Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Forbidden Crush Part 6

Catch on up previous chapters:

Forbidden Crush, Part 6

By Samantha Kay

Jamie’s fingers were aching to intertwine with Darren’s as they walked into town. His heart was pounding uncomfortably, and despite the harsh winter breeze his face felt hot.

”You ok?” Darren said with a smile, his tone light and gentle.

Jamie nodded, noticing his neck and jaw felt stiff. “Just…nervous.” His voice was like crackly white noise through his dry throat.

As Darren tenderly placed a hand on Jamie’s shoulder, a sting jolted into Jamie’s skin, livening the nerve-endings right down to his spine.
Fuck, I haven’t felt like this in so long. I’d forgotten what it was like to be so attracted to someone. 

As they stared at each other, Darren’s fingers softly rubbed Jamie’s shoulder for a few moments before sliding them up to gently tickle the back of Jamie’s neck.

Jamie’s mouth curved into a small smile, but he was clearly stopping it from spreading into a big grin to let on that he was ticklish. He ducked his head away from Darren’s touch.
“Stop that.” Jamie giggled, his cheeks still glowing.

Darren chuckled as he took his teasing hand away. ”Ticklish huh? I’ll remember that.”

”Whatever.” Jamie chortled, “So where we going for this drink?”
He took a quick fleeting glance up from Darren’s crotch and to his chest, before moving his gaze to the floor.
I wanna feel his naked body against me so badly.

”I was thinking Ridge Bar? Its pretty good, it’s just before we reach town, ever heard of it?”

”No, but I’ll trust your judgement.” Jamie smiled.

Darren’s heart jumped as he felt his cock twitch.
Take things slow Darren; you don’t need to rush into bed with this guy.
Pfft, who am I kidding, he’s gonna break my heart either way.

Darren swallowed hard as he looked away from Jamie. The only time he ‘took things slow’ with a guy was when he actually liked them for something other then their looks. This wasn't just lust with Jamie, he wanted more.
Shit, this could all get so complicated…he has a girlfriend.
What am I thinking?

”Here we are.” Darren said as he stopped in front of a small building with a large frosted window. The glass was decorated with writing, reading ‘Ridge Bar’ in gold italics. From the outside the place looked small, but classy.

”Is it a gay bar?” Jamie said as he stared at the window, trying to look through the frosted glass.

Darren burst into laughter, which caught Jamie’s attention bringing him out of his daze.
”No it isn't.” Darren’s grinned. “Gay guys don’t only go to gay bars you know? Also, I thought it might be a little too soon to take you to one of them,” he teased with a wink.

”Sorry.” Jamie chuckled as he felt his cheeks begin to burn again.
Well, don’t I feel stupid.

”After you.” Darren motioned for Jamie to walk in first.
I wanna check out your ass!

Jamie gulped; surprised at how nervous he felt at walking into a place he’d not been to before. His hands were getting clammy and his eyes wide.
Has it really been that long since I last went out anywhere?

As Jamie walked in, his stomach felt tense and his mouth was suddenly dry. He felt intimidated when he saw how busy the place was. His breath was then caught as Darren gently put a hand on his waist before whispering in his ear.
”Hey, you ok?”

Jamie had stopped in his tracks without realising, but Darren’s smooth voice brought him back to life. His heart fluttering as he stammered back.
”Sorry. Yeah, err, fine.”

Darren chuckled quietly, before prompting Jamie to walk over to the bar with him.

”What do you drink?” Darren asked as he watched Jamie take a glance around the place.

”Erm, beer?” Jamie said absent-mindedly, as he took in his surroundings. The place was bigger then he thought it would be. Half of it had wooden flooring, the other half carpeted with a few tables and chairs, and a long bar went from one end of the room to the other. Behind the bar there was a large mirror, decorated with the same writing the window was.
All the tables were occupied, and people were also stood around in small groups about the place.

Jamie took his focus away from the room and instead began staring into Darren’s eyes as he was passed a cold bottle of lager.
I can’t wait for you to make love to me…
-holy shit, make love?

Darren leaned in towards Jamie, studying the anxious expression on his face.
”Hey relax.” He said soothingly.

”Sorry.” Jamie exhaled deeply as he managed to smile weakly at Darren. “Crowded places sometimes freak me out a little.”

”Serious?” Darren raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Why?”

Jamie shuffled awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck.
”Erm, well, I was jumped on in a club. Got beaten up quite badly.” He shrugged dismissively.

Darren’s eyes suddenly moistened as a jolt hit his heart. He was surprised at how he felt from hearing of Jamie being hurt. He had an urge to hunt down the people who’d attacked him and beat the crap out of them.
”Aw I’m so sorry Jamie.” He said quietly as he brought a hand onto Jamie’s shoulder and squeezed gently.
If I ever find out who they were, I swear

Jamie just shrugged again as he looked down at the bar, trying to tame his churning stomach.
He then shook his head, to rid the memories flooding into his mind.
”Anyway.” Jamie said as he cleared his throat before looking back up at Darren. “On a lighter note –“
He was interrupted as Darren quickly kissed him, wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him in as their lips crashed together.

