<< May 2009 Bored Bitching Thursday, April 30th, 2009 - 11:45 am
Bored, horny, apathetic. Bad combination. Would kind of like to do a sexy self-portrait photo shoot, but the prep work is putting me off, as well as the fact that there isn's a single damn spot in this place where I could set up a decent shot - and I'm not quite ready to go parading the streets in lingerie to take a pic...
Though, having said that, I may try and set something up later this summer, when things are quiet, and do some outdoor photos... hrmm... something to plan, anyway.
x
~E~
Which side of the bed? Thursday, April 30th, 2009 - 7:54 am
You know that saying 'Waking up on the wrong side of the bed', when someone is in a bad mood for no reason at all?
Is there a flip side to that, do you think? Waking up on the right side of the bed? Whatever it is - that's where I've woken up today. As soon as I entered the land of the living my mind was racing with filthy, dirty thoughts. I did what one would generally do, when waking up horny and alone, but it didn't quite hit the required spot and now - no big surprise at all for those who know me - I can't get sex out of my head.
For some people this might be a problem, for me it's inspiration, so I ought to be grateful, but somethings a little different from usual. Today I want to *experience* a really filthy encounter, rather than write about it...
Ho hum - another day dawns and an erotics writer is never satisfied
x
~E~
Let The Sun Shine Wednesday, April 29th, 2009 - 8:41 am
Oh thank goodness. It was sunny all last week and then we had two dreary days of grey drizzle and downright downpour. I couldn't face another day of rain so imagine how happy I was to wake up and see the glorious sun shining in through my curtains.
I'm going to have breakfast, do a bit of exercise, have a shower, then go sit in the sun and luxuriate with my most favourite book ever while I get rid of a bit of this winter pallor.
Wonder if I can blag a ride in my mate's sports car again... I could really fancy being his token blonde dolly bird today - great fun!
x
~E~
Self-love Monday, April 27th, 2009 - 1:19 pm
OK, is it just me or are self-administered orgasms just the best thing sometimes? Look at all the roles they can fulfil:
-Headache cure
-Insomnia Cure
-Boredom relief
-Pre-sex warm-up
-Seduction technique
-Health and wellbeing enhancement (orgasms are good for you, obviously)
-A mood lifter & quick pick-me-up
-Blusher (nothing prettier or more natural than a climax-induced flush!)
-Distraction
-Just because...
Wow. A friend of mine took me for a drive in his new sports car today. A sexy, low-slung Lotus in dark, shimmery graphite. Oh my God, but I loved it! I've never really been that *into* cars. Call me a girl or whatever, but it always seemed a bit of a waste of money. I loved the look and idea of fast cars, but spending that kind of money on a car?
I'm a convert. If I had anything *like* that amount of cash I'd so buy myself a shiny shiny car. We went from 20-70 mph in about a second coming off the slip road and I loved the roar of it, the way I was thrown back into the seat, the way my knees were higher than my hips (easy access anyone?) the sexy leather smell of it and the way every little bump and grind on the road was transmitted straight up through the tight suspension and into me as I sat there.
Fuck was it sexy. I wanted him to go faster, drive harder, swerving round bends and corners, overtaking every other fucker on the road, music pounding out a bass beat as we went.
Know what really got to me though? What made me want one as much as the speed and power of it? The way everyone stared. It was like walking along a street in a tight, seriously low-cut dress and fuck-me heels. Women mostly rolled their eyes and looked away, except for one or two who, like the majority of men, openly stared, slavering at the bit with a slightly guilty look on the odd face as they thought of their wife, sorry, trusty Renault Megan ;-)
I've always loved attention like that - how delicious to receive it when driving as well as when wiggling down the street...
What to say when there's nothing to say Friday, April 24th, 2009 - 9:38 am
Seems like there's only so many topics that can be covered in a blog, especially one about erotic writing, even more especially when the author (ie - moi) needs to keep some aspects of her personal life private for various reasons.
