Forgive me Father...

Indecent little secret huh? Well, let's see here...

Senior year of high school. A group of us known as the Chaplaincy Riff Raff - called so because we never wore our uniforms proper, we never went to class, and we were always in the throes of ultimate slacking - had taken control of the chaplain himself, and he always allowed us to use his office, as long as we didn't get busted by anyone in administration. ( He felt that we were in control of our own lives, and the choice whether or not to go to class was ultimately ours. Plus, he liked having us kids for company. He always tried to appear hipper than he was, and our conversations with him were completely out in space.)

This day, it's just myself, and Dok. He has a crush on me and I've never given him a second look. I always had my eye on his best friend.

Second period - the office should be empty. Father Miles is supposed to be giving a lecture in my OAC theology class, which I'm skipping (technically I'm repeating the class as I dropped out for a year - 18 feels so much older than 17 when you're the one left behind). Sitting in Miles' office, my feet up on his desk, Doc Martin's casually undone and my skirt blowing in the breeze from the fan, I'm reading a trashy romance novel. The ultimate picture of a teenage rebel. All I'm missing is a smoke.


Enter Dok, with his headphones on and a copy of Interview with a Vampire in his hands. He flops on the sofa, giving me a courteous nod. With both of us submerged in our books, we still steal glances at each other, pretending to examine the wall, or look at the clock whenever our eyes meet. His dark eyes caress me, and suddenly the breeze under my skirt isn't enough to stop the wet heat between my thighs. I slowly remove my school hoodie, tossing it to the side, and unbuttoning my blouse to expose my low cut tank. I could have meowed, I was feeling so sex kittin-ish.

As I look at my book it hits me, that while I feel this way, it's about Dok! That's not part of the plan at all. Then, I hear the door open again. Thinking that it's just one of the Riff Raff seeking refuge from another boring class, I stay put, breathing a sigh of relief. With another body in the room, maybe this sexual tension would fade. It's just biology anyway, right?

Instead I hear Miles' voice, along WITH the vice principal. I hit the lights and dive onto the sofa, my hand across Dok's mouth. I'm praying that they have no reason to enter the office, and lie as still as can be. He looks confused and I put my mouth right to his ear. "Miles is outside with Jenkins." His hair tickles my lips, and my breath is uneven. He nods briefly.


My body grows warm with the awareness as I feel his body under mine. His hard abs press against my softer ones, and my bare thigh rubs against his silky dress pants. I am fully aware that my tits are falling out of the scant tank top, and they're practically at his mouth. All I need to do is move my hand.....


I feel my fingers moisten, as Dok begins sucking on my digits one by one. And sure as can be, my fingers aren't the only things moist now. His hand, trapped between our bodies, begins to gather the material of my kilt and pull it up. I hesitate briefly, and then move slightly to allow it. Then, with my heart pounding in my chest, and my thighs slippery with anticipation, he moves the slight material of my thong, and begins to rub my clit with his thumb, the rest of his fingers journeying their way down to my slit.

He inserts one finger in me, gently, but firm. I close my eyes in ecstasy as he twists in and out of my wetness. A second finger joins, and the pummeling comes harder, and faster. His thumb is still working on my clit. I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. Getting busted is not high on my to-do list. I clutched at his trench coat, my body going into spasms as I come again and again.

Right then and there, he gave me the best orgasm I'd ever had, and I gave up on his best friend. We never actually got together as a couple, but it was a while before we let anyone else skip class with us.


©2008

"Having sex is like playing bridge. If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand."

Oh My GODDESS

Today I am worshipping at the feet of a newly discovered blogger, an artist who paints the most erotic pictures with her words. I find myself reading them aloud, and desperate to fuck afterwards.

The indescribable A. Secret at Pocket Secrets mesmerized me from the second I saw the first entry I read. As You Wish.....by the end I was wondering where the fucking lamp was so I could rub it.

If you don't get your asses over there to check out her assets, amongst other things, then I will have to question your sanity. When someone writes a line like What if another is fucking my mind. And what if I am liking it, there's just no way to NOT read the rest of their prose.

I am in love, horny as hell, and aiming to find someone to do something about it.

Only the young can say...

I was just MSN'ing with a friend of mine who happens to be male, younger and YUMMY. He's got tickets for a Trooper show in Barrie this weekend, and was complaining cuz everyone he was supposed to go with backed out.

Immediately my response was to sit on my hands in order not to type "I'LL GO". I mean, the other half would freak out immensely if I was to leave for the weekend with no one but this absolutely delish younger man. This is the equation that would pop into his mind:

MIZ ANGELL + YOUNGER MAN + CLASSIC ROCK + WEEKEND AWAY = DIVORCE

I had a few other equations popping through my head. My imagination just ran wild with me. Oh the things I could do with that boy....and I do mean boy, despite the fact that he is in his early twenties. I could try and sneak away for the weekend. I'm sure I have a friend or two that owns a cottage that would cover for me. Just him, and me, and tunes that make me want to rip clothing off and fuck wildly into the night....sometimes in private even.

