connecting the dots by editing & writing erotica
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Eliza tapped her stylus on her tablet. She overlooked the notes that she was given to look over, before the meeting started.
Before Terrence walked in for his review.
Still lightly tapping the stylus, she knew that the meeting would not start until she gave the okay. With careful deliberation, she looked up, and her assistant walked over to the door and asked Terrence to come in.
As soon as he looked at her, Eliza imagined what it would be like if he spread her over the table in the conference room. She was in charge now, but if he spread her against that table, he would be in charge. But even though she was thinking that, her face remained plain as her assistant closed the door behind him and she placed her tablet on the table.
She let her colleagues begin the meeting, and she followed each point with her stylus on her tablet.
“Eliza has been working the closest with you, and she said she was especially impressed with your performance in Paris,” Loretta began, and looked at Eliza.
Eliza lifted her head from her tablet, smiled at Loretta and began speaking to Terrence.
“I was extremely impressed to see everything that you accomplished in Paris. It was everything that we hired you for, and let me know that you were a hard worker and a team player which now? I can say I was not sure about in New York. But the team tells me that since Paris it has been really great working with you and socializing with you at company functions.”
“Exactly! Terrence, we are excited to promote you to team leader. You will be working very closely with Eliza, and you will be more hands on with the team. Congratulations!”
Terrence smiled and looked between both women.
“Thank you both, I am really honored and happy to work closer with Eliza and the team.”
“Let’s have lunch, a celebratory lunch with the team.” Loretta said.
Eliza sat through lunch, and purposely let the team sit with Terrence as she talked mostly to her other colleagues. There was champagne, and she was a little tipsy. After lunch, she called Terrence into her office.
“Close the door behind you,” she commanded.
Terrence did as he was told.
Picking up her tablet and stylus again, she looked at Terrence.
“I wanted to show you my notes, to show you all the decision making I made so that you do not think that this promotion…”
Terrence stood close to her, and she could tell that he had something to prove as well.
Eliza looked at him, but he avoided her eyes.
“In Paris,” he continued. “You were a little tipsy and you told me that I had far exceeded your expectations. Don’t you remember, or I am flattered if everything that happened after made you forget…”
They looked at each other at the same time.
“I remember everything,” she said, and placed her hands on either side of her on her desk. “I just wanted you to know, I am happy we will be working closer together because I think you are really good at what you do.”
“I know,” he leaned in, and smiled at her. “Thank you.”
Eliza wanted him, but it was the middle of the day and her position was too high up for a bathroom tryst now. Terrence nodded at her, and the darkness in his eyes before he stepped back let her know they were both in need.
“Is that all for now?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow and thick voice.
“Yes,” she panted.
He nodded, and walked out. She watched his strong back stride out the door, and knew later she would tell him her mental notes that were not on her tablet…
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tablet via wikipedia
Nichy looked at Tyler over her wine glass. She told him that she wanted to talk to him over drinks.Because she had needed to tell Graham what she was going to do. To tell him that she was going to tell Tyler about their relationship.
“He asked, and I do not want to lie to him about what we were.”
“What we were?” Graham asked her.
Nixhy looked down at the floor, and saw Graham’s shoes close to her own heels on the ground.
“Yes, what we were.”
“Are you going to tell him about what was going on a few weeks ago?”
“No.”
“So selective Nusch, so selective.”
Nichy looked up at Graham.
“And you are going to tell him everything about you and Sonia?” he added, as if it were a cross-examination.
“I am telling you this, because I wanted to be honest with you and you are trying to sabotage me.”
Graham pulled her close to him.
“You usually like when I sabotage you.Why won’t you look at me? ”
She looked at him, and regretted that she did.
He moved in and kissed her, and she had no resistance. Her legs were wrapped around his waist within moments, and she cried out realizing that he did give her pleasure that was not comparable. She scratched and clawed at him, and pounded him because she hated herself for being with him.
He returned her fervor.
“No, you can’t leave marks on me!” she cried.
Nichy sat up, and Graham slipped in and out of her. She kept hitting her head against the head of the bed, as he thrusted. She whimpered, and cried out from pleasure and from the pain of knowing she had not resisted him. Secretly she probably wanted him, to remember what he did to her and that was why she had asked him there.
