Kicking Off My Blog Tour!

Hello All!  Always wanted to know what makes me tick? I'm kicking off my blog tour this week with a revealing interview at Romance Reviews Today.  I'll be gracing their blog with my fabulous presence on Thursday, February 3rd, 2011 to dish the dirt about writing, my first book, and my plans for the future. 

If you'd like to host me on your site for my blog tour, please connect with me at indigoskyeinkandart@gmail.com.  Dates are filling up quickly! I am happy to do interviews, free reads and guest blogs to help get the word out.

I'll be hosting giveaways, contests and more right here- stay tuned to Indigo Skye: Ink and Art for all the juicy details!  My first giveaway, sponsored by Eden Fantasys, nets one lucky winner a $25 Eden Fantasys gift card and a free copy of my ebook! 

To enter, simply send an email with the subject line, "Eden Fantasys Giveaway" to indigoskyeinkandart@gmail.com, with your answer to this question: What's the most unusual place you've ever had sex? 

Don't forget to include your contact info so you can collect your winnings!  The winner will be announced on Valentine's Day, and I'll publish the best responses in a special post.  All contestants will receive a free read of my short story, Cherry-Boy!

Sexy Giveaway by Eden Fantasys

To celebrate the release of my first novel, Her Captive Muse, I'm sponsoring a sexy giveaway just for readers!  The lucky winner will receive a $25 gift card from Eden Fantasys and a free copy of my ebook!

To enter, just answer this question in an email: What's the most unusual place you've ever had sex? Please send your replies to me at indigoskyeinkandart (at) gmail.com.  The subject line should read, "Eden Fantasys Giveaway." (Don't forget to include your contact information, email and shipping address.) I'll be announcing the lucky winner on Valentine's Day.

Let's Celebrate!

Pop a Cork and Share Some Bubbly With Me!

This week, I'll be celebrating the release of my first novel, Her Captive Muse, scheduled for a Monday release by Noble Romance.  I'm giving away a $25 gift card to Eden Fantasys to one lucky reader.  You'll also have the chance to win a free copy of Her Captive Muse- a sexy read with a darker edge.  Stay tuned to Indigo Skye: Ink and Art for all the juicy details!

How to Give Great Phone

Find out everything you ever wanted to know about the art of talking dirty.  As a professionally trained phone-sex goddess, I know all the dirty tricks of the trade- and I'm revealing them all at the Noble Authors' Blog today!  I'm sharing an excerpt of my work-in-progress, Dialing with Sticky Fingers: Confessions of a Phone Sex Goddess, for your delectation.

I'm unlocking the vault, and spilling all my trade secrets to help you learn to talk dirty like a pro!  This is one lesson you won't want to miss!

A Poet Returns to the Page- Free Read by Peter Wesley

Peter Wesley is returning to poetry after a long absence. His next work, "Fear of Butterflies, a Redux", is due out in lafe Fall. He lives and works in Chicago.  Visit him online at http://peterwesleysblog.blogspot.com/.

From Fear of Butterflies, Part I: This is Berlin

By Peter Wesley


Love is not a statement of fact, not

a condition of being in place when we should, not

the promise of anything simple when asked, but

not a question at all but where we belong. Love

should ask for nothing in trade, no touch when

no touch must be had, the deepest touch

when we are one in ourselves and each other.

Love is not a game because competition has losers.

Love only knows loss when its gone forever, but

love never really goes, only stands on its head

itself and laughs, for, if love is perfect it knows humor.

Love is the look in the eyes of an animal,

our animal selves reborn in an instant

or for years a fear runs away into everyone's night.

Love gives nothing to those who ask everything,

does not woo for pleasure or the gain of company

that should not be there. Loves askes nothing.

Tells nothing. Receives nothing. Touches nothing.

But does everything even in a second, or hour,

or day, week, year, lifetime.



"Entschuldigen Sie, Bitte. Lesen Sie der Dichter Rilke?"



"Ma'am, I don't speak German. Sorry." He backs away.



"Nein. Nein. Das Buch im seinen Hand. Die

Duineser Elegien von Rilke, ja?"



"This? Yes this is a German poet. But it's in English.

Do you speak English?"



"Ich verstehe Sie nicht. Aber Lesen zu mir das Dichten.

Bitte?"



He couldn't understand her but knew what she wanted.

He read to her of the terrifying angels, Neptune's

trident, not to woo Spring for it does not understand.

