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Snippet from ‘Lovely Rita’

August 14, 2014 by Harper Bliss Leave a Comment

Can't Get Enough

As promised last week, here’s a teaser from my story ‘Lovely Rita’ which appears in Tenille Brown’s Can’t Get Enough. The looks of the Rita from the title are based on those of a real life famous-person Rita (but not Rita Mae Brown ;-p), but really, you’d need to read the story to (possibly) guess who. 😉

As a reminder, here’s the blurb for Can’t Get Enough:

Picking up where Gotta Have It left off, Can’t Get Enough captures the passion and intensity of quickies and nooners: those delicious times when the urge to merge takes over. Veteran erotica author and first-time editor Tenille Brown has collected stories for Can’t Get Enough that highlight the essence of insatiable desire. With contributions from familiar names like Rachel Kramer Bussel, Jacqueline Applebee and Giselle Renarde, along with newer faces like Monica Corwin and Beatrix Ellroy, this is a book full of diverse and dynamic characters who are bold and daring. The authors here knock the theme of Can’t Get Enough right out of the park with stories that will leave readers as breathless as the characters they’re reading about, dying for more.

And here’s my teaser snippet:

Sweat trickled down my temples as I danced for the first time in months. I didn’t care if Rita showed up. I boogied myself into a state of indifference I’d been craving for weeks. Pushing my arms above my head, I relished the predatory looks my exposed belly button received. Being declared too monogamous for Rita’s standards didn’t spoil me for this crowd. Just because I wasn’t one for sharing loved ones, didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the thrill of a one-night stand.

A girl dressed in black leather pants and not much else swayed closer to me. I’d been working on my abs tirelessly since Rita left me, and now they were working for me. She pressed her hips into my behind and left them there, finding the rhythm with me. I guess you could call it dancing.

“Want a beer?” she yelled into my ear over the thundering bass.

I spun around to get a good look at her face. Hair tied back in a loose ponytail, some curls springing free. Intense black eyes and no makeup on her face. Zero resemblance to Rita.

“Yes, please.” I shot her a smile. I was out of practice and fairly certain the sexy grin I was aiming for looked more like an insecure smirk, but she nodded and headed for the bar. I exhaled and brushed a strand of hair away from my forehead.

That’s when I saw her.

Important note: It should be quite clear from the pair of men’s legs on the cover, but Can’t Get Enough is NOT a lesbian erotica anthology (although quite a few stories explore the delights of lady loving, including mine, of course.)

You can buy Can’t Get Enough from Cleis, Amazon and everywhere else you like to shop for smut.

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Anthologies, Can't Get Enough, Cleis Press, Lovely Rita, Short story, snippet, Tenille Brown

Sunday Snog: Personal Training

May 5, 2013 by Harper Bliss 2 Comments

It’s been scandalously long since I last posted a Sunday Snog. Let’s get the snogging train rolling again with a snippet from Personal Training, a brand new short story set in (you guessed it right) the gym.

Blurb
Jan works out people for a living, but one day her client Ali, the one she’s been lusting after for months, turns the tables on her and gives Jan the work out of a lifetime.

Maybe it’s the tension, but I can’t suppress a giggle bubbling up from my throat. “Any interest I have in your backside is purely professional,” I lie.

Her mouth widens in feigned surprise. She shakes her head and corners me next to the TRX cables. “Is there anything else I should know? Now that you’re being so honest.”

My back hits the wall and Ali is so close I can smell her. The scent of her sweat stirs something in my blood. When I dreamed of this moment, and I’ve spent hours picturing it, I was the one backing Ali into a corner. I was the one in command. I imagined it would come naturally to me. Now that the moment is here I feel I’m losing more control with every passing second. I respond by grabbing her arms and pulling her close.

Her breath warms my already flushed face. Her blue eyes bore into mine. As far as truth goes, I can only repeat my previous actions. I move my hands upwards, trailing my nails along the flesh of her arms, and pull her in.

This time, she responds to my kiss by parting her lips and allowing my tongue to slip into her mouth. She withdraws and traces a moist path to my ear with her lips. “You have no idea,” she whispers. And it’s true, I have no idea what she means. But I don’t care as I inhale her closeness and revel in it. My nipples harden under my top. They poke into the fabric of my sports bra and I can’t wait for them to be freed.

I make a play for Ali’s tank top, wanting to lift it and expose the abs we’ve been working on so hard, but she’s quick to intercept me. She grabs me by the wrists and, in one swift movement—as if it’s all she does in life—she pins my hands above my head.

