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EXCERPTS

A Taste Of Paradise

Herbert Grosshans

 Chapter One

 “Well, what do you say, Mr. Parker?”

Darrin Parker looked at the woman and smiled. These real estate agents always seemed so exited about the houses they showed their clients. Ms. Hanover was no exception, but she was better looking than the last agent. Mr. Albert John Brown. Mr. Always Unshaven Albert John Brown. Under the false assumption, it impressed women. What an absolute idiot! Parker shook his head, thinking about him.

“Well, Mr. Parker?” Ms. Hanover peered at him out of her baby-blue eyes. “Do you like the house?”

“It has character.” Parker admitted and grinned. “Lots of character.”

Ms. Hanover raised her pretty shoulders. “I know, the house is old, but it does have a certain charm. It just needs some cleaning up. I know a couple who do that kind of work. They’ll have it spic and span in no time.” She smiled sweetly. “The price is right. And it is available for immediate possession.”

Parker studied the old house and had to admit it held a certain attraction for him. The windows needed replacing. A new front door would be the first thing if he wanted to lock the place securely. A paint job on the old siding might do wonders to its appearance and trimming the old fruit trees and cedars certainly would improve the look of the yard. Cutting the grass would help tremendously.

“How long did you say this house has been vacant?”

The woman shrugged again. “Fifteen years. I’m not quite sure. I’d have to check and find out when Mrs. Applebee passed away. The house was occupied for a few months after her death by a couple I never met. A middle aged man and his daughter, who rented the house for awhile from the agency who owns it now.”

She lowered her voice, sounding conspiratorial. “Just between you and me. They want to get rid of the place. The sooner the better. You might be able to pick it up for a song.”

Parker laughed. “I’m not a good singer.”

 She slapped him on the arm. “You’re such a charmer, Darrin. You don’t mind if I call you Darrin?”

“Darrin’s fine. I’ve been called a lot worse.”

Her pearly laughter rang through the yard. “I like you, Darrin. You’re as refreshing as a lime wedge in a gin and tonic. This town needs someone like you. New blood. It’s becoming stagnant.” She threw him a sidelong glance. “I notice you don’t wear a ring, which means absolutely nothing, I know. Is there a Mrs. Parker?”

He shook his head. “Not anymore.” His eyes clouded over. “She divorced me a couple of years ago.”

“Sorry to hear that. Children?”

“No. She was too busy chasing her career.” And her boss.

“You hear that a lot these days.” She chuckled. “That’s why I never married. I’m on call seven days a week. No time left for socializing or a husband. Never mind kids.”

“A shame, actually.” He smiled at her. “A beautiful woman like you. Wasted like that.”

“Now, now, Mr. Parker. Darrin, I mean. Don’t be a chauvinist. Are you saying a beautiful woman should stay home, mopping and dusting all day long, and maybe raise a dozen children?”

He grinned. “Not a bad idea. And always be there for her husband. All soft and cuddly.”

She punched him hard.

“Ouch!” He rubbed his shoulder. “I guess you’re not soft and cuddly.”

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 Spirits At Home

Jim Deep 

       Robert and Becky Tilton had passed most of their lives without notice. Neither was a physical specimen worthy of a second look. They were not the life of the party, nor exceptionally intelligent nor talented. They were, in a word, average. They had raised three children and worked careers and belonged to the bowling league and paid their bills. Then in the summer after their youngest son moved out, they decided to sell their huge aging house and move into a three-bedroom apartment in an older building downtown. The apartment would have room for the kids who came to visit and was close to attractions they ‘could take the grandkids to as they got older. And it wouldn’t need a new furnace before next winter.

They had the yard sale and the closing and moved.

The apartment had seemed enormous empty. With a good deal of their furniture in it, the rooms did seem to shrink some, but it was still quite large. And it seemed lonely with just the two of them, but neither wanted to assume the responsibility of taking care of a pet that might complicate any plans to travel. So, they settled in and got to know their new neighbors.

* * * *

“You’re in Two?” A young mother asked them as they checked their mailbox.

Becky nodded and answered politely. “Yes, we just moved in over the weekend.”

The woman looked from one to the other. “You’ve already spent a night here?”

“Of course.”

The woman looked back at Robert. “And nothing unusual happened?”

“No. It was even quieter than our old house used to be.”

The young woman was astonished, but she didn’t say anything else.

* * * *

Over the next few weeks, Becky noticed she had lost several pounds and was regaining something of a figure.

She mentioned it to Robert. “I noticed, and I have to say, you look great. I like what I see.”

“Robert, haven’t you lost a few pounds too? You’re in great shape.”

He grinned and chuckled. “Must be from walking up the stairs to the apartment from the basement garage instead of waiting for that ancient creaking elevator.”

