And Eating It Too by Marilyn Lee by Marilyn Lee - Read Online

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And Eating It Too - Marilyn Lee

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Chapter One

The sight that greeted me when I arrived to ring in the New Year at the mansion of a longtime friend left me momentarily speechless. The dimly lit living room held numerous couples and ménages in various states of undress openly having sex under ubiquitous mistletoes. The muted Christmas carols were nearly drowned out by all the moans, groans, and sounds of lust filling the air.

There was even a couple copulating at the foot of the beautifully decorated Christmas tree that held the place of honor in the middle of the large room. Damn. Wasn’t Gordon ever going to tire of throwing wild orgies masquerading as holiday parties?

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve always prided myself on being a woman unafraid to try new things. I’ve dated men from various cultural backgrounds. My late husband had been a handsome Filipino five years my junior. Since his death ten years earlier, I’d had my share of deliciously wicked one night stands that left me covered in hickeys and singing I’ve Had the Time of My Life. Hell, I’ve even been to and participated in a few Jack and Jill parties that got so out of hand, I woke the next morning sprawled in bed next to men young enough to qualify me for Cougar-in-Chief of Unashamedly Curvy, the social club for adventurous full-figured women I’d help found twenty years earlier.

I’m no prude. Still after waking the morning after my thirty-ninth birthday bash three years earlier to find myself pinned to my bed with a hard-bodied twenty something hunk enjoying me raw while my teenage daughter slept two doors down, I took stock of myself. Although I’d enjoyed every single stroke at the time, I later shuddered at how irresponsible it was to engage in unprotected sex with a stranger while my daughter was home. I reluctantly decided that if I didn’t want her to follow in my footsteps (and I didn’t), it just might be time to settle down and act my age. And start thinking about remarrying instead of engaging in an endless series of meaningless sexual escapades that while physically satisfying, did nothing to assuage the emotional ache and emptiness I’d felt since Palo’s death.

Even though the thought of kicking off the New Year with a no holds barred sexual romp appealed to the barely repressed wild woman in me, lately I’d begun to fantasize about men closer to my age. Well, actually one man in particular; a hard-bodied hunk I occasionally encountered in the lobby of the building that housed my accounting business. He appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties and was sexy as hell.

After seeing him, I found men in their twenties no longer attracted me and I’d lost all taste for the sexual exhibitionism I’d enjoyed before my marriage. Okay. I’ll admit I’d come to Gordon’s fuck–a–thon hoping to meet someone capable of knocking my sexual socks off with enough force to make me tear off my thong and bare my pussy for immediate and repeated plunder, but not with a room full of other naked people looking on.

Granted, after seven months of celibacy, I wanted and needed to be fucked. Hell, I wanted to be banged all damned night, but not in front of an audience. So I took a last look at the lustful scene before me, caught my breath, closed my mouth, and backed out of the living room doorway. And right into a hard male body.

A pair of warm lips brushed my ear before a deep baritone sent a tingle down my spine. You’re going the wrong way, sugar.

My heart raced. Don’t ask me how since I’d never heard him speak but I just knew it was him. Him being the hard bodied