Thursday, December 20, 2012
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Friday, December 7, 2012
"Erotic means giving sexual pleasure or sexually arousing, while exotic means being or from or characteristic of another place or part of the world or strikingly strange or unusual. Those two words are what describe the twenty-one superbly crafted stories of seduction that comprise "Seductress", a 244 page compendium ably compiled and deftly edited by D. L. King (publisher and editor for the adult web site EroticaRevealed.com and co-founder of Las Vegas' annual 'Sin City' erotica conference. Showcasing various incarnations of succubi, this is a seminal anthology of impressive literary merit and highly recommended to the attention of a mature readership."
Midwest Book Review
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
“Oh, that does feel good. Please don’t stop!”
Warm fingers massaged the nape of my neck, kneading and circling in small, firm movements. I felt my tension melt away. The girl laughed.
“Some people come here just for this alone.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me, Kara!”
Tepid water coursed over the crown of my head.
“Could you make it hotter?”
“Aren’t you warm enough? Well, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, sweetie.”
Smooth, lightly scented skin brushed my cheek as the girl reached forward to adjust the faucet behind my head. It had to be at least six months since I’d been in for a haircut. I felt almost guilty, cringing inwardly as Kara raised a perfect eyebrow at my split ends. What a gorgeous girl she was, ‘though. A perfect figure. Large, firm breasts and smooth, round hips. She usually wore skin-tight jeans and a loose-necked style of top, so that you could admire her cleavage when she bent to squirt the shampoo onto your hair. I envied her hair, a lush curling waist-length mass that varied in hue from dazzling auburn to jet black, depending on Kara’s mood du jour.
“So, what can I do for you today, Mrs B?”
God, she made me feel like a senior citizen. OK, so I wasn’t twenty-something like the lovely K, but I wasn’t ready for the scrap-yard yet. I gave my usual response.
“Just trim it to shoulder length, cut me some bangs and add as much volume as you can, thanks.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to try something new?”
I stared longingly at the deep crevasse of golden skin before my eyes. Kara’s breasts wobbled as she briskly massaged the shampoo through my saturated locks. I had an intense urge to reach up and squeeze them. Her fiance was one lucky guy. I sighed softly.
It’s not always wise to give your stylist free rein but I felt in the mood for taking a chance. Kara started to rinse off the suds, the water nice and hot, just the way I like it.
“Well, what about going a bit shorter than your regular style and adding some color? It doesn’t have to be permanent, so if you don’t like it, it’ll wash out over a few shampoos.”
The young girl looked down at me with an appraising eye.
“You actually have quite a bit of red in your natural shade, so I’d suggest a light auburn tint. I think you’ll love it and it’ll really bring out those lovely blue eyes.”
I blushed. God help me, I actually went as red as the hue the stylist proposed! Things were really heating up in the salon.
“Are you sure the water isn’t too warm, Mrs B? You’ve gone rather pink.”
“It’s just perfect, thank you, Kara. And I think I’ll go with your ideas.”
The heat in my cheeks intensified as the girl applied a dollop of conditioner and smoothed it sensuously over my squeaky-clean tresses. I looked blissfully up into a rather concerned pair of green eyes.
“You’re not having a hot flash are you, Mrs B? Would you like a glass of water?”
“I haven’t reached that stage of life yet, Kara. I’m just fine.”
It was the young girl’s turn to color.
“Oops! Foot in mouth disease. But it does happen to women in their thirties, you know. My cousin…”
“Light auburn, you say? Can I see a shade chart?”
It was rude of me to interrupt but I’ve battled raging hormones for nearly three decades and the novelty of the topic has long since worn off. Kara entered obedient servant mode and fetched me a chart. I sat up as she swathed my head and shoulders in a towel and vigorously rubbed me dry. A dizzying selection of colored hair swatches greeted my curious eye. How on earth could I select the right one for me?
“I think I’m going to need some help, Kara. I don’t want anything too bright.”
We left the basin and headed for the big swivel chair in front of the gilt-edged mirror. As usual, I tried to avoid my reflection in the glass. It’s not that I’m ugly – far from it, or so I’ve been told – but the bright overhead light is so unflattering. Kara flipped through the hair samples with a critical gaze. Finally, she selected one.
