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All she knew was she had to have Cleveland inside her and fast.She took the condom from his hands. “Allow me,” she said as she pushed him on his back, then straddled his hard body. Freddie stroked his thick erection back and forth.“Miss Barker, you can do whatever you want to do,” he said with a sly smile.Freddie rolled the sheath into place then she guided him to where she needed him most. At first, it was a tight fit because it had been so long since she had been with a man and Cleveland was all man, thick and long. For a moment, it felt as if it was going to be too much for her to handle, but Cleveland shifted his hips and it was a perfect fit.He groaned as Freddie rode him slowly. Her intensity was building as they ground against each other and then it was as if she was possessed. She bucked like a stallion, grasping his shoulders as he pressed deeper and deeper into her wetness.“Oh, Freddie,” he exclaimed. “Damn.”She felt as if she was about to climax, but Cleveland wasn’t finished with her. He flipped her over on to her back, taking control of their rendezvous. Freddie arched her back, pressing her hips into his and matching him thrust for thrust until they were both spent from the experience. Collapsing in each other’s arms, they both exhaled. Freddie glanced at Cleveland, his eyes were half closed and he had a satisfied smile on his lips.
So which do you prefer (in books, that is): lovemaking or sexing?Imani nodded, slowly feeling the tension easing from her shoulder. Raymond pushed the straps of her dress down her shoulders, kissing the skin he exposed. Imani shivered with desire as his tongue eased down the back of her neck. With his free hand, he unzipped her dress and it fell off her body, pooling at her feet. Raymond spun her around and drank in her image. She was clad in a pink lace strapless bra that held her breasts the way he wanted to and a pair of matching lace panties that clung to her hips and behind. Raymond ran his hand down the center of her chest, stopping at the waistband of her panties.“May I?” he asked.She nodded nervously. He pulled her panties around her ankles, then slipped his hand between her thighs. Imani was wet, hot and waiting. “I want to taste you,” he said, salivating at the thought of wrapping his lips around her bud. Raymond scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He could feel Imani’s heart beating in overdrive. “Are you all right?” he asked again.“I can’t lie, I’m a little nervous,” she said as he laid her in the center of his king sized bed.“We can stop.”“We haven’t even started,” she said.“If you’re ready, I know how I want to start,” he said as he slowly spread her thighs apart. With the palm of his hand, he stroked her wetness back and forth. Imani squirmed under his touch. Her body seemed to take on a life of its on, responding to Raymond’s touch in ways she never imagined that she could do. Easing between her thighs, he parted her wet lips with his fingertips, then gently licked the folds of flesh until Imani’s moans turned into screams of passion. “Raymond, Raymond,” she cried as he sucked her throbbing bud of desire. She was so sweet, so delicious. Better than he’d dreamed she would be. He licked and sucked until she trembled and exploded in his mouth. Propping up on his elbows, he looked into Imani’s sated face. “How do you feel?” he asked.
Just like Denise and, I'm sure, a whole host of other authors, I have a day job, a regular 9 to 5, or rather 6 to 5. When I get home from work, I'm back on the computer but mainly doing promotions. I answer e-mails. Sometimes I plot out my next book. Rarely to I write on my current WIP (work in progress).
"So when do you write, Bridget?"
How did I know you would ask that? I do a lot of my writing on the weekends. I drag my laptop onto my lap (laptop tray underneath, of course) and I sit in bed and I write. The pros of writing in bed is that I'm comfortable. I have what I need all around me. I get inspired easier in bed. The con, a rather big con, is that when I get sleepy, and let's face it. Who wouldn't writing in bed? I tend to take a lot of naps. Just push my laptop to the side and get snuggly under my blankets.
So after my nap(s) -- don't judge me -- I get down to writing. I have my notes next to me. For novels, I do a chapter-by-chapter basic outline. I write key points I want to see happen in a story.
Before that, I do a full character outline. Even if I don't use it, I write out the characters' full names. I write down where they live. What they look like. If I'm inspired by a celebrity, I write down that celebrity's name. Then I write down the charcters' internal and external conflicts. Those are what propel my stories. If you ever hear an author say that they have writer's block, the problem is that the conflict(s) is/are not strong enough to push the story along. Yeah, it hurt me when someone told that to me. But I realized it was the truth.
Anyway, so I write all day and sometimes all night into the early morning. I write until I get to a good spot or when my wrists hurt. Whichever comes first. I keep that up until I finally writh "The End." After that, I push the story aside for a few days, maybe even a week or so, then I come back to it and reread it again to edit it.
Once I submit the story, it's off on to the next one. I know of other authors who are able to write more than one story at the same time. I'm not one of those people. I can't mix all of those voices in my head. Call me simple. That's just how I roll.
Speaking of rolling, I have to go now. The books won't write themselves.
Stay sexy,
BridgeT
http://www.BridgetMidway.com/