Saturday, August 16, 2014

Love at First Sigh


Thank you for inviting me to your blog with my new Hot Ink Press release,
Love at First Sigh

The first thing people ask me concerning this release is about the title. They say ‘is that a typo, shouldn’t it be Love at First Sight?’ No, it’s not a typo (smiles). This book is a duo of red-hot contemporary romance stories, Pina Colada and Handy Hubby Hire. The stories feature a love at first sight thread, but initially it’s huge physical attraction to each other when the couples meet. They sigh with lust and then the romance develops.
Here’s the blurb for Handy Hubby Hire
Tired of the maintenance jobs mounting up in her house, Sara hires a handyman. She never dreams someone like Griffen Fox will show up to fix the faucets and back yard gate. Sparks fly, but will they lose their heart to each other?
And for Pina Colada
When Emma takes a long weekend vacation in a warm beach resort, she meets the very handsome Matt Tyler. They spend an idyllic few days together. Will this only be a holiday romance?

I wanted my male characters in the two stories to be very different personalities and yet still similarly alpha enough to go for the girl they wanted sexually right away.
Matt Tyler in Pina Colada is fun and almost dares the heroine, Emma, to engage in lust driven sex. He also gives her romantically exactly what she needs on her holiday break in the sun. Picture the white sandy beaches, the pale green almost transparent ocean, frangipani perfumed, warm night air and a drop-dead gorgeous man, who wants you…bad.
Griffen Fox in Handy Hubby Hire is visually a bad boy, muscled with a swirling black tattoo and an old truck. He’s capable and calm, but underneath the professional exterior simmers…sex…lust…red-hot desire for the heroine, Sara, as soon as he sees her.
He tells her what he’s going to do. He gives her what she’s longing for and then…something happens to him…something unexpected.

As the writer I like Matt very much, but Griffen, well, he’s an absolute darling.

I designed and produced the book cover using Handy Hubby Hire as the inspiration. It took some time tracing the stock photography of the truck and had other people in it, which I edited out and then I found my couple. I love this premise, with the sexy guy holding his lover up against him and nuzzling her neck. I hope it gives a feel for the originality of the stories, their heroes and heroines that could be you and the sexually charged atmosphere of hot summer encounters.

Read an excerpt of each story
Pina Colada: General rating
Her third floor room provided a balcony that overlooked the glittering pool below, and the warm, azure ocean beyond. Emma opened the sliding glass door, and walked onto the balcony. It contained a tiny white metal table, two folding chairs, placed close to the rail, and a lush, broad-leaved plant growing in a massive terracotta pot next to the door.
She hung over the rail and took in the scene below. Bronzed people lay stretched out on the gaudy loungers that the hotel arranged around the pool. A few striped sun umbrellas flapped in the soft breeze. Even from her vantage point on the third floor, the distinctive smell of coconut oil, and other exotic suntan lotions wafted by. The atmosphere was sun-drenched, exciting, and pungent with promise.
Emma turned to go back into her room and saw him. About a meter away on the balcony of the adjacent room, a man stood silently staring down at the pool. Emma took in his gorgeous profile, his dark hair falling attractively over his forehead, his perfect nose, and his jaw with just the right amount of stubble. She sighed over his muscular body shown off perfectly in his low riding shorts. A Celtic design tattoo snaked on the top of his arm. It looked incredibly sexy, a short sleeve of swirling ink on his muscle. She paused to stare at him.
He looked her way. His dark blue eyes met hers. He held her gaze and something passed between them, a silent appraisal of each other. They both liked what they saw.
She knew she’d sparked his interest from the expression on his face, but Emma, suddenly shy around such a sexy man, stepped into her room.

Copyright Elodie Parkes 2014 Hot Ink Press All rights Reserved
Handy Hubby Hire 18+
Griffen Fox drew a deep breath as he watched Sara walk down the hall to her office. He grinned as he took in the sight of her soft ass in her cutoff jeans. Made for grabbing…she’s made for fucking. Pretty, beautiful eyes, lips that make you want to bite them hard as you ram her onto your cock. Damn, Griff, that’s a little over the top, get a grip, and start work. He opened the front door, clicked up the catch so that it wouldn’t lock him out, and went to his truck. An old F500, he’d covered the tray top and made space there for tools and supplies. It proved a good workhorse. Griffen calculated the time it would take to do the jobs in the house — not long really, pesky jobs, but not hard or time consuming, as in a week, unless he strung them out. He’d be there most of the day and one more morning. He looked back at the house from his vantage point on the gravel drive. It’s a nice place. She seems to live there alone. What’s a lovely woman like that doing with no man in her life? Maybe there is one. Maybe I’ll ask her.
Griffen took his tools and supplies in the house and started work. He hummed as he worked. He thought about Sara too, as he rehung the backyard gate. He liked the way her nipples peaked in that tight, white T-shirt, before she covered them up. She’d gazed hungrily at him too. There was something needy about her that made him want to pick her up, crush her to his body, kiss her tenderly and then fuck her hard. Fuck away that fleeting sadness in her eyes. Fuck a smile onto that pretty face. Have those fingers of hers curl around my cock… have those full lips suck it. Hell, I’m getting an erection. I’d like to kiss her. I like her. I do. I bet she tastes sweet.
He jumped when her voice interrupted his thoughts.
“I’m making coffee. Would you like a cup?”
She stood behind him and he turned. The sunlight caught her hair and lit it up with golden streaks. Her T-shirt skimmed the top of her low riding, cutoff jeans. Griffen stared at the flat expanse of stomach on display as she reached up and plucked a few dead twigs off the young tree nearby. He ran his tongue along his top lip as he saw the muscles in her thighs tighten when she stood on tiptoe. She’s lovely… Her nearness made him shake a little.
“I’d love a cup of coffee, thank you.” He steadied his voice, and followed her to the kitchen.
Copyright Elodie Parkes 2014 Hot Ink Press, All right Reserved

About Elodie:

Elodie Parkes is a British author writing romance, erotic, contemporary, and often with a twist of mystery, paranormal or suspense. Her books are always steamy — cool stories and hot love scenes.
Elodie lives in Canterbury with her two dogs. She works in an antique emporium by day and writes at night, loving the cloak of silent darkness that descends on the rural countryside around her home.
Elodie writes for, Hot Ink PressMoon Rose PublishingEternal PressSecret Cravings, Evernight, and Siren Publishing.
She has also released titles as an individual indie author.
Find Elodie online: Blog  Tumblr  Facebook  Twitter 

‘Love at First Sigh’ is on launch special at .99 cents and .77 GBp on Amazon initially so grab it fast.


Or, Check for the release on kindle, http://a-fwd.com/asin-com=B00AHBYPO4



Wednesday, August 13, 2014

To Tempt an Angel



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Patricia will be awarding a free eBook from Lachesis Publishing to a randomly drawn winner via the rafflecopter at the end of this post during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

NOTE: this book is FREE everywhere!  Buy links are at the end of this post -- why not download your own copy today?