Her eyes don’t leave mine. Her face is unreadable. Maybe this is what she does in life.

Do hop over to Victoria Blisse’s blog for more snogs!

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: gym, harper bliss, lesbian erotica, New release, Personal Training, Short story, Sunday Snog, Victoria Blisse

New Release: Champagne

March 19, 2013 by Harper Bliss Leave a Comment

Champagne by Harper Bliss At last, I’ve finished Champagne! Champagne is a short story I started serialising for Six Sentence Sunday a few months ago, but the demise of SSS and me starting the High Rise Series put a stop to its progress.

I’m releasing it today as a $0.99 lesbian short.

Here’s the blurb:
When Amanda spots a woman sipping champagne by herself in a bar at the mall, she is inexplicably drawn to her. She gives in to her instincts and tries to seduce her.

Here’s an extract:

I didn’t know her name, we hadn’t even kissed, but she felt so incredibly close. I held her gaze while she explored beneath the flimsy fabric of my panties. My jeans gaped wide open around the movement of her finger. Her nail scraped my skin as her finger travelled lower.

I inched closer, wanting to lean in for a kiss, but she tilted her head back, indicating kissing was not part of the deal.

“I need to see your eyes,” she said and, just like that, her finger grazed my clit.

My breath stopped for an instant as desire crashed its way through my flesh. Was I supposed to just stand there and take it? I let my hands fall down next to her, holding on to the windowsill for support. Her finger slid lower and connected with my wetness. My nipples grazed the silk of her blouse. Her moist champagne breath landed on my skin. Her lips stretched into the widest smile as she entered me, as deep as she could with the first stroke.

“Ah.” I clenched my fingers around the wood of the windowsill. Her eyes were still locked on mine. They seemed much darker than the bright green I’d seen earlier. She couldn’t be much closer, yet she was so far away, so distant. It only made me wetter.

Her palm skated along my clit as she delved in and out of me. It was hardly a gentle motion and it surely lacked any kind of finesse, but finesse was the last thing on my mind. The build-up wasn’t happening in my panties, it was taking place in her eyes. They narrowed every time she slipped back in, the tiny crow’s feet around them deepening with effort.

And here are the download links:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon DE
Amazon CA
Smashwords
Kobo
Rainbow eBooks
All Romance

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Champagne, harper bliss, lesbian erotic short story, lesbian erotica, lesbian short, New release, Short story

All of Me – FREE short story

September 7, 2012 by Harper Bliss Leave a Comment

It’s been a while since I posted a free short story, but I’m back with a really dirty one. It’s called All of Me and the whole 2355 words of it are about lesbian anal sex (inspired by this book). Yep, it’s Filthy Friday after all… Enjoy!

ALL OF ME
© Harper Bliss 2012

Sex with Laila was always dirty, but when she whispered in my ear mid-fuck that she’d be wanting my ass next, my pussy clutched itself around her hand so hard I expected her knuckles to come out bruised. I rode out my climax, my fingers lost in her raven-black hair as colours collided in my brain, my muscles flexing to the rhythm of her last strokes inside of me. Then she surprised me again by turning me over on my stomach, my backside bare and, seemingly, all hers. I’d gathered she meant next time she fucked me. I just hadn’t presumed that to happen so quickly.

Laila was in charge in the bedroom and in the kitchen, the two rooms of our flat where I was merely required to serve, to not take any initiative. I was a sous-chef at best in both places, but my pleasure always came first. I was well-fed and satisfied, living on a diet of expertly spiced dishes and my girlfriend’s delicious golden-brown fingers buried in my cunt at regular intervals. So far, she’d only teasingly ventured in the direction of my ass.

She covered my naked body with hers, her soft flesh moulding into mine.

“Your ass is mine tonight,” she hissed into my ear, while spreading my legs with her knee. I wondered what she meant with ‘mine’. Would she just lick it, finger it maybe, or rely on other objects? Or all of that combined? I knew better than to ask. In the bedroom, Laila did all the talking.

When she pushed herself away from my ear, her taut nipples grazed the skin of my back. They swirled patterns along my spine until they reached my ass cheeks. As Laila guided one nipple along my crack, and despite the slamming orgasm she’d just delivered, I felt myself go moist again. This was more than sex. This was breaking boundaries.

I gasped as she parted my cheeks and allowed her nipple to explore a little further. I imagined how the caramel of her skin—and the dark chocolate of her nipple—contrasted with the creamy whiteness of my behind. The gentle probing of her stiff bud was enough to make my asshole pucker with anticipation and, first time or not, to grant her unlimited access to the unchartered territory that my ass represented. Not that she would ever ask. Laila appropriated things. She took them because, within the dynamic of our sex life, they simply belonged to her. Our affair was not complicated. She fucked me and I came.

