Sunday, September 30, 2012

New Book Release Announcement

I've just submitted my next book through Amazon, in Kindle eBook format. It should become available within a few days. Here are the details:

Donna & Carol Book 11: Company: At Wes’s Request

Author: Mitch Jehnsen

Description (Erotic Romance): 
This is the conclusion of a two-part series that began with Book 10, and it will begin exactly where Book 10 left off.

It’s the morning after a wild night of adult fun; the company has slept over; and everyone rolls out of bed naked and in a very playful mood. As everyone knows, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and there’s no need to hurry when there are so many interesting things that six people can do with food. The resulting craziness sets the tone for the day. It’s time for an Open Play-Day: 24 hours of sustained nudity and sexy fun.

Everyone is having a great time, until the guilt sets-in for Donna and Carol, but not because they’re getting into mischief, it’s because, with four guys and just the two of them, they feel that they’re hoarding the fun. The solution? More company!

The ladies have a surprise in store for their out-of-town guests; Donna gets a surprise of her own; and Carol gets to live out a fantasy. As the saying goes, a good time was had by all—until exhaustion set in.
For fans of Donna & Carol, understand that this book does not mark a new direction for the series. This is something that my characters wanted to try. Frankly, I had nothing to do with it. They did it; I just wrote it down. I’ll try to exert a little more control in the future.

41,109 Words

Donna & Carol Series Description:
This series is equal parts erotica and romance. The heat builds through careful character development, a strong story line, and a gradual buildup to intimacy.

In each installment, our first-person narrator looks back from the present day, to tell us about his life with the title characters. From his point of view, these stories are a celebration of the lives of these two remarkable women.

The narrative is set in a northern suburb of Minneapolis, Minnesota, beginning October 1969, when the main characters were high school seniors. The series trajectory takes them from their first experiences with love and sex, through a very thorough, open-minded, and creative exploration of sexuality and the structure of relationships. Over time, their sex lives become varied, energetic, and joyful, but through it all, they share a deep and abiding love for one another. More than anything else, it is the love that drives these stories.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Coming in September: Donna & Carol, Book 11 (Sample)

Donna & Carol, Book 11: Company: At Wes's Request

Chapter 1: August 1977
It was a good dream, my favorite kind. I had my nose buried in Donna’s bush and was using my tongue to tease the shaft of her clit. I hadn’t known it was a dream, not at first; I was living it, almost able to taste her tangy wetness and smell her heat.

