Incontheivable: Paperback Love

By Kethandra Wilde

Cosplay. Role play. Word play.

Childhood best friends re-unite: an elfin blond beauty and a lanky nerd who has matured into a hunky man.

The games they played based on fantasy books and movies lead to much more adult fantasies.

With a shared love of The Princess Bride and curiosity about dominance and submission, they must overcome doubts and embrace their second chance at lust and love.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

He stared at the picture she had attached, forgetting to breathe after an initial gasped inhale. If his hands shook he was as unaware of that as he was of the twin drips of sweat suddenly running down either side of his spine.

The picture features two women posing in costumes. Her caption read:

‘Harry Potter theme party - Gryffindor mashup duo wins grand prize. (I’m the tall blond).’

Maybe he was supposed to be distracted by the costumed Daphne, her large breasts pushed together and up under the skin-tight top, above an exposed, fit midriff. The blonde wig did little to disguise her distinctive face and build.

No. She knew what she was sending. It wasn’t the taller girl, in her superhero costume, that he was supposed to find ‘interesting.’ Though she was worth a prolonged second glance:

Short skirt, cropped top, boots and a maroon cape. Daphne was clearly dressed as a sexy, exaggerated Supergirl, but the colors and the sigil on her chest were wrong. Red and blue had become maroon and grey. Only the gold stayed the same - the colors of Gryffindor, the ‘house’ that both Hermione Granger and Harry Potter belonged to at Hogwarts, the famous British school for wizards. The S was a stylized, sinuous rampant lion, the symbol of the house.

Daphne was stunning in the unique, clever outfit, showing more leg below the skirt than the comic book Supergirl ever had. But his attention would not stay on her.

Her companion in the picture was shorter, less curvy. And left him staring, slack-jawed, his breath held, his heart pounding.

The thick, reddish-brown hair was a wonderful duplication of the rich color of Hermione’s hair, bound into a long braid that draped over one bare shoulder. It was obviously another wig, as he identified the face it framed, and the slight figure it crowned.

Ken would have known her delicate features anywhere, anytime. And the exposed, athlete’s body, tiny but strong, only confirmed it. Stacy Nyborg. After all these years.

She was Princess Leia as Jabba’s captive. Hermione Granger. A caricatured schoolgirl. All in one inspired, revealing costume mash-up. But it was recognizing Stacy as the beauty in the costume that set his heart to pound, his breath to catch.

Antiqued, detailed, thick metal pieces outlined the bikini, slung low on her hips and swirling under and around small breasts. Two narrow strips of tartan plaid cloth, pleated and in the same grey, maroon, and gold as ‘Supergirl,’ hung front and back from the slim hips as a floor length loincloth-skirt, without concealing any of her naked, toned legs.

The same Gryffindor plaid backed the metal framework of the bikini top. Large metal bands encircled one wrist and the opposite bicep.

Even with the wealth of exposed, flawless skin, Ken’s eyes kept returning to her slender neck, wrapped in a matching metallic collar. A sturdy chain hung from her throat, draped in a relaxed arc to end up held in Supergirl-Daphne’s hands.

The last detail completed the ‘wizarding schoolgirl’ aspect of the costume. A large lollipop, a whorl of gold and maroon, was gripped in Stacy’s small hands. He looked closely. The stick holding the over-size candy circle was wood-tone, slightly irregular in shape, not a simple cylinder. It was a slim wizard’s wand.

His body dragged in a much-needed breath, flushed, heart racing, thoughts in a whirl tighter than the Gryffindor colors of the lollipop.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boruma Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Dec 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463769034

Book preview

Incontheivable: Paperback Love

Copyright 2019 Kethandra Wilde

Art by Moira Nelligar

All characters in this book are over 18

All references to other works of fiction are intended as parody.

-Intro-

Two fingers, miles apart. One strong and masculine, the other petite, almost delicate.

They both click to view an attachment in emails from the same sender, with the same subject line:

‘thought you might find this pic interesting.’

Two different pictures appear, one to each recipient, each causing hesitation, a delayed gasp of recognition, followed by a rush of adrenaline and an overwhelming swirl of longing, memory, and regret.

-Ken-

He had only become Facebook ‘friends’ with Daphne Caravelli recently, had hardly known her beyond a week working as partners on a high school Chemistry project. She had been tall, popular and pretty in school: the kind of girl who seemed to occupy a different world from the lanky, awkward nerd he had been in those days. But social media and the passing of years had changed what it meant to be a ‘friend.’

