Masturbation Monday No. 112

Usually, Nichy tried not to think about another lover while she was in bed with someone else. But she thought about Graham, and the things she had done with him that she had never done with someone else before. She wondered why she kept it so polarized, as if there were things that she could not do with anyone else. 

Paris had been seriously sexy for her and Tyler so far, and it remained so. His body was warm and hard against hers, and felt like summer. His finger played along her labia, and she closed her eyes. She liked his fingers in her, as much as she liked anything else. His finger probed her with the same familiarity as her own. 

He had watched her make herself come, his face so close to her that the inside of her thigh pressed against his cheek when she did. And he picked up her technique with ease. As he played with her, one thick finger, she wanted more…

Remembered more…

Graham had looked surgical with her once. She had been as aroused as she has ever been with him, and he asked her if she trusted him. Then, and now she trusted him sexually. It had not looked that sexy at first, but Graham had made applying lube feel like the main act. He applied his fingers slowly, and with a mirror to reflect what was happening it all looked like a magic act. In slow motion, she watched herself accept his fist. The sensation was as intense as he had promised it would be. Slow and labored he got inside her, and she came like she never imagined she could.

Tyler currently slipped another finger in her, and her thighs trembled from the pleasure of it and the memory of what she had done with Graham. Tyler must have sensed instinctively that he was in competition, because not with his fist but with his fingers he made her cry out. Nichy covered her face with her arm, but he moved it and kissed her while he finger fucked her until she was limp and ultra sensitive.

He pulled her to him after, and she could smell herself on his fingers. Nichy saw stars, and the light show the Eiffel Tower displayed in the distance behind the thin curtain was not nearly as bright…

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semi-fist via wikipedia

Sinful Sunday, Week 289 — Snag

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Wicked Wednesday #229 — Mermaid

When Eliza saw the greeting card on her desk with the gorgeous John William Waterhouse mermaid on it, she felt heat go through her body and her hands shook. The mermaid had been a painting in her hotel room in Paris. She closed her eyes, remembering Paris and Terrence.

Terrence had obviously sent her the card, because he knew it would send her reeling.

Immediately, she was transported to the hotel room in Paris with him. After they had had sex for real. She was still semi-draped with the sheets from the bed, like an indecent Venus de Milo–Terrence’s description of her–and she had sat next to the painting.

Of the Waterhouse mermaid.

Before she could properly reflect on what happened between them after he called her his mermaid, her assistant knocked on her door. Eliza realized her forearm had slipped between her thighs.

“Yes Casper?” she answered, removing her arm and crossing her legs.

Casper opened and closed her door delicately behind him.

“Liza, Terrence wants to see you. Do you want me to say you are busy?”

Eliza admired Casper in his retro formal attire, in conjunction with his retro mannerism.

“No, I cannot put him off forever. Let him in.”

Casper gave her a curt nod, and opened the door to let Terrence in.

Terrence had a stern expression on his face, as he closed the door behind him. He pressed his back to it and looked at her. They both avoided each other’s eyes.

“The card…” Eliza caressed the glossy image, and embossed writing with admiration and avoidance at once.

“It reminded me of you. I saw it in a novelty store and…did you read the inside?”

She looked up at him. It had not even occurred to her to open it, she was so fixated on the image of the mermaid. She picked up the card, thankful she had something to focus on and to avoid looking in his eyes a little longer.

The tiny sound of the thick paper was almost shrill, it was so silent between them. In tight script with a fountain pen, Terrence had written:

You’re my mermaid.

Eliza looked up at him, and he stared at her without reservation.

“You–” she started. “are drowning me…”

Terrence smiled a small smile as if he understood the true meaning of what she had said, when she did not even know what she meant…He studied her for a long moment, before he walked out and closed her door. The door closed like a splash, and she realized she was indeed drowning…

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waterhouse mermaid via wikipedia


Masturbation Monday No. 111

“Sonia told me that you are in her apartment with your boyfriend….”
Nichy pressed her smartphone to her mouth, kissing the glass.

Graham’s voice resonated over the phone with an innocence that she knew he was far from capable of. But she did like hearing from him, liked that he was jealous—because that was why he was he was calling.

It was also jarring that he was jealous because it made him unpredictable, and she was not sure what he would do. Graham was bizarre enough to be in Paris calling her from Sonia’s place, and she did not want Tyler to have to go through all of that, after she had started confessing in small parts to him what it had been like with Graham. Although there were parts of it that she never could tell him. Or Dorian. There were things between her and Graham that only she and Graham could know, and that was why she was so connected to him for better or worse.


