Book Extract: Flappers, Jazz and Valentino – Roaring Twenties Erotica

CoverimageFinalIs it not enough to lead my son into wild ways without teaching my daughter the tango?” – Dona Luisa, The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

Step back in time to a decade full of glamour, glitz and decadent sin with this collection of erotica set in the Roaring Twenties. With twelve stories, in all shades from romantic and sensual to burning hot, this collection is the perfect appetizer for a night out at the speakeasy. A journalist gets a sexy introduction to the sinful syncopation of jazz music. A three-way tango performance becomes the steamiest ticket in town. The owners of a speakeasy set up a very special audition for their new trumpet boy. All this jazz and more in Flappers, Jazz and Valentino, edited by Jillian Boyd.
Excerpt from Limelight and Gin by Sasha Distan

“Gentlemen… the tango.” Ruby walked to the centre of the stage and turned decisively on one heel. Apart from the pianist, and Wilbur at the bar, they were alone.

“There are three of us.” Naz arched an eyebrow. “How is that going to work?”

“Because I am a genius.” Ruby wiggled her hips happily. “By the time this number is over, every man and woman in the city is going to be jealous of me, or you two, or both. Mister Bruno’s gonna sell a lot of liquor one way or another.”

“I’m game.” Eugene smiled. “Where do you want us?”

Eugene spun her around and they took up a classic tango position, shoulders back and arms strong. At Ruby’s instruction, Naz came to stand behind her, his hand wrapped over her elbow and his other palm wrapped around both their clasped fingers. Eugene found his gaze was too easily distracted by Naz over the top of Ruby’s head, and their eyes met with a clang as the music started.

Eugene led, three bold steps across the boards, Ruby and Naz echoing the movements with strong clean lines before they all dipped their leading hands and shoulders, eyes flicking to the audience before snapping back. Then it was Eugene’s turn to be pushed back across the floor as the tension built, and when it came to the turn, Ruby spun out of his arms to be clasped by Naz, held tight against his body, his fingers caressing her face. Eugene turned away, but Ruby’s delicate fingers reached out to him, stroking the back of his neck, and he pulled her into a tight spin, settling her on his leg as he knelt, tipping her back. Ruby flashed him a smile, pointed her toe, her skirt riding up almost to her waist on her long silk-clad leg, and then danced away from them both, leading them on.

Suddenly Naz was behind him as he grasped Ruby’s waist and hand, and then it was the boys being led across the floor by their temptress as she flirted openly with them both. Every time the music built they traded lifts, twists, and turns, winding each other up, hiking up the tension. Every time they got close, it was really close, lips within inches of each other. Eugene couldn’t help but lock eyes with Naz and imagine it was the young Argentinian’s body he was holding pressed against his own.  Finally, as the music rose for its last crescendo, Ruby twisted between them, a hand on each of their chests, and pushed them both away across the floor, striding forward to stand proud and triumphant and alone at the front of the stage. The crowd would roar.

They were all three panting, sweaty, their chests heaving. Eugene couldn’t tell about Ruby, but one look at Naz and he knew the boy was as aroused as he was. When Naz walked across the stage and laid a hand on his shoulder, Eugene felt his pulse jump in a direct line from his heart to his crotch.

“There won’t be a dry seat in the house…” Ruby murmured to herself, staring out at where the audience would later sit, cheer, whoop and holler. Eugene figured there would probably be a lot of roses landing at her feet. “You boys go on ahead. I think three rehearsals are probably enough.” She seemed distracted by whatever scene was going on in her inner vision. “Go have fun.”

Naz flashed Eugene a smile as he walked across the stage towards the spiral staircase, and Eugene knew what a look like that meant. Taking Naz on a sort-of date had been fun, silly, and romantic, but now it was the middle of the afternoon and they were both hot, sweaty, and horny as hell. Eugene figured they had a few hours alone before any of the other dancers came in. They raced each other up the stairs, and Naz turned to grin at him as he walked along the passage to the changing room. Eugene couldn’t resist. He grabbed Naz, ran his fingers up the boy’s ribs, then pinned his arms and kissed him against the door. They scrambled for the handle and fell inside.

There was a rush to be rid of clothes: shoes, socks and slacks discarded in a messy array before shirt buttons went flying across the room. Eugene stripped Naz out of his shirt first, pushing his fingers through the young man’s super soft hair, kissing him hungrily. When they broke apart, Naz took a second to wedge a chair under the handle of the door. He turned to smile at Eugene.

“Holy moley you’re beautiful.” Naz blushed as he spoke, realising he was only dressed in his skimpy underwear. Eugene licked his lips, his eyes scanning the long, thick shape of the young man’s cock through the thin fabric.

“C’mere doll.” Eugene wrapped his strong fingers around Naz’s bicep as the young man stepped up to him and their next kiss was deeper, longer, but less hurried as they took the time to explore each other. Eugene caressed Naz’s firm jaw, then traced a line from collarbone to sternum, past his navel, and pressed fingers beneath Naz’s underwear to wrap around his burgeoning erection. The boy hissed in shock and pleasure and groaned into his ear. They got naked as they collapsed onto the big floor rug near the unlit fireplace, and Naz ended up on top and broke the kiss to sit up and straddle Eugene’s hips.

“Eugene…” Naz purred as Eugene ran his hands up his lover’s firm dancer’s torso. The boy leant down to kiss him, and they both moaned as the motion brought their erections into contact. Eugene wasted no time in wrapping his hand around them both, and groaned as Naz began to kiss and nibble at his neck.

They were both too excited for it to last, and Eugene came with a long groan, the vision of Naz atop him, tense and shaking and nearly whimpering in pleasure, biting his lower lip, long lashes dark as soot against his cheek, burnt into his inner vision. He fervently hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he would see the boy form that facial expression. Sated, sweaty, and sticky, Naz collapsed against him and rolled onto his side, making use of Eugene’s shoulder as a pillow.

“That was excellent.” Naz sounded rather thrilled with himself, and walked his free hand across Eugene’s chest before stopping to tickle him softly. “I think I rather like you.”

“How wonderful.” Eugene turned and buried his face in the boy’s exotically scented hair. “How is it you always smell so good?”

“Bubble gum.” Naz rolled over onto his front with a cheeky grin and reached for his discarded slacks. “You want some?

“I don’t think I’ve ever had it.” Eugene took the paper-wrapped stick carefully, hardly believing that he was being asked to try such an inauspicious thing as this new bubble gum post-coitus. There was something soft and special and playful about Naz, and that was certain. Eugene unwrapped the gum and folded the pink stripe onto his tongue. “It tastes like you.” Eugene chewed for a moment. “Weird sort of texture though.”

Naz shrugged and blew a large pink bubble.

“Will you come back to my apartment tonight?” Eugene curled an arm around his partner, stroking the delicate furrow of his spine, their bodies pressed alongside each other, sharing warmth and the rhythm of their still racing hearts. “Please say you will?”

“Yes.” Naz folded his arms on Eugene’s chest, removed his bubble gum and kissed Eugene softly. It was the sort of lazy, damp kiss that went on forever. Eugene’s head wasn’t spinning when their lips parted, but the edges of his vision were blurry and the same colour pink as the bubble gum. “And every other night too.”

“When do we have to be on stage?”

“Ummm…” Naz looked over to the chic new wall clock, letting his hand wander south to feel Eugene’s second wind rising. He grinned. “Oh, we got time.”

Jillian Boyd ( is an erotic short story author and sex and reationships blogger, based in London. Flappers, Jazz and Valentino is her first anthology as an editor – a love letter to her favourite time period, the Roaring Twenties. Buy it here.

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