Living out her raunchiest fantasies! @RaunchyIs @RuanWillow #BookLoversDay #BDSM #DaddyDom

Blurb

Alexa has missed out for long enough. Life with her ex had stuck her with a vanilla sex life. All the deep, dark fantasies she had hidden away began to bubble up once she became single. Her journey toward sexual freedom skyrocketed when she learned about neighborhood sex secrets at a pool party where she was suddenly calling two neighbors ‘Daddy’. As she melted into the secret sex world emerging before her in the seemingly boring square mile of homes, she deliciously found herself assimilating into the hidden underworld of an alternative lifestyle.

Her sexual explorations exploded as she let go of traditional societal conventions and chose to take chances. Instead of playing alone in her bedroom, she began to live out the raunchiest depths of her fantasies as her new partners set out to help her fulfill her sexual bucket list. Alexa spread her wings doing taboo acts in real life that, until then, she’d only watched on a screen or lived merely in her dreams. Her Daddies became her guardians, deliverers of her desires, and directors of sexual heights she never thought were possible.

But then her new world gets threatened. Someone doesn’t want her in the new triad of Daddy, Daddy, and good girl. Not only can the good guys turn bad, but bad guys also come back, and only the protected good girls can withstand the storms. Through it all, she finally understands one thing for sure, she is most definitely a good girl, and good girls have the most fun when they follow their ‘Daddies’.

A Daddy Dom/submissive story of control and submission that flourishes as mutual sexual freedoms. The book contains elements of mild BDSM, multiple partners, exhibitionism, experimentation, cheating, and lots of pleasure. ALL acts are consensual and characters are 18 and over. Enjoy a story of fantasy later-in-life exploration into open sexuality. “Daddy” is used as a term for leader.

Buy Links:

https://books.ruanwillowauthor.com/neighborhoodsexsecrets

https://storyoriginapp.com/universalbooklinks/cae4ca2e-1de0-11ee-8a35-c3917853edbf

https://books2read.com/u/3R5MZj

https://www.amazon.com/Neighborhood-Sex-Secrets-Ruan-Willow-ebook/dp/B0C87HRHPB/

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Neighborhood-Sex-Secrets-Ruan-Willow-ebook/dp/B0C87HRHPB/

Excerpt

“Fuck, I want you,” he said fervently.

I’d have laid down with my legs spread just from that sentence alone. I hadn’t heard such a wonderful thing since my twenties. My mind reeled; it was at war at once both with joy and confusion. But there was no way in fuck I was stopping.

I pulled back from him, bit my lip, and smiled. “I’ve wanted you for years, Kyle.” It was so freeing to say it out loud.

He smiled a deep smile. “I know.”

I swiped my palm along the precum oozing out of his cock, deftly spreading it around his firm skin.

He moaned and slid his fingers into my bikini bottoms. I threw my head back and moaned as he tickled his fingers along my lower lips. The rapid motion of his fingers along my wet folds got me gyrating my hips. Fuck, that felt amazing.

His eyes were so hungry for me that they set my passion ablaze. A strange urge to bite him bloomed in me.

“Fuck me,” I said between my pants. “Please.”

He chuckled. “Beg me some more.” His eyes twinkled as I’d never seen them before.

I stifled a laugh. He was clearly too horny to be serious. So I played along.

“Please, fuck me. I want you inside me.”

His grin grew bigger. “More,” he demanded as he began to finger fuck my sopping wet pussy.

“Please, I want your big dick slapping the inside of my walls. Fuck me.”

“Fuck me what?” he asked with even more gumption in his voice.

“Fuck me hard.”

He withdrew his hand from my hot, wet cunt. In one swift motion, he flipped me around and bent me over the pile of floaties.

I gasped in shock as my face smashed hard into the bouncy mattresses.

He fondled my ass and pressed his shaft against the crack of my buttocks.

“Fuck me hard, what?” he said with arrogance.

His coercive, stern tone sent a shiver down my spine. I moaned as he rubbed his palm along my labia.

The phrase was on the tip of my tongue and, as he rammed his fingers into my slit, I uttered the words I longed to say. “Daddy. Fuck me hard, Daddy.”

