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Guest Blogger: Elizabeth Black

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reviewertoppick2Night Owl Reviews TOP PICK Novel Don’t Call Me Baby 25% Off!

Celebrate Don’t Call Me Baby’s TOP PICK review by buying it for 25% off at All Romance eBooks and Naughty Nights Press until May 31!

Buy Links

Naughty Nights Press

http://tinyurl.com/dont-call-me-baby-nnp

AllRomanceeBooks

http://tinyurl.com/dont-call-me-baby-are

Night Owl Reviews

http://www.nightowlreviews.com/v5/Reviews/Hitherandthee-reviews-Don-t-Call-Me-Baby-by-Elizabeth-Black

Top Pick

4 1/2 stars

HitherandThee

 

Don’t Call Me Baby is a fast paced, very adventurous romantic novel that will take readers on a roller coaster ride of scorching romantic fun. The main character, Catherine, is a woman after my own heart. She is young and fiercely independent, and beyond gorgeous. She is not wealthy, but she wants to live the good life and is not afraid to go get it. She is also very sexually liberated, and in the 1980’s this was sometimes a good thing, and sometimes a not so good thing. The story is so blisteringly hot and steamy; it’s difficult to put down. It took me back to a better time, and a time I enjoyed much more. It is a novel I truly enjoyed reading, and will definitely be reading time and time again. It’s not for the faint of heart, but it’s also not to be missed.

So many men, so little time. Catherine has a long list of men that she sees on a regular basis, and at the top of the list (for the moment, anyway) is Brian. He’s one of her professors at Quincy, and a married man, but that’s never been a problem. But he’s so demanding! So maybe some time apart will be just the trick. A summer theater camp at another local college for local teens should make him realize that Catherine is not his possession, right? That is, until she gets to the camp and meets the other counselors. Ryan is gorgeous, and the rest? Well, what’s a girl on her own to do? Why, enjoy as many as she can! In the meantime, Catherine will come to grips with her mind and her heart, and will figure out what she really wants in life.

baby_top_pickBook Blurb for Don’t Call Me Baby

DON’T CALL ME ‘BABY’ is a fast-paced, quick-witted, sexy, novel about a young woman exploring her sexuality and the cultural morés she collides with on a daily basis.

It’s 1983 in Maryland and Catherine Stone is sex on wheels. She plays the field the way men have done for aeons. Not content to strive for her MRS degree like so many young women her age, she seduces men of all stripes – married college professors, theatre students, virgins, complete strangers who intrigue her. She has already cost one man his job.

She asks herself lots of questions on her search to enjoy her sexuality. Why don’t other women enjoy their sex as much as she does? Why do so many women and men look down on sexually free women, calling them sluts while sexually free men are called studs and Lotharios? She bucks at the double standards! Catherine has made no commitment to any man. She’s free to explore and she gladly does so. No man can tie her down and no woman’s judgment will stop her from playing the field to her heart’s content.

Does she meet her match in a new man who introduces her to sexual bliss she had never before experienced? When she tries multiple partners and bondage for the first time as a submissive, she believes she’s found the sexual bliss she is looking for – and with a man who not only introduces her to the fineries in life but also cares about her like no man ever has before.

Excerpt

[Intro: Catherine Stone is my heroine and the book’s main character. She has taken a summer job at a college camp. Ryan is the older college professor in charge of the camp. KC (aka Casey) is one of the counselors who becomes one of Catherine’s closest friends. DJ teaches drama at the camp. They are currently in an orientation meeting before camp begins.]

At that moment, a young man ran into the room in a blaze of jeans and oversized t-shirt. He tossed his backpack behind the chair next to DJ, and then plopped into a seat.

“Nice of you to drop by, KC.” Ryan said.

“Sorry I’m late. Ran a bit behind this morning.” He gave the crowd a big toothy grin, and leaned back in his chair until the front two legs were off the ground. Oh, boy. This guy is going to be fun. “Okay, alarm didn’t go off. But I’m here. So… did I miss anything?”

“Not yet, but you did manage to be the center of attention again,” Ryan tried to sound miffed, but Catherine saw his dimples deepen as he tried not to smile. “We just did introductions. You can get to know everyone here a bit later. Now, I need to get started.”

