Love Potion No. 1, 2 & 3. A Delicious Hamper of Provocative Erotica Designed to Turn You On.

 

Ten hot, sexy novellas comprising more than 269,000 words: Including:

Past Present by Secret Narrative

An older man, younger woman, contemporary erotic romance, packed with pleasurable themes. Eleanor and Matthew explore each other through a series of wicked erotic games and sexy tasks that stimulate her desire for submission, spanking and other pleasures, which she shares through her diaries. As their relationship develops, Matthew revisits his past and reveals his early learning at the hands of an older woman, triggering an awakening that shapes his future with Eleanor.

Urban Cougar by Secret Narrative

Predatory, rich, and ruthless, bisexual, Kat Francis fills her hedonistic existence with bondage and domination sex games uncomplicated by love or commitment. She surrounds herself with men and women who indulge her every desire without question. However, after the marriage of her daughter, Kat awakens to new possibilities.

Break it to Love by Secret Narrative

Predictable alpha male, Scott Worth, bumps into Sara, a former crush and instantly regrets accepting her invitation to a barbecue. But when he meets Sara's much younger sister, Lizzie, he's soon counting his lucky stars.

Acts of Pleasure by Poppy Phoenix

Join Poppy's world of pleasure where she swings with her friends, seduces a young neighbour, fulfils her own dreams and others' fantasies with sex and romance. Poppy shares these events, some shocking and some amusing, but all are true and all are from her own real life experiences. They include multiple partners, old and young, threesomes, foursomes, bisexual, group sex, voyeur, spanking and other games as she and her husband Steven, aka, The Pervert embrace the swinging lifestyle for their own pleasure. Truth is stranger than fiction, an oft-quoted phrase that readily describes this account from self-confessed sex addict, Poppy Phoenix.

Under Him by Adele Lee

Under Him is a true confession of Adele's initiation, which takes place at the hands of handsome Rob. Adele has always loved worldly-wise Rob, who bribes her with the promise of gifts and cash. She sacrifices her virginity and much more besides, little knowing that her initiation into the addictive pleasure of sex will turn her a Sunday Girl.

A Diary by Charlotte Caldo

Share Charlotte Caldo's candid revelations in this sexy, full disclosure. Charlotte discovers her old diaries and exposes her past in an emotional journey of bad behaviour and wild antics. Follow her as she revisits numerous hot encounters, told in her own scorching, confessional words.

Poppy's Party Pieces by Poppy Phoenix

Poppy says...I believe that the truth is often hornier, smuttier and sexier than fiction. I am happy to write smutty, real life sex stories for your amusement and satisfaction. I very much hope you enjoy Poppy's Party Pieces. Do drop me a line if you would like to chat, I can be contacted via the Secret Narrative website.

Kiss From A Ghost by Elizabeth Woodham

No matter where it starts, a story must have a hero. A journey. A story of love lost and found again. People adore making comparisons or to invent an artificial existence. Does anyone really know what is going on in someone else's world? When Chloe Merrywell meets army medic, Dan Archer, her deepest nature is gradually transformed. Chloe embarks upon a journey of discovery and awakens to the delights of faithful sex. She unravels her past from her convent school education and the taste of girls to her seduction at the hands of charismatic Nicholas Kamarovsky. Chloe's lifetime of learning isn't easily undone; her former lovers taunt and tempt and she's torn. The taste of her best friend Suzanne lingers and stimulates the memory of Sister Nuria as Chloe struggles to embrace convention and turn her back on the past for good.

Savannah by Daniella Cerveny

Daniella Cerveny describes the metamorphosis of her marriage as she and her husband embark on their swinging, sexual awakening in a series of stunning truths straight from Daniella's big heart. She's unafraid and is willing to try anything at least once. Accompany Daniella and husband Todd as they swing their way through a string of hot, searing sessions.

Generation Game by Secret Narrative

Sixty-something university lecturer, Sylvia Kent explores age-gap sex, and her new-found desire for steamy encounters with strangers, students, and colleagues. Explosive exploratory sex with teenage men.

 

Keywords: BDSM, bondage, domination, soaping, figging, anal, oral, orgy, group sex, first time sex, virgin, age play older man younger woman, older woman younger man, spanking, swinging, wife swapping, male/male, female/female, group sex, sex in public, sex with strangers, voyeurism, role play, romantic sex, happy for now, happy ever after

 

Explicit Excerpt taken from Savannah by Daniella Cerveny.

