FORBIDDEN FRUIT FRIDAY
The Delicious Toe Cramp
I don’t know if this happens to you but when I watch a love scene, my toes move independently of my body.
The big toe starts everything off.
It takes on a slow tremble, as if my foot is being tickled every so lightly. This tremble triggers a domino effect with the other toes until they all soon are doing little bouts of a happy day. They stick close together, moving in unison, looking like little “Rockette” toes. Oddly enough, my pinky toe stays stationary and throws the entire choreography out of whack. Isn’t that strange? Seems like the piggy that went wee wee wee all the way home isn’t very responsive nowadays.
Now, the longer the love scene plays out, a new phase of the performance happens.
A sensation washes over me, like someone sprayed a fine mist of liquid on my skin to spark a little sting and envelope me with a tantalizing rush. Suddenly, the once close-knit family of toes begins to spread apart. They move away from each other and before you know it, they are no longer moving in a cute uniformed display...they’re freakishly independent, almost alien-like. And just like how it all started, the big toe triggers the moment, curling under and creating this painful yet delicious toe cramp.
Don’t get me wrong- not any love scene will cause this delicious toe cramp. It has to be a union that is oozing with emotion.
Notice I said emotion?
I know what boy and girl parts look like and how they fit together. For me, passion unfolding in a look, a kiss or a whisper during the act is sexier than showing the act itself. Scenes of quiet ecstasy are my favorite. Watching two lovers melt into one another for the first time- to the point where no words are needed, where bodies tremble, flesh aches and the entire world recedes into nothingness is the ultimate thrill. Sometimes the emotion of the scene is so intense that my mind wanders, what are they thinking? The physical satisfaction is one thing….but how it is affecting their psyche is quite another.
Take a look at what I mean. You may think, “bad kissers”, but if you think about it, was the powerful lust, the want and craving for each other so bad that once they began experiencing each other, it was almost too much to bear? You be the judge (oh, don’t mind the creepy ass girl in the background)
What do you think? Warrant a toe curl?
And knowing that this entire toe cramp production can happen from just watching a love scene, just imagine what happens when I am writing a scene – one where I can explore both the physical and mental power of the lustful union .
Here's a diary excerpt from Flesh Fantasy
With force, Rhys pinned me against the door. My back and head took the brunt of the force, stinging just a bit, but I loved it. He pressed me against the door harder and lifted my entire body up, my back sliding effortlessly against the cold metal frame.
And then his mouth was on mine.
Remnants of the exotic tobacco lingered in his breath. His tongue pushed against my lips, begging for entry. I parted slowly, but his mouth buried into me farther. I opened wider, letting him taste me. He was so hungry, his lustful appetite surpassing anyone other man I had ever been with. The growl returned, resonating deep within his chest and releasing in my mouth. It was absolutely raw and consuming.
There was absolutely no doubt in my mind. He was the one.
For all the times I intended to do every naughty thing imaginable with my prize, I had always stopped short of delving in entirely. Call it demanding, obsessed…hell, categorize it as a disorder. All I knew was that my “perfect man” list still resided in my mind. Even though the men were hand-selected on some sort of worthiness basis, I still wanted all of my wishes on sexual encounters to measure up to expectation.
And for me, everything lay in the kiss.
No man, no matter how good-looking, suave, or utterly yummy, ever had the ability to fulfill my need to be consumed beyond reality with just a kiss.
I was inebriated, riding on a crest of a sexual high that consumed every bit of me. The longer he kissed me, lapping me up in a ravenous frenzy, the longer he infiltrated my entire system. Although he was something of a fantasy, a desire that I hoped to encounter during one of our games, I wasn’t quite prepared for Rhys.
He was unexpected. He was dangerous. Rhys Matthews. He was a drug.
“Rain.” His breath was erratic when he broke from my mouth. The way he said my name, with his accent, was almost enough to send my body over the edge. “Rain, I can’t take you in some dark room in a club.”
“Why not? I have protection.”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it then?”
“You are a woman that I want to take my time with. I want my worship on your body to be methodical, drawn out and ritualistic.”
“Then take me to your place,” I whimpered.
“I live in the Springs, honey. And I already promised my loft upstairs to Steffan and Madeline.”
“Shit! I live in the Springs, too! Motel, perhaps?”
“No,” Rhys protested.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness. I could make out the faint outline of Rhys’s face, knowing his eyes were on me when he cupped my face with both hands and spoke.
“I don’t want to belittle the ceremony I intended to carry out on your body in some random motel. You deserve the best—opulence, extravagance, overindulgence—” Rhys paused, leaning closer to my face. “I want to fuck until we can’t see straight.”
About Maya DeLeina
Maya is a multi-published Erotic Vampire Author with Siren, Evernight, Ellora's Cave and Mystic Lotus Publishing.
Maya was born and raised on the beautiful and romantic beaches of
. Relocating to Oahu, Hawaii , Maya's crystal blue oceans and powdery white sands were traded for enchanting forests, mystic mountains and golden plains of promise. Colorado
Living just on the outskirts of Manitou Springs, the town's history of spiritual healing, eclectic flare, fabled underground tunnels and rumored lore of wizardry and witchcraft rekindled Maya's love for the paranormal, metaphysical and most of all, vampires.
One bite and she was hooked.
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