To Rim or Not to Rim, That is the Question

After last week's post about a particular sexual act that I find rather unsettling, I thought we'd tackle another, since an open and frank discussion seemed to ensue.  Love that you all shared a little and jumped in and had your say.  Was much appreciated and made it a very enjoyable post.

So...on to the next topic.

Analingus.  No, it isn't a fungus.  Har-har.  The Rim-job or Rimming is what you've probably heard it called more often than not.  It's one of those taboo sexual acts that has people moving to either far ends of the spectrum.  So, it's a winner in my book just to get people to talk.

Personally, I've been in situations where I've been enjoying some oral pleasure, on the receiving end, and slip-boom-bam, a guy's tongue is in the nether hole.  First time, assume it's a little slip of the tongue (pun intended) and think he's so into it, that it just kinda happened.  But then a few seconds later, that tongue is back there, slinking around.  And ooh, we have a little freak.  Nothing wrong with a little freak, I like a little freaky-deeky.

Rimming is not something I am interested in giving, but if it is something a guy wants to give (and a lot of men I have been with seem to enjoy giving it) I let him go.  It doesn't really do anything for me sexually, but if it turns him on, then okay, it's not hurting me and he likes it, so whatever.

I came on this topic because one of my male heroes does it to his heroine.  It just kind of got typed in, the character went there.  It seemed natural to the scene and it just kind of flabbergasted me a little as to where it came from.

Then I started to worry about it.  Would the readers struggle with it?  I asked some of my fellow authors, who are some of the most open people I know, and the majority said, "bah, nothing wrong there!"  Will the general public agree with that philosophy?  Who knows.

Homoerotic romance novels seem to offer it more often than heterosexual romance.  Men seem to be more open to this kind of loving.  Which makes me wonder what is the difference in the male and female psyche that opens one to other experiences?  It's quite similar to the facial question.  Men are pro, the vast majority of the females that jumped into the ring were anti-facials.  Are men just wired to be ready for an anything goes sexual encounter?

So I went to the internet, to get the vibe from across the board.  Again, men seemed to find it pleasing, women, not so much.  But the why's behind it were really not there.

While on my search, I found a sexual therapist that had a very interesting take on the subject.  I hadn't considered his perspective on the topic, but it made absolute and complete sense:

In addition, lovemaking draws much of its emotional power from intimacy, lovers' deep acceptance of each other. Analingus is a way for the rimmer to say: "I love all of you. No part of you turns me off." It's a way for the rimmee to say: "I'm totally yours. No part of me is off limits to you." Such mutual acceptance can be a powerful turn-on.

Considered in that way, it almost makes me feel guilty for not being more open-minded into offering that particular "service" to the men I've cared about.  Is it the media, the one who helps support the self-consciousness of many females, as well as the in-grained response some women still hold on to that to enjoy certain acts makes her a slut, to blame for a woman not being able to be more open to particular sexual acts?

I will say, that as I age, my thoughts on sex have evolved.  As a younger female, I was more prudish and unable to enjoy certain acts.  My mind mellowed as I realized that pleasure is pleasure and if it feels good, do it.  Yes, I still have my lines I choose not to cross, but we all do. 

But broken down, it all makes sense logically.  The anal area has many of the same nerve endings that the vagina/penile area have and for many, touching that area erotically can be a real turn on. Dental dams can be used so there is no direct touching if sanitary concerns persist if it is something one wants to attempt.

Then there is the taboo.  There is a mental stranglehold on many of us that screams WRONG WRONG WRONG when we consider certain acts.  Even after my research and perspective change, rimming still makes me a little squeamish, but then again, there is no one currently in my life that I love.  If I had an intimate partner, one who I truly cared for, would my mind-set change?

It's currently not on my open options to offer a man.  But not to say it will remain that way forever.  I'm starting to learn to never say never.  

So, now I've given you MY OPINION on the matter.  Please, step up and tell me what you think!  To rim or not to rim, that is the question.

Six Sentence Sunday - Forty

Sticking with Deviant Knights, which is out 6/6.

