Category Archives: Sex Scenes

Rock Hard Deleted Scene 1 – Psycho-Fan-Chic Loves Sed

This scene was deleted from the original manuscript of

Sed stepped into the gondola and took Jessica’s hand to help her into flat-bottomed boat. He kissed her soft lips before sitting on the red-cushioned seat. She sat beside him and fastened her seatbelt, before he covered her shapely bare legs with his black leather duster.

“I’m not cold,” she said.

That was not why he’d covered her with his coat. She had to know that. Her coy smile told him she knew exactly what he had in mind. “When I’m through with you, you’ll be on fire, baby.”

“Oh yeah?” Her hand gripped his thigh and his cock stirred.

Oh yeah.”

The gondolier, dressed in a black and white striped shirt with a red sash around his hips and a matching scarf at his throat, used a pole to push off from the dock. They headed down the shallow canal that ran through the center of the Venetian hotel’s shopping center. Sed only had about fifteen minutes to repay Jessica for her attention in the restaurant. He’d better get busy.

“Look at the ceiling!” She pointed at the graceful, domed ceiling, her head resting against his shoulder as she took in her surroundings. The ceiling had been painted to look like the sky, complete with wispy clouds. “And the buildings are all so colorful and elegant. It’s almost like we’re really in Italy. And there’s a bridge!”

“Cool,” he murmured, but for all the opulence in the place, the only thing present that could hold his attention was the woman in his arms.

He slid one hand beneath her skirt. She relaxed, allowing her legs to fall open and his fingers to find her slick, swollen flesh. He curled two fingers and slipped them into her silky pussy and rubbed his palm over her clit in slow circles. She pressed her face against his shoulder and whispered, “Don’t make me scream. There are people everywhere.”

He shoved his fingers deeper inside her, seeking that spot that would make her scream. Nothing would satisfy him more than making her lose control right there with spectators watching their romantic boat ride. Within seconds, Jessica’s back arched and her body tensed around his fingers as she found release.

“That was fast,” he whispered into her ear.

She grabbed him by the back of the head and kissed him hungrily. Her mouth moved to his ear. “God, I want you to fuck me right now. I so turned on, I can’t stand it.”

Sed’s cock sprang to instant attention. He glanced around. The place was far too crowded and well lit for him to penetrate her no matter how much he wanted to.

“I think it’s time we went back to the hotel,” he said, still stroking her clit in lazy circles with his palm.

“I really could use a bath.”

“And I need a cold shower.”

She grinned. “That’s not what you need, Sedric.” She tightened that glorious pussy of hers, squeezing his fingers inside her body.

At the memory of what that felt like when he was buried inside her, his eyes drifted closed, his mouth open. He was sure his cock was about bust the zipper right out of his pants. Beneath the duster that covered their laps, Sed unfastened the seatbelt and shifted uncomfortably. Yeah, they needed to get back to the hotel before permanent damage was done to his body.

“You know what I need, don’t you?” he murmured.

The boat passed under a bridge and their gondolier broke into song. Sed looked up at him. Did the guy have any idea what was going on in his little boat? The pudgy man had his eyes discretely averted while he sang in perfect Italian. Sed pulled his hand from Jessica’s body and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they listened to the gondolier sing his romantic song. He had a surprisingly good voice.

“Hey, hey, I know this song,” Sed said. He joined the gondolier halfway through the chorus. “Ohhh sole.  Ohhh sooooole mio. Stand front pâte. Stand front pâte.

Jessica burst into delighted laughter. “I don’t think those are the right lyrics, sweetheart.”

“Wow,” the gondolier said, “you have an incredible voice. Do you sing opera?”

Sed grinned up at the guy who was standing behind them oaring the boat down the grand canal. “Opera? Eh, no.”

“Oh my God!” someone screamed from above. “Sed! Sed Lionheart! Hey. Hey. HEY! Look up here. Look at me. Sed! Yoohoo. Sed! Hey.”

“I think one of your fans has spotted you,” Jessica said.

“Sometimes, if you ignore them, they leave you alone,” he said.

There was a collective gasp followed by a loud splash. “Sed!”

“And sometimes they jump in a moat.”

“Cannonball!” someone yelled from above and there was a smattering of laughter.

The woman waded through the water toward their boat. The water was about thigh high. Her wet skirt tangled around her legs, but she had her sights set on Sed and she looked determined to catch up with them.

