• Experience

    We’re all mad here…

    I haven’t written in awhile. I write that statement as if you haven’t noticed. As if it isn’t simply painfully obvious. Actually, I write that statement as more of a guilty admission…sort of a “Forgive me Father for I have sinned…” opener. It’s the beginning of a confession. I’ve been feeling raw. For some time. And I didn’t quite understand it until just a few days ago. So, let me go there…and peel back a few layers. I don’t know how deep this will go, but I’m willing if you are. Sometimes, it’s just time for a little opening, even if it stings. Awhile back, I asked for some erotic…

  • Experience

    Asking for What I Want

    He came to bed late, slipped in beside me and, rather than folding himself around me like, he pulled me to him, facing him. I buried my face in his neck, savoring the smell of him, wondering what was up. We don’t sleep this way, but I was willing to follow whatever was happening. I nuzzled his chin and chest, and snuggled in, and then he pulled away and lay on his back, his legs still wrapped in mine. It’s been over two weeks since we had sex. We had an argument then, and when that happens, when something like that trips up our streak, we are usually derailed, and…

  • Experience

    Yoga and D/s (revisited)

    It’s been some time since I wrote about my personal life, something that used to be somewhat of a trademark for me as a blogger. There are a few reasons for that. Some negative things have happened, and I don’t want to complain or seem like I’m bitching. I also find that my fiction is not only received more positively (duh) and elicits more comments and interaction, but also that it is easier to hide behind, even in my real life. So, I’m taking a break from erotica tonight to delve into the current state of affairs in my marriage, specifically the power dynamic, which we are struggling to define…

  • Fiction

    That’s Why I Do It

    The call came from across the house, muffled and distant, “Hey, babe…can you gimme a hand?!!” I don’t like being interrupted. He knows that. It’s why he does it. I got up from my writing and padded abrasively across the hardwood floor toward the the location from which I assumed his voice was coming. The bedroom. There he lay, shirtless, jeans unzipped, cock exposed, a Cheshire cat grin on his unshaven face. I love his cock. I love tasting it, touching it, holding it, riding it. And I can’t say no to it. He knows that. It’s why he does this. I slipped my loose sweatshirt over my head, stepped…

  • Fiction,  Photography

    In Memoriam

    I couldn’t find an appropriate image for this story, so I decided to create one myself. It worked out well, since I haven’t posted a Sinful Sunday image in quite awhile. So the feedback and results have been posted for Smut Marathon round 5. The prompt was to take a story from the previous round (a masturbation scene involving a toy) and re-write it from the perspective of the toy. I wasn’t looking forward to it, and it took me at least a week to even select a story. Once I did, it took a few drafts to come up with something I was pretty okay with. I definitely agreed…

  • Brigit's Favorite Things

    Top Three of the Week

    #1: “Getting Down Dog and Dirty” by Quentin Wilderman – I tried to find this writer online, but all I could dig up was a link to his book Taint Nothing Like the Real Thing (only 99 cents) on Amazon. I found this story in my Twitter feed, and read it with my morning coffee. It definitely hit all my buttons and made my day a little brighter. Great dialogue, description, and so so hot! #2: “Window Shopping” by Zebra Rose. This is a new blog to me, which is partially why I want to highlight it in my top 3. But, the story definitely earns its place. If voyeurism is your…

  • Fiction

    Black and Silent

    The world was black and silent. Grace breathed in and heard the quiet steadiness of it like water rushing over rocks inside of her. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, pulsing in the darkness…a drum keeping time to the steady, sharp swats across her ass. She’d known it would come to something like this the moment Jack had walked in the room, wordlessly waking her from an afternoon nap, hooking his fingers between the buttons of her flannel shirt and ripping it open. He shoved his right hand between her breasts, wielding the center of her bra like a handle, pulling her to a seated position in front of him.…

  • Blogging & Writing

    6 Ways to Provide Writing Feedback

    With the latest release of Smut Marathon stories to review, I figure I have put off my promised “constructive feedback” post for long enough. Since it is what I do on a regular basis at work, writing a post like this feels a bit like writing an educational manual, but I’ll try to keep it from sounding preachy or overly academic. Most writer’s groups I have been a part of have created feedback/criticism “norms” so everyone in the group knows when and how to offer it (and how to take it). And in classrooms, there is usually a clear rubric attached to writing assignments that makes pointing out areas of…

  • Fiction

    Sunset

    Some time ago, @DomSigns cried out a challenge on twitter that someone write a story about “real” people. He appeared to be tired of the cookie-cutter perfection that is often presented in erotic fiction… For some reason, that night, just a first line came to me, and I kept it for a few weeks until the story began to grow a bit on its own. This is what came of that little sprout of a first line. Sunset He sat in the beach chair beside her, naked from the waist up. His wet hair shone in the sun, like strands of silk and silver, and his belly, rounded by time…

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