Savannah in the Spring time. It was definitely time for a break from our daily routine. With my birthday rapidly approaching, my sweet husband offered to take me on either a cruise to St. Thomas or a road trip to Savannah, Georgia. I chose Savannah. We have stopped in and poked around Savannah on several occasions, usually just to stretch our legs on a journey to or from someplace else. The last time we visited, we vowed to make it our main destination 'the next time'. This was that time. We rented a sporty red muscle car for the trip. Even though this was not going to be a long vacation, we still wanted it to feel like a real vacation.

Early Saturday morning we packed up the car and hopped onto the interstate. It's nearly a straight shot from our house, and we estimated the trip to take around five hours. Todd and I travel well together, always have. There were times of in-depth conversation; what we wanted out of life and how we were going to make those goals happen. Quiet times taking in the changing scenery, and time simply listening to the radio. It seems when you get anywhere near the Deep South; there's a difficult choice to make in radio stations-country, country or country. With that in mind, we listened to some good 'ol country music for the majority of our drive. At one point, there was a great song by Toby Keith about two sisters looking to pick up the only cowboy in the bar one night. The lyrics were hysterical. It seems the cowboy being pursued is no longer in top form and tells the sisters, "I'm not as good as I once was, but I'm as good once as I ever was." That brought out some laughter each time it repeated in the chorus. Perhaps I should give country music a listen now and then.

As our journey to Savannah continued, my husband asked me to read a story from my Kindle, which he refers to as 'my little porn machine'. Ninety-eight percent of what's on there is erotica, a far cry from porn but elicits some nice effects when read quietly or aloud. I chose Kiss From A Ghost by Elizabeth Woodham. It's a personal favorite of mine and seemed inspiring for our romantic vacation getaway. I read the naughty tale aloud and watched Todd squirm in his driver's seat, trying to find a comfortable position while his growing hard on strained the lightweight fabric of his pants. It was an easy read and a great tease with which to begin our adventure. By the time I finished the story, we were in downtown Savannah, navigating our way through the grid-like layout of the city. If I didn't know better, I'd think the little historic parks dropped smack in the middle of various streets are blatant traps for tourist like us.

Unfamiliar with the city it made for one of those 'you can't get there from here' moments each time we came to one of those parks or the one-way streets. Our navigation system was trying to send us down, the wrong way of course! When we pulled up at the historic Planter's Inn, the doorman took our bags and valet parked our car. It soon became apparent that Todd had been taking travel tips from his friends, and slipped the young man behind the counter a tip. Our room was upgraded to the best available on the top floor with a stunning view of the city.

Revved up from the Kindle story and the promise of hotel sex, we were naked just moments after locking the door. It's our tradition to 'break in' the room as soon as we arrive at any hotel. It's also a tradition to have the amount of sex deemed the equivalent of the price of the room, assuring we get our money's worth. Technically, this was a gray area because we received a great rate on the room through a travel website BUT then I couldn't overlook the upgraded Todd secured with his front desk tipping maneuver. All in all, it didn't matter; I'd give him the five star hotel sex he deserved for the duration of our vacation. I always do. Where to start? Our room had a beautiful four poster bed, a leather bench at the end and two club chairs overlooking the room. So many options!

After making out like teenagers and shedding our clothes, I reclined on the bed and let Todd have his way with me. I spread my legs and shared my creamy, wet pussy with his highly skilled and nimble tongue. With my clitoris dancing to his sensual rhythm, he added his fingers to the mix. First one, then two and finally three, rhythmically caressing me to near explosion. Sensing my pending orgasm, his fingers retreated, leaving me begging for mercy and release. Todd rose up from the carpeted floor, his mouth and lips shining with juices fresh from my always-hungry- for-more pussy. Being a man on a mission, he pushed my legs further apart, positioned himself at my entrance and pushed his bulging, rock hard cock into me, burying himself in an instant. He was rough, desperate, and in need of relief. I wrapped my legs around his torso and held on to his waist as he repeatedly thrust into me, slick and hard, unrelenting in his desire. As I came and came again, he kept his pace, selfishly looking for his pleasure but giving me my own, too. As he peaked, he pulled his length out of my convulsing cunt and shot his steamy load of cum across my belly and breasts. Breathless, he collapsed onto my chest and lay there panting as fatigue overtook us.

Momentarily sated and covered in sweat, his hot cream sandwiched between us; we dozed off for the better part of an hour. We woke with our legs tangled together and just a little bit more in love. Wanting to make the most of our first day, we quickly showered and dressed for the late afternoon reception taking place in the hotel's impressive lobby. With a glass of Merlot in one hand and a small cheese plate in the other, we mingled with other guests, most like us, there to explore the city. Many were in town for weddings and graduations. We mingled our way around the room assessing the other guests. Most were older than ourselves and blatantly not players for the kind of wicked sex games Todd and I enjoy.