He released a slow, satisfied chuckle. “Yes, baby girl. Yes.” He left me untouched for a moment, then I heard the music outside get louder. “There. That’s perfect,” he declared. “If I’m going to make you scream, we need a cover.”

“Oh, fuck yes,” I moaned out. I couldn’t contain my glee. I was going to get fucked. And by Kyle. My excitement came out as a series of whimpers.

He intended to fuck me indeed. His passionate grabs delivered the promise of his words as he pressed deep into my flesh. He continued to finger fuck me as I wiggled on the pile of floaty toys, my fingernails digging into the soft squishy plastic. He pulled his fingers out and tapped my thighs.

I obeyed and spread my legs further apart. He spanked my clit with his open palm and I screamed out.

“Good girl,” he said compassionately.

His words made me shiver, they gave me pride as I let him bring me closer to orgasm. He hit my clitoris hard and fast on repeat.

He leaned over my ear and I savored his skin all along my back. He whispered, “You a clit junkie? Or do you need G-spot too?”

I nodded, then said, “Yes.”

He laughed and smacked my clit into a big orgasm. I screamed again as I peaked. My body shuddered and twitched as the contractions traveled from my pelvis out to my body.

“Good girl,” he said again, which threw me into another peak of the orgasm.

My body jerked through another rise to a climax. I gasped and panted as he massaged my clitoris.

“Now I’m going to fuck you hard. Be my whore?”

I nodded emphatically. I already was that.

He pressed his mushroom head inside my cum-soaked opening and we both groaned out. He wasn’t gentle, but pounded me like he was desperate.

I grunted as his body smacked into my ass. His sounds drove me insane.

“More,” I begged, my voice sounding like some other woman’s.

He fucked me harder. My feet kept slipping on the wet concrete floor and my full body weight now pressed the pile of pool toys down. He rammed into me with so much power and stamina, I was hurled into another orgasm.

He quickly withdrew his cock from me and his cum splatted across my ass.

The door of the pool shed opened and I gave a little cry.

I didn’t want to glance back for fear it was Mandy.

“You are late,” Kyle said like he wasn’t a bit sorry.

“I couldn’t get away. Miranda kept jabbering on about the deals she got at Sam’s.” I knew that voice. My mouth fell open as I finally had the nerve to glance back at the speaker.

It was Allen. The neighbor from down the street who had seven kids with his wife, Miranda. His downtrodden look broke my heart. The image of his wife walking her dogs behind my house earlier flitted through my brain. I wondered what alternate universe I’d just fallen into.

He chuckled heartily as his expression went from annoyance to amusement. “Fuck. I missed it, didn’t I?”

I stared at the two of them. It felt more like a dream than reality.

Kyle licked his cum off my ass, then helped me to stand up.

I slumped against him as all the feel good hormones swam in my body, unable to stay upright alone.

“Oh, babe. You okay?” he asked like a good Daddy.

“You fucked me into a stupor, I guess.” I smiled and gave a single flighty guffaw. Calling him ‘Daddy’ hadn’t felt fake. I suppose he’d have to prove that. Maybe I just wanted it so bad that I just gave myself permission to claim it. I could back out.

“Don’t look so shocked, Alexa.” Allen ran his hand down the mound at his crotch.

I shook my head and didn’t mask my bewildered look. “How can I not?”

“Nice tits,” Allen said with a nod. “I’ve been hungering to see those for years.”

About the Author

Ruan Willow is an erotica/erotic romance author, sexuality/erotica fiction podcaster at the Oh F*ck Yeah with Ruan Willow Podcast a podcast enjoying the ranking place of top 50 in sexuality podcasts on Apple Podcasts, an erotic audiobook narrator/voiceover artist, blogger, and editor on Medium for the publication Wylde Erotic Cravings. She is also published on Medium, Frolic Me, and Literotica. She loves spending time with family and friends, interacting with fans, cooking, sex, reading, travel, sex, being outdoors, swimming, sex, podcasting, and learning more about sex. Did you catch all the sex? She’s giggling right now thinking about you reading all about sex. Yup, she loves to laugh!

Links: https://linktr.ee/RuanWillow

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Join us for Charity Saturday, 27 August 2023! #CharitySundaySignup #Altruism #Marketing

Image by Cindy Lever from Pixabay

Since 2017, I’ve been devoting the last Sunday in each month to a post which features some worthy cause. Often, other bloggers join me in this effort, turning the event into a blog hop. This month’s Charity Sunday blog hop will take place this coming Sunday, the 27^th of August.

