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Monday, March 29, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 4-2-10

Your challenge for this Friday, 4-2-10, is to use the photo above (submitted by Diable Incarne; thanks, DI) to write a flash fiction of 88 to 94 words. As usual, nobody's checking word counts, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're breaking them to earn a which case, see me after class.

As always, if you're planning on joining in the fun, please email me (insatiabear (AT) gmail [DOT] com) or leave a comment here. If you don't let me know you're playing, you might get left off the list of participants when I post it on Friday. And nobody wants that. :)

Here's a button for you if you want to include that in your post. Use it to link back to the challenge post, if you like, or link to the Flash Fiction Friday FAQ if you'd rather do that....or, if you participate late in the day, you can even link it to my Friday story post with the list of participants.

Check back here on Friday for my take on the challenge and the list of participants, and then again on Monday for the next FFF challenge!

-- PB

Saturday, March 27, 2010

e[Lust] #10

HNT Courtesy of Babe Lincoln
Welcome to e[lust] - The 10th edition! Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #11? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Negotiation - Not Nearly As Awkward As Having a Breakdown in Public - All the worries about getting to know a new person (“Am I dressed ok? Are they gonna like my stories about my grandma?”) get exaggerated when you’re talking about sex and desire...

Dollar Store Domme - He definitely can't elude the dollops of toothpaste I dab onto his nipples. It takes a delicious second before he feels the cool burn penetrate his flesh. By that time I'm already up and selecting a plastic spatula from the credenza.

The Best of Both Worlds or Lost in Limbo? - Whether intentional or unthinking, bisexual denial is a frustrating thing for bisexual, pansexual or ‘fluid’ people to have to deal with.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Navigating Genderqueer in Suburbia - But pray tell how do the rest of us navigate it? How the hell am I supposed to know if you identify as male or just like dressing like one?

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

The Daddy Issue: Sexualizing Abuse - I needed to walk through this fear, and turn it into pleasure. I needed to prove to myself that he hadn’t broken me. That he hadn’t changed who I was to become. That I was not affected by what he did. That he didn’t abuse me.

See also: Pleasurists #69 and #70 for all your sex toy review needs.

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

Erotic Writing

15 minute phone sex
...And Orgasms On Demand
A Neighbor In Need #7
Afternoon Delight!
Desperation & Dominance
Evening Home, Part 3
First Asleep Loses
Happy ending
I Got....
I am a keeper of secrets
I Got Fucked
I am Coming for You: A Letter to Scin
Late Night Satisfaction
Lolita's Mother
Making M Squirt
Sir ~ intro
The Hatter
The Flash Fiction Friday FAQ!
We fucked, they applauded
Where there is a libido, there is a way
Wicked Wednesday: Idyll

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

20 Reasons Why Sex Is Good
Defining Sex
Hurt me, Pet
I Was Raped
Playing Dumb
Red Flags of an Abusive Partner, Part 2
Restrictions and Satisfaction
Someone Else's Shoes
Sex Isn't Everything
The Art of Sensual Touching-Caressing for You and Your Partner
The STI You Haven't Heard of: Molluscum contagiosum
The Suit
Vibrant Woman or Live Masturbation Sleeve
What I Don't Need

Kink & Fetish

A Little Girl's Need for Submission
Are You Done Yet?
A Reformatory Punishment
BDSM Advice Series: Floggers
Determined to bind
His Slut
I Really Wasn't In The Mood
Pain and Healing
Questions From DH About These Things We Do
Sub Drop: Fact or Fiction?
Tiiu Ashcraft - Fetish Artist and Beauty
The Eroticism of Tattoos
The Competition
Wanting to want

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

A History of Violence
Asshat of the Day Award
Awesome Mentoring Work and Upcoming Apprenticeship

Friday, March 26, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday 3-26-10: "Farewell, My Brave One"

June 19, 1944

It just wasn't right, she thought. So young. So very young. Blooded by combat a dozen times over, and yet he still hadn't known the warmth of a woman's embrace. She watched him heading for his Hellcat, preparing to sail down the deck of the Big E and soar off into the unknown yet again, and suddenly she couldn't stand it.

“Johnny!” she screamed. Wind whipping across the deck tore the words away.

“Johnny!” she screamed again, breaking into a run. This time he turned in time to spread his arms wide as she crashed into him, bearing him back against the fuselage. “Betty, what...?” he started, but she put a finger to his lips. Wordlessly, she began unzipping and undoing his suit, his protests growing more and more faint as more and more skin was exposed. Heads turned. Fingers pointed. But no one intervened as she uncovered his penis and began caressing, licking, sucking it. His moans of shock quickly became moans of ecstasy.

Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of 130-170 words. Nobody's checking word counts, but you're only cheating yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're doing it to earn a spanking (in which case, see me after class).

The following people are participating this week. Why not go check out their take on this FFF?

Spring Flower:
Curvaceous Dee:
Luna Mauvaise:
Diable Incarne:

A gentle reminder: Remember, folks, if you don't let me know you're playing along sometime before Friday, I may leave you off the list of participants, unless I happen to stumble upon your entry on Friday. I want everyone to get the credit they deserve, so please make sure you leave me a comment on the original challenge entry or email me, huh?  [insatiabear (AT) blogspot {dot} com]  will get it to me. Thanks!

Check back here on Monday for the next challenge. Photo submission from Diable Incarne; come and check it out. 

-- PB

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Hot and Wet

"Remind me again why I let you talk me into this?" she inquired, shivering.

"Oh come on, Mar," he said. "You know the water'll feel great when we get there. 105 degrees, the park ranger said."

"Yeah, but he never said it'd be this freakin' cold at 3 AM!" she complained.

"Hey, that's your own fault for wearing just a bikini for the hike," he said. "C'mere. It's only half a mile to the hot springs, I'll keep you warm."

