Friday, January 31, 2014

Flash Fiction Friday, January 31, 2014 ~ A Day at the Beach

Flash Fiction Friday. One picture for all the participants and 100 words ~ no more, no less. Please show us some encouragement by reading these short missives, making a blog comment and jumping over to read all the other wonderful reprobate's offerings.
A Day at the Beach

In the long hours of the hot sun, the beach tent gave little shelter. She watched each bead of descending sweat from his brow to his waistband where it pooled in his rippled abs. His tossed chestnut hair topped a lithe, long frame of glistening, tempting, well-defined muscle and sinew.

The heat beckoned his aftershave to mingle with the salty-coastal air and embrace her. Assailing her resistance, the strong masculine aroma left her weak with desire and hungry to surrender.

She lowered herself on his growing lap. Her seduction complete, he rose, and she drown in those steely-lavender eyes for his kiss.


or 

Monday, January 27, 2014

Tantalyzing Tuesday Teaser, January 28, 2014 ~ Compound Interest

In search of Tantalyzing Tuesday Teaser inspiration, I reflected upon the conditions, and results, of turning to the wrong people for help when one is young, inexperienced and new to the world. There are predators who lay in wait for the right opportunity to become the wrong person you turn to when in need. This is a short 200 word story based on the photo below about a past that comes back to collect on debts owed.

Please leave me a short comment, if you feel moved to do so, then indulge yourself in the musings from other creative authors who have selected a photo and written a 200 word teaser to titillate, tempt, terrorize or thrill you in one way or another. Some of us are dyed in the wool erotic writers so be forewarned........you may be headed into seedy, saucy, sexy waters. Enjoy each and every one at the link below or listed below like a wanted poster, but...Enjoy!!

Compound Interest
The Senator-Elect’s wife walked into the room with an air of confidence and gardenia. Standing in silk, satin and Versace, she started to remove her kid gloves, a look of distain casting a dark shadow over her beautiful Mediterranean features.

“Bobby”, a deep breath of ill-placed privilege followed.

“Peaches….” he smiled with assurance.
“I am addressed as Mrs. Lancaster, now, Bobby. What do you want?”

“I want the return-on-my-investment.  And I am here to collect it.”

“You can’t possibly be serious. ”

“You must think I am…you’re here,” he replied, crossing his legs.

“It’s been….How did you find......?” a small crack in her voice revealed the broke, pregnant college freshman she once was.

“……twenty-one years. Does it really matter?"

Bobby rose, closed the distance between them in but a few long strides, and sighed. He placed his long black fingers at her throbbing, alabaster temple and gently pushed the soft-auburn curls from her face then traced the elegant curve of her cheek down her face, along her jawline to the hard-pounding, heated pulse in the small of her throat, where he placed his thumb.  She flushed with panic.

"You owe me $350.00 and twenty-one years compound interest. So….it’s you or a Senator.”

 

 

Friday, January 24, 2014

Flash Fiction Friday, January 24, 2014 ~ Best Buy Schmy!

Flash Fiction Friday means another photograph, common to us all, and another 100 word story ~ no more no less. I don't know about the other authors, but I had trouble with this pic until it came (pardon the pun!!) to me. What do we all HATE the most when writing.......?

Before I tell you, I implore you to read my answer to that frustrating question, leave me a comment, then head over to all the other offerings by my cagey cohorts. You can follow the link above or flit one by beautiful playful one listed below.....Enjoy, it's only 100 words after all!!!
Best Buy Schmy!!
Devon began his slow, long descent into the very essence of ZsiZsu  collecting inspiration with every moan, every breath not taken, every fistful of sheets and stretch of her body upwards for more. Her thighs trembled, her glistening swollen petals an invitation; her hooded pearl stretched to be kissed. She smelled like fresh baked bread and champagne with a hint of gardenia blossoms wafting over him. His hungry fingers slipped…

Shit!!!!

I hate this new computer! I am in the middle of a very important sex scene and it just ate my last 200 words!!!

How will I recapture Devon devouring me………ah, ZsiZsu?

Participating Authors


Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Thursday Taster, January 22, 2014 ~ The Para-Portage of Emily

Who among us doesn't enjoy a hot bath after a long and tiring day?  Emily certainly does.....and did, indeed. You'll remember Emily, from "The Para-Portage of Emily"?  Now, this is Thursday Taster so before you leave, please read my excerpt then hop on over to all the other author's to have a 'taste' of what inspires them to write just for you.

