Victoria Blisse's 100th Sunday Snog

One of my oldest friends in the biz is Victoria Blisse, who was also one of the first writers I edited professionally.  With so much history between us, I was pleased to be asked to participate in her 100th anniversary Sunday Snog.


Vic asked if I could put up an excerpt and offer a prize, so here is an excerpt from my erotic short entitled En Garde, originally published by Phaze and now available from Purple Prosaic, either on its own or as part of my single author anthology, When There's A Will.

The theme for the 100th Sunday Snog is kissing, so here is the scene where Kelly corners John... and gets him to give her the kiss she's been offering. An offer he keeps talking himself out of acknowledging...

"John? You've got one chance to tell me what it is you see that you don't like."
Startled out of my thoughts, I glanced up hurriedly. Kelly stood in the entrance to the hallway. The pink of her nipples was brilliant against her pale skin. A tattoo of a thin vine sporting thorns and tiny purple flowers circled one breast and trailed down her side and across her mid-section. I tried not to stare at the trimmed patch of brunette hair where it ended and her legs began. I forced my gaze up her naked body to meet hers. 
Those intense hazel eyes held mine, burning with a mixture of anger, frustration, and seduction.
"Kelly, what? What the hell?"
"Oh, come on! I've been fucking throwing myself at you all night. Now you tell me, what is there about me that makes you so unwilling to take a hint? You don't like girls with small tits or
something? Or maybe you just don't like girls, period? Please, John, tell me you're gay. It'll make me feel much better."
She stomped across the living room in her naked glory and I felt the blood in my body rushing to both my face and my cock.
Throwing herself to the couch next to me, she put her hand in my lap with the same decisive, no-nonsense attitude she showed in her fighting.
"Okay, so you aren't gay. And you do like what you see. So tell me, why haven't you kissed me yet?"
A million possible replies crossed my mind in an instant. None of them were adequate, so I ignored them. I lifted my hands to the back of her head and pulled her lips to mine.
Her mouth opened with a moan and I thrust my tongue in to wrangle with hers. My hands twisted in her hair and I crushed her lips against mine, pouring all the longing energy I had spent
the evening conserving into the effort. I didn't stop to question the reality of the situation; I just kissed her as hard as I could.

For a prize, I am offering an e-book copy of the anthology containing En Garde.  I'll leave it to the lovely Ms. Blisse to determine how the winner is determined.