I Do Everything

By Sam Hoode

Toby rolls his guitar and amp out his car. One of the girls who has been dancing all night in front of him follows him out. She's confident, pretty and invites him over for a 'coffee or something'. But she is half his age. The discussion turns to whether or not it's appropriate. Michelle points out in a moment of weakness that she 'does everything' and Toby relents - she is after all very pretty and confident and she has a flatmate called Ange who is growing unhappy with her man. So Toby heads home with Michelle ... what does Michelle mean by "I do everything" and just why is Ange unhappy with her man.

Toby gets to cross two things off his sexual bucket list ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sam Hoode
• Release date: May 4, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311337498

Sam Hoode

Sam lives and works in Christchurch, New Zealand. Whilst there is a 120,000 word full length novel securely hidden somewhere, Sam prefers writing short story erotica. The sort of thing that you can sit down and read within one sitting. Story lengths run from 2000-5000 words and cover mainstream erotica - nothing hard core. Sam writes in two styles, one is a the ultimate-female-fantasy series and the other is more down-to-earth-real-world-house-wife series. Hopefully one or the other will capture your attention. Feedback is welcome at [e-mail]

Book preview

I Do Everything – Erotic Short Story – Smashwords Version

Copyright – February 2015

Sam Hoode

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I lean over and turn my amplifier off. I sigh and stretch like I’ve just completed a serious work out at the gym. A small but vocal group of girls have kept us playing longer and while it was fun, I was ready for bed an hour ago. But dancing girls are dancing girls.

One more song! One more song! is becoming a monotonous chant. Mike’s voice is shot and he has called the night over. I’m sure that the attractiveness of the women had a lot to do with the extra songs and for that I can’t blame him. In fact being the only single one in the band, I should thank him.

No. Sorry girls, we have to go. Thanks for dancing though, you were awesome. Best ever. World class. Galaxy class, even. But now, please, you gotta go home. Mike's subtle but charismatic ‘fuck off’ succeeds in getting them to give up. He raises his hand in victory, takes a bow and then sidles off to the bar.

Packing down is very quick and after twenty years I’ve got it down to a fine art. I plonk my guitar case on my amp and wheel it out the door. One of the girls holds it open for me and follows me out.

Thanks for that, I say.

No problem. It’s the least I can do for you.

I consider asking what the ‘most’ she can do for me is but she’s already gone back to her cellphone and sipping at the straw in her drink.

A doorman comes out. Hey Miss, you can’t take that outside ... oh wait ... is she with you, Ricky? he asks.

I take a breath to say no but he continues, "That’s all