Saturday, February 9, 2008

(Belated) High-Fives

You won't mind that they're late *wink*

#1 Dirty Little Girl has brought the Washington DC series to its climax.

#2 The Provocateur ponders the intersections of love & lust.

#3 Tara Alton has some fun & hot flashers ~ Too Skinny is my favorite.

#4 Secondhand Rose's story, Clif & Lydia Drop Over The Edge, reminds me that BDSM themes can be light hearted and fun too.

#5 Also worth noting is Secondhand Rose's post on the arousal of erotica authors while creating written works.

Find out how to give your High-Five Fridays here!

The purpose of this meme is to give high-fives to 5 people, posts, blogs and/or websites you've admired during the week. I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 5 high-fives on Friday. Trackbacks, pings, linky widgets, comment links accepted!

Visiting fellow High-Fivers is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your High-Fives in others comments (please note if NWS).

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Friday, January 18, 2008

High-Five Fridays #1

Giving High-Fives to five cool erotic written works which are free to read on the web ~ if you are old enough and in the mood to do so...

#1 Cum For Teacher, by Angela St. Lawrence

#2 The Valet of Vicksburg, by A E Franzen

#3 Your Figurine, by Isabel Blyss

#4 Mondays Suck, by Shon Richards

#5 Low-Down, Stanky, Hurry-Up Love, by Timothy N. Stelly, Sr.

Find out how to give your High-Five Fridays here!

The purpose of this meme is to give high-fives to 5 people, posts, blogs and/or websites you've admired during the week. I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 5 high-fives on Friday. Trackbacks, pings, linky widgets, comment links accepted!

Visiting fellow High-Fivers is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your High-Fives in others comments (please note if NWS).

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Monday, December 17, 2007

Forget The Hearts & Flowers

Sometimes women just want it. As this short story, Over The Sink by Angela St. Lawrence, illustrates. Here's a snippet:
"Don't kiss me on the neck."

"Why? I thought you liked it."

"I do. Just not right now. I just want fucked. Just stick it in."

"Okay, but don't bitch at me later."

"Christ, shut the hell up and stick in it."

And then he is pushing her over the kitchen sink, sliding her skirt up over her generous, round ass. Surprised to see she is not wearing panties, he thinks better of saying anything; she obviously isn't in the mood to listen.

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Friday, October 26, 2007

Five For Friday

Five juicy erotic excerpts, with five great lessons for improving your love life.

From Threesome, by The Provocateur:
The way we touch, is foreplay. From across a table or in the car. The way we giggle, is foreplay. Our words, no matter how stern, are always laced within the dance of foreplay.
This reminds us that no matter what, the emotional life of sexual play isn't reserved for sexual contact. (Even if it's only two of you. *wink*)

From Grateful as Panties, by Jeremy Edwards:
"I'm as grateful as your cotton panties," he said one morning, out of the blue.

..."Your cotton panties cling to you in a special way, don't they," he continued. "They hug you, they hold you, they seem to caress you. They love you, Janice." His finger found her ass crack.
A reminder to say thanks for all those little everyday things.

From The Seven Curses of Hannah (Part Seven), by Shon Richards:
“Adam isn’t so bad,” Hannah thought. It was Saturday morning, and Adam had made breakfast. He made his very complicated bacon omelets. The table was laid out for two, and he made a big deal out of pretending to be her waiter. It reminded Hannah so much of how he used to act when they were dating.
A reminder that little things do, in fact, mean a lot. If your relationship is feeling anything less than its original rush, think about the things you used to do for your partner... How long has it been since you've done them? Whipping her up an omelet like you used to do may whip up your sex life.

From Marks, by Sommer Marsden:
The first time David bit me, I wasn’t expecting it. I was also shocked by how quickly I came. The shock was instant, the orgasm a close second. Hard. Intense. Like nothing I had ever experienced before. I was hooked.
Proof that asking isn't always the best idea. Passion isn't planned, so asking her if she wants to be bit, spanked or just plain old kissed ruins the mood. Sometimes surprise is our best erotic ally.

And lastly, if all else fails and all you've got is some pent up anger and resentment, use it. As Kis Lee tells us in The Grudge Fuck:
No kissing; no teasing. I pulled him towards the couch and tripped him. He fell flat on his back. I swore at him and told him how pissed off I was. I called him nonsensical insults and made up curse words. I covered his face with sloppy kisses, leaving red trails across his nose and chin. When he reached for his belt, I stopped him. This isn't your grudge fuck; it's mine. You don't get to call the shots.
Somethings you just have to ride out. *wink*

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Saturday, September 29, 2007

Wicked Winter Escapes Contest

Wicked Winter Escapes

Okay writers, winter will be here before we know it so let's get things heated up with another contest! I want to know how you keep things heated up in the bedroom (or in any other room of the house or outside or…whatever turns you on)! I want something that's going to steam up the windows and make things combust into flames.

The rules are simple:
Make it HOT!
500 words or less.
It should take place in the winter.
You must be 18 years of age to enter this contest.

Absolutely NO bestiality, incest, sex with minors, or extreme violence!

Prizes? Of course there are prizes!

FIRST PRIZE: $25 and a free e-book
SECOND PRIZE: $15 and a free e-book
THIRD PRIZE: $10 and a free e-book
** Honorable mentions may be chosen to receive a free e-book at our discretion.

Submissions to the contest should be sent to with "contest" in the subject line.

By submitting your story in the contest you must agree to allow Inky Blue Allusions to publish your story on the site and use it for promotional purposes if it is chosen as one of the winner or for an honorable mention.

Contest Deadline: November 30th, 2007

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Sunday, September 9, 2007

Historical Themed Fiction by R V Raiment

An excerpt from an historical work, Chasse au Lapins (Rabbit Hunt), set at the time of the French Revolution, by R V Raiment:
Madeleine, auburn-haired, already stands naked save for her hat. Cool air caresses her skin, raises goose-bumps, a thrill of eagerness aches in her loins. Precious small swellings, tinglings and murmurs of moistness flutter in her breeze-kissed valley between her warm pink thighs.

A shout: "Allons!" and laughing, giggling, twenty naked 'bunnies' race the central path and enter the vast enclosed garden. The maze its entrance, the garden comprises gently undulating greens criss-crossed with miniature dells and valleys and dotted with hollows, close-planted coppices, shrubberies and rocky outcrops.

Children might delight in the thousand hiding places and the myriad avenues of escape from each, but children do not play here. There are too many things here which maman et papa might not wish to explain - the statues, in particular. Of men and women, singly or in small groups, and carved with poignant intimacy of detail, these have few echoes in antiquity. Here a naked maiden bends, undressing, every nuance of her alabaster buttock-cleft and vulva etched in the engraving, a patina on each from much caressing. Here reposes soixante-neuf in stone, here stands naked Mercury, cock in a goddess's mouth, and, in an arbour, a miniature temple to Bacchanalian gods.
Find out more about the author and why he writes historical erotica in this interview ~ and discover more goodies from R V Raiment at the author's website,

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Monday, August 13, 2007

Coming Together: For The Cure - RELEASED!

