My Lover’s Magic Touch: Sexy Supernaturals Bundle #4

By Michelle Morphette

It can be frightening to be stripped so completely by your lover, body and soul on full display for his eyes to see. But then his touch changes you, bends you, summons from your still-hidden depths the creature you always were. Say her name - when you do, you will know what it is to be free—

In “Spilled Ink,” an old flame whispers in a jilted housewife’s ear while his words are tattooed on her flesh. In “His Salty Little Strawberry,” a man can’t stop himself from turning into a fragrant berry when he finds his date has a sweet tooth. And in “Unicorn & Pegasus,” dormant equine magic awakens in two strangers when they cross paths at a convention.

This 13,483-word bundle contains three erotic stories with explicit adult content, including lurid affairs, oral sex, physical transformations, seduction, foodplay, and M/F encounters. It is not recommended for readers under age 18.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michelle Morphette
• Release date: Jul 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310806155

Michelle Morphette

Isn’t it funny how things you liked as a kid actually turn you on when you get older? Maybe it’s just me, I don’t know. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a unicorn when I grew up. Then I wanted to be Sailor Venus. Now I wanna be in a three-way with both of them! I used to do fanfics, but now I want to make my own stories. Sexy stories about whatever pops in my head. Tales with lots of alien tentacles, monster tongues, and huge metal robot dicks that won’t stop. So, join me for an adventure in one of my books! It’ll be fun!

Book preview

MY LOVER’S MAGIC TOUCH

A SEXY SUPERNATURALS BUNDLE OF

Spilled Ink (Vol. 16)

His Salty Little Strawberry (Vol. 18)

Unicorn & Pegasus (Vol. 4)

By Michelle Morphette

Copyright 2015 Michelle Morphette

Smashwords Edition

~

The stories you are reading are licensed for your personal enjoyment only. They may not be re-published in any medium, in whole or in part, for profit or not, without the author’s express written consent. These stories contain explicit adult content. They are not intended for readers under 18 years of age. All characters are over 18, so don’t worry – it’s okay to touch yourself.

~

Spilled Ink

By Michelle Morphette

He picks up on the first ring.

Hello? I’m not ready. I didn’t even think this number still worked. I almost hang up. Who’s there?

Clay? I squeeze the phone tighter.

What’s wrong? Clay’s voice is stern, commanding. What did he do to you? I start to cry.

You were right. I just found out today.

Do you want me to take care of him? The thought comes to mind, but I shake my head.

No, I say. Can you— I sniff back the next words, but I know I can’t hold them back. Can you come here?

Clay doesn’t answer right away. He makes me wait. In the silent living room, I can practically feel him next to me, his breath tickling my ear. My skin crawls with anticipation.

I wanna hear you say it, he says.

What?

I want you to say it. No one else is in the house, but I look over my shoulder anyway.

I need you, I whisper.

What do you need me for? I’m squirming on my couch.

I need you to—to fuck me.

Louder. My left hand caresses my breast. I feel flushed.

"I need you to fuck me!" Slowly, my legs open and close. My wet cotton panties mash against my crotch.

Again!

"Come over here and fuck me! I scream. I collapse across the couch. On the coffee table, the unfamiliar earring glares back at me with its cubic zirconia stare. I close my eyes. Please—please fuck me." He pauses.

I’ll be right over.

~

For five minutes, I didn’t care. But fifteen minutes is enough time to lose your nerve.

When the motorcycle engine stops and the doorbell rings, I decide I’m going to call it off. This is stupid - I’ve never done something like this before. What if something happens? What if Jerry comes home?

I’ll tell Clay to go, I tell myself. Then I’ll delete his number. And that’ll be the end of it.

But when I open the door, Clay kisses me. He pushes me back, then kicks the door shut. His motorcycle helmet falls to the floor.

He’s inside.

Suddenly, things don’t feel so complicated. There is nothing but him, his smell of rubber and sweat. It’s been six years since we dated, but his power hasn’t aged.

I’m here, Goddess, he says, his breath tickling my neck. Hearing my old pet name makes me melt. His rough thumb grazes against my cheek, wiping away a tear.

I push him gently. He steps back. I smile. He still lets me control him. Thank you, Clay, I say.

I kiss him this time. Harder. Only then do we begin.

He spins me around, then clutches me to the chest of his thick leather jacket. I am possessed by the urge to grind against him, and when I do, the bottom of my dress hikes up. His bulge pokes the back of my exposed panties. His jacket comes off.

Clay’s lips suck at the right side of my neck. His hands squeeze my breasts together until I hiss. I moan as he becomes impatient with my dress, hiking up handfuls of it until he yanks it inside-out over my head, throwing my arms into the air. I turn around and fumble with the clasp on the back of my bra. When it’s off, he’s stooped to his knees, rolling my panties down my