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Lady M: In Search Of

            “Sasha Grant embarks on a journey of sexual freedom in search of her sexual utopia after her marriage fails.  She discovers that sex is far more than missionary style; she learns that sex is about creativity and imagination. Her journey takes her to places she could never imagine.  Sasha not only finds herself through this journey, she finds true love where she never expected.” 

     “Sasha, what do you want to do, now? How would you like me to proceed?”

     “Just—just be here, Phil.” She wiped the tears away and poured herself another glass of wine. “I’m sick of crying over him. I’ve lost so much time...being good. Being patient. It hurts so bad right now...please, please. I need you to help me deal with this...pain.” Sasha’s body trembled as she looked into his eyes, daring him to respond in the way she wanted him to.

     He took her hand, sat down and pulled her directly in front of him, between his open legs. She leaned up against the kitchen table for support, her heart beating faster, louder and harder. Phil rubbed her arms to help her stop trembling.

     He took Sasha’s hand and sat her on his lap. She placed her hand on his hard, bulging, penis. Moving her hand up and down the outline in his pants, she had decided to give in to temptation and really thank Phil for all his time and effort. 

     “Are you sure this is really what you want?” he said softly to her. She nodded, nuzzling her head in his neck, refusing to speak.

     “Then stand up.”  Sasha slowly rose to her feet, standing like a scolded child waiting for her punishment.  He removed her shorts, exposing her sheer black panties and with one finger he pushed them down to the floor.

     He took his index finger, put it in Sasha’s mouth, and commanded her to suck it and lick it until it became wet. Then, he removed his finger from her mouth and placed it gently into her throbbing wetness.

     Sasha gasped, her knees almost buckling from the sensation.

     “Shhh, Sasha. Relax...” he whispered.

     Sasha watched Phil masturbate while simultaneously fingering her. They moaned out together, sometimes in unison as she leaned her body against the table, letting him invade it. She watched his face as he came, releasing white, sticky fluid from his penis. Next, he removed his finger from her private treasure and made her lick her cum off of his fingers.

     As quietly and gently as he began, he reached down to the floor, grabbed her panties and placed them back onto her slender form. He cleaned up and zipped his pants. Then, he grabbed Sasha by the waist and walked her to the door.

     “Sasha, your husband Layton Grant is a fucking fool. I hope he gets what is coming to him.” Those were the final words he spoke before he kissed her gently on the lips and headed out her door.

***

Lady M spurred her love for poetry into her first erotic offering in "Untapped". You can learn more about her at: www.myspace.com/ladympoetry

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Untapped: A Collection of Erotic Firsts

Carla P. Morales: ‘Habibi’

     “My story is a love story.  Two people who cannot be together, but whose love is a constant burning flame within, but manage to find their one and only chance to finally touch.  I chose to play this out between an Arabic man and an African American woman because it reaches back into my own heritage.  The ancient Middle Eastern stories of love and passion have always drawn me in.  It could be because those ancient flames burn within me and I feel most comfortable writing about love from an ancient Arabic perspective.  Last, but not least, I love exploring and playing with characters who live outside the mundane world; who live each moment of their lives in full tilt.”

     The guttural buzz of Pamela Haddington’s alarm clock snatched her out of her sweet oblivion.  Her hands crawled frantically, like a spider, over the clock, searching for the off button.  When her fingers found the familiar protrusion, she slammed it down with her palm.

     Rolling over, onto her back, and staring up at the ceiling, Pamela was already overwhelmed, and dreaded the prospect of another day of psychological warfare with her slightly conniving, and temperamental boss, Ari Perlstein. She worked five days a week, eight-thirty in the morning to four-thirty in the afternoon, at Philadelphia Public Adjusters, where she was the Operations Manager. Her only indulgence during her day was her trek over to the Mediterranean Paradise Restaurant, where Nadir waited for her daily.

     Nadir, the owner of Mediterranean Paradise Restaurant, and the first man, in two years, who made Pamela want to spread her legs, wide, at the very sight of him, was a powerfully built Arabic man, who had a swagger that was damn near “Hood”.

     Originally, he was from Jerusalem – a citizen of Israel actually – but, ethnically, he was a Palestinian, so that made him a modern day Philistine.  His complexion was hued with copper, his depthless, intense dark eyes were framed by lush, decadent eye lashes, and it was all topped off by his curvy, sensuous lips.  His brooding manner made him appear to be always in deep thought, simmering on something important.