The orientation went well. Catherine kept her legs up on the table, showing them off, and her stunt did not get past KC. His eyebrows shot up, and he blew a kiss in her direction. Catherine couldn’t help but like him immediately. He seemed to be the type of guy who didn’t take a thing seriously, and she liked to surround herself with people like that. KC’s silly mood was infectious, and soon with his carousing and smart-mouthed funny comments, everyone at the table was laughing. Monica and Ryan assigned each worker to a class. DJ and Catherine were to teach drama.

“I brought my accordion again,” KC said. “You know how much the kids loved me last year.”

“They cringed, KC,” DJ said. “Did you actually watch them when you played Freebird? On the accordion? You were not cool, dude. Try as you might.”

“I was the coolest guy in the room. You’re just jealous because you can’t pick out Freebird on that tin-plated noise machine you play.”

“It’s a 12-string steel guitar, and I can pick out Freebird just fine.”

“Looks like Miss Longest-Legs-in-the-Universe here is also a guitarist. You two can play the theme to Deliverance to really get the kids in a good mood.”

“How’d you know I play the guitar?” Catherine stretched her legs in response to KC’s ribbing. Her movement did not get past Ryan’s attention. That pleased her to no end.

“I saw you arrive, and you hoisted that guitar over your head. I see a threesome in your future – no, not that kind! Get your mind out of the gutter!!” He laughed at his own joke, and so did everyone in the room, including Catherine. “Us, on guitars. You, DJ, and I. Scaring the kids to death with our bad renditions of Kumbaya. And there’s no need to look so horrified. DJ is used to me picking on him. It’s all in good fun. We’ve been best friends since we were in fourth grade.”

“And we’ve been at each other’s throats ever since.” DJ said. “I’m glad we’re going to teach the drama classes, Catherine. Your suggestion of improvs is perfect. After the meeting, want to do some brainstorming?”

“Sounds good to me. I have lots of good ideas.”

“Don’t let him hog all the ideas,” KC said. “He’s a born monopolizer.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“I do. All the time.” He winked at her, and DJ busted out laughing. It was good to see DJ’s handsome smile. It made his demeanor seem less standoffish. She figured out his relationship with Casey. They balanced each other out very nicely. DJ was the imposing Pontiac GTO and Casey was the Triumph Spitfire.

When Monica learned that Catherine played the piano, guitar, and flute, she immediately added her name to the list of people to play music around the campfire at night. DJ would join her on the guitar and KC on the accordion. What is it with the initials for names around here? Did their parents name them by choosing two different blocks from a game of Scrabble? It wasn’t required that she play every night, but it sure sounded like fun.

Once the meeting was over, and everyone left the room to go about their business, Catherine ran until she caught up with KC and DJ. But she didn’t leave without giving Ryan a coy smile and a wiggle of her hips. His gaze traveled to parts of her body that would have been considered impolite in mixed company. She didn’t turn to see Ryan watch her as she wiggled her way out into the hall towards KC and DJ.

“Here she is, the girl with the longest legs in the world. And damn! You’re short!”

She looked up at KC. “I’m five foot nothing. Most of it legs. You are what? Six feet?”

“Six foot two. So you and my buddy DJ are going to run the acting workshops for the kids?”

“Sure looks that way. It sounds like fun. I know lots of theatre exercises we could try on the kids. They make great icebreakers, too.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two kids to your theatre business,” KC said. “I haven’t unpacked yet, and I want to get myself settled in. See you two at dinner?”

“Yeah. What does KC stand for anyway?”

“Kevin Collins. I go by ‘‘Casey,’ C-A-S-E-Y. Emphasis on the first syllable. I’ll see you two later.”

He ran off before either of them could answer, which struck Catherine as something he did on a regular basis. Looks like you met your match, girl. Being around Casey could be exhausting, and she had only a little bit of exposure to him. How was she going to survive two weeks of “Whirlwind Casey”? She wasn’t the least bit attracted to him, and she didn’t want to fuck him, but he was far too much fun to ignore. He’d be a good friend to have in her corner if she needed one. And she wanted to make friends with him regardless of what gossip might erupt about her sexual activities, and there was bound to be some sooner or later.

