Sunday, April 6, 2008

Liaison With My Erotic Muse by P.F. Kozak

This article by P.F. Kozak is a perfect read for any erotic romance writer, whether new or old!
Jolie du Pre

Liaison With My Erotic Muse

Author: P. F. Kozak

Writing erotic romance is certainly a sexual liaison with my muse. Anticipation starts the juices flowing, and then imagination takes over. What is hotter than the expectation of tingles and whispers, caresses and sighs, and finally, skin against skin. The mind, after all, is the most potent erogenous zone. Much like spending a hot night with a lover, foreplay begins while walking up the stairs, or in this case, turning on the computer!

Before computers, writers stared at a blank page in a typewriter. Now, it is a white screen on a monitor waiting to be filled. My muse helps me find the sensual space in my imagination, from which sexy stories appear. Sometimes when I need him, my muse has to be enticed to come out and play. I tease him, pursuing him until he can no longer resist.

My muse is certainly masculine, a commanding presence when he emerges. To coax him out of the private sanctum where he lives, I bait him. He loves music, especially the blues. Oh baby, yes, the blues will lure him out every time. He absolutely cannot resist Etta James.

Once I have his attention, I take a hot bath and soak. That is when we commune. He whispers to me as I drift, telling me what he wants to do. Often, he shows me what he wants, the erotic pictures vivid in my mind. When finally I sit down at the keyboard, the words and images flow from my mind into my fingers.

Holding onto the space of erotic thought can be a challenge. It is a delicate altered state of consciousness, a meditative zone where nothing exists except the story. The characters are on stage, and I have to be a rapt audience. There is no room for laundry waiting in the basket, the grocery list sitting on the table or vacuuming the cat litter tracked onto the rug. Everything, and I do mean everything, has to take a back seat to the presence of the muse. When his virility fills my heart and soul, I have to pay attention.

To sustain my concentration and encourage my muse to continue his flirtatious whispers, I often look at pictures of beautiful men. I trace the curves of their muscles with my eyes, allowing their potency to wash though me. The impressions translate easily into scenes, where I play voyeur to a gorgeous hunk of man making love. Watching him in my mind's eye, my own fire burns brighter. The tactile sense of him, how he smells, the sweat on his skin, the hard line of his body, the softness of his hair—he overwhelms my senses.

Making love on the written page is as intimate and personal as loving on a bed (or any other surface to your liking). The endorphins kick in and identification with the characters is spontaneous. Whatever is happening on the page is also happening in my mind, an alternate reality for the duration of the session. My muse strokes me until I am sated. Then, he allows me to rest until our next liaison. With a tender kiss, he promises the next time will be even better.

Article Source:

About the Author:

P.F. Kozak is the author of the erotic romance novels Passion, and Sins and Secrets. Visit her Web site to learn more,

Labels: , , , , ,

Friday, March 14, 2008

High-Five Friday

1) A review of Brett Kahr's Who's Been Sleeping in Your Head?:
Inspired by the psychological insights of Sigmund Freud, the methodological rigor of Alfred Kinsey and the writings of Nancy Friday on female sexuality, Kahr launched a research project to "answer some basic questions," chief among them, "Do our fantasies represent just a bit of private fun, or do they have more profound implications for how we lead our lives?"
2) DIY Erotica at The Sydney Morning Herald.

3) The finalists for the 20th annual Lambda Literary Awards (for the best in LGBT literature) have been named ~ and yes, that includes erotica!

4) Step This Way Please, an erotic story of vibe-play by janiexx (with a few photos of Fetish Kitten too!)

5) Neighborly Hospitality, by AfroerotiK's Scottie Lowe... Yummy!

Find out how to give your High-Five Fridays here!

The purpose of this meme is to give high-fives to 5 people, posts, blogs and/or websites you've admired during the week. I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 5 high-fives on Friday. Trackbacks, pings, linky widgets, comment links accepted!

Visiting fellow High-Fivers is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your High-Fives in others comments (please note if NWS).

Labels: , , ,

Saturday, February 9, 2008

(Belated) High-Fives

You won't mind that they're late *wink*

#1 Dirty Little Girl has brought the Washington DC series to its climax.

#2 The Provocateur ponders the intersections of love & lust.

#3 Tara Alton has some fun & hot flashers ~ Too Skinny is my favorite.

#4 Secondhand Rose's story, Clif & Lydia Drop Over The Edge, reminds me that BDSM themes can be light hearted and fun too.

#5 Also worth noting is Secondhand Rose's post on the arousal of erotica authors while creating written works.

Find out how to give your High-Five Fridays here!

The purpose of this meme is to give high-fives to 5 people, posts, blogs and/or websites you've admired during the week. I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 5 high-fives on Friday. Trackbacks, pings, linky widgets, comment links accepted!

Visiting fellow High-Fivers is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your High-Fives in others comments (please note if NWS).

Labels: , ,

Friday, January 18, 2008

High-Five Fridays #1

Giving High-Fives to five cool erotic written works which are free to read on the web ~ if you are old enough and in the mood to do so...

#1 Cum For Teacher, by Angela St. Lawrence

#2 The Valet of Vicksburg, by A E Franzen

#3 Your Figurine, by Isabel Blyss

#4 Mondays Suck, by Shon Richards

#5 Low-Down, Stanky, Hurry-Up Love, by Timothy N. Stelly, Sr.

Find out how to give your High-Five Fridays here!

The purpose of this meme is to give high-fives to 5 people, posts, blogs and/or websites you've admired during the week. I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 5 high-fives on Friday. Trackbacks, pings, linky widgets, comment links accepted!

Visiting fellow High-Fivers is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your High-Fives in others comments (please note if NWS).

Labels: , , ,

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Sugasm #94

The best of this week's blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #95? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you're all set.

