Archive for July, 2011


Posted on: July 26th, 2011 by Madison Lake No Comments

“All I’m going to say is, you have exactly four, maybe five minutes to get up off the floor and make yourselves decent before Mrs. Furlish walks in. She’s stepping out of her car as I speak. The scowl on her face makes me think she’s not in the best of moods, but then, she’s a tough one to read at best. She might just be struggling with the seatbelt.” Liam stared out the front window intently. “Okay, she closed the door. The only thing you’ve got going for you is she’s elderly and slow. Now get moving.”

            The two careless lovers jumped up off the floor. Miguel followed Genevieve into the staff room, a pile of clothes covering up what they could of their exposed flesh. Liam plopped himself down at the front desk and waited, surfing new messages on his iPad. Nothing. His life at the moment had slowed to a snail’s pace given he was not out and about socially these days. As he watched Genevieve and Miguel tiptoe back into the salon’s main room, he began to have second thoughts about this Lent thing. He was definitely missing out, although, he mused, sex should really have nothing at all to do with drinking. The fact that he had neither in his life was what really worried him.
Before giving up drinking for Lent, Liam hadn’t really been all that happy. Sure, his sexual appetite had been quenched with each visit to the clubs, but even that was getting tired. What he truly longed for was love, and he knew enough that you don’t find that at the Down Under. Nonetheless, he was addicted – addicted to skin, to seeing smooth, taut bodies gyrate and grind with the beats, titillating those who watched by exposing just one small bit at a time  It wasn’t only the physical parts that were exposed to him, but with each thrust or wiggle, these beauties showed Liam a little more of who they were inside. The more he watched the more he understood, until he felt he knew them intimately. That was the ultimate turn-on – that and the tease, the playfulness, the ‘don’t touch’ tantalizing aspect of the experience. He had become a first class voyeur. He longed for it, he craved it, yet he wanted out. Was Lent going to save him?
The door rattled and in shuffled Mrs. Furlish. Liam didn’t mind attending to the few elderly ladies who regularly came to Snippets. He felt it kept a nice balance between the outlandish queens and dykes, the tattooed artsy types, the arrogant young stock brokers with their diamond studded wives who were regulars at the salon for cuts and colors, and who offered him a regular diet of the goings on around town. As long as his clientele didn’t object to one another, Liam figured all were welcome.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Furlish. And how are you today?” Liam stood up and gave Vivian Furlish a welcome hug. Her thin arms wrapped around Liam’s wide girth. She patted his broad back with her claw-like hands. Mrs. Furlish had to be in her late seventies, and she looked it. She had been coming to see Liam for six years. Every Friday she had a wash and set, and because she was a smoker she got it dyed once a month, to keep the grey bright and fresh looking.
“Sweetie,” Liam said gently while patting Mrs. Furlish on the top of her thinning head of hair. “I’m going to get Genevieve to wash and set you today. I’ve got a last minute cut and color to do. Rather than reschedule your appointment, I figured Genevieve could take over. Besides, she needs the practice.”
“Making the loyal customers your guinea pigs now, are you, Irish?”
“No, no, that’s not it at all Vivian. You know me better than that. You’ll love Genevieve. I know how much you like to talk and Genevieve is a great girl for gossip. And you know I’d never abandon you or leave you with someone I didn’t feel was capable.”
“Well, I guess so. What choice do I have? I’m not about to go home, now that I’ve parked the car and all.”
Mrs. Furlish glanced toward the back of the salon at Genevieve. She was giggling while snipping away at Miguel’s damp, tangled hair. Every now and then she’d lean in toward his face as if she were straining to hear him, and nibble on his ear.
“You might be right for once, Irish. I’m trusting you on this one, but next time I want my regular routine, okay?” She poked him playfully.
“You got it, sweetheart. Thanks for your understanding.” Liam smiled sincerely. “Now, have a seat. She’ll be right with you. Here,” he handed her a magazine. “We got the new People in today.”
On the cover was a glam shot of the new royals. Prince William was wearing a blue v-neck cashmere sweater over a white shirt and khaki trousers, while his new wife, Catherine, was dressed in white a knit sailor suit. Vivian Furlish flipped the pages until she found what she was looking for and settled in on one of the comfy settees to wait. Seeing that she was alright, Liam casually walked to the back of the salon and hovered politely over Genevieve, watching her every move.
“Your next client is waiting,” Liam said, nonchalantly. “I have a cut and color that just booked. I told Mrs. Furlish you’d be happy to take care of her.”
