Sexy Snippets for February

by | February 19, 2017 | Sexy Snippets | 9 comments

Greetings, Authors!

At this point, Valentine’s Day is just a sweet, hot memory. However, you can help keep the erotic fires burning through February. Today’s the day for sharing 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. No extra promo text, please!

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

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

Of course I expect you to follow the rules. One snippet per author,
please. If your excerpt is more than 200 words or includes more than one
link, I’ll remove your comment and prohibit you from participating
in further Sexy Snippet days. I’ll say no more!

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


~ Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai

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


  1. Rachel de Vine

    An excerpt from The Artist, by Juliette Banks (Me)
    He wanted to get back in the studio and look again at Lizzie's soft, luscious body, even if it did send him mad with desire. The sooner the painting was finished, the sooner he could make an attempt on her virtue.
    He prepared his palette while Lizzie disrobed behind the screen. She modestly tucked her undergarments beneath the dress, which was flung over the screen, so that they were not on view. Theo smiled to himself, as just the day before she had spread her drying clothes on the bushes behind the house. He found her idiosyncrasies rather sweet and appealing.
    He watched as she removed her robe and placed it on the end of the couch on which she lay to pose. He caught a glimpse of her beautifully rounded bottom before she lay down on her side, facing him. He went, as usual, to slightly move her legs so that they were in the required position and longed to run his fingers through the soft curls that nestled between her soft, white thighs. He almost groaned in frustration. The girl was driving him insane.
    Buy Link:

  2. Jade A. Waters

    Excerpt from The Assignment, by Jade A. Waters:

    Dean lowered his lips to mine, and he had to catch me when I tumbled backward. Then it was a race—Dean slamming the door and yanking me against him, his hands cupping my ass, his mouth taking mine in a more masterful kiss than he’d bestowed me with before dinner.

    I sucked in a breath, lost in the movements, the force of his lips. His body overpowered me, a mass of muscle that smothered and caressed. I rocked up my hips and he groaned, one hand sliding between my cheeks and the other gripping my waist, my back and my shoulder. When he twined his fingers in my hair, he jerked back my head.

    “Wait,” he said. I froze, my lips parted.

    What the fuck? “I—”

    “Shh.” Dean tightened his hold on my hair, and my heart pounded loudly. He pulled my head farther back, exposing more of my neck. “Fuck, you’re irresistible. I just want to slow down and take you all in.”

    I’d never had a man look at me as entranced as Dean did now, and it made my knees wobble. He jarred every nerve when he breathed down over my face.
    Buy link:

  3. Jean Roberta

    Excerpt from The flight of the Black Swan: A Bawdy Novella by Jean Roberta:

    I didn’t need to ask which man would be my first. “Emily, darling,” said Roger, approaching me with arms outspread. He scooped me into his embrace and lifted me off my feet. He raised me until my face was even with his, then he kissed me with all the restrained passion that any female lover of novels might hope for.
    Laying me in his hammock, Roger smiled at Martin, who still stood with my clothes in his arms like a laundress. “Come on, man,” said my husband. “Don’t deprive her of your favors.”
    As Roger left burning kisses down my throat to my breasts, holding me close, I felt Martin stroking my legs, moving higher up my thighs until his fingers were in the curly hair that barely covered my moistening cleft. Seemingly on impulse, Martin pushed his nose right into my wetness as though my nectar were as necessary to him as milk to a baby. “Don’t be afraid, dear,” he told me, although he had no reason to think me reluctant.

  4. Annabelle Brito

    Excerpt from Perils of Paul: Consequences by Valerie Whip and Me (illustrator):

    She asked me to walk around the room to show the girls what a nice body I had. It was interesting the way the short skirt swished about. I noticed that the heels made me sort of sash-shay as I walked. I could feel the nylon thigh highs rub against each other and the silk thong tighten up around my balls. When I returned to the center by the chair my sister put a pastel pink blindfold over my eyes.

    “Okay, now for the next name Paul,” my sister said.

    I fumbled in the bowl and handed my sister the next name.

    “Nikki” she shouted. I heard someone come up next to me and then everyone either shrieked or laughed. There was some delay and then everyone applauded. My sister guided me around to the back of the chair and asked me to lean over and place my head on the seat. This of course positioned my ass high in the air much to the amusement of the ladies.

    Next I felt the thong being pulled down my legs and off my ankles. My sister twirled the thong around in the air which received more laughter.

