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Tag: erotic

  • What Is The Kinky GFE?

    What Is The Kinky GFE?

    The kinky GFE is the most sensual and sweet twist of BDSM, it is the quintessential spicing things up in a setting that still has a sweet, vanilla taste undertone; while I’d define sensual domination as a pungent BDSM flavour mixed with classic eroticism.

    To me, sex feels like dreaming somehow, like being in a different, freer space, where connections are very strong and raw. Sex is an essential part of my way of expressing myself and exploring connections. It is a side of me that is intimate and different from everyday life, and at the same time is vital.

    The GFE & Why It Is Popular

    The Girlfriend Experience is the idealised and unearthly girlfriend of your dreams, and why not? It is everything that you ever wanted from an amour, the connection, the hot sex, the fine dining after visiting an exhibition together. And if you are curious about kink, someone who has more expertise but who also enjoys the sensual and erotic moreover than the purely psychological.

    Some Ways To Kink Up The GFE?

    Tease and denial: look your partner in the eyes, give them so much pleasure that it almost brings them over, but retain control: don’t let them topple over (note: or: “to enjoy” would sound better?) just yet. They are in your hands, and the longer the game lasts, the more you will see them turn into luscious jelly.

    Also: foot fetish, a favourite of mine, having your partner kneeling in front of you, pacing it slowly by starting with a massage, then just smelling your beautiful feet, and gently kissing them…

    A great classic is to blindfold and gently restrain your partner, heightening their sensations and playing with the senses.

    Safe Kinky GFE Play For All

    As usual, consent and communication are the keys. Establishing safe words can also be liberating as they give a very quick and unequivocal communication; I really like the light system: where “yellow” means go on, but adjust a bit, and “red” is a clear: stop now.

    Another sure way is just to enjoy each others with your hands, whispering your fantasies to one another: playing with words can be so vivid…

    Arazatah – Arazatah’s total black, straight from Milan style encases a vintage hourglass figure and a sweet personality that is fulfilled in sensual domination and lovely vanilla GFE. Highly educated, this edgy Italian amour will seduce you to create unforgettable moments.

    Follow Arazatah on

    Website: www.arazatah.com

    Instagram: https://instagram.com/arazatah_

    Twitter: https://twitter.com/arazatah

    Usually in London, sometimes in Milan. January in Italy, 29/01-3/02 in Paris, back in London in February

    Images courtesy of Arazatah

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  • The Hottest Kamasutra Poses For A Pleasant Evening

    The Hottest Kamasutra Poses For A Pleasant Evening

    Not everyone has an idea of what Kamasutra positions or Kamasutra sex look like. However, it would interest you to know that one of the best ways to have a pleasant evening with your partner, is to integrate some fun like erotic Kamasutra and the likes.

    When you check either scam or legit real reviews for com dating site, there is one constant feature, and that is safe sex or gay safe sex. People visit local dating sites for this purpose, and once the sex feature can be accessed, it keeps them coming for more.

    Below are some of the hottest Kamasutra poses which would give you an enjoyable evening:

    1. Butterfly position: If you have a moderate weight, and your partner has a full figure, you will take your leg to her chest region, while you allow her to stand on either side while ensuring she is very flexible. Move gently towards her, and penetrate while holding her leg.

    You can also stand in front of her, while her legs have exceeded the edge of the bed, then lift her legs upwards, making them rest towards you. This pose perfectly illustrates the butterfly position, and it can also be performed as a kneeling position.

    2. Janakurpara position: This is one of the best erotic Kamasutra positions which would grant you a pleasant time with your partner. This is perfectly suited for partners who are equally fit. Both parties need to have strong and firm abs because lots of calories would be burnt.

    Basically, you set the janakurpara position by carrying her up and fixing your elbows below her knees for a firmer grip. Then use your hands to hold her butt, and allow her to hold your neck.

    With this position, you will be able to penetrate deeply, and it comes with lots of pleasure. In addition, there would be eye contact which is beneficial to this experience. It can be said that this position is the best reward for the tough exercise you had in the gym for your body to be fully fit.

    3. Tripadam position: This is another erotic Kamasutra sex position which gives you an awesome sex experience. The Tripadam position is perfect for partners who have the same height, and it is amazing when you need a quickie done. This position can be done as fast as possible without wasting your time. As a matter of fact, you do not need a bed to get this done.

    According to reviews of free dating sex sites like fuckbook, you will see some models giving this particular pose. People who ask “what is fuckbook?”, need to understand great sex poses before asking any model out. What you do in this position is, both of you stand and face each other, then you raise one of her knees and fix your hand under.

    You should however know that, you cannot deep penetrate with this position.

    4. Piditaka position: This is one of the best Kamasutra positions which comes with an unforgettable sexual encounter. The Piditaka position can be performed by anyone, at any period of the day. To start with, she bends her knees and rests them on your chest. Then you relax your knees on any side of your buttocks, raise her thighs then penetrate her.

    With this sex position, pleasure is guaranteed, because the vagina becomes narrower when the legs are raised up. In addition, you can also communicate affection and tenderness to her when you allow her legs to touch your feet and mouth.

    Before you use the Piditaka position, ensure that you have ample time for sex with your partner, because you would not want to let go easily. Also ensure you integrate foreplay before the penetration, to set your emotions racing.

    5. Blossoming position: This is another Kamasutra sex position which is common. Basically, it can be achieved by taking the head of the woman lower and raising her vagina. This position is the link between Pilates bridge and the missionary style. With the Blossoming position, you can take your partner into a long sex journey, which gives room for both parties to explore the bodies of each other.

    You would be surprised to find out that you can use several rounds with this position without getting wearied. You can also take turns with your partner to lead each round, and you will be thrilled by the pleasant experience which this position gives every time.

    When it comes to having a pleasant evening, one fact which you and your partner should bear in mind is, there are no fixed rules in bed. All you need do is ensure that you wholly submit to your partner, and ensure they receive the needed affection which is a strong sign of your true love for them.

    All the aforementioned Kamasutra poses are awesome, and understanding how each of the works, will guarantee how your sex life would be. Hence, for you not to mess it up, it is important that you understand how they work, so that you will keep thrilling your partner.

    Article images courtesy of Evil Kitties

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  • Japanese “erotic” game shows are not what you think

    Japanese “erotic” game shows are not what you think

    So the Web has been abuzz about the novelty of Japanese erotic game shows. The girl in the above picture, in example, is an Idol no ana contestant doing her best in one of the many licking tryouts in a show whose title literally translates as ‘The hole of an idol’ – where ‘idol’ is the Japanese term for a talentless but good looking girl catapulted at a very early age into a career of singing, then softcore modeling followed by harder and harder porn videos and, rarely, a second run as a minor television celebrity.