“Hey,” the gondolier said when she reached their boat, “you can’t just jump into the water like that. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Sed,” she whispered, her lips trembling. Her eyes filled with unexpected tears. Great, just great. Not only was she crazy, she was a crier. Nothing grated on Sed’s nerves more than useless tears. Psycho-teary-fan-chic grabbed the side of the boat, trying to haul herself into the vessel. It tilted precariously under her weight.

“Whoa!” the gondolier cried. He fell into the water, which tilted the boat even more.

Jessica still had her seatbelt on, but Sed wasn’t so lucky. Psycho-strong-fan-chic latched onto his shirt with both sets of talons. The next thing he knew, he was sitting in the canal, with water up to the center of his chest, and wrapped in a bone-crushing embrace.

“I love you,” Psycho-loony-fan-chic crooned. “I love you.”

Jessica unfastened her seatbelt looked over the edge of the gondola and laughed until tears leaked from both eyes. “I guess you got your cold shower after all.”

“I love you,” Psycho-oblivious-fan-chic continued to chant as she rubbed her face against Sed’s chest and gazed up at him with adulation. “I love you.”

“You think this is funny?” Sed asked Jessica.

“Yuh huhn.”

Sed pulled Psycho-clingy-fan-chic’s arms from his torso and stood. He reached into the boat and grabbed Jessica around the waist. “You still think this is funny?”

Her eyes widened as he lifted her from the dry, security of the gondola into his arms. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

He dropped her. Not on purpose. Psycho-angry-fan-chic had grabbed the back of Jessica’s shirt and pulled her out of his arms into the water.

Eyes wide, Jessica emitted a startled shriek as water sloshed up to her shoulders. She sat there in the water for several seconds and then burst out laughing again. Dear God, he loved this woman. He knelt beside her in the water, cupped her cheek with one hand, and claimed her smiling lips with a hungry kiss.

“No,” Psycho-livid-fan-chic cried. “No. No. You’re mine.” She wrapped both arms around Sed’s neck from behind and pulled until he had no choice but to break his kiss.

“Excuse me,”  he said to Jessica. He turned to Psycho-hysterical-fan-chic. “You need to get lost. Like, immediately. Before I say something that will hurt your feelings.”

Normally, he’d just crush her like an empty beer can, but not with Jessica sitting right there. Looking all sexy and wet and… happy. And sexy. Would he get arrested for fucking her right there in the Grand Canal? Yeah, probably. Did he care? At the moment, no. Not at all.

“Security!” the gondolier called from the back of the gondola. He’d somehow managed to climb back onto the flat platform at the back of the boat.

“What is going on down there?” a guard, dressed in a Venetian police uniform, called from the promenade above.

“This woman needs to be escorted from the premises.” The gondolier indicated Psycho-distraught-fan-chic with the flip of his hand.

“And how am I supposed to get down there to get her?”

“She’s leaving quietly now,” Sed said. “She just got a little carried away.”

He met her eyes to try to get her to agree (he didn’t want to see a fan get into any real trouble on account of him) and the woman started to hyperventilate.

Jessica climbed to her feet and wrung water from her skirt. Sed wished her wet shirt were white. He glanced around at the crowd of gawking spectators. On second thought, he wished she were wearing a parka and ski pants.

“She can ride back with us,” Jessica said.

Psycho-astonished-fan-chic glanced at Jessica.

“If she promises not to take us for another swim.”

Psycho-placated-fan-chic nodded in agreement. Sed lifted the two women into the boat and they held it steady while he climbed in with them.

“Well, that’s not something you see every day,” the gondolier said, “even in this crazy town.”

So much for Sed’s romantic gondola ride with Jessica. She started shivering in the air conditioning and he wrapped his coat around her, grateful that it had avoided a dunk in the water.

“I’m ready for that bath now,” she said. “I need to warm up.”

“I know exactly how to warm you up, baby.”

“I’m cold, too, Sed,” Psycho-attentive-fan-chic said.

Jessica’s eyes narrowed. “I was nice enough to let you ride back with us. Don’t make me change my mind and have you thrown overboard.”

Sed grinned. He loved it when she was territorial. She was falling for him already. Just like he’d planned. Piece of cake.

When the gondola docked, Sed helped Psycho-simpering-fan-chic out of the boat and then took Jessica’s hand. Before he could help her up the steps, they were completely surrounded by an entire pack of psycho-fan-chics.



Rock Hard Excerpt 1 – Sex Above the City (sex scene)

Excerpt from

Rock Hard

by Olivia Cunning

© 2011

A few people stood gazing out of the tower at the bright lights of the strip below, but most waited at the elevator to leave the closing attraction. Sed pulled Jessica to a deserted corner and shielded her body from the thinning crowd with his body.

