Free Extract of Portia Da Costa's In Too Deep
The book of the month for June is the fabulous, five-star rated In Too Deep by Portia Da Costa.
Well written and utterly filthy, whether you're new to erotica or a long time reader, In Too Deep is the perfect book for you.
Portia has created lead character, Gwendolyne, to be someone we can all identify with and easily imagine ourselves indulging in the fantastic sex that she gets to enjoy!
In this extract, we join Gwendolyne in a hotel romp and discover the precise details of one of her ultimate fantasies:
It feels downright peculiar, and vaguely perverted, to be lying here, draped across the bed, while Daniel surfs the channels, but I'm a telly addict too and I can't help but watch the screen, even though I'm half-naked and on show, like an odalisque.
He flicks through a few things. Movies. A concert. Boxing, ugh. And then, inevitably, he finds the porn. First we drop in on a pair of busty but sylphlike blondes, kissing each other messily and writhing against each other like snakes. But this doesn't appeal to Daniel and he jumps back to the menu and scrolls down a little.
Next we find a guy I know to be the famous Ron Jeremy putting it to another blonde in a vigorous doggy fashion.
'Seen this one,' says Daniel, surprising me. Whoever knew that everyone's favourite academic was into skin movies?
Back to the menu again, and flick, flick, flick, he highlights 'Live Feed'. What the hell is that? Unfortunately all the screen shows us is the legend 'Channel scrambled'.
Before I can ask exactly what 'Live Feed' entails, Daniel bounces off the bed, fishes in his jacket pocket and pulls out a key-card, much like the one that admitted us to this room. He jams it in a slot on the front of the television, then stabs the button again as he sprints back to the bed and flings himself alongside me, his eyes on the screen rather than my partially clothed body. Great.
The image snaps to a strangely familiar one. Chintz. Soft light. Two lovers. One dressed, one partially naked. It's a webcam feed. Not of us, thank God, but clearly streaming from somewhere inside the hotel.
'Oh no, it's him!'
Daniel's attention flicks back to me and he looks at me curiously.
'Do you know him?' He nods at the screen, on which the masked yet recognisable man is looming over a woman I've also seen before, and recently. In a room much like ours, the suave yet obviously insanely reckless Robert Stone, Borough Director of Finance, is about to spank his blonde beloved, the pretty girl I saw him with just a short while ago. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a leather domino-style mask which makes something go thump inside me, reminding me of my fantasies. It's the sort of thing that would probably disguise his identity... unless you already knew it. His partner is draped across his knee, wearing a basque, a similar but more dainty mask, with a fine lace trim, and not much else.
The colour definition of the scene is surprisingly good, given the lighting conditions, and it's easy to see he's already been spanking her for a bit, because her enviably slim and toned bottom is pink and seriously hot-looking. She's shaking too, as if she's snivelling in pain. But, when she turns her face, allowing us to see her expression but not her disciplinarian, her eyes are sparkling with excitement within the frame of her exotic mask, and she's smiling a happy little smile to herself. She loves it!
'Jeepers! Spanking! That's hot,' murmurs Daniel beside me, echoing my thoughts entirely, and adjusts the way he's sitting slightly, as if the kinky scene is already getting to his nether regions. As it's getting to mine.
Stone gives his lady-love's rump a lazy slap and she jerks across his lap, swirling her hips. Her mouth moves as if she's moaning, but there's no soundtrack, presumably allowing the couple to retain some degree of privacy in a blatantly exhibitionistic scenario. I have to bite my lips to stop myself moaning, and, when I tear my eyes away from the screen for a second, I discover that Daniel's actually watching me, not them.
'Does that sort of thing excite you?' His eyes flash behind his glasses, telling me that the idea of that excites him. He inclines over me, his glance darting from the screen to me and back again, to and fro. As Robert Stone lays on a couple more whacks, in quick succession, Daniel reaches over and slides his hand between my thighs. Testing me.
He finds what I expect he was expecting, and this time I can't prevent myself moaning. I'm wet and slippery, hot and ready for his touch. When I wriggle and try to press my hand over his own, he says 'Uh oh!' and gives me a stern little look. It's complex, full of humour, yet slightly forbidding, and I wonder if I'm in the presence of just as skilled a disciplinarian as the one who's going about his business in the webcam feed.