Posted in New Adult Romances

#SundaySnippet: Truly, Madly, Deeply by Clare Dugmore #amazon #lgbt #romancebook

I’m highlighting one of my good friends newest work! I’ve been friends with Clare for years…like dating back to our fan fiction days, I believe? So I’m super jazzed to promote her book!

TMD Cover Official 2020_Paperback


Blurb:

Rule Number One: Don’t fall for one of the parents of a kid you coach.

Rule Number Two: Don’t fall for a straight woman.

Rhiannon O’Bryan finds herself breaking both those rules when she meets single-mom Sabrina Thompson on the first day of fourth-grade soccer practice.

Sabrina Thompson has enough complications in her life. Her ex is a nightmare and her boss is a pervert, the last thing she needs is her budding friendship with fellow single-mom Rhia throwing her entire life into confusion.

But as their ten-year-old daughters Teagan and Piper spend more and more time with each other, Rhia and Sabrina become close. Rhia thinks she’s deluding herself by lusting after a straight woman, and Sabrina has never considered herself to be anything but straight before.


Snippet:

“I feel like a total bitch,” I say to the computer screen. My laptop is propped open on the coffee table, and I have a bottle of beer in one hand as I chat to my brother who is over three-thousand miles away.

Adding to my guilt, I also feel like a total cow for waking him up at two in the morning, but I know I won’t be able to get any sleep until I’ve spoken to someone about this, and no one knows me better than Mac. So, after Teagan was settled in bed, I opened a beer and text my brother telling him I desperately needed to talk, and like the sweetheart he is, he replied saying he’d be on Skype in ten minutes.

On the screen is a video image of Mac, wrapped in his wife’s fluffy dressing gown and sipping from a cup of tea. His blond hair is sticking up at odd angles, and he looks very far removed from the usual immaculately put together image my brother usually projects. It’s a sign of how much he loves me that he’s not only awake at 2 a.m. but also that he’s allowing someone other than Kate to see him in anything less than a perfect state.

“Why, because you lied about not being able to find a sitter? Or because you’re not replying to her messages?”

I’ve already explained to Mac what exactly is bothering me – Sabrina. Sabrina and my feelings for her. When she text me to tell me about deciding to go back to college I’d been so happy for her all I’d been concerned about was that she should celebrate. But her suggestion that we go out for dinner or something that weekend sounded a little too much like a date. Only it wasn’t a date, and it never would be. It was just a single mum wanting to hang out with another parent. Like a coward, I’d avoided answering her message, and then pretended to be busy when she collected Piper from football practice. Then when she’d suggested going out again, I’d lied.

“All of it. I’m such a bitch. She’s a really nice person, and probably just wants a friend, but I can’t handle it. God, this is stupid, Mac. I feel like a teenager with a crush.”

On the video call, my brother grins at me over the rim of his cup. “It’s adorable, that’s what it is. And how do you know she’s not interested in dating you?”

“Erm, because she was married. To a man.”

“Right, but has she actually ever said she’s only interested in men? You never know.”

I take a swig of beer and reply, “I told her about Beth and she didn’t say anything then.”

“Right, because when someone tells you their wife died is the perfect time to bring up that you’re not straight yourself. She was just been sensitive of your feelings. Ask her out. What’s the worst that will happen?”

In my head, I imagine Sabrina rejecting me, and my chest tightens. Damn, who knew I’d fallen this hard?

“She can say no. That’s what. If she tells me she’s straight, or worse she is into women too, just not me, how will I ever look her in the eyes again?”

“And what, that’s better than lying to her and ignoring her?”

“Sure. I’ll get over this dumb crush eventually.”

Mac puts his teacup down on the table and shuffles closer to the screen. “Is that what you really want? To get over her?”

“Yes, then I can think about finding someone who is actually into women.”

“Well, you know what you’ve got to do then? Hook up with someone else. And if you’re still thinking about Sabrina after hooking up with someone else, you’ll know this is more than a simple crush.”

I scoff at his suggestion. “Mac, this isn’t high school.”

