Super Sexy F/F Excerpt from BELLA KEY by Scarlet Chastain!

bella-key1mMaddie sunk into the deep feathertop of the full sized guest bed. The rhythmic push and pull of the surf lulled her into a state between sleep and wakefulness. Slipping into an exquisite dream, she lay on a beach blanket, the sun beating down on her back as she grabbed a fistful of sand and let it slip from her fingers. Warm liquid drizzled along her shoulder blades and down her spine. Her muscles relaxed under strong but soft and delicate hands massaging the oily substance evenly over the planes of her back. Her nerve endings stood on end as she gathered her hair into one hand. The pads of fingertips circled the base of her exposed neck, before traveling over her shoulders. Maddie sighed as the same talented hands continued down her spine, applying pressure to her lower back and pushing her pelvis into the warm sand. Heat surrounded her mound while her bikini bottoms slid down inch by inch until the sun kissed the bare skin of her ass cheeks. She tried to pick her head up to discover the owner of such wonderful hands but her heavy head and eyelids wouldn’t cooperate. She gave up without a fight and settled in to enjoy the erotic massage. More oil drizzled over her newly exposed skin and her bottoms were swiftly whisked down her legs. Warm skin nudged her thighs apart while administering circular patterns over her ass. The hands were familiar but not large and calloused as those of most men she’d been with. They were delicate with smooth fingernails, which raked over her sensitized flesh. She moaned louder when those fingers slid down her ass to her desire-swollen nether lips.

“Please…yes…”

The words weren’t from her lips. Maddie held her breath. More muffled moans combined with the crashing surf put her body on alert. But she also recognized another sound – a softly grinding motor. Maddie sat up and perked her ears. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest as she realized Sunny’s breathy moans filled her ears.

“Mmm…yes…”

Maddie slid out of her bed and crept to the partially ajar door. The floorboards creaked and she froze. Sunny’s moans stopped for a moment before resuming with a flurry of audible breaths. Maddie’s curiosity got the best of her and she slinked into the hall, the call of Sunny’s passion beckoning her like a moth to a flame. The hallway was dark but a sliver of moonlight shining through Sunny’s door offered enough light for Maddie to view Sunny on her knees. One hand gripped a post of the headboard, the other held a pink device at the apex of her thighs. Maddie retreated a step as Sunny threw her head back. But she couldn’t return to her room. She couldn’t look away from Sunny’s raven hair caressing the crease where her hips met her smooth waist. Maddie yearned to trace her fingers along the woman’s curves. She leaned against the wall outside of the woman’s room and slid into a crouch. Cupping her panty-covered mound in her palm, she rubbed circles around her outer lips over the fabric in unison to Sunny’s moans. The purr of Sunny’s vibrator changed from a steady hum to quick short revs. Maddie bit her lower lip so as to not allow an audible moan to escape her lips, as she slid her hand inside her panties. She closed her eyes and imagined that Sunny’s moans and cries were coaxed by Maddie’s own touch instead of a powerful vibrator. Spreading her legs further apart, Maddie’s fingers mimicked the rhythm of Sunny’s device. Sunny’s grip on the headboard tightened and she called out Maddie’s name. For a fleeting moment, Maddie considered making her presence known. But instead she stayed in the shadows and her own climax soon followed. Shocked at what she witnessed and the arousing effects it had on her, she slowly crept to her room. It wasn’t her first experience getting aroused by another woman but it was the first time she was close to acting on her desire.

copyright © 2013 Scarlet Chastain

For more steamy, erotic encounters between Sunny and Maddie, check out Scarlet Chastain’s new book “Bella Key” available on www.ScarletChastain.com / Evernight Publishing / Amazon US / Amazon UK / AllRomance eBooks / BookStrand

DESCRIPTION:

Maddie Jacobs must be crazy. At least that’s what her mother thinks. Professionally, she’s confident and secure; personally, she’s a hot mess. Not even a marriage proposal from a man who adores her can quell her search for something more.

