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Wednesday, December 26, 2012

The Nutcracker Sweet

"C'mon, hon, we're going to be late," he called.

"Just a minute longer, love.....there! Okay, I'm ready." She emerged from the bathroom, posing artfully before his admiring gaze.

She'd been worth the wait. Stunning and statuesque in that emerald green dress, diamond necklace glittering on her low cleavage like a spray of snowfall, raven hair piled high, pinned up with tendrils trailing artfully down her shoulders. She looked like a Greek goddess. His mouth watered so hard it hurt.

He growled and reached for her, almost involuntarily, and she stopped him with one finger. "Ah-ah! Late, remember. Come on, I don't want to miss the performance."

He swallowed hard and followed her out the door, carefully adjusting himself to avoid embarrassment in public.

**********************

Near darkness and silence, but for the small coughs and shifting in seats that accompanies any live performance. He sat calmly, pulse pounding, not only in anticipation of the curtain's rising but also in appreciation of her electric presence, bare inches away. Twenty years together and she still affected him like a schoolboy.

Her fingers trailed lightly across the cuff of his tuxedo, brushing against the hairs on his wrist. He felt them rise in response. He couldn't see her face for the darkness, but knew she was smiling.

And then: the orchestra began. Lightly, quickly, flitting through the opening notes of the "Overture". The curtain rose, revealing the stage: the Silberhaus home, brilliantly lit by candles in preparation for the family's Christmas party. The maid entered, with a tray of drinks, twirling gently to the music. He breathed in, breathed deep, felt his heart expand. How he loved this performance. He glanced at her, face now visible in reflected stagelight, and saw her lips parting in wonder and pleasure at the unfolding scene.

How he loved her!

Onstage, the festivities continued, urged onward by the orchestra. As ever, he beat time silently against his thigh with the "Children's Gallop and Dance of the Parents", grinned at the dramatic arrival of Drosselmeyer, and felt a lump in his throat as the Christmas tree burst into brilliance, candles twinkling, heralding the arrival of the holiday.
And then he felt her hand on his thigh. That was new.

He glanced at her in surprise and she speared him with a look, nodding towards the stage. "Keep your eyes where they belong," that look said. He obeyed, but now his attention was less on the intricate choreography and Tchaikovsky's musical strains than on the warmth of her touch as she caressed him, her fingers raising his temperature by twenty degrees instantly.

And raising other things, too. Of course her hand was working its way upward, and of course it eventually encountered the inevitable: a ridge in his slacks. He heard her murmur softly, "Naughty, naughty!" and then he twitched violently as she squeezed it quite firmly. He looked around furtively but their box seats meant privacy; no one else's attention was on anything but the stage.

He couldn't say the same himself. He gulped as her fingers squeezed him again, gently this time, molding themselves along the length of his hardness, pressing slowly, releasing, massaging him insistently, stoking the flames higher. He couldn't help stealing a glance at her again, and this time she met his gaze with a gleeful grin of her own. Mischief sparkled in those eyes, and he was reminded yet again that she was always capable of absolutely anything.

Her hand now stole higher and found his zipper. The orchestra's strains rose higher as the Rat King's armies did battle with those of the Nutcracker Prince; they covered the slight purring sound the zipper made (or was it she that made that purr?) as she drew it down. Slowly, so slowly, her fingers slipped inside. Slowly, so slowly, she slid her hand further and further into the widening gap. Slowly, so slowly, she wrapped her fingers around his length, squeezing firmly, keeping him good and hard.

She seemed to reach another decision then, and pulled her hand free, but not completely -- as she drew it out, she pulled his cock along with it, leaving him sitting there with his shaft sticking out of his slacks for anyone to see. He gave thanks yet again for the privacy of their box seats and for the darkened theater, and then was startled anew when she took his hand and guided it to her own thigh.

