Wednesday Briefs – Picnic at Midnight

Hi Folks, Victoria Blisse here.. Thanks firstly to my lovely hubby for hosting me this week so I can join in with the Wednesday Briefs. I managed to book myself up on my own blog so the awesome Mit has rescued me by letting me flash at SexyReads.
Ooo er. The prompt word today is: Haunted House. This is what I’ve done with it!
Picnic at Midnight by Victoria Blisse.
It’s not really haunted. It’s not really haunted. It’s not really haunted.
Are you convinced yet because I really am not. It’s cold, it’s old and it is creaky. I don’t want to be here at all but John asked. Well, he didn’t ask he kind of dared me. He said I was too chicken to go to the old Wilson house. I told him I was not too chicken and that I didn’t even believe in ghosts anyway.
So he told me he’d meet me here at midnight on Valentine’s day. I should have lied and said I had plans.
I could have made up an ardent suitor but I didn’t because, well, because when I’m around John my brain doesn’t function correctly. It’s why I never volunteer to help him on projects at the office. Not because I wouldn’t love to spend time with him, no, it’s because I’d be useless and end up getting myself fired. I’d spend so much time admiring his wide shoulders, tight arse and blue as the sky eyes I’d miss something important in a contract and Boom! I’d be out on my ear.
So I took his stupid dare to spend time with him without getting fired. I swear lust makes my brain melt it really does and I should be beyond all this now at my age and with a failed marriage behind me. I’ve been there, done that and been cheated on. Yet still my body betrays me. As much as I want to live out the rest of my days as a happy spinster, answering to no one but myself I find more and more that I fantasise about love. Not just sex, though I do a lot of that too, truth be told. But love and romance and kisses and hand holding.
I’m a lost cause I really am.
What was that noise? I realise asking you is completely useless, you’re not here and I’m just talking to myself but somehow it makes me feel better to pretend there is someone else here.
Is there someone here?
Oh hell, now I’m asking myself questions, this is not going to end well.
“BOO!”
The noise startles me and I scream. Loudly.
“It’s only me, Penny, it’s only me.”
I don’t stop screaming immediately I am too busy scaring myself shitless to actually pay attention to what is happening.
“John?” I gasp.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“You bastard,” I yell and slap his arm, “you monstrous bastard.”
“Sorry, Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Bollocks!” I usually am more ladylike, I assure you. “You jumped out at me and yelled ‘Boo.’ You don’t do that just to say a friendly hello!”
“Okay, okay, you got me there. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Sod.” I mumble.
“Let me make it up to you, come and see why I brought you here.”
I take his proffered hand and he guides me down a long, dusty corridor to a huge door that is standing ajar. There’s soft light streaming through, beckoning us in.
It’s a huge room, like a ballroom. The floor has been swept, at least the centre has been. Candles sit in several candlesticks around the room casting shadows and heat. On the floor in the centre of it all is a blanket and on that is set a bottle of wine, glasses and food. Grapes and chocolates, savoury snacks and fancy bits of stuff on tiny slices of toast.
“What do you think?” He asks, sweeping a hand towards the picnic. “I know you like a picnic, I know you like history so I thought I’d combine the two. It’s also a little warmer in here than trying to have a real picnic outdoors.”
“It’s super,” I reply when I regain the use of words, “but I didn’t know-I mean I didn’t expect –well, I didn’t think you do this for me.”
“I don’t know how you’ve not noticed, I’m always so tongue tied around you.” He smiles at me, his cheeks flush and I feel a rush of excitement.
“I never noticed because I was dumb struck myself. I swear I’ve not said an intelligent word to you since we met.”
“Oh, no, no, you’re always so nice to me, so witty too. I didn’t know how to respond so I didn’t.”
“This is a pretty damn good response though,” I reply with a nod.
“Well, let’s sit down and enjoy.”
I sit on the blanket and he sits right next to me. As he pours champagne I nibble on a breadstick. It all looks so good but I don’t want to eat, well, least I don’t want to eat the food in front of me.
He passes me a glass then takes his own and tilts it forward to tap against mine. Somehow we both completely miss and end up splashing each other with bubbles.
“Oh I’m sorry.”
“No, it was my fault,” he leans in as I do, we both fuss and mutter excuses until our lips meet.
His fingers grip the wet material of my shirt, I run my hand down the centre of his damp chest and our lips dance completely unaware of the damp, the chill and the tumbled over glasses. Sometimes you can say it best when you’re not speaking at all.
And now, I don’t need an imaginary companion anymore, I have a real one and I want to concentrate on him and his fingers as they undo my blouse. Goodbye, friend.
