A glance at an untitled WIP - Chapter 1

There comes a point in everyone’s life when they wonder if they’ve made the right choices. Glenn was at that point as he rested his hands on the railing of the catwalk high above the stage. He had everything planned down the nth degree, as always. The AR-7 rested between his legs, scope attached. He could make his way from where he stood to the exit he needed even in the dark. He knew this because he’d practiced it several times over the last two days. One of the advantages of being on the backstage crew was the freedom of movement it gave him to roam the theater at will.

While he watched the show in progress, waiting for the moment when it was time to put his plan into action, part of his mind was lamenting the fact that, as always, he would be on a plane heading off to nowhere as soon as he was finished. Such was his life, one anonymous hotel room after another, no place to call home, no one to go home to even if he had had one.

“Maybe it’s time to find a new profession,” he murmured under his breath as he picked up the rifle. A fast check told him what he already knew, he was alone on the catwalk and would be for the next ten minutes.

He knelt, resting the rifle against one of the railing bars, peering through the scope to sight in on his target. He had no idea why the woman needed eliminating, and in this particular place, that was none of his business. It was his job to do it successfully, and in his own self-interests not to be caught afterwards.

The actress stood facing the actor playing her husband as they spoke their lines. Glenn knew he had one minute before she moved. He focused in on the top of her head and slowly pulled the trigger, once and then again. When the bullets hit there was a momentary dead silence and then the screams began as she fell to the stage floor.

Even as people rushed to his victim’s side and a few looked up into the fly space trying to locate him, Glenn was disassembling the rifle. He put the parts into the bag as he raced down the catwalk. When he reached the end he paused just long enough to strip off the black jumpsuit he’d been wearing, stuffing it into the bag as well. Now he was in the dark jeans and a navy turtleneck he’d worn when he came to work earlier that evening.

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he made his way up the ladder at the end of the catwalk to the grid at the top of the theater’s fly space. He knew he was virtually invisible from below but was taking no chances, especially when he heard the sound of feet coming up the ladder from the backstage area to the lighting grid. Obviously at least one crew member was willing to take the chance that they could find him before he got away.

Just ahead of him now, at the top of a final short ladder, was the emergency exit he needed. He had already disabled the alarm so he didn’t have to worry about it as he pushed the trapdoor open and leapt onto the slanted roof. The roof was still slick from an earlier rain shower so he was doubly careful as he made his way to edge and then over it to the fire escape. Before he started down he checked to make certain the alley was vacant of any observers, including any transients who might have sought shelter in one of the doorways. With no one in sight he sped down, jumping the last few feet to the pavement.

Then he strolled casually towards the street, stopping long enough to light a cigarette. When he reached the end of the alley he smiled tightly as two patrol cars came to a screeching stop in front of the theater. He turned in the opposite direction and was soon just another pedestrian out for a night on the town.

And now Rawiya's blog....

What I Need, More Interracial Gay Romance

Rawiya

Okay, I needed to blog about this because it’s been on my mind for a while. Where are all the interracial gay romances? Why is it even in when it comes to the rainbow colored door, we have so few of them. Can someone recommend some, please?

Now, I’ll be honest. I have not looked at EVERY publisher’s website but when I do look at some of my faves, I don’t see a lot of them. And when I do catch an interracial gay love story, it is usually a porn tale with no emotion or tension… WHAT GIVES!

I mean, not every black man has a large schlong, not all are in gangs, rough, tough, that have no feelings. Why is it that when it comes to even black gay men, it is still stereotypical.

By the covers, you can tell what the author wanted the characters to look like so I would think that if they were represented, you would be able to tell if it is an interracial story by just looking at the book or reading the blurb. I just did a quick look at 3 publishers, I only saw 3 stories out of about 400 book covers.

Now I know I need to look more extensively. I mean, I’m aware of E.Lynn Harris who writes black gay romance but if I’m correct, I don’t think he has done any interracial gay romance.

I’m looking to change that myself. If the pubs I submit to let me, I plan  to have lots of these because I truly feel it’s hot to have a bm/wm couple, both with little boundaries and inhibitions, falling in love, getting through the trials together with a happy ending. I’m looking for that although I know in real life there may not be a lot of interracial gay couples but again, I have not seen everything.

