Model, Wanted: Part Four is out now!

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I’m terrible at blogging, but I’ve made a promise to myself that I’m going to try to blog at least once a week from now on, and that includes my paranormal fiction blogsite Marissa Farrar, and my Erotic Ebook Deals site. 

I’ve been so rubbish, in fact, that I haven’t even posted here about the release of the previous three parts of my serial, Model, Wanted. It seems a bit strange announcing part four is out, when I haven’t announced part two or three! However that is what I’m going to do…

So, in case you hadn’t already gathered, part four of Model, Wanted is out now! Here’s the blurb and a bit of a steamy excerpt: 

Excerpt:

She could sense his reluctance as he released his hands from her ass and stepped back, allowing space between them. He turned to face the road and quickly waved down a cab. She smiled. In New York, he was able to hail a cab within a minute. How often did that happen? Like Logan, Eric had an aura people couldn’t ignore.

They slipped into the back, Anya going first, quickly followed by Eric’s lean body. He gave the driver the address and then settled in, his arm slung around the back of the seat, behind Anya’s head.

The cab driver pulled into the traffic.

Eric edged closer and nuzzled her neck, making her squirm. His mouth pressed against the velvet lobe of her ear, and he spoke so gently she wondered if she’d misheard him. “I can’t wait until we get to my place.”

She turned to him. “Wh—” she started to say, but he silenced her with another kiss, his teeth gently finding her lower lip and grazing the sensitive flesh. He lifted his mouth from hers and pressed it back against her ear. “Open your legs.”

A spark fired through her.

“I’ll be discrete. I promise.”

He might be able to be discrete, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to!

“You trust me, don’t you?” She nodded. “Now do as I say.”

She couldn’t resist him.

Anya parted her thighs a little, feeling the cool air hit her skin. She wore a pair of panties, but they were a flimsy scrap of material and wouldn’t hinder his progress.

Eric reached across her body and pulled the other side of her coat across her lap. He looked into her eyes, amusement and lust dancing in their chocolate depths in equal measures. The coat provided a barrier from any peeping eyes in the rear view mirror. He slid his hand beneath the jacket, his fingertips walking like a spider up the inside of her thigh. As she’d predicted, the panties were simply pulled to one side, and before she knew it, the warm probe of his fingers pressed against her pussy.

She stifled a moan and edged down in the seat, allowing her thighs to spread farther, making access for Eric easier. She was already wet from the time she’d spent with both Eric and Logan, and also from the wicked public display of affection in front of the bar. He slipped his fingers along her slit, opening her up.

He pushed one digit inside her. Her cunt clenched around the intrusion, and she found herself moving against him unconsciously, needing more. She wanted to lie back and open her legs for him fully, grab his hand and force two, three, even four fingers inside her and make him pump her hard. But she was acutely aware of the other man sitting only a matter of feet from her, and so she held herself back.

He made no attempt to kiss her again, just watched her intently, studying her every reaction as he fingered her in the back of the cab.

“Keep still, Anya,” he said, speaking against her ear once more. “He’ll notice.”

She wanted to whimper in frustration.

Eric pushed another finger inside her, increasing the stretch, creating the feeling of fullness she so desperately craved. Her hands reached for him, wanting to touch him too, but he pushed her hand away with the one he had spare. She could see the bulge in his pants, knowing he was as turned on as she was, if that was even possible, but he wouldn’t let her touch him.

Instead, she grabbed the material of his pants in one fist, bunching it up as he continued to push inside her with a slow, rhythmic pace. Her stomach tightened, the muscles in her thighs straining. Pleasure coiled and swam in her lower abdomen as he fingered her, converging to a peak in her clit. She arched her hips, wanting him to put pressure on the sensitive swollen nub. Her cream was slick on her thighs, and she imagined his hand must be soaked with her desire. She was too turned on to care.

As if he’d read her body and known exactly what she needed, he shifted the position of his hand slightly and used his thumb to put pressure on her clit. She turned her face, burying it against his shoulder as her pleasure stepped up a notch.

“Oh God,” she gasped.

He increased the pace, almost hard enough to hurt. Her building orgasm tilted her over the edge, and she plummeted down, freefall, held in the grip of the waves that powered through her. Her pussy clenched against his fingers, her hips involuntary rocking to pump his hand. To stop herself crying out, she bit into his shoulder.

“Everything okay back there?” The cab driver’s voice.

Anya managed to sit back up, Eric slipping his fingers from her cunt.

“Fine, thank you,” he said, his voice completely composed. He lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked her cream from his fingers.

Anya giggled, hiding her face against his shoulder once again.

Blurb:

Still unsure about whether or not she should allow the whole of New York’s artistic community to see her photographs, Anya allows Eric to convince her to meet the infamous Logan Blanc. The meeting takes an unexpected turn as Logan makes an offer she can’t refuse. But if she decides to tell her strict parents she’s been posing for explicit photo shoots, the experience could blow apart their relationship forever.

Please note: This book has a word count of approximately 13,000, or 45 pages of a paperback. It contains explicit scenes not intended for anyone below the age of 18. 

Eric and Anya’s story will be published as a serial, with a new addition to be released every couple of months at only $0.99!

Part One of Model Wanted, is FREE on most ebook sites!

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I’m Going to Eroticon 2014 – Introductions!

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It’s been so long since I wrote a blog post, I’m actually embarrassed. The whole of last year passed by without me writing even a couple of lines – in fact, I didn’t even blog about Eroticon 2013, which I’m deeply ashamed about.

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My excuses are that last year was mainly taken up by pregnancy and then a small baby called Summer, and needing to focus on my non-erotic work which I write in my married name, Marissa Farrar.

This year, however, I want to refocus on my erotic work, an art I still love, even though it doesn’t sell as well as my urban fantasy and paranormal romance novels. I have a couple of books out this year, a full length erotic romance novel, Survivor, plus  the continuation of my serial, Model, Wanted.  It’s because of this that I am looking forward to attending Eroticon 2014. I hope to be re-inspired and reinvigorated by my fellow erotic writing colleagues, plus help sharpen up some of my erotic writing skills.  As an introduction to everyone, the organiser has arranged for us all to answer a few simple questions so we’ll know eacho ther a little better before we even arrive. So here’s my Q&A! 

What’s your name?

M.K. Elliott or Marissa Farrar. I write erotica and contemporary romance as M.K., and urban fantasy as Marissa. Neither are technically pen names, as M.K. Elliott is just my maiden name. Confused yet? You can just call me Marissa.

What are you most looking forward to about Eroticon 2014?

Am I allowed to say a whole day without the kids? No, I’m only kidding … I’m looking forward to meeting up with friends old and new, and leaving with the buzz I always get from attending Eroticon.

What are you most nervous about Eroticon 2014?

Being completely honest, I’m most nervous about leaving my six month old baby for the first time for any length of time! I know that’s probably silly, but I will miss her!

What do you hope to get from Eroticon?

I want to be inspired to refocus on my erotic work and take my writing to a new level in 2014.

What is your bad erotica writing pen name?

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Either Amulet De Quenelle or Amulet Debased!

To read more introductions, follow the link! I’ll look forward to seeing you there!

New Release! ‘Model, Wanted’ (BDSM serial)

I have a new release out! Model, Wanted, is the first part in my new serial. I plan to release a new chunk every couple of months so if you’d like a little sample of what’s to come, keep reading for a super-sexy excerpt.

‘Model, Wanted’ is available to buy from Amazon and Smashwords for only $0.99!

Blurb:

Eric Rutherford is a photographer with aspirations. At the top of his game, he creates images for five star hotels and portraits for wealthy families.
But Eric has a dream. He longs to create erotic art. He has an eye for a woman’s beauty, but he doesn’t just want to photograph a woman naked, he also wants to tie her up, and down. He wants to bind rope across her breasts, tight enough that the rope leaves an imprint on her skin. He wants to have her on her knees, with her hands handcuffed to her ankles. He wants to whip her rounded pale bottom with a leather flogger, and then photograph the red stripes.
So his search for his perfect model begins and when an advert brings the beautiful, blonde Anya into his apartment, his one fear is that she’ll say no.
Follow erotic photographer, Eric, and model, Anya’s sexy exploits as they push the boundaries of not only their art, but their relationship. How far will they go to fulfill their sexual and artistic desires?





