Sunday, 28 June 2015

Mile High Pearl Necklace

On the plane ;)

See who else is being Sinful today ;)
Click that link! (It should be sexy lips but I'm on my phone today and it's proving tricky!)

X x X

Wednesday, 24 June 2015

What Makes it Erotica?

I've been chatting with authors recently about labels. Genre labels.

Why are some mainstream books that contain lots of sex not labelled erotica?

Why do I label my writing and art erotic? Or at the very least, sensual?

Well, I guess I can only speak from my point of view. I worry sometimes that labelling a piece of work 'erotic' is putting a warning on it. Why would you need to be warned about a story that contains all facets of human existence? Birth, violence, sex, death, longing, desire - all the good stuff that make up a story. Well, apart from trying to make sure only adults get hold of it, here's why I think I put the label on mine. I don't put the sex and sensuality in my tales simply because the story and characters demand it. I do it because I want it to be a sensual experience for the reader. I'm not simply trying to tell their story, I'm hoping their story will arouse you and make you desirous of the sensual.
Does that make sense? Much in the same way that authors of horror aren't just writing about horrible things to put their characters through, no, they want to scare you. They want to involve you in the fear. They are trying to elicit that response in you.

But still... why label it? A warning? Perhaps just 'adult' would suffice.
I was going to draw a conclusion but I've come full circle!

What makes a piece of work erotic?
I think it's partly what the artist intended but more importantly, how the reader/ viewer experiences it.
I draw all my pictures with a hue of the erotic in mind - same with my stories, even if there is no actual sex, there is erotic intent.

What do you think?
Here's one of my drawings that I felt was quite erotic, yet not explicit.

And here's the start of a story which I tried to make as sexy as possible without any sex. Erotica?

The Birthday Cake

I pluck one of the candles out of the thick frosting and hold it out to her, still smouldering.
“Why don't you wrap your lips around it and lick it clean?”
Her face is stony and her exasperated breath matches the look in her eyes.
“Don't be crass Quentin.”
She's been calling me my full name for the past few days. I'm still unsure of what has caused this most recent mood but it is certainly something of my doing. She does this to 'teach me a lesson' when I've been bad. I never know when or how I pass her test but we might be on the cusp tonight if I play this right.
“Oh go on,” I persevere, waving the sticky candle over the table. It hasn't escaped my notice that she didn't go to the trouble of buying those little coloured birthday candles but plumped instead for the emergency dinner ones from the bits and bobs drawer. At least she'd made a cake. That's something. An olive branch of sorts. “It would be a shame to waste this creamy celebration.”
A flicker at the corner of her mouth hints at a thaw. My groin twitches at the thought of watching her ease the sugary shaft into her pout and teasing me, undulating her tongue around and around. I can even hear the slide and pop as she pulls it out, clean and slick with her saliva. I waggle the candle again, urging her to take it from me, lifting my eyebrow in a way I hope is sexy.
She rolls her eyes but then very slowly, reaches out.
I think about snatching my hand away and making her come closer but relinquish it in favour of nurturing the fragile moment. It's time to play by her rules precisely. Her fingers hover slightly and for a moment I think she might withdraw them. I hold my breath as she takes the candle and the ice melts a little more.
I don't want to be too eager so I settle back and just watch. Her gaze meets mine and she lifts the frosting to her lips. Her pupils dilate and she shifts in her seat. Does she feel it? She must. The rigid pose softens and she smears the soft butter icing over her red, red lips easing them open with the end of the candle. It is exactly what I'd seen in my mind just a few seconds ago.
White blobs of the icing cream cling to her lips as she opens her mouth, wrapping her tongue around the candle, sucking and licking it clean. Her mouth is such a sensual thing, moving and teasing me, just as I want. My cock swells and strains in my jeans but I remain still, not wanting to break the static spell that hangs between us.

