Roxanne G., author of “I’m Just Not That Kind of a Girl: a sadistic basic bitch story,” and “I Drank Vodka While Pregnant: confessions of a nice girl” is back and more depraved than ever.  Her latest novel — a modern retelling of “Snow White” — is almost ready for publication, here are a few excerpts to whet your appetite for smut.

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Reality snapped back when the women arrived to ask for their car.

“Excuse me, could you bring our car around?” Solana asked, handing the valet her ticket.

“Certainly, ma’am,” the valet replied, taking the ticket. He turned to retrieve their keys but hesitated, fumbling through the set as his eyes kept drifting back to the two women. “So, um, how was the performance?” he asked, his voice unsteady as he continued searching for the key.

“It was fantastic,” Solana replied, glancing at Tierra. “My daughter was the star of the show.”

Tierra dipped her head, her dimples deepening as a blush spread across her cheeks.

“I’m sure you were amazing,” said the valet, finally finding the key. “I wish I could have seen it.”

Tierra giggled at his compliment, her eyes brightening as they met his. “Thanks,” she said.

He looked away, but not before she caught his nervous, lingering glance. Oh, this is going to be fun… she thought, biting her lip just enough to draw his attention back. Watching his fingers tug at the edge of his jacket, she felt a wicked thrill. Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance. She let the silence stretch, enjoying every moment of his discomfort as she played with the tension between them.

“Maybe you’ll be in the audience next time?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, maybe next time.” Did I just say that? he thought, cringing at how awkward he sounded. He forced a smile, avoiding her eyes as he stepped back, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. She’s totally out of my league…

Solana caught the exchange and gave the valet a look of cold amusement. When she turned to Tierra, her daughter flashed her a quick What, Mom? smile. Solana shook her head. Like mother, like daughter, she mused.

The valet hurried to retrieve their car, a sleek black sedan. As he slid into the driver’s seat, the women’s scent enveloped him—a blend of floral perfume and warm, feminine musk that made him imagine what they might smell like up close.

He inhaled, savoring the aroma. The scent was making his brain short-circuit, filling his head with all sorts of salacious thoughts. He imagined burying his face between Tierra’s breasts, breathing in her essence as he tasted her flesh…

The blare of a horn snapped him back to reality. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog as he drove out of the lot and parked their car by the curb.

He exited and nearly tripped getting around to the passenger side, his eyes glued to the sight of Solana and Tierra locked in a tender embrace.

He continued to stare as the two women approached, still holding each other close. The way their bodies moved together was mesmerizing – Solana’s curves pressed against Tierra’s slender frame, their hips swaying in tandem with each step.

He opened the passenger side door, his hand quivering as he gripped the handle. “Here you are, miss,” he said in a tone that sounded like a high-pitched Muppet.

Tierra returned the favor with a coy smile. “Thank you,” she said as she moved to enter the vehicle.

The valet nearly choked on his own breath. As she lowered herself into the car, his vantage point gave him a bird’s eye view of her bouncing cleavage, and the slit in her gown parted further, revealing her shapely leg all the way up to her stocking top.

Noticing just how much leg she was showing, Tierra’s slender fingers closed around the silky fabric, tugging it over her exposed thigh. She looked up at the valet through her lashes, who stood rooted to the spot, her eyes sending a clear message: Show’s over. Are you going to shut the door? The silent command sent him into a tizzy.

Solana cleared her throat, startling the valet from his tawdry thoughts. He glanced up to find her watching him with a knowing smirk, one arched brow raised.

“Careful not to drool.” Solana’s eyes sparkled with mischief, letting him know she was quite aware of the effect she and her daughter had on men like him.

The valet felt his face flush hot with embarrassment at being caught ogling Tierra’s boobs and leg like a lecherous schoolboy. He shut the door and quickly moved around to the driver’s side, scrambling to open the door for Solana.

Solana paused as she reached the door, turning to face the valet. With a playful smile, she retrieved a crisp $10 bill from a side pocket in her purse and pressed it into his hand, her fingers lingering against his skin before slipping away. “Thank you for your service tonight.”

The valet’s fingers went limp, barely able to hold onto the tip. “It was my pleasure.”

As Solana eased into the car, her shirtdress slid up over her knees. The front slit parted like curtains on a stage, inch by inch, as she turned to hand Tierra her purse. The valet’s eyes widened as more of her legs came into view.

“Damn it,” Solana snapped as the phone slipped from her hands and tumbled under the seat. She tried to reach for it but couldn’t bend far enough. So with the casual grace of a 1940s pinup, she swung one leg into the car while straightening the other for leverage, the spread of her legs hiking her skirt up to her stocking tops. She held the pose with the poise of a gymnast as she bobbed her head up and down in search of the phone.

