Tuesday, March 26, 2013


If I move I will hurt him. It will cause him pain, possibly make him bleed. I don't want to do that. He knows I don't want to do that. I know that he knows and he knows that I know that he knows.

I am stuck, I am at an impasse. I can feel the flame of the squeal bursting to get out of me. I would not have to force it, all I would have to do is to open my mouth, allow my throat to relax and it would reverberate around the room. I cannot do that. The children are in the next room. The tension within me lies like an electrified solid lump of concrete in my stomach. Helpless, I can do nothing about it. I know that, he knows that.

It is not an unpleasant sensation, it is really rather nice in a very strange, weird, wet kind of way. It tickles slightly and arouses me at the same time. The squeal is now demanding release but I can't do that. I know, he knows.

My breathing is laboured and intense. Our eyes never break contact, like light sabres in some kind of sci fi Mexican stand-off; the first one to blink loses. This is not sex, this is war, but if I move I will hurt him. With an evil grin he keeps slurping, and licking and nibbling. My upper torso is squirming and flailing wildly on the bed as I shove my fist as far into my mouth as I can to prevent any sound escaping.

God damn it I hate it when he does this. God damn it I love it when he does this. I want him to stop, I need him to continue. Conflicting, battling emotions. The civil war between my senses, by brain and my now slick pussy, rages.

With a loud pop, like someone uncorking a bottle of wine he takes my big toe out of his mouth. I exhale and deflate, smeared across the sheets in relief and disappointment. 

Click the link to see who else is taking part in this week's Wicked Wednesday

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

The Moment

As I lie here with my eyes shut trying to fool myself that there is no need to wake up. My head is empty of thought and in a plane of bliss that seems to stretch on forever. I deny myself that I need to rise and answer emails and that you will have to leave me. Sssshhhh, not now, not yet.

Your leg moves over the inside of mine, the hard masculine leg whose coarse hairs tickle my senses. I feel your chest against my back: your warmth and my warmth combining to make a sleepy, sexy cocktail. For one of the brief, fleeting moments in my life, I see how you perceive my skin; soft, supple as you alternate from skipping your fingers over it to grasping great handfuls of my sensual flesh.

Our breathing co-insides with each other, a gentle rise and fall combining with the soft lilt of our bodies as our ribs expand. There is no rush, it is Sunday morning and the rascally sun is diffusing through the curtains, inferring that we should really make a move.

I feel your warm hard cock on curve of my buttocks. The sticky, tacky fluid smearing itself over me. Your dick seems to want me but neither of us make a move in that direction, it could just be morning wood and we ignore it's insistence and simply enjoy the tactile sensation of two bodies touching.

There are probably a million different things to do but I want to stay here, with you, in the moment. 

Click here to see who else is joining in Wicked Wednesday

Sunday, March 17, 2013

e[lust] edition 44

Photo courtesy of Plumptious Pea

Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #45? Start with the newly updated rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Everyday D/s
Honesty sometimes feels like manipulation
Blood, life, sex

~ Featured Posts (Molly’s Picks) ~

Grief and Sex
Bringing Others into a Dom/Sub Relationship

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Adventures In… Lube-land
PolyAnna's Musings: Radar Love
A productive morning
Livia Has a Crush
Terms of Fatness

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Thoughts: Feminism, Sexism and Submission

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Deep subspace - sexy or scary?
Django Unchained: the suffering black female
What the hell is 'NORMAL' sex anyway?
All About the Collar
Dirty Little Secret

Erotic Fiction

Master's Valentine's ToDo List
The Passion of First Encounters.
Ma'am's Turn (First Meeting Part 3)
Nipple torture and girl love
The Boundary
I'm in the Mood
Lolita Twenty-Thirteen, Part Two
A Quick Preview

Erotic Non Fiction

Lindsey's Orgasm
Blog Jammin'
Postponing the Inevitable
Watching Has its Own Rewards
A Farewell Torment
I want to lick your pussy
Cap D'Agde 2012 Foam Party
Dirty Hot
Eighty-Five Minutes
Saying Goodnight
Hundreds of orgasms
our open marriage- mina's date
1+1+1= My first threesome
Writing Sex Scenes
Beginnings and Endings
Glass Bottle
One Cole the Dane + One WeVibe Salsa = Orgasm


Epiphora's beginner’s guide to sex toy review
Very Inspiring Blogger Award


Erotic Eroticon
Finessing Sex- A Snippet Of Fiction
Eroticon Highlights
Bite Me


In the Back Seat of the Bus
Oiled Seduction

Tuesday, March 12, 2013


Queef. A fanny fart. An odourless escaping of gas from your cunt.