“You got a better idea?” When I don’t answer, he smiles smugly. “Didn’t think so. And I want to get back to bed. So take my advice: Either ask her out and risk rejection, or sleep with someone else and get her out of your system.”

“That’s your only advice. Risk rejection or sleep with someone else? Fat lot of good you are!”

“It’s 2 a.m. for Christ’s sake. You want better advice, call when I’m not asleep.”

I bow my head. “I’m sorry. Thank you. I love you. Give my love to Kate, too.”

“I will, and I love you too. Tell Tea I love her as well.”

“I will. Talk to you soon.”

“Talk soon.”

Mac ends the video call, and I close my laptop lid, lean back against the couch, and drain my bottle of beer. There’s no way I’m asking Sabrina out. Like I said to Mac, if she rejects me, how will I ever be able to face her again? And, as juvenile as Mac’s other suggestion is, maybe getting out and meeting someone new will help me get over my crush on Sabrina. In fact, that’s probably it … I’m not really into her, I’m just lonely, and she’s pretty. And funny. And interesting to talk to…

Fuck. I’m screwed, aren’t I?

I pull out my phone and text Dana, my former friends-with-benefits turned wing-woman, and all-round awesome person.

>Fancy heading to Electric Six tomorrow?<

>Why? You looking to hook up?<

I have to laugh. Dana always knows when I’ve got one thing in mind.

>Yeah. The trusty old vibe isn’t cutting it these days.<

>LOL I hear ya, sister! Meet you in the city about 8? We can grab some dinner first?<

>Sounds like a plan.<

With the arrangements made, I text Beth’s parents to double check they’re still happy to have Teagan for the weekend, which of course, they are. Beth’s parents try to see their granddaughter at least once a month, and are always happy to have her stop a night or two if I need a break.


 

To pre-order your copy, please click the following links:

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52816657-truly-madly-deeply

Pre Order Link: Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B088DDK2NF

                             Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B088DDK2NF

Thank you to Clare for letting me promote her work! She’s been a great friend and I’m so happy to return the favor to her!

Show her some love!


About The Author:

Clare Dugmore is a writer, bookworm, and daydreamer from the West-Midlands, UK.

Clare’s love of literature not only motivates her career as an author but influences her desire to help other writers get their work out to the world.

She is the author of one novel and two short stories, with other projects in the works.

Clare is currently working as a freelance ghostwriter. In addition, she is a freelance proofreader, as well as a personal assistant for co-op publishers Snowy Wings Publishing and Crimson Fox Publishing.

Clare is a thirty-something, married, mother of two from the West Midlands, of England.

In her spare time, she enjoys binge-watching shows with her hubby, spending time with her two sons, and playing video games.

Author Link: https://linktr.ee/ClareDugmore

 

Profile Oct 2019

Posted in New Adult Romances

#TeaserTuesday: Feeling Some Type of Way

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After flipping through a variety of movies that neither one of us were interested in, we finally decided to watch an indie flick. I made some popcorn and brought out sodas. I turned off the lights and made my way to my section of the sofa.

We were bookends.

Usually people sit at a relatively close distance with each other. Maybe not cuddling, but at least within arm’s reach. We were so far apart on the long sofa, I had a feeling I was in a different zip code.

We watched the movie in silence, with Ian chuckling at some parts. Not sure if he truly enjoyed the movie or if he wondered how in the hell did his Thanksgiving become such a clusterfuck? Still, he seemed to be enjoying himself no matter the case and that’s what really mattered.

“So, why is it that you don’t have a boyfriend?”

His question jarred me from the bright TV screen and I found myself stammering. Here I thought Ian was in his own mind, entertaining himself in BFE while he was really scoping my history. “Wh-wh-what do you mean?”

“If you had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t be here; he would be. Your pulchritude is legendary and your intelligence is astounding. So why are you single?”

My pulchritude is legendary? Holy shit, Batman! That’s the most incredible thing a man has ever said to me. (Pulchritude means beauty, for those who don’t know.)

If I was at a loss of words before, I’m truly stunned now. “I’m picky about who I date.”

