Book Excerpts
Excerpt from my erotic novel, Cult of Beauty: The Secret Life of a Supermodel
You can find it here on Amazon.com.
"I stood up feeling restless, buzzing hard and twirled around to show the flow of the dress.
“I put on this vintage dress that belonged to my mother because it kind of reminds me of those priestesses Gavin drew.” The boys nodded appreciatively, focusing on me again, on the length of my legs that flashed through the flowing gaps as the red fabric swirled around me in the blood-orange glow of the dying sun. I stopped suddenly, sat on the deck chair next to Chip and took the tray of coke to do the last line that was sitting there. Better me than them. The dress again fell away to show my legs up to my hips, and the way I was sitting, on my side, revealed a good part of my ass too.
Chip cocked his head and leaned forward a little, a ripple of energy shuddering through him. “Jesus, is that g-string made of pearls? Are they real? How much did those cost?”
The other three men’s heads turned and they all intently stared at my exposed bottom, adorned with the beautiful string of pearls.
Daniel said quietly, “Around fifty thousand—yes, they’re real.”
“Wow. That shit is crazy!” Philip was trashed now and very high, and he boldly reached over to me and lightly touched the pearls with his finger tips. The strand was a little slippery from sliding in the slickness of my peach. I was getting so aroused from my exhibitionism and the oddness of the situation.
Gavin leaned over and tapped Philip’s hand away, and waving a finger, said, “Ah ah ah…no one said you could touch.”
Philip held up his fingertips for everyone to see. They were shiny with my juices. He whispered, “I think she wants to be touched. These pearls are wet. Take them off.”
They all shifted their gaze back to my face, seeking a confirmation.
I stood up, wobbling slightly on my five-inch heels, blood rushing to my head, flying high on the bourbon, wine and coke I had consumed. “You have your blackmail pictures, so I don’t have much of a choice here, do I?
Philip nodded, leaning back, doing some kind of interpretation of a bad-ass rap star pose, and gestures to himself, “Yep, we have the pictures. You do what we say bitches…”
I could see Daniel seethe at this posturing, being the alpha male that he was, but I thought it was kind of funny and cute and said, “Okay, I’ll do it then.” Lifting the front of my dress to my hips. There was a slight intake of breaths as the guys saw my barely concealed pussy. I hooked my thumbs on the sides of the g-string and slowly, teasingly slid it down my thighs to my knees. I sat back down again on the deck chair and lifted up my feet. Before anyone else could make a move, Chip was on one knee in front of me and pulled the precious stone garment down past my calves, threading them carefully over the shoes. He brought them up to his nose and inhaled their scent.
Daniel let out a laugh that sounded like a bark. “Never thought you’d ever get a whiff of that, huh?”
Chip shook his head and stuck out his tongue and licked the dewy pearls. He had some balls. “Mmmmm. Nope. Though I’ve fantasized about it plenty ever since she moved in with you. The last time was just this morning…” He smiled wickedly and did a Groucho Marx thing with his eyebrows, making them go up and down for comedic effect, and the boys snickered some more. They were having the time of their lives.
I took a sip of my drink and waited to see what would happen next. It was my first time in a situation like this, where someone else was in complete control and I was at their command. I was suddenly a sex slave. Not only that, but I was with four men and it felt highly charged—everyone was horny as hell and wanted to fuck. Everyone was wasted too and the atmosphere felt electric, like anything could happen. I was ready for anything. I wanted some cock badly, and had been yearning for sex with Gavin all day. I now secretly wanted all of these men to take me as their object of desire, impale me on their hard cocks and use me for their greedy pleasure. I had known that situations like this existed, orgies and out-of-control party nights, but had never been in one. It was blowing my mind. Like a crazy lust-filled rush which was making me soaking wet, throbbing with desire. The guys could sense I was ready to be a dirty girl from my face, my posture, the fact that I wasn’t cursing them out.
Philip gestured to Gavin’s iPad. “I know. Let’s recreate the scene where the priestess is fucking her sacrificial victim. I’ll be the victim.”
