Halloween in the Castro!

Happy Halloween!  I've always loved this holiday because it combines two of my favorite activities--dressing up and pretending to be someone else for a short time, and, of course, eating lots of sweets.  This Halloween is extra special because my story, "Halloween in the Castro," is live at the wonderful erotica website, Oysters and Chocolate (perfect snacking for Halloween, eh?)

Back in 1985, I actually attended the neighborhood part in the Castro with some friends, and the memories are so vivid, this story was actually quite easy to write.  It was my first year in the Bay Area, and I can think of no better introduction to the playful, irreverent spirit of this wonderful place.  The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence were particularly inspiring!  As the years went by, the party became so rowdy, the police put a stop to it, so this is a nostalgic look back in more ways than one.  I also take a teasing jab at the fact Halloween costumes for women, at least the ones you see in the stores, can pretty much be divided into some kind of witch or some kind of slut (sexy pirate, sexy French maid, sexy hippie, sexy sexy woman, etc.).  But on occasion, that's not such a bad thing, is it?  Read my story and you'll see what I mean.  Oh, I'd appreciate your vote, just click on those stars at the end of the story!

Nice Girls, Naughty Sex

No, that's not my new personal motto (although it could be), it's the title of a fantastic new anthology that has just been released, Nice Girls, Naughty Sex: 20 Erotic Tales, edited by erotica mavens Jordan LaRousse and Samantha Sade of the delicious website Oysters & Chocolate.

The list of authors is truly stellar and I cannot wait to get my contributor's copy to dig into the feast of scrumptious stories. My story, "Honeymoon Suite," is on a theme very dear to my imagination, the power of erotic photography. In a different life, this would definitely be my job and my passion!

Here's an small taste of this tale, which includes many flavors of sensual love.

From "Honeymoon Suite":

I was still packing up my equipment, when the groom slipped out of the bedroom. He positioned himself strategically between me and the main entrance to the suite and gave me a sheepish grin.

I was pretty sure what was coming next.

"Hey, Melody, uh, Kristina and I wanted to thank you again for the session. It was amazing."

I smiled back, secretly admiring his smooth, muscular chest peeping through the hotel's fluffy white robe. Such a perfect torso for photographs. "It was my pleasure, Jake. Give me a call when you two get back from Italy, and we'll set up an appointment for the next step."

Jake ran his hand through his tousled hair. "About that next step. Listen, I've never seen Kristina so seriously turned on. I heard you had a magic touch with the ladies, but that was incredible."

I definitely knew what was coming next.

"so Kristina was wondering--and I was, too--if you'd be interested in hanging out with us for a little while longer. You could help us finish that bottle of champagne."

I glanced over at the half-open door to the bedroom. The bride was watching us from the bed, the sheet clutched over her naked breasts, which, under the circumstances, struck me as unnecessary modesty.

"I never drink on the job," I replied.

"We don't have to drink," Jake said. "And actually we were thinking this would be pleasure. For all of us this time."

I tilted my head as if I didn't quite get what he was proposing.

I should have known a savvy young attorney like Jake wouldn't buy it. "Come on, I saw that look in your eyes when you pointed your big, long camera lens at my naked wife." His own eyes took on a predatory gleam.

Fortunately, I had my canned speech ready. "Well, Jake, it is true that I appreciate female beauty, but my interest is purely artistic. My only desire is to create a momento of the pleasure two lovers share. Nothing more."

He raised his eyebrows. "If your limit is two, I'm fine it's just you and Kristina--although I hope you'll let me watch."

I laughed. I really didn't hold it against my clients when they propositioned me. Planning a wedding involves months, even years of stress. The big day itself is exhausting. Follow that with kissing, fondling and making love to your brand-new spouse in front of a stranger with a camera for a few hours, and the boundaries were sure to blur.

"It's very tempting," I lied, "but I'm afraid I have to decline the invitation. When I started this business, my partner made me promise her that I'd keep things professional. but I promise you I'm going to make the two of you some beautiful images to commemorate your wedding night."

Jake admitted defeat with a shrug. "Well, we wouldn't want to get you in trouble with your old lady. But hey, it was fun while it lasted."

I nodded, holding back a smile. Little did he know that for me, the fun was just beginning....

A "Rare" Story at Oysters and Chocolate

(Photo by Igor Amelkovich)

Ah, the Friday of a hectic week, what better way to relax than to lie back with some oysters and chocolate and a steamy erotic tale of a group spanking? After all, the more, the merrier when it comes to blushing bottoms!

I've posted an appetizer excerpt below. To enjoy the entire feast, check out "A Rare Find" and don't forget to vote and comment if you feel so inspired. Remember, if you don't, I might just have to give you a spanking....

From "A Rare Find":

I raised my outstretched palm high over Charlotte’s ass. Four pairs of eyes followed me, then paused, as I stopped in midair. I could feel the room grow hotter, fueled by the scorching glow between their legs—their cocks twitching, cunts clenching, buttocks tingling. My own body throbbed from the thrill of it. This was better than fucking someone. It was much better, because I could fuck everyone in the room with a simple flourish of my hand.

I lowered my arm to my side.

Soft groans of disappointment filled the room.

“I can’t do this,” I announced primly. “Charlotte doesn’t deserve to be punished. She’s a good girl.”

“How many good girls beg for a spanking?” Curt shot back.

“She’s not begging,” I replied. “She hasn’t said a word.”

Charlotte took her cue. “Please…please spank me.”

I paused, as if I were struggling with my conscience. “Why? Why do you deserve a spanking?”

“I’ve…been…bad,” Charlotte gasped.

“What have you done that’s bad?”

