Our David

By Mathilde Madden and Kristina Lloyd of Erotica Cover Watch

This is the story of how we - Kristina Lloyd and Mathilde Madden - met. It might look like a whole bunch of hot pictures of David Beckham, but it really is an origin story.


Um, anyway...

Once upon a time, Lust Bites was in full swing and Mat was doing her regular Coming Attractions Sunday preview of the week's new articles. As usual, she posted a gratuitous hot man pic at the top of the post. She rifled through a favourite set – a set that just happened to be the favourite of her character, Imogen, from her first novel Peep Show - and chose this.

Kristina Lloyd was writing her novella, The Vampire's Heart, for the novella collection also called Lust Bites (confusing we know – pay attention) in which Mat was also appearing with her vampy story, Under Her Skin. Kristina took one look at the pic Mat had posted and realised it was the exact image she'd had in mind when she'd created her lead vampire, Billy.

Clearly the stars had aligned. We bonded over Beckham, discovered we lived round the corner from each other – and the rest is erotica-book-cover crusading history.

These days we write Erotica Cover Watch, a blog designed to highlight the lack of images of men on the covers of erotic books. Every week, we kick off with Man Candy Monday, offering a delicious pic of a sexy guy to illustrate the kind of thing we – as straight women - would like to see featured on smutty books rather than the ubiquitous image of a woman in her skimpies.

We are the two writers who once almost broke Lust Bites (the blog) by trying to post 200 men for the 200th post and today we've done a Massive Man Candy Monday for Lust Bites' last week. And because David Beckham introduced us right here on this very blog, we made him our official mascot on Erotica Cover Watch. And so for your delight (um, and ours), we bring you The Mega Becks Man Candy Monday.

Enjoy!

(Could somebody please mop up Kate Pearce? I think she melted.)

And the great thing about David – he has something for everyone. You want long blond hair? Skinhead? Dirty squaddie? Tweedy gent? Sweat and dirt-smeared boxer? Latter day Jesus Christ? But why am I still talking....?


In fact this set, brilliantly, contained a favourite for Kristina, where David looks like a mean-hearted pimp.


And one for Mat where he looks like an upmarket rent boy.


Apparently he also plays football or something ...

(Keep your eye on the ball.)

Check out more Beckham today on Erotica Cover Watch's Man Candy Monday. And don't forget to comment and tell us which pic is your favourite or even post one yourself - a last bite for Lust Bites.

Gonna miss this place!

Mat and Kristina

On Patrol with Erotica Cover Watch

I’m Kristina Lloyd and I’m a hornymanoholic. My friend, Mathilde Madden, suffers from the same problem.

You wouldn’t believe some of the places we have to hang out to get a fix. It makes us feel weird and freakishly oversexed.

Imagine our plight: another late night of smut writing and we decide to take, um, a break from the words. So we google, say, ‘stud muffin’ or ‘david boreanaz naked’ or ‘army boy gang bang in a warehouse after they have all got in from the mud and are really really angry’.

And where do we end up? Yup, gawping at gay porn.

Many of us have heard the phrase ‘I’m a gay man trapped in a woman’s body’. It’s understandable where the confusion arises but what this assertion actually means is ‘I’m an ordinary woman living in a world which refuses to accept I love sex and frequently have the horn for men.’ Mainstream depictions of sexiness often bypass female desire entirely because they bypass the jaw-dropping, mouth-drying, knee-weakening sexiness of guys. Typically, sexiness equals curves, breasts, hips, lips and knickers. If you’re a straight woman and you want unashamed muscle and some sexiness your way, then you must make like a minority and go to gayland. Why, when women are over half the population? This surely ain’t fair.

It’s much the same in bookshops (although obviously there is a lot less cock) with sexy gay fiction being where it's at. Mathilde and I read and write smut. This gets us hot. But the covers of erotica leave us cold and frustrated. They feature near naked women and are aimed primarily at straight men.

Sure, if you’re a bi woman, you might like the picture too but presumably you’d be equally happy with a gorgeous guy. And it’s odd, isn’t it – suspicious even – that on erotica covers, the only aspects of female bisexuality represented are the ones that heterosexual men get off on quite majorly? How jolly convenient! Because the fact is the preponderance of the female form in erotica isn't an act of generosity towards women who like women, anymore than the plethora of hot-honeys-go-pussy-crazy porn is about lesbian consumer choice. It's just a side effect of what straight men like.


