Friday, 26 September 2014


Yes, I'm feeling seriously frustrated... but not sexually frustrated. 

First, I had hoped to have my latest story out by now but I'm giving it a wholesale revision and it looks like it may come out as two separate books - maybe a trilogy.  When I first started writing it, I'd inserted a series of flashbacks to some earlier situations to help explain the story.  When I discussed this with my editor, we decided that I should abandon that idea and rewrite the story from the beginning and follow it through on a standard time-line.  It's like throwing a book in the fire and starting all over again.  But I know it was the right decision - even though it's going to delay publication of the finished works.

Second, I entertained some of my in-laws a couple months back.  They created such havoc in my mind while they were guests in our house that my Muse upped and fled.  When I finally persuaded our house-guests they should be thinking about returning home - their cat would be missing them - they finally took the hint.  But it took several days before Muse returned and I started writing again.  THEN - at the instigation of my erstwhile house-guests - another bunch of relations decided to invite themselves round, as they'd heard I'd given the first group such a great time while they were here.  Needless to say, Muse went up to the roof and stayed there.   My husband and I now have the house to ourselves once more, and I am gradually trying to coax Muse back down again with bars of chocolate.

But all is not doom and gloom.  During one of her brief visits recently, Muse left me with the scenario for another story in the Medieval Nuns' series - but I still have to do a great deal of plotting before I can start writing.  Of all the stories I've written recently (the last three years, say) I think I've enjoyed writing about the Nuns more than any other characters.  And the stories are more popular with my regular readership than I could have dreamed when I wrote the opening chapters of the first one.  Just when I thought the latest one I'd written was going to be the last....

That's all for now... watch out for my next title when it hits the shelves!

Best to you all,

email: cpw (at) restroom (dot) net

Wednesday, 25 June 2014

Waterlines 17 is here!

Hello again!

I hadn't expected to be writing here again so soon, but I am pleased to announce that Waterlines 17 has been published by Amazon KDP and Smashwords (for Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, et al).  The cover is a little provocative because it depicts a well-dressed woman cleaning the urinals in a men's restroom, and I suspect this unusual scene may have been the reason for the initial delay in publication with with Amazon - one can imagine a hastily-convened committee meeting at Amazon HQ to determine whether the picture breaks any "house" rules.  Waterlines 17 contains three short stories:

A Sprained Ankle :  When you've injured yourself and you can't do things that you've taken for granted for so long, it's time to get inventive....

Paintball War : Sophie, a college teacher, allows her class to go on the rampage in the woods in a paintball war. When they continue their rampage in the men's restroom, she's left clearing up the mess. But there's a silver lining to this cloud....

Subterfuge : What do you do when you're on a train, the toilet's out of action, and you want to "go" when there's no chance of any privacy?


     When her duties were done, Sophie walked back towards the common room to pick up her bags, thinking about the long holiday that awaited her.
     “Sophie!” It was Gerry calling, from a few feet behind her.
     She turned round and saw him scurrying urgently towards her.
     “A few of the Second Year students have been having fun and games in the men’s restroom upstairs. There’s paintball graffiti all over the walls. Remember our deal yesterday? No mess in the college buildings, otherwise they’d have to clear it up afterwards. Well, they’ve gone. So you’ll have to play janitor yourself. And you’ll need to do it now, before you go home today.” He walked off, allowing no time to protest.
     “But Jason is equally at fault. He should be doing it too.”
     “He’s gone.” He called, without looking back.
     Shit! she said to herself, and went upstairs to the men’s restroom.

I hope you enjoy the stories.  Subterfuge is based on an out-take I saw of a European movie some years ago.  No, I don't remember the name of the movie or which country produced it.  I couldn't understand the language spoken, so I'm confident it wasn't French or German.  If I hadn't seen this scene myself, I'd have considered the concept just a little far-fetched.  But, hey, that's what erotic fantasies are all about, don't you think?

All the best


email: cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter: @RachelCray1

Tuesday, 24 June 2014

Return to the Poor Nuns

Hello again!

Return to the Poor Nuns  has just been published - it's the third in the "Medieval Dickgirl" series, following on from A Poor Nun's Endowment and The Poor Nuns in Revolt.  I do hope you enjoy it.

Here's an outline:

Seeking sanctuary for her daughter Agnes, Dame Anna presents her to Prior Michael at the abbey and, whilst there, Agnes writes more to the tale of Mary and the Poor Nuns started by Anna and continued by Michael.  In Agnes' contribution to the tale, the evil Benedicta pleads with Mary to help her return to the Poor Nuns.  Unsure whether she is truly contrite after her imprisonment by the bishop's chancellor, Mary advises the prioress to keep her in a secure environment... just in case.  Can Benedicta be trusted?  There is a new priest overseeing the spiritual welfare of the nuns and, still having to come to terms with his vow of chastity, he has his own agenda.  And some of the nuns still crave some moments of lust with Mary's unique endowment.  How can she resolve the situation before her husband comes to take her home?


          Clare grinned sheepishly. “Shall we go for a walk together? The room where Benedicta had you confined has been repainted; it is of course the cell where she will stay when she is appointed Anchoress, and is quite private. Would you like me to show it to you? We won’t be disturbed.” 
          “Yes. I’d like that.”
           They left her chamber and walked together into the cloisters, through an isolated doorway that led to a flight of steps; at the top was the door to the private room that would be home to Benedicta once she was readmitted to the community. It had been home to Mary when she had first arrived here, a sanctuary where Benedicta had her shut away from the world so that she could  indulge her own passions with her, unseen by anyone else. Clare unlocked the door and invited Mary to enter; the place smelt so much fresher now, and a new bed had been placed in the corner. 
           Clare pulled off her habit over her head and, standing naked in front of Mary, she took her hand and drew her silently across the room; with her back to the wall, she reached forward and put her hand up Mary’s gown to feel for the thing she craved to have inside her.


