Today we welcome guest author and fellow Sapphic Planet member Fiona Zedde to our pages.
Two years is a long time to go without a lot of things: The taste of frost-sweetened tangerines in winter. A lover’s touch. Even a new book on the shelves waiting for eager hands to pick it up. After my first book, Bliss, was published in 2005, I was lucky enough to put out one novel each year. These novels, stories of erotic lesbian romance, had lived in my mind for so long that it was a relief and a pleasure to share them with strangers and new friends all over. But, after my last book, Hungry for It, was published, life shook me up, giving me a taste of both the bitter and the sweet, and getting in the way of me writing another print book until this one, Dangerous Pleasures.
And so, it’s been a long journey to this book which is an experiment of sorts. A story with two main characters, Mayson and Renée. One woman is a lesbian while the other is straight, and both have compelling and unique stories that overlap as the novel races to its conclusion.
Dangerous Pleasures explores the intricacies of the relationship between two women with different longings, the far-reaching lusts of one man, and the ways in which people can be led by desire into treacherous waters yet end up exactly where they need to be.
For a lesbian, is the experimental straight woman the last and ultimately forbidden frontier? This is the question Mayson must ask herself when confronted with one of these straight women in the very tempting flesh. And with most things forbidden, the idea of taking on this “virgin” territory seems ever sweeter the more Mayson tries to convince herself to back off. Take a peek between the pages of the novel to find out what she decides to do:
The dress was beautifully easy to take off. With one tug the string loosened and Mayson unwrapped the body that had been promised to her. Fatimah’s pleasure rumbled deep in her throat at Mayson’s appreciative and hungry look.
The last time she’d had a woman in her house intent on sex, Nuria had backed her against the door as soon as they walked in and demanded that Mayson fuck her. It had been her pleasure to take the reigns then, lifting Nuria against the door, tearing her panties away from the already wet and welcoming pussy, and sliding her fingers home.
But that was another time.
She and Fatimah came together, mouths, bellies, hands on skin. Through her clothes she could feel the other woman’s heat. Her hard nipples. The damp skin already ready for the tasting.
“Fuck me,” Fatimah hissed against her ear.
Perhaps that time and this weren’t that different after all.
She licked the soft, salty throat, gripped a fleshy hip while her fingers delved into the dense hairs to find the slick pussy. Two fingers. They both gasped and Fatimah fanned her legs wider against the back of the sofa, arms braced wide as Mayson fucked her slowly, relishing the pleasure of her pussy and the soft, sighing moans, and the hips rushing up to meet her fingers.
Her nipples were fat and eager for Mayson’s mouth. Ah! She groaned into the abundant flesh, licking and sucking at the stiff nipples, fingers working, curving up, sliding deep, exploring and taking.
With one hand, she abruptly lifted Fatimah up until she sat on the back of the heavy couch, legs spread wider. Her gasp of surprise turning into a groan of pleasure when Mayson slid her fingers deeper. Her head fell back. Hips diving up for Mayson’s seeking fingers, her head thrown back to release a continuous chorus of moans.
“Yes! Oh yes!” She thrust up against Mayson’s fingers, the juice from her cunt slick and plentiful.
Her nakedness and Mayson’s clothed body. The rising heat in the room. The leap of her breasts with each movement of Mayson’s fingers.
Fatimah gripped her arm. Fingers sinking into the skin. That pain joined the nearly unbearable fullness between Mayson’s thighs, her pussy molten from the noises the woman made. Fatimah threw her head back, screaming. Her pussy clutched and spasmed around Mayson’s fingers. Thick juice rushed down her fingers.
Fatimah’s breathing sounded loud in the room. “Oh my god, that was—that was perfect.” She laughed into Mayson’s neck.
The soft breath fanned against her sensitive skin, sending goose bumps dancing down her chest. She pulled Fatimah from the back of the sofa away from the living room and up the stairs.
“We’re not done yet.”
Thanks for welcoming me to your blog, Adriana. It’s been a pleasure.
To find out more about Fiona, go here:
On Twitter @fionazedde