Sunday, August 11, 2013

Sunday Snog #90: Oral Antics from Exposure

According to Victoria Blisse, the founder of the Sunday Snog tradition, snogs don't have to be mouth to mouth kisses. So today I have a very intense bit of alternative orality for you, from my erotic thriller Exposure

After you've read my snog, hop on over to Snog Central for more sexy kisses! 

Oh, and while I have your attention - Exposure and every other Books We Love title is on sale at Amazon from now until the end of August for $2.99.


Sex, blood and betrayal: it's all in a day's work

Stella is just minding her own business and having a bit of fun, working as an exotic dancer at the Peacock Lounge. Through no fault of her own, she witnesses a double murder and gets pulled into a shady dance of deceit with political bigwigs, mob bosses, dirty cops and scheming widows. Now she's everyone's target; her only chance is to sift through the lies and expose the truth.


He looks up at me, a blissful smile on his face. “I’ve been wanting to do this for nearly fifteen years, Stella. Ever since we met in ninth grade.” He pinches me, hard, and I moan in agonized ecstasy. “Do you know how many wet dreams I had, fantasizing about your incredible tits? I used to picture myself straddling you, with my cock stuffed between them, rubbing back and forth until I sprayed my jizz all over them. It never took long; half a dozen strokes was enough when your tits were involved.” 

Or sometimes, you’d do it for me. You spread yourself over my face so that I could eat you. Meanwhile, you’d be down in my groin, sucking me while you smothered my cock in your breasts. I always like to imagine the come dripping from your lips down your chest, gathering in little drops on your nipples.”

PLEASE, Jimmy! You’re driving me crazy!” Was he trying to be cruel, or was he just lost in adolescent memories? “You want to eat me? Don’t talk about it, do it! I’m begging you.”

Jimmy seems to wake from a kind of dream. “What? God—I’m sorry, Stella. I didn’t mean to neglect you.” He leans over and kisses me. I arch my back, trying to rub my clit against his body. “I’d love to eat you, sweetie. My lifelong ambition.”

He bends over, and with gentle fingers separates my lower lips. Then he blows warm air on the hot, damp flesh. I convulse, my flesh twitching. Next he touches the tip of his tongue to my rudely jutting clit. The sensation’s incredible, but it’s not enough. It’s too tentative, too delicate.

Jimmy, don’t tease me anymore!” I beg. “I need you.” I grab his head in both hands and try to force his mouth down on my cunt. But he’s strong. I can’t budge him. Gently he untangles my fingers from his hair and places my hands back on the couch. “Let me,” he says.

Then he bends to my sex and swallows me whole. He fastens his mouth on my cunt like there’s a vacuum seal. Like I’m a fruit and he’s sucking out my pulp. Like he truly wants to consume me. His lips capture my labia. His tongue probes my folds. His teeth graze my aching clit, sending bolts of pleasure arching up my spine. The suction distorts and displaces my swollen flesh, pulling me along toward my climax.

I couldn’t resist even if I wanted to. I thrash and scream, clamping my thighs around his head. Everything is dark, except for the stars whirling around my head. His saliva flows in streams down my thighs, mingled with my own juices. I am drowned, flooded, washed away.

The stars streak through the dark. Lightning strikes my sex and sizzles through me, burning everything in its path. I hear myself scream, feel my body shaking in some kind of fit. I am rising, floating, freed by the convulsions racking my flesh.

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