Adventures in Writing: Time Moves Fast

Where Did It All Go?

It seems like time is just flying by. Sometimes, I wonder if the super massive black hole at the center of our galaxy is sucking in the time that I feel I’m missing. I want to move a little closer to it, just a smidge mind you, so that time can slow down just a wee bit.

(Yes, ‘just a wee bit’ seems to be my favorite phrase lately. It’s crazy.)

Vacation time first appeared to be forever-away, never to be truly gained. And then, BAM! Here it was and let me tell you, I was packing right up to the moment we left. And I even told them “I’m going to keep putting clothing in this bag until you tell me to stop and drag me out of the house.” I meant it, too.

And things slowed down. Literally. Everything was 2 minutes slower thanks to those silly clocks all being slower. Life felt relaxed and calm. I couldn’t sleep in to save my life, but I didn’t mind. It gave me some quiet time to think and drink my coffee and try to write down my thoughts.

Now, I’m back to work. Things aren’t crazy, but they are going to be getting crazy. Next week we have people coming into the office and there will be meetings. Surprisingly, I’m only in one. Which is also excellent. I hate meetings. These meetings have an actual purpose, so I don’t have issues with it. I hate meetings that are created to waste time.

Broken Promises

I think I am making too many promises to myself and others. I have an excellent story for Masturbation Monday that I want to write. The idea is itching my brain. My muse is giving me dirty looks because I haven’t written it yet. I can’t figure out which way I should write it. It’s going to be a little like Obey. It’ll also be more geared towards men. I’ve had some interest in an Obey-type story specifically for men, so they will have it. I wanted it to be done and up by now. And yet, I have to write it first.

I don’t want to break that promise to my readers or myself. I’m going to reread over Obey and the comments I received. I know many people enjoyed it, the aspect of being told what to do, of a contract signed, of the potential to either continue following orders or safe word.

(Obviously the safe word for a story would be to click the X on the website, or return home and find something else to read.)

So, please, just give me a little more time. I want to rock your world. I want you to touch yourself without even realizing what you’re doing. I want it to feel so natural and right. That means getting the words down and making them work not just for me, but also for you. I won’t break my promise. The story is coming.

What are you working on? How are things going in your life? Remember to stop and breathe, to drink water, to eat, and to take care of yourself. If you don’t, you’ll not be able to take care of your loved ones as well. Stay Tuned – there’s always more to come.

Did you enjoy Fucked by the Fire in the Public Affairs Bundle? Check out my story on Radish Fiction called Zach and Roman take a Vacation under the Naked and Wanking section.

A Penny for Your Thoughts: Returning to Reality

Well, my vacation in the mountains is officially over. I’m sure you think I’m going to brag about how much writing I have gotten accomplished. Well, I’m not. Other than the Thanksgiving post below this one and a few paragraphs here and there, nothing-nada-zilch.

According to Kayla, the Smutlancer, this is okay. I’ll be completely refreshed and full of ideas. I honestly hope the ideas start flowing. I slept like a rock more often than not – literally – not a care in the world and no pesky dreams either. Which worries me. Why am I not remembering my dreams at all? My fitbit says I’m dreaming, but anyway.

I wanted to attach a snap video of the fog outside the balcony, but it won’t support the media file. Let’s just say I can barely see the mountains behind the fog. And the people driving up and down the mountain should consider slowing down.

Things you need to do if you vacation in Sevierville:

  1. Rent a cabin (preferably with a pool and further off the road).
  2. Eat at Paula Deen’s. It doesn’t matter what you think of her, the food is incredible.
  3. Drive around and see the sights. There’s so much to do, you won’t get it all done. Not even when you’re here for a week.
  4. Take the trolley. It only costs 50 cents per person and saves you money on parking.
  5. Talk to people. Talk to the locals. Talk to others vacationing. You learn some great things.
  6. Don’t try to cram everything into one day.
  7. Walk up Clingman’s Dome, but take water and take your breaks. It’s a hell of a climb, even for people who are in shape.
  8. Make sure you make a list of things to pack prior to going to the mountains and renting a cabin – they only provide so much. (Our cabin was said to sleep 8 – which it could, but it didn’t have enough cutlery and so forth.)
  9. Don’t leave your party members when on trails – they might be eaten by a bear. (I’m only somewhat joking here.)

I’m sure there are more tips that I can give you. I plan on working things that happened into stories over time. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Like leaving ya’ll Easter eggs or something. (See, I got a lil southern on you there.)

These photos are from Clingman’s Dome. It’s worth walking up the path (paved, by the way) to get to the viewing point. I would love to do this again earlier in the fall when the leaves are bright and colorful and sometime in early spring when they are fresh and the brightest of green.

Yes, I’ll definitely go back at some point in the future. It’ll be worth it, because I still haven’t seen everything. There are also trails here that I want to follow and see where they take me. What thoughts they might generate while wandering them.

Most people want to go to the beach and sit in the sun and sand on vacation, and while I do have plans for that in the future, this was definitely an amazing vacation. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.

And now to return to reality. Back to the day job. Back to running errands. And, the best of all, back to writing. I hope you’ll continue to stop by and read all the delicious treats I have in mind. But first, laundry. There’s always laundry, even if you’ve brought home clean clothing.


A Penny for Your Thoughts: Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving to those of us in the US. For everyone else: Feel free to jump on the thanksgiving bandwagon. Have a random feast with family you can’t stand (or love to hate) and hash out all those silly differences over booze and turkey. For those traveling this holiday: I hope that your family was able to make it to you safely. I’m officially drinking vacation coffee. For some reason, I think it tastes a little soapy, which doesn’t make sense. I brought my carafe, my cup, my everything. Weird, right?

I’ve run away to the Smokey Mountains. And now I’ve gotten a new cup of coffee. That last one really did taste like soap. Blech. No idea why. This is live-posting right here folks. You might not be reading along while I write and fix typos, but I suppose for now, this is as close as it gets.

We left around 4 in the morning and arrived around 4 in the afternoon. Yep, 12 hours, including stops along the way. My coworkers are all jealous. My daughter is jealous. The first thing we did after getting here was, well choose sleeping spots and put food away. The second thing we did was change into our swimsuits and sit in the hot tub. It was perfect. Cold as fuck, but perfect. (And by cold as fuck, I mean a chilly 50 degrees.) (Not the hot tub, silly, we turned that up to 104 degrees.)

I noticed something right away. All time is off by two minutes. The rental car – two minutes slow. The clocks here in the cabin, two minutes slow! It’s crazy. When you aren’t on vacation the rest of the world moves 2 minutes faster. That’s my theory anyway. It’s Science!

A lot can happen in two minutes!

You’re all still out there, right?

Uhh, anyway.

I wasn’t the first one to officially wake up, well, perhaps I was. I originally woke up at 615. Stupid brain. I turned over and went back to sleep. I am the official first person up, though. And while I am trying to type slower, this keyboard sounds so loud, though the clicking of the timer on the fireplace (yeah, timer) is louder. Everything echoes. Everything. Every move, every squeak of floorboard. It’ll take a little getting used to.

I’m up due to my head. I’m not sure if it’s allergies or caffeine withdrawal or a combination of the two. I took some drugs (the legal kind) and then made coffee. It seems to be dissipating. If my sinuses keep acting up, I’ll pop my last allergy pill. Yep, just the one. Allergies stopped where I live, soooo….. yeah.

I know that you’re supposed to sleep in on vacation. But we went to bed at like 9pm. I can only “sleep” so much. I haven’t synced my fitbit yet to see what kind of sleep I got. The mattress is nice. I’m definitely considering a firmer mattress for my next purchase.

This is my first official vacation since 1999. Yeah. Do the math again. I mean official vacation because I’ve gone somewhere. I’ve also left the state, which makes it even more official. My last vacation was a lovely 9 day jaunt in Arizona. Oh that sun. That heat. And the chilly nights. Good memories.

Hang on, don’t go anywhere, I’m going to try and get a photo of the sun off the balcony. Let’s hope I can open the door. (The doors don’t like me here. Well, actually, I need to kick in my inner sadist – the doors like to be roughed up.)

We’re also pretty sure this place is haunted. I’m going to buy a giant bag of rock salt. (I might be kidding, I might not be kidding – who’s to say?)

Today we are going to try to have Thanksgiving Brunch or Dinner at Paula Deen’s in Pigeon Forge. We do have second and third dinner plans if that fails. Okay, I’m going to sign off. Pay attention to Twitter as I may  (will) be tweeting photos now and again. You’re not following me? Why wouldn’t you follow me? I’ll lead you to the Smutty Goodness Garden. It’s like that other garden, but much more fun and naughty.

Masturbation Monday: Pickled in the Middle

Aha! Here it is you smut lovers – Part Three of Live Action Mannequin. Enjoy how well Ronnie and Lawrence work together to get Betsy blissed out. Oh, apologies to those coming from Masturbation Monday – I forgot to post the link to Juicy Bits, so if you missed it – read that first. 

Opening my eyes, I realize Ronnie is gone and slipping out of the door. Lawrence doesn’t stop what he’s doing and it feels so amazing. I can’t help myself and grab him by the hair to shove his face deeper into my snatch. “Oh yeah, tongue-fuck me, Lawrence.”

Ronnie bounces back onto the bed and sucks one of my tits into her hot mouth. I shake and shimmy against the super soft sheets, moaning, eyes rolling in bliss, but still not getting to that happy place I desperately want to be.

“Betsy, my sweet, I want you to experience something glorious tonight.” Ronnie has a glint in her eyes that I know all too well. She’s about to push my boundaries. At this point, I’ll do anything she wants to get off. She switches to my other tit and this time nibbles on the sensitive skin. Nerves flare to life and sizzle through my body.

“Yes, please, oh fuck yes. Anything!” I’m begging and screaming now. Lawrence backs off at the same time as Ronnie and the devious grins on their face almost put me off. They’ve been plotting something in their time alone.

“I want you double-stuffed.” Ronnie pulls out one of our favorite strap-on dildos and attaches it to the thong she’s wearing. She must have put it on while out of the room.

“Double-stuffed?” The blissful edge goes away and Lawrence reaches out to pinch my nipples with a gentle touch. Pinch, release, pinch, release. I’m squirming again and press my chest into his fingers. “Oooh, that’s so good. Don’t stop.”

Ronnie leans down and pets my hair. “Baby, will you do this for me? I want you to feel how amazing Lawrence fucks. I want you to feel what I feel when he fucks me. And I want to get you stuffed so full of him and our favorite toy that you work off all this stress.” She has that look in her eye, the one that pleads with me to do this one thing for her. I love her, I’d do anything for her. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a real cock inside me. I didn’t really need it, I had Ronnie.

