CWB 5 – More than Just Cousins

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“Hey sis!” I answered the phone this way as my sister Ellen’s phone number was entered in my contacts list, so it told me it was her cell phone.

“You guys feeling OK?” That seemed like a strange question, and then realization dawned on what it might be. A cold chill ran down my spine.

“Yeah, why?”

“Danny’s got it, and Dave thinks he does, too. He’s been felling punky since last night.” Danny was her 10-year-old son; Dave was her husband, my brother in law.

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Any idea how?”

“Danny took a present over to his best friend the day before we went to Mom and Dads. He said he wore a mask, but after he got sick when I questioned him again, he admitted he didn’t. He was only there for about a half an hour, but their entire family has gotten it. They all got ill on Christmas day while we were out of town.”

“You haven’t gotten it?”

“I don’t know. I’m not showing any symptoms and feel just fine. I’ve moved out to the living room couch. Danny and Dave are using the master bathroom; we’re just trying to stay away from them and stay healthy. I don’t know how close you were around Danny over the holiday…”

“I know he hugged Mom and Dad and Mom kissed him.”

“All we can do is hope they don’t get it. Thank God they took our mask requirements without arguing. I guess time will tell?”

“Yeah,” my sister laughed, “when was the last time Dad did anything without arguing?”

“Nice room,” Stacy said, stepping out onto the patio on the seaward side. I stepped up behind her, wrapping my arms around her, my nose dipping to the hair over her ears and inhaling. It wasn’t just the smell of her shampoo, it was the smell of Stacy, and I immediately felt the beginning of an erection. She felt it, too, as it pressed against her backside. “Is that for me or for her?” she asked, causing me to look around as I hadn’t seen anyone else. Outside of every room was a covered awning, providing shade, and with the dropping of curtains between areas, semi-privacy if desired. A large bed sized pad was provided at each awninged location. I hadn’t noticed before, but now I looked around and realized that Stacy was referring to our neighbor to the right. The woman was just beyond the pad, alone for the moment, sitting in a beach chair in the sun, reading. At first, I thought she was nude, and then realized as I stepped closer to the door that I could see a string around her hip. I couldn’t see in front other than a partial side view of her boobs; presumably she had on some kind of thong bikini bottom as her hip and part of naked bun was visible from our vantage point. Her smallish breasts were naked so that there was nothing visible covering her from what I could see.

“All for you,” I whispered back into Stacy’s ear, “I hadn’t even looked that way yet. She is pretty sexy though,” I teased.

There was no doubt that “clothing optional” was not a misnomer. We’d had to walk by the pool, on the way to our room, where there had been multiple people in various levels of dress and undress. There were multiple people that were lying out around the pool, some totally naked, almost all of the women had been topless, others were wearing revealing swimwear. All were not wearing masks however, but at least the lounges were mostly spaced well apart, and even in the pool, couples seemed to be separating somewhat, although it was obvious that several couples were, or would soon be, playing together.

As for Stacy and me, we’d been traveling all day, multiple hours in a plane plus a layover in Dallas, and a three-hour time change. Even though it was early evening here, it was only late afternoon on our internal clocks. But we were also on vacation, in a room that opened onto the beach, and the gorgeous sand and water beckoned. “Want to go for a swim, or have me take advantage of you?” I whispered into her ear, pulling her closer and letting my hands roam her breasts.

“How about we go swimming and then we take advantage of each other?”

I was surprised at Stacy when she didn’t put on her “new” bikini, but rather her plain old flowered one. “Not going to wear the new one?” I asked when I turned around and saw what she’d put on. “How come?”

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, looked out the open window and door (we hadn’t even closed it to change) and looked back at me with a bashful look. “I will,” she said, “but do you mind if I wait until Carrie gets here?”

