Fifty Shades of Lexi Maxxwell

by Lexi Maxxwell

  XXX

  “I…” she cleared her throat, “I was just trying to explain how valuable you are to us… and… we want you to know that any contribution you can make would be extremely helpful in providing the services we offer.”

  Carrie wasn’t even sure if she was making sense.

  He shampooed with rosemary and mint, and washed with vanilla. And the Good Lord had been great to his body, but the gym was even better.

  His eyes had moved from her gaze to her tits. Mr. Holland suddenly shifted his body, placing his knee on the chair between her thighs, then spreading them so his knee met her hips.

  “Any contribution?” he smiled.

  Her heart was racing, but pumping blood to all the wrong places. The lace between her thighs was soggy, and she made herself bury a whimper. She willed her body to retreat, as his smile made her wonder if he knew how wet she was.

  Carrie pulled herself straight, then pushed his knee from between her legs.

  Holland laughed, as his hand suddenly went snaking between her tits, fondling her to a lingering moan from under her shirt. Two of his fingers twisted around her hard nipple, then Carrie felt a sharp, pressured pleasure as he rolled it between his finger and thumb.

  She pushed at his arm, trying to free herself, but her body melted at the warmth of his hand. “Mr. Holland….” she started, barely any breath in her voice.

  “Do they teach you what to wear when you go collecting money? Or did you get that training in another profession?” he mocked her, twisting her nipple harder.

  She was sucking air through the shock of his twist, desperately clinging to the last drop of professionalism she had left. “Please…”

  “I’ve had it with you women who think you can get money by showing up in my life, teasing my dick, then taking my money and running.”

  His breath accelerated and his knee inched toward her pussy, until it slapped the damp wall of her panties, and the sides of her sticky inner thighs. Her body reacted and her mind did nothing to stop it.

  Carrie’s soaking slit hummed in desire.

  XXX

  Alex squeezed her nipple harder. Her body twisted and and her back arched.

  He pulled her from the chair and slammed her into the wall. Her shoe made a hollow plunk as it slapped the hardwood floor.

  With one hand Alex pushed her face against the wall while the other tore at her jacket and blouse, ripping buttons and spilling flesh.

  He he ran a rough finger between her tits. Alex could see on her face that she knew she shouldn’t be doing what she was about to do, but also that she wouldn’t do much if anything to stop him.

  She looked almost frightened when Alex grabbed the front of her black lace bra, flipping the clasp on the front with expert hands, but her eyes rolled to the back of her head when she felt her nipples drop into his hungry mouth.

  He tore at them, bit them, and flipped his tongue against their hardness.

  XXX

  Desire swallowed her body and spit out her mind. Fire spread from pussy to skull. Fire crackers exploded in her brain. She wanted him, needed him, would do anything to have him. She opened her eyes and caught her reflection in the foyer vanity.

  She watched him ripping at her tits, and biting her bare skin. Every time his lips lapped at her skin, they left a lingering icy trail of fire. His teeth scraped her body in a graze, and she felt it swell and redden under his mouth.

  Desire thickened inside her, spewing juices from her slit. She watched his hand leave her round, perky tits as it traveled down the length of her body and slip beneath her short black skirt, ripping the thin lace from her ass. He pulled her skirt up, making her body kiss the naked air from both ends.

  His eyes were fastened on her hairless lips, freshly shaved, but his smile was on her. He traced the slippery wetness coating her thighs, until his fingers settled in place on her clit.

  Her body tensed as he worked in circles, driving her to shudder as they dug deeper into her dark, soakhole. He pounded her pussy, watching her face smash against the wall as she tried to swallow her screams.

  Her dripping orifice tightened as flopped about the couch.

  Carrie screamed and shuddered and shook.

  XXX

  Alex moved his hand from her face, then pressed hard on her shoulders, sending her to her knees. Her deep blue eyes looked up at him, and he smiled back down at her. She gripped the elastic waist of the only thing between her and his dick, then ripped it to his ankles.

  The warmth of her mouth wrapping around his cock sent a shiver down his spine. She made circles around his width, twisting her head as she took his dick deeper down her throat.

  She started to move at a torturer’s pace, but Alex grabbed the back of her head and shoved his cock deeper, forcing her to move faster on his cock, making her use his mouth the way he would use her slick, hot pussy.

  His knees buckled under his own weight, and she looked up and smiled, still working her hands around the base of his cock, her mouth around its tip as it throbbed inside.

  Fire flashed in his eyes. He grabbed her by the hair, then drug her, stumbling down the hall. He made it half way through the short span before slamming her into the wall and gently licking her lips.

  He spread her legs with his own and rubbed her ass before grabbing two handfuls and crushing her against the wall with his weight.

  His hand found his throbbing cock and he shoved his full length into her slippery pussy as her entire body tensed. Holding her ass, he rocked her body hard against his, grinding her hips against his until she was begging for more.

