Well Colour Me Lustful and Give me a Laptop

A Guest Post by K D Grace

Picture Botticelli’s lovely painting of Venus and Mars. You know the one I’m talking about, the one that you just want to stand in front of all day staring and sighing and thinking romantic Renaissance thoughts.  Have you got that in your head? Good! Now picture the goddess in a black corset  and a bad-ass strap-on. And all those cherubs in the picture, well picture them as overworked servants of the goddess, whose job it is to hold the sex toys she’d not using at the moment and offer them to her with hot little hands … or wherever else she wants them to hold them.

Now then, as for Mars. Weeeell, picture Mars, or in this case Jack Calendar, dressed in a ratty track suit a pair of badly worn Nikes Add to that an aging Avengers t-shirt, and imagine Mars with a laptop instead of a sword and shield. Are you starting to get the idea?

Now then for the story that goes with our lovely Botticelli does DC Comics, think about a cross between The Big Bang Theory on steroids and The Corleones from The Godfather meet The Olympians from Greece – a truly dysfunctional family. The Olympians are moonlighting in London. Aphrodite has a head for business, and poor Jack Calendar has been caught peeking while the goddess of love does the nasty with …. well just about everyone! When Jack’s punishment for peeking is to be hired on as Aphrodite’s PA, he quickly discovers that his job demands special skills, Aphrodite is quick to offer on-the-job training. 

Aphrodite Gets a Piece of the Action can be downloaded as a stand-alone novella or it can be purchased with the other six sins in Sweetmeats Press’s fab new anthology, Seven Deadly Sins. This fabulous anthology contains stories by Lily Harlem, Sarah Masters, Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse, Lexie Bay, and Rebecca Bond. It’s illustrated by John LaChatte and edited by KoJo Black.

Blurb for Aphrodite Gets a Piece of the Action:

There’s no place to go but down when, against all odds, sexually inexperienced, nerd’s nerd, JACK CALENDAR gets shanghaied into being APHRODITE’s PA. And she has him going down a lot! Who could have guessed that the moonlighting Goddess of Love had head for business? The hours are long, the work is difficult and the Goddess is demanding and insatiable. Then there’s her family, who make the Corleones look like the Brady Bunch.

A PA’s work is never done, and Jack wasn’t hired for his impressive organizational skills. Nerdy Jack is at Aphrodite’s beck-and-call, because he’s the only mortal she has ever known with a lust powerful enough to match her own. Jack’s never had so much sex. He didn’t even know one could have so much sex – with someone other than themselves, that is. Just when he’s starting to get the hang of serving the goddess, Jack meets the husband, whose jealous temper is volcanic to say the least. Can Jack survive a run-in with the original dysfunctional family, or will he end up just one more manipulated mortal fucked by the gods?

Excerpt

‘Hey you! Ass-wipe! Don’t make me come up after you.’

Coming up wasn’t necessary. Startled, Jack lost his balance on the limb and fell out of the tree backward, his fall being slowed by the hard thwack, thwack, thwack of a half a dozen smaller, more supple branches before he hit the manicured lawn flat on his back leaving him winded and stunned.

‘Izzee dead?’ A voice hissed from somewhere above Jack’s prone, breathless body.

‘Course ‘es not dead. His cock’s still hard. Sonovabitch! Hat’s off to ‘im, I say.’

‘Don’t matter. When her dad gets through with him, he’ll wish he was dead.’

‘Shut up, you two. No one asked your opinion,’ a third voice said. Then the owner of that voice grabbed Jack by the arm and hauled him to his feet nearly dislocating his shoulder in the process. He found himself nose to nose to a man with perfectly coifed hair that looked like it came straight from an eighties cop show. And the rest of him looked like a poster boy for a hard core muscle mag, right down to the bad-ass eagle tat rippling up his bulging right bicep. If that wasn’t crazy enough, the man was wearing a toga, for chrissake! 

His pecs bulged and his nipples looked like they’d been clamped within an inch of their lives. And who the hell noticed a man’s nipples, Jack wondered, especially when Blondie’s old man was about to make him wish he were dead.

‘Tuck it in, Bub,’ Toga Man nodded to Jack’s cock which, embarrassingly enough, still offered a full frontal salute. He shoved and shifted it back into his track suit, but even then it led the way as he fell into step behind Toga Man with two black-suit security types flanking him. What the hell was the matter with him? He could die or worse and he still had enough wood to start a bonfire.

‘Big Z ain’t gonna be happy you watching his daughter do the dirty,’ the suit to his left spoke out of one side of his mouth.

‘You shut your pie-hole,’ Toga Man said. ‘You dunno what makes Big Z happy. Besides, she ain’t his daughter.’