The skin at her throat blushes crimson as she sucks, pushing the candle in deeper. It is a good sign. She shifts a little and I know if I peek under the table, her legs will be parted. Lust hangs heavy on her expression now and I inhale deeply, feeling confident this is the start of something. Something to heal and shatter the chill of the past few days. I venture a hand to her knee and it yields to my touch, falling to where I push. Running my palm up her inner thigh I shudder when I feel the nylon change to lace...

There you have it - I teased you a little - that's only part of it :D

If you want to read the rest of that story it's from An Intimate Education - charity anthology raising money for Brook Advisory

I'd love to hear your thoughts on genre labelling in general, not just erotica x x x

Monday, 22 June 2015

Sinful Sunday Round up!

Just swooping by to let you know that I was the 218 Sinful Sunday Round up gal!
I got to choose 5 images from a gallery of 36 amazing images and text. It was really tough, there was many more I wanted to sneak into my five but our Molly is strict!

Here's the link to my round up
Tabitha's Top Five

If you don't have any clue what I'm talking about, Sinful Sunday is a weekely event (on Sundays ;) ) where you can post your sensually inspired photos/ images over at Molly's Daily Kiss.

Here is the very first one I entered a year ago... Click for the post
That Moment

Thursday, 11 June 2015

Lily Harlem's Toy Boy!

My gorgeous and talented friend, Lily has a new book out! Here she is to tell us all about it - I've read this woman's books and by jingo - they are hawt! x x

By Lily Harlem

Toy Boy is Lily Harlem’s sexy new release and is out now! It’s a cougar story set in beautiful Greece and tells the tale of Kay and Sullivan on their ‘first’ date. Here’s the low down…

Back cover information

Getting something unexpected can be a shock, but it can also be a wonderful treat, if you allow yourself to indulge, that is.

Kay is bubbling with excitement. She’s booked a sailing holiday of a lifetime in Greece with a man she’s fallen for hook, line and sinker. They met on the Internet. She’s from Oxford, he’s from Washington State. She’s a business lecturer, he runs his own successful business.

They’re perfect for each other, and she can’t wait to meet him and spend time in and out of his bed, allowing him to seduce her for real and not just with softly spoken words over the telephone.

But when she arrives in the idyllic port of Fiscardo, she’s in for a shock. There’s a reason Sullivan’s photographs were grainy, and it’s not because he’s sporting a potbelly or balding as she’d suspected. It’s because he’s over a decade younger than her and could rival any Greek god in the looks department. What’s more, his sex appeal and lust for her is off the scale.

Should Kay take what she can with her ‘toy boy’ and have some fun in the sun or hop on the first plane back to England? It’s a tricky decision for a woman who believed she couldn’t be surprised by life anymore. 

Buy from Totally Bound  Amazon Amazon UK and all other good ebook retailers.


My dreams were filled with blue skies, turtles and fluffy, white clouds that cradled around me, rocking me, soothing me, tilting me this way and that in a constant languid motion.
I saw Greek gods, islands rising from an aqua sea, and heard the sound of waves slicing around dolphins as they rose and fell from the water as if flying.
The images and sounds of my dreams faded, and reality broke into my consciousness. For a moment, I wondered where I was, then my foot touched the cool surface of the cabin wall, and I remembered that I was on Dolly Bird and Sullivan was sleeping up on deck.
I turned to my back and looked up at the skylight. The stars had gone, and in their place was a clear sky fractured by a length of white mast holding a taut sail.
I’d have to get up and grab a taxi to the airport.
The thought made me sad all over again. It could have been so perfect.

My body tilted slightly to the right, then upward and back down.
The water in the harbor hadn’t been this rough the night before, and judging by the  cloudless sky, it certainly didn’t seem like a storm was over us.

I sat up and braced my hands behind myself, stared at my ruby-red painted toenails. Again I was jostled, not lots, but certainly more than I’d been the night before.

I swung my legs around, exited the cabin, then stood on the rocking floor of the small
seating area. I flicked open one of the drawn curtains. “What the...?”
All I could see was water. No land, no houses, and certainly no Fiscardo. Just an endless expanse of blue occasionally topped with a burst of white froth.
I spun around and looked out of the opposite window. It was the same.