A weight eased from Jamie’s stomach, allowing it to flip with excitement as he relished in tasting Darren’s warm breath against his own.
He didn't care about the idea of being seen kissing a man in public, all he could think about was taking Darren’s clothes off.
I need him, now!

Darren murmured into their kiss, his cock pulsing and craving to rub into Jamie’s.
”Wanna, wanna go…to a hotel?” Please say yes.

Jamie couldn't speak coherently; instead an eager whine came out as he continued to kiss Darren.

Darren tore his lips away from Jamie as he grabbed his hand and quickly yanked him along to leave the bar and go outside.
As soon as they were back out onto the street they wrapped their arms around each other, studying each other’s eyes.

”You sure you want us to, well, go to a hotel? Darren whispered as he brought a hand up to gently stroke Jamie’s cheek.

Jamie nodded, his throat tightening as apprehension fired through his body like a wave of prickly heat through his veins.
”I really wanna do this with you.” His voice trembly and weak. “I’m ready.”

To be continued…

Hope you are enjoying the story! Feel free to leave a comment and tell us what you think!

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Liquid Seduction

Well, you may have noticed that my story was, umm, shall we say , interrupted?  Yeah, we'll go with that.  I've debated on whether to finish it or not as life has been launching curve balls at me.  A new theme will begin next week in March.  The winners for the Giveaway will be announced Monday, March4th.  It's not too late to enter - and your odds of winning are still huge!  So right now, click on the page on the right.  The little tab right up there  and leave a comment. That's all it takes to enter! 

Today is featuring a writer who has contributed to our blog before, please welcome back Cecile Hardy with a flash fiction.

Liquid Seduction
Cecile Hardy

Sara leaned back in the tub, dipping her hair into the water and allowing the warmth to seep into her skin after a long days work. The bubbles popped occasionally against her skin as she stretched gently, first one leg, then the other. She sighed, flicked the radio on, closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax, drifting into a comfortable daydream. As her mind wandered she never noticed the door slide open a crack.

The eyes that peered through the gap were at first tired from work, but on meeting the image softened into a smile. Leigh’s expression quickly turned to playful mischievousness as her partner stretched and relaxed. Pulling the door to, but not quite shutting it, she slipped into the bedroom, tossed her coat into the wardrobe without a thought. Her scarf and shoes found their ways to the floor and her hat was tossed in a direction that she knew she’d regret not remembering later but at that moment, really, really didn’t care.

Leigh flew down the stairs, swinging around the end post with a practiced ease, ungracefully dodging the bag she’d dumped in the hallway as she bounded towards the kitchen, snatching two wine glasses and a favourite red from the sideboard. Spinning around she swiped up the box of chocolates she had bought for a friend’s party that weekend and attempted to take the first two steps together, before stumbling and catching herself awkwardly with her shoulder. Breathing a sigh of relief she took the stairs the rest of the way carefully, hesitating at the door to the bathroom. She looked down at the bottle in her hand and then caught her reflection in the mirror. Glancing at the door for the second time she returned to their room, dumping the bottle, glasses and chocolates on the bed and swiftly undressing. Now she was ready. Now she had a purpose.

Sara vaguely registered that someone had entered the house. Sara vaguely recollected hearing a thump and the sound of someone stumbling and cursing in the hallway. Sara vaguely remembered snorting at that fact. Right now however, she was in heaven and really couldn’t give a crap.

Leigh snuck into the bathroom, the door gently clicked shut behind her. Her bare feet moved quietly the few feet across the room and the wine bottle found the window sill overlooking the tub. The wine glasses quickly followed. Opening the box of chocolates she popped one into her mouth and resting one of her hands on the edge of the bath she used the other to snake around the back of Sara’s neck, drawing her into a deep, passionate kiss.

Sara’s brain exploded with pleasure as she was kissed. It was a mix of chocolate and mint and coffee that was intoxicating. She felt a foot touch her leg and the kisser slowly sink down into the bath with her, pressing their body into hers.

Leigh knew there was hardly any room in the bath to move and her knee found the gap between her partner’s legs, draping herself over Sara’s right side as she kissed her. Sara’s eyes fluttered open, dazed.  A silly smile spreading across her face.

“Hi.” She purred softly.

“Hi.” Leigh grinned, trailing her fingers up and down Sara’s chest.


“Why not?”

Sara shrugged and drew Leigh into a deep kiss.

“Wine?” Leigh smirked and shook the bottle gently.

“I love you.”

“I know sweetie.”

Leigh’s grin only widened as she poured the burgundy liquid into one of the glasses.

Monday, February 25, 2013

All I want.... Finale by Cathy Brockman

 Are you ready for the Finale? Brace yourself!!

All I want…Finale

The next couple months flew by. Jimmy and I can’t get enough of each other. He makes me feel so alive. So wanted.

