Tag Archives: erotic

The Door in the Wall – A Guest Post By Monique Roffey (@MoniqueRoffey13)

Sexual love can be a gateway to the divine, a common trigger to a full blown mystical experience. So say the mystics and tantrikas. Most of us have experienced moments of utter bliss, a lift into an altered space, after and during sex, in short, we have touched spirit. Many religions believe in this too, including Christianity, that sexual love can be the ‘door in the wall’, or a hidden window onto a spiritual reality. The writer George Feuerstein says that today’s sexual malaise, addiction to porn etc, is a spiritual, not a societal problem. Feuerstein (a scholar and tantrika), says that most crucially, we have lost contact with our bodies. We both deny our body and are pre-occupied it. We distrust our body, and we are ashamed and afraid of it, and there is an absence of ‘true sexuality’ in today’s world. Many of us can ‘perform’ sex without being present. We have a fear of the body, and especially a fear of the feminine, seen in our disrespect for nature/gaia and the way we exploit it. I totally go along with his ideas. He wrote about this in the 90’s and he was ahead of his time, and well ahead of the internet. Today’s world of internet sex often misses this component of sex and spirit. Porn offers hard, quick fix voyeurism; it often only offers us a wilderness.

Years of tantra have informed my views on sex, the way I think about sex and the way I write about it. Scared sex, to me, is sex that sustains me, morally and spiritually. It is the opposite of routine, unfeeling, goal orientated sex, the goal being orgasmic release.  However, you have to practice this kind of sex, and find a partner who practices it too. Tantric sex is the sex of woman worship; it is a woman’s call for intimacy and more intimate relating, sexually. And so, I’ve mostly sought tantric lovers in the last ten years. A bed isn’t just a place to get it on; it’s a place to connect with spirit. I believe it’s important to cultivate an awareness of the spiritual dimension to sex and to know how to lead others to this door in the wall.

I joined a tantric group recently, after years of being on the outside of the tantric world. A lover died, I broke up with another. I needed time away. Rejoining was a good thing to do. Recently, one dimly lit spring evening, I found myself seated yab yum style on a handsome half-naked man, our energies connected and flowing and the kundalini energy rising. It was simple and easy to get there, too. We were entwined, softly, and yet charged with desire and I felt like I was glowing there, lit up like the full-blown frigging Goddess. For a moment this handsome man stopped and chuckled as if reading my thoughts; he gazed deeply into my eyes and whispered welcome back.

My novel, The Tryst, is written from my own POV, as a tantric woman; it is woman-centred, and it is about a call towards intimacy for Jane, towards an awaking of a different life, a new way of being. Jane knows something is wrong with her current life, that there’s more out there, just as I did in my early 40’s. She senses a call to a greater sexual life in the form of numerous fantasies and dream trysts that pester her day and night. The sexual part of her is active in her imagination, only. She wants sex, but just doesn’t know how to break out of her own confines to find the type of sex she needs. It takes another woman, a Kali type Goddess, Lilah, a predator and a sexual connoisseur, to throw her into crisis and to force her to leap, to activate her sexuality Then, there’s healing. Jane finds her scared whore and her full sexual potential, the part of herself was missing. The Tryst is about a woman finding her sexuality, and it doesn’t come easily. There is a fight for it.

*****

The Tryst (Dodo Ink)

Extract

By Monique Roffey

I found Bill still asleep in our bed. He was naked, covered to the waist by a thin sheet. It was dawn, a fragile time of the day. July too, and the sash window was fully open, the curtains not drawn. I hadn’t seen Bill in ten days. Now, I feasted my eyes on him – so vulnerable in sleep. He was half-turned on his side, cradling himself with one arm, his hair had grown decidedly longer and fell about his face and shoulders, and his torso was summer tanned. He was a man in his late 40s and big framed, both muscular and voluptuous, a sight of a man. Gazing down at him there, I came to understand that Bill was a piece of my puzzle too. Just like Lilah, he was part of my solution. A longing for him sprang inside me, warm and reassuring – my husband. I put a hand across my belly and welcomed the sensation, letting it spread slowly, thinking I had needed Bill all along, for part of me to heal.

And now I saw him lying there, I had a choice. I could go, leave him sleeping. Or I could step forward into another life, fully open. On the side table next to him, I saw the small polished egg I’d left behind, a part of me too. A gift, a message I’d never fully understood myself. I took out the stick of chalk I had with me and bent to the ground, drawing a thin white line around our bed, whispering incantations. The sprite had gone but she had left her energy in the room; I could still smell her there, dense earth. I lit a small sprig of sage too and uttered banishments at each corner of the room and when I was done, I sat down carefully on the bed. I had never fought for Bill, let alone protected him or what we had.

Bill’s eyes flickered.

