The Razor Thin Edge


Serious Moonlight #2 drops on Friday. The Razor Thin Edge. A little domination, a little submission, a little meditation on choice, time, free will and the multiverse.

This is my favorite of the bunch. If you only read one, read this one.

Serious Moonlight shines today!

Serious Moonlight #1: Business CasualThe first book of the Serious Moonlight series, Business Casual, drops today for 99 cents.  Go buy your copy today!

Serious Moonlight #1: Business Casual on Amazon

Serious Moonlight is J G Cain’s smart and sexy flash erotica series. Expect a new story every Friday for the next year.  Hot, playful, subversive, humorous, kinky, sex-positive and literate: it’s all in the mix.

Business Casual finds our couple in a hotel room during a business conference.  Suggested dress is “business casual,” but after hours they make their own choices of attire.

from Business Casual

Another excerpt from Busines Casual, out this Friday as the first story in Serious Moonlight:

“He threw her down on the bed, ripped off her bra, fell between her legs and began to finger her, tearing at her legs as he did so, pulling the fishnet off by the fistful. It drove him into a fury, how the material stretched, refusing to rip, and then suddenly the weave would reach its limit. The pulling stopped, the tearing commenced, and the ripping sound hit his ears. It was like a hit from a pipe, a slug from a bottle.”

– from Business Casual, by J G Cain

from Open Door

She seemed so comfortable in her beauty. The woman grew momentarily wistful. When she was younger, when she was the girl’s age, she was as uneasy with her beauty as this girl was secure in her own, fearful of the blunt power of her gaze, unable to gauge the effect of her smile on a stranger. Only when she had gotten older had she been able to enjoy it, to control its authority, to appreciate her beauty for the gift that it genuinely was.

After the woman opened the door and wordlessly spread her arm to invite the girl in, they stood at the foot of the bed, facing each other as they had in the doorway.

“You are very beautiful,” said the woman.

“Thank you,” said the girl, serenely. “So are you.”

“Thank you,” she said. She had to fight the urge to steal a glance into the mirror.

The girl said, “I’ve seen you around the hotel. You and your friend.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t see a ring.”

“We aren’t married. We’re…he’s my boyfriend.”

“Yes,” said the girl evenly.

“Honestly, I don’t know what we are.” The pause that followed revealed more than the statement.

“I’m not going to fuck your boyfriend,” the girl said, unbidden.

The woman recoiled inwardly at the harshness of the statement. “I don’t want you to fuck my boyfriend,” she replied.

“No?”

“I don’t think my boyfriend wants you to fuck him.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Well, I mean, maybe he does, I don’t know, but he’s not going to.” She gathered herself.

“He thinks you’re attractive. You are attractive. He doesn’t know about this.”

“About what?”

“This. Me asking you up here. I don’t know. I’m not sure what this is. I’m not sure why I asked you.”

The girl smiled, and for the first time the woman felt some warmth escape from the glare of her beauty. The smile reached her, and touched her.

– from J G Cain’s Open Door

from Quicksilver

eyeThis look is the one that hangs in his mind. In these wee hours of the morning, for it is inevitably morning when they have finally spent themselves on each other, they lie side by side in the dark. He brushes back her hair with his fingers and contemplates her feline smile, her dimpled cheeks. She looks so pretty, afterward. Always. The transformation from her heavy-lidded hunger to quieted beauty leaves him breathless. Her eyes are stilled now, twin lakes of placid water on a cool, windless night. He strokes her hair, brushes her cheek with his thumb, whispers each passing submarine thought, diving into the fathomless quicksilver depth of her eyes.

– from Quicksilver, by J G Cain

Free Story!

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An excerpt:

Pearl, by J G Cain
Subscribe to the Serious Moonlight newsletter and recieve a free copy of J G Cain’s Pearl.

Before we met at the gala, I called and gave you very specific instructions on what to wear. You know what this means, when I want you to wear something very specific. You love what this means. You breathlessly memorize every detail. In my mind you are touching yourself, fingers sliding inside your panties as you listen to my voice, but I know this is not true. You work in a cubicle. You are surrounded by bored, nosy co-workers. They do not see you the way I see you. They do not know what we know. They do not live as we live.

I dress in the generic black tie uniform required of me and arrive fifteen minutes after I have instructed you to arrive. I spot you leaning against the far wall of the room as soon as I walk in the door. The effect is cinematic; everyone and everything else falls out of focus, leaving only you in the center of the frame.

You are wearing exactly what I have asked you to wear. The tight black dress I love so much hugs your body, plunging dangerously low to show off your small and flawless breasts (in bed I do not call them breasts, I call them tits, but we are at a party that requires decorum so I think of them as breasts; later in the evening they will be tits, your lovely tits). No one knows you are wearing thigh high stockings except you and I. You know how much of a fetish I have for your stockings. You know how it teases me for you to wear them. You are not wearing panties either. No one knows except you and I. You love so much to tease me, and I so love to be teased.

More importantly, you are wearing a long string of pearls, in two petite loops around your neck.

Remember the pearls.

 – from J G Cain’s Pearl