My Sexy Saturday: Our Sexy Holidays


This is another excerpt from my unfinished in story, but not length NanoWriMo novel. My novel was based on this story I wrote about dirty panties. Writing the novel, I veered off so far from the orginal idea! That is what happens when you are a pantser–and I am a proud one! Here is an excerpt:


“Should I keep my shoes on?” She wondered to herself, then realized that she had asked it aloud.

“Yes,” he answered simply.

Veronica picked up her gait again, walked over to his desk and placed her panties on the top of it. Before she was able to finish putting her panties down, his hand was on top of hers.

“Your pussy smells so sweet,” he said, pulling her wrist to his mouth and kissed it. “Sit on my desk.”


Saturday stays sexy here:


knickers via wikipedia


Guest Blogger Allen Dusk Invites You to Dance with the Girl Alone

Allen Dusk is a writer’s writer and does not fit into a neat category, he writes whatever he wants–and he does it deliciously and darkly! Enter his new online series The Girl Alone, that he writes in weekly increments. The premise of The Girl Alone pulled me in right away–sex and mystery?!?! I am simply thrilled to host him today!  


I would like to take a moment to thank F. Leonora Solomon for this opportunity to provide a guest post for her blog, and for the opportunity to reach out to new readers who may not know me yet. Some of you may have heard my work on Rose Caraway’s KMQ podcast, or read my work in a variety of recent anthologies. I don’t put warnings on my stories or stick to specific genres, so it’s hard for people to place me in a box with regard to what I write. You can place me in a pine box when I’m good and dead, and until then, I will write whatever I want, and not what the market demands.

About three years ago, I came up with the idea for my latest project, The Girl Alone, after having a discussion with my wife about a sad girl drinking alone at the end of a bar. Gradually the idea blossomed as I found myself delving into who this woman was, and why she was sitting there all alone. Up until that time, I had never written a contemporary erotic story. My stories have always been a blend of sci-fi, horror, or what others consider taboo (clowns anyone?), so I was nervous about entering uncharted territory. My other concern was alienating the small fanbase I’ve accumulated. However, since I don’t really stick to any one genre, I guess my fears were a bit unfounded since I really had nothing to lose and much more to gain by trying something new.

I practiced writing a contemporary piece of erotica set in a bar in my short story “Last Call.” Whenever I begin to doubt myself, I reflect on what I do well and stick to that. My wife and I enjoy traveling around to Tiki bars and sampling their drinks. I’ve always found something intriguing about the kitschy culture of Tiki, so I attempted to capture it in a story, and “Last Call” was the resort. It was fun to explore what we liked about visiting new bars and trying new drinks, and sharing that with readers through a story. While writing this story I made certain to lay the cornerstone for a hunky bartender named Lucas, and foreshadow that he was headed off to bigger and better things which would eventually unfold in The Girl Alone.

Usually I can pound out the first draft of a story in a short amount of time. The Girl Alone ran into some complications because my wife and I decided to go back to school to earn our advanced degrees. I tried to keep up with regular writing, but beneath the pressure of my 50 plus hours a week full-time job and an accelerated degree program something had to give. Unfortunately, the main character in my story had to wait it out until I wrapped my degree before she would see her story finished. Every time I sat down to write a paper, I knew she was sitting all alone, nursing an empty cocktail glass, and waiting for me to ask her to dance. I gave myself a month to decompress after wrapping school before I returned to conclude her story.

The plan for The Girl Alone from the very beginning was to release the story online for free, one chapter every week for 27 weeks (there ended up being 27 chapters…so that’s where that comes from). I wanted to practice with the serial format because just as “Last Call” was a rehearsal writing for The Girl Alone, my girl alone is practice for a larger multi-book series that will also be published in a serial format. Paperbacks, ebooks, and audiobooks will follow, but these stories will always be available free online. The Girl Alone also deliberately jumps between scenes, with chapters beginning and ending in ways that will hopefully leave readers guessing, questioning, and (hopefully) craving more. The best part about the online format is that nobody can skip to the last page and read how the story ends – at least until I post the final chapter. For those of you not yet familiar with my writing style, I pride myself in the twists I work into the ending – and my girl sitting alone at the bar will not be excluded from this expectation.

