Erotic Author Spotlight Series: Essemoh Teepee & Genevieve Ash

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It’s not just one erotic author but a writing team in the spotlight this week. Introducing Essemoh Teepee and Genevieve Ash, a supremely talented duo who work on erotica both separately and together as well as other related projects. DEV is something which sounds particularly fascinating, and you can find out all about it from Essemoh in his bio below. There’s also a super hot free excerpt from Practical Research – and news of the latest erotic book release.

If you’d like to read about other erotic authors you can find the Erotic Author Spotlight Series here. Erotic author and interested in your own free feature post at Cara Sutra? Find the call for submissions page here.

I run a similar free promotional offer for sex bloggers and sex toy reviewers. You can find the Sex Blogger Spotlight Series page here, and the call for submissions (the Q&A and other info to send me) here.

Email me at cara@carasutra.co.uk with your info – whether author or blogger – and I will reply with your spotlight date. This will be the next available Monday for authors and the next available Thursday for bloggers.

– Cara Sutra

Essemoh Teepee

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Essemoh Teepee writes sensual and erotic fiction that is sometimes a little dark, sometimes a little romantic and sometimes it’s just plain weird! He has short stories published by Circlet Press, Cleis Press and Renaissance Sizzler and shares an IPPY Gold Medal for erotica. Co editor of several anthologies for Xcite Books and eSensual Books he is also a Director of Alternatepress Limited. You can find more about his writing at www.smotp.com.

In addition to writing erotica since 2005, Essemoh has been practicing a form of guided meditation called Directed Erotic Visualisation© (DEV©) since 2007. Essemoh developed DEV©, initially as an enhancement to writing erotica, a unique selling point that might get the work noticed above the mass of competition.

The principle was to use a combination of guided visualisation and suggestion to create an altered state of mind in the listener. In that state, the graphic sensual language of the audio narration would generate seemingly real feelings, sensations and physical reactions that would result in an orgasm.

DEV© struck a chord with an audience and audio production work is now the greater part of Essemoh’s output with more than a hundred experiences published to date. DEV© experiences are sold through eSensualbooks.co.uk, Audible.com, iTunes and Amazon. Free MP3 downloads of DEV© experiences, a blog as well as discussions around the DEV© technique can be found at the specialist website www.smotp.xxx.

Genevieve Ash

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Genevieve Ash writes erotic romance. Although she believes in the fairytale, she realizes that not all love stories end happily ever after. Her work takes you on an emotional journey through the pain and pleasure that love can bring, always hoping that love will win. She has been published by Ellora’s Cave, Totally Bound, Xcite Books, eSensual Books, The Wild Rose Press and Renaissance Sizzler. She has also edited and written for many anthologies under various pseudonyms.

Genevieve is also the Managing Director for eSensual Books, an imprint of Alternatepress Limited, and works on the development and marketing of their popular DEV line of products. You can find out more at www.esensualbooks.co.uk and www.genevieveash.com.

The Research Series

‘Minimum sexual experience required’ is a prerequisite for the job Berkeley anthropologist Callista Makris applies for as a research assistant to world renowned Ethnographer, Anbarasan Dahl. Callista understands the project involves a study concerning the effects on women of exposure to sexual stimulus in its various forms, but what she does not know is that she will soon become the object of the study.

Once committed to the project and installed in the Professor’s San Francisco home, she is provided with a decadent new wardrobe and has all her needs met. A daily barrage of sexual stimulus, a bi-sexual Brazilian housekeeper that practices voodoo–who has designs on the Professor as well–and some carefully selected herbal concoctions, quickly combines to move Callista’s subject matter from the academic to very practical research. Her tempestuous relationship with the Professor becomes a sensual game of cat and mouse as they work through their own personal relationship issues while trying to find a way to fulfill their growing desire for one another.

A second novel, Captivating Research; in a proposed group of four, each with an erotic take on different genres, has just been completed and takes the trio on an exciting action adventure to Dubai. The third novel, Academic Research, takes place in the Dreaming Spires of Oxford and will be a sexy ‘whodunnit’ murder mystery.

