Taboo Tuesday

Taboo Tuesday bloghop

An excerpt from Road Trip (a dark erotic story from Crossroads)

… he pulled her by her hair and slammed her over the hood of the car as he fumbled with his belt. “Please…” Amanda squirmed on the hood. As he drew the belt back, she covered her exposed asscheeks with her hands.

“Move your hands. Put them on the hood, bitch.”

“Please, no,” she begged…

Craig’s hand slid up her thigh and found its way to her shaved pussy… he slid his finger inside her and began fucking her with it. “You dirty fucking whore. Make that married pussy cum all over my fingers… Afterward, I’m going to whip your ass for being a disobedient whore…”

Amanda bucked against Craig’s fingers, her hips seemingly having a mind of their own as her orgasm overtook her…

Release day…

It is release day for a short story collection I’ve put together. However, the Amazon version of my book is MIA. I submitted it Sunday, thinking it was plenty of time to make the release, but it’s still “In Review.” I could postpone the release date, but then Amazon could end up rejecting the book for any multitude of real or fabricated reasons, and I’ll have wasted more time.

I uploaded to Smashwords yesterday, and it took exactly four minutes for the book to be available in their library. (Although for some reason, I do seem to have the literary equivalent of a “green thumb” when it comes to getting through their sometimes frustrating autovetter process.)

This scenario is one of the reasons behind having an Erotic Authors Guild. Now, Amazon doesn’t care about erotic authors individually… a whole Guild of them, probably not all that much more. But, we do have the opportunity to educate others about the pros and cons of the different book publishing sites.

The Guild’s focus should not be “let’s boycott Amazon.” As a director, my personal stance and opinions are going to differ from other directors. Plus, it’s not in the interest of our authors as a whole at this time. But it is important that we educate one another, and those around us, about alternatives that are available.

Thus far this year, I’ve had a book pulled from the Amazon shelf for an entire week, because a known book pirate maliciously lied and claimed ownership of the cover art. A clueless Amazon representative even told me at one point that I needed to “reimburse” the pirate for my use of the cover art. In the same fiasco, they even suspended my ENTIRE Amazon bibliography for nearly a full day, forcing me to e-mail them a statement that I “agree not to post material which violates their polices” (which I had not done in the first place.) Next, I made a price change to another book, and that simple adjustment also took several days to go through. And now, a release deadline which was partially sabotaged by their process.

This is clearly not how a merchant should be treating its customers. I urge extreme caution to anyone who would write books for a living, and tie their livelihood to putting all of their eggs into such a basket. If we were treated like this by any other service provider in our lives–our cable provider, our physician, our auto mechanic, etc.–we’d likely discontinue use of their services on the spot.

So, I am going forward with the release of my book “Crossroads” on Smashwords. If Amazon removes its collective head from its posterior and gets the book up, fine. I’ll provide the link. If not, fine as well. Either way, I’ll still encourage my readers to support Smashwords which actually cares about its members.

If you haven’t checked out Smashwords, I highly recommend it. Besides the obvious attraction that they’re not Amazon, they have a decent interface and you can use Paypal. If there is a “learning curve” with actually getting the downloaded books onto your e-reader, I will be happy to help.

Thanks all, and happy reading…

Crossroads: a collection by Dylan Cross



Crossroads is the second story collection by Dylan Cross, one of the masters of the “edge erotica” genre. If you’re looking for a touchy-feely romantic storyline, this isn’t it.

In “Secretary’s Day,” a sexy but naive secretary gets “help” from her boss with her financial problems, but the payment plan may be more than she bargained for.

“Amanda’s Road Trip” follows the continuing tale of the hapless blackmailed housewife from “Amanda’s Descent”… as this time, her tormenter enjoys her in, on and around her car.

In “Closure,” Kevin and his ex-girlfriend’s breakup wasn’t exactly under the best of terms, but Sami is eager to do whatever it takes to set things straight. The fact that Kevin is now happily married won’t slow her down either…

These stories, plus several thrilling and chilling shorts, will make for a sizzling bedtime read!


Get the book today:

Visit Dylan’s official page to get your copy of Crossroads…

As a special bonus…

Crossroads includes the story Amanda’s Road Trip, which continues the misadventures of the hapless heroine from Amanda’s Descent…

Crossroads excerpt

About the author

Dylan Cross is an independent author of erotica. His titles include Fair Trade, Amanda’s Descent and Back to School. Cross is a former Marine and software developer, and is a founding member of the Erotic Authors Guild. He can also be found online at



Crossroads — Cover Reveal

a collection by Dylan Cross

CrossroadsEvery so often, a book comes along that jostles its readers romantically and makes us all want to fall in love.

Crossroads is not that book.

This is the second collection of short, dark stories by Dylan Cross. If you’re squeamish or easily offended, these tales are not for you. From a secretary in a hopeless situation, to a sexy but psychotic ex seeking closure, to a blackmailed housewife… prepare yourself for a thrill ride. Just be forewarned–this is not your mother’s erotica.

