Thoughts on years of blogging.

When I first started this blog, way back in mid-December 2008, it was because I figured I needed some sort of place to hang my virtual-hat as I ventured into the world of erotica. I'd started entering Alison Tyler's short short story contests, and other folks seemed to have a home base, so I would too!

At first I was pretty sure I was just talking to myself. And I was okay with that. I didn't get any comments that December. But I was venturing out and commenting on other blogs and thought "well, at some point someone will follow me home." That sounds kinda creepy, doesn't it? LOL.

I did my first post of 2009 on Jan. 5. That day I'd sent off my first erotica submission, a story I'd written many years before. But I got 2 comments from other erotica author/bloggers. The very first one was from Jeremy Edwards. That's cool, because I couldn't remember who had first commented on my blog (I went looking as I started this post), and now Jeremy is someone who, with his lovely wife Helia Brookes, are real world friends. As are many of the friends I've made through the virtual world of erotica blogs.

The other comment was from EllaRegina, whose entry in that first contest, spurred my entrance. I did get to meet her IRL, but she's been scarce these days. I hope she is well.

That year, 2009, was my most prolific year blogging, with 233 posts. I was drawn out of my shell, and that was the year I befriended artist Randy Lagana, whose work I was familiar with from a project that had been abandoned about four or five years before. I wanted to use some of his photography, etc. to illustrate my blog. I've never been one much for grabbing things off the web. I take/took a lot of my own photographs and if I used somebody else's work, I asked first. For the most part. That's just how I am.

I did an interview series with Randy, in three parts: 1, 2, 3. I should probably go back and read them. It's been awhile since I have. I had coffee with Randy this morning. We're now working together on the revival of that long-ago abandoned project, a poetry and photography journal: Stark. Randy has been taking nude photos of the poets that are included in the collection, some of them from the original selection of poets, some new. I'm one of the original ones, and I've not had my photo shoot yet. Soon.

He met me when I was new at all this, and full of enthusiasm and tentativeness. Now, not many people read this blog. I don't post often, and I'm sure those two things are interrelated. This post is an attempt to correct that. I started off blogging despite having no readers. In a way that gave me the freedom to write whatever I felt like.

Think I'm gonna try that again.

Going "Adult Content"

Yeah, I've decided to go with Blogger's "Adult Content" warning page, despite my not liking the idea, because of what I read here (about Google + and Google's NSFW issues). I am wanting my Erobintica blog to loosen up a bit, and I realized that fear of being shut out of here has kept me from doing that. Hence, not many posts of late.

So, yeah, I'm sorta pissed at myself for capitulating. I remember back when Alison Tyler had her blog reported and she put up the warning page and a bunch of other erotica folks did the same. At the time I wasn't being very daring in my blog, so I stayed open. But we seem to be going through another period of sexual hysteria (Emerald has a good Recommended Reading post on it here), and since I want to promote some stuff (announcement coming), without having to censor myself, I'm going to go behind the Content Warning door.

Glowing Pink

It's been ages since I entered one of Alison Tyler's writing contests.  But recently I was inspired, submitted one and got 2nd place!   The picture here is the only thing I had in my files that came close to the color I wanted.  (added) Oh, but look what I found! This would have been perfect!

Rose Comes for Dessert

The table is set. Candles lit. Vases full of roses, palest pink to deepest crimson, arranged just so. Champagne chilled. I wait.

When she arrives I take her coat without a word. I take her shoes, tight black skirt, shear blouse, and lacy pink underthings. The room is warm, but her nipples go from bloom to bud, and I smile. I pop the cork, pour, offer her a glass. Watch as her lips sip the golden liquid. I let her finish, then reach for the silken cords as she sits on the table.

I deftly wrap her proffered body till she is immobilized, bound into a position that presents me with the perfect dish. I pull up a chair, tuck a crisp white napkin into my collar, pour a glass, drink, and allow my eyes to savor the glowing, pink tart before me.

As I lean closer, my exhalations warm on her moist flesh, I hear her breathing quicken. Lightly I bring my lips to her glistening ones, and feel her quiver.  The tip of my tongue traces her folds, and when it meets her swollen clit, I know her body would press itself to my face if she could. But she cannot, and I intensify my efforts until she is vibrating with constrained passion. Forgetting my manners, I finish off dessert with my fingers, then offer to share the last drippings with Rose. 

