Hot Steamy Erotic eBook Set On Tropical Island

A hauntingly beautiful erotic masterpiece...

Primitive by Lizbeth Dusseau ebook coverMy friends over at Adult eBook Shop tell me that they have a very erotic and sexy ebook newly added to their site...

Primitive by Lizbeth Dusseau - A very sexy read. My girlfriend loved it!

The blurb:
"You can't go primitive in the jungle without going wild. You can't dive into darkness without giving the darkness a sign of your savagery."

In the sensuous climate of a tiny South Seas Isle the pristine virgin, Camille, is betrayed by her ruthless sister, handed over to a white man who's turned savage by the teaming jungle. Captive and bound she angrily decries her fate. And yet, the master of the erotic, Llewellyn, knows she hungers to have her wild nature set free. He refuses to take her without her consent, but she succumbs to a seduction by his two dark-skinned native servants until she begs to be deflowered. So begins the odyssey of her transformation from virgin maid to sexual slave.

Conquered by Llewellyn's loving domination, she dives into primitive lust becoming a slave to her master—a queen in her jungle. A lush feast of psychological domination/submission, written in Camille's own words.

The Excerpt:
"You are a beautiful sight," he says. He is a stocky man, about five-feet ten. Older, perhaps forty, but handsome-and primitive for a white man. He wears a pair of tan Bermuda shorts, a baggy tan shirt open down the front, a chain of unusual beads and sandals. His graying hair has grown long dangling along side his cheeks. He wears a large straw hat so his face remains in the shadows, but that cannot prevent me from seeing the tattoos on his face. Two dark arrows mark his square jawline. And three bold lines of black, like fingers, are drawn down the sides of his nose. There is an earring in his ear and rings on each finger of one hand but none on the other. A tiny gold dot on the side of his nostril suggests that he's pierced there too. I find myself going cold seeing him, and have to turn away, he's difficult to look at.

Lydia has an altogether different response to our intruder. Though she's not bold enough to stand naked in front of him, she does nothing to cover herself even after the first shock is over. Still sitting on her rock, her breasts bared for his eyes she addresses him. "Whom might you be?"

"Llewellyn," he says, "And you?"

"Lydia Sebring, and that is my sister Camille, the bashful one. Our father is the scientist that has just arrived to study the island."

"Ah, I see now why there'd be two beauties sunbathing in my jungle. I thought my eyes were deceiving me when I stumbled on you." His voice is deep-throated and resonant, vibrating in the hollowness of the jungle. It gives me shivers when he speaks.

He looks back at me, but I can't look into his eyes, even though he waits for me to look at his face. In my peripheral vision, I can see his interest, but I don't want him interested in me. Lydia pulls her dress over her shoulders and saunters toward him, cocking her head so it tosses her slick hair half over her eyes, looking sexily mussed.

"And what do you do on the island?" she asks him

"I've lived here for twenty years. I paint."

"Ah, you're the man whose work hangs in all the galleries. Father said to watch out for you. I don't think he trusts you?"

"And what would give him that idea?"

"He says your paintings are savage. My father is not a savage man."

"He should stay here some years and see how he feels then."

I watch her work on the man, knowing that he'll be charmed the way every other man is seeing her. Slut. I hear myself saying that much too often, and I realize it's wrong to judge her. But she is so beyond me.

"But lest he think I'll do some evil to his daughters," Llewellyn continues, "I'd better go."

"Oh, now wouldn't that a be a delight," Lydia whispers to me as he strolls away.

"What would be a delight?"

"To have 'evil' done to me by that man," she says. Her eyes are evil, I think. That midnight, jet-black, sleek looking gleam makes me shiver as much as Llewellyn does.

"You should stay away from him," I tell her. Of course she won't listen.

After three weeks on the island, Lydia is off with Llewellyn several times. She's furtive about her visits, leaves me at our bathing pool, which I heartily protest, though she goes anyway. Sneaking along the jungle path she finds his hut somewhere in a remote part of the island and plays with him in bed. I don't want to hear about her sexual escapades, they disgust me. But I can't stop her talking late at night, when she plops down on my bed, after I've already fallen asleep. She wakes me, my eyes opening, startled to see her staring at me with an infernal gleam I cannot trust. She tells me how they made love.

He's not a child, Camille," she purrs like a cat when she speaks softly. "But a man. His body is strong, no flab for an old man, but so firm. He's tan without a line, like me. He tells me he works in the nude, but I haven't seen that yet." She heaves this deep, self-satisfied sigh. "He says he wants a female model. I think he'll use me. Wouldn't that be heavenly, to be studied all day by a man of art? To be rendered in color lounging among banana leaves and ferns? Makes me wet between my thighs, thinking of it."

"Lydia!" I protest. "I don't want to hear about your sex with the man."

"That's only because you're so envious."

"I am not. The last thing I want is a loveless affair with a man who is content to use me and then cast me off when he gets tired of me."

"Oh, you're incurable. In search of a husband? Here? In this god-forsaken place? It'll never happen, Camille. All we can hope for while father broods is to have some fun with our loins and a few potent stalks."

"Don't talk dirty!" I try to quell her again.

"I love talking dirty to you," she snickers. While I lie in bed, she leans over me, her two hands on either side of my head, her face bending down to mine. Her lips are much too close to mine. "You're so easy to upset. You get all in a dither looking stuffy. Your rules are going to make you miserable, little sis. But that's all right with me, because that means I'll have the creme de la creme for me. And let's face it, on this isle, we can't really be that choosy."

"The only man I want is a husband," I tell her.

"How naïve," she says backing away smirking. The twist to her lips makes me fear her. But I've seen it before so I have no reason to be afraid. Yet, in this sultry savage climate I'm not sure that she won't become more crazed than she already is.

Rising, she stands beside my bed and looks down on me.

"You know, he has the largest cock I've even seen, certainly that has ever entered me. His balls are heavy, hanging low. But it's his forceful way with me that intrigues me the most. When he presses into me, he rides hard and I scream carefree." The way her body undulates as she speaks I think she's back in the moment, remembering so well that she'll re-experience the whole scene before my eyes. I don't want to see it, but I have no choice but to wait until Lydia finishes her testimony. If I look away she won't stop, so I allow my eyes to keep their focus, staying one step back from her in consciousness. I try not to think of how her sensuous body is affecting me.

She runs her hands over her flesh, down the sticky sides of her satin gown. Her thighs quiver and she moans quietly, her eyes drooping lazily until they close. I'm too shocked to speak. She has me hypnotized the way she moves before me. The slip of a nightgown drops to the floor and she's naked masturbating before my eyes; though I don't think she even remembers I'm here the way she looks lost in her sensuous reverie. I watch as she fondles her breasts while a hand remains at her crotch opening the thatch of silken hair to expose the purple insides of her pussy. Her middle fingers moves directly to the hole deep in that cleft. One finger driving into the place becomes two, becomes three, until I realize that she's using her fingers like a cock to fuck herself...

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