Monday, May 31, 2010

Sexy Vampires & Smoking Werewolves - which team do you choose?

My stories don't jump to the paranormal - at least not yet.  But anyone who knows me knows that I live for all things Vampyre (well, except for Twilight - that's a whole bunch of teen-angst-batshit-crazy that I want NO part of).  Since I first read Dracula when I was twelve, I've been in total lust with the suckers.  LOL.  And if you read my entries, you can tell that my neck is a serious erogenous zone.  So when I read that Moira Rogers was having a Kindle contest (and don't you just LOVE her name - Moira - so exotic and yet simple), I had to weigh in on this. Plus I am DYING for a full sized Kindle - the app on my iPhone is causing my eyes to cross on a nightly basis, which can't be good.

When given the choice between a bootlegging werewolf, or a vampire lumberjack - there's no contest in my eyes.  Even though the werewolf would have the bonus of bringing booze with him, if I wanted a guy covered in hair I would have married the Italian guy my father tried to set me up with (Kidding - as an Italian I can say that LOL).

My choice?

I’m on Team Vampire. Find out more.

I did a little reading and found out that the blood-sucker wasn't just handy with sharp implements, he's a bit of a bad ass too.  And that just fueled the lust.  I picture strong biceps, cut abs, and gleaming white teeth just waiting to claim me.....

Immortality doesn't seem so bad when you put it that way huh?

So?  Which one gets your paranormal blood boiling? A Vampire Lumberjack, or the Bootlegging Werewolf?

Choose now.

This post is a part of Moira Rogers’ Creature Feature Kindle Throwdown Contest. By leaving a (meaningful) comment, you will be entered to win a Kindle from, or an alternate grand prize of $275 to spend at an online book retailer.  For a full list of rules and more ways to win, visit the contest page.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Tourism Video - Destination: Dirtyville/Kinkyville!

The absolutely wonderfully talented Willsin Row, has decided to expand the growing resume and add travel agent to the laundry list of talents already exhibited.

Check out this lovely little promo video for The Dirtyville Project, and tell me if you wouldn't want to vacation in either of the lovely little towns of Dirtyville or Kinkyville.

Personally, my bags are already packed. Gorgeous, practical, enivronmentally friendly bags found (along with other fantastic merchandise) over at the Dirtyville Blog.

If you haven't gotten them already, check out the side bar for links to get your copies. Well? What are you waiting for? Make it quick - cuz most of the fun happens when the sun goes down.

Thursday, May 6, 2010


Diane shouldn't have answered the phone. She was on her way to get laid. And after the week she'd been having, she really needed a good fuck. But when John called, saying he was meeting Mike for drinks, and inviting her to join....well she just couldn't refuse? Sex could wait - it had been awhile since she'd had a brew, and longer still since she'd seen Mike. And she wanted to see him. More than words could say.

It was perfectly innocent. They were just three friends getting together for drinks after a dozen years apart. And when Mike took her in his arms for one of his patented hugs, she was happy to see he hadn't changed - not even a little bit. 

But she was over him. She'd forgotten how he'd unwittingly broken her heart; at least that's what she'd told herself. And there was no need for Mike to ever remember that he had.

After two pitchers, and a lot of laughs, it looked like it was time to go. Diane was meeting friends for sushi, and she invited the two boys to go with her. John had already consented, now there was just Mike to convince. She reached for his hand, knowing he wouldn't pull away. Batting her lashes flirtatiously, as always, she cajoled. "Please. Come to dinner." He shook his head. "Sorry darling, I can't make it possible to get off the leash that long." Ah yes, the wife; a reminder that she shouldn't get involved. After all, not only did Mike have a wife, but a mistress. Women problems galore. But it couldn't stop her from playing. She stuck her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, and her voice grew low and soft. She didn't see the harm in flirting. It was safe.

Or so she thought.

Mike gazed down at their hands entwined on the tabletop, taking the time to examine them, as if noticing for the first time since they'd known each other how well they fit together. Di's hand grew warm in his, as her pulse began racing. The safe and familiar was suddenly foreign and exotic.

He didn't pull away, instead holding her trembling flesh delicately, stroking his thumb across her knuckles. A lazy smile was aimed her way, those big brown eyes staring up at her from under long light brown lashes.

Her legs tensed, as if to run. 'I can't ... I shouldn't ...' and then he winked at her.

It was a flash of lightening, to a time long past.

Arms holding each other, his hand on the back of her neck, pressing her deeper into a kiss that was slowly turning her inside out. His tongue traced the outline of her lips, coaxing them apart. Her panties were drenched, and lust permeated the air.

His hesitant touch on her arms sent shivers through her entire body. She moaned against his mouth. "Mike..." His name was like a plea from her lips; a whisper of desire. He pulled her in, covering his body with hers, and he didn't need words to tell her what he needed. She could feel it in every tense muscle, in every stroke of his tongue, in every breath he took.

Diane's hands trailed down his arms, across his chest, her fingers feeling the muscles outlined there. Not the perfect physique in anyone else's eyes, but perfect in hers. She wanted him. And his lips along her jaw line, nibbling on her earlobe, well, they told her that he wanted her too.

The thin material of her bra was the only barrier between them. Mike hooked one finger under the right strap, easing it down her arm, his lips trailing a path down her bare shoulder...

She swallowed hard, trying to attempt a graceful way to extract her hand from his grip, when the waitress brought the bill. She almost sighed in relief, as he released her in order to sign the cheque. But before she could put her hands out of reach, she was distracted by the sight of his fingers as they gripped and twisted the pen between them, her nipples hardening under the silk of her bra as the sensation tugged at her memory. She didn't pull her hand back fast enough, and he managed to encase it in both of his this time, continuing the delicious subtle assault on her flesh, and her senses. This time, he cradled her hand, palm up, stroking the center with his gentle touch. Inside, she had no doubt he knew EXACTLY what he was doing.