Angelica Douglas has no idea that she’s the Countess of Melrose. What she does know is that she needs to support her family as a card shark, while finding a way to seek revenge on the men who ruined her father and sent her family spiralling down into poverty.

Robert Campbell, Marquess of Argyll, heir to the Duke of Inverary, has no idea who Angelica truly is. He just wants to watch over her and make her his mistress.

Angelica thinks Robert is simply a dashing rogue who is far too dangerous for her peace of mind. Robert thinks Angelica is an angel except when she’s being a pain in the behind.

When Robert finds out that his own father may have been one of the men who ruined Angelica’s family, he vows to keep a careful eye on her. When Angelica finds out that Robert’s father may have been one of the men responsible, she vows to stay as far away from Robert as possible. But when danger threatens, both Robert and Angelica must face the truth and let fate take the upper hand.


Enjoy an excerpt:

“Why are you walking, angel?”

Startled by the voice, Angelica whirled around to see Robert on horseback. Her heart beat faster at the sight of him. Had she conjured the man up by thinking of him? Such happenings were possible.

“I beg your pardon?” she said.

“I asked why you were walking instead of riding,” Robert replied.

“I forgot my wings at home,” Angelica told him.

“Would you care for a ride?”

Angelica smiled politely and refused, saying, “I never travel with strangers.”

“We aren’t strangers.” Robert gave her a boyish grin and added, “You’ve just stolen—I mean, won—a small fortune from me. The least you can do is allow me to escort you home.”

Angelica wanted desperately to ride with him. She wanted to keep company with a gentleman and live a normal life. Sacred sevens, she wanted her old life back

Duty defeated desire.

“Making your acquaintance has been a pleasure,” Angelica said, turning away.

“Several people saw you pocket that money,” Robert reminded her.

Angelica saw the sense in what he was saying. Yet, she suffered the uncanny feeling that accepting his offer would change her life forever. Would that be a bad thing? She certainly wasn’t happy with her present life.

“I live on the far side of Primrose Hill,” Angelica said, turning toward him with a smile lighting her face.

Robert dismounted in order to help her up. The sound of a galloping horse broke the silence around them, and they turned in time to see a man on horseback aim a pistol at them.

Robert dove for the ground as the shot rang out and took Angelica with him. She heard their attacker’s horse galloping away.

Robert lay on top of her and stared into her eyes. Caught by his dark gaze, Angelica felt her cheeks heating with an embarrassed blush.

“The danger has passed,” she managed to whisper, feeling the warmth of his body seeping through her light clothing.

Robert seemed in no hurry to release her. “You’ve lost your crown of flowers,” he said.


I'm a dog person. Who lives with 10 cats. Get the picture?

My first brush with the romance genre happened in my high school junior year. I discovered Gone With the Wind and hid it behind my American history book to read during class. (The Civil War is American history.) The ambiguous ending left me dissatisfied, though. Rhett and Scarlet needed a happily-ever-after. Believing in happily-ever-afters positively screams romantic-at-heart.

On the other hand, I love murder and mayhem as much as happily-ever-after. My usual television fare is fiction and nonfiction crime shows, not love stories. Which accounts for the mysteries I sneaked into my historical romances. Now I'm trying my hand at writing a humorous mystery, sans historical and sans emphasis on the love interest. I even prepared for my mystery-in-progress by attending the local NRA's Pistol School. Shooting pistols is great fun. I adore the .22 semiautomatics.

After graduating from high school without distinction, I earned both Bachelor and Master degrees at a state college. Again, without distinction. I held several part-time jobs during my college days: file clerk in an insurance company, long-distance telephone operator, kimono-wearing waitress in a Japanese restaurant.

And then I began my teaching career, eighteen years in the eighth grade and thirteen years at the high school. Weary with the same old routine, I decided I needed a creative outlet. So I decided to write a romance novel but only managed to talk about writing one. After five years of listening to me, a friend said to stop talking and start writing.

So I did.

I made every mistake known to man. Blunder would be a more appropriate word, but I did learn using the trial and error method. As well as studying the works of authors I admired.

After five years of writing for nothing but love, I sold my first novel. Since then, I've sold eighteen novels and won several awards--- National Readers' Choice Award New England Readers' Choice Award, Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice and KISS Awards, B. Dalton and Bookrak Awards for best-selling author. My novels have been translated into fifteen languages and sold in twenty countries.

If I had my life over, would I become a writer? Nope. I would enjoy being a Victoria Secret model. Perhaps in my next incarnation I won't be too old, too short, or too unphotogenic.

www.patriciagrasso.com

https://www.facebook.com/patricia.grasso.902

BN http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/to-tempt-an-angel-patricia-grasso/1005102935?ean=9781927555071

Kindle http://www.amazon.com/To-Tempt-Angel-Book-Douglas-ebook/dp/B00A2WZ1IC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1401151486&sr=8-1&keywords=to+tempt+an+angel

Kobo http://store.kobobooks.com/en-CA/ebook/to-tempt-an-angel-2

iBooks https://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/to-tempt-angel-book-1-douglas/id576045599?mt=11

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Eagle Dance and Crow Magic Blog Tour and Giveaway


Thank you, Erzabet for having me today and celebrating Shifter Month with me.  I’m captivated with your blog!!!
There are books featuring enchanted forests with mystical creatures, but growing up I had my own enchanted woods and magical creatures were very real to me. I spent my childhood summers at our family cottage on Coldwater Lake in Michigan.  Acres of woodland, marsh and gravel pits were our playground when we weren’t swimming. A friend of my uncle’s and a member of the local Chippewa tribe rented the cottage next door for several summers. Indian Dave would thrill my cousins and me with legends and dances of his people. He taught us the importance and spirituality regarding the balance of nature. My favorite stories of people who could shift from human to animal at will influenced me to write my own versions. My cousin and I would often wonder if the fox, deer or eagle we saw where Indian Dave or one of his friends. Who knows…perhaps they were!
Chippewa legends have a tendency to become very real if not memorable. These stories are what prompted me to create the Legend of the Spirit Series. The heroes of these books are Native Americans from tribes located in Great Lakes Region. They are also either ex- or currently in the military.
I am celebrating SHIFTER MONTH! Please enjoy the teasers of the first two books in the Legend of the Spirit series and be sure to enter my Rafflecopter contest for a chance to win some LotS inspired jewelry.


Legend of the Spirit book 1 - Crow Magic
Lucy Richards is tired of being timid around men. Hoping to overcome her fears and feel like a real woman, she turns to Madame Eve to find a man who will fulfill that goal. Eve arranges a one-night stand with a handsome Shawnee shaman who will teach Lucy to use her womanly power and take her to unimaginable heights.
Shape shifter Seth Crowe is a Keeper of the Spiritual Law who carries souls from darkness to light, and enjoys using his body to accomplish his magic.
Tucked away in the Castillo Poconos Resort, Seth helps Lucy find spiritual and sexual freedom, never dreaming he might find his own mate in the bargain.



