Why erotica is important

I believe that good fiction must inhabit a world which is, in some way, more than the real world. Like a dream a good story reveals new possibilities to us and by doing so it expands our mind and our soul. Erotica, perhaps more than any other kind of fiction, inhabits a special dream world all its own; a world that I call Fuckland.

Fuckland is magical place ruled by beauty and pleasure where even your most secret wish – the one that whispers to you from the deepest dark, in a voice you can’t quite hear, saying words you can’t quite understand – even that wish can come true in Fuckland. If you can’t ever let what you really desire out into the light where you can see it and know it how can you ever hope to really know who you are?

Fuckland, like any place of dream and imagination, is where you meet the human being you capable of being.

I went to a Halloween party… (part two)

I knelt down beside “Lee” and watched her intently. It was like watching someone slowly awaken from a deep and sticky dream but before she recovered completely I ran my fingertips lightly up the inside of her thigh until I found the wetness of her pussy and started gently teasing her. I slowly brought her close to orgasm and when her hips were vigorously responding to my fingers, I stopped.

I buried my face in her curly hair until my lips were touching her ear and whispered “Do you want to come?”

“yesss” she breathed.

“Then ask me for it.”

“Please Sir! Let me come!”

I took a slow deep breath that was full of the scent of her hair. “No. You don’t get your reward yet. Get up and get your coat. We’re going somewhere special.”

I stood up and helped “Lee” get to her feet. She swayed a bit as she smoothed her skirt down and straightened her blouse. I called for a cab and made a few suggestions for her to correct about her appearance. “Leave your panties here.”

Once “Lee” was presentable enough to pass for an ordinary party goer, I took her elbow and guided her towards the office door. She studied my profile, but did not speak. We make a few quick goodbyes and stepped into the autumn night and into the waiting taxi.

I leaned forward to murmur our destination to the driver then turned to “Lee.”

“Close your eyes and don’t you dare open them until I tell you to.” She obeyed instantly and sat at attention with her chin tilted into the air and the faintest smile on her lips. I studied the curve of her beautiful nose. The way the glow of the passing street lights shone like a nimbus in her hair. I absorbed the curve of her dark eyelashes and the creamy translucence of her skin. I drunk in the red lusciousness of her wine dark lips and hot tears welled up in my eyes. She was so beautiful, so proud, and so obedient. Somehow she made me feel more loved in that moment then I had ever been before and as I thought that thought my traitorous chin began to quiver uncontrollably. I turned my face away to compose myself as the taxi pulled up to the curb fronting our destination.

I quickly stepped around the cab and opened her door. I reached down and took her hand and as I helped her out of the cab I said “You may open your eyes now.” Now she could see the restaurant with its long row of wide windows and inside a long communal table mostly full of attractive diners, the candle light dancing on their happy faces. I could see lights twinkling in her dark eyes and she flashed me a happy grin. I wrapped her arm in mine and we strode in like any happy couple.

We got a seat at a corner of the communal table. Me, then “Lee,” and then around the corner was a beautiful woman with big bright gray eyes who was with a number of friends. We exchanged pleasant smiles with “Athena” as we sat down.

I ordered drinks for both of us and “Athena’s” eyes flicked towards “Lee” with curiosity, but she didn’t dare to ask why “Lee” didn’t order for herself. “Athena’s” attention turned back to her friends, but she was not a very active part of their discussions and she occasionally smiled in our direction and the third time she did we locked eyes and she watched me whisper something in “Lee’s” ear.

“You will sit right here, and you will touch yourself until you come.” Was what I whispered to “Lee”, my hand firmly on her bare leg. I watched “Athena” as she carefully watched “Lee’s” reaction to my whisper, but what she made of “Lee’s” nostrils flaring I didn’t know. One of “Athena’s” friends asked her a question and “Lee” adjusted her body. She placed her napkin across her lap and moved as close to the table as she could, her posture still as erect as it had been in the cab.

Ever so carefully “Lee’s” hand stole between her legs and I was glad I had made her leave her panties behind. “Lee” worked slowly, trying to look like someone with her hands folded neatly in her lap, waiting patiently but I could feel her legs rhythmically opening and closing. I sipped my drink and watched the other diners, engrossed in their conversations, completely oblivious to “Lee” gently masturbating next to me. A waitress came by and I focused her attention on me. I ordered “Lee” another drink, and this attracted “Athena’s” wandering attention again. She watched “Lee’s” face as it was at that moment, a combination of intense focus and total enrapture and slowly her bright gray eyes widened in understanding. “Athena” licked her lips, and even in the dim candle light I could see her cheeks flush. She was embarrassed and looked away very consciously not looking at me, but she couldn’t concentrate on what her friends were saying and responded strangely to some question. She finally took to trying watch “Lee” surreptitiously in the reflection of the restaurant window.

I could feel “Lee’s” leg beginning to quiver uncontrollably and I leaned passed her to ask “Athena” a question.

“What’s your name?”

She turned around and said, “O…liv…ia.” Her syllables rose and fell as if in sympathy with the orgasm she was unashamedly watching “Lee” experience.

