Happiness Is a Tickle Hole

The great Alison Tyler has asked the world to post happy erotica. I'm always happy to oblige AT; and if there's one thing I can oblige with, it's happy smut.

Here's an excerpt from "Another Hole Week," which was my contribution to Alison's Afternoon Delight collection. Happy reading!

Thursday

Why should I go to the trouble of tickling Lucille through the sweatband on her wrist, when the rest of her beautiful arm is entirely naked? Because I can’t resist a tickle hole, that’s why—and she knows it.

Oh, don’t worry: I also kiss up and down that sun-gold tennis skin; lick the shower-fresh underarm; and gently sample the parabola of her shoulder with my teeth. But it’s all to the tempo of that tickle-tickle-tickle on her wrist, where I stroke her like a whispering second hand.

This tickle hole frames her pulse, and the pulse, quickening, strokes me back. Can a finger have an orgasm? Mine could be the first.

Her arm swings with me, hedonistically, like a hammock that’s anchored to my pointer. Her cheeks flush, and she giggles languidly, in spurts, in a manner reminiscent of bubbles slowly birthing over ice cubes in a frosted glass. My mind is soon filled with a giant image of moist tennis panties.

Lucille never misses her game, and I know today will be no exception. I wish I could lie on the clay, squint up in the sunlight, and watch her juice baking dry under her skirt.

Tickle-tickle-tickle. Tickle-tickle-TOCK.

She’s saturated, for now. Satiated will come later.

In the midst of scrambling to gather her things, she tosses me an independent, pristine pair of white knickers from her dresser. She doesn’t have time to explain that she expects to find my come stains on them when she returns in two hours. I figure it out, though.

Philadelphia: The Emerald City!

If you're in shouting distance of Philadelphia (I'm not, alas, but I'm speaking to you through a megaphone), be sure to catch the dazzling Emerald tomorrow night at the fabulous Erotic Literary Salon! That's Tuesday, December 21. Details here.

Mozart My Figaro!

Attention, fans of classical-music kink: Liberator.com is featuring an excerpt from Rock My Socks Off that I hope will really mozart your figaro!

Liberator is now stocking RMSO among their sex-positive supplies of various kinds—and everything is 20% off through end of today!

Crackers, Salsa, and Me!

The wonderful Donna George Storey is serving parmesan crackers, chipotle salsa, and me today, as we chat about my story collection Spark My Moment.


See you at Donna's!

Barnestorming!

Rock My Socks Off is now available directly through Barnes & Noble. This means those of us who are in the U.S. can now put it straight into our shopping carts at BN.com, for shipment within a couple of days at B&N's special online price.

This is great news; but even greater would be a decision by some of Barnes & Noble's brick-and-mortar stores to stock my brick-and-mortar book right on their brick-and-mortar shelves. And—who knows—perhaps if enough people order the book fast enough through the website, Corporate will recommend it as a stock item.

So here's my pitch to anyone in the U.S. who is contemplating picking up Rock My Socks Off in paperback:

1. You order the book from BN.com by midnight Pacific Time on Sunday, December 12. (For the purposes of my Barnestorming offer, you must order directly from B&N, not from their network of "trusted sellers." You may special order it through a brick-and-mortar sales clerk at your local brick-and-mortar Barnes and Noble—that would qualify for my special offer—but I believe you'll then be paying the full list price.)

2. You e-mail me [jerotic AT gmail DOT com] to tell me you've done so.

3. I send you a free copy of my six-story e-book collection, Laura the Laugher. (This is a .pdf—readable on any computer.)

And that's my Barnestorming brainstorm.

[For RMSO summary, reviews, etc., visit my website.]

Erotochanukomedy!

The wonderful Erotica For All site is currently featuring my comedic tale of Chanukah chijinks, "The Golden Latke." This is the first time this piece has been available anywhere as a free read.

“I haven’t been with a man in a while,” Joyce confessed just inside the door to her room.

“Don’t worry,” said Bernie. “It’s like riding a—er, it’s okay.”

Joyce giggled, sounding tipsier than she was. “How do you expect me to stay in the mood if you’re constantly making me laugh?”

“Making you laugh is precisely how I’m hoping to keep you in the mood.”

See you in the Catskills!

Golly G!

If you pick up a copy of Foreplay no. 6 from your friendly neighborhood UK newsagent, you'll find a new story of mine called "The Gushing Ghost of Grafenberg Falls." I hope this tale of paranormal fun hits the, um, spot!

Jean’s funny look deepened into a knowing one. “You may think this is crazy... but it’s rumored there’s a benign ghost in that house.”

The young man laughed. “You’re suggesting it’s a puddle of ectoplasm?”

“Not exactly,” said Jean, pushing a lock of hair away from her eyes. She walked to a bookshelf and brought an old photo album to the table.

(Also look for my work in Desire Presents Fetish, v. 3, no. 6.)