".......bastard," she muttered, refusing to be soothed, teeth still chattering.

"All right, all right," he sighed mock-theatrically. "Here, take my jacket. We're almost there anyway."

"I still can't believe you didn't bring a bathing suit," she said, snuggling into the folds of fleece as they walked.

"Remember what else the ranger said," he reminded her. "At this hour, people tend to regard clothing as optional in the springs."

"Yeah, but what if...."

"What if, what? What if we see some unattractive or overweight people without their clothes? What if there are some prudes there who don't approve? What if I get pounced on by a bevy of beauties when I strip down and hop in?"

She punched him in the ribs, hard. "Ow," he complained.

"Have to keep that ego in check," she said. "It's getting out of control again."

"Yeah, guess I can't argue with that," he said. "Anyway, there's nothing to worry about. Neither of us two cares about showing skin, so why should we give a damn about being nude in front of strangers we'll never see again? And if there are prudes, they'll just leave when they see skin. And as far as 'unattractive' goes, who cares about that either? Everybody's beautiful in their own way."

She shrugged. "Oh, have it your way, Brand. I still think it's going to be deserted at this hour."

"We'll see," he said. "I don't think so, though. Hear that?"

She had. Splashing and laughter drifted to them on the slight breeze from a spot somewhere up ahead.

"Told you we were almost there," he said. "C'mon, let's hurry. I'm getting cold without my jacket."

She punched him again, but not hard this time.


"Now that IS something," she said.

He couldn't think of any better words, and settled for simply squeezing her hand.

Before them in a small vista lay a series of natural hot springs, lit by soft white electric lamps. Steam rose from the bubbling water, coalescing in the chill air. The pools ranged from three or four feet in diameter to forty feet across at the largest. That last was currently occupied by three laughing and splashing couples, all of them naked as the day they were born. Their clothing lay in unheeded heaps nearby. The breeze soughed through the pines, its rustling seeming somehow secretive, approving of this hidden bower.

"Well?" he mused. "Shall we, then?"

She grinned, suddenly looking much more enthusiastic. "Yes, let's."

The other couples had obviously become aware of them -- shouts of greeting drifted across the pools, then changed to raucous yells of ribaldry as he began pulling off his clothes. "Woo! Take it off, baby!" shouted one of the women, standing up and waggling her glistening breasts at him. Brand grinned at her, and added a small bump and grind to his movements as he pulled off his shirt. More catcalls, this time from the two men who had their arms round each other -- another couple, obviously. "Nice pecs, baby!" they shouted. "What else you got in there?"

Mara's face was flaming as the comments continued, both the men and women making more and more pointed observations as her boyfriend slowly pulled off his jeans, revealing a nice ridge in his boxers -- the fucker was obviously getting turned on by this! She heard a soft moan and realized it was hers. Obviously Brand wasn't the only one who was turned on. She grinned. Time to turn the tables on him. She stepped forward and, hooking her fingers into his boxers, yanked them down around his ankles before he could react. His cock sprang out, pointing straight at her, and he gasped as the cold air hit his heated flesh. It wasn't cold long, though, as she opened her mouth and took his shaft down her throat in one swift, practiced move.

Brand shuddered and moaned and his legs wobbled. She felt him pressing on her shoulders for support; dimly she registered the filthy shouts from the onlookers, urging her onward. She started bobbing up and down on his cock, slathering sloppy spit everywhere, her hands going to his ass and pulling him closer or running up and down his legs and thighs. She couldn't believe what she was doing; five minutes ago she'd been wondering how she'd handle it if the springs weren't deserted, and here she was now deep-throating Brand in front of six total strangers, and loving it.

Brand's moans grew louder and louder as she worked his cock furiously with mouth, lips, tongue, throat. He staggered and almost fell and his cock popped out with a wet splatting sound. In a second he had his control back; stooping, he pulled Mara to her feet and spun her around, planting kisses on her throat, her neck, her face, her mouth. Now his hands were all over her, roaming, delighting, arousing her still further. Goosebumps rose in the wake of his heated touch. Her nipples, already hard as stones from the cold, were trying to tear through the fabric of her bikini.

Brand solved that problem by untying her top with fumbling haste and pulling it aside. Wolf whistles and cheers from the occupied spring, now. She felt her face go red again, but instead of giving in to the urge to cover herself, she leaned back into Brand's caresses, spreading her legs and arching her back to make her tits stand out more. She felt his hands lifting and cupping her tits, and he called out to the onlookers: "Impressive, aren't they?" More whistles and cheers in approbation. Now his hands were working industriously between her spread legs. She felt him shift as he kicked free of the jeans and boxers still down around his ankles, then he was untying her bikini bottom as well.

God, is he....? she wondered hazily, and then wondered no longer as his fingers plunged into her pussy. She cried out in wonder and ecstasy -- it was still a shock to her how damn good he felt inside her, whether fingers, cock or tongue -- and felt herself going limp as he worked her sopping slit. She found some strength, and raised her head to direct a challenging stare at the other couples, all of them now cheering wildly and offering suggestions as to how exactly Brand should proceed next. "You like what you see, do you?" she shouted raggedly, and felt her blood burn at the answering shouts.

Brand obviously had his own ideas on how to proceed, though. In a trice she felt herself scooped up. He took the few remaining steps towards the biggest spring, and dropped her into it without so much as a by-your-leave. She gasped again as the enveloping heat rushed over her and she burst to the surface, scattering spray in all directions like an eager dolphin. The cold night air quickly assaulted her wet skin, and she ducked rapidly down again.

Seconds later Brand cannonballed into the water as well. A giant wave arrowed across the pool and smacked the other couples in the face; laughing and choking, they settled back, their own arms and hands now working busily. Obviously the general excitement was catching in more ways than one. She saw the male couple tongue-spelunking furiously, could almost hear the beard stubble rasping from here. The dirty blonde who'd yelled at Brand to "take it off" had her head thrown back and her arms looped around her man's neck; it looked like he'd impaled her quite nicely and she was now hanging on for a ride. The other two had their arms around each other, idly caressing, but were still watching Brand and Mara intently. Their stares were at once challenging and inviting.