“Yes, Ronnie, for you, yes.” She squeals and pulls out the big bottle of lube. I didn’t know she’d wanted to do this and I couldn’t understand why she hadn’t told me before. Seeing her happy and the way she stroked the dildo excited me all over again.

“Good lord, you taste so good. Your skin, it’s like a delicacy.” Lawrence kept nibbling here and there along my body. Along my ribs, down my belly and back between my thighs. “Your pussy is going to feel incredible on my cock.

“Here’s the lube.” Ronnie hands it over the Lawrence. He slides off the bed with a flourish and gives us a teasing dance while taking his pants off. By the time he’s done, we’re giggling with tears in our eyes. When he crawls back into the bed, cock in one hand, lube in the other, Ronnie and I squeal in delight.

“Open up and say ahh, Betsy.” Ronnie helped Lawrence lift and open my legs nice and wide. “I’ll get you back to that edge you were enjoying so well earlier, sweetness. And then Ronnie will fill your ass with that dildo she can’t stop stroking.”

I can’t help but watch as Lawrence presses the head of his cock against me. His big head. Ronnie helps me relax by running her fingers along my forehead, then down my jaw, to my neck, and across my collarbone. She continues the path, purposefully circling my nipple, then heading down my torso. Lawrence continues bobbing his cock, just the tip, in and out of me.

“Please, give it to me, Lawrence, give me your cock.” The look that appears on his face is mischievous and I wiggle my hips against him, hoping to get another inch of cock inside me when he pushes forward. He grunts and grips my hips with his hands. Fingers spread wide for better control.

“You want it bad, don’t you? I’ll give it to you.” Lawrence sank himself into me, balls deep, but took his damn time doing it. His cock spread my pussy wider than any dildo Ronnie and I used on a regular basis. I held on to his forearms, nails digging into his skin. It felt amazing, the heat and skin of his cock. I could feel his pulse as he held me to him, both of us gasping and biting back moans of pleasure.

“Mm, Lawrence, you have such a nice ass back here. Sure you don’t want to be pickled in the middle?” Ronnie giggles and smacks his ass a few times. The jolts ride through him and into me. Both of us are sweating now, trying to hold back.

“Maybe next time, Ronnie. But remember, we promised Betsy she could be filled to bursting.” His arms snake around me and we roll over so I’m on top. Lawrence grinds us together a few times. Instead of holding back, I ride his cock and cream all over him.

“Good girl, Betsy. That’ll relax you.” Hearing Lawrence’s voice in my ear is a new experience, the way his chest rumbles against mine when he speaks is exquisite. His hands are on my ass, spreading my cheeks open.

“There you go, Ronnie. Get in there and give it to her good.” I feel the tips of his fingers tease me. Lube gets drizzled over my ass and then two sets of fingers are rubbing and teasing my backdoor. I squirm against him, getting closer to coming all over again.

They take turns prodding me open with their fingers until I’m ready to take the dildo. When I feel the head of it pressed against me, I can’t help it and rock back and forth on Lawrence’s cock. I want to be filled by both of them, I want to know what Ronnie feels when she’s stuffed to the gills.

As she works her way inside, I hear her moans and mewls of pleasure. It’s then that I realize she’s got our super special toy, the one that pleasures her when she fucks me. Hearing her and having Lawrence’s grunts in my ear as they work in and out of me is too much to handle.

Grabbing onto Lawrence, embedding my nails into his muscles, I scream out as the hardest orgasm I’ve ever experienced takes hold of me and doesn’t let me go until I’m wrung completely out. When I open my eyes, I’m still being held by Lawrence, but further up his body. His cock is no longer embedded inside me. Ronnie’s moans behind me tell me exactly what’s going on. She’s finishing him off when I couldn’t. Lawrence pets me like a beloved creature and Ronnie rides him like a champion.

Music to my ears the way Ronnie squeaks when she comes, my quiet girl, naughty to the core. Kisses and strokes and we curl up for the night.

If you’ve enjoyed this post, please visit next week for more Masturbation Monday!

You can find more delicious naughty stories over at Masturbation Monday hosted by the lovely Kayla Lords. If you haven’t submitted your own story as well, and write romance, erotica, or some combination of the genres and sub-genres, please consider doing so.

Link: Masturbation Monday

Link: Kayla Lords

Adventures in Writing: Late Night Retweet Group

Dear Erotica Authors on Radish,

I’d like to introduce you to a new and exciting retweet group. I know, another set of letters you have to hashtag. It’s a chore. But, I promise, worth your time.

Due to various reasons (beyond our control), very few Late Night (Erotica) stories make it to the home page of the Radish App. I mentioned starting a twitter group for the authors and stories in that section to Dr. J and Oleander. They told me to run with it and hopped on board my crazy train.

After starting graphics and making a address for Twitter, I stopped and said “Oh, do you think I should ask Radish before I do this?” Obviously, the answer was “Uh, yeah you might want to.”

So, I emailed my contact to say “Hey, had this idea for a Twitter Retweet Group for Late Night. Thoughts?”

Not only was I given the green light, I was also asked for a link once everything was up and running! This excited me and so I dove in head first. I wasn’t sure what kind of graphic detail I wanted for the header, so I did some research. I didn’t want anything truly explicit. So, I went with flirty reflection text saying ‘late night’ and naughty phrases. Still, nothing truly explicit. I think the naughtiest is ‘cuddle me naked’. It gets the point across.

I went with naughty phrases because if Radish wants to promote our Twitter profile on their public profiles, they wouldn’t have to worry about the content of the graphics that would be attached to the link. I’m hoping the touch of naughty will be enough to tempt the authors to peek in, follow, use the hashtag to get promoted (and to promote to their readers to check it out because they might find other authors here).

Please take a moment and check out the profile, follow and let us know if you’re an author writing for Late Night on Radish. We will follow you back and add you to the list, and also retweet you when you use #LNRTG.


Mischa, Oleander, and Dr. J.

Masturbation Monday: Juicy Bits

Technically, this is Live Action Mannequin Part Two, but I couldn’t resist the title that popped into my head this afternoon. No idea where it came from. Yes, I could’ve used it for something else, but it’s perfect for this story.

I didn’t get to see much of the neighborhood Lawrence lived in. He zipped us into the driveway and garage so fast, I felt a little worried for about ten seconds. Then we were out of the car and into the house lickety-split. Once inside, Lawrence stripped off his jacket and tie, which he hung up as soon as we were inside, then started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Come on in ladies, make yourselves at home.” Once his shirt was off, Lawrence stopped stripping long enough to pour us shots from his collection of whiskey. “Let’s have some fun, yeah?”

We tapped our glasses together, slugged them down. Heat saturated me, bubbling up from my belly and throughout my limbs. I started burning, but not in a bad way. Desire flooded my synapses and exploded between my thighs. I run my hand down the front of Ronnie’s body.

“I think we’re overdressed compared to him.” I bit my lip and started stripping her from her clothing. Lucky for Ronnie, her work attire was good enough to be worn to the show. I pulled her close and unclasped the front of her work pants. “Sexy woman.”

As I pulled out her blouse, Lawrence slipped up behind me and brushed my hair back over my shoulder. “Can I kiss your neck?” The warmth of his breath tickled against my sensitive skin. I tilt my head to the side and give him all the access he needs. Ronnie leans forward and runs her tongue along my jaw, to my ear, and then nibbles on the lobe. Being sandwiched in between the two of them brings a huge rush of need.

I stand there, four hands, two sets of lips, and two warm bodies rubbing and touching me. Within moments I’m naked and they’ve changed places. Lawrence is now in front of me, kissing me in a way I’d never been kissed. If I were to ask to rank the best kisses I’ve experienced in my life, Ronnie would cover the top five. But the way Lawrence kissed me felt as though he were drinking my soul, my desire, inflaming my need for him.

“Can I taste you, Betsy?” The whispered words against my lips were lost on me for a few moments. I wondered what it would feel like to have Lawrence use his mouth on my pussy. Unable to speak, and hardly capable of breathing, I nod.

“Let’s move this somewhere more comfortable, Lawrence.” Ronnie’s voice sounded commanding to my ears and I pressed myself against her. Before I knew it, Lawrence swept me up into his arms and carried me down the hall. He laid me down on the biggest bed I’d ever seen.

Before I could settle into a comfortable position, their hands and mouths were back on my body, tasting and teasing me into a moaning, squirming mass of sensitized flesh. Ronnie took control of my breasts and mouth while Lawrence was taking his time tasting the sticky mess that covered my inner thighs.

Two mouths. Four hands. I couldn’t get over being in the middle. Is this how Ronnie felt when Lawrence and I worked her over until she forgot anything other than orgasmic bliss existed in the world? My nipples ached. Ronnie kept switching from one to the other, never giving enough attention to either. My hips couldn’t go any wider, yet I kept trying to spread myself open so that Lawrence would get the hint that I wanted him to tongue-fuck me into oblivion.

“Baby, do you want Lawrence to taste you? He’s been asking?” Ronnie’s voice pierced my mind and I moaned, hoping she would understand that I wanted him. I wanted a man. Yes, I wanted his mouth on my clit, I wanted his lips teasing my labia. I wanted his tongue buried inside me.

“Say yes, baby. Say yes if you want Lawrence to tongue-fuck you.” I nodded, but that wasn’t enough for her. She asked again and again. “You gotta say the words, baby.”

“Yes, oh fuck please, yes.” Before I got out the second yes, Lawrence descended to feast upon my soaked pussy. Strong hands held me in place so well I could barely wiggle my hips. Ronnie grabbed my wrists and held them above my head.

“Do you want to taste me, baby?” She knew the answer was always yes to that, but I opened my mouth and lifted my head. After shifting herself, she teased me, pussy just out of reach of my tongue. “How bad do you want to taste me Betsy?”

I had taunted her in just such a way while she was being eaten out by Lawrence. “Please, Ronnie, let me taste you. I’ll do anything.” I gave her my best pout and sex eyes. Ronnie had a calculating look on her face, though. She’d completely forgotten about teasing me as the gears turned in her head.

Lawrence distracted me as he slid two fingers inside and tickled my happy spot. Arching my back, pressing my head against the pillows, I begged and pleaded for release. I was so close, just a little more, one more twitch or him sucking on my clit was all I needed.

“Anything, Betsy?” Ronnie rocked her hips back and forth in my face. I wanted to taste her so bad, regardless of the crazy amount of pleasure I was receiving from Lawrence. He was teasing and keeping me on the edge of a blade so sharp I thought I might split open from the anticipating of orgasm.

“Oh yes, baby, anything for you. Anything taste you.” I gasped out and sucked in a deep breath only to have it leave me in a whoosh as another wave of need assaulted my senses. Ronnie lowered her snatch to my face and I moaned my need into her wet pussy, tasting her salty sweetness on my tongue.

