Kiss. The word itself has a sweetness, a delicacy. The hard, powerful “k” contrasted with the more sensual “ss” is separated by a vowel that requires a smile to produce the short “i” sound. The contrast of the hard and soft consonants creates a delicious combination of strong and gentle, dominant and submissive; opposites which, sexually can be a massive turn-on. For instance: leather and lace, whips and feathers, chains and silken cords, ……Goodness, I don’t think I have ever dissected a word in such a manner!
I remember my first kiss. I was 15, completely sexually inexperienced (although a dab hand at strumming) and I didn’t fancy the boy but since he made the initial move, I thought I would see what it felt like. It was the 1970s and we had just been to see the Abba movie together and when the boy, who was eighteen, put his tongue in my mouth, I wondered what all the fuss was about. This kiss didn't do a thing for me; not even the slightest clit tingle. Disappointing really. It was my second kiss, just a year later, with the man I fell in love with, that made me realise what I had been missing. On this occasion, we were sitting in his car, and I had eaten something that didn’t agree with me and just been sick. Not exactly romantic. So, full marks to him for overlooking that. And then he kissed me. And I was floating, flying, transported to another world. Absolute bliss. When I got home I was certain that everyone in the house would know I'd just been kissed, as if it must have been written all over my face.
So, to a kissing scene in Second Helpings. I realise now that I don’t often write prolonged kissing scenes, which kind of surprises me. I called my first collection of BDSM erotica Kissing Velvet, based on the one of the character’s descriptions of whipping his lover, the “kiss” being the contact the whip made with her “velvet” skin. My publishing imprint is called Velvet Kiss. I wrote an intense paranormal love story called Crimson Kisses. Clearly, it has significance for me, as a person and as a writer. But for me, the erotic quality of a kiss comes from the many different forms it can take, from a gentle, lingering trail of tiny butterfly kisses from the nape of the neck all the way down to the toes, the ravenous tongue play of frenzied passion to the sting of leather tendrils on tender white flesh. Yes please!
The extract from Second Helpings is from my short story Two Hearts, and picks up shortly after the randy Lucy, searching for her lost earring in the graveyard, encounters a rather attractive gravedigger who promises to help her.
His eyes lingered. ‘Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?’
I shook my head. ‘No. Why?’
‘Would you do me a favour?’
I shrugged. ‘I might. What do you want?’
‘See that shed over there?’ He pointed to what looked like a workman’s hut a short walk away. ‘I’ve got a flask of coffee for later on, but I could do with a drink now. Would you mind nipping over and getting it for me? Save me having to down tools.’
Five minutes later, I was still bent over, my tight black pencil skirt riding up, as I searched in his hut for the damned flask, which wasn’t where he said it would be. As I turned to call over to him, I became aware of a presence hovering in the doorway.
‘Sorry, love, I forgot I had it with me all the time,’ he said, not sounding in the least bit sorry. He’d taken his tee shirt off and I could feel the heat radiating from him. ‘Thought I’d better change my shirt,’ he explained. ‘I’m all hot and sweaty.’
For a moment we just stared at each other. I felt my damned hormones kicking in again and a familiar tingle in my groin as I read desire in his clear blue eyes.
‘Go ahead,’ I muttered, my voice thick with lust.
He stepped forward and I could feel his breath on my face, hear his heart pounding. He lifted one arm and tenderly ran his fingers down the side of my cheek. I trembled.
‘Is it hot in here, or am I imagining it?’ he asked suddenly.
‘It’s hot,’ I replied. ‘Red hot.’
Gently, he brushed his lips against my forehead and once again my common sense dissolved. ‘You’re not married, are you?’ I heard myself say.
He shook his head. ‘Never met the right woman.’
We kissed slowly at first, as he slipped my suit jacket from my shoulders and unbuttoned my lilac blouse, his hands finding my erect nipples pushing at the thin fabric of my lacy bra. He wrapped his fingers around mine and guided my hands towards his cock, which was rigid. I started to rub up and down - carefully, unhurried - while he smothered my mouth with his own, his tongue darting and exploring.
‘Lie down,’ he whispered, lowering me gently on to the floor of the hut. Crouching above me, he started to nibble my neck and my ear lobes, while his hand explored the welcoming place between my legs.
‘God, you’re oozing,’ he said, smiling.
My legs were wide open now and I knew my knickers were soaking. ‘Lick me,’ I pleaded.
‘Oh, I’m going to,’ he replied. “I’m going to eat you up. I’m very, very hungry.....’
Surely everyone deserves a second chance? Second Helpings: Three sexy stories. Quirky, romantic erotica with a twist.
Words and Actions
Alys’s drunken one night stand with an ex-boyfriend puts her relationship with her beloved partner Lee in jeopardy, leaving her desperate to put things right. On the way to a party, their car breaks down in the middle of nowhere on a dark and stormy night and Lee’s unexpected behaviour is both surprising and arousing….
Lucy knows deep down that her passionate affair with married businessman Callum is going nowhere, but when he suggests an erotic encounter in a graveyard, what happens next leads Lucy to a sexy stranger who may be the one to find her heart.
Shannon and Jay’s sex life has taken a nose dive so Shannon decides it’s time to spice things up. But an invitation to dinner with Jay’s sophisticated parents leads to an evening full of raunchy surprises – and a life changing decision.
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