The Forgotten Paperback - part 1

Hello hello!

I'm joining the Sunday Snog today with an excerpt from my newly released paperback version of Taking Flight - book 2 in my Clockwork Butterfly trilogy.
I'm useless at promoting my books so haven't even tweeted news of its existence. Please consider this snog an unofficial launch party!
I hope you'll be tempted...
Here's the universal link
Taking Flight
Remember to click on for more Sunday Snog action

Withdrawing her leg from his lap, she started to crawl toward him, seductively licking her lips, and reached out to his shirt buttons. For the briefest second something passed over his face that she couldn’t quite read. The look of lust returned quickly and a hand slid into her blouse, freeing her breast from her fine, lacy bra. At once, her nipple stiffened under his touch. With the other, he lifted her chin and gazed deep into her eyes.

“I love you,” he said with an intensity that, if she hadn’t known him so well, would have scared her.

“I know.” She brushed the feeling of uneasiness away and leaned in to those full lips. “I love you too.”

He met her kiss and rose powerfully, lifting her with one arm while pushing himself to a standing position with the other. Her eyes were closed and her mouth clamped to his, feasting on his juicy flesh as he carried her through to the bedroom.

Sunday Snog: Champagne and Tits

My Goodness! What on earth happened to last week? I intended to dish out wisdom *snort* and eloquence with fabulous informative blogs over the past seven days but it appears that, well, I haven't. Good god, it's not going to be another whiplash year that just goes is it?

So here I am with a Sunday Snog. This is from a story which I'm working on and may or may not be ready in time for a TOP SECRET PROJECT!! If you like it and want to find out when things like this happen, just follow me by email - see box to the right - I'm not organised enough to do a newsletter I'm afraid. :D

So here it is, from Champagne and Tits:

Bosoms. Breasts. Tits. Funbags. Nipples.

Whatever. I am completely indifferent to them. They do nothing for me. I like looking at them on other women but mine are of no consequence to me. Well that’s not true – Jim adores mine. He says they are perfectly made to fit in his cupped palm. He sometimes comes up to me from behind and slides his hands up to hold them, knead them, letting the nipples slide between his fingers as he does. Teasing, pressing, coaxing.

Nothing.

They just aren’t sensitive at all. I know it saddens Jim but they really aren't. I’ve heard of women who can climax from nipple stimulation alone. My breasts are so insensitive that I can’t even muster envy for that kind of experience – I wouldn’t know how to even imagine what that would be like.

Jim has made it his mission to give me a sexual response through my breasts – I really wish he wouldn’t. It isn’t unpleasant having attention lavished on my bosom but there are far more exciting and stimulating parts that could be attended to. Take the crook of my arm… oh my god… nibble on the inside of my elbow and I will do anything you want… anything. There is a path with a very distinct trail leading from there to my clitoris. All the nerve endings are in perfect alignment on that particular journey, oh yes.
Or my shoulders, or the vulnerable fleshy bit of my arm just where is reaches my underarm – I’m squirming and wriggling just to think of it.

But tonight, I know it; Jim has something planned for me. He’s been looking at my tits all day and there’s champagne in the fridge. He’s even chilled the flutes in the freezer...


So there you have it! I know there isn't technically a kiss in there but hopefully you'll be curious enough to want to read the rest when it's finished!

Remember to hop on over to read the other snogs this Sunday x x x

Chemical [se]X Sunday Snog

Well I hope you all had a wonderful New Year! To bring in 2015 on my little blog, here's a Sunday Snog with an excerpt from my story The Dinner Guest in Chemical [se]X - it's a tale of lustful chocolatey menage - enjoy! x x x Remember to click on through the Sunday Snog links to get more Sunday hotness x x 

The Dinner Guest

Goosebumps raise on every part of my body as we climb the stairs. I opt to go first and I can feel the heat of the gaze of both men as they eye up my stockinged legs and higher to my ass. I can't help it – I sashay a little deeper into my hips and arousal wells in the pit of my abdomen. My knickers are damp, I can smell them. I ought to be embarrassed but I'm not at all. It's the strangest thing. The smell is combined with a cocoa fragrance and as we reach our door I glance back only to see Jasper feeding Luca one of the chocolates he was holding in the taxi.

