knew better now. Though he'd kissed her breasts and sucked the nipples languidly, sending sweet twinges of pleasure to her pussy, though he'd parted her legs and eased himself into her oh-so-gently, he'd never really touched her. They'd both stayed locked in themselves, Isabel watching and thinking, is this fucking, is this all? Dave moved so slowly, as if enchanted by her, but she realized now it was probably because he was depressed, guilty, confused by his own demons and desires.

There was one moment she treasured, though: her first lover's face against the pillow as she straddled him, her cunt sliding so easily around him now, her erect, rose-colored nipple daggling before his lips. He looked so happy as he gazed up at her, profoundly content, and her heart soared with the power of it.

Was that what she wanted today? To recapture that power?

Isabel walked up to the reception desk and gave the fresh-faced clerk a smile. Everyone she met seemed so young today, although, at second glance this man was thirtyish, Dave's age. She felt a twinge of nostalgic lust.

"I have a reservation for Isabel O'Shea. I was told you could have a room ready for me before the official check-in time."

"Yes, ma'am, it looks like we can do that for you today."

Isabel glanced around the lobby, head held high. Surprisingly enough, at this moment, she felt confident, nothing like people in the movies who were renting their first hotel room for an afternoon's indiscretion.

"How many room keys will you be needing?"

"Two, of course," she replied, leveling her gaze at him.

His eyes flickered. "Certainly, ma'am."

Middle age had its benefits. She'd gotten much better at flirting, especially when it didn't matter, and toying with the clerk was definitely good practice for the real thing. The packet of card keys in hand, she turned and sauntered over to the waiting elevator. A group of businessmen slipped in beside her, three of them, enough to fill the small space with the faint smell of wool, aftershave, male sweat.

Isabel swallowed, her knees softening from the heady scent. Maybe she should skip the banker and invite this group back to her room? A gang-bang--on her terms, of course--was a long-time fantasy. She'd gather them all around her, order them to strip and feast upon their cocks with her eyes first, comparing the thickness, the curve, the color of the swollen, weeping one-eyed heads. Then she'd take them inside her, one in each hole, willing them to move at her pleasure so she was filled and satisfied, totally, completely and forever.

Do one thing for yourself every day. Simply because you want it.

The elevator stopped at the sixth floor and the men filed out, the last, a curly-headed charmer, turning to give her a nod and jaunty smile. As if he knew.


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