Joyce McCarthy's Blog, page 3

Launching the cover of my upcoming erotic thriller

Hello people,

Here’s a sneak peek of the cover of my upcoming book – Trails of Sin

Trails of Sin is set in London and is a thriller seeped in corporate scandals, lust and retribution with a strong undercurrent of selfless love.

I would LOVE to know your views on the cover.

Please do share with your friends and spread the word!

xoxo

Joyce McCarthy

 

 

Surrendering

Bliss…

Hunger at daybreak

As the first rays of the sun seeped in through the cracks in the curtains, he opened his eyes. His arm was still around her. She was still asleep, her smooth bare back on his chest, his nose behind her ears. He woke up with a throbbing erection, pressed on the warm smoothness of her rear cheeks. They had never bothered to get dressed after their torrid lovemaking the previous night. And he craved for her smell, her taste and her warmth all over again.

He crawled under the black satin sheet and had his head between her lush creamy thighs. He sniffed his way to her grotto and his tongue tasted raw searing heat as it cruised languidly in long strokes. It traversed from her already stiff clitoris raising its rose-bud head between the puffed lips of her vagina still hurting from the excesses of last night. As his prying fingers spread her apart, his tongue dived into the musky red warmth of her vagina. It wandered aimlessly on the soft fleshy bridge between her vagina and her anus. It painted her ample rear cheeks slick with the saliva. And it ventured inside her arse – lapping up the sticky furry inner walls, and then the ridges of the brown sticky rear gateway. He could sense the sweat trickling down his muscular back as the moist heat built up relentlessly under the sheet.

As she felt his roving tongue all over, accompanied by the fire of his breath and the wanton kisses of his thick lips and the pleasurable pain of his nibbles here and there, she started her day with a deep throaty moan that filled the air of the motel room – even as she felt the waves sweeping across her guts in wild abandon. She bucked her hips in unbridled wildness and thrust herself closer to his face – if she could get any closer. Her fingers grabbed his long sweaty hair under the sheet as he dived deeper – if he could dive any deeper.

Open Arms, Closed Doors

They were in his apartment. It had been raining for a while – the summer dust washed away from the streets, street lights reflecting on them, the smell of wet earth filling the monsoon air. It was just the two of them in there – the room half-lit, half-dark. They looked into each other’s eyes, their palms sweating together, their fingers laced with one another – not a word exchanged. The air inside the room was thick with sexual tension of the sort none of them had ever felt before.

He could see beads of sweat on her forehead, on the tip of her nose and above her lips. She looked stunningly attractive in a polka dot skirt that ended above her knees, and a crop top that barely covered her full breasts. Her navel gazed innocently at him. The curve of her waist, revealed to his eyes, looked sensuous – or, fetching was the right word. There was a hint of her deep cleavage over the deep neck of her top and her heaving breasts. There was a semi-circle of sweat near her underarms. Yes, both of them were on fire.

She freed her hand and walked away up to his study desk. His eyes were fixed on the inviting sway of her full hips. He followed her instinctively and took her in a hug from the back – his curious lips moving up and down along the sides of her neck. She shivered. He saw goosebumps all over her upper arms.

Her eyes were reduced to narrow white slits as he nibbled on her earlobes. His lips were all over hers as she threw your head back, resting on his shoulder. Her lips parted slowly. And his tongue slithered in like a snake and caressed hers. The saliva flowed relentlessly between their thirsty mouths. Their teeth rubbed against each other as they kissed with unbridled passion. Not a single corner of their mouths was left unexplored by their tongues.

He slowly slipped his hands under her moist underarms and gently cupped her soft tender breasts from the back. He could see the sweat shining on her cleavage. The other hand moved all over her smooth warm belly. Eager fingers slipped inside the depth of her navel. They were restless – trying to slip past the edge of her skirt, eager to explore where they had never been.

She felt his warm hardness on her rear cheeks – warm and smooth. She felt his hand gliding inside the neckline of her top and feeling her warm breasts over the flimsy bra as they strained to hold back her heaving breasts, rising and falling in rhythm with her deep heavy breathing. He felt the stiffness of her nipples. A throaty moan escaped her moist lips as his fingers started playing with her nipples – the tip of his thumb rubbing on each nipple over the lacy excuse of a bra.

He bent over and tasted the salt of her skin – his warm lips planted soft wet kisses all over her face – her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her smooth cheeks warm and flushed, her moist lips, the tip of his tongue probed inside her ears, he breathed warm on her neck, he kissed her bare shoulders slick and round , his nose rubbed against her  damp underarms with the most feminine yet animal aroma, the tip of his tongue cruised down that tight cleavage between her heaving breasts, his face was on the expanse of her warm belly, his tongue in and out of her navel and still lower – till she was glossy all over with the June sweat and traces of his saliva, decorated here and there with marks of lust left by his teeth and his nails.

