Friday, August 17, 2007

Spouse-Sharing, Knicker-Wetting, Flying Fucks, and Other Scenes of Amorous Tenderness

by Jeremy Edwards"How do I love you?" a composite character from my stories could hypothetically (and rhetorically) ask another composite character.

I love you letting me talk obsessively about your ass, though the subject bores you: "That's why it's my job, and not yours, to appreciate this ass we speak of." [Any Day of the Week at Oysters and Chocolate & Sex and Satisfaction]

I love you inviting me to masturbate with you, despite the fact that we can never be a couple: "Oh, but it is a compliment . . . . You obviously have no idea how much I love masturbating alone in my bedroom." [If We Were at Clean Sheets]

I love you dressing up as your three best friends, one after the other, because you know I fantasize about fucking each of them: “Last I knew, this was a monogamous relationship.” I looked around from left to right, as though expecting extraneous women to emerge from the pantry or laundry chute. [Any Friend of Hers at The Erotic Woman]

I love you deliberately, sensuously pissing your panties for me: Ah, to hold her hand across the table and watch her features relax as she gave in to her wetness. [Slightly Ajar in F is for Fetish]

Am I a "romantic"? I think I am – though Hallmark hasn't approached me just yet in re. of their Valentine's Day line. (Hmph. I thought "To my lover/Golly gee/It turns me on/To watch you pee" was rather inspired. But I guess "golly gee" is a bit outdated.)

During college, I was in a brief, ambiguous relationship with a woman who was sort of breaking up with her boyfriend – or maybe not so much. (You get the idea, probably a lot faster than I did.) One evening, I showed a lack of interest in something she said along the lines of long-stemmed roses. "Don't you have a romantic bone in your body?" she asked. Leaving aside the question of which bone, when properly stimulated, might be the romantic one, I protested that my university punk-rock ethos was romantic – by which I basically meant idealistic, with extra hormones. She seemed impressed by this (but, then again, the boyfriend was out of town).

Now I'm going to step back even further and, since you insist, tell you the details of my first wet dream. It simulated a chaste encounter with a sexy high school teacher, who was based loosely on a real-life sexy Latin teacher. (Yes, I had the good fortune to learn early on that the world was replete with counterexamples to debunk every unjust stereotype. As an adult, I would be cavorting with librarians long before it became fashionable.) In the dream, the teacher was giving us a tour of "ROMA ANTIQVA". (She wasn't shouting, she was merely conforming to ancient Roman typography.) Just before debuting my virginal seed, I noted that the above phrase sounded sort of like "romantic-a" – decades before Ellora's Cave had their own wet dream and trademarked the term. Other writers may boast of their masturbatory proclivities for wordplay, but I may be the only one who doesn't mean it metaphorically.

And if only I'd thought to mention this piece of personal history when my bones were accused of being 100% unromantic: "It just so happens you're looking at a guy who's had wet dreams over the word 'romantic.'"

I continue to invoke a broad personal definition of what's romantic. As a reader and writer, I find there's a special kind of erotic electricity to be enjoyed in romantic synergy that crystallizes around the mundane, the absurd, the incongruous, the funny, the awkward, the silly, the strangely compulsive, or (last but not least) the ass-in-your-face raunchy.

My enthusiasm for the offbeat romantic doesn't mean that I think modern or even postmodern life has rendered rose-giving and other traditionally "romantic" experiences obsolete (except, perhaps, those that depend on modes of transportation that are no longer extant; it really is hard these days to make love, in either the archaic or contemporary sense of the term, atop a penny-farthing bicycle, and don't think I haven't tried). Nor do I assume that the offbeat romantic is a modern invention. I don't know my Sappho or my Catullus, and it's been a long time since I dipped into your Flaubert or the neighbor's Stendhal . . . but, surely, the entire history of good literature must be full of unique, unpredictable, and surprising romantic images.

However, I'm not here to speculate about the classics; I'm here to excerpt some hot contemporary erotica. So let's all open our textbooks to a scene from Stan Kent's My Finest Hour, one that makes my toes curl with joy. At this point, the narrator has been watching his wife fuck another guy for page after luxurious page:

They're on the shower floor. He's eating Lizzie. With their splayed bodies blocking the drain the water builds up in the shower, but they don't mind. They're like some primeval amphibious creatures writhing in a stream, struggling for the land so they can multiply or die. He has his hands on Lizzie's hips, and he's working her on his face, and she's pressing down on his back with her legs and they're squirming around. Lizzie wedges herself in the corner and sits up facing me. This is the first real eye contact we've enjoyed since she began fucking the sharply-dressed man, and she smiles and blows me a kiss.


