And a Good Book: Cheerleaders in Heat
Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
Ha!! When I was younger and single, they were always red silk sheets, like most of my underwear. It is a mindset. I was independent, self-reliant and did whatever I wanted whenever I wanted —pretty much like the men I worked with at the time. I was Midwest Regional Director of the Real Estate and Construction Division with IBM. I worked hard, travelled frequently and had to check hotel menus often enough to find out what city I was in! There was always a bar and a restaurant downstairs and the temptation the anonymity offered was often too much for me to deny. Anyway, I valued the sanctuary of my home and my own bed along with the indulgence of silk sheets. I know! You thought it was the other way around and that I did all my catting on my silk sheets…hahaha! Well, sometimes I was indiscriminate and I did. But, my silk sheets were like my little self-indulgence, like Belgium Chocolate, Irish butter and Chevas Brothers Lochan Ora. Some things were just for me. Anymore, after thirty years of marriage, I am afraid we would find ourselves slipped to the floor like molten lava if we slept on silk sheets.
But, tonight, with the moonlight and you? Definitely silk!
What are you wearing?
Lee!! I have my hair pulled into a ponytail and a red ribbon. I am in a spaghetti strapped black summer shift (it is nearing 90 here in SWFL on this Saturday morning with the sun reflecting off of the pool) and I’m barefoot. My face is scrubbed with a light red lip gloss and I am not wearing any undies, not even a thong! There are blessings to an empty nest! And the little summer shift will look great, and quickly, in a little puddle on the floor!
What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?
Oh, hot spiked tea and cold chocolate. Belgium chocolate melts so evenly and deliciously in bed. It is never far from my nightstand. Some thing’s never change. Even though there are no more silk sheets on a regular basis, there is always Belgium chocolate and Cristal Champagne, the Wine of Tsars and Stars, both of which I am or can be, in bed.
If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?
You are a nosey Nellie!! And there are two: one may have a fun pack and the other just the remote and not to vaginal vibrating balls! Let’s just go for the fun pack and hang the suspense! As you would expect, there are extension cords and spare batteries (just in case), a few favorite adult toys, the real stash is in the dresser (!) and a .38 snub-nosed revolver and no it is not a “Midnight Special”. There are creams and ointments and my collections of silk and satin scarves, a throwback from my traveling days.
Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?
I sleep on my back, open to the night, my dreams and inspiration from any source. In Florida, I sleep in light shorty lingerie without blankets, oft times without the nightie, like tonight. In the north, I curl up it seems near the foot of the bed wrapped in the warming comfort of velour blankets. My blood has gotten thinner down here and I have a low tolerance for freezing temperatures anymore. But, either climate is certainly more conductive to sex!
Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?
Yes, you can, and please do. But you will pay for the convenience, in a big way and perhaps more than once! Clearly, we have to get your blood warmed up and moving around and around—even back and forth with energy and enthusiasm! Although, a cold toe-fuck (which happens in this book!) is nother fine way to warm up your pinkies.
What are we reading?
Let’s curl up together (after all, we have been friends for a long time!), read, and maybe roll-play some saucy little highlights from one of my latest releases, Cheerleaders in Heat, written with my dear friend, Chrissy Laurence. Want to see the trailer first, kinda set the rhythm? Here peek: Cheerleaders in Heat
((Here’s the embedded code from YouTube: ))
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NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART
Miami Rattlers Cheerleader Cherie Redd is exquisitely beautiful, athletic, and very, very lonely. Romance: a puzzling phenomenon she figured had something to do with guys' fear of rejection or lack of self-confidence because they just didn't have what it takes to win someone like Cherie.
Titillatingly sexy and breathtakingly beautiful, Cherie and her other cheerleading friends often spent their lonely Saturday nights lamenting their beauty and available just for the asking. The prettiest single women around: lonely, loveless and forlorn.
Frustrated by too many quiet nights at home or with other cheerleaders, Cherie was oh-so-eager for romance and a man to seduce her lavishly. She wanted to feel what a real orgasm in the arms of an adoring man was like once again. So, she tucked her vibrator away and took to the Internet. Cherie had no clue how rapidly the seduction would begin or where her life would careen as a result. Painfully naive and overwhelmed by admirers before her spinning head cleared, Cherie was learning things her momma never even knew enough to warn her about.
Follow Cherie and her friends as their sexual scoreboards light up brighter than in any stadium
as their downward spiral introduces them to hot ménage sex, perversion and degradation.
as their downward spiral introduces them to hot ménage sex, perversion and degradation.
