Tag: Erotica

  • Sexy Reads – Heat Wave for Five

    Sexy Reads – Heat Wave for Five

    Karen and Mike had their first group sex experience last week, and when three of their friends come over for a dinner party, Karen quickly realizes she wants it all to happen again tonight. So she devises a plan, and pretty soon she’s twerking tongues with Cassandra. When everyone else doesn’t immediately join in, Karen decides it’s time for a game.

    Excerpt

    I could tell she was thinking about it.

    The two of us—Cassandra and I—made our way into the living room while everyone else put their dishes away and refilled their wine glasses. She sat down right next to me on our couch.

    She lowered her voice. “So, um, not to be weird, but is the offer, like, actually on the table?”

    I didn’t respond. It was from me. I just didn’t want to speak for everyone else.

    “I mean, it seemed like it, but no one came out and said, like, ‘let’s do it I want to do it.’ You know?”

    Was it possible she really wanted to? It sure sounded like it.

    I didn’t think. I just acted.

    I kissed her on the lips. Hers were soft and sweet. I could taste the wine on her lips.

    At first they didn’t open. They pursed and retreated, though not quite enough to lose contact. But I could feel her start to think. There was a moment where she stopped completely and asked herself if she really wanted to do this.

    And then she gave in.

    When her tongue enmeshed with mine, they danced intensely. I mean, they were twerking. Our tongues twerked inside each other’s mouths. I could feel the strength of her desire, the heat of her longing. It was like she was being unleashed.

    I don’t know how long we made out. It could have been ten seconds; it could have been ten minutes.

    “Ho-lee shit.” The voice behind us finally brought us to a stop.

    It was Mike. He turned over his left shoulder.

    “Hey Dani! Kyle! Cassandra and my girlfriend were just making out.”

    “What? No way!” Both of them spoke at once. I heard a clatter of feet, and then two excited faces appeared next to Mike’s.

    “Do it again!” Mike said.

    “Guys, we’re not just going to—“

    But before I could finish my sentence, Cassandra’s lips covered mine.

    I could hear the crowd behind us cheer as our tongues once again interlocked. Now our hands joined the frenzy. She explored the flat of my back, my shoulder blades, and my rib cage. Then her hands found the curves of my ass. They squeezed my cheeks, and my muscles clenched in response. I heard her release a moan.

    Okay, time for me to get involved.

    I wanted to feel her breasts underneath my hands. I snaked my hands under her shirt and moved them up her ribs and stomach until I felt the bottom underwire of her bra. My fingers slid underneath her bra and clawed their way toward her nipples.

    She moved her mouth to my neck as I did this, sucking and biting at my neck. I could hear Mike muttering “holy shit…” behind me as he noticed my hands groping her relentlessly.

    Her mouth took a break from my skin. “Like what you see, guys?” Cassandra said.

    “I think they do,” I whispered in her ear. She quieted me with her lips, and we resumed our aggressive make out session.

    I knew where this was going. I reached for the bottom of her shirt, grasped the stitching, and began to pull the shirt up and over her head.

    “Whoa, whoa, hold on,” said Cassandra.

    I was crestfallen. I thought we were just about to experience a mind-blowing orgy. I was getting all wrapped up in the anticipation, the excitement of what was about to come…

    “Did everyone like where that was headed?” asked Cassandra.

    I swiveled my head back to our audience. They nodded dumbly, giggling.

    “Then let’s have some fun with this,” Cassandra said, pulling her shirt back down. “Let’s play a game.

    “Who wants to fill up my wine glass?”


     

    Want to read the rest of Heat Wave for Five?  Purchase it on Amazon at:

    http://www.amazon.com/Heat-Wave-Five-Friends-Group-ebook/dp/B00OYN6MXS/ref=sr_1_17?ie=UTF8&qid=1418321132&sr=8-17&keywords=Piper+Lee+Webb&pebp=1418321132548


    Image courtesy of Piper Lee Webb
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  • Sexy Reads – Underneath the Gargoyle

    Sexy Reads – Underneath the Gargoyle

    Underneath the Gargoyle: A Prologue

    What really happened between Kyle’s parents? A PROLOGUE explores the kinky back story which occurs about 18 years prior to the beginning of Christina Harding’s UNDERNEATH THE GARGOYLE series.

    Excerpt

    Marissa stares up at the gargoyles at the top of the church and frowns. She fumbles with her polaroid camera, frames one of the gargoyles in the viewfinder using the zoom function to get a close-up, and snaps a picture, her fingers going numb in the frigid cold air. I wish I had my textbook on gothic churches with me, Marissa thinks as she stands in front of the church, waving the polaroid and waiting for it to develop. Her eyes widen with excitement as she remembers she did, in fact, bring the text.

    Still waiting for the photo to develop, Marissa sits down on the steps of the church, despite the fact that they have iced over, and flips through the pages until she finds what she’s looking for. There is an entire chapter devoted to this church with detailed photographs of its features, including the gargoyles. She finds a photo of her gargoyle, the one who looks like a dragon. He is sitting in a crouching position, as usual, and he is baring his teeth as if he’s about to exhale a ferocious flame of fire.

    The polaroid of this same gargoyle is starting to come into focus, but his teeth aren’t bared. He’s crouching, but he’s staring almost peacefully off into the distance. Her heart racing, Marissa slips the photo into the text as a bookmark, and stands up to get another look at the gargoyle.

    His teeth are bared again like in the textbook, but not like the polaroid she took just moments ago. What the heck? Marissa thinks. Trembling, she looks down at her polaroid again. How could this be possible? The gargoyle must have moved while I was flipping through my textbook! she thinks. She takes another photo of the dragon-like gargoyle, now baring his teeth, and then sets off, hustling to the university with a skip in her step.

    “Professor John!” Marissa calls out to her thesis advisor, knocking on the door to his office. He opens the door.

    “Marissa!” he says, sounding surprised. “Come on in!” he opens the door wide, and Marissa slips through. His office is warm and welcoming with a fire sparkling in the fireplace.

    “I have found some solid evidence to support my theory of cryptozoology.” she announces, excited and still breathless from running.

    Professor John closes the door to his office and sits down at his desk, waving for her to sit down too. “What have you found?” He sounds eager.

    “The gargoyle on top of the church,” she pulls out her two photographs, “I caught him moving today.” Marissa hands her photos to the Professor.

    He adjusts his reading glasses and gives the polaroids a long look. “When did you take these pictures?”

    “Maybe fifteen minutes ago. I came straight here. I took the photos only about a minute or two apart,” Marissa rushes to explain.

    “You realize the implications of this are huge?” Professor John says, placing the pictures on his desk. “This could be a major breakthrough in the study of cryptozoology.” Marissa’s heart swells with excitement, but the professor continues, “You know, not everyone is going to believe the authenticity of these photos. To date, every picture of a cryptid has been debunked. How are you going to prove that your photos are genuine and that they were taken only within minutes of each other? Who’s to say they weren’t taken years apart and that the gargoyle was not modified?”

    Marissa finds herself flushing; she was not expecting such a skeptical reaction. Stammering for a response, she asks, “Do you believe me?”

