Thursday, July 30, 2015

Reader Survey Results - Part 1

My reader survey ended on Saturday, and I’ve been poring over the very interesting results. As promised, I’ll share the highlights here on my blog. It’s going to take a couple of posts, since there were more than thirty questions in the survey. Some of the results surprised meand encouraged me.

First of all, though, I want to thank everyone who participated, and to congratulate Kelly, who won the grand prize of a $50 gift certificate. A lucky girl indeed!

I received a total of 201 responses. Of course this isn’t a random sample, since I recruited respondents from my mailing list plus asked my fellow authors (who likely have similar tastes to me, and write in similar genres) to publicize the survey. On the other hand, out of the 170 odd people who included their emails, I’d say at least a third were unfamiliar. Also, in answering my open-ended question “What’s the first thing you think of when you hear the name ‘Lisabet Sarai’?” quite a few people said, “Nothing. I’ve never heard of you before.”! So I clearly did reach some new readers.

The first two questions asked “On average how many books do you read per month?” and “On average, how many books do you buy per month?”

Here are the summary results:

Read: average 11.7, minimum 1, maximum 75
Bought: average 10, minimum 0, maximum 145

(I’ve got to figure out who is buying more than 100 books per month, and get them on my list LOL!)

In later questions, some readers indicated they only borrow books from the library or download free books, but on the other hand it seems the some people have a serious backlog of books they’ve bought but not read yet! This agrees with answers I’ve gotten on smaller and less formal surveys. Some people have told me that they’re really losing ground, with hundreds of unread books in their stack.

Good for authors, of course...

I then asked where they got most of their books. Up to three sources could be selected. Here’s a summary of the results in graphical form.



Amazon dominates, but it’s nice to see that physical bookstores are still holding their own, and both Barnes & Noble and All Romance have their fans. This question had an “other – specify option”, and I received quite a few responses, including Bookstrand, Audible, Harlequin, free books for reviews, free book offers, library sales, etc.

Publisher websites get more attention than I'd expected, more than B&N. I should probably have asked which publishers. 

I should mention that a few readers said they would never buy anything from Amazon. And in a later question about factors influencing purchase, several respondents said that where the book was available made a significant difference.

For the next question, I asked what fraction of the books they read were ebooks. For this population, e-reading clearly dominates print (though obviously some people are buying print as well, and about 8% are print-only fans).


The majority of people reading ebooks do so on dedicated devices like a Kindle or Nook, as shown in the following graph, but other mobile devices and even laptops still have some adherents.


Next I tried to get a handle on what lengths people preferred. I asked them to rate a set of lengths, from the ones they liked most (rated 1) to least (rated 5). Despite what some people have claimed about the attention span of today’s readers, longer works tend to be preferredthough every length has some adherents. Short stories are the least popular, followed by boxed sets.


Length12345
Short stories
(fewer than 20 pages)
8.63%11.68%8.63%23.86%47.21%
Novellas
(between 20 and 100 pages)
6.09%15.23%34.52%36.55%7.61%
Short novels
(between 100 and 200 pages)
15.23%37.56%27.92%13.71%5.58%
Long novels
(more than 200 pages)
61.93%15.74%7.61%11.17%3.55%
Boxed sets or collections
(multiple novels per set)
8.12%19.80%21.32%14.72%36.04%

One issue that concerned me was whether my results would be skewed only toward people who read erotica or erotic romance. So I asked what percentage of the books they read fell into these categories.

The mean was 67.2 percent—so yes, erotic work is popular—but the range was huge, from a minimum of 0 to a maximum of 100. (The standard deviation, if you know what that means, was almost 30.)

My personal answer to this question would probably be about 50%, by the way.

The final set of results I’ll share in this post have to do with the importance of various factors in determining a reader’s enjoyment. I’ve read some comments by readers (especially erotic romance readers) that suggested all they really care about are the characters. Certainly, the respondents in the survey find that characters are critical as shown in the graph below.