He knew she felt the words like the wings of a hummingbird

not seen but always there in motion. Violet streams

engulfed them, became them. She remembered

her first lover, reading Die Sonette an Orpheus

on the Danube, cold Autumn morning the night

filled with full and empty colors.



She would rise to close the window.

He would fall back to himself, saying no.



She would rise above his cot and point down.

He would fall, he'd thought, if he came towards her.



She would rise to meet him, knowing if

he would fall she could catch his touch.



He would rise to meet her, seeing her soft eyes.

She would fall in billowing hair and perfection.



He would rise and drop into her, scared that

she would fall on the floor and disappear.



He would rise to her deeper sight and passions,

she would fall in love for a moment and then



she would turn and rise turn and rise to meet him

he would turn and fall to her depths and caresses



she would turn and rise to explode his terrors

he would turn and fall and explode into hers.



He would turn to feel his heart as it would rise,

she would turn let her tears fall into his eyes.

Fitting It In- A Provocative Guest Post by Victoria Blisse

Indigo Skye: Ink and Art

Welcomes Author Victoria Blisse!

 

Fitting It In


By Victoria Blisse

So what do you think this blog is going to be about?

Really?

Wow, you’ve got dirty minds! I’m going to keep it clean, well relatively clean, I do write erotic romance! When I talk about fitting it in, I mean writing. As with many authors the book writing stuff is not my full time job. I have a lot of other things to do in my day.

I am luckier than some in that I am a housewife which means I am not out of the house for several hours each day, however that doesn’t necessarily mean I have time enough to sit down and use the computer more. I have the house to keep clean, food to cook and of course I need to buy the ingredients that later make the meals and all that kind of stuff.

I have other responsibilities. I’m part of the church council, a school governor, a friend and a wife and mother and all those responsibilities have to fit in with my writing schedule.

So how do I fit it in? Well, with difficulty is the answer to that one. Most days I wake up early, around 5.30am and I come down to my computer and write. Okay, okay, I confess to checking my email first, maybe putting up a twitter tweet and a status at facebook but I do tend to get an hour or two to write in the morning before my daughter and husband wake up. This is generally my only fiction writing time of the day. I just can’t manage it in an evening unless a deadline calls and I have to push myself. So even a very short story can take a few days to a week to write!

Now, as you know, being an author isn’t just about the writing. We’ve got to do all the other stuff too. The blogging, the chatting, the yahoo group visiting and social media using which is generally quite fun but sometimes takes up a lot of time and the *gulps* dreaded editing that just has to be done.

All this takes place in bits and bats throughout the day. Little ten minutes here during the day and maybe a little longer in the evening once the child is in bed. I literally squeeze it in whenever I have a spare second.

Connect with Victoria Blisse Online...

Visit her Author Site for Award Winning Rosy, Raunchy Romance!

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/

Hook up with Victoria on Facebook at-

http://www.facebook.com/victoriablisse

Send a tweet her way...

http://www.twitter.com/victoriablisse

A Note from Victoria: If I don’t answer immediately, please cut me some slack. I am probably busy wearing one of my other hats for a while! So, how many hats do you wear and how do you manage to juggle all the things you need to do in a day? Yes, I am looking for hints and tips! I’d love to see your comments here!

Author Bio:

Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and an award winning erotica writer. She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy.


She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories. Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

"Her Captive Muse" Cover Unveiled!

This morning, I received a very sexy surprise in my inbox- pictures of the cover of my first novel, Her Captive Muse!  I'm pleased to be working with the team at Noble Romance Publishing to release my novel this year.  My cover art was designed by the lovely and talented Fiona Jayde- many thanks for bringing my words to life with these sexy graphics!

How to Write a Sex Scene That Sizzles! A Guest Blog by Sara Fina

Indigo Skye: Ink and Art

Welcomes Author Sara Fina!



Sara Fina writes...

From the moment I became a 20-something my dating life fell apart. In 2009 I started over. I blog my journey. It's real, raw, and sometimes it's R-rated.

A surface-prude, I rarely talk about what goes on after the lights are dimmed. Sex is supposed to be an intimate moment between two people. If sex were meant to be shared with the masses, the masses would be included (ahem, don’t go there). That’s half the reason it’s so erotic, in my opinion. The secrecy of the events and the detailed information shared with a partner that nobody else knows make the moments special. Yes, I like it when your fingers graze my skin there. No, you can try all you want, but I’m not getting turned on when your lips caress me there. Hot, right?

