contest

Créme In Your Coffee

This is my entry for the latest Sex Blog (of sorts) contest. The last time it was a nail polish color–my story Polished was in the top three! This time it is lipstick. My color was créme in your coffee…

Dinah put on her lipstick, licked her lips and as they were pressed together could not help but notice that the lipstick was the exact color as her nipples. Smiling to herself she kissed the mirror before her, admiring the imprint of her lips on it.
She was in the mood, she knew it as she hesitated putting on her clothes and applied her lipstick naked. Looking down at her breasts, she pressed them together and lifted them up so she could see the color of her nipples close to her mouth. Looking at her own full breasts got her even more aroused, and she pulled one close to her lips and rubbed it with her tongue. The soft skin excited her and she pulled both breasts to her mouth, alternately caressing her lips with either nipple. There was lipstick all over her nipples, which let her see that the color really was the same. Dinah kissed her breasts in earnest then, moving over her coffee cup that was on the dresser to sat on top of it so she could kiss her breasts and suck her nipples. She saw her reflection in the mirror out of the corner of her eyes—her créme in your coffee-colored lips, kissing her tight as rosebud nipples.
Letting her breasts fall, Dinah saw her hard nipples in the mirror. She put her finger in her mouth, before circling one nipple with it. At the same time, she slipped her finger into herself. She used that finger to circle her clit. Tilting her head up, she closed her eyes and let those tiny circles expand until they blended together and she came on top of the dresser.
Dinah opened her eyes, and she saw he was using his binoculars.
She had been playing this game of show and tell with her neighbor for a while. This morning, she had just wanted to play like usual. But knowing that he was home and could probably see her, made she want him. At least she wanted that she had seen of him through the window. Her heartbeat pumped inside her like the sensation of her orgasm, as she slid off of the dresser and walked out of her room.
And then she returned to her room, to retrieve her cup of coffee.
Her cold cup of coffee.
Dinah walked into the kitchen, and placed her mug in the microwave. When the doorbell rang, she assumed it was the package she was expecting and walked into her room to slip on her robe. She could not resist looking to see if he was still across the way—maybe hoping for a curtain call?
But he was not there.
“Coming,” she grinned to herself, thinking she had just come.
When she got to the door and saw him on that side, she pressed her back to it. Patrick, her neighbor stood there with a measuring cup.
They talked, but never inside of each other’s homes. Their game had been accidental. When he just moved in, she did not know he was there and was fully naked when she saw him across the way. It was their joke to “accidentally” be naked, in some state of undress for the other. But then one day, he pulled himself out of his jeans. To top him, she walked around without panties. Each one of them had upped the ante. But the show that she just put on? Well she did not know what he thought.
She opened the door.
“I was just wondering if you had any cream? I need for my coffee…”
“You do not have cream for you coffee?” she questioned, pressing her head against the doorjamb and grinned.
“No, it spoiled. And I have not got any sugar either. Have you got sugar?”
“Yes, I have cream and sugar. But I drink my coffee black…”
Patrick walked in, and closed the door behind him.
“So do I—“
They walked into the kitchen.
“Someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah…” he sang behind her.
“You didn’t—“ She turned around to face him for singing the line from the infamous song.
Right then he did kiss her. So soft and sweet. Dinah showered him with soft kisses of her own. When they parted, her créme in your coffee lipstick was all over his collar.
He pulled her close, sitting her on top of the kitchen table. She knocked over the mug of coffee she had just heated up, and Patrick slapped her bottom hard. When she opened her mouth to protest, he pressed her nipple that he had been caressing her lips with into her mouth.
Dinah was in the kitchen with Patrick and sucked her own nipple hard for him, filled with anticipation of what was the come.

Read more entries here.

This Prompt Got Picked for Fourth Place!!!

I was on the train, and took this picture based on a comment that sub-Bee made on this post. I cautiously took this photo, because it reminded me of the image that she described:
There is something truly hot about being on my knees in front of a man in a suit.