She had waffled when we’d planned this as to whether she was going to invite Carrie to join us, but eventually broke down and invited her best bud to come along. Carrie wouldn’t be in for a few more hours however, and then she was only going to stay for three days. She had to get her brother and sister to agree to visit and take care of her parents. That was an “inconvenience” for them, of course, with them totally forgetting the complete inconvenience that Carrie had been living for six months, but she had managed to get them for the weekend Beylikdüzü escort and a little more. They’d both balked, until she’d thrown a fit and accused them of being selfish, and she eventually got the two of them to take two days each, and luckily her parents had insisted she take some time off and then had paid for her airfare and half of the entire weeks cost at the resort. That actually was just fine for me with Carrie joining us for just three days. With Stacy and me living “alone” together, it was nice to have some interaction with someone else, but I had also had a reason for, and had been looking forward to, just being with Stacy away from home.

I assured Stace that she could wear her new bikini or not, that I found her hot and sexy whether she was showing off or not. If she wanted to wear her new bikini, which I knew not only showed, but enhanced, her body, was up to her.

But what was this bashful stuff all about? I was surprised; this was my Stacy who had gotten naked and walked across the meadow and made love with me under the trees when we’d gone camping? This was my Stacy who walked around the apartment naked half the time, and almost naked the other half of the time, seemingly enticing me at every moment? She’d never shown any bashfulness around me, but now, at the beach that she’d begged me to take her to, she seemed to be… bashful? Right outside our door was a woman who we didn’t even know who was almost nude, so it wasn’t like she was going to be wearing anything less than others were doing. I didn’t say anything for the moment, just accepted it, and although I’d considered going naked, instead put on my favorite Birdwell Beach Britches, took her hand, and we went out to get wet.

The beach itself couldn’t have been any better. The sparkling clean sand, crystal clear water, and the beach being totally uncrowded, was utter perfection. There were people but they were all well spread out. There were a few visible under the awnings outside of their rooms but, this late in the day, there just weren’t a whole lot of people. A few were in the water, some walking, almost everyone somewhere between wearing skimpy bikini’s and just being naked. No sooner had we gotten in the water than I saw a “young” couple (probably in their 30’s, at least they were only slightly older than us) walking down the beach – obviously showing off. She was topless; a skimpy patch of cloth over her pussy was held in place by just strings so her backside was completely nude, and completely tanned. He had something similar, a pouch for his cock and balls, also just strings in back, and his butt also completely tanned. Both had a mask draped around their neck, although not near anyone, as they’d obviously pulled it off of their faces for the moment.

“Maybe I should get you something like that,” Stacy said, sliding into my arms as I was slightly over waist deep, and wrapping her legs around me, her hands on my butt.

“Like that guy?” I answered, nodding at the man with his cock sack, confirming exactly what she was talking about. “How about I just go naked?

“I get to see you naked anytime. Isn’t that a lot sexier?”

“Uhmm, that’s what strippers know – almost naked is a lot sexier than totally naked. Why would you want me to wear that?”

“So I can show you off.”

“And what about me showing you off? What happened to wearing your new bikini? I thought you wanted to show off too.” I saw her eyes on the couple now walking away from us on the beach, and her eyes trace across the fronts of the rooms and cabanas.

“It’s a bit scarier than I thought it would be.”

“Scarier? How? You didn’t have any qualms about getting naked when we were camping.”

“Yeah, but there wasn’t anyone else around, either.” Something didn’t seem to add up; she’d bought the bikini on her own, she’d suggested coming to an adults-only location, and now she was just a little bit bashful?

“Just where did this idea of yours about coming to the beach and showing off come from then?”

“We used to tease each other about how much fun it would be to show off in public.”

Now she’d lost me, I wasn’t following what she was saying at all. “Who used to tease each other?”

“Carrie, Josette, and me. Back in high school when we used to go skinny dipping at the Fletchers quarry? We always wondered if Mr. Fletcher was spying on us, imagining him getting all turned on perving on us. We would talk about how aroused guys would get if they could see the three of us naked together. When we first started going swimming there, we’d get dried and dressed as soon as we got out again, but after a while we started sunbathing naked too. We used to say that someday we’d all come to a place like this and show off together.”