What the hell? 

His lips engulf the melting candy and Jasper pushes his fingers in a little. Their eyes meet and in that moment, I see a decision has been made. Luca sucks greedily on the digits wrapping his tongue and lips around them, swallowing them deep into his mouth. Both their expressions are heavy with lust and my knees buckle. I fall against the door and it breaks them from their spell.

“What's going on?” I ask with my breath alone, no sound escapes me. I am floaty and excited, am I tripping?

Luca leans against the wall with a goofy sexed out look on his face and Jasper strides to me, another chocolate in his grip.

“Here, eat it,” he commands, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back, making no mistake about my instruction. As he drops the chocolate into my open mouth he slides his fingers on my tongue, fingering my mouth as if it were my pussy. It is filthy rude and my cunt yearns. He rolls his pelvis into my side to show me his hard on and I chance a glance at Luca who is rubbing his own erection through his trousers.

As I swallow the sweet liquor of melted chocolate and saliva I feel elevated beyond any need I've ever had.

“Unlock the fucking door, someone, now.” I fumble about and the keys fall to the floor. Jasper dips down and pauses on his knees, observing my spread feet. Like a feral animal pouncing, he dips up and under my dress, clawing at my panties, biting and tonguing my pussy through the fabric.

Luca comes over and I'm worried he'll be furious with me for allowing another man into my private space but he just smiles and stoops to take the key from Jasper' grip. He quickly opens the door and we stumble and fall inside, grabbing at furniture, anything to catch our balance in this tangle of bodies.

I am confused. Of course I know what's happening and it feels great but I'm not quite sure how it's happening. We never discussed this, Luca has never once hinted that he would consider a threesome... Threesome, forming the word in my mind sends spirals of illicit naughty desire racing through me. Menage-a-trois. How deliciously sordid. My breasts feel engorged and the beaded nipples are almost painful. I need to get out of my dress right now. I'm so hot and confined. I tear at the fabric and am delighted when four more hands join the crusade to get me naked...


And there you have it! If you need to read on, you can grab a copy of Chemical [se]X here... I've read the other stories and I'm a-tellin you - this is one hawt book! :D 

Remember the other snoggers for more kissy kissy action x x x

Snog for Sommer!

Hello – hello!

And thank you for joining me on my little part of this fantstic blog hop - A Snog for Sommer.

If you dropped in by mistake, let me explain...

The awesome author Ms Sommer Marsden family's has been hit hard recently by ill health. 50+ friends, writers and admirers of Sommers are hoping to ease the burden if only a little, financially, by enticing lovely readers to join in, comment, win prizes and hopefully donate to this special Sunday Snog. But best of all - buy her books! http://sommermarsden.blogspot.co.uk/

So do go along to the oodles of other authors – you can find the linky-list here – I'm sure there will be lots of fun and prizes – with of course, many many kisses of all kinds so pucker up!

I am offering two prizes – simply leave me a comment with your email address included so I can get in touch when I pick a winner.

Prize 1: an ebook copy of any of my Beachwalk titles – (they are pretty saucy!) read the blurbs here.

What a corker!

Prize 2: I was going to offer a cash prize but I donated it to the cause instead! Go here if you wish to do the same... So – as a consolation, I have made a sexy stocking puppet for one lucky winner to keep forever :D I'll have to post it, but I'll email you first to make sure you're up for that.

If you don't win the puppet, don't be too downhearted, come back tomorrow when I'll show you how to make your very own sexy stocking puppet – a friend for life :D

And so – to the snog

Here's a short story called The Birthday Cake – it's more of a build up to a snog – I hope you enjoy it! Remember to mosey on down to the other snoggers – I'm a-telling-ya, you'll be giddy all day with the love x x

I plucked one of the candles out of the thick frosting and held it out to her, still smouldering.

Note the rose quartz choker

“Why don't you wrap your lips around it and lick it clean?”

Her face was stony and her exasperated breath matched the look in her eyes.

“Don't be crass Quentin.”