Coming Together: With Curves, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse

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Coming Together With CurvesCurvy girls and the men (and women!) that love them is the theme of this charity anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From Zumba classes to Burlesque dancers, all kinds of big and beautiful women are portrayed between the pages of this book. Read about birthday surprises, smut at the gym, horse riders, lusty couples, naughty neighbours, skilled bakers, rope bondage and misunderstandings from some of erotica’s best authors.

Sales proceeds benefit Parkinson’s UK.

Contents: Six Lengths of Red Hemp (Tilly Hunter), Cross Trainer Number Four (Lily Harlem), Bella Buxom, Just Squeeze Me (JoAnne Kenrick), Captivated (Elizabeth Lapthorne), Red Rag to a Bull (Victoria Blisse), Girl Next Door (Bella Blake), Lush Buns (Sommer Marsden), The Big Reveal (Giselle Renarde), The Wrong End of the Stick (Lucy Felthouse), Riding School (Bella Blake), Flesh For Fantasy (Lexie Bay).

Available from: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/coming-together-with-curves/

*****

Bonnie stifled a sigh. He was doing it again. Staring at her, as he had been every day that week. She was on a fortnight’s training course through work. She was the only one from her office who’d been sent. As a result, she knew no one and ended up sitting alone in the college’s cafeteria at lunchtimes. She’d had a couple of invites from kindly people also on her course, but she’d turned them down. It wasn’t that she was being rude or anti-social, she just hated people to see her eat. She was a big girl—that was putting it politely—and when people saw her eat, she could feel the judgment rolling off them in waves, the thoughts that she was fat because she ate so much.

It wasn’t true. About what she ate, that was. She was fat, and there was no denying it. But it certainly wasn’t her doing. She’d been born to large parents, and despite a healthy diet and plenty of exercise, she was still overweight. All she ever managed to shift was a pound or two here and there, and that was hardly noticeable, particularly on a woman her size. She kept at it, though, resigned to being a larger lady, but determined not to get any bigger.

Because she’d always been big, she was used to the snide comments, the dirty and derisive looks, the open stares. So it didn’t upset her any more, but she still got irritated when people simply gawped at her. Surely one glance was enough for them to ascertain that yes, she was a shapely girl, and then move on. In most cases it was, particularly if she glared at the person in question. But not with this guy. She was sure he was trying to be subtle, because he often averted his gaze as she trained hers on him. But even if he’d looked away, she could tell by the position of his head and body that he’d been peeking at her. Again.

Now, on day seven, she was almost at boiling point. What the hell was his problem? Had no one ever told him it was rude to stare? She was on the verge of doing just that.

Eating her lunch was an unpleasant task, knowing she was being observed. If she hadn’t been so damn hungry, she’d have left it. But she’d been running late that morning and had committed that mortal sin—missing breakfast. So her chicken salad—with no dressing—was absolutely necessary to avoid making herself feel ill, or passing out, so she devoured every last morsel. She ate faster than she normally would, not because she was being greedy, but because the sooner she finished eating, the sooner she’d stop feeling so damn self-conscious about the guy across the room watching her.

She decided to give him one last chance. When she’d finished her lunch, she’d drink her carton of apple juice, then sit for a few seconds, doing nothing. If he continued to look at her, she was going to stomp over there and give him what for. If he didn’t, then she’d carry on with life and do her best to forget about him and his rudeness.

Deep down, she knew she was going to have to go over and say something to him. After seven days, he wasn’t going to suddenly amend his habits. She was just being a bit of a wimp, really, hoping to find some way of getting out of confrontation, because she didn’t like it, not one bit, and it was absolutely a last resort. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a single other way of stopping him from doing it. Perhaps she could put up a sign in front of her saying “Please stop staring at me.” But if he couldn’t take the hint when she’d glared at him, he wouldn’t take any notice of a piece of paper.

Several minutes later, her salad was gone and she moved onto her drink. With a sinking feeling in her gut, she saw he was just as interested in her now as he had been when she’d been eating. Damn, confrontation it was then.

Draining the carton, she gathered her plate, cutlery and other rubbish onto her tray, stood up and slid it onto the rack nearest her. Then she returned to her table, grabbed her bag, pulled in a deep breath through her nostrils and marched over to the Peeping Tom. She slid out the chair opposite him and sat down on it.

