Nov 15

My Legitimate Seat at the Erotica Table

“Hi. My name is Dr. J. I am an erotica writer.”

Your turn.

As an experiment, insert your name and make that statement to someone.

Did you hesitate?

What was your body response?

What was their body response?

What did the person say to you?

If your experience was like mine, you received an instant like or a dislike response, no in-between grey area.

This week I have confirmation that I am an erotica writer. My work releases on Tuesday, November 21 in Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 3. Read what my editor, Rachel Kramer Bussel said about it.

Infused Leather, by Dr. J., “tackles the topic of sexual abuse as its heroine discovers a way to overcome her past and make her current fetish one that leaves her utterly smitten, while also showcasing just how hot having an inanimate object to fixate on can be.”

With the impending release of this book, I stopped to reflect on the totality of my sexuality career.


Many of you may know that writing erotica was never on my To-Do List. When I began writing for this submission call, I didn’t knowingly set out to write an erotica story about sexual abuse and healing, but it emerged. After re-reading Rachel’s comments, it appears that my sexuality career experiences have integrated into my subconscious.

Somewhere in the midst of my reflection, this question popped in: Is writing erotica legitimate?

For years, I defended that question about sexuality education and therapy. When individuals had a sexual concern, I wondered if they considered who would help them to address it. Who was an expert? What training had they received about sex? Who did they think provided sexuality training for physicians, nurses, PAs, and therapists? Feel free to continue the list. And remember to add teachers and parents.

For my entire career, I provided sex therapy to clients and trained professionals in sex-positive modalities. I sought out a higher standard of training in human sexuality and obtained degrees and certifications. I was fearless in teaching sex-positive education. Spewing facts, dispelling myths and misinformation was my thing.

So how does this fit with writing erotica? It seems that the lack of acceptance of sexuality effects erotica too, if not more. I believe it is still a social construct issue.

I asked my #sisterinsmut, Mischa Eliot, to share her thoughts about the societal view of erotica. “Erotica is automatically dismissed simply because people consider it to be written porn. They expect nothing about character growth or morals or learning or anything else. They see the word erotica and make that face like something stinky was just placed in front of them.” And in writing specifically, “Erotica is the black sheep of the romance family. The aunt that drinks too much and pinches too hard. The slutty sister that continually gets her heart broken.”

Encapsulated in Mischa’s responses are those negative societal beliefs which are also entrenched in the microcosm of the writing industry.

So again, I find myself in the arena of working to legitimize sexuality, this time with erotica.

I have many thoughts on this topic and will write more about them in the future.

For now, please check out Best Women’s Erotica, Volume 3 and all its talented contributors.

I am honored to included among other wonderful erotica authors: Abigail Barnette-Jenny Trout, Rachel Woe, Sommer Marsden, Thien-Kim Lam, R.J. Richardson, Kris Adams, Angell Brooks, Lyla Sage, August McLaughlin, Charlie Powell, Dee Blake, Aya de Leon, Brandy Fox, Leandra Vane, Lynn Townsend, B.B. Sanchez, Charlotte Stein, Tamsin Flowers, Emmanuelle de Maupassant, and Annabel Joseph.

I hope you enjoy my new story as I embrace my new life mission—Legitimizing Erotica.

P.S. Authors thrive when you share review love!





Nov 04

A Dirty Martini and Other Naughty Things

This ninth story finishes out the current Beth, Rafe, and Mara adventure, but it’s not the end. Go see what happens. If you want to start at the beginning, click here.

Because of our long grueling workweek, Beth and I had not talked about her sexual adventure with Mara. I had not yet shared the hand-job events between Jason and me or the blowjob he gave me. But now that Friday night rolled around, I was ready to spill my story and compare our notes.

We headed out to hear our favorite local rock and roll band at a swanky new club. A thumping bass greeted us at the door and with the whooping and hollering bouncing off the walls, the place was packed.

“Head over to the bar, Beth. I bet we can squeeze in there.”

“Sure, Rafe. I know you are always looking for a dark place.” She winked at me. I pushed her in front of me and squeezed her ass.

Her auburn hair cascaded down her back over the new corset and top she wore. Her dancer’s legs under her short flirty skirt had me reeling. My mind was a soggy sexual mess. I had had fantasies about her, Mara, and Jason all week.

I followed her around the corner of the bar, down to the short end with four seats. A couple vacated the two stools next to the wall as we walked up. Perfect.

“I want a playful drink tonight, Rafe.” Oh, I liked it when she played this game. I pulled the bar stools out, and we slid into the corner.

“Drinks aren’t playful.”

“I want one to match my mood.”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and rocked her body to the beat. Beth’s hard nipples under the nearly see-through top under the corset came into view. She was on the move. My woman was perfect and could tease. Her black corset pressed up under her breasts and set them on center stage. The light material shadowed her nipples. Hmmm, such an invitation.

“Which mood is that?”

“Flirty. Or maybe filthy. Like Sex on the Beach.”

“Hmmm. Maybe I can persuade you to have a Slow Comfortable Screw.”

“Oh, no. Since I’m in a beach mood, maybe I should try something new, like Oral Sex on the Beach.” Beth waggled her eyebrows.

Any other time I would have thought about her going down on me, but today all I could think about was her with Mara. I had to hear the details. No, I needed to experience the details. I wanted Beth’s description of her tongue action between Mara’s legs. I planned to include the specifics, the images, and sounds, into my repertoire for getting off with her. Just thinking about it caused my heart to race.

I wondered if she would think about Jason and me the same way? I mean, she was the one who wanted to see me with a man. How would that heat her up? Beth pulled on my arm, lifted it, and placed it on her shoulder as if she confirmed hearing my thoughts. Her hair tickled my face, and her floral shampoo delighted my nose.

“You’re playing with fire, Beth. I want to know what happened between you and Mara.” I licked her ear.

“What’ll it be?” I looked up to see the bartender blatantly staring at Beth’s boobs.

“I’ll have a dirty martini,” said Beth.

“Gin and tonic. Thanks, man,” I said through gritted teeth. “You see you’re a sex magnet in that new outfit.”

“Babe, I like it hot, and I wore this for you.”

“Your sexy magnetism in this outfit is undeniable.”

“I like that, Rafe. Let me show you more.”

Her fingers walked from my forearm to my face and with her pointer finger, she traced across my bottom lip. My mouth went slack as she dipped inside my lip ever so slightly. She cooed and brushed the moisture over my lip. Her delicate touch traced and explored, loving me. Beth tasted like desire. After snagging my lip with a playful bite, her passion came at me through a deep, long kiss.

“Are you fired up because of me or because of the bartender?”

“Hmm.” Beth laughed. “He was looking at your hotness, Rafe long before he looked at me and that turned me on.”

“It turns me on, too.”

Beth jumped and looked over her shoulder toward the sound of the voice.


“Beth. Rafe.” Jason’s piercing stare pinned me, and when I recognized the glint in his eye, I experienced a natural arousal response.

“What are you drinking, Jason?” What a lame attempt at normalizing, Rafe. Not sure I could normalize with the sexual tension that filled the space between him and me. Could Beth feel it?

When the bartender placed our drinks in front of us, he turned to Jason.

“Beth, did you get a dirty martini?” said Jason chuckling.

“You know I like it dirty, Jason.”

