REAL Woman Wednesday…

12053178_446896298828406_1762398532_nKeeping with The More The Merrier 2 theme for my blog this week, join me in welcoming another of the Erotic Collective’s saucy ladies, my friend Anne A. Lois, better known as small_town_girl on Literotica. Her contribution to this menage erotica boxed set is called Irish Blend. So let’s jump right into the thick of that action, folks…

“She’s a tiny one, isn’t she?” Liam muttered laughingly, realizing he’d need to stoop low to touch Naomi the way he wanted to, and Rye smirked back at him from the recliner.

“Five feet two on a good day, yeah. And you seem to be taller than me, what are you, six-two?”

“Yea, just ‘bout, I think.” Liam shrugged. “I guess we could get horizontal…”

Rye chuckled. “Well, later, sure, but for now have her stand on top of the coffee table. She’d be the perfect height for you then.” His tone made it clear he was speaking from experience, and Liam laughed out loud.

“Roight! I like the way ye’re thinking, man.”

Helping Naomi up onto the towel-covered coffee table, Liam positioned her facing Rye on the far end of it, and then walked to stand right behind her. Standing atop the makeshift platform the crown of her head was level with his nose, and he smiled in satisfaction as his hands came up to hold her hips over her garters, fingertips pressing gently into the warm, supple skin of her abdomen, thumbs caressing the upper slopes of her round, firm, beautiful ass.

“Ah, yes. Perfect height indeed.”

He watched as goosebumps flared over Naomi’s arms while his hands slid forward to splay across her belly and then moved up to cup her breasts. Naomi inhaled sharply, and her nipples drew tight, pushing against the thin lace covering them.

“Lovely,” Liam murmured, palming and lightly squeezing her tits, which fit beautifully in his hands. He peeked up to see Rye watching his every move intently, his arms deceptively still on the armrests, a hint of a smile on his lips. Naomi moaned and pushed her breasts into his palms.

“Feels good, sweetness?” he asked, and she nodded, her head lolling back against his shoulder.


12048814_446896295495073_255376458_nTaking her hint, Liam rasped his thumbs back and forth across her taut peaks through the translucent lace, and when she arched further, took them between his fingers to gently tug and roll at them.

Naomi moaned.

“Raise your arms, Angel. Put them around Liam’s neck, so that they’re out of the way and he can reach anywhere he wants.” Rye’s words were spoken calmly, but with a gruff undertone.

Naomi complied, the movement pushing her breasts up and close together, and Liam couldn’t resist squeezing them even closer, making them rub against each other, his eyes riveted to the sight from over Naomi’s shoulder. Looking up to Rye, Liam saw him staring at his hands on his wife’s tits, and to his surprise, felt his own excitement building.

The thought of this man watching him as he undressed his wife, touched her, stroked her, teased her, fucked her – had taken over Liam’s passion-filled mind. Before, he’d only imagined as far as fucking the most gorgeous woman he knew, possibly doubling-up on her together with her husband, like they did in porn. But he’d never expected this part of it – putting this show in front of Rye – to resonate so deeply. His dick, which had seemed to be in a perpetual state of uncomfortable engorgement from the moment Rye had made his indecent proposal, had grown so swollen now it was downright painful.

Deliberately, slowly, Liam moved his left hand down Naomi’s quivering belly, over the garters crossing her abdomen, and into the waistband of her panties. Her standing on the table made it easy for his fingers to reach down and into her hot, soft, creamy folds.

Naomi moaned deeply, and the sound was echoed by matching groans from the two men.

She seemed to melt back against him, her weight hanging more heavily from her hands around his neck, her knees opening to allow him better access. Liam didn’t hesitate taking advantage of her invitation and moved his hand lower still, stroking the length of her cunt, letting his middle finger slip deeper into her slit and tease her opening.

“Oh god that feels good…”

Naomi’s words went straight to Liam’s dick, making it throb inside his jeans. He had planned to prolong this exquisite game, to savor each moment, but now he was no longer sure he’d be able to.

Looking up, he found Rye’s eyes riveted to the sight of his hand playing with Naomi’s cunt inside her sheer-pink panties. Liam slid his wet fingers up to find the small ridge of her clit, stroking it harder. Naomi whimpered and her knees buckled, forcing him to wrap his other arm securely around her waist to keep her upright.

