OK, I realise that, as an erotic author, this may seem like stating the blindingly obvious, but I have a very definite streak of naughty running through my veins. One of the things that 'gets' me is a change of routine - the unusual or dangerous. Add to that the element of exhibitionism I possess and you have a combustible sort of combination. That may explain why today, driving along the motorway (or freeway for those Americans amongst you) I spent half an hour bringing myself to orgasm. Dammit, it was a good one, too!
Have you ever got yourself off in a dangerous or public place? This isn't the first time I've done something like this, but I think I'll keep the other occasions under my hat for the time being, just in case I need something to blog about later ;-)
Showing posts with label masturbation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label masturbation. Show all posts
Tuesday, 25 November 2008
Sunday, 9 November 2008
Free Read!!
For all of you who are thinking about buying one of my books, but wanted to get an idea of my style and skills first, as well as for those of you who just want to get your rocks off for free -- your time has come!
Download it now, free and easy to do
FREE READ AVAILABLE HERE
TThe Big Performance
When a stage manager gets carried away reading erotic poetry in an empty theatre she imagines an audience is watching her and does something she’s only fantasised about. However someone really is watching her and before long the pair of them are putting on a really big performance!
EXCERPT
I closed my eyes then, imagined what it would be like to be on stage for real, in front of an audience full of people and saying “when you fucked me” over and over. My body was hot and tingling and I put my hand between my legs, running my thumb over the seam of my jeans, sending gentle pressure down to the hot and responsive spot underneath.
“When you touched me, When you fucked me, When you touched me, When you fucked me, fucked me, fucked me, fucked me.”
I was so turned on now. I loved the thought of sitting up here, stroking myself and saying dirty words with a whole theatre-full of people watching me, getting off on me getting myself off.
I pulled in my stomach and slid my fingers down inside the waistband of my jeans. I pushed the soft cotton of my panties aside and slipped my forefinger into the crease of my pussy.
I couldn’t believe how wet I was, the moisture had seeped all along my lips and wetted my finger as soon as I touched myself. I circled my finger a couple of times, then added a second finger.
I ran my fingers down between my lips, slumping down in the chair so my hips were thrust forward to give me easier access. I pictured myself naked, or in skimpy underwear sat, just like this, on stage with a busily silent auditorium.
I could hear my own breath harsh and ragged in the silence, filling the huge, empty space. My hand was working fast now, slipping and rubbing across my pussy as I panted for breath and muttered those two lines from the poem over and over.
Download it now, free and easy to do
FREE READ AVAILABLE HERE
TThe Big Performance
When a stage manager gets carried away reading erotic poetry in an empty theatre she imagines an audience is watching her and does something she’s only fantasised about. However someone really is watching her and before long the pair of them are putting on a really big performance!
EXCERPT
I closed my eyes then, imagined what it would be like to be on stage for real, in front of an audience full of people and saying “when you fucked me” over and over. My body was hot and tingling and I put my hand between my legs, running my thumb over the seam of my jeans, sending gentle pressure down to the hot and responsive spot underneath.
“When you touched me, When you fucked me, When you touched me, When you fucked me, fucked me, fucked me, fucked me.”
I was so turned on now. I loved the thought of sitting up here, stroking myself and saying dirty words with a whole theatre-full of people watching me, getting off on me getting myself off.
I pulled in my stomach and slid my fingers down inside the waistband of my jeans. I pushed the soft cotton of my panties aside and slipped my forefinger into the crease of my pussy.
I couldn’t believe how wet I was, the moisture had seeped all along my lips and wetted my finger as soon as I touched myself. I circled my finger a couple of times, then added a second finger.
I ran my fingers down between my lips, slumping down in the chair so my hips were thrust forward to give me easier access. I pictured myself naked, or in skimpy underwear sat, just like this, on stage with a busily silent auditorium.
I could hear my own breath harsh and ragged in the silence, filling the huge, empty space. My hand was working fast now, slipping and rubbing across my pussy as I panted for breath and muttered those two lines from the poem over and over.
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