Friday, April 11, 2008

Love Thy Neighbor

So the ladies over at The Pink Chair Diaries were kind enough to post a story for me so I thought that I would give my 'readers' some of that creamy goodness.

Here's the Chair:

And here the story: (And don't you just LOVE that banner? Thanks Celia Kyle!)

“What the fuck?!?”

Yolie Wilson stop short as she entered her apartment. Her briefcase clattered to the ground as it slipped from her suddenly lifeless fingers as her eyes were riveted to the large pink plastic chair that had somehow taken residence in her home.

She strode over to the massive pink obscenity that sat smack dab in the middle of her neat, impeccably decorated living room. The bright neon color stood out like…well, the big pink cock that stood up at least eight inches from the center of the pink plastic monstrosity. The sight was made even more obscene by the giant pink bow that encircled the head of the fake dick.

Who in the world would send her such a thing? Even before the question was finished, she knew the answer.

Chandra. It had to be. Her cousin delighted in finding ever more inventive ways to embarrass Yolie with each passing birthday. It seemed that for Yolie’s thirtieth birthday, Chandra had decided to go all out.

Yolie snatched at the card dangling from the gaily wrapped penis, careful not to actually make contact with it.

Sure enough, the card read, “Everyone should get laid on their thirtieth birthday. You’re no exception. Love, Chandra.”

“Love Chandra, my ass,” Yolie bit out as she marched over to the phone and punched in her cousin’s number. Her toe beat a rapid staccato on her gleaming hardwood floor as the phone rang. And rang. And rang. The coward wasn’t picking up so she listened with barely restrained impatience as her cousin’s disgustingly cheerful voice filled her ear.

“Hi, you’ve reached Chandra. I’m not available right now. I’m either away from my phone or under some really hot guy. But leave a message and I’ll call you back. Oh, and if this is Yolie, I hope you liked my gift.” Beep.

Yolie kept her voice to a low snarl. “Chandra, this is your cousin Yolanda.” Yolie only used her full name to indicate that she was serious. “And, no I do not like my gift. How could you? What have I ever done to you to deserve a giant pink dildo chair in my living room? Didn’t you get enough of my humiliation when you walked into my eighteenth birthday party with a six-foot inflatable cock? Or that time you sent that all nude male stripper to give me a lap dance in front of my parents? This is the last straw. I swear Chandra, if this pink shit isn’t out of my house my tomorrow, I’m telling your mom about the piercings. ALL of them!” Yolie jabbed violently at the ‘End’ button on her handset. She knew that the blackmail was a petty threat but it was all she had.

Yolie let out a tired sigh as she shrugged out of her suit jacket. Her eyes conspicuously avoided straying over to the object of her annoyance. She walked into her bedroom. Wearily, she removed her red silk blouse and black slacks. It had been a very long day for her. Not to mention she was thirty.


The word tripped across her thoughts. It was not a number that she was happy with and tried to avoid like the plague. Not that she had much to show for her thirty years on the planet. No man, no kids. And no sex in two years.

Maybe that was why Chandra had sent the thing.

She circled the chair, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. She wondered how exactly her cousin had managed to get it into her house. Chandra didn’t have a key. Someone had to have let her in. The only people with spares were her mother and Roman, her neighbor.

Yolie shivered as she imagined her handsome neighbor. Roman had occupied her fantasies ever since he had moved in across the hall a little over a year ago. She pictured him in her mind. Tall, glossy mahogany hair, frost blue eyes, and the most delectable mouth she had ever seen. Seriously, she thought, it should be illegal for a man to have a mouth like that. Every time she saw him, she felt an insane urge to bite down on that full lower lip.

She ran a hand through her mid-length wavy hair. She felt an insane urge to yank on it. If Chandra had used Roman to get into the apartment, she was going to make sure that Chandra paid. Big time.

She did another slow turn around the pink plastic chair. This time a bit more intrigued. It certainly was…pink. Especially the thick faux cock that jutted up from the center of it. Yolie’s pussy clenched. It had been a long time since anything other than her own fingers had penetrated her. A part of her wondered what it would be like to have thick, rosy girth inside her.
She tried to look away but something about it kept her mesmerized. It couldn’t hurt to touch it. Just a little bit. She did another slow circle, this time running her finger along the smooth, cool synthetic back. Tiny shivers of desire enveloped her like so many bubbles, causing a little flood that dampened her panties and hardened her nipples.

She leaned over and reached out a shaky finger, intending to see what it felt like. The knock on the door was a loud as a cannon’s boom throughout the apartment.

Yolie jerked back and placed a hand over her racing heart. What the hell! Had she actually been contemplating using that thing? She shook her head to clear it. She realized that she was hard up, but she hadn’t known the extent of it until just now. Was she really contemplating fucking an enormous pink dildo?

Apparently so.

She walked over to the door on rubbery legs. When she got to the door, she stood up on her tip toes to look out the peep hole.