This Week's Picks
Fisted, first.
"And it was lovely, because the movements made by his fist inside me were so different to a cock."

The Razor, the Tape and the Man
"He's never known this lack of control, this unstoppable surge of orgasm, this wave of ecstasy soldiers crossing his territory."

Sex Work And Religion: Monotone Man
"Religion comes up during calls more than I anticipated when I started doing sex work."

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Masterlock Street Cuffs

Editor’s Choice
Watching my girl's caning

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot's Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Butch/Femme, Spanking and Team Gina, Oh My!
"If you jump into bed on a first date, it's already over" and other Myths
Or, When Fantasy Ruins Your Love Life
Sex in the possibly public square
The Storm Cone
When trust faltered...

Sex News & Reviews
Sex Blogger Cocktail Party In Toronto
Sex Toy Review: njoy Butt Plug
Wet vs. dry rub

BDSM & Fetish
The Blindfold
Dinner Party
Happy HNT - Subspace bondage
I’m Not Ready To Play Nice...
New Store!!! New Videos!!! New Look!!!
Posting tipsy
Social Kink Interviews Steve Diet Goedde
Trashy kisses
Weekend With CD Part I (Figging LFM)

Sex Poetry
Beauty mark

NSFW Pics & Videos
Catalina loves To Take Pictures
Gabriella (Gallery Carre)
Jessica Beil Topless
A Reflective Half-Nekkid Thursday
Sandra Shine Nude
Valentina is a goldpiece
WebMistress Feature Gallery: Sultry Striptease

Sex & Politics
We Support the Human Rights Campaign

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Bubble Bath
Cadillac Confessions Vol. 1
Caught Between A Rock And A Hard On! - Part 1
Every Six Seconds... #2
No reservations, part 2
Our holiday - part one
Sex from the Rooftops
Speaking of Porn Stars….
Sunshine On Naked Skin
That Makes Two
Wanking this weekend?
Warm Wet Velvet
We sleeping wake, and waking sleep

Labels: , , ,

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Number 2 in Sugasm 93

The best of this week's blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #94? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you're all set.

This Week's Picks
Between Baths
"His tongue licks along the edge of my thong and then slips underneath, and then he pulls the material aside so he can get to me."

Fantasy Vs. Reality: What Is Cheating?
"Paid escort work is fantasy; dating me is reality."

How To Set Up an MFM Threesome
"You'd be surprised how many guys will say they can't wait to bed her down, then chicken out or not show up after you've shelled out money for a hotel room."

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Neal Mather Fetish Figurenes

Editor' Choice
Need a hand?

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot's Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Erotic Writing and Experiences
And the answer is
Christening The Bed
Episode One
Sally & Bill

Sex Audio & Podcasts
Almost Perfect
Nobilis Erotica 30-Woman of the Mountain

NSFW Pics & Videos
Bree olsen episode 1
Catalina loves Guest HNT Posts!
Georgi (I Shot Myself)
Half-Nekkid at the BBQ
I Feel Myself
Photo of the Moment: Curvy Girls
Sexy DJane Jesse Capelli
Sexy showgirl upskirt pinup photo
Tits for the Troops #5

Sex Work
Breakdown Of A Quickie
Objectify Me

BDSM & Fetish
Calling All film slaves in the New York/New Jersey area!!!
Friday night
Fucked to bits
Happy HNT - A switching in the old abandoned cabin
Let’s give the boy a hand! - Part Two of Text Message Mayhem
An Ode to Bondage
Playing with Morgan
Social Kink Interviews The Knotty Boys (Shibari, Bondage)
Sweet Possession
Trembling, redux

Sex News & Reviews
Aneros Progasm Prostate Massager Review

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Did you have sex?
Half-Nekkid and Openly Bisexual
Keeping Secrets
Love Sick
Mirror, Mirror
More On Cougars - Older Men, Younger Women, Mistresses and Married Men
Playing with my Barbie
Skanky Panties & The Business of Faux Fish Juices

Labels: , ,

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Sugasm #89

The best of this week's blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #90? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you're all set.

This Week's Picks
"She performs astounding acts and swirls her perfect ass in circles, like the tassles on her tits."

Nylon Whispers
"I run my fingers along every bit of my nylon covered flesh"

No Timeless Beauty To Conform To
"While fashions themselves come and go, so do the standards of beauty rise and fall like the heaving breasts of an excited woman."

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Welcome to the Redesign

Editor's Choice
Catalina loves (sex in) Sevilla

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot's Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Half-Nekkid and Asking for It
I Feel Myself
Lindsay Lohan Naked Pictures On Internet?
Professional dress code
Time For Tits

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Another Ride
Dirty Lace
A gay lesson
Joining the Half-Mile-High Club San Francisco, part 9
Office Masturbation - part 4
Postage Stamp Sex
Private Show pt. 1
Rape Fantasies
She Dancin' with a G

Sex News
Find Your Love Match Among Hegre Art's Models

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
BDSM Part II; etymolgy, history, psychology
Can you can can?
Fuck Your Fucking Ethics
The Glory That Is Myra Breckinridge
I wish I'd known that...
Lip Service
Panties Tell You What I'm Wanting
"Thank You"
Things I Would Like to See in Porn
Tom made me think

Sex & Politics
No Payola

BDSM & Fetish
Featured Fetish - Urophilia (Pee, Piss, Watersports)
Happy HNT - Metal bondage fun and a naughty night with Shasta Gibson
Singing about spanking
Submissive List

Labels: , , ,

Friday, July 20, 2007

Author Kis Lee Dishes On Dirty Stories

Many folks think erotica is just another word for 'dirty stories' and therefore miss out on other erotic possibilities in their relationships... So I asked author Kis Lee to describe what things she believes are essential to an erotic story, what makes it 'erotic' rather than just 'dirty,' and what those things mean as far as possibilities in your sex life.