*****

Editor sites:

http://victoriablisse.co.uk

http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk

The Taming: Part 3 of The Pet Shop — FREE!

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I’m very excited to announce another FREE taste of my critically acclaimed novel, The Pet Shop! Alongside the original novel, The Pet Shop is now being offered by Xcite in a limited Kindle edition three-part series. Same Story, same sexy, naughty Pets, only broken down into three bite-size, mouthwatering novellas. Part Three, The Taming, is now available for FREE for the next five days on Amazon beginning on Wednesday, 22 May.  And, since Xcite is only too aware that Pets are addicting, to help feed your addiction for hot kinky romance, Part One, The Gift, and Part Two,  The Secret Life of Pets, are just £.77 each in the UK and $1.19 in the US. Remember, the three-part version of The Pet Shop will get you the same delicious story as the novel, only in three smaller packages to keep you titillated and teased with yummy bite-sized morsels. Enjoy!

(Just a quick reminder. If you’re an early bird on the other side of the Pond, the U.S. link may be available a few hours later than the UK link because of the time change. But be patient, and naughty FREE Pets will swiftly be coming your way)

Here’s a little teaser of what you’ll find in The Taming. Remember, though the download of The Taming is free, it’s anything BUT tame.

Blurb:

Reclusive philanthropist, Vincent Evanston has told Stella James she can have Vincent or she can have Tino, the Pet, but she can’t have both. The problem is Stella wants both. As the complications of wanting both sides of a man who can’t allow himself to be whole mount, Stella must walk the thin line that separates the business of pleasure from the dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

Excerpt:

‘It’s not bad enough they saddle me with Tino, now I get his female counterpart.’ The familiar handler in his black suit pushed his way in and started tugging at Stella’s clothes. ‘Do I have torture me written across my forehead? Is it bad karma? I swear I don’t know what I did to deserve you two.’

She tried to shove his hands away. ‘Look, I just can’t do this. I was told that once I was out I was out, and I just can’t do this. I want out, alright?’

‘Bullshit! Of course you can do it, and it’s not alright, now get out of your clothes and stop talking or I’ll have to spank your arse, and don’t think I won’t do it. Fuckin’ hell, first Tino, then you, and now both of you. They don’t pay me enough for this.’

Suddenly she stopped fighting him and he continued with the stripping. ‘Did you say Tino? Tino’s with you.’

‘I’m speaking English, aren’t I?’ He gave her a resounding smack across the arse he’d just bared and shoved the trench coat at her. ‘Get into this, and you’d better manage to at least act horny when you get there ‘cause I don’t have time to strap you into the Foreplayer.’ He smacked her bottom again, then wrestled her into the coat and jerked the sash tight. ‘Now give me your keys and let’s go unless you want your arse and Tino’s spanked soundly by your keeper for being late when you get there. Tino might like that just fine. Not sure how your tender little bum would hold up.’

She was trembling so hard by the time she got to the van that the handler had to help her in. He had taken the trench coat and shoved her into the large pet carrier before she realized she was sharing it with Tino, who scooped her to him in a tight embrace, and the delicious scent of the big Pet filled her nostrils and made her cunt clench and her pulse race. But it was Vincent’s smell too. Her nose wouldn’t be fooled this time, no matter how differently the two of them behaved. And the clench in her cunt was followed quickly by an even harder clench in her heart and a knotting in her stomach as she thought of waking up to find him gone. What the fuck kind of game was he playing?

With a growl that sounded too wild to belong to a Pet, she shoved her way out of his arms and elbowed him in the stomach generating enough momentum, even in the confined space, to make him grunt. The look of hurt on his face made her even more angry. How dare he be hurt? She wasn’t the one who ran away, and she’d had about enough of this emotional bate and switch. When he reached for her again, she bit him, hard. He sucked air and flinched. She wasn’t certain, but she thought he might have actually had to wrestle back a curse.

She shoved her way to the far corner of the pet carrier, banging her head on the side as the van driver took off. The handler, who stayed in the back with the pets pounded on the top of the cage, clearly misunderstanding what was going on.

‘Tino, you keep your cock to yourself until I get you there, you hear me? If I see any sign of spunk, or smell it, I’ll tell your keeper to tie that cock of yours in a knot and make you hold your load all weekend, you got that?’