I licked and sucked and nibbled on her as though she were a feast and I was starving. Lawrence wiggled his fingers again and I moaned into her snatch. Ronnie let my wrists go and grabbed onto the headboard. Her panting turned into moans. Every time Lawrence stroked my g-spot, I moaned into Ronnie’s pussy and she would grind into me. My chin was covered in her juices and my saliva. I couldn’t get enough of her slick snatch.

Head on over to Pickled in the Middle for more juicy goodness!

If you’ve enjoyed this post, please visit next week for more Masturbation Monday!

You can find more delicious naughty stories over at Masturbation Monday hosted by the lovely Kayla Lords. If you haven’t submitted your own story as well, and write romance, erotica, or some combination of the genres and sub-genres, please consider doing so.

Link: Masturbation Monday

Link: Kayla Lords

Sharing is Caring: Kitty Katz & Her Pink Cadillac by Amber Skye

I feel that since the title is Kitty Katz that Caturday would be an appropriate day to share such an awesome story with all of you (or as Amber would say “y’all”).

Mary Kate Watkins Serves a Customer

Sitting at the breakfast-room table, I sipped coffee and surveyed the local paper. The autumn morning was beautiful, but I kept having to shift because the sunshine breaching the bay window on the east side of the kitchen was causing my head to ache from the glare. Finally, I got up and moved to the other side of the table, the sun now at my back. But after five or ten minutes, I was roasting from its powerful rays. Frustrated, I tossed the paper down and got up to pour myself another cup of coffee. Leaning against the counter, my thoughts drifted back to the previous night. Sybil had been a lot of fun, and I certainly considered keeping my options open for a repeat performance in the coming months—she was quite the tasty tart. But I surely wasn’t looking for love, so the dreamy looks Sybil had given me after our rendezvous gave me pause. I was a busy woman, after all—albeit a very horny one. I didn’t, however, need a love-crazed young woman beating down my doors—even if I did find a touch of guilty pleasure in making certain girls fall for me. Deep down, I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but I just couldn’t deny the cheap thrill it gave me to make a girl like Sybil squirm.

I sighed and rinsed out my coffee cup. As I turned away from the sink, my cook and housekeeper, Ellie, scurried into the room. I smiled. Gray-haired and grandmotherly, Ellie was quite a character. A woman in constant motion despite her advancing years, she combined hard work with a compassionate yet saucy personality. She plucked the paper from the kitchen table, showering me with a disapproving glance as she did. When she approached the counter where I stood, she coiled the paper and gave me a gentle swat on the arm with it before tossing it into the waste bin.

“Girl! If you didn’t have me to look after you, you’d have to clear a path just to walk through this house!”

It was gross hyperbole. I was fairly neat, but Ellie was downright nitpicky when it came to a clean house. I smiled again, taking in the tiny creature who’d worked in my home for nearly a decade. Barely five feet tall, Ellie likely weighed under 100 pounds soaking wet. Flat as an ironing board, she had thin arms tapering to bony hands covered in liver spots. Tiny feet, always encased in sensible black shoes, squeaked as she hustled through the kitchen. I found the sound comforting, maybe because I was so fond of her.

“Now, Miss Kitty, you never told me what you want for dinner tonight. You do remember that Reverend Olson and his wife are coming for supper, right?” she asked. “I believe their daughter is coming too.”

“Yes, Ellie, I remember.”

Our new reverend at the Episcopal Church was coming by to get better acquainted, and I had offered to serve them supper. I had yet to meet his daughter and had only been briefly introduced to his wife.

“Well?” she asked.

She had stopped prancing around the kitchen but still couldn’t keep still. With hands on her hips and one leg slightly bent, Ellie tapped her foot impatiently.

“I’m going to have Amos carry me out to the Watkins’ place, Ellie. I think a nice baked ham would be perfect for our little gathering.”

She nodded. “Okay, Miss Kitty. Ham will do. I’ll make some of my mac’n’cheese along with yams and biscuits. Perhaps a blackberry cobbler for dessert.”

“That sounds yummy, Ellie!”

She twisted her lips and scrutinized me.

“I haven’t been out to the Watkins’ place in several years—not since the missus passed. How’s old Joe Watkins doing?”

“I expect he’s getting along just fine, Ellie, considering the circumstances.”

She nodded. “I reckon that girl of his is nineteen or twenty by now, huh?”

“I reckon so, Ellie.”

“Pretty little thing she was, but I fear that child ain’t got a lick of sense…dumb as a doorknob, that girl.”

“Well, Ellie, I’m not so sure. She’s just simple country folk. I know she’s a heap of help to her Daddy.”

Ellie held up a hand, indicating she didn’t want to dispute my assessment of the Watkins girl, an unusual occurrence for her.

“Well, child, I better get busy sprucing up the place and polishing the silver. I expect you’ll want to use the good China tonight?”

I smiled and she nodded before hustling from the kitchen to start her chores. As she pranced from the room, she called over her shoulder.

“Try not to make a mess of the house, young lady. I don’t favor having to clean it twice before our guests arrive.”

“Oh, Ellie,” I laughed. “You’ll clean it twice anyway, whether I make the slightest mess or not. Go on with yourself, old girl!”

I shook my head and headed outside to the carriage house where Amos had made a nice little home for himself. My pink Cadillac sat in the turnaround, gleaming in the sunlight, as shiny as a brand-new penny.

I smiled as I approached the doorway to Amos’s neat little home. A pleasant tune wafted through open windows, serenading me with an impromptu performance courtesy of my unsuspecting driver. Amos sat on a scarred wooden chair, strumming a ukulele and singing an old bluesy song. He didn’t see me right away, so I stood in the doorway and listened. A baritone voice that flowed like molasses echoed in his chambers. His singing was sad and sweet and of excellent quality, his playing of the little musical instrument flawless. I got lost momentarily as he sang and played, a feeling of nostalgia and loss I couldn’t quite place nipping at my senses. Leaning against the doorframe, I closed my eyes and listened until he finished the tune. When I opened my eyes, Amos was turning in the chair, startled and visibly embarrassed at the encroachment to what he thought was a solitary rendering of his noteworthy talents.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I was already clapping my hands, applauding his performance.

“Why, Amos! That was simply beautiful. Bravo, my friend.”

“Miss Kitty,” he started. “I had no idea you was there.”

“I’m sorry, Amos. I didn’t mean to intrude on your solitude, but I didn’t want to interrupt your song by announcing my presence. I enjoyed it thoroughly,” I added.

“That’s quite all right, Miss Kitty.” He gently set the ukulele down and rubbed his hands together. “Was there something you needed?”

“There is, Amos. We need to make a run over to the Watkins’ place and fetch a ham for supper. The reverend and his family will come calling tonight.”

“Old Joe Watkins?”

“Yes, Amos, that’s the one.”

“I never been up to his place before, Miss Kitty. Do you know how to get there?”

I nodded. “I do! We run out south of town, past Cooter Monroe’s, and hook a left on the old country road. There’s a cow pasture that goes on forever it seems, and where the fencing ends, we’ll turn right. Might take us a half hour—forty-five minutes tops.”

“Give me five minutes, Miss Kitty, and I’ll have the car ready.”

I nodded and headed back to the house.

The drive out to the pig farm was pleasant. Abundant sun with temperatures in the low 70s made for a lovely ride. A long gravel road ran adjacent to the cow pasture that led to our destination, ending near a neat, two-story farmhouse. Amos brought the Cadillac to rest on the grass between the house and a freshly painted barn. A large area in front of the barn was home to numerous hogs, slogging about in the muddy terrain inside a fence. I looked around and frowned.

“Dang!” I said. “I hope we didn’t make this trip for nothing, Amos! I don’t see hide nor hair of Joe’s truck. It’s usually parked next to the barn.”

Amos peered at me in the rearview mirror and twisted his mouth into a thoughtful expression. Then my eye caught movement to the right; it was a sight to behold.

Mary Kate Watkins, dressed in denim overalls and a clean white tank top, strolled across the grassy area between the barn and the house. She carried a big steel pail in each hand, apparently heading for the well situated between the two structures. I licked my lips. It had been two years since I’d last seen her, and she had been quite stunning back then. If possible, she was even more stunning now. She stopped in mid-stride, cocked her head at us, and then proceeded to set the pails on the ground.

Amos climbed from the car and opened my door. I slid out and faced the young woman who was now skipping down a little slope toward us. When she got close enough to recognize me, a big smile spread across her face as she waved in a most animated fashion.

“Well, Miss Kitty,” she drawled. “I ain’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”

She stopped a few feet from me and I took her in.

“Well, well, Mary Kate,” I said. “You’ve gotten prettier than a store-bought doll!”

She held her hands up and waved them excitedly before squinting and turning her head to the side in an exaggerated display of appreciation for the flattery I’d served up.

“Oh, Miss Kitty, hush now,” she squealed, now hugging herself with nicely toned arms, a sprinkling of light freckles covering her sinewy and sun-kissed limbs.

“So, Mary Kate, where’s your daddy?”

She made a little wave of her hands. “He’s gone for most of the day, Miss Kitty. He had to help Uncle Bubba build a few deer stands in the woods over Warner Robbins way. I ‘spect he won’t be back ‘til sundown. What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

The news of her being left all alone on the farm along with her piercing blue eyes gazing into mine had temporarily put my mission to procure a ham for dinner on hold. I took her in. Thin but shapely, with small perky tits poking against the material of her tank top, Mary Kate had rendered me momentarily flummoxed. And while overalls may not have been considered the sexiest apparel in the world, she made it a close call. The somewhat baggy attire didn’t completely obscure what lay within. Long, coltish legs, extending from a cute little bottom, had instantly gotten me more than a little hot-in-the-bother. She even managed to make the dusty work boots, partially covered with the hem of her overalls, look sexy as all get-out!

“We came to purchase a ham, Mary Kate,” I finally managed. “Do you think you can handle that transaction in your daddy’s absence?”

“I expect I can, Miss Kitty. Come on in the house and I’ll get one ready for ya.”

She smiled prettily and then ran a pink tongue over her perfectly puffy lips before waving me along. I glanced at Amos who smiled and nodded. My driver gave me a little wink before I turned from his gaze and followed Mary Kate into the house.

She led me up wooden steps to a porch with two rockers positioned to the left of the front door. I followed her into the house, watching her cute pigtails bounce and flop as she danced down the hallway, past the front room, and into a large kitchen. The spacious area smelled of hickory and fresh country air. I breathed in the pleasant aroma and smiled. A sturdy butcher-block table sat in the middle of the kitchen, pitted and scarred from use.

“I got a nice seven-pound half ham in the cooler, Miss Kitty. You make yourself at home while I round it up.”

I leaned against the cutting table and waited for Mary Kate to fetch my order. She returned presently, hefting a delicious looking ham wrapped in a clear bag.

“Here, Miss Kitty, let’s have a look.”

