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Love Anthem
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ISBN-10: 1-55404-749-8
Genre: Romance
eBook Length: 144 Pages
Published: April 2010

From inside the flap

Beautiful Megan Dunning, gorgeous black sheep of a middle class family, is a professional paramour without a job. Megan is supremely well able to fill any partner with glorious satisfaction. While having a drink in a private club, she meets John Winekot III. John is her deceased husband’s friend. Instantly, mutual seduction begins for this unattached pair of unusual misfits. Megan has never met John Winekot before, but John has been in love with Megan since he first saw her at a birthday party three years ago. They dine together and spend a night locked in lust. By dawn, Megan has again been hired as a paramour for a wealthy man, only this time the end result will be entirely different.

Amy Currie’s marriage is in serious trouble, so she calls Megan Dunning, her former college roommate, and asks for help. Being wonderfully intuitive, Megan quickly establishes that Amy’s husband has crossed the line into a homosexual affair. Divorce quickly follows.

After months of living alone, Amy discovers Matt Slade working on the apartment next door. Dinner and a hot tub escapade quickly turn a casual meeting into an ember-hot relationship.

Both women are used to attaining the ultimate satisfaction in bed. Each conquers her man in the same manner, with guile and attention to detail. Nothing about the profile of either of these women proves unendurably bland. Both are well able to melt the hardest of bachelor hearts.

Will these two luscious, highly sexed female friends find the permanent, ultra-satisfying relationships they seek?

Love Anthem (Excerpt)

Chapter One

Megan Dunning is wearing a provocative sequined mini-dress when she slides up onto a barstool in the exclusive Green Gables Executive Club bar. Her deceased husband had been a member, so now she is a member by inheritance. The club is unique by virtue of its sophisticated membership and its incredible service. Prospective members must be rich to be eligible for membership. Additionally, they must be nominated by another member and then voted in by a membership committee.

Outside the club, in the parking lot, a man dressed in full knightly armor, riding a black charger and carrying a lance, indicates with his weapon where each vehicle is to park. Membership stickers displayed on the top center of every windshield bears a parking spot number. All guests must park toward the rear of the lot and are then delivered to the front door by electric cart. Inside the building, people with old money and discriminating taste lounge in plush surroundings while they await their call to dinner.

Megan Dunning is a magnificent-looking, blonde-haired, oval-faced woman with a sparkling personality and a figure to die for. Additionally, she is enough of a temptress to draw the eye of every man and some of the women in the room. Each person who stares would love to be her eager sexual accomplice.

Megan sips a margarita while studying reflections in the bar mirror. She remains deep in thought while she considers her future. Doug had been her husband for just over four years, and now he's dead. Being hired to live with a man is one thing, but being married to one is an entirely different matter. She wants marriage desperately, instead of another paramour relationship. She wants marriage with every fiber of her being. Doug had died in the crash of his stunt plane.

Megan had been a fresh pretty face for him to deal with as he desired. Doug had elected to deal with her about twice a day on a wide variety of horizontal and vertical surfaces. He had married her after she spent an unusually short stint as his consort.

Megan had earned her living since college by performing as the highly paid exclusive paramour of several different wealthy men. During that time, she had served three different benefactors. Each had lasted about two years before they had been worn down by her incredible sexual appetite. Being sexually used to the point of near exhaustion had been what they all initially wanted. When they were no longer capable of performing, they understood her need for another man. She wanted what a younger man could offer her. Now that she is older, she has become a cougar who preys on younger men.

Megan's requirements were cunnilingus and a vigorous hard cock to keep her fully sated. When the benefactor's sex drive was no longer available to her, she would announce her decision to leave. When she gave notice of her decision to terminate the relationship, there had been begging by all the benefactors. To a man, they wanted her to stay, even though they could no longer meet her sexual demands. Megan wanted to be satisfied sexually at least twice a day. When she went down on her man and he failed to respond, she would prepare herself to depart.

It was sad that only men of wealth could sustain her profession. The fact that they were wealthy also usually meant that they were much older than she. At thirty-one, she considers that she's becoming a bit long of tooth to continue in her chosen profession. What she needs now and wants desperately is another marriage, but to a much younger man - one capable of satisfying her sexually.