Charity Sunday is a meme designed to give authors and bloggers a chance to give back to the world—as well as, hopefully, to attract new readers.

How does it work? Each participant selects a favorite charity. Before the date, you should prepare a blog post that: 1) talks about the charity and why you support it; 2) provides a link to the charity; 3) includes an excerpt from one of your books; 4) includes the code to show links to other participating blogs.

It’s fun if you can make the excerpt relate somehow to your chosen charity, but this isn’t required.

For every comment left on your post, you commit to giving some amount to the relevant charity. The specific charity and the amount to donate are up to you. You can set an upper limit to your donation if you want.

If you’d like to participate in the next Charity Sunday on August 27^th, just sign up using the Linky List below. Please be sure that the link you enter will lead directly to your Charity Sunday post, not just to the home page of your blog.

I’ve created a new banner image for 2023. You can download it from here: https://www.lisabetsarai.com/2023CharitySundayBanner.jpg

For more detailed instructions, go here:

https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2019/08/sign-up-for-charity-sunday.html

For an example post, check out this link from my last Charity Sunday:

https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2023/07/charity-sunday-stand-with-ukraine.html

---

The deeper she digs, the greater the danger – #Thriller #Vampires #Reporter @AlexanderLyndi

Blurb

Looking for a fresh start, Sara Woods takes a job as a news reporter in a small town. Her first assignment for the Ralston Courier is to investigate of a string of deaths, all young women, all her age. To deal with chronic back pain, she seeks help at a local healing center. She soon becomes convinced that there is something strange about the Goldstone Clinic. Its doctors and nurses are all the picture of perfect beauty and health, while their patients at first seem to improve and then mysteriously deteriorate.

Dr. Rick Paulsen, a physician at the local hospital, offers to teach Sara how to access her internal power, enhancing hidden skills and revealing secrets from her past. Police officer Brendon Zale also takes an interest in Sara, watching her every move and trying to get close to her. The deeper she digs into the Goldstone, the harder it is to deny links to the paranormal. Can she figure out what is going on and who to trust before it’s too late?

Buy Links

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CFDKZ8BZ/

Paperback coming soon!

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1143908981?ean=2940185612927

Smashwords
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1435752:

Book Trailer https://youtu.be/pWjJT2upVlo

 

Excerpt

The waiter brought the souvlaki and more bread. After he left, I leaned forward and put my elbows on the table. “So what’s going on here? Why did you call me?”

Rick’s blue eyes dissected me. “Because there’s something unusual about you.”

Oh, please. That was as bad as ‘What’s your sign, baby?’ “Do I seem naive enough to fall for that line?”

“Not really.” He speared a chunk of lamb and dipped it in the creamy cucumber sauce. “That doesn’t make it any less true. And I think you really care about Lily Kimball, and what happened to her.”

“Then you believe something ‘happened.’” Remembering his outburst at the hospital, I added, “You think she was killed by someone. You even know who.” I watched his face for reaction.

“I suspect. I don’t know.” He took a long drink of water, as if he were trying to swallow something unpalatable.

“But you haven’t gone to the police.” He shook his head. “Why not?”

He started to answer and then Athena swept over, wanting to make sure everything was to her dear doctor’s satisfaction. She effused with grand passion about how wonderful Rick Paulsen was, as a medical professional and as a man, her praise transparently designed to convince me, as his dinner partner and potential life mate, of his worth. He squirmed as she continued, but seemed loath to interrupt her. Once we had assured her that everything was delightful, she withdrew at last, to observe from behind the cash register.

When he didn’t answer my last question, I asked again. “Why haven’t you gone to the police?”

“You don’t understand. The police won’t be any help in this matter.”

“They’re investigating her death—”

“They’re not investigating her death! They’re just going through the motions until everyone forgets about her and they can toss her file in a cabinet, never to be seen again!” He slapped his fork onto the table, a flush of anger suffusing his face, all the way to the tips of his ears. “Just like the others.”

About the Author

Alana Lorens has been a published writer for more than forty years, while working as a pizza maker, a floral designer, a journalist and a family law attorney. Currently a resident of Asheville, North Carolina, the aging hippie loves her time in the smoky blue mountains.

