It takes a wealth of collected experiences, emotions, successes and failures to craft the personality of a true Alpha Male
Jack Gordon, real estate broker, licensed builder, Juris Doctorate, has had his fair share of strife. His ability to cope, to fall down and pick himself back up has lead him to a place where he believes he has it all. Friends, money, cars, more women than he can count, and a club in Detroit where he can exorcise his inner demons, fill his days and his nights.
When he walks up to a penthouse door on a hot Ann Arbor summer afternoon, frustrated, exasperated and ready to call it quits after hours of condo shopping with a wealthy couple, the last thing on his mind is meeting his destiny.
House Rules: The Jack Gordon Story. A prequel novella of the Stewart Realty Series.
Expert:
Détente existed once more between Jack and his father, although Jack could hardly look at the man without remembering his words, what he said about Mindy, the woman he’d paid to fuck his own son.
A soft hand on his arm startled him. He turned, smiled, and accepted the cup the blonde girl held out.
“Thanks, gorgeous.” He leaned into her. “What a scene, huh?” He sipped, not looking at her but sensing her gaze on him. He knew he looked great. Between the pure physical labor he put in daily on the job sites, lugging drywall, holding up trusses, hammering, and carrying every manner of tools around, he also ran every morning without fail, and did three hundred sit-ups and push-ups no matter how tired he was. The routine of it soothed him, helped him forget, for a moment, his fucked-up family life and that he had but a few more weeks before he could escape to college.
Worry about leaving his sister behind tickled at his conscience but Mo seemed at ease with her relationship with their father for now. She was a tough cookie and had a solid set of friends around.
The discipline Jack imposed on himself felt great. The punishing exercise coupled with the long hours of work and determined study so he could achieve beyond what his asshole father expected of him centered him, gave him purpose. Well, that and what he was about to do with the lovely female now under his arm, giggling and running her hand up his thigh.
He tugged her inside, down to the basement, needing a connection so badly his teeth ached. She sighed as he eased her down on the couch, kissing her gently but with purpose, increasing his pressure slowly as his cock sprang to attention under his swim trunks.
“Mmm…this feels promising,” she declared, reaching into his shorts.
He smiled into her mouth. He’d found one with a little experience—a pleasant change of pace. She brushed her thumb across his head, making him shiver. “Hope you’re prepared, big boy,” the girl said with a touch of awe in her voice when she looked down at what she had in her hand.
Jack sighed and leaned over to snag a condom from the supply he kept in the drawer of a rarely-used table in the corner. “Like a Boy Scout, sweetheart,” he said, handing it to her.
She grinned and stood, slipping out of her barely-there bikini and standing in front of him in all her curvy glory. He licked his lips, sat up, and yanked her hips close so he could bury his face between her legs. She gripped his hair then pushed back, forcing him to flop over onto the couch so she could straddle his face.
He groaned and flicked at the tender button of flesh. He loved pussy, loved looking at it, licking it, watching it come to life under his careful attention. The girl was moist, her folds were soft, and she tasted like the sweetest honey.
He sucked her clit, slid a finger inside, and moaned as she gripped him hard. The knee-jerk girls were the best, he had discovered. They came fast and typically had no clue that they were among the rarest of women—the multi-orgasmic—and his favorite.
He looked up, watched her cup her own breasts and tug her nipples. Perfect, just perfect. He reached in at an angle, seeking that bundle of nerves most women possessed, right behind her pubic bone.
“Jesus,” he yelped, nearly coming out of his skin when a soft set of lips encircled his dick and a finger traced down his balls and lower. “Baby, I didn’t know this was gonna be a party,” he whispered.
The girl looked down at him and smiled, angling her hips so he kept going as the other girl sucked his cock like a pro, until he couldn’t hold back another minute. The girl on his face came again too, completing the moment. The other girl still palming his balls moaned and jerked forward again, and again. Girl number one climbed off him, and Jack put his arms under his head and watched girl number two get fucked by his friend from behind. “Nice,” he said, admiring the way her tits bounced.
“Her idea,” Brandis ground out then closed his eyes and pounded harder. Jack reached down to fondle girl number two’s clit, making her eyes fly open at the last minute. Her lips were so full. He had to kiss them. So he did, and all was well for everyone in the room.
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The Mechanics of the Joy of Sex
By Liz Crowe
So we all love a hot scene. We would not be here, at a blog called “We Love Lady Porn,” otherwise. The whole “erotica vs. porn” thing has been beaten into submission. We all know that it simply does not matter what you call it—if you like to read about sex, or watch it happening, it’s your prerogative. I personally enjoy both (reading and watching) but only if a few basic rules are followed (for my taste).
For one, the sex should be integrated into the story, not just exist on its own, just for the sake of penetration. That’s why I avoid conventional pornography. I prefer to watch Premium cable shows like Spartacus, or DaVinci’s Demons, or any number of other shows that are hot, sexy, and well written. No, they are not showing any penetration or actual erections. But I find that some of that is hotter if left to my (admittedly fevered) imagination.
Similarly, I enjoy a book that does a couple of things—has a sensual, interesting, and compelling lead in to the sex. With characters I give a rip about because they have been presented to me in a way (i.e. well written) that makes me want them to get together. Also, the sex itself needs to be less “he inserted his penis into her vagina” (or fill in the penetrator and penetrated as you see fit, based on your taste) and more about sensations, feelings, and how the people involved are connecting not only on a physical level but also what’s going on in their brains.
This is tougher than it looks, from an author’s perspective.
I will even accept it when a couple gets to the edge, I get to read about a sensual kiss and a first touch, and then I see them the next morning IF it makes more sense within the arc of the actual story being told. I like plot with my sex, and if need be sometimes plot without it. The trend lately—to force sex into a story when it’s an obviously glaring attempt to spice up a saggy plot—is disturbing. But rest assured, when you read a Liz Crowe book, you will get characters you care about, a plot that makes you want to keep reading, and when the sex happens you will need a cold shower. But it won’t be in there “just” to be in there.
We all have our tastes, and there are plenty of folks who only want the sex. I get that. But I write what I like to read—and I’m told that my plots are some of more realistic ones many readers have experienced.
HOUSE RULES is the prequel to the top selling Stewart Realty series. I wrote it so that my current fans can get a taste of the Jack Gordon back story but also to draw a few more folks into the fold. It is free on the publisher’s site and only .99 every where else.
Happy Reading (or watching, whichever)!
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Microbrewery owner, best-selling author, beer blogger and journalist, mom of three teenagers, and soccer fan, Liz lives in the great Midwest, in a major college town. Years of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as an ex-pat trailing spouse, plus making her way in a world of men (i.e. the beer industry), has prepped her for life as a successful author.
When she isn’t sweating inventory and sales figures for the brewery, she can be found writing, editing or implementing promotions for her latest publications. Her groundbreaking literary fiction subgenre, “reality fiction,” has gained thousands of fans and followers who are interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”)
Her beer blog a2beerwench.com is nationally recognized for its insider yet outsider views on the craft beer industry. Her books are set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch and in high-powered real estate offices. Don’t ask her for anything “like” a Budweiser or risk painful injury.
For more information on Liz Crowe, please visit her website www.lizcrowe.com or www.brewingpassion.com (her author blog). She enjoys interacting with her fans on her Facebook author page www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor. Information for all of her books, including eBook and print formats (where available), can be found on her Amazon author page.
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2 comments:
thanks for hosting me!
Loved the prequel! Learned a lot about Jack and his history.
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