Red Hots: A Valentine Anthology (#anthology #giveaway #valentines)

Blurb

Red Hots is a steamy collection of Valentine's Day themed stories byeighteen new and established romantic erotica authors. From a lonely lighthouse keeper's strange encounter with a ghostly sea captain to a husband surprising his wife with a sexy game; from an alien discovering just what Valentine's Day means to her human lover to a store owner receiving an unexpected Gift With Purchase that makes her best friend look at her VERY differently, there is something here for everyone who loves the Valentine tradition!

Excerpt

From Sweet On You by Ava Bari:

As Molly turned to the bathroom door, the water shut off, and someone moved around inside. Something fell to the floor, followed by a masculine voice cursing. Molly’s legs and mouth refused to obey her, leaving her frozen and silent as the door opened and a man stepped out.

Now Molly’s mouth worked again, but only to loosen her jaw and prevent her from picking it up again. He was a very tall man, even factoring in how short Molly was. She was level with his chest - his very nice chest - and he was looking down at her from an unfairly high vantage point. He blinked a few times, then closed his eyes for a really long time as if expecting her to vanish into thin air when he opened them again. Molly would’ve liked to try that herself, but even without seeing him she smelled the hotel soap on his wet skin and heard his breathing.

“Uh…” she said. Her eyes dropped to the white bath towel around his waist. A trail of hair started at his belly button and trailed down a defined stomach and- ‘What the hell is wrong with you? Stop looking there!’

Molly’s spine straightened. She looked right at his eyes and nowhere else.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice deep and husky.

Molly had read somewhere once that the human mind was not capable of creating faces or voices. If you heard someone’s voice in your head, odds were good it came from someone you knew in your everyday life. That must’ve been true, because if Molly had heard a voice that rich, she would have remembered it.

“Pulling the sheets down,” she said. She glanced one more time at his suitcase. “This is my hotel room.”

“That’s funny,” said the man. “This is my hotel room, too.”

“What a coincidence,” said Molly.

And here she’d been hoping for a weekend without problems.

About the Authors

Annika Steele began writing at the age of 8, but abandoned her stories in college. A ridiculous number of years later, she stumbled across fanfic, put fingers to keyboard, and hasn’t stopped writing since. You can follow her on Tumblr at annikasteele.tumblr.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/annikasteelewrites 

Margot Wren has been writing ever since she realized that's how stories get made. In between projects she contemplates the universe, yields to the demands of her two cats, and bakes more cookies than she can eat.

You can find Margot on Tumblr at margot-wren.tumblr.com 

Caitlyn Lynch is an Australian erotica author and happily married mother of two. She has a number of published works available on Amazon.

You can also find her at caitlynlynch.com, or on her social media accounts.

Facebook: www.facebook.com/caitlynlynch6author

Twitter: twitter.com/caitlynlynch6

Tumblr: caitlynlynch.tumblr.com 

Ariel Bishop is an American erotica author who feels strongly that all love triangles are best resolved through healthy polyamory.

You can find her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/arielbishopauthor and on Tumblr at ariel-bishop.tumblr.com 

Christina Rose Andrews is actually two friends, Lark and Rose, writing under one pen name. Lark boasts a degree in "Do you want fries with that?" and is a proud parent of two dogs and one cat. Rose considered becoming a cult leader before deciding it was too much effort. In her spare time, Rose likes watering her plant and plotting to take over the world.

You can find them on Twitter: twitter.com/croseandrews

Tumblr: christinaroseandrews.tumblr.com

And Facebook: www.facebook.com/christinaroseandrews


Vanessa Sweet may be summoned under the cover of night with offerings of chocolate and erotica. She is mildly shocked that her submission for this anthology contains neither bondage or spanking.

She can be found on Tumblr at vanessa-sweet.tumblr.com 

Gwen Marshall lives in a full house with 2 cats, a dog, a child and a husband in the Pacific Northwest. When not writing, she spends her time at the local comic book store or playing softball.

You can follow her on Tumblr at gwenmarshallfiction.tumblr.com

Tally Bane lives on the west coast of the US with her husband, children and pets. A stay at home mom who spends her free time dreaming up new stories to tell her readers.

You can find her on Tumblr at tally-bane.tumblr.com or Facebook at www.facebook.com/Tally-Bane-137623006716338


Barbara Be is a German woman who lives on the internet and feels half as old as she really is. She loves writing aliens and elves, and she's also a sorceress of all things computers, an engineer, a mother, a good cook and a master of procrastination.

Barbara has a Tumblr with writing advice at the960writers.tumblr.com and a blog at the960writers.wordpress.com.

A lifelong lover of reading, writing, and dark-haired hotties, Ava Bari is a junior in college pursuing a degree in English. When not hitting the keyboard she can be found hitting up Amazon. This is her second published story.

Find out more at avabari.tumblr.com

Briar McKenna was told that the only secret to writing is sitting at a typewriter and bleeding, well she tried that but all that came out was glitter. Hailing from red dirt country she has half a degree in Anthropology and a dumpster worth of thoughts to share with you anyway.