So Mathilde and I have been wondering why there are practically no men on erotica covers. And we realise it’s simple: as everyone knows, if a straight man looks at another man in an arena that could be construed as sexual, his penis falls off dead! And since nobody wants bookstore owners to be continually having to sweep up the penises in the erotica section (it’s bad enough there as it is), they put the hot-hunk covers out of harm’s way, in places where no self-respecting straight man would go ie. in gay fiction and erotic romance.


Erotica and erotic romance are different beasts (though both are making two backs). Erotic romance, as you probably know, is a smutty offshoot of the traditional romance genre. Broadly speaking, the narrative is driven by the development of potentially loving and long term relationship between a him and a her (with occasional twists, extras, spankings and even lashings of lube). Sex, or the hunger for it, is a hot horny part of that burgeoning relationship, and of other hook-ups the protagonist may have before she snags her main man.

In erotica, lust has the upper hand. Love may or may not be present but the story is driven primarily by sexual desire, often kinky, and the quest for its fulfilment. Of course, that doesn’t mean erotica lacks emotion, passion or empathetic characters. Negotiating the journey to sexual completion can be incredibly fraught, joyous, intense, and intellectually and emotionally-involving. Love and lust are both deeply profound and complex subjects.

Remember that old chestnut, ‘Girls use sex to get love; guys use love to get sex’? Sometimes it seems we’re still stuck there: erotic romance prioritises love therefore it’s for women; erotica prioritises lust therefore it’s for men.

The book covers say as much with their images of hot hunks on erotic romance, images of hot babes on erotica. The message seems to be it’s only legit for women to look at a bit of brawn with the safety net of love, sunsets and a happy ever after. Sure, these things are fine. That’s what romance is about. But haven’t we had enough of the notion that women only like sex with hearts, bows and violins? That we can only fuck with one eye on our future prospects? That lust is strictly for the boys and that women can’t go gooey over a beautiful male body sans sunset?

Why are there rarely any men on the covers of erotica? Why does the genre insist on fetishising only the female form?

The question becomes increasingly pressing when you look at the phenomenal growth in the numbers of women writing and consuming erotica. Erotica’s readership has changed hugely in recent years but the covers are still languishing in the past. They appeal directly to men while fobbing women off with the notion that they can identify with the half-dressed object of many a man’s desire. And if you don’t identify, then what? You can fuck off back to romance where you belong? Keep on trespassing on gay porn?

Hey! We’re women, we’re here! We like to look and lust just as much as guys do. And we reckon the objects of our desire ought to be getting a lot more cover space. We want more sexy guys in erotica, more muscles, more couples - more equality, goddammit!

Sure, some women like looking at other women and we’re not knocking that. But how come that's all we’re allowed to look at? What about those of us who are (oh God, the shame) straight? What can we feast our eyes on?

So Mathilde and I are launching our campaign to Banish Inequality on Covers in Erotica, Porn and Smut (BICEPS)! Please check out our brand new blog, Erotica Cover Watch. On Erotica Cover Watch, we’ll be highlighting the problem of erotica’s persistent sexism by bringing you regular doses of cover-snark, rigorous debate, rage, laughter, hope and dirty filthy photos of hot handsome men in teeny tiny pants. We really hope you’ll add your voice.

Head on over there now to have your say. Vote in our big BICEPS poll!

And if you want to beef up your blog, add this gobbledegook to your sidebar:

<p align=center><a href="http://eroticacoverwatch.wordpress.com/"> <img class="aligncenter" src="http://i391.photobucket.com/albums/oo359/biceps_photos/biceps%20branding/Banish.jpg" border="0"></a></p>

and you'll get this lovely link:

It’s easy for us all – readers, writers, editors, publishers, booksellers – to feel as if our hands are tied (cue bondage joke), as if we can’t affect the status quo because its values are too ingrained in our cultural psyche.

But we can change this. Bit by bit we can all have an impact. We can get rid of those weary ideas that erotica services only men, that women are objects to be looked at while those we lust after enjoy the power and privilege of looking. In content, erotica is increasingly wonderful. It’s imaginative, varied, arousing, stylish and daring, and it’s no longer the preserve of The Boys’ Club. It really is time the covers caught up.

Let's Banish Inequality on Covers in Erotica, Porn and Smut!

Moonset

By Mathilde Madden

So, so long ago I started telling you about my Silver Werewolves Trilogy. And now, it all comes to an end. This week, the third and final book The Silver Cage was published in America. I've been though 6 publications dates with these books. (And that's not including my novellas and short stories set in the same universe.)

So I apologise if this seems like one last extract and book cover too many, but bear with me.

