This is actually a re-post of one of my stories from my Erotica blog (I know, I'm so bad at updating that thing). For some reason I have been feeling love-hate with the idea of sucking a cock lately. I know, I know, you are all thinking, "I think you've been feeling love-hate with a whole LOT of things lately." I have, I am aware of this entirely, but frankly that there is still the love part there is a boon and somewhat of a surprise. I've held onto it, so I'm happy with that for now.
Last night I was looking for porn to get off to, and really wanted to see an awesome video of a woman sucking a man's cock. Amateur for sure, and just watching her enjoying it as much as I feel I would. Doing that to Naughty, and just making him cum even when I couldn't (like when I was at school), always made me so damned wet. I adored describing it so much and knowing how to drag it out, and then just what to do that always seemed to set him off.
I got a whole heck of a lot of comments on this following "story" on Always On Erotica, and it is definitely one of my proudest acheivements in the erotica category, so I think it is due for a repost. Enjoy m'dears...
Sit back. Let me simply admire you in that suit, just home from work. No, don't get up, I like kneeling between your legs, my head resting on your thigh while we discuss our days apart from each other. Those text messages you sent me were...enticing. I nearly ran to the bathroom at work and fingered myself, but instead I sat at my desk, pressing my thighs together to try and assuage the ache between them in the hot, wet folds there. I squirmed and rocked on my chair while I read your texts over and over, telling me all the things you would do to me. They drove me wild and I couldn't wait to get home.
No, don't touch, I just want to unzip your pants and pull them down around your ankles. Already hard, huh? Mmmmm, I love when you whisper that you've been hard for me all day--that you were hard when you wrote those texts. I should have known, you're like my very own animal always ready and willing. Just like me, my pussy is always hot for you, always ready to be filled by your fingers, your tongue, your cock.
Did that hurt? That little bite to your thigh? Good, it was just a tease. I love your thighs, naked beneath my hands while I run them up and down, not quite grazing your cock which I'm mesmerized by as it bobs up and down the slightest bit of precum leaking from the tip. Good, I like that you aren't quite ready.
My fingertips trace up the sides of your cock as I kiss along your thighs, caressing you and tasting you with my tongue. I like not touching your cock right away, not tasting you quite yet. Letting my anticipation build as much as yours does. I can already feel the heat gathering between my thighs, soaking my panties and making my pussy lips slide sensually together. I love the groans you give me when I tell you I've shaved myself bare for you.
I taste your balls first, giving little licks to the sac between your thighs, hanging down low from your cock. That musky taste of them drives me wild, knowing it's your own taste on my tongue. I suck them into my mouth, letting my tongue play more fully and sucking on them ever so lightly. Hold yourself back from grabbing my head, from forcing me down onto you--you know I hate that, I need to take my own time. I need to drive you insane with it.
I cradle your balls in my hand, wet from my saliva, and place soft kisses along your cock, covering each inch of your taut, heated skin. Velvet-encased steel that feels so good on my lips. My tongue flicks out to touch that sweet little spot behind the head of your cock that I know drives you crazy, that I know will make you scream if I give it the proper attention. Finally...I hear you groan that one word when I take just the head of your cock into my mouth and suck sweetly on the tip, letting that hot precum leak onto my tongue. Now you are pressing me down, thrusting up with your cock at the same time, trying to force your cock deeper, but I'll have none of that. Even though it makes my pussy throb to know that I can drive you so wild with need for my mouth that you feel the need for more, faster, I pull your hands away, and push your hips back down, letting the head of your cock pop from my mouth. I scold you with my eyes, but ruin it with a laugh. You smile, slightly annoyed but mostly amused--you love the tease as much as I do. Your head falls back as you beg me for more, and I'm only too happy to oblige.
The head, an inch, another, another, another...soon I have taken in all of your inches, gagging slightly on your cock and pulling back to breathe more easily. I know you like that little gag that you haven't fucked out of me yet, and I don't mind providing it to you, to hear you groan loudly and feel you shiver with desire at the sound of my slight discomfort. I bob my head up and down on your cock slowly, my tongue wrapping around your cock, my hand coming in to stroke the rest of your cock in time to my mouth's ministrations. That tangy, acrid precum is coming out more quickly now, dripping onto my tongue with more regularity. I see your hands gripping the arms of the chair, white-knuckled, and I know you'll cum soon. I adjust one of your legs and straddle it as best I can to relieve some of the ache in my pussy, but I know I won't cum. Not like this. I just want to enjoy it as you cum for me.
I suck the head again, adding a couple extra inches to suck on you, sucking harder until I feel your cock begin to twitch and then I hit that spot with the tip of my tongue--that spot that drives you wild--as I squeeze your balls lightly and taste that hot, sticky cum spurting onto my tongue, hitting the back of my throat it comes out with such force, and drink it down. The sound of you groaning, shouting my name, and the feel of you grabbing my hair to keep my mouth on your cock (as if I would release you now) makes me shake with desire and I squeeze my legs together knowing my time will come.
You release my hair, spent. I lick up the last traces of cum on your cock, and lick my lips of the salty taste of you, sitting back and watching your eyes drift shut, your chest still heaving with exertion.
Then you tackle me, taking me completely by surprise as you throw me to the floor and begin ripping off my pants. "Your turn..."
Showing newest posts with label Literary Awakening. Show older posts
Showing newest posts with label Literary Awakening. Show older posts
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Spank me harder...HNT!
Well, I was going to make up a new HNT for this week but a) I didn't have a spanker I could use on myself (at least not one that wouldn't break because it wasn't actually MADE for spanking), and b) I found this picture that I actually quite like! I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. Although, it is somewhat a funny picture because I'm pretty much "riding" my body pillow--I'm not sure why that strikes me as funny, but it does!
The fabulous part of this whole thing is, though, that I wrote a new erotica story over at Rae's Always On Erotica that is all about spanking. I'm quite obsessed with spanking this week, for some reason (perhaps I think I need to be punished a little), and spanking has been on my brain ever since...well, actually since Saturday night. Doesn't a little spanking just sound delightful?
Well, you can imagine spanking me if you'd like (courtesy of the picture for HNT--go see Osbasso to find out how to HNT! I don't follow it too closely, but he has been an inspiration for HNTers everywhere!), or your lover, or being spanked by your lover. All while checking out the erotica entry over here. The title of the story even matches this one...Spank me Harder. Odd, since I don't even use that phrase in the story.
And as for Naughty (if anyone is interested) I'm still quite good about the whole thing. I think it will be fine, and I did hear from him on Monday so I don't even have to worry about that (let's face it, it was highly likely) breakdown of writing him first! A girl does have to keep some pride when her man asks if they can have a bit of a break. Of course, I've lost that now because I've emailed him two or three...(ok! It was 5!) times since he wrote me. I can't help it! He's easily one of my best friends now and I just like writing him! And he likes that I babble, which is just a miracle.
Now, onto a (hopefully) delicious HNT! Enjoy!
Monday, May 19, 2008
Sugar and Spice...Romance is Nice
I love romance novels. Have I mentioned that? I’m quite sure I have because I’m quite sure that there isn’t a person in the world that I have met that doesn’t know of my love for romance novels.
I used to call them a guilty pleasure, but now they are really just a pleasure and I don’t care who knows. I read them at school all the time and get professor’s stopping and asking what I’m reading. I was sheepish about it at first, and would sort of hide my head and say, “Oh, a fluff book.” Well fuck that, because romance novels are awesome! I was an English major, so it’s a big no-no to like something like romance novels, but I can’t imagine that more than 50% of the book buying population are idiots because that is what romance readers account for of the paperback-reading population. We know good writing when we see it (ok, not always—I’m afraid to read Cassie Edwards because I have seen some of her excerpts and boy, oy, oy…that is just not good), and frankly there are a very large number of great romantic authors out there. They are funny, and good-hearted, and sexy. I don’t need my fiction to always make a serious political stance or to be the next-great-American-novel. We’ve had a lot of great-American-novels, we don’t need to be flooding the market with them or else there won’t be a “next,” there will just be, “oh, another book that wants to be critically acclaimed.” Well, I’m a damned critic and I am here to tell you that romance novels are great!
I love romance authors too though, because they never take themselves too seriously. They KNOW they aren’t writing some political satire, or a commentary on the state of the world and how we can change it, but they also know that they have a built in audience of people who LOVE to read about relationships and about people falling in love. And as evidence by that percentage above, clearly a lot of people like to read about other people falling in love.
Maybe it’s just women wanting to imagine that men like romantic heroes actually exist. They do, to an extent, and so do romantic heroines…to an extent. No longer is it some gorgeous, vapid woman who cannot ever fend for herself (although there are quite a few damsel-in-distress scenarios in romance), but women who do fend for themselves and maybe they get into a scrape or two that is a bit harder to extract themselves from and the heroes have to save them, but usually the women are smart and funny and kind, and only sometimes classically gorgeous. More often they are normal women, who maybe feel a little funny about how big their butt is. We women are smart (I’m generalizing women as romance readers, because they are the majority), we like our heroines, at the very least, smart, and even if they are damsels in distress we know that if they weren’t tied to a chair or being forcibly held down (or maybe if they just had a bit more time) they would be able to extract themselves from the villain's clutches. Thankyouverymuch.
