Sexy Snippets for July

by | July 19, 2014 | Sexy Snippets | 33 comments

Published anything sexy lately? Today’s your day to share your erotic visions. Today we want to read your Sexy Snippets!

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

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

follow the rules. If you post more than 200 words or more than one
link, I’ll remove your comment and ban you from participating in further
Sexy Snippet days. So play nice!

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

Have fun!

~ Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai

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


  1. Ayla Ruse

    How could he? How could he tease her body in such a way then stand back as if nothing had happened? And he was a pirate, for bloody sake. He should…

    “Wait.” She spun around to him. “You are a pirate.”

    “I believe that’s a given. Now get dressed.”

    “But pirates are supposed to ravish women. Aren’t you going to take me? I am naked.”

    He laughed, the sound rich and deep and so unexpected that her anger grew.

    “A feisty, naked virgin. I have to say, this is a first for me. And yes, you are tempting, but my goal is higher, sweet one.” He stroked her cheek.

    “No. You have to ruin me.”

    “I do?”

    “Yes. I cannot leave until you make love to me.”

    His chuckle grew grim and he stepped close. “Your uncle mentioned you were headstrong, sí? But here, I make the rules. And the rules are, one, you will get dressed or I will carry you out of here as you are. Two, I don’t make love. I fuck my women. And the women I fuck are just that—not little virgin girls trying to be more than they are.”

    196 words from Temptation Released by Ayla Ruse

  2. Kate Hill

    This was the way to start the day. Nothing felt better than standing here, warm after a shower, wearing nothing but a towel while the most gorgeous man in the universe approached her from behind.

    Rock's arms slid around Geri and he nuzzled her neck while holding her close to his hard, damp body. She closed her eyes and leaned against him.

    Fear tainted this romantic moment.

    Tonight Rock and his twin brother Iron would fight in a gladiatorial match, a top form of entertainment on Alpha Island. Here on the female-dominated planet Amazurn, alpha males were banished to one of four islands where many men survived as gladiators or prostitutes. To a recently arrived Earth woman like Geri, Amazurn took some getting used to. If not for Rock, she wasn't sure how she would have survived here without losing her sanity.

    Rock tugged off her towel and let it drop to the floor. Their nude bodies pressed close and his stiffening cock pressed against Geri. He caressed her hips then cupped her breasts. She sighed with pleasure as his thumbs swept over her nipples, awakening them.

    Alpha Delicious by Kate Hill

  3. Scarlet Day

    From Leashed (Shifter Sanctuary – Book 1) by Scarlet Day

    A throat cleared behind Laci. She’d almost forgotten that Tucker was in the room. She broke the kiss and pulled back from Colt, but kept her gaze locked with his. Footsteps sounded behind her, and then a hand slid up her back. Colt glanced over her shoulder as Tucker moved around into her field of vision.

    A satisfied grin spread across Tucker’s face. “So, Colt, do you still want to hit me?”

    Colt leveled a narrowed gaze at Tucker. “Maybe later.” His voice held humor and one side of his mouth turned up slightly.

    Tucker chuckled and took the glass Colt still held, before crossing the room to the small bar. “Do you want another?”

    Colt’s head swiveled slowly from side to side. “That’s not what I’m in the mood for right now.”

    Tucker barked a short laugh. He poured himself a double shot of whiskey. “Then let’s see if we can figure out what you are in the mood for.”

  4. Ashe Barker

    I roll onto my back, the fluttering in my stomach now quite uncomfortable. I am seized by an unaccountable urge to reach down and stroke the soft, sensitive folds between my thighs, a place I have seldom explored since my marriage to Giles. Apart from anything else, I’m usually too sore to want to bother. Will I be sore after the pirate’s done with me? Maybe I could ask him…
    Jesus, where did that ridiculous notion come from? Ask him? Ask him indeed!
    A lady does not ask that sort of thing of any man, not even her husband. And definitely not a handsome, charming pirate intent on seduction. But just the thought of what tomorrow might bring is causing my juices to flow yet more freely, and my pussy to spasm in a most uncharacteristic manner. I close my eyes, my sigh deep. I wish he had not left, I wish he might return this night. I wish I had not feigned sleep. If I hadn’t, he might have climbed in beside me and even now be demonstrating the truth of his promises.

    184 words from Right of Salvage by Ashe Barker

  5. Jane Leopold Quinn

    From A Promise at Dawn –

    “Faye,” he began, shifting his body over hers.

    She sighed and opened her eyes.

    He didn’t waste any time. Through eyes barely open, he watched her lashes close, watched her lips part. He kissed her softly. With light touches and delicate sips, he tasted the sweet stickiness of the apple on her lips.

    She didn’t respond. It wasn’t a rejection. It just wasn’t a response.

    He braced his hands on either side of her shoulders, holding himself off her breasts so the only place their bodies met was their lips. It took all his control to go slowly.

    At first she didn’t touch him. Then at the same time she began to kiss him back, she placed her palms on his chest, their warmth and pressure highly arousing. She slid her arms around him and slowly pulled him down on top of her.


    He took that for permission and rolled to his back, taking her, draping her over his body. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand cupping her head lightly, giving her the opportunity to break away if she didn’t like it. She stayed, and he deepened his kiss.

    Thank you!

