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The Music Behind the Book – Cameron D James (@Cameron_D_James)

tourbutton_bumpandgrindBump and Grind, part one in the five-part Go-Go Boys of Club 21 series, features, well, go-go dancers in a club.  Whenever I write, and especially while writing this book, I listen to music and the music usually sets the mood for my words.  So, for Bump and Grind, I found I was listening to a lot of electronica, club music, and other songs that really get you moving.  It was actually kind of hard to keep typing and resist getting up and dancing.

But how do you translate music, an entirely auditory experience, to the written page?  And how do you translate the captivating sight of a nubile young man dancing and grinding to the beat into words?  That was my big challenge with Bump and Grind.

It took several re-writes and, in the end, several nudges and strongly-worded suggestions from my editor.  I think the final product has that captivating quality to it that I had wanted right from the start.  Through the stages of writing and editing, I could see I was close to what I was trying to achieve, but I just wasn’t quite there, so it was a huge relief when the pieces started falling into place.

My hope is that the experience of music and dancing in the club is as vivid and detailed as the hot sex and the deep character emotions.

To get you in the mood, and to give you an idea of the kinds of things I was listening to while putting Bump and Grind together, I thought I’d end this with some of my favourite electronica and club tracks.  🙂

Bloes Brothers #24 – Wanklemut (though ANYTHING on the Bloes Brothers Soundcloud page is great)

Just Be by DJ Tiesto

This Light Between Us by Armin van Buuren, featuring Christian Burns

Beautiful Life by Armin van Buuren, featuring Cindy Alma (and the entire album this comes from, Intense, is a piece of musical art)

Let Me Go by Young London

 

Bump and GrindExcerpt – Bump and Grind

We’re the go-go boys of Club 21. We dance, we fuel fantasies, and we give ourselves to the beat. We bump, we grind, and before each shift we have a jerk off competition; the order in which we cum determines who gets the most desirable dance platform.

Normally, I shoot first, earning me the prime spot by the DJ. Ken usually comes shortly after me; he claims I get him excited. Lance, our new guy, he’s always last and ends up with the crappy spot by the pool tables.

Today, I decided to try something different—a strategy, if you will—to teach Lance an important lesson about being a go-go boy. I yanked down the front of my shorts and let my cock hang out, then grabbed it in my fist, stroking up and down the shaft. In front of me, Liam and Ken stood with their shorts tucked under their balls as they pumped with vigor.

I held back, loosening my grip just a bit, but still keeping it tight enough to stay hard and throbbing. I grunted and faked an impending climax, hoping it would give the other guys incentive to rush to completion.

The faking worked. Ken groaned and numerous rockets of hot, white cum launched from his cock. His load splattered on the tiled floor, like some abstract painter’s creation, a wad of it dropping on my toes.

“Sorry, Liam,” Ken said as he came down from that high of orgasm. I doubted Ken was actually sorry—he was definitely the bad boy of our trio. He drank, partied, and had a high-octane sex drive.

I looked at the cum on my feet and then winked at him. “Ken, you sick fucker. You can lick it off.”

He stuck his tongue out at me, then crossed his arms and watched Lance and I battle to the finish. I kept stroking, making my effort look convincing. Lance fixed me with his usual cocky stare. Lust glazed his eyes too, no doubt fuelled by the actions of his fist.

“Uhhh…” Lance groaned as his cock fired off a dozen good bullets of cum, showering across the diamond-tile floor. Fuck, he could shoot a mean load.

Lance had joined us three weeks ago and I didn’t know too much about him. He was a quiet jock, a much better fit than Aaron, the airhead twink who he’d replaced. Having a jock in our small group was good for bringing in more customers. Ken and I were well-toned and we all had boyish charm—it was part of the job, after all—but Lance’s body was hard and toned, and packed with an impressive array of muscle. And boy, could he dance.

I didn’t realize I’d stopped stroking until Ken said, “You planning on coming?”

I shrugged, letting go of my cock. “I don’t think it’s happening tonight…probably shouldn’t have tugged it this afternoon.”

Ken snorted. “Whatever.” He swiped a bead of cum from his dick and licked it off, then tugged up his shorts and headed to the staff bathroom to grab paper towels.

Lance and I pulled up our shorts too. I smiled at him, trying to give my best look of sheepish defeat.

“That was on purpose, wasn’t it?” He asked.

I leaned in close to him. “Yeah. Now, why do you think I did it?”

“Hmm…are you trying to teach me another one of your go-go boy secrets?”

