Sexy Snippets for December

by | December 19, 2014 | Sexy Snippets | 15 comments

May I interrupt your shopping, cooking and other holiday preparations for a moment? Just in case you’ve forgotten, today is the 19th
of December. In other words, it’s Sexy Snippets Day!

The ERWA blog is not primarily
intended for author promotion. However, we’ve decided we should give
our author/members an occasional opportunity to expose themselves (so
to speak) to the reading public. Hence, we have declared the 19th of every month at the Erotica Readers and Writers Association blog Sexy Snippet Day.

On Sexy Snippet day, any author can post a tiny excerpt (200 words or less) in a comment on the day’s post. Include the title from with the snippet was extracted, your name or pseudonym, and one buy link, if you’d like.

Feel free to share this with erotic author friends. It’s an open invitation!

follow the rules. If your excerpt is more than 200 words or
includes more than one link, I’ll remove your comment and prohibit
you from participating in further Sexy Snippet days. I’ll say no more!

you’ve posted your snippet, feel free to share the post as a whole
to Facebook, Twitter, or wherever else you think your readers hang

Have fun!

~ Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai

Sex and writing. I think I've always been fascinated by both. Freud was right. I definitely remember feelings that I now recognize as sexual, long before I reached puberty. I was horny before I knew what that meant. My teens and twenties I spent in a hormone-induced haze, perpetually "in love" with someone (sometimes more than one someone). I still recall the moment of enlightenment, in high school, when I realized that I could say "yes" to sexual exploration, even though society told me to say no. Despite being a shy egghead with world-class myopia who thought she was fat, I had managed to accumulate a pretty wide range of sexual experience by the time I got married. And I'm happy to report that, thanks to my husband's open mind and naughty imagination, my sexual adventures didn't end at that point! Meanwhile, I was born writing. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, though according to family apocrypha, I was talking at six months. Certainly, I started writing as soon as I learned how to form the letters. I penned my first poem when I was seven. While I was in elementary school I wrote more poetry, stories, at least two plays (one about the Beatles and one about the Goldwater-Johnson presidential contest, believe it or not), and a survival manual for Martians (really). I continued to write my way through high school, college, and grad school, mostly angst-ridden poems about love and desire, although I also remember working on a ghost story/romance novel (wish I could find that now). I've written song lyrics, meeting minutes, marketing copy, software manuals, research reports, a cookbook, a self-help book, and a five hundred page dissertation. For years, I wrote erotic stories and kinky fantasies for myself and for lovers' entertainment. I never considered trying to publish my work until I picked up a copy of Portia da Costa's Black Lace classic Gemini Heat while sojourning in Istanbul. My first reaction was "Wow!". It was possibly the most arousing thing I'd ever read, intelligent, articulate, diverse and wonderfully transgressive. My second reaction was, "I'll bet I could write a book like that." I wrote the first three chapters of Raw Silk and submitted a proposal to Black Lace, almost on a lark. I was astonished when they accepted it. The book was published in April 1999, and all at once, I was an official erotic author. A lot has changed since my Black Lace days. But I still get a thrill from writing erotica. It's a never-ending challenge, trying to capture the emotional complexities of a sexual encounter. I'm far less interested in what happens to my characters' bodies than in what goes on in their heads.


  1. Ashe Barker

    I head for the stairs, loosening the button on my skirt as I go. By the time I reach the top I’m only wearing my knickers. I hook my thumbs into the waistband and would lose them too but I’m grabbed from behind and lifted from the floor. Ewan carries me along the landing to his bedroom and marches inside with me in his arms. He drops me on the bed and throws himself down next to me.
    “Now lose the pants and spread your legs.”
    “What? No foreplay?”
    He grins. “Some say it’s over-rated, but since you seem so keen…” He rolls on top of me, then slithers down the bed until his chin is level with my stomach. He dips his tongue into my navel, swirling it around. It tickles and I arch under him.
    “Keep still.”
    “Or else what? Will you tie me up?” Oh. My. God. It’s one thing saying that to Ed, quite another when I’m about to be fucked by an experienced, accomplished dom who probably ties women to his bed as a matter of course.
    Ewan eyes me, from somewhere down by my lower belly now. “Not on this occasion. But soon.”

