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Wicked Wednesday #171 — Summer

Eliza rolled onto her side, her arm fell across Rafe’s chest that felt like summer to her. Their post-lovemaking felt like summer, she felt moist and sultry beside him. His body was so familiar to her, every touch felt like lovemaking so that when they did make love it was on another level. He grabbed her hand with a neediness that she had never felt from him before. It broke her heart on so many levels, to feel the emotion in his touch. When he entered her, it felt like he wanted to stay and never leave.

But she was not so sure that she wanted him to stay.

She rolled onto her side and out of the bed, wanting to be alone. Just for a moment. The tiles of the bathroom floor felt like cubes of ice beneath the soles of her feet. The mirror greeted her with her fresh, roughly fucked countenance and hair. Her reflection disappeared when she sat on the toilet to pee, and she did not look back at the mirror when she stood back up.

When she got back into the bed, Rafe wrapped his arms about her. Eliza settled into his embrace. She was just about to fall asleep, when his phone buzzed. Her heavy eyes lifted, and she reached for it.

Sandrine.

She typed in Rafe’s password which was “allies,” since using her name would be too easy for someone to guess.
Are you with her?
Eliza read the text, before she typed.
Yes.
This afternoon was a mistake, everything was a mistake Rafe. You need to stay with her…
Eliza put the phone back down.

Everything was bringing them back together, but she did not know if she wanted it. The feeling of summer in an air-conditioned hotel room from the intensity of their lovemaking. She was not sure that she wanted the fire that they always were together.

Even with Sandrine conceding for a second time.

She remembered the first time that Sandrine conceded. Rafe told her he would love Sandrine forever, the same way he would never stop loving her.

“The difference is, ” he told her that summer. “is that I want to be married to you eventually.”

The gleam of her engagement ring in her periphery vision, made her pick it up. Rafe had said that he wanted to marry her years before he proposed to her…

…and then he eventually proposed to her. The proof was sparkling between her fingers.

Usually when they made love, they got back together. She never expected to make love with him, get filled with all the summery feelings that he left her with and not know if they were going to get back together again.

If she wanted to be back together again.

Somewhere after those thoughts, she fell asleep and woke up shivering. Suddenly it was winter, she was freezing cold, even in Rafe’s embrace. He was cold and she was still trying to assess if he was breathing, because his body felt so cold. He did not snore, but his soft breath changed the rhythm of her heartbeat and she closed her eyes.

Morning would have the answer as to which season she wanted to live in.
More summer here:

garden photo by f dot leonora

Guest Blogger Spencer Dryden Talks Ray Guns, Mermaids and Robots!

It is my pleasure to host Spencer Dryden today. Spencer contributed to my Sex Stories 2: Erotic Tales of Naughty Play. He has quite the sense of humor, which was a welcome addition to the anthology. When he asked me if he could talk about his new novel on my blog, it was my absolute pleasure. Without further ado…

I’m promoting my new novella, The Memory of Mermaids from Fireborn Publishing. I am particularly delighted to be here today, as my very distinguished host gave me my first entry into the publishing world. We became acquainted when Leonora put out a call for submissions for an anthology she edited, Sex Stories 2: Erotic Tales of Naughty Play.It is still one of the the top ten sellers in the Anthology category for Ravenous Romance, after two years. The “Gueschtunkina Ray Gun” of course, continues to drive sales of this collection. It was the first story I ever submitted to an anthology, and among one of the very first pieces I wrote. But I told myself that there was no way the editor could exclude a story about the most powerful sex toy in the universe. One blast from the Gueschtunkina Ray Gun renders any woman into a state of extreme sexual arousal…

