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Wednesday, November 18, 2009

This ain't your daddy's porn...

When Alison Tyler informed us that Violet Blue was going to be on Oprah, and that the Queen of Daytime TV was FINALLY going to do a show on erotica and pornography, I immediately set my PVR to record the show.

In my opinion, it's about time that pornography and erotica are brought to the forefront in society. For years, they've been taboo subjects, only brought up in back rooms and at poker games with the guys. Women whispered about it, sneaking stealthily into shops to gaze with envy and wonder at the women on the covers of the videotapes and DVD's, but never realizing what exactly it was all about.

I started with my dad's Playboys when I was younger. I gazed in awe at the gorgeous women with the perfect bodies and wondered if I was ever going to look like that. For the record, I also found the comics incredibly amusing - lol. But not once did I ever actually read the articles.

Then, when snooping in my great-grandmothers basement, I came across an erotic novel called My Sexy Sis. I snuck it out of the house and brought it home to read. It was my first foray into the written world of erotica. It was hot, it was steamy, and it brought me many self-induced orgasms. My older brother stole it and it made it's way around his friends and eventually, around his high school. I never did get it back for the record. LOL.

I've always been fascinated with sex. At school, in health and religion classes, they always tried telling us that it was meant for married people only, and we were supposed to wait until we were in love.

I did. My first actual sexual encounter was when I was 18 and with my first boyfriend. BUT, I would like to mention that it wasn't for lack of interest with other guys - it was lack of interest FROM other guys. When we were younger, it was all about appearances. And I wasn't the prettiest or the hottest girl in school - despite having huge tits. I also had bad frizzy hair and glasses. Even when I finally got contacts, my hips were proportionate to my breasts and even playing sports did nothing for my popularity with the guys.

But, I'd always been interested in sex. My cousin and I used to mastrubate together when we were kids, not thinking that anything was wrong with it. Our innocence allowed us to experience the joys of orgasms, without realizing that society was frowning on us. In retrospect, I think that it was probably those incidents that brought out my bi-sexuality. We would act out sex scenes with our Barbie and Ken dolls late at night during sleepovers. I'm sure she's forgotten all about them, but she was always the "good" one. LOL.

So, with my interest in sex being as deep rooted as it is, my husband being an avid viewer of porn, and being a huge fan of Violets, I couldn't wait to see what Oprah had planned.

It was very tastefully done. Jenna was a jewel, exposing not only her previous life, but her current life for millions of viewers, and giving some very good sound bites about the industry. I think the best advice she gave the masses was about boob jobs - DON'T DO IT. She exposed exactly how much work it is to be a porn star - the upkeep and maintenance of her body being a huge job, not just something that comes naturally. I mean, if the average woman finds it a pain to always be tanning and "landscaping" their bodies just to be attractive to their partners, can you imagine how much work it must be to remain attractive to millions of people who count on you to spice up their sex lives?

I love that they brought up erotica as a tool to empower women, in the bedroom, and realistically, it can empower them outside of the bedroom too. Imagine having the best sex ever with your man, after viewing one of the tastefully produced videos from Lori Moore AKA Sky Blue over at Playgirl, and then walking out in the real world to do a deal across the boardroom table. That confidence just oozes out your pores.

But as I'm watching, I'm reading the comments left by viewers and am totally amazed and partially disgusted by the attitudes that the viewers had. They argued that it wasn't empowerment to show the younger generation that taking your clothes off for millions of people can be the gateway to fame and fortune - it was simply an act of enslavement. I don't see how that is possible. If educated properly, the women making the active choice to participate in this life style are doing so for their own reasons, whether it's love of fame, love of money or love of sex. And if we keep porn and erotica and all that goes with it in the back rooms of seedy video stores, how can we possibly educate them at all?

Some bring up very good points about the psychological damage it can do to a relationship and a family, however, I think that had these people been introduced to the actual JOYS of sex instead of the taboo side of it - ie/ it's only for married couples in loving relationships - I honestly believe that attitudes would change. Again, EDUCATION.

And yes, some make the arguements of HIV and other STD's running rampant. But those in charge of the industry today are taking responsibility, setting up clinics, having on call doctors and ensuring that each performer gets checked regularly. Those test results, as shown on Oprah, must be provided at each and every shoot before a performer is allowed to participate. Yes, there are chances that something could have been picked up within the time between the test and the shoot, but it's like anything in life - you could step out your front door and get hit by a bus. In every day life, random things happen. It's just what life is.

