“Dare You To” by Jillian Boyd

Hey, Lurid Listeners!

We’ve got another episode up over at the KMQ podcast, where we’re celebrating Rachel Kramer Bussel’s Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica audiobook release!
Today’s episode is titled, Dare You To, written by the lovely Jillian Boyd.

Fiancés, Kat and David are suffering from the stress of planning their upcoming wedding. With several decorative components still looming, Kat decides that, daring one another to wear sex toys while at work or while out running last minute wedding errands—without getting caught—or else they have to pay a penalty, will be just the thing to relieve all that built-up pre-wedding stress. From personal vibrators to glass butt-plugs, vibrating balls to not-so-inconspicuous nipple clamps with bells, David and Kat are about to see if they can each complete the others dare…

If you want to enter to win either an autographed copy of Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica (signed by Rachel Kramer Bussel), or the audiobook version (narrated by Rose Caraway), email Rose at: thekissmequicks (at) gmail (dot) com. Type; Come Again Giveaway in the subject line.

This #Giveaway ends on October 24th.dare-you-to_jillian-boyd

the-prototype_malin-jamesICYMI: Last week’s episode kicked off the beginning of the “Come Again” promotion, featuring a story by returning KMQ fan-favorite, Malin James. Have a listen to The Prototype here:

And in NEW NEWS!
Our production company, Stupid Fish Productions now has an official landing page! Woot! Woot! We couldn’t be more excited!
StupidFishProductions.com is where to go for all our major announcements for upcoming publications, including our entire library of Erotica. There we will also continue to host our wonderful Erotica blog tour series, featuring contributing authors’ #SexySnippets, #WriterlyWisdoms, and other fun #BehindTheScenes posts!

Most recently the incredibly talented, Adrea Kore visited, discussing the inspiration behind her brilliant, sexy, ‘based on real life’ story, Dance For Me (as featured in our latest publication, For The Men anthology). We’ve got more #SexySnippets on the way, so sign up to receive our newsletter over at our new site:  StupidFishProductions.com so you don’t miss out!

Signing up for the StupidFish newsletter will also get you a heads up on our latest Sexy Librarian interviews and our latest Calls For Submissions.


And speaking of ‘Calls For Submissions’. The Sexy Librarian, Rose Caraway is ready to put together another stunning library of Erotica. The official Call has been posted. Check out the guideline details here: The Sexy Librarian’s Dirty 30, Vol.2.

Lastly, have you had a chance to check out our latest Ebook publication? For The Men And The Women Who Love Them is now available in; Amazon, iTunes, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble, and very soon in Audible.
Our For The Men anthology blog tour is in full swing!
Head over to StupidFishProductions.com for more steamy #SexySnippets and insightful #WriterlyWisdoms!


#Sexy Snippet “Breasted” by Landon Dixon


The amount of writerly talent out there is immeasurable. With an endless sea of writers, each bringing with them their own individual styles and personalities, I was particularly struck by Landon Dixon’s…unusual language. His contributing tale, Breasted made me laugh until my face cracked. (I may have even cackled.) Today, I want to highlight Landon Dixon’s ability to make me laugh, snort, and smile ridiculously big as he clearly revels in disrupting the literary norm with his use of elaborate, artistic, knee-slapping erotic prose. I hope you enjoy today’s #SexySnippet, and this dab of #WriterlyWisdom by Landon Dixon.

“Make A List”
by Landon Dixon

This is how I always write, and talk, and act.

Just kidding. Breasted was originally written for a magazine that specialized in women’s large breasts; but, unfortunately, they’d stopped using fiction by the time I sent in the story. Since I’d sold other stories to this magazine, and other bra-busters like it, I’d, yes, actually compiled a three-page list of synonyms for breasts, about 100 or more in total; everything from ‘lung warts’ to ‘laden saddlebags’. The style of story-telling reflects my love of pulp magazines and paperback hardboiled crime fiction, as well, and the prose used therein. Frankly, I enjoy writing in this style, with a tongue-in-cheek (and between bazongas) humorous slant, and find it very easy to do so.

by Landon Dixon

I clutched Samantha’s huge, creamy-white tits. Squeezed them. Kneaded them. Sucked on the rigidly pointing pink nipples—filled my hands and my face. The babe was stretched flat on her back, on the bed—me on top of her, all over her tits. I’ve got a raging penchant for stacked broads, and this one was double-decker material.

“Fuck me, Jake!” she pleaded, writhing her blonde head around on the pillow. “Please, stick your cock inside me and fuck me!”

We were both naked, my molten rod branding her sodden pussy fur. “Not yet, baby!” I gritted. “Not ‘til I’ve worked over your luscious boobs to my heart’s content.”

