Best of the Worst Sex Scene Contest Entry: Bend Over Madame by Katalina Leon #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 second entry. To vote for this entry, please leave a comment on this blog post.

Reader Discretion Advised. Please read on if you dare.

Bend Over Madame

By Katalina Leon

And take delivery of a steaming hot blog!

This is a repost of a blog that was very popular and hopefully will provide a good laugh at my expense.

I just wanted to share something fun and incredibly stupid. I’m offering you the worst and most pointless romance blog I’ve ever written. In order to write this, I sank low and I’m counting on you to sink with me into the well-worn ruts of overused romance tropes. This is every bodice-ripping romance novel ever published from the 90s featuring Fabio on the cover. I deliberately wrote the most wretched, offensive dialogue and scenarios I could think of. Poor grammar, exhausted tropes, typos and thoughtless dialogue were done willfully.

Enjoy!

Copyright Katalina Leon:

Bad Writing Exhibit A:  A Bluff Pirate’s tale, “Semen at Sea.”

The scene opens on a stereotypical pirate ship that’s clean, spacious, and free of filth and offensive odors, just like the good old days.

A swarthy pirate chief has a quailing maiden in his clutches. Isn’t that always the case? She’s being held prisoner in the captain’s cabin. You already know the scenario so let’s jump right into the stupidity midscene…

Captain Muskysac, the much-dreaded handsome bastard pirate of the inky blue undulating ocean, loomed menacingly over his captive prize, conveniently kidnapped on the eve of her wedding to an impotent old lord.

The beautifully delicate Miss Ashley Roseheather, the wistful jewel of his heart since childhood, gazed at him with limpid eyes. “Sir. I beseech you to consider my special condition and show pity.”

“Ha, arrh!” he bellowed. “I don’t give a heck if yer a virgin lassie, I’m going to peek in your porthole and force you to ride me bucking lower deck whether ya like it or not.” Captain Muskysac insolently puffed his broad chest forward, thrusting his man-nipples three feet apart, kicked his boot heels astride and stood thusly with his fists firmly planted heroically on his insinuating lean hips and barked, “On your knees, lass! Get ready to hop aboard my swinging yardarm.  I’m going to ruin you for future nuptials!”

Ashley glanced upward and mumbled through ruby rosebud lips, “There’s been a slightly awkward miscommunication. I’m not a virgin and haven’t been for quite some time.”

Captain Muskysac’s posture wilted as a disconsolate pout tugged his lips downward. “What do mean yer not a virgin? I had a whole deflowerment routine of horribly protracted degradation painstakingly planned for you. I was going to win your heart by conquering your frail womanly form and easily shocked sensibilities. I’d like some acknowledgement for my efforts. It’s no easy feat to craft a misguided plan that a single well-placed comment could shatter. Before you put the quietus on my arrangements, let’s hear your ravishment scheme. I’ll bet you don’t even have one!” With his raven locks flowing past his shoulders, he stomped across the floorboards like a child having a tantrum “I’ll have you know I went to a great deal of trouble for you. How about showing me a little respect? Manacles were polished. A peephole was drilled into the wall. Neverwash Walter is eagerly waiting in the next cabin to shout rude, inappropriate comments and leer over the entire sordid event. We were all looking forward to this. I’ll be honest with you, this is a bitter let down.”

She batted her lashes coquettishly. “I’m so sorry, Captain, I’m not a virgin and there’s nothing to be done about it now. That train has left the station. I could play another part. How do you feel about a sassy, cigar-smoking, whiskey-voiced, salty-tongued, been abandoned by love but has a heart of gold, hip-swishing sea wench? Could you use one of those? Don’t give up on me yet. I adore life-jarring forced seductions and humiliating degradation on the high seas.” Ashley’s diaphanous baby-blue eyes bulged pleadingly. “It’s not too late to have a good time, is it? I’ll just behave flustered and witless and we’ll put the whole embarrassing misunderstanding behind us. You’ll never notice I’m not a virgin. What do you say, my spicy pepperoni—is the party on?”

