Friday, September 27, 2013

Flash Fiction Friday, September 27, 2013 ~ The Sketch

I love Fridays. Friday, the threshold to the weekend......and also to Flash Fiction Friday. Today, as always, a group of stellar wordsmiths congregate to entertain you with variety of short shorts based on the same inspiration photo below featuring 100 words, no more no fewer. You may think this is easy, however, it is not! It takes me more than that to welcome you and thank you for the visit!!

Anyway.....please read and comment on all of the participating contributions. You will find the authors listed at the link above or one by one below, like artist sketches leaning against the gallery wall. But, first, before you dart off eagerly to feast upon the others, please read my answer to this week's challenging photo and leave me a comment, if you are so inclined. I have called my piece, 
The Sketch... 

The Sketch
Startled, she dropped his sketch.

Enraged, his face grew red, his neck swelled against his starched white collar and his pulse throbbed in purple bulges against his temples.  Ashamed, she wrapped her slender alabaster arms across her small breasts, folded to the floor in a puddle of silken flesh, then glanced up.  She had no real fear he would harm her; she had witnessed his anger before.  But, this was the reaction he sought, he required, from her.

“Do NOT move!  I need your fear to feed my passion!” 

“As I need your passion to breathe, sir,” she exhaled, her soul ignited....


So, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it. Me thinks that my lady above will be kindly rewarded for her cooperation and submission. Now, do be a dear and spread your love to the other participating authors who have chosen to join in the fun today. You know we are a diverse group and each delectable story will be a morsel to savor.....and please leave a comment. We ALL thrive on attention:) xo

S.J. Maylee:

Monday, September 23, 2013

Tantalyzing Tuesday Teaser, September 24, 2013 ~ Night of Hearts

Again, Tuesday delivers up some tasty treats. As you may not know, every Tuesday a fabulous group of wildly talented writers each selects a photo of their choice, then writes a Tantalizing Tuesday Teaser of not more than 200 words to describe their photographic inspiration. The other writers have also flashed for you about the photos they selected. Please visit them and comment. You can find all the authors at the link above or listed below. But,

I selected this wonderful photo named "The Alley", photographer unknown. It reminded me of the years I lived in France and the wet, cobbled stone streets of Paris, at night and alive with desire and passion. I hope you enjoy my short flash and if you do, please leave me a comment.

Night of Hearts

She emerged from the corners of obscurity nightly after the darkness replaced the sun with desire. Emilie stood in the same shadowed doorway smoking until she met the man of her dreams. The faceless man would be the first of many disappointments. Tino watched the smile leave her face a little more with each man as her heart filled with regret. He wanted to scream that love awaited her here, behind the curtained window at the end of the cobbled alley.  

Tino's lonely life was spent seated at his kitchen table, day after day, behind the glass. In the morning hours, he listened to the skipping children’s laughter, watched the gossips and the deliberate men walking to their offices while the old sat on their stoops telling stories. In every face, form and silhouette, he searched the bustling morning crowd for her. He listened over the hawking street vendors for Emilie's laughter, the sound of her high heels and the rustle of her skirts responding to the graceful movement of her slender body beneath.

She did not come, not then, not until her night of hearts was over. 

“Hello”,  Emilie murmured when she returned quietly from the night’s final sad embrace.


Okay, so there you have mine.  Please leave me a comment if you feel so inclined.  Below are all the authors who have participated in this week's challenge.  You can visit them one at a time from my page here, or head off to the link above , but do visit them and read their pieces. The diversity is so delicious:

Molly Synthia:

Friday, September 20, 2013

Flash Fiction Friday, September 20, 2013 ~ Dance

Today is Flash Fiction Friday in our group of notable notables.  We write 100 words, no more no less, from the inspiration of a single selected photo, common to us all. I love, love, love this photograph. This one reminded me of Father.

I would appreciate it, and consider it a personal favor, if you would read and comment on each of our interpretations of this photograph.  We are all so delectably deliciously different.  You never know what morsel you might find.  You can jump to each post through this link, Flasher Fiction Friday, or I have them listed like notes on the score from a love song listed below. 