  5. Pete Symes

    Excerpt: Finally Cynthia Kindle Edition
    by Pete Symes (Author)

    The vision of Cynthia, braless, pantieless, and standing in front of the mural that the city lights paint at night had my heart skip a beat even in recall. Indeed had me transfixed. It seemed the only color in the dimly lit room that night was her shocking red hair. That carefully tossed smear of red on the top of her head never failed to arouse me. That night it immolated me.

    My tongue led the charge when our lips met, my hands had her behind hoisted onto the back of the sofa, and Cynthia fumbled with my zipper as we kissed feverishly. Passionately I felt her hand lower the gate with her demeanor and breathing becoming rash as her hand wrapped around my rising beast. I threw my head back and arched my spine as she guided me into her wantonness.

  6. Nikky Kaye

    Excerpt from "Don't Think Twice" by Nikky Kaye

    It was a good thing the wall was there to hold me up. With one arm around my waist and his other hand toying with my entrance, he rendered me limp as I gulped back whimpers of arousal. I kissed him hard, sucking his lower lip between my teeth because it was the only part of him I could take inside me at that moment. My palms ran over the muscles of his shoulders and the top of his chest, my fingertips skimming the cords of his neck.

    He was so close—too close, yet not close enough. I clutched him around his upper arms and spun us around so he was against the wall.

    “Want you,” he grunted. “Again.”

    His urgency was almost primal, his fingers flying against me. Dizziness overwhelmed me as my need for him dripped down my inner thighs.

    “God, yes—I mean, okay.” I inhaled sharply as his thumb grazed over my clit without mercy.

    I squeezed my eyes shut and let the swift orgasm hobble me. It pulsed at my core, making me weak in the knees and grateful for his other hand firmly under my butt.

    Will grinned at me. “You’re so fucking gorgeous when you come for me. I want to see every way I can make it happen.”

  7. Dale Cameron Lowry

    Usually with a third, we would have hinted a preference to go to his room. There’s something to be said about keeping the bed you share as a couple private. But it didn’t occur to us to ask. In fact, Ken had lined the shelf above the headboard with all our sexual accessories before we’d left for the spa. For whatever reason, we’d both made the assumption that Jason was an exception to the rule.
    We’d had a few exceptions before, but not many.
    It was no time before the three of us were naked again and tangled on our bed. “You two are so hot.” Jason signed it the way Ken had taught him in the hot tub. It was ten times better than his signing from the day before.
    Jason was long and angular, his hip bones jutting out in sharp peaks, the ridges of his spine sometimes visible when he moved. He wasn’t scrawny, though, or skeletal. His chest had definition and his ass was both plump and firm, like two halves of a peach. I parted them, running my finger down the shadowy crevice until I came to the clenching asterisk.

  8. Janelle Reston

    From "Seventy-Seven Seconds" in Going Down: A House of Erotica Collection:

    “Come on, Lucy. I dare you.” Amber’s grey eyes had this way about them where they could look both cold and hot at the same time. They made my skin shiver and my insides melt.
    “You’re crazy,” I said. “The elevator is glass. Anyone could see us.”
    “That’s what makes it a dare.” Her hand slid up my dress where we sat side by side on the end of our hotel bed, mid-afternoon sun slicing across our legs. She was smiling, and the sharp points of her eyeteeth showed. She was a dangerous woman. It’s why I couldn’t resist her.

  9. adamarotti

    "Potiphar's Wife," by Adam Arotti

    Joseph’s breath caught at the vision of loveliness displayed before him.

    Her golden body lay on the bed, glistening in scented oil. Her hair was free of its usual clasps, her tresses arranged artfully on the pillow beneath her head. Her wrists and ankles were bedecked in golden bands, and a golden collar adorned her neck, with a single ring over her throat. A second pillow was positioned beneath her hips, raising her soft pubic mound for his inspection and access. Her lush breasts pooled on her chest, quivering with her every movement.

    His master’s wife was the very embodiment of desire.

    She slowly removed his robe, dropping it in a heap on her bed. Then, throwing her arms around Joseph’s neck, she pressed her lips against his, allowing her tongue to explore his lips, darting between them teasingly, playfully prying them open.

    As they kissed, she lowered herself back onto the bed, pulling him on top of her. She spread her thighs wide, wrapping her legs around his waist. She was practically delirious with the pleasure of it, overwhelmed by his closeness, the intimacy of his manhood seeking her entrance.

    "Joseph, my love. Do it. Make me yours."

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Hot Chilli Erotica


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