Charlotte wiggled her buttocks in frustration. She didn’t yet realize that the answers didn’t matter.

I clicked my tongue. “You don’t have to say it. I know what you did. You let Wendy pull your shorts up so they’re rubbing against your clit. It’s turning you on, isn’t it, Charlotte?”

She whimpered assent.

I pulled back my hand and gave her a satisfying smack right on her tender crack. An electric jolt shot through my palm straight to my pussy. Charlotte cried out and arched her back. She was ready for more. So was I.

“There’s something else that’s turning you on, isn’t there? You like bending over this stool and showing off your ass to men you barely know. Are you a naughty show-off, Charlotte?”

Beside me, Curt’s breath was coming harsh and fast. It was working: I was hitting him right where it hurt.

“You don’t need to answer,” I purred. “Actions speak louder than words. But before I spank you again, you have to do something really bad. You have to play with the pretty pink nipple that’s hanging out of your shirt. Show Joel and Lawrence how you like to be touched. Hey, even your husband might learn something. Will you do that for me?”

“Y…yes,” Charlotte stuttered. Her elbow lifted as she brought her hand to her breast. My own chest tightened in anticipation. Would she really do anything I asked?

Perverted Professors Dipped In Chocolate--Yum!

I'm really happy to announce that one of my favorite stories from my archives is now available online over at the delectable Oysters & Chocolate.

The title of the story is "Dear Professor Pervert" and it deals with many of my favorite themes--naughty academics, bukkake scenes, sexy writing assignments, office sex. There's a lot going on in this story and best of all, I've been elevated from my usual "vanilla" designation to the far more intriguing "licorice whips" category. The pervy Professor Perkins first started giving his X-rated assignments a few years ago in the pages of Yes, Sir, edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel and now he's ready to teach everyone his special sex writing tips.

Please stop by and vote if you feel so moved. And here's a sort of vanilla excerpt to whet (wet?) your interest. Trust me, this is only the beginning of the perversion! (And I actually did have a dream like this about a professor way back in the day....)

A flashback scene from "Dear Professor Pervert":

In fact, it was my dirty mind that lead us down a darker, more twisted trail. It all started innocently enough with a naughty dream.

I was lying on the floor of Professor Perkins’ office wearing an old-fashioned schoolgirl’s kilt and white blouse. The Professor himself was stretched out on top of me, but he didn’t really have a body. He was just a hot weight pressing me down, making my flesh feel all tingly and melted. I couldn’t see his face either, but I felt his hand stroking my cheek and his voice slipping into my ear. Your final paper was so good it made my cock hard for two weeks straight.

Which, of course, didn’t make any sense. I mean, how could a ten-page paper on “Ode on a Grecian Urn” give anyone a boner for one minute not to mention two weeks? However, the dream got me so turned on, I lay in bed playing with myself and thinking about Jonathan until I had a very wet, loud orgasm. Even after that I was still horny and missing him terribly. That’s how I got the idea to send him a provocative email.

In retrospect it was mild stuff. I told him about the dream and how I “pleasured myself” when I woke up. Then I said, tongue-in-cheek, that I was looking forward to August when I could feel his “pulsing manhood” in my “turgid sex.”

After I sent it, I was a little worried he’d laugh or be offended, but instead he called and said in that low, syrupy voice guys get when they’re shy but turned on at the same time, that he enjoyed my email and was going to send a reply soon.

I couldn’t restrain a giggle of triumph. Last spring I never would have imagined I’d inspire Professor Perkins to send me an X-rated email.

But that wasn’t quite what I got. The subject line was simply “Comments on Your Essay.” In a formal, professor-ish tone, he told me my paper would be stronger if I gave more context for the self-pleasuring—what I was wearing, how long it took, and specific techniques I used to reach satisfaction. He suggested I draw my reader into the scene through the use of vivid detail and avoid clichés such as “pulsating manhood.” He concluded that my work showed promise, but there was much room for improvement.

My face burning with embarrassment and disbelief, I fired back a reply. “Dear Professor Pervert, I didn’t realize I was going to be graded on my effort. Maybe you should write out the assignment with a list of guidelines so I can do better next time?”

A few hours later, I found this in my in-box:

Assignment #1. Spend at least an hour pleasuring yourself without bringing yourself to orgasm. After one hour, you may enjoy a climax. You’ll be keeping a “Masturbation Journal” which will be graded on style and content. At the top of each entry record then time of day, length and location of session, what you are (or are not) wearing as the session unfolds. I’m looking for an accurate and thoughtful essay that explores not only physical sensations, but your thoughts, feelings and fantasies while you are masturbating. Fresh images and honesty are key elements of the exercise. The assignment is due within four hours. Late papers will be penalized. Sincerely, Professor Pervert.

“The nerve!” I sputtered at the computer, shaking with anger. For a minute, I was too worked up over his audacity to notice he’d gotten me worked up in other ways: my panties were soaking wet....

Pudding and Pie

I know, you're tired of holiday feasting, but I hope you saved just a little bit of room for some "Pudding and Pie" over at Oysters and Chocolate today. This is my debut story at this wonderful site that has regularly published some of my favorite erotica writers like Heidi Champa, Jeremy Edwards and Emerald. O&C has a system where y0u can rate/vote on the stories, so if you have a mind to help my ratings, don't forget to click on those stars :-)!

I had to go in for jury duty today, which was EXHAUSTING, but I got kicked off by the defense. Not sure if it's because of the Ph.D. or the fact I was a plaintiff in a civil suit myself and I'm pretty liberal with the concept of preponderance of evidence, but instead of doing my civic duty, I'll be writing dirty stories instead this week. I wonder which one is of more service to humankind?

Happy 2009 to you all!