“Does he know about me?”


“What does he know about me?”

“What can I tell anybody about you Graham?”

“Don’t get smart Nusch. None of your suitors have ever been enough to make you forget about me. None of them.”

When she heard the phone click. It was like he wanted to poison her with thoughts of their lovemaking to make this trip to Paris about him.

But it could not be.

As Tyler got more acquainted with the city, and started leading her around instead of vice versa…as he sat close beside her at cafes so that the heat of their bodies meshed as one…as he pulled her into alleys for kisses and sometimes more.

But it was his eyes, and the way that he looked at her that made her pulse all over. His eyes made her body heat, and between her legs pulse with desire. His lovemaking was incomparable, it was an intimacy that was different from anything else she had experienced because he knew her. She did not hide anything from him, she was becoming a bit of Scheherazade with him. Telling him small bits of her life, so he could really know her.

“I want you to know me, really know me…” she had said clinging to Tyler in bed, the night before.

“Your body tells me everything I need to know…all of your secrets…”

He traced her body with his finger, all her hot spots that he knew and touched around them like tiny auras. Her body arched under him as if he touched them directly, it was a kind of sex magic she had never imagined…

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img_0430paris via f dot leonora

Sinful Sunday, Week 288 — Grid

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Wicked Wednesday #228 — The Countdown Begins

Eliza shifted under the covers, and covered her face as if she wanted to drown in the sheets. She began a silent countdown in her head, as to how this situation would resolve itself. How they would acknowledge what had happened and move on. She could not leave her own hotel room, maybe if she stayed on the terrace, the new guy would do what he should do. Leave.


The new guy’s name was Terrence. Terrence she hoped, would leave and be gracious.

She got out of the bed, wrapped in the sheets like Venus de Milo, but gracelessly almost tripping on the train. She walked out onto the terrace, and looked at Paris. Her favorite city in the world, with the scent of fresh-baked bread rising and life on parade below her.

Eliza was startled by the warmth of flesh on the small of her back. She had not really covered her back, and now the new guy–Terrence–caressed her back.

Before she could turn around to protest, Terrence caressed her arms and she dropped the sheet. Naked before him, she was perfectly still as he kissed the nape of her neck and down her spine. It felt so good, even though she wished it did not. She did not stop him, as his hands trailed down her arms, pinning her wrists to her sides.

“Sweet butterfly…” he murmured, as he let her hands go.  

Eliza turned around to face him, and pressed her breasts to his chest. Terrence pulled her close to him, 

“I did not plan any of this Eliza, I did not plan for this to happen but I am happy it did. Something would have burst in me if I did not touch you…”

She pressed her cheek to his, and looked up at him.

“Of course you did not plan to seduce me, to seduce your boss…” she laughed.

Terrence looked in her eyes, and something in his eyes made her still. He caressed her cheek, and she closed her eyes. He kissed her, and lured her back to the bed. 

They made love on the semi-sheetless bed, in the sunlight and it was illuminating…

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venus de milo via wikipedia


Masturbation Monday No. 110

Nichy looked out onto the street through the leaf-shaped holes, that decorated the small shopping bag where she got her macarons from. She saw Tyler’s thigh through them, and then looked up over the bag at him. He stared at everything with the wonder that she did, when she was first in Paris and she squeezed his hand.“This is my favorite cafe here,” she smiled.

Tyler turned, and studied her with the same wonder she thought was reserved for Paris.

“You have been here before a lot of times. Because of Sonia?”
Nichy tensed, she had never told Tyler a lot about her prior life. And at this moment, caressing a chocolate on the corner of the dish her coffee was on, and remembering making love with him in front of Sonia…she felt like telling him things she never told him before.

“I was with my boyfriend at the time too.”

The serious one? The one you told me you did not want to talk about?”

Nichy nodded, as she opened the tiny chocolate.

“Yes, him,” she answered. She paused, knowing she did not want to tell him about what had recently been going on with Graham. 

But the past was safe.

“I had a threesome in Paris with him, his name was Graham…” Nichy felt her clitoris twitch, just from mentioning his name. “…and Sonia.”

“You had sex with Sonia?”

Nichy nodded.

“It was something that Graham wanted, and at the time we were together? I wanted everything that he wanted. I did so many things with him I had never done before or since.”

“Was the relationship between you too so serious emotionally or just sexually?”
Nichy looked at Tyler, and tilted her head to the side ironically.