No one suited our immediate desires; we walked hand in hand to the historic downtown marketplace, bustling with restaurants, bars, art galleries, and boutiques. We stepped into a little bar named Wet Willies. Its walls were covered with machines swirling colorful mixtures of their signature, intoxicating frozen drinks. After careful consideration, Todd ordered the white Russian, while I experimented with a rainbow of thimble-sized samples of different concoctions. I narrowed my decision down to either the Bahama Mama or Naked Willie. Our waitress guided me to a mixture of both. A naked mama which once poured into a plastic cup, sets you free to roam the streets of this historic city with your adult beverage in hand. A few steps down the street, Todd commented on my tipsy state. As I've mentioned in other journal entries, I am a cheap date, on this particular day, a really cheap date.

He held on to me a little tighter as we made our way through a galleria featuring local artists and students from the Savannah College of Art and Design. He kept me safely out harm's way and tucked into his side. I felt completely relaxed, more than a little drunk and absolutely treasured. Although, looking back on it, I have a hunch Todd was trying to protect the artwork as much as he was trying to protect me. We found seats on an old painted bench and listened to the sweet sound of summer music performed live in the outdoor square. I pulled out my camera to record such a perfect moment in time. With my arm extended to its fullest - snap - blurry picture - snap - blurry picture - snap - same result. I broke out into a fit of giggles. Todd smirked and shook his head.

I have yet to master selfie portraits.

We enjoyed a few more songs before Todd stood tall and extended his hand to help me to my feet.

"You are drunk, little missy. We need to get you back to the hotel."

I couldn't even begin to argue that point.

With the cool evening air settling over the city, we made our way back to the hotel. I sobered up a little along the way. It was going to be an early night. Quite a shame for a Saturday and our first night of vacation but I was certain more good things were going to happen, and they did. All night long, to the point of complete and utter exhaustion.

Sunday morning, we entered the elevator, and pressed the indicator for the mezzanine level. Awaiting us was the hotel's famous southern breakfast buffet. Stopping short of our desired floor, the elevator doors opened and a bellhop joined us on our journey. He was as tall, dark and handsome as they come. More impressive was his dazzling heart-melting smile. With the doors closed around us, the air was filled with palpable and undeniable electricity. Hmmm... I've read about it, not certain I've felt it for myself, yet here it was, surrounding the three of us. After a brief ride, the final few floors, we were at the restaurant, and I exited with my head spinning. What was that? One step into the room, Todd stopped me in my tracks and said, "I do believe that gentleman has a thing for you."

So, the electricity popping around really was that obvious. Interesting.

"Yes, I think so." Was all I could say, my heart pounding from the encounter.

We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast while studying maps of the city then set out for a day exploring. If you ever travel to Savannah, I recommend the trolley tour for an overview of the city. Take the whole tour first, and then start the on and offs on the second loop. Each driver puts their own spin on the tour. Many are homegrown Savannah natives who know the city's history backward and forward and will separate fact from fiction as well as point out their personal favorite sites and restaurants. We walked miles that day, taking in the fresh crisp air filled with the scent of blooming magnolias. We ended a great day of adventure with a riverboat cruise to see the city from a different perspective.

After a full day of touring, we returned to our room to freshen up for an evening out. Todd dressed in khaki trousers with a crisply pressed button down shirt. I put on my latest purchase, a spaghetti strap sundress being worn for the first time. I chose the dress for the Savannah trip because I like to be a little risqué when I'm away from home. The clingy number really accentuates my large, protruding nipples and the fabric is sensual on my bare skin. Teamed with a necklace and strappy high heels, I was ready for an evening out.

Hand in hand, we walked two blocks to a restaurant and bar named Jazz'd. It had a great tapas menu, lively atmosphere and a jazz-blues band playing that night. One of the songs featured had intriguing lyrics. "If you see me running, my life is in peril". Being a non-runner myself, I found great humor in that string of words and laughed out loud. We finished our food and drinks at the same time the band took a break. We bought their latest CD and met the band standing side by side, puffing cigarettes outside the front door. After a brief chat, two of the band members recommended we stroll a few more blocks to The Social Club.

The Social Club is a great little hot spot with bars both indoors and out. Under a starry night sky and the establishment's twinkling white lights, we found large lounge chairs outside and stretched out. As much as I would have liked to put my feet up after a full day of walking, I was extra self-conscious of my posture and seating position. I wore nothing under my flirty little sundress.