You’ll have to read it yourself to know.
Mermaids has been through several rewrites, but the core story remains the same. It was built around the premise of what could/would happen if an ordinary guy living in the world today encountered a mythical being. So if I have a word of hope to offer to any new writers out there, don’t give up on a good story. I knew this dog would hunt. I still don’t know if it will sell, that’s why I’m out flapping my arms as hard as I can, trying to fly. (Wish I could get my hands on Dumbo’s magic feather.)
I also did something risky in writing this story that most writing coaches would discourage. I didn’t do a lick of research. Not only have I never read a mermaid story, I haven’t even seen The Little Mermaid. In the beginning I had only two scenes in my head, the opening scene in which my MC rescues a mermaid from the clutches of a sea monster and the climactic scene where she rescues him. I decided against filling my head with mermaid lore and other mermaid stories, for fear it would bleed into my writing. I wanted to preserve the awe, innocence, confusion, and wonder my character would experience in meeting a mermaid. If the story succeeds I think it will be for that reason. I discovered mermaids myself through the revelations that came as I wrote the story.
My fear of course, is that there is some jury out there that regulates all mermaid stories, and mine will be rejected out of hand for violating sacred principles of mermaids. The way robots have to follow the rules set out by Isaac Asimov, from all those years ago. I’ve got a robot in the second installment of my ray gun trilogy who hasn’t read Asimov. Actually it’s just the brain of the robot stuffed into a ventriloquist’s dummy. He’s a lot of fun. But I’m not pitching that story yet…
Anyway, thanks so much for spending a few minutes with me. I am not only happy to be here today, I’m so grateful for that first publication by Leonora.

Masturbation Monday No. 53

“Simi.”  Nichy heard Dorian’s soft Welsh accent luring her attention back to him.
As if he already knew she was lost as Gavin walked toward them.
“Nichy?”
Gavin did not sound angry, which made Nichy feel even more remorse at the situation.
“Gavin?” she answered him.
“I knew that it was an overwhelming last few days, but you did not have to leave without telling me. You could have told me…” “Gavin..”
“I was just telling Ilona’s husband, he is staying here. That is why I am here. I was telling him that I probably scared you off…that was why you left after the baby was born…” “Gavin, I do not even know what to say, where to start…”
He stared between her and Dorian.
“It is not Sim-Nichy’s fault. I am an old friend of hers, I saw her and demanded she come up to my suite for a drink,” Dorian said coming to her rescue.
“It felt a little overwhelming Gavin. I left without fanfare, because I did not want it to be about me. I saw Dorian and he invited me up for a drink while I was going home.”
She looked at Gavin, before grasping his hand, caressing the inside of his palm with her fingertips.
“Nichy, we are heading back to the hospital,” he squeezed her hand back. “I will see you.”
Nichy felt herself reach for him as he walked away, but realized that she had to let him go. She had to respect what he was feeling.
“Are you going to go after him?”
Nichy turned on her heel to look at Dorian. She could see that he was sincere, but it was what he had done that got her in this situation in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” Dorian said, as if he could read her thoughts.
She looked down at her hands, and thought about how damp her panties were when she went to the bathroom before they left the room. Soaking because of Dorian giving her head so good, she thought she was going to faint when he made her come so hard. So hard, she held her hand to her head remembering it.
“Are you hungry, do you want something to eat before I take you home?” “I am not hungry.”
“Simi…”
“It is Nichy now…” She put her hand up to his face, caressed his stubble. “I am sorry too.” Nichy had watched Gavin disappear through the doors, with an attractive man in a suit pulling a carry-on. She did not stand too close to Dorian, she knew that Gavin would still be looking. They made an attractive couple, she and Dorian had been one of those couples that everyone envied.
It was such a risk to be with him now, with all that happened and all the reasons why she had had to leave him.
But it was hard as hell to leave him now.
Even as she let Gavin go because she knew he needed to be on his own, she was also not quite ready to leave Dorian. They walked outside, his driver pulled up and got out of the car to open the door for both of them. Nicky got into the car, knowing she flashed anybody who was walking by and cared to look. Would they see how damp the crotch of her panties was in that quick glimpse?
Between her legs was cool when she closed them from the dampness. Dorian got in beside her, the feeling of his thigh against hers made her wetter.
There was nothing for them to say to each other. What did you say, when you had been abducted by your ex, who you had to leave for reasons that you still could not tell him and saw the guy that you were currently hooking up with in the hotel where you were held hostage?
Nichy looked out of the window, and placed her hand on Dorian’s thigh out of familiarity. She turned to look at him right away, his eyes already on her.
“Do you want me to remain a gentleman?” he asked, his hand over hers.
His accent was thick with restrained lust. Nichy looked down, and unbuckled his belt. He put his hand out to stop her, but she put the strap of his belt in her mouth and looked up at him. He slumped, sinking into the plush cushion of the seat as he helped her pull down his pants. There was already pre-come on his crown, and she licked it quickly to honor him. Every stroke of her tongue along his length was an act of reverence for her. The familiarity of the act soothed her, was sacred to her as she held his thighs. Her eyes watered as he bucked up deeper into his mouth, she wanted it deep.
She wanted to be messy from pleasuring him.
Her hand reached inside her soaking panties, cool and warm with a new wave of lust.
“Sim-Nich—“
He did not even know what to call her when he came.
Nichy pulled away from him sated, with specks of come all over her. Grabbing the tissue box from near the mini bar, she dabbed at her mouth.
“I owed you,” she said, her eyes slit blinded by the moon.