“So, I’ve heard. I’ll have what he’s having, thanks.”

I emitted a ridiculous strangling sound as I attempted to sip my drink.

“You okay, Rafe?”

“Well, I—” What an awkward moment. I was back on the couch fisting two cocks and then—

“Rafe, you haven’t told her.”

Well, fuck no. I planned to discuss sex over the weekend, but Jason had preempted me.

Beth stirred her martini and scrutinized me. Moving around her, Jason stood in front of both of us.

“Have I misunderstood, something? I thought you two wanted to include others in sexy time.”

“Jason, you’re right. Rafe and I are working to add other people in our sexual play.” Beth glanced at me. “I told Jason about my fantasy of you being with another man.”

And with that tidbit, Beth confirmed that Jason was a setup. But she didn’t know what happened.

“Jason and I talked, too,” I said. Jason smirked. Beth watched us both carefully and then looked down at my tapping finger. “Ok, we did more than talk.”

“Aha! I was right about the sex smell in the room when I came home from Mara’s.” She patted my knee. “Working to make my dreams come true.”

“Wait, you were with Mara, Mara Bentley?”

“Yeah. Do you know her?”

“Mara’s my boss. I’m the manager of the Tops and Bottoms Club.”

“She mentioned that she and Celeste owned the club.” All of this information was news to me. What was this club?

“That’s why I’m here tonight. We’ve set up a little introduction to the club in the women’s bathroom. You should go check it out, Beth. Next to the last stall. And here, take this with you.” He pulled a small, flat vibrator from his bag and handed it to Beth.

“This sounds intriguing. I’m game. Get me, Rafe, if I don’t come back. I’m working on filthy.”

Beth left, and Jason sat down as the bartender brought his drink.

“Didn’t mean to overstep there, Rafe. Beth talked like you two were on the same page.”

“Yeah, we are. All this is new. I’m finding my footing and how to talk about it, that’s all. No worries.” Jason seemed so carefree about our time together. Would I ever get to that place? I took another sip on my drink. “Why don’t you tell me what Beth’s going to find in the bathroom?”

“We created glory hole for breasts. It should be fun.”


After I pushed open the heavy door to the ladies’ room, I headed for the designated stall, eager about what would happen. A flashy advertisement for the Tops and Bottoms Club decorated the door. It included an invitation to come in and sample. I stepped inside, closed, and locked the door.

“Hi, there, girlfriend.”


“You ready to have a little naughty female fun?” Mara had whetted my appetite for female play and if this was her business, how could I not want to check it out.

“Sounds fascinating.”

“Do you have the toy?”


“Open the package, so it’s ready when you are.”


“Bare your breasts and then lift the Tops and Bottoms placard from the wall divider. Place the placard on the hook and push your girls into the open hole.”

That was pretty straightforward. I pulled my shirt down over the corset and released my breasts to the air, and my nipples hardened. Am I doing this?

Carefully, I lifted the placard and peeked into the next stall, seeing nothing, before I set it on the hook. I eased my chest forward presenting my breasts into the open space as I pressed my body flat against the stall divider. All my feminine glory was now on display in the next stall. If this exhilaration is how men feel shoving their cock in a glory hole, I understood the draw.

“Are you ready for this?”

“God, I hope so.”

With warm hands cupping my breasts, kneading and pulling on them, my hip bones ground into the rigid surface. It was as if every aspect of my body wanted to participate. I was giving myself over to the sensations of the massage. I was giddy, horny, and wanted more.

“I’d like to provide another service.”

“Yes, surprise me.”

Nailed fingers began clawing at my nipples as warm lips and a nose nuzzled under the swell of my breast.


“This combination appeals to you?”

“Oh, yes.” The instant heat between my legs surprised me and ramped up my excitement.

A firm pinch and twist to my nipples caused me to bump up against the wall.

“Damn, that’s good.”

“You want a real fucking, don’t you sexy?”

My breasts were squished together, and a wet, long tongue wiggled up and down their crevice. When the hot, mouth and lips sucked one nipple in with a nip, I instinctively drew my body up tall. Lifting my arms, I held onto the top of the stall divider and pushed my breasts out further hoping for more. My hard barrier could only let me go so far. Fingers were everywhere, lips and a tongue were everywhere. I couldn’t believe how wonderful this felt. My excitement pooled in my crotch. I was needy.

Had my nipples and breasts ever been the focus of such hot sexual action? I loved it. I felt naughty here in the restroom, and I wanted raunchy.

“Talk dirty to me.”

“You’re a good slut. Those nipples are mine.”

“Yes, yes they are. Slap them.”

Smack. Smack.

“They look sexy wearing my handprints.” I wiggled up on my toes, hanging on by my fingers.

“Pinch them harder.”

“Oh, you slut. I can do better than that.”

I nearly shot off the floor when something hard and cold clasped my nipple. Pain riveted through my body as wetness ran down my thighs. A deep craving bloomed inside of me.

“Oh, oh, ohhh… what’s your name.”

“Candace and you’re my nipple-pain-whore.”

Candace slapped and then massaged each breast.

“Oh, please, clamp the other one, Candace.” The aching in my pelvis matched the throbbing of my nipples, amplifying my need, my want, and my desire to orgasm. Candace moved quickly and with no other warning, clamped my other nipple.

I was sure Rafe would never believe this. I imagined him being in the stall with Candace, watching as her breasts responded. He would use his fingers, his mouth, his cock to help me orgasm.

“Candace, I have to come.”

“Take out the vibrator.”

I pushed the vibrator out of my pocket and flipped the switch with my thumb. The buzz filled the space. I slid the flat, vibrating toy between my legs against my clit.

“Oh, my slutty whore, I’m going to rile you up.”

Candace wiggled the metal on each clamped nipple, and I thought I might implode. Did she pull on both of them at the same time? With one hand pressed tight against the vibrator, my other hand held me in place against the wall as I dropped her head back. I savored the erotic nipple adventure with Candace.

“Oh, God, Candace, I’m coming.”

“Yes, you are my slut.”

And in that second, she pulled the clamps off my nipples, and the blood rushed in. I had never throbbed like this. Sounds came out of me that I couldn’t comprehend. I tasted blood as I must have bit my tongue. Who would have thought a bathroom stall would be where I had the orgasm of my life?

As my consciousness came back into bathroom reality, Candace continued massaging, licking, and kissing my nipples. She bathed me in warm, loving sensations.

“Miss Slut, you were awesome. That vibrator is our gift. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”

“Can you talk to me while I dress?”

“I can. First step back. Then hang the placard over the opening.”

I followed the instructions as I looked down at my breasts.

“You see the pleasure marks?”

“I do. Wow, I have never been this colorful before.”

“When you’re in the space between pleasure and pain your body can experience a lot. You see what yours did. Pamper your skin when you go home.”

“Okay. Is this how women play at the Tops and Bottoms Club?” I pulled my sheer blouse up over my shoulders and breasts. As I buttoned up, the material touched my tender nipples.

“Ooh, a little sore.”

“Breast worship is a common play at the club. Your nipples will toughen up if you continue this play.” I remembered the nipple jewelry that Mara and Celeste wore. I was beginning to understand. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Absolutely, phenomenal.”

“Jason has the membership information. Check it out. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Thanks, Candace. I’ll get it from Jason.”


