Are you only happy when it rains? Sad tales of desire occur to me more than I wanted people to know; much more than seemed fitting for a happy-go-lucky creator of erotic fiction. Be aware, there are more than kisses and flowers when it comes to lust. There are pierced hearts, wilting roses, and the ever present drip-drops of tears.
In Dancing in the dark, a woman hits rock bottom, only to discover that there are lovers
waiting for her down there. My mother's voice tells of a survivor of physical and mental abuse
as she starts her recovery with sexual healing. In the paranormal story, Pieces of me, the
central character is confined to her bed through illness, but that doesn't stop her from
having a wild time with multiple partners. Boys next door tells of a ‘standard Welsh loser'
whose first taste of sex drives him to an uncertain end. British Summertime is told moments
before a flood hits. Finally Muscle Memory sees a woman who is fearful of losing her
memories of past sexual exploits.
It is my desire that you find hope amongst these sad tales; that you are able to treasure
all you have, and all that makes your life special. Especially the sex.
****
An excerpt from Dancing in the dark
I didn't switch on the lights when I ushered the men indoors. I just shuffled out of my
coat, and continued to dance with them in the shadows of my room.
Ted held me from behind, wrapping long elegant fingers around my wrist. I could feel
his hard on pressing against my ass, an insistent knock at the door. Nathan cupped my
face; traced the outline of my features in the dark. I fingered the short bristly growth of his
hair, smooth like suede. I wanted to feel it rubbing over my breasts.
Ted laid his face against my shoulder, and he licked along from my bra strap to my neck.
I shuddered as he gently devoured me. I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world.
A mere two hours ago I had been ready to say goodbye to everything and everyone I had
known, but right there and then, I was grateful to be alive, thankful to have two amazing
men in my arms.
But then, just like that, the cold light of reality intruded in on us. Nathan fumbled in the
gloom, and he flicked on my bedroom light. I stood beneath the bright yellow bulb, aware
of what the two men must be seeing.
“What happened to your room?” Ted asked in a shocked tone. “Where's all your stuff?
Where the hell is your bed?”
I felt the blood rush to my face, feeling ashamed at the situation.
“I was going away,” I mumbled weakly. “I didn't intend on coming back.”
I saw realisation in both their eyes as I spoke, and then I saw a softness replace that.
They drew me to them once more. Nathan kissed me; a ferocious kiss that made my head
reel with pleasure overload. He angled my face to gain better access to me, and he branded
me with his lips, marking me so that I would never forget it. Ted twisted me about, even as
I thought that I would die from Nathan's kiss, only to consume me with one of his own.
“Stay with us,” Nathan's voice was almost drowned out by my moans. “Don't go.” He
switched off the light.
Ted pulled me down to the floor, and we tumbled in our embrace, only ending when I
sat astride him. Nathan knelt behind Ted, and held his hands, restraining him as he gyrated
beneath me.
“I can't believe you got rid of your bed,” Ted complained, and pushed his bulging
erection against me. My body responded with a language of its own, as I unzipped Ted,
and swallowed his dick in a single urgent gulp. Ted's hips rocked beneath me as I sucked
him. This was permanence, I thought as I wrapped my lips around his shaft. This was
where I should be. I looked up to see Nathan holding Ted's hands, but now he was using
them to rub against his own hardness.
Nathan eased himself away from Ted reluctantly, but in a flash he was behind me, with
his hot torso against my back. At first it felt like we were doing the conga, but as I felt him
press fingers into me, I knew this was no ordinary dance. He threw a foil wrapper onto the
floor. I gasped as I realised what was going to happen. Fingers twisted into me, and I
writhed against them. A thicker blunter press came next, and this time, my dance partners
helped me out when it became too much. I lay atop Ted, as he held me in a clinch. We
could be dancing the tango from our pose, with my ass jutting out, and various legs angled
all over the place. Nathan grunted as he surged inside me; halfway in he paused, but I
pushed myself back onto him, flush with my other dance partner.
We moved as a threesome, dancing in the dark, making our own crazy music. The
cheap carpet on the floor was unforgiving; the next day we all had friction burns on various
bits of our body, but I felt alive. I felt so good that I didn't care.
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© Copyright 2007-2011 Jacqueline Applebee