Seduction can be a useful tool for giving pleasure and to secure love, money and power. In the wrong hands, especially those of a young woman who has not yet learned to use the power of seductions with purpose, this gift can cause a great amount of pain and heartache.
Ayana Cherry soon learns that her new home in a quiet wealthy suburb of Indianapolis has just as many opportunities for sexual intrigue and deception as the raw streets of Los Angeles. She never imagined that she would be exposed to a secret world of strippers and pimps, and the lies, infidelity, and voyeuristic lust of the family and otherwise respectable neighbors she'd at first believed were simple squares living the good life. Realizing her natural powers of seduction in this place of sexual decorum could cost her more than she can handle.
Seduction can be a useful tool for giving pleasure and to secure love, money and power. In the wrong hands, especially those of a young woman who has not yet learned to use the power of seductions with purpose, this gift can cause a great amount of pain and heartache.
Ayana Cherry soon learns that her new home in a quiet wealthy suburb of Indianapolis has just as many opportunities for sexual intrigue and deception as the raw streets of Los Angeles. She never imagined that she would be exposed to a secret world of strippers and pimps, and the lies, infidelity, and voyeuristic lust of the family and otherwise respectable neighbors she'd at first believed were simple squares living the good life. Realizing her natural powers of seduction in this place of sexual decorum could cost her more than she can handle.
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Overview
Seduction can be a useful tool for giving pleasure and to secure love, money and power. In the wrong hands, especially those of a young woman who has not yet learned to use the power of seductions with purpose, this gift can cause a great amount of pain and heartache.
Ayana Cherry soon learns that her new home in a quiet wealthy suburb of Indianapolis has just as many opportunities for sexual intrigue and deception as the raw streets of Los Angeles. She never imagined that she would be exposed to a secret world of strippers and pimps, and the lies, infidelity, and voyeuristic lust of the family and otherwise respectable neighbors she'd at first believed were simple squares living the good life. Realizing her natural powers of seduction in this place of sexual decorum could cost her more than she can handle.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781452070841 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 09/16/2010 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 324 |
| File size: | 520 KB |
Read an Excerpt
The Seduction of Ayana Cherry
Sequel to A Neighborly AffairBy PETER MACK
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2010 Peter Mack Presents, LLCAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-7082-7
Chapter One
Stacy didn't know how to feel about the way the rising horizontal stream of light seeping in through the sheer peach curtains, announced a new day. They were parted in such a way so as to allow a narrow slice of sunlight across the torso of Marlin's muscular deep brown chest. She'd watched the burgeoning glow rise from the foot of the bed, creeping along the flower print comforter, until it reached the chiseled stomach of her husband.She was transfixed by its glow, her eyes moving to Marlin's shuttered eyes. Behind the long dark lashes and the shiny lids, his eyeballs roamed as if he were in deep thought. She watched his sharply defined face closely; the way his wide full lips gently touched each other, revealing the occasional stab of his thick pink tongue to the soft part at the center of his lips.
There was something new in his face. Something that she could not quite grasp a hold of; something that she felt she should be feeling as well. She'd at first thought that this new brightness in his face was because he was back on the football field; but when that glow had passed there was a new glow that had to do with something that felt more intimate.
He stirred as the warm shelf of light caressed his neck and touched the underside of his chin. Stacy followed his strong hand as it slid along his stomach and disappeared beneath the comforter. He'd exhaled, his torso rising and falling slightly with this movement, his lips parting slightly as he grabbed his erect meat, lifting the comforter to form a tent. He stroked himself slowly, his face turning away from Stacy's glowing eyes.
She hadn't yet figured what her feelings should be about his private moments. Again, he's seemed to regain his sexual appetite with his return to the football field, but when he made love to her it felt as if he were thinking of someone else. The familiarity and tenderness with which they'd made love before moving to Indianapolis, before his injury, before she was the only one working and supporting them both, had been replaced by something foreign and impersonal.
Still, she remained dedicated to keeping him satisfied. She wanted to prove everyone wrong about her. They said that she was a typical professional athlete's wife. They said that she would divorce him when he was injured and released from the Seattle Seahawk. She couldn't yell loud enough for them to understand that she really loved him. Hadn't she proven this by supporting him through rehab? Why should she feel guilty because she'd gotten a good opportunity and he had to follow her across the country? She tried to make him comfortable every chance she got. But lately ...
