LUSTFUL LIES

Vegas was a bust, my dear Diary,

Too many authors vying for the attention of readers. The only thing good to come out of it was meeting Anne Gordon and her husband, John. She was my table partner, a best-selling erotic author, from rural Kansas, and funny as hell. She was also a girly-girl like me, and dressed for her sexy persona in a corset and mini skirt. I sort of wondered if she was wearing panties. John was quiet, sort of intense. He kept staring at me. It unnerved me and yet aroused me. And his hands…. God, they were fuckin’ fabulous. Long, strong and tan. I got wet just staring at them.

She asked me to dinner with them and I accepted. After two bottles of wine, we were all feeling a bit buzzed as we headed back to the hotel. John suggested a nightcap to celebrate their anniversary. I congratulated them and made noises about not getting them a gift. He said he had some fabulous Scotch in their room and we could discuss this “gift” there. I laughed and thought, what the hell, although I had no idea what he was talking about.

I toasted the happy couple and asked if they had gotten any special presents for each other. They shared a look and Anne replied that they wanted to fulfill a fantasy of a threesome with a call girl, but they both didn’t care of the anonymity of that.

This is where I choked on my Scotch.

John took the glass from me, cupped my face with his big hands and kissed me. God, he was a good kisser. His tongue twirled and lips pulled at mine. I was drowning and I didn’t care that his wife watched. When the kiss ended, I blinked and Anne stood before me, naked. “We

read your article on How to Undress a Man. Let’s put it into action.”

John stepped back and Anne came into my space, her hands cupped my breasts through my silk blouse as she kissed me. Her lips were soft and light, but just as arousing. I felt my panties dampen. She stepped back and I looked at her. “Yes?” she whispered.

I don’t know if it was the wine or the ache of loneliness, but I didn’t think. I simply replied, “Yes.”

 
© 2018 by Maggie Adams Books.