In the last part of the trilogy Alfie and Iris are driven apart when Alfie is taken prisoner (along with wayward wolf cub Leon).

They are held in a dungeon by the uber-powerful Divine Wolf and her wicked witch partner Sabrina. At first the two of them are imprisoned together in a Silver Cage - with only one thing to do to pass the time. But the Divine soon puts a stop to that. Leon is taken from the cage and Alfie is handcuffed and left inside.

All Leon can do is watch as Alfie's frustration grows...

Leon was looking at Alfie. He did that a lot. He didn't know how long he'd been locked down here or what was going to happen to him. But looking at his sire helped. It made him feel safe.

Alfie was lying naked on his side. His cuffed wrists pulled up and twisted a little behind his back where the chain was twined around the bars of his cage.

In a rare lucid moment Alfie had wondered aloud why this set up. Why he was still in the cage and Leon outside it in the cellar room. Leon knew why. Firstly and most simply the cage was magical, worked like the collar, held Alfie's form. The reason they weren't both in the cage anymore was obvious - Alfie would thrall Leon into making him orgasm. Leon could see how tormented Alfie was by the constant frustration and teasing. The Divine clearly wanted to drive Alfie mad by not letting him climax. There was no way she'd let him and Leon go back to their earlier ways of comfort through rutting. But it was safe to keep Leon outside the cage while Alfie was locked up, because no matter how many times Alfie told him to run, there was no way Leon was going anywhere.

He didn't hear the door opening, but when a musical lilt of a voice said, 'Well ain't love grand!' Leon knew he would have recognised her anywhere.

'Sabrina,' he said, rolling over.

She was standing in the doorway. She looked just the same as she had the last time he had seen her. Bare delicate feet, long brown legs, a stretchy tight white dress that seemed to make her look more naked. She smiled. Leon's broken heart went heavy and tight in his chest.

The magic Sabrina had used once to temporarily break his thrall to Alfie and make him loyal to her was still there – somewhere inside him - pushing its way to the fore again now he was in a room with her. Looking at her seemed to activate it.

'How are you, Leon?' Sabrina said. She threw a single wary glance at Alfie. Leon didn't get up, he let her approach him and drop into a crouch. She covered his body with hers and kissed him.

All Leon could think about was how Sabrina was so beautiful.

She ran her fingers through his long blond hair, melting away the tangles that had matted their way into it while he had been locked up. Every morning, while The Divine bathed and tormented Alfie, she gave Leon a bowl of water to wash with, but it was barely adequate. However, Sabrina, as she touched him, seemed to cleanse him. The grime and sweat of weeks of captivity seemed to melt away.

Leon let his gaze wander to Alfie, who was watching them from the cage.

Sabrina's hands had come to rest on the fastening of his jeans. She reached down and turned his chin, making him face her again. 'There's something different about you, Leon,' she whispered. 'You used to be blind to anyone but me when we were together. Let me remind you.'

Sabrina bent back over his crotch and popped open his fly, his erection sprung out, but Leon didn't know whether he was hard from Sabrina's petting or in that way he often got from idly gazing at Alfie, naked and frustrated in the cage.

Sabrina leaned closer still and took Leon's cock into her mouth. Down and down into her throat.

'Oh god,' Leon moaned, almost shocked at the raw ridiculous pleasure of it.

Sabrina laughed and those vibrations flowed into his cock and seemed to spiral out through his whole body. The pleasure was intense. Too much. Every hair on his body stood on end. His nipples were pinched taut. Sabrina let her mouth work his cock a few more times then pulled free. She worked it with a tight fist. Then she whispered. 'Stand up, werewolf. See me.'

Leon obeyed her. He got shakily to his feet, his body still buzzing, overcome with almost debilitating arousal.

'Touch it,' Sabrina whispered. 'Touch yourself.'

Leon took his cock in his hand and brought himself to the rising edge of his orgasm, fast and sudden. He stroked again. Nothing. The sensation suddenly gone.

He looked at Sabrina. She smiled.

'Witch,' said Leon, frantically working his cock and suddenly feeling nothing. 'What did you do.'

'Very little, actually. You've been wondering, haven't you? How it feels for him. For your sire. Your heart is breaking for his suffering.'

'No,' said Leon sharply.

'He has your pleasure, Leon?'

'What?' Leon turned his head and looked at Alfie. His eyes were closed or almost closer. He looked peaceful and pleasured.

'Touch it,' Sabrina whispered.

