STRIPPER Exhibitionist Biker Erotica (eBook, ePUB) - Goo, Max
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Lena found her vocation in life. She was made for the job. And her husband agreed.
A short 7000-word erotic Hotwife story.
Sample : Lena saw the flyer on a battered corkboard outside a gas station.
It was one of those late-winter days that pretended to be spring-brighter sky, no warmth. She stood pumping gas into her old Toyota while her breath fogged in front of her face, glancing absently at the wall beside the station door.
Most of it was what you'd expect. Dog-walking services. Rooms for rent. Someone selling a used lawnmower.
But then, pinned slightly crooked with a…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Lena found her vocation in life. She was made for the job. And her husband agreed.

A short 7000-word erotic Hotwife story.

Sample: Lena saw the flyer on a battered corkboard outside a gas station.

It was one of those late-winter days that pretended to be spring-brighter sky, no warmth. She stood pumping gas into her old Toyota while her breath fogged in front of her face, glancing absently at the wall beside the station door.

Most of it was what you'd expect. Dog-walking services. Rooms for rent. Someone selling a used lawnmower.

But then, pinned slightly crooked with a pushpin that had lost its cap:

DANCERS WANTED

NO EXPERIENCE NEEDED

NIGHTS / CASH / CONFIDENTIAL

The Iron Fist - Ask for Styx.

Lena stared at it for too long.

She tore off one of the tabs before she even realized what she was doing.

She didn't mention it to Jake that night. They had dinner-frozen pizza and cheap wine. He rubbed her feet while they watched a rerun of House of the Dragon, and they laughed like everything was fine.

But everything wasn't fine.

Jake had been out of work for six weeks now. His last contracting gig ended early, and the new one kept delaying the start date. She was picking up extra shifts at the clinic, but it wasn't enough. The bills weren't dramatic, just... relentless. Always hovering. Eating the joy out of little things.

That flyer had been on her mind the entire evening. The stark letters. The line that said no experience needed.

She couldn't stop thinking about it.

The Iron Fist.

She knew the name.

Everyone in town did.

It was half bar, half strip club, all chaos. A place just far enough from the city to operate by its own rules. Biker-owned. Rumors always swirled-about private rooms, wild shows, no rules, or all rules optional. She'd never been inside, but she could imagine it: dark corners, loud music, men in leather with heavy stares.

It should've scared her.

But it didn't.

It thrilled her.

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Autorenporträt
Max loves reading and writing erotica, especially if it features curvy ladies and large groups of men. Her stories may be based on actual life experiences: She's confirming nothing. She's middle-aged and rebellious and lives in the UK with her brightly coloured hair.