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Internet Proposition

Making Ends Meet

By Jane Emery

Copyright 2016 Jane Emery

Distributed by Smashwords

Selling Panties

"Why the fuck do I keep doing this?" she asks herself every time she takes a seat. Her name is Martina but everyone calls her Marty. She sits in a coffee shop waiting for one of her clients to show up. It's one of her newer guys this time and she's a little nervous.

"Can I top you off Marty?" says the barista as she notices Marty staring off into the distance with an empty cup in her hand. They have come to know her here; she's become a regular at the shop her friend works at, and now they all look out for her.

"Yeah, please."

Marty starts to reflect back to a year ago, sitting at this same table with Tina while she was on break. That was when she heard about selling her panties to buyers.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Marty flinched at the thought.

"Look I had to do it when I was waiting to get this job," Tina told her, "When money is tight you at least know you can make ninety-eight bucks off a pair of two dollar undies."

That much of a profit would help Marty and her family through these tough financial times. Things have been going down for the soup plant her husband works at. There have been mass layoffs and pay cuts going on for months. Tom, her husband even had to switch to the graveyard shift just to keep his pay rate. Selling a two dollar pair of panties could help them out immensely.

"You just post a nice picture of yourself on Graigslist and you'd be surprised at how many responses you'll get." Tina knows her friend Marty is a fox, back in school she was always sought after and had her pick of the guys. With her looks and sexy body, she should have them messaging her all the time. "If you want to make more on them you just play with yourself a little and get them smelling like sex, you can add on another hundred bucks."

A thought pops into Marty's head; she and her husband haven't been having the best sex life lately, not since the hard times began. She looks back at how she has been playing with herself anyway, missing the erotic touch of her husband. "This could really help my family out," she sounds like she's coming around to the idea.

"Let me put your mind at ease," Tina said to her, "ninety-five percent of your customers are going to be either old men wanting something from a younger woman or comic book and video game nerds who will never get a girl. But a pair of a gorgeous woman's cum soaked undies is enough for them to jerk it to for a while, until they're ready for a new pair."

"Really, no weirdoes?"

"That would be the other five percent," Tina told her, "and they end up being the middle age men with a child molester mustache. Such a creepy look, they try to look like a twenty something but actually resemble a pedophile."

"What about sex?"

"Well of course they'll want sex; why else do they want your skivvies? But none of them are ever brave enough to talk to a woman so they won't ask you when you come to make the delivery." Marty looks at her friend's face reflect on a thought of joy.

"What is it?"

"Okay so there was this one time, such a hunk. I couldn't believe he was asking to buy my underwear. Then again, it takes all kinds."

"What? You did it? You never told me that. How much did he give you for it?"

"A thousand bucks, but I would've done it for free, he was that fucken hot."

"I won't lie; Danny hasn't given me a good riding since all this shit started at work." She longs for the touch of a man and his stiff pleasure tool inside of her. She wants it from her husband but will take it from someone else right now. She needs to feel wanted, and not by some role playing gamer who has a crush on his avatar. "Maybe if I start to help relieve some of the money troubles, Danny will put his tongue on me again. I'm all in."

Selling her panties has helped her family out, but not enough. Her husband is still on the late shifts, has even been cut back on hours; and her son had to stop his guitar lesions. She knows she has to kick her activity up a notch. There's too many comic book shirt wearing fat boys with bad skin just wanting panties that are worn. Maybe once a month she'll get a two hundred dollar order for some soaked in her sweet juices, but she needs more of those sales.

The man she is seeing today is one of them, someone she's sold a pair to once before. They met in this same café and at this same table. She wears them to the meeting and when the client arrives she walks off to the bathroom so she can take them off and hand them over for the cash. When they last met, he told her of his marriage and how his wife is a complete prude, but for the sake of his family he can't leave her. This is a way for him to stay faithful but explore his naughty side.

The thought of his loyalty is endearing, complemented by his tall, thin frame and face chiseled by Di Vinci; his wife has no clue what she's missing out on. Marty is nervous because when she touched herself earlier to fill his order, she secretly thought of him. How his soft skin would rub against hers, the sensation she would feel upon him entering her. She has a bit of a lustful crush on him and wants him to become a regular. What will the conversation be like when he gets there? She even dressed sexier than she has for clients in the past; she really wants to make an impression.