As time passed, though, I began to emerge from that sound sleep and became aware that I was dreaming. I slipped into that half-dream, half-waking state where I could exert some control over things, but it still felt real, so real that I could virtually feel her pubic hair tickling my nose.
The phantom tickling sensation became stronger, and I moved my head away but couldn’t seem to escape it. It felt so real and was so persistent that it pulled me out of my sleep and into consciousness, like a fish being reeled to the surface of a deep lake.
I opened my eyes and saw Donna’s face about two inches from mine, wearing an ear-to-ear smile. Her hand was there, too, and in it, the ends of a lock of her thick hair. 
“You’re awake, Andy!” she whispered.
“Imagine that,” I said.
Her smile became wider still. “I need to shower,” she said.
“I know,” I answered.
Her expression changed to mock-stern, and she cuffed my shoulder with the heel of her hand.
“Come on, Andy; shower with me. I need some time alone with you.”
I closed my eyes and made a face. “Oh, I don’t know . . .” I said.
She gave my shoulder a shake and hissed, “ANDY!”
I opened one eye, looked at her, and smiled; then I leaned forward and gave her a good-morning kiss.
She returned it, grinned, and said, “Let’s go.”
We eased out of bed. Our bunkmates, Carol and Wes, were still sound asleep, and we didn’t want to wake them . . . plus, we wanted first dibs on the shower.
Once on our feet, we checked-in with the sleeping couple and saw Carol take a deep breath, roll into her husband, and drape an arm over him. Wes didn’t budge.
Donna gave me a satisfied smile, then made a shooing-motion with her hands. I rolled my eyes, turned, and started for the bathroom. I’d gone about three steps when I felt her hands on my butt, followed by a tandem squeeze. “You have the best little ass, Arneson,” she said in a happy sotto voce.
We did our best to keep the noise down until we’d made the bathroom and closed the door behind us. Donna laughed happily, threw her arms around my neck, and we shared a very thorough kiss.
“Good morning, Donna,” I said, when it was over. “You’re in a rare mood.”
“I have a lot to be happy about: we have some very entertaining company in the house; Carol and Wes are sleeping in our bed; and I have you for a husband.
“Wasn’t that something last night?” she went on. “I came about a million times.”
“And we came inside you about a million times,” I added.
Her eyes sparkled as she asked, “Did you have fun?”
“You couldn’t tell?” I asked. Her smile broadened. “I came a bunch, too,” I went on, “mostly with you.”
“Andy,” she began, her expression clouding, “was that OK with you—what we did last night?”
She was referring to the emotional side of it: the relationship side.
I smiled, nodded, and said, “Of course it was, but it means everything to me that you asked. Thank you, Donna.”
She was smiling again by the time our lips met. I hugged her when it was over, and whispered into her ear, “I love you so much, Sweetheart.”
I felt her chest expand as she drew a deep breath. It went out with a sob of emotion as she hugged me hard, and said, “I love you, too, Andy, more than anything, more than anyone.”
We stood that way for some time, each soaking up the warmth of the other’s body and sharing the feelings that passed between us without words.
Finally, I said, “Wanna wash off some of that sex?”
“Yeah,” she said, “to make room for more.”
I laughed: “Oh, you think so?”
“Yep’” she said, with a big smile. “You start the water, Andy, I’ve gotta pee.”
*               *               *
The plan was to take turns washing each other, and Donna’s turn was over. That meant that I was clean—especially her favorite parts. Now it was my turn. “Should we wash your hair?” I asked.
“It’s OK for now. Besides,” she said with a smile, “something tells me it might need it more tomorrow.”
I started on her front, using a washcloth with care, cleaning her face while keeping the soap out of her eyes. We talked as I worked, and it was wonderful to simply enjoy being together, especially after a wild couple of days, not to mention the previous night.
We’d decided that, given our unusual lifestyle, it was critical that we find times like this to reconnect, to ground ourselves as a couple, and make sure that both of us were comfortable with whatever we were doing. This relationship was a work in progress, and although we were rock-solid and loved each other desperately, we were learning on the fly, and we had to be diligent.
She stood very still with her eyes closed, and I smiled as I worked a washcloth-covered finger around her mouth. I said, “Fun and sex aside, how are you doing with the boys here?”
“That’s a lot to put aside,” she said. She became thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Up and down.”