“I think we should try Vavoom!”
“Well, it certainly has a wonderful name. Let’s have a look.”
Kara laid the swatch against my cheek, nodded in satisfaction, then showed me the soft light auburn strands. Suddenly, I felt a surge of excitement, a sense of new and thrilling potentials opening up at the hint of a tint. A change of hair color is like that, if it’s a well selected choice.
“I think I’ll take you in the back, Mrs B. The beautician doesn’t have a client right now and it’s much more relaxing than the main salon.”
Slightly surprised, I let the stylist lead me, draped in my plastic cape and towel, through a warren of cubicles to a small pink room with a state of the art reclining chair. Kara closed the door and, to my vague concern, locked it behind us. She smiled reassuringly.
“Don’t want us to be disturbed. You’re rather tense, Mrs B. I’d like to offer you a special relaxing treatment free of charge. I’ll do your hair too, of course. But first, I want to try out some special techniques I’ve been learning at home.”
I realized my mouth was hanging open like a fish and promptly closed it. Kara handed me a thick toweling robe and gestured to a screen.
“If you’ll just take off your clothes and put this robe on. This is all right with you, isn’t it, Mrs B? You do have time?”
“Yes, I suppose so, Kara. But tell me – what does this treatment involve?”
The young woman smiled.
“If you don’t mind, Mrs B, I’d like that to remain a surprise. I just know you’ll find it very helpful. Relaxing.”
Hmm. There was something about the way the minx was looking at me. Had she sensed my desire to lavish attention on her luscious boobs? Surely not. I was imagining things. I stepped behind the pretty floral screen and took off my clothes, feeling as nervy and awkward as a patient at a gynecology clinic. The luxurious robe allayed my fears, however, super-thick, baby soft and lightly rose scented. Lovely. I crept out from behind the screen and lay down on the long leatherette chair. Kara appeared to be fiddling with some kind of electronic box. She turned off the bright overhead light, leaving just a soft pink glow from a silk shaded lamp. Mmm, I was already beginning to relax, with the comfortable seat and the gentle, perfumed atmosphere. The stylist leaned over me and I realized, with a sudden shock, that she was unwrapping the toweling robe.
“I just want to see. Don’t worry, Mrs B. Please relax. This is going to be wonderful, I promise.”
I held my breath as Kara exposed my naked torso. I have a very average kind of body, a bit plump around the tummy and hips. Quite large breasts of the soft and wobbly variety. Remembering that I had shaved my pussy the night before, I blushed again, glancing furtively down at my round pink Mound of Venus. The stylist turned to the little electronic box. A soft hum commenced as she turned a dial. Then she picked up what seemed to be a round headed massaging device, attached to the box by a curly cord.
“You see, Mrs B, there is more than one kind of Vavoom. This is number two.”
Kara leaned over me, her boobies bulging almost in my face. I relaxed, deciding to enjoy the joyous vista sans guilt. After all, what did I have left to hide? The young woman applied the vibrating massage head to my shoulders. The moment the soft rubber cushion met my flesh it was as if we were intimately connected, Kara and I. Her breasts jiggled perfectly in time with the tiny circular motions her hand performed upon my yielding skin. It felt divine and I told her so. She smiled in satisfaction.
“I just knew you’d love it, Mrs B.”
Soft, springy curls of russet hair brushed my nipples and I felt a tiny drop of love-juice ease its way over my plump, nude labia. Kara was going to drive me crazy with this therapy of hers. I wanted to open my thighs to her. I was desperate for her to lower her crimson lips to nuzzle my clit. Suddenly, it occurred to me that she had asked me to lie face-up and, surely, such a massage would normally be done in the reverse position. Hmmm. Maybe there was more to the young lady than met the eye… The whirring rubber cushion completed its shoulder-loosening task and headed south. I gasped as the buzzing sensation edged its way to the outer limits of my right breast. Was she really going to give me such an intimate massage?
“Breast massage is becoming quite popular these days. Stimulating the circulation seems to ease the symptoms of PMS. Would you like to try it, Mrs B?”
I swallowed hard and almost squeaked out an affirmative response. Would Kara gossip about me in the staff room? That lesbian pervert Mrs Bright. Well, too bad. She had started it! My right boob began to wobble outrageously, ecstatic sensations coursing through my blissed-out bod. It was too much. How could the girl keep a straight face, I wondered, as I watched the stylist carefully apply the massage-head to my large pink tits. It resembled an earthquake in Jello. Carefully, Kara cupped my breast in her free hand, holding it gently as she moved the rubber cushion round and round. My nipples stood to attention, fully erect. My pussy was slick, creamy, juicy. I lay in an agony of ecstasy, a helpless victim to the pretty girl with the electronic box.
“I think I’ll turn it up a bit. You do seem to be benefiting, Mrs B.”
I bit my lip as the buzz intensified and Kara switched to my other breast. Instead of moving around the chair, she leaned further over me, almost tipping her bountiful cleavage into my face. I decided that she was a sadist and was on the verge of telling her so, when she paused to reach for a large pink bottle labeled “Crème de Aphrodite”. With a flick of her wrist she squirted a copious dollop of divinely scented mousse onto my chest and began to massage it all over my tit. I couldn’t help myself. I had an orgasm. I tried to suppress it, really I did, but I might as well have attempted to stop the tide. I glanced up at the stylist, feeling desperately guilty as the inner contractions ebbed away. Had she noticed? Smooth warm fingers kneaded my melony mounds, spreading the lovely moisturizing mousse. My boobs glistened. Kara looked pleased.
“I think you’re going to see a big improvement, Mrs B. Now, just turn over and I’ll do your other side.”
I eased myself out of the loosened robe and lay back down on my front. The smooth warm fingers rested on the small of my back.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice what happened then, Mrs B.”
I felt my face grow scarlet and was quite pleased that it was hidden from the girl. Her hand began to caress my buttocks and I moaned softly.
“I should spank you, shouldn’t I? Would you like it if I did?”
I was hearing things. I had to be hallucinating. The electronic pulsing had fried my nervous system and addled my brain. I ground my hips against the warm soft surface of the leatherette chair. Almost involuntarily, I pushed my big plump bottom up towards the stylist’s hand. I adore being spanked. But I’d never been spanked by another woman.
“Naughty, Mrs B!”
Kara’s voice was mildly taunting, very amused. Suddenly, she brought the palm of her hand down smartly against the sensitive under-shelf of my naked rear. I yelped, more from surprise than pain. It was deliciously stingy.
“Having an orgasm in the beauty salon!”
The stingy sensation repeated itself. I squirmed, parting my thighs and beginning to make fucking motions on the chair. I desperately needed further release. Kara began to spank me quite hard, one hand on my back, the other slapping my wobbling buttocks fast and sharp.
“I’ll expect a decent tip after this session!”
I mumbled promises of generosity into the chair. I was coming again. My bottom felt hot and happy. It was way too long since I’d last been spanked. As my second orgasm began to break, the young girl pushed her heated fingers deep inside my pulsing cunt.
“Is that better, Mrs B? I bet that feels good. Turn over again and we’ll finish your treatment.”
I let her take me to a third and final high, her deft, strong fingers spreading my copious juice around and about my swollen clit. I was like putty in the young woman’s hands. She could do anything with me. This was therapy indeed. I lay well-oiled and gasping like a fish out of water, as Kara wrapped me in a heated towel.
“I trust I can put you down for a monthly session, Mrs B?”
The minx. We hadn’t even started on my new hairstyle. I’d need to take out a loan to pay my salon bills if the girl kept this up. A monthly session? Why, I’d have a daily one if I could afford it…
“So, that was Vavoom 2.”
“Just wait ‘til we do your hair. You’re going to be a new woman!”
I eased myself up from the oily chair. I could have happily stayed there all day, so deep was my sense of relaxation.
“That’s wonderful, Kara. Well, I suppose I did need a bit of a lift!”
The young woman gestured to the floral screen.
“Just get back into your clothes and we’ll head into the salon for your color and cut.”
I limped over to the screen, having a bit of trouble regaining the use of my legs. She was potent stuff, Miss Kara. Stifling a giggle, I wondered if it would be safe to ask her for a bikini wax…