    199 words from Faith by Ashe Barker

  2. Lisabet Sarai

    They remained motionless, eyes locked, for long seconds. Daisy licked her lips and spread her thighs wider. “Don’t you want me, Ian?” She gave him a mischievous grin. “The last chance I had to shower was yesterday morning, at the Y – do I smell bad?

    “You smell delicious,” he replied, completely sincere. “But…”

    “But what? It’s Christmas Eve. Let’s celebrate, while we can.”

    His cock screamed to plunge into the rosy channel she so proudly displayed. Like the lingering ache in his head, he pushed that desire into the background. Instead, he rolled onto his knees and lowered his face toward the golden fleece guarding her treasures.

    Her scent was stronger here, ripe and humid. He bent closer. She gasped as he parted her folds and ran the balls of his thumbs along the smooth, slick inner surfaces. She moaned when he directed a stream of air onto her clit, which peeked out at the apex of her sex. When he swept the flat of his tongue over that plump, pink nub, she fisted his hair and forced his face into her pussy.

    184 words from Slush: A Holiday Romance by Lisabet Sarai

    • Spencer Dryden

      Loved this story. Hope it will sell well so you will be inspired to write more vanilla M/F

  3. Lucee Lovett

    I felt surprised, yet flattered. How was it, I’d never noticed this Italian God before? Maybe I had and pretended not to. Otherwise, why am I here, minus my wedding band and ID? I asked myself. My body reacted to him sliding his hand up my leg until it reached my sweet spot. I sighed and fell backwards onto the sofa. His fingers traced the damp patch on the crotch of my panties and along my slit. All thoughts of being married, of Jeff, temporarily forgotten as I basked in the sensation running thorough my body.
    My legs voluntarily separated to allow better access. I heard his sharp intake of air as his breathing became unsteady. “Mia Dio, la tua bellezza…” he whispered, pulling one of my legs onto his lap. He lowered his head to my knee and began kissing his way up my leg. The citrus scent of his aftershave and the pounding of my heart intoxicated me. A sense of euphoria crept up at me. I became giddy with the possibility of my snatch receiving special treatment twice, and by two different men in less than twenty-four hours

    191 words from 'A Question of Size' by Lucee Lovett

    • Spencer Dryden

      This is really hot. Where have you been hiding lately?

  4. Spencer Dryden

    It was more than the combination of fear and hope in her eyes. I see that all the time as a heating and cooling technician. It was something else. Something erotic that made my cock stir as I stepped into her chilly townhome. My cock was buried under three layers of warm clothing—it was twenty-four cock-shrinking degrees below zero outside—but there had always been a path from eyes to cock. Usually it was a luscious pair of breasts poring from a peek-a-boob shirt, or a firm, round ass that flashed the go code from eyes to groin. All fair-weather sightings. She was so deeply layered in mismatched clothing there was no sign of her sexuality, except for her sparkling blue eyes that quickly changed from fearful to full of mirth and a hint of lust. They were stroking my dick.

    142 Words from "Then One Frozen Christmas Eve" by Spencer Dryden

  5. C. A. Szarek

    On a groan, she went to him, her breasts pushing into his chest even before she stretched to wrap her arms around his neck.
    He deepened the kiss, rubbing his tongue against hers. Nate pulled her closer, squeezing her ass with both hands and rocking his pelvis against her. He was already hard, his erection evident, and Lee’s sex throbbed in response.
    God, it’s been too long.
    She moaned and kissed him harder. Lee rocked her hips into him, wanting him to know she wanted him as much as she ever had. Wanted him to read her mind. Know she was sorry for more than just snapping at him about things he didn’t know.
    Lee cared about Nate.
    Wait. No.
    You can’t.
    She put her hand to his chest and shoved. “No, Nate. I’m not doing this.” Lee panted, her whole body a live wire for him. He still lit her up from the inside out.
    With one kiss. Made her feel more than any man ever had.
    Kissing him was the same— No, it was better. Desire unfurled low and hot, and she struggled to breathe. To forget. Fought the urge to move back to him and let him take her mouth again.
    “Why?” Nate put his hand on the wall as if he needed to steady himself. His chest heaved as he sucked in air. His cheeks were flushed and his mouth open.
    She shivered when his tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip. Lee swallowed hard. She shook her head. “Just…not going there.”



