Dirty Excerpt: Collared in the Temple of Dendur

The Temple of Dendur Exhibit: Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City

I wrote this story for a writer friend, Shea Mara (shea_blue on Literotica) who writes light BDSM- heavy on the D/s, light on the B/D and the S/M. Her BDSM stories often feature sex in a hotel lobby or a Starbucks bathroom. Shea's avatar on Literotica is a blue scarab.

When I was in high school, an Egyptian man who worked with my mother gave her a scarab carved from some kind of blue stone. He said it was for luck. We had no idea if it was luck or a curse, and the Internet was ten years away at that point. When I started writing the story, I thought about that blue scarab, which led me to setting the story of public sex in the Temple of Dendur exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. I'd been there with a group of foreign language teachers in 2002, and combined with what I could look at online, I think it worked.

Here's a dirty excerpt: 

The couple in the temple with us spoke a language I didn't recognize, and I felt as though they stood right behind us, waiting their turn to see what was etched on the wall where we stood. They must have assumed that they'd find some important treasure there if this professor was giving private lessons to his conscientious student, who was writing each word with loving care. I gave a quiet sigh of relief when I realized that they probably didn't understand what Ammon said. I saw them leave out of the corner of my eye.

He slipped his fingers between my lips, into my cunt. "Dripping wet, love. You want this, don't you?" I nodded silently, and he moved his fingers to my clit. I fought to stay still, to wait for his attention to the erect nub. My pussy burned with the need to come, but I wouldn't until he said it was time. That was our agreement. My hips wanted to move, but I stood as still as the replica of the Sphinx next to the temple, waiting for his instruction.

Instead, he moved his finger back to my opening, and pushed two fingers inside me, his fingertips brushing my G-spot. I craved movement, but I remained in place, screaming silently in my head, "Oh my god, just rub my fucking clit." After six months of his training, I knew. The anticipation made the orgasm hotter and sweeter. It would be worth the wait.

He pulled his fingers out of me and placed them against my mouth. "Taste yourself, love," he said, not bothering to whisper. We were alone in the temple for a moment. I parted my lips and sucked his fingers into my mouth. He spread his fingers so that one went to each side of my mouth, and I could taste the salty flavor of my own cunt spreading across my tongue. I licked them clean, sucking on them, trying to drive him to fuck me.

"Take your folio in your left hand. Leave it open. Take your right hand and put it between your legs," he said, still in a tone loud enough for other visitors to hear. "Good girl. Don't move your fingers yet." I was worried about my skirt being lifted in the front, but his large frame hid my body from the tourists that popped their heads around the corner to see what was in the temple. The museum would be closing in forty-five minutes. They didn't have time to linger in the ancient structure.

I was overcome with lust. I needed to come, and I couldn't stand still much longer. My nipples were so hard they ached, and my clit throbbed against my fingers, harder and harder, the swollen nub ready to explode. My arm was tiring from holding the folio up for so long. He finally took it from my hand and held it, making sure it hid the raised front of my skirt.

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Photo Attribution:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/pahudson/3235654014/in/photolist-5VVzdb-5Pz12K-5VRdEc-5VRe5H-qMtW2D-2K6PLh-fb3Ses-4j5srq-bwRmFc-39SfmY-4j5s37-bwRo8z-5VVzxE-bwRnma-M4fJ1-deWMBN-deWPpY-aFngc9-aFng7N-9tCeb3-tRVs-os1CEN-tRVC-ocytVR-qcJGwi-qcBN4U-Ebhnva-5VRdyH-6vgfmt-qEcNuJ-bjvx7S-eDNUTc-aHFChr-bh3qe2-6SG5tL-nvaMmD-nJsQws-bjvxws-s2FcXq-DmCYqX-f86C4e-hrF6Q4-5xs3gS-9cEdvG-3KJe5A-5VRdVM-8yL9nC-6SG5dQ-s2N3Jv-ML5vB

Why Sell the Cow?

Why sell the cow when you can give away the milk for free?

I wrote my first story in the summer of 2011 and shared it with the world on Literotica.  What a rush it was, getting the first feedback on my stories. My first attempts were journal entries with splashes of outrageous fiction. I wish I could remember how my brain made the jump to writing fiction. Unlike other authors I know, writing fiction was out of my reach. Something other, more creative people did. And then all of a sudden, I was writing Hurricane Season. I have no idea where the idea came from, but it did pretty well on Lit, hovering right around the magic 4.5 point. I thought that was my one story. My one hit wonder.

