Archive | December, 2012

The power of fingers

31 Dec

Came across this cartoon…

What an inspiration!

fingers

 

In general great cartoon with lotsa sex, be sure to check it out at http://oglaf.com/

Teaser: Shipmates

24 Dec

shipmates copy

The heavens were spinning. Pleasure fogged my brain as I tried to react. He was so deep inside me I couldn’t tell were I ended and he began. Spinning out of control, he quivered inside me. It was almost like he was asking for guidance. I against him harder. Something important was escaping me. My mind reached out to it, but my thoughts were washed away by another one of his pulsations inside me. I writhed on top of him, arching my back and trying to push him away. The spinning slowed, but the pleasure didn’t stop. It was no use. We were lost in space together.

In the distance through the fog I heard screaming. I knew it was urgent, but his need was more important. And he needed me to… needed me to…

What did I need to do?

***

I remember first contact. Aliens were all over the news. President Obama was shown shaking hands with the insectoid leader, smiling to the cameras. The kind of picture needed to reassure the country. Maybe the world.

Nothing much changed. They gave us a few trinkets from their ship to amuse us, while they orbited the planet. One thing on the planet did not stop when the aliens arrived: business. T-shirts, replica ships, action figures, movies, the aliens were everywhere. They were our heroes, our salvation, our key into interstellar travel. You’d think the aliens had instigated a PR campaign. They didn’t, but we sure realized they were a marketable product.

They were just waiting. Waiting for the big guns to arrive.

The world collapsed into chaos when they did arrive. Their ships outclassed our own. Our resistance was pathetic. Capitals cities were wiped off the map in the blink of an eye.

The epidemics started. Intentional or not, their “trinkets” were killing us slowly. Our immune systems weren’t equipped to deal with their foreign viruses and bacteria. I don’t know how many died. No one kept records anymore.

Resistance was organized from the remnants of NATO. It could barely be called a resistance. The aliens ignored it, because it was a shit-hole city like any other. Far from their settlements, it was walled in and subject to the occasional raid. It was referred to as the Eastern Reservation. The locals called it the ER. An apt title considering it was filled largely with the sick and the injured.

I made my way there from the rubble of Valley Falls. My nowhere village wasn’t targeted, but its proximity to New York City made it suffer in collateral damage. Ironically most of the damage was caused by the inefficient weapons of the American government.

Alone, without family, without friends, they welcomed me into the ER. My first day there I volunteered to join the militia. Let them strap a bomb to me, I would walk straight at those insectoid fuckers and take as many of them as I could down with me.

The militia welcomed me with open arms and enrolled me in their pilot training program. They did some bullshit tests of intelligence and psychology. A lot of patterns, blots of ink, and stupid questions about things that didn’t exist anymore. If a train leaves Philadelphia at 10:15 going 45 mph and another train at 11:50 going 65mph – who gives a shit, there are no trains anymore? I didn’t need any training to kill these bugs.

I was called into the NATO headquarters after they had evaluated my tests. Headquarters consisted of an underground archive with flickering halogen lights. Criminal records of insignificant crimes, lined the walls. Nobody had bothered to clean it out and its moldy smell permeated the humid halls.

They invited me into a small windowless room. The papers had been thrown out, revealing walls covered in cracks and wet splotches. At least the light didn’t flicker. Two men sat on foldable aluminum chairs behind a white plastic desk. An empty seat awaited me and I sat down.

“We’ve reviewed your test results,” said a skinny man with glasses. It was hard to imagine he was a soldier, but I guess these days the pool they could chose from was small.

I raised my eyebrow at him. I waited for them to hand me my bomb.

“You have been specially selected for a division of the resistance,” he continued. He readjusted his glasses, nervously.

“Great,” I said keeping my voice flat.

“I have to brief you on the fact that this division is highly classified. Once you enter this division you are not allowed to leave it unless you fail the training, in which case you will be assigned to another unit. I’m afraid that desertion from this division is punished by…” he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the next words. “…swift execution.”

“Strap a nuke to me, I’ll make a personal delivery to the bugs while I’m at it,” I said.

He fidgeted some more and handed me a folder, “You will be joining our outer atmosphere pilot program. You’ve been given the code name, Azrael. Please use it in all communications with all NATO personnel. Captain Loki will take you to your training facility.”