I hope to have Waterlines 17 published very soon.  Then I'll be busy with a couple of romance titles (one contemporary, one Regency) that I have in the back of my mind which will be going out under my alter-ago, Rachel Cray.  In the meantime, I'll be hoping that my Muse will deliver some more erotic stories for me to tell in the C.P. Waterman franchise.

All the best!


email : cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter: @RachelCray1

Tuesday, 20 May 2014

Waterlines 16 is out!

Hi, readers!

I'm pleased to announce the publication of Waterlines 16 on Amazon Kindle.  The Smashwords edition (for use with Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and others) will be available later today.

The ebook contains three short stories containing intimate fun of M/F couples who conduct experiments in three different positions:
Side-by-Side (4,100 words)
Front-to-Back (3,000 words)
Back-to-Back (3,200 words)

Warning: these three stories are for over-18s only and contain elements which some people may find offensive. If you aren't interested in watersports (golden showers), anal or oral sex - or aren't remotely curious - then please don't buy or read this book.


Every Friday night, if we didn’t have to stay late at the office for an emergency, most of us went round to a local bar to let our hair down for two or three hours.  It was a routine that we looked forward to; the firm hired a room so that we had a certain amount of privacy, and we treated it like an extension to our business environment: what was said in there stayed there.
Gina had only been with us for a few weeks and I didn’t really have the chance to get acquainted with her.  It would be ungracious of me to describe her as a plain young woman, but she had no features that one might consider to be particularly attractive.  There was a rumor in circulation that she hadn’t had much luck with men; this could have been invented by one or more of her co-workers, who were known for their lack of charity.  But, when I spoke to her that evening, she exuded a warm personality and was capable of conversing across a wide range of subjects.  I must confess that I took up much of her time at the bar, but most of the others were talking of inconsequential work-related issues.
Gradually everyone peeled away and, after some time, we found ourselves the only customers left in our room.  “I’m in no hurry to get away.  How about you?”
“No.  I have no immediate plans.”
We got to talking about secrets – I can’t remember what led us into that subject – and the conversation soon drifted on to secret sexual fantasies.  The drink had begun to take its effect and, although we were relative strangers, we had lost all inhibition with our talk now.
“Of course I have some,” she laughed.  “Well, at least one.  But I’m not going to reveal that to you here.  We hardly know each other.  How about you?” 
“Yes.  I have something in mind that I’d like to do.  But when I’ve suggested it to girls I’ve been with, they cringe and call me a pervert.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not telling you.  You’ll back away and call me a pervert too.  Just when we’ve started to get to know each other.”
“Then we shall never know.  Which is a bit of a shame, don’t you think?”
“Do I detect a hidden desire on your part to reveal your secret to me?”
“Not here.  And only if you tell me yours too.”
“If you’re too embarrassed to tell me, let’s get a couple of sheets of paper, write them down and show each other.”
“Mine is too complicated to describe.”
“Then draw me a diagram.  I like diagrams.”
“It would be pornographic!” she laughed.
I felt a stirring in my loins.  I had to stick around with this girl.  “Can’t you give me a clue?”
“Watersports,” she whispered.  “And I don’t mean water-skiing.”
I nodded and smiled.  “That’s a coincidence.  My little secret can be placed in the same category.”
We smiled at each other, each wondering who would take the next step.  She grinned at me, and crossed her legs.  She pulled up her skirt as she did so, making sure I saw the top of her stocking on her thigh.
I spoke.  “I think we’ve whetted each other’s appetites, don’t you?”
“Whetted?  Was that a pun?”
“I’m ready to reveal my secret, if you are yours.”
“O.K., then.  But not here.  Your place or mine?”
“I have no privacy at my apartment right now.  My brother is staying over.”
“It’ll have to be my place, then.  I don’t live too far from here.”
“It’s getting late, and it’s started to rain.  I’ll call a cab.”


I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I enjoyed writing them.  I shall be going on vacation soon but shall be starting another long story as soon as I get back.



email : cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter: @RachelCray1

Monday, 12 May 2014

Paying the Rent

Hello again!

I'm in the middle of writing some short stories for inclusion in Waterlines 16.  I started one called Paying the Rent; it showed promise but, as I continued writing, it became obvious to me that this was going to be a great deal longer than the usual story that goes into the Waterlines series.  And I had no way of breaking it up into a serial with two or three parts.

I could have shelved the story and found something else to put in the Waterlines edition.  I liked the story, and wanted to carry on with it, while I still had my Muse breathing down my neck.  So here it is.  But please rest assured that Waterlines 16 will be out as soon as I can finish it and get it passed by my editor.

And now here are some details for Paying the Rent:

     Adults Only. Warning: this story contains elements which some people may find offensive. If you aren't interested in golden showers or watersports, or aren't curious about the fetish, don't buy or read this book.
     Susie lives with Gerry - a control freak - but takes a break to attend a summer-school where she meets Ben, a lawyer. At the end of course party, she gets drunk and ends up in bed with Ben. When she gets home and finds that Gerry already knows what happened, he makes life hell for her. When finds a new place to live, but can't pay the rent, her new landlord has a solution.... What exactly has he in mind? (12,000 words.)


