The Power of a Kiss

Vanilla often doesn't do much for me, but this kiss rocked my world.



It's hot, but the real key here is the emotional investment I have in these two. I've noticed lately that a really well-written vanilla romance can get me aroused even when it's full of sexual acts I often find bland. By contrast, the kinkiest scenes leave me cold if there's no context. It's part of what's developed since I stopped being aroused by the mere transgressive presence of kinky sex. It's a lesson I've been trying to keep in mind lately. Sex needs context and a story to mean something.

I watched this kiss about four times when I saw this episode. Its power reminded me that awareness of human emotion is always the key to appreciating what's going on physically.

Music Mondays: "Sweater Weather" by The Neighbourhood

she knows what i think about.
what i think about.
1 love. 2 mouths.
1 love. 1 house.
no shirt. no blouse.
just us. you find out.
nothing that we don't want to tell you about.

- The Neighbourhood

The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell

The Modern Erotic Classics series which put this book out (along with the one I featured last week, Dark Matter) really does look awesome. Here's some more information:

***

If his beauty was of the Devil, and this an enchantment, she did not care. . .

Lord Karolan Rakka is no stranger to death: sensual, mysterious and endowed with an arcane knowledge of alchemy, he has achieved immortality. Deeply lonely and tormented by the Fetch - the dark and wanton spirit who feasts on his fleshly desires - Karolan endeavours to resist the brief solace of sexual pleasure . . . Instead he longs for a kindred soul. And when he finds her in the ravishing form of Garnetta - a young woman, both innocent and lost - Karolan wastes no time in making her his own. But when Garnetta discovers the shocking truth about their overwhelming bond of desire, she flees Lord Rakka - and finds herself in mortal peril. Only Karolan can save her. Will he make a leap of faith for the woman he has grown to love . . . before time runs out? The Flesh Endures is a breathless tale of faith and love, and the bonds of desire from which there is no escape.

Available from:


Amazon

Amazon UK

All Romance E-Books

Nook

Excerpt:

It was gloomy inside the low room, the air thick with the oily smoke from rush tapers. The lavender and sweet woodruff that strewed the beaten earth floor had long since wilted and failed to mask the smells of stale sweat and unwashed clothes.

At the back of the room, in an area of deepest shadow, Lord Karolan Rakka lay on a pile of tawdry cushions. He watched his companion caressing the two young women, his perceptions blurred by the poppy drug coursing through his veins. The three naked bodies were shiny with sweat and the smells of sex and exertion clotted his nostrils. He wondered, for a moment, why he had stayed. There had been no reason to linger after Jack had given him the things he required, but he had felt a desire for human company. And so he had poured a measure of the opiate into a tankard of ale and settled back to watch Jack indulge his sexual appetites.

For a while the two women worked on his companion, taking it in turns to kiss Jack's mouth and caress his body. Then they put on a show for the two men, moaning loudly as they kissed each other, rubbing their breasts together until the nipples stood out like ripe cherries.

Inflamed by the display, Jack reached for Isabeau, preferring her rich womanly curves to Adeliz's more girlish form.

'Come and join us, why don't you?' Jack mumbled, surfacing from between Isabeau's spread legs and wiping her moisture from his chin. There's enough here for two. You don't mind sharing your honey pot, do you my pretty?'

*****

Author Bio:

Cleo Cordell is the author of nine erotic novels, a number of short stories and a forthcoming anthology. The bestselling Captive Flesh, published in 1993, was followed by Senses Bejewelled and Velvet Claws, and Cleo was established as 'the new queen of suburban erotica' in Today and 'queen of the undieworld' in the Woman's Journal. Her subsequent titles, Juliet Rising, Path of the Tiger, Crimson Buccaneer and Opal Darkness, confirmed her position as first lady of historical-fantasy erotica.

Writing as Susan Swann, Cleo's alter ego explored contemporary erotica in The Discipline of Pearls and The Ritual of Pearls.