Her long hair tickled my back and, regardless of not being able to see her, I could easily imagine the smirk edged around her mouth. I’d witnessed it enough, usually with a few of Laila’s fingers sunk into me, to know its details by heart. Two fine lines bracketing her lips on the right as they curled up. Intensity burning in her eyes as she got off on my pleasure—and how I always, so easily, acquiesced.

She slipped one hand between my legs, under my pelvis, and found my clit, still a little sensitive from the previous round. Her nipple gently probed my crack while she circled a finger around my clit. Once, twice, just enough to make it perk up and want more, before retreating and focusing on my back door again. Laila was an expert at driving me crazy and, thus, at making me want things I never even knew existed before I met her—like a fist in my cunt and metal clamps on my nipples.

The room smelled of orgasms had and climaxes still to be bestowed. A heady perfume of anticipation blending with dirty delight.

On the way back up from teasing my clit, she coated her finger with juices dripping from my cunt. She traced a line from my pussy to my asshole and replaced her nipple with a wet fingertip. After dark, I always felt as if all of me belonged to Laila, no exceptions. That she could do whatever she wanted. Possess me, cuff me, whip me. This sensation multiplied by a hundred when she circled the meaty part of her finger along my most delicate passage. If Laila would ever ask me to marry her, this would be how she’d do it. By claiming me as hers, completely.

She entered slowly, letting my body adjust to the newness of what she was doing. My clit throbbed and my muscles tensed as the tip slipped in, invasive but welcome at the same time. I had no reference point for this, no prior experience to measure these sensations against. My asshole sucked at her finger as she pried deeper. I could hear her pant as she worked me with controlled excitement, which was pretty much the essence of Laila.

Before going deeper, she pulled out and started the circular motion again, drawing perfect circles around my rim. Laila knew me so well, as if she could read my body. She knew I’d be wanting more soon. I always wanted more of her.

This time, she pushed her finger in and out, just far enough to have me gasp for air every time she penetrated, stretching my asshole. No doubt preparing it for what was to come.

“I knew you’d like this,” she said, her voice dropping into that low register reserved for kinky activities. “You’re all mine now, babe.” As if I wasn’t already. “Mine,” she repeated, and widened me further by adding another finger.

I yelped, unprepared for the filling sensation, the thickness of two fingers I could easily take in my cunt—four or a fist were most common— surprising me from the back. But I took it like the good girl she knew I was.

Juices leaked from my pussy, bathing my clit in wetness. I wanted to reach out and rub it, to add to the pleasure I was experiencing from behind, but I was afraid to move. With two fingers, Laila had me pinned down, at her mercy beneath her. The only way she wanted me.

She explored me further, twisting her fingers every time she stroked me inside. Bright white stars popped up on the back of my eye-lids as I buried my head into the pillow. Surely, I couldn’t climax just by having her fingers in my ass. Either way, I was certain Laila wouldn’t let me. She was nowhere near done with me.

Stroking turned into thrusting while I felt her hair dance on my ass cheeks. I pictured the white globes of my butt being parted by her fingers, her brooding brown eyes staring down at me there. No one had ever seen me the way Laila had and I was fairly certain no one ever would.

Her hair slipped down my hips as she lowered herself and planted a tender kiss at the top of my crack. It stood in stark contrast to the way she was handling my asshole, ravaging it with her fingers at an increasingly merciless pace. If my hands had been anywhere near my clit, it would have been more than enough to propel me into another star-shattering orgasm.

She trailed a path of moist kisses along my butt cheek and, when reaching the top of its curve, bit into my flesh. Another shock ripped through my body, tightening my muscles and leaving me breathless. My pussy pulsed like crazy, roaring for attention, screaming for release.

I panted into the pillow as she withdrew her fingers, leaving my ass wanting more.

“On all fours,” she commanded and sparks coursed through my blood as I exposed my pussy to the musky air of our bedroom. I settled on my hands and knees and, looking back through my arms, searched for her eyes. I found darkness, pure sexual desire mixed with the will to possess. To have and to give.

She reached for the bedside table where we kept all our toys—her toys—and watched how, from beneath handcuffs and blindfolds, she unearthed a dildo. Not the biggest one she owned, but not the smallest one either.

My throat went dry at the sight of it. Two fingers seemed nothing compared to the hot pink silicone cock she was about to negotiate into my virgin ass. Luckily, she grabbed a bottle of lube on her way back to my rear, on her way back to deflowering me once and for all.

