Welcome to E. Mayberry Read online

  Welcome to E. Mayberry

  A Charming Little Neighborhood Full of Kinky Secrets

  By: Chris Genovese

  Welcome to E. Mayberry: A Charming Little Neighborhood Full of Kinky Secrets

  1st Edition

  Copyright © 2017 by Chris Genovese

  Published by Erotic Mayberry Publishing

  Written by Chris Genovese

  Cover created by Chris Genovese

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  http://www.eroticmayberry.com

  To sign up for the Chris Genovese or Carver Pike newsletter please go to: http://eroticmayberry.com/newsletter-sign-up/

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Erotic Mayberry HOA Rules and Regulations

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my fans. To everyone who has been there for me from the beginning until now and hopefully on into the future. You are the real neighbors of Erotic Mayberry and this book goes out to all of you!

  Also, a big thanks to an amazing group of women who beta read for me this time around. You guys always keep me neat and tidy. Thank you Kendall, Maureen, Riley, Stacy, Chrisstine, and Alicia. Love you guys!

  Introduction

  Erotic Mayberry is a charming little neighborhood full of kinky secrets. It’s the name I chose for my fanclub because I think of all my fans as friends and imagine us all living side by side with no stress or judgment. It’s a place, as Sunshine finds out in this book, that’s all about pleasure. If you want something, have it. If you want someone, have him (or her). Imagine that kind of happiness. As you read this, remember you’re a neighbor of Erotic Mayberry, so Sunshine could be you.

  Oh! And remember to check out the sample of the Homeowners’ Association Rules and Regulations at the back of the book with many of these rules provided by members of my fanclub. Now that’s fucking cool!

  Yours truly,

  Chris Genovese

  If you guys like this book and want to check out my other work, please check out all the other books on Amazon by Chris Genovese here: http://author.to/CCGenoveseAuthorPage

  Or go to http://www.eroticmayberry.com

  To see the erotic horror and dark fantasy books by my other pen name, Carver Pike, please click here: http://author.to/CarverPike

  Or go to http://www.CarverPike.com

  *The characters in this book are fictional and fully understand the need to use protection during sex. If it is not mentioned in this novella, it is only to prevent the slowing down of the story or interruption to the fantasy element. Have fun and be safe!*

  Chapter 1

  He wanted to know about Erotic Mayberry. That’s the best place to start this story. My story. For the sake of not confusing anyone, I’ll keep my conversations with the detective in bold so you can clearly understand the switch between my discussions with him and my story about Erotic Mayberry.

  I didn’t want to speak to anyone about my past.

  I didn’t want to.

  But he insisted.

  The detective had shown up as I was about to sit with a cup of coffee and watch one of my soaps. I hated missing my soaps but it wasn’t every day that a man in a suit showed up at my door. Suit porn. Nothing better.

  I wore a sundress, tight to my body, and considered changing into something a little less comfortable but figured, what the fuck, this is my house. Let him be uncomfortable.

  I gestured for him to sit in an armchair while I sat on the loveseat across from him.

  He told me he was investigating a neighborhood I used to live in, a place called E. Mayberry. Erotic Mayberry to those who lived there.

  “I’m going to need you to start from the beginning,” he said. “Tell me about your entrance into this…Erotic Mayberry…as you call it.”

  “Not what I call it. What THEY call it.”

  “And who are they?” he asked.

  The detective had told me to call him Tension. I thought that was a really odd name. Especially given the situation. The room seemed to be filled with nothing but tension.

  “Is that your real name?” I asked him.

  He was confused. I’d changed the subject, something I often do when I’m nervous or uncomfortable in a situation.

  “Tension,” I said. “That can’t be your real name.”

  “Tenccione,” he replied. “It’s Italian. But it sounds close enough and the nickname kind of stuck. So I’m Tension. Now, since I’ve been so polite as to answer your question, would you mind answering mine?”

  He was good looking, long hair that looked like he hadn’t washed it in a few days, kind of greasy and unkempt, but I liked the way his loose tie hung around his stubbly neck. He probably hadn’t shaved since the last time he shampooed.

  Oh how I’d love to ride that five o’clock shadow.

  He had a bit of a cleft in his chin, which kind of reminded me of an old 80s sitcom star, one I couldn’t quite place my finger on. I decided Tension was hot in an old fashioned, manly cop kind of way.

  Was it Tony Danza? Maybe.

  His smug attitude was the one trait keeping me from falling head over heels. He had a bit of an asshole way about him. Now, I’m not saying I’m not a sucker for bad boys but even the baddest boys usually know how to turn on the charm. Tension occasionally raised a cocky eyebrow and smirked when the timing was right.

