Janee at iBlog is a plagiarist!

Check it out:
http://www.janee.iblog.co.za/2007/10/04/inspiration-dead-at-moment/

This is blatantly stolen from my blog post last summer!

This may be a good time to point out that all content of this blog, my literotica site and (of course) anything on Wicked Temptations is the property of that corporation and under their copyright.


And now, a teaser for the next story that will go up here and at Wicked Temptations... It's the second part of my first threesome story (ha!):

After a delicious dinner and a few glasses of wine, my husband Dirk and I started making out in one of the resort’s fourteen outdoor hot tubs.


The tubs were separated by just a few feet of grass or pebble pathways lit by tiki torches and giant pillar candles on iron stands. There were at least two people in each of the other tubs. All of them were kissing and, from what we could see in the flickering light, most of them were having sex. In the hot tub next to us, five women were silently pleasuring each other. Two brunettes were making out heavily. A blonde was sucking her redheaded friend’s breasts while a second blonde fingered the redhead underwater.



During dinner, Dirk and I couldn’t stop talking about our incredible session with Lana earlier in the day. Staring at him in his shirt and tie, I felt myself getting more and more turned on as I remembered filming him fucking the sexy, busty maid.



I’d changed into an incredible, sparkling gown with the world’s highest slit in front for our romantic dinner. Dirk had reached between my legs and stroked my thighs as we enjoyed the food and shared a bottle of merlot. Once we finished, we walked out and took in the sight of hot tubs filled with couples and groups enjoying each other in the cool night air. Dirk stripped down and got into the tub naked, but I surprised him by unveiling my new string bandeau bikini. Dirk was used to seeing me in more conservative bikinis or one-pieces, and I thought his eyes were about to pop out of his head as I lowered myself into the water next to him.


“You are the hottest woman at this resort. Come here, baby,” he said, and suddenly we were making out like we were teenagers again. He cupped my boobs gently, rubbing my nipples through the smooth fabric of my bandeau top. I climbed onto his lap and teased him by letting my tiny g-string rub against his cock without allowing him to enter me.

Fact or Fiction: Erotica Writer's Temptation

Here I am again, getting ready to write a new story and fighting the temptation to use my own sex life as inspiration. There's a delicate balance between autobiography and fiction when it comes to erotica. A good writer can make you feel like you're in the moment; that's the whole point. Naturally, thinking back to when you actually were living that moment can clarify your writing and make it feel more immediate. However... it always seems a little... icky, especially as I write primarily for a public website. Part of me wants to draw a distinct line between fact and fiction but in this genre, that's ridiculously impossible.

I'm a rather private person. Sometimes when I read over my published stories, I get a creepy-crawly feeling when I realize I pulled a scene from something I've experienced, whether or not I was thinking about it at the time. Quite a few of my friends are avid readers of my erotica and a few of them have flat-out asked me if the stories are autobiographical. I think that's why I find it easier to craft crazy scenarios involving policemen or student/teacher fantasies. The farther it is from who I am, the safer it is to write about it.

Much as I'd like to keep my sex life private, I suppose there's nothing wrong with a little inspiration. Sometimes a particularly good night can inspire erotica that's nothing like what actually happened. In fact, although none of my stories on Wicked Temptations are taken directly from "real life," I can see elements of autobiography in nearly all of them.

I had a party recently where we all got drunk and decided it would be a good idea to do a round-robin reading of one of my stories. Mortified even after several rum-and-diets, I cringed as the mixed group started reading Restaurant, a story they chose randomly from the Wicked Temptations collections. They went paragraph by paragraph. The group was half women, half men, with several couples in attendance. I didn't take a turn reading out loud but nearly everyone else did. It was a bizarre experience. Thankfully, my boyfriend didn't happen to be in the room and no one asked the familiar "So-- how much of this is true?" question. After they finished the story, everyone clapped... and two of the couples immediately excused themselves and went home! Hearing my work out loud helped me feel more comfortable with this job and with my own writing style. I watched the group appreciate my words and even (apparently) get aroused by them.

Although I'm not sure I'm ready to overtly use my own sex life in my erotica, I'm convinced it's impossible to block it out completely. With erotic stories, even the strangest plots or sexiest scenarios give way to physical realities that can't feel manufactured. That's not to say you can't write what you haven't lived-- with some of the bizarre stories on sites like Literotica and the Kristin Archives, I certainly hope scenarios can be fabricated. However, sensuality and memory are probably the most valuable tools for erotica writers.