So enough of the vague discussion about the guts beneath the flesh, what is The Girl Alone really about for readers? I would like you all to meet my friend Gabby, who was recently dumped by her boyfriend, and finds her suddenly caught up in a nightclub scene where strong drinks and casual sex are merely Band-Aids stretched over gushing, emotional wounds. Gabby has a complicated journey ahead of her that some may label as transgressive, and I simply label as life. We all endure rough spots throughout out lives that leave us questioning our actions, wondering if we could have done something different to avoid the trouble where we find ourselves. In order to become whole, Gabby must accept her losses, mend her wounds, and find strength in what she fears the most. We’ve all felt alone, and Gabby’s story is my epitome of what it feels to be at rock bottom of sorrow and clinging to a shot glass for pain relief. Love is found and lost along her journey, affections are misdirected, and sometimes she just fucks people because she’s obligated to follow the rules until she gains the wisdom to make her own rules.

If you have the courage to join Gabby on her emotional journey, you can find her sitting at the corner of the bar. Saddle up and buy her a drink. If you’re lucky, you’ll find out if she’s wearing panties or not, and if you’re unlucky she may throw the glass at you while she’s cussing up a storm. I can’t blame her though. Gabby’s life has really gone to hell lately, and I’m hoping she pulls herself out of it before something terrible happens to her.

An excerpt from The Girl Alone

“Can I get you something else, or were you planning on joining your friend?”

Names of drinks flashed through her head, none of them appealing. Creeping intoxication tingled her nerves. The music suddenly dropped in volume and muffled all at once, as if she were dunked underwater. The vengeance of the Strong Island bore at her with full sails.

“How about a Redbull and vodka,” she finally said.

“I knew it. Those silly broken hearts do have a way of parching one’s throat.”

Alcohol slithered through her veins, slowing time to a crawl. It must have been seconds before Lucas returned with her drink, but she really didn’t know. She returned his smile, was fairly certain she actually said thanks, then she sat there with her lips poised on the straw without ever drinking.

Gabby spun on her stool, her glass gripped with numb fingers. Where did Bry go off to? She craned her neck searching over the crowd for any sign of her girlfriend. She was gone; lost to a sea of fun and smiles.

She gulped her frigid drink, amused the brain freeze struck her before the warmth spread down her throat. Set her glass on a coaster, which she couldn’t recall if it had been there before or not. Despair submerged her spirit, laser beams and starlight drifted past; again, she was set adrift through the universe of depression.

Lucas passed by, his handsomeness blurred by inebriated ogling. “Do you mind me asking how you plan on getting home tonight?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Well, maybe I’m in the wrong business, but I worry about pretty girls who drink as fast as you. Perhaps that’s because I made that drink stronger than I should have.”

“I’ll be fine. I realize we hardly know each other, but you can trust me.” Gabby’s words slurred. Her gaze drifted past Lucas. “I’ve learned to get around just fine on my feet lately. No thanks to my ex-boyfriend that screwed over my credit and got my damn car repossessed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Lucas set a glass of ice water in front of her. “Promise me you’ll slow down just a tiny bit, and I’ll see to it that you get home safe and sound. I’ll even pay for the cab if I need to.”

“Deal.” Gabby gave his hand a quick shake, treasuring the sensation of his warm skin pressed around hers. Her glassy stare pursued duties along the bar. She caught him looking her way more than once. Even if it was only to check on her, his attention was still thrilling.

Layer by layer her imagination stripped him naked, revealing every detail of the tattoo scrolling over his flesh. Slowly he stroked himself, his pure desire fixated on her. Gabby gawked at the erection swelling for her honor. Bry was absolutely right; his cock was huge.


Allen Dusk is a splatterpunk at heart who enjoys toiling long hours in isolation while he’s dreaming up stories. Whether they’re horror, science fiction, erotica, or a wicked blend of genres, he enjoys keeping readers guessing where his words will take them next. He currently lives in Portland, Oregon, and when he’s not helping keep the city weird, he enjoys experimenting with photography, lusting over old horror movies, and exploring the world through geocaching. Curious readers may connect with Allen through his website

Wicked Wednesday #185 — Ode to Your Favorite Sex Toy

“I can never repay you for all you have done for me,” Margaux said to Carla, as they dressed in the tiny bathroom that could barely fit them both.

They had been closer to each other during the photo shoot. Carla was doing a photo shoot for a sex toy company’s website and once she had introduced them to Margaux, she was part of the shoot as well. The theme was ode to my favorite sex toy, and Margaux had never seen the toy in question before even in Paris.