More Masturbation Monday here:

full moon via wikipedia

Sinful Sunday Week 230: Plum Healing

Re-inspired by Charlie, I wrote a new sticky note post. Part of the inspiration, was the curved cut that is on my index finger. Below, my healing cut against my plum dress…

More Sinful Sunday here:

Guest Blogger Jillian Boyd is Out of This World!!!

I am honored to have Jillian Boyd as my guest today, she is an amazing editor and writer…simply out of this world!!! Without hesitation, here she is:

I adore sci-fi. Like, really blimmin’ adore it. It’s a genre with a seemingly endless scope, a genre that fits in with many of the other genres I’ve come to love as a reader. A space station romance? You got it. A terrifying, unknown creature from a distant planet, stalking unsuspecting victims? Shut up and take my money. Space westerns? Curse your sudden yet inevitable betrayal! Ahem.

But for me as a writer, sci-fi has always felt a bit like both a gift and a curse. You have the whole universe to play with. To shape and manifest your wildest dreams and most horrid nightmares in whatever pocket of time and space you want it to be set. It’s such an immense power… and I had somehow managed to convince myself that sci-fi was way, WAY beyond what I was capable of writing.

So when House of Erotica posted a call for submissions for a sci-fi erotica themed anthology, I spent a good while dismissing it. I could do erotica, of course – it’s all I’ve been blimmin’ doing for the past three years. But my strengths lie in contemporary erotica! I can’t do genre like that!

I repeated those two sentences in my head for about a month. And then I had a thought.

Earlier in the year, I went to see a movie called Ex Machina. It tells the story of a programmer who is invited by his employer to administer the Turing test to an android with artificial intelligence. The movie is, in essence, a three-hander between the programmer, the employer and the android, named Ava.

I was quite taken by the movie, and the basic idea of someone being asked to administer a Turing test (in the end, I was also inspired by the similar, but fictional Voigt-Kampff test from Blade Runner) to an AI android stuck in my head. Also, around that time, the British TV channel Channel 4 was in the early stages of promotion for a series called Humans – it’s not where I got the title of the story from, but the notion of a parallel present in which AI androids are mass-marketed as home help blended in with the Turing test idea.

Maybe… just maybe… I could actually write something that wasn’t in my safe contemporary erotica comfort zone?

The end result is a story called Human. It’s set in the very near future, just 20 years from now. No utopian society, no dystopian destruction. It’s London as we know it now, but the technology has advanced. London has always felt a bit lonely to me – I’ve lived here for three years now and I can testify to the fact that you can easily go an entire day without having a conversation with anyone. I tapped in to that feeling of loneliness for my main character, a robotics engineer named Kit Calhoun.

A kid of parents from my generation, she got into science and robotics due to her innate sense of curiosity. She wants to help technology evolve, but is frustrated that things are evolving so quickly without her having been a part of it. It’s a feeling that, even though this story is set in the near future, is occurring to plenty of 80s and 90s kids right now – the last generation before the internet became such an intrinsic part of our lives. Kit, like me, often finds solace in the things she remembers from growing up, like repeats of old TV shows she used to watch, and big bowls of cheesy pasta.