“Really?” I said.
“Yeah,” she answered, “I have so much emotional turmoil tied to that thing we did last summer: the thrill of letting go when Carol and I were with them out west, the horrible fear of losing you after we came back, and the relief when it was all over. I’m having a great time with them—and with you—but my head keeps bouncing back and forth between terror and guilt on one side, and euphoria on the other.”
“Hmmm,” I began, “it’s so ironic; here I am doing great, and you’re the one struggling. I guess it makes sense, though. Wes and I dealt with all that fallout from your trip in one day: you and Carol laid it out for us, we handled it, and we moved on. You  and Carol had to live with the guilt and fear for weeks. It had to leave scars.
“You can rinse, Donna,” I said.
She turned into the stream of water, wiped the soap from her face, and turned back to me. She rested her hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. She said, “I’m taking my cues from you, Andy. I’ve been keeping an eye on you, checking to see if you’re happy with what we’re doing. If you’re happy, then I’m having fun. I know this isn’t like me, but I need a lot of reassurance from you right now.”
I smiled and leaned in for a kiss, then said, “I can take care of that, and I promise you, I’m having a great time. Remember, we have a deal: when and if you go over the line, I have to let you know about it.”
“You’ve only done that once, Andy.”
“Because you’ve only crossed the line once, and that was an accident,” I said. “You have a lot of wiggle-room.”
She laughed: “Wiggle-room is the understatement of the century. You’re so good to me.”
Her look became serious, then, and she said, “Thanks for this, Andy. It’s so much better when we talk about it. It’s made all the difference over this past year.”
“Absolutely,” I said. I worked up a lather with my hands and made my way down her neck, onto her shoulders, and then to her arms. My time with Donna had taught me to appreciate the beauty of a woman’s arms. She was athletic and fit, and her slender arms had just enough definition to set off her curves. They were devastating in a sleeveless top.
“Andy, what was your favorite part of the weekend, so far?”
I chuckled: “Important qualifier: so far.” I paused in thought as my hands slid over her slippery skin, then said, “You’ll think I’m nuts, but I’ve really enjoyed watching the four of us interact: you, Carol, Wes, and me.”
Donna said, “How do you mean?”
“Well, these guys were the catalyst for bringing us four together. Now it’s a year later, and they’re here, and they’re playing with you and Carol, again. I think this is a kind of checkpoint for this crazy experiment we’ve got going.”
Donna gave a thoughtful, “Huh.”
I said, “It seems that we all have different ways of relating to each other and to the group. Together, you, Carol, and I are exactly the same . . .”
“Except better,” Donna said.
“Yeah, just like the old days, except better—stronger all-around. You and I are definitely stronger; you and Carol are amazing together; and the love has come flooding back between Carol and me; it’s powerful. It’s great between Wes and you, too, but it’s different.”
“Andy,” Donna began, “you and Wes are very different guys. Wes is a logical thinker; you give him a problem—like something on the job site—and he sees a straight line from the problem to the solution. No emotion. That’s what makes him so good at the construction trade.
“You, on the other hand, have that creative side that makes you such a good architect. There’s emotion in that creativity, and you bring that emotion to your relationships. You lead with your heart when you come to Carol and me, so that’s what you get back.
 “Don’t get me wrong,” she went on, “I love Wes like crazy—and he’s definitely an emotional guy, in his own way—but we interact more on the level of great friends who get together for sex. It’s terrific sex, but he and I will probably never make love the way that you and Carol can.”
“And Wes is OK with that,” I added.
“Completely OK,” Donna said, “and so am I. Like you said, we each have our own roles to play.”
It was time to move on to Donna’s chest and those perfect breasts of hers. It was also time, I reasoned, for a radical mood swing.
 I held off on the soap, preferring instead to clean those delicate parts with a precision tool: the tip of my tongue. I lifted a breast with my palm and took the soft point of the nipple between my lips. I used just enough suction to hold it in place and traced circles around the areola.
“That’s a unique approach,” Donna said.
“You have your taste test, and I have mine,” I said.
“Did it pass?”
“Yep: a fine, pleasing texture; rich, delicate flavor; and just the right amount of subtle aftertaste,” I said.
“Who would have guessed?” she said.