Or does it?
As the evening darkened into night, the lights of Miracle Mile slowly came on, one-by-one, to welcome the late comers to the Strip. They were clearly interested in one another, their eyes locked in a magnetic embrace. Her emerald eyes lost their golden flecked luster to a dark, nighttime desire, matching Juan’s. Their hands touched often, fingertips communicating the messages lovers speak that only they can hear. Cherie, thinking the better of the two with the most to lose, excused herself to the ladies room.
There was a fiery feeling building up a steam that needed expression and release. In the restroom stall, Cherie raised her dress and put her hand up her thigh. She moved her red thong out to the side as she searched for her honey spot, now wet and eager. She knew this would not take long; so much emotion had burned through her already tonight. Her head relaxed to the wall and she began to finger herself rapidly as she thought about Juan holding his cigar and the size of his hands. God, but he was handsome, tall and virile. She wondered about his cock. Was he circumcised or did he have a turtleneck sweater? She smiled and released a slight giggle. Was he long, thin, short, thick, wide and flat, bushy or trimmed? How did he smell: like a warm musky forest after a light rain or like boot leather? Did he like briefs or boxers? Oh, God, maybe a thong… Oh God, oh God, maybe he was wearing a thong now, or nothing! She could feel the earlier tension redirecting energy to her clit as she became more and more aroused at the thought of Juan’s cock. She was adept at fingering herself and she wasted no energy now. She began to moan and move with the rhythm of her hand and fingers. She released her neck muscles and her head rolled from shoulder to shoulder. She could feel it all over now, everywhere. She was electrified, getting wetter with each stroke. Damn, she wished she had her finger vibrator, but she only carried it when she travelled. She would have to rethink that strategy another time.
She moaned, gyrated, clinched and quivered. She moved in harmony with her passion, with the ebb and flow of her pulse. Her eyes closed floating in the image of Juan, and then she raised her foot to the seat in the stall. She spread her legs giving her hand full open access: oh, what a vision she must have been. She was hot, looked sublime, and coming soon in her red silk undies. Her thong and garter belt pushed aside, she tormented her clit and pussy. Aware that people looked at her as if they wanted her made her feel better and gave her an emotional edge. She pretended Juan was looking at her now in the same way.
She began to come in her hand: two fire-red tipped fingers plunged inside of her pussy and her red-tipped thumb found the pink pearl of her existence. She worked herself into frenzied hot passion as she imagined Juan kissing her, holding her breasts, pinching her nipples, bending to suck her aureole and bite her nipples. Her hardened nipples stretched and made an appearance under her tight fully fitted dress. God! Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, God and she released a moan with her breath as she gripped her thighs tightly together, pushed, quivered, contracted and came. She stood like that for a few seconds then relaxed as she rotated her head and released her neck muscles. She felt like a new woman: a woman that knew she should be headed home before her quality time with the man at hand, Juan, turned into quality debauchery.
Cherie emerged from the ladies’ room looking like a redheaded goddess, to Juan’s eye. It was a wonder to him what women could do to themselves in a few short minutes to freshen up. Begging the late hour and an early call tomorrow, Cherie left after the next glass of wine and a penetrating kiss promised more to come.
Literotica about Love, Sex, Hope, and Passion
"Don’t tell me the moon is shining, show me the glint of light on broken glass." ~ Anton Chekhov
Fall 2015 ~ A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the War A Memoire of Lt.Col. Joe Lyle Jr
Feb 2016 ~ Indulgence by the Erotic Authors Guild ~ a Valentine’s Day Anthology
Mar 2016 ~ Naughty Nights Press Anthology with Gina Kincade
May 2016 ~ Sequel to The Para-Portage of Emily
July 2016 ~ Sequel to Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences
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Thank you, Lee, for allowing me to visit with you and your fans. It has been a fun and exciting sojourn into my decadent past as reflected in this excerpt of Cheerleaders in Heat. I hope your readers have enjoyed this interview and may even buy the book, I feel compelled to issue a serious warning. Although this novel is lighthearted, campy and full of laughter with an occasional tear and lots of riotous sex, there is a chapter that deals with rage, drugs, rape and is extremely violent. This chapter is no way meant to glorify aberrant non-consensual sex and/or drugs and violence in any way. It is a pivotal chapter and it lives at that point to give Cherie a reason to move forward, rather than continue to be sucked further into the dark abyss which she is quickly sliding. The surprise ending (don't peek ahead) explains it all. ENJOY!
All my love and huggs,