A Users Guide: How To Show Up to F*ck a Turned On Woman

I loved this when I first read it and recently went back to it again. So smart. -LC

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By Nicole Daedone  Originally published on her blog www.NicoleDaedone.com on 8/8/12

This is what I have come to understand. There is absolutely zero context for men to know how to fuck a Turned On Woman—meaning a woman who is free, who is capable of what I call Unconditional Sex; sex that is not saddled with “conditions” such as promises of wedding proposals, dishwashers, babies. A woman who owns her sex and does not need to use it for barter, who has the wealth and luxury—both energetic and emotional—to use it for her pleasure.

A man I’ve been seeing said, “Yeah, we (men) don’t know what to do because that kind of woman is like a unicorn”.

Sex has been the purview of men, and as such its uses have mostly been masculine. Not a problem in and of itself, but in my opinion a woman’s touch is needed in the arena of what it “means.” I see a polarization of sorts, where, running from sex-as-gravely-significant or sex-for-procreation, the masculine veers way to the other end of the scale: devoid of any emotion, connection or caring; wanton, gluttonous. The only reasons for a woman to engage would be (a) desperation, (b) the “god-given” woman’s agenda (to snag a man in her snare) or, worst of all, (c) that she approaches sex “like a man.” In the present context it is absolutely impossible that a woman could maintain her femininity; still like to yield and surrender; want deep connection and love sex… with—gasp!—more than one person. (Oh, and not be salacious and therefore open to anything from BDSM and gang bangs.) Within the game as it exists, this is a total non-sequitur.

We lack gradients, we live in an either/or perspective. Either a woman’s legs are locked and closed and safe and healthy or else they are open to just about anything flying in there. In the present context it is unthinkable that a woman could both practice discernment and feed her beast. I suppose that it is assumed that she is too fragile to tame the thing. And I suppose this is because we underestimate the power of love as the most powerful trainer.

One of the responses I get most often is that it is intimidating to be with a woman who is facile in the arena of sex. Not “thank god,” not “finally we can see what this thing can do,” but “how do I compare to other guys?” Which leads me to believe that men are not liberated sexually either. Their prowess only goes so far, it is in the hunt, but the having, the devouring is beyond both sexes. There is a hungry ghost rattling around the male psyche that rarely gets exposed. When it does, it goes something like this: I am good at wanting, craving, reaching, begging, but when the food is placed on my table, for some reason I am incapable of eating it. Part of the conditioning of the male psyche is that for a man to admit that he didn’t pounce, it would mean that he was of all things a “pussy,” the worst thing for a man to be, and her sexual appetite makes her a harlot, too man-like—put your negative connotation here—the worst thing she could be.

What I am getting is that we are in one of those Chinese finger locks, both are stuck, each hoping the other has the solution. Yes, the solution is to stop pulling away from each other. It is to stand in the face of this orgasm and brave our various sets of conditioning in order to enter and meet inside of it.

As far as I can tell the biggest challenge for women is a sense of hopelessness that it will ever be “any good”, that it will ever be sex from her native land, the kind where her body can open and she can lose herself. Time and again I hear, he’s too rough, he’s too fast, he doesn’t have enough attention. When I ask these women if they show these men what to do or slow them down, they sink into the paralysis of learned helplessness with an underlying preemptive anger. (And the unconscious fear of being the deer who suddenly turns and tells the lion how to take this meal to the next level.) The assumption is that a man doesn’t want to learn. And I would say, yes, learning occurs in the brain as physical pain. Yes learning is hard. No one likes it. And ultimately it is the only thing that brings us gratification. And I sincerely have never met a man who was not open to suggestion—sometimes they feel clumsy and stupid and try to hide it with bravado (like we all do), but with care and communication, they do have a deep desire.