Leon stroked his cock. He felt nothing, but in the cage Alfie moaned and bucked, thrusting his groin into the empty air.

'Just as you wished. I know you've been taunting him, making him watch you. And I also know, that deep down, your only wish was that you could give that pleasure to him.'


'No.' Leon shook his head. 'That's rubbish.'

Sabrina smiled. 'This spell doesn't work like that Leon. I made a magic to give you the sexual experience you most desired. And, it would seem, what you most desire is for your sire to have your pleasure.'

'No, no.' Leon shook his head hard.

'So you don't want him to feel you come?' Sabrina said, getting to her feet.

'I… I…' Leon was shaking his head.

Sabrina moved closer. Leon was backed up against the stone wall. Sabrina's long cool fingers closed around his cock. 'Well?' she whispered. 'The Divine won't know. It won't affect her potion. He won't actually come. Just feel it when you do.' Her fist was tight, moving on Leon's cock.

Leon bucked and gasped, squirming, his back against the wall – but he felt no pleasure from what she was doing. He looked at Alfie. He knew that look on his sire's face – the pleasure was clearly all his.

'If you wanted to enjoy it yourself, you would,' Sabrina whispered, and her voice was harsh and bitter.

Leon moaned and felt himself ejaculate. He looked at Alfie, writhing as Leon came.

After a second Sabrina brought her semen smeared fingers up to Leon's lips and shoved them into his mouth. As he cleaned her up she muttered, 'So, werewolf, who's your daddy?'

Poor Alfie and Leon. Of course Iris is out there somewhere, trying desperately to find her truest love (trying to find Leon? - not really so desperate), but she is having to deal with problems of her own too.

Hop over to my blog for more on that. (And the book winning.)

And my blog is where I'll be from now on as I'm taking a break from Lust Bites. I've had a wonderful time here and I'll miss it like crazy but I know I'm leaving it in the most capable of hands. And of course I'll be popping up in the comments from time to time.

Best wishes

Mat x

More Silver Werewolves on Lust Bites
Silver Werewolves on Amazon.com
Silver Werewolves on Amazon.co.uk
My blog
My website

What? One last gratuitous pic before I go? Oh go on, you've twisted my arm. (Or at least that's why I think it's so sore.)

Bye Bye!
MxM

(P.S. Growl if you love werewolves!)

Wolf Month

By Mathilde Madden

I'll be back on Friday to talk about wolves in depth. But I'm just here today to nudge our American readers in the direction of two werewolfy books released today. Possession - the second Black Lace paranormal novella collection (featuring me, Madelynne Ellis and Anne Tourney) and The Silver Cage - the final book of my werewolf trilogy.

---

PS:

The winner of a copy of L is for Leather is Limecello. Congratulations! E-mail your details to lustbitesladies[at]yahoo[dot]com and we'll send you your prize.

K is for Kinky

By Mathilde Madden

We're on K. And K is for Kinky. I don't know why they asked me to do this write up, I really don't.

Oh yes, it's because I have a story in the book. And I do, along with Lustie Shanna Germain and lots of special kinky Lust Bites pals like Emily Dubberley, Sakia Walker, Donna George Storey and Jeremy Edwards.

Plus the wonderful Alison Tyler herself, who appears in each alphabet book and here excels herself with hot knife action in Blades:

I like the challenge of working when there are people present. Security guards. Overly attentive shop girls. And other customers. Especially, other customers. Those housewives who trundle along after a new paring knife, one with a handle that won’t break off this time, thank you very much. The atrocious newlyweds exchanging a set of butter knives for a fancy blade that will cut through the slimy seaweed skin of homemade sushi.

“We’re making it ourselves,” they gush in saccharine-sweet voices, eyes on each other rather than the prices of the expensive weapons displayed before them.

But my eyes are focused on the razor-sharp edges that can do such damage in the hands of those less experienced, and even more damage in the hands of those who know what they’re doing. I like the high-end knives, often imported from Europe, with black handles made of heavy-duty rubber. Usually, these blades are trapped behind glass. You have to ask for permission to touch.

“That one,” I nod to the helpful pink-cheeked salesgirl. “The small one.”

I get wet as soon as the slick rubber meets the flesh of my palm. My thumb works up the edge slowly, to dance lightly over the ridge of the blade. It’s a tango between steel and flesh, and flesh, I know, will always lose.

My own story is a simple one. Nothing more than a heated conversation between a woman who's not in the mood tonight and a man who's keen for his weekly kinky fix:

He cocked his head and fixed his coyest expression. He lived for Wednesday nights. Work had been hell these last few months and he didn't think he could bear to trudge back into London without some kind of tension release. 'You don't have to do anything,' he said, very gently, 'I'll wait on you. Please.'