I felt Beth return to the bar before she leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Thank you for allowing me the interlude, Rafe.”

I could see a few marks on her skin and my cock stirred. So, this was an outcome of the glory holes for breasts?

“Did you like your surprise?” I asked.

Beth snuggled in between my legs and whispered in my ear. “Yes, and I thought about what it would make you do.” She turned and picked up her martini and sipped. Her skirt covered one of my legs, giving direct access to her nakedness. Beth wiggled and scooted closer to me. I felt the wetness on her thigh, so I moved my fingers higher and found ample lubrication. I stroked back and forth in her slick channel. Beth squirmed.

“So, Beth, what shall I tell Celeste and Mara about their advertising experiment?”

“Yeah, babe, do tell.”

“The um, treatment was stellar. And thank you for the vibrator.”

“Think maybe you’d like to partake in a more individualized and tailored event at the club?”

“I believe I would, Jason, but Rafe would have to fit into this plan, too.”

Beth pushed back into my hand, so I slipped two fingers inside her wetness. Her arousal wafted in my face.

“Yeah, how about me?”

“While the club is a haven for all feminine desires, they do cater to the requirements of women about their men. Submission scenes, cuckolding scenes or whatever other desire a woman might want to experience with her male partner. We’ll set up special events with members interests in mind.”

As the music changed to a faster beat, Beth bobbed to the music fucking my fingers faster while Jason watched. This behavior was new and in public, hot as hell. Whatever happened in the bathroom will happen again.

“Jason, if we can enjoy ourselves sexually with like-minded people while we explore new activities that incorporate safety and consent, I’m interested.”

“What about you, Rafe? I’d be available for the male-on-male action at the club.”

Before I could answer Beth exploded. The crescendo of the music and her orgasm were simultaneous. She raised her hands as if she was dancing.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

When the song ended, Beth slumped back in my lap, and I let my fingers stay inside her, so she remembered we were connected.

“If a new adventure is what Beth wants, I’m in.” I wiggled my fingers inside her, and she snuggled into my chest.

“It’s clear that Beth is a woman who goes after what she wants. Let’s toast,” said Jason. We each picked up our glass. “To new adventures at the Tops and Bottoms Club.”

The series the Tops and Bottoms Club will be exclusive on Radish Fiction beginning January 2018. Go to your iTunes or Google Play store and download the app to see what happens with our crew.

Writing for Masturbation Monday where you can find many sexy stories to take the edge off!





Oct 18

Two Years Down the Writing Road

Two years ago, I attended my first Florida Writers Conference, 2015. I arrived with only an idea of what fiction writing was all about, and I learned so much. This week is the annual Florida Writers Conference 2017, and I’m excited to go. Since I’m a little further down the writing road, it will take on a different feel.




I will be staying with two women from my Pen Ten Group, Editor, Heather Whitaker and Author, Laura Lascarso. Heather and I met six months before I went to that 2015 FWA conference. I have attended several of Heather’s workshops, formal and the most fun, informal. She has created a new working writers group. There are ten of us, thus Pen Ten. Everyone lives near each other except me. I SKYPE in. Laura is in the group, too. Laura has been a guest on my blog, yet we’ve not met except for waving at each other on SKYPE. This conference will be our real-life meet.

Driving up from South Florida will be my Wicked Pens Colleague, Pandora Spocks. This meeting will be my second get together with Pandora. She is an excellent storyteller. Check out her work.

As Wicked Pens, we have partnered with Kink Crate to share your products. Networking for erotica at this conference will be on the down low. Most folks won’t know that I get to spend time with Kink Crate folks there. I hope to be able to introduce Pandora to their team.









Pandora came to see me that day in July when I drove to Orlando to meet The Radish Fiction CEO, Seung-yoon Lee (SY) and Editor, Katherine Pelz. That seems like a lifetime ago. Meeting the people who represent so many components of the writing and publishing is a highlight to the process of being a writer.

Check me out on Radish Fiction. I have two stories available in the new Late-Night section.

And my liveliness for all this writing growth ties directly to Mischa Eliot and Oleander Plume. We had our first three-way SKYPE this week. Our energy was high. We kept blowing up the technology. It took nearly 30 minutes to get is simmered down, but after that, our conversation inspired. The next morning, I awoke with an ending of one story and the beginning of another. Yey, team. Check us out on Twitter. We rock there, too.













So now, I am packing up my stuff, and heading to the FWA Conference. Steve Berry and David Morrill are headlining. I look forward to meeting new folks and catching up with old friends.

Look out. I’m on the loose. Creative muses find me!

Oct 02

My Writer’s Life: 5 Times I Laughed and Learned this Week.

This past week had five lovely moments of laughing and learning.

1-My Live-in Editor.

Every writer should live with an editor for a while, especially if it’s your favorite. For me, that would be my friend, Heather Whitaker. While she worked on different manuscripts at my dining room table, I experienced her editing process. We traded words and ideas, storyboarding, micro-tension, internal and external conflict. The learning curve was fascinating. I stayed up late, I slept harder, and my dreams commenced. It was an invigorating experience. Every writer should take the opportunity if they get it. Oh, the laughing and food were good, too.


2-Radish Fiction-Week One.

I posted my first story a week ago Saturday at Noon with Radish Fiction. My writing buddy, Mischa Eliot held my proverbial hand as we giggled together on SKYPE while I pressed the release button. I believe life’s significant moments should have witnesses. This event was a defining moment for me, and Mischa was my witness. I am happy to share that I have accrued 1029 views. I am tickled pink.

Do you know what Radish is? Serialized reading is the Radish concept. They even call each new part of your story an episode. That makes me feel like I’m the director of my weekly TV show. I ask myself, how I can get my characters into sexual predicaments that the readers will enjoy? HMMMM. If you stay tuned weekly, then you can see what happens.

3-Consensually Speaking Podcast Interview.

I met Consensually Speaking host, Gio the Arrogant on Twitter. Through our great connection and after Gio had interviewed the two other people of my author tripod, Mischa Eliot, and Oleander Plume, he invited me to his podcast. He had a calm and folksy ease with his questions and comments. I love it when I surprise people who have one impression of me from social media and then interact with me. Maybe only a few will believe it, but he said he thought I’d be reserved. People who know me in real life know, what you see is what you get.

Tune in to Consensually Speaking podcasts and hear about sex-positive kink. As I typed this, it struck me that Gio’s voice, in tone and delivery of lines, reminded me of Christian Slater in the movie (1990) Pump Up the Volume.

4-A HOT Muse Walked into My House.

Yes, he did walk into my house, and everything went into slow motion. Instantly, I pressed the pause button on my life, and a fully formed story arrived. I digested what was in front of me and how I could use it. Hello, Jericho Stone, my new character. It’s incredible when the perfect muse shows up with a writer gift and points you toward your storyline that had been sitting on the back-burner. Priceless.

5-My Monthly Hair Event.

At the end of the week, I had scheduled my pampering and massage, in the form of my hair appointment. Head massages are my favorite. It is something I look forward to every month. The best part, it is reciprocal. The folks there look forward to my visits because they receive previews of coming writing attractions. But this week, they stole the show, and I got story ideas from them. My presence alone must promote the creative sexual juices flowing because they mused about what their sexual senses craved. We got down to the details like how handy the up and down motion of the salon chair might be for sex scenes. I tweeted that something interesting was happening at the salon. Three people joined in that feed, and I thought the people at the hair salon were going to explode. Everyone had a blast participating in this brainstorming story idea. A thank you goes out to my hair and Twitter crew. I’m still laughing. You know who you are and what you did!