Our Kristina Lloyd's Nothing But This is a bizarre, mysterious, enchanted tale of refined sensuality and transcendent eroticism – and, dare I suggest it, of love. My favorite moment in the story is one in which the romantic connection between the characters reveals itself through mutual knowledge and understanding, cutting through the haze of unreality and disorientation that KL has masterfully created:

"Hey, brother," calls Uncle, addressing Tom, "does she like it in her ass? Huh? A big prick in her tiny little asshole?"

Tom's too zonked to reply immediately. He just sprawls there, half-dead, before his head rolls sideways, eyes still closed. When he finally speaks, it sounds as if it's costing him an enormous effort. "Probably," he croaks.

Like Kent, KL evokes an erotically convincing emotional connection between lovers at the very moment that one of them is physically rather connected to someone else.

Anyone for Alison Tyler? As if I need to ask! Other People's Panties, for instance, is a showroom showpiece of kinky romanticism. The structure of the brief story is such that to excerpt it might risk spoiling it – so I'll just link and insist that you scroll down and read it. Now.

Personally, I can't think of anything more romantic than what happens in the AT story you just read. And yet, I'm told, Hallmark still hasn't made an offer on this one.
In Christopher Hart's Drift, two jaded characters are whisked away from a glitteringly sordid reality by an impossible, inexplicable, externalized romantic force that is literally beyond their control:

Her feet too were dangling free in the air, and kicked lightly against mine. We were six inches off the grass, a foot, two feet and rising. We were also drifting dangerously towards the house.

"Um . . . " she said, cautious, English. "Is this . . . ?"

I was cool about it. "Gravity seems to have failed us." I didn't feel cool about it all. This was supposed to be a hollow seduction, nothing more.

Perhaps this externalization is an example of an antiromantic's romanticism that is quintessentially postmodern. Whatever it is, I find the description of the cynical couple's absurd ascent into a magical mingling to be – well – truly uplifting.

Now I look forward to hearing about your favorite offbeat romantic moments. And shameless plugs are encouraged!

Kristina says: Add a comment and you could win this sexy little quartet of books featuring Jeremy's work and some of his hot picks: A is for Amour, F is for Fetish and Caught Looking, all from Alison and Cleis Press, plus Quickies 3 from Black Lace which includes my enchanted tale of – ahem – my story, Nothing But This, reprinted from Sex and Shopping.


Janine Ashbless said...

Idealistic, with extra hormones! That's it! That's the t-shirt I want!

danetteb said...

An offbeat moment for me is when my man has had a little too much to drink, he comes to bed pulls me to him and tells me how much I mean to him and falls asleep once he stops talking.:D

Janine Ashbless said...

Shameless plug as requested: I wrote a romantic story to finish off my collection Cruel Enchantment. It was called White as Any Milk, Black as Any Silk and features these two wizards having a vicious magical shapeshifting duel. The sort where she turns into a flower, he turns into a bumble-bee, she turns into a rock, he turns into a stream bubbling over the rock; you know. They were trying to defeat each other and fuck each other at the same time and it was so romantic because He was totally madly in love with Her but he didn't dare tell her because she'd skin him alive...

Ah. I loved that story.

Romance can heighten and give depth to the thrill of erotica. Divine Torment is basically a romance novel (with added armies and plagues and earthquakes and human sacrifice). When your characters are in it for more than the money-shot, that's when it really resonates. When they're in it for someone other than themselves - WOW! Doesn't have to be vanilla, though, as you point out Jeremy. Hooray for spouse-sharing and knicker-wetting!

Anonymous said...

Great examples and insights, Janine. And if you run across me next time I'm sporting my "Idealistic, with Extra Hormones" tee from college, it's yours. (Yes, I'm the kind of guy who will give a friend the shirt off his back.)

Danetteb, what a sweet ORM*! Thanks for sharing it.

*Offbeat Romantic Moment. Shall we use that acronym from HOI**?

**Here on in.

Megan Kerr said...

