Showing posts with label polyamory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label polyamory. Show all posts

Friday, July 24, 2020

Out today! A delicious #naughtyfairytale from @PebblesLaCasse #polyamory #bdsm #eroticromance


Blurb

Goldilocks is moving into the Bear house. While Bash is away at school, he’s entrusting his brothers to satisfy all her needs.

The townsfolk have labeled her a whore for associating with the bad boy Bear brothers. She fears her father’s disappointment most. Her immoral behaviour may prove too much for the man’s failing health.

Mack’s new girlfriend has Goldilocks questioning why Bash hasn’t mentioned her. She wonders what other secrets the brothers are keeping.

A dominant Patch and gentle Mack ravish her body with their wild sexuality, but what happens when the night stills and romance blooms?

Will Bash return home to discover Goldie’s heart belongs to another?

Note: Book 1 is part of the Torrid Tales Anthology. Book 2 follows as a standalone title.

Universal Buy Link

Amazon.com




Excerpt

Patch groans as I turn to walk past Mack and into the kitchen to put the bowls away. For such a big man, Patch moves stealthily. I see him coming in my peripheral and spin, putting my hands up to stop him. I try to back away, but my high-pitched laughter has me moving too slowly. He bends forward and scoops me over his shoulder. He hangs onto the back of my knees while he turns one way, then the other as he dumps the bowl’s contents into the trash and sets them in the sink.

I’m laughing harder now. He cracks my ass with his lumberjack-sized hand. Both ass cheeks heat instantly and my pussy twitches. I grab onto the waistband of his denim pants and try to lift my face off his back, but I’m laughing too hard to hold the position for more than a few seconds. He cracks me again. I try to cover my ass with my right hand, but somehow, he grasps my wrist and gives me two more. My ass is on fire!

I fucking love this!

Patch carries me into his bedroom and kicks the door shut with his foot. Before putting me down, he steps out of his slippers, undoes his pants and lets them fall to the floor, kicking them to the side. He tosses me onto my back on the bed. He’s on me, between my legs before the second bounce.

His mouth presses to mine with passion behind it. I could disappear into this man if I let myself. It would be as simple as closing my eyes and pretending he’s Bash. I miss him so much.

I whisper, “Tonight, you can pretend I am her.”

His expression softens. It’s as if he’s suddenly lost ten years of stress off his face. He nods slowly, brushing his thumb along my lips. The dominant man inside him is shadowed by his kinder side.

His voice flows with a deep whisper. “If we keep our eyes closed, we can pretend. This isn’t wrong, is it?”

My fingertips trail down his forehead and cheek. “We’ll keep our eyes closed. It won’t mean anything between you and me, other than two bodies pleasing each other while holding the image of someone else.”

“Agreed. Thank you,” he whispers before his lips press tenderly to mine.

He’s passionate and romancing her with his kisses. The otherwise rough, workingman’s hands seem softer than silk as they brush along my skin. He cups my breast, kissing down my neck with slow, deliberate pecks. My fingers weave into his short, dark hair as his lips surround my areola. As his tongue warms and teases my nipple, the full weight of his chest presses onto my pelvis, pinning me to the bed.

He rocks his body. Between the nipple play and the pressure on my clitoris, I’m moaning between deep breaths. His gentle hands wrap around both breasts, pushing them closer together so he can alternate between them quickly, nipping and flicking until my womanhood drips with need.

I’m lost in his tenderness. His sensual movements are as smooth as a ballet dancer. My hands slide along the bed, down beside my butt until our fingers weave together. An easy moan slips from his throat.

His tongue laps at my folds, sucking and flicking at my clitoris until I’m on the edge of letting myself fall into the abyss of glory when he suddenly stops. I groan my disappointment, but his mouth is on mine quickly, suffocating my protest. His left elbow rests beside my head while his right hand caresses my thigh.

With one quick movement, he’s deep inside me. Both of us gasp into each other’s mouths. His halted breath proves his pleasure. When my hips lift to meet his slow, deliberate thrusts, he pushes against my cervix, causing shock waves to ripple through me. The way our bodies mesh so perfectly, anyone watching would believe us to be deeply in love with each other.

