by Portia Da Costa
The inimitable Mrs Giggles - the feared and legendary romance reviewer - has described WILD IN THE COUNTRY as "a pretty amusing - if silly - sex romp"... and do you know, I pretty much agree with her. It's fun and frolicksome and what you might call bawdy. There's a definite flavour of Carry On to this story about a hapless and initially naive heroine who gets herself into one pervy sexual scrape after another and whose underwear falls off with convenient regularity.
Flora Swain comes into a bit of money, and leaves her boring job and her boring boyfriend to 'find herself' creatively in the country. In the village of Marwick Magna she soon discovers that she's fallen into a delightful hotbed of kinky sexcapades where her new neighbours indulge in almost every sensual variation she's ever heard of, and quite a few that she hasn't. Along the way, Flora eagerly samples exhibitionism, voyeurism, lesbianism, a bit of bondage and spanking and all manner of intriguing erotic mindgames... all of which she takes to like a duck to the water of the village duck pond. And because I love romance, she even finds her ever-loving Mr Right in the course of all this debauchery, and ends up heading for a happily, if sexually riotous, ever after...
In the following extract, Flora has received a mysterious and explicit billet doux, and she's discussing it - and speculating about which of the fruity village inhabitants might have sent it - with her hunky next door neighbour Declan McKenna, a noted American artist who has a penchant for sunbathing nude in his back garden...
“Yes,” said Flora, preparing to get up, but feeling distinctly reluctant to abandon the glorious sight of Declan, “I think I’ll go and see her. Show her the letter...”
“That’s great, Flora,” said Declan, darting out to grip her wrist with a big, strong hand, “But before you do go. Will you do me a favour?”
“Yes. Yes, of course...” Flora felt something flutter in her mid-section, and her heart begin to race. When she looked downwards, she saw Declan was now erect...
“Oil my back for me,” he said, his eyes dancing and his mouth totally wicked. He’d seen her ogling his cock, that was obvious.
Releasing her hand he lay down on his front, then gestured towards the bottle of milky lotion. “That’s the stuff... One of Morwenna’s finest concoctions. Complete protection and terrific for the skin.”
Flora picked up the bottle and sniffed it dubiously. The scent was powerful and citrus-like, with elements of flowers and spices. When she poured a little of the mixture onto her fingers, its consistency was thin, but unexpectedly silky. She shuddered. To the touch, it felt extraordinarily like semen, and to look at it there wasn’t much difference either.
“Yeah, I know... It reminds me of that too,” said Declan as if he’d read her mind, “I think Morwenna does it on purpose... Everything she does is provocative, and everything she makes either turns you on, or looks like something to do with sex.”
“You sound as if you know her well,” said Flora, tentatively dribbling a little of the lotion onto Declan’s broad back, then smoothing it in with the pads of her fingers. His skin was fine-textured, but so warm it felt feverish.
“You could say that,” he murmured, chuckling softly.
They’re lovers, thought Flora. The tone of voice gave it away. There was passion beneath the surface, and memories and possessiveness. Her own jealousy was a strong as it was sudden.
“And what about her husband?” she asked crisply, hoping to score a point as she added more lotion, then slicked it over the plains of his shoulders.
“Robert?” Declan settled himself a little on the rug... “You can do my ass, you know... It won’t mean we’re engaged or anything...”
Flora slapped a dollop of the white lotion on the crown of each buttock, and massaged it in with a fair amount of force. When Declan moaned softly, she almost tipped the bottle over, feeling the muscles beneath her fingers flex and tense. “God, that’s good,” he whispered, a shudder ascending the whole length of his back.
“What about Robert Carfax?” insisted Flora, feeling her own body shake, and remembering the words in her letter.
“Robert’s a great guy. A good friend of mine. He’s devoted to Morwenna... But then we all are,” he paused, his thighs stirring and his toes curling on the rug, “You will be too, when you meet her.”
Flora couldn’t think about Morwenna. She couldn’t really think about anything, except the naked male flesh beneath her fingers and the uninhibited reactions of the man she was anointing. Declan was sighing now, quivering and squirming on the blanket, rubbing his crotch against the firm earth beneath him. By now, Flora had coated his skin from his heels to his hairline, but almost dreamily she poured more lotion on his bottom, then began working it in meticulous little circles.
