Showing posts with label MMF menage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MMF menage. Show all posts
Monday, September 23, 2019
Out Now! Eyes Wide Open by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #menage #BDSM #MMF
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Sunday, March 25, 2018
Sizzling Sunday: Dragon Boat Blues - #Vietnam #MMF #SizzlingSunday
Welcome to another Sizzling Sunday! Today I’ve got a spicy bit from the latest in my Asian Adventures series, Dragon Boat Blues, just released last Friday. The story is an MMF ménage romance set in Vietnam.
Blurb
Take
your chances as they
come
My
lost superhero Josh had jet black hair, movie star cheekbones, clever
hands, the devil’s mouth, and an instinct for driving me crazy.
Josh believed in his own myths. He was forty miles an hour over the
speed limit that day, more powerful than a locomotive, when we
smashed into the tractor trailer. He blew out like a candle. I
sputtered in a sort of half life, year after year, marked forever by
that brief dance with insanity.
I
booked the dragon boat cruise on Ha Long Bay to use up a few free
days at the end of my business trip, figuring my disability wouldn’t
be a problem on the luxurious junk. I wasn’t looking for
companionship, just a bit of peace. But when British honeymooners
Stan and Phil welcomed me into their circle of love, I discovered how
much healing I still needed.
Excerpt
“Won’t
you let me pleasure you, sweet?” He slid his palms up, closer to my
center. “I’m dying to taste you.”
“I
don’t think—please… Oh, Stan…” I could have stopped him as
he hooked the elastic waistband of my leggings and peeled them down
over my hips, baring the untrimmed brown tangle of my pubis. But why
bother? He’d stop by himself when he saw what lay beneath.
Stan
paused, breathing in my strong scent. “Oh, Lydia!” He leaned
closer, lips parted, nostrils flaring. “Let me get these off you…”
With
a deftness I wouldn’t have expected from a gay man, he stripped me
of the footless tights. I raised my butt to help. Why postpone the
inevitable?
The
horror that lit his face when he saw my scars gave me a sort of grim
satisfaction.
“My
God! I had no idea.” With a hesitant finger, he traced the livid,
cross-stitched track that ran from below my knee to my groin, just
one of the puckered, discolored souvenirs I bore from my nine
operations. “Do they hurt?”
Somehow
I kept my voice neutral. “From time to time. Most of the pain comes
from the joints, though, where the prostheses interact with the bone.
The doctors did the best they could, I suppose, but there’s a limit
to what medicine can accomplish...” Tears threatened again. I
dashed them away with the back of my hand. “You should probably go
now.”
Stan
looked startled. “Oh, no, love…” He bent to my ravaged flesh
and licked along the length of the scar. I shuddered at the wet heat.
“Oh, no,” he murmured, so close to my pussy that I felt the
vibrations, deep inside. “I want you more than ever.”
He
drew my thighs apart, parted my labia with his blunt thumbs, and blew
a stream of hot air over my cunt. Fiery pleasure leapt up in
response. I think I moaned. Taking that as encouragement, he swept
his tongue through my folds, back to front, ending with a flick to my
rapidly swelling clit.
Like
a speeding train, arousal hit me, smashing my reservations into
insignificance. I sank my fingers into his lush hair and dragged his
face to my pussy. He didn’t offer the slightest resistance.
Burrowing into my cleft, he devoured my soaked sex-flesh, licking,
sucking, probing my depths, fluttering over my clit, until I was
half-crazy with need. I ground my pelvis against his plump lips. I
impaled myself upon his stout tongue. I took what I wanted, what I so
desperately craved, smothering him in my cunt, drowning him in my
juices. Arching against his mouth, I clung to his skull like a life
raft as my orgasm swept over me in liquid fury.
Buy
Links
Barnes
and
Noble
–
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dragon-boat-blues-lisabet-sarai/1128233847?ean=2940155178255
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
Review Tuesday: Anonymous by Giselle Renarde (#reviewtuesday #erotica #menage)
Anonymous: An Erotic Novel by Giselle Renarde
Createspace, 2016
Fulfilling
fantasies is both a major goal of erotica (at least, providing
vicarious fulfillment) and a common theme in the genre. What happens,
though, when fantasies spin out of control? That’s the question
that drives Giselle Renarde’s provocative novel Anonymous.
Hannah
and Nathaniel love talking about Nathaniel’s homoerotic fantasies
while they have sex. Just the mention of his sucking another guy’s
cock is enough to push them both over the edge. When Hannah decides
to turn those cherished fantasies into hard-core reality, she plans
carefully to avoid any unforeseen side effects. In particular, she
insists that the encounter be totally anonymous. The escort service
she has engaged provides exactly what she’s ordered: a gracious,
hunky Latin lover with no name and no history, whom she mentally
christens Mr. A (for Anonymous).
