B/W image of woman cuddling close in man's lap

Because of the Way He Held Me

Many of you know I write poetry, and usually, it’s quite erotic—whether it be romantic and erotic or downright dirty and erotic.

Today, I’ve got a new poem for you—but it’s not as erotic as I normally write. It’s getting back to my poetry roots, somewhat: a little darker, a little deeper, and in many ways, a little more raw. There was a time all the poetry I wrote was based on something that happened to me, or a relationship I had; this piece definitely flows in the same vein.

I hope you enjoy it.

B/W image of woman cuddling close in man's lap

BECAUSE OF THE WAY HE HELD ME

by

Jade A. Waters

Two silhouettes in a room
Filled with smoke, voices loud
He came to me, cornered me
Whispered, “Won’t you come with me?”
His arm twining round my waist, pulling me close
And I did, knowing for certain
It would be because of the way he held me.

Our dance began—magnificent, tremendous,
Two rushing rivers of lust,
Two colliding powers of desperate force.
When he stared into my eyes, I saw everything—
The world, the stars, the secrets to our souls.
It was all wrong
It was so right
But it was because of the way he held me.

Together, we moved
Hips joined, breaths one
A fire so deep the earth trembled, rolled, split open
A tsunami of sensation crashing over him, over me
Over us.
We were the tide, controlling rivers, lakes, and oceans,
We were the universe
All because of the way he held me.

In the dark of the night, we lingered close
His words more whispers, his fingers tracing swirls
Over the tender spread of my hips—
“Because you’re mine,” he’d say.
And I would cave, succumb
And feel
Making wrong a broken word I didn’t understand
Because this was right
And all because of the way he held me.

Now, the wash of memory sweeps across a distant shore
But his hands are still on me, his lips still near
The brand of a lifetime
So deep in these pores.
And I know it will be this way,
A long, long while
Because of the way he held me.

*

Thank you for joining me for this one.

XX,
Jade

Sexy topless man in a Santa hat

“Office Santa” — A Free Story for the Holidays!

Happy December!

The holiday season is upon us, and there’s nothing I love more than all the cheer and festivity that comes with it. On top of that, I’m a big giver—which is why I’m delighted to share a free story with you for the Christmas season!

Last year, I wrote “Office Santa” about Kristi, a particularly sassy executive administrative assistant who happens to love nothing more than a sexy man in a Santa suit. The story was published in an anthology that sadly had a very short shelf life, but I’ve decided that—since it’s the holidays and all—I would love to share it with you right now.

For free!

This story is by no means short, and it’s damn sassy and filthy. Perfect for the holidays, if you ask me!

So, please get your Christmas spirits ready and sneak under the mistletoe with me. I hope you enjoy “Office Santa.”

Happy Holidays!

XX,
Jade

Picture of silver ballsOFFICE SANTA

by

Jade A. Waters

Me and Office Santa—we go way back.

See, after seven years of organizing our annual holiday party, I’ve learned I have a real affinity for a gentleman in a Santa costume—which is saying a lot, since I love a man in a suit and tie, and the male partners around here look so delicious in their business wear it’s a miracle we don’t have a major sexual harassment problem. But Christ, put one of them in a fuzzy red suit with a squishy belly, a big black belt, matching boots, and that goddamn aphrodisiac of a hat, and I lose all semblance of self-control.

Part of the appeal is the man who dons the suit, of course. Last year, for example, it was David. He’s one of the busiest partners, so watching him slow down to have a glass of wine with the rest of us—appreciating the season and wearing that fantastic red costume—actually made him approachable. I mean, he was always that way with me, but no one ever saw that. Ours was an affair composed of exactly three entanglements: the first on the break room table after the rest of the company had gone home, the second when I picked him up from the airport after a conference since the driver I’d arranged had neglected to show, and the third the time I took him home from the holiday party. He’d spent the night tumbling around my apartment—he was a little awkward with the suit dangling around his thighs because I wouldn’t let him take it off. In return, I kept the sexy Mrs. Claus dress on and let him rip a hole in the crotch of my fishnets so he could get his hands on me. There’s something to be said for a man wearing a Santa hat while under your skirt, shoving his tongue way up inside until you come to visions of sugarplums and all that, so it was a win-win for us both.

For the five years before David, Nelson and Associates had encouraged Michael to wear the suit. Everybody loved Michael—he was charismatic and handsome, and took interest in the lives of our office staff and clients. He also bought presents for all of us executive admins because he understood how hard we worked. He made a point of bringing me an extra special set of gifts when he arrived on my doorstep after the holiday party every year—a bottle of champagne, a box of chocolates, a pair of earrings, and then him in that delicious Santa suit. I told him he could skip the earrings, but he had a thing for putting them in my earlobes for me. He’d trail his fingers along every curve in my ear, then ask me to strip down to my boots and nothing else. I won’t lie—that part always made me hot. Then he’d ask me to suck on pieces of chocolate when he bent me over a chair and fucked me while singing Christmas carols.

The guy was a real freak behind closed doors, and that’s why we had so much fun together during our annual rendezvous. We probably would have done it more often, but a girl can only eat so much chocolate—plus he ended up taking a job at our satellite firm in India.

This year, we at Nelson had some trouble convincing anyone to wear the suit. The role had traditionally gone to one of the partners, and thanks to my hard work arranging schedules, conferences, and international travel, I’d left us with exactly two to choose from come holiday time: Gregory and Nick. Neither of them knew about my Santa habit—in fact, no one in the office did except the lucky few to have donned the suit—but it’s not like I could use that as a bargaining chip anyway. That would be inappropriate.

Gregory was married, so he would have made a terrible candidate. Nick, then, became my sole desire. He had the right name, he was in town for the party, and on top of that, he had an ass I’d been ogling since he joined the firm six months earlier. I could picture it beneath the red seat of the infamous Santa costume, rounding as he’d drive his way inside of me, and I knew I had to get him on my Christmas list.

My job as the lead executive administrative assistant meant I was a busy girl, and organizing the holiday party made everything more complicated this time of year. So while I’d wanted to put on the charm and be the reason Nick chose the suit, I knew better. I’d stuck Shirley on it, with her big blue eyes and amazing tits, because Nick would never say no to a girl like that sweet-talking him into the role.

Please do not misunderstand—Nick was no misogynist. He was, by far, the most respectable, refined, and appreciated partner who had ever worked in our firm. He exceeded Michael’s reputation for charm but struck most of us as a bit more introverted, and his was not the nature to grotesquely harass a pretty subordinate. It’s just that Shirley had a rack even I fantasized about sometimes, and with those doe eyes and melodic voice working for her, it was difficult to resist anything she asked. Plus she was new to the job and ever so polite, and most of us wanted to see her do well.

Besides—sure enough, my plan worked. He’d said yes, she’d felt accomplished, and now I was all set to reap the rewards: Nick and his hot ass in the Santa suit.

