The Boss – Enemies to lovers short story

ghosted erotic

 

I leant back in my chair and sighed loudly. The sound of his name brought out my inner bitch, and she was pissed off.

It was another meeting with the man who swaggered around like he was god’s gift to business and women. From the moment I’d met him, I knew he’d find ways to make my life hard. I tried to be polite, and then I avoided him, but he always found a way to get under my skin with his loud northern accent and his affinity to make everyone around him laugh in genuine amusement. I could understand if it was only women that hung on his word. Since the day he’d strode into the office, tossed his jacket on the chair, and rolled up his sleeves, the office women had been mesmerised, and when the CEO announced him as the guy who’d taken over the company, the women wanted him more. Was it because he had the power to make them do whatever he wanted?

The men adored him as well. He talked with enthusiasm about sports, joked with them at the annual barbecue and let everyone try his top-shelf alcohol.

But I hated the guy. Why? Because he repeatedly found ways to make my job difficult. My sales figures were never enough. Maybe the others liked being pushed to be better, but I think he needed to learn to manage his expectations. He’d cut my department twice in the two years since he’d started, and he’d forced me to let go of some people who’d given a lot to the company. His demands were relentless, and he never apologised. But I hated him because even with all that, I spent my nights naked and sweaty, imagining what he could do to me if I asked him to.

Had I imagined the way he glanced at my legs when I wore my tight shift dress? It was a favourite for the office because it gave me a bad boss energy. The day I bent over his desk to point out that I was hitting every target every week, I swore he shifted himself in his chair a little. I won’t deny that I hadn’t expected to reveal so much of my chest or that my lacy bra’s lace might have been on show. The dark, almost hungry look he’d given me as I’d turned to glare at him before I’d left the office had helped me finger myself to orgasm several times that night.

That didn’t stop me hating him, though or regretting dressing more provocatively than I intended that day. I hadn’t expected him to be in the office. There was no meeting on the calendar. But when he’d called his PA to demand we meet with less than five minutes notice, every sales and account manager had run to the board room for fear of being on his shit list.

The provocative outfit wasn’t that bad. The air conditioner in my open-plan office was broken, and maintenance was waiting for a critical part. The day before, I’d come home dripping with sweat and ready to punch anyone who commented on it. I had no other option but to wear my short cotton dress with the low front and slits up the side. It wasn’t until I was sat in the board room, legs crossed, that I realised the slits revealed my entire thigh, exposing nearly to my knickers.

“Don’t be a prick, Jeff,” he said down the phone with a growl that reminded me of my fantasy about him from the night before. I pulled at the hem of my dress with trembling hands as I remembered my dream of his hands gripping my hips as he fucked me over the arm of my sofa. I hadn’t even needed my vibrator last night with that image, and I’d come within ten minutes of getting home after having him shout down the phone at me earlier that day. At least in my fantasies, I was in control, something I couldn’t imagine would happen if we hooked up. Not that I’d let that happen.

He glanced around the room at each of us. Did he see us as his minions? I knew from the way several of my colleagues licked their lips that they’d happily do whatever he wanted them to if he just said the words. At eleven o’clock every day, all the women from accounts would share a look he’d given them or a comment he’d shared that had convinced them he wanted them.

His eyes paused briefly on me at the unfortunate moment I was trying to yank down my dress, which only made the low V of the front dip even more. I covered myself as a boob threatened to pop out.

He raised an eyebrow momentarily before continuing his inspection of his team.

How dare he raise his eyebrow at me. How could I hate him and yet imagine him bending me over my desk at the same time?

He made each of us share our figures for that week, and then he quizzed us on what our plans for the year were. I flicked through my notes, desperately trying to think of something innovative to say, but I had nothing to add.

He tipped his head in my direction, which was his way of demanding I go to the front and face his bullshit. I closed my eyes as I stood to stop me rolling my eyes. I didn’t understand why we had to go to the front; it wasn’t fucking school.

With his back to everyone else, his gaze ran across my body. I fought the temptation to nibble my lip. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Go on,” he said before licking his lips.

His bold attitude froze me to the spot. Usually, I’d give as good as I got but the deep timbre of his voice combined with the look of lust I swore he was giving me left me speechless. It was as if my fantasy was teasing me again, and I could hear the same deep timbre in my head whispering the dirtiest commands to me.

“Today, please,” he added, causing wetness to pool in my knickers. I fumbled with my papers. He licked his lips which had transformed into a grin. To everyone else, it looked like I was struggling with his request, but he knew that’s not what was happening. Fucking bastard.

My anger propelled my words forward, and I gave an excellent presentation considering I hadn’t had any time to prepare and that I was fighting arousal that made my skin prickle with heat.

When I finished, he didn’t quiz me like he had everyone else. Instead, he tilted his head, gave me one last look and nodded my dismissal. I could have killed him in that second, but instead, I purposely dropped my folder next to him and whispered “dickhead” in his ear as I bent down to pick it up.

His chuckle surprised me. I’d never insulted a boss before to his face, especially not the owner of the company who could call for my immediate dismissal, but he brought out my fire.

I strode away and slumped in my chair, unsure if I wanted to punch him or fuck him. The rest of the presentations were a blur. I was only conscious of the back of his head and the occasional movement he gave in his chair. He wasn’t wriggling, but it was as if he suddenly couldn’t keep still.

Suddenly he turned. “Not bad. Not great, but not bad. Some of you need to work on your plans for the year, and a couple of you need to start managing your fucking teams. Now get back to work.” Each of us got to our feet and collected our stuff. I smoothed down my dress for good measure. “Except you.”

I looked up, wondering which sucker was on his shit list now.

He was looking right at me. Of course he was. Fuck.

“You can stay with me. We need to talk about your work.”

I’d avoided being alone in a room with him since the incident in his office. I wasn’t scared of what he’d do to me, but I was scared of what I wanted to do to him. Punch or fuck were the two highest things on my list.

“Lucky, bitch,” one of the accounting team whispered in my ear as she slipped past me on her way to the door.

He pointed to the chair next to him, and I slowly walked and sat while the room emptied. There was no point arguing with the boss.

“First, I want to say that you’re working well, and I am impressed with the plans you laid out,” he said slowly with a hint of admiration in his voice.

“Are you serious?”

That question got me a glare. He didn’t like questions that didn’t need to be asked.

I crossed my legs and marvelled at the way his gaze climbed up my thighs. If asked, I would have denied my actions, but I’d done it to tease him. Hearing his compliment gave me a funny kind of confidence.

“Secondly, I’d appreciate it if you wore something more demure to work next time,” he said, shifting his trousers.

I grinned, knowing I had him where I wanted him for the first time. “You’re not allowed to ask that,” I replied, leaning forward so that the low V of my dress hung lower.

“I believe I am,” he said as he closed his eyes. Was he so desperate to look down the front of my dress that he’d had to close his eyes? My hornyness latched on to my need to repay how angry he’d made me in the past. I wanted power over him.

“See, the thing is,” I replied as I waited for his eyes to open again. “The air con in my office is broken, and we are in the middle of a heatwave. If you would prefer me to be a sweaty mess, then I can wear something different.” I readjusted my seat position, crossing my legs slower this time before raising my arms high in a fake stretch. At his angle, I realised that it looked like I had no knickers on. His eyes darkened as they returned to my thigh. “I will do whatever you want. The decision is yours, boss. Now, if you don’t mind, I have targets to hit.”

I sashayed towards the door. I revelled in my confidence and hoped he was watching my arse as I walked away.

“I didn’t say you could go,” he grunted. That’s when I knew I had him.

I turned, finding him standing behind me. For a second, he stared at my eyes, waiting for consent. I let my lip slip between my teeth before replying, “Go on then, I dare you.”

Like lightning crackling out of nowhere, he exploded. He pushed me against the wall, pinning my hands above my head with one hand. The other moved slowly down my body, across my breasts, pausing to grab my hip before moving lower. His erection was hard against my body, and I rubbed myself against him.

His hand was coarser than I expected as it slipped below the hem of my dress. I opened my legs for him, and his palm brushed between my thighs. He kissed my neck, giving the slightest bite before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Everything trembled as he fingered the hem of my knickers before slipping beneath and grazing my skin. I jumped at the contact. It was the barest touch but felt so good.

“You were wearing underwear. I’m a little disappointed,” he growled in my ear as I wriggled against his finger. “I love it when a woman goes commando; it makes me want to fuck her hard.”

My whimper surprised both of us.

His laugh was as deep as his growl, and it filled every inch of my body, making me breathe deeply. He smelt woody yet musky, and I longed for his scent to brand my skin.

The tip of his finger was suddenly on my clit, and I ground myself against him wanting more. My hands were still pinned within his grasp, and I moved as if controlled by an invisible power pushing myself against him as he held me in place. I was out of control as I writhed against his finger.

“Maybe you should remove my knickers,” I groaned back.

He let out a deep sigh, and his body shuddered against mine. “Good idea. Lift your hem for me, gorgeous,” he released my hands and dropped down to his knees. My head fell back, only held up by the wall, and I gripped the hem of my dress with both my hands revealing my covered pussy to him.

He sucked my clit through my knickers, sending a shot of arousal to my core. The ache in my belly that had demanded satisfaction all morning seemed to grow and burn with pure need.

Slowly he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of my lacy black knickers before dragging them down my legs. My pussy was exposed to him. The heat inside me was at odds with the cool air between my thighs.

I lifted my legs to step out of my knickers and watched as he slipped them in the pocket of his chinos. He winked at me in a way that made me blush. He ran his hands up and down my legs, never reaching my pussy, before blowing cool air on my wet clit, cooling the air and making me revel in unexpected tingles that crisscrossed my body.

Even when I tried to be in control, he turned me into a mess.

He kissed up my legs, pushing them further apart as he got higher. He gripped one thigh tightly with his hand. The slightest sensation of pain turned me on, and I couldn’t fathom why. I didn’t care. I wanted more of him. His skin was hot against mine, and I wondered what it would be like to straddle him and have his skin against my inner thighs as I rode him.

That we were in a boardroom, and anyone could come down the corridor and see us barely registered in my head. I wanted any part of him that he would give me.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years. Every time I considered it, I knew it would be the stupidest decision I ever made,” he said before swapping to my other leg and caressing it with his lips. As soon as he got to my pussy, I knew I wouldn’t be able to make coherent words, let alone sentences.

“Why now?” I whimpered as his kisses climbed higher.

“I couldn’t think of anything else. I didn’t even need to be here today, but I had to see you. Thank fuck for broken air conditioning.”

It wasn’t the sexiest line I’d ever heard, but the way he said fuck before sucking hard on my clit made me wobble so hard he had to grab my hips to stop me from falling. With a flat tongue, he licked up my pussy in one stroke. I managed to look down for the briefest moment. He looked back at me, his lips wet from my juices.

The most powerful man I’d ever met was on his knees and bringing me pleasure that went beyond every fantasy. His tongue was rough against my pussy. My body shook as he feasted on me. His fingers gripped me tightly as he licked and sucked. I held my cries in, but I desperately wanted to scream his name.

With the tip of his tongue, he made circles across my clit before he pushed it inside me. I bit my finger to stop the shouts that were desperately trying to flee my mouth. His tongue continued to thrust inside me. My body shook, and I closed my eyes, revelling in every sensation. I rocked against his mouth as he continued to push his tongue inside me, relentlessly giving me something I’d been missing on my own.

“Fucking hell, you’re the sexiest and sassiest woman,” he said suddenly as he pulled away and sat back on his heels. Even the slightest touch he gave me was enough to make the wetness touch my thighs. Occasionally he lent forward to run his knuckles between my thighs or give me a playful lick. “Play with yourself for me.”

I reached down and slid my fingertip across my clit. It was wetter than I expected, but I had enough friction to bring the familiar arousal that my touch gave me. He watched with a satisfied smile on his face. I slid a finger inside me, but it wasn’t enough because I wanted him.

My brow furrowed as I tried to get the release I desperately needed. It was like there was a raging battle in front of me, and I couldn’t win; however hard I tried.

“You’re not going to cum for me?” he asked.

“I can’t,” I replied. It wasn’t a whine, but it could have been. I was desperate for an orgasm.

“How about now?” he asked as he stood up and slid two fingers inside me. He pumped me hard as I continued to rub my clit. The combination of him and I together made my arousal somersault throughout my body. The burning in my belly had transformed into a fire that nothing could put out. I squeezed my thighs to make him pump quicker and harder. “Cum for me,” he growled in my ear. “If you do it now, I’ll take you for dinner tonight and then fuck you hard on the balcony of my apartment so that everyone can see how fucking delicious you are. Cum for me.”

Stars exploded, and I came close to blacking out. I held my breath as I crossed into an earth-shattering climax. He pressed a hand over my mouth so that I could scream against him. I pushed myself into the wall as every limb clenched before releasing. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to bend me over a balcony and fuck me from behind. He kissed and sucked on my neck as I came apart against him. My body turned to jelly as my orgasm ripped through me. I panted hard as he took his hand off my mouth. His shit-eating grin made me laugh and want to punch him. Even as he sucked his fingers, the smile didn’t leave his face. Slowly I came down from my high, my energy gone and satisfaction my reward.

“Best day at work I’ve ever had,” he said with a chuckle as he smoothed my dress down. As I struggled to stand by myself, he grabbed my hip. “You okay?”

“I’m fucking awesome,” I laughed. “Best meeting I’ve had with you, but not my best day at work.”

“The day isn’t over yet, gorgeous,” he replied with a wink that made my legs tremble, much to my annoyance. I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the effect he had on me. I was now in the boss’ fan club, but I wasn’t going to let him know that.

“Maybe catch you later,” I said as I walked shakily to the papers that I hadn’t remembered dropping on the floor.

He grabbed me and kissed me hard on the mouth, making me quiver again. “I’ll pick you up at five.” There was a hint of a question. Maybe he wasn’t as self-assured as he appeared. I kissed him back just as fierce and walked him back towards the wall. We made out like teenagers. I grabbed and pulled at his shirt as his hands kneaded my bum beneath my dress. His chino covered erection rubbed against my pussy, and at the friction, I ground myself against him.

I leant back breathless. “If you insist, lovely,” I replied before giving him one last peck and leaving the room, my papers forgotten.

 

Smutathon 2020 – Cheerleader

Smutathon is today! The aim this year is to raise money for Endometriosis UK. Smutathon is when erotica writers , sex bloggers and adult educators write something smutty for good causes. Endometriosis is a condition where tissue similar to the lining of the womb starts to grow in other places, such as the ovaries and fallopian tubes. It can be extremely painful and debilitating. It’s also a widely misunderstood condition.

You can donate here and read some lovely erotica here.

When one of my friend’s told me that this week she’s been diagnosed with endometriosis I knew that it was time to get writing. What was my prompt? This particular friend calls me her cheerleader, based on some life coaching we had at work. Your cheerleader is someone who supports you and cheers you on in your life. I started with the word cheerleader and here is what happened. Note – one quick story with no editing.

Cheerleader

“Go on show me,” Greg shouted from outside the bedroom door.

“I look stupid,” Kate replied, turning to the side before shaking her head and turning back to face the mirror. Pop tunes from her university clubbing days played in the background. Maybe they’ll get me pumped for tonight.

She shrugged at the black and red cheerleading dress. It was so tight it could have been painted on. The outfit started at her shoulders, creating a deep vee at her bust before travelling down and then the dress pleated at her upper thighs. Kate turned quickly making the skirt part of her dress flutter in the air. A flash of red caught her eye. Why hadn’t Greg’s sister, Jan, told her it was a fancy-dress hen do before she’d agreed to go? The regulation cheerleader costume was indecent. Even the red pants that were a little bigger than knickers and supposed to reduce the flesh on show had “sexy bum” written on the back.

“I bet you look stunning. Let me in. I’ll massage your ego,” Greg said before dropping his voice in a way that made her subconsciously clench her thighs. “I’ll massage other things too.”

She’d never normally wear something like this. It wasn’t that she was against a bit of skin showing, but Saturday nights in town were a thing of her past. Greg was the only one who saw her dressing sexily these days. And I’m scared what they’d say about me and my body. Jan didn’t care what people thought about her. Her main aim was to be herself and have a good time doing it. She’d probably accessorise her cheerleader costume with a flashing penis headband and a giant inflatable cock. Maybe I should be more like her.

Kate opened the door, and Greg let out a long whistle. “Fuck me, honey. You look amazing.”

She shook her head again, forcing her high ponytail to bounce in the air. “I’m going to look ridiculous compared to the other hens. All of your sister’s friends are hot.”

“You’re hot,” he pulled her towards the mirror and eased her in front of him. “When I look at you, I know I’m the luckiest man in the world. I got to marry you. You could have chosen anyone, but that day you asked me out at the office Christmas party I knew I would do anything to call you my wife one day.”

Kate returned his gaze in the mirror. He’d said this to her before. She’d been so drunk at that party that she’d finally advanced on him, her crush for two years, and shouted out her request. Her friends had egged her on all night, and eight gins later she’d declared her interest. Now they were married, and they were building up to another wedding. Jan’s was going to be epic, but before that, there was a hen party to get through.

Greg bent down and pulled up one of her black and white stripey socks, securing it above her knee. His lips brushed her thigh briefly before he pulled up the other one. This time his kisses climbed higher. He paused at the edge of her cheerleader pants.

“Hmmm, ‘sexy bum’. I couldn’t say it better myself,” he said hungrily before giving her bum cheek a little bite through her pants.

“I’m nervous about tonight,” she confessed. Greg stood quickly and grabbed her hips, squeezing gently. She rocked her pelvis gently against him. “I don’t know how I’m going to cope with all those women and their excitement.”

“I know, honey. But whenever you want to come home, call me and I will be there.” He planted kisses against her neck. One of his hands dropped lower before slipping under her pleats. Kate held her breath. “And I’ll send you messages all through the night of what I’m going to do when I pick you up. Maybe I need to get you more excited too so that you rival them.”

“Please,” she released it like a breath of longing. Beyonce’s ‘Drunk in Love’ came on her playlist. How many times had they had sex to that song?

He dragged his nails up the inside of her thigh. Kate made a bleating noise that in public would have embarrassed her. He loved that noise.  

“Or I could give you a taster of what will happen now,” he said between kisses.

He brushed his hand across her pants. Kate grabbed it as he tried to withdraw it and held it against her. “You’re very hot, sweetie.”

Their marriage was often a game of teasing. Their weekends were spent pushing the boundaries of patience and toying with each other’s wants. Tonight wasn’t the first time she’d dressed up in front of him, although the outfits she wore were usually a little more risqué.  

He massaged her pussy through her pants, running lazy circles with his thumb against her heat as he met her gaze in the mirror.

“Don’t stop,” she mouthed. Greg slipped his hand inside her cheerleader pants, and she gasped when she felt the skin on skin contact.

“I love it when you’re wet for me,” he stated before rubbing her clit. He worked faster this time. His finger was rough, and she moaned at the friction. “Tonight, when I pick you up, I’m going to do this to you in the alleyway next to the club. I’m going to stand you in front of the security camera and put a show on for the security guards who will check the footage. How do you feel about that?”

Although anxious about showing her skin, he knew there was one time she was happy to perform. She insisted on exhibitionism when she was drunk and horny. He usually stopped her in anticipation of her embarrassment when sober, but a couple of times she’d gone down on him in car parks in nearby cities and once when camping they’d sneaked to the beach at midnight and fucked quickly. The sand in awkward places had been worth it for the rush. She hadn’t regretted any of their experiences, and they’d talked the other night about pushing the boundaries. But sex near their home with people they knew in the building was something new.

“Do you like the sound of that?” he asked as he eased a finger inside her. She moaned quietly. His smile was against her neck as he kissed her again. What did they say about men? That they couldn’t multi-task? Thank god that was an old wives’ tale.

He pumped his finger inside her a couple of times. She wriggled, but he reached his other hand into her bra and squeezed her breast, holding her tightly against him. He was as horny as her, and his erection pushed into her back.

“You know we’ve only got a couple of minutes before the cheerleader taxi arrives. I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to make you come,” he growled. “You might have to spend the night horny and soaking wet.”

She knew he was right. In this position, she usually struggled to orgasm, but it didn’t stop her opening her legs wider.

“Then I guess you’d better hurry up,” she replied, a Cheshire cat smile across her face.

He squeezed her hard nipple between his fingers, causing her to shout out.

He laughed so deeply behind her that her stomach flipped. His cock pulsed against her arse, and she writhed against him. If she was going to spend the evening worked up, then so was he. “I’m going to make you cum so hard in front of those cameras tonight. Your mouth will be in the perfect O shape as I slip my cock inside you.”

The dirty beat of the music was a soundtrack to her moans, and her musky scent filled the air around them.

His fingers pumped quicker as if he was responding to her haste. Greg’s kisses against her neck became little sucks and bites. Was he marking her as his and warning off other guys tonight? She smiled at the idea. With each passing second, her need for release grew, and she moved her body in rhythm with his fingers willing her climax closer. She was panting his name now. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she splayed her hands against the cold glass of the mirror.

“Everyone is going to see me fuck you,” he growled as she ground against his fingers.

“All the men are going to want you tonight.” He grunted loudly. She’d avoided kissing him for fear of smearing her makeup. But I don’t care anymore. She turned to feast on him, something that would help her closer to the edge if not over it.

Her orgasm was so close. One more minute was all she needed. The song filled her limbs, and her arms started to tremble in anticipation. She could go on her night out satisfied.

The doorbell rang as her phone bleeped with a flurry of messages. Women screamed outside the front door.

“Fucking hell,” she screamed in annoyance.

Time was up, but the night had just begun.

Last Night a DJ Saved My Life

Grace wakes up in the home of her favourite radio presenter.

Don’t forget to read part 1 first, you can find it here: Part 1

Last Night a DJ Saved My Life

The bang of a door dragged me from my sleep.

“Oh, God, no,” I grunted. It was like a gang of bikers swinging metal chains were at a rock concert inside my head. I tried to swallow, but my tongue was thick and dry against the roof of my mouth. Please, I need water. Maybe Brian had done the thing he never did and left me a glass.

Suddenly everything came rushing back to me. There was no Brian in my life or job or apartment. Where am I? Had I gone home with the Aussie barman? No, he was gay, I think. I had propositioned him, though. I rubbed my face with my palms. Did I return to university and sleep with an eighteen-year-old? I’d never live it down. Oh shit, they’re going to call me a cougar, or worse. I groaned louder.

Slowly I opened my eyes, scared where I’d find myself in. Crisp cotton bedding that was as soft as a cloud on my hanging head and blinds that hid a window stretching from the ceiling to the floor made me gasp. I was in George’s bed. A safe space. When we were younger, I used to sleep next to him at all the parties, and we were always platonic. But we weren’t young anymore. I eyed the space next to me, but it was untouched. Where had he slept?

On top of the round bedside table was two full glasses of water and paracetamol. George knew me too well. I gulped down the pills and both drinks before flopping my head back on the pillow. I pulled the duvet up to my nose and breathed in the mixture of vanilla and grapefruit. He always smelt so good. Even his scent on the bedding made my headache better.

Snippets of last night returned like a haunting. I’d propositioned the barman and asked George if I could see his cock. For fuck’s sake. I buried my head beneath the covers.

A soft knock came from the door. What time was it? Lectures started today, and uni was a train ride away. I tried to distinguish outside noises to give me a hint at what time of day it might be, but his windows muffled the sounds of London. How many women had slept in this bed, waking up to his warm body beside them? Did he wake them by stroking between their legs and caressing them gently or did he pin their hands above them and lick down their bodies before thrusting inside them? My body seared as he knocked again. Fantasies about your best friend weren’t allowed.

“Come in,” I replied sheepishly from underneath the duvet.

“Only if you’re decent,” he replied. I pulled the duvet back to see what I was wearing. Shit. When did I take my dress off? It had to be in the night. I wouldn’t have done it in front of George. We’d had some boundaries even when we were younger. So why can’t you remember what you did? And why are you hoping he removed it?

I hid back under the duvet now desperate for answers.

“I’ve hidden my decency for now, but I’m going to need answers. Come in.” He strode straight to the windows and pulled back the curtains. Daylight forced its way inside the bedroom, and I sunk deeper into the bed.

“Not feeling your best?” he smirked as the sunshine burnt my retinas.

I peaked out from beneath the duvet and marvelled how good he looked in comparison to my slummy self. His long-sleeved baseball shirt was tight enough to remind me that I’d touched his solid pecs the night before. My gaze travelled down to his jeans that hinted at the package beneath. Oh shit, I talked about his cock. Did I dream about it too?

Why did he have to have such a sexy voice? My colleagues had often talked about his sexy voice. I’d noticed it, but now I wanted him to whisper filthy things in my ear as he pushed inside me. I couldn’t stop staring at his package. Did it move when I was staring at it? Why do I suddenly care about his cock now? Maybe it was because I was dealing with a long term build-up of hornyness or because I was around students who never stopped fucking.  I remembered again the way George said dick. I needed to get laid as soon as possible and not by my best friend.

“Finished staring?” My eyes flipped to his, and I was relieved to find them crinkled in amusement. “What’s going on with you, Grace?”

I paused and took another breath, filling myself with his scent. That only made things worse. I should leave as quickly and politely as possible.

“I think that breaking up with Brian and then surrounding myself with students who shag like rabbits has made me horny as fuck,” I confessed. Don’t stare at his dick again. But it drew me in, and my gaze flicked that way. His package twitched. It definitely twitched that time!

“You told me all about your hornyness last night. I thought that was you in drunk mode.” He sat on the edge of the bed. Was he trying to hide his cock from me by sitting down? Had I stared that much? Nah, we were friends. Midge and Big G. Oh shit, now I’m thinking about his Big G again. “Especially when you tried to barter with me so that you could see my dick.”

“What?” I covered my face in shame and also because he’d repeated the word dick. The heat was coursing through my body.

He eased the duvet back so he could see my face. His grey eyes were dancing. Was I still drunk? Eyes don’t dance. They seemed to sparkle like never before. “You told me that I could undress you if I showed you my, and I’m quoting here, ‘massive, panty-dropping cock’.”

The heat was now between my legs, and I didn’t want it to go. Even with a hangover, I felt alive like never before. My stomach flipped, and my pussy pulsed. I had missed out on so much with Brian, but I didn’t want George really, I couldn’t. But I had to admit that a big part of me, and not just the part that was wet and aching, did.

Why did his voice have to be so deep and seductive? I knew it was his job to entertain millions with his voice as a radio presenter, but this was me trying to hold on to any dignity I still had.

“And did you undress me?” The idea excited me. My heart rose as I imagined his finger slipping inside my dress and undoing the knot that kept the material together. Was his skin against mine as he lifted the hem and cupped my bum. Did he squeeze it briefly to see my reaction? I wanted his hands pushing the material off my shoulders and revealing my breasts hidden by the thin lace material of my bra. I fought the pull to squirm against my knickers.

I fixed him with a gaze. Humour left the room. Why had we never got together? In sixth form he was too busy screwing anything, teachers included, but never me. It was like our friendship was the most important thing to both of us, and we didn’t want to risk it. Then at university, I met Brian, and that was that. But I’d never been attracted to George before, had I?

“Did you undress me, George?” Please say yes. Maybe I’m still drunk because this isn’t me.

“No. I let you do that once I’d left the room. I needed my sleep for work,” he said quietly. His emotion was indistinguishable. I was too old to be having these feelings about my best mate. He was one of the few friends I had, and I couldn’t risk that.

“Phew.” I forced out my laugh. “You weren’t late for work, were you?”

As one of the best radio presenters in London, I knew nothing mattered more to George than his job. He’d reached his dream of being a breakfast radio presenter a couple of years earlier. It was the most coveted show. Only the best got to be breakfast hosts, and he was undoubtedly the best. The only problem was the way it fucked with his life. That was his other reason for hook-ups. Breakfast presenters were famous for being too exhausted for proper relationships. He was up every weekday morning before sunrise. He got invites to the best parties but was too tired to attend them.

“No, I was fine. I did tell my millions of listeners about my night and how my best friend was propositioning me.”

I sat up straight. “Please no, tell you me you didn’t.”

His gaze dropped down. The duvet had fallen, and my bra was showing. In the old days, it would have meant nothing, but there was heat in his eyes. His gaze seared my skin, and I licked my lips in anticipation, holding my sigh tightly. Something had changed between us and I wanted more. My nipples hardened, and he looked at my face before rubbing his hand across the stubble on his chin. What would that stubble feel like between my legs? I wanted him to scratch my thighs as he licked my pussy. I ached at the possibility of his soft lips against my nipples.

The ticking clock brought me to my senses. “Hold on, if you’re just getting home, that means it’s nearly lunchtime.” I jumped up; my blushes already forgotten.

It was Monday, and I had my first lecture in a couple of hours. I couldn’t miss that.

George was silent as I ran around the room. He stared between my legs. I dragged my dress from the floor and briefly glanced in the mirror to see what had caught George’s attention. The pink lace of my knickers was darker at my pussy. Was I that wet? Had George made me wet before?

I threw the dress on and shoved my fingers through my hair as I attempted to detangle the knots. Where were my purse and shoes? George remained frozen on the bed, his legs wide. He watched everything I did with raised eyebrows. I didn’t have time to worry about it, although it would consume me later.

“I guess I’m going to do the walk of shame,” I joked giving one last look to his parted lips as I dashed out the door.

“You wish,” he called back although it seemed like he was on a delay. He was right, though. I wished it more than I wished I had time to get to my halls before the lecture. I wanted to stay in that bed and scream louder than any of his conquests had before. The reality would struggle to live up to my fantasies, but I wanted to give reality a chance and find out for myself.

What the fuck was going on?

Chasing Rainbows

Somebody That I Used to Know

Night at the bar

“Homeless, dumped and fired.  Sorry I took “voluntary redundancy”, i.e. leave, or we’ll fire you because the company can’t afford to keep you or the rest of hundred people we’re offering voluntary redundancy to.

“My life couldn’t get any worse right? Oh yeah, I lost half my friends, and my parents wouldn’t speak to me. I’ve followed my life plan since I was twelve years old. I used my £25 birthday money and opened my first bank account to save for university. Then I watched my best mate, George, who was born on the same day as me, waste all of his birthday money on CDs from HMV and the biggest McDonald’s ever.

“At university, I met my fiancé, ex-fiancé, Brian. We were studying accounting, and it was his ultimate dream to be a wealthy accountant. I was interested in psychology, but that didn’t fit into my long- term plan of comfortable job, married by twenty-five and first child by twenty-eight so I chose accounting. George rolled his eyes when I told him I’d applied to study accounting. He nearly disowned me when I told him that Brian and I were an official couple. “University is about sex and having lots of it,” he’d shouted down the phone as in the background giggling ladies had screamed his name at his sixth party that week. Maybe university life was about sex for lots of people, including George, but I had a plan.

“Over time, my plan got harder to stick to. I didn’t have the wedding ring or baby by twenty-eight, but as Brian said, we were both completing our qualifications to be certified accountants. We were climbing the ladder. “There isn’t time to do everything,” he reminded me at an old school friend’s wedding as we’d watched George avoid the advances of one of the bridesmaids. It was George who’d sat with me when Brian was called into the office late that Saturday. I’d drank a lot of tequila, cried on his shoulder about not loving Brian that much anyway and then he’d held my hair back as I’d chucked up the contents of my stomach behind the marquee. I’d refused to talk about it after that, assuring George that I did love Brian and it must have been the evil drink talking. But he knew me well enough to know when I was honest. I should have done something about it then.

“Instead, I’m thirty-one, Brian and I have decided we don’t love each other and I’ve moved out of his apartment. Our friends have picked sides, even though it was amicable, and my parents aren’t speaking to me because I’ve diverted from the plan and it must be my fault “because Brian is just the best, isn’t he?”. He was sensible, good at saving and had a brilliant job. What more could a woman want?

“Sex! I haven’t had sex in a year, and before then it was mediocre. That’s what a woman wants; incredible, mind-blowing, headboard breaking sex. The sort that makes you scream if you’re a screamer, that makes you take a photo of yourself in the toilets at work because you’re soaking wet, and that makes you stay in bed all day because you need to do it again and again. But that doesn’t exist beyond books. Right?

“And now, thanks to my godfather who is a university chancellor I’m back at university studying Sports Psychology and living in halls. Over the last week, I’ve felt ancient around these freshers. I reckon at least twenty of them have propositioned me, but I’m way too old to sleep with them, aren’t I?”

“That’s great, lovely, but why are you telling me this? I asked if you wanted another glass of wine,” the Aussie bartender, who’d been supplying all I needed to drown my sorrows that night, stated. Glasses clinked together as he tidied up the now quiet bar. It was depressing to be alone in a bar at eleven o’clock on a Sunday evening, but I was too drunk to care. I toyed with the hem of my wrap around summer dress. It hit just above the knee, except when the wind got up, and I flashed anyone lucky enough to be watching. That might explain the come-ons I had today. Maybe if it blew up in front of the bartender, it would turn him on. I contemplated giving him flash as a taster. “Except now I’m cutting you off. No more alcohol for you, in fact, it’s time you went home.”

“You don’t want to have sex with me either?” I slurred before pursing my lips and giving him a wobbly-eyed wink.

His eye roll wasn’t subtle. “I’m gay, and even if I wasn’t, you’re way too drunk. Is there someone I can call to get you home safely?”

Who did I have? Not Brian, not my parents, and hardly any friends. They’d all be in bed getting ready for the Monday morning grind. One name popped into my head, and I slid my phone over to Scott, the bartender with George’s name and number on the screen. Scott’s sleeves rose slightly to show his tattooed forearms.

“Oh, I like those,” I’d whispered before I dropped my head to my arms and let my eyes drift closed. My dark wavy long-bob hid the world from my eyes. I was so tired. It had been a manic couple of months since the worst day of my life, and now it was the end of Freshers week. I was exhausted keeping up with eighteen-year-olds while wondering how my life went so wrong. The chatter from the remaining patrons lulled me to sleep.

The next thing I remembered was the voice of an angel whispering in my ear. “Grace, can you hear me? Wake up, Grace.”

With his soft home counties accent, he called my name a bit louder. I let out a breath that made my full lips vibrate noisily. Then I drifted off and returned to the lovely dream I’d been having about a sexy, straight bartender who held me against the wall with his thick tattooed forearms.

“GRACE!” the angel had turned to a devil and was hollering in my ear.

I lifted my head slightly and side-eyed the devil. A grin spread across my face when the fluffy, brown hair came into view. “George, you’re here. When did you get here?” My enthusiasm was like that of a teenage girl at a pop concert. I turned to the barman. “Aussie dude, meet my friend George. He’s the tallest man in the world. How tall are you, George?”

“The same height I’ve been since school,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. I wasn’t so drunk I didn’t notice. I coughed into the sleeve of my denim jacket. Gross. When did my mouth fumes get so bad? My stomach dropped as I reached for my wine glass. Damn, it was empty.

I remembered I was talking to someone about my bestie. Of course, the hot bartender. “George peaked early. When we were at school people called us Midget and the Giant. Cause I’m 5 foot nothing to his 6 foot 4. Take off your shoes, and I’ll walk around in them like we used to. It will make Aussie Dude laugh. He needs a laugh; he’s had a hard day. This crazy drunk woman has been telling him her life story.” I giggled at myself.

What did they say about men with big shoes? Oh yeah, they had big feet. No, that wasn’t it. Something about their dicks? I side-eyed George’s crotch. It had to be massive. Why didn’t I know, though? He was my school bestie who at parties I’d share a bed with. He was too busy getting with any female with a pulse to look at tiny, yet curvy me. I’d once been in bed pretending to sleep, after my eighteenth birthday, when he’d had sex with some guy’s older sister on the floor. He thought I was asleep, but I could see what was happening through the reflection in the mirror. I’d never told him about that. He’d kneeled against her as she played with her clit, whispering filthy things as he thrust into her. As she’d screamed his name, he’d covered her mouth, probably worried they’d wake me. But it was his eyes tightly closed and teeth clenched as he came that I’d stared at. I’d wanked over that memory a couple of times at university, even after I met Brian.

George was squatting so that he’s grey eyes were level with mine. All my accounting friends had wanted to fuck him at some point, including my very married boss, but he had kept them at bay. From what I could gather, George had semi-regular secret hook-ups that had no connection to his everyday life. And these days if he wasn’t busy working he was busy exercising. He’d decided to do an ironman competition and was working to be at his peak fitness. “Grace, sweetheart, have you been telling the poor guy about your plan?”

At the reminder of the plan, my face fell. Oh no, I was going straight from happy, annoying drunk to maudlin drunk. “I told Scott that I broke the plan. Everything is broken, Georgey Boy.” I liked to call him that sometimes because I knew it annoyed him. It tended to be a drunk thing.

I dropped my head against the bar, not caring about the bang it made as it hit the wood. Surely that should hurt? I caught Scott’s whispers as he caught George up with what I’d told him. George knew most of it, and he’d been the one who’d convinced me to go back to university. Maybe I should take a leaf out of his book and be shagging my way around uni, but they were all so young! They didn’t even know how good Craig David was the first time around or what a pager was. I laughed loudly to myself, but I wasn’t sure why. I was bladdered. I sensed a couple of people looking over, but I ignored them and played with the cord from my burgundy dress instead. The V at my chest wasn’t low enough to be indecent. How low would I have to bend to show George my boobs? Would he even care? I was too horny, and he was my bestie. I flashbacked to him having sex on my floor. If he was as good at it as I remembered when he was eighteen, he must be Cassanova now. Maybe he’d be the one to give me that one-off experience?

“Okay, Grace. I’m not taking you back to uni now. You can stay at mine,” George helped me off the chair. I got a whiff of his hair, it smelt of grapefruit and was damp at the ends. Had I got him out the shower? I must have been horny because instantly I imagined him soaping himself up as the water cascaded down. What was going on in my head?

My feet hit the sticky floor. What had happened to my heels? As I looked up, I found myself staring at George’s chest. I reached out a hand. When did his pecs get so hard? Even his t-shirt couldn’t hide it.

“Damn, George. You’ve been working out.” I stroked a hand down his chest to his abs and giggled when he sucked in a breath.

“Looks like I’m going to have to deal with you the same way I did when we were at sixth form,” he said with a smile. He took my hand in his, and before I had the chance to ask if we were going to dance, he tossed me over his shoulder. “Let’s go, Midge.”

Ah, the sweet version of my nickname from school. “Don’t forget my purse, Big G,” I chuckled. At school, I’d started calling him Big G when he called me Midge. Our mates thought it was because I’d seen his cock, which according to his exes was big, girthy and every woman’s dream. “Or my shoes. And don’t let anyone see my knickers, they’re my favourites, Big G.”

I giggled again.

“Why do you keep laughing?” he replied, popping a hand on my bum to keep my dress down while striding to the door. The heat from his hands caressed my bum. I gave Scott a wave as we headed outside. The rumble of traffic filled the air.

“Because Mr Strong Man, I’ve just realised I’ve never seen the real Big G close up and I’m wondering how big he is. Can I see it tonight? I’m sure he’d cheer me up,” I tried to coo.

He gave my bum a tap, and I covered my mouth to hold back the moan.

“No, Grace, you can’t see my dick tonight. I’m sorry you’re not having the best time at the moment, but I think it will improve. And just so you know, I’ve missed drunk you. You’re always the most innocent, so when you get drunk, it’s even better. I’m glad you’re not with Brian, he didn’t deserve you,” he replied, but I wasn’t listening. There was something in the way he’d tapped my bum and then said dick that made me ache to have him inside me. Would he spank me if I asked nicely?

I don’t know if it was the thought of his dick or just the alcohol, but I must have passed out soon after with his voice repeating the word dick over and over in my head.

Best Women’s Erotica

It’s just a mixture of black letters on white paper, how could I be that excited?

 

best women's eroticaAnd yet when I ripped open the package, which I suspected was another of my random eBay purchases, and found two copies of an anthology in which I’d had a story accepted I was bouncing. I thrust the book in front of my boyfriend’s face while simultaneously messaging a photo to my sisters. Why was this one anthology so special? I’ve been in other brilliant anthologies after all. But this was the first time I’d had a paperback that had my name in it. Gripping it tightly in my hand I realised it was a beautiful moment.

In recent months I haven’t written anything, not even a tweet. My day job has taken over my heart and my creativity. The doubt that has dogged my last couple of months destroyed my imagination and my focus.  I need to be bored if I’m going to come up with a story or something creative.  I’m the weirdo who was excited about an MRI a couple of years ago because I was looking forward to uninterrupted time with the heroines and dramas that I was developing. Holding a book that included a story I wrote was a nugget of joy.

But what is my story about? The theme of the anthology is outsiders and risk takers and my story, The Jump, is about the ultimate risk and the hornyness that comes from taking control.

It‘s about a sky dive. I did one several years ago. I’ve included a photo!

sexy skydive erotica Mine didn’t end like the one in my story. There was the same feeling of combatting fears and taking control though. Maybe you’ll see something of your story, as a risk taker or an outsider, when you read The Jump.

But, this anthology isn’t all about me. There are some hot, sexy and fascinating stories in Best Women’s Erotica of the Year (Best Women’s Erotica Series Book 4), which has been  brilliantly gathered and edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. Here are the buy links and an excerpt from my story. I hope to be tweeting over the rest of this month my thoughts on each story and what I love most about each one. I can’t wait!

You can buy the ebook here, the paperback here or find more links via the Best Women’s Erotica site here.

The ebook and USA paperback are released 12th December 2018, the British paperback February 2019.

Excerpt from The Jump – Best Women’s Erotica

Poppy’s knuckles ached from the clench of her fists, her nails stabbing into her skin.

Steve took her hands in his, his touch enough to soften her grip and ease her hands open. “That’s one of the best motivations I’ve heard. But I’m going to need you to relax.” His fingers drew circles against her palms, sending shivers up her arms. “You’re angry, I get that. But you’re terrified too.”

Poppy opened her mouth to argue but he preempted her fight. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but save the anger for when you get to the edge of the plane door. It will crush the terror.”

The reminder had her quaking.

Steve’s hands rubbed up and down her arms. “Do you trust me, Poppy?”

She hesitated. “Sure. What have I got to lose?”

“Your life.”

Her face fell.

“Sorry, I can be an ass. Let’s check your equipment.”

Steve helped her into her harness, checking the clips. The intensity of his brown eyes raised her heart rate further. Maybe the increasing adrenaline was pulling her arousal with it, but she basked in the attention he gave her, enjoying the straps rubbing against her crotch when he grabbed them roughly at her shoulders to check they were tight. Once again, his proximity excited her, his scent no longer reminding her of James but associating itself with the hottest guy she’d chatted with in a long time. It might be a blip, created as a reaction to the terror, but she indulged it. Gently, he popped the little hat on her head, his fingers stroking the nape of her neck when he helped her tuck her hair underneath.

To show he’d finished, he gave her butt a quick pat. “For luck. Let’s go. Everyone will be waiting.”

“I’m not going to die,” she whispered, conscious of his gloved hand tightening around hers.

Steve led her to the plane, her body shaking with every step.

“The tap of the butt helped,” she whispered in his ear.

“I hoped it might.”

“Just so you know, you have my permission to do whatever it takes to get me out of the plane.”

Corrupted – A New Erotic Anthology

Do you want to get corrupted?

I love submitting to anthologies. The call to write something different is a test of my imagination and the Corrupted call was no different.

What has liberated you? Has society suggested it corrupted you instead?

Online dating is a topic close to my heart, as you may have guessed from by blog. We hear society telling us that it’s caused people to sleep around more. In 2015 it was reported that the dating apps and sites were to blame for an increase in STIs. But these sites and apps have been liberating too. It’s easy to think of it as a danger or a distraction but to be a faceless person behind a computer screen or an app means we can be ourselves too. Instead of being judged by our looks or outward appearance, which is common when in a pub or a club,  the first impression we make includes our personalities!

That was my inspiration.

But there was more too. Before I continue let me share a little about the Corrupted anthology.

Corrupted coverCorrupted

Since the beginning of time, everything that has promised to liberate women has also been accused of corrupting them: suffrage, trousers, the pill, and learning to drive, and that’s just to start with.

In this erotica collection, women reclaim or recognise their power in myriad ways, and it’s not always pretty. From femdom dynamics to BDSM, boardrooms, and benchwarmers, Corrupted comprises a startling cross-section of stories defining what it means to be a woman in the modern world.

Edited by, and featuring, Charlie Powell. Corrupted contains contains ten powerful stories by Vanessa de Sade, Rebecca Chase, Annabeth Leong, Sonni de Soto, Robin Juliet, Kiki DeLovely, Byron Cane, Erin Horáková and Zak Jane Keir. It’s published by Sexy Little Pages.

Her Gateway

Before the submission call came through I remember reading an article about sex for the disabled. Is sex different for those who have less limbs, who can’t walk, who have no physical feelings below their waist?

While I will never know what it is like for someone with those disabilities I do know what online dating did for me when it came to sex. I found it liberating to be judged by my flirting techniques and ability to make someone laugh rather than how my body looked. For the first time I could chat to guys without my insecurities eating away at me. For me online dating had major moments of liberation, read my blog post about Mr Fumble here to find out more about my inspiration for this story.

Something else inspired me too. I was also fed up of reading stories about the same heroines. Where were the stories about people who didn’t fit the typical erotic romance stereotype?

rebecca chase corrupted her gateway

Her Gateway was born from all of the above and more.

Tessa has been in a wheelchair since she was young. Her disability has infiltrated every area of her life but so has her resilience. However, there’s one thing missing. She doesn’t know what sex is like. Being desired and feeling sexy are foreign concepts to her.

Online dating has changed everything. With the apps she can swipe to her heart’s content, searching for the guy that she might trust enough to give her the sexual experience she’s dreamed of.

Not only has she found him but as the story begins he’s waiting at her front door. The next 24 hours will change her life forever. What sort of change will it be and has it been worth longing for all this time? Could Mike be the man to make all her fantasies come true?

To understand what liberation can mean in this setting you’ll have to read the story, which you can buy here.

But before you go here is a teaser.

An Excerpt from Her Gateway

“I was wondering…” She tried not to smirk when she saw him raise his eyebrows at her long drawn out words and seductive tone. “If you’d tell me one of those fantasies. You know, what have you thought about doing with me and exactly where was your hand when you imagined it?” With a smirk, she looked at his crotch and gave him a wink.

Mike chuckled his amusement, stepping back with an exaggerated sigh. “Exactly where you think it was. Okay, now which fantasy shall I share first? How about the one where I hold you up against the wall. I’m stronger than I look and you’re no fragile doll. I think you might enjoy some different positions and locations.”

She nearly spluttered at his words. Mike had offered her more than she’d realised could be available. Once more she took in his features. His sexiness didn’t just come from his looks. He exuded it like most people sweated. A nonchalant air surrounded him but it wasn’t because he didn’t care what happened. Tessa got a sense that he’d been through a lot in his thirty years, most he’d probably not share, even though she’d poured out her heart and insecurities to him. But now he seemed to be in a comfortable place. They’d only been chatting for a couple of months and yet she could see many aspects to him; his past was a telling blemish on his skin.

That was her hope too, that one day she would be fully comfortable in her own skin. A sexual being who men desired and even if they didn’t, the knowledge of that wouldn’t lessen her. But there was a goal she had to reach first.

The thoughts of conquering this barrier were what might have caused her to clear her throat and announce her idea louder than necessary. “Maybe we should talk in bed.”

The heat from her cheeks blazed when he rose his eyebrows, especially when he added an amused smile.

Beckoning him closer, she placed her hand in his, noticing that clasping him tightly made it more difficult to tremble. He squeezed her hand gently before letting it go so that she could lead him towards her bedroom.

Working It – A New Erotic Anthology

A New Erotic Anthology

working it anthologyI have a new story featured in an anthology. Working It is a collection of sixteen stories that explore sex in the working world. Everybody’s working it, grinding away at the nine to five, when all we really want to do is escape to take a hot tumble on the boss’s desk. Let this sexy collection whisk you away from the office. Will you succumb to the casual charm of your new client, tip over the edge for your warehouse trainee, or get a long-thought of revenge on the supervisor making your life hell? White collar. Blue collar. It doesn’t matter what collar you’re wearing once the shirts come off. Leave the office behind with Working It.

Published by SinCyr Publishing, edited and launched by Harley Easton and CM Peters.

I’ve worked in a variety of places, some dull and some full of rumours about who is doing who on what desk. I’m fascinated by the dynamics of the boss/subordinate relationships and the gossip that surrounded the little flirty advances in the workplace. The first day after the debauched Christmas party was always a fun one!

Power Play

My story for this anthology is called Power Play. It taps into the excitement that can occur in the office at night.

What would you do if you had no supervision and a need to work out your sexual needs?

ghosted eroticPower Play focuses around an established married couple who can’t find the time to enjoy each other the way they want to. We’ve all heard people joke that couples with kids don’t have sex, which I know isn’t true but having children means you might have different constraints to your sex life than you had before. Most of the stories I’ve read online that feature couples are usually about affairs or break-ups.

I wanted to tell a different side.

So we have a married couple and an office at night. What could go wrong? I couldn’t write a story about the office without including a hideous boss. Most of us have had a boss we didn’t like, for whatever reason. The boss in Power Play may not be exactly like one you’ve had but some aspects may be familiar. The ones in my life sometimes got their comeuppance but I can’t promise the same for the one in this story.

To find out more about Power Play you’ll have to read it. You can buy it here.

But before you go here is a little treat.

An excerpt from Power Play

Picking up the phone, she returned the sentiment with a wave as the only voice that could turn her grimace into a smile trickled into her ears. “Hey, honey.”

They weren’t always a passionate couple; sometimes the way Simon picked at his fingers made her want to tie his hands together while she pushed him out of bed. But no one could reach inside her stomach and drop it from the highest height with a few whispered words like he could. It made her change of plans more difficult to share. She fluffed the paper of her notebook unsure how to start.

“I hope those are the sounds of you packing up. The table is booked for 7.30pm and I can’t wait to watch you get ready. You know that’s one of my favorite parts of a night out with you. It never fails to remind me how lucky I am to be your husband.”

She smiled at the sweetness of his words but the smile quickly turned into a sad squeeze of her lips. “I love that too,” she replied wistfully.

“What’s wrong?” Simon asked but she knew he’d know. It was the same thing that was always wrong these days. “What’s the witch done now?”

“I can’t go out tonight. She’s given me the end of quarter figures to complete. I’m not going to be home for at least another four hours,” she replied, absentmindedly thumbing the stack of papers in front of her.

“Then I’ll bring dinner to you. The kids are at your sister’s, we might as well spend the evening together, even if I have to come back into work.”

“But with you here, I won’t get anything done. Have a night to yourself, you don’t get one often. Enjoy the opportunity to chill out.” The sighing response made her despondency acuter.

“I had plans for you tonight,” his voice had dropped to nearly a growl. It was his tell-tale sexual timbre. It was for the best he wasn’t coming anywhere near the office; she wouldn’t be able to resist him. “I could still fulfill those plans with you at the office.”

A flush slowly crept up her body. It filled her limbs, even the tips of her fingers felt the first sparks of arousal. How could the suggestion of office fun be such an instant aphrodisiac?

Other Stories

To take a look at my other books please go to the Books section of my website here. It includes a short story that was inspired by one of my previous workplaces. Check out Work for Me for another office based encounter. It begins with a sexy young carpenter one alcohol fuelled night.

Goodbye Moderation: Gluttony

Stories are like buses; nothing comes along for an age and then suddenly several anthologies at once. I have another one coming out soon but first let me introduce you to WAM Bam, a story I wrote for Goodbye Moderation: Gluttony. It’s is like nothing I’ve tried before.

Goodbye Moderation: Gluttony is a collection of stories about the real side of love and lust

Goodbye moderation gluttonyNothing succeeds like excess, and too much is never enough…

In a world where indulging our appetites is too often seen as a bad, selfish way to live, this anthology offers delightfully wicked stories of people feasting unashamedly on pleasure.

Discover carnal pleasures that combine catering and cunnilingus, devour these delicious tales of abandon and allow yourself to be inspired by characters who long to taste all that life and lust can offer, whether their focus is food, sex or a combination of the two.

By turns sweet, sticky, sensuous and startling, you’ll find these offerings finger-lickin’ good.

Goodbye Moderation: Gluttony is a collection of 12 short stories written by a variety of authors including Jordan Monroe, Annabeth Leong and Elna Holst. It is published by Sexy Little Pages and has been edited by the brilliant Zak Jane Keir.

WAM Bam

The story I wrote for this anthology was inspired by a guy I met once. We dated a little but it didn’t turn into anything. You can read more about him here.

WAM sploshing gluttonyThat guy, who for blogging purposes I named Peter Wang, was a big fan of Wet and Messy Play, also known as WAM or Sploshing. For him the biggest turn on was the idea of being gunged while people laughed at his humiliation. While this story doesn’t go in that direction it does bring in the idea of teasing someone with whipped cream, shoving frosting in places it isn’t used to going and the excitement of trying a fetish you never considered before. For love we can do the things that we once thought impossible. I now live with a snake for goodness sake!

Back to the Story

But this story isn’t about me or about Peter Wang, it’s about the sacrifices you might make for love. It’s about the fear that goes with trying something new.

Will Josie go through with it or will her relationship come to a sticky end?

Give yourself the chance to read something new. What could be more gluttonous with Christmas and Thanksgiving around the corner than a bit of WAM?

To buy the book or find out more about it click here.

Don’t forget to read this excerpt first

“What’s in your hand?” he asked, in a trembling whisper.

“Don’t you recognise squirty cream when you see it?” she asked, delighting in the way his whole body juddered when she attempted to spray some on her finger. Unfortunately, she must have shaken the can too much – or not enough – because, as soon as she pressed down the nozzle, it splatted everything within her vicinity. “Damn, that was meant to be sexy.”

“It was,” he replied with a gulp, barely noticing the cream sinking into carpet.

Giving it a quick shake, she squirted it again. The cream plopped onto her finger, the smell of sugar hitting the air instantly. With a cheeky grin, she sucked her finger dry, fixing her eyes on Paul. The reward for her initial foray into the afternoon’s entertainment was his open mouth and reddening face.

“But,” he stammered, before clearing what sounded like a building site of gravel from his throat, “why do you have it?”

Dropping her voice, she teased him into her confidence. His eyes widened at each word of her plan. But suspicion remained, drawing his eyebrows together and pursing his kissable lips.

There was something else demanding her attention. As she spoke, he neared her, revealing a masterful tenting in his shorts. She’d been lucky enough to become well acquainted with his cock over the past five months. It was perfect; not too big, not too small. She felt like Goldilocks when she got to taste it for the first time. It was just right.

The vehemence of his erection at her intentions caused a different sort of reaction. Warmth spread around her sex. Desire had sneaked up on her and, in response she fluttered her eyelashes, offering him more of her temptations.

Paul rarely failed to get a hard on when they were together but, today, he looked like he was fit to burst.

“And what happens to whoever wins Battleships?” he asked, as she finished sharing the planned delights of their afternoon.

“It’s a surprise. But you’ll love it, or maybe I will,” she winked, with a teasing grin.

 

 

7 Facts About Me

A Girl in Islington, a lovely lady that I follow on twitter wrote an interesting blog post with facts about her love life. It makes for a brilliant read. Make sure you take a look here. I was lucky enough to be mentioned as one of her favourite 15 bloggers.

So strap yourself in because here are seven facts about me.

  • I’ve presented a couple of radio shows

That’s all it was, several one hour radio shows. It was terrifying, I made an ass of myself and unsurprisingly as a result I don’t have a career in radio. I vaguely remember singing along to Steve Harley’s Make Me Smile. It did wonders for my confidence though, once I stopped shaking. I’m sure the listeners could hear me trembling through their speakers.

  • I’m a vanilla erotic romance writer

before the slaughterThe stories I enjoy writing incorporate romance, a happy ever after (or happy for now), life issues and sexy times. I’m currently working on an erotic romance centred around a rugby playing artist who has a painful secret and a woman working for a children’s charity. I’m also completing an anthology that includes a story about a couple who’ve struggled to have sex due to problems with infertility. Life is a bitch at times and my stories reflect that. Don’t forget the sex though.

  • I’ve brushed Tinky Winky

Well, technically I brushed his costume and he wasn’t wearing it. I did work experience at the production company that makes Teletubbies. It was an eye opening experience that I remember fondly. I also learnt how to use a cafetiere. What a clueless 15 year old I was!

  • I lost my virginity after my mid-twenties

You don’t hear that one everyday. I used to be a good Christian girl who wanted to wait until I was married but then some significant things happened in my life and I decided that I might never get married. I wasn’t going to live without ever having had sex so I decided things had to change. Happily my first time was amazing although the guy broke my heart. I regret nothing.

  • Online dating inspired me

Online dating hook upsI haven’t always enjoyed online dating. However, without doing it I wouldn’t have met my boyfriend. I’m now trying to deal with “living with a boy” and his snake. I mean the reptile version. Online dating gave me ideas for my stories too. I have one coming out in an anthology soon about WAM (wet and messy play, aka sploshing). It’s not something I’ve ever done or want to do but I met a guy once who was a big fan and told me all about it. Online dating has also caused me much heartbreak. Heartbreak offers excellent inspiration to a romance writer.

  • I’m 1 in 250 million

I have two rare medical conditions.  I’ve spent a lot of my life in hospitals being poked and prodded. Things are okay now but who knows what the future holds.

  • I once sexted a guy while I was in church

    sextingThe vicar’s wife nearly saw a picture of his penis. I was half way through a reply to him (or rather a photo of him) when she started talking to me after the service. I decided after this debacle that maybe I needed a break from going to church as my heart wasn’t in it.

I also have a dress up box and I’m obsessed with Pokemon Go, I’m leaving those facts there though because I’m not sure how interesting they are.

Those were my facts and I’d love to read yours too. There are many tweeters I think would have some fascinating facts including:

Stephanie Simpson

Jolie Vines

Everybodys Mate

Not So Sex In the City

Eliza

The Gif Queen

Kate

Basia

Not So Sadly Single

Jesse Stuart

Please tell me your facts, even if I haven’t mentioned your name. You can add them here or on my Facebook or Twitter pages.

(Pokemon) Go For Me

pokemonPokemon Go is back in the news as it is one of the standout successes of 2016 and has had a recent upgrade that has got people playing again. It was initially an app that took over the world in the summer. Suddenly parks were swelled with crowds. People were camped out  and flicking their phones at unusual intervals. Others traipsed around town and city centres, heads bowed and oblivious to anything but a poke stop or another creature. Worse than bumping into strangers was the prospect of running out of balls or having even a Pidgey run away from you.

I confess I also became addicted to the game. Not only did it entertain me for hours but I even got asked out as a result of it. While playing Pokemon Go on a train a guy suddenly told me how much he liked gamer girls and then asked me out for a drink!

But there was more. Pokemon Go, and the memory of an ex who I knew would love that the game, inspired my free story Go For Me – the working title was Pokemon Go For Me. You can read an excerpt here on a previous post for Masturbation Monday. Warning – it’s dirty.

Go For Me: A short tale of erotic romance

go for me pokemonHolly has become addicted to playing Pokemon Go on her phone. She pretends it’s because she likes the game but really it reminds her of Lewis, the geeky guy who broke her heart. One night something unusual happens. Holly is lured, through the tricks of the game, to places she and Lewis had significant moments in their relationship. From the supermarket where they first met, fighting over a Star Wars droid, to the park where they had mind blowing sex after he played her the song he’d written for her. All the lures and memories seem to be leading her somewhere significant. But who is in control of this night and what will she find at the last location?

This short story is over 9,000 words and contains sexual situations and language only suitable for those aged 18+

 

It is available for free and can be downloaded as an epub file, mobi file or as a pdf

Click here to download (Pokemon) Go For Me epub version

Click here to download (Pokemon) Go For Me mobi version

Click here to download Pokemon Go For Me pdf version