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Be Rough, I Like It!
Copyright © Zoe M Bates 2012 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be produced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the written prior permission of the author. The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. All characters are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All are 18 years old or over. Published through
Amazon KDP Programme
Original Cover Image/s from
Shutterstock
The following Free Excerpt is exclusive to Goodreads
This'll do, I thought to myself as I let the bar door close behind me, and as I took in the two guys drinking at the bar, and they will do as well! The one furthest from the door, who I assumed to be the barman because of his nicely cut jeans, neat T-shirt top and exceedingly smart shoes, gave me a friendly nod, and a cheeky 'more-thanwelcoming' smile, a smile that seemed to say hello, hello, hello, what's this then – as I sauntered closer to the bar. He was in his early forties maybe, but looked good for it; neatly turned out, slim physique, and with ruggedly handsome facial features! He quickly smoothed his fingers through his dark brown hair as he took me in, not an action of vanity, but just something to do with his hands as his eyes fully soaked in the delight of my body, which I'd crammed into my most revealing dress, a lovely red satin one, just for this very occasion – when I was going to get well and truly fucked and creamed by a couple of complete strangers! When I was half way to the bar, he nodded almost imperceptibly in my direction to his mate, who in turn twisted around on his barstool, to see who owned the loudly clacking heels he could no doubt hear.
He was slightly younger than the first guy I think; maybe thirty-seven, or thirty-eight, and was dressed much more casually; in standard jeans and a printed T-shirt, which showed off a nice set of arms, good strong arms! And beneath a scruffy mop of dark blonde hair, he had an equally rugged face, but on which was painted an expression of sure-fire cockiness, accompanied by a really dirty smile, which sent a shiver of excitement down my spine. "Dan!" he offered, as he patted the leatherupholstered barstool between them both, inviting me to sit my behind down on it, which I duly did. "Simon!" the smarter-looking guy added, as he cast me an acknowledging nod, before his eyes drifted helplessly down to my cleavage, where my breasts were practically hanging out of the front of my dress. That's what my husband had liked about it too, when he gave it to me as an anniversary present before we went out for a romantic dinner one night, not long after the first time I'd suspected him of cheating. Back then, I'd been pretty embarrassed at wearing it, because it was so risqué, and rude, and so slutty-looking even, especially considering we were dining at quite a highbrow restaurant – but tonight I was
rejoicing in those emotions, and was fully embracing them. I wanted to look like a filthy slut, because that's exactly how I was feeling! "Oh fuck, fuck, fucking, fuck!" I gasped out loud, as I slapped a hand down on the top of the bar. "Sounds like someone could do with a drink," Simon said, as he stood and then moved around to the other side of the bar. "Why thank you barman," I said, fixing his face with a smile. "Oh I'm not the barman!" he explained, holding up his hands in front of him in mock denial. "The barman, the owner, and all the other regulars are next door, watching the semi-final." "The owner had a 'disagreement' with the satellite company," Dan chipped in, "and lost the rights to put it on here tonight." "So why aren't you…?" "I'm taping it at home for later," Simon explained. "And I'm not bothered in the slightest," Dan added flatly. "And besides, the bar had to stay open as part of the owners sponsors deal … or
something or other … and so we could take in any waifs and strays that turned up at the door." He fixed his searching gaze to my eyes when he said that, "And so Simon and I agreed to stay here and keep an eye on the place for a couple of hours." "Good move!" I sighed, smiling to them both, as I shook my head from side to side for a moment, to make my hair look even more wild and sexy under the low bar lights. "So what do you fancy?" Simon asked, as he gestured out towards the multitude of drinks on tap, and shelf after shelf of bottled spirits. "What's that you guys are drinking?" I asked, checking the half-empty pint glasses they'd been supping from when I came in. "Cider," Dan replied, as he slid his glass towards me, "give it a try if you like!" I pulled a face, before being brutally honest with him. "I'm not being funny, but it actually looks like piss!" They both laughed as one at this, as I held my smile in check - just!
