Christmas STUFFING

A hot and filthy Christmas group story

Susannah K Stone

ARC reviews for Santa is COMING

A hot and filthy BDSM Christmas romance

'Quick hot read that will set your panties on fire!!!!'

'Hot and steamy. You will not be disappointed with this one.'

'A smoking hot dirty little Xmas read.'

'Off the charts hot n sexy.'

'Great Christmas story! Loved this book! Great storyline!!'

'Who doesn't like a little mystery and rocking hot sex?? OH MY GOSH....reading this was fast and furious. Loved it.'

'Wonderfully written with strong characters. Very captivating and interesting short sexy read. I could not put it down. I want to read more from this author.'

'Hot and Dirty! Wow, this book is hot and sexy and I loved every single page of it. Deliciously filthy.'

'Well written with great characters with sizzling chemistry and interaction.'

'Wow, this is a great book!! This is a great, short, quick, steamy story that will keep you engrossed in it till the end.’

Prologue

I don't even want to go to the stupid Christmas party.

A neighborhood holiday party, how lame.

It's not like I hate my neighbors or anything, even though we're living in a way rougher part of town since Dad lost his job. It's just... it's stupid, and lame, and I want to stay in my room and message with my friends.

But Mom and Dad insist.

“Come on, Tammy, we have to get to know the neighbors sometime,” Dad says, knotting his tie and checking his reflection in the tinsel-bedecked lounge mirror.

Mom, all glittery dress and high heels and red lipstick, coos in agreement.

“Your father's right. We don't want people thinking we're snobs, just because we used to live uptown.”

I heave a sigh and pull myself off the couch, tramping upstairs to look in my wardrobe and see what I want to wear. I could just stay in my jeans, I suppose, but I suspect Mom will want me to make an effort. She certainly has.

And after all, maybe Dexter will be there—

Smiling at the thought of my mom and dad's faces if I'm kissed under the mistletoe at this party by the huge ripped and tattooed dude down the street, I flip through my sluttiest dresses.

If Mom and Dad want me to make an appearance at this party, then make an appearance I will.

Chapter 1

Music pulses as the three of us approach the party house, pumping out so hard and loud that my mom and dad exchange an unsure glance.

This doesn't sound like the sort of genteel middle-class Christmas party we went to in our old neighborhood, with pretty little dishes of sophisticated nibbles laid out on nicely polished tables. Where the music, at a suitably muted volume of course, was classical – or at the very most a bit of blues (or once, when my dad was feeling particularly daring, Status Quo).

This sounds rough. Dangerous.

I perk up a little.

The door's already open so we just go on into the house. We're all a bit tentative – my mom and dad because they're thinking wtf have they arrived at, and me because I'm wondering again if Dexter will be here.

I don't really know him but this seems like his sort of thing—

We're accosted as soon as we cross the hall. It's Mrs Smithson, owner of the house, thrower of the party, and mom to another fine specimen of manhood in her hulking son Troy.

I hope he's here too.

I'm suddenly aware, a tad disconcertingly given that I'm standing next to my mom, my dad, and my sweet and tiny little old lady neighbor, that my heart is racing and my face is flushed.

It's Brad's fault. What's a girl to do if her boyfriend won't fuck her?

We've only had sex once, quick and sticky and – I have to say it – somewhat disappointing. It was my first time. His, too. And now he's all overcome with guilt and says we shouldn't have. Says we need to focus on our studies.

I kind of know he's right – now that I live in the rough part of town I can see how important it is that I study my way out of it. But I'd still like to try it one more time, to see if it gets better.

Not much chance of that.

“Welcome, welcome!”

Mrs Smithson breaks into my reverie, beaming at us, bustling around, taking our coats and herding us into the lounge.

Holy shit.

Dexter is here. So is Troy. And so are four more huge hunks of men, clearly friends of theirs.

My face floods red again. As red as the dress I finally picked out, a bright scarlet number that barely covers my ass and that flares out over my bare, tanned legs. I've matched the dress with high sandals in a darker red, to add an extra few inches to my five-feet height.