  “They,” I said, “Means everyone. Really. Maybe even someone in your department. They’re everyone.”

  Tension stared at me, his deep brown eyes focused on my face, unwavering, waiting for more. I wondered if I should give it to him. I had nothing to lose here. I wasn’t some kind of suspect in a criminal investigation. I was only a young woman with a story to tell and it was a story this cop wanted for some reason.

  As I considered giving him the info he needed, I noticed his eyes had drifted down to my breasts. My cleavage. I’d been leaning forward without noticing, and being slightly curvy, I knew I had an unbelievable rack. It was my best asset. And Tension seemed pleased.

  “My eyes are up here,” I said.

  But by all means, keep them wherever you like.

  He snapped out of his trance and brought his gaze up to meet mine.

  I wanted to fuck him. I decided it right then. That has always been my problem. I’m a bit of a nymphomaniac and I tend to make bad decisions when it comes to sexy men. And Tension was unbelievably sexy. He looked aggressive and sometimes aggression is nice.

  “Do you want inside me?” I asked.

  He laughed and shook his head as if my last question might drip off like water from his hair after a cold shower.

  “I want information,” he said.

  “So you want inside me.”

  “I want answers.”

  “And the answers are inside me.”

  I love fucking with guys. They’re so easy to unnerve. Tension was playing it cool though. He rubbed at his chin and laughed.

  I’d never had a hard time getting guys. I lost my virginity at the age of fourteen when a neighbor kid held me down and had his way with me. It was rough at first and I didn’t really like it. But a week later, I held him down and had my way with
him. Then I did it again and again and from then on I was a sex addict.

  My story needed to be told. I decided to give Tension what he wanted. I twirled my blonde hair around a finger, licked my lips, and opened my legs a smidgen, loving the feel of my pussy against the loveseat cushion.

  “Tension,” I said. “I’m going to tell you all that I can. I can’t promise it’ll help you solve any crime or any problem you have with Erotic Mayberry but I can promise you’re going to get hard as I tell my story. If at any point you need to get up and relieve yourself, the bathroom is upstairs, second door to the left.”

  He laughed under his breath and shook his head again.

  “You’re a very…interesting woman,” he said.

  “You have no idea,” I promised.

  And he didn’t but I knew hearing my story might open up his eyes to the world in which I’d lived. He was definitely in for a surprise. So I started my story, deciding that I wouldn’t hold back. I’d give him all the details exactly as they went down.

  Here’s my story, word for word, as I told the detective.

  Chapter 2

  “It started with a blowjob and a hand job. As I told you, I was, am, a sex addict.

  When I was in college, right around the age of twenty, back before I inherited the name Sunshine, I was Heather. Heather Camillo. Well, one day I found myself in the football locker room, one fist wrapped around one guy’s cock while my lips slid up and down another’s. I was planning on fucking both of the guys before leaving the room. They knew it too.

  I alternated between the two dicks, one giant size, the other quite small, but I’ve always liked them in all different shapes and sizes. I was fighting back my gag reflex on the larger cock when I felt the smaller one in my hand let loose. Cum bubbled over my knuckles and coated him, giving me the lubrication needed to pump his dick harder and faster.

  His moans were too loud. Much too loud.

  Within seconds I heard giggling behind me. Then all out laughter. The guy whose cock I was sucking pulled out of my mouth and covered himself up quickly. The cum bubbler did the same and suddenly I turned around to see the locker room full of the rest of the football team and cheerleaders.

  The cameras flashed.

  The laughter seemed to switch to evil cackling.

  My heart sank.

  I was the school whore.

  I was twenty years old and I was already a well-known whore.

  Of course after that getting a date wasn’t difficult at all but being taken seriously was. I tried to have a normal life but the past kept haunting me.

  A party flyer went around with the picture of me on it, the one with my hand covered in cum and my mouth open in shock. It read: This Party Cums Complete with a Heather-Like Good Time.

  I was a star without the benefits that come with fame. I was the worst kind of popular, the kind where every date you hope is normal ends with a guy pulling his cock out of his zipper in the car and pointing at it as if to say, “You know what needs to go down.”

  That was my life.

  And I was miserable.

  I was so lonely and felt so cold. Who knew bullies existed in our twenties? It sounds absurd. But bullies are brutal no matter what age they are.

  I thought I’d finally found my escape from everything when I met a guy from a far-away school. He wouldn’t know my reputation and I’d be able to go on a serious date.

