Best of the Worst Sex Scene Contest Entry: by C J Laurence #cravepub #amreading #amwriting

DID YOU KNOW...What is this contest about? Have you ever read a sex scene that was so awful, you were laughing on the floor? If your answer is yes, do you think you can write one that’s worse? We mean better. No, that’s not right. Cheesier. Funnier. That’s it!

So without further ado, behold our sixth entry. To vote for this entry, please leave a comment on this blog post.

Reader Discretion Advised. Please read on if you dare.

Sex Scene Entry

by C J Laurence

Him

Yeah, she wants me. I can feel it. Her eyes are roving up and down my fine form; I just know she’s mentally undressing me. My dick twitches in my pants. I want her. I can almost feel her smooth skin in my hands. I’m grabbing her hips, watching her on top of me. Her face is screwed up with pleasure. Her moans are loud. She’s enjoying herself; I can tell. Her tits are bouncing up and down with each move she makes. Her juices are dripping down my shaft, telling me how excited I’ve made her. God, I’m the man.

The more she moves, the more I struggle to hold back from firing my load into her. Fuck, she wants it though. I wanna fill her up and watch it stream out of her nose. I wanna see her choke on my lovestick. No woman can deep throat me; I’m way too big, but that don’t mean I don’t wanna see myself in her mouth, her cute wet lips wrapped around my John Thomas.

I flip her over and have her from behind. Nothing like hanging out the back of a gorgeous woman who is begging and screaming for more. I pound into her, flesh slapping against flesh. My balls are swinging and hitting her clit with each powerful thrust I give her. I’m covered in sweat but the sight of her face down ass up is just too good to leave.

My moment comes quicker than expected. All too soon, I’m crippled over, groaning as my white-hot semen pumps into her. My bell end throbs, sensitive from its unload. I don’t wanna pull out of her pretty pussy, all dripping wet and moist with both of our juices, but I’m flopping quicker than normal.

***

Her

I can see him across the bar, staring at me. He keeps licking his lips and looking up and down my body. The haze over his eyes tells me that he’s not drunk, but imagining us both naked, writhing around in the highest levels of pleasure a woman has ever known. I give him a quick once over and let my mind piece together the likelihood of a sexual encounter with him.

Without a doubt, I’d have to go on top. There’s no way he’s getting me off any other way. I’m on top, riding him like a bucking bronco ‘coz I need this shag over and done with already. I moan a bit louder and roll my eyes back into my head. Gotta make him think I’m enjoying myself. Remembering that Eastenders is on at eight, I think back over what happened in the last episode.

Shit, it distracts me too much. I start to dry up, making it almost as physically painful as it is mentally to be sat up here. I look down at him. He’s mesmerised by my boobs jostling in front of him. I buck my hips harder, making it harder for him to hold out. For fucks sake man, just cum already!

I’m bored now. I’ve had more enjoyment from eating ice on a hot day. Looking down at him, I bite my lip and run my hands over my body. Trick works. He scrabbles up, giving me a brief moment of bliss as he slips out. I daren’t look down at his manhood again. The urge not to say ‘aww, that’s cute’ had almost been too great to ignore when I first saw it.

Legs and arms fumble about until we’re finally in doggy style. I bury my face in the bedsheet and start working through my list of jobs to do at work tomorrow. He pats my clit with his hand, groaning to himself as he does so. What the fuck is he doing? He runs his fingers down to my gaping hole and spreads my lips apart as he dives inside me once again.

I let my mind wander to that hot, one-night stand who was the only one to give me multiple orgasms. Jeeze, he was good. Real good. I let my memories take over, reminding me of each gushing release he gave me. My body remembers him and begins to respond. My love juice drips from my entrance, ready for him.

But instead, the weight of the man actually behind me falls onto my back. He groans and wriggles around as he shoots his excitement into me. Quickly, I move my fingers to my clit. A few rubs with some decent pressure in the right place and I’m done. Thank fucking God.