Quentin. She'd been calling me my full name for the past few days. I was still unsure of what had caused this most recent mood but it was certainly something of my doing.

“Oh go on,” I persevered, waving the sticky candle over the table. It hadn't escaped my notice that she hadn't gone to the trouble of buying those little coloured birthday candles but had plumped instead for the emergency dinner ones from the bits and bobs drawer. At least she'd made a cake. That was something. An olive branch of sorts. “It would be a shame to waste this creamy celebration.”

A flicker at the corner of her mouth hinted at a thaw. My groin twitched at the thought of watching her ease the sugary shaft into her pout and tease me, undulating her tongue around and around. I could even hear the slide and pop as she pulled it out, clean and slick with her saliva. I waggled it again, urging her to take it from me, lifting my eyebrow in that way I hoped was sexy.

She rolled her eyes but then, very slowly, reached out.

I thought about snatching my hand away and making her come closer but relinquished it in favour of holding the fragile moment. It was time to play by her rules precisely. Her fingers hovered slightly and for a moment I thought she might withdraw them. I held my breath as she took the candle and the ice thawed.

I didn't want to be too eager so I settled back into my chair and just watched. Her gaze met mine and she lifted the frosting to her lips. Her pupils dilated and she shifted in her seat. Had she felt it? She must have. The rigid pose softened and she smeared the soft butter icing over her red red lips easing them open with the end of the candle. It was exactly what I'd seen in my mind just a few seconds before.

White blobs of frosting clung to her lips as she opened her mouth, wrapping her tongue around the candle, sucking and licking it clean. Her mouth was such a sensual thing, moving and teasing me, just as I wanted. My cock swelled and strained in my jeans but I stayed still, not wanting to break the static spell that hung between us.

The skin at her throat blushed crimson and she sucked, pushing the candle in deeper. It was a good sign. She shifted a little and I knew if I peeked under the table, her legs would have parted. Lust hung heavy on her expression now and I inhaled deeply, feeling confident this was the start of something. Something to heal and shatter the chill from the past few days. I ventured a hand to her knee and it yielded to my touch, falling to where I pushed. Running my palm up her inner thigh I shuddered when I felt the nylon change to lace.

Stockings.

She'd known there'd be a reunion tonight. She'd planned this. It was her seduction all along. Not mine.

I fell into her heady trap and all I could hear was the slide and pop of the candle as she pulled it out, slick and shining with her saliva.

This was written for Victoria Blisse's challenge, Every Day Kinky.

Remember to comment for a chance to win either prize! And hop on over to the other Snoggers.

Love love love to Sommer and family x x x

Seductive Sunday Snog

Sunday Snog time! 

Here's a sultry snippet from my story, The Conference, in South Bank Seduction - it's a bit of a cheat as there is barely a kiss but there is tension of the sexual variety... this is where my leading lady has just met the artist she sometimes poses for, in the Tate Modern. Oh to be an artist's muse! *yearn* *sigh*

Hope you enjoy! Remember to check out the other snoggers.

Suddenly a hand is at my lower back. Hot and heavy. Power and energy slump from my body as I surrender to him in that one motion.

He's here. I'm here.

I'm still bent at the waist and he lifts me by the shoulder, the hand at my back casually smoothes over my buttocks and presses firmly at the dip beneath. I melt. I liquefy. The ache in my groin which has plagued me since I boarded the train in Scotland is now a torrent of heat and desire.

We are the eye of the storm. The stillness in this vast crowded space.

"Come," he says and grabs my hand, almost dragging me behind him as I shimmy in my too high heels and too tight skirt and too nylon stockings. It is highly erotic. I can almost visualise us in black and white with perilous piano music playing along. A damsel being taken by a gentleman in a shabby three-piece suit and three-day beard. God, I am wet. My panties are soaked. I feel wanton and excited. Will we go to his usual studio or does he have something else lined up?

In the taxi he blindfolds me and touches my lips with something cold and sticky. The feathery slippery touch is tickly and strange. Almost like he is painting them with a sable tipped brush. I keep still and silent.

When he's guided me up some stairs and the blindfold is removed, we are in familiar territory. I am glad. I love his paintings. Louche figures in various stages of undress and eroticism stare at us from all angles. They remind me of the 1920s, somehow carefree and decadent with a sizzling dangerous undertone.