In the past, I’ve felt quite discouraged by this. In my own work, I’m at least as concerned with providing an original premise and an engaging plot, as well as with the clarity, beauty and emotional impact of the writing itself. (I seek these as a reader, too.) However, I have worried that readers don’t really care about any of these things. Based on the results of the survey, I’m wrong.





Plot is as important as characters. More than fifty percent of respondents find that creativity or originality strongly affects their enjoyment. And a whopping seventy five percent say style is very important!

I believe that a significant subset of the respondents were authors (who obviously would respect and value writing style). Still, I have to say I’m quite relieved. When I read some of the (pardon my French) crappy writing published these days, I worry that all the effort I put into my work will have zero effect on readers.

Clearly that’s not true. Of course, this doesn’t say anything about sales...!

Anyway, that’s enough for now. I’ll continue my discussion of the results next week.


Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Finding Happiness with Your Spouse

By Anita Philmar (Guest Blogger)

Looking for the secret to a happy marriage? Here are some suggestions from my experience!

Share a common dream – when two people joined together to reach a unified goal. It connects them in ways that inspires trust. This can be as simple as planning a vacation or deciding on a new car, or as big as having a family.

Choose each other as your first family – once two people get married they both need to remember that the other person should now become their main concern. This is not to say you avoid his or her family but that you need time alone together.

Learn how to fight right – It can be easy to take your stress out on your spouse. Try to recognize those times when you are not at your best, then warn your partner you need time to regroup before discussing certain subjects.
Find a balance between time for two and time for you – Just because you are now with someone doesn’t mean you can’t have time for yourself. Each of you came into the relationship with interest that attracted the other. You still need that creative outlet to fuel your soul. Give yourself the time for yourself so you can be the person your spouse fell in love with.

Build a best friendship – if the two of you can become best friends then you’ll be closer to achieve the relationship you both want and can face down the major challenge in your life together.

When writing my books I try to take these things into account. In Hot Prairie Nights, the couple come together to run Elizabeth Murphy’s ranch, but there is so much more involved than just a common goal.

It’s a hard life living on the western plains. Elizabeth Murphy knows she lives it every day.

Then just like some medieval knight in shining armor, a stranger arrives at her door. He claims to be a friend, who is down on his luck and looking for work.

Just looking at him sets her body on fire, and with them sharing a small log cabin, the nights are bound to heat up. Can she resist the chance to take a ride with the cowboy? Or should she trust him at all?

After all, he thinks wearing a shirt is an optional item and he knows way too many facts about her dead gun slinging husband.

Excerpt

The thought didn’t inspire warmth. Instead, she lifted her gun. “My husband was a gun-slinging gambler. He didn’t have the most reputable friends.”

A slight smirk passed over the man’s lips. He nodded. “Yes, but I knew him as a child back in Oklahoma. Heath Holmes is the name. I’m sure Daniel mentioned me once or twice.”

The name did sound familiar. What had Daniel said about Heath?

She licked her lips and fought the hunger to see this man’s strong muscular body naked and up close. She stared at his mount to gather more information. His black horse had the markings of a thoroughbred. The detail design of his saddle, and the rich quality of the man’s clothes spoke of someone who had money. So why visit her here?

I recall the name, but Daniel didn’t particularly enjoy his childhood. His mother didn’t provide him with a great upbringing.” Lizzy lowered her gun to her waist but kept the barrel pointed at Heath. Could she trust him?

True, at times he would have starved, if not for my family, but then with six mouths to feed, what was one more?” Heath swung his leg over the saddle and stepped down from his horse, and turned.

Lizzie’s mouth watered and her palms slipped on the gun. She rested the butt of her rifle on the porch railing for fear of firing it off accidentally. Thoughts of what Daniel has said about his youth warred with her desire to get to know Heath better. Her gaze slid down his six foot frame, broad shoulders, full chest, trim waist, and thick thighs. Nothing about him seemed to hint at him not being able to take on any task.