One of the things I love about Alison Tyler, and the others who visit, comment, write and produce blogs books and videos for this "industry" as it were (myself included) is that we are taking back women's sexuality.

We are putting ourselves in charge of our bodies and the decisions of what we do with them. I've always been disgusted that men can sleep with as many women as they want to and be called a stud, but if a women does it, she's misguided and labelled a slut.

The fact that such narrow-minded attitudes STILL exist in todays world just goes to show that we're on the right track. We are re-educating the masses and we shouldn't stop.

Porn is an active part of society, and it's mainstreaming as we speak. So we have two choices - we can try and ignore it, forcing it into the back rooms and taboos once again, or we can bring it to the forefront, legitimize it and give the men and women the right tools to continue.

Because like it or not, sex is here, and it's here to stay.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

deliciously depraved....

I've been having the most deliciously naughty thoughts about you. The darkest, most erotic fantasies starring you. You with your fabulous body, and your charismatic smile. I love that you have fangs - it fulfills every fantasy I've ever had.

I can't remember the last time I was fucked by a hard body. Not that I'm complaining about my lovers - they, after all, have given me hours upon hours of pleasure, countless cosmic orgasms. I've come buckets of satisfaction over hard cocks, probing fingers, and delving tongues.

I've twisted my body around car bumpers, desperately matching lips while being thrust into from behind. I've wrapped my thighs around strong hips, while brick walls abraded my back, riding into oblivion while on a tequila high. I've contorted into positions I never thought I could for the simple pleasure of taking a hard on down my throat while my pussy's been licked clean by a third person.

Oh yes, my past has fulfilled many desires, many times.

But something about you brings out the darkness, the evil in me. Because I know, that for once in the longest time, this can't hurt me.

Emotions are nowhere to be found. I am riding waves of pure desire. It's all about lust. Your hard cock, my wet cunt. A perfect match for a night of depravity. I dream about your lips, how they'd feel on mine, how they'd leave hot trails down my neck, pulling back from your gleaming white teeth when they found the perfect spot to sink into my neck.

Draw blood if you must but leave me a reminder that you were there.

Throw me against the wall, kissing me fiercely. Rip off my clothing, leaving me in rags. Give me no peace, no romance, no courtly manners. Let me hear the words I need. Delectable, hungry fuck words - filthy, smutty, soiled whispers. Don't tell me I'm beautiful, don't mention love. Pretty words fill the silence, nothing more. Instead call me your whore. Your wish is my command. Show me who's in charge, open my eyes to the master.

I see your bare chest, imagine how smooth the skin would be when I raked my nails down, tracing the outline of your six pack with my lips on my way down to the heavy rod between your taut thighs.

I imagine the taste of you - sweat and heat, ice and life. You are a bright and shiny new toy for me to tarnish, to mark. I'm an easy target, a wet heat that surrounds your cock.

Grasp my hair with both fists. Fuck my mouth. Revel in the feel of my tongue bathing your shaft, gasp as I show you the art of deep throating.

When you're ready to come, shooting your load down my throat, don't. Instead, pull me up to stand on shaky legs, thighs quivering with anticipation, knees scraped and bloodied.

This is all about you - my pleasure lies within giving you pleasure. Probe between my lips, finding me wet, finding me wanting. Take no more time, but drive into me, ignoring my whimpers. Make me cry out loud. Show me no mercy, no weakness.

Fuck me until I scream in pain and relief of release. And then fuck me some more. Once you're ready for relief, shove me back to my knees. Force your head between my kiss bruised lips, and watch with satisfaction as I swallow every last drop of you.

All lust, no love. And ultimately...

freedom.







©2009

Friday, June 12, 2009

a flash of kink....

Ok, this is definately an idea I need to (and WILL) expand on. I credit the inspiration for it to JD Robb and her In Death series (I don't know how happy she would be to hear that LOL). I am currently reading Portrait in Death and while the books are not obviously sexual (unless you count the scenes between Eve & Roarke), if you're in the frame of mind I'm often in...you can find sex in just about every one of them.

Ms. Tyler wanted something kinky and I tried to give her something different from the norm. I hope I succeeded.