The fresh sunlight crawled across his flared nostrils and pulled at his sloping eyelids. She reached out to pull the comforter away from the stake wrapped gently in his fist. When she looked back to his eyes they were watching her.
"Good morning," she greeted him huskily, pushing away her curiosity about what or who he was dreaming about.
Marlin's dark brown eyes were smoky with passion. They changed depth and color as he focused on his wife. He seemed to only now realize that he was grabbing his swollen joint.
"No!" she said, reaching for his hand as he pulled it across his stomach. "Keep going," she urged him. "I enjoy watching." She smiled crookedly, her almond shaped hazel eyes twinkling in the early morning light.
"How long you been up?" he asked, stopping short of "watching me sleep."
"Not that long," she answered before looking back to his deflating erection. She was committed to keeping him satisfied. Though she felt him purring away as of late, she was determined to prove everyone wrong. Their marriage was for real and would last until death parted them.
"You want me to finish that for you?"
Marlin raised his arms and cradled the back of his head in his palms. He looked down the length of his body as she leaned over him and wrapped her thin lips around the tender head of his dick.
Stacy closed her eyes in concentration. She worked hard to get this part right. She was glad that he allowed her this attempt after a four-day suspension; she scraped her teeth across the ridge of his helmet. She opened her mouth wide and licked the base of his flaccid joint tenderly, enjoying the feeling of him growing inside of her mouth. His muscular thighs tense under her as she sucked him slowly and carefully. She reminded herself not to get too excited and accidentally cause him pain. She twirled his fleshy nut sacs between her fingers, taking the caress of his hand across her petite ass as a sign she was doing a good job. She moved with his urging, settling over him as her pulsing pussy lay over his chest. She exhaled over his shining member as he pushed a thick finger past the fine brown hairs on her pussy into her warmth. She moaned as she sucked on the swollen head hard, making his body jerk.
"SUNNY! ..." a whining voice called out, causing her to jump, scraping her teeth over Marlin's dick. The result was a flurry of activity that found him bucking her from the bed and landing her on the hard wood floor.
"Gotdamn, Stacy!" Marlin shouted, jumping from the bed holding his dick as he strolled towards the bathroom, ignoring the familiar blur of thick black hair and chocolate limbs outside his window.
"SUNNY!" came the voice again, this time an octave lower, perhaps having heard Marlin's complaint and the slamming bathroom door.
Stacy made no move to rise. She felt like she could stay there and cry until her entire naked body shriveled up and disappeared through the tight cracks of the floor boards. She tried and tried and tried, but every time she came close to feeling like they were back to where they'd started, there was something new added to the mix. He'd said that he didn't mind when her father needed to live with them. How could he say no when she was paying all the bills? Still, she included him in the decision so that his pride would not be threatened. She'd told him how her father had been abused in the assisted living community. He would only stay with them long enough for her to find a safe place for him to live. It had been a week and her father had successfully thwarted every attempt she made to satisfy her husband. Of course he had no way of knowing the distance between them of late.
"Blimey HOTTENTOT! Sunny! Pray tell why I'm left to ROT!" he screeched in his sing-songy southern voice laced with sugary lemonade being sipped on a wide wooden porch. He had a voice that reminded the listener of a simpler time of horses and general stores behind a blacksmith.
"Here I come daddy," she called back, lifting herself from the warming floor. It was not enough that she let him come live with her, but he never seemed to sleep at all. He was not the man she remembered from her childhood or even her college days. She remembered him as an outgoing silent man who didn't suffer fools. The last five years had changed him, beginning with her mother's death and then the slow deterioration of his eyesight. Stacy was still not sure of how much of his mental rot was genuine or manufactured. Sometimes she felt as if he were playing one long con and everyone, including his only loving doting daughter, was being taken for a ride of extreme sympathy gathering.
"Sorry about that," she said to Marlin as she opened the bathroom door. She saw a glimmer of anger in his eyes through the mirror as he looked to her sharply. His cheeks were fat with mouthwash. He spit a frothy mix of toothpaste and Scope into the sink.