Takes one to know one

This morning was fun. I opened my email to find a Trollop. Actually, it was "the fucking word of the day," which I get emailed to me daily - you can sign up at the site. So, I let everyone's favorite Trollop with a Laptop, Alison Tyler, know about it. And that reminded me of this lovely temporary tattoo that I adorned myself briefly with last summer. Yes, that's me in the picture - what? don't recognize me? hahahaha! Yeah, that's the way my mind works.

Somewhere around here I have a Harlot temporary tattoo also, but it got misplaced. Maybe when I eventually clean my desk. Don't hold your breath.

Oh, and speaking of Trollop-related stuff, I entered Alison's latest contest, so head over there and vote for your favorite!

Mangled, tangled thoughts

I'm wearing this necklace below, that I won from a contest that Alison and  Tiffanie at Metal Taboo ran over at the Trollop Salon. It's sort of become my talisman.



Life is crazy these days - in good and bad ways - but even the bad ways may turn out to be good. Do you know what I mean? When you're in a situation that from most angles looks to be one of the worst you could ever lay eyes on? But could also be one of the best? I'm in the middle of that right now. The most frustrating thing is I want to sit down and write about all this - but I don't have the fucking time!

I'm in the thick of a busy weekend where my Erobintica life merges and overlaps and soaks into (sorta like wine spilled on a favored tablecloth) my "other" writing life. I've organized a reading by Stephen Elliott and he's going to be here tomorrow, literally HERE, staying overnight at my house so I can drive him to his next gig in upstate NY on Saturday. So, I'm trying to figure out all the things I need to get ready for that (remember to clean the damn bathroom and the cat litter boxes), get some food, deal with some stupid shit (I promise I won't go on and on about idiot asshole landlords), and be all ready to go into NYC in the morning to meet a friend and then meet Stephen at Grand Central Station and head back here.

And how did all this come to pass? From long ago (well, not THAT long ago) over at Alison Tyler's blog where I read this post (well, damn, can't get a direct link - it's the Dec. 24 2008 posting Stuffing My Stockings) - and I followed it to The Rumpus. And fell in love with The Rumpus. And gradually came to read more of Stephen's writings - some for the first time, some again, like those in some erotica collections I have. Then I signed up to take a class from him in NYC, Writing From Experience. I wrote about that here. Then I read an advance copy of his latest book, The Adderall Diaries as part of "the lending library." I posted about that here. Then I responded to his query of those folks to host readings. And now it's happening. Right at a time when a bunch of other shit is happening in my life. Much of it my the result of my own doings. But I don't regret anything, because it has all gotten me to where I am  now and it's getting me to where I'm going (which I have no fucking clue where that is).

I know this post probably makes no sense. But I don't care. I'll post a lot more after the weekend.

Better late than never

There's a pile of reviews that I've neglected over the past few months - real life can be a bit distracting. But I'm finally getting to them (in some cases I have to reread because being a woman of a certain age, I forget stuff). I posted one on Amazon for Alison Tyler's "Pleasure Bound" and she posted it on her blog today. So I'm linking to that. Yes, this is a lazy post, hahaha. I'll have a proper post up later.

Because I'm distracted

by real life right now (it's all good) - and I haven't been able to focus all that well on my blog, I thought I'd just post some rather hot links.

BadAssKona and Gina Marie have an amazing lesson series going on.

Human Sexuality 101: The Tongue and the Clit - at We Came, We Saw, We Came

Human Sexuality 101 Continued: The Lip and the Cock - at Aphrodite's Table

I know it's not Monday anymore, but Janine Ashbless had a particularly hot Eyecandy Monday this week.

Danielle de Santiago has some great Green Porno (with Isabella Rosselinni as a praying mantis).

P.S. Haven's doing the nose art thing.

And I know this was from last Friday, but Alison Tyler's most recent Fetish Friday was a good one.

I wish I was in California.

Awhile back I went on a Stephen Elliott bender. I just watched this again and in case you haven't seen it, I figured I'd embed it (I love the word embed, hahaha).

Perversion

Hehe. Now that I have your attention...

