©
2025 PennameWombat
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This is my very late, just under the wire entry for the
Literotica 2025 Valentine's Day Erotic Story Contest
and the
2025 Pink Orchid Story Event
.
Co-authors Bailey Jones and Carly Smith write spicy novels that are getting them plenty of fans. But their not-so-hidden secret is that their personal love lives are far from their imagined pleasures. They decide they need to try something different to prepare for their next book.
Tags:VALENTINES DAY 2025, PINK ORCHID 2025, Anal Sex, Bareback, Being Watched, Butt Plug, Costume, No Panties, Public Sex, Straight Sex
*****
Wednesday Sonata
"I got my copy of 'Hidden Diamonds,'" the voice said through the laptop's speaker as the dark haired young woman on the screen waved her right hand, "so that's wrapped. I've got just the idea for the next book."
"Uh, we already have the next book started. Sequel to 'Rage of Dragons.'"
"No. Keep up, Bailey babe," the disembodied voice snapped, "since we're gonna do romantasy, we do something different."
"Uh, Carly. We made some bank on that dragon. Well, dragons and goblins and a very horny elf."
"Every dork with a keyboard and their sister, brother, second and third cousins, hell, their grandmothers, are writing dragons. Too crowded, 'Rage' hasn't done the numbers it SHOULD'VE done. We need to branch out. Get our own romantasy line going. With a twist."
Bailey let out a slow sigh, a quick chuckle back at her through the speaker. "Twist?
"We have a succubus. With lustrous raven hair and deepest black wings and the most amazing tits men have ever seen—-."
"Uh, that last part...," Bailey jumped in with an amused lilt.
Carly growled and glared. "As I was saying, amazing tits. But she lives in a land where if the sun shines for three days straight, people panic. Grey. Dreary. And our lovely, sensual succubus is in trouble. Her last few hunts have been, well, disappointing. Men and a woman not worthy of her talents. But worse, souls full of moss and not to the standards her infernal bosses demand."
Bailey offered intermittent hums during the breathy introduction. She jumped in when Carly paused to inhale and pointed at the screen.
"Raven hair. Dreary skies. Sounds like uh, I might've met this succubus. Definitely incompetent when it comes to choosing someone to fuck. As to living in the dreariest place on Earth, she always moans about that but never does anything."
The last part of her statement was punctuated by jabbing a forefinger at the screen and spoken in an amused tone.
"Gathering souls might be plenty of fun, but not like it pays well. Inheriting this house means," Carly said as she leaned to her right and pulled an item into view, "she has money to buy plenty of sex toys."
Dark hair shook as she held the strap on harness as its attached beige dildo shook.
"And this," she held up a black butt plug and thumbed a switch on its base, "and it lights up and vibrates. Can control it with an app on my phone."
Bailey shook her head and let out a laugh. "She needs those because she's not finding any proper souls to take."
"Fortunately, our beautiful raven-haired succubus with the awesome tits—-."
"I'm still not clear on that last part," Carly interjected, "we're obviously not talking about the same succubus."
"Fortunately," Carly said firmly as she set the toys beside herself on the sofa, "our succubus knows another succubus. This one has red hair and her wings are blood red. But she thinks awesome tits aren't awesome because she's too used to looking at her own very mediocre chest in the mirror, and she hopes every set is as lame as hers."
"Ah, a succubus with red hair, now, SHE does have an awesome rack," Bailey said as she cupped her breasts through her shirt.
"Hah. If she tries to wear a bra that belongs to our raven-haired succubus, they get lost in all the room in there. But, we're getting away from the point."
"What point? The first succubus is obsessed with sex toys and delusional about her boobs—-."
"That first point I'll concede. Only the first point. But the REAL point is that the red-haired succubus is in a position to take care of their mutual 'we need a soul or we're getting sucked back to hell' issue."
"She is? Huh?"
The screen flipped to a picture of a handsome young man, his light brown hair cut stylishly short. His body was slim with well-defined muscles. The exposed skin from his waist to his upper thighs was a degree lighter than the tan on the rest of his body. He seemed to be wrapped in a hazy aura.
The picture was from an odd angle, like the lens had been very low, and at a bit of an angle from his left. Something overlaid the top right corner, like an obstruction over that part of the lens. The subject held a beer can wrapped in a cozy in his right hand. It appeared he was speaking to another person, just a disembodied hand holding its own beer.
"Say what?" Bailey exclaimed. "That's—-."
"Trevor. At least that's the name you gave me."
"How'd you get that picture? I've never seen it. I only sent you—-."
"Ones with clothes. Boring. Not important. This is him, right?"
"Uh, yeah. That's him. All of him."
Oh, shit, Bailey managed to not say. The background. One of the undeveloped hot springs in the mountains an hour or so away. Which explained the angle. Taking photos was very definitely against the unwritten rules. Only 'thou shalt not wear bathing suits' was more stringent.
"And you, Bailey Jones, multiply award nominated co-author of the spiciest romance novels around at the moment, have NOT fucked this incredible hunk o'meat."
"Um, no. Haven't even managed, uh, a date."
