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.

 

 

United in Love Charity Anthology

New Release and It’s For Charity

When Lucy Felthouse sent out the submission call for this charity anthology I knew I had to be involved. It has been put together to benefit the British Red Cross’s UK Solidarity Fund.

United in Love charity anthologyMany fantastic authors have contributed to this anthology.  Each of the characters in the short stories are dealing with horrific and heartbreaking situations—loss, grief, war, divorce, dementia, disputes over land and more, but what they all have in common is that, with the help of love, of unity, they come through. It may not be all happily-ever-after—since life just doesn’t work that way—but positivity and solidarity shine through in each of the tales and will warm your heart.

Charity has and always will be a massive part of my life and being able to use my love of writing for the benefit of others was something I never thought possible. So please enjoy my story, Forget Me Not, and remember every penny will go to the British Red Cross’s Solidarity Fund.

Forget Me Not

My story, Forget Me Not, features  Sadie and her nana, Martha. Sadie’s heart is broken, she’s had to watch her close friend, her grandma, deteriorate day by day due to dementia. On the last night Martha goes wandering Sadie finds her being looked after by George, the only person that has brought light to her life over the last soul destroying months. But will this be the last time Sadie has reason to see him? Are her feelings more than just gratitude? And how will she cope without this light in her life?

You’ll have to read the story to find out but first enjoy an excerpt.

 

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An Excerpt

Forget Me Not charity anthology United in LoveIt was a declaration unlike any she’d heard before. “A date?” she said. “Isn’t that what this is?” He grinned in a wicked way that made her want to pull at his T-shirt and cover him in kisses. “Except, I need to check something before I’m willing to agree to anything.”

“Are we back to my balls again? Because I’m not used to whipping them out willy-nilly.”

She clasped a hand over her mouth to force her giggle back down. “No, you sod.” She launched herself at him, then planted a kiss on his lips.

What started as a soft meeting of mouths developed into a frenzied joining, their noses bumping haphazardly. George tilted his head to the side, bringing skilful calm to their kiss. As his tongue eased her lips apart she was aware of his hands, sliding slowly from the curve of her hips, up her body, finally coming to rest at the nape of her neck, tickling the sensitive hairs.

It wasn’t the perfect kiss—if such a thing existed—but the nervous caress of two people learning each other’s preferences. His tongue did an unusual dance in her mouth. Sadie pulled away and looked at him suspiciously.

“Sorry,” he said, his face creased with anxiety. “It’s been a while.”

There would be time to ask about his past. Sadie smiled her encouragement before dipping her head, nearing his mouth, but stopping short of letting the kiss take over. With a smile she recreated the move, grinning when he furrowed his brow and growled his frustration.

George’s fingers bunched in her blonde hair, pulling her against him so his lips could close in on hers.

Make a Date: the Good

Good Date?

In my last couple of posts I’ve talked about some bad date experiences but this one is different. Strap yourself in, it’s time you heard about Stallion Stan.

Stallion Stan

Stan was one of those guys where everything started off well. We chatted for a couple of day’s online then swapped numbers and continued our conversations via text. We spoke on the phone before we met, it was like talking with a friend instead of an awkward chat with a guy I’d never met. Stan had me in giggles and effortless smiles. The perfect version of funny and ridiculously cute, which happens to be my type.

flirt dateWhen the conversations got too sexual he’d rein them in but in an inquisitive and controlled way. He wanted to talk about fantasies and preferences but was also looking for something more long term than a bit of sexting fun.

We shared a lot of baggage before we met, which did a lot for bringing those fences down. Stan had some massive baggage, he was a former alcoholic, still living with his parents, his ex-girlfriend had cheated on him and he was struggling work wise due to his past. But he was nearing the career he’d been working towards. I was grateful for his honesty.

And I liked him.

We were both nervous before we met, wondering if when we stood in front of each other we’d find each other physically attractive. We’d got on really well so far.

Surely something had to go wrong?

The Day had Arrived

Finally the day of the date came. We were going to meet for lunch and see what would happen from there. Stan was adamant we’d spend all afternoon together, I was a little more reluctant, not making any promises in case I couldn’t keep them.

Nervous smiles were obvious when we first came face to face. My butterflies were already zipping around my belly. His third question was “What do you think about me?” Apparently he didn’t always get brilliant reactions. I couldn’t understand why. He was gorgeous. He reminded me of Chris Stark from the Scott Mills Show.

first date datesOur lunch was full of laughs and flirty, teasing smiles. Stan questioned if he had any competition for me and I couldn’t help but blush in response, no one had ever wanted to compete for me before.!

