Friday=Smutday

Yes, Smutday. Now, normally Friday would be a joyous occasion but today it is a doubly joyous occasion as it is a HOLIDAY. Yes, I am in my PJs right now, drinking my coffee, hair unwashed, teeth unbrushed, birds chirping outside, schedule open as the wide seas. It is a beautiful thing!

However, the typical Friday is paperwork day and in leiu of an afternoon coffee, I'm just going to put up whatever filth I can find.

Don't you love reading an otherwise innocuous book and stumbling upon a passage that is deliciously filthy? Not that you can breathe life into a book just by making the characters get physical but if you're me, it makes you respect the author a bit more. Why yes, I tend to think, you too are a living, breathing person!

Today I am going to go with an oldie but goodie. Diana Gabaldon, thank you for enriching my virginal high school mind with so many delights!


First, I need to express my concern over the Outlander series which is totally getting Anne Rice-ish on me, minus the conversion to Christianity. I couldn't even finish A Breath of Snow and Ashes. The paperback was 1200 pages, for God's sake, and the plot meandered hopelessly. Outlander, the first book, was perfect, everything after it just started to feel bloated.


Anywhoo, this treasure is from the first book, Outlander. If you want more back story and some on-point analysis of what makes these books the crack cocaine they are, scary word count or no, refer to this Salon article.

If it must be sometime, it might as well be now, I thought, and deliberately ran my hands up the length of his thighs, hard and lean under his kilt. Though by this time I knew perfectly well what most Scotsmen wore beneath their kilts - nothing - it was still something of a shock to find only Jamie...

...He pressed me firmly to him, and I could feel that he was more than ready to get on with the business at hand. With some surprise, I realized that I was ready too. In fact, whether it was the result of the late hour, the wine, his own attractiveness, or simple deprivation, I wanted him quite badly...

...He drew back slightly, cupping my breasts and rubbing my nipples as I had done his. I fumbled with the buckle that held his kilt; his fingers guided mine and the clasp sprang free.

Suddenly he lifted me in his arms and sat down on the bed, holding me on his lap. He spoke a little hoarsely.

"Tell me if I'm too rough, or tell me to stop altogether, if ye wish. Anytime until we are joined; I dinna think I can stop after that."

In answer, I put my hands behind his neck and pulled him down on top of me. I guided him to the slippery cleft between my legs.


"Holy God," said James Fraser, who never took the name of his Lord in vain.


"Don't stop now," I said.

Thanks to sweetophelia18 at deviantART for Jamie and Clare Outlander at the top of this post.

1 comment:

karen said...

god, i love those books. oh, jamie fraser, giving us modern women totally false expectations. i am addicted to them like the crack they are, too.

- karen

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