Desire

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

Page 246 of 344 · 20 per page

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  and that you can re-create yourself at will. You can follow the same path to power and fame as someone else, even though they come from very different circumstances. The concept of a set character can seem like a prison, and many people secretly want to be taken outside themselves, through drugs, alcohol, or video games. The result of such denial is simple: the compulsive behavior and the patterns become even more set into place. You cannot move against the grain of your character or wish it away. It is too powerful. This was precisely the problem for Howard Hughes. He imagined himself a great businessman, establishing an empire that would outdo his father’s. But by his nature, he was not a good manager of people. His real strength was more technical—he had a great feel for the design and engineering aspects of airplane production. If he had known and accepted this, he could have carved out a brilliant career as the visionary behind his own aircraft company and left the day-to- day operations to someone truly capable. But he lived with an image of himself that did not correlate with his character. This led to a pattern of failures and a miserable life. The other direction is harder to take, but it is the only path that leads to true power and the formation of a superior character. It works in the following manner: You examine yourself as thoroughly as possible. You look at the deepest layers of your character, determining whether you are an introvert or extrovert, whether you tend to be governed by high levels of anxiety and sensitivity, or hostility and anger, or a profound need to engage with people. You look at your primal inclinations—those subjects and activities you are naturally drawn to. You examine the quality of attachments you formed with your parents, looking at your current relationships as the best sign of this. You look with rigorous honesty at your own mistakes and the patterns that continually hold you back. You know your limitations—those situations in which you do not do your best. You also become aware of the natural strengths in your character that have survived past adolescence. Now, with this awareness, you are no longer the captive of your character, compelled to endlessly repeat the same strategies and mistakes. As you see yourself falling into one of your usual patterns, you can catch yourself in time and step back. You may not be able to completely eliminate such patterns, but with practice you can mitigate their effects. Knowing your limitations, you will not try your hand at things for which you have no capacity or inclination. Instead, you will choose career paths that suit you and mesh with your character. In general, you accept and embrace your character. Your desire is not to become someone else but to be more thoroughly yourself, realizing your true potential. You see your character as the

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  only to find dozens of reasons of why the advice given won’t work for them. The best thing to do is to play a game of mental judo with them. In judo you do not counter people’s moves with a thrust of your own but rather encourage their aggressive energy (resistance) in order to make them fall on their own. Here are some ways to put this into practice in everyday life. Use their emotions: In the book Change , the therapist authors (Paul Watzlawick, John H. Weakland, and Richard Fisch) discuss the case of a rebellious teenager, suspended from school by the principal because he was caught dealing drugs. He was still to do his homework at home but was forbidden to be on campus. This would put a big dent in his drug-dealing business. The boy burned with the desire to get vengeance. The mother consulted a therapist, who told her to do the following: explain to the son that the principal believed only students who attended class in person could do well. In the principal’s mind, by keeping the boy away from school he was ensuring he would fail. If he did better by working at home than in class, this would embarrass the principal. Better to not try too hard this semester and get on the good side of the principal by proving him right. Of course, such advice was designed to play into his emotions. Now he desired nothing more than to embarrass the principal and so threw himself into his homework with great energy, the goal of the therapist all along. In essence, the idea is not to counter people’s strong emotions but to move with them and find a way to channel them in a productive direction. Use their language: The therapist Milton Erickson (see chapter 3) described the following case that he had treated: A husband came to him for advice, although he seemed quite set on doing what he wanted anyway. He and his wife came from very religious families and had married mostly to please their parents. The husband and wife were very religious as well. Their honeymoon, however, had been a disaster. They found sex very awkward and did not feel like they were in love. The husband decided it was not anyone’s fault but that they should get “a friendly divorce.” Erickson readily agreed with him and suggested exactly how to bring about this “friendly divorce.” He instructed him to reserve a room at a hotel. They were to have one final “friendly” night together before the divorce. They were also to have one last “friendly” glass of champagne, one last “friendly” kiss between them, and so on. These instructions virtually ensured the wife’s seduction by her husband. As Erickson had hoped, the husband followed his instructions, the couple had an exciting evening together, and they happily decided to remain married. Erickson intuited that the husband did not really want a divorce