As Troy – and the rest – look at me, I suddenly wonder if my outfit is too much. My face scalds as I nervously tug the hem of the dress down.

Was that just a wicked grin on Dexter's face as he watches me?

“Tammy! Mr and Mrs Jensen! Welcome!” Troy says. Or bellows somewhat, because this room is the music lair. Me, my mom and dad all smile weakly.

Then Mrs Smithson chirrups to my mom and dad: “Well, everyone's in the other room! Let's leave the young people to enjoy themselves without us old fogies!”

And the three of them leave the room.

Leaving me alone here with six guys.

All older. All huge. And all staring at me in my tiny red dress and strappy sandals, like they could just about eat me up.

An hour later I'm pretty tipsy. And having a pretty good time too. The guys are good fun, even if they might think I'm just a naïve freshman who doesn't have a clue about anything.

Even if I am a naïve freshman who doesn't have a clue about anything.

I've never heard of any of the artists whose music throbs out of the stereo – even the one that Troy jeeringly says is really famous. I can't keep up with the wisecracking and jokes of the guys, chucked casually around the room.

And as for my attempts at pool – well.

It's only a half-sized table in the basement we’ve all trooped down to, which is probably just as well given the size of me compared to the size of these guys. They can loom over the table with ease, take a shot and have their chosen ball plonk into their chosen pocket – it'd be hard not to when their bodies pretty much cover the length of the baize—

By contrast, I totter around in my heels, the pool cue almost my size, before attempting to lean over to take a shot without showing all six guys my lacy black panties.

I can't lean far enough over the table either, and when I do just once, the pool balls get messed up underneath my sizable tits. When I straighten up, two of the balls shoot out from me, one in either direction.

There are hoots of laughter.

“Damn, man, did you see that?”

“She moved them balls with her titties!”

They're all laughing. My face burns again, but then Dexter, grinning, hands me a shot glass of tequila. And after I slam it it I laugh with them too.

I think it's a couple of hours later when my parents come in.

The guys and I have finished playing pool and are on the floor instead, among a pile of cushions and beanbags. I'm pretty drunk now – I've even told them I might break up with Brad – but I'm not so wasted that I don't keep an eye on the hem of my dress, which keeps riding treacherously up my bare thighs.

And I must be really drunk now, because part of me – an increasingly large part – thinks so what if it does. I have nice thighs. At least three of these men can't take their eyes off them.

It's just as well I'm at least slightly modest though, because I'm not sure what my dad will do if he sees me sprawled on the floor among six men, with my skirt up my ass and my panties hanging out.

I suspect he won't be happy.

Something happens down below when I think that. My pussy gives a little pulse. I've never felt that before! I'm not sure what's going on but I gulp more beer to cover.

I sense Dexter watching me.

I scramble to my feet.

“Mom! Dad! Are you going home?”

“We are!” my mom giggles. She's a bit drunk. “The rest of the guests have left and Mrs Smithson is just going to bed. Are you coming?”

“Um...”

I realize I don't want to go. I look back at the guys, at Dexter, at Troy. I look at my mom and dad.

My dad looks impatient. I seize my opportunity.

“I might stay for a little while yet,” I say.

Dad's clearly had enough and just wants to get Mom home. Otherwise I don't think he'd ever leave me in a den like this, where everyone's been drinking, and where the scent of male is thick in the air.

But he's still hesitant.

Troy steps in.

“Please don't worry about Tammy, Mr Jensen,” he says, his voice not betraying at all that he's had several beers and a couple of tequila shots. “Me and the guys will take care of her – good care of her – and I promise I'll walk her right to your door when she's ready to go home.”

For some reason my pussy pulses again. My panties feel a little damp too. It must be quite warm in here.

My heart starts to thump.

“If you're sure?” Dad's saying, already turning to steer my wobbly mom out of the room.

“Oh, I'm sure,” Troy says, following behind to usher them both out.

'Not later than two o'clock, Tammy, you hear!' Dad calls over his shoulder as Troy steers them both down the hallway.