All day I think about writing, about stories. Sometimes my characters seem as real to me as the people I meet in the street and I'm constantly noticing, analysing, fabricating descriptions and sentences - it's constant and exhaustive - exhausting too, sometimes. I can't switch it off. Then I sit down at my laptop and everything is written. I spend all day alone, my only communication with people on the internet - written. I work on my stories, sometimes creating as many as three or four thousand words in a day - written. I write e-mails, promotions, posts on a forum, blog entries - written, written, written - everything is words. I even dream of word processors and typing sometimes, black type racing across my mind whilst I sleep. Forgotten fragments of stories and thoughts that linger in my subconscious and pop up to torment me when I rest.
So what else can I write about but writing itself, or the topics that crop up in my writing? Forgive me for this slightly rambling entry, but honestly, words are a tool and a torment, a treasure and a tease -- they allow you to express yourself with such fine gradients of subtle meaning, but they can slip away, escape you, be misinterpreted, misread, mis-spoken... A cruel mistress, but part of me.
Ask Emelia Wednesday, April 22nd, 2009 - 7:22 pm
I have now ventured into a new line of work - offering advice to the love-lorn and sex-hungry. It's not exactly sympathetic, but it'll usually be logical, practical and couched in straightforward terms.
So if you have anything you want to ask me about, be it sex, love, writing, anything - even food - give me a yell. Alternatively, just drop by the 'Ask Emelia' page and see the advice I'm giving to others - you'll get a giggle and maybe something more helpful!
Laters!
x
~E~
Woo Hoo Wednesday, April 8th, 2009 - 6:12 pm
Yay me -- working hard earlier has paid off and I've got the evening to myself. Hurrah! Writing time.
Time for a poem.
Ironing is dreary
Shopping makes me weary
By the evening I feel bleary
But not today.
Washing up is dull
My working day is full
I'm waiting for the lull
Of the evening.
I'll just clean the flat, first
Get rid of the junk and tat first
Make sure I've swept the mat first
Working in a mess is just the flat worst.
I'm aware this poem's crappy
But rhyming makes me happy
I'm not in the mood for sappy
So crappy's the best I've got.
I got pissed on by a tiger Wednesday, April 8th, 2009 - 9:07 am
Seriously. Went to a Safari Park yesterday and a Tiger got a bit cross at us being around and sprayed the car I was in, only missing me by inches as I hung out of the window to take photos of him.
I also saw a tortoise ram shells at another tortoise until it got jammed between two rocks, then he leapt on and mounted it.
A male lion chased down and caught a lioness, his teeth holding firmly onto her scruff as he got his jollies.
What can I say? Spring is in the air and everyone's feeling it.
Promises - A Story Friday, April 3rd, 2009 - 6:21 pm
A few weeks ago I challenged myself to write a non-erotic story, and one that was less than 2000 words. Since then I have been wondering what to do with it and I decided, today, to post it on this blog. As I said, it's not erotic, it's short and it's bittersweet, so if you want something fluffy, don't read it. I wanted to share it though and I hope you like it. Please leave me comments or bookmark my website, I'd like to do this again if it proves popular.
x
~E~
--------------------------------
Promises
--------------------------------
Pulling back, breathless and flushed, from the kiss, Laura couldn't quite believe what had just happened.
“What's the matter?” Paul's voice was concerned, but tinged with a sardonic amusement.
“I can't do this – I can't believe you want to... it's just, I don't know – this is just the last thing I expected.”
“I don't know why, I thought we'd connected. I thought you wanted this. I wouldn't have kissed you if you hadn't wanted me to.”
Blushing with silly pleasure she turned away, smiling. “I did want you to, Paul, I did, but we shouldn't. There are so many reasons and it's not fair on you...”
“Stop it. If you want to kiss me then there isn't a problem, because I want to kiss you, too.”
Looking into his eyes, earnest and clear with intent, she couldn't believe this boy actually wanted to kiss her, her, when he must have dozens of girls falling over themselves to be with him. She traced the soft roundness of his cheek, savouring the slight rasp of his stubble and the dip of his dimple, then she closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift away as his mouth touched hers...