Genevieve didn’t flinch, but continued to snip and thin Miguel’s hair until satisfied with her work. Liam had to admit, Miguel’s new cut was styling. She had cut most of the length at the back and along the sides, but left it lightly feathered on top to give it a tousled look. She kept his sideburns long to accentuate his jaw line. The look was very GQ and gave him an air of sexy sophistication rather than the look of sexy boyishness he had walked in with.
“Just a quick blow job…I mean blow dry…and I’ll be done.” Genevieve and Miguel giggled like teenagers. Liam glared at her with a twinkle in his eye. He enjoyed the breath of fresh air Genevieve brought to the salon. When Liam had first opened, over eighteen years ago, it was rocking all the time. But over the years, and with staff coming and going, the vibe had mellowed – he had mellowed. This new employee was just what he and Snippets needed. It was great to see someone who could enjoy herself on the job and still accomplish great work, although he had to admit, sex on the salon floor even pushed his limits for acceptable on the job behavior. Maybe he was just jealous, but he’d have to speak with her about it.
“Alright, hurry up you two. You’ve got a lovely but rather impatient Mrs. Furlish reading about Jen Aniston’s newest date in an old People. She’s going to tire of it very soon, so let’s be ready.”
“Right, boss.” Genevieve shot Liam a look and Liam couldn’t help but laugh.
He returned to his desk. By the time Genevieve got Miguel dried and out of the chair, Mrs. Furlish was pacing around the waiting area looking at her watch. Liam pretended not to notice, eyes intent on his iPad. He was looking at the Foxy Lady website, reconsidering his fetish regardless of giving up booze. He looked up at Genevieve, taking care of his client, Vivian Furlish. She didn’t have to take her on. He had just sort of dumped her on Genevieve last minute, without asking, and Genevieve had graciously taken to the task without a word. Despite her outward appearance and ostensible flakiness, she was becoming a valuable asset to Snippets. Liam smiled to himself. Yes, he thought, she is going to work out just fine.
            “Here you go, Mrs. Furlish,” Genevieve said. “Come on back to my station with me. I’ll take good care of you.” She turned to Liam.
“That’ll be forty for Miguel, hon. Do you mind taking care of that for me?”
Liam nodded. Genevieve winked and blew Miguel a goodbye kiss. Then she guided Vivian Furlish by the elbow to the back of the salon.
            “My goodness, that’s an awfully mini, mini skirt you’re wearing, my dear. I didn’t know they made them that small.” Genevieve smiled to herself.
            “Actually they make them smaller, Mrs. Furlish, but I can’t fit into those.”
            “Well, better you than me,” Vivian replied as if on par with the lovely Genevieve. Her dentures gave her speech a slight lisp.
            Genevieve helped Vivian Furlish into the chair and stepped on the hydraulic pump to raise it. She ran her polished nails through the thin, straggly and yellow-stained strands, but omitted the additional spice she had used with Miguel’s introductory assessment.
“I’m thinking a little trim might be nice today, Mrs. Furlish, as well as a wash and set. It’s getting long, and I know some very cool cuts that would take at least ten years off your age.”
Genevieve played with Vivian’s stringy locks, gently pulling, lifting and fluffing it up to create volume. “Maybe something like this,” she said to her client, cocking her head as if that would produce another image in the mirror.
            “Ten years, huh? What do I have to lose, right?
Genevieve pulled Vivian’s fine hair up and let it fall down naturally. Then she cupped her hands around the bottom and puffed it up to just below her ears.
“What do you think?”
“Oh, my!” cried Mrs. Furlish in sudden disbelief. Her dentures clacked as she spoke. Her eyes were like saucers.
“It reeks of sex in here.”
Mrs. Furlish looked slyly in the mirror at Genevieve. In return, Genevieve turned beet red.
“Figuratively speaking of course, darling, I don’t mean it really smells like sex, but this place pulsates with it. You, Irish, the pictures on the wall…all sexy, sexy, sexy. And this haircut!”
Genevieve relaxed a little, and looked around. Sure enough, the framed black and white photographs of women and men bordered on erotic but the bodies in them were tastefully hidden in shadow. A few Picasso-esque paintings that hung in the waiting area of the salon were clearly of nude females. Even the furniture was sexy. A leopard chaise lounge, a couple Herman Miller chairs in pale blue and brown, and a modern light blue settee. There was a peanut-shaped teak table for magazines; all very living room comfy. Genevieve had never really looked at the salon that way, but Mrs. Furlish had a point.
“Sex on the beach. Seems to me they make a cocktail by that name,” she continued matter-of-factly. “In fact I know they do. I read it on a menu a while back at the Clay Hotel in South Beach. What do you say we call my new do sex on the beach? Irish will love it.”
“Why Mrs. Furlish! I think you’ve just become my new BFF”