     “I have a problem. You might as well know: my former boyfriend has emptied my bank account. I’m trying to get it back, but it’s going to take time.”
     “And in the meantime… you have nothing to fall back on? Nothing worth selling?”
     “No. And unless I find something pretty soon, I won’t be able to afford to pay you next month’s rent.”
     “Thanks for your honesty. I appreciate that. And I hope you can get your money back quickly. But you have to see things from my point of view. You’re a new tenant, and as far as I’m concerned you’re still on trial here. We hardly know each other, but if you’d been here for six months, let’s say, I’d know you a lot better and I’d probably feel I could trust you. If you can’t pay me when the rent is due, you’ll have to leave.”
     I hadn’t expected this reaction. I was close to tears. “But I have nowhere else to go. Can you help me? Please?” I felt as if I was begging.
     “I have a line of tenants waiting for my rooms. I allowed you to jump your turn as a personal favour to Marina, that’s all. You have to consider yourself lucky to have got this room in the first place.”
     “And Marina’s done a lot for me already, and I don’t want to pester her for any more help.”
     He thought quickly. “Maybe there’s something else. Can we go in your room for a minute or two?”
     I unlocked the door and showed him in. He sat on a chair at the table.
     “I’ve never varied arrangements for rent with a tenant before, but maybe I could be flexible in this case, provided you’re prepared to be flexible too.”
     “Honestly, Scott, I’m desperate. I’d be prepared to consider anything.”
     “I could take a month’s rent in another form.”
     I thought I could see where this was going. I remembered my grandmother telling me she once had a neighbour who had a private arrangement with her landlord.
     “Over the next month, you’d have to sleep with me – here in this room – as often as I choose, on the nights that I choose. There’s room in your bed for both of us. I’m not a violent man, and I’d never harm you. I’d never seek to humiliate you; this is a straightforward business transaction, remember. I wouldn’t make too many demands, but it’s fair to warn you that I do have a few strange fetishes and you’d be expected to satisfy me in that direction too.”
     “Fetishes? What fetishes?”
     “We could call them small services. Things that you would do naturally anyway. Nothing for you to worry about. That’s the deal. Yes or no? If you can’t bring yourself to consider it, you will have to vacate the premises by the end of this week.”
     I sighed and looked at him. He seemed a reasonable guy, I supposed. At least he wasn’t a vicious brute like Gerry. I’d have to steel myself; in the dark nights I could pretend that I had Ben, that adorable lawyer from summer-school, inside me.
     “I don’t want to pressure you, but I have to know now. As I said, I have clients waiting in line for this room if you don’t feel –” 
     “O.K. I agree. Provided it’s only for the month.”


And now I have to get back to Waterlines 16...


email : cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter:  @RachelCray1

Saturday, 3 May 2014

The Master of Glastonbury has arrived

Hello again! 

At last I'm pleased to announce the publication of The Master of Glastonbury.  Thoughts about this story have been lurking on my radar since mid-January, and I started writing it at the beginning of March; other projects intervened (notably Waterlines 15) and I've been working hard at it over the last month, with several final retouches to the text.  I'm relieved it's finally complete!

Here are the details, with an extract to whet your appetite:

Medieval erotica: A story associated with The Poor Nuns series.
Agnes, a gifted artist, dresses as a man to achieve her ambition to become a master painter in great church buildings; her sexual frustrations lead her to create private works of erotic art for private commissions.  Following a narrow escape from a sexual assault one night, she needs somewhere to hide and is permitted to wear a monk’s habit whilst continuing to work in a remote nunnery, a safe haven.  But she craves to become accepted as a woman once more; to be married and raise a family.  Can she ever rid herself of her past life?


     Agnes spent much of her spare time the next day with Master Edward’s book of sketches, studying the pictures of David - dancing provocatively half-naked before the Ark - and of Judith with Holofernes.  Deciding finally on Judith as her subject, she would have her masturbating the drunken Holofernes while she had her knife poised at his neck. This would give her the most sexual pleasure; she could work this theme with a passion, with the kind of driving fury she had seen others apply in their work here when they were totally absorbed. She identified the empty space she would use for her sketch, and would bide her time when she could be left alone to fulfil her growing infatuation.
     The evening came; it was still early enough for her to have all the light she needed, although she would have to work fast. As was her custom, she returned the book to Master Edward without raising any suspicion as to her intentions; then, rather than walking out of the church, she made for the chapel containing the blank wall.
     First, she sketched the head and sinewy body of the male figure, the Assyrian general Holofernes; bearded and handsome, like the lord of the manor who had released her into the care of Master Edward, he rested with his eyes shut, drunk with wine and desire for the young Jewish widow who held him in her arms. Then she began delineating Judith, her breasts cascading out of her loose upper garment, her legs apart provocatively. One arm reached up, holding the general’s sword at his neck, while the other hand went down to caress his erect penis. She wondered whether the original Judith had actually managed to induce her adversary to climax in the moment of his death; she felt a pounding in her crotch as she viewed the completed work. It was important for her to capture the whole scene in her mind for, one day, she would recreate this picture on a wall somewhere for an important commission, painted to perfection and admired by everyone who saw it.
     When she had committed everything to memory, she knew it was time to wash it away. For it must not be seen by anyone; if any of the priests or monks here saw her at work on this - with its erotic connotations - she would be severely punished. It was unseemly for a woman to paint or draw a man’s genitals, particularly a single woman. She would be branded a whore and would be consigned to a brothel at a local tavern to work.
     On the verge of panic, she reached for a rag and plunged it in a pail of water that she had standing ready. There were voices outside in the nave, and they were getting louder. Edging against the doorway, she saw three monks approaching. She would have to stop erasing her work and see to her own survival. Then a voice called out in the distance. The monks turned, and she heard a discussion begin. She looked round the chapel, and saw a table-tomb standing in one corner; it stood only two feet high, and probably contained the remains of a former abbot. There was just enough room for her to hide behind it if the monks came through the doorway.
     Racing over to her hiding place, she squatted behind it and waited to see if the men entered the chapel. She heard footsteps, and looked round the end of the tomb. Only one of the monks had entered, and he was looking at her work. She heard him gasp, and watched as he shuffled his hands round his robe. Although his body hid his actions, he seemed to be holding something in front of him, although his gaze was fixed on her picture. His elbow moved slowly, almost rhythmically, and she realised that he was starting to masturbate. He had been sexually excited by the image she had created out of her own imagination.
     This, to her, was the ultimate accolade; she had inspired a man - through her work - to feel the need to express seed out of his body. And this recognition made her feel sexually excited. If he could make love to himself at the sight of her accomplishment, then so could she. As she began fingering herself, she noticed the monk’s strokes were becoming faster. And her own crotch was soaked with the juices of her pleasure. The monk was interrupted by a call from someone outside, and he left with his pleasure unfinished.  She would have to hold her breath when she climaxed. But, as that moment approached, she heard him depart quickly and she could relax, allowing her orgasm its full and unconditional gratification.
     No sounds were heard now, but she considered it unsafe to remain. Confident that she could escape unnoticed, she got up and made straight for the doorway into the nave, ignoring her sketch on the wall. Within minutes, she was back at her lodgings.
     “Where were you after dinner?” asked Joan when they climbed in bed.
     “I went for a walk. It was a pleasant evening,” she replied.
     “More like she’s found a man to fill her hole,” laughed one of the sisters. “There’s a curious glow about her face. Can you see?”
     “Enough! I’ll tell your father about your filthy mind,” she hissed, and rolled over, hiding her head under the blanket.