Nothing but water.
I’m out at sea.

A wave butted the boat, and I lurched toward the galley and grabbed the counter for
support. What the hell was going on?

I was confused, not to mention dry from the wine the night before. I went into the
bathroom, brushed my teeth and splashed water on my face. After a quick gulp of bottled water, I headed up the small steps and pushed open the door to the outside world.
The glare of the sun hit me like a spotlight being turned onto my face, but I ignored it and climbed onto the windy deck.
“What on earth,” I said, holding on to the table and staring at the front of the boat, “is going on?”
Two white sails ballooned above me. Enormous and dramatic, they clung to the mast, ropes straining and groaning, reaching for the sky.
“Good morning.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I shouted, spinning and spotting Sullivan standing behind the large chrome wheel.
He wore nothing but his swim shorts and shades. The breeze had flattened his hair backward, and his shoulders and upper arms were tense as he held the wheel.
“Taking you for a spin,” he called over the breeze, grinning so wide his cheeks balled. “Like it?”
“ that is not what’s happening. Take me back to Fiscardo right now.” How dare he? Anger coiled in my stomach. It felt like my veins were suddenly too narrow for my blood.
“Can’t.” He shrugged.
“Of course you can. Turn around.” I put my hand up to shield my eyes and looked over his shoulder. In the far distance, I could make out land, rising giant-like from the sea. “Back there, take me back there.” I pointed, as a pounding beat set up in my temples.
“Can’t, the wind is blowing us this way.” He signaled to the sails. “We’re at the mercy of the gods.”
I held on to the rail that supported the Bimini and hoisted myself upward onto the main body of the boat for a better look at my location. The wind caught my hair and cooled my cheeks. I peered into the distance. “There must be a way, and I demand that you—”
He reached for my wrist, grabbed me, and pulled me down.
“Hey, watch it,” I said, gripping a metal railing that ran around the side of the boat. I was struggling to keep my footing and bumped against the table.
“No, you watch it.” He released me and gestured above me. “The boom nearly got you. Gotta keep an eye out for it. Wily sucker once the speed picks up.” He stepped away and grabbed the wheel again.
“Why did it do that? It nearly killed me.” I looked up at the scarily heavy bar that had ropes slipping upward. It had nearly chopped my head off. Damn thing.
“Probably won’t kill you,” Sullivan said, tightening something on his right. “But it will give you a thumper of a headache. Best you stay on this part of the deck for now.”
Huh, I had a headache already. Temper did that to me. “Not very health and safety conscious around here, is it?” I stepped behind him, as far away as possible from the lurching pole, and held on to the stern rail.
“Baby,” he said, still gripping the wheel but looking at me over his shoulder. “This is the big bad ocean. Danger lurks everywhere. Not even a guy with a hard hat and a clipboard can sort this out.”
I frowned at him. “Seriously, take me back. I don’t want to be out here.”
“I told you, I can’t. Besides, I want you to see some of the islands before you jump on a plane and leave me.”
“What?” I put one hand on my hip but kept hold of the rail with the other—the boat was skimming over the water, bouncing rhythmically. I couldn’t believe what he’d just said. He’d taken me against my will. He knew I’d wanted to get back to the airport today. Did he really want to see me lose it with him? “So you’ve just gone and bloody kidnapped me?”
He turned to me again and shoved his glasses to the top of his head in that cute way I’d noticed he did. He let his gaze settle on my face, then bit on his bottom lip, just a little—so I could see his top teeth—and let his attention slide over my body.
I glanced downward. Damn. I was standing in just my new, white underwear. It was pretty damn sexy with the lace detail and the balcony cups, because when I’d bought it, I’d wanted to look hot for him.
“Jesus, Kay. I’d say it was more like womannapped than kidnapped, wouldn’t you?”