- Elyzabeth VaLey m/f
- Sara York m/m
- Nephylim m/m
- Scarlett Knight m/f
- MC Houle m/m
- Julie Lynn Hayes m/f
Nancy Adams Blisse Kiss

As part of the BIG Blisse Kiss going on at BlisseKiss.co.uk We are very pleased to be hosting a steamy kiss from new author Nancy Adams and her Time-Traveling Historical No Matter When.
Nancy’s addiction for a good trash novel began in her late-teens when her grandmother gave her a bag of Harlequin Romance books. She was hooked and spent the next few years lurking in the dark corners of used bookstores searching for her next fix. Until, one marriage and two kids later, her own ideas had her jumping up at 3 am (much to her husband’s annoyance) and typing them into her laptop. Beside her husband and children, Nancy has three passions, rearranging furniture, buying bed linens and, of course, writing. Nancy lives in Eastern Ontario with her family and two over sized lap dogs.The Saucy Snog:
Her lips were the softest thing he had ever touched, and they tasted like heaven. He watched as her eyelids became heavy and slowly closed. Except for his hand under her chin and his mouth on hers, they weren’t touching, but he was acutely aware of the heat coming from her body. It was strong and alluring and he could feel it start to burn his chest. He cupped the side of her face and deepened the kiss, pressing his mouth firmly against hers, just savouring the feel of her mouth. He slipped his other hand under the back of her shirt and up the smooth skin of her back. Was she this soft everywhere?
She tentatively placed her hands on his chest as he pulled her closer. Her nervous fear once again mixed with that delicate scent. The same sweet fragrance entered his lungs every time he kissed her. Was it arousal? How could it be? Lilly was scared of him—yet here she was in his arms again. There was no way she could be experiencing two such different emotions at the same time. It didn’t make any sense.
He pulled back, waiting for her to open her eyes. He wanted to see if he was right, but when she slowly opened her eyes, those sultry brown beauties were all he could focus on. His cock swelled as he bit out, “Open your mouth for me, Lilly.” He brushed her bottom lipand chin with his thumb and plunged his tongue into her mouth as he kissed her a second time.
Holding her tight against him, Gabe stepped back, pinning her against the wall next to the open door. Releasing her, he braced himself in place with his forearms on the wall next to her head. Lilly’s arms were trapped between their bodies, her palms lying flat on his chest. The touch was light, feminine, and he was enjoying it until her fingers curled and her nails lightly scraped his chest. His cock jerked. It was all he could to keep his hips from thrusting forward. He probed the inside of her velvet mouth with his tongue, fighting to keep his groan trapped in his chest. Lilly needed him to go slowly. He wanted to give her that but damn, he was struggling, because he needed more than just her kiss.
Running his hand up her side, he teased the rounded side of her breast with the backs of his fingers. She trembled in his arms. He inhaled as his lips covered hers. The nervous fear was stronger. He wanted to continue, hoping he was wrong, that she was trembling from desire. He stroked her mouth again, tongue slowly circling hers, and lightly teased the side of her breast again, waiting for the reaction he knew would come.
Nancy Adams
No Matter When
Book one in the Out of Time Series
Moments before her death, medieval history student Lilly Marten mysteriously arrives in the year 1503, where soldier Gabriel Sutherland has been expecting her arrival.
Standing on the battlements of a 16th century Keep was the last place Gabriel Sutherland should be. Then again, being ‘shifted’ to 1503 seconds before a rocket blew his ass to bits wasn’t something he had envisioned either. Still, he was surviving the only way he knew how, as a soldier. Then Lilly arrived. Sweet, innocent Lilly. For a genetically superior soldier whose life had entailed of nothing but serving King and country, the arrival of Lilly proves too much for Gabe to ignore. For the first time in his life, Gabe can have a woman of his own and Lilly is the one.
Lilly Marten lives alone, her quiet life the result of a highly sensitive photographic memory. That changed when she arrived in the year 1503 seconds before Toronto’s popular C.N Tower came crashing down on top of her. Now she was never alone. Gabe was always near. With his unbelievably perfect features and intense green eyes, he is not a man easily ignored. Yet, uncertainty about her new life leaves Lilly with no choice but to put faith in a man she fears and whose strong physical presence causes her to desire more than just his trust.
Sunday Snog – Extra Lessons
More hot snogs can be found on BlisseKiss.co.uk & VictoriaBlisse.co.uk
It was a hot June afternoon, and Wimbledon was in full swing. Those who wished were allowed to watch the tennis on the school television, set up in the Latin classroom due to its relative darkness.
