Tag Archives: Sunday Snog

100 Snogs and Counting!

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Sunday snog 1000

I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like it’s a proper sex scene, or even a proper PG love scene, unless there’s some serious lip action. I’m no expert on why I love kissing so much or why a good snog will set me all a twitter, and I don’t mean social media twitter. But here are a few fun factoids about the lip lock from Psychology Today  and How Stuff Works No doubt these all have at least a little something to do with all the fun:

  • A nice romantic kiss burns 2-3 calories, while a hot sizzler can burn up to five or more
  • The mucus membranes inside the mouth are permeable to hormones such as testosterone. Through open-mouth kissing, men introduced testosterone into a woman’s mouth. Testosterone is absorbed through the mucus membranes which increases arousal and the likelihood of rumpy pumpy.
  • Men like it wet and sloppy while women like it long and lingering.
  • While we Western folk do lip service, some cultures do nose service, smelling for that romantic, sexual connection. Very mammalian, if you ask me, and who doesn’t love a good dose of pheromonal yumminess?
  • Then there’s good old fashion bonding. Kissing someone you like increases closeness.

 

The Blisse Household is not the only household that believes in love. Everyone needs someone to Rodin 250px-The_Kisslean on in times of need, they need someone to kiss it better. So when the lovely Blisses noticed that the big anniversary was coming up for the Sunday Snog Victoria thought hard about ways they could share the love. Sooo they’re going to have the biggest and best Sunday Snog ever. And Grace Marshall and I, along with all the other lovely snoggers out there snogging along with the Blisses, get to share a kiss with all of our fabulous readers. And we’re sharing the love by making a donation to Médecins Sans Frontières to pass on the love to those who need it most. If you want to share the love too, just follow the link to the Just Giving Page to help make a difference.

Pucker up everyone and enjoy a fab flurry of hot snogs!

AND a comment to this snogalicious posts will give you a chance to win a sexy read of your choice from my novellas, Surrogates, Kinky Boots or Migrations!

And now for proper lip service from my paranormal erotic novel, and book three of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Elemental Fire. Enjoy!

 

Blurb: Elemental Fire

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone

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A Kiss or Two from Elemental Fire:

From far away someone shook her arm, someone called to her in distressed tones, trying to bring her back to the Waking World. But she didn’t want to go back. It was safe and warm and happy here. There was nothing but sadness in the Waking World. She just wanted to sleep here in the cave and wait for whoever the beautiful woman would bring to her.

But the shaking and jostling continued. She slapped the hand away but it kept coming back to shake her. She was just ready to tell whoever it was to bugger off, when she opened her eyes and looked up to see the outline of a man leaning over her. Even in the darkness, the energy emanating from him was magnetic. Everything inside her tightened with anticipation, and Goddess, she wanted him. Surely she was still dreaming.

‘Are you alright?’ His voice vibrated through her chest and his touch felt electric, full of magic. ‘I thought you were dead, then I heard you moaning. I guess you were dreaming. I was worried and then …’

They both realized at the same time that her shirt was open and so were her trousers, and one hand still rested on her mons. She could feel the man’s gaze taking in the situation, and he twigged. ‘Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought you were — ’

Elemental Fire cover image final‘I was! Dreaming, I mean.’ She quickly jerked her hand out of her trousers and tugged her open blouse across her bare breasts. ‘I was dreaming, and she said she’d send someone and …’ She blinked hard and looked around at the night sky. She couldn’t have been asleep long, but everything felt unreal, different. Was she still dreaming? Dreams could be so powerful at times, so confusing. She reached up to touch his face and felt a surge of magic — some new, some old. Some very old. Had she enfleshed a ghost because of her horny dream? When she walked at night, ghosts did sometimes follow her onto the fells in hopes that she would enflesh them and allow them to experience for a little while the pleasures afforded the living. And any other time she would happily oblige. But when she walked at night, she always sent them away. This was her place, her alone time. No one was welcome to disturb her here, and most ghosts knew that. Had she been that out of it? Was she that desperate for a fuck that her unconscious had broken her own rules?’

