Dawn Copperpot comes out to the creek by the Sunset Corral for only one reason. Well, two—to be by herself, and to masturbate.
After a long morning of mucking out stables, Dawn needs the me-time. Armed with a shotgun, a couple of sex toys, and her imagination; she waits for the sunrise to have the perfect orgasm. But her imagination leads her to the memory of Nate Ramsey, the one who got away.
Until a nearby twig snaps.
If you enjoy sweet, contemporary Western-inspired erotica, be sure to read Dawn at the Sunset Corral. Continue reading “Humpday Story: Dawn at the Sunset Corral”
I learned the craft of fiction writing by doing two things—tons of dedicated study and even more practice. I took classes, read how-to guides, and studied books I enjoyed reading. But it wasn’t until I dived into erotic writing that I got in the massive hours of practice. Erotica was a great excuse to not care what I wrote while practicing the craft. Erotica was the gateway to stop taking myself seriously. Continue reading “The Ingredients of Erotic Storytelling”
The best part about going to a gourmet coffee house is not the five dollar cup. It’s the standing in line.
At least for me. I love people watching, and being close to people while I watch them is even better. And I like it even more when somebody watches me.
So I wear the shortest skirts. I push my boobs up and together, and wear skimpy shirts with the lowest possible cuts. I prefer knee-high boots, even out of season. I’m an attention whore, admittedly. Men are fun to tease, sometimes, because they’re cute when stupidly brave and get shut down so easily.
But I enjoy it more when the ladies notice me. They’re sneakier, like me, and like to observe from a distance. The women use their periphery vision more. But I’m good at noticing eye movement and body language. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: Mix Up at the Coffee House”
Rain marks the beginning of Charley Vaughn’s vacation. The kind of rain fit for an epic nap interrupted by coffee breaks. But no matter, Miami offers Charley endless fascination.
Magical fascination, as it turns out.
Talking dogs, alligators singing opera, and street magicians. And one sexy umbrella that purrs like like a kitten when opened.
One look upwards into the transparent blue plastic, and Charley finds herself walking on the clouds with a strange and alluring man. Soon enough, they do a lot more than just walking.
If you enjoy quirky and humorous erotic fantasy, be sure to read The Sexy Umbrella of Doom. Continue reading “Humpday Story: The Sexy Umbrella of Doom”
I grow my own vegetables on the side of my house. Cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots, zucchini. I can be a meat-and-potato man too. But I enjoy a wide variety of taste, and love cooking a lot of different foods.
That’s not the point of this story.
The point is, from my garden I have a great view of my neighbor’s living room window. Leigh keeps the drapes shut most days. And I’m not a peeping Tom, and she knows it. We’ve been neighbors for over a year, and regularly do small favors for each other.
At the height of summer, on the hottest days of the year, Leigh kept her living room drapes open. The gauzy curtains were still shut, but I could see her moving around inside, vacuuming. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: Watering Her Garden”
Date night. The perfect man. The perfect outfit. Terrible restaurant.
Candice just wants a fun night out with Brad. He holds doors open for her, touches her gently on the elbow, and pays for the dates. But at Abby’s Restaurant, where the tilapia tastes oddly like cod and wine is served in plastic cups, Candy longs for more with Brad. Much more?
What will it take? A little candy, some condoms, and the age old question: “Your place or mine?”
If you enjoy sexy humorous erotica, be sure to read The Life of Candy. Continue reading “Humpday Story: The Life of Candy”
I’ve always had a thing for bad boys, but never met one I’d sleep with. Just never felt safe around a true bad boy, to let him undress me and use me however he wanted. But that doesn’t kill the fantasy for me.
But when Daryl rode in on his motorcycle, leather clad and with rough facial hair that wasn’t quite a beard yet, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
I lived in the desert at the time, and it was a dusty late afternoon right before the sun went down. I washed the bookstore windows, for lack of better things to do. Not enough tourists in the middle of the week. To say I was surprised when a biker dude turned a wheelie and parked in front of me, was an understatement. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: A Biker in a Bookstore”