Excerpt for Genesis 19 A Glimpse of Sodom: When Erotic Pleasure is Not Worth Looking Back To by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

This page may contain adult content. If you are under age 18, or you arrived by accident, please do not read further.




Genesis 19:

A Glimpse of Sodom

When Erotic Pleasure is Not Worth Looking Back To

JAGUAR VEX



Other than quoted bible verses, this work is not about religion, nor is this a historical account on what happen in the proverbial Paradise. This is a modern romance, an erotic story.

Tommy and Mary are working for a strip club in town, and they want their lives to change. They want to earn and leave the profession of prostitution. A shady business proposition was presented to them, and everything begins to crumble.

Mary becomes hooked with the undertaking to the point of compromising her morals. Can Tommy change her mind before it is too late?

This is a story of whorehouses and attempted salvation, with lots of sex along the way.



























Copyright © 2017 jaguar vex

https://jaguarvex.com

All rights reserved.

ISBN Smashwords: 9781370915675

Thank you for buying an authorized copy of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning or distributing any part of it in any form without permission.

All persons portrayed in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, natural and/or juridical, living or otherwise, or actual events is purely coincidental.

For comments and suggestions, please email

jaguarvex@gmail.com



Chapter ONE

But he insisted so strongly that they did go with him and entered his house. He prepared a meal for them, baking bread without yeast, and they ate. Before they had gone to bed, all the men from every part of the city of Sodom—both young and old—surrounded the house. 



“Thirty minutes” I said.

He is still lying on the bed and there are lots of things to do to prepare from work. But his nakedness is showing me something naughty that he wants to do. He smiles and points at the throbbing muscle, pinkish in contrast with the white bed sheet. He nods at me to come to him. I have reservations because that means I need to all on the trap of his sensual needs.

Not that I complain.

He is now holding the muscle, trying to pull it as far as he can. The pulling seems to be connected on other parts of his body, his hips for instance. There is either an invisible thread connecting the two body parts, or he is just being wicked in his invitation. After puling, he plays with the unruly curls nesting below his shaft. He likes it untrimmed, bushy and primitive.

“Please?” he asks.

“Okay” and I remove the clasp of my bra. I just put it on, with so much difficulty. The problem with new braziers is that sometimes they don’t cling to the parts they are supposed to cling to. “But make sure we will not be late, I have three tardiness for this month already”.

He did not mind my reasoning. His eyes are already on the prize, exposed by my nakedness and ready for his claiming. Sometimes I think that this is his coffee, an act he must do in the morning before his body works well. He seems to be not in his optimum performance without releasing.

I reach the bed where he is fully lying in the whiteness and softness of it, still holding the engorged monster between his legs. It is my turn to take control. We need to balance the needs of the body and the time we are working with, otherwise, our pleasure will be short-lived, dissipating when we reach our workplace.

But there is no sense of urgency on his eyes, already drowning in his desire. When our skins touch, he closes his eyes and begin the ritual, waiting for any stimulus to make him move.

I put his hands to my breasts, that is the stimulus. His fingers begin to move, fondling and massaging the entire lump. Is hands are soft, and his movements are subtle but I can feel his effort to concentrate his efforts through his fingers.

My hands begin to play with his unruly pubes, ever black and thick. He likes it because hit makes him ticklish. This type of ticklishness is not the same as someone playing with the armpit or the side, below the ribcage, it has a certain sensual feel to it, evidenced by his hardness.

He moves my hands to touch him, anticipating my fingers to be holding them in a little while. He is just moving forward with the pace.

Good, at this rate we will be earlier.

When he saw my smile, he thinks I am thinking of many things naughty to do to him. I do not want to spoil his imagination, because it will assist me to edge him earlier.

He is pinching the tip of my breast now, and the surprise makes me move my hips closer to him. His makes him giggle and he repeats his actions. I close my eyes to feel that familiar sensation, the electricity from his fingers coursing through my body. It feels ticklish and I need to gasp for extra breath because of the feeling.

He moves closer to me. My eyes are still closed because I do not want the sensation to fade. I am waiting for his kiss, and I open my lips. He did kiss me alright, but not on the place I thought he would. My nipples are wet with his saliva now, his tongue flickering.

“Oh my” I moaned.

It encourages him, pushing him further because what he is doing is perfect. His free hand that is previously massaging my breast is free now, allowing him to make sure that his hardness endures. I open my eyes and he squeezes his manhood. He knows how the sense of sight bring pleasure.

He suckles hard, his tongue flickers aster. It must be the scent of the soap that I used in the shower. I like the subtle floral scent. He loves it. When he uses is teeth to assist the tongue and lips combo, I arch my back. My body is like reaching for the pleasure but cannot reach for it. Everything is in my head, but pleasure makes the mind think of crazy things.