    Girls fight off for a chance to become next year’s biggest idol, and they are subjected to many allusive tests among which the aforementioned lickings, sucking stuff from tubes, disrobing mannequins without using their hands and openly changing into cosplay costumes – freezing mid-gesture whenever they are told to, to allow a lecherous cameraman to better expose them.

    The other video is even more shocking. That’s the highlights reel from Orgasm wars: a 40-minutes long contest to see whether a fat, male gay bar owner can manage to get a male porn star to come using all his secret fellatio techniques. Even if the crotch area is hidden by a small screen it is as graphic as you are imagining (not to mention the veryweird sounds of it all), with a commenter giving a moment-by-moment account of the action.

    I’ll spoil this for you: the bar owner wins and the star reluctantly comes. Just like contestant number three in this older game show about… er… sucking off microphones while hidden brushes stimulate the contestants between their legs? That’s not even half as bizarre as the ass-kissing show in the third clip, or the quiz show where people give their answers while whipped by a dominatrix, or… well, you get the idea. But what does it all mean?

    Japan has many unusual customs to westerners’ eyes, that’s true. But equally true is that it isn’t half as crazy as our media paint it – especially when it comes to sex. It’s just a matter of context. To understand three quarters of it you just have to remember that it is a Shintoist and Buddhist country, blissfully free of the absurd sense of guilt and shame the Christian, Jew and Islamic religions impose on sex and sexuality. As soon as genitals are just another body part and sex is just a common, everyday activity, approaching it playfully and publicly appears much more reasonable. Shows like Idol no ana do receive some flak by moralists, but most people see them as nothing more than one variation among many – on the same plane with cooking, fitness or music shows.

    The second important aspect to consider is how Japan remains a very formal society. Just look at the beginning of the Orgasm wars clip: a differently-oriented stranger comes up to forcibly suck you off before cameras, and the normal reaction is to politely exchange business cards, bow and very quietly state that you won’t succumb to his techniques. Most American males would have run away shouting insults, terrorized they had “turned gay” just because they were in the same room as one. Most game shows are not about skill, but about not losing face – that is, keep your honor and your family’s high even in the face of adversity. Accepting any challenge, no matter how weird, is a big part of it.

    Knowing all of this, eastern kinky shows take on a very different meaning. They can be shocking, controversial and ridiculous, but not as alien as they look at a first glance. After all, it is just a matter of remembering that everybody lives sex in a different way – and until they remain safe, sane and consensual, no interpretation is “better” than the others.

    http://https://youtu.be/wlGWOBpZObg

    http://https://youtu.be/tTwa62RA8aQ

    This article has been republished with permission from Ayzad

    Please visit Ayzad’s website  to view the original post and more of Ayzad’s works.

    Featured image courtesy of Rocketnews24
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  • Sexy Reads – Punished by the House Guests

    Sexy Reads – Punished by the House Guests

    My husband Dan and I have one of those relationships where he rules the roost, and I obey him or suffer the consequences. I know, it wouldn’t work for everyone, but it works for us. When I make too many snide remarks about Alison, the bitch house guest from hell, Dan not only disciplines me for being a poor hostess, but, to my horror, he also allows our two guests to watch and join in my humiliating punishment. But it turns out, he knows me better than I know myself, because it seems, humiliation is exactly what I crave…

    houseguests-400-wide-400x600

    Excerpt

    I thought I was quite good at concealing my irritation so it did no more than bubble to the surface every now and again in a mild way, and then something bad just slipped out of my mouth.

    I couldn’t help it.

    We had an open-plan house, so I could see Alison on the couch from the kitchen where I was frantically getting a meal together by myself as usual, and she decided she was having trouble unscrewing the top off her nail polish bottle, so she asked Dan for help.

    I couldn’t help repeating under my breath in that simpering way she had “Dan, could you help me with this please,” and I added to the effect by waggling my tits as she had on the sofa and adding “because I want to show you all I’ve got.”

    Of course, they both chose that very moment to look my way, and Alison gave a little shriek of protest, while Dan just said “Bedroom, now!” and I didn’t think I could do anything else but go there and wait.

    “That was unspeakably rude,” he said. “I can’t let that pass. You’ve been less than welcoming to Alison and Tom the past few days, but that was too much.”

    He pulled me over his lap, lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties to my knees. And then he walloped me hard six times. I knew Alison would be able to hear those smacks, and presumably he knew it too, but he was so annoyed he didn’t care.

    And it was all the more humiliating to know she would be aware of exactly what was happening to me. That spanking hurt just as much as it ever did, but the surprising thing was that, despite the shame of it, I felt excited by feeling Dan’s hand on my bottom more than ever before, knowing that bitch could hear everything.

    “Now pull your panties down and take them off. You can stay like that all evening. Go out there and apologize to Alison.”

    I humphed a bit about having to apologize, but I went out there anyway.

    Alison was as ungracious as I expected her to be, when I said “I’m sorry, for being rude, Alison. Tough day at work, you know.”

    She just smirked at me and looked pointedly at my behind, letting me know she knew I’d been disciplined like a child. I could feel a blush creeping over my face, and there was something else as well. I was getting wetter as she looked down her nose at me.

    Purchase and read the rest of Punished by the House Guests at:

    http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00U35OFYE
    http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00U35OFYE

    Image courtesy of Caia Fox

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  • Sexy Reads – A Rough Ride

    Sexy Reads – A Rough Ride

    When Marianna tried the dress on in front of her full-length, floor to ceiling art deco mirror, the dress wasn’t quite as opaque as she’d feared. It clung to her body like a second skin, with a tenacity that surprised her, and covered up all of the important parts. That was, until she made a move. Then the diamonds quivered, stretched, sparkled and revealed naughty glimpses of skin as they pulled this way and that. As it shifted around her, the dress became a walking advert for indecency. Twisting this way and that at the mirror, she caught a flash of nipple, watched the curve of her breast as it moved softly against the material and if she moved her legs, well, that was another story. Standing with her legs shoulder width apart, the mound of her sex was clearly revealed beneath the delicate triangles. Turning around to view the back, she could see the outline of her toned backside and, if the material was stretched further, the valley between her ass cheeks was clearly revealed. It felt sinfully invigorating. Taking a few practice steps around her bedroom, she smiled as the tiny threads of rope rubbed against her nipples, breasts and sex, and she found that the faster she walked, the more exquisite the sensation. As she moved, the dress slithered in tiny, stimulating whispers all around her body. It would make her acutely aware of her nakedness with every step she took, which was the idea she guessed. Mark Matthews was indeed a master tormentor. No foreplay would be necessary with an outfit such as this, if foreplay had been necessary – which it wasn’t.

