In honour of my friend Olivia Knight's new website, I'm posting a portion of Chapter 11 of 'Wild Card'. This long chapter is divided into sections, so the reader goes from one main character to antother, to the third and fourth main characters, who are together. All of them are engaged in some kind of sexual act. Hot little chapter, that one, not easy to write.
Lonnie, the Hong Kong Bombshell who loves exhibitionism, and Ray, our handsome Canadian communist who works for the good of the people by day and seduces women by night, are touring London from a limosene.
Somewhere in here are the 200 words that won Scarlet Magazine's 'Best Oral Sex Scene' 2007:
Ray glanced to his left and right, taking in the view. From his position, feet wide apart on the upholstered leather bench-seat and his chest and head emerging from the open sunroof, he had a bird's eye view of London on a sunny day. If he looked straight down the view wasn't bad, either – Lonnie delicately lapping at his manhood like it was a Popsicle in danger of melting.
He wasn't in danger of melting at all, nor was he in danger of exploding. He felt he could endure this forever. Not that her ministrations weren't pleasurable. They were – excruciatingly so. It was just that everything was so terrific he was determined to do all he could to make it last.
There'd been that moment, after she'd arranged him the way she wanted him and then unzipped him, when he'd realized with a simultaneously gladdening of the heart and disappointment of the mind, that she was very talented at oral sex. Happily, Ray no longer took any notice of the dampening of his spirits that threatened to come with the reptilian understanding that she'd done this many times before. He chose to resolutely focus on the joy a man knows when he can tell from the confidence of the girl's seeking tongue and the gentle way she uses her lips to protect him from her teeth that he is in the hands – or mouth - of an expert.
She was doing that little 'play me like a flute' thing she'd done with her toes, in the restaurant, only this time she was using her fingers so it was that even more delicate and delightful. He felt a warming spasm in his gut and focused on the Palace again.
She was clever, this Bai Lon from Hong Kong. Somehow she'd guessed that he'd find the trappings of royalty a perfect juxtaposition to fellatio in a limousine. On such a beautiful day it was great to be in his shoes, the wind in his hair and his pants to his knees, enjoying Lonnie's touch and lips, as satiny smooth and flitting as the wings of a butterfly. Life couldn't get much better, and Ray was enough of a sensualist and self-disciplinarian to strive to make the moment last.
Interesting, the way once he'd actually emerged through the opening in the roof he found it more liberating than embarrassing. It was true, just as Lonnie had promised, that he felt safe and anonymous in a 'look at me I'm a tourist' sort of way. He was ignored for the most part, likely assumed to be drunk by anyone who bothered to assume anything. The limo was going fast enough for him to feel anonymous and slow enough to feel safe and there was the added bonus of seeing the landmarks of London at a more accelerated pace than a bus tour could possibly provide. He'd never actually bothered to tour London before.
Ray sighed as Lonnie stroked him with both hands. She'd lubed him with a cool, sweet smelling lotion from a bottle that she'd pulled from that trunk-like purse of hers. He made a mental note never to tease a woman about the size of her purse again.
They were passing the Palace gates now. Ray waved at the guardsmen. He wondered how many people waved at them every day, what it was like to stand there without acknowledging him, knowing that he was getting a fantastic blow job while they were left behind, eating his limo dust.
Ray shuddered as Lonnie stroked him for a dozen slow along-the-top-and-over-the-head-and-down-the-underside-of-the-shaft-and-then-back-again strokes. Fantastic. She was so good at everything so far that he felt like he was falling in love.
Ray looked down at her. The whole 'you're too big for delicate little me' gambit was oddly moving, given that there was very little chance it was true. She gazed up at him, her eyes wide and her lips pursed in a classic porn face. He might have to marry this girl if this kept up. 'Suck me,' he whispered.
Lonnie licked her lips and opened her mouth wide, in a perfect circle. Ray was sure he could fit in there. When she put her lips around him it was like being taken into a tunnel sheathed in wet red velvet. Her tongue was alive, tasting his maleness, teasing it like a tiny, dancing cave courtesan. Ray tilted his hips, slipping an inch further into her mouth. They moaned in unison and he tried to turn his attention back to the scenery.
They were past the Palace now. He couldn't concentrate on the view. Her mouth was luscious and her lips and tongue so soft against his rigidity. He felt his balls tighten. It would be so easy, so easy to let her carry him along in the stream of her passion. He remembered the little orgasm she'd elicited from him using only her feet. What would this one be like if he went with it, too, the way he'd gone with her foot play?
She moaned softly. The sound waves made his skin tingle. He was so sensitive to her every move it was if he were two men, one watching and one experiencing what the other watched.
Ray focused on a stand of trees. He tried to wonder what they were called. Plane trees? It was no use. Lonnie was holding him in her mouth now, laving the head of his cock with her lips and tongue.
He experimented, tilting his hips again to introduce another inch into her mouth. He didn't want to make her gag, not by any means, but he did want to see how much of him she could take, and it seemed she could take more than enough.
A kite was successfully launched in a nearby park and, as the speck of bright red rose into the sky, Ray allowed himself to relax. He quit tensing and let Lonnie's talented mouth envelop and release him while her fingers stroked him toward the coming climax.
She kept him afloat until the current of her passion carried him over the edge. He chose to look straight up, at the dazzling blue sky dotted with a few uncharacteristically fluffy white clouds and one tiny, soaring red kite.
'God!' he bellowed as the first spasm rocked him. He slapped him hands down on the roof of the limo to steady himself. She was sucking him dry, the bitch!
He wanted to tell the driver to go back so he could announce himself to the Palace as 'King Fuck!' but he didn't. Instead he pointed at the sky and yelled 'Fantastic!' so anyone looking at him, and people were looking at him, would think he was remarking on the blue sky or the red kite and not on the orgasm that was bolting through him in a rocking, rhythmical way that threatened to make him pass out.
He didn't, of course. When the spasms stopped he slid out of her mouth and down from the sunroof and onto the seat. He stretched out on it, zipping himself. 'You are so good, it's just, it's almost too much,' he moaned.
'It's fun, isn't it, to have people look at you when you come?'
'It was a thrill, I admit it.' He grinned at her. She kissed him on the mouth, letting his tongue part her lips and find hers. Their first kiss. It burned his mouth like candy cinnamon hearts.
'My turn,' said Lonnie.
- Madeline Moore
- Toronto, Ontario, Canada
- Wild Card, 2006. Winner of "best oral sex scene" - Scarlet Magazine. Amanda's Young Men, 2009. Excerpted in Scarlet Magazine; Juicy Bits. Sarah's Education, 2009. Hit the #1 spots on Amazon.co.uk adult fiction & adult romance best seller lists. Jade Magazine bestowed the best cover art, 2009 award on Sarah's Education. "Get Up, Stand Up!" which appeared in The Cougar Book (Logical-Lust) won me the title 'Story Teller of the Year 2011' at The Erotic Awards, London, UK. Sarah's Education took the #3 spot on a list of the 30 most titillating titles of all time, as reported in English Daily Mail ;Female; Nov. 12, 2012. Debutante, a petite novel for e-publisher Imprint Mischief, (Harper-Collins) pubbed in 2012. I tutor writing students and am a member of the WGC. D.M. Thomas said: Madeline Moore writes great sex without metaphor and that's not easy to do. Kris Saknussemm said: You're a good egg, Madeline Moore. I am a good egg who writes great sex without metaphor! Yippee!