Giselle Renarde's Blog, page 32

August 31, 2018

#Erotica Every Day: Let Your Fingers do the Talking

September 7

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GR4R6JW?tag=dondes-20

Let Your Fingers do the Talking© 2018 Giselle Renarde
Up all night. Spitting nails. Both so angry.

Maybe you’ve had this experience: you wake up feeling great. Peaceful. Rested. It’s a brand new day.

And then it hits you: the person you love isn’t beside you in bed. Why? Because you were up all night. Spitting nails. You won the battle, if you ended up in the bed while she slept on the couch, but what’s the point in winning if you wake up feeling like this? Like you’ve swallowed a brick.

Part of you wants to wallow in bed, but another part can’t keep still. You don’t even remember what you were fighting about.

You slip from under the covers. The morning air is frigid. Speed to the shower. Crank up the hot. Get a bit of steam going. Dive into the heat.

Hot water always feels good against your skin. Unless you’re crying. But you’re not crying. You don’t even feel like crying. You feel numb. Hopefully the water can defrost you, and hopefully, when it does, you wind up feeling warm-hearted and wonderful.

A cool blast of air hits your skin and you think the cat must have nudged open the door. That happens. But it wasn’t the cat. It was her.

She creeps into the shower, stands shivering at your back. You don’t turn around because you’re not sure if it’s a trick. Why is she doing this? Intruding on your alone time. Doesn’t she know you’re still mad at her?

Wait a minute… are you still mad at her? Your mind is as foggy as the air in here. You can’t remember who was mad at whom.

But she seems to have forgiven you. She wraps her arms around your body and, in doing so, presses her naked breasts against your back. Her nipples could cut glass. Wow. She must be cold.

A wave of compassion comes over you, and you turn around so the warm water from the shower strikes her back instead of your front. She sighs as she cuddles closer to you.

When you grab the soap, she steals it away. She rubs the bar against your front, builds up some suds, which make their way softly between your legs. One hand follows, and you take back the soap so she can use both hands.

You’re not great at saying “I’m sorry”—and that goes for the both of you. Those are tough words to get out, but sometimes you don’t have to. Sometimes all you have to do is get in the shower together and let your fingers do the talking.

https://www.audible.com/pd/B07GVS6CLV/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-126320&ref=acx_bty_BK_ACX0_126320_rh_us

Come back tomorrow for more free flash fiction!

I am so excited to be able to bring you a full month of erotica. Whether you're enjoying the text version here or the audio version at my Audio Erotica Patreon page, I just want you to know how much I appreciate the time you spend interacting with my words. There's only so much time in the day, and I'm honoured that you spend some of yours with me.

https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=p39qDwAAQBAJ

If you've missed a day or you just want to buy the entire collection of Erotica Every Day, please do! It's available as an ebook, paperback, or large print book.

Get the ebook at...
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/890972?ref=GiselleRenardeErotica
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GR4R6JW?tag=dondes-20
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=p39qDwAAQBAJ

Get the standard paperback from https://www.amazon.com/dp/1725995883/
Get the Large Print edition from https://www.amazon.com/dp/1726050483/

Get the audiobook from https://www.audible.com/pd/B07GVS6CLV/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-126320&ref=acx_bty_BK_ACX0_126320_rh_us

See you tomorrow!
Giselle Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

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Published on August 31, 2018 20:57

#Erotica Every Day: Vacuuming in Heels

September 6

Vacuuming in Heels© 2018 Giselle Renarde
God, those legs!

There’s nothing quite as titillating as watching your fine feathered friend vacuuming in heels. Would you look at the way those calf muscles strain and flex with every push and pull of the vacuum?

And the shoes: lipstick red, gleaming like gloss, so shiny the patent leather looks almost wet! Those dangerously high heels dig into the nap, leaving gaps in the carpet that can only be fixed by running the vacuum over that spot again and again. It’s an endless journey of furrowing and fixing.

The way that machine glides across the plush carpet is pretty sexy, too. Makes me think about all glorious ways we could mess it up. I have it on good authority that nothing feels quite so domestically gritty as wool carpet biting into one’s knees.

