Anthologies Featuring Works by Allen Dusk
|Contains Allen’s short
“Shades of Desire”
|Contains Allen’s short
“Wrappings and Rapture”
|Contains Allen’s short
|Contains Allen’s short
Recent Updates from Allen
Over the weekend I finally had a chance to meetup with Rose and "Big Daddy" Caraway. We hung out in their studio chatting about Shady Palms, Diverse Desires, and other projects I have coming out in the near future (hopefully).
For myself, it was a very surreal experience. Rose and I have tweeted, emailed, texted, and shared each others posts for a few years now. She's also interviewed me twice before and narrated several of my projects, such as "Terminal Affair" and "Black Sun Bound". Sitting there in the booth with her right across from me and with Big Daddy running the controls was like living a waking dream. Any moment I was expecting my wife to elbow me in the ribs while telling me to wake up. But it never happened. The dream kept running on...we went to lunch after recording and then hung out in Old Town Sacramento so we could play around in a cool little shop called Evangeline's.
Head over to Rose's Sexy Librarian Blogcast to listen to all of her other interviews, but most of all check out Rose's The Kiss Me Quick's Erotica Podcast and the other works she has narrated on Audible.com.
Listen to my latest interview with Rose through the media player below
or directly from her website.
He knew he needed to keep his distance, not only to avoid being seen, but to keep downwind of whatever fearsome canine she kept in the house. He took stock of the trees beyond the back fence. A towering red oak stood out from the rest, and seemed best suited as the perfect perch. Its autumn-tinted leaves offered ideal concealment.
Scaling the twisted trunk only took a minute. The thickest branch, which would easily hold his weight, overlooked the backyard and offered a direct view of the window his instincts felt best belonged to the master bedroom.
Agony throbbed through Mario's cock. He shifted his weight to try and get some relief, but the discomfort worsened as more blood was allowed to circulate.
Not yet, he thought. It's too soon to come. Although he was positive her enchantment could inspire him to come repeatedly until his nuts dried out. Still, it was far too soon to gratify himself; after all, she had just opened the window.
Mario dialed back the magnification, opening the field of view to admire her full-frontal physique. In all the years of thumbing through Playboys, jerking-off to porn, and spying through windows, he had never seen a more perfect body.
"Curse this muggy night," Amira said, fanning her arms. Perspiration beaded down her flushed chest.
She walked over to the makeup table, then raised a hurricane glass dripping with condensation. Ice cubes sloshed around the blue cocktail as she pressed it against her neck. Her nipples hardened in response. Gooseflesh raised along her neck and arms before a sigh quivered past through her lips.
Mario swept the binoculars from side to side, hoping to determine the dog's whereabouts. European furnishings from the turn of the century adorned the room; sheer black drapes flowed from the posted canopy bed, candles flickered around her silver vanity, and a wide selection of gowns hung from her wardrobe. An oval dressing mirror rested on a base of clawed feet, and its reflection offered a glimpse of the imposing pedestal tub inside the master bath. A modest collection of rings and pendants, each set with dazzling gemstones, laid about her vanity. In the far corner stacks of books buried a roll-top desk. He even scanned the shadows beneath the bed, but the animal eluded him.
Sweat seeped past the eye-cuffs, stinging Mario's eyes. He lowered the binoculars and wiped his face with his sleeve. Several pronounced blinks, along with rolling his eyes, gradually restored his vision. He returned the lenses to his face and gasped. Amira's eyes bore down on him; candlelight flickered in her gaze like flames from Hell.
Icy fingers crept along Mario's spine, paralyzing his body against the branch. Breath evacuated his lungs, causing his galloping heart to rattle his ribs. The binoculars were military-grade with anti-reflective coating which prevented soldiers from becoming sniper bait. He retraced every careful step along his approach, never recalling an instant where he broke his cover.
Mario attempted to kick his paranoia to the forest floor, hoping he was jumping to conclusions. No matter what he thought to ease his own guilt, he had seen the exact same stare repeatedly through peepholes and curtain slits. Only people who knew they were being watched ever wore such an expression.
Amira's supple lips smirked. She stretched out her arm, beckoning him with her finger.
No fucking way, Mario's mind raced. She'll call the cops for sure. Impulses surged through his nerves, commanding him to dare not move, but be ready to run.
"Hey there," she shouted. "I can see you in my tree! Why don't you climb down from there before you get hurt?" She didn't seem the slightest bit embarrassed, nor did she make any effort to cover herself.
Shame shrouded his expression, yet he refused to budge.
"Don't worry; I'm not going to call the police."
Mario remained still, his jumbled brain busy calculating the next course of action. A quick glance at the ground confirmed he was far too high for jumping without the chance of injury. He pictured himself delivering packages with a limp while his ankle rehearsed the act of splintering. He looked down again. Maybe he could make it.
"Alright, fine." She snickered. "But if you stay up in that tree all night you'll never get to slip inside this pussy." Her slender fingers glided over her mound, then teased the soft, red curls.
He couldn't believe his eyes, or the words she spoke. Anybody else would have grabbed for their towel while their blood-curdling screams pierced his ears. No fucking way, he told himself again. She's probably got a gun.
"Hmm, so you're going to sit there all night?" Amira stroked her pussy, spreading the tender lips with her fingers. "You're going to miss out."
"You're not calling the cops?" His voice cracked, his courage vanishing when he heard the sound of his own voice.
Her laughter transcended into cackling. "No silly. If I did that, then they would probably arrest you before we had a chance to fuck."
When fuck rolled off her tongue the anticipation squeezed off Mario's throat. He reviewed the path with which he climbed the tree, wondering how he ever made it so high. Darkness masked every grip and foothold, promising to make the descent a bitch.
"Don't take all night." She approached her bed and sat on the edge. Her tongue danced along her finger tips, leaving behind tendrils of saliva which she smeared over her breast. "Or I'll finish this myself."
She lowered her head and cupped her breasts upward so her tongue could trace wet circles over her cleavage. She wrapped her lips around her left nipple, sucking hardness up through the sensitive flesh. She moaned briefly before sucking her other breast. She flashed her eyes upward, passion burned within her gaze. "Don't keep me waiting."
A delivery man stumbles upon a beautiful woman at the end of his route. He knows he should leave her well enough alone; after all he's on the run from his own checkered past. Her image haunts him until he can no longer resist the urge to sneak one last peek. He hides up in a tree, eagerly waiting for the show to begin. Little does he know that tonight he's the main attraction.