    “I think, a girl such as yourself, should not sully her hands in such matters.”

    Shocked, Marissa is speechless.

    Noticing her vulnerability, Professor John continues, “It must have been hard to get here so quickly.” He looks pointedly at Marissa’s stretching belly. “When are you due?”

    Marissa rubs her growing bump, finding her voice again, “In thirty-five days.”

    “As it seems, a child out of wedlock will cast shadow on your moral integrity. You are going to need someone to support your claim, someone with credibility.”

    “As my thesis advisor, can’t you…?” Marissa begins to ask.

    “Oh yes, that would seem like the obvious choice, wouldn’t it?” Rising from his seat, Professor John rounds his desk and approaches Marissa, “That would require extra effort on my part. And so, I would expect extra from you in return.”

    Hoping she’s hearing him correctly, Marissa eagerly responds, “Oh thank you, Professor! I would be happy to do whatever it takes!”

    Professor John reaches up and brushes the hair on the side of her cheek. “I was hoping you would say that.” His hand traces down her neck and starts circling her breast.

    Marissa tries to back up, but has nowhere to go. She tries to protest, “I love Matthew Cohen.”

    “Even though he won’t marry you? He has left you for any man to take.” Professor John reaches up with his other hand and starts caressing both of her breasts.

    “Matthew’s status with the church requires certain obligations.” Marissa futilely explains. She tries to squirm away from the Professor.

    “None of this. Lay down on my desk now,” the Professor commands.

    “No, and get your hands off me!” Marissa insists. She stands up and attempts to brush by the Professor, but he blocks her way.

    “If you’re not going to play nicely, I can just get rid of your evidence,” the professor says, grabbing the polaroids off of his desk and holding them over the fire.

    “No! Don’t!!” Marissa exclaims, lying down on the desk. “Please….”

    “I knew you would come around.” Much to her surprise, the Professor grabs the elastic waist band of her maternity clothes and pulls them down exposing her to the office. Marissa tries to clench her legs together in a last attempt for modesty, but even as she does so, she feels her pussy start to tingle with expectancy.

    The Professor pries her legs open and props them on his shoulders, one on each. Marissa feels the heat of the fire directly on her most private space as it starts to drip. Out of obligation, Marissa cries out, “Please don’t. I love Matthew!” even though her body is yearning for more.

    Ignoring her pleas, the Professor zips down his fly and pulls out his swollen cock through the front of his boxers. Even though the skin around his potbelly is loose with middle age, his rod is still firm and hard, ready to enter this flesh which is thirty years younger than himself. Professor John caresses Marissa’s youthful labia with the head of his dick, following the folds around her cunt. Marissa tingles as a rush of blood to her pussy makes her fully engorged. She moans.

    The professor is still fully dressed in his suit, his pants hiked up around his waist. Just his pink, swollen dick is unveiled, poking out of his boxers from a mass of curly pubic hair. Meanwhile, Marissa is completely exposed from the waist down, and her shirt is starting to ride up over her swollen belly.

    Smearing his pre-cum across her labia, the Professor observes, “I wonder how much you really love him. You seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit.” He poises the tip of his cock right at the opening of her throbbing hole, entering her with just the head, wavering on the brink of her crevice.

    “Oh please…” Marissa starts whimpering. But as she says it, she realizes she’s not asking him to stop, but actually begging for more.

    “Now tell me, what are you planning on naming your child?”

    Marissa tries to focus, “If it’s a boy, we want to name him Kyle.”

    The Professor enters her completely. Marissa’s vagina seizes with surprise, but releases with pleasure. She feels a gush of wet escape her pussy. “Kyle is a solid name,” the Professor tells her.

    He draws slowly out of her, but then thrusts in again, quickly. Marissa shouts, “Oh, Professor John!” Her body shakes with pleasure, droplets of sweat forming on her pregnant belly.

    Her baby has increased the pressure inside of her, making her tighter than she was as a virgin. Her toes curl as she revels in the exquisite sensation. She’s more sensitive than she’s ever been before. Maybe it’s the change in my hormones? she asks herself. Marissa can feel Professor John’s every movement as his aged, but rigid, cock rocks inside of her. “You are so tight,” he moans.

    The Professor cups his hands around her belly and feels her baby kick. “Your child knows you aren’t being faithful to its father.”

    Marissa feels the baby kick too, and tingling excitement ripples across her abdomen. She looks up at the professor and sees his face contort in pleasure, his bifocals sitting askew.

    The professor reaches down and starts stroking Marissa’s clit. Her legs twitch involuntarily, and her body shudders. Marissa grabs the edge of the desk and pulls herself towards her superior so that he can drive more deeply into her. The Professor grabs around Marissa’s legs with his free hands and bucks harder into his student.

    All of a sudden Marissa, feels her orgasm coming. “I’m almost there!” She rolls her head back, “Don’t stop!!” The professor obliges, continuing to pump into her and rubbing furiously on her clit.

    Marissa and Professor John reach climax at the same moment. She twists and contorts as the pain of a contraction mixed with the releasing pleasure of an orgasm emanates across her body. John clutches her legs to his chest as he shoots deep within her expectant body. He lets out a grunt of pleasure.

    There is a knock at the door.

    Abruptly both teacher and student are both brought back to the present. Before they have a chance to respond, the door opens and they hear, “Is everything okay Professor?” Then a head pokes through the door.

    It is Matthew.

    His eyes go round as he takes in the scene in front of him.

    Marissa stumbles up as best as she can with her baby bump. “Matthew, this is not what it looks like!”

    Matthew’s face gets dark. “I saw he was inside of you. I know what happened here; there’s no need to say anymore.”

    “No, Matthew!” Marissa insists, but Matthew has snapped the door shut. Tears start to stream down her face.

    “Like I said, he’s left you available for anyone to take. And, there’s no need to lie; we both know you enjoyed it,” the Professor tells her, zipping up his pants. He casually picks up her polaroids on his way out of the office and tosses them into the fire. “Also, the cryptozoology of the gargoyles – that needs to remain a secret.”


    If you liked Christina Harding’s free story, then you may enjoy the rest of her UNDERNEATH THE GARGOYLE series as well. A PROLOGUE is also available for FREE download from Smashwords.

    Christina Harding is a pseudonym. She is a guest blogger for Romance at Random of Random House and the author of Underneath the Gargoyle, a paranormal erotic series. She also blogs at www.christinahardingerotica.blogspot.com and tweets @tinaerotica. Christina is happily married and enjoys reading sexy stories with her husband.


    Purchase Underneath The Gargoyle: A Prologue at


    Image courtesy of Christina Harding
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  • Sexy Reads – Predator’s Fire, Gemini Island Shifters 5

    Sexy Reads – Predator’s Fire, Gemini Island Shifters 5

    Tagline:

    In her world, he shouldn’t exist. In his world, she’s about to become an endangered species.

    Blurb:

    When Nina Suzuki discovers the body of her best friend Janine, her world turns upside down. Things go from bad to worse when Janine’s corpse seems to transform into that of a large, brown wolf. For the first time, Nina is faced to confront all the clues indicating her BFF was not what she seemed. A letter from the dead woman opens Nina’s eyes to a strange, new world. The same letter warns of a sinister group called the Alpha Brethren, and urges her to find Killian Moon of the Ursa Fishing Lodge and Resort on Gemini Island.

