erotic Stories
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.
Comments on "Cinq Cinquains Amoureux"
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Beth said ... (8:01 AM) :
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Paul said ... (3:02 PM) :
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Chris said ... (8:31 AM) :
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Red Bud said ... (11:18 PM) :
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The Secret Aphrodisiac said ... (6:19 PM) :
post a commentThat last one? I like the poignancy: "mending and breaking my heart ~ will I notice when you grow tired."
RG, succinct and intriguing, I like.
Thank you.
Warm hugs,
Paul.
Well, I'm not familiar with Cinquains, but I love your abstract choice of words. It's very emotive.
And you write poetry?
Remittance Girl, you are lovely. Your cherry imagery reminds me of a sweet little passage by Shakespeare.
...when her arms/
Able to lock Jove from the synod shall/
Bu warranting moonlight corslet thee; O, when/
Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall
Upon thy tasteful lips, what wilt thou think/
Of rotten kings or blubbered queens? What care/
For what thou feel'st not, what thou feel'st being able/
To make Mars spurn his drum? O, if thou couch/
But one night with her, every hour in't will/
Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and/
Thou shalt remember nothing more than what/
That banquet bids thee to./
Now that was a man who knew what he loved.
I'm liking the poems, and the site also. It's horny whilst still being excellent writing! A perfect combination in my opinion.
I'm just starting to write my own erotic fiction site - I hope I can one day write as well as you do!