Cherry

There's nothing provocative about a child smoking or pretending to be a seductive adult... Ask any father if that's what he wants for his daughter. Especially when it's nothing new. It's really a sad reminder that times haven't changed and neither have people.

Here's a new 300 from my next ebook SMOKE... It should be out in October! I'm so excited! Presales will be available in September! Have you bought or read any of my other ebooks?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Cherry

Smell of smoke.

Hint of red.

Taste of cherry

Words that are misled.

She's younger than you.

Smaller and weaker you think.

Looks can deceive.

Smarter and more cunning than sweet.

Innocence lost.

Too soon to be grown 

Too old to be ignorant.

A Harlot in a school girls dress.

She's a Vixen in youth.

A threat with cigarettes.

A puff of smoke releases toward her intended.

Coyly she smiles and licks her lips clean of the smoke.

Pursuing a married man she should forget.

She holds her cigarette far too maturely.

As she stares emptily he realizes their difference in age.

More than half his age.

A woman wouldn't stare at him the same.

He's merely ...

A conquest. 

A trophy. 

A notch.

He's just another game to this cunning creature. 

A daddy for the taking.

A sucker instead of a winner.

Ready for the sacrificing.

Another puff of smoke graces the air. Her older sisters cheer on.

Pressing and pushing the smaller one to act.

Promiscuity in training wearing her pigtails too loose.

It's more sad than provocative.

A pity she can't feel his disgust.

Sexy can't even describe her innocent frame.

Placid and smooth are her full eyes.

Tiny and frail arms that empty into small legs.

He watches and wonders if he'll get caught for returning her curious glimpse.

Less intrigued by the young unprovocative child.

He feels concern for her life.

The thought of Lolita sliding on a man's lap presses his mind to change.

To quickly look away.

Empathize a deep sorrow for the child and her lack of self love.

Turning away he finds a pair familiar eyes.

Welcome the reminder that his wife is still there. 

Smell of smoke breezes out of sight as the child looses her mark for the night.

The Most Fun

© Milton H. Greene

You know I read that Marilyn Monroe had the most fun with one of her photographers, Milton H. Greene. Although she had been photographed by other professional and talented men, Milton could capture her exactly how she was beautifully because he cared for her and  honestly she counted upon him as one of her closest confidantes and friends. She had grown so comfortable with him shooting and working with her that nudity and controversial subject matter became everyday ordinary between them. It was a unique professional and personal relationship because the two depended upon each other and their life wouldn't be the same without each other. They had a deep bond that no one could replace, only each other. Marilyn trusted Milton. His wife summed their relationship up beautifully in a single quote...

I was never jealous of Marilyn. Arthur [Miller] was always jealous of Milton, which was interesting in a way. Arthur had another life. Why should he be jealous? I didn't need Marilyn, but she sure as hell needed Milton, and he needed her, because both of them were never the same after that. These two people should have been together through thick and thin. Nothing... nothing should have put them apart. I was smart enough to realize that, it would have been a whole other life for both of them."
- Amy Greene

I think the most influential and supportive people in your life motivate you because they see you the way you are... not how they want you to be. And they simply support you as you are. 

All artists have a special relationship with their muses. Some do date or marry them and it works. Others do not but simply remain close collaborators and it works. Depends on the artist I suppose. I think all collaborators/muses become significant in each other's lives, if not romantically they are always one of your biggest supporters as a friend. Hmm?  Lovers, posers and users come and go but really amazing people are always in your life to support & encourage you. Thick and thin... 

My favorite people motivate and support each other and there's no room for interference or intercepting because of jealousy or pettiness no matter how long or short it's been between seeing each other. They know how hard and busy life is and realize how good it is to see each other succeeding or just see each other in general. And are happy for the small moments of hello's and etc. You try to keep those kinds of people around in life because they are worth it. 

Some people and friends may not see things this way and my suggestion is this: give your loved one time. A person can't stay mad at someone for loving them unless they are really unhappy with themselves. All you can do is hope that they come around. Sadly you can't chase people down and make them feel differently. It may be hard to keep going with or without them around but don't try. You know & they know how you feel about things. But you can't change how each other feels. You just have to accept missing them. :/

Here's a story from one of my ebooks about motivating someone to grow and expand themselves. It is another that is a second version and it's amazing that the second versions are sometimes the best versions. Being the best version of yourself to anyone means the world and lets others trust you.

Are you a person that hinders others or do you motivate everyone and support them? Is there anyone you have fun working with?

Enjoy!
Kisses, m. 