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He wanted to feel Brynn’s body grinding against his, both of them slick with sweat and so aroused they couldn’t get enough of each other. He pressed a finger just inside Brynn’s pussy, feeling the heat and wetness there, so different from the tepid bath water. Brynn gasped, gripping Paul’s wrist tightly and wriggling beneath his touch until water splashed over the side of the bathtub. “Easy, baby,” Paul soothed. “I’ll give you what you want.” Brynn looked at him, blue eyes heavy-lidded with lust, her expression one of complete trust. “I know you will.” Paul slid his finger deeper, feeling Brynn’s muscles reflexively tighten around her. “Been practicing your Kegels, I see,” he said. Brynn giggled and nodded. “Yeah.” “Good girl.” Paul slipped another finger inside her wetness, curving them up and forward to rub that rough spot he knew so well. “How’s that?” “Oh!” Brynn exclaimed, sloshing water over the edge of the tub as she took Paul’s fingers inside her. “Yesssss!” Paul’s clothes were soaking wet at this point, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was making Brynn feel good. He twisted his fingers inside Brynn’s pussy, feeling the slick wetness of arousal. It fueled his own desire, coaxing his passion beyond gentleness. He tweaked one of Brynn’s nipples between his fingers, delighting in the damp, rubbery texture of the skin beneath his touch. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he said, barely recognizing his own voice. Brynn cupped her full breasts, head thrown back against the side of the tub. “Fuck me with your fingers,” she whispered. “I need to come.” Her words drove Paul to the edge. He added a third finger inside Brynn’s swollen pussy, filling her. He laced his fingers together and made a twisting motion as Brynn’s muscles clenched down on him. He didn’t want to be gentle anymore, wasn’t even sure that he could. He just wanted to fuck Brynn—hard. He looked into Brynn’s half-closed eyes, searching for approval. “Are you sure you can take this?” Brynn nodded. “Oh yeah. I want it. Do it.” That was all the encouragement Paul needed. Oblivious to everything but the feel of Brynn’s pussy clamped around his fingers, he began to fuck her hard. Water sloshed every which way, causing a tidal wave in the bathroom until the floor was soaked and Brynn was only half-covered by water. Paul braced his right hand lightly on Brynn’s wet, swollen belly as he finger-fucked her with his left hand. It was like fucking a beautiful, familiar stranger—and that aroused him in a way he could never have predicted. “You’re so wet, baby,” he growled, pushing his fingers deep inside Brynn.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  She tangled her fingers in his hair, but didn’t really tug—it was an old habit with them, almost a joke. She’d urge, but she’d still let him take the lead, make the decision to finally lean all the way in and swipe his tongue across her lips, bury between her folds, nuzzle against her clit. When he finally did, she let out a long sigh, feeling like they had both come home. Then his talented tongue was working its magic, flicking against her swollen bud, stoking the fire. She pressed her head so hard against the back of the sofa that she knew her neck would hurt the next day, but she didn’t care. The scorching spiral toward orgasm wound tighter and tighter, the fire consuming her until she screamed her release. Ethan didn’t give her much time to recover, and she didn’t blame him. He shucked off his pants and underwear, and she saw how hard he was, tasted the moisture that seeped from the tip of his cock. He groaned as she did, but pulled her away a moment later, telling her he needed to be inside her. She had no argument for that. He urged her up, and she knelt on trembling legs to face the back of the sofa. He wasted little time sliding into her, and no matter how long it had been, she welcomed him, knowing now just how much she’d missed him. His hands were full of her breasts as he pushed into her. She felt his thrusts grow staccato, knew he was close. She welcomed that, too, because she was already on edge again herself, from the rake of his cock deep inside her and the pressure of his hands on her nipples. She felt herself clamp down, and then she tumbled into another orgasm, pulsing along the length of him. Dimly she heard his own shout as he came with her. Eventually they roused themselves, although it was largely so Ethan could check whether the bottle of brandy they always tucked into a back cabinet was still there. It was. They sipped and talked, long into the night, long past the three-quarter moon’s shimmer on the water. Eventually they staggered to the bedroom, spread the sleeping bag he’d brought onto the bed, and made love again. Slower, this time, and more bittersweet, perhaps, as Bella cradled his head in her hands and he buried his face in her shoulder as they came. They were roused the next morning not by the stream of sunlight across the bed but the sound of the front door being unlocked. Ethan scrambled into pants and shirt, giving Bella time to dive for the bathroom. She was vaguely amazed she had no hangover. And no heartache. In the bathroom mirror, she saw that her hair was a tangle, her lips puffy from kisses, and her eyes sparkling from pleasure despite the circles beneath them. She pulled herself together as best she could.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  His callused thumb moved higher, tracing the lace between her ass cheeks, and Jodi closed her eyes as her knees threatened to give way. He could still do it to her. One touch and she was like warm flowing honey in his hands. The music changed to another slow song, and he bent his head and took possession of her mouth, his tongue thrusting deep as he penetrated her sex with one long finger. She gasped into his mouth but couldn’t escape him, her body way too eager to accept his penetration in any way she could get it. When he finally lifted his head she could only stare up at him in mute appeal. He took her hand and started toward the restrooms. “Come on.” He didn’t stop until they’d exited the back door of the bar and veered to the left. Jodi found herself in a small yard filled with barrels and crates of empty bottles. He backed her up against the nearest wall, his gaze hungry and determined, his hands all over her. “I can’t wait. I want to fuck you right now.” Jodi moaned as he rucked up her skirt to her waist, cupped her ass, and lifted her against the thick wedge of his cock. The denim felt harsh against her swollen wet folds, but she didn’t care as he ground himself against her. “You want this? You want my cock?” Jodi nodded. “Then take it out so I can fuck you right here against the wall.” Jodi scrabbled with his metal belt buckle and straining zipper until she revealed his thick shaft. Before she could do more than moan her appreciation, he lifted her and impaled her on his thick heated length. She screamed into his mouth at the sudden penetration, holding tight to his shoulders as he worked himself up inside her in short, sharp, unforgiving strokes. “Take it, honey. Take my cock in your cunt, make me come.” Jodi concentrated on the thrust and withdrawal of his shaft and the ragged sensations he aroused in her. She anchored her feet on his pumping hips and simply enjoyed the wildness. Had she ever had sex like this before? Probably not since she’d gotten married and certainly not since she’d had kids. She felt his buttocks tighten beneath her heels, and his stroke became shorter and faster as if he was trying to jackhammer his way up inside her. He managed to shove his hand between them and zeroed in on her clit, thumbing it in hard circles until she started to come around his big cock in an ever-tightening frenzy of need. He groaned into her mouth and climaxed, his cum hot against her clenching, greedy, demanding pussy. When Jodi opened her eyes, he was still holding her, her legs wrapped around his hips and his cock just inside her. “We’re not done.” Jodi gasped as he started walking toward the parking lot. “You can put me down!”