I turn to the guys.

“What's next?”

But Dexter’s already handing me another beer.

Chapter 2

“Um, never have I ever...”

We're still sprawled out on the cushions and I'm still working hard to stop flashing my ass and panties to all the guys. Dexter has suggested a few rounds of never-have-I-ever, and I say it sounds like fun.

A little part of me wants to hear what older guys get up to.

As expected, all my never-have-I-ever statements are pretty tame. I can't say I've tried a gay kiss (mind you, the guys don't drink to that either), or that I've made out with a co-worker (I've never had a job), or that I've sent a dirty text to anyone (I wouldn't dare).

I've never had sex outside, or while my parents were in the house, or with more than one guy, or – I shriek at this last one – in my ass.

“No!”

One of the guys, Marcus, is watching me closely. It's his turn to play.

“Never have I ever,” he says, keeping his eyes fixed on mine, “sucked a guy's dick.”

Of course all the guys keep their beer bottles down for that one, and of course I do too. Before I can catch a breath, the next one has his turn.

“Never have I ever... played strip poker.”

I squeal at this one too, because this time I'm going to have to drink. As I raise my beer bottle all the guys stare at me. I raise the bottle up, up, up... and drink deep.

“Damn!”

“No way!”

“When did you strip in front of other people, girl?”

They sound so shocked that I almost can't tell them. And it sounds so tame when I do. Me and my girlfriends, a year ago, on a sleepover. Becca had smuggled in wine and we'd all had some and then someone (me?) had suggested we play strip poker...

The guys don't seem to think it's tame.

“Mmmm,” Troy says, rolling the word around his tongue. “Sounds hot. You sure you haven't ever had a gay kiss?”

“No!”

There's a beat as he looks at me.

“Want to play strip poker now?”

And god help me, I say yes.

I'm really – really bad – at poker.

And I'm really, really, not wearing very much.

I wasn't even wearing much to begin with.

And now... well, it looks like I'm going to be wearing nothing or very close to it very soon—

We sit around the pool table on battered chairs Troy drags over from the other side of the room. As I'm so drunk now, it's a bit of a mission squeezing between three of the guys to the middle chair they say is mine, but I finally make it.

I squint at my cards.

I have the worst hand of all of us for the first two rounds, so of course that's two items of clothing off right away.

I wobble on the chair, taking off first one sandal then, a few minutes later, the other.

The guys watch me closely. They can probably see right down my dress; my tits are probably dropping right out.

Oh well.

I'm suddenly, drunkenly, aware that because I decided not to add stockings to my outfit, I'm only wearing three other things. My dress, my bra – and my panties.

I can't take any of those three off in front of six guys!

I sway on the chair, blinking at the next poker hand. I'm reprieved for the next couple of rounds, when first Troy and then Terence loses and each has to strip off one piece of clothing.

Neither of them bothers with taking off shoes or anything lame like that. They each stand and pull off their T-shirts. They each have fine – fine – chests and stomachs, ripped and inked, the muscles rippling and the stomachs flat.

Something stirs in my pussy.

And then I lose the next hand.

I can't take my panties or bra off before my dress! So it's going to have to be my dress—

Taking a deep breath, I stumble off my seat.

'Have to take my dresh off.'

I'm a little shocked at how slurred my voice is. I must be really hammered—

I surely am, because with all six guys staring at me like I'm their own private striptease, I take my dress by the hem and raise it over my head.

I'm so drunk I almost get stuck in it, but someone tugs me free. And there I am, standing there in my lacy black bra and lacy black panties. Tiny lacy black panties. Almost a thong.

The guys whistle, whoop, say I look just fine.

Two of them, I forget their names, approach me. Their faces are like kids at Christmas. One of them strokes my shoulder, flipping his finger under my bra strap.

I try to smile. But now I'm standing, my body's clearly decided to let me know just how hammered it is. The room starts to spin. I think I'm going to throw up.

I sway on my feet.

