Violently Sexy

Can something be violently sexy? This one is R-Rated. No really, it was a little too risqué for some sites that I contribute writing to. It's a little sex and violence and in the midnight hour such things never hurt anyone. Needless to say... there's nothing more interesting than someone reading my older work and being inspired by it. I'm simply awe-striken that anyone would take the time to pilfer among the older stories. Well, here is one of my darker inventions. If you don't like death or murderous fiction... I'll insist it's a pass. I was intrigued once by the darker human elements. A few of my favorite fellows nowadays insist I give it up, and I do find less time for it, but I can manage a few minutes here and there.

Enjoi?!

Kisses, m. 

Between my legs

(12-9-09)

Between my legs. Lies a hope for the future. Safety. Love. My insecurity? The reason he strayed is between her legs. The reason I stay is between mine. Infidelities he shouldn't have. We're both crying. Both aching. Knowing it’s too damn hard to watch him leave each time. Welcoming him back into my arms despite these flaws. Into the warmth, the depths where he’d linger too long. Falling and fading quickly, taking me down with him. Consumed by desire. A dark desire that is delicately hidden but ever so welcoming. Watching him savor the taste like drinking a hearty pinot noir as the flavor deepens into a meaningful experience. An exceptional wine, meant to be slowly enjoyed down to every drop.

Disappointment. My weakness. Inadequacies as a female. The one thing that sells you short as a woman is there between your legs. Never being taken seriously. As a woman it will keep you weak if you choose. Deprive you of love if you let it. Or allow the true nature within to become empowered by it. Controlled. Demanding. Eve in the Garden of Eden with that convincing apple. Damned is the man that believes he is manipulating a woman. A woman is a cool calculating creature never to be trusted or taken lightly despite what lies between her legs.

Waiting for him to return one more time. Deep down knowing that the game never changes, yet I’ve been foolish enough to continue this way. Sitting carefully, naked in the cold dark kitchen at the small table I trace my fingers carefully along the Formica surface. My bare skin is alive with the anticipation of his return. Element of surprise. It is my very intention to seduce and distract. The pressure of cool metal steel is nestled against the inside of my thigh as I wait. Looking down I can see the invention of death between my legs. Just as I continue to think he hasn’t returned soon enough the front door moves. Quickly my hand reaches in pushing aside the revolver where his eyes can not see. Nothing but my smile and open invitation.

Carefully the dark room masks his face as he moves closer to me. Only his eyes are visible as he makes his way forward. From the looks of it, he’s quite pleased to find me unclothed and honest. Standing over me his hands reach down into my hair and along my neck. An extraordinarily hard kiss as he makes an effort to lean in. The roughness of the moment is intoxicating as his grabbing hands continue to trail along my bare skin. Hands around my hips and in the small of my back as lips move downward, tracing their way from neck to breasts, then further. My ambitious efforts have me fumbling through his clothing, unclasping and removing, as he advances. As he reaches my navel I continue to reassure him by gently stroking his hair; beautiful hair, dark, thick and lush. Head movements find a balance as he nears my thighs. Tug at the back of his head to make eye contact. Lifting eyes meet mine in a piercing stare. Shh! He calms me with a smile before reaching between my legs.

Slowly I part my legs further and give way. Sliding the gun out from its hidden place, ever so silently, with a scoot of my thigh. Removing the cold steel instrument of death as he bends forward to kiss the inside of my thigh. Lips continue to softly caress my inner thigh as his hands come around to circle my hips and pull forward. Silently I find a place beneath his temple. Bare. Visible to my aim. Rocking my hips forward to meet his increasing movements, with my target in sight, I squeeze the trigger tenderly releasing death. Between my legs.

