Finessing Sex at Eroticon 2013

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This time next month I’ll be enjoying Eroticon 2013. I’ll be partaking of the feast of workshops on blogging, writing, publishing, photography, art,  sex education, and more. I’ll be taking advantage of opportunities for networking and meeting new people. I’ll be enjoying and participating in readings by erotica authors. I’ll be getting to know in person people I’ve chatted with online. And just like last year, no doubt, there’ll be lots of dreaming and scheming and just flat-out fun. I’m looking forward to seeing more than a few of you there.

I have to admit my knees get a little shaky and I get butterflies in my stomach when I think about Eroticon 2013 because this year, there’s a delicious list of creative writing workshops offered over the two-day period. There’ll be workshops taught by some of my heroes in the erotica writing world – Kristina Lloyd, Remittance Girl, Vena Ramphal, and Ashley Lister. I’m very much looking forward to the opportunity to learn from the best.

So why the butterflies and nerves? Well, because this year I’ve been asked to teach one of the five creative writing workshops at Eroticon! It’s a first for me. I’ve never actually taught a writing workshop before, and I’m very excited to have been asked. And to be asked to do so in such excellent and exalted company is definitely an honour.

Everyone who knows me and reads my books or my blog (hopefully both) knows that the only time I’m not talking or thinking about writing is writing image 2when I’m sleeping, and then I’m often dreaming about it. Yup, I’m a bit obsessive, and to say I’m enthusiastic about it would be an understatement. I hope to bring some of that enthusiasm for sexy stories into my workshop.

My workshop is called Finessing Sex and, while it’s aimed at giving newbies a foot-up in writing and selling erotica, I like to think that everyone can benefit from another peek at the basics — I know I always do. So there’ll be a little something for everyone.

Finessing sex will take writers beyond the slang of the old ‘in and out’ and beyond the biology of coitus to the other levels within the story and the characters where sex takes place. I hope it will show how well-written sex shapes the story and the characters. The session will involve some writing, some brainstorming and hopefully a whole lot of fun.

I also hope to talk a little about how to best make sure one’s story gets and holds the attention of an editor and how to deal with the inevitable rejections that litter the route to those first sales.

For me, writing has always been about fun. I can’t remember a time when it hasn’t been one of the best parts of my life. But finessing that writing, finessing the sex and the story that goes with it is where the real fun begins, and I hope to share the fun on Sunday March 3rd at 2:15 pm.

Eroticon speaker badge pinkPlease join me for  Eroticon 2013!

Get your tickets here:

Eroticon 2013:

Date and Venue:

Saturday 2nd & Sunday 3rd March 2013 which will be held at the Coin Street Conference Centre, 108 Stamford Street, SE1 9NH

 

 

3 by Julie Hilden

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What’s the greatest sacrifice you would make for love?

Julie Hilden 3 by Julie HildenMaya and Ilan have an unusual marriage: Maya will tolerate Ilan’s chronic infidelity as long as he includes her in the affairs. Initially, Maya finds these unorthodox threesomes as arousing as they are disturbing – but when her writing career takes off and she becomes more independent, Ilan feels threatened, and opts for sexual experimentation of another kind: one that plays on Maya’s fear and ultimately threatens her life.

Meanwhile, Maya is drawn into a relationship with a fateful third character. When her new liaison begins to mirror her marriage to Ilan, Maya discovers that her lover, seemingly a stranger, knows far more about her past than she has revealed.

Brave, daring and deeply erotic: 3 is a compelling chronicle of obsession and power.

‘Julie Hilden does what few writers can dare to. 3 is smart, sexy, strange and impossible to put down.’ Dani Shapiro

Available from:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B009EP83AQ/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B009EP83AQ&linkCode=as2&tag=lucyfelthouse-21

http://www.amazon.com/3-Modern-Erotic-Classics-ebook/dp/B009EP83AQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1359631432&sr=1-1&keywords=julie+hilden

*****

Excerpt:

It is the first Saturday in August when I walk up to the porch of the summerhouse and see them. I am supposed to be in the city this weekend but my interview is canceled, the actor called out of town. I see them through the fan propped in the window, through the transparent blur of its blades.