“Somehow you surprise me. I thought you liked showing off a little more by yourself.”

“I like showing off to you,” she whispered, pulling her mouth to my ear and nibbling at my earlobe. “I like what it does to you,” she whispered, grinding her crotch against Beylikdüzü escort mine.

“My sexy cousin does seem to have some sort of an effect on me,” I whispered back, turning my head to hers and instantly we were in a kiss.

There was no doubt that it was an “I want sex,” kiss, especially when a moment later she said, “Why don’t you take me back inside and show me?”

“Uhmm, gladly.”

We entertained each other for perhaps an hour before we pulled our swimsuits on again and went for a walk around the premises, checking out where everything was. The restaurants – I think there were four, the pool, the nightclub and disco, the concierge desk where we found out about going on tours, renting four wheelers, deep sea fishing if we wanted. By the time we headed back it was almost time for Carrie to arrive, and then we’d be off to dinner. Walking back the other way we came across the hot tub, actually more of a small pool than a ‘tub’, and big enough for a party. There were perhaps 20 people spread around in different areas without anyone being crowded together, but again only a few wearing covid masks, a few wearing nothing at all. Standing or sitting in the water, it was hard to tell who was wearing what, as virtually all the women were topless, their breasts exposed, but out of the water perhaps half were also bottomless – unabashedly nude. I expected it was similar for those in the water. The men were nude in probably equal proportions. I saw a man wearing a ‘cock sack,’ perhaps the guy from the beach earlier, several totally nude, some wearing speedo’s, and a few wearing swimsuits like I was.

There were bars scattered throughout the facility, four or five outdoors, one being here by the hot tub. A tall blonde woman was standing by the bar, wearing nothing but a smile and two pierced nipple barbells, waiting for a drink to be served. I saw her glance my way, realizing it was an appraisal.

“Looks like fun,” I commented to Stacy, “although I’ve got the feeling this is really where the true swingers hang out.”

I thought she might have missed the comment until a few moments later she said, “Ricky?”

“Yeah, babe?”

She pulled my hand closer to her, and her voice dropped to where I almost couldn’t hear her. “I don’t want to share with anyone else.”

“I know baby. Me either.” I squeezed her hand, realizing that even as she said no one, that Carrie would be with us in just minutes. Me having sex with Carrie was her doing, and although I was sure she didn’t mean Carrie, I asked.

“Carrie too?”

“Don’t be silly.”

After she arrived, Carrie wanted a shower before changing for dinner, and after having seen the restaurants, Stacy had both of them dressing up. Shirt and slacks for me had me ready almost instantly. When Stacy told me to get lost, I took a beer and went out onto the patio overlooking the now dark ocean while they got dressed. A single large ship was visible close to the horizon, silhouetted at first in the twilight, and then only its lights at the end.

Clothing optional was everywhere, and although ‘dress’ was requested for the restaurants, it had been obvious when we’d seen in earlier that almost anything qualified as “dress”. It certainly wasn’t New York formal, but it ranged from pretty dressy, to lingerie.

“Oh My Goodness,” I said, appraising both of my ladies when I came back in. Stacy had put on her “little black dress”, which would have been appropriate for anything from a resort bar to a company Christmas party. She looked fabulous, but Carrie was absolutely stunning. Carries fire engine red dress was strapless, off the shoulder, and virtually off her body. Red was definitely her color, she’d looked fabulous back home in her red teddy, and looked equally as fabulous here. Her breasts were virtually bare, her nipples barely covered, I wasn’t sure how it even stayed up. Later I found out that it was taped in place; two-sided tape on the inside of the bustline held it to her breasts. Both girls’ dresses were mini-skirt style, barely extending below their bottoms. Formed to their bodies like a second skin, and with no signs of panties or thongs or anything showing on their bottoms, I was pretty sure they were both without panties. I found out later I was right, but for now, I happily just escorted my gorgeous ladies to the restaurant.