Legend of the Spirit series book 2 - Eagle Dance
Dyami Schafer, a Native American from the Chippewa tribe, leads a lonely life due to his large size and unusual appearance. When his nesting instinct sets in, he turns to Madame Eve and 1Night Stand to help him find his spirit mate. Or at least a woman who accepts him as an eagle shifter.

Amanda Collins never stopped loving the Chippewa boy she knew from her childhood. Maybe a night with a Native American man will help her forget the past and let her move on with her life.

Sometimes, it’s necessary to take a step into the past before dancing into the future. With the help of Madame Eve, will the Spirit of the Eagle carry Dyami and Amanda?

Romance author and Artist Mary Quast lives in a log home affectionately named "Camp Run-A-Muk" located in the woods of Michigan with her husband, three sons, and a collection of animal family members. As a professional artist, Mary Quast answered the call to express herself creatively. With her descriptive writing style she has developed a knack for creating passionate characters and realistic settings. When she’s not busy writing contemporary erotic romance novels, novelettes, and short stories, Mary Quast doles out sensual tips and yummy eye candy on her blog “Romantic Interludes”.

Visit Mary's website www.maryquast.com
Visit her blog, Romantic Interludes at www.maryquast.blogspot.com
Connect on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/pages/Romance-Writer-Mary-Quast/312371753373
Connect on Twitter @MaryQuast

Celebrate Shifter Month with Mary. She’s giving away some great Legend of the Spirit themed prizes. Enter the Rafflecopter for your chance to win! Visit her blog to see photos of the prizes.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Luck of the Draw Super Book Blast



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Cheri will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card to a randomly drawn winner and a $15 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card to another randomly drawn winner via the rafflecopter at the end of this post.

If only life had a refresh button...

Kate Mitchell never planned to be a 31 year-old widowed single mom, but when her soon-to-be-EX husband up and dies, her dreams of finishing college and starting over are thrown in the air like a game of 52 pick-up. When she’s given a leave of absence from work and told to “quit or recommit,” Kate retreats to idyllic Sugar Falls, New Hampshire, to figure out whether she can discover her passion and pay the bills. Cue the fresh air, summer sunshine and one sexy local contractor.

Tall, dark, and handy…

Volunteer fireman and all-around hunky guy in a toolbelt, Jim Pearson has sworn off complicated women with messy baggage. They cling to his nice-guy stability and skills with a power saw just long enough to straighten out their lives and move on… but then he meets the cute single mom staying at Grams’ lake house for the summer.

While a sizzling attraction draws them together, Jim's distrust of complicated women and Kate's incredibly complicated life threaten to pull them apart. But forces beyond their control--match-making grandmothers, the lazy backdrop of summer, and their own reckoning with the past--conspire to make them risk it all... and bet on love.


Now enjoy and excerpt:

“I don’t mind you standing there,” he added as he pushed aside the curtain and stepped from the tub, scrubbing his hair with the towel. “But you are somewhat to blame for this.”

“I am?” she squeaked. Heavens, he was good-looking all wet and frumpled. His water-soaked T-shirt was plastered to his chest. Kate’s tongue became the Sahara.

“Mmm hmm,” he nodded. Now he was finger-combing his hair, a crooked grin making his face boyishly appealing as he dropped the towel on his toolbox. “I was thinking about you, you see—”

“You were?” Kate backed up against the sink, the small bathroom feeling suddenly much smaller. Dangerously small. As small as the pocket in her lungs still capable of holding air. “What were you thinking?”

He paused, his eyes dancing. “I’m thinking I ought to keep that to myself.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think we know each other well enough for me to tell you that.”

Suddenly the flannel of her robe felt very hot on her skin. Kate sucked air through her nose and stared at his lips, that crooked smile teasing her, beckoning her.

“I want to know,” she said, her voice barely a whisper…


Cheri Allan lives in a charming fixer-upper in rural New Hampshire with her husband, two children, one dog, four cats and an excessive amount of optimism. She’s a firm believer in do-it-yourself, new beginnings and happily-ever-afters, so after years of wearing suits, she’s grateful to finally put her English degree to good use writing romance. When not writing, you might find her whizzing down the slopes of a nearby mountain or inadvertently killing perennials in her garden.

Cheri loves to hear from readers! E-mail her at cheri@cheriallan.com, friend her at facebook.com/cheriallanauthor, or visit her website and blog at www.cheriallan.com. Luck of the Draw, Book 1 in the ‘Betting on Romance’ series is available now from Amazon and Smashwords. Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/448863

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cheri-Allan-Books/143131549193624

https://twitter.com/CheriAllan

http://www.cheriallan.com/

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Big Book of Submission Book Tour



Purchase from:
IndieBound (find it at your local independent bookstore)

http://thebigbookofsubmission.tumblr.com/post/87705510353/the-big-book-of-submission-69-kinky-tales-virtual-book