Sensual

Sensuality and the carnal action of most sexuality is felt to hinder enlightenment by some in Buddhism while it is adopted that you respectfully refrain from wrong doing in sensuality. You refrain from intercourse with underage, married and engaged partners and those protected by family or law. The Buddha held a very realistic view that can be possible in modern conditions. There's a respect and desire not to cause another suffering in Buddhism and this translates to sexuality. You see in most western cultures the exploration of sex, like most pleasure seeking activities can cause suffering between those involved. Either deliberate or unintentional. In Buddhism there are no laws, rules or commandments to obey. It is not a biblical religion and purely lies in your ability to restrain yourself and engage in behavior that is mutually consensual. Simply put: If a behavior does not feel good you do not do it; If a behavior feels appropriate you allow yourself to feel it. This premise transfers to sex and the connection people can experience with one another. Sensuality isn't a bad thing, being disrespectful of your partner and yourself is. 

Here's a bit of erotic flash fiction that I wrote a few years ago. I had it published online but the site has restructured. As soon as I hear back from the editor I will drop the link for you dirty birds. 

Enjoy! 

Kisses, m. 

Voyeur

(2-26-10)

Voyeur. People watching. Everyone does it. No one thinks anybody the worse for it. A simple glance over a busy room. Fleeting eyes across the open plaza. A thousand stories revealed to the anonymous bystander. Never been one for snooping on others. No intention of being the uninvited observer in the scene. Until I find myself all alone. Restless in the night. Unable to be entertained with the typical book and glass of Merlot. Pacing across the apartment, I catch the glimpse of light in the open view.  Familiar movement in the distance catches my eye. Something intriguing that can not escape my vision in the building across the way. Quickly I look around for my glasses when it becomes clear, the telescope. Jion sent it over as a housewarming gift three months ago. Devilish Jion, with his gift. The inscription, “Don’t worry about who’s watching you, as long as you’re watching back.” He knew I’d never use it. Or did he know curiosity would get the best of me eventually?

Curiously I grasp my new gift for the first time. Fingers gently find a home along the metal shaft. My eye dilates as it attempts to focus sight through the lens. Night opens up before my view. The buildings that surround are half alive with light and reflections. With a slight push I spin the arm. Winding down the building floor by floor until I can find my target. Along the way there are empty rooms and hallways filled with strangers exiting elevators, watching TVs, and making dinners. Once again discovering the movement, I stop. The golden hue illuminates the room in the building before me. Center of my attention is blurry but familiar. Carefully I lift my hand and move the dial. Click. Click. Aha.

Legs part as she reclines backwards. Open mouth, as her fingers run along his skin, savoring every movement below. Lifting himself upward and pauses before pursuing further. Waiting she trembles, never looking away. Hands rest upon bare breasts then trail down the front of her body as he kneels against the chaise. One leg remains on the ground as he rests slightly above her. She leans back on elbows against the lounge. Down he leans in and kisses her neck. Hands remain downward between her thighs. Every movement sends her head back with an open mouth. Pleasure. Descent continues. Further. His hips drop against hers rocking inward. Pelvis tilting upward. Legs lifting and falling in a hypnotic rhythm before circling around torso. Sweat dripping down. Faces alive with bliss. Open for view. Open for me. Open to me. Returning my view.

Turn away I think. Despite my blushing face I can’t look away. Smiling. Caught while I’m catching the act. Adjust the front of my coat to reveal my bare skin to him. His eyes continue to lock onto my position. All the while pursuing his fulfillment. I should stop now. But the show is far from over. My mind still wandering as I watch my hands began playing with my bare skin. Wet places explored as hot breath escapes my warm mouth.

The progression continues. She lifts his neck and makes tiny bites below the chin. Tongue crawls along the neck leaving a wet imprint. Hands lift and fall with frenzied intent. Gripping outer thighs. Tugging at waistline. Eyes are open and locked with intent. Wet lips meeting to consume before falling downward to devour at flesh. Heads rocking with sheer involvement of their arrangement. Arms pull and push as they grasp for more. Faster. Deeper. My thrusting fingers compete with the movements that climb toward a purpose. Quietly the act of passion declines. A final embrace quakes in unison. Smoothly he lifts himself upward. Standing over her open legs he smiles with sheer satisfaction. Her hands reach up and caress his torso while he turns and edges towards the window. Sliding onto her side she connects with my stare now. Fingers circling her bare breasts while she calmly watches him watching me. Boldly revealing himself, he leans in and nudges at the glass with a hand that entices. Inviting. So inviting.