“You know I can’t control myself around you,” he said.

She was counting on it.

His hands moved under her skirt, massaging the globes of her bare ass. He lowered his head to kiss her. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she sucked it deep. He pulled her closer, grinding her pelvic bone against his—crushing his cock between their bodies. His fingertips ran down the crack of her ass until he found the puckered flesh he sought and dipped the tip of his ring finger inside her. She jerked and tugged her mouth away from his.

“I want to swallow you,” she whispered. “We need to find a room immediately.”

He glanced over his shoulder and looked around. There was no one there but the two of them. His hands moved to her hips and eased her down. She peeked around his body to ensure herself that no one was nearby and then crouched down in front of him. A cool breeze fluttered under her skirt and drew her attention to the hot ache between her thighs. Why was it always like this with him? He made her so wet and needy. Another reason to hate him.

And want him.

Sed’s hands gripped the wire cage surrounding the observation deck as she freed his cock from his pants and drew him deep into her throat.

His head fell back, his hat tumbling to the ground as he groaned in that primeval way that made her pussy clench. She clutched the leather encasing his muscular thighs as she sucked him, drawing her head back and then taking him deep into her throat again. She bobbed her head faster, sucked harder, knowing he needed release.

“Ah, Jessica. Ah, yeah. That’s perfect. Everything you do to me. Perfect.”

“Excuse me, sir. The observation deck is closed now,” a hesitant voice said behind them.

Jessica paused, her heart racing in her chest. Public engagements always excited her, but getting caught? Not so much.

Sed glanced at the female attendant over his shoulder. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars if you forget I’m up here for twenty minutes.”

“Oh. My. God,” she said, her pitch and volume increasing with each word. “Sed Lionheart. I’m your biggest fan!”

Jessica released his cock from her mouth and stood up. Sed let go of the wire fencing to wrap an arm around her, drawing her against his chest and poking her in the belly with his erection.

“We’re kind of busy,” Jessica told the star struck, young woman.

Her gaze moved from Sed’s face to Jessica’s. “I thought you were alone,” she murmured. Her eyes widened in sudden realization. “Oh. You can’t do that here. The deck is closed. You have to go down now.”

“I was going down,” Jessica told her.

Sed tossed his head back and laughed, his arm tightening around Jessica’s body. Jessica’s hand slipped between their bodies and wrapped it around his cock. He jerked, his breath catching in his throat. Poor guy was about to explode. Her hand shifted to his balls, finding them hot and full. He shuddered.

“Sweetie, I’ll autograph something for you if you just disappear for about twenty minutes,” Sed said hoarsely.

“I saw your concert tonight,” the girl said, her gaze stuck to Sed like superglue. “How’s your throat?”

“Still a little sore, but it will get better. So, Eiffel Tower Girl, do we have a deal? Leave us alone for a few?”

“Yeah, I’ll pretend like I didn’t see you for twenty minutes or so, but I want your shirt.”

“You’ve got it.”

“And a thousand dollars.”


“Like, right now.”

Sed shrugged off his long leather coat, allowing it to fall to the ground, and pulled his shirt over his head. He threw it at her. The young woman caught it, cradled it against her chest and lowered her face into the fabric to inhale his scent. She sighed, her eyelids fluttering in bliss.

Jessica’s nostrils flared.

“I’ll pay you later,” Sed promised. “Go away now.”

The attendant nodded and disappeared around the corner.

“I really hate your fans sometimes.” Jessica noticed they were entirely alone now. All the other tourists had left.

“If someone else had caught us, we’d have to leave.”

“Good point.”

He untied the string at the back of her neck and pushed down her bodice to expose her breasts. “I’ve been wanting to do that since we left the bus.”

He lowered his head and sucked her breast into his mouth, his tongue working against her rigid nipple. Her free hand moved to the soft, short hair on the back of his head, while her other hand slowly stroked the length of his cock.

He released her aching breast from his mouth. “Grab hold of the fence behind you.”

The fence? What did he have in mind? She lifted her hands over her head and held onto the thick, chain-link wire fencing with both hands. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Hold on tight.” He gripped her hips and lifted her feet off the ground. He stretched her body out in front of him, settling his hips between her legs.

“Can you hold on like that?” he asked.

“For a little while.”

“Let me know when your arms get tired.”

He surged forward, filling her with one deep thrust.

Her back arched involuntarily. “Ah, God, Sed.”