He’s building me slowly toward orgasm. Nobody has ever moved this expertly with me, including him. I’m slipping away, becoming light and yet so heavy. I’m warm, cradled, and desired. I know it’s not me he’s dreaming of, but how lucky I would be if I were. She is a fool to have left a man who loves her this much. I can feel his heart breaking for her. He does not aim his compassion at me. I’ll be wise to keep that in mind.

In a flash, he rolls us both, our mouths never separating. I’m above him, straddling his pelvis, his rock-hard cock buried deep into me. His massive hands grip firmly on either side of my waist. I sit up and try to buck but he won’t allow me to move. His eyelids are closed, mouth open, chest heaving.

The weather outside pelts against the window creating a song that mirrors the moment between us; deafeningly peaceful, serene but treacherous, absolutely flawless with the possibility of disaster. At any moment, either of us could forget who we’re connected to and let our hearts break wide open.

I glance at him but only for a second. I cannot allow myself the pleasure of falling deeper under his spell. He watches me. His teeth are clenched, eyes seem darker, and his face has taken back those years he had lost earlier.

His Adam’s Apple bobs. “I’m going to fuck you hard now because I can’t do this with you.” I nod, knowing how close we came to bonding with more than just our bodies.

“Should I make you work for it?” I reply with a sassy tone.

His nostrils flare. “If you’re up for it.”

Before he can react, I slap his face and then fling my leg over him, attempting to escape his wrath. He growls like a madman, grasping my ankle just as I’m about to hop off the bed. I topple forward, catching myself before I hit the floor. I pull at the rug and kick, trying to yank my ankle out of his hand, but his mighty grip is inescapable. I kick with my other leg, hitting him in the chest, forcing him to let go. We both laugh; mine brought on with a hint of fear while the battle enthralls him.

I run to the door while he leaps off the bed and strides toward me. Quickly, I whip open the door and run through, slamming it behind me. He thuds against the wood and growls like a wild beast. He gives me time to hide while calling out to me from behind the closed door. “Goldilocks… I’m coming to get you!”

Which way do I go? Shit! Shit! Shit!

I run out the front door, closing it quietly behind me. It’s damn cold out here and dark as hell. I can’t see my hand in front of my face unless the lightning sparks, momentarily blinding me with the darkened shapes of the surrounding objects. I feel like someone is taking pictures of me and I keep looking at the flash.

I’m careful not to make any noise, but I’m unsuccessful when I bump into the table, knocking an empty beer can onto the wooden porch. I shuffle my feet, waiting for the lightning to light a path to the other side of the porch. It’s too dangerous to slip into the thick of the forest. If a tree falls, it could kill me.

I hear a sound behind me and spin to look just as a bolt of lightning lights up the entire porch. Patch is standing a foot away from me. My giddy yet terrified shriek seems to fizzle out between the fat raindrops as if it didn’t exist. I spin to run but he has my hair in his fist.

His voice sounds distant, drowned by the sheets of rain. “I found you, bitch! You’re in trouble now, whore!” He’s naked, his cock harder and thicker than I’ve ever seen it. His huge hand grabs my throat, pulling me toward his face. “Slap me, will you? You won’t do that again.”

A tinge of fear trickles into my laughter when his hand tightens. Blood rushes to my face and it’s harder to breathe. He glares fiercer with each bolt of lightning. It’s terrifying, sexy, and holy fuck, I want him!



Where to find me:








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Saturday, April 25, 2020

Coming next week! More delicious BDSM! #Dominance #PreOrder #NewRelease


D&S Duos Book 6 cover

The next volume of my D&S Duos series will be released next Thursday, April 30th. But you can pre-order it now, if you want...


It should be available on Barnes and Noble, Kobo and other fine booksellers by the time the 30th rolls around.

Meanwhile, here’s an exclusive excerpt from one of the two stories, “Detente”, a MMF polyamory tale.

* * * 

I look around, locate a stool, and seat myself on it with my legs spread rudely. I smooth my hands down over my thighs, then up along the inner surfaces, until my thumbs rest near my pubis. David’s swollen cock throbs and twitches as he follows my every move. Slowly, I burrow into my thatch and open my cunt lips to their gaze. A drop of liquid flows from the splayed folds and traces a lazy path down my thigh. The air fills with my funky perfume.

Eric squirms a bit on the table. David releases a shaky sigh.

“So, did you miss me?” They both nod, apparently speechless. “It does seem that you’ve been keeping yourself busy.”

