Thursday, December 20, 2012

BTS Tours & Freya's Bower Presents: Santa's Little Helper Scavenger Hunt!



BTS Tours and Freya’s Bower are proud to present the Santa’s Little Helper Scavenger Hunt. 32 blogs have linked together to allow you to hunt for 32 different words that will be hidden in each post, so at the end of the hunt you will have 32 answers to plug into the rafflecopter. Please DO NOT leave your answers in the comment section. We want this to be fun for everyone, and not take the challenge out of the game. So this is how it works.

All the blogs listed below will post their game piece on their allotted date. You are looking for one word (related to Christmas or Sex) to plug into the rafflecopter as your answer. For Example:'

If you are on Close Encounters with the Night Kind, and find your word (clues will be provided for you in the banner) you log into the rafflecopter form and place your answer in the box marked Close Encounters of the Night Kind. Follow along the entire Scavenger Hunt and collect all 32 clues. We will be drawing for 4 $25 dollar Gift Certificates to Freya’s Bower. Happy Hunting!!!





Title: Bedtime Stories  Author: Rebecca Randall 
Publisher: Wild Child Publishing 
Length: 182 kb
Sub-Genres: Erotica
A collection of after-dark tales sure to keep you up past your bedtime! 12 sizzling short stories in which the most ordinary and mundane daily events become the stage for steamy and erotic encounters.
“Do you mind if I watch?” she asked shyly.
“Well, customers aren’t really supposed to be back here, but since I’m the only one here, go ahead.” He grinned. He ducked into a back room, rummaged around, and emerged with two grubby vinyl cushions that looked as if they’d had a previous life as part of a boat’s upholstery,
“Here you go!” he said brightly, patting the improvised throne and raising a dusty cloud.
Courtney thanked him and sank down onto the cushions, her pencil skirt riding up her thighs. She smoothed it back down, and looked up, to catch Josh staring at the scrap of lace stay-up visible beneath her hem. He flushed and looked away.
He worked, keeping up a one-sided commentary on what exactly was wrong with her car. “By the way it’s jerking, it’s definitely starved for fuel. May be a blocked fuel filter or fuel line, but we’ll see,” he murmured, tapping his foot and peering upward.
Courtney watched the way his muscled body moved under his coveralls. His forearms, furred with silky black hairs, flexed with manipulated wrenches in the car’s dark underbelly. She could see his biceps bulge under the short sleeves of his coveralls. His thighs strained the navy-blue polyester sheathing his legs.
Despite the greasy black smears on his cheek and forehead, she was attracted to his full lips and the way his long eyelashes curled upward.
What am I thinking? she suddenly asked herself. This guy is my mechanic. He’s dirty and he smells like grease. His fingernails are filthy!
She shuddered thinking about the stains he’d leave on her clothes stripping them off her. And suddenly she was so hot, she couldn’t sit still. Her inner thighs were slippery with warm wetness, and she could feel her nipples hardening, pressing against her bra’s padding and protruding from her cashmere sweater.
“Here!” Josh called excitedly from near the front of the car. “Check out this fuel filter! It’s totally clogged. No wonder your car was acting up – this thing is filthy!” He marched triumphantly over to where Courtney was seated, holding out an unidentifiable greasy mass. He squatted next to her, almost between her knees, to show her. “I replaced it. Should run fine now.”
“Wow,” she murmured, her voice husky. “That’s…amazing.” She wasn’t looking at the fuel filter, but past it, to where she could see a stiffening bulge protruding from his coveralls. Without hesitation, she reached out her well-manicured hand, cupping her fingers around his bulging erection.
Josh’s eyes widened. His hand dropped to his side, and the fuel filter thudded to the ground, forgotten.
Courtney ran her fingers up the slick, oily surface of Josh’s coveralls, breathing in his skin’s acrid scent, reaching for the zipper that hung, half-unzipped, just above his bellybutton.











0 comments:

Post a Comment

Due to an increase in spam, all comments are moderated. Even if you do not see an "awaiting approval" message, please only submit your comment once. Sorry for the inconvenience.