Ewww…. Soft hands!

Okay, I admit I have issues.

But don’t we all?

I had a lover once that I adored but his touch made my skin crawl. Once I got over first contact I was fine… but those first few moments were touch and go.

“Why?” You ask.

“Because he had soft hands,” I answer.

It took everything I had the first time he touched me not to run screaming from the room. So imagine my horror when last night as I escaped into fantasy one of my favorite manly men on television stated, as an enticement, that he had soft hands.

Sorry Castle I’ll never be able to think of you in the same way. And Nathan, I want Mal back.

Shit! Can’t a girl have her fantasies?

There are several things about men that thrill me. I love what time does to them. The wear and tear of life on their faces makes my blood run hot. Don’t bother with the pretty boys – they got nothing on a man of experience. I want to know the person I’m with has lived life not just watched it pass or played it on a computer.

(Oh, yes… back to my thing about men who play video games.)

When I have more scars and rougher hands then the man I’m with…. Huston, we have a problem.

If the extent of your manly labors is playing with a joy stick and microwaving packaged meals…well…sorry…I want more. Not that I need an arctic explorer or a cowboy but I’d like someone who interacts with the world.

So no more soft hands please.

Slow hands. Strong hands. Sensitive hands. Those are a delight.

But soft and hands should never go together.

Licks!

Never Apologize, Never Explain…

Okay, maybe just this once.

My loyal readers I have left you the last several weeks with poor writing and few posts. Not for lack of fodder but because of a distraction.

Working on this novella has become all consuming. It is a genre I’ve never tried to write before, although I’ve certainly read enough of it, and I have become a little compulsive obsessive.

I lied, a lot obsessive.

I am completely preoccupied with this world I’ve created and the shower scene a friend helped me with. A shower all of us who love water and sex would love to play in. Really, this shower has crept into my dreams and made me realize just how much I miss sex in luxurious bathrooms.

The last time I was in Vegas I had the most delightful tub huge, wide and deep. You could fit two people in comfortably and three at a stretch. The spigot was in the middle and slightly recessed so as to prevent inadvertent damage to the bathers. Unfortunately it was a girl’s weekend. No chance for me to play in it and we always stick to the rule – no men in the room. Girl’s weekends are more about teasing and being unattainable than about anonymous sex.

Hmmm… but I did tell my lover all about the tub and everything I would do to him if he was with me.

There is something delightful about water and sex.

I had a lover once who always started our private parties with a shower. We would lather up and tease each other for hours both in the shower and out.

I digress.

I meant to apologize for being more involved in writing stories than writing posting. I will return – refreshed and rejuvenated.

Promise.

Licks!

The Nature of Romance

Between Valentine’s Day and working on a Romantic Erotic story I’ve been thinking about the nature of Romance.

Romance with a capital ‘R’.

What is Romantic as opposed to Erotic? Where does one end and another begin? Is there any difference? For some of us I have a feeling there isn’t. Our eroticism is completely wrapped up in the cloth of Romance.

I don’t find any Romance in Valentine’s Day and I let that slip to someone who does. He is a delightful man who is, at heart, quite the romantic and who follows all the rules: flowers on the first date, cards on holidays, chocolate for celebrations and to ease a hurt. It is lovely to be on the receiving end of such thoughtfulness and my thoughtlessness hurt us both.

Sigh…

But Romance? What is it? Is it just being thoughtful or just having someone who takes the time to get to know you? Is it all the trappings or is it the warmth of love and the dance we do as we fall?

I’m not sure I know.

There are so many images that we have of Romance: kissing in the rain, a picnic in front of a fire, a walk on the beach. But they are also images of intimacy.

So Romance is linked to intimacy…

But for me that puts us back to the Erotic.

For me there is nothing as erotic as intimacy – of knowing your lover and your lover knowing you. There is always more to discover. We never know someone wholly but the continual unfolding as we discover more and more about each other.

That is bliss.

Apparently I cannot separate the three, Romance, Erotic, and Intimacy. They all blend together for me; one bleeding into the other with no dividing lines. I have tried for one without the others and it doesn’t work. It is all entwined.

I will need to think further on this, finding stories that are romance without the erotic or intimacy, intimacy without romance or the erotic, and the erotic without romance or intimacy.

Licks!

