Friday, 10 August 2012
Finished (or finished with) 50 Shades of Grey? Got a taste for BDSM but a preference for couples who really love each other? Then you need Anything For You: erotica for kinky couples, which came out this week!
Edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel, it features stories by ... well, check out the author lineup and read the introduction over here! And I'm in there too, with my outrageous BDSM story Teppanyaki (which is a word I perpetually struggle to spell). It's about Japanese food. It's about a dinner party. It's a about a D/s couple who are going to go whole new places tonight, as they let another couple into their cosy domestic setup. Things get messy. There is melted butter and soy sauce everywhere by the end, I warn you!
So here's an excerpt:
“Oh, you're wet,” I tell her. She turns her face away against her shoulder, her breasts rising in sharp little heaves. “Do you like this, then? Do you like being tied up and made to open your legs so I can touch your pussy? Are you a dirty little girl?”
That's the moment the doorbell rings.
“Right on time,” I say, withdrawing my hand and standing. “Jason's never late.”
Wendy's face is a picture. Her thighs slap together. “Shit! Ade, let me out!”
I lift my fingers to my face, savouring the perfume of her pussy, and grin. “No, I don't think so.”
Her eyes go round. “Ade!”
“What, honey? Are you worried I'm going to bring a work-colleague and his wife in here? That they're going to see you tied to a chair, helpless, with your skirt all rucked up like that? That they're going to know your pussy is all juiced up and ready for it?”
Her makeup is perfect, of course, but I'm delighted to see an explosive flush of pink across her throat and chest and shoulders as the shame flares within her. She makes a valiant, if completely vain, attempt to smooth down her skirt by writhing her thighs, and then pulls forward, tugging against the handcuffs. “Ade!” she cries. “Stop it! You can't!”
Of course, Wendy should know—in fact she does know, when thinking straight—that the sight of her struggling against bonds just puts hot lead in my balls. “Can't?” I ask, rubbing one hand across the hard-on now making its urgent presence felt inside my pants.
Oh, that gets me harder than an iron bar. I stepped in, lifted her chin in my hand and looked into her wide eyes. Tears of terror are welling up there. “Want to beg me?” I whisper harshly
“Please Ade! Oh god, please! I can't—I can't do it! I'll die of shame! Please don't!”
I cock an eyebrow, waiting, my swollen cock pressing up against its own prison as vigorously as Wendy tugs against her cuffs. The first tear leaks over her lashes. She's utterly sincere: she means what she says and I don't doubt that she feels overwhelmed by humiliation.
“What's the magic word?” I ask.
“Please! I'll do anything, Ade, but not this!” Her begging is heartbreakingly beautiful. Her eyes are like pools of torment and I want to fall into them.
“Will you beg me to fuck your ass?” Anal's a practice she retreats from, normally; it offends her over-active sense of cleanliness.
“Yes! Even that! Please!”
That isn't the magic word. I step back. “No,” I say decisively. “I think I prefer this.” Then I walk out. In the doorway I turn back and look at her, giving her one more chance. We have a safeword, of course. But Wendy's pulling wordlessly against the steel bonds, her lips parted as if in agony and her breasts heaving. Utterly fucking beautiful. And mute.
Jason and Maria are waiting patiently at the front door when I open it; I had warned them I might be a few minutes.
“Come in! Let me take those coats.” I usher them into the hallway and kiss Maria on either cheek. This is the first time we've met. She has a sweet smile full of suppressed excitement and barely comes up to Jason's breast pocket. He's all bone and paleness, his skin tight over his sharp cheekbones. She looks in exquisite in a red dress. I think Wendy's going to like them both.
“We've been looking forward to this, Ade.”
Jason and I have worked together a couple of times on different cases. He's sound: a rock solid sort. You can learn a hell of a lot about a guy when you share long surveillance shifts with him.
“Well, we're all ready for you. Wendy's just through in the dining room.”
Jason and Maria swing. Wendy and I don't, because I don't like the idea of some other man fucking my wife. She's mine. And Wendy knows I'm the possessive type and likes it that way; it makes her feel special. So we don't move in Jason and Maria's circles. But there are, I guess you'd say, areas where our interests as couples overlap.
As I lead the way back into the dining room, my heart lifts with pride at the picture presented. Wendy has ceased fighting the cuffs and is sat up very straight with her feet tucked beneath the chair, trying to look as demure as it's possible to do with wrists tied. Her face is averted self-consciously, her lips parted and shiny.
“Maria, Jason, this is Wendy. She's feeling a bit shy at the moment, I'm afraid. Wendy, say hello.”
“Hello,” she whispers. “How lovely to meet you.”
I know how difficult she must be finding this. How impossible it must be for her, in that hot swamp of her embarrassment, to find the right social chit-chat. So I make things easy for her: “Wendy, you're to be silent now. Open your legs.”
She eases her thighs apart. I could explode with pride. Jason is standing with his hands in his pockets, a big grin plastered all over his face. Maria goes forward and stoops, kissing her on the cheek.
“What a lovely outfit, Wendy,” she murmurs. “Ade has told us so much about you.”
Buy at Amazon US : Pre-order at Amazon UK (published September)