    Killian Moon is a jaguar shifter and teen mentor at the Ursa Lodge in Northern Ontario. He may be a comfort and inspiration to confused teen shifters, but he also has a fiery past. His past comes back to haunt him when human Nina arrives at the resort, demanding to speak with him. Demanding answers. Can he trust her with knowledge that will not only change her life, but possibly endanger those around him?

    As Killian begrudgingly tutors Nina on all things shifter, their mutual curiosity flares into passionate need. Once they touch, once they succumb to desire, there is no going back. Killian realizes Nina is his mate and they both begin to comprehend the terror threatening those on their shifter-friendly island. He is forced to confront the tragedy in his family and determines to protect Nina at all costs.

    But can they protect everyone they love from a cult of dangerous shifters, intent on horror and destruction?

    Excerpt:

    “How much longer do I have to wait? I want to see Killian Moon. Now.”

    The feminine voice, strangely soft despite its insistence, echoed deep in his being, awakening his jaguar. The great cat roared to life, turned toward the office and inhaled deeply. Its eyes flashed in interest.

    In…recognition?

    Killian breathed in at the same time, catching the scent of cherry blossoms through the door. The sweet perfume, mixed with human outrage, proved a heady distraction, making him forget why he was there. Shaking his head, he tried to dismiss the odd sensation as Ryland opened the door.

    The door swung open and the first person he glimpsed was one of the clerks from reception, trying his hardest to placate the unexpected guest. “I’m sure Mr. Snow and Mr. Moon will be right back.”

    And then his gaze landed on the petite human. Tapered Asian eyes, so dark and mysterious, but rimmed with circles of exhaustion. Smooth, cinnamon skin hinted at a mixed background. Wearing no makeup, she appeared younger than she must be, but her presence and keen eyes pegged her at around thirty years old. She had a riot of curly, black hair and feminine curves that ought to come with a warning. He could see it now. Beware: this woman’s body will cause insanity in men. Even as she gesticulated at the clerk, her boobs jiggled in such a way his throat went dry.

    He pictured her in a corset, her breasts spilling over delicate lace edging, and almost forgot his name.

    This Nina Suzuki was damn hot and his jaguar seemed to agree. The animal licked its lips, its golden gaze assessing and appreciating every detail, from her rounded hips to her come-hither rack.

    Yes, the creature uttered on a frenzied breath.

    Buy link: Predator’s Fire, Gemini Island Shifters 5, is available at: http://www.lsbooks.com/predator-s-fire-p946.php

    http://www.amazon.com/Predators-Fire-Gemini-Island-Shifters-ebook/dp/B00N7407TA/ref=la_B007X5P4I8_1_4/192-1587072-4901527?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1418010196&sr=1-4

    http://store.kobobooks.com/en-CA/ebook/predator-s-fire

    http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/predators-fire-rosanna-leo/1120325404?ean=9781622101498

    https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-predator039sfire-1618352-149.html


    Image courtesy of Rosanna Leo
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  • Sexy Reads – The New Orleans Hothouse

    Sexy Reads – The New Orleans Hothouse

    Excerpt

    The barkeep placed ten golden coins on the counter and smiled. “I think you need some relaxation, Mr. Rothstein. A young lady is working the peep show tonight, just for you. It’ll be worth your while, sir. She’s a real beauty, and I swear nobody will watch the two of you.”

    I took another sip of my scotch and pushed the glass back to the bartender. “Why not, I got time to kill.” I scooped up the coins and rose from the stool. He pointed to the curtain. “All the way in the back, behind them beads, Mr. Rothstein. The two of you will be alone.”

    I strolled over to the curtain, parted it, and walked into a labyrinth of dark corners and empty corners. The freaks had deserted the place, and except for a dribble of what looked like cum on the floor, no one would know about the strange happenings. Silence shrouded the place. No moaning or groaning, grunts or screams. No poor sap going through the motions of having sex with his drunken girlfriend on stained mattress. Otis had painted over the squalor and mopped the floors, leaving them pristine and devoid of semen except for that one spot. I looked down at my wristwatch with a sigh. It would be another fifteen minutes before I met with him.

    I stumbled through the dim light. Someone had lit votives to light my way, a polite gesture wasted on me. When I finally reached the darkest part of the club, past the last room, I saw a glass-fronted booth illuminated by a single light bulb. A young woman perched inside. My mysterious date. I couldn’t make her out very well since a mane of glossy black hair obscured her face. When I moved closer, my heart lurched and my head began pounding like a base drum. Yvette sat alone behind the glass.

    I hadn’t been wrong about her beauty. Even in the booth’s harsh light, she looked as stunning as she had in her skimpy outfit at the Mason-Dixon Line. Now I could really see her, and she more than passed muster, a voluptuous girl of about nineteen with flawless skin. Yvette sat on a red pillow like a beautiful spider in a glass nest, ready to ensnare some poor sap into her web. Instead of wearing a cheap cocktail dress like the women in the bar, she’d covered her curves with a crimson silk kimono tied at the waist.

    What she was doing in a dump like the Lucky 13 mystified me, but my stiffening cock told me the reason didn’t matter. I found myself standing in front of her.

    She looked up and we stared at each other for at least a half a minute. Her eyes suddenly flashed, and I knew she hadn’t forgotten the matter of me putting my hand down her dress. A few more bucks should handle it.

    “Hey, beautiful, I’m stuck in this shithole with time to kill. The bartender said folks in New Orleans do their best for guests and you’d show me something good. What you going to do for me?”

    Yvette didn’t say a word, just stared back at me for a long moment. She finally spoke in deep and smoky tones, possibly from one too many cigarettes, but maybe not. Her teeth were pearly white, her hands free from nicotine stains.

    “I could do a lot for a pretty boy like you. I bet your dick is as beautiful as the rest of you. Unzip, daddy and show me what you got.”

    What the hell? Who did she think she was? I thought hookers were supposed to be polite. When her beautiful mouth widened into an insolent grin, I felt my anger bubble over.

    “Pull out my cock? You want me to beat my meat? Screw you. On the worst day of my life, I could do better than you.”

    Yvette sat back in her cushion. “Oh, is that so?”

    “Yeah.”

    “Well, you aren’t very polite, especially when a girl is just trying to be friendly. But I’ll forgive you. You look upset. Poor baby, let me make you feel better. C’mon. Don’t be a chicken. Show me your dick.”

    “Fuck you, bitch.”

    Yvette opened her robe just as I turned away. “Hey, pretty man. Look at this.” She pulled back the crimson silk, slowly parted her legs, and exposed the treasure her creamy thighs concealed: a beautiful rose-colored pussy nesting in black hair. I usually went for chilly beauties, but Yvette’s earthy brazenness excited me. My rod stiffened and pointed at her. My arousal would have been obvious to a blind man.

    Her voice teased me. “Daddy, are you still mad at me.”

    I couldn’t pull myself away. “No.”