I was not planning to enter this contest, but with that inspiration, and since my friend Oleander was lovely enough to host it–I did!
Congratulations to Julia Von Rist the winner, read her story here, and find the rest of the results here!

For an encore…here is my story–with a new filter on my photo!

Veronica wanted him so bad, sometimes she couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t because he was one of the top executives in her company, she had ached for him before that. When he was an architect just out of grad school she had, and now he was a partner at the firm. She started as a receptionist, and now she was an executive assistant.
His.
Their careers were in very different directions, but they had known each other the entire time. He did not have that air about him that so many of the others at the firm did. He was always accessible and warm to her. Whether he was going to a meeting and wore jeans á la business casual–the way only he knew how–or he was in a three-piece suit, his affect on her was almost fatal.
He had a particular passion for watches, his one excess, his one vanity and she admired it. He had catalogs from all of the auction houses on a shelf in his library. She got them all, either walking to the one that was near them or having them messengered over.
Veronica bid for him over the phone. He never had a limit, he just expected her to win it and she always did. Including one for his former fiancée. It had been hard for her to look at the delicate diamond piece that he had selected for her. Veronica knew he did not ask for it back when they ended their engagement, and that made her crush on him even harder.
If that was possible.
Her fingers moved languorously over the red tab that marked the pocket watch that he had his eye on. She let her finger linger over it, imagining it on his lightly haired wrist. Veronica especially wanted to win this watch for him. He was moody since he had broken up with his fiancée, and it was would cheer him up.
Veronica waited on the phone, while she was looking at his schedule. Being his right-hand also meant that she was responsible for all of the administrative staff, so when a literal fight broke out between two of her admins…she had to run to break it up.
When she came back to her desk, she had underestimated the time it would take for his lot to come up. Damn it! She had missed the lot! His lot!
It was with a heavy tail between her legs, that she knocked on his door. He sat inside facing it.
“Can you close the door, Veronica?”
She nodded, her tight chignon even tighter as she did.
“You were not at your desk, and you missed the lot.”
“How did–”
She wanted to snatch back her words, how dare she question him? Nervously, she tugged at the edge of her silk blouse first, then her pearls.
“How did I know? I just happened to get off of my conference call early, and was going to tell you I could do it for a change. When I buzzed you, you were not at your desk…”
She twisted the pearls, and bit her lip.
“You’ve never disappointed me before V, this is uncharted territory for us. You are always perfect. How are you going to make me feel better…about this?”
The length of his gorgeous tall frame was slouched in his chair.
“So much is going wrong around me V, and now even you…”
“I always want to please you–”
He raised an eyebrow at her. His desolate expression shifted, as he studied her face.
“I usually please you don’t I?” she asked.
He sat up straight, and suddenly in her silk dress that was only sheer on the top and the edge of the skirt, Veronica felt transparent.
“You always please me V, you always have…”
Veronica was unable to breathe, as he stood up and walked toward her. His finger caressed a tiny polka dot in the sheer area of her dress.
“There is only one thing I want more than that watch, and it cannot be bid on. You do not have a price tag do you Veronica?”
“What do you mean?!” She huffed, her breasts rose between them.
“I phrased that clumsily, I meant you are not for sale. But I want you…I’ve always wanted you.”
Veronica saw that iconic scene from Butterfly 8, when Elizabeth Taylor writes “No Sale,” on a mirror with lipstick.
“But what about your fiancée?”
“I wanted you first…”
“But you never…”
“We work together so I never, but now only you can make me feel better…”
He kissed her, and she pulled away from him panting. He caressed her scalp and loosened her chignon, before he steered her back gently against the door. Veronica held his hand, her finger slipping inside the band of the gorgeous watch he wore today. He took her hand and put the watch on her, slipping it up along her arm until it fit.
“That’s all I want you to wear right now…” he said pulling at his tie.
Veronica took his hand, and kissed it.
“You can leave your suit on, and tighten your tie.”
“Why?”
“It’s how I always imagined it when I fantasized about you…”

Read more about this post here!

newly filtered photo by f dot leonora

Pick a prompt, any prompt…

I was not planning to enter this contest, but my friend Oleander casually mentioned she would like it if I did. Well right after she said that to me, I was on the train and took this picture based on a comment that sub-Bee made on this post. I cautiously took this photo, because it reminded me of the image that she described:

There is something truly hot about being on my knees in front of a man in a suit.

