Tuesday, 19 February 2013

Tuesday Turn-On: A Rush Hour

I've spent half of my lifetime commutes in traffic jams. In fact, most of my driver's training was conducted on packed roads and slow-moving freeways. Over the years I've gotten creative on how to pass the time. At first I brought my laptop so that I might watch movies when I was stuck at a train crossing or something. Obviously that turned out to be a bad idea, so then I moved on to equally stupid things like cards and Chinese finger traps. Then audio books, language packs, munchies, one-handed crafts, and finally neck massagers. Since buying the vibrating pillow, I have not brought any new activities to the car.

You can imagine why. If you can't, though, I'll give you a hint: I haven't worn the pillow around my neck since the first day I bought it.

Saturday, 16 February 2013

Saturday Evensong: Kayem Gee

Look at you, you naughty reader you, coming back to my blog! This time I am pleased to introduce someone new to you. She's got something fresh, something giddy, and she's got talent. New to the Saturday Evening floor: 
I go by the name KAYEM GEE THEE POETESS…coming to you from Saint Louis, Missouri.

Thursday, 14 February 2013

Tuesday Turn-On: Mind the Gap

You're a fool if you leisurely stroll down the escalators to the platform in the morning. Always bolt down the left like your life depends on that next tube. This is me--if I didn't time it right I'd be ten minutes late to work. If you ever have the misfortune of meeting my supervisor when you've been ten minutes late for half your career, you would understand.

As I come power walking around the corner, I see the train idling, as if just for me--doors open, engine purring like a lion, not a soul on the platform. Because all of them are packed into the train.

The Lady Underground spoke through the intercom. "Please mind the closing doors."

I had a curse on my lips as I all but dived into the nearest compartment. And with a hair's breadth to spare, the doors just brushing the back of my coat as they hissed shut.

In the process of packing myself into the compartment, everyone lost their balance momentarily and sent hate in my direction via brainwaves. I cleared my throat and hung on to the bar above my head, angling myself so that I didn't bump into the three other hands grabbing the same bar.

To say we were packed like a sardine can was to say India isn't that populated. Everyone gathered around the doors like they'd never get out if they wandered into the compartment, and as a result every inch of my body was rubbing against something or someone.

Which made me realize my crotch was firmly pressed against the posterior of a blonde girl in front of me.

OmniTip #3: Bigger Crab Theory

This life pro tip was inspired by At One Point Captain Ly. He might still be a captain. I don't know. For all I know he could be a WalMart greeter or an ISIS agent now. Regardless of mishap careers, Ly has a really good outlook on life developed from and applied by video games. Yes, it's called Bigger Crab Theory.

As children (andmaybeasadults), we played a lot of video games. Mainly Japanese role-playing games. If you've never played one, the gist is that they have monsters to battle at every corner that look like they were designed in the same place where all the Hitachi toy designs were rejected.

                  I bet it's been done.

Monday, 11 February 2013

Tuesday Turn-On: Bag Boy

There she was, coming right for my till. She was a bit skinnier than my tastes, but I couldn't deny that she was gorgeous. Her hair was the kind of brown that looked fake, but the way she wore it was natural, soft waves tied back in a ponytail. Perky chest you'd expect to see on a model. All legs. I saw her at least once a week; she usually did her grocery shopping on Sundays. Once in a while she'd come on a Saturday, I guess, so it wasn't totally strange to see her striding around in spandex shorts and a tank top. It was just... what was she buying?

Sunday, 10 February 2013

What to Read

Did you stumble in here because you had nothing better to do? My condolences. Let me make it up to you.

No matter what your tastes or prior knowledge, the following fictional account of Alexander Pope has to be one of the best erotic pieces I've read in a while. Why? It's authentic, it's believable, and it's harmonious on several different levels. It entrusted me with my imagination.

I like that.

If you're not so inclined to click on that link above, the short version of Alexander Pope is this: He had countless health problems, was a Catholic removed from an Anglican society, but kicked ass with his poetry and translating Homer into satirical works.You don't fuck with the Pope.

18th century poets were not wont of writing "Suck my big fat cock you slut!" The language is very particular to the period and the erotic moments are ever the more powerful for it. It meets you halfway and rewards you for continuing. Plus it has a few good plot turns in the mix.

It takes no more than twenty minutes to read. Do yourself a favour and involve yourself in a touching tale about a phenomenal man!