Mara looked at Brand and motioned to the watching couple with a twist of her head. "Shall we give them a real show?" she murmured throatily. She lay back, floating, and spread her legs towards Brand. "Let's go, boy. Always wanted to fuck you in the water."

"Then there's no time like the present," he agreed, wading close, guiding his cock into her slit. Water mingled with her juices as he slid home. Mara moaned again, and clenched her legs around his ass. "Wouldn't do to disappoint our audience," he grunted, already starting that nice grinding rhythm that she knew would have her shrieking her pleasure to the stars within minutes. "Now are you glad we came?"

"I haven't yet," she sighed, riding his cock, riding the swells of the waves. Soft murmurs of approval came from the watching couple; the other two were far too wrapped up in each other to care. "But if you keep that up, it isn't going to be long."

-- PB

Monday, March 22, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 3-26-10

First off, thanks to the following fine folk who participated in FFF while I was away from the Internets. Their contributions for last Friday can be found here:

Spring Flower:
Curvaceous Dee:
Luna Mauvaise:
Diable Incarne  (two entries, since he missed the previous FFF):   and

Your challenge for this Friday, 3-26-10, is to use the photo above to write a flash fiction of 130 to 170 words. As usual, nobody's checking word counts, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're breaking them to earn a which case, see me after class.

As always, if you're planning on joining in the fun, please email me (insatiabear (AT) gmail [DOT] com) or leave a comment here. If you don't let me know you're playing, you might get left off the list of participants when I post it on Friday. And nobody wants that. :)

Here's a button for you if you want to include that in your post. Use it to link back to the challenge post, if you like, or link to the Flash Fiction Friday FAQ if you'd rather do that....or, if you participate late in the day, you can even link it to my Friday story post with the list of participants.

If you've already got a button link on your sidebar, do me a favor and check to make sure it points to the new Flash Fiction Friday FAQ and not to Spanky's now-defunct site. Thanks much.

Check back here on Friday for my take on the challenge and the list of participants, and then again on Monday for the next FFF challenge! 

-- PB

Friday, March 19, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday 3-19-10: "Saw it Coming a Mile Away"


Pain and darkness.

Pain and darkness and chills. Cold sweat running down her skin.

She raised her head weakly and mewled in agony as the motion set her aflame. A thousand barbs stabbed her from a thousand directions. Sobbing softly, trying not to move too much, she opened her eyes, wincing as a spotlight stabbed her anew, and looked down at the source of her torment...

Barbed wire. Splaying her, restricting her. Wrapping her body from head to toe, snaking its steel caress around her fragile limbs, digging in sharply whenever she shifted too much in any direction.

A television on the wall nearby flickered and came to life. A doll's face looked at her, emptily.

“Hello, Susan,” the voice said. “I want to play a game.

“The wire that shrouds you is no less sharp than the self-pity that afflicts you. Night after night you have denied your dark urges, till your misery was so complete you could barely even function. I now give you the chance to redeem yourself.

“The barbs of your restraints dig into you from head to toe, save in one place. The wires across your cunt are thicker, smoother, and barb-free. I want you to use them now. If you can make yourself cum in five minutes, you will be freed. If not, the wires will tighten and cut you to pieces.

“Make your choice, Susan.”

And the television went dead.

Whimpering, Susan did as the voice had directed, feeling a raw, dirty pleasure grow inside her as she rubbed her clit roughly against the restraining wire. Barbs dug deep on her breasts, her thighs, her legs, her arms, blood now trickling down her skin. The shreds of pain only increased the wetness between her legs. Dimly, she realized it would be all too easy to fulfill the voice's requirement.

(Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of 100-300 words. Nobody's checking word counts, but you're only cheating yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're doing it to earn a spanking (in which case, see me after class).

Since I am out of town this week, I don't have a participant list yet, but check back here on Sunday for the next challenge plus a list of all the participants from this week's challenge!

Happy FFF, all.)

-- PB

Monday, March 15, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 3-19-10

After the light-hearted silliness of last week, I thought it was time for something a bit darker. Your challenge for this Friday, 3-19-10, is to use the photo above to write a flash fiction of no less than 100 and no more than 300 words. As usual, nobody's checking word counts, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're breaking them to earn a which case, see me after class.

As always, if you're planning on joining in the fun, please email me (insatiabear (AT) gmail [DOT] com) or leave a comment here. I am out of town this week and will not be around to collect the participant list until after the 19th, but on Monday the 22nd when I post next week's challenge, I'll be providing a list of the participants from Friday the 19th, so you'll get your contribution acknowledged, no fear.

Here's a button for you if you want to include that in your post. Use it to link back to the challenge post, if you like, or link to the Flash Fiction Friday FAQ if you'd rather do that.

Check back here on Friday for my take on the challenge (yes, I've got one written and scheduled), and then again on Monday the 22nd for the list of participants and their contributions, plus the next FFF challenge!

-- PB

Friday, March 12, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday 3-12-10: "Supersexed"

“There,” she said, dropping him with a thud. “This is a good spot. Isolated. Nobody will hear the screaming all the way out here.”

He scrabbled in the dirt, arms and legs still pinioned by bands of force, his eyes mad. Tiny sounds trickled out around the corners of the energy gag in his mouth.

“What? The gag? Oh, I'm sorry,” she said, not sounding it in the least. She flicked her hand absently towards his face and the gag shimmered and dissolved. But the shining bands around his arms and legs remained.

He spoke fast, the words tumbling out. “Come on, Vortexa. It was just a measly little bank heist and nobody got hurt anyway. You can't kill me for something like that.”

