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About the author:
Melanie Amaline is an erotica author with a penchant for the dark and mysterious. She prefers realism in her plots and surrealism in her settings and details. She is currently working on a novel set in 1940s America.
What inspired you to write your book?
I had recently gotten out of a bad marriage and the nature of that, the brutality toward one’s sexuality, inspired Shot in the Dark.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Shane’s second shoot took place in a makeshift motel room in one of the antique dressing rooms of the now-defunct Usley Theater. Jason had gathered up some cheap and tacky furniture and a polyester bedspread for the brass bed in the middle of the room. He dashed around the room, tilting lampshades and moving props. A woman named Melissa with thick black hair tapped her foot impatiently and read something on her phone. Shane pushed back a heavy curtain and found a brick wall.
Jason talked as he adjusted his set. “I’m doing two types. Grainy black and white, like an old tabloid, and blurry-ish pics on a phone. Not my phone, of course, a cheap one. I want a private eye, paparazzi look–catching deviant acts through the keyhole.”
He held up a window frame with a sheer curtain pinned to it. “I’m going to try to take a few through this. I have no idea if it’ll work. Hmm.” He tilted his head in momentary deep thought. “Maybe we can do this at an actual motel and I can peep in a real window. I just don’t see how I’d get the traffic lighting up the glass in here.”
He balanced the window against a box and resumed fiddling with the lights. Shane and Melissa watched him. Melissa looked as calm as Shane looked worried. He had an ache in his tooth and didn’t get enough coffee. With a sharp, “Well!” Jason clapped his hands and turned to them.
“Melissa, stand there. No, don’t take off your clothes. Kneel. I want it to look like a blow job. Take this,” he tossed her a neatly wound length of satiny rattail.
“You,” he pointed at Shane, “unzip and pull your pants down just a little. Melissa’s going to tie you up but not tight. I want to come in from behind you. Snap. Snap Snap.” He mimed taking a photo on a cardboard disposable, his instrument of choice. “Then come around and in. Snap Snap. To show the knots. It shouldn’t hurt.”
Melissa began winding the rattail around the base of Shane’s cock and balls in a figure-eight, then over the seam on his balls, up his cock like a ballet slipper, and around and around the lip of his head. It felt like being dressed. He didn’t have to daydream to keep his erection. Melissa finished with a slip knot and a tail, which she wrapped several times around her finger. She lifted the tail and Shane’s whole package with it, making him exhale audibly. She looked to Jason with a big, sweet porn-face and nodded. Jason came in, around, and down with his cameras. Shane failed to understand how a private eye or paparazzi would get a shot from a foot above the girl’s head.
“Everyone okay?” Jason asked. “Take a break and we’ll get ready for the next one.”
Shane and Melissa both lit cigarettes as Shane gently unwound the lacing. His cock was aching and his toothache forgotten. “Any idea what he has planned next?” Shane asked as he ashed in the diet Coke can Melissa proffered.
She shrugged. Every trace of the wide-eyed innocent was gone. “He usually doesn’t get harsh. He likes the image more than the act, if you know what I mean.” She had a New York accent. It didn’t quite sound native to her either. Her voice was deeper than seemed normal in her narrow throat and petite body.
Shane cracked his neck and looked around the room. Jason was adjusting lights again. Nothing about him ever slowed down and it made Shane wonder what he was on–or what he was off. Shane and Melissa butted their cigarettes with a sizzle in the can just as Jason returned to them. He had a loose razor in his hand. Shane backed up a little and Jason chuckled. “Relax, pretty boy. No blood. My broker wouldn’t allow it anyway. You two carefully hold this in your teeth. You’ll look like you’re kissing until I come in close. You just have to hold the pose. Try not to look too snarly, ‘kay?”
“Now!” he said when the kiss shots were finished. “I’ve saved the best for last. Have you ever fisted?” He looked at Shane.
Shane almost snorted. “My wife won’t even let me finger her, dude.”
“That’s what I thought. You look like a virgin.”
