tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76896220981609890722024-03-13T06:53:41.051-05:00Insatiabear: A Panserbjørne's MusingsAn armored bear muses on sex, love and relationships.The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.comBlogger363125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-62974271542251326652015-02-24T09:37:00.003-06:002015-05-27T13:04:31.131-05:00Breaking the silenceI have been musing about returning to this world for some time, but now Blogger has advised they are going to be no longer allowing "sexually explicit" or "graphic nude" material in their blogs as of March 23rd. Apparently the Adult Content warning isn't good enough for them anymore.<br />
<br />
I am debating purchasing my own domain and moving things over there, but I am not sure it would be worth it given my long silence here. I'm sure I've lost most of the regular readers I had and I am honestly not sure I have the energy to try and rebuild it all.<br />
<br />
I'm curious -- how many of you are still following this site? If you are seeing this, please leave me a comment. I would love to know how many of you would follow me if I went elsewhere, or would be happy to see me return.<br />
<br />
Love to all of you.<br />
<br />
<b><i>-- PB</i></b><br />
<br />
<b><i>UPDATE: Apparently Google changed their minds on this one after receiving a LOT of backlash on the issue. So: no changes needed, they will continue to allow adult content. Let's hope that stays a thing. </i></b><br />
<br />The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-79308450224277194252014-03-04T16:07:00.001-06:002014-03-04T16:22:31.996-06:00Spring.me questionsI was recently asked two questions via the spring.me app on the sidebar there:<br />
<br />
<i>"Will you grace us with your presence soon?"</i><br />
<br />
I am glad to know I've been missed. I have many ideas brewing for stories, I'm just low on time to write them. Work is a pain that way.<br />
<br />
I'll definitely be participating in Flash Fiction Friday again, just to keep active, so you can expect something new from me this Friday if not sooner.<br />
<br />
The other question was:<br />
<br />
<i>"When you're upset, what always cheers you up?"</i><br />
<br />
My comfort foods are chocolate and pizza (though not at the same time). I also have some music and movies that will usually cheer me up. Movie-wise, Disney's "Aladdin", most Pixar movies, Star Wars, and Lord of the Rings. Musically, Pink Floyd, Rush, and Jimmy Buffett are three definite go-tos for improving my spirits.<br />
<br />
Oh, and let's not forget good old sex. I've almost never been so upset that sex wouldn't cheer me up. <br />
<br />
Thanks for the inquiry, Anonymous!<br />
<br />
<b><i>-- PB</i></b>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-26497104260914834592014-02-17T11:01:00.000-06:002014-02-17T11:03:01.878-06:00Found WantingAnother day, another morning waking up with an erection and nothing useful to do with it. Stuck with a ridge in his jeans, uncomfortable friction, rasping cloth against sensitive flesh already oversensitized from too many times jerking off. Not for the first time he cursed his demonically high drive, particularly when there were no handy targets to vent it on.<br />
<br />
His mind drifted, slipped sideways, came to rest on her (as it usually did in times like these). Her impish smile, the way she bit her lip when she was aroused, the breathy little-girl voice she did so well. He shifted uncomfortably, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans. This wasn't helping. It didn't help to think of the feel of her silky hair, the taste of her tongue, the scent of her pussy when she was as turned on as he, the way she shrieked like a firebell when she came hard. It didn't help at all to remember the velvety feel of her slick tunnel, the way she fitted herself to him with a happy sigh, the way she hooked her legs over his shoulders and crossed her ankles behind his head. It was making things not the slightest bit better to recall the way she bounced up and down in his lap, begging him to play with her tits while he fucked her, to remember the insane heat of her body against his, the way she splashed against his crotch, fountaining out around and against him while he rocked deeper and deeper within.<br />
<br />
Down went his jeans again, his boxer briefs along with them. Rigid, commanding, standing tall, he took himself in hand and began to stroke, already breathing hard, hips bumping upward on the downbeat. Hazily, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt this would only be the first of many, many times. Knew she would be dancing in and out of his thoughts for the entire day, drifting from dream to dazed acceptance of reality, but still achingly hard and ready for another go. Knew he'd be coming up with more scenarios, more fantasies, even as he sprayed hot cum up onto his own shoulder and chest. Knew it would only be a matter of minutes before he had to take yet another break, to try doggedly to tame the beast, to get a few minutes' respite from the aching, throbbing hardness that returned any time he dared even think her name.<br />
<br />
He wondered when he'd see her again, and how long it would take before she was screaming his name that time. He wondered who was sharing her bed right now, and if they had a clue how lucky they were. He wondered why she affected him like this, but as always found any explanation wanting. She just....was. Hooked on a feeling, addicted to her body, enjoying it to the hilt even as he hated the fact that he never had a moment's peace.<br />
<br />
Absently, he wiped the cum off his chest, shoulders, stomach, groin. Tossed it into the nearby wastebasket nearly full of crumpled paper towels -- it'd be time to empty that again soon. He sighed, and regarded his already-twitching cock as it swelled, lengthened, thickened again, pointing at him in gleeful, hungry joy.<br />
<br />
He got up and padded toward the bathroom, kicking the tangled clothing free of his ankles as he went. Maybe an icy shower would help. But he guessed it probably wouldn't.<br />
<br />
<i><b>-- PB</b></i>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-90685104486487788392014-02-10T10:43:00.001-06:002014-02-10T10:43:06.919-06:00The phoenix arises!...........wow, that's overly dramatic, innit?I've been away from here for quite a long time. I won't go into details, but it had to do with personal and emotional issues that were quite serious. Those issues have been corrected, or at least greatly improved, and I'm once again at a point where I feel like sharing my sexy thoughts and musings with the world at large.<br />
<br />
I wonder, how many readers do I have left after disappearing for so long? Tell me, how can I make it up to you all? First reader to comment with a "welcome back" gets a story written just for her (or him). :)<br />
<br />
Seriously, though, if you are still reading or following this journal, I'd appreciate you dropping me a line, either by email or by leaving a comment. I'm quite aware that being offline for so long has probably cost me most of the fans I might have had, but am nevertheless curious how many of you are still with me.<br />
<br />
More stories, poetry, musings, fantasies and more to follow in the next few weeks. I promise.<br />
<br />
<i><b>-- PB</b></i><br />
<br />The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-3104453247819517252013-02-18T08:51:00.000-06:002013-02-18T08:51:56.740-06:00e[Lust] #43<div itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/BlogPosting">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/Becks-and-Her-Kinks.jpg"><img alt="Becks and Her Kinks" class="aligncenter wp-image-2149" src="http://elustsexblogs.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/Becks-and-Her-Kinks.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Photo courtesy of <a href="http://beckandherkinks.com/sinful-sunday-collared-submission/" target="_blank">Beck and Her Kinks</a></div>
<b></b><b>Welcome to<a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/" title="About"> e[lust]</a> </b>-
The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured
under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism,
erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here
at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #44? Start with the newly
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P.S. Thank you for your patience while we find our way around here at
e[lust] if we have made any mistakes (and surely we have) we will do
our best to get it right the next time around.<br />
<br />
<b>~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~</b><br />
<a href="http://longingsend.wordpress.com/2013/01/09/misconceptions-of-dating-polyamorous-women/" target="_blank">misconceptions of dating polyamorous women</a><br />
<a href="http://www.domme-chronicles.com/2013/01/compromise-in-ds-relationships.html" target="_blank">Compromise in D/s relationships</a><br />
<a href="http://acuriousmuse.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/writing-challenge-journey.html" target="_blank">Writing Challenge – The Journey</a><br />
<br />
<b>~ Featured Posts (Molly’s Picks) ~</b><br />
<a href="http://pennysdirtythoughts.com/to-shave-or-not-to-shave/" target="_blank">To shave or not to shave?</a><br />
<a href="http://atrueunfolding.com/2013/01/29/my-100th-post-of-human-and-whore/" target="_blank">Of Human and Whore</a><br />
<br />
<i>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 “<a href="http://elustsexblogs.com/faqs/" title="FAQ’s">read more…</a>” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!</i><br />
<br />
<b>Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships</b><br />
<a href="http://dangerouslilly.com/2013/01/non-monogamy-sex-toy-safety/" target="_blank">Non-Monogamy and Sex Toys – Safe Sharing Tips</a><br />
