This blog post contains adult material not intended for readers under eighteen.

The second Tuesday of the month brings us another blog hop among writers of erotica and erotic romance. Check out the other blog posts here: https://mfrwsteam.blogspot.com/

My contribution is a scene from Through the Red Door, Book One in the Book Nirvana series. Book Nirvana is a quirky bookshop in Eugene, Oregon, whose extensive collection of erotic literature and art books is kept behind a red door. Still haunted by memories of her late husband who curated the collection, shop owner Clara Martelli can’t bring herself to step through that red door–until cultural anthopology Professor Nick Papadopoulos visits Book Nirvana in search of materials for his new book. In this scene, Nick tempts Clara to take a break in the coffee shop next door, where they look over his recent purchase, a book of shunga–Japanese erotic art.

“Let’s sit over here by the fireplace.” Nick pulled up a chair for Clara and slid another close beside her. He took a bite of his scone, then carefully wiped his fingertips before opening the book he’d bought. The endpaper inside was swirled with cloud-like designs in delicate blues and grays. When he turned the page, Clara’s eyes widened, and her breath caught.

A Japanese courtier, his silk kimono open, presented a kneeling geisha with his huge, engorged shaft, dark purple and ridged with bulging veins.

Clara’s fingers clenched her scone, crushing it to smithereens.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She dropped the mess onto her plate and then brushed the crumbs from the page, which sent them tumbling onto Nick’s lap. She reached for his leg, realized what she was doing, and snatched her hand back, mortified.

Her fingers flew to her glowing cheeks—probably just as flushed as that enormous painted penis.

“Here, let me get you another scone.” Nick rose and moved to the counter.

While his attention was diverted, Clara reached out a trembling hand to flip the page, then gulped. The two- page spread displayed an orgy scene: an elaborately- coiffed woman astride the huge cock of an elegant, balding man who reached out to diddle another woman between her wide-spread thighs. Surrounding them were six more women, each rubbing a companion’s foot against her own clitoris, all of them entwined in an intricate human knot.

Clara and Jared were adventurous lovers, but this was beyond anything they’d tried, or even imagined. She turned the book sideways and peered closer at the drawing. Something touched her shoulder and, startled, she squeaked like a little girl and slammed the book shut.

Beside her stood Nick, the smutty professor, holding a plate with two scones. Was that a blush coloring his chiseled cheeks? With his deep olive complexion, it was hard to tell. She lowered her gaze and found herself looking right at his crotch.

Damn it!

With no safe place to direct her gaze, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Sorry, Clara. Beautiful women bring out my devilish side. Please forgive me.” He slid a new scone onto her empty plate, then sat beside her. “I guess Shunga isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.”

“Shunga?”

Nick nodded. “This type of painting or woodblock print. There’s usually a funny text to go with it.” He balanced the book between them, resting on the arms of their two chairs, then glanced at her, an eyebrow raised. Okay, Clara, time to put on your big girl panties.

You can handle this.

She nodded.

Nick flipped to a new page. “The beautiful costumes and hair arrangements date from the Edo era, roughly the 1600s through the mid-1800s. And here’s the text.” He pointed to columns of delicate Oriental writing.

“Can you read it?”

“Not very well. I have a friend here at the university who can help with the translations. This really is an extraordinary book.” He sipped his coffee and flipped the page.

“Are their, um, private parts always so large?”

He shot her another devilish grin. “Always. You know, it’s funny. In European artwork, male genitals

are often unusually small, compared to…” He glanced down at his own lap. She followed his gaze, then jerked her eyes away. Her voice creaked like a twelve-year-old boy’s. “Yes, I’ve—uh—I’ve noticed.”

Get your copy of Through the Red Door here: https://books2read.com/u/bxnz0P

And be sure to visit the blog hop for more steamy snippets! https://mfrwsteam.blogspot.com/