Sexy Snippet Day for February

by | February 19, 2016 | Sexy Snippets | 11 comments

It’s that time again! Time to share bite-sized nuggets of your steamiest stories. That’s right. Today is Sexy Snippet 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.

Please post excerpts only from published work (or work that is free for download), not works in progress. The goal, after all, is to titillate your readers and seduce them into buying your books!

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

Of course I expect you to follow the rules. One snippet per author, please. 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!

After 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 out.


~ 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. Lisabet Sarai

    “Anyway—I just want you to know that I wasn’t trying to bribe you or anything like that..”

    “Come on, Rachel. That can’t be true.” I recall the photo of the determined teenager at the science fair. “You’re not the type to give up on something you want.”

    “What I mean is, I won’t pressure you. I won’t mention it again.” She takes my hand in both of hers and gazes into my eyes. Her silky skin is cooler than mine. The contact sends a bolt of fire straight to my cock, which jerks in my lap. She notices, reaching out to clasp it in her nimble fingers.

    Her delicate squeeze makes me moan.

    “Theo. I don’t want you to think that—this—whatever this is between us—has anything to do with business.”

    I seize her shoulders and pull her to me. “And what is this between us, woman?” She becomes soft and pliant in my hands, offering her throat to my kisses, raising her arms so I can remove her blouse, spreading her thighs wide as I drive my aching dick into her eager cunt. I fuck her until she screams and convulses around my cock. Then I fuck her some more.

    200 words from The Gazillionaire and the Virgin by Lisabet Sarai

    • Jean Roberta

      So hard to separate business from pleasure! So hard. 🙂

  2. Daddy X

    Assman Distracted



    “Jesus! Watch it, Herb.”

    “Holy fuck—where’d he come from?”

    “You blew right through that light. What’s wrong with you?”

    “Oh. Guess I got distracted, sweetheart. All this traffic.”

    “Traffic? Bullshit. Don’t sweetheart me! You were watching that girl jogging. Those tiny red shorts. Watching her ass.”

    “Ummm …”

    “I saw you—you pervert. One third your age.”

    “Still legal.”

    “Maybe. But you’re sixty. You haven’t looked at me that way in ages.”

    “You got one fine tookas baby. Remember how we used to do? Remember, your sphincter would finally relax, then open wide for me?”

    “You’re just saying that ‘cause I’m mad.”

    “You’re not that mad, are you?”

    “You never ask to do it back there any more.”

    “How about tonight? Some lubey-ass? We’ll play buttplugs too.”

    “I don’t know—after this kind of behavior-”


    “You wouldn’t have wanted to, not if it wasn’t for some bouncy ass.”

    “Whose ass?”

    “Back there. That one you almost got us killed over.”

    “Oh yeah, her. I can still see her in the rear view mirror. Yep, she’s right back there. Great tits too. Aww, you bet. I sure would-”

    Screeeeech! … Bam!

    Advance sample of "Flash Daddy" a collection of shorts coming later this year.

    But for now:

  3. Author Lola White

    “Djinn are sensitive, everyone knows that. I protected you. Didn’t I protect you from the worst of it?”
    He shifted against my back and I finally realized he was as naked as me. The long rod of his cock pressed between my ass cheeks, lodging against my heat with a familiarity born of years. His lust rolled over me in a blistering tide that enhanced my own and had my legs shifting in a helpless move to give him more space to invade.
    “Yes, Giovanni,” I gasped. “You took care of me when no one else did.”
    “Because I love you, baby. Let me love you now, Zahra.”
    I didn’t know how much choice I had. I didn’t know if I could find either the strength or the words to deny him. I didn’t know if I wanted to deny him at all. The need to have his hands on me, his cock pumping inside me and his teeth lodged in my flesh as my blood flowed into his mouth were too overwhelming to let me think beyond.
    Consequences ceased to exist, but I knew Giovanni would keep me safe, as he had for so long.
    Excerpt from Santeria & Sorcery by Lola White

  4. Elizabeth Schechter

    "You were worried about me?" Gavir asked. "Iras, I'm shocked. And flattered."

    Iras looked away, trying to control her embarrassment. "You should be."

    "I'm honored," Gavir said. He took Iras' hand in his and squeezed her fingers. "I just wish I were in better shape right now. I'm not in any condition to see to you the way you're needing, Iras."

    Iras arched an eyebrow, feeling a surge of indignant anger. "Really? And what do I need, Kian-ti-os?"

    He didn't rise. He just smiled, gesturing to one of the gray-clad novices who acted as servitors in the Lounge. He didn't say anything until a pair of drinks had been delivered to the table. Then he leaned forward, and his voice was a low growl when he answered, "You need to be bound. Bound to my whim and paraded on a lead throughout the Arena so that everyone knows you are mine. You need to be beaten, often and thoroughly, so that you never forget just how much regard I have for you and how dear to me you truly are. And you need to be taken, bent over a table and savaged until your screams of pleasure and your cries for mercy ring from the very rafters. That, my dear Iras, is what you need." He sat back, raised his drink, and smiled. "Unfortunately, it's not what I can give you. Not tonight. Would you settle for dinner?"

    — from "Tales from the Arena: Opening Gambit" by Elizabeth Schechter

  5. Thomas Carver

    "Everyone kneel."

