Every Sunday, a group of us sign up at the Nuthouse Scribblers blog and post a sexy snippet: 7 sentences (8 this week for completeness) from a work in progress.

Here’s mine for the week from Exhibition… 

She heard him clip the cuffs together above her head. He opened her fingers again, settled something light, smooth and mostly round into the palm of her hand. “Hold onto this apple, if you need to safe-word, just let it fall.”

She felt his finger on her cheekbone and she leaned into it. He drew his finger down and across her clavicle. Random touches still filling in the outline of her body as he made his way, an inch at a time, back down to the bottom of the table and her feet.

Skin tingled with life as he lit her up. It took forever and it took too soon, until it felt like there wasn’t a stretch of skin he hadn’t touched to awaken her body. She was fully corporeal, heavy with expectation.

Nicolette Hugo ©

Every Sunday, a group of us sign up at the Nuthouse Scribblers blog and post a sexy snippet: 7 sentences from a work in progress. Here’s mine for the week from Exhibition… 

Grace ran a palm over his chest, following the muscled curves, trying to use the hard warmth of his body to quell any further doubts.

When he stopped, he set her down on what felt like a table. Pushing lightly against her chest, he laid her flat on her back. Grace could still hear people around them, but an audience had never bothered her, hell audience participation had never been a problem either and as he touched her the crowd faded away.

His hand slowly dragged from her chest, passing between her breasts and down to her abdomen. When he had helped her off the cross his hand had easily spanned her stomach but now the tip of a finger dipped and swirled into her belly button.

Nicolette Hugo ©

Every Sunday, a group of us sign up at the Nuthouse Scribblers blog and post a sexy snippet: 7 sentences from a work in progress. Here’s mine for the week from Exhibition 

Grace Cantrell could feel the smooth but sticky slick of body paint on her skin as a man signed his name across her breast. Blindfolded, she couldn’t see who he was, but she knew it was a man as he made small talk with his companion. She focused on the shapes trying to guess the letters, then the name, making it a game.

Splayed against the solid timber X-frame of a St. Andrew’s Cross, Grace was completely naked except for the blindfold and leather cuffs restraining her ankles and wrists. Above her head hung a sign – “Guestbook. Dom(mes) please sign in”.

Grace was the first thing that guests saw on arrival; living graffiti in a stranger’s house where the deviant danced and played.

Nicolette Hugo ©

Every Sunday, a group of us sign up at the Nuthouse Scribblers blog and post a sexy snippet: 7 sentences from a work in progress. Here’s mine for the week from Exhibition 

Up until now, Grace had felt disconnected from her body. As if by not seeing it because of the blindfold, her flesh didn’t exist. Even the guests signing on her skin had felt academic; their impartiality to her body matching her own. The thrill of it had been more about the idea than sensation. Now, feeling his fingers trace over her curves, outlining her and giving her back form, she felt her awareness grow from her mind, expand and become a body. Her skin prickled with its new awareness.

Nicolette Hugo ©