He walks through the front door and she sees him, a flitter of ecstasy shoots to her womanhood and she adds a little extra to the already wet lace panties. A grin comes over her as he makes eye contact, he can see the blouse she's wearing gives her amazing cleavage and his face lights up like a kid in a candy store. He takes the seat across from her, putting his coat into the empty one next to them.

"Wow, you look amazing," he says with an exhale.

"You look like a tasty slice yourself, let me get you something." She stands right up to hand him a cup of java, her plan is for him to see her sweet ass curved even more by the tightness of her mini skirt, the brim of her stockings peeking out just enough to let his eye lock on and stare. "So how have things been since the last time I saw you?"

"Uh, well," he is still mesmerized by the sexy vision he just saw, "things are alright, yet still the same."

She can see her plan worked, he is still stuck with the image of her round rump wrapped in chiffon. She has him right where she wants him. "Well I guess it’s good that things haven't gotten worse."

"You can say that again," he takes a sip from his coffee, "um, I uh,"

Marty knows he has something to say but he's nervous, the tables have turned and she's elated. The perfect specimen of a man is tongue-tied and she's the one that tied it. "You can say what you need to, I won't judge you." She gazes into his icy blue eyes.

"Looking at you now, I want something more. What I see of you can't be appreciated with just mere undergarments."

"Do you not want them," she goes straight to a lost sale, money she could use more than she cares to admit.

"Yes I do, but I want you more right now."

That was a bit of a shock. She was hoping he would become a steady customer willing to drop two hundred bucks a month on her sexy form, can this be something more? Her heart skips a beat. She knows that he'll never leave his wife; he made that very clear the first time they met. What could he be proposing?

"I don't normally do this but I've been thinking of nothing but you and your intoxicating smell," he drops his head, "If I give you more money, can I make love to you?" He covers his face in shame.

"You don't have to hide from me; I said I wouldn't judge you." She reaches across the table and pulls one of his hands down from his embarrassed face, "I can use the money so I say we do it." She remembers the story Tina told her how she was propositioned by an incredible stud and she had the night of her life, with Marty looking for the tender touch of a man this could be the same for her.


"Shit, you're one hell of a man. And might I add, married or not, I'd have to be an idiot to pass this opportunity up." She takes a quick drink from her mug, "So you should go first and get a room in the motel around the corner and I'll leave a few minutes after and meet you there. There are some people here that know I have a family, they may get loose lips so we shouldn't leave together." She sits and finishes her coffee like she normally would, then stands up and exits the cafe.

As she's walking up to the motel, she can see him heading to a room on the second floor so she goes straight to it. When she arrives, he has the door open, waiting for her like a gentleman. Marty can see a stack of cash sitting on the dresser for her so she picks it up and sticks it in her pocketbook. She places her purse and coat on the table and pulls her tight skirt up exposing her panties that she'd already saturated for him. She grabs them with the tips of her fingers and slowly pulls them all the way down to her high heels. With her right foot she flings them at her client and they land square on his face, "I believe those are yours."

The man takes in a deep breath allowing her fragrance to fill his nose, bringing his serotonin levels to a new high. This time it was completely different than her going to the restroom and coming back with the product. He actually got to see her take them off, and when she stood back up; he looked intently at her thin strip of shaved pussy hair until the panties on his face blocked his view.

"You tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it," he says with a look of putty on his face.

"Take off your clothes; I want to see your body."

Marty is not disappointed. His abdominal muscles are perfect squares framed in by the slender V shape of his midsection. When he exposed his manhood, he too was properly trimmed and manicured. His penis was at the mid-way point of flaccid and erect and he was already bigger than her husband. She can't wait to feel it inside of her.

With her panties already in his possession and her blouse and skirt on the floor, she walks over to him in her heels with just her leggings and bra on. She rubs her hands all over his pectoral muscles and over to his biceps then down to his hands. She raises one up to her perky breast and places it there as she puts the other hand to her bare lady flower. As she holds his hand down on her clit, she releases the one on her nipple and puts her fingers on his. She begins to twist it and he does hers as she gently licks his coffee flavored lips.

