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PHE Ink’s L.M. Blakely: Anacia’s Sexcapade:

   “My contributing work, Anacia’s Sexcapade comes from a story called Suite 210, which is a sensual place where adults can explore their fantasies in a unique and exciting upscale intimate lounge. Anacia’s arranges to quench her thirst for sex when she sets her eyes on a beautiful, innocent woman named Mocha…”

     “Aye papi,” I cried out while Sean gripped me from behind as I watched a younger couple beside us having wild and kinky sex in the double room at Suite 210.

   Suite 210 was a sensual place where adults could explore their fantasies. An upscale swingers club where inhibitions are left at the door.

   I watched the young woman’s facial expression when her boyfriend grabbed her throat and forced himself in and out of her with such wild intensity. Her brows met in the middle of her forehead as the moans poured from her succulent lips.

   As I listened to the strangers next to me, my mind slipped away and I thought about her. The woman I met here at Suite 210 a few weeks back…Mocha.

   Before Mocha walked in the room that night, I’d already selected my playmate for the evening. When I escorted her inside of the room, she admired the deep red walls and matching kissed drapes. The two red and black matching couches were adjacent to each other with a small L-shaped glass table sitting in between them. The king sized bed was pushed a few feet away from the couches giving the room a relaxed atmosphere. I planned to work every part of her body out on every piece of furniture in the room.

   I slowly traced my finger against the woman’s shoulder releasing her spaghetti strapped dress until her breasts were exposed. I wrapped my lips around her nipples and slowly escorted her onto the bed. Once I undressed her down to her thongs and heels, Sean walked in with the most beautiful seductress, Mocha and immediately she seized my attention. 

   “Hey ladies, this is Mocha,” he said.

   I tried my best to return my focus on my playmate, but I found my eyes lingering towards Mocha as she sat beside Sean on the couch. I tried to continue planting kisses on my current dime piece, but I found myself glancing at Mocha’s stilettos, then towards her legs as she crossed them. She captured my sexual energy and I was at a pause, paying the woman in front of me no attention at all. I had to have her, so when I reached for Sean, I glanced at her and quizzed.

   “Care to join us?”

   “I’m not sure, this isn’t what I was expecting,” Mocha paused when she looked at all the group of half-naked and horny couples on the bed, “I thought Sean and I were going to be alone. I’m not into the girl-on-girl thing.”

   “Well, you are more than welcome to join in if you want...” I smiled and held her gaze before relinquishing.

   After she declined the invite, I couldn’t stop myself from looking at her and I noticed the way she watched me as my lips covered the mushroomed head of Sean’s penis. She looked away bashfully as if she had never seen an act performed with such perfection. The thought of me touching her sent my mind into a frenzy and I took it out on Sean with my mouth.

   By the way she nervously looked at us; I knew she was unfamiliar with the scene. I had to admit, when she finally accepted Sean’s invite to the bed, I was slightly jealous that I had to sit on the sideline while Sean savored her sweet taste. Before we parted ways to go back to our everyday lives, I slipped her my number with an invite to meet up for drinks. I never invited anyone from the club into my personal life, but something about this woman had me ready to break all the rules. She was apprehensive to take my card at first, but I promised to be on my best behavior before she hesitantly accepted it.

   From the moment I saw her, she had become a welcome intrusion into my thoughts—even as I am fucked so perfectly by my man, Sean.

   As the couple next door started to moan louder, I focused on them just as I reached my climax seconds before Sean. I laid there on his chest and watched them finish their session before grabbing my towel.

   I was never into voyeurism before Suite 210, but I was still curious about things I’d never seen and watching people fuck in front of me was becoming my new fetish.

***

L.M. Blakely is a native of Albany, Georgia – a “military brat” who has traveled and resided in the Philippines, California, Oklahoma, Okinawa, Japan, New Mexico and Florida. She currently lives in Atlanta, GA and has recently completed her Bachelors in Network Management. She found inspiration to write by journaling, playing different instruments, and composing ballads. Music was her first love and she had aspirations of becoming a songwriter. Her love for writing and her vivid imagination blossomed until her passion evolved into her earning the title of “Author.”