    Yvette gave me an earthy cackle. “You were mad. Those eyes of yours flashed amber like you were going to explode.” She gave a toss of her head and smirked. “I’m ready to play and from what’s poking out of your trousers, so are you. Come on, baby. Don’t be afraid. Show mama what you’ve got.”

    She licked her full lips when I unbuckled my belt, but before I could unzip my fly, a crimson curtain descended, and she disappeared from view. I yelped in frustration, dug in my pocket for one of the coins, and dropped it into the slot. The drape ascended. Yvette sat back on her pillow, grinning.

    “Well, hey, daddy, you still here? Guess you didn’t find something better, did you?”

    Yvette put a finger to her mouth, parted her full lips and gave it a slow, sensuous lick. She moved her hand southward, toward another pair of lips. I couldn’t contain myself and unfastened my trousers. They fell around my hips along with my shorts. I grabbed my cock and stroked the shaft. Yvette stared at it for a long moment.

    “Well, daddy, you got a pretty one, all big and pink. I like it, sugar.”

    Big dicks ran in my family. “Yeah, that’s what they say about us Rothsteins. Big dicks, big wallets.”

    “And I bet you love showing both off to all the young ladies. Don’t you, handsome?”

    Her grin widened as she slid her moistened finger in a circle around her pussy lips and undulated her hips, the movements slow and deliberate, her voice growling a low moan.

    “Daddy, play with that bad boy for me, but do it slow. I like it slow Real slow.”

    I groaned and moved my hips in rhythm with hers as if I was inside her.

    Purchase The New Orleans Hothouse here at http://www.loose-id.com/the-new-orleans-hot-house.html


    Image courtesy of Loose Id
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  • An Interview with Lee Rene by Kristin Aragon

    An Interview with Lee Rene by Kristin Aragon

    I recently connected with writer Lee Rene.  Lee Rene is the nom de plume of a Los Angeles-based author of erotic romances and New Adult novels.  Although Lee has attempted writing romances in the past, she finally found her voice in the world of erotic literature.  Lee has authored the new erotic romance – The New Orleans Hothouse, and was quite enthused to talk about her maiden voyage into erotic romance, a journey that took years.

    Kristin: Hi Lee, it’s great of you to find a moment to chat about your upcoming novel, The New Orleans Hothouse. Tell us a bit about yourself?

    Lee: I’ve been writing since I was a kid. I had a poem published in an anthology at fourteen, but though I had the knack, I didn’t have the discipline or the will it takes to become an author. Not only must a writer learn the rules of his or her craft, but writers also have to be selfish with their time. I just couldn’t do it. The muse tapped me on my shoulder in New Orleans, and I began writing in earnest, first working for a lifestyle magazine, then writing movie reviews. Fiction remained difficult and although I always wanted to write romances, they eluded me until I entered the world of erotic romance, then everything came together.

    Kristin: Romance versus erotic romance? Would you mind explaining a little about the differences?

    Lee: Erotic romance versus standard romances allows a writer to explore all elements of a romance including the carnal. I could let me hair down without censoring myself, use stories my friends had told me about their relationships and their erotic lives. Since my protagonist, Danny Rothstein, was a young guy, it allowed me to examine how men view sex as opposed to women.

    Kristin: As a person who has gotten to know you over time, I’ve learned you love to stage your novels in the 1950s. Is there a particular reasoning behind the period?

    Lee: The fifties was a turbulent time regarding sex. Feminism had emerged, women were working outside of the home, and sexual attitudes were changing. Still, the concept of sexual harassment was an alien one and girls who loved sex were still considered whores. I love New Orleans and had read a great deal about New Orleans in the 1950s when the New Orleans went through a growth spurt, and exotic dancers were the queens of the city. I threw in a bit of Mad Men and The New Orleans Hothouse was born. I have another manuscript set in the 50s New Orleans that involves gangsters and police corruption; afterward, I want to switch focus to contemporary romance.

    Kristin: You made your protagonist a young man and rather sexist from contemporary views. Tell me a little about that?

    Lee: I loved writing in the male voice. I found it freeing. Not only did it allow for variety, but I could also make the language a bit cruder than it would be from a young woman of the same period. I found it liberating to get into a man’s head, be as raunchy as I liked yet show the humanity underneath. Danny is at heart a terrific guy, but he’s been spoiled by women and never heard the word “no.”  He meets a girl who uses him for her own pleasure in the same way the way men often use women and it shocks him. Danny isn’t ready for a truly liberated woman, it is the 1950s after all, and immediately labels her a slut. Later he realizes what a fabulous girl she is and his arc as a human begins.

    Writing as a male allowed me to explore the double standard that was so prevalent during that period. I didn’t make Danny wrong for some of his views, i.e., nice girls don’t do “that”, just misguided. It was also important for me not to “slut shame” Yvette, my female character, or any of the other female characters either. I wanted them to embrace their sexuality and not be totally dependent on a man for their sexual pleasure. It’s a theme I hope to explore more fully in the future.

    Kristin: How would you compare this with other popular erotic romances?

    Lee: I really got into “pillow talk” and tried to make it as explicit as possible. Perhaps it’s been my own experience that dirty talk turns people on when they are making love. I remember a friend saying she had to have a man who “talked that talk.” Look at the success of that song, Talk Dirty to Me. People, male and female, love it.

    Kristin: I, personally, cannot think of a better place for an erotic romp, but why did you choose New Orleans?

    Lee: New Orleans is so sexy— the music, the mystery, the history. I remember staying in the Quarter one year and not being able to sleep from all the sexual activity around me. It truly is Erotic City, a dark, dangerous, and romantic place.

    Thank you, Lee, for answering some of our questions. You have given us some insight into your experience writing your novel, which is much appreciated. Good luck with sales, and I hope to hear more from you soon. The New Orleans Hothouse goes on sale December 30, 2014. ONLINE ONLY! Get your copy HERE.

    Stay tuned for an exclusive excerpt from The New Orleans Hothouse tomorrow!


    Image courtesy of Loose Id
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  • Erotic novel: Keeping Sarah is out today

    Erotic novel: Keeping Sarah is out today

    Julie Shelton’s Keeping Sarah is out today.
    SimplySxy takes this opportunity to interview Julie and find out more about Keeping Sarah, the inspiration behind her writing and future novels in the making.

    Can you tell us a little about your new book Keeping Sarah that just came out on August 7th?

    Keeping Sarah is my third contemporary BDSM ménage romance for Siren Publishers. It is the third and final installment in the series which began with Loving Sarah, published in 2012, and its sequel, Owning Sarah, published last September. By the time I finished writing Loving Sarah, it was clear to me that I had enough material for more than one book, hence the sequel, Owning Sarah. Both are MFM ménages. But even though Owning Sarah ended with Sarah, Jesse and Adam’s wedding and their happy ending, I couldn’t stop thinking about the three characters. I couldn’t help but feel that Jesse and Adam needed to explore the feelings they were developing for each other as well as for their beloved wife, Sarah. So, Keeping Sarah was born. But this is Jesse Colter and Adam Sinclair and nothing comes easy for them. So, in addition to telling Jesse and Adam’s evolving love story, Keeping Sarah is also a harrowing thrill ride of deadly car chases, Albanian blood feuds, a sex slave auction, murder, betrayal, and gut-wrenching intrigue.

