Erotica du Jour

Erotica du Jour

Take a look at these images. Lovely!

Don't forget to come back and read some of my stories though.

Excerpt from Novel - Work in Progress

This is the start of a new erotic novel set in the world of theatre. Actors Mickie and Tonks are playing Gerrard and Clara.

PROLOGUE


ACT III

An old brass bed gleams in a pool of light, the bed linen is blindingly white, the eiderdown a rumpled pink satin. GERARD and CLARA sit up in bed gazing into each other's eyes.

GERARD: Darling, I can't believe the moment has finally come.

CLARA: Oh Gerard...

He bends towards her, takes her in his arms and kisses her tenderly. Her long hair cascades over the snowy pillows like a tumbling golden waterfall.

CLARA: Be gentle with me.

GERARD: Darling I've waited so long for this moment, I won't let anything spoil it.

He caresses her soft breasts and, protected only by the wispy lace of her nightdress, her nipples rise
involuntarily to meet his touch. Unseen beneath the covers he pinches one roseate bud hard.

CLARA disguises her wince as a look of virginal expectancy.

'You Bastard,' she whispers, 'I'll have a bruise the size of a plum either side of my tit now.'

'Shut it, bitch,' he says, through clenched teeth, 'they'll hear you.'

CLARA reaches across his penis - encouragingly firm inside the red silk pyjamas - and cups his balls, which are hugged, soft and warm, by his tight scrotum.  Balls have barely dropped yet, she thinks, digging her nails in hard. Case of arrested puberty here, I reckon. That would account for a lot.

GERARD hisses and gasps.

CLARA: I'll learn from you, darling. I'll make you happy, I promise.

GERARD: (Through gritted teeth) Sweetheart, we have the rest of our lives to love, and learn. I'll be your teacher.

CLARA: And I'll be your willing pupil.

The red velvet curtains swish slowly together; there is a smattering of applause. When the curtains open again GERARD hops out of bed, surreptitiously rubbing his crotch, to take his curtain call.

CLARA, adjusting her nightdress, joins him. Hand in hand with THE MAID, in her frilly white apron, JESSUP, in butler's tails, JIMMY, in tennis flannels, and LYDIA, the Bright Young Thing, they bow and smile. The curtains swish closed again and the house lights go up.

~~~

'Thank God that's over.' Tonks pulled off the long blonde Clara wig and chucked it in the props box. Ruffling her short brown hair into its usual spiky disarray, she reached for the cold cream. Off came the pancake, the cupid's bow lips, the dewy-eyed make-up.

Slipping out of the flimsy nightgown, she examined her right breast. Sure enough, there were red blotches the size of Mickie's thumb and forefinger, on either side of her nipple.

'That bastard, Mickie,' she said to Carol, who was at the mirror wiping the Lydia-look off her face. 'Thank God it's the last night and I never have to get into bed with him again.'

Work in Progress : Stonehenge

A snippet from a work in progress - one for the next collection of short stories:

He slid his arm around her and leaned in to her neck. She lifted her head, exposed her throat to his warm breath. He breathed in the smell of her and she of him. Noses snuffling each other's napes and ears and throats, they explored each other like animals. Getting the scent of each other, learning the warm musky odours, the sweet stale sweat of bodies not yet washed but not unpleasant.

She caught the perfume of marijuana on his clothes, of incense, and patchouli. She wondered if he could detect the sandalwood oil she annointed herself with daily. When he sighed in some kind of ecstasy, she thought he must.

He touched the skin beneath her ear with his hot lips. Drew them, dry and trembling up over her raised chin as she tilted her head back, eyes closed. The sun burned red through her eyelids, dazing her, drugging her. She was no more than a mass of sensations: warm skin, tingling nerves, trembling groin.

When he caught her mouth with his she tasted honey and hot tea. Eyes still shut, she returned his first gentle kiss. They leaned against each other, propped up by each other. Josy felt her legs go numb beneath her, pinpricks in her toes. When he pushed his mouth against hers more firmly, she answered with her own forceful lips. Swaying and rocking together, they explored mouths and tongues and teeth.

When he pushed her down onto the spreadout cloak, she did not resist. When he lowered himself over her, his shadow blocking the sun, she knew it was right. Relaxing, she lay back and he covered her with his body. The feel of him, the weight of him, the wanting of him, crowded her senses. Midsummer day. The high point of the year. A magical time.

More Fantastic Photography from Ellen Rogers

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FREE STORY FROM PARTNER SWAP

Free-story-from-Partner-Swap

Have you ever looked at another couple and wondered, what if... ? Partner Swap offers twenty tantalising tales of couple that swap and share. From best friends who share more than their clothes to couples who seduce innocent bystanders for kicks; these stories are all about flicking the switch on fun and fantasy.
Partner Swap delves into the lives of lovers who dare to take the next step. In Sommer Marsden’s Intrigued an old friendship leads to new loving. A fancy dress party where anything goes is the theme for One Item or Fewer while the mistress is not all she seems in Like a Moth to a Flame.

READ A FREE STORY HERE 

My Totally Crazy Love Life by Laurindo Jones

My Totally Crazy Love Life by Laurindo Jones
  When Priscilla, aka the virgin princess, is accosted by the boss, she turns to Laurindo Jones for comfort, and Laurindo finds himself plunged up to his ears in a series of wild episodes beyond anything he’s imagined. First Priscilla receives “comfort” but not nearly as much as she wants. Then Laurindo’s foster-sister, voluptuous Laura, tells him, “You’ve been a naughty boy.” Paige, Laura’s BFF and Laurindo’s boyhood crush, adds: “Very, very naughty.” They proceed to demonstrate.

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Read an Excerpt and More About Laurindo Jones Here

Chocolate Ice-Cream!

And she’s still guzzling and gobbling and I’m staring at the ceiling trying to figure out what to do about the dribbles running down my neck and into my hair, when finally  -  thank the lord  -  she grabs hold of little Johnny  -  who by now is hot and red and fit to burst through having had to wait so long  -  and rams him into the ice cream tub and kind of swivels it round on him and it feels like I’m being fucked by an ice-maiden  -  tight and hard and cold  -  and by now all the hair on my body is standing up on end and even my goosebumps have got goosebumps, when  -  aaaaah  -  she pulls the tub away and slides her hot mouth around my ice-lolly and sucks him warm again. And, boy, is she enjoying it  -  her tongue is going this way and that way and all over the place, into every little crack and crevice, licking out that ice cream.

From: Finger Lickin' Good. The Stiletto Heel and Other Stories.