Violet Rising

By Frank Lee

Athletic and beautiful Violet Chase is an affluent, suburban dream. When a handsome and adoring young houseguest moves in for the summer, she realizes the dream she embodies was never her own. Then the soothing voice of a distant stranger begins to reassure her that her own dreams can only be set aside for so long before the inevitable, emotional implosion.
As Violet embarks on a journey through her own passion, will she burn down the ruins of her former self? What choice will she finally make between the two men who see her for what she truly is?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lush Stories
• Release date: Jun 6, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301242474

Frank Lee

You've seen me on crowded sidewalks, head bowed, avoiding the eyes of strangers, rushing to nowhere for no good reason. Another hopeless no one, but in my mind's eye, my desire lights fires in your dreams.

Book preview

Violet Rising

By Frank Lee

Copyright © 2013 Frank Lee

Cover Photo Rights Licensed © 2013 Shutterstock

Smashwords Edition

The rights to this story are owned by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.

This book contains works of fiction. The characters and situations are products of each author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

License Notes: This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold, or given away to people.

Lush Publishing is a division of www.lushstories.com, the adult social network for erotica lovers.

Chapter 1: Promise

I come out to lie in the sun. Blanket. Soft grass. July noon leering down hard. Light and heat trickles over skin and sinew, seeps into muscle and bone. I feel sleek, strong and a little sore after this morning’s workout. I punished myself at the spa over this haze of succulent daydreams setting my days and nights on end. Discomfiting fissures in a lifetime of correct behavior.

Once upon a time I knew where everything fit.

It was another tiny fissure when I stopped to buy this bikini on the way home from my spa. The sun touches places that never saw it before. My body feels different somehow, as if I can feel the soft scrape of the blood pouring through my flesh. The top is small enough to make my breasts feel larger. Heavier. Outspoken. I blushed like a schoolgirl when I put it on, even though it was just me and the bedroom mirror.

Suddenly, in place of my reflection there was Shane looking back, clumsily masking his adoring surprise. I turned away to giggle and blush over a secret, personal triumph.

Sometimes, even the little victories feel like hot delicacies. And sometimes they’re enough just because they have to be.

We feel a rush and then rush to hide.

My heart skipped all the way from my bedroom to here, wondering, even hoping he’d catch me padding through the house. He didn’t, but I know he’s watching. I can feel him. I come to count on him, and I know he’ll come out to find me.

It’s been like this since the day he moved in for the summer. He’s a favor my husband owes an old friend. Hulk of an aimless college boy who sits for ages while I tan, finding excuses to come ever closer, to do things for me. Yesterday, he fetched so many glasses of sticky-sweet lemonade I lost count of the times I had to run inside to pee.

And yet I know how he loves to watch me run. I didn’t run on the way back, though. I took my time and felt his look. It was enough to make my heart race and pussy churn.

Hey Mrs. Chase.

Shane.

I lift and turn my head to watch him cross the yard, seeing his sudden hesitation when he sees how naked I am. He’s wearing sunglasses, but I don’t have to see his eyes to know how they wander. I give him a smile he can barely see.

He’s not wearing a T shirt today and his beautifully muscled body stops the air in my throat. Baggy shorts hang loose and low on his hips. If I were braver, I’d yank them right down and satisfy this nagging curiosity. But I only flash my most casual, matter-of-fact smile.

He sits in a lawn chair a few yards away and opens a paperback to the same page he’s been pretending to read all week. I lay my head back and savor his shy attention. My thighs drift apart, just enough to know he’ll see that small strip of material running between them. It’s barely wider than my pussy. It feels pasted to my skin.

My nipples tingle and gather under the sun and Shane’s furtive gaze. I think my life has become a recurring dream. Ever since that night last week. A few fleeting moments in the kitchen. An innocent coincidence.

Completely harmless.

My husband was sleeping. I heard Shane rattling around the kitchen. I felt such an urge to be near him. His classically beautiful body played on my unsettled mind. I didn’t put on a robe as I normally would. I had to see if the attention I’d been sensing was real.

I entered the dim kitchen in a scant little bra and panties.

Hey there, Shane. Something keeping you up?

Oh, hi Mrs. Chase. I was just… I felt his eyes devour my heavy, round breasts. My nipples woke up with a start. …thirsty.

I forced myself forward calmly, drawing close to him by the sink where he leaned back with a glass of water. All he had on was a tight pair of nylon boxer briefs. It was painful to keep from staring. He was magnificent and trying just as hard as me to keep from staring. I reached for a glass from the cabinet, going up on my toes higher than I needed. What was I thinking? Why did I have to flex my tight ass in front of him?

It came to me then that somewhere there had to a thousand dim rooms with a thousand women and young men taking careful note of a thousand points of attraction. A thousand others just like me, discovering the promise of something delicious inside us all. How many have the power to push their instincts aside?

Or are my instincts pushing me aside?

Want some water, Mrs. C?

I think I’ll have some juice, I said, smiling.

I opened the refrigerator, bathing myself in its light as I bent down. My legs were straight as pins. He never saw the tremor in my hand as I fumbled for the container. I’ll never know how that juice got poured without spilling all over the counter.

I leaned beside him, near enough to feel the warmth of his stunning body. One light touch and I think I would have screamed.

His briefs were fully packed, but I could barely bring myself to look. Something raised the glass to my lips, some force that wasn’t me. I could barely swallow while vivid thoughts of touching his cock swirled through my addled mind. My nipples felt hard as a pair of jewels.