Crossroads excerpt


Exclusive: Crossroads contains the Dylan Cross novella “Road Trip” detailing the further misadventures of blackmailed housewife Amanda!

… he pulled her by her hair and slammed her over the hood of the car as he fumbled with his belt.  “Please…”  Amanda squirmed on the hood.  As he drew the belt back, she covered her exposed asscheeks with her hands.

“Move your hands.  Put them on the hood, bitch.”  Then he was holding her phone and dialing it.  With horror, she saw that the phone was “Calling MARK”.

“Please, no,” she begged… he thumbed the speakerphone icon and set the phone down, just as her husband answered.

“H-hi honey,” Amanda forced herself to sound normal, even as Craig’s hand slid up her thigh and found its way to her shaved pussy… he slid his finger inside her and began fucking her with it. 

 She knew how dirty this was—talking to her husband on the phone while his best friend played with her pussy.   Mark started speaking to someone else on his end.  Craig took this opportunity to move in “for the kill,” both his hands working her furiously.  He leaned over and whispered, “You dirty fucking whore.  Make that married pussy cum all over my fingers… Afterward, I’m going to whip your ass for being a disobedient whore…”

As her husband continued talking, she bucked against Craig’s fingers, her hips seemingly having a mind of their own as her orgasm overtook her…

This is a must-read for fans of Amanda’s Descent!



Watch for Crossroads–coming soon!

Dylan Cross is an independent author of erotica titles including Amanda’s Descent and Back to School. He is a former Marine and software developer, and a founding member of the Erotic Authors Guild.

Find Dylan Cross online:

Official page:



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Thinking of counting on Amazon to pay the bills? Think again…

If you’re a fulltime author depending upon your writing to pay the bills and you’re putting all your eggs in the Amazon basket, think again.

Many of you followed my saga last week with Amazon, detailed in my previous blog posts. For the Cliff’s Notes version: I went after a notorious book pirate and partially crippled his ill-gotten ad revenue. In retaliation, he sent Amazon a complaint, falsely claiming to be the owner of one of my book covers. Amazon immediately pulled the book from the shelves, and even briefly disabled my entire account. It was next to impossible to speak to an actual person. My constituents in the Erotic Authors Guild wrote strongly-worded letters as well.

Although the account was down for a day, the book itself wasn’t restored until this morning–over a week later. No apology was issued. Throughout the entire process, they were indifferent. They were willing to accept the unsubstantiated word of a known book pirate–who likely costs them thousands of dollars in lost ebook revenue. It was sickening.

The book in question is an earlier work of mine… it’s a short story, just 13 pages long, it has 2 1/2 stars review, and it’s probably sold a dozen copies if I’m lucky. In other words, not something I’d be likely to be holding up a sign in front of Amazon headquarters over.

But what if this weren’t the case? What if I were a full-time author, of the caliber of Carrie Ann Ryan, Jasinda Wilder or Shayne McClendon? And what if writing were my day job, and I counted on it to pay my mortgage? And, finally, what if the work in question wasn’t a low-end short story? What if it was my leading bestseller? And, what if, to make things even worse, I’d been foolish enough to list it in Amazon’s KDP Select program?

The answer, of course, is that I basically would have lost a week’s revenue. Not to mention a likely plunge in the book’s rankings, if and when Amazon bothered to correct their mistake. Ask anyone, in any job, if they’d mind losing a week’s pay. Think any of them will be ok with it?

Boycotting Amazon isn’t a viable option. If you want to be successful in this business, at least at this present time, you have to go through them. Smashwords nets an author about 1/3 of what Amazon does. But we also shouldn’t put all of our eggs into one basket. Explore some of those other options–and, for goodness’ sake, stay away from KDP Select. Sooner or later, people will grow tired of being mistreated and will start to look elsewhere.

The alternative is scary. Those highly successful authors whom you see? All it takes is one disgruntled fan, one jealous competitor. A single bogus complaint to Amazon can cripple your entire livelihood.


Update on Amazon issues…

After nearly a full day and e-mails from two Guild members to Amazon execs, they finally unsuspended my account. However, my book “Victoria’s Other Secret,” which was the focus of Mr. Mccrea’s attack, is still in a “blocked” status. Following is the e-mail I sent to Amazon:


Thank you, but a few questions:

Why is my book “Victoria’s Other Secret” still in a blocked status? Again, there is no infringement with this book or its cover. I’ve asked repeatedly (and I reiterate my request): please send me some evidence that anything in this work infringes upon someone else’s work. To date, all anyone at Amazon has been able to send is the name and e-mail address of the person who made the complaint. I’m well aware that the complaint was made, and I’ve also submitted plenty of evidence that the complaint was made maliciously. I’ve even provided documentation showing that the complainant runs a book piracy website which HURTS AMAZON, as people can download the copyrighted books there for free.
Second, what about my potential lost royalties from my entire account being suspended for nearly a full day?  I have six other books for sale in the KDP store, none of which were even accused of any sort of infringement. Why were they taken down?
Third, how about some sort of apology for your error?
I’d also still like to speak to the supervisor of the representative known as “Lou R.” who was completely rude and insulting, who refused to help me, even suggesting that I owed the book pirate some sort of restitution.
Again, you need to seriously take a look at how you do business. As one of the directors of the Erotic Authors Guild, I’m often in the position to give advice and assistance to newer authors… some of whom could potentially be the next E.L. James, Jasinda Wilder or Shayne McClendon. Right now, I’d feel very uncomfortable recommending Amazon KDP to them, given the events of the past 72 hours. Some of these people write as their primary source of income. Amazon’s actions toward me have demonstrated that a bully or disgruntled reader can simply make a bogus complaint, and get someone’s account suspended at any time. This interferes with an author’s livelihood. You need to show more support for the people who make you successful, and less support for book pirates who actually steal from you.
Dylan Cross

Amazon’s new policy (no, not that one–I’m talking about their pro-bullying policy)

Recently, a blurb circulated the social media networks and blogs, purporting to contain details about recent changes to Amazon’s policy on erotica book covers. It was identified as being a fake. However, here’s a story which is 100% factual.

I’m a director of the Erotic Authors Guild, and also run a collection of Facebook groups designed to assist the erotica genre. Recently, I became aware of a website called “” which allows its members to share and download copyrighted material… including hundreds of books by erotica authors.  As a Guild director, I e-mailed the offending website’s ISP to file DMCA complaints about the pirated books. I also noted several ad sponsors on the pirate’s website, including major brand names such as Allstate, Zipcar and Legalzoom. I notified these companies via social media that their ads were running on a site which was showcasing stolen ebooks. Many of them pulled their ads and blacklisted the site.

In retaliation, the site owner, Travis Mccrea filed a false complaint against me with Amazon. He claimed that he was the owner of the cover art for one of my books. (He is not… the work was obtained under a Creative Commons license, and Mr. Mccrea has no affiliation with it whatsoever.) However, rather than attempting to ascertain the facts, Amazon blocked my book. They told me they would not restore it until Mr. Mccrea confirmed that the matter had been resolved. (As he doesn’t own the book cover, and made the false complaint out of malice, it’s unlikely that he’d provide such a confirmation.)

I requested that Amazon provide details to back up the claim of licensing violation. They provided nothing other than repeating Mr. Mccrea’s name and address. At one point, they even suggested that I owe Mr. Mccrea “restitution” of some sort.

Ironically, Mr. Mccrea and his website probably cost Amazon tens of thousands of dollars in unseen revenue. People frequent his website and download books for free rather than purchasing them from outlets such as Amazon. These stolen ebooks are from all genres, not just erotica. My work with the Guild, on the other hand, has called attention to this issue and has enabled dozens of authors to get their stolen works taken off the site, thus benefitting the bookselling sites including Amazon.

Yet, they took Mr. Mccrea at his word when he claimed to own my book cover, with no substantiation whatsoever, and treated me like a criminal. My inquiries were met with canned responses from “Lou,” a service rep who seems to have no common sense whatsoever. My demands to speak with a supervisor to date have been ignored.

Then, I checked my email and found that my Amazon KDP account has been suspended:  ”It has come to our attention that you have uploaded material through your account for which you did not have the necessary rights.” At no point, despite my repeated requests, was I ever presented with any evidence that I had uploaded any such material.

I have written to the Amazon CEO, Jeff Bezos, as his e-mail address is the only point of contact for a person that I could find at Amazon.

What’s the moral of this story? From where I’m sitting, it seems to be that Amazon has a system which could be used to enable bullying to a frightening degree. If someone wants to bully an author whom they dislike, they merely have to send a complaint to Amazon, making up a claim of plagiarism or licensing infringement. By Amazon’s own admission in their e-mail to me, “We don’t involve ourselves in third party disputes and therefore have removed the availability of the book through our systems until this matter is resolved.”

How do they define “resolved”? From the same e-mail:

“[A]ll involved parties must contact us via”

In other words, they will consider the complaint to be substantiated until the bully retracts his or her frivolous statement. As the bully’s action is designed to be malicious, this would equate to “never” in the vast majority of cases. Thus, any author’s books (and entire account) can be pulled at any time, for any made-up reason, resulting in lost revenue, reviews and ranking while the author has to jump through numerous hoops (and deal with Amazon’s pathetic excuse for a customer service team) to get the matter resolved.

Authors who write for a living, and who are foolish enough to put all their eggs in the Amazon basket, tread with caution. The moral of the story here is, all it takes is one single hater to interfere with your entire livelihood. And Amazon obviously doesn’t care as long as the revenue keeps coming in.

Dylan Cross



Just Throw

“Just throw whatever you’ve got.”

If you haven’t seen the Kevin Costner classic, “For Love of the Game,” I recommend it. It’s one of those movies which is a metaphor for just about everything.