    When Marianna waltzed back into the lounge, poised and almost regal in stature, Mark felt his breath catch in his throat. The personal shopping assistant, who advised him on all of his purchases from Harrods, had really outdone herself on this occasion. The dress was scandalous, outrageous and damn near perfect to his mind. Each tiny flash of generously tanned flesh served to titillate his senses and the outfit managed to accentuate all of her ample charms, if that were possible. It was a beautiful frame for a near perfect body. He would never tell her that, of course. He needed to keep this one on her toes.

    1

    “Not bad, Miss Morreau,” he drawled, cocking his head to one side as he appraised every inch of flesh from top to bottom. “You have made one small error, however. I wonder if you can tell me what it is?”

    Marianna’s face took on the appearance of a little girl for a minute, lost and confused. It took her a moment before she remembered where she was and who she was with. Her eyes flared in understanding before she let out a strangled sob. Getting down to her hands and knees once more, she whispered, “I’m sorry, Sir. Please forgive me.” Mark clucked his tongue. She was giving him the ‘lost puppy’ look and it was all he could do to stop from smiling.

    “So many indiscretions this evening, Miss Morreau. We really must start addressing them.” He appeared to consider the matter, while his eyes were devouring the way her breasts wobbled slightly as her breathing quickened. His naughty little girl was aroused, so much the better. “Hmm. I have just the thing. How about we go out for a drink? I know a lovely place in the center of London. Fancy a gin and tonic, my dear?”

    He stifled another laugh as her face dropped. He wondered if she would ask the question or whether he would just give her ‘the look’ and stifle it in its tracks. He decided that would be a little mean, so he waited expectantly. Marianna’s mouth opened and closed several times and she looked not unlike a goldfish gasping for air. She even got to the point where she raised her finger in the air anxiously and Mark gave her an encouraging smile. “Something on your mind, Marianna?” Her mouth snapped shut. Damn the woman, she was spoiling all his fun. She’d obviously figured out his game. What she didn’t know was that they would have been going out had she been a good girl or not. He wanted to see how she would handle the idea of going out in public not only nearly naked, but with a dress that would slay the average male mortal at ten paces. It was going to be an entertaining evening.

    “Before we go, Marianna, I feel that certain aspects of your behavior need to be addressed. So you may place yourself over my knee, hands on the armrest of the sofa. I think we should make that backside take on a pleasant, cherry-red hue before we let the general public lay their eyes on it. What say you, sweetness?”

    Marianna had still not come to terms with the fact that she was about to display all of her most intimate charms to any member of the public who might care to look at them, so it took a moment before her eyes connected with his. Her pupils had dilated dramatically and she was running scared. It wouldn’t do her any harm.

    “Now, Marianna. I am not a patient man.”

    2

    His sharp tone had her rushing to obey. She laid her slight body over his thighs and he felt his trousers crumple as she moved forward. It was probably a good thing. He’d need to look a bit rumpled if he wanted to fit in at the bar they were going to tonight. Splaying her body forward, her cheek rested on the arm of her sofa, tilted to the left and she draped both of her arms either side of her head. He let her rest there for a moment in contemplative silence. Anticipation was the mother of desire, and he would see to it that she had more than her fair share of the fickle creature. She began squirming before he had laid even a single finger upon her. He let her wriggle. It served to arouse him as well. He watched the little, glistening diamonds as they danced sinuously upon her body. His hand itched to slam into her flesh, but he waited patiently. There was a time and place for everything and he valued every last little aspect of control. Another twist of her groin, grinding into his pants made him catch his breath, but still he waited. When she finally cried out, a muffled little gasp of arousal that she could no longer keep inside her, he took pity upon her and slowly slid the pathetic wisps of silk covering her ass cheeks up towards her waist. Her sharp intake of breath was delightful. He could hear her fingernails digging into the soft suede of the sofa and her heels scrape against the carpet. Yes, she was ready for a little pain he thought. She had certainly earned it.

    Letting his fingers slide over the soft mounds of her buttocks, he felt the taut muscle there. It was no surprise she was a little apprehensive but he wondered if she would be wet and ready for him. His fingers walked a path down her butt cheeks. Hearing Marianna moan at even that light pressure, he was pretty much assured of the outcome of his exploration, and when his fingers reached the base of her sex they almost skidded. She was drenched. Perhaps it was a good thing that there wouldn’t be much dress to soak. Plunging two fingers forth into her core, he watched as her back strung itself tight as a bow and her hips bucked against him.

    He whispered, “You’re ready for my hand, aren’t you Marianna?” There was no immediate response. To make his point clear, his hand grasped an ass cheek with a fearsome grip and squeezed. She gave out a high pitched yelp and whimpered, “Yes, Sir.” Well, that was a bit more like it. He raised his hand in the air, palm facing down and unleashed himself.

    The first few smacks were a gentle warm-up both for Marianna’s backside and for his hand. He needed to get a good pattern and rhythm going. The idea was to slowly build up the heat so that each spank was a little bit harder than the last. At the end of this session both his hand and her backside would be sore, but there was no question that she would have the worst end of the deal. To give her credit, she settled into the spanking after the shock of the first two slaps had left her and then raised her buttocks to welcome each new slap as she had been taught. She didn’t move her hands or her head, and she kept her dazzling green eyes wide open even though she couldn’t look at him with them.

    Alternating from side to side, he admired the twin peaks of firm flesh and the first spots of colour that had just started to encourage her ass to blush rather beautifully. It would take a good few minutes to develop something half-decent and long lasting, but he was on the right path. Each slap saw a slight quiver as the orbs tried desperately to recover themselves before his hand descended again with another fresh attack.

    “I’ve been thinking about your punishment for this evening’s ‘panty’ debacle. As you have already realised, parading you around central London in that dress will be a part of it. It should help you lose that innate sense of propriety that you seem so keen to hold on to. You need to learn that when I lay down the law, I mean for my instructions to be obeyed immediately and without question. Failure to do so will result in penalties. These may be moderate to severe, depending on my choice, but I shall make sure that the lesson has been learned.” As his hand continued to fall, he increased the strength of the stroke. She whimpered in protest, but there was still little movement on her part. “You will be pleased to know that I am going to allow you the privilege of wearing panties to work.” He did not miss the puzzled frown that graced her face. She had every right to be confused but he intended to clear up her misunderstanding quickly. “When you arrive at the office, however, you will bend over and push your panties down so that they rest around your ankles. That way, I will be assured that you are not wearing underwear while you are working under my roof.” Marianna’s jaw dropped in horror and he knew it had nothing to do with the effects of his spanking, even though her backside had just begun to wiggle in the most charming fashion. “You may speak.”

    Marianna did the goldfish thing again. He hadn’t slowed the pace of his spanking, so it was going to be a little hard for her to concentrate, but she’d get there in the end. Women were renowned for their multi-tasking skills he’d heard.

