WTF for a buck: First, Amazon adult filtered/dungeoned Seeding the Brat (making it difficult to find unless you know where to look). Next, Kobo, on a rampage to protect adult readers from debasing themselves by reading pseudo-incest, banned it. WTF? Kobo threatened authors with the removal of all their books unless they took down their incest/pseudo-incest titles. But…but…it’s fiction, right? Fantasy? The mind boggles. Before Amazon got around to banning it, I removed it. Now it’s on sale at Excitica, the ebook distributor run by bestselling erotica author Selena Kitt. Grab a copy for a buck!
Hannah was wealthy after her rich parents drowned on their swingers cruise. All the money in the world, though, couldn’t do anything about the brat’s raging hormones and her overwhelming urge to procreate. So the 18-year-old beauty set her sights on Angus, the recent college grad she grew up with and who was now the man of the house, the sprawling Victorian mansion where they were raised. (And, no, they’re not related. But if they were, so what? It’s fiction.)
One afternoon, alone in the house because the maid had the day off and Angus was out with his college friends, Hannah felt the tug of memory and descended to the basement. Other than to search for a missing box of books, she hadn’t been in the den for years. Her eyes immediately went to the closet. She had to try it out. Now a grown woman, could she still find solace in her childhood place of safety and solitude?
Grabbing a couple pillows off the couch, she opened the door and put them on an upper shelf of the double-wide closet. To her surprise, it looked like she could still fit. Maybe the closet had been remodeled in the years since she had last sought refuge here. Finding footholds on the lower shelves, she clambered up to the shelf just like when she was ten years old. It was about six feet off the floor, and she climbed in. Assuming a familiar reclining position, she reached out and pulled the louvered door closed. The faint mustiness of the closet, strangely reassuring, reminded her of an old cedar chest full of forgotten clothes.
For the first time since her parents’ death, Hannah felt safe and secure. Curled up in a near-fetal position, she listened to the faint sounds of the house—the clicks and rattles, the occasional thump of a pipe. She relaxed, at one with the near-silence. Hannah fell asleep.
The sound of footsteps woke her.
Instinctively, in a reflex from her childhood, she gripped the closet door from the inside and peered through the louvers. She was directly across from the door, and could see out, while no one could see in.
The door opened, her heart froze, and Angus stepped into the room.
Fear gripped her. Did he know about my secret place? she thought. Has he come for me? Is something wrong?
No, in a moment it was clear he didn’t know anyone else was in the room. Angus opened a drawer in a side table and pulled out a small bottle and a box of tissues. Standing in front of the couch, he stretched like a cat, his arms thrown over his head, and started to undress. He kicked off his Docksiders, pulled his Henley tee over his muscular shoulders, and then pushed down his jeans. He turned, facing away, and Hannah saw that he wasn’t wearing undershorts. His muscular buttocks flexed as he kicked off the pants and leaned over.
The sight of Angus’ broad shoulders, sculpted back muscles and creamy ass cheeks sent a shiver down her spine. Although she had often admired his masculine form at the country club pool and at the beach, she had never seen him nude before.
Angus turned. He had picked up the bottle of lube and was pouring some into his hand.
Hannah’s gaze swept down his body. Angus’ pulsing cock stood at full attention, straining toward the ceiling, as he slowly applied a coating of the slick lube. She marveled at how his dick, easily six inches long and thick, stood straight against his belly, brushing the fine hairs that radiated up from his lush pubic bush. His hand moved slowly over his cock.
Then Hannah saw something she’d never seen before. As Angus moved his hand up his shaft, his dick head disappeared under a layer of veined skin. When his hand moved down, his throbbing cock head reappeared.
That, she thought to herself, must be his foreskin. And Jewish men are circumcised. And “Angus” isn’t a Jewish name.
For the first time since she heard the disturbing news about her legal relationship to Angus, the truth sunk in. Mr. Schlubb was right. Angus couldn’t be her brother. Although her experience with cocks was limited, Hannah was sure Angus had an uncut, Gentile penis. None of the other dicks she had seen and played with had a layer of skin that slid up over the head.
Angus faced the closet door, his legs apart, as he stroked himself to a full erection. His boner curved up against his flat midriff, the pink, oval crown now unhooded, the pale shaft long and slightly bent to one side. His left hand cupped his balls, and he gently pulled the egg-shaped glands out between his muscular thighs as he pumped his rigid member. His other hand worked the shaft and crown of his throbbing penis. At the top of the stroke, he swirled the palm of his hand over his cock head, then slid down the shaft, his hips bucking.
Word count: 9,000
Price: $2.99. On sale for $0.99 on Excitica!