Ian nodded as if he agreed with my stance. “Good. Too many wasteful men out there.”

I decided to flip the script on him. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“I’m just as picky,” he nodded and slouched down on the sofa, “everyone knows the Ferguson name but all they see is the flashy cars, the designer clothes, and the celebrity friends.”

“Well, that’s courtesy of you, Ian,” I pointed out. His IG account was filled with his expensive toys, celebrity friends, and vacation pics from around the world. He was definitely the flashier of the Fergusons. I’m sure he being named as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors didn’t hurt his cause.

But he was a quiet flashy, if that makes sense. Other than he switched dates as much as I switched TV channels, you never heard about him getting it poppin’ in the club or acting like an asshole like some of these celebrity wannabes. Even online (because yes, when you have a crush on someone you Google the hell out of them; don’t act like I’m the only one), his fangirls talk about their encounters with him. How handsome he was (true), how polite and kind he was (also true), and how amazing he smelled (that is damn true).

I guess when you’re a successful restaurateur at 33, you don’t have time for the unnecessary bullcrap.

“I know my role,” he shrugged as if he took the blame but he still didn’t see what was wrong, “it’s when a woman sees all of that but wonders why you can’t see her because you’re hosting a celebrity party…when you’re catering a private event…when you have to shut down the restaurant because a wealthy client wanted to celebrate his son’s bat mitzvah…” His voice trailed off and he gave a defeated shrug. It seemed to be an issue he’d dealt with for a while.

DJ Khaled always mentioned he suffered from success and I thought it was a joke. The only thing that man suffered from was too many trips to the buffet table. Now hearing Ian wax poetic, I get it. If Ian wanted to be successful on his own, it meant he couldn’t give the same focus to his dating life.

I would feel sorry for him but I’m sure as lonely as he gets, his dick stays wet as evident by our first encounter at his penthouse.

“They see the success but not the hard work that goes behind it,” I mentioned.

“Everyone does.” Ian replied. “That’s what rappers sell. That’s what those late-night scamming informercials sell. That’s what the reality shows sell. They show the big homes, the flashy cars, the designer purses and clothes. They don’t see the 12-hour days. They don’t see us working seven days a week. They don’t see us working major holidays.” Ian sighed again. “Every Valentine’s Day, I’ve spent it at my restaurants, not with a date.”

I mean, if you want a Valentine’s date in a few months, my schedule is wide open, boy. “I don’t see you crying over that.”

“Because I didn’t. They did.” Ian seemed part-remorseful and part-annoyed. Now I understand why he doesn’t have girlfriends. Too much time and energy to dedicate to a single person. Lord knows I’m needy and would want to see him all of the time.

Maybe it’s a good thing he’s just a fantasy and not reality. I had a feeling I would’ve been super disappointed.

“Domi?”

“Yes, Ian?”

“You could scoot closer to me if you like. I promise I won’t disrespect you.”

Gotta love it when a man tells you he’ll be on his best behavior. Also gotta love it when you wish he wasn’t. This is a part of Ian I would later find out how incredibly frustrating it is. I mean, if he decided to give my ass a little smack, I don’t think I would mind that at all.

I laid my head on his chest and listened to the soft beating of his heart as his arm lazily draped over my body. He felt even better than I’d imagined. His muscular build hugged me right back. His cologne tickled every one of my senses.

Ian was better than hot cocoa on a blistering cold night. Just feeling his warmth and strength beneath me was everything.

His hand was close to my butt and if he wanted to (I wanted him to), he could’ve copped a feel.

He didn’t.

Instead, he splayed his fingers across my thighs as they slowly massaged my skin. It wasn’t sexual but sensual; almost second-nature as if he’d already done this before with me. With us.

It was a comforting feeling. It was a weird as hell feeling. We came from two different worlds and he’s already well-established in his while I’m still trying to find my way. Yet, it feels like we were supposed to connect with each other at this time, this moment.

His fingers stopped moving and I instantly noticed the sudden movement. I looked up at Ian and saw him peacefully sleeping. Damn, he even looked heavenly as he slept.

