Constantly Chrissie

"The Nympho Librarian" reviewed in "The Paris Review"

2012-02-05T09:16:00.000-08:00

An amazing feature on the history of Librarian Porn, with The Nympho Librarian center stage!

Porn books and librarians have always had a passionate, mutually defining relationship—it was, in fact, a prudish French librarian in the early nineteenth century who coined the word pornography. So it comes as no surprise that the sexy librarian, a fixture of the pornographic imagination, is most at home in books. Each year, new titles are added to the librarian-porn bookshelf. This past season’s crop included additions like Hot for Librarian by Anastasia Carrera; Lucy the Librarian—Dewey and His Decimal by John and Shauna Michaels; The Nympho Librarian and Other Stories by Chrissie Bentley and Jenny Swallows; A Librarian’s Desire by Ava Delaney, author of the Kinky Club series; and soft-core selections like Sweet Magik by Penny Watson. The conventions of the form—the dimly lit stacks, the librarian’s mask of thick glasses and hair tied into a bun, et cetera—are, of course, well known. Unlike video porn, where these conventions are typically used as a wholesale substitute for narrative, porn books still feel the compulsion to tell a story, to make the glasses and bun mean something. I was curious just what story these new books were telling. What does our most current version of the librarian fantasy say about us? To answer this question, I visited the library.

READ THE REST

The library sex fantasy has, in other words, entered an apocalyptic period. “Throw me on my back in the dark room with the microfiche,” says the narrator of “Checking Out,” the final story of 2011’s Nympho Librarian. “Fuck me amidst the relics of a world that progress threw away.” And in the eyes of the next generation, whose view isn’t sweetened by nostalgia, things look even bleaker. In another story from Nympho we overhear the devastating comment of a brash young paramour—a boy with no memory of a world before Google—as he pinions his elder librarian mistress to a shelf of Russian lit (“not a section of the library that received many visitors”).

“I like your hair down like that,” he says, “it makes you look abandoned.”

$2.99 KINDLE AND NOOK SALE

2012-01-07T07:15:00.001-08:00

From now till January 31, (almost) all my Kindle and Nook e-book editions are available for $2.99.

THE NYMPHO LIBRARIAN AND OTHER STORIES
Eleven scalding tales of lust and love in the halls of public learning - the town library!

The sex is hot, but the librarians are hotter, as authors Chrissie Bentley and Jenny Swallows reveal the lip-smacking truth about what goes on behind (and on top of, and around as well) the bookshelves.

Includes the tales THE NYMPHO LIBRARIAN, SILENCE IN THE LIBRARY, COUSIN TOM’S FIRST BLOWJOB, CUM BREATH, THE LIBRARIAN’S CHRISTMAS STOCKING, THE STUDENT BODY, STICKY FINGERS, MY CIVIC DUTY, WATCHING THE CLOCK, THOROUGHLY MODEM MISS and CHECKING OUT.

KINDLE EDITION buy it now just $2.99

NOOK EDITION buy it now

THE FIRST TIME & 59 OTHER MAGIC MINUTES is a breathtaking compendium comprising no less than SIXTY sexsational verses, tracing her sexual journey from inquiring teen to amorous adult, from backstreet assignations to the sanctity of marriage - and beyond.

Poetry will never seem the same again.
KINDLE EDITION buy it here
NOOK EDITION buy it here

THREE NUNS AND A MOTORCYCLE
A lipsmacking collection of short stories and book excerpts, including highlights from all of my novels and novellas, plus previously unpublished adventures for Ambrose Horne and Cousin Tom, and much more.
KINDLE EDITION - buy here

NOOK EDITION buy it here

COUSIN TOM'S MOTORBIKE AND OTHER STORIES
Seven hot new erotic adventures with the Rocky Mountains' raunchiest couple. Follow Cousin Rose and Cousin Tom as they hump and bump their way through Monroe CO - includes the stories "Cousin Tom's First Motorbike," "Cousin Tom's Revenge," "Cousin Tom Slips Behind," "Cousin Tom & The Sisters of Mercy," and more!
KINDLE EDITION buy here

NOOK EDITION buy here

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION
Everybody says you should never mix business with pleasure. But my vacation had already been squeezed in between a couple of work assignments, and I was a single girl in a foreign country. What did I expect might happen?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation is a non-stop whirl of sight-seeing and sex, historic England seen from angles that the tourist guides never mention. And you wouldn't believe my holiday snaps!

KINDLE EDITION buy here

NOOK EDITION buy here

SOHO BY SPOTLIGHT

KINDLE EDITION buy here

NOOK EDITION buy here
In London in the 1960s, pornography was a man’s world.

Stag movies and blue films were viewed by men, written by men, directed by men and filmed by men. If they hadn’t needed actresses to play a part on camera, they would probably have been made by men as well.

And then a woman came along, and changed that world completely.

This is her story.

DON’T FORGET TO BREATHE contains six full-length, red hot tales of lust, love and the most explosive oral sex imaginable. That’s around fifty pages of sucking, blowing and, of course, swallowing. Because good girls don’t spit.

KINDLE EDITION buy here

NOOK EDITION buy here

Now available for Nook readers

2011-12-22T06:05:00.001-08:00

Great news for Nook book readers....

The First Time & 59 Other Magic Minutes, the first collection of my erotic verse, is now available for Nook readers from Barnes & Noble, price 2.99

And still available - Kindle edition; print edition

The Nympho Librarian and Other Stories

2011-12-19T05:02:00.001-08:00

Eleven scalding tales of lust and love in the halls of public learning - the town library!

BUY IT NOW from Kindle just $2.99

BUY IT NOW print edition

EXCERPT
THE LIBRARIAN'S CHRISTMAS STOCKING

Firm fingers pulled my pussy apart although it needed very little encouragement. I was wet even before his tongue lapped the pink, could feel the panties he’d dragged down sopping against my stockinged foot, and the tight fawn skirt bunched against my back and that, too, felt moist. Ridiculously, I hoped it had not stained, then feeling ridiculous, I stifled a cry out as his tongue pushed inside my folds.

He twirled it around, then looked up at me. “You like that.” It was a statement, not a question, and my hand fell to the back of his head, gentle pressure the only answer he needed. But he resisted and his eyes flashed in the harsh fluorescents that buzzed above us.

I was standing on one foot, the other braced against a bookshelf, my foot inching a far volume backwards. 891.7 - Russian literature. Not a section of the library that received many visitors, especially this close to Christmas, but the occasional voice from the far end of the room reminded me that we were not yet closed for business, and here I was with a stranger on his knees and his mouth... his mouth... he licked again and I bit my lip to keep from moaning, which was not the response he expected. Because now his tongue was flat against me as his fingers pulled me wider, long sweeps that stopped short just a wriggle from my clitoris, so that’s what I did. I wriggled a little but he was faster, rocking back on his heels and blowing instead, a sharp rush of warm air that collided with my liquid lust, and I turned my head to bite the arm that clung for support to the top of the shelf. 817 - American literature, satire and humor.

One finger inside me, then two and his mouth again, circling my clit, teasing it, teasing me. He broke again. “I like your hair like that.” It hung loose below my shoulders. “It makes you look abandoned.”

Abandoned. I could only imagine what else I looked like, my glasses pushed up to my forehead so they wouldn’t bump his face when we kissed, my blouse half unbuttoned and one bra cup twisted down and around, when his fingers grazed my nipples and his teeth bit sharp around them. My skirt round my waist, my panties on the ground and a guy two-thirds my age, with two-thirds of his hand sunk deep inside me, licking out the fantasy that he’d texted me this morning.

all i wnt 4 xmas is 2 lick a lbrns cunt

==================================

A true story? Perhaps. But I'll say one thing - I had no idea that librarians were the stuff of male fantasies until I actually started to work as one. And to prove this is not just some twisted Jenny fantasy, brought on by too many eggnogs behind the biology shelves, here's a fascinating paper on librarian imagery in the media, followed by a catalog of 70s librarian porn novels, as compiled by blogger memetician.

Bang the Librarian Hard.
Campus Lust.
Chained, Whipped Librarians
Eager Beaver Librarian.
Eager to Spread Librarian.
Eager Young Librarian.
First Rear Entry.
Helpful Head Librarian.
Horny Balling Librarian.
Horny Hot Librarian.
Horny Licking Librarian.
Horny Peeping Librarian
Hot Bed Librarian.
Hot, Licked Librarian.
Hot Loving Librarian.
Hot Mouth Librarian.
Hot Pants Librarian.
Hot to Trot Librarian.
The Hottest Librarian
In Heat Librarian
Lash the Librarian!
A Librarian Enslaved.
The Librarian Gets Hot.
Librarian in Bondage.
Librarian in Chains.
The Librarian Licks Big Ones
The Librarian Loves It
The Librarian Loves to Lick.
The Librarian Slave.
The Librarian With the Hots.
The Librarian's Boys.
The Librarian's Hot Fun.
The Librarian's Hot Lips.
The Librarian's Hot Urges.
A Librarian's Training.
Licking the Librarian.
Line Up for the Librarian.
Naughty Voyeur Librarian.
Nympho Librarian.
The Oral Librarian.
Overeager Librarian.
Raped and Roped Librarian.
Sally - Sexy Librarian.
Sex Behind the Stacks.
Three-way with the Librarian.
What a Librarian!

Don't Forget To Breathe

2011-12-11T06:17:00.000-08:00

DON'T FORGET TO BREATHE by Chrissie Bentley and Jenny Swallows
DON’T FORGET TO BREATHE launches an XXX-hilarating new series of e-books, available exclusively from Jennyswallows.blogspot.com. Each volume contains at least FIVE full-length, red hot tales of lust, love and the most explosive oral sex imaginable. That’s around fifty pages of sucking, blowing and, of course, swallowing. Because good girls don’t spit.

ONLY $2.99

NOW AVAILABLE FOR KINDLE

Flowing from the ever-fertile pens of Jenny Swallows and Chrissie Bentley, each volume is published in the popular PDF format, to be enjoyed either on your computer or an ebook reader. Your purchase will be with you within 24 hours (and usually much, much sooner), e-mailed directly to your specified address, a discreet and easy way to enjoy the very best in erotic writing.

Don’t Forget To Breathe volume one contains the following stories:

The Cocksucking Chronicles (or, Don’t Forget To Breathe!)… an all girls’ book club changes the subject, from the last novel they read to the first cock they sucked. With some surprising confessions!

An Evening’s Tale… a tale of bawdiness from the reign of Good Queen Bess. History refers to her as the Virgin Queen. But history only talks about one of her holes. She had another that was always full!

Three Nuns and a Motorcycle… two young lovers, three passing sisters, and an act of penance that the Archbishop would certainly not approve of.

Three Guys Walk Into a Bar… and one walks out with the girl of his dreams. A weekend in the mountains has never sounded so delicious.

Revenge… there’s a certain type of frat boy who will never take no for an answer. But does he always get what he expected? Butch gets a blowjob he’ll remember forever.

Welcome To Spain… a few days in the sun with an old friend, a video camera and a favorite record to soundtrack all the action.

THIS AIN’T THE OFFICIAL PORN PARODY XXX ENCYCLOPEDIA (YES IT IS)

2011-12-01T13:14:00.000-08:00

THIS AIN’T THE OFFICIAL PORN PARODY XXX ENCYCLOPEDIA (YES IT IS)
by Dave Thompson and Chrissie Bentley

Coming in 2012

We are seeking adult movie fans to contribute to an exciting new book on the world of adult parody movies.

We are looking for short (250 word average) reviews of your favorite (or otherwise) XXX parody movies - visit amazon.com and check out their user-supplied reviews for the format. There will be no payment for these reviews, but all published contributors will receive a copy of the final book.

THIS AIN’T THE OFFICIAL PORN PARODY XXX ENCYCLOPEDIA (YES IT IS), by authors Chrissie Bentley and Dave Thompson, is the first authoritative guide to this new world of Triple X cinematic sensation, a fully illustrated encyclopedia that weeds the great from the grisly, then draws out no less than 50 parodies for the full behind-the- scenes treatment, including interviews with the cast and makers, and side-by-side comparisons with the original program/movie.

Both writers are well-known in the field, Thompson as the author of Black & White & Blue, a study of the erotic film industry in its vintage infancy; Bentley as one of America’s leading erotic short storytellers, whose work has appeared in such titles as Best Women’s Erotica 2011, X-Cite Books’ Cocktails series and many more.

The book will be irreverent, fun, entertaining and rude. But it will also be authoritative, educational and eye opening, with a widespread appeal to both the erotic and the mainstream movie fan. Its visual content, utilizing material from both the parody and the original movie/program will ensure a vibrant and exciting presentation, while chapters of interest beyond the individual movies will include the views and opinions of an estimated fifty adult and non-adult film stars and makers, past and present.

These will include genre-specific fields such as the history of the XXX parody; problems faced (and solved) in creating a spoof; crossing over to the mainstream viewer; and more general topics such as censorship and piracy.

please e-mail submissions, and other inquiries to: Chrissie Bentley, bentleybook@yahoo.com

Deadline March 31 2012

Heads up on Going Down

2011-11-20T13:54:00.001-08:00

It's not published for another six months, but I have a new story, "Do You Speak French?", appearing in Rachel Kramer Bussel's latest anthology, Going Down... so here's a head's up and a chance to place an advance order at Amazon.

Publication Date: May 15, 2012
When you look back on the best sex you ever had, oral sex will be a part of the picture. Rachel Kramer Bussell, editor of the award-winning oral sex collections Tasting Him and Tasting Her is back with more lip-smackingly superb oral sex erotica for ALL with Going Down. The primal sense of taking in the essence, taste, smell and sexy up-closeness of a lover is a powerful aphrodisiac that affects one physically, mentally and emotionally. Once you have your lover in your mouth, the heat of desire, passion, and lust focus before your eyes and tie your arousal directly to them. These fictive fellatio stories, sizzling sixty-ninings, and talented tonguings will give readers lots of new ideas to try at home. In , lovers both give, receive and explore the many ways oral sex can be an act of love, tenderness, devotion or pure sexual act that lets readers revel in the emotion and sensuality of it all. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy this sexy read of explicit stories to get you hot and bothered with more than a mouthful. Giving head never read so good until now!

Advance orders here

September Super Book Blow Out

2011-08-24T16:40:00.001-07:00

From now till September 30, all my Kindle e-book editions are available for $2.99

THE FIRST TIME AND 59 OTHER....
KINDLE EDITION buy here

THREE NUNS AND A MOTORCYCLE
KINDLE EDITION - buy here

BELOW BLUE LONDON
KINDLE EDITION - buy here

COUSIN TOM'S MOTORBIKE AND OTHER STORIES
KINDLE EDITION buy here

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION
KINDLE EDITION buy here

New Editions Now Available

2011-08-02T03:37:00.000-07:00

THREE NUNS AND A MOTORCYCLE
KINDLE EDITION NOW AVAILABLE - buy here
print edition still available - buy here

BELOW BLUE LONDON
PRINT EDITION NOW AVAILABLE buy here
e-book edition still available - buy here

COUSIN TOM'S MOTORBIKE AND OTHER STORIES
KINDLE EDITION NOW AVAILABLE buy here
print edition still available - Print edition - buy here

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION
KINDLE EDITION NOW AVAILABLE - buy here
print edition still available - buy here

SOHO BY SPOTLIGHT

2011-07-31T08:42:00.000-07:00

OUT NOW!

SOHO BY SPOTLIGHT by CHRISSIE BENTLEY

BUY IT HERE (Kindle)

BUY IT HERE (print)

FREE EXCERPTS AT Jenny Swallows and Dark Side Clubhouse

AMAZON REVIEW
Atmospheric, accurate and HOT!, August 8, 2011
By Mellon Collie "Dalek Lover" (New Haven, CT) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Soho By Spotlight (Paperback)
Books about the old time UK porn industry are rare, especially ones that go beyond the world inhabited by the stars of Simon Sheridan's masterful Keeping The British End Up and Come Play With Me. Soho By Spotlight fills that void. It is the tale of Elizabeth Clark, a waitress at a Soho cafe who finds herself drawn almost inadvertently into the universe of mucky movies - but NOT on the side of the camera you're expecting. For a little over a year in the late 1960s, she schemed the action and worked the camera on countless 10 minute stag films, and this is the story of that year.

The book is unput-down-able. Chapters are short but they hit home hard. Characters come hurtling into life, scenarios are documented with vivid detail, and more than any other book I've read, we get a genuine taste for the streets of Soho - the corruption that was a daily backdrop and the criminality that was a necessary part of her profession, of course, but also the friendships, loves and pride in a job well done that were equally vital ingredients.

XXX films demand a XXX story and no punches are pulled here as movie shoots are documented in fabulous detail... making the reader wish the book was illustrated, simply so we can see the faces and bodies that are described with such passion. But Soho By Spotlight is so much more than the usual adult read. It is also a historical document, preserving a world that is not only long gone but is almost unimaginable today. Hardcore erotica hasn't always been available at the click of a mouse, you know. Once, you could almost go to jail for even thinking about it.

In London in the 1960s, pornography was a man’s world.

Stag films and blue movies were viewed by men, written by men, directed by men and filmed by men. If they hadn’t needed actresses to play a part on camera, it would probably have been made by men as well.

And then a woman came along, and changed that world completely.

This is her story.

The mid-1960s were the golden age of truly underground erotic film making, the last grand flowering of the trade before the progressive liberalization of the arts, the advent of new forms of technology (beginning with the VHS tape), and the mercurial success of the movie Deep Throat transformed a once deeply secretive and self-involved industry into… indeed, a mainstream industry.

Soho By Spotlight returns us to those halcyon days; to a gray and overcast landscape of dirty raincoats and secretive doormen, of darkened club rooms and menacing mobsters; and a square mile of seedy businessmen for whom sex films were made for fun as much as finance – at least by the people on either side of the camera.

It is the semi-fictional, but wholly truthful autobiography of one of the era’s most prolific film-makers – a XXX novella that could double as a confessional text book, but which pulls no punches in either direction.

A gripping adventure littered with powerful sex; a fearless expose shot through with honesty and emotion, then draped by a sheen of fragile, furtive eroticism, Soho By Spotlight tells the story of Elizabeth Clark… the eye behind the lens of some of the best-loved British porn films of the era.

Rarely more than ten minutes in length, resolutely black and white, and determinedly dirty, movies like Little Girl Lost, Tonight At Eight and Satan's Children come to life in these pages. So does the world in which they were made, a world – once again - of dirty raincoats and secretive doormen, of darkened club rooms and menacing mobsters. And sex so hot that it melts the celluloid.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Soho By Spotlight is Chrissie Bentley’s eleventh novel, and her second work to investigate her personal love of erotic cinema – the first,”Pictures Of Lily,” can be found in the Cleis Books anthology Best Women’s Erotica 2011, edited by Violet Blue.

Bentley has been publishing erotica for close to a decade, initially via internet sites such as Ruthies Club and eroticstories.com. Her short stories have appeared in the print anthologies The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica (Robinson Books), Boy Fun, Ultimate Uniforms (both Xcite), Misbehaviour (Black Lace) and more; and in a number of e-book collections too.

She was also creator, compiler and co-editor of the Xcite anthology The Bad Girl’s Sweet Kiss (2010)

One Night Only

2011-07-18T18:29:00.000-07:00

Coming in January (which isn't as far away as it sounds), a new anthology from Cleis Press, edited by Violet Blue, and featuring a new story from Chrissie Bentley!!!!!!

LET SLEEPING DOGS COME
by Chrissie Bentley

“What’s the most common lie that a guy tells his girlfriend?” Sharon’s eyes were glittering with delight.

Mary shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“’I promise I won’t come in your mouth.’ And what’s the most common lie a girl tells him?”

“I don’t know.”

“’Good.’”

TO BE CONTINUED!!!!!!!!

Get a sneak peek here

ULTIMATE UNIFORMS

2011-04-09T05:10:00.001-07:00

ULTIMATE UNIFORMS

includes LOVE ON THE BATTLEFIELD by Chrissie Bentley

Review
Winner of Jade Erotic Awards: Erotic Fiction Publisher 2010 "Xcite has delighted its readers with a wealth of superb titles and first class storytelling. Its titles have far outstripped the others for both quality of the product and sensual erotic content."

Product Description
If a commanding man or imperious woman dressed in a smart uniform makes your heart tick faster, these 20 original stories exploring the sensual delights of uniforms, both for the wearer and the admirer, are guaranteed to seize your attention. Whether it is the smartness and authority of military dress, the sassy temptations of a naughty maid, or the possibilities offered by a policewoman, arousing descriptions and unabashed accounts of kinky sexual encounters await!

Product Details
Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Accent Press Ltd (January 17, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1907761322
ISBN-13: 978-1907761324

EXCERPT

He spoke again. “I was just wondering; how much blood am I actually meant to be losing here?”

I looked down. The bottle was half empty. “Oh, just a couple of pints for now, but it’ll keep coming. You’ll probably be dead by the end of the day.” I paused as my eyes travelled down his body. “Although, I’m wondering if your wound is the only thing that’s draining it?”

I saw his eyes follow mine, and his face turned as scarlet as the blood. Straining against the fabric of his red-stained longjohns, a fat, one-eyed helmet peeking over the edge of the cotton waistband, he was nursing the biggest hard-on I’d seen in years – and certainly the biggest that I’d never even noticed.

He spluttered an apology, but I put my fingers to his lips. “Don’t try to speak. You’re dangerously weak and any unnecessary exertion could easily finish you off.” I lay the palm of my hand an inch or so over the bulge, could feel the heat radiating out of it. “Massive blood loss. Dangerously overheated. I have to try and find a way of staunching the flow.”

Gently, I pulled his underpants away, and his cock leaped to attention, as fat as that first glimpse had promised, and – as my friend Lisa sometimes liked to say, “long enough to tickle your tonsils.” I looked around – the tent was still empty, and the only voices in earshot sounded some way away. “Everyone’s off with the fighting. This tent’s more for show,” I mused. “All the other casualties will be down there, with Dr Ronstadt.”

“Lucky for me,” he smiled, and I grinned back. “Lucky for me, as well.” I stroked his cock, and squeezed as it twitched in response. “Civil War medicine is usually so boring.”

My hand was tight around him, squeezing and easing the pressure of my grip, but never doing more than that. The thought of somebody wandering past and seeing us was alive in my mind, but that was only a part of it. I just wanted to savor the moment… squeeze and release… squeeze and release… squeeze and release.

He reached a hand up to touch my breasts, but I stepped to one side, just out of reach. “Maybe when you’re feeling better.” Squeeze.

“I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

Release. “So you say.” Squeeze. “But I say there’s still room for improvement.” Release. My hand relaxed and, where once I had gripped him firmly in my fist, now the lightest of fingers cradled him. “Definitely room for improvement.”

Squeeze… and the faintest bubble of moisture appeared from the slit at the tip. Release; and I pressed my thumb against the droplet, smeared it roughly over his helmet. I glanced over and saw his eyes fixed on mine, their expectant glitter begging me to lean forward, to take him in my mouth. I wanted to as well, but I resisted the temptation. For now. Rather, I watched him watching me, then heard him moan slightly as my hand jerked up suddenly, milking the pre-cum from deep within.

Then, with the end of his cock now glistening with moisture, I leaned forward, to blow gently onto the crest. He gasped, and I looked across at him. He really did have beautiful eyes.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. “Do you have everything you need?”

“I need to be inside you. I want to feel myself inside you… inside your mouth.”

EroticStories-dot-com

2011-04-08T05:13:00.000-07:00

There's a lot of free story sites up on the internet... I know, because I've written for many of them. But the one to which I keep returning is the first one that I ever submitted to; webmaster Art's long-established EroticStories.com.

