New Reviews to Come

It's not that I haven't been reading, I've actually been spending my time on "Behold a Pale Horse" until recently. But within the next few days I should have two and a half new reviews ready. I'm not going to give anything away, I'm just going to say that both reviews will be awesome, and one of the new ones if from an author that I've reviewed once before.

Figured I'd post something. There may also be a rant and some erotica on the way, depending on the way that I feel.

Fantasy versus Fiction: Shown Side by side

I've finally found two good examples of the difference between a written fantasy, and fiction. For the sake of this particular entry, I'm going to put only a few paragraphs of each in this entry. After this, I'm going to share a full fantasy scene, or a full fiction scene.

First, the fantasy:

            “Do you enjoy my lips?” Izzy asked teasingly, biting Catherine’s neck, kissing down over her collarbone. Izzy’s hands cupped her slave girl’s large breasts, squeezing them, enjoying their feeling. Soft moans increased in volume as Izzy’s skilled tongue and teeth brought her nipples to full attention. The blond gasped as she watched Izzy’s tongue stud harden its mate.

            Izzy bit her lower lip as she slid her hands down over each of Catherine’s hips, her head slowly making its way between the smooth thighs. She alternated kissing each one as they spread, her nose catching the full bouquet of her slave girl’s excitement.

            “Are you always this easy to please?” Izzy asked nonchalantly, her index and ring finger spreading Catherine’s outer lips as her middle finger teased her clitoral hood.

            She gasped, grinning. “Only when someone knows the deepest truths of my body.”

            “Ah, so it only happens with someone like me.”

            “Oh yes, Mistress.”

            Moving her fingers down slightly, Izzy began stimulating her clit directly. Catherine moaned loudly, pleasure overwhelming from her sensitive pearl. As her juices began to flow more freely, Izzy’s fingers made their way slowly into the other young woman’s tight pussy. She could no longer go without tasting the juices, and began flicking her tongue over her clit, her sparkling brown eyes locked on the pleasure of Catherine’s face.

            “Mmm… Mistress… your tongue…” The words were barely intelligible between the sounds of pleasure, which aroused both of them further.

            The fingers within her passage curved upwards as Izzy switched from licking to sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves. The tell-tale orgasmic muscle spasms passed through Catherine’s body as she came, the juices now dripping from her entrance and her Mistress’ fingers. Izzy truly experiences the full essence of her sweet climax as she rubbed the clit in small circles, and moved her tongue deep into her entrance, the tip of it teasing her G-spot.

            Moans run out as orgasms rolled through Catherine’s body, her hands digging into her Mistress’ hair, pulling it rhythmically. Lips glistening, Izzy slowly came up, aroused by Catherine’s need to kiss and share her flavor. Although she had removed her moth, her fingers continued their stimulation of her clit, rubbing it roughly. Their bodies pressed against each other as Catherine’s hands slid between her Mistress’ thighs, and two fingers made their way into the soaked passage.

            Izzy moaned loudly, the feeling of her G-spot being stroked further wetting her things. Their speeds synced as they pushed their bodies together, each wanting to bring the other more pleasure. Catherine’s emboldened hands reached to grab and smack her Mistress’ large ass, the soft curves so different from the hard fucking they enjoyed. Their mouths worked together, kissing each other deeply, their tongues dancing. Izzy couldn’t find words to describe the pleasure that she was feeling, and opted to allow her incredible orgasm to speak for her. As her movements became more erratic, Izzy nuzzled Catherine’s neck, her muscles straining. The intense pleasure Izzy was getting caused Catherine to climax again, their bodies intertwined pleasure.

In this case, I actually gave the character's names; they're stock names, but names nonetheless. This story is not part of a longer anything. Granted, there's some before and some after, but it stands alone. Could I make it part of a longer something? Sure. I have enough of these shorty shorts to do just that.

