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Naked Revelations

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Naked Revelations by Lizbeth Dusseau

In this astounding novel, Lizbeth candidly explores the nature of sexual obsession and dominance/submissive in adventures she has witnessed or taken herself. In the world of her heroine, Kate, there are hundreds of desires to please the body and mind. If Kate could try them all, she might find the sexual peace she craves. To live out every one would prove overwhelming; but to choose them carefully, bringing about those faught with the most tawdry possibilities becomes her quest.

Naked Revelations is for a reader who's not timid, for one that understands the bizarre curves and avenues in the human sexual psyche, and likes to voyeur those absurdities plainly told. Drawn from Lizbeth Dusseau's personal experiences with desire, the reader is left to wonder what is real and what is just another excursion into fantasy - if this is fantasy at all? These episodes in debauchery will titillate those who enjoy the crudest sexual fantasies, they will frighten others, and no doubt play with the sexuality provoked mind long after the book has ended.

Includes: dominance, submission, female bisexuality, exhibitionism and anal sexuality


She was cool in bed that night. He was hot. She felt the touch of his hands, and tried to let them arouse her, though she rarely was by just this mundane sexual expression. Sometimes she wondered if her body didn’t work right, not responding to this natural means of arousal. She reached for his cock and played with it as she whispered in his ear.
“You know what I’m going to do?” she purred, her voice dropping an octave as she spoke.
“What’s that?” he asked.
His eyes were open, hers were closed. She was spinning a fantasy straight from her imagination, always a good thing for his arousal.
“I’m going to put on that little black skirt, the one with the two inch slit up the back, that barely covers my ass end, and doesn’t cover it all when I bend over...”
“And...” he urged her on.
“I’ll put on my see-through blouse, no bra at all...or maybe you’d like the black bra under the sheer white?”
“I’d like that,” he said, thinking of the black lace under the filmy white silk. His cock was growing in her hands.
“I’m gonna dress real sexy in tall high heels,” she went on, “and I’m gonna wiggle my ass for the guys in the bar. See who I can turn on.”
“God, I’d like that,” he murmured in her ear, her thoughts had become his thoughts, her thoughts making his erection bigger still, so he pulled her close to him and pressed the head into her cunt.
“I’m gonna wiggle my fanny for them, and when I bend over they’ll see everything. You like that don’t you?” There was a hiss in her voice, a provocative, nasty, slut kind of hiss. And she wiggled against his groin just as she would wiggle her fanny for a crowd of men.
“Yes, I’d like that,” he replied, almost too out of his mind to answer at all. They were powerful words she spoke, provoking a powerful response. He loved them as she whispered them over and over again, until she felt the surge of a sexual rush take over; and then, being quiet, she let the explosion have him. When he was close to a climax, she answered his mounting need, moving hard against him, squeezing with her inner muscles for maximum effect. Wild, very wild, her gyrations made him move more briskly still. Holding her tightly he muffled the sound of his exuberance, allowing just a small groan of agony to leave his lips as he buried his cock deep inside her and let the potent thing shoot. She squeezed harder yet, the milking sensation one of the best, one he could hardly stand, so intense that he finally pulled from her, dripping a little cum on her thigh.
She lay back on the bed beside him while he caught his breath, her hand going immediately for her pussy. Her fingers played efficiently between the two plump outer labia. She’d perfected a method that would bring her orgasm swiftly. He stroked her thighs, moved to her breasts where he tweaked her hard nipples, and then massaged her belly where it seemed there was always a wild passion stored. He watched her placid face, wondering what lay inside her pretty blonde head as she brought herself to a climax.

I’m in a bar where there’s a light show and dancers and lots of smoke so that it’s difficult to see. The feeling is erotic, the mood provoking sexual thoughts from the moment I enter. The dancer before my eyes intrigues me, the way she moves like a lady lioness, like a sultry bird, like the smoky vapors themselves that wind their way about the mindless shadows that watch her work. When she bares her breasts, I wish they were mine. I can feel the thrill of letting the exposure make me hot between my legs. Her breasts jiggle, swaying softly back and forth against her naked torso, looking as if they are reaching out to an appreciative audience.
Her fingers at her waist lift the tiny waistband of her panties, and slowly, a millimeter at a time they descend from her thighs until it’s just the wisp at her crotch remaining, between her last shred of decency and full exposure. A collective sigh goes around the prickly heated room when the cloth recedes and provides a glimpse of the randy girl’s shaved cunt. Her two lips look innocent enough, though they’re wet with pre-cum dew.
The beckoning dance continues and the sultry movements go on, until the sweet seductress rests her eyes on me, and with a breathless whisper, invites me to the stage.

Kate’s hands followed the path they knew so well, as her mind led her through the fantasy, and Sam toyed outside her mind with her gently moving body. Patience, it took patience for them both to complete the orgasmic ritual. After the little ripple moved through her body, and a soft gasp issued from her mouth, she opened her eyes and smiled. Sex was over for the night, and they both relaxed.

“Where are you when you’re getting off?” Sam asked her while she washed her hands in the bathroom. He was peeing beside her.
“Where, when?” Kate asked back.
“You know, during sex. What do you think about?”
“Oh, the kind of the things I talk to you about. I just keep going in my head with them.” Her response was brief, informing him of very little. How strange to have just had sex and yet feel this lonely gulf between them. There was no bridge to her thoughts save the few pieces she offered him as compensation for his efforts to please her. But he knew his painstaking attention to her body did little to take her to a sexual climax, her body responded so little to his physical touch. Kate did all the orgasmic work herself, in her mind. He was just there. Occasionally, she opened her eyes to draw him in, but that seemed more out of kindness to him than to derive more physical charge. Most of the time she was too far into herself for him to even call the sex act “making love”.

Artist Credit

Zoey B

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