<a href="http://sexylittleideas.com/a-mans-case-for-being-an-asshole/" target="_blank">A Man’s Case for Being an Asshole</a><br />
<a href="http://wholesexlife.com/2012/12/thyroid-function-and-sexuality/" target="_blank">Thyroid function and sexuality</a><br />
<a href="http://curvaceousdee.com/2013/01/property-renewal/" target="_blank">Property Renewal</a><br />
<a href="http://silverdropstoybox.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/part-7-so-i-asked-silverhubby-about.html" target="_blank">SilverHubby: “On Being Fucked by You”</a><br />
<a href="http://between-your-legs.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/pain-in-my-ass.html" target="_blank">Pain In My Ass</a><br />
<a href="http://www.omniwhore.com/chivalry/" target="_blank">Chivalry</a><br />
<a href="http://mollysdailykiss.com/2013/01/09/think-different/" target="_blank">Think Different</a><br />
<a href="http://rtws.blogspot.com/2013/01/open-vs-poly.html" target="_blank">Open vs Poly</a><br />
<a href="http://itgirlragdoll.com/escaping-the-individual/" target="_blank">Escaping the Individual</a><br />
<a href="http://pennysdirtythoughts.com/to-shave-or-not-to-shave/" target="_blank">To shave or not to shave?</a><br />
<br />
<b>Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor</b><br />
<a href="http://writesexright.com/is-your-sex-toy-review-breaking-the-law/" target="_blank">Is your sex toy review breaking the law?</a><br />
<br />
<b>Kink & Fetish</b><br />
<a href="http://thatsmessedupblog.blogspot.com/2012/12/good-boy.html" target="_blank">Good Boy</a><br />
<a href="http://www.aslutsmemoir.com/2013/02/breathe.html" target="_blank">Breathe</a><br />
<br />
<b>Erotic Writing</b><br />
<a href="http://mydissolutelife.com/2013/01/take-me-in/" target="_blank">Take me in</a><br />
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2013/01/downpour.html" target="_blank">Downpour [[hey, look at that -- it's me!]]</a><br />
<a href="http://sexualdestinies.blogspot.com/2013/01/a-naughty-nurse-setup.html" target="_blank">A Naughty Nurse Setup!</a><br />
<a href="http://rebelsnotes.com/2013/01/afternoon-delight/" target="_blank">Afternoon Delight</a><br />
<a href="http://kissinbluekaren.com/2013/01/18/sexy-single/" target="_blank">Sexy Single</a><br />
<a href="http://rachelkincaid4.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/tender-is-night.html?zx=c2d67ff11c60cb9b" target="_blank">Tender is the Night</a><br />
<a href="http://bdswain.com/post/40084598320/butchonbutch" target="_blank">Butch on Butch</a><br />
<a href="http://heelsnstocking.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/a-change-of-plan.html" target="_blank">A change of plan</a><br />
<a href="http://cammiesonthefloor.blogspot.com/2013/01/anal-final-frontier.html" target="_blank">Anal: The Final Frontier</a><br />
<a href="http://theredheadedslut.blogspot.com/2013/01/when-he-comes-in-my-mouth_15.html" target="_blank">When He Comes In My Mouth</a><br />
<a href="http://www.malflic.com/2013/02/01/morning-surprise/" target="_blank">Morning Surprise</a><span style="color: #888888;"><br /> </span><br />
<a href="http://beingblacksilk.com/2012/12/29/winter/" target="_blank">Winter</a><span style="color: #888888;"><br /> </span><br />
<a href="http://phlye.wordpress.com/2013/02/04/lolita-twenty-thirteen-2/" target="_blank">Lolita Twenty-Thirteen, Part One</a><br />
<a href="http://cfbergel.tumblr.com/post/40165423232/simple" target="_blank">Simple</a><br />
<a href="http://sexwithrose.wordpress.com/2013/01/22/my-dirty-fantasy/" target="_blank">My dirty fantasy</a><br />
<a href="http://www.miasmusings.co.uk/pleasure/" target="_blank">Pleasure</a><br />
<a href="http://barenakedlady.wordpress.com/2013/01/27/the-peace-of-wild-things/" target="_blank">The Peace of Wild Things</a><br />
<a href="http://twistedangeldesires.com/camping-conquests/" target="_blank">Camping Conquests</a><br />
<a href="http://plumptiouspea.wordpress.com/2013/02/06/collar-lead/" target="_blank">Collar & Lead</a><br />
<a href="http://geekynymph.blogspot.com/2013/02/eat-me.html" target="_blank">Eat Me</a><br />
<a href="http://beckandherkinks.com/wicked-wednesday-shhh-come-here/" target="_blank">Shhh! Come Here! </a><br />
<a href="http://thecunninglinctus.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/the-end-of-world-almost.html" target="_blank">The End of The World – Almost</a><br />
<a href="http://stellakiink.wordpress.com/2013/01/16/restraints-for-a-good-girl/" target="_blank">Restraints For A Good Girl</a><br />
<a href="http://atrueunfolding.com/2013/01/29/my-100th-post-of-human-and-whore/" target="_blank">Of Human and Whore</a><br />
<a href="http://mysexlifewithlola.com/2013/01/23/silver-fox-mynx-and-the-hunter-part-vi-take-two/" rel="bookmark" title="Silver Fox, Mynx, and the Hunter – Part VI: Take Two">Silver Fox, Mynx, and the Hunter – Part VI: Take Two</a><br />
<a href="http://pandadementia.com/?p=922//" target="_blank">A Story For Sir</a></div>
The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-2499372922464488742013-02-14T12:23:00.000-06:002013-02-14T12:23:06.231-06:00Happy Valentine's DayJust a quick note as I'm swamped with work. I hope everyone has a happy, loving, sensual Valentine's Day, filled with lots of hot sex with your partner of choice. Have a great one, folks.<br />
<br />
<b><i>-- PB</i></b>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-78665609294863363682013-02-04T09:48:00.003-06:002013-02-04T09:49:23.426-06:00"Doctor, Doctor"Waiting to see the doctor always sucks. It's universal. No doctor is <b>ever</b>, ever on time, and so you're always reduced to reading one of the ancient magazines left in their waiting room, staring at the wall, trying to avoid being sneezed or coughed on by the other less considerate patients, and in general trying to pass the time without going out of your head. Then when you finally get called for your appointment, thirty minutes late, you get taken back to the tiny waiting room and then spend another half hour cooling your heels while you wait for the doctor to make his appearance.<br />
<br />
Yes, it truly sucks. So it was no surprise at all to me that when I accompanied you for your yearly checkup that you were casting about for something to do while we waited, and of course your mind went where it always does. And of course mine was right there with you. We make a good pair, we do.<br />
<br />
Your fingers dance over your smartphone's keyboard, and *bzzt* goes my own phone. I pull it out, and my eyes widen just a little bit:<i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>F: I'm not wearing any panties. Just so you know.</i><br />
<br />
I breathe deep and cast you a furtive glance. You're already grinning, not even bothering to hide it. I Swype out a reply and a few seconds later your own phone vibrates. I notice you are holding it a little closer to your crotch than most people do, and that your eyelashes fluttered just a bit when it went off.<i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>M: Ah, good! Then it seems we had the same idea this morning. Neither am I.</i><br />
<br />
Now it's your eyes that widen, trailing down my body to the ridge rising in my jeans. The outline is very pronounced, but of course you can't resist feeling for yourself, placing a hand on my thigh in mock sympathy, asking me in your public voice if I'm sure I'm feeling okay, "accidentally" brushing lingeringly against the ridge in my jeans. Your solicitous chatter covers my indrawn breath; how thoughtful of you.<br />
<br />
My phone buzzes again. When did you have time to type another message?<i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>F: Ooooo. Nice and hard for me already. Tell me, baby, what are you going to do with that big hard cock?</i><br />
<br />
My hands shake and three times I miskey my response. Finally your phone buzzes with my response<i>:</i><br />
<br />
<i>M: Oh, I don't know. Thought I might, for example, slide it deep into your hot, wet pussy. Since, you know, it's bound to be wet by now. I know how naughty you are.</i><br />
<br />
You shift in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs. Now it's my turn to ask if you're feeling okay. A few seconds, and my phone vibrates:<i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>F: Of course. Your naughty girl. But you like me that way, don't you? You like it when I get so turned on telling you what I'm going to do to you. You like your girl all hot and wet and ready for you.</i><br />
<br />
Now we're both breathing fast. The others in the room are giving us concerned looks, wondering if we might have the flu. Both of us are flushed, beads of sweat forming on our foreheads. Your phone buzzes:<i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>M: I do like it. In fact I love it. I love the way you are instantly ready to go. I love the way all I have to do is whisper in your ear and you're dripping for me. It makes it so much easier for me to slide a couple fingers in. Or, for example, something bigger.</i><br />
<br />
You lick your lips and give me a sultry look from under those lashes. Your fingers dance over the keyboard again. My phone:<i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>F: Bigger? Why, whatever do you mean, lover?</i><br />
<br />
Your phone buzzes with my response, but before you can pull it up, the receptionist calls your name. On shaky legs you stand, and I'm right there, arm around your waist, to support you, my hand "accidentally" squeezing your ass on the way by.<br />
<br />
We're ushered back into the waiting room. The PA takes your blood pressure and temperature and then tells you to strip down to your underwear and put on the gown. "The doctor will be with you in a few minutes," she says, and then leaves.<br />
<br />