I grabbed my thick bulge and gave it a shake for him. “See this?”

Lance looked down at my basket and bit his lip, then reached in his shorts and adjusted himself. “Mmm. I get it. Don’t come so you’ve got a bigger bulge.”

“The bigger the bulge, the bigger the tips, no matter where you dance. I’ll prove it to you. I plan to make a killing tonight. Tomorrow, you can try and do the same. I bet you’ll make more than your usual thirty-seven bucks.”

Ken came back with the paper towels and started wiping up the cum. He paused and looked up at us. I think he knew we had cut off a conversation upon his return. “Boys?”

I looked at Lance—he would keep a straight face if I lied. “We’re talking about bulges,” I said.

A wicked grin crossed Ken’s lips as he wiped more cum up from the floor, then from my foot. “Bulges are one of my favorite things to talk about.” He tossed the paper towels in the wastebasket. “Are we talking about a particular bulge?”

Lance looked as if he’d been caught red-handed with porn. “Liam’s.”

“Oh…in that case, that’s definitely a bulge I like.” Ken grabbed the front of my tight shorts, groping my cock and balls.

I swatted his hand away. “No touching unless you’re tipping. You know the rules.”

Ken laughed and swiftly turned around. He slapped my ass as he passed me. “I like your butt better than your bulge, anyway.”

 

Blurb – Bump and Grind

Liam loves the life of being a go-go boy—dancing, partying, constant adoration from hot clients. The only thing he has to worry about is if he’s using the right moves as he grinds to the beat to win the affection of the highest tippers.

But tonight, there’s a new patron at Club 21—Ryan, a dream hunk and former porn celebrity—and he’s got eyes for Liam, and Liam alone. A private dance is a no-touch affair, but when Ryan rents Liam for half an hour all for himself, the experience forever changes how Liam sees his life in the club.

Buy Links:

All Romance eBooks | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Google Play | iBooks | Smashwords

 

About Cameron D. James

Cameron D. James is a life-long lover of books, voraciously reading everything from the classics to sci-fi, romance to science and nature, and thrillers to erotica. Understandably, a love of books led to a love of writing, having penned his first story in grade seven (about stolen baseball cards). Having written millions of words by now, Cameron now focusses on one of his favourite genres — gay erotica.

Cameron is a fan of Star Trek, having seen every episode of every series (including the animated series) and every movie at least twice. In addition to Star Trek, Cameron also loves physical exercise and seeing how far he can push his body. He’s taken kickboxing, Bikram hot yoga (that’s the super hot and tough one), diving, personal training at the gym, and likes his regular Wii workouts (seriously, they’re a lot more intense than they look).

Other interests include listening to electronica music (particularly Armin Van Buuren), puttering around the house (and attempting to grow a garden), and gawking at cute twink baristas at the various coffee shops where’s he’s such a regular that he’s known by first name.

Connect with Cameron D. James:

Website | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads | Tumblr | Pinterest

 

*****

 

GIVEAWAY!

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City Nights: One Night in Paris by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) Just $0.99/77p on Amazon During November!

For the month of November, this erotic romance novella will be on SALE. Warm up those winter nights with this smokin’ hot read!

Grab your copy here: http://mybook.to/cnparis

One Night in ParisHere’s what it’s all about:

Jacob is nearly forty, and has recently come to the sudden realisation that he’s not doing much with his life. Sure, he’s got his own successful business, but what’s the point in earning lots of money and not doing anything or going anywhere to spend it?

He’s in serious danger of being all work and no play, so he starts to rectify this by organising a twenty four hour layover in Paris en route to a meeting in Dubai. Whilst there, he goes on a bus tour of the city, and there meets Annabelle, a fellow Brit who’s studying in Paris. There’s clearly an attraction between the two of them, so when the gorgeous Annabelle makes an indecent proposal to help Jacob fill his time in Paris, who is he to refuse?

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

 

Sapphic Smut: Tales of Lesbian Lust Out Now! #sapphicsmut #erotica #anthology

Sapphic SmutBlurb:

Light hearted, sexy Sapphic smut is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Lucy Felthouse with assistance from Kev ‘Mitnik’ Blisse.

From coffee shops to exotic Indian adventures to cosy cabins in France, Sapphic Smut has it all. Fun with sugar, naughty spankings, seductions by strangers, seductions by friends, cougars and even a twist on a fairy tale abound in this exciting collection of lesbian stories from erotica’s finest authors.