You can find her on Twitter at twitter.com/briarmadeshiny and Tumblr at briarmakeshinies.tumblr.com

R. A. Stone has been a lover of romance novels for most of her life. She’s dabbled in writing through the last decade and aspires to write more with the support of her daughter and their dog, Rocco.

Find her on Tumblr at r-a-stone.tumblr.com

Livvy Ward was born and raised in Australia. She’s been a fan and avid reader of paranormal romances for the past twenty years and has just recently made the transition to professional writing.

You can find her works on Amazon.

You can also find Livvy on Tumblr: livvy-ward.tumblr.com

Twitter: twitter.com/livvywardauthor

Facebook: www.facebook.com/livvywardauthor

and at her Website: livvyward.com

Annalee Locke lives in the middle of the US. While usually found working or catering to the whims of two cats, you can sometimes spot her dancing in grocery stores or staring into space, mapping out her next writing project.

Sera Taíno is a married mother of two. She earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree from Rutgers University and currently lives in the Southern United States. When she isn’t teaching middle schoolers the fine art of writing and running a creative writing club, she is at her desk, working tirelessly on her next project.

You can find her on Twitter: twitter.com/serataino

Tumblr: serataino.tumblr.com

and Facebook: www.facebook.com/serataino

Abbigail Clark is a seventy-five year old woman trapped in a twenty-two year old body, so kindly step off the grass, dear.

In her spare time, when she isn’t writing stories, Abbigail loves to sing Strauss to her collection of bobbleheads and sew hoop skirts for her mother’s poodle, Charles.

Líadáin Douglas is an American author of erotica stories. Also an avid reader, she enjoys taking an active role in various creative communities. All creativity is art, regardless of medium.

She publishes primarily in the LGBT genre and you can find her works on Amazon.

You can also find her on Twitter: twitter.com/LiadainDouglas

Tumblr: liadaindouglas.tumblr.com

and Facebook: www.facebook.com/LiadainDouglas

A born-and-raised California girl, V. T. Charbonneau's favorite word growing up was "dangerous." Thirty years later she's still rocking that West Coast life along with two cats, one dog, and a husband. Dangerous remains her favorite word, but she's learned a few more in the meantime. She uses them to write steamy fiction with hot guys, smart girls, and a touch of romance.

You can find her published works on Amazon. You can also find her at:

Website: www.vtcharbonneau.com

Tumblr: http://www.vtcharbonneau.tumblr.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/VTCharbonneau/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/VTCharbonneau

a Rafflecopter giveaway

"The sex in this story is smoking hawt." (#review #incognito #erotica)

That's what reviewer BookAddict has to say about my new release Incognito, over The Romance Reviews (TRR)!

That's not all she says:

"Ms. Sarai is known for her powerful erotica filled with delicious seductive imagery." 

Is that true? That's definitely something I'd like!

And:

"Highly recommended to erotica readers who enjoy a good plot and character building."

Thank you so much!

Want to check the book out? You'll find it at all your favorite bookstores:

Amazon US
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01CG9CKTQ

Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01CG9CKTQ

Barnes & Noble
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/incognito-lisabet-sarai/1100410132?ean=9781786510174

Totally Bound
https://www.totallybound.com/incognito

All Romance Ebooks
An All Romance Best Seller!
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-incognito-2018099-147.html


Add to your Goodreads shelf!
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29383360-incognito

Ms. Sarari is known for her powerful erotica filled with delicious seductive imagery. This erotica is a well written and provocative. Highly recommended to erotica readers who enjoy a good plot and character building. - See more at: http://erotic.theromancereviews.com/viewbooksreview.php?bookid=21524#sthash.SyXQAKCN.dpuf

Ms. Sarari is known for her powerful erotica filled with delicious seductive imagery. This erotica is a well written and provocative. Highly recommended to erotica readers who enjoy a good plot and character building. - See more at: http://erotic.theromancereviews.com/viewbooksreview.php?bookid=21524#sthash.SyXQAKCN.dpuf

Ms. Sarari is known for her powerful erotica filled with delicious seductive imagery. This erotica is a well written and provocative. Highly recommended to erotica readers who enjoy a good plot and character building. - See more at: http://erotic.theromancereviews.com/viewbooksreview.php?bookid=21524#sthash.SyXQAKCN.dpuf

Back List Blast:: Nasty Business (#bdsm #erotic #hea)

Get your copy today!  Amazon  BN  ARE  Fireborn

Opening the door, I offer her a hand. "Get out of the car, Ruby." She does not resist. Her palm is sticky with her dried juices. When she releases my hand, I hold it to my nose, inhaling deeply. My mouth waters in anticipation. "Lean against the railing. I want to admire the view."

Ruby looks simultaneously embarrassed and defiant. "You promised, Rick..."

"Come now, Ruby. You started this. You want this." The first statement is not strictly true, but the second clearly is. She does not protest further, but obeys my command, facing the steel rail and looking out over the city spread below us.