Now, on to the fiction. This is an excerpt from Defying Destiny, a full length short story:

             I held his lower lip between my teeth as I stroked his growing member. He moaned loudly when I squeezed his shaft. Daniel’s hands made their way into my yoga pants, stroking my clit between his index and middle finger. I moaned loudly, the feeling of hand almost as intense as pleasure on the other realm. Pulling his pants off, I saw that he was fully hard. Turning over onto all four, I looked back at him, biting my lip, smirking.

            He grinned as he pulled my pants down, smacking my bare ass gently. His hands were entirely different from Damien’s hands; Daniel explored me with a curiosity and wonder of someone that had never touched me before, and took it as an adventure.

            “Beautiful.” He murmured, stroking my clit as he slowly slid himself in. It felt amazing and painful at the same time. My hymen was very tough.

            “You’re a virgin!” He moaned loudly, his voice full of surprise.

            “Not for much longer. Please fuck me, Daniel.” The words were soft, softer than I had ever spoken to a person, and the plea in their cadence was genuine. I clasped his bottom lip between my teeth. With a deep thrust, he pushed his way though the membrane, a loud yelp coming from me.

            I chose doggy for it’s carnality and yet, he was loving to me. He moved slowly inside me, his hands sliding up my ribcage to squeeze my small breasts. Moving with him, I moaned his name, my hands gripping the headboard.

            “Lucia,” he gasped into my ear, “I need you, Lucia.”

            Once again, his fingers deftly went to my clit, causing an orgasm to shake through me. It was the first time someone other than Damien had caused me to cum. I knew that Lucifer knew of the act, and a huge tremor was felt throughout the block. The miniature earthquake did nothing to distract Daniel from his pleasure. As my orgasm doubled, I felt him release his seed inside me.

            Pressing his body into mine, I screamed, a burning sensation coursing through shoulder. Falling onto my back, I saw a piece of my flesh bubbling on a gold cross around his neck. A token of his faith that was so small, I hadn’t noticed it. Unfortunately he did, and was snapped to reality of what we had done.

            “What are you?” He asked me, smelling my sulfuric flesh.

            I couldn’t answer before he looked at my bare pubic bone, and saw my triple-6 birthmark.

This scene is definitely part of something longer. The narrator has a secret, there's a bit more going on in her thoughts, and near the end, it doesn't just stop once the orgasms are over, it goes back to the plot of the story. It is only a link, with plot before and after, and more interesting twists and turns. Having this scene on here is supposed to make the reader want to know what's going to happen. This scene does not stand alone, and I would probably get plenty of complaints if this is where it all ended.

I hope that this clears up some of the questions about my writing, and sexy writing. I'm thinking of putting a full super short scene on here, maybe in the next entry or so.

Minski the Cannibal: Good Story, Bad Copy Choice

Sometimes when I have a few digital rubles, I make spur-of-the-moment purchases. Buying Minski the Cannibal definitely falls into that category.

I'll start by saying I'm a fan of de Sade's work. I read 120 Days of Sodom two years ago, and it was hilarious. Granted, there are some things you have to get used to when reading things written by him.

I should start by giving a basic warning:

• de Sade enjoys writing torture and murder. There is no care for humanity, or individuals, especially not family members.
• There is usually some form of pedophilia, the victims (many times females) are for the most part young beautiful girls, and he often rapes children.
• There are very few fully-fledged female characters. He seems to have a love/hate relationship with the fairer sex, and he has a hate/hate relationship with the vulva. I could write essays about how hard he is, but I shan't for the sake of brevity.
• He loves the buttsex. Male, female, it doesn't matter, it has to be up the poop shoot. He does seem to like boobs, though.
• He can be a super blasphemer. Like... he's beyond an atheist, and says things that I would never in my brain, let alone create.

If you can't stand those five things in literature, don't read his stuff. There is also plenty of corprophilia, and sometimes cannibalism and incest. I honestly don't feel like it makes me want to throw up, but I can guarantee your draw will drop. I kept gasping and giggling as I read it, so much so that I was a distraction in class.

