Friday, November 6, 2015

A Sexy Sample from Chapter 7 of "The Higher Learning Curve."

As soon as Priscilla turned her key and walked inside of her home, she was greeted by the overwhelming aroma of one of her husband’s expensive Cohiba Espendido cigars. She shut the front door behind her and slipped out of the shoes that had been squeezing her feet, eager to sink her sore toes into the soothingly soft fibers of the plush, beige carpet that covered the entire expanse of her spacious living room.
     “Hey Sweet P,” Charles greeted her from where he lay on the sofa with his feet up. He was a tall man so his legs extended over the arm of the sofa and hung over the edge. The wispy cloud of smoke he had just exhaled floated above his face and rose towards the ceiling.
     Priscilla hated when he smoked inside the house but she smiled and chose not to make a fuss about it, especially not after he had just affectionately called her “Sweet P.” She loved that. Most of the people who had ever heard him call her that naturally assumed that it was an innocent term of endearment, a nickname derived from the P in Priscilla but, the naughty inside joke between them was that Charles was really referring to a particularly sexually explicit word that also started with the letter P. In intimate moments, while delivering the type of slow strokes that only a man in love sensuously sinks deeply inside of his woman, he would whisper in her ear how much he loved her “sweet pussy.” That type of dirty talk always excited her.
     “Hey Grizzly Bear,” she answered as she walked barefoot over to where he lay on the couch and climbed on top of her husband.
     At first she straddled him before she laid out flat on top of his body as if he was a comfortable mattress and used his chest as a pillow. Charles stretched his arm across to the mahogany coffee table to ash his cigar in the glass ashtray that sat on top of the expensive wood. He abandoned the Cohiba to smolder on its own like a stick of incense. Once both of his hands were free, he wrapped his arms around his wife and held her tightly. He loved to feel her soft, supple body pressed against him. Priscilla’s natural, fluffy, frizzy curls felt like cotton and tickled his chin. Charles inhaled deeply, relishing the way her hair smelled, sweetly scented by the oils she used to maintain its healthy sheen. He used his giant-sized hand to part her wild mane so that he could kiss her softly on the forehead.
     “You’re late,” he told her. “I thought today was supposed to be the day when you are done with all of your lectures by midday?” Charles asked as Priscilla frowned because of the smell of the cigar still heavy on his breath.
     “Yeah, today was my early day. I’m sorry I got in so late,” she apologized sincerely.
     “With all of this rain, I was worried about you. I know how much you hate to drive in it. I couldn’t stop thinking that you might have had some terrible car accident. I was afraid that you had skid off the road somewhere.”
     “Aww, you were worried about me? You’re such a good husband.”
    “Of course I was worried about you. What would I do without you, the love of my life and the most amazing woman I’ve ever known?” he asked playfully.
    “You’re sweet to say that but, I know exactly what you’d do if I was tragically torn from your life,” she chuckled.
    “What exactly do you think I would do if I lost you?” he asked before pressing his lips to hers.    “How could I possibly manage without you?”
     “You’d just find a younger, prettier, curvier version of me,” she answered.
     “And where in the world would I find another woman with ALL of those wonderful attributes?”
     “Oh please. Don’t pretend that you don’t see girls like that walking all over the campus all day… every day. It’s literally a buffet of sexy coeds. I’m sure you’ll be able to charm any one of them out of their panties,” Priscilla told him sarcastically.
     Charles would have kept the light humor going if he had been completely sure whether or not his wife was really joking. In the past, on more than one occasion, he had been caught being disrespectfully and blatantly unfaithful. Steamy flings and inappropriate entanglements with a few of his female students at the college where they both worked had violated the sanctity of their marriage. Priscilla claimed to have forgiven him and Charles believed that, at least in her heart, she had really tried to let go of all the pain and embarrassment he had caused her but, he also know that her soul still ached because of the things he had done.
    “I cooked dinner,” he told her, quickly changing the subject before their pleasant, flirtatious conversation had a chance to take an ugly turn.
     “Really? I can’t smell anything with all of the nasty cigar smoke in the house,” she frowned while crinkling her nose.
     “I made your favorite,” he added, then watched her eyes light up as her frown flipped and turned into a wide smile.
     “Steak?” she asked anxiously and excited as her mouth began to water.
    “There’s a juicy cut of London broil, stewed with fresh veggies, smothered in delicious, savory gravy, just the way you like it,” he answered, continuing to tease her taste buds with his vivid description of the meal he had painstakingly prepared for her.
     “Mmmm, I’m starving. Let’s eat,” she said.