For most romantic characters, having knicker-drenching kinky sex in mid-air with all your partner's friends is much easier to confess than - err - not having, um, well, had any in a while. I mean, when I say a while, I mean - quite a while. So to give these characters a safe home, I wrote The Pirate and the Slut.

When I couldn't drag my eyes open in time, I'd wake up to find him shining, fresh and beautiful, shirted and groomed, leaning over me, and a cup of hot tea on the side. When he worked later than me, I was drag-netted from the oceanic depths of sleep by his cool arms wrapping me back into place against him, and by his soft small lips pouring adoration into my ear. We weren't falling out of love - we just weren't awake in the same room often enough to have sex.

For me, the "romantic moments" were in how they shared this very familiar bed...

He opened his arm to make room for me. I bent mine double under my side, snuggled my shoulder into his armpit, and nuzzled my cheek into the soft pillow of muscle on his left breast. My hips pivoted and his legs parted as my left leg hooked between his thighs.

They talk a little in the dark, then she's been lying in silence trying to work something out.
"Got it!" I exclaimed triumphantly.
"Wah!" he yelped, his limbs convulsing as he leapt back into consciousness.

The rest of the story (where our touching little couple become a pirate and a slut) is on my website.

Anonymous said...

I really like Imogen and Christian's realtionship in my novel Peep Show.

Essentially, Imogen spies on gay men having sex. Christian knows and he doesn't really care. When she chats up a guy on a gay dating site (using Christian's photo) she ends up persuading Christian to take the guy out on her behalf. It's like Cyrano de Bergerac - in a way.

Some readers think that the reason Christian is so happy to indulge Imogen is because he is secretly gay. But I think the answer is so much simpler. He just loves her. Her happy is his happy.

Anonymous said...

Her happy is his happy.

That's beautiful, Tilly!

And speaking of "beautiful" . . . Olivia, quelle excerpte!--as, a trip to the dictionary reminds me, they don't say in French (extrait).

Angel said...

I know I haven't been around this week...but I come back to Jeremy's post! What a treat to start my weekend!

Megan Kerr said...

That would be quel extrait, Jeremy... but I'll forgive your French for all those lovely snippets! (Olivia Knight: for all your html & French grammar needs.)
Divine Torment is basically a romance novel (with added armies and plagues and earthquakes and human sacrifice) - please tell me you used this as your cover blurb, Janine... What would a romance be without those ingredients, after all? (she said, opening the little vial containing her Ebola sample and sharpening her ritual slaughter knife)

Anonymous said...

Actually, I knew that "extrait" was masculine (the final "t" does look like a penis, after all). But I was gambling that "excerpte," had it existed, would have been feminine (and therefore capable of multiple orgasms).

Anonymous said...

Hi, Gwen. Thanks! I'm so glad you're back in time to be here.

Anne Tourney said...

I love this topic. I collect moments like these in erotica fiction . . . to me, there's nothing so real, so authentic, or so hot as the strangeness or absurdity that crops up when a couple (or a threesome, foursome, etc.) is deeply connected.

Since shameless plugs are invited, my favorite offbeat moment from one of my own novels is the duct-tape booblift scene from Head-On Heart. The heroine, Amity, is finally about to do the nasty with Daniel, the guitarist she's had a crush on since her teens. When he unpeels her leather bodice, he realizes that she's performed a little do-it-yourself cosmetic surgery to give herself some cleavage:

* * *

When he eased his way down to tease her nipples with his tongue, Amity decided that Daniel was just better. He knew how to approach a pair of breasts, courting the outer edges first, moving in towards the areolae, leaving butterfly kisses around the pink circumference.

Then he pulled the corset open to reveal a few more inches of Amity’s skin, and he froze.

‘What the hell. . . is that duct tape?

‘Oh my god. This is not happening.’ Amity threw her hands over her face. Her cheeks were hot under her palms. Maybe if the burning flesh of her face seared itself to her hands, she’d never have to look Daniel in the eye again.

‘What did you do to yourself, sweetheart? Looks like you broke a few ribs and got patched up at an autobody shop.’

* * *

I call it "stupid romance," but "offbeat romance" is a cooler way to put it.

And because "shameless" seems to be the theme of the morning, can I shamelessly beg to win the prize? Please? I will pee on myself for free erotica!

Thank you, Jeremy, for doing your part to wipe out Hallmarkian romance in the 21st century.