    “Isn’t there some…” a rather loud squeak ensued as a particularly hard whack cracked down, “health and safety law against that?” Her words tripped over one another in a breathless manner and her squirming increased. He could feel his cock harden painfully as he watched her body undulate backwards and forwards.

    “Against what?” He raised an eyebrow out of habit, but was aware she couldn’t see it.

    “Against try-ing,” another squeak, “to walk,” a yelp of pain, “in-high-heels-with-your-panties-around- your-ankles!”

    “It’s a good job I speak gibberish, Miss Morreau. No, the only laws in my office are those which I set and you will ensure that you walk slowly and carefully within the confines of my office, so as not to injure yourself. If you manage to injure yourself through your own stupidity, you will, of course, be punished.” Slap, slap, slap. The metronome beat of his hand was building in tempo. She had to wait a full minute before she could summon a weak, if faintly sarcastic response to his dictate.

    “Obviously.” That was the last thing she said for quite some time.

    Purchase A Rough Ride at the following links:

    Amazon: myBook.to/ARR
    Barnes and Noble:  http://bit.ly/WOt8wf

    Images courtesy of Christina Mandara

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  • Erotic and Fetish model Hex Hypoxia

    Erotic and Fetish model Hex Hypoxia

    If you’re into erotic and fetish modelling, it’s a must to check out Hex Hypoxia and her works. In addition, she also does fetish performance in fireplay, bondage and shibari. Find out more and admire her photos in this interview!

    Hi Hex, it’s a great pleasure to interview you on SimplySxy. Can you share a little about yourself and where you’re from to our readers?

    Thanks for having me! I’m a full time model and performer, based out of Austin Texas and travel worldwide.

    1
    Photo and Makeup: JL Capella

    How did your interest in modeling begin?

    I actually never thought of modeling as a career for me. I started as a performer and while doing promo shots for a group I worked with, the photographer liked my look and started shooting with me. It was definitely a challenge, and I love a challenge so kept with it!

    2
    Photo: Lorenzo Chuca, Latex: Cinched Tight

    Was going into fetish, erotic and nude modeling an exciting experience for you?

    I think each genre I do has a different feel and excitement behind it, each one is a different experience, even down to each shoot. Its’ always something new and I love it.

    We like seeing all the photos on your website which are shot very artistically. Do you have an idea of the style and pose you want going into a shoot or do you leave it to the photographer to decide?

    Before a shoot, I’m usually told the style/idea/theme so I can be prepared. And as far as poses, I tend to try to fit the photographers vision with what I’m doing as much as I can. Usually that seems to work well haha.

    3
    Photo: J Isobel De Lisle

    You have a lot of amazing tattoos! Is there an interesting story you can share behind one of them?

    Thank you! As for tattoos, haha there’s a story behind every single one. The one on my hand for example, the group of friends I lived with back then all had “hold me <3” tattooed on their palms. I was the odd one out without it, so one day I announced I finally got it down then came home with “don’t touch me” on mine haha. It fits though!

    5
    Photo: Theresa Manchester

    What is the naughtiest thing you have ever done?

    Well if I told you that, I might accidentally give away the location of the bodies, so I’ll have to smile mysteriously and move on to the next question haha.

    Which is your favorite body part?

    On me? My hands. Because they hold pizza.

    6
    Photo: J Rodgers, Latex: Pandora Deluxe

    Thank you again for being on SimplySxy, Hex. One question before we end, how do you define “sexy”? 

    I think “sexy” is all a matter of opinion, and that’s okay. Whatever works for you, turns you on, makes you feel good. And if your definition of sexy is different then others, that’s totally okay. Everyone likes what they like, and I think more people need to realize that’s not a bad thing.

    Follow the kinky Hex Hypoxia on:
    Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/HexHypoxia
    Tumblr: http://hexhypoxia.tumblr.com/

    Deviant Art: http://hexhypoxia.deviantart.com/

    GodsGirls: http://www.godsgirls.com/girls/Hex

    Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/103924

    Website: http://thehexhypoxia.com

    Featured image courtesy of Rae K Photography

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  • Sexy Reads – Forbidden

    Sexy Reads – Forbidden

    “Bestselling Romance Author Kiki Howell provides a taste of the sun, sand, waves, and a certain sexy as hell male body no woman in their right mind could resist, in this mainstream romance novella. Take a cruise with Forbidden and meet Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious as he provides Samantha with her greatest adventure yet, in the bedroom and out.”

    Excerpt

    When the door clicked behind her, his body moved to hers like a magnet. His strong hands rubbed down her back, over flesh and then material, to stop just above her ass. He pulled her against him, fierce, showing a loss of control that excited her. Looking up, her heart feeling like it was in her stomach made the butterflies there flutter with more determination. His hair, now free of the rubber band, framed his face with silky curls. One wild and unruly section of strands covered his left eye, while several others fell over his right shoulder. Jacket and tie already gone, the open buttons of his dress shirt revealed the chiseled muscles of his chest she’d already imprinted in her mind.

    “Can I kiss you?” he growled, the gravely tone of his voice savage and wonderfully unsettling.

    The serious lines etched in his face broke for a second into an unconscious smirk before relaxing back into their natural state of tempestuous scrutiny, like he was on the edge of some fantastic discovery. At this moment, she knew he wanted to explore her. The knowledge of that fact sent a cool shiver down her spine, one soon doused by the heat rapidly building in her core.

    When words failed her, his brows furrowed, his lush, black lashes semi-covered the stormy look in his eyes. She steadied her hand by running her finger over the course hair of his moustache. Following the thin trail of hair past his lips to his chin, she settled on the small patch just below his bottom lip. A perfect triangle within a perfect square, the hair tickled her fingers, alighting every nerve ending until she throbbed, wondering how his face would feel rubbing over the sensitive skin of her mound.

    His blood-red lips open again, this time his mouth fell into a full smile. She dared to touch his lips, finding the skin warm and soft. Still grinning at her like a tiger about to devour prey, something primal and maybe even sinister lurking in small upturn of his lips, she startled when he nipped at her finger.

    “You’re stalling, denying yourself. Why?” he questioned, his voice deep and sultry, devouring her senses.

    She merely shrugged, letting her other hand fall to the hard lines of his shoulders, and then drop to the dip at the base of his neck. This move kept her hands from rubbing over the chill running over her arms. Her shawl, now a puddle on the floor, didn’t have that much to do with the intense shivers crawling over her skin.

    “I scare you?” He frowned, his voice deeper than usual. “I can see it in your eyes.”

    “In the best way,” she finally got out. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’d never been with someone like you. Stormy. Untamed. Strong. Dark… I don’t know how to put it. The mystery you are to me, rich kid, but not spoiled, smart and strong, intense and loving. I don’t know what kind of lover you’ll be. I guess that excites me as much as terrifies me.”