She had been thrilled to accept Doug's proposal. He had been young and vital, and loved sex as much as she did. She had elected to marry him so that she could become something more than a highly paid private call girl.

When they married, there had been a prenuptial agreement to protect her wealth from her new husband. During her first six years in the trade, she had accumulated a surprising amount of wealth from her three patrons.

While she sits studying the salted rim of her margarita glass she considers that time is running out for her in this profession. As she grows older, sugar daddies will become harder to find, because rich men want young women in their beds.

The terms of her usual performance contract dictates that she receives a massive amount of money every year as a salary. Her stipulations are that if she and her patron should separate for any reason, then she will be awarded designated property, and most of the toys the man possesses. In Doug's case there had been no members of his immediate family to squabble with over his estate. There had been nobody to contest the terms of his will, so she had inherited not only money in overseas accounts and insurance settlements, but also large amounts of land. One section of land contains a large, highly successful pistachio farm in New Mexico, while another tract in Arizona features a huge pecan orchard.

Being the full-time mistress of a wealthy man means never having a headache. It also means maintaining a certain domesticity whenever he is around. Her live-in status requires that she be available and seductive 24/7. She must now begin anew to search for the next patron to care for her. The idea that she will shortly have to pass another sexual efficiency exam with a new lover - one searching for multifaceted excellence - provides a mischievous, delicious feeling. Sex with a vital new lover is always a thrilling event. She smiles to herself with wanton mirth.

Being bisexual, she wonders fleetingly what switching to an alternative life style would offer. Perhaps what she needs this next time is a woman to care for her. There are plenty of beautiful wealthy women out there who no longer trust men enough to have a close association with any of them. Taking a female lover would be something to consider if she should run across a silky smooth, slender sex machine who'd love to have her pussy frequently eaten.

Megan has not had a pussy to titillate since her college roommate graduated and moved away. They had mostly ignored men during their time in school. They had concentrated almost entirely on each other when they weren't studying. When either of them was horny, they would merely crawl into bed together and offer up gushes of gratitude for what they experienced. They enjoyed bondage and also a strap-on penile replica when they wanted penetration. Suffering slow intercourse by a large ambitious dildo provided an incredible surge of feeling.

Doug had been dead for only two weeks, and already she was lonely beyond description. Her battery-operated boyfriend furnished her some of what she wanted, but it lacked personality. What she craves is a rich new bedroom experience. Megan wants what married women rarely experience: total fulfillment twice a day. The next time she assumes a consort position, she wants attitude and frequency from her new lover.

While she considers her future, a new beginning forms in the reflection of the mirror. From across the room a tall, dark stranger approaches and stands beside her. The stranger wears a black Italian silk three-piece suit, with a blaze-red necktie. His feet are shod in expensive-looking black shoes that gleam in the muted light of the bar.

"Aren't you Doug Henning's friend?" the man asks.

"Yes," Megan hisses, "I was Doug's friend until he wrapped himself up in his Pitt Special off the end of a runway at some obscure airdrome out west. I'll miss him every minute, of every day for the rest of my life. Who might you be?"

"I'm John Winekot, a longtime friend of Doug's," the stranger offers. "I was in Europe when I heard he'd pranged his stunt plane and didn't survive. He was already buried by the time I learned he was gone. Otherwise, I would have been here."

"You didn't miss much," Megan offers. "There was myself and four or five other people who mostly ignored me. I forgive you for not attending."

"I hate eating alone," John advises her.

"If that's an invitation," Megan responds, "then I accept."

John turns and motions to the maître d'hôtel. The man acknowledges the signal with a curt nod.

"I believe our reservation time has arrived, so we can go now," John comments as he holds Megan's elbow to assist her down from her seat. John glimpses the flash of a garter belt snap at her hemline. The sight is invigorating for the unattached, longtime bachelor. The woman projects that hot, juicy, virginal look he craves. A man less experienced would be awestruck by the beauty of Megan Dunning, but John is too worldly to be awestruck by any woman. Instead, he achieves a massive erection that nearly impairs his ability to walk.