The biggest challenge I see that men face is the “what is in it for me” mentality, which is devastating in the arena of sexuality. Great for business, bad for orgasm. The daemon which is a fundamental sexual energy, the necessary element of self-seeking that takes her, has run a bit rampant in the conditioned psyche of man such that no matter how much he grabs, he never gets his. That is the real nature of a hungry ghost. The conditioned psyche of men in this culture is that they can grab and grab but they cannot ingest. The daemon has got a hold of them and they are doing its bidding and it will never be gratified. This is why we see masculine driven sex in this culture as empty calories; that devoid of emotion, it is based solely on consumption but not nourishment. And it is a catch-22 in that the constant craving for more that in turn leads toward self seeking prevents the actual nourishment that would bring gratification.

Women hold the counter-pose or the antidote. But dammit, we won’t administer it. We won’t administer it because to do so we would need a place to plug the IV into and that would be straight into the vein of sex. And all the things that would signify about us that we are unwilling to claim. But this isn’t mere weakness or petulance. It lies in the fact that one’s capacity to stand in truth, to not lose oneself in a sea of opinions, to live essentially in an autonomous mind, a room of one’s own, is a result of contacting one’s own daemon as one does through… you got it… orgasm. Again, catch 22— she does not have the muscle to steer sex into the arena of what she likes and wants because she is not having the sex she wants which would develop that muscle. In other words, women do not have the power surging thorough them to withstand judgment about their sex and so do not bring the “other half” of sex, that would nourish both, into the equation.

579178_10152237903185494_755372263_nBut someone’s gotta give. You can’t go to the gym to look good enough to go to the gym. At some point you just gotta face the fact that it is going to hurt. Guys, it is going to screw with your masculinity but you are going to have to be with a woman who is facile enough in the sexual arena, free of all of the signifiers that make you a man, like the agreement to play chaste and subservient. And you are going to have to reward these women for giving you an education that hurts in the receiving. And that will require you to postpone the “getting yours” because in this case “yours” is the receiving of this education which is more a marathon than a sprint and will result in you shifting into a mindset that goes from mere quantity to quality, which ultimately nourishes you and quells the craving or converts it into depth.

And women friends, you are just going to have to withstand the throwing of tomatoes. What is the alternative? Keep your orgasm tamped down for another thousand years because you were unwilling to be called a few names or forego the illusion of there ever being a savior. Yes, there is a savior and guess what— you are it. You are here to save sex from the devastating state it’s in, unless porn, and weird sex where you have to use foreign words like yoni, or medicalized sex replete with medication, is your thing.

Here’s where you start. You admit you want it. Then you determine that are going to make it good. Not that you are going to hope and pray beyond all hope that this guy will be the one to magically “get it.” You are going to insure beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is brilliant and successful. You are going to make it through the dip. The dip is where everyone quits. It’s what Organic Chemistry is to medical school: the class that filters out about 80 per cent of students because it is so challenging. And the dip in terms of your orgasm is your willingness to withstand judgment about being a Turned On Woman. If you can make it through that dip, you have earned your stripes and deserve to have access to the power that orgasm can bring. But you’ve got to earn your chops and withstand the presumptions and assumptions about what it means for a woman to be sexual and then even worse, right when you want to konk them on the head and say “are your out of your friggin’ mind?”—you are going to educate. You are going to educate people into a new way— a way where sex without conditions does not mean sex without consciousness. In the same way it is not weakness that has one able to love unconditionally, it actually stems from strength, it is not desperation that has a woman sex unconditionally, it actually stems from power.

With this in mind, I thought I would give a little guide for the guys as to how to prepare to meet with a Turned on Woman. Sort of like when you are going to camp and they tell you how to prepare—this is How to Prepare to Fuck a Turned On Woman. Mind you, this is just how to prepare to fuck this turned on woman, but in holding up my end of the deal, the one where I make sure that you are brilliant and successful with me—here goes.

We can make this very easy. Set a time and show up on time. Both of us will be feeling a certain anticipation. We will be riding that edge of turn on and irritation. The more we can both stay inside the parameters we agree on in terms of logistics, the more we will develop trust and the more powerfully we can let go. I know how to manage sexual tension in my body, how to allow it to build and build. To a point. Often you hear about a woman being dramatic. Its not drama—it’s screech level anticipation. I want it to be that you show up and I am in the sweet spot—that line where I am having you and wanting you both. I cannot tell you how many guys “got lost on my way” coming over to have sex.