…stay tuned…Chapter 4 will be posted next Tuesday, August 2nd.


Posted on: July 19th, 2011 by Madison Lake 1 Comment
Genevieve left her new client with a magazine and cup of coffee and walked to the front of the salon. She wasn’t about to leave Irish with her crazy ex, nor was she about to allow Dominic to think he could come waltzing into her place of work threatening and intimidating her whenever he pleased.
Miguel watched Genevieve with interest. Not only did he think she was smoking hot in her short skirt and see through blouse, but she intrigued him. In the few minutes he’d spent around her, she came across with sexy confidence and girlish naivety all in the same package. He liked the fact that she was complex yet vulnerable.
            Miguel had always found it easy to peg people. He had a nose for it, which he considered a gift. When it came to women, he knew what he liked and what he wanted, and when he found it, he got it. So far that instinct had proven right. Although he hadn’t met who he considered ‘the one’, he knew he would when he was ready. He didn’t let little things like waiting for Ms. Right bother him.

At least the string of relationships he’d had in recent years were successful. They were happy times that ended well when they needed to end. What more could a guy want? Sometimes his current girlfriends found it difficult to put up with the long list of ex’s he kept in touch with. They became jealous of the close friendships he had with them, although hecouldn’t understand why. Women! Miguel found it difficult not to remain friends with those he cared about, but once he was finished with a relationship, it was over. There was no waffling, no second guessing. Once Miguel made a decision, it was final.