He pulled her close to him, and she was messy with his come because she had not used a condom with him. He played with her dripping with him, and she gyrated with sensitivity.
In the bathroom, she had looked at herself and got ready to meet Tyler.
Now looking over her wine glass at Tyler, she felt like she was in a Hitchcockian film.
Graham had followed her there, it was almost like it should be named Sabotage like the Hitchcock film, which was also called The Woman Alone.
But she was anything but alone…
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movie poster via wikipedia
More Sinful Sunday here:
“What is on your bucket list?”
Eliza gulped. She squeezed Rafe’s arm, and smiled at the random guest at her company’s cocktail party who had asked her. She had nothing but smiles, because everybody was somebody tonight and she was there to dazzle.
“Bucket list, fucket list,” Rafe whispered into her ear. “Really, is that the best conversation that someone can come up with?”
They laughed, and then they walked up to another guest.
Terrence walked up to her and Rafe, and he was not alone. Eliza smiled a tight smile, as she watched him walk over with another colleague. He told her he would be there with someone else and that it was casual, but it was startling to actually see him with her. Their company was big, so it was even more surprising to her that she did not know this woman.
“Ms. Morton, it is such a pleasure to meet you! I am Micha from the Paris office!”
Eliza smiled at the woman who stood beside Terrence and beamed at her. She now remembered having met the woman in Paris while she was there with Terrence.
“Micha, of course, a pleasure to see you again and in the States!”
“I was pleased that Terrence invited me! And it is nice to be here for a pleasurable event, and not just straight meetings!”
“Of course,” Eliza smiled, and turned to Rafe “This is my fiancé Rafe.”
“A pleasure to meet you Micha, and Terrence is it?” Rafe said.
Terrence nodded, and extended his hand to Rafe. The cocktail banter continued a bit more, until Terrence gave Eliza a return tight smile.
“He wants to fuck you.” Rafe said so plainly, Eliza almost choked on her scotch.
“Sorry?”
“I mean, I am not surprised—a lot of your male colleagues clearly want to—but he was with this Micha and he could not stop staring at you. I am sure if you check his pants, he is getting probably hard as fuck.”
“Rafe!”
She was not sure how to act, as she looked at Terrence out of the corner of her eye.
“Liza, you are not with me because I do not tell you the straight deal.”
He gulped his scotch like water, and her insides quivered from the truth and hidden passion.
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image via wicked wednesday
Nichy could have been lulled by watching Tyler get dressed in the morning, she could have been completely lulled and aroused my watching him put on clothes that transformed him into a professional man in a suit. She had not moved yet, because she was going to be working from home, and was still assembled as her how she looked when she had been making love with Tyler all night. Naked and covered sloppily in a sheet.
Her entire body was sore with their lovemaking. Her mouth felt stretched out from the myriad of times she had him in her mouth.
She could still taste him.
Her skin was sweetly burned from his stubble, and she could not even touch her clit because it was far too sensitive to touch from overstimulation. Her ass felt stretched out, because they had had anal sex twice. Once at the party, and again when they got home.
Nichy had been fucked senseless, but that did not mean that she was not aware that Tyler was still hiding something from her. There had been something on his mind and he had not shared it with her. Pulling the sheet over her breasts resurrected the sweet soreness that she felt across them and she caressed one under the sheet.
“So are you going to tell me what is wrong?”she asked, looking up at him.
Tyler came to the edge of the bed, and looked down at her.
“What?”
“I know something was wrong and you fucked me hoping I would not notice but I did. I assume it is not something I did, because you would not have fucked me so well if you were mad at me.”
“His name was Graham? This ex that you were telling me about?”
Nichy froze, but nodded softly.
“Sonia must have told you?”
Tyler knelt onto the bed with her.
“No, not like she was trying to get you in trouble, but she was drinking and she mentioned him and was surprised I did not know his name.”
Nichy nodded.
Secretly, she was glad that all of this had come out in the open, but she was now not sure what he knew and what he did not know. Why did they even have to think about Graham when her body was still so affected by Tyler and their lovemaking?