I smiled at him. He groaned and shook his head. His eyes flew open and he stared. His alarm faded when he registered who it was.

“I’m here,” I said.

His eyes opened wider, his long hair fell over his face and he pulled it back. His beard looked stronger too, as though Bill had been quietly growing richer over the last week or so. He didn’t say anything; he just looked at me. He gazed and mouthed the words hello, Jane.

He looked clear-faced and older. The worriedness I’d associated with his features had somehow lifted. I said hello back and moved across the bed and lay myself down next to him, face to face, our bodies aligned and close, not touching. I was clothed. Bill was naked. The sheet separated us. We gazed at each other for several minutes. Sadness swelled in me, a wave of regret and devastation at the loss of him. For those ten days I’d been unable to contact him by phone or email. Lilah had interfered. I had understood some kind of separation had been imposed; it was out of my control. We’d been cursed. I’d wept for days in a hotel room. Tears fell, looking at him. He touched my cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He moved closer and kissed my tears. I felt relaxed, like that tender feeling after a bath. Or maybe my own grief had softened me. I felt older too, and womanly, and forgiving of myself and him. Bill kissed me on the mouth and pulled away the sheet and I reached down to hold him.

I kissed him back and he moved across me, pulling open the buttons of my shirt. Then we were together, in motion, kissing, responsive to each other, tongues searching, words flowing between us. My back arched as he smothered my breasts with kisses and whispers of his own sadness and regret. Both of us uttered our mantras, sorry, sorry for the past. I was wet and soft and half-clothed.

I saw Bill then. Big-boned and full-hipped and sexy. Both of us were somehow sexier for being this age. Had I lost confidence in my body? If so, I seemed to suddenly have it back. Then Bill was on top of me, naked and hard, his cock pressed into my stomach. He peeled off my white lace bra and I showed him that I was a little unsure of my breasts and he said ‘yes’ with his eyes. Had this been part of it? The loss of my younger body, was that also in the mix? Bill peeled down my jeans, taking my panties with them. He sank his mouth between my legs and I gasped, burying one hand in his hair. I laughed and he laughed too and drank. I opened my legs and sighed and opened my eyes and even said the word out loud, “Lilah”.

I could feel her presence in the glossy silkiness between my legs. Bill’s tongue was strong and agile and I writhed with the pleasure he provoked. Then he stopped and looked at me, as if to say, this is only beginning. He pulled my jeans away so that I was naked and yes, my nakedness brought on a feeling of extreme shyness. And at the same time I felt open and full of longing. Then Bill was using his knuckle up and down, up and down on my clitoris, stroking me and dripping his silky serum on to me. My breath quickened and a spasm came from my groin, from his tender loving hands. An orgasm sprang upwards from my centre and swept through me. I’d never known this husband-lover Bill, had never tempted him to me, ever. He laughed and watched my body tremble and then he said “my wife, my wife”, and slowly, oh so slowly, he sank his long hard cock into me.

*****

The Tryst, blurb

By Monique Roffey

London, midsummer night. Jane and Bill meet the mysterious Lilah in a bar. She entrances the couple with half-true, mixed up tales about her life. At closing time, Jane makes an impulsive decision to invite Lilah back to their home. But Jane has made a catastrophic error of judgment, for Lilah is a skilled and ruthless predator, the likes of which few encounter in a lifetime. Isolated and cursed, Jane and Bill are forced to fight for each other, and, in doing so, discover their covert desires.

Part psychological thriller, part contemporary magical realism, The Tryst revisits the tale of Adam’s first wife, Lilith, to examine the secrets of an everyday marriage.

*****

Praise for The Tryst

“What makes The Tryst an unexploded virus isn’t just the quality and brightness of Roffey’s writing on sex, even as it uncovers inner glades between flesh and fantasy where sex resides – but the taunting clarity of why those glades stay covered. A throbbing homewrecker of a tale, too late to call Fifty Shades of Red.”

DBC Pierre, Booker Prize winner

*****

BIOG

Monique Roffey is an award-winning Trinidadian-born writer. Her novels have been translated into five languages and short-listed for major awards including 
the Orange Prize, Costa Fiction Award, Encore Award, Orion Award and the OCM Bocas Award for Caribbean Literature. In 2013, Archipelago won the OCM BOCAS Award for Caribbean Literature. Her memoir, With the Kisses of his Mouth, was published in 2011. She is a Lecturer on the MFA in the Novel at Manchester Metropolitan University. She divides her time between the East end of London and Port of Spain, Trinidad.

