New Release - Girls Will Be Girls by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #lesfic #lesbian #erotica #ku #kindleunlimited

Hot new F/F from Lucy Felthouse!

Blurb:

Six sexy Sapphic tales from the pen of popular lesbian erotica author, Lucy Felthouse.

Christmas cheer with colleagues, a driving disaster turned good, hot older women, girls in uniform, gorgeous gardeners and naughty fun in a changing cubicle… this collection contains a variety of erotic tales sure to tickle your fancy.

Available to buy exclusively from Amazon, and to read as part of the Kindle Unlimited programme.

Add to your Goodreads shelves.

Excerpt:

She was now mere inches away, but the thickness of the bushes meant she could still only see the boots and now a bit more of the green trousers. Stepping onto the mud, she crouched down beside the feet, carefully pushing the foliage aside so she could see what the hell was going on, and figure out what she was going to do about it.

The view opened up, and Verity, far from seeing a helpless person lying on the soil, was presented with a green-clad arse reversing hurriedly in her direction!

“Hey!” she said, letting go of the branches and shifting back so abruptly she ended up on her own arse on the grass. “Be careful! Are you all right?”

As the body continued emerging, Verity slowly came to realise her mistake. Dirt-covered trousers, a filthy black waterproof coat, gloved hands, and a head topped with a floppy hat were soon visible. Slim white cables trailing from each ear and disappearing into the collar of the coat explained why she hadn’t been heard calling out, or received a response.

This woman hadn’t hurt herself. She was a fucking gardener!

Frozen in her uncomfortable position, Verity wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Perhaps as revenge for her landing on it so hard. But she had no such luck. Instead, she heard, “What on earth are you doing down there? Are you all right?”

Struck dumb, Verity nodded and took the now glove-free hand that was offered to her, allowing the other woman to pull her up off the grass. “I—I’m fine,” she finally forced out, breaking the brief eye contact and making a show of brushing herself down, though it was probably only her bottom that was dirty. Her cheeks blazed, and she took a step back, hoping to beat a hasty retreat.

“Well, I’m glad. But it still doesn’t explain what you were doing down there.” The ear buds now hung down the woman’s front, and she was apparently poised, awaiting a reply.

Verity shook her head. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

Narrowing her eyes, the gardener said, “Try me.”

Christ. Just to add insult to injury, it seemed she was now suspected of some kind of wrongdoing, too! “I—I was over there,” she pointed to where she’d come from, “and I saw your wellies poking out from the bushes. I panicked because I thought someone had fallen and hurt themselves. I came over to try and help. I did call out to you, to see if you were all right. But all I could see was the boots and a little bit of your trousers. I had no idea what was going on. Much less that you were the bloody gardener and remained oblivious to what I was up to because you had headphones in! I crouched down and pushed the bushes aside so I could see you better, and the next thing I know you’re shuffling back towards me. I shifted out of the way and ended up tumbling over on my bum.”

It seemed her story was too amusing to be anything but true, because the gardener grinned widely, then clapped a hand over her mouth momentarily. “I’m so sorry,” she then said, “I didn’t hear you, honestly. But I guess I can see why you thought that. Thank you so much for coming to check on me, but it really wasn’t necessary. All I was doing was fighting with a particularly vicious weed.” She pointed down to an uprooted plant at her feet, then widened her eyes. “Are you all right? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Twisting to try and look at her bottom, Verity brushed again at the seat of her jeans. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Just a bit of muck and grass stains, I think. Nothing that won’t come out in the washing machine.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad. I feel bad enough as it is without thinking you’ve hurt yourself or ruined your clothes, too.”

“No, I’m good. And I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Silence hung between them for a few moments. Then Verity took another step back. “Right, well, I’d better get going, anyway. Nice to meet you.” She turned to go, but the other woman’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Hey, wait. No need to rush off. I’m just about to go on my tea break. Want to join me? Perhaps a brew will make up for it?” Her green eyes—apt, for a gardener, Verity thought—sparkled with humour and intelligence, and for the first time, Verity realised that, underneath the grubby gardening gear and large hat was a very attractive woman.

