Author Archives: F Dot Leonora

I'm Across The Pond Today!!!

Tabitha Rayne who I adore, she is a brilliant writer included in my first anthology, MY FIRST THREESOME and is just a brilliant human being in general! She is also a member of the fabulous Brit Babes, and believe me they are fabulous! When Tabitha personally invited me to guest blog I was beyond tickled pink–join me over at their blog today where they even provided the pink bubbly for me!

photo by f dot leonora

Suivez-Moi (Follow Me)

I am tickled pink to be on the incomparable Alison Tyler‘s “Flash Fuck Me” blog today! It is my first flash fiction piece, and retaught me the lesson that spontaneity is the best thing for my writing…so suivez-moi to my flash fuck!

Wicked Wednesday #116 — Photograph

Fiona brought the paper to her that morning, folded and presented the quadrant that had the photo.
It was of Oscar, they were using the photo Fiona had taken of him in Shanghai. Fiona had taken some candids of him. The article was about Fiona’s photography, questioning how she had gotten such photographs of Oscar who was usually depicted very stern.
Eliza often saw pictures of Oscar in the newspaper. His business made it so and now that she knew him, she was hyperconscious of it.
Her hand caressed his image on the page as she waited in the Grammercy Park restaurant for their assignation. She sipped fresh-squeezed orange juice, and looked around for him she hoped not anxiously.
When he walked in, her heart raced and she stopped breathing. It always felt like a prelude to death, the violent reactions she had to the sweetness of him entering a room. His kiss on her hand, palm and mouth in that order ranged from sweet to playful and…something else.
“It’s good to see you,” Eliza purred, her entire being filled with that sense of something else.
“And you Eliza.”
She reached for her orange juice.
“You know, I know this sounds…weird…but even though I knew about your girlfriend…even though she is beautiful, and I know you deserve someone that is your own…even though it is hard for me to see you with someone.”
Oscar stared at her, digesting what she had rambled she thought.
“You mean to say you still want me? You still want to fuck me?”
Eliza felt a bead of perspiration burst about her temple as she looked at him. His scent was warm because of his nearness, his body masquerading as business man on a business meeting with her as a client it could have appeared. She had her tablet on the table because she did have some work while waiting for him. To distract her so she would not burst out with her pathetic sidestepping of her desire.
It was Oscar who had gotten her wet the night before, and even the steak she took out to defrost had not roused her the way it usually did. Reminding her of that frisky moment with Rafe that had ressurrected their sex life.
She had taken the steak out on purpose to remind her, but this close to Oscar it was very hard not to remember the first time they met in a hotel not nearly as civilized as this.
“Yes, and yes…”
He leaned back, the gaps between the buttons on his shirt showed his undershirt, but she imagined his bare chest beneath her hands.
“I’m not engaged. Severine and I are not exclusive. But you…”
“Don’t taunt me, if you don’t want me…”
He stood up, Eliza looked down.
“Are you coming with me or not?”
“You want me–”
He came around to her at the table.
“What is it with you and hotels? Are you going to make me drag you upstairs? This breakfast thing was your way of making it nice Eliza, like we are just two people who are going to converse about the stock market. Not like we are two people who want to fuck each other.”
“You’re being so abrasive…”
“I thought you liked me like that.”
“I did, I do…”
He turned around, she followed him. Between her legs slicker than they had been the first time he ordered her around in a hotel.
The elevator was not empty when they went up, until one floor from his. He pulled her close to him.
“I miss you,” he buried his face in the crook of her neck which was her undoing. She had tired of playing the coquette, leaning into him when he lifted his head. Drunk with desire, she clung to him as the elevator door opened.
The reflection of the couple in the hallway was of pure lust. The woman was barely dressed, kissing the man’s suited chest as he tied his tie.
Eliza knew that if she made eye contact in the mirror, she was making eye contact in earnest. She remembered the photograph coming to life in the restaurant last night of the woman Oscar was dating, now in the mirror beside Rafe.