She opened the bag, allowing me to inspect the ham. As I moved next to her, she subtly inched toward me, so our bodies brushed each other’s.

Although I didn’t visit the Watkins place often, I had encountered Mary Kate a half dozen times over the years, our first meeting when she had barely reached her teens. I had sensed even then an advanced sexuality about her, and the way she’d looked at me had told me with almost undeniable clarity that she was up for mischief—likely Sapphic mischief. It had been an unspoken vibe between us during the past six or seven years. But two things had prevented anything coming of it. First, and most importantly, she had been a minor every time I’d seen her in the past. And secondly, her father had always been present when I’d come to purchase their meats. But Mary Kate Watkins and her nubile young body had been a gnawing and haunting fantasy for me over the past several years. And now she was an adult and her daddy was off building deer stands, not due to return until evening.

I reached up and stroked one of her pigtails. “You have such pretty red hair, Mary Kate,” I said. “It’s smooth and silky. I like that.”

She turned toward me, leaving the ham unattended on the big table. Her eyes were half-lidded and her lips slightly parted. She reached up and rubbed the hand I had on her hair, gently moving it to her cheek. Her smooth skin was as creamy as whipped butter and just as soft, unblemished and warm. Mary Kate caressed her cheek with my hand a few times before moving my paw to her mouth. A shiver shot down my spine when her warm and moist mouth with those full pouty lips kissed my hand.

“Miss Kitty, can I tell you a secret?” she breathed.

“What’s that, sugar?” I whispered.

“I’ve always fancied you, ya know. You ain’t so highfalutin like them other debutantes who come around.”

I pulled my hand down and stepped in, kissing her full on the mouth. Mary Kate Watkins kissed me back with hunger, a passionate urgency that could wait no longer. Her mouth on mine felt divine, causing the juices to flow in my eager pussy. As I continued kissing her, I reached up and removed the straps from her shoulders, dropping the denim garment to the floor in a heap. I had her out of her tank top in a flash, revealing small breasts with long pink nipples, now standing at full attention. Bending down, I took a stiffened bud into my mouth, sucking her while swirling my tongue over her engorged flesh.

“Oh, Miss Kitty! What you do to me!” she moaned.

I grinned as I released her and brought my mouth to her peach of an ear. I nibbled her lobe as I breathed hot breath down her neck. She moaned again and I whispered into her ear.

“I’m going to kiss your pussy now, country girl, and when I do, you’re gonna squeal louder’n a pig at slaughter.”

She stepped out of her crumpled overalls, leaving her in her work boots and a pair of white, boy’s boxers. I yanked the boxers down and left them piled with the overalls. A fiery bush of red pubic hair greeted my gaze, glistening pink, protuberant lips peeking through her thatch. I licked my lips again.

“You can leave the boots on,” I said.

“Whatever you say, Miss Kitty,” she breathed. “Make me your little plaything.”

I turned the girl and popped her fanny lightly, causing her to giggle.

“Up on that table, young lady!” I commanded. “I’ll have you on all fours.”

She pushed the ham to the side and climbed onto the butcher-block table, placing her ripe, sweet ass in my face. Her pussy, with those curly red hairs flanking rosy lips, looked as delicious as a freshly baked peach cobbler. I dove in, nestling my face between her mouth-watering cheeks. She was clean and fresh, likely having just bathed, but her feminine aroma was thick and heady—just the way I liked it. I devoured the girl, briskly licking through the delicate folds of her labia and the crack of her ass. I nibbled and licked her flesh like a kitten lapping from a saucer of milk. My hands found her taut little fanny, kneading her butt cheeks as I tongued her slick cunt. I continued with bold strokes, licking my way up her wet slit and swirling her puckered rosette aggressively. Mary Kate turned her pretty face over her shoulder, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“Oh, Miss Kitty! Jiminy Crickets! You make me feel so good! OH, GAWD!” she bellowed, her loud cries ricocheting off the kitchen walls.

I rolled her pink pearl between my thumb and index finger as I used my coiled tongue to explore her depths. She emitted a shrill squeal when I did, bouncing and bucking like a girl gone wild. When I got my other thumb inside her butthole, she screamed bloody murder.

I stayed the course, pounding her hole with my tongue as my fingers continued their assault on her bud. I probed deeper into her asshole, pushing her over the edge. Luckily, the nearest neighbors were miles away because Mary Kate’s screams nearly brought the walls down. The country girl, dressed only in her work boots, soaked me with frothy fluid as she orgasmed—shaking and shouting, pounding the sturdy table with her fists. I didn’t relent, bringing several more waves of bliss through her tortured quim before I took mercy.

Mary Kate Watkins slumped on the table, whimpering like a child lost in the woods, but her fine ass remained in the air. I’m not sure what got into me, but I reached over to a basket of kitchen utensils on the table and snatched a metal spatula. Her butt was practically begging to be smacked. I brought the business end down on her ass, hitting her flush on her right cheek. Her yelp was followed by a giggle, confirming my suspicions about what a freak this girl truly was.

“I’ve been a bad girl, Miss Kitty. I need a whoopin’,” she chortled.

I brought the spatula down again, and then a third time. Smiling, I stepped back and admired my handiwork. The grids from the utensil had left parallel crimson marks across her sweet ass. Then something else caught my eye. Reaching out again, I plucked a whisk with a seven-inch grip from the basket. The handle was made of smooth varnished wood, the perfect implement for my devious plan. Her giggles ceased and were replaced by a gasping intake of air when I inserted the whisk inside her pussy.

“OH! Aaahhh,” screeched Mary Kate as I plunged inside her delicate kitty.

Only a small portion of the handle was visible as the tool stretched her pretty pussy. The tangled metal wires extending from her twat looked deliciously obscene. I left the whisk in place and swatted her again with the spatula.

“Yeeeeeeee!” she cried, but I didn’t give her a chance to say much more.

I started working the whisk in and out of her cunt, pounding her roughly with the makeshift dildo. We found a rhythm; she began pushing back, meeting every thrust from me with one of her own. Intermittently, I would smack her hard with the spatula, producing cries of lust from the crazed country girl. Then she stiffened, followed by a manic and uncontrollable shaking fit. Another shrill cry flew from her lips as she submitted to the powerful orgasm rattling her core. Her juices poured down her inner thighs until they dripped on the scarred and pitted table. I smacked her over and over as she came, further reddening her already crimson bottom. When I finally ceased my assault, I removed the whisk and pushed her over.

Mary Kate Watkins lay on her back, starry-eyed and dazed from the exertion. While she recovered, I slipped out of my jeans and blouse, piling my clothes alongside hers until I was completely naked. Climbing onto the table, I gave her a devilish grin.

“Have you ever eaten a pussy, Mary Kate?” I asked.

“No, ma’am, Miss Kitty,” she whispered, eyes still glazed.

I straddled her, the golden hairs around my sex only inches above her face. I could feel the dewy production from my overheated cunt coating my labia.

“Stick that sexy little tongue out, country girl! You’re fixin’ to taste Miss Kitty’s delicious pussy.”

She did as instructed, and I settled upon her, my blonde pubic hair caressing her nose.

“Kiss my pussy, hon. Lick it like it’s cookie dough on a spoon!”

She needed no further directions. Her tongue found my slit, working its way through my dripping cunt, collecting my frothy desire. Her eyes became half-lidded, telling me she adored the forbidden first taste of another woman.

“Yes, girl,” I screeched. “Fuck my sweet pussy! Lick it, Mary Kate!”

She reached up with both hands and grabbed my ass, greedily running her hands over my backside. Her tongue exploring my sex felt amazing; it was as if she was born to eat pussy. I reached under her head and pushed my aching twat onto her mouth, grinding against her pretty young face. I rode her like a bucking bronco as she zeroed in on my clit. With the flat of her tongue, she began lapping my bud with long strokes, igniting fireworks in my belly. The flame spread outward, fiery flashes intensifying with each bold stroke. My thighs began shaking uncontrollably, and I threw my head back in sheer bliss as the first wave of orgasm took hold. I screamed like a banshee as Mary Kate Watkins laid siege to my tortured quim. I looked down and tried to scream again, but my voice caught in my throat. As my hips rotated, her head weaved and bobbed beneath me, a bizarre and erotic sight that triggered a second wave of heaven through my loins. I creamed my dreamy lover with my juice, soaking her face with cum. Quivering with delight, I hit the pinnacle of bliss. I wasn’t clear if I came a third time or if it was one long continuation of the second orgasm.

Breathless and dizzy, I could take no more. I rolled off of her and lay on the table alongside my little redheaded doll. As I recovered from the mind-blowing climax, I glanced over at her. Dreamy-eyed and smiling, Mary Kate’s face was coated with my girly jizz, reigniting my lust for the kooky country girl.

Sliding off the table, I lifted her long, thin legs into the air and dove between them. Her sex was hot and gooey, her aroma even thicker and earthier than before. I breathed in her luscious scent and went to work. Her clit, slick and salty, was practically throbbing, and I took aim to torture her clamoring cunt. With rapid-fire strokes, I attacked her, wickedly lashing at her pink pearl until she was begging for release. Mary Kate’s cries filled the kitchen, echoing off the walls once again. Her body writhed and bucked with such force that I feared she might suffer whiplash, her thrashing nearly demonic. She released a high-pitched feral cry that likely was heard in the next county as she gushed a deluge of hot pussy nectar into my mouth. I consumed her feminine flavor, lapping at her steaming flesh with renewed vigor. Then she came again, gripping my hair and bouncing her hips wildly.

She lay panting, a hand over her brow as she attempted recovery from my attack. But I wasn’t finished with her. Climbing back onto the table, I pulled her left leg into the air, pressing my hot blonde bush against her red one. Mary Kate’s eyes sprang open as she removed her hand from her face, a confused look of horny desperation covering her countenance. She had no time to protest; I was already fucking her. Our swollen and slick lips rubbed together in delicious union. Wet slurping noises squeaked and squished from our melded pussies. Reaching down with my free hand, I pulled at an erect nipple, eliciting a breathy moan from my captive. Soon, our grinding became more animated, faster and frantic. I felt the familiar sensation brewing once again in my hot box and Mary Kate’s wide eyes and open mouth indicated she was right there with me. Then it happened; we erupted simultaneously, two sex-crazed women screaming in the pig farmer’s kitchen as our collective climaxes sent us to the moon. We were both soaked from navel to thigh as we came together, cries of passion filling the balmy autumn air.

I collapsed on my lover, spent and sated. We lay together for a spell, kissing and nibbling, touching and giggling. Mary Kate had likely lost close to two hours of work, but it didn’t seem to faze her. But I began to be concerned about Amos. He was probably bored out of his mind; I’d need to make it up to him. I gave Mary Kate a final kiss and tried to slide from the table. She held me in her grasp, surprising me with her strength.

