Sunday, May 26, 2013

Recovery

 
 
I'm still here-, working through a lot of stuff.  But vow to distribute something soon, even if it's wrong. 
 
I like wrong.
Will never be vanilla.
Hell, I don't even want to try.
 
 

 


Tuesday, December 4, 2012

A Lost Year...


This is time I can never reclaim.  I hope to move forward productively over the next twelve months with the ferocious mindset to go my own way and break every rule others would slam into my creativity.  Best wishes to everyone for 2013.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

My Absence






I arrived home today after a very long time away due to illness and other family matters. Unfortunately I'll be off again a few days after the start of the New Year to resume working on medical issues, but I hope to publish a new short erotic work soon.

For those who continue to stop by, I thank you for your interest and wish you the very best for 2012.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

A Long Time Coming...

Due to illnesses that I'm still battling, getting the last part of 'Plaything Pt. 3 - The End' completed took far longer than I ever expected.  However it's now done and you'll find a download link to the left

Friday, March 4, 2011

Struggling

I haven't been able to shake the depression that's plaguing me.  So I write a little, delete a lot and feel miserable the whole time.  Second-guessing every word and turn of phrase, in hopes of pleasing the masses, deepens the dark gloom I'm living in.  

What happened to writing for me, for my enjoyment?  

Deep breath.  No more sniveling.  I'll think wicked, erotic, wild thoughts and just allow my fingers to play over the computer keys like a lover's caress.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Plaything Pt. 3 Excerpt



With tender touches, I’ve loved Hannah for hours, wanting to delay the next part of my game. It could be detrimental and no matter how much I want her, I’ll leave Hannah if she fights against my will.
Caressing her cheek, I then trail my fingers along the line of her face, down the curves of her body and a wave of desire crashes into me. I’ve been hard since I opened my eyes and found Hannah snuggled against my side. I’ve always wanted closeness with her. Even predators-in-disguise need the simple things in life, freedom to rise daily and do their girl missionary style. Cupping her breast, imaginings of Hannah beneath me, lustily taking my cock, fog my mind.
To keep from making the vision real, I ease from around her and venture to the bathroom. In short time I return to swipe a damp cloth over her body, erasing traces of me from her face, smudges of Raven and Ramsey from her thighs. My pulse quickens, the dog in me sniffing the increasing aroma of his mate’s prime cut. Pressing my mouth to her nether lips, I tongue the folds, flick her clit. Her heartfelt moans stir my soul. I feel Boo lift her hips and hands that once pushed me away, pull me close. Resting my forehead against her mound, I resist a silent call to come on down.
When the pre-game jitters subside, I wander back to the bathroom for a cold shower. My head is clearing, desire diminishing and I accept it’s her time to do or die. I tell myself she’s wanted what’s coming, except she hadn’t expected it to be real. Damn, why couldn’t she have been satisfied with what we had?
Returning to Hannah’s side, I dress her in black lace, camouflaging temptation. Nuzzling her neck, I breathe in her scent, knowing this is what I want every morning. In order for that to happen, Hannah has to accept my rule.
If she advances through the closing play, where I’ll strip away the last of her innocence, Boo’s eyes will be opened wide to Jhumar Castiglione and I won’t be a better man standing before her. I’ll show her I’ve always been what she’s fantasized about.
Hannah just has to prove her loyalty. I’d like to say Boo has my confidence, but I can’t. She can be cold as ice and quick to anger. I haven’t forgotten her threats and this weekend, I’ll have given her a grip of reasons to blow me away. Hannah’s been asking the kittens about us, my business and of course, the Cuban. By now, she probably believes he’s buried somewhere. If she were mad enough, I’m sure she’d tell anyone who’d listen what she thinks she knows. But I’m holding my breath and hedging my bets that I’ve played her right.