Marta. Yeah, had to have been her. Back in November. Bailey remembered passing on her frenemy's invitation, for some perfectly reasonable reason based on who was making the invitation, but obviously massively stupid reason based on who'd been there. Had Marta done more than sneaky photos? Doubtful, or the bitch would've never shut up about it.
"So we have two succubuses, or, um, is it succubi? In any case, we need to collect a soul. And the hottest, juiciest, hunkiest one around is lusting after your scrawny ass. And you haven't jumped him. And that's our solution."
"Solution?"
"I have it on good authority," Carly said as her voice slowed and went husky, "that he's single. Right?"
"So far as I know," Bailey said as she didn't mention Marta, "where's this going?"
"Straight into your bedroom," Carly said as she held up the strap-on and the video returned to her face and torso, "you, me, him, this. Gonna double up on each other while he pounds both of us one after the other. Haven't dug up if he's into, you know..."
She held the strap-on at her waist and thrust forward and back a couple of times, a broad grin on her face.
"Wait," Bailey said and held her right hand up, palm facing the screen, "you. Me. Him?"
Carly tossed the strap-on to her right and leaned left. When she straightened she had one set of glossy, leathery wings in each hand. One set so dark they seemed to Bailey more of a hole in space, visible only because they were outlined in a red almost as deep. The second set red, but they seemed to float in space with a black outline.
"I'm flying down to your land of sunshine in the morning, and we've got the awards show day after, on Valentine's. You tell Trevor that you apologize 'cuz your ass is scrawny and your tits questionable, but assure him your raven-haired succubus friend has an awesome chest and a sweet, round ass, and he should come over tomorrow and we'll, let's just say that I have quite the imagination when it comes to what we'll be doing. Over and over. And we'll get our soul."
Bailey made a gruff sound in her throat as Carly waved the wings and grinned on the screen.
"I'm gonna let some of that go, but invite him over?"
"He knows you write the books, right?"
"Yeah, it came up when I was doing that freelance tech writing gig. How we met. But he said he hasn't read any."
"So you didn't tell him he's in 'Hidden Diamonds?'" Carly held up a book with a cover showing three people, two women and a man. The latter with an undeniable resemblance to the Trevor under discussion. "That we've already imagined and written him having incredible sex? Good."
"No. And what's with the wings?"
"We're gonna LARP the show. And this weekend. We've got that reading and signing on Saturday, day after the show, right?"
"I managed to get two, afternoon and evening, different places. So long as you're in town, one trip. I checked, both got the new books. They'll put 'em on display Saturday morning after the awards show and just before the readings."
"Cool. We'll read 'Rage' and the new one, and hopefully sign a bunch people buy. But we're gonna tease the shit out of 'Way of the Succubus' to everyone. Had Cale dummy up a cover to make a banner. And we're going to get past our mutual dry spells. We'll wear the wings, and I've got our whole getups, for each day. We'll get nasty nasty with Trevor, try out everything we've described him as doing. But for real. Then we'll take him to the shows where we'll be decked out full succubus, show off our prey. He's cover worthy, plenty of attention. But you need to check something."
"Check? You mean your sanity?"
"My picture's part of the definition of sane," Catly said and she offered a hard glare when Bailey laughed, "anyway. We're succubuses. Succubi. We fuck skin on skin. Fluids. So many sticky, gooey hopefully yummy fluids. Your IUD's top shape? Don't want little imps running around. Least not yet."
"Your picture IS in that dictionary definition. With the caption 'not her.'"
"Anyway. We'll highlight our succubus book—-."
"That we haven't even started writing!"
"Got an outline," Carly said and held both wings with one hand so she could tap the keyboard in front of her, "and now you have it."
Bailey's laptop chirped. A tiny notification popped up in the lower corner. 'New email from Carly.'
"Besides," Carly said, "if we do the next few days right, we'll just need to describe what we get up to."
"I, uh, I am speechless," Bailey said, "this is the most insane plan you've ever come up with. We're not writing a book, we're living it."
"LARPing it. Look, I'm horny as hell. Been frigging myself raw, after the last few disasters. We're just this far," Carly held her thumb and forefinger apart and closed the gap slowly, "from being able to dump the side-gigs and just pump out novels. But, goddamn, we're poster children for 'those who can't do, teach!' We could walk out of the awards show Friday with best Couples sex scene and maybe even Open Door of the Year, and I've lost track last time I blew a load while I had my legs wrapped around a hot dude's naked ass. Or even a chick's head! Tired of only my imagination getting a workout and not my pussy. And next to the definition of 'dating' is your picture, with the caption 'not her.'"
Bailey looked past the screen as her eyes lost focus.
"So. Succubuses," she said as her gaze returned to the screen, but without firm focus.
"Yeah. We'll alternate, dragons and succubeses. Romantasy high and urban. Urbantasy? Hell, if we can establish a new sub-genre, our tickets will arrive. Our horses will be punched. Or however those go. Whatever. So just get him to come over. That's kinda key. Get the juices flowing tomorrow. Literally. Gushing."
