FILTHY WHORE!

I track my sales once a week. It’s something a good friend said he does, and I’ve quickly gotten into the habit. It helps me to understand what books of mine people love, and which ones they aren’t willing to take a chance on. It helps me understand what types of sell better so I can concentrate on writing the things people want to read.

I looked over my sales and covers and thought I had a home run with my book Filthy Whore. I picked the cover out and designed it very carefully, even spent hours deciding on the title. I filled the book with short stories, making it longer than any of my previous books.

And so far I haven’t seen a huge interest. I have to say I am confused, but it may be because of the title. I thought it would draw readers into my world a little, but not so much.

I can’t say that it has sold poorly, just below what I thought. The second part is longer and hotter than the first. It even has the pseudo incest that everyone seems to love. I have people fucking every which way, some really hot people. I can’t tell you how turned on I got by the things I wrote, and I’m sure you will to.

So I decided to throw  nice long excerpt on my blog to give more people a chance to get into the books.

Filthy Whore ONE has 2 short stories, and Filthy Whore TWO has three. Check out the following free excerpt, hope you like it!

I finally managed to get the button undone and the zipper down, my hand instantly moving between his hot flesh and the rough fabric of his jeans. I found his cock shoved down into a pant leg, the thick heat trapped by our position. Butch backed up and lowered the pants enough for me to remove his girth.

Holy shit. I wasn’t sure what I could actually do with something that big, especially after three years of inactivity.

Luckily Bruce had no such qualms.

His hand was already pushing my shorts to the side, his fingers entering my wetness roughly, pressing inside of me and curbing upwards. He placed his thumb expertly inside his palm where it could rub against my clit, his hand making small circles that touched me everywhere I wanted to be touched.

I arched my back, granting his fingers deeper access while I stoked over his shaft. Butch was kissing my neck, his free hand lifting my shirt over sensitive nipples, the feel of his skin on mine so much more than I thought it would be. He was tight everywhere, his muscles dancing under thick skin as he moved. As his teeth closed down on my neck I had my first orgasm, the intensity of it soaking his hand and making my thighs quiver. The constant thrum of his Harley underneath me was adding to the experience, like fucking on top of a giant vibrator.

My hands went to his chest and I pushed Butch back, leaning myself forward so I could get my lips around his hardness. I licked the pre-come off the swollen head, savoring the taste of it before opening my mouth wide and taking him in. I got as much of him in as possible, stroking the rest with a trembling hand. My head bobbed as he kneaded the mounds of my breasts, fingers playing over hardened nipples with gentle fingers. Despite his size Butch was very careful, moving with deliberate slowness and caution.

I couldn’t get enough of his cock into my mouth. I wanted to take it all, but that was just physically impossible. I loved the taste of him, the fleshy hardness as it filled my mouth, the briny tang of his pre-come. He grew incredibly hard, finally pushing me back and moving my shorts to the side.

I was soaked, my pussy aching with need as he slipped the head between swollen lips and into my opening. Terrified by the size of it I anticipated a great deal of pain, but Butch knew how to handle it. He had gotten me wet enough to ease in, his motions incredibly slow. Every couple seconds he would pause, then rock it in and out just a little, pushing in farther and farther each time.

His length wasn’t half way in when I had my second orgasm, the muscles tight around his fleshy rod as I screamed out his name and dug trembling fingers into his back. I wanted all of it. Now.

“Fuck me.” I grabbed his face in both my hands and looked Butch in the eyes. “Put that giant cock in my and fuck me.” I wasn’t even sure if they were my words, but they did come out of my mouth. I was possessed by a need so complete it consumed me, turning me into something I am not.

Butch pushed harder, stretching me out until finally I felt his body press into mine. I looked down between us, dying for the visual of the massive cock stretching me out. As he pulled slowly out I watched, the seemingly endless flesh moving out of me. I burned inside, the pain nothing compared to the pleasure. Never before had I been with someone so massive, and I had to admit I liked it. There was a good deal of pain, but that was subsiding as I stretched enough to accommodate him. When he was fully inside of me there was some discomfort, his length was simply too much.

I had an easy remedy that should be more than agreeable to us both.

My hand snaked between our bodies and took tight hold of his base. I had a tight hold, even though his cock was too thick to allow my fingers to touch. I moaned as he pushed back in, my hand stopping him right were it began to get uncomfortable.

We continued on like that for several very quick minutes, his hips bucking and the gigantic cock slamming into me, my hand getting crushed between our bodies. I could let go; I was confident that Butch wouldn’t impale me fully, but I loved the feel of his hardness in my hand, and the way it was slapping into my pussy was incredible.

Car trouble and Kat's reaction to breaking down

Ugh…I’m writing this, posting it, and then heading off to sleep. I so wanted to spend the night reading erotica and drinking wine, curled up on my couch with some old jazz playing, but life had other ideas.