"Kick off your shoes, shed your clothes along with your inhibitions and indulge yourself in a sensual adventure."

"Wow! What a story!" 

"What can I say but off the charts HOT!"

"Another fantastic book by Lily Harlem, she does such a great job of describing the characters and the place I could smell the sea and felt like I was on an island in Greece."

"A new romance book by Lily Harlem - no other words are needed, you just know it's going to be fabulous."

 "Simply a beautiful, sexy, smile-inducing story that you will want to read over and over."

"An absolutely perfect book to read whilst pool side or lounging on a sun deck."

Oh the sun, the sea, the sex! Lily has a way of writing that puts you in the book. Her descriptions of Greek Islands had me day-dreaming I was on a boat, feel the wind and sun on my face, could smell the charcoal fires from the harbour side café's and taste the olives and wine.

About Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning, multi-published author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite, Ellora’s Cave and Sweetmeats Press. Her Hot Ice series regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Silk Tie, The Glass Knot,  In Expert Hands and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release.

Lily writes MF, MM and ménage a trois, her books regularly hit the #1 spot on Amazon Best Seller lists and Breathe You In was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2014. Her latest MM novel is Dark Warrior.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae - check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set available exclusively on Amazon - The Novice, The Player and The Vixen - and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel 'every woman should read'.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

Find Lily on the web.

Monday, 8 June 2015

All The Ways I Let You Down

Ach, I guess I was in a sombre mood when I wrote this... doesn't go with the prompt pic either! (which is incredibly raunchy) - remember to click on the big purple box to see who else is taking part in Masturbation Monday :D

She lies back and begins to think of all the people she lets down in a day. She starts with you. Your packed lunch she forgot to make. She doesn't usually prepare one for you, but in her head, she imagines heart shaped sandwiches with a love note tucked in by a polished red apple.
This is what she imagines herself doing as she reaches out and presses the snooze button.
By the time you're at the door, she's already failed you in so many ways. The shirt she meant to hang up that you had to iron at the last minute when you found it crumpled on the carpet. The lovely shower she was going to have running ready for you coming through all sleep rumpled and soft edged. You'd had to draw your own, waiting patiently for the hot water to come through.
Or the delicious coffee and croissants she'd wipe from your lips as she leaned in for a goodbye kiss.
She's done none of it.
She's wakened by the door slamming as you leave in hurry to catch the bus.
She's a daily failure.
She stretches a guilt ridden stretch and tries to shake her self-directed torture elsewhere.
It's this time, this gentle morning glow, that's when she feels languid and pliant. Not tough and rigid like she grows throughout the day, coming to its apex as you walk back through the door.
No, it's now where she nestles in the still warm bedding and inhales your scent. Rolls around and coats her pores in your essence.
Now she's relaxed. Now her mind lets go of her guilt and the growing bloom of arousal begins between her legs. Her eyelids flicker closed and her head tilts back as tingling floods her senses. She imagines your hand upon her breast, teasing and rolling her nipple and her touch strays to her chest, playing out the scene from her imagination. It feels good. She trails her fingertips up to the crook of her neck and gives her skin a feathery caress, just the way your lips tease her there. It is an exquisite sensation and sends sparks all the way down to her sex. Her mouth is watering and she lifts her elbow to her teeth licking and nibbling at the tender sensitive flesh, setting her nerves alight with arousal.
She pretends it's you eating her up, leaving saliva trails over her body, scrolling your tongue down to her naval as she quivers beneath your touch. There's a pulse building in her sex now, a yearning, a need, desire, heat...
Her hands dive down between her legs and find the fragrant slippery folds of her cunt. She hears herself groan and imagines it's you as you feast on the sight of her raw exposed pussy, slick with desire.
Her fingers sink easily into herself and she rocks her pelvis trying to get enough pressure to her clit. It's not enough. It's not the same as having your thirteen stone frame thrusting up against her. She rolls onto her front, squashing her breasts into the mattress, humping her fists and wriggling around like a cat, trying to get relief.
The want and heat build further and she thrusts harder, riding her hand, imagining you behind her, fucking her hard, holding her hips fast as you slam your full weight right up inside her greedy sodden cunt.
The image has her panting and she opens her mouth, grinds her teeth into the pillow and grunts as her fingers slip and slide inside her desperate pussy. She's clenching now, clenching around her fingers and the point of no return is close, she can feel the unstoppable rising from deep within. Her jaws clamp shut around her cotton pillowcase and she comes hard, wringing herself out of all her anxiety. Shuddering, she breathes hot and wet into the pillow as she arrives back into herself.
When her body has stilled and cooled she rolls back into your side of the bed and sighs.
Just another way she has let you down.
She remembers last night as you reached for her and she turned away. You gave up quickly, knowing perseverance never wins her over.
She squeezes her eyes shut, balling her fists into the sockets as the chastisement begins again.
How long until her next reprieve?
She never knows.