What do I mean by thinking that these heroines and heroes actually exist? Well, I think most of us know that writing if it is all about “writing what you know,” doesn’t really make for good reading. Writing what I know? I know that I woke up at 7:30am this morning, grumbled for awhile, brushed my teeth, almost went to the gym but instead took a shower, ate breakfast, read for forty minutes, and then trotted off to work where I spent 6 hours with my estate planning professor trying to decide what the hell he should have me and the other interns do for the summer. Then I drove home. Did you actually want to read about that? The highlight of the day was when the waiter at lunch was kind of a weirdo, but that only lasted the total of seven minutes he talked to us. That was easily the most dull aspect of this entry, I know this. And no one really wants to read this. So, we make things more exciting as writers. We start to rant, so at the very least you can laugh at us, or we exaggerate the romantic qualities of everyday men (ok, we may very well exaggerate their physical qualities too—big cocks and rippling abs are still big in romance) and play down those qualities in ourselves that maybe we don’t like so much. Feeling a little shrewish today? Your heroine is probably going to be toned down to a little kinder and a little more easy-going. Feeling like the entire world is too heavy for your shoulders? Your heroine is probably going to become a tad more independent and have an inner strength that is beyond compare. Maybe I just do that, but I hardly want my heroine to be shrewish or weak! I want her strong, and kind, and the better aspects of my character that I think women will identify with and think, “Hey, I can be more like that,” or “If she can be shy and get the man, so can I!”
Romance is sort of life-affirming that way. It gives me a positive outlook on life. It makes me happier when I read it, and no I don’t think it actually makes me expect amazingly romantic results from my lover (even though Naughty does quite well in the romance department from my perspective). Sure, we all like a little romance in our lives now and again, but 24/7 sugar? No thanks. I like my life with a little more spice than that.
I used to call them a guilty pleasure, but now they are really just a pleasure and I don’t care who knows. I read them at school all the time and get professor’s stopping and asking what I’m reading. I was sheepish about it at first, and would sort of hide my head and say, “Oh, a fluff book.” Well fuck that, because romance novels are awesome! I was an English major, so it’s a big no-no to like something like romance novels, but I can’t imagine that more than 50% of the book buying population are idiots because that is what romance readers account for of the paperback-reading population. We know good writing when we see it (ok, not always—I’m afraid to read Cassie Edwards because I have seen some of her excerpts and boy, oy, oy…that is just not good), and frankly there are a very large number of great romantic authors out there. They are funny, and good-hearted, and sexy. I don’t need my fiction to always make a serious political stance or to be the next-great-American-novel. We’ve had a lot of great-American-novels, we don’t need to be flooding the market with them or else there won’t be a “next,” there will just be, “oh, another book that wants to be critically acclaimed.” Well, I’m a damned critic and I am here to tell you that romance novels are great!
I love romance authors too though, because they never take themselves too seriously. They KNOW they aren’t writing some political satire, or a commentary on the state of the world and how we can change it, but they also know that they have a built in audience of people who LOVE to read about relationships and about people falling in love. And as evidence by that percentage above, clearly a lot of people like to read about other people falling in love.
Maybe it’s just women wanting to imagine that men like romantic heroes actually exist. They do, to an extent, and so do romantic heroines…to an extent. No longer is it some gorgeous, vapid woman who cannot ever fend for herself (although there are quite a few damsel-in-distress scenarios in romance), but women who do fend for themselves and maybe they get into a scrape or two that is a bit harder to extract themselves from and the heroes have to save them, but usually the women are smart and funny and kind, and only sometimes classically gorgeous. More often they are normal women, who maybe feel a little funny about how big their butt is. We women are smart (I’m generalizing women as romance readers, because they are the majority), we like our heroines, at the very least, smart, and even if they are damsels in distress we know that if they weren’t tied to a chair or being forcibly held down (or maybe if they just had a bit more time) they would be able to extract themselves from the villain's clutches. Thankyouverymuch.
What do I mean by thinking that these heroines and heroes actually exist? Well, I think most of us know that writing if it is all about “writing what you know,” doesn’t really make for good reading. Writing what I know? I know that I woke up at 7:30am this morning, grumbled for awhile, brushed my teeth, almost went to the gym but instead took a shower, ate breakfast, read for forty minutes, and then trotted off to work where I spent 6 hours with my estate planning professor trying to decide what the hell he should have me and the other interns do for the summer. Then I drove home. Did you actually want to read about that? The highlight of the day was when the waiter at lunch was kind of a weirdo, but that only lasted the total of seven minutes he talked to us. That was easily the most dull aspect of this entry, I know this. And no one really wants to read this. So, we make things more exciting as writers. We start to rant, so at the very least you can laugh at us, or we exaggerate the romantic qualities of everyday men (ok, we may very well exaggerate their physical qualities too—big cocks and rippling abs are still big in romance) and play down those qualities in ourselves that maybe we don’t like so much. Feeling a little shrewish today? Your heroine is probably going to be toned down to a little kinder and a little more easy-going. Feeling like the entire world is too heavy for your shoulders? Your heroine is probably going to become a tad more independent and have an inner strength that is beyond compare. Maybe I just do that, but I hardly want my heroine to be shrewish or weak! I want her strong, and kind, and the better aspects of my character that I think women will identify with and think, “Hey, I can be more like that,” or “If she can be shy and get the man, so can I!”
Romance is sort of life-affirming that way. It gives me a positive outlook on life. It makes me happier when I read it, and no I don’t think it actually makes me expect amazingly romantic results from my lover (even though Naughty does quite well in the romance department from my perspective). Sure, we all like a little romance in our lives now and again, but 24/7 sugar? No thanks. I like my life with a little more spice than that.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Embarrassed? Not so much.
Well, I wasn’t going to write today. I had thought about it, but after finishing (yes! Finishing!) my paper, I just had no desire to write much of anything. Ten thousand words (which is 2500 more words than I actually needed to have—and it was 10,052 to be exact, 12,500 with footnotes) is a lot of words. I’ve written much more than that before, but not all in one weekend, and certainly never that much when it wasn’t a creative endeavor.
The paper is now finished though and none too soon. I would love to shout, “I’m finished! I’m finished!” But I’m not quite. I still have my finals for three other classes. Not excited to have to study for those though.
Two movie updates: am currently watching “Enchanted.” Love this movie. I’m such a fan of Disney movies anyway, but this sort of combines all things Disney and it’s just hilarious. Plus, there is this moment where Patrick Dempsey’s character and Amy Adams’ character are dancing at this ball and he sings along softly, in her ear, to the song playing. It is so beyond romantic. And at least while he’s singing softly he has quite a nice voice. It’s just delicious.
Second movie update… “Forgetting Sarah Marshall”? Freaking genius! I adore sex jokes (I know, you're shocked), but these are smart sex jokes. It’s raunchy, but it’s still smart. I am not generally a huge fan of the Judd Apatow movies. I liked “Knocked Up,” but wasn’t as impressed with it as I expected to be. I LOVED “40 Year Old Virgin,” and laughed hysterically through it. Did not like “Superbad.” Individually the actors were good and kind of funny, but I didn’t get why it was supposedly so great. I barely laughed at all. This is Judd Apatow produced and Jason Segel wrote the script. I adored it. It was still a little bit of a romantic film, but it was mostly comedy. And the British guy? I thought I might pee my pants he was so funny. I loved the cameos from all the Judd Apatow people though. And now, I sort of have a girl crush on Mila Kunis. She was super cute in that movie. I also now want to go to Hawaii.
This leads me to the conversation I had with my mom when I got home. She came up to me and said that I had to move all of my sex toys (for reference, I only had my small clitoral vibrator in the bookcase next to my bed. Second shelf down—it’s fairly innocuous looking, it’s definitely not a dildo, it’s actually not much bigger than my middle finger) and that I should be embarrassed about it because anyone could come into my room and see it and that because it is their house anyone CAN come into the room and see it.
1) No one comes into my room much. My mom does on occasion, but my dad is almost never in my room. And trust me, no one else is either, unless I invite them in and then I know I’ve at least cleaned up and put my vibrators away. 2) I’m not embarrassed. No, I don’t necessarily want any and everyone seeing dildos or anal beads, but my little vibe? I could really care less. Ninety percent of my friends KNOW that I have sex toys and know that I like to talk and write about sex. I just wrote a paper, for chrissakes, that details my belief that the Catholic Church should relax their stance on masturbation as a method of promoting virginity! Does that sound like the paper of a girl who is embarrassed to discuss sex?
My mom also thought that I need to be careful because stuff like ordering sex toys on the internet can “come back to haunt me.” I believe when she used the word “stuff” she was also implying this blog could come back to haunt me. I get the Washingtonienne thing and the revealing information that was given out on that blog and the scandal that ensued. But that is also why I chose to make this blog anonymous—more importantly it’s one reason I’ve chosen to keep this blog as separated from my real life as possible (at least most of the time). I have no intention of talking about work stuff, except for saying if I’ve managed to get a job for the summer (still keep your fingers crossed on that!), because that isn’t the point of this blog. If it comes back to haunt me that I have this blog then I’ll deal with it. But I have thought about the fact of someone possibly finding out, that doesn’t know, about this blog and confronting me with it. I might be a little embarrassed that someone I don’t know has just read in detail about my sex life with Naughty—but it would be the embarrassment of someone finding out who I hadn’t chosen to inform in the first place.