    “I’ve no chains to tie you to the bed with, though, if you’re expecting that, I could surely improvise such a thing.” He laughed, a slight sound that resonated a playful hint at the base nature of violence.

    “With thoughts of dark overlords or the mafia when I look at you, I can’t say some capture fantasy hasn’t snuck through my mind. Whatever you do, don’t treat me like some breakable woman, this faerie or angel you’ve spoken of.”

    “The faeries and angels I create are badass, tough, able to take on the roughest, most rogue of warriors.”

    “Good to know,” she got out, despite the hitch in her breathing.

    He moved her hand, still on his face, to the side as he leaned in to kiss her. Brutish at first, his lips pressed to hers in that intoxicating line between pleasure and pain. His hand moved up to curl into her hair, grasp a handful and use it to tug her head back, gaining him more access, leaving her more exposed to his wiles.

    His lips and teeth scraped down over her chin to her neck, feasting there until she felt he’d take a chunk out of her flesh. Instead, he nibbled. He sucked. He licked over the red and warm skin he’d created.

    She grabbed at his arms to hold herself upright, his muscles bunched under her palms. Her fingers tried to dig in, to hold on, but there was no give to the sinewy mass of man she had hold of. As if he sensed her plight, his free arm circled her, pressed her against his body, holding her upright as her shaky legs failed to support her.

    A curvy, lightly muscled woman, she felt light in his grip. What she had of female softness melted up against all his rugged edges. And then, he let her go. With a shake of his head, he stepped back from her until he stepped out of the shadows of the entryway into the light of the bedroom. Standing up straight, his shoulders squared, and his feet planted firmly on the ground in an open stance. He appeared to be holding himself back from the verge of attack. With determined movements, he reached out for her hands and lured her further into the room.

    The sliding glass door on the far side of his cabin stood open. Another broken rule, the sign on the door posted that due to air-conditioning with central controls the doors to the decks had to remain closed to conserve energy. The sound of the water rushing against the fast moving ship added to the sense of danger that hadn’t let go of her, had kept her pulse racing since she’d started toward this forbidden room.

    “May I?’ His hands toyed with the straps of her dress.

    “No,” she answered, her shaky voice now steady. She’d found an allure in standing up for herself, taking what she wanted, too, in the face of such a beast. She’d never backed down before, never relinquished control, and she didn’t want to start now. She wanted not to tame this beast, but to control him like a trainer would, with respect for the danger the animal posed, while admiring the beauty of his wild strength.

    “I’m sorry,” he spoke, his voice so deep she could barely make out the words.

    “Don’t be. You first,” she demanded, standing up straighter herself.

    “I see.” He huffed, a twinkle in his darkening eyes.

    “No, I want to see.” She smirked.

    Closing the gap between them, she took to unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. Moving her hands over his broad shoulders she pushed the silk aside, let it fall to the floor. He stood like some statue of a Greek god come to life, only with a light bronze skin tone and the sharp lines of black tattoos. Up his arm, from wrist to bicep, the jagged lines appeared like flames. Softer and shorter versions of the same aimed downward from his shoulder, more flames in a war with the first, battling it out for space over the bulging of his arm muscles.

    This same look of fire licked around his six-pack abs, framing them, but never letting the ink mark an inch of the perfect definition of his waist. That illustrious v-taper of muscle that stood out just about the waist of his pants had ink on the left side only, dark flames that came from under his pants, followed the definition of his trim hips. His belt pulled tight, remained the only reason they were still on.

    “More,” she demanded, her arms rigid at her sides.

    “Feisty. I like it,” he growled, more animalistic than before.

    Yet, he obeyed. This thrilled her even more, to have such control over one so malevolent and brutish. She rode the high as he undid his belt with determined movements. His erection sprung up strong when he pushed his pants down past his hips. They soon hit the floor with a whoosh of material that sent goose bumps traveling up her arms. Unashamed, and why should he be, he stood still, controlled, only the bunching of his muscles, legs, chest, arms, gave her any hint of just what it took to remain as he was.

    “You’re perfection,” she breathed out.

    “I’m glad you think so. But, how long do you plan to make me just stand here like some statue in a museum? I’m not really perfect. And, I want you.”

    “You can wait. I’m an adventurer, remember? And, I have this need to explore such unchartered territory. Besides, I think I’m getting off on controlling such a dark beast as yourself.”

    “If that’s some challenge, then test me. I play games to win, so give it your best shot.” His voice steady, deep, daring.

    “I plan to.” She matched him, her voice at full volume, unwavering. The only hint of trembling came from excitement, not fear now.

    If this were an episode of Survivor, he’d be the island, beautiful with hidden dangers, and she’d play the game with confidence, and play it well, until she discovered where each gem and pearl lie hidden. She wouldn’t be voted off this island.

    Moving in, she stood to the side of his outstretched cock, careful not to touch it just yet. She traced her fingers over the tribal tattoo, as if she could find some veiled clue as to the man in his markings. If she could just read between the strong, and now trembling lines, she’d discover just what made him tick, and then make him hers for life. The errant thought gave her only a second’s pause before she stepped behind him.

    The dragon on his back looked about to fly away. Again, abstract, tribal in nature, there could be no mistaking the mythical creature and the power it held. Her hands now flat on his upper back, she kissed the head, and then the tips of the wings of this guardian image. The full symbolism of the creature suited this man.

    He groaned deep in his throat as her hands ran over his skin to his rock hard ass. The muscles flexed and then relaxed, letting her press with her fingertips until small white circles formed around her fingers. Lowering to her knees, she kissed him, bit him, and licked him, as he’d done to her neck, being consumed by the sensations even as she practically devoured the man. Her heart racing now, her stomach a tight coil, she followed each whim, kissed every inch of him she felt possessed to explore.

    Moving around to the front of him again, she took his length into her mouth, as much as she could handle, and felt the strain of a smile from her otherwise occupied mouth as she heard the catch of his breath in his throat.

    “Are you trying to kill me,” he hissed in a raspy voice, barely able to speak.

    His fists clenched by her ears, he obviously strained to resist touching her. Good beast, she thought as she let his erection fall from her mouth. Moving in under his wet cock, she took in the scent of him, all male, light sweat and some faint scent of soap. His balls hung heavy, but she nudged them with her nose before she caressed them with her lips. The taunt line of flesh between his legs she kissed, nuzzling into the most intimate part of his body. Her hands on his massive thighs, she felt the muscles there contract and shake.

    Whatever possessed her now, she gave into the raging, feral, impetuous drive. Kissing down the inside of his leg, she moved to his feet. Strong, thick, solid with veins now popping out on the top of them, she bowed of her own accord, and kissed all the way to his toes. What the hell, she had no problem worshiping this god of a man. Not tonight. She had no problems at all.

