Southern Belle Cuckold: When He Comes Up Short, What's a Man to Do?

southern_cuckoldShe’s a Southern cutie, but he doesn’t have what it takes to ring her bell.

Southern Belle Cuckold ($12.95/5×8 Trade Paperback, $4.95/eBook, 176 pages, ISBN: 978-1-60381-491-1) is the third cuckold novel by Derrin Hart. Derrin’s two previous books, Our Dark Secret: A Modern Cuckold Memoir and Tiffany’s Cuckold, are considered classics of the genre, exhibiting the author’s characteristic sly humor and raunchy inventiveness.

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When divorcé Michael meets divorcée Catherine at the gym, he’s convinced that she’s the perfect southern girl whose family will blend harmoniously with his. But Cat is not what she seems, not a tame little southern lamb, cultivated and gently reared to stroke his ego. No, she is a wild rose of Texas, a vixen who will stop at nothing to get satisfaction, even if it means jumping the chauffeur in their wedding limo. And that’s only the beginning. After all, Michael is a loving dad and a good provider, but as far as God’s gifts go, his package isn’t quite what it should be. Catherine needs more, a lot more, and he’d better come to terms with that … or else.

Keep reading for an excerpt:

I paced restlessly around about the house as I waited for the girls to return. Then I played with Oscar the cat to kill a little more time. A text came in and I rushed to my phone to read it. It was my wife. The text read, I have arrived and I’m on my way up to his loft. Be home soon, Love Cat.

An hour passed and I could think of nothing else. I masturbated to bikini pictures of Catherine I had taken on a trip to the shore. Then girls arrived home next, so there was another distraction. Both Julie and Jen said little and went their separate ways. Jen headed to her bedroom and Julie, to the television. I talked briefly to Julie, asking how her day had gone and making small talk. I think we had finally gotten past the shower incident, yet it still felt weird. I did all I could not to think of Catherine. I was turned on by her antics, yet humiliated as well. An hour passed and again a text came in.

The new text read, Just leaving now, was amazing, be home with details in twenty!

I anxiously awaited my wife’s return. I just sat and thought back to the beginning of our relationship. At first Catherine had been so reserved. She would pin up her light brown hair in a bun and conceal her body with a long t-shirt. I guess the only indicator was her little black spandex shorts. Her ass was round and visible and she wore no panties. But, who would have imagined her so carefree and wild? This woman was lucky to weigh one hundred pounds and probably stood no more than five foot three. I figured she was past her wild streak—sexy and a milf, yes, but not young enough to be “active” in this way. I guess I’d figured wrong. Being forty-something had not put a damper on her sex drive. Quite the opposite.

I found my penis hardening again. How she ended up with a co-worker tonight floored me. Then I thought of the black limo driver and our wedding. I was rock hard and stroking myself again. The orgasm that followed was incredible. Before I had fully recovered she was home.

She walked in as I stood waiting for her in the hallway. Her hair was a mess and her makeup different—she must have reapplied it. She smiled and hugged me. I followed her into the kitchen, where she sat on a barstool. “So how was your evening?” she asked with a grin.

“Very funny,” I replied. “I’m kind of freaking out here, Catherine,” I added in all seriousness.

She pouted and stared me directly in the eye. “Relax honey, I will tell you everything upstairs.” Her cheeks were flushed and she had razor burn around her mouth. I waited in silence. Then I got cocky, “Perhaps I should see other people too?”

Catherine laughed. “Come upstairs, silly,” she said, taking my hand and leading me to our bedroom. “Your sexual services ain’t worth beans, darlin’,” she drawled. Normally her Texas accent was hardly noticeable, but I could tell she was feeling her oats. “No one would want you.”

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