Wednesday Work in Progress: Redo

“No.” She turned and pushed him flat to the bed. “No, that’s not how this goes.” She straddled his body, grinding herself against the hard line of his cock. “How this goes is I convince you. I push you.” She ripped his shirt, popping the badly sewn buttons. “I don’t want to repeat what happened, I want to do what I never had the chance, had the courage to do.” She pushed herself against his body, the pressure on her clit making her squirm and he thrust up into her. He began to breathe quickly as she ground herself against his cock, riding it through his pants and the thin cotton of her knickers. All too quickly she could feel an orgasm building, and slowed her pace until he was writhing underneath her, hands clenched in the bedspread.

This was something of an experiment. I wanted to redo, flip and rework the whole ‘schoolgirl’ thing. Because, god, what I wouldn’t have given to have been able to explore my own desires at that age? I was voracious, but I was surrounded by all these constraints and controls, not just about ‘good girls don’t’ but even when I wanted to, I had someone else there trying to take it further than I wanted.

I wish I’d had a chance to be in control.

So this was how I experimented with that idea. It didn’t go anywhere, not really, but I think I still like it. It doesn’t really work, but I like it.

(also, does anyone else have trouble with names in erotica? I wrote this a while back and since then I’ve made a new, wonderful, friend…who shares the same name as male character in this)

WIP: Handmade

He kneeled down and slipped my socks off, stroking along my shins, my calves, the arches of my feet and the bones in my ankles. My usual impatience was gone, replaced by an ethereal sort of contentedness. He pulled me to my feet to let my pants drop and pool on the floor, then traced the seams of my underwear, the lines of the printed roses while I stood. He cupped my breasts, my puckered nipples aching. His hands were hot, rough in places and he could palm the entirety of the flesh.
“You’re lovely.” He whispered, shifting in close. “Lovely and perfect.” His fingers brushed over the plastic wrap, and I felt myself shift out of that languidness into fierce desire.
“You’re perfect.” I cupped his face and ran my thumbs over the grooves beside his eyes, the little lines I hadn’t noticed inked into his temples and disappearing beneath his hair. “You’re a miracle of timing.”
I finally kissed him then, soft and sweet at first, then teasing his mouth open to plunder him. His hands clutched at my hips, and I writhed against him, finger busily unbuttoning his shirt and pants.

Wednesday Work in Progress: First Time

I stared into her face as I pulled at her nipples again, drawing them further away from her body this time and pinched harder and when she moaned again I couldn’t help myself. I stripped my shirt off, my jeans, my trunks, and stroked myself once. Just once. Anything else and I knew I’d come as quick as she did. I couldn’t work out how DL was still going, still fucking her. I took my hand off my cock, slick with the precome leaking almost constantly now, and pushed two of my fingers into her mouth as I pinched and pulled at her nipples with the other. She didn’t bother licking, just pushed her head forward to take my fingers deep into her mouth, sucking them. I moaned and pulled my fingers free to kiss her fiercely, pulling at her hair and biting her lips.

(it was harder than I expected to pull a section of this one out – lots more emotional context than usual for me, and I’m not practised at writing threesomes so it feels terribly clunky in places)

Wednesday Work In Progress: dirty words

We both moved, and met. Her mouth was soft and full and her teeth were sharp. I kept my hands on her and moved us so I could sit her on the bench and kiss her without having to bend or pick her up. So I could have both hands free to grasp the fleshy parts of her hips and squeeze and bring her closer to me and I could finally press my aching cock against her. When I did, her hips thrust up against me and she moaned into my mouth.
“Fucking hell.” We both said it but it was her hands yanking at the fabric between us. I didn’t have a chance to be self-conscious, to think about how looked, because she wriggled off the bench to drop to her knees and press her face into the curve beneath my belly and bite on the soft flesh there, mouthing at me as her hands worked. I revelled in it but when she finally got my jeans undone I pulled her back to stand.


Inspired by this, and it starts in a library but I just couldn’t finish it there. Damnit. But it does feature condomless sex so that’s one goal done and dusted.

Wednesday Work in Progress: wet season

I breathed deeply, and slowly, as the images came thick and fast. I knew I was staring at her throat but couldn’t stop, not until I heard another laugh, smothered into a cough. San was sitting next to me and had obviously seen my distraction.

“You look like you want to eat her alive.”

He didn’t bother sugarcoating it, just went straight for the kill. I tilted my head and considered him. He met my gaze and we held eye contact for just a little bit too long.

“That would be one of the things I want to do.” My own voice was husky, telegraphing my desire. He leaned over to murmur close to my ear.

“I am no longer allowed to participate, but I am allowed to watch…”

(this one has stalled out too but I’ll get there, in the end, I’ll work out why it’s being difficult)

Having a porntastic career

Not in the sense that you actually do any sex work. In the sense that you work in a highly fetishised career. I imagine nurses, firefighters, cops, doctors and others have some similar feelings, but I was a librarian.

And not just a ‘lady who works in the library’. I have glasses – black-rimmed plastic usually. I habitually wear my hair in a bun, so it doesn’t get caught under bag straps or yanked by children. I have a 50s sort of shape. I wear pencil skirts and cardigans and stockings in the cold. In short, I look like a librarian. To the point people think I’m being sarcastic when I describe what I do.