Excerpt
Back in his apartment, Eric waited for Anya with his nerves on edge. Not only did he have a hundred things he wanted to ask her, he also had something prepared which he hoped she’d want to do.
She walked into his apartment and headed straight to his studio area, not mentioning what had happened earlier. He couldn’t let it go so easily.
“What were you doing at the university today, Anya?”
She turned to him with her innocent smile. “Perhaps I was following you.”
“Really? How did you know where I’d be?”
She shrugged. “I saw a poster in the hall. I’m a student at the college.”
“Is that right?” He didn’t know whether to believe her or not. She was such an enigma. He couldn’t tell when she was being serious.
“Am I not allowed to speak to you outside of this apartment?”
“Yes, of course you can.” She always managed to trip him up. “I just …” Want to know more about you.
He couldn’t say it, not allow her into his life as any more than a subject of his art.
“Good.” She smiled. “So, what do you have planned for me today?”
From his box of tricks, he lifted a length of hemp rope. Her eyes widened, but she nodded and began to undress.
This was his time now. He would take control of her, harness her to his own will.
He bound the rope around her body, first around the narrowest part of her waist, knotting it at her navel. Then he brought one end up, between her breasts and across, to loop over her shoulder and down her slender back, down to her waist. He repeated the motion with the other end of the rope, tying it tight so the ridges dug into her soft, delicate skin. The result was that the rope tightened around each breast individually, squeezing them toward him. Her nipples were rock-hard, crinkled peaks, and he longed to touch them, graze his palm across the hardened nubs. But he did not.
“It’s not hurting you?” he asked.
Her lips were slack, her breathing shallow, but she shook her head. “It’s fine.”
He’d finally managed to affect her, he could tell.
Eric stepped back and lifted his camera, moving around her to snap shots of her bound breasts, stomach, and shoulders. Already, he could see the red marks of the rope and the thought of removing the rope to photograph those marks made him dizzy with anticipation.
But he wasn’t finished yet. He picked up another length. “Can you handle more?” he asked.
“Yes, oh, yes.”
Gently, he reached down and nudged her naked thighs apart. Again, he started with a loop around her waist, knotted, instead, at the base of her spine. This time he headed downward, pulling the rope between her thighs so it pressed between the crack of her buttocks. He looped it back over the length of rope at her navel and pulled tight, the coarse rope pressing between the delicate lips of her cunt, right against her clitoris.
Anya gasped and then exhaled a small, shuddery breath.
“Is this okay?” he asked her again, not wanting to hurt her, but still wanting to take their art to the edge.
She nodded frantically, “Oh, yes.”
Eric continued to wrap the rope around her body, framing her buttocks, encasing her thighs.
“Lie back,” he instructed. “Spread your legs.”
She did as she was told.
Such perfect contrast, the coarse material against the delicate lips of her pussy. The contact against her clit sending the blood rushing to her most sensitive area. The inner lips almost purple with stimulation. He took a number of shots.
“Turn over.”
She rolled onto her stomach.
“Lift your ass in the air.”
Every movement would be creating more friction against her clit. He saw her arousal in the wetness on her pussy lips when she lifted her ass for him, heard it in the moan she tried to stifle against the wooden floor. The rope hid the perfect star of her anus and, for that, he experienced a momentary dip of disappointment, though it didn’t last long. He knew what his next project would be—to capture her sweet little ass. Perhaps she would even allow him to penetrate her with something? He had a slim, silver butt plug that would look stunning as it slipped into that tight little hole, the light glinting off the metal.
Oh, fuck. The idea caused more blood to rush to his cock, his balls tightening, his dick throbbing. Or perhaps his cock would look better in her ass, swelling the spot at her lower back as he held himself deep.
He had to stop now.
“Okay,” he forced himself to say. “I think we’ve done enough for today. You did beautifully.”
She turned her head to look at him. “You’re not going to leave me like this?”
How did she mean, still tied up or ultimately unsatisfied?
“No, of course not.”
He got to his knees beside her, carefully undoing the knots around her middle. With tenderness, he unraveled the rope, revealing the red marks he knew would be imprinted into her skin. The rope fell in a pile beside her and she rolled her shoulders, about to move.
“Wait, just one minute.” He held a hand out, stilling her. “I can’t miss this.”
Eric grabbed his camera again, taking shots of the imprints on her skin, her shoulders, hips and thighs.
She turned her face to him, her eyes locking with his. “Are we done?”
“Yes.”
The air between them buzzed with tension. He wanted to kiss her, but he forced himself to step back, needing to keep control of himself. His life was about control, a strict regime which kept him on track. If he allowed himself to veer to far from it, he didn’t know if he’d find his way back again. Desperate to create perfection, he’d suffered from obsessive behavior about his work when he’d been younger, something that had plunged him into a depression, feeling like he’d never be able to achieve what his heart and soul desired. He’d work every hour, trying to obtain that perfect image, neglecting sleep and food, running himself into the ground.
Would she be his downfall? he wondered. Or his savior?

***
‘Model, Wanted’ is available to buy from Amazon and Smashwords for only $0.99! 

New Release: A Sexy Festive Excerpt

With the leaves turning russet and falling to the ground, it’s hard to ignore that the festive season is almost upon us!

I love Christmas and this year I’ve decided to release a festive, sexy short story especially for the season. ‘Christmas Male’ now available to buy from Amazon for only $0.99!

Keep reading for the blurb and a little teasing excerpt…

Thirty-two year old divorcee, Erica, is alone on Christmas Eve with only a bottle of Baileys to keep her company. Even worse, she’s still awaiting the delivery of her daughter’s main present – even though her daughter is spending that Christmas with her ex-husband. 

She’s about to give up when the delivery guy arrives. He’s young, smoking hot, and seems to be interested in Erica.

Perhaps she won’t be spending Christmas alone after all…

*** ‘Christmas Male’ is a short story of approximately 5,000 words. It includes scenes of explicit sex, anal play, and some sexy fun with a bottle of Baileys!***

Excerpt:

He focused on her with those piercing, blue eyes and something inside her quivered, tightening her nipples once more and causing her pussy to pulse. Heat rose from her chest, flushing up her throat.
Erica cringed. He must have noticed the effect he had on her. How embarrassing. He’d probably go out later and tell his friends about the middle-aged, horny housewife he had practically coming in her panties.
You’re only thirty-two; hardly middle-aged…
She realized he’d said something and her humiliation deepened. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, sometimes it’s easy to get tired of those parties. Sometimes it’s nice to actually sit down and have a conversation with someone… one-on-one.”
The way he said ‘one on one’ with a deliberate hesitation made her wonder. Was he coming onto her?
“So your daughter isn’t here at the moment?” he enquired.
“She’s at her father’s until tomorrow lunchtime.”
“With your ex-husband?”
“Yes, we alternate Christmases.”
The intensity of his stare deepened, his gaze trailed down her body and back up again, before coming to rest on her face. “I can’t image any guy wanting to give up Christmas with you.”
She wasn’t imaging things. He was definitely flirting with her. Despite the excitement fluttering in her belly, her sensible, parent-head remained on her shoulders. She was a grown-up. She didn’t play games.
Erica sat back. “Listen, I’m not in the habit of getting it on with the delivery guy, I want you to know that. I’m not the type for some young guy to come in for a quick screw so he can go out and brag to all his friends.”
He leaned in closer. Suddenly his lower lip seemed fuller than before, a slight crease down the middle, bite-ably so. What would it feel like to run the tip of my tongue down that crease?
“It’s not like that, Erica,” he said, his eyes searching hers.
“No?” Her voice came out husky. “What is it like?”
“Let me show you.”
He leaned in and hesitated once again, waiting to judge her response. The couple of drinks she’d had gave her some courage. Though her heart pounded and every nerve screamed this was nuts, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed the gap.
His mouth pressed against hers, hot and soft. Erica parted her lips, tasting coffee and alcohol as his tongue eagerly delved into her mouth. Fire raced through her and she crawled across the couch, deepening the kiss. Her body seemed to act of its own accord and her thigh stretched across the thickness of his, straddling him.
Erica laced her fingers in the soft curls at the nape of his neck. Their tongues touched and danced, exploring each other’s mouths with sudden hunger.
His hands caressed her body, skimming over the surface of her sweater to cup the weight of her breasts. He squeezed the firm mounds, thumbs grazing her nipples, causing them to harden to a point of pain. Erica arched her back, pressing her tits into his hands. Scott got the message and took her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He pinched the nubs hard enough to make her gasp, her pussy clenching in response.
Was this really happening?  
Erica ground down on him like a horny teenager, the ridge beneath his jeans pressing against the thin material of her black pants. The contact fit perfectly between her pussy-lips, and she felt her juices wet the lace of her panties, soaking right down to her pants, and leaving a damp patch. She rocked her hips, the pressure against her swollen clit sending sparks racing up through her core, tightening deep in her uterus. Her fingers slid from the back of his neck, traced down over his broad, hard chest, until they hooked beneath the soft cotton of his t-shirt.
With a slightly awkward movement, she pulled the shirt up over his head, exposing his young, lean body. She paused, drinking him in. Her ex-husband was in his early forties now and had developed a certain thickness to his torso. This guy was pure muscle, as though his skin had been glued straight on.
But he was too good just to look at; the ripped muscle and smooth skin begging to be touched.
Her fingers trailed over his chest, thumb brushing the hardened nub of his nipple. The sensation created a fire in his eyes and it was Scott’s turn to lace his fingers in her hair, bringing her in for another kiss. His hands left her hair, skimming down her back to grab the bottom of her sweater and pull the clothing over her head.
The soft material being tugged over her head forced the kiss to break, but when he discarded her sweater on the floor she didn’t seek out his mouth. Instead, she lowered her lips to his chest, her tongue sneaking out and trailing a wet line down to his nipple. He inhaled and squirmed as her tongue circled the peak, her teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh.
Erica moved lower, sliding from the couch to the floor between his thighs. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and popped the button of his soft, blue jeans. The bulge of his erection created an impressive lump and she wasted no time pulling down the zipper, freeing him.
His cock sprung out to meet her eager mouth; his erection hard, the head smooth and purple. She stuck out her tongue and tasted the salty fluid leaking from the tip. His scent filled her nostrils—no aftershave or deodorant, just the musky and definitive scent of man.
Her mouth engulfed his erection and she stretched her jaw wide around its girth. She swirled her tongue over the head and then sank lower, drawing more of him in, wanting to take him deep. She maintained eye-contact, loving the expression in his eyes as he struggled to control his urge to give in and fuck her face. Instead, he held back with impressive restraint, allowing her to slide her mouth up and down the length of his dick, keeping her lips tight to create friction while sucking with just the right amount of pressure. Her tongue ran down the underside of his shaft as she moved back and forth.
Scott’s hips began to jerk, his cock swelling in her mouth. Not wanting him to come, she gave the base of his erection a firm squeeze and released the suction on him with a wet pop.
“Fuck,” Scott muttered above her, though she didn’t know if the swear word was due to pleasure or frustration….

