"What the f%&* is this about???"

That review is too the point, isn't it? Confession: Barnes & Noble baffles me with their review policy. Readers can post reviews with no text, or 1-star reviews like this one, the body of which reads, simply:

"What the f%&* is this about???"
????????

I *do* appreciate that the review is for Kiss My Ass, as that is the instant response that comes to my mind.

Currently, we're working on our 4th installment of our "Annual Anal Erotica" series. (Got it right that time, didn't I?) My piece is almost done. Like, almost-almost. I can taste it...

Dave returns with the merlot and he leans in to me slightly, his hips bumping mine as he moves behind the bar. Our eyes meet. I think of the way his cock feels in my mouth, the rounded tip, the sweet thick shaft.

I wonder what Lexi would say if she knew I’ve tasted her juices on Dave’s cock. It’s almost like I’ve fucked her. She’s got a bite to her sweetness. A sharp flavor that suits her. She pretends she’s a pussycat, but she’s all barracuda beneath the skin.

The bar is bustling. Dave is hustling. Lexi perches and flirts and twitters. I enjoy the view, thinking of all those girls before her. Thinking of all those girls who will snag that seat in the future. I’m not jealous. I’m not the type. But when Dave refills my glass, he says, “You know what that girl needs?”

“An asswhooping,” I say, and he grins and nods. He’s got a shadow going. I love the way those whisper-whiskers feel when they graze my skin.

“You up for it?” he asks me, and my cock gets hard.

On top of working on the anal, I'm proofing the galleys for Morning, Noon, and Night. You know how I said I was enamored of the names the writer used in his missive yesterday? ("Check out the different ways he addresses her: Fair Deceiver. Woman. Girlie.")

Well, as I was re-reading my gang-bang story last night, I caught this line:

Next up? The bartender. He's young yet, and baby-faced. He thinks he's all that and a bag of chips. Why shouldn't he? The girlies in town take their turns riding his cock and his pretty blond mustache. But we're going to age him tonight.

I did a quick count, and I have a slew of "girlies" on my hard drive, like this one:

“I’m sorry, Mr. Johnson,” I managed. my ass was throbbing. I had a difficult time thinking through the red haze. “I didn’t mean to be such a brat for you.”

“Liar. You most absolutely did. But Mr. Johnson works just fine. We’ll go with that for the time being.”

He gave my a ferocious series of lashings before returning to the leather case and pulling out the butt plug once more. “I was going to go so nice and easy on you,” he said sadly. “I was going to lube you up and let you slip this in yourself. I could have gotten off by watching. Sitting in the chair across from you and observing as you slowly screwed the plug into that tight hole of yours. Now, we’ll do things a different way. Open wide, girlie.”


I just fucking love that word for some reason. The way I love my catchphrase of the day: "What the f%&* is this about???" Heh.

XXX,
Alison