The
long-awaited night with their hired partner is scorching. Nathaniel
experiences not only fellatio but anal penetration. An eager voyeur,
Hannah enjoys every minute, at least as much as her husband does.
After
his initiation into gay sex, Nathaniel brings a new partner into
their circle, a sexy and charming Caribbean waiter named Lewis. Far
from being jealous, Hannah finds their new lover a delight. For some
reason, though, she can’t stop thinking about Mr. A. She starts
haunting the neighborhood where the escort service is located, hoping
for a glimpse of their elusive first partner, or a clue to who he
might be. Her obsession isolates her from Nathaniel and Lewis and
influences her life decisions. For instance, she turns down a
promotion that would require working in another part of the city.
Becoming progressively desperate, she even tries breaking into
company’s offices in the hope of searching their files.
This
is one hot book. Ms. Renarde pulled me into the naughty scenes with
her usual expert touch. Since I find gay sex a turn-on myself, I
strongly identified with Hannah’s arousal as she watches Nathaniel
with other men.
On
the other hand, I couldn’t really understand Hannah’s obsession.
The author seems to suggest that somehow it’s a side effect of her
being unemployed and depressed, but the dynamics weren’t obvious,
at least not to me. What is Hannah looking for, that she can’t find
in the intense, sexual-creative polyamorous relationship she shares
with Nathaniel and Lewis? Her thoughts and actions just didn’t make
sense.
To
some extent, I felt that the theme of obsession and the luscious
descriptions of three-way erotic excess were at war in this novel.
It’s almost as if the author started out to write a super-hot MMF
fantasy (a goal in which she definitely succeeds) but then got
distracted by a what-if scenario involving her heroine’s fixation.
I don’t really feel that the obsession thread contributed to the
eroticism in the book. On the contrary, it was disturbing, puzzling
and ultimately distracting.
Obsession
can indeed be a powerful theme in erotica. Perhaps that was what Ms.
Renarde was aiming for. In this case, I don’t think it quite works.
Nevertheless,
if (like me) you have fantasies about watching sexy guys pleasure
each other, I think you’ll enjoy this book.
Monday, April 25, 2016
Sports Car Sex. (@josie_jax. #MMF #LGBT)
By Josie Jax
(Guest Blogger)
What’s your
hottest car-sex moment? I’m sure most of us have been there…in a
cramped back seat with a lover, twisting like a pretzel, and making
the most of every inch of car space.
As an author of
erotic romances for over twelve years, I’ve written countless
lovemaking scenes from vanilla missionary to…how shall I
say…creative, sometimes acrobatic scenes.
During the editing
process for authors, we go through first or second rounds, line
editing, proofing, and so on. When my book was in the proofing stage,
the proofer commented on Twitter about the first in my Tropical Duet
series with Loose Id (Kabana Wild—book 1, now
available; and Jamaica Wild—book 2, coming
April 5). The proofer’s tweets:
“OMgawd
hyena laff
while
proofing
Kabana
Wild”
And:
“I
will never
look at
a sports
car in
the same
way again”
There
is a
lot more
#hotsex
that
follows the
below scene
in the
book (and
in the
book as
a whole),
but here’s
a snippet
of the
sports-car
lovemaking
chapter to
get your
engine
revving. ;)
Now get
mine
revving—share
your
hottest
car-sex
stories!
P.S.
Jamaica
Wild:
Tropical
Duet 2
by Josie
Jax
releases
April 5,
2016.
Kabana
Wild: Tropical Duet
1
Three
people...three depraved plans...one inferno of scandalous pleasures.
Movie
star Mitch Wulfrum is tired of deflecting the gay rumors buzzing
around him. It's time for drastic measures to suppress them once and
for all--even if it means marriage in name only to the first trophy
wife he can get his hands on. And beautiful sugar-cane princess Kiona
'Alohi fits right into his plan.
Kiona
can't believe her luck when she's presented with Mitch's proposition.
Her overbearing father is dangling her trust fund over her head as an
enticement to dump her oh-so-sexy, but oh-so-unsuitable lover,
Nakolo. A bogus marriage to Mitch will net her everything she
wants--money and love, even if she can only have Kol on the sly.
What
she doesn't expect are the sexual sparks that fly between her and
Mitch, or, when Kol catches them together, the heat that flares
between the two men. One scandalously pleasurable encounter after
another fans the flames of attraction, until they begin to dream that
all three of them could have everything they ever wanted--and more
than they ever expected.
An
intricate, fragile web of lies and deceit are all that keep their
wanton secrets from erupting into the public eye. Trouble is, one
scheming photographer named Anjelee has already clicked the shutter
that could ruin all their lives.
Excerpt
He thirsted for her
as always, but how to get his final fill of her in this cramped
little sports car?
