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Monday, August 30, 2010

Monday, August 23, 2010

No Flash Fiction Friday this week

No Flash Fiction Friday this week, folks. This is going to be a horribly busy week for me and I simply won't have the time. Feel free to make your own FFF with any pic you choose!

-- PB

Friday, August 20, 2010

Monday, August 16, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 8-20-10

(Photo/artwork provided by Charles; artist and source unknown)

Your challenge for this Friday, 8-20-10, is to use the photo above to write a flash fiction of 87-137 words. Since everyone seems to be enjoying the required phrases, please use this phrase in your submission:

"...their eyes were somehow accusing..."

As usual, nobody's checking word counts, or the key phrase, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're breaking them to earn a spanking....in which case, see me after class.

The usual reminders apply: if you're planning on joining in the fun, please email me (insatiabear (AT) gmail [DOT] com) or leave a comment here. And please, for the love of all that's holy, include a website address if you email me, or if your commenting profile doesn't have a link to your page. It makes things a whole hell of a lot easier for me, which I'm sure you all want to do. :) If you don't let me know you're playing, or don't tell me where you can be found, I'll have to leave you 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. That Flash Fiction Friday FAQ is also the link you should visit if you're new to the whole FFF thing and have questions. I want everybody to enjoy this, after all.


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! And as always, if you have any photos or artwork you'd like to see used in an upcoming week, send them my way. This week's photo was provided by Charles.


 -- PB

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Group Post: "Trust Me"

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing!"

"Oh, God, don't say that," she groused, chafing irritably, trying to find a comfortable position. The chain clinked, and she stifled a cry of annoyance. "Sledge Hammer used to say that. Remember? That 80s TV show?"

He looked puzzled, then his face lit up. "Oh yeah!" He went back to wrapping the rope around her wrists. "He had this weird relationship going with his Magnum, and he shot first and asked questions never?" He grinned, pulling the rope tighter, fumbling for a way to tie it off. "And that was his catch phrase, yeah! Trust me, I know what I'm doing!" He shook his head. "Man, I haven't thought about that show in years." Now he was fiddling with the nipple clamps, looking a bit lost.

She sighed. "Maybe it worked for Sledge, but when he said it, you actually believed him." She reconsidered. "Well, some of the time, anyway." She shifted again, her back throbbing. "Ow," she muttered.

"What, are you saying you don't believe me?"

She gave him a very direct look. "C'mon, babe. You damn near pulled my shoulders out of their sockets first. Then you sat on my hair and almost ripped some of it out when you moved me to a new position. Then you 'slipped' and chose the wrong hole when you inserted the vibrator. Now you're cutting off my circulation because you tied the damn rope too tight." She motioned with the tip of her nose, it being the only part of her that could actually point at the moment. "And those there are supposed to go on my nipples, not my toes."

He looked so much like a puppy that had been kicked that she thought briefly about taking it all back. Then her back muscles screamed at her again to come to her senses, and she rallied. "Just let me loose and I'll give you a blowjob that'll make you come buckets. Hm? Whaddya say?"

Indecision warred with relief in his eyes. "Well, I don't know," he temporized. "You've been such a naughty girl, after all." His cock was already beginning to twitch, though.

God save and protect us, she thought, keeping from rolling her eyes with a mighty effort. "Come on, sugar," she cooed, using the little-girl voice she knew he loved. "Let baby give you what she wants."

"Well.....okay," he said hastily, cutting through the ropes with unseemly haste, removing the misapplied clamps, pulling the vibrator free and removing the choke chain around her neck. He lay down on the bed eagerly, already pulsing and hard. She stretched lazily, relishing the feel of restored circulation, then slid slowly up the bed towards him like a stalking cat. He's a geek, she thought, but he's my geek.

She took him deep with one swallow and he moaned loudly enough to crack a window. "God, I didn't know you could do that!" he gasped raggedly.

She slid him out of her mouth, drooling saliva everywhere, knowing he loved that. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing," she purred.

The Group Post is the brainchild of Kimberly, the Errant Wife. Why not see how these other fine folks handled the theme of "Trust Me"? They're all talented folks, worth a read.


Veronica:  http://anothersuburbanmom.blogspot.com
Aurore:  http://dangerousliaisons-aurore.blogspot.com
they belong to us:  http://theybelongtous.wordpress.com
bdenied:  http://cuckold-husband-bdenied.blogspot.com
The Duchess:  http://theduchessissexy.blogspot.com
Ronjazz:  http://ronjazz.blogspot.com
Kink Chronicles:  http://thekinkchronicles.blogspot.com
Topaz:  http://topaz-gemology.blogspot.com
Gray:  http://mygrayline.blogspot.com
Advizor:  http://advizortoall.blogspot.com
And finally, our host Kimberly:
Kimberly:  http://yourerrantwife.blogspot.com



Thanks as always to Kimberly for hosting!)


