I Hate Sex (and, yes, the moon is made of blue cheese!)


I really can’t tell you how stoked I was to get a DM a few days ago from Rose Caraway, the Sexy Librarian herself! In her private twitter message, she told me that she was going to feature my story, ‘I Hate Sex’, which appears in Violet Blue’s Best Women’s Erotica 2014, on the Kiss Me Quick’s Erotica Podcast today. I’m so thrilled by this. It’s read by the wonderful Lucy Malone who has narrated the  Best Women’s Erotica 2014 audiobook – I’ve just listened to it and I have to say she’s done a really brilliant job.

You want to hear it for yourself? Head over to The Sexy Librarian’s Podcast or click on the link below.

I 8646673_sHate Sex by Tamsin Flowers: Libsyn Player

And because I’m so delighted by this, I’m just going to indulge myself in a little fangirl moment or two! Writing is, as you probably all know, a solitary occupation. I spend long hours grinding out the words on the laptop or scratching them onto the pages of my notebook in the hope that some day, somewhere along the line, a few people will read or hear my words and get something out of them.
However, the getting the words to the people part of the endeavor is anything but solitary. In this case, three amazing people helped to put I Hate Sex on the page and into your ears, so to show my appreciation to them, I want to give them each a little shout out here. If you don’t know about them or the rest of their work, follow some of the links and get acquainted!
Violet Blue is the editor of Best Women’s Erotica 2014 – so a massive thank you to her for picking the story out of her slush pile in the first place. But Violet does so much more than simply edit erotica (and actually, there’s nothing simple about that!) I can’t begin to cover everything she does here, but here’s how she’s been variously described:
‘…one of the 40 bloggers who really count.’ The Times
‘One of the leading figures in tech writing in the world.’ The Guardian
Violet Blue is omnipresent on the web.’ Forbes
America’s leading (very) public intellectual sexologist.’ The Institute for Ethics and Emerging Technologies
You can find her at her blog Violet Blue :: Open Source Sex, on Facebook and Twitter.
Rose Caraway is the Sexy Librarian! Not only does she write, edit and narrate erotica, she creates and narrates the wildly popular Kiss Me Quick’s Erotica Podcast and the Sexy Librarian Blogcast. Rose’s dulcet tones have recruited an ever-growing army of fans – the Lurid Listeners, who are as devoted at they are loyal – and she’s recently celebrated a Number 1 bestselling erotica audio book with her narration of Rachel Kramer Bussel’s Big Book of Orgasms. In September, Rose sees the release of her first erotica anthology for Cleis Press, The Sexy Librarian’s Big Book of Erotica. I’m probably as excited about this as she is, because I have a story in the antho – and I know Rose is planning all sorts of fun for an explosive launch!
Lucy Malone is, for me, a new acquaintance. Lucy has narrated more than 50 erotica audio books, including Violet Blue’s Best Women’s Erotica 2014 from which ‘I Hate Sex’ is taken. I loved hearing her narrate my words and I’m looking forward to listening to a lot more of her work. She blogs at From Lucy’s Lips and you can find her audio books here. And of course, she’s on Facebook and Twitter.
So go check them out!

Pillow Talk Secrets 2 – inside the mind of a hot dom!


Guess what? It’s Pillow Talk day! If you haven’t already come across the Pillow Talk website that I share with the ravishing Jade A Waters and gorgeous Malin James, then skedaddle across there now for a new edition of our ‘Secrets‘ – erotica writers talking dirty. Today we’re reviewing Alison Tyler‘s newest title (blink and she’ll have another one out – talk about prolific!) - Those Boys from Go Deeper Press. Then the discussion moves on to what we look for in a hot fictional dom – and what we don’t…

Here’s a little taster to get you started…

Pillow Talk Secrets 2

Malin: Hello ladies!

Tamsin: Hello Malin, hello Jade!

Jade: And hello to both of you!

M: So, I don’t know about you two, but I’m dying to talk to you both about Those Boys. Should we start there?

T: Absolutely. But before we launch in, we should tell people who might not know this is the second book in Alison Tyler’s series that started with Those Girls - both published by Go Deeper Press.

J: Yes, and that we were fortunate enough to score ourselves an early copy of Those Boys - quite possibly because the Universe is just amazing – and wow are we happy about it!