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He waited outside the door for me and, on my exit, he took me by the shoulders and steered me back to the bed. “Since you can’t be trusted to do as you’re told,” he said, “perhaps I need to tie you to the bed. Hmm? Should I?” “No,” I whispered. “I’ll ask next time.” “You’ve got your phone. If I’m in another room, just send me a message.” “I will.” I collapsed into the blankets again and let them take me into their too-hot embrace. For two days I languished, but on day three, I began to rally. My voice was still more like that of a pubescent boy than a professional soprano, and my head still felt stuffed with wadding, but my spirits made a brisk reentry, and so did my libido. I picked up the mobile phone and began to text. I knew that Matthew was composing in the other room, but he’d had two uninterrupted days with his muse. Surely she could spare him for a little while. “I need a doctor,” I wrote, and pressed Send. He appeared in the doorway in a matter of seconds, his face pale. “Are you alright, Loveday? Why do you need a doctor? Are you feeling worse?” Feeling slightly guilty, I shook my head. “I meant you,” I warbled. “I need Dr. Rossington.” The color returned to his cheeks, and he raised a disapproving eyebrow. “You mean you just worried me on a whim?” “I didn’t mean to. I just felt the urgent need for some... medical attention.” I tried to look sexy, which wasn’t easy in an old-lady nightgown and socks, but it seemed to work because he came all the way into the room and stationed himself at the foot of the bed, arms folded, brow creased in that thrilling way I love so much. “Medical attention? Well, I think I can provide that. Take off your nightgown.” I pulled the sagging cotton over my head and peeled off the socks too, since he’d never expressed a kink for them, while he left the room. When he came back, he was carrying a basin of soapy water and a sponge. “Let’s start with a bed bath, shall we?” He pulled out the rubber sheet from underneath the bed and made me lie flat on it, its cold smooth texture immediately transporting me back to the other occasions it had been in use, bringing my reawakened sex drive to even more vivid life. I curled my toes and clenched my vaginal muscles, enjoying the sight of him rolling up his shirtsleeves before he reached for the sponge.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  God knows how he’d managed not to lose his cowboy hat, but it was now planted firmly on his head. “Just do something for me before I start driving. Spread your legs wide and rub your clit. I want to make you come straight away when I next get inside you.” She slowly opened her legs, aware that he was watching her, his narrowed gaze fixed on her wet sex. She touched her clit and gently circled it with the tip of her finger. “Yeah, that’s good.” His voice was rougher now. “Now slide your little finger in your ass because you know I’m going to fuck you there before we’ve finished tonight.” Jodi swirled her smallest finger in the wetness they’d created and tilted her hips forward so that she could ease the tip of her finger inward through the tight pucker of her ass. She imagined his cock there too, much bigger and more demanding, making her beg him to stop, to never stop, to fuck her until she was hoarse from screaming. The drive hardly seemed to take a minute before he stopped the truck. “Stay here.” Jodi was quite happy to oblige him. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to move ever again. She continued to touch herself until he opened her door and stared down at her. “Christ,” he muttered and bent his head to lick her fingers and clit. She climaxed hard, pushing her sex into his questing tongue. Before she finished coming he picked her up and strode toward a dimly lit building, pausing only to slide the card in the lock and kick the door open with one booted foot. He snapped on the light. The room smelled of dust, bleach, and old carpet but she didn’t care. There was a bed and a bathroom, and that was all they’d ever needed. He laid her carefully on the bed. “I want to see you naked. I never get to see you naked anymore.” She helped him remove her clothes and then he came down over her, his mouth on her breast, one hard thigh between her legs tormenting her already sensitive clit. His fingers slid into her from behind and probed her slick entrance. “Damn, I wish I had two cocks. I want to fill you up.” He kissed her mouth. “Next time, bring your vibrator with you, okay?” “Sure.” If there was a next time...Jodi attacked the snaps on his shirt to reveal every inch of his muscled chest. He didn’t need to go to the gym to work out. Life on a ranch was hard enough. She went to unbuckle his belt, and he caught her hand. “Give me the belt when you’ve taken it off me. I want to try something new.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He held it above me and I jolted, emitting a soundless squeal, as cold water dripped on to my naked breasts. “Don’t move,” he ordered. “Or I’ll tie you down. Keep perfectly still.” It was almost impossible not to squirm or shield my upper body as each drop fell delicately and with deadly impact onto my stiffening nipples or goosepimpling belly. I balled my hands into fists and tried to hold my breath—one thing I’m very good at—until he relented, poured some warmer water into the basin from a jug and loaded the sponge with soothing suds. They glided over my body, leaving their trail of foam, as Matthew washed me from my neck downward, moving the sponge with loving expertise between and beneath my breasts, round and round the elliptical mound of my abdomen and then onward. “Let’s get you nice and clean,” he said, under his breath as if talking to himself. “And ready. Ready for your treatment.” My pussy hardly needed the sponge to dampen it; his words and his calm, authoritative manner had already set the juices flowing. But he washed between my thighs diligently, moving the sponge closer and closer until it parted my lower lips, dabbing the foam on and around my clit, making it sting just a little bit. I sucked in air and jiggled my hips. “Oh dear. You moved. Legs wider, please, I think we’ll