He supported most of her weight with one hand under her lower back, the other under her hips. She wrapped her legs around his hips and gripped the fencing tightly as he thrust into her.

“Lean back,” he whispered.

She walked her hands down the fence several rungs. When she opened her eyes, the Las Vegas strip came into view upside down. Below, she saw headlights of countless cars, an ambulance flashing red and blue lights in the distance, and the spectacular casinos, lit in all their glory. Despite the view, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. He felt too good to think of anything but his thick cock filling her, receding, filling her again. In this glorious, yet acrobatic, position, he rubbed against her G-spot with each penetrating thrust. Her arms began to tremble with fatigue, but she didn’t want him to stop just yet. She was so close.

“Sed,” she called. “Fuck me hard. I wanna come. I wanna…”

He thrust into her harder, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pounded against her.

“Oh. Oh. Oh, yes,” her vocalizations grew louder and more needy with each thrust. Her excitement and pleasure built and built and built.

Her entire body convulsed as she came. He almost dropped her and had to strengthen his hold as she screamed into the night. She shuddered violently as ripples of pleasure spread from her pulsating core, down her thighs, and up her belly and back. He refused to relent. Kept pounding into her—harder, harder, oh God, yes, harder—until another orgasm shook her and another. She knew she was chanting his name at the top of her lungs, but couldn’t stop. As her fourth orgasm pulsated through her, he thrust deep and held still, waiting for her to regain her bearings. When her body relaxed, Sed squatted and lowered her feet to the ground.

“You okay?”

She released the fencing with one hand and rubbed her face. She laughed, somewhat maniacally. “You could say that. Wow, that was…”

“…amazing.” He pulled out with a wince. “Can you stand? I don’t think I can hold you that way much longer. I’m getting tired. I guess I need to work out more.”

Most guys couldn’t hold her like that for fifteen seconds much less fifteen minutes. She used the fencing to pull herself to her feet. He stood before her and cupped her face, kissing her tenderly. He stroked the bare skin of her upper arms. “Turn around.”

She never minded him bossing her around at times like these. She trusted his sexual inventiveness far more than her own.

She turned to face the Vegas strip. He moved behind her and pushed her skirt up around her waist. Gripping her hips, he entered her again, this time from behind. He had to bend his knees to penetrate her, because even in three-inch heels, she wasn’t tall enough to accommodate his height. He caressed her buttocks and belly as he thrust into her slowly and rhythmically. As he had yet to come, she knew he had to be dying, yet he still considered her pleasure first, building her back to the pinnacle methodically.

It was time for her to regain control.

She bent forward slightly, changing the point of friction between their bodies.

He groaned. She rotated her hips, and bent further still, squeezing his cock tightly within her body.

“Jessica, that feels…”


“Yeah.” His breathing became sporadic as his thrusts quickened.

That’s better. Lose yourself. She bent further, her hair brushing the ground in front of her now. Squeezed harder. Relaxed. Squeezed. “Uhn. Uhn.” He punctuated each thrust with groans and gasps.

Come hard, Sed. She clenched her vaginal muscles even tighter to increase his stimulation. Think of nothing but me. She slowly straightened her back, changing their point of friction again. When she stood completely upright, she slowly bent forward again.

His strokes became rapid and shallow, his breathing chaotic, his groans low and primal. His hands gripped her hipbones, trying to hold her still as he continued to pound into her. Faster. Faster. Harder. Oh, yes. He thrust deep and then paused.

“Hold still, hold still,” he pleaded. He took several deep breaths and then began to move more slowly. Deeper. Gyrating to increase her pleasure.

She grinned. There was nothing better than a lover who held back for as long as possible. She put her hands on her knees and rotated her hips to the left and then to the right, grinding him inside her. And there was nothing more fun than trying to make him come.

“Jess. Jess.”

She rotated her hips to the left again. With a primal growl, he grabbed her hair and pulled her upright. He lunged forward and pressed her body against the fence, thrusting into her vigorously, repeating incoherent words into her ear.

He grabbed the fence with both hands. Metal rattled loudly as he strained against her and shuddered violently as he let go inside her at last.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he shouted. “Oh God, Jess. Jess…”

There was nothing sexier than when this man, who was always in command, completely lost control.

His body sagged against hers, crushing her into the fencing. She allowed him to catch his breath for several minutes before she complained.

“Sed, I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he panted. “I don’t think I can pull out yet. Give me a minute.” His lips brushed against her hair at the side of her head. He leaned away from her slightly, giving her just enough room to take a decent breath, but kept himself buried inside her.