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alma-tadema via wikipedia
More Sinful Sunday here:
I am literally gushing! I love hosting my friends, and I am gushing all over K D Grace right now! I met her when I attended my first Eroticon, and she was so lovely and gracious. I developed a friendship with her, and it is something I really treasure because I admire her so much. Between two continents, we have managed to stay in constant contact. So when she comes out with a book she wants to promote? I am onboard because she is my friend, and because she has the chops! She is so prolific, and The Tutor demonstrates that–let KD tell you all about it!!!
What Does it Feel Like?
That must have felt amazing! I can’t imagine how that felt! I wonder what that felt like? Oooh! That couldn’t have felt very good! Did you feel that? What does it feel like? How many times have we asked someone, that big F question? We don’t usually mean what does something physically feel like, when we use one of the F phrases. Most of the time any of the “feel like” phrases means we want that experience, we want to understand, to empathize, to share it, to let someone know we get their experience and if we don’t, at least we’d like to try.
The feeling phrases are connecting phrases, they’re a mode in which we commiserate with the rest of the human race, they’re a chance to be more intimate with each other. In a lot of ways they’re like the secret password that gets us into “Club Human.” We seldom think of them in terms of true physicality, though when something is physical, we tend to think of it as far more real than when it’s just a nebulous idea or emotion that “touches us.”
And when the feeling, the touching words are meant in a physical way, the somehow seem more intimate. Physical touch isn’t just for anyone, it’s for people we trust, people we know a little better, people we might want to know a whole lot better. But what happens when two people who are attracted to each other can’t actually touch? Can they still find a way to be intimate? What exactly is intimacy anyway, and is it really dependent on being able to touch each other physically? I wanted to explore the elements of intimacy in my novel, The Tutor. How much of what binds us to someone and what makes us close depends on being able to physically touch?
In my novel The Tutor, I wanted to explore what it feels like when someone can’t feel, in the literal sense of the word. Renowned, but reclusive, sculptor Alexander “Lex” Valentine, is extremely haphephobic. Since the car accident that took his mother’s life when he was a child and nearly took his as well, he had been unable to tolerate the touch of another human being, nor is he able to touch anyone himself. To do so causes a severe physical reaction. Lex lives in a world of forced isolation for his own protection.
Enter Kelly Blake – struggling novelist moonlighting as a sex tutor, who has a completely hands-off policy with her clients. Kelly is just what Lex needs, and when the two meet, the sparks fly. But is it possible intimacy to develop and love to grow when two people can’t touch each other?
When physical touch is impossible, intimacy may become a powerful work of art or a devastating nightmare—but, above all, it’s an act of trust.
Here is a little excerpt.
What Does it Feel Like?
“Look I don’t expect you to deal with what a fucked up mess I am. I realized that what I really want to know is what it feels like, what you feel like, what any woman feels like when she’s with a man, or even when she touches herself, and I have no one I would feel comfortable asking without wondering the whole time if they thought that by my asking I had given them permission to try and fix me. Does that make any sense?”
She had little time to do more than nod before he continued. “Oh I’ve watched enough porn that I get that it feels really good. I’ve read enough erotica to get some picture of how it’s supposed to be, but my take on it’s always one-sided,” he raised his hand and wiggled his fingers as though to demonstrate. “I can’t know anything but my own touch, certainly I can’t feel anything else, so I want you to tell me. I want you to answer my questions. I want you to tell me what I would feel if I touched you, what you would feel if I touched you. As for what I would feel if you touched me, well,” he shrugged and offered her a smile that seemed slightly forced, “for that I’ll just have to use my imagination.”