  So we did. It was great. And then it wasn’t.

  We fucked. I’d told myself we wouldn’t but when you’re addicted to sex, you know no other way to end a date. I was riding him in the back of his pickup truck, parked by the lake, the moonlight shining down on us. He was filling me so good and I was so into him…into it…and then he said it. The words that ended me.

  He said, “Charlie was right. Your pussy is un-fucking-believable.”

  “What did you say?” I asked him.

  “Oh nothing. Sorry. Keep going, baby.”

  I punched him. I hit him right in the nose. Hard. Then he kicked me out of the bed of his truck. I was lucky enough to grab my dress before he sped off, spewing a cloud of dirt all over me.

  I was alone again. Really alone. I stood all alone in the dark, lakeside, wondering how I was going to get home. Then it started to rain and I was cold, wet, and alone. That’s a hell of a way to be in at such a young age. I felt worthless. Unlovable. All because I loved having sex. It made me feel good. So why was I suffering because of it?

  By the time I made it back to my apartment I was a wreck. I wanted to kill myself but how? Jumping off the dormitory roof seemed too violent. I couldn’t imagine closing my eyes and taking the leap. Even worse were my thoughts about the flyers that might go around following my death.

  “Rest in Peace Heather Party. They came and she went.” I could imagine the picture of me with my hand full of cum superimposed over a computer-created gravestone.

  I thought of all the ways to kill myself and all the ways I might be able to disappear after. Maybe if I threw myself into the ocean with a giant rock chained to my feet. Maybe that would do it. In the end I chickened out.

  Instead, I quit school and I struggled. I worked as a waitress and even tried being a stripper. I can fuck but I’m not so good at moving along to a beat. I was waiting tables at the strip club when Rayko pulled me onto his lap and whispered into my ear, “This isn’t you. I can tell. I can show you how to make real money.”

  That’s when I became an adult actress or what you’d probably call a porn star. Well, star isn’t exactly accurate. I did get a lot of views on the pay sites and won a few amateur awards.”

  I love how Tension tilts his head. He’s catching on. He knows me. He’s seen my work. He’s jacked off to me before. I can tell. I can always tell. And I love it.

  Tension snapped his fingers and nodded his head.

  “Stormy Winters,” he said. “Holy shit. You’re Stormy Winters.”

  “You’ve seen my work,” I said.

  I’ve always felt weird calling it my work. Like I’d painted a Picasso or something. My work. You’ve seen my pussy is what I should have said.

  Tension blushed and set his hand over his eyes, rubbing at his temples. I looked at the crotch of his pants and saw that the length of his cock had grown and was now very present along his inner thigh, pressing against his slacks.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “I’ve…I’ve seen your work. Who hasn’t?”

  I opened my legs more, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see into the dark shadows of my dress but that he wanted to. Sure enough, his eyes drifted to the opening and stayed there.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  His eyes were glossy. I figured it must’ve been a mix between exhaustion and arousal. He was very into what he was seeing in front of him and I knew, without a doubt, that he was replaying some of my videos in his head, wondering if he had a chance to make one of them a reality.

  My heart thudded in my chest as I waited for his answer. If he said yes, I would offer him a tuna sandwich. If he said no, I’d open my legs wider and toy with him some more.

  “I’m…I’m fine,” he said.

  “Oh I know you’re fine,” I replied as I spread my legs wider and slid forward in my seat, letting my pussy lips grind against the cushion.

  He focused on me and I loved the lost expression on his face. I was breaking him. He wasn’t the hardened cop he’d been when he came into my house. Now he was just hardened.

  “Why did you change your name?” he asked. “To Sunshine?”

  “I’m going to tell you all about that. Sunshine was a name given to me by someone special. But I was, as you said, Stormy Winters.”

  “I was very good on screen. As you might already know. But I wasn’t happy. Not really. I loved the sex. I mean who wouldn’t love going to work every day to do what you love to do most? When it came to sex, I got to try it all. Girl on girl, double penetration, anal…you name it. I came every single day, I squirted sometimes, and I t
ook the money shot like a pro.

  I dated some porn stars, I was friends with many, and I even mentored some. It was my life and through all the shit that I liked, there was this growing sadness inside, like a dark cloud…a Stormy Winter. I hit bottom when I started falling for one of my co-stars, Alex Thump. Well, that’s how you’d know him. He was Eric to me. I loved him. We did a lot of films together and even through all the shots that looked uncomfortable or aggressive, Eric was a gentleman with me. Once when one of the sound guys was rude to me, Eric punched him.