You'll remember this is a continuation of my WIP and the truth is that she had just discovered the shadows created by light and dark.  Furthermore, Emily discovered she liked it there, too, and became a prisoner of the shadow’s seduction.

Emily paid no attention to the time as she enjoyed the healing affect of the bath.  Her full breasts floated in the warm water, soothed.  She enjoyed the aromatic elevation of her spirit and she relaxed completely.  Her back felt massaged; the muscles in her legs unraveled slowly and peacefully.  The water stroked her lovingly and surrounded her body in a sensual caress.  She slipped further into the water to get closer to the sensation.  Her now supine legs were utterly relaxed; she eased her knees.  She imagined a lover touching her all over as she dozed, indulging in her every fantasy embrace.  Her spirit seemed to rise above her watching her respond to each loving stroke.  She thought she could almost see hands beneath the water as the surface rippled from movement.
The Para-Portage of Emily

The truth is that Emily had discovered the shadows created by light and dark. Furthermore, she discovered she liked it there, too. She had still been in control of her destiny then, but not anymore. In fact, she became a prisoner of the shadow’s seduction…



***
The hours passed and Emily slept to the crackling sounds of the fire. And then, she dreamed…

***
A young woman ran from a man pursuing her. He collected the young woman in his arms in the foyer of this house and they entered the library, in one another’s arms. He took her to the couch, where Emily slept, and placed her down gently. As the man indulged himself in the sweet specter of her breasts, his right hand dropped between the young woman’s legs and gently, inch by slow inch, raised her full hem and petticoats until he found the naked treasure he sought.

***

The room was nearly dark, save the floor lamp above Emily's waking head. The fire embers glowed a vibrant red, hot orange-gold and burning blue-white-yellow against the black shadowed backdrop of the firewall. She composed herself and straightened her clothes. She allowed a lone hand to search between her legs for evidence of this consuming dream. She had actually cum in her sleep, while immersed in the vivid vision. She languished, rolled and stretched into the memory, holding onto the pleasant remains of the dream, smiling intimately to......…to herself and her shadow lover.
It had felt so real to her; who was he?
“...and when will he return?”
 
***



After she awoke from her nap, Emily climbed the wide, oak curved staircase carrying the bottle of wine and juggling the suitcases with Barkley leading the way.  The handrail was smooth; she barely felt it, save the cool-to-the- touch feel of the wood.  She found herself thinking, as she ascended the stairs, about all the textures in the house; the stone, wood, tapestries and artwork were sensual to her.  The colors of the walls were deep and male; the furniture was rich and sumptuous.  She was overwhelmed, sated and tired from her long, frustrating day of travel.  All she could think of was a hot bath and a warm bed for herself and a cozy spot for Barkley.  The house was actually three stories, which she had not noticed.  She hadn’t the strength to explore the third floor; she really just wanted a bed and a bath.  

She poked around the second floor, examining the bedrooms.  She decided of the six bedrooms, she would take the master bedroom since it had a private bath and much larger quarters.  It might be easier to keep this area warm when she was done downstairs at the end of each day.  Barkley seemed to approve; he jumped on the bed and frolicked in the satin and velvet bed linens.  He made her laugh as he played and burned off some pent up energy.   

She placed the suitcase on the bench at the end of the bed footboard and went to the bath ensuite to drop her personal case and the wine.  She lit a few candles after she started her bath.  Returning to the bedchamber, she unpacked.  Her uncle’s belongings were still in place and, quite suddenly, she felt like an interloper, invading his privacy.  She resisted the urge to run, called upon her steely reserves and moved his things to lower drawers and pushed his hanging clothes to the right.  While she unpacked, her bath was drawing and Barkley had exhausted his energy, softly snoring in a curl on the bed.  

The bedroom glowed with the soft light; it was comforting and she felt embraced, safe, protected.  She exhaled softly. Her clothes felt a part of her flesh; she had worn them for so long.  She peeled them off in the bathroom, which was stone, travertine and marble with gold appointments.  It was lushly male but appealingly anointed with a feminine touch.  The tub was a deep, soaking tub, big enough for three people.  She pondered whether or not her uncle had ever enjoyed two other women in the tub at one time while she slipped her big toe in to test the temperature.   