The finger under my bra strap moves down to the lacy cup, exploring the top of my breast. It feels very surreal, almost like it's happening to someone else. I have a sudden, almost overwhelming, surge of having to move.

“I need to sit down,” I slur.

I stagger towards the pool table. I almost fall because I've forgotten I don't have my shoes on.

I'm aware of the guys standing there in a circle, a tight little knot, as I slump over the pool table, my ass half on and half off of a seat.

“Just need to close my eyes a sec...” I murmur.

I put my head down on my forearms.

Then I'm out.

Chapter 3

I don't think I'm out for long.

But I feel quite comfy when I'm conscious again. I think I'll just sleep here for the evening then go home in the morning—

I know the guys are all still there as they're talking. A couple of them are laughing, sounding like they're being quiet so they don't wake me up. There are urgent whispers.

“Damn, I wanted to see those titties!”

“And that ass. Did you see when we were on the floor, and her dress...?”

“Dirty little bitch wanted us to look.”

“That's the truth.”

There's a pause.

Then, quickly suppressed, muted laughter.

Sounds of agreement.

I sprawl there, face down on the pool table. My heart starts to thump again.

But somehow, I don't move.

I feel hands at me, under my waist.

I'm lifted up and settled down again on the pool table.

I'm still slumped forward, my head on my forearms, but now I'm bent over the table, my feet on the floor, my ass raised.

There's a hand at my ass, groping roughly. Then a little drift of breeze over my cheeks, and I know my panties have been pushed aside.

The guys make appreciative noises.

“That's fine.”

“Mighty fine.”

A pause.

Then:

“Time to see what that little pussy looks like.”

A thrill of excitement surges in me as my panties are tugged off.

I wonder if they'd stop if I told them to.

Probably not.

I'm don’t intend to find out.

A hand gropes between my legs, parting them. A thumb rubs up and down at my clit, the way no-one else has apart from me. Then, without any warning, fingers – two? three? – are shoved deep inside me.

I gasp a little, but over the guys' sniggers and the music, no-one hears.

“How does that snatch feel?” someone says.

“Mighty fine,” the man with his fingers fucking my pussy says. “Mighty fine.”

“Tight?”

“Tight as fuck. I guess that Brad dude isn't giving little Miss Tammy here what she needs.”

“She needs to feel a real dick.”

“She's going to.”

The fingers slip in and out of me, sometimes rough, sometimes less so. His hands are callused. This might be Marcus, who said earlier he plays guitar.

“Gimme a turn,” someone else says.

“Nah,” Mr Fingers says. “I'm plunging my cock into this tight little cunt first. If she wakes up, she's gonna wake up squealing.”

“And then you stretch that fine tight little pussy with your monster dick, and we don't get to feel that virgin little cunt for ourselves? Nope, move over.”

I'm not a virgin, I think.

But, then, I may as well be. I don't have much experience of cocks, but I have a feeling Brad's is what Becca calls needle dick. I sure didn't feel much with it inside me.

There's a hushed discussion behind me, then the fingers withdraw from my pussy.

Then there are more inside me, different fingers, first one then two then three, fucking my slit.

I'm getting wet, really wet—

More fingers. Then more. They're all taking a turn, feeling how tight my may-as-well-be virgin pussy is before one of them rips me open with his cock.

Are they really going to fuck me right here on this pool table?

With my panties ripped off me and my ass exposed to six men – who'll all watch my cunt get pounded from behind?

My pussy pulses again.

There's laughter behind me.

“This little bitch is wet!” the guy currently with his fingers inside me says.

More laughter.

“Dirty little whore.”

“See what she can take, then.”

“Oh, I'm gonna.”

Rough hands at my thighs, lifting my ass up still further. The sound of a zipper. Fingers digging into my flesh, hard enough that I know they'll mark my pale skin.

Then, something – huge – at my entrance.

It pushes insistently, trying to get in.

“Fuck,” the man grunts, pushing forward so his balls hit my ass. “She is – so – fucking – tight...”