Right, Daniel did mention his mother’s love of whiskey and how your family was his saving grace.” Lizzy waved him over to the barn. “Why don’t you unsaddle your horse and put him in the corral? There’s a pump next to the water trough if you want to clean up and stay a spell?”

Pick up Hot Prairie Nights for free, everywhere



About Anita

Anita Philmar likes to create stories that push the limit. A writer by day and a dreamer by night she wants her readers to see the world in a new way.
Influenced by sci-fi programs, she likes to develop places where anything can happen and where erotic moments come to life in a great read.

Naughty or Nice?

Read her books and decide.

Email: anitaphilmar [at] yahoo [dot] com

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Review Tuesday: Only One Man Will Do by Fiona McGier

Only One Man Will Do by Fiona McGier
Eternal Press, 2013

Alexandra Blackstone lives a double life. During the week, she’s the tough-as-nails CEO of a top marketing firm in Minneapolis. On weekends, she dons her leathers, mounts her Harley and heads for the country to become Alex, flame-haired queen of a biker gang into hard riding, hard drinking and no-holds-barred group sex. In both roles, Alexandra is on top, and that’s the way she likes it.

Her prodigious sexual appetite can’t be satisfied by a single man, or so she believes, until she meets Dimitri Illyanovitch. The charming, infuriating Russian with the shadowy background challenges her in every way. His sexual stamina and erotic ingenuity keep her coming back for more, even though she’s convinced she’ll tire of him eventually, as she has of all her other favorites. Then there’s his gourmet cooking—not to mention his expert massages! Even as Alex worries that she’s giving the ex-KGB agent the wrong idea about a possible future, she can’t stop reacting to his burly physicality.

For Dimitri, searching out Alex’s secret identity was just business, fulfilling a favor for an influential friend. Their first carnal encounter, on Alex’s desk, is enough to change everything. In the sensual, bossy red-head he recognizes his perfect partner—a woman who’s smart, passionate and dedicated to living her life on her own terms. He wants to be the only man in that life, her permanent lover and comrade.

When her father jettisoned her mother for a young trophy wife, though, Alex swore she’d never belong to any man. Even the most ecstatic sex on the planet isn’t enough to convince her to give up her polyandrous ways and settle down. What will it take for Dimitri to change her mind?

Only One Man Will Do is hotter than Hades and hugely entertaining. What vicarious fun, being in Alexandra’s head (and voluptuous body)! She’s a kick-ass heroine who can be ruthless, but ultimately turns out to care deeply for her gang and for Dimitri. As for the Russian charmerMs. McGier is fond of saying that she writes beta heroes, but I don’t see anything beta about Dimitri, unless it’s the fact that he’s a whiz in the kitchen. I’d fall in love with him in a minute, but then I’m not as stubborn as Ms. Blackstone.

A good deal of the book is devoted to the wild, delicious sex that Alex and Dimitri share. I was impressed by the variety Ms. McGier included in the sex scenes, despite the fact that all were heterosexual and vanilla. Her protagonists have a phenomenal capacity for pleasure that reminds me of my younger, wilder days.

Ms. McGier’s writes clean, careful prose that moves the story forward at a brisk pace. Although the POV alternates rather frequently between Dimitri and Alex, there’s none of the confusion associated with head-hopping. My most serious complaint about the book’s craft relates to the treatment of secondary characters. There are several scenes early in the book that involve members of biker gang, but they’re treated more or less as faceless extras. In the second half of the novel, though, the identities and personalities of her cohorts suddenly become important to the plot, and all at once they turn into distinct individuals. This felt somewhat awkward to me. It would have been smoother to have developed these characters from the beginning.

Overall, though, I really enjoyed Only One Man Will Do. It’s a sexy and satisfying romance especially recommended if you’re tired of doormat heroines! I strongly identified with Alex. I too believed I could never be happy with just one man. For once, I was glad to be proved wrong, and so, ultimately, is she.

Monday, July 27, 2015

Sneak Peek: Laird of Her Heart by Sabrina York

[You're going to love this one! ~ Lisabet] 




Laird of Her Heart
Book One in the Dundragon Trilogy by Sabrina York

When Maggie Spencer is mysteriously transported to the Scotland of her ancestors, she is stunned to come face to face with him. Dominic Dundragon, the man she’s been half in love with her whole life. A man who’s been dead for 700 years.

They both have enemies aplenty. Will she have a chance to win his love, or will this adventure end in disaster?

Read an excerpt

Maggie yelped as, without warning, the burly warrior named Declan whipped her up into his arms and tossed her over his shoulder. To her horror, she lost the hold on her locket.

Wait,” she cried. She wriggled to get free, but his grip was too hard. When she pummeled his back with her fists as he strode from the circle of stones, he chuckled. The beast. But to be fair, he was so large, it would have felt like a kitten batting him. “Put me down.”

I willna,” he said. “The Mackintosh will decide how you die.”

All right. That shut her up. For a minute. “Die? Why do I need to die?” What the hell had she done to him?

The man following, an enormous blond with a scar tracking his cheek bent down to peer at her. “The Mackintosh’s doona tolerate spies.”

I’m not a spy.” Seriously. She wriggled more and Declan smacked her ass.

Smacked her ass.

She’d kill him when she got free. Just kill him.

Yer wearing the Cameron colors,” the blond said. “And the Mackintosh’s doona—”

Right. I know. The Mackintosh’s doona tolerate spies.” Her head was starting to spin from being upside down and jounced around with each step. Her temper was on a short leash. “But honestly, if I were a spy, would I wear the Cameron colors? It seems a little counterproductive in my opinion. I mean, if I’m spying and all. I might as wear a sign that says, oh, I dunno, honk if you love spies.”

His brow rumpled but he didn’t respond. At least, not to her. “She speaks strangely,” he complained to Declan.

Her captor snorted a laugh. “She dresses strangely too.”

Aye. She does at that. I’ve heard the Cameron lasses are a wild lot, but I had no idea—”

I’m. Not. A. Cameron.” She reached out and smacked the blond, but only because he came close enough. He reared back and gaped at her—as though he’d never been smacked before—and then he quickly moved out of range.

It hardly mattered, because, apparently, they had reached their destination, a camp on the edge of the woods. The sounds of nickering horses and clanks of pots gave her her first clue—she was facing the other way, after all.

Her second clue was that Declan dropped her on the ground. She landed with an oof. She glared at him. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Go get my brother, Ewan,” he barked, and the blond trotted off to one of the larger tents.

When she stood and brushed off her jeans, Declan bristled and she shot him a sardonic glare. Did he think she was stupid enough to run away? For one thing, these enormous men had her surrounded. For another, she never ran. Not if she could help it.

Instead, she made a quick survey of her surroundings. The camp was little more than a huddle of tents with the forest on one side and a sweeping plain on the other. A small herd of horses were hobbled to one side and a deer roasted over a pit fire. An entire deer. Before she could silence the thought—she often had that problem—she said, “You killed Bambi.”

Declan’s brow rumpled. “I dinna kill anyone.” And then he asked, “Who is Bambi?”

Never mind.” She crossed her arms and turned away pretending to ignore them. But she wasn’t. She was aware they were all staring at her like she was a curiosity in a zoo, but she was taking in tiny details as well. Like the fact that their clothes were all handmade and simple. Their hair appeared to have been cut with a chainsaw and their beards were scraggly and long. Their weapons were what made her mind really start to spin though.

One held a crossbow that dated from the thirteenth century. Another had a Mackintosh dirk that resembled one she’d seen in a museum once. Declan had a simple calfskin sporran tied to his belt.

Odd. Could she have wandered into some renaissance faire? But no. It had been evening when she stepped into the woods and now it was daytime. Early afternoon. And the acres of woods around the house belonged to the family. It couldn’t be—

So.” She flinched as a deep, melodious voice wafted to her on a hint of humor. Shivers danced through her, along with a prickling sense of premonition. “You’ve captured a Cameron spy?”