When she gets called to the offices of George Adaire, a brilliant young scientist who, a year before the story is set, was one of the people involved in a terrifying accident in the (at that point in time) disused Piccadilly Circus underground station, Kit is surprised to find out that George wants her help on a personal project he’s developing in secret…

—

Human Excerpt:

“February 18th, 2035. National Cyber Line London, basement vaults. My name is Kathleen Dale Calhoun, employee of In Media Res Technology London. This is session one of a proposed seven sessions with the fully humanoid android named ADI-208X, in which I will attempt to determine whether this prototype could, one day, be mass-produced as a viable sexual surrogate, either on its own, or via allowing its users to physically and mentally link up with the specimen and conduct full physical relationships with their partners using the specimen as a middle-man. Well, middle-bot, really.”

Kit flicked her hand and adjusted the hover cam, bringing George into view. He gave a small, silly wave, leaving her repressing the urge to giggle.

“I will be assisting Mr. George Adaire, as it is his creation, and hopefully we can make this project work as well as he has intended it to. All progress will be filmed by hover cams, with footage to be used as evidence, if need be. The first six sessions will focus on seeing whether ADI-208X can viably function on its own, with the focus shifting towards the neuro-link set up at the end of the proposed set.”

One finger-click later and the camera whirred as it shut down and descended onto the table. Kit grabbed the cam and followed George down the hallway. In the basement vaults, where George had his own experiment room, state-of-the-art LED Plus lights tinged the white walls a pleasant shade of soft blue. They hummed as they made their way to a door at the end of the corridor, marked with the word ADAIRE on a small gilt plaque.

One hand scan later, Kit stepped into the room and came face to face with what she’d only seen on blueprints so far. Instinctively, she grabbed on to the nearest stable object she could find for support… which, in situation, happened to be George’s shoulder.

“Kit Calhoun, meet ADI-208X. And maybe hold on to the table instead of my shoulder… you’re squeezing a bit tightly.”

“Oh,” she breathed, retracting her hand and unconsciously rubbing her fingers as she took in the sight in front of her. “Sorry.”

She turned to him just in time to see his own hand lingering on the shoulder she had touched, a breath hanging in the air. Then he continued.

“In the file you were given, you should be able to find most of the important technical information. Speech patterns, voice recognition, skin materials and so forth. You clearly know how to work a hover cam, so any information that somehow doesn’t make it on to your notes, you’ll be able to access via recording – these ones download directly onto any attached computer system, so you’ll be able to keep recording for… well, quite some time. I’ll be in the next room, observing on the monitors, and I also have the controls to the polygraph. If you need any assistance from me or sense that something’s going wrong – or even if you feel like you can’t go on with this – there’s a button under the table. Push it, and I’ll come.”

Kit nodded, trying to ignore the flutter in the pit of her belly, the little devil on her shoulder that chirped you don’t have a clue what you’re doing in her ear. Her palms felt sweaty and she almost, almost whimpered for George to please just stay in the room. Almost. Because deep down, she did know what she was doing. And she knew that she was about to do it damn well, too.

“Booting up specimen. He should be online in a few seconds.”

George’s voice crackled over the intercom. She could practically hear him grin in the other room. And he had every reason to. Because not two seconds later, ADI-208X hummed to life in front of her own eyes.

“Good morning. I am ADI-208X. What’s your name, miss?”

—

I.Lover – a sexy sci-fi erotica anthology from House of Erotica. Five scintillating science fiction erotica stories, spanning across galaxies and times for your pleasure. The future is bright. The future is erotic.

Featuring stories from Jillian Boyd, Jessica Taylor, Jim Lyon, John Bauer and Helen J. Perry.

Buy I.Lover from the following places:

All Romance eBooks

Jillian is awesome, and will give copies away of I.Lover and Flappers, Jazz and Valentino! Answer this question: Who plays the part of the android Ava in the movie Ex Machina, the movie she saw? Leave your answers in the comments, first and second commenters will get a copy of one anthology. Third time is a charm, so I will give away a copy of Spy Games to the third commenter! Good luck!!!