  6. K. Piet

    Dorian grinned as his fingers tangled in the long fringe of hair partially obscuring his latest conquest's face. The university student's face didn't really matter, but his hair was interesting, something new with its bright streaks of red and blue and pale blond. The boy was practically channeling the Union Jack as he slid down Dorian's body, making the leather seats of Dorian's car creak. Dorian smiled to himself. Jack was as good a pet name as any. The vibrant colored strands brought out the paleness of Dorian's skin, and he spared a vain thought for his own elegance before pulling Jack's lips down over the bulge in his slacks. The tug of his hand was met with resistance, though, and the boy's lust-darkened eyes met his.

    "Professor…" Jack breathed. Dorian knew that tone all too well. It meant the boy was trying to keep himself in check. Religious values, perhaps, or maybe just a battle against the taboo of fucking around with a teacher—or, more accurately, guest lecturer. Either way, Dorian knew the plea beneath those words. Jack was begging to be overpowered, to be left without a choice. A mere gesture, and the boy could be his, but Dorian relished the conquest.

    From "Immortal Symphony: Overture" by S.L. Armstrong & K. Piet

  7. lmsomerton

    199 words from A Double-Edged Sword by L M Somerton

    Belatedly remembering that the door stood wide open, he hurriedly pulled it closed and took a couple of steps into the room.
    Christian was displayed in front of him in a way that had his cock fighting to escape his leathers. I’m being punished, that’s what’s going on here. This is some kind of penance for being a crappy Dom. I’m hard as fucking granite, trapped in a room with the most gorgeous sub ever created and I can’t fuck him. Well, not yet anyway. Later. Definitely. Becket pulled himself together with an effort and let his eyes feast on the vision in front of him.
    Christian’s arms were spread wide above his head, his wrists wrapped in leather cuffs attached to silver chains hanging from the ceiling. His legs were also spread wide, the short chains from his ankle cuffs linked to eyelets embedded in the stone floor. Every limb was stretched, every muscle defined. He was virtually naked—his only garment a snowy white G-string. His heels were off the floor and his arms took most of his weight. A strip of white silk was tied around his eyes, bright against the dark red of his hair.

  8. David Salcido

    "How was the hunting today, lover?" Sultry, girlish, haunting. Soft Aegean breezes whispering through ancient corridors.
    Desmond tossed the bag containing the demon's head onto the counter. "Too easy. What's for dinner?"
    "Well," she answered, coming up behind him and coiling her arms around his waist. "I was hoping we could go out."
    Desmond batted at the tiny tongues flicking against his ear and neck. "Damn it, Scylla. I'm tired and I just want to take a shower, eat something and maybe catch the news before I go to bed. Is that so hard to understand?"
    She released her hold on him and stepped back, pouting. Desmond turned to look at her and immediately felt like a heel. She'd obviously gone to great lengths to doll herself up for him. The shimmery green dragonskin dress she wore seemed to hang from perfect nipples, accentuating her natural curves all the way down to her carefully painted toes and matching sandals. The thousands of tiny snakes that served as her hair had been trained into a fetching cascade of barely contained nervous energy over her left eye.
    He smiled guiltily, giving in to the preternatural spell that was this particular Gorgon's specialty.

    200 words from the short story “Enter The Gorgon,” by David Salcido, which appears in the e-book “Dimensions of Desire.”

    • Jean Roberta

      Adorable! I've always thought the Gorgons got a bad press.

  9. Lisabet Sarai

    Some great excerpts today! Wonderful variety!

    A couple of tips and reminders:

    1) To format your snippet for easy reading, single space it, and use two returns between paragraphs.

    2) Don't post too many words or more than one link. I have deleted one comment for breaking this rule.

    3) You can make your link "clickable" by surrounding it with an HTML "anchor" tag. Here's an example:

    <a href=""></a&gt;

    The "href" part specifies the actual full URL. It must start with "http://&quot; or "https://&quot; and be enclosed in quotes. The stuff between the "a" and "/a" is what readers will see. If you have a long URL, you can just put (for instance) "Amazon" or "my website" or whatever.

  10. Leya Wolfgang

    I'm a day late to the party. I hope that's alright.

    “Put your palms on the table, Alison.” I stare at him open-mouthed because the command is so strange. And it definitely is a command. “Don’t argue. Just do it.” There’s a ferocious intensity, almost a growl, in his tone. My hands fly up to comply. Alphonse places my left hand over my right. He circles his fingers around both of my wrists and clenches.

    “Stop it.” I start to struggle, but he crushes his fingers tighter and pushes my hands harder against the table.

    “Look around, ma belle. See what kind of place your friend sent you to.” Now accustomed to the low lighting, the first thing I see is a stage in the center of the room.

    “Oh, I didn’t know there would be entertainment. Fabulous! What kind of music?”

    “I doubt you will think the sounds to be music. Look around you, Alison, at the other patrons.” At the next table is a blond man wearing all black leather. Sitting next to him is a blond woman wearing a red corset and what looks like tap pants. What?! She’s not sitting; she’s kneeling to his right, at his feet. My eyes jump to the next table.

    Excerpt from Paris Light by Leya Wolfgang, a short story in the soon-to-be-published anthology from the 2014 BDSM Writers Conference in New York, August 21-24. If you'd like to attend, visit Hope to see you there.

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