She could almost hear her pores sigh in unison to the soothing relief as she submerged herself in the warm enveloping water.  The candles she lit glowed gently and softly on the tub’s surround.  She smelled a fragrant potpourri, which struck her as odd.  Kirby did not seem like the type of man that would think of her sensual pleasures when trying to stock the house for her visit.  It was one more thing that seemed curious to her; one more thing that did not fit but felt wonderful.  She would think about that tomorrow, took a sip of wine and she closed her eyes… 
***

 
She drifted in a trance, it seemed.  She paid no attention to the time as she enjoyed the healing affect of the bath.  She had allowed her arms to slip into the water beside her lithe, aching body.  Her full breasts floated in the warm water, soothed.  She enjoyed the aromatic elevation of her spirit and she relaxed completely.  Her back felt massaged, released of the driving tension as the muscles in her legs unraveled slowly and peacefully.  She felt like a languid feline, calming from a purposeful day.  The water stroked her form lovingly and surrounded her body in a sensual caress.  It felt so real, she slipped further into the water to get closer to the sensation.  Her now supine legs were utterly relaxed; she opened her knees.  She imagined a lover touching her all over as she dozed, indulging her every fantasy embrace.  

Her spirit seemed to rise above her watching her respond to each loving stroke.  She thought she could almost see hands beneath the water as the surface rippled from movement.  The dream was pleasant; she was calmed as she encouraged the reverie.  Beads of perspiration formed on her brow and upper lip.  She gave herself over to the total sense of sensual release. She imagined her hands gently rubbing herself between her legs, gliding up her taunt stomach to her breasts, full and round, slippery from the oils in her bathwater.  She was lost in a dream, suspended on clouds of corporeal relief. She felt her response coming in mounting waves. She felt hot and open to the water’s touch. She pressed her knees wide apart; her velvet folds were completely exposed and open to the caressing water.  As she released herself into her orgasm, she moved and raised her buttocks, pushing her womanhood into the hand between her legs.  She shuttered and quivered as the red-white explosions came alternately, over-whelming her.

As she relaxed and calmed herself, she found her hands were gripping the sides of the tub nowhere near the soft excited mound where her legs met. She looked at her hands, perplexed; she dropped them to her sides, then turned her head and closed her eyes again. She swam in the warm sensations of her orgasm for a while longer, coasting on an ethereal haze. Finished, she stepped from the tub and wrapped herself in the comfort of a plush terry cloth towel. She poured herself some more wine as she watched the water drain from the immense tub.  In the flickering candlelight and shadows of the bathroom, she thought she saw an image in the swirling, warm water but tossed off the thought as nonsensical. 

The light and dark created the sensual, breathing shadows.
...And she knew she was not alone.


Monday, January 20, 2014

Tantalyzing Tuesday Teaser, January 21, 2013 ~ Obsession Confession

Ah, Tantalyzing Tuesday, one of my favorite days of the week. This Tuesday, I have tumbled into volcanic erotica.  My piece today is about obsession and I hope that raising the question, "Who is obsessed?" will evoke a thoughtful process of self-examination. Many times I have been obsessed, others I have been the object of fascination and obsession then others....I have been both. You.......? You'll discover one way or the other when you watch the vid I selected below. I think you'll enjoy it...or something about it, anyway.

Now, you know my plea, my true obsession is you and, if you so desire, your comments. Please be a dear and visit my prurient partners to read their short 200 word teasers based upon a photo, or video, that they selected. Please leave comments in our respective blogs. Thank you, my sweet friends ~ Enjoy !!
Obsession Confession
The backroom pole dancers in platform heels at seedy bars epitomized the “strippery” aspects of “The Pole” ranking slightly above lap dancing. The women touted their strength, physical fitness and supremacy.  And what began as a college thesis on the Empowerment of Women soon became an obsession.

His visits started out innocently enough: notes, photographs and interviews of the girls which earned him the moniker of “The Professor”.  Soon, he fell under the spell of the taunt flat stomachs, round firm breasts and strong inner thighs that undulated against gravity with grace and poise, a pole between their legs. The Professor was enchanted as he slowly slipped into the dark-side of his fascination.

The rhythmic seduction of the music as he watched her dance ignited a desire that burned inside him like fire. She extended an open, beckoning hand with an elegance the Professor was weak to resist and he followed her wet, glistening body off stage.

His eyes implored her; his whimper beseeched her and he ached to cup her small muscle-toned buttocks in his palms, spread her cheeks with his thumbs and press into her essence. His knees weakened and buckled as she turned, invitingly, against the wall.

She smiled to herself knowing he would pay. They all pay.