My brother has said that he’s “not ashamed” of the stuff he does now that he is on the brink of divorce (this is as of last week, it might change--one never knows with my bro). Except for the fact that the “stuff” he does, is more like going out and drinking a little too often and leaving wife and family at home, and generally just having a good time and acting like he’s still 21 when he’s actually 31. Stuff that truly will come back to haunt him in divorce, if it comes to that. I’m not ashamed of ordering sex toys, and having a sex life. I’m not ashamed of having this blog. As I look back at the things that I’ve written or the things that I have ordered off the Internet? It’s my private life. Perhaps it is in a slightly more public forum, but it is still my private world and nothing that would ever interfere with my work. I don’t know if my mom thinks I am going to become a politician and that is how it will haunt me, but I can guarantee that is never going to be in the cards. Me and politics? Not good. I am too all over the place in my beliefs. I wouldn’t be able to pick a side.
Do any of you worry that your blog will come back to haunt you? Or that sexual choices you have made will do so? Maybe I’m alone here, but if someone can actually make that a relevant part of my job—unless maybe I’m working for a Catholic organization (which I also guarantee will not be happening if I have the choice)—then I don’t think I want to work with someone like that.
Ooh, funny story sidebar by the way: everyone know the Bowers v. Hardwick case of 1986? It was the precursor to Lawrence v. Texas and sodomy right being protected by the Constitution? Ok, quickie background then—Bowers v. Hardwick was two homosexual men found having oral sex IN THEIR HOME by police (don’t get me started) and they were then prosecuted for it. Supreme Court held that consensual sodomy was not protected by the Constitution and the 14th Amendment (btw—I think this could be covered under the 9th Amendment too, because it is sort of a catch all Amendment). They found that even though this was only being done for morality reasons, it was okay to prosecute on morality reasons. Stupid. Lawrence v. Texas overturned that decision in 2003, saying that Bowers was wrong at the time and is wrong today (go Supreme Court!). So, what is my point? Turns out that in 1997 (sorry, I was only 13! Bowers didn’t register as important to me!), the Attorney General that Bowers was prosecuted under, his name was Mike Bowers, admitted that he had had a ten year extramarital affair. And he’s the man who was steering our moral compass ten years earlier? Nice. I found that out in the course of my research and found it amusing.
The paper is now finished though and none too soon. I would love to shout, “I’m finished! I’m finished!” But I’m not quite. I still have my finals for three other classes. Not excited to have to study for those though.
Two movie updates: am currently watching “Enchanted.” Love this movie. I’m such a fan of Disney movies anyway, but this sort of combines all things Disney and it’s just hilarious. Plus, there is this moment where Patrick Dempsey’s character and Amy Adams’ character are dancing at this ball and he sings along softly, in her ear, to the song playing. It is so beyond romantic. And at least while he’s singing softly he has quite a nice voice. It’s just delicious.
Second movie update… “Forgetting Sarah Marshall”? Freaking genius! I adore sex jokes (I know, you're shocked), but these are smart sex jokes. It’s raunchy, but it’s still smart. I am not generally a huge fan of the Judd Apatow movies. I liked “Knocked Up,” but wasn’t as impressed with it as I expected to be. I LOVED “40 Year Old Virgin,” and laughed hysterically through it. Did not like “Superbad.” Individually the actors were good and kind of funny, but I didn’t get why it was supposedly so great. I barely laughed at all. This is Judd Apatow produced and Jason Segel wrote the script. I adored it. It was still a little bit of a romantic film, but it was mostly comedy. And the British guy? I thought I might pee my pants he was so funny. I loved the cameos from all the Judd Apatow people though. And now, I sort of have a girl crush on Mila Kunis. She was super cute in that movie. I also now want to go to Hawaii.
This leads me to the conversation I had with my mom when I got home. She came up to me and said that I had to move all of my sex toys (for reference, I only had my small clitoral vibrator in the bookcase next to my bed. Second shelf down—it’s fairly innocuous looking, it’s definitely not a dildo, it’s actually not much bigger than my middle finger) and that I should be embarrassed about it because anyone could come into my room and see it and that because it is their house anyone CAN come into the room and see it.
1) No one comes into my room much. My mom does on occasion, but my dad is almost never in my room. And trust me, no one else is either, unless I invite them in and then I know I’ve at least cleaned up and put my vibrators away. 2) I’m not embarrassed. No, I don’t necessarily want any and everyone seeing dildos or anal beads, but my little vibe? I could really care less. Ninety percent of my friends KNOW that I have sex toys and know that I like to talk and write about sex. I just wrote a paper, for chrissakes, that details my belief that the Catholic Church should relax their stance on masturbation as a method of promoting virginity! Does that sound like the paper of a girl who is embarrassed to discuss sex?
My mom also thought that I need to be careful because stuff like ordering sex toys on the internet can “come back to haunt me.” I believe when she used the word “stuff” she was also implying this blog could come back to haunt me. I get the Washingtonienne thing and the revealing information that was given out on that blog and the scandal that ensued. But that is also why I chose to make this blog anonymous—more importantly it’s one reason I’ve chosen to keep this blog as separated from my real life as possible (at least most of the time). I have no intention of talking about work stuff, except for saying if I’ve managed to get a job for the summer (still keep your fingers crossed on that!), because that isn’t the point of this blog. If it comes back to haunt me that I have this blog then I’ll deal with it. But I have thought about the fact of someone possibly finding out, that doesn’t know, about this blog and confronting me with it. I might be a little embarrassed that someone I don’t know has just read in detail about my sex life with Naughty—but it would be the embarrassment of someone finding out who I hadn’t chosen to inform in the first place.
My brother has said that he’s “not ashamed” of the stuff he does now that he is on the brink of divorce (this is as of last week, it might change--one never knows with my bro). Except for the fact that the “stuff” he does, is more like going out and drinking a little too often and leaving wife and family at home, and generally just having a good time and acting like he’s still 21 when he’s actually 31. Stuff that truly will come back to haunt him in divorce, if it comes to that. I’m not ashamed of ordering sex toys, and having a sex life. I’m not ashamed of having this blog. As I look back at the things that I’ve written or the things that I have ordered off the Internet? It’s my private life. Perhaps it is in a slightly more public forum, but it is still my private world and nothing that would ever interfere with my work. I don’t know if my mom thinks I am going to become a politician and that is how it will haunt me, but I can guarantee that is never going to be in the cards. Me and politics? Not good. I am too all over the place in my beliefs. I wouldn’t be able to pick a side.
Do any of you worry that your blog will come back to haunt you? Or that sexual choices you have made will do so? Maybe I’m alone here, but if someone can actually make that a relevant part of my job—unless maybe I’m working for a Catholic organization (which I also guarantee will not be happening if I have the choice)—then I don’t think I want to work with someone like that.
Ooh, funny story sidebar by the way: everyone know the Bowers v. Hardwick case of 1986? It was the precursor to Lawrence v. Texas and sodomy right being protected by the Constitution? Ok, quickie background then—Bowers v. Hardwick was two homosexual men found having oral sex IN THEIR HOME by police (don’t get me started) and they were then prosecuted for it. Supreme Court held that consensual sodomy was not protected by the Constitution and the 14th Amendment (btw—I think this could be covered under the 9th Amendment too, because it is sort of a catch all Amendment). They found that even though this was only being done for morality reasons, it was okay to prosecute on morality reasons. Stupid. Lawrence v. Texas overturned that decision in 2003, saying that Bowers was wrong at the time and is wrong today (go Supreme Court!). So, what is my point? Turns out that in 1997 (sorry, I was only 13! Bowers didn’t register as important to me!), the Attorney General that Bowers was prosecuted under, his name was Mike Bowers, admitted that he had had a ten year extramarital affair. And he’s the man who was steering our moral compass ten years earlier? Nice. I found that out in the course of my research and found it amusing.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Call to Arms
Ladies. Gents. You know I love you. So, I need a favor.
See, here's the thing. To be a lawyer you have to submit an, at least, 7500 word paper (roughly 20 pages) for a writing requirement. I was going to do mine (in my Religious Lawyer class) on Islamic and Christian/Catholic-centric countries and how their laws treats what, we here in the U.S.A., consider the basic right of freedom of religion/separation of church and State. I could get behind the idea, but I haven't been able to figure out exactly what I wanted to say. So, today while we discussed Lawrence v. Texas (very important gay rights case--based around the illegality of homosexual sodomy in Texas, yes, only homosexual), I had an idea that had been very briefly stirring, about the discussion of the Christian perspective (for the most part) on laws regarding sex/obscenity/sexuality in the United States, with some brief comparisons to other Christian-centric European countries that are more secular, but have more lax laws on obscenity.