“Mum, hello? Mum!”
Laura opened her eyes with a start, a coffee cup dropping with a splash back into the tepid soap-scummed water. “I've been calling for ages, didn't you hear me? What's the matter?”
“Sorry love, I was just... day-dreaming, that's all. I was in another world entirely. What did you want me for?”
“Well it's nearly lunchtime and Dad's saying he's hungry.”
“Is he? Oh, OK, right, I'd better get on with things then. I don't suppose you'd mind finishing the washing-up for me, would you Kay?”
“No, I don't mind.” Kay looked at her mother curiously, her eyes narrowed as she considered something. “Are you sure you're alright? I mean, you really haven't been yourself the last couple of weeks.”
“Really darling, I'm absolutely fine. Nothing a bit of activity won't cure, I'm sure.”
Taking off the rubber gloves and hurrying over to the 'fridge, Laura took a deep breath and hoped the frigid air would cool her cheeks. The last thing she needed was for her daughter to guess her thoughts, it would upset her so much if she knew what Laura was thinking about. No, she'd have to be more careful, make sure she maintained the got-it-all-under-control Mum act and keep her day-dreaming to moments when she could be certain of her solitude.
* * * *
Hot sun beat down on their bodies through the open window, the breeze merely stirring the warm air instead of providing any relief from the heat. Laura felt languid, her face soft and happy as her usual cares and concerns disappeared into the haze of everyday life – something completely separate from this dreamlike existence. The smell of Paul's hair as she held him was clean and sweet, like grass that had been cut and left to dry in the sun, and she inhaled it in great, greedy gusts, trying to get her fill of him, making sure she had something to remember when she went back to her real world.
“I wish we could stay like this, in this moment, forever.” Her voice was soft as she murmured into his hair, but she wanted him to hear her. Wanted him to give her the answers that would release her, one way or another.
“Why can't we? I love you. I want to spend my life with you.”
Tears stung her eyes as she bent forwards to look at him. “I love you too.”
The words seemed too simple and meaningless to convey how she really felt, especially after hearing him say them first. It seemed inconceivable that he could love her, but she needed to believe that he did, because she loved him so much.
“Then let's do it. Let's run away together, spend our lives together. I love you, I promise I'll look after you.”
“I want to, I really do, but it's not as simple as that, you know it isn't.”
“It could be if you wanted it to.” Paul had sat up to look at her, his body pulling away from hers and leaving her skin cold and clammy where he had been pressed to her.
“What would everybody say?”
“Who cares what they'd say? We'd be long gone and far away, living our lives. Just leave him, he doesn't love you like I do. He just wants someone who'll look after him, a housewife, something to possess. I'd cherish you and look after you. I promise.”
“He made me promise not to leave.”
“Did you? Did you promise him that?” A sly smile slid over Laura's face. “I had my fingers crossed.”
They grinned at each other, their faces alight with love and trust.
“Then you'll leave him? You'll come and be with me?”
“I will.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Are you crossing your fingers?” She giggled and wriggled into his arms as he took her hands and held them up to his lips. “Promise again.”
“I promise.” And she stopped giggling and watched him kiss her fingers, one by one, as if she were something very precious, something to be cherished. “I promise.”
* * * *
The days seemed to be passing very slowly and very fast all at the same time. Every time she turned around the hands of the clock seemed to have raced 'round the face again and yet each minute trickled by like treacle. This week was an agony of waiting and yet there was a strange pleasure in it. She savoured each moment, dragging out little chores into lengthy processes that gave her time to think while her body undertook the mindless physical work.
Her thoughts were thick with memories, moments distilled like aromatic oils until they were just the essence – a resounding emotion or a few fractured words. One day the man next door took it into his head to cut the grass on the front lawn and the smell of it, baking in the sun, set off a tidal wave of memories that left her aimless and distracted for the rest of the day.
