I've been busy and not really sure what to say here, but you can see photos on Flickr, my daily Tweets and my Tumblr for updates. I'm focused on packing Happy Ending Lounge more than I ever have for the countdown to the end of In The Flesh and the (shhh) best one you'll see all year next Thursday for Media Sex Night. You should of course come to all six that are left, but do kick yourself if you miss next week's. Two and a half hours of nonstop free snacks and writing superstars, including New York Times-bestselling author Jillian Lauren.
I'm thrilled that my lesbian pregnancy vacation erotica story "Swollen" was published in the just-released Lesbian Lust: Erotic Stories, edited by Sacchi Green.
Official book description:
For readers who crave stories of uninhibited, unrepentant sex between women, Lesbian Lust delivers. This is real lesbian sex: sensual, inventive, and nothing less than breathtaking. Butches abound, baby dykes learn important life lessons, femmes and fatales bring each other to the brink. In "The Office Grind," by R. G. Emanuelle, a stressed-out businesswoman loses herself and her heart in the startling green eyes of a sleek butch in a bar. Gill McKnight's "Beach Moth" tells the tale of a tall, dark, and handsome stranger who offers her hand to a femme abandoned on vacation. The ultimate in eroticism, the relentless, raw stories of Lesbian Lust leave no fantasy is unfulfilled.
And excerpt from my story "Swollen:"
She could tell just what she was doing to me, and we both knew it. “Relax, Bea, relax,” she urged me. I hadn’t realized I’d been at all tense, at all uncertain, until she said it. Of course I’d thought I was relaxed as I lay naked on the bed, my pregnant belly rising upward, somehow no longer heavy and uncomfortable, as a beautiful woman coaxed me halfway toward orgasm. But when I let out a breath and sank deeper into the luxurious sheets, becoming one with the bed, I realized I had been holding out, some small part of me perhaps thinking it unseemly or improper for me to be here with Katherine, so blatantly reveling in sex when I had more important things on my mind. But could there be anything more important than a woman’s touch forcing me to get in touch with my body, my desires?
I let out a moan, a cry, an exclamation not in English or any other language as her mouth made its way lower, taking me farther from the realities of life and deeper into the world of pleasure. Her tongue traced its way over the hardness of my stomach, kissing and licking alternately before she reached my pubic hair. I hoped she wouldn’t mind how unruly it had become, but she seemed to delight in it, running her fingers through my fuzz, tugging at a few of the hairs before she breathed against my sex, her lips so close, promising me their kiss. And Katherine was a woman who kept her promises. I felt like I was floating as she ran her tongue along my lower lips. She wasn’t aggressive like some of the women I’d been with, and her gentleness seemed to imply that there was more passion lurking just beneath the surface. “You are heavenly,” she said, her words music to my ears. I’d been growing steadily, feeling out of control, filled with something new and exciting yet also terrifying. Katherine’s mouth told me everything would be okay. Her tongue taught me that my pussy was still my own, that I could still bring a woman that special ecstasy that comes from partaking of another woman’s juices. Her lips told me that she couldn’t imagine a more sensuous delight than exploring my every nook and cranny.
I soon got over feeling selfish and simply enjoyed the gift she was giving me. I could still feel the baby, but she was, momentarily, secondary. It was me and Katherine, and soon her fingers began exploring me as her tongue rested against my clit, hinting at its heat but simply staying there, as if she’d pressed the pause button. “You’re so wet for me,” she observed, and I smiled. All my pent-up pleasure, my juices that had had seemingly nowhere to go, my longing that I’d poured into decorating and preparing, all came out in this exotic place, with a woman I still wasn’t sure was real. It was as if she’d been sent to answer my prayers, one stroke at a time.
Read an excerpt from "Reunion at St. Mary's" by Catherine Lundoff at PGW. Buy Lesbian Lust from Amazon or Cleis Press.