Not if hell freezes over will he find any spunk, at least not any having to do with her, Stella thought.

She could see Tino’s pulse pounding against his throat, and his chest rose and fell like he would hyperventilate. And he was hard. He was always hard, damn him!

She pressed her cheek to the side of the Pet carrier and tried to ignore the way his gaze bore into her, tried to ignore the press of their legs, which was unavoidable in the tight space. And the smell of him. My god, how could she ignore the smell of him? She dreamed of his scent. She masturbated to thoughts of his scent, and here she was trapped with it, and aching for it, and still so furious she could barely breathe. She wanted to yell and scream at him, she wanted to know why, why he had left her. What game he was playing?  Instead she sat with her back pressed as tightly to the slats of the carrier as possible and tried to ignore him.

The next time he reached for her, she slapped him, slapped him hard enough to make her hand sting.

‘What the hell are you two up to?’ The handler rattled the pet carrier again. ‘If I have to drag you both out and wear the spanker out on your bottoms, don’t think I won’t. Now knock it off.’

Stella pulled herself as far into the corner as she could get and tried to ignore the smell of Tino’s arousal, made even more obvious by his erection bobbing against his thigh, the thigh he made no effort to pull out of her space. She shoved at him. But he didn’t budge. She tried to turn her back on him as much as she could, but he pushed in still closer, not allowing her to ignore him.

He kept pushing at her and pushing at her until she kicked at him, which was useless with bare feet in such tight quarters, but he took the opportunity to pounce, nearly upsetting the pet carrier. The handler cursed and uttered a string of threats, most of which Stella didn’t hear because she was fighting to keep from being pinned under Tino.

The van screeched to a halt with both pets being shoved by the momentum to the front of the carrier. Then the carrier door flew open and Tino was wrestled out by the handler and the driver. ‘Goddamn it, I said knock it off!’ The driver held Tino while the handler hooked his collar to a short lead and a pair of hand cuffs that were attached to the wall of the van, then he stormed out of the van and Stella could hear him shouting into his mobile something about all hell breaking loose.

Tino ignored it all, as though nothing else in the world had his attention but her. His gaze was now unreadable, possibly a little more like Vincent, but then how the hell could she tell who he was playing at. The van driver stepped out to have a fag, and she took advantage. ‘You left me, you son of a bitch. You left me without telling me why.’

She swallowed the last word as the door to the van burst open and the handler shoved his way back in to sit down next to Tino. ‘Lucky for you two miscreants the Professor assures me he’ll have no trouble handling misbehaving Pets. I think he rather likes the idea. The thought of you two being soundly disciplined definitely warms the cockles of my heart.’

The driver got back in and the van headed back down the M 25. This time the look on Tino’s face was utterly wounded, a look she couldn’t bare. She closed her eyes fighting back tears.

From Amazon.com

The Taming

The Secret Life of Pets

The Gift

From Amazon.co.uk

The Taming

The Secret Life of Pets

The Gift

Lisabet Sarai Breaks the Rules with Her Genre-defying New Release, Rajasthani Moon

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Fear of Flying

It would have been much faster to fly.

Alas, Cecily Harrowsmith—special agent for Her Majesty the Queen, expert in the martial arts of three continents, past mistress of princes, potentates and the occasional prime minister—was afraid of flying. She despised herself for this weakness, but not enough to board one of the Empire’s sleek, viridium-powered airships, strap herself into her seat and hope for the best.

Hence the current tedious journey. Cecily peered out of the window of herLisabet Sarai May post123rfDirigible-14428352_s carriage at the endless

expanse of russet-coloured desert stretching in all directions. The mere sight of all that sand was enough to make her throat burn. She sipped her tepid tea, wondering for the twentieth time why she’d accepted this bloody assignment.

Thus begins my most recent release, Rajasthani Moon, a book that deliberately defies categorization. It contains elements of the steam punk and paranormal sub-genres, plus quite a lot of moderately extreme BDSM and a M/F/M ménage. It features a kick-ass Rubenesque heroine, a billionaire Rajah and a sexy, deliciously disreputable bandit. It flirts with non-consensual fantasies and lesbian attraction. It has some funny moments, not infrequently associated with sex. Oh, and it’s a romance, with what I hope is a sublimely satisfying happy ending (although I won’t tell you who ends up with whom!)