***


Like what you’ve read? Christmas Male is now available to buy from Amazon for only $0.99!

Some More Erotic Fiction – ‘Doing the Devil’.

Doing the Devil
Sienna always hated dress-up.
Even as a kid, she resented having to peel off her own clothes to pull on the personality of someone else. She felt confident with who she was and didn’t want to disguise herself. Yet, still, every year Halloween came round and she was expected to become a different person.
Tonight was no different. Now twenty-eight years old, her good friends—a married couple called Christian and Maggie—were throwing a party and she’d been invited. Though reluctant to make an appearance, she worried too many no-shows to this type of event would eventually result in her total exclusion from society.
So Sienna donned the unimaginative but customary ‘sexy witch’ outfit, complete with stockings, a very short skirt and a witch’s hat, and headed out to the party. Pausing on her friend’s doorstep, she smoothed down her skirt and repositioned her hat. Music and voices blared from behind the door.
Knowing no one would hear her knocking, Sienna let herself in. Bodies pressed on every side, drinks held in hand. The other guests eyed her as she passed. Most of their faces were hidden behind masks—ghosts, goblins and ghouls—and she had no idea if she knew any of them or not.
She spotted Maggie in the kitchen, doling out drinks to her guests. Maggie had gone for an outfit almost as unimaginative as her own—a cat—and black lycra clung to every inch of her extremely curvy body. A mask adorned her face, with not so cat-like sparkles all over it.
Maggie saw her coming and waved a hand, beckoning her over.
“Hi!” she exclaimed. “I’m so glad you came!”
“I can’t believe you force me to come to these things. You know how I hate big parties.”
“You can’t stay locked up in your house on your own for the rest of your life. You’re going to die an old maid.”
“Thanks,” she said. “But sometimes I think dying an old maid would be preferable to making small talk  to a load of people I not only don’t know, but whose faces I can’t even see.”
Maggie shoved a large glass of cold white wine into her hand. “Here, get that down you. It’ll help loosen you up.”
“I hope that wasn’t a jibe at me being uptight.”
“Never.”
Sienna scoured the party-goers, trying to figure out if she knew anyone. Someone caught her attention but it wasn’t because she knew him. One of the guests stood aside from everyone else, not making the customary small talk or even drinking. Sienna caught his eye and had to stop herself stepping back in surprise. He had the most amazing amber eyes she’d ever seen—like those of a lion.
His face had been worked in some kind of make-up, like rippled, burned skin, and painted red. The red paint continued down over his naked upper-torso. He must have waxed because not a single hair marred his smooth skin or ruined the perfect paint job. Fur harem pants covered his lower half and bizarrely, big biker boots completed the outfit.
Despite the hideous disguise, Sienna couldn’t miss the broad shoulders and well-rounded curve of this particular trick-or-treater’s biceps. This guy was a hunk of beef, despite the freaky outfit.
“Who’s that guy?” she asked, nudging Maggie in the ribs and nodding over at the well-built stranger.
Maggie’s eyes narrowed behind her cat mask. “I’m not sure. I think he came with one of Christian’s friends. Of course it’s hard to tell with that weird mask, but I’m pretty sure I’d have clocked that body before if I knew him. Now please excuse me, I have to go mingle.”
Her friend sauntered away, leaving Sienna standing in the kitchen feeling awkward. She took a large swig of her wine, hoping to relax. Her eyes were drawn back to the spot where she’d seen the man in the red make-up and her stomach dipped in disappointment. He’d gone.
A voice spoke next to her ear, “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been staring at me.”
Sienna jumped and spun around to find the man she’d been watching staring down at her. His huge frame dwarfed her petite five-foot-four stature.
Her cheeks flushed. “It’s the outfit,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
“Thank you,” he said, smiling at her, revealing beautiful, straight white teeth. “I always like to make an effort.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I can see that. What’s your name?”
“Prince,” he told her, no hint of a smile on his face.
Sienna grinned. “Prince of what?”
“Prince of darkness.”
She laughed, “Don’t tell me you’re like one of those method actors who always stays in character.”
Now he smiled, flashing those perfect teeth. “No. I come in many forms.”
Her eyes roved his chest. “I bet you do.” She dragged her eyes away, aware that she was blatantly perving. “So who do you know here? Did you come with some of Christian’s friends?”
“Oh, I know pretty much everyone,” he laughed. “But that doesn’t mean I enjoy hanging out with them. These things are always a bit much for me. I prefer things to be on a more intimate scale.”
His words rang true to Sienna. Perhaps she and this beast of a man had something in common?
“I’m the same,” she admitted. “I can’t stand big parties.”
“So let’s go somewhere more private,” he said, moving to take hold of her hand.
“Hey, no,” she said, batting his hand away. His brazenness had taken her by surprise. “I don’t like men who play dress up.”
But he leaned toward her, his breath fiercely hot against her ear. “Who said I had dressed up?”
A delicious shiver ran down her spine and settled deep in her pussy. She couldn’t deny this guy was unbelievably sexy. Even through the make-up, she could still see his luscious full lips and the depths of those amazing amber eyes. It had been awhile since she’d been laid bare in the hands of a man, and this guy seemed like a very good place in which to break her famine.
Sienna slipped her palm into his large hand and before she knew what was happening, he’d whisked her through the throngs of people and into one of the bedrooms. A pile of coats were bundled on the bed and she stood beside it, once again feeling awkward.
“Turn around,” he instructed, his eyes burning in the dim light.
Burning? How could they be burning?
But she didn’t get the chance to think about it any further because he pulled on her arm and twisted her around so she faced the bed. Her heart pounded in her chest. This was crazy! She didn’t do things like this.
Yet somehow she wanted to. She never did anything out of the ordinary and here she was, about to put herself in the hands of this bizarre but charismatic man.
He bent her over the bed and pushed up her skirt, flipping it over her back. She stood, exposed in her panties, suspenders and heels, but even this modicum of clothing didn’t last for long. His hot hands slid down the curve of her hips, catching her panties in his fingertips. In one smooth move, he rolled them down over her ass and thighs. Sienna stepped out of the ring of lace and he tossed them away.
His hot hands cupped her buttocks and his thumbs ran down the crack of her ass, dipping down into her pussy. Moisture flooded between her folds and her inner sheath clenched in anticipation. She’d never wanted to be penetrated so much in her life.
Heat radiated from his skin, burning into her back.
How could someone survive with such a fever?
Sienna ignored all the questions going through her head, lost in the sensation of his hot hands massage her sopping slit, rubbing back and forth, sliding further between her labia just a little more each time. Pleasure soared through her body, making her head spin.
She moaned and pushed her ass back, hoping he’d get the message and push inside her.
He got the message, but it wasn’t his fingers he penetrated her with.
Instead, the fat, bulbous end of his cock pushed against her pussy. Feeling how big he was, Sienna spread her legs further, opening her cunt for him.
With a single, smooth motion, he pushed inside her, filling her. Sienna gasped—she’d never been filled so completely before and her inner muscles stretched to their limits to take him.
She dropped her hands to the bed, using the support to hold herself upright.
His cock reached up inside her as though it were an individual being, writhing, stroking, twisting. It seemed to touch every part of her, like an inquisitive animal nosing against her most intimate parts.
Sienna twisted her head around to get sight of the amazing cock, thrusting in and out of her.
His hand was wrapped around his thick length, pumping himself back and forth, masturbating over her back. Sienna’s mind blurred. If he was touching himself, then what the hell continued to thrust its way in and out of her pussy with such finesse?
Her eyes widened as she saw something else reaching from between his legs; something long, and thick, and scaly.
A tail? Surely he wasn’t fucking her with a tail?!
She tried to step away, but he caught the back of her neck in one long-nailed hand, holding her still.
I’m imaging things, she told herself, unwilling to remove herself from the crazy pleasure coiling and twisting deep in her cunt. She’d never experienced anything like it before—a whole new level of being fucked.
He stomped on the ground, the sound like horses’ hooves. She glanced back to see his head tipped back, his lips parted as he revelled in his own pleasure. But just before she turned back to the bed, she caught a glimpse of something white and curved growing from his forehead—horns!
The fear she should have felt was smothered by the ecstasy racing through her body. Nobody had touched her in such a way before, as though he stimulated the essence of her soul.
To add to her pleasure, he reached around her body and his burning fingers found her swollen clit. Already engorged with arousal, the added heat and pressure of the circular motion he applied tipped her over the edge.
Suddenly her orgasm mounted through her, too powerful for her body to contain. The room swam, her consciousness washed away, battered by the storm.
Just before she lost consciousness, he leaned over and kissed the back of her neck, his lips burning her flesh, and she heard him say,
“Now you are mine.”
Sienna woke up on the spare bed, confused and disorientated. From outside the bedroom door, the sounds of the party continued—music playing, laughter, people talking. She remembered what had happened and sat up, looking around. Her lover was no longer in the room.
Remembering how he’d kissed her, she got to her feet and made her way to the mirror. A light switch was beside the vanity stand and she flicked the switch, flooding the room with light.
Sienna twisted her neck around. Reflected in the mirror, her pale skin was now branded with a red birthmark in the shape of a kiss.
Prince of Darkness, he’d told her was his name.
And now she was his queen.
Copyright © 2012 M.K. Elliott
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

The Importance of Sex in Erotic Fiction

Now this might seem like a silly topic. After all, erotic fiction is all about the sex, isn’t it? However, when a friend of mine wanted to read my latest novella, Sextraterrestrial, said she wanted to read it for the storyline but she’d skim over the sex, I realised how important the sex actually was to the story.