The click of the door closing is as loud as a gunshot. We look at each other, the hunger in our gazes almost palpable.<br />
<br />
It's you that makes the first move, stepping away from me. You pull your dress up and over your head, slowly, sensuously, with a little wriggle that accentuates your curves. I drink in the sight of that gorgeous body, reaching out a hand to stroke your thigh. A small slap brings me back. "Nuh-uh", you say sharply. "No touching. The doctor will be here in a few minutes, remember?" You pull the gown on and begin tying it, but your hands fumble with the knots and it's obvious to me that your mind is still elsewhere.<br />
<br />
I step close and put my hands on your waist. "Wait," you say, weakly, "the doctor." "Yes," I murmur, drawing the S out and out. "The doctor. But he'll be running late. They always do." I slide my hands inside the gown -- not hard to do -- and run them along your stomach, down to your thighs.<br />
<br />
Suddenly I realize I'm feeling cotton there. What? Was I so stunned by watching you undress that I missed something that obvious? I hook a finger inside the waistband: yup, panties. "I thought you said you weren't wearing any!" You look back over your shoulder with that gamin grin. "I lied," you say simply. "I might need to be spanked."<br />
<br />
Maybe another time. The very fact that you want the spanking immediately makes me decide not to give you one. Instead I just hook my fingers into that waistband and pull, yanking those panties down to your ankles. "No!" you gasp. "We can't....no time, we'll......get.......caught." The pauses between words are punctuated with sighs; my hands are still active, now cupping the globes of your ass, now roaming around in front. I slip a finger down to those plump lips and find you wet, so wet, ready and raring to go. "Naughty, naughty girl," I murmur reprovingly. "Mustn't disobey me like that. When I want my girl, I take her. You know this by now."<br />
<br />
"Yes," you murmur, sighing, leaning back into me, wiggling your ass against me, rubbing yourself against the front of my jeans. "Don't want to get caught, but I.....oh god." You moan as I slip three fingers into your wet pussy. "I......oh. I don't.....ohh! Unhh!!! I don't care any more. Please......"<br />
<br />
"Please what?" I tease, rubbing a thumb over your clit. "Does my girl need to be fucked now? Does she need my cock after all?"<br />
<br />
"Oh yes," you moan, and punctuate it with a shiver so violent it almost flings the gown, already precariously tied, off your body completely. "Do me now. Do me any way you like. But <i>hurry!</i>"<br />
<br />
With three quick movements my zipper is down and my jeans are down to my knees. My cock springs free immediately -- unlike you, I <i>wasn't </i>lying about not wearing any underwear -- and it throbs angrily in the cool air. I sit down hard on the doctor's stool and spin you around to face me. Your feet tangle in the sodden mass of your panties; I help you get one foot free but the other shoe binds up and they stay hooked around that foot. Neither of us cares. I draw you closer, spreading your legs with one hand. You straddle me, reaching for my cock, pointing me the right way. I look up at you, hair hanging in your face, lips puffy with lust, and I think again that you are <i>so. <b>very. </b>fucking. hot </i>when you are really needing to get fucked.<br />
<br />
Then everything disappears in a rising tide of pleasure as you impale yourself on me, hard. You aren't just wet; you are utterly soaked, and it's a good thing, because you rock me deep inside you with one thrust and immediately you're shaking, gasping, bouncing up and down on me. My hands lift and drop you, fondling your ass, squeezing. I'm so hard. So hot. Aching for you. Your cunt clutches at me eagerly, welcoming the invasion. I am gripped by velvet.<br />
<br />
Moaning. Both of us are moaning now, quietly, but getting louder. I've never felt so hot, so out of control. I want this godlike pleasure to last and last but the minutes are ticking by and we need to get off and get you off me before the doctor comes in. I thrust harder; you pull me deeper into you. I lift you higher and drop you faster; you lean forward and bite my shoulder to stifle your cries. I lunge to my feet, supporting you on that bar of flesh still sunk so deeply inside you; you wrap your legs around my ass, hook your arms around my neck, and capture my mouth for a violent tongue duel. I slam you none too gently against the wall, trapping you there, helpless to resist my pounding. Thrusting, up and in, in, into that hot wetness, into the glorious ecstasy that is your cunt, in, into you. "Harder," you moan, "deeper," and "yes, baby, yes," I answer you, suiting word to deed. Bottoming out in your hot pussy, my legs straining as I shove myself deep inside you, shaking with need.<br />
<br />
"Oh god," I moan, voice cracking, "I'm gonna," and "yes, oh yes, do it, fill me," you cry. Your eyes are wild, lost, swept away. They lock with mine, the electricity arcing between us. The lust sears, it burns. I tremble, I quake, I feel the rush, feel you clamp me even harder. Your mouth opens wide, captures mine again, and we scream at the top of our lungs into each others' mouths when I empty my balls deep inside you. Your heels dig into my ass, your thighs tighten around me. You bite my tongue and then you're shaking, convulsing yourself, hips banging rhythmically against me, unable to stop yourself even if you'd wanted, coming so hard it's almost painful.<br />
<br />
I thrust a last time, deeper still, straining to my utmost, every muscle locked.......and then slowly, slowly, return to this plane of reality. My ass unclenches, I come down off my tiptoes. You slide slowly down the wall and I put my hands on your ass to steady you. I pull back and out of you, breathing hard. Glance at the clock on the wall, and now I panic in earnest. Quickly I pull my jeans up, my wet cock rasping deliciously against the rough denim. I help you adjust the gown more decorously, and we quickly grab a handful of tissues to mop me off your thighs.<br />
<br />
We look at each other, grinning like a pair of idiots...and then jump apart a few feet as there's a knock at the door. "Come in," you call in a rusty voice, and the doctor enters, looking down at your chart. "Well, miss........." he starts, and then falters to a stop. We both follow his gaze, and realize that we've forgotten your panties, still tangled around one of your shoes.<br />
<br />
Both of us go bright red. The doctor merely raises an eyebrow, and closes the door behind him. "Well," he muses, matter-of-factly. "What seems to be the trouble today?"<br />
<br />
He looks up, eyes twinkling. "Quite obviously, it isn't a problem with our sex life, hmmm?"<br />
<br />
<b><i>-- PB</i></b>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-76481546174602002812013-02-01T11:11:00.001-06:002013-02-01T11:11:52.746-06:00Flash Fiction Friday 2-1-13: "Unspoken"<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m69cggCKIP1qendtwo1_500.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m69cggCKIP1qendtwo1_500.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Word Limit = 300 words<br />
Key Phrase = hazy<br />
Extra Credit = Figure out who's taking the picture, or, tell us where the husband is. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The air was heavy, thick, redolent with
citrus and jasmine, cigarette smoke, and a darker, more primal scent
overlaying all. The ceiling fans spun lazily, doing little to stir
the haze. I cared not; my attention lay elsewhere.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
All night I'd watched them, mutely
appraising. Watched them queer the pitch for every sad bastard who
came along and thought the exposure of skin was a license for
grabbing, or assumed they must be available merely because they were
unoccupied. Watched the interlopers slink away, torn in small pieces
by razor tongue and the thousand-yard stare from dead, dead eyes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Once or twice I caught the hooded gaze
of the one in red. The glitter of those eyes was absolute, would
admit of no authority, no passions. It belied the animal hungers so
plain in every deliberate movement she made. The blonde – caressing
her friend's shoulders slowly, once in a while leaning over to
whisper inarticulate nothings – studiously refused to look at me at
all. Her nipples stood tall, her breasts were drawn tight;
occasionally she would trail a hand down between her legs and touch
herself, and her eyes would close in heavy-lidded pleasure.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And then the one in red seemed to come
to a decision. She raised her head and looked at me, deliberately,
insolently. Her hands went to her dress and slid it up, up, till I
could see all too easily the dusky rose of her cunt. It glistened
like a promise.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I looked at her. “Why?” I wanted to
know. “What makes me different from the rest of them?” I
indicated the room with a slow sweep of my hand.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her red red mouth shaped the words
precisely. “I admire restraint,” she breathed. “Makes it more