-- PB

Friday, August 13, 2010

Thursday, August 12, 2010

"....is Hard to Do"

She'd been fighting it for some time but now her control broke. Tears welled up and overspilled, sliding shimmering trails down her cheeks. A lump formed in his throat as he watched but he willed himself not to go to her.

"It has to be," he forced out, his voice raw. "We've been ripping each other to shreds for months now. I loved you once, and I think I still do, but I have had enough, now and forever, amen."

Her head came up, her jaw tightening. A hint of the old imperiousness flashed in one of her glittering green eyes. "You've had enough?" she said dangerously. "You've had enough?"

She stalked angrily around him, a painter sizing up her subject, a panther sizing up its next meal. "What if I haven't had enough?"

He turned in place, facing her as she circled. "Goddamn it. This is just what I'm talking about -- you won't, or can't, see reality when it's right in front of your fucking face. I am so sick of battling with you over every little thing. So damned......tired."

A spark of humor flashed. "You ought to be, after a night like last night."

"Not what I meant and you know it. I'm not going to deny that it's been fun in bed..."

"And out of bed, and on the stairs, and over the couch, and on the kitchen counter," she singsonged, grinning despite the tears that still trickled down her cheeks.

"Shut UP!" His roar was a cannonblast in the small room. "For chrissake, do you think this is easy for me? Or fun?"

"........No," she finally said, her voice tiny drops of water emerging reluctantly from a faucet.

He nodded grimly. "Then you understand what I'm saying."

"Yes."

"And you know why this has to end before one of us ends up dead."

The silence stretched, became humid, thickening palpably. His gaze held her, like a pin in a wriggling butterfly. She squirmed in agony but he wouldn't, couldn't, release her.

"...........yes," she admitted at last. "But damn you for being so.....so intangible. I never really had you, did I? Even when my claws were sunk deep in your back, I was never really touching you. Never really touched you." The tears began flowing again.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were raw and red as well. "Don't believe it for a minute," he said heavily. "Your hooks are still set deep. I don't know if I'll ever get them out."

She came to him, and this time he didn't pull away. He crushed her against him, meeting her mouth with a savage kiss. She drove him back against the wall, hard. Pictures crashed to the floor. He drank from her mouth, lips and tongue plundering her, being seared in the heat that had burned him so many times. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut against the tears that still trickled free. He reached up with a thumb to capture one, and slipped it into his mouth to taste her pain, forcing himself, scourging himself, still kissing and kissing and kissing her.

Her hands went to his belt. Leather whipped free, was flung aside. The button popped off as she tore his fly open. She darted a hand inside, slid it beneath his boxers; he groaned as her fingers found his cock, pillow-soft at first but rapidly changing in her grasp. His own hands pulled her T-shirt up and over her head (she muttered angrily as it caught beneath her chin), then she was pressing against him again, the maddening weight of her breasts setting his blood afire.

He reached up and tweaked one nipple, hard. She shrieked and promptly bit his shoulder, just as hard. Blood trickled as she released him. Another battle scar, he thought hazily, and then he was very busy moaning as she pulled his boxers down to his ankles and began massaging his cock with deft, sure strokes. Squeezing him upward, pointing him skyward, getting him painfully hard in a matter of seconds, she smiled sadly at him, then shimmied out of her shorts and panties and swarmed up his body. He pulled one leg upward and felt her slide it round to rest on his ass; he hiked her up a bit more, his hands going to her ass, lifting then dropping her, spearing up and in.

They both bowed their heads, even as he began pistoning in and out. Their breath came fast but no words were spoken. There was only the dark, silent haze that rose and enveloped both of them time after time. She ripped strips from his back over and over; he left bitemarks from her breasts to her earlobes, each nip stabbing her all the way to the heart. Crying, she rode him harder. Weeping, he drove her harder, fingers digging into her shoulders, mouth rasping against hers, stubble tearing the soft skin of her lips. He could feel her heat scorching him. He could feel his savage thrusts bruising her.

The storm built and built. They savaged each other with words, with gestures, with everything they had. They fought this last battle right down to the bitter ending, her finishing cry a tearing howl, as if she'd been gutshot. Bare seconds later he screamed as well as he gushed inside her, feeling a part of himself leaching away with every spurt, powerless to prevent it, hopeless to describe it. She bounced and bucked and jerked against him as she came and came, hammering elbows on his shoulders, leaving fresh bruises. He retaliated, spearing her with the last of his fading strength, wishing it would be enough, knowing in his heart it never would be.

When he began softening and slipping from her she was forced to drop to the floor, stepping away from him. He watched as she pulled her clothes on, grimacing as overstretched muscles rebelled. He knew the feeling, he thought ruefully as he dressed in silence, feeling the ache that always swept through him after they'd been at each other. The ache that seared, the ache that destroyed.