If you've not visited - you should. It's a subscription site, meaning you do have to pay for membership - either in cold hard cash or with a story (contributing authors are offered free membership), and it's a sign of the success of the operation that, after more than ten years, ES is still going strong. Close to 6,500 different authors have posted one or more stories, and the number of different stories must run close to 100,000 by now. Which is a lot of porn for your pennies. Or prose.

I've been contributing there since 2004; an ex-boyfriend introduced me to the site, but I only started writing when he and I broke up. And why? To exact my revenge on him – "you think I’m heartbroken? Think again." Since that time, I've made sure there's always a dozen or so of my stories on the site, switching them around as I feel like it, and trying to ensure there's always something fresh to read.

It's not all stories, either. The site also offers live chat, pictures, video, an advice column and even interviews with favorite authors - a feature that I've been overseeing since March 2010. But it is the stories that keep people coming back, all of them searchable by author, title and theme; and there's even a voting system that allows readers to find the top-rated tales simply by seeing what everyone else thought of them. There's a "top-rated authors" chart (I'm currently #7), several "top stories" lists... and some of the friendliest readers you could hope for, all ready to vote and comment on your stories.

So, anybody who is thinking of setting out in the murky world of online erotic publishing... or if you're simply looking for some late night reading pleasure... get over to EroticStories.com. And to start you off... here's the link to my own author page.

INTERVIEW (Naughty Editions, January 2011)

2011-04-05T10:58:00.000-07:00

Chrissie Bentley is the author of eight erotic novels and a myriad short stories, published both in print and online. The editor of Xcite Books’ recent Bad Girl’s Sweet Kiss anthology of oral sex stories, she also appears in the recently published Best Women’s Erotica 2011.

Naughty Editions, 14 January 2011

* Who would you want to be tied to for 24 hours? … Drew Barrymore

* What is your favorite way to relax after a hard day working and writing?…actually, writing is relaxing, so that’s what I do.

* What is the one era you would love to go visit and why?… the late Victorian era; any excuse to wear a corset and bustle

* Have you ever faked sick? … who me? Never!

* Do you believe in love at first sight? … completely and constantly

* What is your perfect pizza? … Ham and pineapple.

* Do you have a celebrity crush? … Aside from Drew Barrymore? Jessica Harper

* If you could change your name, what would you change it to? … something that everybody searches for on Google…

* Out of all your books, do you have a favorite one? Below Blue London… erotica, time travel and the supernatural, set in my favorite city in the world

* What character out of all your books is the closest to your personality?... All my stories are first person and at least partially autobiographical, so I’d have to say – me

* If you could make a movie of any one of your books which one would you choose and who would you cast at the h/h? ...Miss America, which draws on some of my nastiest fantasies and features some of the most repulsive characters I’ve ever created. Anne Hathaway would play me; Kyra Knightley has a role… and so do Johnny Depp, David Tennant and, oddly, Mel Gibson. His character is nicknamed Pencil Dick.

* Who is your favorite author?...Historically, Charles Dickens and Christopher Isherwood. Currently, Connie Willis and Jacqueline Carey.

* What is the weirdest thing a reviewer has ever said about one of your books?...Not sure it’s weird, but one review obviously mixed up the characters in my book with those from another, and more or less created a whole new story…

* What is the nicest thing a reviewer has ever said about one of your books?...I was once called the Oracle of Oral Sex… and the Bard of the Blowjob. I was very happy with those!

* Do you have a bucket list? If so, what are 2 things on it?... Kittens and vintage erotica

* What is your favorite color besides YELLOW? I know everyone love yellow....Red. And black.

* Boxers or briefs? ...Briefs.

* Red Pill or Blue Pill? ...Oh, always the blue one.

BEST WOMEN'S EROTICA 2011

2011-04-05T09:07:00.001-07:00

BEST WOMEN'S EROTICA 2011 - EDITED BY VIOLET BLUE
KINDLE EDITION

includes PICTURES OF LILLY by Chrissie Bentley
Product Details
Paperback: 256 pages
Publisher: Cleis Press (December 1, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1573444235
ISBN-13: 978-1573444231

Product Description
Best Women’s Erotica 2011 delivers risky, romantic, and heart-pounding thrills. Joyful, daring, and authentic, these steamy stories revel in erotic adventure, from the sparks between strangers to the knowing caresses of long-time lovers. These stories are not merely erotic, but filled with strong characters and clever narratives showing a wide variety of sexual expression. Violet Blue's newest anthology is a glorious celebration of the finest and friskiest female erotic fiction today.

From the Author
This 2011 edition of Best Women's Erotica is stylish, coy, slick with gloss, and stiletto-sharp. Stories sent to me when I post a "call for submissions" arrive in the hundreds from all over the world, but in my ten years of editing erotica, the stories always tell me what's going on out there in women's heads about sex.

This year every single story is layered top to toe with explicit sex, hard and wet and mean and sweet, flowing around love, and fused with characters who finally feel like us. What women want: with no apologies.

A girl squeezed into a tight uniform has her first day on the job serving ice cream to workmen -- with no small amount of irony (or arousal) about her presentation. A group of girls dare to see what it's like in the male-only arena of a triple-X movie theater.
A businesswoman orders spa service to her hotel room as a splurge, only to be confronted by two male masseuses who then compete to see who can give her the most physical pleasure to win the payment. A woman turns the humiliation of an ex-boyfriend exposing a naked picture of her to the world into her own private game.

There is so much more. I'm so proud to work with this outrageously talented authors. Enjoy their adventures of their sexual heroines.

EXCERPT
Anyway, I’m sitting there, literally flooding myself, when someone sat down just two seats away from me. I didn’t pay any attention at first, but every so often, a movement would flutter in the corner of my eye. It wasn’t fast, and it certainly wasn’t furtive; at first I thought he was simply munching popcorn. But then Wendy, sitting on my other side, nudged me. “Are you watching this guy?”

I looked. He had his cock out… and that was unusual; most of the guys we’d seen playing with themselves had their hands wedged down the front of their trousers, or maybe covered their laps with a coat. But not this one. Bold as you like, it was out in the open, quivering hard and pointing bolt upright, and he was stroking it, a long, slow sweep with one hand and then, as he reached the tip, and his fingers hung there, the other hand would start at the bottom. And between each sweep, his free hand would go up to his face, and he’d sniff his own fingers and palm.

I glanced at the screen. The movie was into one of its plot interludes. I turned back to the guy. His eyes were glued to the screen, but his hands were still working their magic, slow and patient.

Wendy nudged me again. “How old do you reckon he is?”

“I dunno. Mid-20s, maybe?”

“He’s cute.”

“He’s alright.”

“Watch this.” Wendy rose, placed her purse on her seat and squeezed past our friends on her other side. She walked a smart circuit around the theater, and then headed back to her seat from the other end of the row… the end where the guy was sitting. She’d have to get past him to regain her own seat.

All three of us were watching her now. Laughing, we’d often wondering what would happen if we crept up on one of the guys sitting around us, and placed one hand where his was. Just to see what it felt like. I never thought Wendy would be the one who actually did it, though. Looks like Lily Lamarr was working her magic on her as well.

She’d reached him. By the light of the movie, I could see her mouth “excuse me,” and the guy’s look of absolute shock as he registered her standing there. He made to stand up to let her pass, while frantically trying to tuck his cock out of sight, but as Wendy passed him, her own hand gripped it.

Have you ever startled a kitten when it’s doing something it shouldn’t be? That’s what his face looked like, frozen, wide-eyed, bewildered… and those eyes grew wider still, as Wendy settled down into the empty seat between him and me, still clutching that twitching erection. Then she leaned forward a little.

With her nose just millimeters away from his cock, she took deep breath, then clasped one of his wrists with her free hand, sniffed at that too, and slowly licked her tongue up his palm.

The guy had shifted his feet a little; he was standing in front of her now (I hope nobody behind them was trying to watch the screen!) and I could see everything around Wendy’s fingers: the thick vein that ran up the side of the shaft, the thick mushroom head, the forest of dark hair at the base.

There was a kind of bend in his dick. Although the guy was facing Wendy, the eyelet in his helmet was pointing straight at me. I took a breath, hoping I could catch his scent, but my own was so powerful that I’d need to get a lot closer before that happened. Close enough to smell him, close enough to taste…

REVIEWS
Like a Date With a “Nice” Guy
Plot Summary: This erotic collection written by women, for women, contains 19 stories ranging from sexy to kinky and everything in between.

My primary thought after finishing Best Women’s Erotica 2011 is that it’s filled with fetishes. I can guarantee that there’s at least one story in here for everyone, but with that grand-sounding promise comes my regret that several of the stories did not please me. To put it another way, I love to visit Baskin Robbins for ice cream, but that doesn’t mean I want to have a bite of every flavor in the house. I wanted chocolate and strawberries, and what I got was a lot of weird, fruity flavors that were interesting but not the sort of thing I’d want to consume beyond that initial taste.

Even though some of these stories did not turn me on, they were all beautifully written, without exception. I have yet to read a collection by editor Violet Blue (Just Watch Me) that fails to impress me in terms of the storytelling and the sex, but this one didn’t have much romance. I don’t expect to find all that many sweetheart stories in such a wide-ranging collection, but I was disappointed by the utter lack of softness (with one exception – I adored “Abigail’s Ice Cream” by Janine Ashbless). The overriding theme of this collection is defiance, and it was embodied in story after story about women who were brave, and aggressive, and bold in their sexual encounters. They asked, no demanded, to have sex their way, and while it was kind of exciting to read, it was also a bit overwhelming for me.

In “Pictures of Lilly” by Chrissie Bentley, four teenage girls sneak into an X-rated theater and one of them blows a surprised patron to finally experience the taste, smells, sensations first hand. In “Rainbow Night” by Giselle Renarde, a stogy old dinner party becomes vastly more interesting when an idle discussion about “rainbow parties” leads the wives to lipstick up and go down on the guys. ”Fresh Canvas” by Donna George Storey portrays the kind of wild, group encounter that is both erotic and alien, and what can happen when a “normal” woman finds fulfillment this way. In the most startling example of a woman taking control is “Skinheads” by Jacqueline Applebee. The characters essentially swap race and gender roles with shocking results.

In every single story the woman is exactly where she wants to be. This collection is all about the woman being in control of her fantasies and her realities. To say that some of the fantasies are unconventional is putting it lightly, and while the variety is impressive, I would have been pleased with a little more focus and a bit less mélange.
DIRTY SEXY BOOKS

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Best Women’s Erotica 2011 is another titillating collection from editor Violet Blue, featuring nineteen sensual stories that leave the reader feeling very satisfied. Each story is unique and pushes boundaries, no doubt causing some readers to have their comfort zone challenged, but they’ll still find a new favorite story to curl up in bed with.

“But this was no hesitant nymph, no wistful modernist muse. She was a Titan duchess, patron of the arts, a woman who could commission her own portrait that glowed with radiance beyond any commonplace beauty or understanding.”

What’s interesting about this year’s collection is that the writers bring a sense of pride in accepting different forms of sexuality. These stories are more vocal in challenging the media views of sexuality, and those who choose what gets them hot. For instance, Velvet Moore’s “Picture Me Naked” shows our leading lady learning how a simple act of publicly finding a naked picture of herself in a bag of items her ex-boyfriend returns to her can reshape they way she participates in public eroticism. “Two For One,” by Alyssa Turner, has our heroine finally finding relief from constant traveling with two well-attuned masseurs.

Many of these stories will quickly have readers stealing these fantasies for their own mental collection; whereas other tales may take a while to grow on you. However, this collection shows that erotica is still bursting with originality, and has limitless creativity.

Reviewed by Robyn Oxborrow
sanfranciscobookreview

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INTERVIEW (November 2010)

2011-04-05T09:04:00.000-07:00

’m a sucker for online interviews… even when they come bouncing back to me, “address unknown.” Here’s one that I filled in just recently, that was indeed returned to me by the ever vigilant Mailer Daemon….

* How did you start writing erotica?

An ex-boyfriend introduced me to the website www.eroticstories.com… I started writing when he and I broke up, primarily to exact my revenge on him – you think I’m heartbroken? Think again.

* What’s your favourite published work of yours and why?

Below Blue London - partly because it allowed me to combine my passions for erotica, history and the supernatural, but also because it required a lot of background research… a skill I developed in my dayjob, but which I’d never needed to utilize in my fiction

* What erotic authors do you enjoy reading?

I read everything that I can lay my hands on… but my favorites tend to be the anonymous creators of Victorian-era erotica. The language and imagery is so very different to anything we read today, and so much more exciting, simply because of its unfamiliarity. But one modern exception, Lady Alice McCloud’s Thrift Moncrieff stories.

Where do you draw your inspiration from?

Anything and everything… my novel Miss America was a total reaction to a bad relationship; the Cousin Tom stories came from listening to a lot of Woody Guthrie and reading classic Americana; What I Did On MY Summer Vacation is self-explanatory. Anything I see, read or do can set me off.

Who is your favourite character from one of your stories and why?

Ambrose Horne… a Victorian era detective, a rival of Sherlock Holmes, who specializes in mysteries with a sexual angle… if the Royal Family want to know who changed the speed settings on the Prince of Wales’ vibrator, they call Ambrose.

Do your nearest and dearest know what you do, and if so, what was their reaction when they found out?

Some do… and they support it; some pretend they don’t, and it never gets mentioned.

What was your ideal career when you were a child?

I’m doing it – writing and publishing

If you get writer’s block when you’re writing, how do you get around it?

I don’t even try to. I write when I want to, so if a few months pass and nothing comes… I have plenty other things to amuse myself with. I’m a Second Life junkie, I read constantly and I horde DVDs for rainy days. I keep myself busy.

If you could bring one of your characters to life, which one would it be and why?

Naughty Miranda, prime-time teenaged TV queen… not only has she brought most of my most persistent fantasies to life, she also consistently succeeds in situations where I fail abjectly.

Which author, erotic or otherwise would you love to meet and why?

Christopher Isherwood – his Berlin Trilogy (source of the movie Cabaret) was what got me interested in erotica to begin with; there were just so many undercurrents swirling in there, I think I spent the entire time I was reading it in a state of total turmoil and, when I finished, I went out to find more books that would make me feel the same way. And yes, I was young at the time.

What’s your favourite genre within erotica and why?

Oral… I guess because it’s my favorite activity anyway, but also because the scenes are simply so much fun to write.

What are you working on at the moment?

A semi-fictional, semi-biographical book about the porn movie trade in 1960s London. I collect films from that era (DVD and downloads) and was fortunate enough a couple of years ago to “meet” (online) somebody who was involved in the business at the time. We started collaborating on the book a while back and it’s been slow due to pressures of work etc, but I’m hoping it will be completed and published sometime in 2011.

What’s your biggest writing achievement? Why?

Getting a story (Pictures of Lily) accepted into “Best Women’s Erotica 2011″. I’ve been reading that series more or less since it started, and I still cannot believe that I am now a part of it

THE BAD GIRL'S SWEET KISS

2011-04-05T09:01:00.001-07:00

THE BAD GIRL'S SWEET KISS - EDITED BY CHRISSIE BENTLEY & MIRANDA FORBES

Product Details
Format: Kindle Edition
File Size: 389 KB
Publisher: Xcite Books; 1.0 edition (October 26, 2010)

Product Description
A blow-by-blow anthology of first-time fellatio and other oral delights. Chrissie Bentley is a woman on a mission - to raise the profile of oral sex. In 'The Bad Girl's Sweet Kiss' she has brought together her own experiences as well as those of many other erotic writers from all over the world. From some of the most well-known voices in erotica to more recent newcomers to the field, everybody's first time is different. In this diverse collection of blow-by-blow accounts exploring an oft-overlooked act of intimacy, you'll find something to shock, titillate, amuse as well as trigger memories of your own oral initiation.

EXCERPT
Sometimes, I think oral sex gets a really bad rap.

Everybody remembers the day (or night) they lost their virginity, that momentous First Time of which poets dream and romantics swoon. Great swathes of the English (and every other) language have been hijacked in the hope of recapturing that moment, oh blessed morn when a cautious flower blossomed to the ministrations of ... oh, get over it. So you popped your cherry – whaddyawant, a band-aid?

Oral sex, on the other hand ... nobody writes poems about that first time (well, some people do and we have two of them here, but you know what I mean); nobody sits up with a thesaurus seeking new and nuanced aphorisms to describe that delight. In fact, sometimes it feels like our mother tongue has gone out of her way to make the whole thing sound base.

Suck him off.

Lick her out.

Blowjob. Really, think about that for a moment. We’ve probably all left work after a bitch of a day to announce to the world that this job blows. And then we’re expected to turn the words around and have fun with it? Yeah, lick me, sucker.

There is even a school of thought that insists oral doesn’t actually count as sex, and before you track that back either to Bill Clinton’s evasions (‘I did not have sex with that woman’), or the slimy squirmings of sundry right-wing fundamentalists who want to get their rocks off and remain chaste for their wedding night ... don’t. I have at least one friend who insists that she didn’t have sex until her early 20s, because she doesn’t count the blowjobs she’d been liberally distributing for the five years leading up to that. And she was active in the ’70s.

But really, who’s she – or anybody else, for that matter – trying to kid? His cock’s in your mouth, his tongue’s in your pussy, and it doesn’t matter how many condoms and dental dams you’re wearing between you. If that isn’t sex, then I pity your marriage vows.

The men and women who tell their stories in this collection have not fallen for any of this. They know what oral sex is, they know what it means and they know why it matters. They understand the intimacy that it conveys, they relish the ecstasy that it conjures and they all believe, as I believe, that for however many moments that your partner is in, or on, or at your mouth, then there is nothing more that you could say or do that could put this moment in the shade. At least until it happens again.

Of course, for something that feels so right, there’s an awful lot that can go wrong. There are few calm and considered seductions in these pages, no crisp white sheets on four-poster beds, perfume filling the air with a heady aroma. This is sex at its most primal, the urgent need to suck or be sucked, to lick or be licked, and it doesn’t matter whether you’re in the front of a car in a fast-food parking lot, with your Pizza World apron draped over your head; or making out in the darkness of the alley behind a bar, when it’s time for it to happen, it happens.

A few people plan for it, because how can you not? This is a book about the first time our writers experienced oral sex, and there’s another book that could be written, about the first time they thought about it, the first time they realised that sex does not begin and end in the downstairs department, and that there’s a lot you can do on the top floor as well. More than any other sexual act, oral is the one that we can all rehearse in our minds, and I’m not even going to ask you if you did. Girls will know the answer from the number of damp bananas in the kitchen; boys will know from the hours they spent exercising their tongues. And then the real thing comes along and everything you practised for goes flying out of the window, because even the greatest imagination can only begin to guess at the possibilities unfurled.

Because that’s the other thing about oral. There’s nothing mechanical about it (or, at least, there shouldn’t be – because if there is, you’re doing it wrong). Fucking tends to involve just that, it’s exactly what it sounds like. But sucking is licking and blowing and biting and gnawing and nuzzling and nibbling too, and licking is lapping and probing and ... you get the picture. Another reason why the common vernacular lets the side down, and you understand for a moment (before you laugh at its silliness) while the late Dr Alex Comfort, author of the bestselling Joy Of Sex handbooks, dispensed with both the crude terms for oral sex, and the tongue-twisting “proper” names, and referred to the whole thing as Mouth Music. Because even the most basic chord can be played in an infinite variety of ways, and the end result ... oh dear, now I’m doing it as well.

So, a collection of stories about first-time fellatio and consummated cunnilingus, and there’s another subtle variation, because there’s a lot of different writers here, and a lot of different interpretations too.

The first time with the opposite sex, the first time with the same sex.

The first time it was wonderful, and the first time it went wrong.

The first time he came and she didn’t even flinch, the first time she squirted and he squealed and ran a mile. Browsing some of the many blogs out there that could be termed the oracles of oral sex, most women posters are adamant that it’s only polite for the man to discretely inquire ‘Do you mind if I come in your mouth?’ And I wonder, given the growing (again, net-inspired) awareness that women, too, are capable of profuse ejaculations, whether any girl has ever asked her man that same question?

Which is as good a place as any to leave these opening ruminations, because there’s a lot of writers waiting here, and they’ve got some wonderful tales to tell you.

And yes. You can come inside.

THE ILLUSTRATED CHRISSIE

2011-04-05T08:51:00.000-07:00

PICTURES OF LILLY

THERE'S A CURE FOR ALMOST EVERYTHING

REVENGE

A DIFFERENT KIND OF TENSION

A CHRISTMAS GAME

GAME SET AND MATCH

THE WRONG REUNION

LOVE SUZY

THE COCKSUCKING CHRONICLES

BUMPY ROADS ARE BEST

The above illustrations were commissioned by the much-missed Ruthie's Club website to illustrate the online publication of assorted short stories of mine...

BOY FUN ONE

2011-04-05T08:40:00.001-07:00

BOY FUN ONE

includes HOW MANY TIMES IS THE FIRST TIME by Chrissie Bentley

Top erotica authors are collected here to explore a whole range of scenarios and situations in which guys get up to no good with each other.

EXCERPT
“You don't know how many times I've dreamed of this,” I whispered, holding him close to me. “You don't know how many times I've dreamed of a lot of things,” he smiled, his breath and then his tongue warm on one of my nipples. I stroked his hair as he closed his lips around it, then let out a small groan as he shifted slightly, and began tracing down my stomach.

He moved slowly, almost distractedly. Light kisses, soft bites, gentle nuzzles. I felt his tongue flick inside my belly button, then move sideways and linger gently on my side. His body, too, was in barely perceptible motion, shifting his weight, maneuvering around. Turning my head, I could see his prick swaying, a sheen of pre-cum catching the light from the bedside lamp. I wondered what it would taste like, but resisted the temptation. I wanted to see what he was planning, first.

Marty’s mouth was lower now, kissing my stomach, just inches away from my granite-aching cock. He showed no sign of being interested in that, though; one moment he was close enough that a simple twitch would have touched his tongue, the next he was softly biting the top of my leg. Then, as his hand gently cupped my balls, he stopped and looked up at me with an expression of unfathomable innocence. “You're probably going to think I'm an absolute idiot, but - what do I do now?”

“Nothing... you're doing fine,” I whispered, but he didn't move. “No, I mean...” his hand slipped onto my shaft. “I've never...” Again his voice trailed away, and I suddenly understood. “Whatever you want... whatever you think will feel good - for both of us.” I racked my brain for the right words. How do you explain to someone how to suck your cock? “You put it in your mouth and....” No. I tried to play it cool. “Kiss me again like you were doing, but this time don't cover so much ground”

“Like this?” His lips grazed my the base of my shaft, lingered for a moment, then retreated. “Yeah, but a little harder, and a little longer.”

“Like this?” Again I felt his lips there, exactly as I said; a little harder and a little longer. “That's it. Now keep doing that for a moment. See what I taste like, use your tongue a little.” Obediently - that's the only word for it - he began sliding his mouth gently around, occasionally touching the top of my sac, but always stopping just short of the head of my cock.

I was rock hard by now, but his hand kept my cock pressed firmly to my belly, as his tongue began to roam more freely. “Let it go, touch the tip,” I breathed, half-conscious of just how absurd those words sounded, but scarcely caring as his lips finally closed over the end. “That's wonderful,” I sighed. “Don't stop.”

“You're not going to...”

“Cum? No, not yet. I'll let you know.” Much as I would have loved to, I didn't think Marty would appreciate a mouthful of spunk this early in his apprenticeship. But, no sooner had that thought crossed my mind than I almost lost it altogether, as his lips sunk over the tip, over the head, and half my cock disappeared inside his mouth. He held me there for a moment, withdrew and then sunk down again. From the back of his throat, I heard him moan, then gasped with amazement as he licked me again, his tongue sweeping across the top of my cock, then pausing to twirl a little, as though it was trying to burrow inside the hole, and winkle out more of the pre-cum that was now begin to flow so freely. “You like that?” His voice was dancing. “I'm glad. Because I can't believe how delicious you are!”