That night they shared a few minutes of cuddling, but fell asleep before anything serious happened. Their sleep was deep and uninterrupted. And as had become the norm, each had vivid dreams, neither telling the other just how vivid.

Becky discovered evidence they had apparently done more in the night besides cuddle, but she kept it to herself with a smile. She knew Robert spent himself in the night. But he didn’t go any further with it and she wondered if it was another sign that he was getting older than he wanted to be.

She usually remembered her dreams, and had since she’d been a little girl, but since they’d moved into the apartment, she only remembered bits and pieces of them. One particular dream she remembered having at least twice recently involved her being in the kitchen when a man came in and stood behind her as she was cooking. He began kissing her neck. Robert seldom did that, and never when she was cooking. He worried about distracting her; she might burn her hand or something. In her dream, Becky’s lover didn’t just stop with her neck. He undressed her while touching and kissing her. Then he reached around her, turned the stove off then turned her toward him with slow and gentle but irresistible force.

Try as she might, she could not remember anything further of the dream. Nor could she recall seeing his face. The only impression she got was that he was quite a bit taller than her...and that it wasn’t their new stove she had been cooking at. The unit had been older and taller. But it had been the kitchen in their new apartment, she was sure of that.

Recalling even that part of the dream aroused her in ways she hadn’t been in many years. And she enjoyed that sensation.

Later in the kitchen as she started supper, she felt a vague sense of deja vu when she put the skillet on the stove and sprinkled some seasoning into the oil as it heated. Then she felt a flutter on the side of her neck.

She shivered and tried to look out of the corner of her eye. For a second, she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or awake. When the oil began to sizzle, the feeling passed.

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Love Haunted Them

Chris Cumo

 Tableau One

      A flash of lightning illuminated the road just long enough for Jennifer Walton to see her. The girl, who couldn't have been any older than eighteen, must have been standing in the rain for some time. Yet, Jennifer hadn't noticed her earlier. It was as though she had precipitated out of the rain. Jennifer wasn't the type of person who ordinarily picked up hitchhikers, but the girl looked so forlorn and helpless that she felt obliged to help. She pulled over and rolled down the passenger window. “Where are you going?”

“Groves Point.”

“Me too.” Jennifer didn't see this as a coincidence. Where else could she go? There was no other town for another twenty miles. “Get in. I'll give you a ride.”

Jennifer gave her new companion a quick look, trying hard not to let on that she was scrutinizing her. The girl looked entirely too thin, even prepubescent in appearance. Her long black hair, beat down by the rain, clung to her face and shoulders.

“Do you live in Groves Point?” She looked intently at her.

“Yes, by the old cemetery.” She reached for the rearview mirror. “Do you mind?” she asked. “I want to check my hair after the rain drenched me.”

At that moment, Jennifer realized what troubled her. The young woman's hair was flawless. Aside from the fact that it was wet, it was neatly parted in the middle and descended nearly to her shoulders. Yet the rest of her body—everything in fact—was dry. How could that be? Jennifer looked at her, hoping to find an answer in her face.

“You look fine,” she said as she in turn reached for the rearview mirror, intent on recalibrating it to the traffic behind her. Before she could touch it though, she froze long enough to really glance in the mirror. It was now slanted toward her passenger, and Jennifer should have been able to see her reflection in the mirror. Instead, she saw nothing. Glancing quickly to the side, she saw the girl. Taking a deep breath, she looked in the mirror and again saw nothing. The waif had no reflection in the mirror. Jennifer's heart raced, and a lump formed in her throat. Her hands began to sweat. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her fingers ached. She tried furtively to glance at her passenger to make sure she was really there, only to see that she was grinning at her.

“Are you all right?” asked the girl. “You look as though you've seen a ghost.”

She seemed to have sucked all the oxygen from the air as Jennifer struggled to regain her breath.

“No,” she said forcefully as though a firm tone of voice would banish her peculiar thoughts. “I've just been driving all day and am a little tired.”

Yes, that's it. I'm tired, and my mind is playing tricks on me. There's nothing odd about this girl.

“Do you know anything about the old cemetery?” the wan being ventured, betraying no emotion in her voice.

“Not a thing,” replied Jennifer. “I'm new to Groves Point. This will be my first day in town. I'm moving here from Chicago.” Jennifer talked freely now, hoping that a flood of words would wash away her fears.

“Chicago,” repeated the girl. “You're in for a shock. Groves Point in a tiny town.”

“I know, but I think I'll enjoy the slower pace of life here.”

“People who come to Groves Point never leave,” said the girl. “They live their lives and then die, all within the space of a few square miles.”

She certainly doesn't talk like an eighteen year old, Jennifer thought. Maybe the fact that she lived near the old cemetery made her so morbid.

