Illuminate me. Tell me about sexy men who knit; the rare souls who love yarn with a passion. Enlighten me. I want to hear about a woman who uses silence to convey her desire. Tell me about the bound, struggling girl in a cocoon of soft cloth, and the friends who teach each other how to suck cock. Teach me how time and space spirals from a marker on the ground. I want to know about the wet kiss, bitten lips, groping, moaning, screw till you're sore tales you've written.
Okay then. Since you've asked so nicely...
***
Excerpt from Old London Town
We caught a river boat down the Thames, and we sat in the shade at the back of the vessel as it sped through the water. Mae massaged my sensitive hands, stroking once and then twice whenever she hit a particularly promising spot. I gasped and mouthed soundless groans into the air as she stimulated me. My clitoris begged for attention, my nipples needed to be sucked, and I wanted to kiss every inch of Mae's body.
"Hungry, aren't you," she drawled with a suddenly strong accent. "I think I can take the edge off your appetite before we get home." Mae made a reach for the hem of my skirt, and I suddenly froze, aware of where we were. "Everyone's up top, snapping photos. We're all alone down here," she continued, and before the words were even out of her mouth, she lifted the hem of my frayed denim skirt. I looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was about, but for some strange reason, my vision suddenly blurred. Two of Mae's fingers pressed against the outside of my knickers; she ran them up and down the elastic on each side, murmuring happily, and smiling like the sun whenever I trembled in her grasp. I heard footsteps coming down the staircase that led to the lower deck of the boat, and I tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let me. Public sex always seems like a good idea, until you actually attempt it; I didn't want to perform for a crowd. This country girl was starting to make me look bad. The footsteps I'd previously heard halted, and then retreated back to the upper level. I sighed with relief, and then almost screamed as Mae pinched my clit. Her fingers slipped on my juices, but she still tugged on me, grinning a wide country girl grin as I bucked and shook.
"What do you want, Lesley?" she teased me, purring her silky voice against me. I kissed her, sent the message directly to her mouth, straight down her throat with every press of my lips to hers. Her fingers slowed down, but they pushed harder instead. Old London Town swirled around me, twisting into a thin wavy line that became the river we sailed on. I couldn't see, couldn't breathe … she tweaked my clit in a cruel movement, and I stifled a yell as I came hard. How had she done that? How had this country girl known?
***
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