fun breaking that restraint.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Director's Commentary:</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>This was a fantastic photo. It has a very noir-ish feel to it and I tried to inject a bit of that into this piece. I get the impression that this is one of those parties where just about anything goes, but the host (or hostess) won't tolerate any excessive familiarity unless the recipient is clearly interested. I think these two would have to put up with a lot of offers all night, and so I was curious how they might react to a man who deliberately did *not* pursue them. It seems he's won the cigar.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Who took the picture? Perhaps it was a photographer who the hostess has paid to capture interesting tableaus. There is a sense of coiled promise in this particular layout; even if it were live video, I doubt you would see much more movement than what's captured here. It's all being spoken with body language; all the communication is wordless.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Thanks to <a href="http://advizortoall.blogspot.com/">Advizor</a> for putting together this week's Flash Fiction Friday. Go check him out, won't you, to see who else is playing.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><i>-- PB</i></b></div>
<br />
<br />
The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-84165461903542021702013-01-29T09:36:00.002-06:002013-01-29T09:37:58.384-06:00TMI Tuesday for 1-29-13: "Describe It"<h1 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><b>Describe It</b></span></h1>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://tmituesdayblog.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/all-apologies-record.jpg"><img alt="all apologies record" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-1209" src="http://tmituesdayblog.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/all-apologies-record.jpg?w=640" /></a></div>
<br />
<i><b><span style="color: navy;">1. Describe your or a lover’s penis with a movie title.</span></b></i><br />
<br />
<span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;">Well, since I haven't had any bisexual play yet, I have to describe my own rather than a lover's. <b>"Die Hard"</b></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;">, I think, sums it up pretty well. I have pretty decent stamina, but more than that, I'm pretty much almost always ready to go. And if I'm *not* hard at any given time, it doesn't take more than a few seconds of kissing or stroking to get me there. :)</span></span><br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="color: navy;">2. Describe your pussy or a lover’s pussy with a movie title.</span></b></i><br />
<br />
Since I don't possess one of my own, I have to go with describing my lover's. <b>"Wild Orchid"</b> works for me. They -- and her pussy -- are just lovely.<i><b><span style="color: navy;"> </span></b></i><br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="color: navy;">3. Describe your last sexual encounter with a song title.</span></b></i><b><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;">"Memory Daydreams Lapses" </span></span></b><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;">by the prog-metal project OSI....because it was more than a month and a half ago and I'm starting to forget what sex is like<span style="color: navy;"><i><b>.</b></i></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: navy;"><i><b> </b></i></span></span></span><i><b><span style="color: navy;">4. Describe your body with a song title.</span></b></i><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;">"Comfortably Numb" </span></span></b><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;">by Pink Floyd.</span></span> I'm not numb, but I am quite comfortable with my body and content in my own skin. I want to lose some weight, but I'm working on that.<i><b><span style="color: navy;"> </span></b></i><br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="color: navy;">5. Describe your sexual appetite with a book, song, or movie title.</span></b></i><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;">I'll do better than that -- I'll go all three. For a book, <b>Robert A. Heinlein's "Time Enough for Love", </b>because I feel there should always be time for love, lust and sex in life. </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;">For a song, </span></span><b><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;">"Can't Get Enuff" </span></span></b><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;">by Winger, because my drive is incredibly high. And for a movie, </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span style="color: black;"><b>"Some Like It Hot"</b>, because well, who doesn't love hot sex with a hot partner?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b> Bonus</b></span>: Recommend your favorite sexy, sensual or kink oriented book.<br />
<br />
My favorite sex manual is the dk.com version of the Kama Sutra, "<i>Kama Sutra: Step by Step</i>". Gorgeous models and beautifully illustrated -- very very hot indeed. My favorite series with actual story but lots of sex in it is Jacqueline Carey's first "Kushiel" trilogy.<br />
<br />
————-<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>How to play TMI Tuesday:</b></span> Copy the above <a href="http://tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/">TMI Tuesday</a>
questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there,
then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where
to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to <a href="http://tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/">tmituesdayblog </a>from your website!<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;"><i><b>Happy TMI Tuesday!</b></i></span></div>
The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-84337609079082079352013-01-25T09:30:00.000-06:002013-01-25T09:31:34.880-06:00Flash Fiction Friday 1-25-13: "Lighthaze"<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md6pg8B5gf1rkfo52o1_500.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md6pg8B5gf1rkfo52o1_500.jpg" /></a> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">FFF for Friday Jan 25 </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;">The light was overwhelming. Even through the loosely tied scarf, it permeated her, suffused her. Wrapped loosely in white linen, she breathed steadily, evenly, while he completed his task. Anticipation coiled lazily in her stomach, twisting, twisting. The rough texture of denim on her bare ass only heightened the sensation.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;">She blew a tendril of hair out of her mouth and he smacked her flank lightly. "Hey," he admonished. "I said no movement." She smiled to herself at the tremble in his voice. Betrayed by his own lust.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;">She heard his buckle being undone, then the purr of the zipper. He knelt, straddling her legs. Groaning, he pressed against her. Groaning, he slid home. A small sound escaped her, a soft sigh of acceptance. She planted her hands more firmly against the wall and rocked back against him. Ragged breathing was her only response. Her forehead dropped, pressed against the cool of the headboard, rested there.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;">Abruptly he stiffened, emitted a strangled cry. She felt him flooding into her, and rejoiced.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;">After, he lay alongside her, stroking her lightly. His hands were rough but tender.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;">"I wasn't....too hard on you, was I?" he asked, wanting reassurance. She rolled her eyes behind the blindfold. <i>Barely thirty seconds, </i>she thought, <i>no, I don't think that was too much.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;">But she smiled, and said, "You did fine, honey. We'll try for longer next time."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*************** </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Word = Dark or light (but not both in the same piece)<br />Word Length = 300 for 1, 150 for 2, or 75 for 3<br />Extra Credit = Where did she go to college?</span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">Director's commentary:</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">I absolutely love the lighting of this shot. Something about the way the guy in this photo is fumbling with the knots and the posture of her body suggested an inexperienced guy who wants to play around with some bondage. I thought I'd have some fun with the idea that he got so excited by it that he only lasted a short time. Who's the woman? Is she his girlfriend? His wife? His mistress? A call girl? You decide. To me, she's his wife, indulging him and turned on by the idea, but a little disappointed at the execution. Well, not everything in the bedroom works out perfectly. That's why you practice until you get it right for all participants. :)</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">Where did she go to college? She looks like a Vassar girl to me. Don't ask me why.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">Thanks to <a href="http://advizortoall.blogspot.com/2013/01/fff-jan-25.html">Advizor</a> for putting this one together. If you want to see who else is playing, <a href="http://advizortoall.blogspot.com/2013/01/fff-jan-25.html">drop by his page</a>.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-size: medium;">Happy FFF!<b> </b></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>-- PB</b></span></i></div>
The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-78624422219603847022013-01-22T10:49:00.000-06:002013-01-22T13:50:05.778-06:00TMI Tuesday for 1/22/13<h5>
<span style="color: grey;"><i>Thanks to an anonymous TMI Tuesday fan and lurker for this week’s <a href="http://tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: grey;">TMI Tuesday</span></a> questions.</i></span></h5>