Falling Into Submission

She has problems letting go.

She has problems leaning back, closing her eyes and feeling the world go by unattended, surrendering to forces beyond her control.

She is a strong woman who doesn't take shit and won't hesitate to stand up for what she believes is. If she says no, that's the final answer, mister. There's no use trying to change her mind, control her, bend her will or pacify her.

That's why the thirst for submission was a surprise.

She'd known she liked a man to be somewhat forceful with her. She liked to feel lusting growing and growing until there was no choice but to fuck throughly and immediately. She liked the explosion of heat, contact, voracious exploration until satiation. She hadn't thought about her own role until their first time in bed together.

It was subtle at first. He was gentle but clearly knew what he wanted. They covered each other, desperate for possession. He gave one or two directions: "You on top," and then, later, "Come for me, baby." She was surprised to feel her body complying with his second request. As soon as she heard the words, she felt herself contracting on top of him, growing hot and electric as her orgasm approached. She came hard. Leaning back, she heard him encouraging her. His hands grasped either side of her hips and ground her against him. She came hard, loving the feeling of fulfilling his wishes through her own pleasure.

Each time after that, she felt herself allowing him to gradually become dominant over her. His directions grew more frequent. He orchestrated and she obeyed, although the directions were commonplace at first. He'd tell her when to suck his cock, when to get on her hands and knees and when she should orgasm.

That was the most amazing thing to her-- that when she heard his voice telling her to come, she did, almost in spite of herself sometimes. He'd pull her closer and direct her to let go and suddenly she was riding the wave of a tremendous orgasm, pressing herself against him and surrendering herself completely. Before long, she was asking him if she could come, begging for it until he allowed her to and then shuddering with the power of his suggestions. The uncertainty of it left her breathless.

He began to manipulate her during sex. Gently, he'd move her into a position, flipping her legs to one side or pulling her over him until he had her exactly where he wanted her. She welcomed his authority. The first time he casually brought her arms over her head and held her by her wrists, her body surged upward with pleasure and she nearly came, unbelieveably turned-on by the restraint. She loved the combination of tenderness and captivity. He'd run a hand up her neck, along her cheek, into her hair, ending at her nape where she'd feel him take a handful of hair and tug just hard enough to move her head backward. Her heart pounded as he ran his tongue up her exposed neck with excruciating slowness.

Nothing made her feel safer than seeing him above her, fucking her, while he held her arms above her head with one hand and cradled her hips with the other. Submission, she realized, was the ultimate control: by choosing to give yourself to someone, you were proving your own strength. Trusting someone with her body became beautiful.

It was a secret she thought of many times during her day. Work, at the gym, meetings, at the store. No one knew the serious-faced businesswoman had a mind-blowing and elegant sex life. They couldn't see her thoughts drifting to bondage, how to obey and the sweet taste of surrender.

Restaurant (More Erotica)

The restaurant was not quite dark enough to hide Angelica’s embarrassment. She held tight to Chris’ arm, hoping the other patrons were too busy savoring their steaks and salads to notice her long, tanned legs gleaming beneath her super-short dress. The deep cowl neckline (framed by loose waves of chestnut hair) exposed more than a little of her generous cleavage, the thin fabric displaying her body’s perfect curves. Angelica was nervous but dangerously aroused; her nipples, hard from excitement and the chilly February evening, poked insistently through the glittering, swaying dress. Chris leaned in to whisper: “You look unbelievable.” She smiled and pulled herself a little closer to her boyfriend, who was dressed in an impeccable grey suit and black tie that complemented Angelica’s black and silver minidress.

Chris was black-haired and tall, with a lean, sculpted body from a disciplined gym schedule, piercing blue eyes and a sensual Italian complexion. He held Angelica close to him, letting the restaurant know she was his property and they were not to spend too much time staring at the curvature of her ass, her breasts, her grey-green eyes rimmed in kohl and cast downward obediently as the gorgeous couple traveled through the buzzing restaurant.

Their waiter led them to an enclosed booth in the back and set two gold-rimmed menus on the polished wooden table. Well-trained, he made a motion to untie the heavy velvet drapes on either side of the booth. Chris stopped him with a deft gesture. The waiter shrugged and withdrew.

