Wicked Wednesday Reads: Multi-Orgasmic Vol 2
Happy Wednesday, darlings! Today I’m here with Lucy Felthouse and her hot new romance short story collection Multi-Orgasmic Vol 2., now available from all online vendors of romance. Take it away, Lucy!
If you’re a fan of erotic short stories, then get your hands on this collection from the pen of award-winning erotica author Lucy Felthouse.
From famous movie stars to sexy farmers, holiday flings to seducing delivery drivers, and even unusual household items being used as bondage, this book has variety galore. It’s sure to get you hot under the collar and eager to turn just one more page.
Enjoy nineteen titillating tales, over 54,000 words of naughtiness packed into one steamy read.
Please note: Many of the stories in this book have been previously published in anthologies, as standalones, and online, but three are brand new and never seen before!
“Yvette!” Jack snapped. “Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”
“Yes, Sir!” I’d only missed a bit. Maybe a couple of words. And it wasn’t my fault.
“So what’s the problem? Are you uncomfortable? Would you like a cushion?”
“No, Sir. I’m fine, thank you. It’s just…” As another noise filtered in through the double glazing, I was unable to stop my gaze slipping in that direction.
“What—?” Jack strode past me, all stompy and masterful.
I allowed myself a shiver of pleasure at his demeanour. He was sexy when he was grumpy, though naturally I didn’t enjoy it when he was grumpy with me.
He peered out the window to see what had distracted me. “Neighbour is mowing his lawn, that’s all. Can’t very well go around there and complain about that, can I?” he muttered.
Jack stepped back in front of me. “The window is closed, Yvette. I can’t really do any more than that.” He shrugged.
“It’s okay, Sir. He’ll be done soon. I can ignore it. It’s not that loud.” Ever since he’d given me that look and ordered me into the bedroom, my pussy had ached, and I had yearned for his orders, to do his bidding. To please him. I certainly didn’t want to displease him by allowing the next-door-bloody-neighbour’s garden maintenance to get in the way of our scene, but it’d be tough to remain entirely focused with that racket going on.
“Hmm. All right, then. Let’s continue. So, where were we?”
I hoped like hell that was a rhetorical question, because I’d been distracted enough by the noise outside that I hadn’t, in fact, heard all of what he’d said. I bowed my head and waited, mentally keeping my fingers crossed that Jack would answer his own question. Luckily for me, he did.
“Come here, take out my cock, and suck it.”
“Yes, Sir!” I almost got carpet burns on my knees as I eagerly shuffled forward. I reached out and undid his zipper. Slipping my right hand through the gap, I manoeuvred until my fingers closed around his shaft—which was rigid, red hot, and irresistible.
Carefully, I popped his cock out through the opening in his boxers and trousers, where it stood proudly, looking just as irresistible as it felt. All purple and swollen; raring to go. Licking my lips, I pumped my fist up and down his length a couple of times, before closing my mouth around his glans. Immediately, the delicious musky, salty taste of him hit my taste buds and I hummed happily and prepared to start sinking further onto him.
Just then, a high-pitched roaring sound reached my ears.
Jack picked up on my flinch. Stepping back—and slipping his dick out of my mouth in the process—he exclaimed, “Oh, for heaven’s sake! It’s really distracting you, isn’t it?”
I sat back on my heels and pouted. “I’m sorry, Sir! I can’t not hear. If I could switch my ears off, trust me, I would.”
Jack’s expression softened. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s just… kinda ruining what we’ve got going on here.”
I bit my lip. “Yeah, I know. But what are we supposed to do about it?”
Where to Buy
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks | Smashwords
About the Author
Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and The Heiress’s Harem series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Join her Facebook group for exclusive cover reveals, sneak peeks and more! Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter here: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter
Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.
Marvelous Monday Reads: High-Risk Fever
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, darlings! Today I’m featuring Lea Bronsen and the re-release of her smouldering menage erotica tale High-Risk Fever. Take it away, Lea!
Two young and indecently handsome bicyclists visit a village in the French Alps during the summer holidays. Forced by a raging storm to spend the night at the local bed & breakfast, they invade the quiet lives of hostess Anne and her husband, Brian.
A power outage plunges the foursome into darkness, encouraging new liaisons to form, life-long secrets to be unveiled, and steamy lessons to be learned. But once the storm moves on, can the four find a balance and resume their normal lives?