The lingering ache that would always be with him. He watched as she clacked swiftly across the room to the door. The words rose unbidden to his lips, an entreaty, a surrender, a plea -- but his throat locked and the words died. And the door opened, and she flung one last tearful glance his way, and sketched a kind of salute. He raised a hand in response, feeling absurdly inadequate, feeling the hot bile rise in his throat, feeling the self-hatred surge, knowing this was all they could do, all they had left.

And then she was gone.

-- PB

Monday, August 9, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 8-13-10

(Image source: "Red at Night" by Carter Vaughn)

Your challenge for this Friday, 8-13-10, is to use the photo above to write a flash fiction of 80-120 words. Since everyone seems to be enjoying the required phrases, please use this phrase in your submission:

"...her body glowed in the wash of crimson light..."

As usual, nobody's checking word counts, or the key phrase, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're breaking them to earn a spanking....in which case, see me after class.

The usual reminders apply: if you're planning on joining in the fun, please email me (insatiabear (AT) gmail [DOT] com) or leave a comment here. And please, for the love of all that's holy, include a website address if you email me, or if your commenting profile doesn't have a link to your page. It makes things a whole hell of a lot easier for me, which I'm sure you all want to do. :) If you don't let me know you're playing, or don't tell me where you can be found, I'll have to leave you 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. That Flash Fiction Friday FAQ is also the link you should visit if you're new to the whole FFF thing and have questions. I want everybody to enjoy this, after all.


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! And as always, if you have any photos or artwork you'd like to see used in an upcoming week, send them my way.

 -- PB

Friday, August 6, 2010

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Congratulations, California

I'm really a bit surprised this morning that the sex blogging world isn't more excited about this. If you don't know already, yesterday California district court Judge Vaughn Walker overturned the ridiculous and discriminatory California Proposition 8, on the basis that it was....well, ridiculous and discriminatory.

Okay, okay, so maybe he didn't say "ridiculous". But he did say discriminatory -- here, why don't I just let the Judge speak for himself. Here's what he wrote in his opinion:

"Proposition 8 fails to advance any rational basis in singling out gay men and lesbians for denial of a marriage license. Indeed, the evidence shows Proposition 8 does nothing more than enshrine in the California Constitution the notion that opposite-sex couples are superior to same-sex couples."

I remember watching the November 2008 elections avidly, talking with friends via instant message and phone, watching the balance of the election tip slowly in the direction of hope and change, feeling proud that our country was taking a step to reclaiming the freedoms we'd had so curtailed during the years of the Bush administration. I remember thinking it was a good time to be an American, and that maybe things were going to work out pretty well after all.

And then California went and disappointed the hell out of me by passing Proposition 8, maybe not by a landslide, but by a comfortable margin.

I was utterly shocked. If there was any state in the 50 that embraced diversity, that stood as a shining example of the "melting pot" mentality, that didn't bat an eyelash at weirdness and the unconventional, California had to be it. Wasn't that right? They couldn't really be serious, could they? There was a lost sack of "get rid of this miserable excuse for a law" ballots somewhere and it just hadn't been brought in yet, right?

Apparently not. I have rarely been so dismayed and upset as I was when the Californians stood up as a state for discrimination and fear. I might have expected something like that from Bible Belt states like Alabama or Mississippi or Texas, but California? C'mon, people, you should know better.

Now under the terms of full disclosure I should remark that I've been as straight as an arrow most of my life (swinging a bit more towards the "bi" area in recent years...but I digress). The law doesn't affect me one whit, but I don't give a damn about that. I am a firm believer that the more we single people out as being different -- for their religion, for their skin color, for their sexual practices, for their personal proclivities of ANY kind -- the farther away we get from true unity.

We are well into the twenty-first century here. It's long past time that we got rid of antiquated notions, such as that of marriage being "only between a man and a woman". There was once a notion that cigarettes were good for pregnant women, too -- remember the slogan "Reach for a Lucky instead of a sweet"? -- but that shit went by the wayside pretty quickly when the lung cancer rates started shooting up, didn't it?

Astonishingly, California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger appears to be mellowing out a bit; even though he was one of the defendants named in the lawsuit, he released a statement that he "respects" the decision and "would not support an amendment to the constitution that would overturn" it. He also remarked that "[f]or the hundreds of thousands of Californians in gay and lesbian households who are managing their day-to-day lives, this decision affirms the full legal protections and safeguards I believe everyone deserves." Bravo, Ah-nuld! Even if you have previously vetoed two bills in favor of gay marriage, this is at least a step in the right direction. 

There's an endless cycle of appeals and counter-appeals and legal briefs and rulings ahead for Proposition 8. It's no doubt going to wind up at the Supreme Court, and given the Court's generally conservative nature, it may be re-overturned there....but at least for today, I can dream for a bit about true equality.