Rye’s eyes seemed ablaze, focused on his quick movements inside Naomi’s panties, and suddenly Liam knew what he wanted to do next.

He wanted to make Naomi orgasm, while her husband watched. He wanted to look at Rye’s face from between Naomi’s spread thighs as she came undone under his tongue.

Wow…us ladies seem to have a REAL oral fixation! Yes, that is the REAL Anne and not Naomi. If you did not see enough of Anne here today, check her out on AmazonFacebook, or email her at Anne is as much a tease as yours truly…but you will have to decide for yourselves whether we can deliver the ‘PLEASE’ when The More The Merrier 2 comes out on Amazon October 7th.


Tease Tuesday…

Like I said yesterday this week the theme is The More The Merrier 2, a menage boxed set by the Erotic Collective, a stunning group of Lit authors of which I am proud to be a newbie. So every day will be something about the group or group love (lol) or my contribution to it called Nothing Done In Love. The More The Merrier 2 will be released exclusive to Amazon on October 7th. So this is a countdown of sorts…

So today is a tease from Nothing Done In Love…If in your darkest hour, you were gifted with a second opportunity to fulfil your deepest fantasy, would you have the courage to Chase your Chance at love and happiness?

TMTM2Kindergarten teacher Kaitlin Danvers is facing the unthinkable…the pre-mature death of her mentor, best friend and Mommy. Everything she has ever known or believed is shaken to the core as she faces an uncertain future without the only person she has always relied upon, well, almost…

Navy SEALs and identical twins Chance and Chase Logan have grown up on the dry, hostile battlefields half a world away from the best friend and only woman either has ever truly loved. In their darkest hour, the only thing that had given them hope, light and the will to go on was always the memories of her sweet kisses and how incredibly right it felt with her pressed between them that one night a lifetime ago.

Now they are back. Older and wiser, their bodies and souls scarred by things that no man should see or do, but someone always has to…

Back just when she needs them most…

But will things be different this time? Will Katie find the strength to embrace an uncertain future, gifts she has denied for a lifetime and especially an unconventional love that in the world’s eyes tests even the boundaries of her off-beat guru mother’s message that…Nothing Done in Love can ever be wrong.

She was never sure how it happened but suddenly the comfort turned into something else. A need so deep and visceral that it overpowered all those things and even common sense. Her lips reached for his, drank softly at them for several long heartbeats before his fingers laced through her hair, holding her in place as he took it deeper, tongues warring with one another, need fuelling the battle and demanding surrender.

When he broke away he did not go far, just enough that his face filled her field of vision, “I need to taste you, Katy-did.” He rolled her on to her back and pressed her deeper into the mattress.

It took her a long moment to realize what he was talking about. When she did, she felt the heat rising to her cheeks. She bit her lower lip and tried to shake her head, but Chance was already sliding down her body. His large hands cupped and kneaded her breasts until they ached and hardened. She was powerless to stop the moan that escape her lips just a moment before he settled between her thighs.

She opened her mouth to protest then she felt the cool night air caress the wet folds between her legs. She had forgotten that she had not worn panties, not even the scrap of black lace thong to bed.

Chance had not though as his tongue speared through the folds at the top of her thighs, homing instantly upon the hard nub that sent electric shocks spiralling towards her brain. The sensation was totally new and oddly familiar. His wet tongue doing things to her that only her own fingers ever had. And he seemed to know exactly the right pressure and timing to send her body rocketing towards the stars.

She knew that she should slow thing down. They should talk about this. It was way beyond her comfort zone. For goodness sakes, just a few days ago, his brother had…

Her brain did not even manage to finish the thought as he captured her clitoris between his teeth and suckled, sending her over the edge. She cried out as her hips moved against his face, seeking even more of the intense pleasure he was giving her. As if he could actually read her mind, she felt thick fingers slipping inside her, pushing her orgasm to another level.

Then strong arms were wrapped about her, drawing her closer to his hard body as his mouth captured her screams of pleasure. She moaned as the fingers, teeth and tongue continued to torment and pleasure her.

‘Wait’ her mind screamed in rebellion. How could that be? A mouth between her legs…could not also be kissing her?

Is that enough of a tease? And just think seven fabulous authors, seven steamy stories…all for one low price. Out October 7th on Amazon…The More The Merrier 2.