“I never thought about it that way, you know? I just knew that sexually it was very intense, and he was someone that I really wanted to please.”

“I feel like that with you, I always want to please you. Even when I saw you were with Renee. I was actually a little jealous because I always really liked you, and I always wanted to be with you. That was why I really pushed for the threesome…”

“I never sensed that with you!”

Tyler looked away from her, and picked up his cup of coffee.

“I think that you thought I was a clown, and I cannot really blame you. I was a clown around you, but it was because I liked you so much and I did not know how else to act.”

“And now, I want to please you. I want you to be happy because I care about you…”

They kissed at the table to please each other, Nichy did not care about the clatter of coffee cups and water glasses, or the melted chocolate on her hand as she pressed it on Tyler’s thigh. She spread her fingers over the hardness of his thigh, and pressed her own to his without abandon.

She once watched a couple make love in an apartment building lobby nearby. They were so eager they could not wait, and left the door jarred…
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paris cafe photo by f dot leonora

Guest Blogger Adrea Kore Flashes Us Today!!!

Social media is often criticized, but it is through it that I met my guest and friend, Adrea Kore. Adrea is luminous, and the first person I have known to do a right on American accent! She is a brilliant, brilliant writer of all forms–and today she is going to flash us! I mean prep us all to enjoy the art of flash fiction. Get comfortable, and savor every word of hers…

I’m delighted to be here with F. Leonora, as her guest blogger. As a regular contributor to her Friday Flash monthly meme, I want to share some thoughts on the short-short story or “flash.” Sometimes also referred to as micro-fiction, flash fiction is the quickie of erotica.

I started writing seriously, and getting published, in the erotica genre in late 2012 – so I still feel like a relative newcomer. My very first story accepted for paid publication was actually flash fiction – on a femme-porn and erotica site called For the Girls. Then Go Deeper Press accepted Dangerous Curves for their flash fiction anthology, Dirty Little Numbers. dirtylittlenos_cover2Of the twenty or so paid story publications in anthologies and online since then, about a quarter of them have been for my flash fiction. A fan of both short stories and poetry from way back when I was in pigtails, it’s no surprise that I succumbed to the allure of “flashing” as soon as I discovered that such a thing existed.

Although length definitions differ for flash fiction, most publications seem to opt for 500 words as the maximum word-count. Some insist on even leaner stories, cinching in the word limit at 200 or even 100 words.

The practice of writing flash fiction, with the restraints of that svelte word-limit, can hone your powers of description and storytelling in wonderful ways. Each word has to work harder to convey meaning and emotion – which inevitably makes us better writers when we return to longer fiction. Whether on the page or in the boudoir, it seems I’m definitely into restraint.

The more flash fiction I read, the more incredible variations I see in style, expression and tone. A lot can happen in five hundred words. The form seems to deftly distill a writer’s style and voice, so that the reader may experience it more vividly.

Flash fiction is a tablet and mobile-friendly fiction, a way to showcase your style to your readers, which is also why I’d recommend giving flashing a go and getting some on your blog or website. It’s fiction for the nomadic, distracted population with truncated attention spans that we have supposedly become. That said, as a reader, I approach them more like poems, preferring focused time to contemplate them. Writer Vanessa Gebbie describes them as “a flash of narrative lit up, then extinguished,” but also stresses that a good flash is “never incomplete.”

I’ve observed that a compelling flash embodies elements of both poetry and film.

Like a film, it may show the reader crucial narrative “beats,” as quick cuts from one image to the next in order to tell its story. These could be close-ups or wide shots, but not lingering or panning shots – you simply don’t have the luxury of wordiness and leisurely pacing for too much of the latter. The reader sees these images via a few crafted words and sentences before moving onto the next element, but the information lingers in the retina, the memory, gathering detail, momentum and meaning. Like a film, it may also utilize dialogue as a narrative device to progress the plot with fewer words than descriptive narrative.

Like a poem, flash fiction may harness imagery, word play and metaphor to convey narrative, subtext, and atmosphere in compressed form. Additionally, the use of poetic language allows for multiple layers of meaning, using the same cluster of words. This approach allows you to say and suggest far more than you may initially think is possible within that leaner number of words. Like a poem, pared-back language is desirable; part of revising drafts may be to eliminate excess words such as “the,” “and” and “now.”

I’m comfortable writing flash in the zone of 400 – 500 words. It’s amazing how much scope five-hundred words allows to create a story arc and some steamy erotic detail. A 200-word limit for me is like trying to make a luscious cake with only flour and water. Given a 100-word limit, I may as well (and more happily) be writing poetry. I’ll leave those shorter versions for more hardcore flashers. Give different word limits a try, and see what works for you.