Our heroine, Kadence, uses artwork to excise the man who meets her every single night in her dreams.  He's taken over her thoughts, but the artwork seems to only make it worse, not better.

"And now, she was so used to drawing the sculpted lines of his handsome face, that no matter what she began to draw, it always seemed to become about him.

Expressively blue eyes were framed by a strong brow and a straight nose.  His cheekbones were high, but the firm, chiseled edge of his chin didn’t allow his face to look feminine in any way.  Light, brown hair was longer than what she usually liked in a man, but it looked right for him. The soft curls ended just below the nape and would cover a collar, if he’d ever been dressed in any of her dreams.  A very tall, thick, muscled body was something hard to rage against her softness." 

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Guest Blogger - Alex Bowman

Welcome Alex Bowman to mah blog today.  Alex is a fellow Virginian and lives in my backyard.  Well, if that backyard was thirty minutes away.  But I digress.  Alex is a brand spanking new Paranormal MM author who's first release just came out on Monday.  The first in The Soul Collectors series, Losing His Religion is an introduction of sorts to a new world.

Alexandra O'Hurley (AOH):  Welcome Alex, can you tell us a little about the new book?

Alex Bowman (AB):  Thanks for having me.  Losing His Religion is the story of Jamie and Ios.  Jamie is a demon fighting Soul Collector and Ios is an otherworldly male that is driven to protect him.  Jamie is fated to be Ios's mate, but Jamie is struggling with his attraction to another male, and later struggles even more when he finds out that Ios isn't human.

AOH:  What is a Soul Collector? 

AB: A Soul Collector has the ability to save a dying human soul from being stolen by a demon and carried to Hell.  The soul then resides within him until he eventually dies and goes onwards himself.  Each soul he collects gives him more strength and power to fight the rising tide of evil demons.

AOH:  Ios is otherworldly?  No more deets on that?

AB:  LOL, no "deets." Just know that Jamie was orphaned at a young age, and he found his abilities when his one and only friend died tragically in front of him as a teen in the orphanage.  The first soul he saved was that friend's.  So when he finds out that Ios is "other", he struggles with it.

But to make it a little easier on everyone, there will be plenty of demons, fey, vamps, angels, and potentially more coming down the pipe.

AOH: Fine, don't give details.  Are you working on anything else?

AB:  I just contracted a short for the upcoming Evernight Publishing MM Anthology.  Titled "Diamond:  The Men of Rock Candy," it centers on a male exotic dancer and his bouncer best friend who has loved him for years, never having the courage to tell him.  That is, not until he watches a special dance that makes it impossible for him to hold back.

I also just finished outlining the next two books in The Soul Collector series.

And I suppose it might be a nice time now to tell the world WE are working on more titles for "The Men of Rock Candy" Series?

AOH:  Fine, just let the cat out of the bag, whydontcha?

Yes, we are working together on this series to appeal to both the MF and MM audience.  I will be writing the MF titles, and Alex will be writing the MM ones.  May even add in some MFM if the stories take us there.  A series by Alex O and Alex B.

AB:  Sounds like blood types.

AOH:  O Positive!  Everyone loves me.

AB:  *Snort.

AOH:  Keep it up and this post will go bye-bye.

AB:  (Eyes-rolling)  Everybody loves you!

AOH:  --.--  That's it.  End of interview.

The Soul Collectors, 1

Discarded most of his life, Jamie had learned as a teen that he was a Soul Collector, one of a mysterious group who fought the demons that attacked fellow humans.  Cast out into the world, alone, the orphan fought hard to find his way, ending up in a seminary of all places.  But chastity wasn’t a problem. He had no time or trust for relationships, let alone love.

Ios felt protective of the Soul Collector, the one the prophecy claimed would one day be his mate.  Following the human for years, Ios had done everything he could to ensure his safety without stepping out of the shadows.  He also held his lust in check, knowing Jamie would never accept him.

The time was upon them to join forces.  Could Jamie handle who and what Ios was, and trust the growing feelings between them before it was too late?
 Be Warned: m/m sex



Excerpt:

“So did you?”

“Did I?”

“Know I was yours the moment you saw me?”  Jamie pinned him with a look of lust he’d never quite seen flash on the man’s face before.

