Men should really READ

I'm a writer. It's what I do. No surprise here right?

So, why is it that a man can't figure out that the perfect way to seduce me, is to read what I've written.

Seriously. Pay attention to my stories. Half the time, the main characters are based on me in some form or another. I know it's not always advisable and usually frowned upon in fiction, because then the characters are limited. You say "Well, I'd never do that." With me, it's a little different. There isn't much I wouldn't consider doing, so each main heroine always contains a little bit of me. Whether it's my mannerisms, or my look, or my voice, I'm in there.

And so are all the clues to a perfect seduction.

When I describe a characters wardrobe, chances are it's an outfit I own, or something I've dreamt about owning. And, chances are, the reaction that she gets from her object of affection is the reaction I'd be going for if I was to wear it for you. So if I dress my character in black with a collar, leather wrist cuff and heavy eye makeup, and I write the male's reaction as hard kisses, pulling hair and rough, crazy sex – GUESS WHAT? That's what I want from you when I show up in that outfit. I want you to be rough with me – choke me with your tongue when you kiss me, pull my hair hard, bite my neck. And when you get me naked, slap my ass, slam your cock into me and make me scream in pain and pleasure. No need to hold me, no need for pleasantries. Call me slut, whore, order me to beg for mercy.

On the other hand, the opposite is true too. If I show up to a "date" wearing softer make up (except heavy mascara – always big on the mascara – I LOVE my eyelashes), a chain around my neck and a shirt that leaves my neck and shoulders bare, I'm looking for moonlight and roses, in a manner of speaking. That's when I want soft kisses, caresses, beautiful words and strong arms to hold me. I want you to explore my body, tell me how much I turn you on, tell me you've been dreaming about me, about this moment. I want to shiver when you plant light kisses on the back of my neck, run your fingers down my bare shoulders, cause me to tingle all over. Take your time as you nuzzle my cheek, kiss every inch of skin you can find, stroke my hair, gently pull me in for kisses that turn me inside out and backwards. Trace my mouth with the tip of your tongue, use your fingertips to explore my cheeks, my hairline, before pressing a kiss into my collar bone.

In my stories, or my articles, or my letters – whatever I write – there are hints on what to say, how to say it, and what to look for. If I appear hesitant, by doing your homework, you can tell I'm nervous, even if I don't show it outwardly. A lot of the conversations I have with the men in the stories are ones I wish I could have in real life. Sometimes, when my characters speak, and it's flowery and pretty speeches, it's something that I want to hear, would LOVE to hear.

Pay attention to the settings. If I write about an encounter outdoors, chances are it's doable in the spring and summer months. If I write about a particular place, bring me there. If there's music in the background, what songs are playing? I'll usually name them, or at least the band. My stories come right out of my head, my desires, my needs. It's a recipe if you will, and if you take the time to learn the ingredients, any way you put them together will be a success.

Oh yeah, and you'll be guaranteed to get laid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

deliciously depraved....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All lust, no love. And ultimately...

freedom.







©2009

a flash of kink....

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

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

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Puppet on A String


What had I agreed to?

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

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

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

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

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


©Miz Angell (06.12.09)

Alison's birthday????

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

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

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

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

She is the bubbles in our champagne.

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

She is encouragement and support personified.

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

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

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

making fantasies come true.....

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

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


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

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

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

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

You'll be SO glad you did.

So Much for Later (flash)

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




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

SIGH.

I ignore your audible frustration.

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

“Later.” My tone is annoyed, snappy.

SIGH.

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

Not this time.

Zzzippp.

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

Smack.

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

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

Blop.
Squirch.

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

NO. DISTRACTIONS.

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

Teeth grinding.

GASP.

Squelches as you go faster, and faster still.

“Ohhhhhh! Uhhhh…..”

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

Fucking work.



©Miz Angell 2009