It turned out his prediction had been right about the date. After lunch we went for a semi-romantic stroll in the cold winter air, ending at a secluded stone line bandstand on the edge of a park.

That was the day I learnt I could happily kiss him for hours. Legs went numb, bottoms became as hard as the cold stone we sat on but the heat between us blazed.

It was the sort of kissing that erotic romances are based on.

Hands readily touched wherever they could get and on the whole they kept to the decent places. It was pretty cold for stripping in public which was probably for the best because we couldn’t get enough of each other. first date good dateOccasionally someone would walk near to our hiding spot and we’d break apart like horny teenagers caught making out behind the bike sheds. The afternoon we spent together in the park was filled with giggles, chatting, sweet yet lust filled kisses and stolen intimate touches.

It was a special date, a first date that made all the crap ones fade into insignificance.

Eventually we said our reluctant goodbyes. The date could have gone on for hours more. But I knew every kiss was giving me heady sensations and I might have problems being responsible for my actions.

I drove home joyous, touching my lips with my fingertips filled with fond memories and wondering what would happen next.

So..?

You’ll have to wonder what happened next, for now. As I said in a previous post first dates can become a game changer, making it hard to pick up your slovenly broken bodies and hearts and fake a smile every time you face a new one. But the good ones, the dates that leave you grinning as you try to sleep, make all the shit worthwhile and bring happiness and hope.

So don’t give up just yet. After all, as I was once told, you could be about to go on your “last first date”.

Please tell me your good, bad and ugly first date stories either in the comments section or via my Facebook page or Twitter page. And if you want me to answer any questions in my blog please drop me a message.

Symphony Amore: Erotic Stories of Love and Music

Symphony AmoreSymphony Amore, A New Anthology

In less than a week Symphony Amore will be released and I can’t wait. The anthology of erotic stories features my short story, Beautiful Destruction.

I am unnecessarily excited for a couple of reasons that I am willing to share. But you will have to come closer if you want to hear them. Are you ready?

  • I’ve never had a published story available in paperback, until now. That’s right you can buy Symphony Amore in paperback. See the buy links below.
  • It’s set in a club with a stunning DJ on a night where anything can happen.
  • My editor, who I don’t pay enough, said it was one of the best stories I’d written.
  • It’s my first lesbian tale. It’s not my last though, I was working on another one this morning.
  • I’m featured in several anthologies this year, this is the first to be released.

I wrote this story, which isn’t based on the exploits of my housemate who demanded to “proof” read it in case, because I love music and especially dancing in clubs. There is something erotic and heady about the mesmeric beats and mystery in the darkness of a club. I have memories from nights out, including being personally welcomed by the DJ when I walked into the club with the words, “You’re back! Will you come to my birthday party?” to the night I was motorboated by a stranger whose face I wouldn’t recognise if I saw it again.

But this story isn’t about my experiences it’s about Mila’s and what happens the night she hears her favourite song.

Will she be healed from the last six months of sadness?

Will she meet the creator of the song that has held huge significance in her life?

And what will happen when she comes face to face with the sexy yet mysterious DJ?

Symphony Amore

Find out More…

You’ll have to read the story to find out but first enjoy a teasing excerpt.

Symphony Amore is published by Sexy Little Pages and has been edited by the fantastic Jordan Monroe. The collection of nine stories, released on 19th September, features a broad spectrum of musicians from all sections of the orchestra and beyond. Immerse yourself in tale of conductors and concert-goers, romantic encounters and hard-hitting BDSM play, and embrace the diverse cast that you’ll meet.

Music truly is the universal language and these stories will give you hours of reading pleasure.

♥️ Buy now: Kindle or PaperbackSmashwords, or iTunes. ♥️

Teasing Excerpt

Occasionally, stringed instruments would raise their presence through the tune, demanding to be heard before being replaced by the punch of a drum. Each instrument garnered a different response and Mila felt herself bending seductively before bouncing to a climbing rhythm. In everything, her eyes never left the booth. She was performing before the musical creator, offering herself as a sacrifice to the DJ god.

