Monday, June 30, 2008
Today for the MSA blog, I'm taking a different route and amusing everyone with some humor. Writing this from very wet Orlando FL. tends to inspire. And as I do, I will share an adventure that will amuse a good majority of everyone.
Now this trips starts at 9am in Dallas Texas when the love of my life says "Hon, I have to go in early into school." I mumbled and nodded into the sheets and drifted back to sleep thinking of hot men,how to weave plot lines with them, and the uncanny feeling that my love probably snuck in a request I dont know of and I just agreed to it.
Now La-la Land or Never-Ever-There, as I call it, is a great place to visit. Not only do I get to dream of a very hot Hugh Jackman bending down and flexing those gorgeous pecs of his while reaching for something that I truly don't need but some reason I can't remember what in the world it was. As he does so he stops and says, "My it's hot out here, let me take off my pants." Why? Cause I'm sure it happens in any great dream a woman has. So finally the dream ends, because if it didn't I sure as spitfire know I am not going to sleep in that alternate reality.
Well I get up do the usual routine and get ready for my plane ride. There's a tradition when it comes to packing and getting ready for the plane. Somehow when you get to the terminal everyone prepares for the mental battle they will wage with the Airline Ticket Counter, Security Checkpoint people, and best yet random people who will come into contact with you. All of this is mentally taxing but some what fun.
And this is where the plane fun (pun intended) begins.
Walking up to the terminal, I pay for my baggage. With rising fuel costs the airlines must try to pay for gas somehow. If the snacks and meals weren't enough, lol. When I make it through and take my bags for inspection, my favorite question that can throw off even the smartest of MENSA clients. "Ma'am, are you carrying anything concealed in your bag?" (Now do I tell her about the vibrator in that bag? Or do I let the nice airline lady find it on her own?)
Thinking for a second. "No ma'am, nothing concealed." But if a vibrator jumps out at you, can't help you there.
So waiting for my airplane I wonder aimlessly into book stores, reading titles just waiting for inspiration to hit me like it normally does. Well it doesn't, but that doesn't stop fate from doing a couple of funny things.
Walking to my terminal I feel a tap on my shoulder as I turn around a strange man, comes up behind me and says "Oh my god it's you!" And gives me a huge hug. There is one huge problem with this situation though. I do not know this man. He's hot as sin and decadent as chocolate loaded with two of my weaknesses blue eyes and dimples. Heavens above strike me down with lightning but I'm a sucker for the old blue eyes. As I snap to reality I ask him who he is and he says that we know each other from medical school and he calls me Abby. Second problem, last time I checked my name wasn't Abby and I would know if I was in medical school. So I tell this poor man who is now arguing with me saying that I am Abby his old friend from med school, that I'm not really Abby. I'm Mila.
Then comes the MOST embarrassing reason why he pulled me over. He's in love with Abby. So....I'm a woman that looks exactly like the one he loves. He said they were taking the same flight to Orlando.
Yeah...I'm waiting this "Abby" to show up any minute now. So I pull out ID and prove to him I'm not the woman who he thinks. Poor guy, but fate has helped and the real woman appears. And yes, she is my twin, though I never knew I had a sister, the only differences were that she has much longer hair than I, no glasses, her eyes a shade lighter. Similarity though is scary.
I get on the plane, they are in first class (THANK GOD) and I am somewhere else. Passed out on the plane ride but when I arrived humor didn't stop.
Picked up by my aunt, I'm walking to the area where she is and in not paying attention I smack into the sliding door. As this happens my love calls and says he was wondering if I had arrived safely. We talked for a while and I told him the strange incident that happened in Dallas.
The first thought out of this man's mouth is....."Really? Exactly like you? So you mean she could be your twin?" And then the fantasy that every male short of being dead has about twins. What is it with men and the twins fantasy? lol
So here I am back at the beginning writing to you about this trip. Can't wait for the trip back!!
I do know one thing though....I asked for inspiration and I got it.....for my next book.
Mila Ramos, Author of Multi-Genre Romance
Saturday, June 28, 2008
So to get this little party started, I'll share my favorite drink recipe. (The way I make it at home.) The screwing's up to you...sorry...it's kinda a rule between the hubby and me.
Wendi Darlin's SEX ON THE BEACH:
One shot of vodka
3/4 shot of peach schnapps
3/4 shot of chamborde liqueur
heavy splash of oj
heavy splash of pineapple juice
tiny splash of grenadine for color
Serve over ice and garnish with orange, pineapple and cherry if you want to.
What's your favorite summer drink?
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Friday, June 27, 2008
Yesterday over coffee with a wonderful woman I know, we were discussing business projects and she kept checking her infernal crackberry, er...I mean blackberry.
Cell phones have become the single biggest nuisance in the world, as far as I am concerned and July 1 can not come soon enough in California - the law will be hands free cell phone use whilst driving.
Anyway, I finally asked my friend what the hey was going on and she launched into this long tale of dating woe. I'll give you the short version of it.
They met, he wooed her with cute texts, as they got more involved, it was long phone conversations and sexy voicemails.
As soon as he wanted out, he was back to texting her - several days after she would send him a message.
She would call all her friends, polluting their brains for hours with advice on the best way to devise a cute text, guaranteed to bring him out of hiding and back to boning her senseless again. She would do an hour of yoga, light incense and after sessions with her unpaid shrink friends, muster up the courage to peck out these harmless words on her crackberry:
She: Hi, how are you? I miss you. Just wanted to say hi!
Four days later:
He: Fine. Busy.
What an ass, right? Unfortunately, she's not seeing the text for the trees. She has been dumped. Duped. Digitally avoided.
She was spending sleepless nights wondering if he was dead or injured...lying in a ditch moaning her name.
"No," I said. "He is not."
"He doesn't even pick up the phone when he sees my number now." Fresh tears streaked down her face.
"Hon, brace yourself. It's over."
With tears drenching her stupid crackberry, she scrolled back through three months of cute and sexy texts from him, trying to prove to me their relationship was live, not memorex...look, look how adorable he can be. I knew before she did that it was over, but now, as she backtracked their messages, she could see he was giving her not even the bare minimum.
He was giving her nothing.
For him, she was a done deal. He was off to dazzle the next dizzy dame with his digital dexterity.
"Gimme your cell phone," she insisted.
I resisted, but she was threatening to pull my pants down in public, so I handed over my cell phone as I wondered why the atmosphere at Aroma Cafe was suddenly so tense.
I noticed the entire place filled with people's maniacal thumbs wielding emotionally unstable, socially incorrect messages of love, loss and longing and my friend still got her bozo boyfriend's voicemail.
She handed back my phone and we ordered another coffee.
"Oh, my God..." my friend paled and picked up her phone.
"Who is this?" I heard him ask.
"It's me," she squeaked.
"Me? Me who?"