“I am glad you took my advice and went to see a doctor.” Jerry slips his hand down his pants and adjusts himself or scratches before sitting down at the table.
“Pour me a cup of coffee will ya?” He flips open the newspaper and starts reading.
I want to pour the coffee on your head.
“What do you mean doctor?” Sitting the coffee in front of him the realization strikes me like lightning.
“Uhhh, Yeah. You could say something has made me feel much better.” There! I didn’t lie.
“I’m glad you’re finally getting out of the house. You were really becoming one hell of a bitch.” He takes a sip of the coffee, dribbling a bit onto the paper.
I glare at him in disgust. It’s a wonder the paper doesn’t burst into flames as hot as my stare is. What happened to the fun loving, energetic, teasing, sexy man I married?
He gained twenty pounds and got complacent that’s what.
I pour my coffee in a thermos and slip on my sandals, pick up my handbag and head to the door. Hearing the click of the door opening Jerry finally looks up from the paper. One eyebrow slightly arches in surprise.
I pause. Is he finally going to apologize for how he has been acting these past few months? Years actually?
“Where’s breakfast?”
 The force of the door slamming seems to vibrate through the house.
It took all my strength to not smash him in the head with the first thing I could grab. But that would be my coffee pot. He’s not worth that. Instead I will work off my frustrations on Jimmy. I am sure he won’t mind at all.

We have been seeing each other several times a week now, so we meet at several different places instead of just the coffee shop, to keep people from getting suspicious.
‘Meet me at the park. Stay in your truck.’ I text him as I get into the car. 
 Walking around to the driver’s side of his truck swinging open his door, I lean in kissing him harshly. Our teeth clack together, tongues meeting in a hot frenzy, and our lips bruising. We finally stop to come up for air.
“Damn Babe, That was amazing! But you got me all worked up.” His eyes heat up with desire, his strong arms holding me tight, and his large hands rest on the curve of my ass.
Slightly tugging him toward me; he climbs out of the truck and pulls me tight. I can feel his erection already straining against his jeans. I remember when Jerry was this eager. When he couldn’t seem to get enough of me. When did that all change?
He leans his head back slightly, still keeping our bodies close. “What’s the matter babe? You sounded so urgent when you called?”
At least he is concerned. Jerry would have taken his release before bothering to ask me. If he asked me at all.
“Do you have to work today?” I try to remember we are standing openly in a public place. But all I want to do is drown my sorrows in this man’s amazing body.
“Not until later this evening. Why?”

I whisper into his ear, nipping playfully. “Let’s go to the motel? Take our time.”
I nod.
“What about your husband? Don’t you have to be home to fix dinner?”
“He is going to a bowling tournament tonight. He won’t be home till very late tonight, or early in the morning that is.”
“Ok I’ll call into work. Where do you want to pick me up?” I look at his inviting bulge and get an evil idea.
“Pick me up at my house. You can drive today.” He looks surprised but doesn’t argue. He never argues. He’s So accepting.
“Won’t he be suspicious when he sees your car at home?”  He lets out a frustrated sigh. Pulling away slowly he climbs into his truck.
“I’ll be home before he does. I don’t really care anymore though.” I shrug and climb into my car. I blow him a kiss as I head back to the house to drop my car off.

Part of me wants Jerry to notice the car there and me gone. Maybe he would worry about me. Show some concern.

 When I get home Jerry is already gone. Not even a note reminding me about the tournament. The cereal box sat on the counter still open. The milk and an empty bowl sat on the table. The spoon dribbling a small puddle of milk lay beside it. How can one man make such a mess with a bowl of cereal?
I pack a small bag with a sexy negligee, some deodorant, clean underwear, and a toy I had thought would be fun to add to our explorations.
Jimmy pulls up as I dash out the door. He planned for us to talk on the trip over but I had something else in mind. He could talk, I would listen.

