The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 3

The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 3

Language: English

Pages: 361

ISBN: 2:00151195

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 3

Language: English

Pages: 361

ISBN: 2:00151195

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


This edition of Maxim Jakubowski's Best New Erotica series auspiciously appears with a new collection of fiction from forty-eight artisans of the sensual. Selected from stories by more than 4,000 authors of erotica from around the world, these artful excursions into the libido represent the current states of desire in Great Britain, the United States, Canada, Australia, and France. In this third new volume of voluptuary pursuits, tales by popular talents in the arts of titillation like Michel Faber, Michael Crawley, M. Christian, O'Neil De Noux, Alison Tyler, and Cara Bruce stand alongside stories from promising newcomers to the field of erotic fiction. All of them nonetheless share a standard of excellence and elegance that takes their often humorous, sometimes dark, and always original fictions far beyond tired conventions. So it is that John Grant presents "The Adventures of Thomas the Rock Star in the Court of the Queen of Faery," while Cheyenne Blue depicts the misadventures of a city girl in "Cactus Ass." Then, too, there's Dawn O'Hara's "London Derrière." Claire Tristram serves up "Tomatoes: A Love Story in Three Parts" while Susannah Indigo offers the combination of "Bacon, Lola and Tomato," as Mark Ramsden relishes what's "Truly Scrumptious."

---
Uploader Release Notes:
Retail EPUB, includes TOC/chapters
eISBN: 978-1-78033-376-2
---

Along Came Trouble (Camelot, Book 2)

A Dom's Dilemma

To Desire A Wicked Duke (The Courtship Wars, Book 6)

Sweet Possession (Sweet, Book 5)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

inches from mine. “Merry Christmas,” she says in a seductive whisper. “Long time, no see.” “Same here,” I respond. I can’t imagine another place I’d rather be than with Annie. It’s like standing at the gates of paradise. She smells like a rose garden, and I want to stick my tongue between her legs and taste her juices. Through sweat and smoke, she leans forward and kisses me lightly on the lips. “Missed you,” she says, slowly pulling back. “You still taste good?” “We’ll find out if you want,”

edge of the clearing she set an unopened box of Red Devil Lye: on its side meant please abide; standing straight, no need to wait. Those who waited stood several trees apart, smoking, not speaking, each imagining himself alone between the great black woods and the lighted window. One new moon night when only a granddaddy coon could have found his way from the turnpike to the head of the hollow, a stranger named Charlie Poole sauntered up the trail whistling, banjo in one hand and bottle in the

tips, like one of Fats’s balls falling into a deep, dark, bottomless pocket. “Come back to the room with me,” Daisy said, whispering again in her ear. “Make my clit hard, make my juices flow. Make me scream and cry. I want to lay in bed half asleep and watch you, naked, walk to the bathroom for a drink – I love to watch your ass jiggle, your neat little tits jiggle when you walk. You’re so beautiful.” She did okay with the next game. But as the seven ball sped towards the cushion Eddy felt the

crowds. Mark let his breath out slowly. He turned to look at Anna – reclining in her blue bikini, the water from the ocean rolling in thin streams off her body – and thought he was going to burst. She met his eyes over the top of her paperback, and smiled. They disappeared into the woods, deep enough to avoid exposure. Anna slipped off her tight blue bikini bottom, and bent herself over a thick fallen tree. Mark lingered, looking at the dark tangle of her wet pubic hair, smelling the thick

make it past the age of 30. I didn’t mourn when I found out that certain individuals had been busted by the police. There would be a fresh wave of over-eager 18-year-olds in less than a weeks time. Daisuke was 35, hovering somewhere towards the middle of the yakuza hierarchy. It seemed improbable that a yakuza of Daisukes calibre would bother to penetrate the cramped confines of Papillon, but it was also difficult to believe he had ever been a chinpira. Perhaps the seven years he’d spent in

Download sample

Download