Still, an excuse was on the tip of her tongue—she had come here to be alone, after all—but fate intervened. Or the British weather did, anyway. A handful of fat raindrops fell onto her, followed by a few more. Then, the heavens truly opened.

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Facebook Party!

Come and join me at The Mocha Milieu on Friday (9th Oct) between 4pm-6pm UK time (11 am EST) for fun, chat, contests, excepts, sexy pics and more!

Stories for When the Sun Goes Down

Erotic Romance - Collection of Short Stories

My collection of 10 erotic romance stories (yes, there's a good sprinkle of kink in there too!) is a bargain at only 99c/99p from Amazon and many other retail stores including ARe, Kobo and Barnes & Noble (prices may vary at these retailers).

Contents 
Madam President 
The Champagne Whore 
Shy Bird 
The Actress 
Making Shapes 
I Promise to Please 
I Promise to Surrender 
I Promise to Perform 
A Classic Wedding Night 
Stable Manners 

(Please note most of these stories have been previously published in a variety of anthologies)

Masturbation Monday

Welcome to Masturbation Monday - loving this weeks' sexy prompt which makes me think of my short story Escape to the Country, it's an orgy of kink and anything goes!

Our heads moved closer. I licked my lips, so did she. Closer still. The next thing I knew, her mouth was pressing on mine and mine was parting for hers. Who’d instigated it I had no idea.

Her hot tongue probed past my teeth and swept around. I opened up farther, invited her in and relished my first time kissing a woman. Her lips were pliant and gentle, but there was urgency and confidence in them. I dipped my tongue into her mouth and delighted in her sweet, white wine flavour.

I ran my hands over the flimsy silken material of her red dress and down her spine. Travelled onto her behind and over the tops of her thighs, smoothing the silk and absorbing heat from taut, gym-honed flesh.

She let out a tiny whimper and leant her body forward, pressing me against the wall with her chest and hips. Her perfect breasts landed above mine and her hip bones pinned me in place. Her roaming hands caught in my mop of hair and she cradled the back of my skull as she pulled her mouth back an inch. “Let’s take this into your room,” she said on a charged outward breath. “Now, Annie.”

The way she pronounced my name, dripping with lust, sent extra currents of energy pumping to my clit, I was going to have sex with Jane. It was the only thing that could possibly happen next. I was going to touch her gorgeous body all over, feel her writhe beneath my fingers. I was determined to find out how she looked and sounded when she came.

I pressed my hand into the small of her back and practically shoved her into my room. My heart thudded like a jungle drum and my pussy contracted in anticipation. I shut the door with a quite click and turned to face her.

She was the epitome of self control and poise and stood elegantly at the end of the bed, toeing off her heels. My control and poise, however, were nowhere in sight. Tim had wound me up hours ago, and like a bomb, I was ready to go off. But still, I hesitated. Was I cheating on Tim if I fucked Jane?

“Tim won’t mind,” Jane said as if reading my thoughts. “In fact, he’d probably enjoy the show. So would Matt, come to think of it.”

“You think?”

“Sure.” Jane undid three buttons on the front of her dress, slid the spaghetti straps over the delicate slopes of her shoulders and let the material shimmy down her body. It landed in a heap on the floor.

She stood before me totally naked.

My mouth watered.

Thoughts of Tim flew from my mind as I studied the way the twilight seeping through

the window hit her skin. Gold and amber danced over her and made her glow like an unearthly goddess. Her hair was a flame, sparking and flashing as she tipped her head and smiled. She ran a slender hand over the pale triangle of pubes at her pussy as if inviting me to do the same.

And then I was next to her, my palms cupping her breasts. They were even more exquisite than I’d imagined, light and subtle, smooth as silk. I brushed my thumbs over her tiny, neat nipples and felt them respond immediately.

She let out a little sigh and leaned towards me. “You haven’t been with a girl before, have you, Annie?”

I shook my head.

“Oh, that’s so sweet and utterly perfect. Just do what feels right and it will be, it will be right.” She moved back a pace and sat on the bed. “Do what you want to me and then it will be our turn with you.”