Her blonde eyebrows shot up. “Kill? I never said anything about killing you.” She knelt and ran her gauntlet up his thigh to his crotch. Electricity flared and rippled from her fingertips. He was instantly, painfully hard, and moaned in disbelief at the raging lust that swept through him.

“I'm in a lot of trouble here, aren't I?” he whimpered.

“Could be,” she agreed, and reached for his zipper...

(Check out the new FFF FAQ, linked from the button above!

Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of exactly 200 words. Nobody's checking word counts, but you're only cheating yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're doing it to earn a spanking (in which case, see me after class).

The following people are participating this week. Why not go check out their take on this FFF?

Sephani Paige:
Curvaceous Dee:

Check back here on Monday for the next challenge. I will be out of town this week so the story post on Friday the 19th will not have a list of the participants, but the following Monday (the 22nd) I will provide a list of everyone who played along! 

-- PB

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Tell me.......

Tell me what you're thinking. Tell me anything that flashes across the dendrites of that brilliant brain. Tell me this weird idea you had. Tell me about the celebrity you met once. Tell me about your dog. Tell me what you do for a living. Tell me about the trip you went on as a kid. Tell me why you love your favorite movie.

Tell me your hopes. Tell me your wishes. Tell me your urges. Tell me your dirty fantasies, the things you daren't mention to anyone else, your deepest darkest desires that dance delightfully in the depths of your dreams. Tell me why you haven't made those fantasies a reality. Tell me how you're going to fulfill them and when. Tell me that I feature in some of them. Tell me that I'm flattering myself.

Tell me who and what you are -- whither from, where bound, what drives you. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need. Tell me what you must have but fear asking for. Tell me why you fear it. Tell me what else you fear. Tell me what makes you strong and proud and hale. Tell me what makes you weak and whimpering and willowy. Tell me what tears you apart. Tell me what reconstructs you, what makes you soar, what sets your spirit bouncing like a ball in a tight spiraling rebound.

Tell me you love me. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you revile me, want me, can't stand to be me without me, don't ever want to see me again. Tell me you long for my touch, tell me you came five times last night fantasizing about that touch, tell me you came five more times after your dreams of the following night.

Tell me you're mine, now and forevermore. And I'll tell you the same.

-- PB

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

e[Lust] #9

HNT Courtesy of Margaret at They Belong to Us

Welcome to e[lust]
- your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #10? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed
for updates!
~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Start Without Me - It’s for when one of us is too tired, or not in the mood, or out of town, or the other of us is too horny to wait. But now, here, right in front of me, you’re touching yourself, playing yourself, and it is the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

Wicked Tongues - There are so many different ways that a mouth can connect themselves with my cunt. And so many partners, each with their own way of connecting with me.

"Vanilla" Bigotry - I effectively retired my personal usage of the word “vanilla” when one of these sick fucks told me that he hated that term. He said it was condescending, and the implication that kinky people have any idea what goes on in other people’s bedrooms just because they aren’t fucking around in a dungeon was ridiculous.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Audible - More hushed giggles, more kissing sounds. A gasp followed immediately by a quiet, restrained moan. I had to make up the images in my head, try to picture what caused that gasp, who’s mouth was on what body part. Or was it even a mouth?

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Swing Shift Volume 33- We're "Sexually Festive!" - What I do know is that I love Veronica now more than ever, that we choose our extra-marital partners with care and respect, and never fail to remember that our primary relationship is the most important one. If we’re considered sluts or promiscuous by others, so what?

See also: Pleasurists #66 and #67 for all your sex toy review needs.

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

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Babeland Store Dream
Spend an Evening with Madison Young and Help Support the Arts
Partner rape, cryptids, and other crazy myths

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Anal Sex for Beginners
Choosing the right partner in poly relationships
Controlling or Petty?
Dating and Fucking
In response to: Gang Bang Curiosity
Intoxicative Healing
Status Uterus Orgasmus
Therapy - Two Years
The Lost Art of the Hand Job
Time and Punishment: Some dynamics of male chastity in marriage
We Don't Need No Education?
You Make My Tummy Funny

Kink & Fetish

Another Friday Story Time
BDSM -- Abuse and Consent
Creating Space in Kink
I am in trouble
Method: Episode Two
Nightly Spanking
Orgasm Control
Sex And Sadness
The Hands of a Goddess
The Day...
Wake-up call
What About the Children

Erotic Writing

Art Wednesday
Are You Watching Me? (3rd and Final Part)
An Afternoon Delight
Back To My Old Tricks
Climax At Midnight #6
controlling the beast
Group Post: "The Day...."
No Sex: Need Sleep
Pack It Up...Pack It In
Solo Session with B
The Good Kind of Wake-up Call
That Kind Of Girl...Who Gets Off In A Crowded Bar
The Hammer
The Threesome
The Golden Goddess
The Stranger
The realest thing
Wicked Wednesday: Date Night

Monday, March 8, 2010

a journey over landscapes

De Soto
da Gama
Magellan --
surely they could not have felt
the wonder and trepidation
I feel
wandering your landscapes, amazed
by the glory of what I behold.

hair spun auburn silk
eyes of melting blue
tiny arch of nose
and your mouth, oh
your mouth:
it unsettles, it sings, it calls
ruby red, quirked in Cupid's bow
tonguetip caressing underlip
in I-dare-you challenge.

Challenge accepted, offer confirmed --
buttons are popped, catches snapped
and your armorweave protection
from you
puddling, pooling
at your feet

White: so alabaster, so fine, so strong
textured like marble, but so soft, so giving
your flesh yields beneath my touch
and sighs, moans, whispering gasps
announce approbation

Your back arches, your hips sway, your hair curtains your face
that intense gaze, sparing me
from its piercing spike.
Your mouth finds mine.
Your tongue fills my mouth. I kiss a piece of the clean sun.
Your note vibrates along the strings of my psyche,
drawn out and drawn out and drawn out
resonating, amplifying,
shivering through from bones to balls to brain
and making each tingle unbearably.

