Novels by Maureen E

I really can’t get over how much I enjoy giving this blowjob. It’s an entirely new experience for me, to be so into it. I mean, sure, I know how to fake like it’s the most delicious and wonderful thing because I know that guys love that kind of enthusiasm.All of my enthusiasm right now is absolutely sincere, though, and it’s such a strange thing to think about this blowjob as its own reward, like if all that happens is this blowjob, I’ll be completely happy about it. It’s strange. I mean, I guess I understand that oral sex is inherently intimate but this is like an entirely different world.And then things change.I think I’m so lost in moving my mouth up and down on Jackson’s cock that I’m really not paying any attention to anything other than my lips, my tongue, and his dick. I almost don’t understand that Jackson is moving me until I’m already on the bed. I finally take my mouth off and turn to look at him but my body swings around.I’m over him.And his tongue gets to my pussy.T

Yeah, yeah. I know you want to get to the part where I have sex with Jackson but it’s important that I go through things how they happen. I’ll be quick, though. See, that spanking is a really significant thing because it changes everything for me. I mean, sure, some of that has to do with the simple fact that I now understand there are consequences but that’s not the sum total. I mean, I also can just stop at any time.But suddenly, I want to succeed. I mean, not just the way I always want to succeed. I want to succeed because I want to be a better person. All through high school, everything is easy for me. Nothing really challenges me until my junior year in college and even then, I can manage that easily until I turn twenty-one and decide I enjoy partying more than studying. So, until I’m twenty-one, I don’t really have to work hard to succeed.But now, I’m learning how good it feels to work hard.I know you want me to cut to the chase. I know. Be a little patient, for fuck’s sake!

What the hell am I supposed to expect from a spanking?I can honestly say I never receive one, not one. Oh, maybe as a child I get a swat on my ass when Mom says, “I said it’s bedtime,” but never more than one swat at a time. I mean, even then, they’re not really spanks so much as a vague threat that there can be spanks. I mean, they don’t even hurt.It takes one spank from Jackson to make me realize this is not going to be easy.His hand impacts with my ass cheeks and I gasp from the intensity of the pain that washes over me. It’s really unbelievable. I mean that literally. It takes a moment for me to process it as something that’s really happening. It’s like the pain from the spanking reverberates over my ass cheeks and then all along my thighs and my waist.It’s just the first spank and it already hurts like hell!It’s like my mind stops.And then the second spank hits and the sting of the first spank feels far less powerful than the second. I don’t know if it’s just that his hand

I get my first spanking a week later.Yeah, Daddy doesn’t mess around.Don’t get me wrong, I earn it. Also, it’s very clear that if I mess up, he gets to punish me, and that includes spanking. We go over everything when I get back from college. There are basically three prongs to the law my stepfather lays down.School.Home.Work.All three of them are part of the help he gives and it’s his way or the highway. Since I’m retaking courses already failed, he knows the syllabi and the materials. By the time the semester starts, I’m supposed to be ahead. He has a study schedule for me as well as a homework assignment and project schedule. In terms of home, I have chores that he just never enforces before. Finally, I am required to get a part-time job. It turns out my scholarship isn’t lost yet. I need three semesters on academic probation for that to happen and this new one upcoming is the third so my tuition and books are still covered.But he wants me to learn responsibility.In fact, h

My stepfather finds me crying on the couch five and a half months before he fucks me.I say that because I want to make it clear that he never takes advantage of me. I guess I also need to point out that I’m not a child. I’m twenty-two years old and he’s not doing anything gross or illegal. I think maybe I need to also point out that he’s not really my stepfather. I mean, he’s more my mother’s husband than my stepfather. They marry when I’m sixteen and the only authority he ever takes with me is when he teaches me to drive and tells me what to do or not to do in reference to that.So, the man I fuck has no real father-like relationship with me and I’m not his daughter. I’m his wife’s daughter.Now, let’s get to the wife part. He fucks me during a trial separation. That comes about because my mother gets a chance to work for her company at their Australia location for a year. He doesn’t want her to go. She wants him to go with her. Of course, if he does that, he’ll have to quit his job

The next day I sat in the confessional waiting for him wearing a short skirt with no panties. I brought the lube like he’d asked. The anticipation of what he planned to do to me had me rubbing my thighs together. Again, for the fourth day in a row I was wet. I couldn’t help myself. Father Michaels had done things to me no man had ever done. Touched me in ways no other man had ever touched me. And commanded me in ways no other man commanded me. I liked it. I wanted it. I needed it.He arrived a few minutes early. Parishioners would start arriving at two and it was one forty-five. He pulled his cock out immediately, letting me suck him. As I massaged his ball sack and had his cock deep in my throat the first parishioner came in for confession. I heard the door on the other side of the booth open and close and then the man’s voice. A rush of excitement ran through me and I savored each suck, lick, and caress, knowing Father Michaels would have to use real finesse to hear confession while