     Just for the record, there are plenty of instances of women doing masquerading as men - especially during the First World War (1914-1918) - when women went to fight and, hiding their gender, used specially-made wooden pipes to assist stand-up urination when standing next to the men when relieving themselves.  We only know of those occasions when the women were killed or injured in battle and they were discovered to be female.  How many other women went to war and returned home unscathed, having successfully hidden their secret?

     I hope you get as much enjoyment out of reading this story as I did writing it.  I shall be making tentative steps to write the next in this series - Return to the Poor Nuns - very soon.  It depends on what the Muse delivers into my mind first; I have a nice story already written for Waterlines 16, and am waiting to conceive another two tales to complement it.

     Please feel free to write to me at any time - I'm always interested in feedback and, if you're worried about privacy, I can assure you that your identity will never be disclosed to anyone.



cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter: @RachelCray1

Wednesday, 16 April 2014

The Poor Nuns series

Right now I'm putting the final revisions to my latest work, The Master of Glastonbury, which is a story associated with The Poor Nuns series.  It occurred to me that I ought to write something here to clarify a couple of points, just in case there's any confusion about the order you should read the books, since I have not written them in a strict sequence.

Quite honestly, these stories can be read in any order.  In fact, when I began the first one (Dating a Dickgirl), set a few years in the future, I wasn't sure whether it would be popular enough to justify creating a series; I alluded to a family legend in that story and, when I realised a chain of books in this theme (futa, or woman with a penis - coupled with a bunch of horny nuns) would "have wheels", I wrote a story round the family legend (Dickgirl in the Dungeon); it turned out that the legend was based on a fairy story set a century earlier, so I wrote that (A Poor Nun's Endowment).  I guess that means we're talking here about writing a prequel to a prequel.

But that's where we stop going backwards.  Now all the stories will be moving forward, a step at a time.  If you haven't read any of these yet, you might derive the most pleasure from them if you read them in the following order.  But it's not compulsory!

1.  A Poor Nun's Endowment (narrated by the nun, Dame Anna, with the prologue and epilogue by Michael, her pupil)
2.  The Poor Nuns in Revolt (narrated by Michael)
3.  The Master of Glastonbury (narrated by Michael) - to be published soon.
4.  Return of the Poor Nuns (narrated by Agnes, Anna's daughter, with the prologue and epilogue by Abbot Michael) - I'm just about to start the first draft.
5.  [another story to come which will cover Agnes' sexual relationship with someone - no working title yet].
6.  Dickgirl in the Dungeon (Abbot Michael's solution to a family succession problem)
7.  Dating a Dickgirl (set far in the future - with an idea sparked off from an old family tradition about Abbot Michael, a distant ancestor)

I must tell you that The Master of Glastonbury is longer than the others in this series - almost twice as long - which has held up the schedule for writing my other stories.  I hadn't planned this - I have to blame my Muse for coming up with extra ideas as I've been busy at the laptop.
  Finally, I would mention here that I'm considering rewriting Dickgirl in the Dungeon.  The words will all be the same but (to paraphrase an old gag from Morecambe and Wise) not necessarily in the same order as the old version.  I believe I put too many flashbacks into the narrative, which might confuse the reader - so I may put everything back in a linear fashion, starting at the beginning and finishing the story at the end.  If any reader out there has a comment to make about this idea, I'd be very pleased to hear from you.

Until next time,

Best wishes,


email : cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter : @RachelCray1

Tuesday, 8 April 2014

At last... Waterlines 15 is out!

My sincere apologies to everyone about the delay in production of Waterlines 15.  It isn't due to laziness on my part, I assure you - I just have so many stories that I wanted to complete, and I was waiting for the Muse to descend to give me a hand.  Not only that, but I had to make a few changes in my strategy... for example, In Small, Intimate Rooms was originally intended to be a very short story that I could include in Waterlines 15 but, whilst writing it, the characters took on a life of their own and it turned out to be longer than I'd expected - so I had it published separately back in January this year as a stand-alone ebook.  And I'm close to finishing a sequel to The Poor Nuns in Revolt - but I'm still researching some details... I want to ensure historical accuracy to give the story some credibility.

And apart from that... I have two stories that I'm working on in my other personal, Rachel Cray - they're in a new series - I've been working on them both for eighteen months and I'm still changing my mind about one of the main characters.

Anyway, let's get back to talking about Waterlines 15:

Warning: these two stories are for over-18s only and contain elements which some people may find offensive. If you aren't interested in watersports (golden showers) or oral sex, or aren't remotely curious, then please don't buy or read this book.

When We Were Lovers (5,200 words)

Cheryl and Alan were once lovers, but split up after a six-month intense relationship.  After an erotic dream, she realises how much she misses him.  But when she finally tracks him down, hoping to pick up the threads of their affair, she’s in for a nasty shock.  Nothing ever stays the same.  Can anything good come out of her disappointment?

Having to Share (8,500 words)

Jessica and Ken work together; when the firm moves to new premises, there's no room for them and they have to stay behind until space is available.  There's only one toilet available that they have to share - and intimate accidents are bound to happen... especially when an unexpected visitor with a voyeuristic habit looks in, and tempts Ken into a little unplanned activity.


