Rebecca Summers enjoys pleasing herself with the curtains open. When a mysterious stranger calls to tell her that he is watching, fantasy becomes reality as she begins to perform for him. Following his instructions over the phone while he watches from afar, she finds herself craving more.
Oliver Durant has always been drawn to humans to exert the dominance and control his kind needs to feel alive. While secretly observing her and calling nightly, he can’t seem to get enough of Rebecca, whom he refers to as butterfly. His urges with her are stronger than the need to dominate, as he is driven to possess her in every way.
Both of their worlds are turned upside down when they finally meet and she agrees to enter into a Dominant/submissive relationship with her Midnight Caller.
Midnight Caller is an unusual mix of a sci-fi/paranormal romance with some pretty heavy BDSM erotic romance. N.J. Cole does a good job at mixing the two into a clever story that has plenty of kinks and some horny aliens.
The hero in Midnight Caller is Oliver he is another species, Bocaj, that looks human but is really an alien race that migrated here after the loss of their own planet. His first glimpse of our heroine Rebecca is when she leaves her curtains open during some self love and he watches from across the street.
Once Oliver decides to pursue Rebecca, whom he calls Butterfly, as his next submissive he watches her almost 24/7, he manages to arrange that he works with her and of course he watches her in her apartment across the street. Rebecca has no idea that the good looking Oliver at work is really her Sir because every time they are together she is blindfolded first.
The story is a good one with unique challenges to the relationship and friends who provide advice as well as comic relief on occasion. This also has more sex per chapter than any other book I have read. Lots of bondage, spanking, use of toys and several hot interludes at work.
Looking for something to make your summer even hotter this one is for you.
Excerpt:
There I was, nearly twenty-four hours after the mysterious phone call, lying in bed with my favorite toy at my fingertips. I masturbated almost every night. Though I didn't always pleasure myself in the same way or use the same toy, I usually did it in my bed with my curtains wide open. I guess you could say I’m a bit of an exhibitionist. I lived on the fourteenth floor of a large apartment building where the western wall was entirely made of glass. Now, I'm not crazy. Though I liked to fuck with the curtains wide open, I kept my lights off. I could see out, but no one could see in. It was erotic, yet safe.
The first time it happened was an accident, really. I’d been sitting in the living room reading a romantic novel, and my hand slipped up into my shirt. My fingers lazily played with my nipple, rubbing and gently tugging while I read. I’m not sure how long I was like that, but when I looked up, it had grown dark outside and I realized that anyone could see right into my apartment since I had the lights on.
I pulled my hand quickly from my top and glanced around nervously to see if any of the people in the apartment building across the street had seen me. As I scanned the apartments, I saw a man quickly turn and look away. There was an obvious bulge in his sleep pants.
I should have been upset, mortified even, but instead, I felt wetness gather between my legs. I ran to the shower to wash away my shameful response, but ended up pleasuring myself under the scalding water, imagining him masturbating while watching me.
For weeks after that, I’d imagine different guys watching me finger fuck myself while I was in the shower. I imagined being a stripper at a club where men would get aroused by my dancing. Hell, I even imagined being in one of those peep show rooms I had read about, where women have sex and men pay to keep the curtain open. I imagined it all.
Yet imagining wasn’t enough, and though I didn’t have the courage to actually do it, I compromised by masturbating with the curtains open and the lights off. I knew in theory that people couldn’t see me, but I could see them, and that was hot.
I’d been doing it for over a year now, and I loved it each and every time. That guy I’d seen watching me the first time had moved out a while back, but it didn’t matter; it was the idea that someone—a complete stranger—could be watching me that got me off.
As I lay there thinking about all the people in the apartments across the boulevard from mine, I let my hand slip up inside my top. What if the call last night hadn’t been a wrong number? My nipple got hard beneath my fingertips at the mere thought. What if there had been a man actually watching me? I gave my sensitive skin a gentle tug. What if he was watching me now? I tugged harder, moaning in pleasure.
It had been over two years since I'd had a boyfriend, and at that time, I had no idea what I liked in bed.
Since then, I'd learned a lot about what I liked from pleasuring myself. One thing that I seemed to love was a bit of pain with my pleasure.
My other hand moved lower and slipped in between my slick folds. I groaned in pleasure. I wasn't surprised that my fingers found my clit slightly swollen, or that within a minute, it was throbbing. Like I said, I know what I like, and imagining this man, my midnight caller, watching me was definitely helping.
My fingers picked up the pace, and the gentle rubbing of my clit turned to rapid flicking and finally to rough tugging of the over sensitive bud. I grabbed for my toy and clicked it ‘on’. Without playing around, I thrust it into my dripping pussy. I began pounding it into myself, causing my back to arch and a light perspiration to cover my skin. I felt my climax start to build, and I slowed my pace to drag it out a bit longer. After a few more torturous minutes, I fell over the edge.
I lay there panting with a cheesy grin on my face, enjoying the post orgasmic high. Lazily, I glanced over at the phone. See, nothing to worry about. Just as the thought popped into my head, the phone began to ring.
I considered not picking it up, but I'm not a coward. I took a deep breath, slowly picked up the receiver and brought it to my ear.
"That was beautiful, butterfly."
About the Author:
NJ Cole is a witty, mid-western girl with a kinky side. She works by day and writes by night, all while being a mother to her wonderful boys and serving her Sir. Unlike many of today’s authors, she chooses to write in first person, allowing the readers to experience life through the eyes of the unique characters that live in her head. Her love of those characters and respect for their stories come through loud and clear in her writing. With over two million reads of her online work in the past six months, NJ Cole is clearly an up and coming author.
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