Cleo began working for Northamptonshire Libraries at the age of sixteen. This gave her ample opportunity to explore the world of dark fantasy fiction, her first love. When not reading or researching, she enjoys the cinema, her cats, wildlife and cooking gourmet vegetarian food. At present she is working on the sequel to The Flesh Endures, continuing the fortunes of the enigmatic alchemist Lord Karolan Rakka.

*****

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:
The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford
Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger
The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu
Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu
The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell
The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell
Hogg by Samuel R. Delany
The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany
Sad Sister by Florence Dugas
The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés
Dark Ride by Kent Harrington
3 by Julie Hilden
Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis
Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg
Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg
The Agency by David Meltzer
Burn by Michael Perkins
Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
Evil Companions by Michael Perkins
Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl
Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald

Kinky Boots by K D Grace

God knows I am a sucker for some kinky boots. Count me in! Here's some info to match that hot cover (and, by the way, I wouldn't mind a link to the shoes that model is wearing...)

****

After a sizzling encounter in DEMON HEELS, a quirky all-night shoe store, with the store’s hot owner, FINN MASTERS, JILL HART walks away in the most gorgeous boots ever. Her new boots come with an unexpected bonus, a sexy demon named ELEANOR, who’s looking for a good time. All she lacks is a body, and Jill’s will do nicely.

Jill quits her dead-end job and, not knowing what’s come over her stops by the nearest pub intent on doing tequila shots until she falls off the stool. Instead she does FINN MASTERS in the beer garden, unwittingly participating in her first ever threesome. The boots were the bait, the timing was right and Eleanor has new digs. It’s Finn job to prevent Eleanor’s misbehaving. His failure means he’ll have to ride shotgun and do damage control until Eleanor moves out at the next full moon.

With Eleanor in residence, Jill’s bolder, sexier, willing to take risks. But is she a whole new Jill, or is it just demon courage? And how will Finn feel about her when she’s just plain Jill again? Will the maddeningly magical ménage make Jill’s dreams come true, or will it break her heart?

Available from:


Amazon


Amazon UK

More links will be added here as they become available.


*****

Excerpt:

There was a soft knock on the door and Meinrad entered the room with several hanks of what looked like ordinary rope. He nodded his greeting to Finn, then his gaze came to rest on Jill, and she felt her entire body blush at his inspection. ‘Turn around,’ he said.

She obeyed.

He made some sound low in his throat that could have passed as either approval or not. Then he placed a large hand on her shoulder and turned her back to face him. She noticed he wore the Kinky Boots uniform T-shirt stretched tight across his very broad chest. The shop name was punctuated by the hard pressure of nipples on muscular pecs. The black jeans he wore rode low on his hips. The wave of lust that rushed over her was staggering. How had she not noticed how sexy he was?

Then Finn moved to stand beside him, and she understood. Even though Meinrad was by far the larger man, Finn dominated the room. Finn dominated the space. Finn dominated every second of the last twenty-four hours of her life, as though he had shoved his way in and pushed everything else out. It did things to her, that thought, things that were way beyond lust, things that were a lot more frightening than being possessed by a demon.

He stood gazing down at her from some neutral distance that made her feel very much alone, as though the world and everyone in it had receded, leaving her to await her fate. Eleanor was keeping a low profile. Finn spoke without preamble. ‘Unless something’s hurting you, while Meinrad’s binding you, you’re not to speak. You’re only to move when he moves you. You’re to do exactly as he says. You’re to accept what he does to you in total passivity. Is that clear?’

‘Is he going to fuck me?’ She was embarrassed the minute she said it but it was too late to take it back.

‘If I want him to, yes,’ Finn said.

If Finn wanted him to. Dear God, what was she doing? Suddenly she felt unsteady on her feet. She didn’t know Meinrad. Not like she knew Finn. And yet the thought of the big man hammering her with his enormous cock while she was all trussed up was at least as exciting as it was uncomfortable. The thought that he would do so only at Finn’s bidding excited her even more.

‘There’ll be no safe word,’ Finn continued. ‘All you have to do is tell Meinrad to stop. Or if at any time he thinks you’re not fit to continue, he’ll stop, and that’ll be that. Are we clear?’

She nodded. ‘And what about you?’