She turned slowly and froze as her gaze landed on him. On that so-familiar face. Broad, handsome, savage. Much more captivating than the sketch had been. Much more captivating by far.

She must be hallucinating. She had to be.

He was the hero of her dreams come to life.

Dominic Dundragon, Laird of the Mackintosh clan.

Large, looming and in the flesh.

Her head went woozy. Her vision blurred. And then, for the first time in her life, she fainted.

GET IT NOW!


ABOUT SABRINA YORK

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching romance. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests.



Get exclusive reads, enter subscriber only contests and be the first to know about coming books!

CONNECT


If you love hot highlanders, be sure to read Sabrina York’s Untamed Highlanders from St. Martin’s Press!


Lana and the Laird—Coming in 2016


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Sunday Snog #184: Naked in Varanasi

Happy Sunday!

I’ve got an intense oral excerpt for you today, from “Naked in Varanasi”, one of the stories in my paranormal collection FourthWorld. It sort of speaks for itself!

When you’re finished here, head over to Victoria’s place for more Sunday kisses.



You think too much, meri jaan.” As though conjured by his fantasies, she was suddenly there—her warm breath in his ear, her heady scent in his nostrils, stretched out beside him on the narrow mattress. Her fingers tickled his nipples then danced away to flutter over his cock. “The mind cannot lead you to release. It will only mire you further in samsara.”

He groaned as her touch, her nearness, tripled the agony he'd felt before. Her naked curves molded themselves to his angular frame. One smooth thigh settled over his, nudging his aching balls. One breast nestled plump and smooth against his chest, the taunting nipple making his mouth water.

Do not fight yourself, little one,” she murmured. “Do not fight me. You cannot win.”

Her lips, her tongue, her hands, all were busy coaxing endless varieties of sensation from his traitorous body. Now she straddled his torso, bent at the waist to nuzzle his cock, her lush ass inches from his face. Potent musk poured from her moist cleft, the distilled essence of every woman he'd ever known.

Hunger seized him. He grabbed the fleshy mounds and dragged her onto his face, plunging his tongue into her cavity.

At the same time, she swallowed his cock, pulling him deep into her throat.

He thought that he'd die from sensory overload. She held him, pinned to the bed, while she ravaged his cock. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, but he was not afraid. If he were to expire smothered by her meaty ass, drowning in her sex juice, that would be only right. She deserved to be worshiped, to have a man give up everything in order to bring her to final release.

She sucked hard. Meanwhile she gyrated on top of him, pressing her moist, elastic flesh into his mouth. Her clit felt like one of the pebbles from the temple courtyard, granite-hard and warmed by the sun. When he flicked his tongue over the node, she squirmed, loosing a new flood of lubrication that he drank up like wine.

The knob of his cock grazed her palate, triggering new ecstasy. He was closer to the edge than he'd been that morning, but somehow he knew he could hold on until he brought her to the same state. She moved back and forth on top of him, sucking in time with his thrusting tongue. Yes, that's right, he thought. Come for me, come hard. Soak me with your juice. Let me explode in your mouth. Let's go up in flames together.

He licked her into a loud, lewd frenzy. She screamed and cursed in her own language. He had forgotten the other men sleeping around them. It never occurred to him to worry that they'd wake. Fever held the two of them in its grip, making them wild and hot, sick with lust, totally insane. 
 

Saturday, July 25, 2015

The Great American Novel – Rejected and Dejected!

By Penny Estelle (Guest Blogger)

Good morning, Lisabet and all your visitors. I have a book out titled Revenge, The Cowboy Way. It’s a steamy novel that I wrote forty years ago.

I was never a reader as a child or a teen. Seems I always had better things to do. But at nineteen years of age I had my first child. When you are up 24/7 (at least that was what it seemed like) I decided to buy a book. This was the first novel I had EVER read. I picked up Rosemary Rogers’ Sweet Savage Love. I was hooked and to this day she is still one of my favorite authors.