The gorgeous cover for Those Boys, by Alison Tyler. Courtesy of Go Deeper Press.

The gorgeous cover for Those Boys, by Alison Tyler. Courtesy of Go Deeper Press.

M: It was a really lovely treat. There’s a lot of food for thought in both the first book, and now the second. For those readers who haven’t read the first book yet, let’s do a really quick run-down.

T: No spoilers!

M:  I would never! Okay. Summary not spoilers: it’s told from the POV of a Dom named Sandy. This man is the real deal – a Dom’s Dom. Basically, the novelette is about how he goes about initiating the lovely, slightly stand-offish Vanessa. How’s that?

J: Good – and I want to add this little piece I once read on Alison Tyler’s blog – I can’t remember her exact verbiage, but she said she originally thought Sandy was going to be a she, and then Sandy become this beautifully bisexual Dom. But the key, or the power of Sandy, was that it didn’t matter who he had control over – only that he had that control. The magic is being in his head, because he’s such the Dom’s Dom, as Malin said.

M: And there is magic in his head. You rarely see such a nuanced, authentic portrayal of a dominant in erotica, especially a male dominant, which is a shame.

T: But, I have to admit to a little disappointment with Those Girls, (shock! horror!).

J: What?!

T: Not because it wasn’t brilliant – it was! But it was too damn short! I wanted more. Straight away!

J: Oh well then, in that case…I totally agree.

T: I think Sandy’s character really came into its own, though, in Those Boys. I really got much more of a feel for him – this is a massive development on the first story and with the addition of a new character, Rem, we really get to understand how Sandy’s mind ticks.

I want to read more…


The Scarlet Bond – sink your fangs into this!


It’s here at last – release day for The Scarlet Bond, now exclusively available from Secret Cravings Publishing. This is the second installment in my Vampire Bond trilogy and it picks up the story of newly-minted vampire Willow Jackson where The Crimson Bond left off. Some old favorites return, some new characters literally explode onto the scene and, as usual, there’s plenty of hot vampire sex. I’m so excited about this one – I absolutely love the cover, created for me by the brilliant Dawne Dominique, and I think the two books together look awesome.

Studio shotStudio shotBlurb

On the run after killing clan leader Etienne Corbeau, beautiful young vampire Willow Jackson finds sanctuary in Miami with her lover, Corbeau’s wife Elouise. But their hard-won freedom can’t last—when Elouise is snatched by a rival vampire clan, Willow is forced to confront a terrifying truth. The only chance to retrieve Elouise lies in raising Etienne from the dead. As his killer, she alone can perform the ritual—but how will her former lover, indeed the very man who made her a vampire, react when he’s resurrected?

Forced to seek help from a lover she can’t trust, attacked by a vampire she created and endangering the life of her mentor, Willow is in a race against time to rescue her soul-mate from the evil Rakim Argent and his clan. Friends become enemies, enemies become lovers and as the situation spins out of control, Willow doesn’t know who to trust…


If the sign on the door said closed, the message didn’t appear to have been taken on board inside Nosferatu’s Bar. In flickering candlelight, amid dancing shadows, four bodies entwined, writhing in time to a throbbing beat that threatened to blast the speakers off the wall. Two women and two men caught up in the drunken moment when dancing turns into something else—something purposeful, elemental, which no longer depends on the music for its rhythm.

But Willow Jackson hadn’t drank any alcohol. She had a thirst of a different nature. She sank her teeth into the tan skin at the base of the blond man’s neck, laughing as the first taste of blood bubbled into her greedy mouth. The man bucked and moaned but she distracted him from the pain of her bite by rubbing a hand across the front of his groin. He was well endowed, growing bigger as she touched. A pair of arms encircled her waist from behind. Small, familiar hands undid the top of her leather shorts. Elouise Day, her vampire lover, had already drunk blood from the blond man’s friend—now she turned her attention to Willow’s pleasure.

Weak from blood loss, the blond staggered back onto a banquette, as his friend slumped down onto the beer-spattered floor. Without losing suction on his neck, Willow released his cock from his pants while Elouise helped her out of her shorts. She straddled the man, wet enough to impale herself on his impressive erection with ease—only at the moment of full penetration did she gasp and lose her grip on his throat. Immediately Elouise’s mouth attached to the wound in the man’s neck as she swooped onto the banquette beside them. Bereft of her blood source, Willow scrambled to pull up Elouise’s T-shirt so she could latch onto her lover’s breasts instead. Beneath them, the man grunted, thrusting his hips as Willow pumped up and down on his cock.