She is moving on top of him slowly, with such concentration that though she faces the window, though she could look right at me, she does not. I am only a few feet away from her. I have never seen her before.

I watch her glossy brown hair shift on her shoulders, I watch her empty eyes as she moves on him with calculation, with slack lips, with nipples so erect that the areolae wrinkle around them – as she moves with such pleasure, really, that who could hate her in this moment?

To love her, to want to be her, to want to touch her, yes. But not to hate her, not in this.

I watch her, and watch, too, a sliver of Ilan’s narrow chest beneath her, its pattern of hair that breaks across his sternum. I can see the necklace sliding on his chest as they move, the tiny silver hand slipping back and forth, its touch faster and jerkier than Ilan’s own smooth caresses – than the touch of his hand moving on her downy back.

For perhaps five minutes, I don’t say a word. It seems a weird privilege: here is the life I don’t see, the life that goes on without me. I watch them as a ghost watches the living.

Then I say his name slowly, just audibly. She starts and looks around wildly. When she looks through the fan and sees me, she gasps.

Ilan does not start at all; not a flicker. But he lifts his head, sees me, and winces, and just like that he lifts her off him and at the same time off the bed.

‘You have to go now,’ he tells her.

She dresses insolently slowly. Her blouse fastens in the back with a line of ties – it is really just a square of cloth that settles on her breasts – and she loops each of the ties into a perfect bow.

‘Fuck you,’ she tells Ilan. ‘You fucking liar. I deserve better than you.’ Righteous anger, but controlled.

She and I brush past each other. It’s as if she’s preempted me with her anger; I want to shout at Ilan too, curse at him, but I don’t have the heart. ‘I should leave too,’ is all I say.

‘You can’t leave me, Maya. I love you.’

‘Was this the first time – the only time? I need to know.’

‘It started in college,’ he admits, ‘a few weeks after I met you.’

I shiver. I never expected to be chosen by myself, for myself alone. It had felt wrong – unlike me – to be chosen. Now, hearing this, I feel only a sickening familiarity, not surprise.

‘It never meant anything,’ he assures me. ‘I felt awful about it. I don’t know where it comes from. I thought, with enough therapy, I’d talk myself out of it. But all I do is confess, I don’t change.

Look, can we at least sit down? I feel like any moment, you’re going to leave.’

‘Okay, but I’m not promising to stay.’

I sit down on the rattan couch. He stands behind me. I lean back and reach my head up to him – like a rabbit in a cage straining to sip from its water dispenser, the single round, hanging drop. And he leans down, princelike, to kiss me.

Then he starts to touch me. He slips his hands down my jeans, his fingers splayed, rubbing my clitoris insistently, with the slightest pressure. I moan quietly, move against him.

‘Don’t I know you?’ he says. ‘I know exactly what you want, don’t I?’

It agitates me as he rubs and rubs, softly, softly. He touches me the way he learned from me years ago – the way I touch myself. He studied it. The detail of his knowledge of me devastates. If I were to close my eyes, I could confuse his touch with my own.

But as he nuzzles into my shoulder, I smell sex in his hair and break away from him.

‘Would you at least shower?’ I demand.

‘No, you love that. Tell me you love it.’

In seconds my jeans are gone, my shirt is gone. He holds on to me, won’t let me leave.

‘It’s so soft,’ he says as he touches me. ‘You’re so wet.’

He gets a little bleat out of me as he rubs. Then I clamp my mouth shut. Ah, but then I relax it. I begin to breathe in the sex smell in his hair; I begin almost to like it.

‘Maya. Tell me you want this.’

‘I want it.’

‘I knew you did.’ And I do. And it is hours, then, before we can stop.