“Oooh, I have them in several colors!” Carla had grinned, running her hand over the gold one. “And believe me the gold standard is the best…”

Margaux’s gold toy fell out of her purse in the bathroom. She and Carla almost collapsed in giggles, as they both clamored to pick up the gold toy that she was gifted after the shoot.

When they collected themselves, no one would have guessed that they had had such meager accommodations to get prepared in—they both looked like the gold standard in cocktail attire. Margaux especially, dressed literally in a gold cocktail dress and gold pumps.

They climbed into a cab, that was practically right out of the door when they left. In equally rapid fashion, Margaux stood in front of a huge television star.

“Marcus, this is Margaux.” Carla said in introduction.

“Margaux,” Marcus said, taking her hand. Kissing it. “Carla told me all about you, and showed me some of your work in Paris. We would love to audition you for an upcoming role on the show.”

Margaux was afraid that she was going to collapse. So much was happening so fast. It was almost too much. She made small talk with Marcus, and then she saw Rafe putting on his coat.

He paused when he made eye contact with her.

“Hey Carla, I see someone I know…”


Carla’s voice trailed behind her as she walked through the crowd, a little tipsy from expensive wine and itty bitty hors d’ oeuvres. She grabbed an hors d’oeuvre topped with a piece of rare meat on her way to where Rafe stood and shoved it into her mouth, and then paused in front of Rafe.

“I almost missed you…” she said, swallowing.

Rafe studied her in that way that he did that let her know that he thought she was beautiful, but most men did that.

“Yeah, I was just here for a minute. But I saw you…” He answered.

“Hi,” she whispered shyly.

Rafe looked at her.

“It’s good to see you Margaux. I hope New York is everything you want it to be. More.”

“It has been, I just met somebody who wants to audition me…”

“I have no doubt…I’ll see you at the next dinner, and I will be more careful with the gravy…”
They looked at each other for a long moment. Margaux looked after him after he left her, and she waved when he turned back.

“How do you know Rafe Stewart?”

Margaux turned to look at Carla.

“You know Rafe?”

Carla smiled at her.

“Oh honey, do I ever!”

More Wicked Wednesday here:


boulevard de clichy via wikipedia

E[Lust] No. 77 — A Stocking Stuffer From Me To You!!!

The Other Livvy Elust Header
Photo courtesy of The Other Livvy

Welcome to Elust #77

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #78? Start with the rules, come back January 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

On the Island of Mhowra

Shoulder shaming?

What becomes of the broken hearted…


~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

You can hear it in my voice.

Fingers – Please Fuck me With Just Them

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
Don’t tell me sucking dick is easy
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!


Erotic Fiction

Climbing The Corporate Ladder
A Love Letter From The Rebound Champion
Virgin Traffic Stop
A Desire To Be Watched
It’s just sex…
His Gift
Like Blue

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

V for *ahem* not me
The Lost and Found
Woman in Repose

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Amy Schumer’s: Sex Acts for Girls
James Deen, rapist?
The Trouble With “Lady Parts”

Erotic Non-Fiction

Camming On Halloween
Fresh From The Shower
Story Of Endless Love, or Just A Cold Cure?
Strap-on Fun
The moment
Bookends (side one)
“Ropes? There are ropes on this bed?”
Gawan: hands and mouth


Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark
“Longing” – From Coming Together: In Verse
Denial Denied

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Jessica Jones and Choice (Spoilers)
I want to be your submissive slut (sort of)
Memories of wax
Getting Stuck In a Rut and …
Primal Hunger. Owning It!


The Whole Picture

Writing About Writing

Writing an Experience
ELust Site Badge

Sexy Searching No. 9


Peggy could not put her legs up on the lounge chair in the lobby—there was no need to underscore her dirty panties. Well the panties that she had had on since yesterday on the plane and even though she had gained time abroad, she was not as fresh as she could be.

Her hotel room was not ready, and she was tired. She had left her luggage with the front desk, so she figured that she would go out and have a coffee. There was a Starbucks nearby—wasn’t there always?

Peggy rather liked Starbucks when she was abroad, because it was a creature comfort of home. But there were always things in the abroad ones that she could not find in the States. On the line, she saw a man that she recognized, but was not sure from where. She did not know anyone in London, so he must just have that sort of face.

A beautiful face.