From The Big Book of Submission:
“I Want to Feel You” by Joy Faolán
It won’t be a courtship. I don’t want you to ask me on a date. I want you to tell me where I’ll meet you, when, and how I will be dressed. I want to feel you inside my head. I want to be confused that you know so much about me when I’ve told you nothing.
“Naughty Prof” by Louisa Bacio
I flipped through the pages, stopping on a blue Post-It note stuck on titillating.
Friday, 7 p.m. Coffee shop on Grand. Wear your black skirt, nothing underneath.
My hands shook. Could I? Would I? The message didn’t ask. It demanded.
“Strip” by Medea Mor
She sank back into her seat, wondering what he had in mind for her. Was he going to let her sit naked next to him to display her to the world, showing off his devoted toy in all her glory? Or was he going to pull over to the side of the road, slide his seat backward and fuck her while she rode him, the snow-laden trees the only witnesses to her moans and his groping hands?
“Training My Dom” by Tilly Hunter
So there we were, isolated in the middle of nowhere. Where no one could hear me scream, as he put it. I was standing naked on a hard slate floor beneath the mezzanine bedroom, arms high up my back in a box tie, rope wrapping them tight against my torso. More rope strung up from there to the bars of the balcony above, pulling me onto my toes. Ball gag, silk blindfold and silver bar nipple clamps screwed tight—and then screwed some more.
“Dear Sir” by Kay Jaybee
You’ve shared me before. Invited men here, and instructed me to do their bidding as you looked on, your pride in my obedience as intoxicating to me as any of their touches. There have been women here, too. You have carefully placed advertisements for females who have always wanted to be with a woman, but have never dared, have brought strangers to our home to use me in whatever way they want. I love observing you, Sir, as you become voyeur, your strong hand wrapped around cock, wanking in time to these willing amateurs’ laps at my clit.
Yesterday was different. I wonder as I write for you, Sir, if perhaps you saw the uncertain fear in my eyes as I obeyed you. I hope not. Truly, Sir, it never occurred to me not to obey.
“Put Your Hands Up” by Sommer Marsden
I flutter around like a coked-up butterfly, briefly forget- ting what’s going to happen to talk to someone I love or someone I haven’t seen in ages. But then he walks in and I see that chain and my cunt flexes wetly and my mind goes a little fuzzy. His hazel eyes find me, and he grins that grin that turns me to nothing but liquid and hope.
It’s already eleven at night and I wonder if these people will ever, ever leave.
“Crunches” by Annabeth Leong
Sexual fantasies blurred most of our initial consultation. I kept imagining sweat dripping off the ends of her long black hair as she tied me to the suspension training hookups dotting the gym walls and forced me to pull at my restraints until I passed out from the effort. When she asked if I thought she would be a good personal trainer for me, I just stammered.
“Butch Unbound” by Salome Wilde
“Fuck!” I hated this just as much as I needed it. Even though I knew it was coming. Even though I hadn’t given in to the taunting this time. Even though I was bigger, stronger, rougher. None of it did me a bit of good. My cunt was hers because I wanted it to be. I was her bitch and then some.
“The Prodigy” by Valerie Alexander
The way he said parties indicated he knew exactly what kind of parties went on here. My cheeks went hot. It was both arousing and humiliating to think of Alejandro knowing the dirty things I liked: being hand- cuffed, spanked, forced to expose my pussy to interested strangers while Philip grinned.
“So I gotta say, you don’t seem like the rest of the freaks who come here,” he said, as he began to net the insects and fallen leaves off the surface. “All that weird equipment inside—are you really into that kinky shit?”
“Beautiful” by Teresa Noelle Roberts
Alexis understood Jane’s fears without Jane saying anything. “You’re gorgeous,” Alexis whispered, clasping the cuff around her wrist. “You’re strong.” Alexis ran her hand along Jane’s outstretched arm, tracing the muscles Jane had worked so hard to keep in shape before her surgery, muscles that were no longer as defined as they once were. Jane winced, but the sincerity in her domme’s voice cut through her panic. Alexis believed what she was saying. Jane might not, but she trusted Alexis, so she breathed the deep, cleansing breaths she’d mastered during treatment, and tried to accept.
“Lariat” by Michelle Augello-Page
I walked into his room wearing high, high heels and an alarming red dress, cinched at the waist with the rope he had left in my bed. The lasso was knotted tightly, loose threads dangling seductively on my thighs. His eyes narrowed. His rope was around my waist.
“Toasted Marshmallows” by Tilly Hunter
I stare at my best friend’s cock. I’ve never seen it before. But from this position—on my knees—I’m getting a close-up view. It’s around the same erect length as my own, but a little thicker. Its head is darker.
“I said, suck it.” Karen repeats the order. She doesn’t like having to repeat an order and I don’t like letting her down. I stick my tongue out, shape it around Nathan’s head and guide it into my mouth. I’d use my hands, but she’s cuffed them behind me—and linked them to my ankle restraints for good measure.
“The Shoot” by D.L. King  
“Very nice, Jordan, arms in front of you now, on the table,” I said as I patted his bottom, giving him the clue to raise it. “That’s it, now open your legs for me,” I said, gently pushing and prodding him into the position I wanted. I ran my finger up his hard cock and pulled and stretched his balls down in back. An involuntary shudder coursed through his muscles. “Very good, Jordan. Later, Mistress will give you a nice reward,” I whispered, as I smoothed my hands down the backs of his thighs. “Won’t that be something to look forward to?”
“Sunday in the Art Gallery with George” by Elizabeth Coldwell
“God, I’ve been longing to do this to you,” my husband breathes as he guides me onto his lap. I wriggle and pout, trying to stop him flipping up my skirt to reveal my white cotton panties, but it’s a perfunctory effort. I want him to do this to me, to go further and pull down my panties to bare my bum. Even though there’s a possibility some staff member might discover us here, I need the shame of exposure.
“The Third Plug” by Nick Mamatas
The third plug wasn’t the hardest, as you thought it would be. After two weeks of training, it slides in easily…almost. The first plug felt so big. Now, with Sir’s palm warm on your ass, cool lube flowing like a snake down your bottom and the largest plug your man owns wedged tight inside you, you can’t help but giggle, and giggle again at the swat you get for giggling.
“Others” by Jade A. Waters
But now she waited, wanting to scream in embarrassment and longing, unable to see much at this angle except the legs of couples who stopped to stare, some of them silent, others whispering as her legs quaked beneath her. They wouldn’t dare touch her, but as the minutes passed slowly by—an eternity with her naked- ness exposed—her sex pulsed for them to do just that. When Jeremy returned, Carley was well on the path to an orgasm built solely out of desperation.
“Without Question” by Lucy Felthouse
I have the utmost respect for my Mistress and never want to do anything to displease her. Especially since my Mistress is also my wife.
Ever since I got back from Afghanistan and met her in a restaurant, she’s been testing me. Then, it was teasing my cock under the table while she was wearing sharp stilettos, bringing me to the very edge of climax, right there in the restaurant. Now, she occasionally takes over the role of my ex-commanding officer and treats me like some kind of new recruit.
“In the Darkness” by Regina Lafayette
My whole body is alert, lying exposed and at her disposal. Suddenly, I feel her swing a leg over to straddle me. The soft touch of her leather crop kisses my neck, the flat tip dragging agonizingly slowly over my breasts and down the center of my belly. With a sure and quick motion she flicks the sensitive flesh of my clit, making me cry out. I tense, unable to see where she’s aiming her next blow.
“The Test” by Kristina Wright
I’m trembling, overwhelmed with emotions. Excited. Nervous. Terrified.
I do not like anything around my neck, not even a necklace. It was the one thing I would not allow you. Anything else, you could have. Anything else, I would do. But not my neck. Not until now. And you have worked very hard to get to this point. You have earned my devotion. My love.
“Patiently Waiting” by Alyssa Morris
Her nostrils fill with the scents of leather and the vanilla candle that she knows is lit on the table. On her knees, leaning over the ottoman next to the couch, her breasts rub on the cold leather as her nipples harden and try to push deeper into the material. The added stimulation is welcome, especially since she has been tightly blindfolded and had earplugs put in. She can’t hear anything, and even if she got the blindfold to come off she wouldn’t be able to look behind her due to being bound in her current position. Her hands are tied tightly behind her back, forcing her to use her chest to keep herself balanced. She can only imagine how she looks, chocolate skin draped over the smooth cream-colored leather.
“Brunch” by L.C. Spoering
“Panties off,” she breathed out, her bag sliding off her shoulder and to the floor. They were both wearing skirts, Lizzie’s shorter, a stretch of pale skin visible between the hem and the cuffs of her kneesocks.
