From a bold and captivating voice comes a collection of stories that probes women's darkest passions and pushes the boundaries of erotic fiction. Sometimes romantic, sometimes raw, Zane appeals to men and women alike with these tales of intoxicating sensuality.
THE Sex CHRONICLES
SHATTERING THE MYTH
Anyone who thinks that men are by nature more sexual than women or that African-American women are especially inhibited hasn't read Zane. Here, she presents an erotic read in three parts: Wild, Wilder, and Off Da Damn Hook. With a unique ability to tell it like it is -- and also to tell it like it could be in your wildest dreams -- Zane crafts stories about everyone from the sensual housewife who wants her husband to experiment more to a secret underground sorority of women that organizes some rather unconventional social events. By turns tender and outrageous, The Sex Chronicles is a pleasure from beginning to end.
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May 01, 2002
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Excerpt from Zane's The Sex Chronicles by Zane
from Wild: First Night
We ride up the coast to Maine on your brand-new motorcycle and stop for the night at a cozy, secluded bed and breakfast inn. They show us to our room. It is very romantic, with a fireplace and antique Victorian furniture. Beside the sofa is a round little table with a white linen tablecloth and burning white candles. Our room also has a huge, king-size bed on a riser with two steps leading up to it. The bed has large fluffy pillows, crisp white sheets, and a huge down comforter.
As they deliver our dinner to our room, we can see that it is beginning to rain through the large, picturesque windows. The room has a balcony. We open the French doors so we can hear the raindrops and feel the cool breeze as it enters the room. We sit down at the dinner table and begin to sip on the Dom Perignon while we eat the tender steak, baked potatoes, carrots, and oven-fresh rolls we ordered for dinner.
After dinner, we take the throw blanket that is sprawled across the sofa and lay it out on the floor by the fireplace. We continue to drink the champagne and toast each other as we watch the embers glisten in the fire and listen to the rain.
We feed each other fresh strawberries dipped in chocolate and discuss the drive up. Then you take my hand and lead me out onto the covered balcony. We can feel raindrops trickle across our skin. You kiss me, and our tongues intertwine as we begin to kiss deep and passionately. You go back inside the room for a moment, returning with an empty bottle that previously contained the Perrier springwater we drank on the bike on the way up. You set it on the edge of the balcony, with the lid off, and little raindrops begin to fall into it. You look me in my eyes and tell me you are going to collect the raindrops in the bottle and save them as a remembrance of the night we first made love.
I run my fingers across your cheeks and then take your hand and begin to suck your fingers, putting each one entirely into my mouth and sucking it gently. You pick me up. I wrap my legs around your waist, and you hold me up against the wall on the rear of the balcony. We begin to kiss again, but deeper this time, as I caress the back of your head and run my fingernails down the center of your back, tickling your spine through your shirt.
The black skintight dress that I changed into for dinner and your white shirt and black trousers begin to get damp from the rain. You can see my hard nipples protruding from the top of my revealing dress. You pull the shoulder straps of my dress down and begin to suck on my left nipple and palm my right breast in your hand, rubbing your thumb across my nipple. You begin to grind your hips between my legs, and I can feel your hard dick applying pressure to my pussy. I begin to gyrate my hips on top of your dick through your pants.