Carys Weldon Blog
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Warning, Will Robinson: Contains ADULT materialYesterday, I promised you an excerpt from a book I haven't finished--Mira Stark's story. I WILL get to that.
But first, I thought you might like to know how things go for me. I woke up before six a.m. because the guy (tweaker type) up the road fired up his rumbling car and cruised it up and down the road for 45 minutes. This is Saturday, remember?
I get up, get dressed, and find my teen son is ill in the bathroom. Nothing big, just queasy, but homesteadin' in there. Which means...I gotta hold my water. Then he decided to take a shower. Yeah. So, I woke up pissed, and felt more pissy by the minute.
Then, I had 1762 emails in my inbox this morning. Personal emails...I don't mind. I'll read those all day long and half into the night. But those damn spams, they wear my arm out just in clicking delete, delete, delete. Are you with me?
I have a ton of better things to do with my fingers and elbow than that. I mean, if I wanted to work out my forearm and hand--well, you can guess what I'd rather be doing. Let's play the family feud game on this...can you guess the top three answers? Sign up for my newsletter and send an email with the answers there. I'll do a random drawing on April Fool's Day. Winner gets a free download of one of my ebooks.
There are other contests running through my newsletter and at other spots on the web. Look for them.
And here's the excerpt from Mira Starks, she's created a fantasy man and has him mopping naked so she can watch the way his muscles ripple:
Mr. Beautiful mopped some more while she wondered what it felt like to have oral sex done right, by someone who wanted to do it for her. From what she'd heard, it was something to experience. She wasn't sure she believed it, though.
The guy--she decided to name him Grant--for grant me wishes--mopped for some time before she stopped conjecturing on whether or not the women who said they liked oral sex were all liars or not. She left the jury out on that one.
Grant got impatient. He asked, "You didn't bring me here so you could watch me mop all day, did you?" His voice was low, and deep. "Because I can do a lot more for you."
"Maybe."
Mira wasn't used to thinking sexual satisfaction, so how could she command the guy? She felt him watching her. It didn't feel like eye-rape, but there was...what? Desire? He flexed his fingers around the mop, and his biceps bulged, and he waited for her to say something like "Drop the mop."
It took her a minute to get the nerve to look Grant in the face. But when she did, a slow grin spread over his features. The eye contact had her melting at the promise in his expression.
He prompted her, "Go ahead, Mira. Say it."
"You know what I want more than I do," she said. "So why don’t you just do it?"
Again, she imagined herself on the lounger. His strong fingers slid up the mop handle and over her ankle. Then, they followed her leg up to her body. In her fantasy, her legs were bare, and unlike reality, shaved really nice. And she had a bikini wax and pubic trim. She winced over that thought. Why did real life always try to intrude on fantasy, dammit?
The moves Grant made were sensuous and torturously slow, as if he were considering how to go about it, and giving her plenty of time to get her head into the fantasy. He never stopped gazing at her, and somehow, when his lips quirked, she realized that meant he was waiting for her to stop him. Expecting her to call another halt.
More than once, his fingers hesitated in their tease as if sensing that she was suddenly uncomfortable with the liberties he took. At those points, Mira breathed deep and gave him the slightest nod of a go-ahead. And a smile. That came from her inner nervousness.
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