This delicious girl-on-girl anthology contains stories from Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Louisa Bacio, Sallyanne Rogers, Vanessa de Sade, Tabitha Rayne and Elizabeth Coldwell.

Amazon: http://mybook.to/sapphicsmut

Other links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sapphic-smut/

Editor’s Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/lucyfelthousewriter

 

Excerpt:

Alana really couldn’t believe how flat Holland was. She’d been told by many people, but somehow, she still wasn’t expecting a place that made Cambridgeshire look like the Peak District. Her view from the train as she travelled from Schiphol airport to Amsterdam’s Centraal Station was unimpeded. Not so much as a hillock was visible.

And now, here she was, standing outside the station with crowds milling around her. A mixture of tourists, businesspeople and natives. She herself was a combination of two of those groups—she was here on business, but she’d deliberately extended her trip so she could spend a couple of days exploring the city. She had a day either side of her meeting, the boring part a filling to a sightseeing sandwich. Though, despite the boring tag, the meeting definitely wasn’t a bad thing, it was an appointment to cross the ts and dot the is on a very lucrative deal—certainly the trip was worthwhile.

After watching the insanity for another minute or so, she began to head away from the station, wheeling her small case along with her. Already armed with a guidebook and a decent map, she knew where she was going. Her map-reading skills were excellent, and she made the short walk to her hotel in less than twenty minutes. Anywhere else, she’d have gotten a cab, but it appeared they were a rare commodity in this city.

She’d checked in, dumped her bags and freshened up within another ten minutes, and was back on the street.

An online acquaintance had sent her a bunch of information for her trip—about the best museums, interesting things to see that might not be in guidebooks, and details on transport. It appeared that Amsterdam was unlike London, Paris and Rome, in as much as it had trams as its preferred mode of transport, rather than underground trains. Only one Metro line ran through the city, north-to-south. Everywhere else was utterly dependent on trams, bikes and being on foot.

And fuck, there were a lot of bikes. They zipped here, there and everywhere, not always staying where they were supposed to be, it seemed. The slim Dutch people atop the bikes were oblivious, just concentrating on getting where they were going.

Alana searched for the nearest tram stop, and quickly discovered she needed to be on the other side of the road to head in the right direction.

Crossing the road was a chore in itself. A dice with death. She’d thought Rome’s motorists were insane, but at least they were fairly predictable. Here, she was faced with crossing a road that held a cycle path, a tram line and a lane for cars. Shifting down the pavement, she stood at the conveniently placed crossing. It still didn’t make things much easier, but at least she could mingle in with the crowd. Traffic was much more likely to stop if it was going to hit a crowd of people than a single pedestrian. Right?

By some miracle, she reached the opposite pavement unscathed—except for her nerves, which were shot—and approached the tram stop. As if by magic, a tram arrived, and it was the correct number. Things were looking up.

After a few minutes, she realised that public transport in Amsterdam was nowhere near as easy to navigate as in the other major cities she was familiar with. There, their Tube or Metro stations always had plenty of large, unmissable signs telling you where you were. Piccadilly Circus, Anvers, Piramide. Here, it seemed you were left to your own devices. There were announcements on board the tram, but they were in Dutch—a language which she knew very little of—incredibly muffled, and pretty much drowned out by the sound of the tram’s motion and its passengers.

 

 

Napping…It’s Not Just for Nanas by Bibi Paterson (@BibiPaterson)

tourbutton_tiedtoyouWhere do you get your best ideas? In the bath? By going on a walk? Well for me they tend to come just when I am about the fall asleep so whenever I get stuck with my writing I tend to take a nap. I might not necessarily sleep, but for the hour that I lay there I let my brain roam free. Sometimes it is just a swirly mess of thoughts and images but other times it will settle on a dialogue, or a plot point.

As there is no typing involved you can imagine things in real-time and see where the plot goes. Sometimes it will flow in one direction and will get to a situation I don’t think is right and then I will back up a bit to see if I can explore a different direction. Other times the idea will just flow and I will be itching to get up and write down everything that has just gone through my head. The best part of my method for me is that because I have never typed my random thoughts down I don’t have that guilt over deleting chapters when they don’t work.

And I even get my own personal bedtime story which is fun when you are working through kinky scenes like the ones I wrote for my new novel Tied to You.

