Category Archives: writing

Whenever I Call You Friend

It was not awkward, but Eliza noticed all of the differences in her body now that she was pregnant. She had had a lot of nausea in the first month and was tired all of the time. Those were the symptoms that made her check to see what was going on with her.

She and Rafe had not been trying to have a baby—especially not when she was sleeping regularly with Oscar. They used protection of course, she only did not use protection with Rafe. So when she realized she was pregnant she knew her baby had to be for her husband and that was the way it should be. Rafe said that he did not even question, because any baby she had would be theirs.

Looking at her naked body in the mirror, after having made love to her husband, Eliza studied everything new about herself. Her breasts were fuller, her nipples were darker and her eyes were brighter. There was a suggestion of a line from her navel to her mound, and it awed her to see all of the changes that were happening to her body…

…because of her baby.

The doorbell rang, and she wrapped her robe about herself. She was not expecting anyone. She had begun doing some small work remotely, but there were no meetings planned.

When she saw Oscar through the peephole, she swallowed.

Rafe had just left for work, and she was not sure what to say to Oscar. She had already told him the baby was not his, but then she paused and knew he was still grieving Chloe. When she opened the door, he greeted her with a warm kiss and her robe opened. He looked down at her body.

“You are beautiful,” he said, as she tied her robe about her waist.

Her eyes were warm when she looked at him,

“Do you want some coffee?”

He shook his head,

“I just wanted to see you, to see a friend.”

Eliza nodded, as much as she loved him she was a little afraid what he wanted from her as a friend.

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friendship via wikipedia

Burst

Damaris was inordinately aroused, as she was driven back to her apartment. Nyla had her driver drive her back there, because she wanted her to be especially fresh for Jared.

Damaris had every intention of being ready for him.

When she went back to her apartment, she took off all of her clothes, and folded them neatly in the bathroom. She was on such a fire, she was almost afraid to touch herself. A finger on her nipple was like striking a match, and she thought she would come from doing just that so she was afraid to touch herself anymore. It would be so much better to burst with Jared when he got there.

Damaris dressed slowly because she was afraid that any touch would made her burst with pleasure before his arrival. Thankfully he was right on time like he always was, and she was ready for him.

“Beautiful,” he said, and the sound of his voice almost made her come with its resonance. He looked her up and down lingering–she had dressed for him to linger on her every curve.

Her gown was transparent, and he could see everything. She could see everything behind him in the mirror. He cupped her breasts immediately, as he kissed her neck. His breath at her nape almost took her over the edge, but she did not. She hoped that it would be one of the times when he could not wait and that he would take her swiftly against the door, or not so much further than that.

It was.

He pressed her to the full-length mirror by the door. Her lips, palms and nipples touched the mirror, as he pulled up the back of her gown. His grunts of urgency made her thighs shiver, as she was desperate for him. With wide eyes, she caught his in the mirror and he looked at her while he fucked her. Each thrust was all the more intense because he looked at her while he did. His eyes widened as she fucked him back, but they never stopped looking at each other even when she came so quickly she was ashamed.

Jared held her breasts, and kissed her temple as he looked at her in the mirror.

“Beautiful.”

It was.

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image via Petticoat Diva Jo

The Look of Lust

Damaris was Nyla’s best girl, so she had a relationship with her whether she wanted it or not. A lucrative one in which she invited her over once a week for a meal, and the guise of friendship. It was Damaris’ impetus on that–they both probably knew it was easier to keep an enemy close at hand than not.

One of her top clients who had never asked to see any girl more than once, now only wanted to see Damaris. Nyla could not deny that she had some kind of appeal, and plus she did look so much like Carole. And like Gui, Jared Martel was stuck on Damaris.

But even while Nyla wondered what kind of je ne sais quoi Damaris possessed, she looked in the distance for Andres who she knew had to be nearby but she could not see him and it made her ache for him in her heart the way she did between her legs.

Now that they were lovers she felt him even when he was not with her. The first time they made love, they had waited so long. When he entered her, they were both still. The sensation of entering felt like maybe the high that a criminal got entering a place they did not belong. But the two of them did belong, and she grabbed his buttocks and he moved in and out of her. Her hips floated after him between thrusts inside her, like she did not want him to leave her body even that little bit.

Presently Nyla crossed her legs, and looked for Andres surreptitiously. Her heart and between her legs hungry for him…

*** ***

Damaris drank the brunch cocktail, which she was not even sure what juice it was for the mimosa. No, it was a Kir Royale. She had an appointment with Jared after, and all she could feel was the way her body vibrated when he called her beautiful. She shivered thinking about his sound, his touch.

Nyla mentioned him, and Damaris bit her tongue not to give herself away. She sipped her Kir Royale, and it was tasteless as she was only thinking about Jared.

Damn Jared!

He made her toes curl when she just thought about him, and not just about the sex. His limited communication was as intense as words. The way he looked at her, touched her and worshiped her in bed he did not have to say anything at all. He made her feel like no other man did and how could she forget that?