Rachel had little interest in tennis, apart from a fleeting delicious fantasy she’d once had about being on court, playing with her usual energy and inaccuracy in front of a large crowd, and then discovering that under her brief little shift dress she’d forgotten to wear any knickers… and that the ball boys were big, meaty lads who’d proceeded to utterly lose control at the sight of her tight little buttocks, and had ravished her most thoroughly on the hallowed grass of Centre Court.
Now, however, she sighed as she picked up her Physics books, and headed off to the dusty, deserted Science Wing for a lunchtime tutorial with Mr. Brennan. Only three weeks until her ‘A’ level, and she was still very behind in her studies, he said; Rachel’s parents had protestingly agreed to pay for extra private tuition.
She trudged up the stairs to the classroom, wrinkling her nose at the smell of gas and formaldehyde that came from the Biology Room, feeling hot, sticky and annoyed that she couldn’t be out lounging on the grass with her classmates, chatting idly about boys, and how far they’d gone….. wicked Fiona of course said she’d done it all the way with Bomber Harris, but Rachel had her doubts. She was now eighteen, but thanks to a careful upbringing had never yet had more than a casual snog with a boy. Her full young breasts tightened and tingled at the thought of being caressed by a man, and her nipples stiffened, poking through her sensible cotton bra and uniform shirt. Defiantly hitching her short, straight skirt a little higher up her long, tanned legs, she went into the classroom and sat down in the front row.
Mr. Brennan was as usual untidily dressed, his shirt sleeves rolled up above the elbow, his tie loosened, and his trousers rumpled. Rachel smiled to herself – at least today he’d remembered to do up his flies.
They’d giggled for weeks after the time he strode into the room, his shirt flapping out the opening, but even eagle-eyed Fiona couldn’t say she’d seen anything else…. but Rachel felt a little squirming warmth at the way his face had flushed deep red when he’d realised, and had turned his back to do himself up.
Still, he was a good teacher, and some of the girls even had crushes on him, defensively pointing out that he was ‘dead hunky’ even if he wasn’t tall. His shock of greying blonde hair was usually messy, and on the whole Rachel thought that as a specimen of manhood, he was probably a bit sad.
However, today he was there, anxious and flurried, and launched into teaching her the details of something she’d missed months before, firing questions at her to make sure she understood.
Ten minutes into the tutorial, he flung down his pen.
‘Look, come and draw it on the blackboard. You’ll understand it then’.
She uncrossed her legs, stood up, and took up the chalk he offered her. His fingers briefly touched hers – to her surprise, she felt an electric shock thrill at the contact. She drew out diagrams as he instructed, and he stood close to her, almost touching her, showing her how it worked. She suddenly felt hot, flushed and damp, particularly between the legs… this was ridiculous, and utterly unexpected, but she was getting amazingly aroused by him! They were alone in the building, and from the open windows she heard the faint voices of her friends, and from further off the drone of the television commentator at Wimbledon. But close, so close that he could reach out and touch her, was Mr. Brennan, the untidy, absent-minded but passionate teacher… she could feel his warmth, and smell his faint, spicy scent.
She stood frozen, unable to move or speak, just breathing swift, shallow breaths and staring at the blackboard. He moved closer to her, took the chalk from her fingers and laid it gently down.
‘I think you understand now?’ he murmured, as he took that final fateful step, and put his arms around her, drawing her close, his chest a warm hardness against her back, and lower down… oh god, lower down! She nearly fainted – he was excited, oh god, he was ERECT, pushing against her firm buttocks!
He kissed the back of her neck, and she sagged back in his arms, trembling and breathless, silent.
‘Well, Rachel? Do I make myself clear?’ he murmured as his big, rough hands caressed her breasts and flat belly, stroking her and holding her firmly against himself. His lips returning to nuzzle her neck as she panted and gasped with pleasure, her mewling noises of pleasure filling the room as he sucked harder upon the tender sweet flesh, his passion boiling for her as his cock throbbed in the confines of his trousers.
She parted her legs, almost sitting on the massive bulge at his groin – then reached around behind, and stroked it, feeling for the first time the hot, hard gland of a man. ‘yes…’ she whispered, and he turned her around, took her firmly in his arms and snogged her, his tongue darting hard and deep into her mouth, demanding her response. She moaned softly around his exploring tongue, and pressed close to him, her juices running freely, longing just to have him take her. With trembling fingers he unbuttoned her blouse, and pulled her bra up, releasing her full breasts, then bent to kiss and suck her nipples. She cried out in delight, every movement and touch of him opening up a new world of sexual pleasure that she’d only dreamed of before… then his hands were fumbling, lifting her skirt, diving inside her thin, tiny knickers, greedily exploring her mons and parting her cunt lips as his lips trailing kisses over her belly, feeling how wet and willing she was he longed to taste, to devour this tasty temptress before him.