She sucked hard on Elouise’s nipples, pulling at them with her teeth in the full knowledge the pain would make her lover bite down harder on the man’s neck. She watched a trail of blood trickle down his chest from where Elouise tore at his flesh as she silenced his scream by placing one of her hands across his mouth. If he’d understood his predicament, he would have had the sense to bite her wrist to suck out as much blood as he could take—a way to grab immortality for himself. But Willow and Elouise were careful who they invited to their after-hours sessions, spiking their victims’ drinks before the bar closed to ensure co-operation. Instead, Willow felt the blond’s back stiffening. He pushed his hips up hard against hers as his most memorable-ever orgasm ripped through him.

When Elouise’s fingers started working on her clit, Willow could feel the burgeoning pleasure of her own orgasm on the horizon. A divine throb that would spread through every nerve and muscle of her body, building and intensifying until she surrendered completely… But on the verge of surrender, a loud splintering crack pulled her back from the brink.

“What the fuck?”

She grabbed Elouise by her short peroxide hair to yank her off the man’s neck. Elouise shrieked, turning to her with a look of fury.

“There’s someone here,” said Willow as Elouise’s anger turned to shock—followed closely by fear.

Together they tumbled off the banquette, leaving the semi-comatose man to slump over to one side, his blood soaking invisibly into the red velvet upholstery.

“It can’t be Etienne, can it?” said Willow, dragging on her shorts.

Elouise shook her head.

“No one can wake Etienne from the dead but you or I.”

But the splintering noise continued, followed by shouts as the outer door gave way and crashed back against the wall. Willow ran to the bar and grabbed a bottle to defend herself with. As she turned back, the inner door burst open. Dark figures poured into the room, but in the flickering candlelight Willow could see the glint of metal. The men were armed with guns and blades. One of them carried a silver stake, making her blood run cold. She backed up until she stood next to Elouise, pressed against the bar.

“There’s no money here,” said Elouise. Her mouth and chin were still red with blood.

Her voice held steady but only because she thought they were being robbed. If she’d seen the stake, Willow knew there would have been a tremor of fear. She grasped Elouise’s wrist. Elouise glanced at her.

“They’re not here for cash.” She nodded toward the man with the stake.

Elouise gasped.

“Very perceptive.” The speaker towered over them, his close-cropped silver hair and shorn black beard making his age hard to determine. “Elouise?”

Elouise’s head jerked up like a puppet on a string.

“Take her,” he barked.

Four men had piled through the door behind him. From their eyes and their demeanor Willow felt sure they were all vampires. With the leader in the center, they stepped forward in unison, guns and machetes raised as they closed in.


Available now at Secret Cravings Publishing

I’m Bound for Trouble!


Seeing Alison Tyler’s post today in which she’s sharing the ToC of her forthcoming Cleis Press anthology, Bound for Trouble, reminded me that I hadn’t even given you a sneaky peek at its ravishing cover yet. I’ve got a story in this amazingly hot collection and I can’t begin to tell you how honored I feel that Alison chose to make it the opening story for the book! (Which means if , like me, you download samples of books onto your Kindle, you’ll get to read my story!) But don’t judge it simply on the basis of my story – take a look at the list of writers Alison’s rounded up and tied down for this bondage extravaganza. I think the whole book’s too hot to handle.

Anyway, here’s the cover and the ToC. Publication date is officially 15 July – but apparently it’s already available on Amazon. And I’ll be posting an excerpt from my story shortly when the blog tour gets underway!



Table of Contents

• Tea or Coffee? by Tamsin Flowers
• Simple Pleasures by Sophia Valenti
• Paper Chains by Annabeth Leong
• Ropenosis by Teresa Noelle Roberts
• I, Robot by Heidi Champa
• Magic Boots by Amy Dillon
• One Rope by Graydancer
• Discovering Her Wrists, Bound by Saskia Walker
• In Her Sights by Kiki DeLovely
• Deeper by Beatrix Ellroy
• Unwinding Alice by Benjamin Eliot
• My Pretty Pony by D.L. King
• Monthly by Vida Bailey
• Doing It By the Book by Tilly Hunter
• Sex Party Magic by Kristy Lin Billuni
• The Other Side of the Ropes by Kathleen Tudor
• Business Wear by K. Lynn
• The Kissing Party by Rachel Kramer Bussel
• That’s Nota  Scrunchie by Giselle Renarde
• Valles Marineris by Laila Blake
• What She Has by Sommer Marsden
• Through the Door by Andrea Dale
• Sitting Pretty by Alison Tyler

Available from Cleis Press, Amazon.com, Amazon UK and all the usual suppliers!