Okay, we all like our erotic fiction to leave us squirming in our seats or even taking part in a little one handed reading, but the sex in erotic fiction is so much more than that. When done well, it’s about growing the characters – their relationship with each other and within themselves. It’s about building trust and discovering  as side of themselves they may not have known existed before.

During sex, we’re often at our most vulnerable and exposed. It’s a time when we’re as intimate with another person as it’s possible to get.

In Sextraterrestrial, the main character, Jessie, is suffering from agoraphobia after losing her husband suddenly two years earlier. She’s confined to her house and no longer does the one thing she loves, which happens to be writing. She’s closed herself off, both physically and emotionally. It’s not until a mysterious stranger – in  the form of a hot, naked man appearing in her backyard after a lightning storm – enters her life that she allows herself to explore all the sides of herself which she’s blocked out for so long.

Would I have been able to write this book with the bedroom door closed? Yes, I would have, but it wouldn’t have been anywhere near as emotional as the book I did write.

Sextraterrestrial is now available to buy from Amazon!

Amazon US
Amazon UK

Words: An Erotic Short

Content Advisory: For Mature Readers Only.

On some occasions, they have no need for words.
He takes her to an expensive restaurant where they sit across from each other, ever the smart, sophisticated, beautiful couple. Beneath the table, she spreads her legs for him, the clingy black dress she wears riding up her slim thighs. He knows she’s not wearing panties; he watched her dress.
Above the table they continue their conversation; careers, house prices, hobbies. But beneath, he reaches out, his fingers walking their way up the length of her leg toward the wet cleft between her thighs. Using his index and forefinger, he strokes her shaven folds. He peels her open before plunging his fingers into her depths.
To the rest of the room, they continue their charade. He holds her gaze, almost challenging her to break from the act, to cry out. Hidden from view, he finger-fucks her, adding a third finger and then a forth, impaling her on his hand. The waiter comes to the table to pour them some more wine. He stills his hand, though his fingers remain embedded in her tight sheath. She offers the waiter the briefest of smiles. Her chest is flushed, the color creeping up her throat.
The waiter moves away and he continues his movements, sliding his fingers in and out. His thumb finds her clit and he hooks his fingers inward, locating the fleshy pad on the inside of her walls that he knows will send her over the edge. He works her clit in small circles, his fingers now held deep, but still moving inside her. The scent of her arousal lingers on the air and she comes fast and hard, all words failing her. Her hands bunch above the tablecloth, her eyes squeezed shut. She’s trapped inside herself, focused only on the waves of pleasures clutching her in their grip. But not a sound is uttered from her lips.
And then she comes back to him.
At home, he pushes her onto the bed, wanting to finish what he started. He clamps his hand over her mouth, preventing any words. He drives his cock hard into her pussy, pinning her arms above her head with his other hand. Only their cries and breathing fills the room as they join themselves together.
But sometimes words are needed—coarse, harsh, vulgar. He wants to hear the come from her mouth, from the sweet lips that talk so politely to strangers, but with him reveal a different kind of woman altogether.
“Oh yes,” she gasps as she kneels in front of him, his dick brushing her soft lips. “I want to taste your big, hard cock. I want you to fuck my mouth.” Her tongue flicks out, sweeping the clear drop of pre-cum from his slit. “I’m going to lick you and suck you. I’m going to make you come so hard.” She sinks her hot, wet mouth down the length of his dick and her words are muted.
He takes over. “I love it when you suck my cock. You’re so fucking good at that.”
Emboldened by his words, she goes deeper, drawing him to the back of her throat. “Suck it harder, baby. Use your tongue.”
She does as he tells her, rubbing her tongue along the flat underside. As she bobs back and forth, the tight circle of her lips creates a friction that drives him insane.
She stops before he comes, his dick slipping from her perfect mouth, and crawls up onto the bed, wiggling her heart-shaped bottom as she goes. “You can put it in any hole you want,” she entices. “My tight, wet pussy or even my ass.” She reclines on the bed and gives him a naughty smile.
He climbs on the bed with her and suspends himself above her. He applies attention to her small, jaunty breasts. Her nipples have always been slightly too large compared to the rest of her tits and he enjoys sucking their lengthened peaks to the roof of his mouth, rolling the hard nub with his tongue.
“I love it when you suck on my nipples,” she tells him, watching him with heavy-lidded eyes.
“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he says.
He moves down her body, his tongue tracing a wet trail down across her flat stomach and then pubic bone. He stops between her thighs; his tongue finding the little bud nestled below the small patch of tight curls. Her taste is so familiar to him, it could be his own.
With his tongue and fingers, he brings her close, but before she tilts over the edge, he lifts his mouth from her. “Turn over. I want to fuck you from behind.”
He likes to watch his erection slide between her swollen pussy lips, slick with her juice. He builds up his momentum, the pleasure of her hot cunt gripped tight around his erection making his head swim.
“You dirty, fucking slut,” he says. “Dirty, bitch, whore.”
And somehow these words notch everything up a level, excite them both.
“Fuck me harder,” she tells him, watching him from over one shoulder. “I want you big, hard dick to pound me so hard it hurts.”
He takes her at her word, his hands gripping her hips, his fingers moulding into her flesh. He uses her momentum to drive himself deeper, harder, faster.
“Say it!” he tells her as she slams into her, balls deep. “Tell me what a whore you are.”
“I’m a dirty little whore,” she says between gasps. “I’m your filthy little slut.”
This final admission tilts the axis and they both find their release. He comes inside her with grunts of pleasure, shooting hot steams of cum. Her pussy contracts and pulses around him and she cries out, her head hung, her back arched.
They collapse; a mass of heavy breathing, sweat-soaked skin and hot flesh. They curl together as he grows soft inside her and their breathing returns to normal. Her plants a kiss on her shoulder and pulls her against him.
And they need their words no more.
Copyright © 2012 M.K. Elliott
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Sextraterrestrial – Chapter Three!

Sextraterrestrial will be available to buy from next week! You can catch up on Chapter One and Chapter Two buy clicking on  the links.

Content Advisory: Contains explicit scenes for an 18+ reader only!