You can find out more about her at: www.facebook.com/lmblakely

Buy Untapped: http://www.naughtyinkpress.com/#!nis-press

Keith Kareem Williams: Bring Me Back:

  "Bring Me Back" is actually just the second erotic short story I've ever written. I wanted to challenge myself and explore a different genre because I'm always pushing myself to explore different styles of writing. I also wanted to explore the sexual attraction between an older woman and a much younger man. The title serves a double meaning in the story as the readers will soon find out. Since I've finished it, it feels like my mind is stuck on nasty.”

     …It had been far too long since she’d felt like a young woman. She’d grown far too accustomed to having old men gawk and grope at her. It had been far too long since she’d been this close to a man she was attracted to. She openly admitted to herself for the first time that she was hungry for him. She studied the bullet wounds on his body as she bathed him. The scars told the story of his near-death experience. It was nothing short of a miracle that he had survived.

     Magda put the sponge down and used her fingers to touch the where places where Gia had blown holes in him. He had healed nicely. As she ran her wet fingers down his stomach, her eyes became fixed between his legs as she realized that he was once again well in other areas. The longer she kept her hands on him was the larger his erection grew. She could feel herself become damp in her most feminine place as she watched it throb as it swelled. Rome’s eyes were still closed but she wondered if he could sense how she stared at it hungrily. It was like watching a tree grow unnaturally fast, right in front of her eyes. It had been too long since she’d tasted a man or felt one deep inside her. Her body ached for that feeling again and before she could stop herself, she reached out and grabbed him by the shaft. It had been too long since she’d done something bold and impulsive.

     Rome gasped as he felt Magda grip him firmly. Her touch could not have been mistaken for being innocent or inadvertent. She wrapped her delicate fingers around him with purpose. He opened his eyes wide, almost believing he had fallen asleep. Their eyes met for an awkward moment and he expected her to let go. She did not. Instead, she began to stroke it slowly as she looked into his face, yearning for his approval to do more. He raised his hand slowly, nervously. He wanted to hold her head and guide her lips to his tip. The look in her eyes said that that was exactly what she was longing for him to do. The danger of being discovered caused her heart to pound in her chest. Her chest heaved as she looked over her shoulder to make sure that the room door was still closed. Rome put his fingers in her thick, black hair but then he hesitated. He pulled his hand away and turned away from her. Magda was disappointed and embarrassed. She let go of him and felt like a silly, horny, old woman.

***

Keith Kareem Williams was born & raised in the gritty city of Brooklyn, New York. Forged in those fires he’s become a soldier determined to bring his style of fiction to the forefront of the world of literature. He’s been labeled as a “Beast with a Pen” by his peers & contemporaries. His unique vision of the world has earned him the title of “Reem the Gully God” on social networking sites where he continues to inspire, captivate & entertain his readers daily. His published works include Water flows under doors, Crossroads: An Anthology, Open Spaces, and Sometimes Brooklyn, Mostly Mars.

Read more about him on his blog at:   http://thegullygodchronicles.blogspot.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/ReemtheGullyGod

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/keithkareemwilliams

“I write constantly and I already have the titles & plots lined up for my next 26 novels. This is what I do and I’m just trying to let the rest of the world know this. My ambition is to become legendary in the game. I believe that a GOOD writer pulls you into their story. A GREAT writer makes the world around you fall away as you read. The LEGENDARY writers tell stories that become a part of you and linger long after you’ve read the last line of the last chapter.

It was once said that "The pen is mightier than the sword". I say to my fellow AUTHORS: Let's advance our craft until it's mightier than guns, grenades, bullets & nuclear bombs. If not, then put your pen down and fall back. Those of us who are serious about this will run you over as if we were riding in tanks.”

Official Release 12/26/11

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Jusme Felicia: Business Affairs- Color Bind

"Well, the reality of sex is that you should always make sure that you are taken care of… Sex is a part of everyday life and what’s ‘normal’ or acceptable is different to everyone. Hell, who’s normal? The bottom line is this: You can’t help who you love and sex is fun so get excited, get it done & have fun !!  All of the rest will fall into place.”

     Before I could turn around to see where my loyal accountant Mark was, he stepped up behind me and grabbed my waist.

    “Baby, it has been killing me to watch you during that meeting and not be able to kiss those beautiful, sexy lips.” He wrapped his arms tighter around my waist, turned me to him, and proceeded to kiss my lips with an urgency that made me want to beg him to take me on the table. But I had to keep my composure.