<b><span style="color: blue;">Complete each sentence with an anecdote of sexual adventure or misadventure:</span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"><i>1. The first time I . . .</i> realized I might be bisexual, or at least bi-curious, was about two years ago when I was watching a porn clip from somewhere or other, with a girl giving some random guy a blowjob and handjob, and I realized I was spending more time admiring the guy's cock than what she was doing with it. He really had a nice one -- long, smooth, beautiful, pubic hair trimmed very short, shaved balls. I discovered I was fantasizing about what it might be like to lick that big rod, to take his balls in my mouth, to suck on that bulbous head. My own cock was painfully hard at the prospect. "Well now," I thought. "Isn't that interesting."</span><i><span style="color: black;"> </span></i><br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: black;">2. The last time I . . . </span></i><span style="color: black;">had sex was sometime in early December. Not by my choice, but because my girlfriend's drive is so low these days. This is why I have this journal -- to provide an outlet for the fantasies and drive that is still insatiable on my part. :)</span><br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: black;">3. The only time I . . . </span></i><span style="color: black;">ever </span><span style="color: black;">ran away </span><span style="color: black;">from somebody who expressed interest in <i>me</i> was in my college days. I may write about this one in more detail sometime; "The One That Got Away" or something. She was in a psych class I was taking and I thought she was lovely, so I asked her out. To my surprise, she said yes. We went out for dinner and it was going quite well; she seemed very interested in and involved with me. And then I found out she had a kid. I'm ashamed to say I ended the date not long after that, and never called her or talked to her again. What a jackass I was back then. Having a kid doesn't mean you can't date, for fuck'</span>s sake.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: black;">4. My best . . . </span></i><span style="color: black;">blowjob was one I got one night from Melissa, <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/02/panserhistory-part-3-melissa_02.html">about whom I've written in more detail here</a>. I don't know what was so special about that one incident, but she just drove me absolutely out of my skull with pleasure that particular time, bringing me to the edge and back over and over, sucking me long and slow, pumping me with her fist once in a while. It went on for almost twenty minutes, I think, and by the time she finished with me <b>everything </b>in my body was tingling, currents of pleasure running all over me. Her mouth was so hot, so wet, the suction so strong but still so velvety soft. My brain was whirling. I was moaning helplessly, calling her name, grabbing fistsful of the bedsheets, stupefied by lust. When I finally came I unloaded what felt like a gallon of cum down her throat. She swallowed every drop and then swirled her tongue around me until I was completely clean. Then she started caressing me again, and ten minutes later she had me hard again and was riding me in cowgirl....but that's another story.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"><i>5. My worst . . . </i>sexual experience was my first one-night stand. I wrote about it in more detail <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/panserhistory-part-6-michelle.html">here, when I talked about Michelle</a>. I'm not averse to other one-night stands, but it would have to be with somebody that I had more of a connection with than that.</span><br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: red;"><b> BONUS</b>:</span> Everyone, however much experienced, still has some unfulfilled desires. What is at the top of your yet-to-do list?</span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I've got a huge "want to do" list, but I think the thing that's currently highest on the list is a threesome, either a MMF threesome or a MFF threesome. I think I'd like to start with a MFF but with the right participants, an MMF could be nice too. See above re: bi-curious. :) </span><br />
<br />
————-<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>How to play TMI Tuesday:</b></span> Copy the above <a href="http://tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/">TMI Tuesday</a>
questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there,
then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where
to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to <a href="http://tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/">tmituesdayblog </a>from your website!<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;"><i><b>Happy TMI Tuesday!</b></i></span></div>
The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-35607275908787321502013-01-19T12:22:00.001-06:002013-01-22T13:48:56.911-06:00DownpourIt was a hell of a surprise, you know.<br />
<br />
I tend to take my showers in the mornings, and of course (since you generally sleep like a rock and have to be dragged out of bed even when it's noon already) you generally don't even know about it until I've finished and am already drying off. So it was one hell of a shock when I shut the spray off and was busily lathering myself, getting all slick and slippery, and turned around to see you watching me from around the corner of the doorway.<br />
<br />
I might have twitched violently. Might even have jumped backwards in shock and cracked my head against the wall. I'd never admit to that, of course. But I<b> <i>was</i></b> startled, and that must have been fairly obvious from your fit of giggles. "Oh my," you said, grinning. "Did I scare you?"<br />
<br />
The look on my face must have made any reply unnecessary. "Well, let's see if I can make it up to you," you said, and came the rest of the way into the room, and I saw that you were as naked as I. There was another surprise -- I don't see you walking around without clothes much, because you know it's bound to result in me pouncing, every single time -- but I had no time to worry about hows or whys, seeing you sashay across the tile floor, breasts swaying, licking your lips. I felt my cock twitch -- it was already semi-hard from when I'd been lathering up and stroking myself a bit -- and then it wilted a little when you opened the shower door and the colder air rushed in. "Aack! That's cold!" I complained, and you put a finger to my lips. "Shush. No talky now. Is time for the sexings."<br />
<br />
Well, now. How could I possibly complain about that? Not for the first time, I reflected how lucky I was, as you leaned forward, rubbing yourself against me, getting yourself wet and soapy as well. "Not enough," you decided, and turned on the shower again. Hot water blasted over both of us, rinsing some of the suds down between us, but only long enough to get you all wet and shiny. You shut the spray off again, then took the shower gel and poured a generous helping all over your tits. "Get me nice and clean, baby?" you begged in a little-girl voice, and wow! did that ever turn my crank. Far be it from me to refuse a lady's request, so of course I had to start fondling and squeezing and soaping those lovely breasts, my hands running all over your torso, getting you all lathered and slick. You moaned and your own hands went to work, running up and down my body as well, encouraging my cock to rise again, working up plenty more lather to replace whatever had been rinsed away by the brief spray.<br />
<br />
You slid your hands lower, wrapping them quite firmly around my cock. "My favorite toy," you breathed, and began to stroke me in a steady, insistent rhythm that left no doubt about the eventual end. My breath was already coming fast at the novelty of the whole situation and I still couldn't quite believe I was here, with a hot woman in the shower squeezing and stroking my soapy cock, rubbing herself against me, suds all over her and dripping slowly down her body.<br />
<br />
Suddenly you knelt in front of me. Not for the first time I was grateful for that nice soft shower mat. I thought at first you were going to take me in your mouth, and opened my own mouth to protest -- I might want to wash your mouth out, but not with soap -- but then realized immediately you had something else in mind. You leaned forward and wrapped both of those tits around my cock, sliding me up and down, in and out of that magnificent valley. I groaned with lust. The sensation was indescribable. Slithering and slipping, hardness wrapped by softness. I closed my eyes and leaned back, and heard a quiet but firm "No" from you; opening my eyes again, I saw that impish grin you do so well. "No," you repeated. "I want you to see me titty-fucking you. I want you to see me getting you off. I want you to watch as you paint my tits with your cum."<br />
<br />
You licked your lips, and increased your pace, squeezing together more tightly around my heated cock. "And baby, I want it now."<br />
<br />
I moaned your name, my legs and torso tingling. It felt like electricity was running along every nerve ending, starting at my head and feet and being drawn downward and upward towards my center, my whole existence funnelling inward to the sensation of my cock sliding between your tits. I felt myself begin to tremble, and my breath grew more ragged. "Oh," I moaned, and you moaned back. "Yes, baby. That's it. Come for me. Come <b><i>on </i></b>me. Squirt that hot cum between my soapy tits. I need some good skin cream." You speeded up just a bit more, eyes still locked on mine, mischief dancing in their depths. "Be a good boy and come for me, lover. I want it now."<br />
<br />
I gasped and shook and shouted your name as I blasted off without any warning at all. It hit me like a highballing freight train, pleasure exploding all through me even as I exploded between your tits. My cum mixed with the suds and water and lather, creating a hot, sticky mess which you promptly began rubbing all over yourself. When I had no more to give, you wrapped your hands around me and stroked upward, milking a last few drops out to land on the tips of your nipples.<br />