  Her hands went from around his neck to her own tits. She rubbed herself and moaned, “More… more… harder…”

  He crushed his knees against the wall for leverage. She turned her hips in the same circles she made with her mouth, pushing himself past all control. He watched her bounce on his cock, transformed from a woman wanting his money to a woman flush with a bottomless hunger.

  She stretched her tits to meet his mouth, then grabbed the back of his head, shoving it between their swollen, red fullness. He took another bite of her flesh, and her neck craned, sending her head in a slap to the wall.

  XXX

  His hard hands felt like sandpaper against the smooth skin of her ass, and his strong arms bounced her like a twig. He pounded her dripping slit with a force she thought could shatter her bones, but she pushed herself harder onto every thrust, sending wave after wave of chills through her body. Her head ground into the wall; her fingers reached for her swollen clit as she stroked her slit in time with the pounding dick.

  She felt herself tighten around his cock, then braced herself for the shudder and vibrations to follow. The largest climbed from deep inside her cunt to the bottom depths of her stomach. Carrie collapsed against his chest as he continued to pound her hard, each thrust moving him closer to the edge.

  Carrie recovered quickly and pushed her body into another round of circling hips.

  He pumped three times, thrice as violent, then cried as six splotches of his cream shot into her inner walls.

  Their bodies slid to the floor in a crumpled heap of sweat. His body trembled.

  Carrie recovered quicker than he did, rising to her feet, straightening her skirt, and adjusting her blouse and jacket as best she could with the missing buttons.

  He propped his head on his hand against the cold hardwood floor and watched her ass swaying in hurried movement.

  How the hell am I going to go from mind blowing sex to getting his check without making myself sound like a prostitute?

  She buttoned the only button left on her jacket, and opened her mouth to say the one thing she didn’t want to say. But he beat her to it.

  “About that pledge…” he said with a sly grin. Carrie couldn’t believe it. Holland was already hard again.

  XXX

  THIS Is Why Erotica Readers Are Happier People

  Love is chemistry.

  Sex is physics.

  I�
��m a starry-eyed girl who yearns for love, too.

  But sometimes, I just want to fuck.

  And if you’re like pretty much everyone I know, you probably do, too.

  Even some of my best friends, swearing on a high stack of bibles, insist this isn’t true.

  Yet, after a few glasses of wine, they are always singing a different song.

  Yes, sometimes you just want something inside you; a cock, a tongue, or your own fingers softening the peach. Sex is a human need, and not admitting that naked truth dresses it in barbed wire, then wraps it around your entire life.

  “We Are All Born Sexual Creatures, Thank God!” ~ Marilyn Monroe

  In 2012, the human species is civilized about many things, and uncivilized about a remarkable number of others. When it comes to sex, we have shit almost entirely backwards.

  Homosexuals are depicted as frail or inferior, even though charging from the closet to tell your family and friends requires more personal courage than many of us will ever show.

  Religious fundamentalists portray themselves as high-minded and right-thinking individuals, and yet they commit far more time and energy to sex obsession than an army of escorts, swingers and drag queens ever could.

  Don’t get me started on PayPal.

  Humans fuck.

  We do it for fun, we do it to breed, we do it because it feels goddamn good.

  So why do so many of us spend our lives pretending?

  Because most of us have been raised to be ashamed.

  When sex is bled onto the page, it is as potent, if not more so, than any other form of writing. Yet erotica has been vilified, cast to the ghetto of literature, and unfairly labeled as garbage crass for the masses.

  And while the recent glut of crap on “Spamazon” justifies some of this argument, .99 and free crap eBooks have only been around for the last few seconds of erotica’s hour.

  This is most damaging to women. Men are visual, and they like to see the titties bouncing while the girl is getting banged from behind. And while I’m thrilled that more men are reading erotica than ever, quality erotica makes a bigger difference in the average woman’s life.

  For Women, The Best Aphrodisiacs Are Words

  Yes, my pussy is one of my favorite erogenous zones, but I get wet from the ears on down. My instincts are to release, to listen to the whisper inside me, to feel the cool sticky mess gathering at the apex of my inner upper thighs.

  But I have been taught that this is something to be ashamed of, to distrust the power rising from the depths of my more irrational, lurid thoughts. These thoughts excite me, make me feel alive, and when answered, make me feel happy.

  So why did I ignore my honest feelings for so long?

  For the same reason as most people – the same reason that keeps many readers from reading erotica who might enjoy it otherwise – because they are scared of what others might think.

  But this is ridiculous.

  Language is powerful, and should always be embraced.

  Words only have the power we give them. When it comes to language, it’s all about context. There are no bad words.

  Certain words will get you off because language is a mainline to our mind. This is why a shocking number of women, and some men, read and enjoy erotica. The genre ranges from tame phrasing such as, “he placed his member against her swollen mound,” to the escalating drama of “he shoved his throbbing cock into her sopping wet cunt.”