A context needs to be set because this is neither a bootie call nor a marriage ceremony. Alan Watts once said that life is far too serious to be taken seriously. This is as well. Again we are looking for a sweet spot where, on the one hand, we acknowledge that we are exploring together in the most charged, intense, potential that exists on the planet; and on the other, in the same way Suzuki Roshi says that enlightenment is just sitting—this is just sex. The experience begins when we agree to meet, and from that moment everything from wondering what I should wear for you to feeling a throb in my pussy when I imagine you being here, is part of it. I include everything, which makes it that much richer. It is like going to the symphony and being attuned to every note. Somehow doing this creates an experience of losing oneself. That is the ultimate experience that I am looking for with you—for each of us to lose ourselves and discover what is there when we do. =

For this reason I like it when you text or email me your thoughts, desires and hopes and fantasies about what is to come as they arise. It’s a way I get to be inside of you. In the private place. Sometimes it is like I get a whiff of you beforehand, or I will think about the night and feel my pussy swell. I want to tell you. I want to know anything and everything you want to share with me. All of it. I want to know your guts and your soul. I am an infinite player, and as such everything is of consequence. I want to know all of your wiring so that I can flick as many switches as possible. I am willing to share anything and everything with you.

Please show up sans scent. I am an animal. I need to smell you. I don’t want you to mask your fear, your desire, your lust. There is no scent to me that is better than your scent—you are in my bed because you are you and I want to know exactly what that is. This is not to say that I am in any way averse to you showering. I’m not. I like Dove, Ivory and Dr. Bronners soap on a man. And I am good with deodorant although I will not get to stick my face in your underarm pit: a favorite of mine.

I am good at guiding us so if you are nervous or tentative let me lead. I will feel for the transition points and guide with nods. If necessary I will direct you. If you feel comfortable, confident and at ease you are welcome to lead. I was born to surrender—I lead only to make it more comfortable for you but I have no particular desire to do so. I would love to be a woman in your arms. And I am happy to be a woman with you in mine.

That being said, you will determine the intensity and dimension of the experience. I once had a teacher say that the heartbreaking thing is that so much is available and people want so little. I have a similar experience. I am happy to “just fuck” or suck your cock. But you should know that there is an infinite world available. Fucking is great but flying is really what it is about. And how you fly is you open to every potential imaginable. We could fall—into climax, into an abyss, the unknown, in love. We may glimpse eternity. I have no idea what our particular configuration will animate when connected. The only thing that I know is that to the extent that we are open to every possibility—irrespective of who we are in a dimension outside this one (the everyday world with its list of preferences) the more complexity and momentum we can get—hence the more beauty we can access.

FYI, I am not freaky-kinky. If we happen to fall into a scene where it is resonant for you to be some kind of bad spanking daddy—so be it. If it is an experience that actually increases sensation and connection I am down. But my experience is that most people crank up the activity in place of the missing sensation. Were we to lie face to face lips touching barely for 9 hours and the sensation were explosive, I would be just as happy. In other words I am interested in what wants to happen, not in making something happen, not in following an agenda for hot or an instruction manual for sexy. My pussy is turned on already so I can guarantee the turn on. And the more natural and organic it is the more turned on my pussy gets. So there are a few things that every guy wants—the infamous threesome, the banging that pussy from behind and ride’er hard, the fucking her throat with your cock. I can tell you that I have no predisposition towards these—not because I am opposed but because they tend to be clunky and uncomfortable for the most part. They are far too complex to do well in most cases. But should it be that it feels right. Okay.

