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Disgusted: With You (Hanzel Stone)


Disgusted: With You by Hanzel Stone

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Disgusted: With You is book two in the Disgusted series and gives you the male point of view. (Disgusted: With You also includes the bonus book Lin Fong - An Erotic Short Story.)

Women with low self esteem are always targets for certain types of men, particularly if the woman is a hot red haired MILF. Fresh from a night of being taken advantage of Tessa is back at the bar when her new male friend walks in. The night before when he'd put her into the taxi cab he promised to call her and he did. But is she about to make the same mistake that she did last night?

Here's an (edited) excerpt from Disgusted: With You -

As I enter the bar I watch out of the corner of my eye as you look up from the drink that you’ve been nursing. My guess is you’re drinking tequila again, probably a Tequila Sunrise, as that’s your favorite ‘adult beverage’ to get totally trashed on. Not that I really care, but I allow myself to wonder if you remember anything about the night before, about my helping you out of the public restroom where we had our first encounter doing things that make even a professional blush.

Still looking at me in the mirror, you open your mouth to speak, unable to keep the sarcasm from creeping into your voice. “I wasn’t sure you were going to call,” you say.

I pretend to be shocked and hurt by your comment (in truth I don’t really give a crap), give you a mock look of surprise followed by my best smile as I take the seat next to you at the bar. “Don’t I always do what I say I’m going to do Tessa?” I ask, then motion to the bartender to bring me a gin and tonic and to refill your drink, heavy on the tequila.

You try to match my charm and return my smile but immediately shut your eyes as the pounding from the headache that started the night before reappears. You remember the sound of your alarm going off at 4 p.m., the tinny alert from the clock shooting and ricocheting through your brain like some kind of human pin ball machine. When you finally woke up your migraine was in full swing, and the disgusting combination of fluids lingered in your mouth, tasting like the entire Russian army had marched through your mouth. In short, you felt like crap.

This entire scene unfolds in your mind and the corner of my mouth twists upward in what some might consider an evil grin, any sign of empathy or heaven forbid sympathy nowhere to be found, the thought of the condition that you are now in thanks to me giving me a perverse feeling of pleasure. Did I say ‘perverse’? That's laughable!. In no way do I feel bad about what you allowed me to do to you. You disgusted me and I simply did what comes natural to a woman like you, treated you the way you wanted and needed to be treated.

To read this story with the female POV check out Degraded: In The Bath

Product type: EBook    Published by: author - self-published    Published: 12 / 2015

No. words: 11284

Style: MILF Erotica, Erotic Domination - M/F

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


Excerpt


As I enter the bar I watch out of the corner of my eye as you look up from the drink that you’ve been nursing. My guess is you’re drinking tequila again, probably a Tequila Sunrise, as that’s your favorite ‘adult beverage’ to get totally trashed on. Not that I really care, but I allow myself to wonder if you remember anything about the night before, about my helping you out of the restroom where I’d just violated you, in so many disgusting ways that even a professional whore would blush. About my taking you to the taxi and sliding you into the back seat so that you got safely home to your family last night.

I walk up behind your bar stool and you look up at my reflection in the mirror. Your eyes are still a bit cloudy, your face still a bit flushed, but it does seem that the tequila in the Sunrise is beginning to sober you up. ‘Hair of the dog that bit you,’ as they say.

Still looking at me in the mirror, you open your mouth to speak, unable to keep the sarcasm from creeping into your voice. “I wasn’t sure you were going to call,” you say.

I pretend to be shocked and hurt by your comment (in truth I don’t really give a shit), give you a mock look of surprise followed by my best smile as I take the seat next to you at the bar. “Don’t I always do what I say I’m going to do Tessa?” I ask, then motion to the bartender to bring me a gin and tonic and to refill your drink, heavy on the tequila, because I don’t want you overly sober tonight.

You try to match my charm and return my smile but immediately shut your eyes as the pounding from the headache that started the night before reappears. You remember the sound of your alarm going off at 4 p.m., the tinny alert from the clock shooting and ricocheting through your brain like some kind of human pin ball machine. When you finally woke up your migraine was in full swing, and the disgusting combination of vomit, alcohol and sperm lingered in your mouth, tasting like the entire Russian army had shot their rocks in your mouth. In short, you felt like shit.

You reach over the nightstand to slide the alarm clock lever off, managing to spill the half-empty glass of now rancid beer that you’d used to wash down one too many sleeping pills last night.

“Mom?” you daughter Brianna’s voice rings out from downstairs, the shrillness of her tone forcing another white-hot bolt of pain to shoot through you brain. “Mom? Time to get up!”

Role model you are not, Tessa, since your daughter has seen you hung over the morning - or afternoon - after one too many times, you having gotten totally wasted and shit-faced the night before. You lean up on one elbow to begin your ascent from the bed, staring at the puddle of beer staining the hard wood floor below and make a mental note to avoid stepping in it with your bare feet. You also note the remnants of beer still in the spilled glass, and drain what remains of the room temperature golden liquid before getting your sorry ass out of bed.

“Mom . . . !” your daughter’s voice rings up the stairs for the umpteenth time.

“Coming honey!” you call down to Brianna, doing your best to put a motherly-sounding tone in your voice. You’ve been through this routine so many times before Tessa that you’ve got it down pat. If you respond quickly enough you know that she won’t come upstairs to see that you’ve once again passed out in the clothes that you wore the night before. Even though she’s seen you like this before you figure that you’re still her mother and that you need to set the best example that you can. Flipping off the covers you notice what looks to be a now-permanent stain on last night’s dress, a wet spot right between where your boobs would normally be.


Author Information

Hanzel Stone is a 30-something erotica author currently residing in South America with her very friendly black Labrador Retriever. She is an avid traveler and seeker of new adventures, and has been through most of North and South America, Europe, Southeast Asia and Australia.

Her writing draws in part on her personal life experiences, combined with an equal mixture of fiction and fantasy, and spiced with just the right amount of salacious nastiness!

In her erotica Hanzel explores the most intimate relationships between men and women, women and women, men and men, and pretty much any combination there of, all of which you are most welcome to visit with her. Readers will find an up-to-date list of her books at http://HanzelStone.com

 

Publisher Information

This story has been self-published by the author


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