    “Sharae, how long do we have to keep up this façade? I want to make love to you. Hell, I need to make love to you. It’s been four months and we can’t do anything other than kiss and fool around. I feel that fire when I touch you, when I hold you and when I kiss your lips...and I know you feel it, too.” Mark leaned in, parted my lips with his tongue and as our tongues intertwined, this time I felt my pussy quiver like it never had before.

     “Baby, just let go.” he pleaded. “I want to let everyone know that I love you. That I want you.” Mark proceeds to kiss my neck as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer. His hands slide up my skirt as he lifts me up and places me onto the conference table. He stood in between my legs while I was spread eagle and began to rub my button through my panties. Just as I felt myself about to explode, I begged him to stop.

     “Baby, it’s not time yet, please stop. I’m not ready.”

     “Sharae, damn! I need you—and you need me. Why are you so worried about what everybody else thinks?”

     “It’s not that Mark. It’s—” I felt myself about to cry.

    “It’s what, Sharae?”

***

Jusme Felicia is a San Antonio native who began writing erotica by accident; just to have fun and found her niche a couple years ago. As a writer in her early 40’s, she is employed in the Social Services field and has attended college at the University of Phoenix. She began writing at the young age of 11 by journaling. Jusme was first published in 2010, in Delphine Publication’s “Between the Sheets”. She is also featured in “Surviving Lives through Literature: Voices Behind the Tears.”

“When it’s all said and done…….no one is more important than JUSME!”

Find her at www.facebook.com/author.jusme

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Julia Press Simmons: All Tied Up

  " I saw NIP’s call for submission to an erotic anthology in Karen E Quinones Millers facebook group. I signed up for two reasons one; I’ve never written pure erotica and I liked the original concept. I wanted to push myself, and believe me it was a push! As soon as I saw the word bondage in the topics that NIP suggested, bondage stood out and the story started forming in my head. I’ve had one helluva ride writing it. The support and feedback NIP offers its authors is amazing. I am excited about this project and overjoyed to be a part of something so special.”

Darnell Jackson made a living out of making lonely women moan. He was 6’2 inches and 230 lbs of pure chocolate sexual energy, and in his world sex was king—it paid the bills and past the time. For a nominal fee Mr. Jackson would make all of your fantasies a reality. He prided himself on never getting emotionally involved with any of his clients no matter how good they were in the sack. Sex was business and business was booming, until he met Audrey Williams, a 45 year-old school teacher from South Carolina.

Audrey Williams had never been with a gigolo before, in fact, she’d never done anything out of the ordinary in her life.  Audrey went to work and went home, day in and day out. She yearned for excitement but had no idea how to get it until she overheard two women talking about paying for sex on her way to work. Every freaky thing that Audrey ever dreamed of doing flashed through her head and her panties were soaked by the time she reached her train stop.

Audrey’s honest southern sweetness hid a hardcore kinky side that drove Darnell wild, and the simple statement, “I’d liked to be tied up,” led to an episode that neither one would forget.

     Audrey wasn’t a nosey person; she prided herself on keeping her nose in her own business. However, when she overheard the woman sitting behind her on the train say, “Chile his dick was as hard and as thick as one of the legs on my coffee table,” her ears perked up on their own, her back stiffened as she sat up in the seat, and her head tilted a tad bit towards the lady with the potty mouth. Audrey had not had anything close to sex in 4 years and her body responded to the words, hard, thick, and dick like there was one right in front of her. She bit her bottom lip and waited for the woman to continue.

     She was perfectly poised and ready to finish eavesdropping when the man sitting next to her started laughing into his cell phone. His voice was loud and his breath smelled like a sushi, onion, and ass cocktail. Audrey fantasized briefly about snatching the damn thing from him and tossing it out the door at the next stop. Thankfully, she didn’t have to take any drastic measures because the train went underground and ‘ass-breath’ powered his phone off and put it in his pocket. Audrey gave her full attention back to the conversation behind her.

     “Girl, the sex was so good I gave him a bonus.”

     “You didn’t. I can’t believe you would pay for sex.”