I chose prompt number eight (spontaneous office sex) for the contest:
You can enter too!


Veronica wanted him so bad, sometimes she couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t because he was one of the top executives in her company, she had ached for him before that. When he was an architect just out of grad school she had, and now he was a partner at the firm. She started as a receptionist, and now she was an executive assistant.

His.

Their careers were in very different directions, but they had known each other the entire time. He did not have that air about him that so many of the others at the firm did. He was always accessible and warm to her. Whether he was going to a meeting and wore jeans á la business casual–the way only he knew how–or he was in a three-piece suit, his affect on her was almost fatal.

He had a particular passion for watches, his one excess, his one vanity and she admired it. He had catalogs from all of the auction houses on a shelf in his library. She got them all, either walking to the one that was near them or having them messengered over.

Veronica bid for him over the phone. He never had a limit, he just expected her to win it and she always did. Including one for his former fiancée. It had been hard for her to look at the delicate diamond piece that he had selected for her. Veronica knew he did not ask for it back when they ended their engagement, and that made her crush on him even harder.

If that was possible.

Her fingers moved languorously over the red tab that marked the pocket watch that he had his eye on. She let her finger linger over it, imagining it on his lightly haired wrist. Veronica especially wanted to win this watch for him. He was moody since he had broken up with his fiancée, and it was would cheer him up.

Veronica waited on the phone, while she was looking at his schedule. Being his right-hand also meant that she was responsible for all of the administrative staff, so when a literal fight broke out between two of her admins…she had to run to break it up.

When she came back to her desk, she had underestimated the time it would take for his lot to come up. Damn it! She had missed the lot! His lot!

It was with a heavy tail between her legs, that she knocked on his door. He sat inside facing it.

“Can you close the door, Veronica?”

She nodded, her tight chignon even tighter as she did.

“You were not at your desk, and you missed the lot.”

“How did–”

She wanted to snatch back her words, how dare she question him? Nervously, she tugged at the edge of her silk blouse first, then her pearls.

“How did I know? I just happened to get off of my conference call early, and was going to tell you I could do it for a change. When I buzzed you, you were not at your desk…”

She twisted the pearls, and bit her lip.

“You’ve never disappointed me before V, this is uncharted territory for us. You are always perfect. How are you going to make me feel better…about this?”

The length of his gorgeous tall frame was slouched in his chair.

“So much is going wrong around me V, and now even you…”

“I always want to please you–”

He raised an eyebrow at her. His desolate expression shifted, as he studied her face.

“I usually please you don’t I?” she asked.

He sat up straight, and suddenly in her silk dress that was only sheer on the top and the edge of the skirt, Veronica felt transparent.

“You always please me V, you always have…”

Veronica was unable to breathe, as he stood up and walked toward her. His finger caressed a tiny polka dot in the sheer area of her dress.

“There is only one thing I want more than that watch, and it cannot be bid on. You do not have a price tag do you Veronica?”

“What do you mean?!” She huffed, her breasts rose between them.

“I phrased that clumsily, I meant you are not for sale. But I want you…I’ve always wanted you.”

Veronica saw that iconic scene from Butterfly 8, when Elizabeth Taylor writes “No Sale,” on a mirror with lipstick.

“But what about your fiancée?”