Before you depart, please leave me a comment. Your encouragement means so much to me, but do be honest. Twinkle, twinkle little sorrowful note.
She leaned forward, listening, as the familiar music assaulted her in agonizing waves.  The notes rippled in uncontrollable cascading groups, like oceans of ice cold champagne, over her flesh igniting each nerve long dormant in her heart.

Father was her dance teacher, coach and the first man she ever fell in love with.  He was gone……simply gone. This was his favorite rhapsody. Could … would … the bliss eclipse the mourning?

Her body responded, as the music seduced her sorrows.  She began to stand. The intoxicating melody unfolded the petals of her body as she heard, in a whisper:


So, please follow the writers links listed below and read their interpretations of this wonderful photo. I can assure you that from past experience, we have all written completely something different.  And...isn't that entertainment?

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Tantalyzing Tuesday Teasers, September 17, 2013 ~ The Piano Bar

Today is Tuesday, Tantalizing Tuesday Teasers to be exact. The photo below is one of my own choice and I am chartered by the rules of the group to write a 200 word piece, no more no fewer, describing my feelings about this photo.  So I prepared a little wee something slightly autobiographical, and a lot salacious.

Please be sure to leave me a comment and then have a saunter over to my copious co-conspirators for today and read what they have prepared for you.  They can be found at the link above or listed one by one below like lovers. I give you The Piano Bar............enjoy!

The Piano Bar
We had met hours earlier in the piano bar over martinis. After every song, came a request, then another. When I felt myself nearly spent, came 'My Funny Valentine'....I turned to her, she gave me a slow smile and whispered that she'd heard me sing before.

Without a word, at last call, she took my hand and hailed a cab. The late night carried us wearily to the penthouse apartment she called home. She pointed to the bar and asked me to fix nightcaps while she got comfortable. Obligingly, I nodded and watched her glide into the darkness down the hall.

Engrossed in my task, her silent return surprised. I felt her presence behind me as her heated fragrance released my passions. Lifting my eyes from the bar, I watched our shaded glossy reflections in the windows framing the city lights scattered like brilliant jewels on the valley below.

Her alabaster hands slipped up my blouse to outstretched nipples. She pressed her naked breasts into my back as an involuntary moan escaped my trembling lips. 

I turned, rolling into her embrace; my tongue sought out her pleasures. My red tipped fingers clasped her flaxen hair, weaving us together as one, until the ebb.


Please leave me a comment then indulge yourself in the wondrous talents of my friend's listed below like lover's kisses:

Sunday, September 15, 2013

In the Flames of the Fire of Truth is on #SexySnippets ~ September 15, 2013

Well, hello everyone and welcome to my maiden voyage with Sexy Snippets hosted by my friends across the pond. Seven sexy sentences are the limit and are taken from a work in progress or published book, article or story brought to you every Sunday. I submit for your pleasure seven sexy sentences from a story I wrote for Saturday AfterDark Moments I blogged just yesterday based on the photo below. To read the full story follow the link title:  

We cannot deny the strength of our desires,

For we are the ones who seek the pleasure of the truth.
And when our bodies burn for one another

We cannot turn away,
But fly instead into the center of the heat.

For if we are burned, it will be because we sought
All that was real and strong and good.

Because we knew the power of attraction and how we felt
As our flesh grew and yearned as one.

So do not fear that which we know is special.
And do not turn or run from lust or love so pure and true.

That would deny the essence of our beings
And keep us from the fire of truth we build.

There you have it: Seven Sexy Sentences on Sunday.  Now follow the #sexysnippets link to all the other participating authors and read their entertainment morsels, but not before you leave me a comment, please.