Megan Kerr said...

I knew you were going to say that, Jeremy, and that I would have to concede the point. Pedants unite! I need to work on my Franglais...
and therefore capable of multiple orgasms - can you have an ORM between people who don't know each other so well? I think this is one, from Barely Grasped Pictures:

Each time she came, he said only, “You’re not finished yet,” ... She was half off the bed, almost handstanding on the floor, when his plunging strokes spiralled out of control and he shagged her to the floor, and made her the sort of person who cried uncontrollably on the cold boards of a seaside room while her hungry, insatiable womb filled with his spunk.

Alison Tyler said...

Oooh, lovely post to return home to Jeremy! I am always interested in what other people find romantic. (My own personal experience with receiving two dozen long-stems was horrific. A 17 year old intern at the newspaper I worked at had them delivered to me. I was 18 and dating someone else at the paper, so I thought they were from *him* -- god, I still shudder to think of the fall-out.)

Ah, but romance. The scent of other people's panties. The sound of peeing in the morning. The feeling of being shamelessly plugged by both Jeremy Edwards and Kristina Lloyd.

Life doesn't get much better than that.


P.S. One of the most romantic stories of all time (in my opinion) is Mathilde Madden's "Me, When I'm With You." Read an excerpt here (Oh, god, did I just shamelessly plug MM? Sorry, Mat. Here's a tissue.)

Sommer Marsden said...

What a great post, Jeremy. I'm not suprised, though. You're writing is always so engaging...and romantic. :) I am shocked to find out, though, that Hallmark has not snatched you up. They are clearly insane.
p.s. Why oh why is there no Mindy in this post? So sad...

Anonymous said...

So much offbeat--and soaring--romance! I knew this crowd wouldn't let me down in the shameless plug dept. Keep 'em coming.

Great to see that you've returned, Alison! When people like you go away, the life of this incorrigible blog addict just isn't the same.

Why oh why is there no Mindy in this post? So sad...

The Jeremy story that Sommer is shamelessly and kindly plugging is Mindy's Pheromones. Now I want to see Sommer give us a fave ORM from her own fabulous catalog!

Madeline Moore said...

Wonderful stuff. Jeez Jeremy, you write a great blog. And the comments are equal to the essay. Okay so...ORM in my own work...ORM in MOW...

This is from Wild Card. Ray is shackled to the bed and has been 'forced' to have sex with Lonnie, and then Penny, while the one woman who loves him, Victoria, watches.

'Victoria,' he said. 'Care to climb aboard?'

'I don't mind if I do,' she replied.

She was wet, from watching and from playing with herself, and so was he, wet with the juices of the two women who now cuddled against him, naked and blissfully spent.

It seemed right, that there should be two of them, that they should be naked, that one should have a head of red curls that tumbled over his chest and one should have a heavy gleaming hank of straight black hair that lay across his arm like a pelt. She pulled the clip from her hair and her blond hair fell free. It brushed her shoulders as she approached the bed.

'I wondered if you would,' said Ray. He meant he wondered if she, like the others, would use him. 'So I kept some for you.' His cock was an elegant, glistening pole.

I like that part, where he kindly kept some for Victoria.

Good stuff all around, a great way to end the work week here at Lust Bites. I think a strong, deviant sex scene is like a piece of music, and the moment when the participants cut through the filth to make heart-to-heart contact with a look, a comment, an acknowledgement of their acceptance of each other's kinkiness - is a full stop.

Sommer Marsden said...

*Now I want to see Sommer give us a fave ORM from her own fabulous catalog! *

My favorite is from "It Wears You Down" and sex in it at all. ;)

Anonymous said...

'So I kept some for you.'

Oh yes, Madeline! I think it's perfect.

Love means never having to say "I used up all my cum on your friends."

Sommer Marsden said...

(warning...sappy material may follow)


“You don’t like my answer?” He set his breakfast aside and struggled to a sitting position.

I shook my head, not trusting my voice.

“Come here.”

I didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

“Please? Michelle? Please, come here.”

I settled on the bed but kept my head bowed. I fought the tears and the thickening in my throat with everything I had. I shook my head, denying my urge to break down and cry. Daniel ran a hand through my hair and that only made my throat shrink further, my eyes fill more. “I love your hair. It reminds me of my first dog.”