She writes romance and suspense as Alana Lorens, and sci-fi, fantasy and paranormal mystery as Lyndi Alexander. One of her novellas, THAT GIRL’S THE ONE I LOVE, is set in the city of Asheville during the old Bele Chere festival. She is the author of the Pittsburgh Lady Lawyers series, which draws on her 25 years as a family law attorney in the state of Pennsylvania. One of the causes close to her heart came from those years as well–the fight against domestic violence. She volunteered for many years at women’s shelters and provided free legal services to women and children in need.

She lives with her daughter on the autism spectrum, who is the youngest of her seven children, and she is ruled by three crotchety old cats, and six kittens of various ages.

Author Links

Website http://Alana-lorens.com

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

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4829967.Alana_Lorens

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Alana-Lorens/e/B005GE0WBC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/alana-lorens

Twitter: @AlexanderLyndi

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/alexander_lyndi/

https://lyndialexander.wordpress.com/2023/08/14/living-with-remnants-of-fire/

Celebrating sexuality – Embracing Passion – #EroticRomance #Polyamory #Menage @AdrianaKraft

By Adriana Kraft (Guest Blogger)

The Passion series got its start over two decades ago, when I learned that my father’s sister, a pioneering sex researcher, had died. I’ve thought of her often – how proud she would be of what my husband and I are writing, how advanced she was in her acceptance of all sexual orientations, her openness to all sexual practices that do not cause harm, and her enjoyment of erotic art. There’s probably not much out there in the world of sex that she didn’t encounter across the many interviews she conducted.

In some ways, our culture has become far more open about so many topics and practices that were still seen as taboo in her era.

But many stigmas still remain. In the Passion series, we wanted to give a nod to my aunt’s heritage – research in sexuality – as well as to provide erotic entertainment and a happy ending. We wanted to explore the stigma that attaches to adults who have sex on camera for others to view. How do they manage satisfying personal relationships, when their sexual activities will never be exclusive to one person? Can they find a partner who can accept what they do for a living?

In the first two books in the series, the partners who fall in love already work for the fictional Center for Sexuality and Sex Practices. They’re challenged to sort out the difference between great sex and true love, but they don’t have to overcome a partner’s judgment. In Embracing Passion, the hero is an outsider. In fact, he’s a cop, hoping to break up what he’s convinced is a prostitution ring. He is in for more than a few surprises.

Blurb

A single wrong assumption can be costly…

Now in her late twenties, Rosanne Falcon enjoys a life that has finally come together—a Ph.D., a prestigious research job, and two exquisite lovers, one of each gender, to complete the package. The intense bond she shares with Simone Stone was augmented rather than broken when Simone met and married Boyd Roberts, and the three have forged a fulfilling polyamory relationship. More would only be trouble.

Widowed by a tragic accident several years earlier, Detective Thomas Walker is nearing retirement after twenty years on the police force and ready to change careers. Fully convinced the hot redhead who meets truckers at the rest area he’s staked out is a prostitute, he sets out to build his case against her. He is dead wrong, but each layer he uncovers of what she really does for a living challenges long held assumptions. Can he overcome his deep-seated bias to make room for what’s possible?

Available now at the publisher:

https://www.extasybooks.com/Embracing-Passion

Available soon at Amazon and other stores!

Excerpt

New York, New York 2014

“You’re telling me she’s doing nothing illegal?” Detective Thomas Walker remained stoic, assessing the graying man and woman he’d known for years. He’d stopped by the rest area kiosk to determine whether the couple managing the place was aware of the young redhead operating out of their parking area.

Raymond Stevens shrugged, and his wife, Nora, shook her head. “Dee’s a sweet girl,” Nora said. “She’s stopped by a few times with fresh coffee and doughnuts. She has a delightful smile and a big heart.”

“Coffee and doughnuts?” The damn woman was brazen, if not smart. These two wouldn’t likely testify against her. “What about you, Ray?”

The older man shrugged again and glanced at his wife. “She’s a nice girl. Not breaking any laws that I know of. She doesn’t camp overnight. I’ve been here at midnight, and the parking lot is empty. Sometimes her car is here before seven when we open. Of course, it’s not like she’s around on a daily basis.”