But he was a client, he was not an option. Not that she had not ever dabbled with that before, but that was not who she was now. She was trying to get her life together. Nyla even had to give her her due—she was her best girl. She worked hard, and she had worked hard with Jared why he made love to her—had sex with her–the way that he did. It was a perk of being good at what she did. Even though the thought of him touching her made her shiver again. She could barely eat or drink because anything she put in her mouth tasted like Jared. She could taste him, feel him—everything already. When Nyla mentioned him, Damaris hoped she did not see her look of lust…

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image via Lascivious Lucy

Hungry Like the Wolf

Damaris knew very well what had happened that night, but she would not say a word…Her word did not mean anything anyway after what had happened with Gui–after they found out that she had lied about everything about their marriage.

She knew they would find out she had lied, but she wanted to make sure that he did not come looking for her. She did not want to be saved. Gui was a good man, he wanted to save her and there was nothing she wanted less.

She made him think that everything had been a joke, that she had not meant it anything serious when she married him.

She had…

When she came back to New York she was looking for it seedy and dark, because that was what she wanted…

…or at least what she thought she deserved. She knew that Gui would want to save her because he would want to save her the way be could not save Carole—the way none of them had been able to save her sister.

She was currently afraid to toss and turn in the guest room even, because the huge man and slight woman who watched over her seemed responsive to her every shift in the bed.

Damaris had come here because she needed some certainty in her life money-wise and Graham had always helped her. She actually was sad that Graham had died, because he had always been very kind to her…in many, many ways. Kind but removed…

She had tried to come onto him, but he was never interested in her. Again, it was because of Carole. Carole set the bar, and she was not able to raise it or get past her sister’s memory.

Even when they shared a man, Damaris was not the lead sister. They looked so much alike, but people were more drawn to Carole.

Had Harry been reminded of Carole as well when he was with her? Or was he drawn to her? At the bar had not been their first time. When she had watched him and SabrinaNyla now—having sex, she knew that she had opened Pandora’s Box.

“You like to watch?” he had questioned her not right after, so that when he asked her she was a bit taken aback.

Damaris looked at him.

“I could see you even from a distance,” he said coming close to her. “Wet, hot…”

Damaris opened her mouth to talk, but his lips were over hers quickly and she pulled his hand to touch her…because she was still wet, hungry.

He teased her, and ran his finger over and over the thin strip of hair just about her wet, hungry lips. Damaris squirmed because she wanted him. She knew what he could do because she had watched him–she had seen him fuck. He pressed his finger right at the tip of her divide, and she practically came from that…

She remembered very well how the night after that had unfolded, Damaris thought, her hand between her legs…but it did not matter anymore.

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Jack and Jill Adult

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still from hungry like the wolf via wikipedia

Getting It Up For My Sisters!!!

I have a brand-new post up on the Sisters In Smut blog! About when I am not able to get it up…go take a look!!!

http://www.sistersinsmut.com/f-leonora-solomon/getting-it-up/

And The Winner Is…

I have been writing since I was 7 years old. I like to make the comparison that I do it the same way that birds makes nests and bees make honey…instinctively. If you ask me if I am good at it, the best I can offer you is that I am good with words. Written, verbally, aurally…which is why it means so very much when someone tells me I am a good writer. Especially someone who I believe is a good writer. Horny Geek Girl nominated me for a Bad Girl Blogger award. I cannot say enough about how I value the honesty and emotion that drives her work, so to have her value mine means so much to me. Along with this nomination, I am going to nominate five other bloggers aside from Horny Geek Girl that I adore…in alphabetical order…

Flutterby Flip much like Horny Geek Girl, writes honest and emotional pieces that take my breath away. In addition, she writes in a poetic style that I can feel myself feeling exactly the way she does line by line. And she takes ridiculously beautiful photographs. She is simply beautiful.

Malin James is just masterful. Her fiction and nonfiction are like master classes in the genre. Even her e-mails are stunning! She just knows how to make her subjects tactile, anything seems palatable when she describes it and I love it.

Marie Rebelle is a marvel to me. She writes in two languages, is an artist, takes amazing photographs and everything comes from the heart. She is like a butterfly that just is, no cocoon, just is beautiful with full wings and filled with the most honest beauty. Her latest piece for e-lust is just stunning, floored me. And she nominated me as one of her top 20 bloggers of 2014. I feel happily lachrymose, just thinking about how much that means to me coming from her.

Oleander Plume is my role model. I do not know anyone who is as flawlessly prolific as she is. I adore everything I love about her, that I see in her work as well. Her fiction makes me envious, and her nonfiction is so real, so heartbreakingly gorgeous…Shameless plug you can see her fiction, my fiction and Malin’s in Chemical [se]X.

Charlie of Sex Blog (of Sorts) is a fellow Francophile like myself, and a flawless blogger. I greedily devour her posts like a chocolate bonbon. Carelessly unwrapped, and each word savored on my mind.

There are so many bloggers I love–be sure to look at Horny Geek Girl’s and Marie Rebelle’s posts for more! Now I offer my nominees to follow the rules below, and use the Bad Girl Blogger award using the logo below:

RULES: If you are a recipient, please choose 3-5 female bloggers who write about sex (or post sexy pics of themselves, or both) that you admire and award them by passing on the award photo above and the rules. Also, give a brief explanations of why you love those bloggers so much. Be sure to notify your favourite bloggers that they got the award!