**Note: This is the Second Edition of the book previously published in 2014, with a new cover and an additional hot and super emotional chapter**
Confident she was invisible in her dark corner of the living room, Anne silently descended the stairs one after the other with steps as soft as cat paws. At the bottom, she bent her head to see the scene unfolding at the other side.
Atop the coffee table, a white candle burned next to a bottle and a glass, creating a romantic atmosphere. Behind the swirling flame, the two young bicyclists sat close together on the bordeaux couch, dressed in pullovers and sweatpants, entangled. Gentle candlelight caressed their smiling faces as they stared into each other’s eyes, murmuring words Anne couldn’t hear, and…uh…kissing.
The truth hit her like a slap in the face. So that explained Todd’s hostile behavior in the kitchen, when she was talking to his lover, apparently. He thought Micaela was hitting on her!
Well, he had been.
An array of contradictory feelings assaulted her. She closed her eyes and sat on the stair. This was voyeurism, secretly witnessing two people’s intimacy. Jealousy and deceit, too, as a little earlier, she was the one Micaela attempted to seduce. That, and shock, because she had never before seen two men—
Low moans made her open her eyes again.
The guys were sharing wet, open-mouthed kisses, and fondling each other’s chests and stomachs beneath the pullovers.
Whispering something into Micaela’s ear, Todd snuck a hand down to his own pants, leaned back, and pulled out his fully erect cock.
Anne stared in disbelief. This was getting seriously pornographic!
Smiling, Micaela moved a hand to Todd’s huge erection, grabbed it at the base, and leaned forward until close enough to touch its head with his half-open lips. His long, black locks slid down his shoulders, glowing in the soft light.
With a guttural sound of excitement, Todd closed his eyes, moved his hand to the other man’s shoulder, and stroked him.
Micaela opened his mouth and licked the tip of the thick shaft, letting his tongue glide around in playful circles before taking the length deep into his throat.
In response, Todd threw his blond head back against the couch, arched eager hips to meet Micaela’s sucking, and groaned. “Oh fuck, man.” He laughed.
Paralyzed, Anne blinked before shaking from her daze. She couldn’t watch this strictly private moment between two other people. Besides, at any moment, Todd could open his eyes and notice her sitting on the stairs. Then, what?
Encouraging his lover with his hand, Todd laughed again, and gasped.
All right, let’s get out of here.
Careful not to make any abrupt movements, she stood and retreated up the wooden steps, holding her breath—but the next stair gave a small, treacherous creak under her weight.
The sound sent icy fear through her from top to toe, and the hair on her neck stood. She imagined the clank echoing between walls in the darkened living room. Frozen, she held her breath and tried to detect any sound above the heavy rain hitting the asphalt outside. A voice, a gasp of shock, something.
But, no, complete silence lingered behind her.
Maybe they hadn’t heard the noise, and she could walk up the stairs pretending nothing had happened. Or….
Curiosity gnawed at her. She needed to look, wanted to know for sure.
Inch by inch, she turned, careful not to make the step squeak again. She bent her knees to see underneath the ceiling and gazed at the guys on the couch.
Behind the dancing candlelight, Todd’s emerald eyes were wide and set on her.
Her heart jumped.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She loathed it, loathed herself.
Meanwhile, Micaela’s head kept bobbing up and down in his lover’s lap, oblivious to her gaze.
Nausea tightened her stomach as she stared, holding Todd’s look. Sweat formed under her armpits, and cold droplets glided down her torso, meeting the waistband of her pants.
She couldn’t define what his steady, intelligent eyes were stating. In the dark, the flickering candle flame reflected his pupils, but he didn’t blink once. Maybe he just didn’t mind her seeing him getting sucked by another man.
She needed to leave.
The same moment she made up her mind to turn around, he threw his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. A long groan of pleasure escaped his parted lips. Arching his whole body, he grabbed a fistful of Micaela’s long, black hair and yanked backward.
The Italian gave a throaty chuckle, but didn’t stop. As if encouraged, he moved his hand from the base of Todd’s erection to beneath the waistband and inside his pants. Though she couldn’t see him, she knew he was cupping Todd’s balls and fondling them, all the while expertly working his lips and mouth on the hard cock.
Pulling harder at Micaela’s hair, Todd grimaced and began to groan in rhythm.
His imminent release transfixed her. Heat filled her lower stomach.
She swayed on the stairs and leaned against the wall to steady herself.
Micaela brought his other hand to Todd’s engorged cock. With a playful grin, he withdrew his mouth and kept it open above the tip while giving it short, vigorous strokes.
