Tag Archives: mf

Vows: Asian Adventures III Now Out from Lisabet Sarai

 

 

 

 

The more you try to release desire, the more attached you become.

 

 

Vows Blurb

 

Travel brings out a strange recklessness in my wife, a hunger for extremes that I don’t see when we’re in New York. I would never have acted on my desire for male flesh if she hadn’t bullied me into my first homosexual encounter. Not that I regret it. I’ll never forget that incandescent night with the audacious young punk she bought for me in Amsterdam.

 

Now, she wants us to seduce the achingly beautiful Buddhist monk we’ve met in Luang Prabang. I try to reject her suggestions, to resist temptation. But I can’t banish the images of Souvannaphone— ripe lips curved in a half-smile, brown eyes sparkling with gentle challenge, smooth curves of golden flesh that cry out to be kissed. I yearn for his body—and his serenity.

 

Contemporary multicultural bisexual erotic romance (X rated)

7,400 words

 

HFN ending

 

 

Vows Excerpt 

We strolled northeast toward the far end of the peninsula, where Wat Xieng Thong was situated. The jewel of Luang Prabang, according to our guidebook. We had visited several of the other famous temples in the city. I had been saving this one for last.

 

Dani took my hand as we made our way through the quiet streets, in the lengthening shadow of Phu Si hill. “Relax,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle things. Just leave everything to me.”

That was exactly what I was worried about.

 

The vegetation thickened around us as we left the city center behind. We passed rough wooden houses on stilts, chickens scrabbling in the shade underneath, laundry swaying in the gentle breeze. Occasionally, we heard the muted babble of a television or radio, but we saw no one. It felt as though the whole of the city-village was dozing in the afternoon. I took a deep breath, and then another, trying to release the awful tension that gripped me, but it was no use. I was consumed by desire and dread.

 

Finally we reached the arched gateway to Wat Xieng Thong. Souvannaphone’s home. Gilded nagas, the serpent-dragons that sheltered the Buddha while he meditated, guarded the entry, their scales a riot of multi-colored mirrors. As we stepped over the sill and into the sacred compound, I felt something shift inside me. The choice was made, the effects would follow. Let karma do its worst.

 

At first, the place seemed deserted. Directly in front of us was the magnificent sim, or ordination chapel, with its five-layered, flame-tipped roof swept into dramatic earthward curves. Smaller but equally ornate buildings were scattered around it. Blue tile and gold leaf were everywhere.

 

An enormous, fantastically-twisted tree shaded the entire courtyard. At the same moment —I could tell from the way her hand tightened in mine—Dani and I noticed the figure seated, full lotus, on the turf at the foot of its main trunk.

 

It was, of course, Souvannaphone. His eyes were closed; his chest was bare. The golden, hairless flesh fascinated me. His nipples, more bronze than gold, drew my eyes and made my balls contract and ache.

 

It was his expression, though, that once again brought up my tears. It gave me a glimpse of total peace. Bliss. Perfect stillness and unearthly beauty. My craving to know his exquisite body faded and transformed into exquisite longing to know what he knew, to experience this state of completion.

 

Buy Links

 

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B078LKFC9R/

 

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B078LKFC9R/

 

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/771439

 

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/vows-lisabet-sarai/1127731965?ean=2940155064060

 

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/vows-asian-adventures-book-3

 

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/37751373-vows

 

 

About Lisabet

 

Lisabet Sarai has been addicted to words all her life. 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 one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

 

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter. Sign up for her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

 

Lisabet Sarai Launches Citadel of Women: Asian Adventures Book 2 with a Giveaway

 

 

 

Passion flares among the ruins of an ancient empire

 

 

 

 

 

Win a free copy of Citadel of Women:

To celebrate the launch of Citadel of Women, Lisabet is giving away two copies over at her blog to randomly selected commenters. Giveaway ends next Saturday. just follow the link below:

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2017/12/sizzling-sunday-new-release-and.html

 

 

*****

 

Contemporary multicultural erotic romance (X rated)

8,700 words

#Cambodia #AngkorWat #multicultural #bisexual #romance #travel #FF #MF

 

 

*****

 

 

Citadel of Women Blurb: 

When her lover severs their relationship just before a long-planned trip to Angkor Wat, Doa stubbornly decides to travel alone. The marvelous sights of the ancient Khmer empire do little to heal the rift in her heart. Che, the mercurial young tour guide, senses her loneliness and offers her comfort and passion. Their connection is far more than physical – but how can two people from such different worlds share a future?

 

 

Buy Citadel of Women Here:

 

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/Citadel-Women-Asian-Adventures-Book-ebook/dp/B077TVWGVV/

 

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Citadel-Women-Asian-Adventures-Book-ebook/dp/B077TVWGVV/

 

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/761487

 

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/citadel-of-women-lisabet-sarai/1127544089?ean=2940154632604

 

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/citadel-of-women-asian-adventures-book-2

 

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36672227-citadel-of-women

 

 

Citadel of Women Excerpt:

Dinner was served on the hotel terrace overlooking a small garden. The moist air was a soft, heavy blanket, laced with the scents of jasmine and mosquito coils. Two dim bulbs lit the scene with a golden glow. Our group sat together at a long table, consuming spicy fish, garlicky vegetables, and mounds of rice. I sat at the far end, nearest the garden, listening to the multi-lingual chatter, the clink of silverware, the droning of the insects in the trees. I had never felt so alone.

 

All at once, he was there, settling his loose-limbed frame into the chair across from me. He plunked an amber bottle misted with condensation down in front of me. “You look like you could use this.”

 

He took a swig from his own beer. Not knowing what to say, I did the same. The icy liquid slid down my throat.

 

“Good?”

 

I nodded and drank again before turning the bottle to examine the label. “Angkor Beer?” I laughed.

 

“Why not? One of our leading exports.” He tilted the bottle back. I watched his brown throat move as he swallowed. “Possibly the only thing most people know about my country.”

 

“Really?” It was difficult to talk to him, difficult not to stare at his mobile, expressive face.

 

Fortunately, the beer offered a convenient alternative to conversation.

 

We drank for a while in silence. I wondered how I could politely excuse myself.

 

He replaced his bottle on the table. “You really miss her, don’t you?”

 

My eyes filled with tears. Somehow, though, it was a relief to admit it to someone, even to him.

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

 

“Is she your lover?” I’d read Cambodia was a conservative country, but Che didn’t seem shocked by the idea at all.

 

“Was. She broke it off just before we were supposed to leave on this trip.”

 

“Why?” The question was completely inappropriate, but I could see he wanted to know.

 

I buried my face in my hands. What could I say? How could he ever understand?

 

I heard the scrape of his chair as he rose. His hand rested briefly on my bare shoulder. “Whatever the reason,” he murmured, “I think she was crazy.”

 

 

 

About Lisabet:

 

Lisabet Sarai has been addicted to words all her life. 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 one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

 

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter. Sign up for her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Lily Harlem Can Take the Heat!

heatoftheday_800The Heat in Spain

By Lily Harlem

Thank you for inviting me to your blog today, KD, it’s great to be here once more. I’ve brought with me my new novella Heat of the Day. It’s a ménage a trois story with M/F, M/M and M/F/M scenes in it and set in beautiful Southern Spain.

I’ve been lucky enough to spend quite a lot of time on the Costa Del Sol in and out of the holiday season. It’s a beautiful place, there’s always something going on and the people watching—if that’s something you enjoy doing, which I certainly do—is incredible.

You can sit in Peurto Banus and admire the super-cars crawl by as you sip on sangria and lust after the yachts in the marina. Wandering around the old town of Marbella is always a treat and I particularly love the quaint, cobbled squares which have orange trees providing shade for diners at the exquisite little restaurants – Ohh the tapas! And all the time the majestic Sierra Nevada mountain range towers in the distance.

If you’re feeling flush and in the mood to party don’t miss Nikki Beach. It’s THE place to be seen for the young, hip and rich crowd and a day there consists of music, dancing and drinking champagne – awesome fun! I was lucky enough to get in there once by tagging along with some cool friends!

