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

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

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

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.

I survived Round Sixxxxx!

And y'know, second place ain't so bad.  Especially when the winning piece was penned by the lovely and talented May Deva.  You can read her winning entry here.

The challenge was to use the word fortune.  Ms. Alison was nice enough to up our word count to 750, but just because there were more, didn't make it any less of a challenge.

Again, I kind of went a different way from most of the entries (all of which were amazing!)  Read them all at Trollop With A Laptop.

Museum Piece

He stood  gazing in lust at the radiant figure standing on the pedestal at the front of the museum.  She stood perfectly still, her dark hair shining under the lights, her skin warmed by the glow of the fortune in jewels she had displayed over her body.

Everybody admired her dedication, not moving for blocks of minutes at a time.  And when she did move, it was a fluid gesture, bringing the jewels around to another angle to display them better; a living advertisement for the exhibit inside.  Most patrons only watched for a minute or two.

Not Daniel.  He had stood watching her for hours, his jacket held in front of him disguising a rather obvious bulge in his pants.  For what he’d discovered, what others would if they’d only take the time to, was that this goddess before him was naked, save for the shiny baubles worth millions that adorned her skin.

Layer upon layer of necklaces hung around her graceful neck.  The hammered gold looked ancient, the stones colours not found in today’s palettes.  The chain fell so that bronze links circled her nipples, little erect pebbles of flesh that quivered when she moved.

Rings of all shapes and sizes rested on long tapered fingers.  Daniel tried to discreetly adjust his hard on as he imagined how those fingers would feel encircling his cock.  How soft they would be as they ran up and down his shaft. 

She shifted again, the floodlights catching the multi-layered belt hugging her hips, drawing attention to the gorgeous diamond embedded in her navel.  Hanging from the very centre were three sun medallions in descending sizes.  They swung from side to side, revealing a smooth bikini line. 

He moved closer, trying hard to catch a glimpse of what it covered.  As he stood there, his eyes captivated, he caught a slight giggle and looked up to find amusement in her eyes.  She still stared straight ahead, but he knew that she was laughing at him. 

Her plump, scarlett lips curled minutely, and she ever so slightly shook her hips.  The suns continued swaying and Daniel got what he wanted - a glimpse of a freshly shaven, smooth, perfect pussy. 

“Oh you’re so bad you know that aren’t you princess?” Daniel murmured, his tone so low she had to strain to hear him above the background noises.  His eyes stroked her from head to toe, hungrily examining long tanned legs, and toned abs. 

He walked around her, examining the pure gold chainmaille apron that barely covered her ass cheeks.  Glancing around, noticing the security guards attention was elsewhere, he slid a finger up her crack, tickling her puckered hole.  Her cheeks clenched together, and he felt her tremble.  Smirking, he ran his finger down the back of her knee.

He moved back around to the front of her.  “You’re getting off on this aren’t you?  Knowing that you’re naked under those jewels, that anyone can tell if they take the time to look?  Showing off that pretty, pretty body of yours?”

His voice grew huskier.  “You enjoy knowing that guys are walking around with hard-ons for hours because of you.  Maybe you think about them going into the men’s room stall and beating off until they come on themselves.”

He got closer to her cunt, sniffing.  “I can smell you.   You are dying for one of those hard cocks right now.”   He licked his lips, observing a thin line of moisture drip down the inside of her thigh.

                                                                                                                                                                                    

“I can see your clit sweetheart.  It’s sitting there, begging to be licked.  I’d take the tip of my tongue, flick it gently, run my tongue between those lips and lick at your sweet juices until you beg me to stop. “ Her thighs trembled and he chuckled.

“Or maybe I’d just step up behind you, pull out my stiff prick and run that up and down your slit instead.  Tease you a little before fucking you slowly, all those pretty jewels bouncing off your tits.  I’d reach around, play with your clit, see how long it takes before that stoic smile on your mouth melts into a panting, hot hole of desire.  I wonder how long it would take you to beg me to let you come. “

He lightly flicked her clit with his finger before hopping down and noticed that she shuddered more visibly. 

“Enjoy the rest of your shift honey.  See you at home.”