For a while, the headline for my Myspace profile said: "I write dirty words for a living." It wasn't meant to be cheeky. I just like using the word "dirty." (My current headline simply says "smutty.") I see an overlap between "erotic" and "dirty." I don't see anything wrong with writing dirty stories. In my own writing, I don't think about the distinction between the two.

I like calling myself a "smut writer" because I write both porn and erotica. Sometimes I write a story that is pure stroke fiction: about two people hooking up and getting off. I like to think of these kinds of stories as masturbatory fiction. I want the reader to get turned on. Other times I write a story that is more about the characters than about sex. I want to explain why the particular characters get together. I want to explore why there is (or there isn't) sexual chemistry between the main characters. Those stories are more "erotic" in my mind. I'm really fascinated by the how's and why's of human relationships.

In my writing, I try to create a sense of reality infused with fantasy. Or perhaps it's fantasy infused with reality? In any case I want the reader to think that the story could take place in real life. I often write about moves and techniques that have worked for me. Sometimes I even take snippets of real life conversations. However if the story is too close to real life, it can be boring. That's why a lot of my stories involve my own unfulfilled fantasies. Despite being a smut writer, I haven't tried everything I've wanted to experience. Not even close. I use my writing as an avenue of exploring my hidden and not-so-hidden desires. I figure that if I get turned on, then some readers might feel the same way.

Fantasies play a big role in my sex life. I'm really open with my current partner, and he is open-minded as well. We talk about sex quite often, and we've discussed our fantasies. Even the act of discussing fantasies adds excitement to our sex life. We know that we're not going to fulfill every single fantasy, but it is fun to talk about the possibilities. Every time we share a fantasy, we learn more about the other person. We both look pretty tame, but we both have kinky sides. It keeps life exciting.

My partner recently asked me if he inspires my writing. He definitely does. Sometimes I use our experiences as material for fiction. (He knows this and I have his blessing.) Other times I rely on my imagination as the source. With unfulfilled fantasies, I have to pretend that I've experienced the same thing. For example, I wrote a story called "Bus Ride" and it involves bondage and public sex. I've experienced bondage before, but I've never had sex in public. I've never even had sex in the car before. For that story, the story began with the characters and the words just flowed from there. I hope that my readers wonder whether the story is based on fact. I like to keep people guessing.

Here's an excerpt from "Bus Ride":

"Don't be shy, love. Tell me why you need a collar."

"It's for a party," I said. "My friend is getting married, and we're going out clubbing afterwards."

"I see." He ran his hand over my thigh, his fingertips hovering in the air, never touching the soft fabric. He had large hands with long fingers. Whenever I saw a man with long fingers, I wondered if he knew how to play the piano.

He moved his hand from my thigh to my forearm. He lightly brushed my bare arm with his fingertips. His slight touch went from the inside of my wrist to my elbow and up towards my bicep. He stroked my skin slowly like he was remembering my texture. I watched his gaze slide over my breasts, my stomach, and lower.

I jumped when the bus rolled into motion. I didn't even hear the driver announce our departure. Shifting in my seat, I noticed that all the passengers congregated around the front and middle. A few middle-aged ladies discussed which casino had the best buffet.

"No one can see us," Dave whispered.

Kis Lee is a recovering lawyer turned freelance smut writer. Her story, Bus Ride, will be published in E Is for Exotic, part of the Erotic Alphabet Series by Cleis, due out later this month.

You can (try) to keep up with Kis at her erotica blog, her adult blog for women, and her website.

Labels: , , , , ,

Monday, July 16, 2007

Talking Witches & Vampires With Paranormal Romance Author Ravyn Reccio

Why choose vampires and witches as characters? What about them is so compelling for you personally?

Back in 1979 I went with my best friend to see Dracula with Frank Langella, since then I have always been pulled by the power they hold -- be it in a movie or in a story. I started writing about vampires shortly after that.

The witches came last year when I started role playing. I was amazed about how men perceive witches to be dominating and very sensual so I took the idea and ran with it. That's how my witch came to life in Serpentine Majick. The same thing happened with Micah in Vampyric Dreams; I saw it unfolding in my head and I gave it life.

What makes paranormal romance so popular?

With me it's all about how the stories make me feel. The electricity around the plot and just how far the author is willing to go with the characters. The bumps in the night, the touch that makes your skin crawl or that mysterious kiss on the back of your neck... When you know you are alone.

It's all about the sweet seduction that is played out in our own mind.

As an author of witch and vampire stories, how do you go about creating real intimate & romantic moments ~ ones that humans react to and are moved by?

Vampires by nature are very sensual to begin with. In every vampire movie ever made the raw passion of the film has always left me wondering how they did it so it could be enjoyed and not seen as a taboo. Desire between humans and vampires has always been there. It's all about getting inside your own head and becoming that character you are writing about.

You can find out more about the author at her website, and at her blog.

Labels: , , ,

Friday, July 13, 2007


Intimacy isn't always sex; nor should it be.

The artist of this work, titled Physical Connection, is enchantedone. She writes of this work:
My idea was for a physical connection between male and female. Not something extremely sexual, but something deffinitly with some tension and sweetness.
Sometimes, this is the best way to establish, or reestablish, a connection.

Labels: , , , ,

Monday, June 11, 2007

Zane Interview

From She's famous but anonymous: the enigma of erotic author Zane:
Zane's take on sex is hardly revolutionary: it should be safe and pleasurable, and communication is the key to stronger, more satisfying relationships. But her straightforward, conversational prose resonates in the black community, Mackey said.

"It's not openly discussed in most of our homes," Mackey said. "I had to learn from books or friends and big sisters. To have an author come out and broach this, even in fiction, is a breakthrough for us."

Zane's readers agree. Her work "goes right to the heart of modern sexuality," said Harold Fisher, a former Baltimore TV news anchor and one of a few men who joined dozens of women fans at a local book signing. "We all have sex. We just need to relax about it."
Also from the interview:
"Whereas most people don't have an issue with what I do, there are those who are self-righteous and do have an issue," Zane says. "So it's just not fair for other people who have absolutely nothing to do with it to be affected by that, because they didn't make this choice. I did."

Zane says she has a good relationship with her parents, but she didn't tell her mother about her writing career until she had three titles on the Essence bestseller list. It took her father a while to warm up to the idea of his daughter writing erotica, but he when he read "Nervous" - about a meek woman who channels her sexual aggressiveness into an alternate personality - "he thought it was brilliant," she says.
Two nifty things I learned:

I had no idea Zane was a chemist!

Zane started Strebor Books, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, in 1999.

Labels: , , ,

Sunday, June 10, 2007

Bisexual Married Women - Thanks!

Bisexual Married Women

Inside Jolie's Head - 6/10/2007

Thanks to the women who contributed essays and to our readers. As a final post, here is a story I wrote, a few years ago, with bisexual married women as characters.


By Jolie du Pre

Copyright 2004

Five mothers gathered in front of Howard Elementary School to pick up their kids. Dismissal was at 2:30, but they liked to arrive early to give themselves a chance to talk before they returned to their homes. Their other children, too young for Howard, frolicked on the school's playground just a few feet away.

"Will Carrie and Jonathan play soccer this summer?" Linda asked Madeline as Madeline placed Eva in her stroller.

"Yeah," Madeline replied, handing Eva her rattle and then standing to stretch her back. "But I can hardly afford it. They raised the fee. I paid $300.00 for them this time."

"I think I've spent about $500.00 so far on activities," Teresa said. "It adds up."

"Yes, but no amount of money is too much for some peace and quiet," said Marcia. "I'm sending my Timmy to a four-week computer camp. Then I'm going to lie on my lounge chair and drink Margaritas the entire time he's gone. I need it!"

Linda, Madeline and Teresa nodded at Marcia and laughed in agreement, while Susan listened and tried to concentrate. Susan never felt as organized as the other mothers. She almost forgot to sign Parker up for camp and remembered only when Linda called and asked if she wanted to car pool.

Susan watched as Howard's lot filled with more adults. It was 2:20. Once 2:30 arrived and school let out, she would gather her two kids and then rush home to check her messages on the computer.

For Susan, after school used to be reserved for cookies and homework. She would plop herself on the family couch, worn with overuse, and devote the time to helping Sydney and Parker with math problems, vocabulary words, book reports and other assignments. Roughly 45 minutes into it, she'd present homemade cookies, because it made her feel like a good mom and because she enjoyed the look on her kids' faces when they saw them.

Now when Susan returned home from school with her children, she found Alice's e-mails. Alice sent mail only during her lunch breaks. If Susan didn't read it after school, she'd have to wait until morning, when George and the kids were gone, and she couldn't bear to wait that long.

So the kids worked alone on their homework and cookies were left on a plate in the kitchen. Reading Alice's mail and responding took at least an hour. Afterward, in the time remaining, Susan would lend her help to Sydney and Parker before it was time to make supper.

It had been three months since she met Alice through a message board on the Internet. Two years earlier, George had bought Susan a lap top, and she soon discovered message boards, chat rooms and electronic mail while home alone. She'd always had sexual feelings for women and now she could connect with females like herself.

I'M SEEKING WOMEN, AGES 35 TO 45, FOR FRIENDSHIP, Alice had posted, but Susan knew a posting under Married Bisexuals would lead to more than just friendship.

This wasn't new for Susan. Before Alice there had been Christine. Christine lived only two miles away, but she had never felt comfortable seeing Susan behind George's back.

"He won't understand if I tell him about you," Susan had said to Christine over coffee at Java Town, their favorite meeting place.

"Well, my husband knows. Like I've told you, we don't believe in secrets. He's totally cool with my seeing you," Christine had said.

"You're lucky. George would leave me if he found out."

"Why risk it then?"

Christine had asked the question before, even though she knew the answer. Susan had shifted in her seat and wondered how many more times they would go over it.

"Because I need you, Christine. I need a woman in my life."

"I understand Sue, but this just doesn't feel right."

A week later, Christine and Susan broke up. Susan, devastated at first, searched for someone else. Alice's post had appeared six months later.

Dwayne, Alice's husband, knew about Susan, and it didn't bother Alice that George knew nothing about her. For Susan, it was almost perfect, except that Alice lived in Atlanta, many miles away from Susan's home in Illinois.

Dreams of Alice were frequent and vivid for Susan as she lay next to George at night. Sometimes when George put his mouth on her lips, she pretended his lips belonged to Alice. And his penis, the one that had entered her so many times before, now gave her powerful orgasms whenever she imagined Alice's touch.

She'd seen a photo of Alice, sent to her online. She looked to be about forty-five, fair with long dark wavy hair, large firm breasts under a low-cut tank and full lips adorned with red lipstick; lips Susan wanted to kiss and breasts Susan ached to suck.

"I don't like to send photos, but since we've had some intimate conversations, I thought I would," Alice had said. Susan responded in kind with her best smile and done hair. "You're very pretty," was Alice's reply.

Sometimes they chatted online about Alice's work as a psychiatrist, tales full of quirky patients. Although, when Susan grew tired of discussing Alice's work, it was she who moved the topic of their conversation to sex.

Five months into the relationship Susan wrote, "I can't stand this anymore. I've got to see you."

"I feel the same way, but how can you possibly get away?" Alice responded.