More Wicked Wednesday here:


E(lust) #61–My First Inclusion

Although I am a volunteer judge for e(lust)–and always retweet the newest editions–the only way to post the digest on one’s blog is to be included in it. I am beyond humbled to be included with my fellow bloggers, many of whom I know personally and admire. Additionally, I am delighted to share the below with you, to savor like a fine chocolate…

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Photo courtesy of Maria opens up

Welcome to Elust #61

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #62? Start with the rules, come back September1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Bloggers, please
I Touch Myself
Stunt Porn / People Porn

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Is sex unsexy? A ‘His & Hers’ post
Van Gogh, an erotic author and a selfie…


~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

His Desires

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7

days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Anorgasmia in women
One Week On
Safe Craigslist Hookups
Online Dating: How to Talk to People
Stealth Sex Toys-Stash Management
Last Longer In Bed For Men Naturally

Erotic Non-Fiction

Spicing Up Sex Life
Gasp, Shake, Thank You
Again and Again
Fapping to My Photos and Stories
Did you miss me?
Desire….What happens when you can’t succumb?
Off Balance
On the Sofa
The Solace of My Body
Self Given
Orgasms & Ice Cream
Skid Marks

Sex News,Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Jacky au royaume des filles
What makes a sex writer?
Dubrovnik whore as metaphor 4 Balkan politics
Am I Pretty or Ugly?

Erotic Fiction

Lonely observations
Fucking and Being Fucked
The Churning Black, Part 4
A Return to Purpose
Bang on Target!
My Night With Lilith

Writing About Writing

Words That Shouldn’t Be In Erotica
Transhumanist Erotica: Jacked In


Just One Look

Thoughts and Advice on Kink and Fetish

The Hotness Of Cockteasing A Guy In Chastity
My eyes are over here
Submissive Men 101 Facts
Emotional Masochism
The time I made him make me safeword


Frame Game – A Lusty Limerick


Diana J Torres-
Vagaculation Workshop

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Wicked Wednesday #115 — Traffic Signs

His undone bowtie under her foot, Severine observed her naked long-limbed reflection in the mirror.
The irony was on the way to the hotel, even the traffic signs were conflcting: STOP and YIELD. But she knew she was not going to stop, that she was going to yield to Rafe.
She sang a French lullaby to herself to stop her heart from racing as it had been from the moment she slipped on her thigh highs. Fingered their lacy tops the way she wanted Rafe to touch her where she felt like satin, not lace.
The traffic signs and lights merged into one, a color-filled blur…everything was a blur as she headed up to the hotel room–not the one she was sharing with Oscar, but the one that Rafe gotten for them.
She walked into the room, he was not there. Then she heard the door slam, and before she could turn around she was grabbed from behind. Her struggle reminded her of when she studied ballet. Up in the air, her legs pedaled a resistance she did not really
Before she could open her mouth, his hand covered it. His scent was everywhere, stained the air as her legs their continued
resistance she did not really desire, but she waged it anyway.
His kiss on her neck quieted her. Her legs back down on the ground, Severine pressed into the front of him. Rafe’s mouth did not leave her neck as he sought the satiny bit of her, she craved for him to touch. She closed her eyes and everything happened to her, he happened to her.
Her eyes on her figure again in the mirror, she picked up his bowtie and took in his scent.
In this moment he was hers again, though she felt as disposable as one of the characters created by the playwright in The Twilight Zone who would conjure and dispose
of his characters at will.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked her.
Severine studied him, her head cocked.
“The traffic signs on the way here said stop and yield…I yielded…”

More Wicked Wednesday here:


photo via google images


Wicked Wednesday #114 — Doubt

Rafe settled across from Eliza, it was the first time in a really long time that he felt like they were together.
It was certainly the first time they had gone out in a long time since the accident.
He gazed at her hand wearing the ring he was always proud he had chosen without her. His tastes were far grander than hers. It was not obnoxious of him to say he was the architect of the woman before him, of the woman he was going to marry.
Eliza was more bohemian, and honestly seemed more like someone his sister would date. She recently confessed that she sometimes felt confined by the role of wife to be, so he tried to be more open.
He ran his hand through her hair, absently twisted a strand over and over again as he looked at the hair of the woman at the next table. Her hair was like Severine’s. Severine could be in New York, but she normally told him when she was coming to the city. Or when she was coming underneath him.
His heart still raced when he thought about her. The look on her face when he last saw her on Skype, let him know that he should leave her alone. She was in love with him, and he was not sure what he would be if he continued to contact her.
Eliza looked beautiful in the candlelight, in the dress he had bought her when he was away years ago. The color went well with her hair and eyes. He looked at her hands, and then up at the choker about her neck. There was no doubt that he loved her.
But he could not stop looking at the woman at the other table, her lovely form from behind leaning toward the man she was with. It was wrong, but if it was Severine, he wanted to hurt that man. The rage he felt that the man was sitting with her was irrational, but he felt it.
He felt a lot of things.
Severine, or her look-alike would not turn around for the love of God and he had to be careful with Eliza. She would know if his attention was divided. He reengaged with her, and then he paused. Pretended he was looking for the waiter.
It was Severine, not a look-alike. She noticed him instantly. The look on her face was wildly animalistic. Her walk to the bathroom was steady and self-assured to anyone who was looking, but Rafe knew she was not. He excused himself to go to the bathroom.
The path she took brimmed with her scent of tuberose. The bathroom was was dim, but the frosted glass door revealed which stall she had walked into in the unisex bathroom. Rafe put out his hand to prevent her from closing the door. Severine leaned against the wall, her foot on the toilet seat because there was barely enough room in the stall for the two of them.
S’il te plait…” she said, her French rampant when she was vulnerable.
“I knew it was you even from behind.” He cornered her.
“I’m with someone.” She pasted herself to the wall.
“I’m with Eliza,” he said, caressing her face and touching the long dark hair that he had been eyeing with memories. He brought a fistful of it to his nose to take in the scent. “I just wanted to say hi.”
“Touch me.”
Rafe wanted to touch her with every fiber of his being, but he could not have her scent on him. She hitched up her skirt. Closed her eyes,
“I hate myself for wanting you to touch me, but please…please.”
He caressed her face, the smoothness of her cheek, her full red mouth…he needed to touch her other mouth.
She was wet like she always was when he touched her. He caressed just her satiny labia, she almost slipped she was at such a precarious angle.
“Where are you staying?”
Severine dug deep in her clutch, and pulled out a card from the hotel where she was staying.