I once read somewhere that the Chinese term for flash fiction translates as “the cigarette-long” story – something you can mull over on a cigarette break, taking about as long to read as it does to finish your smoke. As a non-smoker, and a lover of coffee, perhaps I’d rename it the espresso-long story.

Here are my tips for crafting compelling flash fiction. Like any “tips” list, they are not prescriptive, but rather intended to provoke thought; whether they work for you may depend on your style.

Work your verbs hard

Lazy, vague verbs such as “went” tend to immediately require adverbs to prop them up. Why write “He went quickly towards her,” when you can write “He careened into her?” Why write that your character “said” anything, when instead they can leer, whisper, insinuate, proposition? A specific verb can convey so much about a character – how they walk, talk and kiss. Sweat the verbs, and you’ll need less adverbs, and less words generally.

Choose adjectives like they’re gourmet chocolates


They’re expensive, so you want to choose the perfect ones with just the right flavors for your story. To choose too many will weigh your story down and make it too fat to fit the flash format.

Build atmosphere with quick shots of imagery and word-play

This is one of my favorite ways to write flash fiction – take your central themes and refract your imagery through the story, like different facets on a cut diamond. They’ll all sparkle in a slightly different way, but make the whole more dazzling. My latest flash, Hurdy-Gurdy Love, takes the carnival theme as a metaphor for a relationship and riffs on that in several layers. 

Start near the middle of your story, not the beginning.

I borrowed this one from flash fiction maestro David Gaffney. You don’t have space for preamble. Crash land the reader closer to the middle of the story in terms of action. You can make nimble references to backstory when necessary. See here for how that can be achieved.

Use dialogue to convey character and give narrative momentum

Some writers excel at using dialogue in this way. You could try writing a flash that is ninety-percent dialogue, if you’ve ever fancied yourself the screenwriting type. Or you can see how I use fragments of dialogue here, in Celluloid Dreams  to convey character, backstory and theme.

Maximise the function of your Title

Your title is a bonus few extra words for free, so make them count. Like a well-made poem, a flash title (the title of any work of art, really) can be employed to reveal another element of your story, or create the lure of a double meaning. I love a flash that, once read, has me returning to the title to ponder, and find something new.

The sentence fragment is your friend

One, two, three-word sentences seem right at home in micro-fiction. Micro-sentences. They can work well scattered through “proper sentences.” To convey fragmented perspective. Suspense. Movement, fast or slow. Futility. Finality. See, I’m doing it here, and it’s so much fun.

Pay special attention to the last line

David Gaffney beat me to it, but this tip probably shows up on all flash fiction craft articles. After readers devour your flash fiction, give them a final line that will linger in their senses; an aftertaste, an aroma that doesn’t make this a read they can easily forget.

Gaffney is firmly against flash fiction that deploys a punch line or last-minute gag ending, saying that a “story that gives itself up in the last line is no story at all, and after reading a piece of good micro-fiction we should be struggling to understand it, and, in this way, will grow to love it as a beautiful enigma.”

I agree, although I may have been guilty of writing at least one punch-line flash along the way. Sometimes, they are just fun, especially when the topic is playfully sexual.

Create some Negative Space

Just as if it were an abstract sculpture or a charcoal sketch, give your flash some negative space as part of its overall effect. One way you do this is to eliminate and pare back excess words, as I’ve mentioned. Another way is to play with ambiguity, or place some spaces in the narrative for the reader to enter. This is particularly effective, I believe, in erotic flash fiction. Let the reader catch a glimpse of themselves in a hotel room mirror. Let them recall that exquisite orgasm through your erotic detail of a mouth, a hand, a sensation. Vanessa Gebbie aptly surmises:

“A great piece of flash fiction creates a complete world in very few words, draws you in, and makes you complicit. You become the creator too, in partnership, filling in the gaps the writer leaves behind … And because it is, to some extent, ‘yours’, it has a lasting effect.”

There’s lots of great flash fiction available online to read, and I’ve provided a few links below. I love Leonora’s meme here , because as a writer I often respond well to an intriguing image as a prompt. If you’ve not done this before, give it a try. Writing a flash story can also be a good warm-up exercise after a writing dry spell, or to begin exploring an idea for a (longer) story.

So, take that spark of an idea, set that pen on fire and light up a little narrative with your own writerly brilliance.