The man sat back on his haunches and looked down at her. In the darkness she could only make out his silhouette dominated by broad shoulders, but it was enough to make her own arousal spike. Certainly if she had enfleshed him, she couldn’t leave him in the state he was now, no doubt, in because of her.

He gave a little gasp of surprise when she off-balanced him, pulled him down to her and kissed him. ‘You shouldn’t have come here,’ she managed before she drew him into another kiss.

‘I might say the same about you,’ he replied.

Cheeky ghost, she thought, but she kissed him again. This time he returned the favour. And the power surge she felt went clear from her mouth down to the base of her spine and back again. His eyes fluttered, he gasped against her mouth, clearly feeling what she felt, and there was no disguising the press of his heavy erection against the fly of his walking trousers.

‘What the hell was that?’ She gasped, not entirely sure she wasn’t going to come just from their last kiss.

He pulled back from her with a start, one hand against his lips and the other resting low on his belly. ‘If you do that again, I can’t guarantee what will… If you do that again.’

For a tightly stretched second, they froze in each other’s gaze. Then she forced words up through her throat, struggling to breathe through her arousal. ‘I can’t … I need …’

‘Me too,’ He whispered. She couldn’t see the colour of his eyes in the darkness, but his gaze was baking hot against her.

Focus. Damn it, she needed to be able to focus, to think. She forced a deep breath and then they were both speaking at the same time.

‘I’m sorry … I didn’t … I wouldn’t …’

‘I don’t know what just happened,’ he gasped.

‘Me neither,’ she managed.

Then they were on each other. He yanked the clasp from her hair and clawed it free from the ponytail. She curled her fingers in the front of his shirt and pulled him on top of her, down between her open legs, lifting her hips, wrapping her ankles around his waist and thrusting up to meet him. The sounds coming from his throat were deep-chested, wild, and she wasn’t sure where his grunts and growls left off and hers began as he thrust and ground against her, shoving her arse into the soft moss with his efforts.

‘I need to get to you,’ he gasped pulling away from her, tugging and fumbling at her trousers until they were down over her hips.

She toed one of her boots off and kicked it aside, and he lifted her leg free of her trousers while she shoved open his fly and slid her hand into his boxers until she could wrap her fingers around his heavy cock.

He gasped and pushed her hand away. ‘Don’t do that. I’ll come in your hand and I don’t want to come there. He trapped both her wrists above her head with a large hand while he nuzzled his way into her shirt and battled with his trousers until his butt was bare.

Then he released her hands and kissed his way down her belly, shoving her legs further apart as he went, lowering his face, biting the inside of her left thigh just below the swell of her pussy. She yelped and drenched herself. He fingered her open and ran his tongue up from her perineum all the way to her clit and bit again. And she came, bellowing her orgasm into the cool night air. ‘I want you in me, I want you in me,’ she gasped, even before she could breathe again, even before the waves inside her had dissipated.

He positioned himself and pushed into her deep and hard and they both growled like angry wolves. She grabbed his arse cheeks in an effort to pull him still deeper into her. He dug into the moss with his feet, shoved up onto his knees and lifted her until her shoulders rested in the moss and her hips were in the air, knees pressing upward against her breasts. Then he rolled with her and pulled her on top of him. With one trembling hand he shoved her blouse off her shoulders and her breasts bounced freely into his cupping fingers. With the other hand he expertly found her clit, and resting the flat of his palm on her mound, he stroked and rubbed with the pad of his thumb.

One wave of orgasm collapsed in on the next, like the waves breaking against the cliffs at St Bee’s Head. Then both of his hands settled to her hips and he thrust up nearly bucking her off in his efforts to penetrate still deeper. His grip on her hips was bruising, and she slammed into him harder and harder with each thrust, emotions swirling around, emotions that she didn’t want to feel, emotions that she did want to feel, emotions that she had wanted to feel from the time she was a little girl. And somewhere in the midst of their thrusting and pushing, she realized that not all of the emotions were hers. But she couldn’t think, she couldn’t concentrate on anything but the in and out, push and shove, like a mantra, like a spell being woven in rhythm, in repetition, in sync.