“You have to leave now,” the Eiffel Tower attendant said from behind them.

Sed sighed and pulled away with a stuttering gasp. He tucked his slackening cock into his pants while Jessica straightened her skirt and pulled her top up to cover her breasts. She tied the strings behind her neck. Sed retrieved his leather coat from the ground and slid into it.

His naked chest and stomach, which showed between the sides of his duster, drew Jessica’s appreciative attention. Yummy.

Sed located his hat and crammed it onto his head. Walking unsteadily, he dug his wallet out of his pocket and fished out multiple hundred-dollar bills. He handed them to the young woman.

“Thanks for your discretion,” he said. “Worth every penny.”


Rock Hard (Sinners on Tour #2)

Available April 1st, 2011.

Amazon (paperback)

Amazon (Kindle)

Barnes and Noble

Book Depository

Books-a-Million (paperback)

Books-a-Million (ebook)


Posted by on March 29, 2011 in Rock Hard Excerpts, Sex Scenes


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Backstage Pass Deleted Scene 1 – Strip Guitar Hero

This scene was deleted from the original manuscript of

Backstage Pass

by Olivia Cunning


Myrna wasn’t getting anything accomplished.  Her entire reason for returning home–to get caught up on her research–wasn’t possible with Brian around.  The man got bored way too easily.  He watched some sports and Looney Tunes on TV (not quietly, he talked to the cartoon characters and yelled at the players the entire time), worked his way through her guitar riff collection looking for inspiration, declared he needed to utilize his muse and coaxed her into having sex in every nook and cranny of her apartment–she’d found the top of the washing machine during the spin cycle to be the most exciting so far.  He was getting a lot of music written, and faxing it to Trey in Los Angeles, but she couldn’t get anything done.

Jeremy hadn’t called her in the two days since Brian had arrived.  She could function without worrying about him constantly now, and she’d even opened the blinds and curtains in the living room.  Not the bedroom though.  She couldn’t stand the thought of him watching her while she slept.  And if Jeremy was watching her anywhere in the apartment, he was getting an eyeful.  Brian was insatiable.

And bored.

He was currently digging through her hall closet looking for new forms of entertainment and pretending not to pout because she had refused to have sex with him until she finished entering the data from three weeks ago.  Because according to Brian, he didn’t pout.  Uh-huh.  Sure.

She watched him pull a red and black plastic guitar from the deep recesses of the closet.  She gave him grief about distracting her, but most of it was her fault.  She liked looking at him.  Liked it when he gave Wile E. Coyote advice.  Liked it when he got excited by a home run, jumped to his feet and dumped his popcorn on the floor.  Liked the way he put ketchup on everything and didn’t complain when she overcooked his scrambled eggs.  Liked the way he looked at her when he decided it was time to compose yet another piece of music.  She couldn’t think of a single reason why she shouldn’t be consumed by the man. Except fear.

“What’s this?” he asked, holding up the miniature plastic guitar.  “Do you have a video game system?  Have you been holding out on me?”

“It’s in there somewhere.  I had to put it away because I’d waste hours playing the damned thing.”

She set her data aside again and helped him find the console, wires, controllers and games.  She actually had a lot of games.  She wished she would have thought to keep him occupied with the game system earlier.

“I didn’t know you were a gamer,” he said.  He looked pleased.  As if he’d just discovered a treasure map and the X was standing right beside him.

“Were, yes.  I had to break my addiction to games.”

“You don’t want to play with me?”

“Maybe later.  I still need to get that data entered.”

He pouted, though he continually claimed he never pouted.  “I think you need to retire.”

“Retire?  How am I supposed to support myself if I retire?  I’m only thirty-five years old.”

“I’ll support you.”

She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.  She shoved the video game system into his gut.  “Go play,” she demanded.  “I’ve got to get my work done.  We’ll be back on the road in six days and then I’ll have even more data to enter.”

He kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth to caress the tip of her tongue.  Her knees went weak and the expected heat, moisture, and achiness settled between her thighs.  He drew away and gazed down at her, his eyes glassy with passion.

“When I’m done entering my data, we’ll play strip Guitar Hero,” she promised.

“Strip Guitar Hero?  Never heard of it.”

“I just made it up.  You better go practice.  You don’t want to be totally naked, while I’m still fully clothed.”

“You think you can beat me?”

She grinned.  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

She forced herself to concentrate on her work and not laugh at her lover as every note he missed on the game was met with a different expletive.

“I think a real guitar is easier than this piece of shit,” he growled.  Missed another note.  “Son of a fuck!”