We watched as parties gathered and went into the bar. Two gorgeous young women entered together, piquing our mutual interest. One was dressed in a tiny, figure-hugging cropped t-shirt and tight leggings accentuated her fabulously rounded bottom and athletic looking legs. "Wow," I said aloud as she walked past, making sure Todd enjoyed the same view as me. The friend was wearing a full-length sundress which flowed in the right places, leaving little to the imagination.

They both caught our attention, youthful and beautiful, an enticing combination. We watched as they flitted around the bar making small talk here and there, and before we knew it, they were leaving. They stopped just outside the gate and spoke with a group of people waiting for friends to join them. It turned out that the girls were handing out promotional cards providing free access into Temptations, a fully nude strip club across the river in South Carolina. One young woman beamed at us and invited us to visit the following evening, guaranteeing we would have a great time; an expensive time too, I'm sure.

Inside the Social Club, an expansive red-brick room with a mirrored wall displayed all the types of liquors and beers available. In the far corner, a three piece band played classic rock-n-roll music from the 1970's. We ordered another round of drinks we settled in. The Social Club entertained a wide variety of people, from college kids to folks in their sixties. Most likely, parents in town for graduation ceremonies getting a glimpse of where their kids spent their free time and parents' money. It was a great night of music and fun. I was thankful for the recommendation; I don't know that we would have found it on our own.

The longer we sat at our secluded perch of a table, the more connection I felt with the music the band played. I noticed the lead singer, a large man with a wide bandana tied around his head, looking in my direction more often than not. The selection of songs, including the order in which they played, spoke to me. I felt the band leader's intense gaze as he sang. I had never been made to feel that way before, and I felt myself growing warmer and wetter as the time passed.

It was late when we left the club and cold dew filled the air before settling.

We deliberated taking a taxi back to our hotel but walked the few blocks. Even Mother Nature was getting a little frisky with me, often threatening to blow my dress up around my waist with her cool breeze.

I was thrilled to find a large plate of warm and sinfully delicious-smelling chocolate chip cookies waiting for us in the lobby. What a welcome treat. With cookies in hand, we returned to our room, and a few minutes later licked the crumbs off of each other's naked bodies. Too tired for anything else, we retired for the evening, naked and spooning until rays of morning sunshine peeked through our curtains.

I woke to my man's hands gently caressing my breasts. Apparently, he had been lightly teasing my nipples while I slept and listened as I softly moaned in harmony with his touch. He suppressed laughter as I began to stir all hot and bothered by his ministrations. As I focused my eyes to the sunlight filtering into the room, I met his loving gaze.

"I've been watching you sleep," he whispered.

Realizing my nipples were fully erect in response to his touch and registering the moisture between my thighs, I smiled.

"That's not all you've been doing."

"You're right and I've only just begun."

With that, he pressed his lips to mine, and we welcomed in the new day. I was ready to play, and Todd was eager to please me. He returned his attention to my breasts, caressing each one with firm pressure and a circular motion using his thumbs to brush over my hardened nipples. Before I knew it, my hips were swaying in rhythm with breasts. Another day in paradise was just beginning.

Our mini vacation was an overwhelming success. We spent our mornings gently loving each other until we were starving for an actual meal. We covered the city by trolley and foot during the day taking in as much as we could without wearing ourselves out. The wearing ourselves part came with the sex that followed each time we returned to our room. By the time we were ready to leave, we had had sex on every surface of that room, bed, bench, arm chairs, desk, bathroom countertop and of course, the shower. Five star hotel sex each and every time.

 

Tame Extract from Kiss From A Ghost by Elizabeth Woodham

One: The Little Red Kilt

31.12.12-2300 hours

"My mother doesn't talk to me."

"Because you wear short plaid skirts which barely cover your arse, and tight little red leather jackets snugger than a condom?"

"No. I've always dressed this way. Will you take off the mask?"

"No."

New Year's Eve. Pressing against me in the throng, he takes my hand, pulls me closer, and bending me backward in an emulation of an iconic image, plants a kiss onto my mouth. He keeps his tongue politely non-invasive; I part my lips anyway and hook him in. He tastes marvellous. He tastes of vodka and tonic, and of lemons, sharp, zinging. I fish for more, knowing my own breath echoes Southern Comfort, sweet and cloying at first, before the burning liquor sears epiglottis and oesophagus.