Shit! Roman!

She collapsed against the door. The cool door against her cheek did little to stem the tide of rising heat into her face.

“Yolie? I know you’re there. I heard you come in a few minutes ago. Are you going to answer the door?”

She bit down hard on her lip. She shouldn’t let him in. Not with the chair occupying such a prominent place in her living room. Had he let Chandra into the apartment?

Please God no, she prayed.

“Yolie? I can hear you breathing.” Roman’s husky British-accented voice was teasing.

She blew out a hard breath. There was no way around it. She was going to have to answer the door.

Yolie hastened to straighten out her blouse. She ran a hand through her hair to try to tame it into some semblance of order. She took in a few deep breaths, attempting to stop the breakneck pace of her heart that had kicked into overdrive at the sight of her hunky neighbor through the peep hole.

She pasted a smile on her face and opened the door.

Just enough to stick her head out.

“Hey! Roman. What can I do for you?” She asked in a slightly breathy tone.

Roman flashed a smile, those oh-so-luscious lips parting to reveal strong white teeth. Yolie struggled to suppress a shudder. Those lips should be illegal on a man. His full bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly. Every time she saw him, she had an insane urge to nip it. She was sure that he did not entertain such thoughts about her.

“Good evening, Yolie. I was beginning to think that you were ignoring me.”

She forced a laugh. “That’s silly. Why would I do that?”

“Are you okay? You look a bit peeked?”

She raised a hand to her warm face. “Do I? I was just in the middle of…something.” She couldn’t force her brain to come up with anything clever.

“Sorry to bother. I wanted to speak with you. Can I come in?”

Her mind went blank. “Come in? Now?”

“Actually, I was asking now for next week. I like to plan things in advanced.”

She laughed weakly. “Um, sorry. Stupid question.”

“So, may I?”

“Uh…can this wait? I really am in the middle of something.”

“What? Have you got a chap in there?”

Yolie was sure that she imagined the edge in his voice. He certainly wasn’t jealous.



She was desperate. “Can I come over to your house in a few minutes?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a prat but when I arrived home, I saw a note from your cousin, Chandra.”

Yolie’s heart plummeted into her stomach. “You did?” She pushed the words past her rapidly closing throat.

“Yeah. I thought it was a bit odd but she insisted that I come over here and that I not take no for an answer.”

“Do you always do want random people tell you to do in letters?”

Roman smiled and leaned a shoulder negligently against her doorframe. She couldn’t help but admire the way his blue button-down shirt hugged the broad expanse of his chest as he crossed his hands over his chest. He was still dressed in a pair of neatly pressed navy slacks so she guessed that he, too, had just returned home from work and had yet to change. Yolie couldn’t resist a long, slow perusal of his lean form. He really was gorgeous in a ‘this guy can’t be real’ kind of way. Movie star perfect with his crystalline blue eyes and bluish-black hair. She should know. He had been the star of many a late-night fantasy in the time that they’d been neighbors.

“Only when it’s something that I’d want to do anyway. Besides, your behavior makes me think that you’ve got something going on in there that you don’t want me to see.”

She shook her head as if to clear it. What was he talking about? Shit! She remembered her question to him. Panic gripped her throat as she processed his answer.

Oh, God! Did he know?

“Why do you say that?” Yolie narrowed her eyes as she stared at him suspiciously.

“Oh, I don’t know. Could it be the fact that you are trying ever so desperately to keep me from coming in or the fact that I seem to be talking to a disembodied head? You’ve definitely aroused my…curiosity.”

Roman leaned in, trying to look into her apartment over her head. Yolie straightened up to try to block his view. Not that it would do much good. He stood a good 10 inches above her own 5-foot-six height. As she did, she caught a whiff of him. God, he smelled so good! Like exotic spices and sex. She had never before thought that a man could smell like sex but that was before she met Roman.

Roman smiled, this time a little quirk of his lips as his eyelids dropped down, covering his frosty gaze that somehow seemed to be more fire than ice. Her breath trapped in her chest as he leaned into her.

“Come on, love, let’s have a look, shall we?” His warm cinnamon scented breath feathered over her cheek as he spoke.

Goosebumps exploded over her skin and her nipples tightened into diamond hard points. When he spoke like that, Yolie doubted that there was anything that she could deny him.

She blew out a defeated breath. She was well and truly caught.

“Come in.” She opened the door wider and kept step behind it. She closed her eyes and held her breath as he stepped inside. It was only a matter of time before he saw it.

“Now, there’s a love. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me. In fact—Good Lord, is that a prick coming out of that chair?”

If the ground opened up and swallowed her right then, it wouldn’t be soon enough. Yolie’s feet dragged as though encased in cement as she shut the door. Once closed, she could do nothing more than lean weakly against it.


“And it’s here? In your living room?”


She heard his footsteps as he moved further into the living room. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the disgust, or worse yet the laughter, outlined on his face.