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Puppet on A String


What had I agreed to?

Giant pulleys were everywhere, attached to a leather harness by wires. I was in that harness. Leather encircled my wrists, head, neck, torso, ankles. Otherwise, I was naked.

I stood there, waiting. He sat across from me, naked as well. His cock stood at full attention, adorned with a thick black ring. His one hand toyed with a group of wooden handles, the other, with his erection.

“Ready?” No time to speak as he yanked on a few handles. I flew into the air, suddenly horizontal, my head above his penis. He slowly released one handle, and I was lowered enough that I could take him in my mouth. I felt my head jerk upwards and realized that a wire was attached to the strap around my head. With constant pulling and releasing, he was orchestrating his own blowjob. I was helpless, and knowing that, my pussy was instantly wet.

When he thought I’d had my fill of him, he maneuvered me into an upright position, using the pulleys to spread my legs. My arousal was evidenced by the sheen on my inside thighs. Positioning himself under me, he lowered me onto his prick.

No words were spoken, but I gasped as his length penetrated me. He moved me up and down his shaft, controlling the speed, and the force, watching my face as he controlled me. I could do nothing, but give in to the absolute pleasure and enjoy being his puppet.


©Miz Angell (06.12.09)

Alison's birthday????

Ok, I'm a bit behind on everything these days, but I had no idea how far until I visited my good friend Dayle's blog, and noticed that today we are celebrating a special birthday (we're not exactly sure WHAT day it is, but they in the blog-o-sphere have decided to break out the cake & champagne today). I figured I'd jump on board the bday train for a woman who changed my life.

So....*A-HEM* on this day mumble...mumble years ago, a new life was brought forth to us.

A baby girl, who would later on in life alter the face of written erotica as it was known. She would go on to coin several phrases, and would forever change the meaning of the word Trollop.

She is many things to many people. A giant ball of contradictions, she is what the moment dictates it needs her to be. She is shy and bold. She is confidant and insecure. She is both a day of race cars and espresso and a lazy day of margaritas and sunshine.

She is the bubbles in our champagne.

Without her, many of us wouldn't know what it is to be a published author. Without her, many of us wouldn't know how good we can be. We wouldn't strive to be better, or to even have as much fun with our sexuality as we do.

She is encouragement and support personified.

Personally, I've only been published once, and it was thanks to her that I am. She saw merit in one of my shorts, and took a chance at including it in an anthology that has now been on the top of Amazon's Literature & Fiction list since it's release. I am honored to be included amongst the great names in Frenzy.

So, today, I wish our very own Trollop, Alison Tyler, the happiest of birthdays. And thank her for being who she is. (and follow the link above to party hop, drink your fill, and meet some very interesting and kinky people).

I hope Sam spoils you rotten, spanks you until you can't sit straight, and then serves you dinner with a smile (and nothing else).



Friday, June 5, 2009

making fantasies come true.....

About a month ago, I was approached by Eden Fantasys to review some of their wonderful adult toys, and of course, I jumped at the chance. I mean, what red-blooded female (or male for that matter) who loves sex wouldn't? Certainly no one *I* know.

So two weeks ago, when this little goody popped up on my doorstep, I was ecstatic. 'What took you so long?' you might be asking. Well, let's just say that reality wasn't very nice in giving me appropriate circumstances and time in which to really study the toy, in order to give it the best review possible.


The Silicone Intimate Diver is an adorable silicone vibrator that is designed in the shape of a friendly dolphin, whom I've named Flipper. It's made to be a G-spot AND clit stimulator, with the split of his little tail fitting the tip of the clit just so. It's a total of eight inches in length, with four of that being inserted into you. You might think that the length is too small, but for me, it was perfect.

As with all silicone products, a water based lubricant is your best bet. Once I had it all slicked up, it was an easy slide into home plate, so to speak. Simple to operate, it has three settings. By pushing the button at the bottom of the grip, you can start out with a gentle buzz, just to warm you up. The lowest setting isn't good for any serious type of getting off, but for an opening act, it does quite well. Then, when you're ready to move up levels, the second setting is a major tease. It vibrates just hard and fast enough to give you a serious taste of what can come - pardon the pun. Then the third level is some serious action, hitting the g-spot with the right amount of ... well, everything. The tail on the clit doesn't distract or detract from the main event, but is definately a nice side dish.