The valet was awestruck by every shift and contortion of her legs as she adjusted her balance to find her phone. Reaching further under her seat, her legs parted a bit more. His crotch tightened as he caught a glimpse of something silver peeking out from the shadowy recess between her thighs. The lacy fabric of her panties seemed to wink at him, beckoning him to explore what lay beneath. Come home, Jason, come home to mommy… he thought he heard.

“You okay, Mom?” Tierra asked.

“Yeah, stupid thing is just stuck,” she replied as she dipped her head lower. “Got it,” she said as she emerged with a victorious smile.

Glancing down, Solana was surprised by how much of her legs were on display. With a faint smile, she shifted her weight and slid fully into the car, bringing her left leg in to join the right. She began to pull her dress down, like a burlesque dancer drawing the curtains on a risqué performance.

The valet watched with rapt attention as the hem of her dress inched lower. It was exquisite torture, to have such intimate beauty revealed and then hidden away again. Tierra’s lips parted as she noticed the valet’s bulge twitching like a starving rabid animal trying to escape confinement.

Solana paused when the dress reached her knees, letting the moment stretch out. Then, with a coquettish tilt of her head, she tugged and smoothed out the fabric over her knees, restoring her modesty.

Settled into the driver’s seat, she turned to the valet, who still stood holding the car door, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed. She smiled indulgently, enjoying the dazed, worshipful expression on his face. It was a look she knew well—the look of a man so intoxicated by desire he struggled to string two thoughts together.

“Are you planning to shut that door anytime soon, sweetheart?”

“Uh, yes—sorry about that.”

After the door clicked shut, Solana caught his eye and winked. They both knew what kind of thoughts would be running through his head later, and that knowledge sent a wave of satisfaction through her. She knew she’d be on his mind long after she drove away, and she liked that just fine.

As Solana pulled the car away from the curb, she glanced over at Tierra with a naughty grin. Tierra returned it, her eyes animated with suppressed laughter.

“And that, my dear, is how it’s done,” Solana said, giving Tierra a playful nudge, triggering their burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Did you see his face?” Tierra giggled, clutching her stomach. “I thought he was going to faint!”

“He certainly got an eyeful, didn’t he? I don’t think he’ll be forgetting that little show anytime soon.”

Tierra shook her head. “You’re terrible, Mom. That poor guy probably had to go take a cold shower after that.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be thinking about it for quite a while,” Solana said with a wicked smirk. “We definitely gave him plenty of material to work with tonight.”

Tierra blushed at the implication, but a thrill raced through her at the thought. There was something so exhilarating about wielding that kind of sexual power, about reducing a man to a mess of an idiot with just a flash of skin and a sultry look. It made her feel invigorated, alive in a way few other things did.

Reading her daughter’s thoughts, Solana reached over and gave Tierra’s thigh a squeeze. “Feels good, doesn’t it, knowing you can drive a man wild with wanting you?”

Tierra fell silent.  It does feel good.  The idea of having such sexual power over men was at once thrilling and a little frightening. She thought back to the hungry stares that had followed her and her mother as they left the opera house, the way the valet’s eyes had devoured her.  What do they want from me, what do they want to do to me? 

Sensing Tierra’s hesitation, Solana turned toward her with a gentle smile. “Hey, how about we grab some ice cream to celebrate your big moment?”

Tierra’s nodded, her eyes brightening. “Yes, please!”

*******

Solana sighed, glancing at the clock. Shit, she thought, realizing she’d been so busy with work that she forgot to pick out an outfit for the special evening. She gave Tierra a kiss on the cheek. “Give me a moment to change, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Tierra nodded, her eyes following her mother as she scurried to her bedroom. Solana’s mind buzzed as she stepped into her changing area, fingers brushing past her usual work attire and casual wear. She needed something special for the evening, an outfit that would make her feel confident and proud standing beside her daughter.

She pulled out a sleek black shirtdress, the silk material cool and smooth under her fingers. A bit on the casual side for what the evening calls for, she thought, but she didn’t have the time or energy for a more formal outfit. I can make this work, she told herself as she draped it over the chaise and kicked off her heels, sighing in relief as her tired feet sank into the plush rug.

Reaching behind her waist, she unhooked the clasp and unzipped her skirt. With a wiggle and a tug, it dropped to the floor. She stepped out of it and moved toward the mirror.

Standing before her reflection, she began unbuttoning her blouse, working from top to bottom. As the center parted, her silver lace-trimmed bra came into view, followed by the gentle curve of her ribcage and the flat expanse of her stomach. With a shrug, the blouse slipped from her shoulders, down her arms, and into her waiting hand, which then tossed it onto the chaise.