If Masturbation is a Sin…

…I am so going to Hell!

This morning I woke with the most delicious fantasy in my head. Me, an old lover, some good music, and a lap dance that turned into a wild ride. Of course this then required a little assistance from the toys, which wait for just such occasions, in my bedside drawer.

It was a lovely way to wake up.

Sigh, these days it is my usual way of waking up.

Not having a lover means not being touched, kissed, fondled, held, licked… all things I miss so much. It also means no morning sex.

I do miss morning sex.

A former lover once asked how often I masturbate.

I thought deeply before I answered. Was this a trick question? Was he looking for a little titillation, imagining when and how I might masturbate, to spice up his days? Was he fishing for a better understanding of my sex drive worried that he wasn’t satisfying me, feeling that my desire for self-fulfillment might somehow be a comment on his abilities?

I took the middle road and averaged it explaining that it changed depending on if I was seeing him, writing erotica, or just having one of those days.

I haven’t had one of those days in awhile.

Those wonderful days where you wake with the itch just on the periphery of you vision. It grows as the day progresses and you feed it. Gently at first by how you walk, sit, and stand. You feed the thoughts that come keeping them fresh and alive in your head. Subtle changes occur. You are just slightly damp all day. Your voice takes on a richness that is usually reserved for the bedroom. In the end you are a walking erogenous zone. The slightest touch or shift of fabric makes you sigh with pleasure.

Walking through the halls you start looking at your coworkers in a new light. Wondering naughty thoughts and curious to know if they can sense your mood. You lick your lips when you shouldn’t wondering if the single guy down the hall would go for a quickie in the storage room but knowing that what you want is no quickie.

After all this, the teasing and fantasies, what you want is your lover and oodles of time. No rush. You want the burning feeling that tingles on the edge of your flesh to drop deep inside you, where only he can touch. You want to explore the chair, the table, the couch, the floor and maybe later… the bed. To be taken every way you ever have before and to try a few new things….

Yes, that is what you want after a day that starts with an itch and ends by burning through you until there is nothing left.

Mmmm…those are good days.

Licks!

Notes from a Passion Party

I arrived late. Bad me! Really late.

I’m not sure my hostess will forgive me.

But I was in time to ‘ooh and ahh’ over everyone’s purchases. They were able to take the potions and lotions home – the battery operated tows would be mailed. Sad, since all three of my friends wanted to go home and show off their purchases to their husbands.

I convinced them to continue the Girl’s Out theme and go for drinks with me.

Bad Emma!

The fun thing about these parties is that they loosen lips. Combine that with cocktails and you have the opportunity for some good stories.

I got lots of stories. Some I will never tell!

The thing that surprised me most was that all three of my friends purchased “Great Head”. None of them like providing oral sex much and this particular potion promised to make it a better experience. Apparently it suppresses the gag reflex and makes semen taste better.

Hmmm….

I found this intriguing and had to ask why, if they don’t enjoy providing oral sex, they all purchased this product. One said that she had spent so much money on toys for herself she felt she needed to get something that would please him.

I was a bit of a flip answer. I wondered if it was a dutiful wife thing… but really none of my friends strike me as the dutiful type.

When I dug deeper the real reason emerged. They enjoy receiving and felt they should provide as good as they get.

I wondered about this for several days because no lover had ever asked me to do anything that I didn’t enjoy doing. I’ve had lovers who didn’t like giving or receiving oral stimulation and when that was the case we just found other things to occupy ourselves with.

It’s amazing how much trouble you can get up to when you have to get really creative.

But to have something that I didn’t enjoy that they wanted… this was a new thought. I know, I know, it shouldn’t be – but it was.

I'm waiting for feedback to find out if "Great Head" did the trick, I elicited promises from everyone that they would share. Until then I'm curious....

Which side of the fence are you on? Like, dislike, or situational? Gals? Guys?

Licks!

Emma’s Erotic Sketches – Just His Mouth

The key card opened the door and it swung wide. They tumbled in all thoughts of dinner forgotten. In their desire she was slammed against the wall. They laughed. He stripped her of her top and began worshiping her nipples. His hands, rough from manual labor, scratched her skin. Sighing, she relaxed her head on the wall, releasing all control.

This was what she wanted, what she had been dreaming of, since their eyes locked in the lobby.