“Hon,” I said. “I need to get going. This ham isn’t going to get cooked sitting on this table.”

Mary Kate wrapped her arms and legs around me tightly, squeezing me with all her might.

“Miss Kitty! That was magic! I love you! I want to do this every day! You are so pretty and sexy! I love you! I love you! OH, GAWD!” she prattled on, running her hands all over my backside.

I giggled despite the discomfort her vice-like embrace and loved-crazed endearments had caused me.

“Now, now, Mary Kate. I have to get going. I have folks coming to eat that ham for supper tonight.”

She squeezed me tighter yet and a sinister grin worked the corners of her pretty mouth.

“Daddy is going to Athens next Saturday, Miss Kitty. Maybe you’ll be needing a side of bacon!”

I laughed and gave her a gentle push. She relented and allowed me to untangle from her grasp.

“A side of bacon sounds wonderful, Mary Kate.” I winked and my smile widened. “I expect I can return next weekend for more tasty treats!”

She squealed with delight before we slid off the table and dressed.

I laid a few bills on the table and collected my ham. I gave Mary Kate’s fine little fanny a pinch, and found my way to the front door. A snoozing Amos sat in the driver’s seat of my pink Cadillac, so I tapped him gently on the chest to awaken him. Then I jumped in the car as my driver fired the engine. As we pulled away, I looked back to the house. Mary Kate Watkins stood on the porch, smiling and waving, dressed in her overalls and white tank top. She still had her boots on!

Amber Skye is an Amazon international bestselling erotica author from Atlanta, Georgia. Her steamy girl-on-girl novellas and novelettes range from soft erotic romance to hardcore BDSM.

Wife and mother of two teenagers, the former third-grade teacher at a private Christian School also has modeled six of her twelve covers. She enjoys practicing martial arts, reading multiple genres, and watching football on Sundays with her family. Please follow Amber on Twitter @Amber69Skye.


Amazon | Smashwords | Scriggler

PLAYING CUPID, Ch 37 of Consequences by M. Jane Colette #audiobook #steamylisten #hotread ConAudioTour

Welcome to Stop 37 & Chapter 37 of the Consequences AudioBook BlogTour
from CONSEQUENCES (of defensive adultery)
an EROTIC tragedy with a HAPPY ending
by M. Jane Colette
performed by Elisa Kae

18+ ADVISORY: Consequences is intended for an adult (18+) audience. It deals with mature subject matter, and contains explicit language and sexual content. Listener and reader discretion is advised.

The tour is bringing romance readers and listeners the opportunity to listen to all 48 full, unabridged chapters of Consequences well in advance of the audiobook’s Christmas release.

Plus, there are fabulous prizes at every stop–including a raffle for $50 Amazon Gift Card–and 48 chances throughout the tour to enter to win a COMPLETE set of M. Jane Colette’s paperbacks–so read through to the end so you don’t miss out!



An affair. HEARTBREAK. Consequences.  ABSOLUTION, redemption, and LOVE… in the most unexpected places–a steamy second chance romance unlike any you’ve ever experienced… featuring an ALPHA lover-confessor you haven’t DARED dream about.

Elizabeth did not plan to break up his marriage when she had an affair with her law school professor. But she did. Fifteen years later, she’s still coming to terms with the consequences of her youthful infatuation: a stepdaughter who hates her, an ex-wife who will never forgive the betrayal,  a sister-in-law who’s determined to make Elizabeth her confidante. Compelled to reveal the “tragedy of her life” to a nameless lover, Elizabeth finds herself forced to reconsider her definition of love, commitment, and responsibility—a process that finally releases her from the shackles of her past mistakes and shows her the way to her own happily-ever-after.

A NOTE ABOUT STRUCTURE: The story unfolds over the course of one night, as the narrator Elizabeth relates the “tragedy of her life” to her current lover as they, to quote a reviewer “do lover things.” The story Elizabeth tells spans 15 years. The scenes between Elizabeth and her lover are pure dialogue, and interrupt the “story proper.” There is no “he said/I said” in the dialogue between Elizabeth and her lover… a challenge the narrator solved masterfully, but which may give the first-time listener pause. To increase your enjoyment of the story, an opportunity to read, as well as listen to, the chapter, is provided.


Today, listen to Chapter 37: PLAYING CUPID:

If the audio link won’t work for you, click here:

 ❤ ❤

PREFER TO READ? We’re on it. Here is a password-protected link to the written version of this chapter for tour participants’ eyes only:

❤ ❤ ❤

★★★ ❤ CHAPTER 37: PLAYING CUPID (password: erotictragedy37 ) ❤ ★★★

❤ ❤ ❤

Enjoyed what you heard/read? The tour continues on Wed Nov 8 with Chapter 38 // EMASCULATION
hosted by Phoebe Alexander.

FIRST STOP: If this blog is your first stop on the tour, you might want to head back to stop number one, hosted by Tome Tender Blog: The Photograph, or to the Tour Home Page, and start from the beginning. There are chances to win prizes at every stop!

SPEAKING OF PRIZES: For a chance to win a copy of Consequences (of defensive adultery), M. Jane Colette’s other books, and an Amazon Gift card, enter here:



ENTER UNTIL 12:00 am Nov 29, 2017


PLUS: GRAND PRIZE TREASURE HUNT ENTRY, PART 37: For a chance to win a COMPLETE HARD COPY SET of M. Jane Colette’s novels, send an email to, and:

  1. put  #ConAudioTour Day 37 in the subject heading,
  2. ask to be added to her Rough Draft Confessions newsletter (or tell Jane you’re already on her mailing list, and it’s awesome, when’s the next love letter coming?) and,
  3. answer the question: “Elizabeth, Elizabeth what have you done? And WHY?”

(The small print: Each tour stop offers you one opportunity to enter the GRAND PRIZE TREASURE HUNT DRAW, for a total of 48 entries if you complete the tour. The books that comprise the GRAND PRIZE are the novels Tell Me, Cherry Pie Cure, and Consequences, and the non-fiction collection of essays Rough Draft Confessions, including its controversially titled, available-only-in-Canada, beta reader / limited edition predecessor.) 



including  iBooks  Kobo  Amazon  Barnes & Noble  Google Play  Inside Romance

Softcovers at all the usual places, including Chapters ❤ Amazon ❤ Barnes & Noble ❤ Book Depository ❤ Powell’s Books and your favourite retailer


sign up for M. Jane Colette’s Rough Draft Confessions to get advance notice of its release

REMEMBER: The story continues on Wed Nov 8 with Chapter 38 // EMASCULATION
hosted by Phoebe Alexander.

M. Jane Colette writes tragedy for people who like to laugh, comedy for the melancholy, and erotica for women and men who like their fantasies real. She believes rules and hearts were made to be broken; ditto the constraints of genres.

Connect with her on Twitter / GoodReads / FaceBook / Instagram and subscribe to her newsletter, Rough Draft Confessions, to stay in the loop on her WIPs, new releases, and fab multi-media, multi-author projects. You can also email her at

For more information about the tour & its other hosts, visit or check out the schedule below.

#ConAudioTour #SteamyListen #ListenToThis
visit for daily link updates

Masturbation Monday: Live Action Mannequin

In this story, we revisit Betsy and Ronnie from Date Night! Betsy has an interesting job and invited Ronnie and Lawrence to the show.

“I’ve taken some oddball jobs, Ronnie, but this one… well, this one takes the cake. I’ve scored you a couple of tickets, so it would mean a lot to me if you’d show. Please? I’ll lick your pussy until I can’t feel my tongue anymore…” Hoping the sing-song voice and the begging, and the promise of some serious oral sex, would get my girlfriend out of the apartment for a night filled me with dread. We’d both been struggling lately, both in work and in our personal sex life. Nothing seem to entice us. We were in the mother of all ruts without any of the rutting. 

“Okay, Bets, just please stop singing at me. My boss has been yelling at me all afternoon. Will there be an open bar? Because I totally need an open fucking bar kind of night. Who should I bring with me?” The angst in her voice told me everything. There was no way I was getting laid tonight. I wondered if she was secretly feeling the urge for Lawrence’s big girthy cock in her twat again but wasn’t telling me. My jealousy issues… were horrifying. I felt bad but god dammit, why couldn’t I satisfy my girlfriend with a fake dick? 

“Bring Lawrence. We’ll take him home with us afterwards. And yes, I’m reading the flyer right now. Open fucking bar. It says just that on it, I swear.” I was lying, of course. No one would put the word fucking on a flyer, but hey, I was allowed to lie about little things like that, right? 

“But we have to pay Lawrence. He is a sex worker, you know.” I rolled my eyes at her loud whisper over the phone. I knew how to pull some strings with Lawrence and now it was time I taught Betsy, 

“No no, babe. You tell him that we’re taking him out as a thank you and he can network a little. I know there are some women, and possibly men if he swings that way, that would be more than happy to get his digits, if ya know what I mean. Maybe he’ll thank us with a freebie fuck after the party.” I snickered a little and waggled my eyebrows even though she couldn’t see me. I knew she’d know, Ronnie always knew. 

“You’re doing that thing again with your face, aren’t you? Stop it, Bets, you’re scaring the other passengers.” When she said that I glanced at the people around me. They did appear to be a little horrified from the way they had all deliberately turned away from me. I had a loud voice, it carried. Rolling my eyes, I went back to my private conversation. 

“Don’t worry about it. Look. I’ll leave the tickets at Will Call for you. Just make sure you come straight to my section first. It’ll be the room behind the black velvet curtain with the line and the bouncer. They’ll probably scan your license to make sure it’s legit, too. Make sure Lawrence brings his real one. We don’t want a huge dramafest like that other time. Oh, my stop, gotta go, love you.” I made kissy noises as I trampled down the aisle in my loud shoes. I was a loud person. Loud clothing, colors, hair, shoes, everything. LOUD. 

I hoped Ronnie enjoyed my display. Again, weirdest job ever. I had to be a live action mannequin. There would be a bell that would indicate for us to switch positions. We all wore faceless masks to protect the identities of the wicked. Tonight, I was Upskirt Shot. I had the signature white dress, the perky curls, and the barest vulva on the continent. Standing on a pedestal in these heels wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, either. The biggest issue I had was how sensitive my skin was now that it was completely bare. I felt as though my nerves were completely exposed. All day I’d been squirming. And then there was the fan beneath me, blowing up my skirt, so that people would be able to see everything. It blew at a slight angle, just enough to cause the skirt to lift and expose, but not to dry my naughty bits. Stickiness coated my thighs and I knew everyone would be able to smell how turned on I was the moment they got up close to get a look. 

The bell sounded and while the change in my position wasn’t much of one, it was enough to make me gasp behind the mask. My nipples hardened and were most likely seen through the flimsy fabric. I heard another gasp and I knew Ronnie found me. She would know me instantly, despite the silly blank mask. 

