Apr 26, 2014

Sexual input --- This is heaven (teaser)

Indulge us, indulge us, one last teaser for Chapter 13. Brigittå Haagen Dasz, the author of flame-hot romance novels, continues to share the events of last night in another very short fragment.  

She has just finished a few paragraphs filled with rampant oral sex and allusions to the "Fountain of Geneva," and needs to catch her breath:

Brigitta takes a deep breath and fans herself with the hand sheet. The lush climes of Georgia have taken a turn towards the flame-hot---let me rephrase this: the air is heavy and sticky, and even the sea breeze has taken a break. Alex walks over to Luke’s stand to fetch a few cans of coke. I check optically whether anybody could notice the onset of my erection. Brigittå apparently has, she’s quite satisfied. We drink our drinks. “Ready?” Brigittå asks. We nod.

Bob Bienpensant: Hi, this is me

“Meanwhile, both sisters have undressed completely and are ready for more. Ben is not quite ready but Jane’s aimful caresses restore his manhood swiftly to operational valor. He’s expected to stand stud now, and he knows it. ‘Shall we toss a coin?’ Jane asks teasingly, then says: ‘you go first, you are the guest.’ Token resistance is my answer, and soon I find myself on the edge of her luxuriant bedstead, my legs wide and sky-wise directed, my lust craving and yearning, and Ben inside. Yes, the moment of initial penetration was fleeting, gentlemen, the bodily fluids were flowing and lubricating his approach so wantonly that little is remembered of the instant that his juicy organ slides into my quivering love purse for the first time.”

“This wasn’t my first time with an Afro-American, nor my first time with a young man twenty years my junior. The Association of Romance Professionals requires all members in good standing to seek sexual input on a regular basis. Matters of the heart are such a volatile business. All of us---excuse the four-letter word---are obligated to fuck around. And it wasn’t my first time to be sent to heaven by a sexual act. But it was my first time to see the world in a light so different, so mesmerizing, so utterly upside down, that, well, I don’t know. Shall I found a new religion? Shall I stalk poor Ben who will soon tire of me? Shall I enter a convent and relive the rest of my life in the memory of the next few minutes of what is going to happen? As I said to Alex already, well, obviously, there’s a physical part to love making, and a boy like Ben, even if we’re not allowed to call him that way, is primordially positioned to play that part well, the narrow-waisted perfection of his body as we get into the rhythm of his thrusts, the cheeked, budding, ultra-tight buttocks to which I try to hold on to, the silhouette of his shoulders rising up above me, the piston of his inches plumbing my flesh, the ebony sing-song of his moans as his perfect sex machine shifts into higher gear, yes, gentlemen, yes, granted.


The silhouette of his shoulders rising up above me, the piston of his inches plumbing my flesh, the ebony sing-song of his moans as his perfect machine shifts into higher gear... 

“But that’s not exactly what happens. Ben is in, yes, and now what? He’s in. And that’s it. He’s basically slacking. There is, at most, the faintest hint of life in his pendulous organ which is now absorbed by my womb. How to say this, there’s a Mozart opera where, in one scene, the music comes from very far away. It’s Mozart nonetheless...

This was the last teaser of Chapter 13, promise. Go here for the previous one, here for the next one, and here for a choice of chapters of the Green Eyes.

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