Monday, 30 December 2013

The Girl With The Curves

The girl with the curves! Sometimes life seems straightforward, but what happens when there are curves along the way. Does it seem fair that some get the straight road and others the winding road?

When curvy Harley finally gets the job of her dreams after twenty job applications, she’s in for a big surprise. Sebastian Forrest, her new boss is the man she’d love to hate. For a while Sebastian goes against her and makes her feel like she isn’t good enough, but there’s a reason, and soon Harley will find out why.

The road isn’t straightforward and the more Harley gets to know Sebastian the more her heart warms to him. But soon she finds out something that takes her back to her bitter past and forces her to ask some difficult questions.

The girl with the curves is the first in the series of Positive Curves.


Just then the doorbell rang. Harley squinted at her watch, it was almost eight thirty.
‘Who on earth?’ Harley dragged herself to the door. ‘Oh my god, what’s happened?’
Amber fell into her arms and let out the loudest howl scaring poor Buttercup to find refuge under the couch.
‘He left meeeeee!’ The cry was deep and painful. ‘He left meeee!’ The tears poured down Amber’s pretty face.
‘Come, sit down.’ Harley led her best friend into the living room and sat her down.
For a moment she watched her strong and independent friend turn into a dependent and weak woman. It made no sense at all, she was the strong one, the one who never bowed down to anyone. If Harley had learnt anything about confidence she’d learnt it from Amber.
Amber had gone onto to work for a solicitor’s office. She’d turned into a strong and powerful career woman but had suddenly turned into a marshmallow.
‘Honey start from the beginning.’ Harley reached for a box of tissues that sat on the coffee table.
Amber pulled two bits of the absorbent paper and blew her nose profusely.
‘Itssss Kyle….he left meeeeee!’ The tears started up again and she sounded like a choking engine.
‘Oh gosh, why what happened?’ Harley hadn’t been under the impression they’d been in trouble.
Kyle was Amber’s solicitor boyfriend. He worked in a different department but for the same company. He was handsome but nothing striking and Harley had often wondered what Amber had seen in the guy in the first place. Kyle was arrogant and sarcastic; dining out with him was like scrubbing a brillo pad against ones skin.
‘He said.’ She sniffed and straightened up. ‘That it just wasn’t working.’
‘What wasn’t working?’
‘Did you ask him why?’
She nodded.
‘He gave me that line, it’s not you it’s me…I just need to play the field a bit more. I feel as though you’re suffocating me.’
‘Jerk!’ Harley was hardly surprised; he was never one to deliver bad news delicately.
‘What am I going to dooooo!’ The tears erupted again.
Harley took both Amber’s hands into hers and waited for the cries to die down. When only a few sniffs were heard, Harley stood up and made her way to the kitchen; pulled out a giant tub of chocolate ice-cream from the fridge and picked up two desert spoons.
‘Here.’ Harley handed her a spoon and put the tub between them.
‘I can’t eat that, I’ll get bigger. Lips to hips.’ She tried to smile.
‘Oh honey please. Listen to yourself. You and I both know we’ve got big booties, we are never going to look like Victoria Secret models, so eat.’ Harley popped open the yummy ice-cream. ‘Come on, why try and be something you’re not? Your words not mine.’ She took the first scoop and took it into her mouth.
A smile crept up on Amber’s face and soon she was digging into the creamy ice-cream too.
‘I hate men!’ Amber screeched.
‘Hmmm, but we love them too!’ Harley thought back to her boss. He was the sexiest man she’d ever set eyes on and yet she couldn’t stand to be near him.
‘Doesn’t it just annoy you?!’ Amber dug the spoon into the tub and brought out a big blob of ice-cream.
‘They think they rule the world!’
‘I’m assuming you mean your boss in particular?’
‘I don’t get that guy. Why the hell did he hire me if he doesn’t want any input from me?’
‘Honey it looks good on the books.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean? I worked damn hard to get to where I am.’
‘Why don’t you leave?’
‘And go where? I’m probably already past my sell by date.’
‘Oh don’t be so hard on yourself. There will be someone who will appreciate you.’
‘I don’t think I can handle another string of interviews.’
‘Hmmm there’s that.’
‘I’ll be competing with a new set of graduates.’
‘You’ll have experience behind you.’
Harley pondered on these things, would it be that difficult to get another job. Her thoughts drifted to the time she’d begun to job hunt, it hadn’t been very uplifting, more soul destroying.
‘I’ll stick with it for a while longer. Maybe when I’ve more experience I could freelance.’
‘Good idea.’
Soon the talk died down and the pair watched some television. Buttercup came out of under her hiding place and made herself comfortable between them. Two hours later, Amber asked if she could stay over.
‘I really don’t want to be alone tonight.’
‘Yeah sure, take the spare room.’
Amber had done that many times before.
‘Just be aware I’m out the house very early. I’m covering a court case late morning.’
‘So why the early start? Can’t you just head straight there?’
‘The boss wants to have a word with me.’
‘My thought’s exactly. It’s never good news behind his closed doors.’

