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I’m a writer. For money I mostly write about things like water distribution rights, health policy, social housing and other things for organisations who pay me for the research and writing work.

This is what happens to starving writers. Thomas Chatterton, dying in his garret. The model, oddly enough, is George Meredith, who was also a starving poet when he posed for this.
You don’t want me to die in a garret, in my snazzy blue pants, do you?

But I’d like to complete the shift to being a purely creative writer, who makes a living by selling stories I want to tell.

I’ve written a non-fiction book on bdsm, and two novels. I’ve put off the actual selling part of the writer’s job, because although I’ve sold many other products for paying customers, self-promotion doesn’t come naturally to me.

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I know that about 2,300 people visit my blog each week. The value of subscribing, for you, is that you get notified by email of my posts as they come out. I post four times a week, and the posts tend to tell stories, sometimes sexy, sometimes funny, sometimes both. I also write occasional information and opinion pieces, though mostly I’m a story-teller.

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Elust 103

Photo courtesy of Tits and Test Tubes

Welcome to Elust 103

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 #104 Start with the rules, come back March 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

The Friend and The Acquaintance

The dress rehearsal

Lake Malawi

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Color Me Kinky

A Slow Burn on a Summer Night.

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Voodoo Me

Cervical Orgasms: the deep erogenous zones

Erotic Fiction

Snow Day
Bad Dream
Heaven is a Place on Earth
Fucking Women
Laura’s Christmas
The Scent of a Woman
More than Friends: A Night Out
Eloise ~ Part one ~ Under my skin
Helios

Erotic Non-Fiction

Pain is confusing
I Don’t Want You to Hurt Me
Chemistry
There’s Many a Slip Twixt…
First Experience
Mixed bag/into my own eyes
Swinging 1
Lust and Will
Hot sunshine

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Mortified
Stop Worrying and Learn to Love Fellatio
I come from sexual assault
A life in three tweets

Poetry

-02.02.18_00:18-
The Four In the Morning Fuck

Blogging

Why Do I Blog?

Writing About Writing

10 Things I Will NEVER Write About

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie kisses Lucy!

Note

Last week’s episode, and a quick summary of events to date, can be read here. 

Maddie kisses Lucy!

Lucy stood behind me while I took the key from my blazer pocket and opened the little door in the back of the school library. Luckily it was a nice day, and there wasn’t a single person in amongst the books. So I didn’t have to come up with any stories. About why we were there. 

I pushed the door open and stood back, waving Lucy in. She hesitated, and then turned to face me, so she could step sideways into the little room beyond the library. Her smile flickered like a streetsign in an old film, not quite on and not quite off. I followed her quickly and locked the door behind us.

It helped that Lucy was a bit shorter than me. I’d always been the short one, when I got kissed, especially when it was Sir, but I knew what to do. So I stepped to press my body against Lucy’s.

She was so soft, and her breasts were so wonderful: she made me think of motherhood and ripe fruit. There was something so hot about her.

Not just sexy but somehow life-giving. She opened her mouth and licked her lower lip, so I kissed her. It had to be. 

I felt her slide her hands up my sides to hold me by my shoulders. My head felt like it was spinning. Everything was too wonderful and too heady to be real, and yet it was happening. I slid my hands down from her shoulders, and lifted her little skirt at the back. I put my hands on her bottom, through her panties. Lucy leaned into me at that, her head snuggling onto the side of my left breast. 

I smacked her bottom, not hard, not as hard as I wanted to. But I wanted to let her know that I could smack her bottom, from now on. If she took it now, she’d take many more. From now on. I said, “I’ve never spanked a girl before.” 

Lucy looked at me. “I’ve seen you get the cane. Naked. You didn’t seem to mind. Doesn’t it hurt?” 

“Kind of. It’s hard to say. It hurts, but when it’s the right person, and you want them, it feels like… Oh, it feels like a sexy, loving touch. And it still hurts, but I kind of like that too. Anyway, you’re going to find out for yourself this evening, after school.”