Letting Go

(Revision: October 2012)

Time heals all wounds. Or does it? Quite simply you have to question that logic. In time broken bones can mend. But what about broken hearts, dreams and bruised egos? There are things in life that we are trained to accept and move forward from. Loss of life, love, limb, and livelihood are all things that require a bit of recovery and never hold the same meaning once they are lost. Yet, you move on. This brings me to where I'm at tonight, standing on the top floor of this parking garage with Victoria dangling over the edge waiting to fall. Here we're having a heart to heart; trying to make her see things as I do.

Sometimes you have to move on and let go.

“Things have become so distant in this life and it's time for a change. On some human level you must feel it too? We wouldn't be here if you didn't. I can see in your eyes there's fear. I'm afraid too. Life is an experience full of opportunities. As I hold your hand tightly in mine, it seems as though I shouldn't let go. But there comes a time to let go. In order to find freedom from the constraints of humanity, you must stop fighting.”

“Don't. “She trembles and grips tighter to my hand as she begins to whimper. Shifting her weight and I'm immediately finding it harder to maintain my own balance as she hangs off the edge. Beneath us the cold air whistles and the empty streets echo our sounds.

“Darling, you must believe this when I tell you that there is nothing left of this life and who you were. Letting go is the ultimate release and only way for this...”

“I don't... JUST HOLD ON TO ME!” Victoria's shrill cry pierces the silence as she latches onto my grip tighter and begins to sob.

“Please, shh. Listen.” Tears stream down her cheeks as the sobbing grows louder. “Victoria, I need you to remain calm. It is important that you accept this. We can not linger here all night. This must be over. See this my way. I know in your heart you can. Please.”

“D-D-D-ON'T!” She stutters and begs me through her choked back tears. “Not yet. I'm not ready. I'm scared. How do I know this is the right choice? “ Her hands grip me tighter.

One might question how I find myself in this predicament. How does a person spend day in and day out convincing complete strangers to let go of life's most crucial heartbreaks, disappointment if you will and accept change. Just a simple twist of fate you could say. At one point I'd found myself on the other end of the dial, asking a stranger to solve my life's tough choice cause I couldn't do it alone. What that person gave me, the advice, well it saved my life.

Sink or Swim? Fight or Flight?

It was at that point I realized helping others who weren't able to push themselves was rewarding. Those who couldn't choose needed me. What's the harm in a little motivation? It was enough of motivation for me to take that first step myself. And I've never looked back.

Taking a hold of Victoria's arm I return her grasp whole-heartedly. “Have you let this fear affect you? We've been through this, and it's best if you embrace the situation. Give in to your true nature. Without that dedication how can you possibly hope to let go. This is your peace of mind. Face it with the strength and poise that is within you. Do not beg for life as you know it. Accept what is to come. Be Strong.”

She weakens her grip and I pull her up into an embrace.

“Are you ready?” I whisper into her ear.

“Almost,” She releases a few more tears.

“You don't have to do this.” I tell her. “If you're not ready you don't...”

“I want to. Just keep holding my hand until I'm ready.” She whispers.

My arms slowly release her body and I remain gripped in a hand lock as I lower her back down to the edge. Our eyes meet and the tears have faded. I know she's prepared herself.

“It's time?” I question and she nods. “Victoria, promise me, you will be brave about this. I know you have the courage within you. Have dignity.Don't scream.”

Her eyes indicate certainty and I know there's no going back.

“I'm ready now. Let go.”

The iron clad grip of her hand releases. There's no fear in those blue eyes. No sounds escape that determined mouth. Quietly her body descends in a graceful free fall into the dark night. Before reaching the street below Victoria whimpers loudly and arches her back spreading her wings to fly. Instincts kick in and her small form lifts with flight. With her purple and blue plumes reflecting the most brilliant colors she enters the night sky with a peaceful end to her past and a new beginning. It's probably the most beautiful thing to see a newborn embrace their true nature and let go.

Generosity

Ask and you shall receive! Some men like to recieve so much more than they give!  This doll prefers the ones that give as much as they take and adores that her favorite Ken is a generous fellow! As most of her favorite kens are generous men! She personally has little to do with the stingy ones! 

Needless to say I still think give all you can to those stingy Kens! Give it to them dolls!! Being generous is a kindness and even the Dalai Lama would encourage you to give others what they need and ask for... Why? If the roles were reversed... You know they'd give it to you even if you didn't ask for it.

 

Hmm... There's nothing wrong in asking for what you want Kens. There might be a doll out there that will give you what you want... You Never know. 

Here's one of the D-Men. From Vol. 1 & you can find it in the amazon kindle store!

