Showing posts with label sex stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex stories. Show all posts

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Good Luck With The Pie

A work in progress...
I stood in front of the apples and tried to remember which kind the recipe called for. I wondered how much it would really matter in the end. Who knew there could be so many different types of apples? Were they really all that different from each other? My hand reached out to grab a shiny green apple, but it hesitated.
“Excuse me.” His voice was raspy near my ear. Close, but not quite close enough to be creepy.
“I’m sorry,” I pulled my hand back. “I want to make a pie, but I can’t remember what kind of apples the recipe called for. I guess I’m overwhelmed by all the choices.” Shut up! You sound like a damned idiot!  I looked up and saw that the man was smirking. His grey-blue eyes twinkled good naturedly.
“Pie, huh. Do you make pie often?”
I shook my head and just stared at him like some sort of fucking dope. He was one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen. He was tall, six feet at least, and his shirt matched the color of his eyes.
“Do you mind?” he reached his hand out and brushed against my arm to get to the apples.
“Huh? Oh, sorry.” I moved out of his way and stood in front of the Red Delicious apples. I picked one up and examined it for bruises. Tried to act like I knew what I was doing.
“You don’t want that kind for a pie. Too mushy and not near enough flavor.” He was holding one of those green apples. He tossed it in the air and caught it. “This is the kind you want.” He brought it to his mouth, and the apple made a snapping sound as his teeth broke the skin. He chewed a couple of times, then swallowed. “Juicy. Sour. Sweet.” He wiped a little juice off his his lower lip and sucked ever so lightly on his finger.. “Delicious.”
My throat went dry and I imagined myself pulling that apple from his hand and taking a bite from the same spot he bit. It would be like kissing without the contact. A jittery giggle escaped my throat and I forced a cough to try and get myself under control. What was wrong with me? Why was I acting like a teenager?
“Thank you.”
He stepped closer to me and smiled that amused smile again. “You should always listen to your instincts. You were right.”
Listen to my instincts? My instincts wanted to push him against the apple display and kiss him, taste the apple he had just eaten and decide for myself if that was the kind I wanted. The last thing in the world I needed to do was listen to my instincts. Snap out of it!
“Did you get what you needed?” I nodded at the empty produce bag in his hand.
“Not yet.” His eyes caught mine and held them prisoner for several long seconds before I was able to tear my gaze away.
“Oh. Okay. You just asked me to move so you could get to them, but if you don’t need these..” I reached out and grabbed an apple at random. My knees were wobbly, and I dropped it on the floor when I tried to shove it into my bag. “Shit.” I bent over to pick it up, but he beat me to it. Picked it up and put it back on the pile.
“Avoid that one. It’s bruised.” he took two green apples put them into his bag, twisted it closed and walked away. “Good luck with your pie.” he called over his shoulder just before he turned the corner.
What was that? I asked myself.

Friday, July 5, 2013

Vanquishing the Erotica Stigma

There are people in my real life who would never, not in a million zillion years, understand why I write erotica. Some of them would find it shameful because they are devoutly religious and sex is seen as a shameful and dirty thing that should never be talked about.

Some would shake their heads in dismay because they see erotica as a cheap market, a place where crappy writing is gobbled up like a 9 inch cock. To these people, anyone who writes erotica is automatically less intelligent, less educated, and of a lower caliber than all the other writers of all the other genres out there. Nobody who can write well would ever choose to write erotica. What a waste of talent that would be!

I have friends that I haven't told because they call themselves feminists and they see the whole idea of erotica as inherently damaging to women. These women love sex and talk about it as often as they can, but when it comes to reading erotica, they tend to clamp their legs together like nervous virgins. What they don't understand is that not all sex stories are about the subjugation and objectification of women.

It's a shame that there is such a stigma surrounding erotica. It's a fabulous, underrated genre that can be more empowering to women than some would ever believe. We're all adults here, so let's talk like adults. Sex is the most fun you can have with your clothes off. It feels good, and we all wish we could do it more often than we actually do. Sex can be passionate and slow, and take all night. It can be rushed and whispered in a few stolen minutes while your kid is in the shower. It can be comfortable and familiar, or it can be elaborate and creative. Sex can be so many things, but the one thing it should always be is fun for everyone involved.

I may write a story about a woman whose husband surprises her by tying her up and doing all sorts of scandalous things to her restrained body, but never, not for one single moment, are the women in my stories victims. They allow themselves to be put in situations where they can explore their dark sides. They are always willing participants, and shame doesn't wash over them when they put their clothes back on.

Erotica is a way for us to explore our own "shameful" desires. As a feminist, it's uncomfortable for me to admit that I fantasize about being licked and fucked by a room full of men and women, all of them trying to make me feel better than the person who came before them. As a woman in a happily monogamous marriage, I will never be in a situation where a room full of people compete with each other for my pleasure, but I can write about it. I can explore all those sensations in such clarity that it's almost like being there.

That's what erotica is for. It's not about setting up unattainable ideals for women to aspire to, it's not about women bending over and taking it up the ass simply because that's what a man demands of her. No, it's a way to explore the stuff you either can never or don't ever really want to experience.

It's my hope that someday, the genre will lose its stigma and that readers won't feel embarrassed by their bookshelves. I fully believe we can get there; we can vanquish this damn stigma, one well written sexy story at a time.