This little baby is also waterproof, and whisper quiet. It made the tub vibrate, as well as my body. His nose worked wonders on my clit, which is great if you need a quick climax. But there's no need to fear the water leaking in. One way I did use it was anally, thought I'm not sure if it was meant for that. I've never really been one on anal activity, but the smooth material and slim design made me think that it might be enjoyable in that area, and I was right. While it was penetrating me that way, the tail was at the entrance to my vagina and it was absolutely the biggest tease a sex toy has ever given me - so far.

All in all, I was very pleased with the results from my fun session with Flipper, and I highly recommend this to my friends, and readers. Visit Eden Fantasys to purchase your own Flipper.

You'll be SO glad you did.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

So Much for Later (flash)

The sounds of sex were what inspired Ms. Tyler's latest contest. This is my flash....hope y'all enjoy.




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Rain spatters against the window, keeping time with my nails clicking on the keyboard. Working, always working. Never enough play time, not if the deadline is going to be met.

SIGH.

I ignore your audible frustration.

“Please baby?” Your normally smooth voice is growling, pleading. I shake my head as I type. One word escapes.

“Later.” My tone is annoyed, snappy.

SIGH.

I keep going, willing myself internally to finish this project. You can wait. You always do.

Not this time.

Zzzippp.

My ears perk at that familiar sound, but I refuse to be distracted.

Smack.

Your denim shorts hit the hardwood by my feet, the button striking hard enough to echo. I bite my lip, trying to stay strong.

The couch exhales as you sit down, the air forced out of the suede cushions as you get comfortable.

Blop.
Squirch.

My eyes close briefly. The scent of strawberries wafts through the air. My thighs are wet, and feel my pussy heating up.

NO. DISTRACTIONS.


“Mmmmhmmm.” Your tone is low, guttural. It’s SEX. Without even a look, I know that your hand is around your cock. That your fist is tight around it, slippery with the lubricant; that you’re stroking up, circling the head with your palm, then downstroking, just the way you like it done. I squirm, moving my clit against my chair.

Teeth grinding.

GASP.

Squelches as you go faster, and faster still.

“Ohhhhhh! Uhhhh…..”

Heavy breathing, and my wet, aching hole are all that’s left.

Fucking work.




©Miz Angell 2009

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Feel the Music (flash)

I swear if it wasn't for Ms. Alison, I would never get any writing done. Who's got time these days? Here's my entry for the contest that just passed. The limit? 250 words as always. The topic? Anything you HEART. (See I can't figure out how to use the keys to type a heart so I just put in the word). And I heart dancing. Do you?



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On the floor, I am a goddess. I can feel all eyes on me, some in envy, some in admiration, but most in lust. Hot gazes slide over my smooth legs, parting as I grind my pussy towards the polished tile. My long hair sparkles under the flashing lights, and I laugh, pushing my ass into the nearest crotch. Immediately his rigid cock caresses my cheeks, and my nipples strain against the thin material covering them.

The wild rhythm of the music inspires a second partner to stand up, and I’m sandwiched between two hard bodies. The one in front of me lifts my leg to rest on his hip, his hand travelling up my thigh, reaching under my flared skirt, brushing fingertips across my bare sex. Only two layers of material prevent this from becoming a double fucking in the middle of this club.

As I grind against the hardness that surrounds me, a third member joins the party. Soft breasts are caressing my arm, and I can feel the heat radiating from her pussy through her black capris. She’s winding on my right thigh, and I lean back into the strong arms that surround me.

Teeth are nipping at my neck, and I gasp as a finger invades my hot spot. A second joins it, and another hand reaches into my shirt. I am the only one being violated in the middle of the hottest joint in town.

On the floor, I am a goddess.

I (heart) dancing.


©Miz Angell 2009

Friday, March 20, 2009

A Woman's Place (flash)

Another flash for the lovely Ms. T. This time, it's about sex toys - but not necessarily the conventional ones that we all think of. Anything can be a sex toy, and some entries in this contest prove it.


Personally, I think I might have needed more than 250 words on this one. But I'll do some more work on it later.


