Thursday, November 3, 2011

Michele Hope's New Release -- SERVICE RENDERED


Seven years ago, Michele Hope had become accustomed to Midwestern winters and scraping ice off her windshield. Until one day, a Southern boy possessed of good looks and entirely too much charm fell out of the sky like a piece of space junk, landing smack dab in the middle of her life. He swept her away to the green-gold banana republique de Louisiane and warmer climes, where she resides beside her sleepy and peaceful bayou. Surrounded by wildflowers, animal companions, voodoo and that Southern man, she writes, fishes, contemplates, and occasionally goes to town. A girl needs to dress-up and wear heels from time to time.

A handsome, charming and adventurous couple depart their plantation home for an evening of elegant partying. Our prettiest of Southern belles has given thoughtful consideration, not only to her ensemble, but to the many possibilities the evening may hold. After arriving at the grand antebellum home for a charity ball, their evening progresses with friendly and warm hospitality. Our lovely chatelaine decides to heat up the night, first with an unexpected flirtatious encounter with an equally beautiful woman in the lady's room. Then finding her handsome and commanding husband at the bar, she insists on playtime. Their moment leads to seduction and a guest room with an antique vanity . . . all with a young bartender in tow.


As I walked from our bedroom toward my waiting bath, it was you who was waiting, sly assassin that you are. Without a word, you spun me around to face the wall, my appeal extinguished by your cupped hand, the towel falling to the floor in silent witness. Your restraint lessened as I knew resistance would be futile then I felt your finger tips caressing my arms, outlining my shoulders, tracing down the center of my back. Closing my eyes, I could sense your breathing, still in control yet beginning to rise in concert with my diminishing will. You chose this seduction and I became your compliant and ready victim, needy of your resolve. The delicate nape on my neck rose in electric response and I could smell you in the ionic air. The scent of power. I knew what to do.
Without prompt, I extended my arms to the wall, pushing back against your power. Full of grace, I bent at the waist, offering the barest of resistance. Then the slap to my bare bottom. "Yes!" The sharp crack of palm on flesh reverberated down the short hallway, ricocheting off the bathroom's cool tiles. The report came back to me at light speed. "Spank me one more time," my hushed plea. "and then I will surrender." I stood on tip-toes, arching my smarting buttocks high for your access. Another smack to the same cheek. I welcomed it. My legs spread, my toes struggled to gain purchase on the hardwood floor. I felt your hand massage the sting with gentle caress then handle my breast coarsely, my nipples stiff and aching. Compelling me more, you prepared me with a single finger. I adored letting it all be about you. Because I am in your sphere, I'm pulled ever closer and closer, only to be set free. Oh God! Yes . . .
You had your way with me and never ever selfish, you allowed for my pleasure before your own. That nobility is your manner and with a kiss to the back of my neck and sweet reminder, " How I love you," you disappeared with the same stealth as your assault. Like the dove, I was released. 


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