She carried her coffee in one hand and her phone in the other leaving the store, hoping they had texted her that her room was ready.


The sliding doors of the hotel opened, and she sat down in the lobby again. She could smell herself. Nothing strong, but she needed a fresh pair of panties.

She settled to sip her coffee when she noticed the man that she saw in Starbucks. Now back in the hotel, she realized that she recognized him from the hotel. They had both been waiting in the lobby, and now he was outside smoking a cigarette.

Peggy had not smoked in a long time, but she figured if she could not go to her room, she could flirt with the beautiful stranger. She went outside, and walked up to him.

“Have you got another cigarette?” she asked him.

He looked at her with slit eyes.

“Can you say that again, so I can hear your accent?”

He was a native, and he had an accent—that made her clit stiffen.

“A cigarette, have you got one?”


“Yeah, that’s my name. A cigarette?”

He smiled, nodded and handed her a cigarette.

“I will light it for you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said closing her eyes, as he leaned in close to light her cigarette.

But instead, she felt his lips on hers. Her eyes flew open, and the beautiful stranger looked uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, I could not help but steal a kiss…here, take the whole package. I will go away…”
Peggy took the package of cigarettes and matches, and saw him go away like a blur.

“Ma’am, your room is ready now.”

She turned around, clutching her gifted package of cigarettes and walked back to the hotel. Instead of taking a shower right away, she was lured to the huge balcony of her room where she could gaze adoringly at London.

As soon as she got onto the balcony, she took a cigarette out of the box and lit it.

“Do you have an extra? I just recently found myself in a deficit…”

Peggy recognized his voice.

“Sure,” she said. “Let me light it for you.”

She let him take a cigarette out of the box, and she held the matches. He did not close his eyes, and she kissed him with his eyes wide open and lifted her leg up in the air.

Right then she did not care if her panties were dirty or not…


More Sexy Searching here:


marlboros via wikipedia

Masturbation Monday No. 67 & Kink of the Week Dec. 1-15: Brutalism/Concrete

The thundering that separated her and Gavin, came down the stairs past Nichy and she could not even move. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gavin come back up the stairs.

“You okay?” he asked, cupping her chin with his hand.

Nichy stared at him, gulped and nodded. They kissed, picking right up from where they left off. Nichy unbuckled his belt again, and pulled him right out of his pants. The feeling of his shaft in her hand as she stroked it–squeezed it–made her hot in the stairwell. Her temples were damp as her tongue explored Gavin’s with desperation–she was moist everywhere.

She pulled and tugged on his shaft, until he put his hand over hers.

“So you like it rough?” he asked, his mouth moist against her ear.

Nichy’s lips were parted, but she did not answer with words as she tugged at him.

He pushed her up against the wall, and her shoulder blades hit against the exposed concrete bricks because they were working in the stairwell of their building. Gavin pulled her hair, and chewed on her bottom lip.

His hand still in her hair, Gavin held her hair like a leash as they went all the way down several flights of stairs where there was no exit. Nichy’s lips felt swollen, as he pushed her up against more exposed concrete. His mouth was hot on hers, but the concrete was cool against her head as she rolled against it.

Gavin’s body was like being too close to a flame, she had never felt anything as intense as this between them. Even when they fooled around before it was not this intense. Nichy squirmed against him, demanding more from him. She kissed his chest, and he pulled up her dress, and she felt the small vibration of a run in her ultra sheer stockings against her ass. Gavin hooked his finger in the run, and tore the rest of her pantyhose. Only then did she pause in jerking him off.

“I want you inside me…finally…” Nichy said.

“Just a moment,” he said, pressing her to the concrete wall. He pulled out his wallet, and behind the bills and cards were condoms. “Do you want to put it on me?”

“If I out it on you, you will come,” Nichy giggled.

Gavin kissed her giggling mouth, as he opened the condom wrapper. Nichy pressed herself against the wall, and pulled her pantyhose down. She had just shimmied them down to her knees, when he grabbed her hips and pushed into her.

The feeling of being full was so overwhelming, that Nichy was torn between the feeling of actually having sex with Gavin and the actually having sex with him. Her thoughts were drunken, but the harshness of the exposed concrete behind her–against her head, against her shoulder blades, upper arms and ass was sobering. Her mind was in so many places until he hit just the right spot. She bit down on his lip, and he slapped her hip. To be with him, she took the unforgivingness of the wall as her cushion and embraced it. She clutched Gavin so tight, and they kissed so fiercely that she was barely breathing. But she was more alive than she had ever been for a long time. Having craved this, having craved this thing between them right that minute.