I have no problem discussing the Christian perspective (even though I rarely agree with the basic premise of most religion in general), and might have to work on the objectivity. I am having a minor problem finding books/articles that deal with obscenity laws/sex laws that aren't just downright comedic (i.e., did you know in Minnesota it's illegal for a man to have sex with a fish? Apparently not a woman however--please insert Land of 10,000 Lakes joke here). I've found quite a few, but have just been saving in my favorites ANYTHING that has to do with Sex, Religion, Law/Politics/Legislation. So if anyone has any wild and wonderful suggestions for me, I'd be ever so grateful to you all. Ed, I know you'll have some great ones. I'm still tweaking the idea a little so I can get an outline pounded out and truly start my research in earnest.
I think this will be a fun topic...plus, I get to talk about sex--including masturbation, sodomy, BDSM, and the like. What could be better than that? And just for fun...if anyone can find a wacky and weird sex law from there state/country post it up here! (great suggestion from the Naughty One). And of course a quippy commentary on it is always welcome! :-)
Thanks my lovely bloggers!
Another one (this is for YOU Sweetness, of Sharing Sweetness ), in Illinois, state law mandates that all bachelors must be called master (NOT mister) when addressed by their female counterparts. Also good for all you Illinoisian (sorry, I think I butchered that) Masters and slaves out there.
See, here's the thing. To be a lawyer you have to submit an, at least, 7500 word paper (roughly 20 pages) for a writing requirement. I was going to do mine (in my Religious Lawyer class) on Islamic and Christian/Catholic-centric countries and how their laws treats what, we here in the U.S.A., consider the basic right of freedom of religion/separation of church and State. I could get behind the idea, but I haven't been able to figure out exactly what I wanted to say. So, today while we discussed Lawrence v. Texas (very important gay rights case--based around the illegality of homosexual sodomy in Texas, yes, only homosexual), I had an idea that had been very briefly stirring, about the discussion of the Christian perspective (for the most part) on laws regarding sex/obscenity/sexuality in the United States, with some brief comparisons to other Christian-centric European countries that are more secular, but have more lax laws on obscenity.
I have no problem discussing the Christian perspective (even though I rarely agree with the basic premise of most religion in general), and might have to work on the objectivity. I am having a minor problem finding books/articles that deal with obscenity laws/sex laws that aren't just downright comedic (i.e., did you know in Minnesota it's illegal for a man to have sex with a fish? Apparently not a woman however--please insert Land of 10,000 Lakes joke here). I've found quite a few, but have just been saving in my favorites ANYTHING that has to do with Sex, Religion, Law/Politics/Legislation. So if anyone has any wild and wonderful suggestions for me, I'd be ever so grateful to you all. Ed, I know you'll have some great ones. I'm still tweaking the idea a little so I can get an outline pounded out and truly start my research in earnest.
I think this will be a fun topic...plus, I get to talk about sex--including masturbation, sodomy, BDSM, and the like. What could be better than that? And just for fun...if anyone can find a wacky and weird sex law from there state/country post it up here! (great suggestion from the Naughty One). And of course a quippy commentary on it is always welcome! :-)
Thanks my lovely bloggers!
Another one (this is for YOU Sweetness, of Sharing Sweetness ), in Illinois, state law mandates that all bachelors must be called master (NOT mister) when addressed by their female counterparts. Also good for all you Illinoisian (sorry, I think I butchered that) Masters and slaves out there.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Good Advice
(I don't know why, but that reminds me of the song Alice sings in Alice in Wonderland while in the forest about trying to give herself "some good advice"--I love Disney...you know, I talk about that a lot, I wonder if that's weird?). Anyway, I think I will be taking the good advice of Vi, who suggested that I start putting the erotic stories I've decided to write up on my blog--or a separate one. I'm not sure why I didn't think of it, but it's a great idea! I'm going to do the separate one instead of on here, because I like to keep that a little separate, and since I post on here quite often, but I will be linking to it once it's up and running.
I'm currently working on the one I started as a fantasy with CSG, about the threesome fantasy. I have a couple pages already, so I'll have to decide if I need to post sections of posts or if I am just going to post one long one (I know, that's a pain sometimes).
I, surprisingly, got to play briefly with CSG this morning. Normally that doesn't happen on Saturdays, because the parents (or at least my mom) are home, but mom was gone this morning and I had written to him giving him some....personal updates and the like. :-) However, I logged on, on the off chance he would be home and got lucky...lol, in more ways then one.
I also finished "On the Way to the Wedding" by Julia Quinn today. I stayed up until 1am reading it last night and then finished it up today. I love catching up on reading, although I really should be working on a) my manual for the legal center, and b) a cover letter to get a job. Yikes, that isn't fun.
I'll let ya'll know when I put up the new Erotica blog...any suggestions for a name? I thought of Always On Erotica, but I'm not sure I love it yet.
I'm currently working on the one I started as a fantasy with CSG, about the threesome fantasy. I have a couple pages already, so I'll have to decide if I need to post sections of posts or if I am just going to post one long one (I know, that's a pain sometimes).
I, surprisingly, got to play briefly with CSG this morning. Normally that doesn't happen on Saturdays, because the parents (or at least my mom) are home, but mom was gone this morning and I had written to him giving him some....personal updates and the like. :-) However, I logged on, on the off chance he would be home and got lucky...lol, in more ways then one.
I also finished "On the Way to the Wedding" by Julia Quinn today. I stayed up until 1am reading it last night and then finished it up today. I love catching up on reading, although I really should be working on a) my manual for the legal center, and b) a cover letter to get a job. Yikes, that isn't fun.
I'll let ya'll know when I put up the new Erotica blog...any suggestions for a name? I thought of Always On Erotica, but I'm not sure I love it yet.
Friday, October 26, 2007
PS Operator Finis
Tonight was our law school's annual Bar Review Halloween Party (bar review is not for the Bar Exam--instead we examine the inside of a glass). I realized I know a lot of very gentlemenly men actually, which is so greatly appreciated, because I have known a lot of guys that think if they are not interested in getting into a girl's pants there is really no reason to act chivalrously. I wanted to kiss my friend BG, who was in Rome with me, for being so sweet and refusing to let me help pay for the cab when I offered money. And I DID kiss (the cheek of) Sweetie Pie for just being a sweetheart all around. Mainly I wanted to lay a big red smacking kiss on someone's cheek and he was definitely the best candidate. It was damned fun, and I was Little Red Riding Hood...gone bad, of course, because what else is Halloween about if not slightly hoe-ish dressing up?
This is the last installment of one of my sex scenes from my book. No mas after this. View the previous stallments at Part 1 and Part 2 (it seriously won't make sense if you don't--actually, it will still make sense, but the other parts will just help you a little more with the story). I decided it was too hard to read in the smaller print and block-quoted, so hopefully this will be better.
Jack focused his gaze on Katie’s, watching as her eyes widened and her breathing deepened. Each movement of her hips, grinding on him, brushed her breasts against his arm, and each time she guided his hand over his cock he could only hope that he wouldn’t explode before he could watch her come.
He spoke to her, goading her, hoping to satisfy his impatience. “Do you want me inside you Katie? Will you come for me when I’m inside you?” Her hips moved faster, grinding down on him, squirming and writhing against him, more wetness seeping from her body onto his leg. “Hitting just that right spot. Rubbing your clit for you. Fucking you, like you’re fucking my leg. Will you squeeze my cock and milk me ‘til I come…”
“Ooh, god! Jack! Jack! Yes! Fuck me, Jack!” Her body convulsed on him, shaking and bearing down on his leg as she came against him, screaming his name—just like she said she would. She pumped him hard with her hand, and Jack felt his control slipping.
And then she bit him. Her teeth grazing his neck, biting hard enough to sting, to bruise, as she continued to ride the wave of her orgasm against his leg, moaning and whimpering incoherently.
And he lost his mind.
Hot come spurted from the tip of his cock, blasting first against his abdomen and then flowing in a scorching river over both their hands, still wrapped around the shaft.
Jack couldn’t speak, couldn’t make any noise as he came. He couldn’t remember his own goddamned name as he sat there watching Katie watching him come, switching her gaze between his face and the sticky strings of ejaculate coating their hands.
He would swear for the rest of his life that he orgasmed again, right there, when first Katie licked her lips and then leaned down to lick up the trail of come on his abs.
Katie continued to lick her lips, looking as though she savored the taste of him and she sucked his come off of first her fingers, and then his own.
“Breathe, Jack,” she instructed and his breath left him in a rush. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped air flow, but he felt the dizzying effects of it now that oxygen was getting to his brain.
Or maybe that was just Katie’s effect on him.
He closed his eyes when she took his index finger into her mouth. They flew open when he realized he felt it all the more acutely with his eyes shut.
Instead, he concentrated on her body—the tight furl of her nipples, which he wished he’d spent a little more time on.
But more intriguing was that he could feel her body—he could feel the occasional pulse of her pussy, like little aftershocks running through her body.
When she’d licked him clean, he kissed her palm, feeling very tender to the woman sitting on his lap. She’d just blown his mind in more ways than one, and he was feeling damned good about himself.
Jack leaned his forehead against hers and they continued to sit there for a moment, until he noticed that her eyes were drifting shut.
“Come on, sleepyhead.” He moved her gently off his leg, and automatically ran a single finger through her slit, bringing the remaining wetness to his mouth for a sweet taste. She jumped in surprise.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just wanted to return the favor.”
He swore she moaned.