And there’s always the option of sliding across it on your back, getting burned so bad your skin cries out for soothing aloe placed there by your lover’s gentle hands.

I couldn’t possibly complain about the love of my life wearing nothing but underwear and heels to vacuum, but I also can’t put out of my mind how attractive it would be to see crinolines kissing those beautiful bare legs. Crinolines and floral fabrics, an apron even. Full June Cleaver mode. There’s something so attractive about those 1950s housewife fashions, no matter who’s wearing them.

Of course, it’s not exactly easy to get your hands on a sweet little vintage number, not these days. And even if we could, chances are they fit wouldn’t fit right. Alterations never were my strong suit, and I don’t think Robert could thread a sewing machine if you paid him.

I ask him, “Have you ever used a sewing machine, babe?”

He cups his hand behind his ear. He can’t hear me over the vacuum.

I shake off the thought, and mouth the words “never mind.”

It’s not important right now, whether or not my husband can sew. He can vacuum. That’s the important thing. He can dance that darling Dyson to the end of love—in panties and lipstick-red heels, no less.

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Published on August 31, 2018 20:57

#Erotica Every Day: She Was Big, He Was Small

September 5

She Was Big, He Was Small© 2018 Giselle Renarde
She was so big. He was so small.

By all rights, he should feel intimidated by the sheer size of her. But he wasn’t. He liked that he had to look up just to see her smile. When they danced in the dark, she held him close, cradling his face between her ample breasts. She could pick him up and spin him around if she really wanted to. But not on the dancefloor.

She took him home to her place and ducked to get through the door. Where did she buy her clothes, he wondered? Did she have to get them tailor-made, like he often did? He had trouble finding business attire, in particular, and it was easier to start from scratch.

When she undressed by the bed, he couldn’t help staring. It was only natural to stare at a naked woman—any naked woman—but her legs, her arms, her abs, her body was so muscular and fit. So impressive.

He had a fleeting thought about his own body: one of those “What will she think of me?” considerations that always came before undressing in front of someone new. But that thought fluttered past and he was left feeling only impatient to get out of his clothes.

Once he’d undressed, she picked him up and tossed him on the bed. He’d never felt so free! Flying through the air, bouncing on the mattress… this was the closest he’d get to heaven.

That’s what he thought until she grabbed his thighs, spread them open, and yanked him off the bed. Only his head and shoulders rested on the mattress.

She bowed between his legs and wrapped her full red lips around his cock.

She swallowed him in one go. Not just his shaft, but his balls too. Everything went into her mouth. Man, was it ever warm! Wet and warm and wonderfully womb-like. He couldn’t be sure whether he was hard or soft in her mouth, but it didn’t even matter. Hard or soft was the least of his concerns. All he cared about was sensation.

She sucked him, sucked his balls and his shaft, while holding him aloft. Her proportions looked giant. Those hands of hers gripped his thighs as she spread his legs in a V. Her hair danced across his naked skin, tickling him gently. She wasn’t rough, but she wasn’t soft. The way she went at him was perfect, just perfect.

In a way, he hoped he wasn’t hard. He hoped he’d never get hard. Because if he came in her throat she might stop sucking him. And he wanted this pleasure to go on for as long as they both did live.

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Published on August 31, 2018 20:57

#Erotica Every Day: Hard Bodies

September 4

Hard Bodies© 2018 Giselle Renarde
Sterile bodies in unsanitary conditions.

That’s what Markus found himself surrounded by.

The store had received a fresh shipment of mannequins, but management wasn’t quite ready for them. The contractors in charge of changing out seasonal styles weren’t scheduled until next week.

Until then, the mannequins needed to be moved out of the way.

Markus had nothing much to do. He was supposed to be serving customers, but the store had only just opened and not too many bodies filled his section in the morning. Anyway, he wasn’t great with people. He liked folding sweaters, turning disarray into neatness. Customers only got in the way.