<br />
"Good boy," you said softly. And turned on the shower again, and the hot water poured over us, washing some of the sticky mess down between us, but doing nothing to dampen my arousal. Somehow, I was still hard. I reached for your hand, and pulled you to your feet, and you grinned, and hooked a leg around my ass, spreading yourself for me. Hot, you were so hot, slick with excitement, slick with suds, slick with sweat. I slid into you and you moaned and I moaned and you leaned back against the wall, bracing yourself, readying yourself for the invasion, awaiting the pounding we both knew we needed now, fitting yourself to me with practiced skill and lustful, hungry hoyden joy.<br />
<br />
Soon we would need another cleanup period. Hazily, rocking in and out of you with hard sharp thrusts, I wondered if we would even make it out of the shower at all today.The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-80172234540710947752013-01-07T09:25:00.000-06:002013-01-22T13:49:14.327-06:00In the Arms of Morpheus, In Your ArmsThe war movie "Johnny Got His Gun" is a soul-shattering experience for many. It sticks in the mind for many reasons, not the least of which is the psychological hell that would be caused by loss of all your physical faculties while your mental processes remained alert and very much aware. One quote from the movie has especially stuck with me over the years, though: "How can you tell what's a dream and what's real when you can't even tell when you're awake and when you're asleep?"<br />
<br />
It was like that for me this morning, you know. For much different and considerably more pleasant reasons.<br />
<br />
I was floating, drifting, wandering in a pleasant haze. Clouds passed over and through me and I was borne aloft on warm breezes. Far below me I saw a landscape of indescribable beauty, rolling hills and valleys, mountains with snow-capped tips, lush forests and rushing cataracts. My spirit sang at the sight. Indeed, I was feeling pleasure radiating outward from my core, buoying me up effortlessly, the good feelings crackling along every nerve ending.<br />
<br />
Slowly things shifted and turned, and I sideslipped along another plane of existence. The pleasure intensified, becoming more localized. I felt dim sensations: warmth building to heat, gentle tingling, a velvety smoothness, a slick friction of some kind. They intensified as the pleasure built. Reality reassembled itself, building blocks falling into place, solidifying to the here and now.<br />
<br />
Which was that your lips were wrapped around my cock and you were sucking on me gently but insistently.<br />
<br />
My eyes flew open in shock and then almost immediately closed again as the sensations swept over me and carried me away. Never had I felt such exquisite points of pleasure. There was no time to wonder how you'd pulled the covers off without awakening me, what had possessed you to awaken me like this, or even how in the hell you'd gotten here in the first place. It's very difficult to think coherent thoughts when a woman has your cock in her mouth.<br />
<br />
And so consciousness coalesced around the delight I felt: heat, gentle suction, a most insistent tongue curling around my shaft and concentrating on the head. Your soft fingers stroked me up and down, tenderly but with firm authority. I moaned, the first sound I had managed, and was rewarded with a humming "Mmmmm" from you, my cock never slipping free. Your hair whispered along my belly, your hands caressed my thighs and fondled my balls. Your mouth worked with slow passion, teasing me, gorging me with blood and desire. I felt myself throb intensely with each hard thump of my heart.<br />
<br />
The sounds of lust: wet "shlick" and "sploop" sounds as you sucked me, slowly, your mouth moving from head to the base of my shaft, my ragged breathing as the pleasure built, my helpless moans of desire, your soft musical humming. I began to raise my hips, slightly, involuntarily, and heard/felt you giggle to yourself, knowing I was completely and utterly lost, in your control.<br />
<br />
And then you pulled back. My cock slid free, rigid as a post, throbbing angrily. I gasped as your tongue dragged over the crown, swirling round it, bringing fresh beads of desire, glistening pearly white. You grinned the most impish grin I had ever seen and only then did I realize you were as naked as I. Slowly, slowly, you crept forward, your skin sliding against mine, your hard nipples scoring trails along my chest as you undulated along my length. You straddled me. Your thighs grabbed me with no doubt about who was in charge here. You looked down imperiously, eyes glinting with mischief and delight. You raised those hips. Your hands caressed your own skin, fondling your breasts. You tweaked your nipples and sighed softly as your hands moved lower, ever downward. Your hand wrapped around my rigid length, angling it, pointing me to your own requirements. More heat, more wetness: slick and ready, you enveloped me before I could even blink, and just like that we were connected, so intimately, so deeply.<br />
<br />
You sighed again, this time in words: my name. It sounded like a blessing. With a soft gasp I called your own, the word almost lost in a moan of pure need as you began to move slowly, excruciatingly slowly. You leaned forward, your breasts pressed against my chest, and rained kisses on my neck, my throat. Your tongue tasted my pulse, explored my earlobe. I felt your breath, hot and insistent. My hands went to cup and squeeze your ass, helping you fit yourself to me. Slowly, so slowly, you rose and fell above me. I raised my head to capture a nipple with lips and tongue and was rewarded with moans of your own. Steadily, rhythmically, you drove me onward. Steadily, rhythmically, I was driven higher, the pleasure building, the tempo increasing. My breath came faster. Your velvet walls gripped me, molding me, shaping me for our ecstasy. Your hair swung forward, obscuring your face, but those eyes glinted, glinted. A ghost of a smile from you: you leaned forward, palms on my chest, bracing yourself for harder, faster, rocking and grinding. Your touch seared my skin. Head whirling, every nerve flamed with delight, I could only gasp and moan, helpless to resist the tide, the inevitable burst of heat and light and color, the brilliant nova that sent me over the edge......<br />
<br />
.........and then I raised my head, and looked around. The sheets were tangled, my pillow askew, my cock throbbing steadily in a pool of precum. I touched myself: stickier than I should be. The memory of your kisses, the taste of your tongue, the feel of your hot cunt, wouldn't leave me alone, insisted they had been real. I dropped my head to the pillow, and sighed bitterly. Never have I been so disappointed to return to the real world from a dream.<br />
<br />
<b><i>-- PB</i></b>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-71844967834534678332013-01-03T15:25:00.001-06:002013-01-22T13:47:04.912-06:00to drive the cold winter awaybitter, arctic breezes<br />
bleak, sullen skies, numb and tasteless<br />
leaves skitter and skirl in gyres of whimsy<br />
they are so very far from the truth:<br />
<br />
that in the heat of your gaze<br />
the sensual agony of your touch<br />
the fire in your mouth<br />
the feel of your breasts<br />
the endless depth of your pussy<br />
the shrieks of your passion<br />
you drive the cold<br />
and the dark<br />
and the winter<br />
so very far away<br />
<br />
shifting, melding forms<br />
slippery with sweat<br />
your body shaped by my touch,<br />
curved, arching, spreading, lifting to accept me<br />
i taste the mulled wine on your tongue <br />
carpet rough on our skin<br />
b-tribe pulsing softly on the stereo<br />
rolling over and over, slowly, entangled more and more deeply<br />
<br />
i plunge deep<br />
you sip air<br />
we move in rhythms old as time,<br />
clutching at each other<br />
glowing with delighted wonder<br />
knowing it can never last<br />
but knowing we can always find this place again<br />
this delicious dance<br />
this more perfect union<br />
this ocean of joy in a wintry storm<br />
<br />
<b><i>-- PB</i></b><br />
<br />
<br />The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-82267310578156006562012-12-26T14:43:00.000-06:002013-01-22T13:49:49.637-06:00The Nutcracker Sweet"C'mon, hon, we're going to be late," he called.<br />
<br />
"Just a minute longer, love.....there! Okay, I'm ready." She emerged from the bathroom, posing artfully before his admiring gaze.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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."<br />
<br />
He swallowed hard and followed her out the door, carefully adjusting himself to avoid embarrassment in public.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
**********************</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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.<br />
<br />
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.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
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.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
How he loved her!<br />
<br />
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.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And then he felt her hand on his thigh. <i>That</i> was new.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<i> </i><br />
<br />
<br />
<i>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.</i><br />
<br />
<i> </i><b><i>-- PB</i></b></div>