Chapter Three
Tao gathered her up in his arms and carried her into the sitting room. Gently, he placed her on the couch, her ravaged body pressed against the soft cushions. He stretched out beside her and pulled her into his arms, once again. Jessie laid her head on his smooth chest. So much time had passed since she’d been this close to a man, not since Jeremy died. The thought of him sent a pang of guilt through her. She shook the emotion off. Jeremy was dead. She hadn’t cheated on him.
Yet still this situation was hardly normal; to experience such intimacy with someone she’d only just met and in such strange circumstances.
“Who are you?” she asked, lifting her head to look at his face.
He smiled at her, “Tao.”
“Yeah, I got that bit,” she smiled back. “I guess I meant, where did you come from and why did I find you naked in my back yard.”
His eyes clouded. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean? You don’t know how you got in my back yard?”
He shook his head.                                                             
She was almost scared to ask, “Do you remember what happened to your clothes? Not that I’m complaining, of course.”
“The first thing I remember is hearing your voice. The next thing I remember is seeing you. The third thing I remember is tasting your lips.”
She shivered against him, a delicious thrill racing through her.
“All I know is you,” he finished.
“You have to have come from somewhere. Someone will be missing you.”
Alarmed, she grabbed his left hand. Thank God. No sign of a wedding ring, or even an indent or tan mark where one might have recently been.
“Perhaps we should get you to a hospital. Obviously something has happened to you for you to suffer such total amnesia.”
“I don’t have amnesia.”
Jessie sat up slightly, propping herself up on her elbow. Naked, she suddenly felt exposed, as she hadn’t before.
“But if you don’t remember who you are or where you’re from, you must be suffering from amnesia.”
“Maybe I don’t have any memories to remember.”
“Well you weren’t born in my backyard, a grown man.”
Her own memories flashed through her head, how he was naked, how he seemed unsteady on his feet. Like a newborn foal—she had thought it herself.
This was nuts.
“Tell me about yourself.” He reached down and linked his fingers through hers. “All I want to know is you.”
“You’re not going to turn out to be a lunatic are you?” she said. “Considering what we’ve just done, I’d really hate that.”
“I’m not crazy. If you want me to prove it to you, I will. I will go to this place, the hospital, if you think it might help. I’ll do what I can to make you happy.”
“This isn’t about me,” she said, but the old familiar spikes of pain speared through her, the panic clutching her heart, stealing her breath. Since Jeremy died, she’d gone no further than her own property. Going back to the hospital, to where her husband had died so suddenly, filled her with fear.
Jeremy had always been such a healthy person, which was why it had all been such a shock. He’d worked the land she now rented out, physical hard labor which kept him busy from dawn to dusk while she holed herself up in her office to write. When he came home from the corn one day complaining of a headache and dizziness and then lost consciousness, Jessie had called an ambulance. The distance they were from the local hospital had worked against him and by the time he reached the hospital, an embolism had left his lung and penetrated his brain. The doctors could do nothing more for him.
Other than Jeremy’s funeral, she’d not left the house since. She could make it into the fields surrounding her, but any further made her heart beat in a way that terrified her, her head pounding with a pressure that convinced her that the same thing would happen to her. Sometimes she thought it might be a good thing, for death to take her the same way, but ultimately she was still a coward and death terrified her.
“Why does the hospital scare you?” he asked.
“How did you know I was scared?” Her voice came out as little more than a whisper.
“I sensed it in you.”
“My husband died there,” she said. “He suffered a blood clot in his brain and he went into a coma. I had to make the decision to turn off his life support.”
Unexpectedly, her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them back. One minute Jeremy had been a strong, healthy man with his whole life ahead of him, the next he’d been reduced to nothing more than a beeping machine and a final decision.
Tao reached down and touched her damp cheeks. “Why are you doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“This… wet.”                           
“You mean crying? Why am I crying?” Jessie didn’t know whether to be alarmed or touched. In reality, she was a mixture of both. “You must be from another country,” she said, half laughing.
Tao remained silent beside her.
The sound of claws tapping on the wooden floors headed toward them and moments later, Buddy’s scraggly gray head poked around the door. The dog’s intelligent black eyes sized up the new arrival.
Jessie smiled, “Hey, Buddy.”
The dog hesitated and then trotted through the door and up to the couch. Tao reached out a hand and Buddy paused before prodding a wet nose against Tao’s palm, his tongue flicking out in a welcoming lick.
Jessie laughed, “He likes you.” Such a small thing, but the dog’s acceptance made her whole body sag with relief. She trusted Buddy to be a good judge of character.
The shrill ring of the doorbell pierced the relative peace of the house and Jessie sat up.
“Oh shit.”
Buddy ran for the door, barking in short, high-pitched yaps.
Who the hell could that be?She rarely had visitors.
Jessie ran for the kitchen to grab the clothes she’d tried to get Tao in before and scooped up her own panties and vest. Tao followed so she turned and threw the clothes at him.
“Get dressed,” she hissed.
The doorbell rang again—insistent—Buddy’s barking trying to drown out the sound. Whoever was at the door wouldn’t give up. This was a small community and everyone knew she never went out.
She couldn’t answer the door in her underwear. In a fluster, she raced to the front door and yelled through the wood, “One minute!”
Jessie ran up the stairs, two at a time, to grab a pair of sweat pants. She pulled them on and made her way back down the stairs to find Tao standing in the open doorway, her neighbor, Pamela McCarthy fawning over him.
Panic launched at her and her mind raced, thinking of ways to explain his presence.
“Pam!” she exclaimed. “You’ve met Jeremy’s cousin! He’s been living overseas for a number of years and wasn’t able to make it to the funeral. He’s just got back in the county so I offered to put him up for a while.” She felt as though she’d vomited the words, spurting them out without thinking them over first. Her cheeks flared with heat.
The older woman looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “I’ll bet you did.”
“Pamela…” Jessie warned. Pamela was known for her gossiping. In fact, Jesse wouldn’t be surprised if someone had seen or spotted something different and sent her over on a fact-finding mission.
“It’s lovely to meet you…?” she said, holding out a hard worn hand to Tao.
“Tao,” he finished off for her.               
“Tao? That’s an unusual name.”
“Like I said,” said Jessie. “He’s from overseas.”
“So he’s actually from overseas? He wasn’t just away for awhile?”
“Was there anything I can do for you?” she said, deflecting the onslaught of questions with one of her own.
The older woman patted the back of her hair. “Oh, there’s been more reports of these circles appearing in the fields, especially after last night’s lightning storm. Have you seen anything strange?”
Like a naked man in my backyard?
“No. Like what?”
“Kids messing around. We’ve got to do something to put a stop to the damage they’re causing—literally thousands of dollars worth.”
“If I’d seen anything, I would have called the cops,” she said, wanting to steer Pam away from Tao.
“Sure, honey, I know you would have. I only wanted to remind you to keep your eyes open. Most of this is happening on your land, after all.”
“Look, Pam, we’ve got plans, so if you don’t mind…”
“Oh!” the older woman said, delighted. “You’re getting out and about again.” Her eyes flicked over Tao’s musculature shape. “Good for you, girl.”
“Yeah, thanks,” she said, walking toward Pam, forcing the other woman to back up toward the front door. She finally took the hint, peering around Jessie’s small frame to catch one last goggle at Tao. Her eyes roamed his body before she finally accepted that she was getting her marching orders.
“Well, keep an eye out for anything strange,” Pam continued as she backed out of the doorway and down Jessie’s front steps. “And make sure you have a lovely time with your… visitor.”
“Thanks Pam,” she said, lifting a hand in a wave. “I’ll let you know if I see anything.”
With relief, she closed the door on both her neighbor and the rest of the world. She turned, her back against the door, to find Tao watching her with a smile playing on his lips.
“She means well,” said Jessie. “But people around here have no concept of the word, ‘private’.”
“She’s worried about something.”
“Yeah, some kids mucking around in the crops—playing at alien landings or something. I actually think they’re kind of beautiful, but then I’m not the one losing money.” Jessie narrowed her eyes at his perfectly dressed body. He seemed to be remembering how to do things again quickly enough. Even his speech was pretty much perfect.
Tao took three steps forward, closing the gap between them and scooping Jessie up.
“Hey!” she laughed. “What’s with the Neanderthal-act, carrying me around with you?”
“Do you mind?” He motioned to set her back down, but she shook her head.
“It’s weird, but good-weird.”
Her arms wrapped around his strong neck and he lowered his head to hers, capturing her mouth in a kiss. His warm, firm lips pressed against hers, teasing her lips open. She opened her mouth to him and his tongue slipped between her lips, touching hers, tasting and teasing. The kiss grew more intense and she pressed herself against his body, her breasts crushing against his broad chest. Despite having been so desperate to get them dressed, Jessie suddenly wished the clothing they wore no longer existed.
“Bedroom,” she breathed against his ear.
He carried her up the stairs, her arms still loosely slung around his neck, as though they were a newlywed couple.
“That way,” she said, motioning with her head the direction of the room. Tao grinned and tramped his way to the bedroom. He laid her out on the bed and then stood above her, his hands on his hips, his eyes roving her body. Jessie stretched out under his gaze like a cat in the sun. When he made no attempt to climb on the bed with her, she half-sat, propping herself up on her elbows.
“What are you doing… or not doing?” she asked.
“I’m just looking at you.”
“Why?” she laughed.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
“Shut up!” she said, grabbing her pillow and flinging it at him. Tao caught the pillow with one hand and threw it back at her.
“Hey! It’s like that is it?” She picked the cushion back up, heavy feathers sinking down to one end. But Tao didn’t give her a chance for a repeat attack,
In a swift move, he caught her wrist, pressing her back against the softness of the bed. His strong body eclipsed over her and she melted against the mattress. Tao’s eyes studied her face, flicking over her.
“Stop looking at me,” she whispered.
He grinned, flashing straight, white teeth. “How about less staring, more action?”
Jessie wrapped her thighs around his hips and, digging her heels into his hard ass, pressed his groin against hers. The ridge of his cock met with her mons and she ground into him, pleasure tightening deep in her pussy.
“That sounds like a plan,” she said, pulling herself up to kiss his bitable lips.
Their tongues danced, hot and moist. His lips crushed hers and their need for each other mounted. She pressed her clit against the hard ridge of his cock and he pushed back, in hard, rhythmical motion like two teenagers heavy petting, only the cotton of her sweatpants preventing him from penetrating her.
“I want to taste you,” he said in her ear.