     “Baby believe it, I paid a pretty penny and would pay twice as much in a heartbeat, because I hadn’t had good dick in a month of Sundays and I’m tired of fucking all of these limp dick bastards.”

     “Okay, spill it. I want to know every nasty detail.”

     I do too, Audrey thought, fighting the urge to turn in her seat and actively join in on the conversation.

     “Well, first he gave me a rub down with warm oil, and he rubbed every part of me.”

     “Every part?”

     “Chile, I was trembling and moaning before he even had a chance to take his clothes off.”

     “Are you serious?”

     “Girl, his fingers were hard and soft and everywhere at the same time. He stuck his finger inside of me and stroked my g-spot until I was hollering out in Swahili. I hadn’t been touched like that in years.”

     I’ve never been touched like that, Audrey thought. Ever. She felt a moment of guilt for listening in on their conversation. Looking around at the other passengers, she realized that everyone was still in their own little worlds. They weren’t paying Audrey or the women behind her any attention at all. Thank goodness, Audrey thought. She sighed in relief. Her high yellow complexion always betrayed what she was feeling, and the talk was getting her hot. Her face was especially heating up, and she knew she was turning five different shades of red. She imagined how it would feel to have a complete stranger rub all over her naked body. Audrey smoothed her hair up into its bun, and adjusted her glasses just as the train stopped and a slew of new passengers boarded.

     The ladies lowered their voices, and Audrey had to strain to hear them. Unfastening the top three pearl buttons of her cardigan, she leaned her head against the headrest and pretended to doze off so she could hear a little better.

     “Girl, just when I thought I couldn’t take no more, he lifted me up and carried me to my bedroom. He put my ass on a pillow and powered that meat-log inside of me so fast and hard I thought people three blocks away could hear my screams. I had to have had about four orgasms. Girl, my legs felt like wet noodles. I gave him $100 tip.”

     “Now I know you were buggin’. I can’t believe you gave him 100 bucks over his fee.”

     “Bitch please! It was worth it and I would give it to him again in a heartbeat.”

     Audrey agreed with the woman. Whatever the price, a tip seemed to be in order for that kind of pleasure. Audrey pressed her thighs together, hoping she could suppress the aching need that emerged between her thighs. Her nipples strained against her bra, and her pussy pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She opened her eyes and exhaled slowly. Her mind was abuzz with sexual fantasies she did not know she possessed. Her panties were soaked by the time she’d reached her stop. She stood up and looked over her shoulder at the women who were talking and then quickly looked away. She walked off of the train into the cool morning air and was grateful for the slight chill. Heaven knew she needed it.

     Julia Press Simmons-- “I was born in the heart of North Philadelphia in the late seventies, and I've spun tales for as long as I can remember—big ol' fat tales from my imagination. I was twelve years old when I began to write them down. Four years later, a couple of months after the birth of my son, I recognized my gift for what is was. Deep in the bowels of postpartum depression I penned my first poem entitled “Suicide.” I poured all of my hurt into verse, and when I was done the pain was gone. Since then I’ve received awards for my poetry, and I’ve had plays staged in Tennessee and New York, but nothing can compare to the overwhelming joy of “Strawberry Mansion,” my very first novel. Words cannot express how grateful I am to everyone who has read it thus far, and for those who will read it in the future.

          My sophomore novel, Begonia Brown: Raised in the unforgiving streets of North Philadelphia, Begonia Brown is undoubtedly a product of her environment, young, ruthless, and criminally minded. In Violet: Strawberry Mansion 3, the third and final installment of the series, Violet Brown is about to get a crash course in the penalties of the drug trade. Busted attempting to cross state lines with five kilos of Columbia’s finest, she finds herself facing a twenty-four year prison sentence, pregnant and alone. Find out what happens to Violet when the bars close on one of the most vicious correctional facilities in the state, and Begonia and her girls rip the city up to set things right. I hope you enjoy my books as much as I enjoyed writing them!”

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Serene Waters: April’s Showers

       “I was always obsessed about the idea of being able to display the ability to watch and be watched as a means to attract attention.  People appreciating and acknowledging the beauty of freedom and letting your guard down without societies views of unusual sexual practices. Having a deep passion to go out and fulfill your dreams at some point in your life rather as younger adult or an older mother of four is an important integration of learning about yourself and never having regrets. To sexually stimulate a person without ever touching them is an exceptional feat and not something a person who is not in tune with their desires can accomplish successfully.