In an instrumental scene, Costner’s character is pitching a no-hitter against the Yankees. He feels like he is burned out and has nothing left. His catcher (John C. Reilly) tells him “just throw whatever you’ve got left.”

The metaphor applies to just about everything we deal with in life, whether as an author, a professional, a family person. At times like these, we just need to get out there and do what we do best.

Just throw.

Stroke of Luck “got milf” excerpt…

Brian was thankful to be back in the sanctity of his own apartment.  This had been a strange day, although not in an unpleasant way.


He’d barely settled in when a knock came at the door.


His pulse immediately quickened.  His neighbor, Connie, stood in the doorway.  She was wearing a pair of green gym-shorts, and a white cotton tank top.  Brian had to scrutinize it twice to ascertain that it was, indeed, monogrammed with the phrase “got milf?”


In Brian’s opinion, the acronym in question had certainly been devised with the blonde divorcee in mind.  Although several years his senior (one of her sons was just seven years younger than Brian), Connie was in great shape, thanks to a regimen of aerobics and yoga, and was curvy in all the right places.  Her breasts were larger and still firm.  Tanned, well-toned abs, an ass which wouldn’t quit, and a shapely pair of legs rounded out the delicious package.  Yes, Brian reflected, some things definitely got better with age.  His eyes gave her a once-over (which ended up being more of a thrice-over) before settling back on the suggestive monogram on the front of her tank… and the hard nipples which were standing erect like twin sentinels beneath the cotton material.


He suddenly realized she was talking.  “—with something?” she was saying.


“Huh?  Um, sorry, ma’am, I—”


“Up here, honey,” she laughed as she grabbed his chin and pulled his head up, tearing his gaze away from her chest.  A new thrill raced through him.  Although Connie had been the focal point of countless jack-off sessions in his shower, this was the first time they’d actually ever touched.


“I was just saying, do you have time to be a good neighbor and help me with something.”  She looked at him—into him—her eyes direct and unwavering.


“Uh… yes, ma’am.”


“I’m Connie,” she introduced herself, as if he hadn’t uttered the name dozens of times as he leaned against the tiles of his shower wall.  “I don’t think we’ve even formally met…”


“Uh…no…”  Her hand had dropped away, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact.  It wasn’t hard—Connie’s hazel eyes were cool and beautiful.  “H-how can I help you ma’am… um, Connie?”


“Do you have a blender?”  Without waiting for him to answer, she walked past him and into the apartment’s kitchen area.  He looked after her, enjoying the sway of her ass, then followed.  She set the paper bag onto his kitchen table.


“I’m trying to make shamrock shakes,” she explained.  “But my blender is broken.  Do you have one?”


“Yeah, of course, it’s in the cabinet over here…”


“Allow me,” Connie interrupted.  “This cabinet here?”


He nodded.  Making sure that he was watching, she bent at the waist, slowly and deliberately, giving him an eyeful of her glorious, tanned cleavage while she rummaged through the cabinet.  If she had any tan lines, Brian could see no evidence of them.  He wondered, both hopefully and nervously, if he’d find out for certain.


She looked up and caught him staring, but merely smiled and said nothing.  Brian hastily looked away, focusing his attention on the bag she’d left on the table.  A carton of milk, and a container of ice cream.  He did a double take when he came to the next item, then grabbed it by the glass neck and pulled it out of the bag, discovering that it was, indeed, a bottle of peppermint schnapps.


“Interesting milkshakes you have planned,” he remarked dryly.


“Damn right.”  She took the bottle from him, opened it, and took a straight swig, making a face.  “My ex just picked up the kids, I have no place to be… so, yeah.”  Then she resumed her search through the cabinet.  A few moments later, she found what she was looking for.


“Ah, here we go.”  Connie pulled out the dusty blender.   “You don’t go through your cabinets often, do you?”


He shook his head.  He really hadn’t, since Michele had moved out.  “Let me, um, wipe that off…”


“No, I’ve got it.”  She grabbed a couple paper towels from the roll which was lying loosely on the counter (it hadn’t made it to the holder on the underside of the upper cabinet, which was empty.)  His eyes again dropped to her chest.


“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were checking out my boobs,” she teased.


“Oh, no ma’am, I was just, uh, reading your shirt.”


“Mmmmm.  Yeah.   ‘Got milf’.  You like that, huh?”  She gave her lips a slow lick.  “One of my son’s friends bought it for me.  Although, I’m not really sure what it means,” she said naively.  “Do you know?”


He didn’t meet her eyes.  “I, uh…”


She saw his embarrassment, jumped on it.  “What does it mean, Brian?”


He was now getting flustered.  “I… well, ma’am…”




“Uh… Connie… I, um, it’s not really in my place to say—“


“Tell me.”  She trailed her fingertips across his cheek.  “Please…”


“Well, it’s… it’s an abbreviation…”


“Ah, I see,” she mused.  “What for?”


“It stands for… and, I didn’t make this up…”


She nodded impatiently.


“…It means, uh… a mom I’d love to, you know… fuck.”  He mumbled this last word quite inaudibly.