     Shortly after the main body of staff went to work in the new building, it was Jessica’s birthday.  Anxious to make the two of us feel as if we were still part of the organization, it was arranged that everybody would go to the local bar to help her celebrate the occasion.  By two o’clock that day, all the staff returned to work in the new office block, but I stayed with her at the bar because she looked a little unsteady on her feet.  I was watching carefully to make sure that nobody put anything in any of her drinks; someone had doctored a girl’s drink the previous year with the intention of seducing her.  The company had taken a pretty dim view of the affair, and the perpetrator had been fired as soon as he confessed.
     We stayed at the bar for another thirty minutes and then I decided I’d help her stagger back to the office and get her to sober up.  I fixed her a black coffee and she sat down in an easy chair with her legs curled round to make herself comfortable.  I returned to my desk to work, answering the phone when necessary, and soon got back into my stride.  I turned round to check Jessica was all right; she was fast asleep.
     After a while my bladder felt full, so I felt the need to go to the bathroom.  I stood at the toilet bowl in one of the cubicles, unzipped myself and began to let go.  Normally I’d have shut the door behind me but, since Jessica was asleep, I didn’t think I’d be disturbed.
     “Hello, big boy!”  It was Jessica.  My pee flow stopped automatically, and I turned round and smiled at her looking round my shoulder; as I moved, I guess she would have snatched a quick profile view of my dick. I don’t know whether she saw anything, but her face certainly looked down in that direction.
     “It’s O.K. I’ve nearly finished,” I said.
     “I thought you were in here,” she giggled.  “I have a confession to make, Ken. I’m horny.”
     “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
     “Maybe.  But I’m horny.  Is there anything you can do to please a girl?”

Wednesday, 12 February 2014

Caught in the Act !

Hello again!
My latest title - Caught in the Act! - has been published on Kindle and Smashwords.  I hope you like it - the story is based on three events which actually happened to people with whom I have worked over the years.  I took the three threads and spun them into one single narrative.

Here's the outline:

Sally is promoted and moved to a new job; she finds a key member of her staff has a private habit and has alienated the rest of her team to the extent that its whole future is in doubt.  Anxious to make her mark in the office, she attempts to impose her own controversial solution to the problem... sometimes calling her own sanity into question.  Can she resolve the situation - and create a successful team from the remnant she has inherited?

And here's a specimen extract to whet your appetite:

At the end of one particularly exhausting day during her final period in her current job, she was relieved when it was time to get to bed.  She lived alone in her apartment, and had become used to her routine; she hoped that the new job wouldn’t interfere with the way of life that she had established over the years.  Sleep came easily to her that night but she was visited by an unusual dream. 

She was in the bar where she had been celebrating with her friends shortly after the news of her promotion had been announced.  This time, she was sitting in the chair that had been occupied by the young guy who had stared at her with such passion as he played with himself.  And the guy was back there in the dream, drinking at the table she had used; she looked down at his lap, and noticed he had his cock out again.  It was hanging limp, waiting to be entertained.

Responding to the challenge, she pulled up her skirt and made sure he could see the tops of her stockings, with the fastenings of her suspenders or garters.  He was electrified.  His hand flew to his crotch and his fingers curled round his cock.  She decided to go further, and pulled her panties aside to show him her pussy.  He began pumping hard at his dick.  Licking her lips to entice him further, she allowed her hand to wander down to her clit, parting her labia and showing him her vagina.

His face had gone red with pleasure, his eyes concentrating on her stockings, her thighs and her genitalia.  It can’t be long now, she thought.  He’ll have to come soon.

She focused her attention on the tiny pee-hole at the end of his dick head, willing his semen to spill out on to the carpet.

But, for all the energy he was putting into the exercise, his climax wouldn’t arrive.  Disappointed, but eager to help, she got out of her chair and knelt down under his table, positioning herself between his feet.  Without a word, she reached forward and put his warm erection in her mouth, moving it round gently with her tongue.

With her lips locked round his shaft, she groaned in an effort to prompt him to share his pleasure with her.  He remained silent; she moaned louder.

She jolted in her bed, and woke up.  She had been moaning in her sleep, and the sound had quickly returned her to the real world.  Her crotch was wet from her dream.

Looking at her alarm clock, she noticed it was only three o’clock.  She turned over and willed herself back to the bar, hoping to resume her ardour with this stranger.  But the scene wouldn’t return, and she felt frustrated; she couldn’t get back to sleep while she was in this state.
Grabbing her pillow, she tucked it between her legs and thrust her pelvis against it; she squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of the guy in the chair who was jerking himself off as the edge of the pillow brushed roughly against her clit.  In less than a minute she felt overcome with an intense rapture that flooded through her, bringing her infatuation to its conclusion.


I hope you enjoy it!  I'm busy preparing stories for inclusion in the next edition of Waterlines (number 15).  Watch this space for more news.

Keep smiling!

email: cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter: @RachelCray1

Sunday, 9 February 2014

The Look-out

The Look-out was published on Amazon Kindle yesterday.  It’s one of two stories I’ve written recently which are centered round sex in the office - I hope you like reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it

Here are the details:

Adults Only.  Warning: this story is for over-18s only and contains elements which some people may find offensive. If you aren't interested in golden showers or watersports, or aren't curious about the fetish, don't buy or read this book.

Pauline meets Jim at the annual company dance; after a little flirting they become horny and go to a derelict warehouse for some exploratory intimacy. Worried about getting caught by people wandering into the abandoned site, she asks Cosima - a co-worker - to come with them and stand as look-out while she has sex with Jim.  Cosima gets jealous and wants a slice of the action for herself, but Pauline is worried that she might steal Jim from her.  What hold does Cosima have on Jim?  And what happens when she starts to behave strangely, threatening to wreck the relationship between Pauline and Jim?  Is there any hope for their future together?  (10,000 words)


“Yes, I’ve heard about her job offer,” Andrew said when Pauline phoned him that evening.  “And I’ll be glad to have her off my back.”

“She hasn’t made up her mind to go yet.  When I asked her about it, she said that she wasn’t sure.  Apparently she’s met a guy and doesn’t want to leave him.”

“Well, this is news.  Then she won’t be pestering me again, whether she stays or goes.  This calls for a celebration, Pauline.”

“I thought for a minute that the guy she met might have been you.  She wouldn’t tell me his name.”