Writing this book involved taking risks. I’ve observed how readers cling to their favorite genres. I’m breaking rules right and left with this novel. Will the market embrace my mash-up? Or will readers run away in droves, terrified of the unfamiliar?

Producing the same sort of stories, again and again, can be comfortable. It may help sales,  too. To grow as authors, though, we have to leave safety behind. We must step out onto that high pinnacle of creativity and let go, defying the fear that we’ll plummet ignominiously to the ground. We have to get over our fear of flying.

Rajasthani Moon is like nothing I’ve written before. Well, that’s not strictly true. Like most of my books, it has plenty of erotic content. What I mean is that I’ve never felt so free as I did writing this book. I gave myself permission to follow my imagination, no matter how wild its suggestions. I found this Lisabet Sarai may postrajasthanimoon_noquote_800difficult at first. The further I ventured out onto my self-constructed limb, though, the easier I found the process.

The result? Well, I’m pleased with it. I have no idea what other people will think. But I won’t worry. That’s out of my control.

And Cecily? She conquers her fear, too, eventually:

The passenger compartment was about ten feet long. Its walls were chest height. A canopy shaded one end, including the brass and quartz crystal control panel. The other was open to the sky, though the gas bag a dozen feet above them shielded them from the most direct rays of the sun. She was not surprised to discover that the floor was covered by multiple layers of intricately-patterned carpets and strewn with fat, multi-hued pillows. The Rajasthanis seemed to have little use for furniture.

Amir busied himself at the controls while Pratan lounged on the cushions, looking rakish and indolent. “Come here, Cecily,” he ordered. “Sometimes the take-off is a bit bumpy.”

Her heartbeat accelerated and her palms started to sweat at this reminder of what lay ahead. She gave him a sharp look. She could have sworn he was suppressing a chuckle.

Nevertheless, she reclined beside him, as he’d instructed. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and held her tight against his chest. His strength reassured her, but she still felt as though her stomach was turning somersaults.

A low frequency vibration hummed under them as Amir started the engine.

“Here we go,” called the Rajah. “Prepare to lift off.”

“Kiss me,” said Pratan. He took possession of her mouth without waiting for her acquiescence.

Amir released the tethers binding the dirigible to the roof. They retracted into their housings with a snap and the gondola swayed in reaction, springing upward a few feet. Cecily’s heart climbed into her throat. She gritted her teeth against sudden nausea. Pratan’s agile tongue wormed its way between her lips, urging her to relax and open, and the spell passed. Meanwhile, his hands wandered over her body, pulling her loose clothing out of the way so that he could stroke her breasts and belly.

His scent enveloped her, sandalwood and smoke superimposed on animal musk. The wolf had not returned since their encounter on Mount Abu, but Pratan still smelt like something feral. He burrowed into her, sucking on her tongue and nibbling her lips, while his fingers teased her nipples into hungry knots. Cecily moaned as the pleasure mounted. She lay back, cradled in the nest of cushions, and allowed him free access.

***

Rajasthani Moon is available now from Total-E-Bound, at a 10% discount, and will have its general release at Amazon and other bookstores on May 31st. But why not get your copy now and save? TEB can download direct to your Kindle or other e-reader.

About Lisabet Sarai

Lisabet Sarai may postlisabetFaceLisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.

Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre.  She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.

For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com)

Sh!’s Lovely Renee Gives Tips for Women to Make the Most of National Masturbation Month and Beyond!

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To help celebrate National Masturbation Month, it’s my pleasure to welcome back Sh!‘s manager, sexy lady extraordinaire and a very good friend of mine, Renee Denyer. Renee has agreed to give a few helpful hints for getting the best out of a good wank.  Welcome back, Renee!

Sisters Should Be Doing It For Themselves!Renee

When talking about masturbation, many (if not most) women come over all shy and bashful. ‘We don’t ‘do’ masturbation’ (well, we do – but it’s not polite to talk about it). Ask any man, and he’ll proudly tell you he ‘knocked one out’ in the shower this morning, and I even know one man who’ll tell all and sundry that he masturbates twice a day (that certainly explains the stack of wet wipes in his bathroom!), on top of any partner-sex he may be lucky enough to get.