Hands in the air, she gave all her body had left. Sweat dripped down her collarbone and beneath the silk of her grey t-shirt but it went ignored. Her thighs felt clammy beneath her leather skirt but it didn’t stop her writhing hips. Temporarily, she was conscious of a dampness higher than her thighs, covering her black thong, joining with the pulsating that manipulated her core. Nothing could satisfy this fire that burned inside her.

The strings rose once more and she realised she’d heard them before. It was one of the songs the string quartet had been asked to play at the wedding, the one they’d been tuning up for during the argument with Harriet.

Fuck, she needed to get out of there.

I is for Imperfect, part 2

In my last post, I shared a story that showed that the people and situations you come across when dating can be far from perfect. If you need more evidence about how imperfect I am then read on.

Imperfect angelI’m sure I’ve hurt my fair share of guys, I’m no angel. I try not to damage anyone but it happens and there’s one that’s embedded himself in my mind. Horny Harry was a nice guy with obvious shyness and nervousness. On our first date, I had the rare joy of being the confident one. We held hands like young teens and I chatted nonsensically to relax him.

After dinner, I suggested a drink in order to give him time to chill and carry on the happiness that was eclipsing his fear and beginning to flow through him. We sat across from each other smiling, his fingers threaded through mine; the real Harry was slowly being revealed. It was a fun first date and his confidence must have improved because he slyly tried a sneaky snog as I kissed his cheek goodnight.

I went home in the taxi, not sure how I felt about him. Company wise, he was a nice guy but did I fancy Harry? A second date seemed like a good way of finding out.

When he suggested seeing each other again I should have asked for somewhere public but mistakes happen. I knew I trusted him, he was a nice guy, instincts were putting two thumbs up and I felt safe. So I agreed to have dinner with him at his home. Unfortunately, I underestimated just how randy Horny Harry was. To be fair, I think he’d had guys talking in his ear before our first date telling him how he should go about getting laid.

Harry got carried away pretty quickly and unfortunately, I think his cock was working his brain that night.

Let me set the scene; we were watching a movie, having a bit of a cuddle and relaxing on the sofa. Suddenly, he went in for the kiss. I’ve had better kisses but it wasn’t the worst. Harry’s hands were everywhere and then, suddenly, he tries to move me. Apparently, the angle I was sitting at wasn’t the easiest for him to come at me so he kept lifting me up and plonking me somewhere he preferred. Resistance was futile!

imperfect traffic lightsHis hands roamed around to the top button of my trousers before sneaking to my bra strap. I couldn’t work out where they were going next and it made holding him off a complicated exercise, but when I told him to slow down he would. The guy wasn’t a sex pest, he was just ridiculously randy. From what he’d told me he hadn’t had a lot of action in his life so anything that looked like a green light probably made it hard for him to think beyond his cock.

Swiftly, he’d launched his lips awkwardly onto mine in a fierce attack that didn’t resemble easing the physical side forward slowly but was more about thrusting it in the only direction his throbbing cock could conceive.
These days, I would have just thrown him off and had a conversation about slowing down. Instead, I kept telling him that I would have to leave soon. The panic picked up the more he tried to undress me while smothering me with sloppy wet kisses. I felt like a human sex doll, just there for his pleasure, and all my attempts to slow him down were ineffective. Sex doll imperfect dating

Breaking point came. During a particularly uncomfortable moment of kissing, he simultaneously tried to shove his clumsy hands into my trousers and under my knickers while my fingers accidentally located swelling, pus-filled boils on the back of his head!

I quickly got up, thanked him for dinner, grabbed my stuff and ran as fast as an English person on hot, Caribbean beach sand.

Once I made it safely home I sent him a message, trying to let him down as gently as possible. His response to my message read something like…

Harry: Okay. I hope you still enjoyed yourself.

I should have replied, the guy already had low confidence. He didn’t need another kicking but I didn’t read the message properly when I first got it. When I read it again a couple of days later I was too late. I could have told him that I had and that he just wasn’t the guy for me. Instead, I was probably one of the many women who’d hurt him. I still feel crappy when I remember him. I hope somewhere in this world Horny Harry hasn’t got higher fences because of me and is happily getting all the sex and love he can cope with.

go for me pokemonWe all make mistakes and no one does the online dating thing perfectly.

If you like erotic romance stories, don’t forget you can download one of my stories, “(Pokemon) Go For Me,” for free from the blog and if you’ve missed any of the previous posts from my A-Z of Online Dating, click on “Select Category” in the right-hand column and select “A-Z Online Dating.”

