Just Knock!

By Ashley Rylan Marcas

Mason stretched back out and propped his head up with his arm. “Then, I have an idea you might like. Just stop me if you want.”
“If you’re going to suggest some kind of relationship, you can forget it. I told you...”
“Just hear me out,” Mason interrupted. You go out on the street and find strangers and bring them back here for sex.”
“I like variety,” she explained.
“Just listen...okay. You give me a key to your apartment, and on...say Monday nights and Thursday nights you have a visitor.”
“And who might these visitors be?”
“Might be me, might be someone I know, but there would be rules.”
“I’m listening,” she replied.
“On these two nights, you get into bed naked and put on a blindfold. You can’t remove the blindfold at any time. The men won’t know who you are and you won’t know them. ... “You should be submissive” ...

...She couldn’t stop thinking about her encounter with Mason, she was still considering the arrangement they had agreed upon. She remained skeptical, even suspicious of him. However, the sex had been fantastic!
She kicked herself one minute for being so gullible, then, in the next she couldn’t help but feel those surges when she thought about having a visitor tonight.
Blindfolded by a stranger who wants to do who knows what to her! Be submissive, Mason had said. She didn’t like that word. We’ll see, she thought.

The Nymphomaniac in this novelette is intelligent, gorgeous and independent—well, almost. She’s lonely and insatiable, with one dependency—SEX! See how one woman negotiates a man’s world, then much later, discovers what really fulfills her. If you’re not into having several different sex partners, you don’t want to read this book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashley Rylan Marcas
• Release date: Feb 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463273913

Book preview

Just Knock!

by

Ashley Rylan Marcas

Credit for the cover image goes to

Dreamstime.com—Subbotina

Edited by author of Just Knock!

Copyright 2018

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.

All sexually active characters in this book are 18 years of age or older. All sexual acts are consensual and no one in this book is related.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Novelettes by Ashley

Chapter 1

It was a cold and rainy Friday in New York City. The streets were glossy with water as the wind whipped between the buildings in ever growing sheets of rain.

Nicole pulled the collar of her raincoat closer around a face that was more elegant than just pretty. She was a big girl, 5’10" and around 160 pounds, depending on the time of day. Definitely not your petite and fragile female. Her auburn hair was shoulder length styled with a flip at the bottom. She glared at the rain with deep green eyes. Trying to stay dry in this wind is hopeless, she growled to herself. Oh, well, she grimaced at the thought of wet, stringy hair.

Her long, graceful neck was milky white as was the rest of her skin, not even a hint of a tan. Tanning was a frivolous effort, something for girls who had too much time on their hands. She was a woman with purpose and her long strides indicated it would be unwise get in her way.

She held herself tall, her posture perfect in spite of her height. She was extremely stylish, for any man who appreciated a big woman. Frequently asked if she were Russian, she would reply no, she was from Pennsylvania and proudly so.

At 24 years of age, she had recently graduated from Columbia University with a master’s degree in journalism. Much to her delight, she had landed a job with a small newspaper right out of school, giving her the means to stay in the Manhattan Island area. She loved the city lights and the ease of metro transportation allowed her to travel from work to home in a short period of time.

Today, however, the trip was proving to be messy, even if it was short!

Her black boots and black raincoat hid her shapely body. A rain hat obscured her face, giving her a slightly roguish appearance, reminiscent of the look of the thirties.

Nicole turned the corner and entered her favorite coffee shop, stamping the water from her boots on the mat provided by management for gloomy days such as this. She closed the glass paned door behind her and stepped onto the black and white tiles of the floor.

The coffee shop was small but very cozy, consisting of a long bar down the right side, populated with bar stools. The heels of her boots clicked on the tiles as she strolled confidently over to the counter. There were small, two person tables down the left side of the enclosed area.

A man, sitting halfway back on the left caught her eye. Even sitting down, she could tell he was tall and muscular. She couldn’t help but stare for a moment, and when his searing gaze caught hers, her skin tingled, heat erupting from each pore, kindled by his dashing smile and her adrenaline started pumping. She blushed and abruptly looked the other way, secretly hoping he felt the same attraction that she did.

Good grief, she thought as the familiar throbbing of her clit began, I only glanced at him and I’m creaming as if he were peeling off my clothes! She liked men, and all the traits they brought with them, especially the primal ones.

The waitress approached her, smiling from behind the bar, Coffee, miss?

Black, Nicole replied. The big size. She chose a stool and sat down to wait, but she couldn’t resist sneaking another peak at the intriguing man and looked back over her shoulder. As their eyes met, his dark piercing gaze stoked the fire in her veins, threatening to consume her. She smiled coyly, that should get a reaction, she thought. She looked back as the waitress placed a cup of steaming hot liquid in front of her.

In the next second, she heard a chair being moved as it slid back over the floor. She glanced toward the sound in time to see the man get up and move toward her. She smiled inwardly as she continued to stare. Look at those muscles! And that bulge in his pants. Delicious! she thought and dropped her head demurely, as the man straddled the stool next to her.

I’m Mason Buell, he said as he settled in next to her.

It’s a pleasure Mr. Buell. I’m Nicole Ryder, she said softly. Her last name considered most appropriate by many of her male friends at school.

Buell was tempting, but clearly ten years her senior. At least 6’2" and 200 pounds, she figured. The muscles she had seen rippling under his shirt as he strode to her side framed a trim, almost athletic body. His black hair was sprinkled with silver gray strands, thick black eyebrows crowned a long, broad nose and a thin mustache sat above his enticingly full lips. His jaw line was pronounced and square, almost chiseled.

Nicole felt the throbbing between her legs grow stronger as she took in his presence—her core excited to the point her hands trembled, ever so slightly.

Mind if I join you? he said in a deep, rumbling baritone.

Please do, she gestured toward the stool he had already taken, her breath quickening, unsure of what to say. She had never mastered the verbal part of this pickup thing. Do you come here often, Mr. Buell? she managed to sputter a bit of small talk.

He smiled, Sometimes, but I’ve never seen you here before. I’m certain I wouldn’t have forgotten a woman like you!

Nicole blushed in spite of herself. Verbally challenged, but I do love the game, she thought, the flirting game! She smiled at the obvious compliment, glanced at him demurely and grinned.

Thank you, she replied bashfully. It’s nice to be noticed, especially by someone like you, she said timidly, glancing toward his hand for a ring.

The gesture wasn’t lost on him, I don’t wear jewelry, he displayed a rakish smile, but I’m not married. How about you?

No, Nicole replied, Not married—nope! The waitress warmed her coffee. She picked up the cup and began to blow across the top to cool the brew, grateful for the distraction.

Such lovely lips, he said as he watched her, so full and perfectly formed.

Nicole shifted in her seat, her excitement grew, the flame inside increasing its intensity. She pictured her lips wrapped around his cock—just as he’d intended. I’ve been told that before, she offered, not sure how to reply.

Mason smiled again, his arm resting on the bar. On your way...

Home, Nicole interrupted. She reached across his arm for the salt shaker, allowing her breast to brush against his hand. Ever tried salt in your coffee? It enhances the flavor, you know. She stared into his eyes and tried to gauge his reaction to her touch.

He seemed a little stunned, so she continued, I’m headed home. She looked into his brown