As a reader and writer, I would like to see this disturbing trend change. When I write, I want to open my readers mind to something new. When I read a fellow author, I would like to be brought into another world.

I recently did a blogpost on another authors site as promotion for three of my stories. When she posted it, she emailed me thanking me for drawing new people to her blogs because the content was “different.” I do write on a bunch of not so normal topics and as one fellow author told me, I write about things that exist but really don’t when it comes to characters in everyday erotica romance writing. I pen about gay baseball players who fall for transvestites, heavy metal rock stars who are on the dl but look for additional partners, AND black/white male couples who just like any hetero interracial couple go through the period of having the world stare at them. They are known as an “oddities.”

Let’s face it, I’m odd and I’m okay with that.

So in closing, please educate me. I want to be proven wrong. Where are all the gay interracial romances? Black man, Native American, Asian Man, doesn’t matter although I do have a preference for the ebony/ivory matchup. Still, if it’s good, I’ll read it…

I would like to thank Edward for hosting me on his blog. Here now is an excerpt from my next short story which is exactly the tale I’m looking for. A bm/wm relationship. In this one though, my white protagonist is looking for an older black man to be his “Sugar Daddy” part of the Whose Your Daddy anthology from STARbooks.

I hope you enjoyed my post.

Links

Michael Mandrake - http://tabooindeed.blogspot.com

Rawiya - http://rawiyaserotica.blogspot.com

Twitter - http://twitter.com/#!/rawiyamichaelm

Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/SharitaLira

Goodreads - http:// www.goodreads.com/michaelmrawiya

Livejournal - http://desiresdd.livejournal.com/

Sugar Daddy by Rawiya part of the Who's Your Daddy? by STARbooks Press

Not yet released Tentative date of Spring 2011

Blurb: A short story of a young man, Matthew Davidson, who is seeking the love of an older black man. When he goes to an internet dating site, he finds the man he is looking for but the ad calls for a black or Hispanic male. Interested, Matthew puts up the picture of his best friend, Devon Peartly who is Black. Now though, his chat buddy would like to meet him in person.

EXCERPT - R

“Ohhh…Antwon…God’s…ooh…” I cried, as he slipped his hardened muscle into my not so tight space. I loved the way he felt going inside me; I was always satisfied. My long legs were around his waist, binding him to me; ankles tickling the small of his back, nails digging into his cocoa skin.

“Matthew,” he growled before burying himself into my neck, nibbling on my pale flesh, his hands tangling in my brownish red locks. He ordered that I did not cut my hair and like the good little boy I am, I obeyed.

Contrary to what he was trying to say about breaking rules and doing so repeatedly, I convinced him that missing one day was not going to be a large issue. Besides, Devon could get my homework for me, I was already on the Dean’s list, and the term was close to ending. All that mattered to me was being in our new flat, that he’d just purchased so he could come see me whenever he wanted. He was also preparing for what would be a messy situation. In a few days, he was letting his wife know that he was leaving her, for me; the kid that he invited back to his house as part of the father/son mentoring program. A cover up to get me into his house that he might end up relinquishing because of a messy divorce that was to come.

This, all because daddy wanted a little cream to go along with his dark chocolate; I was the milk he needed to complete him. My sugar daddy could not deny that feeling anymore, despite how hard he tried to fight it.

A beautiful blog from Blak Rayne

I don't know how I got so lucky but two lovely women are blog swapping with me today, Blak Rayne and Rawiya. I'll go alphabetically as they are both quite wonderful blogs.

* * * * *

Why Are All The Good Ones Gay?

Now this is me talking, Blak Rayne, and yes I am a Caucasian, heterosexual woman married with children–not some mysterious, sexless entity who likes to hide in the basement and pen dirty books! LOL I wanted to do something special, so my post is a little more personal this time. I thought I’d tell you a story and then maybe you’d understand why I write about the topics I do, and why my style is different from many other authors.

Is being gay a blessing–some miracle state of body and mind? I have no interest in the religious arguments and I’m not here to pass judgment or bounce the political bullshit around. I’m here to tell you what happened to me in my late teens and how it affected my life. 

As a teenager in the eighties, growing up in the greater Vancouver region, I had a number of friends who were gay and bi. Back then (oh how cliché) homosexuality wasn’t something people openly discussed. It was a sexual taboo, deeply misunderstood and thought to have somehow caused the onslaught of AIDS.

