Artistically Inclined

14,000 WORDS


Purple Prosaic is a self-publishing label featuring the nocturnal emissions of eroticists Alessia Brio & Will Belegon.



Determined not to repeat past mistakes and allow their sex life to become stale and repetitive, Cyndi issues Kevin a Valentine's Day challenge: to exchange -- and fulfill -- fantasy lists. His response provides the canvas for an evening of daring inclinations and passionate creativity.

Cyndi & Kevin's romance continues in BOUND FOR SUCCESS.


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Kevin's ass looked awesome in tight jeans, but it was the dress slacks that completely undid her. The lightweight wool pair he'd been wearing draped so elegantly from the curve of those glorious gluts that she'd nearly asked him to stay over—something they usually reserved for the nights before his days off, since sleep so often took a backseat to more vigorous activities. Over their draft beer and stuffed crust, double cheese pizza, Cyndi had opened her mouth to extend the invitation just as Kevin revealed his wicked little idea: that they abstain from sex until next week.

The man could be damned ornery, and apparently this little idea of hers had brought out the trait in full force. The bastard didn't even give her a single hint about what his list might contain, in spite of her not-so-subtle prying. She knew only that he'd worked on it already. Cyndi wondered, not for the first time, if they'd have any of the same fantasies. What if their lists were so far apart that they could find no common ground? Better to learn that now, she reassured herself, before we become more entangled in one another's lives.

Cyndi climbed the narrow stairs to her studio and flipped on the track lighting, chasing the shadows from every corner. During the day, she worked by the natural light provided by over a dozen skylights. The nights, however, often brought out characteristics not always evident during the day. Something about the envelope of darkness made things jump out at her in ways that sunlight could not evoke.

Cyndi immediately felt the pulse of the piece, pulling her toward the center of the room. It spoke to her in a primal tongue, so instinctive and pure that all the arbitrary constructs of sin and salvation were obliterated by passion. She unbuttoned her jeans and slipped a hand inside to cup her sex before remembering their promise: no orgasms 'til Tuesday. Good Lord, I'll have a hair trigger by then!

I came up here to type my list, she reminded herself, averting her eyes as she skirted the painting to reach her computer. After clearing her inbox, she opened a new message and addressed it, for the time being, to herself. She'd change the recipient to Kevin on Monday morning but didn't want to risk sending it prematurely by accident. If Kevin was going to be so secretive, then damn it, she would be, too.

She typed the first two items onto her wish list without pause and then froze, fingers poised over the keyboard, pondering her options. It didn't take long for her to realize that she had no clue how Kevin felt about so many things—including one of her most enduring fantasies. Well, he'll have others from which to choose if this one is not his cup of tea, she thought as she typed: "I want to have sex with you and Tony."