“It takes a true breast aficionado to make these fine distinctions,” I said.
“No one would question your credentials,” she added.
I took my time with the washcloth, pleased to see her nipples responding to the attention. I made sure her stomach was clean and went that extra mile to reach every corner of her navel.
I knelt to get close to my work, enjoyed filling her thick bush with soap, then rinsed it clean. I paused then, and asked, “Is your kitty sore.”
“Not bad,” she answered. “You’ll be gentle. Just use your fingers and plain water. That’s all she needs.”
I let water fill my palm, then patted it against the folds of her vulva. “Are you still leaking?” I asked, as my fingers explored the cleft between her inner and outer lips.
“Probably,” she answered. “Carol got most of it last night, but I was wet again when I woke up this morning.”
“The boys really unloaded in you last night,” I said.
“Andy, most of it was yours. You came in me three times.”
I smiled as I explored her opening with a fingertip: “You kept track?”
“It was a little hard to miss,” she said.
“Yep,” I said, “still a little slippery in there.”
“What makes you think that’s from last night?” she said. “You’ve already got me in a good mood.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I said, as I soaped the washcloth, ready to turn my attention to her thighs.
I passed the cloth down her firm curves, pleased at the way her tanned skin shone under the soapy film. “Did the boys comment on the change in your legs?” I asked. Donna and I had put a lot of miles on our bicycles over the summer, and it showed.
“Not so much on the change, but they both complimented me on how good they looked.”
“Good,” I said, “that means they’re normal.”
I stood, and Donna slipped her arms around my neck and pulled me close. She smiled, and said, “I think they’ve proven the whole normal thing by now,” and she gave me a lingering kiss.
“Time for the other side,” I said, when we’d parted.
She lifted her hair over her shoulder to give me access, and I soaped her back, enjoying the firmness of her muscles under the smooth skin.
“Aaandy?” she said, drawing it out.
“Yeees?” I answered.
“What did you do to Carol last night?” she asked, in a lilting tone.
I smiled: “I did a lot of things to Carol last night . . .”
“Don’t be coy. I’m referring to her orgasm. What did you do to make her sound like she was demon-possessed?”
“Now who’s being coy?” I asked. “As perceptive as you are? Speculate for me; what do you think I did?”
Donna let out a soft chuckle: “I know you stuck something up her ass; you had to, to make her go crazy like that. The only question remains: which digit?”
“A thumb,” I replied, laughing.
“Yeah; that fits,” she said.
“Barely,” I said.
She laughed.
I’d done her lower back and was sliding the soapy cloth along the floor of her butt-crack. “As long as we’re on that subject,” I said, “are you sore?”
My mind had flashed back to the events of the previous evening, in the bedroom, after the main event. There were four of us men in the house, and each had left a load in each of the women, some of us more than one. They were a mess, and both were leaking.
They’d passed on taking showers before bed, opting instead for a more personal approach to the clean up. They’d gone down on each other, taking turns for maximum effect, and Donna had gone first.
Wes and I had watched, and it had been unforgettable. Both women had become expert at pleasuring each other, and they’d been playful and thorough on that night.
When it was Carol’s turn, she gave Donna the perfect balance of tease and gratification, and her subject reveled in every stroke of her tongue. Carol may have been meticulous, but she’d also had a hidden agenda. When it seemed she was done, she’d surprised us by asking me to pass her a bottle of hand lotion.
Donna gave only the smallest flinch as she watched—and felt—Carol squirt a stream of the cool liquid onto the area around her anus. Carol held her eyes as she spread it, then slowly inserted an index finger into Donna’s tight virgin opening.
The room was dead-silent as Carol paused with her finger in place, waiting for Donna’s sphincter to relax. It took about a minute; then Carol began to slide her finger slowly in-and-out. “Tell me to stop,” she said.
Donna looked on in silence.
Carol kept it slow, but she kept at it. Donna pulled in a deep breath, took her lower lip between her teeth, and exhaled with a soft shudder.
Finally, Carol stopped with her finger nearly out, added more lotion, and stacked two fingers, one above the other. “Tell me to stop,” she repeated.
Again, Donna had remained silent, and Carol watched her closely as she pressed the second finger into the void. She stopped once, when Donna flinched, and waited until she seemed to relax. Carol said, “Yes?” and Donna nodded.