Thank you again HGG and Rebelle, you humbled me…

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Wicked Wednesday #100 — Full Circle

Eliza was happy that she was going to meet Rafe at his sister’s gallery opening. Meeting him there, she could blame her state of mind on jetlag and not having eaten. Quickly leaving her luggage at the coat check, she had barely walked into the space before she was handed a glass of champagne she gladly accepted.

“Eliza!”

Fiona rushed to hug her. Eliza enjoyed the genuine warmth from her sister-in-law-to-be. Fiona was the artist her parents had not expected to have in the family, and the reason why they and Rafe tried to mold Eliza into the daughter they had really wanted.

She was perfect by their standards and Rafe’s.

Her husband-to-be stood behind his sister, his appraisal of her was appreciative and she felt placated. Her back in New York dress was one Rafe had selected himself. As soon as Fiona let her go, Rafe moved forward, caressed her hip and took her in his arms.

“I missed you,” he breathed behind her ear. She smiled more so because she was ticklish there as opposed to returning the sentiment.

She was not unhappy to see Rafe, but it was not as easy this time to leave Oscar…

Oscar, she whispered his name over and over in her head since she learned it, saying it to herself when she thought about him which was often.

Paris had been Oscar and Eliza. Oscar was in Shanghai now without her, and she was in New York with Rafe. She looked up at Rafe, into his eyes that studied her as if he was making sure there was nothing different about her. He closed his eyes, and pressed his lips to her forehead. Later when they were alone, she knew that the darkness in those eyes was going to be her very sensuous reality and she was very eager for that. To learn him again, her hands pressed to the expanse of his wide chest before she buried her face there. His lips were on the top of her head, as he caressed her face and pushed her hair away from her cheek.

Her eyes were glazed as she stared at the Francesca Woodmanesque photos that Fiona had filled the gallery with. It was clear that Woodman was an influence on her, Fiona’s work was a happier expression of that style. Champagne and delicacies flowed about them, as they strolled through the gallery.

“Fiona, this is gorgeous,” Eliza said, still in Rafe’s embrace.

“You always know the right thing to say,” Rafe whispered to her after his sister walked away.

The sepia photos were lovely, and Fiona was young, fearless and not afraid to use her body as an instrument.

Eliza wished that she had that kind of confidence.

Rafe’s parents appeared around a gallery corner and kissed her before they kissed their own daughter. Eliza had that kind of relationship with his parents. She had now come full circle from her accidental transgression.

This was where she belonged.

“How was Paris?” Rafe’s mother asked her beaming.

“Paris is Paris!” she exclaimed brightly, as Rafe squeezed her.

“It was more lovely while you were there,” he said.

She closed her eyes as Rafe kissed the tip of her nose. His mother continued beaming,

“You lovebirds! Let’s go have dinner, we have reservations close by…”

Dinner was pleasant talk about Paris reinvented by Eliza without mention of Oscar. Fiona was silent all throughout, having expressed dismay at her show.

“It was a lovely show Fiona, I am not sure why you are so miserable,” her mother said to her.

“I need inspiration Mother. Everything I am doing seems so homogeneous…”

“So you are saying you have come full circle with your art?” her father asked.

“You want to travel again?” Rafe asked with weak patience for his younger sister.

Fiona played with the gooey chocolate cake she had ordered, not looking at anyone at the table.

“I have only really ever gotten grants to work in Europe. There is a grant I could get in Shanghai…Eliza, you speak some Mandarin don’t you?’

Eliza choked.

“Yes, I can write a bit too.”
“You said you wanted to go somewhere exciting for your next vacation. Maybe if Rafe will loan you to me, we could go to Shanghai I want to visit anyway. I have a friend there who is an artist, and the scene there is kind of ambitious and if one of us speaks the language…”

“Of course Rafe will loan Eliza to you Fiona,” Rafe’s mother eyed Rafe and Eliza strongly which Fiona could not see because she was sitting next to her.

Rafe and Eliza were silent. She was going to be the obedient faux daughter, and go to Shanghai with Fiona.

Oscar, she almost said out loud, but caught herself as she exhaled a whoosh of air to disguise the sound of his name.

Home later with Rafe, he took off his tie.

“This would be the second place that I cannot come with you. Paris, now Shanghai…”

He held his tie, and opened his shirt.

“I can still say no,” she said walking over to him, putting her hands on his chest.

She wanted him to tell her no, wanted him to tell her not to go. She would have listened.

His dark eyes appraised her.

“I cannot disappoint my parents, they will not let Fiona go without you, and that means Fiona will go however she has to. We are a family, sometimes we have to make sacrifices…”

She nodded, looking down, he raised her chin so she looked up at him and kissed her.

“She can borrow you, but you are mine. My perfect girl…”
Eliza looked up at the cracks on the ceiling, moaning as he kissed her and again on a deep whoosh of exhaled breath, she hid the name she almost moaned and thought of Shanghai…

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photo via wikipedia