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Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Talk to me about procrastination....

And I'll let you know why I'm the queen.

I just finished my second course towards my publishing certificate. And it was a tough one. Any of my friends on here will tell you that if you thought you knew about editing before, once you take an actual copy-editing course, you find you know NOTHING. I'm still fuzzy-brained from the information overload. Well, if nothing else, it will make me a better writer - I hope.

It's now *checks calendar* three days until Christmas. I have NOT finished my shopping, nor have I finished wrapping the gifts I currently have. And add to that, I do NOT have the week off between Christmas and New Years like I did last year. So all the things I was hoping to accomplish between those two dates are going to be crammed into two days instead of seven.

GLEEP.

I owe our lovely Trollop Alison about thirty thousand reviews for the numerous lovely little PDF's she's sent me. I owe a few to the wonderful Sommer Marsden for the gifts of hot novels she so generously sent my way as well. I need to finish (well, start first THEN finish) my entry for the next round of Project Smutway. I have characters begging to be let out, tied down, pillaged, plundered and all that good stuff if I could just get my muse to sit still for thirty seconds. (My WIP file is insanely huge).

I need to clean my apartment - and clean it out too. 

I need to sort some personal shit. I need to figure out the next step on my path, making sure I keep to the paved road and not wander down to the river and drown.

But, no matter what - I am grateful. I have a loving family, who is always there for me.

I have wonderful friends, who are incredibly supportive of everything I do, even when they don't agree with it, and love me no matter what type of mess I am (or am IN).

And I have the butterflies, which make life so much harder and easier all at the same time. But I wouldn't give them up for the world.

One day I'll explain those to you.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

It's December 1...

Not only is today World Aids Day, but it's also the birthday of someone near and dear to my heart (and I'm sure some other body parts appreciate her too). 

Happy Birthday to the gorgeous, talented, quirky, adorable, and oh-so-FAB-U-LOUS Sommer Marsden!

In honor of both these days, I've found the perfect combination of sexy birthday wish and red ribbon.


So pop on over to give her a whack on that cute little ass of hers, toast her with a glass of wine (in crystal no less that thankfully didn't shatter when I sang to her this morning) and maybe read some of her stuff.  I hear she's pretty good....at writing that is.



Monday, November 29, 2010

Olly Olly Oxen Free...

My muse finally came out of hiding. Not sure if it's any good or not, but apparently it was inspired by Aisling Weaver's two brilliant poetry submissions today.

SIGH - here goes nothing.


Those eyes are my undoing.
I picture them in my sleep, in my waking hours, 
in my dreams, in my thoughts…
They see right through me, into the core of my soul.
There are no secrets from the heat of his gaze.
It is much more than desire,
So much more than need.
It is fact.
Those eyes are my undoing.
And I am happily undone.

Under Pressure....

Round eight of Project Smutway is over and I survived once again! Thanks to all who went and voted for this piece.  Pressure is right!  Congrats to the lovely and talented Emma Hillman, who's amazingly hot and sexy In The Middle took first prize this round.  If you didn't get a chance to read all the entries, pop over to Alison's blog and check them out.


Decisions


No pressure. Right.

They’d been doing this dance for months.

I want you.
I want you.
Tell me you want me too.

Her eyes laughed at him, her mouth teased him.

She was waiting. Her v-neck sweater strained to keep her braless breasts inside, thin cotton skirt swirling above her knees. Head cocked to one side to reveal her neck, which she’d told him was her weak spot.

Her scent permeated the air around them; musky, fruity.

Sex.

He had to make the move. He knew she wanted it.

But no pressure

His cock strained against his pants, demanding to fuck her. And he wanted to give in.

He wanted her sharp tongue bathing his shaft, wanted to look down at her on her knees while she sucked his prick into her naughty mouth.

His gaze travelled down, where her wet pussy waited for him to claim her.

Take her now, or never have the chance again. She was tired of waiting.

Her hands wandered to pluck at her nipples. Her eyes drifted closed as she licked her glossed plump lips. One hand wandered further down. She moaned, palming herself through her clothing.

He unzipped his jeans, freeing his aching erection. Stroking it with one hand, he pulled her skirt up, and spread her lips with his fingers, relishing in her heat.

Pulling her close, he thrust his tongue and his cock into her at the same time. She cried out his name as he made her his.

Decision made.


©2010

Thursday, November 11, 2010

A breath away

Just one inch.

Kiss me. I thought.

Just half an inch.

Kiss me. I begged.

Your breath on my face, tickling my ear.

I could feel their shape, see their smile.

A breath away.

Kiss me. I hoped.


©2010

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

The Sisterhood

It was a close one.  This pervy piece got me through round seven of Project Smutway. The idea was to be inspired by sex toys from her sponsor Blowfish.  She gave us 900 words to weave our tales.  I was highly inspired by the glass dildos I saw on the site.  Tell me if this story inspires you.