At some point, virtually everyone's life is touched in some way by breast cancer. Whether it's a friend or family member, or even yourself, the journey is one of courage and compassion. Phaze continues its tradition of fundraising for this cause with Coming Together: For the Cure, an anthology of quality erotic fiction edited by Alessia Brio. All proceeds from the sale of this volume will benefit Susan G. Komen for the Cure.

Few things reveal character as immediately and profoundly as the way someone makes love. And since the best stories are always character driven, what better way to get to know the players than by the way they make love? Call it erotic fiction if you like -- it certainly is erotic -- but once you get past the heat and the breathlessness, you'll see these stories for what they really are: tales of the intensely private, the palpably real, the profoundly human.

Barry Eisler, NYT Bestselling Author


I am proud to have my story Last Summer accepted in Coming Together: For The Cure. Here is an excerpt:

Last Summer
by Jolie du Pre
Copyright 2007
Published in Coming Together: For The Cure
Lesbian Erotic Romance

Kate turned onto 94th Street. To her surprise, she found an empty parking space near the entrance to the building. The line for soccer registration had begun to form, and she knew it was best to arrive as early as possible. Inside, a low murmur of chatter filled the hallway as Kate stood behind twenty other parents. In an hour, sign ups would begin, with the line stretched outside the building and around its side. Twenty first wasn't bad, considering.

Twenty people and no sign of her. Tanya would show, though. Kate knew. Soccer had been Tanya's passion since she was a little girl, and as an adult, she made sure to involve her son Doug.

Kate hadn't spoken to Tanya since last summer, since last soccer season. Now Kate longed to see Tanya again. She wouldn't be hard to spot. The wavy blond hair on Tanya's head towered over everyone else's.

When Kate moved to Beverly, full of children and single-family homes, she accepted the fact that she may be the only lesbian around, because living in the inner city was bad for Megan, her only child. Sure, Kate had a lesbian bookstore nearby and her favorite coffeehouse, butMegan played on concrete and attended schools that were less than desirable. Now Kate could give her adopted child a brick bungalow with a flower garden and a tidy lawn in a neighborhood with strong schools and where everyone knew each other.

All this despite being a lesbian and raising Megan alone, however, Kate wasn't the only lesbian. There was Tanya, beautiful Tanya. How in the world did she find a beautiful lesbian in Beverly?

She had, though, at soccer, last summer. Tanya was the Team Mother for Megan's group, and Kate first laid eyes on her on opening day, while Tanya addressed the parents. Tanya stood at 5' 11" and wore a tank top that exposed toned arms and shorts that hugged a shapely butt, accentuating a pair of endless legs. She looked different from the other moms, but she still looked like a mom. Married and a mom like every other woman who had attended opening day.

Parents brought blankets and chairs to watch their kids practice, but Tanya brought nothing. "Would you like to share my blanket?" Kate asked.

"Oh, thank you! I can't believe I forgot my chair," Tanya replied. Her soothing voice made Kate smile.

Sitting next to Tanya, Kate tried to focus on Megan's practice, but she was too distracted. Sometimes she would stare at the silky texture of Tanya's wavy hair or at her tiny breasts that nudged the fabric of her tank. Then, sometimes her stare would fall to Tanya's crotch, covered with tight shorts that hugged her folds. But it was the tiny ring on Tanya's finger that had stirred Kate the most. A simple silver band with a pink triangle in its middle, the universal sign.

Feeling bold and wanting to confirm her suspicion, Kate had asked, "Are you married?"

"No," Tanya replied. "I'm gay."

I'm gay. Kate would never forget those words.


Jolie du Pre is an author of lesbian erotica and erotic romance.

Music for blogging - Hole

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Thursday, July 26, 2007

Author Richard V Raiment, Interview & Excerpt

Tell us a bit about yourself...

I write under the pen name R V Raiment, the initials R V R being (in my view) nicely balanced and more importantly the V Raiment making the French 'vraiment' as 'truly' or 'truthfully'. Unable to sustain myself by writing alone I work in a high school in the UK, supporting youngsters with autism. I live and work in the outskirts of London, a city I love and regularly visit.

My own marriage is ostensibly an open marriage in which both I and my partner are free to engage responsibly in physical and emotional relationships with others, though in practice we have found that life leaves little time or opportunity for such encounters and - more importantly - having the freedom actually makes us less inclined to exercise it.

What are your most common story themes?

This is a difficult question to answer as I have tried to write from a broad and varied perspective. I have tried to read outside my immediate comfort zone - which began as a sort of Alex Comfort Zone - and challenged myself to try to write good stories on themes suggested by that reading.

Much of what I write is set in the past, especially in the years and centuries up to around 1800 before women began wearing drawers :-) and I suppose it is mainly hetero since that reflects my own preoccupations. "Jessamie", my 2003 prizewinner at was written around toys and the relationship between two hetero sisters. "Ghosts of Christmas Past", published in Cream, The Best of the Erotica Readers and Writers Association is a hetero tale of sex, infidelity and regret. "Third Person Singular", in Maxim Jakubowski's Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica, volume 5 can only loosely be described as BDSM, I think, with gay male, lesbian and other threads woven into it.

My recent novel, Aphrodite Overboard, the Erotic Memoirs of a Victorian Lady, is a period piece, actually set around the time of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars though the heroine lives on into Victoria's age. (The 'Victorian' reference was at the request of the marketers :-) In it the heterosexual castaway Lady Susanna is (happily) compelled to play a part which involves her extensively in both hetero and same sex encounters. That, too, is a fairly common thread in most of my stories, since they are written from a perspective which sees any form of sexual interaction between consenting and empowered adults as normal and legitimate.

Which of these words best describes your stories:

Intimate - Yes

Romantic - Yes

Hardcore - No, though explicit. Rarely if ever 'icky' :-)

Humorous - Not as part of a humorous 'genre', but I have a sense of humour which shows, especially in my longer work.

Adventurous - Yes

Fictional (more fantasy or fantastic than 'real life situations') - Real life, I think, in general, but not often 'everyday' life.

Erotic - I love the human body and soul, especially that of 'woman', the heaven's gate through which life is first found and afterward delivered, beautiful beyond description whether young or old. I write predominantly for women, their opening a story of mine implying a tacit consent and an inviolable contract of trust through which I may lovingly and gently caress them. I have never known a deeper pleasure than to receive words from a reader telling me; "I finished your book last night and went to sleep with a smile on my face".

Here's a snippet of "Ghosts of Christmas Past", copyright Richard V Raiment, which was featured in the anthology Cream: The Best of the Erotica Readers and Writers Association and is at ERWA's Treasure Chest:
Looking at the body warm in bed beside me I remember all I have known with my lovely Jodie and I stir, blood flooding warmly where it matters, soft-inflating. I've always woken Jodie the same way, since the first delightful morning of discovery when I found her asleep on her back, one leg diagonally outstretched, one knee drawn up, the lovely sweetness of her sex smiling pinkly open, inviting and sleepy warm.

