Daniel's life is not going to plan. He and his wife Carol are three months into a trial separation that he didn't want or understand. And now his seventeen-year-old daughter, Layla, has gone off into the night, on foot and barely dressed. His searches are in vain, and he's scared shitless. When he finally does find her, she's unrepentant and downright disrespectful. Something snaps inside him, and, for the first time ever, he raises his hand to her. He spanks her.
"Norman had finally persuaded Jenny to do him." Do him with a dildo, that is. And things are never the same.
This is one of a very few pure "stroke" stories by me.
Sheila thought she had everything. She didn't know she could need more that Pete and Phillipe and... But then she met Art. This is a hard story to fit story codes to. Sheila is sexually adventuresome, but this is primarily a romance.
If you've ever watched an 80s beach movie and thought, "This could use more existential horror, heavier satire, and a lot more bouncing," then congratulations—this book was made for you. Bikini Beach isn't just a parody. It's a celebration of the vapid, sun-drenched, neon-drenched excess of a forgotten era, when movies didn't need a plot as long as they had slow-motion jiggling and a beach party finale
What starts as a happy swinging couple turns tragic. Faced with racing his daughter alone, a father does his best. As she becomes an adult, he turns back to swinging, and attends a Halloween party with a sinister plot. Little does he know that karma can be a royal bitch. Shock, acceptance, and then a double shock rocks this father/daughter team.