About the Author:

Julie Hilden graduated from Harvard, and earned a law degree at Yale and an MA in creative writing from Cornell. After several years of practicing law, she has now turned to writing full time. Her first book, a memoir entitled The Bad Daughter, was published by Algonquin Books, and she has also written for Slate magazine. She lives in New York City.

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:

The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford

Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger

The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu

Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu

The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell

The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell

Hogg by Samuel R. Delany

The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany

Sad Sister by Florence Dugas

The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés

Dark Ride by Kent Harrington

3 by Julie Hilden

Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis

Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg

Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg

The Agency by David Meltzer

Burn by Michael Perkins

Dark Matter by Michael Perkins

Evil Companions by Michael Perkins

Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl

Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald

Kyoko Church Shares Sapphic Secrets: Book 2 of the Draper Estates Trilogy

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It’s my pleasure to welcome the deliciously naughty Kyoko Church back to my blog with a little sneak peek at part 2 of The Draper Estates Trilogy, Sapphic Secrets! If you’ve not read part 1, do so without further delay. If you have, then you’ll be as anxious to read what Ms Church has to say as I am! Welcome, Kyoko!

Hi KD!

Thank you so much for having me back to your awesome blog! It’s such a pleasure and you are always so sweet and welcoming.

Today I’m talking about Book Two in my Draper Estates Trilogy, Sapphic Secrets. Last time I was here I told you about what inspired the trilogy here: https://kdgrace.co.uk/guest-bloggers/the-story-behind-the-story-of-kyoko-churchs-novella-nymphomania/ So you know about that. This time I’m going to let you in on the dark secret about this second book. Are you ready? Here it is: I didn’t really want to write it.

The thing is I’m still relatively new to writing novellas. I’ve always written short stories. I’d have a horny inspiration and feel compelled to write it all out. I’d often shut myself away and just write until it was done. Then I’d sigh, have a wank and a smoke and that’d be it. I’m just kidding! I don’t smoke. 🙂

What I’m saying is that short stories come fairly easily to me. Writing a book is something different. It requires more discipline, something I can be a bit short of, to be frank. And this is a trilogy! For me, that is a long time to live with the same characters. They were starting to bug me. I wanted to toss them away and start something new.

I’m shocked that I’m telling you this. Because as a reader, if an author said she had a hard time writing something I would be leery of reading itKyoko Church vol2Sapphic Secrets image. I would worry it would be stilted and awkward, that it wouldn’t be passionate or from the heart.  And that’s how I was afraid this second installment would turn out! But once I finally buckled down and got into it… I liked it again. And I’m so glad! I got my horny writing mojo back and I’m really pleased with how it turned out. But, I should let you be the judge. Here’s an excerpt:

Sapphic Secrets Excerpt:

Lillianne awoke with the now familiar aching throb between her legs.

Oh! It seemed now there was never a moment’s respite.

The air of the master bedroom was cool, almost cold and she hunkered down under the bedclothes and savoured the warmth they held. She was alone. Blessedly alone.

In the soft, warm confines of her bed her hand sought the ache at her centre and cupped it, pressed down on it, tried to assuage it. It felt like that, like a comfort, at first.

Of course, the more she kneaded and pressed it, the more the ache grew, like a fire being slowly stoked. She pressed the covers to her mouth to stifle a groan and rocked herself back and forth in anguish. She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. Because of Dr Samms she was constantly monitored. Who knew when someone could come in? James. Celeste. Her darling Ewan who’d arisen from their marital bed but ten minutes earlier. But the ache persisted and once she’d started touching she felt powerless to stop.

It felt so good. Ah, god, so good to have pressure there. Her body needed it. Craved it. And it wasn’t really so bad, was it, to just hold herself there? That’s really all it was. But after a few moments more her mind flitted back. To thoughts. Oh, nasty thoughts. She shouldn’t be thinking them! Especially not in this way! But they were insidious little things, those perverted thoughts about what her housemaid Celeste had done to her.