Then, when he realized who it was, he apologized for his gaffe saying, "I'm sorry. I didn't recognize your voice because I deleted your number from my phone."
Ooooooh....she'd been digitally deleted!
"What's he saying? That he only recognizes my voice when he sees my number?" she shrieked.
"Yes," a guy three tables down piped up.
My friend went home sobbing. She called me last night to say he'd sent her a text. Eight hours after their excrutiating phone call.
This is what he typed. Verbatim.
"I loved being with you. I'm not emotionally available right now. Forgive me."
"He wrote loved, past tense." My friend was racked with non stop tears.
Geez, I was impressed he bothered to even text her again...but then she is a very nice woman...and a well known one. He was being smart, not romantic. Is this what love has come to? That we are all numbers just one thumb away from oblivion?
I try to imagine one of my book characters digitally deleting his lover. Would Kimo ever text Lopaka: Fine. Busy?
Well no. My Phantom Lover series is about love and romance. Not digital delusions. And I can't imagine any romance reader would think this is a classy way to dispose of an unwanted relation ship. It's not the world I choose to live or dream. I prefer to engage with the person I cherish...I guess that makes me a dinosaur....
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
I've stepped onto the Merry-Go-Round again. Not that I don't like the cycle of editing, submitting, editing, line edits, post line edits, final line edits and post final line edits, it's just--sigh--boring.
I mean think about it. You spend X number of days/weeks/months slaving over a new story/book. Every emotion twisted and contorted as you battle out scene after scene with your characters, only to finish and have to go through it all over again. Only this time you have to explain your motivations for why this part needs to be kept and sobbing over parts you've been told need to be cut out. Not that I really sob over losing scenes--hiss, scream, and argue, but no real sobbing.
The editing of a book, to me, resembles a Merry-Go-Round. You get on, select your horse, or cat, or unicorn, or which ever mythical beast floats your boat, and wait for the ride to begin. Then it's up and down, and round and round, like foreplay without a climax. Fun while it's happening, but not really satisfying.
Perhaps it's just me. I love the angst and emotion and the rollercoaster ride of each new story that trips through my fertile mind, I just don't get the zing from the editing aspect that I do from the creation.
Tell me, authors, how do you feel about this particular part of our jobs? So as not to leave out the readers, I'm curious to know what you've thought a writer's life was like?
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
If you’re an 80’s child chances are you know what I’m talking about. F.R. David had one of those pop hits (“Words”) one will either love or hate. I must admit I was a huge fan. This song’s opening line goes: “Words don’t come easy to me…” – it always gave me goose bumps when I listened to it (pathetic, I know; to my credit, I was in my early teens, although I still like it a little :-D). But anyway, this blog is not about romantic or soppy music; rather, it is about – what should be – a writer’s best friend: WORDS.
Since I first started writing a long time ago (I don’t mean novels, which for me is a more recent activity, but writing anything… such as college papers, magazine articles and poetry), my fascination with learning new words grew and I made it a habit to research word usage. In more recent times, I discovered an interest in etymology. Today, I perform this process more intensely as necessary for the project I’m currently working on. It is of particular interest for me to identify the provenance of certain words because I love to write historicals. I also like to experiment with different ways to say the same thing. The dictionary and thesaurus are my best friends. I even bought pocket versions to carry around with me when I’m out and about.
Being a professional editor in my “day job”, I occasionally come across an amazing manuscript (written by a client) which leaves me in awe of the author and fills me with a drive to enhance my own act. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does it’s a great experience. I remember a book I worked on last year. It was a novella of the high-brow literary genre. As I read through it, I found so many fresh and unfamiliar words I had to open a file and save them for future reference! Some of these words may mean something mundane but would not be readily supplied by a thesaurus. The great part of it all, however—and this surprised me most—was that nonetheless the novel flowed in a way that anyone could grasp its nuances, message and direction. The words added to, rather than detracted from, the overall effect of the story. They were not cumbersome or pompous. They simply showed the author’s ability to paint a complex picture with his characterization and plot. I can see this writer going a long way in the literary world.
One site I go to every now and then to flex my word knowledge muscles is Freerice.com. This is a great place to expand one’s vocabulary. Here you’ll be given a word and asked to guess its correct meaning from a list of 3 or 4 options. Each right answer gives you 10 grains of rice which go to a hungry child somewhere in the world. Therefore, the intent is to do something good while boosting language skills.
The words given are sometimes very difficult to guess. Knowledge of any Latin language helps because the root of the word gives heavy clues as to the word’s meaning – even if the word itself is alien to us. For example, the deduced meaning of the word “alate” would be “winged”, because one may be privy to the fact that in Italian – a Latin language – “ala” means “wing”. Similarly, “cicatrix” means “scar” (bringing to mind the Italian term “cicatrice”).
There may be instances where words do not derive from a language but from a character or term devised by an author. For example, the word “rodomontade”, meaning boasting or bragging, comes from the character of Rodomonte – a creation of the Italian Renaissance poet Matteo Maria Boiardi. A “dulcinea” is an alternate term for sweetheart, and finds its origin in the name of a fictional character to be found in “Don Quixote” by Cervantes. In times past, many authors have coined new words. One of these is a very well known one: Shakespeare. Many of the words invented by this great playwright (over 1700 of them!) are very much in use today. See if you recognize any of them: lonely, dwindle, fixture, madcap, torture, Olympian, and leapfrog. (Ever heard of “leapfrog technology”?).
Neologisms are also designed by the authors and scholars of today. The 20th century has seen the birth of many new words and phrases, such as pro-life, homophobia, genocide, meritocracy, soccer mom, quark, Internet, webinar, and wardrobe malfunction, among others. Why is it important to know this? Because as authors we must be aware of our power when it comes to introducing new ideas and modes of expression into the world—through our words. In essence, we must have fun with our craft and test our own boundaries. Playing with words is an entertaining activity. How tedious would it be if authors always stuck to the conventions of style and form to ignore that incredible thing called “artistic expression” or “artistic license”? Yes, there are rules to writing and publishing but ultimately, passion through creativity wins.
Let’s go back to the subject of word etymology. There are some words we think are very modern but are, in fact, not modern at all.
Take, for example, the word “e-mail”. One would probably think such a word is not older than a couple of decades. Wrong. According to MSN Encarta columnist Anu Garg: “the first use of the word is recorded from around the time of Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)”.
Thus, Garg asks the obvious question: “What was e-mail doing at the time when there were no computers, telephones or even promises of large sums of Nigerian loot?”
And his answer is: “Well, the answer is that it was a different type of e-mail. That e-mail meant enamel, as in the glossy paint applied to metal, pottery, etc. In French, the word émailler still means "to enamel," not to send out a message using electronic mail. The word mail in electronic mail is of Germanic origin, meaning a bag.”