Your soft hand wraps around me
in benediction.
Your mouth tastes my clear nectar.
Your liquid center accepts me
fired with heat, softness, purpose.
Your secret smile is ages old.

I am unmade, not unmanned, by your intensity.
Not for the first time I wonder
if this is how explorers felt

-- PB

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 3-12-10

Your challenge for this Friday, 3-12-10, is to use the photo above to write a flash fiction of exactly 200 words. As usual, nobody's checking word counts, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're breaking them to earn a which case, see me after class.

As always, if you're planning on joining in the fun, please email me [insatiabear (AT) gmail (DOT) com] or leave a comment here. If you don't let me know you're playing, you might get left off the list of participants when I post it on Friday. And nobody wants that. :)

Here's a button for you if you want to play. Use it to link back to this page, for now. I'm working on a placeholder page on my site which will be a general "about" for FFF, but that's not set up just yet.

Check back here on Friday for a list of participants, and then again on Sunday for the next FFF challenge!

-- PB

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday FAQ!

The Flash Fiction Friday FAQ

So you want to know about Flash Fiction Friday, eh? Maybe somebody sent you a link and curiosity got the better of you. Maybe you saw a FFF post from one of the people who play along each week. Maybe you just stumbled in here during your web-wanderings. Whatever the reason, I'm happy you dropped by!

Flash Fiction Friday was originally the idea of (and hosted by) a fellow who went by the handle of "Spanky". Spanky is AWOL these days (we haven't seen him in months) so since he disappeared, FFF was hosted by many different people. This is my effort to get things organized again.

Q. What is Flash Fiction Friday and why should I bother?
A.  Flash Fiction Friday, or FFF for short, is a weekly blog prompt, or writing exercise, or story time. However you want to look at it, the results are the same. Here's how it works:

At the beginning of each week (usually Monday morning), I choose a photo and post it here on my site and on the Erotic Flash Fiction site, as the weekly Challenge. The Challenge post includes both the photo and the week's word length requirements.

If you like the challenge and decide you want to play along, then you just drop by my site anytime after 12:01 AM on that Friday. I post my own take on the pic at 12:01 AM on Friday, along with a widget that allows you to leave a link to your site (or a direct link to your story) in the body of the post.

So why play along? You get some exercise for your writing muscles, get to look at some cool and interesting photos or artwork, and all the players get more exposure to their blog. Everyone wins!

Q. What's this about word length?
A. Ah, that's where the "Flash Fiction" bit comes in. Each week's challenge has a word length requirement. The requirements vary from week to week depending on how I'm feeling, and could be anywhere from "50 to 250 words" to "exactly 168 words" to "no more than 200 words". Generally they are kept very short, otherwise it wouldn't be flash fiction.

No, I'm not a word count Nazi. This is just for fun. I like to say that if you break the word counts you'll get a spanking, though, and some participants do it just for that reason. :)

Q. Who picks the pics? You? Can I send in this cool photo I found?
A. I choose most of the pictures myself but you're certainly welcome to send one along to me. Leave it in a comment to one of the FFF entries, or email it to me:  insatiabear [AT] gmail (dot) com. If I find it interesting I'll probably use it!

If you're curious about some of the past photos, use the tag-search tool on the right-hand menu here to search my prior FFF entries. All the FFF entries are tagged with "Flash Fiction Friday".

Q. Are there any buttons or graphics to promote this?
A. I'm so glad you asked. Here's a button for you. Many of the participants tend to include it at the end of their FFF posts. Some choose to have the button link to this FAQ page, others link it to that week's challenge post, still others link it to my Friday aggregation post with everyone else's links. Your choice.

If you want the code for the banner, use the following:
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href=""><img border="1" src="" alt="Flash Fiction Friday!" border="1"/></a></div>

Q. I participated this week, but I didn't see my name on the list of participants in your post on Friday! What gives?
A.  I used to gather the list of participants via email or comments each week, but collecting it that way was a tremendous amount of work for me because participants would forget to provide their link, or tell me late on Friday afternoon after I'd already put up my post and the participants list, or get upset with me because I linked to their main page and not directly to their story, or any number of other irritations. I'm now using an automated widget that allows you to leave your own link in the body of my post, so the link will appear however you choose it to.

This does mean, however, that you have to stop by each Friday and leave your link. If you don't, nobody knows you're playing, unless they already happen to follow your site. But part of the fun is getting new readers who might not otherwise know about you, so make sure you stop by each Friday and let everyone know you're participating by leaving your link!

Q. Can I participate if I don't have a blog?
A.  Well, you're welcome to send me your stories by email and I'll read and enjoy 'em, but I don't have the time to post other folks' stories. I just host the challenge and collect links to the blogs of all the participants. Maybe you'll find that you enjoy it enough that you decide to set up your own blog! There are plenty of sites out there that offer free blog tools and services; Blogger and Wordpress seem to be the most popular.

Q. I thought of another question that's not listed here!
A. Good for you! But that's not a question.

Q. Oh. Can I ask you a question that's not listed here?
A. Of course. Just send me an email (insatiabear [AT] gmail (dot) com) or leave a comment on any of my entries here. I read and respond to all comments although on busy days it may be some time before I answer.

-- The

Friday, March 5, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday: Wood Nymph

He had taken it for a tree, and had even wondered why a tree's branches would be cradling a water jug so protectively. So he was shocked right out of his boots when he got a little closer and suddenly it wasn't a tree at all, but a beautiful woman with long brown hair, holding the jug loosely in her arms.

"And who are you?" she asked softly, her voice a soft wind whispering through leaves.

"Your humble servant, milady," he replied, knowing instinctively it was the only reply he dared make.