Getting back to my friends… Those that were gay kept it to themselves always fearful of how their peers would react. For me, I was raised Baptist and even at an early age I’d developed my own sense of belief and sexual preference was one of those things that never bothered me. I was and still am more concerned with the environment, what the government does without the public’s knowledge and our lack of judicial reform. As far as sexual preference goes, it’s a personal choice just as ones taste in books and not reflective of whom that individual is. But let’s get one thing straight…that doesn’t mean I agree with an illegal sexual act–I do have to draw the line somewhere.

Later, after I left high school, I moved away and ended up spending more time in Vancouver (the big city). And wow, let me tell you, that was an eye-opener. The homeless people, drugs, gangs and prostitutes–I gathered a lifetime of wisdom from the one year I spent on the streets. I met this cute kid one morning. He was begging in front of the Eaton’s store on Granville. He pleaded with me, but he didn’t have to–I would’ve given him all the money in the world if it meant he was off the streets. I gave him ten bucks and half my pack of cigarettes. I’ll never forget that smile. He called me beautiful and thanked me. Then he chased me for blocks wanting to know my name. All right, like I said he was cute. I told him my name and we had breakfast at McDonalds together. Then I met his friends and well…you get the picture.

As it turned out, he was a prostitute. I used to play watchdog for a number of young male prostitutes and my God those poor kids. I was nineteen and they were between the ages of seventeen to twenty. My job was to write down the license plate number and vehicle model when they picked up a john. And that way if anything happened, the police would have something to investigate–at least a starting point. I also fed those boys and put them up in hotels. In essence I became their den mother. By the end of that first week I brought three of them home, to my apartment in Poco, because this pimp from the women’s strip was threatening them.

I’ll never forget that night as long as I live. I walked out of a local diner with three of the boys and this white Cadillac pulls up to the curb. A huge–and I mean massive black man gets out and points a gun at my head. It was broad daylight and he’s threatening me. I guess I had tread into his territory. He said the male hookers were his because they were walking down the other end of the street where his women were located. I’m not sure why but I didn’t feel fear, I was more angry than anything and I told him if he didn’t get his black ass out of my face the police would get a call. Yes, I know, call me dumbass! It was a really stupid thing to do. But you’d never believe it… He got back in the car and we never saw him again.

It was around this same time that I met, Andy (not his real name). Andy was a gay man who used to dress up (drag) and perform at all the gay/alternative bars in down town Vancouver. He wasn’t a big fellow, perhaps five foot nine, dark eyes and attractive but average features. He had a slender build and was very flamboyant. He was my sweetheart and the love of my life at the time. There was one club where he performed more than anywhere else and I rarely missed his act. I practically lived with Andy. We were inseparable. He became my confidant as I did for him. We used to cuddle each other at night. We hung out all year. It’s a relationship I’ve never forgotten and I’ve yet to duplicate. I felt this man was my soul mate and if we could’ve had sex it would’ve made our relationship complete. But as he always said to me with a laugh and kiss, ‘Why couldn’t you be a man, baby?’ It was a strange twist of fate, I suppose, that we fell for one another but couldn’t enjoy total fulfillment. 

Near the end of the summer this other man entered the picture. I knew it would happen eventually but I also knew the guy was bad news. Andy was performing at the club when this guy appeared–a rough looking sort; brawny, dirty blond and not what I’d call attractive. I didn’t voice my opinion until much later–something I still regret. Anyway, Andy started seeing this asshole, which I’ll refer to as Bruce. Several months into the dating, Andy, at Bruce’s instigating, took the guy back to his apartment. This was a huge no-no. Normally Andy never took strange guys back to his place unless I was there because he’d been hurt once before and barely survived. There are some men who enjoy raping gay men, knowing ninety-nine percent of the time they can get away with it because the victims won’t press charges. I was out with the boys taking down license plate numbers. Hours later I headed to Andy’s with a brown bag full of Chinese food. It was a Friday night and I wanted to surprise him. Let’s put it this way, the moment I set foot through the door I knew Andy was in trouble. The furniture was knocked over–the place was a mess. He was hiding in the bathroom. It took me a good fifteen minutes of sweet talk to convince him I wasn’t mad. And my God, his face was so swollen there was no way he could perform for at least a week. When Andy refused anal sex, Bruce felt the need to smack him around as punishment. 

