Sunday, May 12, 2013

Sexy Sunday - The Cougar Diaries (Part I) by Aoife Brennan

This week's Sexy Sunday features an excerpt from The Cougar Diaries (Part I) by Aoife Brennan (and that's pronounced Eef-ah, for us Americans). I'm excited to share this with you, because our heroine is in her 40's and starting her life over again, as opposed to the 25 year old miraculously multi-orgasmic princesses in most erotic romance novels. I haven't read the entire book yet, but as a more seasoned woman myself, I'm certainly gonna! 

Please enjoy. :-)



The name of her lover is changed so as not to be a spoiler for the plot

Walking back to the hotel, we fell into a companionable pattern. Out steps were in sync and our breathing even. Crossing the main road in front of the hotel, Mark held my elbow. It felt kind of natural.  ‘Do you fancy a night cap,’ he asked as we entered the foyer. I looked at him. ‘Yes, that would be nice,’ I said.
Several night caps later, Mark and I were roaring with laughter. His sense of humour was very wicked and poor Matt had received a terrible ribbing in his absence. I dreaded looking at him in the morning.  In the spirit of the new world I also confessed my recent dates, and gave an edited but highly amusing account of my disastrous BDSM experiences. Mark laughed until the tears rolled down his face. ‘Only could happen to you Aoife – although I must confess I thought you were a paragon of virtue.’
‘So did I.’I laughed. ‘They just sort of happened, by accident if you like.’
‘Sex by accident,’ said Mark. ‘Now that’s a great title for a book. You should write it.’
‘Yeah, just what my kids would like.’
Finally, I looked at my watch. ‘It’s late, well it’s only nine thirty, but it’s the early hours in Ireland and I need to sleep,’
‘Do you?’ asked Mark touching my knee. I stiffened and then relaxed. I looked intently at Mark. ‘Do you think that is a good idea?’ I asked.
Mark smiled. ‘I am a great believer in what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.’
‘That’s arse-ways,’ I laughed. ‘It’s what goes on tour, stays on tour and we are in San Francisco anyway. ‘
‘All the more reason for it to stay in Vegas,’ said Mark.
‘So, you would like to have sex by accident with me, ‘I said.
‘Very much,’ said Mark. ‘You can call it research for your book.’
‘How kind, except I’m not writing any book,’ I laughed.
We went to my room giggling as we walked along the corridor. We passed a guest and it was all I could do not to burst out laughing. ‘Oh, now we’ll be found out,’ said Mark in my ear. ‘Why did you have to laugh?!’
Falling against the door, I tried to insert my card. It took several attempts and Mark had begun nuzzling my ear now. I giggled harder and as the door opened, we both fell in. ‘I think I’m a bit tipsy, ‘I said.
‘I think you are too,’ said Mark, ‘and I like it. Drop your knickers Aoife Brennan, now!’
‘Feck off Mark. I’m done with all that BDSM crap,’ I said. ‘If I want to be tied up again, I’ll be, I’ll be, I’ll become a parcel.’
‘A what?’
‘You know, tied up like a parcel. Oh feck it, you know what I mean.’
‘You are the funniest thing, Aoife Brennan,’ said Mark and began pulling down my knickers.
‘Stop calling me by my full name. I’ll think I’m in trouble.’
‘You are. I’m the big bad wolf and I’m going to eat you up,’ said Mark who had also
managed to remove my blouse and bra. I looked at him. ‘What happens in Vegas?’
‘Yes, stays in Vegas.’ Mark nodded seriously and began kissing me. He pushed me back on the bed and I fell giggling. ‘How come I’m naked and you are not?’