I swear to god thinking about it made it impossible to work the week leading up the party. I’d stashed an extra pair of panties in my desk drawer because sometimes I worried I’d soak right through my dress clothes—especially yesterday, when I literally ran into Nick in the break room, both of us careening around the entryway from opposite sides and colliding with one another. I had only a second to appreciate his broad chest smacking against mine, and next there came the realization that my papers were scattered across the floor.

“Oh crap, Kristi—I’m so sorry!” he’d said. We’d looked at one another startled for a minute, me getting somewhat lost in his green eyes as I imagined how they’d pair with his Santa costume in pure Christmas color perfection, and once he flushed in embarrassment at running into me he’d bent over to start picking up my papers.

I’d crouched down beside him, my skirt creeping up on my thighs and catching his gaze. He idled on them long enough that my breath caught in my throat, but then we both set back to work gathering the papers I’d spent the last fifteen minutes organizing.

“Let me know what I can do to help with these. Are they alphabetized? Numerical? God, I’m so sorry!” he repeated. He awkwardly handed the papers over as we both stood back up, but I patted his arm.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Accidents happen. Plus, I can forgive you because you’re playing Santa tomorrow night.” I winked, but it was true. Handsome, polite future-Santas went a long way with me.

Nick snickered. “That I am.”

“Are you ready for your role?”

“Sure. Aren’t I just wearing a suit?”

“Well, you’re Santa. That’s a big deal.”

“Is it? I guess the pressure’s on, huh?” He appeared somewhat ruffled, his ordinarily cool demeanor disturbed by our run-in. I, meanwhile, felt the familiar tingle in my limbs every time I talked to him. Besides being the most attractive man to have worked for the company, he was the nicest. His clients continually raved about him, and I never minded writing his expense reports because he submitted the most detailed, organized receipts and took the time to talk to me instead of dumping them on my desk.

I drew my hands to my hips and nodded very seriously. “You’re the Santa at a holiday party—yes, the pressure’s on! I’m sure I’m not alone in saying that I appreciate a good Santa.”

“Do you?”

Nick peered down at me, and I wondered if he could hear the thumping of my heart. His lips turned up at the corners and I could picture them surrounded by a white beard that I’d tug down before kissing him. In truth, I would have kissed him with or without the costume, which made him playing Santa the best Christmas gift I could ever ask for.

I grinned. “I really do.”

“In that case…I’m looking forward to the party.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair and I shifted my thighs to ease the moisture slicking up between them. It didn’t help that he followed with, “I hear you do an amazing job organizing this thing.”

“Aww. Thanks.”

We stood there for a minute more, silent. Then I remembered I’d scheduled his conference call in five minutes.

“Oh, you better run for your call with TechVibe. Can’t wait to see you as Santa!” I said.

Nick smiled, and I could tell he was curious with the way I’d said the words—a little bit breathy, and a lot flirtatious.

But he was going to play Santa, after all.

That’s about the only thing I could think about for the next day, which was a real pain with the list of tasks I had to accomplish before we closed down early that Friday for the party. Somehow, I made do, getting a two hour head start on everyone else to finish decorating the local community center. I’d rented it out the last few years to much fanfare, since we all seemed to prefer to celebrate the holiday away from the office. The space afforded a kitchen for the caterers plus a couple expansive rooms, and I typically designated one for the bar and the majority of the food, one for the hired piano player and the late-night raffle, and the other one for general socialization. That’s where I planted Santa—away from the big time revelers so I could keep my eye on him, but near enough to still be part of the fun.

The staff at the community center had kindly allowed me to swap out their Christmas tree star with one we’d designed for Nelson the year before—it was a blue neon monstrosity with the letter ‘N’ on it, for spirit—and I propped it up there with my annual sigh of appreciation that the Nelson staff didn’t mind a more Christmas-oriented party. We’d done a Hanukkah thing four years prior and then took a survey to be P.C. about it, and it turned out most everyone preferred the Christmas theme. Everyone except Margaret, that is, but she’d admitted to me she hated holidays in general, so when I started offering her a box of shortbread cookies as the season kicked off every year, she’d told me she was satisfied with a great big hug.

I finished teetering on the ladder in my heeled boots as my colleagues began to arrive. I was fully costumed already, wearing my flouncy plush red Mrs. Claus dress that I’d cinched in at the waist with a belt identical to that of the Santa suit. I’d also replaced the black fishnets David ripped last year with a pair of bright red ones. The whole get-up was a tad risqué for a work event, but no one ever complained—especially not the Santas.

“Oh Kristi, this place looks fantastic!” Shirley squealed. She and a handful of others had joined the company since last Christmas, and the group of them peered around in wonderment at all the classy decorations sparkling in greens, reds, silvers, and golds that complemented the pianist’s sophisticated renditions of Christmas carols.

She gave me a hug, then looked me over. “You look amazing. You’re the sassiest Mrs. Claus I’ve ever seen!”

“Thanks, Shirley.” I couldn’t stop myself from admiring her chest—she’d arrived wearing the red angora sweater that made her breasts stand out more than normal, and once the drinks started flowing, the men were going to have a field day watching her. There were usually a few hookups at these events beyond my secret Santa one, but I figured Shirley was clever enough to avoid raising suspicion this early on in her tenure.

I pointed out the various rooms to her and the others who started pouring through the door, greeting each colleague with a hug and a raffle ticket before they dispersed. Everyone was here to have a good time, and since I worked with a group of people who actually enjoyed one another’s company, this was bound to happen. I was eager to roam around and socialize myself, but a Mrs. Claus certainly can’t function without her mister.

It was that Mr. Claus that arrived about twenty minutes later, his tall, fit body hidden in the Santa costume and sending a chill down my spine.

“Nick Claus!” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. His entire palm engulfed my fingers and I grinned. “You look fantastic.”

And did he ever. The rugged lines of his face peeked out from behind the white beard, and when he raised his eyebrows they grazed the matching wig he’d braved beneath the Santa hat. His stuffed belly jutted out around his belt and he’d laced the boots up over the bottom of his pants like they were supposed to be worn, so they tapered neatly at his calves. I couldn’t wait to check him out from the rear, where I knew the white hem of his jacket would draw attention to the red fabric covering the exquisite shape of his ass.

“Good enough?” he asked. He pushed the curls of the wig away from his forehead and fondled the hat atop his head. That hat brought back so many memories, except tonight I wanted nothing more than to make new ones with him—Nick Claus, the real Claus. The best damn looking Santa Claus this office had ever seen.

“Oh yeah,” I muttered. He still hadn’t released my hand, and I’m not sure if it was the way I said the words—which is to say, completely breathless as I stared over him in that costume—or if he just happened to fully peer over me then, but Nick squeezed my fingers rather abruptly before kissing the back of my hand.

“You look delightful yourself, Mrs. Claus.” He kept my hand in his and twirled me around, then rested his free hand on his giant belly. “I hope saying so doesn’t overstep a bound…”

Nick had about a million bounds to overstep with me that evening, and I was ready. I scooted close to him, tilting my lips up toward his ear and lowering my voice so he’d have to lean to hear me over the pianist’s melody.