"Very good," she said. She held up the water jug. "You can come here and water me. I get so parched in these summer months."

Trembling, he approached and took the jug from her, upending it. A torrent of clear, cool water splashed out, onto her upturned face, running through her hair and cascading over her breasts. Her clothing, already insubstantial, melted away as he poured, till she stood gloriously naked before his gaze. Still he poured from hands gone very shaky suddenly, directing the stream over and around her, down sinewy shoulders, over her taut back muscles, across the firm globes of her buttocks. She shifted and sighed pleasurably under the water's stream.

Finally the jug was empty. She stood there, toes buried deeply in the earth, arms stretched high. The water was crystal beads on her nut-brown skin. She turned to regard him, and her arms went around him with a strength he wouldn't have believed.

"Now," she purred, her voice low and pleased, "how can I reward my servant?"

She raised her mouth to his, and his head spun, but his body responded, and his clothes melted away as well, and the two of them entwined there in the glade, sunlight drifting around them, the woodland sounds a soft susurrus of approval. 

(Spanky, the erstwhile host of Flash Fiction Friday, is still AWOL and I'm thinking we aren't going to see him around any more. So I'm hosting Flash Fiction Friday for the immediate future. Your challenge this week was to write up 100-250 words using the above photo. If you're playing this week, email me or leave a comment here to let me know and I'll add you to the list.
The following folks joined in this week. Go check their tales out. 
Check back on Monday for a new photo and a new challenge!)

-- PB

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Welcome Home

On my way home, be there in twenty minutes, he typed, and hit Send. A few seconds later, his phone went queep and displayed her reply: Great! I'll be waiting for you.

She always did wait for him, he thought. Wonderfully patient, remarkably even-tempered, wholly understanding. He really didn't deserve her. But she sure as hell was a nice reward to come home to after a show. He could see her clear as day -- that pixie smile, that saucy wink, that come-hither motion of her fingers. He didn't know what it was that kept her so keyed up as a general rule, but he'd stopped questioning that long ago.

Twenty minutes later he pulled the GT-R into their slot in the underground garage and got out, stretching with a pop and crackle of overtired muscles and sinews. Right-ho. Time for a drink, a bath, dinner, and bed. Not necessarily in that order, he thought with a sardonic grin, twisting the key in the elevator and dropping his duffel bag wearily on the floor.

The elevator bell binged on the sixtieth floor and he emerged into their living room. "Hon?" he called, looking about and failing to find her. "Where're you at?"

"In here," her voice floated back to him, out of the kitchen. "Come and get me."

Well, well. It sounded like she was up to her usual tricks. He sniffed, and caught some wonderfully pungent aromas in the air. Garlic and other indefinable spices danced tantalizingly over his tongue as he tasted the scent experimentally. She must be making spaghetti bolognese. Wait a second, why am I thinking about what she's making for dinner? I want her for dinner.

He strolled amiably into the kitchen and stopped dead as he beheld a vision: she was bent over the counter, stirring a pot on the stove -- that must be the sauce, he thought dimly -- and moving slowly from side to side in time with the music drifting from their iPod dock. Not a stitch of clothing did she wear, save the apron tied round her waist, already spattered with a few splats of sauce. Her ass, which he always found maddeningly desirable at the best of times, practically screamed for him to come up and grab. Her breasts, too, seemed to be reveling in their freedom, hanging low and heavy like wonderfully ripe fruits.

In two steps he'd crossed the kitchen and was upon her, his arms going round her waist and pulling her hard against him. The ladle she held clunked into the pot and she moaned, "Oh yes. Yeah, baby, do you like what you see?" She wiggled back against him and her ass brushed against his groin. "Oooo. I can feel something likes what it sees." She straightened a bit and pulled his hands upward to her tits; he accepted the invitation, squeezing gently and feeling the nipples already hardening against his palms. "All night I've been waiting for you to get home. I've been simmering dinner on the stove; it'll be ready in a little while. But I've been doing some simmering of my own, and I'm ready now."

He could tell she was, too. He kept one hand at work on her breasts, squeezing and caressing, teasing those nipples into hard nubs just perfect for his fingers to tweak and roll. The other hand slipped lower, underneath the apron, down between her legs. She spread them wider, purring happily, as his exploring fingers found her hot and wet slit. He slipped two fingers inside and she shivered against him. She reached one hand back and grabbed one of his belt loops, pulling him against her. He growled low in his throat as his rapidly hardening cock caught in the folds of his boxers, and rubbed his crotch against her ass, his fingers now stroking inside her, soaked in her wetness.

He pulled his dripping fingers free and used them to lube up her nipples for some more twisting and tweaking play; she shuddered and gasped, and threw her head back. He buried his face in that ash-blonde darkness, his hands now fumbling with the button of his fly. "Yeah," he heard her whimper, and heard squelching sounds through the curtain of her hair -- she was very obviously playing with herself now while he struggled to get his cock free.

"Damn, what a slut you are," he growled, mock-sternly, and heard her fingers actually speeding up as she nodded her head frantically. "Oh yeah," she moaned. "Your slut. Do your little slut, baby. Do me now."

"Hate to keep a lady waiting," he agreed, and began rubbing his cock up and down her slit. With every delicious second of friction he could feel her dripping more and more onto him; in seconds his entire length was soaked, looking as if it'd been dipped in honey. Well, he guessed it had, in a manner of speaking. But there was far sweeter honey to be found. He angled, pushed, twisted; she wriggled, pointing her hips back and lifting one leg up, and suddenly he slipped into her. Both of them moaned loudly, he falling forward on her, she rising up beneath him. He bit her shoulder to stifle a scream as her cunt rippled around him. She was more than ready, he could tell -- she was practically there already. He started a hard rhythm, no time for niceties, his cock making wet delicious sounds as he thrust rapidly in and out of her. His hands went around her and began fondling her tits again; he used them as leverage to pull her upright so she was no longer folded over the counter, instead being nearly pressed against him.