A Princess Bound – Fairy Tales Have Come of Age!


Who doesn’t love a fairy tale, with it’s ‘Once upon a time…’ and ‘…happily ever after’? (Yes, obviously there are some people that don’t – but actually that was a rhetorical question.) These age-old stories seem to stick in the collective consciousness, filling us all with fond memories of hiding under the covers as we suffered Little Red Riding Hood being eaten by the wolf and Snow White being poisoned by the apple. Many of them are terribly dark and a lot of them carry a deep sexual subtext. Even if we were too young to understand it, I think we somehow knew that the wolf wanted to ravage Little Red and that in Snow White, Rapunzel and Sleeping Beauty everything hinged on an older woman’s jealousy of her younger competitor’s ripe and ready beauty.

So it makes sense, doesn’t it, to rewrite them for grown ups? To make explicit the dark sexual undercurrents that we all know are lurking there? Kristina Wright’s beautiful new anthology, A Princess Bound, does this and more – exploring the ‘Once upon a time…’ of BDSM. Enter a fairy kingdom in which princesses beg to be bound and princes demand complete submission. What could be more thrilling than an encounter in the blackberry patch with the Thorn King? In Jane Gilbert’s story of the same name, the sharp barbs bring both pain and pleasure. In Kristina’s own tale, The Last Duchess, Esmerelda begs to be bound, tied and held down… While in Rose de Fer’s Out of the Waves, the Little Mermaid is bound and whipped as she experiences pleasures she could never have imagined.

It is indeed a very grown-up collection of fairy tales – and I thoroughly enjoyed it!


Why is it that Goldilocks climbed into so many beds? Face it, fairy tales have always been kinky—from beautiful queens tied up in knots to the wolf that makes Red Riding Hood blush. In this distinctive collection of racy romances, Kristina Wright seduces us with tales that are playful, supernaturally sensual and very, very naughty. The beauty in “The Seven Ravens,” by Ariel Graham, uses a series of magic keys to finally unlock the door to her secret wish. A lonely maiden sneaks into the Winter Ball in Valerie Alexander’s “Mine Until Dawn,” and binds her new love in a devastatingly erotic story of dominance. A brawny beast of a man sweeps an aristocrat off her feet and right into his bed in “Black of Knight,” by Victoria Blisse. Submit to the spell of A Princess Bound.


From “Your Wish” by L. C. Spoering

“Maybe I’ve been doing it wrong.” I can’t decide if he’s talking to me, or musing to himself, and so I stand still, measuring my breaths, the hair on the back of my neck stiff and sensitive.

“Maybe it’s time to let you go.” That is the feared answer, another thing I don’t understand. I’ve been released before, over and over, but it’s not in the way that is imagined. It’s back in the bottle and off to the next, to bend to his will and serve, for many eternities.

I bite my lip and drag my gaze from his hands, wide and powerful. “And if I don’t want to go?”

He looks surprised. He has dark, thick eyebrows, and they raise along his forehead, creating great furrows and deep lines between his eyes. “Why would you want to stay?”

That, I can answer, and I find myself smiling before I can stop the expression. “You.” It’s as simple as that, and his face grows more baffled, and, like it’s a joke, he looks down at himself, as though the answer is in his sloppy morning dress, his bare feet, the slight paunch of his belly.

“Me,” he says, looking up at me, doubtful. Surely he’s thinking of the women he’s brought home, the one from the night before who said please over and over until it stopped sounding like a real word.

I nod. “That’s enough, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t reply, but his eyes go to the bottle on the mantle, long-necked and worn smooth, brass and shining silver, the handle seemingly delicate enough to snap. I follow his gaze, and we stand there for a long, silent moment.

“There’s one wish left,” he points out, and I shrug.

“That one’s always the undoing,” I say, gently. “Fairy tales get that one right.”