His head dipped as he took half... more than half of me into his mouth, and then his movements grew more frenzied, fuck-sucking my cock as hard as he could, pausing for a breath, tossing a loose strand of hair from his face, and then taking me deeper every time. Again his cock was right in front of me, so close I could almost taste it, and so wet with his own clear juices that I could have drunk from it. It was too late to stop myself; I reached out and grasped his ass, dragged him over my face and pulled his hardness into my mouth, sucking hard even as I forced my throat to relax around him

My nose grazed his ball bag, and he gave a little groan. But nothing was going to distract his from his new-found pleasure, nothing at all. He slipped off my face with a whispered “you'll get your turn in a moment. But I want to see what you really taste like.”

REVIEW
This collection of twenty short stories of male-male fun sucked me in with Sand and Steel, the very first story by Shanna Germain, and yes, pun intended.

I’m glad Sand and Steel was the opening story. The writing was absolutely amazing and vivid. Plus being a SEAL has its own allure in any erotic story. This story was so well told that I found myself comparing the other stories to it to see if they could measure up.

It’s a Sin by Alex Jordain was definitely one of those stories that measured up. The tale of the Roman Catholic boy who can’t get enough self-pleasure while lusting after the blond altar boy or “altar server.” I wondered if the author used altar server over altar boy as a way to distract you from the fact you’re reading about teenagers. Either way, it was successfully written and quite relatable in the first-teenage-crush kind of way.

Then there’s The Fist by G. R. Richards, he’s called The Fist because he’s a fighter but I’m sure you can guess where this story ends up just by the name of the title. Not my favorite story but nicely done. It gave me the feeling that it was written for men-- who enjoy good warehouse sex amidst the noise of a trash compactor--instead of women.

There are twenty stories in this collection which makes it difficult to talk about them all. But to sum it up, Boy Fun has enough male-male variety to keep you entertained for hours.
FROM THREE'S A CROWD

LOVE ON THE BATTLEFIELD AND OTHER STORIES

2011-04-05T08:36:00.000-07:00

LOVE ON THE BATTLEFIELD AND OTHER STORIES
KINDLE EDITION

includes LOVE ON THE BATTLEFIELD by Chrissie Bentley

Product Description
A collection of five erotic stories from Xcite Books with uniform, bdsm and multicultural themes.

Love on the Battlefield by Chrissie Bentley
Every year, the whole town comes together to celebrate the Civil War re-enactment, even if it’s a little scarce on the historical details! Up until now, she’s managed to wriggle out of the annual celebration, but this year’s she’s been conscripted to nurse the wounded Yankee soldiers. When teenage crush Gavin Black arrives on a stretcher, she has to get him out of his Civil War soldier costume in order to administer her special treatment. History is starting to look up...

Heat It Up by Shashauna P Thomas
Most people were put off buying the apartment because of its close proximity to the fire station, but for her, it was the perfect opportunity to indulge her ultimate fantasy. Firemen do it for her every time, but no other at the station gets her fired up more than strong, silent type Mark – in or out of his kit. When he offers to give her a private tour of the station, who is she to refuse? Things are about to get hot!.

State Champs by Garland
LaRhondra is always falling for the wrong guy, and Zak’s no different. He’s a member of their greatest rival band at the state championships and any inter-school “bonding” would make her a traitor in her band-mates’ eyes. Will LaRhondra be able to handle her crush, or will creating her own sweet music with the drummer in their band attire prove impossible to resist?.

Blue Pommes in Killybegs by Thom Gautier
Thom has come to Ireland ostensibly for a second-cousin’s wedding, but in truth to escape a difficult relationship back home in the States. When he meets bridesmaid Geraldine, he finds a kindred spirit, who gives back as much as she takes. When she claims that she can still fit perfectly into her teen uniform, the challenge is laid; the only question is, is Thom man enough to keep up with this feisty Irish lass?.

Uniform by Rachel Charman
Sometimes there’s nothing sexier than a bit of role reversal, and that’s exactly what she’s got planned for her beau. Donning the modern army uniform, this self-confessed tomboy is more than ready to “wear the trousers” in the bedroom tonight; the only question is, will her boyfriend be willing to take his off?

THE ILLUSTRATED CHRISSIE

2011-04-05T08:32:00.000-07:00

RIDING THE GHOST TRAIN

LET SLEEPING DOGS COME

STOP THE WORLD, I'M COMING

SPLASH

LEARNING TO LIVE WITH IT

IN YOUR DREAMS

BACK TO NATURE

LET'S GO TO THE MOVIES

A HAND TO HOLD ONTO

The above illustrations were commissioned by the much-missed Ruthie's Club website to illustrate the online publication of assorted short stories of mine...

SAND AND STEEL

2011-04-05T08:31:00.000-07:00

SAND AND STEEL
KINDLE EDITION

includes HOW MANY TIMES IS THE FIRST TIME? by Chrissie Bentley

Product Description
A collection of five stories with gay themes. Stories include:
Sand And Steel by Shanna Germain: He is my prisoner. He is a SEAL. I know that no amount of pain that will make him crack and tell me what I need to know. But he has not been trained to withstand pleasure. Yet, even though he is blindfold, there is something familiar about him. When he asks me to remove his blindfold I decide it will be in my best interests. Too late, I realise I’ve made a mistake that will cost one of us our life....

Beauty And The Beast by Penelope Friday: Len and Sebastian are an unlikely couple: the carpenter and the aristocrat. It’s a relationship that’s going nowhere. Yet, in the bedroom they are equals. In the bedroom they belong to each other in total oneness. And then one night everything changes...

How Many Times Is The First Time? by Chrissie Bentley: No one at work knows for sure if Marty is gay. But he’s such a nice guy it doesn’t matter. I have to admit I’ve had more than a few passing fantasies about him, though. And then one day fate intervenes and I realise my fantasies are about to come true. And what’s more, Marty is a man full of surprises....

It’s A Sin by Alex Jordain: I’ve been brought up to be a devout Roman Catholic, but Jerry, with his blond hair, pretty face and lithe athletic body is just too much of a temptation. When he invites me to his house I can’t resist. And being initiated into the delights of boy fun turns out to be the most satisfying as well as the most sinful time of my life...

Snow Wolf by John Connor: Russia, winter, 1905 – it’s a time full of chaos and uncertainty. I have chosen to live a hermit trapper’s existence, it’s more peaceful that way. But when I find an injured soldier, half dead beneath the snow of a frozen forest, I cannot leave him to die. I take him back to my cabin to recover and as his frozen body slowly revives, I discover that we have a great deal more in common than it would first appear...

These stories have also been published by Accent Press in 2010 in ‘Boy Fun’.

INTERVIEW (Vintage Erotica, Jan 2010)

2011-04-05T08:27:00.000-07:00

CHRISSIE BENTLEY HAS BEEN FEATURED IN THESE PAGES SEVERAL TIMES BEFORE, BUT THE NEWS THAT VINTAGE EROTICA’S FAVORITE AUTHOR IS ABOUT TO TURN HER TALENT TO SCREENWRITING CERTAINLY MAKES HER WORTHY OF ANOTHER MENTION.

The Philadelphia writer is currently in talks about bringing her 2009 XXX tour de force Miss America to the screen, in a deal that will not only see her script the story, but should also place her in line to bring some of her other visions to life.

“It’s still very early, so I can’t say too much,” Bentley admits.“But it is exciting.”

For anybody who hasn’t yet read it (and if that includes you, why not?),Miss America is one of the most dramatic erotic reads of the past few years, the story of an American woman who is kidnapped from her Spanish hotel room, to find herself trapped inside an establishment that, as Bentley puts it, falls halfway between a medieval torture chamber and a health farm for sex addicts. Twisting and turning through myriad convolutions, the labyrinthine story is a natural for the movies, not only in terms of dialogue and plotting, but also in its potential for sex scenes.

“I honestly never considered it as a movie while I was writing,” Bentley admits. “The sex scenes were basically things that I found interesting, at the same time as knowing that I wouldn’t be interested in actually trying most of them myself.” Laughing, she refuses to outline which scenes they may be, but faced with scenarios that range from an outsized dildo to a bukkake scene involving a gang of amputees and dwarves, oodles of oral, anal and orgies, and onto a few moments that border on rape and worse, a better question might be, how many actresses out there would want to go through it all?

“A few names have already been discussed,” Bentley says. “The key, however, is making sure that it’s not just the one actress who has to go through each of the scenes. We’re looking for a very varied cast, and that should open things up considerably.”

Bentley originally wrote Miss America in early 2007, and admits that finding a publisher was difficult. “Several websites that I was already writing for turned it down outright, simply because it was so violent.I finally found one that would take it; we ran it in I think twelve installments, one every few days, and it was interesting reading the reactions from readers as they got to the end of each part.

“The first responses were overwhelmingly negative, I don’t think I’ve ever been called the names, or accused of the things, that I was then. But people kept reading, and after three or four chapters, the mood of the comments began to shift and, by the end, people were loving it – not because of the sex, but because there is an underlying storyline that runs at a completely different angle; what happens to the story’s heroine physically is not at all the same as what is happening to her emotionally, and as she begins to understand that, and work with it, the readers ‘got it’ as well.”

Those first hate-filled diatribes did serve a purpose, however. “They showed me areas where the storyline was a little weak, so I was able to tighten it up. They also pointed out, although I don’t think they intended to, places where the sex could actually become even more extreme. For instance, the bukkake scene was quite tame compared with what I changed it to.”

In this form, Miss America made it onto the much-loved, and sadly-missed Ruthies Club website a couple of years ago, accompanied by some dramatic illustrations provided by the site’s stable of artists. There it became a serious cult hit and, following the site’s closure last year, Bentley had no difficulty in placing the story, as a full-length e-book, with Erotic Excursions. “It still hasn’t reached the market that I want it to,” she admits, “which would be a paperback that you could just pick up at the airport… I’m still not convinced that e-books are what the majority of readers are looking for, especially in the erotic field. Among my own books, paper is still outselling digital by a considerable margin.”

Format wars notwithstanding, Bentley currently has five books available – Miss America is joined by Naughty Miranda, What I Did On My Summer Vacation, the supernatural thrillerBelow Blue London and the excellently titled Three Nuns and a Motorcycle, which she describes as “a cross between an anthology and a greatest hits album, I took the stories of mine that have had the best reaction on various on-line sites, mixed in some excerpts from the other books, and then added one new story.”

Available as a paperback, she calls it her “surprise best seller,” adding that it was one of the stories in Three Nuns, a tale of dark and dangerous frat boy misdoings called “Revenge,” that first placed her in the moviemakers’ line of sight. “Somebody at the studio read ‘Revenge’ after I posted it on my website, and got in touch to ask whether I had anything else like that. So I pointed him towards Miss America, not expecting to hear anything else, and got an e-mail back a week or two later demanding I let them film it.

Now in her late thirties, and a veteran of both the conventional and erotic publishing industry, Bentley knows that the first steps towards a finished movie are fraught with far more pitfalls than not… “so many people I know, writers who I’ve dealt with at work, or who I’ve met elsewhere, have been through this process, and very few of them have ever come out the other side with a DVD in their pocket. But Miss America is very dear to my heart, and it seems to strike a chord with everybody else who reads it as well, so I’m hopeful that something may come out of this. And if it doesn’t… well, I’ve got enough other projects to keep me busy; I’ll survive.”

These include completing a new anthology, based around the sexual misadventures of a pair of small-town Colorado college kids, Cousin Tom and Cousin Rosie… “although they’re not actually cousins,” Bentley confides; and another full-length novel, set in New York in the late 1960s, with the fires of both sexual and political revolution lighting up the campus dormitories. “Right now it’s called Love In A Time of Riot, although that’s just so I know what file to open when I start work every morning,” Bentley laughs. “I’ll let you know what it winds up being called, once I’ve finished it.”

We’ll be waiting!

COUSIN TOM'S MOTORBIKE AND OTHER STORIES

2011-04-05T08:26:00.000-07:00

COUSIN TOM'S MOTORBIKE AND OTHER STORIES by Chrissie Bentley
Publication date: May 17 2010
ISBN/EAN13:1452864985 / 9781452864983
Page Count:90

Print edition - buy here
Kindle edition - buy here
Seven hot new erotic adventures with the Rocky Mountains' raunchiest couple. Follow Cousin Rose and Cousin Tom as they hump and bump their way through Monroe CO - includes the stories "Cousin Tom's First Motorbike," "Cousin Tom's Revenge," "Cousin Tom Slips Behind," "Cousin Tom & The Sisters of Mercy," and more!

EXTRACT from COUSIN TOM'S FIRST BLOWJOB
Cousin Tom’s always been a kidder, daring me to do things that even Tomboys would think twice about. But then he hit me with a challenge that really left me reeling. At least until I’d had a moment to think about it.

“Bet you wouldn’t dare climb Dead Man’s Drop.”

“Bet I would.”

“Bet you wouldn’t dare jump off that wall.”

“Bet I would.”

“Bet you wouldn’t dare run into that orchard and grab us an apple each.”

“Bet I would.”

For as long as I can remember, Cousin Tom… I’ve always called him that, even though “jerk” is shorter… has spent his days dreaming up new things to dare me to do. And, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always done it. Throw a stone through a window, bark back at the vicious old dog that lived down the street, put a thumb tack on Professor Burke’s chair. He only needs to challenge me, “I bet you wouldn’t dare…”, and I’m already working out how to do it.

It’s not just one-way traffic, either. I give as good as I get, and Cousin Tom is on it like a shot. And, again, we’ve been like that our whole lives.

Well, there really isn’t much else to do round these parts, which is why – given the choice between heading down to the town library to study, or across to the playing fields to watch Cousin Tom play soccer, I decided to do both, cheering his team to a three-zip win, while wishing the cute center-forward on the opposition side would take a tumble on the touchline, so I could get a closer look at him. There isn’t much in the way of boys round here either, which is another reason I spend most of my time hanging with Cousin Tom. In the world of the blind, the one-eyed man is King.

“Hey Rosie, thanks for coming.” Still decked out in his soccer uniform, but his hair wet from the showers in the changing room, Cousin Tom was first out after the game, and nobly agreeing to join me at the library. “I won’t be too long in there,” I told him. “In and out of the local history room, promise.”

“No sweat. There’s nothing else to do today. Unless you wanna go get a drink first?”

Disadvantages of living in a small town. Fake IDs don’t work. Everyone knows who everyone else is, and you can forge the greatest driver’s license in the world, but the bar tender still knows what it ought to say. Cousin Tom, though, had never let details like that slow him down. “Okay. What you got in mind?”

“I happen to know,” he begun teasingly, “that a couple of the guys stashed some kegs round behind the old Matheson property. And I thought we should go and help them finish them.”

“Great.” It was only a few minutes detour off our path, and a mid-morning spent yelling from the touchline certainly was thirsty work. Plus, I could tell by the silences that kept enveloping Cousin Tom that he definitely had something on his mind, and I was willing to bet there’d be a bet in there someplace.

I was right. although the bets weren’t simply tame by his usual standards, they were lame as well. “Bet you can’t drink this in one,” he challenged as he handed me a chipped mug full of cheap beer, and I just snorted derisively. I’ve drunk Cousin Tom under the table more times than I can remember, and this afternoon would be no exception. But still I couldn’t help but suspect that he had something more on his mind - the bet to end all bets, the mother of all challenges. And here it comes.

We were back out on Main Street, turning the corner towards the library, drunk enough to be having fun trying to knock each other over with a hip check, when he came out with.

“Bet you wouldn’t dare suck my cock.”

THE ILLUSTRATED CHRISSIE - COUSIN TOM

2011-04-05T08:03:00.000-07:00

The following illustrations were commissioned by the much-missed Ruthie's Club website to accompany the first (internet) publication of the Cousin Tom stories.

THE ILLUSTRATED CHRISSIE - AMBROSE HORNE

2011-04-04T13:44:00.000-07:00

The following illustrations were commissioned by the much-missed RUTHIES CLUB to accompany the first (internet) publication of thre Amrbose Horne stories

THE EROTIC RETURN OF AMBROSE HORNE

2011-04-04T13:43:00.001-07:00

THE EROTIC RETURN OF AMBROSE HORNE (NOVEL) by Chrissie Bentley
ITUNES EDITION
KINDLE EDITION

Armed with only his relentless curiosity for the darkest recesses of human sexuality, Ambrose Horne is the enterprising eroticist for whom no puzzle is too perplexing, no secret is too scandalous, and no position is too impolite. Now, gathered together for your reading pleasure, 'The Memoirs Of Ambrose Horne' reveals the Carnal Casebook of the Idiosyncratic Inquisitor, the one-and-only Ambrose Horne

EXCERPT (from LADY H____ LENDS A HAND)
Far more fascinating, Lady H_____ discovered, was his account of his marriage to the daughter of a local Squire, a fiery, passionate woman who filled his every need bar one. They had made love just once in five years, and that was only because convention and the law demanded that they consummate their union.

Since that time, Millicent had made it plain that sex had no part to play in their life together, either for pleasure or procreation, and her husband had meekly acceded to her wishes; so meekly that, after a time, he hadn’t simply stopped missing sex, he didn’t even think about it any longer. In fact, he admitted, his penis had already been absent several weeks before he even thought of contacting Ambrose Horne, so little attention did it demand.

Lady H_____ was tempted to ask him what all the fuss was about, then? If he didn’t use it and didn’t need it, then surely he could scarcely be missing it; rather, she mused, he should regard its absence as though it were a once-troublesome appendix. Such levity, however, scarcely seemed appropriate, even though Goffman’s temper markedly lightened as the evening wore on; until, by the time they retired to their separate beds, Lady H_____ was actually enjoying his company. Now, however, it was time to discover to what extent he might enjoy hers.

By the light filtering in through the undrawn curtains of his room (she really needed to speak to the footman about that), she could see Goffman asleep on his side. Slipping off her dressing gown, she slid naked beneath the blankets alongside him and, moving stealthily so as not to disturb him, angled her arm towards the man’s loins.

A set of Lord H_____’s pyjamas had been laid out for Goffman; he had chosen, for whatever reason, to sleep in the jacket alone. (Perhaps because he has nothing to hide, the mischievous thought leaped unbidden to mind.) Extending the palm of her hand, she encountered the coarse scrape of his pubic hair. But nothing else. It felt so strange to place one’s hand in such an intimate spot, and encounter nothing more than if she were inspecting his back, but that was the case. Just as her eyes had told her the previous afternoon, the man’s body remained featureless from stomach to scrotum.

She withdrew her arm. In her mind, as she schemed this moment through the evening, she imagined that somehow, the missing member would miraculously return, perhaps while he slept, perhaps through the proximity of another human body. She was wrong and, temporarily bemused, lay on her back, thinking back to her conversation with Bessie this afternoon. ‘Awaken him in the night, keep the lights out ....’ She wondered if the woman had taken her advice, if – perhaps at this very moment – Randolph was discovering the delights of the tenderest kiss of them all. Whereas she, Lady H_____ ... oh, the whole affair really was so confounding.

She moved back onto her side, and allowed her fingertips once again to graze in the wiry fuzz between Goffman’s legs. Did he feel no sensations there whatsoever? No stirrings at all? He was sleeping deeply; her fingers drifted down a little, to stroke at the flesh where his flesh should have been. Even in a sleeper, such actions were guaranteed to provoke some kind of physical stirring, but she aroused nothing. Her hand cupped his balls. They, too, hung loose and relaxed, as though nothing on earth could interrupt their libido-less slumber.

Goffman shifted in his sleep. For a moment, Lady H_____ thought he was going to roll over onto his stomach, and put an end to all her explorations. Instead, he moved in the other direction, onto his back.

She thought again of Bessie. ‘Take him gently between your lips.’ The night was warm, the bedclothes were few. Inching slowly down the bed, turning herself around as she did so, Lady H_____ positioned herself carefully and comfortably. Then raising Goffman’s scrotum gently in one hand, she slipped a single egg into her mouth.

REVIEW
Local author, Chrissie Bentley, goes back in time across three books of short stories featuring everyone’s favorite erotic detective, Ambrose Horne!

The Erotic Adventures of Ambrose Horne
The Erotic Memoirs of Ambrose Horne
The Erotic Return of Ambrose Horne

With Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes movie going gangbusters on the DVD circuit, there could be no better time to step back in time with another of Victorian England’s greatest detectives – although you will quickly discover that Ambrose Horne had a penchant for somewhat earthier pursuits than Holmes.

The brilliant creation of Philadelphia author Chrissie Bentley, Ambrose Horne is the sleuth that society calls upon to unravel the mysteries that delicacy and discretion dare not discuss with anybody else. Three volumes of his adventures – each containing five full-length stories – include such seemingly unfathomable puzzles as a mysteriously damaged stamp collection (“The Coagulated Conundrum”), a lost book of the Bible (“the Rediscovered Heresy”), a plague of ginger-haired children (“The Midnight Succubus”), and more. But behind those simple descriptions, and the deductive process that solves them, there lurk secrets and situations at which Holmes would have blanched before he even picked up his deerstalker.

Each of the stories is genuinely gripping, littered with both arcane historical observations and fascinating period trivia, and all pose genuine mysteries for the reader to attempt to solve alongside Horne. Where Bentley steps away from the detecting norm is in the sheer eroticism of her storytelling – anybody familiar with her other writings will already be aware of the full XXX impact that she brings to every tale, and Ambrose marches proudly to the same delirious drum.

From the genuinely idiosyncratic manner in which he contemplates the matter at hand, to the distinctly unconventional means by which he concludes every case, Horne’s adventures are exhilarating excursions into a world that is as far removed from the typical view of Victorian England as it is possible to journey. At the same time, however, it is very easy to believe that both Horne and his memoirs really are genuine survivors of an age in which the merest glimpse of a lady’s bare ankle was sufficient to morally bankrupt a passing gentleman, suppressed for so long that society itself had forgotten him. Now he is back and, needless to say, he discusses a lot more than mere ankles.

These three fantastic books are all available at : Xcite Books

Amy Hanson, Wilmington Examiner

THE EROTIC MEMOIRS OF AMBROSE HORNE

2011-04-04T13:35:00.000-07:00

THE EROTIC MEMOIRS OF AMBROSE HORNE (NOVEL) by Chrissie Bentley

I-TUNES EDITION
KINDLE EDITION

Armed with only his relentless curiosity for the darkest recesses of human sexuality, Ambrose Horne is the enterprising eroticist for whom no puzzle is too perplexing, no secret is too scandalous, and no position is too impolite. Now, gathered together for your reading pleasure, The Erotic Memoirs Of Ambrose Horne reveals the Carnal Casebook of the Idiosyncratic Inquisitor, the Horny Holmes... the man who put the Dick into Private Investigator... the one-and-only Ambrose Horne.

EXCERPT (from THE STRANGE CASE OF THE MAGICAL MUSHROOM)
There was never any sign of a break-in or, for that matter, a break-out. Lady Batsford’s own love of the culinary arts, and her insistence on cooking many of her own meals, ruled out poison. And, when Horne jokingly suggested that the culprit might be a magpie, or some similarly acquisitive bird, he was astonished to discover that Lady Batsford herself had already conducted her own search for some form of feathered felon.

Going over Lady Batsford’s story in his room after dinner that evening, Horne confessed himself perplexed. Doodling at the bureau, his pen hurriedly sketching out the spurting penises, myriad breasts and bountiful buttocks that were his subconscious mind’s favoured means of relaxation, he knew that the answer lay within his grasp. But there was one piece of the puzzle missing, and the solution to this entire mystery lay in him finding it, wherever it lay.

Crossing the room, Horne rang the bell that connected to the servant’s quarters. Katie had been assigned to his needs for the duration of his stay, and she hurried to answer it.