And then I got another idea. And another. And another. And another. It was awesome! I was a fiction writer. In the winter of 2012, life got hectic, and I pushed the smut aside for a year and a half.

I kept thinking about it though. I kept having other ideas, and I would start stories in my notebook when I had a minute. The stories didn't go away, like I thought they would.

In the summer of 2013, I quit my part time job that consumed more of my life than my full time job, and suddenly, I felt this creative void that ate at me. I picked up my notebook and looked through my story pieces, and then I wrote Skater's Waltz for the Literotica Nude Day Contest. Ice skating in the nude. The idea tickled me to no end. I intended it to be a dirty, little romp for a figure skater and a hockey player, but it morphed into a love story before my eyes. I never thought I'd write a romance, but dammit, I did. (Don't get me wrong. It's dirty.)

My brain took off after Skater's Waltz, and I started posting in the Author's Hangout forum at Lit. A lot of authors were talking about going commercial and selling their ebooks, but I just plugged along, participating in contests and posting my stories.

Why sell the cow when you can give away the milk for free?

That was my philosophy of sharing smut until very recently. I didn't think my stories were good enough for people to spend money on, and I was worried that it wouldn't be worth losing the satisfaction of getting comments on Lit.

What changed my mind was an Amazon author by the name of Ron Mexico. This author copied and pasted one of my stories from Lit, threw a cover on it, and put it up for sale for $2.99. I was furious! Part of me thought I should feel flattered that someone thought that people would pay for it, but I was so pissed. I wasn't ready to take the commercial plunge, so why should somebody else make that decision for me. (Amazon removed the story, but Sr. Mexico has a ton of other stories copied from Lit.)

The incredible Freya Lange gave me the push to sell my stories when she proposed an anthology, Hot Summer Reads, to the members of our writing group. All of a sudden there was a flurry of talk and action about going commercial. Not all of the members jumped on the "sell your books" bandwagon right away, but it was the opportunity I'd been waiting for. I decided to sell the damn cow. I don't even like milk, after all. 

We worked together to make a plan. Freya Lange and TT Tales did a ton of research. JC Winchester already had some books for sale, and his input was valuable to all of us. Freya, TTT, JCW, shea mara, and I are the first wave from our group to sell the cow. MS Tarot and J Kendall Dane won't be far behind.

Our group will be successful. I'm sure of that. In a couple of days, summer will be here, and I'll have time to devote myself to writing smut and selling those cows. How much free milk can the world handle anyway?

What a Weekend!

Our anthology, Hot Summer Reads, came out this weekend. What a freaking rush. The chatter amongst my fellow authors was invigorating. The updates on how many downloads we got was inspiring. The tweeting was overwhelming. By the end, I was exhausted. And I can't wait to do it again.

By the end of the weekend, I reached my goal of having six ebooks on Amazon, one for each of the six categories on my website. I think it's a good start, and it will hold me for the next two weeks while my life is crazy.

Once things settle down, I'll figure out the right way to tweet and see how giving away a book for a couple of days works out.

One thing I've learned already is that my covers, for the most part, aren't working. I knew that naked bodies were the way to go, but for some of them, I couldn't do it. Eventually I'll get off my high horse and change them, but not right now. I'll do better in the future instead.

The other thing I've learned is that it isn't my best written stories that will sell. Again, I knew that would be true, but I'm pretty surprised to see that the story that is selling the best is the first one I ever wrote, Hurricane Season. I knew nothing about writing fiction, but I put a couple of perfect asses on the cover, and it's outselling all the others put together.

I'm pretty hopeful about this whole Amazon thing though. As long as I can nail down tweeting and make enough money to advertise on Facebook a bit, I may just make this work.

Romance Lives Forever: The Hot Summer Reads #anthology @freya_lange #RLFb...

Romance Lives Forever: The Hot Summer Reads #anthology @freya_lange #RLFb...: This quick interview includes info about the author, and introduces the story. About the Author Freya Lange is a writer in her early ...

Anthology Story

My group of writer friends is working on a collection of smutty stories. My story is a first time lesbian tale that takes place in a campground. A little light summer reading. I'd like to finish it this weekend. I hit the wall of suck yesterday, but I got past it today. Another 2k words, and I'll be done.