Although both of my girls drew admiring looks, they weren’t any more or less admirable than several other women in the place. That there were three of us, rather than two or four, drew absolutely no comment from anyone. Dinner was magnificent, and when we finished up it was almost time for the Disco to open. We’d found it earlier in our walking around, but when I asked what the girls wanted to do, Carrie said that after traveling all day, she just wanted to go back to the room.

“You’ll take good care of her?” Stacy whispered, as we stepped out of the restaurant. Carrie for the moment was just a few steps ahead of us.

“Take care of you too?” Escort Beylikdüzü I whispered back; whispering just because she was.

“I’ll be ok, but she needs a man tonight.”

“Whatever you say,” I answered, just as Carrie stopped and looked back. In two steps we caught her, and we wandered on. This time when we went by the spa there were easily twice as many people as there had been a few hours before, almost all of them now naked. “Want to come back and check out the hot tub?” I suggested, not expecting an affirmative answer.

“Not tonight, maybe tomorrow? Anyway, I think we’re overdressed for it,” Carrie answered.

“It looks like wearing anything is overdressed for it,” Stacy laughed. Stepping forward she took Carrie’s arm and the two BFF’s pranced ahead for a little bit, whispering and laughing together.

Stepping a bit faster to catch them, I stepped between them, running an arm around each of their waists, before dropping a hand onto their bottoms. As I’d surmised, I felt no sign of a panty beneath on either. “Oh my, are my ladies without panties tonight?” I asked, already knowing the answer. In unison, as if planned, they both wiggled their bottom against my hand and laughed.

Back at the room we stepped in and I noticed, but didn’t comment, as Stacy slid to one side to go around us. As I was stepping forward, Carrie turned around and I found myself slipping into her arms. “My Goodness,” I said, unable to keep my eyes from traversing the chasm of her cleavage. As I admired the globes of her breasts, I saw Stacy stepping over to the toilet in my peripheral vision. “Just how is it that you keep this fabulous dress from falling down?” I ran my finger from her neckline down between her breasts, inside the vee of her bosom until I reached the top of the dress. I knew my finger couldn’t be more than a fraction of an inch from her nipple as I ran it to the outside, toward her armpit.

“Tit tape.”

“What?” I said, never having heard of such a thing. “Tit tape? What’s tit tape?”

Carrie smirked and turned her back, obviously trying to keep me from seeing what she was doing. I watched as her arms came up and her head went down as she looked down at her boobs doing something, and then seconds later she turned around and held out several small strips of what I easily deciphered as double-sided tape when I took them from her. “Tit tape?” I said, glancing down at her bust once again. “And that’s all it takes?”

Carrie stepped forward to me, raised and put her arms around my shoulders. In doing so, her tits popped out. Or, at least, I should say her nipples popped free as her breasts were nearly exposed to begin with. Just that little bit of change in her muscles, her breasts rising while the dress stayed in place and both nipples were now resting on top of the dress, her areolas half exposed. “That’s all it takes,” she said, glancing down at her now bare breasts, “Don’t leave home without it.”

I reached up with my one hand again, traced exactly where I had before, only this time my finger ran across the tops of her nipples. “I think I like it better without tit tape,” I said, my finger running across her nipple where I could feel it erecting even more to my touch.

“Admit it, you just like my tits anyway.”

“Well, there is that” I said, reaching up with my other hand at the same time, my fingers tweaking both nipples at the same time. “And such nice tits you’ve got, too.”

Her hand slid forward to my crotch, easily finding my half hard prick which, just like her nipples, rapidly hardened to the touch. She hadn’t been far from me, but now stepped forward, her body pressed against mine and she bent her face up to mine. I didn’t immediately move my lips to hers, instead holding back just a bit. “Need something?” I teased.