This can bring out some interesting things in people, mostly men. When you’re new, someone takes you aside and warns you about the creepers. The calls, that start out normal, and draw you in, and ask you to read out all of Nancy Friday’s titles for example, with requests to repeat them. The patrons who request books from the top shelf, or the bottom, and need your help. The ones who write you poetry (my body is no mere vessel, it is a chalice, according to one wordsmith).

I do not say this to brag (lest certain people are reading) but to explain the way I’ve been treated as a librarian, with a Masters degree, based on fetishes people have. Based on old scripts.

And I get it. A friend of mine has explained his own attraction to librarians (“I assume you’re smart, and if you’re hot too, and surrounded by books, and you’re funny, it’s just really really hot.”) and I get it. I read this and Jesus Christ do I get the appeal of the library. I write erotica specifically because I love the power of words who who wields that in a more overt and easily codified way than librarians (…maybe literature professors? Which is my other career?)?

But I also read that piece and think ‘oh man I have to clean up after that’ and ‘you might think you’re discreet but you aren’t’ and ‘other library fuckers are not so kind’. So it’s a fraught topic for me.

And like all fraught topics I’m gonna write myself some library porn. Look for an excerpt coming up soon.

Wednesday Work in Progress: Sharing

Dav nodded, his eyes on Tian. The other man was still smiling, crooked and wicked, tapping his fingers on his bent knee. Dav looked at them and swallowed hard; they glistened. Tian saw his glance and met his eyes once more, before dipping his fingers into his mouth. Dav made a strangled noise and Alina drew back, looking at him and then at Tian. A blush rose as she took in the tableau. Tian grinned around the fingers still in his mouth, then withdrew them with a lascivious noise.

“Tian!” Alina’s voice was strangled, but her hand was still around Dav’s waist. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Tian laughed, then rose to come and stand close to her, trapping her between the two men.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He nibbled her neck and Dav felt her hand clutch at his shirt.

“Fuck. What are you doing?” Her voice was strained, but Tian simply turned her so he pressed against her back and pushed her against Dav’s bulk.

“No seriously, Tian, what the fuck man?” Dav’s voice was harsh, but he didn’t move away from Alina’s softness. “This is not cool.”

Tian looked up; he was the same height as Alina, both of them a few inches shorter than Dav.

“You can leave if you want. Or you can watch. Or you can join in.”

(I have such a thing for squishy dudes.)

Wednesday Work in Progress: Pestle

I nodded, and pelted for the shower. I scrubbed myself clean, pushing my fingers into my slick cunt, into my ass. When I was clean, I got out and dried off then walked naked into the bedroom. He’d laid down our nicely absorbent blanket and I knew I was in for it. All our toys, the nice bit of cord I’d scored on sale at the fabric store, the chopsticks and clips and clamps and lube. And him. He still had the dark slacks on, the white shirt, he’d worn to the party but he’d taken off his shoes and socks and untied his tie. The dark flesh of his skin contrasted with the shirt, and the tie made his eyes look stormy grey. His beard was trimmed close, and hairs curled on his toes. I breathed deep and he smiled.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” He ran his fingers from my throat to my left nipple, then stroking over to my right breast. “You’re flushed, all the way down.”

“Please don’t make me wait, please.”

“Oh no, don’t start begging yet honey, not yet. We haven’t even started yet and you’re already wet and begging?”

(improvised sex toys ftw. Sort of. This has stalled a little but I still like it.)

Wednesday Work in Progress: untitled

Jack looked up at Paz. Her dress was form-fitting, black, the zip long and still undone beneath her lace covered ass.

“Can you zip me up?” She walked over and turned, presenting her ass and wriggling it. She paused. “Your webcam is off, right?”

Jack snickered. “It is, I was just chatting with Peter. About you actually.” He let his hands rest on her hips, not touching the zip. “I think he’s a little bit in love with you.”

He could see the blush begin, low on the pale flesh of her back. He trailed one finger along her spine and laughed.

“You wear your thoughts on your skin. You like that idea, don’t you?”

Paz nodded hesitantly.

Jack grinned. “I’m just gonna turn the cam on, in that case. Show him what he’s missing.”

Paz’s dark eyes met his, her eyebrow cocked. “Just how far should we go?”

“As far as it needs to.”

(I like using technology in my contemporaries. There are so many interesting ways tech can be used in sex, and relationships, and it’s not all teledildonics and vibrators linked to your iphone – like sex always has been, it’s about the connections and how you make them)

Wednesday Works in Progress: Coffee

“So if you ask for something?”

“I really, really, fucking want it.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“I bet it does. But you’re a talker then? What kind?”

“I don’t get mean, if that’s what you’re asking. Mostly I just like to talk about what I’m seeing, what it feels like, what I’m gonna do.”

Me and her both went silent then. The way he said that was spectacular. Her chair shifted and I caught myself before I did the same thing.

(another snippet. This one sprang like Athena, furiously typed out in one sitting. Again, there’s no ‘proper fucking’ but there doesn’t need to be, not really. And no publication, just inspiration. Also it’s so tiny!)