The curved top of the guard rail reaches her mid-thigh. "Hands on the railing, please. Bend over." Silently Ruby complies. Her skirt is still tangled around her waist. Her bikini panties hang loosely on her hips, stretched and stained from her earlier exertions. I reach for them, pull them down to her ankles and off. She shivers when my hand comes in contact with her bare flesh.

I've seen Ruby's ass before, of course, that night in the cab. Up close. But it was dark, and though I could see the details, it was hard to get the whole picture, as I do now.

The late afternoon sun gilds her paleness to warm gold. The glow underscores the shadows, the crease where her thighs begin, the crevice between her cheeks. Like her breasts, the fluid curves of her buttocks are perfect. They swell toward me, lush and full. I have a nearly overwhelming urge to palm and stroke them. I imagine spanking them, the marks of my fingers blossoming red in the wake. I see myself holding them apart as I plunge my cock into her depths. My erection tightens another notch at this mental image.

But I do none of these things. I merely stand behind her, admiring her nakedness, allowing the shame and the suspense to build in her. A car races by, swings around the curve and is gone. She twitches at the sound, but remains where she is. Where I have positioned her.

What now? God, I'd love to take her right here, out in the open like this. My cock screams for it. She wouldn't stop me, not now, not after that orgasm, guilty proof of her lust for me. But that's not enough. I want her to ask me, to beg me to fuck her. I want her to admit to me how much she wants me. Needs me. And she's not there yet, I'm certain. Today was just the first step.

I want to use her, though, pleasure her and humble her at the same time. Fingers are not enough. Again, I wish that I had kept her little whip. Then I have a thought; perhaps she brought it herself.

Stealthily, I walk over to the car, reach in and grab her purse. The twinge of guilt when I snap it open is quickly replaced by my triumph over what I've found. Not the flogger, true, but something as good, or better. An elegant stainless steel vibrator, slender and feminine. It's about the diameter of a lipstick tube, and perhaps three times as long. Just the thing.

"Ruby," I say, walking back to her bent figure and holding the dildo up for her to see. "Look what I found. As I expected, you are always prepared." She turns and tries to glare at me, but desperate hunger overcomes her rage. "Do you want it, Ruby?" She looks out over Los Angeles, stonily silent. I don't press her. She's given enough, earned some reward.

With one hand, I reach between her splayed thighs. I brush my fingertip across the silky hair on her mound, just the barest of touches. A shudder runs through her body. With the same fingertip, I part that fur, seeking her clit. It practically jumps out to meet my finger, rigid and slick. At my first touch, she whimpers and presses her pubis against my hand. Teasing, I pull away, but then I give her what she is seeking. First and second fingers grasp the taut little knob between them, squeezing, while the rest dabble in her soaked folds.

Ruby moans, arches backward to open herself to my hand. I slide my fingers back and forth in her sex, spreading her wetness from the sensitive button at the apex to pucker of muscle at the back. When I graze that spot, her whole body jerks. High voltage. I try a fingertip there, working against the resistance I find. "No," she sighs, or maybe "Oh", as my well-lubricated digit slips partway inside her. I wriggle inside her, feel her clench down on my finger. Imagine that she's doing that to my cock, and almost lose it right there.

I twist the bottom of the vibrator. The motor is nearly silent, but the vibration sends a buzz up my arm and down into my groin. Oh, Ruby—

"Open wide, babe." I stroke the toy lengthwise through her folds, twice, lubricating it thoroughly. She jerks as the humming metal comes in contact with her engorged flesh. Then I take the dildo away and count to fifteen. She's quivering all over. I touch the tip to the whorl of her anus and leave it there. She trembles violently. For a moment, I think she will come just from this external stimulation. That's not enough for me though. I want to penetrate her. To screw her. I rotate the dildo slowly while applying steady pressure. It begins to slide into her anus. "Argh!" she cries, pushing her hips backward. Her sudden movement embeds the shaft deeply in her butt. She jerks forward again with another cry, almost pulling the toy from my grasp.

"Let me," I say, reaching my right arm around her hips and cupping her mound in my palm to steady her. She grinds herself against me. With the other hand I grasp the vibrator and begin a slow stroking. She relaxes slightly, allowing me to support her, opening herself so that I can enter her.

It's incredibly hot, watching that shiny rod disappear into her dark hole then reappear smeared with her fluids. Once, twice, a dozen times I plunge the thing into her. My cock gets harder with each thrust, until the throbbing becomes pain. I can't stand it any longer. I leave the vibrator jutting obscenely from her anus and unzip my fly. My erection springs from my pants, eager for action.

I rub it against her satin-smooth rear cheek. I can't help it. Somehow I expect her to object, but she is too far gone, quivering in time with the motor lodged in her butt-hole. I resume my thrusts with the dildo. Now my own pelvis is thrusting in time. My cock is lodged comfortably between her flesh and my pants, reveling in the freedom and the friction.

Dimly I hear a car pass, realize that it has slowed before moving on, but I don't care. I'm close to coming, and I sense that Ruby is too. I fuck her ass harder, faster, imagining all the while that it is my cock buried in that tight darkness. She moans and twists under the weight of my body. The come boils in my balls.

