Tag Archives: sexy

Happy St. Patrick’s Day…

Just sayin…

The Reunion (2)…

You can find earlier excerpts of The Reunion here

It was half past 12 before Jen showed up, looking gorgeous and voluptuous and perfectly made up, waving to me with her French manicured hand, wearing some most-likely couture outfit.  She’s always been a little on the extra-curvy side, but she has a wonderful sense of fashion and has the money to choose clothing that looks as though it was made just for her.  Today it’s a beautifully tailored silky looking wrap dress, skimming her curves and draping around her figure without clinging, perfect for her job as a sales rep for a big pharmaceutical company.  And her open toed booties look adorable and probably cost as much as my grocery budget for the week!

Okay, yes, maybe I’m a little jealous.  But by the time I got the kids and hubby out the door I barely had the time or energy to shower and blow dry my hair and find nice black slacks and a sweater to wear.  A quick swipe of mascara and lip gloss and I was out the door.  I was just early enough to snag a parking spot in front of Le Bistro.  It’s a cute little ladies lunch kind of place not too far from her work, with a great roasted beet and goat cheese salad and cozy booths where we could talk without interruption.

I just can’t believe that Jen is really planning to entice a guy she doesn’t even know to just sleep with her.  I mean, I know I’m old-fashioned, but, at 38, that smacks of desperation to me.  And after 17 years of marriage, I can’t see myself being with anyone else.  Of course, Jen has been divorced for a while now and yes, I get that women have needs.  I just think she should be sensible.  And careful.

We do the best girlfriend hug thing and she looks at me closely and says, “God, Beth, are you pregnant?  You have that dreamy look in your eyes.” I practically blush but assure her that no, it’s just all the great extra-curricular activity I’ve had going on.  I’m pretty sure I’m not pregnant, anyway…

“Well, see,” Jen says, “that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you.  I miss all those wonderful sextivities in my life lately.   I haven’t met anybody that I’m the least bit interested in.  So that’s why I’ve decided I’m gonna go home for my class reunion and just be open to seeing what happens.  I wish I could meet somebody wonderful and fall in love, but I’m not 20 anymore.  And yeah, a little excitement in my life would be nice.”

“But, Jen, a stranger? Do you really think that’s smart?  Or safe?”

“Aww, c’mon, Beth, I’m talking about maybe hooking up with somebody I went to high school with, not some random stranger I bump into on the street,” she says.

“That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about, ” I frown. “People our age don’t hook up.  We date.   We get to know each other before tumbling into bed.”

“Honey,” she says, smiling a little sadly at me, “single people any age hook up nowadays.  It’s not like they’re coming over to meet my daddy before we go out!  And I’m divorced.  I’m pretty sure the guys will figure out that I’ve had sex before.”

“Well, of course, you’re a grown-up, you can lead whatever kind of life you want,” I say more frostily than I intended.  “I’m sorry, that sounded really bitchy.  You know I love you!”

“I know you do, Beth.  And I love you, too!  My life is fine, just a little boring lately.  And work is not as satisfying as it used to be.  There have been so many changes at my company lately that I’m not sure if my job is even safe anymore.  And if I don’t have my job, what’s left?  But I am a grown-up, one who’s tired of just seeing BOB all the time.  So trust me to be responsible, okay?”

“And who is Bob and why haven’t we met him?” I’m frankly a little offended since I share almost everything about my life with Jen.  She laughs back at me. “Oh, Beth, not who, what — BOB is short for battery operated boyfriend!”

I know I’m looking confused, because she leans in and says in a conspiratorial whisper, trying hard to hide a smile, “You know, my vibrator!”

Virtual Lover…

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She strolled into their bedroom after her shower, fluffy white robe tied neatly at her waist, twirling one of the sash ends lazily in a circle.  Long, slim legs and feet bare, toes painted siren red.  Smooth dark hair swung over one shoulder with each step she took.

He looked up from his book, startlingly blue eyes alight with interest as she bent forward to kiss him.

Book forgotten, he hooked one finger into the gaping neck of her robe, pulling her closer and closer until she could feel his warm breath by her ear.

Shivering with delight, she gasped as his cool hands slid inside her robe, unerringly finding soft, damp curves.   As the robe fell away, she heard his sharp intake of breath, felt his approval as she snuggled into his embrace.

Yes, she thought with satisfaction, that flowed well.  And tapping her siren red-painted fingernails on the keyboard, she proceeded to write the next page.

A Kardashian-Inspired Limerick……

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Once upon a time using smoke and mirrors

Appeared a family of girls with ample rears

Their taste in men was iffy

Sex tapes inspired at least a stiffy

And selfies earned more than their share of leers!

~Diane D.

Photo from Pixabay

In response to Mind and Matters Limerick Challenge beginning with the words Once Upon a Time…

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Harper Searcy didn’t want to fall for a soldier, but she couldn’t forget her hot Navy SEAL friend or their one night stand. When the U.S. Embassy in Pakistan where she works comes under attack by terrorists, there is only one man she knows who would move heaven and earth to rescue her: Michael “Mad Dog” Wainwright.
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Julie Ann Walker is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of award-winning romantic suspense. She has won the Book Buyers Best Award, been nominated for the National Readers Choice Award, the Bookseller’s Best Award, the Australian Romance Reader Awards, and the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award. Her books have been described as “alpha, edgy, and downrighthot.” Most days you can find Julie on her bicycle along the lake shore in Chicago or blasting away at her keyboard, trying to wrangle her capricious imagination into submission.Be sure to sign up for Julie’s occasional newsletter at: www.julieannwalker.com