It was obvious that Kay suspected something now. She and Laura knew each other too well for there to be such big secrets kept for any amount of time. Thankfully she seemed to think discretion was the way to go, leaving her mother to her secrets, drawing back from her a little to allow her the space. Whilst Laura desperately wanted to spare her daughter the pain she knew was coming, there was very little that she could do and hiding things wasn't going to make it any easier.
Whenever she got the opportunity she would pull Kay close to her in a hug and hold her, smelling her smell, taking comfort in her familiarity, waiting for everything to change.
* * * *
“I've told him.”
“Really?”
“Yup. I told him I was leaving. That I'd met someone else and we were in love and I was leaving him.”
“How did he take it?”
“Do you really want to hear about him?”
“Not unless you need to tell me.”
“I don't need to tell you. It's over now. I'm free. We can spend the rest of our lives together.”
“And you'll never leave me?”
“I'll never leave you.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” Giggling as he checked her fingers, she let him draw her close for a kiss. She was so happy. This moment, this memory, she would treasure it forever. To be loved by someone she loved so much seemed an impossible sort of happiness and she mentally traced every contour of the feeling, seeking to preserve it for always.
* * * *
“Mum! Don't go!”
There was a panicked urgency in Kay's voice which broke through all of Laura's carefully maintained insensibility.
“Why? What is it?”
“It's Dad, something's wrong, he's getting worse. Please, come back and just wait.”
“OK. Alright darling, I won't go. Why don't you put the kettle on and I'll go and see to him, OK?”
Kay nodded, her eyes swimming with tears. “Do you want some time alone with him?”
“Just a few moments, if that's OK. Wait a few moments. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mum.”
Hurrying into the sitting room at the back of the house Laura quaked at the thought that Kay might be right. She had no idea what to do or say – nothing could prepare you for something like this.
“Are you OK?” OK seemed like such a stupid word to use, but there were a lot of words that seemed stupid in this sort of situation. 'Comfortable' was another one, 'dignified' – words that just didn't apply, but were the best you could find.
He beckoned her closer, indicating the side of the bed next to him.
“Can I have some water?” Laura reached for the glass and carefully tilted it against his lips.
“Is that better?”
“Yes, thank you. I'm glad you didn't go to the shops, I wanted to ask you something. How are you?”
A laugh broke unexpectedly from Laura's mouth. “How am I?”
“Yes. Kay said that you've been distracted, away with the fairies. What's the matter?”
Looking at him thoughtfully, Laura wondered how best to respond. At such a moment, only honesty seemed good enough.
“You never made me any promises.” His face, taut with pain, seemed to crumple a little as she said it. “I promised you I'd never leave, but you didn't promise me it back and I just keep thinking about it, and thinking about it, and wishing that I'd made you promise – then maybe you wouldn't be leaving me now. I love you so much Paul, I don't want you to go.”
“I don't want to go, either, but I think we both know I'm not going to be around much longer. If I had made you that promise then I'd only be breaking it. I did make you one promise, I promised to look after you.
"I wish that I could have done a better job of that over the years. I wish that I had taken your advice and looked after myself better, then perhaps I might have had a chance of surviving this, but I've done my best to look after you and Kay, and you won't go without once I've left, alright my darling?”
“No. I don't want money, I want you.” Laura felt her daughter's hand on her shoulder and took it in her own as she leaned forwards to kiss her husband. “You can't leave us, we love you.”
“I love you too, both of you. You have no idea how much I don't want to go.”
“I'll always love you, always remember you.”
He took her free hand in his own, felt for her fingers and interlocked his own through them. “Promise?”
She couldn't help herself – this old, familiar gesture to check that she wasn't crossing her fingers made her laugh and she spoke through laughter and tears together as she watched him go.
“I promise.”
Aww Crap Wednesday, April 1st, 2009 - 7:10 pm
Why? Why, as soon as you enter your parents' house, do you instantly feel like a teenager again? My dad tries to read my computer screen over my shoulder (erm - *excuse* me?) my mum flusters around and acts like I can't look after myself and my sister makes me feel oh so uncool.