According to my dictionary widget:

perversion (not gonna type the pronunciation because I don't know how to make my letters do those things)

noun

-the alteration of something from it's original course, meaning, or state to a distortion or corruption of what was first intended

-sexual behavior or desire that is considered abnormal or unacceptable

Origin late Middle English: from Latin perversio(n-), from the verb pervertere - 'turn around'

(or another source says it means 'to corrupt').

I keep wishing I'd taken Latin.

From The Bald-Headed Hermit and the Artichoke - An Erotic Thesaurus, I found these euphemisms - though it's funny, pervert/perversion is not really a word that's generated a lot of them - maybe because the word itself is not one that is considered perverted.

abnormal, bent, creepy, crud, defective (just a wee bit judgmental?), degenerate, depraved, deviant, dirty, dissolute, freakish, fucked, gooner (?), grody, gross, grotesque, into a particular scene, into kink, into sick shit, kinky, marv (ha!), odd, off, otway (? ?), panty thief (hmmm, maybe Blogger is, for taking Alison's Panty Parade blog), peculiar, perv(y), pervie, pervo, prevert (always a favorite), queer, rotten, rough, secko, sick, sid, sinful, smarmy, strange, twisted, twisty, unhealthy, unnatural, viscious (think it's supposed to be vicious), warped, watson (I really wonder at the origin of this one), wicked

Personally, I don't think most of these fall under the definition of euphemism - other than maybe gooner, panty thief, or watson (I was not able to find an explanation of that one in a few minutes googling - now I'm really curious). Many of the words seem judgmental (I know, I know - many people are) - and I'm sure that the continuum has folks considered kinky by some thinking someone else is really into sick shit and that person thinks another is even more warped.

At the somewhat recent eroticist's dinner, it struck me that as "normal" as we all seemed, many many many people would consider us perverts. I think we'd all wear that badge with pride. Maybe it's because we've thought about it so much while writing that we're more sure of ourselves (in other words, we don't think we're unhealthy) and more aware of the great variations in what turns one on and pops one's cork (yeah, more euphemisms).

Guess we're all just twisted.

Behind a curtain

*(see below)

When I first started this blog, I put up the "Content Warning" page. I soon dropped that though. My reasons are myriad. I don't consider my "content" to be all that outrageous. And I honestly believe that people should be responsible for themselves when it comes to looking for imformation. Also, I wanted people to find my blog. At the time the warning page was known to stop the spiders. Supposedly that's been fixed. Those warning pages are like the entry pages to some websites - just a waste of time (especially the ones that make you wait through a seemingly endless animation). I use the internet to find information. And yeah, I'm an adult. And a parent. Speaking as a parent, if you don't want your kids "accidentally" finding something, it's your responsibility to police them. And yeah, kids are sneaky. But if they are, you have to ask yourself why. That's a whole other subject. *puts down on list to tackle*

But still. I have no control over what some person somewhere is doing. When you do a google search - or any other search for that matter - you get a little snip of what the results are. You can filter your searches too if you know you don't want to find "untoward" things. Needless to say, I don't filter my searches at all. But I did a little test. I clicked the safe search button and then typed in "erobintica." Usually (without filters) - my blog is the first result (duh, I'm the only erobintica out there) - but with the safe search, it was not. My amazon profile was. But my blog did not show up - a lot of other folks blogs did with links to mine. It's all so silly. *goes to undo safe search so I don't piss myself off*

It is up to you whether you click on something or not. And it's up to you what you search for. Nobody lands on my blog searching for "apple pie recipes" - at least not yet. ;-) Though now that I've typed in "apple pie recipes," maybe they will. *Waves*

I find it amusing to see what searches have brought folks to my blog. Personally, I think most of them are probably disappointed, since it's obvious from what they typed in that they were looking for porn. My Blow Hard Tour post still is landed on a lot. All those folks looking for dick sucking. Most recently someone typed in "euphemisms for sucking dick" and guess what? A portion of my post was a list of such words. So, they found what they were looking for. I think that's a good thing.

Personally, I don't like the warning page. I go through it when I'm going to a blog that I know is worth looking at. But ya know - they're scary. OMG, what horrible things lie beyond this curtain?