Now, if you'd still like to give it a shot (which I hope you do), I'll get on to what de Sade is more than anything: a philosopher. Just like his longer work, Minski the Cannibal is chocked full of his ideologies, ideas and philosophies. He declares himself a libertine, and gives in to it in the most extreme of ways. I have to admit, there are quite a few places in the philosophy where I found myself agreeing, although I generally found him batshit. If everyone was like him, there would be no next generation of humans.

This book is actually a sceney from Juliette, a work considered his masterpiece. In this particular part, the titular character, and some of her homies encounter this Russian giant that enjoys seeing them being super pervs. His name is Minkski and he lives in a desolate castle where he keeps harems of people at hand to sate his depraved ways. His favorite ethnicity of people is Africans (which I'm not sure I like...), and he lives by his natures. Whatever sick fucked up crime he can commit, he does. He's wanted all over Europe, and the only reason he hasn't added more to his sizable resume, is because he hasn't had a chance. He's a standard libertine de Sade character. Once inviting the young people to partake, they live in his castle and do naughty things. I shan't give away exactly what happens, but that's the gist of it.

It's not that long, and but it packs a nice little bit for people who just want to start in on de Sade.

Now, on to the cons.

As far as the literature, it's good. It gives a good impression of his style. The fault lies with Kindle, and the douchewaffle that put this to print. I shelled out $2.99 for this, thinking it was that much reading material (at least 100 KBs of writing). It's not. Just when I hit the middle of the "book", the scene is over, and it starts in on some authors fucking essay about de Sade. I was so heated. All those pages... I thought I was going to have more of him for my buck. I could have bought Justine for one third of the price. I felt so duped. If I wanted to read some essays on de Sade, I would have went on Google Scholars and downloaded some. I didn't want to pay for someone else's writing on him, I wanted him. I was so super livid, that I went to search for the full version of the book Juliette to see if I could buy it...  that shit was nearly ten buck for a digital copy! As much as I like reading him, I had to say fuck outta here.

If you want to read de Sade, and see what all the hooplah is about, I suggest going to your local library and picking up a hard copy. Yeah, schlep your ass outside and get up off the wireless. You can see what kind of copy it is, and turn pages. If there's one thing de Sade does, it's turn pages. Don't waste your money on that digital copy. Only buy it if you read it and love it.

The Difference Between Fiction and Fantasy

Sometimes, when you share with people your writing, especially writing of the scintillating variety, their first question/comment is: "This is what turns you on?"

When I hear this question, it makes me feel all sorts of ways. The first thing it does is confuse me. It almost makes me feel as if I should have some sort of control over what comes out of my pen. I have as much control over what I'm drawn to write, as I have control over the thickness of my glasses. Especially when it comes to graphic writing. I'm seriously contemplating writing a post about the difference between erotica and sexual writing, because many people consider them to one and the same.

The second thing I feel in annoyance. I always specifically say that my writing is fiction. With some stories/ideas, like Big Brother, I'm technically not driven to arousal by the graphic parts. In that, I'm using the sex scenes as specific tools to get across an idea. I know many people will find the scenes/story stroke worthy, but it's not my cup of tea. It's not something I would participate in. Hell, I root for the sake of justice in those stories.

Now, I'm not saying that I find none of my writing sexy, because that would be a lie, but I am saying that I don't often write my fantasies into stories. For people that have read a lot of my work (all four of them), they can tell the difference between fantasy and true fiction. When I'm fantasizing about stuff, I usually have nameless characters (a Master and a slave), blurry descriptions with only the most basic physical traits given (dark hair and eyes, full breasts, long manhood). It's not about the characters, it's not about their stories, it's not about their love, concerns and fears. It's about seeing them fuck. It's the literary equivalent of making your dolls have doll sex. Many of these never leave my computer/journals, because they're not actual stories, they're PWP-- Porn Without Plot. To be honest, it's very difficult for me to write a story around a fantasy, because I don't think of the characters outside of their sexual terms. I don't care if the Master is a lawyer who is under a lot of stress, or if his Fortune 500 company is being indited on a scheme. I don't care if the slave was the neighbor-girl he held captive until she broke, or if she's a runaway that followed him home and won over his heart with her charm and grace. It doesn't matter. I think I'm going to post a short PWP scene, and then post a graphic scene that comes from a story.