"Ruby," I whisper in her ear, "you're such a magnificent slut." I push the dildo in to the hilt with one hand, pinch her clit with the other. Her scream echoes through the hills. She clamps my hand between her thighs, nearly breaking my wrist. Her orgasm shudders through her in huge waves. As she crashes against me, I feel the cum rising in my stalk and spraying over her buttocks and back. A fountain of exquisite pleasure. I stagger, would fall but for her form braced against the rail.

Sunday Snog 217: Incognito (#newrelease #erotica #taboo)

Next Tuesday, the expanded and revised version of Incognito will be available for pre-order at Totally Bound. In preparation, I've got a sexy, romantic kiss excerpt from the book. Hope you like it!

When you're done with my snog, head back to Victoria's, for lots more sexy kisses.

 

Heathcliff met them at the door. He nosed suspiciously around Mark’s sandals, then jumped up on the bookshelf and stared at him. Mark held out his hand. Heathcliff gave it a perfunctory sniff. Then he began rubbing his head and chin against the outstretched fingers, purring loudly.

“He likes you,” said Miranda, delighted at Heathcliff’s approval of her new flame. “He’s a friendly cat, but he’s usually a bit standoffish for the first half hour or so.”

Mark scratched the orange tabby under the chin. The purr volume ratcheted up a notch.

“He’s great,” said Mark. “And this is a fantastic apartment. Fourteen-foot ceilings, oak floors, and a marble mantelpiece. Does the fireplace work?”

“You want a fire on a sweltering night like this?”

“Not when I’m with a hot number like you. But it might be cozy to cuddle up here in the winter.”

Miranda found that she was blushing. His joking compliment, plus his oblique reference to a future together, made her feel even warmer. “So, would you like a glass of wine? Or would you rather go across the street for coffee?”

Mark flopped down on her sofa as if it were his own. Heathcliff immediately curled up beside him. “Wine would be wonderful. Coffee would keep me awake, and I need to be rested for that lecture tomorrow.”

Miranda retrieved the open bottle of Pinot Grigio from the refrigerator and poured two glasses. Handing him one, she sat down next to him with her own goblet, on the opposite side from Heathcliff’s tawny body. “To London,” she said, raising her glass.

“To London, and other adventures.”

They took a few silent sips. What now? thought Miranda. She tingled all over from nervousness, but for once there was no knot of fear in her belly. Mark was looking at her, searching her face as if trying to read her thoughts. The silence lengthened. Ever so slowly, as if he were afraid that she might flee, he reached for her hand. His skin was warm and dry. She suddenly remembered the way he had stroked her palm, the first time they met. The recollection gave her a little thrill.

She wondered at her own shyness. Given her recent escapades, she could hardly be called sexually inexperienced, yet she felt as much like a virgin now as she had with Geoff.

He was still staring at her, their hands clasped. He must be waiting for me to make the first move, thought Miranda.

“Mark…”

“Miranda…”

They collapsed in laughter as they spoke simultaneously. Somehow, the shared humor erased the tension. Miranda turned toward him and kissed him.

His response was immediate and electrifying. His arms encircled her, pulling her close to his chest, while he returned her kiss with a ferocity that was astounding. It was a probing, aggressive, challenging kiss, a kiss that sought out her secrets. His tongue danced in her mouth, boldly exploring. Her sex rippled in response. It was almost as if his tongue was dancing down there, darting in and out of her swollen labia.

Miranda moaned and rubbed her breasts against his torso. Her nipples were hard and round as hazelnuts. She was hungry for him, dying to have him touch her.

As if in response to her thought, he slid one hand under her shirt and brushed a fingertip across her tit. That simple touch made her writhe. When he rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the sensations dragged her to the very edge of climax. He continued to kiss her, more voluptuously than before, tracing the outline of her lips with his tongue, nibbling and caressing.

Hazy with lust, Miranda realized that she had never been this aroused. Not with Geoff. Not with Big Daddy. Everything Mark did felt good. He smelled good, tasted good. She wanted him to surround her and penetrate her. She wanted their bodies to melt together into one.

Cover Reveal - Nasty Business

My BDSM romantic erotica novel Nasty Business is about to be re-released by Fireborn Publishing. The book was orphaned last year when I broke off with the publisher, and I'm really happy to have it available again.

Fireborn has done a great new cover, as you can see!

The book will be officially released Friday. I thought I'd whet your appetite with a blurb and excerpt.

Blurb

All's fair in love and business.

Ruby Maxwell Chen, lovely and ruthless CEO of a huge British business empire, is used to getting her way. When she encounters the strangely charismatic American entrepreneur Rick Martell, though, she wonders if she hasn't finally met her match.

 

From the trendy clubs of London to the Hollywood Hills, Ruby and Rick compete for ownership of a strategic factory in Malaysia. Neither has any qualms about using sexual wiles to smooth the path to success. Neither anticipates that their mutual attraction will turn into something far more intense and difficult to control.