He didn’t do much talking.  Instead he did some begging for me to stop, then not to stop, and a lot of moaning as I teased and taunted him with my mouth and my hands the entire ride over.
 I know it was dangerous but it was exhilarating. I haven’t done anything that crazy and wanton since I was a reckless young girl.
Since I had him so worked up even before the trip I made sure he came. I did wait until we arrived at the hotel though.
 Watching him throw back his head, arching in the seat gripping the steering wheel so hard was amazing. I wanted him inside me so bad, but I had plans for the rest of the morning, and afternoon, then we could take a nap before enjoying the evening. Ahh the pleasures of a young man. Stamina, and lots of it!
We took advantage of the extra time together by spending the entire day in the hotel room. Most of it in bed. Regretfully we decided to stop and get a bite to eat before heading home.
We walk hand in hand into a little roadside diner It is surprisingly crowded and noisy, though there are plenty of empty seats. It seems to be mostly truck-drivers interspersed about and a large group of men gathered around a few pushed together tables in the center of the room.
 All of a sudden the noise dies down to a dull hum. The  large group of men suddenly go quiet and the ones with their backs facing us turned to stare.
 My heart froze.
“Teri? What the…” He stammered, his hands clenching at his sides. The men on either side of him hold tightly to his arms as he rose quickly, practically knocking over the chair and a few dishes on the table.
I don’t know what was worse, the mixture of shock and pain on his face or the crack in his voice.
 What have I done?
 Jerking my hand free of Jimmy’s, I turn and run out the door. Jimmy is right behind me. He reaches for me but I pull back. What do I do? Where do I go? I look around panic stricken.
I turn around. Jerry is standing outside the door. One of his friends comes out and says something to him. He assures him there will be no violence and the man reluctantly goes back inside.
“The car.” He grabs me by the arm and pulls, glaring at Jimmy.
Jimmy steps forward. Jerry’s grip tightens possessively.
“I’ll take you home.” Jimmy hands curled into fists, his jaw tight, eyes fixed on Jerry’s rough grip.
“Or somewhere safe.”
“You just get the fuck out of here. Don’t you ever come anywhere near my wife again. EVER!” Jerry drops my arm and steps forward.
Jimmy holds his own, though he is much smaller than Jerry. He looks at me imploring.
“Did you drive?” The edge in Jerry’s voice slices through the air.
My heart aches as I see the tears welling in Jerry’s eyes, the taught lines of his ruggedly handsome face as he grits his teeth.
 I shake my head.
“Jerry.” I reach over to touch his arm, expecting him to jerk away. I was surprised when he fell into my arms, silent sobs racking his chest.
I look up at Jimmy still standing a few feet away and see the pain on his face. Damn! What do I do?
I pull back from Jerry.
“I need to go talk to him.”
“Just tell him good-bye and whatever the fuck you’re doing is over. Jesus Teri, he is just a kid.” I see Jerry head to our car. A horn honks and headlights flash as he pulls out the remote to his car.  The door bangs shut, motor racing to life.
“Don’t tell me this is goodbye?”
The pain on Jimmy’s face was almost more than I can bare. I never meant to hurt him. I look at him in shock.
Did he really think I might choose him? Hell! Of course he did. He never thought he was just something to ease my loneliness, to boost my ego. A toy.
 He thought what we had was real. How the hell did I not see that? All this time I thought we were on the same page. I thought he knew this was just a fling. He couldn’t be serious with someone of my age? With one fell swoop I break two men’s hearts.
“You know I love you? I am going back to college in fall. Come with me.”
I almost faint. Another big surprise. What next?
“Jimmy.” Something in the tone of my voice must have given my answer away.
 For the second time in less than ten minutes I watch another grown man fall apart.
I wrap my arms around him.
 BLEEEEEEEP! A horn blares out.
 “Will he hurt you?” Jimmy pulls back.
 Damn! His heart is shattering and he is worried about me.
BLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! The headlights flash now. I guess that’s my signal to hurry up.
 I shake my head and turn towards the car.
“Call me tomorrow and let me know you’re safe.” He hesitates. “And if you change your mind.” I just nod and get into the passenger seat.
  The tension is thick and there is a chill in the air despite the heater being on. Jerry doesn’t say a word until we are almost at our house.
“Are you in love with him?” His voice still sounds horse and crackly.
“No” I answer truthfully. The entire ride home all I could think of was please, don’t leave me. Please give me another chance.
 I knew the moment I saw the hurt on his face that I would do anything to be able to take it all back.
 His hands shake as he turns the key in the lock. He pushes the door open and steps back for me to enter. Bang! I jump as the door slams shut behind me. Jerry’s lips slam into mine furiously.
Twining his hands tightly in my hair, he pushes me against the door. The harsh kiss turns passionate fast. I gasp in astonishment.
He lets me up to catch a quick breath. Our eyes meet. I haven’t seen so much passion, desire, and need since our honeymoon.
 He pulls me back into him. His lips meet mine again. Still urgent but not as violent. Strong and possessively his tongue invades my mouth. The swell of his erection pressing into my belly surprises me. Butterfly kisses touch my cheek, behind my ear, my neck. His hands trail my body as if remembering and relishing each and every curve.
“Go get in the shower. I can smell his cologne on you.” His voice is thick with need.

I step out of the shower and practically trip over him, standing there watching me as if he was afraid I may disappear. His always perfect hair disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned exposing his thick hairy chest, his hand rubbing his thickness over his jeans. Holy crap he is so sexy. There is the passionate, carefree man I married.
  As I’m reaching for the towel he grabs my arm, yanking me back to him.
I moan as our mouths unite again. This time his kiss is pure hunger, need. I see the glint in his eyes as my tongue joins his in an erotic dance.
His strong hands cup my wet, naked ass as he lifts me. I wrap my dripping legs around his waist and  he carries me into the bedroom.
   Letting out a hungry groan, he falls on top of me as I land in the center of his bed. Our bed.
He makes love to me like he never has before. Long and full of heat, lust, and love. I come over and over, wondering when he is ever going to stop. Hoping it never ends.
Collapsing on top of me, he shouts out my name as his body pulses, filling me with his hot seed.
We fall asleep tangled in a heap of hot, sticky, and exhausted limbs.