He laughs, just a little, and I glow. He puts aside his coffee cup and crosses to the bottle, lifts it from the surface; the motion makes me feel seasick, and the taste of blood invades the back of my throat as he turns it in his hands.

“What if I make a wish for you, instead of me,” he muses, and I shake my head. He expects that and gives me a heartbreaking smile.

“All right. What if I wish, for me, you.”

I feel a tingle at the back of my neck, down my spine, along my sex. “Then that would be your command,” I say, though, truly, I can never quite predict what might come of a wish. Like most, he wished for success first, and a company bore fruit around him. He wished for riches, and found himself waking in a vast apartment, driving down the canyon to his office in a luxury car. There was nothing unexpected, but, of course, isn’t that when the guard is let down?

His thumb moves rings on the warm curved surface, and I press the crest of my thighs together in longing.

“Maybe I wish for you to stay forever.”

I consider this and shrug delicately once more. “Then I’d have to stay.” Would I be freed of my duties? Would the bottle shatter?

He sets it back down and my stomach clenches. “Or maybe I just never make that wish at all,” he says, and holds out his hand.

“I could make you,” I point out, but already I’m moving, already I’m smiling.

“You wouldn’t,” he predicts, and I shake my head, and mymouth opens easily under the warm pressure of his.

What is different about him that makes me cling to him now, fingers curling at his shoulders, toes clenching at the wool rug on the floor? I’ve been had by most of them, these men, but rarely have they had me. Truly, who can have an idea, a wish—who can possess a desire?

He does, he does, and the shackles he cannot see but I can feel, there around my wrists and ankles, they dissolve as he paces me back from the bottle, back from the room. I am feeling my way in expectation, heels lifted for the slick board that divides the doorway of his room from the hall, but he steers me, instead, past the long kitchen counter, out the open door.

The patio wraps around the house and, there, in the morning, the hills look parched and sparkling, as though the stars landed there for their daytime slumber. I can open my eyes and see the traffic stuck along the snaking roads, but he catches my chin before I can, thumb and forefinger, before his pinky rests at my windpipe. I’m held suspended in that position, and each breath pushes my throat against his finger, against that tiny pain, and I shiver, focusing my eyes on him.

“Say it,” he commands, and my mouth parts again, the skin around my lips now burning from the roughness of his stubble.

“Say it,” he repeats, and whatever sweet nothing might have been in his voice before is gone with the second demand; I feel weak, shaken, and my thighs slip against each other of their own accord.

“I’m yours,” I say, without drawing my breath; it makes my chest hurt, a sort of dying exhalation—I wonder if that is what this might be, release from one world into another.

“Say it again.” His hand moves from my chin, down my throat and over my bare chest. He parts the delicate buttons of my shift, and the fabric slides off me without protest.

“I’m yours.” My head feels like, a balloon bobbing in the hot breeze. I can feel the same stir in the air at my ass and cunt, just before his hands, sliding over my hips and thighs to part my legs, spread my cheeks wide.

His finger toys with my asshole, and I let out a whimper.


“I’m yours.” My voice is high and strained, and I must lean against him in order to keep myself upright.

Available from Cleis Press and  Amazon.com


Slave Girls – Craving To Submit…




Ahhh… Sorry just had to get that out of my system – this cover is so spectacular that I couldn’t make you wait till later in the post. I just had to go for it straight off – and truth be told I’m half tempted to leave it at that. What more persuasion would you need to buy this glorious book?

But I wouldn’t be playing fair if I didn’t tell you a little more about it…

Have you ever felt the urge to submit? To pledge your body and mind to a master? To give a stranger complete control over your pain and pleasure? Intense pain, shattering orgasms, souls laid bare and skin burned with belts and canes…you’ll find it all between these covers in a collection of stories that are deliciously intense and divinely decadent. The stories D L King has curated in Slave Girls are hot and dirty – and if you’ve been harboring a secret desire to submit, somewhere deep down inside your soul, this is a book that will make you tremble…



Forever in an electric dance of give and take, pleasure and power are inextricably linked. In Slave Girls, award-winning eroticist D. L. King pulls back the velvet curtain to reveal a world where every sexual fantasy is realized, a world driven by women devoted to their own desires and their dominants. These Slave Girls want nothing more than to willingly relinquish control to the capable hands of the right Master. Trained and tested to suit every sexual taste, these women learn the ropes—literally. A hassle-filled day turns on a dime when a strong Dom takes charge in Victoria Behn’s “Hell-Bent for Leather.” In Giselle Renarde’s “Postcards from Paris,” one good girl lives for her daily dose of discipline and tough love. The thrill of being in service to a stranger compels the lust-filled sub in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s “Out of Sight.” Your own desires may surprise you after finishing the submissive exploits of Slave Girls.