That was last week. I don’t know what this week will bring, but I hope the laughing and learning continue.


Sep 26

When Male Bodies Meet

This story is a serial. You can start at the beginning with When the Sheets Talk.

When the door closed behind Beth, I jumped off the couch and began pacing circles around the room. Her excitement and nervousness ran through my body. We were so in tune. Beth had told me that when she and Mara were alone, Mara focused on Beth’s orgasm. Alone time today meant that Beth would learn what it was like to be the giver. For my selfish reasons, I wanted her to have a good experience. I wanted our threesome to continue.

I liked that Mara was taking her time with Beth, allowing her to find her footing with female desires. Beth would discover the pleasure I already knew. The scent of a woman, her soft, supple folds, and the hard, round nub of a clit on your tongue. She’d have her first experience with all of that and then bring it back home to me.

Am I jealous? Well, maybe I was. Beth would be having fun without me in the mix this afternoon. I would miss Mara’s luscious lips going down on Beth. I craved to see Beth taste Mara. Her tongue was magic, and I wanted to see Mara respond to my woman. That picture created an instant boner.

I strode over to the coffee table, picked up the remote, and sat down. Hitting favorites, I pulled up our porn link. A new channel featuring men-on-men caught my attention. I considered Beth’s dream, me with another man. I wasn’t sure what I thought about her idea. It wasn’t something I’d done before, but I was curious, so I clicked on that channel.

Two ripped, nude, well-endowed men appeared front and center on the TV screen as my front door flew open.

“Hey, dude. I saw that Beth left. You want to do something?”

Fumbling with the remote to turn off the TV, I hit all the wrong buttons. I looked over my shoulder, and there stood Jason staring at the TV.

“Jason, man. What’s up?” He pointed past me.

“Well, duh, that’s a stupid question. Look at those dicks on those guys.”

I glanced back at the TV to see a new scene with two, hunky weightlifter types stroking each other’s cock.

“You like gay porn, Rafe?”

Not a question I expected to hear today, and certainly not from Jason. We had met six months ago at the local bar. When Beth and I moved into this apartment complex, we found that lots of the tenants hung out there. Since the day we met, Jason and I routinely drank beer and watched sports. Sex was not a topic we discussed.

“I don’t know that I do.”

“Then why do you have it on? Damn, these guys are good. And hung, too. They’ll be shooting off in no time.”

I looked back at the screen, evaluating the picture. Two sets of eager fingers worked their way over balls, cocks, taints, and holes.

Jason plopped down on the couch beside me.

“I like that blonde’s stroke. It made me hard. Turn it up.”

I looked down at the remote in my hand and pressed the volume up button.

“You don’t mind, do you, bruh,” said Jason as he unfastened his pants, pulled his zipper down, and grabbed his cock. “This is too good to waste. Join me. I see that chubby you’ve got.”

Jason was right. I was hard. Now that he had pointed it out, I got harder. That was a first. Me getting hard around men. Beth’s dream must be affecting me.

“Damn, Rafe, look at how that guy rubs his thumb right at the base of the helmet. That’s what I’m talking about.”

Jason had his cock in hand, and I was, I don’t know, interested? Intrigued? Horny?

Groans, mumbles, and moans from the surround-sound system filled the room. What should I do? One part of my body had a clear plan. My cock pushed against my pants wanting release. Why not join Jason? He had sprawled out on the couch for either maximum comfort or pleasure.

“Do you usually watch guys do each other, Jason?”

“Sometimes. When I want it hard and fast, guys serve the purpose better.”

“How so?”

“I like the gusto that men bring to sex. It’s different and fun.

I stared at Jason jerking himself off, while the sights and sounds of the guys on TV complimented his effort.

Life had presented me with an opportunity to check out the possibility of Beth’s suggestion. Since Beth was enjoying herself with Mara, I could do some research about her dream. I didn’t think she’d be upset, so I pulled down my gym shorts and whipped out my dick.

Jason matched his stroke to the blond on the TV. What a wanking pair we were. When the blond reached over and grabbed his partner’s dick, it spurred me on.

“Let me, Jason.”

He grinned. “Alright. Have at it, man.”

With his dick in my left hand and mine in my right, I pulled equal strokes. Jason had an ample girth, more than mine but his skin slid over the hardness effortlessly. It was a powerful feeling to wield two hard cocks producing the ultimate in pleasure. I pretended both were mine. I was going at it strong when Jason stopped me.

“Rafe. How about taking this a little further?”

“What do you mean?”

He nodded toward the screen. “Look at the guys.”

The sounds from the TV registered before I viewed it. It was a mmmm-moaning. When I checked, blondie was going down on the brunette. The dark-haired man nearly levitated off his seat. Damn, it looked so good that I thought my balls might explode.

“Go for it, Jason.”

And he did. Jason performed a hoover-maneuver on my cock as I had never experienced. He bobbed, sucked, and licked. The power of his mouth blew my mind. It was consistent, firm, and tight on my cock. I was in heaven. While he worked me over, I continued stroking him until I was about to cum.

“Jason, I’m coming.”

He never let up. I emptied my boys as hard as I ever have and my moaning covered the TV’s soundtrack.

Jason was still hard in my hand, and I kept rubbing to finish him off, too. He settled back in the cushions.

“What do you want me to do Jason?”

He turned his head and facing me and and nailed me with a seductive gaze.

“Nipples. Do my nipples.”

He pulled up his tee-shirt. Damn, his pecs would have made a marine Sargent proud. Two pierced nipples with a nipple ring each completed the set. It was hot. I moved closer to him and kept the stroke going.

To taste a man. Could I, do it? It was skin, a nipple. My thumb had just hit the sweet spot on his erection, and Jason let out a sound, a cross between a whimper and a whine. It elicited a familiar feeling in me. I knew he was close. A little extra would tip him over the edge…touches or licks. I leaned over and tongued his metal ring until I heard it clink on my teeth. I latched onto his nipple and picked up the pace on him.

I closed my eyes. First, I imagined Beth caressing me. I could see her watching me pleasure Jason. I felt her warm eyes glowing with excitement. This action would turn Beth on.

Jason’s jerky pelvis announced his orgasm.

After his breathing slowed, Jason dropped his head on the back of the couch, and I used my tee-shirt and wiped my hand.

Everything was still, and then a new porn clip blasted in the air.

“Hey, Rafe, great jerk, and suck. I’m all mellow. Perfect time for me to go take a nap.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“If you’re into it Rafe, maybe we can do that again, sometime.”

“Ah, we’ll see.”

Jason tucked and zipped. Before he left the apartment, he called out to me. “Tell Beth, thanks for the heads up.”

I stretched out on the sofa wondering what he meant and if I’d take him up on his offer. In no time, I fell asleep.

Warm lips nibbling on my ears woke me.

“Hey, darlin’. Not like you to take a nap in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, extenuating circumstances.”