As their bodies are pressed against each other she can feel the thick hardness of his staff. She moves her hand to take control of it; once she has it, she slides it along her sensitive female lips. The ripples of his shaft bump over her sensitivities as he slides it back and forth, wetness leaking out of her with every brush. He grabs her under her round butt cheeks and lifts her up with his strong arms. She keeps control of his member and as she rises higher she is able to slip him inside of her.

"Your cock is so big, I love it." She wasn't ready for someone of his size so he didn't enter all the way at first.

"I'm gonna need to get that tight pussy wet." He lays her down on the bed and lubes her up with his tongue, making sure to pay special attention to her candy hole.

"Oooh yeah, that feels so good." She grabs the sheets and lets out a moan.

He sticks a finger into her back door hole as he tongue fucks her sugar walls. He can feel her pussy tighten around his mouth member and taste her sweet nectar flow down the back of his throat. "Yummy," he says licking his lips.

"It's my turn to give you head." She wants to make sure his meaty rock will be properly ready. She puts as much of the large prick in her mouth as possible, wanting to get a taste of his machismo. What parts of his enlarged rod she can't fit into her mouth she licks thoroughly. Once they are both ready, she mounts him like an equestrian ready to gallop; up and down; back and forth; in and out; rubbing her hands over his toned and hard body. His hands are caressing her round chest making sure to squeeze her nipples between his fingers.

With her orgasm nearing, she puts her hand down on her clit to aid its arrival. She swings her head forward, her hair lashing like a whip down to her lover's face. With a hard thrust he unleashes his lust filled fury. The explosion inside of her sends her over the limit. She begins to saturate his large man meat with her own juices and drags her nails across his buffed chest, leaving red marks in their trail. He holds his hips high keeping himself deep inside of her as she rides out the intense rush coming over her body.

"I fucking needed that," she says as she flops next to him on the bed.

"I'm glad you liked it," he states as he props himself on his elbow to look at her.

Marty is gazing at the ceiling with the after effects still coursing through her extremities. She doesn't think about her husband after such a taboo experience, she thinks about the money she just made and the thought of this becoming a regular thing.

She looks to her lover and he has a different look on his face, one of evil. She never even sees it coming, a sharp blade dragged across her neck. So sharp is the knife-edge that she doesn't feel the cut; she senses warm liquid pouring down the sides of her neck; her life fading with every pump spilling out of her throat.

As she lay there dying, she can see the man stand up. She never got his name, for what they were doing there was no need for proper introductions. Just hand over the money and the underwear and that is all. She sees him put on her lacey thong- the one she gave him today. Then he puts on his pants and the rest of his clothes and walks out the door. Now her thoughts are of her husband. It took this for her to consider him; then she thinks how sad that is.

It's not the first time this man seduced his way to murder. He understood what he was doing with Marty, he was exacting and precise. He said things he knew she'd believe and he had good looks to lure her in. Now the clever lady killer is back on the internet. He's looking for another pair of panties he can play his game of death with. Who will be next?

Enjoy the first chapter of, Four Degrees: Searching for Mr. Right



My name is Charlene Rocco but everyone calls me Charlie. I'm married to Jonathan Rocco; or to his friends, Rocky. He tells everyone it's because he fights like Rocky Balboa, but that just makes him sound cool. Lately we have been at the opposite ends of the love spectrum. I'm forty and he is forty-two, we've been married for around sixteen years and they were the best until a couple years ago. We met in a mixed martial arts class. I was attending because grappling and striking are great ways to get a full workout without having to lift a shit ton of weights. He was there for the same reason, but he also wanted to compete in fights. He could never seem to make the time, then we started dating heavy and he just wanted to work out with me instead. I'll have to admit that did make me feel important. He was quite the looker and I didn't want his face to turn into hamburger as I've heard many of the fighters put it. When he turned his focus to me everything was going great. We even had the same interest in music and entertainment which made us even more compatible. Going to see a live show was something we both enjoyed.