ENJOY!



The Sisterhood


“Now Shannon, to begin your initiation ceremony, you must kneel before the altar, and speak the words of those who have passed through before you.  Allow the light to enter you freely and without prejudice so that you may go forth and spread his word in the ways of our sisters.  Remember not that which you are leaving behind, but look ahead to those lessons and experiences that await you on your journey.”


Shannon nodded, kneeling, hands tented.  Her eyes closed, and she felt a cool breeze caress her under the thin gossamer cloak, the only clothing allowed in the sanctuary.  Her nipples peaked in response, and a wave of heat shot through her groin. She licked her lips, and spoke, her voice trembling with the realization of the commitment she was about to make.

“Of my own choice, in sound mind, I open my body and my soul to you.  From this day forth, I am the mistress of my own pleasure.  From this day forth, no flesh shall touch my body but my own.”  Her hands drifted down her torso, over her chilling breasts and resting on her taut abs.  She raised her head, gazing at the portrait behind Matron Mary.  It was of Voluptas – the Roman goddess of Sensual pleasure, naked on a bed, one hand between her thighs, the other clutching a long, slightly curved stone phallis.

“As Voluptas before me, I shall not deny myself the pleasure that my body can give me, as it is truly God’s most magnificent gift to us.  I shall seek to bestow that knowledge upon myself daily.  When I am ready, I shall go into the world, and spread the word of these pleasures to my fellow women, and show them that self love is truly the most satisfying”

She stood, arms spread.  “Paradise was lost once, and it is within us to find it again.  We, indeed, are all we need.  We are our own Paradise.”

With that, Shannon was helped up onto the altar with the utmost care.  As she lay back, standing above her was Sister Caroline.  In her hands, she cupped a glass dildo, made in the very image of the one Voluptas held in her hands in the portrait.  The legend spoke that it was molded from the original.  Each girl was presented with one at her initiation. 

She shivered as Sister Lisette slathered it with lube, like it was a real cock.  Carefully and with reverence, she placed it in Shannon’s hands.  She glanced over at the rest of the sisterhood, all watching her with eager eyes.

As she slid the dildo down her body, she rested it briefly on her clit, which was plump with anticipation.  She moved it around slowly, allowing the sensations to build up.  She stroked it up and down, pushed it left and right.  It had been so long since she’d masturbated, in preparation for tonight, that she had to fight herself not to plunge the smooth shaft into her eager pussy.

Instead she circled it around her entrance, her muscles contracting.  She dragged it through the wetness of her slit, pushing the head just inside her.  She let it sit there, relishing in the weight of it, the smooth texture, the sheer thickness.  Her other hand moved up to her breasts, caressing them through her habit.  She pinched at her nipples, whimpering as they tingled.  Her eyes closed, she pushed the dildo in further, stretching her walls and filling her to the core.  She moved it faster, in and out, tuning out the squelching sounds it made as she fucked herself with it. 

Her back arched with every thrust, her breath coming out in gasps as she twisted it, thrusting it forward to hit her G-spot.  Her free hand abandoned her nipples and moved to caress her clit.  She moaned loudly as she felt her insides clench.  She rolled her clit, scratching at the tip with her fingernail, bringing her to the very edge.

She needed to come.  It was the final ritual of the ceremony.  The ladies below all waited, fingers tracing patterns around their own cunts.  Their arousal was evident, as musk permeated the air.  Once she came, they would all celebrate by fucking themselves, celebrating their own bodies, and her acceptance into their family.  They watched carefully, some stroking their own toys as if they could milk them like a real cock.  Some circled them with their tongues, deep-throating them like they had in past lives.  All were eager to come.

Shannon didn’t disappoint them, working her clit and the dildo in the same frantic rhythm.  She shuddered and came with a giant scream, her body stiffening right down to her toes.

It was all the encouragement the girls needed.  As her orgasm slowly subsided, Shannon turned her head to gaze at the bevy of beauties in the throes of their own personal fuck session. 

She sat up on the altar, a little disoriented.  Matron Mary helped her down, and then kissed her lightly on the mouth.

”Welcome to the sisterhood child.”

“Thank you Matron.  I think I’m going to like it here.”



©2010

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Are you in purple?

Amongst all the hectic crap I've got to deal with, I'm hoping that y'all are rocking the purple today, in memory of those CHILDREN who killed themselves because society is full of biggoted assholes who can't stand it when someone is "different".

So wear purple, stand up for those who can no longer stand up for themselves, and show that love is so much stronger than hate.

Over at Toy With Me, Aunt Becky wrote the most beautiful piece.  I highly recommend reading it and passing it on.  Whether it's to a gay friend, or a straight one, I think this is something everyone needs to read.

Here's the link: A Letter to My Gay Friends

Take part today, and every day.

I hope this makes a difference in someone's life today.

Smooches children.