    She looked up at him, the whole of his body raged, each muscle tight with more veins bulging, as if he’d just finished a workout, a thin sheen of sweat glistened over his skin. Coming to stand, she took a few steps back to admire her work. The full body display he gave her, erect, tall, tight, stood juxtaposed to the waving of the soft, sheer curtain behind him.

    A rumble of thunder in the distance silenced the vicious crashing of the waves for a second as the boat ripped through the stormy seas. The energy of this, the sheer, white-hot thrill of the entire situation, gave her an electrified shiver that sparked a primitive need deep inside her to be taken, to unleash the monster she’d help create before her. Make up your mind! She wanted it all. One night would never be enough.

    Pushing past the dismal thoughts of the unknown future, with trembling fingers she moved the straps of her dress off her shoulders.

    “Stay,” she warned him, when she saw his biceps bunch.

    The sound that ripped from his throat was unrecognizable. She could only describe it as a small roar of frustration. She fully understood. Mimicking his stance, she undid her bra and slid off her panties in two quick motions, luxuriating in the feel of the silk rushing over her skin. His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. His breathing rumbled from his chest in tumultuous waves of sound.

    When a streak of lightening lit the sky behind him, she released him with a phrase that made her giggle slightly as she braced for the impact.

    “Release the kraken.”

    Continue reading Forbidden by Kiki Howell at the following links:

    Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TJI5L58

    Barnes & Noble https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-forbidden-1758604-149.html

    All Romance Ebooks https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-forbidden-1758604-149.html

    Naughty Nights Press http://naughtynightspress.com/nnpstore2/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=6&products_id=121

    Image courtesy of Kiki Howell

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  • Sexy Reads – Theirs to Claim

    Sexy Reads – Theirs to Claim

    While FBI special agents Gabriel McPherson and Noah Johnston are away closing in on yet another child predator, the woman they’ve secretly loved for years is home, in their small north Georgia town, dealing with the crushing weight of an unknown stalker of her own. The fiend sends Emily Matherson photos weekly, growing ever bolder over time, showing an interest that sends a clear message of need and dominance. When Gabriel and Noah finally realize what has been going on in their absence, it will become a race against time to protect Emily her own predator, while also finally claiming her and making her theirs, at long last.

    Excerpt

    Emily lay on the sofa with her eyes closed, sure that she was in bliss. Her head was in Gabriel’s lap, and he was slowly trailing his fingers through her hair. She could feel the sun’s rays on her skin, even though it was streaming in through the barrier of the window panes. Still, it was like giving a person who’d been locked in solitary confinement the keys to the prison yard. It warmed not only her skin, but also her soul.

    Noah joined them on the sofa once he’d cleaned the kitchen and he took his place at her feet. He got comfortable, settling his large frame down on the plush fabric cushions, then he slipped first one of her socks off and then the other. He lifted Emily’s left foot and began a slow massage that made her jump and open her eyes.

    “Steady,” Noah chuckled. “I know you’re ticklish, Emily. I’ll be gentle.”

    “Lie back down and close your eyes,” Gabriel said softly.

    She nodded and tried to lie still, though she couldn’t help but flinch each time Noah’s adept fingers ran across her instep. A rumble of laughter rolled through Gabriel’s chest, and she narrowed her eyes at him in return.

    “Close them, Em,” Gabriel warned in that stern tone that made shivers run down her spine.

    Emily could tell that he knew exactly what effect he was having on her when he used it, because his lips pressed into a firm line with just the tiniest hint of a smile pulling the right corner of his lips up. It made him look masterful and completely in charge. And something deep within Emily responded to that.

    “Yes, Gabriel,” she whispered. Emily dutifully closed her eyes, but not before she caught the fire that flashed in his blue eyes.

    He dug his fingers into her scalp, intensifying his massage. Taking over and letting her know he was most assuredly in charge of her for as long as she’d let him. Emily decided not to hold out on them, but to voice her response. Hadn’t Noah said he wanted to hear the words? Well, Emily thought, maybe they both wanted to hear every breathless sigh that their touch produced too.

    She tilted her head back in Gabriel’s lap and blew out a heavy breath. Her back arched and Emily pressed her right foot against Noah’s inner thigh, curling her toes just a bit. She listened intently and was rewarded when she heard him groan softly. Oh, this was so much better than watching them while she got them hot and bothered, Emily thought. She felt a little bolder with her eyes closed and she liked the freedom it won her.

    Emily slipped a hand under her t-shirt and gradually ran her palm over her stomach, then upwards towards her left breast. She circled her nipple again and again until it stood in a rigid peak and then she began to pluck at it, teasing the pleasure point until she started to squirm between them.

    Her breath came out in shallow puffs, as her hand left her breast and skated down her abdomen. She delved into her shorts and found her clitoris, rigid and alert to her touch. Noah pressed hard on her instep just as she touched her clit and cried out.

    She felt Gabriel’s hands leave her head and he clasped the hem of her shirt, then he rolled it up and off of her. Noah’s hands abandoned her foot and he reached for the button on her shorts. Emily lifted her hips when she felt him tug the garment, and soon it was a thing of the past too.

    Both men drew in an audible breath, and Emily felt sure it was because she had skipped wearing any underwear after her shower with Noah. It had just felt decadent to go without, and she liked the awareness of her body it had brought. Every time she moved, the cotton of her shirt had abraded her nipples and her shorts had rubbed her clit in such a way as to keep her constantly aroused.

    She’d said nothing throughout breakfast, but now they knew. And from the sound of their labored breathing, Emily thought that they were not disappointed by their discovery.

    “Keep your eyes closed, Emily,” Gabriel directed.

    “Yes, Gabe,” she said again, smiling as she uttered the compliant words.

    His hands covered her breasts, gently kneading the mounds and pushing them together. Noah’s fingers ran up her legs at the same time, seeking and getting closer to her own hand. He clasped her wrist and slid her hand down to her side. Ever so slowly, Noah pushed her thighs apart.

    Emily arched up again as she felt Gabriel pinch her nipples and Noah blow warm air across her pussy. She reached for them, her left hand colliding with the solid wall of Gabriel’s chest. But Noah was just out of reach. He halted her seeking fingers midair and placed her right hand back down on the sofa, tapping her wrist and letting her know she was to keep it there.

    “Guys…” she panted, suddenly needing to see them, to connect with them in some other way.

    “Shhh,” Gabriel corrected her. “Eyes closed or we stop.”

    Emily whimpered, but nodded. She had started this, but quickly lost control of the game. And now they were going to finish it. Or her, she thought ruefully.

    But she trusted them, and she needed this. Needed to let go of all the worry and anxiety that had plagued her life for over eight weeks. And if ever there were others who knew her needs, inside and out, it was Gabriel and Noah.