Well, now. Time for a little payback. He slid his hand experimentally higher, delighting -- as always -- in the velvety feel of her skin, the little shivers she made as he touched her, the soft "ahh" she emitted. Slid it higher still, wrestling a bit with the dress as it bunched up, but refusing to be deterred by a bit of cloth.

Meanwhile, she had gone back to work on him, her hand impatiently pulling his cock out even further. Now she encircled him with thumb and forefinger and began a maddeningly slow rhythm, squeezing him tightly as she reached the base, then milking him upward, forcing more and more blood into his already painfully hard cock. Soon he was throbbing so hard that his cock twitched with every thump of his heart.

She kept up her slow rhythm. By now she'd abandoned all pretense of interest in the ballet, and was concentrating solely on driving him mad, or so it seemed. She leaned over a bit, as if reaching for something she'd dropped on the floor, but shifted in her seat to give him freer access below her dress. In that instant his exploring fingers encountered heat and wetness far beyond what he'd been expecting. She was bare under that dress. Incredulously, he pushed a bit further, and his index finger sank into her with no effort at all; in a trice his entire palm was soaked. She moaned softly and shifted again, her pussy clamping down tightly on his digit, and leaned downward a bit more. Apparently retaliating, she opened her mouth and without fuss or fanfare slid his cock all the way down her throat until her lips were actually inside the slit of his zipper.

He grunted as she hummed quietly to herself along with the music. Onstage, the Nutcracker Prince danced for Clara, leaping and spinning. Here, it was his brain that was spinning, as she began to bob her head slowly up and down, drooling saliva all over his slacks, ramping the friction on his tortured cock up and up and up. Her throat clutched at him, milked him; her lips and tongue shaped his trembling. He stroked his fingers deeper into her, found her clit, tweaked it viciously, slid his palm all over her slick cleft. She gurgled a moan of delight and slid her hips forward to meet his invasion; he bucked his own hips upward involuntarily as she sucked particularly hard on his shaft. He tingled, his blood boiled, his balls churned. She trembled, spasmed, shivered in pleasure.

The music built and built. The Waltz of the Snowflakes spun out its tableau onstage. He gasped as he pulled her upward and off his shaft. "No," he breathed raggedly. "Damned if I'm going to blast off down your throat." She nodded, hair coming loose from its pinnings, stray wisps straggling across her face, and panted, "Yeah, yeah, c'mon baby, do me" as she wriggled into his lap, rucking her dress up even further. He heard it rip as she spread her legs and had time to mourn yet another dress's demise before she was fumbling between the two of them, yanking him around and pointing him the right direction for her. He threw back his head, forgetting about propriety now, no longer caring who saw, his hands sliding up her chest, grabbing double handfuls of her tits and squeezing through the dress. She swore under her breath and wriggled some more, raising up, then sank down hard, gushing out onto his slacks as he speared up and into her.

They paused for a heartstopping instant, then began moving together, his hands on her hips, lifting her, dropping her. He bent his head forward and licked at her throat, tasting the sweat trickling down her neck, smelling her jasmine perfume mixed with the now very evident scent they were both creating. They clutched at each other, gasping harder now, bucking deeper into the throes of ecstasy. The orchestra built towards crescendo as Act I neared its conclusion, and as one they increased their efforts, spiraling higher, straining and moaning, hoping to finish before the house lights came up for intermission, but in reality not caring a whit for what might happen if they didn't. 


A Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. I intend to return in the new year with more regular entries, and thanks to everyone who's written me urging me to come back.

 -- PB

Friday, May 25, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday 5-25-12: "Auto-Eroticism"

(Source image: "Hillary" by Bradley Thurber)



The rain was slashing sheets across the windows of my Chevy. The engine ticked, cooling. Jazz played softly on the radio, the players noodling around, no particular destination in mind. The scent of the leather seats was strong.

"So," she said, looking at me calmly. "How long's it going to be?"

"Before what?"

"Before you make your move, you adorable idiot. You knew we wouldn't see anything up here, not with it raining like this."