(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.

H is for Heartbreak

Heartbreak doesn’t give you the warm and fuzzies does it?

With online dating, there will be heartbreak and it doesn’t hurt any less because it started virtually.

Mr Fumble was my first significant heartbreak. The name wasn’t a product of my experience with him. There was nothing fumble-like about his skills. The name arose when I chatted about him to a particular group of friends. I didn’t want to tell them what we really got up to so I said we fumbled and let them decipher the rest. This is the first time on this blog that I’ve relinquished my tell-all policy but with him some of my experiences will be remaining private.

Mr Fumble wasn’t always the easiest guy to message. Getting information and casual chat from him was akin to getting that last drop of ketchup out of a nearly empty bottle. He was reluctant to share too much and shy with the deeper stuff. Many weeks later, I realised why. Mr Fumble had been badly hurt in the past and to say his fences were up and high would be a massive understatement. The guy was damaged and wasn’t letting anyone in. The messages usually involved me asking questions about his day and what his work involved. The answers were short, surface stuff but he continued to answer, encouraging me to ask and revealing a little each day.

sexting heartbreakThe evening that the messages neared dirty, flirting territory I was so taken aback I thought I was reading them wrong. When he talked about the gooey centres of the cookies I was baking, the moistness of my brownies and how firm my muffins were, it was fiercely against character and anything we’d discussed previously. I genuinely thought he was a massive fan of baking. Eventually the sexual tease behind his words were revealed and flirting continued in earnest.

One evening, I passed on my number but he was reticent to use it, blaming phone signal and a crap phone.

Maybe as you read this a thought has arisen, “Come on Rebecca, there’s clearly something fishy about this guy.” I suspected the same, there seemed to be something crucial about him I didn’t know and couldn’t work out. I hope even now that he wasn’t married or a compulsive liar because I can’t be sure.

One of the problems with internet dating is that there are some things we may never know about the potentials we like. These things may be as significant as their real surname or past/current relationships.

When online dating, we have to trust our instincts and the advice of our wiser friends. We also need to remember to NEVER send money. There are some untrustworthy people out there and if something seems off then it probably is. If someone we’ve never met is declaring their love for us while asking for us to send money then we move on. I know, from experience that when our hearts get that fluttering, glowing feeling and excitement seems to be a daily thrill that we thought we’d never feel again then our judgement can be as useful as a chocolate condom. But having a clear head is a sad necessity.

Players and scoundrels don’t just frequent the online dating scene. I’ve also met some male and female villains in real life too. People who seem less than genuine are everywhere. Maybe you can think of those you know in your work or social circles who’ve cheated on their partners and have secret addictions to gambling, drugs and illicit encounters. It can take years for you to learn these secrets. Just because you meet someone online doesn’t mean you have to be ruthlessly suspicious of them but trusting your instincts is important.

hot guy heartbreakLet’s get back to Mr Fumble. Eventually, he did use my number and we began to text every day; during the day and a lot during the evenings. It wasn’t long before he was the last person I said goodnight to before my head hit the pillow and the first person I hoped for a message from when I woke. He almost always delivered. Messages included anything from cheeky thoughts to our deepest issues and life experiences.

The day he broached the idea of speaking on the phone I freaked out. I was too terrified and adamantly declined. The phone isn’t my ally at the best of times. I’m the kind of person who accidentally says “Kind Regards” at the end of an answer machine message then calls again to apologise for being an arse. But things changed. The decision to speak on the phone needed to be mine. After some days of consideration and no pressure from Mr Fumble we finally spoke. Hearing his voice gave me a smile that rose from my stomach up, eclipsing my entire body with a glow that had no chance of leaving. It was everything I’d been scared of hoping for. Within a couple of hours I was as happy as a teenage boy at a porn star convention.

A meeting after that was inevitable. In his typical closed way, he dropped some hints and in my excitement I welcomed them with open arms.

The day of our meeting started as a normal day for me until I got a text asking if I was still free because he could be there in two and a half hours.

Me: Yeah, sure. That would be great. See you soon.

AAAGGGGHHHH!!!!

I did the usual; shower, shave, moisturise, try on about forty different outfits, perfect make-up, sweat all the make-up off with stress and then attempt to apply it again. I was so nervous I thought I might vomit before he arrived. A massive ball of stress that resided in my intestines was growing at alarming rate. God forbid I’d have to speak to him!

