The dictionary defines inspires as to influence, or to compel. So, if we extrapolate from there, we can infer that an inspiration is the agent, or catalyst. With is a remarkably convoluted way to say, “My best friend, Jen, is the biggest reason for me continuing to write.”


I don’t know how many times I’ve used her as the template for my heroines in my works. Whenever I get around to actually completing my revisions, and actually publish them, you’d see her influence in them all. For the most part, they merely highlight a part of her personality. There is one character, who shares her name, who is almost 100% her. How and why is she my inspiration? Well, that is a twofold question (obviously).




Jen is, for me, the perfect woman. She has intelligence, humor, a rapier wit, and nigh boundless enthusiasm for life. She believes in people. No matter what, she trusts that they will, if given the chance, show how wonderful they are. Has that bitten her in the ass? Of course it has. But you know what? She still believes in them.

She’s one of the best writers I know. Her world building is slow-paced, but her plotting is pretty tight. Where she truly excels, though, is her characters. You can easily imagine them coming off the page and sitting with you to strike up a conversation. I look forward to the day she gets published. Then, I’ll be able to brag that I’m best friends with my favorite author. How many folks can say that?




In my life, not too many believed in me. I’m my biggest detractor. Jen, however, won’t stand for it. If I bitch and moan about something, she won’t hesitate to call me on it, or to give me the verbal kick in the ass that I need.

At the same time, when she knows that I’m truly down, or upset about something, she’ll remind me, “If you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen. I’m here for you.” Somehow, she always knows whether I need to hear trite, and tired “it’ll be alright” sayings, or if I need humor, sympathy, or “need me to kick someone’s ass.” She’s also full of great ideas for where to take my stories, or how to make them better.


Jennifer is my Ideal Reader. the one I write all of my stories for. I know that if I can make her laugh, or cry, or shout with amazement, that I will elicit the same for you.


So, thank you, Jen, for all you do for me. I don’t say it enough, I know, but I always – always appreciate you. You are my best friend, and the best person to come into my life so far. You may doubt yourself, but you can count on me always believing in you.

Into the Realm: The Chronicles of Carter Blake, Book I (C4,S3)

Previous subchapter here.


Subchapter 3


I came to with a faint headache. I sat up and clutched my skull, trying to keep my brain from leaping for freedom. I sensed someone nearby, but didn’t say anything. I wanted them to identify themselves first.

“Good. You are awake.”

I recognized the basso-profundo of Angriz. I turned to where I heard his voice coming from. I still could not see.

“It didn’t work, Angriz,” I said. I tried to keep the disappointment from my voice, but I don’t think I succeeded.

He gave a low chuckle. “I’m sorry. I forgot to light the fire.”

A familiar sound rumbled from him. When I saw a stream of fire race from his mouth to the fireplace, I recognized it. Then, “Holy crap, Angriz! I can see again!”

I leaped to my feet. In my excitement, I got my feet tangled in the blanket I’d been covered with, and slammed into the floor. I groaned in pain, and then remembered I was no longer blind. I sprang to my feet, exuberant, and made to throw my arms around my friend in my exuberance. I then spotted the blood-caked claw marks on his face.

“What happened to your face?”

“I forgot my place and Lady Soo-jau reminded me,” he said sotto-voce.

“I believe I will speak with her about this,” I growled as I headed for the door. ‘Even if she did fix my eyes, no one gets away with hurting my friends.’

“She forgave me my lapse.”

I stopped. “Is this a dragon thing?”


“But, you’re only a half-dragon. Why’re you being held to the same standards as a full-blood?”

He cleared his throat. “It’s…personal, Carter.”

“Damn.” I sighed.

When Angriz didn’t reply, I looked around and discovered a log cabin style room. What appeared to be mud chinked walls stood in a pentagonal shape. Tapestries hung from the walls on my left and right as I faced the fireplace. On the left, a forest scene with a deer drinking at a brook. The right hand one looked to be of the night sky. A fan of astronomy, I walked over to learn what constellations I could come up with. When I approached, the wall-hanging seemed to become three-dimensional. I smelled something like heated rose oil. It grew stronger until I was about two feet from the arras. The stars now surrounded me, to my delight. I’d never seen anything so remarkable! I reached out to try to touch one of the stars before I stopped myself. I did the same thing at the movies. As my hand approached, one of the stars grew larger until I spotted planets revolving. My jaw dropped as a grin grew on my face. ‘This is awesome! I gotta ask if I can have one of these!’ I reached for one of the planets next.