I burst out laughing, grateful when the laughter allowed the tears to come. Carried on giggles and snorts they weren’t nearly as dangerous as they might have been. “Gee, thanks.”

“Hey, I loved that damn dog. Her name was Shirley. She was my first true love.”


“I grew up on Laverne and Shirley. I always thought Shirley was way funnier than Laverne. So I named her Shirley. She was a golden retriever. In the right light, your hair is exactly the same color as hers. Gold and strawberry and copper. All mixed together. You don’t have fleas, though, do you Michelle?”

This made me laugh harder, which made me cry harder. Somehow, I ended up in his arms, sobbing. The laughter nothing but a phantom echo in my head.

Unknown said...

I'm definitely a romantic-hell, I've been married to the same man for 21 years (anniversary yesterday)so I must believe in true love!

I think my stuff is always romantic but its also a little edgy and hopefully realistic so I'm not going to post anything because I can't pick! (and everyone else has posted such great stuff mine is superfluous :) )

Thanks for a wonderful post as always Jeremy!

Anonymous said...

I realize I'm going out of order here, but . . . that duct tape scene! I think embarrassment is definitely one of those emotions that can be distilled into offbeat romance. It can be another juncture at which love and acceptance transcend awkwardness and produce a powerful erotic chemistry. Oh, and that effect one gets when something that Character A is initially embarrassed about is revealed to be a turn-on for Character B--whether it's a personality "flaw," a physical attribute, a social faux pas, or whatever.

Alison Tyler said...

incorrigible blog addict

Ah, Jeremy, I think there's a program for that. Unfortunately, it's got 69 steps rather than the standard twelve.


P.S. By the way, I missed you, too.

Anonymous said...

Sommer: Thanks for giving us that excerpt! You know how much I love that story.

Anne (yes, I'm still out of order): Since I'm just the talking head, you'll actually have to pee yourself for the Random Number Generator (down the hall, third door on the left) if you're intent on influencing the prize outcome.

Kate: I believe that hot erotica excerpts, like words of love, are never superfluous. But I don't blame you for not wanting to pick. (I'm speaking as a person who has come to dread decisions of any kind!)

Kristina Lloyd said...

Can I come in? I’m the hostess with the leastest. Dearie me, I get shamelessly plugged by Jeremy then I bugger off and leave him alone with a bunch of smutty women. Oh, OK then, I’m perfect – just not very 1950s in my hostessing.

I love this stuff and am fascinated by all the different individual interpretations of what an ORM is. I find it quite tricky to describe what makes an ORM for me (which is why I asked Jeremy if he’d write a post about it after he complimented me on my NBT short – jeez, this is a great job). Because for me, an ORM is more than love meets kinky sex (though dirty does help and if you *must* keep making me read this filth ...). But trad romance meets non-vanilla erotica sells by the bucket load and I’d question whether most of that was very ormy (look – I made an adjective!). Jeremy’s descriptions are perfect – the mundane, the original, the absurd, incongruous etc. And it’s a slippery old beast too because this kind of stuff can easily tip over into whimsy.

When I first met Tilly, she’d recently read Asking for Trouble and she said (among other much dirtier things) she thought it was actually quite romantic. I knew then we would be friends. AFT’s got a bit of a reputation for being a dark, sleazy, rape-fantasy shagfest – ooo, is that paranoia or a shameless plug? – and I’m always thrilled when people can see past that. I'm not sure if AFT qualifies as offbeat though. It's possibly just warped romance, whatever that is.

OK, I’m going to see if I can pick an excerpt from somewhere now. I love Sommer’s hair of the dog. Tragedy and comedy are never far apart and misery scenes that flip suddenly into laughter can be great. Actually, all this shameless plugging makes me happy. More! More!

Alison Tyler said...

Hey KL,

I think you're a lovely hostess... although I have been waiting an awful long time for my Jell-O shots.


Kristina Lloyd said...

Um, yeah, the Jell-o shots. Sorry. I'm still consulting my bi-lingual AmE/BrE dictionary. Here, have a lager and a bag of crisps while you wait. And look! Something to read too ...

Here’s a snip from the beginning of Marianna Multiple from Sex in Public, a story which Forum magazine described as being ‘about as sexy as a pack of performing poodles.’ But hey it’s cool. I can handle it. The snip isn't so much a moment, more an overview of a loving marriage.