She paused again, waiting for that little ring of muscle to let go; then she tried a slow stroking motion. Donna took it well; if it hurt, she didn’t show it.
Carol kept it slow, and stopped when Donna had become fully relaxed. She withdrew her fingers with care, excused herself, and we heard water running in the bathroom.
When she returned, she crawled in next to Donna, who turned to face her. “Thank you,” Donna said.
“You’re most welcome,” Carol answered. “Is it less scary, now?”
“Did it feel good?” Carol asked.
“Not bad. Interesting.”
“That good?” Carol asked, with a chuckle.
“Maybe it’s an acquired taste,” Donna said.
My mind back in the shower, now, I’d asked, “Are you sore?”
By now, we were rinsing off the soap. Donna answered, “Not at all.”
I turned off the water and heard the click of the shower door as Donna pushed it open.
“It didn’t hurt?” I asked, as Donna reached for the towel.
“Come here, Andy. Let me dry your hair.” She gave my scalp a vigorous rubdown, as she said, “No, it didn’t. I was kind of surprised.”
“Did it feel good?” I asked, as she started on my neck and shoulders.
She looked thoughtful as she worked: “I could see how it could feel good. Turn around. Let me do your back.”
When it was my turn, I fetched a new towel and went to work on her thick tresses. Then it was time for a second new towel. We talked as I dried every inch of her, and I loved doing it. I’d never tire of looking at, and touching, her beautiful body. 
When I was done, Donna gave me a speculative look, passed her fingers along my jaw line, and said, “Andy needs a shave.” This brought a big smile, and I knew what that meant. She reveled in this and insisted on doing it whenever time permitted.
“Stand here,” she said, grinning and pointing to the spot in front of the mirror. “You know the drill.”
She opened the medicine cabinet and came out with my mug, badger-hair brush, and single-blade injector razor. She ran hot water, wet the brush, and began to work up a rich lather. Satisfied, she sat on the bathroom counter, within easy reach of the sink, and beckoned me with a crook of her index finger and an impish grin.
I stepped before her and allowed her to apply the warm lather to my face, watching her smile happily the whole time. Ready to go, she picked up the razor, paused, and said, “Andy, do you want me to take it up the butt? Is it important to you?”
I looked at the razor, let my eyes bug-out a little, and said, “Something tells me I’d better have the right answer.”
She laughed, and said, “Come a little closer.” She leaned forward, pushed out her lips, and attempted to kiss me without getting a face full of lather. She mostly succeeded.
She started below my right sideburn, working with extreme care. Her voice had a distracted tone as she said, “Up my ass; you were saying?”
It was hard not to grin, and I spoke, trying not to move my face: “I could die a happy man without ever having anal sex, but I have to admit, I’m a little curious.”
“Turn to the right, Andy.”
I turned, and she started on my other cheek. I went on, “It’s all up to you, Donna. If you try it and it gives you pleasure, I’d do it with you.”
“Tip your chin up, OK?” she said.
“The thing is,” I went on, “I don’t want you to feel pressure: not ever. Try it, if you wanna try it. If not, don’t. One thing’s for sure, though, I’d hate it if I thought you didn’t like it but were doing it just to please me.”
“Tip your chin down, Andy.”
I did, and she gave me a quick kiss, not the least bit careful this time, and she came away wearing a foamy goatee. She gave me a questioning look: “Did someone give you the answers to the quiz in advance?”
“You know I always study,” I answered.
“You do,” she said, nodding.
“And I love the subject matter.”
“And don’t you forget it,” she said.
Now I gave her the look. I said, “What about you; do you want to try it?”
She furrowed her brow, and said, “It’s probably gonna happen. It’s just a matter of finding the right time and the right situation.”
“Carol helped last night, didn’t she?” I said.
“She can read me like a book. She knew I was scared of it, and she played it just right.
“I still feel a little weird about the whole hygiene angle,” she went on. “One thing’s for sure, the guy can’t go from the ass to the pussy. It’s gotta be one or the other, or there’s gotta be a shower in between.”
“I know,” I said. “I remember you telling me about that, after they’d covered it in your class.”
“I’m sure of one thing,” she said, “you would be the perfect guy for my first time. You’d be gentle. There’s one problem, though, you’re a whole lot thicker than Carol’s fingers. I’m not complaining, mind you, but it’s in the back of my mind.”
Donna finished shaving me, cleaned both our faces, and said, “OK, which aftershave?”
I smiled: “You choose. I only wear it to please you.”
“Good answer,” she said. 