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It was absolutely pristine. Nothing less than expected from world-class chef, and goddess, Jasmine James. All utensils and implements were in their place; stainless steel gleaming under hot white lights. The kitchen, like the woman, was cold perfection. Despite the beauty of my subject, I wasn’t looking forward to this interview.

A flash of colour at the sink caught my eye. Sitting on the edge was a mustard yellow scrub brush with an eight inch curved handle. It seemed out of place.

“It’s an Iannello.” Her husky voice came from behind. I turned around, finding myself wet as I took in her luscious mouth. Her green eyes swept me from head to toe in one glance. She took the brush from me, long fingers caressing the handle. “His items are designed to make women want to come … back to the kitchen.” She ran the bristles along the bare skin revealed by my v-neck. She circled the obvious tips of my nipples through the thin material, running it down my abs. Her breath was hot on my neck as she whispered “Lift your skirt.”

Helplessly I obeyed. Switching ends, she grazed my clit with the tip of the handle, sliding it down my moistness. Lifting my soaked thong to the side, she slowly fucked me with the brush, burying it in me to the hilt. I moaned softly. She thrust her hips against me, asking “Well, shall we get started?”

I gasped, “I’d rather finish first.”



So she let me.


©2009

Friday, March 6, 2009

no apologies....(co-written with Maxie)

Don't say you're sorry. I don't want to hear it.

Don't give me the puppy eyes, they won't work.

And don't, whatever you do, ASK how you can make it up to me. Because you should know.

Get undressed, slowly, so that I can enjoy the way the clothing falls onto the floor, like a discarded skin. Look me in the eyes, bold but shy, as I gaze at your hardness, your cock standing proud.

Get on your knees. And when I stand in front of you, help remove my skirt. You don't need words. When I sit on the edge of the bed, my legs part automatically. I lie back, my hands playing with my nipples, already erect from the whisper of your breath on the insides of my thighs.

I feel the tip of your tongue lightly run up my slit, tasting my arousal. I permit myself a low moan, barely heard. Your fingers open me up, pulling apart my lips and giving yourself access to the deepest parts of me. Your tongue plunges in, a swizzle stick swirling the mixture of saliva and cream, creating yourself a cocktail.

My hands grab your hair, pulling you further into me. I gasp as I feel one finger probe at my rear entrance, sliding in slowly. My thighs relax and fall, and my hands massage your head. You suck on my lips like they're a delicacy. My body is on fire as you flicker the tip of your tongue over my clit, just barely making contact. My hips rise to meet your mouth, but you pull back, keeping the distance between us. Your hands grab mine, pinning them to the matress.

And it continues.

Your tongue is torturing my clit, bringing me continuously to the edge of oblivion, and then stopping, opting to nibble the sensitive skin around it, which still sends vibrations to the desperate bud. I'm practically crying and begging to be released.

You stop. You climb on top of me, rubbing that beautiful hard on up and down my slit, but not completely. You get an evil chuckle out of stopping just short of contact with the one spot that could make me shatter. You move my hands to above my head and anchor my wrists with one hand. Your tongue isn't clocking out yet. Straddling me, you lean in, taking my nipple in your mouth, dancing to the same tune as you did with my pussy, which is clenching, desperate to have you inside me.

You're deliberately taking your time, punishing me when, in truth, it's YOU that deserves the punishment. But I'll take this. I'll enjoy it. You switch hands, and breasts. Your free hand traces circles along my belly, patterns over my thigh, and occassionally strokes your cock against my skin. I swallow a cry as your teeth snap my nipple between them, and you suckle on it like a baby.

I barely feel you move off me as I concentrate on the sweet sensations coarsing through my body. But I do feel the head of your prick as you slowly enter my wetness. My back arches as I try to thrust on you, but you stubbornly take your time, entering me inch by inch. My legs move around your waist, straining to pull you in.

Your eyes sparkle, and I can almost hear the words - you want it? Then TAKE IT.

You withdraw and then slam into me, your head hitting the back of my pussy, and filling me fast and hard. I can't hold back the scream that rips from my throat as you pound into me, my wetness letting you move faster with no resistance. You stand tall, sneering down at me, no mercy in your blue eyes.

With my heels, I kick the back of your knees, causing you to collapse on top of me. I grab onto you, raking my nails down your back, causing you to hiss. Your lips slam down onto mine, bruising my mouth, punishing me further still. Your hands pull my hair, wrenching my neck to the side, exposing the sweet spot; the one place that you can kiss, or bite, on me that will instantly turn me to jello. But rather than bite there, like I expect, you gently kiss it. Yep. Jello.