Tom shook his head and glanced at his watch. If she was on schedule, she was due back in about twenty minutes. He’d watched this drama unfold several times now. She’d have a car—a rental car—parked at the south end of the parking area. A trucker would pull through the parking area designated for trucks no later than mid-morning and stop across from her vehicle. The redhead would often kiss the driver before climbing down from the cab and stroll to her car as if she didn’t have a care in the world. The trucker would then be on his way.

And she was a nice girl doing nothing illegal? “Do you suppose she has a special interest in semis?” he said, more sharply than he’d intended.

“She’s not a whore,” Nora retorted, tucking a strand of hair back into her silver bun, “if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Really?”

“We’re not naïve,” Nora protested, “but several truckers over the past several months have talked to us about Dee. They praise her like she’s a modern-day Florence Nightingale. They’re discreet, never going into detail, but it’s clear they’ll defend her any way they have to. They describe her in glowing terms as easy going, a good listener, fun to laugh with.”

“I bet. She must be worth a lot.”

“Nora already said the girl’s not a prostitute.” Raymond bristled. “Whatever Dee does with those guys, she doesn’t charge a dime.”

Scowling, Tom said, “How do you know that?”

“We were more than a little curious at first when we realized there was a pattern of a woman parking a car here to go off with truckers. We wanted to be sure we weren’t being misused.”

“And the truckers talk to you about her? About not paying?”

“I don’t think anyone is trying to hide much,” Nora pointed out. The sixty-something woman’s eyes sparkled. “The guys probably aren’t telling their wives about her, if they have wives.”

“But they tell you?”

Raymond chuckled. “People coming through the rest area seldom tell us their names.”

Tom checked his watch again. The Stevenses smiled at him. “Thanks, I’d better be going.”

Nora nodded. “She should be back soon. She’s usually quite punctual.”

“Another plus, I assume. She must have a lot of repeat customers if she’s so damn good.”

“They’re not customers, and she’ll only go off with a trucker once,” Nora responded.

“Once? You sure?” That didn’t compute at all. Repeat customers was the foundation of the prostitution trade.

“Once.” Nora clucked at him. “Doesn’t that make Dee even more mysterious, perhaps more special to the guys? She’s almost like a mirage.”

“Or a will-o’-the-wisp,” Raymond said with a trace of awe.

“Oh, I do hope you get to meet her, Detective. You’ll find out that what we’re saying is true.” Nora beamed at him. “I’m sure you’ll like our Dee.”

“You bet I’m going to meet her,” he grumbled.

Tom walked toward his car, which he’d left parked next to the rental. He’d meet Dee, all right. Only her name wasn’t Dee. It was Rosanne Falcon. Twenty-eight years old. Five feet four. One hundred and ten pounds. Or so her driver’s license claimed. She lived in an upscale section of Brooklyn. The trade did well even in a poor economy.

He’d followed her to the rental car business the last time he’d staked out the rest area. There wasn’t enough time to devote to her case, there never was. He didn’t know much else about her yet. He didn’t know if she worked freelance or was part of a larger circle of women. He’d even checked out the Stevenses, in part because if he could get a line on her pimp, he might be able to crack something larger than a single working girl. He’d known Ray and Nora casually for years. They hadn’t seemed like pimp material, but he’d checked them out anyway. As he’d expected, they were squeaky clean.

The hissing of air brakes drew his attention to a Peterbilt coming to a stop in the truck section of the rest area opposite from where he stood. “Pay dirt,” he mumbled.

There she was, sitting in the passenger seat. He watched her turn and peck the driver on the cheek before climbing down to the pavement. She took a half dozen steps toward her car before turning to wave one more time to the trucker, who grinned broadly and waved back before shifting gears and pulling out toward the main highway.

Smiling happily, Rosanne Falcon nearly skipped her way to her car. He found it difficult to believe she wasn’t charging, but maybe she relied on huge tips.

The redhead didn’t even sober when she saw him standing between their cars. “Good morning,” she said, eyeing him openly. “I’m Rosanne Falcon. I’ve been wondering when you were going to introduce yourself.”

“What the...”

“Detective... I assume detective,” she said, tilting her chin.

He must’ve looked as rattled as he felt.