“Do you need to go?” she asked, crawling beneath her sheets. He tensed for a moment, but realized that she’d asked without guile, and she was already half asleep.
“Soon enough,” he replied, laying a wet kiss against her naked shoulder.
“Just lock up…when…you…” Just like that she was out. Jack nearly laughed aloud. And guys were supposed to be the ones who fell asleep so quickly after sex?
He knew he should go—he didn’t want the entanglement that this might bring, but it was getting far too late, and he was fading fast.
Jack told himself it was better to sleep for a couple of hours and then drive. It was safer that way, right? Right. No sense in driving across town to his house only to end up falling asleep at the wheel.
He kept telling himself that, until he closed his eyes to rest, dragging Katie’s soft, sleepy body against his.
And he tried his best not to think about how the most unassuming woman in the world had just given him the most erotic experience of his life. That road was just too dangerous to drive.
I really hope you guys have enjoyed this, or at least that you are reading it. I really enjoyed this sex scene.
This is the last installment of one of my sex scenes from my book. No mas after this. View the previous stallments at Part 1 and Part 2 (it seriously won't make sense if you don't--actually, it will still make sense, but the other parts will just help you a little more with the story). I decided it was too hard to read in the smaller print and block-quoted, so hopefully this will be better.
Jack focused his gaze on Katie’s, watching as her eyes widened and her breathing deepened. Each movement of her hips, grinding on him, brushed her breasts against his arm, and each time she guided his hand over his cock he could only hope that he wouldn’t explode before he could watch her come.
He spoke to her, goading her, hoping to satisfy his impatience. “Do you want me inside you Katie? Will you come for me when I’m inside you?” Her hips moved faster, grinding down on him, squirming and writhing against him, more wetness seeping from her body onto his leg. “Hitting just that right spot. Rubbing your clit for you. Fucking you, like you’re fucking my leg. Will you squeeze my cock and milk me ‘til I come…”
“Ooh, god! Jack! Jack! Yes! Fuck me, Jack!” Her body convulsed on him, shaking and bearing down on his leg as she came against him, screaming his name—just like she said she would. She pumped him hard with her hand, and Jack felt his control slipping.
And then she bit him. Her teeth grazing his neck, biting hard enough to sting, to bruise, as she continued to ride the wave of her orgasm against his leg, moaning and whimpering incoherently.
And he lost his mind.
Hot come spurted from the tip of his cock, blasting first against his abdomen and then flowing in a scorching river over both their hands, still wrapped around the shaft.
Jack couldn’t speak, couldn’t make any noise as he came. He couldn’t remember his own goddamned name as he sat there watching Katie watching him come, switching her gaze between his face and the sticky strings of ejaculate coating their hands.
He would swear for the rest of his life that he orgasmed again, right there, when first Katie licked her lips and then leaned down to lick up the trail of come on his abs.
Katie continued to lick her lips, looking as though she savored the taste of him and she sucked his come off of first her fingers, and then his own.
“Breathe, Jack,” she instructed and his breath left him in a rush. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped air flow, but he felt the dizzying effects of it now that oxygen was getting to his brain.
Or maybe that was just Katie’s effect on him.
He closed his eyes when she took his index finger into her mouth. They flew open when he realized he felt it all the more acutely with his eyes shut.
Instead, he concentrated on her body—the tight furl of her nipples, which he wished he’d spent a little more time on.
But more intriguing was that he could feel her body—he could feel the occasional pulse of her pussy, like little aftershocks running through her body.
When she’d licked him clean, he kissed her palm, feeling very tender to the woman sitting on his lap. She’d just blown his mind in more ways than one, and he was feeling damned good about himself.
Jack leaned his forehead against hers and they continued to sit there for a moment, until he noticed that her eyes were drifting shut.
“Come on, sleepyhead.” He moved her gently off his leg, and automatically ran a single finger through her slit, bringing the remaining wetness to his mouth for a sweet taste. She jumped in surprise.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just wanted to return the favor.”
He swore she moaned.
“Do you need to go?” she asked, crawling beneath her sheets. He tensed for a moment, but realized that she’d asked without guile, and she was already half asleep.
“Soon enough,” he replied, laying a wet kiss against her naked shoulder.
“Just lock up…when…you…” Just like that she was out. Jack nearly laughed aloud. And guys were supposed to be the ones who fell asleep so quickly after sex?
He knew he should go—he didn’t want the entanglement that this might bring, but it was getting far too late, and he was fading fast.
Jack told himself it was better to sleep for a couple of hours and then drive. It was safer that way, right? Right. No sense in driving across town to his house only to end up falling asleep at the wheel.
He kept telling himself that, until he closed his eyes to rest, dragging Katie’s soft, sleepy body against his.
And he tried his best not to think about how the most unassuming woman in the world had just given him the most erotic experience of his life. That road was just too dangerous to drive.
I really hope you guys have enjoyed this, or at least that you are reading it. I really enjoyed this sex scene.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
PS Operator Part Deux
Go here for the previous installment. There will be at least one more installment after this...possibly two or three depending on how I divide things. I feel a bit bad, because I can't for the life of me figure out how to make this proper paragraph form when it's in block quote form (actually, I don't even know if I can do it when it's not in block quote). If it's too hard to read, let me know though, and I'll figure out another way. Hope you all enjoy. **Editors Note: changed to a different font, because I'm apparently HTML disabled and can't figure out how it can look good in block quotations. I changed Part 1 too.
Jack knew he’d chosen not to do so before, but he loved the feeling of triumph at the desire in her voice. His cock twitched in anticipation as he moved the pillow from his lap.
At his first stroke, Katie let out of heartfelt moan. “Is that just for me?” she asked him, slipping two fingers inside of her slick passage and moving them in and out.
“You know it is. I want to fuck you right now, Katie.” She opened her mouth to reply, possibly encourage him to act on that, but he continued, “But I want to watch you come off by yourself first.”
Katie rubbed her clit with her other hand, and Jack noticed how she squirmed. It made him stroke himself harder, faster. “How would you fuck me, Jack?”
Jack wasn’t even sure he could answer right now. Katie shoving her fingers inside of herself, touching herself like she’d done when they’d been on the phone was making him crazed. He closed his eyes momentarily, not thinking about it, “I’d eat you out first. Lick your clit—you already know that mouths are better at it than fingers.” He smiled mischievously at her, reminding her of their phone conversation.
Katie whimpered, her body shivering, and leaned over on the bed, her fingers pumping faster inside her slick, wet walls. She braced herself on one arm.
Her head was close to Jack’s shoulder now, so close he could feel her breath puffing against his shoulder. Her mouth just inches from his throbbing cock.
“Do you want me inside you, Katie?” he whispered close to her ear, spreading the pre-come from his dick over the head and dangerously rubbing the sensitive underside of the head.
She whimpered again, “Yes. God yes!”
“Will you spread your legs farther for me? Let me deep inside you?” His hand was moving faster of its own accord, and he gritted his teeth against coming when Katie began running her hand over his thigh, up the side of his torso and over his chest, finally grasping him by his neck and pulling her body closer to his.
“I want you, Jack.”
He kissed her lightly, but she took over the kiss, pulling him to her and becoming the aggressor. Jack groaned when her tongue entered his mouth, running along the inside of his bottom lip—his entire body shook and he had to release his cock before he exploded.
“How much?” he teased, but he knew his face was taut with anticipation and frustration with the need for release.
She crawled further over him, and Jack hissed out his breath when he saw the desire in her eyes, her pupils dilated so much she looked crazed with lust.
Jack hadn’t noticed that she was straddling his leg, but when he felt the wetness of her fingers trail along his thigh he looked down, and completely lost his breath.
Katie lowered herself over his thigh, just above his knee and sat squarely on him, letting her heat and juices seep into the tenseness of his thigh.
Jack closed his eyes, cursing himself for not being able to watch without coming from the sight.
When he felt her move he fisted his hands at his sides. He could feel it all, the plumpness of her labia, the aroused protrusion of her clit, and the juices as they creamed from her sex. “I want you so much, Jack.” She whispered in his ear as she rode him, pressing hard into his thigh, the light breath breezing over his ear sending shivers through his body. “I want you inside of me. Pounding me. Stretching my body to its limit, until I’m screaming your name.”
“Jesus, woman. You’re going to kill me.”
Katie took hold of his hand and wrapped it around the base of his penis, seemingly re-teaching him how to touch himself. He’d forgotten how the moment that her pussy had touched his leg.
Who the hell was this sex kitten sitting on him? Pleasuring herself on him? He would have never guessed she could be like this when she was dressed like the girl-next-door. He couldn’t wait to find out what she’d do next.
Jack knew he’d chosen not to do so before, but he loved the feeling of triumph at the desire in her voice. His cock twitched in anticipation as he moved the pillow from his lap.
At his first stroke, Katie let out of heartfelt moan. “Is that just for me?” she asked him, slipping two fingers inside of her slick passage and moving them in and out.
“You know it is. I want to fuck you right now, Katie.” She opened her mouth to reply, possibly encourage him to act on that, but he continued, “But I want to watch you come off by yourself first.”
Katie rubbed her clit with her other hand, and Jack noticed how she squirmed. It made him stroke himself harder, faster. “How would you fuck me, Jack?”