Participating Authors



Friday, January 17, 2014

Flash Fiction Friday, January 17, 2014 ~ Surrender Love

Flash Fiction Friday's subject photograph is a bit cryptic, open to wide interpretations by a bevy of talented authors. The challenge is to express that creativity in a mere 100 words or less. You will be amazed at the variety of short stories photo fodder like this ignites within us.  

Please be kind and show your reaction by leaving a comment on the author blogs, but first...please read mine. I've titled it ~ "Surrender Love". Enjoy.....


Surrender Love
The room graduated in soft light to undulating waves of darkness: light from the fish-tank, flickers from the candles and moving shadows cast by the bleeding lava lamp. The space was a soft whisper of mingled sounds: the small fish-tank aerator, Dave Matthews playing, the rhythmic drip of the sink in the adjoining bathroom.

I heard only my heart as the rustle of my clothes floated into soft puddles on the floor beside his.

Naked, standing together locked in an embrace of magnetized heat; he cupped my face tenderly and started at my eyelids until he exploded inside me.

Inception: magical, mystical love surrendered………


Participating Authors



Thursday, January 16, 2014

Thursday Taster, January 16, 2014 ~ The Para-Portage of Emily

Each Thursday, a group of very talented author's gather to share their Works-in-Progress. It is a chance to read short excerpts from the Thursday Tasters WIP's, help keep them disciplined and their progress on track. So please read the excerpts then show some love and encouragement by leaving a comment. It means so much to each of us. Enjoy...

The Para-Portage of Emily

The truth is that Emily had discovered the shadows created by light and dark.  Furthermore, she discovered she liked it there, too.  She had still been in control of her destiny then, but not anymore.  In fact, she became a prisoner of the shadow’s seduction…

***

The hours passed and Emily slept to the crackling sounds of the fire.  And then, she dreamed…

***

A young woman ran from a man pursuing her. He collected the young woman in his arms in the foyer of this house and they entered the library, in one another’s arms.  He took her to the couch, where Emily slept, and placed her down gently.  As the man indulged himself in the sweet specter of her breasts, his right hand dropped between the young woman’s legs and gently, inch by slow inch, raised her full hem and petticoats until he found the naked treasure he sought. 

***

The room was nearly dark, save the floor lamp above Emily's waking head.  The fire embers glowed a vibrant red, hot orange-gold and burning blue-white-yellow against the black shadowed backdrop of the firewall.  She composed herself and straightened her clothes.  She allowed a lone hand to search between her legs for evidence of this consuming dream.  She had actually cum in her sleep, while immersed in the vivid vision.  She languished, rolled and stretched into the memory, holding onto the pleasant remains of the dream, smiling intimately to......…to herself and her shadow lover.  

It had felt so real to her; who was he?
“...and when will he return?”



Monday, January 13, 2014

Tantalyzing Tuesday Teaser, January 14, 2014 ~ Winter Mourning Spring

Tantalyzing Tuesday Teaser brings with it exciting authors who have selected photographs that have moved them in some way to write a 200 word short story, no more no less. You will be able to access all the authors pieces via the link above and I have listed their names one by individual one like snowflakes below. Please read each of their wonderful teasers and comment. Today, mine is about unrequited love to the passionate and soulful music of Charles Aznavour ~ "She". Who can better describe painful love lost?

But, before you leave me, I ask only ask that you read my teaser and if you enjoy it, please leave me a comment. Your comments encourage me to work harder to please you. 
~ Blessings and enjoy. 

Winter Mourning Spring
He knew that before full winter broke she would leave, asking nothing.

His broken heart knew and loved her deeply in spite of her desires. She could not be bound; her heart longed for he knew not what. Although she never loved him, he had hoped that with time, she would allow her defenses to soften as she had kindly opposed his overtures. Always, he tried to be a worthy man; he was wealthy, learned, big of heart and generous with his staff. Still, she remained stalwart against his charms.

He dreamed of her nightly in the privacy of his quarters and could live a lifetime on but one kiss by which to remember her before she departed. To have her touch would mean her fingerprints were indelibly etched upon his body; a feather would forever remind him that, once just once, he had her eager breath upon his shoulder, her velvet lips impatient for his. The scent of lilacs that surrounded her daily, once upon a time heated by her passion for him, would sear her yearning lastingly in his heart.

He could live without her then.

Instead, he watched quietly as she left with the early morning hours of spring.


Participating Authors



Friday, January 10, 2014

Flash Fiction Friday, January 10, 2014 ~ Workout Agony

Flash Fiction Friday and a hunka, hunka is the subject in a photograph about which all the prurient participating authors must write a 100 word short.  I definitely got carried away on this one and had to reel myself back in before I missed deadline!!!