“Really? I see you have the gay porn channel on and your shirt is crusty here.” She slid her hand across my stomach. “You’ve been enjoying yourself.”

I bolted upright and saw ‘our’ entertaining film.

Beth looked at me and smirked. “I like your ingenuity.”

She kissed my nose, and an unmistakable aroma wafted off her.

“Hmmm. What is that new perfume, you’re wearing? Perhaps, Scent by Mara?”

Her blush hit me in the groin. She bit her lip and grinned. “You know, Rafe, this room has a specific aromatic smell, too.”

Had she set me up?

Read the conclusion of the series. A Martini and Other Naughty Things.


Writing today for Masturbation Monday.

Click to find other smutty stories.

Sep 19

Exploring a Sex Goddess ~ff~

This is a serial. If you would like to read from the beginning start with When the Sheets Talk.

Holding Mara’s breast in my hand, I pondered her words. How would I describe to Rafe, what I did with Mara? I had never talked about my attraction to women or their breasts, much less knowing I enjoyed decorating them. But he gets off on me discovering new things about myself and sharing that information. That thought calmed me.

I’d tell him all about the art in the living room that depicted graphically, women loving women. I’d explain how my heart rate went up when Mara walked in, with swaying hips accentuated by the knot of her sarong and highlighted by her bare but now decorated breasts. They seduced me.

“Mara, do you allow people to freely touch your body?”

“Only women. And I must feel lust.” She winked at me.

“You’re talking about me.”


How could someone half naked be so comfortable with this situation? I wasn’t. So many feelings rushed through me, anxiety and desire. My body reacted. The smell of my want expanded into the room. I had been cradling Mara’s breast and using my thumb to enjoy the metal balls on either side of her nipple. The contrast was pleasant. Hard against soft, slick next to silky.

“This is all new to you, isn’t it Beth?”

“You were my first female lover, Mara.”

“Everyone has a first time. That explains your tentative touches. I’m happy it was with me.” She reached out and touched my wrist. “Try using both hands.”

I liked talking about sex while being sexual. Rafe and I were good at sexual banter, in and out of bed. I never imagined it could be the same way with a woman.

Taking a breast in each hand, and I continued to stroke Mara’s nipples.

“Mara, what if I wanted to explore you everywhere, slowly?”

“If that’s what you’d like. How about now?”

Now? Decision time. She took my hands in hers and kissed them. Her touch was a lifeline to possibilities.

“Yes, but what if I disappoint you with my lack of experience or ease?”

“You won’t if you stay with the moment and what you are enjoying. Listen for feedback. I’ve seen you follow your intuition with Rafe. We’ll be great.”

She pulled me up and threw me a knowing grin. Every part of my being said to go with her suggestion. When Mara dropped my hands, she unknotted the sarong and let it drop. Her naked exotic beauty with those adorned nipples captured me. I wanted her. She turned, and that gorgeous ass beckoned me to follow.

“I have a huge bed, Beth. Come see.”

As I walked into Mara’s boudoir, dark but vibrant tones outlined in gold fabrics illuminated the room. I smelled a hint of sandalwood. Photographs of women loving women graced every wall. These pictures were current, not historical. Mara was in only a few pictures. I guess if you produced porn that wasn’t surprising.

“What do you think, Beth?” Mara began to remove the comforter from the bed.

“It’s intriguing and sexy.”

I walked to one wall and studied the pictures. The essence of pleasure captured in the shots astounded me.

“Who is the photographer?”

“I am,” said Mara as she placed the folded comforter on the loveseat.

The attention to the detail inspired. Mara had precisely captured where pleasure resided on the women’s bodies. It impressed me.

“You’re good, Mara.”

“Maybe one day, you’ll allow me to photograph you.”

That would take some courage, but I wouldn’t immediately say no.


When I turned around, I discovered Mara had arranged herself centered on top of indigo-colored sheets of her king bed.

“Join me, Beth.”

My nervous laugh escaped into the room. The first time we were alone, we had had a couple of drinks.  “I’m feeling a little overdressed.”

“Please, get more comfortable. I’d enjoy a show.”

Rafe loved to watch me strip, and I enjoyed teasing him while I did it. Would it be different with Mara? I wanted to see how a woman responded to me so maybe this was the place to start. Mara repositioned herself in the pillows. She looked like a sex goddess, and I felt like her servant. I wondered, would she command me? Or tell me exactly what she wanted me to do? Or guide my exploration?

“What do you like, Mara?”

“Show me how you enjoy your skin.”

My silk camisole under my blouse shifted on my skin as if it got the message to begin. As the fabric caressed, my skin always reacted. It was as if someone was tickling me with a feather in just the right places. Moving toward the end of the bed, I felt my thong press into the crack of my ass. It reminded me exactly where I was and that anything could happen.

“Can we have music, Mara?”

“Tell ‘Alexa’ your song choice.”

I would choose a song for me. It had to be sexual and sultry. “‘Alexa’, play Let’s Get It On by Marvin Gaye.”

“I like vintage music, Beth.”

From her position on the bed, Mara pulled her knees up and flashed me her lovely, delicate vulva. She was be-jeweled there, too. Her pierced nipples and vulva made living sexual art.

As the music drifted in, my nimble fingers unfastened the blouse buttons, one by one. My body swayed to the rhythm of the song and Mara’s breathing. As I dropped my top on the floor, I skimmed my hands over the camisole and my breasts.

“I remember how good you feel, Beth.” Her voice was a sexual tool causing me to crave her.

“I want to be able to say that about you, Mara.”

Looping my thumbs in my skirt’s waistband, I dragged the material down my hips and legs. A glimmer of light caught my attention. Casting my eyes in that direction, I saw a reflection of a lusting woman, erect nipples kissed by a camisole with bare ass cheeks divided by purple lace. The vision, the music, and the lyrics pushed me on.

As if I were on center stage, I danced around the room commanding attention. I had Mara’s. She smoldered. Her nipples had darkened, and her vulva lips were full. I crawled onto the bed in front of her, moving in between her legs. I needed a reminder of our connection, so I rubbed my silk covered nipples on her face. Craving skin to skin contact, I lifted my camisole.

“Kiss me.” When her moist lips touched my skin, I relived the few but precious moments we had spent together.

“Thank you for the reminder. I’m ready to explore you, Mara.”

Easing her into the pillows, I kissed each nipple and rolled my tongue around the jewelry. As she watched me taste her, my accelerant was her gaze. We were locked in a mutual give and take. I traced a line down her flat stomach with the tip of my nose. I was an explorer in a new responding land. Her sexy scent beckoned me toward her female heaven.

My fingertips drifted over the skin of her thighs, and I splayed her knees out. Her sigh warmed me. Enjoying this close-up view of her vulva, I stroked her bare glistening skin with one finger, up and down, reveling in the wetness created. When I glanced up, Mara’s expectant nod reassured. I leaned down, trusting my lips and tongue and placed my first kiss on a woman’s sex. An exquisite moan erupted in the room.

Up next, When Male Bodies Meet.


Writing for Masturbation Monday. Click on the pic for more smutty stories.

Sep 11

Creativity Sat in the Middle of Hurricane Irma

For two years, much of my life has lived in U-Haul boxes. The month before last, I moved into my new house, and I began to unbox. When I evacuated for Matthew last year, I couldn’t see the things that were in all those boxes, plus I had no idea where anything was located. This time as Irma came raging through, my belongings had new places in my home. Many items were out of the boxes, but not all. I stood looking at my possessions attempting to decide what I would carry with me in my Prius. So, what did I choose?

