Today’s letter is I for imagination and it forms part of my WipitUp Wednesday post too.
Fiction is all about imagining the make-believe, conjuring up fantasies and putting words to them. These scenes could be my fantasies, although I’m not a bottomless pit of ideas, so I also try to imagine what other people might fantasize about and want to read when they seek out an erotic book.
Then, within the story, there are the fantasies of our characters. They imagine things too, often taboo. Naughty, kinky, sexy – things they have no experience of, but desire, or perhaps, it is something they’ve done in the past and wish to repeat….
He drifted in a dreamy state, picturing her lying across his lap, her pelvis resting on his thighs, the sight of her quivering bottom and another virgin territory to plunder. He imagined exploring her rump as if he was witnessing it for the first time: its milky white flesh, soft when squeezed by his fingertips and deliciously broad in girth, before tapering into her narrow waist.
The fantasy continued to weave in his mind: he would raise up his right hand, wait to hear her take a sharp intake of breath, then watch his hand bounce off a rotund cheek—a moderate slap, but sufficient to make her jump. He would smack her arse until the skin turned from translucent pink to a fiery red. However, not inconsiderate of her discomfort, he would delight in rubbing the marks with his palm, blurring the redness into her natural flesh colour.
The sight of her imaginary soaked pussy re-awakened his cock and stiffened it into a rod. The temptation grew—the desire to part her cheeks and inspect her sex. He grunted, swept back the covers and hurried to position her legs.
That scene came from my latest release – Viola’s Heart Strings – where the widower, Anton, has recently remarried and is struggling to keep his secret desires in check.
After a whirlwind courtship in Monaco, innocent Viola falls in love and marries enigmatic Sir Anton Valise. Following their honeymoon in France, she begins a new life at his estate in Dorset, England. Anton’s need for passionate, dominant love-making is haunted by memories of his first wife, Margot, and he fears his new wife will falter in her love for him if she does not remain obedient. To keep her loyal, the baronet introduces rules to aid Viola’s submission but suppresses his desire to spank her when she errs.
With nobody to befriend or trust, the lonely Viola overhears the hushed conversations of the servants discussing the beautiful Margot, whom died in mysterious circumstances, and she discovers secret rooms in the house, which unearth a side of Anton she had not imagined.
Viola fears Anton will never cease loving Margot and she is determined to keep him happy. Whenever Anton dominates her in the bedroom, she fantasizes about his wish to spank her, and it rouses her craving to submit to increasingly erotic sex until eventually, she commits an error of judgment and Anton is forced to impose his discipline upon her.
With tension between the couple rising, Anton and Viola’s relationship reaches a crisis point leading to Viola discovering a past filled with lies and pretences, above and below stairs.
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