erotic Stories
The Baptism "Ssssh."
The woman's lips were almost obscenely plump. Like a ripe purple plum, squeezed and split in two along its cleft, they parted to reveal an almost serpentine tongue. It slithered out, curling at the tip like a whore beckoning a client.
Voice "Ssssh."
The voice hissed in Jillian's ear. She couldn't see who made the noise but she felt the hot, moist breath on the back of her neck. Lying face down on a hard but covered surface, she craned her neck around and blinked repeatedly. There was nothing but an all-engulfing blackness.
Better Left Unsaid
Dragging me across his lap, he ceremoniously pulls up the hem of my skirt and wrenches down my panties. Surveying the territory only momentarily, he brings his big, flat palm down onto my right ass-cheek with a loud smack
Not About Flowers
She couldn't even begin to find the words for the way the writing made her feel. She couldn't tell him. Not in English, or Spanish or any other language. There weren't words beyond words...were there?
The Ship's Figurehead
A tramp steamer, a dead dame, and too many, horny suspects. A Hank Ransom Noir erotica
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The Illustrated Teacher
There are things a woman can teach herself, and others that require instruction.
Performance Art
Chapter 2 of an ERWA TAG projects Based loosely on characters created by Nan Andrews. What happens to a man who's existence is wholly visual?
The Dinner Party
Isabel gets invited to a dinner party out in the middle of nowhere. The cliquish guests are rather strange, and no one told her what was on the menu.
Visitors From Japan
The first, tentative probings were terrifying. Something slick and wet nudged at the lips of her pussy and wriggled in between.
Gaijin
She knew nothing about the Japanese male psyche. A year of flattering them hadn't given her any insight into what made them tick, really.
Midnight at Seremetyevo
Oh yes, I could have still been good and decent and kind, but hunger was gnawing at my muscles and the scent of him was eating tiny holes in my skin.
Grown-Up Games
The slap that came made her gulp air, and the hand on the back of her neck tightened, holding her to the table. The pain flashed in neon colours behind her lids.
The Spy Who Loved His Wife James searched his mind... he couldn't even remember what Camilla Reeves looked like. It wasn't that James had been a saint but he didn't much go in for other men's wives - too complicated.
Therapy She wasn't naturally acquiescent. He could tell as he fed on her mouth. She was held together with string, he suspected. He wanted to know how many knots it would take to tease her apart.
Well, I'm home and a little sad to be here. I had such a wonderfully relaxing time in Thailand where I did pretty well nothing but lie by the pool, eat and shop. I wasn't all that happy with the pictures I got, and I found myself being a little too timid to go up to ladyboys and ask them if I could take their picture. Maybe if I spoke a little Thai?
Comments on "Back Home"
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Musns said ... (11:40 PM) :
post a commentWhy are women always being told they are not beautiful enough even if they are GORGEOUS?!
The picture is GORGEOUS. I thought it was you...
The Jordan Matter site is great! What a way to showcase the spectrum of not only how women look, but how they feel about how they look. My favorite's the biker chick.
I also think it's funny that there's so little reaction from other New Yorkers in the photographs - with the exception of the guy with the finger, and the woman covering her son's eyes!
Amazing how shallow people can be. Most people I know would either be thrilled to look like her or to date her.
Well, they say is takes all kinds to make a world, why do we have to have so many like that agent?
Glad you got home safely.
Take care, linda
Hi RG: Women should take a lesson from Jen Hudson, Oscer winner the other night, size 16 or 18 I don't know, but she is so happy with her body, and had to tell the designer's that was who she was, and work from there. She is beautiful. You have not mentioned Lisabet? I just got her book "Raw Silk" how erotic is is, something like you write RG. Have a wonderful Saigon day. love
richard
P>S. Have missed you!!!!
Just so we're clear on this - that picture IS NOT ME.
*grin*
rg
It's a great set of photographs.
I'm a big fan of breasts, myself.
Those are indeed magical moments in New York. I once had the good fortune to walk, by myself, up 6th Avenue in the middle of the street in a raging snow storm with not a car, taxi or bus around. It was a moment of heaven.
And those photos are fantastic. Thanks passing along the link. - D
Beautiful picture, rg. Welcome back. No pressure, but get to writing. There's no rest for the wicked.
-D
What a gorgeous picture.
And I fully agree with J.T. Benjamin. I was offered a modeling contract when I was twenty three, and I weighed thirty pounds less than I do now. They told me I would get more work if I lost about fifteen pounds.
I don't know if you've seen recent pictures of me, but that would be Current Me minus 45 pounds.
Talk about revolting. I told them to take their contract and shove it. I didn't need that kind of shit being shoved down my throat, not for all the money in the world.
Ugh!!!
Breasts are lovely and I adore Jordan Matter's photo's on the subject.
The one that caught my attention was the woman who had had reconstructive surgery after having a mascectomy due to breast cancer. Her comments on the side really peaked my interest, as it is one of my greatest fears to lose my breasts due to some type of disease and/or cancer. It made me rethink what it is that makes me a woman.