Tantalizing Guest Blogger Tamsin Flowers Talks Money Shot and Paris!!!

It’s a huge pleasure to be here on F.’s blog today as she’s one of my favorite people in the erotica writing community—unstintingly supportive and charming beyond measure. She’s invited me over to celebrate the publication of a new story of mine in Money Shot, a new big-box bundle from Excite Spice.

The thing is, I knew from the start that F. would love this story. That’s not me being cocky—I knew she’d love Scaling the Heights because of its setting. She’s made no secret of the fact that she absolutely adores Paris, so I knew that a slice of Parisian erotica featuring two of the most iconic sites in the City of Lights would immediately appeal.

I have to say, I love Paris too. I first went there on my first grown-up holiday with my first boyfriend, and I’ve been back I don’t know how many times since. It’s the most romantic city I know, knocking Venice out of the water for my money and beating Marrakesh, Vienna, Amsterdam or any other city you care to mention. What is it about Paris that captivates? Je ne sais quois! The food, the wine, the architecture, obviously. A whiff of Gauloises on the street, that particular French shrug of the shoulder… I don’t know but I can’t get enough of it.

“The guidebook says that to truly know a city you must plumb its depths and scale its heights,” said Thomas. “I think that holds true of people, too. Plumb their depths to scale their heights…”

So what’s the story? On a luxurious trip to Paris, Roisin discovers her new billionaire boyfriend is a Dominant and wants her to be his sub. It’s a world she knows nothing about and after her first taste of punishment, she’s not sure it’s a role she wants to embrace. But Thomas is irresistible and she’s caught in his thrall like a startled deer caught in headlights. Can he prove to her that the pleasure is worth the pain on a trip to one of the city’s most iconic sites?

Excerpt

“The most important rule for you to remember,” he murmured, popping an oyster into my mouth, “is that I now control when and where you come. You are expressly forbidden from coming without my permission. Even when we’re away from each other.”
His wicked smile caused a tightening of muscles I didn’t even know I had and, as I shifted position, I could feel a slick of hot juices sticking me to my coat. We were sitting side by side, facing the extraordinary view, but the pressure of one of his fingers running up the outside of my thigh was doing more to play havoc with my breathing than the fabulous location.
“You have to earn every orgasm through good behavior.”
“But I…”
Underneath the table, his hand pushed the soft black fabric up my leg. I leaned back with my head against the banquette. I couldn’t fight the sensations he was stirring in me. Fingers grazing the soft skin on the inside of my thigh. My mouth drooped open, slack with longing. My eyes were closed. Who needed a view across Paris when the fireworks were all internal?
“Don’t. You. Dare.” There was menace in his voice that carried the threat of punishment.
I wanted to push his hand away because that might be the only way to prevent myself from coming right there in a busy restaurant. But I couldn’t. I was like a startled deer in the glare of the poacher’s headlamps. Thomas had me presumably where he wanted me—wanting him, wanting this to never end. Hardly caring that we were in public, that a waiter might approach us at any moment to pour some more wine or clear our plates.
I gasped at a sudden freezing sensation pushing up into the cleft between my legs, high up into my pussy.
“An ice cube?” The shock brought me suddenly to attention.
Thomas laughed as I rifled under my serviette to retrieve it.
“You needed cooling down a little.”
I opened my mouth to speak but he put a finger up to seal my lips.
“You’ve got to earn your pleasures. Don’t be a naughty girl.”
Licking chocolate dacquoise off his fingers didn’t help either. I felt so charged, so needy. Before Paris, before Thomas, I had no idea someone could set me alight like this, and I was astonished at his power over me.
“Come on,” he said, when the waiter had cleared our coffee cups away. “Let’s go outside and get acquainted with that view.”
On the restaurant’s terrace, the cool air felt like a salve and, as we savored the city from the second level of the tower, I wondered with some trepidation what the rest of the evening held in store. I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to be his submissive after the previous night’s experience. But, this evening in the restaurant, I’d never felt so sexy or so turned on. I couldn’t bear the thought of not finding out how high Thomas could take me. Through the fine fabric of the trench I felt his hand skimming my buttocks. My stomach flipped and I turned to face him so he could read the need in my face.
“Come,” he said.
He led me over to where the elevators left for the top level of the tower, another five hundred feet above us. After a couple of minutes, the lift doors opened in front of us and he ushered me into the small glass car. A woman made a move to join us but Thomas barred her way with his arm.
“Please take the next elevator,” he said.
She frowned at him but stepped back. The doors slid shut and, with a sound of grinding gears, we started to climb slowly into the night sky.
“Now we scale the heights,” said Thomas, tugging at the belt of my coat. “I’ve got precisely one minute and forty seconds until we reach the top. One minute and forty seconds to make you come.”