They parted to their separate rooms at the top of the stairs. Soon the nightmare of work would start.

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Sunday, 1 December 2013

One Flesh By Annabeth Leong

Leticia and Rosalie are planning their wedding, wanting very much to make their special day one to remember, but Rosalie has something else weighing on her mind, one more thing she wants to make as special and as memorable as the ceremony itself—their wedding night. Rosalie wants to be with Leticia in a way that neither of them had ever been with anyone else. But finding something that would be a first time for both of them turns out to be harder than expected.

As it turns out, there is one thing Leticia has wanted to do but has never trusted anyone enough to allow herself to overcome the fear of it. And it's something that Rosalie has never done either.

The women discuss the idea of fisting as a means of connecting and forming an intimate bond with each other, one that they've never formed with anyone else. They've never loved or trusted anyone else they way the love and trust each other, and they are determined to find a way to make it work.


"I'll call tomorrow to tell the church how many flowers we want to order," Leticia said, sighing and folding her notebook closed. No matter how many neat lists she made with her favorite purple pen, the sheer quantity of wedding-related details was overwhelming. "Can you call the caterer back, Rosalie? I still feel like they sneaked a charge in somewhere, but I can't get a straight answer out of them about it."

Her fiancée smiled indulgently. "Better yet. I'll go in person on my lunch break, and they won't know what hit them."

"Great." Leticia rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. She'd wanted to go to bed early, but another evening of wedding planning had made that completely impossible. She was excited to be marrying her one true love and all, but it was easy to lose track of that when she had fourteen phone calls to make and her mother demanded an e-mailed progress report every single night. "That's got to be enough for now."

Leticia stole a quick glance at Rosalie. She'd changed into a cute pair of pajamas when she got home from work, the childish pattern an odd contrast with her sophisticated coppery makeup. Leticia briefly fantasized about peeling the clothing away, revealing her lover's curves and smooth brown skin. Unfortunately, at that very same moment, she had to stifle a yawn. She was so damn sleepy. They would need to get to bed immediately if she was going to give Rosalie proper attention.

"We can't quit planning yet," Rosalie said. "We haven't discussed the most important thing, and it's coming up soon."

Leticia groaned. She flipped her notebook open again and paged through her color-coded, highlighted lists. "We've talked about everything I had listed for the day, and we even went over things that have deadlines coming up in the next few days. I don't see what we're—"

"The wedding night," Rosalie purred. "We haven't discussed that at all."

There was no mistaking the sparkle in her eyes. Leticia actually blushed, the way she had at Rosalie's makeup counter the first time they met, when the other woman's soft words of praise, roughened by the obvious desire in her voice, had gotten Leticia so hot and flushed it had been impossible to identify the correct shade of foundation for her skin tone. She'd been forced to come back later, not that she'd minded.

Now that she'd figured out what Rosalie was hinting at, Leticia played innocent. For all her lover's passion, her Catholic upbringing had left her with an adorable aversion to using direct language. Leticia loved to watch Rosalie get flustered while trying to explain her naughty desires. She batted her eyelashes and focused on her notes again. "We've reserved our hotel room the night of. We've got our plane tickets to Puerto Rico for the honeymoon a couple days after that. Everything appears to be in order."