He’d started mixing expletives at this point.

“Maybe you should play the Sinners song on there,” she suggested.

“I’ll make a real ass of myself then,” he said.  “Unable to play my own composition on a frickin’ plastic guitar.”  Missed a note.  “Assbitch!”

“You should try easy mode until you get used to it.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Of course not.”

“You think you can do better?”

“I think my seven-year-old nephew can do better.”

“Low blow, Myr.”

She giggled.

“Besides I didn’t ask about your nephew.  I asked if you can do better.”

She sighed and shoved her data aside.  Again.  She’d never get this finished with him around.  She grabbed her spare guitar controller–a black and white one–and plugged it into the console.

“Prepare to get naked,” she said.

“I’m always prepared to get naked when you’re around.”  He leaned over and kissed her temple.

She was a little out of practice, but still better than he was.  She beat him at every song they played.  She requested he remove his belt first, both boots, both socks, and his shirt.  He was down to his jeans and boxers while she was still fully clothed.  He took to cheating–licking her face during any sustained note.  Free Bird had a lot of sustained notes.  She wiped her face on her shoulder again and missed another string of notes.

“Knock it off,” she growled.  “Stop being a sore loser.”

When the song finally ended, he came out two percent in the lead.  “Hah, I beat you!  I want your panties.”

“I have to remove my pants to take my panties off.”

“Exactly.  I beat you.  Beat you.  Beat yoooou.”  He pointed at her.  “You have to do what I say.”

“You’re a sore loser, but you’re an even worse winner,” she grumbled.

She peeled her yoga pants down her thighs.  While she was removing her panties, Brian stole her pants and stuffed them down the front of his loose-fitting jeans.

“Hey,” she complained, “give those back.”

She stuck her hand in his pants, and he caught her wrist.  “I think they’re deeper than that,” he said, guiding her hand into his boxer shorts.

Her fingers brushed the warm, smooth skin of his cock.  She stroked him until he grew hard in her hand and then moved away to start the next song.  Apparently, having a hard-on improved his skills, or standing in the living room with a bare ass broke her concentration.  Whatever the reason, he beat her again.

“Why didn’t you tell me to strum both up and down?” he asked.

“You weren’t strumming up and down?  No wonder you keep missing notes.”

He grinned.  “I want your bra.”

She weaseled out of her bra without removing her shirt and tossed it at him.  “Heh, you thought you could steal my shirt too, didn’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter.  I can beat you now.”

When he figured out that he could use hammer-ons and pull-offs in the next song, Myrna realized she’d never get him out of his pants.  At least not by beating him at Guitar Hero.

“Well, I’m butt-assed-naked now,” she said, peeling her shirt off over her head and hitting him in the side of the head with it.  “You win.”

He pulled her pants out of his jeans and tossed them at her.  “You still have your pants.”

“You sure are cocky now that you don’t have to resort to cheating,” she grumbled.

“I’m having fun,” he said.  He started the next song.

She scowled.  “Are you saying you’d rather play this game than get me naked?”

“No, I’m saying I want to get you naked by beating you.  Which is surprisingly easy.”  He grinned at her.

Apparently, it was easy.  She’d been naked through several songs when she finally got him out of his jeans.  When she beat him on the next song, and he shed his boxers, she suspected he let her win.

“Did you let me win?” she asked.

“Maybe.  Now we play for sexual favors, right?  I’d say you already owe me a few.”

“No one said we were playing for sexual favors,” she said, taking her guitar off over her head.

“You don’t wanna?”  His non-existent pout made an appearance.

“I have work to do,” she reminded him.

He shrugged and switched to one player mode.  She sat on the sofa, still ass-naked, and reached for her laptop.  She couldn’t keep her eyes off the other naked ass in the room. While she attempted to concentrate on the task at hand, he played his video game nonchalantly in the buff.  Damn him anyway.  She set her computer aside and moved to stand behind him.  She ran her fingers over his hard chest, flat belly, the ridges of his hipbones.  She loved his narrow hips, especially when they were nestled between her thighs.  She stroked his hips up and down with the palms of her hand, then shifted her touch to his firm buttocks.  She dropped a kiss on his shoulder blade.

“I thought you had work to do,” he murmured.

She didn’t take his bait, just kept touching him.  Sliding both hands up his back, over his shoulders, down his hard biceps.  She pinched his nipples between her thumb and the side of her index finger, and then raked her nails down his belly.  He groaned, his plastic guitar now resting at an odd angle as he grew hard with desire.  She grinned to herself, hands moving over his hips and inner thighs, but avoiding his cock.