    Please tell us how the idea came to you for Jesse Colter, your main hero. Be sure to include all the fun details.

    It started with his name. Jesse Colter. It was the perfect name for a Dominant, alpha hero. I spent months thinking about him and coming up with a compelling back-story for him.

    Abandoned by his Native American mother, neglected and abused by his alcoholic bully of a father, Jesse is embittered, angry and going nowhere fast. At age nineteen, he takes a summer job as part-time gardener at the Marshall estate and meets thirteen-year-old Sarah Marshall. To a hardened biker and sexual Dominant, Sarah Marshall is like some fey, magical creature from another world, and he is enchanted by her. For the first time in his life, Jesse has someone who thinks he’s wonderful. Someone who listens to him and values his opinion. Someone who makes him laugh and who cares for him. Sarah Marshall quickly becomes someone precious to him. Someone to treasure and protect. Someone to love. At first he loves her as an adult loves a child.

    But as Sarah grows into a beautiful, voluptuous young woman who makes no effort to hide her growing love for him, Jesse is terrified that his carnal feelings for her and his Dominant nature will end up destroying the one thing he treasures most—Sarah Marshall. So he leaves their small town of Marshall’s Creek and joins the Navy, becoming a SEAL. Eight years of grueling training and dangerous missions give him a sense of identity and self-worth. He realizes that he is a man of honor and integrity and is finally able to admit to himself that he needs Sarah in order to make him complete. Determined to do whatever it takes to win her trust and her love, he returns to Marshall’s Creek. That’s where their love story begins in Loving Sarah. It continues in Owning Sarah, and finishes with a bang in Keeping Sarah.

    What influenced you to send your first book to a publisher? How long did it take?

    I spent four years writing, editing, polishing, re-writing Loving Sarah. It was a never-ending cycle. Then I lost it. Completely wiped it out of my computer. I was devastated. The thought of having to recreate an entire 400-page novel from scratch was so daunting, I fell into a deep depression. Then around four months after I lost it, I had to print something and that’s when I discovered that the entire novel, minus the last 15 pages, was still in the print queue. I was elated! And I knew that I had to send it off to a publisher immediately, before my ignorance of computers caused something else to happen to it. Siren was the first publisher I submitted it to, mainly because they published a lot of my favorite authors. Around three weeks after I sent it to them, they emailed me and asked me to make a few changes. I figured this was a pretty good sign, thinking if they weren’t interested in it at all, they wouldn’t have bothered to ask for the changes. They offered to publish it less than two weeks after I submitted the revised manuscript.

    Could you tell us a couple of favorite authors who inspired you to write?

    Sure. Lora Leigh; Maya Banks; CheriseSinclairSophieOakLisaMarieRiceLaurenDaneJoeyWHillLeahBrookeEdenBradleyKristenAshleyLexiBlakeShaylaBlackFionaArcherLyndaAicher—and that’s just her first name! My earliest influences, years and years ago, back in the dark ages, were Mary Stewart’s romantic suspense novels and Phyllis Whitney’s gothic novels.

    Is music a factor for you while you are writing? Do certain songs put you in the right frame of mind to write certain stories?

    When I put music on, it’s to listen to it, so I usually find it distracting when I’m writing because I want to sing or hum along with it. It’s hard to write when you’re bopping around in your chair, singing at the top of your lungs, lol

    If you could collaborate with one author who would it be?

    Good grief, there’s no way I could pick just one! Go to the list above, close your eyes and point. I’ll go with her.

    What is the strangest source of writing inspiration you’ve ever had?

    Years ago I was watching the movie, Becket (with Richard Burton and Peter o’Toole). In one scene there was a minor female character dressed in a blue gown. I was finishing my BA in French at the time and doing extensive research on life in a thirteenth-century French castle.

    Well, the minute I saw that gown, an entire romance novel sprang into my mind. I couldn’t write it down fast enough. And since I was taking all my research notes on 3 x 5 index cards, that’s what I wrote the novel on. I wound up with two shoeboxes full of index cards, one with all my research notes, the second with my novel. Last year I transcribed the entire book onto my computer and that became Dark Warrior, my third book for Siren, published in January of this year.

    What are you working on now?

    Oh, I am so glad you asked that! I am nearly half-way through with Passion’s Dream, the first book in my new Passion Lake series. It’s a series of books about a bunch of Jesse and Adam’s former SEAL buddies, all characters in the three Sarah books, who buy a bankrupt town around thirty miles down the road from Marshall’s Creek and turn it into a profitable tourist attraction. Passion’s Dream is about Clay “Raven” Nighthorse, who is hired to protect Leah Stanhope, a woman with whom he had a brief encounter three years ago on a California beach. When their location is compromised, he brings her to his ranch in Passion Lake, where he has plenty of friends who are willing to help keep her safe while he devotes himself to proving that he wants and needs her in his life. Permanently.

    Look for Passion’s Dream, Passion’s Fury, and Passion’s Hope, the first three exciting books in the Passion Lake series, at the beginning of 2015.

    Below is a brief excerpt from Passion’s Dream.

    Unperturbed by her anger, he reached out and placed his fingertips against her cheek.

    She jerked her head away, but otherwise couldn’t move. It was as if she’d been turned to stone. “Don’t touch me!” She’d meant it to be an icy command, but instead it came out a choked, frightened whisper.

    Ignoring her, he sent his fingers on a journey along the line of her jaw, down the slender column of her neck. He paused at the base of her neck, holding the tip of his index finger over the pulse hammering there, betraying her agitation. The journey continued down over her collar bones, across the creamy, sloping mound of her breast to the edge of her bikini top. When she made no move to stop him, he hooked his forefinger into the stretchy material. When she still didn’t move, he allowed his fingernail to scrape against her tender flesh as he traced the outline of the fabric down to its lowest point—the point where it stretched across the shadowed valley between her breasts.

    “Don’t—”It was a choked whisper. She closed her eyes, but she made no attempt to remove his hand. She was trembling, every clamoring nerve aware of his nearness, the potent sexuality of his hard, male body so close to hers. ‘I-I’m engaged to be married.”

    “Ah, yes.” His lips twisted. “The ever-devoted fiance. Tell me, Leah,” he tugged her toward him, the weight of his hand pulling the stretchy, jersey top downward and outward, threatening to release the rounded fullness of her breasts. “Tell me about him. What’s it like making love to an old man?”

    She should have pushed him away. She should have stepped back—anything to put distance between them. Instead, she stared up at him helplessly, trapped as much by the confusion leaping within her as she was by the sensual spell he seemed to be weaving around her like a web.

    Resting his left elbow on the underwater shelf, he lifted his other hand to shape the back of her head, his long fingers threading through the damp silk of her hair. “Does his touch arouse you?” Slowly, sensuously, he pulled her toward him, closing the distance between them, until his firm, mobile mouth was less than an inch from her own, his breath warm against her lips. “Set you on fire?” The hard contours of his body brushed tantalizingly against the softly rounded curves of her own as the cool water undulated against them. “Does he kiss you like this?” Clay persisted, dropping a warm, feather-light kiss near one corner of her trembling mouth, “like a father? Or perhaps like an uncle or older brother, like this,” he pressed his lips first to her cheek, then, tilting her head down, her forehead. “Or does he kiss you like a lover? Like this”—and his mouth closed over hers in a dark, golden storm, his lips expertly parting hers to admit the probing sweetness of his tongue.