A sudden knock startled me. I blinked, and the tapestry had reverted back to its two-dimensional form. I opened the door. When my eyes fell upon the gorgeous woman on the other side, I forgot all about the tapestry. Her robes were palest azure trimmed with silver thread. Her hair, a fiery dark orange, hung over her right shoulder in a braid. Her eyes were the color of grass, her lips like sun-ripened strawberries and her flawless skin like ivory. A smudge of brown paint marked her high cheek bones and a golden necklace with a small bird pendant rested just above the swell of her bosom. Most surprising, her ears were pointed and pushed out a little through her hair. ‘Lady Orwen, you are the most beautiful woman I know, but this lady; she is magnificent.’

“Are you an elf?” I asked. Then, realizing how it must have sounded, I slapped myself in the forehead.

“Nae,” she laughed. “I be a half-elf. Me father be the full-blood.”

The memory of our previous meeting surfaced just then.

“Oh, yeah. I remember now. Your mother came from Éire.”


“So this is what you look like, Keeper Dearbhaile,” I said, my voice husky. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you, Lord Blake,” she said, blushing.

Her burr was almost gone. ‘Curious. I’ll have to ask her about that.’

Angriz spoke up from over my shoulder. “Is Lady Soo-jau waiting for us?”

“Oh, aye! The Lady sent me tae learn whether Laird Blake had risen and tae invite ye both tae dinner if he had.”

She turned and hurried off. I gave into temptation and watched her hips sway as she glided away. After she was out of sight, I turned to Angriz.

“Please tell me I can bathe. I reek,” I said.

“Indeed,” he replied.

He led me to the back of the house. He opened a door and gestured me inside. I entered and saw a bathroom which wouldn’t have been out-of-place in a mansion back home. The hardwood floor resembled black oak. The ceiling appeared to be glass. As I watched, clouds scudded across the sky. I gathered from their swift movement a storm would hit soon. I looked back at the rest of the bathroom. The tub, hidden by a line of actual shrubs, was the size of an Olympic pool yet not artificial in form. The builders built over a natural pool. I glanced to my right. ‘And over a brook as well.’ Across from where I stood, buffalo grass grew right up to the edge of the water. The pool itself was strewn with cattails and water lilies. Bullfrogs and crickets chirred nearby. A single willow tree made up one wall. The others, marble and the white of fresh snow. ‘I’m in someone’s sacred meadow.’

I don’t know how long I stood, mesmerized by the beauty before me. A knock at the door brought me back to my senses. I shucked my clothes in a hurry as I called back to the door. “Yeah?”

“Just checking to make sure you were still alive,” responded Angriz.

I laughed as I slid into the warm water. “What would you have done if I had been under water and missed your knock?”

“Came in, and when I found you were okay, drowned you for worrying me.” He chuckled.

“I’ll be done in about ten minutes.”

“I’ll inform Lady Soo-jau.”

I finished my ablutions in a hurry and found the pile of clean clothing someone had left for me along with a four-foot length of deer hide to dry myself with. I dried and dressed, then went out looking for my friends. I took in all the sights, like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

The theme I noticed in the bathroom continued throughout the house: Three walls of pure white marble with the fourth being the trunk of an enormous tree. The flooring continued to be black oak and the ceilings were all glass, or maybe crystal. The place had to have been constructed with magic.

Soon, I found my way to the dining area, appointed in a Japanese and Roman blend. ‘I wonder how they achieved this effect. Have other people come here besides me and Keeper Dearbhaile’s mom?’ The table was situated low to the ground, and at each side was a couch. An older woman with blue tinged skin reclined at the far end of the table from me. Angriz and Keeper Dearbhaile knelt at the table to the woman’s left and right sides. From this positioning, I assumed she was Soo-jau, the Weirdling. As I crossed the room, I continued to look around. The wall behind Angriz was a huge stained glass window depicting a blue dragon lying with an emerald one by a wooded glen. Behind Dearbhaile ranks of gladiator statues lined a marble wall. Behind Soo-jau stood three wooden Tiang Roman pillars that rose to the ceiling. To either side of the pillars were shoji, a sliding rice-paper partition. What appeared to be Tatami mats rested on the floor. Servants came and went: bowing, placing platters of food, removing empty ones and refilling cups and glasses. I approached the table and bowed forty-five degrees to everyone, beginning with the lady and ending with Angriz.