I clench my cunt around you, tightening up the space. You gasp, going faster, and growling. With every thrust, I'm closer to finally coming. And you are too.

You stand up again, looking in my eyes. With one finger, you reach down, and as I climb higher and higher, you're waiting, for that one signal that will tell you I'm there.

I bite my bottom lip. There it is.

With two fast, hard thrusts, you rub your finger over my clit.

I'm starbound as I feel my juices pour out and all over your cock. With a groan, you withdraw, fisting yourself and coming all over my thighs and pussy.

As I lay there panting, you crawl into bed next to me, moving to put your arms around me.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"To hell you won't."



©2009

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

From the other side

Yes, another flash contest from our lovely Ms. A. Tyler. Thank goodness for her because I keep up my writing chops with these little challenges of hers. We touched ourselves, now it was time to tap into our opposite side.

You read the one below. Now, this is from the MALE pov. Not having a cock, it was definately a challenge to write about jerking off.

I hope I did it justice.


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There she was, bent over his desk. Her short skirt tightened over her fine ass, raising a little as she leaned further into the conversation, allowing me a peek at her crotch, and her bare pussy.

My cock had been hard for her all day. And she knew it. My hard on twitched, getting harder with every thought. Her clean slit, my tongue slurping up her juices…

I needed to come, and I wasn’t going to make it to the bathroom. Surrounded by cubicle walls, there was only one solution.

I lowered my chair, my chest pushed into the desk. Fumbling with my fly, I almost gasped out loud when my erection sprang free. My barely audible reaction reached her ears, and I saw her straighten up. Excusing herself, she silently perched on the edge of my desk, watching me.

Beneath my desk, I stroked my cock, the meat feeling good in my palm. Her tongue flicked out, licking her bottom lip, her nipples hard beneath her sheer blouse. My hand flew faster as I imagined that tongue bathing my shaft, nibbling the head, licking the pre-cum from the tip. I fisted it faster, harder than I had in a long time as I thought about her hot mouth, her hot pussy, her tight ass. My hips thrust upwards, my cock desperate to be shoved in her.

She leaned forward, whispering one word. “Cum.”

Hot white jets of obedience, and relief, hit the bottom of my desk.



“Thank you mistress.”




©2009

Thursday, February 26, 2009

I'm Gonna Touch Myself

Another flash for Ms. Alison Tyler. This time, she wanted us to touch ourselves. Self love is the purest form of love (not to mention the safest LOL). This is my entry, and then pop over to her blog and check out the other entries - they're fucking HAWT.

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The Big Picture



The words flash across the screen.

SHOW ME.

My pulse races. It’s time.

My office door is locked. I’m “on a call” if anyone should be looking. Slowly, I spin my leather chair to face the window, skirt hiked to my waist. Across from me, four blocks away, a blue light flashes once, twice, in a tenth story window. He’s ready.

I put my feet up on the ledge, parting my legs wide, revealing my trimmed bush to anyone who might be watching. No matter. I knew he was, with his telephoto lens, at its maximum setting. I know he can see everything I choose to show him clearly. Like my almond shaped nails trailing along the insides of my thighs, my middle finger seeking out my clit, which is already straining upwards, plump, begging to be touched.

I moan as I make contact, sending a spark up my body. My fingers move down my moist slit, descending along the wetness in slow motion, making sure he gets an eyeful. Using both hands, two fingers find my hole, sliding in and out to their own rhythm. My other hand pulls my lips apart so he won’t miss a thing. I imagine that every window has a set of eyes on me, that they are all doing the same thing. My fingers move faster as I picture faceless hands stroking hard cocks, pummeling wet pussies, heads thrown back, coming loudly, with me.

Right now.

Fuck I hope I’m photogenic.



©2009

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Turnabout...

...is fair play.

At least it is in this latest flash competition from Ms. Tyler. She wanted the word moustache in the story. And from what I gathered, it stems from this story that she told us.

So....as always, I went a different way from the norm. I think I might expand on this idea at a later date. It's .... intriguing.

Tell me if you like it. Ladies, would you do it, and more importantly men, how would YOU react?