I waken and gaze at the man in my arms.  Dark stubble outlines the strong, masculine face, and his lips still swollen and red from all the kissing and exploring of my body. The scent of sex and sweat still fill the air with memories of our passion.
He holds me tightly like he is afraid to let go. The long soft eyelashes flutter, and pale gray eyes meet mine. I expect a look of accusation but all I see is love.
“Let me go freshen up. Then I’ll make breakfast and we can talk about it.” I try to turn over to get out of bed.
His arms tighten as he kisses my cheek.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” He states matter-of-factly, his hands now trailing down my back, caressing my skin softly. Soothingly. Lovingly.
“I owe you an explanation.” I pull back to look into his eyes. I think his eyes were the first thing I ever noticed about him all those years ago. Soft gray, like a morning dove, full of light and life. His every emotion would reflect in the deep smoky depths. The little crinkles of laugh lines now just emphasize, and improve them.
“No. I owe you an apology. I know why this happened. It’s all my fault. I took you for granted.”
My mouth opens and closes like a hungry fish. Not at all the reaction I expected.
 He kisses me softly and lets out a soft sigh. I feel his body growing thick against me.
Damn! After my marathon with Jimmy yesterday and the triathlon with Jerry last night, I’m not sure I have it in me.
“Jerry.” He stops me with another kiss. This one’s long, deep, obsessive.
“It happened and we can’t go back and erase it. If I wasn’t neglecting you, I don’t think you would have ever strayed. Would you?”
I just shake my head. I can’t believe he is being so loving, so forgiving. Blaming himself.
“I need to know one thing. I asked you last night, but I need to hear it. Did you love him at all?”
I shake my head.
“I need to hear you say it. I need to hear you tell me that you still love me. Like you use to.” His eyes meet mine. “You know he is in love with you don’t you?”
I was shocked at the note of sympathy in his voice. But that was another of his traits I admired so much, that caused me to fall in love with him immediately, his compassion.
“No Jerry, I never loved him. I do have feelings for him. We became close friends. I didn’t realize until he told me last night that he was in love with me. But yes I can let him go. I WILL let him go.” I corrected myself.
“Damn Teri, he looked so young. I hate that he is gonna get hurt in this, but I can’t share you.” He looks at me wistfully. “What do you want? I will do anything I can to fix this. To be the man you need. Want. I’ll try to be the man I used to be. I can forgive you and forget this ever happened. I caused it. I’ll never ever take you for granted again.” His hands slid lovingly up and down my body, his eyes following, as if seeing me for the first time.
His hand slips between my legs, spreading them gently. He rolls me to my back, kissing me. First my lips, down my chin, my neck, my chest, pausing to pay homage to my hard nipples. Those sexy, soulful eyes filled with passion and love like I have never seen before, watching me as his tongue burns a hot wet trail down my aching body. I gasp and arch into his face as he teases me. His deep, throaty moans are like soft rolling thunder warning me of the torrent of passion I am about to receive. He raises up suddenly. His whole body envelops me as he kisses me. The bitter taste of me mixed with the taste of him is like an aphrodisiac, as if I needed one. He made love to me again, gently, meaningfully.
What do I want? Everything I ever wanted, needed, is right here in my arms. It has been right in front of me all this time. Hidden by the comfort of the life we built together. Disguised by our complacency.
“You.” I gasp.
“All I want is you!”
 “All I ever wanted was you.” He whispers into my ear as he holds me tightly. Our bodies both still echo the throes of our passion.
“Call him. You have to go tell him in person. Let him down as easily as you can, but make it final.” I look at this man and wonder how I ever could have betrayed him. But I did. Now I will have to face the consequences of my actions. It won’t be easy.
“I love you Jerry.”
“I love you too Teri, I always have and always will. Now go fix breakfast. Go talk to him then come back and move your stuff back into our room.” He stands up, scratches his head, grabs the nearest garment, and tosses it to the floor after wiping himself off.
“I think I would have died if you would have chosen him.” His voice was low and sad.
I look at him in awe. Chuckling to myself as I realize even with all his bad habits, every I ever wanted had been here along. I just couldn’t see it for all the clutter in my heart. It took almost losing him to figure it out.
“All I ever wanted was the man I married. Welcome back.”

Not the End but a new beginning!

If you missed the beginning you can find it here
Part 2 here
Part 3 here
Part 4 here

Well what did ya think?  Were ya totally shocked?  I would  love to hear  what ya  thought about  it!

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Wind in White Birch - Issue # 8

Hello all! My name is V.L. Locey.  I am a self-published and traditionally published author that lives in the mountains of Pennsylvania with my husband of over twenty-one years, my sixteen year old daughter, a herd of dairy goats, chickens, geese, ducks, turkeys, two dogs, two cats, and a partridge in a pear tree. For more info about me and contact links, check out the author bio tab up above.

Enough about me, let`s get back to Wind in White Birch and our lovers Jonah and Dana.