Jack wasn’t even sure he could answer right now. Katie shoving her fingers inside of herself, touching herself like she’d done when they’d been on the phone was making him crazed. He closed his eyes momentarily, not thinking about it, “I’d eat you out first. Lick your clit—you already know that mouths are better at it than fingers.” He smiled mischievously at her, reminding her of their phone conversation.
Katie whimpered, her body shivering, and leaned over on the bed, her fingers pumping faster inside her slick, wet walls. She braced herself on one arm.
Her head was close to Jack’s shoulder now, so close he could feel her breath puffing against his shoulder. Her mouth just inches from his throbbing cock.
“Do you want me inside you, Katie?” he whispered close to her ear, spreading the pre-come from his dick over the head and dangerously rubbing the sensitive underside of the head.
She whimpered again, “Yes. God yes!”
“Will you spread your legs farther for me? Let me deep inside you?” His hand was moving faster of its own accord, and he gritted his teeth against coming when Katie began running her hand over his thigh, up the side of his torso and over his chest, finally grasping him by his neck and pulling her body closer to his.
“I want you, Jack.”
He kissed her lightly, but she took over the kiss, pulling him to her and becoming the aggressor. Jack groaned when her tongue entered his mouth, running along the inside of his bottom lip—his entire body shook and he had to release his cock before he exploded.
“How much?” he teased, but he knew his face was taut with anticipation and frustration with the need for release.
She crawled further over him, and Jack hissed out his breath when he saw the desire in her eyes, her pupils dilated so much she looked crazed with lust.
Jack hadn’t noticed that she was straddling his leg, but when he felt the wetness of her fingers trail along his thigh he looked down, and completely lost his breath.
Katie lowered herself over his thigh, just above his knee and sat squarely on him, letting her heat and juices seep into the tenseness of his thigh.
Jack closed his eyes, cursing himself for not being able to watch without coming from the sight.
When he felt her move he fisted his hands at his sides. He could feel it all, the plumpness of her labia, the aroused protrusion of her clit, and the juices as they creamed from her sex. “I want you so much, Jack.” She whispered in his ear as she rode him, pressing hard into his thigh, the light breath breezing over his ear sending shivers through his body. “I want you inside of me. Pounding me. Stretching my body to its limit, until I’m screaming your name.”
“Jesus, woman. You’re going to kill me.”
Katie took hold of his hand and wrapped it around the base of his penis, seemingly re-teaching him how to touch himself. He’d forgotten how the moment that her pussy had touched his leg.
Who the hell was this sex kitten sitting on him? Pleasuring herself on him? He would have never guessed she could be like this when she was dressed like the girl-next-door. He couldn’t wait to find out what she’d do next.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
PS Operator Part 1
This is the "computer" name of my book. Not the part 1 part, but "PS Operator." Clearly, that will not be the actual title. Anyway, I am fairly excited because I've just finished a fairly important sex scene that I've been struggling with a bit. It's based on one of my own fantasies, of masturbating in front of a guy, while he is masturbating as well. At first, I thought it would be fairly straightforward, but like any good scene the characters took me a little farther, a little better than where I originally thought I would be.
I'll tell you something, I'm damned nervous about sharing this scene. Mainly because I almost never share anything with anyone until I have a full draft finished--I'm just weird about that. But I guess I'm feeling a little high flying after being chosen in the Bam October Contest (shameless plug, GO VOTE FOR ME!). I wanted to see if it was hot though, frankly. I thought so last night, because my legs started spreading of their own volition, but my turn-on switch has been on the fritz, so maybe I'm wrong. So, here is part 1 of PS Operator Sex Scene (god, help me):
“Are you ticklish?” Surprising.
“No!” she lied. Hmm, something to remember.
Jack kissed across her stomach and through the trimmed thatch of curls into the slickness of her slit. He inhaled deeply, smelling the musky combination of their sex. Gently, he parted her folds with his thumbs and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her lips, licking and tasting her juices already creaming slowly for him.
Katie’s body jumped and she ground her bottom against the sheets.
“Better?”
“Unh.”
Jack smiled as he lapped at her further, teasing her clit very lightly, knowing she was sensitive and carefully tending to her.
“Tell me how I made you come the other night Katie. Show me what you did to yourself.”
He lifted away from her completely, biting back a smile when she whimpered. The woman was far too good for a guy’s ego.
He hadn’t necessarily thought about this beforehand, but he realized he wanted to see her, tucking her fingers inside her body, massaging her clit and viewing everything that before he’d only been able to hear over the phone. It had been intense then, he couldn’t wait to play voyeur to it now.
Assuming she agreed.
“Show me,” he said again. He settled at the end of the bed, glad for the footboard, and placed a pillow over his hard-on. He wasn’t usually modest, but he couldn’t trust himself not to touch without something barring him the ability.
“Y-you want me to…?” Pink crawled across her neck and cheeks, but she didn’t seem to dislike the idea.
Hmm, another surprise. The lady has some kinks. As if he’d had a doubt, she was a phone sex operator after all. The sweet demeanor probably hid a lot of sins that cops weren’t allowed to look for in their background checks. Secrets were secrets for a reason.
Jack saw she was intrigued, but she seemed to need a little help. “Are you touching yourself?”
Katie gasped, her eyes widening with excitement, and her fingers loosened from the strangle-hold they had on each other. Jack noticed the slight shaking of her hands as they moved across her soft stomach and he bit back a groan, making fists so he didn’t reach for her.
He knew now how soft her skin was and he liked the taste of it, the touch of it, too much.
So slowly he thought he’d come with the anticipation, Katie’s hands moved lower, parting the soft, plump lips of her sex, leaning back until he could see her wetness, slicking her pussy and spreading further as she flicked a moist finger against her clit.
“Are you touching yourself, Katie?” he repeated, wanting to hear her words too. Something about her voice drove him wild.
“Yes,” she finally rasped and looked at his crotch, as if waiting for him to do the same. He wanted her to talk to him though, so he waited to stroke himself.
“Tell me how it feels.” He gulped when one of her long fingers dipped inside of her, gathering more of her juices.
“Wet. Just hearing you, seeing you, makes me wet,” she replied. Katie’s hips were moving, a slow grind against her fingers teasing the hard bud of her clit. He still sat a couple feet from her, but he saw everything—every shiver of her body, the sheen of sweat that broke on her forehead and between her breasts…and still he had to stop himself from moving closer, from licking her body up, down, and sideways.
“Touch yourself, Jack.”
There, it's done. Maybe for a bit of background: "Katie" is a phone sex operator, and a PhD student (no, not even close to based on my life). "Jack" is a cop, investigating the company she works for. That's all I'll give you for now. There WILL be around four parts--this is only a couple short "pages" of text--and I've got about eight pages of this scene (so, it could be 3, it could be 5).
Really hope you guys like it. After all, ya'll are better experts on sex than I am. :-)
I'll tell you something, I'm damned nervous about sharing this scene. Mainly because I almost never share anything with anyone until I have a full draft finished--I'm just weird about that. But I guess I'm feeling a little high flying after being chosen in the Bam October Contest (shameless plug, GO VOTE FOR ME!). I wanted to see if it was hot though, frankly. I thought so last night, because my legs started spreading of their own volition, but my turn-on switch has been on the fritz, so maybe I'm wrong. So, here is part 1 of PS Operator Sex Scene (god, help me):
“Are you ticklish?” Surprising.
“No!” she lied. Hmm, something to remember.
Jack kissed across her stomach and through the trimmed thatch of curls into the slickness of her slit. He inhaled deeply, smelling the musky combination of their sex. Gently, he parted her folds with his thumbs and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her lips, licking and tasting her juices already creaming slowly for him.
Katie’s body jumped and she ground her bottom against the sheets.
“Better?”
“Unh.”
Jack smiled as he lapped at her further, teasing her clit very lightly, knowing she was sensitive and carefully tending to her.
“Tell me how I made you come the other night Katie. Show me what you did to yourself.”
He lifted away from her completely, biting back a smile when she whimpered. The woman was far too good for a guy’s ego.
He hadn’t necessarily thought about this beforehand, but he realized he wanted to see her, tucking her fingers inside her body, massaging her clit and viewing everything that before he’d only been able to hear over the phone. It had been intense then, he couldn’t wait to play voyeur to it now.
Assuming she agreed.
“Show me,” he said again. He settled at the end of the bed, glad for the footboard, and placed a pillow over his hard-on. He wasn’t usually modest, but he couldn’t trust himself not to touch without something barring him the ability.
“Y-you want me to…?” Pink crawled across her neck and cheeks, but she didn’t seem to dislike the idea.
Hmm, another surprise. The lady has some kinks. As if he’d had a doubt, she was a phone sex operator after all. The sweet demeanor probably hid a lot of sins that cops weren’t allowed to look for in their background checks. Secrets were secrets for a reason.
Jack saw she was intrigued, but she seemed to need a little help. “Are you touching yourself?”
Katie gasped, her eyes widening with excitement, and her fingers loosened from the strangle-hold they had on each other. Jack noticed the slight shaking of her hands as they moved across her soft stomach and he bit back a groan, making fists so he didn’t reach for her.
He knew now how soft her skin was and he liked the taste of it, the touch of it, too much.