In need of an escape, Maddie flees to Key West’s most southern island, Bella Key, to rest and recharge at Casa Bonita. She almost gives up on weekend retreat when the Bed & Breakfast is closed for repairs until Sunny Rojas, the inn owner, extends an offer of friendship, sweet tea and a room. Still reeling from a breakup with her longtime partner, Sunny is thankful for the diversion from her own broken heart.

The arrival of a fierce storm forces the women’s emotional journey to a head and leads them into each other’s arms. But can Maddie throw her hangups to the wind and go with her heart? The magic of Bella Key teaches her that passion cannot be placed neatly into boxes labeled right and wrong, because love knows no boundaries.

AUTHOR BIO:

Scarlet Chastain is the semi-secret pseudonym of a multi-published, best selling author of sensual erotic romance. Scarlet’s focus is female-centric sizzling stories written about women, for women.

She lives in the suburban shadows of New York City but her heart belongs to the beaches of Key West. Scarlet can usually be found in her favorite chair of her newly acquired writing cave with her maltipoo, Coco.

Stalk Scarlet here:

Website: http://scarletchastain.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Scarlet-Chastain/524838890901873

Twitter: @scarletchastain

Email: scarletchastain@gmail.com

 

 

“LADY CHEEKY’S SEX SATORI” from THE RUMPUS

 

Photo by Gene Reed

Photo by Gene Reed

BY   4/5/13

Orginally appeared on TheRumpus.net  

Tweet sex sites are a many splendored thing, opening doors to fluid identities that are both sexy and risk-free while erecting an emotional firewall to avoid real, personal rejection. My hackles go up whenever I think about technology replacing human touch, but when I met Lady Cheeky and heard her story of seeking and finding passion via tweet sex, I witnessed a brave new world where one woman’s sexuality was accessed in an accelerated way that involved wooing, teasing, and palpable passion.

“Lady Cheeky” is her Anglophile cybersex identity name, where she is a servant/vessel/wench. We met on the floor at Marilyn Friedman’s essay writing workshop, which I signed up for during a dark time. After dozens of agent rejections flooded my inbox for over a year, I longed to sit in a room with other writers again, hoping to inject my writing with joy by learning new literary tricks from veteran journalist, Taffy Brodesser-Akner. Our assignment was to tell the group what our essay was about and then say one more line declaring what our essay was “really” about.

Lady Cheeky’s wavy, Lucille Ball hair matched her bright red lips. Her curves punched out of her ’40s frock, as she told a hilarious topsy-turvy tale about role-playing on a True Blood-themed, Twitter-based direct message and tweet stream, which led her to start her smart and sexy websites where she met “Lord Byron,” hired a P.I. to check another lover out, and divorced her husband. She also overcame a rare sexual disorder; started a popular sensual images blog; began writing and publishing real-life erotica based on her new, passion-filled experiences; is in the process of working on a memoir; has a new story in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s upcoming erotica anthology, The Big Book of Orgasm; and is currently speaking about body image and sensuality, as well as integrative sensuality.

Lady Cheeky’s story beneath the story was flesh and bone ache deriving from a phantom limb that was pummeled awake by HBO’s True Blood series. I wanted to know more about how True Blood was the springboard to becoming a sexually actualized woman, capable and deserving of passion.

… To read the rest of the interview, CLICK HERE:logo-sm

*** EXCLUSIVE *** Sexy Excerpt From “In The Office” by Alyssa Halford

In_the_Office_Cover “Can you hold my sweater for me?” she whispers. “It’s a bit warm in here.”

I hadn’t noticed the sweater. She arranges it on my lap. Then the penny drops.

“There,” she says. “Comfortable?”

“Very,” I whisper back. Am I reading this right? There is no other way. I can feel my heart start to pound as I see her slim hand slide under the covering.