With full stomachs from a delicious dinner and lightheaded from the half bottle of wine they had just finished together, Charles and Priscilla soaked in the bathtub together by candlelight. The warm water and the suds from the bubble bath soothed their skin as Charles washed Priscilla’s back with the soft sponge. When he was finished, she leaned back and rest against his chest. The aroma from the lavender candles was relaxing and helped to put them both in an even more mellow mode than the wine had.
“There’s something I meant to ask you earlier,” Charles leaned forward and whispered in Priscilla’s ear.
“And what’s that?” she asked.
“You never explained why you were so late getting home today, or where you were for all that time,” he said.
“Are you worried…think I was somewhere I shouldn’t have been…doing something I shouldn’t have been doing?” she asked as she felt his fingers firmly on her nipples after he reached around to fondle her breasts.
“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just thought that it was strange that you didn’t tell me what happened or where you were exactly after I told you how worried I was,” he answered before he leaned forward to gently bite her earlobe.
“Sure sounds like you’re suspicious. What’s the matter? You don’t trust me?” she asked, gently moving his hand away from her breasts so that she could bring his fingers to her lips. First, she sucked on his thumb suggestively, and then his pointer finger before finally taking both his pointer and middle finger in her mouth at the same time. Slowly, she continued to suck on them until she felt him getting hard behind her.
“Of course I trust you,” he answered.
“Really?” she mumbled with her mouth full.
“Ouch!” Charles complained as Priscilla bit down on his fingers, hard enough for it to hurt but not viciously enough to break the skin. “Why’d you do that?” he asked.
Priscilla stood up in the bathtub and turned around to face him in all of her magnificent, naked glory. She put her hands on her hips and let him watch the water drip down her smooth skin, like many tiny streams. She stood in front of him like a goddess to be revered and she didn’t need to see through the foamy, bubblebath suds, or below the bathwater to know how aroused he was. She had been married to him long enough to feel from a distance how filled with lust he was and knew how to read the burning desire written all over his face. She watched his eyes explore every inch of her body and she read every dirty thought in his head.
Like a pagan, Charles worshiped the magnificent woman in front of him as if she was the sun. He resisted the urge to reach out, grab her and pull her close so that he could taste the sweetness between her thighs. Only the stern expression on her face kept him at bay but he was so excited that he was almost tempted to beg. When Priscilla saw him lean forward to kiss her down low, she firmly planted her palm on his forehand to stop him.
“I was late today because I gave one of my students a ride home and before you ask, yes, he is very handsome. And no, I didn’t fuck him because I know that’s the next question that’s going to pop into your head. I stayed at his place until the rain eased up, chatting with him and his girlfriend. It was innocent,” she explained.
“So, if his girlfriend wasn’t there?” Charles asked, trying not to seem nervous or concerned but the question itself betrayed him.
Priscilla smiled wickedly, held her husband’s chin firmly and forced him to look up at her. “My love, the day that I pay you back for the things you’ve done, when I do finally decide to give you a healthy taste of your own medicine, I’m not going to sneak around behind your back. Trust me, you’re going to KNOW when we’re even,” she told him before she kissed her passionately.
Their tongues touched in a familiar dance as Priscilla aggressively grabbed the back of her husband’s head so he couldn’t move back or pull away from her.
Charles was completely breathless when she finally let him go. His heart pounded with the heavy thud of a marching band base drum as Pricilla stepped out of the bathtub and walked over to the rack where the clean towels were neatly hung. Lightheaded because of all the blood that had rushed from his head down to his lower region, he watched her wrap the pristine white towel around her dripping wet body. It was barely big enough to cover her nakedness and although he had just seen all of her, the tease of what the towel left unseen drove him wild. She looked back at him over her shoulder before she walked out of the master bathroom and he immediately picked up on the subtle, seductive invitation to follow her.