Read a free excerpt from Practical Research…

Free Excerpt

Anbu stared for a few moments through the windshield after he pulled up outside his house. Reaching over, he let his hand rest on the passenger seat where Callista had sat earlier and imagined he could feel the warmth of her still lingering on the supple leather. After remaining like that for several minutes, he got out and locked the Audi with the key fob as he climbed the steps to his front door.

In his study, he swirled amber liquid in a tumbler to make the ice tinkle as he sat in front of his laptop. Callista had been very frank and open about her sexuality and her limited experiences, yet he had observed her arousal as she discussed it with him. He had also observed how hard she tried to suppress those same feelings. Sharing with him had been exciting for her, and he had to confess, listening to an attractive young woman talking of how she had been fucked—possibly against her will—while others watched had aroused him. He could still smell her perfume and it made him stir in his chair, the beginnings of an erection needing to be accommodated.

He made his decision and carefully thought through his words as he keyed Callista’s number. She was not picking up which made him rethink his approach, his invitation would end up in her voice-mail box and could be replayed several times. I might as well begin as I mean to continue; time to apply a little pressure. He spoke clearly, recording his message and hung up, a half smile on his face.

Opening a browser screen, he started to look for the specialist equipment he now knew he was going to need.

“She really is the perfect subject,” he muttered as he scanned leather items and toys on the websites he had selected. He sipped his drink and considered that observing her reactions and responses as well as the changes in her cultural norms will make the study very real and personal. That thought gave him an idea and he scribbled a note to himself to speak with a colleague in Applied Psychology in the morning. He was looking forward to beginning the work, and began adding items to his shopping cart.

*** *** *** ***

Feeling confident and more in control of her emotions, Callista pulled the cotton nightgown over her head and padded to the kitchen for something to fill the hollow place in her belly. She searched the roomy fridge for minutes waiting for something satisfying to appear; a few sad vegetables, some yogurt and a bottle of wine. Grabbing a yogurt, she settled on the couch and flipped open her laptop. She glanced at her phone on the coffee table and noticed she had a message. She couldn’t stop the sharp intake of air or the giddiness that started to fill her. Must have missed a call when I was in the shower, she thought, trying to sound casual to herself. She stared at it, afraid to touch it, the small green light flashing in time with the pounding in her ears. She opened her phone; missed call, voice-mail—restricted number.

The pounding grew louder, more insistent. Could it be?  Would he have made a decision so quickly? Maybe it is someone else? Callista knew all she needed to do was play the message to find out, but the anticipation was so exciting. She pushed the cotton gown between her thighs to mop at the moisture that was seeping onto her skin and played her message.

‘Hello Callista, I have thought much about our meeting this afternoon and wanted to thank you for your willingness to share your intimate desires with me. I do believe we are compatible and feel we would make an excellent team. Your candor, wit and skills are most valuable and I would be agreeable to make immediate arrangements, should you still be willing to offer me your services.’

The sound of his voice trickling in her ear was making her shiver all over again. Callista had a fleeting thought, I wonder what it would be like to offer myself to you. She listened more intently as he continued.

I am anxious to begin the practical research phase of my study. Please return my call so we can finalize the details of our agreement. And Callista — please be advised that once you say yes, I will accept nothing less than your complete surrender to the project. It is my strong recommendation that you consider this carefully before you commit to me. There was clearly some tension when we talked and I observed your— discomfort and arousal. The way your thighs were sliding together as you tried to stop your hem from rising above the lace of your stocking tops; your shallow breathing and erect nipples against the soft cotton of your blouse. Intense denial of erotic pleasure, while arousing in its own way, may cloud your judgment. I require you to masturbate prior to making your final decision. It will clear your head and facilitate good reasoning.’

Callista pushed her hand between her tightly clenched thighs and pressed the heel of it against her aching flesh. The sharp tingle spread out from her center flooding her with instant heat. Damn him! She thought as her body shuddered. Why am I allowing him to make me feel this way? Surrender, indeed! The nerve of him. Does he really think he can manipulate my mind with basic NLP? He may be trying to get me in the mood for the project, but I am not his Guinea pig, I am his assistant. I will have to make the terms of this arrangement very clear before we begin. She tried to work for a while, pushing away the thoughts of her earlier conversation with Anbu and his suggestive message. She fooled herself into believing it was working, but when a video on the mating habits of the African Dung Beetle seemed arousing to her, she slammed the laptop shut. King of love, huh! She muttered to herself. Grabbing the cold bottle of Rose′ from her fridge, she headed to her neighbor Chad’s apartment.

