I’m all about the guest posts these days . DIRTY DATES, a super hot collection edited by the awesome Rachel Kramer Bussel is out now. Rachel was nice enough to share a small selection from the anthology with us. Check it out and then go pick up DIRTY DATES!
Description: What happens when date night involves a blindfold, a corset, handcuffs, or a spanking? The couples in Dirty Dates combine kink and romance in this collection of erotic stories that provides plenty of ideas for your next sexy outing. Your 50th date can be even hotter than the first ones if you play by the rule of Rachel Kramer Bussel, which means NO rules at all except for an emphasis on pure pleasure. Rachel Kramer Bussel has quickly become America’s favorite erotic writer with dozens of best-selling books, awards, and deeply satisfied readers to her credit. Dirty Dates is a delectable collection of stories redolent with romance featuring two people in lust. From first dates to long-term lovers to hook-ups and missed connections, the common theme is coming together in every sense of the word!
by Morgan Sierra
Anyone who says he can receive a spanking without once flinching is a liar. Anticipation causes the flesh to tingle, every passing second stretching into an eternity. It’s the wait that excites, that makes the heart pound. The knowledge of a need about to be fulfilled, an arousal of nerve endings, causes the body to tense. The very moment there is movement, any flimsy signal, expectation gives rise to flinching.
But to my Mistress, any such pulling away from her is an affront.
“I’m cross enough with you as it is,” she says in a low voice. It is the one that lets me know I’ve pushed her too far. “I suggest you don’t let your thoughts distract you from paying attention.”
This woman dominates my every thought, draws from me every breath. When she walks into a room, I’m compelled to follow her, to linger on her every word. I want to protest that the world crumbling around my ankles wouldn’t be enough to distract me from her. Instead, I keep the words to myself.
“What should we do about your continued defiance, pet?” she continues in that gentle tone.
I’m already so aroused it hurts, which is also a very good thing. For her, I would gladly suffer more. She knows what it does to me to listen to the purr in her voice. Even when she’s voicing my inability to meet her expectations, the throaty sound tickles the inside of me.
She’s standing behind me now, wearing the filmy skirt that splits down the middle along with a black turtleneck. The shirt clings to her frame, stretching over her breasts—breasts that I have worshipped—and over her flat belly and sides. Anytime she walks in that skirt, my gaze drops to the slit almost automatically. It teases the imagination of any man fortunate enough to lay eyes on it.
This evening, the contrast between covering her neck yet at the same time flashing the inside of her shapely thigh with a single move isn’t lost to me. My Mistress is a lesson in contradiction.
Her eyes are blue like the waters of Barbados, her hair as dark as night. The thick crown of curls, along with an aristocratic bone structure, makes her seem like royalty. She’s refined and dainty, a pixie compared to me. From the moment we met, her power overwhelmed me, and through a slow process of trust and giving, she has become my world.
The mirror gives me the opportunity to watch her if I’m careful, and it alone has often saved my sanity when I’m at odds over how to please her. When she’s pushed me to the point of irretrievable lust, it is the mirror’s reflection that has rescued me in the past. Don’t ask me why, for I cannot explain it. Our time together is not always about sex, but about pleasing her. Through her satisfaction, I always receive my own.
Check out Rachel at www.rachelkramerbussel.com .