She hopes tonight, she won't roll away from your reaching fingertips.

As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read all the way x x x

Sunday, 7 June 2015

A Study in Black

*Blog update*
I'm so excited to say that this piece was chosen by Molly in the Sinful Sunday round up! Click here to see the other images - they're simply stunning, chuffed to bits to be included x x x

So because June’s Sinful Sunday prompt is all about colour filters,
my contrary brain has been dwelling on black.

I have been fascinated by black since my art teacher informed us that there
was no such thing as true black in nature

I think there is...

The infinitesimal line between pleasure and pain
Hope and despair
Joy and devastation
To me that is true black
Orgasm black

Black with Red

I read recently that scientists have created a black so black that your brain cannot make sense of it. 
I think – yes – that’s exactly it – there is no making sense of true black. 
And that’s why I love it so.

I'm afraid my internet connection will not let me upload the original image – sans filters – I prefer the blackened tinted filter version by far anyway… (if I can upload later, I will)

Remember to click on those lips for some other Sinful Sundays! x x

Sinful Sunday

Wednesday, 3 June 2015

What The Butler Saw

Dear Sir

Whilst I accept that the scene you witnessed in your chamber was indeed unacceptable, I feel duty bound to point out some mitigating factors which you may wish to take note of when considering my future at Meikleston Manor.
On the day in question I was passing your chambers when I heard an unusual sound. I knelt to take a peep through your keyhole (as is customary, I might add, for a butler to check his master’s room so as not to unduly disturb him) whereupon I saw the new chambermaid from the city attending to your bedding. Now as you know, we have all had our reservations about this young city girl and her visible petticoats but the tale I am about to tell will prove just how wily her ways are, Sir.
From Pinterest
I was about to leave her to her business when she made a strange sound and fell upon your bed, Sir, her skirts flying up to reveal her undergarments. She looked like she may be in some trouble as she was wriggling around looking rather flushed. I was about to enter your chamber to check upon her wellbeing when she did the most extraordinary thing, Sir. She pulled down her bloomers and exposed her naked rump for all to see! Well, as you can imagine I was so flabbergasted to witness such a sight in the broad daylight on your very bed, that I was stunned into a sort of paralysis as I watched.
Then, to my horror, before my very eyes, she reached underneath herself and pressed her fingers about her sexual parts. Her woman’s bloom became fairly rosy and plump as her slender digits disappeared into that wanton cavern, her face pressed into your linens. I stayed silent for a few more moments just in case there was indeed something wrong with this creature – I am not so familiar with the ways of the fairer sex and thought perhaps she was attending to ladies’ doings.
Well, as she pulled and tugged and thrust her fingers into herself, I had a happening of my own, Sir. I had grown uncomfortable in my kneeling position and had to shift somewhat. The scuffle may have alerted her to my presence as she paused and looked at the door. I cannot be sure but she had a look of wickedness upon her city dweller’s face and withdrew her fingers from herself and changed position, reaching out to your clothes brush as she did.
Sir, I hesitate to say what happened next.
She lay back into your sheets and pulled her skirts up fully and unbuttoned her blouse and stays to reveal her naked chest which heaved with her laden breasts. The light did strike them so and her nipples gleamed in the shaft of afternoon sun.
My britches were growing tight around my nether regions and I shifted again to avoid any sort of cramping.
Her knees fell apart and her womanly space was directly in my line of sight. I’d never seen one so exposed and thought she must be quite ill. The dark curls adorning the ruby red lips had rather an appeal if you like to look at that sort of thing, Sir. I could see the dark pulsing of her entrance and the fluttering of her pouting lips as she drew… and here’s where I hesitate, Sir, she drew the tortoiseshell handle of your clothes brush down between those nether lips and rubbed it around and around, parting herself further. Well, sir, imagine my horror when she took your property and deftly pushed it right up into her succulent quim! I was near beside myself with fury as she thrust it in and out, it glistening and gleaming with those strange and mysterious potions which seep from a lady, Sir...

