She could see the pale curve of one of Delilah’s legs. It was outside of the bed clothes and moving.

“Quality smut from a ravishingly good author.”

Emma had listened to the clip-clopping of the horses in the street for sometime before they had helped her drop off to sleep.

Half-awake, she had heard the door click shut, but then remembering she was sharing Delilah’s room she had closed her eyes again.

She was woken next by a rustling. It was not very loud and would probably never have awoken her if not for its rhythmical nature and the fact that it was underpinned by the lazy squeaking of a bed.

She opened her eyes and they settled on Delilah’s corner of the room.

There was a fullish moon and its light was squeezing through the narrow skylight. Slowly, Emma’s eyes began to get accustomed to the dark.

She could see the pale curve of one of Delilah’s legs. It was outside of the bed clothes and moving.

Delilah had bunched up the bed clothes and squeezed them under her.

“What are you doing?” Emma spoke before she thought. Her voice sounded very loud in the dark.

Delilah did not stop.

“Have you ever been with a man?” she growled.


“A woman?”

“Certainly not.”

“When I desire it, I do this.”

Emma turned on her side to see her more clearly.

“But what?”

“You really do not know?”

Delilah’s eyes flashed in the dark at her.

Her hand went down and lifted her silk underwear. Now Emma could see the skin on her hip and buttock.

“I have the pillow and bedding under me. Between my thighs.”

Delilah’s buttocks were small and round. She squeezed her thighs together, getting her mount in just the right place.


Delilah curled a finger in front of her mouth and bit it gently as the pleasure began to increase.

She was looking straight through the darkness at Emma.

Emma heard her panting quicken.

“Oui! Oui!”

Delilah’s buttocks began to move faster in an almost circular motion.

Emma watched mesmerised.

“It is gorgeous,” gasped Delilah, hugging a pillow to her chest.

Emma’s mouth was dry.

Underneath the bed covers she held her hands to her excited stomach as she watched Delilah push some hair behind her ear and then ride on, her eyes closed.

“Oh, oui!”

Suddenly, Delilah’s body rammed hard, her legs straightened and her mouth opened in a silent cry.

She turned her face to Emma and fixed her eyes on her, as the pleasure coursed through her being.

“Oh, oui-oui-OUI!”

Deilah lay for sometime, her face in the bed. Then she lifted herself up and buried herself under the covers.

Emma did not know what to say. She wanted…

“That word ‘oui’,” she said at last. “That’s French that is. Is that what language you speak?”

Delilah had turned away and may already have been almost asleep.

“Only when I pleasure myself,” came the reply.


The Naked Spy



A spy novel which brings a new meaning to diplomatic relations. The world of spies and intrigue is in the literally brought to a climax in hotbed of 1940’s Lisbon

Holly goes under (not much) cover to help reveal a plot to kidnap a very important person to all sides during World War 2. With Ana by her side will she manage to defeat the nefarious SS plot? I could tell you but surely reading it yourself would be better!!

With action taking place in both Berlin and Lisbon this tale of what could really have happened, and maybe it really did will keep your heart rate up from the start.
The story reads really well, the author has taken a germ of an idea from a historical period thought about a plot and weaved her tale around it. Interweaving erotic situations for all of the protagonists and interweaving the protagonists in erotic situations the reader is taken on a ride through the their experiences.
Really enjoyed it, as a reader with an interest in World War 2 this book adds a dimension most of the thrillers leave alone and does it well!

Pictures that inspired an erotic character

Much of my writing is inspired by images. Especially when I am letting my fantasies run riot about the characters I create.