Not this time, though. This morning is different. The body beside me in a bed still warm and musky with the scents of our sleep and Christmas Eve fucking lies with its legs still softly together, and the difference is poignant, bitterly emblematic of the change between us. Only she drank as much, perhaps, as I did, last night, and I can coax her gently apart without her even knowing.
You can find out more about Richard V Raiment at his website,, and in Open Marriage, Lipstick, and Low Necklines: R V Vrainment Discusses The Meaning Of Monogamy.

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Thursday, July 19, 2007

Sugasm #88

The best of this week's blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants -- of which we are one!

Want in Sugasm #89? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you're all set.

This Week's Picks
Kinky To Vanilla
"Now, each time we play with others, it's a gift that further cements our closeness and shows us the value of our love."

One For The Guys
"Get into the habit of building your sexual pleasure and indulging in it fully."

When A Client Dies-Part 2
"As I drank my morning coffee I googled his name and "obit". Up popped his obituary."

Mr. Sugasm Himself
A Porn Store Clerk Speaks

Editor's Choice
Love at First Sight

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot's Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

BDSM & Fetish
Bombshell (The Big News)
A Cock and a Smile
Dreaming of suburban spankings
Featured Fetish - Ropes (Shibari, Bondage, Ropework)
Fooling around
The Gain, pt. 4 - The Exchange
How I Went To Prom And Soiled The Pretty Pretty Dress I Found In The 2007 'Cosmo Girl Prom'
Ms160 judges a Princess competition...
My (Af)fair Lady
Naughty webcam fun with Griz and good girl
The Panty Controversy
Party Girl
Power Exchange (will I or won't I?) San Francisco, part 6
Slutty sight
Summer School
When Daddy Gets Home Tonight

Sex Work
Clients Say the Darndest Things

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Bald = hot
Kinky Vanilla
On abandon
The Origins of Monogamy and Jealous
Pretendy Sex
Seduction - from the eyes of my spouse
Three years

Sex News & Reviews
Polyamorously Perverse, Gracie's Been Sleeping In Your Blog
Slip of a Girl Right Hand Ring Bling Contest

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
The Best A Woman Can Get
Chantelle Fontain Nude
Gemma Atkinson
Half-Nekkid and Supporting the Troops
Keana | Exhibitionist (Hegre Art)
Last night
More Lindsay Lohan Bikini Pictures
Tuesday's Tits for the Troops
WebMistress Feature Gallery: Party Girl

Sex Advice
Closed Due To Flooding?

Erotic Writing and Experiences
After Midnight
The Driving Urge
Fantasy Forth! "Twin Celebration"
First kiss
In which sinclair gets off
The Love of Sea Glass
Palm Springs ... Friday Finale!
Story: The Birthday Party
Test Your Strength
Watching you

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Thursday, July 5, 2007

Sugasm #86

The best of this weeks blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #87? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you're all set.

This Week's Picks
"Sometimes, she's even more the centre of things than he is, since she is a more recent addition to the dynamic, and since we both adore her."

Money and Sex
"And then in walks sex, #1 potential button pusher of all times."

Denied - 11
"There's a click, and a lifting of restriction, and cool, soothing moistness."

Mr. Sugasm Himself
The Skeptical Pornographer: The G-Spot.

Editor's Choice
A fitting for a marriage

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot's Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Sex News & Reviews
Fun Factory Layaspot Mini Vibrator Review
NEW Designs Throughout the Shop!

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Adult Meme: Q & A
A Brief History of Literature
Cockwhore 101 - Spitting
Have You Ever Used A Vibrator So Long That Even After You Stopped It Still Tingled?
Internet fuck buddy
Is it in yet?
It's Behind You! Hurry Before It
Lesbian Sexuality 101
Q & A For (More Than) One (I Hope!)
Persian "Lover" - Part Two
Read Me
TMI, Anyone?
What if today was the last day?

BDSM & Fetish
Beer bottles and nipple clamps
Daddy's little girl
Featured Fetish Film: Lez Go Retro (Lingerie, Nylon, Lesbian)
Ms160 celebrates a birthday
Oh, Sweet Release! (Kinda)
Parking again
Scenes From My Bedroom - Part 1: Taken

Sex Work
The Art of Teasing

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
BodyPaint - Pictorial Presentation
Breann McGregor Undressed Nude Pictures
Deep Tongue Lovin'
LSG Models' Latest Erotic Photos and Video
San Francisco Pride Pix

Sex & Politics
The no porn pledge (And my response to other misguided people)
Watching Big Love...

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Dirty Talking Girl
Hot Summer Nights are a Voyeur's Dream
I know u want to
In Love With Her Best Friend
Saved By The Bell
Sexual Dreams~ ~#1
Silver Screen
Sleepy Time
Sweet Release
When Joe Brought Suzy Home 3

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Sunday, June 10, 2007

Bisexual Married Women - Thanks!

Bisexual Married Women

Inside Jolie's Head - 6/10/2007

Thanks to the women who contributed essays and to our readers. As a final post, here is a story I wrote, a few years ago, with bisexual married women as characters.


By Jolie du Pre

Copyright 2004

Five mothers gathered in front of Howard Elementary School to pick up their kids. Dismissal was at 2:30, but they liked to arrive early to give themselves a chance to talk before they returned to their homes. Their other children, too young for Howard, frolicked on the school's playground just a few feet away.

"Will Carrie and Jonathan play soccer this summer?" Linda asked Madeline as Madeline placed Eva in her stroller.

"Yeah," Madeline replied, handing Eva her rattle and then standing to stretch her back. "But I can hardly afford it. They raised the fee. I paid $300.00 for them this time."

"I think I've spent about $500.00 so far on activities," Teresa said. "It adds up."

"Yes, but no amount of money is too much for some peace and quiet," said Marcia. "I'm sending my Timmy to a four-week computer camp. Then I'm going to lie on my lounge chair and drink Margaritas the entire time he's gone. I need it!"

Linda, Madeline and Teresa nodded at Marcia and laughed in agreement, while Susan listened and tried to concentrate. Susan never felt as organized as the other mothers. She almost forgot to sign Parker up for camp and remembered only when Linda called and asked if she wanted to car pool.

Susan watched as Howard's lot filled with more adults. It was 2:20. Once 2:30 arrived and school let out, she would gather her two kids and then rush home to check her messages on the computer.

For Susan, after school used to be reserved for cookies and homework. She would plop herself on the family couch, worn with overuse, and devote the time to helping Sydney and Parker with math problems, vocabulary words, book reports and other assignments. Roughly 45 minutes into it, she'd present homemade cookies, because it made her feel like a good mom and because she enjoyed the look on her kids' faces when they saw them.

Now when Susan returned home from school with her children, she found Alice's e-mails. Alice sent mail only during her lunch breaks. If Susan didn't read it after school, she'd have to wait until morning, when George and the kids were gone, and she couldn't bear to wait that long.

So the kids worked alone on their homework and cookies were left on a plate in the kitchen. Reading Alice's mail and responding took at least an hour. Afterward, in the time remaining, Susan would lend her help to Sydney and Parker before it was time to make supper.