    Leah stiffened and tried to pull away, but it was too late. The flame ignited by his touch was all-consuming. Without volition, her arms went around his neck, her legs circled his waist, ankles locking behind him. The sheer size of the erection pressing against her sex made her gasp. Her belly plummeted, sending moisture gushing out of her pussy onto the thin strip of fabric that was her bikini bottom. She’d never been so aroused in her life. Her traitorous body arched toward his, her hips grinding her sex against his cock. She moaned into his mouth as his arms went tightly around her back, crushing her soft breasts to his hard chest. Locked together, they sank beneath the surface of the water. Instead of panicking and struggling to break free, Leah wound her arms tightly around his neck and held on, trusting in his care of her.

    Without breaking the kiss, Clay pushed off the deep end of the pool with a powerful thrust of his muscular legs, gliding swiftly through the water to the center of the pool, where he could stand up. They broke the surface still locked together, their mouths tearing apart only long enough to drag air into their oxygen-starved lungs before crushing back together, tongues dueling passionately.

    Leah loosened her hold on his neck, running her hands wonderingly over his shoulders and back, savoring the power of the muscles flexing beneath his satin-smooth skin, delighting in the heat of his body beneath the cool slickness of the pool water. In spite of the pervading smell of chlorine, she could still smell his clean, masculine scent. Losing all reason, she broke off the kiss to bury her face in the side of his neck, where it curved into his shoulder, inhaling that scent deep into her lungs. Daringly, she put out her tongue and took a tiny lick of his warm, moist skin. God, he tasted so good! He felt so good! She couldn’t stifle the groan that ripped from her throat. Her hands curved around to the back of his head, her fingers gripping the thick, wet mass of his hair, holding his head still. She drew a shuddering breath, trying desperately to get herself under control. This is a mistake! This is a colossal mistake!


    Keeping Sarah is out and can be purchased on www.bookstrand.com/keeping-sarah


    Image courtesy of Julie Shelton
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  • J.A. Wiśniewska, Erotica Author

    J.A. Wiśniewska, Erotica Author

    J.A. Wiśniewska kick started her foray into erotica eighteen months ago after discovering the site Booksiesilk and decided to try her hand at erotica. Armed with a background in journalism and publishing, she quickly saw success with her three published short stories on Booksiesilk which spurred her on to work on her debut novel, Exploration.

    Recently released, Exploration is a short story compilation exploring the different aspects of sex and human sexuality. Ranging from plain vanilla to more risqué tales, Exploration leads the reader to encounter various characters ever ready to experiment with their sexuality. From a woman who finds her new masseur impossible to resist to a thief who, as punished for his crime, becomes the plaything of the sheriff’s wife, Exploration has been quick to receive a 5 star review on Amazon.

    A European writer who credits Golden Angel and Megalanthropus as her favorite erotica writers, and Joanne Harris, Mark Haddon, Kate Mosse and JK Rowling as her favorite authors, she presently resides in Krakow Poland.

    SimplySxy had the opportunity to sit down with J.A. to talk about the release of her new novel and her thoughts on sexuality and erotica.

    SimplySxy: J.A., tell us more about Exploration and what was the driving force behind the ten short stories.

    J.A. Wiśniewska: Earlier this year I had a couple of ideas for stories and, seeing how easy it was to publish on Booksiesilk, I wrote them and put them up on the site. After quite a few encouraging comments, and then finding out from a friend about how now self-publishing is virtually free and very easy, I decided to give myself the challenge of writing a book. As I am still fairly new to erotica, I found that I was exploring with different aspects of sex and sexuality in my writing, seeing what I enjoyed writing about. And so Exploration was born. The book is a collection of ten short stories, all looking at different aspects of sex, including romance-style stories, masturbation, sex in public and light BDSM.

    SimplySxy: How does the perspective of a fan differ from that of an author in your opinion?

    J.A. Wiśniewska: I suppose authors can be more critical of others’ work. Thankfully I haven’t come across any negative comments when using Booksiesilk, and nor would I write any: just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean someone else won’t. Speaking from a personal perspective, I’m especially critical of a story when there is appalling spelling, grammar and punctuation: I’m a real stickler for it and it really dampens my enjoyment when someone just hasn’t bothered to proofread their stuff or, as it is in some cases, hasn’t bothered trying to write correctly in the first place. Perhaps a fan of the genre who just wants to read a sexy story to get in the mood to have sex with their partner wouldn’t mind something like this, but for me it’s a real sticking point.

    SimplySxy: In your opinion, how has the onset of the digital media and easy access to pornography impacted erotica in the written form?

    J.A. Wiśniewska: There has been both a positive impact and a negative impact, in my opinion. Living in a digital world as we do today means more people can access pornography and erotica: I, for example, would never have started reading erotica if it hadn’t been for the internet. And from conversations I’ve had, with men especially, I think that people are starting to wake up to the fact that erotica in the written form has far more scope for the imagination than visual pornography. I’m not saying pornography doesn’t have its place – it does – but in the written form we can explore things on a deeper level, a more emotional level, than we can with pornography. On the other hand, the large number of free erotica sites – where people can publish their work with great ease – has meant that there is now a plethora of work online, not all of it good. In fact, most of the stuff I read online is pretty bad. A lot of stories have no real storyline, just really badly-described sex. Of course it’s all subjective, and for a lot of people they write for fun and don’t care if other people like it, which is fine. But from my point of view it does make finding stuff I would like reading very difficult as I have to wade through stories I don’t like.  

    SimplySxy: We’re keen to see more works from you in times to come. Are you planning for a next novel? 

    J.A. Wiśniewska: I do plan to do a follow-up book for Exploration with ten more stories; I’ve already started a couple. But the main project I am working on at the moment is a retelling of the story of Janosik, who is basically the Polish version of Robin Hood. In legend, he committed an act of bravery in front of three witches. As a reward they bestowed upon him three powers which aided him in his activities to rob the rich to give to the poor. As an erotica writer I’m having a lot of fun playing around with that. 

    SimplySxy: Thank you J.A. for your time and for sharing your opinions so openly with us.

    J.A. Wiśniewska is available for interviews. For booking interviews please contact jawisniewska83@gmail.com.

    Image courtesy of J.A. Wiśniewska
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  • New BDSM Erotica: Keeping Sarah

    New BDSM Erotica: Keeping Sarah

    Honeymooning in England, Jesse Colter, Adam Sinclair and their beloved wife, Sarah, are heading for their friend Thorne Cahill’s BDSM club for dinner when another car deliberately tries to run them off the road. Thanks to their own driver’s skills, the other car is destroyed, the two unknown occupants killed.

