By Ella Laurance (Guest Blogger)
As
most of you can probably relate to, I haven’t the time to read just
for fun as much as I would like. I do however succumb from time to
time to the Siren song of browsing through those short descriptions
that lure us readers in.
It was actually
after I wrote The
Art of Pleasure, that I started to
notice on a conscious level how many erotic romance stories are about
women who are not aware about their true sexual needs until they meet
that one special man. And how much the story of Marie Dewey and her
billionaire husband Trevor wasn’t about that.
I understand the
attraction. In a life full of very real responsibilities and few ways
out, these stories offer a hot little, but essentially innocent
fantasy.
But there might also
be another reason. Even woman who enjoy
their sex and sexuality to the full, are living in a world where the
messages are more often than not mixed or even downright condemning
about women who step out of line. The whore/Madonna dichotomy is
still alive and kicking, though not always as easy to spot as it used
to be. I’m not so naïve to think that this fact has no bearing at
all on how we lovers of written erotica make our choices of what to
read and write.
For instance, since
I came out as lesbian in the Spring of 1979, I've gotten very few really
negative reactions from straight men me when I told them I was
sexually attracted to women. However, I can’t count the number of men who took it as a personal insult that
I hadn’t slept with men before I turned to women, or that I
wouldn’t try it with them. Having sex as a girl with another girl
was a-okay, but discovering all for myself what I wanted? What was
wrong with me? Didn’t I know all lesbians (except the butches, of
course) are in fact bi-sexual?
Now that
I’m many moons older and in a relationship with my wife for 32
years, the questions stopped. But it taught me that as an adult woman
my sexuality isn’t my own the way a man’s is his, even if that
man is gay or otherwise non-confirming. (One could even argue that
most homophobia is a form of misogyny, but that’s a discussion for
another time)
Does that mean it’s
wrong to enjoy the "innocent woman learns
about sex from an experienced man" stories? Of course not! That would
be nothing short of replacing one unwritten rule by another one.
However, I still think it’s interesting to look at what we perhaps
haven’t noticed before and wonder if what we see might form a
pattern.
Blurb of The
Art of Pleasure:
Marie Dewey collects
paintings and sexual experiences with different men, and her
billionaire husband Trevor loves nothing more than to fulfil all her
wishes…
Billionaire Trevor Dewey
has two great talents—making money and loving his wife, Marie.
Marie, in her turn, has two great loves—her husband and art. She's
also a sexual freethinker who enjoys one-night stands with other men
in the company of her own husband.
Trevor wants nothing more
than to make his wife happy, so when she falls in lust with his
personal assistant and best friend, Callum, and Callum returns her
feelings, he decides to take both of them to his private island off
the coast of Scotland for a weekend of sex. And both men will bring
Marie to several unbelievable heights of pleasure during one weekend.
All three know this
will be a one-time thing only before life returns to normal
Excerpt:
“You want to help me to
undress?” Callum asked.
“It’s faster when you
do it yourself.” Marie took Callum’s hand in her own and brought
it between her legs. “My pussy, your dick. Any more questions? To
avoid any misunderstandings, I don’t usually come from being
fucked, I do however love the feeling. So fuck me, come whenever you
come and allow me to enjoy this in my own way.”
She wasn’t unfamiliar
with the speed with which men could get naked if they were
exceptionally motivated, but she was pretty sure Callum was in her
top ten. She wasn’t surprised at all that he was hard as a nail and
she guessed he was glad she wanted what he wanted as well. Foreplay
was a great dish on any menu, but not always what the guests
preferred at a particular moment.
She turned on her back
again and spread her legs in invitation. “Now!”
He slid in so fast and
easy she could scream for joy. She wrapped her legs around his body,
trapping him close to her. He still managed to move, first in
stuttering unfamiliarity, but soon in a staccato rhythm.
“Yes, this, simply
this…” she encouraged him.
He seemed to understand
her words, because he sped up his thrusts, slightly changing his
angle to facilitate even deeper penetration.
He felt different inside
her than Trevor, but then so had every man she had taken to the
island. His cock seemed to stretch her just that little bit more, but
the depth of his penetration was perhaps slightly less. And how good
he smelt, with a typical rich masculinity that she’d only fully
become aware of now he was fucking her. He wanted her, and it made
her want him even more.
“God…so good…”
She loved his strong body on top of hers, because it reminded her of
her own strength. She moved her hands over the muscles of his back,
appreciating their subtle play under Callum’s sweat-stained skin.
The tension inside her grew, building up to a point where it would
either burst out in orgasm or simply linger until it would fully
subside. She accepted the sensation for what it was, not wanting it
to lead to a particular goal right now. She would come in her own
sweet time, experience had taught her that much.
The Art of Pleasure
is available at
and also at Amazon,
AllRomance and other places.