It had been three months since she met Alice through a message board on the Internet. Two years earlier, George had bought Susan a lap top, and she soon discovered message boards, chat rooms and electronic mail while home alone. She'd always had sexual feelings for women and now she could connect with females like herself.

I'M SEEKING WOMEN, AGES 35 TO 45, FOR FRIENDSHIP, Alice had posted, but Susan knew a posting under Married Bisexuals would lead to more than just friendship.

This wasn't new for Susan. Before Alice there had been Christine. Christine lived only two miles away, but she had never felt comfortable seeing Susan behind George's back.

"He won't understand if I tell him about you," Susan had said to Christine over coffee at Java Town, their favorite meeting place.

"Well, my husband knows. Like I've told you, we don't believe in secrets. He's totally cool with my seeing you," Christine had said.

"You're lucky. George would leave me if he found out."

"Why risk it then?"

Christine had asked the question before, even though she knew the answer. Susan had shifted in her seat and wondered how many more times they would go over it.

"Because I need you, Christine. I need a woman in my life."

"I understand Sue, but this just doesn't feel right."

A week later, Christine and Susan broke up. Susan, devastated at first, searched for someone else. Alice's post had appeared six months later.

Dwayne, Alice's husband, knew about Susan, and it didn't bother Alice that George knew nothing about her. For Susan, it was almost perfect, except that Alice lived in Atlanta, many miles away from Susan's home in Illinois.

Dreams of Alice were frequent and vivid for Susan as she lay next to George at night. Sometimes when George put his mouth on her lips, she pretended his lips belonged to Alice. And his penis, the one that had entered her so many times before, now gave her powerful orgasms whenever she imagined Alice's touch.

She'd seen a photo of Alice, sent to her online. She looked to be about forty-five, fair with long dark wavy hair, large firm breasts under a low-cut tank and full lips adorned with red lipstick; lips Susan wanted to kiss and breasts Susan ached to suck.

"I don't like to send photos, but since we've had some intimate conversations, I thought I would," Alice had said. Susan responded in kind with her best smile and done hair. "You're very pretty," was Alice's reply.

Sometimes they chatted online about Alice's work as a psychiatrist, tales full of quirky patients. Although, when Susan grew tired of discussing Alice's work, it was she who moved the topic of their conversation to sex.

Five months into the relationship Susan wrote, "I can't stand this anymore. I've got to see you."

"I feel the same way, but how can you possibly get away?" Alice responded.

Susan had a plan. She told George that an old college girlfriend, now living in Georgia, wanted her to visit for the weekend and that Teresa would be available to watch Sydney and Parker if George needed it. George agreed, as long as Susan left on Saturday and returned on Sunday. Susan didn't argue.

Now Susan beamed in the grocery store, and at the post office, and in front of her friends, knowing that soon she would fuck Alice. She was beside herself with the thought, wet all the time and careless. She even left her vibrator out by mistake, right in the hands of her youngest, Sydney.

"Mommy what is this?" Sydney asked.

Susan grabbed it out of her hands and didn't reply. It's Alice, she thought to herself with a smile as she put it away.

On the plane to Atlanta, Susan quashed her butterflies with two shots of Jack Daniels. Once off the plane, Susan realized that Alice wasn't there. So she waited. She had traveled all the way to Atlanta. What will I do if she doesn't show up? she thought. Then, she saw a wavy haired woman sprint down the corridor toward her. Susan smiled with relief.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Alice said, pulling Susan toward her to give her a hug. "My God, you're so beautiful."

"It's really good to finally meet you," Susan said. She stared at Alice, in person for the first time, and saw a face that wasn't as pretty as in the photo. So she looked away and let her eyes fall on Alice's breasts, breasts that were as high and as large as she had hoped.

"Let's get some lunch before we head to the hotel. I'm starving," said Alice.

Alice's face, under the dim lights of the restaurant, looked better to Susan than under the harsh lights of the airport. Susan, still high from the shots of Jack Daniels, ordered a glass of red wine to maintain her buzz. Alice talked about her patients, once again, and Susan tried to imagine Alice naked while she pretended to listen.

"I saw Carmella again today," Alice said. "She's bipolar. Sue, do you know what bipolar means?"

"Yes," said Susan, "and I also know what pussy means."

Alice looked at Susan and fell silent for a moment. Then she leaned forward. "What are you going to do to me?"

Susan stared dead into Alice's eyes which caused Alice to shrink back. "Everything," Susan said.

Alice's eyes left Susan's gaze as she lowered her head and smiled. Susan grinned. She enjoyed reducing Alice, overconfident, over talkative and consumed with her profession to silence. Now Susan felt flush with her lust for Alice. The only thing she wanted to do was fuck Alice's brain out.

"I think we should go," Alice said.

"Good idea," Susan replied.

The hotel room was on the fancier end, but Susan didn't notice. Barely inside, she pushed Alice onto the king-sized bed and climbed on her. She felt Alice's large breasts under her own small ones.

She grabbed Alice's wavy hair and lowered her face to Alice's lips. Susan longed for Alice even more with the touch of her soft, wet mouth.

Susan unbuttoned Alice's blouse and opened it to reveal her bra. "I wore this red lacy thing just for you," said Alice. Her large breasts heaved out of the top lace of the bra. Susan throbbed at the sight of them.

"I don't know why, 'cause I'm just going to rip this thing off," Susan said.

"Gentle, dear. It's from Paris and it ain't cheap."

Susan smiled and reached her hands behind Alice's back. She unclipped the red bra revealing the breasts she had dreamed about.

Alice lay there topless. Her large breasts spread across her chest, her nipples dark and erect with excitement. Susan grabbed both breasts, pushed them together and ran her tongue down Alice's deep cleavage. She licked Alice's nipples, tenderly at first and them sucked and lapped at them furiously.

"Sue, I want you so bad!" Alice shouted. "I'm so wet. I want you to eat me."

"I'll eat you when I'm good and ready."

She grabbed Alice's skirt and pulled it down her legs. Then she removed her pantyhose, damp at the crotch, exposing the think, dark hair on her mound. She slid a finger into Alice's wetness, and then she yanked it out.

"Oh my God! Don't stop Sue, please."

Susan put her mouth to Alice's ear. "Spread your legs for me," she whispered.

"Yes," Alice whimpered.

Susan buried her mouth into Alice and in no time Alice bucked and roared with an explosive orgasm.

At six that morning, Susan lay awake next to a sleeping Alice. She had given pleasure and gotten it from someone other than George. The night was over. Soon she would return to Illinois.

Susan got out of bed and sat in a chair, staring at Alice while she slept. How could this go on? She thought. They could continue to chat online and send e-mails, but her hunger for Alice's body would always be there.

She loved George and she loved being a mother to Sydney and Parker. It was a life she didn't want to give up, but if she told George about her affair with Alice, she would have to. George was traditional and he was homophobic. He didn't know he married a bisexual. He couldn't know.

"You're up early," said Alice, straining to see as she awoke. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm just thinking."

"About us?"


