Sasha White

I’ve never written male/male before, but I’m finding myself drawn to it a little. Maybe I’ll have a small sample to show you in a day or two.

Those who are easily shocked should be shocked more often.
Mae West

I love this saying, and it’s very forward in my brian as I work on WICKED right now. Since it’s deadline crunch, and that’s really all that’s going on in my life, I’ll give you a little tease from the WIP. :)

WICKED

Lara was already at the pool table when Karl entered the pub. He stood and watched her from a distance for a few minutes. She was playing her opponent more than the table. Bending, stretching and smiling flirtatiously.
Her tight leather vest plumped up her cleavage deliciously, and her short skirt showed off legs that every man in there wanted wrapped around his waist. No, she was no sweet submissive miss — but she was a naughty girl through and through. One who was willing to try anything once.
When she flipped back her hair, bent over, and sent the eight ball into the corner pocket with a sure stroke, he stepped forward with a small smile. “Nice work.”
She winked at him as she tucked the bills from the edge of the table into her hip pocket. “Thanks. You wanna play?”
He couldn’t hold back the images that flooded his mind at that invitation, and he grinned. “Oh yeah, but not pool. Let’s grab a seat.”
He pointed to a booth near the back corner and they headed toward it. When she slid in one side, he fought his natural urge to slide in next to her, and settled in across the table. The waitress was there immediately, smiling at him and bending over the table to give him a good view down her little tank top. “What can I do for you tonight?”
“Lara?” he asked.
When she ordered a cola, he ordered a beer and sent the waitress away with a lazy smile.
“Do women hit on you everywhere you go?”
He slouched back in his seat and raised an eyebrow at her. “Do men hit on you every where you go?”
Her husky chuckle filled the air between them and a knowing look passed between them. They were a lot alike.
“You don’t like to play pool?” she asked.
“I do, but there are other games I’d rather play with you. Ones that will help us get to know each other better.”
She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling, her smile wicked. “Do you really want to get to know me better, or do you just want to fuck me?”
What did he want from her? He didn’t bother checking out the cleavage displayed so temptingly before him, he knew she was sexy. Instead, he gazed into her eyes, searching past the spark of desire there, seeing the walls she’d built to protect her thoughts, and he wanted to knock those walls down. He wanted to know what lay beneath the surface.
And he wanted to bend her over and sink his cock in deep.
“Both,” he told her. “I think you and I can embark on a journey together — a very pleasurable one.”
Tilting her head to the side she narrowed her eyes at him. “Stop talking like a lawyer.”
“I’m talking like a Dom, sugar.”
She sat back, surprised. “A Dom? As in, tie me up and spank me?” Well that explained a lot.
“Something like that, yes.”
The waitress arrived with their drinks and Lara watched as he handed over cash, tipping her heavily before sending her away with an absent smile.
A Dom.
Damn, that sorta sucked, she’d been looking forward to having that delicious cock of his buried deep inside her. She hadn’t had a good hard fuck in way too long, but she wasn’t into being spanked.
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “I am not a submissive person.”
“I think you might surprise yourself. You enjoyed sucking my cock the other night right?”
His small smile was starting to irritate her. “Yeah, but that’s not a submissive thing. Men are ruled by their dicks. If I can rule the dick, I can rule the man. That’s not exactly a submissive way of thinking is it?”
“So you got no pleasure from hearing my groans of pleasure, or words of praise? No satisfaction in feeling my cock throb against your tongue as my come filled your mouth?”
His words filled her head, clouding her thoughts as the memory of the other night filled her mind. His hand in her hair, his cock in her mouth, his voice being the only thing she heard beyond the pounding of her own rushing blood as he growled his satisfaction.
She’d swallowed for him. Something she’d never done before. More than that, he was right, she’d enjoyed then whole thing. Walking away from him then had been a point of pride she’d paid for when she was alone in bed with her vibrator.
She’d never shied from a challenge before, yet Karl’s words didn’t feel like just a challenge. They felt like a … request? She gave herself a mental head slap. Did it really matter? She wanted him, and she would try anything once.
So she straightened her spine, thrust out her breasts and boldly met his gaze. “Do I have to call you Master?”
“Why don’t we start with something simple?”
“I’m ready when you are.”
His voice lowered. “Are you wearing panties?”
Adrenaline surged through her. “Yeah.”
“Take them off, please.”
She started to slide out of the booth only to be stopped by his foot blocking her way. She glanced from the black boot to the man across the table, her forehead wrinkling. “Excuse me?”
“Stay here and take them off,” he commanded softly. “You proved the other night that you were adventurous when it came to taking risks in public, this should be nothing to you.”
He was right — it was nothing. So why was her heart suddenly pounding so hard it vibrated through her chest?
Without bothering to think about it, she shifted forward on her seat a little and reached under the table. Keeping her eyes locked on him, she slid her fingers up her outer thighs and under her denim skirt. She planted her feet on the floor lifted her hips and tugged at the elastic until the thong slipped from between her cheeks and down her legs.
Bunching the lace in one fist she felt the damp proof of her excitement against the palm of her hand, and pride zipped through her.
“Can I get you anything, sir? Another beer?” The waitress stood at the edge of their table, eyeing Karl.
Deliberately, Lara put her hand on the table between them, and opened it up, offering Karl her panties. Karl smiled his approval and reached for them while he spoke. “No thank you. I have everything I need for now.”
Lara tried not to smirk as the waitress stomped away. When she saw Karl lift the bundle of lace to his face and inhale, her moment of satisfaction faded into a blur of uncertainty.
“You smell wonderful,” he said. “Already turned on, are you?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. Trying not to let him see just how effected she truly was.
“Yes,” he said.
“Yes, what?”
“When I ask you a question, I’d like you to answer clearly. Yeah, isn’t a proper answer.”
“Okay.” She nodded, feeling like a chastened child.
“Okay isn’t acceptable either.” His body didn’t move, but the energy around him shifted. Becoming almost palpable in it’s force as he stared at her. “Clear communication is essential, Lara. So is honesty. You always have the right to say no, or stop, at any time, and I will honor your choice. But you have to be clear. Yeah and okay imply uncertainty or disinterest, and that does neither of us any justice.”
Her nipples ached and she squeezed her thighs together. He wasn’t touching her, and his words weren’t particularly dirty or sexy, but her body was reacting in a big way to his tone of voice.
Pushing the heady clouds of lust away from her brain she focused on what he’d said. “I can say no at any time?”
“Yes.”
“But aren’t I supposed to do whatever you say?”
“Only if you want to. That’s what makes the power exchange of D/s so potent. It’s a free exchange, one that is meant to give us both what we need.”
Need. She nodded, even though she didn’t really understand what he was saying. She’d understood she could say no at any time, and that was all she cared about at the moment. Need was flooding her pretty damn fast and she hoped he was going to do something about it soon.
Oh hell, he wanted honesty. She licked her lips and leaned forward. “I need you to fuck me, and soon. Is that clear enough?”