            Genevieve stood beside Liam, hands on her hips, and glared at Dominic.
            “Dominic, what are you doing here?”
            “I love it when you call me by my first name.”
            “Instead of calling you ‘piece of shit’? But that wasn’t the question. What are you doing here? Can’t you see we’re working?”
            “I didn’t come to see him,” Dominic gestured toward Liam. “I came for you, baby.”
            “I’m working. I’m busy. Stop harassing me or I’ll call the police.”
            “Oh, c’mon sweetheart. You don’t want to go and do that. Dominic wouldn’t be very happy with you if you did, and you don’t want to make Dominic unhappy now, would you?”
            “Fuck off, Dom. You don’t scare me. If you keep hassling me I will call the police. Don’t push me.”
            Irritated, Dominic shifted on his feet and looked around. He was not at all pleased with his reception. He had expected more from Genevieve. He had expected her to succumb to his charm and good looks, just like she’d done in the past. Instead, she stood her ground. Liam Irish kept his nose in his book. If Genevieve needed him, he would of course come to her aid, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He was not a fighting man. Oh, he had been, in his hey-day, but that was long ago, and he meant to keep it that way. He was used to thugs like Dominic, low-life insecure men who puffed up their chests and acted like big shots at other people’s expense. Liam was so tired of that – so done. But he wasn’t stupid. Liam knew enough that if, in any way, he irritated creeps like that, life could get ugly for him or anyone associated with him. He planned to stay out of it, whatever it was. Liam just wanted a quiet life, to do his own thing and not cross anybody’s path. That way, nobody would cross his.
            “Alright smartass,” Dominic said with sharpness to his voice. “Get your tight little butt back to work, but I’ll be back, you can count on it. You’re mine, and don’t you forget it.”
            With that, Dominic charged out the front door of the salon, hopped into the waiting Porsche Cayenne, and sped off.
            “What does he mean I’m his? How stupid does he think I am?”
            “Honey, he’s just power tripping. Now get to work. That man in the back is a new client. Shame on you for leaving him there for so long. First impressions, darling, first impressions.”
            Genevieve gave Liam a sly grin. “Don’t worry, darling, he’s in the bag,”
            Liam watched as Genevieve headed to the back of the salon. By her saunter, he knew what she was aiming for. Taking off his glasses and setting down his pen, he grabbed his cap and stepped out into the Miami sun. He needed to walk off some stress, maybe grab a bite to eat. Whatever it was, he needed to get out of the salon for awhile.
            On seeing Liam leave, Genevieve made her move. She’d already felt the vibe from Miguel so following up was a no-brainer. Pretending to get her cutting scissors, she went back up front and locked the door, knowing there were no clients till 2 pm. Before he knew what hit him, Miguel had a sexy Genevieve straddling him in the barber chair. She had hitched her skirt up to her waist and placed Miguel’s palms on her almost bare butt. He squeezed, softly at first, them more firmly. Genevieve responded with a soft moan, which encouraged Miguel to continue. She lifted his t-shirt over his head and proceeded to kiss him – his forehead, eyelids, cheeks, then down to his warm, smooth neck and the crevice of his shoulder that was soft and sweet. In return, he kneaded her buttocks, feeling the warm wetness through her thin panties. Is this for real? he thought, now grabbing Genevieve’s face in his hands and thrusting his tongue impatiently into her mouth. She responded with pleasure, returning his eagerness by sucking hard. Before either of them knew it, their clothes were off and they were gripped by passionate sex, on the chair, then on the counter, scissors and hair brushes flying, then on to the floor. Not a care in the world, nothing could stop this heated infatuation. Miguel came down on Genevieve in the middle of the salon, making her squirm and scream for more. He wasn’t finished after her first orgasm. He went for two, pleasuring her more than she had ever been pleasured before. Miguel could hardly contain himself, as he held back with each of her orgasms, which was intensely erotic for him. Finally, satisfied and spent, Genevieve rolled on top of him sensually caressing his body. As she worked her way down, down to his erect and waiting member, his body quivered with restrained enjoyment. He was ready. Her tongue worked the final magic as she twirled and sucked and teased him into a place where he cried out for her to stop. That was when she licked more fervently, and he came in a sudden burst of elation.
            Miguel flopped down beside an exhausted but contented Genevieve. Their moist bodies clung together happily, their appetites whetted. Miguel leaned up on his elbow and looked down at his new hair stylist with interest.
            “So, do you always introduce yourself this way to new clients?”
            Before she could answer, the front door opened and in walked Liam Irish.
…stay tuned…Chapter 3 will be posted next Tuesday, July 26th…


