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TITLE: Neighborly Gestures: A Taste of Mint.
AUTHOR: Armitage, Leto. 2023.
PUBLISHER: Libertalia Press.
TAGS: Libertalia Press, Neighborly Gestures Series, Resilience Writers, Free Reads, Short Stories, Taboo, Neighborly, Dubcon, Short Reads, Erotic, Self-Discovery, Sexual Awakening, Brother-in-law, Hotwife, Light D/s
““Shannon,” I acknowledged, in the same way I would acknowledge a hyena on meth that insisted on speaking to me. The divorce might have left me with issues.”
Shannon has 1,000 boxes of Badger Scout cookies to sell before her daughter can attend the prestigious Leadership Program.
Her neighbor and ex-brother-in-law, Adam, is minted. He could probably help, but there’s a lot of history and bad blood between them.
How far are you prepared to go to buy your child an advantage in life? How far will Shannon go? And what happens if it turns out she likes it?
A Taste of Mint is the first short story in the Neighborly Gestures series, where we follow a woman’s journey to sexual awakening and a new way of life. Get it for free when you subscribe to our bi-weekly smut addendum, Holihell Headlines (NSFW).
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When the doorbell rang I expected many things, preferably something blonde and stacked. It was, but not in the form I wanted. Shannon, my ex-wife’s sister, dressed immaculately in a pair of black slacks and a cream blouse stood there. A jade pendant on a silver chain, gold bracelets and her wedding ring, all very tasteful, completed the look.
My former sister-in-law and her husband Greg were my neighbors, and she enjoyed things like reminding me when my trash cans hadn’t come in by 5 pm exactly on pick-up day. I had grown up in the house and Shannon bought the one next door when I married her sister, Susan. Now the sister was gone, and I would have been happier if both of them had been.
“Shannon,” I acknowledged, in the same way I would acknowledge a hyena on meth that insisted on speaking to me. The divorce might have left me with issues.
“Adam.” She looked at me and I was very aware I was in pyjama bottoms and a rumpled Sex Pistols T-shirt in the late afternoon. “Just getting up?”
“Up from a nap,” I said yawning. “One joy of being a, what did you call me, irresponsible wastrel, is that I can nap when I like.”
She cringed and that was when I knew she wanted something. Now, I was curious so I opened the door wider. “Wanna come in?”
A brief nod was followed by her coming in. As she passed me I appreciated that she kept in shape. In her later 30s, she didn’t look like a teenager but definitely worth the MILF label. Her approving nods continued as she evaluated my living room. “Your place is very nice.”
“By which you mean you’re surprised I don’t have neon beer signs in here.”
She turned to face me with a smile on her face that would have convinced me if I didn’t know her. “I didn’t say that,” she replied.
I made a direct line to the wet bar. “Indeed. Well, it’s hardly a collection, but even I can coordinate brown and beige from a catalog. And a cleaner comes in three times a week. Want something to drink?”
“No thank you.”
“Well, I feel like a little something for the afternoon.” Without pause, I started fixing something fruity with what I had on hand. I went light on the rum wanting a clear head, but complete sobriety with a Middleton sister in the house seemed too harsh a punishment for anyone.
She took a seat in one of the brown chairs that surround the coffee table while I was at the bar. I joined her, taking another chair that faced her. “So, what can I do for you?”
There was that smile again. Damn, it was a good one. Fortunately, her sister had inoculated me to it pretty well. “I wanted to chat about Janice, your niece.”