1-My computer. It is a Lenovo Yoga, a birthday gift and only two weeks old. It is my lifeline for my writing and has everything I need for doing that. It is also the newest lightest computer I’ve ever had. I’m beginning to fall in love with it.

2-My knitting tools and two current projects. These knitting tools are items that I have collected since 1982. The projects, socks for the men I love. Sentimental value aside, they are the things that assisted me in creating many creations for myself, family, and friends.

3-My most favorite pieces of jewelry, handmade. But the most cherished jewelry was a new piece that my friends Mischa Eliot and Oleander Plume also have. It’s not really what it is but what it means. Little, colorful tie-dyed bands have been my rock, my connection to my life outside the island. A source of strength, comfort, and love. I carried them with me.

I looked at these three groupings and realized that I value creativity. My tools of creation and tools of inspiration resonant with me. Those things represent movement and life force energy.

My heart traveled with me. That man is a rock, and we now have had another life adventure. It doesn’t get better than that.

Thoughts did turn to what I left behind. I couldn’t reach my picture albums, so they stayed. When I get home, I’ll find the wedding and baby albums, place them in safety go-bags, and store them in a place to be ready to leave for the next evacuation.

In preparation of losing the house and home I just created, I said goodbye. We were just settling into it and enjoyed the idea of the future fun we would have there. I hunted for a silver lining in this scenario. If the house goes away, I’ll get to tweak the floor plan design.

As I typed this sentence, I received a text from a neighbor who said my house looks good. We shall see. My shoulders dropped.

Maybe the crisp and vivid rainbow on the way to evacuation point two was a good omen. Maybe the good thoughts and wishes of family and friends helped the process. Maybe the kindness of my friends who offered to take us in sealed a good deal. Either way, I am on the other side of Hurricane Irma ready to see what the next adventure will be.

Thank you to all who reached out to me. Your kind words and thoughts uplifted a weary soul.

My heart goes out to all those not as fortunate as I am. I will be looking for ways I can help to ease their pain and suffering.


So far there are four great erotic storylines born from this event!

Sep 05

Be Jeweled

This is the sixth episode of Beth, Mara, and Rafe. This serial that begins with When the Sheets Talk.

I cherished the words that Mara had left me in the note.

I can’t get enough of you. You radiate sex and then embody it. Divine. I enjoyed sharing you with Rafe. Let’s you and I get together Saturday-Noon at my place. I have an idea I want to share with you.

When I arrived at Mara’s door, her jazz music filled the hallway. I was poised to knock on the door, but it opened. An exotic looking woman with a light cinnamon scent smiled. Her olive skin had a sheen and looked so soft. She wore a sheer sleeveless blouse that did nothing to conceal those beautiful areolas and nipples encased in jewels.

“Hello. Mara is waiting for you inside. Go on in, Beth.”

“Thank you. You know me.”

“Only that you are the lunch guest. I’m Celeste.” She extended her hand, and I shook it. The touch confirmed my thought. Maybe I had never touched skin this soft or receptive. “Of the Tops and Bottoms Club.”

“Sorry. I’m not familiar with that.”

“No worries. Enjoy your lunch. I hope we meet again.”

Stepping by me, she exited down the hall. In amazement, I turned to watch her walk away. Celeste captivated me. Her sensuous body movements and the light fabric she wore left little to the imagination of her female form. It surprised me that I wanted to see more. I shook my head and moved back to the door to find Mara was staring at me. An embarrassed heat flushed through me and settled on the tops of my ears. That feeling vanished as Mara took my face in her hands and kissed me. The kiss lingered, like an old friend reacquainting itself to me. It was a conversation. Mara’s lips invited me in, and my tongue replied hello.

“Mmmm. Just as good as last week, maybe better.”

Mara’s kiss had sent the message, “Take me, I’m yours.”

“I agree better,” I said.

“Come inside. You met Celeste?”

“I did, yes.”

Mara’s living room transported me to another time and place. Was I having an outer body experience? Déjà vu? Past life? It seemed I had landed in an art gallery of the erotic. The room was modern in furniture, but the decorations and art celebrated women, in all their historic glory. Paintings, drawings, sculpture. It intrigued me. Everywhere I looked women were loving women in various positions and locations, throughout time.

“I didn’t expect you to be so open with your sexuality here.” I must have sounded like an ignorant student.

“Here and in other places. Sexuality is an integral part of my life, personally and professionally.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised.

I had met Mara at a local film festival focusing on strong women characters. Mara was in the business, but when we met, I didn’t know that. In the theatre, we struck up a conversation over the heroine in the movie and continued the talk over coffee. Mara shared that she produced porn. The event and conversation felt surreal. Sort of like now.

“Come sit. I made us lunch.”

Serving dishes filled with colorful finger foods graced the coffee table.

“This looks lovely. Thank you and thanks for your note.” I sat on the sofa remembering our threesome, sexy and delightful. I smiled. “Rafe is so happy about our sexual exploration.”

“That’s the theme of my life, and I wanted to share that with you. Hence the invitation.”

“What are you sharing?”

“Celeste and I own the Tops and Bottoms Club. It’s an exclusive and private location for women to explore their feminine desires together.”

“Like we have done, with and without Rafe.”

“Yes, but I believe that you are one of those people who would respond favorably to a significant amount of sexual stimulation.”

“I did get off being with the two of you.”

“Imagine that while being in a room full of people, allowing for viewing and exploration.”

An immediate throb registered between my legs. More.

“But all the people are women.”

My mind reeled as the image of Celeste’s adorned nipples popped in. As I looked around the room, I appreciated the exciting ways that seductive clothing, jewelry, and body paints embellished women. All of it turned me on.

“What are you thinking about, Beth?”

I chuckled. “Jewelry. Does Celeste have her nipples pierced or was she wearing pasties or something?”

“She has pierced nipples and be-jewels them if you will.”

“Do you have pierced nipples, Mara?

“I do, but I chose not to wear any jewelry when we were together.”

I nodded my head and observed the food.

“Would you like to see?”

With that invitation, my hands got sweaty which signals I am anxious or excited. At this moment, I wasn’t sure which feeling was the culprit.

I uttered, “Yes,” before I even thought about it.

“Have some food. I’ll be right back.”

The fruit platter was amazing, and when I looked at it further, I was stunned. The fruit was arranged to form a woman’s body. All the food was femininely erotic. I zeroed in on the nipples of the fruit arrangement-two raspberries. I picked up one and popped it in my mouth. Pressing the ripe morsel between the roof of my mouth and my tongue, I rubbed the tender texture until the flavor burst forth. The sensation caused me ache in my pelvis, and I wanted to feel Mara’s nipple on my tongue again.

As she strolled back in the room, I shifted my body in her direction. To my amazement, she approached me topless, with a sarong tied around her hips. Her plump breasts had erect nipples that looked like the raspberries. She carried a large jewelry box and placed it on her lap when she sat down beside me.

“I thought you might enjoy choosing the jewelry and putting it on me.”

Staring at the body part ready to be adorned, I nodded yes. Mara opened the box lid.