“Please forgive this one’s lateness,” I said, imitating something I’d seen in a samurai movie. I was inspired by the scenery.

“Nothing to forgive, Carter,” said the lady on the couch.

I recognized her soft voice. She was indeed Soo-jau. She gestured for me to sit at the table. When I began to take a position near Angriz, the Lady beckoned me closer to her.

“You shall sit at my right hand.”

I did as she bade. A servant placed a brace of rabbit on a plate before me. The rabbits were roasted to a golden brown perfection. The aroma wafting upwards into my nose had my mouth watering. With a surreptitious glance around me, I noted the others were eating. So, without further hesitation, I began to devour the rabbit. I spotted a bowl of green vegetables. I pulled them over and began to scarf them. Angriz and I had only been traveling for a couple of days, but I felt as if I hadn’t eaten any vegetables in forever. Next was a tureen of a stew with thick chunks of boar floating near islands of potato. Here and there were carrot pieces sticking up like a jagged reef. Though I’d been eating for the last twenty minutes, the scent of the herbs and spices coming from the stew caused my stomach to give a loud growl. A muffled chuckle came from my left. I glanced at the Vaush-Tauric’s apprentice, then resumed my eating. She slid a platter of fresh biscuits over to me. I murmured my thanks, grabbed a biscuit, dunked it into my bowl of stew and took a large bite, moaning with pleasure at the taste.

“Hungry, Carter?” Angriz asked.

Rather than responding with sarcasm, I grunted and continued to eat. Seeing a plate of fish had been placed within reach, I pulled it to me. A massive belch threatened to erupt from me. I did my best to stifle it, but it still managed to rumble through despite the tightness of my lips. Again, from my left, came a muffled giggle. My face heated with embarrassment.

“Compliments to the host’s kitchen!” said Lady Soo-jau.

This caused everyone else in the room to give a shout of laughter. I ducked my head and paused in my eating. I hated the shame that welled up within me. This reminded me of that time in kindergarten when my class got to visit the White House and have lunch with the President of the United States. We had won a contest by being the kindergarten class that had raised the most money for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. I had belched at the table, causing almost everyone to laugh. I was pulled from the table by my teacher and lectured on how “nice people didn’t do things like that at the table”.

A warm hand touched my shoulder. I glanced over to Keeper Dearbhaile. She had a look of concern on her face.

“Are ye unwell, Laird Blake?” she said in a soft voice, fingering her necklace.

“Yeah. Just reliving a bad memory. I’m okay now.”

“I apologize if me laughin’ caused ye pain.”

“No,” I lied. “It’s something else.”

I put on a big smile for her benefit. She gave me a warm smile in return, then patted my shoulder and returned to her meal. I’d been so focused on her that I hadn’t noticed that conversation had resumed around me. I resumed eating as well when Lady Soo-jau spoke to me. “I understand that Angriz has begun to teach you how to fight with a sword.”

“Correction, ma’am, he has begun to teach me the care of a sword and the various parts of a sword.”

“What are the common parts of a sword?”

“A sword is comprised of a tip, edge, fuller, tang and hilt, which is made up of the guard, grip and pommel, Lady Soo-jau.”

“Excellent. What is the best way to care for a sword?”

“First thing in the morning, the sword is removed from the scabbard, wiped down with a cloth – rabbit skin is best, but deer hide will do in a pinch – then the edge is sharpened. After sharpening, the blade is wiped down with a grit cloth and then buffed with a polishing rag. At the end, you rub a light coat of oil over the length of the blade and re-sheathe.”

“Excellent, Carter. You are taking to your lessons well.”

I smiled with pleasure at the compliment. I had heard similar words from Angriz, but they seemed different somehow when Lady Soo-jau said them.

“Carter,” boomed Angriz. “Tell the Lady what you have learned about pumice.”