Charles slowly entered the bedroom and quietly walked up behind Priscilla where she stood at the foot of the bed, still barely covered by her towel. She was staring at a gift wrapped package that sat in the middle of their king-sized bed.
“What’s this?” she asked when she felt him press the rock hard stiffness that was only covered by the towel wrapped around his waist, right up against her soft behind.
“Just something I picked up in the city before I came home. I thought you might like it,” he answered before you planted a few soft kisses on the side of her neck, close to her collarbone.
“What’s the special occasion?” she asked as she went to look at her present, excited but also very suspicious.
Charles’ eyes were drawn to the plump, clean-shaven lips between her legs that were exposed when the fluffy white towel rolled up as she climbed onto the bed. From behind, they were just as pretty and enticing as they were from the front.
“No special occasion. I just felt like doing something nice to surprise you,” he answered as Priscilla opened the small, flat box which was about the size of a thin novel.
“This is beautiful…and very expensive,” she gasped as she took out the beige, cashmere and silk Chanel scarf out of the box and held it against her cheek to feel just how soft it was. “Okay, what bad news are you about to spring on me? What’ve you done?” she asked as she looked back over her shoulder at him, suddenly becoming very serious.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. I swear,” Charles said, quickly raising both his hands as if the police had guns pointed at him. “Well, not really,” continued.
“Not really huh? What’d you do that is SO bad that you felt that you had to buy me an expensive scarf?” she pressed him for answers.
“Well, I felt a little guilty about being so rough the other night. I saw the bruises on your wrists from where I tied your hands. I’m still not exactly sure what got into me. I shouldn’t have been that rough,” he explained and almost sounded ashamed.
Priscilla had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud as Charles lowered his eyes and looked away from her as if he was a child who was expecting a hard spanking. She was tempted to order him to get a belt so she could do just that but, she wasn’t sure if either one of them would enjoy it. That was one of the few things sexually that they had never tried. She stared at the front of this towel and noticed that the huge bulge that she had felt before when he had walked up behind her was still there which made her grin with mischief on her mind.
“Drop that towel and get over here,” she told him.
Charles did exactly as she commanded without hesitation. He let the towel that had been wrapped around his waist fall to the bedroom floor as he watched his wife discard hers. As he climbed up on the mattress behind her, she handed him the expensive Chanel scarf before she kneeled down and bent over to lay her face down on the plush pillow in front of her. Charles stared at the amazing roundness of her plus-size backside and the narrowness of her slim waist as she put both her hands together behind her back.
“Tie my hands with it,” she told him and once again, without a moment’s hesitation, he obliged her.

Copyright © 2015 Keith Kareem Williams
All rights reserved.

I hope you enjoyed this sample from Chapter 7 of “The Higher Learning Curve” which is scheduled to be released November 27, 2015. (I promise you that what happens NEXT in this scene is scorching and absolutely XXX.)

I’ve made autographed paperbacks available for pre-order for those who want to make sure that their autographed copies are reserved. Here is the secure Paypal link to pre-order your copy in advance:
(IMPORTANT: There is a different link for international orders outside of the United States. Email for International Orders.)

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Pre-Order "The Higher Learning Curve" by Keith Kareem Williams

I’m a man of my word so, as promised, I’ve set up the Paypal purchase link for those who’ve asked about pre-ordering their autographed copies of “The Higher Learning Curve.” I want to thank all of my loyal readers for being my biggest cheerleaders and for supporting everything I do. You guys may be fans of my work but we’ve become a family and I’m grateful for each and every one of you. I appreciate the impatience and the pressure that you put on me to get these books finished. It keeps me motivated which is an important thing for a natural-born procrastinator. I’ve written love scenes in most of my other novels but this is the first fully erotic novel that I will be releasing. It’s also the first book of my “Reem After Dark Presents” series of erotic novels, so there’s also THOSE future releases to look forward to. If all things go as planned, you will be seeing the next storyline of the series sometime in February… close to Valentine’s Day of course because, what better time is there to release a steamy, sexy, sensual book?

