Knee-tremblers: The collected stories

By Polly J Adams

All five stories in bestselling erotica author Polly J Adams' Knee-tremblers series, brought together in a single volume.

Knee-tremblers: where one moment of madness leads to a passionate affair, a country club gangbang and much more... Five sizzlingly explicit tales of oral sex, group sex and much, much more:

Forbidden Fruit
Tell me: am I a bitch? Am I a double-crossing slut? No. On second thoughts, don't tell me. I know the answer. New girl Katie had been keeping her husband under wraps. Maybe she knew all along that I'm a bitch, a slut - maybe that's why she'd been hiding him away. What we did that night was wrong, I know. A snatched moment away from the party, a moment of madness. That's all it was. But once you've tasted forbidden fruit, is there ever any going back?

Unfaithful
I tried really hard to be good. But I'm just not that strong. And I'm a bitch. The odds were never really going to be in my favour. I tried to be a good friend to Katie. I tried to meet her high standards, tried to offer her what support I could. But that day, when she said to me over her afternoon latte, "So how would you do it? How would you make him fall for you all over again? How would you seduce him?" That day... The honest answer would have been, I did, Katie. I did.

Taken at the Club
They tied me with silk scarves. One at each wrist, stretching my arms out to either side. One at each ankle, spreading my legs. My hips were aching from the way my legs had been spread, just a little too wide. I felt vulnerable, exposed; my pussy, especially. Uncovered, open to all. Were they standing at the foot of the bed, studying me? I'd wanted to sleep with other men, lots of them, in order to get Reuben out of my system. I hadn't meant quite like this...

The Long Shot
They say one thing leads to another, and that's certainly what I found with Reuben. Flirting at a party had led to a knee-trembler, a one-off screw that became an affair. The affair had led to... well it had led to a country club gangbang. But it had to stop. We couldn't carry on like this. Could we...?

What Katie Did
Maybe I really am a slut. What kind of girl has an affair with her best friend's man? What kind of girl gives that man a hand job before she even gets into his house? Well... perhaps the kind of girl who, when given the opportunity, will take the affair to a completely new level. Perhaps the kind of girl who decides to get down and dirty with her best friend too.

"I've just read the first book and I loved it" Katie Cramer, author of Rip Off My Panties and What Lisa Did

These stories are also available as separate, standalone ebooks.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Grieve Press
• Release date: Jul 6, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476280431

Polly J Adams

Writing under other names, PJ Adams is a successful novelist, with several novels published by major publishing houses and optioned for movies. As PJ Adams, she writes in the genre closest to her heart, erotic romance - love stories with that added heat, including the popular series, The Object of His Desire. Working as Polly J Adams, she writes best-selling erotica, relationship stories crammed full of explicit sex. Among Polly's most popular stories are the Knee-tremblers and Indulgence series about a young woman's relationship with the wealthy owner of a New England sex club.

Book preview

Knee-tremblers: the collected stories

Polly J Adams

Copyright 2012 Polly J Adams

James Grieve Press

Smashwords Edition

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Contents

Forbidden Fruit

Unfaithful

Taken at the Club

The Long Shot

What Katie Did

More from Polly J Adams

"Knee-trembler (noun): 1) An act of sexual-intercourse in a standing position, based on the sensation of trembling in the knees at the moment of orgasm. 2) A fast and furious act of sex. 3) Hurried sex in an attempt to grab the moment. 4) A short story focusing on a forbidden but irresistible sexual encounter in a series by Polly J Adams."

Forbidden Fruit

Tell me: am I a bitch? Am I a double-crossing slut?

No. On second thoughts, don't tell me. I know the answer.

I met Reuben for the first time at a dinner party at Heidi's apartment. Maybe a dozen of us were there, each with some or other connection to our host.

Katie was there. She was new, had only been at the law firm for a couple of months. She was our records manager, so I came into contact with her on a regular basis and in that short time we'd moved from nods and smiles to coffees and lunches.

I knew she was an espresso in the morning, skinny latte in the afternoon kind of a girl. I knew she liked riding, and had her own stable somewhere out of the city. I knew she'd joined the firm to try to kick-start a new beginning for her and her waste of space husband. I knew far too much about their marriage.

But until that dinner party, I'd never met the man himself. Her husband. Reuben.

I knew he liked Katie in expensive lingerie. I knew he liked risky sex – in a lift once, or outdoors, or at parties. I knew he loved Katie to go down on him, but she had never really liked it and only gave in because he got moody if she didn't.

But she'd never told me he was so hot! In his Armani suit, his tie loosened, his jaw dark with the day's stubble, and those dark, brooding eyes, all it took was a look. She'd told me what it was like to be fucked by him, the intensity, the power of his body, the passion. And when his eyes met mine I realised I knew too much already.

Was I a bitch already, just for looking? Just for imagining what it must be like?

My first fantasy image, as I was introduced to him and felt the firm shake of his hand and met that melting look: rough, uncaring sex, me against a wall, my skirt drawn up, one leg curled around him as he positioned himself and I felt hardness pressing against me, parting my lips, entering. Pumping like a piston and I'm trying not to cry out and... That was what flashed through my head.

He released my hand, said, Hi, and smiled. Katie's told me all about you.

I smiled back and tried to calm my racing heart. Oh, I said, and she's told me all about you too.

Does that make me a bitch? A slut? Just for thinking, for imagining?

Or was it what we did later that evening that tipped the balance?

§

It was a squeeze to fit all of us around Heidi's table, but we managed. Reuben sat next to me, and it was inevitable that there would be some physical contact. Was it deliberate? Did he press his thigh against mine just a bit too much? Did I allow my bare arm to brush against his one or two times more than I really had to?

Not to start with, I think.

To my left, Wendy sat with her leg pressed against mine throughout the meal with no suggestion that it was anything more than a space thing. It was just bodies, squeezed together. Unavoidable.

So when did casual touch become more?

We talked. Of course we talked. We were sitting next to each other. He was the husband of my