Lucy looked sulky. I loved what that did to her mouth. It turned down at both sides, but didn’t thin the lips. I kissed her again, because I couldn’t stop myself, then drew back. She said, “You did that. That’s your fault. I’m going to strip naked, and get twelve strokes across my bottom.” 

“Sir’s going to love it. Caning you, I mean, darling. You’re so beautiful, little Lucy.”

“Nnnnh.” She snuggled closer into my breast. I held her tight. She was so precious.

“I bet he’s going to take his time. And he won’t be too hard on you. Because you’re so beautiful, and you don’t spoil beauty. And I’m going to love watching you get the cane. And… like I said, you’re going to get a surprise. Yes, it’ll hurt, but” – I slid my hand under her underpants and stroked her bare bottom – “you’ll find out. You’ll be so hot afterwards. I mean, the good hot.” 

Something happened. Lucy got heavier in my arms. I think her knees gave for a second. So we pressed together, and I pulled her panties down to her thighs, at the back, and rubbed and patted her bottom. She felt so wonderful. I learned, I think, why Sir liked my ass so much. I wondered if I dared stroke her pussy next. 

Lucy set her feet a little further apart. It was as if she’d heard me. She kissed the side of my breast. Her mouth was so soft.

She was so sweet. 

Masturbation Monday: Swinging 2

Note 

This is the second part of a Masturbation Monday story about seduction in a children’s playground, after midnight. Episode 1 is here

Swinging 2

When you’re pushing a girl on a swing, and she’s wearing only a little pair of shorts and a pair of sandals, it can be hard to decide where to put your hands. So for the first few pushes, I pushed Stephanie with my hands just under her shoulders, so she could fly to the furthest extent the arc allowed. it was effective, and chaste. 

But chasteness wasn’t the goal, so the fourth time she came back I stood a little further so I could catch her suspended about half way up the backswing, and bite her neck and kiss her while she laughed. Then I’d send her flying again. After that, I caught her by the shorts, and pushed her by her perfect arse. 

And then, finally, I wasn’t so much pushing her at all. I just smacked her ass each time it flew back into my grasp. She was beautiful, flying, long straight blonde hair streaming, small breasts cold and tight; she was a valkyrie. Eventually she let the swing rest, with her feet touching the ground and her head back and turned so we could kiss properly. Her nipples were stiff, red and hard in excitement and the cold.  

Eventually we broke, and I helped Stephanie out of the swing. She said, “Slide! Slide!”

So I stood in front of her, holding her facing me, close. I put my hand inside her shorts and squeezed bare skin. Stephanie sighed. She slipped her hands down the back of my underpants, and enjoyed my penile reaction to that, body tight to to body.

Eventually I remembered speech, and said, “Slide. Sure. You go first.”

“You just want to watch me climb the ladder.”

“I do. I will.” 

“It’ll be so cold. The slide metal, under my ass.”

“Actually, it won’t. I promise.”

“You’re going to do magic?”

I smiled, like I hoped a mage might smile, and smacked her ass to keep it warm. And show my appreciation. Then we kissed some more because the night really was cold around us, and yet we were so warm for each other, a little sexual micro-climate. And I smacked her perfectly rounded, perfectly pretty bottom again, and walked her to the ladder leading up to the slide. 

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. This felt too good, and too promising. “Climb, Stephanie.” 

“Oh. So you’re giving me orders now?” 

“But good orders. Only the good ones. Climb.” 

Stephanie put one foot one of the lowest step of the ladder. She cocked her hip, and waggled her arse. “Like this?” 

“Oh my god, Stephanie. Fuck.” I kissed her shoulder. “I’d say that would be the exact way. Climb!”

Stephanie climbed. I watched her, adoring and wanting. Hard.  

 

 

Sinful Sunday: Emotion and tranquillity

Wordsworth once said that poetry is emotion reflected on, during tranquillity. So this is poetry: Everything was movement and heat, barely controlled and pleasurable chaos, just minutes before. 

