The Frisky Fairy Reviews favorite toys, books, blogs, and other fun sex education reviews!
So this week I am at Catalyst Con in the wonderful Arlington, VA! It’s so much fun and I’m having the time of my life. Make sure you keep your eyes peeled for when I talk about my experience at Catalyst! You can always follow me on Twitter or Facebook and get the experience as it’s happening!
Between my busy schedule and balancing my relationships, sometimes I need to come up with creative ways to read my books for reviews. This often means that I’m reading some very sexy books in some very unusual places. Take, for instance, my reading of Rachel Kramer Bussel’s Peepshow: Tales of Voyeurs and Exhibitionists . I figured that I’d read it while I was on the treadmill/bike at the gym so that I could get ahead on my review schedule.
What a terrible mistake I made.
Upon opening the book I read through Rachel’s quick introduction and began to submit myself to delicious torture for the evening. The first story, Susan St. Aubin’s “Showtime”, described a woman who watched her neighbor during his workout through her window. I was reading and working out, which lead me to almost tripping over my feet, so I put the book down. The words were still caught up in my head, and it was all I could do not to stare at the other gym-goers and think of the sexy story. The description in my mind had my face all red, and it wasn’t because I was getting my cardio on!
Once I relocated to a more suitable reading location, I began to read through in more depth. It could be that the content doesn’t do as much for me, but unlike my last review, I was a bit less excited by this one. I was less impressed with the language and content, although, true to form there was a great deal of diversity. I wish there had been more body diversity in Peepshow but that’s alright. As usual, I truly enjoyed the range of stories, from voyeur to exhibitionist, from beginner to advanced. The book had a few stories that really stuck with me, “Showtime”, “Indecent”, and “Calendar Girl” were three of my favorites and I’ve included excerpts below.
I love this book and I think you will too! Peepshow gets the Frisky Fairy seal of approval. Get frisky and get yours here!
Until Next Time!
-The Frisky Fairy
Showtime by Susan St. Aubin
Across the way, the lights come on. The young man, whose name she hasn’t tried to discover, walks slowly in, wearing only his tight short pants, a towel around his neck. The pants are like black plastic molded to his body. He mounts his stationary bike, which faces her this time, pulling himself up with his muscular arms while sucking in his impossibly flat abdomen. He smiles because even though he can’t see his audience in the dark, he knows she’s there. Her apartment is the theater; his, the stage. He pedals carefully at first, then faster, more recklessly, as if he plans to crash through her window and land at her feet, her slave forever.
She’s breathing faster, in time with his pedaling. Is that her hand unzipping her pants, slipping her fingers down? She raises her hips and rocks back and forth in her chair as he spins into her.
Indecent by Lolita Lopez
Trini strutted confidently along the ledge, showing off her gleaming, toned legs and the shockingly scant swatch of gold material covering her immaculately waxed sex. A cool breeze buffeted her body, highlighting the dampness of the material pressed up against her cunt and hidden between the cheeks of her ass. Her body hummed with arousal, feeding off the vibrant energy of the crowd. The hardened peaks of her breasts poked against the thin material constraining them. Trini wanted nothing more than to slip her fingers beneath her G-string and strum her stiff clit.
But it wouldn’t take much to send her hurling over the edge— Literally and figuratively.
Calendar Girl by Angela Caperton
A real girl, Desi thought, and slipped her fingers through the satiny moss, but a goddess too, sacred to men, naked and made to be worshipped.
Sometimes she stopped but other days, the thoughts were too much and she reached deeper, across the rough, sweet spot into the heat of her treasure, wet, sometimes dripping, desperate for a touch, or, even better, to be seen.
Closing her eyes before the fire burned her alive, Desi sometimes imagined the girl in the mirror was April.