He stood and pulled down his shorts, boxers and shrugged off his t-shirt. He looked at me and the others to see if we were going to do as he said. He was in great shape, beautiful sculpted torso, strong athletic arms, nicely proportioned cock. I didn’t mind being forced to fuck him. I liked his creativity in using Gavin’s fashion fantasy to fuel the orgy he was trying to instigate.
I walked over and stood in front of Philip. He was quite erect now. “So what do I do?”
Philip put his hands on my ass and pulled me close, then lifted the front of my dress and planted a kiss on my landing strip. His mouth’s soft caress made me shiver a little with lust. He looked over at Gavin, “Gavin, you’re the creative genius. You should direct who does what.”
Gavin shook his head, no longer fighting the situation—perhaps intrigued even about how this was developing. “No man, this is your show. I did my part already with the drawings. You’re in charge.”
Philip lay back on the deck chair, and wrapped his hand around his hard on. “Come on, Katie, let’s start with priestess fucking the sacrificial victim.”
“Do you want me to keep my dress on, or to take the dress off?”
“Take it off.”
I pulled the halter straps of the Halston off my shoulders, revealing my breasts. Philip said, “Mmm.” I put my hands on my breasts and held them up—ripe, full fruit for their delectation—my nipples were puckered and throbbing. I felt sexual and crude like a porn star. “Do you like?” I asked. Philip answered with just one word, “Love.” He was almost panting. Then I pushed the dress down from my hips, letting it fall in a pool of red around my feet. Chip whispered to himself, “Oh my God…the hotness.”
Then I got on the deck chair on my knees, naked except for the sandals, and straddled Philip over his swollen phallus. He puts his hand on my waist to steady me as I reached behind me to guide it into my pussy. His shaft slowly penetrated me. It felt wondrous as it filled up my pussy—so thick and long—the pleasure of it was making me breathe in short, sharp breaths."
To read more, go to www.amazon.com ... Thanks for visiting!
K M Dylan © 2012 | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
"I stood up feeling restless, buzzing hard and twirled around to show the flow of the dress.
“I put on this vintage dress that belonged to my mother because it kind of reminds me of those priestesses Gavin drew.” The boys nodded appreciatively, focusing on me again, on the length of my legs that flashed through the flowing gaps as the red fabric swirled around me in the blood-orange glow of the dying sun. I stopped suddenly, sat on the deck chair next to Chip and took the tray of coke to do the last line that was sitting there. Better me than them. The dress again fell away to show my legs up to my hips, and the way I was sitting, on my side, revealed a good part of my ass too.
Chip cocked his head and leaned forward a little, a ripple of energy shuddering through him. “Jesus, is that g-string made of pearls? Are they real? How much did those cost?”
The other three men’s heads turned and they all intently stared at my exposed bottom, adorned with the beautiful string of pearls.
Daniel said quietly, “Around fifty thousand—yes, they’re real.”
“Wow. That shit is crazy!” Philip was trashed now and very high, and he boldly reached over to me and lightly touched the pearls with his finger tips. The strand was a little slippery from sliding in the slickness of my peach. I was getting so aroused from my exhibitionism and the oddness of the situation.
Gavin leaned over and tapped Philip’s hand away, and waving a finger, said, “Ah ah ah…no one said you could touch.”
Philip held up his fingertips for everyone to see. They were shiny with my juices. He whispered, “I think she wants to be touched. These pearls are wet. Take them off.”
They all shifted their gaze back to my face, seeking a confirmation.
I stood up, wobbling slightly on my five-inch heels, blood rushing to my head, flying high on the bourbon, wine and coke I had consumed. “You have your blackmail pictures, so I don’t have much of a choice here, do I?
Philip nodded, leaning back, doing some kind of interpretation of a bad-ass rap star pose, and gestures to himself, “Yep, we have the pictures. You do what we say bitches…”
I could see Daniel seethe at this posturing, being the alpha male that he was, but I thought it was kind of funny and cute and said, “Okay, I’ll do it then.” Lifting the front of my dress to my hips. There was a slight intake of breaths as the guys saw my barely concealed pussy. I hooked my thumbs on the sides of the g-string and slowly, teasingly slid it down my thighs to my knees. I sat back down again on the deck chair and lifted up my feet. Before anyone else could make a move, Chip was on one knee in front of me and pulled the precious stone garment down past my calves, threading them carefully over the shoes. He brought them up to his nose and inhaled their scent.