Mine.  Ios’s felt the rush of need spiral through him with such force that it nearly took him to his knees.  His cock thickened and he felt his balls tighten.  His whispered “Yes…” floated on the air, his body trembling with the hard-won control to stand in place and not cross the room and force the human to the floor under him.

“I don’t know that I believe in fated lovers, predetermined to find one another.”

“I’m not asking you to believe in anything.”  Ios believed enough for the both of them.  

“I will admit, there is something…”  

Something?  “What?” He needed Jamie to say it, that he wanted Ios.  Needed Ios.

Jamie’s face flamed and he glanced down, apparently unable to put the emotions he felt into words.

Fuck it.  Control is overrated.

Ios stomped across the small space, grasped Jamie’s head in his hands and pressed his lips against the smoldering heat of the human’s mouth.  Swallowing the gasp of pleasure, he thrust his tongue into Jamie’s mouth and tasted the ale left lingering there, as well as the heat and taste of his male.

When he felt Jamie’s hands spreading across his chest and moving down his stomach, he tightened his whole body, needing for the hands to venture further south, needing the male to show him that he wanted more through his exploration.  As warm hands rubbed against his hardened cock through his jeans he could have shouted in joy.  He deepened the kiss, pressing his hips forward, languishing in the caress from his male.

Ripping the shirt open, baring Jamie’s chest, the tinkering of buttons hitting the stone floor echoed around him.  Ios spread his fingers along the hard muscles before him.  Jamie removed the shirt, dropping it to the floor.  The material puddled around his feet and Ios wanted more to follow.  His shaking fingers pulled at the belt buckle Jamie wore, and he tugged at the leather, not wanting to remove his lips from the human’s.

Pulling back, he was afraid the moment would be lost if he could not keep Jamie in a frenzy.  His need was too great.  He could not be denied this time.  Ios would have the male now, or he would explode.

Warm hands steadied his.  “Let me.”

Jamie gazed into his eyes, slowly removing the belt and dropping it to the floor.  His hands then went to the top of his pants and he unbuttoned them.  The slow pull of the zipper reminded him that he was overclothed as well.  Ios removed his t-shirt in a flash and kicked off his shoes.  By the time his pants were gone, Jamie also stood naked.  

His hands ached to touch the male, to explore every single inch of flesh he had to offer up for his inspection.  Jamie was beautiful.  Small, firm muscles curved over his slim build, his skin nearly unmarred.  The wound in his chest was no longer visible.

A small smattering of blond hair started below his belly button and thickened as it surrounded his jutting cock.  Fully erect, it stood proud against his stomach, a pearl of fluid shining at the tip of the purple head.  Thick veins spread along the shaft and Ios’s mouth watered to taste the flesh.  Dropping to his knees before his human, he got a closer look at what the male had to offer.

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Find Alex Here:
Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/authoralexbowman

Blog - http://authoralexbowman.blogspot.com/

You wanna cum where?

I am probably one of the most open minded people sexually compared to the average American.  (Now compared to some of the freaky authors I roll with, perhaps not!)

I think everyone should be able to do pretty much whatever it is they want, within the confines of an ADULT sexual relationship, as long as all parties involved are of like mind.  Now, mind you I did say "pretty much".  Even I have limits.  An animal has no way of being "like-minded" and I was especially cautious to throw in there the ADULT part.

But like anyone else, I have my own hang-ups, we all do, and there are certain limits that I do not like to cross.  I am always open and up-front with my partner when we discuss the do's and don'ts of our potential sexual relationship.

No water sports.  No excessive pain.  No other woman (sorry, I don't like pie, except my pie.)

One of my strong lines in the sand is cumming on my face.

Men seem to be transfixed with giving a woman "a facial".  Is it that all the hot little porn stars are doing it?  Perhaps.  But I see something much darker in the act.

I see it as demeaning.  And I refuse to allow a man to demean me in that way.

