THE SECRET WRITER
I’d like to thank Blak for inviting me to do a guest spot on her blog today.
The statement above is true, l do write erotica, all the time in fact and some of it is really sensual. I’m a sensual person, warm and loving but l have never slept around. I write about sexy situations, ménages, quick sex in voyeuristic situations and people who have only just met satisfying urges they just can’t fight. But l have always been a one man woman.
So what’s it all about?
I love to read well-written erotica, always have. I think some women are drawn to it as some men are drawn to porn. Sex is fascinating and we are all sexual beings with an ‘itch to scratch’!
The stigma surrounding erotica has been well documented and as such does make authors of this genre, including myself, vulnerable. We hide behind pseudonyms for fear of being judged by those we know and love. With many of us also employed in respected positions, we know that should our secret identities be revealed we run the risk of losing our jobs through a backlash of fear and ignorance. Such is the secret world of the erotic writer.
I feel that the unprecedented success of ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ has done much to make this genre more acceptable. Everybody read the book, every age, every genre, it broke through all social boundaries and, l think, was accepted for what it was, an erotic, sexually explicit tale. It didn’t matter if you loved it or hated it; ‘Fifty’ was a huge success.
I still keep my identity to myself, but l no longer hide the fact that l write in that genre. Some colleagues smirk but most are curious, raising their eyebrows in their ignorance and wondering whether or not I’m a secret swinger on the side!
I’m not of course, but l do like to express my fantasies through the power of my pen, what fictional author doesn’t? People are fascinating, sexual, sensual beings. Our bodies are waiting to be explored and desired, fiction is escapism in the first instance, and you know, sometimes it can also be educational!
I love to write, l love to love and l hope you enjoy reading my intimate expressions.
‘A Wicked Game’
A clandestine encounter between lecturers at Keywood upper college campus is witnessed by second year psychology student Lucinda White. Determined to make the most of this opportunity Lucinda embarks on a little blackmail, convincing senior lecturer Mr. Peter Caine that she will keep quiet about her discovery in exchange for a series of after college tuition.
But what does Lucinda really want? Is there more to this enigmatic girl than meets the eye?
‘A Wicked Game’ is a story of sexual desire and intrigue. Follow it through its many twists and turns until the story reaches its final climax.
This book is sexually explicit and intended for adults only.
“What do you want Lucinda?” Peter asked, his mouth dry.
“More please sir.” she replied softly, looking up at him beneath soft lashes.
“More. I want to learn more. I want you to teach me how to please a man, how to please you.”
Peter swallowed hard.
“I’m free period four.” he said quickly.
Nodding, Lucinda left closing the door softly behind her.
He was fucked.
As the bell rang for the beginning of period four, Peter was already pacing his office floor. He glanced across as Lucinda entered. It was her who locked the door behind her to afford them privacy.
Taking the initiative and ignoring his worried expression, Lucinda walked forward and dropped slowly to her knees in front of Peter. She looked up into his face and began to caress his thighs softly, through the thin fabric of his trousers. Peter didn’t stop her. When her hands fell on his belt buckle and started to remove it, he was incapable of moving, even the memory of his own name was presenting a problem to him. As she teased his trousers down towards his knees and stroked his erection through his boxer shorts, Peter closed his eyes. There was no hiding place now, no pretence; the throbbing in her hands gave away his desire. He was lost, she had won. Slowly she moved him towards her waiting mouth.
Peter opened his eyes as she took him in; he looked down to see her mouth encase him.
“God.” he groaned.
Agonizingly slowly she slid him back and forth along her tongue, cupping his balls with her left hand and gripping the base of his cock with her right. Lucinda’s eyes were wide, fixed on Peter’s face, her soft full lips held him in place, gripping him the way he loved to be gripped.
“Oh God.” he groaned again.
Lucinda’s tongue flicked over the head of his cock, tasting the small pearl of fluid that had escaped his eager body. As she slid her tongue back down he felt it press against the underside of his shaft and he gripped her head instinctively.
“Yes.” he moaned.
Then she sucked, she lapped, she slid him in and out of her tight, wet mouth and it was exquisitely unbearable.
Peter tried to steady her head. He closed his eyes as the mere sight of her was pushing him close to the edge. He buried his hands deeply under her hair and tried to slow down the passion that was threatening to erupt too quickly.
Again Lucinda flicked her tongue and again Peter cried out. She rocked against him faster and his grip on her scalp deepened.
Then he pushed.