'I said "No".'

He swallowed and moved closer to the desk until he was near enough to rest his palms on the top. 'But why? You know you want to.'

She held his gaze. 'Don’t tell me what I want. You are really pushing your luck now.'

'Am I? What are you going to do about that?' He lifted one knee onto the desktop and lowered his gaze, deferent and needy and hard. Ready.

Her expression was unreadable. 'Oh do you take me for some kind of fool? I told you. Now leave.'

'Make me,' he hissed, hoping that this banging heart wasn't audible as he raised his other knee, and gingerly climbed up to kneel on her desk.

She fixed his gaze with flashing eyes as their faces drew level. 'No.'

So there are lots of kinks in the world. You want to tell me yours? Or try and guess mine? (Like that's hard.) One lucky commenter gets a copy of the book.

Mat x

Do You Remember the First Time?

By Mathilde Madden

Black Lace is 15 years old. To celebrate the big wigs at HQ have given us two super dooper goodie bags each containing copies of the two Black Lace novels out this month: a reprint of the first ever Black Lace - Cassandra's Conflict by Fredrica Alleyn and our own Madelynne Ellis's storming Phantasmagoria. Plus numerous other special Black Lace goodies.

What do you have to do to be in with a chance of grabbing the goodies? Simple. Tell me about the first Black Lace book you ever read. And to get you in the mood, I asked a few friends to tell me how they lost their Black Lace virginities.

Let's start with someone who's work is at the forefront of the celebrations. Our own Madelynne Ellis:
"My first brush with Black Lace was back in 1996. I´d been working my way through the local bookstall´s collection of Victorian erotica eg The Pearl, and there were some Black Lace books mixed in amongst it.

The first one I read was Ace of Hearts by Lisette Allen. It´s a Regency set historical featuring rather a lot of fencing and a fight over an inheritance. Its most memorable scene is near the start where the heroine, having come off her horse, is tied to a heavy saddle in the middle of a field by the hero and roughly taken from behind.


I guess it made an impression as I sent off for the Black Lace writing guidelines shortly afterwards.

I´m not going to tell you how many of them I´ve now read. Let just say it´s a lot."

Next up, Anne Tourney:
"There are so many classics I recall, but the two that had the most impact on me creatively -- the novels that opened up a world of possibilities for combining an honest portrayal of sexuality with the exploration of the author's imagination -- were Artistic License, by Vivienne LaFay and Gothic Blue, by Portia Da Costa.

I had been writing erotic short fiction for a few years when I first found the Black Lace series, but it had always been my dream to write erotic novels. Discovering these two books, both written from a thoroughly feminine perspective, with vividly atmospheric settings, compelling plots, and characters I could identify with and care about (oh, and did I forget to mention the hot sex?) was revolutionary to me.

Artistic License is a historical novel about a young woman in Renaissance Italy who poses as a boy so she can fulfill her dream of being an artist.

Gothic Blue, of course, is the erotic classic by our own Portia Da Costa, a story of supernatural machinations in an eerie castle, with a sexual obsession that crosses the boundaries of time. They're both incredible novels which deserve to be in print for years to come."

And here's Teresa Noelle Robert's confession:
"I think the first one I ever read was The Crimson Buccaneer by Cleo Cordell - a historical lavishly laden with flagellation and d/s, which made me forgive some lapses in the history - which I bought at the airport.

I confess I bought it because I was so pleased to see obvious erotica on the shelf, albeit the top shelf where I had to stretch, in an airport bookstore."

When I told Kristina Lloyd (gone but not forgotten) what I was doing - she was keen to add her first time with Odalisque by Fleur Reynolds:
"Odalisque was published in 1994, back when there were only two types of BL books: historicals and posh contemporaries. This is a Posh, steeped in that godawful cold, aspirational, 80s aesthetic. It’s all glamour, wealth, chauffeurs and unpleasant, bossy women. This was so removed from my life I could’ve been reading about aliens.

However, chapter 2 is a wild, gratuitous, 20-page long, MFM and for that I adore it. As far as I can remember, two of the characters don't even appear in the book again but who cares? The scene feels like it’s about to burst out of the pages and reading it felt like hearing from a woman who’d finally been allowed to speak. And she was saying stuff like: ‘If you lie on the desk,’ said Kit to Gerry, ‘this dirty bitch can suck your cock while I’m screwing her arse.’