need a little more attention to this area.” I didn’t want more soap on my clit, but I did as I was told, somehow making it through the extra cruel ablutions, though I don’t think I managed to keep as still as he required me to. “I hope I don’t need to tell you,” he said, picking up a razor and beginning to scrape away the three-day growth of hair from my genital area, “that you are forbidden to strain your voice. Any crying out or making a sound will be punished.” I cursed my bedridden horniness. I might have known Matthew would be a terrible doctor. But despite my apprehension, my stomach was curling over and over inside, tautening into a knot of sheer lustful excitement. “Right,” he said briskly, discarding the razor. “On to your stomach.” This was always a dangerous position to be in if you were in Matthew’s vicinity, but I rolled over and presented him with my rear view. The warm soapy water spilled deliciously from my shoulder blades down into the hollow of my back, pooling in the crease of my buttocks. Matthew swabbed away at the cheeks he made such endless use of, wiping them clean and finishing with a deep cleansing sweep of the crack between. I heard the sponge splash back into the basin and then I blanched as Matthew’s fingers kept my bum cheeks spread. “Now, about that fever,” he murmured. “We need to make sure your temperature’s down before we go any further.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He held it above me and I jolted, emitting a soundless squeal, as cold water dripped on to my naked breasts. “Don’t move,” he ordered. “Or I’ll tie you down. Keep perfectly still.” It was almost impossible not to squirm or shield my upper body as each drop fell delicately and with deadly impact onto my stiffening nipples or goosepimpling belly. I balled my hands into fists and tried to hold my breath—one thing I’m very good at—until he relented, poured some warmer water into the basin from a jug and loaded the sponge with soothing suds. They glided over my body, leaving their trail of foam, as Matthew washed me from my neck downward, moving the sponge with loving expertise between and beneath my breasts, round and round the elliptical mound of my abdomen and then onward. “Let’s get you nice and clean,” he said, under his breath as if talking to himself. “And ready. Ready for your treatment.” My pussy hardly needed the sponge to dampen it; his words and his calm, authoritative manner had already set the juices flowing. But he washed between my thighs diligently, moving the sponge closer and closer until it parted my lower lips, dabbing the foam on and around my clit, making it sting just a little bit. I sucked in air and jiggled my hips. “Oh dear. You moved. Legs wider, please, I think we’ll need a little more attention to this area.” I didn’t want more soap on my clit, but I did as I was told, somehow making it through the extra cruel ablutions, though I don’t think I managed to keep as still as he required me to. “I hope I don’t need to tell you,” he said, picking up a razor and beginning to scrape away the three-day growth of hair from my genital area, “that you are forbidden to strain your voice. Any crying out or making a sound will be punished.” I cursed my bedridden horniness. I might have known Matthew would be a terrible doctor. But despite my apprehension, my stomach was curling over and over inside, tautening into a knot of sheer lustful excitement. “Right,” he said briskly, discarding the razor. “On to your stomach.” This was always a dangerous position to be in if you were in Matthew’s vicinity, but I rolled over and presented him with my rear view. The warm soapy water spilled deliciously from my shoulder blades down into the hollow of my back, pooling in the crease of my buttocks. Matthew swabbed away at the cheeks he made such endless use of, wiping them clean and finishing with a deep cleansing sweep of the crack between. I heard the sponge splash back into the basin and then I blanched as Matthew’s fingers kept my bum cheeks spread. “Now, about that fever,” he murmured. “We need to make sure your temperature’s down before we go any further.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Electric bites of pleasure zapped her nerves, spreading heat and sensation through her. Her hips ground against his hand spastically, graceless, but honest and greedy. Tom continued to press her against the back of the sofa, pulling her skirt up, her panties down. He took his hand from her clit long enough to pull her blouse free of the waistband of her skirt, reaching under it, under her lace bra to her breasts, cupping them as if he weighed them, testing her hard nipples, circling the tips until she panted. He pulled back just enough to turn her away from him, so that his cock bumped her butt. He pinned her, holding her still, and when he took his hands from her, she felt like a boiling pot with the fire suddenly turned off. The crinkle and tear of plastic registered moments before his hands again found her skin, one stroking the curve of her ass, the other stroking up the crack of her pussy, teasing her, spreading her. The stroke of his cock head along her pussy lips nearly shoved her over the edge. Coated in her juices, he pressed into her from behind, his cock thick, hard and gloriously filling. His exhalation bordered on a moan, and with his balls slapping her butt, he paused, buried deep. Joanna drew a constricted breath that barely seemed real. She was doing it. She was getting fucked by Tom Wolburn. Another elevator might arrive at any moment, or someone might emerge from the hall into the lobby, but she was beyond caring. His first few strokes were slow, testing, and amazingly smooth. She savored every inch, her nerves blooming beyond physical stimulation but into something so intense it seemed almost artificial, like some glorious drug that dulled mundane cares and magnified bliss. The beat increased rapidly, his cock splitting her, taking her, marking her, a precise pattern of stretching nerves and tearing lust that left her powerless to do anything other than brace her arms on the seat of the sofa and take it. Her clit bumped and bumped against the edge of the sofa, adding another layer of pleasure and as orgasm rose in her, she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lower lip against the scream so near to utterance. Gold walls melted to crystal. Her ears rang with the scuff of the sofa as Tom’s thrust pushed it into the coffee table. The shudder began at her knees and overwhelmed her body as the orgasm rocketed through her. Her locked elbows buckled, and her face met the back cushion of the couch. She just knew her muffled scream could be heard down in the main lobby. He pulled her back against him and gave three more hard, rapid pumps before he huffed, made a sound that resembled a gurgle, then folded over her, panting into her spine.