| Author: | Luke Kelly | ISBN: | 1230000153141 |
| Publisher: | Horny Goat | Publication: | July 20, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Luke Kelly |
| ISBN: | 1230000153141 |
| Publisher: | Horny Goat |
| Publication: | July 20, 2013 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
"LUKE KELLY IS A MASTER OF THE GENRE." - AMAZON REVIEW
INCLUDED IN THE BACK: AN EXCERPT FROM "THE FAT GIRL" BY LUKE KELLY
I'm a photographer. During one of my people-watching sessions, my camera fell upon the beautiful Tara, a plump, curvy woman on her way back to work.
I ran to catch up, and then followed, taking dozens of pictures of her. I went back to the building the next day for more pictures and to introduce myself…but she beat me to it, finding me in the park across from her building and demanding to know why I was following her.
How could I tell her it was because she was so beautiful I didn't want to ever go a day without looking at her? I asked her out…and to my surprise, she accepted.
But she is wounded, this big, beautiful woman…and it falls to me to show her how beautiful she is…in as many positions as possible.
This short story is approximately 5,000 words long and is packed full of graphic and explicit depictions of sweaty, naughty sex with a big, beautiful woman. It is most definitely NOT intended for minors.
EXCERPT FROM THE STORY
She called at six and told me she was on her way; by six-thirty, she was knocking on my door.
I let her in, smiling and welcoming her to my place. I had dinner going -- my famous spaghetti and meatballs -- and the whole apartment smelled like basil and garlic and tomatoes. She took a deep sniff when she stepped inside.
"Smells great."
"Thanks," I said. "Come in, sit down."
She did, pulling a stool up to my high kitchen table, and I served two plates, complete with a nice red wine and breadsticks. I even lit a couple of candles to set the mood.
She tried the spaghetti, made that satisfying mmmm sound mid-chew, and told me how delicious it was after she finished chewing. I thanked her, and conversation built from there. We talked about her work, my work, the weather, the economy…whatever topic came up. Each one flowed naturally from one into the next, and by the time dinner was done and the wine was gone and the Manilow CD was on its second spin it felt like Tara and I had been friends forever.
"So," she said, leaning towards me. I could tell she was a little tipsy; we both were. "Why me?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Why you?"
She nodded. "Yeah, why me? I mean, I know what you said at the park, about me being stunning or whatever…but seriously, what's the real reason?"
"What do you mean 'the real reason'?"
She chuckled. "I may be a little tipsy," she said, "but I'm not stupid. C'mon…nobody follows around a fat girl like me because they think she's stunning. Did you think I was easy or something?"
"God no," I said.
"Pity me, then?"
I frowned at her. "Are you done?"
Her eyes met mine, and I thought for some reason that she was about to cry.
"I told you the truth," I said. "You are stunning. You're…you're a flower, a ran of sunlight, a baby's laugh…"
She snorted again. "A baby's laugh?"
I blushed. "Okay, maybe that's drawing it a little thick…but seriously, Tara, you're so beautiful I don't even know how to describe it."
"Is that so?" she said.
I nodded…and then she was up, coming around the table, and she kissed me.
It was like the air had been kicked from my lungs; I was in shock, my mind frozen…and then time whirred back into motion, and my mouth was opening and hers was opening and we were kissing, petting, and my hands were on her breasts, her beautiful, heavy breasts and she was moaning into my mouth and our tongues danced and I tasted the wine and pasta on her breath, tasted the lipstick on her mouth, tasted…
Ah God. There was so much input, so much to experience with her, and I lost myself in the deluge of sensation. She was I and I was she and when I got to my feet and pushed her toward the bedroom, she let me guide her, let me keep kissing her…
"LUKE KELLY IS A MASTER OF THE GENRE." - AMAZON REVIEW
INCLUDED IN THE BACK: AN EXCERPT FROM "THE FAT GIRL" BY LUKE KELLY
I'm a photographer. During one of my people-watching sessions, my camera fell upon the beautiful Tara, a plump, curvy woman on her way back to work.
I ran to catch up, and then followed, taking dozens of pictures of her. I went back to the building the next day for more pictures and to introduce myself…but she beat me to it, finding me in the park across from her building and demanding to know why I was following her.
How could I tell her it was because she was so beautiful I didn't want to ever go a day without looking at her? I asked her out…and to my surprise, she accepted.
But she is wounded, this big, beautiful woman…and it falls to me to show her how beautiful she is…in as many positions as possible.
This short story is approximately 5,000 words long and is packed full of graphic and explicit depictions of sweaty, naughty sex with a big, beautiful woman. It is most definitely NOT intended for minors.
EXCERPT FROM THE STORY
She called at six and told me she was on her way; by six-thirty, she was knocking on my door.
I let her in, smiling and welcoming her to my place. I had dinner going -- my famous spaghetti and meatballs -- and the whole apartment smelled like basil and garlic and tomatoes. She took a deep sniff when she stepped inside.
"Smells great."
"Thanks," I said. "Come in, sit down."
She did, pulling a stool up to my high kitchen table, and I served two plates, complete with a nice red wine and breadsticks. I even lit a couple of candles to set the mood.
She tried the spaghetti, made that satisfying mmmm sound mid-chew, and told me how delicious it was after she finished chewing. I thanked her, and conversation built from there. We talked about her work, my work, the weather, the economy…whatever topic came up. Each one flowed naturally from one into the next, and by the time dinner was done and the wine was gone and the Manilow CD was on its second spin it felt like Tara and I had been friends forever.
"So," she said, leaning towards me. I could tell she was a little tipsy; we both were. "Why me?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Why you?"
She nodded. "Yeah, why me? I mean, I know what you said at the park, about me being stunning or whatever…but seriously, what's the real reason?"
"What do you mean 'the real reason'?"
She chuckled. "I may be a little tipsy," she said, "but I'm not stupid. C'mon…nobody follows around a fat girl like me because they think she's stunning. Did you think I was easy or something?"
"God no," I said.
"Pity me, then?"
I frowned at her. "Are you done?"
Her eyes met mine, and I thought for some reason that she was about to cry.
"I told you the truth," I said. "You are stunning. You're…you're a flower, a ran of sunlight, a baby's laugh…"
She snorted again. "A baby's laugh?"
I blushed. "Okay, maybe that's drawing it a little thick…but seriously, Tara, you're so beautiful I don't even know how to describe it."
"Is that so?" she said.
I nodded…and then she was up, coming around the table, and she kissed me.
It was like the air had been kicked from my lungs; I was in shock, my mind frozen…and then time whirred back into motion, and my mouth was opening and hers was opening and we were kissing, petting, and my hands were on her breasts, her beautiful, heavy breasts and she was moaning into my mouth and our tongues danced and I tasted the wine and pasta on her breath, tasted the lipstick on her mouth, tasted…
Ah God. There was so much input, so much to experience with her, and I lost myself in the deluge of sensation. She was I and I was she and when I got to my feet and pushed her toward the bedroom, she let me guide her, let me keep kissing her…