I don't know what is up - but it seems that now Alison Tyler (who's had her blog for how many years?), is behind the curtain. Here's her "official website." And some of her other blogs were taken down (makes me sad because one of them had a photo I'd sent her for it). Right now she doesn't need all this hassle. She's always posting her search strings. We know what folks are looking for when they find her blog. Hmm. Well, I was going to link to a particular post and I can't seem to.

Well, I need to go sweep floors and get some stuff done. For some reason, this whole thing pisses me off. I will be back to ponder it more.

I'm curious as to what other folks think about the content warning page - I know some of you use it and some don't.

* Photo by Randy Lagana.

First 1st!

So I've been entering Alison Tyler's flasher contests at her blog Trollop with a Laptop since December of last year. I've missed some, but not many. I don't know how many I've entered - all I do know is I have a shitpile of buttons from the contests and more. So many I've forgotten what some of them are for. These stories are fun to write and there are some I've really liked and others that well...

But I'd never had one of my stories take 1st place. Until this past week.

And there's a now funny story about it. I wrote it while sitting in my husband's truck on the side of the Mass Pike as he tried to fix a leak and salvage a weekend trip (for just us two) up to Maine. This truck has a lonnnnnnnnng history. Let's just leave it at that. So I wrote this in a notebook and typed it into Alison's blog comments on my husband's computer in the motel room up in Maine. Needless to say, things didn't happen quite this way...

Roadside Discipline

The state trooper just left, warning us that if we’re not gone next time he comes by we’ll have to be towed. Tommy’s under the car, oil all over his face. I’m sitting here, pissed. Another trip screwed over by his insistence we take one of his precious project cars. He’ll pay. Soon his smiling face pops up in my window.

“All fixed!”

I say nothing. Just glare at him.

“I’m sorry honey. That hose needed replacing but I hadn’t gotten to it. Good thing I had extra with me.”

“Yes, good thing.”

He goes back to gather up tools. I step out, look around. Traffic is thinning with the coming dark. Headlights cast shadows as I bend down and pick up a piece of hose. Just long enough, I think, flexing it.

Tommy comes around the side of the car, sees me with the hose and gets this look.

“Come here.” He does.

“Hold onto the mirror.” He does.

I take the hose and wrap it around his wrists and the mirror.

“I’m really sorry honey.”

“Shut up.”

He knows what’s in store. Maybe. I rummage in his tool box until I find something suitable. A rubber belt of some sort. I don’t know car parts. But it will do. Then I yank down his board shorts, exposing his ass. I kick his legs apart.

“What if the cop comes back?”

“Shut up.”

The belt thwaps across his ass. His yelps are drowned by passing trucks. It’s too dark to see his cheeks redden, but I’m wet and wanting to fuck him so bad I can taste it. I reach around and feel his hot rod.

Hissing in his ear I tell him “You better make me come in record time.”

Not long after, the trooper returns just as Tommy starts the car.

“Looks like you got her started just in time. I was about to call the wrecker.” He looks over at me. “ And Ma’am, you have the patience of a saint.”

I smile at the officer.

Being slutty again

Over at Trollop with a Laptop, Ms. Alison Tyler is dragging my name through the ... posts. Seems I am the proud winner of a most wonderful custom Metal Taboo necklace. Thank you Tiffanie for choosing Fuck Shame from the comments here. I promise to post a being-worn picture of it when it arrives. I am quite excited about this (honestly - you don't know how excited I am - it's like karma man). Then, as if that weren't enough, Alison posted this. I kinda got choked up. My first inclination was to not say anything here. Ya know - hide out. But I'm trying to walk the walk - the one about valuing what it is (writing) we do. I was actually (am still) worried that folks will think I sent it (the chapbook) to her just to get a plug. Which is silly. I'm usually more inclined to NOT do something, NOT say something for just that reason - fear. So, I'll shut up now and try to get back to writing something that is being difficult. It's called running off and hiding.

Oh, and you want something that'll make you smile? Here.

So where's the fucking erotica?

I've been posting lots of ... don't know what the hell I've been posting lately. But nothing sexy, that's for sure. Like I said, I'm in the summer doldrums. I just got a rejection notice - for poetry that I'd submitted months ago. Typical form letter - just plug my name in. And so I'm feeling kinda down - doesn't help that it's gray and rainy again. And yeah, I just published my own chapbook and did a reading, but rejection still sucks.