Money Shot is available from:
Amazon.com
Amazon UK

Don’t miss Tamsin’s latest interview with Rose Caraway, and get caught up with her AMAZING serial Alchemy!

Wicked Wednesday #170 –Broken

Eliza rolled onto her side, her eyes still fixed on the screen. Marcus said Sandrine had been vague, but he needed to go home. She watched him put himself together again, while she stayed as she was. Ready to be devoured.

She closed her eyes when she heard her phone, figured it was Marcus calling to give her some more sweet nothings…

“Eliza?”

The sound of Rafe’s voice had startled her at first, but she ended up giving him the address of the hotel and her room number. Unlike Marcus, she had to get up to answer the door for him. She would have given him her card, it was so easy to fall into their usual pattern.

The Rafe she let into her room, was not the man she had been engaged to. He was gaunt, dark, and looked broken. Before she could say a word to him, he knelt at her feet. He caressed and kissed her calves and bare feet.

The moisture she felt was first her own tears as she watched him darkened by his demons, and what he thought she had done to him. And then she felt his tears on her feet. He whimpered, and sunk more to the carpet.

Eliza pressed her head to the wall, and let him hover. Her eyes closed, and her mouth trembled.

“Please get up,” she choked, sounding harsher than she wanted to.

He hugged her calves and kissed her feet once more, before he stood up. She had never seen him like this before. They had had fights, and had made up in dramatic ways…but this…

Looking up at him, was like looking up at an eclipsed sun. The love that she felt for him was eclipsed by everything that always happened with him.

“Eliza,” he croaked, his body sagging.

She was silent, but tightened his tie and his belt.

“You look like shit…” she said looking down, not wanting to look in his eyes. You never looked at an eclipse with your bare eyes.

“I feel like shit.” He put his hands over hers, adjusting his accessories.

Eliza dropped her hands, from touching any part of him.

She turned back to the bed to sit down, Rafe sat beside her. She knew he would, it was almost an invitation to him.

They sat beside each other, the familiarity of being with him was so easy to settle into again.

“I came over to bring you this.” He placed her engagement ring in her hand.

Eliza looked at her ring, it was like a magical amulet almost sticking to her palm.

Like it belonged there.

A Streetcar Named Desire was coming to an end on the television.

“I left the house this morning, and the only thing on my mind was to get this ring back to you and on your finger. I…I went to see Sandrine, because I have been such a fucking piece of shit since you left. It got too intense, I left her. I am always going to be friends with her, I am always going to love her…But I cannot live without you…”

“Did you fuck her?” she asked, as her fingers clawed at the bedspread.

“She went down on me and I let her, I had a weak moment…I hadn’t been touched since you left me…” He placed his hand on her thigh. “I miss you…”

It was then that she realized she could see how broken Rafe was, because she was saw her own reflection through him. She always saw herself through him. Her entire adult life, she saw herself through him.

He slipped his hand up her thigh, close to where she was broken the most…Eliza knew only he could make her whole right now, and collect the shards of her.