“You’d love to, what?” she pressed.


“Um… fuck.”


Her eyes widened in shock and outrage.  Brian couldn’t quite tell whether it was real or faked.


“You wanna what?” Connie demanded.  “I ought to slap you!”


“No, no, no,” he stammered, now very nervous, “I didn’t mean I want to, um, do that to you… um, with you… just that that’s what it stands for.  M-I-L-F.”


Her frown deepened, and her eyes continued to blaze with fury.  “Oh, so you wouldn’t want to fuck me.  I’m not good enough, huh?  I still ought to slap you.”


“No, ma’am, that’s not what I meant, I—”


“So you do wanna fuck me.”


“Uh, I don’t know…”


“You’re not doing anything to help a gal’s confidence, Brian,” she accused.


“I… well, not sure what to say, I…”


“How about ‘Connie, I would love to fuck you’,” the blonde suggested.


It absolutely wouldn’t be a lie—plus, she’d basically ordered him to say it.  Brian could think of no legitimate reason not to, so he opened his mouth.  “Connie.  Um.  Yes… I would love to, um, fuck you.”


She beamed.  “Awww.  I’m flattered!  I’ll think about it.”


“Uh… me too,” fumbled Brian.


“I’m sure,” she laughed.  “Although something tells me this isn’t the first time you’ve thought about it…”




“Ok, I think we have everything.”  Connie considered the blender while taking a swig from the bottle of schnapps (it had been decided that too much alcohol in the recipe would melt the ice cream and thin out the milkshake, so instead they’d opted to imbibe it more directly.)


“Isn’t it supposed to be green?” Brian pointed out.


She snapped her fingers.  “You’re right,” she exclaimed, her words coming out the tiniest bit slurred.  “Gimme the food coloring, I knew I was forgetting something.”  She removed the blender’s rubber lid and squeezed four drops of the coloring into the mix.  “We might have to add more, we’ll see how it looks after it blends.”  Connie winked at him.  “Here goes nothin’…”


“Wait, you forgot the lid—” Brian exclaimed, just as his neighbor depressed the “LIQUEFY” button.  A tidal wave of milk and several globs of vanilla ice cream erupted everywhere, with a major concentration blasting Connie’s upper chest.


Oh!” she cried out in surprise, desperately stabbing at buttons on the blender in an attempt to shut it off.  Instead, she hit the button which was marked “HIGH”.  The appliance’s motor grew louder and sent up a fresh spew of the greenish ooze, this time nailing her in the face and saturating her blonde hair.  Now blinded, Connie continued fumbling at the control buttons.  “Make it stop make it stop,” she giggled.


Finally, Brian reached under the table and pulled the plug from the wall outlet, remanding the out-of-control machine into silence.  He grabbed a dishtowel to help her clean up, but paused to ogle her a bit, realizing that with her eyes tightly shut he was free to check her out.  As he watched, a greenish rivulet of ice cream ran down her neck and dripped its way between her breasts.  His cock twitched as he imagined following it with his tongue.


Then, finally, with extreme reluctance, he began wiping the mess away from her eyes with the dishrag.


She peered around cautiously.  “Is it… is it dead?”


“Yes ma’am,” he said chivalrously, “it won’t hurt anyone ever again.”


“My hero,” she joked.  “What’s so funny?”


He was still laughing at her.  “It’s all over you…”


“Yeah, well guess what?” retorted Connie, grabbing him and throwing her arms around his waist, pressing close to him.  “Now, it’s all over you…”


“Not yet, it isn’t,” Brian pointed out.  He put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her in, his lips meeting hers.  Her tongue slid comfortably into his mouth and met his.  She moaned softly as they kissed for several seconds.  Down below, his rapidly stiffening cock began grinding against her shorts.  When he pulled away to catch his breath, greenish milkshake mix was all over his cheeks as well.


Now… it’s all over me too,” he commented before she pulled him close for another kiss.  This one was longer, more urgent, and toward the end his hands began to wander across the front of her tank top.  She made no effort to stop him.


“I’m afraid your shirt is a mess, ma’am…” he said apologetically.


“Awww, my shirt with the little male sexist slogan is ruined?  Pity…”


“Hey,” he protested between kisses, “you’re the one wearing it…”


She drew back.  “Oh, we can fix that real quick…”  She pulled the tank top over her head, releasing the wonderful breasts which Brian had fantasized about oh so many times.  The reality didn’t disappoint in the least… her boobs were large but still relatively springy and firm.  And, he saw that she indeed had no tan lines.


Brian’s heart was racing.  One of his naughtiest fantasies was, quite possibly, about to come true—the sexy older divorcee from two doors down, half-naked and seemingly throwing herself at him.  But there had to be a catch… had to be…


“Ma’am… uh, Connie, what do you want m—”


“You could start by getting your tongue down there and cleaning up your mess,” suggested the blonde.