“Well, I must say that it is an impressive bit of thing. It’s sure to be the hit of your next party. Don’t forget to send me an invitation.”

The shock in his voice had eased its way back to amusement.

Yolie bit her lip to hold back the explanations that threatened to tumble out. It was none of his business if her entire apartment was filled with gigantic neon pink dildoes.



“What are you doing?”

“I’m waiting.” She resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall in search of sweet oblivion.
“Waiting? For what?”

“Death. I figure that in addition to this being my birthday, it’s also the single most humiliating day of my life so death is the only viable alternative to living this down. I didn’t really want to live past thirty anyway.”

Her eyes were still closed as she contemplated death, her ears deaf to everything. So it was with some surprise when she felt a wisp of air cross her cheeks. Her eyes snapped open. Roman had crossed the room and was now standing in front of her. His arms bracketed either side of her head, effectively caging her in. Heat poured off his body in waves. Yolie felt an answering heat in her own body. Her nipples hardened even further, their tips almost brushing the front of his shirt. A small shift and she would be flush against him.

Her heart stuttered in her chest. This was the first that that she and Roman had ever been this close. The experience was heady and she felt a bit light headed. Her breath quickened

“What are you doing?” She knew it was a stupid question but couldn’t stop the whispered words.
Roman’s icy blue gaze blazed with undisguised lust. How was it possible for a person’s eyes to appear cold but burn at the same time? She felt another moist gush explode from her pussy at the hungry look.

“You know, in all the times that I imagined us together, never once did I contemplate the use of sexual aids. I prefer to be a bit more hands-on.”

What? He had imagined them together? Yolie’s heart almost burst at the admission. Never once had he ever let on that he felt anything for other than friendship. She never really believed that she was his type. He seemed to prefer tall, sultry blondes in need of a good meal. Yolie was short, brunette with more than enough meat packed into her compact body. Not that she was fat, but she was more than cushioned in some areas, namely her ass and her breasts.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. Roman’s greedy stare followed the movement.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have amazing skin? All beautifully brown and toasted. The color of almonds. I’ve always wondered if it felt as soft as it looks. May I?”

She nodded unable to push any words past her constricted throat. Roman removed a hand from the door and used is fingers to trace a delicate path down her neck until it rested in the hollow of her throat. Her pulse beat a rapid tattoo, the sound filling her head until all she heard was the sound of her wildly beating heart and her own labored breathing. Her eyes fluttered closed.

“Mmmm…” he purred. “Soft and warm. Just like I thought. Are you hot, Yolie?”

She shivered at the double entendre but she didn’t answer.

“Hmmm. You’re a little moist, too,” he said as his fingers gathered the dew that pooled at the
base of neck. “Are you wet, Yolie?”

Yolie couldn’t stop the moan that shuddered past her lips.

Roman’s finger ventured lower until it flirted around the edges of blouse, running along the upper swells of her bosom.

“I bet you have beautiful breasts. I’ve given a lot of thought to them. I know they’re large. I imagined that they would be tipped with large brown areolas, darker than your skin. I imagined how they would come to life when I took them into my mouth, worried them with my teeth, lapped at them with my tongue. I imagined how you would beg me to suck them, how you would squirm and plead with me to pet your pretty pussy. Have you thought about that? Do you ever wonder what it would be like to have my cock pounding into you tight pussy, my mouth on your tight nipples?”

“Yes,” she moaned. She had. She had thought of all of that and more.

Suddenly, he was gone. Her eyes snapped opened at the loss of his touch. She collapsed against the door, her legs no longer able to support her. Her eyes tracked him as he made his way over to the pink chair.

“You know, seeing this chair has put all sorts of new ideas into my head, love.”

Yolie couldn’t stop the shiver at the use of the endearment.

“Yeah?” she asked, watching as he ran his palm over the high back of the chair.

“Oh, yes. Strip.”

She blinked, unsure that she’d heard him right. “Excuse me.”

“I think you understood that just fine. Take off your clothes, Yolie.”

Normally, she considered herself to be a very independent woman and chafed at the idea of following a man’s orders. But something about the way he said it, the flash of desire in his pale
eyes had her lifting her arms to the buttons of her shirt. She squared her chin and lifted her back off the door. She raised her eyes to meet his challenging stare.

She made quick work of her shirt and allowed it to slide off her shoulders and down her arms until it floated into pool at her feet leaving her in a pink satin and black lace bra that barely covered her nipples. She had a penchant for lingerie and this bra made her feel particularly sexy.

She could tell that Roman approved. The heat in his eyes flared higher as he broke eye contact and allowed his gaze to roam over her body. Yolie felt every invisible sweep of his eyes as though she were touched with fire. His heated gazed slid to her nipples. She hadn’t thought it were possible for them to harden any further. She was wrong. They stretched out as though seeking his attention. She remembered what he’d said about what he’d do to them and tiny tremors racked her body. She wanted that

“Now the pants.”