“I’m never going back…never…” Stella said at the end of A Streetcar Named Desire, while Eliza was going back to her familiar…
More Wicked Wednesday here:

fragonard postcard photo by f dot leonora

Sticky Note No. 9

I have not done a sticky note in over a year. Charlie has been doing them lately, with much nicer postcards as I would expect from her! But I saw my blank pink stickies in my wallet, and became inspired by the cut on my finger which I acquired today in a much less romantic way!!! As I started to write, a Paris train ticket slipped out from between the pages…

…so this is for Charlie, go read her stories.

she looked down at (the) perfect triangle shaped cut on her finger now. she looked out at emptiness, well france outside of paris. just wide, wide areas of green and people actually living their daily lives. she sucked on the cut from closing his cufflink…

Masturbation Monday No. 52 (1st Anniversary Edition!)

Nichy curled on her side on the mattress, her eyes welled up with tears. She was ashamed that the tears came, but she could not help it. There was a maelstrom of emotion whirling around her…“I’m sorry Simi…” Dorian lie beside her, wiping the soft dampness from her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He kissed her lids, and Nichy felt more tears come when he said Simi. That was his short name for her, when she was still going by Simona.

“I never wanted to leave you,” Nichy whispered, her eyes closed. “I still cannot tell you why…but this was not the way to go about finding me. You terrified me for hours…” “I would never hurt you, you know that. I did something stupid, but I never would have hurt you…” Nichy smiled softly, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I did not think you would…but you made me question that the longer you kept me…” Dorian ran his hand through her bedhead. He caressed it lovingly. Nicky felt his breath on her face, and heard the difference in his breathing letting her know he was aroused.

At what point of this could he not have been aroused? But the difference now was something in her needed to feel the Dorian she had known.

The Dorian she loved.

His breath was replaced by his lips on her cheeks, and then her mouth. Nichy did not resist, as he covered her with his weight and pinned her down like a butterfly with his kisses. She reached for him to anchor him, and felt his hardness against her. Pressing her hands to his chest, she kissed him softly before saying,

“Dorian, no…”

He rolled onto his back, and looked up at the ceiling. Nicky rolled over with him, sprawled over his chest.

“I said no because I don’t want to Dorian…to say no that is, but this is too much right now.” She kissed his bare chest where his shirt was unbuttoned. The feeling of his skin under her mouth, was as familiar to her as her own. She ran her fingers through his chest hair, her fingers slipping lower until her finger caressed the smooth skin of his navel. Dorian took her hand, as he ran his hands through her hair again, massaging her scalp which he knew was one of her hot spots.

When Gavin kissed her, and ran his hand through her hair even he noted that it was a hot spot.

Gavin…

She squirmed under Dorian’s touch.

“Dorian…” She started, but did not finish. How could she tell him she was thinking about what she was going to tell Gavin, when she had left him and not said a word and she still could not tell him why?

And aside from that with their bodies together and her squirming, she had touched his happy trail which she knew was his hot spot. She felt him hold in his stomach as he gasped, and he unbuckled his belt. Her body sagged with lust when she heard that sound. Dorian held her hand, but it was of its own volition that it sought that part of him that she had always craved like a fiend.

Nichy was fiendish now…

“Simi,” he gasped, as she caressed him and licked his chest. Dorian squeezed her hand. “No.”

Nichy moved her hand from inside of his pants, but she remained lying over his chest.

“I owe you…” he said after awhile. Nichy lifted up, and Dorian rolled her onto her back. Softly pushing her clothes away from her, he caressed her clit first with his fingers and then with his tongue. She twisted with pleasure at the potent combination of his soft tongue and rough stubble between her legs. Closing her legs about his shoulders, Nichy came so fast it scared her.

Panting heavily, Nichy was on her back with her legs still apart as if she was expecting more. “I am going to take you home now, I promised…” Dorian announced. The next couple of minutes with them getting dressed, and Dorian grabbing his car keys was like a dream to her. Was she dreaming? What the hell was this?

She had not been with anyone since Dorian, and sometimes she would dream she was with Gavin and he would end up having some feature of Dorian’s. Nichy figured it was because they had been together for such a long time…but now she wondered what if it was deeper than that…

He led her out into the ornate hotel hallway, and closed the room door behind them. Dorian turned to look at her, and caressed the curve of her lip. She sucked his fingertip without thinking, and the next thing she knew she was pressed against the wall. Her hip knocked into a vases with roses, the sweet scent of roses rose up to her.