     If only Nadir were with her right now, his broad chest firmly pressing down on top of her breasts, as she welcomes the weight of his nude body.  His lips touch hers, kissing her lightly; his warm tongue coaxing hers from its hiding place with every noisy smack of their lips.  He lifts his head and locks eyes with her, his wild black curls, tumbling, around his bronze face. She caresses his neatly groomed beard, inching her fingers upward, towards his hairline, then, plunging all of her fingers into the silken mass of hair on his head.  She grabs fistfuls of locks, pulling him back down, towards her lips, and kisses him with an abandon of a ravenous animal.

     Nadir, ignoring the brick hard flesh that gently bats against Pamela’s inner thigh, abruptly pulls away from her, smiling; not a benevolent smile, but the smile of a hunter who has finally entrapped his prey.  He presses his lips against her neck, sending sensuous chills down her spine, and an involuntary spasm at the mouth of her pussy. His velvety lips, walking the landscape of her body, find the chocolate brown towers of her nipples.  He unleashes his tongue, firmly licking each nipple, alternately, making them so hard that a delicious pain forces Pamela to moan his name, “Nadir!”

     Her breathy sigh of his name causes him to look up.  “What do you want of me?” he asks, his heavy accent making him sound like a jin, or genie, ready to grant her wish.

     “You already know,” she says.

     “Tell me.”

     Pamela wraps her fingers around his curls again, gently pushing him further down, until the lips of his mouth meet, and kiss, the lips of her aching pussy. He slides his large hands underneath her buttocks, and lifts her slightly, causing her thighs to open before him, revealing all of her hidden treasure. 

     His full mouth sucks on her protruding clit, gently at first, causing more blood to rush to her groin and engorge her pussy until it sits in front of her Arabian knight like a plump pastry.  An unexpected wave of indescribable warmth spreads from deep within her womb and flows toward Nadir’s beckoning mouth. She digs her hands into his hair, pulling his head deeper into her crotch, as she undulates harder, meeting his mouth eagerly.

     “Ah, Nadir…just like that.”  She sighs.

     He licks and sucks, like a starved glutton, pushing his tongue deep into her slippery canal, finally pushing her over the edge, inciting the ring of muscles, surrounding his snake-like tongue, to clamp down hard, over and over again, until there were no more contractions left.  There was only quiet, the calm after a storm…

     Pamela’s eyes slowly fluttered open.  She stared at the ceiling again, feeling more relaxed, and ready to tackle the day’s bullshit.  She removed her fingers from her soaked clit and thought of what it would be like to jump in the shower  with Nadir, after a good morning fuck.

     She truly envied his wife.

     Carla P.  Morales, a Philadelphia native, first began to take her writing seriously in 1988, a time of great struggle and hardship, when she was raising four small children on practically nothing.  During this time, she became a student at the Bushfire Theater of Performing Arts Writers Workshop, where she met her mentor, P.J. Gibson, a world renowned playwright who has won awards around the world, and has written for television shows, such as, The Cosby Show, and Women of Brewster Place. 

     Carla's latest work is the full length play, El Bandido.  It is the journey of a prodigal son who has lost his way in the turbulent and exiting world of exotic dancing.  El Bandido's most recent production was at Community College of Philadelphia in October of 2009.  This is her first anthology and she is the Founder/CEO of Landmark Productions, LLC.

www.landmarkproductionsllc.com

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Untapped: A Collection of Erotic Firsts

Miss Tiger: Imprisoned Passion

       “I contributed to the UNTAPPED anthology because although I've written what some call "erotic" poetry, it was never to this caliber. I wanted to challenge myself and take a huge step out of my comfort zone and do something that I'm not 100% comfortable doing. It was a great wonderful challenge and I thank NIP for allowing me the opportunity to grow.

"Imagine for a minute that the love of your life was sent away for being in the right place, at the wrong time. Though you’ve been doing your best to be the faithful girlfriend, your “rabbit” is getting old quick. Finally, the day arrives when you’ll be face to face with your one true love but, what do you do now? What can you do to make his homecoming over the top, knock his socks off, and show him how much you love and miss him wonderful? Dominique is faced with these vary decisions, as the day draws closer to her man Tyson being released from prison. She decides she is going to give him the best ‘welcome home’ gift she can think of.”

     Baby girl has really out done herself. I never saw anything like this coming. I wonder where Keisha is, but shit, really I don’t care. I just want to get my hands on Dominique.

     What’s up with the mask on her face and the whip she’s holding, though? I know she better not try no S&M shit with me!

      "DAMN!” I say, licking my lips.

