Today's Sunday Snog is taken from my novella Orchestrating Manoeuvres which is due for release as an e-book tomorrow at Total-E-Bound. ( note - previously published in Treble Anthology.)
I have everything a girl could want; money, beauty, friends in high places. So why does it feel as if there’s a hole the size of Antarctica in my soul?
Because missing Dale has become a way of life and now instead of making love to the man of my dreams I rely on my battery-powered Rampant Rocker and spend my days dodging work and slugging champagne - until, that is, the two heart-stoppingly gorgeous Italian pianists who make up Ingresso Livello decide they want me.
Sing praise to the Lord! That was a red letter day, I can tell you!
Being asked to appear alongside them was risqué and controversial and set many tongues a-wagging. Plus they had a very unique way of thanking me for my troubles - turns out these two delectable musicians were as talented at creating erotic delights in the bedroom as they were at playing mesmerising music on stage.
Just the medicine for my broken heart? Well, it was certainly a deliciously sexy distraction and I would never, ever listen to the tinkling notes of a grand piano the same way again. And as for my broken heart? Well, it felt a whole lot better when everything slotted neatly into place.
This extract is taken as Tiffany is making the video for The Pleasure of Three. In a room full of people and with a bossy film director it doesn't go quite as she planned!
Both my legs were lifted as my two Italian co-stars began to kiss and lick the top of my feet and rub the arch with dexterous movements. Each touch hotwired exquisite sensations to my pussy. I closed my eyes, sighed and writhed. It felt good, so good, but nobody knew that. For all they knew, I was acting—performing for the camera the same way Nari and Ricardo were.
Their mouths explored higher, kissing and licking their way to my knees, my thighs, my hip bones. I became aware of their weight settling beside me on the bed, their hands exploring my body—stroking, smoothing over my flat belly and just skimming the underneath of my breasts through the bra.
“This is lovely,” Nancy cooed. I opened my eyes and spotted her standing at the end of the bed in her fuddy-duddy dress. “But now we want some real action, something suggestive of a full-on threesome. Time to lose the jeans, guys.”
There was a great deal of shifting on the bed as Nari and Ricardo shucked off their denims. Both wore tight black Armani boxers…and both had impressive packages outlined by the material.
“Can we go back a few minutes on the composition?” Ricardo asked as he settled back down next to me.
The music flicked around then started again at a slow, sedate, almost trance-like pace.
“Perfetto,” Nari said, wrapping me in his arms and scooping me on top of him. “Absolutely perfetto.”
I caught my breath as my chest pressed to his as did my thighs and my stomach… Whew, my stomach hit something long and dense and growing in hardness.
“You will have to forgive me,” he murmured softly. “It is not every day I have a practically naked supermodel on top of me. I pride myself in control, but I am, after all, still a mortal man.”
Flustered and turned on, both embarrassed and pleased by his reaction to me, I settled a little more comfortably against him, sliding my hands over his marble hard pecs and dropping my head into his neck.
“Yes, that is it,” Ricardo said nudging apart my legs and flattening his chest over my back. “But a little higher, mio angelo.” Wrapping his fingers around my hip bones, he urged me up Nari’s body.
I gasped as my mound came into contact with Nari’s swollen shaft. And through the soft material of his boxers and the silky gusset of my thong, the first section of my pussy lips parted—just enough for my swollen clit to press against concrete flesh.
Nari tensed. It was as though every muscle in his body froze. I lifted my head and looked down into his desire-heavy eyes. Lust raged in their depths, and his lips were fastened into a tight line.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. What could I say? That I wanted everyone else in the room gone? Well, except for Ricardo, who had settled between my legs and was licking between my shoulder blades.
“Kiss me,” Nari said in a low, scraping voice. “Just kiss me, Tiffany.”
Pressing my lips to his, I muffled my moan of lust against his mouth. The concerto had picked up again, building to its high, excitable crescendo.
“Some movement would be good,” Nancy shouted over the piano music filling the room. “I’m not a photographer, I’m a film director. Listen to the music. You want it to be raunchy, sexy, the talk of the town—hell, the talk of the world—then grasp the beat, pull the music into your hearts and souls. Move, people. Make love, show the pleasure of three.”
Ricardo began to suggestively pump his hips against my butt. What had been only a semi-hard bulge against the cleft of my arse was rapidly turning to granite. My heart pounded, every nerve in my body honed in on the musical geniuses surrounding me, holding me, arousing me. I kept on kissing Nari. His breaths were hard and sharp, his facial hair rasped at my chin and his chest heaved against mine.
“Ahh, angel, you are driving me crazy,” Ricardo murmured by my ear. “Mother of Mary, give me strength.”
My clit was humming, the pressure building, an orgasm teasing me, tripping my heart and claiming my breath. Still Ricardo continued to rock against me, sliding me against Nari’s cock. His thrusting movements, breathy groans and sinful kisses were all designed to titillate viewers…and they were about to tip me over the edge.
I couldn’t come in front of a room full of people, in front of a rolling camera! Oh my God, I was going to!
Have a wonderful Sunday,