But it’s the long walks along the beachfronts and promenades that I enjoy the most. The Golden Mile is strung with beautiful villas to admire, there are sand artists in Marbella to stun you as you wander with an ice-cream and if you’re fortunate enough to get on a boat out to sea, you can take a trip to Morocco or Gibraltar. Look out for dolphins too, there’s plenty about.

nikki-beach-It’s my love of this area that brought my decision to set Heat of the Day here. My threesome aren’t rich by any means and certainly wouldn’t have the funds to hit Nikki Beach. They are bar workers who have fallen into a wonderful summer of threesome love, until that is, they are forced apart. But you know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder and when they reunite, phew, the heat of Costa Del Sol is nothing compared to the heat these three feel for each other.

I’m looking forward to a return trip to Southern Spain, I hope perhaps next year, but until then, I’ll keep my heart and thoughts there by using it as a place to set my stories.

Thanks for reading

Lily x

 

10403203_10152653009484149_8858646410541605500_nBack Cover Information for Heat of the Day

When three become two with no explanation, emotions run high, passions flare and hearts are ripped apart.

Everyone can remember a perfect summer—one with endless blue skies, a heart brimming with true love and nights full of hot, sweaty lust. Well, we’ve just had a summer like that, Piper and I, and it was spent in Spain with a man who had that certain je ne sais quoi that we couldn’t resist.

Seraphim came into our lives and blinded us with his beauty, his charisma and his exotic charm. His generosity with his mind, his affection and his body blew us away and the three of us became a joyously tangled trio who needed nothing more than to be together.

So when he left, when we had no way of tracing him, the despair was black, the pain raw and our only comfort was each other. But why did Sera leave? What would make a man walk away from his lovers? And if he showed up again on the doorstep, what the hell would happen after so much angst? One thing’s for sure, it would be an explosive reunion in many ways. Absence might make the heart grow fonder, but it can make the rest of the body highly volatile as need wars with hurt, and pain collides with desire.

 

Reader Advisory: This book contains M/M and M/F scenes.

Buy Heat of the Day from Amazon, Amazon UK, Pride and all other good ebook retailers.

heatoftheday_twitter

In The Heat of the Day Excerpt 18+

 

Eventually they wandered up the wooden steps to their two-bedroom mobile home. They’d never slept in the second bedroom, it was just used for storage, but it meant the living area was clear for lounging. Plus they had a nice bit of decking with a BBQ that had been well used during the summer.

Flynn flung open a few windows to let the heat of the day out then pulled the guitar from his back.

Piper switched on the shower then proceeded to strip off her clothes.

He sat and watched, absently tuning and strumming, admiring the sway of her breasts and the way her limbs moved like fluid. Even hot and tired she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.

“Play while I shower,” she said, curling her hair onto the top of her head and securing it with a pin.

“Anything you wish, my lady.”

She disappeared into the small bathroom.

Flynn listened as the sound of the water became interrupted by her body then he started a lilting melody he knew she adored. The music flowed from his fingertips, the words rolled from his mouth in one long sound. His breathing steadied and his bones relaxed within his skin.

supercarThe song was about happy times. Lovers who’d smiled then left. How goodbye was the hardest word.

Halfway through he stopped. A knot of determination twisted his gut. He had to snap out of this and be thankful for the love he had. The woman who made his life the one he wanted to live.

He set down his guitar then quickly shucked off his shorts. He stood in the tiny bathroom and watched Piper holding her face to the stream of water. Her hair was flattened and hung like a long, thin snake down her back. Her breasts jutted upward and her small strip of pubic hair was pressed to her flesh.

He pulled off his T-shirt.

His cock was hard, his heart beating fast. It was time to say goodbye to Sera, for today at least, and claim his woman.

He squeezed into the shower cubicle and circled her with his arms.

“Flynn,” she said, tensing a little. “I was listening to that. Why’d you stop?”

“Enough listening.” He nibbled her earlobe. “Time to start doing.”

She spun in his arms and pressed close. Her skin was like wet silk, her arms a slender vise as they wound around him. “Okay, so where do you want to start?” Her voice held a tone of humor.