Bubbles of lemonade flavoured laughter gurgled inside Mary's chest. It was rude to laugh at fanny farts, and in her stifled reflection, she pondered if it was more rude to laugh at queefs with a new partner or an old one. With an old one there was a certain level of relaxation, where it was ok to accept what was a normal side effect of vigorous sex. Nostrils flaring, stomach tightening, no longer was there any thought of her clitoris or impending orgasm. She buried her head in his neck in an attempt to hide her amusement at the current state of affairs.

Jamie carried on his activities, oblivious of the impending explosion of hilarity. He carried on shoving; bumping and grinding his hips, lost in his moment but not hers. His thrusting was reminiscent to shelf stacking in budget super markets. 'Pile them high and sell them cheap'. Heaving and thrusting more and more external atmosphere into the soft vacuum of her sex, you could get no more air into it. It was going to detonate.

A small bugling sound emerged at first. This was accompanied by a stifled whimper of a giggle and mortification. Embarrassment spread over her face, all warm and red like a freshly spanked bottom. Jamie, paid no attention to it. Determinedly he carried on making great strides towards his orgasm, he was going to reach it regardless of distractions such a strange noises or a giggling woman.

A rasp. A long and protracted note of the escaping queef. It went on for an aeon. If it were to happen in a public place it would be the type of fart that you would be proud of. It had resonance and depth. It had personality to it. It had gravitas.

Unable to keep her laughter prisoner behind the ivory bars of her teeth Mary set it free. Relishing its' new found freedom, her laugh resounded and bounced around the bedroom. Jamie gave her a look of disgust as his moment was broken, meanwhile Mary slapped her hands over her eyes as her moment was released.

Click to see who else is participating in Wicked Wednesday

Tuesday, March 5, 2013


His hand touched the skin on her chest, it was cool underneath his fingers and still damp from being rinsed. In the harsh neon stripped light it gave her skin an almost blue white alabaster look, somewhere akin to chalk. However, it was soft and it gave him the usual physical reaction; he traced his fingertips in feather like concentric circles around her nipple, delighting at the sensation.

Richard loved this moment. A snap shot in time where there was nothing but him and her; an intimate connection. His helium filled body would float through the moment as he looked down on it from another place. To some this dislocation of the self from the moment or the action would be worrying but to Richard it was what made that instant in time. Everything slowed down and he felt calm and lost in happiness.

Bending down, he placed his mouth near her nipple and breathed. There was no perceptible scent other than soap, that fresh clean skin scent that reminded him of purity and innocence.  He observed a mole above and to the left of her aroela; that would be the target of his kiss. The freckle contrasted with her skin highlighting the cool marbleness of it; it was an invitation.

Lips touched her, leaving a wet footprint of affection and lust. There was no reaction, she was deathly still. Looking up at her face and contemplating whether or not to worry her nipple, he decided against it.

Drawing himself upright and adjusting his hardness, reality snapped back into place with a ping. No internal lightness as his feet remained leaden like, planted to the floor. His heart sank, he did not like this feeling, he liked the moment; naturally, it was why he did it.

Flicking the sheet over, to cover the corpse once more he pushed her back into the refrigerated locker. He was looking forward to doing her autopsy.

*Author's note:
I have just come back from Eroticon 2013 and had an amazing time. I was inspired by the session by @Remittencegirl who encouraged all of us to explore the darker side of our imagination, to set it free. Even before going to this year's Eroticon I was told that my erotica can be 'challenging'. I enjoy this. I enjoy that I have caused you to squirm. I take pleasure and pride in knowing that you found this sick piece of necrophilia sexy; if is is any consolation it completely squicked me out and I wrote it, it still makes me shudder just thinking about it. @Remittencegirl suggested that we have regressed in what society will accept about our sexuality and the exploring of it; from the defiant and ground breaking 120 Days of Sodomy by the Marquis de Sade to the pulp of 50 Shades of Grey by EL James. 300 years separate these scribings. So here I am, looking you in the eye, I am going to fucking reclaim erotica, I am going to take you places that will excite and thrill you, that will test your inner self about what you think is sexy, I will turn you on in ways that you have not imagined previously. The gauntlet has been thrown and I accept the challenge!