I know, I know—its okay to confuse this with a bootie call. Perhaps think of it more like church, because if it’s up to me you will see god. Reverence is the appropriate response. You can afford to be nice—a nice you’ve never been. You can afford to be gracious. You can afford to let me in and see how good it feels, that maybe you’ve never felt like this before. I will know it all anyway, I am down in your basement, remember? The more you express it though, the deeper we can go, the less separated behind the glass wall we remain. I am willing to love you wholly and completely. I am not afraid of losing myself in you. First of all because I know my way back. But secondly because if you are so good that I get lost, then that is a place I am happy to be lost inside of. Consider doing the same.

If the sensation decreases we can slow down and talk or lie there together. I look at our relationship as an ongoing experience. I like to end on the peak so that we are left still tasting a certain hunger for each other. There is always more available so there is no need to stuff ourselves.

That said—up front and honest—how I work is that if you can have me, then you can have me. I do what I do, I do see more than one man. I know that it can get confusing as to how to be with me. I know that part of the turn on of sex is possession. In fact without it, there is no grit. So this pussy is yours so long as you command my attention. And should it be that you have the capacity to hold my attention until the end of time, I am perfectly happy with that. You do not ,however, need to demand anything of me, or try to guilt me into doing anything, or attempt to make me feel like a bad person in order to get me to love you. That one only works with a woman who isn’t full, who is desperate for love and attention. I come to you as a gift, as an offering. The way you get more is you appreciate what you get. Oh, and this one seems beyond most people—you simply ask. My predisposition is to say yes—no need to angle or cajole. If you want something, make a request and know that my desire is to say yes, and if I can I will. If I can’t I won’t. I will be clear.

I’ve mentioned it before but the bed is our island. Say anything and everything you feel and desire. We will not be held accountable for what is said on the bed. If you ask me to marry you on the bed, I will not drag you to the jewelry store the next morning. I want it to be that all things involuntary can occur. Freely. Because underneath that top layer is the really good stuff but it is usually locked down by the “things we can’t say.” By the way, I’ll be saying it too. And then we will get out of bed, put on our clothes, kiss good night and be on with our lives. When we get back in that bed, we can pick up where we left off, like picking up a good book.

about-nicole-daedoneNicole Daedone is a sought-after speaker, teacher, and author who has spent her groundbreaking career redefining orgasm from a woman’s point of view. Starting with her fundamental belief that a woman’s sex is her power, she treats supposedly taboo subjects with unparalleled humor, intelligence, and insight.

Nicole is the author of Slow Sex: The Art and Craft of the Female Orgasm (Grand Central/Hachette, May 2011) and is the founder of OneTaste, a company that offers training in orgasm, communication, and man-woman relationships through online media and in-person coaching and courses. The practice at the heart of her work is called OM or Orgasmic Meditation. OM uniquely combines the tradition of extended orgasm with Nicole’s own interest in Zen Buddhism, mystical Judaism and semantics. Helping to foster a new conversation about orgasm—one that’s relevant and real—she has inspired thousands of students to make OM a part of their everyday lives.

Her work has been featured in the New York Times, the New York Post, the San Francisco Chronicle, and 7×7 Magazine, among others, and her writing has appeared in Tricycle magazine. She is also a featured speaker at the 2011 TEDxSF conference.

For more about OneTaste and OM, visit www.onetaste.us. Nicole’s blog appears at www.nicoledaedone.com.

Take Charge Of Your Own Orgasm

By Lady Cheeky

In this fast food culture, women’s sexual release is often relegated to the back of the bus.  Nowhere is this more evident than in the female orgasm and how it’s attained.

As a woman who went on a sexual discovery journey I learned a few things on the way about orgasms in general and orgasms for women specifically. For instance, an orgasm should be thought of  not as the climax of a specific act, but should include the act itself. Candice Holdorf, columnist for The Orgasmic Life and elephant journal has a definition of orgasm that really resonated with me. Candice explains:

“… orgasm is pulsing breath of life that births every moment. Orgasm is the chilly tickle on the edge of my skin as my lover draws his tongue from the edge of my ear to the tip of my nipple. It’s the warm flush in my face and genitals when I reveal a taboo desire.  It is the fire of my hunger and the blazing force that opens me to pleasure.”