Now I was in a predicament: do I wake him up so he could sleep in my room with me? Do I leave him on the sofa? Furthermore, if he does sleep in my room, would he assume to sleep in my bed with me in it?

I guess there’s only one way to find out.

I gently shook him awake. “Ian,” his eyes slowly opened to mine, “let’s go to bed.”

He blinked at me twice. “I beg your pardon?”

“To sleep,” I emphasized, trying to convince myself. “My bed is more comfortable than this sofa.”

I helped him up and led the way to the bedroom. I removed the blankets and crawled into bed. “Your turn!”

Ian’s next move was the ultimate game-changer. He removed his shirt, revealing every bit of fantasy I had ever imagined. Good Lord, Hallelujah! Tawny skin adorned washboard abs, hardened nipples, and just-right muscular arms.

He stepped out of his jeans and I noticed he was a boxer brief man. Yes, I was staring at his crotch and I couldn’t tell you how big or small he was but I’m pretty damn sure he was just right.

He climbed in bed and cuddled right next to me. “You’re okay with me being in bed with you like this?” He asked.

I was more than okay. My tummy fluttered with anticipation while the loud pounding of my heart matched the equal thumping in the vee of my sex. If tonight was the night he was going to deflower me, this was better than any trashy novel I’ve ever read. “I’m good,” I whispered.

“Domi?”

“Yes, Ian?”

“I won’t sleep with you tonight so you don’t have to worry about that.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll just sleep.”

Emotions are so funny. One minute, I wanted this guy to take me to Pleasure Land with a few pit stops in Ecstasy, Please Lick Me Again, and Multiple Orgasms. The next minute, I wanted to take him to a place called Blue Balls R Us.

As Ian slept with me, I stayed awake and stared up at the ceiling. We won’t date. We won’t ever be lovers. But we’ll be good friends who platonically cuddle in bed.

I’m okay with that.

For now.


 

Feeling Some Type of Way is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, All Romance, Kobo, Smashwords, and iTunes.

To purchase, click here.

And….over the weekend, Feeling Some Type of Way made its way to the Top 100 Multicultural category so I’m super jazzed about that! Thank you so much to all who have purchased and supported! Please leave a review! Thank you again!!

Receipts for the non-believers:

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Posted in fiction, LGBT, New Adult Romances

#SexySunday: Feeling Some Type of Way

feeling-some-type-of-way-1400x2100

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

It was how Ian started the conversation once we’d arrived at the charity gala. The blinding light from numerous photographers flashed in our direction as we walked up the long stairs to the Gallery.

There was a lot Ian didn’t know about me. On our way to the gala, we learned of each other birthdays (his is on October 10th while I’m on June 8th. Yes, I already did the mental horoscope readings of a Libra and Gemini pairing), each other’s favorite food (he loves an Italian dish he can only get in Italy, go figure. I’m good with the nearest Papa John’s), and annoyances (in his words, ‘I hate stupid women.’ I think that’s something we both agreed on).

But now the fun and games were over. He wanted to know something more in-depth about me. The fact I often tossed and turned at night and never slept in one spot. The fact I’m a Maury diehard even going as far as predicting which storylines were faker than Kim Kardashian’s butt.

I’m sure none of that interested Ian.

I didn’t want to play all intelligent and S-M-R-T because that’s not why he brought me here. I decided to surprise him with something I know would either scare him off or welcome him into the family.

“My brother is now my sister,” I smiled for the camera as Ian wrapped a hand around my waist.

He turned to me with a smile on his face. I don’t know if it was genuine or if he did it for the ‘Gram. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Her name is Adrienne.” I made sure all of my teeth showed. “Do I have any lipstick on my teeth?”

“No, you’re perfect,” he casually replied. He has a tendency of making life-changing compliments like that as if they’re nothing.

“That doesn’t bother you?” I asked as we held hands and walked inside. “A lot of people don’t like that.”

“I’m strangely curious, yes. I don’t know any transgendered people,” he admitted, “but I would love to meet your…” He paused. “…sister.”