Marianna shared a trailer with her new husband, Mental Micky. He was a sword-swallower and fire-eater, a shabby, sinewy fellow with a goatee beard and a sleeve of tats on his right arm. He smelt of cigarettes, whisky and paraffin. When he wasn’t eating fire, he was eating pussy, usually Marianna’s. He had a tongue you could stub cigarettes out on, and it was rough and tireless on her clit. She loved him and he loved her, but she would never let him kiss her, not with that mouth. Sometimes, for a taste of something sweet, Marianna would eat cherries as they fucked. She’d pop them into her mouth or dip her head into a little bowl, spitting out stones as they rode. ‘Loves me, loves me not.’

Anonymous said...

Um, yeah, the Jell-o shots. Sorry. I'm still consulting my bi-lingual AmE/BrE dictionary. Here, have a lager and a bag of crisps while you wait.

Ooh, I like the barkeep's accent.

[Whispers] I don't understand it, Alison. The Michelin Guide said we could get Jell-O shots here.

So anyway, how's the lager? (I think you're supposed to dunk the "crisps.")

Alison Tyler said...

I think it's time we call on Smut Girl's super powers to whip us up Jell-O shots pronto. The crisps/lager offer just isn't working for me. I want that bright scarlet stain on my lips that can only come from Black Cherry Jell-O or, um, eating cherries while my fire-eater lover goes down on me for hours...

Nice one, KL.

Anonymous said...

Kristina, the cherries are genius! (Well, I mean the idea and execution have the mark of genius; the cherries themselves, intellectually speaking, are probably not that clever, though I'm sure they're very nice cherries who do a good job.)

Kristina Lloyd said...

Bloody 'ell, we've got the Yanks in again. Look at them dunking their crisps. Have they asked you if you've ever met the Queen yet?

Here you are, love. A dash of blackcurrant in your lager. That'll blacken your mouth.

Kristina Lloyd said...

Oh, and thank you for liking my clever cherries!

Sommer Marsden said...

My god. I was sitting and minding my own business when a giant SG went up in the sky, nearly botting out the sun. I knew it had to be for me...okay, or for the lovely Shanna Germain.

Black cherry? Do they have to be Black cherry? Cause I have these gorgeious, super bright regular red, red cherry ones right here in my cape...

Clearly, website building has addled my brain.
p.s. Loved, loved, loved KL's excerpt. Now I want the whole story. And my TBB list grows...again.

Sommer Marsden said...

And I have clearly forgotten how to spell...well...anything! Gack.

Anonymous said...

I'm not abandoning my barstool anytime soon . . . but before I start downing fermented crisps and other local specialties, I'd like to thank everyone for welcoming me here; for coming out to play; for sharing so much wonderful, ORM-aware smut and so many great insights; for all the nice things said about my blog post; and for not minding my penchant for semicolons.

And thank you from the bottom of my smut-drawer, Kristina, for inviting me, setting up the gig, renting the Chagall and the Lichtenstein (oops, sorry about the cherry-juice stains), making an adjective out of ORM, and linking to all my shameless pluggery. And KL & AT, thanks for making me part of a giveaway!

Thank you Lust Bites, collectively. Love ya.

Next round's on me. (I'll buy the drinks, too.)

Alison Tyler said...

Praying that
this works...

Kristina Lloyd said...

Yay - drinks are on Jeremy! You can come again, mister. Ahem.

Marvellous post. Thank *you*.

I'm slightly worried we may have scared people with our pluggery. Have we? Yikes. Cos there are 4 fab books up for grabs and not many people have said 'I want'! I count Danetteb and Smut Girl as our only contenders meaning the winner could be decided by me tossing a coin. Much as I love tossing, I do like to get the Random Number Generator out at the weekend. So if anyone's lurking and wants to be entered in the draw (not to be confused with entering Jeremy's smut drawer) just shout 'Mine's a vodka jelly!' or something. Jeremy's buying.

Winner announced this Sunday.

Kristina Lloyd said...

OMG! I got a t-shirt!

Ally said...

Shakes from head to toe. Breathing heavily. Wow.
Head is still spinning and ears ringing.

I read every little excerpt, followed the links, add two cups of coffee and I'm ready to run a ... sexathon?

My good morning has become afternoon. My how time flies when your having... cum, I mean fun.