 

She bent over that study-desk. Her shapely bottom, barely covered by the skirt stared him in the face, almost inviting him. He took a step back and looked – and kept looking. And then he moved closer to her. He let his warm palms cruise gently all over her rear cheeks over the skirt. He loved the way they felt under his palms – warm and cuddly. He kept increasing pressure till he was fondling all over her cheeks as she instinctively swayed them in an intoxicating rhythm. He rolled her damp panties well past her knees – she impatiently wriggled out of it.

The air in the room was heavy with a familiar feminine fragrance – her growing wetness announcing her uncontrollable arousal. And he felt thirsty for her.

He lay down on the soft carpet, pulling her down on him as he fell. He raised that skirt and made her straddle his face – her thighs on both sides of his face. Her tight, puckered anus was right on his sharp nose, the warm slippery vagina on his mouth. She smelt tantalizingly good on his face. Her aroma stronger than ever, her impatience mounting by the minute as she suffocated him with her wild motions as she pressed herself down on his face and moved around all over his prickly stubble.

He parted her warm flushed rear cheeks and licked her in long strokes from her stiff clitoris, deep inside her inflamed vagina, the soft bridge of flesh between her vagina and her anus, and then deep inside her bottom. His tongue moved inside her vagina in circles, churning out her gooey secretions. They made his face sticky, as his pointed nose, his warm moist lips, his wanton tongue, his teeth and his unkempt stubble teased her all over and drove her mad.

She bent over to take his stiff penis inside her mouth. He felt her lips on the engorged tip, and then the head was lost in the moist warmth of her eager mouth. As she bent, she herself opened up wider on his face and he thrust his hips instinctively making love to her mouth, tasting her delectable offerings all the time.

They came almost at the same time. He felt the spasms rising from the depths of her gut, taking his fingers inside her anus and his tongue buried inside her vagina in firm grip as his own thick warm cream dribbled down the sides of her mouth. They were sweating profusely, and as they collapsed on the carpet together, the room smelling of sex, they were one naked slick mass of flesh that could barely be called apart.

Pleasuring herself

As she read through his letter, she realized she was feeling warm – a few drops of sweat above her lips, on the tip of her nose, behind her crimson ears. She was breathing faster. She could sense her nipples getting taut. She knew they had gone very hard and were probably visible over her top.

She wished someone could touch and kiss those nipples. She wished someone could gently massage her breasts and soothe the pleasurable ache she felt there. She could feel the wetness spreading between her thighs and the searing heat there.

Even without seeing, she knew there was a wet patch forming on her panty between her thighs. Maybe the patch would soon spread to her pants as well. She squeezed her thighs together. She was throbbing between her thighs with her want. She ran her hands all over her thighs, caressing them slowly. The heat and the wetness between her thighs increased by the minute. She needed to touch. She looked around her one more time. There was no one.

She slowly pulled her chair closer to the desk and opened her thighs. She slid a hand between her thighs cupping her throbbing vagina. She could sense the wetness on her fingers. She started moving her hand all over her soft burning wetness as she pressed her thighs together with the hand in between them. Clamping herself down on the chair, she started moving back and forth, rubbing herself on the chair. Her palm pressing hard on her vagina, Iona badly needed a release.

She got up and walked quickly up to the ladies’ room. Getting into a stall, she closed the door and in no time, opened her pants. The tight pink panty stuck to her skin, wet with her secretions, cutting into her soft flesh, lost in the tight crevice of her bottom, leaving a lot of her rear cheeks bare. She sat down on the toilet seat and lowered her panty to reveal her naked charms. She ran her hands all over and moaned unconsciously – she had grown so wet and sticky. Her fingers got wet.

She opened her thighs further. She could feel the tight clitoris almost sticking out between her fleshy labia. She put her thumb on it and slowly moved it round and round. She felt like screaming out.

She imagined it was his lips there as he ate her. Her eyes closed, breathing hot and heavy as she caressed her puffed up lower lips.

She gingerly pulled open the lips – like petals of a flower. The sticky juice made threads between the lips and her fingers as she opened herself.

The insides were red hot and slippery. She touched inside. She shivered with her own touch. There were goosebumps on her skin. She took out her finger. She poured some liquid soap on it from the dispenser – so her finger got more slippery and slowly slid in. She moaned out as she moved it in and out, moving it inside in circles – her juices oozing out on her thighs, on the toilet seat. She moved another finger in and then, another. She thrust her body back on the toilet seat. She spread herself more – moving her fingers in and out. With the other hand, she squeezed her breasts clumsily over the top, playing with the tips of her stiff nipples.

Shivering in the throes of passion, sweating profusely, she ran her hands all over her slippery wet vagina, the bridge of soft flesh between her vagina and her anus, and fingering her brown puckered anus with that wet slippery finger – wet from the secretions trickling out from her vagina down the cleft of her bottom.

She sensed she was heading towards a shattering orgasm. The muscles on her abdomen got tight, there was a delicious throbbing inside her vagina and her anus that she could feel on her fingers. She felt like screaming out, as her orgasm hit. She was squirting, flooding her fingers, her thighs and anus all wet and slippery from her incessant secretions.

She was drenched in sweat as she pulled her panties and her trousers up and proceeded to unbolt the toilet door.