Captain Muskysac stared dejectedly at the toes of his tall boots. “I don’t know—it’s not quite the same. I take pride in my arrogantly aberrant behavior. Menacing maidens is an art form. I’m not really prepared for an experienced woman. I don’t want to just stumble through the act halfheartedly.”

“Oh what the hell, I’m starting without you,” Ashley shouted. “Nay, nay dark ruthless master, don’t burst my preciously treasured, carefully guarded and saved-for-sacred-marriage maidenhead, and spoil my chances for a peaceful, productive life and soak my virgin tight-as-a-kidskin-glove, pouting rosebud, woman’s secret cottage in the glen, quimmy with your steamy hot juices! Spare me, lava-hot love god. I beg of you!”

Appalled, Captain Muskysac’s jaw dropped. He whispered a tense warning. “You do realize Neverwash Walter and others can hear you in the next cabin?”

“All the better. I’m a randy exhibitionist. Let’s get loud! Lash me to yer throbbing purple yardarm, hop’n jack me, whip the pony, butter the biscuits, take me if you must, grease me with deck-wax, pin me flat, and ravish me on your thick commanding masthead. Your mysteriously threatening knobby turgidness compels me to surrender!”

“My turgidness?”

“Yes, your stony rock hard as iron and straight as a plank of wood turgidness. Shove it in me, lord of my mattress! For you, my dewy quim is like a fragrant rose shyly opening its delicate silky pink petals to the first fair day of spring sunshine that we call love. My naughty lady-slipper pouts, longs, desires, drools, and oozes with love nectar waiting for you to take me again and again and again and again—”

“All right, already!” he announced as he tore at his laces and evacuated his threateningly turgid, inhumanly proportioned, mapped with veins, sweaty, salty manhood from his skintight period-correct breeches and let it thrust in all its twitching glory toward her startled face. “I’m going to slip you the sausage and mash the potatoes. Then I’m going to spill man-gravy all over your plate, and let it all soak in the sink until morning. I doubt you’ll walk upright for a week!”

“Nay, if I ever walk again!” She screamed ridiculously and ducked under the bedcovers. “You’re so massively, hugely big! The sheer girthy width of your tremendously engorged spit–red-hot-rivets-wang-hammer is enough to kill a girl. The impressive volume of your man-tool leaves me humbled, awed, and yet strangely drawn to the danger-tinged mystery of its wrinkled foreskin.” She sighed sweetly. “Your balls are big too.”

“So is your plump round bottom, madam. Bend over! I shall take a brisk palm to task against those firm, proud peaches and paddle a happy tune on your pink drum skins before I lave my tongue between your warm, wet woman folds and send the fire truck to hose down the flames.”

He did and they lived happily ever after.

The End.

XXOO Katalina Leon

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Best of the Worst Sex Scene Contest Entry: Closing the Deal by Rosanna Leo #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 first entry. To vote for this entry, please leave a comment on this blog post.

Reader Discretion Advised. Please read on if you dare.

Closing the Deal

by Rosanna Leo

“As you can see, it’s fully furnished and this bedroom has a great view of the ocean. I think this one ticks all your boxes, Brianna.”

Brianna Hawthorne cast a glance toward the pounding surf but the only view that interested her was the one of her real estate agent Ridge Montgomery. Thanks to his luxurious dark hair, hard body and keen fashion sense, she hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything else. They had been dancing around each other for weeks now. Although she’d enjoyed his coy looks, she was ready to close this deal.  “I don’t know, Ridge. I’m just not sure. I feel like I need to see…” She put a hand to her heaving bosom. “I need to see more.”

“Dammit, Brianna.” Ridge’s frustration finally escaped. “I’ve shown you seventy-eight properties.” His nostrils flared, as if he wanted to turn her over his knee.

Exactly what she had in mind. Their meetings had grown heated as they tried to deny their animal urges. Ridge Montgomery was the best of the best. Brianna knew he wouldn’t make the first move. He was too professional. He needed a nudge.