Jessie held her breath in anticipation as Tao worked his way down her body, first kissing the delicate skin of her dellecotage, down over the top of her vest. He paused over her breasts, sucking her nipple through the thin material, his teeth grating the hard peak, leaving a dark, damp patch on her shirt.
He left her breasts and tugged up her top, kissing her stomach. His tongue dipped into the hollow of her navel, making her squirm, before heading lower. Her heart thumped as he pulled off her pants and then rolled down her panties and knelt between her legs.
With her thighs spread before him, Jessie knew she should feel utterly exposed, yet she didn’t. How could she feel so relaxed with someone who was basically a stranger?
Tao lowered his face to her pussy, but before he made contact, Jessie remembered something.
“No, wait!” she said, her hand on his hard shoulder, halting him. “We just… you know. You can’t go down there. Not until I’ve a least taken a shower.”
Still propped halfway down her body, he lifted his eyes to hers. “Nothing on you could ever taste bad.”
“Hmm, even so…” She pulled herself up the bed, away from him. “You can always join me.”
His smiled broke into a grin. “I don’t know what a shower is, but if it’s with you I think I will enjoy it.”
Jessie arched her eyebrows. “You don’t know what a shower is?”
“You didn’t write about a shower.”
“Are you telling me everything you’ve learned if from what you read on my laptop? How did you even read so fast?” Her thoughts tumbled over themselves. “How did you even know how to read if you don’t even remember what a shower is?”
“I can’t explain. I looked at the words and understood them.”
“You’re weird, you know?” she said, only half joking.
Tao grinned in response.
Jessie pushed away any sense of unease threatened to interrupt either her sense of bliss or the possibility of getting Tao’s amazing body hot and lathered in her walk-in shower.
She grabbed his hand and slipped her legs off the bed. “I don’t care. Just come with me.”
Doing as she said, Tao followed; his long, lean legs traipsing across the bedroom floor to follow her into the bathroom. Jessie leaned into the cubicle and turned on the shower. The water warmed quickly sending steam into the air as the jet drummed the porcelain floor. She turned around to find Tao had rid himself of his pants and now stood, naked, his hugely erect cock bobbing before him.
Jessie raised her eyebrows. “Wow, you certainly don’t believe in wasting any time.”
Not allowing her any more words, he stepped forward, his erection meeting her first. He reached out and hooked the bottom of her vest, pulling the material up over her head, before quickly stripping her of her panties. The swollen, smooth head of his cock nudged her flat stomach and she reached down, circling her palm around its girth. He was almost painfully hard, the skin hot against her hand. She pumped his length with slow precision. Her thumb smoothed over the slit, smearing his dick with his own secretion. Tao moaned, his face intense with concentration. She watched him, loving how she was causing this reaction in such a beautiful man.
Water continued to hammer down behind them, the room quickly filling with steam. Keeping a firm hold on his cock, Jessie stepped back, pulling her with him, into the shower.
With no other choice, Tao moved with her—literally led by his dick—and they both stepped under the big, silver circle of the showerhead. Blessedly hot water hammered down on Jessie’s shoulders and she slid her hand from his cock to reach between his legs and cup his balls. Her index finger slid along the flat base of his perineum, her fingertip grazing taut ring of his ass, eliciting a sharp intake of breath and a lurch from his cock.
Jessie dropped to her knees before him, keeping up the massage of his balls and perineum, and the occasional brush of his anus. Water drummed her back, but her face was out of the flow. His thick erection bobbed in front of her and she caught it with her other hand, steadying the perfect dome of his head at her lips.
Tao looked down at her with heavy-lidded eyes. His lips were slack with lust and as she sneaked out a tongue and lapped at his pre-cum, he gasped. She parted her lips and circled his cock, tasting salt and musk and the faint hint of her own juices. She swirled her tongue around the bell, and then ran her tongue up along the flat underside. Closing her lips around his length to create both friction and suction, she pushed lower. He was big enough that she had to adjust her jaw slightly in order to take him in.
His jaw length hair fell about his face as he looked down at her, to watch his cock moving between her lips. Water dripped from the ends of his hair and coursed down his muscular chest.
Then he could watch no longer and he closed his eyes, his head tilting back. He put out each hand and steadied himself on the glass sides of the shower, his biceps bulging with the force he exerted. Though concentrating on the job at hand, Jessie did have enough insight to worry about the glass panels shattering.
His cock began to swell in her mouth as she sucked him harder and faster. But his hand in her hair made her pause and above her he gasped, “No wait. I want to be inside you.”
Jessie slowed her movements and gave his balls a gentle tug to slow him down. While she was happy sucking him until he came, the thought of getting fucked in the shower was simply too much of a temptation.
She allowed his cock to slip from between her lips and gave its tip a quick lick before traveling back up his body. His arms wrapped around her waist and he kissed her, deep and hungry, his erection held tight between them.
Jessie reached behind his head and took the shower gel from the metal holder. She squeezed a small pool of the fruity scented gel onto his palm before doing the same to herself.
Starting at his chest, she soaped him down, running her palms, slippery and wet, over his hard muscles of his chest, the ridged of his abs, back down to his cock. Getting the idea, Tao rubbed the soap between his own palms and began to lather her up, starting by smoothing his hands across her shoulders and heading straight down to her breasts.
While she continued to massage his cock, soap slicking the way, his large hands caressed and molded her breasts, gently kneading the sensitive globes outward to pinch the nipples between his thumb and forefinger. The lubrication of the shower gel only heightened her pleasure as he pulled her nipples into firm peaks, despite the heat of the shower.
He caught her mouth in a kiss once again and every spark of pleasure soared down through her body, tightening deep at her core. Her pussy pulsed, making her even wetter than she already was, and she wanted him deep inside her.
She broke the kiss. “Now! I want you now.”
The water had already washed most of the soap away. Tao reached down, his fingers molded into the firm flesh of her ass. With his forearms supporting her thighs, he lifted her with ease. He moved forward and her back met with the cool glass of the shower cubicle.
Jessie’s legs were already spread for him, her thighs wrapped around his hips, her heels digging into his ass. Tao lifted her away from his body, allowing his cock to position between the hot, wet folds of her pussy. He held her there, the head swelling between her lips and she arched her hips forward wanting to impale herself on him.
Tao spoke, his mouth warm against her ear, “Slow.”
Though she wanted to sink her nails into the smooth skin of his shoulders and force his cock deep inside her, she did as she was told and held back.
Tao moved his hips ever so slightly so the head of his erection bumped and nuzzled her sopping slit, slipping inside her only the fraction of an inch, before rubbing against her clit and then back down again. Jessie moaned, so incredibly turned on she thought she might exploded. Their bodies were parted enough for them both to look down, watching the sight of his huge cock dip in and out of her cunt.
“I can’t,” she gasped, sure she would come without him even penetrating her fully. “I can’t hold on much longer.”
Taking her words as true, Tao finally slid home, his girth forcing her channel to open around him. He fucked her hard, all restraint gone, and her back slammed up against the side of the shower cubicle. With his strength and still holding onto her, he used his arms to piston her back and forth so she slid along the length of his cock as much as he slammed into her. Jessie gave in herself and sank her nails in deep ellipses into his skin, her face pressed against the warm, wet skin of his throat. Her breasts bounced against his chest as he continued to drive into her, harder and faster.
Her dam broke, her orgasm battering over her, making her head spin and tightening every muscle in her body. She cried out, the sound echoing in the confines of the shower. Hot water continued to rain down upon them as Tao swelled inside her and exploded, shooting his cum in several hard, desperate strokes.
Panting, she clung to him and he held her close, burying his face in her hair.
“Holy shit,” she managed when she finally got her breath back. “That was incredible.”
Carefully, Tao put her down and she stretched out her legs, her thigh and calf muscles stiff.
He reached out and touched her chin, so she lifted her eyes to his. “I love seeing you like that,” he told her.
“Yeah,” she laughed. “Well I kind of love you making me look like that.” She blushed, suddenly shy. “You know this is a whole lotta crazy, don’t you?”
He turned her around under the hot water so she had her back to him and the stream ran through her hair. She heard the click of the shampoo bottle opening and then his fingers were in her hair, massaging her scalp with firm but gentle circles and the scent of her citrus shampoo filled the air.
Jessie closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation of him washing her hair and the buzzed out, post-orgasmic glow that left her limbs feeling as though they didn’t belong to her. He rinsed out her hair, applied conditioner and started working on it with the curved comb she kept hanging from the caddy.
“There,” he said when he was done. “Now you’re perfect.”
She snorted and then checked herself—not an attractive sound. “I’m far from perfect. I’ve not gone farther than my own property in three years.”
His smooth brow furrowed, his clear blue eyes searching her face, concerned. “Why not”
“I…” But she shook her head, unable and unwilling to explain.
Every time I try to leave, my heart starts pounding and my vision goes blurry. I get a terrible pain in my head and I’m certain I’m about to die…
How could she explain that to him without him thinking she was a crazy person?
Hey! a little voice chirped in her head. You found him naked in your backyard this morning and he has no idea where he’s come from. There is no way you’re going to be the one who looks crazy.
Except perhaps for the fact she’d then brought him into her home and let him fuck her so intensely, not once, but twice now. And the worse thing was she didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want to send him away or call some authorities to come and take him. Perhaps she was insane but he felt like her own little secret, something special that had finally been given to her. Okay, he seemed to want her as much as she wanted him, and perhaps this lust had been caused by some kind of head injury, but she didn’t want this to stop.
“We’re going to go all wrinkly if we stay in here much longer,” she said, holding up her already prune-like fingers. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
She’d only managed a couple of sips of coffee so far that day and after so much exercise, her stomach was so empty it felt concave.
“Starving?”                                                             
“Yeah, you do eat, don’t you?”
He lowered his lips to her throat, the touch sending a delicious thrill across her skin. She squirmed under his attention as his lips nipped at the delicate area.
Reluctantly, she pushed him away. “I’m going to pass out from hunger and exhaustion if you don’t quit it.”
Tao straightened and flashed her an insanely sexy half-grin, flashing a dimple in his right cheek. His wet hair hung down by his cut jaw and she had to resist the urge to run her tongue across his skin.
Later, Jessie, she told herself. First, you need to eat.
Copyright © 2012 M.K. Elliott
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Sex-traterrestrial – Chapter Two!