He releases my other breast. The movement is so fast that in one instant, the fingers are on my nipple to my opening. He is making a massaging movement, tracing the line of my opening and trying to push lightly.

“You are wet” he comments. I nod. That is the only thing I can do at that moment. The delirium is starting, and I want to prolong it if I can.

His comment means that he also releases my other nipple. It is red and wet, with bite marks around the areola.

“You are wet” I whisper. I see the tip of his manhood with a clear liquid, flowing from the head to the shaft. He makes his eyebrows move up and down.

“Suck” he whispers. I obey. My body is moving on its own now, my conscious self is on a corner of my mind, waiting for the waves of pleasure to be washed away. It will take a few minutes before my sanity will be back again, but it is best to experience the best, even if it consists of unexplainable sensation and near hallucinations.

I take him in my warm and waiting mouth, receiving his gasp when the skin touches my wetness. He waits for me to move, his hands trying to reach for my breast again, but I have his strength inside my mouth now. I can make him moan and wriggle with tongue play, which he is anticipating. I cannot give it to him yet. I need to make this moment worth the gamble of being late for work.

His hands are on my hair now, pushing my head to move slowly. He still has control of the tempo and I will take the control in a while. I gradually go deeper, accepting every inch of him. His hardness touches the part of my throat that stimulates a gag reaction, and I choke.

“Is it too big for you, Baby?” he asks.

I did not answer, just continuing the slow movements of ups and downs. I choked again, but my mind is willing to endure taking in a monster.

Finding my angle, I move and try if it will solicit a different reaction. Success. I deepthroat him and he was surprise that I could do it, as if I am making adjustments and showing oral flexibility. For me, it is all about practice and learning as I go.

The next thing is to move faster, and faster. He likes the change in tempo and moans every single head bobbing from me. His fingers are still trying to enter me from below, after he is temporarily paralyzed by the sensation of my sucking. He wants to reciprocate the pleasure, and I am not complaining.

On a final deep dive, he entered my opening, now moistened by the drops of my excitement. It creates a smooth passageway for his finger, now fingers to move in and out. We are exchanging charges, electrifying the entirety of the body but simple thrusting of the hips and fingers.

“Are you ready?” his question is in between moans. If he already gets use to the ticklishness of my mouth, that means we need to change position.

He releases my opening, the skin returning to its folds and hiding beneath the trimmed hair. Tommy positions me to be beneath him, locking my arms with his hands. I shake my head and escape.

I push him to lie down, and his smiles means he knows what I want to do. He lies flat on his back and spread is legs. I stand on the bed and look at his nakedness. Chiselled body and strong arms, chiselled face with pointed nose, proud manhood and hanging balls. His skin is fair, but prominent in the whiteness of the bed. The view I enough to make me moist again.

He is inviting me, his eyes are staring at me, licking his lips in anticipating.

I squat, holding him, feeling is tip on my opening. He moves his hips up and down, faking a thrust, like knocking on the doors of heaven. I allow him, because it is ultimately what we will be doing, but try my best not to give in to his shoving.

Not yet.

I guide the head of his manhood o my opening and sit on it slowly. The wet tip and my moistened line is enough to make a smooth plunge. I claim him, all of him in my deepest pocket and he started to convulse with pleasure. I remain still, and wait until he gains his consciousness again.

It is on that point that I move again. I do muscle control, while I move my hips round, and round, and round. I see his eyes grow bigger, before closing them both to accept all sensation brought about by my helicopter moves.

“Continue, don’t stop” he moans.

His pleas are my moving force, keeps me going, like that bunny commercial. My hips serve their purpose for now and a change in movement is my final event.

I move forward and then backwards, in slow, repetitive movements. There seems to be an imaginary saddle beneath me, and I am riding it well. His cry is getting louder now, and I can feel him getting bigger and harder the moment I started to ride him faster.

“I… am…close” he comments in between panting. His breath is heavier now and I am anticipating his long, submissive cry. I continue riding him--- faster and faster and faster. He is on the edge, and my muscle control is the tipping point. He pulls himself out of me and spills his white, chlorine-scented liquid. It takes more than ten throbs, before the pulsation becomes empty of drops.

“We need to hurry” I tell him. “You still have time for a quick shower while I dress for work”.

He is moving slowly, like he has no intention of going to work. It annoys me.

“What is the matter?” I ask. He is wiping the remains of his squirting earlier.

He stands up finally, throwing the dirty towel in the laundry bag. I must make a mental note not to touch the towel after.

And then, his hand grabs my arm. He pulls me to the bathroom and open the shower.

“No, I already have my shower earlier” I tell him. He hugs me and put me in the cold water.

We make love on the shower again. This time, I am sure that we will be late for work.


Purchase this book or download sample versions for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-7 show above.)