May 19

Mischa Eliot

Sharing is Caring: Blackmailing the Babysitter by Liam Alexander

Welcome to another installment of Sharing is Caring! This time around I’ve gotten a submission from Liam Alexander. Please enjoy the excerpt from Blackmailing the Babysitter. Make sure to follow Liam on Twitter and say hello!

“Before we decided to hire a babysitter, Barb had me install a hidden webcam in the living room,” he explained.
Aimee’s stomach turned to ice. Holy shit! she thought. Could they have seen her when she was…no, there was no way they could have seen that little incident a week or two ago! It was too dark for a little video camera to pick up…
“Wh-what did you see?” Aimee asked, trying to appear calm and failing miserably. Robert looked down and sighed. He opened up a laptop on the desk.
“I was going through the recording of last week,” Robert said, pressing on an icon on the screen, “and this is what saw.”
Shit! Shit! Shit! Aimee kept repeating in her mind. A small window opened, playing a grainy black-and-white video. It showed Aimee, recognizable even in the night vision of the camera, sitting on the living room couch. There was a faint source of light that shined on her, presumably from the television screen.
On the video, Aimee was wearing a lightly-colored top and a dark miniskirt. The skirt was pulled up, though one couldn’t see much because her hand was in the way, her fingers fiercely at work on her clit. She was biting her lip, her back arching a little. Beyond anything else, the look in her eyes made one thing perfectly clear: She was certainly enjoying herself.

Bio: I’m a married father of two living in Washington state, though I grew up in New England. I have been working on a fantasy novel for years now but decided to try my hand at writing erotica (a therapist told me to keep my girlfriends on paper, so that’s what I’m doing). I enjoy writing because it is my escape from an otherwise mundane life.

Twitter | Smashwords

Random Facts About Yourself: I test bubble wrap for a living. I’m not joking, either.

May 17

Mischa Eliot

Adventures in Writing: Winding Path

Writing isn’t easy. It’s hard. It was never meant to be easy.

My writing history has been a winding path. Sometimes, I barrel off that path into the unknown, machete waving back and forth trying to forge my own way. And that’s how it should be. We should all find our own way of doing this thing. Creating universes from nothingness isn’t an easy thing. And in a way, that’s what we do. We create something from letters, painting pictures with pretty words, that cause someone to feel bliss or anger or freedom.

I’ll be honest with you. I don’t feel like I’m very good at this whole writing thing. I’m not fishing for compliments. I have read so many amazing stories over the years and sometimes, like others, I get that “why didn’t I think of that!?” feeling. We all get that. I also have a hard time finding books that I can keep reading these days, or listening to. Sometimes, it’s me. Other times, it’s definitely the book. I’m sure there are hundreds, maybe thousands, of people who love the books I want to throw out the window, so I don’t feel bad about it.

There are so many story ideas written down in my files, and I’m working on way too many things at once, procrastination is attached to me like a symbiotic parasite and some days I feel all tied up. Ropes and knots rub and chafe. I feel like there’s no way I can finish anything because there’s so much to do. I’ve been asked to write guest posts as well, which I have no idea what to do there, how to do it… It’s a little scary and so I haven’t done it. I want to write something sexy, something intriguing. Something that makes someone feel gooey inside like a melty chocolate chip cookie.

I’ve seen people quit. Whether temporary due to crazy stress with every day life, or just poof, vanish altogether, never to be seen again. I wasn’t called to writing. In fact, I still believe the universe, multiverse, deity, spirit, God… whatever you may call it, wanted me desperately to be a therapist of some kind. I’m way too sensitive for that and way too empathetic to be able to handle the emotional stress that would most likely come along with that and I continually say no. On the other side of the coin, I have a very difficult time telling some people to suck it the fuck up and quit whining. Then I want to quote Yoda and say Do or Do Not, There is no Try.

I write because I enjoy writing. I may not be great when it comes to sticking to a tense (always learning) but we all have our faults. I bet my 9th grade English teacher would be devastated knowing that I write. He was a nitpicker, but I learned more from him than anyone. I barely passed that class with a D, but I kept my notes from that class for years.

Basically, what I’m saying is either shit or get off the pot. Nothing in this world is truly easy to do – except giving up.


May 16

Mischa Eliot

A Penny for your Thoughts: Off the Rails

I feel like I owe an explanation for my lack of posting, twittering, and so forth. I haven’t been pressured for it or anything, but it’s weighing on me and I wanted to let everyone know that things are about to be back to normal (whatever normal is… I tend to be a bit weird.)

The past few weeks have been kind of crazy around here. If you’re here often, (or follow me on Twitter) then you know it drives me a touch {batshit} crazy to have two Masturbation Monday posts in a row. The simple fact that I didn’t have a post scheduled – when I knew things were going to be off the rails – is sad.

I’m almost always writing. I write blog posts that you’ll never see because by the time I’m done with them, the feeling is over and I can’t seem to recapture the zealousness I felt when the idea struck. Every week (minus the few in the beginning that I miss) I write a Masturbation Monday post. I have been working on a new Sizzling Nibble for months. I started trying out TMI Tuesday and Wicked Wednesday.

I ended up in kind of a funky brain fog for a little while. With my daughter heading into her last finals week, planning to move, and graduating college all in a very short span of time, things around the house were a bit stressed. It’s a lot, especially when it happens all at once.