"Um. Well, I....."

"Oh, shut up." She leaned towards me...and kept leaning, down into my lap. Her fingers worked quickly at my zipper and in a twinkling, she had me in her mouth. I groaned, and my hands wound into her glossy black hair.

She looked up and grinned at me, letting me slip free. "That's better," she breathed.



Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of 100-135 words. Additionally, I provided a key phrase I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:

"...the scent of [noun]..."

Nobody's checking word counts, or for the key phrase, 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).

Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:

I've always wanted to have sex in a car, but none of my partners has ever been interested. Maybe some day. I looked at the gamin grin on this girl's face, and the rest of the scenario fell into place effortlessly: a rainy night, parked on a secluded embankment high above the city, soft jazz on the radio, and some steamed-up windows. Mmmmm. Delicious...particularly if your partner happens to be as bold as this one appears to be. Please, no references to "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights".

If you are playing along this week, please leave your link below using the widget. It will appear in the text of the post itself, not in the comments, so everyone that's playing will be listed here. This frees me from having to chase people down to find out if they're playing or update the Friday post several times for late entries. Your cooperation is appreciated.

In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.



Check back here on Monday for the next challenge! And if you have any photos or artwork you'd like to see in a future challenge, please send them my way. 

-- PB

Monday, May 21, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 5-25-12

(Source image: "Hillary" by Bradley Thurber)

Your challenge for this Friday, 5-25-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of 100-135 words. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:

"...the scent of [noun]..."

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.

My take on this pic will go up by 12:01 AM on Friday morning. If you are participating this week (and the more the merrier -- tell all your friends. Enemies, too, if you like), simply stop by any time after that and leave your link using the widget in the body of the post. Then everybody will know you're playing along and they'll come leave nice comments on your entry. Everyone wins!

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. Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/, or to the FAQ. 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 the list of participants as well as my own take, 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, May 18, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday 5-18-12: "Damn the Consequences"

(Image source: "On the Stairs" by Samantha Wolov)

She was writhing, moaning, underneath me. Her skin was superheated, the lace on her bra cups rough and scratchy against my chest. Her lips were hungry, her restless hands everywhere on my body. She yanked at my jeans; I tore her underwear aside, fumbling, desperate. My fingers sank deep into her with one exploratory push, immediately soaked. She gasped and cooed against my neck, wrapping her hand around me, squeezing, tugging me closer.

I slid deep with one effortless thrust and she wrapped her legs around me. The red haze descended and I started pounding away at her, her shrieks and yelps already rising up the scale.

“Take me upstairs,” she'd said. We hadn't even made it halfway.



Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of 68-122 words. Additionally, I provided a key phrase I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:

"...rough and scratchy..."

Nobody's checking word counts, or for the key phrase, 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).

Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:

Some of the best sex I've ever had in my life has been when my partner and I just couldn't wait to have each other. Standing against the wall, bent over a couch, just inside the front door or (as in one particularly memorable occasion) halfway up the stairs. Not a fantasy, this one, but drawn from life. It was fucking incredible (or perhaps I should say incredible fucking).

If you are playing along this week, please leave your link below using the widget. It will appear in the text of the post itself, not in the comments, so everyone that's playing will be listed here. This frees me from having to chase people down to find out if they're playing or update the Friday post several times for late entries. Your cooperation is appreciated.

In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.



Check back here on Monday for the next challenge! And if you have any photos or artwork you'd like to see in a future challenge, please send them my way. 

-- PB

Monday, May 14, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 5-18-12

(Image source: "On the Stairs" by Samantha Wolov)

Your challenge for this Friday, 5-18-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of 68-122 words. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:

"...rough and scratchy..."

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.

My take on this pic will go up by 12:01 AM on Friday morning. If you are participating this week (and the more the merrier -- tell all your friends. Enemies, too, if you like), simply stop by any time after that and leave your link using the widget in the body of the post. Then everybody will know you're playing along and they'll come leave nice comments on your entry. Everyone wins!

