Pillow Talk Sexy Surprises: Sexy Surprises, #36

By Giselle Renarde

Step into the intimate world of "Pillow Talk Sexy Surprises," where hot water bottles aren't the only things heating up the bedroom. In this spicy collection of six short stories, conversations become a seductive dance of desire and connection.

 

From whispered confessions to playful banter that ignites the flames of passion, each tale offers a glimpse into the intimate chats shared between the sheets. Explore the depths of longing as lovers muse about the future, reminisce about the past, and indulge in naughty talk that leaves them begging for more.

 

Prepare to be swept away by the raw emotion that permeates "Pillow Talk Sexy Surprises." This anthology invites you to explore the intimate conversations that turn ordinary moments into unforgettable experiences. Immerse yourself in the sensual world of pillow talk tonight!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Giselle Renarde
• Release date: Mar 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224365760

Giselle Renarde

Giselle Renarde is a queer Canadian, avid volunteer, and contributor to more than 100 short story anthologies, including Best Women's Erotica, Best Lesbian Erotica, Best Bondage Erotica, and Best Lesbian Romance. Ms Renarde has written dozens of juicy books, including Anonymous, Ondine, and Nanny State. Her book The Red Satin Collection won Best Transgender Romance in the 2012 Rainbow Awards. Giselle lives across from a park with two bilingual cats who sleep on her head.

Book preview

Pillow Talk

Sexy Surprises

6 Erotic Stories

Giselle Renarde

Defining Moments

There were certain conversations that never took place in the summertime.  The sun might pride herself as the great elucidator, but winter was the season of humble introspection. When outside it was bitterly cold, what else was there to do but curl up in bed together?  To kiss and touch and writhe in unison, then bask in the warmth of each other’s bodies?

When snowflakes like cotton balls fell from the sky, Devra wrapped her arms and a fleecy blanket around Priti’s shoulders and kissed her hair.  Sighing, Priti rolled onto her back and gazed out the window.  The streetlights made the falling snow glow bright white against a backdrop of blue.

How did you know you liked girls? Priti asked.

Devra was somewhat amazed the topic had never come up before.  You mean when did I first know?

Yeah.  Did you have a Eureka moment where you were like, ‘Aha! I’m a lesbian?’

She recognized it was meant to be a joke, but Devra ruminated nonetheless.  Not exactly.  I mean, yes, sort of, but I wouldn’t have used those words at the time.

Why not? Priti asked without waiting for an answer.  Because you didn’t want to be pigeonholed or grouped into somebody else’s narrow definition of sexual identity?

Devra propped up her head with the palm of her hand.  No.  Because I was five.

Five, as in years old?

Yeah.

Wow, Priti replied.  You started early.

"It wasn’t a matter of starting, and at the time it didn’t mean anything to me.  It’s only in looking back that my selective memory has chosen that event as significant."

What event?

Nothing big.  I’m surprised I even remember it.  When I was in kindergarten I had this useless blob of a teacher, Mrs...oh, I don’t know...Mrs Blob.

Are you telling me this is a significant figure in your life and you can’t even remember her name?

Give me a break! Devra said.  I was five.

Okay, so you had a crush on Mrs Blob? Priti giggled.

God, no.  No, it was Mrs Blob who made me wish I wasn’t a girl.  I had this growing awareness that when I grew up, I would be a woman.  Mrs Blob was a woman, and damned if I wanted to look like that when I got older.

That is so mean! Priti admonished, giving Devra a playful kiss on the arm.

No, it created some genuine anxiety for me.  I didn’t want to grow up and be a woman if that meant looking like Mrs Blob.

But that doesn’t make any sense.  What about your mom?  She wasn’t a blob, and you knew her before your kindergarten teacher.

Devra agreed. "And I had seven skinny aunties too, but at that age I didn’t recognize that they were women; Mom was Mom.  I mean, some people think that way their whole lives: my mom isn’t a woman, she’s just my mom."

Yeah, seriously.  So you were five, your mom wasn’t a woman, and your blob of a teacher freaked you out?

Right, and then one day I found something that completely alleviated my little panic attacks.  Some perv had torn pages out of a girlie magazine and left all these pictures of naked women blowing around the playground.

Oh my god! Priti gasped, clenching her fist to her chest.

Yeah, well, I picked one up and...  For a moment, Devra was lost.  I still remember her feathered blonde hair and her slim frame, her perky tits...

And you wanted to look like her?

Again, Devra reflected.  "No, that wasn’t the thought process.  I saw that naked playgirl and I realized for the first time that not all women looked like Mrs Blob.  It’s not that I looked at this picture and I wanted to fuck the girl—I was five; I didn’t know what sex was—but it wasn’t a feeling of aspiration either.  How can I explain it?  I guess it excited me that there were women like that in the world.  She was an image