She took a deep breath, as though she were about to dive under water. “Okay, well, I’ll start with my lips because lovers often start there. I would have made sure they were moist for you before you kissed them, but not so wet as to be off-putting, and you would have done the same. And your first kisses would be tentative, if you’re really good, almost like a feather lighting against my mouth softly and repeatedly until I’m breathless for the want of more; and then I would part my lips to give you more surface area so that we could feel each other better.” She chuckled softly as she realized they’d both raised their fingers to their mouths. “And then we would both press harder and rub harder. The more surface area we touched the more we’d want and, I think lips swell, not just from the pressure, but in an effort to create that surface area, and when they can swell no more, when I feel like I want to completely take my lover into my mouth, then I would open to him and there would be a whole new surface area, wet and slick and warm, there would be a whole new motion when our tongues discover each other. I think a kiss reflects what happens in penetrative sex. It’s sort of an intimation, if you will,” her gaze locked on him, and for the first time she noticed just how blue his eyes were, “a promise of things to come.”
“Yes,” he whispered. “I’ve thought of that in my art. I’ve thought of the interchange we make with mouths and cocks and vaginas.” He struggles with the last word
“It’s okay to call it a pussy or a cunt or whatever works for you.” She said.
He laughed softly. “How the hell would I know?”
“Well,” she stretched out on the countertop and rolled onto her side, resting her head on her hand. “you just have to try them out and see how they fit your mouth.”
This time they both laughed. “If they fit my mouth, I wouldn’t have to worry about what words I used, would I?”
“Good point,” she said.
“Not quite, but getting there fast, thank you.” Again, they both laughed, a strangely relaxed laugh under the bizarre circumstances.
“The thing is,” she said, rolling onto her back and staring up at the long rack of copper bottom pans above her head, “words are often as important in sex, and as erotic, as touch. I write in my other life, and I find that while some of my characters get turned on by waxing poetic between the sheets, others get hot by talking dirty.”
“How does your cunt feel when some fucker talks dirty to you,” he said, though not without a hearty blush.
“That would depend on the fucker and the circumstances and how badly I wanted to ride his cock.”
“And if it was a fucker whose cock you really wanted to ride, a fucker who was hard and heavy for you? What words would he use, and what response would he elicit?
“It wouldn’t hurt for him to observe out loud what he sees about my body’s state of arousal, and how he admires it.”
“You mean like how lovely your breasts are when your nipples are so taut that even your areola are visible through that shirt, which I imagine feels like a caress every time you inhale. You mean like the way your lips are parted and moist. You’ve not completely shut your mouth for the past five minutes, the way you rock your hips, almost but not quite secretly, and grind you bottom against the countertop. Is that what you mean?”
“Jesus! We shouldn’t be doing this.” She sat bolt upright on the surface and then froze as though someone had hit the pause button. “Alex?”
The man perched on the edge of the counter, just far enough away that she couldn’t easily touch him. He had kicked his shoes off and his own nipples peaked to bullet points through his white polo shirt. That would have been enough to hold her attention indefinitely had it not been for the heel of his hand stroking the very obvious, very anxious erection through his jeans.
It was all right. It was fine, she told herself. She’d had more than a few occasions where her job involved watching and coaching someone while they masturbated. This was just her job. That’s all.
“It’s more obvious with me what I feel,” he said, raking her body with a hooded gaze. “And your nipples, well you could just be cold. Please tell me what you feel when you see me like this, when we talk like this.”
She moved to the edge of the counter giving him space, then motioned him onto it and she opened her leg. “If I weren’t wearing trousers, if you could see my panties, you’d know that I’m wet.” She nodded to his erection. “You’d know that the thought of what you’re doing, the sight of how your body is responding to mine, is making me wetter.” She cupped her breasts in turn, through the white blouse. “Every part of me feels heavy, Alex. My breasts feel like my bra can no longer contain them. My nipples ache. And my lips,” she touched her mouth, and then, holding his gaze, moved her hand down to rest on the crotch of her trousers. “My lips are swollen, so swollen and slippery and ready to be penetrated.” She nodded first to his mouth and then to his erection. “Do I want the fucker to give it to me hard and deep in my cunt? What do you think?”
“Oh God,” he managed. Then he stopped talking altogether. His breath came in tight little grunts and gasps as he moved against his hand, holding her in his gaze as surely as if he held her in his embrace; and it was in that instant, the instant she slid her hand down the front of her trousers and into her panties an action he mirrored, that she knew neither of them would make it out of here intact. She wanted to run, but she didn’t. She wanted to take off her clothes and feel his gaze all over her body, but she didn’t. She wanted to demand that he strip for her, that he come just for her eyes, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. She could only cup and grope her breasts until they hurt. She could only stroke herself while she watched him do the same.