Lizzie’s bag was already on the floor, and she rose up on the toes of her sneakers as her fingers went under her skirt to tug her underwear off—a black lace thong, the same as she always wore, damp in the middle. She blushed as she untangled the garment from her shoes and held it out to Nina, who draped it by the cell phone.
“Love and Salt” by Erzabet Bishop
“Hmmm. Very sweet. Caramel suits you, my dear.”
She squeezed out some more over my breasts and reached for the salt, shaking it over me. Starting at my breasts, she roamed her way just upward of the apex of my thighs and licked at the sticky caramel and chocolate she had poured across my needful flesh.
“Now, I wonder. Are you ready for more?”
“Brazen” by Kathleen Delaney-Adams
Your face looks more than slightly dangerous with need, and relief washes over me when I see the smile lurking behind your eyes. That mix of dark and sweet in you had me, claws in deep, from the moment we met. Bad boy with brutal hands or irresistibly charming butch—no matter, I was a goner. Still am. You cup my head tenderly in one hand and unzip your jeans slowly with the other, savoring the sudden gleam in my eye. How I love the sound of your zipper. I tremble as much from anticipation of what is coming next as from the sharp pain in my knees and legs.
“Story Time” by Inara Serene
“You know the more you tell me how much you hate the idea, the more I want to make you do it.”
My gaze dropped to my folded hands, and I examined the ring on my left index finger with undue attention. Even the barest hint of suggestion of the threat rendered me pliant and demure. His words traced over the outline of the tattoo he had imprinted on my psyche, making me visibly shake with the knowledge that I was his, and he could do as he wished with me.
“Princess” by Amelia June
Plucking a wooden spoon out of a kitchen drawer, I go back to the bedroom. I give an extra swing to my hips so my high heels click on the tile.
When I get into the room, he’s eager. His breath comes quickly, his body shaking with the stress of being on his knees. I hold the spoon in both hands, tapping the bowl of it against my palm. For a moment I’m the evil queen to his princess. “Knees hurt?” I ask, arching one eyebrow.
“Contact” by Shenoa Carroll-Bradd
Clare strode into the hotel bar without glancing to either side, as instructed.
No eye contact, he’d said.
She ordered a sidecar, tugging down the hem of the skirt he’d picked out. It wasn’t her favorite, but of the six potential outfits she’d sent, this was the one he wanted. While she waited for her drink, Clare slid a compact mirror from her purse and used it to scope out the other patrons. She wasn’t sure what to look for; he hadn’t sent a picture of his face, just his hands, crossed over one knee.
“For Her Art” by Elise Hepner
Our eyes locked. Her tongue slicked across her lips, making me wet. Her irises were wide with need, and I imagined mine mirrored her lust. The scatter of voices and peals of laughter died away. And as some expensive perfume prickled up inside my nostrils, her small manicured hand flitted through the air, as if she intended to touch me. But only the tight caress of air licked against my belly. My intent, voyeuristic friend took three short steps to the right—and pressed the button to the side of me with the heel of her palm.
“Working It Out” by Roger Markson
No sooner had my mind drifted than her boot was right under my nose. “Clearly, your mind is elsewhere. Helen, please go fetch the whip.” For a second, I was scared, but when I saw the smile on pretty Helen’s face, I let myself go with the moment. “I’m turning you over to Helen for the moment—I can’t waste the whole class on you, Kyle.” Hearing my name from Lucille’s mouth, uttered as both a warning and a promise, it seemed, made me even more aroused. I was pulsing with energy. Was this the famed endorphin rush I’d been searching for? I wasn’t sure, but I followed Helen to a far corner.
“Control” by Cate Ellink
The leather against my hips and stomach is cool. The burn in the back of my legs increases as I lower my head. A cascade of hair smothers the wooden boards. Heavy breasts strain as I swing forward, dropping toward my lowered head, stretching the flesh across my ribs. My nipples squeeze. Blood rushes to my brain in a pounding rush. When I first tried this, I orgasmed from the rush of blood, but I’ve learned control. I wonder if Dashiell remembers.
His cane was so quick back then. I earned it often. An orgasm followed by the cane equaled a double coming. Punishment and reward.
“Unanchored” by Corrine Arundo
For the twenty-seventh night in a row now, I will get my vibrator out, buzz against my clit, building the tingling and the hurricane of sensation. Building up to the edge—then stopping because you aren’t here and it doesn’t feel as good without you. I miss you. And I’m mad at you. The tears come, not surprisingly, like they have for twenty-seven nights now. I am empty, wanting you to make me full again. I am aching and waiting. I am unanchored without you to pull me back to earth, back to where I belong, back under you. Missing you and missing my pleasure is too much. I can’t do it. Not anymore.
“Fucktoy” by Lady Lucretia
Now stay in that position and don’t you move,” she instructed him in a firm voice. He nodded while looking up at her and gave some kind of garbled response. She wasn’t sure what he said because of the ball gag in his mouth. No matter. There was a chance that even without the ball gag he wouldn’t be forming coherent sentences. She’d just given him a punishment like he’d never had before—but he did have it coming. Rules were made for a reason, and if they weren’t enforced, what was the point of having them?
“Caramel” by Kathleen Tudor
One of the party hosts was circulating with a challenge: name the reindeer in alphabetical order and win a prize. And he was taking on the challenge. Thomas. A big man, muscled all over, with arms like a superhero, and those tight leather pants showed something else at heroic proportions as well.
“Blitzen, Comet, Cupid…”
I set down my paper cup full of punch and moved behind him as he went through the list, breathing deeply enough to make my breasts swell over the top of my corset, even though the effect was wasted for the moment.
“The Bulldog Breed” by Lisette Ashton
She’d opened her mouth to ask if anyone was about when she heard someone moan.
It was an exclamation of obvious pain.
But there was something else in the sound: something needy, obvious and sexual. It was a sound Dani knew well, a sound that often reverberated from the walls of her own bedroom.
She stiffened.
She glanced back toward the door, planning to make an escape before she was discovered. She turned and caught her hip against a corner of the reception desk. The collision caused a small thud.
“Mistress Raven” by Olivia Archer
She is always magnificent in her black thigh-high boots, sporting one of her array of leather dresses. Her simple makeup is set off by deep-red lipstick; her dark hair is secured in a single band. No further embellishments are needed. At times she carries a whip, but often her words are her only tools. They cut as sharply as any implement.
“Following Orders” by Jade Melisande
Except that at this party there was a woman dressed in a latex catsuit, stroking the head of a naked man at her feet; two men stood by the fireplace discussing the merits of jute rope versus hemp while one of them tied a woman’s wrists; and elsewhere a man traced a knife slowly down the arm of the woman standing next to him without breaking her skin.
Yep, just another kinky party at the Pleasure Dome, as their hosts liked to refer to the house where they held weekly play parties for the local BDSM crowd.
“Writer’s Block” by Kitten Boheme
“Follow,” Alex ordered. She followed, surrendering to him. When they reached her table, she sat. “No!” Pulling her up by her hair, he swept the chair away deftly with his foot.
“Bend over, put these on the table,” he said, slapping her forearms.
Claire obeyed. She turned to watch Alex remove his apron. He put a hand on either side of her face, directing her gaze straight ahead; he positioned the makeshift blindfold over her eyes, tying it tight. Taking her hands, he guided her fingers to the home row of the keyboard.
“Help! My Wife’s a Former Dominatrix!” by Angela R. Sargenti
Well, this was something new. She normally starts my spankings over the top of them, and once I’m warmed up, she pulls them down for the real thing.
The most she’s ever done before is make me take them down at the same time as my pants.
My heart pounded fiercely as I watched her spread a clean towel across her lap. When she glanced up at me again, her eyes bored into me.
“That Moment When” by Martha Davis
That was my WTF moment. Yes, I wanted exotic and hot sex of the extreme sport variety, but tossed on the floor and forgotten? I struggled in my bonds and my tummy fluttered with the thrill of my complete helpless- ness. My pussy grew even wetter. The passing time only let me meditate and mentally masturbate on my predicament.
“You really need to delete your browser history. The things you’ve been studying? Good for me to know, but makes me wonder about the educators of our impressionable teenagers.”
He reached in the box and pulled out a black leather paddle. “How does it feel to be tied up like that little computer glossy you gave me? You like it?”
“The Dinner” by Erzabet Bishop
Trying to control my breathing, I reached for the glass of wine in an effort to calm myself. His touch was making me into a puddle of want. Picking up my fork, I stabbed some lettuce absently, preparing for what was to come next.