He looked at her in shock.  “My mess?  I’m not the one who turned the blender on without the lid…”


She shot him an oh, you silly boy look.  “Do you want to stand there and argue semantics,” she pointed out, “or get your face busy between my breasts?”


Her point was inarguable, he conceded silently as he took the latter course of action.  Hell, if I get to go further south, you can blame me for the Kennedy assassination for all I care…  Deftly, he kissed and licked her neck, then made his way further down her chest.  Brian took care to clean up as much of the sticky mess as he could.  Connie’s poor tank top had taken the worst of the blast, but a generous amount had saturated her upper chest as well.  Only once he’d given a thorough tongue bath to the area in question did he turn his attention to her breasts.  His mouth fastened around her right nipple and eagerly began sucking at it.  Connie stroked his hair, moaning contentedly while he worked.  He finished up by giving her nipple a playful bite, causing her to groan.


As he pulled away, she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.  “Looks like we got this dirty too,” she remarked as she peeled the black shirt off him and tossed it aside.  “Mmmmm what’s this?”  Her fingers were playing with the chain of the necklace, tracing their way down to the green amulet pendant.


“It’s… something I picked up, I thought it was cool…”


“It’s sexy,” she complimented.   Now, she sank to her knees, at eye level with the tent in his jeans.  With a playful smile, she kissed the denim fabric, eliciting a desperate, longing moan.  “Get your pants off,” she ordered him.


He’d never known he could unbuckle, drop his jeans to his ankles and step out of them so quickly, but in nothing flat he was standing before her, clad in nothing but his socks and the charm necklace.  His cock stood at rigid attention, parallel to the ground and swinging back and forth, with Connie’s mouth just out of reach.


“If I’d known this was over here,” she drooled, “I’d have come over and borrowed things much more often…”


“Better late than… never,” he gasped, involuntarily thrusting his hips toward her sultry mouth.


She pursed her lips together tightly, and planted a kiss across the bulbous head… then another, then another.


“Connie…” he begged for more.


She smiled devilishly and kept going, making the kisses a little longer each time.


“You want it?” she looked up at him.




Connie laughed.  “Lie down.  On your back.”  He lay down on the kitchen tile as she stood.  Walking over to the table, she picked up the blender jar and swished it around.  Although most of the milkshake mix had ended up outside the blender, some of it still remained in the jar.    This, she now held up and called his attention to.


“I came here to get something delicious and creamy… and, dammit, I’m not leaving here until I get it!”  Then she was pouring the contents of the carafe all over his erect, throbbing member.  Without further ado, she sank to the floor and began licking and slurping him clean.  She began with his shaft, licking it up and down, then steadily working his way lower to the base.  Once she’d done a decent job of getting his prick clean and glistening, Connie turned her attention toward his balls, meticulously licking every square inch of his scrotum and then gently sucking each testicle into her wet mouth.  Brian moaned in delight as she expertly serviced him, and then her lips began a delicious, inexorable ascent back up the surface of his long shaft, till she was again planting demure kisses on his cockhead.  This time, however, she didn’t tease—her lips parted and she took him in, first sucking on just the head while her tongue rolled around it, then slipping him further and further into her mouth, inch by inch.  Connie would take him in a couple of inches, then ease back till her lips were tickling the ridge at the head of his cock.  Then back in, then out, then in—slightly deeper with each stroke.  She worked effortlessly, and also very softly—her mouth glided over him and took him in with barely any friction.  As she continued to take him further and further in, it also became apparent that his talented neighbor wasn’t hampered by any sort of gag reflexes.


“How’s your… mmmmm… milkshake,” he gasped.


She withdrew him from her mouth, leaving behind a thick coating of creamy saliva.


“Good so far,” she complimented, then planted a wet lick across the tip of his cock, where a dollop of precum was beginning to ooze.  “But dammit, I forgot to bring whipped cream.”  Then she took him back in, this time going from zero to balls-deep on the first stroke and with each ensuing head-bob.


Oh fuck Connie… you’re uhhhhh… going to get some if you… uhhh keep that up….


She did… and she did.  The talented cougar felt him begin to pulse beneath the ministrations of her lips, and knew that the younger man couldn’t hold back now even if he’d wanted to.  She barely had time to prepare herself before he blasted off in her mouth.  Greedily, her throat worked to swallow it as she continued to bob up and down.


Mmmmm!  Mmmmmm!” she coaxed him.


“Oh fuck!  You sexy little milkshake ruining bitch!  Take it…”  She laughed a little at his semi-coherent urgings, and ended up swallowing wrong which caused her to splutter and shake her head in slight panic.  Unaware of any difficulty, her motions added even more to Brian’s excitement as he continued to empty his creamy load into her throat.  Connie was able to “catch up” and continue swallowing him down, till finally his spasming cock began to subside.


She pulled off of him and opened her mouth to show him her mouthful of cum… then closed it again.  When she opened it to say “Aaaaahhh” a couple seconds later, her mouth was completely empty.