“I love a good Claus, Nick, so you can tell me whatever you wish tonight.”

His cheeks flushed the perfect red to match his costume, and I backed away lest anyone see us. Excitedly, I guided him to the main room and pointed out the lavish rocking chair designated for him.

“This is your room, and you’re obviously welcome to roam around,” I said, gesturing toward the other rooms. “But when it comes time for people to sit on Santa’s lap, you know where you need to be.”

Nick wrinkled his nose. “Shirley didn’t tell me about that. Neither did you.”

“I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but don’t worry—it will work in your favor. Promise.”

I didn’t give him time to ask what I meant, instead running off to check on the caterers. It was awfully challenging to focus with him filling out that suit so damn well, and the wet spot in my thong wasn’t helping much, either.

After checking in on the food and the rest of the guests, I ordered a vodka cranberry from the bartender and began to circulate. The Nelson crew enjoyed themselves—everyone drinking and chatting, eating and laughing, and most everyone taking pictures with Nick in his delectable costume. I’d delegated raffle duties to Caroline this time, and she started it up fairly quickly while I doubled back to stand with Nick.

“How are you doing in that suit?”

“It’s pretty warm in here with all the stuffing.” He patted his belly. “But everyone seems happy so I’ll make do. You threw one hell of a party, Kristi. Nicely done.”

I held up my glass and he clanked his drink against mine. Then we stood together to watch the raffle, like Mr. and Mrs. Claus surveying the cheerful people around us. My knees grew weaker by the second, and I let my fantasy reel of Nick Claus play out while Caroline spoke into a microphone and handed presents out for the next twenty minutes. Once she’d distributed the last prize, some of the staff opted to go home. Most of them had spouses and family waiting there, which was fine since it left the rest of us to enjoy more of the bar services.

And of course, Santa’s lap time.

Nick could hardly stop laughing when I ushered him into his rocking chair and announced that the next thirty minutes were open for some “Santa Seat Time” in order for everyone to tell him what they wanted for Christmas. It was a novelty we’d started back when Michael held the role, and Nick played along like a good volunteer while I hung back with the other assistants.

“He looks absolutely ridiculous in that costume,” Betsy said. “He’s such a hunk normally, but throw him in a Santa suit and it ruins everything for me.”

A few of them bobbed their heads in agreement, and I pursed my lips to keep from protesting. They could think whatever they wanted—that man, in that costume, was sending trembles through my body that made me want to climb into his lap right then.

Elliott tapped my shoulder. “Hey Mrs. Claus, don’t you get to tell him what you want for Christmas, too? You arranged this party, after all.” He gave my fishnets a glance and snorted. “And for God’s sake you fit the part.”

I shrugged, though I longed to do exactly that. Instead, I watched Gregory finagle his way into Santa’s lap, making poor Nick mighty uncomfortable.

“Now that is funny,” Betsy said.

Sexy topless man in a Santa hat

“Every lady should get to tell Santa what she wants.”

The pianist began pounding out “Jingle Bells” and I squeezed my knees together, both because watching Nick costumed in the rocking chair was making it hard to stand, and because I remembered it being Michael’s favorite carol to sing when he fucked me.

Regardless, I knew the tune was toward the end of the pianist’s lineup since I’d checked his set list in advance, and I appreciated the nearing finale. There was no telling how late everyone would mingle once the music died down, but hopefully it wouldn’t be for too long.

I had a Santa to seduce.

Nick patted Gregory on the ass with a boisterous laugh when he left the rocking chair, a chummy gesture indicative of the right amount of alcohol loosening him up in his costume, and my urge to fuck him amplified so extensively that my nipples peaked beneath my dress. I wanted that Santa like I’d never wanted the two before him, and I knew the only way to get through the rest of the party was to channel all my focus into gabbing, frolicking, and flirting like my other tipsy colleagues until everyone went home for the weekend. At 10:30, the last few stragglers were gathering their prizes and hugging one another good night while I stood eyeing the Christmas tree, and Nick came up behind me.

“Ready for it to be over?” he asked.

He’d pulled the beard down around his chin, but I didn’t mind. He had the most beautiful face framed by all that fake white hair, and he still had the hat on properly. He took a step forward, the stuffing of his belly so protrusive he almost grazed it against me, and a shiver rippled through my body.

“Kind of, but I do enjoy seeing everyone have a good time.”

“Of course.” He smiled down at me, his eyes a little glossy from the booze and no doubt the warmth inside his costume, and I ached to scale every inch of his red-wrapped body there by the tree.

“It’s late though, and there’s some clean up…”

“Do you want some help?” He blurted it out so fast it was like he’d been waiting to say it. The last three guests at the door interrupted by shouting out my name. One of them was Shirley, who held the final food tray of many she’d generously toted to her car over the last thirty minutes. She glanced between Nick and me with a curious gaze, so I held up a finger to pause him and shimmied over to plant a kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks for your help, darling,” I said. “You’re a great addition to our company and I’m so glad we have you.”

She beamed, distracted enough by the compliment that her wonder was tempered. She waved goodbye and slipped out the door with the other two assistants, none of them taking any notice of Santa Claus staying behind with his missus.

Once I shut the door I turned around, rolling Nick’s offer around in my head. I’d paid extra to keep the key so that I could get a cleaning crew in here the next day, and though there were a few things to handle that Shirley hadn’t already done, I’d planned on leaving most of it till morning so I could figure out how to get Nick to myself.

“Sorry about that,” I said.

“No problem. You’re so good with everyone, and I admire all your work.”

I rested my hands on my hips, not sure what to say. My thoughts were wrapped up in how to get into his suit, so I bit my lip in contemplation.

“But about the help—do you need any? I feel like I owe you for scattering your papers everywhere yesterday.”

“Oh, shh,” I said. I waved him off and cocked my hip out to the side, and he eyed my legs while smoothing his hands over his stuffing-filled belly. “Besides, there’s not much to do tonight.”

“Okay.”

There was a hint of disappointment in his voice, which made it much easier to share my next thought.

“However, I didn’t get any Santa Seat Time.”

Nick chuckled, the motion jostling the padding of his belly. “Every lady should get to tell Santa what she wants,” he said.

He stuck out his hand and I took it, blissfully aware of the heat that rushed into my pussy at the prospect of telling him precisely what I wanted for Christmas. He led me to his rocking chair, and though no one was there to see us, I’m sure we looked a pair—Mr. and Mrs. Claus, walking hand in hand across the hardwood floor of the local community center.

Nick scooted back into the seat and patted his thigh, and it was a Christmas miracle I didn’t come right then.

I stood beside him while he steered his gaze from my face down to my boots.

“Well, well, well, young lady,” he said, in classic Santa fashion. I gave a brief curtsy, and Nick guided me onto his thigh. The soft felt of his costume was delightful on my ass through the holes of my fishnets, and I squirmed on purpose. Nick coughed, then said, “Kristi…er, Mrs. Claus…fancy seeing you here in my lap.”