The study of words is to me an enthralling subject. As a child I loved to paint with water colors and acrylics but as I grew older, my passion shifted to painting with words. There's nothing else I'd rather do and as authors, I'm sure you agree with this. Alas, there is so much to learn and consider on this specific subject of words that if I had to go on I’d probably end up writing a dissertation. Knowing this, I must stop blabbering now before I risk boring you to an early death. :-D
So in conclusion, as the song “Words” goes, melody is F.R. David’s best friend because, he admits, he’s just “a music man”, not a writer. For us authors, things are the other way round. We make lyrical music (the stories we craft) with words. The beauty of it is that every author learns in different and very personal ways.
So if you’re an author I’d like to ask you: How do you set about learning new terms and ways of writing?
If you’re a reader, on the other hand, I must pose the question: How do words help you develop a connection with a book as you are reading it?
~ Angela ~
Sensual Romance with Flourish
Yahoo Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/breathtakingromance/
"Mr. & Mrs. Foster"--coming Dec 2008 at WCPT
"Mile High to Heaven"--coming Mar 2009 at WCPT
Monday, June 23, 2008
I'm on vacation, but I thought I'd toss out a blog I started several months ago. I got a lot of great feedback for it. Hope it works for you as well as it did for me. The topic?
Romantic Dates on a Shoestring Budget.
Enjoying time with the one you love doesn't have to be expensive. Jonathon and I made a New Years Resolution to spend more quality time together, but we didn't want to spend a lot of money unnecessarily. We were concerned about connecting with each other and getting closer...not about impressing each other with how expensive a date we could plan. So we sat down and did some research and found out there are a lot of fun activities that don't cost an arm and a leg.
In fact, we challenged each other. One week he plans a date, and the next week is my turn. And we can't spend more than $25.00. So far we have gone on an all day motorcycle ride (cost $3.00 for gas), spent the afternoon at a nature preserve (cost $8.00 for coffee and dessert), walked around Old Town, a fun quirky shopping area in Kissimmee ($12.00 for pizza), and bicycling and swimming in Wekiwa Springs State Park ($5.00 entrance fee). In just a month, we have drawn closer together and are really connecting in a way we never have before. Why? Because we have taken time to get to know each other again without a bunch of things in the way.
Whether you are in a new relationship, or have been married for a while like myself, you have to work at keeping a relationship alive and healthy. Taking time to just be with the other person without the distractions of kids, TV, work or even money to get in the way. It might take a little while to get in the habit, but I promise you, the rewards will be absolutely awesome!!!
So...to get you started, here are a few things you can look to do in your own town!
1. State Parks... Go online for information. Here in Florida, the websites are filled with great info to help you make your decision.
2. Nature Preserves... Different than state parks, some have a slight cost, but if you like the outdoors, these are inexpensive and the solitude is wonderful.
3. Window shopping... I hate to shop, but finding specific areas like we did in Kissimmee and just wandering is a lot of fun. Add a cup of coffee and popcorn and you have a wonderful afternoon of inexpensive enjoyment.
4. Museums... Some cost, some don't. Many have days that are inexpensive or free. Google them and find out and plan ahead.
5. Matinees or Dollar Movie Theatres... Most large towns have dollar theaters, but matinees are still a fun way of escaping. Plus, you can cuddle with your honey!
6. Extreme Date Night.. This isn't for the faint of heart.
Whatever you do...make sure you have fun. These are just some ideas, and you can add your own as you discover them. That too, is part of the fun. Working at keeping your love healthy and alive may be difficult, but as I said before...it is worth every second!
And for some great romantic dates, check out these websites. They are full of great ideas!
And one last thing...don't forget reading to each other. Laying back and listening to someone read can be a wonderful way to wile away an afternoon. The reader can have their feet or temples rubbed and you can switch off every chapter. Absolutely free AND enjoyable in every way. And if you want to read something that can get your juices flowing for a little romp, why not start with my latest release...Eyes of Fire. Adventure, love and fantasy all rolled into one. You'll love it!!!!
Take care and I'll see you next month!!!
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Wow, I bet you didn’t see that coming, did you?
Stop laughing Tess!
I believe a man’s hygiene is of the utmost importance. Even before he opens his mouth, women (several over thousands of countless polls) have indicated that they notice the way a man looks. When it comes to pubic hygiene, how many women complain about hair in their teeth?
The problem could be solved with one can of Trader Joe’s moisture shaving cream and a sharp razor.
Now if you’re a man reading this, you may be whining. Okay, men don’t whine. They complain. I should know. I’m an authority on both…You may be giving me some nonsense about how shaving your cock makes you gay. So let’s see…
Raise your hand if you’re a woman who likes to suck shaved, clean cock with NO worries whatsoever about getting hair in your teeth.
Comments will substitute for hands raised.
So what if gay men would LOVE that too? The ONLY way they’re going to know is if you walk around naked all the time.
If you’re whining about the itching, it goes away after a few days and once your skin gets used to shaving. I’d recommend an aloe based moisturizer from Kiss My Face, to help with that. Find your girlfriend/wife/affair!
Besides, since men are always going off about size, look at it this way. Shaving your cock not only increases cleanliness but without all that damn nasty hair in the way, the illusion is given that you’re bigger than you actually are!
Come on guys; tell us how many of you love a smooth, freshly shaved woman? The way they are all soft and wet after a shower and skin is just begging for fingers or tongues…wait I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s the same thing for women though.
The chance to play with an unobstructed tool will be pure enjoyment for you as well as her!
Ladies, comment back and tell us how you feel about a shaved cock. Let the world of men know that it’s okay to have good hygiene down there too! I believe that it’s essential to a man to have the best hygiene he can afford. Your chances of finding the right mate(s) will increase if you’re looking your best.
Now, I know you're all wondering HOW to shave a man's genitals huh? The BEST way is to use a SHARP razor, a CAREFUL touch and a LOT of cream *wicked grins*
Shaving cream, that is. You want one that's going be aloe based so the skin does not burn from the abrasiveness of the razor. And make sure NOT to use an aftershave! That shit burns!
Apply the area with warm to hot water to open up the pores.
If you have long thick hair, apply a bit of lather and let it sit for a few minutes. Kiss your girlfriend or something! When said few minutes has passed, the hair will be easier to cut because it'll be softer. Take a pair of scissors and trime the hair as SHORT as possible. When you are aboe to see skin, time to bring out the razor!
Rinse the razor under warm water, run it down ONE STROKE, rinse and repeast until skin is baby smooth. This will ensure that each stroke is getting the most hair AND not cluttering up the blade to cause problems in the future.
After the hair is all gone, rinse with cool water and apply moisturizing lotion to the area. You're done!
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Ellora’s Cave is planning to have their own conference in 2009 and they need to know how many readers might be interested in attending. I am attaching the important info. Please let EC know if you’d be interested.