“No.  You can breathe easy there.  It’s not me.  And I would never lie to you, Pauline.  Can you hold on a minute?  I can hear the door bell.  It’s getting late, and I don’t know who’s calling at this time.  I’ll just check the security monitor….  What the hell?  It’s Cosima, standing on my doorstep.  Looks like she’s carrying a bottle of wine.  This is too much….”

“Has she ever done this before?” Pauline asked.

“She’s badgered me on the phone a few times, but I’ve usually hung up politely.  She’s never turned up on my doorstep before.  I’m not going to answer the door.”

“She knows you’re in there.”

“What do I tell her that’s going to make her go away?”

“Tell her you’re entertaining me.  I know it’s a lie.  But in a way you are entertaining me, over the phone.  Hang up, answer the door, and ring me straight back when she’s gone.”

Pauline put down her phone and waited for him to call.  After two minutes, she was still waiting.  Relax, she told herself.  Cosima’s just being difficult.  She switched on the television to watch the news broadcast.  After a while, she looked at her wristwatch; she reckoned that over five minutes had elapsed since she’d spoken to him.  She wanted to ring him back, to find out what had happened.  But, she reasoned, she would be no better than Cosima, who had pestered him so many times on the phone; he might think she, too, was being demanding or controlling.  She decided to go to bed.

As soon as she’d switched out the bedroom light and tried to get to sleep, she felt more awake than ever.  She couldn’t spend the night with this uncertainty racing through her mind; she got up, made herself another drink, and began to watch a late-night movie on television.  But the action couldn’t drag her mind away from Cosima, standing on Andrew’s doorstep with her bottle of wine.  After an hour - by which time she had to admit that she had yawned so many times and had lost interest in the movie - she decided to get back to bed.  And, within twenty minutes, she was sound asleep.

She had a dream.  She was back at the firm’s annual dance, and had stepped out with Andrew for a little intimacy; they returned to the deserted warehouse once more, where Cosima was waiting for them.

“I need to pee,” Cosima smiled.  “Do you want to watch me, Andrew?  I know how much you like to watch.”


The other story - Caught in the Act! - will be published in the next day or two.  Details will be available just as soon as it’s ready.

All the best!


twitter: @RachelCray1


Thursday, 16 January 2014

Now Available: The Poor Nuns in Revolt

Hello again!

My latest story, The Poor Nuns in Revolt - a sequel to A Poor Nun's Endowment - has just been published on Amazon Kindle.  It will be available on Smashwords in a few days' time, and on Apple, Barnes & Noble Nook, and Kobo in a couple of weeks from now.

Here are some details to whet your appetite:

After Mary and David have made themselves at home in the deserted house they came across in A Poor Nun's Endowment, Mary is visited by an old friend from the priory.  All is not well with the community, after the visit of the Great Pestilence (the Black Death); the evil Benedicta has seized control and is now Mother Prioress.  Mary agrees to return to the priory for a week to see if she can influence Benedicta into easing the poor nuns into a gentler Rule.  But she hasn't reckoned for the priest, who has some deviant sexual habits and attempts to blackmail Mary into performing sexual acts to gratify his cravings once he discovers the unique endowment in her anatomy.  What strange hold does he have on Benedicta?  What can Mary achieve to bring about a happier way of life for the good nuns?

And here's a SAMPLE EXTRACT:

“Are you coming with us to dinner, Philomena?” Sister Angela asked her as they filed out of the church.
“Soon, sister.  And please call me Mary now.  I love you all, but I am not a member of your community.”
“Are leaving us again so soon?”
“No.  I’m staying a little longer.  I have a few private things I need to do before I depart.”
The nuns interpreted ‘private things’ to mean spiritual matters and didn’t care to invade her privacy. 
She was just about to enter the refectory when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  Turning round, she saw it was Clare; she looked solemn.
“There’s talk of your going away,” she said.  “I couldn’t bear it.  Not now.  We were so happy when you came back to us.” Clare led her a few steps past the refectory door so they could have privacy.
“I promised you I’d stay a week, dear Sister Clare.  I have my own man waiting for me at home, and a lot of tasks to be done on our land.”
“I know.  But, before we go to dinner, may I hold you?  May I hold your cock, just for a few moments?  It’s so comforting.  And you can put it inside me, if you like.  Just like you did last night.” There’s a dark recess along the cloister where we won’t be seen.”
“Not now.  It’s too risky.”
“When, then?”
Mary remembered that, now that the priest had gone, his bed in the vestry would be available.  “We can go in the church vestry tonight.”
“But the last time I came to see you, when the others had left, that old priest came and threw me out.”
“Don’t worry.  He won’t be there.”
“After Compline prayers?”
“Yes.  But not for too long.”
They went to the refectory for dinner and, afterwards, there was a short period of quiet time set aside for reflection.  Mary had decided that this would be an appropriate moment for her to call on Mother Prioress to tell her of the priest’s departure. 
But Clare detained her.  “Dear Mary, I couldn’t stop thinking about… about tonight.  I’m bursting now, and don’t think I could wait until tonight.  Couldn’t we go to the vestry now and… do what we were going to do after Compline?”
She had a soft spot for Sister Clare.  It wouldn’t do any harm, she supposed.  And then she’d go and see Benedicta about the priest.  They walked across to the church and entered the side door into the vestry.  Once inside, Clare lay down on the straw bed that they had used last night, and pulled up her habit ready for Mary to take her.


The first in this series,  A Poor Nun's Endowment, was very popular and if you enjoyed that story, I hope you'll enjoy this one too.  And, in the Epilogue, I've inserted a hint of two more stories still to come.  At the end of the book I've inserted the opening sections of other works with this theme - Dickgirl in the Dungeon and Dating a Dickgirl.

Until next time,

Best wishes,

cpw (at) restroom (dot) net

Saturday, 4 January 2014

In Small, Intimate Rooms - an erotic short story

Hello again - and a Happy New Year to everyone!