When his boss asked him to carry the new mannequins down to the storage area, he wasn’t so sure. He’d been to storage before. It was dirty and dusty and dark. But at least it would get him off the sales floor for a little while, add some variety to his day.

The mannequins had arrived fully assembled and wrapped in plastic. Good thing, because without it, their limbs would have fallen off when he lifted them.

He could only take one at a time, pressing each moulded body against his chest as he carried it into the loading dock lift. The male models had hard chests, muscular backsides. The female ones had breasts that poked him, but their bottoms were softly curved. Curved, yet unyielding to his hands as he gripped their cheeks to keep them aloft.

This new model of mannequins was artic silver. When he got them into the dark storage space, they looked closer to grey, which made them seem like aliens. Every time he went up to grab another, he couldn’t wait to get back down. Yes, the storage space was dim and dingy. That was a consideration. But when he found himself surrounded by a circle of brand new mannequins, each one dressed in cling film, he felt perfectly at home.

They couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t mess up any sweaters. They stared straight at him but they couldn’t see. They had no eyes, no mouths. Only hard bodies. Hard grey bodies, like aliens. And when he stood in the centre of the circle he’d created, he knew he belonged only to them.

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Published on August 31, 2018 20:57

#Erotica Every Day: Early Mornings

September 3

Early Mornings© 2018 Giselle Renarde
I’ve told him a million times: “Don’t wake me.”

He always says: “But I love your warm body, all comfy in bed.”

And I reply: “That’s fine. You can love it. You can do whatever you want to it. Just don’t wake me.”

He’s never too sure about that. Seems sketchy to him, because I’m not giving consent if I’m not awake.

So I tell him: “I’m giving you consent now. You have all the consent you need. Go at it, please. Just let me sleep.”

Of course, I can’t really sleep through it all. I never believed I could. There’s a reason I granted him permission to take me as he wished. I didn’t want to have to participate fully, not in early morning lovemaking. I’m not a morning person. I can’t bring my A game when I’m barely conscious.

I’d much rather he took me.

I’m asleep on my side when I feel his hands on my breasts. He’s moulding them gently. It’s a wonderful sensation. My body is warm clay beneath the covers. I feel his hardness against my backside. He probably woke up that way. I can’t imagine him being so incredibly turned on from simply touching my breasts.

“Are you awake?” he asks, and I am but I don’t answer. The moment I respond, I’ll have to do something. And I don’t want to do anything.

Then the unthinkable happens: he begins to back off!

No! Don’t stop!

I mutter and mumble to show him I’m at least partially conscious, and that does the trick. He comes back to me. This time, he guides his marvellous erection between my slick thighs.

“God, you’re wet!” he groans, and I realize he’s right when his tip meets my slick lower lips. How did that happen? Was I aroused in my sleep, or did I get that way simply from feeling my husband’s strong hands on my breasts?

When he enters me, I’m ready for him, but that doesn’t stop me from groaning lazily. We’re side-by-side under the hot covers as he moves in me, a smooth and fluid motion. He’s deep in my body, holding me close, cupping my breasts. His stubble pricks my cheek as he shifts his face against mine.

This is what I want to wake up to, always. Sure I’ve been conscious all this time, but his gentle manipulation of my breasts coupled with his stiffness entering my body and his stubble piercing my skin makes me want to participate, actively, in our love.

I roll my hips, feeding him more of myself, and he growls and groans. We’re both so close. We get there together. Even as he comes, he says, “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was,” I assure him. “I was.”

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Published on August 31, 2018 20:57

#Erotica Every Day: Knee Socks

September 2

Knee Socks© 2018 Giselle Renarde
Hard to believe a man with a name like “Bobby” would have the audacity to call out his girlfriend for her “juvenile traits.” So what if Veronica liked wearing knee socks? So what if she bought them in argyle, in candy cane stripes, in colour blocks, in piano key patterns? Her socks were cute and they were fun.

If Bobby had a problem with that, he could shove it!

Not that Bobby was her problem any longer. They broke up more than a month ago.

Why couldn’t she stop obsessing?