 

Read more…

Santa’s Sexy Seduction

17 Dec

This is actually one of my favorite stories that I have written. Originally I was going to title it something along the lines of ‘Santa Comes on Christmas’ or ‘Santa Came in the Chimney’ but the story itself developed into something more elegant, more seductive, than a simple in and out by Santa.

I hope you enjoy the sample below and perhaps you can find inspiration from it for this Christmas and if no inspiration at least it should be able to cause a little perspiration. 😉

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I dressed up for Christmas shopping. My long sweater hugged my curves and made my legs look miles long. Black tights wrapped my legs, sheltering them from the winter cold. Experience had taught me always to dress for the unexpected. In these winter months, there are women who bundle themselves in thick sweaters and fluffy coats. They roll through the supermarket like gigantic, multicolored medicine balls. I refused to be one of these. At the supermarket the round bundles bumped into each other like erratic bumper cars, but I managed to slide through.

Perhaps I’m not being entirely honest about my reasons for dressing up. My friends may call me crazy, but I had to admit a small crush on the new bag boy in the supermarket. I picked the line where I knew he was working. He was a beautiful creature. The line was moving slowly with all the Christmas shoppers in front of me. The line could not go slow enough for me as I watched him, running my eyes across his body. His skin was tanned and smooth and his muscles rippled under his black t-shirt as he packed the bags. Tattoos of long, scaled dragons twisted around his arms.

He noticed my blatant stare and shot me a questioning look with cold gray eyes. Embarrassed, I could feel my face flush with blood as I pretended to look for something in my purse. I realized that my face wasn’t the only place where I felt the rush of warmth.

I tried not to look in his direction while he loaded my shopping cart with paper bags.

‘Do you need some help with these bags?’ he asked. His voice was a deep, soft rumble.

‘I think I can manage, thank you,’ I responded. Why did I say it? I dressed up for him, I wanted the attention and now that I had it I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

‘There is frost on the parking lot, let me take shopping cart to your car and help you,’ he insisted. He grinned at me as if he could read my mind.

‘Sure,’ I conceded. ‘I don’t want to hurt myself and spend Christmas in bed.’

‘Christmas in bed doesn’t sound so bad,’ he teased. His hands brushed mine as he took the shopping cart from me. My heart beat accelerated as he stood this close to me. His musk fragrance with hints of cinnamon flooded my senses.

‘You coming?’ he asked walking off with my groceries.

‘Not that easily,’ I said under my breath and followed him into the parking lot.

‘Just let me know which trunk to put it in,’ he grinned. I considered saying mine, but I was too shy. Just the thought of it made my cheeks flushed. I hope he would attribute it to the winter air.

I pointed out the aisle and indicated my forest green car.

‘A Volvo?’ he asked with an exaggerated expression of disgust.

‘Hey, don’t judge,’ I grinned and opened the trunk.

He placed the groceries in the car under my admiring eye. His breath swirled in steamy bursts as he worked. The tattooed dragons writhing on his arms each times he picked up another bag.

 <<It’s just getting started! Read more…>>

Felt Tips – Cover reveal…

10 Dec

At the risk of coming again, I present to you the cover of the erotica anthology edited by Tiffany Reisz, featuring a sexy story, by yours truly.

FT

what kind of office doesn’t have a whip?

Check out the stories by the vastly talented contributors, including Tiffany herself.

In my last post, I’ve already mentioned that it is a sticky situation in the book. Of course, I don’t want to give to much away, but the noir detective vibe of the story should permeate through to make a pleasurable potion of hot sex, spilled onto the page in the form of words.

I hope you enjoy it and check back next week for links to the book. I also have another short story in the detective vein, which I will be previewing.

Also I think that in the spirit of Christmas, I should to another e-book give away, so check back for that as well!

Felt Tips

5 Dec

The time of cheer is here.

More importantly Felt Tips is being released very soon! 12-12-12 and I will have a stories featured in this anthology.

It’s for charity, so make sure you grab a copy, maybe more, because your friends will probably want one too and you don’t want to make them jealous.

For those who haven’t been following, Felt Tips is an office-themed erotica anthology. It has many known authors and a few less known authors contributing. The stories all have office supplies in them.

My story is titled ‘Caught’ and let’s just say the characters are stuck in a sticky situation.

Be sure to check it out in more detail. More information here: http://tiffanyreisz.com/storytime/121212/

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