Casually, I slip the two fingers of my right hand into my cunt. My juices overflow onto the wooden seat. I slip a third finger into my cleft. Blood surges in my clit. With the forefinger of my other hand, I begin to draw little circles on the head of that aching button of flesh. Each touch makes me shiver with pleasure.

The uncertainty is gone from my lovers’ faces. All that remains is lust. I beckon to David. “Come over here and eat me,” I command. He doesn’t need a second invitation.

He kneels between my legs and buries his face in my bush. I nearly come the first time he plunges his tongue into me, but I hold myself back. I want to make him work for a while.

David licks and sucks energetically at my flesh, making obscene slurping noises that arouse me even more. I stroke the dark tangle of his hair, murmuring encouragement. Over his head, I catch Eric’s eye. I don’t see any bitterness or jealousy there. His mouth is half open, as if he’s panting.

It’s too delicious to resist for long. I close my eyes and surrender to sensation. David tickles, gnaws, probes, swallows me whole. When he takes my clit between his teeth, my whole body begins to shudder. After four days without sex, I come in a thundering flood. The world crumbles around me and is swept away.

The aftershocks gradually subside. I open my eyes. David’s still between my thighs, his mustache limp and dripping, his cheeks smeared. He looks awfully pleased with himself.

“Was that good, Margot?” he asks.

“What do you think?” I reach down and pinch the taut flesh of his cockhead. He winces in response. “But you’re not done yet.”

“What is your pleasure, Mistress?” He’s jesting, but in fact I know that he’ll do as I say. 

 

Sunday, February 9, 2020

Sizzling Sunday: Valentine's Visit - #bisexual #polyamory #ValentinesDay #SizzlingSunday


sizzling sunday banner

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I thought I’d indulge you with some seasonally appropriate fare. Here’s a juicy F/F excerpt from Vegas Babes Book 4, Valentine’s Visit: Four-way Friend Swap – bisexual polyamorous fun for the festival of love...

Enjoy!

Blurb

Jake and Fran and Ted and Annie celebrate Valentine’s Day—Vegas style!

When Jake and Fran are invited to Las Vegas spend Valentine’s weekend with Jake’s old friend Ted and his curvaceous ginger-haired wife, they’re not sure what to expect. The last time they saw Ted and Annie, at the Vegas couple’s pre-wedding stag party, the four of them had ended up in bed together. But maybe that was just a fluke. There’s only one way to find out.

Since their wedding, Annie and Ted have acquired some new kinks and a good deal more erotic experience. Annie has discovered she likes strap-ons and a bit of domination. Ted has been forced to recognize he’s into guys as well as women.

Will Annie’s double dildo scare Fran away? Will Jake balk at getting intimate with Ted? Only Cupid knows!



Excerpt (F/F)

When she returned with the refreshments five minutes later, the tension had thickened. Fran sat on the padded bench to the left of the door, still drinking in the view. Jake and Ted lounged in two chairs on the right, separated by a small table, carefully avoiding each other’s eyes. The only sound was the distant honk of cars on the Strip.

Annie set her tray down on the table and handed out drinks. Guess we’re all a bit nervous, she admitted to herself. We all know what we want. We’re just not sure how to start.

Ted and Jake eagerly helped themselves to canapés, as if glad to have something to do with their hands. Meanwhile, Fran patted the empty spot beside her. “Sit with me, Annie.”

Cradling her wine glass, Annie settled down next to her friend. She sipped her wine. Now what?

Fran sidled closer, until their hips touched. “It’s so lovely here,” she murmured. “Thanks so much for inviting us.” She placed her palm above Annie’s knee, casually, almost as if the gesture were unconscious. The warmth of her touch easily penetrated the thin fabric of Annie’s skirt, making her shiver with arousal.

The other woman slid her hand up Annie’s leg, crumpling the skirt beneath, gradually baring more and more skin. Annie found she was holding her breath. She sucked air into her lungs in a little gasp. Now Fran trailed her fingertips along the sensitive inner surface of Annie’s thigh, making the nerves spark and flash.

“You have such wonderful, silky skin,” her visitor continued. Her fingers grew bolder, climbed higher, brushed ever so lightly over Annie’s pubic curls. “And such soft hair…”

A bolt of pleasure shuddered down to Annie’s clit. Pussy juice leaked from her lust-plumped folds. Her cunt spasmed with need, but she didn’t move. She wanted to see what Franny would do next.
Her friend stroked a tentative fingertip over the swollen bead at Annie’s core.