This definition of orgasm refers to all-encompassing act where a woman …

To continue, click here >> Take Charge Of Your Own Orgasm.

*graphic courtesy of OneTaste

The “Hands Off” Policy

By Sandra Bunino

Rolling and kneading a stress ball in his hand, Nick LaCroix sat in his plush leather chair thinking about the hot sensuous body on the other side of his heavy cherry wood door. He felt like a prisoner because every time he ventured out of his corner office the sultry eyes and pouty lips of Lacey Phillips smacked him in the face. Her casual glances not only took his breath away, electricity of those looks reverberated straight to his cock.

Nick’s mind raced in a million different directions, all leading to thoughts of high firm breasts beneath her silky blouse. Fuck! He threw the stress ball toward the door out of frustration, when his executive assistant, Alex, opened the door and ducked to dodge the flying object.

“Problems, Nick?”

“No, not necessarily, just trying to figure out a solution, a loophole so to speak.”  “Okay boss, I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving for the day. I can’t lock up because the marketing consultant, Lacey, is working late tonight. She asked me to let you know so you wouldn’t be startled when you came out of your office.”

A grin spread across Nick’s lips. He wasn’t imagining it after all. The glances, the stares, and the lace panties peeking out of her low slacks were intentionally meant to get his attention. Nick caught his reflection in his computer screen and realized he looked a little too happy. He quickly checked his grin, thanked Alex and wished him a good night.

Nick watched the setting sun through his bank of floor to ceiling windows from the twentieth floor. As CEO of Red Roses Productions he was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. Work had taken over his daily existence and he was due a distraction. His growing erection served as a beacon of his need and a reminder every time he passed Lacey’s desk. A jolt ran through his body as soon as he first saw her waiting in the lobby for her interview as few weeks ago. She was contracted as a marketing consultant and even though she wasn’t a Red Rose employee, as CEO of the company, Nick had to be careful. Sexual harassment accusations wouldn’t be good for business. His fist slammed down on his heavy cherry wood desk, the force knocked his stapler onto the floor. Yes! Looking around his desk he realized he had the perfect solution to his dilemma. Oh yes, he had an itch that was about to be scratched. Nick picked up the phone and dialed Lacey’s extension.

* * * * * * * *

Lacey had her eye on Nick’s ass since she first saw him the day of her interview at Red Roses Productions. She needed the work and was thrilled when the hiring manager called her with the offer. Her mind quickly shifted to the hottie with chiseled features and deep blue eyes that walked by her while she waited for her interview. She’d hoped to bump into him again. She soon realized the object of her lustful desire was Nick LaCroix, CEO of Red Roses. Lacey resigned herself to give up her plans of pursuit until she noticed Nick staring in her direction with an unmistakable hunger in his eyes. He had the same thing in mind, she was sure of it. After weeks of glances and purposeful walks in her direction, Lacey took matter into her own hands and set up a ‘working late’ scenario.

Lacey smiled when her extension rang. She didn’t need to look at the caller display to know it was Nick.

“Yes, Mr. LaCroix?”

“Lacey, would you please come to my office? I have an issue with a company policy that requires your expertise.”

“Of course. I’ll be right there.”

Lacey knocked softly, swung open the door and closed it behind her with a soft click. Her eyes locked on his as she strode to his expansive desk where he was seated. She leaned over the desk and placed both palms on the cool surface knowing she’d given him a perfect view of her hot pink lace bra peeking out of her creamy blouse.

“How can I be of service to you, Nick?”  Nick held his thick gold plated fountain pen between his middle and index finger.  “I’m in a bit of a predicament, Lacey, and need your opinion on how to proceed. You see here at Red Roses we have a ‘hands-off’ policy for our employees and it includes consultants and the CEO.”  “I see,” Lacey said as she walked around the massive desk until she was next to his leather chair. “Nice pen.” She took the pen from Nick’s hand and rolled it around her fingertips. “That is certainly a predicament but not an insurmountable one.” Lacey put the gold tip of the pen’s cap to her mouth, moistened it with her tongue and ran the sparkling cap along her lower lip. Nick’s eyes never left the gold pen.