When I started writing my blog, I never dreamed that I’d be dishing sexual endeavors. But as my readership grew and my relationships matured, I knew that I would have to share some details in order to keep eyes returning to my site. After all, while reading about someone else’s life, you want to connect with them on all levels. Life and literature would be boring without lust.

I started small, sharing a first kiss. Readers wanted more. I developed the story. The relationship grew. Naturally, the desire between the characters also grew, so as feelings progressed, so did sexual exploration. I struggled. How do we share those moments and feelings with readers and convey the emotional and physical bliss? The answer is simple, we don’t. Moments of passion are recreated only when you allow yourself to step outside of the actual events that took place, and determine what readers need and want to know.

I’ve developed several rules that help me write sex scenes that appeal to all readers (i.e. If you want a PG rating, I might be too racy. If you want NC-17, I’m too clean. But both will be curious and continue reading, seeking satisfaction, and visualizing themselves in my situation). These rules help me every time I start writing a sex scene:
Rule 1: Know your audience.
If you don’t know who reads your stuff, you’re never going to please them. I continuously email readers who comment on my posts, talk to others on Twitter, and research social networking profiles. In doing this, I know that I have a large group of 20-somethings that read (men and women) and I also have readers in their 30s and 40s. I gear my posts toward the larger crowd, the 20-somethings, because they empathize with the situations. The older group reminisce and live vicariously through my debauchery.
Rule 2: First time sex sells.
Nobody cares about sex that’s been had by the same two people, in the same bed for 15 years. It’s ‘boring’. They want the excitement of the unknown, the build-up, the climax. The moments in between when toes curl and legs tremble. New, passionate, and exciting sells. Old, comfortable, and monotonous does not.
For clarification, some of the best sex I’ve ever had came after learning what made the other person tick. But at that point, it’s all about communication, and readers don’t want to hear about that. They want to relive the moments that turned the internal heat up without much effort. Those are the moments when you’re about to embark on something that has never happened. It’s just a different kind of hot.
Rule 3: Be vague.

Reading is escapism. It’s walking away from daily struggles and indulging in some vicarious life away from work, from conflicts, or from every-day dramas. Getting readers to this point, however, is a bit tricky. In my world, it’s about presenting a situation that they can relate to, that will make their hearts flutter, without giving too much detail. You reach more readers this way.

Unless you’re writing pornography, I don’t think it’s necessary to give a detailed description of a gentleman’s throbbing member. Here is an example:

Jacob watched her walk across the bedroom, wondering if she would disrobe herself or if he’d have the pleasure of removing the remaining articles of clothing Lindsay was wearing. Suddenly, he became more aware of his excitement. Lindsay was also aware. She quickly closed the gap between them and, without taking off her clothes, caressed his throbbing member.

Those two words have become cliche enough that it totally ruins the build up of the rest of the paragraph. Instead, why not try something like this?

Jacob watched her walk across the bedroom, wondering if she would disrobe herself or if he’d have the pleasure of removing the remaining articles of clothing Lindsay was wearing. Suddenly, he became more aware of his excitement. Lindsay was also aware. She quickly closed the gap between them and, without taking off her clothes, satisfied his curiosity and desire.

I didn’t tell you what happened, but you have a pretty good idea. More than likely, your idea is not what another reader thinks about, but you are both in the moment, feeling the sexual tension, satisfied with the description.

Rule 4: Stick to what you know...or your fantasies.
If you haven’t experienced something, it’s unlikely that you’re going to be able to write about it organically. Readers pick up on artificiality. The best way to make a sex scene realistic is to be sure that you’ve participated in similar adventures (whether that means you’ve actually had similar sex or you’ve fantasized about similar situation).
The best writers do research on the time period, the motivation, the addictions, and the problems that might arise in their books. Sex should be treated the same way. If you haven’t experienced it, you should research it. I’m not telling you to go out and bang a stranger. If you have the opportunity to explore something you would like to add to your story line in a safe and loving way, do it. Or go watch a scene and take notes about it. You have options. Just make sure you know what you’re talking about.

Rule 5: Practice.

The only way to get better at anything is by practicing. The more you write, the better you become at the craft. Writing sex scenes is the same. I’m optimistic that mine will get better and better the more I write.