Ellora’s Cave has decided to hold the first EC Convention (2009) in Akron, Ohio. They are looking at the following dates (all Friday-Sunday) :Sept., 18th - 20th, Sept., 25th-27th Oct., 2nd – 4th If interested in attending respond with name, address and Ph# (optional) via email to conventions@ ellorascave. com (notice that "conventions" is plural).
Friday Night – EC/CP/TLC Celebration Party
Saturday Morning – Continental BreakfastDay – WorkshopsNight – Awards Banquet**The city is working on something fun for you to do (if interested and thirsty) after the Awards Banquet.**
Sunday Morning – Continental Breakfast Afternoon – Book Fair
You are not obligated to attend just because you respond. They are trying to get an idea of how many attendees their will be so they can book the appropriate place.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
It was all about if you read romance novels or not. They decided to use the word bodice which is something that should not be reflecting of what all romance novels are.
The last results were
Do you read romance novels? * 7849 responses
Yes, yes, yes! Bodice-rippers are my ultimate escape.43%
No way. I don't touch those books.33%
Sometimes, while on vacation or at the beach.24%
(Make sure to go and vote if you haven't cast your vote)
It got people talking about the world of romance novels and what the view of romance novels is in today's society.
I don't remember the first time I read a romance novel but I know it was a long time ago. Romance novels are not what they use to be. A lot of things have changed with the times.
There is variety in the genres and the topics when it comes to romance books. You can read about pirates, sexy cops, vampires, ware wolves and so much more. Plus it's not just the men who are the hero's, woman have taken up a big step and become the main character/ heroine in today's romance novels. They have just as much power as the men do. They can do what the men can do.
When I first started to write and told people what I wrote I was surprised about the reaction that I got from some. I got the smirk and a laugh because I was writing romance.
Did I say something wrong?
What's wrong with writing romance?
Nothing......but people still have a warped view of what a romance novel is. I guess it's because of how it has been portrayed in society and media.
In this day and age why are there still people who are ashamed to admit that they read romance novels? They hide their books and cover them up. I have even seen special covers being sold for books to cover the book cover up so nobody can see what you are reading....
There is noting wrong with reading a great romance, and I'm not saying that because I write erotica and romance.
Doesn't it say something about the romance book when the majority of sales are romance novels.
I don't get it.......why make such a big deal about it....
Grab a romance novel and enjoy it....let it transport you to a different time and place, a new world that takes you away from now....Get lost in the beauty that is romance.
Seeing people read is a bonus considering the last numbers that came out showed that the number of readers of books in general was low.
I think that romance books are amazing and if you have never picked up a romance novel you should, give it a chance..You might discover that you are missing out on something wonderful. You might discover that you like what you read...
Show your love of romance books.....
So now I ask you all, what did you think about this poll that was put up?
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Killer Curves (a blurb)
by Regina Carlysle
After the death of her husband in a fiery crash, Carrie Martin Salem left the world of the racing circuit and retreated to Texas vowing to live a quiet and safe life. But old memories dig deep, leaving her longing for the friend she left behind. From the moment, J.T. Sims steps from the cab of his truck, Carrie knows it’s more than friendship she feels for the hottest racecar driver on Earth.
J.T. Sims never forgot the beautiful wife of his long-dead best friend. She’d had her time to grieve. She’d had years to pull herself together and now it was his turn, his time to reach out for the love he’s always wanted. His mission becomes convincing the pretty Texas lady that she’s strong enough to take what he’s offering. Nights of hot passion and days filled with love.
An Excerpt of Killer Curves:
Her mouth felt like warm, wet silk sliding up the heavy length of his cock. What was her name? Was it Janie? Jill? Something like that? It pissed him off that he couldn’t remember. Must’ve been the liquor.
J.T. sprawled naked in the chair and looked down at her blonde head as it moved up and down, working him. That delicious mouth swallowed his length dragging a groan from his throat. He watched his fingers clench in her hair and lay his head back as the suctioning pull of her mouth devoured him with slow strokes.
This morning when he’d finally opened his eyes, he peered at the lush, naked stranger next to him and wondered what in the hell had possessed him.
Eying the half empty bottle of scotch near his elbow, he groaned. Yep. He knew the answer to that question. Too much whiskey and too many memories had propelled him toward the woman at last night’s party. They were always around and he’d been quick to make his selection from the bevy of groupies that showed up at this kind of thing.
He felt like a shithead for not recalling her name so he improvised. “That’s it, sweetheart. Suck my cock. Just like that. Ah, yeah, that’s goooood,” he finished on a husky moan.
A low hum rose up from her throat vibrating the head then she slipped her tongue against the slit at the end and flicked rapidly. “You’ve gotta be the ‘blow job’ queen, sweet thing,” he murmured low. His balls drew up tight as the blonde groped at his sac, settled a thumb just beneath and pressed the throbbing nerve hidden there. Arching into her mouth, J.T. promised himself he’d make it up to her. The forgetting her name stuff.
It was bad of him and he only had the liquor to blame.
Despite the throbbing hangover that pulsed through his brain, the blow job was superb as she drew on his cock, milked him, stroked his tight aching balls. Almost there, he thought as her hand fisted at the base and flexed. Holy shit. “I’m coming. Hell, yeah, darlin’.”
She mewled, lapping against his hard flesh. She sucked and pulled.
J.T. felt the sensation rocket through his body, curling his toes against the Berber carpet on his living room floor. Tingles danced across his spine and over his scalp. His shout of release whipped through the air, drowning out the sound of the television in the background, shutting off his barely functioning brain for just a minute, sending him into oblivion.
When she sank against his thigh, he cupped her face and got a good look at her. Pretty, in a hard sort of way. Definitely suffering from a hangover if the bleary look in her blue eyes was any kind of indicator. Gently, he stroked a hand over her cheek and smiled.
“Hell of a way to wake up, darlin’.”
She smiled contentedly, licking her lips, as she flipped her long hair back over her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the picture showing on the plasma tv hanging on the wall. “Hey! That’s you,” she said, pointing. She sighed. “God, J.T. you’re so fucking hot.”
Classic Speed was playing. J.T. flicked his gaze to the segment he’d seen a million times over the past three years. His heart thumped hard, crashing into his ribcage. He saw the familiar shot of Mark Salem and himself at the track in full gear. Smiling teammates gearing up for the time trial at the Miami 500. The ensuing chaos as Mark’s car slammed into a retaining wall of the oval track. The ball of flame, shouts. Carrie’s face, a mask of terror and grief as, Ted Dobbs, the crew chief held her to keep her from running toward the scene of destruction. All caught on film. Saved for posterity.
Carrie. Mark’s wife.
The sight of her threatened to bring him to his knees.
“I remember her,” the blonde said in a small voice. “She’s really pretty.”