“Yes,” Annie hissed, overcome by sensation. “Oh, yes, please…”

In response, Fran urged Annie backward, until she was prone on the bench. “I’ve been dreaming about this,” she told Annie, crumpling her skirt to her waist and parting her legs. “Of laying you down, opening you up, and feasting on your sweet pussy.”

Fran fit her actions to her words, kneeling on the bench and bringing her face close to Annie’s weeping slit. “You smell like the ocean.” She swept the flat of her tongue through Annie’s folds, firm and wet. “You taste like olives and honey.”

Annie’s hips jerked upward, seeking more contact. “More,” she moaned. “Please, Franny.”

“Of course,” replied the Italian minx. She leaned in once more, licking up the juice coating Annie’s inner lips, then probing the cavity between them. Pleasure danced through Annie’s flesh, even at this limited contact, but she needed so much more—“Oh!”

Fran suddenly shifted from tentative to fierce. She burrowed her nose into Annie’s pussy, nibbling at the tender flesh, flicking her clit, tonguing her hungry hole—lapping, munching, sucking, chewing. The volume of sensation surged, the gain so high Annie almost couldn’t bear the intensity.

The heaviness of an impending orgasm gathered in her pelvis, shot through with incandescent streaks of pleasure like lightning crackling through a thundercloud. One instant, two at most, and she’d crack wide open.

Fran continued to eat her, gripping her thighs, pulling them wide to give her better access. Annie felt the woman’s lithe tongue circle her anus, then dip inside, before sliding forward again to tickle her clit. God, it was all so good! But it wouldn’t last much longer…

“Franny…” she moaned. “I’m going to come. Suck my clit, suck it hard!”

Fran followed instructions, fastening her lips on that trembling little node and sucking for all she was worth. At the same time, she pushed two well-lubricated fingers deep into Annie’s cunt.

The cloud burst. Pleasure flared in her center, sizzling out to her fingers and toes. She arched up, slamming her pussy into Franny’s face. Her cunt clenched around Fran’s fingers. Franny continued to lick her as the shimmering bliss faded, drawing another, rounder and more resonant come from deep in her belly. When that climax dwindled, Fran drove a third finger into Annie’s hole and sent her spinning into bliss yet again.

It took a while for Annie to come to her senses. She raised her head and gazed down at Fran. The brunette seemed exhausted as well. She lay with her cheek against Annie’s thigh, her eyes half-closed, her Cupid’s bow mouth curved in a half-smile. Every now and then her tongue flicked out to taste the residue of pussy juice on her lips.

From this angle, Annie had a fine view down the low-cut neckline of Franny’s sweater. At first, she simply admired Fran’s round, full breasts, but soon she realized looking wasn’t enough.

She combed her fingers through her friend’s dark curls. Fran’s eyes fluttered open and met Annie’s. Without speaking, she pushed herself backwards on the bench. Annie sat up, swung her legs down to the floor, and leaned in to bury her face in the other woman’s cleavage, licking the salt from her smooth skin and breathing in her floral-tinged musk.

Francesca truly had perfect tits, generous but not too large, soft but firm, tipped with fat mauve beads that begged to be sucked. Still nuzzling the valley between them, Annie slipped both hands under the Valentine-red top. She splayed her fingers over those luscious mounds and squeezed lightly. The stiff, juicy nipples poked into her palms. Her mouth watered. She needed to see, to taste, as well as to feel.

“Take it off,” Annie ordered, frantic with lust. She feared she’d damage the garment if she tried to remove it herself.

Franny grinned, pulled the sweater over her head, and let it fall onto the bench behind her. Her tits bounced slightly with the motion. With a choked moan, Annie descended on that succulent flesh, twisting the left nipple between her thumb and forefinger while suckling the right. Locking her lips around the pulpy nub, so rigid and sweet, she alternated licks and suction, pretending it was the girl’s clit.

“Oh, yeah…” breathed Fran, arching her back to offer herself more completely to Annie’s mouth. “Just like that…” She parted her thighs, releasing a gust of fresh pussy-scent.