I helped clean up the apartment and we stayed indoors for a full week. Andy was too ashamed to go out in public and I couldn’t leave him like that. I cared too much. So we lay on the couch watching US sitcom reruns and eating junk food. Plus we did a lot of talking. I don’t know what Bruce said to Andy exactly because he was too scared to tell me, but whatever it was, it put the fear of God into him. He didn’t want to go anywhere alone and insisted I live with him full time.

About a week later when Andy felt strong enough to perform, the phone calls started. Not only was this asshole a sexual deviant he turned out to be a stalker as well. The next month was a living nightmare. I became Andy’s shadow and he refused to leave my side. What I should’ve done was gone to the police. Okay, so here’s the thing…after all the death threats, phone calls, notes and the words ‘you’re dead fag’ carved in the apartment door the guy just up and vanished. It was so quiet for a few days, I seriously thought we were rid of him. Then after one of the shows, Andy and I were walking home, holding hands. Andy was still wearing his floor length, sparkling sapphire gown and high heals. I was in my, boots, jeans and leather jacket–yep I was a regular biker biatch! LOL Anyway, we rushed into the building and Bruce is standing in the lobby. Andy slowly kicked his heals off and I stood in front of him. It was after midnight and there wasn’t another soul around. I told Bruce to fuck off and if he didn’t the shit was going to hit the fan (well something to that affect because I was just so stupid!) LOL Bruce blew up of course and the three of us got into a tussle. I was punched a number of times and Andy’s four hundred dollar gown was torn. Then a neighbour heard the ruckus and strolled out into the lobby. Bruce was gone in an instant. Andy and I were shaken, but returned to the apartment. 

Thank you for your patience, I do appreciate it. And yes, my story is almost done.

Well, we cried together that night. Andy kissed me a lot and told me how sorry he was to involve me in his shitty existence. I told him, I didn’t care as long as he was okay. Another two weeks slipped by and we never saw Bruce again. I honestly believed everything would be just fine. It was a Saturday night, late, when we said goodbye. He was dressed to the nines as usual, looking better than me when he kissed me and told me he loved me, and we’d meet after the show.

I never saw Andy again. The club where he was performing caught fire and the building was so old it was gutted in a matter of minutes. Later two bodies were discovered under the rubble. Supposedly the owner and Andy were the only ones left inside. They died from smoke inhalation. The papers said the fire was suspicious but no one was ever charged. I sat on the curb across from the burnt out building crying my eyes out. Though I can’t prove it, I think Bruce set the fire. The word on the street was that someone wanted Andy dead. Well the asshole succeeded and I was left to wander the city aimlessly for days in tears with a broken heart, praying I’d see Andy again but of course I never did. The whole thing was too much. I left Vancouver and never set foot on Granville again until the 2010 Winter Olympics. I’ve driven past the site many times and every time I do I still feel the ache. 

Happy Yaoi Hunting ^_^!!

Blak Rayne 

It's out...

'Everyone's Man' is out today at Silver Publishing.

Buy link - http://silverpublishing.info/product_book_info/new-release-c-1/everyone-s-man-p-185

Not again you say....

Indeed, again. I've been interviewed by the lovely Jeanne St. James at http://www.jeannestjames.blogspot.com/?zx=7f519846dbaa1bd7

I was interviewed at Novel Sisterhood

One of my best friends and the woman who has taught me a hell of a lot about a lot of things -grinning- has interviewed me at Novel Sisterhood. Thanks for everything, Hales.

You can find it at http://novelsisterhood.blogspot.com/2011/02/please-welcome-author-edward-kendrick.html

Shadows (Another short read)

He stood in the darkness at the window, watching.

The light silhouetted the woman as she stretched and then pulled off
her top. She ran her hands over her breasts for a moment, the angle
of the light accenting their fullness.

He began to stroke himself, licking his lips in anticipation.

Slowly she pushed her slacks down, bending to finish removing them
before her shadow moved out of view. It came back moments later. She
had something in one hand. With her other hand she released her long
hair from it bindings.

He watched as her hair flowed down, covering her shoulders.

Lifting one foot onto the shadow chair she began to brush her hair,
throwing an enticing outline of her long, lithe body on the curtain
that covered her window.

He hardened even more, imagining. Then he growled.