The doctor seemed to catch onto a specific detail in my explanation, tilting his head slightly as he prodded further. "And when did this encounter take place, Ma'am?""About a month and a half ago," I answered softly."Have you experienced any other physical changes or unusual symptoms recently?""Well, yes," I recounted, listing the subtle shifts I had been trying so hard to ignore. "I’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish. I’m far more exhausted than I usually am, and I get dizzy at times when I stand up too fast. Plus, my period is late by over a week. That’s never happened to me before, even when work is completely insane.""I see..." The doctor cleared his throat, setting the folder down squarely on his desk. "Mrs. Woods, you need to run another test."I frowned, a fresh wave of panic creeping into my chest. "Is... is there something wrong with my lab work, Doctor? You just said everything was negative. Why do I need to get tested again?""Not for sexually transmitted diseases," he

A month and a half had blurred by since the day I walked out of that apartment, and my life had settled into an exhausting, mechanical routine.While I threw myself relentlessly into my work, Ryan remained busy being his usual useless, parasitic self. The only real change was the complete wall I had built between us. I had blocked his number weeks ago because the arrogant bastard refused to stop blowing up my phone. Every text was the same infuriating script—calling me a "tantrum-throwing bitch," telling me I was being "unreasonable and childish," and demanding I return home immediately to resume my duties as his provider.Returning from another grueling twelve-hour shift at the publishing house, I collapsed onto my bed, completely drained.A profound, bone-deep exhaustion had settled over me lately. At first, I blamed it on the stress of the impending CEO transition and the mountain of manuscripts on my desk, but the physical drag was getting ridiculous. I wasn't even working longer

I took a deep, shaky breath the moment the apartment door slammed shut behind me. Leaning my head back against the cold wall of the hallway, I tried to process the tempest of emotions raging inside my chest.I was furious with myself. Absolutely furious. Because despite everything that had happened—despite his grotesque betrayal and his cruel, callous words—I had to admit to a terrifying truth: a part of me was still in love with Ryan. Aside from my mother's frail heart, which kept me from sharing bad news, it was my love for Ryan that had kept me tethered to him for so long, enduring his deadbeat behavior.He had been my first in everything. My first love, my first kiss, and the first and only man I had ever given my body to—at least, until last night. Once upon a time, he had been the ideal man in my eyes, the person I dreamed of building a life with.I had foolishly hoped that a single night of wild passion with a stranger would erase him completely. But years of history—all those

I dragged my heavy suitcase out of the master bedroom, but my exit was immediately cut off. Ryan was standing in the doorway, his feet planted wide, physically blocking me from leaving."Move," I said, my voice cold and hard.Ryan’s lips thinned into a tight, arrogant line. In his mind, he still genuinely believed I was just having an emotional breakdown. He thought he could browbeat me into submission like he usually did."Are you seriously throwing a whole scene over something this simple?" Ryan scolded, shaking his head. "It's pathetic, Christy. You're leaving me because I slept with Rose once? And don't even start with that ridiculous divorce threat. We both know you won't actually go through with it.""Don't test me, Ryan," I warned. "You talk as if divorcing you is some massive hurdle. You bring absolutely nothing to this marriage. You're not a breadwinner, you're not a supportive partner, and you aren't even faithful. I have a thousand reasons to leave you, but the only reason

I froze, my hand clutching a silk blouse as a sharp, cold ache pierced my chest. It wasn’t because I still loved Ryan. No, the agony came from his sheer, casual indifference. He spoke about his betrayal as if it were a minor, everyday inconvenience—a simple household issue we needed to resolve, rather than the complete destruction of our life together.What made the bile rise in my throat was the smug, magnanimous way he threw out that peace offering: You're still my official wife. As if I should be on my knees, thanking him for the crumbs of his pathetic loyalty.I kept my back turned. I refused to let him see the raw, bleeding cracks in my armor. Silently, mechanically, I kept folding my clothes and packing my shoes, treating his voice like background noise in an empty room.Ryan clicked his tongue, his patience clearly snapping at my silence. "Why are you throwing a tantrum like this, Christy? You know as well as I do that I'm not sleeping with Rose because I want to. I'm doing thi

If not that, I found out about Ryan’s affair with my best friend, I would have still been in the dark. The admission tore from my throat, raw and trembling, echoing off the cold bathroom tiles. For years, I had quietly carried the suffocating weight of my supposed inadequacy, but standing there, the dam finally broke. Hot, bitter tears spilled over my lashes. I violently slapped them away, staring at my wet hands.No. I am done shedding tears for a man who isn't worth the salt in them. I refuse to let him humiliate me any further.I stepped out of the tub, wrapping a plush towel tightly around my chest, and stood before the vanity. Wiping a fistful of steam off the glass, I forced myself to actually look at the woman staring back.I had spent my entire life believing my body was nothing special—just an ordinary frame. Yet last night, a man who looked like he belonged on a billboard had treated this exact body like a prize. My eyes traced the curve of my full breasts, the dip of my wa