Big Z? What the hell was this, Jack wondered, some kind of Mafioso toga party? They made their way through the enormous marble foyer of the house Jack hadn’t noticed being anywhere nearly so huge from his perch in the oak tree. But then it wasn’t the house he’d been looking at, was it? At last, Toga Man dismissed the Mafia-thugs and fast marched Jack, both hands protectively folded across the bounce, bounce, bounce of his erection, to another set of double doors at the end of a long hallway. He threw them open and with a hand on Jack’s shoulder, half shoved him into an opulent study. There, Jack found himself face to face with the bare ass of a bloke doing the nasty up the bumhole of another, a situation that didn’t prevent Toga Man from announcing loudly. ‘We found this scumbag up the oak tree watching Aphrodite.’

Buy Aphrodite Gets a Piece of the Action Now

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Glutton to Gourmet by Victoria Blisse.

Hello everyone, Victoria Blisse here! I hope you're all keeping well and enjoying the New Year. Who  here is on a diet? Maybe you've just vowed to eat a little lighter after the overindulgence of the festive period? Well, let me give you a wicked little treat in the form of my story Glutton to Gourmet available individually or as part of the Seven Deadly Sins Anthology.

Anabel has never known when to say ‘when’. But the dashing Roman shows her that quality is just as delectable as quantity, in the third tale from the Seven Deadly Sins collection.

And now a tempting little excerpt, if you're avoiding chocolate right now you may want to look away, although reading about it is completely calorie free you know!

“Look, we’ll go and have some fruit. Fruit is healthy, right? I’m going to dunk mine in a bit of chocolate but if you don’t want to you don’t have to.”“Okay,” I conceded. Fruit is healthy, I knew I needed to have it to get my vitamins and minerals and if I could eat a few cubes of pineapple and keep Roman happy without breaking my diet then it’d all be good. And I hoped there was a chance I’d still get laid even though I’d just given him a full showing of my neurotics.
It is very easy to refuse chocolate when you are nowhere near it but when you can see a silken waterfall of sweet cocoa goodness and smell its molten appeal it becomes much more difficult to resist.I was really good, I looked past the marshmallows and the chunks of fudge and I speared a juicy looking strawberry."Good choice." Roman nodded and pushed his freshly speared mallow into the flow of gooey goodness. "I love strawberries."I watched transfixed as he opened his mouth, held his head back and dropped the chocolate treat inside without spilling a drop. He moaned and masticated  and I felt a dampening in my mouth and my knickers. Maybe Roman was on to something; watching someone else eat is sexy."Please, Belle, you'll make me blush."
"Sorry," I gasped and lowered my gaze to the floor. It was me who blushed from the intense heat that gathered in my cheeks."I was only pulling your leg, beautiful. Do you want some chocolate on your strawberry? It's a lovely combination."I meant to shake my head, I did, I promise but my head dipped and lifted and I swear it did it independently of thought. Damn chocolate, it addles my brain."Here," he grabbed my hand and pulled it towards the fountain, "it's flowing the thickest just there."I watched in a trance as the bright red of my healthy treat dipped into the glossy brown chocolate until most of it was covered. I didn’t move, Roman dictated what I did and it was his hand that guided mine round until the strawberry butted against my lips.
“Quickly,” he gasped, hauntingly pale eyes focused on me, “before it drips.”I opened my lips and felt the bulbous fruit push in. Roman watched intently and I imagined it was his cock that I sucked eagerly. The chocolate coated my mouth and throat, reminding me of its decadent comfort that I had neglected for so very long. I was overwhelmed by the blast of familiar creamy sweetness and I moaned, low,soft and deep. Roman bit his lower lip and scrunched his eyes tight closed as if it was all too much for him.
I chewed through the soft, fruity nugget and enjoyed the fresh blast of strawberry juice after the cloying chocolate.
“Belle, you missed a bit.” Roman pointed down to a point below my chin, before I could look or respond he’d bent his head and  lapped up the spillage from my exposed skin, just below my collarbone.
I held myself stock still; desire shot through my veins, shock mellowed into sexual heat and I didn’t push him away. People were probably watching but I didn’t care.
“That’s better,” he licked his lips and went back to the chocolate fountain.  I didn’t dip anything else, Roman did it all for me. We shared everything. Tart pineapple, softly giving marshmallow.
I gloried in the sweetness, the decadence and overall his touch. He licked my lips clean, caught drips with his tongue and disappeared into my cleavage to retrieve warm drops I am sure he’d angled to fall there in the first place.
 Then as he finished off a chocolate dunked marshmallow and a stream of the molten goodness slipped down onto his lower lip I kissed it clean, sucking until I could taste chocolate no more.
Roman kept our lips connected as he held me close and pulled me tighter for our first proper kiss. And what a kiss, chocolate soaked and passionate our lips danced erotically. I forgot where we were and threw my all into my response. When finally we separated, both panting, chests heaving I noticed several people staring.
“Let’s go.” Roman pulled on my hand and I followed him.  I waved to Janet as he dragged me to the door. She smiled and stuck both her thumbs into the air.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Somewhere I can fuck you properly.” 