"This is what I wanted all night," she moaned, writhing against him, hips thudding back against him, her cunt clenching his cock. Her hands grabbed the lower edge of the cabinet and clung there, bracing her, steadying her. "Missed you so. Fucked myself three times earlier tonight, watching some porn. But it's never good enough. Had to have you."

"Good," he grunted, thrusting hard, one hand sliding lower to her pussy. "Hate to think you'd found a replacement for me after only a day." She emitted an high wordless squeal as he began rubbing rudely at her clit, and she arched her back, pushing her tits harder into his upper hand. "Squeeze them," she moaned, pushing back harder against him. "Finger me. Oh, god, ring my fucking bell and fuck me. Harder, you bastard. Harder!"

He didn't know whether she meant for him to rub her clit harder or to thrust into her harder, so with a growling moan he started doing both. He ground his fingertips over her clit in short, quick circles, continuing to piston his cock in and out of her. His thighs and calves were starting to burn now, his belly and groin starting to smart from the smack smack smack of his body slapping hard against her soft ass -- even with a cushion that soft, things were bound to get a little red at this speed. She didn't seem to care, though, still moaning uncontrollably, pushing herself back against him, her arms trembling now. And he didn't give a damn either -- all of a sudden the only thing that mattered was coming inside her as soon as humanly fucking possible.

"No endurance record this time, my dear," he gasped, and she moaned back, "I don't care, lover. I want that cum and I want it now. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you give me a big load? Ohhh, I bet you can. I bet your balls are just churning right now. Come on, baby. Give me that nice big -- ooooooooooohhhh!!!" She squealed in delight as he began spurting inside her, his hand on her breasts clenching almost painfully tight, his fingers on her clit spasming over her nub in a stuttering rhythm. She ground her hips against him, got a bit more friction, and promptly began to come herself, throwing her head from side to side and moaning almost incoherently "yes.....yes......yes".

He thrust home one last time, almost lifting her off the ground, and then pulled back, down, out of her, leaning forward, resting his weight on her. Both arms tightened around her middle, and hers folded over his.

"God, I love you," he whispered to her. He heard her purr happily. "I love you too, hon," she whispered back.

-- PB

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for March 5th, 2010


Spanky's still AWOL and I'm thinking we aren't going to see him around any more. So I'm hosting Flash Fiction Friday this week. Your challenge: use the photo above and write up a flash fiction from 100-250 words. Mmmmmmm.....spring is almost here. Can't you feel it? I think she can.

Let me know if you're going to play along and I'll link to you when I post on Friday! Now get to work, folks.
-- PB

Monday, March 1, 2010

Panserhistory, part 6: Michelle

Since I started this journal several of you folks have asked me about my past. Who've I been with? you want to know. What was it like, being with them? Did they let you....y' THAT to them? Did they hurt you? Did you hurt them? Did you learn anything from them? Would you do it again, if you had a chance?

So I'm going to write some entries about my history, limited as it is, and let you see for yourself. As always, all names I use here have been changed.

Part 6: Michelle

I was doing some theater work about three times a week when I met Michelle. One of the other players had brought her by one evening because she had been interested in seeing what we did. I noticed her right away -- tiny, cute, blonde mop of hair, bubbly personality, very friendly and approachable. She was the very definition of the word "spunky" in many ways. I spent a while talking to her and decided I was more than passably interested. We all went out for dinner later that evening and I sat near her again for more fun conversation, where she again demonstrated the same likable qualities. She was a lot of fun to be around -- relentlessly cheerful, upbeat, good sense of humor, laughed a lot. I couldn't help noticing that she was also more than a little ditzy and, well, not to put too fine a point on it, not as intelligent as I tend to prefer in the women I'm dating. But she was cute and fun and had a nice, tight little body, which she kept in a constant state of animation. And I kept wondering if that energy would translate into the bedroom. I could tell she wasn't serious relationship material, but I'd tried the serious relationship thing several times already and it hadn't worked so well. Maybe it was time for something casual and fun.

So, even though Michelle was very little like me -- different backgrounds, different interests, almost nothing in common -- I asked her out. She said yes, and I arranged to come by her place and pick her up since she had no car. I had a moment's discomfiture when she said she lived in a trailer park with a pair of friends -- thinking, Do I really want to be seeing a trailer park girl? Have I sunk that low? -- but what the hell, I could roll with the unexpected, right?

Well, maybe. When I picked her up, I was a bit shocked by the condition of the place. The park itself pretty much fit every stereotype of trailer parks: dirty, disorganized, trash lying around, cars up on blocks, stray animals running loose, etc. The trailer she lived in was no better than the others outside, although when she invited me in I found it was a bit neater inside. Only in the general area, though. When she showed me her room, she apologized for it being so messy, but "messy" wasn't the word. It was a wreck. Clothes everywhere, CDs and other possessions flung all over the place, bras hanging on the blinds -- yeah, it was pretty high-class, all right.

I tactfully suggested that we head elsewhere, and we went out for a pretty standard dinner-and-a-movie. And had a lot of fun, actually, although I kept wondering at times what I was really doing. But then I'd look at the way her breasts bounced under her tight shirt, or she would touch me on the arm while making a point, or I'd ogle her ass in the tight jeans she favored, or she'd laugh a go-to-hell laugh that was so endearing. And then I'd reassure myself that I was having fun, so what if she was a lot different from me?

We had several more dates over the next couple of weeks. It got physical pretty quickly. On our third date, she turned 21 and I took her out for drinks, and she practically attacked me in my car on the way back to her place. Only incredible self-control kept me from letting her hop on my cock right there in the parking lot -- she made it pretty clear she wanted just that, but I didn't really like the idea of getting arrested. A few times we made out on her couch, but then we'd have to stop because her roommates would walk in and the guy apparently objected to her having male companions over. God only knows why.

