Masturbation Monday - Orchestrating Manoeurvres #erotica #romance #menageatrois

Masturbation Monday has been going for a whole year - Happy Birthday! - and it's only now I get round to joining in... here goes...

Back Cover Information

The life of a broken hearted supermodel can get pretty dull - there's only so much champagne and caviar one can handle. So, when the opportunity to hook up with two stunning Italian pianists with talented fingers, perfect rhythm and sublime composing presented itself, what could I say but yes, yes yes!

I flopped back on my mountain of pillows, gasping, writhing and shoving Enrique—my new thick, black Rampant Rocker vibrator—into my pussy higher and harder. He was great—long, wide and lined with vein-shaped ridges. And because he was so new to my collection, he seemed to have extra energy, extra enthusiasm for pleasing me. It was as if he was competing for a favoured position in my top drawer.

“Oh, yes, yes,” I called out, upping the speed and finally letting his wicked forked attachment buzz around my clit. “Oh, yes, Enrique!” I twanged forward, sweat forming in my cleavage and my heart pounding. Flattening my palm over my pussy, I held him against my deliciously tormented clitoris. Electric sensations surged through my nerves. My internal muscles clamped and moisture seeped over his shaft, easing his way as I pumped his impressive girth in and out, in and out.

I squeezed my eyelids shut and instantly Dale’s face appeared before me, a hot sheen on his brow and his mouth parted as he gave in to a fierce climax. Tearing open my eyes to shake the painful, memory-laden image, I stared at the huge framed poster of my own face gracing the cover of Vogue last month and came—sharp, intense and breath-taking. God, Enrique is good, worth every penny.

Panting, I pulled Enrique out and tossed him to the bottom of the bed. He’d served his purpose. Started my day with an orgasm. That was why I’d bought him. Carlo just wasn’t doing it for me anymore, his pink, plastic shaft pale and insipid, his rotating glans no longer a novelty and he just didn’t hit the spot with his thin little ears.

I glanced at the clock and sighed. Ten forty-five. I supposed I should get out of bed. Perhaps I could go and get a pedicure—I was already fed up with the Baby Bunting-coloured nail varnish I’d had applied three days ago at The Spa. Or maybe Naomi would be up for champagne and caviar at Jenson’s. I frowned and tried to remember if she was eating at the moment. I couldn’t be sure, but it was worth a try. I rolled onto my stomach and reached for my cell. There were two missed calls, one from my agent and one from my mother. I would sort them out tomorrow.

“Naomi, darling,” I said when she answered on the first ring. “What are you doing today? Fancy some bubbles?” I flipped onto my back and stretched my legs up towards the ceiling, a combined inside leg of an impressive sixty-six inches.

“Tiffany, babe, I thought you would be here. It’s the Tiara event.”

I sat upright and folded my legs. “What...today?”

“Yes, didn’t you speak to Rachel?”

I groaned. “No, I’ve been avoiding her. She’s crazy at the moment, too many hormones.” My agent of four years was in the first few months of pregnancy and driving me nuts with her talk of babies. As if I would be interested in babies—if I didn’t have a perfectly flat stomach I would be out of a job.

“Well you ought to give her a call.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll brace myself.”

“Come on, snap out of it. Where’s your spark gone? Enough moping already, get back out working, if not for the money then for your sanity.”

I could always rely on Naomi to say it how it was. Since Dale had left me three months ago, I’d struggled to get my usual enthusiasm for the world of modelling that I loved so much. Some people had their hearts broken and threw themselves into work—not me. I just wanted to lounge around, play with my toys then head out for something bubbly to drown my sorrows in.

“It will do you good, Tiff,” Naomi was saying, “to get some gigs in the diary and meet some new people. Don’t let him win like this, babe. Show him what he’s missing and he’ll come crawling back.”

Sliding to the side of the bed, I had a sudden rush of determination. She was right. I would snap out of my wallowing. Okay, so Dale had wanted a ‘break’ from dating one of the UK’s highest paid models but still, surely I could find a way with all my connections and attributes to make him wake up to his foolishness. Let him see that I was more than just a face and a body.

I’d made him happy, he needed me in his life, our love was meant to be. I knew all that, so why didn’t he?

I stood and squared my shoulders, pulling in a deep breath. Yes, I’d hit him with a media slap so hard he’d crawl back, begging, on hands and knees. I would teach him that asking for a ‘break’ then not calling all this time to make up was the biggest mistake he’d ever made.

You can purchase Orchestrating Manoeuvres from Amazon and all other good ebook retailers. Don't forget to check out the other Masturbation Monday posts!

Sunday Snog - Orchestrating Manoeuvres

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.)

Blurb - 

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.

Snog

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,

Lily x