“Oh girl,” he said after one look at her face, “get in here now.”

He took the wine and walked to the kitchen. She flopped down the velvet fainting couch and draped her arm across her forehead, posing in her best Camille impression.

“Oh no, what have you done now?” Chad asked as he handed her the tumbler full of scotch. Chad was the best ‘girl’ friend she’d ever had-minus the catty bullshit and missing clothes. Well, he had borrowed that red silk dress for the pride parade…

“What about the wine?”

“I didn’t think it was strong enough by the look on your face, love—now dish!”  Chad sat beside her and held her hand.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I had an interview today—an important one and I made a complete ass of myself.”

“There is nothing wrong with you and I find that hard to believe.”

“The man is esteemed by his peers, a legend really and he is looking for a research assistant. He questioned me about very personal things …”

“Babe, I love you, but can we skip the song and dance. I am sure the daily habits of the wild Ethiopian baboon are fascinating and all, but this is me you’re talking to remember?”

“Oh right, sorry. The study is about the impact of recent media mainstreaming of paraphilia on changes in the sexual mores and practices of median class American 21st century women. A marketing consortium has commissioned the work. ”

“You lost me at sex. So is a he a perv? Did he make you all tingly inside?”

“He is not a perv, but he did tell me I had to masturbate before I make my decision.”

“Okay so…he what?” Chad jumped up from the chaise.

“He said I was in denial and needed to clear my head or some crap like that. What an ass. I don’t know if I could possibly work in so closely with a man like him.”

Callista tried to hide the smile that was threatening the corners of her mouth but she could feel the child like glow spreading through her and the scotch was working on her resolve.

“Oh, my God—Callista Ann Makris has the hots for teacher! Well, put a feather in my…”

“Chad, focus! What am I going to do?”

“Well, duh, you are finally going to get laid—I hope.”

“I am serious Chaddy, this is a huge opportunity. I can’t blow it.”

”Well, Calli my girl, I think blowing it may be just what you need to do.”

They sifted through Chad’s collection of DVDs and settled on A Star is Born; nothing like a little Barbra to set things right. By eleven, Chad was snoring gently and she was nodding off, the long day and the alcohol, catching up to her. She covered her sleeping friend with an afghan and headed back to her place.

The bedroom was cool and she stretched out on the fresh sheets and sighed. Staring at the ceiling, she replayed the events of the day in her head. Just this morning she had been the same old Callista, studying hard, looking for a job—living her simple life. Now, she felt a small niggling of dissatisfaction with her daily existence. She observed life every day, a part of her job that had become second nature. She told herself that living vicariously through others was just who she was, but suddenly she wasn’t sure if it was enough anymore. One day you are going to have to take the leap, she told herself. Maybe working on the project with Anbu would give her the clarity she needed on sexual relationships and she could move past her fears. He hadn’t reacted as she’d thought after she shared her story. She had found it a traumatic experience but he’d just shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘I see.’ Drugged and raped against my will and that was his response. He had practically implied it was my fault, that I somehow must have encouraged the bloke. Must be a rule of the good ole boys club, she thought. Innocent until –well, always innocent.

The tug-of-war between very sleepy and wide awake was making her cranky. She could almost hear his voice in her head; surrender, erotic pleasure, erect nipples. Hers puckered in response and she slid her warm thighs together.

“No!”  She flipped her pillow over looking for a cool spot and checked her phone for the hundredth time. Midnight, I wonder what he is doing right now. Probably having wild sex with some co-ed or chatting online with international women, all in the name of research. Maybe he is a pervert and I should reconsider. She checked her messages again—nothing. What did she expect, she had few real friends and they were tired of her turning them down, so they rarely invited her out anymore. She gripped the phone tightly, but she knew resistance was futile. She played his message again.