Now, it is all about having a wee bit of sexy, harmless fun only it is different with each author you visit to read their take on this same picture. You can visit them via the link above or I have them listed, one by gorgeous one, like links in a playful bedroom chain below. Once you have read my wee short, please leave me a comment on the blog if you feel inclined, then hop on over and begin your adventure with all the others..........Enjoy :) xo


Workout Agony
Today, when he didn’t see her, he was disconcerted.

He was changing the link chain for the gym punchbag when he saw her arrive. His breath froze in his chest; his heart repeated a fluttered rhythm and his feet were weighted in place.

Her long auburn curls were tied in a scarlet ponytail with wisps of errant red curls framing her porcelain face. Her cheeks, flushed from the bitter cold, magnified her emerald eyes. A sprinkling of iridescent sweat glistened between her breasts. She moved gracefully toward him with a radiant smile.

“Need help with that?”

Then her eyes dropped to his heavier agony.

“I...I..ahhhhh…………..”


Participating Authors




Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Tantalyzing Tuesday Teaser, January 7, 2014 – Life of She

Tantalyzing Tuesday arrives on the heels of 2013 with a commitment to be more wicked, more sensuous and more addicting. My sexy New Year's Resolutions are to tempt and tease, wet your appetites with insatiable desire and then leave you wanting more....of me and my prurient partners.

So, on that note, why not start the year with a view into the psyche of the mysterious female creature. Most have no idea that we are unpredictable, fiercely protective and passionate beyond description. My missive is 200 words, no more no less, based upon the photograph below.  

Once you have peeked into my passionate parlor, do have a sashay over to the other participating authors on the link above or I have them easily found listed below.  Enjoy and if you do, please leave me a comment.....Ciao, bebe.


Life of She
Inside soft tender curves, a supple eager body and gentle touch is an instinctual creature capable of eviscerating a threat to her family or a menace to her children. Her heart is wild with a longing to run free but a natural instinct to love, mate for life and nest. She is an erotic being in a constant struggle of contradictions appealing to all with her loving seduction.

Her character is born from a wild spirit which is beautiful, protective, nurturing, irresistible, loyal. She is the hunted and the hunter, captured and yet untamed.  She has an innate sense of intuition fully capable of visions unseen, anticipating determination, weakness or desire. 

She has spiritual powers with the heart of a Shewolf: pure, zealous and singularly sumptuous. Her scent commands desire, her breath ignites passion and her confident movements are sensually fluid.

She will reach out with an enigmatic attraction sealed in a mysterious magnetic abandon. She is irresistible as the Moon is to the Sun, Life is to Death and Obsession is to Love.  To have her is to ride a current of comfortable happiness and loving shelter yet freefall into unpredictable, uncontrollable passion.

Is she Woman or Wolvess……..or perhaps both?


Participating Authors






Friday, January 3, 2014

Flash Fiction Friday, January 3, 2014 ~ The Melancholy Moon

Ah, the first Will Blog for Sex Flash Fiction Friday. This is especially fun because we have a wonderful subject photograph about which we each must write a 100 word story. I love this photo and I have often considered using it, but it had to be the right time, the right words, the emotion. 

New Year's Day was the first of five Super (or Perigee) Moons in 2014. It is special and magical because the combination of this happening on the first day of the first month of the new year has not happened in nineteen years. It is rare. 

So is love, true love. But lovers are often separated by life and obligations, military service....or death. I have written such a painful lament for your entertainment in honor of the Super Moon last night. A melancholy moon.....

Several other wildly talented scribes have written 100 word stories based upon the same photo. Have a visit with each through the link above or I have them below, penned individually like scattered jewels at your feet. Before you leave me, would you please leave me a comment, if you are so moved or inclined. Bon Nuit, mes amores.

The Melancholy Moon
Melancholy ebbs over her with the rise and fall of the moon. The platinum orb slices slowly across the horizon to bid the fiery radiance goodnight. Like the moon, she is always in the shadows; she feels lonely, impossibly forlorn.

She knows the moon so loves the sun because it dies each night that the sun may live another day. She feels painfully the same as she watches yet a new day without you die in the black satin folds of the moon’s sorrow.

The stars unveil their jewel-like splendor to tempt the Sun’s return, to no avail.

When will you return?


Participating Authors




Happy New Year
May 2014 bring you all the blessings you require and all the abundance you desire.
Much love and prosperity,
Muffy



Once Upon A Time In America | Ennio Morricone