Yes, I will scour my writing, and find something from both categories and post it... I'll probably do it some time in the upcoming week.

Kindle Direct Publishing and Graphic Porn

This has left me pissed off.

And rather depressed...

So, I had something of an epiphany when I was writing and working on a short scene. Suddenly, I realized that I wanted to put a lot of little sceneys of mine together in a collection I call "Taboo". It was supposed to contain stories from all the parts of human sexuality that aren't discussed in polite society.

And by this, I barely mean BDSM. I meant incest, underage, rape and zoophilia. I happen to have at least one story that falls into each of the categories (although the underage was written when I was underage). I thought it would be a clever, although controversial collection. Although I didn't expect any one individual to find each story arousing (I only find a fraction sexy), but I thought there was a little something for everyone.

So, whilst on my computer, I go to Amazon.com and I download the Kindle Publishing handbook... I'm so happy I found now, before I put in the extra time writing other little shorts for this collection.

I'm reading through it, looking at the policies that are in place, how to go about it. Amongst the final pages, I find the list of prohibited content. The first fucking thing is "graphic or hardcore pornography". Immediately, I thought a blood vessel in my head popped.

All of my erotic writing is graphic and hardcore. In my mind, that's what makes good erotica, the ability to see, touch, taste and smell what's going on. I want the reader to feel that everything they're reading is happening right in front of them.

Thinking that there might be some other things not allowed by KDP, I went to their forum (I already have an account), and I found that not only are graphic depictions prohibited, so are rape, scat, underage, and anything else that one might find in 120 Days of Sodom.

Most of my stories and outlines for stories contain themes like that. Hell, it's usually a major conflict. What can I say, my first favorite author was VC Andrews.

Even my stories, the longer pieces that I'm working on, cannot be published under KDP. I really feel some sort of way, my head and heart are aching right now. I don't know what's keeping the tears at bay.

Now I'm just wondering what it is I'm going to have to do... I think I will wait, finish a major story, and then see about finding an agent. That will probably be the only way to get out my work, since it's too graphic and "wrong" for me to publish independently.

I have to find a way to get my mind back on track with my work...

Venus In Furs

I had read de Sade's 120 Days of Sodom, and I loved it. It gave me a true sense of why the word sadism had its roots in his name.

I'd heard of Venus in Furs, and I knew that Sader-Masoch's name gave way to the word masochism. I came into the book with preconceived notions of what it was supposed to be, what it was supposed to do. I've just now left the book with higher hopes and spirits than I thought I would.

 If you've come to this book looking for hardcore pornography, you should just go to Kink.com's Divine Bitches.

I have to start off: the book, novella actually, moves at what I thought was a slow pace. Being the crass individual that I am, I thought Severin was a whiny bitch, and Wanda and flip-floppity fluffer Dominant. There is lots of crying from the former, and lots of wishy-washy love/hate from the latter.

There are many references to historical people at times, and even though I'm reading it for my own edification, I have to say I'd like to read it again and take notes. One of the biggest misconceptions about the book, is masochism. I'm not sure how to better phrase it... what modern day people see as a masochist, might only be seen as a facet of true masochism based on this book. Most of the masochism isn't physical, but emotional, which I found fascinating.

Depending on who you are, there could be some downsides to this book. If you're picking up a paperback version, I'd suggest being familiar with archaic words, or have the internet close by for quick googles of different things. I still haven't seen an effective image for the styles of furs that he finds so fascinating. Also, the way I've seen some of these movie posters and all that such... it looks a lot different from what was written.

I don't think that Wanda was a cougar, if I'm not mistaken, she was twenty-four at the start of the story, and even back then, that wasn't super old. And well, I don't want to give anything else away, so I'll try to steer clear of any further information.