“Choose whatever strikes your fancy. Embellish me.”

In some ways, it seemed that I was playing erotic dress-up for naughty grown-up women. It was hot. I searched the compartments. Something dainty and shiny caught my eye. It was a silver bar with an unusual dangling charm attached. I toyed with it between my fingers. I wondered what the emblem meant.

“That was my first jewelry piece when I got pierced. I felt empowered wearing it.  Feel free to slide in through my nipple.”

I unscrewed the ball at the end of the bar. I knew nothing about nipple piercings, except that I seemed to be in love with them. I hoped it would be similar to inserting earrings into my earlobe hole. I glanced up and looked at Mara for reassurance.

“Do whatever you like, Beth. It’s about exploring.”

I couldn’t resist any longer. I leaned over and sucked Mara’s erect nipple into my mouth. The raspberry essence re-emerged as I rolled my tongue around Mara’s flesh. When my teeth and tongue settled onto the nipple, she moaned. I took her breast in my hand and kneaded it. She moved closer to me on the sofa. I wondered what her nub would taste like with metal affixed. Ready to find out, I sat up and studied it to locate the holes. It felt so intimate and sexy. With the bar between the fingers of one hand, I held her nipple with the other. I slipped the bar through the hole; then I screwed the ball onto the end. I traced my fingers around the areola and touched the dangle.

“This is beautiful, Mara. Like you.”

“Sometimes I think when adorning our sexual parts to our liking, positive sexual energy is released.”

The idea intrigued me. How might that feel to me? I had always considered piercing my nipples but lacked real inclination. I admired the beauty of Mara’s nipples. Maybe the time had come.

“Go ahead, Beth. Taste what you have released as you imagine describing it to Rafe.”

And just like that sexual desire consumed me.

What tasting occurred? Read Exploring a Sex Goddess.

Writing today for Masturbation Monday. Check out the other hot stories.

Aug 31

Making A Threesome Come True

This is a serial. If you would like to start at the beginning read: When the Sheets Talk.

I sat up, moving to my hands and knees and faced Rafe’s crotch. My fingers fumbled with the buttons on his pants, probably because Mara had flipped my skirt up and begun tugging my panties down. My body felt electric.

Since Rafe was all about watching, I considered this scene from his perspective.

Mara and Rafe sat on opposite ends of the couch. I was kneeling over him with my ass in her face. Rafe had the unobstructed view across my back to see everything Mara did. When he realized I had stopped my unbuttoning efforts, he looked at me.

“Baby, this scene is scorching hot.”

I massaged his cock through his pants and grinned. “Can you get any harder, Rafe?”

“I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out.” He kissed my forehead.

“What do you think, Mara?” I heard the anticipation in his voice.

Rafe was nearly drooling, and I watched his eyes bug out as I felt the sting of Mara’s smack on my butt cheek.

“Oh, baby. Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

“This lovely ass gives a full moon a run for its money,” said Mara.

She leaned over and nipped me and then dragged her teeth across my tender skin. Rafe squirmed in his spot.

After soaking up his response and savoring the lovely tingling handprint on my butt, I wondered if I would make it through the intensity of this.

“It’s too hot, you two. I have to get these clothes off me.”

I stood up and pulled my shirt and bra off. After I shimmied out of my skirt and panties, I pushed them down my legs. Rafe stripped faster than me.

“Why don’t you sit on this end of the couch, Rafe. I want Beth to be comfortable. She can bend over the arm of the couch and be in the perfect position to suck you off. It will be the ideal height for me to kneel on the floor.

Yes. And do naughty things to me.

A chill ran through me as if a director of a movie just gave me my part. I was excited. Did actors and porn stars feel this way? I’d have to ask Mara later.

Rafe settled onto the cushions in all his naked and aroused glory. I walked around and bent over the arm of the couch. As I worked to get the angle of my position just so, Rafe gathered my hair in his hand and kissed my ear.

“You’ve never been more enticing to me than you are at this moment.”

“I can’t believe you supported me in being with this amazing woman.”

“I love you, Beth.”

Mara’s warm lips and tongue settled on me at the inside of my thigh, where my thigh and butt meet. Her hair tickled my skin. I inhaled and trembled. Warmth spread through me.

“We’re going to be so good, Rafe.”

I wrapped my hands around his cock and stroked up and down. He was massive, steel cloaked in velvet. This event stirred us up—our bodies, our desires, our connections.

As Mara’s lips moved closer to my sex, her talented hands kneaded my ass.  When she pulled my cheeks apart, my body read it like a signal. I went down on Rafe, consuming his erection and he rose to meet me. He tasted divine.

I had always relished giving him head, but today was special. It was as if both Mara and I were blowing him. Every nibble, touch, or little suck that she planted on me rolled through my body and came out my mouth on him. It may have been more than Rafe anticipated. He moaned and danced in his seat. I heard his head tossing to and fro. I imagined he was consumed with looking and figuring out how to see it all. He remained connected to me, caressed my back mimicking my strokes on him. We must have been a sight, a fleshy, sexy machine, each of us a cog in our erotic system.

Rafe leaned sideways over my back and let his hand ride me like a roller coaster. He dipped between my shoulder blades down the curve of my spine and up my cheek. He ended his journey by exploring the crack of my ass.

“Yeah, Mara, that’s real good,” said Rafe.

His encouragement added heart to the mix, and it bound me to him.

Mara’s mouth and fingers were treating me right. Can a woman know better than a man how to please a woman? As that question sailed through my mind, I realized my body had an answer. I was dripping wet. The slurping sounds echoed through the room, Mara on me, and me on Rafe. We rocked together, and when her tongue drifted closer to my back door, I knew my orgasm was close. I could feel Rafe’s stomach tensing which always let me know he was about to come.

I tasted his salty spurt just as my orgasm started. Rafe moaned and crunched forward running his palm once again down the length of my back. Mara’s fingers were everywhere, driving me crazy. As if I had given directions, Mara shoved fingers inside me as Rafe plunged his into my crack and slid one finger into my slobbery, lubricated ass. Full, hot and exploding, I bobbed and groaned as the three of us made our orgasms happen.

When Rafe’s cock went soft, I dropped my cheek to his thigh, but Mara pushed me for more. She continued licking me while rubbing my G-spot as Rafe held me in place, wiggling his finger in my ass.

These sexy sensations overwhelmed me, and I gripped Rafe’s thighs tightly.

“You’re okay, baby. I got you. Go again. Ride it, for you.”

His encouragement was what I needed. I let it all go. The scream that emerged from my lips signified the best orgasm of my life.

The rest was a haze. I don’t know how long I laid with my face in Rafe’s lap, inhaling our funky sex scent. It was like a drug, and I must have fallen asleep.

When I woke up, Rafe was sitting on the floor, and I was on the couch. My head rested on his shoulder. Mara was gone.

“We wore you out.”

“Yeah, it drained me.”

“Beth, baby that was beyond what I expected.”

I laughed. “Me, too.”  I knew I would want more with each of them, together or apart.

“You want to do it again?”

“I do, Rafe.”

Rafe tipped his head over toward the table.

“Mara left you a note.”

“Ok.” I slid my fingers in his hair, reaffirming my connection and wondering how I got so lucky.



“I had a dream just now.”

“You did. What was it?”