Solana paused, scrutinizing her reflection for signs of age. She studied her breasts, cupping their weight from below and giving each a gentle lift and tap. Shifting her hands over the mounds, she felt the way they filled her palms and held their shape. Still perky. Tracing the lines of her cleavage, she wondered how long this defiance of gravity would last.

Where the lace ended, smooth, creamy skin began, interrupted only by the slender straps that curved over her shoulders. Solana’s eyes traced the line of her shoulders, still proud of the youthful posture she maintained. Her back was straight, her shoulders pulled back, accentuating the curve of her collarbone and the hollow where her neck met her chest. The thought of standing any other way—less poised, less graceful—made her shudder with disgust.

Her eyes drifted to her stomach as she tightened her abdominal muscles, revealing subtle lines and ridges. Feeling playful, she pushed her belly out as far as she could, rounding it into a small bump. A girlish giggle escaped her lips as she poked at the slight swell, amused by the jiggle of flesh. She pinched the protrusion, shaping the skin into a crooked mouth.

Better watch out, Solana, or you’ll end up just like this, she imagined it saying.

Letting her stomach return to its natural state, her hands glided to her hips. She tugged at the waistband of her panties, pulling it up just enough to make the contours of her intimate folds more pronounced, then shifted her hips to adjust the fit for comfort as the material settled against her skin. She smiled, pleased that the same fit was just as perfect today as it had been when she was her daughter’s age—still snug, still flattering.

She turned to check her butt in the mirror, admiring how the panties framed her curves, emphasizing their pertness. Her hands glided over the rounded flesh, giving it a squeeze and enjoying the bouncy feel of the supple skin. “You’re such a tease,” she murmured as she delivered a playful slap. The unexpected sting made her hips jolt as she let out a yelp and giggled with delight.

Solana returned to face the mirror, her hands drifting down until her fingertips grazed the bands of her stockings. She traced the edges, taking pleasure in the sensory contrast between the smooth nylon and her supple skin. With the poise of a ballerina, she lifted her right heel and pointed her toes into the floor. In one fluid motion, she eased the stocking down her leg before gliding it back up, the band settling on her upper thigh with a soft snap. Stretching her leg, she ran her palms over the fabric, checking for snags. The seamless whisper of her caress confirmed there were none.

Finished with the other leg, Solana straightened her posture and reached for the black dress draped over the bed. She slipped it on, threading her lean arms through the sleeves that ended just above her biceps.  The dress settled on her body, the open front framing a narrow strip of skin from collar to just below her knees.

She fastened the first button just above her chest, pulling the fabric together to leave only a hint of cleavage. The silk stretched over the curve of her breasts as she secured the second button, the material molding to their pert shape. The third button drew the panels of the skirt across her hips, leaving the fabric parted below, framing the tapered lines of her legs.

Her hands moved lower, cinching the dress around her waist, the cloth highlighting the curve of her butt as the hem settled just below her knees. With the final button secured, she straightened and stepped back to review her reflection, turning in front of the mirror as her heels lifted with each shift.

Solana scanned her wall of shoes. The black stilettos will complete the look. Lowering herself onto the edge of the chaise, she slipped her right foot into the shoe, pressing down gently to feel the snug fit around her arch and heel. Her toes wiggled, adjusting as the soft leather conformed to them. She repeated the motion with her left foot, her arches settling into the curve of the stilettos. With both shoes on, she flexed her toes once more, settling into the fit before rising to her feet.

Standing tall, she felt the subtle shift in her posture, the stilettos lifting her chest and tilting her hips into a sinuous line. Lifting the hem of her skirt to mid-thigh, she admired her legs, lengthened by the heels, muscles tightening with each slight turn. Her cheeks lifted as she returned to the mirror, a cold glint in her eyes as she took in her reflection.

Reaching for a brush, she began smoothing her dark hair, her wrist moving in slow, rhythmic strokes. With each pass, her head tilted gently to one side, her hair falling in soft waves just below her shoulders.

She paused, fingers combing through the strands as her eyes searched for any trace of gray. A soft sigh slipped past her lips when she found one, her brow furrowing before she plucked it out. Her focus returned to the way her hair framed her face, as if the momentary flaw had never existed. But no brush could erase the deeper truths etched into her features.

Her face, arresting in its haunting beauty, still compelled second glances—drawing people in while leaving them unsettled. Where youthful exuberance once animated her features, her high cheekbones now exuded a calm, regal grace. Her large almond-shaped eyes, formerly doe-like, now held an elusive coldness—the legacy of trust betrayed and illusions shattered. The mouth that had once curved effortlessly into smiles now rested in a straighter line, a silent testament to disappointments weathered and expectations unmet.

With a final glance of the mirror, Solana smoothed the dress over her hips. She exhaled, centering herself. I still have it, ladies and gentlemen, bitches and perverts. She stepped out of the room, her heels striking a confident rhythm on the hardwood floor.