A few more seconds of pumping, and then came his reward. Todd pressed his hips upward with a growl, and long rushes of thick white liquid ejaculated from his cock into Micaela’s open mouth. As he swallowed, more semen ran down alongside the cock’s head and over his fingers, glistening in the candlelight.
Growling a last time, Todd let go of his lover’s hair and covered his grimacing face with trembling hands. “Oh, my fucking God.” He breathed hard.
Where to Buy
Books2Read | Amazon.com | Amazon.uk | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Apple iTunes | Smashwords
Get the print edition on Amazon
Add the book to your shelf on Goodreads
See photos that inspired me to write the book on Pinterest
About the Author
Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance.
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon | Pinterest
Fabulous Friday Reads: Xmas Spouse Swap
Happy holidays! Let’s kick off the holiday weekend with H.K. Carlton’s steamy new holiday erotica story, Xmas Spouse Swap, now available from eXtasy Books and other purveyors of fine online fiction. Take it away, H.K.!
Thank you so much for hosting today. I’d like to wish you and your readers a Happy Holiday filled with all the Blessings of the Season.
Today, I’ve brought along, twins Siri and Iris, who decide to give their husbands the ultimate gift — a festive spouse swap.
If you decide to give this story a read and you enjoy it—and I hope you do—you might be interested to know, I’m working on a sequel.
Meet the twins who take share and share alike to a whole new level…
Separated at the age of sixteen by selfish battling parents going through a bitter divorce, twin sisters Iris and Siri Beaulieu vow to never be apart on Christmas Eve, which is also their birthday.
Now grown and married and perhaps a bit bored with their husbands, the twins decide to give each other the ultimate birthday present by switching identities.
And one tipsy Christmas Eve leads to a twin swap the husbands will never forget.
Although it’s been done, many times, many ways … Merry Christmas to you!
“So it’s finally happened to you, too. Your little routine has turned blah. You wanna spice things up a little. Just like I do.”
“Not like that, I don’t.”
“You can’t keep your eyes off of my husband, Iris. I’m not blind. And that blush when you and Kyle first arrived, I mean, come on.”
“My cheeks were merely rosy from the cold,” Iris lied.
“Are we going to decorate that poor tree over there, or what, ladies?” Kyle asked when the wood in the fireplace finally lit.
“Absolutely, you guys get started,” Siri said.
“Oh, I get it, this is going to be like last year, and you’ll both sit back here, drink wine and ogle the man-candy? I see. It’s cool. Some guys would find it demeaning.” Kyle lifted up his t-shirt and flashed them his abs. “I, for one, have zero hang-ups about the former Beaulieu sisters seeing me as nothing more than a piece of meat. Prime rib, right here, ladies.”
“You call that prime?” Brett snorted. “More like ground round. Now, this… this is Grade A!” The generally more reserved man shocked the shit out of Iris by raising the hem of his cream-colored fishermen’s sweater giving them a little tease of the hidden six-pack beneath.
Spontaneously, Iris gasped. Brett’s gaze flew to hers.
Shit! Had she made that noise out loud? For the second time, her cheeks flamed with heat.
Quickly, Iris averted her attention but made the mistake of making eye contact with her sister, who let out an evil chuckle if she’d ever heard one.
Siri swirled her wine around her glass and grinned. “Interested in swapping now, sista-mine?”
Where to Buy
eXtasy Books | Coming soon to Amazon and other vendors
About the Author
H.K. Carlton is a multi-published Canadian author of romance and its varied sub-genres. From naughty to nice, historical to contemporary, time travel to space travel, and everything in between.
Variety is creativity’s playground—It’s where you’ll find me.
Pick a Genre Already | Pick a Genre | Breaking Genre | Twitter | Facebook (timeline)
Facebook (author page) | The Always Cambridge Series | Goodreads | Pinterest | Amazon
Wicked Wednesday Reads: Testing Tom #erotica #romance #bdsm #femdom
Whee, it’s Wednesday! Never fear, for today I’m here with Lucky Felthouse and her smouldering new femdom erotic romance Testing Tom, now available from Evernight Publishing and other online purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Lucy!