"It definitely doesn't taste like piss I can assure you!" Simon stated matter-of-factly. Still not looking convinced, I grabbed Dan's glass, lifted it to my lips, and then drank deep from it. I swilled the first mouthful around the inside of my mouth, and then swallowed it down. I'm a wine-girl myself, and so it was a bit different to what my palette was used to, but I have to say it was pretty nice that's for sure, quite sharp and refreshing, and pretty more-ish too. Almost to prove the point, and because I wanted to, I drank down and swallowed a few more mouthfuls, until I finally placed the glass back on to the bar, with only half-an-inch left in it. "So what did you think?" Dan asked, sounding genuinely curious. I pondered the question for a second, before shaking my head, and telling a barefaced lie. "It most definitely does taste like piss!" Simon laughed softly at that, before a more puzzled expression grew on his face. "And you know that for sure how…?" Dan challenged. "Cheeky!" I replied.
Then after a slightly awkward moment, Simon started to say out loud what he must have been thinking – while watching me guzzling the mouthfuls of thick golden liquid down my throat, and into my belly. "So would you … or have you ever … drunk any pi…" "Never on a first date!" I interrupted sharply, but not too seriously. He smiled comfortably back at me, and then flashed me a cheeky wink. "Just asking!" And then he took up Dan's glass, emptied the dregs down the sink, and then refilled it, which was when I noticed the huge bulge in the front of his jeans from all the dirty talk. "So what are you doing here tonight?" Dan asked next, pulling my eyes away from the delicious looking sight. "Here to get pissed?" And then he started to take a nice long sip of his fresh pint of cider. "No," I half-laughed, shaking my head, before I lifted my gaze back to theirs, my expression becoming completely serious. "I'm here to get fucked!"
The reaction wasn't what I'd expected; Dan laughed out loud, and in the same process spat half of the cider he'd just supped across the bar, peppering it with dozens and dozens of tiny droplets, as on the other side of the bar, Simon's mouth gaped wide open in shock. "Sorry?" Dan spluttered, as he caught the bar cloth Simon had thrown him, and started cleaning up the mess he'd made. "I'm here to get fucked!" I repeated, simple as you like, because that was the truth. "Why?" Simon asked, as he sauntered as coolly as he was able around the end of the bar, to take in more of my hot body, and my ready-to-spillout breasts, as I started to explain. I took a big swig from his glass this time, really enjoying the smooth texture of the cider as it glided down my throat, and the subtle soothing buzz of the alcohol that I got from Dan's earlier, and did just that. "I've thought my husband had cheated on me many, many times over the years we've been married," I started, as I reached a hand into my tiny little shoulder bag, "but I've never been able to quite prove it…"
Dan took another long sip of his drink as he listened, this time without spilling a single drop. "…Which is why I employed one of those honey-trap detectives to find out once and for all if he was susceptible to advances from other women, and if he ever slept around." Both men drew in a sharp intake of breath at this, and their sombred expressions indicated that they pretty much knew where this was going. "And," I said firmly, as I slipped my touchphone from its protective cover, after which I started navigating to my Images directory, "it sounds as if he failed miserably! And then my rant began. "He asked for the pretty young woman's number after only ten minutes of mild flirting…" "Really?" Simon chipped in, although I don't think he sounded hugely surprised. "…Had lunch with her only two days after that…" Dan raised his eyebrows, and took another long swig of cider. "…And then, booked a hotel room for the very next night, when he told me he was at an
emergency fucking trustees meeting with his company…" "Shit!" Simon exclaimed. "…When he was actually fucking the shit out of that paid-for little whore!" And then I let out a huge animalistic scream into the phone, which, once I'd calmed down, I turned towards Simon and Dan, so they could see the proof for themselves. They both leaned in close to take a look at the screen, as I flicked through the increasingly dirtier set of images. End of this free excerpt
Be Rough, I Like It!