“Kiss me,” she said, moving her face even closer to mine. I slid my hands off her breasts and onto her back, lowering them to her ass, and finding no feel of anything underneath the dress.

“And?” I continued, my hands squeezing her buns.

“And fuck me.” I looked up and around, realizing that Stacy was still in the toilet.

“Oh? And what will my girlfriend say about that?” I teased, knowing that Stacy had already told me to be sure and take care of Carrie.

“She said I could have you all to myself to start with, that you’d taken care of her earlier.”

“Ahh.” My fingers had been working the hem of her dress higher as we’d flirted, and finally it was above her ass. I now slipped my hands down onto her bare ass. “My, my, I was right, my girls weren’t wearing panties tonight.”

“Just for you…”

“Maybe. I think there were a lot of people that might have surmised that.”

“Maybe so, but it was all for you tonight.” Finally, I relented and succumbed to the nearness of her mouth, her whispered teases, and the desire for a kiss. I leaned in and closing my eyes, her mouth attacked mine. She hungrily sucked my tongue from my mouth into hers, the desire to have a cock in her at the bottom end matching my tongue in her mouth quite obvious, the heat of our bodies rising exponentially. Two handed I rubbed her naked ass, and then moved my left hand to the front, to her pussy, even as her hands were fumbling with my pants.

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Top Definition
being completely controlled by your girlfriend or boyfriend...in most cases a guy being completely controlled by his girlfriend.
Damn! Joe is whipped!
מאת dabanga 12 באפריל, 2003
133 more definitions
Being completely controlled by a woman to the point where you will do or say anything that she tells you to. In most cases the guy isn't getting any pussy.
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מאת spankys a lesbian bitch 1 בינוארWhen a man is controlled by his girlfriend...almost entirely. To the point of embarresment when his friends tell him that his girlfriend has got him whipped.
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מאת Ahh 1 במאי, 2005
Doing every thing that your girlfriend says and ditching your real friends for her, being a little bitch, answering to the crack of the voice, Ray and Schaub
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מאת Kent Eikey 28 באפרילbeing controlled and doing everything your girlfriend tells you to
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דוא"ל יומי חינם

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Savage Love (8/3/16)

I can't believe this is why I'm finally writing you. My husband is using Pokémon Go as an excuse to stay out until 5 a.m. with another woman. She is beautiful and about a decade younger than him, and he won't hear me out on why this is bothersome. Our work schedules don't match up, and he always wants me to meet him in the wee hours of the morning after I've worked a full day shift and done all the work of looking after our pets. I can give him the benefit of the doubt and be totally fine with him wanting to stay out after work for a few drinks with friends, even though I'm too tired to join them, but Pokémon Go until 5 a.m. alone with a 20-something for four straight weeks?! It's driving me crazy. I told him how I feel, and he says it's my fault for "never wanting to do anything." (I don't consider walking around staring at a phone "doing something.") I told him I feel like he doesn't even like me anymore, and he didn't even acknowledge my feelings with a response. With the craze this has become, we can't be the only couple with this problem. I don't think me enabling his actions by joining the game is the answer, but I'd be absolutely gutted if this game was the straw that broke up our 10-year relationship. Please help.

- Pokémon Go Means No

Second Life, SimCity, Quake, Counter-Strike, World of Warcraft, Minecraft – it's always something.

By which I mean to say, PGMN, Pokémon Go isn't destroying your marriage now, just as SimCity wasn't destroying marriages 15 years ago. Your husband is destroying your marriage. He's being selfish and inconsiderate and cruel. He doesn't care enough about you to prioritize your feelings – or even acknowledge them, it seems.

When a partner's actions are clearly saying, "I'm choosing this thing – this video game, this bowling league, this whatever – over you," they're almost always saying this, as well: "I don't want to be with you anymore, but I don't have the courage or the decency to leave so I'm going to neglect you until you get fed up and leave me."