The girl brought Jennifer out of her reverie. “Look at the sign. We're entering Groves Point.”

Perhaps because it was night and because the rain fell in thick sheets across the windshield, Jennifer felt a little depressed, and her first view of the town was disappointing. She had known it would be small, but she hadn't thought it would be this small. She drove past a gas station and then through a subdivision of little brick bungalows, following the girl's directions.

“Drive just a bit further, and we'll be at my house.

The old cemetery came into view, its mournful tombstones tottering where the ground had shifted. In contrast to the smallness of the town, Jennifer thought the cemetery enormous. Countless generations of town dwellers must have been entombed there.

“Bet you didn't think the cemetery would be so big,” said the child-like creature as though she read Jennifer's mind. Once more, she flashed her eerie grin as if to say, “I know many secrets about this old town.”

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Sex On The Beach

HH Self 

Water lapped at her bottom as he carried her toward the beach. Muscular arms rippled, pulling her closer so their lips could meet. Locked in a kiss, his strides moved them closer to the white sands. The lagoon sparkled with silver crested ripples dancing with the warm ocean breeze. Two more steps made it obvious he was as naked as the woman in his arms. Also obvious, he was no little man. One of her arms held tight to his neck, her kisses answering his. Her other hand lowered to capture his still enlarging shaft between her palm and the swell of her ass. As she massaged the willing captive, his strides were not alone in lengthening. The water licking at his ankles, she raised her hand to his head, her fingers combing his dark thick hair. “Make love to me. Right here. Right now.”

“As you wish, my love” He lowered her to the wet sand. Gentle waves whispered at her body as his strong hands explored her golden skin. His kisses moved up her inner thigh until a flickering tongue explored every moist fold of her vulva. When her form writhed in the delight of water, sun and a man lavishing her body with caresses, her fingers locked into his thick curls and pulled him up to her, a blanket of passion, desire and love. He didn’t need a hand of guidance as the precise arch of hip placed the tip of his shaft so it nudged open her engorged nether lips. Their gazes locked. With a slow gentle motion, the huge member glided into a body shivering with ecstasy. His “I love you” answered with a sigh, a murmured reflection of a woman losing herself in a torrent of perfection.

They were too far away to understand each word, but those had to be what floated from the couple’s lips.

Susan shifted carefully behind the rock concealing her, not wanting the couple to know of her presence, not wanting the unfolding rapture to stop. She tried to dry her moist palms on her shorts, careful not to let her touch linger too long or pull her too deep into her own need. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Chris catching up with her. She pressed one finger to her lips and curled the fingers of her other hand slowly, calling him to her. A good thing the couple making love seemed lost in the heat of passion, because Chris’s efforts were half assed until he caught sight of the man and woman rolling over. She now rode astride him, her body undulating in what appeared slow motion, but the gasps of air her half-open mouth consumed, told of an onrushing uncontrollable fire.

Susan placed a finger to Chris’s lips, “I don’t want to disturb them. Aren’t they lovely together?”

Chris’s gaze locked to the couple. “She is beautiful. Mm, look at the size of those tits.”

“Look at how much love and passion is in every caress.” She reached out, and her fingers traced down Chris’s less than muscle-bound arm. “Does it give you any ideas?”

“Oh, you better believe it does.” He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his erection with one hand as he pulled Susan’s head toward him with the other. “Hurry up, and suck my cock so I can watch that hotty taking it good and those gorgeous big tits bouncing every time she impales herself.” He wiggled the erection in his hand, but his gaze stayed locked on the perfect blonde whose body glistened with a sheen of passion-born sweat.

In Susan’s mind, she stood up, slapped Chris, and as she walked off, the large man came over and pounded him into the sand for spying on them. However, she took hold of the erection with one hand and gave its tip a couple of quick licks. As she finished with the second swipe of her tongue, Chris shot two short spurts.

She didn’t bother putting away the flaccid penis. No doubt Chris would stay and try to get hard again as the woman, now on all fours, wiggled her ass. The man pulled her hair, arching her head back, as the thrust pummeled into her. “Oh God yes,” the woman cried out as repeated ravenous thrusts caused her body to tremble with every entry, her eyes begging for the man’s return within her at every withdrawal.

Susan’s gaze shifted from the couple to Chris, her nipples ached for his touch, the wetness of her palms overshadowed by the sodden heat between her thighs. “Chris,” a whisper so soft she barely perceived it herself. She knew it made no difference if whispered or screamed, as she slipped away unnoticed by all.

Slow steps interrupted by wishful glances over her shoulder took her back to the hotel. There she would be safe, to dream, to transform into the perfect size six, chest-heavy body it seemed all men wanted. With that kind of body in his arms, Chris would express passion and romance. He would want to make love to her on a beach instead of…