Now, there’s a long moment of peace. She is still, and her mind is still. Her body is warm, and her mind is cool. No thoughts, just body-memories.

Tranquility.

Serving and servicing 1

John swung the stick, making an audible impact and leaving a vertical fire-line down her left buttock. Lena shook for a second, though she felt it as heat rather than pain, and arched her back. He was right: she felt very beggy. The rod struck again, leaving a streak of fire where it landed, which slowly calmed to warmth and a kind of mental and bodily peace.    

“You know, you have no idea how beautiful you look. And hot.” This wasn’t quite true. She knew she’d made him hard, and that he liked her current posture, prostrated on her knees, with her head touching the carpet between his feet, beyond reason. She waited for the next stroke, but he grasped her hair and pulled her up so her open mouth was level with his cock. Lena rubbed her forehead against that hardness, through his pants, like a cat claiming a human’s hand. He put his hand against the back of her head and held her to him. She waited, and the rod landed again, then again. Lena hissed in breath, then turned to kiss his inner thigh. 

With that kiss, some things became urgent. John unbuckled and unzipped. His cock, finally free, pronged the air in the direction of Lena’s nose. She felt his grip tighten on her hair, and he guided her onto his cock. Her lips kissed a soft ring around the head, and he pressed forward. They said, “Hahh,” at more or less the same instant.

Her buttocks and hips burned from the stripes he’d given her. The rod he’d used to inflict them brushed her right shoulder when she took him deep, brushing her nipples against the wool of his pants. She knew that he was happy, and so was she: his cock was velvet stretched over steel, and though it tasted only of skin, it was his skin.

She was sure, though, that she could feel some of the sugared, shaky excitement of his pleasure, through a kind of body reading that comes close to mindreading. She could feel the pleasure that he felt, as well as the heat and joy that came with serving.

She knew she was providing a soft paradise for his cock. He was moving faster in her mouth, loosening his grip on her hair so she had room to move. Her knees hurt a little, and that was good too. She loved serving him, but there was another Lena in her mind, who watched her and considered her, and was excited by the abjectness of her submission. She wished he would bring that rod down again. He was distracted.

Wicked Wednesday: The return of Maddie!

Maddie’s been waiting in the wings, biting her tongue, for seven weeks now, while I told a different story, that Didn’t Have Her In It!

But she’s a girl who gets what she wants, and she’s back. 

The background to this story is that Maddie’s lying in the storeroom, in warm afterfuck with her employer, the headmaster of the school where she works. And she’s telling him about her own adventures when she was at school. She wants her story to encourage him to look after a girl, Jennifer Perch. He’s disciplined Jennifer, and it’s clear to Maddie that Jennifer wants her headmaster, and that she should get him. 

Those thighs

In the story Maddie’s been telling, she’d just been caned, naked, in her own headmaster’s office. She’d got her twelve strokes while held down between the deliciously plump thighs of a new girl, Lucy. And Maddie had discovered that she’s capable of lust and maybe love for a girl. 

And that afternoon, both Lucy and Maddie are due back in the headmaster’s office to be caned, for the first time in her life in Lucy’s case, and for the second time that day in Maddie’s case. 

And afterwards, the headmaster and Maddie are going to to the headmaster’s house together. They’re certainly going to have sex. Probably they’re going to make love. 

But there’s just one thing. The headmaster has said he wants to devote that evening to Maddie. But Maddie wants Lucy to be there. With the help of a superior blow-job she gets the headmaster’s permission to invite Lucy to come along, though he says he’s not going to do anything sexual with Lucy on Maddie’s night. 

Phew! So you’re up to date! Now read on… 

Maddie’s story

So I made sure that Lucy and I had lunch together. Lucy was a little embarrassed to be speaking with me, at first. That morning, well, I’d watched her get her bottom spanked, and then, when she was holding me down for my caning I’d deliberately got up so that Lucy was going to get punished too, this afternoon. 