‘I was wondering,’ he asked as she entered the room. ‘Does your mistress entertain visitors ... shall we say ‘outside’ of her normal social circle?’

Katie giggled. ‘Like a fancy man, or something?’

‘If you want to put it that way, yes.’

‘Well…’ the girl lowered her voice. ‘I shouldn’t really say anything; in fact, we’re not even supposed to know. But the Squire spends an awful lot of time here of an evening, at least three or four visits a week. And we are never to disturb them while they are together.’

‘Where do they hold these assignations?’

‘In the morning room. He arrives around seven and leaves around ten. My mistress says they are discussing private estate business.’

‘But the servants think there’s something else going on?’ Horne ventured.

‘Well, wouldn’t you?’ Katie laughed. ‘He’s married, you know, but the mistress is still a royal beauty, and if you saw the Squire’s wife!’ Her voice trailed away. ‘But please don’t say anything to anyone. If they found out I’d said anything to you, there’d be hell to pay.’

‘I won’t say a word,’ Horne assured her. ‘But tell me, do the thefts coincide with the Squire’s visits?’

‘I really couldn’t say. He’s here so often, and the thefts are so random. Maybe they do ...’

‘Hmmm. And, finally, is he here now?’

She nodded and Horne dismissed her. It was time, he decided for a little snooping. Yet, when he returned to his room later that evening, he had to confess himself no wiser than he had been. Yes, the servants’ suspicions were confirmed; in the 40 minutes that Horne spent crouched in an outside flower bed, squinting through the one set of curtains that had not been drawn tightly, he had been gratified only to discover that his own first impressions of Lady Batsford, a 25-year-old girl trapped in the body of a 50-year-old woman, had not been mistaken.

REVIEW
Local author, Chrissie Bentley, goes back in time across three books of short stories featuring everyone’s favorite erotic detective, Ambrose Horne!

The Erotic Adventures of Ambrose Horne
The Erotic Memoirs of Ambrose Horne
The Erotic Return of Ambrose Horne

With Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes movie going gangbusters on the DVD circuit, there could be no better time to step back in time with another of Victorian England’s greatest detectives – although you will quickly discover that Ambrose Horne had a penchant for somewhat earthier pursuits than Holmes.

The brilliant creation of Philadelphia author Chrissie Bentley, Ambrose Horne is the sleuth that society calls upon to unravel the mysteries that delicacy and discretion dare not discuss with anybody else. Three volumes of his adventures – each containing five full-length stories – include such seemingly unfathomable puzzles as a mysteriously damaged stamp collection (“The Coagulated Conundrum”), a lost book of the Bible (“the Rediscovered Heresy”), a plague of ginger-haired children (“The Midnight Succubus”), and more. But behind those simple descriptions, and the deductive process that solves them, there lurk secrets and situations at which Holmes would have blanched before he even picked up his deerstalker.

Each of the stories is genuinely gripping, littered with both arcane historical observations and fascinating period trivia, and all pose genuine mysteries for the reader to attempt to solve alongside Horne. Where Bentley steps away from the detecting norm is in the sheer eroticism of her storytelling – anybody familiar with her other writings will already be aware of the full XXX impact that she brings to every tale, and Ambrose marches proudly to the same delirious drum.

From the genuinely idiosyncratic manner in which he contemplates the matter at hand, to the distinctly unconventional means by which he concludes every case, Horne’s adventures are exhilarating excursions into a world that is as far removed from the typical view of Victorian England as it is possible to journey. At the same time, however, it is very easy to believe that both Horne and his memoirs really are genuine survivors of an age in which the merest glimpse of a lady’s bare ankle was sufficient to morally bankrupt a passing gentleman, suppressed for so long that society itself had forgotten him. Now he is back and, needless to say, he discusses a lot more than mere ankles.

These three fantastic books are all available at : Xcite Books

Amy Hanson, Wilmington Examiner

THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF AMBROSE HORNE

2011-04-04T13:26:00.000-07:00

THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF AMBROSE HORNE (NOVEL) by Chrissie Bentley

ITUNES EDITION
KINDLE EDITION

Armed with only his relentless curiosity for the darkest recesses of human sexuality, Ambrose Horne is the enterprising eroticist for whom no puzzle is too perplexing, no secret is too scandalous, and no position is too impolite. Now, gathered together for your reading pleasure, 'The Erotic Adventures Of Ambrose Horne' reveals the Carnal Casebook of the Idiosyncratic Inquisitor, the Horny Holmes ... the man who put the Dick into Private Investigator ... the one-and-only Ambrose Horne.

EXCERPT (from THE STRANGE CASE OF THE CONFUSING CORPORAL)
‘Head shrinkers. Whatever will they think of next?’

Horne had little time for the newly emergent art of psychiatry ... like most learned men of the late 19th century, he believed that there was nothing wrong with a fellow’s mind that a little hard work, a few years in the military and, if all that failed, a padded cell at Bedlam Hospital, could not cure. And how was he so sure? Because his own life’s work was intimately bound up in examining the minds, and deducing the motives, of his fellow man – a life’s work at which, if he said so himself, he excelled.

Twenty-three times he had been called in to solve riddles that the best minds in the land had been unable to crack; and twenty-three times, he had succeeded. The nameplate on his door in London’s fashionable Belgravia read, simply, ‘Ambrose Horne – Detective.’ But his reputation in the corridors of British Law screamed ‘Genius.’

Major Carpenter reminded him of that fact when they met at dinner that evening. ‘You know the British Army really doesn’t like to bring in outsiders,’ he said in-between mouthfuls of piping oxtail soup. ‘But, quite frankly, Horne, we’re at a complete loss. We know our secrets are getting into the wrong hands, and we know the leak is here in this town. But neither our own top brains nor Scotland Yard’s have been able to track it down.’

‘Does anybody else at all know of this investigation?’ Horne asked.

‘Not a soul. In fact, you only got clearance because somebody remembered that you signed the Official Secrets Act back in ‘86.’
Horne nodded. August 1886. Somebody had walked into a Naval laboratory and, apparently, sailed out again in a top-secret prototype submarine. It took the authorities six weeks to admit they didn’t know how it was done, but it took Horne just two days to produce both the thief and the submarine, while a certain Foreign Power gnashed its teeth and wondered where its ill-gotten prize had so mysteriously gone.

‘But surely I’m not the only private detective who’s had that honour?’ Horne asked, genuinely surprised at the Major’s revelation.

‘No, but you are the best ... and you know how to keep your mouth shut. Unlike certain others in your trade.’

Horne nodded. ‘You mean Holmes.’ Sherlock Holmes, the bright light that beamed from Baker Street, was at the peak of his personal renown at that time, and Horne was constantly aware that, in terms of general public recognition, the absurdly-outfitted sleuth was streets ahead of him. And that, Horne contentedly knew, was his downfall – as Major Carpenter was swift to confirm.

‘Of course I mean Holmes. The pompous ass. Yes, yes, he’s brilliant, everybody admits that. But having that preposterous little assistant of his, Watson or whatever his name is, write the cases up for the popular press is nothing short of shameless self-aggrandizement. Mark my words, he’ll never work for this country’s government again ... and I don’t care what Watson writes to the contrary.

‘But you, Horne, you have admirers that even you are not aware of. From the lowest parlour maid ...’ and here, to Horne’s wry amusement, he gestured at Mary, as she hovered at the foot of the table, preparing for the arrival of the main course ‘... to the highest seats in the land. And there is nothing that they would not do for you.’ This time, Horne’s eyes met the girl’s, and he saw her tongue flick lasciviously across her lips. He cleared his throat, and turned his attention back to the Major. ‘And why is that?

Because we know that what you are told will never be heard again.’

Horne lowered his eyes. ‘Well, Major, that might be for the best. Some of my methods are, shall we say, a little unconventional for present day tastes.’

REVIEW
This might be controversial, but for me, the best erotic fiction isn’t all about the sex. With no pun intended, it really should be about the full package. And that’s what Chrissie Bentley delivers in this collection of short stories which sway from the poignant to the ludicrously funny. And that package includes – rest assured – lots of hot Victorian action!

Set in the era already SO dominated by that other fictional detective, Ambrose Horne does a very good job at establishing himself as the sleuth who takes a refreshingly different approach to uncovering the truth – more often than not a horizontal one.

When I started reading this book, I worried that after the first few stories, the plots would grow a bit samey or contrived (as they did in that TV programme Rosemary and Thyme – after all, just how many murders can a couple of landscape gardeners unearth?!) but thankfully this is not the case here. In fact, not only has the author managed to create a charismatic hero (who has a Bond-esque way with the ladies) and some entertaining and testing plotlines, but she’s impressively highlighted a social truth: that almost everything in this life comes down to sex, greed or both.

I can’t wait to read the next two instalments of Ambrose Horne.
RUDE WORDS

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Local author, Chrissie Bentley, goes back in time across three books of short stories featuring everyone’s favorite erotic detective, Ambrose Horne!

The Erotic Adventures of Ambrose Horne
The Erotic Memoirs of Ambrose Horne
The Erotic Return of Ambrose Horne

With Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes movie going gangbusters on the DVD circuit, there could be no better time to step back in time with another of Victorian England’s greatest detectives – although you will quickly discover that Ambrose Horne had a penchant for somewhat earthier pursuits than Holmes.

The brilliant creation of Philadelphia author Chrissie Bentley, Ambrose Horne is the sleuth that society calls upon to unravel the mysteries that delicacy and discretion dare not discuss with anybody else. Three volumes of his adventures – each containing five full-length stories – include such seemingly unfathomable puzzles as a mysteriously damaged stamp collection (“The Coagulated Conundrum”), a lost book of the Bible (“the Rediscovered Heresy”), a plague of ginger-haired children (“The Midnight Succubus”), and more. But behind those simple descriptions, and the deductive process that solves them, there lurk secrets and situations at which Holmes would have blanched before he even picked up his deerstalker.

Each of the stories is genuinely gripping, littered with both arcane historical observations and fascinating period trivia, and all pose genuine mysteries for the reader to attempt to solve alongside Horne. Where Bentley steps away from the detecting norm is in the sheer eroticism of her storytelling – anybody familiar with her other writings will already be aware of the full XXX impact that she brings to every tale, and Ambrose marches proudly to the same delirious drum.

From the genuinely idiosyncratic manner in which he contemplates the matter at hand, to the distinctly unconventional means by which he concludes every case, Horne’s adventures are exhilarating excursions into a world that is as far removed from the typical view of Victorian England as it is possible to journey. At the same time, however, it is very easy to believe that both Horne and his memoirs really are genuine survivors of an age in which the merest glimpse of a lady’s bare ankle was sufficient to morally bankrupt a passing gentleman, suppressed for so long that society itself had forgotten him. Now he is back and, needless to say, he discusses a lot more than mere ankles.

These three fantastic books are all available at : Xcite Books

Amy Hanson, Wilmington Examiner

THE ILLUSTRATED CHRISSIE - BELOW BLUE LONDON

2011-04-04T13:24:00.000-07:00

The above illustrations were commissioned by the much-missed Ruthie's Club website to illustrate the online publication of Below Blue London

BELOW BLUE LONDON

2011-04-04T13:23:00.001-07:00

BELOW BLUE LONDON (NOVEL) by Chrissie Bentley

An explosive cavalcade of ageless eroticism and timeless sensuality

Print edition - buy here
e-book edition - buy here

BELOW BLUE LONDON
Chrissie Bentley
Rated: 3 Quills: The Feasting Hall
Length: Scroll
Price: 4.99
ISBN: 1-60180-102-5

Michelle Carter, a young professional in her first ever London apartment, discovers that she and her roommate, Janet, are not alone.

The past, too, inhabits the rooms, a sensual, tactile past that reaches back over 200 years, to draw the two women into the succession of sexual encounters that must be relived before they can be understood.

Set exclusively on London's Isle of Dogs, a tiny patch of land that has seen countless changes over the centuries, Below Blue London is a seamless combination of explicit erotic detail and expert historical documentation.

Sweeping from Yuppie brokers to Victorian dockers, from the desperation of poverty to the complacency of wealth, from the horror of the London Blitz to the luxury of the Royal Court, Below Blue London is an historical epic like no other

EXCERPT
Wednesday night, though, the whole flat felt weird. I noticed it the moment I walked in. I'd had to go into the office that morning, and ended up stuck there all day. It didn't matter too much, because Janet was at the library again, and she'd not been home for long herself, when I stumbled through the door.

She was in her room. “It's okay, I'm using Bluetac, and I promise to clean it off when I leave.” One wall was festooned with diagrams. “I found a bunch of old Ordnance Survey maps. I photocopied them onto that clear plastic stuff, all in different color inks, and now I'm trying to line them up. Trouble is, they've changed the shape of the streets a few times and with so many other landmarks having either been demolished or altered, it's a total bitch. Every time you think you've got it, you notice something's a little bit out of whack, so you fix that and something else goes askew.”

“What else do you have up here?”

“I found some photographs in the library collection. It's amazing the stuff they have hidden away in that place. So I copied them, had them blown up. Look at this one, you can actually see the peoples' faces. I'd love to know who they were.”

“You could try the local genealogical society. I'm sure there is one. People are really into that family tree stuff these days.”

“Yeah, I will. Anyway, that's that, and over here, these are just a load of newspaper stories that I need to sort out. I've only skimmed them so far, but there looks to be some rather juicy....”

“Cunny.”

We both jumped.

“I want to feel you in my cunny.”

“Those are the same voices I heard before,” Janet whispered, and her hand reached for mine. “I thought I could feel something when I got home, but I was so anxious to get started, I put it down to nerves.”

“I felt it as well,” I confessed. “But same thing. We got talking and--”

“But lick me first. Make me wet, make me overflow.”

Janet's grip tightened. We sat on the bed as the entire room shuddered to the sound of a gasping sigh.

There were no more words, but there was no need for them. The hitching moans of a woman surrendering herself to the most voluptuous cunnilingus filled the air, the scent...the taste...of pussy flooded my senses and when I stole a glance at Janet, she was there as well, licking and being licked, encouraging and experiencing her own barreling orgasm. And then another sensation, of reaching out and being reached for, a hot, strong stiffness that was both a part of me, and apart from me, in my hand and being handled; in my mouth and being mouthed. Taking control and surrendering, silken wet and forged steel firm, salty and sweet.

“Look at the wall!” Janet's voice was barely a whisper, but I heard her and turned.

Locked in a convulsive 69, they were silhouettes, but they weren't silhouettes. You could make out every feature, every muscle, every curve of their bodies, but there was no sense of dimension, no depth or perspective. It was like watching an old, washed out and over-exposed silent movie being projected onto the side of a fish tank. A face, a woman's face, turned and stared towards us.

INTERVIEW (Rude Words.com, April 2010)

2011-04-04T13:20:00.000-07:00

An interview from the ever-wonderful Rude Words website.

Q. What was your childhood ambition?

To be a writer… I just hadn’t decided what I wanted to write.

Q. How did you end up being an erotic writer?

Initially (seven years ago) to relax, and to take my mind off a failed relationship… revenge therapy. But then I discovered how much I enjoyed the writing process, and began publishing stories online.

Q. What are the most important components that go into making good erotic fiction?

It has to be believable, and it has to be passionate. For me, motives, observations and thought processes are just as important as the actions themselves.

Q. If you could have any celebrity pictured carrying one of your books who would you choose and why?

Robert Downey Jr. He played a great Sherlock Holmes in the Guy Ritchie movie, but he’d be a far better Ambrose Horne.

Q. How do people who don’t know you react when you tell them you’re an erotic author?

Women tend to laugh and ask if they’ve read anything I’ve written; men shuffle their feet and mumble something indistinct.

Q. How do you like to relax when you’re not at work?

I love reading as much as I enjoy writing; I also collect pre-1970s porn films, the old-time “stag” reels. And I’ve just got into creating perfect playlists on my new i-pod.

Q. What makes you laugh?

I’m afraid my sense of humor is rather juvenile and slapstick-oriented.

Q. What makes you cross?

Politics, current affairs, the new Doctor Who and people who leap to immediate conclusions about things they know nothing about. Or does that come under “politics” as well?

Q. What’s the best thing that has happened to you in the last 12 months?

Discovering that there really IS a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Q. What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever been given?

Go home, put your feet up and listen to a Shangrilas CD. You’ll feel a whole lot better if you do.

THREE NUNS AND A MOTORCYCLE

2011-04-04T13:19:00.000-07:00

THREE NUNS AND A MOTORCYCLE by Chrissie Bentley
A lipsmacking collection of short stories and book excerpts, including highlights from all of my novels and novellas, plus previously unpublished adventures for Ambrose Horne and Cousin Tom, and much more.

KINDLE EDITION NOW AVAILABLE - buy here
PRINT EDITION STILL AVAILABLE - buy here

INCLUDES….
The Cock-sucking Chronicles
A Christmas Gift
Cousin Tom’s Motorbike
How Many Times is the First Time?
Ambrose Horne & the Strange Case of the Midnight Succubus
An Evening’s Tale
Three Nuns and a Motorcyle
Three Guys walk Into a Bar
A Fast Learner (by Jenny Swallows)
Revenge
Welcome To Spain

EXCERPT (from REVENGE)
I walked over to the pool table, and I was looking fucking hot. Tits tucked high, shorts cut higher... you know what they used to say about English girls' clothing, when the first American servicemen got there during World War Two? "One Yank and it's off." My ensemble barely needed a gentle tug, and I'll tell you what the best part is? I wasn't
wearing anything underneath. I was 20, I was tight in all the right places, and I didn't need the panty lines to add contours to my ass. Yeah, Bill may think he's God's gift to women, but I know I was the Goddess' gift to men that night, and I was waving my bounty in his face.

I picked up a cue, stroked my fingers down the shaft. "So, Billy boy, fancy having your ass whupped tonight?"

"Yeah, right." I could feel his little ferrety eyes boring into my cleavage, and I braced my back just a little, to give him a better view.

"Come on. One frame, and I'll tell you what. Winner takes all." I raised one leg, put my foot on the edge of the table. "And I mean all," I smiled, and felt all five pairs of eyes staring into my crotch.

"Go on, Bill, you can take her," one of his cronies smirked. "And then you can take her again. Come on, she's offering it to you on a plate."

Bill was stupid, but he wasn't dumb. "Yeah, but I don't trust her. She's up to something."

"You reckon? Or maybe you're just chicken." I picked up a ball from the table, balanced it on my palm, then traced a fingertip lightly across it.

"Chicken? Around you? Fuck off, Witch Bitch. I just don't trust you, that's all."

"Yeah, you might turn him into a frog or something." That was Butch.

"I might turn you back into a human being if you don't watch yourself," I snapped back, and there was a laugh from the others, despite themselves. "So Bill, are you game? I'll even let you break."

Bill still looked doubtful, but things had gone too far for him to back out. His pride depended upon it. "Okay. But you heard her, guys. Winner takes all. And I warn you, Witch Bitch, I don't go lightly on anyone."

"I wouldn't expect you to, champ," I cooed. "But I'll warn you. Neither do I."

I'll say one thing for Bill. He's not a bad pool player. Unfortunately for him, neither am I. Three years hanging with completely the wrong sort of guy (or so my folks used to complain, when I came home with hickies all over my neck) teaches you a lot of tricks, and playing pool is one of them. So bang-bang-bang and the game was over before Bill
was even warmed up.

I stood silently, still stroking my cue; Bill just glowered, while his disciples watched him uncertainly. The guy's an asshole, and he has an asshole's temper. But tonight he simply shrugged. "Luck. The balls lined up for you. You probably put a hex on them or something." It's funny, he ripped seven shades of shit out of me for being a witch, but
he certainly didn't have any problem believing it.

"Maybe I did," I smiled. "But tell you what. We'll play again, and this time, no tricks, no hexes. You up for it?"

Again he looked uncertain; again it was the nudging and nods of his crowd that made him back down. "Okay. But someone, get me a drink first." "Get me one, too," I snapped. "Pernod and ice, not too much ice."

"She even drinks like a fucking witch," I heard Butch growl. "What the fuck's Pernod?" My God, where do these people come from?

This game went much the same as the last, except this time, Bill barely got started. You know what it's like when every shot you take is the right one, and you've got the ball ricocheting off the cushions, knocking everything down that it's meant to? Even I was surprised how easy it was, and the look on Bill's face was just priceless.

"Okay, so winner takes all, right?" I leaned the cue against the table, walked around to where Bill was standing. It was funny, but his crowd all stepped away as I approached, lining up against the wall like they were scared I was going to eat them or something. Which, had they only known, was sort of what I had in mind. But first, I was going to have my fun.

"Okay, all of you, into the Ladies."

"Fuck you."

"Not if you don't go into the Ladies, you won't!"

DON'T FORGET TO BREATHE

2011-04-04T13:15:00.000-07:00

DON'T FORGET TO BREATHE by Chrissie Bentley and Jenny Swallows
DON’T FORGET TO BREATHE launches an XXX-hilarating new series of e-books, available exclusively from Jennyswallows.blogspot.com. Each volume contains at least FIVE full-length, red hot tales of lust, love and the most explosive oral sex imaginable. That’s around fifty pages of sucking, blowing and, of course, swallowing. Because good girls don’t spit.

ONLY $2.99

Flowing from the ever-fertile pens of Jenny Swallows and Chrissie Bentley, each volume is published in the popular PDF format, to be enjoyed either on your computer or an ebook reader. Your purchase will be with you within 24 hours (and usually much, much sooner), e-mailed directly to your specified address, a discreet and easy way to enjoy the very best in erotic writing.

Don’t Forget To Breathe volume one contains the following stories:

The Cocksucking Chronicles (or, Don’t Forget To Breathe!)… an all girls’ book club changes the subject, from the last novel they read to the first cock they sucked. With some surprising confessions!

An Evening’s Tale… a tale of bawdiness from the reign of Good Queen Bess. History refers to her as the Virgin Queen. But history only talks about one of her holes. She had another that was always full!

Three Nuns and a Motorcycle… two young lovers, three passing sisters, and an act of penance that the Archbishop would certainly not approve of.

Three Guys Walk Into a Bar… and one walks out with the girl of his dreams. A weekend in the mountains has never sounded so delicious.

Revenge… there’s a certain type of frat boy who will never take no for an answer. But does he always get what he expected? Butch gets a blowjob he’ll remember forever.

Welcome To Spain… a few days in the sun with an old friend, a video camera and a favorite record to soundtrack all the action.

THE ILLUSTRATED CHRISSIE - MISS AMERICA

2011-04-04T13:10:00.000-07:00

The above illustrations were commissioned by the much-missed Ruthie's Club website to accompany the first (internet) publication of Miss America

INTERVIEW (AEToday)

2011-04-04T13:09:00.001-07:00

A SUCKER FOR SEXY STORIES
She has been described as the “Bard of the Blowjob,” the “Oracle of Oral” and, doubtless, a number of other wittily alliterative titles.

So far as Chrissie Bentley is concerned, however, she’s simply a super-specialist in a world where there are no limits.

“I guess you could say I write good head,” she says. But, before you dismiss her as just one more in the growing tide of erotic authors who are clogging the shelves and flooding the internet, when she says she targets a singular market, she means it. For other writers, the entire world of sexual experience is their oyster. Bentley, although she’s not averse to a little bit of everything, goes straight for the big blue vein.

Bentley started publishing erotica four years ago, “as a way of getting back on my feet at the end of a relationship. I figured that if I could bring myself to focus on the good bits, it’d help me forget what a jerk he was. ” Since that time, her stories have spread across some half a dozen different websites, and spilled into magazines, anthologies and her own novels.

Currently engaged in compiling and editing an anthology of women’s oral sex stories for Mojocastle Press, the aptly titled The Longest Kiss, Bentley’s first novel, Miss America, is currently being serialized on the prestigious Ruthie’s Club website, having been rejected by more than a dozen conventional publishers.