Her hands went to the front placket of her slacks. Her fingers were strangely numb but after a few fumbles, she managed to unhook the button and grasp the tab of the zipper. The sound of the metal teeth pulling apart blasted through the silent room. Once finished, she pushed the fabric from her hips and kicked it away once it reached her feet. When it was all over, she stood in matching black lace boyshorts and garter belt that held up gossamer thin silk stockings. She still wore her three-inch black leather pumps.

Roman let out a ragged breath. She knew that she had surprised him with her choice of lingerie. She had never felt so exposed in her life. She resisted the urge to cover herself.
She allowed her own gaze to follow the tall, lean, line of his body. She skimmed over his broad chest to his narrow hips. The front of his pants bulged as though unable to contain the flesh hidden behind it. Her eyes widened, either he hung or he kept a baby bat in his pants. She licked her lips as she envisioned what he might look like.

Her eyes shot back to his face. He smirked as though he had read her thoughts. Another wave of heat washed over her face. Her hands were trembling as she brought them up to the front clasp of her bra.

“No, don’t. I rather think that I would like to finish. Come here.”

She forced her legs to stiffen and move forward. Roman hungrily tracked every move. She suppressed a giggle at the image of a lamb being brought to the slaughter flashed through her mind. She stopped

“Turn around. Face the chair.”

Again, any thought of resistance was nonexistence. She did as he commanded.

Roman came up behind her. She gasped at the blast of heat against her back as he captured her
hips and brought her flush against him. She moaned deep in the back of her throat as her ass came in contact with his massive erection. She vaguely heard his answering groan. She couldn’t stop herself from grinding against it as soft, needy sounds escaped her lips. The lift of her high heels was just enough to position her right where she wanted to be.

“You like that? You like the feel of my cock against you?” He thrust his hips against her. She could do nothing more than moan. Her head fell back against his shoulder.

He laughed. The husky sound scraped across her ragged nerves. Her skin was tight and itchy. She felt his hands leave her hips and glide over her sides. His touch was fire across her sensitized skin.

“I love your breasts. Look down. I want you to watch my hands on you.”

She looked down to where his hands cupped her. He was a large man with large hands and still she over filled them. For long breathless moments he did little but hold her. A restless energy flowed through her. She was so needy for his touch she wanted to scream. Her breasts were heavy and achy.

Using his thumbs, he ran across her sensitive nipples. She shuddered and arched into his palms, silently asking for more. He kept his touch a light strum back and forth, back and forth causing the lace of her bra to chafe against her super responsive points. She squirmed against him, seeking a firmer touch.

Finally she could no longer stand it. She did as he bade. She begged.


That appeared to be the magic word. Roman moved his hands to the front catch of her bra and opened it with a deft flick of his fingers. Yolie’s breast spilled out into his eager palms. She looked down to see her smooth brown skin against his lighter toned fingers. She had never been with a white man before and the contrast between their skin was fascinating. She waited, breathless as his fingers hovered above the pouty peaks of her breast. The delay was sweetly agonizing.

Just when she thought that she could take no more, he caught the distended tips between his thumbs and forefingers, squeezing lightly. She shuddered against the onslaught of desire and pushed against the fiery fingers. He gave what she asked for. He once again grabbed her nipples between his fingers, only this time the squeeze was harder. She has no warning as liquid heat spiraled from her breasts and the orgasm surged throughout her body and pooled at the juncture between her thighs. She collapsed against Roman, unable to hold up her own weight.

Her eyes fluttered closed.

“God, you are beautiful. So ripe and ready. I’ve never had a woman orgasm from simply playing with her nipples. You’re so sensitive.” Roman’s breath was heated against her cheek as he continued to pluck at her nipples, alternating between squeezing tightly and strumming gently.
Suddenly, his hands were gone. Her eyes flew open. They tracked his hands as they skimmed over her soft belly and slipped beneath her panties. His finger tangled briefly in the short nest of curls guarding her femininity before dipping lower. The sound of lace being rent apart filled the air. He had ripped off her panties leaving her clad only in her garter belt and stockings.

She gave no thought to her ruined undergarments as he ran his knuckle up and down her aching slit. She was sure that moisture coated his hands her pussy was weeping so. She gasped as he inserted a finger into her heated pussy. Her delicate muscles clamped down on him and she heard him groan.

“Lord, you are so wet.”

He slowly withdrew his finger before thrusting two back in. She moaned as her head thrashed against his shoulder. It had been so long since anyone had touched her. Roman added a third finger into her weeping pussy. Black dots danced before her eyes and for one brief moment she thought she would pass out. The feeling subsided and her body adjusted to the sweet invasion. He set a hard pace. Ever so slowly withdrawing his fingers before thrusting back in. In. Out. In. Out. Her hips moved in perfect harmony to his pace as he finger-fucked her. She was insensate with desire. The only sounds that got past her throat were breathless moan.