Susan had a plan. She told George that an old college girlfriend, now living in Georgia, wanted her to visit for the weekend and that Teresa would be available to watch Sydney and Parker if George needed it. George agreed, as long as Susan left on Saturday and returned on Sunday. Susan didn't argue.

Now Susan beamed in the grocery store, and at the post office, and in front of her friends, knowing that soon she would fuck Alice. She was beside herself with the thought, wet all the time and careless. She even left her vibrator out by mistake, right in the hands of her youngest, Sydney.

"Mommy what is this?" Sydney asked.

Susan grabbed it out of her hands and didn't reply. It's Alice, she thought to herself with a smile as she put it away.

On the plane to Atlanta, Susan quashed her butterflies with two shots of Jack Daniels. Once off the plane, Susan realized that Alice wasn't there. So she waited. She had traveled all the way to Atlanta. What will I do if she doesn't show up? she thought. Then, she saw a wavy haired woman sprint down the corridor toward her. Susan smiled with relief.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Alice said, pulling Susan toward her to give her a hug. "My God, you're so beautiful."

"It's really good to finally meet you," Susan said. She stared at Alice, in person for the first time, and saw a face that wasn't as pretty as in the photo. So she looked away and let her eyes fall on Alice's breasts, breasts that were as high and as large as she had hoped.

"Let's get some lunch before we head to the hotel. I'm starving," said Alice.

Alice's face, under the dim lights of the restaurant, looked better to Susan than under the harsh lights of the airport. Susan, still high from the shots of Jack Daniels, ordered a glass of red wine to maintain her buzz. Alice talked about her patients, once again, and Susan tried to imagine Alice naked while she pretended to listen.

"I saw Carmella again today," Alice said. "She's bipolar. Sue, do you know what bipolar means?"

"Yes," said Susan, "and I also know what pussy means."

Alice looked at Susan and fell silent for a moment. Then she leaned forward. "What are you going to do to me?"

Susan stared dead into Alice's eyes which caused Alice to shrink back. "Everything," Susan said.

Alice's eyes left Susan's gaze as she lowered her head and smiled. Susan grinned. She enjoyed reducing Alice, overconfident, over talkative and consumed with her profession to silence. Now Susan felt flush with her lust for Alice. The only thing she wanted to do was fuck Alice's brain out.

"I think we should go," Alice said.

"Good idea," Susan replied.

The hotel room was on the fancier end, but Susan didn't notice. Barely inside, she pushed Alice onto the king-sized bed and climbed on her. She felt Alice's large breasts under her own small ones.

She grabbed Alice's wavy hair and lowered her face to Alice's lips. Susan longed for Alice even more with the touch of her soft, wet mouth.

Susan unbuttoned Alice's blouse and opened it to reveal her bra. "I wore this red lacy thing just for you," said Alice. Her large breasts heaved out of the top lace of the bra. Susan throbbed at the sight of them.

"I don't know why, 'cause I'm just going to rip this thing off," Susan said.

"Gentle, dear. It's from Paris and it ain't cheap."

Susan smiled and reached her hands behind Alice's back. She unclipped the red bra revealing the breasts she had dreamed about.

Alice lay there topless. Her large breasts spread across her chest, her nipples dark and erect with excitement. Susan grabbed both breasts, pushed them together and ran her tongue down Alice's deep cleavage. She licked Alice's nipples, tenderly at first and them sucked and lapped at them furiously.

"Sue, I want you so bad!" Alice shouted. "I'm so wet. I want you to eat me."

"I'll eat you when I'm good and ready."

She grabbed Alice's skirt and pulled it down her legs. Then she removed her pantyhose, damp at the crotch, exposing the think, dark hair on her mound. She slid a finger into Alice's wetness, and then she yanked it out.

"Oh my God! Don't stop Sue, please."

Susan put her mouth to Alice's ear. "Spread your legs for me," she whispered.

"Yes," Alice whimpered.

Susan buried her mouth into Alice and in no time Alice bucked and roared with an explosive orgasm.

At six that morning, Susan lay awake next to a sleeping Alice. She had given pleasure and gotten it from someone other than George. The night was over. Soon she would return to Illinois.

Susan got out of bed and sat in a chair, staring at Alice while she slept. How could this go on? She thought. They could continue to chat online and send e-mails, but her hunger for Alice's body would always be there.

She loved George and she loved being a mother to Sydney and Parker. It was a life she didn't want to give up, but if she told George about her affair with Alice, she would have to. George was traditional and he was homophobic. He didn't know he married a bisexual. He couldn't know.

"You're up early," said Alice, straining to see as she awoke. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm just thinking."

"About us?"


"It'll be okay. I can come to Chicago in October. I love the Four Seasons, so I'll stay there. You can sneak off to see me, and George will never know."

"Alice, you know I can't continue like this. This is crazy. I don't know what I'm going to do." Susan put her head in her hands.

"Sue, I understand. This has got to be hard for you. Are you sure you can't approach this subject with George, slowly? I can help you with how to do it."

"I'm not one of your patients."

"I know Sue. I didn't mean it that way."

"I'm sorry, but George is nothing like Dwayne. He won't understand. I just wish you lived in Chicago. It would be so much easier."

"And I wish you lived here. Maybe we should leave it like this, Sue. We can continue to keep in touch, but your marriage is important. Perhaps visits like these are too much of a risk."

Susan stared at the floor and then looked at Alice. Alice's dark wavy hair sprayed across her delicate shoulders, and the crest of her bosom peaked gently out of the top of the comforter. Her early morning face, sans makeup, looked relaxed and honest. She was indeed beautiful.

Susan smiled.

"What is it?" said Alice.

"When did you say you could come to Chicago?"