All these shameless plugs happening has left me dizzy. So of course I must put in my own.

I finished my book Psychic Passions the other day. Still proof reading it and sending it in for an edit, then I have some offers for reviews. I'll submit it eventually (must complete synopsis). Here's an exceprt that I haven't posted on my blog. on writingandwrithings dot blogspot dot com

He told her ‘Baby raise your knees onto the edge of the bed just enough so that you won’t fall off, lower your ass and bend forward for me?’
Caprice loved it that he told her what he liked and asked for it. He entered her from behind at just the perfect height to offer as much penetration and stimulation for the both of them. He moved ever so slowly, feeling his way from one angle to the other, carefully listening to her moans of pleasure. When he found just the right moans, he knew he was hitting just the right spot and concentrated on that area.
Her mind raced, oh gawd he knows how to please me, this is fucking amazing, he’s the least selfish lover I’ve ever had. Fuck he feels so good. ‘Oh fuck me hard baby. Fuck me till I die.’ she begged.
He increased the power of his thrusts and settled into a moderate pace. His hands were using her hips as a guide and she could hear his husky breathing and ah’s of pleasure behind her. She tightened the grip she had on his cock with the muscles from her insides and he gasped as he felt the added pressure.
He quickened his pace as he came closer to orgasm. Plunging as deeply as he could making Caprice grunt loudly with each piercing of her body. Oh how he made her hurt so good. She loved feeling the stinging pleasure and pressure of his hard animal thrusting. Grabbing a tight fist full of her hair, Cassidy lost all control listening to the way she cried and panted, emptying her lungs as he filled her. He came with a blinding intensity that threatened to sweep him away.
When his breathing returned he lifted Caprices body up to meet his again. He was still inside her pulsating and he went to work with hunger on her neck. Cassidy grabbed another handful of her tousled hair, bending her neck back and to the side as best he could without snapping it and she gratefully turned it so she could feel his tongue fuck her mouth with passion. He always managed to sweep her breath away sending electric shocks down her body making her want him more with every thrust and twirl of his tongue.

PS. You guys taught me how to do "Italics" and "Bold" How do you put in a "Link"? You know... The blue ones with the undelines.

PPS. I just finished reading "Sex with Strangers".
Kristina... "Wet Walls" so fucking hot I wanted to go walking down alleys.

Sommer Marsden said...

I coulda been a contendah...oh wait! I am a contendah...

What is on tee! What? Do tell!

Ally said...


Amazing post Jeremy.

Anonymous said...

Thanks, Ally!

I'd wondered where you were; now I know, you were busy reading.

And, wow, you've also been busy writing. Big congrats on finishing, and thanks for heating up the joint (heating it up even further, that is) with your excerpt!

Kristina . . . it looks like you can rev up ol' Random.

Anonymous said...

And I thought romance was dead! All this time I should have been appreciating my lovers' sexual conduct as "offbeat romance"! The insatiable fucking in bathrooms sucking on highways sharing me his with friends kind of romance. I've lived an incredibly romantic life after all!

Fun post Jeremy! Love your work (as you well know).

Jordan LaRousse

Kristina Lloyd said...

I am revving - heck, that's Ally's fault. Congrats on finishing, Ally.

And - wowee - *so fucking hot I wanted to go walking down alleys* Thank you! You've no idea how much that thrills me. I love alleys. Can I have that on a t-shirt?

Sommer, check out Alison's 'this' link. I could be on bosoms!

Ally, I can do links but don't know how to show you without it turning into a link! Anyone - how do you do un-html?

Sommer Marsden said...

How did I miss that link?! Oh, I am jealous. The whole world can know about your shameless plugging.

Anonymous said...

For un-html, I usually type square brackets in lieu of angle brackets (and then caution the reader to really use angle brackets).

[a href=""]The Hunger Site[/a]

(I figured I might as well shamelessly plug one of my favorite click-for-charity sites.)

Ally, the normal text in the middle of the code (e.g., "The Hunger Site," or "click here") comprises whatever you want the linking words to say.

Be sure to enclose the URL in quotation marks; and don't forget that in real life, you should use angle brackets (and practice safe sex).

GLBT Promo said...

Hey Jeremy, fun post!

A bit of African American, F/F, BDSM? LOL (Can you say that fast five times? LOL) Anyhoo....this is an excerpt from a story I had published back in 2003.