There's just one curious thing I've noticed since just finishing the story... it hasn't technically loosened the bonds of my fingers. That's very curious indeed. I'll just continue to read some more fantastic literature and see where I'm led to next time.

Deviant- A Story That's Part Poem

My first strike was probably the flirting.

            The second strike was giving him my number; saying that I wanted to “buy some of the art pieces”.

            The third strike occurred when I picked up the call from him.

            “Hello?” I didn’t recognize the number, but them again, it could have been one of my friends of someone else’s cell.

            “May I speak to Cat?”

            “Who may I say is calling?” I screened my calls, sometimes pretending to be my personal assistant. The male voice was familiar, but not one I readily recognized.

            “Maxwell Carter.”

            “Well, Maxwell, this is Catelynn.:

            “Pretending to be someone else?”

            “Not really, I didn’t know it was you.” I actually stopped writing, his voice making me smirk.

            “Now you know, and you like it, don’t you?”

            “Like what?”

            “Talking to me.”

            “Well, I could be writing right now, so you must have something important to say.”

            “I do. I’m in the City. I want to see you.”

            “What about Gabrielle?”

            “She doesn’t mind you seeing me. And we both know that you’re more my kind in private areas.”

            I chuckled and crossed my legs, loving his style and how he didn’t beat around the bush. “True. Where do you live?”

            “Sixtieth and Fifth.”

            “I’ll be there in an hour.”

            “Great. See you there. The towers penthouse. My doorman will know you’re coming.”

            “Nice. See you there.”

            When I finally got off the phone I turned and saw my roommate/best friend Jyll standing there.

            “Who was that?” She asked, grabbing some granola bars from the kitchen.

            “Gabriella’s boyfriend.”

            “The art dude. Cool.”

            “I’m going to his apartment right now.”

            “Giggity goo.”

            “Word. I’m probably going to bang him.”

            “Eh, yo no sabo. I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I’ll say you don’t want to mess things up with her.”

            “True. I just want to bang him, no relationships.”

            “Good for you. Have fun.” She smirked as I got up to take a shower. I knew what I wanted to do, and I didn’t care that he was in a relationship. If she was handling all her business, he wouldn’t have called me. That made me smile a little as I got dressed. I put on a nice pair of heels (fuck me pumps), a cute bra and panty set and an oversized shirt dress.

            It was enough clothes to look nice, not too much to take off/find. My hair hung down on my shoulders in messy layers. The cab ride from the Village up there was relatively fast, and I arrived fashionably late. His building was gorgeous, a classic design, with a few modern twists. I knocked on the door to find him standing there, smirking.

            “Hello, Catelynn.” Stepping out of the way, I went inside. I have to say the thing I was most curious about was his personal style. Some kind of guys loligagged, others tried to act as if we weren’t going to do it… very annoying stuff.

            “’Sup, Max. You have a nice place.”

            “Thank you. Care for a drink?”

            “I don’t drink.”

            “Weed?” He pulled out a ziplock bag three quarters full of some sticky icky shit.

            “What kind is it?”

            “Sour Diesel, super potent.”

            “Hell yeah. Got a pipe?”

            “No.”

            “Bong?” I was more hopeful.

            “I don’t really own any of those things. At least, not in NYC.”

            “Good thing I have Mergency Nipple.” I looked in my messenger bag and pulled out a small pink and yellow pope.

            “What?”

            “My pipe. Let’s get comfy.” I grinned, sitting on his couch, taking my shoes off and curling at one end.

            Maybe my openness shocked him, but he sat near me. I finally looked at what he was wearing, a t shirt and jeans, neat and nice. I liked that he sat close to me, like a friend.

            He turned to Music Choice, and I packed a bowl, taking a large hit, passing it to him so he could inhale as well. Even though he seemed to not so often, he only coughed a little, which is more than I could say.

            “So, you write and paint?” He asked, turning the music up.

            “Yeah.”