Secret Thoughts:Erotique was born out of the online monthly free magazine I used to publish. The eZine was full of stories and artciles abotu writing, adn sex, and erotic art…but it took a lot of work. SO when my other writing started to suffer, I gave up the eZine, and decided to go the short story collection route.

If you visit my blog often, you know I love to write short stories and flash fiction. I have three pieces in the collection, one of them you probably know since it used to be on my webiste as a free read, one some of you MIGHT know because I think I put it in the eZine about two years ago, and the third one, a completelt new one that no one has seen, not even my critique partners. LOL

ANyway, for today, I’m gonna tease you with a small bit form DIARY OF A VIRGIN, and hope you’ll be ready to pick up SECRET THOUGHTS:Erotique when it goes on sale tomorrow!!

Teaser:
I sat next to him and wondered what to do next. Before I could get myself too worked up, he turned towards me, placed his arm along the back of the couch and let his fingers play with the ends of my hair. He just smiled at me and my mind began to race.
Where do I start? I want to get my hands on him. And my mouth, maybe a small nibble or two as well.
It felt like I’d let some animal loose inside me, one that’d been tied up for too long. Just thinking about seeing his cock up close for the past hour, thinking about touching it, licking it, sucking it had made me so wet I worried that a stain might show through my jeans. God, I can’t wait anymore.
As if he read my mind, his hand quit playing with my hair and reached to cup the back of my head to pull me in for a kiss. That was what I call a kiss. A tangle of tongues and heavy breathing, both his hands gripping my head, changing the angle and titling it back so his hot mouth could gain access to my neck. My hands gripped his shoulders, trying to get us closer but I couldn’t seem to get close enough. So I stretched one leg over his and pulled myself onto his lap and nibbled on his neck, his earlobe.
Oh yeah, that felt good.

You’re always there for me, whenever I need you. It’s as if you sense when I am lost, and need to be found. When I am lonely and need to be held. You come for me, no matter where I am. I need you on top of me, around me, inside me. Touching, stroking, caressing … being.
There is magic in you.
And when I’m with you, it’s in me too.
Thank You.