"The wedding night," Rosalie said, apparently oblivious to Leticia's teasing. She rolled her hands through the air, one over the other, the gesture an invitation to take the word "night" and run with it. "The whole reason I wanted an afternoon wedding was so we could have plenty of time together. Afterward. In the hotel."

"You mean to take a good, long nap? I'm sure we'll be tired after dealing with all the guests, and coming down from pre-wedding nerves, too." Leticia couldn't resist continuing the act.

"Not a nap. But I am talking about what we might do in bed." Now Rosalie colored, a deep red undertone becoming visible beneath the screen of her makeup.

Leticia composed her face as much as she could manage and shrugged. "Oh, are you talking about sex?" A giggle threatened to slip through at Rosalie's incredulous, exasperated expression. "I don't know. I've read tons of articles about how people get so exhausted from all the things leading up to a wedding that they don't even really want to have sex by the time the day is done. We'll have plenty of time for that later in the honeymoon, won't we?"

"Don't even really want to have sex," Rosalie repeated slowly, as if the phrase was a math problem and she couldn't quite work it out. Her forehead wrinkled in utter puzzlement. A snort burst from Leticia. Realization dawned on Rosalie's face. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the table and tossed it at her. They'd both collapsed in giggles by the time the thin paper floated airily to the floor beside Leticia.

Leticia allowed the force of her laughter to pull her off the chair. She crawled the short space to Rosalie's chair and raised one brown foot to her lips. Leticia did enjoy a little foot worship now and then, but her current mood was far from reverent. Slowly, carefully, she slipped her mouth over Rosalie's polished big toe. She licked until Rosalie's breathing changed, confused between laughter and moaning. Then Leticia lifted off the toe and pressed her mouth to the sole of Rosalie's foot. She inhaled, gripped the ankle tightly, and blew a powerful raspberry.

Rosalie squealed and tried to get away. Leticia smiled but kept up the wet, ticklish vibrations. Rosalie's foot jerked in her hands. Leticia kept hold easily. She had plenty of practice restraining patients, which happened to have fun applications at home.

Rosalie writhed as she laughed. Leticia drew breath for another raspberry, but cut her eyes up as much as she dared. She didn't want to miss the sight of her lover, breasts bouncing under her shirt as her rib cage shook, hips rolling as she struggled to get away, face squeezed tight as if to ward off the unbearable sensation of being tickled. Effectively, this previewed Rosalie's orgasm. Warm arousal spread through Leticia's body as she forced Rosalie to stay in this state, and as she looked forward to seeing the real thing very soon.

Rosalie rained playful blows onto Leticia's head. "Why the hell am I marrying you?" It took forever for her to get the sentence out, as she had to gasp each word between shrieking laughs.

Leticia grinned and tugged at her lower legs. Her lover took the hint and rolled out of the chair to join her on the floor. Leticia wrapped her arms around Rosalie, who felt small and hot and curvy. She slipped one hand down to tickle between her ribs, rewarded by another delicious howl. Rosalie shoved at her chest. "You are evil, I swear."

"I'm sorry," Leticia said softly, managing to sound sincerely regretful. She kissed Rosalie's temples with great tenderness, until her lover relaxed and stopped wriggling. Leticia murmured more soothing words, rubbing Rosalie's back... then licked the side of her face.

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Annabeth Leong has written erotica of many flavors—dark, romantic, kinky, vanilla, straight, lesbian, bi, and menage. Her lesbian stories have appeared in the Lambda Literary Award-nominated Lesbian Cops, Circlet Press's love-spell anthology Like Hearts Enchanted, Lovecraftian erotica book Whispers In Darkness, and others. When not writing erotica, she is frequently reading it. She has lived in six states in various parts of the United States, and traveled to most of the others. Annabeth believes passionately in freedom of speech, rights for people of all sexual orientations, and the need for compassionate religion. She loves shoes, stockings, cooking, and excellent bass lines