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. Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/, or to the FAQ. 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 the list of participants as well as my own take, 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, May 11, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday 5-11-12: "Foreign Affairs"

(Source image unknown; provided some time ago by the lovely Lexi)

Summer in a strange country, wandering the streets, penniless, lost and dejected. I strolled aimlessly, not knowing what I sought.

It certainly hadn't been this. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin; a hint of mischief in the crescent whiteness of her smile. She crooked her finger at me and I followed, helpless.

Down a blind alley, she pulled me against a wall. I tasted pomegranates in her kiss, licked the salt of her sweat from her nipples. She arched a leg high and gasped quietly as I sank into her.

I was still lost, but at least I'd found this.





Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of less than 100 words. Additionally, I provided a key phrase I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:

"...a hint of mischief..."

Nobody's checking word counts, or for the key phrase, 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).

Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track: 

The woman in this picture seems just the kind of mischievous imp I'd like to spend a couple of days getting to know while visiting a foreign country. I've never traveled extensively outside the U.S., but I had little trouble imagining someone who was down on his luck, had had a series of misfortunes or was otherwise unable to leave the country, yet couldn't find a means to sustain himself, wandering the streets, penniless and alone. I wondered how I would react if I were him. I wondered how she would notice. I wondered how she might introduce herself, and this, with very little changing or editing, is the result. I hope you enjoyed it. 

If you are playing along this week, please leave your link below using the widget. It will appear in the text of the post itself, not in the comments, so everyone that's playing will be listed here. This frees me from having to chase people down to find out if they're playing or update the Friday post several times for late entries. Your cooperation is appreciated.

In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.



Check back here on Monday for the next challenge! And if you have any photos or artwork you'd like to see in a future challenge, please send them my way. Thanks to Lexi for providing this week's photo!

-- PB

Monday, May 7, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 5-11-12

Iiiiiiiiiiii'm back!


(Source image unknown, provided a long time ago by the lovely Lexi)

Your challenge for this Friday, 5-11-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of less than 100 words. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:

"...a hint of mischief..."

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.

My take on this pic will go up by 12:01 AM on Friday morning. If you are participating this week (and the more the merrier -- tell all your friends. Enemies, too, if you like), simply stop by any time after that and leave your link using the widget in the body of the post. Then everybody will know you're playing along and they'll come leave nice comments on your entry. Everyone wins!

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. Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/, or to the FAQ. 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 the list of participants as well as my own take, 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.

Many thanks also to those of you who stepped in while I was busy with other stuff. Gotta keep you all in practice, after all.

 -- PB

Friday, April 27, 2012

not dead, merely sleeping

"The report of my death was an exaggeration."  -- Mark Twain

I am, in fact, still around, even though you haven't seen hide nor hair of me in weeks. This may continue for a while yet, sadly, as work and personal commitments are savagely eating all of my free time. Still, I've plenty of tales in me yet and hope to return to a more active role here as soon as I can. Bear (heh) with me.

-- PB

Friday, March 16, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday 3-16-12: "Our Place Always Smelt of Roses"

(Source image: "Forbidden Embrace" by Igor Vasiliadis)


"It's hopeless, then?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. The Chancellor may have forbidden it, but as long as we're careful to not reveal anything in public, we should be all right."

"I don't know. I love you, but I don't want to get popped into one of Creedy's black bags, either."

Valerie smiled. "Then we'll just have to be sure we do all of our loving here at home, where we're safe from prying eyes."

They sank down on the bed, clothes already falling free, and met in a tender, bruising embrace. Superheated skin met silken skin; fingers explored, caressed; tongues twined and danced. They molded together, melting and merging, casting caution and fear to the wind.

Forbidden or not, there was just no way they could deny this intensity, this connection.

This love.


Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of not more than 160 words. Additionally, I provided a key word I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:

"...hopeless..."