He’s going limp already. Talk about a stud. He all but flops out. I look down to see it shrivelling up before my eyes. Thick, white blobs of his cum drip out the end of his foreskin. I think I’m going to be sick.

***

Walking towards the exit of the busy club, she strides up to him. He straightens himself, grinning at his win of the night.

“I hope that was as unsatisfying for you as it was for me.”

In a breeze she’s gone, the linger of her spicy perfume the only thing telling she was ever there.

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Best of the Worst Sex Scene Contest Entry: Lab Animal #9 by Joyce Frohn #cravepub #amreading #amwriting

DID YOU KNOW...What is this contest about? Have you ever read a sex scene that was so awful, you were laughing on the floor? If your answer is yes, do you think you can write one that’s worse? We mean better. No, that’s not right. Cheesier. Funnier. That’s it!

So without further ado, behold our fifth entry. To vote for this entry, please leave a comment on this blog post.

Reader Discretion Advised. Please read on if you dare.

Excerpt from “Lab Animal Number 9”

 by Joyce Frohn

    Jay-Jay bent his head so he could look up at her, while keeping his arms wrapped around her thumb. “Didn’t you notice your computer time logs or did you just figure that one of the students was logging on to ‘interesting’ sites? Here’s another proverb for you, ‘What is sauce for the goose, is sauce for the gander.’ That means that if Drakken can get aroused watching humans have sex, it can go the other way, too.” He pressed his naked body against her thumb feeling her scaly skin push inward with every thrust of his hips. His penis hardened as he thought about what was to come.

        Shokomish smiled down at him. “You didn’t say what your second request was.”

        “You could keep me company. I’m lonely.”

        “So, you want me to take human form-“

        “No, you’re Drakken. I don’t want you to disguise yourself. You could keep your shape and only shift your size.” He nibbled a bit of her skin and massaged the claw bed of her thumb with both hands.

         “It’s never done but-” She took off her lab coat and rested both arms on the lab bench. Her body glowed, and she began to shrink.

          Jay-Jay had his legs braced as she shifted. He grabbed her arm as she shrunk and pulled her up. “You would have had a bad fall. Next time, sit on the lab bench.” He stepped back and looked at her for a moment before wrapping his arms around her, feeling her vestigial wings under her lab coat. “You’re my size now.” He ran his tongue down her facial scales while his fingers stroked her vibrissae. Her pupils widened so much that they were almost round.

         “What’s sauce for the goose,” Shokomish said. One fork of her tongue went into his ear as the other fork stroked his earlobe. Her cloaca widened and lubricated. She took off the lab coat and laid in on the counter

      Jay-Jay led her toward the cage holding her arm. “Welcome to my house. We’ll have a good time tonight. I’ve got lots of ideas about what you can do with that tail.” The fingers of his other hand ran along the small spines on her back.

      She trilled for a moment, as he swung open the cage door. Then she paused, “But are we compatible? Will you fit?” She ran tiny but still needle sharp claws down his back.

        He trembled. And smiled at her. “Of course.” He stroked his upright penis. “I measured myself against your favorite vibrartor.” He giggled a bit. “The one you wrote such a good review for. You might want to delete some of your history.” Now her forked tongue moved down to stroke both his nipples. He shut the door of the laboratory cage behind them and pulled the dark curtain over the cage door.

            It was several hours before Shokomish fell asleep from exhaustion. Jay-Jay tore batting from the flooring and slid it under her head. He hoped she wouldn’t regain her right size in her sleep. If she did, he’d lose the best home he’d ever had.

Best of the Worst Sex Scene Contest Entry: Love Thy Neighbor by Elsa Kurt #cravepub #amreading #amwriting

DID YOU KNOW...What is this contest about? Have you ever read a sex scene that was so awful, you were laughing on the floor? If your answer is yes, do you think you can write one that’s worse? We mean better. No, that’s not right. Cheesier. Funnier. That’s it!