“Yeah.” Pale hair, soft-looking. J.T.’s belly clenched.
“Some of the girls were talking about her the other night.”
He had to ask. “What were they saying?” He knew. Oh yeah, a guy didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure what a pack of groupies might have to say about Mark’s wife.
Naked, she stood bold as brass and shook her head. “Said she was cold as ice in the sack and that’s why Mark took her to all the parties but always left with someone else.”
Mark had been an ass but J.T. kept it to himself. Any man who’d throw away a beautiful woman like Carrie would have to be blind and dumb as dirt. How many nights had he been witness to her embarrassment and hurt over Mark’s actions? How many nights, as the designated best friend, had he personally seen to it she’d gotten home? And every time, he’d stare into those sweet baby blues and wish she were his.
In one fluid motion, J.T. stood and reached for the jeans he’d discarded when the groupie he’d picked up the night before had sauntered naked into the room with the promise of easy sex. Suddenly, everything was just too much. The women. The booze. Trying to forget.
“Um…listen. It’s getting pretty late and I have to get some things done today,” he began, feeling like a lame ass.
“Yeah. That’s okay. I understand,” the woman said, turning toward the bedroom. “I need to be running on anyway.”
J.T. watched her go into the bedroom and spotted her purse on a chair near the foyer. Barefoot, he padded across the wide living room floor and plucked it up. Rummaging, he grunted when he found her driver’s license. He gave it a glance and tucked it away again. By the time, she came out, wearing last night’s little black dress, he felt more composed. “Last night was good, Jana. I enjoyed hanging out with you.”
Jana. Her name was Jana.
At least he was gentleman enough to address her properly after a night of wild, monkey sex and the best head he’d had in months.
She strolled up and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in. “Hey, what’s going on tonight? Want to get together? We could party.”
Hearing the sounds of racecars roaring in the background, he suddenly knew what he had to do. It was time to face that sweet little ghost from his past.
It was time to see if he still loved her more than any woman he’d ever known.
J.T. smiled and shook his head. “Can’t do it, honey. Listen, why don’t you write your number and address on that pad over there. I have to leave town and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Maybe we can hook up again when I’ve finished my business.”
But he wasn’t going to tell her that. He’d place a call to his florist and send her something. It was the least he could do.
Two hours later, he felt a little more human. A shower, shave and a handful of aspirin could do that for a guy. He placed a call to his personal assistant. “Hey, Dor, I need a favor. I’m going to be out of town for a few weeks. Want to hang out over here? Housesit for me?”
Doreen, who’d been taking care of him for years, laughed. “It’ll be like a vacation for me staying at your place. I’d do it for free but you’ll have to pay me anyway.”
He rattled off a list of things and disconnected, anxious to get on his way now that he’d made his plans. Grabbing his duffel bag, he headed through the monstrous house wondering how in the hell a poor boy from the sticks of North Carolina deserved something so fine. It was weird what people would spend their hard earned money on and fortunately for him, they paid big bucks to see him drive fast. Very, very fast.
Heading into the five car garage, his gaze skipped past the Astin Martin and the Porsche Carrera GT . Nope, the custom Harley wouldn’t do either. Decided, he tossed his duffel into the bed of his Dodge Ram double cab and climbed behind the wheel.
The silver bullet wasn’t built for speed but it was comfortable and inconspicuous. He didn’t want to deal with fans on this trip so it was best to keep things on the down-low. Low profile all the way.
J.T. Sims, former NexTrac Cup Rookie of the Year, former best friend of the world famous, now dead, Mark Salem didn’t want anything to distract him from his purpose. He was headed to the Texas Hill Country and a certain beautiful blue-eyed blonde.
He’d put off this confrontation far too long. It was time. Long past time he looked her straight in those gorgeous eyes and told her he loved her. She’d say it back, too. Eventually.
J.T. wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Don’t tell my husband, but I just bought another four ebooks from an undisclosed online site. That’s another $26 and change on the AMEX.
Good thing he doesn’t pay the bills.
I’m bad, so very bad. Not only do I shamelessly clean out used book stores and have piles and piles of paperbacks all around the house (overflowing my brand new bookcases, stacked on my bedside table, the floor, the windowsill and the two small tables beside my chair in the living room) but I’ve been adding to my electronic files. One hundred and fifty-one books and counting. I know people who have many, many more than that. I tried to limit myself. I really did. Now it’s getting out of control. I’ve even read several of those ebooks more than once in an effort to slow down my spending. It isn’t helping.
How do I justify these expenditures? Multitasking. Yup. I knit or crochet while reading ebooks on the laptop. Right now I’m trying to finish up a baby blanket planned as a gift for friends who provide a place to crash when I drive north to do some research. Reading on the computer keeps me from going brain numb from watching the kid play video games. Or watching DH’s choice of TV (usually Cops or the Military Channel).
They’re like Lay’s Potato Chips. Just one won’t do. I’m addicted. I can’t stop. I want more of that good old escapism. I want it so much I resent intrusions. Father’s Day I didn’t want to take time away from reading to go visiting. I didn’t want to fix dinner. How horrible is that? I especially didn’t want to clean house before my friend from college flies up from the Lower 48 to accompany me north on my research trip to Circle, Alaska. Hey, she gets in at 11pm and we’re on the road first thing in the morning. She’s staying at my mom’s house down the road ‘cuz I don’t really have a guest room. Who needs to clean out the office when Mom has a spare room? Just saved myself two days of cleaning. Pretty smart, eh?
But I’m already feeling the withdrawal kicking in. I won’t have time to read for the whole week that she’s here. We’ll spend most of those days on the road. See Alaska in a week. Yeah, right. But I’m taking my laptop with me. Just in case… maybe I won’t be able to sleep. I wonder how long my laptop battery will last if I only read. Think I can sneak in a book? Make her drive so I can read? Nah. I don’t think so. Even my friend is more important that my obsessive desire to read.
What the heck, we’ll have plenty of hours to chat. I just bet she’ll give me a new story line. That’s it. I’ll make her write while I dictate and drive. It will be just as much fun as reading.
Morgan Q. O’Reilly
Get Some Tonight
Available Now: FROZEN
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Have you ever wondered about romance heroines and their fathers? I have two romantic suspense novels published and two more under contract, and each heroine's father/daughter relationship is very different.
Daisy Matthews, heroine of Willow Smoke, doesn't even know who her father is. Part of her story is actually based on my great grandfather, whose last name is the source of my pen name. He didn't know who his father was, either, and suffered great shame and stigma all his life - the early 1900s - as a result. Both Daisy's history and my pen name are in his honor.
And Traci Steele has just lost her father when her story opens in Detour Ahead (forthcoming, Awe-Struck, November 2008). A hot-shot Chicago lawyer, Traci followed in her demanding father's footsteps and was in line to take over his law practice, but turned it down to devote her talents to prosecuting high profile violent crimes. Like Nancy Appleby, she wants to keep rapists off the streets.