She never wanted it to end.

Nichy came as if she had been shot. Frozen against the wall, her body moved with Gavin’s until he was still. She kissed him all over, and looked down as he held the base of the condom and slipped out of her. They looked at each other with shit-eating grins, because they had finally done it. She pressed her head to the concrete, and smiled at him.


More Masturbation Monday here:


More Kink of the Week here:


concrete via wikipedia

Sinful Sunday, Week 244: Swarovski

More Sinful Sunday here:

More Polaroids Past here:


My Sexy Saturday: Her Sexy Fantasy

As promised picking up from last week, I bring you into the “sexy” galaxy of my NaNoWriMo novel! This novel was based on this story I wrote about dirty panties–but it had a mind of its own and got into a lot of other things–I still have not finished writing it! But here is another glimpse of it…

“So again what is a classy girl like you doing in a joint like this?”

She did not know if he was being facetious when he said that to her, but she looked at him through a cloud of smoke.

“Why does it matter to you about a girl like me?”

“Because maybe I was waiting for you sugar…”

She was not sure where he got that line from, but it worked on her like hell.

She went with him to the side entrance of the bar, and he opened the door for her and let her into his office. Saoirse looked around at him, and he was so close to her it felt like she would combust.

This scene is a combination of Saoirse’s sexy fantasy and reality…for more sexy fantasies, go here



knickers via wikipedia

The Epitome of Loveliness: Guest Blogger Marie Rebelle

This is a very special guest post for me, I did a teaser for my newsletter! I remember very well meeting Marie Rebelle, at Eroticon. All I can say is she is gorgeous inside and out. She is the epitome of everything a woman should be—everything a human should be. All of the good things. She is warm, loving and nurturing to this community. Marie has such grace and charm and … let me let her tell you more!

I am delighted to be a guest on Leonora’s blog today. She’s one of the loveliest people in this community and is always very supportive of my work and encouraging me, which I highly appreciate.

Who am I?

I am Marie Rebelle, owner of Rebel’s Notes, published erotic author, wife, submissive, mother, grandmother… and a myriad of other roles.

What do I do?

I started Rebel’s Notes six years ago in January 2010 and back when I started it, have never thought it will become as successful as it has. I still thoroughly enjoy doing it, as well as all the other things I am doing around it, such as Wicked Wednesday and other sexy memes I run. It’s hard work, but the amount of satisfaction I get from it and the amount of appreciation from fellow members in the community, energizes me to keep on going. It doesn’t feel like work, even though I approach it as a second job. Besides everything I do in the English sex blogging community, I also run my own writers group in the Netherlands, which have grown out to a tiny company I am expanding step-by-step. I do, however, keep this writing group separated from my Marie Rebelle persona.

How do I do it?

To be able to maintain my blog while also working full time and having a family, I have a strict planning for everything I do. I keep track of all my blogs in one Excel file, where I work with abbreviations and colors for the blogs and I plan posts ahead. There are colors for posts that still have to go live, posts that have gone live but still have to be promoted on different social platforms, and colors for posts that are live and have been promoted. Without this strict planning I would not be able to keep track of all that I do and it would have been a total failure long ago. Besides the Excel planning, I keep track of things in my agenda, for specific things that I have to do on specific days, such as reading Wicked Wednesday posts on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday evenings, posting the prompt for Sexy Searching on the last day of the month or on which evenings I have to work through the email I still need to reply to.

When do I do it?

During the day I work for a boss, like so many others. I work full time, which means you can find me in the office five days a week. The moment I get home, I switch on my laptop and I start my second job, writing and updating my blogs. My daytime job costs me energy that is replaced by ‘working’ for the sex-blogging community. In January the working hours for my daytime job is changing, which will give me a whole day extra to write and to build my own writing company.

Some people say that they don’t understand how I do it, everything that I do. Yes, I am just like anyone else, I get tired too and I also get tired when I have been working on my blogs. However, it also energizes me. It’s a different kind of tiredness from when I leave work in the afternoon after a busy day. I’m not a superwoman. I just work hard on something I love to do and where I get to help other people too.

Why do I do it?