As their struggle for dominance escalates, they draw their employees and associates into their outrageous power games. The stakes could scarcely be higher, as Ruby and Rick play for the ultimate prize: a night of total physical surrender.

Excerpt 

"Bravo.” A soft, melodious male voice, and then the sound of applause. “I’m extremely impressed.”

I pull myself upright. Did someone dare to watch me and my medieval servitor?

I have just been finger-fucked to exhaustion, yet my first reaction is a wave of total, incomprehensible lust. Incomprehensible, because the man who stands between the parted curtains is not at all my type. He is short and wiry. His hair is scraggly and bit too long around his ears, and he has a dreadful, drooping black mustache. He wears nondescript jeans and a khaki shirt.

Somehow, though, he radiates sexuality. His aura is palpable, the air thick and sticky as syrup. He fixes me with his intense, dark eyes and grins. I feel like I am melting. I want to spread my legs wider, desperately offer him my swelling sex for him to use as he will.

I struggle with my impulses, close my legs decisively and try to stare him down. “I gather you were spying on me and my admirer.”

“Indeed. A most entertaining and instructive tableau.” He enters the balcony space, letting the curtains close behind him, and picks up the flogger. The knotted thongs dangle an inch above my cleavage. “You seem to be quite an expert in the arts of discipline.”

“Hardly,” I say, taking the whip from him, trying to take control of the interaction. “I am just beginning to explore the possibilities.

“But,” I say, my eyes narrowing as I watch his reaction, “I do find myself quite sensitive to my partners’ desires to yield to my power.”

“I could see that. You knew what he wanted, and you gave it to him.” He pauses, and searches my face. “But, do you know what I want?”

Truly, I have no idea. He seems fascinated by the flogger, but I sense only a hint of submission in him, a playful curiosity totally different from the aching need of my recent conquest.

His eyes play over my body in a leisurely fashion, appreciative, it seems, but not urgent. Surreptitiously, I glance at his fly: an appealing bulk there, but no indication of arousal.

I, on the other hand, am hornier than I have been in weeks. Maybe months. Or ever. My clit throbs like a sore tooth. I lean forward so that my breasts part invitingly, and lick my painted lips.

“Tell me what you want,” I purr. “I’m feeling generous tonight, and just might grant your request.”

He leans toward me in answer, and grasps my chin. Strange electricity flows from his touch. My breasts ache. My cunt is on fire.

“I want you to take me home with you,” he says with a cryptic smile. And then he kisses me.

I am not sentimental. I am not romantic, susceptible, easily mastered. But I swear, I could drown in this kiss.

His lips are smooth and full, his tongue demanding. He tastes of peppermint, and behind that, an aromatic trace of pipe tobacco. I smell his cologne, something clean, woodsy, Scandinavian.

I do not want to give in, and yet I do. I return his kiss, open my mouth wide to his probing. He senses my partial surrender and presses his advantage. He has slipped his hand inside my vest, now, and is pinching my nipple hard.

I love it. I am awash with lust. I am dying for him to take me. My sex is liquid, spilling over. My scent rises in the velvet-draped space. I know that I cannot hide my desire, but still I try.

“You seem most enthusiastic,” I say, my voice surprisingly steady. “But why should I allow you into my personal space?”

“Because you want to,” he says, deftly extricating my breast from its leather casing and planting a kiss on its tip. “And because you think that you will have more control on your home territory. As an interloper, I will necessarily be at a disadvantage.”

He is right. Many women would feel vulnerable, bringing a stranger into their home, but I am more confident on my own turf than in some unfamiliar locale. I am astonished by his perspicacity. Who is this man? He appears so ordinary and yet there is both physical attraction and psychological intrigue.

“Let’s go, then,” I say, trying to take the offensive.

“Just one moment,” he replies, and swallows me up in another one of those kisses. My resistance is even more feeble than before. After all, I tell myself, it is only a kiss.

This book sizzles! Get ready. I'll have a contest to win a copy the day of release!

Undressing for Love

By David S. Russell (Guest Blogger)

Greetings. I am a writer in the genres of translation, journalism, poetry and fiction. As a journalist, I have had many critical articles published in the online magazine  Poetry Express Newsletter. My translation of the 16^th Century Spanish epic La Araucana by Alonso de Ercilla, is published by Amazon. I have one collection of poems and proses, Prickling Counterpoints in paperback, and much more published online and in anthologies, including those produced by Forward Press. Some of my speculative prose and verse has appeared in the online International Times.

I am also a visual artist, and there will be an exhibition of prints of my artworks at the Gallery Atlantis in Jackson, Tennessee, USA, in the spring of 2015. 
 

In addition to that I am a guitarist-singer-songwriter, with many CD albums, including Bacteria Shrapnel and Kaleidoscope Concentrate, plus many tracks on YouTube under David Russell. The most downloaded tracks there are Microscope and Symbiotic Suffocation.