Between Her Legs

Some men like to spend their evening working hard on a piece while other men seem to love to spend their evenings getting hard with a little peace between some girls legs. There's nothing wrong that but don't count on love if that's all you like to spend your time doing. Which one are you? Here's a story that a lot of people love while others seem to think I went a little too far when I wrote it. Perhaps a bit of peace between my character's legs would have been better to their liking? 

Enjoy! 
Kisses, m. 

Peace between legs c/o Tyler Shields

Between my legs

(12-9-09)

Between my legs. Lies a hope for the future. Safety. Love. My insecurity? The reason he strayed is between her legs. The reason I stay is between mine. Infidelities he shouldn't have. We're both crying. Both aching. Knowing it’s too damn hard to watch him leave each time. Welcoming him back into my arms despite these flaws. Into the warmth, the depths where he’d linger too long. Falling and fading quickly, taking me down with him. Consumed by desire. A dark desire that is delicately hidden but ever so welcoming. Watching him savor the taste like drinking a hearty pinot noir as the flavor deepens into a meaningful experience. An exceptional wine, meant to be slowly enjoyed down to every drop.

Disappointment. My weakness. Inadequacies as a female. The one thing that sells you short as a woman is there between your legs. Never being taken seriously. As a woman it will keep you weak if you choose. Deprive you of love if you let it. Or allow the true nature within to become empowered by it. Controlled. Demanding. Eve in the Garden of Eden with that convincing apple. Damned is the man that believes he is manipulating a woman. A woman is a cool calculating creature never to be trusted or taken lightly despite what lies between her legs.

Waiting for him to return one more time. Deep down knowing that the game never changes, yet I’ve been foolish enough to continue this way. Sitting carefully, naked in the cold dark kitchen at the small table I trace my fingers carefully along the Formica surface. My bare skin is alive with the anticipation of his return. Element of surprise. It is my very intention to seduce and distract. The pressure of cool metal steel is nestled against the inside of my thigh as I wait. Looking down I can see the invention of death between my legs. Just as I continue to think he hasn’t returned soon enough the front door moves. Quickly my hand reaches in pushing aside the revolver where his eyes can not see. Nothing but my smile and open invitation.

Carefully the dark room masks his face as he moves closer to me. Only his eyes are visible as he makes his way forward. From the looks of it, he’s quite pleased to find me unclothed and honest. Standing over me his hands reach down into my hair and along my neck. An extraordinarily hard kiss as he makes an effort to lean in. The roughness of the moment is intoxicating as his grabbing hands continue to trail along my bare skin. Hands around my hips and in the small of my back as lips move downward, tracing their way from neck to breasts, then further. My ambitious efforts have me fumbling through his clothing, unclasping and removing, as he advances. As he reaches my navel I continue to reassure him by gently stroking his hair; beautiful hair, dark, thick and lush. Head movements find a balance as he nears my thighs. Tug at the back of his head to make eye contact. Lifting eyes meet mine in a piercing stare. Shh! He calms me with a smile before reaching between my legs.

Slowly I part my legs further and give way. Sliding the gun out from its hidden place, ever so silently, with a scoot of my thigh. Removing the cold steel instrument of death as he bends forward to kiss the inside of my thigh. Lips continue to softly caress my inner thigh as his hands come around to circle my hips and pull forward. Silently I find a place beneath his temple. Bare. Visible to my aim. Rocking my hips forward to meet his increasing movements, with my target in sight, I squeeze the trigger tenderly releasing death. Between my legs.