I stared into his eyes. Against the red of the costume they shined the brightest green, and I was ready for him to show me naughty and nice. “Can I tell you what I want for Christmas, Santa?” I said, pursing my lips.

He shifted.

“Why yes, yes you can.” He curved his hand around my side, drawing me closer, and I took this as an excuse to sidle directly against his belly.

Nick gasped, since my thigh now rested against the hard-on he had hidden beneath those fuzzy red pants.

“Oh my Santa,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “It appears you might be after the same Christmas wish that I am.”

“Kristi—”

I placed a finger over his lips, then grabbed his hand. He’d skipped the costume gloves, but that was okay because they’d be in the way for what I did next—which was shove his hand up my skirt. “Are you okay with this?”

Nick grinned. He snuck his fingers against the crevice between my thighs. He stroked them down and back up, his fingers still hot through my fishnets and panties. I scooted as close as possible and moved my mouth near his.

“Are you?” he asked.

“I have a thing for the costume and I just put your hand under my skirt. Do you really need to ask?”

“You’re turned on by this suit?” He pressed his fingers harder against me, finding the swollen nub of my clit through the fabric and swiping at it a few times.

“Oh yes,” I panted.

We sat there for a moment, his fingers chafing me though the layers of fabric and my breath pouring raggedly against his face.

“Tell me more,” he said.

“Well,” I said, “I’ve been a very good girl, so I think I should get everything I want for Christmas.”

The words made his cock lurch against my thigh, so I slipped my hand under his jacket. Buried beneath that stuffing was the fly of his red pants, and I hooked my fingers on the button and tugged until it snapped open. Nick caressed me faster and I snuck my hand inside his briefs, taking him into my palm with a groan.

“You’re rock hard, Santa.”

Nick nodded. “And you’re damn wet, Kristi. What do you want for Christmas?”

I glided my hand along his length a few times, loving the way he squinted his eyes. It was like Santa having a jolly good laugh, even though his beard was out of place. Nick weaved his fingers through the holes of my tights and under the sides of my thong, and when he managed to get two of them inside me, I whimpered.

“You, Santa,” I growled. I stroked him more furiously and he did his best to shove his fingers deep despite the fabric in the way. I wrapped my free hand around his neck and pulled him close, and right before I kissed him, I said, “I want to fuck you, Claus.”

Nick’s cock throbbed against my hand and I slammed my lips against his. We were kissing—me and Nick, Office Santa and me—and our tongues tangled together as we clawed at one another’s sex. This Santa could kiss, and when he thrust against my hand I climbed up to straddle him. The motion sent the rocking chair swinging and both of us gave a startled shriek. We took a minute to balance ourselves before I rolled my hips against his crotch, feeling the thickness of his rod though the fabric that separated us.

“Here?” he asked between kisses. He didn’t wait for an answer, tugging down the neckline of my dress to expose my bra. He bit at my chest, pulling my breast free of the cup so he could take my nipple in his lips, and when he sucked on the tip I grinded against him until he moaned.

I took that as my cue, reaching down and ripping a hole in my fishnets—I’d already replaced them once, so what was one more time, anyway? Next I yanked my panties aside and Nick gasped.

I guided him against my cunt, skimming my wetness with his dick, and while I teased myself in this way I stretched my other hand to my boot to retrieve the condom I’d shoved inside earlier. Nick chuckled before I ripped it open and worked it down over his length, but his laughter became a heavy groan when I slid over him and took him deep.

“Oh Kristi!”

Nick Claus was inside me, and already I could feel my body shaking. I rocked against him, sending the chair swinging again, and both of us moaned. He crept his hands beneath my skirt and cupped my ass, his fingers digging the fishnets into my skin as he lifted me up and down. The motion of the rocking chair became a consistent swing that matched our stride. He felt so good I grabbed the bars of the chair so I could slam down over him, and when my free hand sank into the padding of his belly I moaned again.

“Nick, oh Claus…”

He kissed me, but it was messy and broken, both of us writhing against one another in a careful balance of fucking and rocking in that chair. Our breathing became frenzied, and he made grunts that no decent Santa would make as I rode him like the naughty Mrs. Claus I was. The fabric of his costume had slipped between us and grated against my clit in the most pleasant of ways, and as Nick yanked me against him, I felt the pleasure coming over me faster than a midnight sleigh ride around the world.

“Santa!” I cried, jerking against him. The orgasm rolled over me hard and I buried my head against the shoulder of his costume, biting at the fabric as I came. I kept thrusting over him, my mind numb as I trembled around him, his fingers clawing at my ass when he arched and slammed me back down.

“Fuck!” Nick drove into me with one final thrust, and then the two of us huddled around his belly in a panting stupor. Neither of us spoke as the swing of the chair settled to a halt.

It took a good minute for us to come to our senses. I leaned back and stared over him, then wiped the sweat off his hairline. Nick’s face was bright red, but that was to be expected having fucked in a Santa costume. His hat and wig dangled precariously and exposed his dark brown hair beneath, and I couldn’t help but grin.

“Wow,” was all I mustered.

“Wow is accurate,” Nick said.

Slowly, I climbed out of his lap. My limbs were sore from the awkward position on the chair, but every other part of me felt phenomenal. I admired him as I stood before him—his hat cockeyed, his red jacket wet with our sweat, and his withered shaft poking out from the crotch of his Santa pants—and then I adjusted my hat.

“So what’s it like playing Santa?”

Nick grinned.

“Far better than I expected. Especially with such a hot Mrs. Claus.”

“Well, Merry Christmas!” I said.

He grabbed my hand and drew me closer, his arms as tight as they could be around my waist with the girth of his belly between us. He covered my chest in kisses, then slid his hands over my ass.

“As far as I can tell, Christmas isn’t over.”

“No?” I asked. I gave him a quick kiss, and when I stood again, he crept his hands under my skirt and grasped the waistband of my fishnets and panties. I straightened his hat on his head while he eased the fabric down over my hips, my breath catching in my throat.

“Nope. I haven’t unwrapped all the presents yet.”

I giggled as he dipped beneath my skirt, the tip of his Santa hat all I could see peeking out from beneath the hem. His tongue slid over my swollen folds when he slipped a finger inside me, and I gripped the back of his head with a giddy smile.

I don’t know if Nick will play Santa at our next holiday party, but for this year, I’d certainly gotten everything I asked for.

*

Cover of Chemical (se)X

“The Connection” is Part of Chemical [se]X—Out Today!

Hi everyone! Great news—Chemical [se]X is out today! This anthology is the product of one crazy sexy idea offered up by the lovely Oleander Plume. See, once upon a time, Oleander wrote a story about a couple of scientists who stumbled upon a very special type of chocolate—an aphrodisiac chocolate, released into the world to improve the lives of, well, everyone.