Grab your copy of Escape to the Country from Amazon and all other good ebook retailers. Check out the other fabulous Masturbation Monday posts.

Sunday Snog

Welcome to Sunday Snog. This week a few from my super sexy soccer novel Scored.

I stepped into the elevator feeling full after the pizzas I’d just shared with Phil, Ted and James. They’d been good company. Phil flirty, Ted keen to show me pictures of the wife and baby he’d left in Birmingham, and James, well, I think James had a boyfriend. When he flipped his wallet to settle his portion of the bill, there was a picture of a cute guy, his age, wearing a military uniform. In the corner was a small love heart drawn in biro. He saw me looking and I smiled and hoped he realized that for me love was love and everyone deserved to be with the person who made them happy. If he’d found someone that was great. More than great—it was what life was all about.

I glanced at the elevator screen. Damn, I was going down, to the spa instead of up. Oh well. I’d had to get out of the lobby before Medusa-Fellows solidified me anyway.

The doors opened and the chlorinated air from the pool seeped in. But that barely registered in my mind, because standing in red trunks with a white towel slung around his neck was Lewis. His wet hair was mussed up and his skin dewy and damp. Fuck, the guy just got more gorgeous every time I saw him. It wasn’t a case of getting used to his stunning looks, they just bowled me over anew.

“Hello, Nicky,” he said, stepping in next to me.

“Hi.” Seriously, how could he act so cool? How could I be expected to act cool when he looked like every dirty dream and carnal fantasy rolled into one?

The doors slid shut and I pressed the button for level three. “I presume you’re going to your room and not to the lobby dressed like that?”

“Yep.”

I glanced up at him. He was gnawing at the inside of his cheek. His shoulders were raised and tense and he was staring straight at me with a sharp glint in his eye.

“Great game, congratulations.”

“Thank you.” His words were short and clipped.

“What?” I asked, feeling unaccountably off-kilter. Was he angry with me? What had I done? I hadn’t told anyone he’d been in my room for tea. I hadn’t even told anyone we’d ever spoken outside of the press conferences.

“You told me…” he said, “that…”

Okay, now I was really nervous. His eyes were thin slits; I could only just make out that perfect shade of deep-ocean blue through his lashes. “What did I tell you?”

“That you weren’t seeing anyone.”

“I’m not.”

He stepped toward me, big and brooding. His sudden indomitable expression was more than a little disturbing.

I backed up and my shoulders hit the cool mirrored wall.

He followed, penning me in. He was all acres of perfect flesh, toned muscles and steely determination. My stomach somersaulted, my heart rate rocketed and I gripped the brass bar that lined the elevator. I’d never felt so physically small in my life.

“So who was the guy who thought it was okay to wrap his arms around you at the press conference?”

“That was just Phil.” My voice was a little squeaky, but I wasn’t complaining, I was surprised I could even speak. Why the hell would Phil matter to Lewis?

“Just Phil?”

I nodded. “Yes, just Phil.” I could smell Lewis now, a combination of chlorine, soap and raw maleness. As he spoke his sweet breath breezed warm onto my cheek and sent a sizzle of awareness shooting down my middle, tickling my nipples and creating a buzz in my clitoris. This man did seriously dangerous things to my body, like letting it think it was in charge of my brain.

“So he’s not your boyfriend?”

“No, definitely not. Phil is a work colleague who gets a bit flirty now and then. But I hardly know him really.”

I wasn’t sure if I’d said the right thing because a small muscle flexed and un-flexed in Lewis’ cheek and his nostrils flared.

“Really, there’s nothing between us,” I said. “I’m free as a bird, no one to answer to, no one to—”

“Stop talking.” He glanced at the elevator dashboard then turned his attention back to me.

“Why.”

“Because I want to test a theory.” He nipped my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilted my head and dropped his face until his lips were just a hair’s-breadth from mine.

“What theory would that be?” I whispered, wondering if my knees would continue to hold me up for more than another few seconds. Damn, he was so close. I felt completely consumed by him.

“The kiss-and-tell theory.”