So I thought I'd post a few things - flashers that I'd done for Alison's contests. And yeah, I've fallen behind in posting these to the point where I don't know which ones came first and I know there's some missing, but what the hell. These are the ones I was happy with. I'm also trying some of the other fonts because I'm sick and tired of the one I was using. If anyone has a suggestion, I'm open. And then after I post these I think I'm going to make myself a pot of tea and do the post I've been avoiding.

The four flashers are in order: Impenetrable Night, Rewind, Unlaced, Unwashed Denim. Hmm. I wonder what's up with all the "un" things I do.

*****

Impenetrable Night

Headlights switch off, and we plunge into darkness. New moon. Overcast conceals any starlight. Far from the tiny town, and late, so most lights are off. Pitch-black and I can't see a damn thing. But I feel your hand on my thigh.

Our eyes try to adjust. The shrubs just dark shapes as we slowly make our way. We follow our noses towards the vaguely sulfurous pool. Our clothes come off and are piled together so we can find them later. The air is warm on our skin.

We don't speak. We enter the water as if by instinct. It's deep. We swim towards what we think is the middle. I stop and tread water silently, listening to the liquid lap against your skin as you circle me. Then silence as you dive.

Your hands clasp my ankles and pull. Underwater there is no up, no down. The darkness, the silence even more complete. You move against me, find my mouth and kiss. Your hands swim my body, find my spring.

The sound of our breath is thunder as we break the surface. I grab your cock and pull you towards shore. I kneel in the muck, take you into my mouth and taste the mineral tang clinging to your skin. Your hands on my shoulders turn me, press me forward, hands in the dry sand. You mount me in one swift move. Straining against each other we see stars against our eyelids. In the distance a coyote howls.

*****

Rewind

She types the name of an old lover, hits search on a networking site. None of the results are him. She does a general search, adds the last profession she was aware of. There, near the bottom of the results. She's sure it's him. Calls up the page. Finds his email address.

Rewind. She talks to a old friend, one who also knew him, but wasn't aware of the illicit relationship. Her friend laughs as she recounts stolen moments, reveals details never before admitted out loud. She wonders, what if they were to meet again? Now?

Rewind. She writes in a journal. Describes in lascivious detail all their encounters. Rubs against the chair as she remembers. Their bare skin together. Their mutual fantasy. His whispered suggestions in her ear.

Rewind. She buys a card and remembers one she got him. A large shiny red (heart) and lame you're the best lover ever inside. She'd slipped it under his door in a moment of wantoness. He'd smiled. Rewarded her later.

Rewind. She finds an old college notebook while cleaning the basement. From the class she took with him. She turns the pages, looking for evidence of his then overwhelming presence in her thoughts. Feels his lustful stare again. Hears his voice again.

Rewind. She finds a picture of her old car. The one they stood next to for half an hour talking, then kissing. The one they then steamed up the windows of.

Rewind. She meets him.

*****

Unlaced

Unfamiliar atmosphere. Flashing lights, pounding music. Bodies in motion, pressed against each other. Don't normally frequent places like this, but I'm here at your invitation, looking for you, hopefully not in vain.

When I see you, relief rushes through me like an orgasm. Even though your back is turned, I'd know that ass anywhere. Clad in skin-tight black leather, moving in time to the music, it's enough to take my breath away.

As I approach through the crowd, I notice your shirt. White lace, nothing underneath but tanned skin. Tight across the back to show shoulder blade, waist. Long sleeves cling to your shapely arms, ruffles drape your wrists. I want to kiss the pulse hidden there.

Your thick black hair sways with your body. I reach and push it aside, kiss your neck. You don't turn, but I hear your greeting deep in your throat. My finger traces your spine from collar to leather edge, feeling the glimpses of skin. You press your ass back at me. I reach my arms around you, find your nipples poking eagerly at the fine open fabric, pinch them.

This sends a jolt to my clit. My hands roam across your chest and find the lacing that carefully holds the shirt closed. Slowly I loosen the strings, letting fingers stray to hot skin. Lower and lower. I find your navel, slowly sink into that puckered hole. Lust gets the better of me. I grab at leather, find your cock hard.