Her eyes grew wide as she watched him lick and suck her juices from his fingers, the sight causing yet more juices to flow as she revelled in the delicious wickedness of the act and their shared passion.
A loud gasp escaped her lips as she suddenly felt his warm breath upon her panty covered cunt, as he pulled back the barrier it was his turn to gasp at the beauty of that wet juicy pussy, he eagerly licked his lips before descending upon hers, lapping hungrily at the succulent juices. He rained kisses down upon her plump pussy as his rough hands stroked the length of her long luscious legs.
‘You want to do it? All the way?’ he whispered, and she nodded, so aroused and hot-blooded that she ignored any vestiges of common sense.
‘Get ‘em off.’ he said, and she pulled off her knickers, kicking them onto the floor. She pulled up her skirt, and moved her hips, grinding her cunt down, moaning with pleasure and desire.
His thick fingers were hard, stiff, as they went back to exploring her tight little cunt, probing and pushing, thrusting deep inside her moving freely without the impedance of the past fabric barrier… with a rush of liquid joy she parted her legs, encouraging him, using her muscles to pull him further in, to clench tighter upon him…he groaned and gently withdrew his hand, tickling her stiff pink clitoris as he did so, then fumbled desperately with his flies.
‘I’ll do that’ she whispered, and carefully undid the button and zipper, pulling it down slowly, gasping as his erection was released. She’d never seen a man’s cock before, and now, this huge, deep red, veined shaft took her breath away… softly, slowly, she ran her fingers over it, exploring in turn, gripping harder as he showed her how to give maximum pleasure. She kissed the tip, the new taste sent the pleasure surging through her body as she lapped eagerly upon the throbbing shaft.
He glanced at the clock – hardly five minutes left, they’d have to hurry. He hated to do it quickly, this first time, but there wasn’t any choice. She was so hot and wet, being a virgin didn’t seem to make her at all hesitant.
‘Turn round, and bend over the desk.’
She obeyed, and he tucked her skirt up around her waist, exposing her round bottom, the cunt lips still scarcely covered with a downy fuzz of pubic hair. She steadied her legs, pushing her buttocks up and apart, and he gasped as the tip of his cock nudged against her cunt, and then with a moan he gripped her hips and thrust hard, deep into her, shoving her roughly down against the desk, hearing her gasp as he slid into her up to the hilt. She was so tight, but wet and willing, and he withdrew to the flaring hood of his cock, then impaled her again, and stroked her bottom as he stood, almost coming at once with the intensity of his arousal. Her muscles gripped his cock like a dozen skilled hands, working him, pulling him in, and he felt the rhythm of his thrusting growing in her, as he plunged in deep, again and again and again, short powerful strokes that made her moan and lift up off the desk. The soft wet sounds of her cunt and her moans were joined by his gasping for breath, as his climax built, his balls tensing so heavy and full of spunk, and then that wonderful shivering release as his cock, driving deep into her young body, began to climax, shooting his thick rich cum out into her, making her jerk and cry out in delight as her cunt blossomed into orgasm. As his cum bathed her cunt he felt that sudden drenching of sweat that comes with orgasm, and fell shivering across her, jerking spasmodically as he came spiralling down from the heights of pleasure.
He hugged her tight, briefly, then they both jumped as the afternoon bell clanged through the school. He withdrew from her, dripping spunk and her juices, and wiped himself hurriedly on his shirt tails, then did himself up, while she found her knickers and pulled them on, her knees shaking with her happy release as she did so.
He raked his fingers through his hair as she gathered up her books, then giving him a saucy smile, sauntered out of the room, pulling her skirt down as she went – but not enough to completely cover the shiny wet skin of her inner thighs.
He sat heavily at his desk, exhausted and sated. He’d finally done it, he’d fucked Rachel, the long-legged, lazily seductive queen of the class. She’d been a virgin… but had reacted like a seasoned whore. He smiled as he replayed the action, feeling his cock stirring sluggishly again at the wicked memories.
Sunday Snog: Never Been Kissed

“Never Been Kissed” (Drew Barrymore and Michael Vartan)
This movie is all about the perfect first kiss. In front of the world, the lady stands waiting and the man walks in, frames her face in his hands and kisses her like there is no tomorrow. No words are spoken, nothing is needed except for their lips to lock.
Drew Barrymore has one of the sweetest, most adorable faces ever and the most kissable lips in the world.
I just adore her, I have since I was 6. *dreamy sigh*