And so it begins . . .

Look for this new title in September, 2012

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Donna & Carol, Book 10, Part 1: Company: Hospitality Redefined

Book 10 has been edited and is nearly ready for release. It features romance, romantic couples sex, group sex, and voyeurism. Here's another taste:

They were coming, now, at least Dylan was. Carol could be so quiet that you’d miss it—unless you knew the signs. 

They slowed, and she came to rest with his full length buried inside her, almost as though it didn’t exist. She rocked forward and kissed him. “Thank you, Dylan,” she said. “You sure know how to please a girl: talented and well-equipped, to boot.”

I smiled to myself as I put my hands on her hips and lifted gently.

She began to laugh: “Must be Andy’s turn,” she said. “Can’t keep a good man waiting,” and she pushed up to her hands and knees.

I watched that long shaft slide out of her, softening now, almost snakelike, and when the head popped free, the whole thing toppled to the side.

Her inner thighs were wet and glistening as I moved into position. I was rock-hard and ready; she was relaxed and four-kinds-of-wet. I bottomed out in one long push. The feeling was electric, just as I’d known it would be.

She smiled back at me and said, “Hi, Andy. I’ve been waiting for my turn with you.”

I put my hands on her hips and savored the feel of her soft skin. I spoke as I moved into her: “I had fun watching you entertain your guests. It made me want you . . . like in the old days.”

She held my eyes for a few beats, and said, “I like that, Andy.

“Let me take care of you,” she added.

“You always do, Carol, but I don’t know if I can last . . .”

“I don’t need to come again, Andy, but I wanna coax one out of you. Use your hands to pull us together. Fill me up, Sweetie. Give me your creamy load.”

“A creamy load?” I said, “I’ll see if I can mix one up for you.”

She laughed: “You do that. Now give it to me hard, Andy. Make my knockers jiggle.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. I said, “We wouldn’t want to hurt Dylan.”

“Dylan’ll be OK. He’s a survivor,” said Dylan.

“See, no excuses,” Carol said. 

“OK,” I said. “Here comes the freight train.”

I gave it to her hard, my orgasm building amid visions of Carol with our two guests: Randall stretching her one way, and Dylan the other. 

I glanced to my right and saw Randall and Donna making out, while his hands pleasured her swaying breasts. The swaying came courtesy of Wes, who was happily sliding into her from behind. This was not helping my control.

By now, it seemed that my early release was inevitable, that I was destined to lose it and leave Carol hanging. I looked at her back, with her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, and let my eyes wander along the length of her, until I was looking down where my cock was sliding into her. That, however, was not where my eyes came to rest. They stopped about an inch above that spot, at the tight, crinkled opening with its darker skin.

I slowed my thrusting, then stopped, regaining some control before it all slipped away. I thought for a moment, then withdrew just enough to reach a hand between us. I stroked up the inside of Carol’s thigh, picking up moisture as I went, until I’d found the mother lode. Her bush was saturated with the juices of the evening, and I gathered what I could there and found more around her leaking opening. 

I felt Carol move and glanced up to see her looking at me; her face wore an inquisitive expression.

“Just go back to whatever you were doing,” I said.

She smiled back, saying, “I was on the receiving end of a good screwing.”

“Patience,” I said, and my finger made a twirling gesture, signaling her to turn around.

She narrowed her eyes, gave me a little lip-smile, and turned slowly to face the front. 

I looked at my wet hand and was satisfied with what I found. I wiped the slick fluid onto the curve of one butt-cheek and used my thumb to transfer it to her little brown bud. 

This brought her head around again, and I said, “Don’t worry. None of this concerns you. Go back to what you were doing.”

She gave me a look that said, Sure, Andy . . . but she turned around.

That’s when I began to move again, but very carefully this time. Donna and Carol loved this rear entry position; it could hit some good spots, providing you got your angles right. I knew Carol’s good angles, and I made sure I hit them now, but very slowly, keeping me under control while drawing her back into the game.