J.J. Massa is another author whose writing hits me every time I read it. No matter if it’s one of her werewolf stories, her cajuns or her male- male romances, every story hit’s the bullseye with emotion, and heat. So ofcourse, I had to get her in on Secret Thoughts:Erotique as well. Here’s what J.J has to say;

I love writing erotica because I have a need to tell the WHOLE story. I love finding two people and following them in the oldest dance—who gives, who takes? It’s so intimate and yet we all do it, one way or another. It’s fascinating to me. Male/Male is exciting whether in a BDSM or D/s relationship, or simply two men, looking for someone to be with. A touch, a smile, will it be accepted? Rejected? Is it forbidden? Ohhh, the angst! I love every second of it. And that’s why I think Secret Thoughts says it all—erotica is someone’s secret thoughts in action.

So, without any further ado:

Office Politics
J.J. Massa

“One moment, Miss Carson, and I’ll…” I faltered, cleared my throat. A slight tapping on my desk had caused me to swivel away from my computer monitor and look up. My new boss, Mr. Weaver, was standing there, arms crossed, golden eyebrow raised as he shook his head side to side. “I’ll check his schedule, ma’am, because I know he’s not in right now.” That was a fine line, of course. If he were truly in, he’d be at his own desk, not mine, right?

Mr. Weaver gave me a nod and a wink, approval. I’m almost ashamed to tell you how good that felt. My chest actually puffed out. No shit. I couldn’t help it, not even if I wanted to. I smiled back.

“He’s good, Jack!” The other man’s voice took me by surprise. It was Fred O’Neil, head of acquisitions. I hadn’t even noticed him. Jack Weaver had that effect on me. “Now, if only he had better legs and bigger tits,” the asshole chortled. “You know, while he sat on your lap and squirmed?” he snickered as the two men passed my desk and walked into Mr. Weaver’s inner sanctum.

I turned away, every bit of my face warm, right up to the tips of my ears. What an image, me on Jack Weaver’s lap. Oh, man! I had to adjust myself, shifting in my chair.

My fingertips were gripping my stiff cock, trying to find a comfortable position, when a heavy palm landed on my shoulder. Oh, god! It could only be… I tipped my head back just slightly. Yep, it was Mr. Weaver. I groaned inside, humiliated.

“Mark, I can tell that O’Neil’s comments made you uncomfortable. Step into my office when he leaves, would you please?”

My hand dropped uselessly to my leg. I couldn’t speak and just nodded. The grip on my shoulder tightened a little and then fell away. I didn’t move, waiting until I heard the muted footfalls, the door open and close, then laughter from the inner office.

Caught like a fly on a pin. Shit, shit, shit! My head dropped forward to the LCD of my monitor. God, I was so busted, so humiliated. Guess he’s got me pegged now.

I don’t really think Beth needs any introduction around here, but I can’t sop myself. She’s my critique partner, my friend, and a very talented and versatile writer. I begged and bribed to get her to contribute to this collection, and I’m so very glad she did. And here’s what she has to say about it;

Secret Thoughts was my first opportunity to dip my toe into the erotica pool. With Sasha’s encouragement, I spread my literary and imaginative wings and flew. Although most of my stories before Secret Thoughts have been hot, I pushed that hot to scorching. I’ve always written historical, then moved into contemporary, but always erotic romance, and always novel or novella length.

I took that one step further and wrote two erotic short stories for Secret Thoughts, one historical and one contemporary. The historical, Southern Heat, was a fantasy of mine (and many others) - sex with an anonymous, sexy stranger. My contemporary, Behind the Hedge, drew me completely out of my comfort zone and into an incredibly sensual world of voyeurism, and hot male/male and female/female sex. Another wild fantasy, watching then participating.

I always love to explore where I haven’t been before and Secret Thoughts: Erotique gave me the horse to ride.

A little bit of Southern Heat from Beth;

Southern Heat — excerpt

Emmeline finally arrived just beside the pond. She pressed her damp, sticky back against the rough bark of the pine and felt a small broken branch pushing into her spine. Ignoring the discomfort, she braced herself to peek around the tree.

And promptly forgot her name.

The moonlight shone through the trees onto the pond like a porch light, illuminating both the water and the wet, naked man.

He was beautiful. It wasn’t a word she had ever applied to a man. But he was.

He was tall and slender with broad shoulders and a matt of hair on his muscular chest. She couldn’t tell the exactly color of his hair, but it was probably blond. He was floating on his back, sweeping his long arms up and down, gently moving from one side of the pond to the other. He looked like a creature of the sea, full of liquid strength and grace.

But what really drew her attention was what was lying between his legs. She’d never seen a naked man before, of that she was certain. She was also certain that his had to be extraordinary. She’d heard the cook talking to the maid about it once before her parents had died and the servants dismissed. They’d called it a “cock”.