Celeste! Not only her housemaid but her confidante. Her best friend. What had the shy little blonde creature been thinking? What could have possessed her? But as the pressure and the pleasure mounted where Lilly held herself between her legs she couldn’t help but remember again how it felt to have Celeste do what she did.

It’s the affliction, Lilly thought. My affliction makes me think these things! It will drive me mad! But once the memories took hold they cemented themselves there. Celeste, shaving Lilly bare between her legs per the doctor’s orders while Lilly’s arms and legs were pinned and powerless, leaving her skin exposed and oh so sensitive. And then. Oh god.

The unthinkable.

Her housemaid put her mouth there.

Her tongue! Right on the burning centre of her need, the pounding pulse of what drove her madness. And the worst part, the absolute worst part was what Lilly scarcely allowed herself to acknowledge. That to have Celeste’s slick tongue licking and licking that tortured bud of flesh was the most exquisite bliss.

Out of her mind with lustful thoughts Lilly parted her legs wantonly, all thoughts of propriety and repercussions gone. In her mind her finger was Celeste’s tongue on her again but this time, oh this time it would finish what it started.

The first touch of her finger on the sensitive tip of her clitoris was like heaven. Lilly gasped out, her starved body grateful, hungry and eager at the sensation of wonderful firm pressure directly on there again, just like Celeste had done with her talented tongue. Giddy now, she slicked her finger up and down fast and hard, feeling the paroxysm build, not slowly like the evil doctor forced her to endure, but quickly like her body wanted. ‘Oh god!’ she cried, as her body bucked beneath her hand. Her eyes squeezed shut, she couldn’t help but imagine her sweet friend’s blonde head between her legs, moving and working, that tongue laving. ‘Yes! Yes! Please! I need it. Please, Celeste. Please!’ Lilly whispered her tortured pleadings into her bedclothes as she frigged herself hard.

Just as her body began to thrash over the edge of the most powerful paroxysm she’d ever endured, the bedroom door opened and then … Celeste was standing there.

 ***

In case you’re wondering, I have none of those same qualms about Book Three. For whatever reason, maybe exactly because I’ve lived with these characters for this long, I am now excited to get to the third installment. Oh, just wait until you find out what’s in store for Lillianne! I am simply bursting to get to it. And … there just may be somebody new who’ll be added to the mix. 😉

I really hope you enjoy it! And I always welcome your feedback. Come by my blog and say hi!

Blurb:

Labelled a nymphomaniac because of her passion, Lillianne Draper is forced to spend her days restrained. She has managed to banish the nefarious Dr Samms only to begin to question the motives of her scullery maid, Celeste. Charged with the task of monitoring her mistress’s illness, Celeste seems to enjoy her new responsibility a little too much.  Lillianne must try and control her body’s responses or her husband will order the return of the doctor who tormented her. But being left every day at the mercy of Celeste is arousing desires in Lilly she didn’t know she had.

Links:

http://www.amazon.com/Sapphic-Secrets-Estates-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00APK7LB6/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1356738770&sr=1-1&keywords=sapphic+secrets

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sapphic-Secrets-Estates-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00APK7LB6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1356738817&sr=8-1

Kyoko ChurchNymphomania1About Kyoko Church:

Kyoko Church discovered the power of the written erotic word when she was 16 years old and penned a very explicit missive to her boyfriend detailing all the naughty things she wanted to do to him. When he received it, boyfriend was impressed. When he found it, father was not.

For the next 18 years she hid her naughty thoughts in shame. Until she found a community where they were once again appreciated for the well-imagined smut they are. Her short stories have been published in anthologies by Black Lace, Rubicund Publishing and Xcite Books. Book One, Nymphomania, and Book Two, Sapphic Secrets, in her Draper Estate Trilogy were published by Xcite in 2012. For Her Pleasure will be published by HarperCollins Mischief in March 2013.

A Canuck by birth, she has recently made Australia her home. She is currently learning to drive on the left and say G’day convincingly.