The shadow of a male appeared behind the woman. The man reached out,
taking the brush from her, tossing it away. Then his arms went around
her, hands cupping her breasts.

Who was this interloper that was intruding on his fantasies?

The woman's form turned, pressing against the man as they kissed. The
man's hands slid down her back to grasp her marvelously rounded ass.

He began stroking himself again, so hard he ached.

Soon the man pulled away from the woman. The shadow of his fingers
traced the over her lips. Then the man knelt in front of her.

He knew what the man was doing. He imagined her taste.

The woman's hands grasped the man's head as she arched back, her hips
moving in obvious rhythm to the strokes of his tongue. After a small
eternity the man leaned back looking up at her.

"Don't stop," he whispered, watching the silhouettes, his hand
pumping his engorged shaft.

The shadow of the man stood, his erection obvious. The woman grasped
it with one hand, using the other one to cup his balls for a moment.
Then she sank to her knees, taking the man into her mouth.

His hand moved faster. He groaned as he watched the shadows, wanting
it to be him that she was sucking.

The woman stopped, looking up at the man. He bent, helping her to
stand before turning the chair so that she could grasp the back. The
outline of his hands stroked her buttocks before he moved away, out
of view. He returned seconds later, rubbing his thick shaft. Then the
man placed one hand on her hip, holding himself with the other one.

He watched, biting hard on his lower lip to keep from coming then and
there.

The woman's shadow bent forward to accept the man's erection. It slid
slowly into her waiting ass until their two silhouettes became one.
The man's hands slid around her and she took one, guiding the
extended fingers inside her.

He groaned, aching with need, pumping himself in time to their moving
shadows.

The coupled man and woman rode each other in silhouette until their
orgasms hit and they arched against each other, mouths open in primal
screams of pleasure.

He joined them, shouting out his release.  

Please welcome Blak Rayne ....

 ... with a fascinating blog about ... well you'll see. -grinning-

Bite Me Big Boy ~

Can you believe some people enjoy pain during sex… I'm not going to touch on the subject of BDSM as I know very little about it and though I have admittedly tested the waters in the past, it isn't something that particularly appealed to me. In my books that sort of pain DOES NOT = pleasure but then again I've got a serious hair fetish (no please don't go…) **the sounds of the narrators voice echoes through the microphone as everyone swiftly exit stage left** Yes, I said hair fetish! LOL And I Iove large hands. Okay, I'm going to stop before I dig my own proverbial grave. The type of pain I'm talking about is biting. Which I've discovered more people are in to than we realize. All right I had a guy bite my neck once and because I was half loaded, horny and all over him it did feel slightly pleasurable. Now years later and after all the men I've dated, lived with and married, not one offered to bite me–many other questionable offers, but none of the vampyric kind.

Here is how it works ladies and gentlemen (and this is direct more towards the men at the moment). Chewing, nibbling and biting are all good things, provided you are in a decent relationship with your woman and there's mutual respect. Plus I'd advise you ask her permission first. If she's not drunk like I was and a horny little devil she will undoubtedly notice it when you press your choppers in. 

Never do the biting or nibbling in a mechanical way. Always nuzzle your face into neck, caress and show passion or wherever you prefer to add the spice, while using your hands to massage her body. Both sensations can work very well in conjunction with one another. A couple of the more receptive areas of the woman's body are her back, neck, shoulders, nipples, thighs and clit which includes the labia majora/minora (pussy lips). These areas contain some of the most sensitive concentrations of nerve endings therefore you must be gentle in your approach. For men (m/m) it's my understanding that the nipples, neck, buttocks, thighs, foreskin and even scrotum can prove to be enjoyable biting spots. Edward can you verify this? Just teasing, hun! LOL 

Even the Kama Sutra has tips on what is called 'sensual biting'. And as anything else when it comes to the passing of bodily fluids or the contact of human flesh, always keep yourself clean. Brush your teeth. The human mouth is a bacteria factory. Never draw blood. Accidents do happen, in the heat of the moment, and if it does clean the wound thoroughly with hot soapy water then rinse, and it would be recommended to wipe the area with hydrogen peroxide or some type of antibacterial solution that can be applied to the skin–either that or head to the doctor. Whatever your fetish, be careful and exhibit respect at all times for your partner because if you don't you could get bitten in the wrong spot! 