Friday, June 13, 2008
I just read an article comparing digital books against the traditional paper back. Jeff Bezos CEO of Amazon says that books that come out in both paper and electronic forms, e-books account for 6 per cent of unit sales. It looks as if digital sales are skyrocketing.
This makes one believe that e-books will largely replace the traditional books in the near future.
Publishers Weekly reported that e-book sales are up four
times over Penguin. Penquin reported that e-book sales from the first four months of 2008 surpassed the house’s total e-book sales for all of last year. According to the publisher, the spike is "more than five times the overall growth in sales, year-on-year, through April 2008."
David Shanks, Penquin’s CEO attributed the jump, in large
part, to the growing popularity of e-book readers.
The statistics sound promising to all authors in the e-book field of publishing. I’m going to end my blog with this sentence. Sometimes patience pays off in such a large competitive industry.
Below is a copy of an adult excerpt from Flawed Angel. Flawed Angel is listed this week as one of the top ten best sellers on the eXcessica site.
Flawed Angel Adult Excerpt
Author: Mary Suzanne
Erotic Contemporary Romance
Available @ http://www.eXcessica.com
Available @ http://www.Fictionwise.com
Available @ http://www.allromanceebooks.com
When Mitchell gently placed her on the thick mattress, she could only stare up at him with a wide-eyed expression. For the longest time they held eye contact. Kelly felt as if Mitchell was sending her a message and that message was telling her how much he wanted her right then. A fleeting thought swiftly passed through her head. How could he want such a disfigured woman? As quickly as the thought filled her head, it disappeared.
One of the reasons that Kelly’s thought process began to shut down was the way he was kissing her again. She strained toward him needing to feel his possession. Kelly couldn’t get enough of how his lips ravaged hers and his tender caresses.
When his hand slowly began removing her gown, she didn’t make any protest. Needing him in that moment was the only thing filling her aroused thoughts. He was showing her in his own way that he needed to possess her and couldn’t wait another moment to make love to her. The next thing she saw was how the filmy garment she’d worn came floating past them and landed quietly on the carpeted floor. Mitchell stood up and slowly began to remove his pajama bottoms. He stood for several moments with his gaze on her body outlined against the silky sheet. Kelly couldn’t stop watching his magnificent body. He looked so strong and virile that the sight made her feel breathless. When her gaze roamed down the length of him, she stopped it purposely on his erect penis filled with desire for her.
Slowly, he joined her on the bed and his lips began kissing her smooth skin as he made his way down her body toward her open legs. When he reached her hair-covered mound, his tongue began flicking across her clitoris in rapid movements. The meaty part of her clitoris began to become more rigid under his sensual assault. She was experiencing so much pleasure she felt her legs beginning to move wildly. The moaning sound that filled the room came from her over the wondrous sensations Mitchell was making her experience. She could feel the juice beginning to flow from her vagina in her excited state.
She couldn’t stop from reaching down and running her fingers through his hair. Her exploring fingers kept up a steady movement until finding his broad shoulders. His skin felt so tight and firm beneath her fingers that she felt an even more sensuous thrill sweep through her.
It wasn’t long before Mitchell made his way up to her protruding nipples. He was kissing one nipple and then he’d switch to the other bringing heated charges to race through Kelly. As he captured the peaked nipple between his teeth and started nibbling gently, she felt on fire for him in that instant.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
I love board games- always have.. I couldn't wait until my son got old enough to play them with me. Yes, I made him a game addict as well. I enjoy buying new games and learning how to play them.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
expecting different results. "-Benjamin Franklin
So if you go by this definition we writers are totally off our rockers. I mean we send out submissions in hopes of getting a contract over and over again. Each time we get rejected, we just shake it off, and go to the next company. Granted a few of us are a bit more nutty than others, but I think we should embrace our insanity.
I mean everyone has to be a little crazy to deal with what’s going on in the world today. So use your insanity. As a writer I can go a little crazy, and let my mind go where it wants, no holding back. It just wanders around. If anyone says anything, I say I’m a writer and I’m thinking. It usually shuts them up for about five seconds. Then they start asking what I write, if it’s published then where and if I’ll sign it if they buy it. And I feel like I should’ve keep my mouth shut.
Ever feel like that? You have to start explaining everything, then they look at you like you’re a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Ah… well maybe it’s just me.
Hey I got the 100 post cool! Here are some more bumperstickers I thought were pretty neat.
Monday, June 9, 2008
I'm doing the happy dance!!!
My contemporary erotic comedy, "A Spanking Good Time", has been named an eXcessica Publishing "Top 10"!!!! I came in at number 4. Woo hoo!!! I checked the entire Top 10 to see what kinds of books are selling, and it seems that people who buy from eXcessica want hot, steaming, screeching MONKEY SEX!!!! I sure delivered some monkey sex in that story. It has a high heat rating.
So, here are the blurb and excerpt from "A Spanking Good Time". I have another spanking story coming out in my upcoming collection of short stories tentatively entitled "Summer Heat: Steamy Stories For A Hot Afternoon". I'll have about six summer-themed stories in that anthology, and I'm submitting it to eXcessica.
Here is "A Spanking Good Time" - go buy it at eXcessica or Fictionwise!!
Hot Screeching Excerpt - A Spanking Good Time
By Elizabeth Black
Published By Excessica, May 5, 2008
Word Count: 4,365
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Comedy
Heat Level: Excessica #4
Buy at eXcessica
Elliot and Alisha have been fuck buddies for about eight months. A twenty-one, Alisha's powerful sex drive exhausts forty-five year old Elliot, but he wouldn't have it any other way. She is his sexual virago, a hot woman with insatiable sexual desire. This lazy Saturday, he gets a call from her at noon, and she has some hot sex play in mind for the afternoon. What is that minx up to this time? More figging? Velvet handcuffs and an ostrich feather to tickle his nuts and drive him crazy? It could be just about anything, knowing her imagination. All that he knew was that he would not be disappointed. When she came to the door dressed in that raccoon coat, he knew to be ready for anything. Alisha's arrival meant bliss in the afternoon!
A SPANKING GOOD TIME - EXCERPT
She worked the tight muscles in his ass until he softened like butter around her curious finger. At first she was tentative, careful to not hurt him, when she slipped her finger in slowly, but soon she was in up to her second knuckle. Elliot hoped she never pulled out. He stuck his ass up in the air to better accommodate that exploring finger. My God, she made him hot! He wanted her entire finger – hell, her entire hand! – inside him. Barely able to control his rasping breath, he felt his heart pound in his chest. Blood pulsed in his neck and in his ears. He felt gloriously alive! If she kept twirling that finger inside his asshole, he would come all over the comforter, and he knew that would not make her happy.