    She’d grown up fast, dealing with the loss of her parents and then her grandparents. And though she’d had Gabriel and Noah to lean on, Emily had never had them like this. Not really. Not as her partners and her lovers. Never shared what they could now.

    Yes, Emily said to herself, it was time for someone else to make the decisions.

    So, she drew in a deep breath and gave herself over to their care. She gave herself over to the moment and with her surrender, Emily found true freedom. The kind of freedom she hadn’t experienced not just in the last two months, but in all of her twenty-three years.

    Gabriel stopped breathing the moment Emily’s body went soft and yielding. He had never analyzed why he liked control in the bedroom. Never acknowledged that darker edge of what he really craved, yet had not explored with another. He’d never felt comfortable taking the reins in such a way, for fear that the few brief partners he’d had would think he was overbearing, unfeeling, or uncaring.

    But in that one glorious second, he got it. As if someone had just dropped an anvil on his thick head. It wasn’t about control at all. It was surrender. For them both.

    He watched all of the tension and worry leave Emily’s brow, the lines easing away. Her breathing calmed and her muscles relaxed. It was a supreme moment of trust. And that was the key. It was all about trust. The reason why he’d never felt for another, what he did for Emily. He’d never trusted them enough or himself to let them in, or to truly let go.

    God, he loved this woman. Loved that he could be himself with her, without fear that Emily didn’t want what he was offering. He could be a cranky bastard at times, he knew. But normally Emily would just chuckle at his bluster and give him such a sweet and honest smile. One that reached her eyes – one that came from her heart.

    It was the same smile that now graced her lips as she lay there stretched out between him and Noah, completely giving them her body. Her heart. A lifetime of her love. Her everything.

    Trust was a two-way street, and Gabriel knew he’d never gotten what it was all about, like he did in that one moment.

    Gabriel’s eyes lifted from Emily’s body to meet Noah’s gaze, and he saw the same shock and reverence reflected there. Noah arched an eyebrow at him, and cocked his head to the side, his fingers no longer exploring her delicate folds. Gabe knew that Noah realized the significance of the moment too, and was just as committed to not destroying the trust Emily had just placed squarely in their hands.

    With a slow nod from Gabriel, they began again. But this time, with a totally different objective. This was no fast race to completion. This was slow, sensual love-making at their direction.

    Continue reading Theirs to Claim at the following link:

    http://www.amazon.com/Theirs-Claim-Predatory-Desires-Book-ebook/dp/B00VLIGZ1S

    Image courtesy of Diana McKinley

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  • Sexy Reads – Dai’s Dark Valentine

    Sexy Reads – Dai’s Dark Valentine

    What happens when a sheltered cat-shifter and a dark fey come together? Born in 18th Century France, Daitre is a beautiful, naïve heiress whose true heritage has been kept secret, even from her, but now that her abilities are emerging, her father’s enemies want her dead. When Joban, professional guard and dark fey, agrees to marry her, he whisks her three-hundred years into the future, but their enemies have followed – more deadly than ever.

    Dais Dark Valentine Cover 1400x1960

    Excerpt

    “Breathe, Dai! You’re forgetting the first thing I taught you. Where’s your head today? Were you not standing next to me when Auriel said our enemies are not only murdering us at will, but capturing and doing studies on us?”

    Daitre lowered her arm and replaced the gun’s safety. She took an anxious breath. Since their brief moment several days ago, he’d seldom looked at her, distancing himself whenever she tried to get his attention for anything other than training.

    “Am I training you too hard? You’ve done well all week. What’s different today?”

    “Stop yelling at me! I’m just tired. Don’t you think I’m already scared enough? Do you think I want to be murdered, captured, treated like a lab rat? We’ve gone from two times a day to three times a day, I’m running, sparring, you’ve taught me to pick a lock, jump-start a car, and I’ve learned to use every weapon on that table of yours in just over a week. You told me yourself I learned so fast I must be a natural, but I need more than training to live. I need more than survival training. I’m human, Joban, and you seem to forget that…you always have.”

    “Everything I do is to keep you safe, Dai, and you are not human. Time is not—”

    She turned swiftly, put the gun back in its place on the table, then left the basement without another word. Once again, he missed the point. She needed his attention, his acceptance, his love.

    Screaming in her head demanded she return to him, follow his instructions, do whatever she needed to please him, but her instincts won out when she reminded herself that more of the same on her part would produce more of the same from him, and she desperately needed something different.

    Daitre stepped into the bedroom bath and dashed cold water on her face to keep from crying, Auriel’s words running through her mind. The fear of being captured, poked and prodded by her father’s enemies haunted her.

    She hit the light switch, stepping out of the bathroom with every intention of going straight to her bed for a much needed nap, but as she passed his make-shift bed, she couldn’t help stopping. Daitre sat, tentative at first, but the deafening silence in the room urged her on.

    She lifted his pillow to her face and rested her cheek against it, his cinnamon and woods scent prompting her to inhale deeply, eyes closed. The mere scent of him triggered a reaction in her body, causing her to stretch, savoring the pleasant tingle zinging straight to her clit and flashing outward again, a delicious warmth infusing her body – arousal.

    She dropped the pillow and jumped up, eyes wide. Joban stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable until his mouth covered hers. She knew he’d used his time-bending ability because she hadn’t seen him move. One moment he watched her embarrassing display from the doorway, the next he was on her, his huge arms wrapped around her waist, lips claiming hers.

    Her mind raced but her body responded on instinct, clinging to him, writhing to be free of every and anything separating her from him. As if he heard her plea, Joban released her long enough to respond in his usual dictatorial manner.

    “Take these off.” He used his eyes to stress his meaning, stoking her fire with a head to toe gaze, stormy gray depths offering a glimpse of yet another side of him she longed to explore further. She removed her dress with one hand, the other in contact with him at all times, sliding along his torso, tracing his Adam’s apple, gliding around to the muscles at his back. She’d wanted to touch him like this for so long. Now that she had access, she didn’t dare let go, fearful he’d change his mind.

    Finally, she stood before him naked, grateful for the scarcity of clothing women of this time wore, skin burning as her inner lioness pressed outward, raring to pounce. Joban bent just enough to wrap his forearms around her thighs and lifted her from the floor as he stood, her head and shoulders above his.
    Her lioness stretched against him, placing her hands on his broad, muscular shoulders to brace herself.

    Joban wrapped one arm under her buttocks and placed the other hand at her back to support her, sliding his tongue around her belly button and dipping it inside before allowing her to glide down his torso, her long legs wrapping around his waist automatically as she reached eye level again.
    He carried her to the bed and gently placed her in the center, his knee between her thighs.

    He rose and removed his T-shirt, angry red tribal tattoos making him even more irresistible, drawing an inner roar from her jungle cat.