I’ve just published my latest short story - In Small, Intimate Rooms - and I do hope you enjoy it.  Here’s a quick synopsis:

On a vacation in a remote area of Thailand, John meets an East European prostitute; she tells him of her unfortunate plight, and he feels sorry for her; he returns to her village the next day to find she has disappeared with a Danish guy.   Although John meets her again briefly on a business trip in Copenhagen the following year, he wonders if they will ever see each other again and rekindle the passion he had with her in her tiny room during their first encounter... 

Adults Only.  Warning: this story is for over-18s only and contain elements which some people may find offensive. If you aren't interested in golden showers or watersports, or aren't curious about the fetish, don't buy or read this book.


Before I had a chance to turn round, thank her and depart, she moved behind me and shut the door. She pulled up her skirt, revealing black stockings and garters; like the other girls I’d seen earlier, she had no underwear. “You do want to fuck me, don’t you?” she asked. “It’s cheap for you. Special offer. And you can come back for more tomorrow.”
I was tempted. But I’d heard a lot from other guys who’d got themselves all kinds of nasty diseases from these girls and I wasn’t prepared to risk my health.
She saw my hesitation. “So you don’t want to fuck, then? There are other things we can do. You want to come between my legs, maybe?”
“All right,” I said, and pulled my pants down to my knees.
“Why not take them right off? You want to pee, but can’t. But I want to pee. Then after you’ve come, you can pee too.”
She stood with her legs astride the toilet bowl, and beckoned me to come forward.
“Hold me tight.”
I obeyed, and felt her jump forward, her thighs wrapped round mine; her cheek rubbed against mine, and I smelt cheap perfume. Her heels pushed against the back of my knees; I took the entire weight of her body.
“Hold me still. I’m going to pee now.”


I’m busy writing a sequel to A Poor Nun’s Endowment and I hope to have that out soon.  Mary returns to the priory, where all hell has broken loose, and...  No, I mustn’t write any more here and spoil your enjoyment.

Keep smiling!
My best wishes to you for 2014,


Monday, 25 November 2013

The House Sitter

Hello again!

My latest title, The House Sitter, has just been published and is available for Amazon Kindle immediately.  I've been assured that editions for Apple (I-books) and Barnes & Noble (Nook) will be ready shortly.
This is the second in the new series Strangers for a Night, and here's a brief introduction:

A guy walks into Heather's office whom she hasn't seen for fifteen years; at the end of their business meeting, she invites him to lunch at her home, where she's house-sitting for a wealthy couple currently out of the country. Over the course of the afternoon they develop a sensual connection and enjoy sex games together. But when he takes her back to his hotel room to continue their romp, the prospect of a relationship suddenly comes crashing down....
And here's a sample extract:

     We were stretched out, fully-clothed, on my bed. We had our arms round each other and began kissing again. Soon I felt his hand fumbling up my skirt; I pulled up the front and he quickly found his way into my panties. His finger had no trouble finding my bud and he started stroking me.
     “I want to go down on you,” he whispered in my ear.
     Without answering, I pulled off my hose and underwear and pushed my skirt up to my waist; I rolled over on my back and opened my thighs. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a man’s tongue down there; I braced myself and thrust my crotch repeatedly at his mouth. I wanted my climax now. I couldn’t wait any longer.
     The boy next door whom I had once fancied was now a man and he was performing one of the most intimate acts on my body. The fact that he was a business client seemed to have no relevance to the occasion. I wanted him to do this. And, when I’d come, I’d want him to do it to me again.
     I felt his finger slowly poking its way up my anus; I hadn’t expected this. I’d never had this done to me before, and it heightened the sensation. My mind drifted and began fantasizing how it might feel with his cock up there.


I'm still waiting for my Muse to deliver the next story in this series - I have other projects in the pipeline and I'm hoping to have another title out before the Festive Season.

All the best

email : cpw (at) restroom (dot) net

Wednesday, 6 November 2013

New series: Strangers for a Night. #1: Ben's Blind Date

Hello again!

If it seems a while since I had anything to report here, it's because I've been busy in my alter-ego as Rachel Cray, writing two more novellas.  And now we're back to announce the start of a new series of erotic stories which I've called Strangers for a Night.  Just to clarify things, it has a theme running through the entire sequence: sex with a stranger.  But there will be other elements included in the stories which have become my stock-in-trade in the Waterlines series.

The first book in the Strangers for a Night series is called Ben's Blind Date, and is being published by Amazon as I write this.  For the first three months of its life, it will be exclusive to Amazon; depending on demand, I may distribute it to Apple and Barnes & Noble after the contract with Amazon has run its course.

A link to the Amazon page is in the right-hand column.  Here's a description to whet your appetite:

Ben is invited to a blind date with the sister of his brother's girlfriend.  A last-minute change of plan results in Ben going out with another girl - Norma, a temporary hire from the office who is almost a stranger.  It turns out that Norma has a voracious sexual appetite, partially hidden under a cloak of low self-esteem, and she possesses a gift through which she can express her passion for the erotic.

Thinking that he may be able to bring her out of her shell, he takes her out that night to a rendezvous where she emerges from her chrysalis and asserts herself in an activity that she enjoys.  Neither of them have had a first date like this before.  But the success of the experiment backfires for Ben....