Angelica had slid into one side of the semicircular booth. Now, Chris beckoned and she scooted toward him. The cool leather reminded Angelica that she wasn’t wearing any panties, just as Chris had instructed. He’d sent her a text message halfway through the day, specifying exactly what she was to wear to their anniversary dinner. She felt warmth flooding through her body as she dressed in her apartment, smoothing the tiny minidress and preparing herself for what promised to be an incredible evening. Chris had gradually become more dominant in the bedroom, and, when he realized how much Angelica enjoyed being submissive to him, he’d begun expanding their sexual dynamic into the rest of their relationship. The dinner instructions were explicit: Hello Angelica. We’re going to dinner tonight at 8:30. Wear the dress I’ve put on your bed, and nothing else. No bra. No panties. Be in front of your apartment at precisely 8:15. Tardiness or other deviations will not be tolerated. Much love, Chris. Angelica had shivered as she slipped into the sexy dress and waited on the street, cool air hitting her exposed crotch and shaping her nipples into erotic points as passers-by stared hungrily.

Now, Chris slipped his arm around her back and pulled her snugly next to him in the booth. Reaching down, he kissed her neck and said, “You like the dress?”

She smiled and shook her hair back, exposing her collarbone for Chris to kiss. “It’s a bit shorter than I’m used to.”

“I like it. Makes me want to fuck you.”

“You will fuck me... I’m all yours tonight, baby.”

“Not tonight, Angelica... Now.”

She pulled away to look at him. His eyes sparkled, deviant, and Angelica realized he wasn’t joking. She felt herself blushing again and shook her head once, quickly. “Honey, no... I mean, I’m having fun, but we can’t do that here—“

Chris smiled and reached over to the booth’s entrance, tugging a cord so one of the two velvet curtains fell down, partially obscuring the couple. “How’s this?”

“Still no, Chris! No, no, no!” But his mouth was on her neck again and she felt her heart rate increase. He pulled one of her hands into his lap and she automatically stroked his hardening cock, feeling its strength through the fine fabric of his dress pants. Angelica caught her breath as Chris suddenly grasped her right breast, squeezing it before letting his hand drift down her side and placing his lips firmly against hers. They kissed deeply. Chris increased his pressure on her side, beginning to pull her into his lap. Angelica felt her arousal heighten as her bare ass moved from the tough leather seat to the softness of Chris’ slacks. She moved her hand from his now fully hard cock and cast a glance into the restaurant. No one was watching. Her mouth still pressed to his, body twisted so her breasts nestled against his chest, Angelica scooted into Chris’ lap and felt him jump as his dick strained against the thin layer of fabric separating him from her pulsing, waiting pussy.

She wanted him, and she wanted him right then, right there. Angelica abandoned the kiss and straightened her body, leaning back against Chris, who circled his arms around her stomach and held her tightly against him. She felt him exhale and his cock jumped underneath her. Chris tilted his head up and said, “There you go. I knew you’d come around. Now take out my cock and ride it.” Without hesitation, Angelica reached between her own legs and groped for Chris’ zipper.

Angelica eased the zipper down carefully, making sure not to graze her own exposed sex with the hard, cold metal. Chris hadn’t bothered with briefs. His cock popped through the open zipper immediately, coming into contact with Angelica’s hands and with the draped, sparkling fabric of her sexy little dress. She rubbed the head of his dick against the fabric and he moaned softly.

Gently, she stroked him underneath her dress, moving her hand up and down his rock-hard shaft. Her lust grew and she pressed herself down in his lap. Her clit ground into the base of his cock, sending sparks of pleasure up her spine.

The unfortunate waiter returned with two glasses of water. He stopped short in front of the booth. Angelica froze, her hand grasping Chris underneath the flimsy fabric of her dress. The waiter tried desperately to keep his gaze neutral but there was no mistaking what the gorgeous female patron was doing on her date’s lap. He stuttered nervously.

“Water, here, for both—both of you. Can I interest you in anything special? Wine, I mean. Can I get you wine?”

Chris stared straight at the waiter. “Bring us a bottle of good cabernet, please.”

“Do you desire anything in particular? In terms of cab-cabernet, I mean.” The poor waiter was desperate to escape but Chris held his gaze.

“Whatever the sommelier recommends tonight.” The waiter nodded and made a move to untie the second velvet curtain. Chris shook his head silently. Bright red and uncertain, the waiter escaped and left them alone, still half-exposed to the rest of the restaurant patrons. Curiously, Angelica no longer felt embarrassed. The occasional inquisitive glance from the other diners only increased her lust.