His gaze followed the direction of the pen as Lacey leisurely traced it down to her neck to her cleavage. The cap, still moist from her tongue left a glistening trail down her chest to the first of four pearl buttons on her blouse. Lacey deftly unbuttoned two of the pearls unveiling a splash of hot pink lace that was playing peek-a-boo with him just moments ago. She swiveled Nick’s chair and placed her hands on either armrest.   “Just so I’m clear about the policy, does it apply to lips?” Nick smiled. “The policy is strictly a ‘hands-off’ restriction, there’s no mention of lips.” Lacey leaned in closer and was met full force by Nick’s hungry mouth. She whimpered as his tongue parted her lips and sought its mate. Still holding onto the armrests, Lacy rested one knee between his legs and pushed his head back as she took control of the powerful kiss. Heat instantly filled her as a current of electricity traveled straight down to flood her belly. Her knee slid to his groin until it stopped at his rock hard erection straining through his pants. Lacey broke their kiss and looked down at his neglected bulge and brought her eyes back to Nick. “That looks uncomfortable. Since I can’t do the honors why don’t you loosen your pants?” A low groan escaped Nick’s lips as he hastily unhooked his belt and pants. Lacey saw a hint of silk boxers as he unleashed his shaft standing at full attention. She licked her lips and shifted her eyes back to his.

 * * * * * * * *

Fuck! In the back of his mind he knew this was wrong, incredibly wrong. Rational thoughts were not in the forefront of his brain. He was just seconds from losing his throbbing cock to Lacey’s pouty lips. It was those lips that drew him to her like a moth to a flame. Those lips that he still felt on his that, oh God, were now at the tip of his cock. Yes, at that moment he was willing to risk it all. It would just take one person to come back to the office, open his door and it would be all over. The Board of Directors would throw him out so quick he would barely have enough time to zipper his fly. Nick and his dick would be the talk of the office for years to come. But at that very moment he didn’t even care where his next breath came from, all he focused on was Lacey’s warm, wet tongue on his shaft. This ‘hands off’ policy would be harder to abide by than he originally thought. He gripped the armrests of his leather chair as he watched her head rise up and down on his cock. What he wouldn’t do to run his fingers through her hair and pull it away from her face. He wanted to watch those full glistening lips take him completely into her mouth. The thought almost had him coming. Shit! No! He already broke one of his rules – don’t get involved with anyone at work. He refused to break the number one rule – don’t come first.“Lacey, on the desk,” he growled.  She stopped and looked up at him with the most beautiful eyes. “Did I do something wrong, Nick?” He wanted to gather her up into his arms and hold her tight. God, she was already under his skin. Shit!   “No, sweetheart.” He smiled. “But if you don’t stop I am going to come all over those amazing lips of yours. On the desk, please.”

Lacey rose from her position at his lap, but before she did as he requested, she unbuttoned the last two pearls on her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders. She sat down on his leather desk blotter in her gray skirt and hot pink bra. Leaning back, she placed her hands on the desk’s surface behind her and looked at him with a daring look in her eyes.  “Okay, Mr. Hands off Policy, what now?”

Nick had something up his sleeve. Actually, it was on his desk. He picked up his stapler and swung the top up so that the metal shaft that held the staples was exposed. He smiled a devilish grin and proceeded to staple Lacey’s skirt to his desk blotter. “Now slide toward me.”  She followed his instructions and slowly inched toward him while he stood between her legs. He was pleasantly surprised that she wore thigh high stockings. His eyes traveled from the top of her stockings to her the toned taut thighs to her panties that matched her hot pink bra. “Pen, please,” he said holding out his hand while still eyeing her pink panties. “What? Um, Nick, what are you going to do with the pen?”  He chuckled. “Nothing to worry about, you’ll see.”  She gave him a suspicious look but handed him the pen. He teased her by placing the cool gold cap on her knee and running it lightly up her inner thigh stopping at her panties. Fuck! His mind was racing. His hand was so close to her pussy that he swore he felt her heat. It took every ounce of control not to slip his fingers inside her panties and touch her slick sex. Instead he clipped her panties into the pen clip. Once her panties were secured around the pen he pulled them down her legs.