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Are you okay with that?” I nodded, reaching for the zipper at the side of my dress. “Leave it.” I quirked my eyebrow at him, but I left my dress zipped and walked over to take his hands. The glow from the light turned the glass doors to the balcony into quasi-mirrors, reflecting the room while still letting in the twinkling lights from the marina in the darkness below. Eric slid his fingers up my arms, then he was holding my head to his, his kisses hungry now, still soft but with an underlying desperation that had me quickly running my tongue over the insides of his lips. When I sucked his tongue, he groaned, his hard-on so stiff against me I felt my juices trickling down my thigh. “Undo my pants,” he growled, one hand sliding down to cup my breast. As I tugged his zipper down, the side of my dress parted. His hand was against my bare skin, stroking a trail of fire. His belt clunked to the floor, and his bare hip was against my hand. No underwear. I hadn’t expected any. “I can’t wait,” he growled against my lips. “Now,” I panted. “Hurry.” I reached for the condom and met his hand. “I’ll do it. If you touch me, I’ll come.” He stepped out of his pants and sheathed himself, breaking the kiss again to move in back of me. He sat and pulled me to straddle him, my back to his chest, my thighs spread wide over his, the open slit in my panties exposed. My skirt fell between us as he lowered me onto his lap. “We have a problem,” I laughed breathlessly. “No problem,” he panted. The silk of my skirt rasped against my pussy lips as he ground me against the hot flesh of his erection. His groan was long and loud. I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of him lowering the top of my dress, of him lifting my breasts out of their confinement to rest on top of the blasted Wonderbra, the cool air helping his talented fingers tease my nipples to rock-hard peaks. “Look at the window.” Oh, my God. Our full-length reflections gazed back at us from the long sheet of glass. My head rested against Eric’s shoulder, his face visible next to mine, my chest arched forward displaying my bare breasts where he toyed with my nipples. I balanced on my heels as his other hand slowly teased my skirt up, over my thighs, over the tops of my stockings. Higher. “Christ.” Eric’s hand shook as he raised the shimmering red silk past the lace-framed, neatly trimmed thatch guarding my pussy lips. His fingers spread the sopping lace, slid between the slick, swollen folds, through the glistening dark pink slit to delve deep into my pussy. “Fuck. Now! I need you now!

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  had been plaguing him for months. He was impatient to move on to a bigger stage and shake the foundations of Hollywood. This restlessness had been the story of his life. He had begun his career at ABC, and never settling too comfortably within one department, after nine years of various promotions he had risen to the position of head of prime-time programming. But television began to seem small and constricting to him. He needed a larger, grander stage. In 1976 Barry Diller—a former boss at ABC and now the chairman of Paramount Pictures—offered him the job of heading Paramount’s film studio, and he jumped at the chance. Paramount had long been in the doldrums, but working with Diller, Eisner transformed it into the hottest studio in Hollywood, with a string of remarkably successful films— Saturday Night Fever , Grease , Flashdance , and Terms of Endearment . Although Diller certainly played a part in this turnaround, Eisner saw himself as the main driving force behind the studio’s success. After all, he had invented a surefire formula for creating profitable films. The formula depended on keeping costs down, an obsession of his. To do so, a film had to begin with a great concept, one that was original, easy to summarize, and dramatic. Executives could hire the most expensive writers, directors, and actors for a film, but if the underlying concept was weak, all the money in the world would be wasted. Films with a strong concept, however, would market themselves. A studio could churn these relatively inexpensive films out in volume, and even if they were only moderate hits, they would ensure a steady flow of income. This thinking went against the grain of the blockbuster mentality of the late 1970s, but who could argue with the undeniable profits Eisner had generated for Paramount? Eisner immortalized this formula in a memo that soon spread around Hollywood and became gospel. But after so many years of sharing the limelight with Diller at Paramount, trying to please corporate CEOs, and pushing back against marketing directors and finance people, Eisner had had enough. If only he could run his own studio, unfettered. With the formula he had created and with his relentless ambition, he could forge the greatest and most profitable entertainment empire in the world. He was tired of other people piggybacking on his ideas and success. Operating on top and alone, he could control the show and take all the credit. As Eisner contemplated this next critical move in his career that summer of ’84, he finally settled upon the perfect target for his ambitions—the Walt Disney Company. At first glance, this would seem a puzzling choice. Since the death of Walt Disney in 1966, the Walt Disney film studio seemed frozen in time, getting weirder with each passing year. The place operated more like a stodgy men’s club. Many executives stopped working after lunch and spent their afternoons in card games, or would lounge about in the steam room

• From Best Erotic Romance