I’m opening the rest of this up to you, the readers. Below you’ll find a brief opening to a sex scene. The ending has been left open. How many different endings can we get? Read it, brainstorm, get your sexy on, and then leave a comment. Here goes:

Sitting across the room, Jacob thought he had made himself clear. Lindsay, however, was showing no sign that she had received any message. Their argument was still fresh on his heart, yet he knew that fighting any longer would be pointless. All Jacob wanted to do was make Lindsay feel the love he had been unable to put into words. He slowly rose to his feet. His piercing blue eyes were unrelenting as he stepped closer her. She watched as he placed his warm hand on the small of her back and, from there, ….

A Note from Indigo Skye: If you liked Sara Fina's sexy story starter and would like to see your conclusion published here on Indigo Skye: Ink and Art, get in touch!  I'm always happy to take a look at new work by up and coming authors!

I invite you to visit Sara Fina's blog, and connect with her online...

Sara Fina's Blog- http://future4fina.com/


Follow her tweets on Twitter at- http://twitter.com/future4fina

Sara Fina's Facebook Fan page- http://www.facebook.com/pages/Future4Fina/158497584167269

 

Fab Femdom Guest Blog By Charlotte Stein

Indigo Skye: Ink and Art

Welcomes Author Charlotte Stein!

Charlotte Stein has published many stories in various erotic anthologies, including Fairytale Lust from Cleis, and Sexy Little Numbers, from Black Lace. Her own collection of short stories, The Things That Make Me Give In, was named one of the best erotic romances of 2009 by Michelle Buonfiglio. She also has novellas and a novel out with Ellora's Cave, Total-E-Bound and Xcite, and lives in West Yorkshire with her husband and their imaginary dog. You can contact her at her blog: The Mighty Charlotte Stein. 

Fake Beard Hairy

By Charlotte Stein

Recently I did a post on my blog about femdom books I like. Mainly because they’re so rare they should be snuffled out by pigs and cost three million pounds a kilo. I also talked about why I like femdom, but I didn’t really get into the biggest reason why. The thing that rings my bells above all others, and brings me back to it time and time again.

Role Reversal

Oh, I love a bit of role reversal. It’s why I’ve always liked the idea of a man in drag, even though I don’t have a specific fetish for men wearing women’s clothing. I just like the idea of a guy who’s not afraid to put on women’s underwear because it somehow accosts his masculinity.

I like a guy who doesn’t care whether people think he’s masculine, or not. Who would happily let his lady friend put lipstick on him and parade him around the living room, because he’s satisfied in his big manly hairiness and doesn’t need anyone to reaffirm it. Quite the opposite. He’s tough enough to let someone challenge it.

And I do love to challenge my characters. I like to challenge myself, to write about men in a way that hardly anyone else does–and do it as realistically and as well as I possibly can. It’s a tough job sometimes, because so often people hate femdom because of how badly it can go wrong. People see the word and think it means some dribbly, weakass guy crying under the boot heel of an Amazonian woman in leather. Which can be hot, I’m sure.

But hotter yet, for me, is the real role reversal stuff. Like scenarios that so often find a heroine in a submissive position – punishment for transgressions, spankings, etc – only, you know. With a guy in the submissive role. Like a recent story I wrote, that had a married couple playing non-consensual role play games.

Though I’m sure you can tell by now who was doing the non-consenting in my warped version of the real world. Yeah, that’s right. I went there. And I’ve been to other places, too, like the gender swapped version of the movie Secretary.

Seriously, how hot would that be? For the one percent of you who like femdom?

I think very hot. I can just picture Maggie Gyllenhaal now, bossing James Spader around. Making him wear that weird restraining arms thing. Spanking him for making typos. Forcing him to jerk off in the men’s room because it’s all just too hot to bear.

Oh yeah, I like that last one especially. I want big, hairy, gorgeous men to jerk off in men’s rooms, because my heroines are wicked wanton wenches who’ve made them do it. Sometimes just with a look. Sometimes with a list of detailed instructions and a helpful picture based manual. I can draw graphs if you’d like me to, mysterious hairy submissive guy. I can even explain to you why I’m sticking fake beards all over your body:
Because that’s how obsessed I am with the hairy element of all of this. He has to be hairy. And he has to like lists and instructions and getting arrested for public obscenity because there were cameras in that men’s room. Who knew?

Apart from my heroine, because she’s a hardass all the way, even if she’s not wearing leather and hasn’t had her make-up done by Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.

