Read Jasmine Plays Her Hand (Fantasy Guild No. 1) Online
Authors: Anwen Stiles
Tags: #gangbang, #multiple partner
Jasmine Plays Her Hand (Fantasy Guild No. 1)
Book Description
When a group of erotica lovers joined the
Ladies Naughty Book Club, they never imagined they’d transform
their secret fantasies into reality.
Jasmine and her fellow book clubbers grow
disgruntled that characters in spicy novels live larger than they
do. They want what their latest fictional heroine got — a seriously
sizzling encounter with a gang of hot, lusty men. Deciding it’s
time to make their own racy daydreams come true, they form the
Fantasy Guild. Jasmine volunteers to be the test case and sets out
to find the perfect players who will bring her high stakes poker
fantasy to life.
It’s a tantalizing first for Jasmine, and
five hard-bodied men guarantee it’ll be a game to remember.
Jasmine Plays Her Hand
Fantasy Guild No.1
Anwen Stiles
Copyright 2013 Anwen Stiles
Smashwords Edition
Jasmine Plays Her Hand (Fantasy Guild No. 1)
Copyright © 2013 Anwen Stiles, all rights
reserved
Cover images copyright © Depositphotos.com/
kiuikson, valphoto, promoteus, danielkrol85, cristovao,
maros_bauer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
organizations, places and events are invented by the author or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, organizations,
places and events, living or dead, is coincidental.
This e-book may not be reproduced, scanned, stored
or distributed in any form without prior written permission of the
author. It is intended for the purchaser’s use only.
This book is sexually graphic and intended for an
adult audience. It should only be purchased and read by those for
whom it is legal, according to local laws.
Table of
Contents
Sample of Pamela and the Hired Hands
“I liked how the swim coach took the heroine
from behind in the swimming pool.” Jasmine fanned herself
rapidly.
The other ladies smiled, eight in all, each
one fondly remembering that particular scene from the book.
“Ooh,” said Cynthia, “the way he yanked off
her bikini and bent her over the side of the pool. It was so ... so
... manly.”
Exactly. All the ladies agreed.
“And then when the other swimmers came out of
the locker room and saw her there naked. Oh my God,” said Layla,
her face tinged with a red glow, “I would have died of
embarrassment.”
“Not me,” said Jasmine. “I’d do just what she
did — tell them to line up and wait their turn. I wouldn’t want too
many of them falling on me at once. I’m not some gangbang Wonder
Woman.”
Half of the women laughed and the other half
responded with varying levels of semi-scandalized expressions. No
one in the club ever admitted that their guilty little fantasies
might be something they’d like to act out in real life. They
generally prefaced comments about erotic scenes with phrases like,
“Not that I’d do what she did,” or “It’s not something I’d want my
husband/boyfriend to do, but ...”
This was a meeting of The Ladies Naughty Book
Club, not a gathering of free-loving swingers. All of the women
present lived perfectly respectable lives, some of them married,
some dating, some neither. What they had in common was that they
loved dirty books, and they were not, in real life, sexually
adventurous. A stolen kiss from another girl in college, or letting
a boyfriend feel them up at a movie theater was the extent of their
experimentation.
These nine women (and a number of others who
weren’t present that night) had come together and formed the LNBC
after reading a popular erotic novel and discovering their shared
interests through a book lover’s web site. They met once a month,
sometimes more often, to discuss new group reads, all of them
spicy, sexy romances with commanding alpha-male heroes and spirited
heroines.
It was great fun. For a while. As time
passed, however, they found that their tastes for sexier delights
expanded the more they read. What had once seemed too hard-core and
scary, became titillating, enticing them to broaden their choices
of erotica.
They developed an increasing tolerance for
smutty delights. And now here they were, more than two years after
the formation of the club and their latest group read was titled
“Nancy Trains the Swim Team,” an explicit, multi-partner novelette.
It wasn’t naughty; it was pure smut. Okay, it was a gangbang. One
woman and lots of men, all at the same time. Downright steamy
stuff.
The ladies loved every minute of it, even
Layla, the youngest and most reserved member in the group.
And now the group’s norms had shifted again.
Jasmine had opened everyone to the idea that she, if no one else,
had contemplated doing something sexually outrageous in real life.
Not just in daydreams. In real life.
“You don’t mean that, Jasmine,” Layla said.
“You could never actually do anything so, so you know.”
“I don’t know.” Jasmine tapped her blood-red
nails on the arm of her chair. “I’ve been thinking more and more
that I just might want it. I mean, why not? I’m single, successful,
attractive enough to have my pick, more or less. Why not live it up
while I can? I just turned thirty. Life’s short, ladies.”
Several women nodded, Cynthia among them.
“If I were single,” Cynthia said, “and didn’t
have kids, I’d feel the same way. Come on, you guys. Admit it. Part
of the fantasy of reading these books is imagining being the
heroine. What if you could do more than imagine? What if you had
the balls to actually do it?”
Jasmine leaned forward in her chair. “My
point exactly. We could do it. All of us, even if you’re
married.”