Of course, there was that other thing. I thought I might have the trump card for Carol, and I was going to start playing it now. I placed the pad of my thumb over her slippery, puckered opening and began to trace small circles. I felt Carol tense a little, then relax, then begin to move her hips with me: just a little, just fine-tuning those angles.

I smiled.

This bout of scheming had distracted me from my impending orgasm, and it toned-down my sensitivity. I’d bought myself a little working room, and I put it to use, increasing my tempo and hitting the good spots with a little more authority. Carol was beginning to show some interest, and her movements picked up accordingly.

I waited until we were moving together nicely, and her back began to show some color; then I stopped my thumb circles, moved to the center, and applied a little pressure. 

Her head turned and she gave me her fake-stern expression. It looked like she was just about to say something . . . when my thumb popped in. 

Her eyes closed, and her mouth went slack. I gave her a moment, waiting until her eyes opened. When they did, I slid my thumb part way out—and back in again. Her eyes opened wide, so I did it again. She let out a breath and turned back to face Dylan. 

Now I was happy.

I put my dick back to work, but now I added my thumb, and I synchronized them stroke-for-stroke. Carol was pushing back into me, now, and I wondered which penetration she was trying to increase: maybe both. It didn’t really matter; because I knew I had her, knew she would get off, too. 

Carol’s color was up and her head was down. She was lost in concentration as she moved with me, becoming the aggressor, now. It was like being caught in a feedback loop: the more excited she became, the more it turned me on. This was coming to a head for both of us; I could see it and feel it. 

Finally, she was literally slamming back into to me, and when she spoke, it came out with a Donna-like growl: “If you’re waiting for me to come, Andy, Don’t! Fuck me, Andy! Come on!”

I felt my eyes pop open: Our little Carol . . . 

She wanted to be fucked, so I fucked her. I met her every thrust, but I added one thing, I made sure that every time I hit home, I gave that thumb a little bump with my hips. She let out a grunt with every impact of our bodies. The sound was guttural, very un-Carol-like. 

Her noises increased in volume until a loud cry announced the start of her orgasm. It came as such a surprise and carried so much passion that it set me off, too. It felt like I’d released all the pent-up excitement of the evening through those first few spasms. 

Carol moved forward when it was over, drawing me out of both openings. I expected her to fall full-length onto Dylan, but she lowered herself to the side instead and rolled onto her back. She came to rest looking up at me, her chest heaving as she recovered. 

Finally, when it appeared she’d regained enough strength, she held out her arms to me. I smiled back and moved to lie down next to her, but she’d have none of that, and she gathered me in her arms and pulled me down on top of her. 

She kissed me hard, then turned her head, bringing her mouth close to my ear. She said, “Andy, you’re a dirty, dirty boy. Thank you!”

I drew back enough to see her eyes. I smiled, and said, “Did you come?”

She laughed, and it made her belly dance. 

I said, “I’m glad we had the windows closed. The neighbors might have called the police.”

She looked mildly embarrassed. Our Carol was back. “Was I that loud?” she asked.

“Yes!” Donna said. Then she looked at me, and her eyes narrowed: “What did you do to her, Andy?”

I said, “I think we have a journal entry for you.”

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

I'm editing Book 10, tonight. Here's a sample:

Donna is on the couch with Andy and Wes. Carol is entertaining male company on a Futon on the living room floor.

Donna closed her eyes, dropped down on Wes, and rocked her hips at high speed. She was grinding her clit against him, moving herself to the brink. Carol let out a muted cry, and Donna responded, saying, “Tell me when you’re ready, Wes.” 

I’d been on the receiving end of this strategy and knew what was coming.

Wes’s voice sounded strained when he said, “Carol’s coming now, and Dylan looks ready. I can’t hold it, Donna.”

“Don’t,” she growled. Then she switched to a fast stroking motion, just as I’d known she would. Her hips rocked in time, and Wes grunted as his first spasm erupted. Donna went faster still, and her groan told me she’d gone over, too. 