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Saturday AfterDark Moment, September 14, 2013 ~ In the Flames of the Fire of Truth

In this group of writers, these 100 to 500 words pieces are based on a photo of our own selection.  I have gotten a little carried away and gone into the 930 word range, including the introduction. Oooops, my bad!! But, where to cut? This is my first so, stay with me. You may enjoy the end result. This piece is a little more graphic than my usual flowing literotica......I dunno, you may be pleasantly, sensually.......surprised.......

to read all the other authors playthings

We cannot deny the strength of our desires,

For we are the ones who seek the pleasure of the truth
And when our bodies burn for one another

We cannot turn away,
But fly into the center of the heat

For if we are burned, it will be because we sought
All that was real and strong and good

Because we knew the power of attraction and how we felt
As our flesh grew and yearned as one

So do not fear that which we know is special
And do not turn or run from lust or love so pure and true

That would deny the essence of our beings
And keep us from the fire of truth we build
 In the Flames of the Fire of Truth
Pushed up against the wall of the bedroom, you take me with nothing but raw need.
Yes, a powerful fire from within that makes me flatten my spine against the wall,  
And I raise my hips to meet you while you impale me with your engorged cock.

Hard yet again...the fire burning deeply from within, melting our flesh into one impatient cauldron of burning passion
You have my legs parted and my hips against the wall. You bend your knees just slightly and ram the full length of your cock up inside me and I am so fucking wet, baby, it slides in to the hilt.

You are balls deep into my deliciously hungry pussy and you hold it there; oh yes, right there; yes, there, for a few precious, magic and stunning moments on the precipice,
The brink, before you begin the thrusting, the pushing, the long and rhythmic in and out and in and out.

The magic of the fire of truth builds

I am burning with a fever so hot it is scorching your cock as you push as far up into me as you can and then pull back
The slick fat purple head of your cock just brushes my outer velvet folds…..before you slam up inside me again and again.

And OH MY FUCKING GOD AGAIN!!! ………. Please, again, again, again…

You…you are so deep inside my core, it feels as if the total of your hugely swollen balls are up inside of me, too.
They are slickly wet; covered with our juices that seem to stream out of me in a river of molten passion.
Over and over, you literally dive into me. Your face has become a distant mask of passion; here, yet not here.

I am in another dimension, riding your stiff plunging cock like a Valkyrie riding in the clouds astride a winged steed.
Your iron grip on my hips is commanding, lifting me up then dropping me down upon your steely shaft
Your jaw is slack, your breathing loud, loud as a cannon roar, panting, moaning, coming up from your lungs so that it's a deep guttural roar. 
And my husky voice whispers your name into the room filled with our scent...............
David, David…more, deeper, harder. I want you inside me forever 
And you, you want to be there, forever too, to stay, to live there; to burn from inside
with your cock absolutely buried up inside my center; at my core, at my heart….burning within our essence.


And then, Baby, there is no turning back, nor would we wish to.  Nor could we stop
We both begin to cum; to fire, to launch, to leave the earth and leave our feet, our bodies a rocket screaming for release.

Your cock deep, deep into me is wracked, lurching, spasming as you cum in tidal waves of scorching orgasm. 
You shoot two three four long streams of your hot eager sperm up and up and up into me.
I feel your fluid heat ignite the heart of my womanhood and I am pinned to the wall, unable to do anything but ride out this cataclysmic rush of fire and ice; love and lust.  And the fire of truth is…. oh God, I shudder, begin to tremble and feel the waves begin. I am going to cum forever and ever in your arms.

We are awash in our juices and they are pooled, yes pooled at our feet as they run down our legs. 
Oh MY GOD, Oh yes, oh yes, oh no, don’t ever.… ever... ever.. stop.

We stop. We breathe, still against the wall. 
You pull from me and look into my just-opening eyes.  We do not need to speak.  You tenderly move my wet, tangled curls from my flushed face and ease your cock from my now clenching pussy.
You kneel before me in the alter of our pooled juices and begin to lick slowly, up the insides of my thighs, taking our love into your mouth, continuing your journey up to my still parted and inflamed ruby red lips. 

You look up at me, smile and begin to lick and suck what remains of our juices out of my ravaged pussy. 
You drink deeply of us and let it slide around your eager, hungry lips. 
You rise to your feet and kiss me deeply, so deeply, our juices, our cum passing from your mouth to mine and back again. 
Both our faces feast upon our love, as our lips savour every nuance.  Our tongues lock and entwine in a slippery, fervent dance.
You push up against me, kissing me through eternity and we are here.  We are there……….