“So beautiful,” she whispered. It drove me mad that I couldn’t see the look on her face. Instead, I was staring through slits at the ceiling. We were allowed just enough to see for safety reasons. Others would get to see their viewers, but not me. 

A rumbling ‘mmmhmmm’ followed Ronnie’s whisper. It had to be Lawrence. A spike of heat lanced though me, my jealousy roaring to life. Jealousy for me was a drug. Yes, knowing my girlfriend liked getting big cock occasionally angered me but it also got me off. Watching Lawrence do dirty things to her turned me on. It was difficult to admit so I never did, not to Ronnie or Lawrence, and I stuffed the thought deep down to forget. 

“Do you think she’ll let me taste her later? I made a bunch of contacts thanks to the before party. I owe her a thank you.” Hot, smutty thoughts of Lawrence and Ronnie licking me at the same time, pushing each other away in order to get to my gooey, warm center caused a gush of joy to rush through me. And drip down my thighs. 

“I think she would.” Ronnie’s playful voice, the voice I hadn’t heard in so long, hit my heart and made it dance in joy. My woman wanted me again. Even if she decided to share me with Lawrence, I would take what I could get. 

Another beep rang through the speakers and we all shifted positions again. Hands to my neck, slightly bent forward, but no one could see the smile beneath the mask. It wouldn’t have matched the person I was meant to be portraying anyway, not really. Hers was fun and flirty while I knew mine was wanton and lustful. 

“We’re skipping the after party. Get changed and meet us in the alley.” Ronnie was again whispering at me over the phone. She’d called me as soon as the models were freed from their mannequin roles. 

“Okay, give me give minutes, hot damn woman.” I skipped my underthings and put on my skirt and blouse from earlier today. I grabbed my jacket and hopped into my shoes while heading for the back door. When I pushed it open, I was settling my purse at my side and greeted by two smiling faces. 

“I drove, we can take my car.” Lawrence. Young and studly, recently cut his hair super short and let his stubble grow to just the perfect amount. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a men’s magazine – regardless of the content – in the suit he wore. 

Before I realized it, he was in the middle of us, arms wrapped around each other as we all walked down the sidewalk to the parking area. He was so warm and smelled so good. His hard body fit against me like a puzzle piece. Sometimes, he felt like our third. 

It wasn’t long before we were in his car zipping along the city streets, listening to some 80s station while he shifted gears. The car was so expensive, I was scared to move the wrong way. I didn’t want to accidentally leave a puddle of pussy juice on his seat. 

“Where are we going?” I didn’t have to yell over the music, but it sounded like I had anyway. Loud voice. 

“I’m taking you two home with me tonight.” Lawrence winked at me in the mirror and then tilted his head back a little, eyes back on the road, licked his lips. 

“Oh, okay.” The loud part of me went back to my fantasy earlier. “I heard you earlier, are you still interested in that? It spurred some interesting thoughts.” I squirmed against the seat and then remembered the buttery leather I sat on cost more than my paycheck. 

“Yes, hell yes.” His voice had gone all deep and husky. I watched him in the mirror, what I could see anyway, and bit my lip. Ronnie was still gushing about how hot and sexy and forward the show had been. It relieved me that she was okay with me doing such a strange gig that showed off my vulva to a bunch of strangers. 

Continue the hot pussy-licking action with Juicy Bits!

If you’ve enjoyed this post, please visit next week for more Masturbation Monday!

You can find more delicious naughty stories over at Masturbation Monday hosted by the lovely Kayla Lords. If you haven’t submitted your own story as well, and write romance, erotica, or some combination of the genres and sub-genres, please consider doing so.

Link: Masturbation Monday

Link: Kayla Lords

A Penny for your Thoughts: Seasonal Blahs

I almost started ranting about things that didn’t belong in this post, but I wrangled my inner demon (to release her another day) and got back on track!

Well, it’s that time of year again, you know what I mean if you live in a place where the seasons change regularly. And even if you do live somewhere that’s warm more often than not, you may still experience what I call the Seasonal Blahs.

The nights are a lot longer now and are going to get even longer. Less sunshine means more blah-feeling days. It also means bouts of cabin fever when there’s three feet of snow on the ground … well, for me anyway. I seem to get this crazy urge to go somewhere – anywhere – for a little while when the snow is at its worst. It’s usually freezing and coming down in sheets when I have this insane urge to go somewhere and do something.

I tend to fight this urge because I can’t afford to have some idiot slam into me and be out of a vehicle. So, I play video games or watch engrossing shows or movies in order to shake it off. I used to get lost in a book during these times, but lately, I have a difficult time doing that. Before Horatio Slice the last book to engross me well enough to read 80% of it in one sitting is The Golden Lily by Richelle Mead. Just an example of what I go through to find a good book.

Good stories, however, I’m never ever short on. Thanks to the writers that participate in Masturbation Monday, Wicked Wednesday, Friday Flash, and more, I always have something fun and new to read at my fingertips. It might be a one-shot story or an on-going serial. I love the ongoing serials, though. They keep me on edge – which is why I enjoy writing them as well. I hope to tempt you back each and every installment.

The Seasonal Blahs are rough, though. I’ve thought of a few ways I can fight them off. One, I can go to a café to write instead of sitting at home writing. If I do that, then I won’t be at home sifting through tv channels or Netflix/Hulu shows. Of course, I can’t miss the shows I do watch for more reasons than just being addicted to them.

The other thing is that I can exercise more. If I get some form of exercise every single day, then it should help me sleep and feel better about the impending snow shoveling heading my way in a short period of time. Yes, I’ll be including shoveling snow as part of exercise, because it is. If you haven’t shoveled wet, packed snow before, try it sometime. It’s more tiring than running uphill. And no, I won’t be buying a snow blower, simply because snow shoveling is an exercise, dammit. (Despite what my FitBit thinks.)

I’ve also started on Fall Cleaning – the opposite of Spring Cleaning – where you wash all the blankets that are being pulled out of the closet for those extra cold nights. Swap out the curtains and cover entryways that let out heat. I have two closets, one on each side, where my front door is. They let out tons of heat, so I cover the archway. The temperature behind the curtain is quite different than the rest of the house.

I’m also taking vitamins. Again. I have bouts of issues when it comes to vitamins. I either feel worse or no better more often than not. I don’t understand that either. I eat healthy, so technically, I shouldn’t need them – but no one eats enough properly to get the recommended vitamins. And, if you haven’t heard, Europe actually has way higher vitamin daily recommendations than we do here in the good ole USA. Yeah, figure that out.

Another thing is adding more music to my Amazon Music. I recently revisited the 80s and realized that Alice Cooper was a HUGE influence on my smutty writing career. Don’t believe me? Listen to the Trash album. I used to listen to it ALL. THE. TIME. It’s smutty as fuck. I’ve also added some INXS, Poison, Motley Crue, Skid Row… you get the gist.

Adding more music, a variety of music, will get me up and moving. Whether it’s doing laundry, general cleaning, or writing. It’ll get me doing something constructive. I won’t be under the black cloud of depression that tends to hang right over me if I keep moving fast enough.

What are you doing in order to remove the seasonal blahs? Are you in a sunshine-filled warm state – and if so – do you get the Seasonal Blahs? What do you do in order to keep smiling and active?

Masturbation Monday: Bound

Originally, I submitted this to an anthology and it was not accepted. No harm, no foul! Here it is for your pleasure!

The serial killer stalked toward me; blood-covered machete clenched in his right fist. I didn’t move, barely trembled. My shoulders ached a little from being hung by my wrists. The rope gauntlets that had been tied were too pretty, too perfect, and covered almost to my elbows. Why would a serial killer take the time to make pretty rope binding if he planned to murder me? The questions rolling through my mind were the only thing keeping me from free-falling into subspace. 

“Cut,” Damon hollered.  The staff grumbled and sighed. I trembled as if the bellow of his voice had touched me the way an earthquake shakes the ground. This was the second time I’d screwed up. An additional sound of frustration came from the crew as they started the reset. 

Damon walked up to me and slapped my cheek with a light, playful tap. I cleared my throat to hide the surge of desire that rushed through me. “Hey. When the serial killer enters, you’re supposed to scream and cry, thrash and kick, not stare at him like he’s the dreamiest guy you’ve ever met. Fear for your life.” I looked up into his dark eyes. They almost matched his skin, which glistened with sweat under the hot lights. Little flecks of lighter brown and some gold shimmered. He didn’t know my little secret, and I wasn’t ready to tell him, or anyone else. Being bound made me feel more free than any other experience.  

“I’m sorry. I’ll get it right, I promise. Just a little stage fright.” He nodded and checked my bindings. I wondered where the man who’d bound me learned the binding pattern or if he’d just made it up as he went along. Damon hadn’t been the one to tie me up, and I hadn’t seen the guy who did since. 

“Are these okay? They’re not too tight? Are you going numb?” Damon fired questions at me that I was incapable of answering. I concentrated on the feel of his fingers as his hands wrapped around my upper arms and massaged their way up to the rope. “Maya?” 

“Yes. No, I mean. I’m good. No numbness. Thank you, Damon.” 

When Damon had landed a job directing an independent horror film, he asked if I would be interested in being an extra. The pay was little but it included lunch. I had nothing else going on, so I took it. When the girl originally tapped to play my role freaked about being tied up, I got bumped up into her part. I was the first to die.. 

Damon yelled for everyone to get back on their marks. He squeezed my arms and mouthed “Fear for your life,” before walking away. I thought of every horrible thing I could to keep myself from relaxing into the subspace I craved. 

The serial killer entered, the machete in his right hand, but this time, he swung it, as if he were testing its weight and balance. I bit my inner cheek and my eyes filled with big, fat tears. I took a sharp gasp of air and shook my head, trying to back away, but unable to do so. “No,” poured out of my mouth, longer, sometimes followed by please until I ran out of air. 

The killer grabbed me by the throat, and I tried to kick his shins, but he wouldn’t stop squeezing my throat. He was squeezing my throat. I struggled harder against him. My kicks hit the special padding hidden in his clothing protecting him from feeling much of my effort. Subspace crept in around the edges, but I pushed it away. No matter how alluring, I needed to focus. 

In his green eyes  I saw something there, a spark or fire lit within. I continued to struggle for all I was worth, and then pretended to pass out. The killer stroked my cheek, petted my hair, and ran his hand down my body. He used the machete to slice open my crop top. I had to keep my breathing as shallow as possible. It wasn’t hard; I simply turned to the place in my mind that was as calm and empty as the void of space. 

Sensations took over. My nipples tingled and hardened. My panties were soaked and sticky from both being tied up and groped. Between the water spritzing and hot lights, my skin glistened. I wanted him to touch me again. I wanted him to run his hands down my skin and between my thighs. 