Daniel let out a laugh that sounded like a bark. “Never thought you’d ever get a whiff of that, huh?”
Chip shook his head and stuck out his tongue and licked the dewy pearls. He had some balls. “Mmmmm. Nope. Though I’ve fantasized about it plenty ever since she moved in with you. The last time was just this morning…” He smiled wickedly and did a Groucho Marx thing with his eyebrows, making them go up and down for comedic effect, and the boys snickered some more. They were having the time of their lives.
I took a sip of my drink and waited to see what would happen next. It was my first time in a situation like this, where someone else was in complete control and I was at their command. I was suddenly a sex slave. Not only that, but I was with four men and it felt highly charged—everyone was horny as hell and wanted to fuck. Everyone was wasted too and the atmosphere felt electric, like anything could happen. I was ready for anything. I wanted some cock badly, and had been yearning for sex with Gavin all day. I now secretly wanted all of these men to take me as their object of desire, impale me on their hard cocks and use me for their greedy pleasure. I had known that situations like this existed, orgies and out-of-control party nights, but had never been in one. It was blowing my mind. Like a crazy lust-filled rush which was making me soaking wet, throbbing with desire. The guys could sense I was ready to be a dirty girl from my face, my posture, the fact that I wasn’t cursing them out.
Philip gestured to Gavin’s iPad. “I know. Let’s recreate the scene where the priestess is fucking her sacrificial victim. I’ll be the victim.”
He stood and pulled down his shorts, boxers and shrugged off his t-shirt. He looked at me and the others to see if we were going to do as he said. He was in great shape, beautiful sculpted torso, strong athletic arms, nicely proportioned cock. I didn’t mind being forced to fuck him. I liked his creativity in using Gavin’s fashion fantasy to fuel the orgy he was trying to instigate.
I walked over and stood in front of Philip. He was quite erect now. “So what do I do?”
Philip put his hands on my ass and pulled me close, then lifted the front of my dress and planted a kiss on my landing strip. His mouth’s soft caress made me shiver a little with lust. He looked over at Gavin, “Gavin, you’re the creative genius. You should direct who does what.”
Gavin shook his head, no longer fighting the situation—perhaps intrigued even about how this was developing. “No man, this is your show. I did my part already with the drawings. You’re in charge.”
Philip lay back on the deck chair, and wrapped his hand around his hard on. “Come on, Katie, let’s start with priestess fucking the sacrificial victim.”
“Do you want me to keep my dress on, or to take the dress off?”
“Take it off.”
I pulled the halter straps of the Halston off my shoulders, revealing my breasts. Philip said, “Mmm.” I put my hands on my breasts and held them up—ripe, full fruit for their delectation—my nipples were puckered and throbbing. I felt sexual and crude like a porn star. “Do you like?” I asked. Philip answered with just one word, “Love.” He was almost panting. Then I pushed the dress down from my hips, letting it fall in a pool of red around my feet. Chip whispered to himself, “Oh my God…the hotness.”
Then I got on the deck chair on my knees, naked except for the sandals, and straddled Philip over his swollen phallus. He puts his hand on my waist to steady me as I reached behind me to guide it into my pussy. His shaft slowly penetrated me. It felt wondrous as it filled up my pussy—so thick and long—the pleasure of it was making me breathe in short, sharp breaths."
To read more, go to www.amazon.com ... Thanks for visiting!
K M Dylan © 2012 | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
And from my current work in progress, The first lady, book three of the cult of beauty series
"A bead of sweat was trickling down my poor security agent’s forehead, and he eyed me with barely disguised desire. It was a look I was very familiar with in men. But he forced himself to step back and put up his hands, saying, “Madame First Lady, it saddens me to say this, but the rules don’t allow us to have intimate physical contact.” I knew he wanted me, had similar feelings to mine, but was trained to be professional. He would get fired for the transgression if his superiors found out.