Nakolo,
the sunroof… It was as if Pele
whispered the solution in his ear.
“Stand up,” he
ordered.
“S-stand up?”
“You heard me.
Stand up. Remove your shoes, plant a foot on each seat, and stand up
so your top half is through the sunroof.”
Her mouth fell
open, and a sound that resembled a wheeze tore from her throat. He
watched as she blinked, scanned the inside of the car, and looked up
through the sunroof. Nakolo knew the precise moment understanding
dawned on her.
For a full thirty
seconds, she stared deep into his eyes, her own tearing up. She
finally understood his desperation and intense desire to have her, to
reclaim what was his after seeing her with another man.
Kiona twisted,
assuring the car remained in park, and removed her shoes. She reached
for the sunroof’s edge and pulled herself to a standing position.
She was a tall woman, and it was a small car, so with her feet placed
as wide as she could get them on each front seat, the roof came to
waist level.
She set her elbows
and forearms on the roof and leaned on them. “I’m ready,” she
whispered down to him.
He scooted forward
and drew up her dress, stuffing the front hem beneath the garment’s
waistband. And there it was, her jewel—his jewel. Nakolo’s
mouth watered, and his balls throbbed, engorging like a balloon ready
to pop.
“Hemolele!
Mmm, my love, you are so gorgeous, so”—he swiped his tongue up
her slit, eliciting a scream from her—“delicious.”
The flavor of cream
and faint salt burst in his mouth. Holy islands, she was wetter than
the sea. He drew back and studied her toned thighs and the top of the
V they held dear. Except for a small patch of dark curls above her
clit, she always kept her pussy shaved for him so he could feel her
silky lips on his tongue or encircling his shaft. The labia were
smooth and naturally tanned, her nub pink and swollen, emerging at
the top of her cleft like the early bloom of a hibiscus. God, what
perfection!
Nakolo couldn’t
delay any longer. He wrapped his arms around her hips and reached
behind her. Sinking one finger into her dripping-wet puka, he
closed his mouth over her swollen bud.
She screamed again,
this time far louder. He heard her hands slap the roof and rejoiced
when her voluptuous body spasmed in his arms, against his face. He
flicked his tongue over her clitoris while gazing upward through the
sunroof. She was like a siren of the sea. He watched as the Pacific
winds blew inland, tossing her hair in a wild mass, her breasts perky
mounds, her face contorted in ecstasy.
Her pelvis did a
swiveling dance, abrading over his face. She growled, reaching for
that pinnacle that always came so easily for her. Nakolo pumped his
finger faster, adding another, then a third. She spread wider,
accommodating him, coating his fingers with her stickiness. With his
tongue, he thoroughly explored every fold, crease, and little bulge,
knowing the time would come very soon when he would have to yank her
down into the car and plunge himself into her.
She was almost
there, he could tell by the stiffening of her dance and the animal
mewls escaping from deep in her throat. But somewhere in the sexual
blur of his mind, Nakolo heard the hum of a car engine. He whipped
his head around to see a sleek Mercedes pull up behind Kiona’s car.
“Goddamn it,”
he swore when he saw none other than Mitch Wulfrum—the damn movie
star—unfold himself from the driver’s seat and stride toward
Kiona’s car.
Kiona’s windows
were darkly tinted, so most likely Mitch couldn’t see Nakolo. If
Mitch had spied Nakolo’s truck back at Jager’s house, he’d
probably know Nakolo sat in her car. But if he hadn’t peered out
the window at Nakolo’s boyish antics, Mitch wouldn’t know whose
truck it was and might assume Kiona was alone and the truck
abandoned.
Not knowing one way
or the other added an edge of excitement to the unexpected situation.
Nakolo’s loins simmered with reluctant fire. Did he want to be
discovered or not?
As Mitch approached
the driver’s side, Nakolo studied the strikingly handsome face, the
tall, lean body…and the bulge in the jeans Mitch now wore. Nakolo
swore under his breath. Why was it he found the sight of this man
sauntering nearer so very arousing while Kol orally pleasured Kiona?
Where had his anger gone? And why hadn’t he demanded an explanation
from Kiona about her tryst with this man before Kol had dived right
into satisfying his sexual urges?
“Mitch, what are
you—what are you doing here?” Kol heard Kiona choke out.
Buy
Links
About Josie Jax
Josie
Jax is
the new
pseudonym
for a
USA
Today
bestselling
author of
erotic
romances in
various
genres. She
lives in
the Midwest
and dreams
of becoming
a crazy
cat lady
by
rehabbing
an old
barn into
a fancy
mansion for
stray cats
and
stranded
kittens.
Please
visit
Josie’s
website
at
http://www.JosieJax.com
or
feel
free
to
email
her
at josiejax1 [at] gmail [dot] com.
Author
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