"Do you like what Naughty Nurse Nancy is doing to you?'
"Oh, yes! Do more! Stick your finger all the way in!"
"Babe, my finger is already all the way in up to my palm. I also stuck in a second finger. I'm practically tapping your tonsils. Would you like more?'"
"Yes! Whatever you want to do, do it!"
"It's time for Naughty Nurse Nancy to take your temperature!"
She pulled her fingers out slowly. Elliot groaned, both from pleasure and from disappointment that the hot sensation of those two amazing fingers up his ass was over.
"Look what I have. You like?"
Elliot turned around to see Alisha holding what appeared to be an Alien Anal Probe in her hand. About six inches long and an obnoxious shade of purple, the thing had one huge, curved rod with two knobs on either side of the rod. His sphincter instinctively snapped shut and locked, since he knew where she intended to shove that thing.
"Don't look so shocked. You'll enjoy it. Naughty Nurse Nancy would never force anything on you, especially as far as your ass is concerned. Why do you think I warmed you up"
"It looks like it will enter my ass and exit in the next county."
"Don't be scared. I bought the smallest one, for beginners. I'll be gentle. You know that. You are going to love this contraption. It's made for your prostate. You are going to come so hard you'll spurt blood."
"Don't mention blood while making me look at that thing. It looks deadly."
"It's not. It has rave reviews, even from straight men. You trust me, don't you?"
"Of course I do."
"Then let Naughty Nurse Nancy take your temperature. She is always gentle, unless you deserve a spanking."
"And I like spankings."
"You know our safe word. If it gets to be too much, just say "Kabuki"."
"I hope I don't have to say it."
"Trust me. You won't. You'll beg for more. Are you really that nervous? I won't use it if it makes you feel that squeamish."
"I really do want to, but just looking at that thing makes me nervous. I want to try it, though. Just move verrrrrry sloooowwwwwly…"
I have always enjoyed using sex toys. At the moment, my favorite sex toy is the Pocket Rocket Booster. When I can't sleep at night, getting an orgasm from my Pocket Rocket Booster relaxes me enough so that I can get my requisite ten hours of shut-eye. I love to sleep. I used to be a light sleeper, but as I aged, I've developed the sleeping habits of a bear in hibernation. Nothing wakes me up now, which is a switch since a car backfiring four miles away used to wake me up in an instant.
I recently reviewed two anal sex toys for VibeReview, and despite a squeamish start, I enjoyed using them very much. One reason I wanted to use them is that I incorporated an anal sex toy in my short story "A Spanking Good Time". Specifically, I patterned the anal toy Alisha uses on Elliot after the Aneros Progasm, an anal sex toy that massages the prostate gland. "A Spanking Good Time" has just reached #4 on eXcessica's Top Ten list. I'm psyched!! Woo hoo!!! More on that in the next post.
I have other favorite sex toys, including the Rabbit Pearl and Silver Bullet. I think that sex toys provide a much-needed service to men and women. They feel good. They are great fun to share. They put some oomph in your sex life when you have no clue what to do for variety.
So why do sex toys get such a bad rap in the media?
I have just learned that the Oxygen TV channel will no longer carry "Talk Sex" with Sue Johanson. I have seen that show a few times, and it was very entertaining and informative. Johanson is 78, which strikes me as a great thing - showing an older woman who enjoys sex and enjoys talking about it. She reminded me of Dr. Ruth Westheimer. I have no idea why Oxygen nixed the show's return, but I will miss it.
As far as I know, there are no regions in the U. K. where sex toys are banned, unlike several southern states in the U. S. The sale of sex toys is prohibited in the state of Alabama, for instance. This law mainly applies to brick and mortar stores. I suppose that doesn't stop Alabamans from buying their sex toys online.
News reports from the U. S. described a rape case where the prosecution wanted to include the alleged rapists collection of sex toys as "evidence" that he is depraved. The judge wisely said no to that. Using sex toys does not make you a rapist or a pervert. Not only that, the accused did not use sex toys in allegedly perpetrating the crimes. Perfectly normal people enjoy using sex toys. Legal tactics such as that unfairly malign sex toys.
In another case, this one a rape and murder, a man was accused of raping and murdering his step-daughter. The prosecution tried to place the blame on the dead woman's mother, citing her collection of sex toys as "proof" that she was the one who was sex addict, not the accused. Using sex toys doesn't make you a sex addict. Where on earth do these attitudes come from?
Despite stories such as those, there were good articles about sex toys. In particular, the greening of sex toys has become popular as of late, such as making sure that modern sex toys do not contain phthalates. Bondara's sex toys are phthalate-free. Other articles described how to properly use your sex toys. I'd like to see more of those kinds of articles. The reading public deserves to see positive depictions of sex toys in the news.
All in all, sex toys help people to enjoy their sexuality more. They come in handy in erotic romantic fiction. A G-spot vibrator can help a woman find her ever elusive G-spot if she is like me and can't find the little bugger with her fingertips. I love to use erotic massage oils and flavoured body paint. Those items make sex and sensation play much more enjoyable and downright silly sometimes. As long as people like sex, they will buy sex toys. So let's see more positive depictions of sex toys in the news.
Yes ladies, the famous, or is it infamous Hollywood Madame, Heidi Fleiss, has been threatening to open a male, ladies only, whorehouse, called The Stud Farm, in an existing brothel in Lincoln County, Nevada, about eighty miles north of Las Vegas, where prostitution is legal.
I’ll admit I am dubious about the viability of this or any other male prostitute enterprise.
First of all, a man needs to get hard on demand if he’s going to perform. Could he do that if his paying customer is unattractive or even ugly? As a man I can’t see it, but with the advent of the male erection drugs, maybe it’s possible. One has to wonder, however what the effects of taking Viagra every day and sometimes more than once, would have on the long term health of these pay for sex studs.
Next, I wonder how many men could service two, three, four or more horny ladies a night.
Assuming, the erstwhile Madame has all these problems worked out, and manages to fill her stable with well built attractive prostitutes, will women embrace the concept? Will they lustily flock to in droves to get their holes plugged by total strangers even if they’re hunks?
Heidi herself believes so. “I have heard from a number of women who want to be first in line when the Stud Farm opens, including some "wealthy, beautiful women in
In a survey I came across, responses were about equal. Some said hell no, while about an equal amount said fuck yes! Here are a few of their responses:
· This is stupid. Women can get sex for free. I can’t imagine any woman having to pay for sex. Not only that, but why would we incourage women to do that anyways. There’s a little thing called pregnancy and STDs. Not to imagine self respect.