“Right here.” He slipped down to his knees. His butt touched the cool, steamy wall and he was aware of Piper also pressing against the edge of the tiny cubicle. “Open up,” he said, his mouth against her belly as he pressed his palms to her inner thighs. “Let me in.”

She did as he’d asked, widening her stance.

He could see the delicate folds of her pussy, the crease of her lips and the trickle of the water over her mound. He adored tasting her, making her come on his tongue, and it was what he wanted to do right now.

“Flynn,” she gasped, threading her fingers into his hair. “Oh God, yes, please.”

“Are you begging for it?” he asked and glanced upward.

“If that’s what it takes.” She grinned sinfully and tilted her hips.

He’d have taken his tongue to her whether she’d begged or not, but it was nice to know she wanted it as much as he did. He cupped her ass and speared into the crack of her lips, arrowing through sweet skin and onto her clit.

“Oh yeah,” she said on a moan, her knees giving a little.

He flicked some more, using the flat of his tongue against her sensitive bud. He knew how to make her 1779813_189620004723549_1699793449950599888_ncome in a minute or two like this but he hadn’t yet decided whether to or not. Maybe he’d just get her desperate for it with a fast oral session then toss her onto the bed and feel her come around his cock. God, he loved that, when she was hot and wet, gripping him, spasming around him.

He released her ass and sought her entrance, pushed two fingers in, rejoicing in the tight sweetness that hugged him.

“Flynn…oh, fuck…I’m going to…” She hooked one leg over his shoulder.


No, you’re not.

He continued to work her up but lightened the touch of his tongue. He wanted to keep her hovering.

She ground against him and tugged his hair. Her body was hot, writhing, frantic almost. On and on he teased and pleased. Her juices mixed with the water and the scent of soap swirled around them.

“Ah, fucking hell, Flynn, don’t tease…” She pressed her heel to his back and sank her buttocks onto his cupped hand. “Let me come. He would in a minute. But right now he was enjoying the fact that only this miniscule cubicle, the water and his tongue existed for her.

 lily-harlem

 

About Lily Harlem: 

Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk and a crazy cat. With a desk overlooking rolling hills her over active imagination has been allowed to run wild and free and she revels in using the written word as an outlet for her creativity.

Lily’s stories are made up of colourful characters exploring their sexuality and sensuality in a safe, consensual way. With the bedroom door left wide open the reader can hang on for the ride and Lily hopes by reading sensual romance people will be brave enough to try something new themselves? After all, life’s too short to be anything other than fully satisfied

 

Find Lily Harlem Here:

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/lily_harlem

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lily.harlem

Facebook author page https://www.facebook.com/LilyHarlemAuthor

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

Raw Talent http://rawtalentseries.co.uk

BritBabes http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk

Newsletter Subscription http://www.lilyharlem.com/newsletter-subscription.html

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/106837751333678531161/posts

Harlem Dae http://www.harlemdae.com

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem

 

Vintage Grace: Wet Dreams Part 1 FREE STORY

Writing pen and birds 1_xl_20156020

WARNING! This story contains ADULT CONTENT!

Summer is almost over, but I like to keep the sizzle going as long as possible, keeping that in mind, I thought I’d make this a story sort of weekend and prime you for the next instalment of IN THE FLESH with something really filthy vintage K D Grace. Wet Dreams is one of the first stories I had published and, like a lot of my early stories, WET DREAMS is very filthy and not for the faint of heart. It is erotica … XXX all the way.  As some of you are aware of my attitude about condoms in erotica, especially when it’s very strictly fantasy, be warned, even without a condom, this story is safe sex because IT IS FICTION! Please enjoy it for what it is.

Part 2 will be up next week. 

 

 

Dr. Joe Nevins jerked to wakefulness nearly falling off the control room chair. He yawned, rubbed his burning eyes and returned his attention to the bank of monitors, which were attached to cameras designed for low light and placed strategically about the sleep room. Almost all of the test subjects under the camera’s watchful eye were in REM sleep. The stuff dreams are made of, he thought. He could tell by the EEG of their brain waves and by the rapid movement of their eyes beneath closed lids that they were dreaming. He wished he could join them. The early hours of the morning were always the hardest, the time when he was completely alone, the only waking soul in a world of dreamers, longing to share in their slumbers.