The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-79119414720284008052012-05-25T00:01:00.000-05:002012-05-25T00:01:00.228-05:00Flash Fiction Friday 5-25-12: "Auto-Eroticism"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eyCA9HFdnDg/T7pIdNu1QUI/AAAAAAAAAUc/tR3wmQiNT4Q/s1600/hillarybybradleythurber.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eyCA9HFdnDg/T7pIdNu1QUI/AAAAAAAAAUc/tR3wmQiNT4Q/s400/hillarybybradleythurber.jpg" width="267" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>(Source image: "Hillary" by <a href="http://www.bradleythurber.com/">Bradley Thurber</a>)</i></div>
<br />
<br />
<b><i></i></b><br />
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.<br />
<br />
"So," she said, looking at me calmly. "How long's
it going to be?"<br />
<br />
"Before what?"<br />
<br />
"Before you make your move, you adorable idiot. You knew we
wouldn't see anything up here, not with it raining like this."<br />
<br />
"Um. Well, I....."<br />
<br />
"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.<br />
<br />
She looked up and grinned at me, letting me slip free. "That's
better," she breathed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xJs1KYG7ZAM/S5FwbwZJgVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/R9fQA9kAu48/s320/fff2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html"><i>(Click for details on FFF!)</i></a></div>
<br />
<i>Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of <b>100-135 words</b>. Additionally, I provided a key phrase I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>"...the scent of [noun]..."</b></i><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>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).</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:</b></i><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>I've always wanted to have sex in a car, but none of my partners has ever been interested. Maybe some day.</i><i> 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".</i><br />
<br />
<i>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.</i><br />
<br />
<i>In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.</i><br />
<br />
<script src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=insatiabear&postid=25May2012" type="text/javascript">
</script><br />
<br />
<i>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.<b> </b></i><br />
<br />
<i><b>-- PB</b></i>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-37506290582346006592012-05-21T08:55:00.003-05:002012-05-21T08:55:58.768-05:00Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 5-25-12<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eyCA9HFdnDg/T7pIdNu1QUI/AAAAAAAAAUc/tR3wmQiNT4Q/s1600/hillarybybradleythurber.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eyCA9HFdnDg/T7pIdNu1QUI/AAAAAAAAAUc/tR3wmQiNT4Q/s400/hillarybybradleythurber.jpg" width="267" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>(Source image: "Hillary" by <a href="http://www.bradleythurber.com/">Bradley Thurber</a>)</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
Your challenge for this Friday, 5-25-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of <b>100-135 words</b>. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:</div>
<br />
<b><i>"...the scent of [noun]..."</i></b><br />
<br />
As usual, nobody's checking word counts, or the key phrase, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. <i>Unless</i> you're breaking them to earn a spanking....in which case, see me after class.<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
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 <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html">Flash Fiction Friday FAQ</a> if you'd rather do that. <b><i>Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/">http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/</a>, or to the FAQ.</i></b> That <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html">Flash Fiction Friday FAQ</a>
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.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xJs1KYG7ZAM/S5FwbwZJgVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/R9fQA9kAu48/s320/fff2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html"><i>(Click for details on FFF!)</i></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<i><b> </b><b>-- PB</b></i>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-47361209899365887672012-05-18T00:01:00.000-05:002012-05-18T00:01:00.687-05:00Flash Fiction Friday 5-18-12: "Damn the Consequences"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7hZC33xfzlc/T7D85wFFBnI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/2UbAI_LS11A/s1600/onthestairsbysamanthawolov.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7hZC33xfzlc/T7D85wFFBnI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/2UbAI_LS11A/s400/onthestairsbysamanthawolov.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>(Image source: "On the Stairs" by <a href="http://www.samanthawolov.com/">Samantha Wolov</a>)</i></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“Take me upstairs,” she'd said. We hadn't even made it halfway.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xJs1KYG7ZAM/S5FwbwZJgVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/R9fQA9kAu48/s320/fff2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html"><i>(Click for details on FFF!)</i></a></div>
<br />
<i>Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of <b>68-122 words</b>. Additionally, I provided a key phrase I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>"...rough and scratchy..."</b></i><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>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).</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:</b></i><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>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).</i><br />
<br />
<i>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.</i><br />
<br />
<i>In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.</i><br />
<br />
<script src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=insatiabear&postid=18May2012" type="text/javascript">
</script><br />
<br />
<i>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.<b> </b></i><br />
<br />
<i><b>-- PB</b></i>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-82461728451757536512012-05-14T07:40:00.001-05:002012-05-14T07:41:57.580-05:00Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 5-18-12<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7hZC33xfzlc/T7D85wFFBnI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/2UbAI_LS11A/s1600/onthestairsbysamanthawolov.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7hZC33xfzlc/T7D85wFFBnI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/2UbAI_LS11A/s400/onthestairsbysamanthawolov.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>(Image source: "On the Stairs" by <a href="http://www.samanthawolov.com/">Samantha Wolov</a>)</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
Your challenge for this Friday, 5-18-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of <b>68-122 words</b>. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:</div>
<br />
<b><i>"...rough and scratchy..."</i></b><br />
<br />
As usual, nobody's checking word counts, or the key phrase, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. <i>Unless</i> you're breaking them to earn a spanking....in which case, see me after class.<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
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 <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html">Flash Fiction Friday FAQ</a> if you'd rather do that. <b><i>Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/">http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/</a>, or to the FAQ.</i></b> That <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html">Flash Fiction Friday FAQ</a>
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.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xJs1KYG7ZAM/S5FwbwZJgVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/R9fQA9kAu48/s320/fff2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html"><i>(Click for details on FFF!)</i></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<i><b> </b><b>-- PB</b></i>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-994565186301815472012-05-11T00:01:00.000-05:002012-05-11T00:01:00.074-05:00Flash Fiction Friday 5-11-12: "Foreign Affairs"<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_-gsS6jD3sg/T6fIfSjOXCI/AAAAAAAAAUA/z6lGrJkwVcA/s1600/photo-2065fromlexi.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_-gsS6jD3sg/T6fIfSjOXCI/AAAAAAAAAUA/z6lGrJkwVcA/s400/photo-2065fromlexi.jpg" width="325" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>(<span style="font-size: small;">Source image unknown; provided some time ago by <a href="http://lex-ploits.blogspot.com/">the lovely Lexi</a></span></i><span style="font-size: small;">)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Summer in a strange country, wandering the streets, penniless,
lost and dejected. I strolled aimlessly, not knowing what I sought.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I was still lost, but at least I'd found this.<br />
<b><i><br />
</i></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xJs1KYG7ZAM/S5FwbwZJgVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/R9fQA9kAu48/s320/fff2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html"><i>(Click for details on FFF!)</i></a></div>
<br />
<i>Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of <b>less than 100 words</b>. Additionally, I provided a key phrase I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>"...a hint of mischief..."</b></i><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>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).</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:</b></i><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>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.</i><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>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.</i><br />