Shane turned and pressed himself against the counter. I couldn’t see, but I knew he was getting hard and didn’t want me to know. If he only knew how wet I was getting.

I finished my juice and put my glass in the sink.

Don’t stay up too late, okay?

I won’t, ma’am.

I think his voice was a little choked, but maybe it was all in my mind. I almost laughed when he called me ma’am. I felt a sudden rush of dangerous confidence.

No need to be so formal all the time, Shane, I told him. My friends just call me Violet, and if you’re going to be living here then don’t you think we should try to be friends?

Then…in that next idiotic second…I touched his shoulder. His muscle felt so hard and I swear his skin was on fire. The confidence suddenly turned into something else. Something even more dangerous. I practically whipped my hand back to my chest and turned to go.

Yes, ma’am, he muttered. I mean…Violet.

Maybe it was only my imagination teasing me when I felt so sure he turned and actually touched his excited cock as he watched me walk away.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought the booming in my ears was loud enough to wake my husband. It wasn’t, of course, and as soon as I slipped back into bed, my fingers did a silent spider-walk down inside my panties.

My lips were wet and so very flushed. I fought to keep still as my fingertips grazed and dipped. I had to bite my lip to contain a moan when I touched my aching clit. I rubbed and pressed, rubbed and pressed even more, urging the little nub to swell with electric sensation.

An innocent little accident, I reminded myself. That solid body was so stark in my mind as my fingers probed my sheath. Just an everyday occurrence. A fit, shapely housewife – blonde and youthful - feels a little thirsty late one night while her tall, muscular houseguest has the same idea. Happens all the time. Doesn’t it?

I thought about the fuck toys in the drawer just a few feet away. How they would feel so much better than my fingers. But I didn’t want to wake my husband. How would I explain that burning desire to cum after padding around the kitchen in a lacy bra and thong in front of the college bound son of his old law school friend?

I was sure Shane was back in his room with a ripe, overheated cock in his hand. Stroking himself while he thought of me in the light of the open refrigerator. I had a deep and sudden longing to go take care of him. Oh yes, even taste him. How sweet it would be to watch his eyes roll back in his head while I touch my warm lips to that clear sap dripping from the tip of his hard cock.

My pussy was dripping like a piece of overripe fruit as I pawed myself. In my mind, all I could see was the look of surprise on Shane’s beautiful face as I entered his room, slipping out of my bra and panties. I could see his thick cock stand upright as he gripped himself.

I’ll take care of that for you, baby, I heard myself say. You’re a big, beautiful man, and Violet’s gonna show you how good that can feel.

I saw myself go straight to his bed and calmly sit, take his wrist and draw his hand off his cock, only to replace it with mine. The way he throbbed in my grip felt so real. I could have sworn I was really holding him, really stroking the full length of his beautiful shaft, teasing his balls, stroking and pumping, gasping delightedly when his cum geysered up in hot, foaming jets.

I never thought it possible to cum that hard without waking up my husband, without crying or thrashing. But anything’s possible if you need it enough.

I was so sure I was losing my mind I could barely look Shane in the eye the next day, even though he was suddenly so attentive. When I went out to work on my tan, it seemed he was there every time I exhaled, running to fetch me drinks or magazines to read.

I ran a thousand, echoing conversations through my mind, as if I were rehearsing to scold him for looking at his hostess the wrong way. That’s how you’re supposed to look at the young women on your campus, I’d say. Not a woman well into her thirties. And certainly not the wife of your father’s old friend.

In one scenario he responds by pinning me to the wall with his hard, massive body, his sweet, warm breath brushing my lips as he says, But you’re the only one I want to see. You’re the one who makes me say, ‘That’s what a woman is meant to look like.’ There will never be a love in my life like you. Can you feel how hard you make me? There’s nothing I can do. Help me, oh god, help me…

Where do you turn when you don’t trust your body or mind? When you feel you have a secret life you can’t even tell your friends. In the end, whatever’s in a person’s heart always comes down to the eyes. Shane has yet to learn how to hide what’s in his. Me? I thought I wrote the book on hiding. Until now.

So this morning, before I went to my club, I waited for my husband to leave and listened for Shane’s appearance in the dining room to eat his breakfast. I wore even skimpier panties this time. Low cut, with lace and a transparent gusset like a little window on my pussy. I’m not sure how I managed to even slip them up my legs with such shaky hands. Then a matching bra, very low cut with transparent half cups.

I slipped on a pair of small-heeled slippers and went downstairs. I was a bundle of nerves, yet filled with a power I’d never hope to control. I took a deep breath and put a smile on my face to enter the room.

Get enough to eat? I asked, in lieu of announcing myself.

Shane didn’t know where to look, and I couldn’t suppress a naughty giggle. He looked like he wanted to eat me. I’m sure I’d have climbed right up there on the table and let him if he’d asked. I sauntered into the kitchen and poured coffee. I took my time on the way back, as if I were being careful not to spill my coffee, even though I put an extra little sway in my hips just for him.

As soon as I rounded the corner and hit the stairs, I rushed back to my room before he could see the nectar showing through my panties.

It’s dangerous to think of these things as I lie here knowing he watches me. So much heat already building in my pussy. Days and nights of sweet teasing. Have I been teasing him or only myself? I’m dying to look at his shorts for evidence of his strong, young erection, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Or can I?

I take a fleeting glimpse as I roll to my stomach. His head nods toward the