“You people always drive such non-descript cars that it’s obvious you’re a cop.” She scowled. “You seem pretty quiet. I assume you have some questions for me.”

About the Author

Adriana Kraft is the pen name for a married pair of retired professors writing erotic romance and erotic romantic suspense together. We like to think we’ve broken the mold for staid, fusty academics, and we hope lots of former profs are enjoying life as much as we are.

Having lived in many states across the Midwest, we now make our home in southern Arizona, where we enjoy hiking, golf, and travel, especially to the many Arizona Native American historical sites.

Together we have published more than fifty romance novels and novellas to outstanding reviews. Whether readers open our romantic suspense or our erotic romance, they can expect characters they care about, hot sex scenes, and a compelling story.

Author Links

Blog: https://www.adrianakraft.com/blog

Newsletter: Get your free copy of Swingers Light Up Vegas for Newsletter signups:

https://storyoriginapp.com/giveaways/d1c82f5e-9b43-11ed-8c5e-b712215e57d9

Twitter https://twitter.com/AdrianaKraft

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/adriana.kraft.5

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/author/adrianakraft

GoodReads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1578571.Adriana_Kraft

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/kraftadriana/

MeWe https://mewe.com/i/adriana1kraft

Mastodon https://mastodonbooks.net/@adrianakraftbooks

Sizzling Sunday: The Pornographer’s Apprentice – #Steampunk #SexToys #Erotica

Happy Sunday! Today I have a juicy, exclusive excerpt for you from The Pornographer’s Apprentice, first book in The Toymakers Guild trilogy. I’m working on putting together a boxed set of the series... so I thought I’d whet your appetite. Or should I say “wet your appetite”?

Enjoy!

Blurb

She wants to build sex toys... if they'll let her.

In prudish, patriarchal Victorian England, nineteen year old prodigy Gillian Smith finds a secret society dedicated to the erotic arts. She’ll need both her intellect and her physical charms to earn the permanent position she craves.

If you like steam punk erotica with a kinky feminist bent, you'll love The Pornographer's Apprentice.

Excerpt

Mrs. Featherstone shook her head. “You haven’t explained how you discovered the Guild, or why you think yourself suited to the work we do.”

Gillian extracted the catalogue from her holdall. “I found this among Uncle George’s books.”

The Director leafed through the provocative pages, a smile playing on her lips. “Hmm… Yes, the winter 1886 edition was rather spectacular… But an innocent young woman like you must have found our merchandise quite shocking.”

“Not at all. You should not make assumptions about my innocence, Mrs. Featherstone.”

“You may call me Amelia, if you wish.” The woman flashed a smile that struck Gillian as distinctly predatory. “At least when we are in private.”

Gillian sat up straight and boldly met the older woman’s gaze. “I’ve made good use of the volumes in my uncle’s library, both the technical tomes and the more —artistic titles. My theoretical grounding in carnal matters is as strong as my engineering background.”

“In carnal matters, theory alone will rarely suffice.”

“I do have some practical experience as well.” Hot blood rushed to Gillian’s cheeks, though her voice remained steady. “I’m no virgin—Amelia.”

“Oh?” The brunette’s slender fingers toyed with the lace framing her throat, before fluttering like butterflies over her concealed breasts. “I am pleased to hear that. In that case, why don’t you remove your bodice?”

There it was. Gillian had not been imagining the Director’s concupiscent interest. All at once, she understood that to be accepted into the Guild, she’d have to be brazen. She was determined to meet that challenge.

With silent efficiency, she unfastened the row of buttons that led from the high neck of her gown to the skirt. The blue-grey twill parted, revealing her white muslin chemise. Without hesitation, she shrugged off the garment and pulled her arms out of the three-quarter length sleeves. Her nipples snapped into tight nubs of sensation under the avid gaze of the other woman.

Amelia’s eyebrows shot up. “No corset? I approve.” She leaned closer. “Now show me your boobies.”

As aroused by Amelia’s directness as she was shocked, Gillian slipped the satin straps off her shoulders. She pushed the chemise down, crumpling it near her waist. Unconsciously she straightened her spine, elevating her modest but well-shaped breasts. Her flesh cried out for stimulation. She longed to cup her tits and stroke the tender nipples, but she still was not sure how her companion would react to that level of audacity.

