Wednesday, June 17, 2009

"Women can't write about sex"

By now, you will probably have heard about Kate Copstick (the first female owner of Erotic Review) and her claim that women can't write sex.

Here is my response:

This excerpt is from "Fiji on Fire, Fiji on Ice" by Eve Summers, which will be released by Red Rose Publishing on July 16, 2009.


(Back story: Tanya orders a massage and when she hears a knock on her hotel room door, she doesn't realise it's Andy who's come to apologise.)

This time, the massage started with her feet. Strong thumbs pressed hot circles into the soles, teased the spaces between her toes and tickled her ankles into a state of arousal.

Her response was instant, even without the aphrodisiac scent of oils. By the time the massaging fingers had moved up to the backs of her knees, Tanya had to bite the pillow to muffle the inappropriate sounds emanating from her throat.

It was not at all what she had ordered. It was not at all what she wanted. It was exactly what she needed.

Suddenly, a hot moist mouth enclosed her big toe, sucking and lashing it with a firm tongue.

Tanya writhed on her belly. “More. Please. More.”

When she could stand it no longer, she raised herself onto her knees. The bathrobe rode up her thighs. She knew the memory of this moment would make her squirm later, but that would be later.

Now was now. Now was paradise. An expert hand followed the invitation straight into Tanya’s damp curls. The fingers spread out her folds in a confident, practiced manner, locating the right spot at once. Under the rich layers of pure sexual bliss, the still-thinking-part of Tanya’s brain was impressed. No man was ever that good. No man had ever found it first shot, and from behind, at that. No man knew the exact speed or the amount of pressure to apply

“Aaaah!” The moans pushed past her lips against her will. She was too hungry to fight them.

Ice Princess turned Nymphomaniac in three easy steps. Perhaps she had been batting for the wrong team all her life, after all. Perhaps it took a girl to know what a girl needed in bed.

Tanya’s inhibitions dissolved with every stroke. “Oh yes. Oh yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Close. So close now.

When the first ripple of orgasm hit, the fingers glided farther up and into her flesh, hitting a mysterious patch of pleasure-nerves. Tanya’s scream of shocked ecstasy froze in her throat as she felt her g-spot come alive for the very first time ever.

As she rode that most beautiful of waves all the way up to the sweet breaking point, she knew she was about to graduate into grown-up sex at long last. But she didn’t want to go there alone.

Her mind reached out.

“Andy,” she whispered.

“I’m here, babe.”

His voice sent her over the edge. Her mind went blank and she was only marginally aware of her body thrashing about on the bed, the pleasure outlasting every orgasm she’d ever experienced.

She was still whimpering when she heard another knock on the door.

“No, thank you,” Andy called out, “we’ve changed our mind. Please put the cancellation fee on the hotel bill.” To Tanya, he added. “Unless of course you fancy a threesome with the masseuse?”

Tanya was too spent to wonder what Andy was doing in her room. She was too spent to realize the implications of the fact that it was Andy who had just given her the most glorious ride of her life.

No comments: