Today I want to introduce everyone to my talented new friend from Belfast Ireland, Rea Thomas.
Rea writes for Ellora’s Cave and just released a very steamy Quickie for the new EC For Men Line.
Hush… Don’t tell anyone but EC For Men is fun reading for women too!
Rea Thomas has never really been sure about anything in life. She doesn't have much of an opinion on religion or politics (until she drinks a few vodkas, and then maybe you'd wish you hadn't asked!). But one thing she's always been certain of was that she loved telling stories and wanted to be a writer.
She's fortunate to live in a country filled with myths, legends and very green fields - and Northern Ireland constantly fuels her imagination.
Aside from writing, Rea loves photography, languages (particularly Indian ones), culture, foreign film (particularly Indian ones... do you sense a theme?), cricket and books.
I love Rea and I know you will too. By the way when Rea says she “likes” Indian languages and film she really means she loves this:
Bollywood gorgeous! Can you blame her?
Blurb for Pleasure Express:
Marty, a workaholic whose personal life has taken a backseat, rides on the last train home every night. It’s on this train that he meets the ultimate fantasy woman—sexy, beautiful and naughty, and she seems to enjoy toying with him.
It starts out innocently enough, but before long Marty is bearing witness to the nameless woman’s far naughtier side—a little cleavage, the uncrossing of her legs and then mutual masturbation that guarantees Marty will never miss the train again.
He’s pretty certain nothing more could ever develop between them; after all, he’s far too reserved to approach her and he suspects she enjoys the voyeuristic side to their wicked games. Then one night, she admits it’s her last trip onboard the train. She’s leaving town—and wants to give Marty the ride of his life before she goes.
Excerpt for Pleasure Express:
“Hi,” the woman said gently, her voice as smooth and syrupy as honey. “I’m leaving town tomorrow.” My eyes flickered to the cardboard box filled with personal desk belongings, then back to her. She was still smiling.
“I’m… sorry to hear that?” I tried. I was hopeless with women, always had been. They mystified me, left me feeling mentally drained as though I had been puzzling over a Rubick’s cube for hours. I couldn’t work out their motives, their mindset, or anything really. It explained why the entire female species had given up on me.
“Yeah,” the stranger said, lifting a perfectly manicured hand to sweep away the strand of hair. She looked divine, a vision of perfection in her tight skirt and near-sheer blouse. “We’ve been taking this train together every night now for months,” she continued with firm command. “I expected you might introduce yourself, ask me out, even say ‘hello’ – but it seems you’re one of those guys.” Her bluish eyes took time to roll in despair, as though she were bemoaning how utterly useless I was. “So I thought maybe we could skip those preliminaries and you could just fuck me now.”
It had happened to me before that I would lose myself in a lurid sexual fantasy while talking to a woman. Like the pixie-haired blonde at the deli-counter who made my tuna salad bagels at lunchtime. When she said to me ‘that’s two pounds ten, please’ I imagined she was saying ‘I want to suck your dick, Marty.’. Her lips were moving but the words I heard were wholly different to the ones she was actually saying. For a moment I thought the same thing was happening here.
“P-pardon?” I spluttered, anything but smooth.
“Look,” she said evenly, a finely tapered eyebrow rising as though she were talking to a particularly dim-witted child. “You’ve been staring at me for months now.” Her head gestured to the seat she regularly occupied. “So, had you found the courage to ask me out we would have gone to dinner, chatted inanely about things neither of us are interested in, discovering information about one and other that just taints the sexual attraction.” Her mouth was speaking the most beautiful words, as though I were dreaming the best dream ever. I was speechless, which was perfectly all right as it seemed she had plenty to say. “I’m saving you money, saving me time and best of all, saving us from the mind-numbing tedium of having to pretend we actually give a shit about all those petty details.”
She braced her arm on the chair, leaning close enough for me to smell her perfume, something fruity and summery. Her blouse revealed cleavage, her tits pressed together, tantalizing me. I couldn’t look away and my cock was rigid.
Her fingers toyed with the pointed end of my tie, her eyes locked on my face. She didn’t make any attempt to slap me when I refused to draw my gaze away from her tits. I’d learned from experience that women didn’t like that – but this woman seemed to almost get a kick out of my helplessness.
“T-the conductor might come at any minute,” I spluttered, dragging my rounded eyes to her face. She looked like a school mistress, displeased at my incompetence.
“When was the last time we saw a conductor at this time?” she asked patiently. My eyes flittered to the door between compartments, trying to remember if I ever had seen a conductor on this train. She and I were almost always alone – two solitary people in the last compartment. When I glanced back she had deftly popped one button on her blouse, revealing the lacy trim on her white bra. I found my throat was dry, my tongue sticking ineffectively to the roof of my mouth.
Rea Thomas "Pleasure Express"
Ellora's Cave For Men. Available now!
Happy New Year, thank you for dropping by!