The moment the doorbell rang I swept open the door and saw the coolest, dark haired epitome of sexiness standing in front of me.

Excitement exploded.

I was disarmed too. A date with Mr Fumble was something I should have prepared myself for mentally as well as physically.

kissing heartbreakAfter getting this far into the post you may have an image of me in your head. There may be some pre-conceptions about my personality and my behaviour. I shall leave you to them, I’m not keen to find them out. But my date with Mr Fumble will remain between me and him and the couple of people we may have told since.

All I shall let you know is that Mr Fumble arrived at midday on one day and left at midday the next. Over the course of that 24hour period, we had coffee, chatted, laughed, went for a walk, had dinner, chatted some more and spent the rest of the time…fumbling.

For those twenty-four hours, I was beaming with joy. I felt like I was at the start of something special.

But twenty minutes before he left I watched his fences go up. The Mr Fumble I’d spent the last day with disappeared and was replaced with a closed off, unrecognisable man. Walking out my house he politely said goodbye and promised to text when he got home. Just like that he was gone.

You may think I was the most gullible, naive idiot that ever walked the earth. I have thought that often enough myself. You may be certain that the contact was over, while secretly hoping for a happy ending. But H is for Heartbreak after all…

Locking the front door with a shaky hand and a heavy heart I thought I would never hear from him again. Mr Fumble was out of my life and would never be a part of it. I was wrong, to some extent. The messages flooded my phone as soon as he got home. We texted non-stop for the next two days.

Sadly, over the next five months his texts got more sporadic but never stopped until I told him to leave me alone. I was struggling to move on and he clearly didn’t want a relationship. On occasion, for about a year after, I continued to hear from him, until I decided to block him for a couple of weeks. I have no idea why he stayed in contact. It could have been a keenness for more fumbling or because he was bored. Whatever the true reason I never learnt it because I wouldn’t agree to see him again.

However much he annoyed and upset me, I will always have a fondness for Mr Fumble. In his defence, he never promised anything he wasn’t willing to give. Everything he gave me was incredible and life-changing. If I could do our initial texting, call and meet-up again, and I was still single, would I? Possibly. Being full of regrets is a fruitless experience.

I shed a lot of tears over him when he started distancing himself and then several more over the next months. Maybe my instincts and lack of experience did betray me. I guess only Mr Fumble knows the answer to that.

There has been heartbreak and many tears shed since him.

Friends wondered in the past, “How can you stay hopeful that you’ll find what you’re looking for?”

After my heart was broken my hope seemed to die for a while too. I have been left wondering what’s the point, how can I find what I’m looking for? Is there something wrong with me? After heartbreak, I used to stop dating and reassess because I don’t do rebound dating. But that’s a personal choice I made. I was told once, by a colleague, that rebound is the best time to date. I’ve seen people get hurt when we date on the rebound. It may give us validation and help us move on in the short term but it usually comes back to bite us on the arse.

After Mr Fumble made it clear that a relationship wasn’t going to happen I went straight back online. As a result I made some reckless and nearly dangerous decisions.

People jump back on to the apps and sites for many reasons, sometimes because it’s a simple need to get their end away. Sexual need is difficult to ignore especially when you’ve been getting it regularly. But if you just want to get your end away then be honest about it. Don’t deceive people into thinking you’re looking for more.

When I started writing this a while back my hope took a beating. It was inevitable after recalling and revisiting these experiences but then I met up with some friends who had met through online dating. They told me of their experience. There were familiar situations, for example one didn’t reply initially and distance caused a couple of issues. But a relationship slowly developed over chatting, meeting up and dating.

So, when I asked them, “How can I still have hope when I have heartbreak inside me?” I was told that you have to prepare for heartbreak when you date but then sometimes you get lucky and it does work out. At this point, they gave each other such a grin of nauseating joy that had I not been sticking my fingers down my throat I would have got caught up in it. It was a smile that only genuine, caring love lives in and was the display of encouragement I needed.

Fight for meSo, heartbreak does happen and it can temporarily destroy us. But H is for Hope too because online dating does work out, people keep trying and they enjoy themselves in the process. And one positive from Mr Fumble is that it gave me my love of men in military uniform, which helped inspire my erotic romance short story Fight For Me, which is available to download.

I’d love to know how you’ve dealt with heartbreak in dating. You can share your thoughts or experiences by commenting below or visiting my Facebook page.