     She stands with her hands on her hip, her luscious lips curled into a smile. She snaps the whip and the crackle sound ripples through the hallway, causing me to jump. I look in her direction and cock my head to the side, hoping she gets a clue that she’s taking this shit a bit too far.

     "I don't know what the fuck you are about to do with that, but…"

     She interrupts me, snapping the whip again, motioning for me to follow her.         

     Instead, I stand my ground. Does she think I’m stupid?

     "Maybe I should just leave?" she says quietly, as she begins to walk by me.

     “Hold up!  I ain't say all that Nique. Shit, calm down," I grab her by the arm, and kiss her intensely.

     Kissing my baby excites me and I grab those D’s I’ve been masturbating to for the last three years...

     I feel her pull away from my lips, and as I open my eyes, she slaps my face! She snatches her arm out of my hand as my face begins to sting. Before I can react she takes a step back from me, waving her index finger back and forth, not saying a word.

     “What da?" I yell and instinctively grab her arms, this time, spinning her around and pushing her hard up against a nearby wall. "Like I was sayin’, I don't know what da fuck don’ got into you, but I know, you know, you got da wrong one, slapping me and shit."

     She leans in, gently kissing my cheek. I make the mistake of letting my guard down and release my grip on her arm. Soon as I did, she grabs me by my arms and spins me around.

     Now I’m kissing the damn wall!

     I can hear her inhale deep, as she runs her nose across the back of my neck. She slides the end of the whip between my legs, tickling my balls as she presses her body against me. I feel her lick the side of my neck in one long stroke, as if she were a tiger tasting her latest kill.

     “OUCH!" I cry out.

     Where did my soft spoken Dominique go? And who is this woman in her place?  She’s no longer the shy and quiet girl I left behind three years ago, she is Dominique the Dominatrix, and I guess she was making me pay for being a very naughty boy! Weird thing is, this shit is actually turning me on!

     “How long has it been since a woman has touched you?” she whispers, grabbing my left shoulder and turning me around to face her. She uses the whip to lift my chin and kisses me gently, gripping the hardened bulge in my jeans with her free hand.

     “Hmm," she moans, smiling up at me.

     “Yo, I’m all for you letting Mr. Biggs loose and all, but if you plannin’ on doing some mo’ foul shit, you can hang that up. I’m don’ wit this S&M bull!”

      Again my face is reddened by her hand. This time the force of her strike turns me sideways. When I straighten up, she is looking at me all hard. Seems she’s really getting into this role-play thing and all the whispering she’s doing has me buggin’ out. I know if she hits me one more time though, I’m takin’ that damn whip!

    She licks her lips slowly and takes a step back from me. Even in this dim light I’m sure she can see my face is red hot. I’m not sure if I want to strangle, or fuck the shit out of her.

     She takes a few steps backwards into middle of the room, pulling me to her with her sexy gaze.

     "Ain’t no need to slap me, girl," I tell her, pulling her to me. I press my lips to hers while running my fingers through her long curly hair. I know my kisses make her weak. So she wants to be the boss, huh? Well, it won’t be that easy...

     I slide my fingers down her arm, and past her waist side to her exposed thigh. I make my way to the V below her navel, and slid my fingers over her clit through the thin sheer material of her panties.

     "Tyson..." she whispers. Her breathing becomes heavy as she leans into me. I continue to rub on her clit, feeling her start to become moist as her body trembles under my touch. Her hips start to move slightly to the stroking I’m giving her.

     Yeah, I got you now baby...

***

     Kiexiza “Miss Tiger” Rodriquez grew up the child no one understood. The eldest of ten children between her mother and father, she found herself craving love and attention that never came. So instead she turned inward and created a world where love was all around her.

     Professionally, she spent over ten years in the entertainment industry working for different companies assisting with marketing & promotions, A&R, venue planning, street team promotions, and administrative work in the New England area. A chance meeting with an old friend inspired her to join DiamondStar Entertainment where she currently heads their promotions & advertising department.

      

     Finally accepting that is was her destiny to write, and share her personal story of survival with the world, Kiexiza’s goal is to create more than just a fictional story or her pain. Her novels aspire to entertain and provide life lessons mixed into the characters journey. Kie feels she has endured what she has, to help someone else going through and shares her story when she can. No longer the ashamed victim, she has allowed her inner Tigress to roar out from within. She is currently in the process of publishing her 5-part book series entitled “BEAUTIFUL”. The first novel is available for purchase now.

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Untapped: A Collection of Erotic Firsts

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.

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Untapped: A Collection of Erotic Firsts

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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