Adrea Kore is a writer, poet, and developmental editor, focusing her lens on female sexuality and creative expression. Her erotic flash fiction, short stories and poetry have been published online and in numerous anthologies. Most recently, her poem “Made in Darkness” landed in Lustily Ever After, erotic re-tellings of myth and fairytale. 


Adrea enjoys being distracted from her long-term writing projects by short term pleasures such as this article. She collects corsets and antique tea-cups. Find her wearing one and sipping from the other here, and browse her flash fiction gallery from the menu.

Look out for her sexy story “Dance for Me,” featured in the newly-released erotic anthology For the Men: And the Women who Love Them (edited by Rose Caraway). Available on Amazon, Smashwords, iBooks and coming soon in audio-book format. 

Read Adrea’s latest post about her story in the anthology here.


Craft Articles

David Gaffney

Vanessa Gebbie 

Online Sites / Journals for Flash Fiction

Erotica Readers & Writers Association 

Malin James 

Flash Fiction 

Matter Press 


Wicked Wednesday #227 — The New Guy

Eliza pressed her hand to her head.

Life was wilder than fiction…she could not have made any of this up. She rolled from side to side on the bed, at first not sure literally where she was–

–in bed.

–or where she was…

…in Paris.

She loved Paris, but she had not been excited about this trip. Aside from all of the things that were going on in her personal life with Rafe and Oscar, she was less than thrilled about her traveling companion.

The new guy in her department had rubbed her the wrong way as soon as she met him. He was far too cocky, and did not mesh with anyone in her department. He was abrupt with her, and she was his boss. She had not wanted to go with him, but he was hired because he had contacts in France, and they wanted to expand outside of Paris. Plus his French was impeccable.

On the plane there, they sat side by side. Eliza pressed her head to the window, and felt the new guy fall asleep on her shoulder. She wanted to push him off of her, but she figured he was asleep. She reread texts that she and Oscar had exchanged. Oscar mentioned Polly, and that was almost too much for her to bear.

As work colleagues, the new guy was spectacular. In and out of meetings, he was spectacular. And then there were the awkward interactions between them, when they were not in meetings. Eliza would stare at her phone, and the new guy would sit across from her.

“You should dump that guy…”

Eliza looked up at him.


“You keep staring at your phone frowning. I know that look, you should dump the guy.”

She picked up her phone, and walked out onto the terrace. The new guy followed her.

“Don’t jump!”

Eliza rolled around on her bed, and felt as if she was burned when she rolled into his body.

It was the new guy, and he was still asleep. She swallowed as she watched him. This truth was far stranger than fiction…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

wicked weds

the new guy via wicked wednesday


Masturbation Monday No. 109

“What are you doing Nichy?” Sonia said, caressing her e-cigarette.

Nichy stared at Sonia. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tyler asleep on the couch. He had barely gotten undressed the night before. His arm covered his face, and she could see the edge of his boxer shorts. She remembered lying beside him on the couch.

Sonia had offered them her spare bedroom, but they had fallen asleep on the couch. She woke up with her hand just inside the band of his boxers. The lettering on the waistband felt like braille on her fingertips telling her, her hand should go further. Her hand rested on his hipbone, and then she let her thumb turn down toward his crotch like an adventurous hitchhiker.

“Why did you bring Tyler here? Does he know…” Sonia continued.

Nichy raised her eyes wide at Sonia, who took a deep inhale from her e-cigarette.

Their cups clicked, as she got up and returned to Tyler’s side. He was sexy as hell to her when he just woke up, disoriented for a moment but then completely aware. Even in Sonia’s apartment, he had his bearings.

“You,” he said softly, and she touched him. He was semi-hard. He often woke up with some type of erection. The skin of his penis was as familiar to her as her own skin, even though he felt different than she did.

“You…” she started. “are beautiful.”

Tyler pulled her on top of him, and Nichy did not care that they were in the middle of the living room. She felt as much inhibition as Sonia’s friends had felt when they arrived to the apartment. With his hands inside of her panties, Nichy did not care. Tyler touched her like she was as familiar to him, as she was to her.

What she was doing was intimacy.

With Tyler.

She had never imagined that she would be with him, like this. Never imagined that she would have feelings for him like this after all the time that they had been friends in the office. But here she was on top of him like a crown. He pulled the crotch of her panties to the side and they fucked like they were animals in the wild. They were shameless in their cries and exposure. Nichy almost fell off of him from their rough thrusting, but righted herself atop him and knew that Sonia could see why she brought Tyler there…

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masturbation monday

paris via wikipedia