From “Savoring Little One” by Graydancer


         Slow. Savor.

Her thighs came into view, the seam going up to be lost in the dark lace that bound each leg. I swallowed. There must be some atavistic trigger that makes the sight of a garter fastened to the top of a stocking rouse a primitive hunting instinct. It’s like a crosshairs laid over a particularly delectable prey. Almost irresistible.

The straps of each garter climbed the curves of her ass, one on each side, neatly framing the beautiful cleft between two graceful hemispheres. Her skin shone silvery pale, and again I flexed my fingers. Then I saw the dark fishtail shape of a lace thong flowing from the top of her ass over each hip and disappearing under the garter belt.

I frowned.

“Little One, was I mistaken in the purpose of your invitation?”

She turned her head over her shoulder, eyes surprised. This wasn’t how the script in her head was written. “Um…what?” she murmured, and then caught herself, maintaining her demeanor. “What do you mean, Sir?” She looked confused, a little lost, and my heart beat a little faster at the adorably sweet expression.

I stepped closer behind her, deliberately, keeping my face stern as I met her eyes. “I asked”—my hand went to her neck, caressing the smooth skin there—“if I was mistaken”—fingers curled up into her hair—“as to why”—tightened, her breath hissing as my fist clenched, tilting her head up and toward me—“you invited me here.”

My face was centimeters from hers, and I could feel the warm skin of her ass pressed against my trousers, her skirt still held up in tight shaking fists. She knew I wasn’t actually upset—the swell of my cock pressing through my trousers against her buttocks was evidence of that. However, arousal did not translate into kindness in our particular dynamic. In fact, it often resulted in the opposite. She knew that. I felt her tense with fearful anticipation and grind her ass against me in spite of it. Because of it.

“You asked me to come here and take you,” I growled, my eyes locked on hers. “You were quite specific about your desire for fucking and sucking and beating and kneeling and having me, for lack of a more convenient term”—I tightened my grip slightly—“fuck your shit up.” Her pupils dilated slightly with the added rush of endorphins.

“Yes, Sir…” she breathed out, an eager, trembling sound.

“And I, in turn, was quite specific as to the manner in which you were to present yourself.”

“I thought…that is, I mean, I did, Sir, I thought…” I could see her mind racing, comparing the inventory of what she was wearing with the emails and chats we’d exchanged, the many flirtations that had led to this evening. I knew she would go over and over them in her mind, looking for something she’d missed or added, round and round in her head, and I let her wheels spin.

The fact was that she was perfect. She was wearing exactly what I’d requested, from the long skirt to the thin white cotton blouse. Heels to hair and everything in between, lovely and luscious and a feast for my eyes to savor.

But beauty is only part of this kind of play. The spice comes from the fear and the sweet dissonance of conflicting desires, to please and to be punished.

My part was, in effect, to season the experience. To taste.

“It’s not the ‘what,’ Little One. It’s the ‘how.’ Do you recall my views on the proper deportment of thong and garter belt?”

“Yes, Sir…you prefer the thong over the garter belt.”

“Yes, Little One, that’s what I said. And you responded with a very particular statement, one that I never forgot.” I turned her head slightly so that my warm breath tickled her sensitive ear. “You said you’d never had occasion to dress in such a slutty way.”

She didn’t reply, but I felt her body react to the words.

“So I’m forced to wonder if perhaps I was misled as to the nature of this occasion. Perhaps you don’t want to be on your knees. To feel my cock fill your throat till you gasp but still want it deeper. That sopping cunt of yours slam-fucked till you can barely walk, forced to cum for me till you’re hoarse and still beg for more.” I made the words guttural, growling, letting the monosyllables strike her desire with physical force. She was grinding against me harder now, and it took every bit of resolve I had not to push back.

But no, I was a rock of will upon which her growing lust crashed, and I continued. “That’s how I remember our conversation. That’s what I thought you invited me for.” I hissed angrily in her ear. “Was I wrong?”

