Read Online Holly and Her Naughty eReader by Julianne Spencer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julianne Spencer
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Werewolf on
the Kindle and started reading. Once again I was Sula Valkyrie, the beautiful
badass who falls in love with Blair the Werewolf. And, for a time, it was fun.
But I’d already been Sula. Wouldn’t it be fun to experience this story from
someone else’s point of view? Wouldn’t it be fun to get a completely different
look on life, one that I’d never have the chance to experience in the real
world?
Remembering how in Wuthering Heights I ditched Nelly’s body
and hopped into Catherine’s, I approached Blair, now in his lovely human form,
but only a few hours from the next full moon, and I stared him down.
“Sula, my darling, why do you
look at me so?” Blair said.
Because I want to be you , I thought.
And then I was. Like a movie
camera swinging around a set, my vision shifted from Sula’s westward facing
view to Blair’s taller, eastward vision. I was him. I was looking at the woman
whose body I had just left. For half a second she stared at me with the
intensity I had left for her, but then she looked away.
“I….I don’t know,” Sula said. “What
was I saying? I felt for a moment that I was not myself.”
“Then who were you?” I said.
The words came from my mouth
without any effort of my own to speak them. My voice was sultry. I was speaking
in a seductive tone. It was simultaneously the most natural and strange way of
speaking I had ever felt. The part of me that was Blair, the wolf man, spoke
this way without thinking about it. Blair wanted Sula. He always wanted her.
And when he spoke, his words conveyed this desire.
But Holly, who was sharing
brain-space with Blair, had never spoken this way to anyone, and she almost let
out a giggle of delight.
A gender switcheroo. I was in a
man’s body. Tootsie in reverse. This
was gonna be fun.
Right away I noticed some
fundamental differences. My desire for Sula wasn’t wrought of love or
tenderness, but more from a kind of aggression. I wanted to take her body and
have it all for me before anyone else beat me to it. It was an odd sensation,
like I was angry and wanted to punish her for not making love to me right this
moment.
And I felt less in control of my
actions. You know that joke we like to make about men thinking with their
penises? Turns out there’s some truth to it. Not that my penis was talking to
me in words, just that it was ready to rock and roll and I had no choice but to
do its bidding. It reminded me of a short story I read once where a man was a
slave to the whims of his own hand. In that story, the man’s hand wanted to
kill, so he became a murderer.
In my story, as Blair the
werewolf, it wasn’t my hand that was in charge. My whole body was slave now to
the desires of ‘my nether regions.’ I grabbed Sula and kissed her hard, and my
penis went to full attention. Holy smokes that thing is weird! It was like
there was a dog down there that wanted to poke its head out and start sniffing
at something . Something’s there. Want it
now. Must have it. MUST HAVE IT!
Did you ever read that old email
forward about the dog named Mypenis? I always thought that email was stupid,
and I never understood why guys found it so funny.
Now I know. Imagining my penis
as some voraciously sniffing hound dog, that email popped in my mind and I
started giggling at how perfectly hilarious it was.
Mypenis ate my homework.
Mypenis likes it when people pet him.
Mypenis gets excited whenever the mailman comes.
Sorry I'm late. I was playing with Mypenis.
You’ll have to forgive me. At
this point, not only was I a slave to the desires of that strange organ, but I
also found it insanely amusing. As Blair, I had a new appreciation for a good
penis joke. The thoughts were so simple. The jokes so elegant.
Penis is funny!
Sula is hot!
Penis wants her!
Or should I say, Mypenis wants
her?
I grabbed Sula by the back of
the head, pressed our lips together, and pushed my tongue down her throat. Yeah, baby, you like that , I thought. I’m
the Kindle and started reading. Once again I was Sula Valkyrie, the beautiful
badass who falls in love with Blair the Werewolf. And, for a time, it was fun.
But I’d already been Sula. Wouldn’t it be fun to experience this story from
someone else’s point of view? Wouldn’t it be fun to get a completely different
look on life, one that I’d never have the chance to experience in the real
world?
Remembering how in Wuthering Heights I ditched Nelly’s body
and hopped into Catherine’s, I approached Blair, now in his lovely human form,
but only a few hours from the next full moon, and I stared him down.
“Sula, my darling, why do you
look at me so?” Blair said.
Because I want to be you , I thought.
And then I was. Like a movie
camera swinging around a set, my vision shifted from Sula’s westward facing
view to Blair’s taller, eastward vision. I was him. I was looking at the woman
whose body I had just left. For half a second she stared at me with the
intensity I had left for her, but then she looked away.
“I….I don’t know,” Sula said. “What
was I saying? I felt for a moment that I was not myself.”
“Then who were you?” I said.
The words came from my mouth
without any effort of my own to speak them. My voice was sultry. I was speaking
in a seductive tone. It was simultaneously the most natural and strange way of
speaking I had ever felt. The part of me that was Blair, the wolf man, spoke
this way without thinking about it. Blair wanted Sula. He always wanted her.
And when he spoke, his words conveyed this desire.
But Holly, who was sharing
brain-space with Blair, had never spoken this way to anyone, and she almost let
out a giggle of delight.
A gender switcheroo. I was in a
man’s body. Tootsie in reverse. This
was gonna be fun.
Right away I noticed some
fundamental differences. My desire for Sula wasn’t wrought of love or
tenderness, but more from a kind of aggression. I wanted to take her body and
have it all for me before anyone else beat me to it. It was an odd sensation,
like I was angry and wanted to punish her for not making love to me right this
moment.
And I felt less in control of my
actions. You know that joke we like to make about men thinking with their
penises? Turns out there’s some truth to it. Not that my penis was talking to
me in words, just that it was ready to rock and roll and I had no choice but to
do its bidding. It reminded me of a short story I read once where a man was a
slave to the whims of his own hand. In that story, the man’s hand wanted to
kill, so he became a murderer.
In my story, as Blair the
werewolf, it wasn’t my hand that was in charge. My whole body was slave now to
the desires of ‘my nether regions.’ I grabbed Sula and kissed her hard, and my
penis went to full attention. Holy smokes that thing is weird! It was like
there was a dog down there that wanted to poke its head out and start sniffing
at something . Something’s there. Want it
now. Must have it. MUST HAVE IT!
Did you ever read that old email
forward about the dog named Mypenis? I always thought that email was stupid,
and I never understood why guys found it so funny.
Now I know. Imagining my penis
as some voraciously sniffing hound dog, that email popped in my mind and I
started giggling at how perfectly hilarious it was.
Mypenis ate my homework.
Mypenis likes it when people pet him.
Mypenis gets excited whenever the mailman comes.
Sorry I'm late. I was playing with Mypenis.
You’ll have to forgive me. At
this point, not only was I a slave to the desires of that strange organ, but I
also found it insanely amusing. As Blair, I had a new appreciation for a good
penis joke. The thoughts were so simple. The jokes so elegant.
Penis is funny!
Sula is hot!
Penis wants her!
Or should I say, Mypenis wants
her?
I grabbed Sula by the back of
the head, pressed our lips together, and pushed my tongue down her throat. Yeah, baby, you like that , I thought. I’m
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