"Stand here," he commands sweeping his hand in the direction of a wooden pillar. He has removed his jacket but the waistcoat remains and he has rolled up his shirt sleeves. I do as he bids and face the easel which is set up just in front of it. "Take off your top half."

His voice is gruff and sticky in that way that tells of a life lived on good whiskey and cigarettes. Or is he a brandy drinker? The faint lingering scent of debauchery on his breath and skin, even after bathing, I imagine, gives me a thrill. He gives me a thrill. The fuck you attitude of a man who will not be told what he can and cannot do. I like it. My pussy quivers as he licks his lips and sighs in a contemplative way while he studies me removing my blouse. Happy to be rid of the damp item, I reach up behind my back to unhook my bra but he holds out his palm.

"No. Leave it." He stares at me, my form, with an analytical eye. There is no emotion in a human to human sense but he is so concentrated in an artist to subject sense that I am overwhelmed with need. But what do I need? What is it that brings me to him? He has never touched me yet. Not once. And I have never even caught a glimpse of even a sketch. When we are done, he simply sends me on my way, burning. His brow furrows as he concentrates on my chest. My nipples are yearning and peaking, straining for attention. But he won't see. I have a thick vintage cotton bra which holds my breasts out in the perfect cone.

He steps forward with both hands out and I hold my breath as he reaches in over the top of each cup and eases my breasts out. His hands are cool and I let my head fall back as he tugs harder, unaware that this is a 1950s original. I sway on my heels as he keeps working until both tits are free and hanging out over my bra. He manages to fold the top half of each cup into itself to arrange it like a balcony. Perfect. Did I just imagine it or did he roll my nipples between his thumbs and fingers?

Oh god. If he would slide those artist’s fingers up between my thighs, oh, the heat and sodden need he would find there. One touch. That's all it would take. One tiny circle of a finger tip on my clit and I would be spiralling right now into that heady place of oblivion. But he doesn't. He lets me stand there. Every hair is raised and reaching out to him. Every inch of my flesh is crying out but I am silent...

Hope you liked that - hope it left you a little uneasy :D remember to check out the other snogs x x x

http://victoriablisse.co.uk/blog/sunday-snog/

Lazy Sunday Snog

For the first time in ages, I'm not rushing around like a maniac this Sunday so I've been taking it easy and reading the Sunday Snogs and perusing the Sinful Sunday pictures.

I have joined in Sinful Sunday once but I'm still rather camera shy so will have to drink a bit more coffee* until I do it again, but I sure do love them artsy images that y'all share! (*wine)

Sunday Snog though - that's in my comfort zone - a lovely big chunk of words all ending in a kiss - here's mine - I haven't decided what I'm going to use so this will be a surprise for me too... hope you enjoy! And remember to click on the links to read other Snogs today - take it easy and get in the mood for a lazy Sunday :D

*update* Vida Bailey said this might contain spoilers... scroll to the end for the links about which book it's from! I don't think any of it gives anything away but I may be too close to the work ;)

Lena let herself giggle and roll among the bodies, laughing and breathing into each other. She wished she could look at the rich greenery, but they traveled by night and the landscape was still gray. There was no denying the health and vitality of the field beneath them as they playfully wrestled, the shrieking and panting slowly turning to groans and long nasal breaths as excitement turned to lust. She found herself lying next to Mae with Angelo straddling both of them, pinning them into the earth. His eyes glinted with desire as he looked down at them both, licking his lips. Lena bucked her hips to dislodge him a little. Want was building in her sex and she wanted to open her legs to the night. The world suddenly felt full and fecund and Lena wanted to feel the full force of the raw, fertile wilderness. She wriggled in the grass and grappled with Mae’s top with one hand and Angelo’s waistband with the other.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? I’m calling the shots here, or hadn’t you noticed?” Angelo pushed his weight down, pressing the women by the pelvises. They both giggled as he told them to be quiet. “I mean it. I am in control here. We have company, in case you had forgotten.”

