A new title : No Touching!

Hello again!

I have at last finished a new title.  It's called No Touching!  and is a steamy romance containing the usual fetish elements that find their way into my stories, including a new one that involves the use of fruit or vegetables.
As I explain in the opening pages, this story is based on three events which happened to co-workers and friends some years ago; I've blended those events into one story, which I hope you'll enjoy.  The e-book is available on Amazon in all its flavors right now, and it should be up on Smashwords, Draft2Digital and all their associated companies (including Apple and Barnes & Noble) in the next few days.

Here are a few details:

Adults Only.  Warning: this was written for an audience aged over 18 and it contains elements which some people may find offensive, such as the watersports fetish and the use of fruit or vegetables in a sex act.
 
Sheila offers George a lift home after an office party one night.  On the way, she acts on an impulse and - unintentionally - arouses his passions; her feelings are stimulated, too, and this incident leads to a weekly session where they meet at his house. 
Standing opposite each other, face-to-face, they watch as they perform acts with themselves in which they find sexual fulfillment.  They have an important rule: they are not permitted to touch each other’s bodies, and this self-imposed regulation drives their excitement to a higher level.
When this thrill gets out of control, there are unforeseen results.  Will they ever be able to resume their kinky practices?  And will their strange routine allow their relationship to evolve into anything closer?

And here's a short extract:



     I arrived on George’s doorstep armed with a bottle of wine and a cake.  I hoped that might charm him round after the two flashpoints we’d had in the office that week.
     When he opened the door to invite me in, he wore a broad smile that disarmed me; I was expecting to have a frank conversation with him to clear the air before we started.  “Thanks for this,” he said as he accepted the wine.  “It’s very generous, but you shouldn’t have bothered.”
     “But I wanted to.  After the week we’ve had at the office.”
     “The office is an entirely different world.  Let’s pretend that it doesn’t exist.”
     In an ordinary situation, in the circles in which I moved, it would be natural for us to greet each other with a brief kiss on the cheek at a social event.  But he kept his distance; I needed no reminder of our “no touching” rule.
     He invited me to sit down in his living room while he uncorked the wine and fetched a knife and two plates to serve the cake.  Looking round the room again, I saw a cluster of bananas in a fruit bowl on a shelf near the table.  I felt a warm glow; I’d been thinking about using a banana, and had made a mental note to bring some with me to this session.  But there was no need.
     “Here we are,” he announced, bringing in two full glasses of wine.  “Would you like to carve the cake?”
     I cut two slices and served them on the plates.
     “I’d like to try something different tonight,” he said.  “Do you have any thoughts?”
 
 -------------

While I have your attention, I would like to offer my apologies for my apparent lack of productivity recently - I have so much I want to write, but I've had to spend time in hospital recently - without my laptop - and my family insisted I take a holiday afterwards; they took me to a remote place that didn't have an Internet connection.  Then, when I returned home, a couple of solicitous in-laws arrived on my doorstep "to look after me"; things turned out differently, and I spent my time looking after them while I had plots and ideas whizzing round in my brain and I didn't have the chance to get many of them down on paper.
As a result of this, I've decided to spend the next six months living like a hermit.  Maybe that will give me the chance to catch up.

Finally, you may have noticed in my earlier remarks that Draft2Digital are handling some of my work now.  Unfortunately they appear to be staffed by a congregation of Puritans and they've asked me to change some of my covers and descriptions which they deem to be inappropriate.  They're relatively new on the scene, and don't like to risk upsetting people.  This has meant extra work for me and, as a result, these guys are still on probation as far as I'm concerned.

That's all for now, Folks!  Now, back to a new story for the forthcoming Waterlines 20....

Best
Chris

Waterlines 17 is here!

Hello again!

I hadn't expected to be writing here again so soon, but I am pleased to announce that Waterlines 17 has been published by Amazon KDP and Smashwords (for Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, et al).  The cover is a little provocative because it depicts a well-dressed woman cleaning the urinals in a men's restroom, and I suspect this unusual scene may have been the reason for the initial delay in publication with with Amazon - one can imagine a hastily-convened committee meeting at Amazon HQ to determine whether the picture breaks any "house" rules.  Waterlines 17 contains three short stories:

A Sprained Ankle :  When you've injured yourself and you can't do things that you've taken for granted for so long, it's time to get inventive....

Paintball War : Sophie, a college teacher, allows her class to go on the rampage in the woods in a paintball war. When they continue their rampage in the men's restroom, she's left clearing up the mess. But there's a silver lining to this cloud....

Subterfuge : What do you do when you're on a train, the toilet's out of action, and you want to "go" when there's no chance of any privacy?


EXTRACT:

     When her duties were done, Sophie walked back towards the common room to pick up her bags, thinking about the long holiday that awaited her.
     “Sophie!” It was Gerry calling, from a few feet behind her.
     She turned round and saw him scurrying urgently towards her.
     “A few of the Second Year students have been having fun and games in the men’s restroom upstairs. There’s paintball graffiti all over the walls. Remember our deal yesterday? No mess in the college buildings, otherwise they’d have to clear it up afterwards. Well, they’ve gone. So you’ll have to play janitor yourself. And you’ll need to do it now, before you go home today.” He walked off, allowing no time to protest.
     “But Jason is equally at fault. He should be doing it too.”
     “He’s gone.” He called, without looking back.
     Shit! she said to herself, and went upstairs to the men’s restroom.

I hope you enjoy the stories.  Subterfuge is based on an out-take I saw of a European movie some years ago.  No, I don't remember the name of the movie or which country produced it.  I couldn't understand the language spoken, so I'm confident it wasn't French or German.  If I hadn't seen this scene myself, I'd have considered the concept just a little far-fetched.  But, hey, that's what erotic fantasies are all about, don't you think?

All the best

Chrissie

email: cpw (at) restroom (dot) net
Twitter: @RachelCray1