Website: kyokochurch.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kyoko.church

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kyokochurch

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/kyokochurch/

Eroticon 2013 Double the Fun, Double the Experience

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Eroticon 2013 image320924_325293390909026_2122801621_nKD: I’m so excited! The second annual Eroticon is coming up soon! This year it’ll be in London, and this year it’ll be twice the fun because it’s two days instead of one – March 2-3. Make sure you have those dates down. I elbowed my way right in to make sure I had the chance to interview the founder, and the heart and soul of Eroticon, the astounding Ruby Kiddell! Welcome, Ruby! It’s lovely to have you here again.

Other than the double the fun, can you tell us what major differences people can expect at this year’s Eroticon?

RK: Hi KD, thank you for having me here again to talk about Eroticon, two days, I must be mad, but you all wanted more so you’re getting more!

The main difference this year is a greater breadth of content to include sex education, sex work, pornography and to hear voices from different communities.

I also wanted to have a very strong creative core for the conference, so this year there are five creative writing sessions and two photography sessions.

KD: Is there anything about this year’s Eroticon that you’re particularly excited about?

RK: I am very proud to have extended our relationship with the sexual health charity Brook to have them as our charity of the year.  They will be presenting the opening plenary and will have staff on hand to talk with delegates about their work and how people can support it via their blogs and in their communities and a donation of £2 from every ticket sale will be going to the charity.

KD: Ruby, I asked this question last year, but I know my readers will want to know, what exactly inspired Eroticon? And could you give us a brief history of that spark of inspiration until now, especially after last year’s phenomenal success.

RK: Eroticon was originally inspired by Cybermummy, a conference for parent bloggers founded by Sian To (@geekisnewchic) I knew that Molly (@mollysdailykiss) was going along with a few other bloggers who wrote erotica or had adult orientated blogs as well as family blogs. I just put those two ideas together and felt that there needed to be an event where people could come and discuss the craft of writing and blogging without fearing judgment of their content.

KD: With one Eroticon under your belt and the second one promising to be even more fabulous, what lessons have you learned? What will you NOT do again, and what is a definite MORE, PLEASE?

RK: The main thing I try to focus on is delivery great content.  It is nice to have a fantastic venue and interesting sponsors, but to create an event that people want to come back to year after year requires delivering outstanding content from inspirational speakers.

Future plans include Eroticon USA as well as looking at doing shorter regional workshop days and perhaps some retreats.

KD: Ruby, I know you keep your finger on the pulse of what’s happening in the blogging world as well as the sex writing world, fictional and otherwise, what major changes have you noticed, if any, since last year?

RK: Ah you flatter me, I like it! There has been a massive surge of interest in erotica and sex toys over the last year due to the success of Fifty Shades of Grey and a lot of products lines and imprints have been launched to ride that wave and to reach out to the “new” mainstream audience.

Companies have reached out to bloggers in other communities to review sex toys and books which has been great for people feeling more comfortable about writing and talking about sex.

The avant guarde have also responded with new independent presses being launched with a focus on literary fiction.

In the next year or so I think we’re going to see more adult companies investing in blogger outreach which means sex bloggers are going to have to become more aware of legal issues around advertising and promotions.

I think we’re going to see G+ become increasingly important as a social network and marketing tool.  I’m already looking at how we can integrate G+ into the delivery of conference content.  If you’re on G+ you can find the Eroticon page here > https://plus.google.com/b/114786608373042130890/114786608373042130890/posts

KD: I hate to ask, but I feel like I have to under the circumstances, what effect, if any, has the meteoric success of Fifty Shades of Grey had on the planning and scheming of Eroticon 2013?

RK: In some ways Eroticon is immune to it, last year Eroticon 2012 happened just before Fifty Shades really impacted in the UK and by this March the fuss will have mostly passed.  It has made it easier to talk to mainstream publishers about the conference however their eye is on the mainstream audience of readers rather on those of us that already know how brilliant and fun erotica is.