When Katrina’s ex, Tom, turns up on her doorstep, he’s literally the last person she was expecting to see. After dumping her and running off with a vanilla chick, Tom broke the Domme’s heart and left her seriously hurting. So when he returns, begging for another chance, Katrina is understandably very confused and protective of her bruised feelings. She finds it very difficult to believe that he’s turned his back on a vanilla lifestyle for good and wants to be with her, a professional dominatrix. Rather than letting her head or her heart figure out what to do, whether to forgive him, she decides to put Tom through a series of challenges that will prove his devotion to her—or not. Testing Tom is not something she’d ever expected she’d have to do, but to her, it’s the only way she can be sure whether he’s back for good.
This is a previously published work. It has been edited for Evernight Publishing.
Katrina was halfway through an episode of her favorite drama series when her doorbell rang. She jumped, gasping as her heart lurched painfully, then pressed ‘pause’ on the remote control. Wincing slightly as she unfolded her legs from beneath her bottom—she’d been watching the program back-to-back for a couple of hours and she was stiff—she moved to the window and peered out through a gap in the curtains, careful not to let the mystery visitor see her, should she need to ignore them. Cold callers were common in her area, and drove her crazy. If she wanted to buy something, she’d contact them, not the other way around.
As it happened, it wasn’t a salesperson. She ducked back from the window, clenched her hands into fists.
“What the fuck is he doing here?”
He was literally the last person she’d expected to see standing at her door. Prince William or George Clooney would have been less of a shock.
For there, outside her house, stood the man that had broken her heart several months ago. Thomas Black. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since, and now, totally out of the blue, he’d turned up.
Katrina contemplated ignoring him, going back to her show and pretending she wasn’t in. But apparently that wasn’t an option.
“I know you’re there, Katrina,” he yelled through the letterbox, “your car is on the drive, and I can see the glow of the telly through the curtains.”
Katrina decided it was time to get thicker curtains. Not wanting to cause a scene, which her nosey neighbors would no doubt adore, she moved to the front door, unlocked it and flung it open.
“Get in,” she said, quickly closing the door behind him, then turning to face her unwanted visitor. “What the hell do you want?”
He held his hands up in supplication, then spoke. “Look, I know I’m probably the last person you expected to see—wanted to see—but I have to talk to you. Please?”
He adopted the puppy-dog look he’d long-since perfected. Katrina sighed.
“You’ve got five minutes. Sit down.”
They moved over to the sitting area, and Katrina deliberately sat in the chair, so Tom couldn’t sit next to her. Settling onto the end of the sofa nearest to her, he clasped his hands together, presumably to summon his courage, and began.
“Kat, I’m here to say I’m sorry, all right? I was wrong, so wrong, to finish with you the way I did and go off with Alicia.”
“She dumped you, has she?” Katrina clenched her teeth, and felt the rage beginning to build inside her. If Tom thought he could come running back to her because his bimbo had ditched him, then he had another think coming.
“No,” he said firmly, and, she suspected, honestly. “I finished with her, actually. When I realized that I wasn’t happy with her. She never made me feel the way you do, Kat. Not once. And I know, I know it’s my fault. I wanted something… different from what we had, or at least I thought I did. I couldn’t help thinking at the time that what we did was wrong, was weird. Abnormal, even. So when Alicia started flirting with me at work, I started thinking perhaps I should try for something normal. Like everybody else out there.”
He fixed her with his soulful gaze, and continued. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Yes, Alicia offered me normality, a vanilla relationship, but I soon discovered it couldn’t satisfy me. Sure, she could make me come in all the usual ways—”
“Ugh, I don’t want to hear this, Tom. I don’t want to hear about your sex life with someone else!”
“Sorry, Kat. Please, just let me finish?”
When she gave a curt nod, he carried on speaking.
“Alicia could make me come in all the usual ways—I am just a man, after all—but it wasn’t the same. Wasn’t as good. It wasn’t long before I started to miss you, miss what we had together, both in and out of the bedroom. I ignored it for as long as I could, forced myself to make the effort with Alicia, but it just got to the stage where I couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t ignore what I was, what I enjoyed, what I needed. And that’s you, Kat. I need you, and everything that goes with you.”
As a Domme, Katrina had become an expert in hiding her feelings, whether she was aroused, angry, happy, sad… it was all stuffed behind a stern facial expression. Now, though, she almost faltered. When Tom had left her, she’d remained cool and silent until the door had slammed. Then she’d broken down. She’d been deeply in love with him, and his decision had left her devastated. Months down the line, her love for him hadn’t faded, not one bit, and the fact that he was here, right now, apparently trying to get her back, was something she’d never expected. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or throw something at him.
