Sunday, November 20, 2011

Sunday Snog: A Breed Apart

My snog today is taken from A Breed Apart, published by Coming Together in their Tabooty series. After being seduced by the rakish son of her aristocratic employers, Joan has no hope of obtaining another place as a governess with a respectable family. Despite the peculiar wording of the advertisement ("seeking a woman of experience - no references required"), her desperate circumstances force her to accept a position at isolated Hawthorne Manor, on the wild West Yorkshire moors. Rachel and Peter Hawthorne, her new employers, turn out to be a handsome couple who are far younger than Joan had expected. Joan cannot decide whether the impropriety of their public behavior toward one another is real, or a product of her own lustful imagination.

All sales of A Breed Apart benefit the Coalition for Positive Sexuality.

Don't forget to visit Victoria Blisse's Snog page, read her offering, then follow the links to the other author snogs!

I stood before their door as I had on previous nights, transfixed by the crest and fall of their passion. "Harder! Faster!" Rachel cried. I imagined her spread-eagle under Peter's lithe form. I could almost feel the force of his manhood driving into the hungry space between my legs. I plunged my fingers into my soaked quim, wishing that I were she.

My imagination took over, painting lurid pictures of my own ravishment. My fingers simulated the rough thrusts I imagined Peter delivering. In my mind, his wife watched eagerly, playing with her breasts while her roguish spouse despoiled me.

Lost in my fantasy, edging ever closer to my crisis, I did not notice the lull in their salacious symphony. Only when the door opened, revealing my gasping, half-clad form to Rachel's amused eyes, did I realize that my own vocalizations had given me away.

"Joan," she murmured. Shame leaped up to consume me. I snatched my hand from my cunny, miserably aware that my woman-scent hung in the air like the exhalation of a beach at low tide. "Come in, darling. We've been expecting you."

She grasped my wrist and drew me into their chamber. I was too stupefied by embarrassment to resist. Her skin was pure satin on my bare arm, the most delicious sensation I'd ever experienced. It was some moments before I realized that she was completely and gloriously naked.

"I - I - I'm sorry," I stuttered. "I didn't - please excuse - the door...."

"Hush," she said, enforcing her command by pressing her lips to mine.

Lightning arced down my spine. Thunder beat in my ears. I would have collapsed had she not crushed me to her pillowy breasts. Her ripe mouth tasted of strawberries and rain. Her tongue wriggled between my lips like the Biblical serpent, tempting me with new knowledge. A part of me watched, horrified, as I allowed her to deepen the kiss, screaming warnings when I circled her trim waist and stroked the silken firmness of her swelling buttocks.

I refused to listen. When she slipped her hand inside my wrap and pinched my nipple, I moaned into her mouth and ground my pubis against hers. She laughed like a naughty child. Taking my hand once more, she guided it to the soft curls that shielded her sex. It was like touching myself. I burrowed into that damp nest, seeking the hot, hard bead of flesh I knew I'd find there. She gasped, sucking my breath into her lungs, as new liquid gushed around my probing fingers.

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