  The kiss was tentative, which was so unlike him that she almost drew back. But the taste of him, which she’d almost forgotten until now and had never stopped missing, was almost too much to bear, and she couldn’t pull away. It was that, she guessed, that emboldened him. When she responded, his touch grew more sure. He drew her in and she went willingly, the feel of his tongue against hers triggering the warm glow of arousal that she knew would soon smolder, ignite, and finally consume her. So familiar, and yet so foreign. Each step along the unlit path brought back hints of remembrance, like sweet déjà vu. She traced his biceps, ran her hands down his back, feeling the muscles flex. He bit gently on her lower lip, and she gasped, the thrill streaking down between her legs. She was already wet, wetter even than when she’d masturbated earlier. His touch had always done that to her. How had she gone so long without this? He grazed his teeth along the line of her throat as she plucked at his shirt buttons. She didn’t get all of them, but she couldn’t wait any longer, splaying her hands across his smooth chest, lightly tracing her nails over his nipples until he groaned. He took one of her hands and guided it down to his crotch, pressing her palm against the bulge there, showing her just how excited she made him. Her clit shivered in response. Fleetingly, she wondered where this was leading. Oh, to sex, obviously, but wasn’t sex with your ex supposed to be anathema? Tacky, even? (Not that he was her ex just yet, but as good as.) She ignored that thought, pushed away all thoughts. They didn’t matter. What mattered was his hands and lips and tongue on her, and her hands and teeth on him, and the need they shared. He tugged her shirt free and pulled it over her head, and by the time he’d tossed it away she had already made good headway toward removing her bra, popping the front hook and shrugging out of it. His eyes were dark in the candle flame, but she could imagine the hunger in them before he dipped his head to suckle. So good. She arched her back in response as he teased her, drawing each bud between his lips, flicking with his tongue, biting just enough to make her squirm and beg. Beg him not to stop. Beg him for more. She dipped a hand between her legs, under her panties, and soaked her fingers, then spread the moisture on her nipples for him to savor. “So sweet,” he murmured. “Bella…I have to taste you for real.” They didn’t even bother removing her long, loose skirt. She hiked it up while he slid the now-useless panties over her hips, down her thighs. The scrape of the lace against her skin was almost more than she could bear.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  “You gonna order me around all night?” “I think so,” he murmured. “Seein’ as how it turns you on.” He traced a finger down the lace, right between my folds. He couldn’t miss the moisture soaking through the satin. When he popped his finger in his mouth for a taste, I pushed my panties down the rest of the way and then waited as he looked me over. Danny traced down the edges of my nude outer lips. “Did you do that for me?” I shook my head. “I prefer it.” “Spread ’em open for me.” I reached down and opened my lips and held them that way while he fingered the thin inner labia and pushed a long thick digit inside me. My pussy clenched around him, then released. Then squeezed again. A trickle of moisture greeted his invasion, and he quickly pulled out and sat up in the small, cramped space beside me to tug his shirt over his head. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them past his hips. Just far enough to free his cock, which sprang free, lifting toward the ceiling of the cab. I didn’t wait for him to tell me what he wanted, he was too tight, too quiet, his breaths coming fast. I climbed over his knees and curled down to take him in my mouth. His fingers combed through my hair, then framed my face. I bobbed down, my lips suctioning, latching around his crown to suckle hard, my tongue swirling over and over his soft, sleek head. I found the slit, teased it with the point of my tongue, then swirled again, sinking down his cock to take more of his length, caressing the sides of his thick shaft with my long, slippery glides. His hand fisted in my hair and pulled me off. “Thought this was supposed to be your fantasy.” “Think I haven’t thought about doing this? What it would feel like? How thick, how long it would be? I’m just gettin’ acquainted.” “Damn. Come on up here.” I started to crawl up his body, sliding my chest over his belly, but he shook his head. “No, sit that bare-nekkid pussy over my mouth.” I pressed my lips together to keep the laughter trapped. “Not cool enough?” he gritted out. “It sounded sort of cheesy.” “Didn’t I say it with enough snarl?” “Just the right snarl if you were The King.” “Who?” “Never mind,” I muttered. Baby. “I mean it. You got close and personal with me, turnabout is fair play. Bring it on up here, girl.” “I’m not a girl,” I said, pushing out my lower lip. He rolled his eyes. “Will you stop with the age thing? I want that pussy on my mouth.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He guided her head toward his shaft, and she took him deep and sucked hard. His hand fisted in her hair, and he rolled his hips in tandem to her sucking. “That’s good, honey.” He murmured, his voice turning her on even more. From the corner of her eye, she saw him wrap the end of the belt around his hand. He jerked the leather, sending a jolt of sensation running back along her pussy to her bound wrists. He pulled on the belt again making her moan and writhe against the friction. She wasn’t sure whether the sensation was painful or pleasurable, but she didn’t care anymore. There was no shame in this. It was all about giving each other what they both so desperately needed. His hand tightened in her hair. “We’re running out of time. Let go of my cock and get on your hands and knees.” Reluctantly Jodi released him, and he helped her turn onto her hands and knees, her wrists still bound with his belt, her ass arched toward him. She shivered as the belt fell away from her sex and at least four of his fingers slid into her pussy. “Please.” She whispered. “Fuck my ass, please.” His laugh was low and desperate. “Do you have lube in that purse? Otherwise it’ll just be my cock and it’ll be rough.” “I’d take you that way,” Jodi said. “You know that, but I do have lube.” He reached for her purse, opened it, and let the contents fall haphazardly onto the bed. “Got it.” Jodi waited in trembling anticipation as he prepared himself and then slid a well-lubed finger into her ass and moved it back and forth. He bent over her, his mouth close to her ear. “I’m a bastard. I like fucking you when you’re not completely turned on. I like having to gain every inch and how you can’t stop getting all wet around me anyway.” He added another finger and then another, widening her for his cock, and she simply closed her eyes and enjoyed every moment. Sure, she’d be sore tomorrow, but at least she’d have lived a little and escaped her normal boring life. He pulled his fingers out, and she felt the broad head of his cock probe her tight bud. He eased himself inside her, whispering encouragement, sharing every filthy, loving thought he had about how she felt and how hard he was going to fuck her when he was finally inside her. And he did fuck her—until she was screaming his name and he pinched her clit so hard that she couldn’t breathe and couldn’t see for the pleasure. After a short while, and a visit to the bathroom, she managed to undress him completely and ride his cock again until he was the one begging and pleading with her never to stop.