Fabulous!"

God, Kristina's really changed, hasn't she?

One person we can always rely on for an opinion at Lust Bites is Janine Ashbless. I had to ask her how she popped her BL cherry:
"My first Black Lace was Avalon Nights by Sophie Danson (which was actually originally published by Nexus, as Knights of Pleasure). It was given to me by my friend Chris and it's not an exaggeration to say that it changed my life.

It's a collection of tales told by various Knights of the Round Table, strung together (just about) by a story-arc. Each individual knight has their own kink so there are stories themed around male dom, femdom, lesbianism, big dick romps, BDSM etc - and a very naughty bit involving a horse. I thought it was great - and it inspired me to write down my own fantasy stories and submit them as Cruel Enchantment. And so Janine Ashbless was born...

I've still got the book. It has one of those classy old sepia-tinted covers that I still think are the best Black Lace ever did. And the very first line is "It was a stormy night." Which, frankly, requires balls of brass to get away with!"

And for some final recommendations from the early days, I tracked down AWOL Lustie, Alison Tyler:
"15 years. It’s a long time. It’s as long as I’ve been professionally writing porn. Which is why I can’t remember what my first Black Lace book was. I mean, I have read so many of them, dog-eared the pages, rumpled the covers, dropped them into the bubble bath. But thinking back, my virgin Virgin title was probably Kerri Sharp’s collection of women’s fantasies, which I remember adoring and passing onto a friend, and then having to buy again.

Much better, I remember my last Black Lace read—Mathilde Madden’s intense and amazing The Silver Collar—which I also adored and lent to a friend and had to buy again.

You’d think after 15 years, I would have learned something, if only this: never lend your favorite porn. Happy Birthday, Black Lace!"

Ah, you wouldn't believe how much it cost me to get her to say that. Our much-missed trollop might look cheap, but she drives a hard bargain.

So tell me about your first time. How was it?

Mat x

Coming Attractions

By Mathilde Madden

This week decadence rules on Lust Bites.

First up Portia da Costa welcomes us to The Retreat. What goes on at The Retreat? Well it's PDC, so I'll take a guess at something sumptuous and kinky.

Then Dayle A Dermatis and Teresa Noelle Roberts return with the second part of their inter-galactic journey into future hotness where they take a peek at hot futuristic women.

Does Lee Adama count?

But don't put your time machine away because on Friday Madelynne Ellis escorts us into the past. If you got a taste for hot historicals last Friday, you need to read this post. It's time for the gothic menage, Phantasmagoria.

So lie back, relax, and get ready for a wholly depraved week of Lust Bites.

Mat x

Flash and Win - Winners

By Mathilde Madden

Anyone who read through the entries for Flash and Win - our Valentine's Day Competition - will know what I'm about to say: the standard was incredibly high. Oh yes. There were cat fights and hair pulling like you would not believe backstage when it came to selecting a winner.

So, in the end, I had to ask a naked Brendan Fraser winged messenger to select the winners. And he was happy to oblige. And after that he picked out the winners...

Ah, the tough life of an erotica author blogger

So thanks to Brendan, and in traditional reverse order, third prize goes to:

Leatherdykeuk: Big and Little
There’s frost on the grass but that doesn’t stop you from pushing me
over and jumping on top of me, knocking the wind from my lungs. You’ve
got a huge weight advantage – sixty pounds or more – and you grasp my
wrists, spreading my arms wide. You forgot my legs, asshole. One foot
curls around yours as the other snakes up and over your head. It’s a
simple matter to flip you from there. I dump you on your fat ass and put
you into an arm lock while my other hand fumbles with your zipper. Who’s
the daddy now, fuckface?

Second prize goes to:

Mina Murray: Body Shots
Ritual candles cast a strobing glow on the black granite bench.
You smell like sex and danger.
We wrestle in the half-light, a mass of angry limbs. Taste of tequila
and lime on your tongue. I rub salt into your wounds. You stiffen inside
me: pain sharpens your desire.
Your hands tangle in my hair. Go on, I urge, pull tight.
You bite my throat, exposed to you, proffered.
There'll be a mark tomorrow, and I wish, all of a sudden, for a
fine-tipped pen to scrawl on you, indelibly, the words for what you do
to me.