21.12.12-Midday

I deploy medical terms in homage of my new obsession. Benjamin O'Carroll, a surgeon, older than me. Much older actually, but vulnerable, I make him feel vulnerable, I can tell. He turns my broken hand this way and that, examining me, using microscopic eyes, beneath brows that seem to move independently, and wishes that my injury was at the core of me.

My nails are blood red, eight fingers, including the broken digit and two thumbs, thankfully uninjured. An icy fall. A lucky break.

Eyes, sharp and shrewd, a lilting voice. An accent. I struggle; my musical ear is out of tune, and I cannot properly hear his provenance. I lick my lips, slowly, no makeup. It's my right hand, application is tricky, and best left undone. He watches the tip of my perfect pink tongue travel a circuit. I pause and repeat for effect and pause...

"At least another three weeks, Miss Merrywell."

Hope diminishes, shrinks away, and shrivels my expectation of freedom.

"Three weeks!"

"I'm afraid so. A nasty break, as I said when we fixed you up. You may yet need an operation to straighten the finger."

"Thank you." Plummeting, I grope for reassurance, "I hope I won't need an operation." I fix wide eyes on his mouth, and raise them slowly, deliberately meeting his. Liquid, dissolving resolve, I make him water, watch him salivate; waver.

"Make a follow-up appointment, please. After Christmas, of course. Meanwhile, if you experience significant pain or the cast becomes uncomfortable, contact my secretary, she'll fit you in."

Rising, leaving his chair redundant, no revelation of occupation in his attire, plain trousers, and pristine shirt, teamed with plaid tie. His shoes polished, though they are out of sight, hidden, with his lower half behind the desk.

I stand too, and push my chair back. The nurse is behind me, helps with my coat. I grab my bag, unnaturally left-handed and check myself.

"Goodbye and happy holiday."

"Yes, you too," he says, re-seated, moving his next patient's notes into position as I leave his office.

29.12.12-1400 hours

"I don't really feel like it."

"It'll be fun. Take your mind off your missed deadlines, and other crap."

"What will I wear?"

"Tartan. Don't worry about anything else. Just wear something tartan and a mask."

31.12.12-2000 hours

I'm tempted to wear only the skirt and the mask. I remember my mother telling me never to give in to temptation, so I don't, not then anyway, before the party, before midnight.

Protected with Clingfilm, I shower.

Dressing is difficult wearing the cast, so I take it off, toss it onto the bed, and make a good fist of getting ready. Makeup as accurate as possible, my youthful skin needs little embellishment, my long, caramel hair shines a cascade to the middle of my back. Centre parting, no fringe, it needs little adornment but looks better washed. What the hell? It's impossible one-handed. I leave it loose.

Plaid red velvet barely covers my bottom. Round, juicy, ripe full cheeks, I know it's pert, and pretty, I'm blessed. Lucky. Long legs travel all the way up from feet, sized perfect for my height, my only blemish an accidental break.

The shape of almonds, I need not emphasise my eyes. The mask is exotic, Venetian. Awkward, I secure it. Anonymity achieved with luscious lips exposed. Zipping soft, buttery, red leather, skin so soft, a fingertip traces where it ends, and mine begins. Red skin, next to my skin; I run my forefinger along the zipper and halt just above the swell of my well-formed breasts, untouched by surgeon's knife.

I decide on tights. Another struggle, sheer black lace provides a barely perceptible nod to modesty; no panties provide a nod to hedonism. My little black boots complete me and walk me to the kerbside.

31.12.12-2345 hours

I dance among the heaving throng with my arm aloft, keeping my hand away from further harm. Dancing behind my disguise, perspiring gently into snug, red leather, rivulets make their way from clavicle to clit. Seeping into crevices, pooling at my tights, the damp patches are hidden, but I feel them, smell them, mixed with my perfume and my scent they assail my senses. Turn me on, wetter and wetter, I am lush, and yet, untouched.

It's New Year's Eve, a man grabs the hand at my side, closes his long, slim fingers over mine, pulls me closer. I keep my injured limb in the air above us; an ache travels from fingertip to armpit, matching the acute agony glowing between my thighs.

01.01.13-0001 hours

The chimes have stopped, and the explosions started, spiralling rockets shoot into the air, a cacophony of surround sound. Someone opens the doors and windows, a whoosh of cold air accompanied by a whiff of cordite rushes towards us. The room empties, partygoers move to the outside space, eyes heavenward where my hand once resided.

"Take me home," I say, against his lips, my wet flesh sparkles.

A charge of hesitation frizzles my nerves, everything has moved into the distance, except him and me in a bubble of expectancy.