I have not been lazy though. My duties at eSensual Books are keeping me very busy. You can read all about it in our blog here. So many exciting new things happening, it is difficult to keep it all sorted!
And dont forget there is still time to submit your sexiest audio stories to a new Call for Submissions. Talk Dirty to Me is a unique audio only antholgy, edited by Essemoh Teepee and myself.. Please read more about the details here.
As with everything, my life seems to be divided in half. I live in the States and I live in the UK. I have an identity as mother, daughter, sister, friend, and a separate identity in which I write, record, and manage a business that is mostly kept separate from my real life. I write about characters that exist only in a novel, but after spending sometimes months with them inside my head, it is difficult to admit they are not real. Sometimes after a while has passed since a new release, I actually even miss them!
Fantasy and reality have a way of crashing gears, sometimes when they merge it is fabulous, until the moment comes where you shake your head like a wet dog and remind yourself it is not real. Sometimes you just have to leave it in a little box and take it out for a visit. Ah, but, that is the price of a vivid imagination and as I have noted before, my family often says, “I don’t know what world you grew up in, but I don’t remember it like you do.”
As complicated as it might seem to operate in different worlds, I wouldn’t trade it. The imagination is an incredible tool to assist in your journey through life and the brain cannot tell the difference between a vividly imagined daydream and a real life experience. Try experiencing the intense pleasure that Directed Erotic Visualisation© gives and you will understand.
Today, I am missing Callista and her beloved Professor Anbu. The third in the Research Series, Academic Research is well underway and I look forward to see where their crazy adventures will lead this time. I have included an excerpt from Captivating Research to remind you and give us all something to look forward to in the New Year when Academic Research is released. Enjoy!
Callista gave the looking glass one last glance. She felt like a Princess. All of her life she’d dreamed of dancing at the ball with her Prince, and tonight, she would have the chance. The vivid scarlet dress threw extra colour into her subtly made up face and it appeared as though she had a continual blush. The long lean column of silk clung to her every curve, the flared bottom tickling her ankles as she moved. The scoop neck was on the demure side but the bra pushed her ample cleavage high – at least my shoulders and knees are covered—Callista wanted to make a good impression on the Consul General, Anbu had said he was a close relative of the Sultan. She wanted to show him her respect and that she was as much a professional as Anbu. She knew women in this region were often treated like second class citizens but she would not be just the assistant this time! Certainly Anbu had invited her as a colleague as well as a lover. He may be more experienced, but I am certainly as capable. STOP! Her brain was twisting again. Now was not the time to pick an imaginary fight with Anbu. They had a special evening ahead and she needed to be on her best behaviour.
Looking in the mirror one last time, she turned to check the timepiece on the nightstand.
* * *
Anbu glanced at his watch; six fifty-nine, where the hell is she? It was not like Callista to be late.
“Bruna, would you like to check on our friend and see what is keeping her?”
“She will be here Master, relax.” Anbu shot his shirt cuffs from his sleeves, straightening the gleaming gold cufflinks at his wrist. He ran a finger over the abstract design, remembering the day Halgan had given them to him. They had been her father’s, a gift from a Christian missionary travelling through their village in Somalia before the troubles. He had been lying alongside her slender body in his hotel bed, sated from hours of lovemaking, holding each other and talking. Halgan had told him her father had acted as an interpreter for the missionary, protecting him from falling foul of fundamentalist hotheads. The links had been the only item of value her family had preserved when they fled to the camps. The day after she had given them to him she was dead, his Halgan, killed because of her love for him… Not tonight Anbu, too much is riding on this evening. Stay focused.
“I guess I shall have to go get her…” Anbu snapped back to reality to find Piers, his jaw slack and mouth gaping, and Bruna with a secret smile on her lips, their attention drawn to the staircase.
Callista manoeuvred the wide, sweeping curve of stairs like a debutante at her coming out ball. The crimson silk moved with her, clinging to her voluptuous body as though it couldn’t bear to be parted from her soft skin. Her head was erect, her neck long, her body language open and relaxed. Anbu remembered the nervous young ingénue he met in a café a few short months ago and a strangled sob choked in his throat. My god she is stunning. No wonder that damn masseur couldn’t keep his hands off her.
Piers stepped to the bottom of the stair case and extended his hand. “Ms Makris, you are breath-taking.”
“Thank you, Piers and please, call me Callista.” Anbu watched her smile sweetly and take a deep breath, pushing her breasts practically into Piers’ face before stepping into the foyer.