So without further ado, behold our fourth entry. To vote for this entry, please leave a comment on this blog post.

Reader Discretion Advised. Please read on if you dare.

LOVE THY NEIGHBOR

by ELSA KURT

 

It was a Wednesday night. August, hot and dry. Shana sipped her second glass of wine. She was restless, bored. All her married friends were home with their husbands and kids, and her single friends- all two of them- were busy. She knew she should just call it a night, maybe watch some Netflix.

She flicked on the T.V. and blankly stared at the screen. Her interest piqued when the actor’s-Gerard Butler- bare chest filled the screen. The shot pulled back and her eyes followed his vertical crease down to the bulge beneath his fitted pants.

Damn it, now I’m bored and horny.

She sighed and pushed herself off the couch. Outside her apartment, in the hallway, she heard a familiar voice. It was her new neighbor. Her hot new neighbor. Shana peeked through her peephole. Broad shoulders, firm, round ass. Big hands. She was picturing what those hands could do. He was on the phone with someone.

“Fine, you know what, forget it. We’re through. Fine!”

He jammed his phone into his pocket and felt around, obviously looking for something.

“Keys, where the fuck are my keys?”

He huffed and smacked his hand against his door.

Aww, no keys. Poor, sexy neighbor guy.

Then, as if sensing her behind the door, he turned. Shana yanked her head back, hoping he hadn’t seen her eyeball staring at him. Slowly, she moved back to view him again. She jumped, he was right in front of the door!

“Hello? Anybody home? I, uh, locked myself out.”

Without thinking, Shana swung open the door. The hot neighbor looked her up and down, his eyebrows raised.

“Wow. Hi, I’m Tom. Your, uh, new neighbor.”

His eyes kept traveling to Shana’s chest. She realized she only had on a slip, a sheer, silky, pale pink number that V-ed low to expose more than a hint of breast. She knew her nipples were hard under the thin material, but she was feeling emboldened by the wine.

“Hi, Tom. I’m Shana. Everything alright?”

“Uh, no actually. I locked myself out. And on top of that, I just broke up with my girlfriend.”

Was that a catch in his voice? Oh, I think he needs some comforting. And I’m just the woman to do it.

“You poor thing, come on in and I’ll get you some wine.”

“Oh, I hate to be a bother…”

“No bother. Have a seat.”

She poured them each a glass and sat beside him on the sofa. Tom poured his heart out, his eyes shined. But, still, his eyes traveled to Shana’s breasts, her thighs. A glance down at his pants told her all she needed to know. She took his glass from him and set it down. Then, much to his surprise, she climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. She’d intended to give him a slow, deep kiss, but Tom was excited and came in fast and hard. His tongue filled her whole mouth, soupy wet. She could feel a line of drool slide out the corner of her lips.

Okay, okay, he needs a little training, that’s all. My God, I need a bucket. Eww.

“Whoa, easy there, big guy. Let’s set you free, hmm?”

Shana unzipped him, expecting a bulge that matched his hands to spring free. It was more like a little Jimmy Deans breakfast sausage link. To hide her disappointment, she pulled his face to her breasts. Instead of flicking his tongue against her nipples… he motorboated her. Shana blinked in surprise.

‘You like that, baby, don’t you? You want me to do it again?”

“Please…”

He did it again, this time with a louder sound effect.

I was going to say, please don’t. Ugh. Oh, well how much worse can it get?

“Okay, uh, big guy, I can’t wait for it any longer, give it me.”

She rolled her eyes as he fumbled with his dick, trying to find her sweet spot. Once there (at least, she was pretty sure he was there) he began some kind of rapid hip thrusts, like a schizophrenic jack rabbit. He accompanied it with a sound like,

“Uh, uh, uh, uhhh…”

Shana’s breasts flopped out of her slip and bounced around, and she had to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering together. To make matters worse, he smelled like wet gym socks and onions.