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Discipline

(2-11-2011)

Dylan Montgomery never got what he wanted in life. This was mostly because he didn’t know how to get it. Always afraid of what might happen if he were to be denied so he never asked. Dylan wasn’t a bad looking fellow; in fact most women would find him attractive and quite charming. He had always been sweet and pleasant. But Dylan often found himself overlooked. Because there are men who go after what they want with a fervent desire rather than stand aside in fear, and he wasn’t one of them.

Until he met her.

May.

The introduction was quite brief but his attraction to her couldn’t be missed. The new friend of an old friend that insisted her hand forward and tried to get him to talk. Instantly he could feel her attraction for him and felt himself step back inside. Dylan had never been shy or what some might call introverted but he couldn’t help catching his own tongue when he they met. It sounded like a dream when she said his name. In response he couldn’t help but say hers. She’d smiled back widely when he said her name, May.

Although he didn’t know why she picked him, Dylan knew from the first time he laid eyes on her that she could give him what he wanted. She was exactly the kind of girl that would do it. A little bit of sweet with a lot of daring. If only he could bring himself to ask her to…

“Spank me!” His screams beg for it as the leather strap cracks before laying into his bare ass. “Darling, give it to me. I need to be punished. SPANK ME!”

Dylan wasn’t like the other boys growing up. He hadn’t any desire to misbehave. Only a desire for what came after the trouble. The reprimand. The harsh swift paddle against his bare skin meant business and he couldn’t resist. This urge developed into an insistent predilection. But whenever it came time in a relationship to tell a woman what he wanted he shied away from the very notion and walked the other way. Except when it came to May.

May wasn’t persistent like other women he’d pursued, but she always made sure that Dylan knew of her complete adoration at every chance. It was often a mere touch of the arm, a wink or a smile but he knew that she would do whatever he wanted if only he could bring himself to ask it. Dylan could only think of the others who spurned and rejected his vulnerabilities before he could ever let them in. And he always let them leave.

For weeks Dylan avoided her direct gaze in their common haunts. Embarrassed by what he secretly wanted in private. Amidst a sea of their closest friends he would find himself staring at May through the cracks and nooks but unable to face her. The very thought of what he wanted from her tormented him inside. Between two friends or more he would not allow for their closeness or flirtation. Often May would smile to encourage him further. But Dylan couldn’t manage to react fully to her encouragement. The moment would quickly pass with his tongue tied in knots.

“Give me more.” May loosens up the leather strap and waits for him to insist once again before giving a little more. And he does. “More!”

When the cat and mouse of things had become quite hard for him to bear, Dylan decided that he needed to take an action. An action that seemed too bold but completely necessary. Dylan extended an evening invitation to May who agreed. And things proceeded smoothly until he began to think of what he really wanted to do and say. With those thoughts their intimacy had quickly become a moment that flushed his face leaving him to catch his tongue once again.

Dylan knew May to be armed with an interesting knack for sensing a person’s tension. It wasn’t a shock that she continued to remain close to him. Dylan understood that it was her only desire to encourage him further. It couldn’t be denied that she truly enjoyed Dylan thoroughly.

Her remaining closeness kept his heart racing. And the racing of his heart sent his pulse into a frenzy. At last he decided to react instead of ducking behind anything to avoid the obvious. With a swift and direct hand he raises and smacks her across her backside before telling May exactly what he wants. The firm hand of discipline that only she could give him. With a slight twist in her smile and lean of her head, May leans into his right ear with a whisper that tells Dylan she’d have no problem giving him what he wanted.

“More? I’ve been very bad, May. I think I need more. Give me more. MORE!” Lashing after lashing continues by the course of her extended hand.

May tells him “let me” before tying Dylan’s hands far above his head. Both his legs spread and waiting for the sting upon his bare skin. Dylan feels overjoyed as their moment is brought to realization by the swift sharp slap of her hand.

Dylan Montgomery was getting exactly what he wanted for the first time in his life and all he had to do was ask for it.

Revisiting The D Chronicles - (Men): Damn Tasty?

Damn! The things people do... Some things that people might do are quite interesting... some might even say tasty? I suppose it depends on your personal predilections and tastes. Anyhow here's a interesting story taken from my ebook D-Men and an interesting photo that reminds me of the things that people do. It's from one of my personal favorite photogs. Type in the link into your browser if you'd like to see more photo work.

Kisses, m.

photo credit: the business man - c/o tylershields.com

Damn!

“Damn!”

Sometimes you find yourself in a situation that warrants a certain action. The delicate handling of an otherwise tricky circumstance. And on this night in the back of an old Coupe de Ville Yancey Taylor found himself in one of those situations that certainly warranted handling.