Teaser-1Excerpt:

“We’re leaving,” Alex states in a tone that brooks no argument. I merely nod in reply and let him lead me to the cloakroom to fetch my wrap, and then we are sitting in the car, being driven home. The tension between us is thick, yet neither of us has said a word. I glance up at Alex under my eyelashes and see his jaw clenched and an expression that I can’t fathom in his eyes. Every fibre of my being is hyper-aware of Alex’s masculinity, and a dull throb sits between my legs. I squirm in my seat, trying to find a little relief, when suddenly I am aware of Alex’s scrutiny. His eyes bore through me, yet the expression on his face remains a neutral mask. A smirk appears as he runs his eyes over my body and I find my nipples hardening under my dress.

We have no sooner pulled up in front of the house than Alex is pulling me from the car and into the house. The door slams shut behind us and for a moment we both just look at each other, lost in the inevitable. And then Alex speaks. “Turn around, Olivia.” The command is issued in a low, gravelly voice, completely at odds with Alex’s regular teasing tone. The use of my full name startles me, and before I can think further, my body is already obeying. I stand still, my eyes staring up the stairs, as we stand in the frigid hallway, and I wait with bated breath. A few moments pass and all I can hear is our breathing.

Suddenly I am aware of Alex’s arms coming over my shoulders and unhooking the cape at my throat. It slithers to the floor, and for a heartbeat, the world stops spinning on its axis. I shiver as I feel Alex’s warm breath on my neck as, ever so slowly, he pulls down the zip of my gown. “Put your arms out and hold on to the end of the bannister,” he instructs gruffly. I comply without rational thought, quietly awaiting his next command. The single movement has my dress pooling at my feet as I lean forward to grip the smooth wooden post. Large, agile hands skim down my sides until they rest on my hips and I am very much aware that my arse is now in the air, the angle of my body on my heels offering direct access to my damp, aching pussy. The hands follow a leisurely pace down the backs of my thighs and calves, until they reach my ankles. “Lift your foot and then the other,” Alex orders. I comply and he pulls the dress out from around my feet, discarding it in a heap by the front door.

Teaser-2I glance back down at Alex, but immediately he notices. “Eyes forward,” he barks, and I whip my head back around, my heart thumping in my ears. The cold of the hallway has raised goose bumps over my skin and I am shivering ever so slightly. I feel Alex stand behind me, heat radiating from his frame making the cold more tolerable, and then I hear him shedding his own clothes. My body is feeling ultra-sensitive, and the moment his hand snakes around my waist and deft fingers find my clit, I let out a low groan, as the warmth starts to spread across my pelvis. His pelvis pushes into my arse and I can feel the huge length of him grinding between my butt cheeks. Suddenly, Alex’s other hand is grabbing my breast, pulling it from the confines of my strapless bra and, almost painfully, squeezing my nipple. Teeth nip at my ear and neck as he forces my head back, my back arching as I try to maintain my balance.

“I don’t make love,” Alex hisses into my ear. “I fuck, I root, I shag…but I don’t do soft and I don’t do sweet. Do you understand, Olivia?” I nod my head, a thousand conflicting thoughts swirling around my head. “If you want this to stop, you need to say so now…” he trails off and waits for my answer. My brain is telling me that this is all a bit weird, that this is not what I want, but my treacherous body has other ideas and so I keep silent.

Pinterest board                                http://www.pinterest.com/authorbibipater/tied-to-you-by-bibi-paterson/

Tied To YouTied to You (Book blurb)

Olivia Walker has just hit rock bottom. About to lose her job and become homeless, she can’t see a way out of the mess her life has become until Alex Davenport enters her life with a proposal she is in no position to refuse.

Wealthy and arrogant, Alex is used to getting whatever he wants and he has set his eyes on Olivia. For months he has watched her, waiting for the perfect opportunity to present itself to make her his, and finally it has appeared. But Alex is hiding a secret, one that he is determined to protect until, one day, Olivia makes a discovery that sets her on a course of self-discovery. Together they explore Olivia’s submissive side, pushing boundaries and taking her on the wildest ride of her life.

But when Olivia’s past threatens to expose Alex’s secret lifestyle, the time for truths and full disclosure is at hand. Can Alex let go of the fears that have bound his true nature? And can a couple that fell in lust find their own happily ever after?

Warning: This book is intended for mature audiences as it contains explicit sex scenes and BDSM themes.

Buy links:

Amazon (US)     http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NN50KZE

Amazon (UK)     http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00NN50KZE

iBooks                  https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/id925073550

Kobo                     http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/tied-to-you

Nook                     http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tied-to-you-bibi-paterson/1120440715

 

Bibi-PatersonAuthor Bio:

Bibi is a former marketing executive and mum to a gorgeous little girl currently residing just north of London. She recently spent a year living it up on the beaches of Western Australia and her hobbies include consuming copious amounts of coffee and chocolate, building cardboard castles and creating stories in her head.