Annie dropped one hand to Fran’s crotch, still fondling her tits with the other. She found the leggings completely soaked. “You’re such a horny girl,” she murmured. She stroked her finger along the damp seam of the garment, following the line of Fran’s cleft. Franny squirmed in response. “I’ll bet I can get you off just by rubbing your through your clothes, without touching your bare skin at all.”

Fran was clearly naked under the leggings. Annie easily found the ridges of her lower lips and the swollen node where they met. She rocked Fran’s clit back and forth with her thumb, while pressing her fingers into the crevice between. Meanwhile, she continued to pinch and tug one engorged nipple.

“Oh, Annie!” The dark-haired creature leaned back on her hands and spread her legs wide, shamelessly begging for more stimulation. “Put your hand in my pants. Touch my pussy. Please, Annie!”

“No way. I’m going to make you come like this. Just the friction and the pressure. The way Jake probably got you off when you were still a virgin…”

Get your copy before Valentine’s Day!








Friday, January 10, 2020

Fidelity - #fidelity #monogamy #dreams


Image by Christelle PRIEUR from Pixabay
 
I have been happily married for nearly forty years. Nevertheless, I don't think I am monogamous by nature. Before my husband and I hooked up, there were periods in my life when I was simultaneously in love with, and had sexual relationships with, two men. I realize that some readers may find this outrageous, as well as improbable. I couldn't possibly have loved them both, could I? And how could the men involved have put up with such a thing? That sort of thing happens only in novels―usually in erotica rather than in romance.

Well, it's true. I couldn't help it. And actually, it worked reasonably well. When I was with either of my lovers, he was my emotional focus. I did not fantasize about the other man. I didn't compare the two of them. Each of my relationships stood on its own, not perfect (that never happens, except in romance novels) but enjoyable and fulfilling.

I didn't lie. My lovers knew of each other's existence. In some cases they had even met. If they were jealous, they knew better than to complain. I gave myself 100% to each of them when we were together. I guess they cared enough about me to be satisfied with that.

But all that changed when I married, right? Not exactly. Before we met, my husband had enjoyed at least as active and adventurous sex life as I did. Our marriage contract explicitly acknowledges the fact that we might not be monogamous. We grant each other sexual freedom, provided that we are honest with one another and always put our marriage first.

In fact, neither of us has been involved in side relationships with other people. However, we did experiment with polyamory in the first decade or so of our marriage. We were both attracted to the notion of finding another couple with whom we could have an intimate friendship or even form a family. We didn't really succeed―swing clubs and parties are not the right places to find the sort of deeper connection we wanted. I've come to believe that real polyamory is something that happens, not something you can go seeking. In any case, we didn't become monogamous, technically speaking, until we both got to the age where it seemed a bit ridiculous for us to be looking for outside lovers.

Despite this, I consider that I've been faithful to my husband. Don't scoff. Fidelity is an emotional concept, not a physical one. Our relationship comes first. His happiness and comfort are my primary concern. I might be drawn to a guy I meet, but I won't act on my attraction if I think it will hurt my husband (and these days, I know that it would). It doesn't bother me if my spouse is attracted to another woman because I'm confident that I come first for him, too. He could have sex with her and it would not diminish his love for me.

I've always had extremely vivid dreams, not infrequently erotic. I have a recurring dream where I encounter some man and there's instant chemistry. I don't usually dream explicit sex acts but every touch, every glance, overflows with desire. (I'm always younger in my dreams―somewhere between 25 and 30 when I was in my prime―so it never feels odd to attract someone's lust, the way it would in my waking life.) I'm so horny that I can scarcely bear it. He obviously feels the same way. It's overwhelming, intoxicating.

Then I'll remember: I'm married. If I go off with this other guy, whoever he is, my husband will be alone. I don't want to make my husband suffer. I know he needs me, needs my company, my presence. So, with some regret, I'll let go of the dream guy and the arousal he engenders. I'll explain the situation. I'd love to be with you, but I can't. I'm committed, and I take that commitment seriously.

I find this dream scenario fascinating. You'd think that in my dreams, where no one would get hurt, I'd let loose and give expression to my non-monogamous nature. Yet I don't. It's a measure, to my mind, of true fidelity.

Thursday, October 10, 2019

On the joys of writing naked - #sensuality #pansexual #polyamory @insistentwinter

Lost and Found cover

By Dierdre Winter (Guest Blogger)

I love my job, but when I come home, I am wound up with adrenaline, my mind tangled with the issues of the day. I need release.