“Look at the chair, Yolie.”

Her eyes snapped open.

“Do you see it?”

She swallowed, forcing saliva past her parched throat before nodding.

“I want you to fuck it. Fuck it like you want to fuck me.”

She shook her head. She didn’t want a piece of latex. She wanted him. Deep inside her until neither one could tell where the other began.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Yolie? Do you want to feel my hard cock in your tight pussy?” He ground his hips against

Her head bobbed up and down in enthusiastic agreement. God, yes. She wanted him. Pumping brutally into her. She wanted to hear the sound of his balls smacking against her ass as he fucked her hard.

“Then you will do as I say. I promise you that you’ll be satisfied.” With those words, he withdrew from her body. The tight walls of her pussy grasped at him, not wanting to give him up but their effort was in vain. Roman stepped away from her. Yolie bobbled for a moment until she regained her balance.

She turned to look at him. She stood a couple feet away. He was still fully dressed.

How could he still be dressed, she thought while she thrummed with the aftermath of one climax and stood on the precipice of another.

He raised a single eyebrow. “Well?”

She turned back to the chair. Her teeth chewed at her lower lip. Could she do it? Could she sit down on an enormous pink faux phallus? And in front of the man who had been front and center in all of her most intimate dreams for the past year?

She could. On one condition.

“If I do this, you have to be naked,” she said as she spun around once more to face him.

Roman’s mouth quirked. “Really?” He tilted his head to the side as though considering her proposition. Yolie shifted her feet as she awaited his answer. After an interminable moment, he shrugged and raised his hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Yolie’s entire body tensed as her eyes followed his fingers as they unlooped each button to reveal his chest. Now, that’s what they call a six-pack, she marveled when he tossed the shirt away. His chest was heavy and thickly muscled as though he played football. A thin layer of dark curly hair ran across his pecs and tapered off as it disappeared beneath the waistband of his slacks.
Wait, didn’t they play rugby in England? She clamped down her lips as a giggle threatened to
escape at the random thought.

His hands stilled. “Is there something funny?”

“No, not at all continued.” She raised her hand in a vague gesture.

He merely shrugged before unbuckling his belt while at the same time toeing off his shiny black loafers. Yolie couldn’t help but stare at his crotch. It was crude, she knew but she needed to see what he was packing. She licked her lips in anticipation. She heard his swiftly indrawn breath and snapped her eyes to his face. His eerily beautiful face was set into stern lines of desire. He held her gaze as he pushed down his pants, taking his shorts, if he had any, with him. He stood there, proud, daring her to find any fault with his body.

She sucked in a breath. The man was magnificent. If he was gorgeous clothed, then he was ‘make you wanna smack your mama’ fine when he was naked.

“Damn,” she breathed. She was right. The man’s daddy had to have been a horse. There was no other explanation for the exquisite monster that jutted out from between his thighs. The tip of it almost brushed his belly button. He was even bigger than the dildo in the chair. And if he wasn’t as thick as her wrist, she’d eat her own panties.

“I take it I meet with your approval.”

She heard the soft mocking in his voice but ignored it. Her eyes glued to his magnificent shaft, she took a step forward, her hand extended. Her palms itched to get in contact with that steely flesh.

He stepped back. “Uhn, uhn, uhn. Not so fast. I think you owe me something.”

“What?” she asked as though in a stupor.

“The chair, Yolie.”

She blinked up at him. Fuck! The chair. Exactly, she thought. Fuck the chair. Not Roman. Not yet.

She drew in a deep breath and turned her back to him. On unsteady legs she took the five steps that brought her shins flush with the Pink Monster, as she was beginning to think of it. She removed the bow and threw it over her shoulder. The mechanics of actually getting onto the chair baffled her for a moment. It wasn’t as though she could actually just plop down. Not without what she was sure to be an eventful trip to the ER. She supposed she could straddle it and use the back to steady herself.

“No,” Roman said as though guessing the direction of her thoughts. “I want you facing me. I want to see you as you take that big dick into your sweet pussy. I want to watch your face as you ride it, imagining that it’s me.”

His words sent ripples of lust zinging along her nerves.

She turned around to face him. Roman was now sitting on her couch where he had a front row view of all the action, so to speak. She watched with hungry eyes as he wrapped his large hand around his cock. It encircled it. Barely. He began to move his palm up and down the shaft. She saw a tiny drop of fluid appear at the tip. Her tongue snaked out as she imagined using it to gather up the fluid. She bet he tasted like heaven.

“Yolie, I’m waiting,” he said in a sing-song voice that was completely at odds with the carnal hunger that emanated from his very pores.