Thanks for having me, Edward! Edward has swapped with me today–blogs that is. I’ve interviewed him @ http://blakraynebooks.blogspot.com/ Check it out!

Happy Yaoi Hunting!^_^!!

Blak Rayne

Blog swapping with Blak Rayne

The gods willing and the creek don't rise Blak Rayne and I will be swapping blogs on Friday the 11th, and then twice a month thereafter. You can find Blak Rayne at http://blakraynebooks.blogspot.com/?zx=19082780bf16ee88

And four to go.

Taking the man's shaft in one hand the friend stroked it while cupping his balls with her other hand.

The man groaned, pain and pleasure mixing in his body.

The newcomer continued to ride the man, his balls slapping against the man's ass with each thrust in.

Slowly the pain itself became pleasure for the man. He relished it, moving to meet each thrust from the newcomer because as he did so his cock rode the friend's hand which was wrapped tightly around it.

The friend knew he hungered for release. She bent forward, her tongue teasing the tip of his shaft, tasting, licking, intensifying his desire. Then she stopped, moving away from him.

The newcomer thrust in one more time, hard and deep, and then withdrew. He strode to the bed and the women moved, allowing him to settle between them.

The friend straddled him, smiling back over her shoulder at the man as she lowered herself onto the newcomer's engorged shaft. Slowly she rode him until the newcomer grabbed her hips. He flipped her over, still inside of her, and began riding her hard and fast.

The girl watched as she played with herself.

The man sobbed, begging them to give him the release his body so desperately craved.

They laughed as one by one they exploded, crying out their pleasures.

When it was over the friend slipped off the bed, once more moving behind the man, wrapping her hands around his cock, stroking it while he continued to beg.

"This, my dear husband is what happens when you decide to play around," she whispered.

Then she beckoned to the others, and one by one they left the room

Three to get ready......

(OOC warning -  This part will not be everyone's cup of tea. I warned you these were written when I was in a very bad place in my life)

The man heard someone enter the room when the friend opened the door and wondered who.

The girl smiled. "Oh you'll like him, he can be very entertaining," she told the man as she looked past him at the newcomer.

The newcomer bent to kiss the friend, allowing her to stroke him for a moment. "Thank you for inviting me," he said his voice a low rumble. He walked to the bed, moving to the side so that the man could see him.

The man's eyes widened.

The newcomer was tall and broad, his body well muscled. In one hand he held a crop which he flicked lightly against the tall boots that were his only clothing. As he examined the man a cruel smile crossed on his face. "This should be fun," he said walking behind the man.

The man gave a shout of surprise as the crop lashed across his back. He bit down hard on his lower lip not to cry out again as it hit twice, and once more.

The girl was still kneeling on the bed. She licked her lips, a look of hunger in her eyes. She ran a fingernail along the man's cock. "You'll be begging for more pain before he's finished, they always do," she whispered.

"Never," he choked out, struggling against the cuffs, trying to avoid the crop that was now slashing the cheeks of his ass.

"You will." She took his hard shaft in her hand and leaned down to stroke her tongue over the tip.

The man arched towards her, wanting more. Instead he felt her wrap something around the base of his balls and cock.

She laughed. "Not yet, the lessons have hardly begun and there will be no release until they're over, not for you." She backed away into the arms of the friend who was now behind her.

The friend began stoking the girl's clit, watching what was happening in front of them.

The newcomer slid his hands between the man's legs, forcing them apart, and then struck again, the crop biting the insides of his thighs. Then he tossed the crop onto the bed.

The man sighed with relief, and then bit back a shout.

The newcomer chuckled as he inserted a second finger into the man, stretching his hole even more. "He is a virgin," he told the women.

Again the man struggled, trying to pull away.

The newcomer wrapped his arm around the man's waist, whispering in his ear. "You're going to like this, eventually, once the pain goes away."

The man felt the newcomer's hard cock pressing against him for a moment and then it was gone. For a second he thought they had changed their minds, until he felt something cool and oily being rubbed over his hole. Lubricated fingers pushed into him, stretching him even more, and then pulled out.

The newcomer pressed the tip of his engorged member at the entrance of the man's rectum and very slowly thrust in, inch by inch, his hands on the man's hips to hold him still.

The women watched, playing with each other, their eyes alight with excitement as the man moaned in pain.