At six thirty in the morning, the alarm would go off; everyone would rise, write down what they remembered of their dreams and return to life in the waking world.

Life in the waking world — not something a sleep researcher saw an awful lot of, Joe thought morosely. Once his subjects left, he reviewed their dream journals, correlated his data and made notes. Then he tried to catch a few hours of REM sleep himself, though it was never enough. When he was working with a test group, he seldom left the facility. It had everything his apartment had, plus state of the art equipment. Hopefully these test subjects and one more batch would give him a large enough sample to prove the validity of his data.

He yawned again and his head fell to his chest. Somehow attempting to study dreams from the waking world seemed fundamentally wrong at this hour. Movement on one of the monitors caught his eye. Subject number three was sitting on the edge of her bed. It wasn’t unusual for subjects to wake in the night. Portable EEGs made it possible for them to visit the bathroom, get a drink of water, or even have a midnight snack in the canteen next door. The facility was designed to allow subjects to emulate their normal sleep patterns.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes again to make sure, but subject number three was definitely standing by the side of her bed unbuttoning her nightie. He nearly fell off his chair as the woman, who looked to be in her late twenties with short dark hair and lovely cheekbones, shoved the nightie off her shoulders and began to caress her breasts. They were small firm breasts with large dark nipples, growing larger as she rolled them between her thumbs and forefingers.

Her EEG seemed to be malfunctioning, but adjusting its monitor didn’t help. He switched on the microphone, allowing him to hear sounds coming from the sleep room. There was the usual mix of deep breathing and light snoring along with the soft moans of subject three. One hand left the caressing of her breasts and snaked down her belly to shove aside the nightie. With little grunts of frustration, she wriggled out of miniscule panties, and her hand went to work between her legs.

There were no sleep disorders among the test subjects, he’d made certain of that. Surely the woman was awake. But another glance at the EEG proved inconclusive. The front of Joe’s trousers pressed hard against his expanding cock. Damn it! He wasn’t a sex crazed teenager jacking off to women’s underwear ads. He was a scientist doing important research, research that could improve people’s lives, research that could…

Suddenly Subject Three slipped under the blankets with the woman in the next bed. Joe held his breath.

“What the? What’s going …,” subject four mumbled, waking up.

Three stopped her words with a deep kiss involving plenty of tongue. For a tense second, Joe feared the two women would wake up the rest of his subjects, but as Three pulled away, she placed a silencing finger to her lips. Four seemed happy to comply. Three’s EEG was completely off line now, yet everyone else’s was functioning perfectly.

She pushed up Four’s night shirt to reveal large breasts, expansive areole rising and falling with the woman’s accelerated breathing. Then she suckled and kneaded her way into Four’s deep cleavage, flicking a pink tongue over the contours like a cat licking a kitten.

Joe fumbled with the controls, zooming in on Three’s tongue, on Four’s heavy breasts, on Three’s hand slipping into Four’s panties.

“Come for me,” Three whispered as she pulled away from Four’s engorged nipple to kiss her ear. “Please come for me.” Then there was only the sound of heavy breathing and muffled moans. And the sound of a zipper.

dark moon image_xl_6338206It took Joe a second to realize the zipper was that of his own fly, which he had opened to give his expanding cock some relief. Easing his penis free, he stifled a groan as his fingers closed around his growing girth. My God, he really was like a teenager.

“Let me see you. Let me look at you down there.” Three pealed the panties over Four’s full hips and ample buttocks. This time, Joe got the zoom just right. Four’s vulva filled the monitor as she shifted, opening her legs to reveal a well trimmed pubis with thick, swollen lips, open and responsive to Three’s exploring fingers. Three whimpered softly, then lowered her head. And suddenly it was Three’s vulva and her whole heart-shaped bottom that filled the monitor as she positioned herself on hands and knees, nightie shoved high over her hips, ass raised like a bitch in heat. She licked Four’s cunt in long lingering slurps, pausing to suckle and nip at her clit.