"Don't worry about it," he assured her, resigned to the fact that she would never win a medal for sucking dick. He ignored the way she sat on the toilet, her piss streaming loudly into the bowl, and rest her chin dejectedly in her palms. Let her feel some kind of way, he thought to himself.
"SUNNY! Blimey fool I am to think you care!"
Marlin smiled at this muted insult, looking back to Stacy as she remained seated. "I'll see what he wants."
She forced a tight smile. "He probably wants the curtains opened."
"Then that's what he'll get," Marlin replied cheerfully, having shaken his earlier pain, as he stepped from the bathroom.
The flush of the toilet followed Stacy to the door where she pushed to close it. She stood naked before the full length mirror and admired her petite frame with its palm-size breasts, tight ass and slim hips. She rubbed her stomach tenderly, wishing that there was life forming inside. Maybe that would bring us closer together, she thought. Maybe the boy that Marlin spoke less of now would bring him back to her in a way that would assuage her insecurity. Like a much needed crutch she leaned on the fact that she was a beautiful, cultured, corporate executive to return a bounce to her step as she grabbed a silk robe from a hook on the wall.
The living room was bathed in light, the rays bouncing through the finely appointed space; a lighting on the crystal center piece on the glass dining room table before cascading across the gold framed photos atop the fireplace ledge and settling on the lean figure of her father; he sat ensconced in the plush leather easy chair looking blindly to her now. He gathered his collapsed lips together in preparation for what he wanted to say. The effect was that of a man trying to chew cotton.
"Good morning daddy," Stacy said as she skipped past the dining room table and glided to where he sat in the living room, glancing quickly to the porn scene on the plasma screen before leaning to kiss his roughly stubbled face.
He leaned away just as she drew near. "Pigeon beak!" he yelped out. "Happy pop ain't happy at all." He looked to a spot above the plasma screen where a large dark-skinned woman was riding a slim white man with abandon. It was no wonder that she didn't break his body in half.
"Yo Grump! How many slices you want?" Marlin asked from the kitchen.
"What are you making?" Stacy wanted to know.
"Never mind you that. The boy got some pig and some chicken eggs. Why?" her father asked with a twitch of his lips, his small head suspended on a narrow, wrinkled neck the color of hot bronze. Wisps of sparse gray hair stood from his round skull. He had the fine, pointed features that Stacy inherited. Her light caramel color came from her mother. She had his hazel eyes, too, but with the cataracts attacking his left eye and seeping into his right, the effect was of a man with marble colored eyes that changed color in varying degrees of light; right now they were a light bold color shot through with sparks of cloudy white.
"I'm hungry too daddy," she said in her most innocent, girly voice. Grump shot both hands out in front of him as if waving away a batch of flies.
"Tell me what's happening on the box. Why they stop humping?" he wanted to know. "Put the whole pack oink oink in there son," he called, his face turned skyward.
"It's over daddy. The credits are rolling."
"No no no," he motioned when Stacy moved away from him. "It's another one coming too. This is the good one," he said gleefully while rubbing his weathered palms together. The flannel pajamas hung loose from his thin body except for the bulge that sat in his lap like a coiled snake, stretching the fabric so that it bunched up suggestively.
The smell of bacon soon wafted into the living room. The house was coming alive. "It's time for you to get to the white folk. You ain't hungry Sunny," he said with a toothless grin. "You never eat." He reached a bony arm out until she found her way within his grasp. He pulled her to the side of the easy chair and let his fingers drum against her hip bone.
"Did you sleep well daddy?"
The sun bathed his leather tough skin, making it glow as he lifted his chin to her question. "I'm all alone marshmallow."
Stacy felt her heart being squeezed. "I know, daddy. It's just hard finding someone to trust."
"Blimey!" he hissed, pressing his strong fingers into her body. "Fine stroke of luck a pretty cotton tail make me a happy pop."
Stacy rubbed her palm soothingly across the short tufts of gray hair on his head. "I don't know about a pretty cotton tail, but I'll get someone to look in on you. Want me to come home for lunch?"