So slowly he thought he’d come with the anticipation, Katie’s hands moved lower, parting the soft, plump lips of her sex, leaning back until he could see her wetness, slicking her pussy and spreading further as she flicked a moist finger against her clit.
“Are you touching yourself, Katie?” he repeated, wanting to hear her words too. Something about her voice drove him wild.
“Yes,” she finally rasped and looked at his crotch, as if waiting for him to do the same. He wanted her to talk to him though, so he waited to stroke himself.
“Tell me how it feels.” He gulped when one of her long fingers dipped inside of her, gathering more of her juices.
“Wet. Just hearing you, seeing you, makes me wet,” she replied. Katie’s hips were moving, a slow grind against her fingers teasing the hard bud of her clit. He still sat a couple feet from her, but he saw everything—every shiver of her body, the sheen of sweat that broke on her forehead and between her breasts…and still he had to stop himself from moving closer, from licking her body up, down, and sideways.
“Touch yourself, Jack.”
There, it's done. Maybe for a bit of background: "Katie" is a phone sex operator, and a PhD student (no, not even close to based on my life). "Jack" is a cop, investigating the company she works for. That's all I'll give you for now. There WILL be around four parts--this is only a couple short "pages" of text--and I've got about eight pages of this scene (so, it could be 3, it could be 5).
Really hope you guys like it. After all, ya'll are better experts on sex than I am. :-)
Monday, October 22, 2007
So excited at 7:30 am!
Yay!!! I was chosen as a finalist on the Dionne Galace (aka Bam) website, for her Kick-Ass Heroine Contest. The premise was to write a heroine who saves the hero, rather than the other way around. Had to be under 400 words, and could be either from something else that one was writing, or just it's own little scene. Mine was just my own little scene, you can see it at the link.
Go vote for me!
Yayyyyyyy!!!!!!!! Okay, I'm going back to bed for awhile. LOVE not having class until 1:30!
Go vote for me!
Yayyyyyyy!!!!!!!! Okay, I'm going back to bed for awhile. LOVE not having class until 1:30!
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Lake Wobegone
Yes. Yes, I am from the world of Lake Wobegone and Garrison Keillor. The funny thing about Minnesota is that it has a reputation--or rather, Minnesotans do--as "Minnesota nice." If you have been so fortunate as to have never heard this term before, it is sort of the equivalent of what Mayberry, USA (of the Andy Griffith Show) or Small Town, USA ifyouwill, is supposed to be...en masse. We are supposed to be a welcoming bunch, who always have a smile and a friendly thought for others, especially newcomers.
This is all lies. Minnesota does not have anymore people that are nice than anywhere else in the world...we're just better at pretending that we're nice. Which frankly doesn't exactly speak that highly of us, because it implies that we are fake. And...we kind of are. Not necessarily in a bad way, but we really, really, really want to be liked by the rest of the world. We have the Mall of America for chrissakes! If that doesn't scream, "Like me! Like me!" I'm not sure what does.
But, of course, this is a stereotype--like that all New Yorkers are mean, or all Californians are surfers. I know plenty of New Yorkers who are most definitely NOT mean (in fact, I can't think of any mean New Yorkers that I know), and I know plenty of Californians...wait, actually the only Californians I know are surfer-types so that doesn't work. But you get my point.
And I do have a point. Mainly, this point is that I know a great number of nice Minnesotans--in fact, I attend school with a lot of them. Now, it may be that they are simply humoring me, but for the most part I actually get the feeling that the people I know really do find it impressive that I am writing a novel....
...and a damned surprising number of my classmates know this. I don't even know how it happened, because I know that I am not the one who has been telling them about this. I told three or four people and now random people (well, at least they are still people whom I know) are coming up to me and asking, "How is your manuscript coming?" And I'm honestly so confused when they ask that I think they are talking about lawyering skills (the law school writing class) until I finally realize, "Are they talking about my book?"
And they are. One guy, yesterday, asked to see what I was reading (a historical romance by Stephanie Laurens--whom I love), and I told him he'd laugh, but he said, "Oh please, you should see all the crap I read this summer." So, I showed him (and there is a smallish bodice-ripper picture on the front) and he, naturally, said, "Oh, that is way trashier." Then asked about my "manuscript." After I finally realized he was talking about my book, he offered himself as a copy-editor once it was done.
I was shocked, frankly. Most people say, "I can't wait 'till you're done, I want to read it." But I don't really take them totally seriously, but for some reason offering himself to edit it was slightly surprising. But it was also very nice. And it's really nice that at least some of the people I talk to actually do seem like they want to read it once it's done. Maybe I need to take them more seriously after all.
In other news, I found out there is actually something called an Orgasmatron.
Ask me how :-)
This is all lies. Minnesota does not have anymore people that are nice than anywhere else in the world...we're just better at pretending that we're nice. Which frankly doesn't exactly speak that highly of us, because it implies that we are fake. And...we kind of are. Not necessarily in a bad way, but we really, really, really want to be liked by the rest of the world. We have the Mall of America for chrissakes! If that doesn't scream, "Like me! Like me!" I'm not sure what does.
But, of course, this is a stereotype--like that all New Yorkers are mean, or all Californians are surfers. I know plenty of New Yorkers who are most definitely NOT mean (in fact, I can't think of any mean New Yorkers that I know), and I know plenty of Californians...wait, actually the only Californians I know are surfer-types so that doesn't work. But you get my point.
And I do have a point. Mainly, this point is that I know a great number of nice Minnesotans--in fact, I attend school with a lot of them. Now, it may be that they are simply humoring me, but for the most part I actually get the feeling that the people I know really do find it impressive that I am writing a novel....
...and a damned surprising number of my classmates know this. I don't even know how it happened, because I know that I am not the one who has been telling them about this. I told three or four people and now random people (well, at least they are still people whom I know) are coming up to me and asking, "How is your manuscript coming?" And I'm honestly so confused when they ask that I think they are talking about lawyering skills (the law school writing class) until I finally realize, "Are they talking about my book?"
And they are. One guy, yesterday, asked to see what I was reading (a historical romance by Stephanie Laurens--whom I love), and I told him he'd laugh, but he said, "Oh please, you should see all the crap I read this summer." So, I showed him (and there is a smallish bodice-ripper picture on the front) and he, naturally, said, "Oh, that is way trashier." Then asked about my "manuscript." After I finally realized he was talking about my book, he offered himself as a copy-editor once it was done.
I was shocked, frankly. Most people say, "I can't wait 'till you're done, I want to read it." But I don't really take them totally seriously, but for some reason offering himself to edit it was slightly surprising. But it was also very nice. And it's really nice that at least some of the people I talk to actually do seem like they want to read it once it's done. Maybe I need to take them more seriously after all.
In other news, I found out there is actually something called an Orgasmatron.
Ask me how :-)
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Mildly dirty...
I just wrote a lengthy sex scene for my book, while watching My Little Pony on DVD*. It was the original series, which I totally loved.
But, I still felt mildly dirty at the innocence of the show and the dirtiness of the scene. I had to laugh at myself.**
:-)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*I rented the DVD from Netflix...I was stupidly excited when I found out they had it. Now if I could only find the original "Strawberry Shortcake" movies. I always made my dad rent those for me when I was sick as a little girl.
**Okay, not sure which was worse, I watched Law & Order: Special Victims Unit just now while I was still writing...felt mildly dirty for a whole other reason. I gotta stop watching television when I'm writing.
But, I still felt mildly dirty at the innocence of the show and the dirtiness of the scene. I had to laugh at myself.**
:-)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*I rented the DVD from Netflix...I was stupidly excited when I found out they had it. Now if I could only find the original "Strawberry Shortcake" movies. I always made my dad rent those for me when I was sick as a little girl.
**Okay, not sure which was worse, I watched Law & Order: Special Victims Unit just now while I was still writing...felt mildly dirty for a whole other reason. I gotta stop watching television when I'm writing.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Writing...
I just realized that the last blog was really the equivalent of three...I'm telling you, I'm about the most long-winded person I know. When I get on a story-telling spree, watch out! And I didn't even break it up with a picture...although I don't really do pictures yet, so that's probably why.
Good news for the week (no, sadly not about my laptop): I've been fairly "writy" this week. Yep, know that isn't a word. Yep, I was an English major. Yep, still don't give a damn.
Not only have I been writing on my best-chance-and-actually-finishing-something fairly regularly (helped not having a laptop in class actually--I was just writing on paper, much slower, but I literally couldn't figure out how to take notes in a notebook anymore), as well as having some ingenious moments with another piece that I've been working occasionally on (there are lots).
Only problem? I'm having some problems writing scenes with kissing. Now, this is a bit weird because I have absolutely no problem writing awesome, raunchy sex...kissing, not so much. I've actually started dreaming about kissing people I know, probably my subconscious trying to remind me of what kissing it actually like so I can write about it. It's been awhile. Okay, it's been years really.
Hmm, sometimes I hate the inexperience that goes along with inexperience. I remember trying to poll my friends one night when I was (I should clarify that...when we were) drunk last year, and we ended up trying to poll the bartenders at the bar we were at, as well. Probably not my most brilliant moment, especially since while they could tell me what was good and bad about a kiss (i.e., sloppiness=bad, a little wetness=good, sort of common sense there) they couldn't really describe one either.
