A little sharing never hurt..

I am asked where my inspiration comes from.  How do I capture the passion?  How do I create such "booty call" inspiring passages?  By working smarter, not harder.  My favorite authors do this very thing and do it well.  I read and re-read my favorite books.  Often I am moved in a different direction each time.  The end result is always my work but the inspiration is stolen.  Here is a passage from a book from my favorite author.  I think after I read it, somebodies phone was ringing...and no I wasn't ordering a pizza.

ENJOY~

     Some time goes by.  Some talking.  At some point I hold her.  Touch her.  And that naughty grin blooms on her face.  The one that starts in the left corner of her mouth, and expands with desire.  We lay back under the covers.  And we explore each other. The magic is always there.  The chemistry remains so strong.
     I put my mouth on her breast, a hand between her legs, tell her, "You're wet."
     Her bracelets jingle as she moves me up and down.  "I know."
     "When did you get wet?"
     "When you opened the door.  How many times do I have to tell you that you have this effect on me?"
     "Thought you were mad."
     "I might get mad, might scream and shout and hit upside the head with a pot, but Bermuda is never, never mad at you, don't you know that?  She always welcomes you."
     I kiss her.  Touch her.
     She says, "Seven years and I still excite you?"
     "Just like you did the Jeep."
     Her tongue traces from my chest until the heat from her mouth consumes that growing part of me.  She used to afraid to do that, now she won't stop unitl I beg for mercy.
     She stops savoring, stares at my handle with studious eyes, "Hard to believe all of this goes in me."
     We turn, and like cats, we do each other at the same time, slow and easy.
     Her tongue traces up and down as she moans.  "You are the pussy-eating king, you know that?"
    "Why, thank you."
    "You always give me honeymoon sex."
     I look at Bermuda. Talk to her. Touch her. Taste her. I love her aroma on my face.
     Nicole shudders.  "Ooooo.  You're making Bermuda quiver."
     My phone rings again.  We're too busy pleasing each other to stop.
     She pulls her locks and squirms.  "I want you on top of me."
     I say, "French.  Ask me in French."
     "Baise moi, Oooo baby. Baise moi."
     The phone rings again.
     Nicole bucks, pulls me deeper inside her, slaps my ass in a steady rhythm, chants how much she wants me, needs me, loves me.

• Dickey, Eric Jerome.  "Chapter 7, page 67 & 68."  Between Lovers. New York: Dutton, 2001. Print.

I enjoy multi-lingual cunnilingus.. and in French no less...  ROTF..

Good Night!