hello, everybody --
I was once a member of this website, and my handle was Thelegguy. If that doesn't ring any bells, I wrote a lot of interracial stories, mostly black woman with white man. My one single regret about becoming published was that I had to cancel my membership, but I figure posting in this forum won't hurt!
I just wanted to say thank you to all the people who read my work, and might be reading this, by posting an excerpt of my latest novel to be published as an e-book, "Queen of Swords: The Football Player's Wife".
It is about a black woman who, as the story starts, is in a loveless marriage to a wealthy pro athlete.
Please enjoy the excerpt. If you want to read more, you can buy my novel here:
http://www.extasybooks.com/mm5/merc...ore_Code=EB&Product_Code=571&Category_Code=NR
You may have to copy and paste this link into your browser window.
And also, please visit my own Yahoo Group (18 or over, please)
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/interracialeroticstories
Queen Of Swords
The personality of the Queen of Swords combines the positive air energy of the Swords Suit with the inward focus of a Queen. You can always count on her to tell you exactly how it is. Above all else she admires honesty, and she lives by her commitment to being truthful. Lies, tricks and games are of no interest to her, but she's not easy to fool. She is experienced in the ways of the world, good and bad. The Queen of Swords can size up a situation quickly. She understands human folly, but doesn't condemn it. She knows when cow manure is being thrown around and simply finds clever ways around it. She prefers being straightforward and direct. Her observations are candid, but never hurtful. In fact, this Queen has a delightful sense of humor. She likes a good laugh and always has a witty comeback ready-to-hand. She knows that life isn't meant to be taken too seriously. The Queen of Swords is refreshing in her candor and lack of pretense.
In readings, the Queen of Swords asks you to think and feel as she does. For example: Are you being completely honest? (Check this one first!) Do you see the humor in the situation? Are you getting right to the point? Have you figured out what's really going on? Are you letting yourself be fooled?
This Queen can also represent a man or woman who is like her, or an atmosphere of honest, direct communication. In a reading, she tells you that her special energy has meaning for you at this time. Let yourself be inspired by this Queen in whatever form she appears in your life.
Chapter 1 -- Rejection
"If everything is so damn perfect," Dayana muttered to her reflection in the mirror, "why can't I get my own husband to show some admiration?"
Dayana Marie Boucher-Newton looked at herself in the full-length mirror in the master bedroom, wondering where she went wrong. Her husband had just left with his buddies -- without even a kiss.
She had the perfect house, the perfect husband, a pro football player, no less, and she was the perfect wife, as his team mates had often told her so when they came to the house, sometimes with a hint of jealousy, that she thought was sweet and flattering.
It was easy to see why they could be jealous.
Dayana was slim and slender, and had a petite figure, along with silky soft and creamy smooth caramel skin. Her hair was straight, and dark brown, worn in a softly layered shoulder length bob that set off her big soft eyes.
Dayana had become the perfect wife for her husband. Thanks to her husband's money, she always had perfect hair, and always had perfectly manicured fingernails. She was rapidly clicking those nails on the little table by the mirror, getting more and more upset with each click.
She’d had two surprises planned for him. The first surprise was to make his favorite dinner, her special hamburgers. A bowl of ground beef had been marinating all day in the fridge.
She had gone to the lingerie store for the second surprise -- to buy the most beautiful bra and the prettiest pair of panties she could find. She chose a matching bra and panties in elegant white lace.
Dayana drove home, while the afternoon sun was still high in the sky, ran up the front steps, and quickly went inside. She ran past the kitchen and the living room, ran upstairs. She showered, and rubbed baby oil on her skin. She even sprayed on the perfume that he liked her to wear. She put on lipstick with a smile, thinking how she couldn’t wait for him to get home. Then she put on the lingerie.
Smiling, she studied herself in the mirror, turning left and right.
The bra, with daringly low-cut half-cups, felt like a pair of knowing hands on her full breasts, cupping them firmly yet gently, pushing them together for some serious cleavage. The equally daring bikini cut panties also left a good part of skin visible. The material covered her feminine parts but was enticingly see-through. The elastic securely gripped her booty like an invisible lover, but left her bubble shaped butt cheeks deliciously bare. The dove white material made a sexy contrast to her skin.
She was offering up her personal treats to her husband. She looked sexy, and even more importantly, felt sexy. She adjusted the straps on her bra as she heard him bustle inside the house. She turned around and smiled at him just as he came into the master bedroom.
Her husband was a handsome black man, his skin a different shade of brown than hers was. He was six foot tall and very broad across the chest and shoulders. His head was bald, his eyes dark.
“Hey, baby,” she had fairly purred.
“Hey, Dayana,” he grunted, as he sat down on the bed and began untying the laces on his sneakers.
She walked over to him, sat in his lap, and began lightly running the tips of her fingernails over his bulging biceps. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home,” she said seductively. “I bought these today. How do I look, baby?”
And what did he do?
He looked up at her. No smile. No reaction. He said, “Dayana, when’s dinner?”