And our winner:

Busaikko: Homecoming
Last night I fingered myself deep, conjuring your scent and the ghost of
your weight on my skin. Last night I rolled my nipples rough between
thumb and forefinger, remembering your callused hands. Last night's
orgasm was neatly orchestrated, swept into a towel and gone.
Tonight your mouth tastes like peaches, and I can smell the sun in your
hair. You open me and fill me, bite already aching nipples, take me over
the sofa and against the wall. We break the bed again and paint our
bodies with come and spit, and you fall asleep still inside me, home.

Please email us at lustbitesladies [at] yahoo [dot] com to arrange the posting of your prizes.

Huge congratulations to the winners and our sincerest thanks to everyone who entered. It was one of our most successful and fun competitions.

Do you agree with my Brendan's choices. If not, which was your favourite? You could always ask your favourite naked celebrity for his opinion... why should I have all the fun?

Mat x

PS: Stay tuned tomorrow for hot historicals!

Flash and Win!

By Mathilde Madden

Tomorrow is Valentines Day and you know who we love? You, our wonderful readers. Oh yes we do, we love every single one of you. Without you, this blog would be rather like us just sitting in a room talking to people who don't exist. And, you know, we kind of have this whole day job where that happens...

(Although, I would like to point out, that Alfie the werewolf definitely does exist.)

So we love you, right. And we're expressing our love the best way we know how, 'cause we are living in a material world and so why don't you let us shower you with gifts...

And how about this for a shower to remember?

Damn, sorry, clicked the wrong button. Unforgivable, I know... I'll have him out of your way just as soon as I find the right... uh, here we go. So if you could just scroll down a little...

I said SCROLL DOWN

Come on, you can scroll quicker than that.

No, your computer is not 'frozen'. Don't you start with Windows Vista this, Windows Vista that. Scroll down!

Thank you. Now. I meant this shower here

Pretty impressive huh? Here's how it breaks down:

FIRST PRIZE
Divine Torment by Janine Ashbless
Suite Seventeen by Portia da Costa
Barbarian Prize by Deanna Ashford
Wild Card by Madeline Moore
The Silver Collar by Mathilde Madden
The Silver Crown by Mathilde Madden
The Silver Cage by Mathilde Madden
Where Have All the Cowboys Gone? by Kate Pearce
Possession by Mathilde Madden, Madelynne Ellis and Anne Tourney
Standish by Erastes (not pictured)
Lying in Mid Air by Anne Tourney (not pictured)
Plus Quickies (Black Lace mini short story collections), bookmarks and anything else I find lying around

SECOND PRIZE
Possession, The Silver Werewolves Trilogy and Gothic Blue plus extras

THIRD PRIZE
Possession, The Silver Collar and Gothic Blue plus extras

Now, size queens, if you like the idea of something that big being pushed through your letter box, here’s the deal. We love you and all, but we want to be sure you love us back. We want some sugar from you in return

We will be awarding these three fabulous prizes to the three best pieces of flash fiction left in the comments.

So tell us a story in sexy story in 100 words or less. If you’re not a writer – or just not in the mood to write (although we really encourage everyone to have a go – we’ll be kind) feel free to also comment and tell us what you think of the posted stories.

First time commenters welcome - delurking encouraged.
Lusties in disguise tolerated - flash, but, no, you can't win
Ex-lusties, yes, you are eligible: flash us.

And to get you in the mood, here some flashes of inspiration the last time we indulged our love of short-shorts

And good luck!

Mat x

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The gorgeous multi-coloured heart image is shamelessly stolen from last year's Valentine's comp (lines now closed) - because I love it. It's Toxic Schizophrenia by Tim Noble and Sue Webster. And the heart right up top is Hanging Heart by Jeff Koons

Coming Attractions

By Mathilde Madden

You never really leave Lust Bites. Well, actually you do. And some wonderful writing talents have come and gone on this blog. Most recently the wonderful Alison Tyler and the incredible Kristina Lloyd.

Both of whom feature, alongside the still current Dayle A Dermatis and Shanna Germain, in The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica. Dayle will be offering a peek between the covers on Monday.

Wednesday is competition time - but with a twist. Yet again we are offering a slew of erotic novels and to win them you need to respond with some erotic fictioning of your own. Tune in then for more details.

On Friday I interview our brand new member Erastes. I haven't told her yet about the part where you never leave.

Mat x

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Talking of competitions: a copy of A Gentlemen's Wager goes to Caffey
Copies of Possession go to angell, sacchi green and Lucy Felthouse

Send your details to Lustbitesladies [at] yahoo [dot] com

Possession: The Silver Chains

By Mathilde Madden
I really didn’t have time to write a novella for Possession. I had these three other books to write at the time. But the chance to tell even more stories about my werewolf pack was too good to pass up.