“You’re mine.” The machete stabbed into me. and I came awake, gasping for air. My mouth gaped open like a fish out of water. My eyes rolled wildly, and it felt as though everyone around watching held their breath. The machete ripped out of me, then stabbed again. I writhed back and forth and then hung limp. I went into subspace but it appeared I was unconscious and slowly dying. 

“Cut,” the director yelled. People started cheering, and I had to pull myself out of that private space. The serial killer removed his mask. He had tied me up earlier. Now he stood there with a certain glint in his eyes. The way his lips curved up slightly sent a shiver down my spine causing all the little hairs to stand up on the back of my neck. 

“I’m Gavin. Would you be interested in chatting privately?” He ran his hand through his hair. It highlighted the mess of the dark brown spikes from wearing the mask. “You can say no if you want. I won’t hold it against you.” 

I shook my head, “I’d like that.” My words were so soft that I wasn’t sure he would be able to hear. However, the smile on his lips told me he had heard every word. 

“I’m going to lift you now.” Gavin wrapped his arms around me. He presses his body closer and tighter to me than needed, then removed my wrists from the hook. My entire body lit up like firecrackers tossed into a bonfire. 

Gavin’s breathing accelerated and he slid me down his body. I brought my wrists down between us, and he proceeded to free me from the bindings. My breath hitched, my heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t ready to be unbound just yet. 

“No worries, Maya. I promise we’ll be doing this again soon if you’re inclined.” I nodded, watching with fascination as he coiled the rope while he unwrapped my forearms. The color was a beautiful crimson. The soft marks left behind made me smile. 

“I’m inclined.” I waited while Gavin rubbed my wrists and arms gently. He massaged each finger. Everyone around us was busy getting ready for another scene. I had no idea what this movie was about, but I was so glad I took Damon up on his offer.

You can find more delicious naughty stories over at Masturbation Monday hosted by the lovely Kayla Lords. If you haven’t submitted your own story as well, and write romance, erotica, or some combination of the genres and sub-genres, please consider doing so.

Link: Masturbation Monday

Link: Kayla Lords

Masturbation Monday: Friday the 13th

I wanted to post this on Friday, but I’m sure it was worth the wait. Enjoy!

Rolling my eyes as my coffee companion tossed a pinch of salt over his shoulder before cleaning up the mess, I continued our chat. “So yeah, you still haven’t answered my question.” I stirred my coffee, even though it had nothing in it. I used to add cream and sugar and flavoring, but then the cost of having coffee out became ridiculously expensive once I did the math. I’d rather have my own place than pay that much for extras in my caffeine fix.

“Look, I’m not boycotting. Do what you feel is right, I’ll do what I feel is necessary. I get you want to support people in their rights to be heard, but I have no idea how boycotting social media for a day is going to mean you’ll be heard. Instead, it’s going to mean there’s a new way to shut you down. You’re giving them a new weapon.” Rick couldn’t meet my eyes, but I understood his position.

“Tell me more.” I lifted the cup and sipped. Pink gloss stained the mug, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t giving up my pretty in pink gloss for anything. “And then we’re going to talk about your superstition issues.” Rick snickered at that one. It didn’t surprise me, though.

“Look, women want to be heard. I don’t understand how boycotting a social media site, or all of them, for 24 hours, is going to make them feel heard. I think what they truly need to do is to come forward. Tell their truths. Tell the things that have happened to them. Become bold and courageous and be heard.” Rick slumped into the booth. He looked exhausted. “None of this ‘wives/daughters/sisters stuff, either. All women have a right to use their voice.”

The waitress came over and I put my hand over my mug. The last thing I wanted was even more of their burnt black soulless coffee. Today’s was especially dark, like my emotions as of late. Every time I turned around, I was saying the wrong thing, doing the thing, supporting the wrong cause. Luckily, I had someone like Rick to turn me around.

He looked especially sexy today. His hair was mussed and he hadn’t shaved in quite awhile. The sweater he wore was dark and hugged him the way I wanted to wrap myself around him. I sighed and he touched my hand, which made me smile. Rick thought I was sighing about all this insanity with the world going on, but in truth, I was sighing happily about naughty thoughts of us naked together. Thoughts of rubbing my face against his hairy chest, his treasure trail, his thighs.

“Here you go.” The waitress found our check after I turned down the coffee and slid it on the table, next to my hand. She winked at me and I felt the flush creep up my skin. For fuck’s sake. I’m a gay man wearing lip gloss and eye liner and the women still hit on me. I’m always shocked they don’t go for Rick who looks uber-straight, alpha male, and has smooth charm exuding from his very being.

Rick took the check after she walked away. I was too busy looking at her in utter confusion to get it first. “Oh-ho… lookie here. You got her number. You going to call her, Steph?” I saw the glimmer in Rick’s eye as he teased me a little. We’d been talking and meeting up for a few weeks now. But only for coffee and maybe a slice of pie. I hadn’t had the nerve to ask him over and I had no idea if he were interested in me enough to show me his place.

“My name is Stephen.” I stuck my tongue out at him and flipped my hair over my shoulder. I really needed to get it cut, but life had been pretty busy lately. Between night classes and trying to earn my way up the ladder properly at the local paper, this was my current social life right now, other than social media and forums.

“Okay, how about we do something different. Instead of boycotting, we link to positive blogs and posts supporting women and women who have opened up to share their stories about sexual harassment and abuse that has happened in their lives. We can help give them a little oomph, get them to a bigger audience.” I pushed away the mug and sat back in the booth. Rick was no longer slumped, it appeared his energy had popped right back up to full force.

“Okay, we should include sex-positive articles as well. It is Kink Month, after all.” When I felt Rick’s hand touch mine again, a little zap of electricity went through me and straight to my cock. “Why don’t we get out of here? I have the afternoon off. There’s a little fall festival in the park down the street.”

For a moment, my heart stuttered. Was he asking me out? Would this be an official date? Swallowing, I nod. “I’m actually covering that for the paper, so it would be perfect. Yes.”

“Excellent. Let me take care of this.” Rick stood with the check and I shut my mouth. Normally, we split the check or took turns paying, depending on the reason. He’d paid last time, too and I wasn’t about to ruin what might turn out to be a good thing. Next time, we’d get pie and I’d grab the check.

Standing, I grabbed my jacket, but before I could slide into it, Rick was there, helping. He squeezed my shoulders, slid his hands down my arms and then grabbed my hand. “By the way, I told the waitress you’re all mine. I hope that was okay.”

A little rumble of pleasure escaped me and I grabbed him by his shoulders and kissed him quick on the lips. “I’m yours.” We made our way out of the busy café. The waitress glanced at the two of us, a dreamy look in her eyes that made me wonder what she was thinking about as we walked out the door.

Rick put his arm around me and pulled me in close. The leaves were changing colors and just being in the crisp air with this burly man made my entire being feel energized. Warmth seeped into me from his body and I snuggled in closer.

“Anything you want to do first?” Rick’s voices had changed a little. It was deeper, growly, and I felt his chest rumble as he spoke.

“Make out with you.” I laughed quickly after the words escaped, trying to play off that I was being funny. Rick didn’t fall for it though and the smile on his face told me he was thinking the same thing.

“How about we skip the festival and head to my place?” Leaning down, he nibbled on my ear. I stuttered as I tried to hold back the sound of bliss that tried to escape.

“Y-yes.” My dreams were coming true. I wanted to take this man and eat him up. I wanted to be devoured by his lips and tongue. To become one with him, breathe the same breath, our hearts synched in perfect time.

Couples along the sidewalk were staring at us, which wasn’t a big deal. It was a bigger deal with those who ignored us on purpose, as if we didn’t exist. It made me want to scream out that yes, we were men who liked to kiss and fuck and to deal with it, but instead, I headed to the privacy of Rick’s apartment a short walk away.

Once the door closed and locked behind us, we were stripping each other bare, leaving a trail of clothes as he guided me towards the bedroom. I stopped him before we could go that far, however. He was naked and glorious. I needed to admire his flesh up close. I drew my fingertips down the trail that led to his cock.

“Do you like what you see?” Rick’s voice sounded small, as if he had doubts about himself. I couldn’t believe it. Broad shoulders, muscled torso, arms most men couldn’t get no matter how much they went to the gym, and his cock.

“Very much so.” Licking down his chest and abdominals, I lowered to my knees. I needed him in my mouth. His body hair tickled my tongue. It was so fucking soft and made me a little jealous. I removed all of my body hair because nothing I did could make it fine and soft.

Swirling my tongue around the tip of Rick’s cock caused him to gasp. When he closed his eyes, I pinched him lightly on the leg and sloppily let his cock fall from my mouth. “Right here, big boy. I want you to look me in the eyes while I suck you off.”

“I’ll do my best.” Rick shifted my hair back from my forehead and I resumed tonguing his cock and balls. Looking up into his eyes made things a little difficult, but seeing him react, watching his lips twitch into that smoking hot grin made me dribble from the head of my cock.

“Please, please let me fuck you right now. I don’t think I can hold off any longer.” Tormenting him a little more, I swallowed down his length and then slowly released him from the confines of my hot mouth.

I was already bent over the bed before he made his way there, cock in one hand and a tube of lube in the other. “My original plan was to find a little secret spot at the festival and fuck you without anyone realizing it, but I decided that I wanted you all to myself instead.”

Rick came up behind me and spread enough lube over my hole to grease up an entire football team. I wasn’t complaining though, the more lube, the faster the fuck once we got settled. “Yeah, get me all oiled-up honey.”

Fingers, thick, rigid, and calloused started working on me, opening me up for proper use. “Oh, good gravy, that feels so good. Please, faster. I want you.” Rick kept working at me and bent over my body to kiss, nibble, and lick along my shoulders and down my spine.

“Not like this though, I want you on your back with your legs on my shoulders.” The fact that he wanted to fuck me face to face rushed enough adrenaline through my body I broke out into a sweat. I’d never found anyone that I wanted to do that with, but Rick, I felt drawn to him.

With regret, I pulled away from him and turned over onto my back, holding my legs behind the knee. “Sounds perfect to me, big guy. Get over here and give it to me.”

That was all he needed. Rick grabbed my ankles and put them over his shoulders. He tossed the lube onto the bed and worked his way into my tight ass. “Relax baby, I won’t hurt you.” Greasy fingers pinched my nipples with a gentleness I’d never experienced before. He caressed my skin as he worked himself inch by inch into me.

“I’m going fuck you so good.” The way Rick drew the words out made me want to rush him. Shifting my hips to meet him caused a happy groan to hit my ears. “Yes, keep doing that, Stephen.”

Before long, Rick was pausing to take a breath. “Hang on, I don’t want to blow my load now that I’m inside. Fuck, your ass is so damn tight.” He reached between us and played with my balls.