REAL Man Monday…

This week has a special theme…The More The Merrier 2 is a menage boxed set by the Erotic Collective, a stunning group of Lit authors of which I am proud to be a newbie. So every day will be something about the group or group love (lol) or my contribution to it called Nothing Done In Love. The More The Merrier 2 will be released exclusive to Amazon on October 7th. So this is a countdown of sorts…


To get us started this week on REAL Man Monday, we have Jim the Brit, an editor (and sometimes writer) with the Erotic Collective. He is the REAL man that has made such a difference in my writing, helping me to take it from a hobby to a burgeoning career. I owe him so much for his patience, wit and rainbow highlighters. Welcome Jim…

Me: Good morning, Jim. Thanks for being such a good sport…AGAIN with my crazy ass. So I guess the place to begin is sex. How long have you been reading erotica?

Jim: Since my teens and I discovered the opposite sex. Obviously there was no internet when I was a lad so it was smuggled copies of Mayfair and Health and Efficiency which did the rounds. Later it was The Nexus and Black Lace novels and yes…I have read the Story of O.

Me: Have you noticed any big changes over the years?

Jim: Very much so. It was a lot tamer back then. Now it is very hardcore and since FSOG very BDSM orientated. I personally think the ease of access on the internet to the darker stuff has made things worse for the youngsters of today. Women are now seen more as sex objects to be used, rather than the lovely ladies they usually are.

Me: Not just women either, my friend. Increasingly men are being sexualized as beefcake takes over. And as the saying goes…two wrongs do not make a right. That is why I came up with the idea of REAL Man Monday…to show that sexy is between the ears and not just biceps and six-packs. But back to sex…do you have a particular fetish/genre that you like most?

Jim: Ahhhh, now that would be telling. Let’s just say that as an Ex Royal Marine and cop it isn’t difficult to understand my character traits. Let’s surmise that it wouldn’t be me tied to the St Andrew’s cross and flogged, though I would happily be in the same room. Also I found most of my writers through the BDSM categories on Literotica. Enough clues?

Me: So what is the HARDEST part of your job as editor? Besides dealing with my bat shit crazy…

Jim: Probably understanding the common language difference between the U.K. and the U.S. The majority of my authors are from the States so it is getting easier but I will admit certain expressions they use do have me growling and reaching for the highlighter.

Me: Come on, ya’ll. (laughing) Do you write yourself?

Jim: Not a lot. I have written some cameo bits for a couple of authors to play with and polish, as well as one short story of myself as a young serviceman, but I genuinely don’t have the talent or patience to write a complete novel. I much prefer to hone the good writing of someone else.

image2Me: As much as our jobs revolve around it, there is more to life than sex. What do you do for relaxation? What’s your hobbies?

Jim: I was a very keen rugby player when younger, but unfortunately the knees no longer love me, so it is mostly walking, swimming and cycling now. The motorcycle has been part of my life since my early twenties and I would happily disappear off for a few hours touring whenever I had the chance. Unfortunately the beast has been sold so I am in between rides.

Me: Time for the boring stuff…Favourite food?

Jim: Food. Did someone mention food? I am lucky enough to have traveled to a fair few corners of the globe so will eat almost anything. Last meal on death row would have to be a Sunday beef roast or a rare cooked seasoned fillet. These posh restaurants which charge an arm and a leg for a fancy presentation which wouldn’t feed a half starved hamster, leave me cold.

Me: Agreed, life is too short to starve yourself. Speaking of favourites (Brit spelling just for my beloved editor and friend)… book and film?

Jim: Hmm, hard one as I love reading most things. I will narrow it down a bit by saying anything by Wilbur Smith. His power of description is absolutely amazing. You can actually imagine yourself stood in a Saharan desert. I love action films, but not particularly the ones which go OTT. Indiana Jones and the old Bond films are particularly watchable.

Me: Sean Connery proves that older men are sexy for certain. He is my favourite Bond. So back to sex…au naturel or shaved?

Jim: Who? Me or her (laughing)? Bald as a babies bum every day of the week. In the 70’s when I began experimenting it was almost always as nature grew it and while I didn’t object (who would if he was about to get laid..grin) I have always loved the shaved look. It is sooooo darn sexy.

Me: Something not a lot of people know about you?

Jim: I was a quarter finalist on Countdown, meeting Richard Whitely and Carol Vorderman amongst others. I also massaged Carol’s ankle in the green room. (memories…sigh.)