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I applied adhesive to my upper lip, smoothing the theatrical moustache I’d purchased over top of the sticky substance. The vain aspect of me cried as I viewed my hairy upper lip. The rest of me was excited thinking of his reaction.

After all the times I’d giggled as he went down on me, his soft facial hair tickling the inside of my thighs, brushing against my freshly shaven lips, sending shivers through me, he was about to get a taste of it.

The idea came to me the other night, when he bent to kiss my neck, a soft mew escaping my lips.

“Why do you always do that?” he whispered nuzzling.

“Because it tickles, in a good way.”

“Guess I’ll never know.” He turned me to him, leaning in, kissing me tenderly. Later, my pussy still glowing with juices and tingling, I thought about what a shame it was that he had to miss out on the lovely sensations that I experienced because of that wonderful moustache. Or did he?


I held a scarf across my face, like a belly dancer, as I approached him. I knelt, taking his fully erect cock in my hand, stroking him hard, watching his eyes drift close in ecstasy. Then I moved the scarf and took him in my mouth. He gasped as the hairs brushed over the top of his shaft. He looked down, eyes widening at the sight of me. Then he relaxed.

“That feels…good.” He said.

“I know.”



©2009

Friday, February 13, 2009

It All Starts with A Wrong Number

I know I haven't been posting lately. Truth be told, I haven't had much time for writing anything halfway decent. But thanks to Ms. Tyler, I am at least keeping in touch with my creative side by popping out these flashes to her challenges.

This creative little challenge was to use at least three of "the" banned words in a 250-word piece. The banned words are: shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits.

I took a different approach on this from the other entrants in the contest. It might not be a winner, but it (in my humble opinion) is certainly amusing.

What do you think?





It All Starts With A Wrong Number

“That fucking cunt.” I swore as I signed out of his email address.

I KNEW she was sending him naughty emails. And he denied the whole thing. That’s why I went in. Normally, invading his privacy was a line I wouldn’t cross. But when a text for him made its way to my phone by accident…

My cocksucker sister was going to pay through the tits for this. And she was online.

My mind working overtime, I logged onto his IM. I wonder if she’d be stupid enough to fall for this.

“Sexy Sharon.” I growled as I typed. “Just read that email. My cock is rock hard. Thinking of sliding into your sweet little pussy makes me want to shoot a load all over the screen.” I shuddered as I typed the words.

She responded. “Oh Jeff. I’m so hot just thinking about that thick cock of yours. I knew you were wasted on my frigid sister. I’d love for you to see me fucking myself with my vibrator. I’d cum so hard for you. My clit is throbbing so badly right now, I’d love to have your tongue on it. Wouldn’t you like to eat me?”

I felt disgusted. It was time to end this.

“Baby, I can’t wait to see you. Turn on your cam. And be prepared for what you see.”

“With pleasure.” She replied. I flicked on the cam.

She came into view, her scarlet red mouth wrapped around her vibrator.

She froze.

“Busted bitch.”



 ©2009

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Turn and face the strange…

**Another challenge from the lovely and talented Ms. Alison Tyler. This one - use the word change anywhere in your story. Tell me what you think.**



I twisted and turned, rechecking every detail. My hands ran down the soft leather of my corset, memorizing the eyelet details, the boning biting into my flesh. The chiffon skirt twirled out from my stocking encased thighs and my pvc boots were polished to a high shine.

The scent of my sex permeated the room, moisture gathering between my thighs. I slid elbow length fingerless gloves on, black tipped fingers poking through. My hair hung past my shoulders, the red highlights shimmering.

My body hummed in anticipation of the night ahead. What a strange feeling it was, to be going to fetish unescorted for a change – and as a single woman no less. To be able to play with no rules or restrictions except my own, and those of my playmates. To be able to fuck whom I wanted, in whatever way I wanted.

I grasped my chosen tool by the hilt, relishing in the firmness of the handle. My pussy clenched in memory at the last time it was used on me. The sound of the leather cracking, the distance tempering the sting as it landed on my ass. I caressed the handle, moaning softly as I ran it across my cheek, down my body and lightly touched it to my swollen clit.

I shuddered, quickly removing it. I picked up my bag, and glanced in the mirror one last time before closing the door behind me. My red lips gleamed as I smiled. Time to embrace change. 




©2009