My favorite ritual of the day is undressing in front of the full length mirror in my bedroom. I pull my blouse loose from my pencil skirt, my fingers scrambling over the buttons; with every button I undo, I feel more and more liberated from the rigid confines of my professional life. As I unzip my skirt and let it fall to the floor, a second self emerges. I consider my body, now clad only in black sheer and lace, and I feel a growing sense of peace. I no longer have to be in charge, I am free to whimper and moan, to quiver and shudder, to fall back helpless onto the bed.

I unclasp my bra and throw it to the ground, soothing the harsh red lines marked on my skin. I peel off my stockings and toss my thong into the laundry with my toe. Release is coming, my body can feel it with every fiber of its being.

But, I like to stretch it out, make an evening of it. I love to feel it build in my body like a tidal wave until every piece of my body is involved. I love it when I can feel the pressure in my toes, in my ear lobes and everywhere in between. I love to bring myself just to the edge before pulling away even when my soul cries out hungrily.

I throw a robe loosely over my shoulders, not bothering to tie it up. As I wait for the water to boil for my tea, I can barely resist sliding a hand down my smooth skin to soothe the throbbing want pulsing through my veins. But, I must hold off. I need this energy for writing.

I have always been a writer, but it wasn’t until I found erotica that I found a consistent eagerness to write. I make my fantasies come to life, developing the characters and the situations by translating them from fragmentary images into stories I can imagine happening in real life. Although the physical act of sex is an important part of my writing, I find it becomes more erotic when I can recognize the characters as people who could very well be my co-workers, my neighbors, my fellow shoppers at the grocery store. In other words, I want the sex to flow from the story.

Because my fantasies tend to include open and uninhibited sexuality that transcends traditional gender and societal roles, my stories tend to take on that characteristic as well. Like my fantasies, my writing features pansexual and polyamorous relationships. I enjoy the complexity and the possibility of these relationships.

I am attracted to writing about women who are waiting for something exciting to happen in their lives. In many ways, I can relate. I spend many of my nights waiting, wondering who will step out from the shadows and make my fantasies into reality.

I recently completed my first novel called Lost and Found. It is about Dr. Grace Jones, a professor of Archeology suffering through the icy cold winters that come with working at the University of Minnesota. On top of the bothersome cold, she can no longer deny that her life is lacking the adventure it once had. As she's preparing for another Friday night alone, she gets an email from her mentor, Michael Hill, asking her to meet him in Guatemala where he believes he's found a treasure that will set the world of Archeology on its head. When Grace arrives at the camp, she is welcomed by Nick, Graham, and Susanna who make up the rest of Michael's team. As they chase the find of a lifetime, Grace must face her past, her fears, and her demons. Blazing hot days lead into steamy, sultry nights as the group searches the Guatemalan volcanoes for a long buried Mayan treasure.

Heat was the inspiration that started the whole story. I wanted to tell a story bathed in the unrelenting power of the sun. I wanted my characters to be sweaty and desperate to get out of their clothes. I wanted my main character to come from the cold and thaw out in the heat, shedding her protective clothing as well as her inhibitions. With that central idea in place, the details of the story began to emerge.

I had such fun writing this novel that immediately began on my second, which I hope to publish next year. It is about a woman, Lila, who moves to a small town to be a live-in nurse for an old man. For years, she’s been struggling with the death of her husband and the difficulty of raising her young son alone. Much like Grace, Lila is reborn and renewed by her experiences. She makes connections, sexually and emotionally, with the people she meets there, finding kindred spirits in the most unlikely places.

In all my work, I try to remember that erotica is literature and I spend as much time on the themes, the characters, and the stories as I do on the sex.

About the Author

Dierdre Winter is a first time novelist happily learning and working through all it takes to be a writer. She is also a teacher, a fitness fanatic, a dog owner, and an artist. She lives alone, near enough to Toronto to enjoy the city, but far enough away that she can have a backyard and a little house to herself. She can be found on twitter, and all over the internet @insistentwinter.

Her first novel is available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited and can be found at: https://www.amazon.com/Lost-Found-Pansexual-Polyamorous-Adventure-ebook/dp/B07XVRTQ2R/


Thursday, February 14, 2019

A Sexy Valentine's Treat - #menage #lesbian #bisexual #friendswap


 
It’s finally Valentine’s Day! And I’ve got a brand new release to celebrate. Book 4 of my Vegas Babes series is out today. Valentine’sVisit is romantic bisexual ménage erotica, with lots of sex, but plenty of love, too.