She shook her head and got back to the task at hand. The only way to do it would be to spread her legs wide on either side on the chair and use her thighs to lower herself down. Which was what she did. She went slowly. She gasped at the first touch of the smooth, latex head. She eased the tip in. The thing really was big, especially for her. She raised her head to look at Roman. His hands continued their leisurely tugging motion on his cock. If it were even possible, he seemed to grow even harder as he watched Yolie take in the pink latex. Finally, after several long moments, she was seated to the hilt and was able to relax her burning thighs. She was surprised at how good it actually felt.

“Good girl. How do you feel?”

“Full,” she gasped.

“Not as full as you’re going to be. Now be a good girl and start to fuck it.”

This was one command that she could easily follow. She began to undulate her hips. She used her thighs and calves to raise herself up a few inches before lowering herself again. She did this several times, each time the feeling was better than the rest. Her eyes drifted closed and soon nothing mattered but her own pleasure. Nothing existed but her and the thick object penetrating her. Up and down. Up and down. Each breach into her weeping pussy was better than the one before.

“Oh, God,’ she whispered as she ground her swollen clit against the base of the thickly veined latex.

She heard a growl and her snapped open her eyes. Roman had left the couch and was stalking over to her. His thick cock bobbed between his legs with every step that he took. He stopped, his beautiful manhood just inches away from her lips.

“Suck it. Take my cock into your mouth.”

He didn’t need to say it twice. She parted her lips and leaned her head forward. Her tongue darted out to catch the fluid that seeped out the head of his cock.

“Mmmm,” she purred. He tasted salty and musky, all man.

She used her tongue to swirl around the mushroom head before swooping about halfway down his shaft. He was too big for her to get more that a few inches into her mouth so she brought her hands up to grasp the part of him that she wasn’t able to reach with her mouth. In this position, she wasn’t able to do much more than grind her clit against the base of the penis but the sensation was more than enough.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Suck me.”

Roman lifted his hands to tangle them in the back of her head. He neither guided her nor forced her head; he simply held it in place. She risked a peek up at his face. His head was thrown back. The veins in his throat bulged as his Adam’s apple bobbed. A shiver ran through her at the knowledge of the power over this strong man.

Yolie allowed her eyes to drift shut again as she concentrated on pleasuring the hard staff in her mouth.

“Harder,” he growled.

She complied, hollowing out her cheeks as she sought to bring him deeper into the moist cavern of her mouth. She was rewarded for her effort with a deep groan. Her hands and mouth worked in conjunction with one another, alternately sucking and grasping him tightly.

“Damn, you have a sweet mouth,” he muttered before pulling his cock out of her mouth. Yolie tried to follow but he stepped back before she could reclaim him.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, love. Any more of that and I’d have spilled into that delectable mouth of yours. And while the idea is certainly appealing, it will have to keep for another time. Right now I would much rather come into that delicious little pussy of yours. Come now, off we go.”

Before she could draw a breath, he grasped her beneath her arms and hauled her off the chair. She moaned at the sensation of the veiny fake cock as it slipped out of her. Roman took advantage of her open mouth by pressing his to it. His tongue speared deep and she knew that he tasted himself on her. Their tongues lashed together, each seeking the other in desperation. Yolie wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer. Her nipples rubbed against the hair on his chest, causing delicious shivers that ended in her pussy.

Before she knew what happened he had lowered them both to the floor in front of the chair. He pulled away. She reached for him only to be placed on her hands and knees, facing the Pink Monster. She saw that the shaft was still wet with her juices. She turned to look over her shoulder, watched as he reached for his pants to pull out the small foil packet with the distinctive black Magnum label. He certainly didn’t buy them for show. She was enthralled as he pulled
Roman ran his finger down her spine, tracing every vertebrae. She arched into his touch like a cat seeking her master’s caress. He stopped when he reached her bottom and proceeded to cup both her cheeks in his palm. “You have such a lovely ass. I wonder has it ever been fucked?”
Her eyes popped as she shook her head. No one had ever tried to go there, she would never let them. And she sure as shit was not about to let him ram that baby bat in there.

“Pity, not the time, I think. But I must warn you, I have definite plans for it in the future. Ah, there it is,” he groaned as he spread her cheeks apart. In the position, she knew that he had just about the clearest view of her weeping pussy.

“Such a pretty little cunt,” he mused. Normally, she would have winced at the use of the word but once again Roman had weaved a spell that made anything that he said, or did, acceptable.

“And so wet. It’s positively dripping down your thigh. How does it taste, I wonder?”

Yolie fought back the urge to wave her ass in his face like a dog in heat although that certainly was what she was. She moaned when he slipped two fingers into her hot, moist channel. Before she could even begin to enjoy the feeling, he withdrew them. Over her shoulder, she watched through slumberous eyes as he placed his fingers in his mouth, lapping off the taste of her.

“You taste sweet. I think you should know how much.”

Yolie expected him to dip back into her to retrieve her creamy fluid so she was surprised when his hands went to her pussy, but to her head. He urged her forward until the tip of the pink shaft was against her kiss-swollen lips.