Forever in the flames of the fire of truth

Please be sure and visit the rest of my sexy sensualist authors and read their posts. But, before you do, please leave me a comment before you go. It's like being kissed. Anyway, they may have gotten a wee more carried away than I and you won't be able to walk for a week......hahahahaha.........said no one ever:) xo

Friday, September 13, 2013

Flash Fiction Friday, September 13, 2013 – American Beauty

Well......I had my trouble with this photograph.  As you know, it is Flash Fiction Friday: 100 words or less about a photo that is not of our individual choosing.  Now, he's a handsome guy, I'll give you that, and he looks like a good kid.......he just didn't speak to me until I felt his boredom.  

What do we all do when we are bored?  I don't know about you, but I entertain myself with something sexy.  So that is just what he did.  

Now, what I implore you to do is to read my little sexnip and leave a comment.  Then saunter over to all my friends who are also writing for your pleasure today based on this very same photo.  See what they came up with.  They can be found at the link above or listed like pageant beauties below, one by one.  But, first........leave me a comment. It's a little like a hug. ((())) 

Here you have it.....................American Beauty.

American Beauty
The pageant contestants snaked from off stage through to the catwalk. They were all breathtakingly beautiful: smiling at me, every one of them, eager……….and I bored. 

My thoughts drifted to you…..drifted into us…

When did I release my heart to you?  Was it the moment you turned your head to greet me and your whirling, rain scented golden locks brushed my cheek?  Was it the warm welcome of both your hands as you grasp mine to embrace your smiling  welcome?  Perhaps the subtle pulse of your heartbeat in the small of your neck made me your prisoner. 

What does it matter now………?


Wednesday, September 11, 2013

From Wednesday with Love, September 11, 2013 ~ My Lady Faire

My friend, Culann the Lecher, read my Tuesday Teaser yesterday, So Be It...,  and said anyone can write a fantasy.  In fact, let me quote him, "You conjured good words and images. However I'm an exception to what was evoked. This is NOT to say it was bad, it's not, just that I sit outside the range of those words. It's easy to conjure sensual images that evoke fantasy partners. For me it's something a tad different. Not to conjure images of a Nymph and sigh, rather to look at the dowdy middle age person and see the Nymph shining through. That each flaw of the skin is a mark of uniqueness to be noted and appreciated. That your "Dream Girl" can have grey hair and still be your Dream. Want to take up that challenge in 200 words?   

My friend is probably right.  It is easier to write about a fantasy, a "Dream Girl", as he put it. How is it to write about weathered love that has been shared for decades, though all the perils, pains and pitfalls life dishes up?  I responded quite confidently that I could do that, too, and so confident was I that I could, I told him to select the photo.  He did:  the beautiful photograph below.  Meet my friend, Culann and his wife, the lovely Lady Faire fresh from their living history group a month and a half ago.  You be the judge: How did I do?  Appropriately, I selected the music from 
"Somewhere in Time" by Maksim 
as a backdrop for these lovers.  I give you this short, 200 word piece, dedicated to my friend and his wife My Lady Faire....
My Lady Faire

He leaned back, closed his weary eyes and loosened his belt, relaxed.  The framed photo, newly her favorite, rested against her heart.   She slept, spent.  He inhaled her familiar ‘sweet strawberry’ essence with the shared rhythm of their breathing.  It was a lifetime and yet only moments…

The same errant curl, now with a little less spring, a little less luster and grey with time, fell to her forehead tickling her brow as it always has.  He reached to tuck the insistent ringlet from her face when their weathered hands touched, in the same well-loved spot.

I didn’t mean to wake you, he whispered into the air surrounding her.

You didn’t, she cooed, that ever damned curl did, love.  If you hadn’t such an affinity for my curls, I would have cut them decades ago.

I will never forget the first time I saw those wild auburn curls. I remember thinking your hair sparkled in the moonlight and danced for play with the sun.  But for that, would you change anything?

She turned to him, held his twisted, polished hand to her heart and sighed.

Don’t you know yet, darling? Though time has ravaged our bodies, my heart sees only lovers.

"Come back to me," she whispered into the wind.....