He was shaking his head slowly as the new porn movie burst to life with fresh moaning and flesh smacking. A muscular black man had a white woman, dressed as a nurse, bent over a white leather couch. He pounded into her with abandon. Stacy briefly wondered if the long shining dick was going into her ass or pussy. "No no no. Don't leave them white folk for me. Happy pop be okay Sunny."
"We ready to grub Grump," Marlin said from the door of the kitchen. He held a pan of scrambled eggs in one hand and a spatula in the other. Sometimes Stacy felt that he was simply biding his time for the way he looked to her with an amused expression.
"Make my grub will ya Sunny," Grump said distractedly, his attention now directed to the plasma screen where a new smacking sound emanated from the same muscular black man slamming into a new woman who'd recently stepped into the house dressed as a DirecTV service provider. She was naked, except for her blue hat pulled low to her eyes as she bent over the wooden dining room table, her long blonde hair crashing forward with each hard thrust. Grump tilted his head at an indirect angle as if there was a spot in his left eye that allowed him to see what was happening.
Stacy left him to his naughty past-time and traipsed into the kitchen where Marlin was busy preparing breakfast. She stopped at the door and leaned against the frame to observe her husband. He'd slipped on a pair of Colts training shorts that hugged his powerful thighs and gripped his tight ass. He moved about the linoleum floor gracefully, his skin tight over flexing and taut muscles. How could she be so lucky? She hate to think that their love could ever end.
"He tell you he lonely?" Marlin asked after sliding a healthy portion of eggs onto a white plate with gold trimming.
Stacy exhaled lightly. "Yeah. I wish I could be here for him myself."
"You gotta trust somebody, babe."
"I know." She was next to him now at the counter next to the stove. "The weekend went by so fast. What time do you have to be at practice?"
"In about an hour."
"I'm really proud of you," she said, rubbing her hand along his arm as she looked to him tenderly.
"Thanks, babe." He held up a plate of bacon and eggs. "You hungry?" She smiled. "Daddy was right. I'll just grab something at the office."
"Suit yourself," Marlin responded as he moved past her. As he stepped into the dining room with a plate of food for her father, her mind grabbed at a comfort that awaited her at the office. More often this comfort was becoming more appealing, wearing against her resolve and conservative upbringing; it represented a sweet rebellion that she was not sure she wanted to exact for fear of what hidden emotions it would unearth.
Chapter Two
The numbers weren't matching up. Expenditures far outweigh income, yet the balance sheets were still showing profit. The smiling faces of the white people around him seemed to be mocking him waiting for him to make a career ending mistake. It was as if everyone was watching and waiting for the nigger to fall face first into the soft mound of camel shit set before him. He felt the pats on the back and heard the compliments, but they didn't match up with the results of his hard work. There was something wrong with the balance sheets. His perky young secretary seemed unaffected by the inconsistencies and pretended naiveté when there was some important accounting record that went missing. It was all he could do to keep from yelling out ..."Percy ... Percy, honey ..." Sherrelle gently nudged her bare thigh against his leg, the soft cotton a barrier to the spontaneous sex she so wanted. He'd interruptedherowndreamsandselfpleasuringwithhisincessantmurmuring about the something not being right with the numbers. She'd ignored him long enough, and then found it was impossible to concentrate.
Percy jerked awake and sat upright in bed, his breathing labored as the smiling faces dispersed from his mind's eye. He looked around wildly before settling his gaze on the curious, deep black eyes of his wife beside him.
"Are you okay?" she asked with a hint of passion in her voice, the memory of her orgasmic vision still fresh between her legs. She could smell the sex seeping from her moist pussy; it glistened on her finger tips as she brushed them against his pajama top.
Percy was untouched by the way her full mocha tinted breasts heaved with her shallow breathing; the way her long dark hair hung to the pillow as she leaned on one elbow didn't move him in any kind of way. Her supple skin, glowing soft and tender in the early morning light didn't force him to reach out and touch her the way it used to do. The numbers weren't adding up and the laughter was growing louder.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Seduction of Ayana Cherry by PETER MACK Copyright © 2010 by Peter Mack Presents, LLC. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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