And then they both came, screaming and raging and rolling in the moss until he was once again on top of her, his weight feeling like the weight of the world, and yet at the same time feeling like a blanket protecting her from the depths of her own pain. How could this be? How could she ever experience anything like this with some strange horny ghost on the fells?

She found herself with a million questions, and yet by the time she caught her breath, she was fast asleep. To her total surprise, he had crossed the dream threshold and they were chasing the dream together.

 

Smooch Your Way to Blisse Kiss Valentine Yumminess

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With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, who else would be at the vanguard of the sexy, romantic, huggy, kissy, chocolates-and-roses celebration of love and lust but the fabulous team over at Blisse Kiss! Those lovers of love and connoisseurs of the kiss, Victoria and Mitnik have another fun celebration of the sexy snog. All you have to do for your chance to win Valentine yumminess is visit all the sites listed at blissekiss.co.uk and work out the password from the clues given on all the smooch bears. And the prize! A fabulous print book bundle. And yet another prize! eBooks and to spare! To win the eBooks you simply need to add up all the numbers on the smooch bears in each post and then follow the instructions on blissekiss.co.uk for what to do next.

Now here’s a hot snog from Kinky Boots to send you on you smoochy way.

Kinky Boots Blurb:

After a sizzling encounter in KINKY BOOTS, a quirky all-night shoe store, with the store’s hot owner, FINN MASTERS, JILL HART walks away in the most gorgeous boots ever. Her new boots come with an unexpected bonus, a sexy demon named ELEANOR, who’s looking for a good time. All she lacks is a body, and Jill’s will do nicely.

Jill quits her dead-end job and, not knowing what’s come over her stops by the nearest pub intent on doing tequila shots until she falls off the stool. Instead she does FINN MASTERS in the beer garden, unwittingly participating in her first ever threesome. The boots were the bait, the timing was right and Eleanor has new digs. It’s Finn job to prevent Eleanor’s misbehaving. His failure means he’ll have to ride shotgun and do damage control until Eleanor moves out at the next full moon.

With Eleanor in residence, Jill’s bolder, sexier, willing to take risks. But is she a whole new Jill, or is it just demon courage? And how will Finn feel about her when she’s just plain Jill again? Will the maddeningly magical ménage make Jill’s dreams come true, or will it break her heart?

Kinky_BootsExpcerpt:

Everything in her went warm and liquid. Her breath caught at the feel of the leather as he guided the boot up over her heel. ‘I’ve never felt anything so soft,’ she said. ‘And they’re so pretty.’

‘Shoes should be a sensual experience,’ he said moving his large hands up to cup her calf while he settled the boot into place. Then his agile fingers began to work the laces, plucking at them, caressing them, stroking them almost as though he were making music on them, like they were some exotic stringed instrument of leather and lace. And though she couldn’t quite hear the melody, she felt the reverberation of his plucking and threading beneath the hem of the short skirt and all the way up into her warming panties.

‘Nice, huh?’

It took her a second to realise he was responding to her response. God, was she actually moaning? And please, surely she wasn’t grinding her bottom against the chintz. The blush flashed hot across her chest, but then instead of heading for her face, it headed south, settling against her clit with a heated, unexpected nip. And her moan became a yelp, just a tiny one, but a yelp nonetheless. She would have apologized, she would have died of embarrassment and fallen completely through the chair, but he was already working on the other boot, strategically sitting between her legs, breath slightly accelerated, and … Surely she was mistaken. But as he shifted to cup her calf and smooth the second boot against her leg, there was no disguising the erection growing inside the front of his jeans.