Suddenly the newcomer drove his huge cock deeply into the man laughing gleefully when the man screamed and tried to pull away. "Now that I like," the newcomer said as he began to ride the man.

The man thought he'd die from the pain. He cried out again and again as the newcomer plunged into him over and over.

The friend continued to stroke the girl, her fingers deep inside of her. "Enjoy his suffering, it will make your pleasure greater," she said, feeling the girl's muscles tightening as she started to come.

The girl watched the man as her orgasm hit, his agony escalating it for her. When she finally came down, still shivering with delight, the friend moved close to the man.

Two for the show

He followed the girl to the foot of the bed, stopping when she held up her hand.

The friend stayed where she was for the moment, admiring his body. Then she came forward and took his hands, glancing at the girl.

Nodding, the girl went to open the drawer of the bedside table, taking out two pairs of cuffs. She locked one on each of his wrists, smiling as she did so, and then she lifted one wrist while the friend took the other. Each woman attached the other end of a cuff to the top bar of the canopy bed.

"Do you think he's comfortable?" the friend asked.

"For the moment," the girl answered, looking at his outspread arms.

The man, nodded, testing his restraints and finding they were more secure than he'd expected.

The two women moved on to the bed, looking at each other. The girl ran her tongue over her lips and the friend smiled before tangling her hands in the girl's hair and pulling her close, kissing her passionately.

The man watched and his body responded even more to what he saw.

Slowly the women undressed each other, taking their time, stroking and caressing what was revealed as each item of clothing was shed.

The girl ran her fingers along the edge of the friend's thong, watching the man as she did.

He licked his lips in expectation.

The friend lay back on the bed, arching her hips so the girl could pull the thong down and then spreading her legs, revealing all to the man. Her swollen clit throbbed and her nether lips were shining with moisture.

The girl began to stroke her, eliciting moans of pleasure. Then she slipped her own thong off.

The friend beckoned the girl to her, flicking her tongue invitingly.

The girl turned to straddle the friend, lowering herself until her tongue could lave her. Her hands cupped the friend's breasts and her thumbs stroked the hardened nipples. Slowly she leaned forward, tracing her tongue over the friend's swollen nub.

The friend arched up with a sigh, and then moaned with need as the tongue entered her.

The man watched, his body aching with desire.

The two women continued to make love to each other with tongues and fingers, until they both arched and screamed out their mutual releases.

As the waves of pleasure faded the girl rose and moved to the man, kneeling to pull his head down so she could kiss him.

He tasted the flavor of the friend's juices on the girl's tongue and shivered with need to savor the source.

The girl smiled, moving away to sit beside her lover. "Shall we?" she asked.

The friend cocked her head, looking at the man. "Perhaps, perhaps not." She slipped off the bed, going to stand behind the man, pressing her body against him as she wrapped one hand around his swollen cock.

The girl slid closer to him, again raking her nails down his chest.

He drew in a sharp breath.

The girl grinned. "I wonder…"

"Umm?" the friend murmured, her hand still wrapped around his shaft.

"If he's a virgin?"

"Well hardly, unless you mean…" The friend released the man, stepping back, running one finger up to his puckered hole, smiling.

He tried to move away from the probing finger.

The girl had pressed herself against him, holding him there. "I think he is. I imagine there are many things he's never experienced, poor man. I do believe he needs some lessons."

The friend chuckled. "I know just the person to give them to him." She turned away, going to the door and opening it.

Small announcement

Well, a big one actually -grinning- I just signed a contract for my second book, 'Lies and Misunderstandings', with Silver Publishing. - E.

One for the money...

((A BDSM story in four parts))

The girl watched the dancers, smiling slightly. They looked so happy, all of them. She leaned back against the wall, waiting. Soon it would be her turn.

The man stopped, looking down at the woman in his arms. "That was very nice. Thank you." He escorted her to the edge of the dance floor and walked away, looking.

A shadow crossed over the girl. She glanced up into deep green eyes and held out her hand.

They danced the rest of the evening together. At first as strangers, then as friends, then as two who wanted each other. As the last song ended he looked down at her.

"Does it end here?"

"No."

She slipped her hand into his, letting him lead her out of the building.

"Where would you like to go?" he asked.

She told him.

He nodded, leading her to his car.