***Now, before I continue, I must stop and say that this is my PERSONAL OPINION...it is the reason why I will not allow a man to do it to ME.  If you are female and enjoy it, then this is in no way a judgment of how you like to roll.  You do you, honey.***

But in saying so, in my personal opinion, cumming on a woman's face is an act of aggression.  It is a man's way of humiliating his partner, making her submit to his will.

And I just won't do it.

I love a good dominant man, one who likes to take charge in the bedroom and go all out alpha on me.  But that is where I draw the line.  It just isn't happening.

And that also leads to the whole, spit or swallow situation.

Dudes, bottom line, most of you have spunk that tastes nasty.  Seriously nasty.  At least in my experiences, which I will have to admit border on the edge of slutville.

My first hero was an alien that had cheesecake flavored spunk, no lie, as a joke.  She ate him up with a spoon.  And if a guy tasted like that, I sure as hell would, too.  

"Well, if she loves me, she'll swallow it anyway."  What-the-fuck-ever.  Let's put a foul tasting slug in your mouth and see if you'll swallow it if you love ME.

Yes, I have been with men who I have had cum that tasted okay.  There have been men I loved enough to do it for, because I DID want to please him (and it tasted okay....I don't care how much I love you, if it's vile, I'm not putting it in my mouth.)

There are ways to improve the taste...the old fruit bit, with a extra special helping of fresh pineapple everyday.  Cutting back on the beer and soda, drinking more wine.  It has helped in past experience, but not for everyone.  Some guys are just predisposed to having nasty tasting jizz.  Sorry about your luck.

I guess where I'm going with this is that I actually have had guys pissed off because I wouldn't let them cum on my face.  It was something they'd always wanted to do or always did with exes.   I really don't care...I'm allowed to have my opinion and set a limit that you should respect.

And ultimately, that is the whole point of this rant.

We all have limits.  Some can be pushed, others can not.  Those limits should be respected.  If it's something that you just can't live without doing, then discuss it, in a reasonable manner and don't try to manipulate a lover by using the "if you love me" card.  If a guy tried to push that shit on me, I'd walk.  And have.

Back to the facials, or whatever extraordinary act that you expect your mate to do because you saw it in a porno.  Just because porn stars do it, and you see it all the time, do not think that the average female is going to act like that.  She is getting paid some green to be humiliated/used/abused on camera.  And no, flashing me some dinero isn't going to change my mind either.

Men always say that reading erotic romances equates to men watching porn, and I will have to say I agree to some point that that is true.  Men are very visual, women are more emotional, we all get our fixes in different ways.

So let's compare apples to apples, shall we?

So here's my deal, oh future men I shall have sex with.  If you become one of the sexy, cut, alpha males in one of my stories, pure love and devotion, protecting me from every evil on Earth, offering hard-core sexual pleasure focused on little ole me then you can cum on my face or down my throat all you want.  Sounds about fair to me.

BTW...when I typed in "cum" to google pictures, guess what I found?  A page full of facials.  Really? Am I the only one out there who hates the sight?

Six Sentence Sunday - Thirty-nine

Switching gears today and opening up a little bit of my upcoming release, Deviant Knights, coming 6/6.  Kadence is my heroine, and I really have fallen in love with her.  There is a lot of me in her.


Here's a little taste.

She hadn’t been laid in over two years, since moving into the city.  Since the dreams had begun.

Not for lack of trying, but all of the guys she seemed to run into seemed to be at polar ends of the dating spectrum.  Either they were ready to settle down, as in immediately, or they only wanted a piece of ass.  Kadence wasn’t any man’s booty call or one-night stand, nor was she ready to slip a diamond on her finger.  It just wasn’t her style.

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Six Sentence Sunday - Thirty-eight

       I'm having a retro day here, returning to an earlier SSS post now that Park and Ride has finally been released.


      Kellee, our heroine has come across an interesting car beside her.  One she can't stop looking into.

Eyes back on the road, she swerved slightly as she realized she was coasting close to the edge.  She returned her gaze as quickly as possible to the car beside her, not able to stop watching the man’s deliciously naughty performance.

     His broad, tanned hand reached into his dark boxer briefs and he began to touch himself, not allowing her a glimpse of the flesh he obviously stroked beneath of soft jersey. She felt her own clit thicken; the electric pulses running through the nub of flesh forced her to emit a soft moan in response. Her tight pencil skirt prevented her from touching herself in return, though she ached to follow his lead.