  6. Kay Brandt

    This snippet is from the first chapter of The World of Cherry by Kay Brandt:

    Only a special and specific type of woman do I hire. I look for women who have substance—a story to tell—and not just with their beautiful bodies, but also with their intelligence. Women desire women who can pleasure their minds as well as their pussies, and the girls I recruit need to be the best at both. They must also present themselves in a professional manner and be willing to do whatever the job entails. I never try to hide my own desires either—I let every new hire know they must service me first. Their skills have to be assessed before I place them in my company and like any other business owner would, I take it upon myself to be the judge of how qualified they are. Some are utterly gifted, and they naturally become the most requested items on the menu in my stable. The Cherry Club, a private oasis for the most discerning ladies who want their affairs with other women to be totally discreet as well as deeply, romantically, wonderfully sexy, is my namesake—my baby. For the past three years I've run my operation from very secret locations. Not one soul, outside of my dedicated personal assistant, Dusty, and the paying members, know where the club will be located until the day of their visits, as the venue moves and changes as needed, and that is how it must stay, no exceptions. I've learned far too well how dangerous it is to expose yourself, even to those you think you can trust. Losing the Cherry Club would be devastating—it is my life's blood, the reason I'm alive and without it I would lose my mind. Within the club, my members are completely free to be who they truly are.

    And so am I.

    Dive deep into the private realm of a billionaire lesbian madam, and come inside her exclusive all-women sex club. It's a world where sexual fantasies are unleashed and women are free to be fully sexual creatures, indulging in pleasures of the flesh.


    Have a lusty New Year

  7. Ian Smith

    I wriggled my tongue about within her open lips, then over her pussy. “You know that thing about a light touch on your clit?”

    “Uh-huh?” she said.

    “You mean like this?”

    I did my best to touch her little button as gently as I could, lapping near it and then just teasing her with a direct touch. Every time I touched it, she gasped slightly.

    She leaned down so her head was on the pillows. “You learn too fast,” she mumbled.

    “Still just starting with you,” I said. I returned to her entrance and pushed my tongue as deep inside her as I could, wriggling it around.
    Then I pulled back and moved my knees between hers, placed the tip of my cock against her entrance and pushed into her. She felt hot, wet and welcoming. She bore back onto me and I was fully inside her. I gripped her hipbones and started fucking her. I made slow, steady thrusts, rocking her forward each time I slid home, my tummy making a gentle slap against her backside.

    “Oh fuck,” she breathed. “That is just evil.”

    “Sinful as well?”

    “Borderline depraved. Just don’t stop anytime soon.”

    Excerpt from a short story of mine called Interrupted Service", which was included in the anthology "Elemental Desires"

    Amazon –

  8. Sayara St. Clair

    It was as if all the light had been extinguished from her gorgeous, expressive eyes. Christ, she looked—broken. After everything that had happened to her, after all the pain and misery he had inflicted, finally he had broken her.
    And for some reason, it was nothing he could savor.
    Ivan walked over to the bed on shaky legs, suddenly feeling weak. The tight feeling in his chest was like a fist squeezing his heart. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Right where she’d been not long ago, facedown, ass up in the air, hands tied behind her as he fucked her—hard—until he came like a fucking freight train. And she didn’t.
    God, how long had it been since he let her come? Three weeks? Four? Yes, four weeks.
    He loved keeping her like that, squirming and desperate. Teasing her, bringing her to the brink and denying her—over and over and over. And she, his strong, brave girl, would beg. That was the one thing she would beg for. Beg and cry for his permission to come.
    And he wouldn’t let her.
    It was a beautiful thing.

