By A.C. James
My freckles expanded from my recent beach vacation which is nothing new. It goes with the territory when you’re Scotch-Irish. I also had rosy pink cheeks… oh, but not from the sun 😉

Erotica, good erotica, is so much more than a story about sex. That is the core of course but well written erotica makes us feel (pun intended) like any inspiring musical composition. If you look at the root word eros it means life force and without eroticism you have no sexuality and no continuation of our species. Making love, sex, fucking, is a basic drive, a need that sustains us, creates art, and is sacred in all its many forms.

It would be impossible for me to pick a favorite story from this collection because so many of them resonated with orgasms past or piqued my curiosity to explore ones I’ve yet to discover.

All You Do Is Play by Annabeth Leong had me wondering at the possibility and remembering so many concerts swaying to the vibrations rocking through my body. By the Beat by T.Fox Dunham built a slow crescendo with its metronome. Meanwhile, Piano Man by A.M. Hartnett took me back to my college days playing open mic nights and to lovers who could play me like a harp.

The Gallery Exhibit by Chris Komodo took exhibitionism and made orgasm into art. Matinee by Suleikha Snyder reminded me that eroticism doesn’t mean sex. It doesn’t mean sex at all. A look, a touch, a brushing of arms can be just as hot or hotter than the most passionate kiss or embrace. At the same time Meeting Myself by Anya Levin reminds us that sex is timeless, ageless, and does not end.

The stories that made my husband hand me more sunblock because he was sure I was getting too much sun on my face was Forced Orgasms by Shoshanna Eversand The Flogger by Jade A. Waters. Kay Jaybee shared her spread-eagled tale, Tied by Red that sounded like my kind of kink and had just enough thorns to be fun 😉 While The Morning After by David Salcido had me going, “Damn, I don’t remember getting that kind of service on my honeymoon!”

My last kudos goes to Michael A.Gonzales for writing a story near and dear to my heart with The Velocity of Roaches. I love that the stereotypical leering side character that’s an unfortunate annoyance is incorporated.

As the lazy, hazy days of summer come to a close (yes, I know I’m terribly punny) I’m sure I’ll curl up by the fire to re-read a few of my favorites this fall.

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