Sex Writing

STORY: Jewels of the Tide

Posted in Alice Gray, Erotic Fiction, Erotica, Fiction, Sex, Sex Blog, Sex Writing, Sexuality, Writing on July 6th, 2010 by Alice Gray – 4 Comments

Jewels of the TideFurious pounding startled Jingo from a deep sleep. Last night’s entertainment lay sprawled across the bed next to her, oblivious to the racket. Jingo shifted in the bed, planted the soles of her feet against the sleeping man’s back and shoved.

The man let out a startled yelp that ended with a cry of pain when he hit the floor.

“See who dares to wake the Empress at this unearthly hour,” Jingo said.

The young man, still nude, scrambled for his clothing.

“Now! Forget your clothes.” Jingo pressed her palms against her temples. “Just make that noise cease!”

The young man, she thought his name might be Akihiro, raced for the door.

A warm flush spread over Jingo’s chest at the memory of the young man’s bedroom prowess. He might be worth inviting back. Jingo shivered as another thought formed. Before she could capture it, her evening companion yanked the door open, halting the insistent pounding.

“Who dares to wake me with such rudeness?” she asked.

An officer of the Royal Navy took a small step into her chamber, eyes averted from her nakedness. He bowed deeply and held the pose. Next to him, Akihiro stood shivering, his hands cupping his genitals.

“The Navy is back, Highness.” The hulking officer’s voice trembled. “The Koreans have defeated them. Captain Tadashi wished to bring you the message himself, however he was gravely wounded.”

Anger deepened the flush on Jingo’s chest. “Turn your backs,” she said. When they had turned, Jingo slipped from her bed and wrapped a light kimono around her body.

“You may face me.”

Both men turned.

“You!” She pointed a finger at Akihiro. “Leave us.”

The young man bowed and slipped away.

“Where is Tadashi now?”

“In the infirmary, Highness. They are trying to save his arm.”

Jingo was quiet for a moment, memories of the powerful warrior’s lovemaking tumbled through her mind. She sighed. An armless man was unworthy of sharing the Empress’s bed. Shame. Tadashi had been one of her favorites. Perhaps too favored. Well, no more.

“Return to me when he is able to speak. I want to know everything that happened.”

“Yes, Highness.” The soldier bowed and left.

# # #

Jingo sat in her tea house, enjoying a light meal. She watched in annoyance as one of her least favorite courtiers approached.

“Yes? What is it, Yuki?” Jingo let her displeasure show in her voice.

“Forgive me, Highness. I bring you the news that Captain Tadashi is ready to see you.”

A single butterfly sprang to life in Jingo’s belly. She quashed it by thinking of yet another defeat at the hands of the Koreans.

After five tense moments of silence, Jingo said, “Have him escorted to my sleeping chamber this evening.” She flicked a dismissive hand at her servant. “Go, now.”

The woman curtseyed and scurried away, leaving Jingo to work out the details of her plan. Korea must be her’s.

# # #

The Empress watched the last of her ladies retreating from her room. When she was alone, Jingo turned toward the mirror, admiring her own beauty. Royal robes, ivory hairpins, kohl eyes, crimson lips. And underneath the decorations, the lithe form of a siren. Empress or not, no man had ever refused her advances.

Two sharp knocks sounded, bringing the butterflies to light in her belly again.

She smoothed the front of her kimono and turned toward the door. “Enter!”

Her door swung open granting Tadashi access to her room. The sling that held his right arm to his chest marred the clean lines of his fresh uniform.

“Highness,” he said. “It is with deep shame that I must report our second defeat to the Koreans. They are fierce in defense of their homeland. We suffered many casualties.”

Jingo stood. “It is of no consequence. We will simply rebuild our ranks and try again. I must have Korea.” She stamped her foot for emphasis.

“It will take some time to rebuild and train new men. Perhaps as long as two years,” he said.

“Two years? Impossible!” Jingo paced, her robes swirling around her. “We must attack them again soon. They won’t be expecting us to come so quickly on the heels of another defeat.”

“Highness, I don’t think I’ve managed to convey the extent of our casualties. We’re nothing but a skeleton crew. Most of our officers are dead or severely maimed.” He shrugged his wounded arm for emphasis. “The lower ranks are all but wiped out. It will take years to rebuild.”

“Nonsense. Leave the Navy to me.” Jingo swept toward her captain in a rustle of fabric and jasmine-scented air. “Let us take a break from all this unpleasantness.” She untied the sash of her kimono and let it fall away. “You’ve been away so long, Tadashi. I’ve missed you.”

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Have It Your Way

Posted in Alice Gray, Erotic Fiction, Erotica, Fiction, Sex, Sex Writing, Writing on June 14th, 2010 by Alice Gray – Be the first to comment

More and more, I’ve been receiving requests for additional eBook formats from readers so that they might enjoy my work on their iPhones and Kindles. I want you to have it your way and Smashwords makes it easy to give you what you want.

I’ve started the process of converting some of my work for use with most eReaders and mobile devices. The first offering is Look Both Ways, a story of a voyeuristic young man who is infatuated with his beautiful new neighbor.

Click to Sample

Click to Sample

LOOK BOTH WAYS

An obsessed young man hides in the shadows to spy on his neighbor. Night after night, he stands in the darkness, smoking and watching through her window. Her reaction when she catches him takes him far beyond his wildest fantasy.

~*~

You can read an excerpt at Smashwords. It is also available for purchase.

Check back often as I’ll be uploading more of my work, including free stories, to Smashwords in the near future.

Happy Reading!