Maddie was finding it difficult to focus on food

But there was something about Lucy: something about the two of us. I wanted her, and she was waking up something in me that I never expected to find. I wanted to rule her, hard, stripe her, make her cry, make her serve me, like my Sir did to me.

And then make her come, over and over, helplessly. Like my Sir did for me too. 

And I don’t know how much of that she knew, or how much of it she wanted, but I could see she felt at least some of it. It was in her eyes. And when we ate together she kept finding reasons to touch me. Safe touches, in public, on my wrist, my shoulder. Once on my waist. But we had to be careful. We didn’t want to be gossip. 

So I told her to put her hands flat on the table. And she did. She sat quietly, listening while I explained what was happening between Sir and me. I’d been raped by some creep, when I lost my virginity, which I’d wanted Sir to have. And tonight, after he’d caned both us, he was going to take me back to his home, where he’d looked after after I was raped, and he was going to show me what loving sex was like. 

We were neither of us looking at each other while I told her this. There was silence. I looked at Lucy at last. She was blushing so brightly. But her eyes, and her dimples told me she was ok. “And,” I said, “I’d like you to be with me.”

“What? At the headmaster’s? While he fucks you?”

Some problems are easily fixed

“Yes. He’s not going to do anything to you. It’s me who wants you to be there. As my… moral support.”

Lucy stared at me. “Moral support, it’d be, would it?”

Immoral support. Anyway, I’d love it if you were with me.”

“Do I have to watch? I mean, his arse pumping up and down? And, god, whatever?”

“Lucy. I’m thinking it’ll be more romantic than that. And if you don’t like his ass, I could always drape a sheet over us.” 

“I suppose.”

“Or I could be on top, and you can watch my ass instead. Would you like that?” 

Just like that!

“Um?” She dropped her head again. 

“Yes. Yes, you will.” 

“You said he’s not going to do anything to me. Will you?” 

There’s a little room at the back of the school library. I had the key. It’s one of the advantages of being a good girl. By reputation.

 I said, “Come on. We’re going for a walk. You. With me. Now.” 

Lucy stood. My cunt just wrenched, clenched, so hard when she obeyed me. Maybe she’d be my good girl. Oh, drenched. 

 

Masturbation Monday: Swinging 1

Stephanie had been sitting in my lap for most of my party. That was complicated, in some ways. We’d been friends while I was with my last girlfriend, and we’d flirted but always safely, because I was committed. But I wasn’t committed any more, and the flirtation wasn’t safe, and we both knew it. We kissed, and the kisses weren’t the friendly kind; they had promise and exploration.

I had my hand under her shirt on her warm belly, kind of indecisively wandering sometimes closer to her cunt and sometimes towards her breasts. I hadn’t made contact or a choice yet, but she knew that I was teasing her, and I was getting smiles for that.

Our position was also complicated because I had a new girlfriend, Maires, and she was at my party too. But Maires also fancied Stephanie (she called her “Stiffener”, knowing the effect she had on me), and because Stephanie was very straight, Maires figured that her best chance was for me to fuck Stephanie first, and then for us bring Maires into bed later.

With negotiation, by Stephanie’s invitation, or it wouldn’t happen. So I had Maires’s blessing for my campaign to get Stephanie’s clothes off and her body into my bed, if I could manage it. She, Maires, could amuse herself with the other party guests in the meantime.

But Stephanie’s and my kisses were getting more intense. She’d twisted her body so she was facing me. Her nipples pressed against my shirt, and she arched her back to press tighter. We paused, eyes closed, and rocked together. I looked at her, and she opened her eyes too. “I really want to fuck you.”

She said, “Can we talk?”

“Of course. My room?”

“Hah. There are people in your room. I’m not ready to throw them out yet, just so you can have your-“

“Wicked way?”

“I hope it’s wicked.”