Wind in White Birch


V.L. Locey

Issue Eight


The next morning found me curled up with one of the handsomest men I know. He smelled like chocolate milk and sweaty boy. I hugged Rhett close and watched the sun waking up. Pinks and purples tinted the frosty pane. I didn`t recall my son crawling in with me after Jonah had left for his place across town. Andy had gotten me settled into a spare room then retired. Rhett had been placed in a bedroom that Andy`s young grandson`s used when they were here, complete with bunk beds. Must be my son woke up in a strange room and wandered around, peeking into rooms until he found me.
A wonderful smell crept in the door that had been left ajar. I couldn`t resist. I slid from the covers and pulled a thick blue robe over my flannel PJ`s. A quick trip to the small bath attached to the guest room and then I headed out, following the tendrils of freshly brewed coffee like a bloodhound on the trail of a convict. Andy was sitting at a round kitchen table sipping at coffee in a heavy ceramic mug.
“Morning,” he said with a smile that showed perfect teeth. “Coffee`s ready,” he motioned at the maker on the counter with his cup. I didn`t delay in accepting his offer and soon had my own green ceramic mug of creamed and sugared.
“This is delicious,” I sighed, sitting down across from him.
“I mix two different kinds of roasts, but what they are is a secret,” he winked.
I smiled and sipped, enjoying the calm serenity of a winter morning with an old friend.
“So, you and Jonah are hitting it off good?” he asked nonchalantly, his thick silver eyebrows trying not to climb up in curiosity and give him away. I swallowed and blushed, nodding gently as the heat ran to my ears. Andy seemed pleased with my reaction. “Good, good. I`m pleased he and you are seeing each other. I want you to know that there are some who will look down at you and him dating.”
“Oh we`ve run into one of those already,” I frowned then relayed what happened with Rhick the previous night. Andy leaned back in his chair, saying little as the story unfolded. His robe was dark blue and as furry as his eyebrows.
“Glad to hear he kept his temper mostly in check,” he said, running a hand over a face that was deeply etched with life. “You won`t just get that from the whites though. You may run into resentment from Native`s as well. There are lots of people that think we shouldn`t pollute our genes with white blood.”
I blinked at him. “I never knew that,” I whispered into my coffee mug.
“Intolerance isn`t limited to just one race,” Andy said then tipped his head when the crunch of tires could be heard out front. From somewhere under the table the pug exploded. A moment later Jonah filled the doorway, his grandfather`s dog attached to his pant leg.
“Yeah, want to call off Achilles here?” Jonah grumbled, jerking his open palm at the dog tugging on him. A giggle broke free that I quickly buried in a gulp of coffee. One dark eyebrow crept up Jonah`s brow. Andy exhaled dramatically then rose with the help of his cane.
“Release,” the elder Big Deer said. Achilles did as asked, his tiny tail curled up over his back saucily.
Off Andy went, followed by his attack pug. I followed Jonah with my eyes as he cruised across the kitchen, his goal the coffeemaker. He was a sight to please any woman`s eye.  His hair was neatly braided, his coat was on the back of Andy`s seat, his jeans were snug across his ass and thighs, and his long-sleeved blue and grey tee hugged his barrel chest nicely. I had to make myself stop staring at his backside while he poured a mug of special Big Deer brew. I focused on my coffee. His fingertips tickling across the nape of my neck made me leap.
“Damn it, stop doing that!” I squeaked, coffee slopping over the side of my mug. He chortled impishly as I rose in a tiff and stalked to the sink. “Just how the hell does a man as big as you sneak around so quietly?” I asked, rubbing at my right breast with a wet sponge.
“Seneca warrior blood,” he purred, one arm sliding around my waist. The sponge flew from my hand. Jonah chuckled as I sputtered in aggravation. He then ran his lips over my jugular. My fingers clamped onto the edge of the sink. “You taste good.” His words vibrated through the throbbing vein. My legs grew rubbery.
“Jonah,” I whispered weakly in warning. His left hand splayed over my trembling stomach.
“Dana,” he responded playfully, the edge of his teeth scraping over the delicate skin of my neck. “So sexy,” he added, licking a fiery path to my earlobe then taking the dangling little nub between his teeth. He suckled. I melted. The dots of coffee on my robe were forgotten when his hand massaged my abdomen. “You think it`s funny the man you`re dating gets attacked by a watch dog?”
“A watch pug,” I corrected.
“A pug is still a dog. He could have torn my ankle off.”
“Good thing Andy was here to save your ankle,” I commented, leaning back into his embrace.
He cinched me closer. It was a lovely moment, standing at the sink, watching the sun breaking through the naked trees to turn the snow-covered yard into a shimmering blanket of diamonds.
“You ready to go see what I want to show you?” he asked a few moments later. My hands were resting on the thick forearm holding me close. I shook my head. He made a boyish sound of impatience.
“I haven`t even showered or had breakfast yet,” I chided, smiling at the new day. It had been far too long since I greeted a day happily held in a man`s arms. Jonah pecked my cheek before stepping away. I turned to quirk an eyebrow at him.
“Go get a shower. I`ll make breakfast and wake Rhett up,” he said, already at the fridge.
“Rhett should shower too,” I said, recalling the somewhat sour aroma of the bundle in my bed. Jonah waved his hand at me dismissively, his head inside the Frigidaire.
“Nah just wet his head and call it good. He`s a little boy. They don`t bathe for weeks if memory serves,” he said. I wanted to argue but the view of that tight ass of his negated my maternal protests. Also, if I was being honest, I was really curious to see this big exciting secret of Jonah`s.
“Okay, but he must take a bath tonight or he`s not sleeping with me,” I announced with proper motherly conviction.
Jonah jerked his upper half out of the refrigerator, a carton of eggs in his big hand. “Is that one of the prerequisites for being able to sleep with you, Dana?” he inquired, his black eyes igniting as he spoke.
My brain slid into the naughty zone. My tongue suddenly felt knotted. I suspected that this was a game that Jonah liked to play to see just how flustered he could make me. Well, two could play at this little verbal competition.
“Yes it is, why? Do you go to bed dirty?” I countered smoothly. I was so proud.
“No, I`m always clean when I crawl into bed,” the man responded, “It`s what happens after I get between the sheets that makes me dirty.”
Oh dear. I searched my mind for the witty repartee file. All I located was the smutty fantasy file. It was a fat file with X-rated images of Jonah and I having wicked sex wound in a damp sheet.
“Part of the art of dialog is that the other person responds verbally and doesn`t just stand there, hand at throat, lips parted slightly, staring at the ceiling,” Jonah remarked a moment later.
My hand fell to my side. My mouth opened and closed three times. I spun around and stomped back to my room, Jonah`s hearty laughter nipping at my heels like Achilles the watch pug.