Because as much as I like my men burly while they’re busy crawling around on all fours for being a naughty puppy, I like my heroines to be real women. Not some reject from a bad fantasy movie. I like her to be soft and feminine, even if she’s also cruel and hard. Femdom doesn’t mean soulless bitch.

Femdom, for me, is let’s step out of our usual roles, and see what comes up. Yeah, let’s really dig around, and see.



Time to Celebrate!

Pop a Cork

And Lift Your Glass!

Hello, lovelies!  I am thrilled to announce that my novel, Her Captive Muse, will be published by Noble Romance Publishing later this month!  We've set a tentative release date of January 31, 2011, and I'm counting down the hours!  Stay tuned to Indigo Skye: Ink and Art for all the juicy details!

Call for Submissions!

If you are interested in submitting a free read or guest blog to Indigo Skye: Ink and Art, please connect with me!  I am currently seeking erotic fiction and poetry, true confessions, guest bloggage, and interviewees.  For more information, please contact me via email at indigoskyeinkandart (at) gmail.com.  You can also hook up with me on Twitter @indigoinkandart. 

Let's make 2011 the sexiest year yet!

Typing with Sticky Fingers,

Indigo Skye

Erotic Poetry by Reine Amodeo

Indigo Skye: Ink and Art

Welcomes Poet Reine Amodeo

Lust

By Reine Amodeo


Deep in the hours of breathless movement;

I drift to a silence devouring my skin;

Racing up my spine, is a current of fire;

I feel you whisper across my neck,

Though my lust is esoteric, I let you in.

Words blur into pulsations of warmth.

From your lips to my mind, you taste sublime.

Do you feel me calling?

Close your eyes in meditation, my hands explore you in soft sensation;

Can you take it?

In the hours between two worlds. my fingers slip down through the surface.

Right on the edge, exhaling crimson tides, I begin to drip.

Can you feel me pulling?

Are you flowing with me?

Just beyond dreams, outside of reality, I can almost scream.

Move with me;

Entwined in the elements;

Beneath reason;

Under Luna;

Through the ether;

Cum with me.

Sacred energy, break boundaries…

Trace The Muse

By Reine Amodeo



Kiss my mouth, kiss my hands, in the sky we meet again.

There is no promise, there are no vows.

Kneeling down, we melt through the ground.

Feed my mind and blend in my soul,

Entwine in my hair and breathe me whole.

Coil your hands around my body,

Move with me slowly, let me show you;

How I want you.

Kiss my spine, kiss my eyes,

In the sun, we are violet fire.

Hear the echo in your core, let your fingers come explore.

Taste me Muse, pull me in.

Pour yourself over my electric skin.

I want to slide in your senses, let down your defenses.

Like water and rain, you paint my skin.

This is love, not forbidden sin.

In the shadows, when I am alone.

My hands trace places I want you to roam.

Flooding waters rise then fall, I am yours

When you call…

Free (In The Sky)

By Reine Amodeo


Strange days ahead, mind blank, I sit and stare into the depth of the world.

No thoughts plague me or wither my sanctuary.

Complete rotation of the earth gives birth to the new dawn.

My money is gone, my needs are none.

Long since time has hung suspended like this, nothing is missed or unfolded.

Torn down to shreds, my ego left in the ashes.

Stripped to the bone, bare and alone I have no fears.

What brought me here?

There is no line between birth and death.

Immortal is our incarnate breath, the body is sentient.

Two spheres entwined, one holds the energy, one holds the light.

Many lives it takes to understand, the duality of woman and man.

Reine's Blog:
http://reinem.wordpress.com/


Twitter:
http://twitter.com/ReineM

Author's Notes: Reine Amodeo is a Poet/singer/songwriter who takes energies and lessons and transform them into poetry. She grew up on Long Island, N.Y. After becoming homeless with three kids, she began to share her life lessons in a blog and book to inspire others to shine and keep going through all the trials to see the blessings.

Reine Writes: "My Book is called Soul Words and all the proceeds go to Make A Wish Foundation. I have been very lucky to also have a very gifted musician turn my poems into music. He is a very well known indie artists Sean T Wright and we called the project Seahorse Echo.  Today I live on the South Shore of Long Island at the seaside, and am working on a few more projects online and another book to come!"

Hot New Free Read by Dirk Deeper

Notes from Under the Desk: One Hot Summer, Part I

By Dirk Deeper

My sexual awakening started when I was sixteen. I attended summer camp that year, and I loved watching my friend in the boys’ shower room. Matthew was everything I wasn’t- tall and broad-shouldered, with a narrow waist and arms to die for. My eyes strayed to his cock so often that the only image in my mind was of his member. When we went swimming or canoeing down at the lake and his trunks drew up against his groin, my heart raced.