I went searching for my passionate, experienced prostitute, Ana, who dominates the men who arrive at her backstreet brothel in Portugal in ‘The Naked Spy’…

Gina Lollobrigida

Gina Lollobrigida

She became a mix of classic actresses and beautiful models…

Kelly Brook checks herself out in the mirror

Kelly Brook checks herself out in the mirror

…and I wondered about her clothes, her body movements…

Burlesque dancer

Burlesque dancer

…her underclothes…

1940s corset

1940s corset

Her ways of continually renewing her attractiveness to an endless stream of men…

Ana: gorgeous, intelligent and strong

Ana: gorgeous, intelligent and strong

And, all the while, she is spying on the German agents who thrive in the steamy city of Lisbon…

Going undercover

Going undercover

…and feeding all the information back to her British spy master.

Dressing for work

Dressing for work

Ana stars in ‘The Naked Spy’:

The Naked Spy

The Naked Spy


Oh, the housework never ends!

Oh, the housework never ends!

The housewife sitting on the washing machine to get all heated up during the spin-cycle is an old joke which raises a few sniggers.

But it contains a truth about our ability to find stimulation and eroticism in all kinds of household objects.

Some of these are electrical, some obvious, some edible but many – at first glance – would seem to have no sexual currency at all. This last group is often the most interesting.

We each find an erotic charge where we want to.

Close your eyes, squeeze your thighs together and take an imaginary trip around the average house.

Over there is the comfortable arm of a soft chair; there, a coffee table at which one might squat, legs astride.

A fruit bowl is filled with colour, tender skin holding in a flood of juice.

In the bedroom, the crisp sheets are turned down and out peek two soft, plump pillows.

althea lynn2

There is a line of clothes in the closet, all kinds of materials for touch to sense, a feast of colour for the eye. There are soft shoes spilling out onto the floor, all shapes and sizes, heels and flat; used and new; shiny, shiny, knee-length boots of leather; dress shoes with toes pinched tight. Kinky boots, one and all.

Look at the corner of the bed, just right for riding, or how about the smoothly-turned bedpost?

A big rough teddy bear sits in the corner, its stubby arms ready to be held flat, its belly stuffed and plumped.

Two mirrors reflect back at each other. A figure between them could see his or her reflection bouncing back and forth into infinity.

From the bathroom comes the slow, steady drip of water from the shower-head, curved, cupped like a hand.

The sun drenches a wicker chair in the suburban conservatory.

In the garage, a gym and games room bursts with tactile, humpable objects. An exercise bench cries out for inner thighs. Exercise balls await to be straddled.

The baize of a pool table tingles and crackles under fingertips.

There, hung on a hook on the wall, is a riding saddle and a thin, black whip.

The Polish film-maker Walerian Borowczyk saw the things we surround ourselves with as anything but neutral.

In his four-story film, Contes Immoraux (Immoral Tales, 1974), he creates a shockingly erotic segment featuring actress Charlotte Alexandra.


Charlotte stars as a girl whose dedication to God reveals itself as a burning lust when she is unjustly banished to her room.

And there Borowczyk’s fetishism and eye for the erotic in everything becomes almost stifling.

As she touches items like religious objects and Victoriana in the closed room, the objects are vested with a sexual charge. Their touch seems to awaken her.

Charlotte kisses a small wooden idol and touches the faces in the picture on the wall. Then she finds a book containing pornographic sketches.

Believing that the Holy Spirit delivered the naughty book to her, she undresses and caresses a cucumber, which she slides between her thighs.


The scene is filmed in silence, except only for the noises of the sheets crackling against her skin, her growing gasps and the cucumber entering her. (I drew heavily on this scene when depicting Lady Gemma’s sexual awakening in ‘Pantsdown Abbey’.)


In another of his films, Behind Convent Walls (1977), a nun finds a large timber chip from a woodcutter’s block and carves it into a dildo, while another sister enjoys the eroticism of her violin (and why not?).

Away from this pretence of art, punter-led resources like Yahoo groups give some insight into all our sense of the object-erotic.

If you look hard enough you can find videos too, which show women masturbating by riding pillows and – in one case – a large, stuffed gorilla wearing a strap-on.

Cuddly toys, indeed.

Lucky Gorilla