Hmm...something to ponder while board in class this week. :-)
Good news for the week (no, sadly not about my laptop): I've been fairly "writy" this week. Yep, know that isn't a word. Yep, I was an English major. Yep, still don't give a damn.
Not only have I been writing on my best-chance-and-actually-finishing-something fairly regularly (helped not having a laptop in class actually--I was just writing on paper, much slower, but I literally couldn't figure out how to take notes in a notebook anymore), as well as having some ingenious moments with another piece that I've been working occasionally on (there are lots).
Only problem? I'm having some problems writing scenes with kissing. Now, this is a bit weird because I have absolutely no problem writing awesome, raunchy sex...kissing, not so much. I've actually started dreaming about kissing people I know, probably my subconscious trying to remind me of what kissing it actually like so I can write about it. It's been awhile. Okay, it's been years really.
Hmm, sometimes I hate the inexperience that goes along with inexperience. I remember trying to poll my friends one night when I was (I should clarify that...when we were) drunk last year, and we ended up trying to poll the bartenders at the bar we were at, as well. Probably not my most brilliant moment, especially since while they could tell me what was good and bad about a kiss (i.e., sloppiness=bad, a little wetness=good, sort of common sense there) they couldn't really describe one either.
Hmm...something to ponder while board in class this week. :-)
Monday, July 30, 2007
Okay, so I changed my mind...
Remember in the last post, when I said I wouldn't probably post anything of my writing? Well, I changed my mind...sort of. This isn't actually from a story, but it is from one of the "grand plans" I tend to lose myself in, in my own personal, fictional world. I imagine that once I'm a big, bad lawyer/uber-successful romance author I will have a lovely place to live by myself for awhile. I'll own a penthouse-style apartment with three bedrooms--one will be Asian-inspired, one will be inspired by Carnevale in Venice, and then the Master Bedroom--the master will be luxury on a plate. Half-bordello, half-sanctuary. Chocolate walls with metallic gold writing on the walls...one of the writings will be this:
Watch me. I’ll watch you. Watch the first touch of my body, softly caressing, quickly arousing until I’m touching the perfect spot on my body guaranteed to make me scream, rubbing slowly to build a slow, slow burn. I want you to touch yourself. Already hard, move your hand against the rigid length and pretend it’s my body deftly squeezing you and pulling your body into mine. It entrances me, watching the silky glide of rough, calloused fingers against skin both smooth yet so rigid, so beautifully formed. I would taste, but I dare not get that close, I only want to watch for now. I can see that glistening bead at the tip as I continue to move my fingers against myself, across the soft lips of my sex feeling my arousal grow the longer I watch you. Your thumb moves across that glossy drop that I know tastes salty but oh, so sweet. It’s almost too much, and I can feel that ecstasy overtaking, pushing me over that perfect precipice and into oblivion, but still I watch you. I watch, uninhibited feeling my pupils widen, my body tighten when I see your abs spasm, your hand grip your cock harder and as I watch you come thick and relentless against your hand I lose my grasp on sanity and call out your name.
I wrote that when I thought up the concept of a room like that. Watching a man masturbate turns me on, I don't know why, but it's a fantasy of mine. Hope you like ;-)
Watch me. I’ll watch you. Watch the first touch of my body, softly caressing, quickly arousing until I’m touching the perfect spot on my body guaranteed to make me scream, rubbing slowly to build a slow, slow burn. I want you to touch yourself. Already hard, move your hand against the rigid length and pretend it’s my body deftly squeezing you and pulling your body into mine. It entrances me, watching the silky glide of rough, calloused fingers against skin both smooth yet so rigid, so beautifully formed. I would taste, but I dare not get that close, I only want to watch for now. I can see that glistening bead at the tip as I continue to move my fingers against myself, across the soft lips of my sex feeling my arousal grow the longer I watch you. Your thumb moves across that glossy drop that I know tastes salty but oh, so sweet. It’s almost too much, and I can feel that ecstasy overtaking, pushing me over that perfect precipice and into oblivion, but still I watch you. I watch, uninhibited feeling my pupils widen, my body tighten when I see your abs spasm, your hand grip your cock harder and as I watch you come thick and relentless against your hand I lose my grasp on sanity and call out your name.
I wrote that when I thought up the concept of a room like that. Watching a man masturbate turns me on, I don't know why, but it's a fantasy of mine. Hope you like ;-)
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The literary aspect...
So, I realized I mentioned this in my original post about why the heck I'm blogging in the first place, but I simultaneously realized that I haven't actually written anything about it since.
What the heck am I talking about?
My "literary" awakening. I figure, it's good to break things up a bit--I've just spoken about porn for the last two blogs (I believe we've established that I quite love the stuff), so maybe I should mention some of my own "porn."
No, I'm not in any porn, but my friends all like to joke that that is what I write. In reality, it's more on the romance side. The romantica/erotica side in some cases, but it is still all about the romance.
I have a minor (possibly major) obsession with reading. I wish I were one of those people who can get lost in literally anything, be it fiction, non-fiction stories/memoires, history, biography, travel, cooking, etc. Yes, I do like some of those things in varying doses, but what I really love is fiction. All fiction (well except horror really, but I have some issues with horror anything). I've read "chick lit" (aka Romance Lite) since the end of high school probably. But a little over a year ago I made the scary leap to romance. And Jesu I've never looked back.
I was really embarrassed by my love of romance, but I'm sort of surprised by this because I've always been a complete and utter romantic at heart. Unfortunately, I was an English major and romance is not always looked upon as a viable genre when you are reading books by Dostoyevsky and Dickens. But frankly? I need a little romance to counteract those guys.
I've probably gathered more than 300 romance/erotica/romantica novels and eBooks in the last year. In fact, I'd actually guess that it is more than 400. I read really, really fast. I just can't put them down.
So, since I have a serious love of these books and since, since I was little (we're talking 5 or 6), I have loved to write any and everything (my cousins and I used to write plays--best one I wrote, and still have--"Return of Malificent's Crow: Malyshane's Revenge"--I was 10, and "Sleeping Beauty" was my favorite movie) I decided that I want to write romance novels. In high school it was the Next Great American Novel--then I read the Great American Novels and am more than slightly intimidated by them, I don't think I can think that deeply on paper. In college I wanted to write Chick Lit, because it was still in the fiction isle. Now I'm gung-ho about romance, and I'm pretty sure I will remain so.
But, I'm a law student, how can this be? Trust me, I've become more determined since entering law school than you'd imagine. In fact, there is a reason why I got the grades I got in law school my first year--mainly because I was writing my novels IN CLASS.
I doubt I'll post anything on here of what I'm actually writing, but I guess we'll see. I'm horrid at short stories and mini-fiction, so I tend to write in lengthy scenes...but maybe one day you'll see a post.
So that is my literary awakening. Coming soon to a bookstore near you (hopefully, one day).
What the heck am I talking about?
My "literary" awakening. I figure, it's good to break things up a bit--I've just spoken about porn for the last two blogs (I believe we've established that I quite love the stuff), so maybe I should mention some of my own "porn."
No, I'm not in any porn, but my friends all like to joke that that is what I write. In reality, it's more on the romance side. The romantica/erotica side in some cases, but it is still all about the romance.
I have a minor (possibly major) obsession with reading. I wish I were one of those people who can get lost in literally anything, be it fiction, non-fiction stories/memoires, history, biography, travel, cooking, etc. Yes, I do like some of those things in varying doses, but what I really love is fiction. All fiction (well except horror really, but I have some issues with horror anything). I've read "chick lit" (aka Romance Lite) since the end of high school probably. But a little over a year ago I made the scary leap to romance. And Jesu I've never looked back.
I was really embarrassed by my love of romance, but I'm sort of surprised by this because I've always been a complete and utter romantic at heart. Unfortunately, I was an English major and romance is not always looked upon as a viable genre when you are reading books by Dostoyevsky and Dickens. But frankly? I need a little romance to counteract those guys.
I've probably gathered more than 300 romance/erotica/romantica novels and eBooks in the last year. In fact, I'd actually guess that it is more than 400. I read really, really fast. I just can't put them down.
So, since I have a serious love of these books and since, since I was little (we're talking 5 or 6), I have loved to write any and everything (my cousins and I used to write plays--best one I wrote, and still have--"Return of Malificent's Crow: Malyshane's Revenge"--I was 10, and "Sleeping Beauty" was my favorite movie) I decided that I want to write romance novels. In high school it was the Next Great American Novel--then I read the Great American Novels and am more than slightly intimidated by them, I don't think I can think that deeply on paper. In college I wanted to write Chick Lit, because it was still in the fiction isle. Now I'm gung-ho about romance, and I'm pretty sure I will remain so.
But, I'm a law student, how can this be? Trust me, I've become more determined since entering law school than you'd imagine. In fact, there is a reason why I got the grades I got in law school my first year--mainly because I was writing my novels IN CLASS.
I doubt I'll post anything on here of what I'm actually writing, but I guess we'll see. I'm horrid at short stories and mini-fiction, so I tend to write in lengthy scenes...but maybe one day you'll see a post.
So that is my literary awakening. Coming soon to a bookstore near you (hopefully, one day).
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