Inspired from a young age, her love for literature started with Enid Blyton and her Secret Seven. Since then a voracious appetite for books has brought her a world full of heroes, love, murder, betrayal and the odd vampire thrown in for good cause.

Having long admired those brave enough to put pen to paper, or in this modern age of computing, keyboard to screen, she has finally started telling the sexy stories that she has been keeping locked up in her head all this time.

http://www.bibipaterson.com

https://www.facebook.com/bibipaterson

https://twitter.com/BibiPaterson

http://www.pinterest.com/authorbibipater/

http://instagram.com/bibipaterson

GIVEAWAY!

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Memories & Kisses by Muffy Wilson (@SexyMuffyWilson)

Memories & Kisses by Muffy WilsonThank you so much for having me for a visit. I think I have fallen in love with the girl on the cover of my latest book Memories & Kisses. She is beautiful, of course, but what really attracts me is her mystery. I’m sure it is no accident that she uses bright red lipstick. Take a casual glance at her picture, and you are caught by that luscious, loveable mouth. Who does she kiss? Just one lover? Or several? Does she kiss men or perhaps women? Would she kiss me on the right evening?

What do you think? Is she thinking about memories of love lost? Perhaps the memories made trying to forget a lost love? Even old memories revisited by old friends, united in a kiss that rekindles flames, passions and desire, too. Old memories are like old red wine – all the richer for time passed. And the kisses taste sweeter too. Three romantic and very sexy stories take us back to things as they once were, and forward to the wonderful times to come.

Memories & Kisses has three stories of old loves remembered; a grieving woman rescued from the sea, two childhood friends growing old friendship into passionate loving, and two long separated teenagers finding that time has mellowed them both and maturity has brought a passionate intensity they had never imagined. All three stories are of rekindled love that survived decades of longing and is now ready to burst into flame.

Blurb:

The Storm ~ a newly widowed woman unable to face the world alone and lonely, buries her husband. Overcome by grief, she walks into the rough, grinding pitiless surf in an effort to blend the gray in her heart with the gray on the horizon. She is saved from the crashing waves by a man, a bearded white haired man who brings her back to life and gives her a reason to live again.

The Park ~ two childhood friends, now adults, reunite on the eve of the dedication of their once favorite playground now slated to become a high-tech water park. The destruction of their favorite playground makes them melancholy; reliving their dreams as children in this park inspires them to greater, more passionate long buried desires they never responded to as teens, but knew existed but in their memories.

The Story of Us ~ high school friends, once nearly sweethearts, reconnect in their sixties. The Internet removes the veil of uncomfortable shyness. They are open and revealing in emails about their youthful teenaged desires for one another. They discover what we all hope is true: that love is eternal. Surviving decades, not only in the shadowed recesses of our memories, but in a kiss, a touch, a magnetic embrace love thrives.

Do you have memories of a love that once was?…of a love that was lost?…of, perhaps, a rekindled love that survived decades of longing?

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Ganxy | XinXii | Kobo | iTunes

 

Excerpt from The Storm:

I walk to the surf, heaving for breath, weak from running against the rain, fighting the storm, the sadness, my loss – your death. I walk into the surf and keep walking. It is surprisingly warm and enveloping. I suddenly feel comforted, my heartbreak no longer a penetrating pain. I know you are with me and I seek out your embrace. I cry again, scream at the thunderous surf, and then I am gone. I can’t breathe and I am falling, rolling, tumbling in a hazy grey darkness that is wet, ferocious, demanding. Suddenly my dizzy comfort turns to fear and I struggle against the pounding, relentless waves. What have I done? I am a good swimmer and an athlete, but can I beat this? Instinct overcomes me. My heart pounds. I start to kick wildly. Moving my arms toward the surface, the current catches me again, tumbling me over and over. My lungs burn. I lose my bearing—which way is up, down? I start to get a sickening feeling of death, my own impending death, and, just as I start to give in, I feel the hand of God grab my hair and hood in a fierce grip and yank me to the surface. I feel the sky darken and the surf diminish. Everything tastes salty, gritty, and then my body heaves, relaxed, and my world goes black.

