Sin, Sex & Satire

For at least some of you who have read many of my pieces, you know I enjoy mixing comedy along with my sexy sin. I like to give you a taste of a little fun with my selections. What do I mean by fun? Well, you can’t tell me that every romantic moment you’ve had has gone entirely smoothly. No matter how hard you try at times, things just kinda get in the way of that HOT romance. Whether you plan an black man stunning full face
outdoor picnic and a raging thunderstorm happens out of the blue or the absolutely stunning outfit you purchased and planned to wear was destroyed by a horrendous mishap. We’ve all had these mini tragedies happen a few times. Romance isn’t always about good planning. The sexy scenario is also about going with the flow. I don’t know about you, but I like my moments of passion with an element of surprise.

I’ve found that the majority of readers also like when characters are flawed a bit and that doesn’t mean they have to always have a tragic past. We all have worries and frustrations when it comes to members of the opposite sex. Since we were kids in high school, we’ve worried and frustrated over what we looked like to the way our hair was behaving or NOT behaving. Guys do it too so no chuckling here. We long for the other person to find us attractive and when we’re worried or unsure, often times we do something a bit out of character, even bordering on stupid. The silliest mistakes can happen and when you capture those in the pages of a romance, erotic or otherwise, even the slightest faux paus are exaggerated. And readers love it.

You’ve heard that with any great comedy on television or in the movies, the element of comedic action and how the scene is presented is the key as to whether we think it’s funny or not. Some actors simply have the gift of being funny without trying. Others try too hard and the story line gets far too campy. As authors we’re trying to mix this somewhere just in between.

My heroines usually have a mouth. They’re ballsy and brassy, willful and completely disobedient. They’re the kind of women men simply want to put over their knees and give a hard spanking to. I love having them push and pull, batting their eyelashes as they’re planning their next conniving event. For the men, they act as if they’re all in the know, controlling the situation when voila, they’re just as anxious as the women are, curious as to whether they’re going to be liked or even laughed at. And you know what? It doesn’t matter what age we are or social standing, intelligence level of amount of education. We’re human and long to be liked. That’s where the satire comes in.

I penned a piece just about three years ago now that I think mixes a touch of true comedy in with nothing but pure sex and sin. I took the premise where we all have trouble approaching a member of the opposite sex, especially if we don’t know then very well. We fantasize and pant, crave and use toys in the middle of the night with their face and body firmly planted in the forefront of our minds, but can’t manage to tell him or her what we’re thinking. What if you happened on that single moment of courage, the one where you simply had to tell him you wanted him so badly you’d do just about anything sinful? And what if that man was none other than your delivery driver for one particular service, the one who brought you salacious and oh-so delectable treats to be tested as tools of your trade? Of course these treats come in plain brown wrapping with no identifiable marks, enabling you complete privacy as you use the whirling vibrators and steel nipple clamps are you leisure. You are an erotic writer after all and the UPS man is tall, a drink of chocolate milk and nearly perfect. While sex toys certainly help with learning more about your craft, there’s nothing like experimenting with the real thing. Now is there?

Hmm… Such a sexy little premise, eh? Treats in a Plain Brown Wrapper was born and you bet it’s based on my real life UPS man. Al – his real name – is sweet and sexy and I could oh so do him in a heartbeat. Yep, I admitted it. Life is better than art every once in a while. This piece was a little sleeper and in honor of my upcoming 100th book release, my publisher and I thought a re-release with a sexy new cover AND bonus material might be a sassy temptation for everyone. I hope you enjoy and remember, the best treats come in very tall packages.



It was fascinating how everything yummy seemed to come in plain brown wrapping. Indistinguishable. Just like the naughty little toys Trista Rogers ordered for research to enhance the writing of her erotic books. Treats almost always delivered by her fantasy lover in chocolate brown – the UPS man. The dark cocoa hunk, Al Weatherby, had been black man with white shirton her hit list since he’d taken over her route several months before. The man filled more than one night of her raging fantasies. Sometimes she ordered from the Internet just to tease him with her long red hair, creamy skin and perfectly selected clothes. Sadly, she’d never tried anything with him. Until one blustery fall day. Asking Al inside for a frosty drink, the afternoon quickly turned passionate. As sparks flew they both knew they wanted more. Or did they?

After planning a sinfully delicious event, another driver appeared in Al’s place. Devastated, Trista had no idea what happened and she grew incensed, promising never to allow UPS to deliver again. Fortunately Trista quickly learned that the best surprises came in six foot something discrete brown boxes.

