Leave it to Trifecta to flush out a holiday worth celebrating- National Erotica Day November 15th. The challenge this week is to write –33 to 333 words of erotic writing.  This challenge is open to interpretation.  “It’s, allegedly, not as easy as it looks.” is an understatement. Erotic writing runs the gamut from the audacious pornographic musings with scintillating detail to the tamer bodice ripper regency romance and a whole lot in between. Below is my tame offering opening someplace in the middle of events unfolding.


Anna left virtue and poverty behind as the ballroom doors opened to her. Her black mask, studded with tiny gold gems, hid her identity. She became a woman of means as she stepped though the threshold of Gavin Hall.

In the foyer, Anna’s borrowed velvet dress clung to her as she lifted her arms to readjust her mask. At her side Sir John coughed behind a mask and held out a hand. Anna recognized him, and presented her hand like a gift. He accepted, pulling her closer.

“And to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“Miss Simpson from America.”

Sir John’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Ah, yes. Miss Simpson.”

“And you are?”

“John, Sir John Gavin.”

Music drifted toward them from the main ballroom. “Shall we?” Sir John gesture toward the music.

“Yes,” said Anna, allowing Sir John to steer her to the dance floor, his right hand squeezing her just below the small of her back under the folded drape of her gown. His hand spread; his smile widened with pleasure.

Sir john took her gloved hand in his, and skillfully guided her to him. Anna pressed into him, her body close enough to feel Sir John’s heart beat fast against her, his breath whispering in her ear. “Come with me Anna.” Anna could feel the eyes of the other dancers on them; she could hear their faint murmurs of wonder.

Suddenly a tap on Sir John’s shoulder took him away, and Anna found herself dancing with a stranger in a carnival mask. His grip and passion were more commanding than Sir John’s. Anna composed herself, willing her body to hold firm.

“Lost your partner?” said Anna teasing.

“No. Have you?”

“No. I… You are?” Anna asked.

In reply, the stranger swept Anna toward an open door and onto a terrace above a garden where they danced as one, each step pulling them closer together until Anna , cheeks flush, sighed into a lingering kiss which spread as a white heat through her body.


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