‘Easily remedied,’ said Mark and undid his trousers, let them fall and kicked them off with a flourish. Then as I watched, still giggling, he pulled his shirt over his head, swung it around and chucked it flying through the air. He hooked a finger on each side of his boxers and pulled them down and up again just before his cock could be seen. He did this several times until in a fit of giggles I demanded he …’Ger’ em off!’
‘For you my sweet,’ he said and pulled them down in a single movement. He stood naked with a large erection and his socks. I pointed at the socks, ‘Off!’. Mark growled and jumped on the bed on top of me. ‘My saucy wench wants to the give the orders now,’ he barked. ‘If I want to wear my socks, then I shall. It’s safe sex after all.’
I giggled even more. ‘So you’re going to put your socks on your cock?’ I said. ‘That’ll make it pretty safe alright!’
In answer Mark started kissing me. He stopped my giggles with his tongue and by slowly rubbing his erection against my leg. I pulled my arms around him, feeling his shoulders and rubbing my hands down his back. I came to his buttocks and squeezed. ‘Oh,’ moaned Mark into my mouth. He kissed down my neck and reached for my right breast. ‘Oh my god, your nipples are divine Ms Brennan,’ he said and bit them.
‘Oh Mr Wolf,’ I said panting, ‘Eat me, eat me!’
Mark obliged, moving down my belly, kissing and nibbling until he reached between my legs. With one hand, he pulled my lips apart and moved in to suck my clit. I let out a long sigh. His tongue went in and out very deep, licking me out before returning to my clit and sucking and pulling. He put one finger in my pussy and began to pulse it in a rhythmical beat. Then he put two fingers in and moved them in a ‘come hither’ motion. I gasped. This was very good. Mark put three fingers inside and stopped sucking, concentrated instead on thrusting his fingers into me. I could feel a building urge. ‘Yes Aoife, come on,’ he said never varying the rhythm. I could feel something very different inside me, I could feel something building, his fingers pulled steadily deep and strong. ‘Yes, Aoife, you can do it,’ he said. I cried out and suddenly felt a release. I squirted all over Mark. ‘Oh my God, what have I done?’ I said in horror as Mark was drenched in my liquid. Mark laughed. ‘Oh, is that a first?’ he said. ‘You have just squirted Aoife Brennan and I love it.’
I half cried, half laughed. ‘Is that normal? I’m so sorry,’ I said horrified and fascinated all in one. ‘That is fantastic,’ said Mark. ‘Now for the safe sex.’
I looked at him half expecting the socks to make an appearance, but he drew a condom from his trouser pocket. ‘You brought one with you, ‘I said. ‘Were you always going to have sex with me?’
‘I’m a boy scout,’ said Mark, tearing the wrapper and putting the condom on in a swift move. ‘Now, prepare to be boarded, Ms Brennan.’ He fell on top of me and pushed his cock into me. ‘Oh, you have the tightest pussy,’ he said and began thrusting into me. I was still groggy from the unexpected squirting, but arched up into him and held him. He kissed me and began going faster. Mark was still damp and he moved slickly on top of me. He pulled me up into him and bent his head onto my shoulder. His breathing quickened and his thrusting became more urgent.  Our bodies moved in unison as he cradled me to him. ‘I’m coming,’ he said and he did. I could feel his cock vibrating and quiver inside. He collapsed on top of me and breathed heavily.  I stuck a tongue out to lick his shoulder. It tasted of me. I marvelled at the sensation and the wetness. I had never, ever done that before. Wow, another first, I thought. Then I remembered the socks.
‘We had sex and you never removed your socks,’ I said in mock indignation. 

