Paint Me Curious Red (MF)

Curious 2

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 45,985
0 Ratings (0.0)
[Siren Classic: Erotic Contemporary Romance, public exhibition, sex toys, HEA]
With newfound happiness, Seamus Balsam and Summer Knight return from the South Pacific islands of Bora Bora and Tahiti where they had been vacationing. Back in Maine, they can’t seem to get enough of each other. There are sex-filled nights, and days flow with passion.
Their happiness, however, is short-lived, when Summer is offered a position at the university, leaving Seamus annoyed because he has taken a year off so that they could spend time with each other. Removing the painting of his father from its position of prominence sends the household into a tailspin. Its removal brings many questions to the surface, forcing Seamus to face the realities of his life.
Their feisty Irish housekeeper, Mrs. O’Reilly, reveals a secret which has long tortured Seamus. This revelation, which Summer had long ago suspected, pushes him into making some very important life decisions, some of which bring happiness and others which leave him frustrated.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Paint Me Curious Red (MF)
0 Ratings (0.0)

Paint Me Curious Red (MF)

Curious 2

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 45,985
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Christine Kirchoff




Together they lifted the old trunk and set it down on the floor. He pulled the old rusty key from his pocket and stared at her, then inserted it into the keyhole of the steamer trunk. It refused to budge.

“Maybe a little oil will help,” he said, dashing out of the little storage room and downstairs to the garage.

He returned with a small can with a nozzle and dripped a bit of oil into the lock and a bit on the key. After a few minutes of trying, there was a click. The trunk was now about to divulge its secrets. He stared at her before lifting the lid. She blew the dust away and he timidly lifted the lid. Lying on the top was a green piece of fabric, the significance of it he didn’t know, so he tossed it to the side. The photo of a little boy with red hair was the first thing they saw.

“Is this you?” Summer asked.

“I don’t know. It could be,” he replied, staring at the photo for a few seconds and continuing his search.

“I’m sorry, Seamus, but he seemed like a really strange man. Imagine going about this in such a strange and cruel way.”

He didn’t hear her. His focus was on the photo of a woman in a swimsuit, wearing a broad hat.

“Show it to me,” she said.

She stared at the photo, but had no idea who it was because the hat had hidden most of the woman’s face. She turned it around and found the date September 1964.

“That means this was taken just before you were born. She seemed happy.”

“We don’t know if it’s my mother,” he replied.

He searched the trunk, but found no other photos. He found his father’s birth certificate and other documents like old bank books, old receipts, and purchase documents for the home. There was also a letter from a St. Judes, government-run mental institution with the name Claire Balsam and dated June 16th, 1967. He kept looking at it, turning the document over, and checking and rechecking for more information.

“What are you going to do?” Summer asked.

“Keep looking through this trunk,” he said curtly.

“What I mean is that now you’ve got this information, are you going to get in touch with the detective?”

“I don’t think so. I would prefer to keep this under wraps.”

“Aren’t you going to search for her?”

“Yes, but now that I know the name of the institution where he put her, I know where to start my search.”

He kept on digging through the dusty contents and came upon a letter with his first name printed across the front of the envelope. He perched himself on a second trunk beside Summer and opened it.


Dear Seamus,

I know we did not have the kind of relationship that a father and son usually share, but there were things which I did not have a chance to clear with you before you disappeared. You have probably considered me a father in name only, but by the time you read this, you may have children of your own and will understand why I acted the way I did. You were not the easiest child to handle, especially after your mother was taken from the home. It was a very difficult time for me, alone and caring for a very young child.


“She wasn’t taken. The bastard put her in a mental hospital, and all this time I blamed her for leaving me with him.”

“Read on,” said Summer, eager to hear the rest of the contents of the letter.


You told me time and time again, that I had taken your mother away from you and you would never forgive me, but I had to send her away because she was ill. I tried to explain it to you when you were a teenager, but you would have none of it, and then you left home. I tried to find you and finally gave up.

Many years may have passed as you read this letter, and I want you to forgive me for any hurt I have caused you. In my own way, I have tried to be a good father, and later, I tried to make amends. I hope your time in the home, which I built with you in my mind, was a comfortable time.

Fondest regards,

Your father,

David Balsam.


He returned the items to the trunk, examining each one for any further details that would lead him to his mother, dead or alive. He opened the old bank book. Every month, on the same date, there was a transfer of four hundred dollars from his father’s account. He wondered where the money had been deposited. The last transfer shown was during the month in which he had died.

“If you contact the bank, perhaps they can offer a little more information,” Summer told him.

He grew silent as he put the last of the contents back into the trunk. Summer could only watch his pain, as the reality about his mother set in. The letter from his father and the bank book were the only items he kept aside. He held his hand out to Summer and she held it.

“Lock the trunk,” she said.

“There is nothing of importance in there,” he replied.

“That’s true, but you should still place the lock on it.”

