Includes the books Tramp Stamp Club: My Slut Wife Training and Tramp Stamp Club: How It All Began, PLUS A BONUS Chapter Excerpt from Tramp Stamp Club Profiles: Karen.
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Warning: 18+ ONLY This title contains erotic situations, graphic language, oral, bisexual, threesomes, gang bang, femdom, dominatrix, slut wife training
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EXCERPT:
Ellen couldn’t help but laugh. This was one unique man, she thought. She watched with even greater curiosity as he
unbuttoned each of the tiny blue attachments on his Brooks Brother’s shirt. Curly blond hairs pierced through his broad
chest. Without removing his shirt, simply leaving it open, he unleashed his belt and reached for his zipper.
“Here let me help you with that!” Ellen rushed to assist.
Kneeling in front of him, she faced the zipper head on. With her fingers she slowly pulled the metal clasp down. In
search of her face, his sprang from the enclosure like a beast having its cage door finally opened. Ellen met its
gaze without fear. It was a bit longer than any she had before, but its girth was easily sustainable. Reaching her tongue
from her mouth to test its flavor, she tickled the tip. The beast sprung to life with even more fury at her touch. The
taste was acceptable to Ellen, her mouth opened to allow it entrance, her tongue reaching out to offer it welcome. She
drew it into her mouth eagerly, wetting its length with her saliva as it aimed for her throat.
Not so fast, she thought as she withdrew from its grip on her mouth. With hunger rising between her legs, she prepared
this , running her wet tongue around its head down to the curly blond hairs at its base. Ellen felt the strong veins
along the side of his with her tongue as though they were Braille writings, explaining the map of her future. The
fought with desperation to find its way back into her plush mouth, but Ellen denied it entrance until its head began
to weep with salty tears. When it began producing its own moisture to her satisfaction, she allowed it back into its
desired location. It plunged into her mouth with a vengeance, and Jonathon’s hands on the top of her head guided Ellen
back and forth on it, massaging its length. Her mouth full, Ellen used her hands to slide Jonathon’s black slacks down his
legs, feeling the muscular thighs beneath her fingers, the waves of blond hairs heavily coating them. Her fingers barely
touched his thighs and Ellen smiled noticing the shiver that physically ran up the nerves in his thighs. When his legs
were free of cloth, she turned the bulk of her attention back to the monster in her mouth. Running her tongue in swirls
around it she felt the first notion of its purpose, the beginnings of the slippery mixture spilt into her throat enticing
her to draw more. Incensed by the taste, Ellen increased her pressure. The muscles in her face pulling Jonathon’s in
and out of her mouth with growing suction. Her hands cupped his tight at its base and rolled them between her
fingers. Jonathon’s hands were still on her head urging her to complete the transaction. As Ellen’s suction increased,
his snake spat the first stream of its venom onto her tonsils. Ellen maneuvered her tongue to greet the next splash, and
the final slow meandering remnants of Jonathon’s .
Jonathon had not uttered a single word; simply being able to breathe was the most he could manage during Ellen’s absorption
of his soul. That is how he felt. He felt that she had taken his and pulled his very core from him. At twenty years
old, he was now obsessed with Ellen Deveraux. For the rest of his life he would be at her every beck, her every call, and
her every whim.
The couple was startled by the dim sunlight that filtered suddenly into the tiny cottage.
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