I decided to add what I learned about it from my world, in addition to what he had taught me.

“Pumice is a term for a volcanic rock that is solidified frothy lava created when super-heated, pressurized rock is ejected from a volcano. It has a sulfurous odor, yet is excellent for cleaning swords. If dried blood, rust, or other undesirable element is on the blade, a light scrubbing with a pumice stone will clean it off in a matter of moments.”

“Excellent, my boy. I am a grand teacher, am I not, Lady?”

“You are indeed, Sir Angriz,” she said with a chuckle.

“Lady Soo-jau,” I asked, changing the subject, “how is it that you were able to restore my sight? I was told that the magic of this world wouldn’t affect me.”

“I used ancient draconic magic to heal your sight. Who told you that magic couldn’t heal you?”

“Lord Mordecai. He told me I was immune to magic.”

She scowled. “That is odd that Mordecai would tell you this. He is no beginner. I’d wager he knows more of magic than I.”

As I puzzled through this line of conversation, I was well aware of the gorgeous elf woman sitting to my left. Every movement, and change in breathing I noted. I know: you are wondering how I have these reactions to Lady Orwen and Keeper Dearbhaile if I have feelings for my lab partner Daphne Sinclair, right? Allow me to remind you: I am fourteen years old. According to what biology teaches us, I should be reacting like this to just about any female within ‘breeding age’.

I searched for something to say when there was a streak of gray before my eyes. I blinked and was fascinated by something familiar perched upon the table near my plate. The creature came forward and rubbed his head on my left hand like a cat. I grinned, at the same time, Keeper Dearbhaile shrieked. Somehow I knew this was the Slitter which had adopted me at Victory Keep.

Keeper Dearbhaile leaped to her feet in fright. She pointed her finger at the Slitter and electricity began to play over it. I put my right hand out and the Slitter ran up my arm and huddled on my shoulder. I looked at her and waited with a calm that wasn’t one hundred percent real. She looked at me with a sheepish expression and lowered her hand, the electricity dying away as she did.

“He’s a friend,” I said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shocking that a Slitter can be friendly, huh?”

“Aye,” she said.

“This one was raised by Lady Orwen to help defend her home,” I explained. “For reasons I haven’t fathomed, this one has decided to adopt me.”

The Slitter clambered up to my head and curled its fingers in my hair as he sat. Seconds later, he made a series of sounds that were similar to underwater flatulence. I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help myself: it was funny. What made it even better was seeing Keeper Dearbhaile laughing as hard.

Lady Soo-jau ignored our laughter and made the same type of sounds herself. I fell from my chair, convulsed with laughter. The Slitter leaped back to the table in seeming disgust. I was soon joined on the floor

by Keeper Dearbhaile. The Slitter and Lady continued to take turns making the sounds. I laughed so long and hard, my jaw cramped and ribs began to ache.

I was hauled to my feet. “Control yourself, Carter.” said Angriz.

Having a seven-foot tall half-dragon growl at you is a sobering experience, let me tell you. My desire to laugh withered. I turned to Lady Soo-jau. Out of the corner of my eye, I detected Keeper Dearbhaile returning to her feet, solemn. She brushed off her robes and sidled behind me; making me the sole focus of the Vaush-Tauric’s wrath if any came. She played with her necklace again.

Lady Soo-jau continued to make the sounds with the Slitter. I noted a rhythm to the sounds which escaped me earlier. Then, it hit me: they were conversing!

“They’re going to be a while, Carter. You should retire for the evening,” Angriz whispered.

“Why are they going to be a while?” I asked.

“Slitters are used to conversing with treebeards which are the only race with the patience to chat at length with them. Introductions will last several hours.”

I had heard that somewhere before, but couldn’t remember where.

“Got it,” I said. I looked over my shoulder to the half-elf woman standing behind me. “Keeper Dearbhaile, would you show me back to my room? I’m worried I’ll get lost.”

“O’ course, me laird,” she replied.

I burst out laughing.

“What is funny?”

“Sorry. Private thoughts caused me to laugh.”

“Fair enough.”

I had read the same thing about characters in a book by J.R.R. Tolkien a while ago. I stretched out in my bed after Keeper Dearbhaile left me to enter my room, and closed my eyes.