I paused with the fork in midair; it quivered in my hand as I met his eyes. “Yes, Sir.” His finger edged inside of me once again, one finger becoming two, and I gave up all pretense of trying to eat. When he turned up the control on the egg, my fork clattered to the plate. Sucking in my breath, I looked up in alarm as a warning cloud settled on his features.
“Room with a View” by Rose de Fer
It sat in the center of the room, dominating the space like a stage. They made it up with satin sheets and a silk duvet all in red and black, topping it with a scattering of pillows. And when they were done they did what all loving couples do on their first night in their new home: they fucked.
At first I felt guilty, and I put the binoculars down. But even without them my eye was drawn back to the naked window and the nakedness I could see through it. The man was slightly older. Older than her and older than me. Handsome and athletic. I couldn’t have appreciated that piercing gaze without the binoculars. It was little wonder his lovely wife had fallen under his spell.
“Fitting Assignment” by Marie Rebelle
With a nervous glance at the curtain, she double- checked that no one could see her from the other side. Claire pulled her skirt up as she looked back at the screen of the phone. Image by image, she appeared on the telephone screen: her stockings, the garter belt, her naked pussy. Claire had one more thing to check before she could continue with her task. She took a small step closer to the phone and put her left foot on the bench. Yes! The image on the screen was what she had in mind. The lighting in the cubicle was perfect. Light from the ceiling reflected in the mirror and back at her. The image was without shadows. Every detail of the folds of her pussy was visible on the screen.
“Spider” by Valerie Alexander
I kept a cool face as we passed a caged girl, a shirt- less man with red welts crisscrossing his back, and another girl bridled like a pony. We were here because the host made bondage furniture, and Devon and I were commissioning him to build us a St. Andrew’s cross—if we could afford it, that was. Bondage furniture tended to be expensive.
I ignored the doms eyeing me and smirking. Though I’d been sexually submitting to Devon in private for eight months now, I’d never had the desire—or the guts—to take part in the scene, as people called it. Somehow I didn’t think I could get turned on by a spanking or whipping here the way I did in private.
“The Chrome Plated Connection” by Ginger F.
He’s lying down, and I straddle him. His hands clasp my hips, still toying with the line of my panties, and make me squirm. I let my nail drag over his nipple, and with a deep breath and a smile, I begin to play.
I start by pressing the clover clamp to his nipple. I can hear him suck in a breath. I use my other hand to start toying with the other nipple as I tease my Master with the lightest pressure from the clamp, opening and closing it at intervals. His eyes are shut and he’s pressing his head back, but his hands remain firm and unyielding on my hips. When his fingers dig in I know it’s time, and I let the first clamp establish itself on his flush flesh.
“How to Fail” by Laurel Isaac
All I could think was how I must be doing something wrong. I must have forgotten some technique I usually use, or there must be something wrong with my body that the feeling good wasn’t kicking in. Maybe if I waited a little longer it would start to. Maybe this was how it always was in the beginning? If only he’d slow down I might be able to figure it out, but the paddle abruptly landed squarely in the middle of my right cheek. The throbbing felt like it had shocked me right in half. I let out a sob. And there it was again, and again. If only I had a minute, I might be able to…but the strokes kept landing, bludgeoning, deafening.
“Crush” by Giselle Renarde
He doesn’t hesitate long before biting her cunt, right through the tight layer of black lace. She hisses. It’s better than good. His nibbles send shock waves down her legs and up to the nipples hardening inside her black bra. She likes to coordinate. “I wish I could fuck you with my clit.” He glances up at her. “Fuck me where?”
“Your throat,” she says. “Your ass. If my clit grew big and hard, I’d slap it across your bratty little face. I’d smack your cheeks. I’d spank your ass.”
“Housebroken” by Laila Blake
Softly, like the kiss of a butterfly she ran the tip of a peacock’s feather over her kitten’s stomach, smiling at the little movements that showed her pleasure, the tingling of the bell and the tiny whimpers. She found the arch of her rib cage and traced along its path. Her kitten flexed her stomach and released again. Imani ticked her belly button, trying to drill the feather into the small, tight hole to make her do it again. She was rewarded with a tiny squeal and little kicks into the air.
“Stronger Than Steel” by Alva Rose
Even when he’s on the edge, even when he finally breaks and his hands grip me a little tighter, he’s quiet, strong, restrained. Always the picture of control.
Tonight, when he comes home from his week on a remote construction site, I’m going to take that away.
He is always rewarded by the sound of his name coming breathless and distorted from my mouth, by the hard upward curve of my spine and the bucking of my hips, the slickness that spreads pale, wet butterfly wings on my thighs, and tonight I will get mine.
“Student Becomes Master” by Rob Rosen
My cock throbbed. He smacked that next. Ass to cock, cock to ass. “Mister Matthews,” I reiterated. “Please untie me.” Even to my own ears my plea came off sounding rather weak.
He crouched down, our faces barely an inch apart. “Funny, your voice says one thing, but your prick says something else.” He got on his knees and rubbed his dickhead against my lips before smacking my cheek with it. Again I moaned, body quaking in rapt anticipation. “You were a fucking sadist in my youth, Mister Jones. What’s happened to you?”
“Where the Sun Don’t Shine” by Corvidae
The phone buzzed again a few minutes later. I don’t like the look of that suit. You’re going to get tan lines. You know I don’t like anyone but me marking your skin, Pet.
A thrill shot through her. He wouldn’t have called her “Pet” unless he had some sort of game in mind. She hesitated, then replied. What would you have me do…Sir?
There was a longer delay this time, but when his reply came it was short. Take it off. Now.
“Object” by Regina Kammer
“Take off your clothes.” “Sorry?” This was most irregular. “Take off your clothes,” Shorn said pointedly. “Give ’em to me. Jen’ll take it from there.” And when he was completely nude, Jen took it from there. She was over six feet, with a weightlifter’s body and a smoker’s voice. He felt compelled to do whatever Jen said and to keep quiet about it.
“Against the wall.” She provided an encouraging shove.
“The Control Tower” by Olivia Summersweet
“United 830, cleared for takeoff, contact Norcal departure,” I told a pilot through my headset, getting him off the runway just seconds before a landing plane set down.
Another close call. These fantasies about Brad had to stop. This month I’d already created a “golden towbar,” two planes nose to nose that had to be towed apart because airplanes can’t back up. I’d been the laughing- stock of the tower. I’d been mentally sucking Brad’s cock at the time. I’d never actually seen Brad’s cock, but I imagined it as just a bit longer and thicker than average, with a large, shapely, purple head. Perfect for sucking. My mouth watered again just thinking about it. Please let me suck it, please. I closed my eyes.
“Long Skirt” by Gigi Frost
I stand, alone, in the center of the room. There is only an inch of leg showing between the hem of my long skirt and the ankle straps of my shoes. You walk around me, appraising. I duck my head and look up into your eyes, then away again. Then you are behind me. I grip the sides of the skirt in each hand and lift it, ever so slightly. I am going to give myself to you, expose my flesh for you, one inch at a time. I practiced in the mirror this afternoon, trying to learn by muscle memory what an inch feels like so I could do this accurately, the same way I use a mirror in rehearsal to learn what height
to raise my leg, where to place my hands.
“Breathless Obedience” by Cèsar Sanchez Zapata
I didn’t notice the leather collar in her hand until she clasped it around my throat then took a step back, admiring her handiwork with a wicked grin. She pulled a two-tailed tawse—how perfectly old school—from beneath the mattress, and crawled on, drawing her exquisite legs on either side of my waist, nestling my cock between her thighs.
Leaning forward, crushing her breasts against me, she hooked the belt behind my head to lift up my face. I parted my lips for a kiss, but she merely licked and bit, teasing my tongue until I was positively frantic. As if from a far distance, I heard my own pleas. Whimpering! The anticipation always got to me. She knew that, and relished it, I’m certain, more than anything else.
“Mine” by Roxanna Cross
“You’d rub that pussy of yours over that glass, beg him to come closer and lick you through the thin barrier. You’d grind your pussy on my cock and come in long trembling gushes.” Of course he knew. He always knew. “I should be angry with you for wanting another man to give you pleasure.” He slapped his open palm across my derrière. “But I’m not.” Another slap. “I love that you’re such a slut,” And another. “My slut.” His next slap reverberated all the way to my clit. “Mine,” he said savagely.
His words got to me.
“Second Date” by Alice Gauntley
Do you own any strap-ons?” Jamie asks, her engineer boots playing footsie with my worn Chuck Taylors. I shake my head. “I’m more of a bottom. As I’m sure you know.” This is only our second date, but our first was at a play party, so I feel like the normal rules of propriety don’t really apply.
“A bottom in the kink sense, sure,” says Jamie, her leather-clad heel pressing so hard on my toe all of a sudden that I almost let out a whimper in the middle of this hipster-student cafĂ©. “But I didn’t see you complaining when I shoved your fingers into my cunt last weekend. I seem to remember you were very…enthusiastic about it. Or were you just being obedient?”
“Table Manners” by M. Marie
Her order was emphasized by a hard smack against my upper left thigh. I dropped my gaze immediately, but that didn’t seem sufficient assurance for her that I wouldn’t sneak another peek. Her hands pulled away and there was a rustle of fabric, before a strip of dark satin was slipped over my eyes and tied behind my head.
A whine escaped my throat. I hated being blindfolded, and she was well aware of that fact. My complaint fell on deaf ears, though; her hands had already abandoned the tight knot and were sliding back down my spine and over the round curve of my ass. As her fingers found my wet pussy and slipped between the lips, I forgot all grievances.
“Teddy, Bare” by Jere Haken
Now, Theodore!”
The formality of my given name rings in my ears and prompts me to obey. Adam has always been gentle, but tonight his first responsibility as my new husband will be to punish me.
My fingers are cold and clumsy as I shove my pants to my knees. As instructed, I didn’t bother with briefs when I changed out of the tuxedo. Adam liked me in my fancy clothes, but he loves me in my normal, comfort- able wardrobe. Plain T-shirt and plain jeans for a plain boy.
“The Problem is, I’m a Bitch” by Corrine Arundo
It was sometime in college when I realized I liked a certain kind of pain. I’d get a rush from a paper cut or a good pinch. And when my coaches would smack my wet ass after a swim, I’d always wish they’d done it harder, with more bite. That was when I first tried out some BDSM. But it does tend to raise some eyebrows, coming to swim practice all bruised up. And that shit is year round.
The problem is, I’m a bitch. I have friends who play the brat game; I’m so much more than that. I want to make my dominant really hurt me.
“The Lost Suitcase” by Tamsin Flowers
He left me standing in position and I heard a clatter as he emptied the carrier bags onto the small table by the window. He seemed to be sorting through multiple items. After a minute or so he came back to me. Again he stood behind me but this time his hands went to my neck. He pulled my hair to one side and slipped a collar around my neck. It felt rough and hard compared to the soft leather collar I normally wore. He caressed my neck as he fastened it, and his touch sent a flutter to my loins. Had Target started selling bondage gear?
“It’s from the pet department,” he said, reading my mind.
“The Rhino C.” by Margery Kempe
The fireplace crackled, casting warmth and light across the room.
“We’ll soon have you comfortable.” He slipped her jacket off and threw it over the back of the comfy chair. Then he reached up to unbutton her blouse, keeping his gaze locked on hers. They had the same smile on their faces. When he slipped off her blouse, he leaned forward to bite her nipple through her bra.
Sheila whimpered.
“Marni’s Working Area” by Dominic Santi
Marni used to make me masturbate until I climaxed before she paddled me. Then she discovered that fucking cock-milking toy. Her new routine gave a whole new meaning to the worddread when I fucked up. She walked over to the side of the bed, her hips swaying and her boobs jiggling, frowning so hard my balls wanted to climb inside and hide. She picked up the lubricant and squeezed a long, slick stream over her middle finger.
“Pull your legs up and back.”
“Lost in the Feeling” by Nicole Gestalt
He leads me away from the rug and the throw to an area that at first appears free of fur and pulls me down onto a seat. It’s an oddly shaped seat; the front part is wider than the back, meaning to sit on it comfortably you have to do so with legs open wide. Upon the sides are wide cuffs designed for my thighs whilst upon the back of the chair is a cuff large enough to hold both my wrists together firmly. With a practiced hand, he does them up so I am held helpless on the chair, spread wide, knowing full well in this position he could do absolutely anything to me. My enforced confinement from the fur-lined cuffs makes my submission that much sweeter. By wriggling and straining against the cuffs, I can get the fur to move against my skin, sending arcs of pleasure through me.
“Choker” by Sean Finn
Instead, Tyler pulled me close for a rough kiss that bruised my lips, his hand on the back of my neck speaking volumes. He was in charge, and he wasn’t just going to “let me do the honors.” He was going to fuck my mouth, just like his tongue was probing its depths.
I whimpered when he finally pulled away, utterly shaken—in the best possible way. I was more nervous than I’d been with my very first blow job, my confidence knocked to the ground. I followed Tyler, in awe of how he’d gotten me to give up any semblance of control or confidence in mere seconds.
“Reverse Psychology” by Rachel Kramer Bussel
“Now the other one,” Sasha grunted, and I transferred my lips to her right nipple while she tugged at my hair. I dared to brush my cock against her leg to show her how hard I was. I’m grateful that she likes to get fucked; I’ve been with women who loved nothing more than to tease me, to have me watch them with other men’s dicks in their mouths and pussies, to tie me up and let me see a vibrator do the work I longed to do. With Sasha, as long as I get her primed with her favorite kind of pain, she is more than ready for my cock.
“Aftermath” by Michael in Texas
He once suggested that after a spanking, whenever I’m sitting down, I pull up my skirt so my bottom—at least the part below the panties—is bare on the seat. It was a suggestion, not an order—he knows better than that. On the drive to work, I try it. The upholstery is scratchy against my thighs; it tingles and itches. I become aroused. I feel ridiculous, so at the first stoplight, I pull my skirt back down. My ass muscles burn when I raise my hips.
“Take Down” by Marievie
The body above me is too heavy, the grass too slippery, his grip too tight. Instead, he turns me back over, grabs my wrists right above my head. I feel bondage tape being wrapped around first my wrists, then my legs. I struggle in horror, groaning. Both of us are covered in sweat by now, so the tape keeps slipping and my hands and legs stay free. As he leans over to reach into his bag, I grab anything within reach, clawing the grass, his shirt, his chest, until my hands get hold of his kilt and I tear it off, leaving him naked but for boots and socks.
“Hard Things” by Joy Faolán
I said I’ve never let anyone do that before. I said I was scared. I said I didn’t know what to expect. I said I knew it would make her happy. I said I knew this was my Hard Thing. And then…
Then I said yes.
I knew that this would be intense. I knew it would not be easy. I knew, actually, that it would be thehardest thing I have done for her…for anyone.
“Breathless” by Dorla Moorehouse
I focus on your hands, meditating on your skin and the pressure it provides. You’ll leave a few marks on me, two purple thumbprints in the gap between my collarbones, and from the correct angle, they’ll look like a heart. I love the way those marks linger, the way I get to wear the evidence, even though I’ll have to spend the better part of a week being careful with my wardrobe. I don’t want to deal with questions—or worse, assumptions.
Trying to zero in on the feeling of your fingertips, on the bruise forming beneath my skin, I close my eyes, yearning to become pure sensation.
“Perfect Gentleman” by Donna George Storey
She narrows her eyes, cat-like. “Aren’t you going to try to kiss me again?”
“May I?”
She giggles, but opens her mouth to him easily enough. Their tongues dance. She makes mewing noises, like she always does when she’s ready to go at it. Yet whenever he tries to touch her breast, she twists away. She’s not wearing a bra, either, but some weird, rigid undergarment—a corset? His penis throbs in his pants, oozing precome.
“Control yourself, please. Remember that I’m a lady.”
Erzabet Bishop-Erotic romance writer
I started writing erotica after reading FSOG. I wanted to see if I could do it. To take that step and put words to paper. It was a surprise to me, and I think my husband when I started writing more of it and got published. A lot. Mostly short fiction but that is evolving into longer works. Life is busy and exciting.
Some people want to know why erotica? I think erotica and erotic romance are escapes from the world that often holds us hostage with schedules, demands and sacrifices of our time and talents. Women in particular can identify with this as we hold down careers and manage a household at the same time. An anthology like The Big Book of Submission is a perfect way to just be for a little while as you toss in a load of laundry or wait for your kids to get out of karate practice. Short, sweet (or maybe not) and sexy,this anthology will only whet your appetite for more. I hope you enjoy my two stories in the book and check out more of my work.

