So this is an excerpt from the paperback version of The Meeting Point, which was released almost a month ago - I haven't even tweeted about it yet - such is my capacity for being distracted by all the finery that you lovelies of the internet have to offer. But when I saw this prompt from Kayla, I couldn't resist sharing a scene from my book.
Deborah couldn't
believe what she was witnessing. From the mirrored glass balcony, she could see
three people making love in a bedroom chamber below. One was Marcus, she was
sure of it. Her skin prickled and tensed, sending electrifying currents over
her flesh. She wanted to scream and shout and bang on the glass, but she had to
hold on to her reserve with all her might.
Two women were astride a man tied to a
bed by the wrists and ankles. One riding his groin, the other, his face. Their
long hair fell about their backs as they both faced the wall, the woman behind
reaching around and massaging the other's breasts. It was the strangest
sensation. Deborah was seething so hard with jealousy that she could have torn
her own teeth out in despair, but in the ultimate betrayal of her emotions, her
pussy bucked and spasmed between her legs, aching to be touched.
Face flushed with anger and arousal,
Deborah looked along the row of women standing at the glass, all viewing her
lover being fucked by these two rich bitches as Katja would say. All of the
women had the same lust-filled expressions on their otherwise vacant faces. A
few had their hands up under their robes and rubbed themselves off slowly right
there. Deborah was indignant, even though her pussy was crying out for
attention. She tried to ignore it, but frustration was clouding her judgment.
She could feel her confused emotions pushing out all rational thought.
Maybe she should come. Clear her
hormones and her head.
She looked back at the erotic scene. The
two women looked gorgeous, writhing together on a prone male body, their faces
shining as they humped and bucked and teased and fucked.
Heat gathered and pulsed between
Deborah's legs, and she opened them a little to allow her surging clit some
air. It wouldn't take much, she thought as she squeezed her pussy walls
together, just a quick rub through her clothing and she'd be able to shake off
this lustful sex mist.
The two women were close. Eyes squeezed
shut, breasts stout and erect. The woman behind had released one of the other
woman's nipples so she could concentrate on her own. It was a horny sight to
see her roll the peaking nub in her own fingers in rhythm with her pelvic
thrusting. Deborah couldn't bear it any longer, she reached down and gathered
her clothing at her groin and parted her thighs. She was wet. Soaking and slippery,
and she wanted flesh on flesh.
Curling a finger under the rumpled
fabric, she found a way into her knickers and inhaled sharply as liquid seemed
to pour from her. The digit slipped around frantically until it found her clit.
Her body twitched at the touch, and her pussy felt gaping and empty. Going back
to the rolls of clothing, she clenched around the bundle and humped in time
with the sex show women below.
She thrust her ass forward hard and felt
her orgasm build from deep within her pussy and then up to her clit. Time and
space began to expand as the rising continued and she tried to remain tethered
to the here and now. It was too hard. Her spirit broke free just as the first wave
of climax crashed through her. She was in that space, the space of ultimate
unity, and she called to Marcus who stood there right before her with his eyes
closed.
"Marcus. Marcus. It's me, it's
me," she called frantically as her orgasm began to subside. She was almost
away when he finally opened his eyes and stared in disbelief. "Look up,
Marcus, I'm here!"
And with that, she snapped back into
place back behind the glass and watched as the woman on Marcus's face wriggled
off and he twisted his head this way and that, eyes searching up to where she
stood watching. She put her palm up as in a wave, but let it fall as his eyes
searched wildly, seeing nothing, registering no one.
Mirrored glass.
Deborah was dismayed, but took heart
that she'd made contact and he'd understood. She was sure he knew that she was
there at the farm. She kept watching as the women attended to themselves first,
leaving him to soften, exposed and vulnerable on the bed. He looked the same,
his body looked the same. But she could see he was different. He was a
submissive. Just as she had turned to dominance, so he had become subservient
to those he served.
Deborah was suddenly crying. Love and
wonder filled her heart as the two customers untied him tenderly, finally
making sure he was all right. He was. Her Marcus. And she would see him again
soon. She had no doubt of that now. She was so looking forward to the moment
where they could share their true selves once more-he dominant and she submissive,
again at last.
It touched her beyond comprehension that
they had both chosen opposite roles while they'd been apart.
Deborah let her dampened robes fall and
made ready to go to him.
There you have it!
So - if apocalyptic the-world-is-ending-but-we-can-still-fuck and sexual spiritual transcendence, is your bag, please check the trilogy out :D
I posted The Forgotten Paperback - part 1 yesterday if you'd like an excerpt from Taking Flight - the 2nd book in the trilogy - I shared as part of Sunday Snog. Honestly, if it wasn't for these memes I would barely share my writing at all! Thank you to the hosts.
Oh this sounds VERY good! Congrats on the paperback release!
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