Party Favor

All writers know what it’s like to craft perfect sentences in their minds, and the frustration of translating creation to reality. It’s a new challenge with erotica, writing sentences that titillate and thrill the reader, and not just because you used the word titillate but because something in your fantasies excites them the same way it excites you.

It seems so easy when imagining sexy scenarios, when reading the works of others. Writing Party Favor was a challenge for me. I started at least four times, I just couldn’t get it right and it frustrated me to end. Maybe that’s why I’m proud of it now. It’s funny and sexy and dirty, and I pushed myself writing it and am happy to share my latest story with you.

It’s been out for one day, and I’m so close to breaking into the top 1,000 for erotica. (I’m 1009!) Let me know what you think.

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Fantasy or Memory

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The streaks of colored light didn’t provide much illumination in the dark, crowded club. Just the glimpses of your face as shadows played over it told me I hadn’t met you before. Even if I didn’t recognize you, I would remember the way you made me feel.

I’d never experienced this before, a desire to meet you that was more important than anything else, than the breath you stole from my body. A heat coiled in my stomach just from an innocent touch of your hand grazing mine. Your shirt rucked up revealing, dark smooth skin, and I pressed closer to touch the firm planes of your midsection. The caress soothed my need for one second before I became addicted, needing to feel and smell and taste you or I’d go mad.

I didn’t know you, but I already knew the way your tongue in my mouth would make me dizzy with desire, the way my legs felt around your hips as you hoisted my up. My visceral reaction doesn’t scare you, your hands feel just as desperate while they sweep over my back. I try to place your accent when you whisper in my ear, “I’ve been waiting all my life to meet you.” It’s not just a line.

Are the images of our limbs intertwined fantasy or memory? My womanhood clenches, aches for your cock like it misses the feelings it hasn’t actually experienced yet. Am I seeing a past I’ve forgotten or the future? I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m ready to get lost in you again or for the first time.

via Daily Prompt: Visceral

Her Hidden Fantasy

While I experiment with the features available with KDP Select, Her Hidden Fantasy is only 99 cents right now as part of a Kindle Countdown Deal.

“I don’t want you to give it to me until it hurts because I want it to hurt from the beginning.”

Rachel wrote those words but could never send them. The virginal college student doesn’t say curse words out loud and blushes whenever anyone mentions sex. However, her sweet, innocent persona hides a devious, kinky imagination. She doesn’t want sweet nothings and soft caresses or to make love. She wants biting and bruising and mind-melting passion. But her boyfriend would never fulfill her fantasies, would he?

Brad is a handsome, straight-laced business student who treats Rachel like a princess. Does anything darker lurk behind his perfect smile?

With a little push from a friend, Rachel is about to embark on the kind of sexy adventure she’s only dreamed about. This book contains explicit content and first time BDSM erotica with a MMF threesome.

 

Daily Prompt: Ooze

I never knew what it meant to ooze sexiness. The two words seemed at odds. Oozing is for wounds, for sludge pouring through the cracks in what was supposed to be a sealed container. Watch out folks, we have a chemical spill here.

Well, maybe it works. You’re certainly hazardous for my health. My heart threatens to beat out of my chest when you look at me. Your eyes are made of the molten core of the sun, so hot, but they cause wetness to gather between my thighs. I need a cool glass of water just looking at you, I need to put my hands on your chest and map the contours of your body.

You ooze sexiness. I get it now. I wonder what else you’re going to teach me.

via Daily Prompt: Ooze

Now for a little bit of author rambling: I tried to describe someone incredibly alluring without mentioning their physical attributes at all, instead focusing on the effect they had on someone else. It was a fun little exercise, with the keyword being little. This is the shortest prompt I’ve done yet, but more words didn’t seem to add anything, they maybe even detracted.

Give it a try in the comments, describe someone you lust after without using their characteristics.

 

Waiting is the hardest part

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Most people think of guys as horny, sex crazed idiots, but not everybody has a fiancé like mine. Erik’s tall, over 6ft while I’m barely 5ft, which means I get to climb him like a tree. His skin feels so good next to mine, and he’s positively dreamy with dimples and permanent bedhead. I melt whenever I see him. So, I think about sex. With him. A lot. I normally have sex. With him. A lot.

With our wedding just a month away, we’re now waiting until our wedding night to have sex again. To make it more special or something. Maybe this is my soon-to-be hubby being romantic or maybe it’s latent Catholic guilt, but if I figure out who gave him that idea I’m going to kill them. Slowly. Painfully. It seemed alright at first until I actually went a week without being under him, on him, having him in me. Then it became torture.

Today was a perfect storm of repressed lust. First, we went over to my sister’s house, and Erik helped her husband build a tree-house for my nieces and nephews. I was treated to hours of his gorgeous, shirtless body lifting pieces of wood and flexing his muscles. Then he’d bend over for a tool and show me his firm, bitable ass.

After that we went inside and he cradled my sis’s youngest in his arms and sang her a lullaby. It was precious. I wanted to capture that moment and treasure it forever. I also wanted to take him home and do terrible things to him. I’ve never been more mad at my hot, sweet fiancé for being hot and sweet. Okay, normally I’m not mad about that at all.

I can’t sleep. I know what I need. And I’ll have to give it to myself. I don’t bother getting out of bed, maybe he’ll wake up, understand what he’s been doing to me. I want him so much, this solo act is nothing compared to our bodies moving together.

Nothing’s been going to plan lately. As soon as a hand sneaks below my pajama pants, I’m busted.

“What are you doing?” I can’t see him clearly in the darkness of the room but can feel his eyes on me.

“I’m planning to fuck myself on my fingers,” I slowly explain, making a show of moving my hand, and I feel his stare laser focus to between my thighs. “Unless you have a better idea.”