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Answer the question.” A long pause. “A place where a man can think through every mistake he made. A place where a man can learn to use his voice like a tape recorder. A place where a man can taste a steak in his mind while scraping scraps of rotten rice up in his fingers. Learn all the things that got past him when he was busy being an idiot fool.” Sarah’s knees pressed tighter to Dave’s hip. She traced her fingers on his thick shoulder. “Where?” Spoken softly, “Vietcong prison camp.” “Sorry, that must have been—” “It’s going to be a magnificent sunrise.” Dave reached toward her face and waited. She nodded and he stroked her full cheeks, then traced her slim lips with his rough thumb. He whispered, “I may not be looking at that sun when it comes. You’re too beautiful.” Sarah started to cover her smile, didn’t, and rested her head on his shoulder. She lifted her mouth to Dave. After a pause, Dave dipped his sweet-salty tongue in her mouth. He traced her teeth, then the bottom of her tongue, then around the top. “You taste so fine, Sarah.” She’d never felt a kiss so deep in her body. “May I?” Sarah nodded toward the sleeper behind them. “Make yourself at home.” She kicked off her shoes and crawled in. She reached for the tie at her waist. “Remember? I said there would be a prize.” He grabbed her hand fast. “That’s more’n a prize.” The way he looked at her, the way he said it, made it hard for her not to gasp. It was the time of free love, sexual liberation, and cast in that light, this was a prize, pure and simple. She was sure of it, right up to the moment. She let go of the bow and relaxed her hand into his. “So you never had, just sex for the fun of it, Dave?” Dave looked out the front of the cab at the growing strip of light. “That’s none of your business.” “You have.” “Appetites go strong when a man ain’t fed. Sometimes it’s hard not to gorge. Don’t make it right, and the bellyache after tells you so.” Sarah reached her hand back in the cab and turned his face toward her. “I want to gorge, bellyache be damned.” She reached for the tie again. He didn’t stop her. She unbuttoned her dress. It fell open. Dave cleared his throat. Sarah reached into the cab and tried to turn his face to her. He held fast. “You know, we’re in Winnemucca. This is where we…go our separate ways.” “I know.” She shook her shoulders. The dress fell away to fully expose her bright white bra and panties. “Ever made love in a sunrise?” Dave shook his head. “Can’t says I have.” “Then you ain’t lived, Dave.” She pulled his chin again. Now he looked. His eyes roved up and down her hungrily. “Oh lord.” “Join me.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Paul didn’t go further than that; he simply rested his finger on that sensitive button as he cupped her mound lightly. Staring into Brynn’s eyes, Paul could see the war Brynn fought with herself. Uncomfortable in her own skin, she hadn’t let Paul touch her like this in months. Paul longed to make love to her, but he wouldn’t push her. He would let Brynn decide. Brynn didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. She sunk down in the lukewarm water and covered Paul’s hand with her own. She pressed his finger hard against her pussy, letting out a soft moan when Paul took the lead and rubbed her clit. It was something so simple—hardly the stuff of an earthshaking sexual experience—but Brynn’s acquiescence sent a rush of heat through Paul. He wanted Brynn. Now. He wanted to fuck her the way he had before they’d gotten pregnant. He wanted to feel Brynn’s body grinding against his, both of them slick with sweat and so aroused they couldn’t get enough of each other. He pressed a finger just inside Brynn’s pussy, feeling the heat and wetness there, so different from the tepid bath water. Brynn gasped, gripping Paul’s wrist tightly and wriggling beneath his touch until water splashed over the side of the bathtub. “Easy, baby,” Paul soothed. “I’ll give you what you want.” Brynn looked at him, blue eyes heavy-lidded with lust, her expression one of complete trust. “I know you will.” Paul slid his finger deeper, feeling Brynn’s muscles reflexively tighten around her. “Been practicing your Kegels, I see,” he said. Brynn giggled and nodded. “Yeah.” “Good girl.” Paul slipped another finger inside her wetness, curving them up and forward to rub that rough spot he knew so well. “How’s that?” “Oh!” Brynn exclaimed, sloshing water over the edge of the tub as she took Paul’s fingers inside her. “Yesssss!” Paul’s clothes were soaking wet at this point, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was making Brynn feel good. He twisted his fingers inside Brynn’s pussy, feeling the slick wetness of arousal. It fueled his own desire, coaxing his passion beyond gentleness. He tweaked one of Brynn’s nipples between his fingers, delighting in the damp, rubbery texture of the skin beneath his touch. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he said, barely recognizing his own voice. Brynn cupped her full breasts, head thrown back against the side of the tub. “Fuck me with your fingers,” she whispered. “I need to come.” Her words drove Paul to the edge. He added a third finger inside Brynn’s swollen pussy, filling her. He laced his fingers together and made a twisting motion as Brynn’s muscles clenched down on him. He didn’t want to be gentle anymore, wasn’t even sure that he could. He just wanted to fuck Brynn—hard. He looked into Brynn’s half-closed eyes, searching for approval. “Are you sure you can take this?” Brynn nodded. “Oh yeah. I want it. Do it.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  His reaction made her smile. “Felt like getting an early start.” A broad, blond mustache covered his upper lip, slightly unkempt, and his cheeks were full. His hair was short, and he had a deep cleft in his broad chin. A waitress in her mid-thirties approached. She was kind of pretty in thick black-cat glasses. She had an Olive Oyl body that she carried with strange grace. “Well, as I live and breathe. How ya been, Dave darlin’?” His soft accent begat a warm drawl. “I been good Mary Jo. How ’bout you?” “Well, just dandy. Ain’t seen ya in ages.” “I had a run o’ work up and down California. Good to be on the east to west again. The folks is nicer.” He winked. Mary Jo pushed her pencil through her bright blonde hair, piled high enough to stretch a five-foot-seven frame to over six feet. “You want the usual, hon?” “You know what I like!” Mary Jo turned to Sarah. “And for your lady friend here?” “Just acquaintances. A cup of coffee, two poached eggs, and dry toast. Separate checks, please.” Mary Jo popped her