Me: Hot seat question here…Apart from the wife, who would be you ideal bed partner?

Jim: Are you trying to get me into trouble ???  If I must answer then it would be Carol Vorderman. She absolutely oozes sex appeal and she really is as lovely as she appears on the telly. Friendly and absolutely charmed the studio audience the days I was down there. With a lovely full figure she would be perfect to keep me warm on a cold winters night. Size 0 does nothing for me.

Me: Thank you my lovely editor, friend and mentor for helping me to highlight (and you have so many pretty ones…I should know) that like their sisters, sexy is not restricted to oiled up, gym bodies in their 20s. And Sean Connery is definitely not the only Scotsman that gets better with age. 


Serious Sunday…

Last week I told you that September was #SuicidePreventionMonth and talked about the shameful numbers of our Veterans who have taken their lives as a result of PTSD, depression and suicide. But you do not have to be a Veteran to experience mental health issues. In fact, statistically one in four of us will experience a mental health issue at some point in our lives. And the other three are lying to themselves and in denial…lol. But getting back to the serious, suicide or thoughts of it can affect anyone. Me included…today I get real and bare not just my body but my soul as I tell you about my darkest hour.

September 2009 – I had been married and living in England for three years….and was miserable with culture shock. I had in the space of two years lost three jobs…through no fault of my own. My youngest daughter had just been diagnosed with epilepsy. My marriage that I had moved 5,000 miles for was failing…including catching him in a cyber affair even though I had been trying desperately to spice things up in the bedroom (and my readers KNOW I can spice it up).

And I was almost twelve weeks pregnant…or so I thought when I started to spot. I did not worry too much though as I had done so with PanKwake…much worse in fact. But just to be safe I left her with family and went to the hospital to be checked out. And the world began to fall apart. When they did the ultrasound there was no heartbeat…in fact there likely never had been. The sac looked to be about the size of a five week fetus. They told me that perhaps I just had my dates wrong and to come back in a week. They would check again for growth and heartbeat. But I was sure about my dates…and when I had taken the pregnancy test.

Even six years later and I cannot go into the rest of the story with you. The details are still too painful to remember. But the bottom line was…I had lost the baby. But my body would not or could not come to terms with it and continued to hold onto the dead fetus. For another twelve days as I vacillated between the hope that the doctors were wrong (never go reading the internet when something is seriously wrong with you) and all the stages of grief at the same time. On top of that I had a sick three year old and had to check on her constantly during the night because of her seizures. I was spiralling further and further into a depression that would last for the next two years.

But then there was that night…ten days into this. I could not sleep and sat at the computer…reading those stories of false hope…and crying. I would sneak upstairs and check on her periodically. And think about the baby sister I wanted to give her. But at forty-four, I knew this was it…if I lost this baby…I could not go through this again.

Now there have been other moments in my life where I was down. Where I thought…I wish I were dead. But only that one time have I take the next leap…not just to thinking about killing myself but to actually planning how. I got back on the internet to see if taking all of my daughter’s seizure medicine would do it. It would not. Of course, I knew that one of the most dangerous drugs was an over-the-counter pain killer, but if you get that one wrong it is a horrible way to die and I am chicken shit about that kind of prolonged pain. In the end, I am a bit of a hoarder and had saved several jars for use around the house. I went into the kitchen and started throwing them against the hard floor, but none would break. My ex-husband came storming down the stairs but instead of seeing what was really happening, he started screaming at me about waking up our daughter if I was not more quiet. Yeah, I know…bastard.

But that was what it took. In that moment, I knew that no matter what I could not leave my child to be raised alone by this man. And though my battle with depression and anxiety had just begun, never in the next two years…or even on the most stressed day now battling autism and a cruel society that does not accept my child…never again have I went that far to seriously consider it.

I do not want your pity…anyone who knows me knows that. What I want is for us to honestly start talking about the hard stuff like suicide, depression, PTSD and all the other shit that makes life crappy. Until we remove the stigma from mental health issues that cannot happen. That is why even in my dirtiest, nastiest, raunchiest porn with three brothers…they all struggle with this thing called the human condition. What I want most is that my stories touch someone…makes them realize they are not alone. And gives them hope in that dark place that I call…the valley of the shadow of death.