She knew she needed to move on—she just wasn’t ready. She thought about him every day. Sometimes fondly. Sometimes not.

When she dressed that morning, she picked out her cute corduroy skirt. Corduroy went well with a jean jacket. Which socks, though? Big decision. How about the white ones with the pretty pink ribbons at the top?

Oh, Bobby hated those! They were probably his least favourite pair because they reminded him of baby clothes. How could he go on dating a girl who dressed like a child—at least as far as her legs were concerned?

Well, he wasn’t dating her anymore.

So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

Veronica popped in at the café on her way to work. The place was packed, but she really wanted to sit down and read her book like she did every day. She spotted one empty chair, at an occupied bistro table. A redhead with a laptop sat there working away. A young professional, just like her, though Bobby would have said no one would take her seriously thanks to the socks.

“Excuse me,” Veronica said to the woman. “Do you mind if I share your table? I’m just going to read my book. I promise I won’t bother you.”

The redhead looked up from her computer. At first, it didn’t seem as though Veronica’s words had registered. And then the young woman fixed her emerald eyes on Veronica so attentively it was almost intimidating.

She looked Veronica up and down, staring for a particularly long time at her white knee socks with the pink ribbons. Maybe Bobby was right. Maybe they were too juvenile.

“Please,” said the redhead. “Sit.”

Veronica smiled nervously as she placed her coffee on the table. She settled in, got out her book, crossed one knee over the other, and started to read.

She wasn’t sure exactly how much time had gone by when she felt something on the underside of her ankle. Her first thought was that perhaps someone walking by had kicked her, but the feeling was more gentle than that and, anyway, they were tucked away at this table. Nobody was walking by.

When the sensation moved up the underside of her calf, Veronica gripped her paperback for strength and gazed down at her leg. It was a foot! The redhead’s foot! The redhead was slowly and deliberately tracing the top of her leather shoe up the underside of Veronica’s leg!

Could this really be happening? Veronica felt dizzy when she looked around the coffee shop packed with people. Nobody so much as glanced in their direction. Most people were talking to friends or were on their phones or were typing at computers… like the redhead had been.

The pretty young professional wasn’t typing anymore. Veronica didn’t have the audacity to actually look in that direction, but she could feel the woman’s glowing green eyes on her. The hurting part of her heart felt suddenly warm, and the broken-down part punched with pride.

So what if Bobby was done with her? She was done with him too!

There were so many fish in the sea. Like this redhead across the table.

When that foot coasted all the way up to the tender and ticklish pit of her knee, Veronica found strength enough to look into the woman’s sparkling emerald eyes.

The redhead smiled and said, “I really love your socks.”

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Published on August 31, 2018 20:57

#Erotica Every Day: Trust Me

September 1

Trust Me© 2018 Giselle Renarde
I’m fully naked.

She’s fully dressed.

Under cover of darkness, she’s managed to convince me to come out with her, out to the back garden. This is so unlike me, to be naked outdoors. Just her backyard, you might say, but a backyard is still visible to neighbours. Sure it’s three in the morning. Sure she’s got a high wooden fence. But say the couple next door can’t sleep. Say they get out of bed to look out the second storey window. That hedge would probably block their view, but you never know. You just never know.

I curl my arms around my bare breasts as she sits on the stone bench. When she sees me concealing my nakedness, she takes hold of my hands. She stretches my arms out at my sides to get a good look at me.

Does she like what she sees? I wish she’d give me some indication. I’ve betrayed my boundaries for her. The least I deserve is a nod or a smirk.

Instead, she tugs me into her lap—no, not so I’m sitting. The other way. She’s upended me. She’s got my ass in the air. She’s got my head hanging so close to the ground I can smell the damp aroma of earth and grass in the pre-dawn hours.

I steady myself, palms pressing against the thick, lush lawn. Why would she overturn me like this? Well, that question’s got an easy answer. Why else would she expose my ass to the cool night air?

My bare skin tremors as she circles her hand slowly around one cheek, then the other. She doesn’t have to tell me she loves my ass. That much is obvious. It shows in the way she touches it gently, touches the smoothness of my skin. It shows, also, in the way she strikes my innocent flesh so firmly it rattles my bones.