After finishing the book I thought to myself, “I can do this! How hard can it be?” So I got out my electric typewriter and started the Great American Novel. Five years later I typed THE END. I sent out a few queries, dreaming of all the money that would soon be coming in, and I got replies that said, Thanks but no thanks. Rejected and dejected I boxed up my story and put it in my closet where it has lived for forty-some years.

I didn’t write another word until my mid fifties. As I worked in an elementary school I tried my hand at stories for the middle grade kiddos. I was lucky enough to be offered contracts on my first six stories.

It was then I decided to write a romance for adults. After having two romances picked up by different publishers, I brought my Great American Novel out of the closet. When I read it through my first thought was, “What horrific writing!”

I rewrote, edited, and shortened my story by hundreds of words. I was thrilled when Rooster and Pig Publishing sent me a contract.

Revenge, The Cowboy Way by Penny Estelle

Blurb

When Brian Thornton is taken by surprise at gunpoint, while in the bed of a beautiful, wealthy woman, he swears his revenge. But when he learns his humiliation was at the hands of a young woman and a boy, his vengeance knows no bounds.

Joanna Simmons finds herself snatched out of her home and taken to Thornton's ship. Against her will, she travels to Texas, and then by wagon train to Bastrop, Brian's home town. Joanna finds acceptance and genuine friendship with the people of the town, down to Brian's sister, but the emotional war that wages between Brian and Joanna, keeps any kind of happiness at bay.

Revenge, the Cowboy Way, is the story of hate, love and revenge. The question is whose revenge is it?

A teaser...

Brian took a long drag off of his cigarette before flicking it in the fire. “You have quite a decision to make, Jo.” He got up and spread out his bedroll, then took hers and put it on top of his as a cover. 

“Before you start taking pot shots at me, you might think about what you’ll do out here by yourself.” He undid his holster and laid it down, then slowly shucked his pants and climbed between the two bedrolls. He stretched, putting his hands behind him to cradle his head, and shut his eyes.

You said there were no Indians this far south.” She was fuming at his relaxed demeanor. He wasn’t showing any kind of fear at all.

He didn’t move. “Do you think Indians are the only danger out here? There are men out here who would sell their souls to come across a woman like you, all alone and unprotected.”

She could feel her hopes floating away, like the smoke from the fire disappearing up into the night sky. She threw the derringer at him. “I really hate you.” Joanna sniffed. She took off her shoes and then the pants Andy had given her and climbed into their bedroll, turning her back to him.

He took the gun and lobbed it next to his. “I want you to keep the derringer. Keep it on you at all times.” He gathered her tightly against his chest, and, to her surprise, that was all he did. 

Buy Links 




Rooster and Pig Publishing -


Leave me a comment with your email and you could win a free copy of my "Great American Novel"!



Penny Estelle is a best selling writer for all ages, from the early reader to adults. Her books range from pictures books for the little ones, to fantasy and time-travel adventures for ages 9 to 13. She also, under P. A. Estelle, has written adult stories including a family drama and contemporary, paranormal and historical westerns romances.

Penny was a school secretary for 21 years. She and her husband moved to their retirement home in Kingman, AZ, on very rural 54 acres, living on solar and wind only.
Penny and her books can be found in the following links:


I have a newsletter that goes out for new releases or sales. If you would like to be notified please sign up @ http://eepurl.com/388Xr



Thursday, July 23, 2015

Everybody wins around here!

Congratulations to all the readers who have been chosen as winners in my various giveaways.

Jessie has won a copy of Her Secret Ingredient for commenting on my super-hot airplane sex snog from The Ingredients of Bliss.

Tiana and Yolanda each won a $10 bookstore gift certificate in my monthly VIP Readers Giveaway.

What's that all about, you ask?

Once a month, I run a contest exclusively for the people on my VIP email list. If you'd like to join, just send me an email at lisabet [at] lisabetarai [dot] com. You'll get first notice about all my releases and contests, as well as prizes being offered by my blog guests. It's not a high volume list, rarely more than half a dozen messages per week.