Mrs. Robinson ain't got nothing on me.

So, would you go?


"If you won't sleep with me this time, Benjamin, I want you to know you can call me up any time you want and we'll make some kind of arrangement."

Three is always better than two....

About a two weeks ago, Alison Tyler asked us about threesomes. She asked for, and I quote "a fantasy about a three-some, or one that really happened."


Is this one real, or fantasy? I think I'll let you decide.....

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

How very silly of him, I thought to myself. How could he leave me alone with these two beautiful men? The answer was simple - he trusted me implicitly. Up to that point, he had every reason to.

Tonight, however, he should have played it smart.

"I'll meet you guys back at Don's at eleven." he said before he kissed me goodbye. Thinking Don's roommate was home, that we would just watch movies or play video games. Or drink.

Well, he got that part right anyway.

I drove us to the local ski hill, which doubled as a regular party place in the off season, whether for teenagers, or kids. I parked at the base of the hill, the night silent as it enveloped us. It was spring, and still a little cool for the kids to be out playing, as they normally would in warmer weather. Don passed me the bottle of Southern Comfort he had started. I gripped the neck, and took a long swallow, shuddering. I hated the taste of liquor, but hey - we had time to kill.

From the backseat, Mike reached up for his turn. Handing it back to him, his fingers lingered on mine, and the resulting heat could have turned April to July. I knew what he wanted, what we all wanted. We’d been tiptoeing around each other in public for quite some time, but now, with two hours to kill, the sexual tension was stifling.

I felt his blue eyes strip me to the skin, as he gulped back two or four shots of the sweet liquid and handed it back to Don. “Does the seat go back?” Without speaking, I lowered the driver’s side, gazing up at him from flat on my back. Don leaned over and kissed me, his mouth full of booze, forcing it into my mouth, and down my throat. I coughed, but managed to keep it under control. His hands unbuttoned the shirt I was wearing, parting the panels of silk to reveal my soft belly. I tried to cover up, self conscious about my weight. I’d been with Don before, but the encounters had always been desperate, clandestine affairs, fully clothed in a public place. My body wasn’t something I was proud of, but at this point, neither of the gorgeous men in front of me cared.

They just wanted to fuck. And so did I.

Mike grabbed my hands, as Don unhooked the front clasp on my bra, and immediately took a breast in his mouth. I moaned in pleasure, and Mike released my hands, tearing his clothes off, and instructing Don to remove the rest of mine. Fortunately, I was in a skirt, so there wasn’t much to remove. When all three of us were naked, we figured the logistics of trying to have a threesome in a Pontiac Grand Am. Thankfully, the back seat folded down, and the front seats went back.

I lay with the lower half of my torso in the spacious trunk, Mike on top of me, eager to sink his rock hard cock into my waiting pussy. Don knelt on the passenger seat, stroking his impressive erection, and my mouth opened automatically. Both men looked at each other, and in a silent countdown, both sank their engorged rods into my hot, wet holes.

Don thrust into my mouth over and over, forcing himself down my throat, as Mike pounded at my slit, his pubic bone striking my clit with every thrust, and causing me to come much quicker than I would have liked. My hands clutched at my tits, pinching and pulling at my nipples as I moaned around Don’s cock.

Mike pulled out. “This is killing my back, and frankly, I want to feel that hot little mouth of hers around my cock. I’ve got another idea.” Don helped me up and, moving me to the front seat, one knee balanced on the drivers side, he impaled me from behind, as Mike lay back on the bed the seats made, and I anxiously took him inch by inch down my waiting throat.

Don bent over me, his face a mere inches from Mikes in the enclosed space, as my tits swung back and forth and I bobbed up and down on Mike’s knob. This was a much more comfortable position and we established a better rhythm. My clit was still throbbing from all the contact it had before, and a mere touch of Don’s finger sent me spiraling into space again.

Don groaned, a sure signal he was going to come, and grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing me off Mike and almost banging my head on the roof. His free hand grasped my clit and pulled hard on it, causing me to scream in ecstasy, as my juices mingled with Don’s and ran down my thighs.

Mike, turned on by the sight of me in total submission, began jerking his fist around his cock, which looked ready to explode. “Let her go Don. I want her to swallow this.” Don obliged, shoving me forward, my mouth ready and willing. I took him back in my mouth with seconds to spare as he shot his load down my throat.

I eagerly swallowed every last drop, and collapsed on his thighs. Don had moved into the driver’s seat and was leaning against the door, panting. The bottle was passed around again. This time, I just rinsed out my mouth with it, and popped a mentos. I climbed out of the car to get dressed, not caring if anyone saw me after what I had just gone through. The boys did the same, and we drove back to Don’s with the windows down, to rid the car of that “just been fucked” smell.

When Kevin walked into Don’s place half an hour later, we were watching a movie….