My crush on Matthew was intense, but when I met our counselor Miss Jean, I fell in love. She was taller than I was which sent my submissive nature into overdrive. She was leggy and favored short shorts that showed off her tan legs. Jean ran cross country at her college, giving her a perfect runner’s build. While she was out of her room, I was a curious and naughty boy and was trying to look at her under things. Instead I discovered her dog eared Playgirls. The pictures of the nude men awoke something I already felt inside me. I enjoyed looking at erections. I was fascinated as I looked at close up photographs of a male going from flaccid to full mast. I soon began visiting Miss Jean’s room and looking at the nude models there for my visual sensation. I became extremely excited by the pictures. More often than not their manhood was held in the hands of a beautiful woman who was fully clothed. The control and power displayed in those pictures left me breathless.

One night, after an all- day canoeing trip, we returned to camp just in time to get cleaned up for dinner. My friend and I grabbed our shower gear and headed towards the boys’ showers as the girls walked beside us. They were so feminine and so superior to me. I was in a constant state of arousal. The girls were so wonderful-their swim suits left nothing to the imagination. It was as if they picked out their suits just to tease us. We soon parted ways and went into our own shower room.

I undressed first and was in the shower with the warm water caressing me. My friend walked into the showers. I looked at his penis hanging between his legs. My cock grew to full erection so suddenly it actually hurt I had been watching it sway as he walked- then I realized he had stopped and was talking to me. He reached towards my erection with his hand. I was desperately afraid. I wanted to run, but I wanted him to touch me there. My heart felt as if it were about to explode as his large hand grasped my shaft. Gasping, I orgasmed in his hand. My penis kept spurting as I moaned. Matthew slid his hand up and down my length until I thought I would lose my mind.

I stood there panting as if I’d sprinted the length of a football field. I watched as his uncircumcised prick began to swell.. Curious about his foreskin, I watched it slide back as his cock grew and pointed towards the sky. He put both hands on my shoulders and our penises touched. I felt as if the blood would rupture my aching shaft. My penis looked pink and delicate compared to his-mine clearly belonging to a boy, his every inch a man’s. Our shafts rubbed together in tune with the beating of our hearts .

I became aware of a gradual increase of pressure on my shoulders, pushing my face down closer to his beautiful penis. My mouth watered just looking at his shaft. It felt effortless. I wanted to see its beauty even closer. I knew I wanted it inside my mouth. There was no conflict of right or wrong, just a feeling of wanting to be closer to his gorgeous weapon. As my knees hit the floor my hands came up to hold is rigid flesh. I noticed he was much bigger than me down there. I rolled his foreskin toward me and kissed it, then began using my tongue to push the delicate skin away. I could feel the head of his manhood on my tongue. His hands were laced at the back of my head. Matthew forcefully thrust himself into my mouth. I gagged - it was difficult to breathe. He pulled back and then thrust himself deep into my throat, making my eyes water. He forced me to swallow his length again and yet again. Glancing up I saw a wild look in his eyes. I felt myself melt into him and my body relaxed. He roughly fucked my mouth with his beautiful penis. I saw need in his eyes-I witnessed aggression, too-but I also saw Matthew was begging me to put him out of his misery. There was a pleading look in his eyes- he knew I held the power to release him from himself.

He sensed the moment and his need increased exponentially. Matthew thrust his penis so deep into my throat I couldn’t breathe. In the same instant, I saw him surrender as his shaft continued to pulse- as if he had emptied his very soul into my mouth. I choked and tried to push him away. Matthew was much too strong for me, and he held himself in my mouth while his passion flowed in waves of sticky liquid. He filled my mouth so completely, I could not swallow it all.

He pulled back once. I gasped loudly. I felt as if I was drowning. Matthew quickly thrust again. His eyes were closed. As he pulsed and spurted in my mouth I saw Miss Jean looking right into my eyes …

To Be Continued...



Trippin' the Light Fantastic, An Erotic Story by Rebecca Bond

Author Rebecca Bond

Offers Up a Fabulous Free Read

Penned Exclusively for Indigo Skye: Ink and Art! 