     Two white-knuckled fists on the steering wheel, she watched in utter fascination as the stranger pumped his own cock, just out of her view. 

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HAPPY NATIONAL LIMERICK DAY!!!

Yes, today is a holiday.  It's National Limerick Day. And of course, I could not go the whole day through without sharing one or two that I wrote for the occasion.  

There was a hot girl who wrote porn,

Who got her sweet pussy shorn,

She was warned and told,

That it would be cold,

Her frizzy locks, she sure did mourn.

©2012, Alexandra O’Hurley

There was a girl who liked to fuck

On beds, in pools, and in trucks

She got some VD

And it burned when she peed

She then knew she’d lost all of her luck.

©2012, Alexandra O’Hurley 

Have a deliciously naughty Dirty Limerick Day :)

Guest Blogger - Doris O'Connor

Happy Hump Day....and do we have some humping here.  Doris O'Connor is here today to talk her TWO (that's right, count 'em, TWO) new releases.  Too Cold to Love is the continuing saga of the Giovanni clan.  Riding Her Tiger....well, I'd say that title is pretty darn self-explanatory.

Let's start with Riding Her Tiger...

Can one night change your life forever? 

Estelle has been lusting after her kinky boss Nathan for ages, but how you do you snare a much older Dom? You enlist the help of the internet.

Matched to exploration facilitator Ink, Estelle explores her submissive fantasies to the full. When online sex turns to a real life ménage will a case of mistaken identity ruin her chances with Nathan?

Or will the shifter claim his mate?

Excerpt

"Lean back against me, and relax. Nothing is going to happen, yet." Her stomach tightened at the growled words into her neck, and she watched as he grabbed the huge sponge by the side of the bath and proceeded to run it up and down her arms slowly. He washed every inch of her body with great care. Her breasts grew heavy and her breathing shallow, her nipples jutting out into the humid air of the bathroom, and he smiled into her neck. By the time his hands reached her pussy she was so aroused the slightest scrape of the sponge against her labia sent her tumbling into an orgasm.

Ink groaned into her neck, and she froze. Shiiit! He hadn't given her permission to come. 

"Ah, sweetheart, that was fucking hot, but not very wise." Her eyes flew open at Grisha's husky words, and her mouth went dry. "We'll have to think of a suitable punishment, Ink." The Russian was stark naked, his huge swollen cock jutting up out of its nest of thick, black hair, to his tight abdomen, the tip glistening with drops of pre-cum. She hadn't been able to fully appreciate the sheer size of him before, and she licked her lips. He smiled at her and fisted himself with slow, measured strokes. Her cunt clenched, and her insides tightened, recalling his earlier promise. She was never going to be able take him in her ass.

As if Ink had heard her thoughts, his hands spread her ass cheeks, and his fingers probed. She bit her lip at the invasion of two and then three long fingers.

"Indeed we will, Grisha." She squirmed as he thrust his fingers in and out of her tight hole. He pinched her clit with his other hand, and Estelle moaned as the pain zinged along her pussy, to join with the sensations spreading from her ass. She whimpered when he released the tight nub of nerves only to repeat the action, again, and again. Her labia swelled and throbbed, and she writhed in the water, dimly aware of Grisha joining them in the bath. He knelt in front of her, and his hands grabbed her hips, holding her still.

"Stop moving, and take your punishment like a good little sub, sweetheart." He smiled when she went still, and Estelle bit her lip to stop herself from moaning. She watched as he leaned forward and took one of her nipples in his mouth. He bit down hard, and tears sprang into Estelle's eyes.  He soothed the sting with his tongue and then repeated the action to the other nipple. Ink pinched her clit in time to Grisha's bites, his fingers in her ass pushing deeper and deeper, until Estelle couldn't distinguish between the waves of pain swamping her. Pain that morphed into something else entirely. Unable to keep her eyes open, she let her head fall back onto Ink's shoulder. Her body felt lighter, every nerve-ending on fire, sending pulses of heat through her veins, Ink's murmured encouragements in her ear grounding her in the here and now.