“Let me look at you while I fuck you, baby.”

He tipped her back and began kneading her breast like a clump of pizza dough.

“Yeah. Yeah Yeahhh.”

It was clear that Tom was oblivious of the fact that there was a person attached to the body parts, so Shana began checking her cuticles while he bumped and jostled her about. The loud, uncoordinated slap, slap, slap-slap of their bodies made her want to laugh, so she bit her lower lip.

How much longer is this going to go on? I should’ve just watched Netflix.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Tom started announcing his intentions. In the third person.

“Oh, yeah. Big Tommy’s gonna come. Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah… Tommy’s gonna give you his big…hard…co-o-o-o-o-ock!”

Then he made a sound like a kitten mewl. He pulled Shana close, pressing her face into his shoulder. He was muttering something unintelligible, and suddenly, Shana realized he was crying.

Oh, my God. This is not happening right now.

“Oh, so… this was…. something else! You uh, clearly need some, uh, time to… heal. From your break-up, that is. Hang on. Here- here’s a towel. Just um, take it with you, and uh, have a great night. Ok, yeah, bye.

She didn’t let Tom get in a word. She practically shoved him out the door, hand towel and all. The last thing she heard him say was,

“But I still don’t have my apartment keys!”

She avoided him for the next month, then moved to another complex across town.

THE END!

Best of the Worst Sex Scene Contest Entry: The Stranger by Amy Underwood #cravepub #amreading #amwriting

DID YOU KNOW...What is this contest about? Have you ever read a sex scene that was so awful, you were laughing on the floor? If your answer is yes, do you think you can write one that’s worse? We mean better. No, that’s not right. Cheesier. Funnier. That’s it!

So without further ado, behold our third entry. To vote for this entry, please leave a comment on this blog post.

Reader Discretion Advised. Please read on if you dare.

The Stranger

by Amy Underwood

              Walking into her favorite bar, Jazz always sits in the same spot, it was normal for her to sit at the bar in the corner where no one notices her. She just wanted to drink until she forgets everything.

            A regular comes in and sees that she is still sitting in the same spot nursing a beer and thought, why not, I will go and see if she needs company. He sat down next to her and smiled, Jazz could not see a figure of a man but she was so drunk she did not care, he could be Brad Pitt and still nothing, she just wanted to drink alone.

            “Need company little lady,” he just wanted to get laid and knew she would go for it. He laid down the key to his motel room and whispered near her ear, “If you want company, this is where I’ll be.” He got up from his seat and the other patron was cheering him on before he left the bar, he had trouble meeting women and even more, trouble getting back to his motel room, this one looked easy and he knew it would be his night.

             Jazz saw the key and shook her head and ordered another beer, this asshole wants to have sex with me, fat chance. The bartender put the beer down and smiled at her but she just threw the money down and gave him a dirty look. She looked at the key again and wondered to herself why not, it has been a long time, what could it hurt, I’m already drunk. Before she knew it, she was standing at the motel door with the key in her hand.

            The man was so excited that she came and opened the door before she put the key in the lock nearly knocking her over. He grabbed her hand and led her into the room and closed the door.

            All Jazz saw was the room spinning and wanted to sit down. The man hands were all over her, she was getting dizzy from all the movement. He was already naked and she tried to get undressed but her fingers would not work. The man was getting impatient with her and grabbed at her clothes and took them all off throwing them everywhere.

            What was this guy in a hurry for, she thought, I can undress myself and maybe have a few more drinks? He pushed her on the bed and climbed on top of her. She could feel a lot of hair on his back and it seems to feel a bit slimy. He was already grunting like a wild boar, jackhammering her head to the headboard. She couldn’t feel anything. What the hell is this guy fucking she wondered? All she could feel was a heavy man on top of her, she just wanted it to end so she decided to make it look like she was having a blast and faked an orgasm while trying not to laugh her ass off.

             After about a minute he fell completely on top of her and did not move.

OMG, did this guy just have a heart attack and die? She was starting to panic and could not move a muscle. After struggling for a few minutes, she finally got out from under him and landed on the ground next to the bed when the guy lets out a huge fart which almost brought tears to her eyes.

            What the hell did this guy eat? Death by a fart is not a way to go she laughed. He let out another fart that nearly choked her to death. I need to get out of here fast, I will stay low to the ground and hope the farts will not kill me, she crawled to the bathroom when another bomb went off she looked towards the man still on his stomach and swear to god she saw a puff of green smoke coming from his ass, she closed the bathroom door and threw up.

             Looking at herself in the mirror, she did not see herself at all, that little romp had sobered her up a lot. Did not know his name or his little pecker too. What was this guy screwing himself? She opened the door quietly and saw the man still had not moved. She found all her clothing and again another fart went off and knew she had to get out of there fast. Looking more closely at the man who in her mind was a minute man, she wondered was she that drunk that she could not even see the real guy?

            He was a black hairy gorilla, he was overweight and his skin looked wet, maybe that was the slimy part. To her beer goggle eyes, he looked like the porn star in the 70’s, Ron somebody and she wanted to laugh. He lets out another fart nearly killing her this time around. She found all her clothes and made sure she had everything. Grabbing hold of the door handle, the strange man mumbled something and she froze on the spot. He started to snore again and she wanted to take a breath but the smell was killing her. She quietly opened the door and the fresh air hit her in the face, she looked back and he farted again with a green smoke coming from his ass and she closed the door. She never went back to the bar again.

Five On Friday: Interview with author Rosanna Leo

RECEIVE-A-FREE-EBOOK,-CRAVI
Crave author, Rosanna Leo joins us on this beautiful Friday for a quick five question interview. Check out her book Vice which is available for .99¢ for a limited time (Thanksgiving – Cyber Monday) Universal Link: myBook.to/VICERosannaLeo

 

What is the best compliment you have received about your writing?
Well, it’s a bit of a naughty compliment but I love it. When my first book came out, a coworker picked up a copy. She told me afterwards that she read bits of it to her husband while they were in bed. It apparently “inspired them” to get busy. He told her to tell me it was “the best five bucks she ever spent.” I will never forget that.
Tell us about an embarrassing moment.
Sadly, I’ve had several. I’ve always been somewhat accident-prone and it’s not unusual for me to trip on my own feet. When I was younger, I did a lot of community theater. At one point, I was in a production of “Pirates of Penzance.” During a dress rehearsal, I somehow ended up tripping on my long gown and falling into a pile of stacked chairs. They fell on top of me. I had to be rescued by a bunch of older men dressed as pirates. It was … weird.
Which one of your characters is your favorite and why?
Although this is a question that makes me feel guilty for choosing, I’d have to say I’m partial to Liam Doyle, the hero of Vice, Vegas Sins 1. Liam is such a tortured soul and his journey to redemption speaks to me. He has a good heart and expects so much of himself but his good intentions don’t always come through as he wishes. As his heroine Kate says, he needs to “hit rock bottom.” When he does, it breaks my heart. I think I rooted for this couple more than any of my others and I was so happy to bring their happy ending to Crave Publishing.
What’s something you are really good at that only a few people know about?
My family and friends know this but I’m not sure how many of my readers will. In my younger days, I trained as a classical soprano and sang in a Toronto chamber ensemble for a while. It was a lot of fun and I loved the music but I had to give it up once I started my family. It’s a very difficult career to manage when you have small children. So, I guess you could say I can sing a little bit, although I’m probably rusty.
What is the hardest thing about writing?
Ah! The hardest thing about writing is not being able to write! I work part-time as well and when I can’t be at my laptop, it’s agonising. I’m always thinking about what I want to write next so when there are other distractions, it can be annoying. I guess that’s a sign that I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing!
To learn more about Rosanna, visit her website: https://rosannaleoauthor.wordpress.com/

#TeaserTuesday: Excerpt from Craving: Secrets

#crave (37)

#TeaserTuesday #99cents Read the rest of this story and many others in Craving: Secrets for only 99¢.

