Rachel: The James Williams Tales - Part One

By Carmine A Blanche, Jr

James Williams, a writer who recently found success, visits a friend of the family to help her and her husband with their budding family, but he finds new life experiences and friends along the way. In this part of a five part series, his relationship with Rachel takes a twist he was not expecting.

He learns new things about he own desires and tastes and his feelings for Rachel take a new path, but not the one he was expecting and certainly not with the results that he ever thought possible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carmine A Blanche, Jr
• Release date: Jan 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798215521236

Carmine A Blanche, Jr

I am an amateur author that is working on building a library of tasteful erotica geared towards all aspects of life. I will write what I know from a male perspective and my personal experience in the straight and lesbian areas.In my writing, I try capture the male and female perspective as best I can, but am willing to accept your constructive criticism should you provide it in a tactful and polite way.

Book preview

Rachel

A James Williams Story

Part One

An Erotic Tale by Carmine A Blanche Jr.

Copyright 2024 Carmine A. Blanche Jr.

Smashwords Edition

The following story contains explicit content, including scenes of a sexual nature intended for mature audiences. Reader discretion is advised. All characters depicted in this work are fictional and over the age of consent. The story may explore themes of intimacy, sensuality, and romance. It is intended for entertainment purposes only and does not condone or endorse any real-life actions or behaviors. Please always respect personal boundaries and preferences while engaging with this material.

With thanks to Livia Cheyenne, my Muse.

I pulled to the side of the highway and looked again at the instructions given to me for getting to the house, and everything looked correct. I pulled onto the small, private dirt road and began heading down the path to a house I could not yet see.

Slowly, I make my way along the road, and I say road carefully; it was apparent to me that this was not meant for my little Mazda Miata, being mostly pea-gravel and sand. Any attempt to give too much gas resulted in me slipping some and feeling like the car was going to get away from me, but when I reached the top of the rise and saw the house, I understood why they lived there.

This part of Wyoming was not well known for its abundance of trees, but here, just over the rise and in the distance, sat a beautiful, ranch-style house. It was surrounded by what looked to be pines and oaks. I am in no way an arborist, and my knowledge of trees is probably not much better than that of any other fool who walks through a park or of any dog that waters one of the many trees he finds in that park.

Eventually, I pulled up in front of the house, parked, and then made my way up to the front door. The front of the house was what looked like a continuous patio that seemed to wrap around it, with chairs and a small fireplace built in such a way as to allow the heat and beauty but not burn down the house.

What the hell does this guy do for a living? I