She wasn’t afraid of the night, never had been. The shadows of darkness had never disturbed her. So now, crouching behind the large tombstone in the village graveyard, a wry smile graced her lips as she thought of the hours that were to come. Hours of pleasure. Hours of pain. Hours of soul-enhancing, hedonistic goodness.

She felt her pussy lips part as she squatted close to the ground, hiding herself from view until the last of the crowd had dispersed. The vision of the night’s impending games caused moisture to pool at her centre and her clit to throb against the silk fabric of her panties. How had it come to this? She thought wryly, that I have to sneak around in the dead of night to seek the pleasure I so desperately need.

A hand clasped tightly around her arm, jerking her head away from the crowd ahead.

“You ready?” the voice whispered quietly into the night.

What a question, was she ready? No, she didn’t think she was, but she would carry on regardless and accompany the man through the churchyard and into the field it backed on to.

“Where are we going?” she asked, panting as she hurried to keep up with his strides.

He glanced over his shoulder, a sinister grin appearing on his face as he stared into wide eyes, “you’ll see.”

And see she did, her breath whisked from her chest as she was led through a large door and into an old, majestic building. She inhaled deeply, regaining composure and drinking in the sights and sounds and scents that greeted her. Everywhere she looked there were bodies; luscious ladies with long, lithe limbs that shimmered with baby oil, strong, chiselled men with statuesque physiques tending to whomever they were closest to.

Christ! She thought as she felt her pussy blossom between her thighs, the sheer amount of nakedness displayed in front of her enticing more juice to spill from her pout, now heavy with desire within the confines of her underwear.

“Like what you see Jessie?” he crooned into her neck as his lips descended upon that tender spot behind her ear and began to suck.

“Mmmmm,” was all she could manage as she felt his lips suck harder, his teeth sinking into her flesh and his hands skimming her slender form to settle on her waist, his fingers digging into the flesh, marking, bruising.

Feeling herself being urged forward by the man only known to her as The Host, a tremor of apprehension raced through her veins. But she kept on walking, her eyes darting in every direction as she ventured further and further into the unknown.

He led her through the throngs of people in the entrance room, down the corridors, winding their way through passageways until finally she found herself at a small, wooden door.

“Go on Jessie,” his instructed from behind her, “open the door.”

Stalling only for a moment, Jessie raised her hand and lifted the heavy iron bolt from its lock, pushing the door open and walking gingerly over the threshold. She glanced around the room, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness and taking in the sights that she was met with. In the centre of the room sat the bed she had described in her note, the large piece of furniture covered with pillows and cushions, a softness in contrast to the thick leather restraints that were bolted to each of its four corners.

To the right of the bed was a small mahogany table upon which stood an array of toys, candles, lubes and some rather scary looking implements. Tools of torture, she thought with a nervous smirk. Looking to the left of the bed she saw the rail containing the garments she had described, rows of delectable corsets, harsh and unforgiving in their design, panties and skirts, tights and stockings...shoes. Hundreds of them covered the stone floor in rows, each pair higher, deadlier and kinkier than the last.

Jessie’s pussy hummed at the sight, a quiver building deep within her cunt as she revelled in all the fantasy and its sensual, sexy, kinky splendour. Turning to The Host she spoke tentatively, “what happens now?”

He chuckled.

“You know what happens now, this is your fantasy.”

Indeed it was. Her fantasy. Just how she had imagined it day after day, night after night as she teased herself to climax after earth-shattering climax. All that was missing was the main ingredient. Her lover.

“Enjoy your night Jessie,” The Host spoke into her back before heading out of the room, leaving her standing alone.

Jumping as the heavy door slammed shut and the bolt slid back into place, locking her inside, Jessie scanned the room, looking for anything she may have missed upon first inspection. Yes, there, kneeling in the far corner of the room, with her head bowed and her hands cuffed, was her playmate.

Making her way slowly across the room, Jessie felt her nipples harden beneath the cotton of her white tee, wishing they were already free from their confines to dance in the cold, damp air.

“Look at me,” she commanded softly as she stood in front of her subject.

The face that greeted her took her breath away, a beautiful face of youthful woman with large, moss-green eyes, thick dark hair, and plump pouty lips. The woman had a shy smile upon her face giving off an air of vulnerability, just what Jessie liked. Vulnerable sex. Shy, loving, sensual, experimental sex.

This was, after all, a first for her, never having been with a woman before. Never before had she sampled the delights of same-sex relations, or anything vaguely kinky for that matter. But here, now, locked away in the dark dungeon with all these toys and a willing playmate, Jessie was determined to sample all that was on offer.