Universal Buy Link: myBook.to/CravingSecrets

Excerpt from “Lies Between the Sheets” by Christine Hartmann

She opened the drawer, grabbed a caramel bar from among the gaudy options, bit, then felt rather than saw the person behind her. She knew the scent. An aroma that wasn’t store-bought but body-made—feral and irresistible. She swiveled slowly in her seat.

Hayden rubbed the front of his slim-fit shirt, like an iron gliding over cotton, steaming wrinkles from a hard, flat surface. His eyes, quick-moving and piercing, gazed down at her from beneath furrowed brows, as though he were pulling her into focus. From her seated position, face level with his belt, she fought against a draw that pulled her eyes toward an inspection of areas she knew she had no business looking at. She tossed the candy bar into the trash and rose abruptly, her chair banging into the divider between her cube and Tanice’s.

“I need help.” His hands rubbed his thighs and searched for a place to rest, sliding distractedly around his waist until finding a mooring in his back pockets. In a similar fashion, his eyes roamed her face, hair, and chest before springing, as though caught in a compromising situation, to her computer screen. “I know you’re really good with…figures.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

He rubbed his forehead. “I really like the way your…” He glanced from her diamond earrings to the monitor and back again.

The more delightfully flustered he became, the faster blood rushed through her system. She smiled but said nothing.

“Spreadsheets look.”

If her face hadn’t been beet red, and if she hadn’t been worried about the sweat stains rapidly forming in the armpits of her white blouse, she would’ve enjoyed the moment. Cool, collected, commanding Hayden struggling to form a coherent sentence. Part of the reason people in the office latched their expectations, fears, or fantasies onto him was that he seemed too perfect to touch. In Hayden, friendly and aloof were not opposites but complements, two sides of the same personality. But she confused him. It thrilled her.

“Want a candy bar?” Her fingers hooked the drawer handle.

“I’ve got this thing.” He looked around, as though suddenly lost. “I can show you if you come with me.” He turned and, without looking to see whether she was following him, marched toward the bank of elevators at the far end of the open space, suddenly transformed into a man who knew what he wanted and knew he could get it, striding along the floor with the confidence and nonchalance of a lion in the savanna, all lithe body, bushy mane, and swinging tail. She snatched a tissue from her desk to hide her grin and followed, keeping a few paces behind, her face turned to the white boards lining the wall. She perused the latest marketing figures while pretending to blow her nose, hoping it seemed natural to multitask.

The elevator doors slid open as she arrived. A cluster of coworkers edged themselves between her and Hayden. She was grateful for the distance and distraction. On successive floors, the others got off. After the sixteenth, she and Hayden stood in opposite corners, alone. Her gaze focused involuntarily on the security camera in the ceiling, wondering whether anyone was watching them. When she peeked at Hayden, she saw him staring at it, too. They traveled in silence to the roof, where he held the door open and ushered her out with a brush of his hand against her lower back that made her draw in her breath.

Outside, the damp, cold San Francisco wind made her blink. A gust whipped the forgotten tissue from her hand. They watched it flutter through the sky like a lost bird, wheeling over potted shrubbery and aluminum tables and chairs until it flew over the glass walls lining the edge of the roof and dove to the street. Hayden motioned with his chin at a bank of tall, sculpted boxwood rectangles that formed a corner. He sauntered toward it, a thin, straight compass needle drawn to north. Janessa linked her hands behind her back and followed in the slow, undulating motion of a runway model, placing one foot deliberately in front of the other in a straight line, as though she knew exactly what she was doing.