    191 words from Hurt Me, Heal Me by Sayara St. Clair

  9. Sarah Martinez

    I stroked the hair at his temple and he said, “Do that again?”
    “If you say it like that I’ll do it all night.” I rose up, squeezed him and slid down, inciting a satisfactory noise from deep in his throat. “I’d do anything, just don’t stop using that tone.”
    “No problem.” A soft genuine smile took over his whole face. His eyes locked on the area where our bodies joined, and the look of fascination on his face made me giddy. Moments later, he got quiet, and his face showed a vulnerable open patience. I simply wanted to hold him inside. I lowered my chest to him until we were skin to skin, and worked my hips back and forth, moving my face farther into the damp space behind his ear. I imagined working myself into the cave of his secret place, a wonderful place where things didn’t have to be light or loud to be happy. His arms came around me, tight, so that it was work to leverage my hips against him, but the struggle made it all the more exciting.

    184 words from Sex and Death in the American Novel by Sarah Martinez (Booktrope 2012)

  10. Daddy X

    I’d worn my ankle-length gray trench coat, the cinched one, slit in back up to my waist. Nobody could tell I hadn’t worn anything at all underneath. As I held the umbrella at my chest, his chilly wet hands had free access to my bare bottom. “Oohh!” I jumped, garnering a few stares. I tried to pass it off as a shiver in the frigid morning. One woman gave me a sidewise look and shake of the head. Could she know?

    “You come to this stop often?” he asked, to make it appear a convivial act.

    “Every morning this time. How about you?”

    I felt his palms warming on the heat of my ass. Once they’d normalized a bit, he brought them under the coat around to my front. Are you married?” He asked, louder this time.

    Several people peered at us, not wanting to appear to be voyeurs.

    He stood tight behind me as I stared straight ahead. I didn’t dare look down to see if his hands were obviously fumbling down there, or to see whether anybody else could guess what he was doing. In the sparkly raindrops the glare of high beam headlights flickered off the blacktop.

    • Daddy X

      Whoooops! Forgot to say that the above is from a WIP, Waiting for The Bus.

  11. Donna Gallagher

    Opening her mouth, Beth leaned forward to take the tempting, rigid shaft between her lips. The hint of pineapple mixed with Ben’s musky scent was too inviting to ignore. She took him into her mouth as far as she could before dragging her lips away again. More interested in relishing her husband, she discarded the fruit in her grasp and wrapped one hand around the base of Ben’s cock. She massaged his balls gently with her other.
    Beth kept up a slow, torturous pace. Well, torture for Ben anyway—she was enjoying every moment. Having her lips around Ben’s cock, the satiny texture of the skin, the taste of the slightly salty drops of pre-cum, made her feel sexy—a welcome feeling. One she rejoiced in. Knowing she had control of Ben’s pleasure had her own arousal building and she hummed in enjoyment.
    “You’re killing me… Do that again. Hum again. Fuck me! So good! I can feel your mouth vibrating around my cock.” Ben growled as he grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged gently on the strands. “But you have to stop. I want to be buried balls deep in your wet pussy when I come, baby.”

    Excerpt is from A Fruitful Intimacy – Donna Gallagher

  12. Ylette Pearson

    With both men’s pistols armed and ready for a showdown, she sat on her haunches and stroked them, licking them and clamping her legs together when their pre-cum caused her vagina to beg for their touch. She dragged them closer to her and rubbed the blossoming heads together, gliding her tongue across the united shafts.
    “Enough,” Wade growled and pulled her to her feet.
    Seconds later, she stood naked, her clothes scattered over the dusty floor. Their hands caressed her body, pinching her nipples, stroking her ass, her sides and fondling her clit. Wade closed his mouth on the sensitized peak of her nipple while Maverick nudged her legs apart and paid homage to her cunt. Sensation rocked through her, throbbing in her pussy and lubricating Maverick’s hand. Her legs threatened to give way.
    Wade caressed her midriff, her hips, and stroked the globes of her ass. When he separated the cheeks and his finger found the tight ring of her anus, Adrian’s legs buckled and she grabbed onto Maverick’s shoulders to steady herself. Wade stepped away from her and rummaged through a saddlebag nestling against the wall. He returned with a small bottle of lubricant.

    A 196-word excerpt from Her Bareback Cowboys—Ylette Pearson

Hot Chilli Erotica

Hot Chilli Erotica


Babysitting the Baumgartners - The Movie
From Adam & Eve - Based on the Book by New York Times Bestselling Authors Selena Kitt



Pin It on Pinterest