She drew back from him. “What?”
“I asked you, when’s dinner,” he repeated. “Going out with the buddies tonight. Don’t want to go out hungry.”
Dayana angrily stood up, put her t-shirt and jeans back on over her bra and panties, then went downstairs into the kitchen, to make him his damn dinner. A few minutes later he came into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She placed a hamburger on a plate before him.
He scarfed it down without so much as a thank you, and then bustled out again with his buddies, all of them team members that she knew. They looked like they felt bad for her. Although they couldn’t know the whole reason why she was so upset with Eddie, they could make a good guess. Dayana got small comfort from that.
After Eddie had left, she stormed back upstairs to the master bedroom and took off her t-shirt and jeans. Now she stared at herself angrily, still wearing the pointless white lace bra and panties, her arms folded huffily across her chest.
I should have known, she thought.
Dayana decided she would no longer be dishonored by her own husband.
She shrugged off her bra and wiggled out of her panties. She went into her side of their huge walk-in closet, found her favorite strapless silver sequined dress, pulled it up and zipped the zipper. Then she found her matching silver open toed sandals, with three inch high stiletto heels, stepped into them, and snapped the straps closed.
She walked over to the mirror and smiled at her reflection.
The bottom hem of the dress stopped about mid thigh. The dress clung to her curves in all the right places. She loved the way it flattered her slim waist, and showed off her booty. Since she wore no bra or panties, no lines showed through the shiny fabric, just seriously smooth curves.
Finally, she found her little matching silver drawstring purse and put a few essential items in it -- a lipstick, compact, cell phone, lotion, and some condoms she took from the bathroom. She grinned and blushed as she dropped the condoms in her purse.
A girl's got to be prepared.
Then she went out the front door, and out to her car, her high heels making a sexy click-click-click as she walked.
While she was walking out to her car, it started to rain. That made her quiet and sad. If her husband was at home right now, they would be taking advantage of the dark and quiet, the rain accompanying the noises she’d be making.
Or would have been making, she corrected herself. Should have been making.
In the midst of her thoughts, she arrived at her car, and realized she had left the top down. It was a two-door silver sports car, with a black canvas top and black leather upholstery. Tiny water beads were all over the body. She quickly got the top up, wiped off the seats and got in.
She smoothly pulled out into traffic.
During the drive to the club, Dayana took off her rings and put them in her little matching silver purse. If the press of single men became too great, all she had to do, was put them on again. The engagement ring, especially, was difficult to miss.
I was once a member of this website, and my handle was Thelegguy. If that doesn't ring any bells, I wrote a lot of interracial stories, mostly black woman with white man. My one single regret about becoming published was that I had to cancel my membership, but I figure posting in this forum won't hurt!
I just wanted to say thank you to all the people who read my work, and might be reading this, by posting an excerpt of my latest novel to be published as an e-book, "Queen of Swords: The Football Player's Wife".
It is about a black woman who, as the story starts, is in a loveless marriage to a wealthy pro athlete.
Please enjoy the excerpt. If you want to read more, you can buy my novel here:
http://www.extasybooks.com/mm5/merc...ore_Code=EB&Product_Code=571&Category_Code=NR
You may have to copy and paste this link into your browser window.
And also, please visit my own Yahoo Group (18 or over, please)
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/interracialeroticstories
Queen Of Swords
The personality of the Queen of Swords combines the positive air energy of the Swords Suit with the inward focus of a Queen. You can always count on her to tell you exactly how it is. Above all else she admires honesty, and she lives by her commitment to being truthful. Lies, tricks and games are of no interest to her, but she's not easy to fool. She is experienced in the ways of the world, good and bad. The Queen of Swords can size up a situation quickly. She understands human folly, but doesn't condemn it. She knows when cow manure is being thrown around and simply finds clever ways around it. She prefers being straightforward and direct. Her observations are candid, but never hurtful. In fact, this Queen has a delightful sense of humor. She likes a good laugh and always has a witty comeback ready-to-hand. She knows that life isn't meant to be taken too seriously. The Queen of Swords is refreshing in her candor and lack of pretense.
In readings, the Queen of Swords asks you to think and feel as she does. For example: Are you being completely honest? (Check this one first!) Do you see the humor in the situation? Are you getting right to the point? Have you figured out what's really going on? Are you letting yourself be fooled?
This Queen can also represent a man or woman who is like her, or an atmosphere of honest, direct communication. In a reading, she tells you that her special energy has meaning for you at this time. Let yourself be inspired by this Queen in whatever form she appears in your life.
Chapter 1 -- Rejection
"If everything is so damn perfect," Dayana muttered to her reflection in the mirror, "why can't I get my own husband to show some admiration?"
Dayana Marie Boucher-Newton looked at herself in the full-length mirror in the master bedroom, wondering where she went wrong. Her husband had just left with his buddies -- without even a kiss.
