Do some sexual acts translate into print more readily than others? Penthouse Variations and Cleis Press teamed up with a collection of oral sex stories that got me thinking: is oral sex just better at adapting to the page? These stories waste no time getting around to going down and there’s no lack of explicit details. It’s smut that’s proud to be smut. Edited by the folks at Penthouse Variations, it’s not a surprise that this collection delivers some potent sensual inspiration to it’s readers.
As a whole, the collection is gritty, surprising, and often sweet. There’s definitely a common thread of mutual pleasure running throughout, which I found pretty refreshing. Also, it’s something to check out if you’re looking for oral sex pointers. These stories give some great detailed descriptions if you’re looking for new ideas and tricks.
I figured my readers might like to have a copy of their own and so….I’m giving a copy away! This giveaway will go until January 30th. The winner will be announced within 24 hours via email and an update on this post. You must be 18+ to enter and live in the U.S. Should you be chosen as the winner, you will need to provide me with your name and address. There are lots of ways to gain more entries: subscribers to the blog will get the most help with 5 extra entries. Followers on Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest will also score extra entries. You can tweet about the giveaway for 2 extra entries, which you can do once a day for as many days as you please. All entries will be checked for verification.
Ok, all set? Fill out the form at the bottom of the page. Good luck!
Unsure if you wanna enter? Check out this excerpt from one of my favorite erotica writers, Alison Tyler:
Zach said, “I’ll be there lickety-split,” and I couldn’t help myself. I started laughing.
“What did you just say?”
He was hanging up the phone, and he gave me a curious look, his ginger-colored eyebrows raised. “I told Jamie I’d be over in a minute.” He ran one hand over his short hair in a habit I recognized from two months of working at his side.
“That’s not what you said.” Jamie was one of our regular clients. Her office always ordered a dozen coffees with various shades of cream and varieties of sweeteners. But for some reason Zach’s response this particular morning had caught my attention. “You said lickety-split.”
“It’s just an expression,” Zach insisted, helping to add the creams and sugars, label the paper cups and set the caps in place. He was working on autopilot, while I was trying to find a way to let him know that his casual remark had made my panties wet. I didn’t rush, though. Zach and I had been flirting for months. We’d both started working at the café on the same day—neither one of us had seniority—and I was pretty sure that neither of us gave a fuck about management’s no-dating policy.
Who was going to rat us out? We were there by ourselves.
Once he’d set the last lid in place, Zach hefted the box to carry it to Jamie’s ad agency. I held the door open for him, and right as his well-muscled body was lined up with my own, I said, “When you get back, I have another type of split I’d like you to lick.”
I thought he was going to drop the coffee. I could actually see the Rorschach-like splatter on the tiled floor in my mind—regular two sugars blending with decaf with soymilk—but he caught himself and said, “Back in two minutes. Hold that thought.”
I held it. I held it as tightly as I possibly could, with my thighs squeezed together and my pussy positively clenched. Standing nearly frozen behind the counter, I willed myself to still my racing heart. As I exhaled, I looked at myself in the mirror over the fancy bronze coffee-maker. I had my blonde hair up in a French twist, every hair in place. The pink in my cheeks hadn’t come from a cosmetic palette, but from my sexual excitement. Every sensual fantasy I’d ever had about Zach seemed to percolate in my head into one steamy concoction.
I took a deep breath and prayed for a slow day. Maybe we wouldn’t have the normal commuters rush. Maybe we would be left to our own devices.
Maybes are worth about as much as a decaf soy latte in my world. When Zach returned, I had a line of impatient customers that ran from the counter to the door, everyone craving their caffeine fix before a long day at work. Zach and I danced through our usual banter without a word about what I’d said until we’d served the last harried commuter. Only then did he sidle up to me, cradle my waist in his big hands and croon, “So, about this split?”
I grinned at him and took one of his hands in mine. Behind the counter, I slid his fingertips beneath the waistband of my short, checkered skirt and into my silky yellow panties. The expression on his face let me know when he felt the wetness meet him, envelop him, suck him in. After a few seconds, he withdrew his hand and slowly, oh so slowly, licked his fingers clean.
“How long have you wanted me to taste you?” His voice was hoarse. He looked as light-headed as I felt.
“Since that first latte.”
“Since the first day we were at work together. You made yourself a foamy latte, and you licked the rim of the cup before taking a sip. All I could think of was you licking my pussy in exactly the same way, with the same look of pleasure in your eyes. I’d never been jealous of a seventy-percent-recycled paper cup before.”
“For two months you’ve wanted me to do this?” He slid his fingers back into my panties and used two of them to fuck me. I held onto the counter with both hands and stared straight forward. If a customer walked in, we’d probably be able to save face, although Zach might’ve had to work the cash register with sticky, pussy-scented fingers. But no customers interrupted us. Zach overlapped his two probing fingers and began to work me faster and harder, easily managing to locate my G-spot. I’d never been so masterfully touched. My whole body felt electrified.
To my dismay, he pulled away before I could come, and this time, he spread my shiny gloss on my own lips. I was breathing hard. I stared into his eyes. He brought me to him, and with sweet finesse, he licked my lips clean. Then he kissed me. Really kissed me. Our tongues met, and I could taste my own honeyed flavor.
“How much do you want me between your legs?” he whispered when we parted.
“Desperately,” I told him.
“Let’s see how desperately,” he said, and he went to his knees on the black spongy mat behind the counter and buried his head under my skirt.
Excerpted from Penthouse Variations on Oral: Erotic Stories of Going Down, edited by the editors of Penthouse Variations, published by Cleis Press.
Special thanks to Cleis Press for providing me with Penthouse Variations on Oral in exchange for my honest review and for making this giveaway happen!
Thanks to everyone who participated in this book giveaway! And congrats, Bernie, who won a copy of Penthouse Variations on Oral from Cleis Press!
Stay tuned for another Cleis Press book giveaway.
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