Wydawca: Lot's Cave, Inc. Kategoria: Obyczajowe i romanse Język: angielski Rok wydania: 2017

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Opis ebooka Across The Pond - Lauren Milfinger

DESCRIPTION:A trip to England to visit her uncle and his family during college summer break provided Lauren with a new outlook on family relations. Her fraternal twin cousins, Eve and Andrew, were eager to show her some things in the old carriage house. Her aunt and uncle both wanted to give her a personal welcome. It was going to be an intimate, and very stimulating, experience.EXCERPT:“Did you three have a good day today?” Aunt Imogen asked, after we’d eaten and were sipping at our wine glasses. That was a new experience for me, being able to drink legally. I wouldn’t be able to do that for another two years at home.“Yes,” I said. “You have a lovely place here.”Eve nodded, smiling. “Oh, yes, Mum, it was grand. Lauren is a wonderful quim gobbler.”I was very glad I didn’t have a mouthful of wine at that moment, because it would have been all over the table if I had.Aunt Imogen looked at me thoughtfully. “Are you really, dear? I do hope you’ll demonstrate that talent for me before you go home. Eve is wonderfully talented herself, but one always hopes a new partner will introduce some previously unknown nuance.”“How’d you do with them, son?” Uncle Ralph asked.“Fine. Eve let me bugger her, as usual, and then the both of them sucked me and Lauren took my whole load and swallowed all of it. Bit of all right, that was.”I said something at that point. I’m not sure what. It probably wasn’t coherent. The whole situation was just weird. I was worried about how to keep this from Uncle Ralph and Aunt Imogen, and here were the twins telling them everything, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.“Not like Georgia, is it, Lauren?” Uncle Ralph commented.“They’re just, uh, kidding you, you know?”Aunt Imogen’s laugh went a long way toward taking the edge off the situation. “Oh, don’t be silly, dear,” she said, still chuckling. “We have a very open household when it comes to sex.”“Yes,” Uncle Ralph said. “We had to be a little circumspect when these two were younger, but once they turned eighteen, well, we just let them know that whatever they wanted to do would be just fine with us.”“We already had our suspicions, but they assured us they waited until the day after their eighteenth birthday before they actually did anything.”

Opinie o ebooku Across The Pond - Lauren Milfinger

Fragment ebooka Across The Pond - Lauren Milfinger

by Lauren Milfinger

Published by Lot’s Cave

Across The Pond, © 2017, by Lauren Milfinger

All Rights Reserved

Cover by Morgaine Wrightman

All Characters In This Book Are Age 18 Or Older

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Lot’s Cave website and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Lot’s Cave Novel

www.LotsCave.com

CONTENTS

Across The Pond

~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note

Family Exotica

Taboo Erotica

Other Novels

by Lauren Milfinger

After my first year of college, I spent the summer in England, staying with my father’s younger brother and his family. Uncle Ralph was the easiest to talk to at first, because he was the only one who sounded familiar. Aunt Imogen was a Scot, and until you got used to it her accent was nearly impenetrable. Their two kids, Andrew and Eve, fraternal twins who, like me, were then nineteen, spoke with what I later discovered was an “estuary” accent. Not the formal, BBC British accent you used to hear in movies, but more like what a lot of characters use on British television these days. It still sounded a little odd to me, after growing up near Atlanta, but was certainly easier to comprehend than Aunt Imogen’s Hibernian patois.

Uncle Ralph came to England for his final year of college, met Aunt Imogen at Cambridge, and decided to stay. He was always the “smart” one on Dad’s side of the family. By his mid-20s he’d earned a doctorate in physics. He’s invented some things I don’t understand, but other people do, and they evidently cost very little to make and a lot to buy, so he’s the rich guy in the family. Mom and Dad are comfortable, but I only got into Brown because our church gave me a full scholarship after my friend Rhonda managed to get a beautifully incriminating picture of Reverend Killjoy with his cock in my mouth.

Rhonda’s a great photographer. Killjoy’s expression was perfect. A lovely combination of, “Wow, I’m getting a blow job from a hot 18-year-old,” and “Oh, fuck, my wife’s going to cut my dick off if she ever sees this!” I was all for letting her, to be honest, but a full ride at an Ivy League college was worth sucking a preacher’s dick. Particularly, if the preacher was interrupted long before he was finished. I like the taste of jizz, but I prefer to pick my own sources.

I still saw Killjoy in church after that, obviously, but that was the only time I ever saw his cock. He always looked slightly nervous when my family reached him to shake hands at the end of the service. I never understood his need to con high-school seniors with his “special anointing” and “tower of divine blessing” bullshit. The old fuck did have a nine-inch prick. You’d think he’d just cut a swath through the Ladies’ Bible Study Convocation and leave the teenagers alone.

Uncle Ralph and his family lived in a big Victorian house in Purfleet. Being the reader that I am, and seeing the big house sitting on its huge, wooded estate, surrounded by a tall brick wall, with an ancient, and much added to, stone refectory cum mansion next door, my immediate thought was that I would be spending the summer in Doctor Seward’s asylum. My cousin Eve later told me this might even be true, and that the two estates supposedly had been Bram Stoker’s inspiration for Dracula’s “Carfax Abbey” and Seward’s home.

Once I was settled into my room, the twins offered to show me around the estate. The place was huge. The house, built in 1853, mostly of yellow brick, had 28 rooms, including eight bedrooms. That number went up to thirteen if you included the five servant rooms in the attic, two of which were still occupied by Harris, Uncle Ralph’s valet/butler/chauffer, and Mrs. Fitch, the housekeeper. A local company came in as often as necessary to take care of the grounds, but these two were the only permanent staff. Between them, they kept the place in good shape.

Harris was ex-Grenadier Guards, and his bearing and no-nonsense efficiency were hard to miss. Mrs. Fitch was a fat, cheerful old soul who always turned out to be a lot more organized than she seemed on the surface. Before going into semi-retirement as Uncle Ralph’s housekeeper, she’d been surgical matron at a London hospital.

After a lot of walking around the grounds, which were wooded and park-like, comprising some eleven acres, we ended up in the old carriage house. The stalls were cleaned out and empty. There hadn’t been any horses in decades. The old carriages were still there, an old dog cart, a neat little Victoria, and a black Berlin. I suppose they were in good condition, other than a light coat of dust.