Blast From the Past by Nic Saint

day we have to get our own place,” he suggested as he nibbled her earlobe.
    “One day soon,” she agreed.
    And that that day would come, she didn’t doubt for a moment.
    “Let’s go down before your mom comes up.”
    “Let’s not,” she said, letting her hand slide down his ripped belly to his cock, wet with her juices. It twitched under her fingers, and before long was rising to the occasion once again. She fixed him with a sultry gaze. “Let’s fuck, Brad Fuller.”
    He gave her a sly smile, heat already making his face flush, and allowed her to push him down onto the bed while she straddled him, then easily slipped his cock inside her once more.
    “Amy! Are you coming?” Mom’s voice drifted up from downstairs.
    Amy’s eyes fluttered closed as she let herself sink onto Brad’s towering girth and started rolling her hips back and forth, Brad’s hands firmly clasping her pert tits.
    “Yes!” she cried. “Oh, God, yes! Yes! Yes! YESSSS!”

    THE END

    Thanks for reading this story! If you liked it, don’t hesitate leaving a review where you found it. And if you want to read more stuff of mine, subscribe to my newsletter and get a free book (and don’t worry—I won’t spam you!):  

    Nic Saint newsletter .

Excerpt From:

    RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S RELUCTANT BRIDE

    CHAPTER ONE

    The wind was sweeping across the deserted plain, and Joanna’s hair billowed and swirled around her oval face, her eyes closing against the nippiness in the air. She should have brought her cap, she knew, but had wanted to feel the forces of nature whipping at her unfettered frame.
    These days, she didn’t mind the cold so much as the humidity. Strange, how the change in season could seep into your bones and chill you to the core. It seemed only yesterday that a summer’s breeze had wafted along the outstretched meadows surrounding the patch of forest that was her home, and then suddenly winter was upon the land and touched everything with its icy tendrils of frost.
    She stared out across the vast space, blinking the tears from her eyes, and thought she’d never felt this pervading sadness as keenly as she did now. Ever since her husband had left, leaving her to fend for herself in a world that was not her own, she’d managed to cope. She was at the end of her rope now. Much further and it would all be over. All hope lost. A life, fleeting as a castle made of sand, would end, and no one would ever know. Or care.
    Joanna blinked and wrapped her shawl tighter around herself, planting her feet firmly in the soggy soil. Rain had arrived along with the first cold, and the scent of decaying leaves had mingled with wood stoves being kindled. Darkness set in earlier, the sun stealthily creeping away before the moon’s ascent.
    I need to get out of here.
    The thought suddenly stood out amongst the welter swirling in her head.
    I need to get out of here, or I won’t survive another winter.
    But where could she go? This was where she’d lived her whole life. Now only her father remained, her brothers having moved away when Mom died. They all had families of their own now—she really couldn’t impose upon them.
    Crouching down, she plucked a lone wildflower, the last remnants of summer lingering. This was how she felt. A single flower surviving against all the odds. She’d lived a sheltered life with Jonathan, safe in the comfort of their home on the edge of Lincoln Forest. Now that he was gone, she found herself alone and pining for the family they’d never had.
    Her phone hadn’t rung in weeks, and even when she passed through town to pick up groceries, all her eyes met were curious glances, cursory nods, or brief words murmured in greeting. They all wondered what had induced her husband to up and leave when he did.
    Some of the women eyed her with disinterest, others with pity, still others with the guarded look of one fearful of the competition. She was, after all, still in her prime. Five years of marriage had done nothing to