KD: What surprised you most about the response to Eroticon 2012?

RK: That people felt such a powerful sense of belonging and ownership of the conference. I had worried I’d invented the need for it and no-one would turn up or that people would come and not enjoy it.  Fortunately the response was overwhelming and that proved that there is a need for this event, which was very humbling.

KD: What do people who are interested in participating in Eroticon 2013 need to do, and what can they expect?

RK: If people want to come, they need to buy a ticket.  Day tickets are £90 and weekend tickets are £150, this includes all refreshments and lunch.

The venue is a closed venue which we have to ourselves for the full weekend, this is to protect those that wish to attend anonymously and it means we can relax and be ourselves.

They can expect an amazing weekend of inspiration and fun.  It will be hectic, challenging and exhausting. There will also be sex toys!

Head over here to register > http://writesexright.com/eroticon-2013/registration/

The schedule is here > http://writesexright.com/eroticon-2013/eroticon-schedule/

If anyone has any questions about tickets or the conference they can email me at info@writesexright.com

KD: Anything else you’d like to add.

RK: Only my thanks for having me to visit again and that I’m looking forward to seeing you and all the other Eroticon-ers in March!

KD: Thanks so much for stopping by, Ruby. Always a pleasure to have you. I’m very much looking forward to Eroticon 2013, and for anyone who doesn’t yet have tickets, you know what to do. See you there!

Empty Nest Time Three

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Elemental Fire cover image finalThis week I had my last breakfast of Fiori’s Swedish pancakes with Tara and Anderson and the Elemental coven, and then I sent the finished manuscript of Elemental Fire off to Xcite for the final edit. I’ll have one last read-through when the proofs come back to me and, after that, I’ll be saying good-bye to the Elemental Coven and turning them over to the readers. And my first trilogy will be complete!

What I hadn’t expected was such a huge dose of empty nest syndrome so quickly. I mean I get that feeling after every novel, novella, or story I finish, but this was major. This was three books worth of ENS. This was a story of a long battle for the life and love and the well-being of the Elemental Coven; a battle against a very nasty, yet very sexy demon. Because the story is set in the Lake District, which is one of my favourite places on the planet, that meant that every second I spent on the trilogy was like escaping to Cumbria for a quick break. I’ll miss that a lot!

Elemental Cottage and Lacewing Farm have become real to me. I love curling up in front of the fireplace on the cushions in Tim Meriwether’s farmhouse with a nice bottle of claret. I love sitting in the lovely library at Elemental Cottage eating Fiori’s homemade gingerbread and having a cuppa while discussing ways to take out Deacon. I love time spent with Tara in the greenhouse. I love sexy magic circles cast in the Room of Reflection or in the Dream Cave. I love sitting down with the whole coven for a fry-up or a breakfast of Fiori’s Swedish pancakes after a hot night of sex magic. I love the camaraderie and the closeness that developed in the coven, and I love the fun-loving spirit in spite of the adversity with which they were dealing.

There are other stories to be told, the stories of other members of the Elemental Coven, the stories of other magical experiences in the Lake District, and I’ll go back there in a heartbeat if the Muse is willing. And I’ll be honest, I go back and visit all my novels periodically, at least in my head. The characters have been too much a part of my life not to, and never more so than the Elemental Coven because I’ve walked the land, been caught out in the mist, explored the quarries, drank in the fresh fell air.

Of course it’s not the end. It’s only the beginning, really. As always, the best part will be sharing Elemental Fire and the antics of the Elemental Coven with you. I look forward to that even more than Fiori’s Swedish pancakes. So here’s a little peek of what’s to come.

Elemental Fire Blurb:

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.

Excerpt:

From far away someone shook Tara’s arm, someone called to her in distressed tones, trying to bring her back to the Waking World. But she Riding the Ether cover image Finaldidn’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 — ’

‘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?’

BTR FINAL IMAGEThe 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.

Dismantle tramway from Fleetwith PikeHe 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.