Baby steps. At least he wasn’t disgusted by Adrienne and seemed open to meeting her. “She used to be a sex worker but she’s not anymore. She sells art online.”

Ian picked up two glasses of champagne and handed one to me. “Is she good?”

“I think she is but that’s just my opinion. I’m sure everyone would say the same about their sibling.” I shrugged.

“Not necessarily. I kick Gerald’s ass in basketball while he wipes the floor with me in chess.” He replied. He clinked glasses with me. “To a beautiful future.”

I felt the small zaps of hope popping up all over my body as my heart belted into a chorus of Rihanna’s “Only Girl In the World.” My pounding heartbeat was making me deaf. “To a beautiful future,” I calmly replied as I sipped the champagne. Wow. This shit is horrible. I’m not sure if I even want to speak to the server who gave me this. This shit tastes like fallen dreams and sorrow.

Even Ian noticed the taste. He stared down at his glass as if he wanted the taste to somehow appear. All of this fancy-schmancy glitz and they can’t get the champagne, right? “I want to meet your sister and see her artwork.” He finally turned to me. “I want to get to know you more, Domi. I feel like I don’t really know you.”

“I could say the same about you.” It’s true. I have an idea who Ian is but I really have no clue.

He stepped closer to me and caressed my cheek. “Trust me when I say you already know a whole lot about me than most people, if not all.” He heard his name called and nodded the other person over. “Let’s go mingle with some stuffy fools tonight.”

That man is full of surprises. Just when I think I know Ian and what he’s all about, he hits me with another one of his notorious pop quizzes. I better get an A in this class.


 

Feeling Some Type of Way will be available on Tuesday.

To purchase, click here.

Posted in V-Spots

Vanessa Williams’ Penthouse Photos, Pt. II (Definitely NSFW)

Again, these are NSFW. Just WOW!

 

 

 

The rest of these pictures are just Vanessa by herself. She had quite the body back in the day:

And yes, in case you’re wondering, there is a part III to this series. She loved being naked back in the day.

Posted in erotica

Vanessa Williams’ Penthouse Photos, Pt. 1 (DEFINITELY NSFW)

So a while ago, I posted a sneak peek of Vanessa Williams’ infamous nude photos that cost her the Miss America crown back in 1984. If you need a refresher, click here.

Since those photos have been one of the highest viewed posts on the blog, I decide to give the viewers what they want: the full photo shoot. Now, I must warn you, these photos are very explicit.

 

 

Lord have mercy…

Posted in erotica, fiction

Vera Short: The Show, Part IV (NSFW)

The worst thing about the unknown is the feeling everyone knows a secret but you. Trina was there.

She stood in the center of the room, staring at the empty spotlight before her. Whoever that Tamran chick was had no respect for time or other people’s feelings, Trina bristled. But that was part of the game. Trina was the newcomer, the virgin. She shuddered at the thought. Was she really doing all of this shit? Was she really standing there?

What the fuck was she thinking?

Anticipation soon became annoyance and frustration. Standing still in five-inch stilettos was making her feet hurt. She found her throat was exceptionally thirsty despite having two glasses of champagne earlier. Come on, where is she? Trina soon got her answer.

The middle of the dance floor opened up and a long silver pole appeared. Trina instantly recognized it. Stripper pole. It was a stripper’s lifeline as much as stiletto heels. A thundering bass line reverberated throughout the room. And then she appeared.

She was an older woman, probably in her 40s. She had long, auburn hair that softly swayed.  She wore a dress that left very little to the imagination with high slits up her thick thighs and a deep V-cut which guaranteed she wouldn’t make too many sudden movements.  But it was her heat that made everyone stood still. She owned the room from the moment she appeared. Tamran was an amazon.

From the first sight, Tamran already knew breaking Trina in was going to be fun. She just hoped she wasn’t too rough for the virgin. “You’re Trina,” her voice was soft but authoritative.

Trina swallowed hard and started to look behind her but felt her head suddenly heavy and frozen. “Ye..ye…yes.”