"It'll be okay. I can come to Chicago in October. I love the Four Seasons, so I'll stay there. You can sneak off to see me, and George will never know."

"Alice, you know I can't continue like this. This is crazy. I don't know what I'm going to do." Susan put her head in her hands.

"Sue, I understand. This has got to be hard for you. Are you sure you can't approach this subject with George, slowly? I can help you with how to do it."

"I'm not one of your patients."

"I know Sue. I didn't mean it that way."

"I'm sorry, but George is nothing like Dwayne. He won't understand. I just wish you lived in Chicago. It would be so much easier."

"And I wish you lived here. Maybe we should leave it like this, Sue. We can continue to keep in touch, but your marriage is important. Perhaps visits like these are too much of a risk."

Susan stared at the floor and then looked at Alice. Alice's dark wavy hair sprayed across her delicate shoulders, and the crest of her bosom peaked gently out of the top of the comforter. Her early morning face, sans makeup, looked relaxed and honest. She was indeed beautiful.

Susan smiled.

"What is it?" said Alice.

"When did you say you could come to Chicago?"


Jolie du Pre is an author of lesbian erotica and lesbian erotic romance. Her first anthology, Iridescence: Sensuous Shades of Lesbian Erotica, is now in print . Order Iridescence: Sensuous Shades of Lesbian Erotica today.

Music for 6/10/2007 Blogging - Patti Smith

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Thursday, April 19, 2007

Rachel Kramer Bussel on One Night Stands and Other Fantasies For Couples

One of the most popular themes in erotic stories is the "one night stand" or "sex with strangers" theme. It's a dark stormy night, they are trapped in an unfamiliar place... all alone, until... Or their eyes lock at the airport and they share more than a taxi...

I know many happily married people who would never stray or cheat who love these sorts of stories. I don't think it means their relationship is 'doomed' *wink* But I thought I'd ask Rachel Kramer Bussel, erotic author, editor and host of the erotic reading series, In The Flesh, what she thought...

Rachel, what do you think reading 'one night stand' or 'sex with a stranger' stories means as far as the reader's relationship goes? What are these readers looking for?

I think there's a massive difference between having a fantasy and especially reading or writing an erotica story and wanting to actually do that thing in real life. But plenty of people like to explore the idea of opening up their relationship. I think it's totally natural to get turned on by other people, whether real people or celebrities or strangers you pass on the street. It doesn't mean anything in terms of the person you're actually with, and to me, one of the hottest things couples can do is fantasize together. So rather than just keeping your lust for your hot new coworker a secret, you can tell your husband or wife or boyfriend or girlfriend and together you can weave a fantasy about what you would do with that person. Or you don't even have to go there; you can fantasize about what that person's sex life is like, you can put all your most naughty thoughts onto them.

I think people turn to erotica to give them something they don't necessarily have in their sex life, or to share something with a partner, to either read aloud or explore in their head. I would say most people have sexual fantasies lurking somewhere in their minds, whether overtly or in the more hidden reaches and reading erotica can help bring that out. I certainly don't think it means a relationship is doomed even if you have the wildest fantasies imaginable. In some
ways, I'd worry about a person if they never had some wild, outrageous sexual fantasy.

For instance, in She's on Top there's a story called "Working Late" by Andrea Dale. Here's a snippet:
"Good. Keep stroking yourself, but not enough to come yet."

I imagined his hand gripping his hard, slick length under the desk, sliding from balls to tip, with a little twist at the end to give the head extra stimulation. It was something I loved to watch, but I could imagine well enough.

My toes curled in my stockings. I wanted him. Soon.


"Yes, Jack?"

He was frozen in place, eyes wide.

"I just saw my boss walk by. I . . . I need to stop."

Felicity Jordan, his new CEO. He'd admitted he was quite attracted to her. She was a sexy thing, to be sure: forty-five and mature, with a gym-strong body and wheat-colored hair cut in a thick bob.

"No," I said. "Keep going."

He broke protocol then, but I wouldn't hold it against him because he had a valid point. "We agreed this would never interfere with or jeopardize my job."

"And it won't, Jack. Keep going." I smiled again, a fresh wave of desire shivering through me as the game advanced. "I've made arrangements with Felicity. That would be Ms. Jordan to you tonight."
It explores how a husband's fantasies about another woman get incorporated into his kinky exchange with his wife. I think sometimes people feel so threatened by the idea of their partner thinking of someone else in that way, they fail to appreciate how erotic it can be to draw out that fantasy, tease the person, ask what exactly they would do if they got their object of affection all alone. I'm sure it can't be just me who gets off on hearing my partner share intimate details about what they think about when they jerk off. To me, that's such a precious insight into their mind and libido and I truly treasure it.

How can a couple address these issues in their own relationships?

There are different ways, but I think the first is to acknowledge the reality that over time, you'll likely want to do things your partner might not or have erotic thoughts that aren't exactly in line with your partner's, and that's okay. The trick is to figure out how you can combine them, where your interests do intersect, and how you can make this process hot for both of you.

I'm a huge fan of talking dirty, but maybe you're more visual. Finding ways to just add a new twist, whether that's eating a meal naked in your kitchen or having some special symbol for "I'm horny" that you can flash to each other at a party or on an airplane. Maybe it's writing erotic letters (or emails or text messages) to each other. There are lots of ways, and they can be subtle. Even if you're shy and don't want to explicitly talk about your fantasy, you can hint to your partner -- or make them guess.

I think accepting that fantasies of all kinds are perfectly healthy and don't threaten the relationship, which I consider part of self-love, is the first step, then together figuring out how you want to deal with such fantasies. And making sure you each have room for solo time, whether for masturbation, porn, erotic reading, or just having some area of your life that may be all your own, whether a few minutes pleasuring yourself in the shower or those intimate thoughts you don't wind up sharing but keep tucked away.

Here's a snippet from He's on Top, from Gwen Masters' story "Confession," which is a bit rougher and darker than what I was just talking about but addresses the essence of silence and fantasy and love and betrayal and arousal in this story about cheating -- and making up.
"Did you confess all your sins, Clarice?"


"I want you to confess them to me. I want you to tell me all the bad things you have done. I want you to tell me how you fucked me even while you didn't love me, and I want you to tell me how you faked those orgasms, and I want you to tell me how bad you want this cock in your ass."

Clarice started to tremble. The head of her husband's cock pressed hard against her back door and she tensed up, suddenly afraid.

"Confess," he whispered.

"I fucked a man I didn't love," she said, and as she did, she felt him push harder. Now there was a slow burning sensation between her cheeks, but she found it was more pleasant than anything else. "I faked orgasms for a long time. I acted like the good wife when I really wasn't."

"Tell me more."

"I played with myself while my husband was at work," she said, and Max paused in surprise. Clarice bit down hard on her lip while the burning spread, filling her whole center, making her whimper in protest.

"I'm not going to stop," he said, "Because I know you don't want me to. Confess."

"When I played with myself I pretended that I was fucking someone else. I pretended my husband was tied to the chair in the bedroom and made to watch while someone else made me come over and over and over."