I half turned, and propping myself up on an elbow, smiled at him. His erection was plain to see, bulging against the nylon of his shorts, and I was as mesmerized as a kid looking at an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day. It was a reversal of our typical roles since women for millennia have been conditioned by social mores to be the coy ones. Why was that? Historically, it was typically positioned as an issue of morality and dignity. Being shamed as a slut makes most girls and women feel demeaned and a threat to to their social status. But I thought, maybe it was a way to keep women penned in. A woman’s ability to seduce is power. The old male power brokers wanted to keep that power contained, to clip our wings. My security agent was trying very hard to maintain his composure. He had said no, and no is supposed to mean no. Except this time it didn’t. I didn’t give a shit about the rules and social mores. I just wanted this man, badly. My inner slut was now in charge.
I sat up and leaned toward him, staring him in the eye. Alain didn’t move as I reached out and yanked his shorts down, releasing his hardening member. It wagged in front of me, a drop of pre-cum forming at its little pink eye. This penis was a beauty, it’s helmet almost purple, its proportions just right. I wrapped my fingers around the silky, veiny skin of the shaft and gently stroked it up and down. He uttered a half-hearted, “No, Madame, please…”
I pulled Alain closer, overcoming his unconvincing resistance.
Placing one hand on his ass, I leaned forward and took the big nut of his glans into my mouth. I continued to stroke his shaft with my hand as I sucked his cock, taking about half of it down my throat. I so love the feeling of a man’s hard-on fucking my mouth. I pulled off and looked up at him, our eyes locking, and I ran my tongue slowly from the root of his shaft up its length to its gleaming head. Cock sucking is sensual and I enjoy the submissive feeling of giving a man pleasure. I took him deep in my throat again, giving him permission to fuck my mouth. He groaned and put a hand on my head. He had capitulated."
"Like" my author page on Facebook to keep up-to-date on the publication of The First Lady: www.facebook.com/kmdylan
K M Dylan © 2016 | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
I half turned, and propping myself up on an elbow, smiled at him. His erection was plain to see, bulging against the nylon of his shorts, and I was as mesmerized as a kid looking at an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day. It was a reversal of our typical roles since women for millennia have been conditioned by social mores to be the coy ones. Why was that? Historically, it was typically positioned as an issue of morality and dignity. Being shamed as a slut makes most girls and women feel demeaned and a threat to to their social status. But I thought, maybe it was a way to keep women penned in. A woman’s ability to seduce is power. The old male power brokers wanted to keep that power contained, to clip our wings. My security agent was trying very hard to maintain his composure. He had said no, and no is supposed to mean no. Except this time it didn’t. I didn’t give a shit about the rules and social mores. I just wanted this man, badly. My inner slut was now in charge.
I sat up and leaned toward him, staring him in the eye. Alain didn’t move as I reached out and yanked his shorts down, releasing his hardening member. It wagged in front of me, a drop of pre-cum forming at its little pink eye. This penis was a beauty, it’s helmet almost purple, its proportions just right. I wrapped my fingers around the silky, veiny skin of the shaft and gently stroked it up and down. He uttered a half-hearted, “No, Madame, please…”
I pulled Alain closer, overcoming his unconvincing resistance.
Placing one hand on his ass, I leaned forward and took the big nut of his glans into my mouth. I continued to stroke his shaft with my hand as I sucked his cock, taking about half of it down my throat. I so love the feeling of a man’s hard-on fucking my mouth. I pulled off and looked up at him, our eyes locking, and I ran my tongue slowly from the root of his shaft up its length to its gleaming head. Cock sucking is sensual and I enjoy the submissive feeling of giving a man pleasure. I took him deep in my throat again, giving him permission to fuck my mouth. He groaned and put a hand on my head. He had capitulated."
"Like" my author page on Facebook to keep up-to-date on the publication of The First Lady: www.facebook.com/kmdylan
K M Dylan © 2016 | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Promotional video for the lotus, book two of the cult of beauty series
Have you watched the HOT trailer to The Lotus, book two of my erotic series about the sexual awakening of a supermodel? Youtube link: https://youtu.be/eemApe_WPYo