Copyright © Zoe M Bates 2012 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be produced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the written prior permission of the author. The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. All characters are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All are 18 years old or over. Published through
Amazon KDP Programme
Original Cover Image/s from
Shutterstock
The following Free Excerpt is exclusive to Goodreads
This'll do, I thought to myself as I let the bar door close behind me, and as I took in the two guys drinking at the bar, and they will do as well! The one furthest from the door, who I assumed to be the barman because of his nicely cut jeans, neat T-shirt top and exceedingly smart shoes, gave me a friendly nod, and a cheeky 'more-thanwelcoming' smile, a smile that seemed to say hello, hello, hello, what's this then – as I sauntered closer to the bar. He was in his early forties maybe, but looked good for it; neatly turned out, slim physique, and with ruggedly handsome facial features! He quickly smoothed his fingers through his dark brown hair as he took me in, not an action of vanity, but just something to do with his hands as his eyes fully soaked in the delight of my body, which I'd crammed into my most revealing dress, a lovely red satin one, just for this very occasion – when I was going to get well and truly fucked and creamed by a couple of complete strangers! When I was half way to the bar, he nodded almost imperceptibly in my direction to his mate, who in turn twisted around on his barstool, to see who owned the loudly clacking heels he could no doubt hear.
He was slightly younger than the first guy I think; maybe thirty-seven, or thirty-eight, and was dressed much more casually; in standard jeans and a printed T-shirt, which showed off a nice set of arms, good strong arms! And beneath a scruffy mop of dark blonde hair, he had an equally rugged face, but on which was painted an expression of sure-fire cockiness, accompanied by a really dirty smile, which sent a shiver of excitement down my spine. "Dan!" he offered, as he patted the leatherupholstered barstool between them both, inviting me to sit my behind down on it, which I duly did. "Simon!" the smarter-looking guy added, as he cast me an acknowledging nod, before his eyes drifted helplessly down to my cleavage, where my breasts were practically hanging out of the front of my dress. That's what my husband had liked about it too, when he gave it to me as an anniversary present before we went out for a romantic dinner one night, not long after the first time I'd suspected him of cheating. Back then, I'd been pretty embarrassed at wearing it, because it was so risqué, and rude, and so slutty-looking even, especially considering we were dining at quite a highbrow restaurant – but tonight I was
rejoicing in those emotions, and was fully embracing them. I wanted to look like a filthy slut, because that's exactly how I was feeling! "Oh fuck, fuck, fucking, fuck!" I gasped out loud, as I slapped a hand down on the top of the bar. "Sounds like someone could do with a drink," Simon said, as he stood and then moved around to the other side of the bar. "Why thank you barman," I said, fixing his face with a smile. "Oh I'm not the barman!" he explained, holding up his hands in front of him in mock denial. "The barman, the owner, and all the other regulars are next door, watching the semi-final." "The owner had a 'disagreement' with the satellite company," Dan chipped in, "and lost the rights to put it on here tonight." "So why aren't you…?" "I'm taping it at home for later," Simon explained. "And I'm not bothered in the slightest," Dan added flatly. "And besides, the bar had to stay open as part of the owners sponsors deal … or
something or other … and so we could take in any waifs and strays that turned up at the door." He fixed his searching gaze to my eyes when he said that, "And so Simon and I agreed to stay here and keep an eye on the place for a couple of hours." "Good move!" I sighed, smiling to them both, as I shook my head from side to side for a moment, to make my hair look even more wild and sexy under the low bar lights. "So what do you fancy?" Simon asked, as he gestured out towards the multitude of drinks on tap, and shelf after shelf of bottled spirits. "What's that you guys are drinking?" I asked, checking the half-empty pint glasses they'd been supping from when I came in. "Cider," Dan replied, as he slid his glass towards me, "give it a try if you like!" I pulled a face, before being brutally honest with him. "I'm not being funny, but it actually looks like piss!" They both laughed as one at this, as I held my smile in check - just!