He shoves forward with each word, forcing his way inside me. It’s like being split open—

He grips my thighs harder and harder as he invades me, inch by inch.

Then – suddenly – a gushing sound, something is wet, and he's all the way in in one relentless thrust.

I almost scream into my arms. He – is – huge. Huge. I'm being stretched as much as I can take – and then some more.

He grunts again.

“Fuck, that feels good.”

He starts to slide in and out of me, not too hard at first but quickly getting rougher. My eyes are squeezed shut, moisture leaking from their sides at the sheer force and strength of his cock, battering into me. My thighs are sticky and wet.

He pumps me, his fingers marking my thighs, his balls slapping my ass. I am pounded, fucked, completely filled – and oh it feels so good.

My pussy is almost wrapping around this cock, as it pounds in and out of my sopping wet cunt. I ride with it, letting it happen, letting him do whatever he wants to me.

Anyway, I don't fancy my chances telling him to stop—

“Yo Dexter,” pants the man fucking me. “You know if this bitch is on birth control?”

“Dunno,” Dexter says. “Probably, she has a boyfriend.”

“Then I'm gonna fill her – right the fuck up—”

He jerks harder and faster into me, pumping me hard, making me almost scream again as he stretches me still further. I feel him come, hot spurts of it shooting inside me, flooding my pussy.

He gasps above me.

“Hot damn, that was good—”

Someone else speaks.

“Outta the way, man. She's got five more of us to take, and she ain't going nowhere till she does.”

Another cock rams into me.

It's easier this time, because I'm fully open now and because my cunt is slick with my juices and the first man's come. But it's still tough, rough, up to my uterus, the cock smacking into me, the man gripping my ass hard enough to bruise.

The next one, Dexter I think, is as big as the first. He lifts me fully up so my feet are off the floor, riding me wheelbarrow-style, plunging into my very centre. It's even deeper than the first guy because of how he holds me, and I have never felt so fucked, so stuffed in my life.

His dick pulses inside me as he comes. And when he finally pulls out the come from the three men who've fucked me so far trickles down my thighs.

I am fucked, battered, bruised, loaded with come.

And now here's Marcus. I hear them laughing his name, telling him to do it, split this bitch open.

He enters me right away, forcing his full length into me in one hard, merciless thrust.

They weren't joking – this is really a monster cock—

I've never felt anything like it. My pussy is on fire, like I'm being torn in two—

None of them have been gentle, but Marcus clearly likes it rough. Really rough.

I struggle to take it, the tears now running freely down my face. My pussy is battered and raw. I'm being stuffed even more, with not a millimeter to spare.

I don't know if I can take any more—

But I don't think they'll stop now even if I beg them. Even if they know I'm awake.

I just need to take it, let them use me, then I can get safely home.

Something's happening.

A fluttering sensation begins around my ass, like fingers drumming gently on wood. The flutters get stronger, moving to my pussy and clit. And then – and then—

“Damn!” Marcus says, stopping his pounding for a second. “This little cunt just came all over my dick!”

Roars of laughter. Hoots of You go dude! and Give it to her good.

Then he's fucking me again, each thrust giving me another ride of that wave.

Luckily he doesn't last much longer after that. He pumps into me, his hand twisted in my hair, his voice a guttural cry.

Come flows out of me when he withdraws. My thighs are sticky, all the way to my toes. I'm probably standing in a puddle of come.

Treacherously, my pussy twitches again.

Even though my pussy is raw, torn and aching, even though they're the fifth and sixth guys my almost-virgin cunt is taking in one session, the last two guys are easy. My pussy is wide open, gaping, dripping come, letting each of them slide in and out as they take it in turn to fuck my spent hole.

The last one comes. Withdraws from my aching cunt.

I lie face down on the pool table, my bare ass exposed, the come of six men oozing out of me.

Thoroughly used.

Thoroughly fucked.

What will they do now? Will they leave me here, dumped over the table, to “wake up” and wonder what's happened? Will they lift me to the sofa, cover me with a blanket, pretend they just put me to bed when I passed out?