Posted on: July 12th, 2011 by Madison Lake No Comments
Liam Irish was bored. A week into Lent, he hadn’t had a drink in over a week, therefore, he hadn’t gone out to The Foxy Lady strip joint, or to his favorite fetish club, Down Under. Although he considered himself an Atheist, he had been raised Catholic. Some rituals were ingrained in him, so he used the more familiar rites and holidays as a time to challenge his will power. This year he was quitting alcohol for the duration of Lent, which, he discovered, also included his personal indulgence of biweekly visits to sex clubs. It seemed he couldn’t manage one without the other.
At the onset, Liam had not considered the forty days of restraint to be difficult, but it was day seven, and he already found himself surfing internet porn sites to quench his thirst for voyeurism. Somehow, and in true Catholic form, Liam didn’t feel this indulgence fit into the category he had given up – thank god!
He pulled the flat iron through Frances Del Monte’s hair, careful not to tug too hard.
“So Frances hon, how’s the fam?” Liam asked, trying to make conversation even though he was in no mood for small talk.
 “Oh, you know, Mitch still drinks too much, Laurie can’t decide if she’s going to hairdressing school, Military school or no school at all, and Mitch Junior, well,” she thought for a moment. “Mitch Junior is too busy sitting at his computer playing games and surfing the net. Frankly, I think he’s up to something.”
Frances Del Monte was in her mid-forties, rotund, with a thick head of frizzy black hair and a jovial cackle of a laugh when she got going, which was often. Liam Irish adored her, and in turn, she was one of his most loyal clients.
 “You’re probably right Fran, but what are you gonna do?”
Liam snipped a few stray ends before he whipped the towel away from around her shoulders and lowered the hydraulic chair so she could step off. Her stilettos clicked on the hard linoleum as she stood up.
“Here you go doll face. Good as new.”
He pulled Frances’ faux leopard jacket off the hanger and helped her into it, then walked her to the front desk and opened his appointment book. While they were arranging her next scheduled time, the door opened and in walked a young man with shaggy blond hair and a two day overgrowth. He was drop dead gorgeous.
“Uh, excuse me,” he stammered. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have an eleven thirty with Genevieve. I’m a bit late.”
Liam and Fran just stared. The young man looked around to see what they were staring at. Once he realized it was him, he looked down, blushing.
“Awfully sorry ‘bout that. I look an awful mess,” he said humbly. “I’ve just returned from travel, you see. Really need a cleanup, don’t I?” He laughed. Liam and Fran exchanged glances. Fran finally came to the rescue.
“You look fine to me, sweetheart. If I had my way, which I don’t very often,” she shrieked delightfully, “I’d just preserve you in ice or wax or whatever it is they use nowadays, and take you just the way you are. How old are you?”
“S’cuse me?”
“How old are you? You’re adorable.”
“Fran, honey, that’s not polite,” Liam piped in. “We don’t even know this gentleman. You’re embarrassing him.”
“Well, it’s a fair question, isn’t it, Irish?”
“It’s okay. I’m thirty. Or is that too old for your taste?” He smirked. They all laughed, and the tension in the room dissipated.
“Are you Miguel – Miguel Santos?” Liam asked, holding his finger on a name in the book.
“Yeah, that’s me. Shall I have a seat and wait, then?”
“Oh, Miguel, you can do whatever you want.” Frances followed him to the waiting area, clip-clopping in her strappy heels all the way.
“Fran, focus,” Liam said in a slightly raised voice so as to grab Fran’s attention. “Let’s get that next appointment booked so you can go pick up your two delightful children from school.”
“Oh goodness, Irish, did you have to tell on me? Really. I could have had a chance if you hadn’t exposed that information.”
“Fine. How’s two weeks Thursday? That’ll be the fourteenth.” Liam knew Fran well enough to know when to listen and when to ignore her antics.
“Great, darling. And can you put this on my tab. I’ll pay you next time. How much are we up to, Irish?”
Fran sauntered over to the desk by the door and leaned over Liam’s shoulder.
“You’re up to about four hundred dollars, Fran, and five’s payday.”
“Alright, Irish. Cash in two weeks time. We’re off to Key West tomorrow. Mitch wants to do a little fishing, and the kids want to surf…the net.” Again, Fran cackled with laughter. “You know, Irish, you really should take us up on our offer to come to our condo sometime. Get outta the Miami heat. Mitch’d love to take you out in the boat. God knows he’ll never get me in that thing, unless it grows in length by about forty feet.” Her eyes rolled. “Besides, some fishing and R&R never hurt anyone, right Irish?” Liam smiled and she winked back.
”Ciao, boys.” She leaned over the counter and gave Irish a peck on the cheek, glanced over at Miguel, who was thumbing through a GQ, and waved. Then Frances Del Monte swept out of the salon. Miguel looked over at Liam.
“She’s quite the breath of fresh air, isn’t she?”
“Yes, quite,” Irish admitted. “She’s actually not as ‘large’ as she appears. That’s just her MO, you know?”