“You’re such a good little cocksucker that I’d like to see you do it again. Lick it, Yolie. Tell me what it tastes like. What you taste like.”

Yolie stuck out her tongue and licked the top of the shaft. The taste was surprisingly good. Not at all what she had expected. Intrigued, she grew emboldened and began to lick at the shaft in earnest.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Just like that. What do you taste like, Yolie.”

“Sweet,” she moaned. “Musky and sweet.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned and without warning, he plunged himself into her until he was seated to the hilt. The motion pushed the dildo further into her mouth and prevented anything but a muffled moan to leave her lips. God, he was hug. The position pushed him deep, deeper than anyone had ever been inside her. She could swear that she felt him in the back of her throat. She was sure that he had lodged himself in her heart.

She pulled back from the dildo and released it with a soft pop.

“Fuck me,” she moaned. He felt so good inside her. She was stuffed to overflowing and she loved it. His cock scraped across her delicate vaginal walls. She wanted all of him. She used those muscles to squeeze at his invading flesh.

“You’re so tight. So fucking tight. That’s right. Give it to me. Give me that sweet pussy.”

She pushed back against him, wanting more, demanding more. And he gave it to her. Roman pulled out only to slam back into her. He gave her no quarter. He fucked her as though her pussy belonged to him, as though she belonged to him.

And she did.

Soon enough, Yolie got her wish and his balls smack against her clit, sending delicious chills all over her body. The sound of wet flesh smacking against wet flesh along with pleasured moans and groans created a sweet symphony throughout the room. Yolie felt her climax building, starting from her pussy and pulsating outward. She didn’t want it to end, didn’t want him to stop fucking her but he had spent so much time teasing her that she had no choice.

She exploded.

Brilliant white stars danced before her eyes and her pussy clamped down hard on Roman’s thick cock before releasing, seeking to milk him dry. She barely heard Roman’s own shout of completion before she collapsed in a heap on the floor, Roman’s big body following her down.
Yolie had no idea how much time had passed before she was able to open her eyes. Her breathing had yet to return to normal. Some time in the interval, Roman had rolled to the side but kept his arm around her waist almost as if he were afraid she’d walk away. As though sensing her scrutiny, he turned his head. He wore the look of well-satisfied man. She was sure that the same dopey expression was on her face.

“That was incredible.” He purred.

“Yes, it was.”

He rolled over onto his elbow to face her. He pushed back a damp strand of hair from her face. “I have wanted to do that for a long time.”

She was startled. “You have?”

“I have. I just wasn’t sure that my attentions would be welcome. When your cousin Chandra came to me with this plan, I was sure that she was batty. But I guess it worked.”

“So you knew about the chair?”

“I picked it out myself. I almost came in my pants at the thought of you riding it. I must say that the reality was much better than anything I imagined. Ah, and that reminds me. Your cousin asked me to give you this.”

Roman stretched out a hand to retrieve his slacks. He reached into the back pocket, pulled out a slim card, and handed it to her.

She recognized Chandra’s handwriting immediately. The note read:

Dear Yolie,
Well, I hope you like your birthday present. I went to a lot of trouble to get it for you. I can’t tell you how fucking hard it was, although I’m sure that you will be able to tell me. ;)
Happy Birthday,

“Well, this certainly has been an eventful birthday.”

“But the night’s not over yet and I’m sure that this chair has a lot more uses.” He stated before lowering his head to catch her lips in a searing kiss.

She was counting on it.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Pet Peeves

So I figure that since I have this blog, I may as well do something with it. And I have to thank my critique group for this particular topic.

Let me begin by saying that this blog will feature some of my work, some of the life of an author trying to get published, and some of what I think about my chosen profession. As with all authors, I am an avid reader. I love books. I can (and do) spend hours in bookstores and libraries. Now, as you may have guessed, my books of choice are romances. Romances in all their glory from the short and sweet HQ Romance to hardcore Erotica. I read it all. I wish I can say that I write it all but I mostly spicy romance, erotic romance, and more recently romantic suspense. But always with the romance. I can't help it, from the time I picked up my first Silhouette desire when I was 12, I was hooked. You never forget your first love, and while I may have forgotten the first romance I loved, I have never forgotten that I love romance.

Which brings me, rather long windedly, to the point of this blog, aptly names Pet Peeves.

One of my biggest pet peeve is romance writers who move into
more mainstream fiction and pull their romance readers along with them. I could name several but I'm sure that I don't need to do that. (Because one, I might meet them some day and two, I'm not that tacky.)

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with an author following their muse. I know that as artists, we need to write the book of our hearts, regardless of what other people may say. We need to be true to ourselves. No, my problem is not with a romance writer moving from romantic suspense to straight suspense. My problem is that as a reader I feel that sometimes I get duped or feel slighted when I go to the bookstore, see an author that I like, buy her book expecting one thing and getting another.