When they’d finished, Donna rested in his lap with her hips rocking slowly as they settled into the afterglow. Their eyes met and Donna chuckled, which made Wes laugh, too. She said, “We’re getting pretty good together.”

“I know,” he said. “We can do it nice and slow . . . or get our rocks off in a hurry, when we need it.”

“I think I’m gonna tell Carol to keep you around,” Donna said. “Speaking of Carol,”—she looked back over her shoulder, then came around to face Wes—”looks like she’s ready to change partners. That’s my cue. Feel better?”

“Much,” he answered.

“But you’re still hard as a rock.”


“Hold onto it, Wes. The night is young.” She gave him a kiss, then held eye contact as she rose off him, making a face as he popped free. “Enjoy the show,” she said.

I’d managed to keep my hand off my dick, but it had been a challenge. If watching Carol with the boys hadn’t been stimulation enough, I’d had my wife and best friend going at each other right next to me on the couch. Now Donna stepped between my legs and leaned in for a kiss. I could taste Wes on her. I still hadn’t gotten used to that.

She paused with her face near mine and smiled, as she whispered, “You’ve got a full plate tonight, with both of the women in your life fucking other guys, right before your eyes. You must be enjoying yourself. Just settle back into the couch. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She stood, turned, and backed into me. She stepped over my legs, then reached between her thighs, found me, and began to rub the head of my dick along the length of her labia. She was soaking wet, and I knew that some of it had to be Wes’s load draining out of her. It made me even harder, if that were possible. 

With the head of my cock wet and slippery, she brought it to her opening and gave me her weight. This was one of those rare times when I slipped right in. Wes had her relaxed, open, and dripping wet. 

Once she’d taken all of me, she stayed down—essentially sat in my lap—and lay back against me. She turned her face to me, and said, “What do you think? Wanna try it like this?”

“Sure,” I said. “Now we can all watch.”

She nodded happily, and said, “How about that?” She reached behind her, found my hands, and brought them around to rest in her lap. 

I could take the hint: My right hand began to sneak into her bush and my left found her breast.

She turned to look at me, said, “Good boy,” and shot me a little grin. I felt her pussy muscles give me a squeeze and watched the grin spread into a full smile.

There's more . . .


Tuesday, July 10, 2012

The Donna & Carol Series

I believe that erotica works better when it occurs within the flow of a meaningful story, built around believable characters with whom readers develop a strong connection. That is what I attempted to do with my Donna & Carol series. 

The stories begin in the fall of 1969 and are set in a northern suburb of Minneapolis, Minnesota. The characters are high school seniors (all 18+) when the series begins, and we are there with them as they explore one another, learn about sex, make mistakes, and fall in love.

In our time, we would call them sex-positive; their couplings are playful, passionate, guilt-free, and very, very creative. The characters are equally open-minded about the structure of relationships, and they stretch the definition of couple, to include more than two, and not just for sex, but for love as well. In the final analysis, it is the love that holds the series together. 

Most of these stories were originally published on the free Literotica website. Of the seven stories published in 2011, the first was released in the First Time category, with the remaining six listed under Group Sex. This was the highest rated new story series in the Group Sex category for the English Language for the twelve months ending 12/14/11 (the last time I checked before the holidays began). It accounted for two of the top five places, three of the top ten, and five of the top twenty, with 289,180 views, 1,552 votes, and 33 comments. Rankings for all seven stories ranged from 4.71 to 4.87 on a 5.0 scale.

Readers praised the character development, referring to them as "realistic and fully formed." "It's the intensely personal way you're drawing your 4 characters that is so capturing." 

Regarding the erotic elements: "Your descriptions make me feel as if I'm right there in the room with them;" the author "writes like a camera/sound records;" and "Wow! I'm still hard even after cumming."

"This series is quickly becoming one of the best erotic stories anywhere. Everything about it is outstanding: deep character development, perfectly-paced plot progression, and passionate imagery. While many stories feature a descent into debauchery, the building action in Donna & Carol feels more like ascension."