And while we're talking about prizes, have you completed my reader survey yet. It closes the 25th of July. Everyone who responds gets a coupon for a free erotic romance, and one lucky individual will receive a $50 gift certificate to the bookstore of his or her choice.

To complete the survey, just click here:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/JGNFVY8

Since you've taken the time to read this far...why don't I give something else away?

Leave me a comment below and I'll enter you to win any of my D&S Duos volumes of romantic BDSM erotica. Not sure if you'd like them? Here's a quick excerpt from "Like Riding a Bicycle", in volume 4.








"Silence, Mariah. Do not speak unless I ask you a direct question."

"But..." She's beginning to understand, but she's still fighting the notion. I can see her mentally reviewing all the tasks she has remaining on today's to do list.

"Did I ask you a question?"

"No...sir." In that fraction of a second delay, between "No" and "sir", my heart sinks. What am I doing? Those days are gone. Then the honorific rolls off her tongue and my spirit soars. She remembers. My cock throbs inside my jeans. Her muscles relax. She bows her head, letting go of her rebellion, and I think for a moment I'll shoot right then and there, like the horny grad student I was when we met.

"Get over here, girl." My fifty-three year old, full professor wife seems to not find the epithet as ridiculous as it sounds to me. She crawls across the carpet, grasping my intent almost before I do. Her lovely fat ass (about which she constantly complains) is in the air. Her breasts swing beneath her. She makes her slow way to my feet, then rises to her knees once again.

Her cheeks are flushed. A barely perceptible sheen of sweat dampens her forehead. A lock of hair has worked itself loose to curl seductively under her pointed chin. Her hazel eyes meet mine for an instant. I can read her excitement and uncertainty. I nod and give in to the smile twitching at my lips. She exhales the breath she's been holding and lowers her gaze, awaiting my next command.

Power burns through me, raw and smooth as a swallow of fine Scotch. What shall I require next? I want to see her naked; should I tear her clothes off, cut them away, or make her strip for me? And then what? Alternatives fill my imagination, a delirious whirl of possibilities. I didn't plan this. I have no script.

I try to focus, to slow my own breathing and quiet my racing heart. Outwardly calm, inwardly quivering with arousal, I rise from my chair.
"Stand up, Mariah."

She hastens to obey, stepping her feet apart and clasping her hands at the small of her back. I doubt it's even conscious. It seems that she's quicker to reclaim the old knowledge than I am.

Towering over her, I remove her glasses and set them aside, out of harm's way. Then I pull her shirt over her head and toss it into a corner. Her opulent breasts sag a bit more than they used to, but the plump nipples are as juicy and brazen as ever. Who'd believe they'd nursed a child? I can't resist the urge to give them a vicious twist. Mariah gasps but otherwise remains silent.

"No bra, slut?" I tip her face up to mine, reveling in her embarrassment.

"No, sir. You told me to always be ready for you." Indeed, I had given her those instructions, a thousand years ago, when we were first discovering each other.

"Quite so. And are you wearing panties?" Without waiting for a reply, I stretch the elastic and push the shorts down over her ample hips. The rich scent of her pussy wells up from between her parted thighs. I slide one finger into her slick folds and wriggle it deep into her body. She shudders with the pleasure of it. Her knees go slack as she struggles to open her thighs and give me better access.

I snatch my hand from her cunt and slap her left breast. "Slut! A couple of simple commands and you're soaked." I suck on my finger, savoring Mariah's salty ocean flavor. "What a kinky girl you are!" I want to sink down and bury my face in the damp thicket of her pubic hair, to eat her until she writhes and screams. Not yet, though. My Dom's sense of timing is coming back, and I know this is too soon.

Instead, I turn her around and land symmetrical slaps on each of her ass cheeks. "Into the bedroom. Now!" She scampers away like a kid.

****

If you like this, let me know by leaving a comment with your email. You could win a copy.