And there was one bit of backstory I didn’t quite know where to put in the trilogy.

All the Silver Werewolf novels take place in the UK, but in the first book the hero Alfie has some magical silver chains that he uses so he can have sex without transforming into a wolf and killing his partner. I wanted to explain exactly how he had acquired them.


Hera leaned up over him and pulled down the chains. One cuff already attached to each of the bed posts. She smiled at Alfie as she lifted his right wrist and began to fix it down. 'It's very easy to adjust the spell on them. Just a little elementary magical skill really.' And in the time it took her to say that, she had both Alfie's wrists secure. Utterly secure.

'So they'll change with me? They won’t come off?' Alfie said. He was so overwhelmed. Need. Desire. Pure and brutal. He was still thrumming with it.

'Not a chance, my beautiful wolf. I will be quite safe no matter how hard you fight. And I even have a spelled muzzle that will twist when you do too. Those fangs won’t be coming out tonight. No matter how much I make you scream for me.'

In response to the realisation that he was going to get to have sex, Alfie had groaned so loud and so long that it was only muffled when Hera suddenly stuffed a thick pad of leather into his mouth and started tightening attached straps all around his head.

The leather felt strangely soft and satisfying in his mouth. He bit at it and it tasted hot and salty and flesh like. Hera, on top of him, leaned down, kiss-close.

'The only problem is you don’t get to kiss me,' she said, her mouth floating above his sealed and stoppered lips.

Alfie moaned as she flicked out her tongue and nudged at the edges of the muzzle. Somehow the frustration of it was more erotic that a real kiss. He moaned and strained.

'One thing about this situation,' said Hera, drawing her head back from the tease, 'is that when you come it's all over. You come. You change. No more fun for me, you see. We need to make you wait a long, long time. I need to be sure that I'll fully satisfied before you are.' She reached back and drew her hand along the length of Alfie's aching, waiting cock. 'We need to make this poor thing wait.'

Alfie moaned yet again and Hera dipped her head and ran her tongue over the leather that sealed Alfie's mouth. Over and over.

Alfie rolled and bucked his hips, but somehow he knew she was going to make him wait a long, long time.

Her fingernails grazed his chest, raised angry red lines, little tiny beads of his blood. She pinched her own nipples to hardness with finger tips slicked with his own desperate wetness, his helpless needy precome.

She licked his nose and pulled his hair and then, from somewhere, produced a beautiful blue-glass dildo. She glanced down at Alfie's straining erection. 'This looks pretty close to your size,' she said as she held it on the base of his belly, jutting right above his real cock.

He gasped and thrust his pelvis making his real cock twitch next to the replacement.

'In some ways,' Hera said, 'the glass is better. Cooler in this heat.'

And she slid herself up and mounted the blue dildo, holding it firm against his abdomen with one hand. Alfie felt her moving on it. His erection was tight up against the groove of her arse. As she moved it teased him, but it wasn't enough to make him come. He was already desperate. He could feel the wolf close but not quite able to break through. He rolled and fought his bonds.

Hera came. Quick and sudden she screamed and pushed her free hand into his hair, falling forwards and ending up thrashing against him with her tits covering his face. He screamed into the gag, wanting nothing more than to be able to flick his tongue over her nipples.

And then she lifted her head, smiled, kissed his hot cheek, dropped the dildo on the floor and slid herself back onto his cock.

An hour of teasing, a year without feeling a woman around his cock, Alfie thought like he would die of pleasure. His cock was in fire. Every nerve screamed with heat and need.

This was going to be no great performance of stamina, just a quick bucking fuck. His hips moved, slammed up into her. Over and over and over and down, into the wolf.

Mat x

And don't forget to comment for another chance to win a copy of Possession

The Silver Cage

By Mathilde Madden

I’m here again because, practically speaking, I have three books out this week. There’s Possession of course, but also on Tuesday Silver Werewolves 2: The Silver Crown came out in the US and today Silver Werewolves 3: The Silver Cage comes out in the UK. The last book - that means, here at least, it is now possible to go out and buy the entire 3 book series in one great wodge!

So I’m celebrating, even though this schedule is crazy. Although nowhere near as crazy as my schedule when I was writing the damn things.

Reading order
Silver Werewolves 1: The Silver Collar
Silver Werewolves 2: The Silver Crown
Silver Werewolves 3: The Silver Cage

And I’m back tomorrow to tell you about my contribution to Possession. Does it involve werewolves? Wait and see…

Mat x