<br />
<i>In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.</i><br />
<br />
<script src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=insatiabear&postid=11May2012" type="text/javascript">
</script><br />
<br />
<i>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.<b> Thanks to <a href="http://lex-ploits.blogspot.com/">Lexi</a> for providing this week's photo!</b></i><br />
<br />
<i><b>-- PB</b></i>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-70124991728975737792012-05-07T08:07:00.000-05:002012-05-07T08:07:19.898-05:00Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 5-11-12<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Iiiiiiiiiiii'm back!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_-gsS6jD3sg/T6fIfSjOXCI/AAAAAAAAAUA/z6lGrJkwVcA/s1600/photo-2065fromlexi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_-gsS6jD3sg/T6fIfSjOXCI/AAAAAAAAAUA/z6lGrJkwVcA/s400/photo-2065fromlexi.jpg" width="325" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>(Source image unknown, provided a long time ago by the lovely <a href="http://lex-ploits.blogspot.com/">Lexi</a>)</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
Your challenge for this Friday, 5-11-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of <b>less than 100 words</b>. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:</div>
<br />
<b><i>"...a hint of mischief..."</i></b><br />
<br />
As usual, nobody's checking word counts, or the key phrase, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. <i>Unless</i> you're breaking them to earn a spanking....in which case, see me after class.<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
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 <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html">Flash Fiction Friday FAQ</a> if you'd rather do that. <b><i>Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/">http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/</a>, or to the FAQ.</i></b> That <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html">Flash Fiction Friday FAQ</a>
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.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xJs1KYG7ZAM/S5FwbwZJgVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/R9fQA9kAu48/s320/fff2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html"><i>(Click for details on FFF!)</i></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
<i><b> </b><b>-- PB</b></i>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-64077479310796182282012-04-27T08:30:00.001-05:002012-04-27T08:30:37.831-05:00not dead, merely sleeping"The report of my death was an exaggeration." -- Mark Twain<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<b><i>-- PB</i></b>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-54391352504579269562012-03-16T00:01:00.001-05:002012-03-16T00:01:01.260-05:00Flash Fiction Friday 3-16-12: "Our Place Always Smelt of Roses"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bgZrcrnlv2g/T13_Yf8cBtI/AAAAAAAAAT0/X0NfSGN7GI0/s1600/forbiddenembracebyigorvasiliadis.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bgZrcrnlv2g/T13_Yf8cBtI/AAAAAAAAAT0/X0NfSGN7GI0/s400/forbiddenembracebyigorvasiliadis.JPG" width="267" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>(Source image: "Forbidden Embrace" by <a href="http://www.vasiliadis.ru/">Igor Vasiliadis</a>)</i></div><b><i><br />
</i></b><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"It's hopeless, then?"</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"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."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"I don't know. I love you, but I don't want to get popped into one of Creedy's black bags, either."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">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."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">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.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Forbidden or not, there was just no way they could deny this intensity, this connection.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This love.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xJs1KYG7ZAM/S5FwbwZJgVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/R9fQA9kAu48/s320/fff2.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html"><i>(Click for details on FFF!)</i></a></div><br />
<i>Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of <b>not more than 160 words</b>. Additionally, I provided a key word I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>"...hopeless..."</b></i><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>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).</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:</b></i><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>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 "<b>V for Vendetta</b>", 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.</i><br />
<br />
<i>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.</i><br />
<br />
<i>In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.</i><br />
<br />
<script src="http://www.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=insatiabear&postid=16Mar2012" type="text/javascript">
</script><br />
<br />
<b><i>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.</i></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<i><b>-- PB</b></i>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-24278292807835990342012-03-12T08:54:00.000-05:002012-03-12T08:54:24.701-05:00Flash Fiction Friday Challenge for 3-16-12<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bgZrcrnlv2g/T13_Yf8cBtI/AAAAAAAAAT0/X0NfSGN7GI0/s1600/forbiddenembracebyigorvasiliadis.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bgZrcrnlv2g/T13_Yf8cBtI/AAAAAAAAAT0/X0NfSGN7GI0/s400/forbiddenembracebyigorvasiliadis.JPG" width="267" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>(Source image: "Forbidden Embrace" by <a href="http://www.vasiliadis.ru/">Igor Vasiliadis</a>)</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
Your challenge for this Friday, 3-16-12, is to use the picture above to write a flash fiction of <b>no more than 160 words</b>. I would also like you to please use this phrase in your submission:</div><br />
<b><i>"...hopeless..."</i></b><br />
<br />
As usual, nobody's checking word counts, or the key phrase, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. <i>Unless</i> you're breaking them to earn a spanking....in which case, see me after class.<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
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 <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html">Flash Fiction Friday FAQ</a> if you'd rather do that. <b><i>Please do provide a link back to either the challenge post, to my main page at <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/">http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/</a>, or to the FAQ.</i></b> That <a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html">Flash Fiction Friday FAQ</a> 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.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xJs1KYG7ZAM/S5FwbwZJgVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/R9fQA9kAu48/s320/fff2.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html"><i>(Click for details on FFF!)</i></a></div><br />
<b><i>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.</i></b><br />
<br />
<i><b> </b><b>-- PB</b></i>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689622098160989072.post-37937516298356469252012-02-17T00:01:00.002-06:002012-02-17T00:01:00.051-06:00Flash Fiction Friday 2-17-12: "A Ballet on Silk Sheets"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iu3Xu8VoxHw/TzpylPcwkfI/AAAAAAAAATo/Esc3uL7k9kM/s1600/minabast17byminabast.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iu3Xu8VoxHw/TzpylPcwkfI/AAAAAAAAATo/Esc3uL7k9kM/s400/minabast17byminabast.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>(Source image: unknown title, photo by <a href="http://www.minabastphotography.com/">Mina Bast</a>)</i></div><br />
"Now," she said. "Take me now. The rose is nice, and the dinner was excellent, but now I want dessert."<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Afterwards we lay, spent, tangled together, hearts hammering. She sighed softly, contented.<br />
<br />
"Happy Valentine's Day, love," I murmured.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xJs1KYG7ZAM/S5FwbwZJgVI/AAAAAAAAAH0/R9fQA9kAu48/s320/fff2.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/2010/03/flash-fiction-friday-faq.html"><i>(Click for details on FFF!)</i></a></div><br />
<i>Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of <b>less than 100 words</b>. Additionally, I provided a key word I wanted to see used somewhere in the submission:</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>"...folded..."</b></i><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>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).</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>Special Bonus Director's Commentary Track:</b></i><i> </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>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.</i><br />
<b><i></i></b><br />
<br />
<i>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.</i><br />
<br />
<i>In any case, the participants list is below. Go check them out, and thanks to all who played along.</i><br />
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<b><i>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. </i></b><br />
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<i><b>-- PB</b></i>The Panserbjørnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10643891392421573706noreply@blogger.com3