Eliza gasped.
When she looked up in the mirror and saw Oscar, she gasped.
When Rafe returned, she weakly excused herself to go to the bathroom. In the bathroom mirror, Oscar was behind her.
She was glad it was a unisex bathroom.
“You’re beautiful.”
He’d told her that when she was in the hospital, now when he was telling her it might have been true to him.
She wrapped her arms about him, her desire like fire ignited on the side of a matchbox. Restraining herself, she moved back from him.
“I am so happy to see you. I could not wait for tomorrow, but now is like bonus time.”
Oscar smiled at her.
“Is that the woman you have been seeing in Paris?”
He nodded.
“She’s beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Eliza held the bathroom sink for support.
“I have to go, but tomorrow?” he questioned her.
She swallowed hard and gasped.
“Yes, have no doubt.”
They hovered over each other, the fire ignited again, then sputtered when he kissed her cheek.
Left her for now.
When she saw her face in the mirror, she was filled with doubts.
Her walk back to Rafe was unsteady, but his smile comforted her. Calmed her for the moment. Her emotions were as crooked as the books stacked by the fireplace in the restaurant beside Rafe.

More Wicked Wednesday here:


photo by f dot leonora

Sticky Note No. 7

Yesterday, I wrote this inspired by a wedge that I saw on subway tracks the day before yesterday. Tamsin Flowers shared with me that she always wondered how shoes ended up on the highway…my character had one more shoe, so I decided to explore that…

Her bare feet were on the dashboard. It was pitch black outside, except for the stars that were piercing white almost like the sun. She was being a bit of a monster. A spoiled child really, daring him again. He did, threw her other wedge out of the car and onto the highway. Every time she saw stray shoes on subway tracks, trees or highways, she wondered how they got there. Once a bully snatched her new mary jane from her foot and hid it. Her mother was so mad at her, did not care that she had been bullied. Now she was bullying and hoping to be bullied now in a grownup way.

photo by f dot leonora

Sticky Note No. 6

I was waiting on the subway platform, looked down on the tracks and instead of a rat…there was a woman’s single wedge. I curled over–carefully–to take a picture. I knew it was going to be a sticky, but not how it would manifest. The pen I wrote with was choppy at best, but I always type it out for you so…

The tattoo said “Monster.” She could not believe that someone would have a tattoo that telling if it was true. Looking at her wedge on the subway tracks, she herself wedged against the filthy column and him her thoughts were readjusted. Her bare foot on his shoe, so she did not have to step on the even filthier platform. Her hand on his bare chest not out of affection, but necessity to balance. She’d dared him to, he did. Disbelief filled her but secretly, she liked that he’d put her in that precarious position. A game like adolescents would play, but they were not. Her desire rose…

photo by f dot leonora

A Darker Flame: Now What?