“They told me it was too extreme. ‘Gratuitously nasty’ is a phrase I remember. Yet the theme of the book is learning to trust, first yourself and then other people. There are a few passages that might shock people, but they’re balanced by this incredible sense of empowerment and strength, that builds and builds until it simply explodes triumphantly out of the end. I’m thrilled to see it finally reaching an audience, and the response from readers has been almost unanimously positive.”

A novella, What I Did On My Summer Vacation (Mardi Gras Publishing), following her tongue and tonsils around southern England, was published last March. She has an adult screenplay currently in production, while she has also published two further stand-alone novels: Below Blue London (Mojocastle Press), which she described as an historical epic starring Charles Dickens, Elizabeth I and an army of willing fellatrixes, and Naughty Miranda (Forbidden Publications), the confessions of an orally obsessed prime time television star.

“Naughty Miranda is the name I used for a lot of stories when I first started writing. Some friends and I were watching Sex and the City one night and one of them said I looked like Cynthia Nixon’s character, Miranda. So I adopted it for my stories, and it gained a lot of support. I’ve been slowly retiring it over the last year or so, but I wanted the old girl to go out in style.”

Which she does. Naughty Miranda closes with its titular heroine remaking the 70s porn flick The Sexorcists, a fellatio-filled occult thriller that makes Deep Throat look like a quick nibble. But Bentley’s literary fascination with the subject is not without its drawbacks.

“I posted my first stories at Eroticstories.com, an Internet site that encourages readers to respond to authors, private e-mails about the stories, and I was astonished by the attitudes of some... by no means all, but some of the guys who were writing to me. I hate to use the word ‘Neanderthal,’ but their attitude towards oral sex was so negative towards women, far more than with other acts.

“I’m not a feminist; if anything, I’m an equallist – sex should be the ultimate level playing field. But a lot of guys genuinely believe that the only reason a woman wants to go down on a guy is for his gratification, and we get nothing out of it at all. Which is bullshit.”

So, Bentley started playing up the girl’s power, to remind guys that, yeah, they may have this big powerful lance that they can knock down walls with. But women have teeth, and fists, and, most important she says, “we have the power to leave them hanging for hours.”

More than any other act, Bentley believes, oral sex demands perfect trust. “He trusts her not to suffocate him, she trusts him not to try and choke her. And you both trust each other not to bite things off.” But society in general continues to portray fellatio, in particular, as the province of the most sordid backstreet hooker.

“It has a terrible rap,” Bentley continues. “It’s only a generation or so ago that it was still considered, if not completely illegal, then at least unnaturally perverse. And people still behave as though it’s cheap and sluttish.”

It’s this attitude, she explains, that ensures that her most prized asset is her anonymity. The Delaware native has worked in mainstream publishing for close to twenty years. But her fame in the world of erotic literature remains a closely guarded secret. Even among her own circle of friends and associates, only her boyfriend is aware of her alter-ego, and she said that even he has a hard time sometimes, differentiating between fiction (“which is what I’m writing”) and fact.

“He’s getting over it, but it was difficult at first. He’d read something I wrote and it’d be ‘well, how come you’ve never done that to me?’ And we return to what I said before about other forms of storytelling. If I wrote crime books, would readers assume I’d actually committed or solved those same crimes? No. So why do they take erotica so literally?

She gives one example. “Not so long ago, I had to call up an editor, a guy, to sort out payment for a story I’d written. The kid who answered the phone didn’t even put me on hold, he just shouted ‘hey, it’s the girl who likes to suck cock.’ I was horrified. If I wrote murder mysteries, it wouldn’t be ‘the girl who likes killing people’; if I wrote historical novels, I wouldn’t be ‘the girl who likes beheading her servants.’ But, because it’s erotica and, especially because it’s oral sex, straightaway guys feel they can put you down.”

She laments how “cocksucker” remains one of the harshest insults you can throw at somebody, “when it should be one of the most beautiful compliments. Spiritually, it’s the most powerful act there is, and psychologically, it’s the most intimate,” she said.

That is the conflict that Bentley explores in her writing. “I’d never say I’m on a crusade to bring blowjobs to the breakfast table, partly because there’s a time and a place for everything, and in front of a bowl of cornflakes isn’t it, and partly because there’s a lot of other writers out there who are making the same points as I am, only maybe not as single-mindedly.

“I realized that when I was approached to compile The Longest Kiss. It proved that I’ve created a niche for myself. At the same time, though, reading through the contributions I’ve received so far, it’s great to see how much attitudes towards it have changed, just in the few years since I started writing.”

Bentley would not claim any credit for this, though. “The adult industry has grown so vast these days that, although it’s still not considered ‘mainstream entertainment,’ in some ways it’s even bigger than the mainstream. And, just as everybody has their own taste in, and take on, different bands or TV shows or Hollywood blockbusters, they all have their own taste in sex.

Still, she points out that adult movies are moving so fast now that “a lot of the things you see in them today wouldn’t even have been considered sexual a few years back. They’re just weird.

So people are turning to literature instead, both as readers and writers, and perceptions that have been in place forever are now breaking down.

“I don’t think you ever want to completely shatter a taboo, because forbidden fruit will always taste better. But, if more men – and women, too – can start viewing oral as a meeting of equals, rather than some kind of power trip, that can only be better for everybody,” she said.

MISS AMERICA

2011-04-04T13:09:00.000-07:00

MISS AMERICA (NOVEL) by Chrissie Bentley
Miss America is a tense, extreme, erotic and often disturbing study of a young woman taken to the limits of her sexual endurance – there to discover that her limits are only the beginning. An interview with the author

EXCERPT
I stood, scanned the seats that made up the front rows of the audience. My eye settled on a young man seated a little down from where I’d eaten my meal. His expression told me all about him.

Blonde, young, frighteningly Aryan, he had that self-righteous air about him that one normally only sees in old newsreels about the Hitler Youth. He stared back at me, his face a mask of disgust, and I could read it like a book. He had not enjoyed my display, not the tenderness of the love-making, nor the passion of the oral, nor even the unscripted violence of the sodomy. He could not understand why a woman had been permitted to do a man’s job; and he could not understand why that man had not been him to begin with. He would show these bitches how to behave, he would teach them to be fucked and to suck and to accept every kick, every punch, every brutal penetration for what it was, a gift from the Gods, the manna of their Master. Their lot in life. I read all of that in his stare, and I despised him for it.

I stepped towards him, came to a standstill just inches away. The dildo, slicked with Chloe’s shit, danced in his face. He brushed it aside, like he would an annoying insect.

“Suck it,” I commanded.

Once again I was spat at, and this time his aim was unerring, catching me hard on the cheek. I did not flinch. “Suck it,” I repeated.

He gathered himself in his chair. Any moment now he was going to rise up and hit me. The room knew that, too. Any moment now.

“You heard her. Suck it!” Magdalene’s voice rang out. The man turned to face her.

“I refuse.” Now he did stand, a hand pushing me to the ground as he stormed past me, across the center of the room, past the table to which Chloe had once again been secured; and smack into the line of attendants who now blocked his way.

For a moment, there was an impasse. He stood there smoldering furiously; they stood there staring back impassively. Then, as one, they swarmed upon him, grasping his arms; pulling his jacket down behind him to lock his wrists together. His trousers were dragged down, pulled off and discarded. His briefs came with them. His waistcoat and his shirt.

Naked, he was dragged to one of the tables; its occupants swarmed from their seats to form a loose semi-circle around him. Forced to his knees, his still imprisoned arms were tightly bound to the table leg. His captors stepped aside; the man tried to rise but was quite unable. Again I stepped in front of him, angled the shaft to his lips.

His teeth were clenched, his jaw immovable.

“Here, this’ll open his mouth!” Somebody hurled a lit cigar across the room. I glanced at it; an attendant bent to retrieve it, and then very slowly, very deliberately, touched the glowing embers to the man’s hand. He opened his mouth to scream; I plunged inside.

I had switched off the vibrator. I wanted this to be slow, ugly, the most humiliating moment of this repulsive man’s life. I did not even fuck. Rather, I thrust the full length into his throat, and then merely pantomimed movement, so that he might choke on the cock, and choke on his fear of what would eventually happen… of what was happening… to him, in a room crammed with the very same people before whom he had once preened and posed and pontificated.

A thick accent called out from the circle around us. “Hey, Jurgens!” I was right, he was German. “Remember that whore in Dusseldorf? Maybe her ghost has caught up with you at last!”

A bustle of whispers. Still barely moving, just a light swaying motion so he’d know I was there, I strained my ears to catch what people were saying. “Street girl.” Yes, I got that. “Dusseldorf.” I know that as well. “Police. Murder. Choked. Prick.” Put them altogether. “Never caught.” Well, Jurgens, you’ve been caught now.

I looked down. The dildo was in his mouth to its root. I pulled back a little, saw his eyes… not so proud now, rather pitiful in fact… register a moment’s relief, thankful that the ordeal was ending. Wrong. It’s just beginning. I pushed forward again, and now I did begin fucking him, riding his face like I’d ridden Chloe’s ass, but there was not even a hint of gentleness now, not the merest glimmer of mercy.

That’s for my first night in the dungeon. That’s for the cocks up my ass. That’s for all the cum that I’ve swallowed. That’s for Chloe. The list was endless. Every indignity, every humiliation, every whipping and slapping and pinching, every spasm of pain and suffering and terror, and that’s for every night I’ve wished I was dead, and that’s for every girl who is dead, that and that and that and that and…. And then I came, wishing that this thing was equipped with a reserve cylinder so that I could flood his throat and drown his stomach, and then pull out and soak his face, so that the entire room could see him on his knees choking and sobbing and begging and screaming, and blowing great bubbles of snotty white from his nostrils.

I kicked him hard in the balls; he tried to scream but I was too deep in his throat; he gurgled instead, then collapsed to one side, so I kicked him again. I tore at the dildo, unfastened the clips, removed both the sensors and then, leaning over his prostrate, gagging form, coughing up cum and snot and bile, I lay the contraption beside him, so that the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes would be its one wide eye staring back at him.

Then, turning on my heel, I walked across the floor, past the roars of applause, into the hallway and back to my apartment. I knew I would pay for this later, but right now, I didn’t care.

Right now, I was Miss America.

THE FIRST TIME & 59 OTHER MAGICAL MINUTES

2011-04-04T13:03:00.000-07:00

THE FIRST TIME & 59 OTHER MAGICAL MINUTES by Jenny Swallows
introduction by Chrissie Bentley

Publication Date: Oct 29 2009
ISBN/EAN13: 1449568718 / 9781449568719
Page Count: 132

also available for Kindle

There's erotic verse, and there's erotic verse. But we guarantee that you've never read any like this.

For ten years, Jenny Swallows has been spray-painting her fearlessly explicit sexual fantasies on the walls of the Internet, building up a devoted following of readers, and establishing herself as the undisputed Queen of the Verse Perverse.

Kicking down the traditional walls of modern erotic writing, placing into verse the sensations and situations to which other writers devote pages of prose, Jenny's lust knows no limits, and her first ever anthology is proof of that.

THE FIRST TIME & 59 OTHER MAGIC MINUTES is a breathtaking compendium comprising no less than SIXTY sexsational verses, tracing her sexual journey from inquiring teen to amorous adult, from backstreet assignations to the sanctity of marriage - and beyond.

Poetry will never seem the same again.

REVIEWS
There are so many cultural oxymorons going around these days (“reality TV” for one) that one can’t help but curl up your toes a little when a book is served up as “erotic verse” – it’s a contradiction in terms, after all. But even a cursory dip into The First Time &… should set your mind at ease on one score, while sending your pulse racing on several others.

This is NOT your father’s poetry. In fact, the introduction (by author Chrissie Bentley) makes it clear that Swallows herself hates the “P” word, preferring to view herself as a wordsmith in the mould of Edward Lear, Hillaire Belloc or even Dr Seuss; that is, the purveyor of a stream-of-rhyming-consciousness that simply doesn’t known when to let up. It’s that brilliant.

The subject is sex, of course – but sex in its rawest, most physically detailed and almost surgically graphic form. There is love and devotion to be found in these pages, and it’s shaped with such overwhelmingly animalistic passion that the occasional crudity of language and imagery almost passes by unnoticed.

The verses tend to be short; most barely overflow a page, a couple scarcely top a paragraph. But scene after scenario is documented with such naturalistic precision that the brevity itself becomes an exhilarating experience, while Swallows’ breathtaking honesty rises above both form and format to create what practically amounts to a whole new literary style, graffiti’d bathroom limericks spray-painted ten feet tall. The First Time & 59 Other Magical Minutes certainly won’t be to every poetry-lover’s taste, but we’ve already established that this isn’t poetry. It’s lyrical lust.
TCM REVIEWS

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Before opening your copy of The First Time & 59 Other Magic Minutes, a word of warning. Erotic verse usually falls into one of two basic categories. Either it’s a jumble of allegory and imagery that leaves you scratching your head long before it affects any other part of the body; or it’s brutal, rude and explicit. Or it aligns itself with the kind of stuff you might find on a bathroom wall, which is a fantastic genre all its own, as any woman who has spent time in a public stall will tell you.

This time it’s the work of Jenny Swallows, a long established internet author whose writings range from the simplest, crudest couplet to some breathtakingly well-developed stanzas shot through with a wallop of wicked observation without ever forgetting her primary purpose; to thrill, arouse and sometimes astound.

From alleyway trysts to virginal first time nerves, from saucy confessionals to pillow-talk whisperings, sixty verses fill this volume and while her distinctive name will probably tip you off to a lot of their contents, the introduction to the book (penned, incidentally, by local Philadelphia eroticist Chrissie Bentley) insists she was born with it, and didn’t simply adopt it as an appropriate nom-de-porn.

Weaving a delicate balance of humor, tension and out-and-out lust, Swallows remarkably avoids any of the traps that normally devour this particular genre. There’s certainly little repetition in either setting or style; “the scene,” as one of her own titles reminds us, “is as important as the scheme,” and just a few well-chosen opening lines ensures every verse enjoys its own individuality. Swallows insists that her poetic lineage is derived from the literary likes of Hilaire Belloc and Edward Lear, with a glimpse, too, towards Dr Seuss. They, and their admirers, might not thank you for including Jenny Swallows in any list of their most accomplished acolytes. But The First Time & 59 Other Magic Minutes will leave you reeling delightedly all the same.

This slim volume is either the most brilliant poetry ever written, or its antithesis. You decide.
EXAMINER.COM

COCKTALES - SCREAMING ORGASM

2011-04-04T12:45:00.000-07:00

COCKTALES - SCREAMING ORGASM

Cocktales is a fabulous new series from Xcite Books that offers a quality selection of erotic stories with mixed themes. If you are looking for variety and the very best erotic writing then you will love these especially selected titles.

includes BACK TO NATURE by Chrissie Bentley

EXCERPT

We got here last night, Rosemary and Kevin in his cute little Volkswagon Bug, Peter and I in style aboard his SUV, and it’s been a non-stop laugh; indeed, by the time he and I actually turned in for the night, with our sleeping bags resolutely lined up against opposite walls of the tent, I was asleep before Peter even put the light out. Tonight, on the other hand… I was still drifting when I heard a movement; and opened my eyes to catch him swinging his bare legs out of his bedding, reach for his trousers and then stand up butt naked. Except it wasn’t his butt that was facing me.

I was lying on my side, my face squashed in the pillow, and hidden within enough shadow that he’d never have known my eyes were open. It was the sound of me catching my breath that he heard, and one hand shot down to cover his modesty, even as he breathed an apology. The maneuver didn’t work; at least an inch of his cock was still tantalizingly visible, peeping out from behind his hand.

“Sorry Chrissie, I thought you were sleeping.”

“Yummy.” Oh God, I can’t believe I said that. Fortunately, neither can he.

“Sorry? What did you say?”

“Uh… I said ‘not yet.’”

“Okay…”; he zipped up his jeans. “I’m just running to the bathroom. Is it alright if I leave the light on till I get back?”

“Sure.” I watched him leave, feeling my heart pounding in my chest, and trying to recreate what I’d seen in my mind. He wasn’t huge… or, at least, I’ve seen bigger. And he wasn’t hard… halfway there, maybe, and I think that was part of the attraction, the knowledge that he could have been going either way, so it hung uncertainly in-between, straight out with just the suggestion of an upward curve. But the head was full and the flesh looked smooth, a kind of reverse silhouette against the dark patch of his pubes. I hoped I’d get another look when he returned; and I wondered whether I’d ever get a closer one.

He came back and I could tell from the shape of his trousers that things had calmed down a little. He was also a lot more careful taking them off than he’d been putting them on, killing the light before getting undressed, then diving back into his sleeping bag just in case I could see in the dark.

“You tired?” I asked.

“No, it’s just good lying here, listening to the night.”

I listened. Bugs, birds, mysterious rustles and grunts. Wild bears. Psycho killers. “I’ve not been camping since I was a kid,” I told him. “I can’t believe it’s so noisy out there.” I lightened my voice as much as I could; I don’t care how much I wanted him… and the wet warmth spreading between my legs suggested that I wanted him a lot… I wasn’t going to snare him with the silly frightened girl act.

“You get used to it.” He paused. “Of course, there are some sounds that you can never escape from.” I listened and heard the rhythmic creaking of a metal-framed camp bed, as Rosemary and her companion took their own selves back to nature in the next tent. “Can’t be too comfortable,” I replied, but Peter laughed. “I lost my virginity on a camping trip,” he said. “In the pouring rain, in a pile of dead leaves. Now, that was uncomfortable.”

“For both of you, I’d imagine,” I said. “Wet leaves… yuk.”

“Ah, so you’ve done it as well?”

“Haven’t we all? Still, at least if it was your first time, you didn’t know it got better. For me, I remember wondering if it was possible for it to get worse. And I was sure I was going to get poison ivy.”

“Nowhere awkward, I hope?”

“Knowing my luck?” I chuckled. And then, daringly, “especially as you can’t even ask anyone to kiss it better.”

Now it was his turn… I think… to catch his breath. “Now, that is a shame.”

COCKTALES - BETWEEN THE SHEETS

2011-04-04T12:41:00.000-07:00

COCKTALES - BETWEEN THE SHEETS

Cocktales is a fabulous new series from Xcite Books that offers a quality selection of erotic stories with mixed themes. If you are looking for variety and the very best erotic writing then you will love these especially selected titles

includes THERE'S A CURE FOR ALMOST EVERYTHING by Chrissie Bentley

EXCERPT

“Poor baby. Can I get you anything at all?”

“Yeah, a cigarette.”

I smiled. “Not until you’re out of here.” Mark had been in hospital for a week now, ever since taking a tumble off his roof (don’t ask what he was doing up there!) and, no matter how many visitors he received, the only one he really wanted, ten minutes with Mr Nick O’Tine, was the one that he was forbidden. Not only did the hospital impose a strict non-smoking rule, but his room also seemed to double as a storeroom for every oxygen cylinder the ward might require.

I didn’t know how he did it. I quit smoking a couple of years back, and I can still remember the agonies I passed through – and I was doing it of my own free will. I couldn’t imagine lying there day after day, being forcibly deprived of my little fix. Still, at least they’d given him a patch. I went cold turkey. “Anything else?”

“How about a hot nurse?”

I shook my head. “You’re really striking out today, aren’t you?” I reached out, lay a hand on his as it rested in his lap, squeezed it… then squeezed it again. I hadn’t felt a boner like that in I don’t know how long.

His eyes flickered guiltily into mine. “Told you I needed a hot nurse.”

“You need a hot something.” Purposefully I left my hand where it lay, even after he eased his out from beneath mine, and clamped it instead on my wrist. It was a long time since Mark and I had been lovers… three years? Maybe four. But we’d remained friends ever since, and I think we’d both wondered “what if…” – although what if what, I could no longer remember.

I squeezed him through the thin hospital blankets, and felt an answering twitch. “At least nothing broke down there,” I whispered, casting an eye towards the door to his room. It wasn’t closed all the way, but the way the room was angled, I’d see someone walking in a few seconds before they saw me. But just to be on the safe side….

My hand slipped beneath the blankets, groped for a moment, then touched hot, hard flesh. Mark groaned as my fingertips stroked him gently, and again as I tightened my grip around his shaft and began rolling the flesh back and forth, back and forth….

I loved the feel of him in my hand, marveled at the way my mind seemed to leap back all those years to the days when I did this (and more… so much more) on a regular basis, remembering how far to pull back, how hard to push forward, when to rest and caress his balls, when to scrape a thumbnail across his helmet, and when to go hell for leather, pumping him harder as he started to come….

And come and come and come. It felt endless, a flood that I first felt flowing over my fist, as his cock spasmed in my hand and Mark let out a sigh like I’d never heard him utter before.

I reached for a Kleenex and pulled back the covers.

COCKTALES - ALL NIGHT LONG

2011-04-04T12:38:00.000-07:00

COCKTALES - ALL NIGHT LONG

includes BUMPY ROADS ARE BEST by Chrissie Bentley

Cocktales is a fabulous new series from Xcite Books that offers a quality selection of erotic stories with mixed themes. If you are looking for variety and the very best erotic writing then you will love these especially selected titles.

EXCERPT

With the exception of the moron I’d been dating for the last six months, who was probably still up to his neck in pussy right now, how long was it since I was last this close... this incredibly close... to a decent-sized penis? So close I could almost smell its musky odor; so close I could almost taste it....

My heart was beating so loud that I was sure Brendan would hear it above the engine, but he showed no sign that he even knew I was awake. Occasionally he wriggled a little in his seat, and his prick shifted with him, almost as if it had a mind of its own, and didn't want to lose its place. And I was a little shocked to find myself hoping that it wouldn't.

I pictured Brendan in my mind. Not a bad-looking guy - nothing you'd chase down the street on first sight, but cute in an everyday kind of way. Nicely spoken, smart, thoughtful, probably reliable. Give him a job where he'd be home every night, and he'd make someone a great husband one day.

Still feigning sleep, I shifted a little, moving my head to give his dick a little more leeway. I was rewarded with another twitch and, bolder now, I moved my left arm, so that I could cradle my cheek on my hand... palm down, of course. My hand lay across his left thigh; my fingers just resting on his cock. Lightly, I pressed down with my fingertips, trying to measure his thickness. Not bad, not bad at all.

I didn't want to move too fast; I was still meant to be asleep, after all. But I was wondering what thoughts were going through Brendan's mind. It was 1.25. I determined not to move again for 10 minutes, but it was difficult to resist. The heat was rising from his lap, and now my nostrils really had picked up his scent. My fingertips squeezed him again and, this time, I heard him give a sharp gasp. When he looked down at me, though, my eyes remained closed, my face the impassive innocence of a happy sleeper.

Again I lay stock still, waiting for ten minutes to pass. Again my resolve cracked after just four or five. I'd teased boys before, of course I had. But never this deliberately, this delightfully. I shifted my position, raising my head a little, then laying it down again. If I'd got my bearings right... yes. The tip of his dick was pushing into my cheek now, and I could half feel, half sense the dribble of pre-cum that was soaking into the fabric of his pants.

Brendan, too, now seemed finally aware of what was going on, and one hand dropped from the steering wheel to brush my hair lightly. I responded with another gentle squeeze, then let my fingers slide a little, to touch his balls. Brendan didn't speak, but started stroking the side of my face, very gently.

I slid my finger back up his shaft, tracing the line of his fly. A zip. Raising my head slightly, I sought out the tab and unlocked his trousers - his cock leaped out almost comically, relishing its sudden freedom and pressing hot and naked against my chin. I paused for a moment, breathing in his sharp scent and feeling a welcoming pulse in response. Then my tongue flicked out to greet His Majesty, wrapping around the swollen head and testing his juiciness. He was delicious.