    Through Thorne, they discover that they’re the targets of a “blood feud”, instigated by Konstandin Sokolov, son of Viktor Sokolov, the Albanian mobster who had unwisely kidnapped Sarah a few months back, and paid for it with his life. They also discover that Thorne’s guests, ruthless human traffickers, have gathered at the club for a slave auction being held the following night. Konstandin Sokolov happens to be one of the buyers.

    Fraught with treachery, betrayal, and deadly danger, Keeping Sarah keeps the reader on a knife’s edge of tension, while simultaneously exploring the deepening emotional and physical commitment between Jesse and Adam. They already trust each other with their lives. Now they must learn how to trust each other with their love.

    Excerpt:

    Then Jesse turned to Sarah. Bending down, he put his hands beneath her arms and lifted her up off the floor. Turning her in his arms, he unhooked the garters, then unlaced the corset, letting it fall to the silk carpet. As soon as the beautiful, but restrictive garment fell away from her, Sarah took the first deep breath she’d had in hours. “Step out of your shoes, baby,” he crooned, rolling down her stockings and removing them one foot at a time. “Now bend over and grab your ankles. I owe you a spanking.”

    With a whimper, she assumed the undignified position, her second of the night, wrapping her fingers around her ankles while he got on his knees behind her to remove the vibrators from her pussy and ass. Dropping the toys on top of the crumpled corset, he palmed her ass cheeks, his flexing fingers making deep indentations in her sweet flesh. “Spread your legs, baby, or you’re gonna fall over.” A smile curved his lips upward as she slid her feet outward. God, I love this ass! He slapped her sharply, the sound and her subsequent cry loud in the quiet room. “Count,” was all he said, transfixed by the erotic sight of his handprint blooming on her skin, first white, then red.

    “Y-yes, Master. O-one.”

    “How many have you earned tonight, slave?”

    “Ten, Master.” Her voice was barely audible, muffled by her position.

    “There will be no warm-up, so I’ll make them quick. Count them all.” In rapid succession, he delivered ten blistering swats to her backside and by the time she counted the last one, her ass was fiery red and she was sobbing in pain.

    Crap, that hurt! And yet, it felt so good. So damn good. The heat from her ass seemed to be having an effect on her clit, as if the two were connected by wires pulsing and crackling with electricity. Her sobs turned into moans as he stroked and kneaded the heat more deeply into her flesh, sending it straight to her pussy until her clit felt like it was on fire.

    Still gripping her ass cheeks, he lowered his head, slanting it sideways to flick the tip of his tongue across her throbbing little nub. She jerked and cried out as pleasure consumed her. Then he straightened, pulling her up after him, and steered her toward the bed. If Adam was in sub-space, then Sarah was right there with him, lost and drifting and needing Jesse’s loving care. It was now his duty and responsibility to love them and keep them safe and give them the pleasure they had both earned and richly deserved.

    “Climb up, baby,” he said, assisting her up onto the bed. “On your hands and knees above Adam, pussy over his face, head over his cock.” As he was talking, he, too, was getting on the bed, crawling across its enormous expanse toward Adam’s feet. “Legs apart,” he ordered and Adam slid his feet across the silky sheets. “Prepare Sarah.”

    At the quiet command, Sarah’s core convulsed again, sending out another gush of fresh cream. God, she was so ready to come! She had been so highly aroused for so long, now that it was finally going to happen, it was all she could focus on. Without warning, Adam reached up and stroked his fingers through her slit, from front to back before thrusting two fingers deep inside her sheath hovering so tantalizingly above his head. He pressed his thumb against her puckered anal opening, pushing insistently, until the muscle relaxed and sucked it in. Sarah stopped breathing. With wicked skill, he thrust in and out of both her anus and vagina, pinching the membrane between his thumb and fingers as he stroked, quickly re-stoking the fires of need in her sex, burning just beneath the surface. A thin, high wail escaped her lips as pleasure devoured her.

    “Christ, Jess,” Adam muttered over the wet, sucking noises his fingers were making as he pumped them in and out of Sarah’s sheath, “you should see what I’m seeing. Our little slave has the most succulent pussy in the world. And it’s dripping all over the place.”

    “Sarah,” Jesse ordered, “Take Adam into your mouth.”


    Julie Shelton’s third and final installment Keeping Sarah will be available from 7th August 2014.  Watch out for SimplySxy’s interview with Julie on the 7th to find out more about Keeping Sarah and her next erotica in the works.


    Image courtesy of Julie Shelton
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  • Interview with Erotica Novelist: Troy Lambert

    Interview with Erotica Novelist: Troy Lambert

    A sexual tryst at the Seven Bells Motel

    One-Night-in-Boise-by-Troy-Lambert-500-200x300Detective Derek Marshek’s sex life with his wife Cheri is amazing and they take it up a notch by including role plays into their sexual trysts at the Seven Bells Motel.  One day, Derek’s world gets turned upside down.  A dead body is found outside their motel and his gun is missing.  But is there more to this crime scene than meets the eye? An erotica with a mixture of romance and suspense, One Night in Boise takes the reader through a roller coaster ride keeping them on the edge of their seats through its twists and turns.

    SimplySxy takes the opportunity to speak to the author, Troy Lambert on his insipiration behind One Night in Boise and the advice he can give to aspiring erotica writers who wish to try their hand in writing.


    [Interview with Troy Lambert]

     SimplySxy: What was the inspiration behind One Night in Boise?

     Troy: The inspiration for One Night in Boise was a challenge: I write thrillers, had written sex    scenes in them, but this took at least the sex to another level. As sex is certainly thrilling and can be suspenseful, it seemed right up my alley. The story idea came to me early one morning, with the simple first line of the book, “It’s a dangerous game we play.”

    SimplySxy: One Night in Boise is book one of the City Nights Series. How does the series link up?

    Troy: The City Nights series is an erotic romance series sponsored by Tirgearr Publishing. The guidelines are simple: the story must be novella length, take place in a 24 hour period in a city of the author’s choosing. The story must be a mix of erotica and romance—not just a “sex” story, but one with strong character development as well.

    I’m also the managing editor of the series, and the next book is One Night in Paris by Lucy Felthouse, followed by One Night in Rome by C. Margery Kempe and One Night in New Orleans by Kristi Ahlers. There will be one novella released a month, until we run out of authors and cities.

    SimplySxy: How do you differentiate between erotica and romance?

    Troy: Romance is more about characters and story. Much of the genre, like other fiction, is character or plot driven. Romance can have several heat levels, from the closed bedroom door, mild level of sex to erotic, hot love scenes.

    Erotica is more about hot sex. Sex not only must be an integral part of the story, but it often is the story.

    In this series the blend of the two is very important. The sex must be hot, but the story also has to be good, thus the erotic romance category. I added a sub-genre of thriller and it seems to work very well for readers.

    SimplySxy: Are there any advice to new authors?

    I get asked this one often, and my stock answer is this: if you can do something else, do it. Being a writer, making a living at it, is hard, and you really don’t get paid all that well for all the hours you put in.

    But if like me, you find you really aren’t good for much else, and “normal” jobs seem to never work out because you simply have to write and you can’t help yourself, then stop worrying about how to “make a living” as a writer.