Jolie du Pre is an author of lesbian erotica and lesbian erotic romance. Her first anthology, Iridescence: Sensuous Shades of Lesbian Erotica, is now in print . Order Iridescence: Sensuous Shades of Lesbian Erotica today.

Music for 6/10/2007 Blogging - Patti Smith

Labels: , , , , ,

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Erotica the Power Play Way

Awhile ago I wrote some tips on How To Use Erotica. Once section, Erotica the Power Play Way, got quite a number of emails...
* Master Says
Read to your partner and see how long she can go without touching herself ~ in any way. She is not allowed to rub her legs together, tweak her own nipples, or even use her own mouth (lick lips, bite lower lip etc) without your permission. In order to do so, she must ask "Master, may I?" and you can decide if and when she may have the release she seeks.

* I've Been A Bad Boy, Mother Goose
I enjoy dressing as a stern nanny or Dominatrix for my part, and have him undress for his role as the naughty boy. Then I tell him the rules: "You will listen to the story, and you will not touch yourself. Not one little bit, or you will get a spanking. If you understand, say 'Yes, Mistress'." Once he agrees, I begin to read. Obviously, you will have to follow through each and every time he does touch himself and if he's the sort who adores erotic spankings he is going to try to wanker-off at every word, so you may need to provide additional rules or consequences. Perhaps you'll need to up the ante to nipple twists? Maybe you'll need to tell the bad boy that storytime will end with his going to bed alone if he continues to interrupt... Or maybe he'll need to drop and give you 20 ~ pussy licks, that is! Be flexible in his likes and in his ability to last, and you and your naughty boy will make Mother Goose as much a part of your regular bedtime activities as brushing your teeth.

* Enchanted Erotic Recipe
Leave the book on your partner's pillow with the selected story clearly marked. On top of the book place your handwritten note with instructions: "Read this story, and be prepared for tonight..." If the story is one that you'd like to act out and it requires props of some sort (special outfits, toys, food items, etc), clearly state in your note that she is required to provide such ingredients. Women love, Love, LOVE anticipation. Making her wait for hours (or days if you tell her on Wednesday to prepare for Saturday!) will put her under an enchanted erotic spell.
Most of the emails were from folks who were aroused by the ideas but felt their partner wasn't quite ready to do this yet. How, they wondered, do you get your partner to move past reading and acting on those naughty impulses?

Here are a few beginner steps:

* Shy Try
For partners who are a bit worried about trying something new, this is a great warm-up to 'bigger and better' sex play scenes. One of you selects three stories based on fantasies you've discussed but haven't had the guts to try yet. Take the titles of each one, put them in a 'hat' and have the other draw one that you'll both try that night.

The catch is, that the one of you must be tied up and blindfolded as they listen to the other read the story. This not only removes some of the embarrassment (or discomfort of 'new') and prevents them from quitting/leaving, but the arousal of listening as their partner strokes and touches them transfers the anxiety into arousal... The reader has the power to stop reading and give-in to lusty needs at any time ~ at their own discretion, of course!

* Hands-On
Similar to the 'Shy Guy,' only instead of binding & blindfolding your partner, you tape yourself reading a story (or buy an audio recording to play). As the story is read, massage your partner. Again the combination of touch and listening acts as emotional lube, releasing inhibitions.

The power play comes in when the one massaging feels their partner is putty in their hands and will now try out the story line or act. (It's perfectly fine to make them wait, make them plead!)

* Half-And-Half
Tell your partner that you'll read the start of the story, preferably one that he doesn't know, and then stop reading and have him tell you how he'd finish the story ~ if he pleases you with the story's ending, you'll allow him to act it out.

In any of these scenarios, if your partner is aroused but still not ready to give it a real try, that's OK. So maybe the first few times you still have sex without the 'real' or 'heavy' power play ~ you are both still working on the fantasies. Sometimes it takes a few steps like this for them to feel comfortable enough to really let go.

Don't force it, or get upset. A lusty roll is positive reinforcement, and your patience & understanding will go a long way to reassure them the next time. Then you can take the teasing further into power play ~ and get your way!

Now it's your turn... What ways do you have to turn reading erotica into a fun sexual power play?

Labels: , , , , ,

Friday, May 18, 2007

The Push and The Pull, Erotica by Georgina Ragazza

Sex writers aren't supposed to have hang-ups, Lila thought...

What's a girl to do, when her lover's horny -- but she can't quite bring herself to bridge a personal taboo?
Author Georgina Ragazza wrote this sexy story of acceptance and when she submitted it to Tit-Elation she said, "I wanted to write an erotic yet tender story about menstruation, because it's a subject which tends to get overlooked!"

Here's the story, The Push and The Pull, in full:

Lila looked over her laptop at Michael's computer screen on the other side of the room.

A pert Goth girl gazed up through candy-pink bangs and thrust her breasts out. She was ordinary and real, a proper person with a bit of a tummy and a nice smile. A shaved snatch glistened between splayed legs.

"Come and play with me!" read the banner.

Lila caught Michael's blush as he switched back to his Word document.

"You don't have to do that on my account," she said. But she had that cold feeling in the bottom of her stomach and thought of snakes in pits. She watched him force an embarrassed smile.

Lila looked at her own laptop screen full of vintage nudes and minimized the story she'd been writing about Victorians and their obsession with spanking. She was such a hypocrite - why did she feel this way? She researched passion and beauty, and then wrote about it. Some of the dirtiest words came out of her head; her stories were full of wildness and strange fantasies.

She couldn't explain the snakes crawling in her belly and the way the dark pain gripped her insides.

Michael walked over to hug her from behind and she shivered at his touch. His skin smelt like sun and oranges and she wanted to drink him in. She ran her fingers over his arms and traced the taut muscles. She knew that he loved her. She knew there was no one else.