After scanning my refrigerator and finding that it hadn’t grown any new food (although there was some science experiment going on in the back, I think it used to be an apple and now it’s a colony of space frogs or something) I finally bit the bullet and headed out to eat. As luck would have it I picked a local pseudo fast food place (Mahi Taco’s anyone…yumm!) that was right next door to a car dealership. This proved lucky when I went to start my car and it wouldn’t do anything. Nothing. Not a single sound came from it when I turned the key.

Now don’t think I am some rich bitch who just disposes of cars when one fails to function. I’ve been driving the same tired piece of shit for seven years. I bought it new, paid it off ahead of time to null out most of the interest, and took good care of it. I get my oil changed at the dealer every 3000 miles and get things fixed as they break. I have a space in my budget for car related things, and knowing how old it was getting and watching the odometer go over 100,00 miles I knew enough to start budgeting for a new car. I had reached 160,000 miles, and it was time to say goodbye.

So I headed across the parking lot with my tacos and drink in hand and right into the showroom.  I know everyone gets attention when they walk into a car dealership, but when a hot blonde with big tits walks in, especially one who isn’t dressed appropriately to be out in public (I had a VERY tight tank top on with no bra, sweatpants, and flip flops) carrying taco’s she gets A LOT of attention.

My salesman was a fresh faces kid who couldn’t stop looking at my tits. I finally told him that if he gave me a good deal I would lift my shirt and let him see the puppies, provided he could keep his eyes off them long enough to do my paperwork.

“Jarrod, I’ll make this real simple. This is the easiest sale of your life. My car just died in the parking lot next door. I want a car; don’t really care what it is. I have ten thousand dollars for a down payment and my monthly payments better be under two hundred. If you can make that happen I’ll buy whatever you got ready to take me home. Oh, and I want to be out the door in under an hour. Ready? GO!”

The kid’s smile wouldn’t have gotten wider if I did flash him my tits.

“With that kind of down payment I can easily keep your payments real low. How’s your credit?”

“Flawless, thank you.” He filled out a form and pulled a calculator out. He said a bunch of things that meant nothing to me, but what I took out of the conversation was that I could easily buy something for between 20 and 30 grand.

“Cool. How much is that?” I pointed to a shiny convertible in the showroom.

“The Camaro? That’s a limited edition 45^th anniversary race model. It’s sixty thousand, but if you like the Camaro I could show you a couple others in your price range.”

So he did. I found this really nice looking yellow one with black rims. He kind of tried to push me to the one with the bigger motor, but I liked the yellow. It was a stick, the interior was cool and comfortable, and during the test drive I had a blast. The thing was quick and handled well, it sounded tough but not too loud, and it was a sports car that got 30 miles to the gallon.

I bought it.

So now I am the owner of a 2011 Chevy Camaro.

You’re probably wondering what happens next. Did I thank the salesmen by pulling him into the bathroom and sucking his cock, or did I need to get on my hands and knees under the finance managers desk?

Sorry, sometimes my life isn’t as interesting as my books. Just wanted to share that little tidbit of info.

I ended up getting home around eight thirty with my polished and cleaned new car. I had eaten my Mahi Taco’s in the dealership, so when I got home I was finally able to curl up on my couch and start to read through some of the incredible erotica I have been finding.

I’ll tell you more about that later. Right now I need some sleep.

Chow!

Filthy Whore

I’ve been working on a series called FILTHY WHORE for the two weeks or so now. I published the first two stories in one small collection last week, and I’ve been hard at work putting three more short stories into the second part of the series. Talking with a friend of mine the other day she asked why in the hell I would write a book called FILTHY WHORE, especially when it’s basically a grouping of autobiographical stories.



KINDLE



“Seriously Kat, do you consider yourself a whore?” Amy sipped her tea thoughtfully, as if this question was supposed to shock me and make me jump up, smacking my hand to my forehead as I rushed to the computer to change the title of the book.

“Not even a little bit.” I finished my beer, placing it down on the coaster and wiping foam from my lip. “It’s more of a socio-political commentary about the views of our prudish society on strong willed, sexual women.” My reply caught her off guard. It’s not that Amy doesn’t understand big words, but because I don’t usually use phrases like socio-political.

“Really?” She lifted one of her eyebrows, something she insists she doesn’t do. “Are you seriously throwing that crap in my face?”

“It’s not crap.” I laughed, getting out of my seat and walking to her refrigerator where I could steel one more of her husband’s beers. The guys a complete dick anyway, so I never feel bad about drinking his beer, or fucking his wife. “I mean it. I titled the book FILTHY WHORE because I wanted to write about some of the more…morally challenged relationships I’ve had. I wanted to explain things a little without being apologetic for who I am.”

