As I’m sure I’ve mentioned, Over Her Knee is coming on February 6. Pre-order it now! And, while you wait, here’s a taste (no pun intended) of the first story in the book, “Any Port in a Storm”.

I took a long moment to appreciate the way Jo looked. Of all the women I’d met since the divorce, she was by far the most beautiful. I drew my hand down her stomach, feeling the softness of the curve there, tracing a fingertip over one of many stretch marks. I knew she had kids — she’d told me about them; all in college or graduated already, just like mine — and her body showed it.

And I wanted her body. So much.

I found the sides of her panties and she lifted her hips to let me pull them down and off. They’d left a slight indentation around the waistline; I brushed my fingers over it, and then kissed it. I felt her shiver — she must be a little ticklish — and noted that reaction for later as I kissed my way downward. She had light-brown pubic hair, trimmed and shaped to look neat, and I could just see the outlines of her lips through it. I could also see the irregular little pucker of her ass, and wondered if she was into anal sex as well — I’d always wanted to try it.

Then I stopped wondering, because she was reaching behind her knees, opening herself up to me, and I could see just how wet she already was. “Well?”

I had very little practical experience with giving head. My offers to Melanie had been rejected for the past twenty years or so, and I barely remembered what it was like from before her. It didn’t stop me, though; I lowered my head and gave Jo a long, experimental lick, starting at her perineum and ending at her clit.

She gasped.

Then her legs came down, pulling me in, mashing my face between her legs even as she grabbed hold of my hair for extra leverage. I took a surprised breath in and discovered that she smelled — and tasted — pretty damn good. I guess my ex-wife’s issue had been one of grooming, because she never had, as far as I could remember.

That hurdle passed, I threw myself into eating Jo with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. I held onto her thighs with both hands as I buried my tongue inside her, clit pressed against my nose, pubic hair tickling my cheeks. It seemed to be the right thing to do; her legs loosened and her hands went to the sides of my head as she bucked against my mouth. I thrust my tongue in and out of her, drew it up and down, did everything I could think of until she was moaning and I could feel her pulse thundering in my ears every time her legs closed involuntarily around me.

This story is reprinted from its original appearance in Baker’s Dozen. Most of the stories in Over her Knee are reprints, and I make no secret of it; it even says so on the copyright page. The book exists to collect all of my female-top-male-bottom spanking stories in one place, so those folks who prefer those kinds of stories can find them in one convenient volume. If you’re one of those people, you should probably pre-order the book now.