Nobody's checking word counts, or for the key phrase, 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).

Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track: 

The title of the picture determined where I went with this one. "Forbidden Embrace" gave me an idea, and then I took inspiration from elsewhere. Readers of Alan Moore and David Lloyd's seminal graphic novel "V for Vendetta", or for that matter viewers of the Wachowski Brothers' excellent film adaptation, will no doubt recognize where I got Valerie and her lover. If you haven't read the graphic novel or seen the movie, do so. Both are well worth taking in; although the story's crackdown on lesbians and gays is only a small part of the greater picture, I think it says a lot that when we start taking away rights from gays and lesbians and telling them they aren't free to love who they choose, it's only a short couple of steps from there to a totalitarian regime where no one is safe and nothing is allowed without the consent of the government. Fuck that.

If you are playing along this week, please leave your link below using the widget. It will appear in the text of the post itself, not in the comments, so everyone that's playing will be listed here. This frees me from having to chase people down to find out if they're playing or update the Friday post several times for late entries. Your cooperation is appreciated.

In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.



Please note: This will be the last FFF challenge (and probably the last post) from me for some time until probably mid- or possibly late April. I have some personal issues to deal with as well as severe crunch time at my workplace and can't devote any spare time to larking about as I might wish. Thanks for your understanding.


-- PB

Monday, March 12, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 3-16-12

(Source image: "Forbidden Embrace" by Igor Vasiliadis)

Your challenge for this Friday, 3-16-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of no more than 160 words. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:

"...hopeless..."

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.

My take on this pic will go up by 12:01 AM on Friday morning. If you are participating this week (and the more the merrier -- tell all your friends. Enemies, too, if you like), simply stop by any time after that and leave your link using the widget in the body of the post. Then everybody will know you're playing along and they'll come leave nice comments on your entry. Everyone wins!

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. Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/, or to the FAQ. 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.



Please note: This will be the last FFF challenge from me for some time until probably mid-April. I have some personal issues to deal with as well as severe crunch time at my workplace and can't devote any spare time to larking about as I might wish. I'll see you folks this Friday, and then again in April.

 -- PB

Friday, February 17, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday 2-17-12: "A Ballet on Silk Sheets"

(Source image: unknown title, photo by Mina Bast)

"Now," she said. "Take me now. The rose is nice, and the dinner was excellent, but now I want dessert."

Time stretched, folded, twisted like taffy. She rocked atop me, hips moving slowly; then her legs were up over my shoulders as I thrust deeply inside; then she was gripping the bedframe as I pounded her from behind. A dance of decadence, a symphony of sensations, musk and sweat, heights of pleasure, cries of joy.

Afterwards we lay, spent, tangled together, hearts hammering. She sighed softly, contented.

"Happy Valentine's Day, love," I murmured.




Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of less than 100 words. Additionally, I provided a key word I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:

"...folded..."

Nobody's checking word counts, or for the key phrase, 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).

Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:


I originally intended this to be much more raw and primal, more about animal lust than romantic love -- but then I saw the rose, and suddenly my viewpoint shifted in another completely different direction. I hope your own Valentine's Day was at least this lovely and more. If it wasn't, well, I hope you'll have some fun soon.


If you are playing along this week, please leave your link below using the widget. It will appear in the text of the post itself, not in the comments, so everyone that's playing will be listed here. This frees me from having to chase people down to find out if they're playing or update the Friday post several times for late entries. Your cooperation is appreciated.

In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.



Please note there will be no challenge next week and possibly the week after that. I will be occupied with personal and business matters and won't have the time or access to devote to FFF. Check with some of the other participants if you like, and be of good cheer; I shall return. 

-- PB

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 2-17-12

(Source image: unknown title, photo by Mina Bast)


Your challenge for this Friday, 2-17-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of less than 100 words. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:

"...folded..."

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.