My arsehole... My crease... she thought, remembering the words of the letter and feeling her consciousness drift. She pressed with her thumbs, and made the snug aperture of his anus stretch and pout. Declan scrabbled at the blanket, then twisted it maniacally between his tightly clenched fingers. “Oh my God,” she heard him mutter indistinctly. “Oh God, please, do it, you beautiful girl!”
Do what? Flora asked herself, but even as the thought formed, she knew what he wanted. Clasping hard at one buttock, she slid the thumb of her other hand inside him, the entry made easy by the slipperiness of the lotion.
“Yes!” sobbed Declan, the single word cracking with grateful power. Rotating his hips against the mat, he whimpered with pleasure, and the tiny sounds made Flora’s sex respond to him, the very core of her beating like a pulse.
He was in her power now, this glamorous, talented man whose company had so recently intimidated her. He was a moaning wreck, because she was playing with his bottom. Rocking her thumb, she thought fleetingly of Ian, and how much he’d disapproved of anything like this. He’d been scared, she realised, not man enough to show his abandon. Declan McKenna clearly harboured no such doubts; he could surrender to anything without losing his primal maleness.
Feeling his sphincter clench around her slowly thrusting thumb, Flora wondered if Declan were about to climax. His being pleasured like this was clearly a great joy to him, and he might well need no other stimulation. And he was grinding his cock against the blanket.
Even so, she leant over him, and whispered, “Do you...you want me to touch you?”
She couldn’t quite say exactly what she meant, but Declan understood.
“Oh yes, Flora, yes,” he whispered, then rolled over as she popped her thumb out of him.
Declan’s penis was a wonder. He was bigger than Ian, bigger by far, and not only in length, but girth also. His fat reddened staff pointed skywards in the sunlight, rising from his groin like a shiny living tower.
Flora’s first instinct was to throw her thigh astride him, hitch aside her panties, and just let her wet sex slide down and engulf him. But that was far too much, and far too soon. Good Lord, she hardly knew him! And yet, she’d gone this far now, and made an offer. She poured more lotion on her fingers, then took a hold...
Making a ring of her thumb and forefinger, she encircled him, having to stretch around his fat rosy glans. Delicately, but enjoying herself, she worked his foreskin back and forth, smiling mischievously as his tiny love-eye winked.
“Harder!” cried Declan suddenly, his teeth gritted and his hands once more gouging at the blanket. “Go on, woman, do it!” he commanded, thrusting up his hips as if to urge her with his body.
“All right then,” muttered Flora. Unconsciously, she’d been planning a long, slow rise for him; she’d wanted to show him her skill, what she had of it, and to explore him. But clearly all Declan wanted to do was to come, and come quickly. The bastard! With no further ado, she began to move her fingers jerkily, the action rough as if to punish him for his greed.
Declan, however, seemed enraptured. Rising to her strokes, he pushed himself upwards through her grip, thus intensifying the length and force of each slick pass. Within seconds, he was shouting—some wordless nonsense that Flora barely heard—and his semen was jetting out into the air. Great droplets arced, then fell back down on him, covering his chest and belly like a string of milky jewels.
Flora was dumbstruck. She sat motionless on the rug, watching the white fluid’s pearly, running trails, and feeling Declan subside stickily in her clutching hand.
What on earth have I done? she thought, looking down at her semen smeared fingers, and the softening male flesh still clasped in them. It’s probably only half an hour since I met this bloody man, and I’ve just jerked him off! What the hell’s happened to me? How could I do such an insane thing?
WILD IN THE COUNTRY is available as a maxi length ebook from exciting new British erotic romance imprint Total-E-Bound.
And while you're there, get OBJECT OF DESIRE too, because that's also about people perving their neighbours! :)
Anyway, it's the usual drill vis-a-vis a giveaway... leave a comment here and I'll put into a draw to win a free erotic novel from my backlist. I might even pick two winners!
Portia Da Costa
"Ooerr Missis..." Diva of Black Lace
Footnote: for those who haven't heard of CARRY ON...
The Carry On Films were a long running series of light-hearted and saucy British comedy films that were popular in the '60s and early '70s. They were broad, funny, almost naively smutty sex farces, crammed with innuendo and double entendre and often quite cleverly parodying other movie genres or satirising British institutions like the police, the health service and colonialism. I love 'em!
More information here.
Monday, September 10, 2007
by Portia Da Costa