Margie, a happily-married woman in her
mid-forties, held up her hand. “Not me. That’d be adultery. I don’t
cheat.”
“Me either. Or, only in my mind with pretend
lovers in books,” Cynthia said, a wistful note in her voice.
“It wouldn’t be cheating if your husbands
agreed to it,” Jasmine said.
This brought on an uproar, and no
insignificant hilarity. The ladies agreed that the idea of asking
their husbands to let them take part in a gangbang was laughable in
the extreme; it wasn’t even a remote possibility.
After the chuckles faded away, Cynthia looked
to Jasmine. “But just because some of us are out of the mix,
doesn’t mean you are. If you did it, you could tell us about it,
and we could live vicariously through you.”
Margie rolled her eyes. “This is a book club,
not a true confessions sex club.”
“That’s right,” said Layla. “We read about
sex. We don’t actually do it.”
The women broke out into chuckles and teased
Layla about how there were members of the group who, gasp, actually
did have sex.
Layla blushed. “You know what I mean. I
meant, we don’t do the crazy stuff that goes on in these dirty
books. It would be nuts. Dangerous probably.”
“Not necessarily.” Jasmine looked at each
member in turn. “What if we could have a second club? A place for
acting out our fantasies, not just dreaming about them.”
“Yeah,” said Cynthia. “We’ve read about it,
and now we go do it. Or, you do it and tell us about it. Instead of
a book report, it would be a real sex report.”
Jasmine nodded. “Something like that. I
propose we start living our fantasies. For real. Starting right
now. We could begin by arranging our own group encounters. What do
you say? Who else wants their own gangbang?”
Silence fell over the room. No one spoke for
several minutes, each woman contemplating Jasmine’s call-to-arms.
Some of them, their eyes wide and flitting from one member to the
next, would have liked to step up, but didn’t have the nerve. Some
of them had the nerve, but were in committed relationships. Layla
had neither the nerve nor a prior commitment.
Freya, an unattached, attractive redhead in
her late twenties, showed interest in Jasmine’s request. “Even if I
wanted to do it, and I’m not saying I do, I wouldn’t know how to go
about it. I mean, it would have to be safe, and controlled. Where
would we find the men?”
Margie snorted. “Finding the men wouldn’t be
a problem, I’m sure.”
Jasmine agreed. “I’m thinking about that, and
I have a few ideas.”
“But they have to be the right kind of men,
and I don’t just mean looks. Safety first. If you could manage
that, I might be interested,” said Freya. She looked surprised with
herself and backtracked with, “I mean, if you could work out the
details maybe. I don’t know.”
“Gee, that’s clear as mud.” Jasmine laughed.
“Anyone else?”
One other woman, a quiet, buxom blonde in her
early forties named Pamela, raised her hand. “I might be. If I
didn’t have to find the men. I’d be too embarrassed.”
Cynthia raised an eyebrow. “You’re
comfortable letting a bunch of men have sex with you, but you’re
too shy to ask them to do it?”
The question brought on another round of
titters and exclamations until Jasmine called for order.
“That’s okay, Pamela,” said Jasmine. “Maybe I
could get together a regular crew sort of, of interested men for us
to pick from. I’m already thinking of who I can ask. Come on, there
has to be more than just Freya, Pam and me. Step up, ladies.”
Everyone else shook their heads. No, they
didn’t want to be in a gangbang, but they all liked the idea of the
three braver members going through with it.
“You go first,” Margie said to Jasmine. “You
can report back, tell us all about it. If it goes okay, then who
knows, right? Others might want to.”
Jasmine glanced around the circle of women.
“Okay then. I’ll go first. I’ll find the men, too. We’re going to
do this thing. Every one of us. Even you, Layla, before we’re
done.”
Layla shook her head, looking a little
pale.
Cynthia patted Layla’s leg. “Don’t worry
about it, sweetie. No one’s going to make you do anything.”
Jasmine sighed. “Of course we won’t. But let
me tell you, girl, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime. Who
knows what we’re capable of?”
“So, what’ll we call this new club?” Jasmine
continued. “I’m thinking ‘Gangbang’ something.”
“Oh, not gangbang. It’s so ... so
dirty-sounding,” Layla said.
“That’s why I like it,” Jasmine said.
“I hate it,” another member chimed in.
“Me too. It’s tawdry,” added another
woman.
“Tawdry and sexy,” Cynthia said.
“Never mind gangbang, then,” Jasmine said.
“We need to find a name we can all agree on. Think of something
else.”
They were quiet for a few moments. The few
ideas some of them tossed out were immediately rejected as either
being too boring or not having anything to do with the actual club.
They tossed around a few more uninspired ideas until a quiet voice
cut through the chatter.
“The Fantasy Guild,” the voice said.
The women turned and looked at Layla, the
girl behind the voice. She shrugged.
“Perfect!” cried Jasmine. “If anyone
overhears us saying the name, they’ll just think it’s a fantasy
book club, or like a video game group. It’s perfect.”