Chris’ hands were still holding onto her waist and now he lifted her slightly, his cock bouncing up against her and grazing her clit. She gasped and realized he was guiding her onto him. Supporting herself with her legs, she stood up enough to guide his dick to her slick, hot pussy, feeling his cock-head suddenly pressing against her opening. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Angelica started lowering herself onto Chris’ dick. He was unusually thick and she had to force his head inside of her, pushing hard and feeling him stretching her pussy lips as she worked him into her. They both breathed harder. Chris stopped lifting her waist and instead began pressing her down, helping guide his hard cock deeper inside of her. Angelica felt first his cock-head, then each ridge of his dick forcing into her wet sex.

Chris put a finger into the glistening glass of ice water the waiter had set in front of them. He swirled it sensually and fished out a single ice cube, carefully taking it under Angelica’s dress and tapping it against her clit. She shuddered with aching pleasure and stifled another moan. Chris moved the ice cube down her slit to his dick, still traveling centimeter by centimeter into her tight and dripping pussy. He swirled the ice cube against the base of his dick and back up to his girlfriend’s erect clit. Driven over the edge by the barrage of sensations and the illicit setting, Angelica’s pussy began to clench as she hovered on the brink of orgasm.

Chris, feeling Angelica becoming even tighter on top of him, gave one giant thrust to fully engulf his cock inside of her. Angelica gasped as Chris’ dick hit what felt like the absolute back of her canal. She began to move her hips back and forth as her orgasm built. She could feel every ridge and every inch of Chris’ cock moving against the walls of her slick, pulsing pussy, and as she rocked on top of him she threw her head back and succumbed to overwhelming pleasure. “Fuck me,” she breathed, coming hard on top of him with a sudden rush of heat and even more wetness, her body sucking his cock so hard he felt his balls tighten and knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

As she moved on top of him, still riding her orgasm, she became aware of the approach of the waiter with the bottle of cabernet. Angelica was amazed to find she didn’t care.

The waiter was already flushed bright red as he reached the table, where the two attractive patrons were now overtly fucking each other. The woman glistened, her eyes shining with lust; she was sitting on the man’s lap with her dress conveniently concealing his dick in her snatch, although it was obvious to anyone who cared to look that they were both locked together and just about to blow. Without bothering to say anything, the waiter abandoned the bottle of cabernet and took off toward the kitchen.

“Wait.” Chris’ voice was husky but commanding. The waiter stopped and turned, embarrassed and confused. Chris breathed heavily for a second, staring at the waiter, who realized what the patron wanted and grabbed for the bottle of cabernet. As the waiter fumbled, Chris said, “Thank you... And I think we’re ready to order. I’ll take the sirloin with garlic butter. Angelica?”

Surprised, Angelica struggled to regain her breath enough to speak. She realized she hadn’t even glanced at the menu. “Do you... um... Can you recommend any specials?”

The waiter poured each of them a glass of cabernet. His hands shook and his face now matched the color of the wine. “I hear the chicken marsala is quite good, Madam.”

“I’ll take that. Thank you.” As the waiter turned to go, Angelica raised herself slightly and slammed down hard on Chris’ cock. The sudden friction and rush of wetness pushed him closer to cumming and he grasped her hips tightly, dragging her up and down on his throbbing shaft. Her breasts began to bounce and several of the closest diners, no longer able to avert their eyes, started watching the couple as Angelica ground herself against Chris’ cock.

Bouncing harder and harder, Angelica felt Chris’ body tense up and heard his breath quicken. His balls tightened and he grabbed her hips, shoving himself far inside of her as he came suddenly, groaning and shooting cum into Angelica’s still-clenching pussy. The couple rode out their pleasure as the restaurant watched in shocked silence.

Finally, Chris released Angelica’s hips and leaned back, exhausted. She put her hands on the table and breathed deeply. Suddenly aware of the stares of the other patrons, Angelica reached out and unhooked the velvet curtains so the booth was totally hidden from the rest of the restaurant.

His cock still inside of her, Angelica twisted and kissed Chris tenderly on the lips. “That was amazing. I can’t believe they didn’t kick us out.”

“Why do you think this place has enclosed booths? They’re used to scenes like this.”

“Well, the waiter certainly looked shocked.”