Content Warning: Contain explicit scenes. For readers over the age of eighteen only. You have been warned!

Chapter Two
                                                    
Clutching the clothes to her body, Jessie went back to the kitchen, expecting him to be gone.
She walked in to find him standing at her laptop.
“Hey, that’s private,” she said, but he didn’t look up. His eyes scanned the screen as he scrolled through page after page, his finger held on the down key. Intense concentration imprinted his face, his brow furrowed.
Was he reading?
No, he couldn’t be. Not at such speed.
She took three strides towards him and slammed down the lid of the laptop. “I said, that’s private!”
He showed no sign of alarm, but simply raised his face to hers.           
“Is this your… words?” He seemed to struggle to speak, as if he was working out how to get his mouth around the sounds.
“What do you mean? Is that my writing?”
“This is your language?”          
She frowned, alarm racing through her. Oh God, he is a nutter. What the hell had she been thinking? Swept in by a pretty face. Then she chastised herself. He probably had a learning difficulty of some kind. Just because the guy was seriously hot, didn’t mean he was all there. Yet something about his eyes made her not believe her own excuses. When he looked at her, she saw an intelligence she’d never experienced before. How could such intelligence be combined with such total innocence and trust?
“Are you foreign?” she asked. “Do you come from another country?”
He smiled and something inside her melted. The smile touched those eyes, the edges creasing. “Something like that.”
As he spoke, the words seem to come more easily.
“Here,” she said, handing him the clothes. “What’s your name? You do have a name, don’t you?”
He spoke slowly, enunciating the syllables, “Tay—oh.”
“Tao, your name is Tao?”
He nodded.
“I’m Jessie,” she said. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
He smiled at her, holding her gaze, and she blushed and glanced away. Suddenly flustered, Jessie turned her attention back to the clothes he still hadn’t taken.
“Here,” she said, pressing them into the hand not clutching the towel.
Tao dropped the towel and Jessie glanced away again, suppressing a grin. Dear Lord, this guy had an amazing body. Fine dark hair covered his strong thighs, his bottom a perfect, pert curve. Her palms itched, wanting to run them over that peachy ass. She wanted to trace her hands over his perfectly smooth chest, her fingers tweaking the nipples that nestled there like two dark buds. Her eyes ran over the ridges of his abs and then dropped lower, taking in the line of dark hair running up from his groin, meeting his tight navel.
She shook her head slightly, trying to get the thoughts out of her head. She must have lost her God-damned mind.
Tao lifted the shirt to his chest, as if trying to cover himself in the same way he had with the towel. He made no move to put his arms through the holes or work the buttons.
Jessie gave a half-smile. “Don’t you know how to put them on?”
She lifted her hand to help him, her fingertips brushing the smooth skin of his chest, feeling the hard muscle just beneath the surface. Her breath caught, her heart hammering, and they locked eyes.
His clear, blue eyes burned into hers. Had anyone looked at her in such a way before; as if they were staring right into her soul?
He reached up and his fingers wrapped around her wrist, stilling her touch.
“Tao…” But she didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence.
He lowered his head, his warm, firm lips finding hers. She opened her mouth to him, their tongues meeting. He tasted like summer—coconut oil and honeysuckle. His tongue flicked at hers, teasing at first, but when she responded to him, kissing him with a hunger and urgency, he reacted in return. Jessie wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him, molding herself to his body.
Her vest rucked up her waist, exposing her tanned stomach. The shirt was still pressed between them, the only thing separating their skin. He grew hard against her, the thick ridge pressing against the line of her abs.
Why didn’t I think to put any clothes on in the bedroom?
Tao dropped the shirt, his hands sliding around her back and down to her ass. Her simple cotton panties barely covered the round curve of her buttocks and his palms cupped each cheek, pressing her toward him. His hands were soft against her skin, no rough calluses chafing her.
Jessie moaned into his mouth, losing herself in the kiss. It had been a long time since someone had kissed her like this, a long time since someone had touched her like this.
Sudden panic clutched her heart. What the hell am I thinking!
Jessie pressed her palms against his chest, breaking the kiss and pushing him away.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. I mean… I just found you in my yard!”
“You are beautiful,” he said, his words stilted.
“Stop it. I can’t do this. I need to call someone. The police perhaps.”
He shook his head. “No. Please. I need you to help me.”
“How? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Help me remember.”
“Shit!” she swore, turning away from him. She couldn’t look at him, standing there, naked and vulnerable imploring for her help. This man should mean nothing to her—he was just some guy who’d suddenly appeared. She should be on the phone right now, calling someone to report him, but she couldn’t stand the thought of someone arriving to remove him from her life.
His beauty overwhelmed her; had she ever seen a man so perfect? Though every instinct screamed at her to stop acting crazy, she was drawn to him. Nothing about him screamed ‘crazy person’ or ‘drunk’ or ‘drug addict’. Instead he simply seemed lost and confused and…
Aroused.                     
Yep, her eyes flicked down to his crotch. He was definitely still aroused.
He lifted a hand toward her, “Jessie.”
No longer thinking, she stepped toward him and he gathered her in his arms. The strong curve of his biceps wrapped around her and he dipped his head, catching her mouth in another kiss. Jessie softened against him and her pussy clenched in anticipation. She found herself on tip-toes, longing to press herself against the hard line of his cock. Tao obliged, lifting her slightly so they fitted together, his hardness finding the swollen nub of her clit. Sparks raced through her, making her head spin.
Jessie wrapped her arms back around his neck, melting into him. Her hands skirted the naked breadth of his back. His skin felt impossibly smooth, as soft as a child’s, contrasting with the power of the well-defined muscle beneath.
However much he had struggled to clothe himself, ridding Jessie of her vest didn’t seem to cause him such a problem. In a swift move, he broke the kiss long enough to pull the top over her head, lifting her hair with it, before allowing her hair to drift back around her naked shoulders. He dropped the vest to the floor, exposing her naked breasts.
Her small, but perky tits throbbed, aching to be touched. This time Tao didn’t seem to know what she wanted.
He turned her around, pressing her over the kitchen island.
“Oh,” she gasped, her breasts pressing into the cool granite counter. Her nipples hardened into buds, sensitized still further by the cold surface.
His hands were at her waist, his palms skirting down over hips, across her ass. He cupped each cheek in his hands, as if weighing them up. Jessie moaned, her pussy slick with cream, dampening her panties.
This was madness, but for once Jessie wasn’t thinking. She wanted to feel him everywhere, give over every last part of her; his mouth, his cock, his body pressed hard against her. Deep, hard fucking that would release a pain buried so deep. Something she’d not gone near since her husband had died.
Slowly, he rolled her panties down, over the round, firm curve of her bottom, her toned, slender thighs, dropping them to the floor. She stepped out from their pooled circle.
He splayed her legs and parted her buttocks, exposing the pink star of her ass, her wet folds. It was as if he was studying her, taking in every last inch of her.
What the hell am I doing?
He dropped to his knees and his mouth was on her, his hot tongue pressed into the tight pucker of her ass. “Oh God,” she groaned as the stimulation caused her most internal muscles to pulsate.
Jessie’s thighs trembled beneath her.
With firm, strong strokes of his tongue, he penetrated her, pushing past the tight ring of muscle. He slipped his tongue in and out, sending crazy sparks of arousal, tightening deep in her pussy.
Jessie’s hands gripped the edges of the counter, her knuckles white. Pleasure soared through her body and she moaned, her head lowered as he lavished attention on her.
Using both hands, he spread her cheeks further apart increasing the intensity, her sensitivity. She pushed her ass out toward him, wanting more. Every part of her mind screamed at her that she shouldn’t be doing this, but her body wanted him with every inch. Too much time had passed since she’d been touched like this—if she’d everbeen touched like this—and she didn’t want it to stop.
But he lifted his mouth from her ass and she had to stop herself wilting in disappointment. Then his chest pressed against the line of her back and his cock pushed between the folds of her sopping pussy.
Jessie pushed back and the perfect bell of his dick pushed just an inch inside her, enough to stretch her muscles and feel the ridges of him as her muscles tightened, trying to pull his cock inside her.
He kissed the back of her neck, and oh, so slowly, sank his length balls-deep. They stilled like that for a moment, relishing in the feel of togetherness, in being totally held by another person. Just as slowly, Tao pulled out again, almost slipping from her body, before driving back in. The beautiful length of his cock nudged her cervix, shooting a mixture of pain and pleasure through her body.
He placed his hands back on her ass, using his grip on her buttocks to drive himself, deeper, faster. His thumb grazed her asshole and the sensation caused every muscle to clench, gripping down hard on Tao’s dick. Getting the message, he slicked her with her own moisture and his saliva, and pushed his thumb into the tight channel of her ass.
Jessie cried out with pleasure as he built his momentum, his thumb held deep in her ass, his cock slamming in and out of her swollen pussy. Her tits bounced as he banged her, her hard nipples grazing the cold granite of her counter.
She reached her peak and then he titled her over the edge by placing a kiss right behind her ear, in the most sensitive spot.
Her orgasm powered through her, rippling her most intimate muscles, clamping down on Tao’s cock and milking him. He clung to her as his own orgasm clutched him and he jerked in hard, forceful movements as he filled her.
Spent, he nuzzled her neck and Jessie slumped against him, exhausted. Though they remained stood, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her body firm against his while he grew soft inside her. Jessie’s thighs shook—feeling weak and tremulous—and she allowed him to hold her upright. Gradually, her heart rate returned to normal and she caught her breath. Tao’s cock slipped from her body, his seed and her juices spilling down the insides of her thighs.
She knew she should be questioning her own sanity right now, allowing herself to be fucked across the kitchen counter by a man she’d just found naked in her yard. But standing in the ring of his arms, his skin warm against hers, his heartbeat thumping against her back, she’d never felt so at ease.





Copyright © 2012 M.K. Elliott
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

‘Sex-traterrestrial’: Chapter One!