I was stimulated to write romance/erotica by a close friend who produced some beautiful work in that idiom. I find writing romance is soothing and uplifting, a good counterweight to my struggles with the speculative and the critical. I had to overcome many inhibitions to enter this area; in some ways I had been brought up to be a prudish Victorian. What emerged from my efforts has been labeled as ‘soft vanilla’ or literary romance by some of my reviewers. To this date I cannot write in the fully explicit mode; to me these matters should be described obliquely and poetically – so much more of a turn-on. My characters are intellectual and introspective; they carefully premeditate their scenarios.

I think I have a wardrobe fetish, as the article below will demonstrate:

Undressing for Love

For me, sex is nothing without refined, dramatic foreplay. Dressing and undressing are the kingpin of that foreplay. There are five basic kinds of unrobing which can be brought into any encounter.

Girl undresses in front of boy: any girl that takes the disrobing initiative can get really proud and confident, and pre-establish her control over the love scene. Girls: do a self-striptease in front of the mirror; love the sight of your bodies. say – however great you look in any outfit, you look ten times lovelier with your clothes off.

Boy undresses in front of girl: come on: get over your shyness, boys. Do your own self-striptease: do as the girls do.

Boy undresses girl: every boy should know how to disrobe a girl properly, and make her feel great as her gorgeous body is revealed.

Girl undresses boy: be liberated, girls. How many boys, deep inside, want to be your beautiful hunks, your sex-objects. (And they also have their feminine side).

Boy and girl undress each other: great to alternate – each partner taking off each other’s garments in sequence (OK: the alternation can be made with 1 & 2).

Any couple fancying each other should first get a mutual eyeful at a workout centre or a swimming pool. Swimsuits proclaim beauty and allure, They have an air of mystery; they get the imagination going. Arms and legs moving in the water evoke the pulsing rhythms of love. I imagine beautiful girls doing the backstroke giving themselves to me in total love.

Great to go through a few wardrobe changes within one love session. Start off both comfortably dressed for preliminary necking and petting. Skin-tight gear is really uncomfortable for this, so try something looser. Girls: make sure the zip on your jeans us easy to handle, or wear a skirt that is easy to lift during petting. You must offer some token thigh to lead your boy on, and help clinch your control of him.

Great to start the ecstatic process while your French kisses are really hotting up on the sofa, getting longer, breathier, deeper. Girls: hold the crown of your boy’s head as he curls tongues with you; unbutton his shirt, feel down his torso and back, start to undo his trousers. Boys: put one arm around your girl’s waist; with the other, gently raise her skirt, feel her thighs, unbutton her blouse, feel her back, press her breasts inside her bra. don’t undo it yet. and if you can do all this while holding a kiss, it’s fabulous.

You’re probably lying on the sofa at this point. Now stand and face each other. Let skirt and trousers fall. Show yourselves to each other as if you were modelling. Have a really tight embrace in your underwear; keep it on for the moment. boys: now undo your girl’s bra, and do it gently, delicately – watch those flimsy shoulder straps. Girls: lift your arms in the air as he does it. You conquer him through the gesture of surrender.

Now – to build up more suspense, a wardrobe change. One of you stay in the bedroom or lounge to change, the other go into the bathroom.

Some wardrobe ideas – swimwear. This can be great, bringing the beach into the bedroom. Boys: build up a collection of boxer shorts and trunks of different shapes and sizes. don’t be shy: try them on in front of the mirror. See which you look/feel sexiest in. Girls are turned on by boxer shorts – but trunks, right proportion in the right light, can give that second wave.

Girls: try on your one-pieces, bikinis, lingerie and bodystockings in front of the mirror; get high on your auto-erotic kicks. See which is really you, at your strongest and sexiest. (I feel that 40s and 50s retro one-pieces still have the edge; interested to hear readers’ opinions. Or how about wearing swimsuit under lingerie? One extra layer gives more suspense, and a bit of see-through more still.)

Put on tee-shirts and shorts. Imagine you meet and fall for each other on the beach. Peel off each other’s shirts, tops and shorts – strip each other for glorious athletic action. (Girls: you may prefer a bathrobe to a tee-shirt; that’s fine.) It’s great to feel the adrenalin pushing against your costumes and against your partner’s body as you’re poised to plunge for the swim of love. do plenty of hand play around the edges of your suits. Boys: run your hands down in sweeping curves over your girl’s bra and cleavage, and down her back. Feel inside her bra if it’s not too tight. Do the same on her hips. Girl: feel your boy’s hips and thighs by the edge of his trunks.

Turn the lights down low as you finally remove your costumes. Good to stand up and do so before you finally go to bed. Boys: taking off a glamorous one-piece takes a steady hand; cultivate one. Girls: some sexy trunks have knotted waistbands; be practised with knots.

Other ideas: Boys: uniforms and period gear. Girls: if you can get flowing ball gowns, that’s marvellous. It’s one of my favourite turn-ons to see a girl stepping out of a voluminous, or a skimpy, gown to show off a swimmer’s body. Schoolgirl gym slips are wonderful for petting.

A really good two-way strip can lift either/both of you up to a great androgynous feeling, break down your barriers with each other. So, macho woman and feminine man, get it together. Great, beautiful sex can free you from the constrictions of your gender categories.