Yes, I am a wicked Temptress but if you read Glutton to Gourmet you'll find out that sometimes you've just got to give in and enjoy something decadent and delicious!

The Sweetest Revenge

I won't repeat the story of how this anthology came to be, if you scroll down and check out Lily's post, she's divulged all the details ;)

But what I will say is how much fun it was to write my particular story. When I snagged the sin "pride" for my story, I had no idea what I was going to do with it. Lily had suggested I penned a lesbian tale and so I fixed that in my mind. Then, one day when I was walking my dog, the idea came to me. I continued thinking as I walked, and by the time I got home again, I pretty much knew what I was going to do. I had other projects to finish up before I could start the story, but that gave it time to marinade in my brain.

Finally, I started writing The Sweetest Revenge. And once I started it, I think I had it finished pretty quickly, too. My sexy Sapphic tale about a smokin' hot biker chick and the girl that fancies her was born!

Here's the blurb:


Abigail’s had a crush on Mackenzie the motorcycle courier for months, but Mackenzie doesn’t even know she exists. Nothing exists for Mackenzie, though, except for her pride and joy – her Ducati Monster.

After an unpleasant encounter, Abigail decides to get her own back on Mackenzie – in the worst possible way. Despite the pleas of her colleagues, Abigail plans to hide Mackenzie’s precious motorbike, and take the haughty bitch down a peg or two.

Naturally, when Mackenzie discovers her bike is gone, there are fireworks. It’s April 1st, so she suspects trickery rather than criminal activity, but that doesn’t mean the person responsible will be getting off lightly…

And a snippet from the book:


As soon as she heard the roar of the engine, Abigail’s heart rate increased. She could recognise it at quite some distance now, and as it drew closer to her office building, she could feel the vibrations beneath her feet.

Grabbing a handful of documents from the pile on her desk, Abigail headed over to the photocopier which stood by the window. That way, she could pretend she was duplicating paperwork, when in fact she was looking out of the window at the motorcycle and its rider.

And there she was. Mackenzie, in all her leather-clad glory, thundering into the car park. Her beautiful red hair flapped beneath the helmet, slowing to a stop as the motorcycle did. The khaki green mean machine, as Abigail had nicknamed it, was as stunning as ever. Between them, rider and bike made a very attractive picture. One Abigail could quite happily look at all day long.

She realised she hadn’t actually made any attempt to photocopy anything yet, so she hastily shoved one of the pieces of paper under the lid, keyed in the command for thirty copies and pressed the green button. Then she was free to gaze out of the window for a good long while before anyone suspected anything.

Not that it was any big secret, anyway. The entire office knew of Abigail’s crush on the motorcycle courier, and she was often teased about it. The only reason she wasn’t being ribbed right there and then was because nobody else was tuned into the motorcycle’s engine noise frequency like she was—they wouldn’t have realised Mackenzie was here unless they looked out of the window. Glancing behind her, Abigail saw that everyone was engrossed in what they were doing, so she could perv out of the window, completely undisturbed and without mockery.

Turning back, she saw that Mackenzie had now put the Ducati Monster on its stand and flung one long leg over it. She tugged off her heavy duty leather gloves, lay them on the seat and proceeded to undo her helmet. Abigail held her breath. This bit was always her favourite. The way the younger woman managed to still look gorgeous when removing a motorcycle helmet was incredible. Her long red hair flowed free, and after a couple of quick finger-combs, it looked immaculate. For the hundredth time, Abigail wondered what her secret was. She was sure if she went on a motorcycle without tying her hair back, it would look like a rat’s nest by the time she arrived anywhere.

Clipping the helmet’s chin-strap back together, the courier then hung it from one of the handlebars, pulled the keys from the ignition and moved to the box attached to the back of the bike. She unlocked it, retrieved two small parcels and shut and locked the lid before retrieving the keys and walking towards the front door of the building. She wore sensible, rather than fashionable, boots and leathers and they lent her walk a strange gait. Abigail didn’t care. She was so infatuated with the woman that it would take more than that to put her off.

She watched as Mackenzie made her way into the building and was eventually lost from sight. Switching her attention to her fake photocopying, she saw that the dated machine was still chugging its way through the original thirty copies she’d requested. She grinned. At this rate, it’d still be going by the time the courier exited the building and got back on her bike. If there was someone at Reception, then of course the process of having a parcel signed for was speedy. Usually, that’s what happened. But occasionally if there was some super-sensitive reason no one else could handle the delivery, the member of staff it was for would have to come and sign for it themselves. That, of course, meant it could take much longer, depending on whereabouts they were in the building and how long it would take them to get to the front desk.

Abigail herself could be at Reception in under a minute from her desk, and would gladly be, if her presence was requested by the goddess Mackenzie. All she would have to do was click her fingers and Abigail would come running. And not just for a parcel. For whatever reason she damn well felt like giving.

Want more? Grab the Seven Deadly Sins anthology here, or my standalone story here.