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Her Rhythm, My Blues

Her Rhythm, My Blues

Your rhythm is the perfect match for my blues because everything we have going on feels like a soulful slow song. For as long as I can remember, melancholy seems to be my natural state of mind most times but you’re the only one who can change that with a smile. You don’t press me or stress me to be different from what I am. You accept it without question but only because you understand why I am the way I am. There’s nothing about you that doesn’t seem perfect to me because all I see is that you’re exactly the way you’re supposed to be. And when I say that you’re perfect, I’m not trying to apply pressure for you to try to be without flaws. I just mean that the only imperfections I’m interested in are all yours.

Sometimes I’m quiet but it’s never a problem between us because we don’t need to hear each other’s voices to speak. A whole day can go by where we only communicate with body language. You read me like the words, sentences, paragraphs and chapters from one of my books. Even there, you see me on those pages clearer than anyone else can. You know how to let me know exactly what you need, exactly when you need it. Even when we’re apart, you’re still right here. I can feel it. We both know how to keep our business to ourselves and although the world always wants more and more pieces of me, there will always be things that I will only share with you.

The past is the past and neither one of us is looking back at anywhere we’ve been or at anyone that we’ve been with. They’re just going to have to hate because we let it all go and simply admit that they were all beautiful mistakes. Your heart has been hurt so much but you trust me to stop the bleeding. I swear to hold you down because, besides myself, you gave me something real to believe in. Your rhythm is the only one I want to vibe to as I lose all of my blues deep inside you.

Creative Upper Class Writer's Group - Coming Soon

Creative Upper Class
Writer’s Group
(New York)

I’ve often said that “Writing is a solitary activity,” and that authors spend many hours alone penning our thoughts or contemplating what we should write about. Sometimes we have more intimate relationships with our pens, notebooks, journals and keyboards than we do with our spouses and lovers. Our minds are often somewhere far off, far removed from where it’s supposed to be according to the people closest to us. That’s just our nature. We can’t help it. We’re always searching for deeper truths on different levels in the seemingly mundane things that regular people ignore, or take for granted. It can be frustrating trying to be understood by folks who aren’t writers that want our undivided attention. For years, I’ve yearned for that feeling I had when I used to take Fiction workshops in college. It gave me the opportunity to be around other people who were, for the most part, as passionate as I am about the written word. I admit that I’m starting this writer’s group partly for selfish reasons. I want to be in an environment where my peers will keep me sharp, motivated and inspired. However, I also want to nurture novice novelists so that they can see their dreams come to fruition. I wish that I had that kind of support system in place when I was writing chapter after chapter in the wee hours of the morning when most of the world was asleep. That’s why I’m seeking a healthy mix of veterans and aspiring authors to participate in the group.

I want every member to be pushed in order to reach their highest potential. That can only happen if we’re 100% honest with our critiques when we share our works-in-progress. This will not be a place for the thin-skinned who struggle with accepting fair and honest criticism. There should be a standard of excellence that we demand of each other. Also, we should be sharing experiences, information and resources so that we all shine. In the beginning, I’m keeping the group local here in New York but the plan is to expand, online and eventually to other states as well. Once things are running smoothly here, I’ll make sure to spread to roots of this to as many places as I can.

Since I’ve made the announcement about what I’m trying to accomplish, I’ve received inquiries from new authors and some old pros too which is great. You can trust and believe that I am going to build something special. For a long time, it has been a dream of mine to do this and I’m determined to make it happen, sooner rather than later. Over the holiday season I’m going to spend a lot of time planning and getting things organized. Stay tuned.

Much love to everyone that has reached out to me and shown interest in being a part of this.