    Do things with two criteria: Write things you enjoy writing that also pay at least something. Then learn to live on what you can make pursuing your passion. You might be poor for a while or even a long time, but you will be doing what you love and that is worth more than any mansion or fancy car.


    [Excerpt]

    It’s a dangerous game we play.

    We like to play year round, but the snow, the cold has us turning to other games to pass the time in the winter. Tonight, though it is not yet spring, it is warm for early April, and we are both ready.

    The yellow streetlights emit tight yellow pools of light that she avoids carefully. I circle the block, seeing if I can spot her in the shadows. When she spies the old Caprice, she steps to the curb.

    She wears red leather. My favorite. A tight mini skirt, thigh high boots, and a laced corset envelop her curves. Her scarlet lipstick matches a bow wrapped in her brunette hair, completing the look.

    She’s not as young as she used to be, but then neither am I. When I look at her though, I still see the girl I married over 20 years ago. Other guys try to pick her up whenever we play, and once she even had to explain the game to a passing undercover officer, one of my colleagues. It cost me a $150 bottle of scotch to sweep that one under the rug, but it was worth it.

    I pull alongside and roll down the passenger window. “Hey there.”

    “Looking for a date?” She blows little bubbles with the gum she chews, popping them with her teeth. Oh, God those teeth, those lips, that mouth.

    “Yeah baby, how much?”

    Her gaze crawls over me, evaluating, craving. “For you, $20 for a blow, half and half for $40, and all the way for $80.”

    “It’s a deal. Get in.”

    Opening the door, she drops into the passenger seat. The skirt rides up, and her lace panties peek out at me. She tugs the skirt down seductively, but not before I spot the wetness at her crotch. I can hardly sit still and wonder how my erection is not interfering with the steering wheel. Jesus, she turns me on.

    She puts her gloved hands on my arm, and the hairs there stand to attention. “You have someplace we can go?”

    “Sure do,” I say. She shuts the door, and I drive to the Seven Bells Motel at the end of the block.


    Troy Lambert
    Author/Editor
    www.troylambertwrites.com
    Follow him on Facebook or Twitter


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  • When Erotica Meets The Internet: How Technology Has Changed Pornography

    When Erotica Meets The Internet: How Technology Has Changed Pornography

    The term “pornography” is often a vague way to describe representation of sexual behavior in books, media, art, and movies that evokes sexual stimulation. It has gained the reputation as being naughty, illicit, and has even been condemned by many cultural and religious groups. Another term we often hear is “erotica”, the more acceptable and tolerated version of pornography. The difference between the two is subjective and varies based on where you are and whom you ask. The history of pornography traces back long before we had the Internet and smartphones. It has been around since humans began to communicate through art, literature, and cultural symbols of sexual imagery and erotica. Pornography has been a worldwide phenomenon since the ancient Greek and Romans, Hindus, Japanese, Egyptians and even during the Victorian era in Great Britain.

    The origin of pornography goes as far back as ancient cave drawings depicting sexual and erotic imagery. Different cultures around the world have historical depictions of erotica that can be seen as sacred, religious and artistic and to others, perverse and inappropriate. As technology has advanced, so has the access and distribution of pornography. The invention of the printing press led to a surge of pornographic material to the masses including magazines, newspapers, and picture books.  The Internet launched in 1991 when there were fewer than 90 published adult pornographic magazines. By the year 1997, there were over 900 pornography websites on the web. Current statistics show that there are now 2.5 million pornography websites available on the Internet. People have always been fascinated with sexuality. Sex is everywhere and only a click away using the latest technology, allowing viewers to browse in private, anonymously and without shame.

    The argument in today’s culture is how pornography impacts our sexuality and that technology has changed the landscape of pornographic material. As technology advances, we have more access to pornography and research has yet to conclude if it has a negative impact.  Some believe that pornographic material can actually help alleviate sexual repression and create a sense of sexual enlightenment. Others believe that the widespread access of pornographic material is corruptive, dangerous and leads to sexual addiction, infidelity, and sex crimes. Pornography has been controversial due to religion and politics, which attempt to regulate the impact of sexual material on society by influencing how we think about pornography in regards to our sexual values and beliefs.  The impact of technology is rapidly changing our sex lives. It has changed how we communicate and our sexual behavior. Humans are fascinated by sexual stimuli and pornography has been an outlet for exploration and entertainment. But how has the Internet changed pornography? Technology has been a powerful source of promotion for sexual material and since the birth of the Internet, it has created a fast-growing billion dollar industry that dominates the world wide web.

    The appeal of the Internet is the anonymity, affordability, and accessibility of the content. Other than website history, there is no traceable activity which makes browsing and exploring different aspects of sexuality private.  Pornography is believed to be a dominantly male interest; but growing numbers of women are using the Internet to explore sexual desires. It has become a routine part of culture in both Eastern and Western parts of the world. The average person does not have to interact with others to obtain erotica. Women who were too embarrassed to browse the video section at a local adult store can now search pornography from the comfort of their own home. Popular sites like PornHub provide enough erotic material to satisfy a variety of sexual curiosities. The general rule is, that if you can imagine it, there is most likely pornographic material of the same accessible on the Internet. The vast amount of pornographic material that is available on the Internet brings up the question of how our erotic interests and desires are shaped. Neuroscience, sex research, and Internet data have all looked at the impact of pornography on human desire. We need to understand the origin of sexual interests to see the correlation. There has to be an impulse that activates the search for a fantasy, image, or search term. Our programming for desire is influenced by social stimuli. This programming varies for men and women. It is a known fact that men are more visually stimulated while women are looking for stimulation through emotions. The Internet provides that stimuli whether it be images for men or stories for women. As technology develops further, it caters to the diversity and science of human sexual desire.  Our brains are programmed to sample our cultural environment. This can include messages by parents, teachers, friends, and the media. Our desires are then set according to these social inputs. Since our cultural environment is changing towards online interaction and technology, so are desire programming, sexual interests, and curiosities.

    Pornography fascinates the average person and influences our sexual response and programming for desire. Whether or not there is scientific basis or facts, it will continue to be a topic of social and political protest. For some individuals, it can be a way to engage sexual exploration and an opportunity to become sexually awakened by learning to express oneself as a sexual being and to develop a sense of understanding around sexual values and needs. It can help an individual or couples learn about personal desire and turn-ons by being exposed to different forms of sexual stimuli. Many sex therapists will prescribe pornography or erotica to help clients engage in sexual interests and grow towards sexual awareness. Different types of pornographic material can evoke an emotional response whether be it sexual arousal or disgust. These emotions can help the therapist understand a client’s sexual programming and better provide tools and resources for sexual concerns. The political agenda disagrees with the positive aspects of pornography as a teaching tool and believes that it commercializes sex and causes more corruption, sex crimes, and negative behavior rather than good. There is no conclusion that a simple exposure to online pornography will negatively sexualize our society any more than other forms of media.  Like any form of media, moderation is important and understanding the impact can help reduce impulsivity, compulsivity and out of control sexual behavior. As a society, we must acknowledge that pornography is here to stay and understand how we can create awareness around how technology has changed pornography and how the Internet is changing our sexual relationships.

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