Max pushed harder. Clarice cried out with the sudden flash of pain. Almost immediately the pleasure took over and then there was a dull roaring in her ears, the sound of her own blood pumping furiously. Her clit throbbed.

"Do you like being fucked up the ass, Clarice? Do you like feeling like a slut? Only sluts do that, you know. No good Catholic girl would dream of letting a man sodomize her. This makes you a Godless heathen, doesn't it? It makes you a slut, Clarice."

With that her husband shoved his cock to the hilt, buried himself between her cheeks and ground down hard against her. It hurt like hell but God help her, she wanted it. She cried out and thrashed under him, not sure if she really wanted to get away, knowing damn good and well he wouldn't let her anyway.
About Rachel Kramer Bussel:

I've edited a dozen anthologies, most recently He's on Top, She's on Top, Caught Looking and Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z. My website is and my blogs are Lusty Lady and the less naughty, but still very seductive, Cup Cakes Take The Cake.

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Wednesday, April 4, 2007

Such A Dirty Man

Enjoy an erotic story today! Alan and Beth are at the beginning of something very exciting.

Such a Dirty Man
by Autumn Seave

When Alan's niece, Jennesa, asked him to help her school start a garden he didn't think much about it before he said yes. He never expected the decision to have such a positive impact on his life though. Beth, the Educational Assistant in Jennesa's class was the teacher who volunteered to help him and she made him think about things he had not thought about in a long time. She made him think about that girl who had come into his life twenty years ago and then disappeared. She made him think about walks along the beach at sunset. And she made him think about sex.

Alan was attracted to her immediately. She was pretty in an uncomplicated way. Green eyes prevented her from looking like a typical girl-next-door and the flip at the end of her long, brown pony tail made her seem younger than she probably was. In her khaki shorts and black tank top she looked almost waifish but the tiny nipples that peaked her small breasts gave him an instant hard on.

Beth came every weekday over the summer. She picked everything up very quickly and listened attentively when he spoke. As the summer went on, he found himself spending longer periods of time with her in the greenhouse and had to stay up later at night to get his accounting work done. Fortunately, he worked freelance and could choose when he would work. He enjoyed listening to her talk as well. When she spoke about her students she would get all animated. When she told him about the things she was doing to train for her first triathlon, he found himself getting excited about it, too. He imagined himself waiting for her at the end of the finish line and having her jump into his arms, exhausted but proud.

One particularly hot day in August, Beth was telling him how she had beaten her own lap record at the pool this morning. He hugged her without thinking and was a little surprised when she held it longer than necessary. She pressed her nose into his t-shirt and took a long whiff.

"Did you just smell my shirt?" he laughed. "It can't smell very good."

"It does. It smells like soil and soap - like you."

A flush came to her cheeks and she quickly turned back to the plant she'd been trimming. Alan stared at her brown shoulders in the pink tank top in wonderment. Was it possible that she might feel the same way about him as he did for her?

In a rare moment of total distraction, Alan turned away, stumbled over a potted plant on the floor, and fell against Beth. He just narrowly missed falling on her, but set her off balance as well. She fell forward and he caught her. As they fell, Alan knocked over a bag of open soil that was sitting on a low table and they were soon covered in fresh dirt.

"I'm so sorry," Alan stammered.

"Great, now I'm all dirty," Beth said.

For a moment he thought she was serious. Then she began to laugh. Soon he was laughing as well. And then he was kissing her; and she was kissing him back.


He stopped abruptly when she began to pull up his shirt, rubbing her hands over his body, simultaneously pushing the dirt away and rubbing it into his chest hair. Again, she pressed her nose into his chest and inhaled deeply.

"Beth..." he tried again.

This time she halted his words by sliding her tank top over her head. Those hard points were even more beautiful than the visions he saw in his head at night. There was no doubt in his mind now about how she felt about him. No sooner was her shirt off than she was tearing at the zipper of his jeans.

Now that Alan had recovered from his surprise, he began to help her in removing their clothes. Soon, they were rolling in the rich soil that covered the floor. Her hands were everywhere at once - caressing his chest, clutching at his ass, and stroking his cock into the most amazing erection he remembered having in a long time.

Without warning, she turned onto her back and presented her open lips to him. They glistened with her excitement and her light brown pubic hair was damp and curly.

"Alan, I need to have you inside me now but unless you have a condom handy, that's going to have to wait. Fingers will have to do for now. Unless you'd rather watch?"

"No, I need to touch you. Let me."

His fingers slid inside her and his thumb rubbed over her clit. Her hips rose against his hand as she sighed. Then her eyes were open again and she was reaching for his cock. She stroked him gently at first and then more firmly as she sensed his need. His fingers kept up with her pace. He loved watching her excitement build.


And then her muscles began to spasm around his fingers. He watched as she came, her pussy pressing against the whole of his hand, eyes closed in uninhibited release. As the muscle contractions slowed her hand began to caress his rod with renewed enthusiasm. With his eyes on hers, it was only moments before he came, his come landing first, in a small pile of soil just past her right nipple, then dribbling over her stomach.

"You're such a dirty man," Beth said.

"I'm sorry," Alan began.

"No," Beth laughed, "you're dirty. You have dirt all over you. I think we'd better get you into a shower before that clump of dirt finds it way into your ear."

"And I think I might have condoms in the house," he said, grinning madly.

As she dressed, he didn't think of the girl he loved in his twenties, but he did see Beth walking beside him, water lapping at their feet, and the sunset cooling their skin.

If you'd like to read more stories, visit Inky Blue Allusions Free Stories section.

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Thursday, March 29, 2007

Pillow Talk and Talking Dirty

When people think of pillow talk they might think it means talking dirty. But that's not necessarily the case. Pillow talk can be anything that turns both of you on. But talking dirty can be lots of fun and it is well worth exploring.

It is commonly believed that men love dirty talk. Okay, I'm not going to lie to you - a LOT of them do. But for a lot of women, dirty talk is just too much to ask for right away. It makes them feel embarrassed and a little bit shameful. But you don't start off learning to swim by swimming the English Channel do you? No, you start by getting your feet wet, then gradually building up to a full body dunking and before you know it you're swimming.

Pillow talk is kind of like that. You have to start slow and get comfortable first. After all, it is rather difficult to be turned on when the discomfort of uttering words you can barely say in your head out weighs your arousal. So start slow.

One of the things that men like about dirty talk is the praise. They like being told that they are doing something right and, even more, they like knowing that they are turning you on. So start with easy words that aren't particularly dirty.

"Honey, I love it when you touch me like that."

"Do that again. That felt really good."

"Could you do that thing you did last night again? I just can't get enough of that."

"Don't stop, don't stop..."

You don't have to utter a single dirty word and you can still make your partner feel turned on and appreciated.

But what if you really want to? You want to learn to talk dirty and get comfortable with it? Ester November has some good advice. One of the things she suggests is reading erotica. Find some stories you love with language that turns you on. Once you find a few stories you like, read them aloud to each other. Or find some audioerotica to listen to together.

Reading, hearing, and saying the words aloud will make you feel more comfortable with them and your partner will love it.

