CONFESSIONS OF A SERVING WENCH - a short erotic novella.

Available to download from the following online outlets:
Kindle USA
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My name is Morag, and I am here to serve—in more ways than one.
I’m a wench who is eager for pleasures of the flesh.
I delight in my lusty ways.
I make no apologies.

Bawdy serving wench Morag keeps a watchful eye on the comings and going at the Drover’s Inn, where she witnesses all sorts of pleasurable shenanigans. Morag hopes she will be invited to partake, and she often is. In particular a Mister Duggan Moore stirs her desires, even though he’s in a clandestine relationship with another man, Mister James Grant. Duggan is a pleasure seeker, and he wants to bed Morag as well as his male lover. Just as well James doesn’t want to deny him any pleasure! Soon, all three are exploring their mutual passion...together. Let Morag tell you all about it…

Please note: this short story contains frank language, graphic m/f, m/m, m/f/m sex scenes and bawdy language appropriate to an erotic memoir in the historical setting. This short story is linked to the author's full-length novel, The Harlot, featuring secondary characters from that story, but can be read as a stand-alone story.


Taking me into his arms, he looked down at me intently. “Yesterday, you assured me that no man warmed your bed at the present time. Is that still the case?”

I tried not to laugh. “Since my requirement was to provide an audience to two lusty men, I have not had time to procure a lover for myself.”

Duggan ran his finger along the top of my bodice. The other hand was firmly planted against my back, holding me in place. “Would you like a man to warm your bed?”

There was mischief in his eyes, and I quickly sensed his intentions.

He rested a kiss in my hair and then added, “To warm where you want it most of all, perhaps...between your legs?”

With a quick intake of breath, I urged myself to respond well. I sought the right words and as I did I noticed Mister Grant watched with interest. Did he wish to do as I had and observe us together? I was surprised since he was so eager to partake the day before.

“Are you offering to take on the task?” I looked up at Duggan as boldly as I could, hoping that was the case.

Duggan smiled broadly, and responded by ducking his head to kiss my neck. It was a hungry kiss and his hands locked around my waist. I swayed, my heart pounding, my head swimming. His hands tightened on me, for which I was grateful, for he held me upright when otherwise I might fall. He surely was a strong man, and a moment later I found my feet swept from under me as he lifted in his arms.

I wondered briefly if I were dreaming, but when his breath warmed my face and his hair brushed my forehead, I knew I wasn’t.

“A ripe fruit, ready and eager to be picked and enjoyed.” Duggan glanced in Mister Grant’s direction. “Don’t you agree?”

I clasped Duggan around the neck and glanced at Mister Grant from under my lashes.

His lips were pursed as if in thought, but he nodded. There was a mixture of curiosity and nervousness in his expression, and his cheeks were stained with color. Again I had the feeling it was Duggan who made the decisions here.

He turned away and carried me to the bed, where he rested me and kissed me hungrily on the mouth while he reached for my skirts. He made no pretence at politeness as he elbowed my legs apart.

I could not, however, forget the other man’s presence. Did Duggan expect me to ignore him? The nature of their game was not at all clear, and whilst I had dallied with other folk who had taken their lodgings at The Drover’s Inn, none had been like these two. They were forbidden lovers, men who were attracted to their own kind. It made me even more curious as to my part in their arrangement.

Duggan’s bold approach affected me though, making me wanton. I opened my mouth to his tongue, and grappled for the hem of my skirts, which I hauled up to assist his approach. I wanted nothing more than to feel his weight over me. I desired him above all and was brazen in my responses, despite the onlooker.

“A willing wench,” Duggan said, and plucked at the top of my woolen stockings.

I leaned my head close alongside his and whispered, “That I am.”

Out now!

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