· Come on now ladies! Am I seeing right? Pay for sex? Gotta be crazy. On a personal level I don’t have the need to pay for sex. Men from different walks of life approach me every day, spoilet for choice. Men are naturally DOGS. They don’t necessarily have to find a woman attractive to wanna bump & grind. You could be big, fat, skinny, pocks in the face, there’s a man out there for every woman out there. So where’s the need to go out there & pay a man? PLEASE.
· I think it’s great. My 3 girlfriends and I are all planning to take a visit to the brothel. I would like a nice looking man for an hour. We are all married in our 40’s and our husbands have gotten fat, bald and sexually predictable and boring in the bedroom. It would be nice to have a little excitement back in our lives even if it would be for only one hour.
· Girls, don’t leave yourselves on that “women feel differently about sex then men do” shelf! Fuck that. women want sex too, and if you can pay a really good looking well hung guy to do what you want and you don’t have to call or be called, do his fuckin’ laundry or all of everything else that usually is tied up in being sexual in our culture, then i say that sounds like real sexual freedom as well as equal rights.
So Ladies I leave you with this thought. What do you make of all this? Are you a hell no’er of a fuck yes’er? Would you? Would others? Let’s hear your thoughts.
Now for some news. My highly rated, erotic romantic action thriller, Legs, was released by eXtasy Books in the middle of last month and is selling well. Check it out: http://tinyurl.com/66sru7
Also as of last week my short, rollicking, sexfeast, Bananaz was released by Excessica. Check it out:
And finally look for my next major release from BookStrand, Love and Seduction in
Is handsome, young Bobby Kramer a dream or a nightmare?
Thrust into her life one night, by peculiar circumstances, Loretta Bishop, seventeen years Bobby’s senior, has been tasked with taking the shy, modest pretty boy under her wing and turning him into a lady’s man.
Free spirited and sexually adventurous, Loretta is eminently qualified to teach him the elements of pursuit, seduction and how to please women.
At first, being with Bobby seems like a dream, but clouds begin to gather from Loretta’s spotty sometime sordid past. Feeling guilt after Bobby asks to marry her, Loretta is no longer able to continue and runs away.
Now, it’s up to Bobby to put the methods Loretta has taught him to practical use. Will he succeed and parlay his new talents into wealth, power and love?
The driver spoke. “Need a ride? Hop in. Jill, why don’t you get in back with Amy?”
Jill opened the door stepped out, smiled coyly and hopped in back. I got in and before I knew it I was being taken for a ride by… “Hi, I’m Babbet but everyone calls me Baby.” Her broad smile revealed perfect white teeth. “I’ll drop my sister and her friend off at the pajama party first, then I’ll take you wherever you want.”
I chuckled. “You’re very kind.” And hot. “Excuse me for laughing but my name is Bobby. Bobby and Baby sound a little strange together.”
Baby peeled off the shoulder like had Loretta minutes before, and the tires screeched from the traction of pavement. Looking me up and down, Baby said, “I dunno, sounds kind of promising to me.”
Baby was medium height and slight of build. She had warm brown eyes behind long lashes. Her light brown hair was tied at the top of her head, giving a fountain effect, enhanced by loose ringlets framing her pretty face.
She’s coming on to me. Do something. After Jill and Amy leave. “So how old are you, Baby?”
“I’m nineteen. I’m an education major at UNLV.”
“We have something in common. I go to UNLV also—Hotel Administration.”
After dropping the partygoers off, Baby headed back in the general direction I had been hiking. “Where to?”
“My Apartment. Drive toward Sandhill. I’ll give you directions from there.”
Baby was thinking. I heard her sigh as she took a deep breath. “You don’t have to go straight home. We could go somewhere?”
I knew it, she is coming on. I couldn’t help but smile. “Like where?”
“We could get a drink,” she said, her voice quivering slightly.
“I thought you were nineteen?”
“I have ID.” She asked hopefully? “Do you want to?”
Using her term, I said, “Sounds promising, but I better get home.”
The smile on her face morphed to consternation. “So you have a girlfriend? Is that why you do don’t want to do something?”
“My girlfriend and I have an open relationship.”
“Wow! Really? What was your fight about?”
“I called her a whore?”
Baby’s lips pursed and her eyebrows dipped. “Why, is she one?”
Studying Baby, I watched for her reaction. “Not that I know of. For some reason, I was pissed because she fucked my best friend.” Baby blanched. “Sorry about the language. I have no reason to be mad, because it happened way before I met her, yet it ticked me off.”
At my direction, she turned south on
“Turn here. That’s it. Pull over.”
She pulled in and shut the engine off. Baby half-turned toward me in her seat and lifted her right leg up, resting her foot on the console. She’d made her move; now it was my turn. Obviously the girl liked me. Should I give her a go? Why not?
Baby was wearing a red bikini, a matching floral cover up and flip-flop sandals. Not much to take off. “I want to do something with you, all right. Just not get a drink.”
She turned as red as her swimsuit. Desire and apprehension fought a battle for her facial features. Taking a deep breath, obviously nervous, she squeaked, “What then?”
She knew well. She just wanted me to say it. I leaned over the console in her direction, and my hand journeyed the two feet separating us. My forefinger flittered through one of her ringlets. She closed her eyes as the back of my hand stroked her smooth cheek.
She looked down but didn’t say anything as my fingers unbuttoned the lone fastener of her cover-up. As I pulled one flap of the garment to the side, I said, “Oh, I think you know what I want to do with you.” She closed her eyes once more. I moved the other flap of the garment. “And you want me to do it. Don’t you?”
She must have been picturing what she wanted me to do to her, because with her eyes still closed, her lips began to quiver. I quietly unzipped my fly and freed my now erect penis. I bent closer to her ear and purred. “I didn’t want to waste time getting drinks.” My fingers traveled back and forth over her quivering red lips. She closed her pretty eyes and sighed, invitingly parting her lips as she did, jutting her bottom lip out slightly. My fore and middle fingers pulled the pouty lip downward, then slid across her perfect white teeth. At the same time, I took her hand and placed it on my shaft. She jerked. She opened her eyes and yearningly gazed at it. When she parted her teeth, my fingers darted in. Her lips closed around them as they moved in and out. Breathing deeply she started moving her hand up and down my erection. I smiled when I noticed the growing wet spot on her bikini bottoms. Removing my fingers from her mouth, I pulled her top up above one of her modest-sized breasts. Her perky stand-out nipple drew my mouth like a magnet. Baby groaned when my lips alighted on her nipple and began sucking.
Now slouching leaning fully against her car door, she’d draped her nice legs across the inconvenient console and my left leg. Fingers replaced my mouth on her tit so I could concentrate on her wet pussy. She stiffened as my fingers slipped under her wet suit bottom and teased her swollen clit. I whispered, “I want to take you to my apartment and remove all of your clothing so I can ravish you. I want to stick my hardness inside you. I want you. I want to fuck you. Are you ready?”
“Oh yes, please. Take me, fuck me.”