She need not have worried.

“Touch yourself,” Amelia ordered. “I want to see what you like.”

Gillian required no further encouragement. She palmed her swelling flesh, squeezing and massaging the firm mounds. Every touch sent little sparks shooting down to her cunny. Grasping her throbbing nips between thumb and forefinger, she tugged gently. Invisible wires seemed to connect her nipples with the swollen bead at the apex of her sex. Her lower lips plumped and slid together. Her empty channel clenched. She’d been more than ready for a rogering after her dalliance with Ian. Now she was so hot she thought she’d expire if someone didn’t fuck her.

“That’s good,” Amelia murmured. “That’s lovely. Now lift your skirts and frig yourself until you spend.”

Oh, by Leibniz, no! She couldn’t. Could she? Self-pleasure was such a private thing. Regardless of her excitement, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to climax with a critical audience like Amelia.

The director sensed her confusion and reluctance. “Don’t be shy with me, Gillian. Don’t be coy.” Her voice held a hint of steel. “If you want to join us, you’ll do as I ask.”

Was she brave enough to fulfil Amelia’s demand? Her cunny screamed for stimulation. Meanwhile, Gillian knew that if she demurred, she might be turned away from Randerley Hall. She’d come prepared to be grilled about her technical expertise. Now she understood that this exhibitionist display was part of her evaluation.

Screwing her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to meet Amelia’s knowing gaze, she hauled her overskirt, underskirt and petticoats up to her waist. She spread her thighs, opening the slit in her drawers. A pungent tidal scent rose from her cleft. Currents of air danced across her bared sex, making her shiver with delight.

Trying to forget she was being watched, she pressed the heel of her left hand against her pubis to exert indirect pressure on her swollen clit. At the same time, she used the fingers to diddle the aching bud. Pleasure streaked through her, setting every nerve alight. Tension coiled deep in her pelvis, a hot, sweet ache that expanded each time her fingertips grazed the sensitised nub.

Delicious. Intense. Not enough, though, to push her over the edge. She needed more; she needed to be filled.

While continuing to work her left hand, she slipped three fingers of her right into her hungry hole. That was good, better than good, but still insufficient. She pumped in and out, remembering Ian’s fierce, thrilling thrusts down her throat. Ah, if she only had a real cock ploughing and stretching her! Ian would know just how to take her. Unlike her bloody cousin, Ian would have enough control to fuck her silly, drive her crazy, satisfy her completely before surrendering to his own release.

She added a fourth finger and thrust deeper. Her crisis crept closer. If the Guild accepted her, she felt confident she’d soon become well-acquainted with Ian’s cock. Archie’s too, perhaps. Why not? Members of the Guild were pioneers on the sexual frontier, outlaws challenging the prudish morality promulgated by the Crown. She could have more than one lover if she wished. Who was going to stop her?

Or perhaps—she gasped at the outrageous thought—perhaps she’d have them both at the same time! She recalled some images from her uncle’s library, women pinioned on two hard cocks, each in a different orifice. Archie in front, Ian in back, and perhaps the mysterious Master Toymaker in her welcoming mouth…

Her crisis surprised her, welling up from her depths and overwhelming her with a sudden flood of sensation. She rubbed her clit and rode her fingers as wave after wave of bliss swept through her.

As the echoes of her spending faded, she realised she was soaked. Her juices drenched her knickers and both hands. Eyes still closed, she sensed Amelia’s movement. She worried briefly about a scolding for spoiling the upholstery. Then a hot, wet sweep of pressure across her clit kindled an incendiary burst of pleasure and sent her spinning back into climax.

Eventually, the world stopped whirling around her. Gillian opened her eyes. A few feet away, Amelia leaned back in her own chair, licking her lips. Moisture gleamed on her cheeks and chin.

“Congratulations,” she said with a satisfied smirk. “You’re provisionally accepted.”

“Into the Guild? As an apprentice?”

Amelia nodded. “Let us clean you up, then I’ll take you up to the laboratory.”

Gillian felt as though a hot air balloon was expanding inside her. She didn’t quite believe her ears. “But don’t you want to evaluate my engineering expertise?”

