Women In Charge Of Sex (Boxed Set of 4 Erotic Short Stories)

By Susan Hart

A Good Head On His Shoulders: When a married couple attends a renowned artist’s gallery showing of erotic art, they become inspired to try to save their marriage; especially after a live performance of one particular sexual art.

Turning The Tables On The Alpha Male, is a twisted dominatrix BDSM tale whereby one alpha male, who thinks he’s in for a controllable sexcapade, is very much surprised when the tables are turned and he finds himself wearing something other than what he arrived in.

Kinky Sex Games With The Female Ninja, is about a modern Japanese female ninja and her American boyfriend, and how she likes to stay in control at all times.

College Boys Go Deep Into The MILF, is a story about young men on a train who encounter a hyper-sexed older woman with one thought on her mind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Hart
• Release date: Oct 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310299605

Susan Hart

I was born in England, but have lived in Southern California for many years. I m now retired and live in the Pacific NW in a little seaside city amongst the giant redwoods and wonderful harbor, almost at the Oregon border. My husband and I have one cat, called Midnight and she is featured in two of my latest Sci-Fi short stories. I love Science Fiction, animals, and trying to help others. I publish under Doreen Milstead as well as my own name. My photo was taken right before the coronation of QE II in the UK.

Book preview

Women In Charge Of Sex

By

Susan Hart

Copyright 2014 Susan Hart

Smashwords Edition

A Good Head On His Shoulders

Turning The Tables On The Alpha Male

Kinky Sex Games With The Female Ninja

College Boys Go Deep Into The MILF

A Good Head On His Shoulders

Mykla Hudson and Rachel Goodale, her best friend forever, laughed and carefully avoided spilling their champagne drinks as they attended the ritzy party on the Upper East Side. Everyone from the sexual community of bloggers, authors, teachers and health experts mingled together.

Shy excitement and lust sprinkled the air like tiny sun sparks. Both late twenties aged women wore skin tight, scooped, bare back dresses: Mykla's was a teal blue, Hollis' favorite color and Rachel wore a peach glow.

Hollis promised to attend the art event. Chinese woman visual artist and painter, Ya-Yum La, sold her works worldwide. Although people giggled nervously, her specialty consisted of visual and interactive representations of the fine art of cunnilingus. Poster sized two hundred and fifty pallet color watercolors and paintings of women's vagina zigzagged on the second floor studio walls.

Grey-eyed Mykla pointed to the zigzagged purveying of paintings and watercolor drawings. Rachel, do you think even twenty-five percent of the men comprehend why the drawings and paintings look like that, she said pointing her pink champagne at the scattered artwork.

Amber-eyed Rachel giggled. I . . . really don't think the men . . . are supposed to consciously get it, Senora Mykla. She took two more droplets of her champagne. They're supposed to pick it up on a subconscious level.

You mean their tongues supposed to grasps moving in one straight up and down line is banned in cunnilingus. Mykla tossed back her head smiling and her long jet black hair touched the top of her tush.

Rachel blinked slowly and rolled her head a bit, her shoulder-length dark-blonde hair swept across her shoulders. She nodded. She sampled more droplets of her champagne, I . . . rather like Ya-Yum La concept of not relying on the man's brain to understand giving her head.

Going directly for the gut, Mykla and Rachel laughed. Just go for the key artiste--

They both said together, Fingers and tongue, lips and nose.

They chortled loud.

Ya-Yum La paced by in her confident slow stride, her sleek ballroom red dress gliding across the floor. Enjoying the art exhibit ladies.

Immensely. Immensely, replied Mykla.

Rachel added as she leaned forward, Never . . . rely on a man's brain to get the essential . . . existential nature of pussylicking. She winked her amber eye at Ya-Yum La. Gotcha.

I assure you Ya-Yum La, my friend, Rachel, here, is not drunk off of the champagne, but the loneliness of finding her man who understands your great work.

Ya-Yum La nodded and laughed.

No. Rachel shook her head Not . . . a man to understand your great work; but a man willing to . . . do your great work!

All three women laughed.

The interactive participator art should cover that drop of information, she said in her Chinese accent.

I like that Amigo! Rachel replied. That drop of information, Rachel took another drink.

Speaking of participants, here is the man of honor. Hollis, my husband, meet Ya-Yum La, the world famous Chinese artist putting on this great display of lovely handiwork.

Ya-Yum La and Hollis shook hands.

Nice to greet you Ya-Yum La. I am looking forward to the participatory nature of your product.

Ya-Yum La nodded slightly and turned to Mykla and Rachel before facing Hollis again, and she said, Hey, a big blond guy. Please that you could attend. She patted her right black fingernail painted hand on Hollis' shoulders. You're a brave man Hollis. I suspect many husbands won't make tonight's event, and Ya-Yum La smiled and strolled away in her sleek ballroom red dress.

Got the cab you had waiting at the office, Mykla. He hugged and kissed her on the lips, I am on time right?

Absolutely, Hollis. You're on time. Mykla smiled. She wanted to add, 'for once' but there she put on her best behavior. No sense arguing before an audience of cunnilingus aficionados or want-a-be aficionados. If she waited for him to get a cab or drive home from the other side of town, it'd be tomorrow--after Ya-Yum La's showing.

Why hello, Rachel, Hollis continued.

Greetings Senor to you, Hollis, answered Rachel.

Hollis' sharp glance landed on the ladies champagne glasses. I'll just promenade on to the refreshment table and be right back, ladies."

This may be their last chance to solve their quote-unquote problem and save their six-year marriage. They met in college, fell in love, married, and Mykla bore a child, a daughter, the next year. Little strawberry-blonde Hanna would be six in August.

Mykla had about had enough. With Hannah in school now, Mykla reconsidered joining the work force. Vague in what to pursue since she'd