My first erotic monster story!
Sitting through Maxine’s latest theatre performance about a dragon is an experience her friend dreads, but Maxine’s promise of a surprise for her after the show has piqued her interest. After a production that both pleases and surprises, Maxine—in full dragon costume—motions to meet her friend through a stage side door. In the dark and under the stage, the friend’s desire for Maxine is finally realized…and then some.
Exclusive Excerpt:
I gulp as her claw becomes the flat of her finger, tracing the outline of my mouth and further sending me alight. I want to close my eyes and accept the responses from my body, but my mind tells me I should see who causes them and understand why. But all I see is the dragon and the light of the lantern flickering, appearing and disappearing as the shape of Maxine’s costume continues to sway back and forth, repeatedly blocking it out.
Why knowingly trigger me? Maxine is never cruel, nor does she make decisions lightly. She’s methodical in all aspects of her life, carefully choosing every move before its execution. I think surprise and want to melt into the floor. There could be no greater gift than finally experiencing the touch from the single most desirable person in my life, and no better place for her first experience with the same sex than the exceptionally quiet, still, and private dark under the stage where Maxine has just fabulously performed.
A single clawed digit pushes into my mouth, spreading my lips apart and caressing over the flat of my tongue. I create an O shape around it and curl around her finger. The front of my tongue slides smoothly over her pointed tip as she withdraws, and I enjoy the light smacking sound our actions make from my suction once she’s left my mouth. My mind wanders as I imagine gliding in and out of multiple places…extra-long caresses reaching extra, extra deep…If this is really happening, I tell myself I cannot let her down.
I reach with both my hands to grasp the hand still floating in front of my face. I kiss each knuckle in turn, and then lick the space between her thumb and pointer finger with the tip of my tongue. The texture of the costume is rough in the opposite direction of the layered fabric, and smooth as glass down the other way. I taste something I imagine to be the remnants of stage makeup she might’ve helped a fellow actor draw on, but it’s the warmth radiating from underneath that lures me further; I want to feel it all over my body. Grasping her hand tightly, I place it over my face, guide it down over my features to my neck, and push into the dip of my shirt collar. I feel the trail linger like a mild burn long after her hand cascades onto my shirt fabric and pauses above my rapidly beating heart.
My eyes closed sometime during the action, but I open them to confess what I’ve always wanted to say, “I want you.”
Maxine doesn’t speak a word, but her head tilts from side to side again. I wish she’d say something—anything—to assure me of her intentions. A few touches, some light kisses—they mean less to me without the emotional connection inflicted by words. I’d like to hear her tell me she’s always secretly desired me, been curious. A confession of mutual love would send me over the moon….
About Angora Shade:
Why knowingly trigger me? Maxine is never cruel, nor does she make decisions lightly. She’s methodical in all aspects of her life, carefully choosing every move before its execution. I think surprise and want to melt into the floor. There could be no greater gift than finally experiencing the touch from the single most desirable person in my life, and no better place for her first experience with the same sex than the exceptionally quiet, still, and private dark under the stage where Maxine has just fabulously performed.
A single clawed digit pushes into my mouth, spreading my lips apart and caressing over the flat of my tongue. I create an O shape around it and curl around her finger. The front of my tongue slides smoothly over her pointed tip as she withdraws, and I enjoy the light smacking sound our actions make from my suction once she’s left my mouth. My mind wanders as I imagine gliding in and out of multiple places…extra-long caresses reaching extra, extra deep…If this is really happening, I tell myself I cannot let her down.
I reach with both my hands to grasp the hand still floating in front of my face. I kiss each knuckle in turn, and then lick the space between her thumb and pointer finger with the tip of my tongue. The texture of the costume is rough in the opposite direction of the layered fabric, and smooth as glass down the other way. I taste something I imagine to be the remnants of stage makeup she might’ve helped a fellow actor draw on, but it’s the warmth radiating from underneath that lures me further; I want to feel it all over my body. Grasping her hand tightly, I place it over my face, guide it down over my features to my neck, and push into the dip of my shirt collar. I feel the trail linger like a mild burn long after her hand cascades onto my shirt fabric and pauses above my rapidly beating heart.
My eyes closed sometime during the action, but I open them to confess what I’ve always wanted to say, “I want you.”
Maxine doesn’t speak a word, but her head tilts from side to side again. I wish she’d say something—anything—to assure me of her intentions. A few touches, some light kisses—they mean less to me without the emotional connection inflicted by words. I’d like to hear her tell me she’s always secretly desired me, been curious. A confession of mutual love would send me over the moon….
About Angora Shade:
Angora Shade is a multi-published American author living in what she lovingly refers to as "Sheep Shit Nowhere" Europe. In an attempt to add some spice to her small town life, Ms Shade began writing explicit erotica as a form of entertainment. Exploring the boundaries of acceptable sexual literature, she often seeks to create stories that not only entertain others, but also expose and push against the negative stigma surrounding sex in modern day society. She believes that sex, in literature, art, personal thought, and physical nature, should be celebrated and expressed freely and as easily as any God given freedom. Her favorite themes in writing include revenge, self-discovery, alternative materials for love play/bdsm, as well as anything that produces a good tingle, sizzle, or laugh. When not writing, Ms Shade enjoys red wine, travel, dancing, classic cartoons, baking, and creating fine art.
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