“That’s what I call a milkshake,” she grinned, kissing his shaft tenderly.  Next, she leaned up and kissed him on the mouth, a slow, relaxed kiss as he continued to try to catch his breath.  But suddenly, she was giggling and had to break free.


“What,” he whispered weakly.


Her voice lowered several octaves as she mimicked him.  “‘Oh take it you sexy milk shake ruining bitch!’”


“Sorry,” he said ruefully.  “Sometimes I just kinda blurt things out.  But only when I’m being driven crazy!”


“No need to apologize.  Oh my god, Brian, I had no idea what I’ve been missing!”


“That was… unbelievable…” he rasped his agreement.


She pulled herself up and regarded him.  “Uh uh,” Connie shook her head firmly, “drop that ‘was’ nonsense.  You’re going to fuck me!”


“I’ll need… um… a little time,” the young man protested, hoping to fend off her high expectations.


She paid him no attention.  “That’s why I love young cock so much,” she murmured, “it can be ready for action again almost right away…”  Connie was again planting kisses on and around his cockhead, which was already showing signs of responding.  As she worked, she thoughtfully peeled her shorts off.  She was wearing no underwear.  All the times he’d fantasized about seeing her naked, and here she was…


Unfortunately (or quite fortunately, Brian thought fleetingly) he had little opportunity to drink in the sight; immediately, she straddled his face, urging him to “get that sexy tongue on me baby!”  It was a completely unnecessary order; his mouth had already found her swollen clit, and by the time she’d coaxed him to hardness again, she’d already cum on his face four times.


Connie rolled off of him and laid on the floor, throwing her legs wide.  “Fuck me!” she demanded.  It was all the invitation Brian needed.  He’d surprised himself by being ready to go again so quickly… but then again, Connie was one of the hottest women he’d ever laid eyes on.  And now, she was about to be perhaps the hottest woman he’d ever laid.


He knelt between Connie’s legs and drank in the sight of her.  Her blonde hair, disheveled and sticky from the milkshake caper, but still lovely.  Her beautiful breasts heaved up and down; her pussy, shaved bare, glistened and dripped in anticipation.  Brian gripped his cock and placed the tip against her opening, but rather than penetrate her right away, he rubbed himself up and down her creamy slit.


“Ooooooh give it to me…” she begged.  “Please fuck me Brian!”  He continued teasing her, although he quickly realized that he was only teasing himself.  Slowly, he pushed forward and slid inside her, gasping as her warm, wet slit enveloped him.  Connie was nice and tight, but was also extremely aroused, allowing him to slip into her almost effortlessly.  He began thrusting in and out of her, thrusting leisurely at first but rapidly increasing the tempo.  As he knelt between her splayed legs and screwed her, Brian admired the way her boobs swayed and bounced.  They were, hands down, vastly superior than Michele’s 38DD fakes, which had always seemed to remain all but motionless no matter how hard he’d pounded her.


“Ooooooh!  Pound me!  Own me, stud!” yelped Connie.  Brian pulled her legs up and threw her feet over his shoulders, never missing a beat.  This drove the forty-something vixen into a frenzy.  “Oh yeah nail me balls deep baby!”  He grunted, adjusted his angle, and buried himself to the hilt in her pussy, bottoming out and eliciting more screams.   “Oooh oooh oooh oooh!  Am I… a great fuck,” she gasped, “like you… imagined?”


“Even better, baby,” he complimented as he nibbled on her lower calf.


Mmmmmm.  C’mere and kiss me.”  He grasped her ankles and began to pull them down, but she held them steadfast on his shoulders.  “Uh uh.  Just keep fucking me.  Lean down.  Bend me like a pretzel.”  He pushed forward, doubling her over until her long legs were parallel to her body, and all the while continued fucking her hard.  “Ooooooh.  I love it like that, soooo deep, KEEP FUCKING ME!


When he leaned down to kiss her, he actually did so with mixed feelings.  Putting his mouth on hers would silence the barrage of filthy talk, which was an extreme turn-on for Brian.  On the other hand, so was kissing this beautiful older woman, so he now did so.  His mouth fastened onto hers, and this time it wasn’t so much of a French kiss, but an oral rape of her mouth… mirroring the continued assault of her dripping cunt down below.  It also didn’t shut her up—rather, she continued to scream obscenities and primal fuck-cries, but they were slightly muffled by his mouth.


The only distraction was the pendant he’d bought today and was still wearing.  It kept swinging around, dragging all over her.  He guided Connie’s hands to her own ankles, then set about unclasping the necklace from his neck.  Absentmindedly he tossed it toward the pile of his clothing nearby.


“Better,” he sighed.


“Much,” Connie affirmed as they devolved into another hungry kiss.


A chirping sound interrupted them.  Brian looked up.


“My phone,” Connie explained, then pulled him down to resume the kiss.


He continued to pound deeply into her.  But, a moment later, the phone began ringing again.  With a sigh, she scooped it up and checked the display.  “My ex.  I have to take this,” she told him apologetically.


He slowed down, but was unwilling to stop entirely.  “Can’t you… call him back?”