Di smiled nervously. There was no way his mind was back there too, no possible way he could know what she was thinking, or how she was feeling. There was no way he could know how wet she was, and how desperately she wanted to take him into one of the darkened doorways of the quad, strip him down and suck his cock, feeling the hard, smooth flesh in her mouth once again. Only this time there would be no comfy bed under her knees. Just hard pavement, cold gravel and hot bodies.

She knelt in front of him, unzipping his pants as she set herself at the right level. His cock was hard, and smooth. She couldn't wait to get it in her mouth. She bathed the shaft up and down with her tongue, circling the head with the tip. The hand she wasn't using to balance herself came up to caress his balls, running her nails over them lightly, cupping and rolling them around her palm. She glanced up at him, his head thrown back, eyes closed.....

She smiled, trying to extract herself as gracefully as possible. "Sorry boys, just have to use the ladies room." She stood slowly, raising her chest high, making sure both sets of eyes were on her tits, which were spilling out of the red top she had worn in a happy coincidence, not knowing that she'd wind up at the place where it all started. She swung her hips, hoping that he was watching her ass, and enjoying the view.

Locking herself in the second stall in the small bathroom, she leaned against the door and let out the breath she'd been holding as she walked away. She couldn't believe that one touched had pole axed her that badly. She could tell that her panties were drenched. She shook her head, marvelling at how he was still able to get her so hot so quickly.

She unbuttoned her pants, sliding her hand down the front to her clit. It was standing at attention, begging to be touched. She lightly slid her middle finger over it, biting her lip to keep from moaning out loud. She remembered how soft his hands were holding hers, and imagined that he was touching her, watching her.

She stroked upwards, every nerve ending singing in pleasure, straining for release. Her other hand slipped into her shirt, fingers immediately finding her nipples still hard and peaked. As both hands worked on the sensitive buds, her head thrashed against the wall, the rough concrete creating a contrast with pain, to the pleasure she was bringing herself.

Her knees buckled as she came quick and hard, his name on her lips, cum drenching her hand, and her thong. On shaky legs she zipped up her jeans, cracked open the door to check if she had company, and stepped out of the stall. She washed her hands, noting the flush in her cheeks, the glossed over eyes, and the way her hands shook as she pulled down on the rough paper towels.

She took two deep breaths, and walked out the door. And was caught around the waist by a pair of strong arms, and backed up against the wall. Their foreheads were touching, his breath hot on her already flaming skin. She could tell he caught her scent, as he smiled. "Bad girl." He murmured. "You smell terrific." And with his hand grazing her groin, he let her go and walked into the men's room.

She high tailed it back to the table. John gave her a smirk as she sat down. "Ok, so before he gets back…." She held up her hand. "John, I don't want to know right now." He shrugged, and took the last swig from his pint. Mike walked back to the table. "Well, what did she say?"

John stood, pulling his sweatshirt over his head. "I don't know. She didn't let me talk." She shook her head, slinging him a dirty look under her lashes as she put her jacket on. Mike followed suit, speaking the whole time. "One week from tonight. What are you doing?" Diane shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. "Nothing I guess."

He held the door open for her as she walked through. "Wrong. You're having dinner with us." She grabbed for her cigarettes, needing a nic fix to calm her nerves. John held his lighter open for her and she sucked on the filter long and hard, wishing it was something else. As she exhaled, she glanced over to see him studying her, and felt like she might melt into a sticky puddle of cum and sweat, and lust.

They all chatted for a bit, and then they stubbed out their smokes. As she hugged him goodbye, she couldn't help but hold on, just a little tighter and a little longer than she should have.

"So good to see you." His husky voice dribbled into her ear like a waterfall, the sounds carrying down her spine, causing ripples of longing that were so much more than simple desire, and infinitely more desperate than need.

Di didn't want the time together to end, but she knew that he didn't have much more time off the leash, and they did have to meet the others for dinner. Reluctant to let go, she pulled away, but continued to keep the connection, holding his hand tight. " want to come up and see the lab? It's on your way to where you parked." Mike sounded hopeful.

"Yes!" she practically shouted. "I mean, yeah. Cool. I've known teachers all her life, but never ones that taught above the high school level. And I've never been friends with them." John smirked in her general direction at her babbling and headed off ahead of them, giving them a mere modicum of privacy. She smiled shyly, and followed.

"So, Mike, what is it you teach again?" They had stopped at the light, and he turned to her. "Chemistry." She was impressed that he managed to say it with a straight face, even if his voice did drop to a husky tone, and there was a slight twinkle in his eye.

Walking through the hallways, they were relatively silent. When they stopped in front of a door, he drew his school ID in front of the pad, and pushed the door open. "See, we've got the same stuff as on CSI but no mood lighting." She giggled, but it was mostly out of nervousness. He strolled to the opposite corner and opened another door. "And this...this is my office." She walked in, taking in the plain walls with a quick glance, wanting to push the door closed on John and fulfill her student-professor fantasy. But she had no idea if he even wanted her that way again, or if it was just a tease.

Diane put her arms around him as he leaned against the desk. She touched her forehead to his as his arms drew her close. John pretended to examine the blank walls. "I should go." she whispered. Reluctantly she stepped back, his hands moving to her hips. He nodded.

"Next week though." He looked at her, knowingly. She briefly nodded, acknowledging that she'd be there. And as John and Diane walked away down the hallway, she felt her heart racing.

Next week couldn't come soon enough.