Thursday, February 21, 2013


Did you enjoy the Artisan?  I sure did.  This week is a new tale, a new seduction, a new chance to delve into illicit passions.

Don't forget - there's still time to go to the page above for our Storytime Trysts  Valentine's Giveaway!! 

Ben Hannigan

The audience's eyes follow my soft red light as it moves across the deep rouge curtains. It is tantalising, tempting, guiding, and deceptive. My blinding beam silhouettes the figure that descends the centre aisle, step by step, more eyes are entranced, captured, dominated. The stage erupts with flames as the back of the figure reaches the final step before plunging the audience into pure darkness. My glow lights him from beneath and he begins, voice barely a whisper.

"Girls and boys, madame's et monsieur's, ladies und gentlemen...Cabaret"

I guide you across the stage, enveloping you with a soft glow; your clothes neat, tidy, not a hair out of place. You are in control of the audience, your voice and your actions, appealing to those who gaze upon you, entrancing them. Your suit a soft grey, so ordinary, so plain and yet my light touches the barest hint of what is to come.  The glint in your eyes as you hungrily watch the woman who glides across the stage past you. Gracefully, her black gauze dress swirls around her as she moves. My soft glow enhancing her features, highlighting her innocence, capturing her curls, a halo dancing around her body as she curtsies. The audience knows what is to come and yet I allow them to be fooled, drawn into the simplicity of their entrance, wit and charm. Her smile enraptures them; his self deprecating laugh holds their hearts firm. The connection between Compere and audience bound together as tightly as the very beams of light that orchestrate this scene. 

 I’m standing on the stage now. I can hear the band waiting, their breathing and the crowd; ah the crowd. How I adore the crowds.  Over time as I speak they become mine, they and I walking through this journey together as lovers. They follow my every word, their emotions dictated by my hand. I am sick in my stomach, my body churning as it always does before the show.  My heart racing though the band is playing as I begin my story. I cannot hear anything but my words and my heart. Its beat a sharp staccato rhythm. As the music comes to its crescendo, the routine a comforting welcoming blanket around my shoulders.
I know my role, my place. I have welcomed them to the club, introduced the girls and boys who are, at least as far as the audience can see and be allowed to believe, my puppets. My suit is plain, the light creating a glossy sheen of sweat across my brow as it bathes me in its loving embrace. I know the audience is mine. I see their shining eyes, their awe, their desire and fear; fear that I will let our Helga prove her femininity and most importantly fear that I will take this away, that I will return them to Berlin, return them to the drab world outside.

“Now you have met my darlings, my beautiful ladies, and as you see they are ladies.” I watch their eyes lusting over Emilia and Loren and grin a wide smile.  The smile with a razor edge to it, a dark mocking grin, that of a jester or a clown in the moonlight. “If you don’t believe these honest claims, Our Helga can perform her celebrated dance of the seven veils.”
The laughter and catcalls that had before so warmed them as they sat grinning and smirking, subtle winks and nudges amongst comrades are gone now. Extinguished as surely as it was I who blew out the candle. Their grins, now warped, show all the signs of strychnine poisoning , one grimace and I know they are under my spell. I alone control their moods. The move from giddy cheer to a sickening horror is sudden, though they cannot look away from the Follow spot for fear they may miss what so enamours or appals their comrades.

I appear on the surface much like my Vittoria, she is beautiful but she appears to be innocent, she appears gentle and delicate. And she is ... oh she is! On the surface that is, I cannot resist allowing my eyes to flash wickedly as she enters behind me. I introduce her to the crowd. Not for her the lewd innuendo of my opening act. She is the delicate flower that we protect.
My opening is filled with crudity and sleaze but also a soft, comforting compassion. It is imperative that the crowd see I love my girls, my dancers. They need to believe the myth, the magic. They need to be mine and they need to believe what I am showing them. They need to see her, this gentle sweet darling become mine through the power of just my words. They need to see her fall under the same spell I have over them. She is a comfort as she, at least to them, believes in the magic.