As they drove off she laid her hand on his thigh, enjoying the feel of his taut muscles.

He took her hand, moving it so that she knew of his need for her and she stroked him, smiling.

"Soon," she whispered.

When they arrived he came around to open her door, and escorted her up the stairs to the front door.

Inside, he tilted her chin to kiss her.

"No, not yet, my friend isn't here yet."

"Your friend?"

"You'll see, soon." She took his hand, leading him to the stairway. "You'll like her."

As they started up he head a door open and turned.

"Hello lover," the friend said.

"What? Why are you here?"

"To have some fun." She walked to the girl and kissed her, and then turned, kissing the man. Taking both their hands she guided them the rest of the way to the bedroom.

His heart beat faster, his desire doubled, as he realized what was in store for him.

The girl put her hands on his shoulders. "Now I kiss you." She did, her tongue first tracing over his lips, tasting them, and then slipping between them, probing.

He put his hands on her hips, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.

The friend moved behind him, slipping her hand between his body and the girl's, stroking the hardness of him.

He groaned, anticipating.

The girl broke the kiss, stepping back with a smile. "You are too covered, we should do something about that." She looked over at the friend. "Shouldn't we?"

The friend said nothing but leaned against the man's back, her hands sliding up to his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

The girl watched, and when the shirt slipped off him she traced one finger nail over his nipple, eliciting a hiss from him. She bit her lip as she raked her long nails down his chest, watching his eyes open in surprise.

"You liked that, I know you did."

The friend whispered to him. "She loves to leave her mark, but you'll find you like it, eventually."

"Still too over dressed," the girl said as she slid the zipper on his slacks down, freeing his rigid shaft, then pushing them down over his hips, watching as they slid down his strongly muscled legs. "Come," she said, moving to the foot of the bed, beckoning him to follow.

A short story - 'Submission'

I don't usually do BDSM stories. However on occasion, when I'm in a particularly strange, usually foul, mood I'll come up with one. 'Submission' is the first. - E.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Submission

"What do you want from me?" she whimpered, looking at the bonds that held her.

"You complete and utter submission to my will," he answered with a sneer. "You dared to disobey me."

She hung her head whispering, "I love him."

"That doesn't matter, I want him. You were told to bring him to me." He looked around the room. "I don't see him here."

The whip descended, biting into her back and she moaned.

"When I'm finished you will disgust him. Do you think he'll want a woman who needs this," the whip descended again, "before she can be satisfied?"

"No," she sobbed, sickened as she felt her body begin to respond after only two strokes.

It has always been like this, her need for what he gave her. She watched as he came to stand in front of her, refusing to look away even as she knew she should keep her head bowed in submission. He smiled, tapping her chin with the handle of the whip.

"You have become defiant because of this man."

The handle moved lower, tracing small circles around her taut nipples before he reversed his hold on the whip, flicking it so that it bit into them. She cried out in pain at the same time that she arched her back so that her breasts reached towards him in need for what he was giving her.

He laughed, a bitter sound, and flicked the whip again. "Why do you force me to do this? I had one small request, invite him to join us. Let him see what you are, what you desire. Let him become a participant in our games or turn away and leave you."

"He would rather die than join us."

"Are you so sure?" He stepped forward, cupping her breasts in his hands, rolling the nipples between his fingers until she was moaning from pain and pleasure. "How could a man resist seeing his woman desire what he can give her?"

"Not this, he'd never want to do this to me, he loves me." She looked down, watching his hands on her.

He chuckled. "I love you too and yet I do this, willingly, and you accept it, willingly."

His hands moved lower, stroking, caressing until they reached her center. "Spread you legs for me," he ordered and she did, moaning as his fingers rubbed over her clit, knowing what came next and hating herself for needing it. The whip flicked again and once more, biting into her tenderness and she cried out.

"Interesting, " a voice said from behind her. "I would never have thought to do that."

Two arms reached around her, hands covering her breasts, squeezing, and lips kissed the back of her neck.

"My little innocent, my small flower who wanted only to be caressed and gently teased into desire has another side."

The man in front of her smiled, cupping her face in his hands so that she had to look at him. "You would not ask him so I did." He bent, kissing her, forcing his tongue between now unwilling lips.

She tried to pull away but another hand tangled into her hair, holding her there. Another voice told her, "Submit to us."

And she did.