“Like a goddess, Chica. You look so powerful.” Bruna gave her friend a clandestine wink.
“Thank you Bruna. You look absolutely stunning.”
Anbu looked at the two women side by side, Bruna’s risqué gold dress had been altered to include a sheer drape of chiffon that covered her arms and shoulders and brought the hemline just below her knees. The added modesty did not detract from the pure sex that Bruna exuded from every pore. Callista was elegant and demure, the cut of the costly designer gown emphasising her delicious shape to full advantage without being overtly sexy. But Anbu knew beneath that demure look lay a boiling tempest of sexual energy. Pretty on the outside, dirty on the inside…
“Professor, if I may say so, none of the girls in the richest sheik’s harem will compare to the beauty of these fine ladies. I do believe you will be the most envied man at the reception.”
“Thank you Piers, I am a very lucky man indeed.” Anbu realised the truth of his words as he spoke. Maybe he had taken his fortuitous circumstances for granted lately. The last few weeks he had been busy preparing for this trip and contemplating his future. The attention and willingness of these women had made him feel the world was at his feet. He understood now that instead of paying attention to their needs, he had been pondering how much more there was for him to discover. His emotions and libido had been locked away by guilt and memories for so long. Now that he was free, he wanted to explore those possibilities. Well, tonight will be all about them.
Anbu stepped between the two women taking the arm of each and escorted them to the waiting helicopter. The breeze was still warm from the blazing day as the trio strolled to aircraft waiting for them. Callista wanted to pinch herself and glanced over at Bruna, who had her head up, looking every inch as though this was her birth right. Damn, she is gorgeous…
Anbu checked to see that they were both belted into the rear seats securely and gave them each a kiss on the cheek as he settled headphones onto their heads before clambering in beside the pilot. She saw his eyes darting about, taking in the controls and glowing instruments as the pilot started the engine and wound the rotor up for take-off. Callista would have preferred to sit beside Anbu and snuggle. Boys will play with toys…
The short flight swept them over Dubai and across the nearby border into Oman. Anbu’s crackling voice in their ears recited the rules as the aircraft circled above the Consul General’s private palace.
“No drugs, no intoxication, no overt sexuality. Do not wander off…”
“Yes, Master.” Callista snapped into her microphone, trying to curtail his laundry list of rules. “Shall we check in with you before we visit the loo as well?
“Don’t be crass, it doesn’t become you. It would be unwise to display such impudence with our host and his guests. I don’t plan on straying far from either of you tonight.”
“Oh and what’s the special occasion?” Callista hated to be snide but she didn’t need Anbu treating her like a child. Anbu twisted in his seat and looked over his shoulder at the two women. Callista thought he looked contrite.
“I suppose I deserve that. I know I have been somewhat preoccupied lately, but tonight we will all enjoy the evening together.”
“Master, will you dance with me?” Bruna’s big dark eyes pleaded with him like a child asking for candy before supper.
“Bruna, it is not that kind of a party, more of a reception, partly in our honour. Play the game, nod and smile. Speak when you are spoken to.”
“Oh great, so it will be boring!”
“Bruna, things are rarely boring when you are around, you seem to have fun wherever you go. Just try to stay out of jail okay?”
The pilot expertly wound the helicopter down to land close beside a sparkling white limousine that was waiting to take them the short distance to their host’s gleaming palace bathed in golden light from powerful spotlights hidden in the lush landscaped grounds.
Anbu helped them both from the aircraft and into the car. He raised Bruna’s hand to his lips and kissed it soundly. “Be good little girl for me, just this once?”
The Brazilian smiled and batted her eyelashes. Callista looked at Anbu; his white dinner jacket highlighted his coffee coloured skin, the crisp bowtie, the intricate cufflinks, his perfectly pressed black trousers and polished shoes made for a delicious package of Anbu. She thought he looked like someone out of a James Bond movie, maybe even the legendary man himself and she giggled at her fanciful thoughts.
“What is so amusing, Callista?” Anbu turned his attention on Callista, his grey eyes almost black as he searched her gaze. “Please share with the class?”
“Nothing, I was just thinking you look as though you should be in a Bond movie. Helicopters, fancy cars, and a white dinner jacket—of course, you are much more handsome than any of the Bond’s—thus far.” Callista tried fluttering her eyelashes, but was sure it came off as more of twitch. Damn, I wish I hadn’t worn the falsies.
“Thank you, I think.” Anbu laughed as he got into the car and the rich joyous sound made Callista’s heart flip-flop in her chest. “I don’t think this research project will require anything as exciting as espionage. No car chases, high tech gadgets, disguises or explosions and certainly not gunplay, but should you get a paper cut, I can probably assist.”