    She brushed his dark hair out of his eyes, always just a little too long in the front, and he caught her wrist, lifting it to his lips to place a kiss on the inside.
    Daitre raised her other hand to frame his face, prominent cheekbones and hard, masculine jawline giving at her touch, his entire body heated, coiled, and she lay back, satisfied in knowing he would take complete control. Her cat purred, pleased for once.

    Joban did not disappoint, leaning down to nip her neck and shoulders, then blazing a path of tiny circles with his tongue from the tiny hollow between her breasts to her trembling navel, hungry for his invasion again. The texture of his tongue on her soft skin burned, the sensation new and exciting, like wet, fine sandpaper, preparing her, molding her.

    His movements pierced the intense silence, the wispy sounds of crisp sheets, skin sliding against skin, and her gaze fell on the tiny nuances of his muscular back, every movement, every vibration increasing her need to feel him inside her, thick and hard like the rest of his overpowering body.

    She understood the intensity and nature of her desire for him in that moment. She wanted to be consumed by him, taken passionately, thoroughly, something she’d never imagined let alone wanted before she met him.

    Read more about Dai’s Dark Valentine from Dariel Raye at the follow links:

    Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo | Smashwords

    Dai’s Dark Valentine Trailer

    Image courtesy of Dariel Raye

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  • Sexy Reads – Katie in Love

    Sexy Reads – Katie in Love

    After Katie Boyd meets the young volunteer doctor Tom Bridge at a party, the sex is intimate, passionate, life-changing. When Katie in the coming weeks feels as if she is falling in love, she is not certain that it is what she wants. Her reflections on life, friends, education, her tastes in music and literature, is a search for who she is and where life might lead if she follows him to Sri Lanka where Tom runs an orphanage.

    Excerpt

    If you add the shadow of death to a moment of passion you are in that instant free of all normal ties, your mind grows still and your body enters a state of non-being. Pleasure and pain, sex and death, yin and yang are mismatched twins, two fish each containing the eye of its opposite.

    I wrote that sentence before my morning appointment with the doctor. It means nothing in isolation but I awoke with those words in my head and committed them to paper – the keyboard, the monitor. The winter is cold, bleak, colourless. There are no clouds, no sky, just a grey blanket like a shroud lowering over London.

    The little finger on my right hand has a fracture. It is painful. The doctor spent a long time with my hand like a song bird nursed in his palm, his shirt cuff clipped with an onyx link, the gold face of his watch gripped by the strap nesting in a hairy wrist. Broken fingers are oddly intimate.

    ‘You do look pale,’ he said.

    ‘Yes, I noticed in the mirror.’

    ‘Are you sick?’

    ‘Yes…’

    He squeezed my good fingers. ‘Do you want to tell me?’

    I sighed. ‘I write, you know, books…’

    ‘Ah,’ he replied.

    He nodded wisely. He understood. Writing is a sickness, an ailment, an addiction. When I’m not writing, I’m thinking about what I have written that day and, when I do go to bed, I lie sleeplessly thinking about what I am going to write when I get up and start again the following day.

    I am a night person, an insomniac, the girl at the bar who looks like she should have gone home and maybe has no home to go to. A false image I cultivate. I am thin, theoretically attractive, in an abstract sort of way. I have hollow cheeks, high cheekbones, long legs, perhaps too thin, lips dry with cold, clotted with gloss. I have stopped being promiscuous and compose my work in the dead hours between two and six while London sleeps and the night planes follow the Thames into Heathrow carrying businessmen and migrants hoping to make it in the greatest city on earth. When you are bored with London you are bored with life. That’s what it says along the side of the number 19 bus Mother takes to Peter Jones.

    When I do sleep, I sleep badly, in spite of the magnets under my mattress that are supposed to orientate my body north to south so the lay lines and dragon lines pass through the invisible portal at the top of my skull and down to my feet, my best feature, I would soon be told.

    I have worked as a tutor, in marketing, and for a women’s magazine, which involved writing captions for interiors and combat with photographers fixated on depth and apertures. Regular working doesn’t suit me, it interferes with writing, and now I earn my rent as a waitress at corporate events where the high priests of the City banks congratulate themselves by drinking buckets of champagne and falling over. The change of job meant a dip in my salary, so I moved, from West London, where rents cost the earth, to East London, where the cost is broken streets, a fall and a fractured finger.

    It was the finger that saved my life.

    The story begins on New Year’s Eve. Having dumped Julian, an actor with floppy hair and lots of good teeth, I went with a girlfriend I don’t particularly like to a tartan-themed charity ball in a kilt too short and my little finger bound to its partner in blue tape. There is something oddly poignant going to a ball with another woman and she must have felt the same way, abandoning me, as she did, for the first hairy-kneed faux Scotsman to say och aye the noo over the long candle-lit table.

    After dinner consisting of haggis, which I didn’t eat, I danced alone on the fringes of the swaying crowd like a stray swallow chasing the migrating flock.

    A man appeared.

    They usually do.

    Men in the 21st century are no longer hunter gatherers. They are game players, artists, sculptors. They see me across the rainbow of fiesta lights as a blank canvas requiring their signature in a gooey splash of scribbled jism; a column of alabaster that needs to be reshaped, their sculpting hands eager to rid me of my clothes and go to work with their carving tools. I could be perfect, just perfect, if I only gave them the chance. The man, this shimmying shaking dancer, is wearing tartan socks, plus fours, like a lost golfer, and a Tam o’Shanter that gives him the earthy, intense look of Che Guevara.

    ‘Dance?’

    ‘I am dancing?’ I answered.

    ‘That’s not dancing, it’s just moving about.’

    ‘I have a bad finger.’

    ‘Not a very good kilt either.’

    I liked him immediately. I can’t stand men who say nice things as they push back their floppy hair.

    ‘Drink?’

    ‘That’s very generous of you, seeing how the bar’s free.’

    We drank whisky.

    ‘Twelve year old malt,’ he said.

    ‘You know about those things?’

    ‘No. I’m just flirting with you.’

    ‘Honesty can be very unattractive,’ I said and he shrugged.

    ‘I know, it’s so hard to do the right thing.’

    ‘Or know what it is.’

    He tossed back his drink. So did I. He refilled the glasses. My eyes prickled as I swallowed the fiery fluid and the band silenced before a drum roll. A man leapt on the stage, the skirts of his kilt like a sail, and announced in a Highland accent…

    ‘Twenty seconds…’ He looked at his watch, paused, then counted backwards: ‘Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…’

    And we kissed.

    Continue reading Katie in Love by Chloe Thurlow at:

    Link for Amazon downloads – http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00S1SMMIG

    Link for Amazon books – http://bookgoodies.com/a/1503014908

    Image courtesy of Chloe Thurlow

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