“I think people do normally close the curtains before fucking in the restaurant instead of doing it for the whole world to see.” Chris helped Angelica off his lap and settled her in the crook of his arm. She reached for the ice water.

“God, I’m starving. What the hell did I order?”

“Chicken marsala.”

“I hate chicken marsala.”

“I know. I didn’t want to say anything. Afraid it would be awkward.”

Angelica laughed into her water. She couldn’t believe what they’d just done. Smoothing her dress, she looked up at Chris. He took her chin in his hand and kissed her deeply, holding her just tightly enough to let her know he was still in charge—and the night was far from over.



I wrote this erotic story for Wicked Temptations Lingerie, where I'm the in-house erotica writer and overall copywriter. You can see our entire collection of erotica at our erotica homepage. Leave me comments and suggestions!!!

The Pirate and the Vampire

Jane entered the party tentatively, expecting the worst. Her cousin Richard had always thrown terrible parties. His old Victorian had been the scene of many tedious shindigs where college kids got noisily sloshed, set things on fire and passed out on the front lawn. When Richard had called her in mid October, she’d told him she already had plans for Halloween night. It hadn’t been a lie: Jane’s friends were already engaged in all sorts of debauchery at their favorite erotic club. However, she’d promised Richard she’d make a brief appearance at his party. She hadn’t seen Richard in a few months; he’d been touring as the new bassist of a gothic post-hardcore band with a serious underground following. Richard had emailed Jane from the road with wild stories about groupies with fangs and the graveyard escapades of his bandmates. When he phoned, he told her he was throwing the band’s annual Halloween party at his appropriately spooky two-story home. Jane secretly pitied the rest of the band: If it was going to be as dull as Richard’s usual parties—



But it wasn’t. She saw that instantly. Entering the foyer was like stepping into the world of a gothic romance novel. The home was transformed, lit by hundreds of candles dripping on mantels and hanging in sconces. Heavy trance music spread its heartbeat through the wooden rooms as costumed dancers swayed and dipped. She stood mesmerized, watching a cop grinding with a sexy bunny next to two schoolgirls making out with their hands up one another’s skirts.

Life on the road had been good for Richard.

Jane shut the heavy door behind her. She wore an exquisitely sexy pirate captain costume, a lacy orgasm of brocade and satin. Jane had curled her long blonde hair and topped it with a black pirate hat; its long red ribbons looked striking against the pale gleam of her hair. She’d added black stiletto boots with sexy stockings and as she paused in the foyer she noticed party guests staring appreciatively at the way the lacy costume and sexy shoes accentuated her long, tanned legs.



Jane wandered further into the party. In the dim light, she could just distinguish figures kissing passionately in every available nook and cranny in the old house. Heading toward the kitchen for a drink, she had to squeeze by two beautiful girls making out in the hallway. The girl dressed as a nurse was pinned against the wall by the one in a two-piece kitten costume, who had one hand on the nurse’s breast and the other under her skirt. The kitten’s eyes were locked on the nurse, whose face was flushed and sparkling with pleasure. Jane made a mental note to check back on the two girls later and see if they could use another pair of hands.

Entering the dark kitchen, Jane was amused to see the old familiar keg sitting on the counter, the sole relic of Richard’s previous parties. Luckily, the keg was surrounded by liquor bottles and mixers, and Jane quickly made herself a strong rum-and-coke before wandering back into the heart of the party. She walked into the guest bedroom and stopped short: a woman wearing nothing but a fringed cowgirl skirt was preparing to mount a beautiful, muscular man lying on the bed wearing a barbarian’s studded collar. Her fringed top and his studded leather skirt had been flung to the ground and as Jane watched, the woman straddled the barbarian and lowered herself slowly onto his waiting cock. Moving her skirt out of the way, she ground herself onto him. He reached for her hips and grasped them firmly, guiding the cowgirl up and down on his dick as she threw her head back and moaned.

Jane’s amusement was quickly overshadowed by hot and impatient lust. She was about to offer her services to the sexy couple on the bed when someone touched her shoulder. Jane turned and saw a gorgeous vampire with black hair, olive skin and strangely fiery green eyes. The man smiled and Jane’s heart flipped—this was the heartthrob lead guitarist in Richard’s band. He was tall and very slender, although finely toned from hours of onstage exertion. He had the musician’s signature scruffy goatee and Jane could just see the tentacles of tribal tattoos peering through the white lace at his neck. He wore a fitted white shirt with silver cufflinks, tight black slacks ending in leather boots and a flowing velvet cape with red satin lining. His features were delicate and finely chiseled, from his high, intelligent cheekbones to his gently sloping nose. The man gestured deviously to the couple fucking on the bed.