“Stand for me sweetheart,” she instructed the young woman, still bowed at her feet on bended knee.

Now standing in front of her Jessie was able to truly appreciate the accuracy of her fantasy request. She had asked for a younger woman, aged between 20 and 30. Reaching out she skimmed her fingers over her playmate’s chest lightly, she must be about 26, thought Jessie. Twenty-six to my thirty-five. Perfect.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” She asked softly.

“Alexis,” her playmate answered as she looked up expectantly, her eyes wide and glossy with excitement.

Jessie chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully, “what brings you here?”

Alexis blinked quickly and bowed her head, her gaze dropping to the floor, “it’s my fantasy,” she stated simply.

Confusion rippled throughout Jessie’s mind, wasn’t this her fantasy after all...to have a young playmate, someone she could experiment with, a nice little lady she could command and instruct and dominate to her heart’s content.

She gripped Alexis’ chin firmly, pulling her face up to hers, “what is? What’s your fantasy?”

“To be with another woman, to submit control, to be told what to do and how to do it...I, er...I”

“Shhh, now sweetheart,” she crooned as she sensed the younger woman’s distress, “tonight is about us, you giving me what I want and me giving you what you want.”

Alexis nodded mutely, looking up at Jessie and raising a cuffed hand to her face, rubbing the spongy pad of her finger across her lips, dipping a finger inside her hot, wet mouth as lips parted and granted entry. Jessie suckled on the roaming digit before nipping her firmly.

“Did I say you could touch me?” she barked, finding it easy to jump into character.

“No Ma’am,” Alexis apologised quietly, “I’m sorry.”

A smirk crossed Jessie’s face at how easy all this was.

“No bother sweetheart,” she said as she ran a hand across Alexis’ cheek, over her lips and down to her already naked chest.

Grazing her hands over the smooth swell of her breast, Jessie watched in wonder as her nipples, the already swollen buds of rosy-pink lushness, grew harder under her touch. She pinched firmly, one tight little peak and then the next, enticing delightful little whimpers from the younger woman’s throat.

God, Jessie thought as she looked on, her throat...the long slender column of her neck, milky white skin that led to beautifully chiselled shoulders.

Jessie sighed deeply, her hand leaving Alexis’ breast and sliding up to encase her throat, squeezing ever so slightly, just enough to let her playmate know who’s in charge, but not enough to inflict any real pain or danger.

“You are beautiful sweetheart,” she moaned against her lips, “and tonight I want to experience every inch of you.”

It sounded corny, clichéd, but she wanted nothing more than to slam Alexis down on the floor and bury her face in her juicy, smooth snatch. Instead, she pulled Alexis close, fusing their lips together in a long-anticipated kiss. A strong kiss, a demanding kiss, a battle of tongue against tongue.

Pulling away Jessie eyed her lover carefully, “don’t forget your place within this fantasy sweetheart.”

“Sorry Ma’am,” Alexis replied for her second indiscretion of the evening, her pout growing more and more dewy at the thought of impending punishment.

Walking to the rail containing the clothes of choice, Jessie barked another order, “come here sweetheart, help me out of these clothes and into more...suitable attire.”

Fifteen minutes later Jessie found herself standing over Alexis, dressed in the tightest of corsets, her ample bust spilling over the top and the bones nicking in at her waist, accentuating the womanly curves of her perfectly formed arse. Looking up expectantly, Alexis felt the familiar tingle within her pussy as she squirmed against the restraints. Bound at the wrists and ankles, she could do nothing more than buck her hips eagerly at the onslaught of sensation Jessie evoked by her devilish handiwork.

Her milky porcelain skin was now dotted with red candle wax, sure to leave lasting marks as a reminder of their initial burn. The bright red lipstick she’d worn now smeared its way across her face, kissed out of place by Jessie’s enthusiastic lips. Her pussy, bare and begging, was now coated with her juicy slick...asking to be fucked. Hard.

Yes, Jessie thought as she gazed upon the naked form of her young playmate writhing on the bed below, this was most definitely going to be a night to remember.

 
Author's Notes:
 
I recently had the pleasure of interviewing Miss Rebecca Bond.  Missed the interview?  No worries- you can read the interview and check out her author profile here.  For more of Rebecca's erotic musings, check out these other fantastic free reads: Beautiful Nightmare and Snowed In.

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