They all laughed as the car sped off towards the party. The sleek Mercedes ground to a halt just a few moments later and the back door to the car opened held by a liveried servant. Callista elegantly swung her legs from the car, ankles together, and stepped on to the walk. Bruna joined her and they both stared at the building in front of them; white walls bathed in pastel floodlights, Lapis and gilt cupolas atop tall minarets. Verdant palms and formal planted flower beds softened the abundance of marble. Anbu’s whisper floated from behind them.
“My friends, I don’t believe we are in Kansas anymore…”
If the hotel was over the top in Callista’s view, then the Consul’s Palace was positively obscene. If this was the home of a government official what on earth must the Sultan’s Palace be like? Anbu did not seem at all phased by the ostentatious luxury surrounding him. He absorbed any environment like a sponge, effortlessly fitting in to his surroundings. Callista supposed it was the very essence of his academic success as an anthropologist and ethnographer. He had a chameleon like ability which enabled him to adapt so completely to his circumstances. She was envious of his laid back approach to extreme cultural shifts and more determined than ever to learn how he achieved it. That was why I took his job offer to begin with, after all!
The palace was humming with excitement. Elegantly clad people whispered secret gossip into each other’s ears while watching the subtle dance of the Sultanate court. The tinkling music of fine crystal glasses and gold bracelets mingled with boisterous conversations of congregated self-important men watching the exquisitely desirable women parading past them.
The formal reception had been short and as Bruna had guessed, somewhat boring. The elderly Sultan had only appeared briefly, escorted by the Consul General who had introduced him to Anbu. After a few quiet words and a laugh shared by the three men, the Omani ruler moved to the next group. Except for a glance lingering on Callista’s cleavage and a measured look at Bruna, he essentially ignored the two women. Callista remained calm, following protocol, and Bruna just laughed. The Brazilian whispered in Callista’s ear, “Do you think he might like one of your blow jobs, Chica?” Callista nearly dropped her champagne.
Once the Sultan had circulated, he was spirited away by his minders and the real party began. The techno beat of music pounded in time with the flashing lights and their host’s harem re-appeared in dance clothes, shaking it for all they were worth in hopes of attracting the attention of a Prince or Sheik. Callista guessed that most of them were on the usual three year contracts and were constantly looking for fresh opportunities to extend their tenure.
Bruna took one look at the harem girls and pouted. “Master, look at them. I don’t stand a chance of snagging a Sheik wrapped up like this. What about the Generalissimo, I could make him happy?”
“I don’t believe even your considerable charms would work on our host, Bruna. If the rumours are correct, the Consul General is gay. He has no children of his own and though many have tried to snag him from bachelorhood, none have succeeded.” He laughed at Bruna, as she made pretence of stamping her foot in disappointment.
“He studied at Oxford for a while, before my time, but the more cosmopolitan lure of London, and particularly Soho, was too strong. I don’t think he got a very good degree, a Desmond at best.” Anbu saw Bruna’s confusion and added, “A two, two degree; second class honours? Archbishop Desmond Tutu? No?” he sighed and said, “Callista will explain it later.”
Callista noticed the Consul General over Anbu’s shoulder, approaching rapidly and wearing a frown. “Anbu, pissed off host at six o’clock. We haven’t done anything, honest.” Bruna nodded vigorously in agreement. Anbu sighed and turned.
“A word, Professor?”
“Of course, Excellency.”
“Will you excuse us, ladies? I shan’t keep Professor Dahl very long. Enjoy the party.”
“Behave, and stay here!” Anbu hissed over his shoulder as he made to leave.
“Master, may I use the restroom?” Bruna put on her baby voice as she called after him and smiled sweetly.
“Yes, but take Callista with you.”
“Don’t you trust me to pee?” Bruna didn’t think Anbu had heard her and Callista thought it was probably for the best.
Anbu paused mid stride and half turned. “Callista, why don’t you take Bruna to the powder room? Now!” His tone was curt but Callista couldn’t resist pushing him.
“Take her? Yes, Daddy.”
“Master, this was supposed to be a fun night out for us, remember? I hope your mood improves before we get back.” Bruna turned on her heel and wiggled her delicious bottom across the dance floor. Callista looked at Anbu hoping he would say something to make her feel better about everything, but he did not. Instead, he turned on his heel and hurried after the retreating diplomat. To make matters worse, she had lost sight of Bruna and had to hurry to search for her.