After she moved out, I started getting the house back in order. I’ve always been a lazy cleaner, but there was so much to be done, I knew that if I didn’t tackle a lot of the big stuff at once, I would never do it. I took last Friday off work and scrubbed the bathroom to within an inch of its so-called life. Then I went through the burn box to separate stuff that actually could be burned vs. the items that aren’t supposed to be burned. I also rescued several books that I’m going to donate because they shouldn’t be burned. Once that was taken care of (the box still hasn’t been burned… because: lazy) I started on the rest of the living room which means moving furniture and so forth. After that, I swept and scrubbed floors, and started on the kitchen.

I’m still working on the kitchen but it’s coming together. I mean, I took time to scrub the fridge as well as I scrubbed the bathroom because pineapple juice is always and forever sticky until you get hot water, Dawn, and a scrub brush. I have to figure out what to do with some pots and pans that need replaced and reorganize the cupboards.

There are so many things I’ve been working on, and so many ideas that I’ve had piling on top of me, that I’ve also been procrastinating. The fact that I still have not finished 7 Days of Sin: Flashed on Friday yet makes me want to pull my hair out. The story is freaking hot. I keep getting more details about the characters and what makes them tick, which is definitely a good sign that the story needs to be written.

There’s also a Sizzling Nibble that’s been pinging around the back of my mind. I’ll be revisiting that day at the Park again with Soaked at the Park. It’s a naughty semi-taboo story. I’ve also started writing a story involving Jacob from Punished by the Boss (and the others that go with it). The incredibly talented Dr. J. and I have something in the works as well and I feel terrible because I haven’t touched it since it started.

And there’s more, because there’s always more. I think my muse likes to sit around and think of ways to torment me with salacious story ideas and then cackle in glee while I chase them around with a net that has a hole in it. However, there’s good news, too! The sun has finally found Ohio again and I’m starting to feel that funkified fog start to dissipate. I can see further down the road and I know that I need to make a list of things to do.

What have you been letting boil over on the burner due to fog or fatigue or your creativity train hopping the rails? 

May 15

Mischa Eliot

Masturbation Monday: Sunlit Caress

Sometimes, you need a special getaway at an amazing spa with a masseur willing to step over the line to help you relax.


Thanks, Google Image Search

Strong hands ran down my back to my hips, hitting pressure points and finding the tense knots embedded in my body. “Breathe. Let your thoughts flow freely.”

Declan’s words caressed my ears the same way his hands were caressing my body. If I were wearing panties, they’d have dropped to the floor, regardless of the fact that I was lying face down on a massage table.

The two-day spa getaway had been forced upon me, and seven on a Saturday morning was a worst-case scenario for a night owl like me, but once he got to work on the kinks in my body, I had no regrets. I’d never had a massage outdoors before, but the early morning sun kissed my skin and the chirping was pleasant and relaxing.

“Quit clenching your jaw. I can’t work out everything if you don’t let yourself go.” That honey-warm voice slipped over me.

“Sorry, sometimes I just can’t quite get there. I’m the worst person for a massage. It’s been a rough couple of months as well.” Just telling him this while he worked his magic fingers helped. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. The muscles of his arms, his warm, sultry voice, and his touch infused my fantasies.

“No worries. I have no other appointments this morning. I’m all yours.” Desire dripped from his words and heat filled every inch of me.

For a moment, I wondered if I had fallen asleep and this was all a dream, but then he went to work on my feet and a moan of pleasure ripped through me like never before. “Oh, fuck that’s good.” My fingers clenched and my lust raised to a new level. I wondered how much of him was all mine.

By the time I caught my breath and the glow of mini-climax faded, Declan had moved back up to my neck and shoulders. “Oh, now that’s much better. You’ve still got tension knots, but these are much more manageable.”

The grin on his face was all the ‘yes’ I needed.

I melted beneath his ministrations. His fingers pushed and pulled and pinched, then moved along. There wasn’t any way for me to stop the twitches and occasional squirming. My thighs were sticky and I wanted him to touch me elsewhere, massage me in a way that was most likely frowned upon in such a high-end establishment.

Declan slid his fingers down my back, over the slope of my ass, to my thigh. “How relaxed do you want to go, Lacey?” Fingertips squeezed and kneaded my thighs. For a moment, I thought I felt the heat of his breath against my skin.

“I want to be so relaxed I won’t want to move for a week.” The words came out as a whisper and I thought he may not have heard me. The table shifted and the blanket was removed from my backside. A cool breeze incited the heat between my legs.

Strong fingers, Declan’s fingers, lifted and separated my cheeks. I automatically opened my thighs further, giving him even more access. “God, you smell tasty. I wanted to taste you the second I saw you.” Warm, wetness covered my pussy lips. He licked me clean, like a melting ice cream cone.

As he worked his wicked tongue on me, I stiffened back up, a different kind of ache arcing through my limbs. Declan teased me with that tongue, flicking my clit with the tip, then licking me all the way up. I gripped the edge of the bed, nails digging into the mattress.

He wasn’t done with me. Declan lifted me a little and sucked on me, nibbled on me, and when I least expected, slid two thick fingers deep inside. “Yes, yes. There, oh right there.” Words failed me for the most part, all except the ones that mattered.

“What about there?” Declan whispered in my ear, all that honey and sex dripping from his husky voice and I shattered. My walls clenched onto his fingers as he worked me, his teeth nibbled on my shoulder. I dug my fingers harder into the mattress, blissful cries echoed off the wall that blocked the little grove we were in.

He moved off the table with the prowess of a man who knew what he was capable of. I laid there, in my blissful afterglow as Declan recovered my flesh. No idea where I got the strength from, I sat up to lean on one elbow and look at him. “Any chance I can have another round somewhere more private and with you naked?”

The grin on his face was all the ‘yes’ I needed.

In case you were unaware, May is Masturbation Month! Kayla is doing something really awesome and you should definitely stop by and check it out!

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

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