His voice was so soothing; rich and unhurried. The moment he began to speak, the gentle sing song of his words washed away the tension of the day. Callista felt her limbs melting into the mattress and she let out a long breath. She felt the cool cotton brushing her nipples, the dampness between her legs and the need building inside of her.

Flipping the covers back, she sighed with resignation and pulled the cotton shift over her head. The a/c blew across her heated body and she welcomed the delicious shock of the contrasting sensations. Palms flat, she ran her hands down over her breasts and tummy and back up again. She imagined Anbu’s hands on her and a soft moan escaped her lips; his long slim fingers delicately caressing her, her nipples hard- pressing into his palm, the barely perceptible tremble of her tummy as he stroked closer to her mound. Squeezing her breasts, she let her finger and thumb close around the swollen peaks and she twisted, until her back arched from the bed. Her breathing was getting shallow and she could not stop moaning. She played the message again.

His hand on her hip, feeling the soft flesh and hard bone, his fingers drifting closer, teasing. She was afraid, but her arousal could not be denied. She pressed a finger to her swollen clit and like static electricity, the charge surged through her. She loved that first moment with so much promise ahead. The slow build of passion, the need to feel it all.

She moved her finger slowly in a circle, pushing away the almost painful ache and making room for the warm sensuous pleasure. She tried to take her time, but his voice was still there; commit to me, thighs, stocking tops. She groaned and let his voice take her. Her fingers dipped inside her core, dragging the moisture up and gliding effortlessly over her engorged nub. She didn’t like to penetrate herself, but when she just barely reached inside, it felt so good. She wondered what Anbu’s fingers would feel like inside her, his strong hand gripping her sex. His lips on her throat, her breasts—kissing her mouth. “Oh Professor, please kiss me,” her cry was overflowing with the power of the orgasm that swept through her.

*** *** *** ***

Anbu sipped the hot coffee as he gazed at the dim outline of the Golden Gate Bridge in the early morning fog. A lot to get done today. I need the specialist equipment in place before she comes here again and an appointment needs to be set up in the City. Suddenly anxious, he turned away from the misty view of the Bay and strode back inside to make a few phone calls.

*** *** *** ***

 

Callista read the message on her phone with something approaching disbelief. “You have a fitting booked for eleven today”. The address was on Union Street, not far from Pacific Heights. “I will meet you at Rose’s Café on the corner at one.”  What nerve! I haven’t even agreed to work for him yet. Of course she had decided to say yes. As much as she wanted to be offended, his commanding presence stirred something inside of her that she wanted to explore. She might just have to conduct a little research of her own.

Callista got dressed with mixed emotions. She was angry at him, and at herself. Was she really such an open book? He is so full of himself and the power he wields with such careless abandon or is it careful abandon? Yes, calculated and controlled. Well, he might think he has the upper hand, but I do nothing that is not by choice. It is just a summer job, how difficult could it be. She tossed the third outfit she had tried on in a pile in the corner.

”Fitting for what?” She wondered. “I guess I had better wear good underwear,” she mumbled grudgingly. She pulled open her lingerie drawer and sighed at the meagre offerings it held. She already worn her ‘best’ to the interview, there wasn’t much left except, the lacey gray bra and boy shorts she had bought when Chad told her she needed to step up her game. It had cost her a small fortune and she knew at the time it was pointless. She had no interest in seducing a man into her bed. What the hell, isn’t doing much good in the drawer with the tags still on it. She caught her reflection in the mirror and shook her head thinking she looked ridiculous. Then, she turned to check out the view from behind, “Well, maybe not ridiculous.” She felt the small tremor roll through her and hastily dressed and left for her fitting.