Together they follow the maître d' into the dining area and from there into a small private room in a far corner of the establishment. Inside the room, a muted ceiling chandelier shines down on a comfortably sized round table set for two. Megan has never been in a private room in this place before. The maître d' holds Megan's chair for her while she sits. John Winekot seats himself near her left elbow.

In a short while, two uniformed food servers arrive. John orders a Rosé wine without referring to the wine list. The wine is served so quickly that Megan realizes that it must have been preordered, already opened, and chilled in the kitchen. The squat bottle arrives in an iced bucket. Apparently the wine is a vintage he frequently orders, because there is no opening or cork ritual to contend with.

"I hope you don't mind," John comments. "Unlike most people, I prefer my wine chilled."

Megan flashes a brilliant smile as she answers, "How strange that you should know that I also prefer my wine iced."

"That knowledge comes from long hours of research by a special-detail person," John offers as a minor comment to his beautiful dinner guest.

The wine is poured into tall tulip glasses to stand sparkling in the dim light. While Megan samples the offering, she studies her dinner companion. She finds both the wine and her dinner date to be delectable. While she sips the wine, she mentally undresses the tall stranger.

He's about the same age that Doug had been, but more muscular. This one comes with a fresh haircut and manicured fingernails. There's no belly hanging out over his belt. He looks as hard as an ax handle. He looks as if he's a man who works at staying in shape. His rugged face bears just enough tan to indicate that he spends time out of doors. She decides he's probably a product of one of the marital arts, handball, or of being a runner.

"First I want you to know how stunning I think you are and what a complete privilege it is to have you seated at my table," John offers. "Having you here is something I've often dreamed of."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Winekot," Megan responds in return.

John announces in a low, clear, confident voice, "Besides your company, I hope I have something else special to look forward to tonight, and I don't mean the food or the wonderful wine from Portugal."

He only glances at the menu before offering, "Please allow me to order dinner for us both."

"If your selection of a main course is anything like the wine," Megan exclaims, "then by all means, order for me."

"I hope you enjoy chateaubriand," John responds casually. "I have a standing order for that particular cut of Kobe beef every time I come here for dinner. When I've grown tired of the best beef in the world, I enjoy stone crab, or rarely, lobster. I eat so little food that I admit to being a spoiled snob when it comes to dining, especially when I'm in the company of a beautiful woman."

"Thank you again, kind sir, for another unexpected compliment," Megan offers. "You seemed to know in advance that I would be your dinner guest tonight. I'd like to hear how you knew about that before we go any further."

"You presume correctly, my lovely," John admits.

"I don't understand," Megan offers. "Exactly how did you know I would be here with you tonight, when I didn't even know I'd be here myself?"

"I've made it a point to know everything about you, lovely Megan," John answers. "When I learned of your presence with Doug, I began stalking you."

"Why, you evil man," Megan responds with a smile. "It's been a long time since I've been stalked by a man in a two-thousand-dollar-suit. What do you have in mind, now that you finally have me cornered?"

"My intentions are exclusive and much more to the point," John answers, "I desire a committed relationship with you. If you are open to the idea, then I'd enjoy keeping you in the style to which you've become accustomed."

"Should I be flattered?" Megan responds. "I'm more than eager to know about what you have planned for us. Should I imagine a powerful scene involving sexual settings, or will our relationship be purely platonic?"

"Forget platonic," John, asserts. "What I have in mind involves great gobbling quantities of carnal cravings. I've made a dedicated study of your life since not long after you moved in with Doug. For instance, I know you are an S and M devotee. Spankings are a frequent order of the day for you. I find that terribly sensual, since I enjoy bondage and sexual torment. If we find we are desirable to each other, then you can expect to enjoy sex while being controlled by various restraints. I favor handcuffs or Velcro wrist restraints, myself. I will occasionally want you tied spread-eagled on a bed so that you are at my complete mercy. If you are orgasmic, and I happen to know that you are, then I will use you in every sexual manner I know.