Lacey kicked off her shoes and placed one stockinged foot on his shoulder, the other on the chair behind him. Nick hastily grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket, pulled out a square metallic wrapped condom and threw the wallet on his desk. Ripping open the condom with his teeth, he rolled it onto his aching shaft while his eyes never left Lacey’s sultry stare. The act of fucking with their eyes was more than he could take and he ached with the anticipation of plunging into her sweet core. She inched closer to the desk’s edge meeting the tip of his cock.  Nick couldn’t wait any longer; hungrily he thrust into her glistening folds. He groaned deeply willing himself not to touch her even though the need coursed through his fingertips. Stroke after stroke her warmth surrounded him, he groaned as his mouth crushed against hers.

“Sweetheart, I need to touch you.”

“You know we can’t do that, I need my job.” Lacey said breathlessly.

“Fuck it, Lacey. I’ll get you another job. Please.” He stopped but remained inside of her and searched her eyes.

* * * * * * * *

Lacey felt it. God, yes, she knew this was more than a lustful fuck with the boss. The heat that seared through her body was derived from an emotional connection as well as a physical one. But should she risk her job? Should she trust him to find her another? She stared back into his pleading eyes.

She wanted to touch his strong arms and shoulders. She wanted to feel his hair between her fingers as she moaned into his ear. She nodded her head. “Yes, okay.” Lacey braced herself for the hunger she knew laid within him but instead of a mad rush of groping, Nick’s hands rose to her face. She gasped as he gently cupped her face with his palms and kissed her gently. Lacey wrapped her arms around his neck and raked her fingers through his hair. Christ, he felt good. In one swoop Nick lifted her up, popping the staples from his desk blotter. Lacey shimmied out of her skirt and pushed Nick into his leather chair.

She straddled him and guided his thickness into her channel. Nick huskily called her name as she rode him feeling his length slide in and out against her inner walls.  He unhooked her bra and took one breast into his mouth as he rolled her other nipple between his finger and thumb.  Lacey moaned while grinding her sensitive clit against his body with each stroke.  His hands slid down her back to her ass lifting her cheeks up and down to accentuate the rhythm she set.  Lacey showered his neck with kisses and moaned softly in his ear as she climbed closer to the release she craved. She was on the edge when Nick pressed one finger in between her ass cheeks and applied pressure to her opening.

“Lacey, baby, come for me.”