Song Failed, the TV announced.

“You’re not doing so well, Master Sinclair,” she teased.

He sucked a breath through his teeth as her hands moved over his hips and back to his buttocks.  He started the next song, playing with renewed concentration.  She circled his body and kissed his jaw, fingers trailing up his spine as she gazed up at him, suggestion in her eyes.

“I can’t see,” he complained, craning his neck to see the TV over her head.

“Sorry,” she said, dropping to her knees in front of him.  She didn’t touch him but he missed a long string of notes when she eased his guitar up to reveal the effect her teasing had on him.  She gripped his buttocks with both hands and directed his engorged flesh into her mouth.

“Ah,” he breathed in.  The plastic guitar landed somewhere on the floor and his fingers twisted in her hair to drive himself deeper.

As hard as it was for her to ignore him, she knew he couldn’t ignore her either.  She wouldn’t allow it.


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Backstage Pass Excerpt 2 – Creative Composing (Sex Scene)

Excerpt from

Backstage Pass

by Olivia Cunning


Brian bent to retrieve his pants—giving Myrna a spectacular view of his perfect, bare ass—and fished a condom out of his pocket. Her breath caught. He tore the package open with his teeth and unrolled the condom over his cock. Such a shame to cover its perfection from her view, but it meant…

He climbed back onto the bed and settled his narrow hips between her thighs.

“You want me?” she whispered around the knot in her throat.

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” He brushed her hair from her damp cheeks, and kissed her tenderly. His lips tasted and smelled like her. So intimate. He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “I think the question is do you still want me, or did I overdo it a little?”

“I still want you. So much,” she whispered. “I’m not sure I can move though.”

He grinned crookedly. “I’ll do all the moving at first.”

He rocked his hips forward, probing for her opening without using his hands for guidance. When he found her, he slid into her slowly, holding her shoulders as he burrowed deeper and deeper.

“Mmmmm,” he murmured and buried his face in her neck. “Certified Grade A.”

Her brow creased. “What?”


His strokes were slow and deep. Slow and deep. Slow and deep. Stretching her wide, withdrawing. He more than filled her. She’d never been with a man as well-endowed as he was. Perhaps it was his size that thrilled her. Nope, definitely the way he used it. She groaned—her excitement building again. His quiet gasps in her ear sent her lust spiraling out of control. Her hands moved to his ass, digging into his flesh as she bucked her hips against him. His gasps grew shaky and punctuated. His strokes faster and harder. And harder. And harder. Harder. God yes, harder. Make me feel you, Brian. Drive everything away but you.

Myrna’s head banged into the headboard. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, rubbing her head with the palm of his hand. “Too hard?”

She shook her head vigorously. “I like it.”

He dragged her sideways across the bed, turning her partially on her side, so that he straddled one of her legs. He wrapped her other leg around his waist.

“Oh,” she gasped at the change in stimulation. She liked that, too.

He thrust into her, biting his lip as he pounded against her. Soon his hard thrusts pushed her beyond the edge of the bed. She caught herself with her hand to keep from tumbling to the floor.

“Damn it,” he growled, and pulled her back up onto the bed. “I can’t seem to get deep enough. I want… I need…” He gasped and ground his hips as he pushed into her. His fingers dug into her hips as held her steady, seeking to possess her fully.

“Let me try.” She pushed him onto his back and sighed in frustration when he slid out of her. Emptiness replaced the perfect way he filled her. She hurried to straddle his hips and sank down on his thick cock, taking him as deep as he would go, stretched to her limits. Her head tilted back in ecstasy.

His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her down, urging her body to take more of him. “Deeper,” he groaned.

She bounced against him, taking him a centimeter at a time until, at last, she had accepted all of him.

“Now you have all of me,” he whispered, looking up at her through heavy eyelids. His fingers traced paths up and down her spine, making her shudder. “Ride me, baby. Show me how you like it.”

He cared how she liked it? She didn’t understand why that turned her on so much, but she rode him. Lifting her hips and grinding downward, gyrating to stimulate her clit against his pubic bone. She used him for her pleasure, ignoring his needs. She just wanted to get off. An orgasm rippled through her. She cried out, but didn’t stop. Again. She wanted to come again with him inside her. She took him faster, rotating slightly with each downward stroke. She wasn’t sure when she’d started chanting his name. “Brian. Brian.” After her second orgasm? “Oh, Brian.” Her third? “God, Brian. Yes.”

