This Wish I Wish Tonight

Star light....

He kissed me. 

On that rooftop, with the mist causing the lights to halo, making the black of night turn grey, he cupped my cheeks, ever so gently, and with no hesitation, he kissed me.

My knees didn’t just go weak; they melted. 

It wasn’t just surprise and shock that caused my heart to race, and then to stop.

When I had texted him with the words – I’ve always wanted to be kissed on a rooftop. Wanna oblige? – I never expected he would take me up on it. He was sober. Me? Not so much.

Star bright...

Friends. It’s a word I take very seriously. Especially with him.

But, this felt more than friendly. More than someone obliging a fantasy.

Maybe it was the gallon of wine I’d consumed. But my body tingled. My pussy clenched, and I could feel dampness slicking my thighs that had nothing to do with the weather.

I heard a holler from behind him. We were being watched.

I didn’t care. I’d put on a show. 

Just please don’t stop.

In the middle of the magic Mother Nature was creating around us, something was unleashed. I barely had a handle on my self-control as his tongue explored my mouth, his hands remaining steady on my back.

The first star I see tonight...

I wanted to whisper to him to put his hands on me… 

to run them over my body... 

I wanted those long fingers to tangle in my hair… 

pull at my curls so he could take my mouth harder…

wetter…

faster…

slower.

A bundle of contradictions and ellipses, feelings and hormones crashed and clashed in my mind and body.

As his lips encased mine, as our tongues danced in a first moment, time stopped for me, and it seems I wanted harder than I’d ever wanted before.

Dared I ask?

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight....

©Miz Angell 2017

HOLY HELL - has it been that long....

Wow. It's been a long time since I've posted. In fact, I seem to have neglected this blog altogether. I'm so sorry.

I won't bore you to death with tales of writers block and shit happening at home. I will say that I've made lifestyle changes, for the better. Hopefully more good things will follow.

In the meantime, I figured I'd post something - anything - that was creative and in the erotica vein.

I don't have anything complete, but what I do have are a bunch of WIP's (works in progress for you non-writer types).

Sooooo, in order for me to not feel like a total failure, I'm going to post one of those.

Let me know what you think.




Tonight, I wanted you.

Shamefully, embarrassingly, desperately wanted you. I know I shouldn't, for so very many reasons. But then again, I've never been one to pay attention to rules, let alone play by them.

I wanted your attention. I was a whore for it. I dressed the part - short, flirty skirt with knee high fuck-me boots. Holey sweater with tight glittered tank beneath. Red - festive.

Glittery eyes - black and red. The night's theme.

Laughter throughout the night. Side glances down the table. Comments and innuendos, playful, flirty, fraught with meaning, hints.

Dares.

Whipped cream on my coffee, lifted by a scarlet tipped finger, sucked into glossy lips and a promising smile.

Did you notice? Were you aware of me as I was of you, when I grabbed your arm and leaned in a little closer than normal? Could you smell my arousal, my thighs slick under my skirt? My black and red thong was no help against the rush of lust that coated my skin. Simply because you were near.

Had it been you driving me home, would I have made it there? I was drunk. But not so much so that I wouldn't have known what I was doing. That what I was doing wasn't what I wanted.

I would have dragged you to me, tasting smoke and beer on your lips. Pressed my body to yours. In my heels, I was almost your height.

Would you have read the signs? Could you tell that a tilt of my head, leaving my neck exposed is an invitation to nibble, or lick? Would we have moved to the backseat, where we could shed some winter layers, lying skin to skin? Or would we just have made out in the parking lot like two horny teenagers who couldn't get enough?

Or would it have been worth the speeding ticket to get me to your place, into your bed, where you could have me, how you wanted me, whichever way you wanted?

And will it still be there tomorrow, I wonder as I lay in bed, my hand drifting down to stroke my smooth lips, slipping into myself as I picture your smile, and hear your voice. Would the lust still fill me with a want so hot that it burned me from the inside out?

My fingers lightly pet my sensitive clit, the sensations beginning already.

Liquid courage.

What happens when the drink wears off - but the want is still there?

Too many places to hide.

No place to hide for long.


Comments?

Pimping out the Seasons...

Well, one anyway....Sommer (Marsden that is). I'll be back later with my day 28 contribution for NaPoWriMo.

(pimped out with gleeful permission)

"Have you ever been in love, Aurelia? For real?”

I stared at him, my heart feeling too small. Like it might fall all the way through my body to my feet.

“What do you mean?”

How fucking stupid of a question was that?

“Like your palms sweat and your upper lip feels tingly and your stomach churns so much you can’t tell if it’s good or bad. You’re more concerned for him at times than yourself. You think about him, dream about him, want to touch him randomly. Just to touch him. Like…if he hurts you, you can still forgive him, even if you wouldn’t forgive anyone else in the world. Like there’s not enough air when he’s not around. And sometimes when he is.”

He rattled it all off and my mouth got dryer and dryer and dryer. I thought of Jackson and my affection for him, but how easy it was for me to hurt him repeatedly to give myself solace. The other boyfriends who I promptly turned from when things got too sticky, too intense or they seemed to feel too much for me. Even the one guy—Chad— I was sure I had loved once upon a time at the beginning of college who I simply dumped one day and had never looked back.

He’d told me he loved me. I’d broken up with him and had never taken another of his calls. Woulnd't come to the door when he visited.

Johnny was waiting. I could feel him watching me as I remembered giving up the pain about Fallon--just letting it go. Chalking it up to his pain being expressed. His fear guiding him. I thought about hurting for him when he’d told me about his son. His loss. His rage at himself. I thought about all of it and how when he touched me it was like a fine mesh of electricity settling over my skin— an invisible net. Or how when he looked at me a certain way I wanted to open my mouth and say things I swore I never would.

Or how there never seemed to be enough god damned air when he was around. And even less when he wasn’t. I shook my head, bit my lip and echoed LL, “Nah. I don’t think so.”

Like what you've read? Head over to Unapologetic Fiction - Wanderlust and follow Really & Johnny's adventures from the beginning. Sommer Marsden is brilliant!

PS - have an answer for Johnny? Post it here - I'll pass it on to Sommer. I'll start - I have. And had my heart and soul ripped out because of it.

Pimpin' ain't easy...that's why I'm GIVING it away

And by pimping I mean self ... promotion.  I've never really had to do this before so I'm new - I hope there's a learning curve.

In order to promote the wonderful anthology Kinkyville, I am giving away five free pdf files to the first readers who contact me.  The catch?  A review up on any of the sites where Kinkyville can be found, and then drop me a comment here or an email with a link to the review so that we all know if you liked it or not.

PSST - trust me, you're gonna like it. *wink*

Kinkyville (and it's older by three minutes sister Dirtyville) can be found LIVE and available for a low, low cost at ...

Smashwords

1RomanceEbooks

1EroticaEbooks

Spastic Girl Press

Book Strand

Amazon.com


AND you can purchase a double helping of erotica - both Dirtyville and Kinkyville in one volume - at a reduced rate EXCLUSIVELY at 1RomanceEbooks.

So what the hell are you waiting for?  Five copies up for grabs, right here, right now.