Tamran slowly walked to Trina, stalking her like a cat. She circled around the young woman at least five times before she stopped behind her. Trina felt Tamran’s eyes pierce through her soul. She had probably seen other women like Trina. They were probably just as brazen. They all probably have been shut down just as bad.

Trina suddenly felt a pair of hand snake around her waist. “Don’t worry, baby,” Tamran whispered, “this will only hurt just a little.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Trina’s voice unintentionally cracked.

Tamran slid her hands up Trina’s arms. “Everything,” she purred.  She cued the music. It was a song Trina wasn’t familiar with but would later discover to be Tina Turner’s “Whole Lotta Love.” Eventually, it became one of her favorite songs for other reasons. Tamran led Trina to the stripper pole and made her lean against it. She pressed her index finger against Trina’s.

“Enjoy,” she mouthed.

Trina clutched onto the stripper pole. She was no longer scared but quite intrigued. Still, it was the fear of the unknown in front of a room full of people that still didn’t sit well with her. She took a deep breath and let her body relax. After the past hour of back and forth, she needed this. Whatever “this” was.

Trina looked up and locked eyes with Tamran. The older woman became an instant goddess within seconds. Tamran rocked her body to the rhythm slowly as the emotion poured over her. She closed her eyes while her hands roamed her body. She felt her breasts, spread her legs and ran her hands over her pussy.

Trina stood in awe, completely hypnotized. Good. It was exactly what Tamran wanted. Within seconds, Tamran’s eyes opened and her clothing peeled off her body. Her physique was of a mythical goddess with thick curves.  Her breasts were about a full B-cup Trina guessed. But it was Tamran’s ass and thighs that caught Trina’s attention. They were delicious. They were heavenly. They were soon wrapped around her waist.

Everything happened so fast, Trina felt she was in a rollercoaster. Her head was spinning with emotion. Her body was overwhelmed with heat and desire. Her head was tilted back as she felt Tamran’s tongue assault her lips then her neck. She was so turned on she didn’t realize Tamran had completely undressed her. The only thing Trina was wearing were her stiletto heels.

Tamran’s hands explored every part of Trina’s body from her breasts to her thighs. But it was Trina’s landing strip on her pussy that caught Tamran’s attention. Too many women were shaving it all off and Tamran longed for the days of peach pussy fuzz. Unbeknownst to Trina, she made Tamran’s wish come true.

To be continued…

Posted in V-Spots

3 Guys Droppin’ It Like It’s Hot (DAMN)

I think I’m mad at them for working it better than I could. Sheesh.

Posted in erotica, fiction

A Vera Short: The Show, Pt. III (NSFW)

“Trina,” their escort extended her hand, “we’re ready for you.”

Trina turned to look at Darryl who nodded in agreement. He planned this for how long? “Ready for what?”

“You’ve come this far,” the escort encouraged, “you can decide if you want to participate or not. It would be silly if you didn’t.”

“That sounds like a threat,” Trina shot back. The escort smiled and brushed a lock of hair behind Trina’s ear. She walked up to Trina and stood inches from her. Their lips were touching and the heat between the women steadily rose. “Think of it more as a promise, if you will…”

“You talk a lot of a shit for a girl,” Trina replied. Even though the heat between her legs were telling a different tale, she couldn’t let the escort know that.

“Sweetheart, I’m not that much younger than you. You may beat me in age but it’s a fucking guarantee I can make your head spin when it comes to experience.” The escort’s admission made Trina quickly shut up.  “I talk a lot of shit, yes,” the escort grinned, “and you know and I both know I can back that shit up in a heartbeat.”

“I didn’t come here to see a goddamn lecture for fuck’s sake!” A male voice shouted from above.

The younger escort looked up and pointed at the man. “And you won’t see anything else tonight, either,” she directed security to promptly remove the man.

Trina was astounded. What was going on there? Who was that young woman? Did she really have that power and influence?

“My house,” the younger escort seemed to have read Trina’s mind, “my rules.” Her focus turned back to Trina. “Are you going to play or leave?”