NOOK

And I’m not. I never apologize. I am who I am, and if you don’t like me than you can stop reading.

Seriously. I like sex. No, scratch that. I love sex. I love everything about it; meeting someone new, talking to them and getting to know them, feeling my heart pound as I move in and make a move, feeling their body and their nervousness as they reciprocate, touching and tasting them for the first time. It’s all incredible fun, so why should I apologize.

Society has these perceived norms for people; you date, you fall in love, you get married, and you grow old. It’s outdated, unreasonable, and boring as fuck. I like meeting new people. I like having interesting conversations, hearing opposing viewpoints, and occasionally arguing with people. It keeps me sharp.

I don’t want to be stuck with one person because that’s what’s expected of me. I have enough married friends who are miserable to know this isn’t always the answer. I also have several friends that are married and love it, so I don’t view it all as bad. If that’s what you want, than go for it. I don’t want it, so please don’t shove it down my throat.

There is an unhealthy thought process that says sex should be between two people, the same two people, and only those two people. It’s one step above “Sex ONLY for procreation” but just barely. It’s a holdover from the religious ideals pushed on us by antiquated rules. Organized religion sucks. It depresses people, makes them feel guilty, and puckers their asses so tight you couldn’t get a greased pea up there if your life depended on it. (Religion will be another blog post, but not this one)

Seriously look at some of the uptight bitches that run around screaming about abstinence and sexual purity. They are against homosexuality, pornography, erotica, freedom, and fun. They don’t enjoy their own lives and take it upon themselves to ruin it for the rest of us. I can’t respect people who try to shove their ideals in my face, telling me I’m wrong because I like sex. A LOT.

Fuck them all.

I’ll bet if half of those idiots actually got laid, I mean really, really got fucked good, then they would relax and start living.

smashwords

So the question posed by my friend Amy was “Do you think of yourself as a whore?”

Resoundingly, NO.

What do you think? Be honest with me and yourself. Leave comments and let me know what your views are on sex. How do you feel about multiple partners, same sex couples, and kink. Come on guys, let me know you’re alive out there. Leave a comment!

Here is an excerpt from one of the stories in FILTHY WHORE 2-  all for your enjoyment and FREE!

She had her entire hand arched and bent in such as way as to allow the heal of her hand to continue grinding over my pearl while two fingers worked magic inside my wetness. The way she varied her pressure and motions was incredible, and I was brought to a rather impressive orgasm within minutes.

Just before I was about to come her lips left mine and moved down my neck, her teeth scratching the skin and tongue trailing lightly over the gooseflesh she caused. Just as I came she bit my earlobe.

Knowing I couldn’t scream was frustrating, but sometimes that can add to the excitement too. I struggled underneath her, my hips bucking wildly and legs shaking as I sucked my lower lip into my mouth and bit down it to keep from screaming. I did whimper, and when the blonde finally let go of my ear and kissed me I took advantage and moaned loudly into her mouth.

Now it was her turn.

Again, leave me a comment, please. I want to hear from you guys.

You know when you know

New neighbors have moved in, a nice couple from the looks of it. You can tell a lot about people based upon the stuff that comes out of a moving truck. There are the usual things like mattresses and tables and a couch or two. Most people pack away the private things. The sex toys are carefully hidden in a box marked "table linens." However, this particular couple hauled out long wooden beams. Not big enough to be part of the construction of a house or something, but big. Bigger than what the average person would need around the house.

I admit that I had to leave my computer and the latest novel to take a gander at the newbies. *twist my arm* Fine! My nose was pressed against the window, and I honestly contemplated buying a pair of binoculars. And then it happened...the answer to my prayers. One of the movers tripped and a box spilled open.

I actually yelled, "jackpot!"

Out of that box came a plethora of equipment. Handcuffs, harnesses, a rope or two, lots of chain and quite a bit of leather. Yes, my neighbors are kinky. And God bless them! Suddenly the Jones family (not their real names, of course) got interesting. The poor moving guy was appalled. He scrambled to shove everything back in the box even though the thing was smashed on one side. He was stuttering out apologies, blushing so hard his head looked like a plum, while the wife tried to help. They almost bumped heads a couple times. I felt for them both.

So now I'm wondering about what kind of house warming/welcome to the neighborhood gift I should bring them. A houseplant just doesn't seem sufficient.

Any suggestions?

Dear Diary...

I was plundering my diaries for M/M inspiration and came across this excerpt that got me so hot with remembered orgasms that I had to take a break and call one of my friends for a quick screw. Hope you enjoy it too!

"...as his hand traveled up my thigh, pushing my skirt up as his fingers searched along the hem of my panties. I squirmed gratefully against his large palm, silently wishing that he would hurry the hell up. I wanted him so much that I thought I'd erupt into a fiery ball of sexual need right there in the restaurant. Technically, I suppose we weren't inside the restaurant any more. He had followed me to the ladies room, but caught my hand as I opened the door. One look into his deep blue eyes, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. I smiled and squeezed his hand, pulling him towards the back service entrance. (and that's not a euphemism!) 