Lena fell silent and felt her cheeks redden in the darkness. It was beyond belief, but she wanted him. She wanted to be taken now by her lover, here in the grass, and by the mewling coming from her right she could hear that Mae did too.

“I’m going to make you come together,” he said with a rawness to his voice which had Lena smiling to the roots of her hair. Dampness oozed from her heating pussy and she wriggled again, just a little, to try and ease the rising need. “I’m going to finger you both at the same time until your pretty little cunts convulse around me.”

It was shocking. It was a shocking statement, and Lena blushed at his words and at how wet they had made her. He shifted his hips and wriggled down the women’s legs, sliding his palms up their inner thighs. Lena glanced at Mae whose head was tipped back in anticipation of the ecstasy she was about to receive. All Lena could think about was how different their pussies might feel. They must be different down there. It had never bothered her before, and she was angry at herself for letting these thoughts intrude on what should be a thrilling, secret finger-fuck in the grass while their traveling companions were none the wiser.

Angelo’s hand squeezed the top of her thigh firmly and his middle finger probed between the fleshy cushions. Mae groaned and wriggled by her side, but Lena remained stock-still, her breath held high in her chest. All the other times, the women had been taking turns—this simultaneous stimulation was intense. What if Mae’s pussy was better than hers, more juicy, or suckled him tighter, deeper, harder? Lena clamped her soaking thighs shut and Angelo growled.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was a low, menacing whisper, and Lena was even more confused. She was feeling ashamed and inadequate and the purring to her right wasn’t helping things. Why couldn’t she just live in the moment like Mae?

“Sorry, I’m just...”

“Uptight and needing to come?” Angelo dipped to her ear, his voice steady yet unbearably

horny. “There will be no hang-ups here. You are my lovers. Both of you. You are both perfect. Now lie back, relax, and let me fuck you.”

He leaned in and kissed Lena very quickly and very hard on the lips. So hard that her teeth bruised into her pout. He seemed to have read her mind. His hand was still firmly clamped to her thigh and she let her muscles relax, surprised to see she sank into the grass by about three centimeters.

“That’s better,” he said on a breath...

That was from The Meeting Point, the final book in The Clockwork Butterfly trilogy.

I hope you might fancy reading the rest!

Now off you go and enjoy the rest of the naughty Sunday goings ons! 

love

Tabitha x x x

Sunday Snog!

Hello lovelies

Here's my Sunday Snog from The Meeting Point... Click on the links for more snogs from your fave saucy authors :)

“Oh God, how I’ve missed you.”

The words came out in great sobs and Deborah was overwhelmed at his reaction. She squeezed

tighter, hoping it would hold his emotions together and not send him spiraling out of control.

“I’ve searched for such a long time. Such a long time. I thought I’d never hold you again.”

She could barely breathe, inhaling shallow hiccup breaths as he squeezed. If she wanted to, she could slip though, right through, into the very soul of him right now. It was a tantalizing thought and she let her physical self go.

“No!” She was being shouted at and shaken. “Wake up! Deborah, my God. I’m sorry.”

Deborah came to, scared once again by his strength and size. What was going on here? Had he lost all sense of scale? Deborah put her hands to her chest and breathed in reviving air, air revved and electric with his aura.

He was smoothing her hair gently once more, his eyes filled with fear. “I thought I’d killed you. I’m so sorry. I—”

Deborah leaned into his lips, tasting her true love for the first time in eight long years. It was the same exquisite Marcus and her mouth watered for his kiss. It came. Soft at first, then hard and fast, devouring her lips, skimming her teeth with his tongue and tangling up in hers. She met him lick for lick, mouths undulating together with need, sorrow, regret, and joy. Deborah couldn’t believe the whirlwind of emotions being explored through this one kiss. The kiss where souls collide... 

Check out the other Snoggers at Victoria's site :D 

Sunday Snog - Smut In The City

Howdy snoggers!

Here's the prelude to a kiss from my story The Conjurer which is included in the fantastic Smut In The City anthology. I hope you'll think about grabbing a copy - it's a classy wee book.

Now, you know what to do - have a read then hop along to the other blogs who are indulging in a bit of lazy Sunday kissing action over at Ms Blisse's place...