My take on this pic will go up by 12:01 AM on Friday morning. If you are participating this week (and the more the merrier -- tell all your friends. Enemies, too, if you like), simply stop by any time after that and leave your link using the widget in the body of the post. Then everybody will know you're playing along and they'll come leave nice comments on your entry. Everyone wins!

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. Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/, or to the FAQ. 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 the list of participants as well as my own take. And as always, if you have any photos or artwork you'd like to see used in an upcoming week, send them my way.

Please note that there will be no FFF next week or the week after as I will be preoccupied with business and personal matters. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves in the meantime, or maybe somebody else would like to host for those two weeks.

 -- PB

Friday, February 10, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday 2-10-12: "A Rose in the Battleground"

(Source image: "Offering" by Valery Bareta)


“It's no use,” she wept. “I'll never be any good to you.”

He smiled. “Don't be ridiculous. Your body knows what it wants. You just have to give it time.”

She shook her head, crying harder. “Dammit, just go. You've been so patient, I can't stand it.”

He stooped and lifted her effortlessly. “Not a chance. You're worth far too much to me for me to just leave now, when you need me so much.”

Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, feeling the proof of his passion against her thigh, she felt suddenly light as a feather. Maybe he wasn't wrong, at that.


Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of 64-123 words. Additionally, I provided a key phrase I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:

"...light as a feather..."

Nobody's checking word counts, or for the key phrase, 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).

Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:

This picture spoke to me very strongly. She looks so vulnerable, so broken, that this story sprang to mind almost fully formed. Clearly she was having issues of some kind and he, being the patient sort who recognizes a gem when he sees it, thinks she's worth the trouble. I like happy endings. I hope you do too.


If you are playing along this week, please leave your link below using the widget. It will appear in the text of the post itself, not in the comments, so everyone that's playing will be listed here. This frees me from having to chase people down to find out if they're playing or update the Friday post several times for late entries. Your cooperation is appreciated.

In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.



Check back here on Monday for the next challenge! And if you have any photos or artwork you'd like to see in a future challenge, please send them my way. 

-- PB

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 2-10-12

(Source image: "Offering" by Valery Bareta)

Your challenge for this Friday, 2-10-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of 64-123 words. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:

"...light as a feather..."

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.

My take on this pic will go up by 12:01 AM on Friday morning. If you are participating this week (and the more the merrier -- tell all your friends. Enemies, too, if you like), simply stop by any time after that and leave your link using the widget in the body of the post. Then everybody will know you're playing along and they'll come leave nice comments on your entry. Everyone wins!

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. Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/, or to the FAQ. 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 the list of participants as well as my own take, 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, February 3, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday 2-3-12: "Crystalline Dream"

(Image stolen from Lexi some time ago; title unknown, artist probably Adam Spizak)


She looked, curiously, at the pill in her palm. This was going to take her to places undreamed?

Almost without thinking, she put it to her mouth, swallowed.

************************************************

Waves of liquid light, sweeping, rising. Crystalline fire spiraling along her nerves, setting them aflame. Skin singing with sensation. A great gulf, filling with burning ice.

Scattered notes dancing in the swirling wind. Mighty gears turning, meshing, driving her higher. Globes of ecstasy, bubbling up and through her. Building and foaming, gyring and twisting, lithe and effortless. Floodflames as she neared the tautened edge, then crossed it in screams of wonder and joy.



Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of 85-105 words. Additionally, I provided a key phrase I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:

"...crystalline..."

Nobody's checking word counts, or for the key phrase, 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).

Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:

This artwork fascinated me. Even though I've never done any hallucinogenics, it seemed to be a pretty good representation of how one might seem. I crossed that with my hazy ideas of what I think the female orgasm might feel like, and then stirred briskly with lyrical and poetic writing. The result, I think, speaks for itself. I hope you enjoyed it.

Understand that I don't advocate recreational drug use -- it seems to me to be an easy way to get lost in an "outside" world, while losing touch with the real world and, incidentally, blowing lots of money -- but I can't help but wonder what an acid trip, or a mescaline trip, might do for someone who was already sensually-minded.