Buy The Cougar Diaries Part I:

Meet The Author:

So how did a nice woman like me end up writing filth?

I see myself in the dock, facing the judge and having to answer his question. How did a nice middle class, middle aged woman like me end up writing lascivious copy? I can’t even pretend that my debut novel is a bodice ripper in the traditional sense because I used some very frank language and also the sex scenes went on for pages. I didn’t hide behind the euphemisms normally employed to soften text. I did not have my heroine have a ‘between her legs’ or ‘lady garden’ and I didn’t have my heroes have ‘throbbing manhoods’ or ‘sabres’. I called a phallus a phallus and a vagina a vagina. Actually, I used colloquialisms instead including the quite harsh words such as pussy and cock. And I had them doing some very descriptive things - did I mention these couplings went on for pages? Also, you will note I also have only one heroine but lots of heroes. I thought it was time to readdress the balance of the player. Women have needs too, don’t you know.  

So, how did a nice woman like me end up writing filth? My first answer is poverty. There is nothing like an empty bank balance to make the mind go into overdrive. Love may be free but lust will pay the bills. I had two choices. I could either go out there and sell my body, but while it had one careful owner and two offspring, and was in good nick for the mileage, it still wasn’t that attractive. Nor did I fancy doing the dance with no pants with lots of strangers possibly even more decrepit than me! Call me old fashioned, but I scratched that idea off soonest. So, what was the alternative? Writing about it. I decided to follow the old adage - where there is muck there’s brass.

And secondly, I also wanted to put sex into a context. My debut novel, The Cougar Diaries, Part I, is not autobiographical but I had so much say about a woman in her forties entering the dating world again. I had read, along with the rest of the world, 50 shades and hated it. I had said, along with the rest of the world, I could write better and so I did. Of course, time will be the judge of whether my debut novel is better than 50 Shades but I think it will give the genre a good run for the money.

While I disliked the actual books themselves, and could not get past the mid-point of the second, I liked what they did. Take a bow EL James for you brought erotica out of the shadows, dusted it down and put it square and centre in the middle of the living room. I liked that. Women have always liked sex but somehow this century we took a back seat. In ancient Ireland, women had a much more important role to play and could by Brehon law even demand conjugal satisfaction. Somehow this equality got lost and women, especially ‘good’ women were not meant to like sex and God forbid, to like arousal in the form of erotic books and visual aids (aka porn).

However, while I admire the good work in outing the fact ‘women like sex’ achieved by EL James, what I disliked was the main female character. Let me just tick off a few of my annoyances. She was young and virginal yet managed to achieve orgasm at the touch of button – and very often not her clitoral button. For a supposed intelligent woman she was just plain stooopid. When I read the opening scene where she was interviewing Mr Grey and she read out the question ‘Are you gay?’ by mistake, I went what?  How could a university educated woman not be able to read a line ahead without speaking the words out loud? Finally, she was ridiculously beautiful, bagged a billionaire and managed to get loads of really expensive presents into the bargain. This is Barbara Cartland territory only with nipple clamps and whips. Actually, Cartland did have whips, just not the nippley things.

So, I wanted to write a bonk buster but based a bit more on reality. I understand fiction is fiction, but I wanted a main character that I could identify with. And since I am a woman in her forties, newly separated, with teenage children and aged parents, I thought I would write a bit about me. Or me if I were in a bonk busting novel.

Also, I think I am not alone. There are many women in their forties re-entering the dating marketplace. And by parallel causes, men too. But since I am a woman, I decided to write from experience (and imagination). I discovered many things when I became single again. I discovered that men, marital status immaterial, hit on separated women. As a male friend said to me, once he knew a woman was separated, she took on a more sexual appearance to him, even more so than single women. He could not explain why he felt this way. I could not either, but I certainly experienced it first hand.  Then women tend not to trust you around their husbands – ridiculous it felt to me, since affairs are rife in modern Ireland, but I was certainly cut from many social outings as a result.

Then, when you separate, you lose friends. Sometimes, in an acrimonious breakup, you lose the lot! But even in amicable separations, it happens by default. I was again shocked as I felt I hadn’t changed. Of course, it is not me that had changed, but the other person’s view of who I was.  Still, I found it very upsetting to lose people who were friends. It took me a long while to figure out that stuff happens. I learnt not to question myself and not to blame them either. Sometimes, friends are for a reason and for a season.

Then there was sex - the whole thorny issue of getting naked with a stranger. As is pointed out to me in my novel, hopefully the man naked in front of you is not actually a stranger. But it still boils down to the same thing – having sex for the first time with a new person. You’d think, like riding a bike, sex should be easier or at least the same twenty odd years into adulthood. Think again. It is twice as daunting starting out again and you need to be a very brave person to take the first step.

Finally, this novel is not anti-marriage. It does not celebrate singledom.  It is a very realistic look at the life of a 40 plus woman learning to the do the dance with no pants again. Learning to live again. The best review I have got so far was from a happily married friend. Half way through the novel, she booked herself and her husband into a hotel without the children for a 24-hour shagathon. Now, that is a good review!

Happy reading!
Aoife Brennan

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