Join me on my virginal Wylde in Bed podcast
Every Friday night at 9pm CST I will tell you a different erotic story, to help you errmmm relax for bed. I would like to invite you to send in any story suggestions you have to firstname.lastname@example.org .
This week the scenes are from Lacee Hightowers ‘Saving the Grace', a very erotic story, from her synopsis:
Sometimes even the good girl next door needs a dirty secret…
“Be a good girl,” my mother always said. And I did.
Until Reese Gentry looked my way.
Graycee Alexander works as a part-time bartender in a gentleman’s club to help make ends meet while she finishes nursing school. Raised in a religious household, she’s only dated nice men. Religious men. Safe men. Then she meets a mysterious, blue-eyed Canadian.
His eyes hold a beautiful guarantee of wicked unchaste, sin and sex.
His smile flashes shameless bliss and obscene desire.
After one night with the man she only knows as ‘Reese’, she’s confident of one thing. She’ll do anything for her demanding mystery man. With no clingy strings, today and the next, she’ll willingly give him what he wants, when he wants it, wherever he wants it.
But strings are sometimes broken.
Reese Gentry is used to two things. Getting what he wants and repeating. Closing deals and building an empire are his priority. When he walks through the door of Blue Martini in hopes of leaving with a sealed and signed contract in hand, he never plans on walking out a changed man.
Two months of passion with Graycee, he still hasn’t asked her last name, or offered his. Hell, it hadn’t seemed necessary. She didn’t seem to mind. But when he returns and she’s seemingly disappeared into thin air, there’s only one thing to do. Forget her.
But then life has its own ideas.
Two years later, he’s back. My heart beats wildly when his heated eyes meet mine, the charge between us electric, just as it was then. But two years have changed everything. I’m no longer that spirited happy girl from the past. Those days were only the beginning of my story. Those days were before I was left … a slut.
Can second chances flourish when you’re scared?
Can life return to normal when you’re scarred?