"You seem to prefer administering fellatio. I am a devoted fan of any woman who enjoys going down. That particular form of oral endeavor happens to be an enormous favorite of mine. I enjoy fellatio so much that I've searched the world for a woman worthy of my attention. During that search, I discovered you."

Megan watches the lips move on her dinner date as he speaks. She can't tear her eyes away from them, now that she knows what he knows about her. While she watches his face, she feels the deep inward sting of sexual desire. The sting manifests itself as a shiver of anticipation following such spoken directness. There is nothing shy about this man. He knows exactly what he wants and is someone she would pick out of a crowd. He's not young and foolish; he's mature, handsome, and handles himself with confidence.

"What you have done, you naughty man," Megan murmurs, "is to make me wish this delectable meal was over so I could discover in seclusion what drives you, Mr. Winekot."

"You will discover what drives me soon enough, my dear," Winekot responds in a hoarse whisper. "For now, you need to concentrate on feeding yourself, so you will have the necessary stamina later."

Megan feels goose-bumps crawl up both her legs when she hears his threat. It's as though she can feel his lips caress the swollen nub of flesh between her legs. It's the same sensation she had when she handled her boyfriend's cock for the first time, all those years ago. One touch and she had been hooked for life. In the middle of her reliving her memory, the first course of the incredible meal arrives.

The first item is a magnificent shrimp cocktail. She devours one shrimp using small, tentative bites. Megan eats only the single shrimp while watching her date consume the entire delicacy with measured determination. When he has finished his allotment of shellfish, the fabulous center cut of tenderloin beef arrives. The loin comes sliced in segments, laced with seasonings, and arranged in an arc on a sizzling platter. Within the arc are baby carrots. On another segmented ceramic serving dish are baked sweet potatoes sliced open and holding scoops of melting butter.

Half-cooked sugar-snap peas rest in the other segment of the platter. The meat is perfectly cooked; rare in the center and blackened on the outside. The large tenderloin could not have been prepared more perfectly.

Megan looks at the meal and then at John Winekot. Both items make her mouth water, especially the excessive boldness of the man. Her woman's wound feels similar to the sweet potatoes: hot to the touch and bathed in warm melted butter. She realizes that she has already mentally accepted her fate at the hands of a newfound companion. He has the necessary wealth; otherwise, he wouldn't be here. He wears the confidence and bearing of a man who is selective about whom he beds, but when he chooses, he probably gets more ass than a toilet seat. Megan shivers again when she considers that in about an hour she plans to be naked and alone with him.

A small loaf of French bread arrives in a heated bread server. Megan is impressed with every aspect of the meal, the man, and the service. The private room is attended by two young men dressed in dark green gabardine waist jackets, and with black trousers sporting a matching wide green strip down the out seam of each leg. Their jackets have gold epaulets and with a military design embroidered in gold at each arm cuff.

The meat is served a slice at a time, with vegetables as indicted by the diner. Megan takes a slice of meat, three baby carrots, and four pea shells for her portion.

As he begins to eat, John asks, "I know that you don't have to work, but have you found gainful employment in your chosen profession since Doug's demise, my dear?" As he speaks, his keen knife slices through the delectable cut of meat.

"No, I haven't," Megan answers, as she too slices into the delicacy. "Why do you ask?"

"Because, my dear," John murmurs, "if you are available, then I desire to procure your professional services for myself." John Winekot speaks as casually as though he is seeking directions to a local address.

"Are you certain you can afford me?" Megan asks as she inspects her dining companion with renewed interest. "I'm an ultra-high maintenance woman with an enormous personal services price tag, Mr. Winekot, but then you probably already knew that."

"And your current price tag this evening would be exactly what?" he asks.

"For starters," Megan offers, "a bright yellow Porsche Carrera GT. That particular vehicle sells for just over $620,000 a copy. In addition, I desire unlimited credit card use without complaint, plus an annual wage of a million dollars a year paid in advance. I want a written agreement, which I will provide with stipulations of my choosing. In exchange for those requirements, you will have unrestricted access to the most extraordinary sex you've ever had."