But Al had everything under control, including just how to handle the feisty woman. Complete with his own special basket of toys to help her with research, copious rounds of hot sex, a little voyeurism, and bodacious amounts of experimentation ensue.

Deliveries will never be the same again.


Pursing her lips she threw open the door and pretended to be surprised. “Oh Al, sorry. I was just going to check the mail.” Not that she didn’t meet him at the door in such a sly way every once in a while, but on this particular day, Trista decided to kick up the heat with her attire and she could tell he was at least intrigued. The bulge in his pants was a TIABPW_CoverNEW-smalldead give away.

“Ms. Rogers,” he said under his breath.

“Yes, Al? Did you bring me something delicious?”

“Well, perhaps.” Giving her a long once over he narrowed his eyes and then sighed.

Damn, if she couldn’t help but think about seeing the man naked. “Mmm… Good. I need some serious attention.”

“Attention, eh? I think you need many things.”

She fought a giggle and slipped her hand past the edge of her sweater, flicking her finger back and forth across her nipple and there was no doubt he noticed. Plucking the bud between her fingers she shifted back and forth from foot to foot and purred, simply imagining his cock in her mouth. Was it very hot in the room?

Al Weatherby stood speechless, the look on his face holding shock, desire and something else entirely.  His mouth gaped open and he glanced down the length of her, a tiny bubble forming between his lips.  Blinking furiously, the box tumbled out of his hand and bounced onto the deck.  Pop!  He choked and jerked the small bundle back to his chest as he shook his head. “I’m sorry. Not usually so clumsy.”

Trista felt like a juicy steak nestled on a silver platter. Her gaze fell to the bulge in his pants and she could easily tell his cock was pulsing against the thin material. There was no doubt he was burning hot and turned on as hell. She resisted the urge to reach out and slide her hand down his chest to cup his crotch. “Al, are you okay?”


She smiled slyly and placed her hand onto her hip. “How are you doing today, Al? Would you like to come in for a cold drink?” Or a wild little tryst between the sheets?  Down girl! Whew baby! Okay, so mixing business with pleasure was dangerous, but what the hell, she was a kinky girl, right? And she’d waited far too long for this man. How many times had she thought about asking him out? About a bazillion and then some. So why couldn’t she just do the dirty deed? Scaredy cat, that’s what you are! Shushing her inner vixen voice she huffed. Enough was enough. Trista wasn’t sure if he was dating anyone, but she had to try something.

Al shivered. “Um…that would be thoughtful. Whew, long day and lots of deliveries.”

“Come on in. Glad to be of service. I’m having a glass of wine. I know you’re still on duty but how about a cock…a Coke?” She stifled a giggle at her faux pas and grabbed a frosty can out of the fridge, every part of her body tingling, before turning toward him. Holy cow, he was barely able to keep her eyes off his crotch. “Glass?”

“Not necessary.” As he grabbed the slickened can, Al shifted his eyes slowly down from Trista’s face to the point where they just hovered over her breasts.  Glancing up, he licked his lips and took a long sip of soda, keeping his eyes locked on hers. Tilting his head he swallowed hard and then smiled. “Oh, here’s your package. Unfortunately it’s only part of the order.” As he set the brown parcel down on the large island he brushed the tip of his finger back and forth over the top, giving her a heated look.

My God, she was boiling over. She felt the sizzle of his gaze in direct correlation to her dripping pussy.  Her panties were already soaked and she was only sharing a drink with the man. “Oh pooh. Well, I guess you’ll be coming…back I mean.” Was she coming on to him? If her pointed nipples were any indication, she knew the answer and so would he.

He swallowed hard, coughing violently as his fingers bent the can and Coke spewed. Growling, he tried to catch the drops with the back of his hand. “So, um Trista? I never asked you, what do you do?”

“I’m a writer.”

“Excellent, what do you write?”

“Oh, I write saucy and highly kinky stories mostly for women.” Every time she told a man that she wrote erotic stories, they instantly hit on her thinking she could perform all the acts she wrote about. Granted, as she stood staring at Al’s handsome face and the way his chiseled high cheekbones accentuated his full ruby lips, she had a feeling she could be sweet talked into doing every one of the wild fantasies she wrote about with him. “Yeah, you bring me tools of my trade that I order for research.” Tools of the trade? He brought her kinky sex toys to use on a cold lonely night and she couldn’t wait to see his reaction. Would that give her an indication that he was as wild and wicked as she was?

Mmm – will deliveries ever be the same again?

Kisses   xxx



About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
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