I sounded far more prudish than I had planned to but I had to admit to being slightly horrified by the scene before me.
‘Oh come on. You know how much I love Christmas.’
She did love Christmas, but this … this was just … obscene. She was lying on the bed with everything from baubles to tinsel scattered around her, a smooth bauble was still nestled in her palm and I am certain it’s shine would be slightly dulled in parts as her juices began to dry upon it. Fairy lights twinkled all around her and despite my reservations about her choice of erotic inspiration I did giggle, she looked like the naughtiest elf there had ever been.
Content Warning: If religion in erotica is not your thing, this may not be for you. Prayers and religious icons are referenced.
This is not my usual theme, and for good reason, I’m not practising any religion at present but I have been a fan of Jesus at certain points in my life, for various reasons. Which some people will probably find more offensive than the content of this blog post! I think two things inspired this piece though.
Firstly ‘Why should we call ourselves sinners’ by May More, which is an extremely sexy read and the image below that I saw on Twitter, I am however unsure of the original source of it. If anyone knows please do let me know.
Note: I mention the Top 100 Sex Blogs 2018 list by MollysDailyKiss and how the results are imminent. The results actually went live last night & are somewhat different from my reflections in this post. I’ve chosen to leave the post as is though.
It’s been a whole month since I did a #SoSS post! Mostly because I’ve been knackered and busy with new work and I’ll be totally honest blogging, both writing and reading, had to take a back seat for me to function like a normal human! BUT I’m feeling a bit more with it now, caffeine, vitamins and embracing naps has worked wonders. So without further ado let’s share some downright sexy blog posts from my fellow bloggers.
Content Warning: Contains themes of non-consent and forced drug use.
‘Amortentia doesn’t really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room – oh yes,’ he said, nodding gravely at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking sceptically. ‘When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love …’ Professor Slughorn – Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
She laughs as they ask what the drink is called, her answer weeding out the muggles. The embodiment of the word fanatic, she thinks they deserve to be fucked with if they are not aware of the world she inhabits, if only in her mind.
‘Amortentia my dear, it is a most powerful … aphrodisiac.’
She fails to mention that the aphrodisiac effect is for her and that something a little darker is meant for them.
I peered through the crack in the door, almost certain of what I’d see and I was not wrong or disappointed. He held in his hands a pair of my knickers, lacy, flimsy and definitely no match for his ever increasing erection.
‘Interesting choice. What made you choose them to wear?’
‘What? I … er …. oh, haha, very funny, no I just found these in my drawer and was putting them back for you.’
‘Or you were planning to wear them, watch porn and have a wank. But now you are going to wear them, not watch porn and be wanked.’
I did know the rules or should I say his rules and I thought they were fucking stupid. Not least of all because they weren’t my rules, but they were still imposing on my life and spoiling my fun. I wouldn’t mind if she was saying no, because she didn’t want it, but saying no when she did want it, just made no sense to me.
Rules aside, she began to remove her clothes, leaving nothing on but her white shirt and her tights, sheer with a hint of blue, I wanted nothing more than to rip them from her body, before pushing her thighs apart and delving tongue first into her delicious, wet cunt.
I think my desire for her is a form of madness, it twists in my gut, makes my mind foggy and pushes out any sense of propriety. Which always worked very well for us, friendship and passion combining, we would spend hours talking, fucking and exploring our mutual interest in photography.
This week’s Friday Flash was inspired by the image provided for this week’s prompt …
‘Listen to me.’
She wouldn’t listen to him. Especially when he meant ‘obey’ when he said listen. She was not a child or a doormat and he did not know what she wanted.
She despised him and his air of arrogance, his assumed authority over every woman that caught his eye, his piercing gaze and tone of voice that told her he thought she was just like the rest of the women who fawned all over him.
… I wanted to call this post ‘On Writing‘. I shan’t dwell on that though. However, if you haven’t read that particular title of Stephen King’s I highly recommend it.
Back to the post at hand and what perfect inspiration this week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt is for me. The blog has been quiet the last week or so. New working hours have been well and truly kicking my ass, there has been a lot of daytime snoozing to make sure my physical and mental health don’t slip. I have had to accept that for the moment the blog isn’t the most important thing in life right now. That doesn’t mean regular service won’t resume though, it will and the reason is that I love writing and when I saw the Wicked Wednesday prompt I knew it was the perfect blog post to kick start my writing again.
For me, writing has been an outlet of emotions since my teens. My first love when it came to producing writing was poetry. I can’t recall my exact age but I was around twelve I think when I read ‘Love’s Philosophy’ by Percy Bysshe Shelley. That single poem felt to me like the purest and most wonderful thing ever written. It sent me on a journey to discover a poem I loved more than that one. To this day I have never found one, that poem remains my all-time favourite. It moves something inside me everytime I read it and I never tire of it.
As many of you will know I enjoy getting involved in Sinful Sunday, while it is a great place to share images and find inspiration for new ways to create my own images, every now and then it inspires a blog post too. This time it is the wonderful image from Love is a Paraphilia. I was a bit stumped for a Masturbation Monday post this week, life has got a lot going on and I think a little bit of writer’s block set in towards the end of last week. But I couldn’t stop musing on the idea of discarded Polaroids being found in an old and derelict building, so I let my mind run with it and this is what came of that inspiration.
The old manor house had always been in a state of disrepair, new owners that purchased it but never saw fit to renovate let it move into derelict territory. As it lay abandoned it was impossible not to imagine what it could once have been, what memories must lie within its walls, as I stood in front of it I recalled the experiences I had there myself before it had fallen to be the ruin it now was.
We were young, adventurous and definitely thrill seekers, we engaged in what many people would consider ‘bedroom activities’ in a myriad of places, and rarely were any of them even close to a bedroom. Even as the seasons changed, and bright summer days gave way to autumn leaves and winter frosts we could still be found cavorting outside in various states of undress exploring the most intimates parts of one another.
She had admired him from afar for a long time. When she finally had the chance to engage him in conversation her admiration grew and so did her longing to be with him. She was disappointed that he seemed a little reticent to join her for dinner, and even more so when after eventually dining with her he didn’t seem as captivated by her as she was by him. She knew what had to be done though, it had been a long time since she yearned for a man’s attention in this way and she wasn’t about to let a little disinterest stop her from getting what she wanted.
There was much to prepare. She had very little time until the moon was at its most powerful, but between now and then she must collect a little of his essence to bring them together, before collecting her own treasure from its place of storage.