She didn’t do any of those things. She kept her face straight, her thoughts whizzing through her head at a hundred miles per hour. Eventually, after letting him squirm in his seat for a minute or so, she replied. “So what exactly are you saying, Tom? What do you want?” She knew the answer, but she wanted to make him suffer, the way he had done to her after ditching her for something, someone, that could never satisfy him.
Where to Buy
All Romance eBooks
About Lucy Felthouse
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
Well, the writing is obviously on the wall
While I’ve been wasting my time writing smouldering man-on-man (-on-man) stories with fantasy or SF twists, I obviously should have been following Andrew Shaffer’s advice to search for something that no one is having relations with (although I object to his inclusion of a centaur in Step One, especially since Chiron will be getting it on in Olympic Cove Book Six — but I digress), then write erotica about it.
But Christie Sims and Alara Branwen have beaten me to the dinosaur erotica, damn their eyes. So after much thought, I have decided to write igneous rock erotica. My first masterpiece is entitled “Basalt Desires,” and I have included the opening lines below for your enjoyment. No, don’t thank me — I live to serve.
Geologist Aurora Bates threw her long brunette hair over her shapely shoulders as she stomped away from the hotel where the American Geological Union’s annual shindig was being thrown. Her ass ached from all the improper pinching she’d received from her male “colleagues,” and the fact that she was marching furiously into twilit rocky desert in naught but a fetching wraparound dress and four inch Louboutins didn’t dawn on her until one slender stiletto heel caught in a rock crack and snapped loudly, pitching her forward.
“Oh, crickets!” she shouted as she fell, fully expecting to go curvacious ass over lush breasts into one of the rock-choked gullies. But suddenly she stopped, as if two arms had suddenly burst from the ground and halted her fall.
She looked down, and flushed. Two arms had suddenly burst from the ground and halted her fall. Hello, carbon based lifeform, a deep, rough voice rumbled in her head. The voice sounded remarkably like a certain actor she had a crush on, and she could feel her womanly cleft grow moist at the sound. We don’t get many of your type out here at night. It’s not really safe for soft things like you.
“Oh, really?” Aurora sniffed, unwilling to be dissed by what appeared to be a pair of disembodied basalt limbs. “Well, I’ll have you know that I’m an independent woman and a geologist, and I can go wherever I like, Mister…”
Call me Ignis. Or Master, if you prefer. The arms suddenly wrapped around her, tugging her down. She tried to scream but choked as the ground crumbled beneath her, tumbling her into a pitch-black hole in the earth…
Storm Season is almost done
Sixteen chapters down, two to go, and then I write the query letter and send it off. And it has been a most educational experience, editing a novel. I’ve finished novels before, mind you, but this is the first time I’ve ever managed to get through editing one and whipping it into submission shape. I may have to pull out those two finished novels and put them through the same process, once blood has returned to my butt and my fingers stop screaming at me.
Things what I learned whilst editing my novel:
- After realizing that I’d unconsciously followed the three act format, I learned that somehow much of Act Two wound up in Act Three and had to be transplanted. I then had to rewrite a good 40% of Act Three because what was left was so patchy as to be almost unusable. That being said, my Act Two freaking well rocks — no slow middle third of the novel here, nosiree.
- If I have a magical tattoo show up on my MCs in Act One, I kinda have to make it do something useful by Act Three.
- Not many M/M/M erotic romances also contain references to Greek gods, genetic engineering, nanotech, and Alan Turing. Go me!
- One person commented on my short story “Tied With a Bow” that the menage relationship came together too easily and cleanly. That does not happen here by a long shot, hoo boy. If I can put my boys through the wringer, I do. I’m surprised they don’t hate me by now.
- If I sit for too long, my middle back muscles knot up like a bitch. There’s a reason why I own a treadmill, and I really need to use it more often.
- I need to find better ways to pull my brain out of fifth gear so that I can get to sleep at night instead of staring at the ceiling thinking, “Wait, did I remember to add that backstory? Is that going to work or is it an infodump? Maybe if I just use more character motivation…”
Soon, my precious. Soooooon…
Just found out from Evernight Publishing that they bought “Tied With a Bow” for their Christmas Manlove antho! More details when I get them, but this will become a must-buy item on all your Christmas shopping lists, sweeties!
Preview from the current WIP (working title Touched By the Sea)
NOTE: This section is most definitely NSFW and includes an NC-17 M/M/M scene. You have been warned.