“Can’t,” explained Connie, “he’s got the kids.  Damn!”  She put her hands on him, indicating that she needed to get up.  Reluctantly, he rocked back up to a kneeling position.  His cock slipped out of her slippery pussy, causing a groan of frustration from both of them.


She stifled it as she picked up the call.  “This had better be important, Kevin.”  She listened.  “Uh-huh.  There was a bug going around at school, it’s probably just—yes, I know.  Well what did she eat.  Ok, Kevin, well it probably doesn’t help when you give her cake for dinner.  Yes I understand that’s what she wanted, that’s not the point…”  She sighed.  “Now?  You’re down there now.”


Connie bit her lip and looked at Brian contritely.  “Yes, I… no, I’ll be down in a minute.  Ok.”


She ended the call and exhaled slowly.


“Trouble?” Brian queried.


“Yeah,” Connie scowled.  “My youngest isn’t feeling well, and guess-who can’t handle a little vomit.”  She was up, grabbing her shorts and hurriedly tugging them on.


Brian tried to keep his disappointment in check, but nodded understandingly.


“Shit!”  Connie held up the tank top.  “I completely forgot, my tank is an unholy mess.  Do you—”


“Here ya go.”  Naked, he’d shimmied over to the pile of his own clothing, and now tossed his shirt to her.


“Thanks,” she said as she hurriedly slipped it on.  “I’ll get it back to you…Damn, I’ve gotta get going, he’s waiting—”


“Will you be back?  Or—”  Or was this just a one-time thing?


“I’ll sure try,” she promised.  “Oh and good luck on the lottery!”


“I think I just won it,” he grinned.


“Awww.  You’re so sweet!”  She knelt, and lowered her head to his cock, which was still halfway hard and saturated with the juices of their coupling.  Opening wide, she took him in, balls deep, and gave him a single, long slurp, finishing up with a kiss planted on the tip just as he began to respond.  Almost as an afterthought, she leaned over and kissed his lips as well.


“Thanks honey, I had fun,” she smiled before she grabbed her phone and hurried from the apartment.








Coping with FacebooKK’s silly “full legal name” policy

If you use a pen name or pseudonym, chances are you’ll eventually run afoul of Facebook’s policy requiring you to use your “real name and birthday.”  You may one day find your account locked, pending an identity verification.  You’ll then have to send them sufficient ID before the account will be re-opened.

As erotic authors, this issue is even more sensitive.  Many of us write, but wish to keep our writing persona separate from our family, coworkers, community etc.  Thus, the use of a pen name.

It’s recommended that erotic authors be proactive in dealing with this problem before it appears.  Two suggestions:

First, each author should have his/her own official Facebook page.  (Mine is Dylan Cross, erotica author.)  Direct friends and fans there, and get them to Like and engage with the content on your page.  Also, have a backup Facebook account or two which also has administrative access to the Page, in case your Facebook account gets locked.

Second, you may actually want to set up credentials which will verify your pen name to Facebook, should it become necessary.  I’m not suggesting that you establish a safety deposit box filled with a mysterious fake identity.  Nor am I advocating the doctoring or Photoshopping of the various government IDs which appear on Facebook’s list of acceptable forms of identification.  If you do that, you’re likely violating a number of laws.

But… the list of acceptable IDs also contains a secondary list, of which they state “Facebook will also accept two of the following items that combined must show name and date of birth.”  These are easier to work with, and less likely to land you in hot water.  A couple examples:

Check — there are dozens of online services from which you can order checks.  You specify the name and info, and they mail the checks to you. It’s relatively cheap.

Credit card — you don’t have to establish credit as your pseudonym.  If you have any major credit card, you can add an authorized cardholder.  Discover, and several others, don’t require you to provide the SSN of the cardholder.  Just order a card in your pen name.

Magazine subscription stub — buy an issue of Cosmopolitan or Cooking Light at the supermarket.  It will have a subscription form… treat your pseudonym to a subscription.  When it arrives, you’ll have proof of ID.  Remember to then cancel the subscription (or keep it!)

Medical record — this is an instrumental one, because Facebook requires something which shows your date of birth.  If you’ve ever been to the ER or to the “24 Hour Care Clinic,” you’ve gotten a sheet of discharge instructions.  It’ll include your full name and date of birth, the time you were seen and discharged, and a number of followup instructions.  It’s almost in the form of a letter… in other words, simple to throw together in Microsoft Word.  Just make up some symptoms and discharge instructions (doesn’t really matter because you’ll be blacking them out with a permanent marker anyway) and voila, you have your second piece of ID.

There are a number of other items on the list which are relatively easy to Photoshop.  Again, it’s not recommended that you do this with a government ID, for legal reasons.  As far as the other forms of ID… are police going to show up at your door?  ”The editor of Cosmo got your magazine subscription, and thought this may not be you.  Can you break out some ID?”  Yeah, right. is Facebook’s page regarding this matter, plus a list of the acceptable forms of ID to establish your “real” identity.