We were great for each other all the way to the bedroom. I'm a woman who knows what she wants in between the sheets and I'm not afraid to voice what turns me on. I started pleasuring myself from a very young age and even as a virgin, I was looking forward to breaking my cherry with some kinky sex. I've never been a prude when it comes to positions and I absolutely love deep throating cock. In fact, giving a man head actually gets me off. I'm a huge fan of swallowing cum and love a stiff hard dick in my tight ass. I could go on and on about the heightened orgasms I have with anal sex. For as confident and horny as I am in the bedroom, I'm absolutely a lady. I wear elegant dresses when going to elegant places, I have a wardrobe that I will classify as "sophisticated sexy" and even when I'm casual in my comic book or band t-shirt, I make sure it complements my small yet perky breast as well as my womanly frame. I'm very comfortable with tight fitting jeans and a pair of Chuck Taylor or Vans.

I write a column for a hipster magazine called "Pink Metal." The articles are aimed at women who like a little badass to go along with femininity. Our office is located near the Japanese tea gardens in San Francisco, only a ten minute walk away. I was born and raised in Central California, let's be real; there is nothing worth going higher than Sacramento, everything is just cattle farms and crops from then up. I moved to Chicago with Jon after I had gotten the job and was lucky enough to have my employer be okay with it. It's a bit of traveling, but I only have to come in to see my editor once a week. I'm done with our meeting so I'm going to meet up with some friends, a workmate, and my longtime girlfriend Janelle. I'm catching up with her in route to Gianni's Restaurant for mimosas and brunch.

Janelle and I have been friends from the first day of college. I don’t think anyone will ever understand me more than she will. I was hoping it would have been my husband but with everything that has been going on, he is showing me that he is not the one. I though, rather hoped he was going to be. He never touched me other than the ways I wanted him to, never struck or pushed me, never was overly angry with me for anything, not even when I accidentally knocked his prized fish back into Lake Michigan. He just told me that we'll have to eat fast food instead. Lately he has gone off the deep end. I think it was after he woke up one morning and there were fewer hairs on his head than there were the day before. For some reason he doesn't want to do the Bruce Willis thing and shave his head completely even after I told him that it would be sexy.

He went on some rubbernecking kick looking at younger girls out of the corner of his eye. I would catch him of course. I wasn't bothered by it, not so much at first but then it started to get progressively worse. By the next year he had gone to basically drooling at them right in front of me. Every so often I would hear some kind of lusting remark from him. Still at this point I was not afraid of his wondering eye or sexual remarks. I may not be the coat rack supermodel but I know I look damn good for my age. There are women who are fifteen years younger that wish they could look this fine. I found a gym to continue my MMA workout so I have nothing to worry about.

It wasn't until he said the one thing I didn't want to hear from his insecurity, "We should take her home with us." Now the way he said it was not mean and insulting mind you. He knows I had one encounter with a female, but to think that will get you a threesome because you don't want to get old is flat out ridiculous. Because he was my husband, I had told him about the one night Janelle and I had after a couple bottles of wine. We are both very sexual and have always told each other, what we call "War Stories"; because great sex if like a powerful fight between two willing participants. That one night we were both curious and trusted each other completely. I am not afraid of my own body so why should I be afraid of my friends? We had a great experience, and had found pleasure in each other's touch but it was just not what we wanted. The best way to describe how I felt after is; her elegant finger in my ass made me really want to try it with a nice hard man.

From that moment my Rocky, the man who gave up the dream of becoming a fighter for me, was no longer the man I could love. I will have to say that I'm still not afraid of other naked women; I just don't see the reason to bring another female into our love making. I am more than willing to be everything he could ever want in the bedroom. He is after all the only man who has been able to satisfy my anal desire, but no longer. I want a man in there, but he lost my interest when everything I do to please him was no longer enough.

I see Janelle walking out of her building. She is a matchmaker but funny enough, she herself is single. She says it's because she's too busy playing the field; one of those, "Why eat the same cereal every morning when you can get the milk for free" kind of ladies. I've always looked at it as "As long as I'm eating cereal and drinking milk every day, I'm satisfied." When Jon and I were at our best for those beginning years, I had more sex than I ever had single, and I had a lot of sex when I was single. It was never about how many guys I could bag, quite a few I will say, but it is more about the quality of the sex and how often. Janelle, not so much, she got as much tail as I did, but she would be a little more particular in her choices. At the bar all she goes after are the "hot ones" and sure, who wouldn't like to bang the cute guy. As for me, the dude looking like he will wear me as a feed bag is my first choice. Getting mine is more important than who gives it to me. That is probably the only place she and I differ, but it's something I can live with, and so can she.