Each time I was out with her, I had fun, but I kept having misgivings -- about her carefree attitude to everything, about her let's-just-have-fun way of dealing with things, about her vastly different background, about her overall wild-child feel. A few times she accused me of being a stick-in-the-mud; I'd never felt like one before, but compared to her, I was. Still, I kept seeing her, and the theater troupe eventually started asking what was going on with me and Michelle. We weren't hiding it, exactly, but the truth was that I felt a bit embarrassed about being out with her sometimes because she really was lower-class than me. That's a shitty thing to say, but we really were radically different.

Still, I was still mostly enjoying it, at least for now, and I was still very curious about whether that body lived up to its promise. So one night I convinced her to come over to my place for the evening. We watched a movie and she eventually snuggled up on my chest and fell asleep there. I woke her up and gently suggested that we move to the bedroom, and she didn't seem to mind that idea at all.

There was no blushing or uncertainty about her. She was totally matter-of-fact about the whole thing, pulling off her top and skimming out of her tight jeans like it was absolutely nothing. There was no mystery to it, no teasing -- one minute she was dressed and the next her clothes were lying on the floor in a heap. Her breasts were small and pert and had bright pink nipples, already hard and pointing at me. Her pussy wasn't shaved, but was trimmed very very short. She waggled her ass at me and lay down on my bed, and said, "Well?" I was a bit nonplused about her carefree, detached attitude, but got my own clothes off as well, and started in with the kisses and licks and caresses that had served me so well with the other women I'd been with.

And that's where the problems started. See, it turned out that she was absolutely hypersensitive to being touched. I couldn't caress her breasts, or kiss them, or suck on her nipples, without her screeching and writhing away from me in giggles. Same went for her thighs, her back, her neck, her ears -- all the zones I loved to attack, and had been weak points in the women I'd been with. Each time I tried it, anywhere I tried it, hands or lips or tongue, she would shriek and twitch and start giggling, which (after being repeated several times) is a hell of a mood killer.

Oh, she was eager enough. I could smell her arousal from almost the second she got her jeans off. She didn't mind fondling and caressing me, and she played with my cock like an expert. She liked being kissed, and hard. Her tongue was in my mouth from almost the first kiss. She liked to be bitten on the throat, or on the shoulders, and hard. But any light touches -- and I love light touching and lots of caresses and foreplay -- were right out. And she let me go down on her but it was obviously not her thing. I kept asking how she liked it but she wouldn't give me any feedback, only more giggles. After about five or ten minutes of near dead silence from her while I tried every trick I knew with mouth and tongue and fingers, she finally giggled and said "Look, why don't you just get a condom and fuck me already?"

More than a little off-putting, right? It got worse. I dutifully put on a condom and slid into her, starting off slow and grinding. But she was almost totally silent. She wrapped her arms around me and her legs too, and would make a few soft gasps, but I absolutely could not tell whether or not she was enjoying it at all. I kept asking her if that felt good, or if she wanted it harder or deeper, or faster, or slower....or anything. Each time she'd just giggle at me (I was starting to hate that giggle), or reply in just one or two words, or not answer at all. Finally I figured out that she liked it when I pounded her really really hard -- that finally got her gasping and moaning, digging at my back, calling out. Both of us started making more noise and it looked like the night was going to be kind of fun after all. The headboard started thumping against the wall and the bed began moving slowly across the hardwood floors of my apartment as we got more enthusiastic.

And right then the people in the apartment below me started banging on the ceiling and shouting to hurry it up and finish already, it was past midnight.

That was pretty much the last straw. Michelle and I looked at each other, frozen, and then we both started laughing helplessly. My cock wilted a bit, but with a bit of encouragement I managed to get hard enough again to at least finish up. I still don't know whether Michelle came from our fucking or not, and she wouldn't let me finger her or give her any oral, so that was out too. Soon she was asleep, sprawling across most of the bed and taking most of the covers. I got up and padded to the bathroom, wondering what the hell had just happened, and what the fuck I was doing with this girl. I shook my head, then went back to bed and curled up next to Michelle. Sleep was a long time coming.

Next morning Michelle showed absolutely no discomfort or awkwardness at being nude in my bed on The Day After. Ruefully, I decided she'd probably done this sort of thing lots of times before. No discomfort or awkwardness, no, but neither did she seem to have any interest in another round. She woke up after I did and immediately started getting dressed. It was only later that I realized she had maybe decided the previous night was a mistake too.

I took her out to breakfast -- it's only polite after a one-night stand, I had heard -- and then ran her home. I kissed her goodnight and she told me to call her, but I think we both knew I wasn't going to do anything of the sort. She went on into the trailer without a backward glance, her ass still swinging quite nicely in those tight jeans.

I shook my head and got out of there. I did see Michelle a few more times, but only at the theater, and usually in the company of some guy. A different one each time, I noted. About two months later she stopped hanging out at the theater with us; about a month later, somebody told me that she was pregnant. A year after that, I heard she was pregnant for the second time, by another father, still unmarried, and dating an honest-to-God monster-truck driver. You dodged a bullet there, old son, I thought to myself, not very charitably, when I heard how she had ended up.

I didn't get much out of my brief time with Michelle other than my first one-night stand. I did get one belief turned on its head, though. Used to be that I thought that even bad sex was better than no sex at all. Wrongo. I realized even halfway through that night that I wasn't having any fun, and by the next morning I was full-on into good LORD that was a bad fucking idea territory. So bad sex is not better than no sex at all. This also kind of turned me off the whole "casual sex" thing for a while, although seeing how well it works for so many of you, I'm readjusting my beliefs back in the other direction now. As long as it's with a decent partner!

Anyhow, thanks for a wild couple of weeks, Michelle. It was......interesting.

-- PB