She whimpered softly. “No…”

“Then say it. Tell me what you want.”

“I…I want you, Sir.”

“That’s all? Simple enough. I’m here.” I tightened my fingers again, eliciting another soft, high moan. “Your ass says you want more. Tell me what you want, Little One.”

She made another keening sound, and I shook her slightly. “Tell me!”

“I…I want you to…to fuck me, Sir.” Suddenly the barrier was broken, and the words poured out in a rush. “I want to taste you…I…I want to suck you hard and cum on your hard…c—” She paused for a moment, and I thought I might have to pull the word out of her, but then she swallowed, licked her lips, and forced it out. “Your…c-cock over and over and feel your hand on me, in me, taking me, I want you to take me, Sir, use me…” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips again, and one more word whispered out. “Hard.”

Available from Cleis Press and Amazon.

I have a naughty, dirty fantasy…and a book by Violet Blue!


Yes, that’s right. I have a dirty, sexy, secret little fantasy. But no. I’m not going to tell you what it is. Remember, I’m the famously buttoned up erotica writer (if you don’t remember, you can read all about that particular issue in Alison Tyler & My Top Button!) However, when my favorite publisher’s, Cleis Press, sent me a copy of Violet Blue’s Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy, I immediately had to flick through the pages to see if my little ‘thing’ was featured. And it was!

So if you want to take a guess as to what it is I’m jonesing for, feel free to leave a comment. Naturally, you won’t win a prize. Because, believe me, I’m certainly not going to confirm it if you get it right! But guess away – just for fun. That’ll be my fun, as I see if anyone actually gets it right…

But back to the book…

And isn’t this a beautiful cover? (I love Violet’s covers – always pretty in pink! Remember the cover of Kissing: A Field Guide?)UltimateGuidetoSexualFantasy2e_hires


Join the legions of couples and singles who are making their hottest sexual fantasies come true. Whether you’re looking for an endless supply of fantasy ideas or expert advice for a playful, imaginative sex life, this information-packed book will tell you exactly what you need to know. Forbes web-celeb Violet Blue has compiled comprehensive lists of the most popular fantasies and fetishes, complete with suggestions for props, toys, and costumes (and where to buy them). Blue takes a nuanced approach to helping you decide just how far to take your fantasies. Whatever your desires, The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy: How to Have Incredible Sex with Role Play, Sex Games, Erotic Massage, BDSM Play and Much, Much More will help you create the scenarios of your wildest dreams.
Discover how to:

  • Uncover your lover’s secret fantasies
  • Role-play without feeling silly
  • Navigate your first threesome—where DOES that sixth arm go?
  • Have sex in public
  • Create thrilling S/M scenarios
  • Strip, lap dance, and talk dirty

And here’s an excerpt…

Threesomes, Foursomes, and Moresomes

Is a threesome your number one fantasy? You’re not alone— in fact, you’re in the majority. When top-ten-fantasy lists are compiled, sex with multiple partners always tops the charts. Online surveys like http://www.askmen.com, glossy magazines such as Men’s health and Cosmopolitan, and popular women’s true fantasy compilations, such as Nancy Friday’s collections, all consistently list sex with more than one person as a widely popular fantasy.

Sex with multiple partners, in an array of alluring combinations, can be a mind-blowing experience for everyone involved. But despite its extraordinarily popularity as a fantasy, few people know how to make it happen in real life. Most threesomes and other unconventional groupings tend to be unplanned. A multiple-partner fantasy that “just happens” can be incredible—or it can be disappointing, or worse. It can bring you and your partner closer—or just rock the boat. Making a threesome happen, and having hot sex during the experience, all in a spirit of safety and fun, takes a bit more than chance and luck. For some couples, this is the ultimate sexual adventure, one where a bit of planning leaves everyone spent, satisfied, or hungry for more.


Violet Blue is the best-selling author of numerous sex-instruction books, including The Ultimate Guide to Cunnilingus and The Ultimate Guide to Fellatio. She also writes about erotica, pornography, and sexual pleasure and health for magazines such as O: The Oprah Magazine, Newsweek, Cosmopolitan, Esquire, Glamour, Maxim, Marie Claire, Men’s Health, Penthouse, Redbook, and more. She lives in San Francisco. Find her online at tinynibbles.com and on Twitter @VioletBlue.

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