Janelle and I make our way inside the busy restaurant and are greeted by the hostess that takes us to the booth the two friends are sitting at. I take a seat next to Ally while Janelle sits across from me and next to Sonya.

"You girls are going to need to catch up, I'm already on my second drink," says Ally. She has two umbrellas sitting next to an empty hurricane glass and she is about to take her last sip through the thick straw.

"How long have you girls been waiting? I ask.

Sonya looks at her Rolex. "It's only been about ten minutes."

"Don't mean to be rude but I've got to use the little girl's room. These drinks are going right through me. Oh, by the way, make sure to order me another round when you place yours," says a slightly tipsy Ally.

"Dude, what's up with that girl?" Janelle asks Sonya.

"She's been waiting on a text from Mr. gorgeous. You remember that guy Dillon with the six pack abs, well that's the one she wants. I think he's rather pointless. The only thing the guy has going for him are his looks.

"Fuck that guy, there's more than one man in an ocean of fish." Janelle always knows how to say it tactfully.

The waiter comes over to see if we would like something to drink. Janelle and I place an order for a cocktail. We both decide to stick with mimosas and not dive right into the hard stuff. It's a little early in the day for me to get sloshed and besides I'm not a heavy drinker, I'd actually prefer a tasty joint.

Ally returns from the restroom and immediately grabs her drink. "Thanks for ordering me another round." She bypasses the straw and opts for a huge chug from the delicate crystal. "Did I get a text while I was away?" She takes another chug and then sits down.

"No, Ally. Just chill out and stop worrying about some text message." Sonya is getting a little irritated with her.

Ally nonchalantly brushes it off and reaches for her phone, double checking just in case Sonya is wrong. She continues to look at her cell, scrolling through pictures of hotties, waiting impatiently for that text. Then someone catches her eye. It is a tall gorgeous waiter and he is carrying a tray of cocktails to the nearby table.

"Oh my, do you see the muscles on that guy. He's hot enough to fuck." Ally tosses her phone into her purse. She's found herself a pleasing distraction.

We finish chatting it up and catching a buzz. I have to catch my flight back to Chicago and Sonya is excited to get back home to see what little trinket her dear Robert will have as a gift for her. He's been out of town for the past two days on business, but more than likely he was also off fucking his mistress, that's where the gifts come in to cover his guilty conscience. Sonya has no clue. Janelle has a fuck buddy date planned out for later and Ally was lucky enough to bag herself the hot waiter so she's still staying for more drinks until the stud gets off work. As for me, I'm outta here.


I was able to upgrade my flight to nonstop, now I'll be able to surprise Rocky and be home two hours early. I'm happy I avoided the dreaded layover and was able to get some much needed rest on the plane. I'm getting ready to pick up my luggage at the rotating carousel when I notice a couple getting off of the escalator. I take a second look and the ditsy young blonde locks eyes with me. She is all giddy with her fake boobies bouncing in her low cut top. The older guy doesn't notice me because he is staring at this girl's massive tits. He looks so familiar. It can't be, I think to myself. And then I get a better look at his face. It's Rocky and he's sporting an obvious toupee and acting like a horny young buck, or rather a silly old man. I knew things were getting bad between us but this just sealed the deal. I'm not one to make a scene especially in public and I'm not going to blow his cover. She can have him. We're done.

About the Author

Hey everyone, I'm Jane Emery and I'm an erotica romance author. I love writing fun adventure stories with naughty sex. I'm a huge comic book fan and listen to heavy metal and trip-hop music. My interests range from MMA to geeking out on a Doctor Who marathon. My love of music has prompted me to play the guitar and on days when I'm not busy writing; you'll find me jamming with my spouse. I currently live in California with my hubby and dog named Shark-Bite.
I love adventure along with fantasy and science fiction, card games and chess, puzzles and anything entertaining. Good food, great friends, the love of animals and looking at the mountains off in the distance bring me joy.
Some of my favorite bands include: Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Mastodon, Tool, Russian Circles, Massive Attack, Mogwai, Portishead, Aesop Rock, Handsome Boy Modeling School, Nina Simone and Cab Calloway.
Shows & Movies: The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Man of Steel, Star Wars, Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy, Person of Interest, Grimm, Once Upon A Time, Face/Off and, of course, Doctor Who.

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