     I tried to indirectly step into the shoes of a woman who wants to be known more than somebody’s mother and having their own identity. In choosing my topic, I wanted to portray just that—a mother who was finally able to do what she always wanted to do. After fulfilling her promise of raising her children to be independent and strong and now finding the courage and strength to take care of herself.”

***

     Looking down the flight of stairs, I didn’t remember seeing an exit sign when I rushed through the door. As I went cautiously down the steps, I saw a guy standing at the bottom, off to the side of the stairwell. But when I reached the last step, he was nowhere in sight.

     There was a long hallway at the end of the stairs, with two sets of double doors. Two with red paint on the left and two with black on the right. I wondered what that was about. Reaching the end of the hall, I was hesitant, but still put my ear to the red double doors. I could hear sounds of the inside events coming through them. Soft music and laughter, maybe?

     I touched the handle wondering if I should open the door and take a peek inside. But the answer came soon enough as the double doors swung open from the inside and a woman startled to see me standing there, stepped back.

     “What are you doing out here?” she asked.

     “Um...well I think I’m lost.”

     Before she could say anything else, she turned and looked back nervously at the man who was walking up behind her.

     He looked me over twice before whispering in her ear. She tried to suppress her smile as she swatted at his hand that he had placed on the back of her neck. I stood there nervous as hell, watching them whisper and play around with each other. She giggled at his playful gesture and then pushed him back inside, shutting the door behind her.

     “Let me see it,” she stated as she looked me over.

     “See what?” I blurted back, wishing I had not sounded so clueless.

     “Damn. Here we go again,” she said obviously irritated at my answer. “Where is Dominick?” she looked past me and down the dimly lit hallway. “You can’t be here,” she said, lowering her voice.

     “Well, what is this place, V.I.P.? What’s going on in there?”

     “Are you playing with me? Is this a test?” She spun me around and lifted up the back of my shirt. What in the hell was she doing?

     I whirled back around, pushing her hands away.

     “You’ve gotta go,” she said, her tone impatient. “You're not supposed to be down here. If Dominick catches you, I’m in trouble. Okay?”

     “I’ll go only if you tell me what you were just looking for.”

     She looked me up and down, trying to read my face as she bit down on her bottom lip. I knew that she was hesitant but I was determined to get an answer. “Look, if I show you, you promise not to come back down here?”

     I nodded, but as I did, I saw the black doors swing open and a petite brunette with only the bottom half her dress still attached came running out, laughing.

     “Hey Yvette, I hope you're not looking for Dominick ‘cuz he was uh—a little tied up.” She bounced by us, her perky, perfect breasts completely exposed.

     Right behind her was this sexy-ass light skinned brother, who adjusted his pants zipper as he came into view.

     Damn. What had I just stumbled onto?

    “Hey Yvette, who’s this?” he asked, nodding his head in my direction.

    “She’s with me, and she’s getting ready to leave.”  Yvette turned to me as her eyes pleaded for me to confirm her story.

     “Yeah, I'm leaving. I just came by to pick something up from um...Yvette. Right.” I responded. This had quickly become the highlight of my night.

     Dominick nodded his head as he took his place by the bottom of the step with his flashlight in hand, massaging his erection back into hiding. Yvette took my hand and walked me back to the top of the stairwell.

     “Well?” I reminded her of our agreement.

     “You sure have a lot of nerve.” She snorted and laughed aloud.

     She lifted up the back of her shirt to display a Lotus flower on the right side of her lower back, just above her ass cheek.

     “Happy now?” She shut the door in my face and left me standing there, wondering what the hell they were hiding from the rest of the world down there.

Serene Waters only imagined that her writing was going to go as far as the various submissions to newspaper articles in which she contributed. It truly was not until after completing her College degree, that she again felt the desire to express her emotions with the stroke of a pen. Working as a Social Worker, she developed and inspires positive attitudes in facing hardships and obstacles, which has brought out the best in her writing. Serene Waters is currently residing in Philadelphia, PA with her loving husband and two daughters actively working on her next obstacle: Book #2.

Find Serene Waters on Facebook.

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