Missing Parts

I’m a particular lover of good drama on TV. I mean shows with high production, strong story lines, and as far as possible from reality TV. I’m interested in reality and in TV, but not together.

I love when I go out with friends and I end up in this close conversation with a few (not many) friends and we go into intimate details of anything in their lives, how someone likes to cook naked, how they woke their partner up with a fart, how they felt when they conquered a new job.

And, as I said, I love a good TV show, well produced and designed. When I’m watching I often think of my own life and that — with today’s social realities — I have been missing “the conquest”. With more and more online dating these days, it has been rarer that you meet someone in your circle of people you know and things develop from there.

I have been sighing every time on TV, one character bumps into someone on the street and they have ‘the spark’. I’ve been missing the spark, the slow development of something, the falling for someone, the distraction and actions.

Then, something changes. Someone in one of my circles… something changes in their life and we see each other. Now I feel the flutter in my belly all day and the looks and smiles, and it is exactly what I had been desiring.

The funny part is that, from the first time I met this man, I have this image of him on my bed. The scene is very clear in my mind, I can smell the sex and feel the heat in the air. He is on a diagonal, naked, belly up, looking at me behind him, so he has his head bent back and is looking at me upside down. He is saying he can’t move a muscle.

Have I seen the future? Or have I been driving things to this conclusion… but I had no control over his previous situation, so no. Will it ever really happen?

The Shift

This isn’t my house and this isn’t my bed, more importantly, this isn’t my cat. I’m on vacations at a friend’s farm, she is away for a couple of days and I’m minding her cat.

One afternoon it is raining heavily, the day feels like night and the green dark shadows dance inside my room. I lie down for a nap, my hands over my breasts. The sound of the rain lulls me into a deep sleep and I imagine the cat coming and keeping me company. Not long after reality follows my imagination, as if I had called him, the cat walks over the cover and my body and presses his head on my hands until I start caressing him.

He is fluffy and soft, and I don’t really wake up, his purring sends me deeper into the underworld for an undetermined amount of time. I move to my side and the cat slides down onto the bed in between my arms. He moves and walks into the covers pressing his fur against my naked chest, his head comes out of the covers. Then I’m flying in my dreams, I’m flying and it is raining and I’m free and strong and something against my skin starts to change.

He is growing and his hair is getting shorter… and suddenly I have a different form in my arms. The back is hairless, the size is bigger than me, and it smells human. The Cat… He stays there for a long time, still purring. The sound doesn’t change.

His skin is as soft as his fur was, velvety and toned under the layer of skin. My hands explore this new body, my nose dives into the hair, the head hair which is as abundant as the cat’s. His hair retains a trace of the fresh feline smell.

His body starts moving and he slides down, under the covers, moving until his head is between my legs. His hands caress my legs and guide them to open to give him access. He still has a cat’s tongue and licking is a strong skill, he licks me into oblivion, into ecstasy and beyond, in a pure, unbid pleasure. While I’m still shaking he moves up gliding up, with his  tongue on my belly and breasts, on my throat, and his head appears from under the covers. He steals my breath with his leonine beauty, a human face with catty eyes that keep me enthralled as he enters me.

We achieve that point where in and out is an exquisite sensation, every inch of the way. He growls softly while moving in a slow rhythm that builds with an almost imperceptible acceleration. Only when he is plodding into me I notice that the movement is no longer slow.

He lowers himself down and bites my neck as he comes. I hold him tight against me, the movement slowing down again. It never really stops. It just becomes very leisured…

In an instant he moves out of me and turns me around, on my fours and enters me from behind. Now more forceful and energetic. He licks my back and I can see his hands beside mine on the bed. I try looking at him and he lowers his face pressing it against mine until I look down again, he moves his mouth behind my neck and open his mouth as if about to bite but just resting his sharp teeth against my skin. I feel I shouldn’t move my head and just enjoy the feeling of his power, I close my eyes.

Then I feel he is getting bigger inside of me, and bigger. His teeth seem to become sharper against my neck. The sensation is building inside of me like a tsunami until I can’t stop it anymore. It comes over me and I open my eyes, at the same time that I press my neck on his teeth I see his hands, no, his paws, large, tigers paws and I don’t know if I’m awake. If I could I would have stopped, but the orgasm is real, as real as anything I’ve ever experienced.

I wake up with the cat purring on my chest, over the covers, he wakes with me, walks over me, rest his little nose over mine and licks my lips, then goes away.

I get up and my muscles are all sore, my legs, in between, and my holes with that incomparable sensation of having been thoroughly pleasured, that no toy can really leave you with, I go to the mirror and see two pricks of blood on the back of my neck. I go in search of The Cat but all he has to say for himself is… meow.

The Cliff

I feel as if I’m at the edge of a cliff looking down, being held by a thread, there is a tempest and the sea is agitated and angry below. There is a chance I can fly, but can I?

The sensation is cliché-as, the fear of a possibility, the butterflies, the delicious anxious sensation that wants something to happen now. Something to happen soon. While the other part of me wants time to slow down, I want to enjoy the falling, the flying.

Not-knowing is as important as would having certainty be.

I admire your courage…

Erotica in Public

The beauty of the invention of the e-book is being able to read whatever you want, whenever and wherever you are. Reading erotica on the busy bus to work is particularly interesting.

I am weird, what I like writing, often, isn’t what I like reading. I have written an Erotica and I am now searching high and low for the successful books I can compare it to. Apparently, that is one of the points that can help to sell a book to an Agent.

This is a book I believe in, the first I see as ready to be sold. Because of it, I’m ending up reading about hot, sometimes disturbing, sometimes arousing, scenes on the bus, before nine in the morning.

It is a strange sensation, feeling your cheeks flushing, trying to stop reading, wondering if you are going to miss your stop, getting wet but hating that you are, attempting to decide, if you were the character, where you would draw a line…

The Consequences of Writing Erotica

Self-pleasure.

I have written an Erotica, not an erotic romance, not Mills & Boon, it’s an Erotica verging on Porn.

It is not only a stretch of the well-behaved woman, it breaks through the limits.

I’m going over the brilliant work that my freelance editor did for me, proofreading and editing my writing.

I cannot believe it still arouses me.

It happened before when I wrote an erotic short piece and then, I didn’t want to see it again, kind of ashamed of it, with a weird reluctance to see what I had created.

Maybe I’m more mature now, more comfortable with my fantasies and sexuality, more aware of my pleasure.

Not only I’m happy to see it again, it affects me as badly as when I first imagined it.

My poor toys are getting a lot of work!