I’ve been a breast man since my days back in the orphanage with the volunteer wet nurses, and Samantha had two of the biggest, boldest, firmest jugs I’d ever laid eyes or hands or lips on.

I slammed Samantha’s knockers together so that her chest and the bed shook. Then I splayed my tongue across both of her rubbery jutters at once, clenching the meat and teasing the tips.

She moaned, squirmed. Her giant breasts were sensitive as I dug my fingernails into the thick, hot masses and sucked on the pressurized caps—mouthing one nipple and tugging the other. They tasted just as delicious as they looked, I realized then that the woman’s pink pebbled areolas spanned as wide as my four fingers.

Her eyelids fluttered and her mouth gaped open. “Please, Jake! Fuck my pussy!”

My dick was more than willing and able. But it needed a little more greasing than the grinding her moist, matted pussy fur was providing. I jumped up onto my knees, straddled her heaving, heaped chest and sat down on her wet, handled tits. I rode high, soft and hot, teetering as she sucked air into her overdeveloped lungs in large gasps. Then I tilted downwards and stuck my cock into her mouth.

Samantha’s squirming red lips sealed tight around my swollen veined shaft quickly, and she started sucking. She eagerly bobbed her beautiful head forward, gobbling up more of my prong. I was stretched out and pointed downward, throbbing to my full length, and she fully consumed me with an appetite as big as her jugs.

I reveled in the wanton wet heat of her mouth and throat for a while, staring down at her bulged cheeks and flared nostrils, the wild look in her eyes. Then I pulled out. “Easy, baby,” I said, dripping into her canyonesque cleavage. “Give me a chance to get a good seat on your knockers.”

Angry impatience, rapacious hunger filled her glaring blue eyes. As I adjusted my bare butt on her more than ample chest cushions, wholly enjoying the velvety feel of the rounded smooth jug skins against my bristled buttocks, her over-engorged nipples tickled against my big, hairy, hanging balls. I found the sweet prop spot, settled in, riding high on her hooters, cock pronging skyward.

“Back in the saddle,” I sang. Then angled my thick rope of dick downward again, reentering the plush, heated confines of the babe’s mouth.

She instantly sucked, ravenously, wet-vaccing my dong like she’d bite it off if I dared try to jerk it out of her mouth again. I thrust my hips back and forth, helping her take me still deeper, along her wet, budded tongue and down past her fat tonsils. I grabbed onto her hair to steady myself, riding her tits at a trot, canting cock down her throat, using her silky blonde strands as a bridle.

She urgently sucked forward and back, shoved her mountainous mambas together so that I shot up still higher, her ultra-stiff nipples pressing into either side of my sack. I bucked, yelped, flung my head back, riding roughshod.

The woman’s maw was wet wanton heaven, her tongue a smooth sliding snake. My nipple-teased balls boiled with tension.


#ICYMI: Last week’s #SexySnippet was of Jade A. Waters’, 73A and her #WriterlyWisdom regarding Tension and Desire.





Barnes & Noble

#ComingSoon to #Audible!


Come Again Sex Toy Erotica 3000x3000
Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica
Edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel
Narrated by Rose Caraway

the-prototype_malin-jamesWe are celebrating the release of our latest audiobook!
Rachel Kramer Bussel’s, Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica. There’s a new episode up on the podcast. Malin James returns to the KMQ with her contributing story, “The Prototype”.

Come Again #Giveaway
If you want to enter the drawing to win either a copy of  the “Come Again” anthology, autographed by editor Rachel Kramer Bussel, or the audiobook, narrated by me, just email me at: thekissmequicks (at) gmail (dot) com. Type ‘Come Again Giveaway‘ in the subject line, and let us know which you’d like to win! *This giveaway ends October 24th.

#SexySnippet “73A” by Jade A. Waters

One of my favorite parts in curating anthologies is offering up a few #SexySnippets so that readers can get a sense of what to expect from a book. This time around, I’d also like to share a few #WriterlyWisdoms along the way. I find that getting extra sneak-peeks inside erotic author’s brains is like getting a little extra candy. And, perhaps, one could argue, that it fulfills my own voyeuristic side…

of Tension & Desire
by Jade A. Waters

jade-a-watersI love palpable desire. I want to read it coming through the page at such extreme levels that I can picture moments I’ve had in real life where the desire was oh so insane it almost hurt, if that makes sense. That’s exactly what I want to bring out in my stories—when I imagine a character (or at least, when I put myself in the mind of a character), I try to wrap myself up in a similar mental cocoon of moments I’ve experienced that have felt that intense. I want my characters’ lust and/or lusty love to burn so brightly it’s virtually all-consuming. Of course, there will be a plot to whatever they’re working through, but I envision them having ached for this for so very long, that the joining of their two (or three, or whatever) bodies is the inherent need for everyone involved.