Revisiting The D Chronicles - (Men): Dirty D's

Josh Hutcherson c/o Dirty Side of Glamour - tylershields.com

A friend of mine, The Writer, texts me late last night to tell me how wonderfully sinful one of my stories, DICK, was after reading it for the first time. I smile and text him: Oh! That incredibly delightful dirty fellow is from my series The D Men! You can buy it on Amazon or find it on the blog. 
After my exchange with The Writer I realized how incredibly inaccessible my writing is to find on the blog... And how much Amazon should have promotions. I'll look into it! Until then... This is for my friend, The Writer and anyone else who loves a bit of dirty down in their soul. Enjoy a piece from the series and follow the links to more selections from The D-Men. For anyone who wants to have all these Dirty D's in one place... you can get them here. Also available in episodes. 

kisses, m.

Double

(march 22, 2011)

If there’s anything Montgomery Grant liked it was something that came in twos. And double of everything is what Montgomery strove to get. Although he it kept to himself he had a distinct predilection for such things and had developed his own personal philosophy: Three is a party while two is fun which is damn near impossible when you only have one.

Montgomery Grant was never one to miss his opportunity for doubling his pleasure or his fun. And this morning when he awoke was no exception.

It wasn’t quite noon when Montgomery Grant awoke. It wasn’t even close to midmorning when the sheets pulled back over his head and he came to realize that he wasn’t alone. Sweetly tucked between his lips rested the softest most tender part of flesh attached to a blonde woman who lay face first upon him as her waist rested on his abdomen. Both her arms lay outstretched above her head bound tightly to his. Below he could feel his legs unable to move. The restraints allowed for little give but it was an uncomfortable pain that he didn’t mind. Although he couldn’t see her face he could hear her breathing sounds. It wasn’t talking but the sound of her breathing had a unique throaty quality that distinctly reminded him of words. Reacting to his carnal instincts Montgomery began to run his tongue along the edge of his lips allowing it to graze this newfound flesh. For every soft lick the blonde released a louder vocal breathe between her sounds.

Which brought Montgomery to the next realization, there were two of them but they were not alone. Somewhere in the corner of his eye Montgomery could make out another head of blonde followed by a pair of wandering blue eyes that completed her face. The other eyes were attached to the movements below the waistline of the resting blonde. She was encouraging the first blonde with her touch. Between the warmth of his tongue and the run of her fingers the bound blonde let out deeper faster sounds that couldn’t be deciphered other than pure pleasure.

He couldn’t see what she was doing but he could feel that the unseen woman was now giving him a hand in the most generous way. Lost to the moment he continued to let her help him along. Working her hands in the most delightful ways letting him grow with anticipation before positioning her body to fully delight in his lower attributes. Although he couldn’t see the movements of the second woman, the feeling she was giving made Montgomery appreciate his newfound situation.

Sometime before mid-afternoon they had finished their business with each other and the pair of blondes lay at rest upon Montgomery’s bare torso. Short red nails met the corner of his eyes as he turned his head to catch his breathe. Exhausted, he could feel his own hair sticky with sweat and his tired arms still tightly bound to one woman whose resting breath reminded him of a kitten purring. More revealed the other woman remained firmly rested upon him as her tired body lay against his bound companion. Pieces of her blonde her hair tickled his face as it fell over the woman’s shoulder while her resting hands cupped the soft fleshy breasts that had earlier filled his mouth.

Montgomery began to wonder what had happened. Before awaking he hadn’t the slightest idea how he had come to this strange yet satisfying position. It had been Sunday when he went out although it wasn’t a blonde he caught. At least that’s what he had thought when he tried to remember. Distinctly in his memory there were two red-heads that made up his mind but he had to be wrong.

While his mind continued to wander the shift of red nails went unnoticed as they untied. Awake and moving the pair began to work again. Carefully the weight of his newly free bound companion shifts to reveal her face as she finds a new home between his legs. A look of sheer pleasure comes over her face as she finds him curiously willing. With a turn of a head she smiles and nods to the other blonde who then carefully maneuvers herself between Montgomery and her friend before starting in.

Nightfall is when Montgomery awoke to find he is alone in the middle of the room. Sore and unrestrained he questions whether he had dreamt it all when a knock at the door jars him to the present.

As he opens the door Montgomery Grant comes to a moment where two meant so much more than he could have ever dreamt. For outside the door stood double red hair with a familiar face greeting him with a smile that said it all.

• Don't
• Discipline
• Deviate
• Dick
• Doll 
• Drag
• Damn
• Dead - The Dead 

You can't understand...

How I Could Just Kill a Man.


Ah, could you kill someone? Or feel angry enough to kill them. Well, here's a little advice: don't kill them but definitely get angry enough to be rid of them in your life. Tears, like the killing, are optional. Here's a little music that has been my song of the day and an old favorite piece of writing. It was included in my eBook "Killing Changes You" which you can buy here. 

Enjoy!

kisses, m.
  
 How I Could Just Kill a Man - Charlotte Sometimes
 



Between my legs

(12-9-09)

Between my legs. Lies a hope for the future. Safety. Love. My insecurity? The reason he strayed is between her legs. The reason I stay is between mine. Infidelities he shouldn't have. We're both crying. Both aching. Knowing it’s too damn hard to watch him leave each time. Welcoming him back into my arms despite these flaws. Into the warmth, the depths where he’d linger too long. Falling and fading quickly, taking me down with him. Consumed by desire. A dark desire that is delicately hidden but ever so welcoming. Watching him savor the taste like drinking a hearty pinot noir as the flavor deepens into a meaningful experience. An exceptional wine, meant to be slowly enjoyed down to every drop.

Disappointment. My weakness. Inadequacies as a female. The one thing that sells you short as a woman is there between your legs. Never being taken seriously. As a woman it will keep you weak if you choose. Deprive you of love if you let it. Or allow the true nature within to become empowered by it. Controlled. Demanding. Eve in the Garden of Eden with that convincing apple. Damned is the man that believes he is manipulating a woman. A woman is a cool calculating creature never to be trusted or taken lightly despite what lies between her legs.

Waiting for him to return one more time. Deep down knowing that the game never changes, yet I’ve been foolish enough to continue this way. Sitting carefully, naked in the cold dark kitchen at the small table I trace my fingers carefully along the Formica surface. My bare skin is alive with the anticipation of his return. Element of surprise. It is my very intention to seduce and distract. The pressure of cool metal steel is nestled against the inside of my thigh as I wait. Looking down I can see the invention of death between my legs. Just as I continue to think he hasn’t returned soon enough the front door moves. Quickly my hand reaches in pushing aside the revolver where his eyes can not see. Nothing but my smile and open invitation.

Carefully the dark room masks his face as he moves closer to me. Only his eyes are visible as he makes his way forward. From the looks of it, he’s quite pleased to find me unclothed and honest. Standing over me his hands reach down into my hair and along my neck. An extraordinarily hard kiss as he makes an effort to lean in. The roughness of the moment is intoxicating as his grabbing hands continue to trail along my bare skin. Hands around my hips and in the small of my back as lips move downward, tracing their way from neck to breasts, then further. My ambitious efforts have me fumbling through his clothing, unclasping and removing, as he advances. As he reaches my navel I continue to reassure him by gently stroking his hair; beautiful hair, dark, thick and lush. Head movements find a balance as he nears my thighs. Tug at the back of his head to make eye contact. Lifting eyes meet mine in a piercing stare. Shh! He calms me with a smile before reaching between my legs.

Slowly I part my legs further and give way. Sliding the gun out from its hidden place, ever so silently, with a scoot of my thigh. Removing the cold steel instrument of death as he bends forward to kiss the inside of my thigh. Lips continue to softly caress my inner thigh as his hands come around to circle my hips and pull forward. Silently I find a place beneath his temple. Bare. Visible to my aim. Rocking my hips forward to meet his increasing movements, with my target in sight, I squeeze the trigger tenderly releasing death. Between my legs.