Assumptive asshole, she thought as she walked to the BART station. She felt the delicate lace scratching at her nipples as she increased her pace. The ride into the City was as crowded as ever, but it gave her time to think. She still hadn’t responded to any of his e-mails, yet here she was coming to him at his command—just as he knew I would. At one moment she thought she had him figured out. He was simply putting arousing stimuli in her face to prepare her for the project ahead, but when the arousal blurred her vision, it also blurred the lines of their working relationship. She was sure she could sort it out; it was what she did best. A little observation, some questioning— she would discover the facts and then analyze them. Yes, that is what I need to do, she thought as she absent mindedly rubbed her thighs together. It was a little walk from the station to the corner of Fillmore and Union Street, the day was warming up and Callista slipped off her light jacket, enjoying the welcome feel of the sun on her bare shoulders. She had settled on a gray sheath dress, elegant and professional, but the straight column clung to her hips and breasts, moving with her body as she walked. She felt the cool satin lining against her heated skin. At the last minute she had decided on wearing heels, her one concession to fashion, and she could already feel the ache in her feet. She checked her phone again for the address and slowed her pace, so as not to miss it. It took a few seconds to register that the Professor had arranged for her to come here— 2285 Union – Fuck! – the subtle sign read, ‘My Boudoir Lingerie’.

Inside the small but elegant shop, the staff was evidently expecting her, and swiftly made her welcome in a way that said money was no object. In the flurry of smiles and helpful hands, Callista found herself in her underwear being very professionally and thoroughly measured. She had no idea what Anbu had in mind but the sensuous shop was making her think about naughty things. As the sales girl pinched and tucked and lifted Callista’s sensitive flesh, she couldn’t help but shiver. Her thighs were damp and she swore she could smell her arousal in the tiny fitting room. When the clerk left for another size, Callista quickly wiped at the moisture between her thighs with her panties. A furtive glance at the door and, she raised the panties to her nose and took a deep breath. What is wrong with me, she thought as her heart began to race.

She looked at the mounds of chiffon and lace and satin draped over the small settee and sighed. She wanted to lie in the middle of the pile of silky fabrics and wallow in the sensuality of it. She had never seen so many beautiful pieces, many of them handmade, stitched with shiny beads and pearls. Sheer fabric embellished with delicate flowers and satin bows. Clinging black lace and skin tight leather: Bra’s, thongs, garters: short baby dolls and long lean columns of silk. Callista realized that money could buy taste, because no matter the style or the adornments of the garment, they were all elegant and very, very sexy.

The clerk returned with several new pieces draped over her arm and carefully adjusted Callista’s French lace bra, insisting her familiarity was nothing more than finding a perfect fit. The way she casually grazed a hardening nipple as she slid the bra over her upper arms and then squeezed the cups covering her full breasts made Callista wonder if the clerk might not be a little aroused as well. I should file this in my mental notes, perhaps Anbu would find it interesting for the study.

“Alright, now…” the clerk paused with a serious look, “time for the corsets.”

Callista stared dumfounded at her reflection in the mirror as the sales girl helped her step out of the bra and panties and proceeded to towel the sheen off Callista’s glowing skin. She held the leather and lace contraption up by her breasts as the clerk began to pull the laces. With each fluid loop of the laces, her fingers brushed Callista’s skin. With each new rung of hooks and eyes, Callista’s arousal climbed higher. As she pulled the top loops through, Callista sucked in a breath.

“Wow, really gives me a wai…” Tighter the laces pulled, squeezing Callista’s twenty-eight inch waist tighter, until it was closer to a twenty four. ”Hey, I can’t breathe!” Her breasts were heaving as they overflowed the stiff lip of the corset. She could just see the dark edge of her nipples rising above it.

“That is the idea, my dear. The tension and shallow breath will heighten your arousal. Make you feel sexy.”

“But, my uh…nipples are showing!”

“Mmnh, yes.” The clerk put her hands on Callista’s collar bones and ran them down over her breasts, and along the outline of her waist. “You see how it flattens your stomach and showcases your gorgeous hips.” As the woman’s hands grabbed her hips, her fingers meeting near the small tuft of hair covering her mound, Callista held her breath. She knew it was wrong, she should be outraged, but all she could think about was how much she wanted this stranger to touch her and relieve the pressure that was pounding inside her.“ Well dear, I enjoyed meeting you. I will have these things wrapped up and sent along. I hope you have had a pleasurable experience here today.”

“What things? I haven’t chosen anything.”

“Why all of them of course. Mr. Dahl left me with very explicit instructions—he can be very persuasive, yes?”

“Yes,” Callista replied and then briefly wondered how much of the personal fitting was per Anbu’s instruction.

Books

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Links

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Essemoh Teepee Facebook

Esensual Books Twitter

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