10527283_682325891861152_196645688283904092_nSo if that is you or someone you know…DON’T do it. Maybe you don’t have a PanKwake to save your life the way she did her Mommy’s. But all of us have someone…either in our past, our present or our future. I know that at this moment you may not believe that, but I do. We like to think that suicide is a tragedy or victimless, but it is not…the people you leave behind are devastated by it.

So as I did last Sunday, here are a couple of resources…

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention

In the UK, there is a wonderful charity called the Samaritans that offer a 24 hour a day hotline at 116 123.

Please use these resources…life is worth it. I promise you…not saying it is easy…but find those precious moments and hold onto them.

Goddess bless, heal and protect us all…

Sensual Saturday…

Today we are talking about…REAL love. In the blurb for yesterday’s Freaky Friday I mentioned that before there was sexting there were letters…and that one of the greatest love stories of all time began just that way. Here is one example of that love…

When our two souls stand up erect and strong,
Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,
Until the lengthening wings break into fire
At either curved point,—what bitter wrong
Can the earth do to us, that we should not long
Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher,
The angels would press on us and aspire
To drop some golden orb of perfect song
Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay
Rather on earth, Beloved,—where the unfit
Contrarious moods of men recoil away
And isolate pure spirits, and permit
A place to stand and love in for a day,
With darkness and the death-hour rounding it.

Sonnet 22 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

But this is just one example of REAL love…here is another…

June Carter wrote the lyrics about her relationship with Johnny Cash while driving around aimlessly one night, worried about his wildman ways – and aware that she couldn’t resist him. “There is no way to be in that kind of hell, no way to extinguish a flame that burns, burns, burns,” she wrote. Cash was involved in drugs and had a very volatile lifestyle. When she wrote this, both June and Johnny were married to other people, but they became singing partners and close friends. By 1967, Cash and Carter were single again and they got married in 1968. Johnny claimed that June saved his life by helping him get off drugs. June died in 2003 after 35 years of marriage to Johnny. He died, probably of a broken heart, less than four months later.

But those are examples of famous people…I want to tell you three REAL life stories…

I said that Johnny died of a broken heart less than 4 months after June’s death. But my own paternal grandparents beat that one hands down. My grandfather died less than a week after the death of his ‘Bertie.’ Back in the day when couples called one another by pet names like…Daddy and Mama…I was rarely around these down to earth farmers, who were horribly ashamed of the way that their son abandoned my mother and his children. But the handful of times I was, I remember the gentle way he treated her. And for the record…my grandparents were cousins…back in a time when such things were not the taboo it is today. They grew up together, loved and raised six children together, died and were buried together.

But that is not the only REAL love story in my family. My maternal great-grandmother, my Nanny, raised me. She had been a widow for over twenty years by the time I was born. And in all that time and to her death almost two decades later, no one can ever once remember her ‘dating.’ Growing up and as a young adult, I often felt that she was cold, prudish and sad. After her death, my aunt went through her things. She discovered boxes upon boxes of hidden love letters written by my great-grandfather over the two decades that they did share together. Those love letters put anything I write to shame. The heartfelt and powerful words as flowery as the Songs of Solomon talked of lying his head upon her soft peaks…of treasures hidden in her valleys. They spanned time from their courtship when they were in their late teens/early 20s until days before his death. My aunt had a couple framed and hung in her living room. I cried when I read them…and have never ever looked upon my Nanny the same way again. After a love like that, who can blame her? How could any other man measure up to Papa Clyde? Who knows maybe Johnny Cash and my grandfather were the lucky ones? Having that kind of love for twenty years then living on nothing than yellowing pages and fading memories of it for another almost forty certainly explains that sadness in my Nanny.

I have a friend now that is walking that same road. After twenty years with his partner and soulmate, he lost her pre-maturely to early onset Alzheimer’s. His road maybe even tougher as they had no children, no grand-children to lighten his burden of grief now. I try my best to be his friend…while being jealous of a dead woman. Not because I have any interest in this man…I do not…

BUT because as much as I write about this kind of love…no man has ever felt it towards me. I have no Robert Browning, no Johnny Cash, no Grandpa M, no Papa Clyde, no Leo. All I have are characters in my head and broken dreams. Yet still I believe in this kind of love. Still I pray to my goddess for the man, who lies awake watching me snore and thinks…I am the fucking luckiest man alive to call that mine. And trust me if he can stand my snoring…I’ll know it is REAL love.