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Tantalyzing Tuesday Teaser, September 10, 2013 ~ So Be It....

Ah, Tuesday ... one of my favorite days of the week.  A teaser of it's own, today is Tantalyzing Tuesday Teasers weekly blossoming.  As you know, we, each one of us, selects an inspiring photograph that tickles our muse within to awaken with a representative piece, a wee flash, of 200 words ~ no more, no less.

I have been collecting photos of mermaids and I wonder at their lore.  The sea has a natural, mesmerizing draw upon all of us.  The love of the sea, along with moon, the sun and the stars draped in the shrouded darkness of the night... lovers in an eagerness to touch, to be, to submerge, conjoined in shared heat, their lives forever. The music I have selected to accompany this piece is almost the whisper, the plea, between them.......

Now, only one request: before you leave me to bathe in the prurient pools of my writer partners imaginations, (they are listed at the link above or individually like autumn leaves below) please leave me a comment.  I thrive on any kind of attention, not the least of which is just knowing you stopped by to fondle my pages.  So finally, for your reading pleasure today, I offer the very epitome of nautical charm, of seduction, I have called So Be It...

So Be It...

You don't know me; you couldn't possibly understand.

I know that my life began the moment I saw you. 
I know the night painted your hair with an onyx shimmer that beckons my fingertips to weave my essence, my heart, through the rich black ribbons.
I know the sun swathed your skin in alabaster silk glistening with an eagerness to be touched. 
I know the stars have taken up residence in your eyes and the moon has kissed your smile. 
I know that at the naked nearness of your heat, the earth trembles with anticipation and your scent…the aroma of fresh peaches in rich cream…floats across the golden threads of evening air breathing life into my soul.

You can't understand, she whispered into the waiting night.

I needn't understand because I care.
I care that you are adored, honored, revered.
And I care because I love...

We can never be together, never! she murmured into the fragrant darkness.

If you will but take my hand…trust me…we can do anything, be anything, love anywhere.

To love me is to write your destiny. 

Lift me into your arms on but the promise of a kiss, breathe into me, then so be it…

Now, dive over to my cohorts pages and submerge yourself in their fantastical imaginations.  Don't forget to leave a comment for their efforts.  Hope you left one for me......eeeeeeeee!!

Naomi Shaw:
Ray Sostre:
Doris O'Connor:
J S Morbius:
Leann Mitchell:
Pablo Michaels:
Jake Malden:
Paloma Beck:
Ella Grey:

Friday, September 6, 2013

Flash Fiction Friday, September 6, 2013 ~ Happy Forever

Today is Flash Fiction Friday. The inspiration photo has been selected for all of us to use to write a 100 word, no more no less, flash story for your entertainment.  Now, usually, I run to the soft and sultry; I enjoy the sexy seduction of my visitors, but today this photo really didn't strike me quite like that.

How many times have you talked to yourself in the mirror, impassioned or angry, about something: fine tuning or practising a speech, an argument?  How many times have we addressed an empty chair, for one reason or another?  I know I have, as a drama student in college, an angry wife or a waiting mother.

So today I have written a piece about just one of those circumstances. It is up to you why she is kneeling before the chair; you write the end...

Is it in front of a coffin
Is it to keep her company in a sanitarium
Is it in a boarding school
Is it even empty
Happy Again
She knelt for hours before his brocade captain’s chair. He read her poems, painted stories and wove lavish fantasies for her with his silken voice. He said she was his pretty, this was his favorite gown. She smiled, fingering the lace strap.  

She rocked to the melody of his rich words; they comforted, caressed her as she wondered.  He had wondered, too, and had asked her the same. He felt deeply for her, wanting her happiness above all else, but this…………?  Was this too much to ask? 

She hummed quietly with the soft song of his resonant echo ……to his brocade chair.
Happy forever.

Now run round and have a quick read of my classic cohorts creations.  Some of them are bound to be wild and sexy. You will find them listed on our Flash Fiction Friday page or listed like warm droplets, one by one below. But first, pretty, pretty please? Leave me a comment before you go.

J S Morbius:

Deborah's Theme ~ Once Upon A Time In America | Ennio Morricone