So a bit after writing this, Oleander asked a randy crew of us if we’d like to write a story based on her chocolate idea. The answer was an easy yes, and the results are one gorgeous collection filled to the brim with chocolate, sex, chocolate, and…more sex! I’m tickled to have “The Connection” alongside the work of several other authors with whom I’m familiar—Tabitha Rayne, Annabeth Yeong, and Jacob Louder, and especially my Pillow Talk cohorts, Tamsin Flowers and Malin James—and then there are some up-and-comers who arrived ready to rock your world, such as Ella Dawson and Exhibit A. But that’s not all! This baker’s dozen all created something new for the chocolate theme, and their stories are released into the wild today. To celebrate, I’d like to share an excerpt of my story, plus a blurb!

“The Connection” is a story about a once-overtly sexual couple losing the spark in their marriage—until the wife, Aubrey, decides it’s time to do something about it with a box of these special chocolates.

Read on for a morsel of “The Connection”:

Heavy and taunting, the container had banged against her hip when she hoisted her purse over her shoulder, its presence as poignant as the need deep in her sex when she pondered what might happen after Terence came home. The wonder burned on as she waited for him, and when she ran her fingers across the top of the box, she tilted her head coyly to the side. Aubrey could actually smell the truffles through the cardboard and the wrapping, the scent definitively chocolate with a whiff of crisp mint and grass beneath. But there was something else, too. It was earthy and rich, she realized, much like arousal.

Her arousal.

Aubrey wanted to wait for Terence, but she ached to know what these chocolates could do. Lifting the lid, she admired the six candies inside, each piece tempting her from within the black and white polka-dotted foil cups. The store clerk had explained this decorative packaging as specific to the premium box, “guaranteed to satisfy” or her money back tomorrow.

How could she resist?

Quickly, Aubrey grabbed a chocolate and took the smallest nibble, then nested the candy back in its cup. The dark chocolate tingled along her tongue and down her throat when she swallowed, the sensation peculiar and warm. It had to be her imagination, but the lid was barely back on the box when the feeling spread through her neck, her breasts, and her arms. It was powerful, overwhelming and sweet—exactly how she felt when Terence thrust inside her, making her whimper and writhe in passion.

Aubrey gasped.

That. Yes, that.Cover of Chemical (se)X

*

Taste the blurb:

Sex and chocolate! Was there ever such a marriage made in heaven? Isn’t the thought of it making you bite your lip? Chocolate melting on your tongue…desire pooling in your gut… Pheromones, endorphins, theobromine…there’s a chemical connection between sex and chocolate that makes our craving for the pair together far more than the sum of its parts.

Oleander Plume has always been obsessed by this coupling and so, inspired by her wicked short story Chemical [se]X, she corralled a baker’s dozen of erotica writers and force fed them chocolate until they complied with her wishes. Each one of them has turned in a mini-masterpiece of chocolate, seduction and red-hot sizzling sex that will have your cheeks burning and your fingers reaching for just…one…more.

All of the writers Oleander selected are at the top of their high caliber game. From seasoned writers who’ve already proved their mettle to a number of extraordinarily gifted newcomers, you’ll find so much satisfaction between these pages. In every story, the aphrodisiac chocolates developed in Oleander’s original story put in an appearance—causing a submissive to turn Domme, kicking off an orgy at a roller disco, rekindling a long-dead marriage, and playing havoc within the repressed confines of religious order. Men jump on men, a woman jumps on her husband’s boss, twosomes become threesomes become foursomes… These chocolates need to carry a warning—just like this book—too hot to handle!

Naturally, each copy of Chemical [se]X should come with its own small gold box of aphrodisiac chocolates. We’re so sorry it doesn’t! But rest assured, the stories you’ll find between these pages will leave you just as heated as any aphrodisiac could have done. Finger-licking good!

Partake of the feast:

Oleander Plume’s “Chemical [se]X” kicked the whole thing off as a potent South American herb is developed into the most irresistible chocolate ever.

In Malin James’s “Bittersweet,” one taste of the sexy chocolates is enough for a submissive to come over all Domme with her married lover.

For her first published outing, Ella Dawson takes us back to the college dorm where the “Friendly Neighborhood Drug Dealer” is peddling candy that has a whole new affect…

In “Flat Warming,” Exhibit A’s lovelorn bachelor finds succor when a different kind of hunger drives new flat mates to set aside the sweets and start munching on each other instead.

For a long-time married couple, life in the bedroom has virtually ground to a halt in Jade A Waters’ “The Connection.” That is until the wife hears about a new brand of chocolate…

In Tabitha Rayne’s, “The Dinner Guest,” a couple unearth their secret kinky desires when an old college friend starts dishing out the chocolates.

When a temp lands a job in the offices of the chocolate manufacturer, she uncovers some unexpectedly sweet perks… It’s “Chocolate Covered” by F. Leonora Solomon.

In “[du]X,” Dario Dalla Lasta takes us for a testosterone-charged spin around the roller-disco courtesy of, you guessed it, some very special chocolates.

When her husband’s boss comes for dinner, one woman’s dessert turns into something extraordinary when she chooses a novel ingredient for making the ganache—”Dinner for Three” from L. Maretta.

In Jacob Louder’s “Thursday Threesome/Birthday Foursome” the usual dynamic of a Thursday threesome is all shook up by the arrival of an extra guest and the ingestion of the aphrodisiacs.

C. E. Hansen offers us a sizzling journey home from work in “The Commute”—after all, why wait until you get home?

Disappearing into the woodshed usually means a horror story, but not in Tamsin Flowers’ lethargic, Deep South encounter with “The Stranger.”

In Oleander Plume’s “Coffee Break,” two young contractors take on more than they bargained for at the Mayor’s residence—but then maybe they shouldn’t have helped themselves to the chocolates!

The collection closes with “The Alleged Savage,” Annabeth Leong’s delicious novella of repressed lust, original sin and chocolate frenzy in a strict religious order.

***

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt for “The Connection,” and also that this blurb has whet your appetite for some chocolate-infused erotica! You can find out more about Chemical [se]X and its authors right here, or, please head on over to Amazon to pick up your copy!

I assure you, it’s one sweet surprise. 🙂

XX,
Jade

Cover of Rose Caraway's Dirty Thirty Audiobook

Sexy Spec Fic Coming Soon!

Some of you may know I dabbled for almost two decades in the speculative fiction world before I officially realized I loved writing erotica. And while now I prefer this realm, I still enjoy the occasional opportunity to turn something naughty to something bizarre or surreal, or even to take it out to another planet.

Cover for Among the StarsSo…imagine my delight at having three Spec Fic erotica pieces coming out in two hot anthologies releasing in the next few months! Hurray!