A voice rumbles behind me. Dexter, I think, or maybe Marcus.

“I still want to see those titties.”

More laughter. I feel them moving closer, standing over me. There are hands on my body, gripping my bruised ass and thighs.

The men flip me over onto my back.

Someone whistles.

“Must've been a virgin, look at all that blood.”

A hand rubs my inner thigh, moving in a patch of stickiness that I'd thought must be come.

“That'll be me,” a voice says. “I took her first, smashed all the way through.”

There are noises of agreement. I'm a bit confused, because Brad and I definitely did it, we definitely had sex.

But then I think his needle dick just didn't open me properly. Not like these guys—

There are hands at my bra. Fingers at my back, unclasping.

My double-Ds flop free.

Hoots of appreciation. Hands all over my tits, squeezing, groping, digging in. A tongue at my nipple.

“Fuck this,” someone says. “I'm having this bitch again.”

And he does. And they all do, forcing themselves once more into my tattered, raw, bleeding pussy, gripping my tits as one by one they all fuck me. And all come. Again.

My cunt is full. I've been fucked twelve times, had twelve lots of come shooting straight into me. When the guys lift me off the pool table and set me on my feet the come flows straight out of me. When they set me on a chair it oozes out onto the wood.

“Bitch been fucked good,” one of them observes.

“We'll have her over here again,” Troy says. “I'm taking that ass next time.”

Murmurs of agreement. Then my bra is snapped back on, my scrap of lacy panties drawn up my legs and over my ass, my dress slipped back down over my head.

“You gonna clean the jizz off of her?” someone asks.

“Nah,” Troy says. “Let her wake up tomorrow and wonder what the fuck happened.”

More laughter. I'm placed back over the pool table again, in the position I passed out in.

I decide it's time to “wake up”.

I yawn and stretch, lifting my head and blinking in the light.

“Oh! I must have fallen asleep! How silly of me! What time is it?”

Troy checks his phone.

“One thirty.”

“Oh! Wow. Would you mind walking me home? I know it's only down the street, but you never know what might happen to a girl on her own at this time of night...”

“Of course,” Troy says. “I'll keep you safe.”

“Thank you,” I say.

I look at all the guys in turn.

“I had such a good time,” I trill. “Thank you so much for having me.”

And then, my sandals in my hand, my coat over my arm, and leaving five guys wondering just what I might have meant by that, I link my arm in Troy's to go home.

THE END

Want more?

Read on for a preview of Santa is COMING, a hot and filthy BDSM Christmas romance!

Santa is COMING

A hot and filthy BDSM Christmas romance

PROLOGUE

Her instructions were clear. She was to wear a short dress, very short, just skimming her ass.

Underneath – sheer black stockings. And the Santa panties couriered to her this morning by... him. Her Dom for the night.

The panties are red, lacy, edged with white fur. They make her feel deliciously slutty.

Even so, she quakes with nerves. It's her first time doing anything like this. Is she crazy? She can still pull out, go home...

She knocks on the door of the lodge.

Then, as instructed, she turns her back.

She is not to see him at any time.

CHAPTER 1

Master D waits by the fireplace. The flogger and blindfold are on the bed. His cock throbs with need and anticipation.

He wonders what she'll be like. If she'll be any good.

If she’ll be good. Obedient.

If she'll freak out when she realizes.

This had – she had – better be good. It's the first time he's used this agency, an exclusive service that promises to match experienced Doms with willing subs. Mistress Raven assures him he'll be pleased with the sub she sends. He quizzed Raven closely, several times, to make sure.

He'll wait and see. It's certainly been expensive enough, just for the matchmaking. And extra for the clothing requirements, and extra again to have the Santa panties couriered to her.

She'd better be worth it.

A knock at the door.

He's there in an instant, moving swiftly for a man of his size. He opens the door a crack to see if she's obeyed her first instruction. She has – her back is to him.

He blindfolds her, expertly and quickly.

Already, she quivers.

Perfect.

He taps her on one shoulder.