“Oh, well I—”

My words were cut short as his mouth connected with mine. Smooth, pliant lips and a softly probing tongue taking possession, owning and controlling.

A small whimper mewed up from my throat. Fuck. Lewis Tate was kissing me. And not only that he was one hell of a kisser. Gentle but firm, and he tasted delicious; fresh and sexy and perhaps a tang of mint.

I opened up and let him in. Searched for his tongue with mine and allowed him to set the pace and depth. Surely I was in the middle of a fantastic dream. How had I got so lucky to have such an incredible man kissing me?

He kept a tight hold of my chin as he pulled away. “You’re so sweet,” he murmured, his downcast gaze searching my face. “So please don’t prove my instincts wrong.”

“What instincts?” I was struggling to catch my breath, control the tremble in my belly.

There was a sudden ping, the elevator jolted to a stop, and the doors slid open.

Lewis backed up rapidly, gripped the ends of the towel that was still around his neck, and squared his stance.

A waiter holding an ice bucket stared in at us.

“Good evening,” Lewis said, stepping past him.

I followed, tightening my purse over my shoulder and avoiding the waiter’s curious stare. Surely he hadn’t seen the captain of the England football team pressing me against the wall and kissing me into oblivion. He’d stepped away by the time the doors had slid open.

Hadn’t he?

Grab your copy of Scored from Amazon

Our Sexy Date ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #Saturday7 #MySexyAuthors

Welcome to My Sexy Saturday - this week a date from the beginning of my erotic menage a trois romance novel The Glass Knot.

By the time my pineapple sorbet and Nick’s chocolate torte arrived I was feeling as mellow as I ever could. My sun-kissed limbs were relaxed and my mood chilled. A holiday with Nick, eating a beautiful meal on our tenth anniversary was about as perfect a moment as I could imagine.

“Mmm, try this,” Nick said, offering forward a dollop of his torte.

I opened my mouth willingly, as I always did for him, no matter what he offered. “Yum,” I said, licking my lips and letting the heavy truffle dissolve on my tongue. “That’s fabulous.”

“Do you still think of Her?” he asked suddenly. His dark gaze captured mine, and his expression fell serious.

“Her?” I knew full well who he was talking about. Her, She, was fictitious, and stemmed from a drunken conversation we’d had several years ago.

“I’m sorry, Josh.” He covered my hand with his. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, it’s fine.”

He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles and stared, unblinking at his caressing movements. “Seriously, forget it.”

I sucked in a deep breath. I couldn’t ignore the question, not now he’d asked it. Because the truth was I did still think of Her. In quiet moments She was conspicuous by her absence. I’d suspected I was gay in my mid-teens, but it wasn’t until I’d met Nick and fallen for him that I’d handed my body over to another person—Nick was still my one and only lover. “You know you’re the most important thing in the world to me, Nick, the pivotal focus of my every waking moment,” I said and then paused, my tongue stalling with words that might hurt. “But yes, I do sometimes still think of being with a woman.”

You can grab your copy of The Glass Knot from Amazon and find out if Josh gets his chance to be with a woman, and if so, what are the consequences for his and Nick's relationship?

Thanks for stopping by, enjoy the other My Sexy Saturday posts...

COVER REVEAL - Muscling In

My new MMF novel Muscling In will soon be released from Evernight Publishing. Here's the fabulous cover which sums up the sexy London mood brilliantly.

My husband has a secret. Desires he’s kept locked away in a deep, dark place.

Determined to pry details of this forbidden longing, I had no idea how much this new side of him would turn me on. So when I met the object of his lust I couldn’t let it rest.

Edward Moorland was a force to be reckoned with, a man who fought for his country and what he wanted. But did he want me and my husband? Would I ever experience his passion let loose or would I remain on the sidelines, watching, waiting, hoping?

One thing I knew, I wasn’t the type of girl to give in without a fight. I wanted to be part of the action too. More than part of it, I wanted to be in the goddamn middle of it with bells, whistles and fireworks when it all exploded. Yes…I wanted it all.

Watch this space for more information including release date.