The first is a charity anthology I briefly mentioned in my September Kicked My Ass post. It’s called Coming Together: Among the Stars, and is a sci-fi themed collection edited by Lynn Townsend to benefit International Still’s Disease Foundation. You can find out more about it here, as well as see all the other fabulous contributors I’m proud to join for this great cause! I’ll share some back story and an excerpt of my story, “The Joy Ride,” closer to the release date (late November), but for now let me offer you a brief preview: in my head, I subtitle this piece “Orgy In Space.”Cover of Rose Caraway's Dirty Thirty Audiobook

So…um…get the picture? 😉

Now, on to the next anthology—I’m also thrilled to announce that both “The Bells” and “The Doll” are going to be a part of Rose Caraway’s Dirty Thirty audiobook coming out later this year. If you didn’t already catch Ms. Caraway’s fabulous narration of my story “Soundscapes” on The Kiss Me Quick’s Erotica Podcast back in July, please do. Only then can you understand how ridiculously, giddily excited I am to be part of this sexy new audiobook. On top of that, Rose Caraway managed to summon crazy shit out of my head (no, really). “The Bells” is a super dark alternate history piece, and “The Doll”…well…I just can’t wait to tell you more about these pieces when we get nearer the release date! 🙂

For now, I encourage you to ogle these fabulous covers as many times as I am (lots)!

XX,
Jade

P.S. “The Match”—the last poem of my 7-Day Poem Challenge—is featured over at The Erotic Woman today! The site is full of steamy stories and poems, so please click on over and take a peek! (NSFW images.)

 

 

My personal optimist motto pencils, a gift from Alison Tyler

You Win Some, You Lose Some (But Then You Win More)

It is finally October.

*Breathes enormous sigh of relief.*

My Sexy Optimist Pencils from Alison Tyler

Alison Tyler got me these pencils from Carbon Crusader as a participation prize—with my own personal motto on them!

To be clear, September was probably the most brutal month I’ve had in years. I had a gazillion things going on (no, really, a gazillion), and I felt more challenged than the proverbial hamster on a wheel. See, I was a runner on a treadmill asked to juggle fireballs, kittens, and jello with one hand tied behind my back, wearing a blindfold and chewing gum while also singing Christmas carols. It was nuts! My day job went full-tilt chaos; I had so many events scheduled I turned insomniac again; I had a jury duty run that, to be honest, was extremely emotional and brought up some old “stuff” for me (fortunately, I was dismissed after two days); and on top of all that, I wasn’t getting my words in. I’m an extremely fast writer, but when you don’t have the time, you don’t have the words. I also try not to write when I haven’t been sleeping, because bad things happen—I get forgetful. Plot points disappear. Characters lose important traits. Dialogue gets painful. And on and on…I mean heck, even outside the writing, I was so tired I had two conversations with a friend in one day and completely forgot it was her birthday. OMG. I don’t do that, like, ever—I’m the Keeper of the Birthdays! (Fortunately, she’s not a big birthday person. She laughed the whole thing off and told me to get some sleep.)

So all stressful things aside, here’s the deal—I’m generally a super optimist. I admit, I struggled to hang on to that as the month continued, and I had to keep reminding myself what a certain family member of mine always says: “How do you eat the elephant, honey? One bite at a time.

I would never eat the legendary Bertha, but you get the idea.

I would never eat the legendary Bertha, but you get the idea.

So I kept repeating that to myself…

One bite.

One bite.

One bite.

Come here, Bertha baby, you’re mine.

In truth, some of this figurative elephant eating was pretty kick-ass, and since there was so much goodness, I’m going to list it out for you:

♦ I got to join Rose Caraway in a bunch of readings for The Sexy Librarian’s Big Book of Erotica. It needs to be said I love reading out loud, plus, I got to read my girl Tamsin Flowers’s delightful story, “POW! It’s Shibari Girl!” Great story, great events, AND, as it turns out, reading with Rose is better than ice cream with brownies and fudge sauce on top. It’s so much fucking fun! It doesn’t hurt that she and her fabulous husband, Big Daddy, are like the nicest, sweetest people on the planet, so every event I attended and participated in was fantastic!

♦ I hung out with other amazing people at all these events, too! Of course there was the lovely Malin James (whom I’m so close to I’m convinced she is my twin separated at birth), the sassy and delightful social media guru Eva Gantz, and the charming and sweet Sinclair Sexsmith. I had so many incredible conversations with each of them!

♦ Malin James and I went to one of Rose Caraway’s events as viewers, and we ended up having drinks with Rose, Big Daddy, and the legend that is Rachel Kramer Bussel. Guys, seriously—I had drinks with Rose, Big Daddy, Rachel KB, and Malin! Holy smokes!

♦ I finished my edits for Coming Together: Among the Stars, a sci-fi erotica anthology edited by Lynn Townsend and coming soon to benefit International Still’s Disease Foundation. I’ll have details on the book and my story, “The Joy Ride,” in the near future!Cover of Among the Stars

♦ I joined a randy group of wild writers for an upcoming anthology called Chemical (Se)X. Details forthcoming, but for now I’ll just say chocolate and sex.

♦ I got to support my graphic memoirist friend, MariNaomi, in the release of her new book in San Francisco! Mari is a personal friend and mentor in many ways, so I loved seeing her celebrate the release of her book. So proud!

♦ I celebrated my soon-to-arrive niecey #2 or nephew #1 (to be determined!) at a baby shower. (I love being an auntie.) 🙂

♦ I wrote several erotic poems inspired by the challenge Tamsin Flowers issued at our last Pillow Talk Secrets session. This was fun and fabulous; I got to stir up my poetry roots while getting in some smutty words in seriously short time increments—and I even started a page for it! This was the bulk of the writing I did all month. You know what? It wasn’t a ton, but it still felt like a win. And speaking of wins…

♦ I shared more fabulous moments with my Pillow Talk girls. Malin James and Tamsin Flowers are, quite simply, the loveliest. I’m a happy camper having the both of them in my life. (MUAH to you both!)

♦ And then there was the ginormous feat…I completely transferred my website to a self-hosted space. This involved a whole heck of a lot of design and setup work behind the scenes that could not have been possible without my awesome teacher, DomSigns. When his dreamy wife, Molly Moore, initially offered to help, I had no idea what I was in for—namely, a bevy of delightful Skype sessions that resulted in (a) me learning a ton and (b) us laughing a lot (mostly at naughty jokes). I can now proudly say that this site is damn near done and censorship free. There are a few other little things I have planned and/or need to fix, but holy torpedo, Batman, transfer complete!

So basically, despite all the chaos, I came out smiling. I may be ragged and tired, but I’m happy and have time again—which means I can get back to the book I had half-written before The Attack of September. Yeah!

Now, I just have one more thing to say:

October, baby—you’re my bitch.

XX,
Jade

 

Cover of Kristina Wright's Best Erotic Romance 2015

“Fertile” Included in Best Erotic Romance 2015!

It may only be September, but somehow 2015 feels right around the corner…so why not share some big news today?

As you may know, Kristina Wright is the fabulous editor of the Best Erotic Romance series from Cleis Press. Well, the newest installment, Best Erotic Romance 2015, will be out in just a few months—and I’m delighted to share that my story “Fertile” will be included in the anthology! Hurray!

Check out the sexy cover:

Cover of Kristina Wright's Best Erotic Romance 2015

Doesn’t that just make you melt? I positively love it!