©2010

Completely appalled...

Shit is going on in America, and it's got to stop.  Anti-gay sentiments are running rampant all over the media and it's killing it's future. 

My family is Italian.  And Catholic. And my cousin is gay.  And none of us care.  Not even my last-generation from Italy grandparents.

What has been going on in the United States is ... sad.  And disgusting.  When five kids in three weeks commit suicide because of their sexuality, in today's supposed enlightened society, it just proves that most of the country isn't enlightened at all.

My whole life, I've known what a homosexual was.  My aunt had a very good friend whom I had a crush on for years.  He was a walking, talking, living Ken doll.  He was gorgeous and fun, and I wanted him to marry my Aunt.  I was taken aside and given the talk.  She told me that he was a very good friend, and a good person, but he didn't like kissing girls.  I didn't ever see him kiss boys, but I didn't need to.  Somewhere inside I understood what it meant, and it didn't bother me at all.

It still doesn't.  I can't understand why people see it as an abhoration or a sin against God or humanity or whatever shit they're spouting these days.  These are the same people who will go home and tell their spouses, their children, their families "I love you."  How?  How can you possibly know what love is when there is so much HATE inside your heart?

My mom and my aunts were victims of hate crimes in the 60's.  Because they were Italian.  They didn't fit in at their all Anglo school.  They were called names, shunned, ridiculed.  They had done nothing to deserve it, except be born in an Italian family.

There's nothing different about this.  Hate is hate.

People have often asked me why I don't go to church, when I was raised Catholic.  It's quite simple.  I don't believe in religion.  I do believe that there's a higher being up there - and I believe that at the end of our lives, we will be held accountable for our actions down here.  I believe God is love, understanding, and all embracing.  But religion is what tells people that homosexuality is wrong.  It's what brought down the towers, it's what's caused more wars in the history of mankind.  People use it as an excuse for hate - and rarely do they truly celebrate life.

I have many gay friends.  I have many straight friends.  I have Jewish friends, and Irish friends, and Protestant friends, and Islamic friends and .... I could go on and on.

I'll admit - I do discriminate.  But not against race, religion, sexuality or anything of that nature.  I discriminate against ignorance.  I discriminate against hatred.  And I sure as hell discriminate against redneck (adult) fuckers - in positions of power no less -  who blog against KIDS and attack them for being who they are - in this case - gay.  Michigan's Ass't Attorney General Andrew Shirvell did just that to the University of Michigan's Student Council President on his public blog.

Or what about that jackass 50 cent?  His tweet the other day was so revolting I almost threw up.  But kids, for whatever dumbass reason, listen to him.  He's no role model, but he's got the public's attention.

If assholes like that are in positions of power - no wonder the state of the US is such a mess.  They might be world leaders in several areas, but where it's important, where it counts - tolerance, respect, understanding, enlightenment - they're almost in last place.  Sure, they're patriotic.  To white-hetrosexual-homegrown-God-fearing families and "values".

Not all Americans are redneck pricks - I know that.  I happen to have some very good friends who are Americans.  And they are people I am proud to know.  They are tolerant, they are open minded, they have big hearts and huge love for human beings in general.  I just wish that they were the ones that kids listened to, and looked up to.  Those are the type of people needed to run the show - and to prove that we are all the same no matter what.

Bullying is rampant in schools now.  It was pretty bad when I was growing up, but now it's just gotten worse for any kid who's different in any way.  Because of the internet, television, video games, and lack of parental supervision, they know words now that I didn't learn until I was sixteen or older.  And they're using that hate, those words, on their peers, who are barely able to get themselves to school, let alone defend themselves against something they have no control over.

Which leads us to the five suicides.

I find it sad when anyone kills themselves, because they are closing the door for good on all the possibilities life holds.  They are causing friends and family untold grief.  But they do it because society is a hateful creature as a whole. 

The next time you're going to project hate onto someone for their sexuality - or even the colour of their skin - neither of which can be helped, whether it's in the form of name calling, physical violence or even blogging - sit and wonder how you would want to be treated if the situations were reversed.  What if, suddenly, you were to be what you "hate"?

What would you do?