The title comes from the song of the same name by Shadow Gallery. Prog-rock is very good at describing dream worlds, so it makes a good soundtrack.


If you are playing along this week, please leave your link below using the widget. It will appear in the text of the post itself, not in the comments, so everyone that's playing will be listed here. This frees me from having to chase people down to find out if they're playing or update the Friday post several times for late entries. Your cooperation is appreciated.

Apologies for the late entry -- this did not auto-post at midnight for some reason. I've added three of the participants that I've seen so far since they couldn't add theirs without this being here!

In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.



Check back here on Monday for the next challenge! And if you have any photos or artwork you'd like to see in a future challenge, please send them my way. Thanks to Lexi for providing this week's art.

-- PB

Monday, January 30, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 2-3-12

(Image stolen from Lexi some time ago; artist and title unknown)

Your challenge for this Friday, 2-3-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of 85-105 words. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:

"...crystalline..."

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.

My take on this pic will go up by 12:01 AM on Friday morning. If you are participating this week (and the more the merrier -- tell all your friends. Enemies, too, if you like), simply stop by any time after that and leave your link using the widget in the body of the post. Then everybody will know you're playing along and they'll come leave nice comments on your entry. Everyone wins!

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. Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/, or to the FAQ. 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 the list of participants as well as my own take, 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, January 13, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday 1-13-12: "Reflected Desire"

(Image provided by David; artist, Helmut Newton, title unknown)


There were no restraints, no checks on her motion. Just the sure and certain knowledge that if she moved so much as an inch, he'd be gone like smoke. “Be still” he'd said, and he meant it.

With nowhere to turn, she gazed at her reflected form. Her arms ached. Her legs burned from the strain of holding herself so erect. The heels were killing her...but damn if they didn't sculpt the hell out of her calves. Her skin gleamed, pale and pearlescent. Her frame was spare and taut, muscles drawn in sharp relief. Her breasts stood tall and proud, nipples pointy, hard with excitement. She felt her breath quicken as she realized that she was maddeningly desirable. Her mouth watered, and she felt herself getting wetter by the second.

And she realized: This. This is what he was waiting for.

In a cracked and failing voice, she breathed, “Take me now...please?”




Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of 85-188 words. Additionally, I provided a key phrase I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:

"...cracked and failing..."

Nobody's checking word counts, or for the key phrase, 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).

Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:

I hope everyone enjoyed their holiday break. My own was a mix of business and pleasure, with more of the latter than the former, fortunately.

This little vignette was almost effortless for me, with my fingers racing on the keyboard to catch the words before they escaped. It makes me happy when it's that simple. Then again, a picture like this truly is worth a thousand words. To me, she looks a bit strained from holding that position, but I think there's also a fair amount of excitement and anticipation. Let's see if any of you think the same! 

If you are playing along this week, please leave your link below using the widget. It will appear in the text of the post itself, not in the comments, so everyone that's playing will be listed here. This frees me from having to chase people down to find out if they're playing or update the Friday post several times for late entries. Your cooperation is appreciated.

In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.



Check back here on Monday for the next challenge! And if you have any photos or artwork you'd like to see in a future challenge, please send them my way. Thanks to David for providing this week's photo.

-- PB

Monday, January 9, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 1-13-12

(Image provided by David; artist, Helmut Newton, title unknown)

Your challenge for this Friday, 1-13-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of 85-188 words. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:

"...cracked and failing..."

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.

My take on this pic will go up by 12:01 AM on Friday morning. If you are participating this week (and the more the merrier -- tell all your friends. Enemies, too, if you like), simply stop by any time after that and leave your link using the widget in the body of the post. Then everybody will know you're playing along and they'll come leave nice comments on your entry. Everyone wins!

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. Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/, or to the FAQ. 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 the list of participants as well as my own take, 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. Thanks to David for providing this week's photo.

 -- PB