I wish I had something to bite down on or scream into, but I have nothing out here. Only the crisp night air, and you can’t bite that. Every time she smacks my ass, it burns like the fires of hell. Every spanking lands in the perfect place, centered on one cheek or the other. My skin blazes with every blow.

Imagine if I were to scream each time her hand slapped my poor naked skin. Imagine if I were to let loose, wriggle and writhe and cry like I do indoors. Imagine if I were to do all that out here.

The neighbours would come to the window for sure. They’d call the cops, most likely.

She must know I’d never do that to her. She must trust me that much.

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Published on August 31, 2018 20:57

August 26, 2018

Exciting News About #Erotica Every Day: 30 #FlashFiction Stories

Exciting News!

I'm sure I'm not the only person on the planet who needs to look forward to something. And when September rolls around, signalling the end of summer, this can be a tough time for many of us.

That's why I've planned something special for September. A little extravaganza for you and me.

See, I've written a brand new book of flash fiction called Erotica Every Day--so named because it includes 30 stories, one for every day of the month. I guess a new book should be exciting in and of itself... but after 12 years as a writer... it's not. I mean, it's great and all, but not jump-for-joy great.

But you know what is jump-for-joy great?

Coming up in September, I'm going to post every story from Erotica Every Day right here on the blog!

That means you'll be able to read brand new fetish fiction for free!

Here's how it's going to work: on the 1st of the month, the 1st story goes up. I post it (I'm thinking I'll do that each day at midnight), you read it. But wait! On the 2nd day of the month, the 1st story comes down and the 2nd goes up! That means if you show up on the 14th, you won't be able to read 14 stories. You'll read one. Just like every other day.

You snooze, you lose.

Well, not really, because if you miss any of the stories or you just really like them, you are more than welcome to buy Erotica Every Day as an ebook and in print. There's also a large print edition which is available now, and an audiobook that should be available in the next couple weeks.

If you don't want to wait or you won't be internetting in September, please do buy the book. It's full of fetishy goodness.

In fact, why don't I tell you the story of Erotica Every Day? You like stories, right?

Well, I do, so I'm telling it.

Over the past couple years, a lot of the publishers I worked with early in my career went out of business. As a result, I got my rights back on a lot of books. The influx of old works meant I was spending all my time republishing old stuff, and zero time writing new stuff. Months and months and months went by when I wasn't writing at all.

One day I looked at my computer, and I asked it, "Do I even know how to write anymore?"

It didn't answer, because I don't have one of those fancy computers that talks to you. So I had to answer my own question. And the answer was, "I don't know."

But I had an idea.

I decided to start every day by writing one flash fiction story. Well, that's a bit of a lie because I actually start every day drinking a cup of tea (I quit coffee a year and a half ago--did I mention that?) and reading.

Often, whatever I was reading that morning would give me a little flicker of inspiration, and I'd go off and flash away. Other days, I'd seek out inspiration from a list of fetishes Sweet and I came up with. That's why this is such a fetish-driven collection. Or, what do they say on those cooking shows? "Fetish-forward." And now you're wondering what kind of cooking shows I watch. heh.

The audiobook came about in a strangely similar way. Actually, the similarities are eerie.

This summer I was working on recording a novel of mine when I came down with a case of strep. I took my strep on my family vacation, and when I came home it was cured (thanks to antibiotics, not my family) but my voice was fucked. I couldn't record more than 5 minutes of audio at a time. My voice would crack, break, my throat would start to burn, I'd worry the strep was simply dormant and pushing myself too hard might bring it back.

I was really frustrated. Audio recording is an essential aspect of my writing business at the moment. It worried me that I couldn't work.

And then I thought about this book of flash fiction.

A lot of these stories clock in around the 5 minute mark. They were the perfect length to get me back on my feet again. I really don't know what I would have done with out them. I owe my flashers a debt of gratitude.

I also owe my Patreon patrons a debt of gratitude. I owe them weekly audio erotica, too. But in September I'm going one better. Or six better. Or something. Anyway, Audio Erotica patrons will be able to listen to a new story EVERY DAY throughout September. If you've been thinking about becoming a patron, this is the time to do it.

I am so excited to be able to bring you a full month of erotica. Whether you're enjoying the text version here or the audio version at my Audio Erotica Patreon page, I just want you to know how much I appreciate the time you spend interacting with my words. There's only so much time in the day, and I'm honoured that you spend some of yours with me.

Oh, and if you want to get a jump on things and buy Erotica Every Day as an ebook, paperback, or large print book, here are some links for you.

Get the ebook at...
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/890972?ref=GiselleRenardeErotica
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GR4R6JW?tag=dondes-20
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=p39qDwAAQBAJ

Get the standard paperback from https://www.amazon.com/dp/1725995883/
Get the Large Print edition from https://www.amazon.com/dp/1726050483/

See you in September!
Giselle
https://www.patreon.com/posts/20971872Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

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Published on August 26, 2018 19:42

August 24, 2018

New #Audiobook: Milady's Bath #Lesbian #Erotica

Milady’s Bath
Paranormal Erotic Shorts
Written and Read by Giselle Renarde

Manor housemaid Elizabeth will never understand her mistress' behavior. Why slip out the window every time the moon is full only to return with her flesh torn and her gown tattered? A beast must be involved, as "Milady" always returns ready for a bath.

Elizabeth can't imagine why her mistress returns to the mysterious creature's rough embrace month after month. Why not stay home and enjoy the maid's loving caress?

This paranormal lesbian romance contains explicit erotic encounters.

Look for Milady's Bath at your favourite source for audiobooks, including:
Scribd: https://www.scribd.com/audiobook/382506285/Milady-s-Bath
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/audiobook/milady-s-bath-3
Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/Erotica-Sexuality/Miladys-Bath-Audiobook/B07F6S2QFCGiselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

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Published on August 24, 2018 22:39

August 18, 2018

A Playlist for Cherry #NewAdult #MayDecember #Erotica

Remember how much I love music?

Last year I put together a playlist on YouTube, of songs that fit the mood of my novel In Shadow.

https://donutsdesires.blogspot.com/2015/02/randombookiwrote-wednesday-cherry.html

Today I've done the same for my book Cherry.

While In Shadow was dark and brooding, Cherry is really rather cheery. And so is the music I've selected for this playlist. I've been working on it for over a year, jotting down any song that matched the tone of Cherry: playful, saucy, and teasingly seductive.

It's mostly indie rock with a hint of the 80s. Or maybe it's the other way around. There's a lot of music from the 80s in there. Actually, I'll tell you why, while I have you on the line: a lot of the 70s and 80s music is stuff we listen to at the cottage. We always tune the radio to Moose FM, and that whole station just reminds me of summertime and family vacations. Since Cherry is set in the summertime (and during a family vacation), the radio station and this novel have sort of fused in my mind. You can also blame the Moose for the Bare Naked Ladies song on this playlist. Or thank them, depending on your level of affection for the group.

Anyway, you can buy Cherry anywhere ebooks are sold. It's also available in print.

If you're a little light on cash, you can also read Cherry at Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/119783265-cherry

Just make sure to have my special playlist on in the background. It doesn't sync up to Cherry (or to The Wizard of Oz), but would you believe me if I said it did?

“What about you, Phil? Are you desperate enough for a blow-up doll?”

Recently-divorced Phil is the last man in the world who should turn Cherry’s head. He’s her father’s best friend, for goodness’ sake! Their love is forbidden, but the forest isn’t big enough to keep two lovelorn people apart… even if they’re totally wrong for each other.

Cherry is an erotic New Adult novel from award-winning author Giselle Renarde. Read it absolutely FREE at Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/119783265-cherry

And listen to my fun and exciting playlist! I made it to connect with you, human to human, ear to ear, through music.
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLBo2GKvlzg5IEpyuVJ0t1LkqvGUt0xMebGiselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

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Published on August 18, 2018 19:45

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