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The Beatrice books follow the lives of a number of characters, each of whom are connected directly or indirectly with the beautiful Beatrice, now in her mid thirties and forever looking for that next exciting moment with either a man or a woman. You will discover things you might have already come across in our earlier books, especially in the main Eros Crescent trilogy: The Fifi Code, Eros Crescent and Mount Eros. Discover the Sydney Swingers Club and its joyful members. And follow the recently liberated Elizabeth along with her husband Henry.
"Penny had telephoned a week or so ago, crying and insisting that Beatrice see her immediately. Penny arrived shortly after the phone call and when she came through the door she simply stared at her friend. Then she thrust her phone towards Beatrice.
Beatrice stared at the picture on display. A good looking man wearing a big smile was looking at who was taking the picture. But what was most noticeable was that it showed fingers holding an erection which he was about to use on the rear end of a woman bent over in front of him.
But the real shock for Beatrice was recognising the woman. It was herself, standing with her hands against the Cactus Club’s well known Willing Wall in the side garden.
Beatrice occasionally found herself a willing volunteer on the last Friday night of each month when she went clubbing with her girlfriends. After a couple of drinks, they might enjoy a fun interaction with one or two men, getting them excited as they acted provocatively in their short skirts and low necklines and of course, the high heels.
In the picture, Beatrice’s short skirt lay on the ground along with her bra, and her knicker graced an ankle. She wore only her stockings and suspender belt and her noticeable high fashion heels.
A grinning good-looking young man stood just behind her, his cocking standing and about to be embedded in her. A woman’s thumb and finger was just visible holding the base of his cock as she was taking the picture with her other hand.
It was as much as she could do to stop staring at the image. But then she looked up at Penny who’s washed out face spoke of her anguish.
“I’ve never met Leonid, Penny; not knowingly at least. I’m guessing this is him? And Penny, I assume you know that the woman is me. If you didn’t know, I’m telling you now.