When he had mentioned a trip to Florida for birding on his page, she had insisted that he stay at her place when he was near St. Augustine. Her familiarity and the invitation seemed odd, but flattering.

Based on her Facebook profile shots, she had matured from slim and pretty to a striking woman with strong Mediterranean features, flawless olive skin and a Pilates-honed body that, while still slender, was now endowed with proud, rounded breasts that seemed on the very verge of what could possibly be natural.

He was just double-checking his camera bag before heading off to the St. Augustine Alligator Farm when her e-mail came through. He had no particular interest in alligators, but apparently generations of wild wading birds including herons, storks, spoonbills and several species of egret had learned that the safest place to lay eggs and raise young was in the trees above a swamp filled with captive gators where few raccoons, bobcats, pythons or other predators were likely to wander. So a visit to the Alligator Farm was a prime bird watching opportunity in this part of the state.

Since he was supposed to stay at Daphne’s place tonight, he opened her e-mail immediately.

He stared at the picture she had attached, forgetting to breathe after an initial gasped inhale. If his hands shook he was as unaware of that as he was of the twin drips of sweat suddenly running down either side of his spine.

The picture features two women posing in costumes. Her caption read:

‘Harry Potter theme party - Gryffindor mashup duo wins grand prize. (I’m the tall blond).’

Maybe he was supposed to be distracted by the costumed Daphne, her large breasts pushed together and up under the skin-tight top, above an exposed, fit midriff. The blonde wig did little to disguise her distinctive face and build.

No. She knew what she was sending. It wasn’t the taller girl, in her superhero costume, that he was supposed to find ‘interesting.’ Though she was worth a prolonged second glance:

Short skirt, cropped top, boots and a maroon cape. Daphne was clearly dressed as a sexy, exaggerated Supergirl, but the colors and the sigil on her chest were wrong. Red and blue had become maroon and grey. Only the gold stayed the same - the colors of Gryffindor, the ‘house’ that both Hermione Granger and Harry Potter belonged to at Hogwarts, the famous British school for wizards. The S was a stylized, sinuous rampant lion, the symbol of the house.

Daphne was stunning in the unique, clever outfit, showing more leg below the skirt than the comic book Supergirl ever had. But his attention would not stay on her.

Her companion in the picture was shorter, less curvy. And left him staring, slack-jawed, his breath held, his heart pounding.

The thick, reddish-brown hair was a wonderful duplication of the rich color of Hermione’s hair, bound into a long braid that draped over one bare shoulder. It was obviously another wig, as he identified the face it framed, and the slight figure it crowned.

Ken would have known her delicate features anywhere, anytime. And the exposed, athlete’s body, tiny but strong, only confirmed it. Stacy Nyborg. After all these years.

She was Princess Leia as Jabba’s captive. Hermione Granger. A caricatured schoolgirl. All in one inspired, revealing costume mash-up. But it was recognizing Stacy as the beauty in the costume that set his heart to pound, his breath to catch.

Antiqued, detailed, thick metal pieces outlined the bikini, slung low on her hips and swirling under and around small breasts. Two narrow strips of tartan plaid cloth, pleated and in the same grey, maroon, and gold as ‘Supergirl,’ hung front and back from the slim hips as a floor length loincloth-skirt, without concealing any of her naked, toned legs.

The same Gryffindor plaid backed the metal framework of the bikini top. Large metal bands encircled one wrist and the opposite bicep.

Even with the wealth of exposed, flawless skin, Ken’s eyes kept returning to her slender neck, wrapped in a matching metallic collar. A sturdy chain hung from her throat, draped in a relaxed arc to end up held in Supergirl-Daphne’s hands.

The last detail completed the ‘wizarding schoolgirl’ aspect of the costume. A large lollipop, a whorl of gold and maroon, was gripped in Stacy’s small hands. He looked closely. The stick holding the over-size candy circle was wood-tone, slightly irregular in shape, not a simple cylinder. It was a slim wizard’s wand.

His body dragged in a much-needed breath, flushed, heart racing, thoughts in a whirl tighter than the Gryffindor colors of the lollipop.

-Stacy-

Stacy pulled up the single picture in the email, puzzled. Why would Daphne send her a screenshot of a Facebook post of random guy on the beach, posing by one of those long, skinning rowing boats they used in the Olympics?

Sure, he looked good, muscled and lean and sweaty in only board shorts, with an enthusiastic, genuine smile. He had the