Into the Realm: The Chronicles of Carter Blake, Book I (C4, S2)

Previous subchapter is here.


Subchapter 2


Angriz and I approached the Vaush-Tauric’s home early the next morning. We were met by someone other than Soo-jau. She had a different scent and a lighter tread.

“Welcome tae Lady Soo-jau’s home,” a euphonious feminine voice said.

‘Wait a moment. I recognize that accent. The speaker is Gaelic!’

Ignorant of my inner consternation, Angriz replied, “Thank you, Keeper Dearbhaile. This silent one beside me is-”

“Carter Blake. My mistress told me much of  ye.”

“You’re Gaelic,” I blurted.

“Gaeilge atá tú?”


“I’m sorry. I said, ‘Are ye Gaelic?’ I thought ye might be.”

“No, I recognize the brogue.”

Keeper Dearbhaile giggled. “A gift from me mother. She be from Éire.”

I recognized the old name of the country I knew as Ireland. “Der va la?” I said. “A lovely sounding name.”

“Thank ye. Your pronunciation be excellent, Laird Blake! No one else evair gotten it right on the firs’ go.”

“When did your mother leave Éire?”

“In 1125 AD.”

Lady Soo-jau approached before I asked Dearbhaile anything else. I turned my wrapped eyes towards her. Soft hands pulled the cloth from my face. A brief inhalation came as one of the women got sight of the empty holes where my eyes had been. The two women stood close to me, so I didn’t know which one made the sound. A sudden exhalation of air against my face, and blinding pain ripped through my skull, centered on my eye sockets. I clapped my hands to the re-injured area as I screamed in agony. I fell backward to the ground, feeling as if someone had filled my empty sockets with ground glass and was grinding the shards into the delicate tissue. After an eternity of pain, I slipped into unconsciousness.


Continues here.

Falling Into You Cover Reveal!

My friend, L.T.Kelly, has decided to allow me to assist in revealing the cover for her sequel to Falling to Pieces, her smashing debut novel.


Are you ready?


Here it is:






Marc Romano disappeared without a trace into the darkness. His lover became overwhelmed with grief in her loss. But her grief takes on a much more murderous form than most, for Teagan Lewis is a vampire.

Now her heartache is driving her further from the woman she once was, and she realises she must snap out of her monstrous habits and discover the way back to her old self. But how?

Ending their trip around Europe, Teagan and her friend Alex head back to New York. Teagan has the full intention of carrying out a dangerous plan here; not just physically dangerous, but emotionally as well.

How will she be able to resist the irresistible? And what of the new rival, Ivan Lenin? He threatens her life and the lives of everyone she loves. The only people who can help her are her sworn enemy and an ancient stranger. Will they assist her?

How will Teagan Lewis face the demons of her past and try to find happiness? Will she stay and fight or will she run from the things she must face in order to finally be at peace? Mistakes will be made. People will die. The time has come…

Look for it May 2014


Go stalk follow L.T. here:


WARNING: Sexually Explicit Materials. Don’t Read If That Bothers You

     He took her hands in both of his, then caressed her knuckles with his thumbs. A few seconds later, he brought her hands up, and kissed her fingers. Next, he raised her hands above her head, and pinned them to the wall behind her. He then brought his head close to hers. His lips were close enough to brush hers, but he had something else in mind. He whispered, “I’m going to set your world on fire.” His lips graze hers with every syllable.

      He transferred her left hand to his left, so that both of her hands were trapped by it. The next instant, his fingertips trailed over her forehead, down over her cheekbone, and along her jaw. He used the ball of his thumb to trace the outline of her lips. He slanted his mouth over hers and beckoned her tongue inside his own. He delighted in the sensations of her tongue gliding over his teeth, swirling around his tongue, then gently sucking on it.

     At the same time, his right index finger circled the base of her breast through her bra and t-shirt. After the first revolution, his finger rose a bit, and traced another circle. This continued until his index finger circled her areola. He then ever so gently pinched her nipple, and tugged on it.

     He softly captured her lower lip between his teeth, and lightly pulled away, loosening his grip until her lip scraped free of his teeth. He cupped her breast with his hand, and gave a gentle squeeze. At her moan, his hand slid down her side to the hem of her shirt. He raised it just enough for his index finger to glide, barely touching, over her skin, just above her jeans waistband. When he got to the spot just above her snap, he paused.