She squirted a generous amount of lube onto the toy, not caring that half of it spilled onto the sheets and her knees. I watched her bring the dildo to my ass and closed my eyes. I had no other option than to submit to darkness. She rubbed the cock along my crack, spreading the lube around. My muscles cramped when I felt the tip at my rim, not probing just yet, just familiarising itself, as if saying a polite hello before raiding me.

I braced myself for impact, but, instead of easing it gently into my ass, Laila rammed it into my soaking wet pussy first, coaxing a loud cry from my throat. My cunt reacted instantly, clamping itself around the slick shaft of the toy, sucking it in. My clit stood to attention, but Laila was much too clever to attend to it. I wasn’t at the edge yet, wasn’t ready to beg for release. And she hadn’t fucked my ass yet.

She kept slamming the cock into me and I bucked down hard, my thigh muscles straining to catch as much of it as possible. When my groans betrayed my level of excitement, she retracted and dragged the tip up to my crack.

I exhaled and tried to relax, my body trapped in a frenzy of lust and sweltering desire. I wanted it now. Wanted her to invade my ass. Wanted her to take all of me. She put a hot hand on my butt cheek while she positioned the dildo. It was warm and slick with my juices, ready to slip in. My asshole automatically widened at its touch, bidding it a warm welcome.

The head disappeared inside me easily, my body parting for Laila, and I heard her gasp with wonder. She must have been soaking wet, her juices leaking onto the fancy silk sheets she brought back after her last visit to Morocco. The dildo filled me to the brim as she pushed it deeper. Never in my life had I felt so owned, so enslaved to one person, so at her will.

As she started sliding the toy in and out of me with slow steady movements, my asshole relaxed, contracting and expanding around the girth of the dildo. A simmering fire stirred in my belly, setting off explosions in my blood. The stars on my eye-lids returned and this time they blazed brightly, absorbing me. My head spun through nothingness and everything as my body gave itself up to this new intrusion—as I surrendered.

“Touch yourself,” Laila groaned, her voice nothing more than tones of pure lust, syllables strung together by passion. Her command surprised me, but I guessed that, in subjecting me to her will in the way she was doing—a way she had never explored before but must have fantasised about a lot—she had amazed herself as well.

I let myself slip onto my shoulders, pushing my ass up higher, and shifted my weight to one side. My fingers couldn’t reach my engorged clit fast enough. My cunt flexed around nothing while I tended to the aching bud between my legs. Laila manoeuvred the dildo with more determination inside of me, out and in again, relentlessly driving me to new heights, taking more of me. I felt her free hand shake on my butt cheek as I trembled towards orgasm.

Galaxies collapsed in the darkness in front of my eyes, giving way to torrents of colour. I saw the brightest pink, the same colour as the dildo Laila was fucking me with. I saw myself, willing, loving it, shattering into rainbows as heat catapulted through me.

Feverishly, I worked my clit, rubbing it back and forth with my finger. The sensation of being filled to the brim, paired with the direct stimulation of my clit, was like bursting into heaven.

“Come on, baby,” Laila’s hoarse voice moaned. “Come for me now.” She knew I was waiting for her to let me. I always did. The muscles around my asshole started contracting of their own volition, pulsing electric sparks of pleasure through my bones. I found that perfect spot on my clit, the one that is always the most sensitive, and stroked myself to an obliterating climax. I came then, for Laila, filled with her love for me, and a hot pink dildo.

Carefully, she withdrew the toy and, drained of everything, I collapsed onto the bed. My entire body throbbed and I knew, in that moment, there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her—at least not in the two designated rooms of our house where she was the boss of me.

She poured her hot body over me, covering my sweat-soaked back with her chest, her limbs caressing every bit of my skin they could touch. As much as I loved the climax, the purely physical bit, this part, the magical aftermath, was always the best.

“I love you,” she said, her voice back to normal. Her mouth was buried in my hair, her breath barely reaching my ear. I knew I didn’t have to say it back. I’d just shown my love for her.

Her nipples, rigid as marbles, poked into my shoulder muscles. “Next time,” she continued. “I think I’ll strap on.” She slithered her body up my back until her lips found my ear. “I think you’re ready for double penetration.” She bit my ear lobe before relaxing her muscles, her body going soft on top of me. I could hardly wait.

That was the first time my girlfriend claimed my ass and took all of me. I’ve yielded ever since.

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: All of Me, free, Free short story, harper bliss, lesbian erotica, Short story

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