This little snippet is a scene where Carla, who has recently begun to lose her sight, finds herself in an artist's studio...

The Conjurer

“How did you know?” I am lying naked on what feels like a velvet lined alter – though he assures me it’s simply a platform for best viewing his subjects. “Was it obvious?”

He pauses, I can see him from a mirror placed serendipitously on the wall so my eyes can give the impression of looking right at him while he paints, but I am able to catch a woozy reflected glimpse from the side.

“Perhaps not to everyone,” he says very gently, “but I study things. Everything. I can’t look at even a glass without being fascinated by how the light strikes it – both piercing and reflecting, causing shadows to make it look whole.” He pauses to load up his brush and perhaps, I think, he might be a little embarrassed about what he might say next.

“Go on,” I urge.

“Well, it’s just that, most people can’t handle my scrutiny. Most people find it... me... creepy.”

My skin bristles and I’m suddenly panicky. What the hell and I doing here, naked, in a strange man’s flat, drunk and almost blind? I feel a little sick. Creepy? I hold my breath and the air grows static between us. He must see the change in my posture. Self preservation screams at me to shatter the suddenly weird atmosphere. He beats me to it.

“I mean, I can’t help staring that’s all,” he says, the slight uneven tone in his voice alerting me to the fact that he knows he’s said something to scare me. “I’m still like a child in that way. It gets hard to cultivate good social skills when you’re talking to someone and all you want to do is study the way their skin skates and moves over the bones beneath.” He manages a soft nervous laugh, trying to soothe me. “I’m not really... I mean... I shouldn’t have said the word creepy.” He is terribly flustered now and through the mirror I see he is mixing colours frantically on his palette.

“It’s all right,” I say, choosing to stick with my initial impression of this man. I hesitate, desperately wanting to ask him the question that no-one will answer, but not wanting to hear the truth either. I have to know. “So how exactly did you know?” I ask the question in a way that I hope he understands what knowledge I’m seeking and that I don’t want to admit that I want to know. I brace myself, thinking he’s going to give a description of my strange looking eyes.

He puts down his brushes and steps out from behind the easel walking quickly towards me. Before I can work out what’s going on, he lifts my face by my chin and through my blinkered vision I feel him looking right into me.

“Because you didn’t look away,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss me.

Thanks so much for stopping by! If you this got you all ready for more - take a look at the other snoggers today x x  SUNDAY SNOG

Sexy Sunday Snog!

Ooops - I'm a little late to the Sunday Snog party today but hey - isn't that fashionable?

Here's a sexy snippet from my story The Scribe which features in The Brit Babes new anthology - Sexy Just Walked into town - over 70,000 sexy words packed into a hot hot book - FREE for you! So if this little taster entices you - please go and download the full thing for FREE! See list at the end.

The Scribe

The door. I hear the door open. My thighs clamp shut in shame and I’m shuffling my skirt back down when he strolls into the room.

“What’s going on here then?” He sounds like he’s being jokey but I’m so humiliated and ashamed at being caught that I can’t read his expression. I have a flashback to the same scene when I was small, only it had been my mother who’d walked in then.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she’d screamed in an explosion of fury and I’d stared at my stained skin and cried.

“Nothing,” I stammer gathering my pens and brushes to my bosom and scramble to standing.

“Come on.” He stoops low and I surrender back onto my heels. “Show me.”

He stares at me with those eyes. Those artist’s eyes that scrutinise, study, absorb and analyse. He knows my body intimately, inside and out. I’ve posed for him a hundred times and lain down for him a thousand.

He eases the pens from my grip and lays them on the floor. His fingertips are cold as he gathers my skirt and pulls it up to my resisting fists which are balled into my lap.

“Please, let me see.”

I watch the curling ink come into view as I relax my hands. Hard black scribbles both adorn and sear my flesh.

“What’s this?” he asks with curiosity, not anger and I feel I might tell him.

“It’s mine.”

“Your what?”

“My arousal,” I say. He slides his palms onto my thighs, tugging the fabric up further and sighs. I tremble, thinking he’s going to chastise me for marking myself so viciously.