*****

UnWashed Denim

Feet. Bare feet. Legs. In denim. Legs. More legs. Even more legs. Velvet. Sofa. Legs. Denim. Faded. Legs. Rumpled. Legs. Cut off. Bare legs. Rolled up. Legs. Arms. Skin. More skin. A shirt. Unbuttoned. Arms. Skin. Closed eyes. Bare feet. Ankle bracelet. Arms. Navel. Nipple. Hair. Short. Hair. Long. Arms. Hands. In hair. On back. Neck. Skin. Lips. Parted. Closed. Meeting. Skin. Denim. Undone. Soon. Skin. Fingers. On zippers. On skin. Lips. On denim. Wet. Hands. On skin. In denim. In. Around. Hard. Skin. Legs. Around. Under. Over. Lips. On navel. On navels. On nipple. On nipples. Around skin. Soft skin. Hard skin. Smooth. Denim coming off. Smooth. Legs. Around arms. Around lips. Pressed. Lips. Into. Legs. Together. Into. Skin. Wet. Around. In. Pressed in. Closed eyes. Tight. Pressed tight. Into. Fingers. Pressed into. Here. There. Here. Again. Hard. Hard skin. Pressed into. Here. There. Again. Wet. Skin. Again. Wet. Velvet. Again. Wet. Denim. Wet. Lips. Wet. In. Arms. Legs. Lips. Denim. In pile. On floor. Again.

Well, golly gee whiz

I got mail today. The kind that shows up in my mailbox a lot these days - buttons - from Alison Tyler. It was this mighty mouse button. But this one wasn't for a flasher contest or a comment or any of a number of other reasons for buttons from our lady of the etsy.

And I was thinking - wtf? I couldn't remember any mighty mouse themed anything (and isn't that against her rules?) - so I was blown away when I read the paper that came with it. And I'm only copying it here because I think ALISON is so awesome and not because I want to toot my own horn or whatever (now, now, get your minds out of the toilet and into the gutter where they belong).

She, Ms. Tyler, wrote:

" Thank you so much for supporting your fellow writers, Robin! You are fantastic! I totally appreciate how generous you are with your time and talent!

XXX,

Alison"

Then I promptly broke into tears. I'm not sure what it is I do. I guess that maybe I do what I'd like other people to do - there's that old fucking golden rule again - and writing has been so important to me, to my sanity at times, that anything I can do to keep writing (like this blog) is a good thing. And I DO want to encourage other writers, because I know how easily we can convince ourselves that what we do (write) is meaningless. And I also know how powerful discouragement can be - active or passive and maybe the passive is more odious and effective. I've been lucky though, I've had some wonderful teacher/mentors who have managed to counteract the negative. And I guess the last thing on this earth I want to be is be a force for negative.

So, anyhow - this button she sent is big - and I'm gonna put it on my canvas writing bag - to remind me of .... hmmm .... don't know - I'm starting to tear up again.

And of course I go looking up mighty mouse stuff and found this - and laughed at the final imagery (rocket anyone?) along with "the situation well in hand" (hahaha - I've got such a dirty mind)

Good Stuff

~It's stopped raining!

~I finished a story I want to sub last night.

~There's only three more days of school after today and then I won't have to get up at 6AM (I am not a morning person).

~I've got a writing group meeting tomorrow - been missing folks.

~There's some good stuff out in blogland - poetry at Sommer's and Craig's - plenty of pretty purple/violet/whatever at Alison's (ya must scroll through all the purple posts) - thoughtful posts & discussions at Donna's and Scarlett's - word talk at Janine's - and one hell of a fun quiz at P.S. Haven's (plugging your ass again Haven!).

~I'm putting together an interview that I did with Randy Lagana, whose artwork I've used in various posts. Hope to get it up this weekend.

~It's stopped raining!

~There's even a hint of sun!

~Mr. Erobintica gets home from business travels tomorrow afternoon!

~ I got buttons AND a Trollop temp tattoo in the mail!

That there picture is of one of Mr. Erobintica's famous sparkler bombs.

Guess I'm a Real Harlot Now

What a surprise this morning! Alison Tyler posted my story Into the Whirlpool on her new blog H is for Harlot.