Now what exactly! When Chris of Stranded in Toronto said he needed a prompt for his deliciously named erotica meme A Darker Flame.…well I could not leave him stranded, could I?! I came up with this prompt, so that means I had to write a story…gulp!
Let me tell you this meme is amazing, and I am going to be a return customer! Getting to this point was half the fun! Below is what I came up with…

Adora embraced herself on the sand. She arrived on the island with three things as she was instructed, while she waited for Elijah to meet her after his conference. She had been with him in Chile for a few days, but he suggested she might like time alone to write.
Her notebook, a fountain pen and a book of Pablo Neruda poems she bought in Santiago were all she had. She bought the book of poems after she had visited La Chaschona, the home Neruda had named after Mathilde his wife. The wife he had written the passionate poems in her possession about.
Inside the bungalow she took off all of her clothes except for her corset which she bought in a Chilean store. Even without Elijah there, she was in a mood. Between her legs wound with desire she could not ignore. Absently, she caressed her notebook and the Neruda poems.
She was alone, but she felt surrounded by the spirits of literary icons like Neruda and Anaïs Nin. Adora was a huge diarist like Nin. She shared everything with Elijah, but the journal was hers. The things she did not, and could not share with him.
The wound pulse between her legs demanded attention. She ran her hand over the hollow of her neck, trickling her fingers to the softness that was her breasts pushed to the top of her corset. Her breasts were smooth, and she enjoyed playing with them.
Then she heard movement in the house.
The house belonged to Didier, Elijah’s boss who was letting let her stay there for the few days. But there was obviously someone in the house. She put her petticoat back on, thinking maybe it was housekeeping since the house was impeccably clean.
When she turned the corner barefoot, she gasped at the Didier who she recognized from behind.
She was very familiar with him from various angles.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she stated bluntly without finesse.
“What are you supposed to be? Madonna circa her Like a Virgin period?”
Adora had to admit, she was channeling that look in her lacy white corset and petticoat.
“Elijah told me you wouldn’t be here.”
Didier looked her up and down in the lingering way he did that she hated herself for liking. He always looked at her like that, and it always made her tight as if knots of rope for tug of war were being pulled between her legs.
“Because I told him I would not be here.”
“But why?”
He walked toward her, and she tried to pretend like it did not affect her.
Elijah had a close relationship with Didier. And from the moment that she met him…that was when she began to have journal entries she could not share with Elijah.
“I wanted you here by yourself.”
Adora rubbed her eyes, sure she was dreaming. Didier whose name meant to be desired, was saying he wanted her there by herself. She could not believe this was happening.
Because she had dreamed it.
“Why do you want me alone?” She put her arms behind her back moving back toward the wall.
“I want you, and I know I shouldn’t so if I have you…if I have you I will not think about it anymore.”
“But I do not want you.”
He paused in front of her, and she stopped breathing.
“If it happens here in the house on this island, it is almost like it didn’t happen.”
Adora’s breath returned as she pressed herself against the wall. He followed her, and placed his hands on either side of her.
“But I do not want you.”
Both times the lie was weak, but she wanted to believe it.
“From the time I met you, I have not been able to see Elijah the same because he is with you.”
Looking into his eyes was a bad idea, she softened as she looked up at him.
“I’m with Elijah.” she reiterated.
His hands on her hips, he traced her shape through the corset.
“You are trying to act like when we kissed at the ball it was nothing.”
Her body even softer, she closed her eyes and swallowed when he took hold of her arms and pressed her to him.
Adora really thought she wanted time alone, but time alone would have been to write about Didier. To write about the kiss at the company ball, where Elijah left her with Didier to work.
Where she kissed Didier, then ran away pulling her gown up and acting like Cinderella. But instead of a pumpkin, she turned into a ball of desire.
Being with him right now scared her. She’d wanted to be with Didier on this empty island in her dreams, and now she was terrified.
Always the good girl, she had never been with a man simply because she wanted him. Especially if she was with someone else. She always dressed sex with love. Barely dressed now, she very much wanted Didier.
Stepping out of her petticoat, she pressed her breasts even more to his chest.
She did not want to talk anymore.
This kiss was not an accident, it was all encompassing her mouth sucking all the warmth from his.
“Take off everything except the corset, I like the way your breasts spill from the top.
Adora obeyed him, undressed except for the lacy corset.
He placed his hand over her bare triangle, his fingers played with her moisture.
“Let’s go outside.”
He took her hand, pulled a sheet from the bed and they slipped through the sliding doors. Didier spread the sheet over the sand, and got on his back.
“Show me what you want.”
Looking down at him, he looked so vulnerable. Adora saw her breasts push up all the more with the rapid beating of her heart. She sprawled over him, showed him what she wanted with his warm, hard body. Exploring different parts of him, she watched his face to tell what he liked and what he did not like.
She liked him touching her breasts, and that tiny spot between her legs where she would have to make a decision where she wanted him to enter her.
The sound of her racing heart and grunting anchored her as she made her decision. She had never been on top before, and every moment of it felt like a dream she was not waking up from.
Getting him in her and sliding completely down his shaft, her heart raced so that she was not sure if it was in her chest, or between her legs.
“I knew I would find you here!”
Elijah stood at the sliding doors. Adora was startled, but at the same time she was almost about to come.
“I knew I would find you here,” Elijah bellowed again with a revolver pointed.
Adora could not let Didier slip out of her, but she was frozen with fear and unable to absorb the desire that the etymology of his name demanded…