“It’s beautiful,” he says and shuffles backwards so he’s on all fours staring at my work. He leans in and parts my knees, inhaling my dampening want. He reaches out and picks up one of my pens. A Rotring thick nib fountain pen. One of my favourites. “May I?” he asks tentatively and I am wide eyed at his request.

“Of course,” I whisper, quivering. I lean back on my palms and spread my thighs wide. He is intense as he makes the first mark. A long sweeping scroll from knee to groin. I shudder as he stops short of my thickening pussy lips. I hold my breath and indulge in the sensation of the ink drying. That’s it. That’s the nirvana I’m after. It’s such a subtle tiny triumph; you have to be in a very special place to perceive it. It’s like being licked by a tiny angel. He does the same on the other leg, slower this time so it dries while he’s still applying it, raising goose bumps in its wake and shooting a nerve tentacle of pleasure to the peak of my clitoris. The rising carries on its journey and I fill my chest with breath to meet it at the tip of my nipple before it retreats back to my pussy. He’s on to a brush now. He swirls my Japanese sable bamboo onto the wet charcoal block, round and round until it’s good and swollen with moisture. He bids me to unfurl my knees and lie back like a Vitruvian man.

He paints the soles of my feet, between my toes then over the arch and ankles. My whole being is centred in the tip of the cool fibres as he continues, swirling and caressing every dip and curve of my body. My stomach flutters as he makes his way over first one knee then the other, writing, drawing. I feel letters being teased onto me, then shapes and waves. I am losing myself in this slow careful ecstasy. At last the brush swoops over my mons, intertwining with my own curling fibres. My pussy is slick with desire now and I wish he would dip into me. I open my legs as wide as I can and tense my buttocks, forcing my entrance high. He obliges and sinks his face onto me, inhaling and breathing me in. He parts my thighs further with his forearms while a finger from each hand opens my plump ripe lips. He waits for a second or two, just watching my pussy twitch and contract in anticipation. I reach down and grab his hair, pulling him onto me, my bud, my cunt. He flattens his tongue down the whole length of my sex and I groan as he expertly points and darts into me then back to my clit where he swirls and laps and paints all the patterns he has made on my legs. Just as my inner muscles begin to convulse in that tell tale peaking, he stops and lifts his face away.

“You like to feel the ink drying, don’t you,” he says...

Get the book for FREE right now to read the rest and the other very saucy stories from the Brit Babes - and remember to check out the Sunday Snog for more action :D

Who are the babes? Here’s a list!

• Lexie Bay, Victoria Blisse, Harlem Dae, Natalie Dae, Lucy Felthouse, K D Grace, Lily Harlem, Kay Jaybee, Ruby Madsen, Sarah Masters

Get Sexy Just Walked into Town from these places for FREE

  

If you are an Amazon die hard - get it for 77p - if you tell them you can find it free from the above links - you can help to get them to price match!

Thank you! And enjoy x x x

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100 Snogs!

Woweee - can you believe it? the hundredth Sunday Snog! Welcome along to the saucy kissing action.
It's a very special Snday snog - as not only will it be the 100th - we are also raising money for Medicin Sans Frontier so please take a lovely lazy morning look at all the other snogs and, if you feel inspired to, follow the links for the Just Giving page to make a donation.

Back to the kissing action! In case you haven't heard, my new book, Taking Flight was born on Friday - after a fairly long gestation period, it has finally arrived fully formed and ready to be read! It is part of my dystopian erotic fantasy series and I hope you enjoy this sexy excerpt... If you would like to win an ebook copy simply like my Facebook page or leave me a little comment below with your an email address so I can contact you if you win.

Snog...

Here, let me wash you.’ Hazel darted to the poolside and brought back a bar of soap. Deborah was a little taken aback when Hazel rubbed the soap into a thick foam and passed it to her. ‘Here, hold this,’ she said, turning Deborah away. Deborah tingled as the lightest touch floated across her neck and shoulders, getting stronger and firmer as it went. Hazel started to knead the suds into her flesh, around and around in a hypnotic rhythm, sending Deborah into that hazy place of languid arousal. She let her eyes fall shut and Hazel reached under her arms, lifting them skyward and gently asking her to hold them there. Deborah did as she was bid and leant back into the caresses of the older woman. Her touch was like silk as it snaked up and down her arms, raising the tiny hairs and making her flesh buzz.