She couldn’t last any longer and his whispered request put her over the top. Her climax came in strong waves as her inner walls clamped onto his pulsing cock. Her scream intermingled with his growl as they came together on his office chair.

 ~~~~~~~~

The next morning Lacey walked toward her desk and glanced over to Nick’s closed office door. There was already a cardboard box waiting at her desk. She called the marketing manager earlier that morning to explain that she received an offer for a full time position that started immediately. She pulled out her desk drawer to collect her personal items when she noticed one long stem rose and a small envelope. Ripping open the envelope she read the handwritten note.

 Lacey,

 Last night was incredible, however, I’m sorry that it resulted in your resignation. As promised, here’s a schedule of five interviews I have secured for you over the next week. You will find they are all excellent jobs that will allow you to further your career. You will have your pick of them. Selfishly, they are within walking distance from this office.

 I hope you will agree to continue to see me starting with dinner tonight.

Nick

Lacey smiled just as she noticed a presence in back of her. A hand reached out containing the gold fountain pen.

“Please don’t forget this, Lacey.” Nick said handing her the pen. Then he whispered, “I think we’re going to need it again.”                                                                                                                                                                                     © 2012 Sandra Bunino

Sandra Bunino began a love of romance stories while penning a creative writing assignment in high school. The story ended with the heroine receiving a long stemmed red rose in her locker on Valentine’s Day. Since then, all of her stories feature the hero presenting the heroine with roses. Sandra is constantly searching for different ways to achieve a heart-pumping, stomach-flipping, breath-catching reaction from her readers.

Her books include Marooned in Miami, Lusted in Las Vegas, Sara’s Smile, and The Satin Rose Experience series Mia’s Submission and Brooke’s Wish.

Please check her out on these various pages: Website Facebook / Goodreads / Amazon Author Page / Twitter: @sandrabunino

Lady Cheeky’s Favorite Books On Sex

        Amazon.com: Lady Cheeky: Lady Cheeky’s Book Suggestions

In case you were looking for some scintillating or informative reading on SEX … I put together a list of my favorites. I could only do this as a “wish list” on AMAZON, but don’t worry , I’m not asking you to buy me books!  Just thought I’d provide a list of books I like to those that are interested.  xo LC

EXCLUSIVE HOT EXCERPT! The Cowboy Singer by Paula Tiberius

by Paula Tiberius

The kiss escalated quickly and he found himself exploring the inside of that robe. She was wearing this silky, frilly purple piece of heaven. How hadn’t he noticed it poking out from the plush terry cloth? He ran his hands over her thighs and felt her body tense and heard her breathing grow rapid against his ear. He knew they were headed for another night of bliss.

April was the best lover James had ever experienced. And it had nothing to do with technique or body parts. They just felt so right together. She made him crazy with soft kisses on his neck, his chest, his belly. By the time she reached his thighs he was already out of his mind and she sat up to look at him, a giggle escaping her lips. He loved the way she made him feel, so connected to her. Without letting her eyes leave his, she climbed on top of him and gently lowered herself down. Pure silken ecstasy enveloped him. He wondered where all this new energy had come from since she was supposed to be completely exhausted, but he wasn’t complaining.

He reached up and stroked her breasts and rib cage underneath the silky material. She gently thrust her hips back and forth, driving him closer and closer to the brink. He grabbed her buttocks and held them still for a moment. She seemed surprised.

“Slow down, Cowgirl. I’m in no rush.”

A lingering, sexy smile broke out on her face as she pulled her negligee off completely. What a body. She leaned over and let her breasts graze his chest. He slid his hands into her hair and pulled her face to his for a long, tender kiss. Their tongues danced together to the rhythm of their bodies and again he felt like he might lose control too soon. He wanted to bring her over the edge first. He gently thrust his hips higher and higher and finally felt her body tense. Pretty soon she was unable to keep kissing his mouth and just gripped his hair with both fists, her breath ragged. She started calling out his name. This was his absolute favorite part.

“James! James! It’s so intense!” Heh heh. As far as he was concerned, his own pleasure was nothing compared to the satisfaction of pleasing April.

If you love romance novels, fire up your Kindle or your Kindle app for iPad and order a fresh new digital copy of The Cowboy Singer  for just $2.99! And if you’re a prime member, you can download it free for the next 3 months!

Story:

April Connors figured her love life was on hold indefinitely now that she was about to have a baby while temporarily staying at her grandmother’s house (what a turn-on!). Meeting infamous country singer Jimmy Wick may have made her giant belly flip, but she was filing him under a big “as if.” No man in his right mind would fall for a gal this pregnant, and besides, she needed to focus on herself and the baby. James Warwick (a.k.a. Jimmy Wick) was not in his right mind. His ex-wife was petitioning for full custody of the only thing that made him happy besides playing music, his four-year-old princess, Summer, and the thought of losing her had him crazier than an outhouse rat. His saving grace was his new ‘friend’ April who he was falling head over heels for. The only problem was, April had just been knocked up, dumped and stranded by the last guy she was with and was in no mood to go down that road again. She was hellbent on getting her life back on track just as James was watching his fall apart, leaving them both caught off guard by the unstoppable romance that would sweep them off their feet.