Next, take a peek at the line-up:

Introduction: Only the Best
Foreword by Tiffany Reisz
Siren’s Song by Renee Luke
Off the Beaten Path by Heidi Champa
Fair Game by Crystal Jordan
Late Bloomers by Annabeth Leong
Sunday Mornings Like These by Kiki DeLovely
Lotus by Emerald
What Happens at Sea by Tina Simmons
The Luxury Lane by Sommer Marsden
Just Can’t Explain by Martha Davis
The Couch by Malin James
Again by Axa Lee
Fertile by Jade A. Waters
All Your Tomorrows by Skylar Kade
The Crop by Claire de Winter
Mates by Jillian Boyd
Champion by Kathleen Tudor
The Proposal by Tamsin Flowers
Love Lasts by Kristina Wright

Wow! I am so thrilled to be included with all these wonderful writers (and super extra excited that all the Pillow Talk girls will be sharing pages)!

I’ll post an excerpt as we get closer to the release date, but in the meantime, you can mark the book as “Want to Read” on Goodreads. It’s also available for pre-order right now on Amazon!

I think this one is going to be fantastic, folks!

XX,
Jade

 

The Big Book of Submission Blog Tour Logo

The Big Book of Submission Blog Tour is Here!

The Big Book of Submission: 69 Kinky Stories is out now from Cleis Press, and I have to say, I’m thrilled to be part of another of Rachel Kramer Bussel’s super sexy flash fiction collections. The stories in here are shorter—1,200 words or less—which means the anthology is packed full of stories from writers I’m proud to share pages with, each one providing a new take on submission.

My story in the anthology is called “Others,” and I previously posted an excerpt here—so today I want to focus on the story itself as well as share a somewhat hilarious behind-the-scenes tale. Let’s start with the story. “Others” is the first time I ventured from the lighthearted and playful stories I started with into a darker, heavier style. The bulk of this was that I wanted to experiment with a tone I used back when I wrote speculative fiction, but another part was approaching themes I gravitate to both as a writer and a reader—submission, exhibitionism, and m/f/m dynamics. The first, submission, has always intrigued me; I’m captivated by the trust involved in surrendering to someone else, as it’s an entirely different level of intimacy that I find intensely powerful. The second theme, exhibitionism, is dear to my heart—I’ve confessed on an alternate blog tour stop that my first orgasm with another person was under a third person’s watchful eye, and thus the concept has long been one I like to explore in my work. Finally, there’s the m/f/m dynamic…well, let’s say this fascination sparked the night I walked into my senior prom with not one, but two dates on my arm. Ah, memories…

The Big Book of Submission Tour LogoAll right, moving along…now that we got the deep dark part of this out of the way, I need to flash my lighter side (for those of you of the astrology ilk, I am a Gemini, through and through). See, I have a somewhat ridiculous and embarrassing behind-the-scenes story for the creation of “Others”—and since so often there’s seriousness in our back stories, I figured this goofy tidbit needed to be shared.

Shortly after I saw Rachel Kramer Bussel’s call for this anthology, I had a morning to write before a late afternoon chiropractic appointment. I was so inspired I planned to write all the way up until I had to leave—but I’d only gotten a few paragraphs in before the receptionist called and asked if I’d be able to come early due to some sort of emergency meeting.

I like being helpful, so of course I packed up and set out…but the story was burning a hole in my brain and I couldn’t let it sit for hours (my chiropractor is almost 45 minutes from me). I decided that this was the day to try dictation. Why not? If I could write erotica, I could certainly talk it to myself while driving, right?

Um, kind of.

So there I was, dictating away…but I have a theatre background, so I admit I was getting carried away with the lines. I was doing voices and everything, which got me a bit worked up over the whole thing. Still, I was doing okay. I focused on the road. I could manage this. I was cool. And then a few minutes later, right in the middle of a majorly heated part…

Some asshole swerved and almost hit me.

Naturally, I did what you do—I flipped the fuck out and screamed some obscenities he couldn’t hear through my closed windows. It took me a good minute to settle down (we’re talking two inches away going 70 on a freeway, guys), and then I attempted to continue my narration. I arrived at my chiropractor ten minutes later rather pink-cheeked—partially over the near-hit, but also over the story narration—and my doctor even said so.

“Good day today, Jade? You look…happy.”

“Oh, I am. Was just…uh…fleshing out a story, you know…”

Yeah. So when I left, I decided I’d had enough dictation for the day and opted to work the tale around in my head until I got home, where I sat down to listen to my recording and type it all up.

Now, narrating erotica is one thing. Listening to yourself dramatically narrating a hot story is an entirely different matter. Sure it was funny because I was over the top, on one hand, but on the other, I was getting a little hot under the collar (I’m an extremely aural person). I remember thinking, Jesus seriously? I just recorded this driving? This scene is getting really intense…wow, why, WHY did I act it out? Is it hot in here? Theatre people should not be allowed behind a mic with erotica like EVER. Ever!

And all of a sudden, I heard…

“Holy shit, asshole! Learn to drive! Oh my fucking god!”

Then, after a brief pause, the recording striving for an Erotica Oscar segued right back into more naughtiness.

I am sorry to say I deleted this recording (because why would I ever play that for anyone, ever?)…but I assure you I laughed pretty hard. I finished transcribing and then continued the story with a big fat amused smile on my face. And after that, I decided dictation was maybe not my thing—especially not while driving.

So there you have it! A little humor behind “Others,” my [not at all funny] story in The Big Book of Submission: 69 Kinky Tales.

Want to get your hands on this sexy book? You can pick it up right here.

Be sure to continue on the virtual tour for more back stories, reviews, excerpts, and more. The stops are listed right here.

Thanks for joining me on this stop! And, er…be safe on the road, folks…

XX,
Jade

 

Cover of Hungry for More edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Hungry for More: Excerpt of “The Sleeper’s Beauty”

Great news! Hungry for More: Romantic Fantasies for Women is out now on paperback through Amazon!

Hungry for More cover

I am quite excited about this anthology, one of the first from Cleis Press’s new Tempted Romance line. And as our fabulous editor, Rachel Kramer Bussel, says: “I don’t think the cover accurately conveys just how perfectly daring and wondrously taboo these stories are.” The line-up is exquisite, and the stories are definitely going to break some boundaries…which means you can bet it’s going to be a hot one!

So today, I’ve got two goodies to share with you. First, Rachel Kramer Bussel is running a killer opportunity to win if you prefer the Kindle edition, which is scheduled to release August 12th—if you pre-order it, you could win a $100 Amazon gift card! Wow! Details about this easy contest can be found on the book’s Tumblr page right here.

The second goodie is in celebration of the paperback edition being out and available right now on Amazon. That is…it’s time for an excerpt of my story, “The Sleeper’s Beauty”!

“The Sleeper’s Beauty” is about a woman who’s never fully understood why her friends are so darn excited over anal sex when she’s had some less-than-stellar experiences—but she wants to more than anything. And one night, her curiosity piqued, she finds herself in just the right circumstances…

Excerpt of “The Sleeper’s Beauty”:

Tonight, Carrie decided, things were going to be different. She was determined to make it happen. She couldn’t take one more Friends episode thinking about the hard slide of his dick all the way up inside her until she cried like the girls said she would, and she’d be damned if a fear of a little ass play was going to keep her from knowing all the pleasures she could have.

