Swap — If You Can't Handle the Heat — Sin Bin

Thursday 5 July 2018

July Sale @Smashwords Enjoy @SexyLittlePages Anthologies at 50% savings!

I'm fortunate to be in two of these anthos
Sacred & Profane: Priest Erotic Romance
Love & Lust in Space

Sin Bin
H K Carlton

(mf, erotic, romance)
When Daunté Bennifetto left to attend seminary, he never intended to return to the small town he’d grown up in, but it would seem God had other plans. After Father Eton’s sudden death, Daunté finds himself in charge of his childhood parish and all of its parishioners, including Camillah Lima, the woman he can’t seem to forget.

The wild, spirited girl he remembers hasn’t changed a bit, headlining at a club as an exotic dancer.

When Camillah’s mother asks Daunté to intervene, he can’t seem to stay away. Night after night Father Bennifetto finds himself worshiping at Cammie's feet, in a club appropriately named, the Sin Bin.

Naughty Nauts
H K Carlton

(mfm, sci-fi, erotic, romance)

Astronauts Sawyer Hatcher and Bennedict Scott have just set the record for consecutive days in space.

It's Jessa MacArdle's job to observe their day-to-day condition. Living in microgravity can take a toll on not only the body but also the mind. As their time on the ISS lengthens both nauts begin to exhibit strange quirks never before documented, including inappropriate sexual innuendo, which is directed straight at Jess.

But Jessa has no delusions. The majority of side-effects dissipate once gravity is restored. Besides, there was no way, two such formidable men, would give a full-figured girl like her a second glance, let alone make good on the dark and delicious promises, made over an innocuous wall of monitors.

Also includes stories from:
Jennifer Denys (editor)

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Enjoy this +18 excerpt from Sin Bin:

From backstage Camillah looked out at the growing crowd. Even beyond the bright lights she could see him, the man in black. Excitement bubbled low in her stomach. He’d been coming in sporadically over the past few weeks. As usual he had his cap pulled low, his collar up, but there was something about him.

For the first time, he sat close to the stage and not tucked away in the shadows. He was growing bolder, coming closer to her, she thought fancifully. It was weird, this attraction to him. It gave her hope that one day she might actually fall for another guy. The familiar pain at the mere thought of Daunté cramped her chest, but she pushed it aside for once.

Racing to her dressing room, Camillah took special care selecting a costume. In his honor she selected a black corset, with two brilliant white satin ribbons which ran up either side of her ribcage and disappeared under her ample breasts. Thigh-high fishnet stocking held by garters and short black boots finished off the simple sexy ensemble.

As she was about to leave the dressing area, she added one last item to complete the look. A goth-looking rosary. The vee of the necklace ended just under her breasts. The rest of the chain, from the Glory Be bead down, dangled past her belly button ending with the black crucifix.

"Cam, you're on," the stage-manager called.

Toward the back of the slightly raised dais, Camillah stood on her mark.

Focusing on the dark stranger, she struck a pose.

The lights lowered. The DJ cued her music.

In the center of the spotlight she started to dance, at first for the audience. She fed off their energy. But as she began to feel the music, everything and everyone else faded away, except for him.

Dramatically she reached for him, then bent and caved, as if devastated he didn’t reciprocate.

She spun away and leapt. The music slowed. She swayed using her body in sensual yet graceful movement.

As hoped, she had him riveted. His entire frame tensed. His broad shoulders bunched. But his focus never strayed.

Slow and deliberate she ran her hands over the soft brocade of the corset molding all of her curves. Though she couldn’t see, she imagined his greedy gaze following every gesture. She cupped her breasts and arched her back. Her nipples beaded and strained against the tight fabric.

Exaggerating her facial expressions, Camillah closed her eyes and opened her mouth on a silent moan.

Changing direction, she took a slow exploratory journey back down her core. The crowd went wild with raucous catcalls and shrill whistles. They weren't used to this kind of bump-and-grind from her.

As she reached her lower stomach, she splayed her fingers over her satin-covered mound. Her pussy tingled where she touched. She tucked her fingers between her legs and cupped herself. A collective gasp surprised and exhilarated her. It was a heady feeling.

Strutting down the catwalk, she walked between the rapt patrons, and moved within feet of the man in black. It was the closest she'd ever been to him.

The music crescendoed to a frenzied beat. She worked her hips in kind. She had him spellbound. He sat stiff, frozen.

To the tempo she sank to a sitting position on the very top step of the risers that led to the stage. It wasn’t part of what she’d choreographed, but she went by feel. She opened her legs. The gusset at the crotch pulled tight.

She placed her elbows on her knees. The cross on the chain dangled between them.

Camillah teased him, curling her fingers inward, inching ever closer to the target.

Once more she cupped her cunt through the fabric but this time she rubbed in a circular pattern—teasing him yet and heightening her own arousal.

The number was drawing to a close. Coyly, she toyed with the snaps holding the corset closed between her legs, letting him wonder, would she or wouldn’t she.

The second the music ended, she did it—ripped open the snaps, just as the stagehands rendered the space back to black, dousing the lights. But it was enough. Right before she lost sight of him, she’d seen him bolt from his chair—hand outstretched—as he caught a sneak peek of her slick naked flesh.

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