“I’ll let you into a little secret,” she said, turning towards me and handing me my mug of coffee.  “You’re only the second guy I’ve ever had over my threshold in this apartment.”
“I don’t mean to be personal, but haven’t you had many boyfriends?”
Her jolly persona evaporated, and was replaced by that of a sad, lonely soul.  “Several of them take one look at me and turn their back within ten seconds.  Those that stay... well, perhaps I try too hard.  One of them openly admitted that he couldn’t keep up with me in bed.  He found me too demanding.  When we were in the restaurant, in the alley, and then at the movies, I got all the signals that we might click together.
“But now I’ve laid all my cards on the table.  Not very ladylike, am I?  I can’t be coy.  I know what I want, and I know that it’s not often available.  So I seize it with both hands when it comes along.  Just like I’ve dragged you in here tonight.  I have to tell you that there are times when I get so desperate that I’m tempted to pay for sex.  But I haven’t gone down that route so far.”
I sipped the coffee; it was too hot to drink, so I put it on a side table.  “Norma, you are probably one of the most candid women I’ve ever met.  And I’m not put off by your... your size.”  A memory of my erotic dream flashed before me.  “In fact, I think it turns me on.”
She climbed on top of me on the armchair and rammed her tongue into my mouth.  She pulled her head back and smiled.  “You darling man.  That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”  Then she kissed me again.
I was a little uncomfortable, trapped beneath her, and attempted to adjust myself; the back of my hand accidentally brushed up her skirt and against her crotch; her panties were soaking wet.  I moved my head away, and looked up at her.
“You noticed I’m horny again.”  She grinned.
“Perhaps you ought to take them off.  You’ll feel better.”
“I think I ought to show you my bedroom.”  She climbed off and beckoned me to follow her.


That's all today.  Now to get on with #2 in this sex-with-strangers series; the working title is House Sitting, but this may change.  There's no telling what will happen if the characters seize control of the story and decide what they want to do...



Monday, 14 October 2013

"Deflowered" has now been renamed "His First Time" in the Amazon Kindle list.

Hello again!

I've never had to put up two notices on this blog on the same day - and I hope I won't have to again.

I'm told that Amazon are reviewing all erotic romance and erotic titles right now, and they took exception to the title, cover illustration, meta data and description of Deflowered.

So I've renamed the Amazon edition His First Time and given it a shiny new (less provocative) cover illustration.  But, apart from the title page, every word in the book is exactly the same as it was in Deflowered.  Amazon are only concerned with the material in the "shop window", so to speak, just so long as the content doesn't cover prohibited subjects... which I wouldn't write about anyway.  But if watersports and golden showers hit the prohibited list in the near future, I'm in trouble!

Deflowered in its original cover is still available from Barnes & Noble and from Smashwords - although I don't want readers to get confused and buy both Deflowered and His First Time, thinking they're two separate stories.  So I'm speaking with Smashwords tomorrow to see if I should change the title in their list.

And if you click on the link to Deflowered in the right hand margin on this page, and find yourself on the old Amazon order page, that's because Amazon haven't changed it yet.  They take anything up to a day to change things.

Best wishes

 P.S. - Here are the two covers for comparison:

"Deflowered" - an update

Hello everyone!

It has just been drawn to my attention that Deflowered is being scrutinised by Amazon Kindle and is not currently available on any of the Amazon sites.  I have asked Amazon to clarify the problem, and I hope to have it up again soon.  This is a shame, because it's one of my more popular titles.

In the meantime, it's available at Smashwords at (but you'll need a PayPal account to purchase it from them) or from Barnes & Noble at

A quick heads-up on other work: I'm around half-way through writing Waterlines 15 - I hope you'll enjoy it.  And I have some ideas for a new series which I want to start in November.  Watch this space!

A quick reminder - just in case you don't already know - I also write erotic romance as Rachel Cray - please visit my website here.

Until next time,
Best wishes - and thank you for your continued support!


Monday, 9 September 2013

A Poor Nun's Endowment - Author's Notes

Hello everyone!

My latest title is published today - A Poor Nun's Endowment. I've described it as an Erotic Dickgirl Fantasy but it has a medieval historical flavour. This is the third story in the dickgirl/futa/futinari theme and, unless I'm persuaded to write something else in this vein, it'll be the last. I have other stories - in other fetishes - that are lined up to be told!

Here's the storyline:

Mary is a country girl with a tomboy streak. When she reaches adulthood, and finds herself excluded from the company of the boys with whom she grew up, she rebels and her father consigns her to a convent. On the journey there, she is approached by an old crone and granted one wish; on an impulse, she makes a strange choice: she wants a penis, so she can be accepted in the young men's group. But fate consigns her to the priory, where Mary unwittingly falls under the spell of the evil Sister Benedicta, mistress of the novices; when Benedicta discovers Mary's anatomical transformation, she makes her her own private sex-pet and Mary finds herself installed as a hermitess, confined to a private cell... where only Benedicta can come and use her to fulfil her own sexual desires any time she wishes. Is there no escape?
A chance visit by a face from her lost past - and the simultaneous arrival of the Great Pestilence (The Black Death) - offer her the opportunity she needs. Will she grasp the moment with both hands? And what then, when the known world is turned upside down?


Mary sat on the end of her bed and allowed her tears to run freely. She heard a noise outside her door and realised the bar that confined her here was being raised; she assumed it was Sister Benedicta again and decided not to move; she would have to see the miserable state to which she had subjected her.
It wasn’t Benedicta. It was Clare and three other young nuns. “Dear Philomena, what has happened to you? Why are you so unhappy?”
She would tell them, she decided. To hell with the consequences. She tried to dry her eyes.
They sat on her bed next to her. “Come. You can tell us. We are your friends.”
“Close the door, and I’ll tell you. But this must remain private. Between the four of us here today.”
“All right,” Clare said.
“I have a secret. A terrible secret. Only Sister Benedicta knows of this, and she has been... taking advantage of it.”
“A secret?”
Mary stood up and turned to face them. She felt she was crossing a bridge; there could be no turning back now. What she showed them could not be forgotten. “Since I have arrived here, my body has changed. I am still a woman, just like all of you, but now I have... this....”
She pulled up the front of her habit; they gasped.
Clare was the first to speak. “I knew of a boy who had a fine voice and, before it broke, the monks had him castrated so that he would not lose the beautiful sound he created. Are you not really a boy like him?”
“When I first came here, most of you will have seen me naked when I was being prepared. The senior sisters would be sure to have noticed this when they undressed me.” She let the hem of her robe fall and she returned to her seat on the bed beside them.
“So how has Sister Benedicta been taking advantage of you?”
“How do you think?”
They gasped again. “Surely... surely not... that?”


Whilst writing, I have to tell you that I have a number of other projects planned for this site - it's all in my head, and the only problem is finding time to write everything down!

Until next time,