In that room she stood there. Everywhere I went, she followed me with her eyes. She walked up to me, the only other black in the room, and said, "Get me a drink." I didn't know her and she didn't know me. But she told me to get her a drink, and I did.

Later, at her house, she placed me face down on her bed, my wrists and ankles tied. She reached into a chest, removed a paddle, and whacked my bare bottom until I cried out in pain.

"Come back at six tomorrow," she said.

"Can't I come later?" I asked. "I have a meeting at six."

"No," she said. "I said six. Don't disappoint me."

I remember staring at a bunch of papers while at work, the day after she spanked me, the same day she wanted me to meet her at six, and feeling the pain lingering on my ass. Glorious.

(An excerpt from "She" by Jolie du Pre in Hot and Bothered 4. )


Anonymous said...

Yay, more excerpts! The party rolls on. Thanks for dropping by and giving of your justly acclaimed work, Jolie!

Jordan! Hello and thank you!!

I've lived an incredibly romantic life after all!

Ha! I guess it's all in how you look at it, eh?

Anonymous said...

Psst! If anyone's lurking, now's your chance to sneak in, when it's quiet, and add your name to the free book drawing. I'll even close my eyes, in case you're shy and don't want me ogling you as you sashay along the length of the bar toward the fedora in which we're collecting the entry blanks. Just post anything, even a word, and I promise not to look.

My spam word is kflim!

Megan Kerr said...

Jeremy, sweetie, I realise it's late, but must I correct your grammar and your html?
If someone must use <angle brackets>, they need ampersand-l-t for opening, ampersand-g-t for closing. So, for failing to google the necessary, it's you & me having a vanilla-spanking Nanny-style ORM in the school science-lab closet (the big one with all the chemicals & the ebola virus vial) Bend over baby, Lust Bites's V-girl is about to give you one.

Anonymous said...

I was afraid to mention ampersand-l-t, for fear of violating an ampersand-copy-semicolon.

Alison Tyler said...

Ooooh, Jeremy,
Violate me with your ampersand, baby.


Ally said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

Ah, how I love it when the grammarians talk dirty! Will have to leave out some closing tags in future comments so Olivia can dispense some more vanilla correction...

Ally said...

OK I'm confused now.

Some one email me on myspace and explain it to me... please?

Anonymous said...

Well, Jeremy, as we've discussed in emails, I've always thought your writing is romantic. It's one of the reasons I'm such a big fan of yours. You make kink accessible and almost expected.

People should feel good about expressing their kink with another. Naughty moments are so much more fun when we can detect that fiery glimmer in our partner's eyes or voice or even thoughts--and know they are finding that same glimmer in us at the same time.

How much better can sex get? How more deeply intimate? How more loving?

This was a simply divine meditation and I've recommended my readers to you (as I always do).

With much affection, Angela

Murray Suid said...

Jeremy & Company,

I have nothing to add except APPLAUSE. What a romantic--and thrilling--meeting of the minds and other parts.

This is the sort of dialogue that the world needs now.

Thank you one and all.


Anonymous said...

I'm so glad this joint stays open 'round the clock! Here, have some crisps. (Yoohoo, Kristina! More numbers to randomize! Good thing you've kept the engine warm.)

Mina, you look very sexy, walking around with your tags off.

Angela, your kind words are making me smile and turn as red as a Hallmark valentine.

meeting of the minds and other

Look, Alison--I think Murray just coined an LB t-shirt!

Alison Tyler said...


Lust Bites: a meeting of the minds and other parts

I'm having that tattooed across my back as we speak.


Kristina Lloyd said...

Jeesh, she doesn't even bother with the T-shirts anymore.

Shanna Germain said...

--wakes up groggily--

Where am I? What? Is that the Smut Girl call? Or the Shanna Germain call?

Whatever, I'm ready! Here I come!

Great post, Jeremy

((This comment brought to you from the wilderness of Minnesota, complete with plenty of lakes, a big-mouth bass on the end of my line, the call of loons and a meteor/UFO that cruised through the sky last night at 2 a.m. Yes, I'm late, but the loons are very slow with bringing me things from the Internets.))

Alison Tyler said...

Jeesh, she doesn't even bother with the T-shirts anymore.

I ran out of room in my drawer.


Unknown said...

Awesome post! Great excerpt!