His hips rose off the bed to meet her strokes. He bit his lip, his head tossed back. She’d never seen anything sexier in her life. Watching his expression was almost better than the waves of pleasure coursing through her own body.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” he shouted, and grabbed her firmly by the hips to stop her gyrating thrusts. “Stop, stop. Give me a minute.”

She slapped him hard on the chest. “Don’t hold back on me, goddammit. I wanna make you come.”

“No, no. Not yet. Not yet. Damn.” He pulled her off him and tossed her onto her back in the center of the bed. “Shit, shit, I’m going to lose it.”

Lose what? His erection? Not bloody likely. He was as hard as granite.

He rolled on top of her and slid inside her again. Her eyes drifted closed. Her back arched, rubbing her belly against his. The fingers of his left hand tapped rhythmically against her shoulder. His strokes were different this time, a three-quarter time beat, if she wasn’t mistaken, and he was humming under his breath.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Shh. Shh. I’ve almost got it.”

She watched him for a moment, trying to figure out the sudden change in him. “Are you hearing music in your head?”

“Shh, sweetheart. Please.”

She fell silent. Whatever he was doing was obviously important. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the perfect rhythm of his deep strokes. The riff he hummed in her ear was outstanding. Sensual. Even more sensual than his usual work. She’d never heard anything like it before, and she was a collector of excellent guitar segments.

He paused and looked down at her. “I need something to write on.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Baby, I haven’t written a new riff in months. You are beyond awesome.” He grinned down at her, pumping into her hard and steady. “Making love to this perfect body stimulates more than my cock.”

“Thanks.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I guess.”

He reached for a pen on the side table and uncapped it. He wiped the sweat from her body with the sheet and drew a straight line across her chest. He then added a series of dots on, above, and below the line. Scribbled letters appeared here and there. E. C. C#. She just watched him, too surprised to protest. The line of musical notes continued across her breasts, under her breasts, several lines along her belly.

He paused, his eyes drifting closed. “God, you feel good, Myrna. So good.” She planted her feet on the bed, lifted her hips and gyrated. “Yeah.” He rose up on his knees slightly and thrust forward, grinding deep. “Perfect,” he murmured. “Take me. All of me. Inside.” He began to pump into her again, withdrawing only slightly as if he didn’t want to move at all. “I hear you,” he whispered.

Her brow furrowed. Her panting? Is that what she meant?

He pulled out unexpectedly, leaving her empty. She groaned in protest.

“Turn over,” he demanded breathlessly.


“I’m out of space and this solo you’ve inspired…” He shook his ink pen at her.

She laughed. “You’re crazy.”

“All geniuses are.”

She smiled and rolled onto her stomach. She’d thought he’d just start writing on her back, but he eased her onto her knees and slid his cock inside her again. He thrust into her with the same rhythm as before, drawing notes across the skin of her back while she groaned. This man would be her downfall. She knew it with a certainty. She rocked back against him, loving the way his balls slapped against her with each steady stroke.

“Hold still,” he complained.

“Then stop screwing me so well.”

“I need the rhythm to get the spacing of the notes right. I could call Sticks for a tempo, if you’d like.”

“I prefer this method.” She concentrated on holding still for him so he could write and maintain his rhythm at the same time.

“God, me, too. But I need to come soon. I’m about to explode. Do you have any idea how fucking amazing you are?”

He scattered line upon line of notes across her back and then tossed the pen across the room. He leaned forward to squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipples as he deserted his music-writing tempo for quick shallow strokes. His moans grew louder and louder as he gave himself over to pleasure.

With one final deep thrust, he cried out, “Myrna. Oh, God. Oh God, yes.”

She felt him shudder violently behind her and regretted that she couldn’t see his face. He grasped her hips and held her still, grinding deeply until his spasms calmed.

He pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside her, eyes closed, breathing hard. “That was fantastic.” He drew her down beside him and placed a tender kiss on her shoulder. “I’d cuddle with you, but I don’t want to sweat off my riff and solo.”

She laughed. “That must be the first time that excuse has ever been used to avoid after-sex cuddling.”

He took her face between both hands and kissed her reverently. Never had she been kissed reverently before.

“It’s the truth though. I’d love to hold you close for hours.”

She smiled. A sweet sex god. What more could a girl want? He kissed her again.

“Ah Myrna,” he murmured. “I think my muse resides deep, deep inside you.”

“You sure know how to use her in exactly the right way.”


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Posted by on March 5, 2011 in Backstage Pass Excerpts, Sex Scenes


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