They had met online a year ago, and for that first month Michael had been words on a screen, a message here and there. Longer conversations led to photographs and Lila was hooked. The first time they had phone sex she cried afterwards, by herself in the dark.

When she saw his face for real, her heart came undone. He hugged her so close on the station platform that she almost fainted. A proper swoon. Apart from one lonely weekend, they were inseparable from then on.

She was in her ripe 40s and he was a good generation younger, full of the fire that men seem to lose as the years grind them down. He told her he was in love with her passionate wisdom, and she adored his endless spirit.

Every day he said, "I love you." When she was working, he cuddled her and made her cups of tea. At night he smiled and kissed her and wrapped his arms around her. He couldn't sleep unless she was in the bed with him.

He was everything and he was hers.

Lila had never known a man as tender as Michael. His kisses were slow and tentative; his fingers touched her skin with care, as if he were exploring a new terrain. The first time he inched his cock inside her, she saw his eyes widen.

"We're a perfect fit," he gasped. He rocked, slid against the ache of her sex, whilst his fingers traced her face. She heard the click of boxes unlocking in her soul, and felt the joy and the secrets and the need tumble out.

When he came, he held her close.

"Before you it was just sex," he whispered. "You're the only woman I've ever made love to, the only woman I've ever wanted to make love to."

We lost our virginity together, he said. Souls only fuse once, and now we belong to each other.

The trouble had started the first time she got her period. They couldn't make love for the first time in their romance, couldn't melt together. She made a face when he suggested it.

"I'm cool with it," he said. "I want you and your blood is part of you, part of me, part of us."

She caressed him, and tried to take him in her mouth.

"That's not making love," he said. "That's just fucking. I don't want to go back to the days of fumbling and groping and half-arsed dating. I want to be inside you."


She'd fucked a friend of her brother years ago, some Indie kid who'd supplied her with dope and had the hots for her. It was a perfunctory screw, more stoned than horny, and she was at the rusty end of bleeding.

It was a disaster, an embarrassment. His half-hard cock got stuck in dried clots and the smell made her gag. She never saw him again and was relieved. She hadn't told Michael any of this.

So he lay next to her that first night and he stroked her skin and kissed her but they were separate. After he wanked himself to sleep she spooned him and smelled the sweat on his skin. That's when the snakes began to writhe.

His need was palpable to her. She knew he dreaded her period because he said it felt like a loss. The hormonal swell of your breasts excites me, he had told her. Could I just touch you? All she could smell was the metallic tang of her crotch and she disgusted herself. She felt the bed rock with his strokes.

"I like porn because it's physical," he said. "Nothing to do with love. I don't want to make love to the girls in the pictures. They're tits and ass and nothing more, a release of frustration, a diversion. You make my heart leap and catch my soul on fire. The smell of your hair intoxicates me, and your smile makes my day worthwhile."

She typed out her stories and looked at the full Victorian women in the sepia photos and wondered what they thought about.

Lila felt like she had failed him when the blood began to flow. It was a complicated mix of not being pregnant and not being available. She wondered if the girls on his screen were available. Would blood excite them, and make them horny?

She wrote a story about a rock chick and a guitarist painting each other with red streaks and licking each other's hot bodies into a frenzy. She re-read Erica Jong's tampon scene. She shuddered.

Michael's hard drive filled up with videos and pictures and every month the bed shook. You're my sexual fantasy, he'd told her, my sexual reality. You take me to places I've never even dreamed of. Don't you know how beautiful you are? Can't you feel how much you make me come?

Every time she caught a glimpse of his screen he winced and held her and told her she was sexy. She felt the snakes boiling deep inside and couldn't explain.


Lila had found an old photo of herself.

Long thick brown hair fell around a smooth face, and her dark eyes sparkled. There were no bags and no spare flesh. She was young once.

Michael took the photo and smiled at her.

"Look how pretty you are," he said.

"Look how pretty I was." She frowned and the porn images flooded her head.

These girls were words on a screen, a message here and there, just as she'd been. But they were a good 20 years younger than Lila, and she knew she couldn't keep up with them. Every day brought a fresh wrinkle to her face, a new grey hair. Her breasts were softer and heavier, and her waist had started to thicken.

"But you're perfect to me!" he said.

She saw a cloud of frustration pass across his face, and she pulled the old photo away.

"Don't do that." His voice was quiet and hurt. "When I look at you, I see that same beautiful girl. You're better than any 20 year old. Why can't you see that?"

Because you look at young naked women, she thought. You masturbate over girls who have no issues, and don't get fat, and never grow old. You never masturbate over me. And when I bleed, I feel cut adrift from you, and I panic. When you wank, you're back in your sex days, and I can't reach you.

She didn't answer him.


She knew she was sexy. She knew he was hers. What she hated more than anything was that for five days every month she didn't feel like his sexual fantasy and she didn't know how to tell him that. She could smell his sweat and his come in the bed and she wanted him so much that it made her cry. She wanted him to turn off the computer, wipe the hard drive clean and never be separate from her.

She was so conscious of herself as a woman, she took such a fierce pride in it. She loved the sharp contrast of their bodies, the excitement of her softness and his hardness, her musk and his salt. She hated that five-day interruption when the irony of menstruation made her feel less like a woman and more like a sewer.

Sex writers aren't supposed to have hang-ups, Lila thought. They push the envelope for everyone else and run around naked with radical tattoos and intimate piercings. Balls to the wall. Sex writers smell of come and blood and juice and they never say "no". Their arses bear the deep imprint of past whippings and their breasts are big and their pussies are shaved into hearts.

She looked at her own screen and the Victorian nudes rolled their eyes and showed her their bums.

Write what you know, they said. Live from your heart and your soul. Do you think that the first time the shutter clicked at our nakedness, we weren't afraid? Do you believe that we came to this life prepared and bold?
Love is scary, and it's a leap of faith. He already belongs to you - now give him everything you have.

