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Carnal Instincts (extract)

Rosa re-crossed her legs. She contemplated leaving them slightly open and noting the look in the professor’s eyes as she gave him a view of her inner thighs, but opted for the more professional approach – ensuring that there was still enough outer thigh on show to get a rise in his pants. She willed him to take off his lab coat so she could see, but telepathy wasn’t her strong point and it remained wrapped around him. It gave him the upper hand, and she knew he knew it.

“I’m afraid you would have to do a lot more work to prove to me that your theories are correct, Doctor—“

“Rosa, Professor. Please. We’ve had these discussions often enough for you to use my first name, surely?” Now was the time. She unravelled her knees and leant forward, her breasts pushing against the top of her bra, leaving the hint of two exposed, fleshy mounds. Her legs parted slightly. Having practised this in front of a mirror many times, she knew that what the professor could see was the stocking disappearing into a cavern of darkness. Just enough and not too much. “Let’s see, then, Professor. I—“

New projects for 2020 by Ina Morata

New Year, New Projects

I had begun writing erotica at the request of someone else, several years ago. I did as I had been ordered, not knowing what to expect, but the interesting thing was that I discovered that, over time, it began to free me – from my life, from expectations placed upon me, and most importantly, from myself. And I discovered that I wasn’t too bad at it, and that I enjoyed it! Yet I was beginning to feel displaced. Did I want to write about the sexual as something disparate and standalone with no context and no feeling? Did I want to write about the erotic at all? Why was I doing so?