The erotic author in the spotlight this week is Oleander Plume! Welcome to Cara Sutra. Oleander Plume writes erotica in several genres. Her work can be found in The Women Who Love to Love Gay Romance by Ryan Field and Best Women’s Erotica 2014 by Violet Blue, and three more anthologies that are being published later this year.
Read on to find out more about the lovely Oleander and read free sexy excerpts of her skillful erotic writing.
– Cara Sutra
Hi there! My name is Oleander Plume, and I love to write erotica of all sorts. My prime area of interest is m/m romance, but I also dabble in all the other gender pairings. I like to mix a healthy dose of humor into my stories, but even my more serious pieces are still light hearted. I love happy endings and prefer kink with a little sugar on top.
So far, I have been accepted into five short story anthologies, two of which are already published. You can find my work in The Women Who Love To Love Gay Romance by Ryan Field, and Best Women’s Erotica 2014 by Violet Blue. The other three I can’t officially talk about yet, but they will be published later this year.
Please visit my blog at oleanderplume.blogspot.com, I’d love to meet you!
Out in the Open
I sit at a table, in a far corner, facing the door. Two more people enter the shop, an older man, and a middle aged woman wearing a business suit with sneakers. Commuters, only here for a fleeting moment before they head off to toil the day away, fueled by caffeine. Neither of them notice me. It’s not that I’m forgettable, it’s just that I have learned the fine art of blending in. I can become part of the landscape, so entwined with it that I’m almost like a piece of furniture. Hiding in plain sight is not only a survival mechanism, it’s also a very helpful aspect to my hobby.
The shop has free wi-fi, so I pull out my laptop and get it set up. I enter the password for my blog, and feel myself starting to drip. The excitement is almost too much to bear sometimes. My blog is the newest aspect of my naughty little pastime, but has quickly become part of my daily routine. Being a part time college student far from home, I have many free hours to fill. I sip my cafe mocha as I wait for the page to load. The business man I had been watching earlier folds his newspaper neatly, then leaves the shop. His vacant chair is claimed by the sneaker footed woman. She looks so stressed, her lips pursed as she furiously sends a text. My mind puts together a complicated scenario for her as I begin to type.
“There is a woman sitting across from me. Buttoned up, all business. What is she like when she lets her hair down? I’ll bet she likes it in the ass. I can almost see her, bent over, plump round butt in the air, shivering with lust as she waits to be taken. She might even like a little spanking first. After he makes her ass nice and pink, her lover pours massage oil between her spread cheeks, then rubs it into her hungry hole as she mewls like a cat in heat. She longs to be stuffed with cock and her lover obliges. While he fucks her back door, she sucks his fingers.”
Seeing the words in my head come to life on the screen is almost surreal. I hit the enter key, publishing my dirty thoughts for the world to see. Anonymously, of course. My screen name is Mischievous Mindy, and my blog is called “The Wet Panty Chronicles”. I have over a thousand followers, all filthy minded individuals who are captivated by my silly little hobby. My fingers fly over the keyboard.
“She’s wearing bright red lipstick. I wonder if it ends up on her boss’s dick. A the end of the day, his cock probably looks like a throbbing, dripping candy cane. Do you think she swallows? I do. Underneath that Talbot’s suit, she’s all slut, just waiting for her next taste of cock. I’ll bet she likes her hair firmly tugged as she slurps down a mouthful of hot semen. Afterward, she licks her fingers and smiles.”
By now I’m completely worked up, but I make myself wait. The time isn’t right, since the morning crowd has gotten thicker. My last entry has already received a thumbs up from one of my readers. It turns me on that someone is out there, pouring over my words, and possibly masturbating while they do so. I turn my attention to a young man that is waiting for a large order. He looks twitchy and nervous. I imagine he is the new office boy for a team of horny executives.
She took off her clothes, slowly. First, she slid her tight black skirt over her curvy hips, it hit the floor with a soft whoosh. The blouse and bra came next, then she was standing there in crotchless black panties, a garter belt with matching stockings and those sexy red shoes.
“Holey moley, can you leave the rest of that on? Wow. Just, wow.” I clutched my chest. “I might need an ambulance.”
She giggled like a school girl, then reached back and let her hair loose, it spilled over her shoulders like a curtain of golden silk, a vision that made me drop to my knees. After a seductive little turn, I found out that she had a nice heart shaped ass, too. I bit my knuckle and groaned while my eyes bounced over her body like two ping pong balls, not knowing where to stop. My tongue got hard, and I couldn’t decide where to begin licking.
She actually felt the need to ask. Let me tell you something, ladies, when a guy is on his knees with a giant boner, asking him if he likes what he sees is kind of a dumb question. Trust me, he does. He likes it. A lot. Dead men tell no tales, and a hard cock tells no lies. I smiled at her, shrugged, then pointed to my boner.
– Oleander Plume