“I’m waiting until my wedding night.” His voice sounded husky, the way it gets when he’s turned on, but also firm. He’s not budging.

I groaned in frustration, my fingers can’t fill me the way he can.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t watch.”

Oh, what a devious, wonderful man. Now I can drive him as crazy as he makes me.

via Daily Prompt: Solitary

Poll Time

I’m working on a story I’m excited about and would appreciate any feedback about a title.

Here’s a nice, vague summary:

A desperate young executive crosses the line of professionalism to safeguard her career, but how far is she willing to go to get ahead?

I’ll be revealing more about this project later, but it’s erotica (obviously) and that description shows you where I’m going with the title. Besides, I can’t reveal too much. Isn’t the tease part of the fun in erotica? 😉

Thank you so many for your votes! This will help me pick a title for my upcoming story.

Source: Poll

Link

Map Making

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Is it cliché to say my body was a map and he searched it dutifully, seeking a path to the promised land? Probably, it’s trite, but I don’t care. It certainly felt like he was an intrepid explorer, carefully scaling down the ridge of my neck, placing kisses in precise spots to make me shudder.

He traced the planes of my body with questing fingers then his tongue, leaving no area untouched. I held his head in my hands and tugged on his silky, dark locks while he licked and lapped at the skin between my breasts.

My body curled into his, needing him close, but I became a geographical landscape again, a map unfurling as he worked his way down. Body spreading out and arching, throwing my head back, limbs flying away and clutching the sheets as his tongue delved into my wet cavern. He mapped out my most intimate area like a good surveyor should: with dedication and thoroughness, and a passion for his craft.

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Home Improvement

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Construction has never seemed particularly erotic before. Neon yellow hardhats don’t go well with most complexions, and sweaty men with beer guts toiling in sawdust isn’t especially appealing.

It’s different with him.

I walk my dog Lola, a loyal, exuberant black lab mix, dutifully throughout the neighborhood every day, sometimes twice a day. There was little fanfare when the house at the end of block finally sold. It was the crumbling, ramshackle kind of place that brought down property values, and a completely overhaul was needed. Instead of a construction crew pulling up with bulldozers and manpower and making a racket at all hours, there was just one man.

I doubted he was one of those house flippers who fixed up a bargain home and sold it for a profit. He was too methodical. They needed to flip houses fast, but he was in no hurry. He worked in the space in the front yard or on his porch as much as possible, crafting something with wood and a saw bench, before disappearing inside for stretches at a time.

I like when he’s out front. His sun kissed skin was hard earned, not artificial from a tanning bed or as simple as just laying out all day and lazing. He started in tank tops and jeans, already hard at work in the morning, but painting or working on the garden. Another sign he was going to stay in the house, he was a conscientious neighbor.

When we passed later in the day, the shirt came off revealing gleaming muscles, also gained by hard work and determination. I was suddenly very interested in home remodeling and renovation. I wanted to run my hands on the raw materials he was working with, feel the grainy wood and then see how he transformed it into something smooth and beautiful. Then, I wanted to run my hands all over him, already smooth and beautiful.

For now, I circle the block, exchange little waves. Lola’s as impatient and eager to meet the stranger as me, though she reacts that way to everyone. I keep her steady when she pulls, walk on the path instead of straying. There’s other single women in our neighborhood, and married ones, who saunter over with baked goods or low-cut tops. His steady eyes seem to see through them.

So, I wait. And imagine. Maybe when the house is finished he’ll invite me in. Maybe I’ll ask him for advice about one of the many home improvements projects my house could use that I haven’t gotten around to. Maybe I’ll just ask if he’s ever wanted to lick every inch of my skin the way I have his.

So many possibilities. I walk, and play them in my mind. Eager to see which one becomes reality.

 

via Daily Prompt: Grainy

Pleasant Dreams

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I was having a dream about mermaids. Slowly, the blues and greens of their underwater world were replaced with the oranges and yellows of the early morning as rays of sunlight broke their way into my room. The cool, flowing water rushing around my skin was replaced with silk sheets, bearing some resemblance to the water but warm from prolonged contact with my skin.

I drifted in between two worlds, a vivid dream becoming hazier as reality slowly snuck in while I edged toward wakefulness. I fought the tug of conscious thought, trying to retreat back into slumber. A prickling sensation on the back of my neck jolted me into the real world. I could feel your stare.

My body was warm, wrapped up in layers of bedding, but the weight of your gaze sent a shiver through me. I’m wide awake now, but getting up or speaking would waste a perfectly good opportunity. Instead, I kept my eyes closed. I stretched then settled, exposing the line of my neck. A patch of skin became visible around my midsection as my sleep top rode up and the covers were tossed aside.

You barely make noise when moving across the room, but your soft footfalls were the only sound in the otherwise quiet space. Your presence hovered over me until finally one finger brushed over my hip. I don’t react to the surprise touch, other than to push drowsily into it. Your hand sweeps over the skin of my stomach, a smooth touch that stirs the beginnings of lust low in my belly. I sigh softly, as if going from a normal dream to a very pleasant one.

The mattress dipped with your weight. You go slow, careful not to wake me, pressing light, lingering touches everywhere, my cheek, an elbow, my clavicle, followed by little kisses. I feel a heaviness return to my body and let myself drift, feeling the touches in a state of limbo. Your hand traces the elastic of my panties. This will be both a very good dream and a wonderful way to start the morning.

via Daily Prompt: Prickle

Another Free Story

I’m trying out free promotions through Kindle deals on Amazon, and this story is available for free from Monday until Friday.

For those fun, sexy adventures I’m using the Abby White pen name. However, the Kelly Whip pen name isn’t missing out on the deals as my Extracurricular Activities series is also FREE.

It’s normally $2.99, so get this complete two-story series for FREE right now!