“We had another threesome.” I held my breath for a second. “I watched you with a man.”

Rafe nodded slowly. “You don’t say.”

What did the note say? Read the next installment. Be Jeweled.

Aug 24

Orfeo’s Ascent: A Modern Opera – Part 2

#FollowFriday I am pleased to share the second part of this historical romance with heat!  Click here for Part One of Orfeo’s Ascent. Be sure to follow L. Devin Verity on Twitter. 

Peter edged closer. “Anwen? Where did he go? Are you all right? What’s —?” The softness of fingertips hushed his lips, tugged him closer to the shadows.

“I paid him. He’s gone now.” Her fingers slid down, tracing Peter’s lapels. “The thing is… I’m feeling very much like our poor heroine.”

His heart clenched, his voice weak. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

She stood before him, her dress illuminating her figure in the most angelic and mesmerizing way. His breath caught.

The stage lights flickered behind them through the wall seams, prevailed upon the audience in the distance. Peter’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, glimpsed beyond his wife for a moment, recognizing the place as an unused, side-slated trap door beneath the main stage.

She grasped his shoulders and pushed him against the near wall.

“My lady, I’m not sure I understand your will,” he whispered, shame creeping into his countenance.

“If you don’t understand me by now, my lord, then I don’t think there’s much hope in continuing our courtship.” The delicate brow of hers cocked.

The viscount held himself perfectly still, assessing the lady’s intent. “You’re my wife.”

“Show me that is true, my lord. Please. Come for me.” She leaned toward him, standing on tip-toe to press her lips to his freshly-shaven cheek. Her mouth lingered, her hot exhalation at his ear.

The double-meaning of her phrase, the allusion to the scenes performed above, was not lost on him. His initial fears returned, his eyes closing to keep her out, to reject and protect her — even now.

“Mmm. Show me, darling.”

The sound of satisfaction evoked a shiver from him as her hands drifted lower, reaching beneath his coat to his trousers, the back and then the front.

His reaction left her without doubt, the answer of his affection evident. Her eyes flickered up to his, still closed.

“Peter?” Her voice broke.

The blue of his eyes finally shone down on her into the shadows, his breaths halting, frightened now at the revelation. “I don’t want you to see me. I’m not that man anymore, not the one you loved.”

Anwen’s eyes glistened. In reply, she left one hand to stroke his trousers and the other to deftly touch his cheek, trace his lips, before she kissed him. Gentle, pressing until he finally surrendered his lips to her, parting them eagerly, thirsting for depths of her, their tongues fervently tasting.

Peter paused, groaned, stepped back for a moment, his breathing erratic and alive. Paralyzed now by the notion of her so close, alarmed at the way her breasts pushed so beautifully from the cut of her dress — so wanton and ladylike at the same time and so very much in need of him. Could she?

She closed the distance between them swiftly, tenderly undoing his tie, his waistcoat, his shirt, as he continued to witness this miraculous act. All the while, she whispered, commanded, doted on his insecurities as his flesh revealed the wounds of war. In the darkness of the remote space of theatre, she undid him: one touch at a time across the map of his chest, the ridges and puckers of scars, and kissed him at each intersection of marred and smooth skin he thought too ugly for her to witness.

After she cleansed his shame, she gazed into his eyes and, silently, kissed him again. The breath of life restored, he fully returned her kisses, moaned in return with each rush of taste and tongue. His hands explored, traced her neck and jaw, the line of her throat where the dress dipped low to her breasts. She ached for him, hesitated for mere seconds to work free of the garment. Standing before him, his own body bare from his waist up, she now slipped off her shoes, gown, chemise, and revealed the most tantalizing detail: no knickers. He gasped. She grinned. She placed his hand on her breast, moving it gently as if reminding him of how she felt, how she moved in rhythm with her hips encouraging him with the press of her bare body against his wool trousers.

“You didn’t wear knickers,” he stammered.

“I’m quite well aware, my lord.” The innocent, coquettish nature thrilled him. “Touch me?”


The swell of music above. The hitch in his breathing as he reached, her legs parted for him and he cupped her with his palm, slipped one finger and then two between her legs, her hot center so wet he groaned. The moisture on his fingers he used to rub her, to remember what it was to arouse her to this state — her hair falling loosely from the tightness of the clips, her head tilted, her cheeks flushed.

“Mmm. Yes, Pet — darling — ” Her legs weakened with the stroking, the combined rub of his finger and then the come hither deep within, bringing her closer to bury her head in his shoulder, her fingers clutching his hair as she cried out against him.

The softness of the beckoning strings gave way to the tender plea of Act 3. Peter knelt before his nude wife, urged her to part for him once more, held her hips, felt her fingers in his hair again, pulling him to her for more, for supplication and need at once as his tongue and lips sucked and swirled, left her hips moving against him to chase the pleasure again. Her wetness only making him harder. Unable to stand the climb alone, she pushed at him, forced him to stand and relinquish his trousers. A quick glance into the surrounding darkness, Anwen took his face in her hands again, focusing his concentration fully on her with a powerful kiss and moan. The two knelt again, her hands grasping for his hips now, wanting him inside of her so badly that her own hips rubbed against him incessantly.

“Please — ” she said, reaching for him, gripping his shoulders, pulling him down to her.

He couldn’t keep up and nearly lost his balance. She spread her legs wide for him, still urging her hips upward toward him, the throbbing between her legs causing her to whimper for him.

The burst of tympani and soaring strings reverberated as triumph reigned on the stage above and Peter entered her, filling her so deeply that both cried out at the relief of the solitary ache so long uneased. He moved inside of her, slowly, savoring her at first, pausing to allow his fingers to elicit that exquisite sound of her moan once more as he sensitively circled her clit. Unable to stand the delay in completion, longing to reach the precipice, she pushed at him until he shifted, allowed her on top and merely watched her fingers trace and knead his chest as she rushed to the exquisite heights, her cries drowned out by the climactic victory of love aloft. His pleasure in seeing her come seared, brought tears to his eyes and a hot rush of his own surrender to her.

As the final sweep of the orchestra quieted, the heroine retrieved from the underworld, and the hero forgiven his passionate mistake — the couple came together below in a raw and desperate reunion. The crowd’s applause above thundered around them. The bows taken on the stage, the viscount and his wife finally parted in satiated bliss, more than five years in the making.

Peter swallowed, still trying to catch his breath after his performance. Anwen’s eyes floated over him, lingering as he fought with pulling his trousers up again. She lazily reached for his shirttail, tucked it in slowly, pulling him to her inadvertently as she went, and tidying the clasp. She finished and looked up at him. There was a difference in his demeanor now, a slight smile threatened at his lips. No words came. Somehow, each knew, as in their past life long ago, their love endured. He watched as she donned and smoothed her dress, hid the sweet indiscretion of their actions with her attention to detail, and then he took her hand to lead her out of the blissful underworld. Peter held his lover’s hand, his wife curious to see if he might lose the eternal battle for her soul, as the hero overhead had, as they wound their way out of the darkness and into the light of the theatre’s exiting attendees. Fingers interlocked with hers, the gentleman didn’t dare glance back towards her. Instead, Peter gave a gentle squeeze to her hand, made certain she remained with him, and, in his mind, imagined the possibilities of the reclaimed life that lay ahead.

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