‘Meinrad’s acting on my behalf.’ Finn held her in a cool gaze. ‘He’ll do as I say, and so will you, unless you choose at any point not to play.’ For a long moment he studied her, as though he might see something, perhaps some flaw, perhaps some weakness, she didn’t know what. He seemed too far away to tell. She held her breath. Waiting.

At last he blinked and stepped back, still holding her gaze. ‘I’ll ask you again, Jill. Are you sure this is what you want?’

She nodded, afraid to speak for fear her heart would jump out of her throat. Then she remembered to breathe again.

Finn said nothing. He took her hands in his and offered them to Meinrad, who took both her wrists in one huge palm and tied them across one another in a simple looped knot from which she could have easily escaped if she’d wanted. Then he led her to the bed and guided her onto it. There, he secured her hands to the headboard with several feet of slack, enough to allow him to work around her and at the same time allow Finn to observe from every angle. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed Finn had pulled a ladder back chair to the side of the bed and sat emotionlessly looking on. A quick glance was all she got before Meinrad settled her into a kneeling position facing the wall with her hands resting on the headboard.

In the beginning, it felt as though she were being decorated with rope; that’s the best way Jill could describe what Meinrad was doing to her. The rope was softer than she expected it to be and not unpleasant against her bare skin. The embarrassment she felt came, flashed hot, then passed as Meinrad looped the rope and efficiently placed knots above her breasts and then below and then tightened and cinched his efforts until the harnessing effect squeezed and pinched and offered up each of her breasts in a tight little nest of rope, like ripe fruit topped by the cherry-hard rise of her nipples. She’d always had sensitive breasts and to have them so handled and bound made her whole chest burn with a need that was replicated in her pussy.

Meinrad worked in complete silence, his hands moving over her body as though she were nothing more than the canvas for what he was creating. His touch was exacting and his rhythm as he worked was hypnotic. Early on she realised that one of his hands was on her at all times. She remembered basic knot training from her childhood days in the Girl Guides. Right over left and under and through. Left over right and under and through. Rope threaded through competent fingers, rope slid over bare skin, coiling, twisting, binding, descending right over left and left over right, pressing a column of knots down the length of her spine before looping around her waist and embracing her belly. Again. And again. Yes, she was his canvas, and what he created took its shape against her flesh, but his art didn’t happen without exacting a price from him, and in her peripheral vision, as he reached around her to secure a knot over her navel, she caught a glimpse of the erection set tight in his black jeans, and she felt the hitch of his breathing not quite hidden in the rhythm of right over left, left over right. As he crossed the ropes around her body, she felt the heat of his breath whisper along her back next to the weaving and twisting and soft swishing of the rope along her spine.

With a tug of the rope every pore of her body responded to the tightening just as he nestled a knot against the pucker of her bottom and her gasp sounded like a rush of wind in the stretching silence. Meinrad gave a little pull and her clit hardened in empathy with the pressure between her buttocks. Then without warning, he slipped an arm around her and turned her over as he pulled two strands of rope up between her legs, up tight against her upper thighs like the elastic of knickers, or a tightly cinched climber’s harness. That done, with a deft movement of his fingers he secured a knot just over her clit, and this time she cried out in the strange mix of discomfort and arousal. The whole gape of her was pressed between the two strands of rope, knotted at fore and aft like a ship, narrow and thick-hulled.

There was barely time to get used to the strange rub and pressure between her legs, or the knot that felt like the tip of a thick finger attempting to breach her bottom, before Meinrad began to bind her thighs to her lower legs and ankles, making the position in which she knelt mandatory. With each knot, with each looping of the rope, he forced her bent legs further apart until she was wide open, yet at the same time held closed by the ropes between her legs. Bound and kneeling on the bed, she tried to breathe deeply, tried to fight back the panic of her own helplessness, something she had never experienced before. She was dangerously close to hyperventilating, and Eleanor seemed to be completely absent from the whole event.

‘Shall I continue?’ Meinrad asked.