Yancey Taylor wasn’t anyone that anybody would notice. Hell even his name wouldn’t catch your attention. Back then he was a shaggy haired kid that hadn’t grown into himself. Now Boots McGhee might roll off your tongue just a little bit more appropriately.  And as such it did. Yancey always was a ladies man but mostly without the ladies before Boots the rocker picked up. But that’s getting a little ahead of things.

Now in any story they’ll tell you what happens wasn’t much fun. In the case of Boots McGhee every story was more than ample fun and that was hardly overstating the obvious.

Yancey Aloysius Taylor was the son of a carpenter. He wasn’t much for following in his old man’s footsteps. Picking up a hammer couldn’t quite compare to picking up a guitar. As matter of fact as young as he could remember he always wanted to be a musician. So it came as no wonder that he did. Yancey Taylor played with a band for five odd years before it went platinum, gold and silver. And that’s when good ol’ Boots McGhee came round to show ‘em a thing or too.

Boots had a following with the ladies from the beginning. Right down to the tips of his boots he had something going for him. His namesake was the thing that landed him on the scene. That was the thing with good ol Boots. He had a reputation that preceded him with all the ladies. And sure enough the word got around. Every gal wanted a part of the man. Didn’t matter if he had an old lady or not, they all wanted him just the same. On more than one occasion he kept a good time gal exclusive for a string of shows. Didn’t happen too often but it happened.

Young, old, middle aged made no difference for the most part. Except. Well we all have our preference for things. As most men do, Boots certainly had a preference when it came to women. A fine connoisseur,  his typically included a particularity for jail bait.

Middle-aged washed up rocker or not, some things never change…

Underage Sally wasn’t the first, the last and most certainly wouldn’t be the only on his list. Seventeen teen queen wanted to meet her favorite guitar man after the show. Well Boots obliged that young thing the honor when he took her back to his Coupe De Ville after the show. Straight to the backseat with a bottle of his favorite bourbon and his favorite pair of boots.

This particular night was about the same as all the other times he’d taken a young thing back to the car with him. Except on this occasion Bo0ts got a little more than he’d expected. Sally Seventeen sure knew her way around a backseat as much as how to work the man sitting in it. Boots didn’t mind so much as long as he got to keep his mouth on the bottle and enjoy the ride.  According to good old Boots there wasn’t anything in this world quite like looking at a naked woman while she’s playing cowgirl with him.

She told him to hold her close.

And he held her close.

From behind she looked a bit like an angel and he told her as much while stroking her back. She smiled and he knew but couldn’t see it. Soft curls of brown bounced quickly in front of his face. With every movement she tilted her hips further backward. The farther back she pressed against him, the faster he felt himself climb. Eager to prolong things a bit more…

Spread a little wider is what he told her.

And that’s what she did.

Somewhere between the front and the middle Boots brought in a pinch hitter size 12 ½ double wide. And that’s exactly what the doctor ordered. A push of his heel and a press his bare hand his good ol boot came directly into play. Without much thought Sally wasn’t thinking when she felt the other player enter the game and fell right into the rhythm of things.

You might begin to wonder if a man like good ol Boots served any jail time over a little bit of bait. Well that’s where this story gets interesting if you know what I mean.

Handling business on this occasion was exactly what Boots and his underage companion were doing when it happened. It might have been the way that underage filly was giving the old boy a run for his money or it might have been that the boot fit in just the wrong way. Sure enough though somewhere between climax and carefree that little gal caught herself on the tip of his boot.

But bleeding, that’s not what happened to catch their attention. Now what stopped them from climbing any higher was something altogether different. It wasn’t even a wonder that anyone had been hurt when the siren’s sounded across from the vehicle.

“Damn” is what he thought as much as what he said when the cops pulled up to the ride. There wasn’t much to it when the ride came to an end. Sally even leaned back and kissed him when he let her down real gentle. Even with the sight of their bloody mess she kissed even harder.

These things happen is what she said with a laugh.

So “these things happen” is what he told them. But that was before they saw there was blood. Enough blood to make a situation necessary to handle.

After there was blood they said he’d be lucky to stay out of jail. And lucky he was when Sally Seventeen said she’d been expecting a visit from her Aunt. The police didn't like it much but they had to agree it was a ace trick he had up his sleeve. And in the end, the only thing that stuck Boots in jail that night was two counts of breaking his probation for the alcohol.

See Yancey Taylor wasn’t a legendary man, but good ol Boots McGhee he was such a man. And now some might say what happened was legendary and some say that’s how legends are made. But one thing’s for certain, on that night that’s what good old Boots did. He made himself a legend with little Sally Seventeen.