Shane blurted out a defensive, “What?” but Jason ignored him.
“Melissa, your hand? Show Shane how to fist and get yourself ready for him.” Jason held up Shane’s hand and examined it as he spoke–a young and privileged hand with a manicure.
Without protest, Melissa knelt on the bed. She lifted the cheap slip-on she was wearing to her waist and forced her fingers into her pussy. One, two, three, four. A pause. She rotated her hand. A look of deepest concentration came over her. She found her angle then pushed in her thumb and hand up to her wrist. She sat on her feet complacently, neither in pleasure nor pain. She looked bizarre, like a child sitting around with his finger up his nose, not picking it, in public. Shane was looking at her wet and hairless labia and her slim wrist stretching her pussy. It kept his body warm and dick hard, a condition in which nothing looks bizarre.
“Were you watching?” she asked. “It’s one.” She held up her index finger. “Two.” She held up the next. “Three…Four. Then you have to hunt around for a squeeze in.” She demonstrated by rotating her arm around inside herself. Shane inhaled loudly. “Work the thumb in.” She also demonstrated this but no one could see her thumb. “You’ll find a spot and then…” She drove her arm another inch into herself. “It goes in. I’ve taken big farmer hands with callouses. I’m not worried about you. Just listen to what I say.”
With a wet sucking noise, she pulled her hand back out of her pussy. It was slick with fluid. Jason parked himself on a low table with his disposable camera in one hand and a cell phone in the other. “Okay. Go.”
Melissa lay back on the bed and spread her legs. She left one leg down uncomfortably for the camera. Shane sat between her legs. When he looked up at her, a little question in his eyes, she gave him a thumbs up and laid her head back. He pushed two fingers into her pussy and began thrusting, as if they were a cock.
“Around,” she said and demonstrated. “Stir the pudding.”
He did as he was told and added in his other fingers incrementally. The snaps kept coming, no flash. It was slippery and hot. He stared at the pussy in front of him. The labia were stretched back and he could see its inner folds glistening. Her clit was a little nub north of a larger fold of pink skin. The vagina itself looked stretched to maximum and felt like it too. It was aching his hand a little as he spun and pushed it out, trying to get the mound of his thumb inside. “Melissa?” Jason asked.
“Almost,” she answered. “Shane. Lick my clit. Suck hard. It’ll loosen up.”
Shane bent over her crotch and grew dizzy with the fumes. She smelled like a lime tree. Her clit was jutting out and he gave it a long lick like she said. She lifted her hips a little and tapped on his right hand. Keep going in. He twisted and lifted and, in a flash, found the spot. He folded his hand into a fist as he pushed inside of her. “Head up, Shane,” Jason said. “Now, fuck.”
Shane did. Gently, at first then harder as Melissa moaned. “More,” she cried out and he gave more of his arm. Maybe it’s the practice, he thought as he lost sight of inches of his forearm. She rolled her head and said, lost in her feeling, “Slap it. Slap my clit.”
Shane looked to Jason who grinned and waved him to go ahead. With his left hand, he gave her whole vulva a short slap–not even enough to sting. “Harder,” Melissa said, almost angry.
Harder he did and she grimaced and moaned. He did it again as he thrust a few inches in and out of her. She lifted her hips and bucked them, taking Shane’s arm with her. Her pussy tightened and shivered as she hollered. Shane watched as if she were a show on the stage behind them. He barely registered his involvement in her furious come. He had never made a girl come before. He’d watched it but always thought it was put on for the camera. Actor though this woman was, there was something happening to her body that stopped Shane’s breath.
Melissa’s hips fell back onto the bed and made it squeal. Jason gently lowered the cameras and said, “Okay, guys. We’re done.”
Shane felt high and dazzled as they sat together in the ornate sitting room. Shane took some of the offered coffee. “You did good. Most men are afraid to hurt you. I like being hurt,” Melissa said and dragged on a long cigarette.
Shane couldn’t think of anything to say but, “Thanks.”