One Sweet Flasher

Hey - I'm gonna try to catch up again with posting my entries to Alison Tyler's flasher contests. This one is from back in April. Got an "I [heart] Pie" button for this one I think. Hehe, I've lost track of contest themes and buttons. So many so many.

Silky Smooth Icing

She can’t help herself. Glancing around to make sure no one is looking, she reaches under her apron and gives her nipple a pinch. Presses her thighs together, aching for something to rub against.

The long glass case filled with elaborately decorated cakes separates her from them. Allows her to listen in while working. They come in twice a month to partake of the treats and sip coffee. To talk shop.

She’s been told they’re erotica authors. Eavesdrops on their conversations, littered with words that make her blush, make her sense the creaminess between her legs.

She works. Cake layers are prepared, laid out waiting. Two fillings. One is tart, thick lemon with flecks of zest. The other a blood-red raspberry, seeds strained out and sweetened just so.

She takes up her spatula, begins spreading the lemon first. The authors talk about sucking cock. She yearns to dip her finger in the filling, taste the sharp flavor, but doesn’t dare.

She spreads the raspberry filling, adds the last cake layer, presses down so the red oozes out gently. The authors talk. Bondage. Spankings. Sex toys. The usual.

As she prepares the glossy chocolate ganache that will cover the cake, she thinks of the baker in the back room, his apron dusty with flour, his hair held by a net. His aroma. Sweet, sweaty, earthy.

The authors will leave, she’ll pull the shades, lock the door, take off her apron. In the back, they’ll slice the cake, share it. Before.

On Fire - SpicySexySultry Songs, Stories, Sustenance and more

Welcome. So glad you could join us on this Spicy Summer Sunday. (I apologize to anyone who has trouble loading this - I went a bit happy with the embedding - also, I'm having a hell of a time with fonts - it must be because it's well after midnight). I've got lots of hot songs for you to watch, hot stories to go read, hot (and cold) food to salivate over, and plenty to discuss. Feel free to wander out into the garden to pick some strawberries to nibble on while feasting your eyes. And whenever you arrive, you're right on time!

And here is a not-blurred longer (9:15) video - fast forward to about 1:23 to get to the "good" part.

Grab a beverage - there's margaritas and sangria and plenty of Pacifico in the barrel of ice on the deck. Take a seat. Suddenly feeling a bit horny? Sorry, haha, couldn't resist! I was hoping to find tube socks printed with chili peppers to hand out to the guys, but had no luck. I did find these though! 

Oh, there's snacks set out - some of Trader Joe's Chili Spiced Dried Mango and ike & sam's kickin' cayenne kettlecorn. A Brooklyn friend turned me on to this highly addictive snack food which luckily I haven't seen in my local store (oh, they have other varieties, but not the spicy).

Today we're gonna get hot. With hot chili powder. Also sometimes spelled "chile" - I promise you I'm not going to go into a dissertation on the many varieties of chili peppers. If you want, you can go read about them here. Chili powder, a blend of spices, can be bought or mixed up in your kitchen. We (Mr. Erobintica & I) prefer the hot variety and our kids have grown up with that. Mild? Not around here. If you want to read an interesting piece - Sex and Chiles.

While the BBQ is heating up, how about some hot songs to get us in a summery mood. Here's some of my favorites, songs that get me hot - songs that I crank up when I go pseudo-topless (sunroof open and windows down). I'll embed a few, click on the links to view the others -

also, Sheryl Crow's Steve McQueen, vintage John Mellencamp with Hurts So Good, and of course ZZ Top's Gimme All Your Lovin'. And one more - Bruce Springsteen's I'm On Fire.