Once you get used to just speaking, you can gradually add more erotic wording to your love making. Before you know it, you'll be talking dirty like a pro.

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Sunday, March 18, 2007

Thank You For Last Night - audio story

Enjoy an erotic audio story! Listen to it and then put it on your partner's mp3 player or put it on a disc and slide it into his car stereo. Just make sure not to do it on the day he's carpooling!

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Friday, March 9, 2007

Spousal Seduction; a Love Story Featuring Lingerie

Sophie's Plan

Being a mom meant Sophie spent most of her waking hours as she did her sleeping ones -- dressed in grungy practical clothes and no makeup. She awoke each morning, traded last night's sleep shirt for a tee shirt and jeans, and put her hair in the usual ponytail. But tonight was no ordinary night, and so dressing would be no ordinary event.

Tonight she and her husband, Rick, were attending a wedding -- without the kids. It was the first date with her husband in over a year, and Sophie intended to make the most of it. In true mommy fashion, she had made a plan to ensure that everything, including the dressing, was special.

Rick had been sent to take the kids to grandma's house for the night. Sophie had used the excuse that since it was his mother, it was his job; but in reality, she just wanted the time it would take for him to drive across town as an hour of luxury for herself. An hour to rediscover being a woman. An hour to work her plan.

Her plan began with a shower. Out of habit Sophie felt herself wanting to rush through it and she had to remind herself to relax, to savor the experience of showering alone without any of the interruptions which normally accompanied showers. She reminded herself to slow down and luxuriate in the lather of the products, enjoy the feeling of her now prune wrinkled fingers as they touched her water laden skin, even relish in the drag of the razor. This was not just about getting clean and presentable, this shower was about getting in touch with herself.

She already knew what she was going to wear. It wasn't a new dress, but that didn't matter. She knew she looked damn good in it. Fashion folks were right: one classic little black cocktail dress was an investment worth the money. Stunning never went out of style. And besides, she took great satisfaction in the knowledge that after each child, three now, she was able to get back into that dress. It had taken her five months after this last baby, but she still tingled with pride remembering what it was like to slip into that dress once again. Or maybe she tingled because the showerhead was sending a stream of water onto her waiting bubble-covered clit?

But the dress would have to wait a bit longer... This time when she slid it down over her hips it would be the final note in a symphony; after hair, makeup, lingerie, shoes and yes, even earrings. After all her preparations had been made. Thinking about all she had yet to do, Sophie turned off the water and left the shower.

Drying herself by gently blotting her skin, she left a little moisture behind for her favorite scented lotion to glide across. Slathering on the body lotion, feeling her own skin in her hands, she felt her excitement turning into arousal. She began at her feet and worked up her freshly shaven leg which shivered at her touch. Her bodily response to all the petting and attention was strong. Carnal. She was tempted to take her lotion covered fingers and do more than stroke a bit of lotion around the V between her thighs -- she wanted to bury her fingers in the warm silky wet hair and, keeping her palm pressed on her thickly covered mound, slide her fingers forward and then press them first along, then inside her folds. But this was not part of her plan.

Tonight's plan was all about slow seduction; her own slow seduction. It had not been long since she'd been properly fucked, but properly seduced? Driven crazy by her own senses? Ah, that had been ages. No, she wouldn't deny herself the sweet agony of waiting. So Sophie's fingers didn't dip into the delights of instant gratification but rather continued rubbing the pretty floral scented lotion into more visible areas of her flesh.

Finished with the lotion she moved to the sink. It was time for facial toner, moisturizer, and the tweezing of a few stray brow hairs. She blew her hair dry, and began to set it. As she did so, she thought about how she missed the rituals of preparing herself.

This much effort was the norm for single dating folks, but preparing herself to seduce her husband? The very man who loved her, lusted for her in her baggy sweats, her hair in a ponytail, sans makeup, perhaps not even showered for a day or two? What did he care?

While she knew she needed this, to be a woman and a lover not just a wife and mom, Rick was another story. Like most husbands he didn't always know what he needed and it was her job to be aware of it and to make it happen. So she had, in true wife and mommy fashion, created this plan for them both to rediscover each other as primal man and woman.

All these thoughts about Rick reminded her of his impending arrival. She glanced nervously at the clock to make sure she was still on schedule. If she brushed her hair out now, and sprayed it quickly, she'd be on time. After the last spray, she waited a few minutes and vigorously shook her head to test the hold. Her hair was set and so was this part of her plan. Now she was ready for the next phase, in the next room.

She entered the bedroom completely naked, turned on the radio, and took a moment to look at herself in the full-length mirror. If Sophie had thought to look at herself through the lens of television or compared herself to the women in magazines, she might have been unhappy or dissatisfied; but that never entered Sophie's mind. What Sophie saw -- in fact, what Sophie went to the mirror for -- was her beautiful curves.

She found her body attractive to look at and wonderful to feel. Perhaps it was because in Rick's eyes she was forever beautiful that she believed herself so. Or perhaps it was because she found herself lovely that he wanted her. Maybe it was a combination thereof. She watched as the Sophie in the mirror swayed to the music, caressing herself. She caressed her large bare breasts, still slightly slippery from the lotion. Her hands traveled to her belly then back up past her chest to her shoulders, her neck, her face. She turned around, looked over her shoulder at her bare backside, and satisfied with what she saw she slapped herself heartily on the ass. Giggling, she turned around to face the mirror again and this time she focused on something other than herself.

Hanging from the top of the mirror was the hanger which held her most splendid slip. Heavy, silky black nylon, embellished with wide bands of lace, it was nearly too exquisite to cover up. She ran her fingers along the rich fabric in anticipation of putting it on. Oh how heavenly that nylon would feel sliding over her to rest on her curves. How pretty to see her flesh as it would flash through the lace. But like the dress, the slip would have to wait its turn.

She went to the dresser and shuffling through the bits of lace removed a bra. She wished she had one just like it in black, but this ivory one would have to do; it was the only one both cut low enough for the plunging neckline of the dress and yet heavy-duty enough to lift her double-D's high and rounded above the neckline as well. She quickly put the bra on and returned eagerly to the mirror with its display of the black slip.

Donning the slip was not a disappointment. The nylon poured over her like cool water and quickly deposited itself on her curves, warming as it made contact with her body. She ran her hands over herself enjoying both what her hands felt and how her hands felt. For a brief moment she shut her eyes and imagined her hands were Rick's hands. She gloried in knowing how his hands too would be pleased. She knew every line of his face, how his eyes drank her in, how after all these years she still thrilled to his touch, and he to hers.

The announcer's voice blared the time from the bedside radio, snapping Sophie out of her reverie. Returning to the dresser she pulled out her shiny black nylon garter belt. She lifted the hem of the slip and was met with the scent of her musk mixed with the floral perfume of the lotion. She inhaled deeply and began to put on the garter belt by wrapping it about her waist. She held the back of the belt in front of her to mate each male hook into its female eye, and when done slid the well-mated closures behind her, finally settling the bit of nylon and lace on her hips.