Her skin tightened, and her clit throbbed in time with the waves rushing through her. She shuddered when cool air hit her wet flesh, before she encountered smooth leather. Ink pushed her down until her breasts were flattened against the padded bench, and she gasped as her legs and arms were fastened. Before she could panic at being restrained to the spanking bench, Grisha's face was in front of her.

"Focus, sweetheart, on me. Breathe with me, and count the strokes." He looked behind her, and Ink's warm hands massaged her butt cheeks.

"She really has a fantastic ass, Grisha. She'll look hot as sin when it's nice and pink from our hands." Ink's voice send tingles of awareness through her, and her panic subsided. His hand dipped lower and spread her pussy lips. He bit her ass, and she squirmed when his fingers sank deep into her already weeping channel. He curled them into a figure of eight, and Estelle panted her excitement as her sensitized tissues responded instantly.

She closed her eyes against the knowing smirk on Grisha's face.

"How is she doing, Ink? Though I bet she's wet for us."

Estelle screwed her eyes shut tighter at Ink's chuckled confirmation.

"Now remember, Estelle, no coming until I give you permission, or you'll be strapped to this thing for a very long time indeed." Ink's voice had lost its amusement, and Estelle breathed her confirmation.

"Good girl, sweetheart, you can do it." Grisha brushed a kiss across her lips. "Now count."

The first slap took her by surprise, and she screeched.

"Count, Estelle." Ink's voice brooked no argument.

"O…one." She bit back tears and barely caught her breath before the next slap came. "Two." Slap. "Three…"

Grisha's hands massaged her shoulders. He murmured Russian words she didn't understand, the warmth of his hands chasing away the goose bumps spreading over her body. Her butt on fire, the strange floating sensations returned. Her pussy clenched with each slap of Ink's hand across her ass until all of her senses heightened. Every trickle of her arousal down her legs left a wave of fire in its wake, sensations too intense to name consuming her. Her body climbed, tensing, clenching, clamoring for the tension within to burst to freedom.

With one last slap hard enough to send her body forward along the bench as far as the restraints would allow, Estelle breathed, "Fifteen."

"Good girl, you did so well." She hardly heard Grisha over the rushing in her ears, her heart beating so loudly, she felt sick. She winced at the coolness placed over her burning ass, and when her restraints were removed she collapsed into Ink's arms.

Buy Links

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/riding-her-tiger-by-doris-oconnor/ 

http://www.bookstrand.com/riding-her-tiger 

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ridinghertiger-786880-142.html 

http://www.amazon.com/Riding-Her-Tiger-Club-ebook/dp/B007Z9DDH6/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1335886979&sr=8-2

Now on to Too Cold to Love...

Marco Giovanni has shut off his emotions, following a messy divorce. His small daughter and his chain of bakeries are all he needs in his life. The string of nannies are an unfortunate necessity he could well do without. So why does his body have to remember its needs now with the latest and most unsuitable nanny ever?

Elise has always been the responsible one, so when she receives yet another SOS phone call from her wayward twin, she does the only thing she can do, she steps into her shoes. Having to go back to nannying is hard enough, the unexpected attraction to her arrogant employer impossible to deal with. Especially when she is forced to agree to a marriage of his convenience to pay off the debt her twin accrued.

In a marriage based on blackmail can passion turn into love, or will secrets and lies destroy all?


Excerpt

Marco's knowing gaze met hers in the bathroom mirror, and the heat she saw in his eyes started a slow answering fire deep within her. Awareness sparked between them.

The towel slowly slipped from her fingers. The ice hit the tiled floor with a thud and broke the spell. She almost ran into the other room and frantically tried the other door.

"I have it on good authority that they are fire doors, my lovely, so I'd give up now. I like your shoulders just the way they are, cara mia."

Marco leant against the door frame propped up by his good shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest, a slow smile on his lips. He checked the lock on the bathroom door.

"And I'm pleased to note there isn't a lock on here, lest you decide to go hiding in another bathroom. I seem to recall you were rather fond of that on our honeymoon."