So a few months ago, this very thing happened. I was in a bookstore, saw one of my favorite romantic suspense writers, read the back cover, bought the book, read it, enjoyed it, but still left feeling...unsatisfied. Why? Because I bought a romantic suspense and got instead, a very fine...suspense.

WTF? It was in the romance section. The back blurb mentions a hero and heroine. The HEA (Happily Ever After) was guaranteed! What went wrong?!?!

Needless to say that this has happened once too often to me and I get a wild hair up my ass. I decide to write the author and tell her of my concerns.

Here is my letter (the names have been changed to protect the innocent):

Dear Ms. Romantic Suspense Author,
First let me say that I have always been a huge fan of your work from even your days with a top series romance publisher. I have followed your career and you have been on my 'Must Buy' list for many years. So it is with a very heavy heart that I write this letter. I recently bought and read your latest novel 'Romantic Suspense that is not really a Romantic Suspense.' I had to admit, I was very skeptical to buy it after your previous novel, 'Moving so far away from Romance' not because you were any less talented an author, but because I felt that you were straying away from the 'romance' in your 'Romantic Suspense.' But I put aside these hesitations and bought your book.

Before I go on, I want to say that I did enjoy the book. It was a very well-written suspense. But that was all it was, a suspense. There was no romance in it, in my opinion. Yes to two main characters ended up in a relationship, but even that seemed more of an afterthought. I know from reading your previous books that you have always balanced the two elements of romance and suspense extremely well. I was very disappointed that it seemed you strayed from that path.

I know that you're probably asking yourself why I am writing this since I did enjoy the book. I can only imagine that it feels like I'm patting you on the back with one hand and smacking you across the face with the other.

Well, the reason for this letter is simply to convey my feelings of aggravation and disappointment that this book was marketed as a 'Romantic Suspense' when it clearly was not. I have very specific expectations when I pick up your work. In addition to a well-written work, I cannot help but also to expect the 'romance.' I admit that I feel cheated when I see your name, know your 'brand,' and don't get what I wanted. It's kind of like buying 'Oreos' and getting 'Nilla Wafers.' Both are delicious but when you want an 'Oreo,' you want an 'Oreo.'

(Still) A Fan

So, all in all not a bad letter. I made sure to compliment her writing, which was very much quality. I was simply mentioning that I felt cheated. I felt I did it in a very classy way.

Her? Not so much judging from her response. My comments are in parentheses.

Sorry you were disappointed, Monica (bitch). Just so you don't have that problem with me again, please understand that the amount of romance is always and has always been dictated by the story, not from some arbitrary measuring cup (whatever!). That won't change; some novels will have more "romance" than others – and I won't know that ahead of time.

As for the marketing aspect, please contact the publisher, not the author; marketing is their job. And, to be fair, they've been marketing my work as suspense/thriller more than romantic suspense for sometime now
(YEAH right! Why did I find you in the romance section of my bookstore?), but the bookstores insist on continuing to shelve my work very often in the romance section (Now what she doesn't know is that I am in the 'business' so I know that publishers pay bookstores for shelf space. They call it 'real estate.' They want their authors front and center. They also pay bookstores to have certain books face out. That's not just a coincidence whose name you see on the bookshelves.) and many reviewers continue to view it that way as well (AND you work with your publisher on publicity. You know who they're sending ARCs [Advanced Reader Copies] to. You know that they want your book reviewed in RT Magazine, which is a ROMANCE review magazine.). Which is fine with me – except when I get letters like yours (WHOA, bitchy much?).

(Ex-) Romance Writer

Yeah, a more snarky, snippy letter I have never received. I didn't even get a salutation. And that last line! I KNOW that I am not the first person to writer her this exact same letter. As a reader, I know that I can be a rabid bitch. I have very firm opinions and I expect a lot from my favorite authors. I'm also very forgiving. I can excuse a book that is 'less than.' I will read you again.

But this is not about her talent. It's about my feeling cheated. I felt swindled, bamboozled.

Here's how I think it should've been handled. (Again, my smart ass comments are in parentheses.)

Dear Monica,

Thank you so much for your loyalty. (And for putting money in my pocket.) I'm glad that you enjoyed my book and my writing. I'm also sorry that you were disappointed. You're right, my career is moving into a different direction. My muse (0r whatever she wants to call it) is taking me in a new direction. I hope that I can count on your continued loyalty in all of my future endeavors (or some such shit!).

(Ex-) Romantic Suspense Author (who still has a devoted fan!)

Now, that is a letter that I would respond to positively. I'm not pissed. I don't vow never to read her again. I read her, just with different expectations. And that is, in some respects, what commercial fiction is about. Balancing reader expectations with your own artistic-ness (if that's even a word).

If not, if we (and though I'm not published, I'm still considering myself in the 'author' column) don't consider our readers, then we may as well write Literary fiction.