    We did, even though the floor was cool and hard on our knees. He stood in front of Chad. "You got nice lips," he said, looking down. He cupped the bulge in his jeans. "They good for anything?"

    I tore my eyes forward.

    "What," he said. "You don't want to suck my dick?"

    Chad finally got some words out, "Sir, no sir."

    I could hear Jim's breath. He kneeled next to me, and I could feel his tension. The pledgemaster stood in front of him. "What about you? You want to suck my cock?"

    "Sir, no sir!" he bellowed.

    The pledgemaster slowly lowered his zipper. The hiss was loud. All laughter was dead. "One of you," he said quietly, "is going to suck my cock. And I think it's gonna be you."

    I felt more than saw Jim's weight shift. He stood, and we all looked at him. His cock swung, soft, between his legs, and his runner's body was hairless and smooth and dark. "Fuck you."

    The room inhaled.

    "I'll do it," I said. "I'll suck it."

    Pledge Captain, Thomas Carver

  6. Jean Roberta

    Didrick, my able-bodied former student, was my gardener and maid-of-all-work. I watched her planting flowers and vegetables in receptive soil, and the symbolic implications of her work did not escape me. She washed the silk sheets of the beds where I took her, and where her diligence left me wet and fragrant. My poor protégé has never learned to write a solid sentence, but she poured her energy into becoming a one-dyke household staff.
    Didrick Bent. The very name arouses such conflicting passions in me that I can’t sit still. My house feels empty, but I feel as charged with electricity as the air beyond my walls.
    The telephone rings on schedule. She was forbidden to contact me for two weeks, and today is the fourteenth day. I let it ring once, twice, sensing her anxiety. One the sixth ring, I answer.
    "Dr. Chalkdust?" She sounds like a child. "You said I could see you today."
    "Yes." She will have to express herself without help.
    "I really want to come over." The tears that I would not shed are as audible in her voice as gusts of rain on glass.
    – from "Tears from Heaven" by Jean Roberta, in Best Lesbian Erotica, Twentieth Anniversary Edition –

  7. Kenn Dahll

    Excerpt from Pup Love by Kenn Dahll:

    “Stand up and strip!” Dave orders as we enter the room. In no time I’m naked except for the dog collar, and I remain motionless, standing at attention, while he walks around me as if inspecting a horse he’s considering purchasing. “Your ass is getting firm.” Using a cat-o-nine-tails, he swats the referenced area. I suppress a whimper but can’t help wincing. Dave continues his examination. “Hmmm, more hair on your torso.”

    I’m blond and at thirty-two still relatively hairless, the patch between my pecs spreads outward to my breasts and downward to my navel, something Dave considers attractive. Emphasizing his observation with the whip, he gently lashes my chest and abdomen, allowing the tails to caress my stiff dick. Oh, the tantalizing titillation!

    “Put this on… tight!” He tosses a leather cock ring at me.

    “Yes, Sir!” I reply as I catch the item and place it around my dick and below my scrotum.

    “Tighter!” I unsnap the device and force it one snap snugger to ensure the required pressure. The tightness creates a dull ache in my nut sack−I don’t complain−I love mortifying myself to please my Master.

  8. Janelle Reston

    Excerpt from "Alien Vibes" by Janelle Reston:

    The smooth, stainless steel wand gleams in the light from our kitchen window. I can’t resist the urge to reach out and touch.
    “Do you like it?” you ask, eyebrow quirked. You release your grasp on the T-shaped handle so I can feel the wand’s full weight in my hand. At just six inches long, and an inch or so in diameter, it’s surprisingly heavy. It seems almost as dense as the lead musket balls I carry on my belt during steampunk cosplay. I wonder if it’s solid steel all the way through, or if it has a denser metal at its core.
    “What is it?” I ask. Your profession is metal sculpting, but in your free time you’re always designing something new — often for cosplay, although sex toys are another of your talents. Is this apparatus for either of those applications, or perhaps both? I certainly wouldn’t mind feeling its solid length between my legs.
    “If I told you, I’d be taking all the fun out of this game,” you say. “I’m more interested in what you think it is.”

    — appears in The First Annual Geeky Kink Anthology, published by Riverdale Ave Books:

  9. Lisabet Sarai

    Yum! Some wonderful snippets here. I love seeing M/M and F/F stuff!

  10. D arkinferno

    She was a vision of passion, rocking and bouncing and grinding between them, perky breasts jiggling, her features contorting with unearthly pleasure, and urging them on amidst ragged breaths, her orgasm building like a great black storm upon the horizon. This wasn’t like it had been with Sean and his little friends. That had been so different, so violent and primitive, with them using her as a piece of meat, a tool for their own gratification. None of it could have prepared her for this, these sensations coursing through her veins like carnal wildfire. The intensity, the friction, the fullness, the sheer… feeling of it all, nothing was as it should be. She was just so sensitive, every feeling felt amplified and enhanced, pushing her towards the highest pinnacle of pleasure as heat— delicious, glorious, orgasmic fire— reached out from her core, spreading through every fibre of her being to consume her, body and soul. Goddamn, it was too good. Nothing could have prepared her for this.

    “Ohhh fuck, Mina… your ass is amazing!” Mark groaned into her ear, his breath washing over the back of her neck and sending hot shivers down her spine. “It’s so tight and slippery…

    200 words from L.M. Mountford’s Confessions –

Hot Chilli Erotica

Hot Chilli Erotica


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