Luckily I was wearing a skirt. He lifted me to perch on top of the railing, his fingers plunging inside me as he held me steady with the other hand. My hands were busy too, unbuttoning his pants and slipping my hand inside to stroke him. It was only a matter of seconds before he had replaced his fingers with his cock, our bodies rocking towards fulfillment. I came hard, my nails digging into his ass and my head thrown back in ecstasy. 

It wasn't until we heard the applause that we realized that half the kitchen staff was standing around watching us. Someone remarked that it was the best lunch break ever."

For the record, I love public sex. I figure that if someone wants to watch, why the hell not give them something to write home about. Something about an extra pair of eyes to witness your sexual transgressions just lights me on fire. So tell me...ever have anyone watch you?

HOT M/M Action!

What is it about two hot guys getting it on that makes women all wet and squishy? On the surface of it I guess the thought of two cocks is what turns me on, but knowing that a man is gay puts the brakes on things. He’s gay. He likes guys. It doesn’t matter how much I try I can’t fuck him, so why bother?

But just like men find lesbians incredibly sexy so too do I find gay men incredibly sexy. I find their passion and tenderness alluring, the movements they make so confident because at the end of the day they all share the same equipment and know how to use it better than any woman ever could.

It’s like when two women get together; we’re slow, methodical, and passionate. We know what works for another woman because we have the same parts; we know what feels good and what we like. Granted, what I like isn’t going to be the same thing you do, but chances are really, really good that it’s pretty close. It’s the same for men, and that confidence and knowledge is what turns me on.

Thinking about two chiseled bodies getting covered in sweat, rolling around and flexing as the lust fuels them, turns me on. Thinking about two hard cocks being stroked and sucked expertly is just plain hot. I have always loved the image of two men coming together and fucking, but until now I haven’t tried to write anything about it.

It’s hard for me as a woman to write M/M stories because I lack the required equipment. I know what I would like to see; I know what it looks like in my head. I’ve been shared by two men on several occasions, but it was just that; I was shared. I wasn’t a party to two gay men having sex, or even two bisexual men having sex.

So what does any good writer do when they aren’t knowledgeable about something? RESEARCH! That’s right, I made some calls and found two friends of mine who were (mostly) gay and willing to let me watch. I even got to participate a little, but my main focus was on watching and learning. I even brought my notebook (they wouldn’t let me bring my video camera) and took notes.

So now I am hard at work on my newest book, a M/M fantasy. I won’t say anything more than that. I want to build some suspense.

I don’t have a title for it either, but as I get further into the story and have the characters hashed out I am going to post an excerpt of it right here, and maybe some of you can help me come up with a title?  I’ll even make it a contest; who ever comes up with the title of my book will get a free digital copy of it.

Thanks for reading guys, talk to you all soon.

Dirty Inspiration

Lots of people ask me about the sources of inspiration for my stories. I love to answer with complete honesty, “my life, of course!” Even though I love all of my books (they’re like my babies!) HORNY HOUSEWIFE is extra special.

I wasn’t the housewife in the story. (Can you imagine me flouncing around dusting? Oh wait, I have that French Maid’s costume in the closet…) The housewife inspiration came from a friend of mine. Crissy was beautiful, even though she didn’t know it. She was also kind and would help anyone with anything. She was one of those types who volunteered for everything so she wouldn’t have to sit home and contemplate how she was married to the biggest asshole on the planet.

Of course I knew she was unhappy. My secretary at the time (God, she had a fabulous ass.) would send through her calls at least three times a day. And that was on a good day! My friend would call me sobbing from the restroom at the country club, complaining how they never had sex, and how she was ready to climb in a hole and die if someone didn’t touch her soon. I volunteered my services immediately.

HORNY HOUSEWIFE isn’t exactly what happened between us, but the scene in the gym…oh my we steamed that room up and we weren’t close to the sauna! Crissy and I became mid-afternoon lovers. I would leave for “lunch” and meet her at a nearby lunch. We’d have a glass of wine and let our hands drift under the table. It became a contest between us to see who could hold out the longest. I’d like to say that I had more willpower, but Crissy had exceptional fingers. Damn, that girl knew what she was doing. Moments later we’d be shut in a bathroom stall with our skirts hiked up and our mouths and hands all over and in each other. It got to the point where I just stopped wearing panties to the office. Crissy and I wouldn’t leave the bathroom stall until we’d both had screaming orgasms. (Kinda felt bad about the ladies who actually needed the bathroom. Sorry!)

She and her husband moved away not long after that, but we still get together to video chat when he’s out of town. And she still gives me screaming orgasms.