A Different Kind of Giving

Right now, you’re probably hanging out with your friends and family, enjoying the simple pleasures of the holiday. Maybe (if you’re lucky), it’s snowing outside. If I can interrupt your holiday cheer for a minute—imagine that it is snowing. It’s 20 degrees Fahrenheit. You’re an eight-year old kid, on your way to school, trudging through the slush —wearing nothing but a thin denim jacket the icy wind slices right through.

Not a very comfortable picture for this warm and cozy holiday. But this is reality for way too many kids, even in affluent countries like the U.S.A.

Operation Warm (http://www.operationwarm.org/) is devoted to erasing this ugly reality, one kid at a time. And this Christmas, Coming Together, the altruistic erotica imprint, is trying to help.

Today is release day for our Christmas erotica anthology, Coming Together: Keeping Warm. This great collection features stories by

Sommer Marsden, Allison Wonderland, Leigh Ellwood, Xan West, Robert Buckley, Peach Robidoux, Lynn Townsend, Annabeth Leong, Delilah Night, Jim Reader, and me (of course). Every penny we make on this book goes to buy warm coats and jackets for the poor kids who need them. 

 

It might seem like an odd way to contribute to charity—writing sexy stories. But hey, we each have to give what we can, the way we can. I don’t have the money to support worthy causes like Operation Warm the way I’d like to. So I give away my stories instead.

You’ll find a snippet from my contribution, “Slush”, at the end of this post. After you read it, won’t you click one of the links below and pick up a copy of the book? I guarantee it will give you a warm feeling—twice in fact. Once when you remember your $2.99 is keeping kids from the cold. And once when you read our sultry stories!

Buy Links

Amazon

Smashwords

And a very Merry Christmas to you all! 

 

Excerpt from “Slush” by Lisabet Sarai

He grasped her pointed little chin with his other hand to draw her closer. She didn’t resist. Now her face was mere inches away, her steel-gray eyes fixed on his. Her lips parted. Her breath came fast, in little sighing pants. He ached for that sweet, enticing mouth, an ache that drowned out the residual throbbing in his skull and even the swollen pulse of need in his groin.

He didn’t dare. He was afraid – afraid she’d pull away, afraid of screwing up something simple and perfect with his selfishness .

In the end, she made the first move, leaning toward him just enough to press her lips against his. That was enough. He released her hand to wrap his arms around her and clutch her to his chest, kissing her with a ferocity he couldn’t control. He needed this so badly – the warmth, the softness the illusion that someone cared...

Daisy returned his kiss with equal desperation. She opened to him without any prodding, sucking his tongue into her mouth to tangle with her own. Her fingernails scored his back even through the undershirt as she tried to pull him closer. She plunged her tongue into his mouth, nipped at the corner of his cold-chapped lips, moaned and writhed in his arms when he slid away to nuzzle the hollow under her ear.

“Ian...please...” All at once she broke their embrace. With one fluid movement, she dragged her tee shirt over her head, baring modest but flawless breasts topped with cranberry-red nipples. She didn’t say anything further, just held his gaze as she hiked up her buttocks and rolled the knit long-johns down over her creamy thighs. A gust of female musk rose from the blond tangle hiding her pussy, masking the scents of charred wood, diesel and rot.

In two breaths, Ian’s half-erect penis swelled to full hardness. Daisy lay back on the blanket with her knees raised and her moist sex open to his view, tempting him. He yearned to launch his body onto hers, to mash those luscious little tits against his chest and drive his cock into the hot, wet cleft that exuded such a heavenly fragrance. Something held him back, though. I don’t deserve her, he thought. She’s too young, too strong, too good... too good for a nasty, angry son of a bitch like me.

They remained motionless, eyes locked, for long seconds. Daisy licked her lips and spread her thighs wider. “Don’t you want me, Ian?” She gave him a mischievous grin. “The last chance I had to shower was yesterday morning, at the Y – do I smell bad?

“You smell delicious,” he replied, completely sincere. “But...”

“But what? It’s Christmas Eve. Let’s celebrate, while we can.”