Knowing Andrew would catch onto her eager glances and deter her yet again, Carrie made him his favorite meal—a pot roast slow-cooked in his preferred beer and sided by a lump of mashed potatoes and two glasses of wine. He’d devoured the dish with that twinkle in his eye that managed to say “You’re wonderful” and “I love you” all at once. After dinner, she walked him to the bed and stripped off her clothes, running her hands all over herself in the most provocative ways she could think of until he chuckled and pulled her down on top of him.

“What is with you, lately?” he said. He wrapped his hands around to cup her ass, then tugged her against the bulge in his boxer briefs. “I mean, seriously. You’re talking anal and attempting strip teases. Settle down, Carrie.”

She sighed, helping his motion with a long grind that made him groan. “I’m trying something new here. I’m adding spice! Is it really that bad?”

“God, no. But you don’t have to do these things you don’t want to do.” Andrew took her hands between his and lifted them to his lips so he could kiss her fingertips. Then he shifted his hips up and rubbed against her. “I love having sex with you as is. And I’m tired, hon. Let’s just do it normal.”

Carrie snatched back her hands. “I want to try something new! What kind of man complains about getting what he’s been asking for? Suck it up and enjoy it already!”

With that she scooted low on his legs, running her kisses like she usually did all over his belly and chest. Andrew clicked his tongue, the belittling sound urging her on, and Carrie grumbled before yanking off his underwear. She admired his cock at full alert, then wrapped her mouth around his crown.

“Oh, babe,” he uttered. “That’s perfect. Just perfect.”

Carrie worked his shaft, running her tongue along the base as she knew he liked, then teasing his balls with both of her hands. This was only a precursor in her mind, because she’d already grown wet at the thought of what was to come.

And dammit, she was ready.

Carrie licked and sucked her husband, running her mouth along his length while sneaking one hand back to touch herself. He was too preoccupied to notice, and when she slid her finger inside her slick opening, images of him filling her special, secret hole crept through her head…

***

Please be sure to order your copy of Hungry for More at any of the locations below…the paperback is available now on Amazon, and everywhere else (with the Kindle version) on August 12th. And don’t forget your chance to win through Rachel Kramer Bussel if you prefer the Kindle version!

In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed the sneak peek!

XX,
Jade

ORDER YOUR COPY AT:

AMAZON        BARNES AND NOBLE        AMAZON CANADA       

 AMAZON UK        THE BOOK DEPOSITORY        BOOKS-A-MILLION 

INDIEBOUND        CLEIS PRESS        POWELL’S

Black and White Art Photo of Woman's Hips

Awake the Nymph — A Poem at Vanillerotica!

Happy Monday!

Black and White Art Photo of Woman's Hips

I’ve got fun news today, everyone! A while back, I entered the Talent Drips Erotic Poetry contest over at Vanillerotica—and was tickled to learn last night that my poem was selected! I’m so excited! Thank you to the editors at Vanillerotica Literary EZine!

So, if you’re of the poetry mind and would like to check it out, please hop on over to Vanillerotica to read my poem, “Awake the Nymph.” You can find it in the April section.

I hope you enjoy it!

XX,
Jade

Cover of Just for Him edited by Alison Tyler

His and Hers…and Almost Yours!

Okay guys, you may have noticed I’ve been banging on and on about Alison Tyler over here lately. First, our Pillow Talk group reviewed her delicious novelette, Those Boys. Then, I excitedly hosted a stop on her Those Boys tour. And next week, I’ll be reviewing a couple of her simply incredible books. So, just to clear up any confusion, this is all happening because

I’m a diehard Alison Tyler fan.

That’s why today’s news is so fantastic. I’ve been waiting to tell you this for what seems like a lifetime, but it really hasn’t been all that long. It’s just been that exhilarating that keeping my lips sealed has been intense!

So…here it is: I’m delighted to announce that I have a story in both of Alison Tyler’s hot upcoming anthologies, Just for Him and Just for Her! Hurray!

To celebrate, how about a double cover reveal? Here’s the cover for Just for Him, which includes my story “73A”:

Just for Him Cover

And here’s the cover for Just for Her, in which you’ll find “The Other Prom”:

Just For Her Cover

Ooooooh! Sexy new covers!

While I’m brimming with squeals (seriously, be thankful you’re there and not here), I have to give you a little back story on both of these. See, I’d written a few things. Rachel Kramer Bussel had already popped my cherry with The Big Book of Orgasms and that was like 80 times the thrill of the double corkscrew on the Demon rollercoaster at Great America, but now I was really fucking excited to be doing this erotica writing thing, for real. And all the while, I kept stalking Alison Tyler’s site. She had some crazy good stuff out and I’d basically worshipped her since I read “It’s Not the Weather” in another gorgeous Rachel Kramer Bussel anthology, Bedding Down. So I just kept thinking, I must get into an Alison Tyler anthology.

It was kind of like eyeing a pair of super tall strappy stiletto heels knowing that one day, you must have those shoes, and when you do, they’re going to feel SO good. Of course, you’re eyeing the shoes having no idea if you can even stand in them, but dammit, you’re going to try.

So one day, I notice that Alison Tyler has a call for not one, but two second person anthologies—one aimed at him, and another aimed at her. She’d done something similar before with Thomas Roche and it was sexy, so I was intrigued. Plus, I love second person. But the call was over in…

*Record screech.* (That’s literally what happened in my head.)

One week! She’d actually extended the deadline for a week, and by the time I saw it, there were only six days left.

Still, I had to write something for the Just for Him call. I had to!

I couldn’t start writing for two days because my schedule was nuts, but on that second day, this random idea clanked me in the head like a 2’ x 4’. I barely made it through my work day before I got home and went for it, because this is the line I had stuck in my head:

You’re working on my fence right now, and all I can think about is sucking your cock.

Naturally, from that, “73A” was born!

The next day, I was all set to send “73A” off and call it done…but then, randomly, some other 2’ x 4’ came flying at my head, and I knew I had to write another piece for Just for Her. (If we’re running with the shoe analogy, this is where I’d say, “Why buy one pair when you can buy two?”) By the end of the day, I had “The Other Prom”…and lo and behold, Ms. Tyler ended up saying yes to both. Wow! On top of that, it needs to be stated that she wrote me such sweet acceptance notes, I drove my friends nuts with my giddiness. (I know, crazy, right? Me?! Excitable?)

Anyway, that’s my back story for “73A” and “The Other Prom.” I’m thrilled to be included in both Alison Tyler anthologies, which are set to release in early 2015. I’m going to save excerpts for later, but in the meantime, you can pre-order Just for Him and Just for Her right now on Amazon. I expect they’re going to be really damn good!

As for me, I’m off to go dance around again.

I might even do it in a pair of strappy stilettos.

XX,
Jade