Everything below her waist clenched in appreciation, and she felt the heavy tingle of excitement up high between her thighs. The urge to rip aside the scrap of denim that was her skirt and the bit of satin that was her knickers, the urge to focus his attention somewhere far removed from her feet nearly took her breath away. ‘You like your work,’ she managed, not actually looking at his crotch, but not actually looking away from it either.

‘Very much,’ he said, working the laces through his nimble fingers, making no attempt to hide his boner.

Was it her imagination or could she actually smell him now? It was not deodorant, not soap, that she smelled but maleness. It was like baked bread and desert heat with some moist thick base note that she felt at the back of her throat rather than smelled. It made her hold her mouth slightly open to take in the fullness of his scent, like a cat taking in the scent of a rival or a possible mate.

Was it her imagination, or could she actually feel his breath against the place where her thighs rested on the chair, teasing just at the edge of her skirt. The growing warmth she now felt in her knickers was definitely not her imagination.

For a moment she closed her eyes, shutting out the precision movements of his fingers and the view of his body hunched almost protectively between her legs. Then she allowed herself to take in the picture of him that her other senses were painting so exquisitely. She heard the catch and slide of his breath, felt the velvet flutter of it raising goose flesh on the soft skin of her inner thighs. She inhaled the complex olfactory portrait of him, the scent emanating from his arm pits, his pulse points and the place where his cock strained in its tight confinement. She could feel his skin on hers as his fingers brushed her calf. It all created a picture of him almost as vivid as the one she had seen.

She opened her eyes just in time to watch him carefully, precisely, rhythmically tie the bow in the lace of the second boot. And as he tugged the looped ends snug against the knot, she felt a ripple up both legs that accelerated and intensified as it raced up between her thighs. It continued along her spine flashing red hot behind her eyes, leaving a plum coloured after-image of the clerk’s engrossed face.

She yelped and jerked in the chair, and the vertebrae in her neck pop. ‘Did you feel that?’ She was a hairs breadth away from tumbling into orgasm, and the man had done nothing more than lace her boots. He nodded, holding her gaze. His pupils were dilated, his breathing was fast. For a second neither of them moved. Time itself didn’t even move, like everything was holding its breath, like everything was waiting, just barely able to contain the anticipation, the excitement.

Then the world exploded back into real time, and she shoved her way out of the chair and onto the clerk who was still settled on his knees between her legs. He tumbled backward against the floor with a guttural sound somewhere between a groan and a growl just managing to adjust his position as she ground her way onto his lap, straddling his groin. The skirt had ridden up over her hips, and the crotch of her panties was the only thing preventing her bare ache against the tell-tale bulge in his jeans.

Smooch for Blissekiss ValentineskdgraceBefore he could say anything, she took his mouth in a clash of lips and teeth and tongue. He was more than accommodating, tongue darting, lips tugging in an effort that quickly escaped the confines of her mouth to nibble down over her jaw and wage a humid, ticklish assault on her nape, every nip of which she felt between her legs. He made quick work of her buttons, then shoved her blouse open and slid a bra strap aside to lift her right breast free to his cupping and kneading, free to be ravaged by his very expressive mouth. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this,’ he whispered against her breast. ‘Not during working hours.’

‘But I need you,’ she said, then gasped and shuddered as he bit her nipple. ‘I’ll never make it back home like this. Don’t force me to take care of myself in an alley’

‘I’m supposed to be selling shoes, not fucking my customers.’

‘You are selling shoes.’ She wriggled her toes in her boots. ‘See. And who says we have to fuck?’

He offered a wicked chuckle, then rolled with her, and when he was on top, he lifted her legs around his hips so that his still-clothed erection raked between her still- pantied swell. ‘You’re absolutely right. We don’t have to fuck,’ he said, looking down at her with his ocean changeable eyes. ‘I always try to satisfy my customers.’ Then he shifted his hips until his girth ploughed a trough right in between the spread of her, pressing her panties tightly into her heat, the fabric binding with a little hitch right against the swell of her clit as he ground and thrust.

