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Choose your own erotic adventure

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Attention: The material on this page contains content of a suggestive nature and is not suitable for anyone under 18. If you're sensitive to this kind of content, then do turn away now.

Before we start, allow me to introduce you A Girl Walks into a Bar, the fabulous and hot new erotic read written by South African authors, Helen Moffett, Sarah Lotz and Paige Nick.

Now for those who don't know - and for those who haven't read this article, A Girls Walks into A Bar, takes this steamy genre to a whole new level by allowing the reader to have full control in deciding how the novel plays itself out.

The fabulous authors have written some wonderful scenarios, at the end of which, the reader gets to choose what happens next.

Now, here's where YOU come in. The fabulous publishers from Jonathan Ball have kindly allowed us to publish two extracts from the book.

But, we're not going to publish them both at the same time.

Instead, this is where the fun part comes in. Are you ready to play?

Here are the rules:

1. Read through this sexy extract.

2. At the end of the extract, we're going to give you two options. All you need to do is choose the one which most appeals to you and vote for it.

3. The option with the most votes is the extract we'll publish on Friday.

Right. Here we go:

You’ve decided to drink tequila with a rock star

Why not? It’s not like you’re going to settle down with this guy.

There’s no riding off into the sunset or white picket fence here – you see it for exactly what it is. If you play your cards right, this might be a happily-ever-after just for the night.

‘Here’s to Prince fucking William,’ says Charlie, clinking his shot glass against yours.

You do the shot, screwing up your face as the liquor fires through your mouth and down your throat, then you suck on the orange to offset the burn of the tequila. Charlie laughs at the face you pull as he slams his own empty glass down on the bar and sucks on his orange.

‘Ever do a body shot?’ he asks.

You shake your head, feeling a rush of heat as the tequila makes its way through your system. He moves a little closer. He somehow manages to exude sex from every pore – he even smells like sex, you think – sex and tequila.

He stretches out an arm and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You tingle at his touch, and you can barely take your eyes off his arm – you can almost feel the heat radiating from it.

‘The rules to doing a body shot are simple,’ he says, leaning towards you, and there’s that knowing grin again. You’re so close you could almost kiss him.

‘I hold the orange in my mouth and you can put the salt wherever you want on my body, right? Then you lick the salt off me, down the shot and bite the orange out of my mouth. Wanna do one?’

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nod. Your knickers are instantly wet at the thought of licking his body.

‘Another four tequilas please, mate,’ Charlie says to the barman, ‘and this time we’re going to need some salt.’

Four? What have you let yourself in for?

The barman pours out the shots and sets them in front of you. Charlie reaches for the salt shaker and hands it to you.

‘You go first,’ he says, a challenge in his eyes. ‘What part of my body do you want?’

You take your time looking him up and down, but this decision is an easy one: it has to be that taut, muscled drummer’s arm.

‘Give me your arm,’ you say. You’re impressed at how confident your voice sounds. You can feel your nipples hard and tight, brushing against the lace of your bra.

Charlie smiles his approval and reaches for a wedge of orange, clamping the skin between his perfect teeth, the flesh of the fruit sticking out, waiting for you. Then he holds his left arm out to you, the one without the writing on it.

You reach for his arm; his skin feels hot under your fingertips.

Holding his gaze, you pour a stripe of salt down his forearm. You drop your head and, without breaking eye contact, you lick the salt from his arm in a line, making your tongue as wide and flat as you can, so you can taste as much of his skin as possible.

Then you go back for a second lick, to make sure you didn’t miss a single grain of salt. He tastes really good, like musk and sweat.

His eyes are wide and his pupils dilate as he watches your tongue run over his arm.

Then you reach for the shot and down it, and he leans towards you so that you can bite into the orange clamped between his lips. You clutch the back of his neck with your hand, pulling him close. You can feel his mouth pressing against yours as you bite into the orange.

You let go of his arm, and he drops his huge hand on to your leg and squeezes it gently.

The tequila, his closeness, his hand on your thigh and the taste of him make your whole body quiver. You lean back a little, your mouth puckering at the tartness of the orange, chasing the power of the tequila.

‘My turn,’ Charlie says, staring into your eyes and licking his lips. You’re so wet, if he had to touch you right now, right there, you’d probably come in seconds.

‘I think I want your neck,’ he says slowly, still not taking his eyes off you. You gulp as he reaches out and pushes your hair away from your shoulder, brushing your neck with his fingers. ‘Right here,’ he says. Goosebumps explode all over your body. He leans even closer.

‘I’d better lick it first,’ he says, ‘just to make sure the salt sticks, you know?’

You nod, your skin aching for more of those strong, clever fingers. You lean your head sideways so he has as much access to your neck as possible.

With one hand steadying the other side of your neck, he runs his tongue from the dip of your collarbone all the way up the side of your neck, ending just below your ear. Then he pulls back and places the orange between your teeth, ready for his mouth.

He pours the salt in a line across the licked skin. Then he holds your arms gently at your sides and licks up the strip of salt, starting at the dip of your neck and shoulder once again and running his hot tongue upwards, lapping the salt off your skin. If he doesn’t stop soon, it’s completely possible you’re going to come just from the feel of his tongue on your neck.

‘I think I missed a spot,’ he mumbles into your ear.

He goes back down to the edge of your collarbone again, and then he takes small nibbling bites all the way back up your neck one more time. You think you might pass out from the sheer pleasure of it.

Satisfied that he’s licked you thoroughly, he shoots the tequila, then pulls you towards him again as he bites into the orange you’re holding in your mouth. He holds his mouth against yours, and you can taste the salt and the tequila on his lips.

Far too soon, he pulls away from you.

‘What do you say we go back to my hotel and find a few more interesting parts of our bodies to shoot tequila off?’ he says, slamming his empty shot glass down on the counter.

Time to choose ladies:  What will you do next?

This extract was published with permission from Jonathan Ball publishers.

Visit Kalahari.com to purchase a copy of A Girl Walks into a Bar.

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