Just then, Genevieve walked in. Petite and slim, with long, dark, straight hair, big brown eyes and full, red lips, she was dressed for a typical day in the salon, which was dressed to kill. Miguel stopped mid sentence, mouth agape. Genevieve smiled, well aware that she was a head turner. She turned to Liam.
“Hey Irish, how’s it going?”
She walked up to the desk, dropped her bulky purse on to the floor and leaned against Liam’s broad shoulders, staring at the day’s client list.
“I wonder if I have time to grab a latte before my eleven o’clock?”
She looked at her watch then scanned the room for her first client of the day.
“Miguel, meet Genevieve. Genevieve, meet Miguel. I take it you’ve never laid eyes on each other. Just a guess. And it’s eleven thirty sweetheart.”
“Oh, shit, sorry. Miguel. Wow, good thing I came a bit early then.” She giggled. “I was actually expecting someone more…more…”
“Mexican? Yeah, well my mom’s mom was from Tijuana. Does that count?” He said this without a hint of an accent.
Liam returned to his scheduling book, but was well aware of what was going down. The electricity in the air created the room to buzz with a new kind of energy, one that Liam hadn’t felt in a long time. Damn, he thought, I wish it were me.
Genevieve led Miguel with her eyes to the chair at the back, his gaze riveted to her black lace blouse and body-hugging mini-shirt that offered more than a peek at her firmly sculpted buttocks. The last guy that had cut Miguel’s hair had been gay, and had flirted shamelessly with him. He didn’t mind that he was gay. It was the aggressive nature of his come-on that drove Miguel away from continuing at that salon. Miguel figured it was a pretty good bet that Genevieve was not a lesbian, but then, he had been wrong before.
There was the time at the Romance Novel Convention in Dallas, when a group of writers from the Creating Believable Characters workshop went out for drinks at the end of the last day of the convention. Judith, an attractive brunette with ample breasts and seductive lips, hung onto him throughout the evening. Buying him drinks and nuzzling up to him, he figured he had her ‘in the bag’. When it came time to go back to the hotel, Miguel discovered Judith had been using him to make her girlfriend, Leslie, another convention classmate, jealous. Leslie, as it turns out, had met Hilda, who came from Norway to teach a workshop. Unfortunately for Judith, Leslie and Hilda hit it off instantly, leaving poor Judith in the lurch. Miguel ended his weekend nursing Judith back to a mental equilibrium so she could return home bruised but not battered. To this day Miguel was still miffed at the number of lesbian females who wrote romance novels.
            Liam watched from over top of his reading glasses as Miguel sat down and Genevieve ran her scarlet painted nails through his hair. They were having the ‘first client’ discussion, but Liam knew there was more going on. Hmmm, Liam Irish thought, with increasing pleasure. This is going to be a hot one indeed.
            With his nose in his scheduling book, Liam paid little attention to the salon door opening and closing. After a few minutes he sensed a presence and looked up with a jolt.
            “What the fuck are you doing in here?” Liam asked, looking around to ensure no customers were within earshot.
            “Yeah, nice to see you too, man. Came to speak to Genevieve, what the fuck do you think?”
            It was Dominic, Genevieve’s old boyfriend. Liam hadn’t liked Dominic from the start. There was something dangerously uncertain about him. Liam had tried many times to identify exactly what it was when trying to convince an unhappy Genevieve to leave the jerk.
Dominic was tall and slender, but muscular, wore his long dark hair slicked back, and sported a goatee. Genevieve thought Dominic was handsome. Liam thought he looked like a gangster. But it wasn’t just his looks, as Liam knew looks can be deceiving. Dominic had attitude. He ran an online business that Liam questioned because Dominic could never show him any evidence of what exactly that online business was. Something to do with manufacturing, but what, Liam had no idea.
The friends Dominic hung out with were, in Liam’s mind, sleazy and shady. Once, when the three of them had gone out for drinks at Barney’s after work, a few of the ‘fellas’ showed up. Their conversation had been clandestine, whispered behind turned heads. Dominic’s friends circled around them as if guarding them, and when it was time to go, they pulled out wads of bills and paid the tab with cash, like they were taking care of things for Dominic. They treated him like he was the Godfather, and Liam had noticed that Dominic enjoyed it.
That was, he remembered, the first tip off that Dominic was not a good choice for his colleague, Genevieve, who Liam cared for a great deal. Although she was only ten years his junior, since hiring her, Liam had taken on the role of protecting her, as if she were a daughter. In this case, he had disliked the way Dominic had bossed Genevieve around as if he owned her. She put up with it at the beginning, being completely smitten with his looks and what seemed like his gentlemanly manners. But it soon became apparent that, what she took for manners was really macho behavior, and Liam was grateful when she tired of his ways. However, ending their two year relationship had proven difficult, and if Liam’s instincts were right, trouble had just walked into Snippets Salon.
stay tuned…Chapter 2 of Salon Antics will be posted next Tuesday, July 19th…