”Ever been to a party like this before?” He asked. His voice was deep and rich enough to be heard over the thumping techno. Jane leaned in.

“All the time. Never at Richard’s, though. You must have been a very bad influence on him.”

The vampire smiled devilishly. “I’m Paul.”

“I know.” Jane looked back at the couple on the bed, who seemed to be nearing climax. “Is this what your parties are always like?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “What’s your name?”

“Jane Adams.”

“You’re related to Richard.”

“His cousin.” They watched the barbarian grab the cowgirl’s ass and hold her firmly as he came into her, writhing and moving his cock in and out of her pussy. She leaned back, mouth open, riding her orgasm, oblivious to (or enjoying) Paul’s and Jane’s attention. Paul looked at Jane and touched the soft black lace along her waist.

“You make a beautiful pirate.” She turned her body toward him and put her hand on his, guiding it down her side.

“Feel how soft it is?”

Paul continued down her body, hand drifting past the skirt to the lace underneath, finally connecting with the firm flesh of her thigh. He stared into her eyes. “Yes, I do.” She kept his gaze, desire building as Paul traced his fingers up to the strap of her thong. “So you like this kind of thing?”

“Do you mean this kind of party or the fact that your hand is under my skirt?”

“Both.”

“Yes.” Paul smiled wickedly and snapped her thong with one finger. He leaned over her, pushing her back against the doorframe, and kissed her gently. His lips were warm and sensuous. She felt them part gently and her mouth was invaded by the wet passion of his tongue. The kiss was unexpectedly rich. He molded his mouth to hers, tasting her, enjoying the way their mutual attraction enhanced the intimacy of the simple contact. Their mouths opened wider and he moved his hand between her legs, rubbing two fingers across her thong. His fingers explored the panty, discovering the central opening; Jane felt him smile into her mouth as he realized it was crotchless. Jane’s body responded to his touch and she felt damp heat permeate the thong. She put a hand on either side of Paul’s face, feeling the scratch of his beard as she kissed him.

Paul pulled back and took her hand, drawing her out of the doorway and through the house. Jane followed obediently. She sensed Paul’s need to find a more interesting place to continue their Halloween tryst.

He found one. Opening a door, he saw a flight of stairs going down into Richard’s rec room, which was lit by moonlight pouring through street-level windows lining the top of the basement walls. Paul turned to Jane, swooped her into his arms and carried her down the steep steps. Jane’s heart raced with anticipation and adrenaline as he surveyed the room, eventually striding toward the dark form of Richard’s pool table smack dab in the center of the basement. Richard swung Jane so her legs wrapped around his torso. She removed her pirate hat, tossing it to the ground and shaking her long curls seductively. Paul backed her up so her ass rested on the wooden side of the pool table. He settled her on the edge and slid his hands up her thighs. His hands felt smooth and hot against her skin. As he leaned in to kiss her again, she felt the bump of his hard cock press against her pelvis. Their mouths combined hungrily. Paul’s tongue wrapped around hers erotically as his hands slid up to her panty line and moved excruciatingly slowly toward her crotch. Jane opened her legs and began unbuttoning Paul’s shirt, revealing a perfectly toned chest decorated with elaborate, swirling tattoos gleaming black in the silver moonlight.

Jane felt Paul’s fingers trace her crotchless thong, pulling at the bow, playing with the lacy sides, tugging gently at the elastic but never venturing through the central slit to her aching pussy. She widened her legs again and thrust her hips forward. Paul moved his mouth to just below her ear and breathed, “Do you want me, wench? Do you want me inside of you?”