“Allow me,” she whispers. She finds my zipper and tugs. I look around quickly to see if anyone has heard but all eyes and ears are focussed on the front.  Some bullshit presentation about avoiding your “triggers”. Too late for me. I help her as discreetly as I can, pulling up on the fly so she can unzip me. Jeans open, warm hand and long fingers reach into my boxer briefs and expertly circle my cock. She moves a bit to adjust her arm’s angle then squeezes. Squeezes oh-so-gently, and then waits. I don’t take my eyes from the screen.

And it begins, the tortuous grasp, her beautiful hand on my shaft stroking up and down slowly, achingly. Up to the head to rub and press just the right spot, then a quick subtle twist and back down. Her hand is lotioned with something floral and tantalizing. Not overpowering, just right. My cock is standing full at attention now and aching to be free of my jeans. There is no way we can do that, I realize. I glance quickly out the corner of my eye and see a soft smile on her beautiful face. She turns slightly to wink quickly before looking back to the screen. A dimple. A dimple in her beautiful face tells me she’s enjoying this. She crosses her legs and closes her eyes a moment. Oh yes, she’s enjoying this too. God I can’t wait to fuck her.

Her hand works faster, bringing me close to my breaking point. Up, down, twist, pressure under the tip of the head. She can’t reach inside my pants more so I can only imagine what it would be like to have her hand have free rein over my cock and balls. Pulling, squeezing, agonizing fluid motions, no hesitation as she works my dick and balls til I come all over her tits. Or ass. Anywhere.

alyssa_halford-CUBEAbout the Author: Alyssa Halford

A male-focused author.  Women may enjoy too, of course; but it seems men prefer.

I write erotica and romance, including light BDSM, public sex, and casual encounters. I do not write hardcore BDSM or torture. I err on the side of Eros, not Thanatos.

I’m a big fan of HEA and HFN, whenever I do write romance.

In my spare time I suffer greatly as an actuary, but manage to find time to take long hot bubble baths with my sexy, nubile girlfriends. We giggle, kiss, paddle each other’s bums and then I write about it.

I like koalas.

Facebook:    https://www.facebook.com/pages/Alyssa-Halford-Author

Twitter:      @AlyssaHalford

Site:    http://www.alyssahalford.com

Buy Links: http://www.alyssahalford.com/shoppe.html

Not Opposed or Entirely Different

tumblr_mbs1lrASQV1qdartlo1_500by Lady Cheeky

Just because I am open does not mean I let everyone in

Just because I let you in doesn’t mean I do it for everyone

Just because you get a second chance doesn’t mean you’ll get a third

Just because I have some hard edges doesn’t mean I’m not soft
Just because I flirt with you does not mean we will fuck

Just because I enjoy sex does not mean I want to have it now

Just because I express my sexual self does not mean that I am taking numbers

Just because I believe every woman should enjoy her body does not mean it’s an invitation for you to

Just because I want to be wooed does not mean I am high-maintenance

Just because I sleep with you does not mean I will accept less than I should

Just because I want you to fuck me does not mean you can’t be a gentleman

Just because I take charge does not mean I don’t want you to

Just because I want to be treated as a whole person does not mean I don’t like you

Just because I want to be acknowledged for my other charms does not mean I don’t want you inside me

Just because I accept you between my legs does not mean I am “easy”

Just because I’m attracted to you does not mean you can be lazy

Just because I am a feminist does not mean I don’t appreciate chivalry

Just because I talk dirty does not mean I don’t like tenderness

Just because I call you does not mean you can come over

Just because I am pretty does not mean I don’t want to hear it from you

Just because I am confident does not mean I don’t worry you won’t like me naked

Just because I am smart does not mean I won’t say stupid things

Just because I am horny does not mean I don’t want to be held

Just because I speak freely doesn’t mean I give it freely

Just because I am a woman does not mean I don’t want it like a man
Just because I want you does not mean you don’t have to try

Just because I mean this now does not mean I won’t mean it later

Just because I stand up for myself does not mean it’s not scary

Just because I like you does not mean I’ll settle

Just because …

 

 

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

tumblr_m6ijz9zb3H1r3s0uho1_500

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.