            “Did you like my gallery?”

            “It was fucking disturbing, and I could see some BDSM themes… pretty fucking awesome.”

            “Did you like me?” He put his arms around my waist and pulled me on to his lap. I laughed, kissing his lips playfully.

            “What do you think?” Our smirks grew as I slid off, and headed with him to the bedroom.

***

            My body pulsed with the high building inside my system. His hand was almost cool to the touch as I first saw his bedroom. It was gorgeous. Drapes hung like a cloth covered wall, the entire thing a window. The lighting came from special fixtures on the walls that gave everything a soft, pale glow.

            A king-sized mattress sat on the back wall; red linen was a little cheesy, but I couldn’t help finding it cute.

            “Niceness.” I chuckled, taking another deep hit before putting the pipe on his nightstand.

            “You’re incorrigible.” He slid the dress off my shoulders, letting it fall down around my ankles.

            “Thanks.” Gently, I kissed him, his lips soft, working with mine easily. I undid his pants, the button and zipper making a delicious sound. Once the T shirt was thrown to the side, I could see just how long his torso and body were, almost like Jack Skellington.

            Maxwell slid his hands around the perfect curves of my hips, kissing my stomach, small tickles making me laugh. That was, until he pulled them down, touching my clit gently with his tongue. Gasping, I quivered, my leg resting on his shoulder.”

            “Got dayum…” The words dribbled from my mouth, unexpected. Silently, I wondered if Gabriella had him do this to her. At the rate his tongue was going, I guess he was famished for pussy.

            Balancing as I clutched the footboard of the bed, his tongue made its way in and out of my pussy, the tip gently flicking my G spot. He really enjoyed the taste of my wetness, barely letting it actually come out before it was on his tongue.

            Randomly, his tongue sped up, touching it just enough to make me go crazy, building me up to an awesome oral climax. No words formed as I shuddered, every muscle in my body contracting fast. It was the best orgasm that I’d gotten from pussy eating.

            As he came back up, I held myself steady, looking at him, and his boner. Pushing him to the bed, I was fully prepared to do the same for him. As I headed down, his hands ran through my hair, gripping it tightly.

            “I don’t want you to.” His words came out a constricted mouth.

            “Well, maybe you need to tell your cock that.” I stroked it, feeling the odd tissue that made up the shaft.

            “He doesn’t listen too well.” Pulling me back up, I saw him reach onto the desk drawer for a condom. He didn’t have any issues with the next part, sliding it on his cock, and me over it.

            It wasn’t insanely long, around eight normal cock inches, but it was thick, and curved up towards his bellybutton. As I felt it slide into me, I held my breath unconsciously.

            Even though I usually would make a smart/sexy comment, for the first time in a very long time, nothing came to mind. Grinding into him slowly, I took my bra off, and let my hips move in whatever serpentine manner they desired. A low moan came from my lips, his hands on my hips, guiding me. When our lips locked, everything felt right. Maybe it was because his hands swept over my sides, or how he hit my G spot without fail.

            It didn’t last for too long, both of us enjoying it too much. I orgasmed first, biting my lip, trying to keep from grinding on him too hard. When my hips paused, his continued to pump, him cumming as well. It was strong, but I didn’t really feel it because of the rubber.

            Pushing off him, I smiled, and tried to catch my breath.

            “Wow…” I finally said, smiling, my skin still tingling.

            “You’re good. Really good.”

            “So are you… that was fun.” I sat up, about to look for my dress (underwear weren’t that important).

            “Where are you going?” Sitting up, I saw him light a cigarette.

            “I thought… after, I would leave.”

            “You don’t have to. Really, sit, smoke some more, unless you really have somewhere to go.

            Laughed, I leaned back, got Mergency nipple, turned to him, and threw my leg over his. “Better?”

            “Mmm… much better.” Laughing, his hand rubbed my thigh gently.

            “What are you doing here with me?” I asked, the talkative part of my high kicking in.