It is time now, I feel it. I’m flying, relying on my memories, on the way the club is filled with the atmosphere. I am standing in the centre of a storm here, the air charged with electric sexual tension and its mine to command.

And then, my glow burns red, deep, dangerous, passionate and deadly.

I feel the heat as the glow changes, deepening all the emotions flowing around the theatre. I’m looking into her eyes now, those eyes that make her perfect for this act as I talk to her, talk to the audience but through her. She is staring at me as I begin to prowl, the band now silent as they too slip under the spell. I feel the words flowing as the tension builds, I begin to weave the silky soft sentences that so entrance her and them. I am offering her everything and yet nothing. Promising to broaden her mind, to challenge and bewitch her senses.
The air heady with anticipation, I feel my sweat dripping down into my collar as I talk. My mouth on her ear but the audience can hear every word. My darling is smiling inside. I can feel it by the heartbeat trapped beneath my thumb. She knows this game, a dance as old as time. She begins to move, slowly shedding the persona of the delicate innocent slip of a girl, peeled away layer by layer as if it were the soft skin of a snake.

My words sensual and teasing fuel her shivers as she begins to shake. The audience hypnotised by her as I prowl, watching, devouring her and her alone, as I work my slow seduction. She is unsure, nervous and the audience are caught on our baited hook.

I have them in my hand, just as I appear to have this beautiful morsel. I am talking to her, they can see that but to each lady in the crowd I am talking to them and them alone as each man watches her hungrily.

"My flower, my lily, you are so delicate, so pure, so...tantalizing.” my voice almost oozing like a thick rich chocolate, they can see the words engulf her, her gentle blush, her coy movements, they believe her to be young and fresh. Naive.

Now in this place, in this time. It is real.

I run my hands across her bare arm eliciting a soft moan, the slow seductive sound moving through the mind and body of each of our guests, they are craning closer, flushed hearts pounding just as my Vittoria’s  is on the stage.

 “Your scent, your grace, is intoxicating. I see you, I gaze upon you, my fingers running over your silken folds, tracing my way up your stem, so innocent and yet so dangerous. For you have thorns, do you not?”

 My movements delicate and slow, somehow totally innocent.  Yet they ooze sex, my words mimicking this torturous blur, each innocent gesture and word seemingly more obscene than any depraved act seen on this stage before.

 “My love, you like the danger, the nips, the plucks, the spins, the way I cause you to whirl in the wind and yet forever find yourself back in my hands. I peel away your layers, a bright cheerful buttercup you rest under my chin, spreading yourself across me, hair tumbling like liquid fire. I want you, I will take you, pluck you from the earth and carry you to new heights." I undress her hair, gently easing the coils of tied plait out until her tendrils caress and almost lick her skin bathed in red light. She is mine as I weave the spell.  Asking her consent, begging for everything I have offered in my speech as if I need it!  

And... she begs, she pleads on the stage, dropping to her knees in ecstasy, the audience watching this pure innocent flower become something much, much more.  My words continued as I stare into her eyes, the line between innocent hints and direct overt, almost lascivious, demands blurred in the sheer poetry of my description.

“I take this silken flower, stroke and caress each petal in my explorations. This plucked flower, fresh from the bush, is torn as I begin to peel away each petal slowly.” The rose in my hand has become the whole focus of my attention and drawing the audience both to me and her.  She writhes and shakes falling back on one hand showing just a hint of lace the audience coming with her on this ride, on this release.

Her movements giving the audience, what I want them to feel. What I command them to feel; this and nothing more.
“I walk through the city and I peel away each petal until” I pause, my voice husky and unhurried. My Love looking up at me, needing me to continue. Her sanity held by this pause, the rose stripped to its very central folds a symbol and more.  I bring it to my lips and smile. "I gently kiss the centre of the rose. The perfume, the pollen contained in its core, its essence, the pure centre a divine taste on my lips.  Its glorious scent filling my nose, this moment of heaven, this beautiful flower giving up everything to me.”

My tongue flicks over the centre of the flower and the audience gasps at my audacity. My tongue parting the lips of the flower, reaching for its very core and then it comes; it rushes up, this sweet glorious nectar.  The first shaky orgasm of a young girl on the cusp of adulthood, playing a game she doesn’t truly understand with a man who wants . . . oh, so much more. I hear the audience gasping and moaning with her.

They experience everything she does as the feelings run through her. I see and hear the moans and gasps of this young woman, not just coming from her but from the women watching.  The men torn between her and their relatives; sisters, lovers, wives and daughters. The air is thick with tension and the tantalising smells of arousal. I raise my hands in ascension falling backward onto the waiting wires that balance me there. The rose dropped and crushed by my foot as I step back, a dark symbol for those few who can see past the magic. A warning of what lies ahead.

 I’m raised into the air just a foot, only I can smell the leather, the sweat and the strain we are under. I feel the taut wire cutting into my flesh. But to them I am floating, the master of all. I survey the demon incubus taking this girl through a journey. I smile beatifically at this group, consumed by the character I portray. They are mine