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Kelly's Quickies Volume Fourteen (Kelly Addams)



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In this edition of Kelly's Quickies:

Reba's Secret Lover

Reba remembers early summers spent with her grandparents, and the spooky old house that always terrified her with its strange sounds and sudden chills, but now her grandparents are gone and the house has come to her in their will, surely ghosts don't exist, and even if they did exist, surely they wouldn't be able to touch her? Little does she know that they do exist, they can touch her... and Reba is about to learn a few frightening truths about her ancestors, truths that have been hidden for over two hundred years.

Alison's Swap

Mike suggests that to spice things up a little Alison, his wife of five years, should consider swapping with a couple he knows from work. To his amazement she finally agrees, but what Mike doesn't understand about his quiet wife is that she has a vivid imagination, and is more than happy to act out her wildest and darkest fantasies while he is busy with another man's wife.

Findom Fiona

Fiona fell into the Domination lifestyle by accident, but soon understood the huge potential for fun and profit when she meets Pay Pig Alan, a fund manager who submits to her and worships the sexy young woman as a goddess. But Fiona gets greedy and pushes the limits... and that is the beginning of a problem that could destroy their lives.

Product type: EBook    Published by:     Published: 01 / 2017

No. words: 11054

Style: Erotic Fantasy, Swingers Erotica

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle

Click Here For All Books In This Series


Reba stared at the piles of wooden packing cases and cardboard boxes that were stacked in the dusty echoing room and sighed. She had a mountain of work ahead of her.
The house was inherited of course, on her salary she couldn't afford to buy such a rambling property, and it had history, that's what she had been told. All that she did know for sure is that during the prolonged summer visits to her grandparents when she was a child the old house had terrified her. The way it creaked, like it was alive and breathing, how even during the hottest nights she would wake shivering almost like she lay in an icy mist. But those things she could have accepted if it hadn't have been for the voices, the whispering that only she could hear. Someone knew her name and spoke quietly to her in the dead of night... and Reba would lie awake gripped by her fear and praying fervently for the dawn. With the first ray of light it would end, it always did. The voices would be silenced, the chill would leave her flesh, the fear would lift from her... and often she would manage to convince herself it had been nothing more sinister than a bad dream.
That was the sensible option, it had to be imagination, because if it wasn't, if she accepted what happened as real... well, it would back her into a corner... and Reba didn't want to face those thoughts, because as everyone knows... ghosts just don't exist!
But now the creepy old house was hers, and like it or not she would have to learn to live with its quirks and idiosyncrasies. She couldn't sell it, that was a stipulation of her inheritance, it had to remain in the family, just as it had been for generations. She was to be a custodian of sorts, she could call it home and on paper at least it was... except for the clauses, never sell and never change the structure... repairs were fine, painting and the necessary works required for a house of its age, but no structural changes... nothing added, nothing taken away!
It wasn't a problem for Reba to agree, the house was too big already so she would never consider extending... and why take anything away? It was her grandparents home, remembered from balmy summers, each and every room held memories for her... true, it had scared her as a child, but she still wouldn't consider changing the old place.
Anyway, I was just a kid then she told herself, a kid with a vivid imagination and a screwed up home life!
Her parents fought, then drunk some more, then fought some more. I was a never ending cycle of anger and abuse. Not physical, she could never accuse them of that, but the verbal and mental abuse... that was constant.
That's probably why my mind invented the voices! She paused and considered. They had never shouted at her, they didn't swear at her or tell her how useless she was, what a disappointment she had become. She never could quite remember what they whispered in the darkness but it wasn't spite or scorn, that much she knew for sure. I was comforting myself with calm and friendly voices... but if that's the case, why was I so scared?
Reba shook her head to dispel the logical conclusion. It doesn't matter, that's in the past... I'm not a kid anymore, I'm a grown woman who doesn't fear anything! She was alone now, parents lost in an accident, grandparents lost to the inescapable grasp of age... only she remained, and she had grown strong, a fighter... resilient.
Now she faced her first night back in the old house, after how many years? The question gave her pause, it has to be at least five years, maybe even six.
“I was fifteen!” she remembered, the year before she moved away with her mother. They had split up again, her parents, nothing new there, but this time her mother had packed their bags and run away in the night. It had signalled Reba's last summer with her grandparents, on her father's side. The battle for custody had raged, and she had been spared a little of the agony at boarding school.
She always found it sadly ironic that the accident took her warring parents on the very same day as their reconciliation!
Foster parents had taken the damaged teen into their home when it became clear that none of her surviving family were capable or able, senility had taken its toll and until the age of eighteen she had been a ward of the court. College saved her, she had some cash, well, a managed trust that took care of her education... and upon reaching the age of twenty one she claimed her inheritance. A crumbling old mansion and a modest lump sum to cover the upkeep and maintenance.
“Lady of the manor!” she chuckled as she watched dust drifting through the bright blades of light that stabbed through closed but ill-fitting shutters. “Basics first!” She was a practical girl, she needed a way to cook and a comfortable place to sleep first... everything else would follow. And so she set about her old bedroom with a mop and duster. Stripping away the sheets she dragged the mattress out onto the balcony to air and cast open all the windows to drive out the hints of mustiness that lingered. Next she attacked the kitchen, floors were swept, cupboards scrubbed, the huge range filled with logs and kindling and lit. It would heat the water for her bath, it would cook a meal... she needed nothing more at that moment.
“I'll bring the mattress in now.” she told herself after relaxing with steaming coffee, “Then see if the water is hot enough yet for a bath!” And climbing the stairs she hummed happily determined to set her bedroom in order first.
But her happy humming quickly died as she approached the stripped bed, being an exceptionally old house the room was warmed in winter by an open fire, the chimney had been blocked long ago but that didn't stop the occasional soot fall that spread a thin film of black dust across the polished wooden floor. The soot had fallen again, but that wasn't what froze her heart and caught the breath in her throat.
In the dust a mark had been made, more than a simple random mark, a word had been scraped in the soot... a name.

Author Information

30 something married nymph with a very dirty mind!
WARNING: You will find nothing vanilla in any of the books that I write, I don't even like vanilla ice-cream!
Taboo, taboo and more taboo, so be warned before sampling the products of my filthy mind.


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