I awake to pounding on my chest; I am being rattled and something is covering my mouth and nose. I cough, retch, and then vomit the last vestiges of the ocean from my body. My mouth is filled with grit, sand, and the salty taste of taffy. I open my eyes and see God reaching down toward me. He leans over me and the salty ocean water drips from his face to mine. He is big, strong, and gasping; he is surrounded in a glowing aura which intensifies his white hair and white beard. I am frightened. I must be dead. But that cannot be! How foolish I am. He sits me up, tenderly and gently helps me to my feet, all the while holding me securely with large strong hands and then he speaks to me.

“Are you alright, miss? You scared me near to death when I saw you walk into the surf. Why in the world….Where do you live?”

I am alive to my senses.

“Wha. . . ?” My knees weaken and I fall further into his arms. Quickly, he catches my descent and carries me to a bench where he sits me down, moving the errant curls of hair from my cheeks, and speaks to me again.

“Where are you staying? Shall I call the police?”

I can feel my heart pounding against his chest.

“No, please, I’m . . . I’ll be fine. My key, my pocket; it’s in my pocket. Please…”

I can’t remember my hotel or where I am or why. As he unzips my pocket and removes my hotel key, he pulls my hood up over my head to shelter my face from the pelting rain. Collecting me under his arm, my body firmly in his grip, we walk slowly back to the hotel. The traffic is still sparse, no taxis to be seen. It seems to take forever. The storm is so much worse, the surf so high, sucking the wind into the watery folds as it retreats to the ocean. At once, I am so scared that I begin to tremble and yet, I feel protected.

As we walk into the hotel lobby, the bell captain approaches us and asks if I need the hotel doctor, whereupon my guardian says, “No, that won’t be necessary, thank you.” We take the elevator to my floor and I am finally in the sanctity of my room, as lonely as it is. My savior, my hero sits me in the desk chair while he goes to the bathroom and starts the shower. He returns. He is saying something to me that I can’t understand, but he starts to take my shoes off. Then he leans me forward, removes my windbreaker and sports bra, and helps me stand while he pulls relentlessly at my wet spandex knee-highs. He kicks off his own running shoes and removes his blazer. He carries me to the shower but I feel as if I’m watching the scene unfold from outside my own body. I am unafraid of this stranger.

The water is hot and piercing, but he is gentle, loving, and tender. He bathes me and washes my hair, lifting the removable nozzle to rinse the sand, grit, and seaweed from my hair and lithe body. My skin is a deep pink from the intense extreme of the cold grasp of the ocean and the heated comfort of the hot shower. His hands are everywhere, on every curve, gently caressing my skin with his soapy fingertips. He deftly, tenderly, washes my breasts, my taunt stomach and pussy. He controls himself, but I can’t let him stop. I look up at him, and notice he is watching himself bathe me. He seems to caress my buttocks as he cleans the sand from between my rounded cheeks. Unembarrassed, he rinses my body thoroughly, running his fingers though my shoulder-length brown hair. I feel safe, warmed, yet surprisingly aroused, weakened by my ordeal.

For the first time, it seems, he looks down at me. He takes me in as I look up at him, transfixed by his control. I am naked in my sorrow and my pain; he, fully clothed except for his windbreaker and shoes, smiles, touching my heart. I did not notice his erection in the shower, he is a complete gentleman. My breasts, the curve of my belly to my thigh, my face against his chest glisten in the shower, as I trust him to help me.

Memories & Kisses- read more…

Author Bio and Links:

Muffy, author of erotic, romantic stories about love, sex, hope and passion, was born in San Antonio, Texas, to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family “princess,” indulged and pampered. She adored her older brothers, following them everywhere and was surrounded by love, stimulation, and pets. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. The family lived in most points between Alaska and France. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and came of age in France.

Returning from France with her family, Muffy finished high school in Northern California and attended the University of California, Davis, and majored in Business Management. Muffy entered the work force, independent with a fierce work ethic, and retired at 39 from IBM as a Mid-West Regional Director in the Real Estate and Construction Division. She and her husband moved to a small Island in northern Wisconsin where they owned a historic tavern, restaurant and resort business which they since have sold. They now live a charmed life by the water in SW Florida. Muffy pretends to be a serious real estate business person but, in real life, indulges her private interest in writing sexy short stories and sensual literotica ~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion.

Website | Blog | Twitter | Email |  Facebook | FB Fan PageGoogle+ | Amazon | Ganxy | XinXii | Kobo Books | iTunes Books |Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing

Previously Published at:

Oysters & Chocolate, Decadent Publishing, Ravenous Romance, Yellow Silk Dreams

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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