“Oh hell, that’s cheating.” I squirmed against his hand, enjoying the way he played with such a sensitive part of me. And then his other hand reached for my cock.

“Maybe I can get you to relax a little if you shoot your load, baby.” While he played with my less impressive hardon, Rick groaned. My squirming was causing him issues as well and I wanted to have fun with it.

I started rolling my hips against him and he tried his damnedest to hold me still, but if he wanted to get me off, he couldn’t hold my legs, too. It didn’t take long before he gave in, grabbed my hips and short-rammed me until I exploded all over myself.

Rick removed my legs from his shoulders with a gentle touch and wrapped them around his waist. He then picked me up and crawled onto the bed with me as carefully as he could. Every jolt, every movement, pushed me even deeper into satisfaction. I never wanted it to end. I wanted him to fuck me over and over until I drenched both of us in come.

After getting us even more ramped up while getting us situated, Rick kissed me. His tongue traced along my lips and then slid inside. His hips moved ever so slow against mine, the puddle of come sticking to our skin. The smell of sex and his alpha male musk assailed me and I squeezed him tighter to me.

“Stephen, I have a confession to make.” Rick stared down into my eyes and stroked the locks of hair around my face. “I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you the first time we met up. But one we started talking, I knew you were worth waiting for and I’m glad I did.”

“Me, too Rick.” He used his teeth to graze along my jawline, to my neck, and then my collarbone. He angled himself to nibble and lick my nipples. But our hips, while barely moving, were synched as we rocked into one another.

“Now… now, I’m going to fuck you.” Rick’s eyes went a little wild and I shuddered, wondering, waiting to see what he would do next. As he grabbed my wrists and forced them above my head, I tightened my legs around his waist.

One hand held my wrists, while the other lifted my hips just so. “Yes, right there, hard and fast.” I lifted my hips to meet him and then he held me fast.

“Don’t move.” Rick dug himself into the mattress and used the springs to bounce into me, hard and fast. Jolts went to all of my senses. I wanted to close my eyes and dig my head into the pillow, but his voice brought me back. “I want you to look at me while I come inside you, baby.”

So, I did my best. I watched his face and stared into his beautiful warm, loving eyes as he filled my ass to overflowing. Kisses rained down upon my face once Rick regained his senses. He licked his lips and slid down off of me, licking up the mess I’d made earlier.

“This is the best Friday the 13th ever.”

You can find more delicious and naughty stories over at Masturbation Monday hosted by the lovely Kayla Lords. If you haven’t submitted your own story as well, and write romance, erotica, or some combination of the genres and sub-genres, please consider doing so.

Link: Masturbation Monday

Link: Kayla Lords

Technical Blather: Theme Issues

Another Update

Okay, so the slider is across the page… which is the only way it displays anything properly. Nothing I’ve tried with the css is working for it to be displayed inline with the sidebar, therefore, giant slider.

At this point… this is what it is. I’m not happy, at all. I may once again revert entirely to the old theme (right now I’m somewhere in between the two and I have no idea how… it may be because I was messing with options and saving/publishing prior to downloading the legacy file).

We’ll see. not happy! And if I’m not happy, how am I supposed to write glorious smutty stories to get you off?

End Another Update

Apologies for the downtime, folks. For some reason my theme likes to go wonky and not update itself. No idea why, but everything is okay. The bland theme you see here now will not be hanging around for long. Once I figure everything out that is…

The site may go down again due to an upgrade with my lovely hosts who like me enough to save me some cash. Please be patient.

And now that it did update, it messed up everything. I tried a rollback with a legacy options upload, but everything is still messed up. Please bear with me.

A Penny for your Thoughts: Safe, Sane, and Consensual

First, I want you to take a moment and follow Professor Sex on Twitter. October is National Kink Month and she’s doing lots of education tweets about the Kinky Life.

Confiscated From Pinterest

It seems to be inevitable. Each time I mention ‘safeword’ on Twitter, someone has to reply that their safeword is basically something that’s just there. It exists, but it doesn’t really have meaning. I feel that this is unsafe, dangerous, and abuse. If you’re with your partner for years, and not trying anything new, perhaps you know them well enough that you can slow down, or stop, from just watching their body movement and reactions. However, that’s not the case with people who are exploring kink.

You should always have a safeword, and it should always be obeyed.

Hell, when I was researching rope bondage with my friend, we both agreed to have a safeword. There wasn’t anything else involved other than him binding me, but on the chance that I freaked out for some reason, felt uncomfortable, or ended up in some kind of pain – we were prepared. I trust this person with my being. I pretty much tell him everything. I would have skipped the safeword altogether, but we both know that things go sideways.

If you practice gagging and use ball gags or other mouth bondage devices, you still need safe signals.

I will never, ever stop supporting the use of safewords. If the Dom continues the scene after the sub uses their safeword – that is abuse. Yes, there can be “Sorry, did you safeword?” mistakes. But, there are people out there who are malicious and will not obey the guidelines of safe, sane, and consensual.

If you follow me on Twitter, you know I don’t live a kinky lifestyle. I’m single, not seeing anyone, and my cat thinks he’s my boyfriend. I do read a lot about the BDSM Life. I have many friends who live kinky lives. Every time I pick up a book and find out that there’s no discussion between a couple, no safe word chat, no “Oh, hey baby, can I tie you up?” it makes me want to throttle the author. This is unsafe practice. If my friend had taken me into a room, blindfolded me, bound me to a stool, and then stood back to watch me freak out, I’d be pissed. I’d never speak to him again. And yet these authors are putting these stories out into the world where the sub doesn’t know anything about the world of kink. Mainly because their partner decided to just do whatever they wanted instead of talking to them. This teaches people in the real world that it’s okay to do that. It teaches submissives that it’s okay to have that done to you. It’s not okay. It’s abuse.

If you’re new to the kink lifestyle, try following LovingBDSM on Twitter. Tons of advice and a Podcast!

There’s another acronym called R.A.C.K. (Risk Aware, Consensual Kink). However, once again, I will stress the need for safewords. Know your partner. Know your surroundings. Have a verbal agreement. Get rid of the grey areas in your kinky life. One safeword sometimes isn’t enough. It’s okay to use Green/Yellow/Red as your safewords, but you need to discuss what they mean.

I’m also a huge supporter of the Emphatic Yes. “Do you like that?” Yes. “Would you like me to do that more?” YES. “Do you want me to do it harder/faster/deeper?” Yes Yes Yes! You can’t deny the good feeling when someone is very clearly saying “Oh yes, more of that, please yes, give me more, I want that again, yes yes yes!”

Please, be safe in your kink! A safe BDSMLife is a Happy BDSMLife. Don’t end up in the hospital because someone decided to go way beyond your comfort zone. Be Aware. Be Safe. Be Kinky!

Masturbation Monday: Possession – Episode One

Good evening, folks. I am (kind of) cheating this week. I am so far behind in my writing, it’s ridiculous. And I’m hungry. A starving artist is just that – hungry for actual food.

“Kendrick, this is Maryann over at Possession. We’d like to discuss your starting date and a time to fill out employee paperwork. Please give me a call back. You have our number.” I looked at my phone, mouth open, eyes wide. I’d just gotten out of class and saw the blinking light that I had a notification. Thrill ran through me. I got the job!

“Hey man, are you okay?” Todd smacked me hard on the shoulder and my expression changed from one of shock and happiness to pain. I clenched my jaw but my grunt of agony could still be heard. White spots clouded my vision and when the pain subsided, Todd’s voice rang in my ears. “Oh hell, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll make sure my physical therapist knows you’re abusing me more than she is.” Surgery had waylaid me from athletics. My scholarship went shortly after. My part-time job didn’t pay enough to cover my expenses, so instead of packing up and running home, I decided to do my damnedest to make ends meet. When I saw the job for a bartender making twice an hour what I currently pulled in, I couldn’t resist.

“Um, so what was that all about? Did something happen?” Todd’s eyes roved, leering a little at some of the hot girls on campus. Todd could be such a dog and the girls fell all over him.

“That job, I got it. I’ll be bartending every night for a few hours and making double what I’m making at the construction gig. They cut my hours and changed me to light duty after my injury, plus I was off all that time without any pay. I can’t ask my parents for more money since insurance isn’t covering some of my hospital bills.” I pulled the handle up on my roller-backpack, which was an embarrassment all on its own. Even though I still wore a sling occasionally, people still asked me about the damn thing. I liked it though.

“Wait, the job at the club in the middle of nowhere? What was the name again?” Todd’s eyes had widened and he’d stopped staring at girls to look hard at me. Nothing made Todd stop checking out girls, so I knew something had truly concerned him.

“Possession. Yeah, the one in the middle of nowhere. Why? What have you heard?” When he started snickering like a ten-year-old boy, I rolled my eyes. “Okay, don’t tell me then.” I started to walk away.

“Dude, it’s a sex club.” Todd was almost rolling on the ground laughing. Tears leaked from his eyes. People stopped to stare at him. Todd did his best to get himself back together, but still burst out laughing a couple of moments later.

“No freaking way. Nothing about the place says sex club. It’s just another place for the rich to throw their money away and I plan to rake up a hell of a lot in tips.” I shook my head and continued my way. I was using my other hand to go to my recent calls so I could schedule a meeting with Maryann about paperwork.

“No, really. I know some people who went there. It’s totally a sex club. They whip people there, man.” Todd pulled out his own phone, but I ignored what he was doing.

When I got her voicemail, I cringed. I didn’t have an excuse to walk away from Todd and his crazy notions. “Good afternoon, Maryann. This is Kendrick. I am available all afternoon tomorrow to fill out paperwork. Sorry to have missed your call. Let me know the best time for you. Thank you for this opportunity.” I clicked end call and pocketed my phone, only to look over and see Todd hitting play on a video of someone dressed in heavy leather spanking a woman who was tied down.

“See? This is what they do there. I swear. I’ll call the guy who sent me this and you can talk to him if you want.” Todd’s voice faded away as I watched the video. It was on a loop and kept repeating the same minute. The woman had mascara tracks down her cheeks and was looking over her shoulder at this big brute as he spanked her, telling her she was a bad girl and needed punished.

“I don’t care what your friend sent you. There’s no way they are a sex club. I did my research.” Deep down I was a little shocked, but not at the woman being tied down and spanked, not at finding out Possession was a sex club, but of the raging hardon hiding behind my untucked button-down shirt.

You can find a new episode of Possession Every Thursday – Exclusively on Radish!

You can find more delicious and naughty stories over at Masturbation Monday hosted by the lovely Kayla Lords. If you haven’t submitted your own story as well, and write romance, erotica, or some combination of the genres and sub-genres, please consider doing so.

Link: Masturbation Monday

Link: Kayla Lords