 

 

Sunday Snog by the Sea

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I don’t often get organised enough to participate in Sunday Snog, but this Sunday is a special treat for me all the way around, and very deserving of a Sunday Snog. It’s special because of the release of a wonderful new anthololgy called Smut By the Sea, edited by two of my favourite people as well as two very talented authors, Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse. And the gorgeous cover art is done by the lovely Fuschia Ayling, who has illustrated the beginning of my novel, Body Temperature and Rising, and very kindly shared some of her work on this blog.

I feel very honoured to have my sexy lesbian story, Skin, included in amongst stories by some of my very favourite writes, all with a seaside theme. My story, Skin, is about an artist’s encouter with a mysterious woman in the middle of a storm. It’s set in Lyme Regis.  WARNING: this  Sunday snog is definitely not for the faint of heart, but for the lusty libido, it’s just the ticket. Enjoy!

‘You must be freezing too,’ Celia said. ‘I saw you drawing the harbor seal on the beach when the storm hit.’ She scooted down to one end of the tub. ‘Come on. There’s plenty of room.’

Before I could ask how she’d seen me when I was sure I was alone, she grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt with wet hands and worried it off over my head, pulling me forward enough in the process that while I was temporarily blinded by my own top, she reached behind me and unhooked my bra. My much larger, much heavier tits spilled forward into her hands as she slid the bra off, brushing her thumbs against my nipples in the process. ‘There, that’s better, isn’t it? Let’s get all those wet and clammy clothes away from you lovely skin. Now stand up.’

I did as she said, and she went to work on my walking trousers, then she slid her hands inside, hooked fingers into the elastic of my knickers and tugged both down. ‘Now step out of them. That’s right. Mmm you smell delicious. You smell like the sea. Somehow I knew that you would.’

As I lifted my leg to step out of the trousers and knickers now pooled around my ankles, Celia did not look away. I could feel her gaze on what nestled beneath my own tight curls. I normally would have been shy. I normally would have tried to preserve my modesty, but I wanted her to see my pussy. I wanted her to see what I looked like down there. She made room for me, and I stepped into the warm sudsy water. Then we maneuvered for space and she, being much smaller than I, scooted closer, lifting her thighs over mine.

That done she leaned up until she was practically in my lap and brushed a kiss against my lips. ‘Please, let me wash you. You have such beautiful skin.’ She ran a finger along my collar bone and then brushed her palm over my left breast and I sucked in a tight breath. ‘You’re so soft and round and full. You look like a woman is supposed to look. I could never look like you.’ Before I could tell her how beautiful I thought she was and how I admired her body, she took the sponge and drizzled warm water across my breasts. ‘Please tell me it’s alright.’

Lyme Regis

All I could do was whimper and nod, as the sponge moved down my sternum and under and around each of my heavy breasts in turn. Then she took up the soap. I sat hypnotized and wet in ways that had nothing to do with the bath as she lathered and cupped and kneaded my breasts until they looked like they were covered with a soapy white shirt. Then she pushed me back, until I lay with my head resting on the edge of the big tub, and she straddled me. Her soft curls brushed mine, as she drizzled water over my breasts and down my belly. She sponged me in soft caressing motions, moving ever lower onto my tummy until I could no longer resist shifting and rocking my hips, grinding my arse into the unforgiving bottom of the tub. She was practically lying on top of me as she let go of the sponge and cupped my pubis with the palm of her hand.

‘Women smell of the sea as men never can,’ she breathed against my face. ‘I love that about women. With women I’m always close to the sea.’ Then she kissed me with just a touch of tongue, just as she wriggled a finger in between my labia and we both moaned into each other’s mouths. ‘You’re so creamy wet.’ She pressed her pussy against my hip. ‘Do I make you that way?’

‘Oh God yes,’ I breathed, pulling her closer, taking her mouth as though I would eat her up.

‘Then let me taste you. I want to taste you, please.’

Buy Smut By the Sea here: