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

Masturbation Monday – Go For Me

masturbation mondayMasturbation Monday

I’ve wanted to get involved with Masturbation Monday (thank you Kayla Lords for organising it every week) for some time now but never had the right story, excerpt or idea to post, until today.

Recently I started playing Pokemon Go and as with most things in my life it inspired a story of love and sex. Please find an excerpt of (Pokemon) Go For Me below. You can read it for free via Literotica or via my news or books page.

 

go for me pokemonThere were questions she attempted to form in her mind; how had he got the mini golf to open, was there anyone around? But none of it mattered when arousal filled every vein and her body quivered against him.

Edging him backwards, she lightly pushed him to the ground, making her intentions clear.

“You want to do it here?”

Holly nodded slowly, aware that her teeth were showing beneath the edges of her smile. Every part of him brought her joy but she’d never been as hungry for him as she was in that moment. The days without him made her want to consume him in a frenzy. She forced herself to relish every touch of his skin, each tickle of her senses. It was foolish to hope the intimacy would heal the last month of suffering but she had faith anyway.

The look of awe was on Lewis’ face again as his eyes swept up her form. Her feet were either side of him, her body poised and ready.

“What do you want?” I’m offering him the world, will he take it?

“I want you to scream my name until you’re hoarse. I want the wind to pick up the sounds of our love making. I want it to carry to those who will have blessing in their lives because they’ll learn what pleasure is just by hearing us.”

“How poetic,” she teased, her belief in their immediate future aiding her in relinquishing her fears, helping her to be whole again.

“And I want to be inside you.” His longing touched her more intimately than any of the recent touches she’d tried to give herself.

“You’d best take my knickers off me then.”

Leaning forward his lips brushed against her skin, worshipping the only part of her he could reach with his mouth. Lewis’ hands reached round and slowly slid up her calves, resting temporarily on the backs of her knees where he drew soft circles with the tips of his fingers.

It was as if everywhere he touched became an erogenous zone but only because of her lust for him. The hands slid higher, reaching under the hem of her flimsy dress before slowly caressing her bum cheeks.

A finger leisurely stroked across her lace covered entrance. Holly hissed in surprise.

“You’re meant to be removing them, not enjoying how they feel,” she said between gritted teeth.

The only response was another lazy stroke before he grabbed the waistband and dragged the lace down.

masturbation mondayLewis allowed her to step out of them before returning his hands to her arse. With great control he squeezed each cheek, as if discovering each fleshy handful for the first time.

“So soft,” he whispered. “Like two sexy peaches.”

Holly giggled until he eased his head under her dress and gave her clit a quick lick.

“Hmmm, very wet and juicy,” he murmured, before suckling gently, causing her to buckle against his mouth.

“Lewis,” she pleaded.

“I’ve missed this. I know not having it was my fault but I need this.” Pressing her bum firmly he pushed her hard against his mouth.

Holding and caressing his head between her hands didn’t stop the earthquake like shakes of her body as he lapped at her. Lewis was like a man kept prisoner for decades finally facing a pure stream of refreshing cold water that dripped down his throat with ease.

Each gentle touch of the tip of his tongue caused her body to hum with need. Anticipation held her tightly as he darted his thick muscle inside her. Holly tried to hold the orgasm and just enjoy the moment but his tongue snaked inside, massaging her like it was created for that purpose alone.

Easing his head away he made one request. “I want to be inside you when you come. I want to see your face when you scream my name.”

I can’t deny him anything. Kneeling down she straddled him, his hands continued to roam, massaging her bum while she ground against his hardness beneath his jeans.

His reaction was ecstasy laced with a desire deeper than she’d seen before. “I come alive with you, Holly. I don’t just mean during sex. My life is empty without you. I need you to be whole, both of us to be whole. I’m sorry for what happened, I really am.”

Putting a finger to his lips to quieten him had a different effect to the one she was expecting. Lewis captured her hand and brought his lips to the pulse point on the inside of her wrist. “I will be yours for as long as you want me. You’re my Pied Piper,” he said between kisses.

Smiling brighter than a blinding sun, she used her spare hand to unfasten his jeans before sliding her hand inside and wrapping her hand around his swollen member.

“No boxers today?”

“I tried to be more adventurous for you.”

“I don’t need adventure, I just need you,” she smiled serenely. “Although it does make for much easier access.”

Lewis released her long enough to grab a condom from his wallet and help her push his jeans down to his ankles.

“Would you put it on? I love watching you do it.” Ripping the foil with her teeth, she delighted at the way his erection pushed at her lips.

“Impatient little fucker, isn’t he?” she joked. Grabbing him roughly, she felt his whole body flinch and squirm as she pushed the rubber the whole way down his length, giving his balls a cheeky stroke. It was his turn to hiss.

Grinding against him brought him deliciously hard against her sensitive clit. The excruciating need emblazoned across his face gave her power, replacing the fear and sadness that had been buried deep for the last month. His eyes squinted against her glow.

Reaching for him, knowing he was already close, she lined him up between her lips.

“Now,” she requested.

The furrow of confusion didn’t last, need overtaking any other thought.

Quickly he thrust his pelvis up, penetrating her in one movement. The feeling of being suddenly full nearly triggered her orgasm but she held it at bay, temporarily.

Not yet, she thought, basking in the pleasure of his erection that pushed into her at increasing speed. Holly rocked against him, her legs acting as leverage. Lifting slightly before slamming down, she felt the fraught pace of his surging body. Lewis’ cries of ecstasy filled her heart, yanking her orgasm closer once more.

Nature was joining them like an orchestra preparing for the grand finale of a concerto. Wind rushed around them while birds rustled the leaves in the trees. The beauty was lost on her, it was him that held her raptured.

“Come for me, Holly. Throw your head back and come with me inside you. I want nothing more,” he demanded. Slow, gentle lovemaking would keep them enthralled later in his bed, where his strong arms would cocoon her while their mouths indulged on each other’s bodies. But for now they were two people who needed to revel in each other’s climax.

Once more she lifted herself and dropped back down as Lewis drove hard, like a beast, inside her. The savage thrust of his body brought an explosion of electricity to her nerve endings. In surrender, she arched her back and rode the swell of desire with vigour. The blinding lights were now within her head and, as she came, she screamed his name.

Lewis’ loud grunts matched her screams in fervour and he shook, bucking against her, his orgasm turning him into a creature that breathed a fire of passion as he clung to her body. Maybe drawn by a need for refuge, he sat up and held her tightly, their convulsing form turning them into one, wrecking their bodies yet provoking a deeper hunger for more.

Fight For Me: a short tale of erotic romance

New Book alert! Fight for meAlthough you can find Fight For Me in the Crave For Me anthology I decided it was time it got its own release. I remember sitting down to plan this book out on a cold November night in a quiet cafe. It wasn’t the obvious setting for an erotic romance brimming with love but that didn’t stop me. When I was younger I was too shy to talk to the guys I had crushes on. During my teens and 20s there were several crushes that made my palms sweaty and my face beetroot red. Unfortunately it never went further. The inability to flirt, even chat to guys I had crushes on inspired a lot of my writing, including this story.

But that wasn’t the only inspiration.

You’ll see from my A-Z of Online Dating blog posts that I’ve had some good and bad dates. One of the good ones, that will feature under H is for Heartbreak was Mr Fumble. He was a squaddie that broke my heart but he also made a massive impact on many things, including my imagination. That was where the inspiration started.

But it needed somewhere else to go. I have always had a love of stories where females fall in love with their brother’s best friends. But I can’t explain why. I had lukewarm feelings for several of my brother’s friends when I was younger but none of them stood out. None of them captured my lust, brought me joy or made me laugh like the male protagonist in Fight For Me.

Fight for me Crave

Joe is a hot and cocky yet endearing and humorous soldier who our female protagonist Jules has always fancied. Although she has successfully avoided him for years, when she realised he could never be the man she wanted, she has continued to love him. The rumour among her family was that he couldn’t get leave from the army for Jules’ brother’s wedding. But would he really miss his best friend’s wedding or the chance to see Jules again?

Let Joe be your new book boyfriend. I’m certain I wouldn’t be able to resist him.

You can buy the book by clicking on this link or any of the links on my books page.

Please enjoy the excerpt below and tell me, have you ever had a kiss like this?

Excerpt

“I see you have no wedding ring. Are you here alone? Always alone aren’t you, Pencil? It seems to suit you well. No friends, no husband, no nothing.” Freya and Annabella giggled next to her, the monster was laughing in her face once more.

Say anything, get the fuckers back with your words. She opened her mouth but all that came out was a barely audible squeak. They cackled in response.

Hands suddenly found her hips, gripping tightly, their strength easily turning her shocked body around, before soft lips brushed against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed in the pleasure of the moment. It was a graceful, gentle kiss at first but quickly escalated into a needy, passionate embrace. Jules had no idea who the man demanding such heat was and she was reluctant to open her eyes and find out. This was a kiss of longing and she was drowning in it.

The stranger pressed his strong firm body against her swollen breasts. For a second she questioned what she was doing, but any reluctance was crushed as she willingly opened her mouth to his sensuous and insistent tongue easing her lips apart. Hands slid hungrily to the flesh of her bottom, squeezing it expertly through her jeans, pulling her closer. There was an unexpected opulence to his touch and she felt a hardness pressing into her that raised her curiosity as quickly as it increased the ache between her legs.

The rumble of the music travelled through each nerve of her body but her senses continued to stay keenly focused on him. His minty breath fought with the mixture of spirits still on her tongue. The smell of musky deodorant mingled with sweat and something almost woody, which caused her nose to tingle as she felt the material of his clothes against her skin. Rough material rubbed against her lower back where her top had lifted slightly, heightening her arousal and making her force him closer. Delicate fingertips found the bristles of hair on his neck and tentatively she stroked them. Who is this guy? That hardness is all mine.

Air was fading from her lungs but she didn’t want to stop. She was unrestrained, controlled by a force beyond reason, as she rubbed mercilessly against his firm straining crotch. The alcohol that had filled her bloodstream brought flushed and heady sensations but still she embraced the arousal that heated her body throughout. A rough tongue massaged hers with expert skill as his fingertips toyed with the hem of her rising top.

I’m almost out of air, I need to breathe. Hands climbed quickly, sensing a rearing of her head, pressing a little harder against her neck, as if he wasn’t ready to let her go. I want this kiss more than I want to breathe but I need to know who is bringing me to these heights. It could be anyone. What if someone is playing a joke on me?

Jules’ green eyes fluttered open and took a moment to focus, searching through the slight fuzz of alcohol that still clouded her pupils. Oh my God, it can’t be. As if her memories had synchronised to stab her in her heart while playing cruel games with her senses, she realised she was looking at the one man she thought she’d successfully avoided for life.

Joe was home and she was in his arms. Shit!

“Alright, Jules? Just follow my lead,” he whispered in her ear, before giving her one of the signature cheeky grins she’d missed.

“Sweetheart, I’ve found you. Sorry I was late, you know what the army is like. There are always people who need rescuing.”

Words failed her. What the hell is he doing here? And what the fuck was with that kiss?