“I wanted you first…”

“But you never…”

“We work together so I never, but now only you can make me feel better…”

He kissed her, and she pulled away from him panting. He caressed her scalp and loosened her chignon, before he steered her back gently against the door. Veronica held his hand, her finger slipping inside the band of the gorgeous watch he wore today. He took her hand and put the watch on her, slipping it up along her arm until it fit.

“That’s all I want you to wear right now…” he said pulling at his tie.

Veronica took his hand, and kissed it.

“You can leave your suit on, and tighten your tie.”

“Why?”

“It’s how I always imagined it when I fantasized about you…”

Read more about this post here!

filtered photo by f dot leonora

TIE ME UP BOOK CONTEST & READING!!!

Already there are five-star reviews for TIE ME UP, there is still a chance to win a copy of the book or to see it come to life right before your eyes…well not that way!

If you want to win a copy of the book, you can leave a comment with a bondage-themed photo or scenario for me, make it HOT…or you can win it in a raffle tonight at the Between the Covers reading on the Lower East Side! We will be reading tantalizing excerpts as you have seen on my blog

You know you want a copy…enter and win!!!

A Break From Fiction, But Still a Prompt!

The truth of the matter is this post is a challenge.
I had looked at my blog lately and kept thinking, insert non-fiction post here–but nothing came. I wanted to be witty about the reading that I did for the Between the Covers, and the beautiful corset that I won there. I have only ever read my stories in public twice. Both times happened this year: once in Bristol at Eroticon and Between the Covers in the Bronx. The fact that they were both cities that started with the letter B, and that both stories had chocolate in them seemed like a slam dunk post wise!
But I did not write it.
I went to Paris, and if you have ever read my non-fiction posts you know I am a committed Francophile. I had every intention of writing a post about it…but somehow I never got around to doing it…I’ve written about my obsession with gadgets, yet did not even mention that I got a new iPad.
I respond well to challenges, to prompts to be more specific. I faithfully write entries for Wicked Wednesday, Sunday Snog and A Darker Flame. They are things that have to be done by a certain time. I am never tardy, I always eek my entry in right before it is due. I am doing NaNoWriMo this month, I have no trepidation about it, because I have won it before. If there is a deadline, I will meet it.
Charlie from Sex Blog of Sorts, who seems to be the only person who has wrangled me to do all of her contests, got me again! She wanted non-fiction posts and tagged me so I am doing it. A prompt, a deadline–I am up for it!
Maybe this will inspire me to make sure that I do one non-fiction post a week, I don’t know. I feel like writing–particularly on a blog–should be a labor of love. This is mine, this represents me and what an injustice it would be for me not to give genuine me. To go through the motions with a post that is not from my heart.
That being said, as a writer, I have writer friends who I wish that I was doing the things they do. That I was full of the innovation they have, and the stamina. I can proudly say I am getting there. I posted today on Twitter from Brain Pickings, Neil Gaiman’s rules for writing. I cannot agree with him more. I have never read one of his books, but I can understand why people read him if that is the discipline that he is following. All the time I have been a writer, if you asked me I would tell you that I was a writer even before telling you I was an editor. Well I was a writer long before I was an editor! Yet I was always happy to beat myself up about all kinds of things deterring from getting done what I said I would not be able to live if I wasn’t doing it.
Writing.
In the past few months, I have written a great deal more than I have in the past. I am a ton more disciplined, and my writing style has improved in ways I cannot even have imagined. Writing more improves your ability to do it, amazing! You will be able to see an example of this in the upcoming Chemical [se]X anthology edited by my friend, Oleander Plume. Again it was a prompt, she asked me to do it. So I did write a story, called Chocolate Covered.
It is amazing to me that the drive to write can come so strongly from outside sources, I am working on strengthening it from the inside.
Okay, I am going to make the deadline! I need to return to NaNo! The NaNo challenge is going very well, and then a little later I have a snog to give you for tomorrow…well a Sunday Snog!

typewriter via life magazine