     He slowly dragged his finger up her belly, adding another with each centimeter of movement. When he reached her navel, he splayed his hand over her abdomen, then slowly closed his hand, lifting his palm away until only his fingertips remained, lightly grazing her flesh. His hand then slipped up until he encountered her bra. Once more, he cupped her breast, except now, she could feel his fingers on the upper part of it.

     Using his index and middle fingers, he caressed her upper breast, then slipped his finger under the strap. He dragged his digit down, following the contour of her brassière. His finger encountered her hard nipple, and danced over it for a couple of seconds. At the same time, his left hand glided under her shirt and softly captured her other breast. He played with her breasts for a few seconds, then sank to his knees.

     Leaving her shirt bunched under her breasts, he rained feathery kisses over her abdomen. He reveled in the feel of her velvety smooth skin covering the firm muscles under his lips. He gradually made his way up to her bra, then kissed her breasts through it.

     He returned to his feet, carefully removed her shirt, and lifted her in his arms. He carried her over to the massive four poster bed, and tenderly lay her upon it. He stretched out beside her, and began his exploration of her body.

     First, he recaptured her hands, then her lips. He took the lead this time, savoring the faintly minty taste of her mouth. His tongue lightly fenced with hers before swirling around it. He coaxed her tongue into his mouth, lightly suckled on it, then very carefully nibbled it.

     After a few minutes of kissing, he moved to trailing kisses along her jaw line, then kissed down the side of her neck. At the mid-point, he gently bit. He pulled away, allowing his teeth to lightly graze her skin, then resumed his downward path.

     He alternated between kissing, licking, and nibbling as he traveled from her neck, to her collarbone, to her chest. He gently nibbled on the parts of her breasts left exposed by the cut of her bra. He slipped the straps down her arms, and trailed kisses along the path they took.

     She slid her arms out of the loops of the straps, and he reverently, gradually revealed her breasts to his sight for the first time. He moaned in delight, and lightly licked her boobs in the same pattern his finger had traced earlier. He ended with suckling on her left nipple for several seconds. He then turned his attention to the right one, but he moved in the reverse of the previous pattern: He started with suckling on her right nipple before tracing the circumference of her boob with his tongue. When he reached the base, he kissed his way between her breasts and down the middle of her torso.

     He unsnapped her jeans, and pulled them open. He placed a kiss over the center of her lovely lady, then skipped down to her thighs. He massaged and caressed her thighs, and calves, then removed her shoes and socks. He rose up to his knees and pulled her jeans off.

     Starting with her ankles, he kissed, licked, and nibbled his way up the inside of her legs. When he got to the adductor mangus muscle (the one near her lovely lady), he paused, and lightly nibbled on it, then kissed his way back and forth. Soon, the heat of her captured his attention, and he focused on the damp blue satin of her panties. He slowly, and carefully traced the outline of her lady bits through them.

     The arching of her hips, and her moans of pleasure are entrancing. She asked him to stop teasing her. He looked up. “I’m not teasing you, my love. I’m exploring your body. Learning what you like.”

     “You already know.” She gasped the words as his index finger slid over the front of her panties.

     “Not quite. For example, do you prefer this?” He applied a tiny bit of pressure to the spot just above her clit.

     Her hips arched firmly against his hand as her groan. “Mmm. Yes.”

     “Or do you prefer this?” He very gently closed his mouth over her lovely lady.

     Her fingers sank into his hair and she simultaneously pushed his head closer to her hips as she pushed them against his face. The heat which had been slowly building under his ministrations exploded through her body, robbing her of breath and coherent thought. Every fiber of her being was locked on the sensation of his mouth on her sex. Her muscles tightened and locked for several glorious seconds, as she cried out. With the release of her voice, all her muscles relaxed, leaving her limp and spent. She lay sprawled out, attempting to catch her breath.

     “That was beautiful, Baby Girl.” She laughed tiredly at his words. “Ready to go again?”

     “No.” She panted. “I can’t.”

     “You can, and will.”