“I never said I needed to see any other properties.” She walked over to the king-sized bed. “I want to see more of you.” She unfastened the buttons on her blouse, exposing her cleavage.

Ridge’s gaze burned her like a fiery brand on the tender flesh of a new calf. He strode over and planted himself in front of her.  “Those are … your breasts.”

“Why, yes, sugar. They are.” She slid out of her blouse and dropped her pencil skirt, stepping out of the puddle of clothing. “Want to see more of them?” She unsnapped her lacy bra and unleashed her velvety mounds.

“But…” Red in the face, Ridge stammered. “ This is unprofessional.”

“Ridge, darling. I don’t just want you as my agent. I want you in my life and between my thighs. Think of it as signing on the dotted line.” To emphasize her point, she slowly removed her silky thong, sliding it over her ample buttocks. Still in her stiletto heels, she bent over to remove them.

“Dammit, Brianna!” Ridge caressed her arm, his touch turning her insides to molten goo. “Keep the heels on.”

Yes! If she’d been wearing any panties, she would have creamed them. As it stood, her wanton moisture trickled down her legs.

Ridge’s eyes narrowed. “Well, well.” He touched her there. “Someone has sprung a leak.”

“It’s what you do to me.”

“Is that so? I must admit, I’ve been dreaming of this moment.”

She put her hand on his aroused package, rubbing him over his trousers. God in Heaven! He was the size of the prize cucumber she’d entered into the country fair when she was twelve. She’d won the blue ribbon then and she’d clearly won it now as well. “Ridge. You’re straining the seam on your pants.”

“I know.” His voice was nothing more than a guttural growl. “I should warn you, Brianna. I’m … larger than the average man.” His face fell. “Some might say too large.”

She touched his chin and made him look at her. “Not for me, Ridge Montgomery. Not for me.”

As she continued to stroke him, the most incredible thing happened. He continued to harden, so much so that the little threads on his trousers began to pop. Amazed at the display of unrelenting masculinity, Brianna cupped his balls and squeezed.

“Dammit, Brianna! I can’t hold it in any longer.”

As both his trousers and boxer briefs ripped open, destroying the garments forever, a monstrous rod emerged. Veined and purple, it reached up past the waist of his pants …well, what was left of his pants anyway.

Brianna touched a finger to the beast. Both horrified and intrigued, she smeared the thick precum all over the wide head and then licked her fingers. His stud essence was delicious, tastier than dill pickle juice.

She really loved dill pickles.

“I want you, Brianna Hawthorne.” He grunted. “You have no idea how hard it is for me to restrain myself. Every moment around you is a struggle.”

“Oh, Ridge. You never need to struggle again.” Grasping his noble member, she pumped him with two hands. “Maybe you should take the rest of your clothes off.”

His eyes rolled back in his head. “I … can’t …wait.”

“Then take me, Ridge. Take me as you’ve never taken anyone before!”

 He pushed her back onto the bed, spread her legs and entered her with a mighty thrust.

She felt him right up under her ribcage and screamed.

She also blacked out for a few seconds, but mostly, it felt really good.

Brianna panted, stretched to her limits. He was the behemoth of brokers, her very own leviathan of listings. Ridge claimed her, put a lock box on her and took her to the bank. She welcomed him into her heart on a wave of womanly moisture. They came together on a lusty cry and his man nectar filled her to the rim. Even after her orgasm waned, he pulled out of her, aiming his cock at her stomach, pumping madly.

Still coming, he spilled himself all over her belly. And her thighs. And her breasts. She sucked in a breath as he aimed higher but he finally spent himself and fell next to her, exhausted.

Five minutes later, Brianna lay as still as a fly caught in a spider’s sticky web. “Um, a towel, please?”

“Of course.” Ridge jumped to his feet. “Let me get you a washcloth.”

“No. A towel would be better, thanks.”

Ridge wiped up the mess, cleaning up all traces of his love stew.  “Dammit, Brianna. I love you. Are you ready to make an offer?”

“I love you, Ridge. You and your monstrous cock. And I’m ready to pay full asking price.”