“You discerned the passcode. And your parents were among the most creative inventors of our time. I never had any doubts about your abilities, Gillian. I just needed to see if you were sufficiently open-minded to join our little band of sexual renegades.”

Gillian cast an eye over her half-naked body. “I suppose I am,” she replied, with a soft chuckle.

“Indeed. I’m looking forward to exploring just how open.”

 

 

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/8424-the-pornographers-apprentice-the-toymakers-guild-book-1/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08MWMZZGP

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08MWMZZGP

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1053072

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-pornographers-apprentice-lisabet-sarai/1138144978?ean=2940164724573

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Apple Books - https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1539184541

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55857159-the-pornographer-s-apprentice

Audio

https://www.audible.com/pd/The-Pornographers-Apprentice-Audiobook/B09933BG3L

https://amzn.to/3wJZgCq

Marooned on Mahina Cay – #CozyMystery #Bartender #Giveaway @CarlyWayneJax

 

Blurb

Teddy Aarons is a nomad, using her bartending skills as an excuse to move to a new luxury resort with each change of the season. But when she finds herself stuck on the remote island of Mahina Cay, she finds refuge in the quirky little Township of Crooked Cove.

Crooked Cove is a village of expatriates from various countries, and the people are welcoming, but she only intends to stay long enough to make the money to get off the island and back to her real life.. However, when one of the village’s most distinguished citizens turns up dead, it’s up to her to either solve the case or become a permanent resident of the slammer!

With her new friend Jasmine at her side, Teddy will do whatever it takes to shake out the truth and stir up the real killer to clear her name. Will she manage to keep herself out of lockup, or will she end up under the influence of the Mahina Cay Prison?

Excerpt

“So, you were saying that the boat just left without you, huh?” Hawk spread more butter on his hot pancakes.

“Well, to be fair, they warned everyone when we debarked that if we went off on our own that the ship would not wait for us. I should have started back to the port long before I did. Maybe I would have at least been in Maradiaga before the ATV broke down.” Teddy shrugged and shoved a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

It was nine in the morning, and the restaurant was empty except for Teddy and Hawk, and the two of them sat at the bar having breakfast.

“Well, you’re welcome to use my office to call the cruise line and try to make arrangements. The phone in your room will make you enter a credit card number to call long distance, and that cell phone you’re carryin’ won’t get a signal around here.”

“Really? No cell phone signal?” She was shocked.

Hawk laughed. “No, you might find a sweet spot around the lake, but I wouldn’t bet my life on it. We don’t carry cell phones around here. Some folks got a satellite phone, but they are darn expensive.”

“Wow. We really are off the beaten path down here, huh?”

“You got that right,” Hawk agreed.

“So, do you ever sleep? You were working when I left last night and you’re already here this morning,” Teddy told Hawk as he refilled her coffee.

“I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead,” Hawk joked. “For now, there is too much living to do. Besides that, we are down one waitress because of maternity leave, and my bartender ran off two months ago with a traveling theater group from Canada.”

Teddy laughed. “My goodness, you do have staffing problems!”

“It ain’t all that bad, we manage…Where’re you from, Teddy? I think I can hear a little southern twang in your voice.”

“I grew up in Florida, but I haven’t lived there since I was eighteen, well, except for a few months at a time.”

He took a bite of his pancakes to mask a spark of triumph. “What do you do for work?” he asked absently.

“Actually, I’m a bartender,” she looked at him out of the side of her eyes.

About the Author

Carly Wayne first discovered her love of storytelling as a child when she would create alternate endings for all of her favorite fairy tales. As she grew, her fascination developed into a passion for writing about the characters and worlds she imagined.

Now, Carly has returned to her ancestral home deep in the woods of Jacksonville, Florida, not too far from the ocean. She fills her days pursuing her bliss by writing, creating, and exploring nature.

Carly holds Bachelor's and Master's degrees in Psychology.

Social Links

Website: https://carlywayne.online

FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/creator.of.worlds

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CarlyWayneJax

GoodReads: https://cutt.ly/carlywayne-goodreads

BookBub: https://cutt.ly/carlywayne-bookbub

Buy Links

https://books2read.com/cocktails-casualties

The author is awarding four unique prizes to randomly drawn winners (A leather bound diary and pen, a set of 4 drink coasters, a pewter necklace of a Quetzal bird, a copper compass)

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