Freaky Friday…

Here is the question of the day…

REAL or not? Your thoughts...
REAL or not? Your thoughts…

Is sexting sex?

I had this friendly disagreement with someone. They felt that sexting was nothing more than masturbation. While I on the other hand, strongly feel that if someone I know and care about is on the other end of that phone…telling me what to do…that is sex. Admittedly not as good as it could be ‘in real life’. But you are not alone…you are not controlling yourself…another person is involved. Thus…SEX!

I will stick in a WARNING here…because it is sex…don’t fucking treating it lightly. If you would not sleep with someone on the first date, why the fuck are you sending him or her dirty pics in less than an hour after first talking? Remember…they now ‘own’ those pics…so make damned sure that you either trust them not to use/abuse them or that you don’t mind having your…. spread over the Internet.

But having gotten that out of the way, I will say that sexting is an awesome way of building tension/rapport in a long distance relationship. It is also a great way to tease or keep flames alive in any relationship. You know he is having a stressful meeting…dress up like his little slut and send the pic. You just lowered his stress…though something else might have risen.

And there really is so much that you can do besides dirty pics. (Wondering now…do you think that they could have convinced Kirsty to send a pic of her naked tits?…No way for anything lower…but the tits?) My fav is being controlled. To be told exactly what to do…yes, to myself, but like I said…then my hands and toys become an extension of this other person that is not there physically, but is a very real presence otherwise. My mind is theirs to control…as is my body.

Wow…now I am getting excited about the next chapter of re-writes for Njord’s Captive…among other things. Wondering how far they got Kirsty to actually take it…it would go a very long way to explaining what happened in the original Chapter 1…lol. Because yes, folks, sexting is real sex and builds a powerful connection…for the good or the bad. So like the Force…be careful how you use it.

Thoughtful Thursday…

Chapter 1 of Ægir’s Wife caused quite a stir…as is Chapter 2. The rough and seemingly thoughtless way that Sven took Kirsty ass…not the first time the man has lost control around her…has a friendly debate going about non-consent and rape. To be perfectly clear…rape is an act of power and violence. It is NOT sex. It is NEVER EVER NEVER acceptable. But was this rape?

That is an incredibly tough question, because the final word on whether something is rough sex, reluctance, non-consent or rape is not society or the law…but the individual to whom it happened. It reminds me of characterization of pornography by Supreme Court justice Potter Stewart: “I know it when I see it” (Jacobellis v. Ohio, 1964).

But the human mind itself is rarely straight forward. In 1973, Nancy Friday came out with a controversial book called My Secret Garden. One of the reasons it was so controversial (in addition to recognizing that women enjoyed sex too) was the fact that it recognized that one of many women’s top fantasies is ‘rape.’ I willing admit to being one of those women. But we dare not, any more than she did, leave it there. Because the truth is that the fantasy is NOT about rape itself but rather about losing control…yours and his.

Honestly, my favorite word is TAKEN. I love when after knowing someone and consenting in the big picture…in the moment he loses control and takes what he wants. I like that for two reasons. First of all, there is something still hard-wired into our evolutionary primitive brain that is turned on by that cave-man, bad-boy shit. We like being chased after, clubbed over the head and let’s be honest…owned. And that leads into the second reason…because in that situation…WE are the powerful ones. He wants us so fucking much that he cannot control himself…it is rare to find a woman that does not want her man to feel that way about her. Goddess knows…I do.

So would I ever want to actually be raped? No, nor would any woman. But do I enjoy being taken? Do I like to even role-play it in the safety of loving and committed relationship? Hell, yeah.

Does Kirsty think it was rape though? Well, that one will be worked out over the course of this book. I will say that she has always had an intense connection to Sven…one that began even before that first…’taking’ on the boat. She, herself, continually shies away from that word and excuses what even I admit is questionable behavior. My problem with Sven is not what he does…but what he does not do…provide that balance….the loving after-care that would keep her from feeling used and dirty.

Is that answer going to piss people off? Hell, yeah. But as Nancy Friday discovered forty years ago, women’s fantasies can be as dark or darker than a man’s. And trust me that is still alive today. Don’t believe me? It is not just me that writes these ‘walk the line’ scenes. Type ‘taken’ into the Kindle Store…6,747 titles. Tell you something, folks?

RAPE is always wrong…no question about that. But losing control…yours or his…is just damned good sex.