Trina felt the weight of the entire mansion on her shoulders. There was an unspoken pressure on her to participate. Truth to be told, she wanted to play. The moment she stepped foot inside, she wanted to watch, encourage others, and maybe participate. She and Darryl flirted with exhibitionism in the past by having sex outdoors and Trina wearing next to nothing on some dates. She considered herself the freakiest of her girlfriends and was proud of that fact.

Maybe she talked a lot of shit.

Trina’s mind flashed back to the countless number of times she had told her girlfriends to try something and why they were ‘pussying out’ on exploring their sexuality. How the tables have turned. The kettle calling the pot, she thought.

Clearly, everyone who was in the room had to have been a newcomer at one point or another; it was an exclusive club. Trina wanted to have sex but doing it in front of  fifty people watching her was more than a little intimidating.  She felt like she was being singled out and her cheeks were on fire from embarrassment.

But if she didn’t perform in front of everyone, her time at the mansion was going to be incredibly short. It was her initiation night and Trina felt like a virgin all over again. “I’ll play.”

The younger escort smiled. “Good girl. Correct answer,” she brought Trina to the middle of the floor where the spotlight was. “Wait here. Tamran will be up shortly.” She disappeared into the shadows.

Tamran? Trina began to think. Who the fuck is Tamran?

To be continued…

Posted in V-Spots

A Vera Short: The Show, Part II (NSFW)

The mansion was something Trina imagined she only saw in movies. The dark and mysterious hallway with faint candle lighting. The chilly and inexplicable breeze that seemed to come out of nowhere. The uneasy feeling of someone always watching her every step. It was creepy and Trina silently thanked God Darryl was with her.

But it was the sounds that fucked up Trina’s mind. The moans, coos, and screams that made Trina hot. It was one thing to watch porn at home; it was completely different to watch live sex in front of her. Should I participate or just watch, she silently wondered. On top of everything, Trina was particularly mad she had to wear that silly mask. It was giving her tunnel vision. Little did Trina realize it would come in handy later that evening. “Where are we going?” she finally asked.

The young woman smiled. “We’re almost there.”

Trina walked briskly down the hall. She didn’t realize how cold the mansion was until she saw her breath. She quickly rubbed her hands up and down her arms to get just a bit of warmth in them.

“You won’t notice the chill later,” the younger woman appeared to have eyes in the back of her head, “in fact, you’ll be thankful the place is so cold.” She suddenly stopped at a curtain and appeared to turn around in slow motion. “We’re here.”

Trina looked behind the young woman. There wasn’t a door in sight. “Where are we?”

The younger woman pulled the curtains back. “We’re at the show…”

Behind the curtains was a large room that appeared to be a stage.  There was a big spotlight shining down in the center of the room.  Guests were lined up against the wall in various states of undress from completely nude to partially dressed.  Their faces were stoic and appeared focused just on the spotlight as if they were attending a lecture or a study.

Trina looked around the room and tried to contain her emotion, not wanting to look like the odd woman out with her mouth gaping open. But her mind couldn’t stop racing. Where were they? Who are these people? How long had Darryl known about this place? What other secrets was he keeping from her? So many questions and Trina contemplated how badly she wanted to know the answers. She quickly concluded some things were left best as rhetorical questions.

“Trina,” their escort extended her hand, “we’re ready for you.”

Trina turned to look at Darryl who nodded in agreement. He planned this for how long? “Ready for what?”

“You’ve come this far,” the escort encouraged, “you can decide if you want to participate or not. It would be silly if you didn’t.”

“That sounds like a threat,” Trina shot back.

The escort smiled and brushed a lock of hair behind Trina’s ear. She walked up to Trina and stood inches from her. Their lips were touching and the heat between the women steadily rose. “Think of it more as a promise, if you will…”

To be continued…

Posted in erotica

Sexy Post of the Day…for the LGBT crowd (NSFW)

You know….this picture brings the bi- bitch out of me. I think she wants to play again. Fuck, that’s sexy!

The photographer is the great John McCall. Link to his website is on the pic.