*****

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast route across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include The Initiation of Ms Holly and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Book two, Riding the Ether, is now available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall.

http://kdgrace.co.uk

http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

http://www.twitter.com/KD_Grace

The Military Wife by Lucy Felthouse

The inimitable Lucy Felthouse was kind enough to send over some information about her latest release, The Military Wife:

Three hot and romantic military tales from the pen of uniform aficionado, Lucy Felthouse.

The Military Wife


Tess’ salacious fantasies about her husband, Aidan, see her through the long periods of time when she doesn’t see him—when he’s away on tour with the Army. The rest of the time, she has to deal with day to day life alone. One day, a dull chore is interrupted by the unexpected arrival of her husband, and things quickly heat up in their kitchen, and beyond.

Passing Out Passion


When Christina attends her brother’s passing out parade with her parents, she’s full of pride at his achievement. What she’s not expecting, though, is to bump into old flame Phil Ashdown. They didn’t part on good terms and the atmosphere between them is awkward. But when they’re forced into conversation, it turns out that all those years ago, there was a misunderstanding. One that can very easily be put right.

Double Vision


Becky’s a military wife with a uniform fetish. She loves nothing more than having fun in the bedroom with her squaddie husband, where they share and act out many of their fantasies. However, there’s one fantasy that she’s never divulged, as it breaks their rule about bring other people into their sex life. One day, though, Becky decides to bite the bullet and tell Paul everything. She never expects him to make her fantasy come true. But then, Paul’s a very resourceful man.

Available from:

Amazon

Amazon UK

All Romance E-Books

*****

Excerpt:

Tess grumbled to herself as she heaved the shopping bags out of the boot of her car. It was a pain in the arse having to do this all by herself. Yet she’d been through this more than once, and it was going to be for the foreseeable future. May as well just get on with it and shut up moaning, she thought.

Just as she got to her front door and started fumbling for her key, risking dropping all her bags in the process, a voice said, “Let me help you with that.”

Tess dropped the bags.

She whirled to face the owner of the voice, unadulterated joy on her face.

“Aidan!” she shrieked. And, without caring who could be watching, she hurled herself into her husband’s arms. Luckily, Aidan had been fully expecting this kind of greeting and had braced himself. Supporting his wife’s bottom with his hands as her legs clasped around his waist, he felt himself stiffening almost immediately. You couldn’t blame him though, it had been months since he’d been home.

As she took his face in her hands, Tess was almost teary with happiness. She leaned in for a kiss that would show her husband exactly how much she’d missed him. Tightening her legs around him, she smiled into his mouth as she felt his erection nudging against her bottom.

What seemed like hours later, the couple finally came up for air. Surveying the damage around them, Tess made a quick decision.

“Grab the other bags while I dump this lot in the kitchen. Then lock the door behind you and get upstairs.”

Grinning, Aidan moved to do as he was told. Tess scrabbled items back into carrier bags and rushed into their home to put them down. Now the kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it. But she didn’t care. Her man was home. Smiling to herself, she turned as Aidan came in with the rest of the bags. She gestured to the floor and he put them down.

“Corporal Scott reporting for duty ma’am,” he said, snapping her a smart salute.
Bastard, she thought, he knows what it does to me when he goes all military on me. We’ll be lucky to make it upstairs at this rate.


Tess drank in every inch of her husband. The climate in Afghanistan had given him a decent tan, but of course he hadn’t been on holiday. He’d been fighting a war, and she was eternally grateful that he’d come back to her in one piece. He was still wearing his combats, with the regulation boots, but no headgear. He looked hot.

“Come here, soldier,” she said, crooking a finger, “and kiss me.”

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Music Mondays: "Better Dig Two" by The Band Perry - Take Two

"Here lies the girl whose only crutch was loving one man just a little too much."
-- The Band Perry



I've featured this song before, but that was when only the lyric video was out. I have to call attention to it again because of the amazing full video. American Gothic. Beautiful.

Better Than a Massage

Just a quick note that my story, "Better Than a Massage" will appear in Rachel Kramer Bussel's forthcoming anthology of anal sex stories, Baby Got Back. The book will be out in August, and I'll post more information as the release gets closer.

For now, I'll just say it's an f/f story based on my belief that anal sex is holiday sex.