Ah, the food's just about ready. I love skewered foods, don't you? ;-)

Grilled Chili Chicken and Fruit Skewers

boneless chicken breasts, cut in 1 inch chunks
pineapple chunks
mango chunks
strawberries

grated rind of 2 limes
2 rounded tsp of hot chili powder
½ tsp sugar
½ tsp salt
tsp of ground Wrath

¼ cup olive oil
juice of the 2 limes
splash of triple sec


Mix together spice mixture. Mix olive oil mixture. Thread chicken chunks on skewers and fruit (alternating strawberries, mango and pineapple) on separate skewers. Brush all with the olive oil mixture. Heat BBQ. When ready, grill the skewers, turning the fruit carefully (may need to use 2 tongs since the fruit wants to slip off). Once skewers have been turned, sprinkle some of the spice mixture on them - more liberally on the chicken.
Carefully remove the fruit skewers to a plate once there are char marks and the strawberries are soft. Sprinkle with a little bit more spice mixture and leave to cool. Turn the chicken again and sprinkle the 2nd side with spices. Use all the spice mixture. When chicken is done, remove to a plate. Serve with a salad and warm, crusty bread. Instead of chicken you can try scallops or shrimp or even just veggies.

Now that I'm done cooking, I can join the conversation. Surprise surprise, this crowd is talking about erotica. Fancy that! ;-)  Always a juicy subject with us. I know we've talked about who we share our erotica with and last week Donna wondered how much we reveal or hide ourselves in our fiction, especially our sexuality. Pondering that discussion, I had a chicken or the egg question come into my head. As our writing evolves, do we find that our sexuality evolves? Writers are often counseled to "write what you know." But fiction writers often write what they don't know. Nobody really expects a murder mystery author to go out and off someone as "research."  But erotica is different. Yes, many of us like it because we can write about things that we'd never really do in real life. But I think most of us do explore subjects that we're drawn to (whether in actuality or fantasy). I've found that over the years (and yes, I've been writing erotica for many years, just not sharing it with anyone until recently), my writing has mirrored to some extent what my ... interests have been/are/will be. That comes as no surprise really. So, what comes first? The interest or the words?

Hope that's not too personal of a question. Come on, let's not be shy. ;-)

Okay before I get too wordy here, let's bring on the dessert and let the meltingly spicy richness of these truffles contrast nicely with the frozen smoothness of coconut and strawberry. Oh, and please, try some ice wine too. It was a lovely June evening a few years back when I was introduced to ice wine - luckily in blogland, price is no obstacle. It will help loosen our tongues.

Spicy Chocolate Chili Truffles

8 oz. chopped chocolate - preferably 62% cacao or higher
½ cup heavy cream
½ tsp red chili flakes
½ tsp chili powder (chilpotle or whatever your favorite is)
1 TBLS softened butter
cocoa powder for dusting mixed with ground Wrath

Heat cream to simmer. Remove from heat, add chili flakes and chili powder. Cover and steep for 15-20 minutes. Reheat briefly to simmer and pour through a strainer over chopped chocolate. Let sit a few minutes, then stir gently. Add softened butter and stir. Stir till cooled. Chill till firm, several hours. Shape cherry-sized balls and roll in cocoa mixture. Serve.

Coconut strawberry "ice cream"

One 14 oz. can coconut milk
1 TBLS agave syrup
20 drops liquid stevia
1 cup or so strawberries, cut in halves or quarters and smashed lightly with fork

Pour coconut milk into bowl and stir with whisk to incorporate any congealed coconut oil. Add agave syrup and stevia and stir with whisk to mix. Taste for sweetness. Pour into a small ice cream maker (the small size ice cream ball or Donvier ice cream maker.

Stir or churn or mix for a bit until the coconut milk is starting to thicken. Add smashed strawberries and proceed with whatever device until ice cream is ready. May serve soft out of maker or let sit in freezer.

Now that we're all sated (gustatorily that is), we can sit back and keep talking, or wander off and read some stories that I found particularly spicy this past week. Alison Tyler always has spicy stories for us - you can read and vote for group sex here or ditch the bedspread here. And over at Aphrodite's Table, Gina Marie (the smutter formerly known as Kirsten Monroe) has another thing coming for us - start here, then continues here. And if that's not enough, just click on any of the links over to the right - those are all smutters extraordinaire. 

Oh, and as if that's not enough! Here's a kinky video over at Agent Provocateur that makes me think of what these blog dinners might end up like some time!

Next Sunday we'll take over Neve Black's place. For the full summer line-up, go here. 

And sometime this week, I'll have an interview with Randy Lagana (whose artwork has graced this blog for awhile now) - and it is so weird that it worked out perfectly that each of those links goes to a blog post with one or more of his images - I didn't plan that! Here's his surreal Mango On A String.