Sorry, can't chat - though I'd love to! Just have time (and only then if I miss out personal pronouns) to announce the arrival of yet another Naughty Nibble, fresh (not so fresh, really, as it was previously published in Sensual Ghosts, an erotic/paranormal anthology) from my notoriously pervy pen.
It can be found here:
And looks like this:
The cover is rather blue compared to the others in this series, though the colour (my favourite as it turns out) fits perfectly with its contents' frosty theme.
A short extract appears below. Hope you can find the time to take a look at it!
Take care till next time,
Alexandra xxxxx
Brief extract from 'The snowgirl':
Footsteps.
Hinges creaked.
'Hey, Jack!' Suzanne bellowed through the open door of the cabin, her brash voice in total contrast to her slight frame. I fancied it could cause an avalanche if she ever got angry. 'We're ready to go again. Come on!'
Her final words were thrown over her shoulder as she trudged away. I rolled off the bed, hobbled out onto the veranda and squinted into the snowy glare. The three of them had probably grabbed lunch in the village and were now hungry to attack the slopes once more. After my mid-morning high-speed tumble, I'd made my way back here alone, had spent the last two hours daydreaming and nursing my bruises.
'God, Jack! You're not even dressed!'
Suzanne rolled her eyes as she clipped back on her skis. She was beginning to annoy me. Her pretty face, blonde curls and tight curves were very attractive, but last night's inexpert fumblings had been disappointing to say the least. It's awful to say it, but that body was wasted on her. She was like a four-year-old in a Ferrari. In fairness to Suzanne, my mind had been elsewhere: the creaks, groans and breathy moans that had emanated from Mark and Janis's room had been very distracting. God, I envied him.
I suddenly realised they were all staring at me. For once, Suzanne was right: my T-shirt and underpants combo was not traditional skiing gear.
'Sorry, guys; I've decided to rest up. Twisted my knee in that fall. Don't want to push it and spoil the rest of the week.'
It did hurt, but my limp to the door had been somewhat exaggerated. I really just needed some more time alone.
'Come on, you fucking wimp! We've all twisted something...'
As usual, Mark was trying his best to twist my arm. He was my best mate and always expected me to go along with him. And I usually did. This Christmas break had been his idea - he'd been trying to set me up with his little sister for a long time. And I'd been enthusiastic enough, though I was now regretting it: a great body is scant compensation for an empty head. Mark gesticulated and looked around him.
'The snow's perfect, man. Can't waste an afternoon like this just because of a little pain.'
'Please, Jack. It won't be the same without you.'
Janis's sultry voice could have melted glaciers. I felt my resolve begin to weaken.
Janis was Mark's girl, but she should have been mine. We were much better suited, would have been perfect together. However, such is fate: she simply met that lucky bastard first. It was a travesty. There was more than just a spark between us. I loved her. When Mark got bored - as he always very quickly did - I knew Janis and I would get together. I prayed for that day, fantasised about kissing her, tasting her femininity, sliding my hard...
'Jack? Say you'll come. As Mark says, you shouldn't squander opportunities.'
Janis adjusted the white silk scarf around her neck. It was my Christmas gift to her and she'd worn it constantly since we got here. Her wink was conspiratorial and disconcerted me, even caused Mark and Suzanne to exchange uneasy glances. No matter how much I fancied Janis - my heart and cock swelled at the mere mention of her name - I didn't want them to imagine anything untoward was going on between us.
Even a ski suit couldn't hide Janis's copious charms. When asked to draw the ultimate female body, every cartoonist would have sketched Janis: slender, toned limbs; tiny, taut waist; pert, rounded tits; deliciously curved hips; and firm, rounded bum. A walking, talking paradigm of perfect womanhood. She was flawless. Intelligent, quick and funny. Sharp as a knife. Long straight dark hair framed her lovely face. Big brown eyes pleaded. Plush red lips pouted. And her nose. Her little turned up nose...
No comments:
Post a Comment