But it's only a small step. Same-sex couples are only legally able to marry in six lousy states: Massachusetts, Iowa, Connecticut, Vermont, New Hampshire and Washington DC. Why don't you get with the program, the rest of you, eh?

True love doesn't know from boundaries. It's color blind. It disregards orientation. It breaks through religious and cultural and political barriers. It finds a way....and while the gay and lesbian couples in California have been "finding a way" while Prop 8 was on the books, finding alternatives in civil union ceremonies or clandestine marriages that are nevertheless unrecognized by the state, I'm delighted to see a blow struck on the side of right this time. If you're an adult and making your own decisions, you should have the right to have sex with -- and marry -- whoever you damned well please. That is my firm belief.

-- PB

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

e[Lust] #18

(First time participating in eLust in quite some time...and I get one of the top three posts! I guess I need to get back to it more often. For those who're stopping by because of that, welcome!)




HNT Courtesy of Barefoot Dreamer - Photo by Jon H.

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] #19? Start with the rules, check out the schedule and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Off Limits for 30 Days - "You don't listen very well," I heard her hiss. "That's off limits, damn you." And there was a crack and fiery agony clawed into my back.

The Joy of Sucking Cock - I wonder at times if that is why I am such a “good little cocksucker” as W calls me. When I am deeply into it, I almost enter this place where I am both the sucker and suckee, and it is as though it is MY cock being sucked on.

This intensity gets me riled when I am tied up (photo story) - James picked up that evil strap again. I watched helplessly as he positioned himself to use it on my pussy... Ever so lightly he started. Flick, flick, flick.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Ask Lilly: How do I know if a sex toy has phthalates in it? - The studies going around are saying that phthalate exposure can damage all sorts of organs, and can possibly cause cancer. There are a lot of harmful things in our world these days that we can't avoid - so when we CAN avoid something like toxins in our sex toys, we should.

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Portal. Confession #493 - It truly is a spiritual give and take, these sexual relationships I form. I can cross the threshold and see however much of someone that I choose to see, with whomever it is that I am involved with.

See also: Pleasurists #88 and #89 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

Defying Gravity with Carrie Moon
Interview with Dylan Ryan
Is "The Smoking Jacket" a Smoking Gun?
Naked and Famous
That's discrimination! -or- Two Words I'm Sick of Hearing
Very Deserved Wrath- Not So New Problems

Kink & Fetish

10 Things I Love About My Slave
A Rope Pride Flag?
At Last
Correlations
dutch part 6 - the finale!
Discovering DebPorn
Independence Day
Kinkster Me
No Mosquito Fetish Here
Our First Play Time - Part 1
Please
Post Exploratorium HNT
Sex and Kink
Subspace
Thoughts on Single Tailing
THIS is what happens to naughty little redheaded sluts…

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

A Declaration of Independence -- From the eXes
Ass to Mouth
Bi The Way - Male Bisexuality and Swinging
Don't Beat Yourself Up
Euphemisms
Flying The Red Flag
Natural Born Swingers
Partnerships
Transtastic: On Coming Out as a Political Act
The Ins & Outs of Anal Sex
The Cialis Effect
Unusually High Sex Drive
Where is My G Spot?
Why Won’t Anyone Respond? — Help for Your Swinger Inbox

Erotic Writing

Adventures in Fisting
A Collision of Desires
boo full
Creature of habit pt. 3
Flashback: Our First Time
Fred
Fantasy: Australia Day
Good Morning
Get Down, Dirty & Get The Hell Out
I want...
Licked to orgasm
Sweat & Summer
Sparkly Vamp Erotica
The Ordeal (part one)
Upstairs. Now.
Wrestle

Monday, August 2, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 8-6-10


Your challenge for this Friday, 8-6-10, is to use the photo above to write a flash fiction of 134-184 words. Since everyone seems to be enjoying the required phrases, please use this phrase in your submission:

"...drifting, floating, crashing to earth..."

As usual, nobody's checking word counts, or the key phrase, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're breaking them to earn a spanking....in which case, see me after class.

The usual reminders apply: if you're planning on joining in the fun, please email me (insatiabear (AT) gmail [DOT] com) or leave a comment here. And please, for the love of all that's holy, include a website address if you email me, or if your commenting profile doesn't have a link to your page. It makes things a whole hell of a lot easier for me, which I'm sure you all want to do. :) If you don't let me know you're playing, or don't tell me where you can be found, I'll have to leave you 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. That Flash Fiction Friday FAQ is also the link you should visit if you're new to the whole FFF thing and have questions. I want everybody to enjoy this, after all.


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! And as always, if you have any photos or artwork you'd like to see used in an upcoming week, send them my way.

 -- PB