To be clear, it can’t just be that they’re out for any old sex, either. I don’t
care what people say; sex is not like pizza—not all sex is good. So, in my head, my characters are after the supreme, blow-your-mind-because-nothing-else-compares kind of sex. They are so in need of it that when they appear on the page, they’re caught up in that specific moment of connectivity because they instinctually know it will lead to phenomenal sex with one another. Sometimes, it’s because of the level of feelings between them; other times, it’s simply the heat of the moment/heat of the situation (like in “73A”). We as writers tend to work in conflict and consequence—the character is trapped in this overwhelming consequence, and if they don’t overcome it, there will be consequences. I guess in that simplistic way, I imagine it as “If the character doesn’t have this amazing sex, the character will die!” They can’t just have a bad day, or stub her toe, or be mopey over missing out on the imagined sex; it’s got to be life or death. I want my readers to be just as on edge in the matter, rooting for these characters to have their primal urges satisfied.

Finally, it doesn’t hurt that I often write situations that are either turn-on’s
for me, that have been past turn-ons for me, or that are tangents/revisits/twists/extensions of moments I’ve experienced in real life. This isn’t all the time, but it certainly helps. When it isn’t the case, I go the “method writing” route and pretend it is. Hopefully, in doing so, I’m able to layer the intensity I’m after over whatever is happening between my characters on the page.

by Jade A. Waters

You’re working on my fence right now, and all I can think about is sucking yourfor-the-men_cover_final cock. It’s a startling urge, seeing as how I’ve known you as long as you’ve been working on my patio fence—two days. Plus the last three hours you’ve been squatting and bending, rolling that brush over the slats as deliberately as I want you to spread your hands over my body—but once you turn and smile at me through the glass door, it’s settled.

I check out your buddies, confirming both of them are hard at work, huffing and grunting at the far end of the enclosure. You gave one of them grief yesterday for not making enough love to his wife. Your logic was sound, and exactly the reason I called in sick today.

Well, it’s only half the reason. The rest is that I’ve realized watching you and thinking all these aching thoughts has left a wet spot on my couch.

I get up to change, and you notice. You pause midway through your roller stroke, a coat of white over the top of the slat but a dejected shade of primer on the bottom. You peer through the glass like you’re probably not supposed to do while on the job, but I don’t mind. Your eyebrows weave together, curious, so I dip my shoulder and wave with only my fingers. Once out of view I strip off my clothes, swapping my bra for one with little coverage and extra lace, then I cover it with a half-buttoned blouse. My damp yoga pants are replaced with a short skirt, and I decide panties are useless before heading back to my seat on the couch.

The wet spot there is somehow exhilarating, and I add to it a pussy already drenched in longing for what you might do if I invite you in.

You’ve gotten distracted by the other two men in my absence, but I’m ready now. I slide my legs apart a few inches, providing you a clear view should you turn around and pay attention again. I lower my hand, caressing the short fuzz that covers my outer folds before circling my clit with my fingertips.

You laugh at your partners, then check on me. The smile you had when you turned falters—not in any sort of frown, but in a particular state of confusion. This makes me excited, and I nudge my legs farther apart so you can watch.

You’re caught; you look back at them to check if they can see this, but the boys are preoccupied. Immediately, your eyes are on me. I sink into the couch, guiding my fingers over the pool of wetness between my thighs. I’m breathing heavy already, exhaling ragged sighs that I want you to amplify with your touch, but you can’t hear me with the door closed. You can only watch as I flick my index finger over my clit a few times, ratcheting the quivering of my pussy up to a tremendous ache. With my other hand, I slip inside, fucking myself with one finger as I imagine what you’d feel like plunging into me.

You’ve frozen, roller in hand. The only movement you make is a coy and upward tilt of your lips, and a slight nod of your head. I’ve begun to moan, shoving my fingers deep to ease the rising pleasure within me. You use your other hand to adjust your canvas pants, and though I can’t tell what you’re hiding inside them, I know the thought of that secret pounding me, fucking me until I scream, is making the slickness between my legs difficult to keep under control.

They say people see stars when they come—I’m beyond them, comets, asteroids, and planets rushing through my vision and colliding in a black expanse of universe-shattering ecstasy. I jam my fingers as high as I can, my legs wide for you as I give my swollen clit a few more hard swipes and grit my teeth at the intensity pouring over me, drowning me in a gush of overwhelming lust. When it passes, it leaves a wake of hunger throughout my limbs.

I may be finished, but now I need you inside me.


#ICYMI: Last week’s #SexySnippet was of Allen Dusk’s, Wayward Drift and his #WriterlyWisdom regarding World Building.





Barnes & Noble

#ComingSoon to #Audible!