Welcome to Wild and Wicked Wednesdays at Behind Closed Doors! I’m thrilled to welcome back one of my “Wicked” friends and fellow erotic romance author Sheri Fredricks. Just a few days ago we helped celebrate the release of her new erotic fantasy Troll-y Yours by teasing you with the blurb and hot cover. Today, Sheri herself is here to talk a bit about a topic near and dear to my heart…talking dirty. Yep. You read that correctly. Ms. Fredricks gives us some pointers on using our voices to enhance our sexual encounters and what better way to demonstrate that then to share a SMOKING HAWT excerpt from her book?
I can’t think of anything at the moment so how about I turn things over to Sheri and let’s all get a few points in using our “naughty talk.” 😉
Talk dirty to me.
Depending on your comfort level, a little dirty talk could be anything from asking for what you want —
Talking sexy in bed enhances the sex, kicks it up for more provocative, enticing, and electrifying sex. Yes, it will turbo-charge your lovemaking.
I imagine the majority of us fall somewhere in between, and this level of comfort fluxuates as often as our mood changes. With the rise of BDSM in books, and participants are willing to learn and experiment, a little dirty talk could be taken to a whole new level.
For many, sex is as much a mental experience as it is physical. Imagine if you couldn’t make a sound. The sex just wouldn’t be as hot…as passionate…or as steamy as it could be. Sound is powerful erotic tool that can heighten pleasure, magnify feelings, and intensify orgasms.
That’s why the voice is so important to the quality of our experience.
I’ve heard it said that talking sexy is “sexy talk”: “I love the feel of your hair…the way you smell…I love everything about you.”
But some would think that’s a weak way to look at it. Rather, it’s better to think of it as “talking dirty” because the purpose is to dominantly lead your partner into sexual submission with your words:
“You like being fucked hard? I’m going to fuck you hard…take you and fuck you real hard against the wall, and then fuck you again.”
In my BBW Erotic Fantasy Romance Troll-y Yours, the heroine is too self-conscious to ask for what she wants. But her testosterone laden man knows just what she needs. Then again, she’s intuitive and knows what he needs as well.
Alek squeezed his eyes shut. The breathy sound of his name on her delectable tongue would be his undoing. But he wanted his name, his full name, to pass between her lips before he tumbled them over the edge.
“My name is Aleksander. Say it.”
He hooked his arm around one of her knees, lifting her leg high. Pulling back, he drove into her hard.
“Oh, yes! Yes…Aleksander.”
“That’s my girl.” He added a playful slap to her ass. “Say it again.”
This time Ella’s voice strained. She arched and threw her head back. “Al…Aleksander!”
“Yes, Kalos?” He pounded her in earnest now, his scrotum tightening, pressure building. If he gritted his teeth any harder, he’d chip the points off. Strain of holding back was almost painful, and he closed his eyes tight.
Ella’s short nails sank into his skin where she gripped his forearms. “I’m—Holy Titans!”
Faint spasms gripped the head of his deeply buried cock. The milking sensation moved up his shaft with increasing strength and speed. Beneath him, Ella’s body bucked. She cried out, moaning long and low. Her small hands moved to cling to his back and if she drew blood, he could really give a shit.
This was ecstasy at its peak.
The best he’d ever had.
With a subtle shift, Ella reached down and grabbed a handful of his hardworking ass, pressed him into her and forced him to lag his frantic movements.
“Gods,” he moaned. “Please.”
The slide and drag was more than he could bear, his whole body felt the sensation. Tight, wet, hot, she enveloped him. She moved beneath him in a slow pumping rhythm.
He didn’t last long.
Explosions of white-hot rapture, and he was there. Aleksander stiffened his arm braced beside her shoulder, slapped his hips once more to hers, and let loose his climax.
Buried deep, liquid energy erupted from his body into hers, creating a shockwave that ripped him in two.
Time stopped. The forest fell away. All that remained was a perfect female Troll who gathered his depleted body close.
Troll-y Yours, Book 2 of the Centaur series is available:
About the Author
A former engineering secretary, Sheri lives on the beautiful central coast of California. “I wanted to move away from inflexible right angles and create an unboxed world with no boundaries.” A voracious reader since her early years, Sheri found her brain crowded with stories and characters of her own. “Ultimately,” she says, “my husband encouraged me to write them all down.”
Sheri loves to spend time at home. A computer hutch keeps her focused on creating stories, but the panoramic view of life on a ranch will call her outside to play in the sun.
Visit Sheri Fredricks