The space around them crackled with their energy, and their desperate efforts to breathe were the only sounds beyond the stroke of skin against fabric. In a hungry attempt at relief, they both rocked and bucked, mirror images of each other with one hand down the front of their trousers while the other groped and cupped and tweaked and pinched whatever part of their anatomy it came in contact with. Then breathing stopped, time stopped. Everything around them disappeared until they saw nothing but each other, locked in each other’s gaze, more physical than any embrace Kelly had ever felt, and it was enough. Heaven help them, it was enough. He came first by a split second, roaring like a wounded lion, arching back until she feared he’d either break his neck or fall off the counter. But the sight of him so vulnerable in his passion, the fact that even in his release, he kept his eyes on her was all she could handle, and she convulsed against her own hand, convulsed as though she would break apart, never taking her eyes off him, never breaking that connection.
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About K D Grace/Grace Marshall
Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked coast to coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also working out at the gym – she has a thing for kettle bells — reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.
K D has erotica published with Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.
Find K D Here:
Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/
http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk Facebook
“I just want to romance you, not have to rush with you. I guess in Paris we did, but now. I want to take my time with you…”Eliza was limp, and pressed to the bathroom sink. What had happened between her and Terrence had been fast and furious. In its way, it was romantic to her, because she had not imagined that she would feel this way about him. She had not imagined that Terrence would feel like this–that she would feel the way that she felt about him.
She could not have imagined that she would have let him romance her the way he had in Paris. From the time that they got there, she felt something. It was not that she was swooning, but she was attracted to him in some sort of way and maybe she had let herself he vulnerable so that she could end up in bed with him.
“Right now is romance–I never needed candlelight and flowers and candy. I like it fast and crazy like what we just did.”
Terrence caressed her bare thigh, and Eliza shivered sweetly from the chill of the bathroom sink on her ass.
“You are beautiful like this,” he said, slipping his hand between her ass and the sink. He kissed her neck, Eliza saw him cover her in the mirror behind the sink, and the image was captured like film. She would remember this in her most private moments, and it would be the most romantic thing ever.
More Wicked Wednesday here:
romance via wicked wednesday
Tyler guided Nichy through the party, his hand at the small of her back. She needed his support after their encounter in the dark corner, she realized licking the fake blood on her mouth and getting a taste of K-Y jelly by accident.
The Doors were playing overhead as they indeed broke on through to the other side of the door, and out of the party.
Tyler covered her like summer outside, hot, sultry and almost stifling. The heat between them was palpable. Whatever he wanted, she wanted because he was in a mood and her body was his for the taking. Whatever he needed, she would be it, she could be it.
She looked up at him, and saw how he looked at her. His gaze was vulnerable and tender, in a way that tugged at all her vulnerable spots. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she knew he would tell her or not. But being there, being a body, being his was enough at the moment.
“Do you want to go?” she asked him, as if it were a code for something else.
“Do you?”
“What can happen inside there, that can be any more thrilling than you inside me?”
Tyler pressed her more the cold brick of the house, and Nichy went soft with the heat and hardness of him against her. She ached for him, and pulled him closer to her. His backside tensed under her palms.
“You want it out here, in the dark? With the bats flying around?”
The moon was bright in his eyes, and she followed where his finger pointed. There were indeed bats, and all manner of other nocturnal creatures were probably rampant too.
“Yes, I want it here with the bats flying around us.”
He kissed her so hard, she was breathless and she felt her nipple slip out of her corset. Her head hit the brick over and over again as he kissed her and then got fake blood on his face. He slipped his fingers in her and she wrapped her arms about him because her knees shook so bad with nerves and pleasure as he did. He knew the rhythm to drive her over the edge, and as a bat flew high in the sky, Nichy came so hard that she hit her head against the brick and feared she was unconscious. But the sweet tightening between her legs let her know she was alert…
…and wanted more.
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goya via wikipedia