To be continued...

*Exciting news flash!*
This story came second in Oleander's competition and because of some news to come soon... I'm only giving you a little taster of the story for now...
Look out for announcements soon! x x x

This story was written for the delightfully naughty Ms Oleander Plume's Pick a Prompt story competition - why not join in? Lots of fun! Click here.

And since it's Wednesday - I'm also going to join in with Wicked Wednesday! It's been a week firsts :D - I've been following WW for ages and some of the writing is utterly breathtaking - The prompt is Three - I've made and posted three new pieces of work this week - this one being the third. Click on the rainbow for more...
This was chosen by Ms Rebel as one of her THREE!! See here - I'm so excited :D

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Monday, 1 June 2015

The Awakening

It's my first ever Masturbation Monday post. I have LOVED reading the other posts for months now and felt it time I joined in. Remember to click the purple piccy below to read some sizzling scenes from some very talented writers. Beware, you will become more than a little flustered!

Here's mine - I thought it appropriate to give you a scene of awakening - this is where Lizzie has just had an erotic encounter with a sailor on a 50s ocean liner...

A new strange sensation of heat and guilt is raging through her body and she feels she has shed the first layer of skin.
In the cabin, she examines her tender red flesh with her hand mirror. Her buttocks are throbbing and she expected to feel shame when she peeled away her wet knickers and threw them in the waste bin. But she didn’t and doesn’t. She holds the mirror awkwardly trying to pull the flesh round to get a better view. She can’t quite get the right angle and drops the mirror. It lands on the bed and she pauses to look at her own mound in the reflection. A puff of dark hair glistens and her red slit is just visible between.
Lizzie gasps out loud. She has never looked at herself this way before and steals a glance around the room as if someone is watching her guilty act. Slowly, she reaches between her legs and pulls the dark curls apart to reveal a ruby red cavern with juicy petals guarding its entrance. It looks at once terrifying and inviting and she opens herself up further. The shine of moisture has her licking her lips and breathing hard. It is strangely beautiful, this new sight, this part of herself that she’s never seen before—never even wanted to see before. Fascination turns her on. She bends her knees to widen her stance then with shaking hand, slides a tentative finger up into the opening. It is slippery and she rubs the juices around and around before pushing inside. It amazes Lizzie how easily her finger disappears and she adds another. The feelings begin to centre on the budding point just above where she now plays and she takes out a digit rubbing the juices up towards the building peak.
The sight is unnerving and her body begins to shudder when she rubs the hard nodule around and around. She plays the scene with the sailor over and over in her mind—especially the bit where he shoved his thick manly fingers inside her, only this time she imagines it’s two fingers, three, four, his cock, two cocks rammed up in her greedy cunt. She grabs herself hard with both hands and sits right on the mirror obscuring the view but getting better purchase with her pussy. She jams in as many fingers as she can while still reaching her clit and quickly—too quickly, the welling and peaking reaches crashing point and she comes hard wet all over herself.

There you have it! I look forward to joining in again x x 
Click the big purple square for more!