Why is it that us women can’t/won’t share tips on how to flick our beans?

Well, I believe it stems from childhood and being told that ‘nice girls don’t.’ Proud fathers will hand their teenage sons copies of ‘Busty Babes’ whilst bemused mums turn a blind eye. (My OH, for example, even kept a scrap book of all his favourite pictures of knickerless and pert-breasted young ladies during his teenage years. I was rather amused when we realised his mum had kept the homemade wank-mag amongst washed-out old Iron Maiden t-shirts all these years!). Daughters, on the other hand, are told to keep their hands off their privates (and preferably not let anyone else near them either) until they’re at least 30…

Unfair? Hell Yes!

Here at Sh! Women’s Erotic Emporium, we’ve met so many women who don’t know how to pleasure themselves that we decided to put together a

Rosie
Rosie

class on how to wank. Yep. It’s true. We teach women how to masturbate. With the help of Rosie, we show some tried & tested techniques, and then send the female guests on their merry way with some juicy homework. See, all you really need for a great session is a bottle of lube and dexterous fingers (failing that, a good toy will do the job just as well)!

Imagine the clit as a clock face (the ‘clit-face’). Women often report that 10—11 am and 1-2 pm are the most sensitive spots, so hone in on them, but don’t forget that the entire vulva will want in on the action. Slidey, sensual moves are great for a sexy starter; feel your way around. You’ll find that some spots feel better than others, so enjoy them for as long as you like. If you decide to invite more pleasure-spots to the party, the G-spot will probably be thrilled with an invite!

For the main, a finger or two may work wonders inside. The vaginal canal quite likes having something to grip on to, so you may find this is a real treat. If you find it awkward to reach, a vibrator (or a dildo) may be just the thing. Your pc muscles can clench around the toy whilst your fingers slide around on the external parts of your vulva, and you can have lots of hot fun this way!

Breathing deeply, right down into your stomach, will help increase your arousal levels and by this point you may well find yourself pretty hot and ready for more!

You could try adding some warming lube like ID Sensation for extra effect. ID Sensation contains L’Arginine which ensures increased blood flow to FILTHY-FRIDAY-BANNERyour vulva, making it nice and juicy as well as much more receptive to stimulation.  I also recommend giving Tickle Her Pink sachets a go – I absolutely swear by these! Amazing stuff!

An erotic book or something sexy on the laptop will help you get worked up, too. We offer **FREE** erotica from an excellent selection of authors (Like KD!) on our blog every Friday (Filthy Friday), so make sure you hop on over for some free weekly smut! We’ll be enjoying Sexy Snax this Filthy Friday from Learning to Soar by Bebe Balocca

Renee masturbationlearningtosoar_800-1Stats show that 70-80% of women need clitoral stimulation in order to orgasm, and you are much better off trying to learn what works for you all by yourself before adding a lover into the mix. If *you* don’t know what works for you, it’s unlikely that your partner will hit the right spot…

Keep your masturbation under wraps until you are ready to show off your new skills – it’s incredibly hot watching a partner get themselves off, so expect fireworks once your private show is over! (#BONUS!)

In these cash-strapped times, we are all looking for good-value activities, and you know, masturbation is absolutely FREE (as well as a healthy way of getting some colour on your cheeks and a twinkle in your eye!).  So, Ladiez – get your lube, get a copy of one of KD Grace or Grace Marshall’s books for inspiration, lock the door, switch your phone off and get masturbating!

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Oh, and before I go: Big Thanxx to KD Grace for letting me talk wanking on her awesome blog!

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Renee is the Senior Store Manager at female-focused erotic boutique Sh! Women’s Erotic Emporium in Hoxton Square. She has her fingers in many pies and spends her days talking about G-spots, P-spots and any other spots you may have found in your nether regions.

When she is not selling sex toys to the women & couples of London, she can be found at home with a thrilling book and a glass of pink wine, surrounded by her beloved bunnies (of the furry variety).

Follow the Sh! Girlz for all the latest fun & frolics:Renee on masturbationSh!_logo_300dpi

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Website: http://www.sh-womenstore.com/