The Carter Affair

By Max Swan

Paul Carter, an upper class British man, is seeing a woman in a hotel and private detective Frank Jones is going to find out why.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GW Enterprises Publishing Company
• Release date: Aug 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463537695

Max Swan

Max started writing under the pseudonym of Horrorotica as he envisaged himself writing erotic horror but then discovered he had a lot to draw on in his own life as a man with a small penis. Many of the scenarios in his SPH books are based on his own experiences, which makes them even more thrilling to read for those who love this genre/niche.

Book preview

The Carter Affair

Copyright 2019 | GW Enterprises Publishing Company

Author: Max Swan (Horrorotica).

Published at Smashwords.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer

This eBook contains adults only erotica. All characters involved in any sexual activity in this story are over eighteen years of age, and any similarities to real people or real life situations are purely coincidental and unintended. This eBook is 100% fiction, none of this ever happened. The themes of this story are fine for fantasy, but do not try this at home

Credits

The image on the cover of this eBook comes from pixabay.com free stock photos, and the design/titles by Greg B., and is used with permission.

Contents:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 1

It’s a cold weekday afternoon in London. Paul Carter drives his car into the parking lot of the ‘Seaside Hotel.’ He parks the car and gets out. Paul’s a handsome man in his early forties; he’s six feet tall with a slender physique, dark brown hair, and soft brown eyes. He wears a pale blue polo shirt, slacks, dress shoes, and carried a small overnight bag. The ‘Seaside Hotel’ is a turn of the century building converted into a hotel and pub. It houses mostly tradesmen, tourists to London looking for cheaper accommodation, and some people rent suites for long-term use. The hotel’s run down and not respectable enough for families. Paul enters the lobby and speaks to the portly woman at reception. The woman rings upstairs and tells a guest Paul has arrived, and then he picks up his bag, enters the elevator, and rides to the sixth floor.

Upstairs, Paul walks down the hallway; the carpets appear worn with a garish rose pattern on it typical of the eighties. He stops in front of Room 605 and sets down his suitcase on the floor. Paul’s palms sweat, so the man wipes them on his trousers and then knocks on the door. He knocks so weakly the first time the occupant of the room doesn’t hear. Paul summons his courage and knocks harder.

Just a minute, came a woman’s voice from inside the room.

Paul’s face feels hot and burning, his stomach is a knotted ball of tension. The man sweats heavily as he waits for the door to open. Then it does but only a crack, the chain is still on. A beautiful redhead white woman peers through the crack at Paul who only sees a sliver of her face.

I thought it was you, honey, but a lassie living alone can’t be too canny, the woman said in a lilting Scottish accent.

She closes the door so she can remove the chain. The door opens. Paul carries his suitcase into Room 605. The woman shuts the door, locks and chains it. She’s a damned good-looking woman, a voluptuous, full-bodied Scottish beauty. The woman is tall, about five foot eight in her bare feet. The high-heels she wears make her even taller than Paul. She’s thirty years old, has long, fiery red hair parted in the middle. It falls in shimmering waves to the center of her back.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, but the woman wears a black satin gown. It fits tightly on her seductive, lush body. Her skin is very white. Her eyes were deep and dark, and her wide-lipped mouth painted with glossy red lipstick. Her face is skillfully made-up. The woman goes back into the center of the room. The satin gown pulled taut across her buttocks, and they roll from side to side under the fabric.

So you managed to get away this afternoon, she said and laughed lightly.

Yes, Mistress Susan, I-I don’t have to be home until dinner, Paul said his head low.

That’s good, honey because we got a lot to do this afternoon, you and I.

Several bottles stand on top of a cabinet. Susan’s room at the hotel has a living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. There are many fresh flowers in vases, filling the room with sweet perfume. The redhead splashes some whiskey over ice in a glass, and then ads a bit of water then returns to Paul.

Before we can start having fun, darling, there’s one important little detail to take care of.

Yes, yes, of course, Paul said and fumbles out his wallet and pulls ten hundred pound notes out of it.

Thanks, darling, Susan said, taking the money, Business before pleasure and all that. She goes into the bedroom, hides the money in a secret place, and returns to the living room holding a leather strap and a length of rope. Did ya bring your things, honey?

Paul’s eyes are hot and shiny. Yes, Mistress Susan.

The leather strap is fifteen inches long, two inches wide and makes of thick black leather. Susan let it dangle across her thighs. Have you been a good sissy boi this week, or a bad sissy boi?

Bad, Paul said. His voice seems to have changed. It’s now a breathless, husky whisper, rasping with excitement. I’ve been very naughty, Mistress.

I’m sure of that, Susan said, rolling her eyes. "And