She clicked the lid of the laptop and looked up at Michael.

"Am I beautiful?" she asked. She watched him stifle a sigh and leaned towards him to grab his hands. "Am I?"

Lila smiled as she caught him off guard. He gave her a quick, soft kiss and was about to speak when she put her finger to his lips.

"Put on the cowboy hat," she said. "You know what that does to me."

Now he looked confused. She knew he was about to ask her where she was in her cycle, and she let out a throaty laugh. His cock was pushing at his zipper and she squeezed it just enough to make him sigh.

He pulled her into a long, wet kiss and she melted on his tongue. Her lips became soft liquid fire as she lapped and tugged, and a wave of longing rushed through her, wild and sweet. Her breasts were still a little swollen, as she drew his hand down under her blouse and rubbed him over her nipple.

He groaned for her and she tore at the buttons of his shirt. His glorious skin was fresh and smooth and she thought of eating him. She curved a slow gentle trail of kisses over his chest, and down to the fur at the edge of his belly. He arched up to her mouth, as she undid his fly buttons one by one, and stopped at the sight of his glorious pink cock.

Michael looked at her and shook his head. She laughed and tore off his pants, and licked up the length of his shaft. A small tear of pre-come shone at the tip, and she lapped at it, and drew him into her mouth.

"Baby, please don't." He tried to protest but began to shake, as she sucked harder and raked her long fingernails under his thighs and brought him in closer. He bumped his hips upwards with his fingers tangled in her hair. She squeezed his cock, pulled her mouth away, and stretched herself over his body.

"All of this is making love when it's with you," she said.

He arched against her pussy and hesitated, still unsure, and started to ease her off her clothes. The snakes thrashed in her belly and she looked them in the eye.

Stop. I'm not listening to you any more.

His eyes were bright with love and lust and she kissed him hard.

"No one makes me laugh as much as you do," she said. "You astound me with your joy and your fire, and you blow me away with all that you are. You're my forever."

He traced the curves of her soft heavy breasts and teased at the nipples until she moaned and sighed. His fingers swept along the lips of her aching cunt as he spread the slippery blood around her clit and squeezed her between his fingertips. Everything was wet and warm, and she tingled against his touch.

She concentrated on his eyes and her desire and spread her legs wide for him.

"Now," she said.

As his cock slid in she closed her eyes and thought of his face on the station platform. She let her heart come undone. He pushed in and she heard his first joke, he pulled out and she saw his first smile. And everything was intimacy and wonder and freedom. The musk and the salt, the heat and the glorious sweetness of it all swept over and down and caught them in a perfect moment of bliss.

And yes, the smell was wrong and there was blood all over the floor but his eyes were wide and full of his soul and she gazed up at him and sighed. And no, the women on the screen didn't cry, didn't shout, never bled, weren't fucked up. They never got embarrassed. They didn't think about which brand of carpet shampoo would get out bloodstains. They weren't real.

Michael and Lila melted into each other, a sticky, silly, breathless heap.

She kissed the tip of his nose, and smiled.

"Oh, how beautiful we are," she said.

** This story was published at Tit-Elation, used with permission, of course!

Labels: , , ,

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

No one IS Sex

A few years back I had a friend who contributed towards my growing as a sexual person. She is an amazing person. I'm going to call her Peaches because that was my special nickname for her and because no one who reads this would identify her by that name except for a few people who know her and I really well.

Anyway, Peaches is this beautiful woman who is completely secure in her sexuality. She's had a wide array of sexual experiences and isn't afraid of trying new things. When I met her she was very curvy. Some would say overweight but I prefer to say she was voluptuous. She's a lot thinner now and the funny thing is it hasn't made her sexier. She's just as sexy as she ever was. But when she was curvier, she wasn't ashamed of it. She embraced her curves. But this isn't about her curves. This is about how people perceived her and how people have perceived me.

This is about how the world perceives a woman who is confident in her sexuality.

Peaches could talk about anything sexually. She didn't reveal everything to everyone because she didn't need to but if someone asked her a question she wasn't ashamed to give an honest answer. Peaches loved men and sometimes women (and I was fortunate enough to be one of those women for a time) and could see beauty in all sorts of people. She loved to laugh and a lot of the time we were laughing about sex because let's face it, sex can be pretty damn funny sometimes. She loved to tease and play coy and loved knowing that she could arouse someone. Sex was fun. Sex could be serious with her too but that was reserved for special people.

One day someone said, "Peaches IS sex!" I don't recall whether they said it to her face or behind her back. If they said it to her face I know she would have been very upset about it. If they said it in front of me, I was very upset. To this day I don't remember which it was. Years later, someone said the same thing about me. If you're a sex worker or a writer who enjoys the topic of sex maybe someone has said that about you, too.

No one IS sex. They may enjoy talking about it, writing about it, or participating in it for fun or as a career, but NO ONE IS sex. People who love sex have lives and I think it is important for others to realize that.

Peaches also loved kitties and had a really close relationship with her family. She had an eating disorder as a teenager that was very difficult to overcome. She got hurt by people's words and sometimes she cried. She is incredibly intelligent and has a degree in Art History. She's written some fabulous papers. She struggles with depression. There are parts of her life that are great and some not so great. She's not sex.

I'm a single mom and I take my parenting role very seriously. I'm engaged to a wonderful man and we don't just fuck our brains out every night. We talk and we laugh a lot and we worry about bills and whether "the girl" (my daughter) is growing up too fast and if "the boy" (my son) is getting enough sleep. We make plans for our future and have goals that don't include when we can find time for a quickie. I am not sex.

People can love sex or work in the sex industry or both, but no one IS sex.

Labels: , , ,