Tuesday, April 17, 2012

"Trust Me" : The Romance Novel You Will Not Find At The Bookstore

As I am getting cataract surgery on my left eye today, I am time delay posting this replay of a humorous post I did from a year ago.  I hope you will enjoy. Caution: This post is rated R.  If you knew the person who sent this post in an email, you would understand why. :-)_________________________________________________________
One great thing about being a tribble [listening and tweeting during the Hugh Hewitt radio show] is you have a lot of great tribble friends. This post is via one of those friends,  ToniMarie from Arizona. ToniMarie's twitter name  is @Mrs_ESTMR  You may want to follow her on twitter. Then again, after reading this post, you may not.  :-)


@Mrs_ESTMR  is a wonderful person, she is an awesome Mom, she is great patriotic American, and she makes the best tortillas in the world but, and all tribbles knew this but was coming, you sometimes [how can I put this] have to keep  children far away from her tweets.
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Without further ado, an excerpt from the fantasy novel 'Trust Me':

He held me firmly but gently just above my elbow and guided me into a room. I had never been there but I knew this was his room. I knew what he was going to do to me, and I knew I was going to let him. The door closed quietly and we were alone. He approached silently from behind and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear. "Just relax."

Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and caressing upward along my tender calves slowly and steadily. My breath caught in my throat. I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care. His touch was so experienced, so sure. When his hands moved under my skirt to my thighs I gave a slight shudder and partly closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. His knowing fingers continued upward across my abdomen, my ribcage. And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply. Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, his teasing hands quickly moved to my shoulders and slid down my tingling spine. My entire body was throbbing when he discovered my pink, lace thong.

Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant. "This is a man," I thought. A man used to taking charge. A man not used to taking "No" for an answer. A man who would tell me what he wanted. A man who would look into my soul and say...

"Okay all done. Here's your purse, ma'am. Have a nice flight."

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