Jane caught her breath and took a quick nip at Paul’s neck before pleading, “Please… please… I need you so much…”

He bent down and kissed her thigh, running his tongue up toward her crotch. He moved the lacy skirt out of the way and revealed the thong, its black fabric soaked with Jane’s lust. Paul’s strong hands clasped her thighs as he paused to appreciate the way her clit peeked through the hole in her panties. Jane held her breath and kept her body still, willing Paul to make some sort of contact with her. He leaned in and she felt his breath moving along her slit, hovering just above her panties; she wiggled forward, overtaken by desire. He flicked his tongue out and just tapped the top of her clit. An electric shock of pleasure ripped through her and she cried out as he slowly parted the panties with his fingers, giving him a perfect view of her neatly shaved slit. Paul spread her pussy lips slowly and let his tongue run up the inside of first one lip and then the other. Jane threw her head back as she felt one finger enter her, moving just far enough inside to curl and tickle the roughness of her g-spot. Meanwhile, he breathed gently on her nub before taking it between his lips and massaging gently. Washed by sensations, Jane’s hands began to prickle and go numb as blood rushed to her head and throbbing pussy. Paul sucked gently, his finger beckoning against the wall of her vagina and sending her into spasms of sexual bliss.



Jane didn’t think about where Paul’s other hand had gone. She didn’t see him undo the buttons of his pants and shimmy them down as he licked and pumped her toward ecstasy. But she certainly noticed when the finger pleasuring her g-spot disappeared and Paul straightened up, abandoning her tender clit and attacking her neck with his drenched lips. She was about to protest when the tip of his cock pressed against her, the hot head a welcome and erotic surprise on her clit. Paul sucked on her neck as his dick nestled against her pussy. Jane reached down and grabbed it, enjoying its impressive girth as she guided it between the strips of her crotchless thong and shimmied so the head popped just inside of her.

Paul groaned and pushed a little ways into Jane. His hard-on filled her gradually, pushing against every nerve and sending explosions up and down her body. Impatient, he thrust into Jane and she cried out with pleasure and pain. His dick was large and incredibly thick. She felt him pressing against the end of her canal, forcing her to fall back with her elbows on the pool table to allow him full access to the length of her cunt. Fully inside her now, he moved his hips in slow circles. The sensations traveled clockwise as he put pressure on first one area and then another inside of her. Slowly he ground into Jane, staring at her intensely. Her mouth opened slightly. Paul pulled almost all of the way out of her and slid back into her wet pussy. She gasped again and he repeated the motion, letting her enjoy every inch and ridge of his dick.

He fucked her slowly for minutes, stretching out their pleasure. Eventually his lust grew unbearable and he quickly increased his force and speed. Jane sat up straight and grabbed onto his shoulders. The angle changed the sensation and she gritted her teeth in sudden pain, feeling him slamming against her walls with unbridled vigor. Pleasure crept over the pain and she brought her knees together, tightening her internal grip on Paul’s cock. Paul groaned in response and fucked her fast and hard. Jane bounced on the pool table. Its hard wooden side would leave an angry bruise on her ass but she was beyond caring. Paul crushed her to him and pumped with abandon, bringing them both toward gasping, fiery climax.

Jane’s pussy began contracting. Her hands, prickling and numb, grabbed Paul’s back. Stars danced in front of her eyes as she felt a tidal wave of hot lust burst into her cunt. She floated in ecstasy as Paul’s cock exploded, their climaxes mixing and washing them in liquid pleasure. His dick shuddered, tiny earthquakes clutched by her tightening pussy. Paul moved in and out slowly, savoring the end of their orgasms. He kissed her passionately. Soft lips melded as their shaking ceased.

After making out for several minutes, Paul slipped his dick out of Jane and smiled devilishly. She returned his grin and adjusted her panties, flipping her lacy skirt down and smoothing the wrinkled fabric. Paul tucked his cock into his pants. He retrieved Jane’s pirate hat and stood a few feet away, looking at her still perched on the edge of the pool table. Her eyes sparkled and her hair stood wild against her pale skin. She smiled at him.

“Can I have my hat back, please?”

“If you’ll let me see you again.”

Jane felt a little bit of panic ripple through her. “Umm… I thought this was just, you know… The party.”

Paul walked toward her. “So did I. But I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“Seriously?”

“Please, Jane. I know, this is strange for me too.”

She stared at him, torn. He’d been an amazing fuck, yes; but had she felt something more when he’d kissed her? The possibility was frightening but kind of—kind of nice. She reached for the hat.

“Deal. Next week? Richard has my number.”

“Perfect. Want to go back to the party?”

Paul intertwined his fingers with hers and drew her close enough to kiss her again. His mouth opened and his tongue danced with hers briefly, their lips moving together sensuously. Time passed as they made out in the darkness of the basement.

Pulling away at last, Paul and Jane looked at each other with a mixture of passion and uncertainty. Silently agreeing to retreat to the world they understood—the world devoid of obligation, commitment or emotional candidness—they climbed the stairs and returned to the safety of immorality.