He continued down her body, laying his head on her stomach as he released her from her jeans. She had already kicked off her mules. Exploratory fingers found her moist and he looked up at her surprised, “You’re wet.”

“I’ve been wet since you smiled at me.” Her fingers entwined themselves in his hair.

“Mmmm…” was all he said as he buried his face in her mound and breathed deep of the warm seashell scent. He knelt before her, a suppliant.

She moved for him. Tilting her hips and hooking one leg over his shoulder. His mouth found her, warm and wet as he began to explore. She stopped thinking allowing herself the luxury of getting lost in sensation. His tongue teased the edges of her clit, tormenting her. Just when she thought he couldn’t stand any more he would move back to drink from the warm flow that continued to course through her. Back and forth he played with her as she sighed above him.

Teeth grazed her clit and she cried out. Hands reached out to support her ass as she leaned against the wall. She threw her other leg over his shoulder trapping his head between her thighs. She couldn’t get enough and pulled him to her, heels digging into his back forcing his face deeper into her mound.

She was so close; she thought she would die with pleasure.

He responded, gently at first by sucking her clit. As her thighs contracted he pulled harder. His fingers pulled her ass apart and buried themselves in her skin. She arched, her body begging him to finish her. He licked and sucked, sending ripples of pleasure though her. More elixir poured from her and he used his tongue to make sure he got every drop.

A low moan turned into a cry as she came but he didn’t stop. With each contraction he drank from her and kept her coming. Just as she thought she would lose the final shred of control and scream they tumbled to the floor. The scream caught in her throat and became a laugh. Joyously they crawled to each other. His mouth found hers and kissed her.

She tasted herself on his lips and smiled at the magic he could perform with just his mouth.

Emma Greer

Licks!

Sigh….

So many things to worry about…. 

• Is it the end of the G-Spot?
• Is my clitoris too small?
• Will I ever have sex that makes me pass out? La petite mort?

And on and on….

The days of keeping up with the Jones’ public life is past now I have to keep up with their private life as well. I’ve been doing research and to be honest it is making me cranky. Everyone is having more, better, bombastic, orgasmic, titillating sex than I am.

Waaaaaahhhh!

I may have to curl up with the warmth of my imagination and a few toys and see if that will make me feel better. The lovely thing about fantasies I can be anything and I can do anyone any way I can imagine.

The nice thing is if I come up with anything really sexy I promise to share.

Licks!

The Joy of Technology

Or… never having to hear “Not tonight dear” again.

We all know about sex dolls. Hell, Anais Nin wrote about them in Delta of Venus. In her story a ship’s crew contracts syphilis from their blowup fantasy doll…no sense of dramatic irony there. So sex dolls have been around awhile. And now they talk.

Introducing Roxxxy!

Roxxxy can talk and hold a conversation, comes with multiple personalities and will have sex with you when ever you please. No need to worry about those messy emotions or the complications of having an actual relationship.

For the low low price of $7,000

Remnants of Dr. Universe’s play pal, or the Stepford Wives, or April on Buffy. (Yes I do have a thing for the Whedonverse – don’t hold it against me)

The perfect woman!

And she’s built to be warm to the touch and has sensors in all the right places so that you have instant verbal confirmation that you are doing everything just right.

And yes – no more worries about finding a partner.

No fear of having to talk about things you don’t have any interest in. Roxxxy can be programmed for specific topics of interest to her man. No more uncomfortable silences after the woman in your life utters those magic words, “We need to talk”.

Yes, all the joy of a relationship without any of the mess predicable, dependable, programmable, as long as the batteries hold out.

You may be thinking that the price tag of $7,000 is steep but you need to think about it. First off it is cheaper than buying sex and safer. And buying sex can get very expensive… how much did Eliot Spitzer spend on sex, two to three thousand an hour? Wow that can add up fast.

And dating isn’t cheap either.

Imagine one date a week costing ~ $50 is $2,600 plus there travel costs and clothing and the gym membership. Besides a dating services alone can cost in the thousands per year. And all through this you may not even get them in bed – let alone get them to play out all your fantasies.

All in all this is quite a steal… no wonder 4,000 men have preordered Roxxxy and another 20,000 or so are looking at her.

Oh, and Roxxxy has a male counterpart - Rocky!!

Hmmm… sweetie, we need to talk.

Licks!