Leave me a comment and I’ll enter you into a drawing to win a free copy.

Blurb

Jake and Fran and Ted and Annie celebrate Valentine’s Day—Vegas style!

When Jake and Fran are invited to Las Vegas spend Valentine’s weekend with Jake’s old friend Ted and his curvaceous ginger-haired wife, they’re not sure what to expect. The last time they saw Ted and Annie, at the Vegas couple’s pre-wedding stag party, the four of them had ended up in bed together. But maybe that was just a fluke. There’s only one way to find out.

Since their wedding, Annie and Ted have acquired some new kinks and a good deal more erotic experience. Annie has discovered she likes strap-ons and a bit of domination. Ted has been forced to recognize he’s into guys as well as women.

Will Annie’s double dildo scare Fran away? Will Jake balk at getting intimate with Ted? Only Cupid knows!

Exclusive Excerpt (Rated X)

He collapsed on top of her, smearing his jizz between them. Franny clasped her arms around his back and pulled him closer. God, she loved him!

Jake raised his head to gaze into her eyes. “You’re really something, Fran.”

“Likewise,” she replied with a grin. “Thank you.”

“I was just going to say that to you.” He crawled up her body to fasten his mouth on hers. She was amused to note that the passionate kiss caused his cock to stir and swell yet again.

“Guess we both need another shower,” he said, gazing ruefully as his sticky skin. “And I’d better put in a call to Dale at the restaurant, let him know I’ll be late.”

“Why not tell him you’re taking the rest of the day off?” Fran sat up and ran her fingers through her dark curls. The room was theirs until tomorrow. And she certainly didn’t feel like returning to her computer and the tricky page layout that had consumed her morning. Especially when that would require her to trudge through the sleet then spend five stops crammed into the train.

“But your father—”

“Dad is very impressed by your performance. He told me so last week. Profit is up, complaints are down—you’re a natural manager.” She scrambled over to pull him into a hug, rubbing her rigid nipples against his chest. She knew that drove him wild.

“Franny!” Jake tried unsuccessfully to escape from her embrace.

“What?”

“You’re insatiable.”

She reached between them to stroke his mostly hard dick. “And you’re not?”

“It’s your fault.”

“Oh, is that so—?” A chirp from her phone interrupted her. With a frown, she grabbed it off the dresser, expecting a text from her boss. She was pleasantly surprised.

“It’s from Annie!”

“Ted’s Annie?” Jake licked his lips. Franny knew what he was thinking. They hadn’t seen his best friend and his delectable ginger-haired wife since the couple’s wild wedding the previous summer
 
Fran blushed, remembering the shenanigans that had gone on at their co-ed stag party, especially the foursome she and Jake had shared with the soon-to-be-wedded pair. Making love to Annie while Ted had plowed Fran’s rear hole and Jake had taken Annie’s—that had to be one of the most erotic experiences of her young but active life.

“Of course.” She read further. “Oh! They’re inviting us to come visit over Valentine’s weekend. They’ve got a new, two bedroom apartment. They want us to stay with them.”

“Go to Vegas? But what about work?” Jake shook his head. “I’m still trying to prove myself to your father.”

Fran settled her hands on her full hips and glared at her husband. “I told you, that’s not a problem. Dale can handle the restaurant for a few days. You told me you’ve been grooming him to take over another branch.”

“But—” Jake shrugged, looking helpless.

“Don’t you want to see them?” She stepped nearer, then sank to her knees on the carpet in front of him. His dick surged at her closeness. She stuck out her tongue to gather a drop of pre-cum welling from the tip. “Gorgeous Annie? And your best friend Ted?” Pursing her lips around the bulb, she sucked gently. “Don’t you want to fuck them?”

“Oh!—c’mon, Fran—that might have been just a fluke. We shouldn’t assume— ”

“Annie says they’re having a Valentine’s party Saturday night. And that they want us to meet their friends.” Fran paused to swallow his erection and run her tongue up and down the taut length. He tasted like pussy. That just reminded her of eating Annie. She had to convince her reluctant spouse. “Her emoticon is definitely a leer.”

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