©2008


Pandora's proverbial box had been opened, and what's more, none of us were sure that we wanted it closed again. (Threesome 1994)

Got writers block? GO SHOPPING

All I have to say is that thanks to Alison Tyler, my life is NEVER going to be the same again. That trollop has got me thinking SEX ALL THE TIME. (ok, peanut gallery - this is where you keep your mouths shut - here - have a lolly).

Also, she has introduced her devoted, devout and loyal voyeurs readers to the wonderful artists at Etsy. If you're a fan of Alison's, you've seen a lot of different artists on there. From the sublime to the silly, from the kinky to the sweeeeeeeet (ie/ the above lolly's). You can do a search for any terms, and I have. Most of them were four lettered ones too. LOL.

I spent today surfing the site, and these are some of the wonderful items that could make me a whole lot poorer in the pocketbook (if I can't resist buying), but they're going to make my imagination a whole lot richer.


Take these lovely items for example....

All they are missing is a couple of D rings on the front of them. There's a thrilling story, and experience, somewhere in there, I'm sure of it.



I just fell for these earrings - although I probably wouldn't wear them, the scene depicted is HOT. I'm tempted to try and reproduce it in reality - well, the outfit and pose and bondage part anyway. Don't know where I'd find the giant boot....

It's my new cure for writers block. Whenever I'm stuck, I'll just surf on over and see what the lovely artisians have to offer by way of kink, promise, and imagination.

Thanks Alison - now I'll have to get a third job.

I WANT THESE

Darling hubby's nickname is Batman. Maybe if I bought these, he might clue in and be inspired.


What do you think?

Music to Quiver to

Ok, anyone who knows me knows that music drives me. It's an integral part of what makes me who I am. And in a lot of cases, music is what inspires a lot of my writing. Especially my erotica.

Anyone who's read some of my older stories can see the influence of music in them. I often picture the action timed with the soundtrack before I can write the words. The trouble is being able to be descriptive enough without being redundant, or long winded. It's not easy walking that fine line. You don't want to lose the reader, but you want to be able to do the scene, and your characters, justice.

Sometimes it's not the whole song that makes my knees turn to jelly, or gets me hot. Sometimes it's just one or two lines. Example - I'm sitting here, listening to music and praying that I win the lottery so I don't have to come back to this soul-sucking-life-killing day job that I can't fucking stand, and Hysteria by those long haired gods of rock comes on. And yes - I mean Def Leppard. The song plays, and while it registers with my brain, nothing happens until these lyrics send my body quivering.

I've gotta know tonight
If you're alone tonight
Can't stop this feeling now
Can't stop this fight

Suddenly I'm seeing two bodies, standing an inch apart, barely touching, and the heat between them could melt an ice cap in the South Pole. Putting myself in one of the bodies, I can feel the others breath on my neck...can feel their pulse through their fingers, which aren't even touching skin...can see the moisture beading up in the hollow of their throat...

Ummm, sorry. Where was I?

Yep, this happens often.

It's not always a hot scene either. I mean, well, it can be. But there's another one that goes through my head on a constant basis. It involves a past lover, and all we'd gone through. When I hear Chasing Cars, from Snow Patrol, suddenly I go back in time, and all the good times we had play out, like in a music video. And I feel like I'm a ghost or a spirit, standing, watching, but not seen. I keep thinking that it would be a great video if I knew anyone who did that sort of thing, and then I would have to convince the ex to go for it. So it's the sort of thing that's better left either in my head or on paper. Unfortunately, without listening to the song, I doubt it would hold a lot of poignency for the reader. So in my head it shall remain.

Enough schmaltz. I hate when I get that way. I spend so many moments crying over stupid shit, I don't want to relive it and cry some more.

So some songs that really inspire me *wink wink*? Let's see what Mr Ipod can cough up.

*Moonlight Desires - Lawrence Gowan
*Another - Glen Burtnick
*Blue Monday - remake by Fluke
*Closer - NIN
*Animal - Def Leppard
*Lips of An Angel - Hinder
*Love In An Elevator - Aerosmith
*Wicked Games - Chris Issac
*One Night Love Affair - Bryan Adams
*Cry Little Sister - Sisters of Mercy
*Bring me To Life - Evanessence
*Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode
*Master & Servant - Depeche Mode
*Sunrise - Simply Red
*Harder to Breathe - Maroon 5
*Broken - Seether
*almost anything by Nickleback
*Your Song - Ewan McGregors version
*When You Were Young- The Killers

And those are just a brief sampling of the over three thousand tunes I have on my iPod. They don't count the ones that make my knees weak for personal reasons...otherwise I'd have to list over a thousand songs. Maybe I'll do another post in the future.

Not like I ever get a lot of responses, but I'll ask anyway - does music inspire your writing? And if so, is there a particular band (Dayle, I know the answer to this one for you LOL), or one song in particular that has been uber-inspiring?

SHARE people - after all, we're all friends here, right?