He was floating in warm water. His eyes were closed, but he could see the red-tinged glow of the sun through the thin skin of his eyelids. He knew if he opened them now, everything would appear whitewashed, almost dreamlike. He just wanted to lie back, float away, never come back–
A hand trailed along his arm, across his body, coming to rest inches away from his cock, which started to thicken in anticipation. Greg sighed at the sensation. He wanted the hand to move down, play with him, stroke him. Make him come so hard he’d scream.
A chuckle. “All in good time, beloved,” a soft baritone murmured. Greg smiled at that, trusting the promise in his lover’s voice.
Another hand crept up between his legs, cradling his sac, rolling his balls in what felt like a broad palm. He let his head be tipped back, water gently rising into his hair, and lips brushed against his, gently, then with more intent.
He gave into the kiss, licking into his unseen lover’s mouth greedily. Warm lips sealed against his, the foreign tongue mapping out the interior of Greg’s mouth as if taking ownership.
Unexpectedly, he felt another mouth on his cock, making him moan in surprise. A playful tongue teased the bundle of nerves just under Greg’s cockhead, licking further down the shaft, pausing just long enough to lap at his balls before coming back up again to wrap around the tip. What felt like a luscious set of lips tightened around his cock, then, suction increasing as the mouth began to move up and down in a sure, stroking motion that made Greg squirm with need.
As if one lover devouring his mouth and another his cock weren’t enough, someone’s fingers were now circling his nipples, gently tweaking them. He whimpered, torn between all the sensations.
“So responsive,” the baritone purred. “You’re beautiful, beloved.”
The mouth on his cock disappeared, replaced by a hand. “Not to mention delicious,” said a lighter tenor, chuckling. “We’ve searched for you for such a long time, Gregory.”
Two men. Eyes still closed, Greg gently struggled in their embrace, just so that he could feel their bodies against his. He hadn’t had sex with a man in over twelve years, and he’d never had two men at the same time. Anna had teased him about that, joking that he needed two big, strong lovers to sate his appetite–
Anna. The memory of his late wife seemed to bring a cloud over the sun, as the bright light beating down on him dimmed.
“You’ve mourned her for so long, beloved. Let us take away the pain. Let us love you,” the baritone said, before his mouth came down on Greg’s again, tongue eagerly sliding between his lips. Blindly, he sucked at it, listening to the other man groan at the sensation.
His other lover went back to work, one hand wrapped around the base as he suckled Greg’s cock greedily. The friction grew, hot and electric, reaching down into Greg’s balls and spine.
The man sensed this and shifted attention, sucking and licking the plummy head of Greg’s cock like a piece of candy while his hand sped up and down the shaft in fast, firm strokes. A tongue (so long, Greg thought dazedly, no one could have a tongue that long) dipped into his slit, tasting the precome there, then swirled under the ridge oh so nicely.
It was the last bit he needed. Greg screamed into the baritone’s mouth, arching his back as the orgasm punched from deep within, roaring through his balls and out his cock in a creamy gush. The tenor sucked eagerly, taking what Greg gave him, swallowing every drop and soundlessly begging for more–
Greg woke up with a gasp, staring blindly at the bedroom ceiling as he came. One hand was already under the waistband of his boxers, roughly stroking his spurting cock. It wasn’t nearly as good as the sensation of his dream lover’s mouth, but he groaned as he pumped out the last few dribbles of come, feeling it soak into his pubes.
“Fuck,” he panted, tilting his head back into the hot pillow. The endorphins faded a bit, bringing a bitter, self-mocking amusement in their wake. This was absolutely fucking ridiculous. Yes, he hadn’t had sex in over a year, but he masturbated often enough to take care of his needs. No 36-year-old man should be having wet dreams like this.
He grimaced at the sticky sensation. It didn’t help that it was the hottest wet dream he’d ever had. Grunting, he wriggled the boxers down, yanking them off and wiping at the mess matting his pubic hair. No help for it — he needed a shower.
Gracious, I’m here!
Hello, duckies! If we haven’t come across each other in a Starbucks before, my name is Nicola Cameron, and I write erotic romance (or as it’s known in some rather dreary corners, “Mommy porn.” Excuse me while I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh noisily). Call it what you like, but I adore writing it. A warning, though — I’m not a strict M/F writer. In fact, the erotic ecofantasy series I’m currently working on has two M/M/M books, two M/M/F books, and one M/M/M/F/F book in it (what can I say — “the more, the merrier” is fun to write!)
I’ll be advertising my latest publications here and talking about my works in progress. Thanks for dropping in!