Buy at Amazon:

UK: http://amzn.to/2snABX2 US: https://www.amazon.com/Tryst-Monique-Roffey-ebook/dp/B072BX51PV/

Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=esSTfsbP3P4&sns=em

Twitter: @MoniqueRoffey13

Facebook: @MoniqueRoffeyAuthor

Instagram: @MoniqueRoffey

Website: www.moniqueroffey.com

Writing and Music… My Blurred Reality Playlist @MeganSlayer #music #writing #contemporaryromance #romance #dfrkw

I wasn’t sure what to write about today so I thought I’d talk about my contribution to the Dallas Fire and Rescue Kindle World, Blurred Reality. In my novella, my hero is a musician and famous. The other hero? Not so much. To get into the headspace for their story of accidents, a crazy Labrador retriever and crazed fans plus romance… I had to have some tunes of my own to listen to and often. What’d I listen to?

Killpop by Slipknot – I love the sensuality and manicness of this song. It’s sexy, but a little unhinged. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhJh5_6MuCk)

It’s No Good by Depeche Mode – again, it’s sensual and made for getting in the mood to write the love scenes easier. Plus, the video is silly. I watched it as a stress-reliever. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aieEZ950d1I)

Sympathy for the Devil by Motorhead – this song seemed to fit a lot of the music the band Disaster Transport, the hero’s band, would play. I love this version because it’s gritty and Lemmy’s voice fits it so well. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bt4Xx3vX3Lg)

Goodbye Stranger by Supertramp – this song is a tad before my time, but I love it and it fit the story. Every time I heard it, I’d be jazzed to write more. It made those characters talk a ton!! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZsV-rQ23bus)

In a Mist and Singin’ the Blues by Bix Beiderbecke and Frankie Traumbauer – these along with a few other jazz songs inspired the hero’s love of music and his desire to play more than just rollicking music. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Ue9igC7flI)

Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller – another soft, romantic song that inspired the sensual scenes in Blurred Reality. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZuVfmfaNupQ)

I Want You to Want Me by Cheap Trick – it’s a good, fast song that helped write the action scenes. Grin. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJs_L7yq5qE)

I have more on the playlist. Some by Benny Goodman, a few by Duke Ellington, most of the Evans Blue albums and a few Beatles tunes.

I need music to write mostly because I can’t write with silence. It just doesn’t work. What about you? Do you like noise when you work? Or are you a silence kind of person? Let me know. J

Want to know more about Blurred Reality? Check it out!!

Blurred Reality

By Megan Slayer

A Dallas Fire and Rescue Kindle World Story

Contemporary

Novella

M/M, Anal Sex, Masturbation

Cover art by WZDesigns

Edited by Kris Jacen

When the band takes a hiatus, the boys will play…

When Jacen Goodwin’s band, Disaster Transport, crashed in Dallas and ended up at the Nathalia Hotel, he never expected to find his heart’s desire. He wants to stay in his adopted home city, but he loves the roar of the crowd as well as their adoration. Can the star drummer step away from the buzz of fame long enough to grab what he needs with both hands or will the lure of the crowd be too much?

Matt Walker knew from the moment he got involved with Jacen that their relationship was temporary. Jacen’s a celebrity and he holds the position of the sexiest eligible bachelor of the band. Even if Matt saw a future for him and Jacen, the odds aren’t in their favor. But he can hope, right? He’s been head over heels in love with Jacen since the moment they met.

Can these two opposites make a go of their fledgling relationship or will celebrity and the challenges of fame keep them apart?

Available for Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MZB96WU/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Megan Slayer – It’s Always Fun to Squirm
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Sold #NewRelease from Doris (@mamaD8) #TheVampireGames #BDSM @sirenbookstrand

Happy Monday, folks, Doris here. Slightly late this morning, because I woke up to the news that there was another terrorist attack in London. This time on a group of Muslims as they were leaving a Mosque. Words fail me, they really do.

I shall never understand the mentality of terrorists.

There is speculation of this being a revenge attack on Muslims,  and again I have to ask myself. WHY?

How is attacking innocent people going about their daily business going to ever achieve anything?

Anyhoo, onto happier things. The first story in my new series The Vampire Games releases tomorrow.

WOOT!

I have to smile to myself as I’m writing this sitting in front of a fan, and doing my best impression of melting… Wall to wall sunshine out there, so hot, that my fair skin can’t cope with it even with sunblock on, so I’m playing chase the shade.

Just imagine if you were a Vampire? Atlan, the vamp in my story Sold can sustain a small amount of sunlight, but to quote him…

As well fed as he was, burns hurt like the motherfucker.

[Siren Sensations: Erotic Contemporary Consensual BDSM Paranormal Romance, vampires, M/F, HEA]

Evangeline Prewitt has had better days, weeks, and quite possibly months. A rent increase on top of a huge car repair forces her to seek out her boss for financial help. His solution? Enter The Games.

Evie has her doubts about being sold off to the highest bidder—who would want a plump waitress? However, desperate times call for drastic measures. Besides, it’s only sex. What can possibly go wrong?