Elise winced, followed by a vivid blush as she remembered their wedding night.

Marco simply smiled. He slowly advanced towards her, and Elise backed away until she bumped into the wall. He reminded her of a predator stalking his prey.

"Marco, we need to talk."

One last long stride brought him so close his thighs touched hers, and he put one hand either side of her head.  His big body crowded her against the wall, and his sinful mouth hovered over hers.

"So talk, cara mia. I'm all yours."

His hot breath fanned across her face, and Elise closed her eyes. She bit back a moan when he kissed her nose and rained butterfly kisses along her jaw line. He suckled gently on just the right spot on her neck to make her knees turn to jelly.

"Marco…please…stop…"

Somehow she found the strength to put her shaking hands on his chest, only to meet hot, hard, male flesh. This time she couldn't stop the very feminine moan escaping. Was that needy sound really her?

Apparently so, judging by Marco's low groan in her ear. He moved his hand to cup her breast, the nipple thrusting shamelessly into his caress.

"You don't sound as though you want me to stop, cara mia. In fact, I would hazard a guess that you're wet enough for me to fuck you right here."

The crude words should have shocked Elise, but instead she whimpered in response to his words. He ground his hips suggestively into hers until the full force of his erection rested against her pussy. Heat flooded between her thighs, and she pulled his head down for kiss.

"You're talking too much, Tarzan."

She caught a quick glimpse of triumph in his glittering eyes before his mouth claimed hers. His tongue tangled with hers, and they both groaned. One of his hands fisted in her hair, and the other lifted her skirt. He cupped her mound and murmured his approval.

"You're so fucking wet for me."

He bunched the sodden material of her underwear in his hand and pulled. The move brought delicious pressure to her clit, and Elise panted in excitement. Cool air hit her slick folds when the material gave way with an audible rip. His large hand replaced the fabric, and her pussy clamped down on the fingers he thrust into her channel. His teeth nipped her neck, nudging her arousal up another notch, and he kicked her feet apart to spread her wider. She clung to his shoulders, rubbing her breasts against his chest, and he swore. He thrust two more fingers into her hungry cunt, and she lifted her leg to give him better access. He withdrew his fingers, and Elise tensed when he inserted one slick digit into her anus.

"Relax, pasticcino."

His eyes sought hers, and he smiled. He kissed her, and Elise relaxed into the strange sensation. When he inserted another finger into her tight hole, she gasped into his mouth. He thrust slowly in and out of her, and Elise pulled him closer to her still, as her hips moved of their own accord. Unused nerve endings sprang to life, and darts of pleasure skittered to her clitoris. Her breath came in short gaps, as her arousal built.

"That's my girl. I knew you'd like this." Marco's strained voice in her ear was the sexiest sound she'd ever heard. She pushed down on his fingers, seeking more, and moaned her disappointment when he withdrew them slowly. He grabbed her buttocks and ground her aching clit into his still covered cock. He thrust into her, and the friction on her throbbing bud proved too much for Elise.

"Please, Marco."

"What, cara mia?"

Marco pulled away, and she groaned.

"What do you want, my wife?"

The heat in his ever darkening gaze stoked her arousal to fever pitch, and she impatiently tugged at his trousers.

"I want you in me, now, Marco."

His eyes darkened further at her whispered plea, and she breathed a sigh of relief when his hands helped her free his cock. It sprung out of its confines up to his taut stomach, and Elise licked her lips in anticipation. She cupped his balls, and it was Marco's turn to groan.

"Jesus, woman, you're killing me."

He pushed her hands away, and Elise arched into his palms, when he pulled down her tank top and exposed her breasts. He kneaded each aching globe, before he pushed them together and laved the nipples in turn. Every suckle sent shards of pure pleasure down towards Elise's clit where delicious anticipation built in waves. She moaned her protest when Marco released the glistening buds and kissed his way back up to her collarbone. She could feel his strained smile before she saw it.

"Wrap your legs around me. I need to get inside you right now."