Posted on: July 11th, 2011 by Madison Lake No Comments

Read about our main man, Liam Irish, originally from London, England, the lovely and exotic Genevieve, sexy, smart, and perhaps too sweet, Miguel, and the handsome gangsta Dominique. They are just a few new peops you’ll learn more about and get to know over the coming weeks. Love ’em or hate ’em, they will undoubtedly become your new best friends.

Chapter 1 of the next novella starts tomorrow on Titillating Tuesday with this fresh cast of characters, plenty of excitement, intrigue, and lots and lots of steamy scenes. Join us July 12th, with SALON ANTICS.

…Stay Tuned…


Posted on: July 5th, 2011 by Madison Lake No Comments
Jake Roberts. She’d forgotten how he could kiss!
Their clothes were halfway off by the time his front door closed behind them, their quickened breath filling all twenty-five hundred square feet of his stylish apartment with anticipation. She let herself be thrown down onto the king size bed, and allowed him to finish undressing her one item at a time until she was lying on top of the down-filled duvet in only her pink lace bra and thong. He kissed her forehead affectionately then moved to her warm, rosy cheeks. He nibbled at her ears before he worked his way downward. Sensitive to her vulnerability tonight, but assertive enough to be gloriously erotic, he parted her legs. They opened with ease. She shut her eyes and moaned, feeling an urgency that had been burning inside her since her rescue, moreover since they first met. 
They flirted on the edge, foreplay being the name of the game. He cupped her breasts then touched her hardened nipples protruding from beneath the lace trim of her bra, which remained clasped around her chest. He repeatedly kissed the inside softness of her thighs and toyed with his tongue, the garters attached to the black silk stockings she’d worn just for him. Never once did he attempt to remove a garment. He was more than satisfied, and so was she, neither one of them in any hurry to take things farther than this erotic display of affection. Instead they savored the moment like a gift. Time stood still.
Joanie had only fantasized about such seductive displays of passion, so she let herself indulge in this undiscovered bliss. Jake hovered over her and gazed into her eyes, into her soul with a sly, devilish passion. She could feel his hardness, and see the desire on his glistening lips. There was no doubt in Joanie’s mind that, despite the unfortunate incident with Peter at the Mark II months earlier, despite the more recent incident that took place in her own apartment, despite everything that had happened, this hunk of a man did more than sexually arouse her. He loved her. For the first time, Joanie was beginning to have a taste of how love felt.
Interludes of conversation and lusty, romantic fondling inevitably led to where they could hold out no longer. Working Jake’s stiffness into her own throbbing wetness, Joanie arched her back for his entry. After what seemed like hours of temptation, climax for both of them was close at hand. Jake pressed his fingers down into her opening, igniting her clitoris into an explosive orgasm, one that she had never in her life experienced. His ejaculation inside her only elongated her ecstasy. The room vibrated with their pleasure until the last groan. Then they were spent. They kissed and held each other until, with the forceful pull of one strong arm, Jake tackled Joanie to the floor in a heap of limbs and laughter. He yanked the duvet off the bed, biceps rippling, and wrapped it snugly around them both.  There on the plush, brown carpet, they drifted in and out of sleep until twilight roused them.
 “So, what’ll it be tonight my darling, a nice steak at Chez Fritz, or some delicious seafood linguini at Luigi’s? Or, would you rather stay home and eat by candlelight with the view of the twinkling city below?”
Joanie let her head fall over to rest in the soft but firm crease of Jake’s shoulder, and sighed. Dusk was peaking now, as the setting sun streamed deep orange through the floor to ceiling bedroom window. It filled the room with a deliciously warm glow.
…Stay tuned for the next round of chapters from new novellas to be posted soon…