  To each his own.

  I will always prefer the second because it is more honest, and therefore gets me a helluva lot wetter. I’ve never screamed for anyone to do anything to my mound. You haven’t either. And neither did the writer who put the disingenuous words on the page.

  Softened language is there to make the writer, reader, and publisher feel safe. Yet, with one of the holy trinity removed, the erotica market has grown a lot more honest.

  More on that in a minute.

  Erotica is mostly about having sex, and not about having children. For many readers, their life is the opposite.

  You can substitute children for banality, work, frustration, fatigue, boredom, or anything else that keeps a reader from feeling as though they are living their most exciting life.

  Erotica Readers Are Looking For More From Life

  Erotica readers are looking for more living from their daily existence, and erotica provides instantaneous escape – stimulating the imagination, stirring the senses, and offering the promise of FUN.

  Readers buy erotic fiction to live out their sexual fantasies, the sort of fantasies they’re too nervous to ask their real-life partner about. This is why the language, setting, dialogue and tone are all essential to an effective bit of erotica.

  Storytelling is essential to a happy human psyche. Well written erotica offers what the reader can’t get in real life. It is fantastic, amazing, a stylized, hyper reality.

  Great fiction must inhabit a world which offers more than the real world. A well told story must illuminate something new, potential or possibilities or anything that expands the mind of the reader or opens the window to their soul, where the whispers in the dark and the voices you don’t always allow yourself to hear are suddenly bright; loud and ringing with truth.

  It is there where you can stare in the mirror at the person a part of you has always wanted to be.

  For too long, this truth has been locked away from too many women.

  Myself included.

  Fortunately, the world is changing. And Amazon, more than anyone else, is helping to change it.

  Erotica is BOOMING, thanks to the Kindle and other eReaders. Sales of erotic novels have soared by over 30%, as readers swap paper and ink for digital downloads.

  Downloading smut is surging in popularity largely because of the anonymity that comes with a download, versus the blush that comes while waiting for change. The Kindle is portable, so no-one can see what you’re reading. The digital brown paper bag means you can now read erotica wherever you are, without fear of embarrassment.

  Beyond the anonymity, Kindle has also kicked open the doors for indie-authors like me. Now anyone with a keyboard and an Amazon account can express themselves, which means those digital brown bags can get fatter than curious readers ever imagined, and for far fewer dollars.

  Yes, there is a massive amount of garbage on Amazon. But that is because publishing is in transition. Because anyone can do it, many who shouldn’t are doing it anyway. And while this clutters the channel, consumers aren’t stupid and it won’t last for long.

  Cream Always Rises to the Top

  My readers are smart, and more will continue to find me. They appreciate well written work, which is the only kind I write.

  The seemingly endless sea of free erotica on Amazon is mostly a good thing, at least for now. It gives both readers and writers a chance. The runaway success of Shades of Grey, a prime example of a quality title finding a mass audience, proves the point better than any other title out there.

  Despite it’s groundbreaking climb to the NY Times Bestseller List, and the glossy front of Entertainment Weekly, the title doesn’t cover new territory. Shades of Grey started out as fan fiction, re-imagining the world of Twilight with scenes of BDSM (Bondage, Domination, Sadism and Masochism).

  What Shades of Grey has done, and why I woke up thanking it this morning just like I have every morning for the last month, is swung open the doors to “mommy porn,” and given writers like me a better opportunity for getting found.

  The first “romance” I read was Anne Rice’s “East of Eden,” in 6th grade. I read the Sleeping Beauty series shortly after that.

  HolyFuckingShit.

  I remember reading for hours; wide-eyed, red-faced and sticky.

  I quickly moved into Harlequin titles. I never stopped and I’m not alone. Harlequin books have sold over 45 million copies worldwide. Fuck Random House, Harlequin is one of the most profitable publishing companies anywhere, with hundreds of millions in sales each year.

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sp; Yet, this massive success is treated as an anomaly, and the world at large acts as though women reading porn is somehow superior to men watching it. Shades of Grey opens the door and gives the western world the easy excuse it’s been looking for.

  After all, those aren’t tits on the cover, it’s a tie.

  Shades of Grey isn’t mommy porn, it’s gateway smut.

  Experience defines us. I’ve been watching with interest for a while, but it took me until early this year to finally gather my courage.

  I’m a professional copywriter at a large marketing firm, but fiction is my sweet spot (at least the sweet spot I don’t have to clean). I’ve published several books on Amazon under various pen names. But this past January, I finally tried my hand at what I saw as a quickly growing market, as well as a way to grow myself.

  The Erotica Must be Working. I’ve Never Been Happier

  Copywriting is about keeping the readers on the page, and fiction is about making them care. Use these two skills as the bread, and the fucking in the middle makes a helluva sandwich.