Erzabet Bishop has been crafting stories since she could pound keys on her parents’ old typewriter. She has only just learned that it is a whole lot more fun writing naughty books. She is a contributing author to the Silk Words website with her Fetish Fair and Temptation Resorts interactive romances, Sci Spanks 2014 Anthology, Potnia, A Christmas To Remember, Taboo II, Forbidden Fruit,  Club Rook: The Series, Sweat, Bossy, When the Clock Strikes Thirteen, Unbound Box, Milk & Cookies & Handcuffs, Holidays in Hell, Corset Magazine: Sex Around the World Issue and Man vs. Machine: The Sex Toy Issue, Smut by the Sea Volume 2, Hell Whore Volume 2, Can’t Get Enough, Slave Girls, The Big Book of Submission, Hungry for More, Gratis II, Gratis III, Anything She Wants, Dirty Little Numbers, Kink-E magazine, Eternal Haunted Summer, Coming Together: Girl on Girl, Shifters and Coming Together: Hungry for Love among others. She is the author of Lipstick (upcoming), Dinner Date, Tethered, Red Moon Rising (upcoming),Pomegranate (upcoming), Sigil Fire, Written on Skin: A Sigil Fire Short(upcoming), The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain Shadows and Yuletide Temptation. Erzabet was a finalist for the GCLS 2014 awards in two separate categories. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies. When she isn’t writing, she loves to review music and books.
Follow her reviews and posts on Twitter @erzabetbishop.
Links:
Unbound Box Dessert Comes First Flash Fiction: https://unboundbox.com/magazine/blog/posts/dessert-comes-first
Author Wordpress blog: http://erzabetbishop.wordpress.com/
Amazon author page: http:// amazon.com/author/erzabetbishop/