Next she reached into another drawer and pulled out a thin box from which she removed a pair of black nylon stockings. Crossing to the bed, Sophie sat on its edge. There she gingerly gathered a stocking, pointed her toes, inserted them into the delicious delicate nylon, and gently smoothed them up to her mid-thigh. She repeated this with the other stocking and leg, then stood. She went to the mirror again, this time using its reflection as a guide to straighten her seams. Most of the smoothing was purely for pleasure and had little to do with the seams being out of place; Sophie was simply enjoying how great her legs looked and felt. Once satisfied they were set, and her personal indulgence satisfied, she began to attach the garter tabs one-by-one to the top of the stockings. Standing on one stockinged foot she slid the other into a high-heeled black strappy sandal. Then she teetered on that one shoe and gracefully placed the remaining shoe on the other foot. With one last look in the mirror to affirm that the placement of garters and shoes had not twisted the stockings from their alignment 'due north' she turned to her vanity.

She watched herself approach in the vanity's mirror; the closer she got, the more luscious the view as the focus became all about her torso shifting and swaying provocatively within its gleaming nylon confines. When she reached the vanity, she gently sat herself down on the plush seat and began to both appraise and admire her face in the mirror. She knew exactly where to apply a stroke of this, a splash of that to accentuate her beauty. Soon her glamorous self returned; a woman Sophie knew, but hadn't seen in a while. Sophie arched her eyebrow and wickedly grinning at the creature in the mirror said, "You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you". In reply, the vixen in the mirror laughed and shook her head so that her hair tickled her shoulders. It felt so nice, her own hair against her own bare shoulders, that Sophie leaned her head back and rolled her head from side to side to feel more of it.

It was at this point that Rick returned. As she expected, he called as he entered the back hallway, "Sophie? Are you ready yet?" She purposely did not answer; this too was part of the plan. Instead, she smiled and winked at herself in the mirror. "Showtime" she whispered. She heard Rick as he mumbled his way through the house to the bedroom, "You were supposed to be ready and waiting when I came home. How long does it take to throw a dress on, woman?" Sophie did her best not to laugh; Rick was as on cue as if he had read her script. As he rounded the doorway, she did her best to appear nonchalant and reached for her earrings.

"Come on," his deep voice boomed, "you're not even dressed yet!"

Now it was Sophie's turn to hit her mark. She rose slowly from her seat at the vanity and at the same time acted like she was trying to put her earring in -- then whoops, the earring leapt out of her hand. Sophie slowly bent over, her ripe nylon gleaming rear facing Rick, to retrieve it. That was all it took for Rick to channel his testosterone from frustration to hard-on.

As Sophie righted herself, she discovered Rick pressed against her backside and he was doing the old reach-around for her breast. "Rick!" she said as she smacked his hand away, "We're going to be late, let me go!"

Rick dropped his hand and backed away from her, clearly in conflict about what to do. With little blood flowing to his brain, his dick was the one with the answer. "Hey, we can be a bit late..."

Sophie returned to the vanity, popped each earring into place and reached (again) for the lip gloss to apply another coat. Slowly, of course. She noted that Rick agonizingly watched the wand as it went round and round her lips.

"Come on, baby," he whined. "You're not gonna make me go there with this, are you?" he said as he gestured towards the tent in his pleated dress slacks.

Sophie said nothing, but stood and absentmindedly smoothed the nylon at her hips.

"You are too beautiful, Soph, I can't help myself."

"Well, I suppose I could help you a little," she said as she strutted towards him, "but you have to promise not to mess me up too much." She reached for his belt. "Promise?" she commanded, rather than asked.

"What's not 'too much'?" he said in a ragged voice as he reached for the straps of her slip.

"Let's just say you don't touch me, and I'll do all the work" she said as she slid to her knees taking his pants with her.

Before he could say anything, she had removed his cock from his shorts and was running her thumb over its head. Sophie looked at it admiringly. It was hard, thick and a lovely shade of caramel which by contrast made his mass of black pubic hair look like chocolate. It was her treat. As if in agreement, his cock dribbled a few drops of pre-come which Sophie's thumb quickly used to lube its head. Rick sighed in pleasure and his dick quickly produced one additional drop. This Sophie licked gently off with the tip of her tongue, and then proceeded to take as much of him into her mouth as she could. Rick took one quick intake of his breath and reached for the side of her face with his right hand, trailing his fingers along her jaw. She began to bob her head up and down, slowly, just to further lube his cock, and Rick said, "Are you sure, Soph... Don't you want me?"

For a moment she was tempted to give in to desire -- to lift the hem of that slip, part her legs, and let his now slick shaft penetrate her equally slick folds. But no, she had to stick to the plan. She had to make him wait for that, so that he would ravage her later -- to claim what was his after a long night of other men looking at her. It would be passionate, rough even; but if she sucked him off now, it wouldn't be quick. It would be intense and savory. "Stick to the plan, Soph, stick to the plan" she told herself and began to more earnestly work the pulsing dick into her mouth.

As skillfully as she had applied her makeup earlier, she sucked and stroked. His cock was soon very slippery with her own spit and Sophie placed her right hand on Rick's firm thigh for balance and leverage.

Rick began to moan and soon his breathing made Sophie as greedy for his orgasm as he was. Her mouth full of cock, she moaned deep in her throat, rubbed her thighs against each other, and then began to increase the pressure, friction and speed of her mouth on Rick's cock. Knowing all Rick's spots as she did, she let her tongue flick against the ridge of his head on every near-exit of her mouth and with her left hand she cupped his balls. Within minutes, Rick was pumping every last bit of his juices into her mouth.

Sophie swallowed, once, twice and did a circle with her tongue to make sure she'd got it all before she slowly backed away and looked up at him with a big grin. Her grin was partially due to making him so happy, but also because she knew he would make more -- he would just need a few hours to recoup. And during those hours, Sophie would tease and flirt relentlessly to encourage him. Everything was going according to her plan.

Sophie returned to the vanity. As she tissued off the remnants of the gloss from her mouth, Rick busied himself in the bathroom. He returned to find her applying a vivid red lipstick, then a fresh coat of deep red gloss to her wickedly grinning lips. Their eyes locked in the mirror and for that moment Sophie thought he knew, knew that she had not put the real lipstick on because everything had been planned on her part... If he did know, would he bust her? Would he be pleased? But then, he began fussing with how his shirt was tucked into his pants and the moment was over. "Yeah, like men notice details like that," she thought. "And even if he did, what would he complain about? An easy blow job and some even easier pussy later?" she laughed to herself.

"You do look exceptionally beautiful tonight, Sophie" he said as he leaned over her seated form to place a kiss on her shoulder.

Her eyes shown brightly as she trailed her hand across his chest and quietly purred, "Thank you, Rick".

She rose from the vanity and walked to the closet. Then, and only then, did Sophie reach for that dress.

Now she was ready to begin her night. There was so much to look forward to.

© Gracie Passette
As previously published at Tit-Elation, where the erotica is written for women, but enjoyed by all.
Image courtesy of ~ used with persmission.

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