Atlan St. James seeks out The Games for a little distraction. This three-hundred-year-old vampire is drawn to the delicious human bundle of curves the minute he sees her. Evie will be his, at least for the night. What neither of them counts on is the instant connection between them. After all, sex is easy. Emotions are far more difficult to negotiate.

As far as Atlan is concerned, the only solution is to let his precious angel go.

Evie, however, will not be dictated to.

The game is on.

 

Sold releases tomorrow and is on Pre-order right now at Bookstrand

 

 

Ready for a hawt excerpt?

She gasped and stopped talking when he cupped her pussy through the sodden lace and found her clit at the top of her hood.

“Not God, sweetheart, just your average three-hundred-year-old vamp at your service.” Atlan dropped his voice as she clenched her thighs, and her hips surged downward to seek more pressure from his fingers.

“You’re…oh, please, don’t stop…you’re three hundred? And oooh, I…”

Instead of answering her, Atlan caught her screech of surprise in his mouth as his lips crashed over hers at the same time as he pushed the underwear out of his way and sunk two fingers knuckle-deep into her clenching core. Her internal muscles grasped his digits, and he thrust in and out of her cunt while he kissed her senseless.

Evie didn’t hold back. She flexed her hips and whimpered her need into his mouth while kissing him back with the same fevered urgency he experienced. The buttons on his shirt pinged off in all directions in her haste to get him undressed. Her fingernails scored his skin, and the sweet pain made him lose what little control he had left. Atlan took over, wrenched his lips off hers, and flipped them so that she was underneath him. Having pinned her hands back above her head and secured them with the restraints attached to the headboard, he yanked her downward, so that all her bountiful curves were his for the taking.

Her eyes widened when he divested himself of the rest of his clothing, and he groaned in relief when his dick sprang free. Evie’s corresponding whimper of need and the way her gaze snared on his erection made him even harder.

“Oh. My. God.”

Evie licked her lips, her gaze riveted on the action of his hand as he stroked up and down his length slowly. He tapped her thighs in a quiet command, and when she immediately opened to him, displaying herself, he smiled.

“That’s my good girl. You’re so fucking wet already. Tell me, my angel, how badly do you want my cock?”

He gripped himself harder, ran his thumb through the drops of pre-cum coating his thick head, and used the natural lubrication to work his dick harder. Evie started panting and tried to close her thighs, but he was having none of that. He swatted her pussy once and his girl tensed and groaned.

“Please, I…”

Her reaction made him do it again, and again. Her eyes closed, her head thrashed from side to side, and each well-placed slap brought her closer to release. To see her writhing on the bed, so close to release, so utterly inhibited in her responses, made him ache to be inside her. Atlan gripped the bottom of his shaft hard to stave off his own release, as one last well-placed and much harder swat meant she tumbled over that edge with a scream to bring in the neighbors, had he had any.

Luckily his staff knew better than to intervene, and that was the last conscious thought Atlan had before he ripped off that sodden lace, which prohibited his view of her juicy pussy, buried his face between her thighs, and lapped up her need.

Grasping her luscious ass cheeks, he lifted her up and drank down her arousal. Evie didn’t disappoint as she locked her thighs around his head and rode out the multitude of orgasms he wrung from her. Atlan latched onto her clit and sucked that little hard nub into his mouth while he sank his teeth into her moist flesh. Evie went wild underneath him, the scent and flavor of her life essence mixing in with her cum, as she screamed her release. Atlan released his hold on her clit, licked the wounds closed, and tunneled his tongue into her clenching hole instead, while he took her arousal all the way back between her ass cheeks to that little ring of muscle guarding her other entrance.

He rimmed that tiny hole, as she tensed her hold around him and pulled on the restraints tethering her to the bed. By the time he breached her butt with his tongue, shoved several fingers into her pussy, and fucked her with his fingers, she flew again.

Atlan murmured his encouragement into her perspiration-soaked skin, as he licked a path back up over her quivering belly until he reached the heavy mounds of her breasts. Circling each nipple in turn, he bit down lightly, leaving his teeth marks on the soft tissue. Only when she started to whimper and plead for him to stop, did he align his aching cock with her slick entrance and thrust deep with a groan of his own.

Her quivering cunt muscles closed around him like a hot, wet fist, and Evie gasped. She arched her head back, offered her delicate neck for him to take, and without thinking about anything but the need to make this woman his, he sunk his fangs into her neck while he started to fuck her in earnest.

Evie screamed and shook as her blood filled his mouth and her pussy sucked him in deeper. Harder, faster, he drove into her soft body like a madman, intent only on seeking his own release, satisfied with the knowledge that she met him thrust for thrust, until they came together in a mind-shattering orgasm, which took over every atom of his body, as she convulsed under and around him.

****

That’s all from me today. Enjoy the sunshine and do stay naughty.

 

D xxx