THE END

 

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Excerpt from Undercover Escort by Amy Reece

“Well, I guess I’ll leave it down, Henry. It looks ridiculous up.” Tessa let the long, dirty-blonde locks fall against her neck. She’d never been able to manage more than a ponytail, but had hoped to pull off an elegant up-do for Aidan’s party. She wanted to show him she had more going on than she’d shown so far. She stepped into the black heels that added a few inches to her height, but immeasurable confidence to her spirit.

“Tessa! Time to go!”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and gave a final tug to her dress. “Be good, Henry, and guard the house while we’re gone.” She grabbed her tote bag and left her room.

Aidan waited at the foot of the stairs, looking resplendent in a navy suit and deep purple tie. “It’s about ti—” He raised his eyebrows as a crooked smile appeared. “Wow. You clean up well.”

She ground her teeth as she elbowed her way past him. “You should have stopped at ‘wow’.” She was secretly rather pleased with his reaction. “Let’s get out of here, GQ.” She followed him to the detached garage. “Aw, no Ferrari?”

He opened the passenger door of a Lexus sedan. “It’s out being detailed.”

She flashed him an astonished look.

“Kidding. You think your purse is big enough?”

She shoved it on the floorboard as she got in, struggling a bit with her short, tight dress. “Yeah, well those sexy little evening bags won’t hold my gun, and this dress is too tight for a shoulder holster.”

His eyes roved her body as he started the car. “That’s for sure. It would be great if you didn’t shoot any of my friends at this party tonight.”

“I’ll try to contain myself. Are these other sleazy lawyer friends?”

“Some are lawyers. A few are sleazy. Their spouses and significant others will be there, as well. We need to get our story straight. Here.” He handed her a file folder. “If you could familiarize yourself with the details of our relationship while I drive, that would be great.”

“Ooh, so official.” She flipped through several pages of neatly typed notes. “We met while you were in law school in Massachusetts? I still live there? Problem: I’ve never been to Massachusetts. I won’t be able to answer any questions about Boston if I’m asked.”

“Just say you love the Red Sox and change the subject.”

“So, why am I just now visiting you? You’ve been out of law school for at least ten years.”

“We reconnected on Facebook recently and rekindled the old flame.” He glanced at her and chuckled.

“Hmm.” She closed the folder. “Fine, but it seems like a pretty thin story to me. Am I smart or dumb?”

“What do you mean?”

She bit her lip and refused to look at him. “Am I supposed to be smart or dumb? I want to be able to play my part well. What kind of women do you usually date?”

“Let’s just say my dates don’t usually pack a pistol in their purse. Be yourself, but make our relationship convincing. I’m really trying to keep these damn threats out of the media.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it help to have everyone aware of what you’re dealing with?” She didn’t understand why he’d want to hide something like this.

“No.” He stared straight ahead at the traffic. “I don’t want any more scrutiny into my affairs than absolutely necessary.” The tic in his jaw was back.

 

#amwriting #romance The Best of the Worst Sex Scene Writing Contest

DID YOU KNOW...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!

Introducing our First Annual “Best” of the Worst Sex Scene Writing Contest.

RULES: This contest is open to published and non-published writers. We are looking for the most over the top, gratuitous sex scene you can possibly write. Make it moist, make it drip, make it cringe-worthy, make it juicy, and make us laugh. (Please keep your entry rated “R” or “NC-17”. We will accept raunchy and naughty, but not extreme or hardcore entries. )

Submit your 500-1000 word sex scene to alisa@cravepublishing.net today, the last day we will accept and post entries on our blog (www.cchronicles.wordpress.com) is 11/30/17. The entry with the most comments on their blog post by 12/8/17 will be our winner.

PRIZE: $25 Amazon gift card and bragging rights among your friends.

NOTE: This promotion is in no way sponsored, endorsed or administered by, or associated with Facebook. You understand that you are providing your information to the owner of this Facebook page and not to Facebook.

Disclaimer: We reserve the right to decline any entry.