Joe watched in fascination as Three wriggle two deft fingers into her own swollen slit, and the wet, slippery sounds of pleasure filled the sleep room. With each stroke of his cock, he imagined his erection replacing Three’s fingers, thrusting in and out of that exquisite grip. The weight of his engorged balls shifted heavily in the cupping caress of one hand. This was so wrong. But the thought of his bad behavior only served to make his cock stiffer, make him pump even harder, until his muscles ached and tensed, and his buttocks clenched tighter with each thrust.

Orgasm began as a ripple up Four’s body. The ripple erupted into a spasm, and Four gasped and bucked against Three’s insinuating tongue, struggling not to wake the other sleepers. Then Three gave a little sigh and collapsed on top of her, Four’s moisture still glistening on her mouth and chin. “You came?” She whispered, stroking Four’s nipples.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad.” She kissed the other woman’s breasts in turn then went to her own bed, stopping to slip into her panties, giving Joe one last glistening view of her cunt.

He awoke, cock in hand, with just enough time to pull out his handkerchief before he squirted it full. He thought he’d never stop coming, his cock convulsing again and again into soft white cotton. As the pheromonal tang of ejaculate and male sweat displaced the disinfectant smell of the control room, he collapsed in the chair feeling a strange combination of confusion and post coital drowsiness. What the hell happened?

A quick look at the monitor and the perfectly functioning EEG revealed that both women were in their own beds, both in REM sleep. A glance at the clock told him he had only just dozed briefly, and yet it had been enough for him to dream vividly, extricate his cock from his trousers and come. How could this be? He knew he was under slept, but even when he wasn’t, he seldom remembered his dreams. Strange that, considering he made his living studying dreams.

 

Dream Journal

Subject # 3

February 18

I’m with a woman I don’t know. We are admiring each other’s tits. Hers are big and heavy. She agrees to let me touch
hers if she can touch mine. Then we’re at my house, in my bed. We take off our tops. She’s wearing a black lace bra that caresses and cups her deep cleavage. She lets me take it off her. I’m astounded at how full she is, how swollen her nipples are. I’m sucking her like she’s somebody’s yummy mummy, whose engorged titties need to be nursed on. Her hand is in my panties fingering my fat, slippery cunt. Just when it’s getting good, we realize there’s a man watching us. He’s stroking his cock hard, about to ejaculate.

Then I’m in a park walking. I see a woman sitting on a bench masturbating. She has her skirt up. I can see her pussy. It’s such a beautiful pussy, it’s nice and hairy — I like hairy cunts — with big dark lips all wet and pouting. She’s crying. I ask her what’s wrong. She says she needs to come so badly that her pussy hurts. She asks me if I’ll help her. Then we’re lying on the grass and I’m licking her pussy. She’s sweet and salty and so turned on that her tight quinny kisses me back while I tongue her. She’s moaning and bucking against my mouth, telling me she’s about to come. My own pussy aches too, and I’m suddenly desperate to orgasm.

The man is watching us again. It’s like he’s everywhere. He sees everything. He has his cock out, and his balls are so full. I want to watch him, I want him to watch me, so I start playing with my own cunt, while I lick. He pumps his cock harder and harder until it erupts like a fountain, and he keeps coming and coming, like he’ll never stop.

I woke up feeling horny.

 

Breathing hard, Joe put down the journal and quick-stepped to the bathroom in the back of his office. Standing over the toilet, he fumbled with his fly, feeling a quiver down his spine at the freeing of his cock. In one hand he cupped balls that felt like they were loaded with lead and with the other, he stroked the thick length of his erection hard and fast, only a half a dozen strokes or so. That was all he needed after reading Three’s journal. There was no making it last. He came in great shuddering spasms, grunting hard with the intensity of his release.

When he could breathe again, when his balls were well emptied and his cock was more manageable, he tucked himself in and went back to work. Dream journals were confidential. The subjects were asked to write in present tense with no comments. At the end of each entry, they wrote a sentence or two about how they felt that morning. Before now none of the dreams had been blatantly sexual. There were the expected scenarios of being caught in the office naked, or being caught taking a dump in public. But Joe knew that people in general weren’t very good at telling the truth. Three was brave to be so honest.

A look at subject four’s journal revealed only a short ‘late for work’ dream.

Nothing had happened between the two women. The EEGs were proof. Yet how could Three’s dream be so similar to his?

From the files, he looked through the extensive questionnaire Three had filled out her first day. There was nothing out Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_bof the ordinary. In fact he had chosen subjects particularly for their normal sleep patterns. A look at Three’s EEGs revealed normal REM sleep cycles, as he would have expected. That meant the only person with unusual sleep patterns was him.

He half hoped that when he made it to bed mid afternoon, he’d dream about Three again. Normally he didn’t want to know his subjects’ names. The less he knew the better. Still he couldn’t help thinking it would be nice to call her name in his dreams just before he made her come, just before he came inside her. But he hadn’t managed to get to sleep that afternoon. There was too much to do.

Tune in for the conclusion of Wet Dreams next week!

Sommer Marsden Tells Us What Happens on Page 237, Or Not

I’m elated to have the totally yummy Sommer Marsden as my guest today. Sommer’s on a blog tour to promote her sizzling new paranormal novel, Big Bad.  And to celebrate the release of Big Bad, Sommer is giving away a copy of this fab new novel to a lucky commenter.

Welcome, Sommer! I can’t wait to find out what happens on page 237!

And on page 237 they will…

Yeah, see that’s not me. The plotter, the planner, the index card holder. See that title up there? You will never hear me say that. Which is why it can be terrifying writing something like paranormal. I swore I’d never do it for reasons just like that.

If I’m on page 237…I might know what happens on page 238. I might not. I tend to fly by the seat of my pants and blindly follow characters wherever they  go. Down dark alleys, into houses that are currently being stalked by bad guys, down a long dark highway to another state in the rain. I fall in love with them, sometimes when it’s a good idea, and sometimes when it’s not. Sometimes with more than one person. I just…follow.

See, they are very much in charge. Not me. Imagine if you will, the quiet court reporter in the corner, slowly but surely taking down everything that happens as it happens—in shorthand (in my world shorthand=typos…heh). That is me! I am the court reporter.

Which is why you will NOT find world building in my paranormal. You might find a reality with…accessories? Something that is pretty much real life but a smidge left of center. I write men (or women) who just happen to be able to turn into wolves. The way I happen to be able to remember pretty much every single lyric to every song I’ve ever sat to listen to. I write shifters who have shifting ingrained in their history the way Native American or Scottish is ingrained in mine. People who inadvertently become psychic. Like dropping an ice cream cone on the sidewalk. And hey, as far as past lives, I’ve done my share of research and talked to my share of people—but that was out of sheer interest. It just happened to crop up in my book through no fault of my own.

Basically, I do what they tell me. I sit in the corner in my little skirt and nerd glasses with my hair in a bun (okay, leggings, big socks, funky tees and possibly a messy bed head hair twist) and do as told.

And I never know what is going to happen on page 237 for sure until page 237. When I feel that nervous ‘oh no! what happens next!?” I usually go take a long hot shower or a long wiener walk with the dachshund and the characters tell me. Ellis and Ruby and Tyler were known to whisper to me while I was washing my hair or doing dishes or walking my wiener. And they usually only gave up little snippets of info. Mostly, I had to sit down, shut up and take notes.

I don’t build worlds. It’s not my deal. I leave that to the pros who can spin entire worlds out of nothing but gossamer and lace. Me, I write about people who are somewhat accidentally special and then I listen to what they have to say. They always know what’s going to happen on page 237…they just take their sweet time tellin

Blurb

Lust according to Ruby:

You read those books where they explain it all away. They make it fine with rationalization. But what if I just want to? What if that’s my whole reason? My life is not a romance novel. I don’t need justification. I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants.

I want Ellis. And I want Tyler.

And I won’t apologize…

What’s worse than wanting both your best friend who’s a vampire and the just-back-in-town alpha werewolf you find yourself fixated on? Finding out that the werewolf in question wants you, too. But he isn’t too keen on the sharing part. Oh, and by the way, you’re his dead mate.

Okay, okay, dead is harsh—reincarnated.

