The Glass House New 2019 BDSM Novel!

The Glass House by Lizbeth Dusseau
A simple story of lust, abandon and surrender

There will be no hiding in this hideaway...He builds her a retreat from the world, tucked into the woods. But this is no secluded forest hideaway! Carrie's glass house is open to the world...including all the men that traipse across his property. No curtains. No blinds. No way to hide. But then, why would she want to? The sexy seductress loves her naked exhibitions before the hungering eyes of her admirers. Some even darken the doorway, looking for sex, with Carrie willing to give them what they want.

Here's a sexy excerpt from this new novel...
For further information about this book, you can find it on my new Etsy site...Lizbeth Erotica

          On the afternoon that Tony arrived, I’d just finished a lengthy piece of writing. I was elated and in the mood for celebration. When it comes to celebrations, it might have been more fitting if Jerry had been the one to inaugurate my new little home. He was always up for a party. Instead, there was a more sedate Tony standing at my front door with, of all things, a casserole in hand.

          

 “Welcome to the neighborhood,” he said as he passed the warm dish to me.

         

 I was surprised by the gesture, and found myself laughing.

          

 “It’s okay, isn’t it?”

          

 “It’s lovely, thank you!” I beamed as I set the dish on the kitchen counter, and then gave him a grateful hug.

          

 If that hug had broken apart even a second sooner, my fate in the glass house might have been quite different. But there was a lingering moment when the rush of electricity between us was more than either of us expected. I felt his body pulse against mine and couldn’t seem to pull from his grasp. There was a quickening in my belly, which while awkward at the outset, was unmistakably arousing. Obviously Tony felt that arousal, too. He slowly backed me to the kitchen counter, his hand in my hair, my lips parting and ready to meet his. When I hit concrete countertop, there was a brief moment of hesitation when either of us could have stepped away. However, it seemed that neither of us was capable of halting the visceral passion that drove us to each other.

          

 The kisses that followed were long and deep with tongues penetrating and mouths fixed. Our crotches, pressed tightly together, gave rise an urgent necessity. Though it was raw and unsettling the force of continued to expand.

          

 “Please, don’t stop?” I whispered almost thoughtlessly.

          

 He suddenly whipped me around so I was bent over the counter. Pushed my floor-length flowered skirt to the floor, he exposed my naked behind.

           

“My, you are quite the slut, aren’t you?” he murmured in my ear. He said it with a degree of admiration that made the comment sound like a compliment.

          

 I responded by shoving my wiggling crotch against his groin. Yes, I was every bit the slut!

          

 Because it was handy, I suppose, he picked a carafe of olive oil and drizzled some between my ass cheeks. I knew where he was going – just as he had during the orgy. He rubbed the oil deeply into my crack, aiming for the tight rosette he previously fucked. The foreplay was brief, only what was necessary to have me lubricated and ready. As his hand slid away, his cock slipped into my rear door, penetrating as far as his hard erection would go. Then with a demanding force and very little finesse, the fucking rhythm began and swiftly built to a critical peak. I rarely come quickly when fucked in the ass; it usually takes a lot more teasing than we engaged in that day. But everything about him from the feel of his hands clutching my ass cheeks to his breath upon neck to the rapid action of his cock pummeling my back door brought us to an abrupt and explosive ending. At the moment I came, every nerve in my body fired off at once. How Tony did it, I have no idea. But he seemed to hit every sexual hot button as if he’d been screwing me for years.

           

I’ve always wondered if my screaming and Tony’s guttural groaning could be heard from outside the glass walls. Certainly we could be seen if there was someone passing by. I shuddered from that thought alone.

          

 When the physical climax hit, I thought we were finished as soon as the spasms began to ease off. However, in one final move, Tony reached around and found my throbbing clit. He pressed it between his fingers, pinching firmly until I was spasming crazily and wiggling my rear end into his groin. At last, his cock slid out.

          

Although the sex was over, we remained locked together for several minutes before we finally broke apart. When we did, a very different sort of longing rose up inside me. I have no idea what that was. There certainly were words to describe the feelings that passed between us. Perhaps something from another lifetime bleeding through into this one. Perhaps. Its very nature defies explanation, but I felt oddly and very deeply satisfied by that random fuck. As if it was meant to be.

          

 “Oh, my god!” I whispered under my breath. “What did we just do?”

           

I turned to face Tony, blushing like a tender bride, though I was not tender nor was I a bride. We were face to face, our bodies still so close that I feel his breath on my cheek and the heat emanating from his body. 

          

 “I fucked you in the ass,” he stated simply.

          

 “Yes, I know.”

           

“And it was good.”

          

 “Of course it was.”

          

 His next remark brought me up short.

          “You’ll have to tell him.”

          

 Tell him? Damon?

           

The thought hadn’t even entered my mind.

          

 I gazed back at him doubtfully, to which his eyes narrowed, looking so intimidating that wanted to back away, even though I was still backed up against the kitchen counter. “You don’t tell him, I will.” I had no doubt that he would.

           

“Of course I will.” Even I could hear the hesitation in my voice.

           

“I mean it!” he said, just to be sure I knew that he was serious.

          

 He waited a moment, then swiped a kitchen towel from the drain board, turned me about and wiped away the cum leaking from my ass.

           

“So, what does this mean? You and me… ” I wondered aloud as I turned back.

          

 He thought a moment. “It means we were horny. It means that fidelity is not all that important to either of us.” He shrugged. “It means that we enjoyed the last half hour. At least I did.” His face had finally softened and his meager smile broadened into a full grin.

With grateful thanks...

Speaking from the heart...

(Keep reading for a story from my BDSM novel Scandal For Sale, promised in my last post, January 9, 2018.)

After a lengthy hiatus, it's been a long journey back into the erotica world, a world that was once intimately familiar to me. In 1989 when I wrote my first novel Alexandra's Awakening, I was one of the lone voices penning erotic fiction in the United States. There was no internet at the time, and only a handful of markets were available for the kind of kinky fiction I liked to write. I was lucky to have my first awkwardly written novels published by New York publishers, and lucky to take those first successes and turn them into a profitable publishing company that thrived for nearly 20 years. Most importantly, I was fortunate to have so many fans and readers with like fantasies write to me, encourage me and faithfully continue to purchase my books.


Bottomline, this is a post about gratitude. My thanks to all the readers who, whether they loved or hated what I wrote, were willing to take a chance on the work of an untried author who harbored more fantasy they she ever could have imagined. 

Since 2012, (when my personal life crashed into grief) I've been back to this blog only sporadically. I published one new work in 2014, that I believe was one of my best...although it received little notice. (That would be Spontaneous Combustion...hit the link if you'd like to read a short excerpt from this work that was posted when the novel was released) In my disappointment over that experience, I walked away from writing erotica to explore new possibilities for my life... and have found many.

Doors have opened in the last couple years and a new me has emerged. However, it's clear to me that one common thread remains through all the changes during the thirty years of my career...I love to write. And I especially love to write about women and sex and the men that they love.

This post may be the beginning of regular posts, highlighting my old books and introducing my new work...I make no promises, but I look forward to being back in a world I love and sharing my work with old and new readers.

(By the way, there's much to do on this blog to make it current. When my company was bought out in 2016, the brand name was kept alive with the founding of Pink Flamingo Media. I'll have more about this soon. This means that most of of the links to my books in the blog posts need to be updated to the current website. It's going to take a while before that's all done. In the meantime, there are many great free stories and excerpts on this blog for you to enjoy. If you have any interest in knowing more about the books from which the excerpts are taken, check my complete catalog at: Pink Flamingo Media)

And now...that sexy excerpt from Scandal For Sale...


I am home from the most extraordinary night of my life.

         It’s almost midnight, but I can’t sleep.

          I arrived at Judge Perdue’s having no clue what he had in mind. His house is old, an English Tudor with a gnarled doorpost and ivy crawling up the sides like snakes. A gargoyle sits on the doorstep—a warning for those about to enter.

          He was so gracious, as was his wife, Mrs. Perdue. She laid her hands on me as she took my coat, being motherly with eyes as wise as an owl’s. I could tell she could see through me, although. I’m sure the two had discussed me in detail.

          “My, how lovely she is!” the woman exclaimed to her husband, as if I were a piece of fine china. The woman is handsome, over forty, with the look for fortyish women—collected, cool and in control, just like the man she married. She is a mature clone of my roommate and much more appealing. I wanted her to hold me for a long while.

          We entered their living room, which seemed innocuous enough. I’m not sure what I expected—racks and chains I suppose. But there were none. I was sure that I had completely misjudged the invitation to dinner, as my imagination took flight in kinky fantasy.

          Judge Perdue sat in his judicial looking chair, while she on the sofa. I was offered a small upholstered chair that could hardly hold my ass—which is not big at all. I know now there was a method behind their plans.

          “Some tea?” Mrs. Perdue asked.

          “Yes, ma’am,” I said to be polite. She served three cups of Orange Pekoe tea, and we settled back to talk.

          “A slave would take the floor,” the Judge started, and I turned to him.

          My tummy was in knots. Was this what he wanted me to do? Sit on the floor? I was too scared to ask.

          “A slave in the presence of their owner would only wear clothes if they were instructed to do so. They would wear only what was provided.”

          My gut wrenched again.

          “A slave would pleasure in humiliation, offer their body for inspection, allow themselves to be used in any way their owner desires, and consent to any sexual activity, public or private that was demanded of them. A slave would obey. Disobedience and hesitation would be punished, with punishment cruelly administered until the slave’s behavior had been transformed to obedience.”

          He cleared his throat while I absorbed these amazing thoughts.

          “This is what is expected of you,” Judge Purdue told me. “If this is the vision that you have of yourself, then you can have it,” he paused, looking somewhat unsure if he wanted to add, “with me.”

          “You, Sir?” My eyes bugged out, while my stomach flipped again.

          “You’ve given away your desires a dozen times, Miss Lourdes.”

          I knew this. He hardly had to tell me.

          “Do you want to spend your life waiting to have what you desire, wishing, hoping, thinking about it, masturbating to the thoughts that grip your soul? Or, do you want to choose slavery and learn what it means?”

          He was serious. This was no game, no innocent inquiry, no judicious study of a bizarre societal practice he offered, but real slavery.

         

I can’t believe now what I said. What I committed to tonight. I said, yes, a stunning, clearly distinct, YES. I answered in the affirmative with this steady voice so unlike myself. To my great admission, Judge Perdue nodded and Mrs. Perdue smiled. They seemed to know long before I made my commitment what my answer would be. I barely knew these two, and I was pledging myself to them! To intimacy. To total exposure. To a world a barely knew. Was I mad or just honoring what I’d desired my whole life?

          With this simple formality over, I sat back and listened to the Judge’s long monologue. The words fly by me now, not fit for memory, but the gist of my agreement was spelled out clearly.

          I will be his owned slave until school dismisses in the spring—at which time our agreement will be reviewed. If I am still wanting with my whole heart, the binding between us becomes more permanent. I will be his slave until he releases, sells or gives me away. Sells? Gives me away? I consent to give up my liberty. To give him my thoughts to mold, my body to use and my life to dictate.

          I cannot believe how much these agreements parallel the wickedness that has been hidden so long inside my fierce denial.

          I will remain in school taking courses he agrees to. For a time, I’ll stay in the dorm with my roommate and spend only the hours he designates at his home.

         I can tell this is my trial.

         My hand shakes as I write these words…my fingers can hardly work. The raw excitement of my evening lingers with me leaving every nerve in me on edge.

         “Miss Lourdes, please stand.” He said this quietly, yet his order seemed to clap like thunder through my body. His eyes were glorious, brilliantly passionate as they inspected me from the tip of my head to my toes. Then he said quiet simply. “Remove your clothes.”

Ebook Paperback

Returning to my blog at last...

After two and half years, I'm back online! Much has changed in my life during this time.

Pink Flamingo Publications is now Pink Flamingo Media, but much remains the same. All my erotica titles are still available in downloadable ebooks, and in paperback.

Check out the new website, not only for my own erotic fiction, but erotica from over 60 authors. You'll find over 450 titles, Maledom BDSM, Femdom, LGBT, fetish and general erotica. Though the site is new, the address remains the same: www.pinkflamingo.com

Please note: The links inside my blog pages will have changed, but you can easily search for my books by name, or see the entire listing of my titles on my Author page on the site. 

I have just completed a revision of my novel Scandal for Sale. For information about this title click here. I'll be posting a new excerpt soon. 


And I'll will be posting more hot & sexy erotica excepts for you to enjoy in the coming weeks. As always, I welcome your feedback and comments.

Wishing you all a happy 2018!  Lizbeth