I think in the last sentence of the previous paragraph I have already touched on this: I love to do this and I love helping other people. What is ‘this’ then? I love to write, whether fiction or fact, and I love to share my knowledge on things I have experienced or learned. I have always loved creating things, for as long as I can remember. All through my life creating was part of it: drawing, making clothes, creating websites, painting and of course, writing. In the beginning phase of Rebel’s Notes I completed quite a few paintings, but eventually I came to the point where I had to choose. I chose for writing, as by then I had also started my writing group and noticed that there was a need for this. More and more people attended the workshop meetings I had set up and I loved seeing their writing improve and learning through their experiences.

I love that I can express myself in fact and fiction, the I can express my verbal and visual exhibitionism, but that in all of it, I can help other people. The best compliment I ever got is when someone had read an article on Rebel’s Notes and they thanked me because it helped them in some or other way.

Where do I do it?

As said above, I get home, switch my laptop on and install myself on the couch. My papers and agenda are always on the seat next to me, my drink on a table on the other side. Some years ago my best friend gave me a wooden laptop standard which I call my ‘office’. On weekends I tend to sit at the breakfast table for most of the day and then move to the couch and my ‘office’ sometime late afternoon or early afternoon. This is the physical place where I do it, but of course there are many online places where you can find me:


* My primary blog, Rebel’s Notes

* Weekly meme with (not-compulsory) prompt: Wicked Wednesday

* Monthly meme where you can recreate your favorite search terms: Sexy Searching

* Experiences with menopause: The Menopause Diaries

* Tell me all about oral sex: The Oral Sex Project

* My author site: Marie A. Rebelle

* My 365 projects: Marie Rebelle’s Projects

* Follow me on Twitter

* Like my Facebook page

Thank you all for reading! I would love to hear from you!

And last, but not least, thank you to Leonora for having me on her blog!

~ Marie A. Rebelle aka Rebel


I thank Marie for being a very special lady!!!


iconic tattoo photo courtesy of Marie Rebelle

Wicked Wednesday #184 — Boundaries

“Eliza and Rafe are a lovely couple, aren’t they?”
Margaux sipped her tea with a soft smile as she looked at her sister, then feared that her cup went down with more of a thump than she had meant it to.“I knew it!” Laure said, eyeing her sister with righteous glee and pounding the table. I saw how you were looking at Rafe, and how he was looking at you…”
“Stop it Laure! I was not looking at anybody like anything! Particularly not a married man!”

“He’s not married…”

“Engaged is basically married, and I want no part of that…”

Margaux got up, and walked out onto the balcony. She hoped that her sister would not follow her because she wanted a moment to herself, to look out at New York City which was not strange to her but was not home like Paris was. 

It had been easy for her to forget about Eliza and Rafe when she saw them the first time, but the second time it was harder for her because she was very attracted to Rafe. And with the invisible leash that Eliza had on him, Margaux knew it was best to keep away from him. 

But he spilled gravy on her, and and tried to make it as little of a deal as she could. She licked it off of her legs as comic relief, but she realized quickly it had not come off that way. When Margaux excused herself to the bathroom, she found herself aroused by the idea that Rafe had spilled warm gravy all over her legs. Her mind wandered quickly in ways she did not want it to, so she focused on cleaning up the gravy spill to center herself.

The rest of the evening went well, and without incident. Margaux had shaken Rafe from her thoughts, when Laure made her spot-on observation. Laure and her were almost like twins, they were so in tune with each other. It made her happy to see Laure in New York happy, and in her element.

Moving to New York was invigorating for her, or it would be. She had already made some contacts, and was finding work even outside of being a fetish model. At one of her shoots, she was in the background for an upcoming starlet’s magazine spread who also had a retro look to her. After the shoot they had had coffee together, and now they were becoming something of friends.

“I could introduce you to Marcus,” Carla said casually, since she was on first name terms with the very sexy actor of a show that Margaux was now caught up on since she was in the States. “You are beautiful, he will love you!”

“Sure!” she had said to Carla, who she was going to see later that day. 

Margaux knew she was classically beautiful, she was not ashamed of that. Rafe had looked at her like most men look at her, recognizing she was beautiful but his invisible leash reined him in. Margaux knew that she had to put her own invisible leash on.

She was not about to have another tragic affair, in her so far theatrical love life…

She had to have boundaries…

More boundaries here:

francesca woodman via google images