Enrich your love lives with a good (un)dress sense.

Dreamtime Sensuality by David Russell

Many a dream can be realised with a little forethought. The characters in this quartet of stories are intelligent, sensitive and literary. They are also supremely voyeuristic and open-minded. Their intelligence is counterbalanced by inhibitions, which they can only lose by premeditated seduction scenarios, which relate intimately to their professional, creative and cultural lives. The great effort each couple puts into arranging a scenario seems to enhance the quality of the experience. A great source of inspiration for this and other works has been the novel The Girl Beneath the Lion by André Pieyre de Mandiargues.

Seductive Semaphore: Fashion Designer Bethesda and journalist Hector live opposite each other, with windows facing. They make initial contact through visible, provocative gestures. Soon afterwards, they get direct contact when Hector assists Bethesda with her folio. She invites him round to model for some of her fashion creations, and proceeds to seduce him. The seduction continues with a ritual visit to a sports centre, and then to a beach. They leave it open as to whether their relationship could ever become long-term.

The Heroine and the Author: Dreamer Hecate discovers she has a terminal illness. She wants to make the most of the time she has left by being celebrated in literature as a charismatic, legendary figure. She meets Ferdinand, a ghost writer, who is happy to undertake this massive project with her. In the process, she gets an idea of his physique through jogging and the fitness centre. Then there is a seduction scene inspired by the literary models of Sappho and Donne. Being ‘open-minded’, they make a pact for each one to go and have a sexual adventure – his hetero, hers lesbian. Their relationship is enhanced by this extra dimension.

Dreamtime Sensuality: Romona, highly literary and highly inhibited, goes to an exotic island location. She deeply desires a passionate encounter. At the Pension where she stays, she meets Stefano, who fulfils her requirements exactly. The proprietress of the Pension picks up on Romona’s shyness, and gives her reassurance, including some practice in the art of kissing. Romona orchestrates an elaborate beach seduction scenario, and they are both fulfilled. They never meet again, but their exchange of emails and text messages goes on indefinitely.

Dancing with Danger: Verona is a scriptwriter and Gareth an archaeologist. They both have ‘retreats’ near the coast, and discover their common interests. Verona contrives a half-seduction on a deserted beach, wearing 18^th century retro gear – related to their common interests. After some further encounters, they give each other a ‘dare’ to go and have a really risky encounter with someone really dodgy. Gareth finds a young woman on the run. Verona has a rapturous encounter with someone who gets hauled in by the police, suspected of terrorism. She uses her charm on the interrogating police officer to extricate herself. So Verona and Gareth both meet up again, to tell their respective tales.

Excerpt

Hecate read some verses of Sappho, which she felt totally appropriate to his slender grace, so nearly androgynous. She quoted a phrase demanding his fixed, concentrated stare into her eyes. The eye contact was clinched Hecate’s introduction was a quote from her.

Ferdinand responded to the prompt; he knew what he had to do—gradually, at intervals, he removed his garments one by one as she breathily read the hypnotic, seductive phrases.

His garments came off with ease and grace, he obviously had some long-repressed desire to do this. At last, he stood before her, beautiful, naked, and slender. Somehow, his spirit prevailed over his earlier reticence, he shed his shyness with his clothing. Since she saw him in trunks, Hecate anticipated this moment with such relish. If the pool had been empty when they were there, she would have taken them off there, or in the shower. Perhaps something could happen, or even be premeditated in the future, on a deserted beach, secluded amid the dunes. 

 

She handed him a volume of the collected poems of John Donne. “Now, I think you know which one I want you to read me. Hmm…while we’ve been working together, I bet you’ve had some reveries of me undressing, you undressing me.”

“I have to admit that is so and I know which poem you mean, it’s Elegy Nineteen—To His Mistress Going to Bed.

“We really are on the same wavelength darling. I had learned of that poem as a young girl, with a desperate desire one day to enact it. Every word of it struck home as I disrobed alone, for years I yearned for that lovely partner to give me those instructions live.”

Ferdinand beamed, then quoted from near the end of the poem referring to the poet’s nakedness at the beginning of the action. Then he proceeded to read, with his lovely, hypnotic voice.

He really made Hecate’s girdle feel like Saturn’s rings As she undid her sash and cast it down, she felt her abdomen was bathed in heavenly light, visible only to spiritual eyes.

The request to remove her ‘breastplate’ gave her an etheric shudder. Taking off the brooch at the top of her dress felt like casting away a shield, affirming that strife and combat had been replaced by love. 
 

In response to the exhortation to unlace, she felt deliciously nervous as her fingers twitched on her zips and buttons.

As the gown went off following the next command, Hecate felt she had emerged from a perennial cocoon, that she was the sun liberated from the constricting veils of night.

As for a ‘coronet’, Hecate was only wearing a slide, but removing it certainly helped her locks flow freely.

 

It was great to feel liberated from footwear; earlier on her high heels had felt so sexy. But now her stockinged feet tingled with electric desire.