What’s worse than that? Realizing that you believe the whole crazy tale of reincarnation. Because it seems to be true.

And yet you still want them both—together. Vampire and werewolf and you in the middle. Stuck between two predators who want you and only you. To complicate it all, you find out that you can have it. With your new/old mate’s blessing. But just one time before he claims you as his.

Are you brave enough to take it? That one shot?

Well…Are you?

Excerpt from BIG BAD:

I didn’t want to talk about him being mine or me being his. Or the feeling I got in the pit of my stomach when he said stuff like that. The feeling was akin to peace and security.

“Can I get you a dri—“

I never got the sentence out because he pinned me to the wall outside my small bedroom and kissed me. The kiss was the kind that left no room for talking. His tongue tangled with mine until I felt the wet intensity of his kiss all the way in my pussy. My ears thrummed with my pulse, his shirt was soft under my fingers, his chest hard.

“Back up or it’s right here in the hallway.” Ellis growled.

I walked back as he guided me and finally the bed hit the back of my knees and I folded myself down onto the mattress. Ellis covered me, pinning my hands at my sides with his much bigger ones. His belly pressed to mine, his cock hard against the split of my pussy. I wiggled just to feel the pressure of him through my jeans.

“Christ, don’t do that. I’ll come in my pants like a young wolf,” he laughed. His teeth flashed in the low light of my bedroom—nothing but a golden nightlight lit the periphery.

“I’ve never seen you change. Can I?” Now that it was in my head, I wanted it. I wanted to see him in wolf form, run my fingers through his fur. Possibly other things. But I didn’t think that and I certainly wouldn’t say it. I simply acknowledged that I wanted to experience Ellis in all his natural forms.

“One day.” He rose and shimmied out of his clothes. Slowly. I watched the flex and roll of each hard muscle. The flat of his belly exposed one button at a time. He peeled off his boxer briefs and chuckled at my attentive gaze. “You make me feel like I should have dollar bills sticking out of my waistband.”

I blinked and then caught his joke. “Oh, how rude. I do have some singles. Would you like a tip, sexy boy? Shake your money maker.”

He didn’t flinch, but he didn’t smile either. “Take off the clothes, toots. We’re going to do it right this time.”

“We did it wrong last time?”

“Let me help you,” he said and his voice was so low the fine hairs in my ears felt ticklish trying to make out his words.

His fingers tugged at my black top and then my bra. Naked from the waist up, I tried to focus on breathing. He was perfect and sexy and looked so fucking serious my body buzzed with nerves. “I can—“

“Hush, Ruby.” His lips found my breast and his tongue did lazy tours of each one before his teeth found first one nipple, then the other. I felt the tug and thump of my arousal in my cunt. I touched him, just to feel how warm he was. How hard he was. And prove to myself that Ellis Bach was real.

He dropped small light kisses from my breastbone to my belly button and his fingers worked the button of my jeans with ease. “Up,” he said and I thrust my hips up so he could snag my jeans and panties and pull them down. I kicked off my boots so the jeans could come off and Ellis peeled off my over-the-knee socks.

“I’m like a trained dog,” I joked, my voice shaky with emotion.

“You are no such thing. But I like dogs,” he said. “A close relative of yours truly.” His laugh rumbled through him and vibrated into me as he kissed the sides of my thighs and the backs of my knees. I gave a small squeak and the laugh grew deeper. “Ticklish?”

“Yes. Will you change?” I blurted. I hadn’t even known I was going to say until it was out. But I barreled on, fueled by false bravery. “Will you? Please. Change for me, I want to see you.”

“Soon,” he said, licking my hipbone gently. “Not this time.”

Remember to leave a comment and you’ll have a chance to win a copy of sizzling eBook copy of Big Bad, then find out what’s on pate 237 for yourself!

Warnings: This title contains graphic sex and language, spanking, m/f/m sex, multiple partners.

 

Buy link for BIG BAD by Sommer Marsden from Excessica (also on Kindle, at ARe, Bookstrand, Smashwords and more):

http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=22&products_id=463&zenid=d01ee27908400fa90dea4bdce8c1fb87