His cock was big and reached nearly to his belly button. And what was below them, she heard them call “balls” although they weren’t exactly round, they were covered with hair, probably dark blond in color, and looked like very large plums. Juicy ones.

Suddenly the dampness in her dress wasn’t the only thing wet on her body. She was wet between her legs. Reaching down, she touched herself through her dress and shuddered. She bit her lip to the point of pain to contain a moan. How could just looking at a naked man do this? Her nipples were hard points rubbing against her damp clothing. They were throbbing in tune with her vagina. What had cook called that? Oh, yes, her pussy. The names were naughty and just knowing them was enough to push up her pulse even higher.

She saw him reach the edge of the other side of the pond. He stood, the water sluicing off him to reveal an absolutely perfect behind. It was round, yet firm, and she found herself wanting to run over and caress it, squeeze it…to bite it.

He came back to me and undid my blouse, and then the front clasp of my bra. Strong hands cupped my breasts and I pressed my ass back into his erection.

Then I heard him pick up the belt. My head snapped back to search his face. He kissed my shoulder and waited. So I took a deep breath, smiled and tilted my ass up to get ready for the sting of leather on my skin.

He laughed. “I take it you’ve done this before.”

I managed a nod.

The strip of black finally touched me, but not in the way I expected. It snaked around my hips and dropped down to capture my thighs. Cold metal went deep into my leg as he buckled it tight, then he helped me get closer to the wall, stopping only when my nipples brushed its clammy surface. He stroked the sides of my tits and watched while his movements dragged the tight dark tips over the dimples of the painted cinderblocks. Then his hands went south and caressed my ass.

The first slap was loud. It echoed through the library and broke the silence I fought to maintain on a daily basis. The next was muffled but solid, making me tingle and buzz with pleasure. The smacks came slowly, like he wanted to make sure I was okay. To know when he’d crossed the line between pleasing and hurting. Hot flickers of sweet pain grew into a flame. My pussy trembled with each new sting and wept with joy down the curves of my inner thighs.

Laura Bacchi has talent. There is no other way to put it. She can write sweet, she can write raw, and she can certainly do edgy! I’m so pleased she accepted my invitation ot be part of the Secret Thoughts: Erotique Collection.

Now, from Laura Bacchi to you: How Prison Helped My Writing

When I hit my mid-thirties, something happened with my hormones. Just one whiff of a guy, any guy, made me weak in the knees. Made me sweat and think horrible, terrible, naughty things and kept me on the edge of instant arousal. It was around this time that I landed a job in an all-male prison.

One horny woman in the midst of hundreds of heavily tattooed sex-deprived men who worked out several hours a day could’ve made for a lethal combination, but it all worked out just fine. I took the prison’s dump of a library and turned it into a haven for the guys, an escape from their dreary, lonely existence. I tossed the mildewed Reader’s Digest Condensed Books from 1976 and gave them New York Times bestsellers, cutting edge fiction, and up-to-date reference books. They in turn gave me respect and, unbeknownst to them, enough fantasy fodder to last for years to come.

But most importantly they taught me things that helped my writing, like keep the dialogue tight. Words mean a lot in prison. They can get you hurt or earn an inmate’s undying gratitude. Whether you’re staff or on the other side of the bars, you have to mean what you say, get to the point, and remember that a little humor goes a long way. You’d better have your words right in a place like this — know when to be funny and when to mean business. While working here, the dialogue in my stories acquired more zing. It got snappier. It got more real. I have the guys in blue to thank for that.

And being around these men taught me that every experience can give you a story. Or lots of stories. You just have to open yourself up to what’s happening around you. Take it all in. From witnessing fights on the yard to relishing in rumors of illicit love between staff and inmates, I ended up with plenty of material to work with. But when I look back on my other jobs, stories were there as well. It took an extreme environment like prison to make me see the richness in life, be it everyday stuff or something extraordinary.

One of my tales in Secret Thoughts: Erotique takes place in a prison. No, none of the things in the story ever happened, but, oh, if they had… When you train for a prison job, they warn you about the inmates, but not the guards. I just love a man in a uniform, and I hope you like Officer Rob Mendoza in “Sanchez Shake-Down.” After reading it, you’ll know some of my most secret thoughts ;)

Visit her Blog to learn more.

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Give a man a free hand and he’ll run it all over you.
~ Mae West

This is Dylan Bruno, he plays Colby Granger on the tv show NUMBERS, and I find him very intrigeuing and super sexy. So much so that I used him as my inspiration for Kane Michaels, the cop in SEX AS A WEAPON. :)

Friday nights episode of Numbers was all about him. Well, okay, not all but enough that I have to say Go Watch It!!

:D