Chapter One

Lightning ripped, ragged through the night sky.
For the briefest of moments, the countryside lit up before her. The strange, flattened shapes in the corn seemed darker and more eerie than they had under the scorching Oklahoma sun.
Standing at her bedroom window, Jessie McLeod couldn’t tear her eyes from the scene before her. Electrical storms were common around these parts, but she’d never seen anything like this. The day had been clear and bright, and, even now, no storm clouds hung fat and low in the sky. Yet still, the lightning continued, jagged forks splitting the sky right down to the horizon, combined with continuous, strobe-like flashes which left her blinking against their strength.
At her feet, her dog, Buddy, whimpered, his body pressed up against her legs.
“Hush, boy,” she said, reaching down to stroke his scraggly fur. “It’s only lightning.”
Jessie wished she had someone she could turn to; someone she could exclaim, ‘Wow, have you ever seen anything like this before?’ and actually get an answer.
Unconsciously, her eyes flicked to the photograph on the bedside table, the blond, shaggy-haired man with the blue eyes, his arm wrapped around a brunette, both with relaxed, happy smiles on their faces. Jessie tore her gaze away from her own image, pain stabbing through her afresh. Two years had passed now, yet still the pain hit her, unexpectedly, winding her, leaving her gasping for breath.
I’ll leave, Jessie told herself for the thousandth time. She would go to a city—a town at least—and find herself a nice little house with neighbors who were less than three miles from her.
The thought of being in a city, surrounded by people, sent pain spiking through her soles as her body flooded with adrenaline. For a moment, she swayed, unsteady on her feet, before she got hold of herself.
She told herself she stayed in the big farmhouse because the isolation was good for her writing, but the truth was she’d not written anything new since Jeremy passed. Only the backlog of manuscripts on her laptop kept her nosy editor and agent from her door. As far as they were concerned, as long as she still produced a new manuscript for them every six months, then all was well. How were they to know the books she’d been delivering were all several years old?
Jessie sighed and turned her attention back to the storm.
She realized something and frowned. No thunder. Had she ever seen such lightning without the roll and crash of thunder following? Was such a thing even possible? It must be, she decided. After all, that was exactly what she was seeing.
Fields of crops stretched out before her, maize, wheat, barley. She didn’t farm the fields herself, but rented them out to a local farmer who made better use of them then she ever would. He’d been pissed lately because kids had been mucking around, creating flattened shapes in the crops. He’d told her to watch out for them, but she’d no idea what she was supposed to do should she see someone. She’d seen no signs of anybody and doubted she’d do anything if she did. Life weighed her down lately and sometimes it was all she could do to get her ass out of bed and into the shower.
The shapes contained a certain symmetrical beauty; a semi-circle with increasingly smaller circles dotted around its perimeter. Another like a labyrinth, with a circle containing an intricate pattern in the centre. Jessie understood the farmer’s dismay—each sheath of corn, so precisely flattened, had been ruined—yet for Jessie the shapes created a point of focus when she looked out across the seemingly never-ending expanse of dusty yellow crops. Despite the obvious vandalism, their curves and precision were striking.
The night drew on. Though she had nothing to get up for in the morning, she was constantly tired. Sleep came easily, but left just as quickly. Often, she found herself wandering the house at four a.m. knowing she would never get back to sleep again, simply waiting for the morning to come. Even so, she kept to her routine—in bed before midnight—and the witching hour was fast approaching.
Her small lamp cast a soft glow across the room. She shed her clothes as she headed toward the bed, popping the button of her jeans and pulling the pants down her long, slender thighs. Wearing only her panties and vest, she slid beneath the cool sheets. Jessie reached out a hand and flicked the switch on her lamp.
Instead of plunging the room into darkness, the lack of light only served to increase the drama of the lightshow happening outside. Her thin, cream drapes did little to block out the lightning
I’ll never get to sleep with this going on, she thought. But even as the words crossed her mind, she sank into the arms of sleep.
Jessie blinked awake, pale morning sunlight filtering into the bedroom. Her eyes flicked to the small bedside alarm clock, which she never needed to use. Five-fifteen. Another forty-five minutes and she could tell herself it was morning.
She rolled over, her hand straying to the empty space where her husband used to lie. So much time had passed, yet she’d still kept to her side of the bed, curled up on her side like a fiddlehead. The other white pillow lay smooth and flat, no imprint of a head denting its centre.
Closing her eyes again, she willed sleep to return. Sometimes her dreams were of happier times, when Jeremy had been alive and they were simply excited about their future and were busy planning their lives together. Thirty-three had been too young for him to die. Twenty-nine was too young to become a widow. Sleep, when it came, offered her an escape from the empty expanse of her days, but it eluded her.
With a sigh, Jessie opened her eyes and pushed herself to sitting. Though still exhausted, she knew she was up for the day. What she needed now was coffee and lots of it.
The hour was still young, but already there was heat to the new day. Jessie’s thin cotton vest clung to her curves, her perky breasts and flat stomach unintentionally highlighted in the skimpy outfit. She’d grown slim over the passing years.
Jessie headed into the kitchen. Buddy sat at the kitchen door, his back to her and ears pricked, and didn’t even acknowledge her entering the room.
She frowned. Normally Buddy was all over her, as though he’d not seen her for a month instead of just a few hours.
“All right, Buddy,” she said, addressing the dog. “I’ll let you out in a minute. Mommy needs caffeine.”
Jessie piled coffee granules into the espresso machine, followed by fresh water. The machine boiled and hissed as it brewed her much needed caffeine injection.
Taking her coffee, she went to the backdoor and opened it, letting the dog out. But Buddy didn’t move—only sat, frozen in the doorway.
“Go on, Dummy,” she said, nudging him with her foot. “What are you waiting…” Her words tailed off and her breath caught in her chest.
Someone was in her yard.
With a pounding heart, she stepped out of the doorway. A man lay curled up beside her pool, naked, his skin glistening in the early morning dew. Curled up upon himself, his knees tucked into his chest, his arms wrapped around her legs. She took in the firm muscles of his ass, the strong length of his thighs. His skin was pale, his arms and legs covered in a fine down of dark hair. Though she couldn’t see his face, his hair was so dark it was almost black, and stuck wildly from his head.
Goosebumps prickled her skin, yet his naked flesh stirred something deep inside her, something she’d thought had long since died.
Don’t get distracted, girl, she admonished herself. The guy is either a lunatic or a drunk.
She pulled open the nearest drawer and rummaged around, her fingers searching for a weapon, her eyes never leaving the naked stranger on her property.
Her hand closed around a long barbeque fork that hadn’t been used since Jeremy died. She pulled the fork out, its two sharp prongs glinting in the early sunlight.
Tightening her grip around the wooden handle, she gritted her teeth and braced her shoulders. Jessie burst from her back door, onto the porch.
“This is private property,” she yelled. “Get the hell out of my yard or I’m calling the cops.”
At the sound of her voice, the body on the patio stirred. Jessie’s heart lurched, blood rushing through her ears. What would she do if he rushed her? Would she really have the guts to stab him?
Like a fern, the man unfurled, his head rising to look at her with sleepy, blinking eyes. She took in his full mouth, straight nose and strong jaw, but his catalogue model good-looks weren’t the thing that focused her. Instead, it was his eyes that caught her attention. Something about those eyes made her falter. Their blue depth held no menace; she felt more as if she were watching a child wake.
“Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?” she shouted again, brandishing the fork. She wondered why she was even asking—shouldn’t she be on the phone already?
At the sound of her shouts, the man didn’t flinch. The corners of his full lips twitched and he tilted his head to one side, as if taking her in.
She noticed he shivered. Despite the early warmth of the day, the man was cold.
Suddenly, Jessie realized she stood, wearing only panties and a thin vest, her nipples poking through the material. Self-consciously, she folded one arm across her breasts.
In front of her, the man continued to unfurl. Right before her eyes, he stood, naked. His cock nestled against his balls, framed by a thick thatch of dark curls.
“Jesus!” she exclaimed, shocked, embarrassed, trying desperately not to look. “Cover yourself up.
Towels hung from the washing line stretched across her yard and she grabbed one, throwing it at him. He watched as the towel hit his legs, making no move to try to catch or pick it up.
Jessie twisted her head away, trying to suppress the smile threatening to spread across her face.
“Pick up the towel, damn it,” she said, pointing to the rectangle of twisted cotton. She almost laughed, “You can’t just wander around without any clothes on.”
Sneaking glances, she saw him finally glance down at the pile of cotton at his feet. He looked back up at her and seemed to realize what she wanted. Bending down, he picked up the towel and held it over his perfectly proportioned groin.
“Thank God for that,” she said, allowing her gaze to fall back on him. Still, his body was beautiful; curved pecks with dusky nipples, a line down the center of his stomach, running between several rows of abs. His shoulders were broad and strong, his biceps cut without being overly muscular. If she had of asked someone to create a perfect male specimen, this would be it.
Jessie gave her head a slight shake.
She really shouldn’t be thinking like this about some strange man who had shown up, naked, in her back yard.
He lifted his gaze, his blue eyes settling upon hers. He still shivered, his body trembling.
She stepped closer, expecting a wave of alcohol fumes to wash over her. But none came; he smelled like cut grass and vanilla. Whatever he was, he wasn’t a drunk.
Drugs, maybe, she thought. But this was hardly drug country. The biggest city was miles from here. Again she was brought back to his eyes; he didn’t have the expression of someone who was spaced out.
Before she knew what she was doing she said, “You look cold. Why don’t you come inside and I’ll find you something to wear.”
He took unsteady steps toward her. It didn’t matter that he had turned up in her yard in the middle of the night. He didn’t look as if he could harm anything. Despite the appearance of his perfectly toned, strong physique, he also seemed weak and fragile, like a newborn deer learning to walk.
Jessie backed away, stepping back through her back door and into the kitchen. The strange man followed. Buddy yapped at him a couple of times, while backing out of the kitchen door and disappeared. She heard the scrabble of his claws on the wooden floor as he scurried upstairs.
“I think I should get you some clothes. You don’t have any nearby, by any chance, do you?”
He raised his eyebrows at her, a hint of a smile adorning his handsome face, but didn’t seem to understand anything she said.
“Okay, just wait here.” She put her hands out in front of her, steadying him like a horse.
Jessie turned and rushed out of the room. Would he be there when she got back? Maybe he’d clear out her purse and leave.
She went to her bedroom and opened the closet. All of Jeremy’s shirts still hung from their hangers, his pants still neatly folded in the drawers, his socks still balled together. No one knew she still had all his old things. When her parents—who lived miles away and didn’t really give a shit about her anyway—asked, she told them she’d donated everything to charity. They’d never know the difference. They’d made it down here for the funeral, but in their minds they’d done their part.
She pulled down a short-sleeved, blue and white shirt and a pair of jeans. They might be a little snug on this guy—Jeremy had been smaller by about two inches and thirty pounds—but considering his body, she didn’t think she’d mind them being a bit tight. She smiled at this and then reprimanded herself. She shouldn’t be thinking such things, especially not when he was about to be dressed in her dead husband’s clothes….
~*~
Copyright © 2012 M.K. Elliott
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.