Slowly my lips closed over the very tip, suckling gently before I drew a little more of him in, mere fractions at a time, until at last I held the hot head enclosed in my mouth. I wished there was more light in the cab than the faint glow of the dashboard instruments, and the muted streetlights that rushed past us; I wanted to finally look at the shaft I'd spent the last 45 minutes blindly toying with, admire its color, its size, its unbelievable hardness.

I couldn’t, so my eyes settled on the odometer instead. I remembered years ago, going down on my boyfriend of the time and, once it was all over, thrilling as he told me I'd just given him the greatest ten minutes of his life. Brendan, I determined, was going to get the best ten miles of his life. And then some.

COCKTALES - SEX ON THE BEACH

2011-04-04T12:32:00.001-07:00

COCKTALES - SEX ON THE BEACH

includes CATCH OF THE DAY by Chrissie Bentley

Cocktales is a fabulous new series from Xcite Books that offers a quality selection of erotic stories with mixed themes. If you are looking for variety and the very best erotic writing then you will love these especially selected titles.

EXCERPT

“Turn around.”

I did so, knelt expectantly on my hands and knees, my ass in the air, as he ran a hand gently across my buttocks and then slowly entered me from behind, pushing himself deep and then remaining motionless, so that I crouched, skewered on his organ. His hands clenched my sides and he began rocking me back and forth, while his own body remained as still as a statue.

I closed my eyes, allowed him to control my every movement… sometimes fast, until my pussy felt as though it was turning inside out; sometimes so slow that I thought his shaft would never end; sometimes so deep that every thrust sent my innards lurching; and sometimes so shallow that I could feel the rim of his helmet against my outer lips, and hear my hole sucking noisily at his glans.

Trusting one arm to hold both my weight and my balance, I reached the other between my legs, to cradle his scrotum. It felt heavy, sticky, hot… I imagined pressing my face to it, sucking at the skin before enclosing one ball, then the other, in my mouth. But he held me firm, groaning as my fist squeezed his sac. “Keep doing that.” I obeyed; when one arm tired, I switched, all the while conscious of the ever-changing sensations that he was drilling into my pussy – and drilling faster now, his own hips finally joining the party, to roll against my rocking.

I clamped both hands into the sand beneath us, slowed my own motion… I caught my breath, then hissed insistently. “I want to take your cum in my mouth.” I didn’t give him a chance to react; he slipped out of me as I whirled around, crouched, and plunged him into my mouth, his movements growing faster as I sought out his rhythm and rode with him. In and out he flowed, as I placed both hands on his hips, allowed him to sink as deep as he could into my throat, and taking him in my hand only when I needed to catch a breath.

I held the tip of his cock to my open lips, cradled it on my tongue, jerking his shaft with one fist, while the other reached for his chest, tweaked his nipples. I lapped at his leaking hole, thrilling to the conjoined flavors of my puss and his pre-cum, pulling on his prick all the time.

His hand fell on my head, holding it still for a moment, before pushing me back against the boulder, his body moving seamlessly with me, so that I never lost the tantalizing taste of his knob-end for a moment. Only when I was flat on my back once again did he shift, flipping himself around so that his mouth was at my pussy, and his cock was again at my lips.

Ruthie's Club

2011-04-04T12:28:00.000-07:00

"Ruthie’s Club is committed to maintaining a tastefully sexy image in the erotic story community. Our stories are for an adult audience, written by adults. Therefore, we will consider only those stories that meet our high standards of quality and readability."

It was the first paying site I ever worked for... and one of the best. Staffed by a truly devoted team of editors and administrators, Ruthie's Club was the web's largest illustrated erotic story site. Indeed, it broke with the traditional internet norm by ensuring that every story was both properly edited and appropriately illustrated, commissioning new art from a team of artists every time.

New stories appeared weekly, and rounded up a genuinely talented team of authors and artists. But all good things come to an end and the site slowly faded into oblivion, before finally throwing in the towel in August 2009. Today, not a trace remains, although a Google search will bring up a wealth of tribute sites, a few of which I've included here....

Whatever Happened To Ruthie's Club?

The End of an Era

A taste of what you missed

And a few pages here, reproducing some of the classic Ruthie's illustrations that accompanied my contributions to the site.

stand-alone tales

More stand-alone tales

Cousin Tom

Ambrose Horne

Below Blue London

Miss America

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

NAUGHTY MIRANDA

2011-04-04T12:24:00.000-07:00

QUESTION - IF THEY MADE A MOVIE FROM ONE OF YOUR BOOKS, WHICH ONE WOULD YOU CHOOSE, AND WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE PLAY THE LEAD?

ANSWER - NAUGHTY MIRANDA, AND IT WOULD HAVE TO BE FAYE REAGAN

NAUGHTY MIRANDA (NOVEL) by Chrissie Bentley
Product Details
Publisher Erotic Excursions
File Format PDF
File Size 921.6 kB

It is more than twenty years since Miranda Bradley first walked into our evening television viewing, the butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth girl-next-door who captured our hearts in her first ever role, and has retained her hold on them ever since. Living a life without scandal or mishap, or any of the behind-the-scenes shockers that habitually shake the image of her small-screen contemporaries, Bradley was long ago dubbed the Virgin Queen by the tabloids. But the time has come to puree that purity – and who better to flick the switch than Bradley herself? In other words, butter still wouldn’t melt in her mouth. But her men always do.

EXCERPT
You only had to look at Madeleine to know she was man-eater, in every sense of the word. She had one of those mouths that was simply made to swallow cock, and the kind of body that made every cock want to be swallowed. Just walking down the road with her, as I sometimes did after book club, every guy on the street would turn to look at her, while she kept up a running commentary, just loud enough for me to hear, on why she would, or wouldn’t, go home with each of them.

“I used to practice on bananas.”

She paused. “Really, before I ever had a guy, I used to practice on bananas. I’d peel ‘em back and see how far down my throat I could stick one. The first wet dream I ever had, I was blowing the guy next door, and when I did start dating, I almost went mad waiting for him to make the first move, just so I could get him in my mouth.

“None of the other stuff interested me. I didn’t care about losing my virginity, or having my tits felt, or my pussy licked. I just wanted to suck a cock and it was ridiculous, because you’d think every guy in the world would have been queuing up at my door, but I went through four boyfriends before I even got my hands down somebody’s trousers. And when it did finally look like happening, the idiot got so excited so quickly, he’d come all my hand before I’d even got his pants down.

“Anyway, one night I was babysitting for a family down the road. They just wanted me to stay until their older kids got home. They’d gone to a party or something, there was a boy who was about a year older than me, and his sister who was a couple of years younger. And the boy offered to walk me home. He didn’t know I only lived about five doors away, so I took him in the opposite direction entirely, and we wound up on the baseball diamond, it was pitch black, and we just started fooling around. Not kissing or anything, more like wrestling. He’d grabbed my wrap and started running off with it, and I caught him, and we were on the ground, he was sitting on my chest, pinning me down, and I was trying to get him off me, by tickling his ribs.

“He was squirming, and pushing forward, his crotch was right in my face, and that was when I noticed he was H-A-R-D., hard. Now, I should mention it was early summer, and really warm, so all he had on down there was a pair of shorts, so this was a real tent-pole sticking out, and I thought, ‘well, it’s halfway there anyway,’ so I just popped it out of his shorts, opened my mouth and in he went.

“It was nothing like I’d expected. A lot bigger, for a start. Fatter. I’d never found a banana that thick, so that surprised me. And it tasted different as well. I’d never really thought about what a cock would taste like, I just assumed it would be a lot like any other part of the body, your arm or something, so that surprised me as well, although not as much as I surprised him. I think it took him a moment or two to realize precisely what was happening, but suddenly he was ‘what are you doing?’

“Now, you all know it’s impossible to speak with something that big in your mouth, so I just made a muffled mmpphh-mmpphhh sort of sound, and held on a little tighter in case he tried to pull away – which he did, because I think he was getting a little scared now, in case I bit it off, maybe, or I didn’t know what I was doing and might freak out when I found out.

“So I let go and said, ‘what do you think I’m doing? If you’re going to go round sticking things like that in people’s faces, what do you expect to happen?’ That completely threw him, so while he was thinking about it, I just reached up and popped him back in my mouth.

“The problem was, he was so big I couldn’t do anything once it was in there. I couldn’t suck, I could barely move my tongue, I just lay there with him sticking in there. So I took hold of his hips and started swaying him back and forth, until I could feel him sliding in and out. And, of course, he figured that out very quickly. He leaned forward, with his hands on the ground, and started fucking my mouth.

“He was so gentle about it, and as my muscles began to relax, I found I could do all sorts of little tricks, little sucks and nips, and he was moving faster and faster, and it was so smooth, my eyes were closed and this really was the best thing I’d ever felt in my entire life, the happiest I’d ever been, just lying there with him moving in and out of me. My lips were tracing the little bumps and veins on his prick, and the ridge, and the smooth curve, it was everything I’d ever dreamed it could be and more.

“I didn’t ever want it to end, even when my mouth started aching, but of course it had to. He was thrusting harder and harder, until suddenly he jerked himself out and, in the same instant, I felt his come whip across my cheeks and my lips, which was great because that’s the one thing I’d never actually figured out how to handle. I know now, of course, but back then, I really wasn’t sure, I figured I’d just deal with it when it came. If you’ll pardon the pun.

“I licked a little off my lips, and I wasn’t sure about the taste, so I wiped the rest off with my hand, and smeared it on the grass, while he just collapsed in a heap beside me, panting. It was so funny, he was completely exhausted, and it was ages before he even opened his eyes again, let alone said anything.”

“So what did he say?” Laura asked.

“I really can’t remember,” Madeleine replied. “I was too busy wondering how long it would take him to get it up again.”

REVIEW
In an age when erotic literature is either driving hard for mainstream respectability, or following its movie cousin’s dive into ever more extreme scenarios and brutality, Chrissie Bentley’s Naughty Miranda arrives to remind us that sometimes, erotica is just that erotic. Vividly so. Presented as the autobiography of a (presumably) fictional primetime TV star, a teenaged rival to the Jump Street and 90210 hits of the early 1990s, Naughty Miranda details the behind the scenes love life of its titular star, as she chafes against her TV role’s portrayal of herself as the ultimate all-American good girl. And it is no exaggeration to say that every chapter packs in more exquisite sexuality than many erotic novels muster over the course of their full length.

“Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth,” insists the book’s jacket, “but her men do,” and that should serve as ample description of Miranda’s sexual forte, as it plays out in exquisite (but never repetitive) fashion again and again. Whether hitch-hiking home after a disastrous vacation, playing Scrabble with her scriptwriter, or even attending her local book club, Naughty Miranda locates the sexual possibilities in every situation, then explores them in vivacious detail. Bentley writes from the hip, and pulls no punches. There is no fluffy romance to confuse Miranda’s motives, and no flowery analogies to disguise her intentions. She is just a girl who enjoys sex, and out of her enjoyment emerges one of the most deliciously explicit novels of the year so far.

TCM REVIEWS

THE ILLUSTRATED CHRISSIE - WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION

2011-04-04T12:17:00.000-07:00

The above illustrations were commissioned by the much-missed Ruthie's Club website to accompany the first (internet) publication of my novella What I Did On My Summer Vacation

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION

2011-04-04T12:16:00.000-07:00

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION (novella) by Chrissie Bentley
Publication date: Nov 18 2009
ISBN/EAN13: 144990081X / 9781449900816
Page Count: 74

KINDLE EDITION NOW AVAILABLE - buy here
PRINT EDITION STILL AVAILABLE - buy here

Everybody says you should never mix business with pleasure. But my vacation had already been squeezed in between a couple of work assignments, and I was a single girl in a foreign country. What did I expect might happen?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation is a non-stop whirl of sight-seeing and sex, historic England seen from angles that the tourist guides never mention. And you wouldn't believe my holiday snaps!

EXCERPT
I hadn’t noticed it at first…the fact it was uncut, that is. After all, we had already made love once, and it didn’t feel any different than any other cock I’d had inside me. Moreover, when Martin stepped…or, more accurately, leaped…out of his trousers once we got up to my room, I really didn’t feel the need to study it.

It was only as he moved up my body, his face glistening with pussy juice and my heart still hammering from the orgasm he sent shimmering through me, only as I reached between his legs to pull him up further, as I smiled at his galloping return to semi-stiffness, did I notice a difference. A little extra “give” in the way it felt. On the other hand, it could have been the thin flap of skin clinging stubbornly to the fat purple helmet, a network of tiny veins dark against its opaque sheen.

I held him in one hand, gently massaging his shaft, while I wondered how to phrase my next question. In the end, the silence and stillness felt embarrassing. “Okay, I’m sorry, but… is it meant to do that?”

Martin glanced down with a little more panic in his eyes than he realized. “Do what?”

“Um, I’ve never seen…” I indicated the bridge of skin. “What is it?”

“My foreskin?” He sounded confused for a moment. And then, “Is it true about American guys, then? They’re all circumcised?”

“Well, I don’t know about all of them, but most, are I think.”

“Not over here, luv. We like to keep our men intact. After all, you never know when you’re going to wake up in a blackberry bush.”

Eh? I wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that. (I figured it out later… don’t bother asking). “But does it stay like that?”

Again, I touched the curious flap, and then let out a little “oh” as it slowly retracted onto his shaft.

“Just gets a bit sticky, I guess,” he concluded, and I stroked some more, watching in fascination as a thick wave of skin coiled up with my fist, to tap the rim of his helmet.

I looked up at him, he was watching me curiously. “It’s alright, isn’t it? You don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind. I’ve just never seen one before.” Then, to shatter the growing awareness of the fact I was treating him like a laboratory specimen, I leaned my head forward and let my mouth slip over his helmet. He sighed and an inexplicable sense of relief washed over me. Well, at least that’s the same.

His foreskin continued to fascinate me. His prick was thick, his helmet thicker. However, when I rolled the extra layer of skin up over it, it became thicker still, my lips strained to engulf it. The taste changed, too; sharp and salty when I pulled his skin back, markedly less so as I drew it forward. I loved the contrast, loved the sensation of the flesh folding back against my lips, and then rudely bumping them on its way forward…back and forth, back and forth.

He gasped. “Please, don’t wank me so fast.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t wank me so fast. There’s a lot of spunk down there.”

What? I have heard of packing phrasebooks when you travel abroad, but even after my linguistic mix-up with Melissa last week, going to bed with someone never struck me as an occasion when you would need one. Still jerking him, I asked, “What’s wank?”

“It’s what you’re doing now.”

Oh, right. My hand stopped moving. “And spunk?”

I knew he didn’t mean courage. “That’s what’ll happen if you don’t stop the wanking.” He smiled. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t speak English.”

I pulled his skin back as far as I could and licked hard up his shaft, following the thick vein running its full length. “No, I speak in tongues.”

REVIEWS

Breathtaking, breathless and brilliantly brazen, What I Did On My Summer Vacation is a vacation in its own right, 49 terrifically paced pages that set out their erotic agenda from the very outset (“if this is how they treat you in First Class, imagine what happens in Coach”), and are over far too quickly.

A New York businesswoman travels to the UK for two weeks of meetings, interspersed with some sightseeing around the Dickensian city of Rochester.

But it is what happens in and around those intentions that powers her story, and the sense that Dickens himself is overlooking and, in some way, approving of her activities adds a wry humor that is as captivating as it is arousing.

So we shift from the bedroom to the riverbank, from the top of an historic monument to the floor of a restaurant restroom (and let’s not forget the photographer’s studio at the end), and every encounter is presented with a vividness that is almost cinematic in delivery and execution.

It would be easy for this catalog of carnality to slip into either crudity or, even worse, repetition. But author Bentley, a veteran short story writer stepping into the longer form for the first time, maneuvers effortlessly around such pitfalls, both via the fluidity of her writing and the strength of her characterizations.

With only a few lines of description, her partners leap fully formed from the page, while their activities are detailed with both experienced expertise and the thrill of discovery. Her first encounter with a naked Englishman, for example, is laugh-out-loud priceless.

With just five chapters, What I Did On My Summer Vacation is as powerful, and certainly as incident-packed, as many books twice, three times its length. It certainly confirms Bentley’s place among today’s most exquisitely (and explicitly!) readable erotic authors, and leaves one yearning for her to turn her hand to a novel-length work.

TCM REVIEWS

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION

Chrissie is a woman who is taking a summer working vacation to England.
She meets Melissa and Martin, with a few other people along the way. She is thrilled to finally get to see the places her favorite author wrote about.

Melissa works in the same office as Chrissie and is happy to finally have some off. She helps her find her way to the hotel and around town. When a night out includes them getting to know one another. Martin is a local hard working man who gives Chrissie a tour of the small scenic village she visits briefly and gives her special privileges.

Chrissie has a great time enjoying herself in Europe, not only does she get to see places she dreamed about visiting, she gets to have some fun with Melissa and Martin, what a great vacation this turned out to be. Only one problem, How to write her report on what she did on her summer vacation!

What I Did On My Summer Vacation is a wonderful erotic contemporary. It is full of scenic views that make the reader feel like they are there, experiencing it for themselves. The secondary characters add to the plot backdrop and give the story depth. The book is full of adventure, and the sex sizzles. I recommend this book to anyone who likes a good erotic/contemporary story.

COFFEE TIME ROMANCE

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION

England – Present Day
When Chrissie Bentley gets the opportunity to head over to England on business, she decides to add a little pleasure to the mix with a mini-vacation between conferences. Work soon becomes the least of her interests though when there are so many other sights and people to enjoy. What did Chrissie do on her summer vacation? Or better yet, who did she do?

An irreverent account of an erotic vacation, WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION is a charming throwback to the first school assignments of our youth, with a decidedly adult flavor. Chrissie is an adventurous woman willing to try anything at least once. Check this out and see for yourself how her vacation went.
RRT REVIEWS

UNGEZOGEN (MISBEHAVIOUR)

2011-04-04T12:05:00.001-07:00

UNGEZOGEN (GERMAN LANGUAGE EDITION OF "MISBEHAVIOUR")
Taschenbuch: 304 Seiten
Verlag: Bastei Lübbe; Auflage: 1. (25. September 2010)
Sprache: Deutsch
ISBN-10: 3404164962
ISBN-13: 978-3404164967

includes FRAUENGESPRACHE (Girls Talk) by Chrissie Bentley

Produktbeschreibungen
Kurzbeschreibung
Ob ein paar sinnliche Stunden unter freiem Himmel oder ein paar gehetzte Minuten im Hauseingang ═ es gibt viele Möglichkeiten, seine geheimsten Phantasien auszuleben ...Prickelnde Storys von Meisterinnen ihres Fachs.

Über den Autor
Jule Winter, geboren 1979, arbeitete nach dem Abitur mehrere Jahre als Buchhändlerin und studierte dann einige Semester Geschichte, bevor sie sich als Übersetzerin und Autorin selbständig machte. Sie arbeitet u. a. für Mira und Lübbe. Jule Winter lebt in Düsseldorf

INTERVIEW (Eroticstories.com, Aug 2007)

2011-04-04T11:57:00.000-07:00

This interview was first published at EroticStories.com in August 2007. Thanks to Shuggie for the questions.

Question: First tell us something about yourself, like name, age, and some other things we would like to know about you…Let’s call it a short bio.

Miranda: My name’s Chrissie Bentley, I’m single, in my late 30s and I live an hour or so outside of Philly. I work in publishing, although it’s very straight, very mainstream – the bosses would probably have aneurysms if they knew I also write erotica in my spare time (although that’s probably because I don’t think we’re meant to have spare time). I also do a lot of freelance consultant-type work, either helping other authors polish their manuscripts, or assisting them with research. Most recently, I was working with Dave Thompson, who’s a fairly well-known music writer, on his latest book, a history of early porn movies called “Black and White and Blue” – and that should be in the stores by the time you read this.

Question: What are you wearing right now?

Miranda: Knowing this question was coming, I decided to strip down to my underwear and turn off the air conditioning. So, a pair of panties and a thick sheen of sweat.

Question: What do you like the most about writing erotic stories?

Miranda: Two things. Initially, it was the sheer thrill of weaving a story around events and experiences that, even among friends, I couldn’t really go into detail about. You can talk about a lot of things around the water cooler at work, but the taste of cock isn’t one of them. Not where I work, anyway. And the other thing is, the inter-action with other writers and readers, which is something else you rarely experience in the “real” world.

Question: Does your spouse or significant other know you write, and if so, what does he/she think?

Miranda: I tend not to tell too many people about it, as I rather enjoy having a “secret life.” But my current boyfriend knows, and he’s fine with it so long as I promise not to write any of our adventures into my stories.

Question: Is it difficult for you to keep your writing life separate from your professional life?

Miranda: The company I work for publishes a lot of biographies and historical works, so if you’re asking whether I’ve ever accidentally inserted a long and yearning description of cunnilingus into a book about the Civil War, no I haven’t. I’m lucky, I work with words at the office, and I play with them at home, so I’m able to keep them very separate.

Question: How did you come up with your ES nickname?

Miranda: Some friends and I used to get together to watch “Sex And The City,” and someone said I looked like Cynthia Nixon’s character, Miranda. And “Naughty Miranda” is the title of one of my all-time favorite records, by an English band called Indians In Moscow. So it’s a bit of both.

Question: What brought you to EroticStories.com? What made you want to stay and become a part of it?

Miranda: An ex-boyfriend introduced me, he’d posted a couple of stories that received a really good response from readers and, initially, he just wanted to share that. Then, when I started writing, it was the same thing, the thrill of the instant feedback from readers, signing on the day after you post a new story to find your mailbox bulging. I love that, because it lets you know… not that people are reading, because you sort of assume that. But that people care enough to actually write you and say so.

Question: What is your favorite part of your body? Why?

Miranda: My eyes, because sight really is the most under-rated of all the erotic senses. Plus, I’m a confirmed voyeur. I love watching erotic films… the older the better, hence my involvement in “Black and White and Blue.” And that’s probably why I don’t especially enjoy threesomes, I’d much rather just watch the other couple go at it.

Question: If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be and why?

Miranda: My inability to adhere to any kind of keep fit routine. I’ve spent a small fortune on fitness machines and exercise clothes, and I still expend more energy looking for my cigarettes.

Question: Boxers v Briefs? / Panties v Thong?

Miranda: Panties every time.

Question: How long have you been writing now? How did it all get started and what made you write your first story?

Miranda: The first erotic stories I published were about five years ago. The ex-boyfriend planted the seed, and my first couple of stories were very much based around the happier moments of that relationship, with the twist of, I wrote them from the guy’s perspective, rather than my own. Then I stopped for a while, because I kept running into that brick wall of wanting to describe certain things that my male persona simply wouldn’t understand… the first sight of a lover’s cock, the first time you put him in your mouth, stuff that only a girl (or, I suppose, a gay guy) could really go into detail about. Which is when I threw away everything I’d written before, and started again from my own point of view.

Question: The majority of your stories appear in the Oral Sex category. Is this a true reflection of your own sexual tastes, or does it just work out like that?

Miranda: It’s me. From the moment I first heard about it, which was long before I ever got the chance to try, probably 75% of my sexual urges have been devoted to getting a guy’s pants down and his cock in my mouth. So that’s the direction that my stories tend to take. Why? Psychologically, I think fellatio is the most intimate act there is, because it’s the one that demands the most trust – he trusts you not to bite it off, you trust him not to choke you with it. And it looks good, as well. You catch your reflection in the mirror, or see yourself in a photo (which has happened a couple of times), and it can be even more exciting than the act itself.

Question: Which story is your personal favourite, the one you enjoyed writing the most, and/or the one holds the best memories or feelings for you?

Miranda: I’ve always wished that it was possible to feel nostalgic at the time something’s happening, rather than have to wait a few years for the warm and fuzzy feelings to arrive. So my favorite story ideas are probably those where I go back to college days, first boyfriends, first experiences, and relive them – “And How Far Should We Go,” “Cousin Tom’s First Blowjob,” stories like that.