 

With her underwear, admittedly she found nylon, calico and silk sexier than linen, but the word, so sensually uttered, really relevant. (from The Heroine and the Author – Story 2)

Book Links: 

www.devinedestinies.com/Dreamtime-Sensuality-Antho/

http://www.amazon.com/Dreamtime-Sensuality-David-Russell-ebook/dp/B00MJ5YQ36

www.manicreaders.com/index.cfm?disp=bookDetail&bookid=47878

www.barnesandnoble.com/s/edmunds-r-david-russell-david

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/480295

Sunday Snog #97: Twentieth Century

It's Sunday and I've brought out one from the vaults. Here's a bit of oral pleasure from Twentieth Century, a wistful paranormal short story first published in - let me go check - yikes! 2003, and now available in the free reading pages of my website. It's not exactly romance, but I at least think it's romantic. It's based on an actual shop I used to pass regularly, called "Twentieth Century". I actually bought a vintage necklace there once, for a New Year's Eve Party.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Meanwhile, after sampling my snog, don't forget to visit Victoria's Blisse Kiss page for more Sunday smooching.

"The necklace, if you please?" Beth ventured a glance at his face as she returned the pendant to him. He appeared composed, but glancing down at his trousers, she thought she detected signs that her state of deshabille was having some effect on him.

The jeweler circled behind her, draped the necklace around her neck and fastened it. Beth thought that he was especially careful not to touch her, and that thought drove her mad. She was almost ready to beg, to fall on her knees before him and offer - what? Anything. Whatever he might desire, if only he would lay those cool hands on her fevered flesh again.

"Look," he whispered in her ear. "See how lovely you are." And she was. The cameo nestled between her breasts, blue as a madonna's robe. The matching silhouettes in her ears swayed as she turned her head from side to side to evaluate the effect. She looked aristocratic, refined, despite her nudity.

Beth turned her gaze from her own form to her companions eye's, reflected in the glass. That blue fire was burning there, unrestrained. "It is unfortunate that I do not currently have a Victorian corset in stock," he murmured. "That would be so appropriate with these jewels. However, I do have something else that you might appreciate." From a wooden chest in the corner, he extracted a folded piece of fabric, intricately patterned in jewel-like colors.

He unfurled it behind Beth's back. It was a triangular silk shawl bordered with long fringe. Complex, intricate designs flowed across it, ruby, emerald, lapis, asymmetrical and compelling. "This is an original William Morris piece," he said softly as he let the silk settle over her shoulders. The edges draped down over her breasts, sheathing them in gorgeous swirls of color. Beth noticed that her erect nipples poked brazenly through the shawl. She was suddenly dizzy as a wave of desire swept through her.

His hands hovered above her shoulders again, as if he would smooth the silk over her body, but he did not move. "Do you like it?" he asked softly. There was another, more intimate question in his eyes.

Beth was silent. She reached up, grasped his hands, and brought them down to cup her silk-swathed fullness. She expected him to pull away, and so she held him there as she held his eyes in the mirror, bold and shy at once.

He did not resist her, though. Instead he squeezed her breasts, kneaded them gently, rolled the swollen tips between his slender fingers until Beth moaned aloud. The silk slithered over her skin, teasing and sensual.

She closed her eyes again and leaned against him, letting the wonderful sensations wash over her. Slight as he was, he had no trouble supporting her weight. She felt the rough wool of his trousers against her buttocks, and sensed the hardness beneath.

Fear stabbed briefly through her. She knew so little of men. Would it be painful? Would she disappoint him? Then her doubts dissolved into new moans as he slid his arms around her waist and brushed his fingertips across her pubic fur.

The lightest of pressures, the briefest of touches, but it sent tremors through her sex. Instinctively, Beth parted her legs and rocked her pelvis forward, seeking more solid contact. The shopkeeper obliged, slipping one slender finger into the mass of moist curls to her center. Sparks leapt from that finger, raced through her, leaving her weak and breathless.

"Please..." she tried to say, not really knowing what she was asking for but wanting it more than anything. She had no voice, though, no will. She could barely stand.

The proprietor smiled at her reflection, kind, encouraging. "Come here, my dear." He led her to the velvet chaise. "Lie back. Relax."

Beth's mind flailed wildly, even as her body obeyed the man's suggestions. She searched his mild, middle-aged face, seeking reassurance. In response, he knelt in front of her, gently but firmly pushing her thighs apart. Then he removed his glasses, and his eyes were unveiled. Beth thought of the ocean, of the sky, of a gas flame, azure bright, almost transparent. And then of a star sapphire, ever-changing light sparkling in blue depths.

Then he bent his mouth to her sex, and Beth forgot to think.

Sensation and emotion, velvet wetness and diamond sharpness, his tongue a feather and a sword. She writhed and shook, keening like a madwoman. The shawl slipped away from her body. The velour upholstery grew damp beneath her. Beth did not notice. He licked, nibbled, probed her depths, breathed her, drank her, buried himself in her, swallowed her whole. She did not know what it was that he did, only that it brought near-unbearable ecstasy. The world shattered and fell away as pleasure drowned her.

****

You can read the whole story here. Let me know what you think...