gum. “Sure thing, hon.” She walked away. “That’s some plain eatin’, little lady.” Dave lifted his brow. “I like it fine.” Sarah felt a little defensive. She eyed Mary Jo. “Old friend?” “You meet a lot of people on the road. Some real fine people.” Dave’s eyes locked briefly on the waitress. “Your friendship extends beyond ham and eggs.” “Were that true, it would be none of your concern, little lady.” “My name’s Sarah, not ‘little lady.’” “Well, you ain’t big, Sarah.” Sarah collapsed her fingers over a swelling smile. “I’m a little chubby.” “You’re built like a woman.” Sarah pursed her lips. “You don’t like being a woman?” “I like being a woman just fine.” “Where you headed, little…Sarah?” “Idaho.” “Big place. Any spot in particular?” “Nampa.” “Nice town. I can take you as far as Winnemucca.” Dave pointed to a new, bright red Peterbilt semi with a sleeper outside the diner. Sarah had planned to find a Travelodge and a garage in the morning. But she was near broke; that’s why she was going back. It wouldn’t be her first hitchhike. “You think my car’s bad?” “It ain’t good.” Sarah knew it was true. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take that ride.” She eyed the big omelet with home fries and toast with cherry jam that Mary Jo set down in front of Dave. “I can pay.” She picked at her carefully chosen breakfast. Between orderly but ravenous bites from his plate, he said, “For what?” “The ride.” “No point. I’m already going that way.” When they left, Dave held the passenger door of his truck open. Sarah paused until he walked away from it. She climbed up and closed the door.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  We laughed and proceeded to feast while Teresa kept our glasses filled. Soon I didn’t mind the raging blizzard outside at all. Somehow the talk turned to sex, and I felt just like I did back in college when my roommate and I talked in hushed tones about blow jobs and such. Excited and not just a little embarrassed. When the second bottle of bubbly was uncorked, we moved closer to the woodstove. I spread one of the extra blankets on the floor, not sure why, but the carpet seemed cold and I was wanting cozy. As I tossed pillows from the sofa around the blanket, Teresa brought the bottle and the Whoopie pies over. For awhile we sat quietly sipping, aware there’d been a transition in mood as well as location. Teresa was the one to break the silence, of course, and she broke it with a sledgehammer. “Have you guys ever had sex with someone else?” I was dumbfounded, and for some reason first focused on the fact that Teresa always said “guys” even when she was referring to a group of all women. I wasn’t sure why she was asking, since she and I had talked a little about what our sex lives had been like before we’d gotten married. Tim stuttered out, “Well, of course we weren’t the first for each other.” “No, I mean have the two of you together ever had sex with someone else? You know. A threesome.” I decided that we must all be officially drunk now. Tim’s mouth was literally hanging open in that cartoon kinda way with his glass paused in midair. Oh great, I thought, he had been a good sport up to now, but I knew he was uncomfortable talking about sex and knew I’d hear about it later. But when he finally answered, I heard something new in his voice, and I watched in astonishment as he said, “No, we haven’t, not yet. Are you offering?” Was I hearing correctly? Had I had too much champagne? Had he? That’s when I saw Teresa looking at me intently, and I remembered how I felt when she stood at my shoulder by the stove. Oh shit. She was serious! Teresa laughed and poured us more champagne and unwrapped the Whoopie pies. I was glad of the chocolate cake and sticky sweet filling to distract us for awhile but couldn’t help but notice my arousal. I kept stealing glances at her, noticing her body as if for the first time. It’s not like I’ve never thought about being with a woman, but it was always in the abstract. I’ve never actually contemplated touching a woman’s body in a sexual way, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it now.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  But, I wanted more. I pulled him up so I could look at him, and he was smiling like a very happy boy. “Blakey, please stop teasing me. I need you.” “Sorry, but it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to do this. You’ll give me a little latitude, won’t you?” He was half on top of me, kissing me deep on the mouth. His fingers danced over my taut nipple, barely grazing over it. His hand seemed so big gripping my hip, pulling me close. My hands cradled his face as I tried to hold on to the moment for as long as I could. I ran my finger over his mouth, and he caught it between his lips, sucking it into his mouth. My stomach rolled over, and a new wash of heat ran through me. His face dropped from my hands, and he kissed down my neck. Every inch of my skin caught on fire, each little kiss, lick starting a new blaze. I clawed at his hair, urging him forward, pushing him further down my body. But, again, Blake would not be rushed. His mouth again latched on to my nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth, flicking it over and over with his tongue. Arching my back, I tried to get more. All I could think was that I needed more. More of anything that Blake wanted to give to me. The heat of his mouth was joined by his slow, tracing fingers moving up my thigh. I could feel the gentle tremble of my leg under his touch every time he got nearer to my pussy. He seemed to be purposefully avoiding my most sensitive skin, teasing me with little touches everywhere else. He pushed my legs apart, and I felt his fingers moving closer and closer to my cunt. Moans were escaping my throat, his mouth moving back and forth over my nipples, teasing one and then the other until I was ready to scream. “Blake, I can’t take much more of this.” “Just a little bit longer, I promise.” His mouth covered mine, stopping any more words from getting out. His finger had finally found my slick heat, and my hard clit was sliding under his soft touch. The small circles teased my clit until I found my hips moving along, trying to get Blake to go faster. But, he kept going at the maddeningly slow pace, his eyes watching my face. “God, you are so beautiful when you are excited, do you know that?” I could only manage to shake my head no, as no words were possible at that moment. His words were tearing at my brain, making my chest flush with renewed heat. His finger slipped down past my clit and entered me, opening my pussy up for the first time. The flat of his palm grazed my clit, with each slide in and out. “Open your eyes. Please, Daisy, open your eyes.”