Sunday Snog: Limbo

Greetings! This week, I'm sharing a snippet from the story "Limbo", one of eight in my new BDSM collection Just a Spanking, which will be released exclusively on Amazon (and free to Amazon Prime readers) in a few days. If you like the cover - well, I think you'll love the stories themselves!

Don't forget to visit Victoria Blisse, the grande madame of snogs, and read her very naughty excerpt. Then you can hop on from there to savor lots more sexy kisses from other authors.

By the way, the kiss in this excerpt is pretty brief - that doesn't limit the intensity, though.

"Hey, birthday boy, how about some candles?" You're suddenly on your back and I'm straddling you, fishing multicolored candles out of thin air and igniting them with a breath from pursed lips. I hold each one briefly over your body, dripping the wax onto your skin and watching you squirm. You are cheering up already. I use the wax to stick each candle onto your skin, until your chest and belly are a glittering array of flickering flames.

I raise myself up and graze my pubic hair across your swollen cock-head. You struggle unsuccessfully to remain still. Droplets of searing paraffin rain down on your flesh. "Make a wish," I whisper. Then I sink down onto your hardness, burying you deep inside me.

I feel the flames licking at my thighs. Your cock is a candle, lighting me from within. We are melting into one, connected at last, finally fucking, finally making love. Our bodies flow, merging, mingling. We become indistinct, clouds of light, arrows of fire, flesh evaporating in the brilliance of our joining.

I feel a pull, a heaviness. My body is calling me back. There's time for one kiss, one whisper. "I'm yours. Always."

I open my eyes to a raging headache. The glare of the processing chamber is agony, though it's no brighter than our incandescent coupling. Side effects. I don't mind. It was worth it. I am secretly thrilled, full of wonder at the success of our encounter.

When I try to sit up, I discover that my whole body aches. I can't help smiling to myself, remembering other assignations with you. The technician rummages in the closet for my clothing. I surreptitiously check my buttocks. No stripes. Ah well, what did I expect?

The mistress of the place bows to me as I leave. Her eyes glitter. She senses that I will be back.

I'll email this narrative to you tomorrow, as you requested. You will want to compare notes. You'll probably tell me that I imagined it all. Or perhaps not. In any case, I know what's real. I've just tasted reality. On your lips. Again.