The story on Literotica

Thursday, 7 February 2013

What I'm Working On: Stalk

I'm simply rolling in all the Cassandre Dayne right now. Who, by the way, was just on this radio show! Have a listen to ANYTHING GOES on blogtalkradio with Bennet Pomerantz and a couple of my acquaintances!
I turn into 450 pounds of carnivore at will.

Staged Whispers is on its way to your ereaders, ladies and gentlemen. I gotta say, dat ending. But I digress and risk many a spoiler, so I needs must continue. Next I'll be editing another installment in Dayne's Bad Things series: Stalk!

Vampires? Werewolves? Witches? No, thanks. I'll take God, the Devil and WERETIGERS please.

What would you do if you discovered someone from your past was still alive? You might wish to connect with him, protect him. But how do you protect someone from himself when it's the world that needs protection from him? Anastasia must make difficult choices for her and her Pride of weretigers in the upcoming battle of good and evil.

Oh, yeah, there's sex in it too.

Check out the beginning of Anastasia's sexual and spiritual sojourn in Bad Things Book I: Hunger, which can be found on the Naughty Nights Press eStore, Amazon, Amazon UK, and of course ARe.

You'll be like this:

Tuesday, 5 February 2013

Tuesday Turn-On: Bunkmates

Last year I signed on to Campus Camping Club. We didn't go on actual camping, unfortunately--just to the cabins an hour away. We go twice a year, with an optional trip during the summer months.

Having just attended the summer one, I have to say, hands-down, it's my favourite. It goes like this:

Being in our early twenties, we drank ourselves out of our livers and stayed up into the wee hours of the morning on our last night. The super came along and told us to pipe the fuck down, so we all retreated indoors to polish off our mickeys and two sixes in bed. Boys went to one room, girls to the other. We had a blast for a while. At some point we tired, though, and conversation nosedived.

The girl below my bunk was snoring lightly. Who was that under me? I couldn't remember. It could have been Rhianna or Jaquie or Lyn. I didn't know all the girls too well yet--I'd only been on so many trips with them--but I liked them, despite them having a wide range of personalities. Rhianna was quiet to the point you thought she was prim, proper, and terribly timid, but then she would slyly slip a comment into conversation that was so smooth in delivery I found myself tearing up with laughter. Jacquie was nice, buoyant, cute in a provocative way. She reminded me of Betty Boop meets Scarlet Johansson and acts like Lucille Ball. Lyn was so outgoing that you did not suffer a moment of quiet in her presence (or, in some people's minds, a moment of peace). She had an alpha presence, a good sense of humor, and was born without a filter. Whenever she got drunk, that fact became more apparent. She'd ripped a few out of me here and there, but in such a way I was smiling by the end of it.

Whoever it was was deep in sleep. Or so I thought. Suddenly I was focused on her breath. Realization was dawning. She wasn't breathing deeply; she was panting.

Saturday, 2 February 2013

OmniTip #2: Confidence

I am a hermit. For years I was socially unstable at best. Some would call it what it is: ineptitude. I never felt very smart, very talented, very pretty, or in any way significant. I was a blight on global productivity. Just taking up a vacancy someone else could fill.

Before: Oh, bother.

What I didn't know is that somewhere along the line I tripped up and headed for that downward spiral, not knowing it was so easy to combat that and change who I was. Flash forward a decade: I now have a Bachelor's Degree (I never thought I was made of university material), I have lost 20 pounds, I am healthier, and I am feeling successful in my day career and my evening job.

After: I'm a fucking tiger.
I could ramble about how I got here, or I could let Amy Cuddy, scientist extraordinaire and my savior, say it. Reserve twenty minutes of your day and benefit for life.

Saturday Evening Spanking: Liz Adams

Next I want to introduce a recent inspiration of mine. Liz Adams is relatively new to the scene, and although she's just started the race, she's rocketed ahead and earned herself a few titles. Here's a little bit about her:
Liz Adams, author of the erotic fairy tale Alice’s Sexual Discovery in a Wonderful Land, lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, CA. Her short story Amy “Red” Riding’s Hood, an erotic version of Red Riding Hood, is an Amazon bestseller and winner of Goodreads’ Book of the Month for October 2012. Her other short story Hansel and Gretel with the Sexual Hunter is also a bestseller on Amazon. Liz studied music and creative writing at UCLA and worked as a freelance model before making her writing her career. In her spare time she cuddles with her husband on the couch to watch her favorite shows and often they work together doing research for her books. Feel free to contact Liz through Facebook.