 

Buy Links

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/too-cold-to-love-by-doris-oconnor/ 

http://www.amazon.com/Cold-Love-Giovanni-Clan-ebook/dp/B00816GM34/ref=sr_1_11?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1336419189&sr=1-11 

http://www.bookstrand.com/too-cold-to-love 

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-toocoldtolove-789180-149.html

How to Write a Bad Review

Writing is an art form.  Even those "dirty" erotic romances that I write.

Thus, as an art form, it is incredibly subjective.  What one person sees as a Monet, another will think it's a first grader's bad attempt at finger painting.

We all have the right to like or dislike whatever it is we choose.  We live in a free country.  I've read books that I have loved, and many that I haven't....

But what I don't understand is the mass desire to tear an artist to shreds over what it is that they do.

Granted, I've never really had someone rip me a new ass over my writing, although I've had some less than glowing reviews.  And I expect those.  No one can be everyone's cuppa, and I still have lots of room to grow as an author.  I get that.

But I've seen a few reviews out there that have really gone overboard in their dislike for a book.  They've turned it into a personal attack on the writer and not really given the writer constructive criticism as to what they didn't like and why.  And I'm not necessarily talking from review sites, per se, but spots where anyone can turn reviewer.

Case in point - a recent reviewer labeled a book "You-suck-stop-writing".  This particular author has been a bestseller on Bookstrand and All Romance E-books, so someone out there likes them.  I haven't read any of this author's books, so I don't know if they are good or not, but ultimately, that attack was uncalled for. 

My point??  There are ways to prevent it from being a personal attack on the AUTHOR and more about the WORK.

And no, I'm not saying we need to sugarcoat every review, either  This isn't a childhood event where everyone's a winner and everyone walks home with a trophy.  If you felt that vehemently about the book, then absolutely say you really really, really disliked it. 

Most writers will occasionally read reviews.  Most of us are a tad narcissistic.  And a touch sado-masochistic.  Okay, maybe more than a touch.  We listen to those comments and if there are enough of them saying the same thing, we may consider it for our next manuscript.  So instead of tearing someone down, why not honestly give them workable feedback?


Here is how to write a bad review in a more positive way:

1.  Explain that IN YOUR OPINION you did not care for the book.  Remember -- just because you didn't like it doesn't mean someone else won't.  Your word is not law.  Step away from your high horse before your fingers start to type.

2.  Explain the points that you didn't care for as you read.  Be specific, without spoiling the story for others. (Or write "SPOILER ALERT" if you really must give away a plot point.)

3.  Tell a thing or two you DID like about the story if there was something redeemable about it.  It helps to soften the blow and invokes a fair and balanced vibe for the readers of your review.

4.  Keep in mind that the writer has sat for weeks, months, or even years, pouring their story out on paper.  It's a huge undertaking and they've made a dream a reality.  It still may be horrible in your opinion, but that book is somebody's baby.  Treat it with a little smidgeon of respect.

5.  Make sure your review is error-free and grammatically correct, especially if one of your complaints is that it contained too many typos/errors/grammatical mistakes in the book.  Those in glass houses....  The review from above, the "you-suck" one, was fillllllllllled to the brim with grammatical mistakes.  To the point it slowly became laughable and sad.


6.  Lastly, if you seem to be giving every erotic romance (or every mystery, or every suspense) a 1- or 2-star rating, you apparently do not like the genre.  Stop reading it.  



Even bad books can have a good impact.  I read a wallbanger a few years back, thinking to myself, "Hell, I could write better than that!"

Instead of talking the talk, I walked the walk and wrote my first novel (which is atrocious, btw....if anyone read it today they would have serious concerns about my future in the biz.) 

I'm currently working (slowly) on editing that first novel so I can republish it.  And I received a harsh review for that novel as I was working on the first round of edits for it.

At first, I got angry.

That lasted 2.5 seconds.

I couldn't stay angry because 90% of the issues she had with the book were things I had already changed, because, guess what...she was right.  They were bad and I still can't believe I wrote them into the book.  I can't believe it was published in that condition.

It was a very green noobie's novel.  And it showed.

But if I'd had that review four years ago, I don't know if I would have written anything else again.  I think I would have curled up in a ball and said the hell with it all.