            He kissed me on the lips. “I’m having all the fun I can’t have with my girlfriend.”

***

            Catching a cab finally wasn’t hard; they seemed to be lined up outside.

            “Weehawken, please.” I said to the cabbie, sitting alone in the back, four fifty dollar bills in my pocket for the cab. The driver took off without a question or conversation, which was a good thing considering how exhausted and high I was. As far as looking different after fucking, my hair was a bit flatter, and all my makeup, save some lip gloss, was sweated off. It was hard for me to leave (I literally had to pull myself from his arms) but I had things to do the next day.

            By the time I got back home it was around 2 am, and my roommate was nowhere near sleep. Stumbling in, she sat on the living room couch, watching Animal Planet.

            “Dude,” she muttered, frosted shredded wheat sitting dry in a bowl, “these hippopotami are sick.”

            “I fucking love Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.” My smile, already Joker sized, grew larger, a giggle escaping.

            “So… how was it?”

            I screamed, jumping up and down. “He is amazing! Absolutely fantastic in the sack, a pot smoker, and he loaded.”

            “Um, isn’t that last one a little gold-diggerish?”

            “Hell no! I have my mown money, but when he wants to get me something, do you know how awesome the bong would be?!”

            She laughed. “Can someone say ‘fiend’?”

            I pulled out the half smoked sandwich bag, grinning. “Can someone say ‘you’re not getting a single puff’?”

            “…Fiend isn’t a bad thing.” I threw it at her, and she loaded a bowl as I went to take a shower.

            When I came out, she was schmaked, and I was ready to smoke some more. She was on Pandora, jamming to Panic at the Disco. The apartment bong sat in front of her, the smell of weed stuck in the air like the scent of friend foods.

            “Is there anything left?” I laughed, sitting down, lighting the rainbow glass piece.

            “Hell no, I smoked it all.” She tried to hide the bag, grinning.

            “Good, isn’t it?”

            “That shit is awesome, I ‘m fucked up son.”

            "As fucked as I feel."

***

            The art was gorgeous.

            Stunning.

            Provocative.

            Erotic.

            Lifelike.

            Everything art should be.

            Flat-ironed hair and a short black dress

            I was a Cat on the prowl

            Maxwell hadn’t seen me yet

            Or so I thought

            A hiding spot, the perfect niche to watch and not be noticed

            “You made it.”

            The voice behind me was smooth, charming.

            Max at his best

            “Gabby thought I’d enjoy myself.”

            “Have you?”

            “A bit.”

            “I can make it better.” He leaned against my backend.

            “Your girlfriend’s out there.” The dress rose up my thighs.

            “You look stunning tonight.” Kissed my earlobe, quickening breath.

            “I suppose you’re the same.” The people at the opening went on with their business

            “I suppose so.” I heard the gentle unzipping of his pants.

            “Are we going to do it here?” I breathed in faster, turning sideways, glimpsing him.

            “Right here; right now.” He slid my panties down as I looked at his art instillation.

            Backed my ass up as he put on a rubber and slid in.

            He moved slowly.

            I spread my legs and moaned quietly.

            Someone almost looked our way.

            His breath was on my neck

            Sexy.

            Fingers touched the boarder between two worlds.

            Too much noise and we would be discovered.

            Carter rubbed my clit in slow circles. Even with weak knees I was still up.

            Gentle thrusting.

            I came faster than him.

            Turned on by our public display of afucktion.

            He came when Gabrielle came close to the window looking with friends.

            Blissfully unaware of us fucking

            It was amazing.

Themes in Writing

I've realized stuff in my writing when I study literature and find themes in other literature.

With my stuff, it's usually themes of sexual deviancy, different cultures and ethnic backgrounds, and the healing power of marijuana.

It seems like everything I write, be it with creatures from the past, humans of the present or faeries of the future, those themes are apparent.

I don't know write the things that I do. Maybe it has something to do with the books that I read as a child that I could possibly blame for my choice of topics. I can't do something that would be considered truly young adult literature (Twilight) because it doesn't come to my mind.