~Alice

Exerpt: Small Victory

Posted in Alice Gray, Erotic Fiction, Erotica, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Sex, Sex Writing on May 18th, 2010 by Alice Gray – 2 Comments

It’s been a while since the desire to write has taken hold of me. It thrills me to no end that when that desire struck, it focused on my WIP novel. Forgive me. This piece is very raw and has only seen the smallest bit of editing. It is what it is: a start. And for that, I’m grateful. #amwritingagain

# # #

Small Victory: the novel

It took an act of God to convince Erich to let me return to my rooms alone. There was no way to gauge whether he’d left or whether he stood lurking in the shadows. I had to trust that he’d accepted my promises to return to him in the morning. There was unfinished business between Noam and myself and no time to waste second-guessing the situation. I had no choice but to track Noam down and silence him.

A glance at the clock showed that I had nine hours until Erich showed up to collect me and my belongings. I hoped it was enough.

It took two hours to gather everything I planned to take with me to Erich’s apartment. I left the window shades open and all the lights on. If Erich was out there in the darkness, I wanted to make sure he saw me. I spent another hour in a hot bath then made a big show of closing up for the night.

Once the shades were drawn and the lights out, I moved quickly, feeling the pinch of time. The lingerie from Erich seemed appropriate attire to wear under my disguise though wearing it meant I had to leave my breasts unbound. The uniformed shirt was large enough to hide my feminine form so long as no one gave me more than a passing glance. Dressing as a man had become routine enough that it took only minutes to transform myself.

The first shadow of doubt stole over me. What if Noam had been telling the truth, not only about Moshe but also about my father? Moshe was dead and until a few short hours ago, I’d believed my father was dead as well. Noam hadn’t said where my father was. I had to assume he’d been deported to a camp along with all the countless others. He could be anywhere or nowhere. Regardless, it didn’t matter whether he was alive or dead other than my own selfish desire to rescue the one person who still loved me. The only way to save him lay in my ability to carry out my orders.

I stood in the dark quiet of my bedroom, steeling myself for the pivotal next five minutes. There were only two scenarios that would play out: either Erich would be waiting for me or he wouldn’t. If he were, everything would come to a screeching halt. There was a distinct possibility that less than ten minutes from now, I’d be dead or dying.

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POETRY: The Truth

Posted in Alice Gray, Erotic Fiction, Erotica, Poetry, Sex Writing, Sexuality on May 2nd, 2010 by Alice Gray – Be the first to comment

The Truth

She has enough rope
The lies will hang her high
Suspended cunt

Vamp ire is she
To prey on ether emotions
False diety is she

The lover’s taint
Denies his position, refuses the truth
That he is nothing

As long as you play
By her rules and tides
Blessed art thou

Forget the rules
Deny the tides
Back to nothing; Oblivion

STORY: Amusing Myself

Posted in Erotic Fiction, Erotica, Sex, Sex Blog, Sex Writing, Sexuality, Writing on March 4th, 2010 by Alice Gray – 2 Comments

Amusing MyselfMy mother spent a lot of time amusing herself. When I was younger, I had no idea what she meant. All I knew was that when she needed time to amuse herself, she’d retreat to the quiet confines of her bedroom and lock the door behind her.

Some mornings it’s there when I wake. Other days it needs a trigger. A scent. A subtle glance. An unexpected visual delight. Today, I only needed you. And today you were not available so I had to amuse myself.

A little preparation goes a long way. Like the tall glass mug on the bedside table next to me, filled to almost full with not quite boiling water. Like another item, also made of glass. One with delicate swirls of color circling the smooth rounded dome of one end and a dark circular ring on the other. One that’s turned like a fine piece of art from the lathe of an artisan and studded with small ruby beads along its length.

Final preparations. Locking the door, vibrations of my childhood ringing around me. Pulling the blackout shades. Lowering the lights. Putting the stereo on quietly in the background. Swaying to the music and beginning to imagine you here with me. Eyes closed as my hands trace the buttons on my sweater, the metal buckle of my belt. Fingers undoing each button until the sweater rests lightly on my shoulders, open in front. A quick shrug and backward arch of my back, arms outstretched behind me, sends the soft wooly material gliding off my arms, allowing me to pretend it was your hands that slid it from my body.

Hips still swaying, eyes still closed so I can picture you in my mind, my hands moving to my hips, sliding down between my still-clad thighs, just a quick tease, before loosening my belt and undoing the button, the zipper, on my favorite pair of jeans.

It’s cold in my room. My fingers are cold. My nipples are hard against the lacy cups of my bra. It’s time to change locations. Get comfortable. Get warmed up.

Climbing onto the bed on all fours, I make my final preparations. The soft tinkle of glass on glass sends a shiver through me as my favorite piece of intimate art slides into the waiting glass of hot water. I’m shivering from cold and excitement when I slip under my thick covers, hands feeling even icier than before.

Curling under the blankets in the fetal position, I press my hands together as though in prayer and tuck them between the tight seam of my thighs, searching for elusive warmth. What I find instead is the insistent throbbing between my legs. Hands still, I begin with small movements of my hips, arching my lower back, pushing my ass away from my body as my chilled fingers warm. The seam of my jeans pulls taut against hard knot of desire between my legs with the slightest, most delicious pressure.

One hand pulls away, finding the undone buckle of my belt, tracing the cold circular piece of steel. The quiet chink of metal on metal sends another shiver through me. Hips moving a little faster now, pushing my ass a little farther back, increasing the pressure of my jeans between my legs as the air under my covers heats up.

Cold air slips under the edges of my blankets when I roll onto my back. Bending my knees raises a tent under the covers. Thinking of you again now that I’m warm enough to enjoy myself. Fingers of one hand rest on my lower belly before gathering the material of my top out of my waistband. Flat palm running along the taut muscles of my belly, feeling the smooth hot skin underneath my fingertips, imagining your hand on my skin.
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