Darker flames can be found here:


photo via wikipedia

Wicked Wednesday #113 –Past, Present, Future

Even with Oscar’s hand in hers. Even though they were the only people in the forest. Even though they had made love against the only tree in the forest, Severine did not feel like she was with Oscar. Her past with men–not only Rafe–had disenchanted her.
Everyone needed her body like breath or blood in the beginning, and she loved sex so it was beautiful. Her libido was indefatigable. Sex always worked well, because that was how she interpreted love. Words meant little to her. If the song went it is in his kiss, for her it was in the way a man made love to her. She’d read that in The Mandarins by Simone de Beauvoir, Anne in the novel said you never really knew what a man was like until you were in bed with him.
With Severine it always felt like she made love in a forest, being the only two people in that time and space. But then at some point she and the man she was with got lost like Hansel and Gretel, with nothing at all to lead them back where they had started.
She held Oscar’s hand tightly presently as she thought about past lovers. She had the advantage in this moment, because she was the one doing the navigating in the forest. He followed her, because she was the one who had gotten them here. Most places they went she knew how to navigate better than he did, well at least the far-flung locations like this.
Except Shanghai. Oscar knew a lot about Shanghai, even though he did not tell her much about his time there. She did not ask him a lot, because previously she was unlike Anne in The Mandarins. Her behavior was more like Paula clinging to Henri in the beginning of the book, wanting to believe so much in everything. Even what was not there anymore.
But she was in control presently, of their movement through the forest and her emotions. Oscar’s warm hand in hers, if she put his fingers to her mouth she would taste herself. Yet still she did not feel close enough to him. Or maybe she was afraid to feel close to him…
If serendipity had not taken flight in her life like a grand papillon, if she had not met Oscar randomly in her favorite cafe…She had had no intention of suggesting or starting anything on the plane, because she was still in love with Rafe she had believed. She told Oscar that in the cafe.
He told her about the woman who had haunted him currently. All of their ghosts were put on the table next to their grande cafes, explored like tarot cards. Soft kisses followed only that day, tender and rough lovemaking later. Usually it was a little bit of both tender and rough when they made love. She liked rough because she needed to feel what was being done to her strongly.
They would be in New York tomorrow, and their future would be determined in a much more defined way. The ghosts they placed on the table in Paris were there and even though they had not talked about it, they would know what their future held after that.
Severine was not afraid this time of facing the truth in love. She pulled Oscar’s hand to her mouth, slowly sucked his fingers so she could taste herself on the platter of him.
“Can you taste yourself?”
His words jarred her, but she kissed his hand, dragged her tongue along a vein and nodded.
He stiffened. Severine knew she was no longer in control. The sun filled her eyes, and their tongues filled each other’s mouths.
On the flight going to New York, Severine wanted to flaunt that she was with Oscar, especially for Eleanora’s benefit. But she did not want to give her the leverage to taunt her with it. She was taunted enough with him there, looking at him made her think of forests and lovemaking.
And not getting lost.
They had made love in a plethora of destinations, because of her job as a flight attendant. She ached to slip into the bathroom like they did in the past on prior flights. It was always his impetus. Him looking restless in his seat, tie undone and his hands moving over the wave of his shirt where the buttons were. She went along willingly, staggering her arrival into the tiny bathroom that made peeing a nightmare but created a delicious tightness for making love. Her ass on the sink, and her legs pistoning about him.
Presently she just ran through her mental picture book of them..
What was them?
She walked down the aisle by Oscar, and sudden turbulence and a little extra landed her on his lap. He was hard. Eleanora stared at her, but for a moment she could not resist looking in his eyes and thinking about their future.
“I’m sorry!” she announced for the entire first class.
He caressed her ass just barely.
“No problem.”
With a slight long caress with her backside over his thighs, she imagined giving a lap dance. She felt him get that much harder, and she sashayed away. Not looking back at him, but thinking about tomorrow in New York, and of ghosts.

More Wicked Wednesday here:


photo of the ouija board by norman rockwell taken by f dot leonora