That was all I needed. I took her hand and helped her up. “We’re going for a walk. Now. It’s a lovely night outside. Moon. Shadows. Kid’s playground across the road.”

“All right.”

So we walked off, Stephanie leading the way, so I could admire her walk in little shorts, cut slightly above the crease of her ass and thighs. Maires was dancing with a guy who’d painted his face red and blue, but she caught my eye, and made an “ok” hand gesture.

It was warm out. I kissed Stephanie, but we’d already been doing that. There was a danger of awkward silence. So I put my hands on her ass, and we pressed together properly. I’d had an erection from about the moment she’d dropped her ass into my lap and we’d had our first kiss. But we’d ignored it. Now it pushed against her lower belly, and I held her tight against me, and it. She sighed. A good sigh. I’d declared myself in every way. Now we had privacy there was no way to not acknowledge our sexual intentions and desires.

So we talked about the things we had to talk about. I had Maires’s permission for my current disgraceful behaviour. Stephanie knew that Maires wanted her as well. And she’d never been with a girl, but she liked Maires. She also wanted to know: was I going to fall in love with her, Stephanie, if she came to bed? I said I probably wouldn’t; at least we should start with friendship and fucks.

She wanted me to wait until the party had emptied a bit before she came to bed. Even by the standards of this provincial university town in a cold climate, where students sometimes fucked simply to save on heating costs, Maires and I were pushing the envelope a little. There’d be gossip, and Stephanie wanted deniability.

I nodded. “Ok. It’s after midnight. Give it another half an hour. Then we’ll come back, I’ll put on early Yoko Ono and everyone will say, oh that’s really cool! And then they’ll leave, fast as they can. I don’t think she broke up the Beatles, but she sure can break up a party. Then we can fuck in bed and comfort. And if Maires hasn’t scored with the red and blue guy, she’ll come in later.”

“How will that be?”

“Wonderful! Oh, I see. It’ll be cuddly. It’ll be kissy. It’ll be all warm bodies rolling round. Me wishing I could have my cock in both of you at once. And what you do then is up to you. I know she’d like – Well, she’s good at cunnilingus. And she likes it a lot. I mean, giving.”

“Oh yeah. Do you know how many boys have told me that about their girlfriends?”

“God. Is that a thing, is it?”

“No. The answer is: none at all. Ever. No one has ever said that to me. I’ve never met a guy who’d think he had information to go on, to judge that.”

“Um.” Maires and I had actually met in a threesome.

Stephanie had her eyebrows up. “Or would talk about it if they could. It’s the gossip thing. You two could be forgetting how weird you are.”

“Good weird.”

“I’ll believe it for now. So what do we do for half an hour?”

“We play a game. Simon says.”

“Hmm. Dangerous. But it figures. Ok.”

“Good. I’m Simon. Lift your hands up. And keep still.”

“Hmm.” But she did as she was told.

She wore a white blouse of rough cotton. It was cold out, but it was beautiful and we were turned on. Magic was the warmth. She watched me, gravely, while I undid her buttons and took the shirt off, over her arms.  

“Ok. Can I be Simon now?” 

“No. There’s only one Simon. But you can tell me what you want.”  

“Then, take your jeans off. We’re going to the playground. I’m going to be topless. You can keep your underpants on.”

“Um.” It’s always interesting, when you think you’re leading, and you get leapfrogged.

So I dropped my jeans, and stuffed them into the mailbox. It was cold, and it didn’t matter at all. I dropped Stephanie’s shirt in there too, trying to keep it relatively uncreased. And I got her bra off before we passed the gate, so it went in there too. 

So we raced across the road, looking frankly stupid, with my cock waggling about, not entirely contained in underpants. But we felt sure that no-one else was going to be watching the neighbourhood at that hour and climate. 

So at the playground Stephanie plonked herself on one of the swings and demanded pushes. She got them. 

 

 

 

Note

I just can’t do short short stories. I tried. Sorry. But I hope you’re enjoying yourself so far. And it gets more climactic this time next week.