A Little About Me...

Hey friends...


I'm the erotica writer and copywriter for Wicked Temptations Sexy Lingerie, an online lingerie retailer that sells shoes, legwear, clubwear, and lingerie by major designers, as well as original swimwear, clubwear and lingerie lines.

I started this blog to have another place to post the original erotic stories I write for the website. You can see the whole collection of erotica on my Erotica Homepage. I like to post stories written by customers, so if you're an erotica writer, comment my blog-- I'd love to publish your stories on Wicked Temptations, complete with "illustrations" of sexy women in lingerie!

I fell into this job straight out of college. It's a crazy work environment but it's been great... and yes, I get a discount. :)

Midnight (original erotica)

The key is in the lock, the door is thrown open and they're inside, fumbling into the dark hallway, tripping backwards over the bookshelf, the end table, the door itself until he finally succeeds in kicking it shut. The darkness is only a momentary impediment. Their eyes adjust quickly, shards of moonlight shifting through the blinds in horizontal stripes to form patterns on their bodies as he presses her against the wall.

His kisses move from her hungry mouth down her neck to the sharp line of her collarbone, illuminated briefly by the moonlight as though it were an arrow guiding his lips to the very center of her chest. She shrugs off her coat and he moves his hands down her bare shoulders, running his fingertips down her arms. She shivers and feels her nipples harden underneath the soft, curve-hugging dress she's wearing. He senses this and brings his hands to her breasts, cupping them gently and letting his thumbs play over their generous surface.

They hold there a moment. Their eyes have adjusted enough to see each other's faces, pale and otherworldly in the half-light of the hallway. Both stop, breathing together. The pause is brief; she wraps her arms around him and pulls him against her, hard, kissing him deeply and letting a hand drift down his chest to where his cock hardens behind his pants. She breathes in sharply, wanting him so badly she can't help but put her hand against the skin under his shirt and slip it down, past his waistband, into his briefs, where she wraps her fingers around his cock. He presses into her and she feels him harden even more in her hands.

As he grabs her ass and buries his head in her neck, she strokes him slowly, up and down in gentle rhythm, lust growing as he becomes long and thick in her hand. He bites into her neck. She gasps and he can't wait any longer.He guides her backward forcefully, aiming her toward the first available surface—the kitchen counter. Newspapers and the morning mail are deposited unceremoniously onto the floor. He lifts her and reaches up underneath the dress, searching for her g-string; she moans at the contact of his fingers so close to her aching pussy. Allowing himself to be distracted, he smiles and trails his index finger up her thigh to the outside of her lips. She bites her lip and opens her legs, begging him silently to feel how wet she is for him. He moves the finger over her clit and the sweet electricity makes her close her eyes and moan again, a soft, quick sound that drives him wild with love and lust. She reaches forward and removes his belt, unbuttons his pants, unzips him and guides his briefs down in practiced motion. He slips a finger inside of her and feels her muscles clasp against him, aching for satisfaction. She successfully frees his cock and takes it once more in her hands, letting her fingers grasp the length of his shaft and swirl around the hot, sensitive tip.Guiding him towards her, she looks up at him and smiles. He kisses her gently. Their bodies press together and he takes her arms and moves them behind her. She jumps as she feels his cock pressing against her g-string insistently. The lingerie impedes his progress and he moves against it, thrusting gently until finally his dick slides by the soaking panties and starts to force itself inside of her. She throws her head back in ecstasy. His cock presses hard into her pussy and she feels him grind against the very back of her, filling her completely as he begins to pump in and out, slowly at first, feeling their bodies join with delicious friction as he fucks her. Something, a whisper, escapes her lips and he smiles and complies, moving faster and harder. Their breath nearly synchronizes. They speak to each other softly, sensuous words encouraging deeper, harder, faster, more, until both of them are breathless and hovering on the edge of release. With a final thrust they both come. The flood of feeling, warmth and wetness overtakes them. They hold each other, riding out their orgasms until they're cradling each other, exhausted and shaking.

She wraps her hands around his neck and kisses him softly. Their lips part, deepening the kiss. Pulling back slightly to kiss him on the cheek, she buries her head in the crook of his neck and hugs him tightly.The moonlight plays on their bodies. Lines of silver bring out first his eyes, then her hands, then the lines of their shoulders pressed together in the midnight haze.This is the only moment that exists.