I went to a Halloween party… (part one)

…there was a pretty woman there alone. She had bright eyes and thick hair in springy ringlets. Her costume, as it was, was a light blue silk blouse, a charcoal jacket, and matching skirt hemmed just above her knees. No pantyhose, just bare smooth skin.

We got that chance to talk a bit and I finally asked her what her costume was.
“I’m Maggie Gyllenhaal.”
“In any particular movie?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t know what to do so I just decided dress nice.”

The flow of the party drew us apart, but when she went down the hall into our host’s modernly appointed office to take a call I quietly followed her. I waited in the dark hallway until she hung up then I slide quietly into the doorway and said, “I know which Maggie Gyllenhaal character you are.”

“Oh?” She asked. Her back was to me and she didn’t turn around, only turned her head so I could admire her profile backlight by a little desk lamp.

 ”You’re Lee Holloway.” She only smiled so I ventured further, “Put your elbows on the desk and bend over.” Her gaze flicked towards me in surprise and then down to my feet. She obeyed my command, keeping her eyes downcast, but rolling her hips slowly as she walked to the desk and bent into position.

I closed and locked the office door and admired the tightness of her skirt as I slowly came up behind her. She was tall so placing her elbows on the desk required her to bend over significantly and made it harder for her to hold her head up and watch my movements reflected against the black of night in the office window. By the time I placed my left hand firmly on the small of her back her face was turned down to watch her own reflection in the glass topped desk.

“Put your feet together and straighten your knees.” I commanded and she obeyed. The thumping dance music of party was temporarily quiet, so while my left hand held her in position, I leisurely smoothed her skirt with my right. My fingertips lightly brushed the back of her bare legs and I could feel her sharp intake of breath as much as I could hear it and I could see the goose bumps appear on her bare arms and legs. Outside someone had finally found the song they wanted and the dancing resumed with a cheer.

There was nothing hesitant about my first spank, it was hard. Full of more pent up and conflicting emotions then I care to admit. The second was hardly less severe and after the fifth I paused to catch my breath. “Lee” had her cheek pressed into the desk and her panting breath had condensed into a large cloud on the cold glass. When I paused after just five spankings she looked at me directly for the first time since I had followed her down the hall. She had a mocking smile and her eyes gleamed with unsatisfied desires.

Spurred by her challenge I lifted her skirt up to her waist and found that she was as bare as her legs underneath. Not only panty-less, but her gorgeous pussy was completely shaven and its pink lips were glistening in the lamplight. She smiled and rolled her hips a little bit. I unfastened my belt, doubled it up, and lashed it down on her. On her ass, across her cheeks, across the back of her legs. Lash after lash until her skin was flaming red and her quivering knees could no longer hold her up and she sank to the floor gasping and quivering.

Strangers on a Train

I hate talking. Words are just obfuscations of reality. The difference between seeing a glorious sunset with your own eyes and the image that you get if someone tells you “I saw a sunset, it was orange” is so vast. Words are not real, touching is real, seeing is real. That’s why lovers spend so much time looking into each others eyes, not to mention touching. REAL is why we love to be in love. Why we love to see and touch and feel because it’s real.

Erotic Alphabet

Awhile back I posted this series of erotic illustrations on my tumblr blog as an alphabet of sex. Recently, however, I discovered I had the same collection in a higher resolution then the ones I used on tumblr, so at the risk of repeating myself, I decided to share them with the world again.

A is for Amorally Amorous Appetites.

B is for Buxom Beauties in Bondage

C is for Soft Creamy Cunts Craving Cunnilingus

D is for Deceptively Dirty Damsels in Distress

E is for Engorged Extremities Exploring Wet Depths

F is for Fleshy Frolicking Fornication

G is for Girls with Greedy Gleeming Eyes

H is for heaven’s angelic girls and also the sensuous temptresses of hell

I is for Intriguingly Intense Erotic Itches.

J is for Juicy and Joy-filled Joining.

K is for Kissing and Kinky shenanigans of course.

L is for Lovely full Lips that are Longing for kissing.

M is for Mystery. The Most erotic of spices.

N is for Naked. Naughty and Naked with Nothing hidden from one another.

O is for amazing, mind-bursting, universe-erasing Orgasms.

P is for Pleasure. Soft, Passionate, deep, Pulsating and Profound whether Private or Public.

Q is for Cute little Quivering Quims

R is for being unburdened with Regrets.

S is for Sex; Scandalously Sinful and Satisfying

T is for Tempting Tarts with Tasty Tight Twats.

U is for Us because I would be alone without You.

V is for Vixens Virgins and Vice as well as nice Vantage points for practicing Voyeurism.

W can only only be for Women. Wild and Wonderous, Wistful and Wise. So many amazing and beautiful Women.

X marks the spot my whip licks your flesh.

Y is for Your long ululating Yells of pleasure.

Z is the end but that only means it’s time to go back to A and do it Again.

here we are

There’s nothing at all like sex. Nothing. Is there another human activity that is talked about so much but so circumspectly? Anything that is so central to our existence and yet so misunderstood? Anything that so intensely provokes our interest and at the same time our shyness? Is there anything more likely to make us break taboos and unwritten rules?

I’m not a sex researcher, at least, not any more than any other human is a sex researcher. (Even the ones who try so desperately to avoid it.) But I am a curious human and I’d like to know what you think.

Tell me.