    Hazel reached lower into Deborah’s armpits and then her ribcage. Deborah knew this was a seduction but she could do nothing to resist. She peered down to her breasts, which were riding high on her chest, forced up by holding her arms in the air. Hazel’s touch ventured around just below them and, despite herself, Deborah willed her to cup them, knead them. The warmth of Hazel’s breath tickled at her neck as she slid her hands up over the swell of Deborah’s breasts, taking her nipples between each thumb and forefinger and squeezing gently. Deborah sighed and leant back into Hazel’s shoulder, not quite tall enough to lay her head on it.

    ‘You’ve got beautiful tits,’ Hazel purred and the word snapped Deborah out of the hypnotic spell. She pulled away from her embrace just as they heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Birch and Marcus swept through the undergrowth as Deborah ducked under the water, trying to shake off what might have just happened. She’d long known she and Marcus were unusual because they were monogamous, but the situation had never really arisen before that they felt they wanted to take other partners. Because of this, what had almost just happened between her and Hazel made Deborah feel guilty. She wondered what Marcus would have thought if he’d come just a few seconds earlier. It was like they were a married couple from the history books. Society had once been built on monogamy; affairs outside wedlock deemed a terrible thing, leading to families splitting up and dreadful heartache. In theory, a society that promoted free love between consenting adults was a good thing – a more mature way of thinking – but Deborah felt she’d been monogamous too long to happily go down that route, guilt free.

    ‘That looks good, mind if we join you?’ Marcus looked genuinely happy at last and Deborah had to wonder at how quickly Birch had gained his trust.

    ‘Of course,’ she cried, beaming up at him, but with one hand she reached down between her legs and swished away the pool of desire that had welled there.

    The two men pulled their tops off and hopped while they yanked off their bottoms in perfect unison.

    ‘Isn’t this amazing?’ Marcus smiled as he waded towards her, not even flinching at the cool water. ‘I’ve never been anywhere so beautiful.’ He picked her up and kissed her deeply in full view of Birch and Hazel. Deborah wrapped her arms around his neck and blushed as he bobbed her down in the water to let her feel his stiffening rod prod at her. Her body, still hot and confused, clutched at this advance and her pussy flooded with heat and desire, juices mingling with the slow-flowing river.

    ‘Ahh, young love.’ Birch sighed, leaning into his mate, staring unashamedly at Deborah and Marcus.

    Marcus released Deborah and pulled her into a languid embrace, floating by his side. She rested her head into him and the two couples looked at each other and smiled contentedly. And while her heart began to slow into a steady rhythm again, Deborah felt real peace for the first time in longer than she could remember.

Blurb

“Find me at the meeting point. We are more than the physical.”

Four generations from now, toxins are ravaging the land and the future of mankind is in peril. The surviving men are being rounded up and taken to holding facilities. Research scientist, Dr Deborah Regan is hoping to stabilise the decreasing male population before her lover, Marcus becomes one of those taken away.

When the authorities come looking for Marcus, Deborah abandons her research to go on the run with her lover. They flee to the forests where they stumble across a couple who are intent on finding an ultimate sexual union where at the point of climax their spirits break free from their bodies and unite. Plunged into a life of lust and survival, Deborah soon realises she can easily slip into this trancelike state and she and Marcus set out to create a transcendent bond of their own. Can they achieve the ultimate unity before fate separates them for good?

An erotic dystopian fantasy following a young couple trying to elude capture and separation.

The prequel to A Clockwork Butterfly.

In a dying world – is love the only means of true survival?

Buy Links for Taking Flight

AmazonUK  

Amazon.Com 

Buy links for A Clockwork Butterfly

AmazonUK 

AmazonUS 

Please remember to check out the other snogs - there's a whole lotta kissin' going on today! We smashed our £100 target for Medicins sans Frontier - but please, help us do even better! 

Thanks for stopping by hope you enjoyed puckering up with me x x x