     He hooked the leg of her panties to the side, and slowly inserted his finger into her. Her fingers tightened in his hair again. “Rob.” The way she sighed his name was intoxicating.

      He withdrew, then slowly slid his digit back in. At the same time, he lowered his head, and gently blew a soft breeze over her wetness. Her moan is both surprised, and pleased. He knew this, too, was brand new for her. He slid his finger in and out a few more times, marveling at how tightly she gripped it in her velvety heat.

     The slow tenderness of his movements brought her to the edge again. He looked up and told her to go over for him. “I want you to come on my hand, my darling.”

     The loving command caused her self-control to slip again. The heat swept through her once more as her body went stiff and tense. The tension caused her to shake, then it was like a dam broke. Her muscles went slack as she cried out once again.

     Before she was able to catch her breath, his finger sped up inside her, and he told her to come again for him. For the third time, her consciousness dwindled to a tiny point, centered right where his finger glided in and out of her. An orgasm ripped through her again.

     When she came down, she discovered that he had returned to kissing her inner thigh. It felt good, but she was a little distracted by the way her muscles jumped and quivered. He drew her attention to his activities by giving her inner thigh a sharp, yet gentle nip.

     Using his teeth, he pulled her panties down and off.  He next moved back and forth, softly kissing the inside of each thigh. Every so often, but not so that she could anticipate when, he gave a little nibble to her sensitive skin. After what felt like hours to her heightened senses, his lips arrived at her hot, wet center.

     He trailed kisses over her labia, travelling from the bottom right, up over her mons, and down to the bottom of the left one. He then traced the outline of her lovely lady with the tip of his tongue, moving from left, up, and around to the right. His tongue then slid up, between her labia. He almost, but not quite, touched her clit before moving back down. As her hands tightened in his hair, he used his fingers to gently part her labia and slowly drag his tongue between them until he lightly flicked her clit with it.

     Her hips bucked against his mouth and he then circled her clit with his tongue. She lifted his head up. When their eyes made contact, she spoke. “Get up here. I want you inside me.”

      He grinned. “When?”

     She growled. “Right now.”

     He shook his head. “Not yet.”

     “Why not?”

     “I’m enjoying the taste of your pussy.”

     He then returned to the sweetest torture she had ever experienced. His tongue danced from here to there, touching her clit, flicking over it, and sliding back and forth between her labia. And then, she discovered how evil he could be.

     Every time she got close to the precipice, he switched to doing something else. His tongue circled her clit until he heard the change in her vocalizations, then he moved to kissing just beside the lovely lady. When they indicated that he was bringing her close, he switched to licking the inner curve of her hip. She would have become frustrated, and angry, but his teasing had her too focused on the pleasures of what he was doing for upset to gain traction.

     Finally, she could take it no more. “Rob.” He didn’t notice. She pushed at his head. “Robilar.” Her voice was louder this time.

     He raised his head. “Yes, my love.”


     His eyebrows went up. “Stop what?”

     “Teasing.” His finger slid into her again. “Mmm.”

     “Teasing?” She nodded. “Teasing who?”

     His finger made a beckoning gesture within her, the tip brushing against her g-spot. She clamped down on his finger, ready to come hard, but then he stopped his movements. “Me!”

     “What about you?” He grinned, clearly enjoying her inability to speak clearly.

     “Stop teasing me!”



     He ignored her surprise, and returned to exploring her sensitive areas. He learned that when he captured her clit gently between his teeth, and rapidly flicked his tongue over it, after so much teasing, she come hard, and loud. Her legs clamped hard around his neck, her hips arched so hard against his face he felt like she was about to break his neck, but he didn’t stop.

     Her hands pushed at the top of his head, trying to get him to stop. Instead, he released her clit, and began to flick the spot just beneath it, and slipped a second finger inside her. This sent her over the edge again, calling his name, and bucking even harder against him.  He savored the taste of her, and when she released her grip on him, he kissed his way up the center of her until he was able to reclaim her lips. At the same time, he slid into her. The hot, wet, velvety tightness was almost enough to make him come, but he bit hard on the side of his tongue. This wasn’t about him. It was about giving her as much pleasure as he could. He wanted her to be happy. He loved showing her how much he loved her.

      He usually showed her in other ways, but this time, he had the privilege of doing so physically.