Question: Have you ever gotten so turned on while writing that you had to stop to masturbate? What story was it?

Miranda: “Old Times.” It’s the least-read story I have on the ES site, and it’s probably the most unconventional as well, what with the ghosties and ghoulies and all that. But I got SO turned on writing that one, particularly the scene towards the end when the voices are coming out of nowhere, and the two girls are fucking, and echoing them back. I finished that story and I was just drenched.

Question: Do you write from fantasy or true stories or a combination of both? Please explain or give an example.

Miranda: Early on, I tended towards true stories, with fantasy to iron out the rough spots. “Learning To Live With It” is almost completely true – this guy I was going with had a positively massive cock, and I really didn’t know what to do with it. Now it’s more of a combination. The sex is generally written from experience (or, at least, some very stubborn fantasies), but the settings and the characters are more likely invented. I don’t have a Cousin Tom, for example, and no matter how hard I push the virtues of not smoking in “There’s A Cure For Almost Everything” I have no intention whatsoever of quitting.

Question: What parts of “Yourself” do you put into your characters?

Miranda: Because I usually write in the first person, there’s a lot of “me” in there, the most obvious being my sexual tastes and, I hope, my sense of humor.

Question: If there was one trait you could take from one of your characters in your stories, and put it in place in your real life, what would it be and why?

Miranda: The Chrissies in my stories are a lot more forthright than I am. I tend to be very shy, not only with people I don’t know, but also with people I do. So, I’d like her confidence.

Question: How long does it take for you to write a complete story? How does the process go?

Miranda: Not very long. As long as I’m left alone no phone calls, no visitors, no interruptions, I usually complete a story in one sitting, certainly in one evening.

Question: How do you come up with your story titles?

Miranda: As quickly as possible. Quite often, I’ll have the title first… the Cousin Tom stories and the Chronicles were like that. Then I’ll just try and work out what fits.

Question: What is the hardest part of writing a story?

Miranda: Trying not to repeat myself. I’m very aware of the fact that there are people who’ve read a lot, if not all, of my stories, and it doesn’t matter how many of them there are, I’d hate to give them the same thing twice. I know that’s not always possible , because there’s only so many things you can do with your body, or somebody else’s, come to that. But a story I wrote a few years ago, called “How Many Times Is The First Time,” makes the point that every time you sleep with somebody, it’s a different experience. So, every time you write about sleeping with somebody, that should be different as well.

Question: Have you ever done research for a part of a story you didn’t have any knowledge about or maybe for a sex scene?

Miranda: It depends. “Old Times” required a lot of digging around through old books and directories, trying to get a flavour of this one particular corner of London, and there’s a lot more of that particular story to come – it’s actually the first chapter of a novel (“Below Blue London”), which will be published by Mojocastle later this year, and each chapter is set in a different period, going back to Elizabethan times. So that demanded a lot of library time. For a sex scene? Not as such, although I will occasionally read something, or see something in a movie, and think I’d like to use it in a story – research in reverse, I call it.

Question: Do you have any secret stories you don’t want to publish for the public? Do you publish your stories on other sites besides EroticStories.com and if so, why?

Miranda: Secret stories, no. But I have published elsewhere – there’s the novels, of course; “What I Did On My Summer Vacation,” “Below Blue London,” and another which is the “true confessions” of a TV starlet, called – surprise surprise – “Naughty Miranda.” And then there’s “Miss America,” another novel, which is probably the most extreme thing I have ever written, or ever will write. I originally intended posting it on ES, but I queried some of the subject matter with Art, and he was very dubious, I think it broke every rule there is apart from the incest and bestiality ones. People who’ve read it, friends for the most part, either really loved it, or really, really hated it, and the handful of publishers whom I sent it to all agreed with Art, that it as just over-the-top for them to handle. But, you’ll be pleased to hear, it did finally find a home with Ruthie’s Club, and you can read it there. If you dare.

Question: Why did you write something so extreme?

Miranda: To find out if I could, basically. To be honest, I think I’m fairly conservative in bed, I don’t go for the wild and kinky stuff, and I’ve never really wanted to. But then you wonder, well what would happen if you didn’t have a choice in the matter – the rape fantasy to the zillionth degree. And I kept pushing from there. There are several passages where even I felt I’d gone too far, but I left them because that was the point, to test every sexual boundary I have, while trying to retain the essential “me” of the character. I think it worked as well. Throughout everything, the main character, the “me,” retains her dignity, her independence and her humor. It’s not a “Story Of O”, poor little submissive thing at all, it’s more a tale of empowerment and strength and, about halfway through, you start seeing these amazing lights at the end of what had otherwise been a very dark tunnel.

Question: Do your other novels go as far?

Miranda: No, and that’s partly because I’ve done it once and don’t feel the need to repeat the experience, but also because, for all the freedoms we now have in terms of what we can and cannot write… remember, it’s not so long ago that a forum like ES could not even have existed!… erotic literature remains a very conservative field, compared to what can be shown in adult movies. Some of it, I know, is down to individual publishers’ own tastes, and I understand why the rules and the safeguards are in place. Plus, I’d hate it if every writer felt that they had to go that little bit further than the last one, which is what is happening in movies these days. At the same time, though, if a “forbidden” subject can be treated tastefully, then let it out there. The market will determine what it can and cannot deal with.

Question: Are there are any rules in particular that you think should be struck down?

Miranda: The “nothing under 18” law. Now, we all know why it’s in place, and nobody can argue with that. At the same time, though, the age of sexual consent is 16 in the majority of states… 17 and 18 are very much the minority. The same across Europe. So we have a situation where a 16 year old can go out and fuck their brains out every night, but they’re not allowed to write a story about it. Or take “Lolita,” which is one of the classics of erotic literature. It’s probably available in your local public library, but it couldn’t be published on any reputable erotic website. And so on. Again, I understand why the law is there, but couldn’t it at least be bent to conform with reality?

Question: Have you ever been published on paper?

Miranda: I’ve had a few stories published in magazines, I’m in the upcoming “Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica,” and I wrote the introduction to “Black and White and Blue” – although they edited out a lot of the sex first!

Question: If a movie was ever made of one of your stories, which story would you want it to be, and who would play the lead characters?

Miranda: “Miss America” would make a killer movie! And I can see the Chronicles on screen as well, set up like “The Joy Luck Club,” with everyone sitting around the telling their stories, which then become movies within the movie. As for who’d play the lead character… Cynthia Nixon would be the obvious choice, although I expect she’d say no. But I read somewhere that Marilyn Monroe’s favorite sexual act was fellatio, so maybe we could reincarnate her for the part?

Question: When you receive negative comments do you just ignore them, build from them, or let it put a negative image over the story itself, and let it hinder your writing?

Miranda: I pay attention if they’re worthwhile, and if the writer actually makes a point that’s valid. A lot of the time, I think, people aren’t so much commenting on the story… the way it’s written, the plotting, the characters… as on the fact that they were hoping for something else; they’re saying more about their own needs than a story’s failings. As an example, reading a story in the Oral Sex category and then complaining that there wasn’t enough anal in there. Or that there was too much oral sex. And there’s always the people who think that the story gets in the way of the sex, and that you should cut straight to the “central issue.” How can you respond to that?

Question: Do you also enjoy reading erotic stories? Which categories do you enjoy the most? Do you like true stories or fantasies?

Miranda: I adore Victorian and Edwardian erotica, so I read a lot of that. The language is so beautiful. There’s a dozen or so ES writers who I read whenever they post, and I always check out the Oral Sex category, because I’m fascinated by other people’s perspective and impressions on the subject. Especially other women. It’s like comparing notes after class. I just wish more people posted in there. We’re lucky if we get three or four new stories a month!

True stories or fantasies? As long as it’s believable, captivating and hot, it doesn’t really make a difference.

Question: Do you vote on other author’s stories? How do you decide what score to give when you do?

Miranda: I won’t vote if I think a story is lower than a 7 or 8… it just seems mean. The best stories for me are those where it feels as though the writer is actually speaking, where you can feel their passion and excitement, in which case I’ll suspend all critical faculties and just concentrate on their voice. There’s a couple of relatively new writers whose stuff I love… Neetu and Robin. You look at their votes, and read-through percentages and they’re barely average, but when you actually read the stories, they’re amazing. Just pure undiluted passion.

Question: Do you send other author’s comments or feedback on their stories?

Miranda: If a story really grabs me and, again, they tend to be in the Oral section (or at least have a good oral sequence), I’ll usually drop the author a quick line, just to say thank you.

Question: Do you have a favourite author on ES? What makes them your favourite?

Miranda: I’ve mentioned Neetu and Robin. Darkstar UK has a great sense of humour, which is a lot more important in erotic stories than many people realize. I like Sally as well… most of the stories I read are by other women, I think because they are more likely to dwell on the sensory experience, whereas men generally go for the sheer physicality. There again, one of the most arousing things I’ve read recently was a letter from a reader, telling me about the first blowjob he ever received, 30-odd years ago. It wasn’t especially detailed or explicit, but the imagery was amazing.

Question: When you read a story do you: A. Touch yourself and come around the same time one of the characters do? B. Touch yourself but wait for the end to come? C. Touch yourself but wait until after you finish the story to come, such as after going to bed? D. Not touch yourself until you are finished and then continue thinking about the story and come? E. Any other variation you may do? (Please tell us what it is)

Miranda: None of them really, although I’ve done E occasionally – which is, try and recreate the story with somebody else, but without telling them where the idea came from.

Question: Do you enjoy the visual side of erotica, as in porn movies or pictures? If so, do you have any favourites?

Miranda: Again, I really enjoy the vintage stuff – Victorian photographs, old black and white stag movies. I like the mystery, the intrigue, watching people’s faces as they do things, or get ready to do things, trying to gauge their reactions. Modern movies and photographs are too choreographed, too “acted out”; the older stuff has a reality that makes it so much more exciting.

Question: Do you remember the first pornography you ever saw? Tell us about it?

Miranda: The first thing I remember seeing was a movie called “The Sexorcists,” which was made on a very low budget in the mid 70s sometime, and it shows! But you’ve got Lily Lamarr sucking every cock she can get her hands on, dribbling and drooling away, and she’s loving every minute of it. I was still in my teens when I saw it, but I sat there and it was my every wet dream come true. I was so happy when it came out on DVD a few years ago!

Question: Have you ever participated in erotic photography? If so, please tell us about it. If not, would you rather be the photographed or the photographer?

Miranda: Yes, and I’ve written about it! I was on vacation in the UK, and met up with this photographer; the story’s called “Greater Expectations” – it’s actually a self-contained excerpt from “What I Did On My Summer Vacation” – but it tells about the photos he took of me, a few of which I’ve used on my ES profile. Although probably not the ones you’d most like to see!

Question: What do you wear to bed?

Miranda: I’m writing this in early August, so the answer is nothing. It’s too hot. Sweat.

Question: Do your sex life and writing have any correlation with each other??

Miranda: I think I’ve answered that!

Question: How would you rate your willingness to try new things in bed?

Miranda: Probably 50-50…. It used to be higher, but a lot of guys I’ve met over the last few years seem to get all their ideas from modern porn films, and they’re not especially good ones to begin with. I’m not going to give examples, because it’ll just sound disgusting (and besides, maybe some people really do enjoy this stuff), but there’s a time and place for Xtreme sports, and the bedroom isn’t it.

Question: What’s the kinkiest thing you have done in your life?

Miranda: It depends what you mean by that. I mean, I’ve had guys call me kinky because I’d rather suck them than fuck them, and because I swallow… and it was a long time before I figured that one out, that a lot of girls won’t do it. I mean, what else are you supposed to do with the stuff? But to me, “kinky” means really going out on a limb, with gas masks and whips and stuff, the “Miss America” routine, and I’ve never had any interest in any of that.

Question: Do you have any fantasies that you would like to fulfill?

Miranda: Yes, but nothing can ruin a relationship faster than telling your lover something you’d like them to do, and have them go “oh, yuk.” So I keep them strictly to myself, and just keep hoping.

Question: What do you think about solo sex?

Miranda: I don’t especially enjoy it. I mean, it’s necessary occasionally, especially if you’re trying to sleep, but have odd thoughts buzzing around your brain. But I’d much rather wait until there’s someone else in the room.

Question: What are your favourite; and least favourite positions?

Miranda: Favourite – flat on my back with my mouth full! And least favourite – anything involving pain or the ass.

Question: Do you believe in one night stands?

Miranda: Fervently.

Question: What makes someone sexy to you?

Miranda: Someone who looks great, but who doesn’t behave like they know it… I think Drew Barrymore is incredibly sexy, I’d love to have her bearing. Hugh Grant in “Love Actually.” David Tennant – that’s the Dr Who guy right? Good looks, sense of humor, modesty, an intriguing accent… all the usual stuff, but there’s no one thing you could actually put your finger on.

Question: What is a major turn on for you during sex?

Miranda: I like shyness, uncertainty… when you know that he wants to do something, but he isn’t certain how you’ll react. And the look on his face the first time you have him come in your mouth. That, as they say in the movies, is the real money shot.

Question: What is a major turn off for you during sex?

Miranda: Violence, pain…. I don’t like guys who think it’s okay to call you names, or who bark out orders, as though you’re only there to service them. And I can’t stand that arrogant “oh baby, I bet you can’t wait to touch my dick” attitude that some guys have. That’s when you want to whip out the magnifying glass and tell them, “well, I would if I could see it.”

Question: Sex-talk. Do you like or dislike talking during sex?

Miranda: I can take it or leave it. But definitely in small doses.

Question: In bed or on the kitchen table?

Miranda: On the stairs and in the shower!

Question: What is your favourite or most memorable moment in bed?

Miranda: Probably… no, definitely… the first time I finally put a cock in my mouth. I mean, what would I write about if I’d hated it?

Question: Do you notice any differences between the “younger” writers on here, and between the “older writers” of this site?

Miranda: Not really. If you have a good story to tell, it doesn’t matter whether you’ve been writing for decades, or have only just picked up a pen. It’s a difficult question, though, because those writers who’ve been around a while, and I include myself in this, maybe have to work a little harder to keep things fresh, for ourselves and for the readers – I mean, really, how far can you go with the same old “boy meets girl, girl sucks boy, boy floods girl” scenario, before it starts to get tired? New writers haven’t reached that place yet. For them, the very act of writing an erotic story is as novel as the first time they had sex itself, so there’s an enthusiasm and an excitement, and maybe a little uncertainty as well, that us weary veterans have forgotten about. Some of my favorite stories are the real first timers, where everything just floods out in one long paragraph, where the spelling and the grammar are all over the place, and everyone ends up with far too many arms and legs. It’s as if the writer just wanted to get the story down, and submitted, before they could change their minds about doing it. They can be a bitch to read, but you can’t deny the excitement.

Question: You are #11 on the “Top 100 favourite authors” list. How does it feel to know you have 250 people that have favorited you?

Miranda: Incredible! And I’m very grateful. There are so many writers on the site, and so many great storytellers, it’s wonderful to know that so many people consider me to be one of them.

Question: Is there anything else you would like to say to the readers of this interview and your fans? Now is your chance…

Miranda: Well, aside from “thank you” and “keep reading,” the main thing would be “keep writing to me.” I know I can be slow in responding sometimes, but some of my best e-friends are people I’ve “met” through ES, and some of the best e-mail conversations I’ve had, as well. You’re a great bunch of people!

MISBEHAVIOUR

2011-04-04T11:56:00.000-07:00

MISBEHAVIOUR (BLACK LACE)
Paperback: 256 pages
Publisher: Virgin Black Lace (April 22, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 9780352345189
ISBN-13: 978-0352345189

includes GIRLS TALK by Chrissie Bentley

Excerpt

I guess I just wasn’t thinking straight.

I was so excited when he started to come, and the thin milky liquid gently seeped across his helmet, that I was already leaning forward, my tongue tip poised to taste him, completely forgetting there was more to come.

Spurt! Instinctively I flinched back.

Splash! A thick streamer lashed itself to my cheek. It was on my nose, it was on my lips, it was in my hair, and it was still pumping. Above me, Dave was groaning his ecstasy, and… I don’t know what I was feeling. A rush of excitement like I’d never experienced before. A sense of lust that I could not control. And a depth of hunger that only one thing could satisfy. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and clamped down on the end of his cock, feeling the spurting start over again as his hands closed around the back of my head, and he raised his hips to meet my face, moving himself inside me, fucking my lips and flooding my mouth.

I’d done it. After so many years of dreaming of this moment, after all those nights spent caressing myself to sleep while my mind conjured hot, hard cocks for me to devour, I had finally sucked and swallowed… yes, mustn’t forget to swallow it all… a man. And I loved it.

It was strange. Listening to my girlfriends talk, I really wasn’t sure what to expect. It’s slimy, they’d warn. It’s sticky, they’d shudder. And it tastes of salt and old cheese. Maybe it is, maybe it does. I’m sure there are times when it really isn’t pleasant. Like, if he hasn’t bathed in a while, or he’s sweating a lot, or if you simply aren’t in the mood, but decide to do it anyway. But right here, right now, with my pussy screaming so loudly for attention that the juices were trickling down my leg, with one hand massaging my own breast while the other held his cock upright, and every other fiber of my being focused firmly on drawing as much of his magic as I could milk from his balls… fuck going for a slap-up feast at the ritziest restaurant in town. I could dine like this forever.

Dave was softening now, but I continued to suck. In fact, I was sucking harder now. As his thickness ebbed away and my jaw finally relaxed, now I could really go to town. I pulled him in deep, felt my nose brush his stomach; liked the way it felt and drew him in even deeper, enfolding his entire prick in my mouth while he just lay there gasping, his hands idly stroking my hair while I ground my face into his stomach and my mouth still clung onto its prize. And that felt good as well. Next time, I resolved, I would do it while he was still hard. I didn’t know how my mouth would accommodate his whole length, but now was not the time to worry. Details. I was going to deep throat this boy, even if it meant drilling a hole in the back of my head.

I sat up, looked him in the eye. Dave was still lying there, exhausted, his body a liquid pool of putty. I kissed him on the mouth, wondered if he could taste himself all over my lips, and what he was thinking as he did. I soon found out.

Review
As ever with Black Lace titles, the quality of writing is superb, and there's something to surprise even the kinkiest of readers Scarlet Sizzling ... the most sexually explicit reading material available Cosmopolitan There's enough variety to please erotica fans of every taste ... titillating entertainment Romantic Times

Product Description
The creators of the bestselling Wicked Words and Quickies collections bring you Misbehaviour.
Leyda is short of cash but an indecent proposal could solve her problems... Mr Morrell is hotter than hell and he proves it in the stationary cupboard... When it comes to weddings it's best not to seduce the bridegroom... Lisa likes to meet married men, in groups... In this new collection of all original fiction, Black Lace proves there is nothing as exciting as a woman up to no good. And these red hot tales and passionate trysts will be sure to push your buttons. Be it at work, on the phone, in a hotel, on a highway with an officer of the law, in an alley, in a library, or just over at a friend's place, Misbehaviour explores a wide range of illicit and daring encounters between feisty modern women and their lovers.

COFFEE TIME ROMANCE REVIEW
Like all girlfriends it is common to talk about your guy and your love life, but Chrissie is having decidedly un-girlfriend feelings for her friend.

The writer of the erotic, Jenny, takes it upon herself to plan a surprise for their mutual friend Martha.

They discuss using Chrissie’s boyfriend for the Martha experiment, but when he comes down with a nasty cold, Jenny finds them a replacement. Since Chrissie has no desire to cheat on her boyfriend with another man, she is thrilled to finally get to experiment somewhere else.

A little naughty and a whole ton of fun is the basis behind this sexy little story.

BLACK AND WHITE AND BLUE

2011-04-04T11:48:00.000-07:00

BLACK AND WHITE AND BLUE - ADULT CINEMA FROM THE VICTORIAN AGE TO THE VCR by Dave Thompson
Paperback: 350 pages
Publisher: Ecw Press (September 1, 2007)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1550227912
ISBN-13: 978-1550227918

includes introductory essay by Chrissie Bentley

Editorial Reviews
Review
"If you have any kind of rock'n'roll reference library, chances are you own at least one book by Dave Thompson" —Paper magazine

"Thompson tells the story behind milestones in the genre's history . . . cultural historians will delight in Thompson's tale." —Playboy.com

"Definitely enlightening, and entertaining." —The A.V. Club

"The book is effective and moving." —Alarm

"A comprehensive historical view of adult cinema." —The Hornet

"In a series of chronological chapters, [Thompson] takes a scholarly look at an industry for which there is little mainstream archive or history." —Rambles.net

Product Description
In the 1920s they were called stags, smokes, or blue movies; today it's adult films. But until now, apart from brief summaries in film histories and scholarly articles, there has been no complete history of the pornographic film industry. That gap is filled by this lively and insightful book that provides commentary on individual movies and traces the evolution of film styles and storylines through nearly a century of X-rated material. All the research for the book is based on viewings of the movies—many of the oldest are now archived on DVDs—and on interviews with living actors and producers. Tracing an arc from the masks and dim lighting of the earliest days to the realism and absence of trick photography in the 1920s and 1930s, the account then ponders the obsession with close-ups of body parts in later decades. The overview ends in the late 1970s, when the advent of home videos changed adult entertainment completely.

About the Author
Dave Thompson is the author of more than 100 books, including Cream: The World's First Supergroup, Go Phish, Moonage Daydream, Never Fade Away, and Smoke on the Water. In 1998, he was ranked one of rock's five foremost authors in Mojo magazine. He lives in London and Delaware.

PLAYBOY REVIEW
Thirty-five years after its taboo-busting release, 1972′s Deep Throat is still the most iconic symbol of the adult film world. The movie raked in an unprecedented $25 million in theaters (unrivaled to this day for a pornographic film). It introduced fellatio into popular culture (paving the way for Bill and Monica). Perhaps most trenchant, it ushered in the modern age of porn cinema. Make no mistake, the present day, silicone-jiggly, multi-billion dollar porn industry owes much to director Gerald Damino’s erotic breakthrough. In many ways, Deep Throat was the beginning of porn as we know it.

Interesting, then, that author Dave Thompson opts to end his latest book, Black and White and Blue: Adult Cinema from the Victorian Age to the VCR, with the release of Deep Throat. Thompson tells the tale of what led up to the modern age of erotic cinema, surveying the fascinating, dark, backroom cultural history of stag films before the arrival of Linda Lovelace and Harry Reems. Black and White and Blue traces the earliest pornographic movies — grainy, silent, hardcore, contraband productions dating all the way back to the early 1900s. Thompson estimates that 1,500 to 1,700 American stag films (hardcore porn made before the late 1960s) still exist. It is likely, he posits, that a vast number of films either vanished due to the decay of time or were destroyed by the morality police. “It is only in recent years that society has become concerned with preserving every possible facet of its entertainment past,” writes Thompson. “No matter how worthless or sordid it may once have seemed.”

Thompson goes a long way in contributing to the cultural study of dirty movies. With a pedigree in rock music books (U2, David Bowie, Deep Purple), his latest, while ostensibly a scholarly dissertation on the history of stag films, is written with a certain punk aplomb. Black and White and Blue shines when Thompson tracks down and interviews the little old ladies who starred in the pictures of porn past and when he tells the story behind milestones in the genre’s history, such as the dubious achievement of the first golden shower captured on celluloid. While Black and White and Blue is not quite mainstream pop culture fare, neither is the subject it covers. Still, cultural historians will delight in Thompson’s tale, and hardcore porn purists will finally learn what set the stage for Deep Throat.

THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF LESBIAN EROTICA

2011-04-04T11:39:00.000-07:00

THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF LESBIAN EROTICA
Paperback: 576 pages
Publisher: Running Press (September 7, 2007)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0786720441
ASIN: B003A02S9S

Includes "Gone Fishing" by Chrissie Bentley

EXCERPT
She was everything he’d described in her e-mails… mid-40s, good-looking, well-rounded, tall. Her voice was soft, as though every word was a precious commodity to be drawn out of her with the most exquisite tenderness… and that is how she fucked me (yes, that was everything she said it was, as well); calmly and deliberately, her face and her fingertips flowing across my body, everywhere at once and one place in particular, testing and teasing my flesh before settling down to one spot for a moment and then, tantalizingly, flying away to caress some place else.

Now I was crouching over her, my breasts just inches from her mouth. Sheelagh reached up, squeezed and then pinched each nipple, not hard, but just enough. Her tongue darted out and brushed them. I know what I was thinking, but I think I murmured it too, because she was sucking at it now, my nipple and a sizeable portion of my tit sinking into her mouth.

I held her to me, willing her to draw even more of me in, feeling her hands shift to my back and then down to my ass, stroking and squeezing my cheeks as a finger traced lightly between them. I felt the first stirrings of a distant orgasm, as she released my nipple from between her lips and we hung unmoving for a moment, as I wondered what next.

Sheelagh decided, grasping my hips and hauling me up, my pussy firm to her face. But I wasn’t going to let her have all the fun. Deftly I flipped, parted her legs and gazed down at her slit. She’d shaved and I wished I had – although she didn’t seem to care, as gentle fingers parted my lips and a tongue traced slowly up and down before nudging my clitoris for the first time, an electric shock that shook my entire frame.

I tried to concentrate on what lay before me, the sweet pink slit, the swollen clit that peeked out at me. But it was impossible. Her tongue was dancing between my legs and my body was completely out of my control. Her breathing was hard, her movements insistent and her rhythm was unchanging, even as I bucked my own hips, urging her to pick up the pace, bring me to the orgasm that was shuddering just on the other side of bunker-busting.

“Faster,” I hissed, and she raised her head. “Not yet. You’ve teased me with your stories for months. Now it’s my turn.” And she shortened her strokes, her hands pushing down on my hips until I could barely move them, but increasing the warm pressure of her tongue, so that every breath I took had a sharp, audible edge of pleasure; an edge that only heightened her determination to keep me dangling – which she did. I had never known anybody to be so painstaking, so patient, so totally in control of her own body that, even with a hellcat screaming seven shades of lust beneath her, she simply stretched the ecstasy out even further.

Finally I came… there wasn’t a power on earth that could have stopped me; and, as I writhed in the uncontrollable spasms of my own joy, I felt Sheelagh, too, pause… plunge… and then cry out as her lust blew up inside her.

We lay silent, shattered, sticky with sweat, and I think we must have slept. It looked darker when I opened my eyes, and Sheelagh now lay dead weight across me. I squirmed out from beneath her and crept to the bathroom. She hadn’t moved when I returned and, for a moment, I stood there, wondering what to do… which of the two or three thoughts that were now racing through my mind I should act on first? But before I could move, she opened her eyes and smiled. “We really need to make a move. I have that reception this evening, remember? You will come along, won’t you?”

“Why not?” I threw on the clothes I’d arrived in, then headed back to my own room to shower and change. Half an hour later, she was guiding her hired car around the snaking bends that led towards the ocean, and the row of exclusive waterfront homes that were dotted along the coastline. “Dinner,” she promised me, “alcohol, some tremendous people – you’ll love Debbie and Mandy… and then, your choice. I can call you a cab back to the hotel… or else, we fish.” I laughed. “I’ll let you know.”

Amazon.com Review
For readers devoted (or addicted) to erotic fiction, here is a welcome British twist on the genre. Though an uneven collection, The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica is nevertheless large enough to contain some real gems from writers around the world. The strongest work comes from the British contributors, such as Emma Donoghue and Stella Duffy, among others. "Sweet Violet," by Ruby Vise, is a classic tale of first love. In Mary Gerideau's "Marvin the Mouse," on the other hand, a stifling mouse suit is the scene of a literally steamy encounter. Be warned, though: several of the pieces are protoerotic rather than the graphic fare readers have become accustomed to. Nina Rapi's "Josie's Restrooms" purports to be the transcript of a toilet attendant's video diary, with a lot of bragging and a bawdy business plan but no real sex scene. And the two-part story that brackets the collection, Daphne Adams's "I Married Madam," reads like the opening pages of an Edwardian novel: promising characters, interesting settings, lively dialogue, but precious little action. Happily, however, there's also a lot of humor in the collection, and even some slapstick, as when the heroine of Karlyn Lotney's "Clash of the Titans" accidentally grabs a bottle of sex-toy cleaner instead of lube and watches in horror as bubbles pour out of her demanding new lover. New meaning for a romantic "bit of the bubbly." --Regina Marler --

Product Description
This all-new volume of lesbian erotica brings together a dazzling selection of new fiction from around the world. Here are 50 short stories from a still-growing genre, most of which have been specially commissioned. The writing covers the emotional spectrum, from intimate reminiscences and intensely personal experiences, to wild confessions and magical encounters. Contributors include Chrissie Bentley, Fae Gordon, Lindy Edwards, L. S. Bell, J. Barfoot, Vav Garnek, Georgina Taylor, Anna Smith, Deva Shore, Cynthia Richards, Elsbeth Potter, L. C. Jordan, and Elizabeth Cage.

About the Author
Barbara Cardy is an experienced editor of erotica, and also publishes the bi-monthly erotica collection The Hot Spot. She lives in Brighton, UK.

INTERVIEW (Eroticstories.com, Feb 2007)

2011-04-04T11:33:00.000-07:00

This interview was first published at Eroticstories.com in February 2007. Thanks to PLeasureKitten for the questions.

Question: First tell us something about yourself, like name, age, and some other things we would like to know about you…Let’s call it a short bio.

Naughty Miranda: Okay, my name’s Chrissie, I’m single, in my late 30s and I live an hour or so outside of Philly. I work in publishing, but I also do a lot of freelance consultant-type work. My most recent project was a history of stag movies, that’s coming out next spring… and I received a lot of help on the subject from ES readers, after I mentioned it at the end of one of my stories, so thanks again to everyone.

Question: What are you wearing right now?

Naughty Miranda: I knew this question was coming, and I really did intend dressing for the part. Unfortunately I never got round to it, so it’s an old blouse and a pair of khaki shorts. And bare feet.

Question: Does your spouse or significant other know you write, and if so, what does he/she think?

Naughty Miranda: Being single, that’s not really an issue. I have mentioned it to the occasional past boyfriend, but only once I know they’re not going to freak out about it… start insisting I write them into a story, for instance, or complain because “you’ve never done that with me.” I’ve had both reactions in the past.

Question: Is it difficult for you to keep your writing life separate from your professional life?

Naughty Miranda: Yes and no. I tend to be less involved with the editorial side of things at work than I used to, so writing for me is very much a hobby. Plus, I don’t think my bosses would ever consider publishing erotica, no matter whom it was written by.

Question: How did you come up with your ES nickname?

Naughty Miranda: Some friends and I used to get together to watch “Sex And The City,” and someone decided I looked like Cynthia Nixon’s character, Miranda. And “Naughty Miranda” is the title of one of my all-time favorite records, by an English band called Indians In Moscow. So it’s a bit of both.

Question: What brought you to EroticStories.com? What made you want to stay and become a part of it?

Naughty Miranda: A boyfriend introduced me to the site a couple of years ago. He’d posted a few stories, and what I liked… what I still like… was the way other readers are encouraged to give authors feedback. A lot of writers, and I hear this every day at work, publish their article or their book, and they go years without receiving any kind of feedback from… let’s say “real readers,” as opposed to reviewers and critics. Whereas he my boyfriend – could post a story on ES in the evening, and have half a dozen e-mails from people the following morning. I love that; it lets you know… not that people are reading, because you sort of assume that. But that people care enough to actually write you and say so.

Question: What is your favorite part of your body? Why?

Naughty Miranda: I almost said my gag reflex (or lack thereof), but I think it’s actually my eyes, because I truly believe that sight is the most under-rated of all the erotic senses. Plus, I’m a confirmed voyeur.

Question: If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be and why?

Naughty Miranda: My shyness not in sexual situations, I’m fine there. But in day-to-day life; if someone in the store tries making conversation, or a cab driver… even my hairdresser. I just dry up, can’t think of a word to say or, if I can, I can never get it out in a coherent manner. I know it’s slowed me down career-wise I can’t make presentations, I won’t give speeches, and if I ever get singled out in a crowd of people, I just curl up and die. And I’m hopeless on the telephone. So yes, that’s what I’d change.

Question: Boxers v Briefs? / Panties v Thong?

Naughty Miranda: Panties every time.

Writing Habits:

Question: What do you like the most about writing erotic stories?

Naughty Miranda: The honesty that it demands. I know there are some people who can fake it really well, put themselves into situations that they would never dream of in real life, but I can’t do that. My background and training are in non-fiction, biography, that kind of thing, and those are the instincts that I use when writing erotica. If I start making things up, writing about things that I’ve never done, or didn’t enjoy, the story just falls apart on me.

Question: How long have you been writing now? How did it all get started and what made you write your first story?

Naughty Miranda: Writing erotica, do you mean? Back in my teens. I used to be really big on horror stories, the ones with giant crabs, killer rats, the really trashy monster ones, and… okay, this was the late 1970s, early 1980s, so authors were a lot more careful about how they presented sexual situations. And that used to infuriate me there’d be page after disgustingly graphic page about how the guy at the gas station was devoured inch-by-inch by flesh-eating caterpillars, but when the hero and heroine get it on, there’d be a few lines of vague suggestion, and then back to the gore.

So I started writing my own interludes, of what I thought might have happened. It was total fantasy I was still a virgin, I’d probably not even had my first kiss when I started. But you hear things from the other girls, you pick up bits of information, and I’d string it together. One thing I remember very clearly; I didn’t know that once a guy’s come, he takes a while to recover. I thought they just kept on going until they were either too tired, or too sore to continue. Or until they were interrupted by the brain-eating butterflies. So the guys in my early stories were absolute supermen.

Question: What categories are most of your stories in? What kind would you never write?

Naughty Miranda: Most of my stories end up in the Oral Sex category because, emotionally, it’s the most intimate sexual act there is, and also the one that shows the most trust. Especially for guys. When you think about what the jaw is, and what it’s capable of… in terms of strength, it’s one of the most powerful parts of the entire body. For a guy to even consider letting his most sensitive parts anywhere near a machine like that, that demands an awful lot of trust!

Categories I wouldn’t touch definitely not Anal, I’m not into that at all. Otherwise, if a story fits one particular category, that’s where it’ll go.

Question: Which of your stories is your personal favorite, the one you enjoyed writing the most, and/or the one holds the best memories or feelings for you?

Naughty Miranda: Having said all that about my horror-sex interludes, I do like the stories that go back to a time when sex was still completely unknown territory, and all I had to base my fantasies on were what I thought something might feel like, or taste like or whatever. So “Pictures of Lily” is definitely up there, because it allowed me to relive an experience I hadn’t thought about in a long while…. I’m also very fond of “How Far Are You Going?” and “Game Set and Match.”

Question: Have you ever gotten so turned on while writing that you had to stop to masturbate? What story was it?

Naughty Miranda: Honest answer? “How Far Are You Going?” is the one I remember really got me going. Simply reliving that sensation of “wow, something’s about to happen,” and the frustration that it couldn’t all happen at once… we were on a Greyhound bus, there were people all around. So that one, definitely. And as soon as I finished writing it, I went straight into “And How Far Should We Go,” which was part-sequel, and part me not wanting to let go of that feeling of standing on the edge of something huge.

Question: Do you write from fantasy or true stories or a combination of both? Please explain or give an example.

Naughty Miranda: Like I said before, I try to keep to reality, to things that have happened to me, because that way I know what I’m talking about. I will elaborate a little, make the conversation a little more exciting than it actually was, and I’ll certainly gloss over some things, but basically, if it’s in the story, then it happened.

Question: Are the characters in your story based on real people, did you make them up, or are they a combination of both?

Naughty Miranda: They’re all real, but heavily idealized in places. I think we’ve all been out with people who, when we look back on them, it’s “what was I thinking?” And “thank goodness none of my friends saw me with them.” So I’ll try and concentrate on any good qualities they may have had; and, if I can’t think of any, I’ll graft them on from somebody else.

Question: What parts of “Yourself” do you put into your characters?

Naughty Miranda: A lot. This goes back to what we were talking about earlier; I’ve tried inventing attributes for myself, or placing myself in unfamiliar situations, and it never rings true. “Hi, my name’s Chrissie and I’m a big breasted motivational speaker. Please fuck me up the ass.” I can’t do it.

Question: If there was one trait you could take from one of your characters in your stories, and put it in place in your real life, what would it be and why?

Naughty Miranda: Funnily enough, I was thinking about this the other day. After I posted “Things To Do In New York When It’s Ninety”… quickly, it’s a story about how a workmate and I were corralled into a threesome by another girl… well, somebody wrote and said “great story, but you didn’t explain why the other girl behaved as she did.” I didn’t explain her “motivation.” But that was the beauty of her I don’t think she had “motivation,” in that sense. She was messing around, and she really didn’t care how far the messing around went. And I’d love to have that ability, not only to create a situation, but also to then manipulate it for no reason other than the fact I wanted to.

Question: How long does it take for you to write a complete story? How does the process go?

Naughty Miranda: Not very long. As long as I’m left alone no phone calls, no visitors, no interruptions, I usually write a story one sitting, certainly in one evening.

Question: How do you come up with your story titles?

Naughty Miranda: As quickly as possible. Usually something in the story will leap out at me… “Greater Expectations,” for instance, was written after a visit to the village in England where Charles Dickens set part of “Great Expectations,” but it fit because the whole time I was in the UK, which is what the story is about, my own expectations kept getting higher and higher.

Question: What is the hardest part of writing a story?

Naughty Miranda: Trying not to repeat myself! I’m very conscious of the fact that there are people who’ve read a lot, if not all, of my stories… and it doesn’t matter how many of them there are, I’d hate to give them the same thing twice. Now, I know that’s not always possible there’s only so many things you can do with your body, or somebody else’s, come to that. But if you can’t present something in a new light… every time you sleep with somebody, it’s a different experience, right? So, every time you write about sleeping with somebody, that should be different as well.

Question: Have you ever done research for a part of a story you didn’t have any knowledge about or maybe for a sex scene?

Naughty Miranda: Not so much research, but I have embarked upon a few refresher courses. The one that comes to mind is “Oops! Wrong Reunion,” trying to remember what it feels like to have somebody eating a banana out of me… so, without telling him why, when my boyfriend came over later that evening, I just happened to have the fruit-bowl beside the bed. To be honest, it sounds fun, but it isn’t something I’d recommend to everybody. It’s very messy and, of course, everything stinks of banana afterwards. And it turned out that’s the part I’d forgotten, just how gooey it all is.

Question: Do you have any secret stories you don’t want to publish for the public? Do you publish your stories on other sites besides EroticStories.com and if so, why? Have you ever been published on paper?

Naughty Miranda: Secret stories, no. I have published on other sites… I’ve written a few stories that fall into Art’s forbidden territory, so I’ll take them elsewhere.

What was the other question? Published on paper… yes, a few times.

Question: When you receive negative comments do you just ignore them, build from them, or let it put a negative image over the story itself, and let it hinder your writing?

Naughty Miranda: It really depends upon what they are. The ones I ignore are the people who go through the story and count all the typos, or grammatical errors (and then write letters that are strewn with the things), or the ones who take exception to some incidental detail in the story… “how dare you smoke a cigarette….” Sorry, mom.

The ones I take notice of are the people who question things that happen in a story. A year or so ago, I got an e-mail from a woman who was outraged that I let a guy come in my mouth; she went on and on about how disgusting it was, and she couldn’t imagine what sort of girl I was, etc etc. I wrote back, a little belligerently, I must admit, pointing out that the story was in the Oral Sex section, and these things do happen

Anyway, we went back and forth for a while, and the way it turned out was, it wasn’t that she didn’t like it, she’d never actually done it, in case her husband was horrified and called her all the names she’d called me. So that’s something I do try and bear in mind, that some people are not assaulting the story, so much as assaulting their own fears or hang-ups.

Reading Habits:

Question: Do you also enjoy reading erotic stories? Which categories do you enjoy the most? Do you like true stories or fantasies?

Naughty Miranda: I adore Victorian and Edwardian erotica the language is so beautiful. There’s a few ES writers who I read whenever they post, and I always check out the Oral Sex category, partly because I love the subject, and partly because I’m fascinated by other people’s perspective and impressions on the subject. Especially other women. It’s like comparing notes after class. There was a story I read recently, “New York Night Club” by Missy Kay, and there was one sentence… she compared her first taste of a cock to the first sip from a margarita glass. That was just brilliant, one of the most descriptive images I’ve ever read, but so simple as well.

True stories or fantasies? As long as it’s believable, captivating and hot, it doesn’t really make a difference.

Question: Do you vote on other author’s stories? How do you decide what score to give when you do?

Naughty Miranda: I won’t vote if I think a story is lower than a 7 or 8… it just seems mean. The best stories for me are those where it feels as though the writer is actually speaking, where you can feel their passion and excitement.

Question: Do you send other author’s comments or feedback on their stories?

Naughty Miranda: Not as often as I’d like to, although if a story really grabs me and, again, they tend to be in the Oral section, I’ll usually drop them a quick line, just to say thank you.

Question: Do you have a favorite author on ES? What makes them your favorite?

Naughty Miranda: There’s a lot of writers on the site whose writing I really enjoy… Off the top of my head – Lynn McD, although she doesn’t seem to have posted anything for a while. I love Darkstar UK’s stuff, he has a great sense of humor, which is a lot more important in erotic stories than many people realize. Oh, and Sally, who writes some of the most out-of-control passion I’ve ever read, it’s amazing how the words just pour out of her.

Question: When you read a story do you: A. Touch yourself and come around the same time one of the characters do? B. Touch yourself but wait for the end to come? C. Touch yourself but wait until after you finish the story to come, such as after going to bed? D. Not touch yourself until you are finished and then continue thinking about the story and come? E. Any other variation you may do? (Please tell us what it is)

Naughty Miranda: C and D… although I’ve done E occasionally that is, try and recreate the story with somebody else, but without telling them where the idea came from.

Sex Habits:

Question: Do you enjoy the visual side of erotica, as in porn movies or pictures? If so, do you have any favorites?

Naughty Miranda: I really enjoy the vintage stuff Victorian photographs, old black and white stag movies, the ones where you really have to work at it to see what’s going on. I like the mystery, the intrigue, watching people’s faces as they do things, or get ready to do things, trying to gauge their reactions. Modern movies and photographs are too choreographed, too “acted out”; the older stuff has a reality that I think makes it a lot more exciting. But like I said earlier, I’m a total voyeur put me in a threesome situation, and I’m happy just watching the other couple.

Question: Do you remember the first pornography you ever saw? Tell us about it?

Naughty Miranda: I wrote a story about it! “Pictures of Lily” was about how some girlfriends and I used to sneak into a porno theatre, this was long before I’d ever been with a guy. We saw loads of films, but the one that really stuck with me was a movie called “The Sexorcists,” and I swear, every fantasy I’d ever had was completely rewritten by that movie. I was so happy when it finally came out on DVD! There’s a few sequences in there that I never tire of watching.

Question: Have you ever participated in erotic photography? If so, please tell us about it. If not, would you rather be the photographed or the photographer?

Naughty Miranda: Yes, and I’ve written about that as well! The first time was on a holiday to the UK, I met up with a guy who worked taking photos for picture postcards; he ended up taking some photos of me, which quickly became photos of me and him the story’s called “Greater Expectations (Part Five).” The other time, which I wrote about in “The Carrot and the Stick,” was a couple of years ago, when I was dating a guy who ran an erotic art showroom, specializing in vintage prints yes, my dream date! There was a studio in back of the showroom, where they would shoot scenes for certain customers, and we went back there one afternoon and messed around in period costume.

Question: What do you wear to bed?

Naughty Miranda: I’m writing this in early August, so the answer is nothing. It’s too hot. A sheen of sweat.

Question: Do your sex life and writing have any correlation with each other??

Naughty Miranda: I think I’ve answered that!

Question: How would you rate your willingness to try new things in bed?

Naughty Miranda: Probably 50-50…. It used to be higher, but a lot of guys I’ve met over the last few years seem to be getting all their ideas from modern porn films, and usually they’re not especially good ones to begin with. I’m not going to give examples, because it’ll just sound disgusting (and besides, maybe some people really do enjoy this stuff), but there’s a time and place for Xtreme sports, and the bedroom isn’t it.

Question: What’s the kinkiest thing you have done in your life?

Naughty Miranda: I don’t know… probably blowing my boyfriend in a restaurant bathroom, while we were having a meal with his parents, and then licking come off my hand when we returned to our seats. Or maybe that’s the grossest thing.

Question:Do you have any fantasies that you would like to fulfil?

Naughty Miranda: Yes, but nothing can ruin a relationship faster than telling your lover something you’d like them to do, and have them go “oh, yuk.” So I keep them strictly to myself.

Question: What is your opinion about sex toys? Do you have any toys yourself and if so, do you like to use them?

Naughty Miranda: Oddly enough, they’ve never appealed.

Question: What do you think about solo sex?

Naughty Miranda: I don’t especially enjoy it… I mean, it’s necessary occasionally, especially if you’re trying to sleep, but have odd thoughts buzzing around your brain. But I’d much rather wait until there’s someone else in the room.

Question: What are your favourite; and least favourite positions?

Naughty Miranda: Least favorite anything involving the ass. Favorite it’s not really a position, but I love giving head. I’ve probably had more orgasms when I’m doing that than in any other position.

Question: Do you believe in one night stands?

Naughty Miranda: Fervently.

Question: What makes someone sexy to you?

Naughty Miranda: I haven’t got a clue. Either they are or they aren’t. I could list a bunch of attributes that I consider “ideal,” but I’ve been let down by every one of them on at least one occasion.

Question: What is a major turn on for you during sex?

Naughty Miranda: I like shyness, uncertainty… when you know he wants to do something, but isn’t certain how you’ll react. I can’t stand that arrogant “oh baby, I bet you can’t wait to touch my dick” attitude that some guys have.

Question: What is a major turn off for you during sex?

Naughty Miranda: Violence, pain…. I don’t like guys who think it’s okay to call you names, or who bark out orders, as though you’re only there to service them. And, again, arrogance.

Question: Sex-talk. Do you like or dislike talking during sex?

Naughty Miranda: I can take it or leave it. Definitely in small doses, though. I dated one guy who wanted to keep up a running commentary about how much he loved licking my pussy … the problem was, he spent so much time talking, I don’t think he actually licked it once.

Question: In bed or on the kitchen table?

Naughty Miranda: I like it on the stairs!

Question: What is your favourite or most memorable moment in bed?

Naughty Miranda: Probably… no, definitely, the first time I ever put a cock in my mouth. I mean, what would I write about if I’d hated it?

And Last but not least…

Question: You are #12 on the “Top 100 favourite authors” list. How does it feel to know you have 222 people that have favorited you? **

Naughty Miranda: Thrilled to bits!

Question: Is there anybody on this site, who you would like to see interviewed? Why?

Naughty Miranda: Sally, definitely. Darkstar UK. All my favorites. But I think most of the regular ES writers have something interesting to say, because why else would they be writing?

Question: Do you notice any differences between the “younger” writers on here, and between the “older writers” of this site?

Naughty Miranda: Not really. If you have a good story to tell, it doesn’t matter whether you’ve been writing for decades, or have only just picked up a pen.

Question: Is there anything else you would like to say to the readers of this interview and your fans? Now is your chance…

Naughty Miranda: Just… thanks for reading and voting, and everything else!