"It definitely doesn't taste like piss I can assure you!" Simon stated matter-of-factly. Still not looking convinced, I grabbed Dan's glass, lifted it to my lips, and then drank deep from it. I swilled the first mouthful around the inside of my mouth, and then swallowed it down. I'm a wine-girl myself, and so it was a bit different to what my palette was used to, but I have to say it was pretty nice that's for sure, quite sharp and refreshing, and pretty more-ish too. Almost to prove the point, and because I wanted to, I drank down and swallowed a few more mouthfuls, until I finally placed the glass back on to the bar, with only half-an-inch left in it. "So what did you think?" Dan asked, sounding genuinely curious. I pondered the question for a second, before shaking my head, and telling a barefaced lie. "It most definitely does taste like piss!" Simon laughed softly at that, before a more puzzled expression grew on his face. "And you know that for sure how…?" Dan challenged. "Cheeky!" I replied.
Then after a slightly awkward moment, Simon started to say out loud what he must have been thinking – while watching me guzzling the mouthfuls of thick golden liquid down my throat, and into my belly. "So would you … or have you ever … drunk any pi…" "Never on a first date!" I interrupted sharply, but not too seriously. He smiled comfortably back at me, and then flashed me a cheeky wink. "Just asking!" And then he took up Dan's glass, emptied the dregs down the sink, and then refilled it, which was when I noticed the huge bulge in the front of his jeans from all the dirty talk. "So what are you doing here tonight?" Dan asked next, pulling my eyes away from the delicious looking sight. "Here to get pissed?" And then he started to take a nice long sip of his fresh pint of cider. "No," I half-laughed, shaking my head, before I lifted my gaze back to theirs, my expression becoming completely serious. "I'm here to get fucked!"
The reaction wasn't what I'd expected; Dan laughed out loud, and in the same process spat half of the cider he'd just supped across the bar, peppering it with dozens and dozens of tiny droplets, as on the other side of the bar, Simon's mouth gaped wide open in shock. "Sorry?" Dan spluttered, as he caught the bar cloth Simon had thrown him, and started cleaning up the mess he'd made. "I'm here to get fucked!" I repeated, simple as you like, because that was the truth. "Why?" Simon asked, as he sauntered as coolly as he was able around the end of the bar, to take in more of my hot body, and my ready-to-spillout breasts, as I started to explain. I took a big swig from his glass this time, really enjoying the smooth texture of the cider as it glided down my throat, and the subtle soothing buzz of the alcohol that I got from Dan's earlier, and did just that. "I've thought my husband had cheated on me many, many times over the years we've been married," I started, as I reached a hand into my tiny little shoulder bag, "but I've never been able to quite prove it…"
Dan took another long sip of his drink as he listened, this time without spilling a single drop. "…Which is why I employed one of those honey-trap detectives to find out once and for all if he was susceptible to advances from other women, and if he ever slept around." Both men drew in a sharp intake of breath at this, and their sombred expressions indicated that they pretty much knew where this was going. "And," I said firmly, as I slipped my touchphone from its protective cover, after which I started navigating to my Images directory, "it sounds as if he failed miserably! And then my rant began. "He asked for the pretty young woman's number after only ten minutes of mild flirting…" "Really?" Simon chipped in, although I don't think he sounded hugely surprised. "…Had lunch with her only two days after that…" Dan raised his eyebrows, and took another long swig of cider. "…And then, booked a hotel room for the very next night, when he told me he was at an
emergency fucking trustees meeting with his company…" "Shit!" Simon exclaimed. "…When he was actually fucking the shit out of that paid-for little whore!" And then I let out a huge animalistic scream into the phone, which, once I'd calmed down, I turned towards Simon and Dan, so they could see the proof for themselves. They both leaned in close to take a look at the screen, as I flicked through the increasingly dirtier set of images. End of this free excerpt
