I'm thrilled to be one of the hosts for the blog tour for Lapiz Lazuli - enjoy! (what a fabulous book cover!)
Lapiz Lazuli – The Leigh Clark Collection
From fetishistic and rough,
to sapphic or sweet, this anthology of eight hand-picked dirty stories spans
the whole erotica range.
If stories of frantic,
sensual lovemaking excite you, Lapiz Lazuli is guaranteed to grab your
attention. These short stories explore the sensual delights of sex; whether it
is a quick romp in a hallway, the caress of a razorblade, the helpless
sensation of rough sex or a furtive public holiday experience, arousing
accounts and unabashed tales of kinky sex await!Available from:
*****
Lapiz Lazuli
The day’s first customers were a pair of
forty-something women, sisters from the look of them, one heading for the
airport after a visit—you can always tell out-of-towners by their clothes. I
was still pinning on my ‘Caroline’ badge when they walked in. Nobody calls me
Caroline but it’s company policy to have full names on badges—I’m Carrie to my
friends, I made their skinny
macchiatos and half-listened in to them as I continued setting the counter up
for the commuter rush.
“It was lovely to see you,” said the one with
the city clothes. “But it will be nice to have the place to ourselves again.”
Out-of-town sister scowled. “I didn’t realise I
was such a bad guest.”
“Honey, you’re not. But tonight, me and Tom …
well, we want our privacy.” Town-sister played with a chunky lapis lazuli and
silver ring on a chain around her neck. She looked good for her age, and happy
with it.
Out-of-town smiled. “After six years, are you
two still romping?”
“Six years last month and still spending as much
time in bed as out of it. Look what he gave me for our anniversary.” Town
sister held out the ring.
“Very … pretty.”
I could tell out-of-town was as unimpressed as
me. Cheap gift or what?
“The chain’s platinum,” said townie, looking
smug. “But the ring … now that’s the best gift I’ve ever had.”
She so wanted her sister to ask why, and I so
wanted to hear the answer, that I nearly asked her myself.
“Why?” said out-of-town.
“Well …” town-girl leaned over the table and I
had to strain my ears to hear. “I wouldn’t tell anybody else this, but I’ve
always told you everything … I like a little pain with my pleasure. Know what I
mean?”
Out-of-town looked puzzled, but I knew what she
meant, did I ever!
“You know!” Town-sister blushed. “A little slap,
a little bite, something to push you over the edge into …” She put her hand on
her chest, fingers splayed, and threw her head back, panting. It was a pretty
good impression of orgasm I’ll admit – very When Harry Met Sally. Now her
sister blushed and laughed.
Town sister continued, “Well Tom doesn’t like to
hurt me, but he sure likes to make me happy, that kind of happy. So this ring,
see, with all its bumps and lumps? Well when I wear it around my neck, Tom
knows that the same evening I’m going to slide it onto his finger and he’s
going to press it against my …” she paused and lowered her voice even more. “…
my love button, when we make love.”
Love button! It was all I could do not to laugh
out loud. Did people still talk like that? But I looked at that ring, with its
deep blue knobbly surface and imagined how cold it must be, and how hard, and
my knees became so weak I had to hang on to the counter.
The sisters left, chatting and laughing, and the
morning coffee addicts began to roll in, but I didn’t forget what I’d heard.
That weekend I took Doug shopping at the Flea
Market.
“What are we doing here, Carrie?” he asked,
looking at the stalls. But I’d already seen what I wanted on a table laden with
semi-precious stones and costume jewellery. A big ring, with a greeny-grey,
nubby, softly-contoured stone that the seller told me was moss agate. It fit
Doug’s middle finger perfectly.