Dorian pressed his body to hers, before he kissed her so thoroughly she panted even harder than when he made her come before.

“I am trying to redeem my gentleman card Nichy, please…let me do that. Because if I had you against this wall? There would be nothing gentlemanly about it…”

They looked at each other for a long moment, before he took her hand and led her into the elevator. Nichy leaned against her arms that were behind her back, and said nothing. It was better this way. She knew he was sorry, and her emotions right now was not stable enough. Especially since half of the reason why she was so riled up, was because of Gavin.

No sooner than he popped into her head, she walked out of the elevator and saw him standing by a vase with roses at the concierge desk.

And he saw her…and Dorian.

This is the first anniversary of Masturbation Monday, which I joined in on since Week 30. I had the lovely mastermind of this meme Kayla Lords over for some pre-celebration yesterday, and you can read this week’s stories here!

photo of roses by f dot leonora

Guest Blogger Kayla Lords on Reaching a Sexy Milestone!!!

I am such a fan of Kayla Lords! My fandom began when she did the KissCast with Molly Moore, she was so down to earth and sexy! I started doing Masturbation Monday which Kayla runs, because of Rebecca Black (who has a book out right now!!!) All I can tell you is my Mondays start out really hot because of it, really hot…Kayla has created so much more than a meme, she has created a community for writers and readers which produces some of the hottest stories on the internet. Tomorrow Masturbation Monday reaches a sexy milestone, turning a year old–I am currently working on my story! Make sure to stop by tomorrow to read or contrubute, here is Kayla to tell you more about it…

When F. Leonora Solomon sends you a message and says, “Hey, wanna visit my site and talk about Masturbation Monday?” A few things happen (at least if you’re me)…There’s immediate and loud squeeing. (I think dogs in other towns heard me.)

There’s moving everything in your current schedule to make room to write a post.

And there’s wondering just how long Gavin and Nichy have been making us all crazy on Masturbation Monday. (Since Week 30 if you’re curious.)

I say all that to prove my fangirl status and thank Leonora for letting me hang out and talk about my absolute favorite day of the week – Masturbation Monday which is finishing its first year in existence. Right Now. OMG.

For the record, because someone always points this out, yes, you can celebrate The Best Day of the Weekᵀᴹ any day. But it definitely makes Mondays a lot more fun.

Okay, so what the hell is Masturbation Monday? It’s a day when sex bloggers, writers, and erotic authors come together to share their hottest, steamiest stuff. It might be flash fiction. It might be an excerpt from a book. It might be a real life occurrence. Or, it might be erotic torture in the form of WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH NICHY AND GAVIN?! (I’m dying over here, Leonora. DY-ING.)

You’ll read something about masturbation, or something so hot it makes you want to masturbate. Either way, someone is masturbating. Which is part of the point.

Right now, Masturbation Monday is in week 52 – one year old, and I am a proud Mama. We’re averaging 14-15 posts a read. That’s a lot of hot, smutty goodness, y’all. And as someone who sits and reads all the posts at one time each week, I can promise you’ll be squirming by the time you’re done.

I started the weekly meme to help writers promote themselves to readers who seemed to love anything labeled “masturbation” – and help readers find something that turns them on. So far, after only a year nearly, the site has received nearly 100,000 views. Yeah, I’d say someone enjoys masturbation.

Writers – join us each Monday, and find a new audience that enjoys your brand of smutty goodness.

Readers – come find something that makes all of your parts drool a little bit and maybe a new blogger to follow.

And, really, if you don’t have time to read, come visit just for the weekly prompts. Most of them are hot, hot, hot, and may inspire a little masturbatory fun all by themselves.

Masturbation Monday: Week 52 – Join us and celebrate one year of amazing Mondays!

Kayla Lords is a sex blogger supreme, an erotica author, and a kinky woman. Visit her site or follow her on Twitter (@KaylaLords). Between the two, she provides plenty of kinky fuckery for everyone to enjoy!

celebratory cake via creative commons