After thirty years, he finally knew what had happened to his mother. Was she still in the institution or had she passed away? He handed her the key and she securely locked the trunk, keeping its contents safe from prying eyes.




She turned around and stared at Seamus. He ran his thumb and forefinger along the curvature of her lips. She was in love with Seamus, but the handsome stranger was lusting after her, and she after him.

“Do you want me?” asked Seamus.

“Yes,” she whispered, searching for Jean-Louis’s hand and caressing it.

“I don’t want to intrude,” said the handsome stranger.

“You’re not intruding,” said Seamus, his hand grazing lightly across her breast.

Jean-Louis gently turned her head back in his direction. He moved toward her, his lips brushing against hers releasing a plethora of emotions inside her. Her breathing became shallow, and his soft velvety tongue invaded her mouth, intertwining with hers. The kiss was long and passionate and overtook their bodies. Her heart began to thump wildly as desire pumped through her aroused body.

“You make me hot,” Jean-Louis growled, his voice laced with lust.

His hand moved to her breast, and he stroked her nipple between his thumb and index finger, and she called out his name. He eased the top of her blouse down , exposing the lacy top of her bra. His tongue moved slowly along the edge of it, while Seamus’s nimble fingers slowly unbuttoned her blouse. Jean-Louis continued his seductive quest, until he reached one hardened nipple. His warm tongue licked it through her sheer bra, and she closed her eyes, revelling in the euphoria. Another hand eased her out of her bra, and circled the other nipple with a warm tongue. She threw her head to the back of the sofa and allowed the delicious feeling and gentle caressing to consume her. Her body no longer felt like her own, and she could feel the moisture forming between her legs. A warm tongue entered her mouth and she groaned loudly, while her pussy throbbed stronger than a beating heart. She felt as if a hundred hands were exploring her body in all its secret places. It was an experience she had never had and one she didn’t want to end. Something warm was pressed into her hand. A hard and pulsing cock! She stroked it and someone moaned. It was not Seamus. This was bigger than Seamus’s. Fingers entered her mouth and she sucked on them. Someone was licking her toes and working his way up her legs, between her thighs, which had been pushed apart, and a cool breeze blew, kissing her between the legs. She stiffened and stretched out her legs, and immediately someone lifted one of them over his shoulder. A rigid tongue circled her clit and forced its way into her entrance. Her body lurched forward, taking the tongue along with it.

“Ohhhhh,” she murmured, as another tongue filled her mouth, silencing her.

It moved from her mouth to her breasts, and the muscle in her hand kept growing longer and thicker. A tongue and fingers moved in and out of her, causing her body to react wildly to the pleasure that was consuming it. She opened her eyes and looked straight in to Jean-Louis’ ice-blue eyes. He was standing close to her, his rigid penis still in her hand. She was almost afraid to look at it because it felt as if it had doubled in size.

“Suck it,” he begged in a husky voice.

She glanced down and could only see half of Seamus’s face. The other half was hidden by her leg, which was resting easily on his shoulder. He was working away wildly on her clit. He lapped at it, and took it between his teeth, and she groaned. She heard something rip. With one quick tug, Seamus had torn her crotchless panties from her body and filled his mouth with her delicious pussy.

She looked again at Jean-Louis, who was still working diligently on his erection. He moved closer to her and edged it between her lips. At first he moved slowly, but then his rapid movements increased. Her mouth felt full, and as Jean-Louis worked his long shaft in and out, she was finding it harder to breathe. Seamus lifted her leg even higher for easy access, and she felt his beast menacingly circling her entrance. He slipped the crown inside and rotated it slowly. The state of her arousal gave her a giddy feeling. Deeper and deeper his cock penetrated her, and then he withdrew it. Then he thrusted it in again deeper inside her. He kept thrusting, his balls slapping wildly against her buttocks. She was now being pumped mercilessly from both ends. She felt as if her body would explode. Overwhelmed by the feeling of sweet seduction, she lapsed into a state euphoria.

She had no idea how they made it to the bed, but she knew that the men had changed places. She could feel the thickness of Jean-Louis’s cock deep inside her as he stretched her walls, and repeatedly jammed himself into her. He was lost inside her, thrusting against her slippery walls, forcing her to pull him even deeper. She stared at Seamus. He was kneeling on the bed, his erection deep inside her mouth, and his hands kneading her breasts.

The men had again changed places, and she could only tell their positions by the scent of their respective colognes. Someone finally removed her bra, which she had been wearing like a necklace for most of the evening, and squeezed his beast between her breasts.

It was like a game of musical chairs. Positions were changed, fingers moved in and out of her body, tongues twirled against each other, and erections popped in and out of her body. Every orifice was full. Her bottom now high in the air was being parted by Jean-Louis’s strong hands. He knelt behind her and spread her cheeks apart. He then entered her with a mighty plunge, while his fingers fondled her throbbing clit. Seamus, on the other hand, had his hot dick between her lips and watched lasciviously as it moved back and forth, growing larger with each thrust.

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