She had the perfect house, the perfect husband, a pro football player, no less, and she was the perfect wife, as his team mates had often told her so when they came to the house, sometimes with a hint of jealousy, that she thought was sweet and flattering.
It was easy to see why they could be jealous.
Dayana was slim and slender, and had a petite figure, along with silky soft and creamy smooth caramel skin. Her hair was straight, and dark brown, worn in a softly layered shoulder length bob that set off her big soft eyes.
Dayana had become the perfect wife for her husband. Thanks to her husband's money, she always had perfect hair, and always had perfectly manicured fingernails. She was rapidly clicking those nails on the little table by the mirror, getting more and more upset with each click.
She’d had two surprises planned for him. The first surprise was to make his favorite dinner, her special hamburgers. A bowl of ground beef had been marinating all day in the fridge.
She had gone to the lingerie store for the second surprise -- to buy the most beautiful bra and the prettiest pair of panties she could find. She chose a matching bra and panties in elegant white lace.
Dayana drove home, while the afternoon sun was still high in the sky, ran up the front steps, and quickly went inside. She ran past the kitchen and the living room, ran upstairs. She showered, and rubbed baby oil on her skin. She even sprayed on the perfume that he liked her to wear. She put on lipstick with a smile, thinking how she couldn’t wait for him to get home. Then she put on the lingerie.
Smiling, she studied herself in the mirror, turning left and right.
The bra, with daringly low-cut half-cups, felt like a pair of knowing hands on her full breasts, cupping them firmly yet gently, pushing them together for some serious cleavage. The equally daring bikini cut panties also left a good part of skin visible. The material covered her feminine parts but was enticingly see-through. The elastic securely gripped her booty like an invisible lover, but left her bubble shaped butt cheeks deliciously bare. The dove white material made a sexy contrast to her skin.
She was offering up her personal treats to her husband. She looked sexy, and even more importantly, felt sexy. She adjusted the straps on her bra as she heard him bustle inside the house. She turned around and smiled at him just as he came into the master bedroom.
Her husband was a handsome black man, his skin a different shade of brown than hers was. He was six foot tall and very broad across the chest and shoulders. His head was bald, his eyes dark.
“Hey, baby,” she had fairly purred.
“Hey, Dayana,” he grunted, as he sat down on the bed and began untying the laces on his sneakers.
She walked over to him, sat in his lap, and began lightly running the tips of her fingernails over his bulging biceps. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home,” she said seductively. “I bought these today. How do I look, baby?”
And what did he do?
He looked up at her. No smile. No reaction. He said, “Dayana, when’s dinner?”
She drew back from him. “What?”
“I asked you, when’s dinner,” he repeated. “Going out with the buddies tonight. Don’t want to go out hungry.”
Dayana angrily stood up, put her t-shirt and jeans back on over her bra and panties, then went downstairs into the kitchen, to make him his damn dinner. A few minutes later he came into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She placed a hamburger on a plate before him.
He scarfed it down without so much as a thank you, and then bustled out again with his buddies, all of them team members that she knew. They looked like they felt bad for her. Although they couldn’t know the whole reason why she was so upset with Eddie, they could make a good guess. Dayana got small comfort from that.
After Eddie had left, she stormed back upstairs to the master bedroom and took off her t-shirt and jeans. Now she stared at herself angrily, still wearing the pointless white lace bra and panties, her arms folded huffily across her chest.
I should have known, she thought.
Dayana decided she would no longer be dishonored by her own husband.
She shrugged off her bra and wiggled out of her panties. She went into her side of their huge walk-in closet, found her favorite strapless silver sequined dress, pulled it up and zipped the zipper. Then she found her matching silver open toed sandals, with three inch high stiletto heels, stepped into them, and snapped the straps closed.
She walked over to the mirror and smiled at her reflection.
The bottom hem of the dress stopped about mid thigh. The dress clung to her curves in all the right places. She loved the way it flattered her slim waist, and showed off her booty. Since she wore no bra or panties, no lines showed through the shiny fabric, just seriously smooth curves.
Finally, she found her little matching silver drawstring purse and put a few essential items in it -- a lipstick, compact, cell phone, lotion, and some condoms she took from the bathroom. She grinned and blushed as she dropped the condoms in her purse.
A girl's got to be prepared.
Then she went out the front door, and out to her car, her high heels making a sexy click-click-click as she walked.
While she was walking out to her car, it started to rain. That made her quiet and sad. If her husband was at home right now, they would be taking advantage of the dark and quiet, the rain accompanying the noises she’d be making.
Or would have been making, she corrected herself. Should have been making.
In the midst of her thoughts, she arrived at her car, and realized she had left the top down. It was a two-door silver sports car, with a black canvas top and black leather upholstery. Tiny water beads were all over the body. She quickly got the top up, wiped off the seats and got in.
She smoothly pulled out into traffic.
During the drive to the club, Dayana took off her rings and put them in her little matching silver purse. If the press of single men became too great, all she had to do, was put them on again. The engagement ring, especially, was difficult to miss.