“Come.”

She turns around and almost stumbles into the room. He guides her to the bed, pushing her forward so her knees hit the footboard.

“Let me see you.”

She obeys. She slips off her long red coat and lets it drop to the floor. As requested, she's wearing a black mini dress. It’s a little longer than he ordered.

He'll deal with that later.

And now – he'll see how much she's obeyed his other orders.

“Present yourself to me.”

His voice is rough, harsh.

She gasps slightly, almost imperceptibly.

But again she obeys.

She leans forward to place her palms on the bed. She raises her ass, presenting herself to him, the red Santa panties curved around her ripe cheeks.

Like a bitch in heat.

Nice.

He takes a swift step forward, grabbing her, shoving her dress up around her hips. She's obeyed his instructions exactly on the stockings and panties. She has a fine rounded ass, full and tanned, like peaches. Below it, her pussy waits for him.

He inspects her.

He pushes the panties to aside to see her smoothly bare mound. He doesn't touch further, not yet. But she's breathing hard now, struggling to remain in control.

He leans over her, his stubble grazing her cheek. She jerks slightly, then stills.

He murmurs into her ear.

“Do you have a safe word, sub?”

Available now!

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More taboo fiction from Susannah K Stone

ONE STEAMY SUMMER - FOUR HOT TABOO STORIES IN A RAUNCHY BOX SET!

A steamy #newadult biker romance from an Amazon bestselling author: “stories so hot they’ll melt your Kindle!”

“You want me to take you? Make you mine?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes.”

An innocent girl. A tattooed biker. A steamy clash of wills…

18-year-old Toni’s not as grownup as she thinks. Sure, she’s an adult now, off to college after this hot London summer. There’s just one thing she wants to do first – seduce Tom, the hot older man she shares a house with.

Toni thinks she’s in charge. She’s about to find out otherwise…

One Steamy Summer is a sizzling Daddy Dom romance featuring an older man and a younger woman. It has hot scenes, including ménage, and is for over-18s only.

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From the author

Thanks for reading Christmas STUFFING - I hope you enjoyed it and it fulfilled its purpose as a naughty steamy short read :)

If you liked the story, I’d love if you could leave a review at my Amazon page! You can access all my books, plus follow me for updates, at https://bit.ly/SMARTSMUTBOOKS

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Susannah K xx

About the Author

Susannah K Stone is an Irish writer and smutty sub author of steamy and dark romance about tough alpha males and the women who fell them. She’s the author of the acclaimed Rebel Love prison bully dark romance series CAPTURED, HUNTED and FREED (plus bonus epilogue RELEASED) - read the five-star reviews at http://bit.ly/smartsmutbooks).

Under her previous L.A. Cox pen name, Susannah is an Amazon bestseller of taboo erotica short stories including the popular Toni and Tom titles. She now writes as Susannah K Stone/Smart Smut Books, with several smutty and dark titles due in 2020 and 2021.

Susannah is also the published author of two literary fiction novels; a qualified journalist with hundreds of international publishing credits; and a fiction editor of 15 years’ experience. She’s a southpaw boxer with a 100% win record in fights.

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Also by Susannah K Stone

REBEL LOVE - a prison bully dark romance:

“Holy crap! Such an amazing story. So dark and intense. So many plot twists to keep me glued to the story. Sizzling chemistry. A unique relationship between the characters. Ten stars!!”

CAPTURED

HUNTED

FREED

Sample this explosive, acclaimed series for free! http://bit.ly/freedarkromance

Coming soon:

CHAOS AT CULLEN HIGH - 30 November 2020

CARNAGE AT CULLEN COMP - February 2021

CONFLICT IN CULLEN TOWN - May 2021

Also in 2021:

CULLEN COLLEGE Book 1

CULLEN COLLEGE Book 2

CULLEN MUNCH CLUB - a BDSM standalone romance (Book 1)

CULLEN MUNCH CLUB - a BDSM standalone romance (Book 2)

LOCKDOWN LOCKUP - a BDSM standalone romance