• Experience,  Opinion

    10 things I like about swinging

    Okay…time to flip the coin and see what’s on the other side.  Thursday’s post…“10 things I hate about swinging” wouldn’t be able to stand on it’s own without it’s very necessary counterpart. 1)  Dating with my best friend, confidant, protector, lover, and Daddy is a rather special experience.  I hate dating (as I’ve made pretty clear), but if you have to do it…doing it with that kind of support is amazing.  You develop your own little codes and can read each others body language to make all kinds of decisions without the other couple even knowing you are communicating.  It definitely draws a strong couple together in more ways than one.…

  • Fiction

    Suspicion

      Flash Fiction Friday (click HERE to see the other entries!)   Word Length = 356 (I went hideously over the limit and should be severely punished) Required word = suspicion Forbidden words = Soap, hard, officer, effigy Bonus words (25) = Who’s the sexiest cop on TV?  (I don’t watch TV much…I liked Magnum P.I.  – he was pretty fricking hot in those little white shorts…and Johnny Depp in 21 Jump Street – yep – I’m aging myself – and I was completely in love with the guys from Miami Vice…do Charlie’s Angels count?) Extra Credit (25) = Confess to a crime you committed (I’ve run a few red lights… I speed on a…

  • Experience,  Opinion

    10 things I hate about swinging

    First, and foremost…I apologize if this is a bit of a rambling post.  I’ve written it freestyle so it’s pretty stream-of-consciousness.  Bear with me.  Also, I plan to explore the 10 things I like about swinging in a later post.  So, no worries.  There are pros and cons to every issue, right? 1)  It doesn’t come naturally, sexually speaking. I’m hard to please.  I can admit that.  I’m also hard to get off…for anyone but my husband – who seems to have the magic orgasm wand when it comes to my pussy.  It’s no wonder, then, that I HAD to have him, keep him, and make him my own –…

  • Fiction

    The Proposition

    She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled.  She could hardly wait to give it away. As she moved onto the dance floor, she scanned the crowd for just the right, unsuspecting recipient.  Her eyes landed on a few possibilities, processing their assets and considering their worth, but it wasn’t until they found “him” that she knew, with certainty, that she’d found her target. She slipped through the throng of writhing bodies, plastered with sweat and drenched in a heightened scent of need, and casually bumped into him.  He turned, absentmindedly to see who was behind him.  Her bright-red, see-through, stretch-lace shirt…the black bra beneath – clearly visible.…

  • Fiction

    The Phone Call (FFF)

    Flash Fiction Friday! Required phrase – “Answer it” Forbidden words – orgasm Word Length – 661 Ex. Credit – Tell us who’s calling The phone rang. Angie groaned in annoyance and nudged Mason, “You’d better answer it.  If I do, it could be the end of the world as you know it.” “Ignore it,” he said in a sleepy and unworried way, “She’ll give up soon enough.” But it kept ringing. Ten, eleven, twelve times. “I think you are the last person on the planet without an answering machine,” Angie mocked Mason’s old-fashioned ways whenever she had the chance. “Or a cell phone,” he added. “It’s easier to hide that…

  • Fiction

    FFF – Independence Day

      Key Word – Independence or Independence Day Word Limit – 237 (exactly!) Forbidden Word – Fireworks (check) Extra Credit – Put the action on July 5 She looked at the parking lot full of cars, people mingling around and through them to get to the doors of the church.  All that polyester and wool.  Men and women held tightly by conformity.  So put together. She looked down at her own formal attire.  The expected white dress, simple and unimpressive….just like Michael. How had she let it get this far?  The unspoken words screamed in her head, and she began to feel more and more confined by the whole thing. Suddenly she felt suffocated by the satin and taffeta.  She reached back into the unassuming black car that had brought her here, grabbed the bottle of champagne meant for afterwards, and only one glass. She took them with her to the grassy area behind the church, took off the dress, hung it on a limb, and walked towards a shady area behind a rock by the stream. Stretched out on the damp green, she felt it cool beneath her bare skin, and felt as if she could breathe again. Michael would never understand this side of her.  He’d spend his whole life trying to cover her up. She popped the cork, and let the champagne bubble over into her lap, holding it there, between her thighs…

  • Blogging & Writing,  Experience,  Opinion

    Confessional Writing: Self-Indulgent Narcissism or Legitimate Art?

    “True confession consists in telling our deed in such a way that our soul is changed in the telling of it.” – Maude Petre Confessional writing.  I believe the coin may have been termed before Anais Nin, but I’m fairly certain she made it famous.  And it’s gotten a lot of flack since.  Auto-biography (the simple telling of one’s story to document experience) turned to memoir (the crafting of one’s story in such a way that it centers on a theme) turned to “creative non-fiction”(a highly stylized literary version of memoir that relies on all of the literary devices of fiction and poetry).  Be assured, these are my interpretations of the…

  • Experience

    A (Porn) Star is Born?

    Well…not really.  But Daddy did film us having sex last night – which was a first (I know, I know…we’re behind the times – but it isn’t for lack of his trying…I just have an aversion to being filmed).  And, since I was blindfolded, I had no idea he was doing it (he says it was so I would act naturally and not be self-conscious about the camera – good call, Daddy). And I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised.  It’s not that I don’t think I’m attractive, but the camera can be so unkind – and really…sexual positions are not always that flattering. When we were done, and…

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