If Twilight was my story, it would have had brutal sex in the beginning, Bella cutting the top of her breasts as she allowed the Cullen clan to suckle. There would have been at least one case of a Cullen orgy, and all those people with lovers would have had fantastic scenes of love. The girl that had Edward kill her lover, would have had him head popped off and burnt while he was laying in their bed basking in the afterglow with a ancient bong.

See, that's a perfect example of me as a writer.

I'm watching a fabulous movie called After Fall, Winter. It was absolutely beautiful. It's such a beautiful movie. So very beautiful. Totally made me cry just now, and I'm not a sap

Do Not Mention 50 Shades of Anything To Me

Let me start by saying: I have, and will NOT read that book series.

If there's anything that I know a lot about, it's fan fiction. I've written fan fiction (mostly Harry Potter) since I was 13 years old. Sometimes, I still read fan fiction, enjoying alternate universes that readers can see the characters in. Hell, I also write it still, on occasion.

There are works of fan fiction that are great, such as the Cassandra Clare's Draco Trilogy, which I'm downloading as I speak. It is a masterpiece, this is not.

That is the immediate reason why I am not impressed by this series.

At first, it piqued my interest: BDSM in a series? Well sign me up for a copy! The first strike from the story, was that it was Twilight fan fiction. I read the first book, it was alright, but the culture that spawned from it irritated me to the point where I would refuse to read them.

The more I learned about the book, the more it irritated me. For one, it's not even a well written fan fiction. I've read excerpts on Evil Slutopia, and I can't help wanting to bash my head into the keyboard. The way that the character thinks, the way that the character responds, not to mention the Christian Gray... There are only two Mr. Gray's that I'd have anything to do with: Mr.E. Edward Gray from the movie Secretary, and Mr. Dorian Gray from his novel.

Not only do the characters annoy me, but the way the relationship unfolds annoys me. The story is an entirely inaccurate portrayal of Dominance and submission, and how it should occur. From what I understand about Christian Gray, he's no different that the hundreds (and I'm being quite literal) of Seme's that I've read in yaoi. Hell, I take Iason Mink over Christian Gray every time. Every time.

Unfortunately, every day, I'm forced to hear something about this moronic book, to see the author on day time television, to hear discussions about it. This book is not the Story of O, but people seem to put it in the same category (although I don't consider O to be erotica, but that's a different blog). This book just goes to show me that the state of literature in the world.

I do not want to sound like an asshole/hater, but I know I write better than that. My friends and I write better stories than that. Hell, we wrote better stories than that in our freshman year of high school. I just dislike that this book is seen as the bees knees, when it's really not.

I've heard from people that the book does have upsides; it's bringing to light BDSM, and having it discussed, is a good thing, especially for those that are shy about such things. I guess that's a good thing. Anything that opens up discussions is a good thing.

But this book is a Twilight fan fiction. That is badly written. That has been mentioned to me so many times that I make sure to let people know my feelings before even bringing it up. And for these reasons, I want nothing to do with it. Some people may think that I'm just talking a big game. I'm not.

I just realized something positive that this book has done: it's forced me to be even more diligent about my writing, so that I can show people what good erotica reads like.

I Love You-- A poem

I love you

I love you deeper

I love you longer

I love you harder

I want you

I want you deeper

I want you longer

I want you harder

I want to please you

I want to please you deeper

I want to please you longer

I want to please you harder

You are the center of my universe

You are the center of my being

You are the meaning of my existence

You are my reason for being

I am yours

I am yours deeper

I am yours longer

I am yours harder

Use me

Use me deeper

Use me longer

Use me harder

With your touch

With your word

With your caress

With your glance

You control me

You control me

You control me

You control me

I am intelligent

I am crafty

I am beautiful

I am orgasms incarnate

I wish to please you

I wish to serve you

I wish to enjoy you

I wish to love you

Pull me

Use me

Slap me

Bite me

I am yours

I love you

I love you

I love you