Let him have his ridiculous obsessions – with this game, with this girl – and when he comes to his senses and abandons Pokémon Go just like people came to their senses and walked away from Second Life a decade ago, you'll be in a better position to decide whether you want to leave him.

I am currently separated. A few months after I moved out, my estranged wife found out that I cheated on her before we got married. I was a CPOS. I feel horribly guilty and would like to think I'll never do it again. The question is: When and what should I disclose to future partners?

- No Clever Acronym

There's no need to disclose this to future partners. Everyone makes mistakes – and the mistake you made, while a deeply painful betrayal of your then-girlfriend and presumably a violation of a premarital monogamous commitment, is a thoroughly common one. Human beings aren't used cars – we aren't obligated to disclose every ditch we drove ourselves into before we resell ourselves. You didn't fuck around on your ex habitually, you're not a serial cheater and you never violated your marriage vows. So there's that. Resolve not to make this mistake again – make only new ones – and stuff that incident down Ye Olde Memory Hole.

I hooked up with this hot married couple. We'd done it before, and my expectations were shaped by previous (fun) experiences with them. But the sex wasn't good this time. That would be fine – sometimes it just doesn't work, and I am an adult about it – but for the specific reason it wasn't good: The husband came on my face after I specifically told him not to do that. I used my words. He still blew a load in my face and then sheepishly kinda apologized afterwards. He said he didn't mean to do it and that he was aiming at my boobs. I do not believe it for a second. It was an "ask forgiveness, not permission" kind of thing – I could see that on his face. He looooves facials. So that sealed my decision to not sleep with them again, which I told them about. I consider a load in my face against my will to be a big violation of my trust/friendship. The couple thinks I'm overreacting and that a load in your face should be a forgivable offense. I'm not going to change my mind, but I am curious what you think about sneaky facials.

- Unwanted Semen Angers! Unicorn Seeking Advice!

Sneaky facials are sneaky, and I don't approve of sneakiness in the sack. People should be straightforward and direct; they should communicate their wants, needs and limits clearly; and we should all err on the side of solicitousness, i.e., drawing new sex partners out about their wants, needs and limits, because some folks have a hard time using their words where sex is concerned.

You used your words, USA!USA!, and this dude violated your clearly communicated wants, needs and limits. I'm glad you let them know you were upset and why you weren't going to see them again. Single women who want to hook up with married couples are hard to come by (and in) – that's why you're called unicorns – and his selfish disregard for your limits, his clear violation of your trust, cost them a unicorn.

I have two questions. No. 1: I saw a sex worker for a legit sensual massage that turned into fooling around. Once that happened, he mentioned "making" straight guys have sex with him, wanting to give massages to teenagers, and he talked dirty about younger boys. I know this could all be provocative fantasy talk, but I had a weird feeling about him before meeting. Who would I even disclose this to if that were the right thing to do, and how would I do so while protecting his (should be legal) right to trade ass for cash? No. 2: Furthermore, I'm a thirsty genderqueer girl plotting her escape from a suburban town. I'm not going to be here long enough to look for an LTR. How can I satisfy my lust safely? It seems like every time I hook up with someone, they disclose intense drug use or other risky behavior after the fact.

- Fantasizing Lecherously About Good Sex

No. 1: There's no licensing board for sex workers – there's no accrediting organization, no sex-work equivalent of the legal profession's bar association (and most sex workers would oppose the establishment of one) – so there's nowhere you can go to report this guy. If he confessed to an actual crime, FLAGS, you could go to the police, and they might even do something about it. But the police are unlikely to get involved if he was just fantasizing; it's not against the law to engage in dirty talk, even extremely fucked-up/ickily transgressive/not-OK dirty talk.

No. 2: Masturbation is the safest way to satisfy your lust until you get your ass out of that druggy suburb full of risky-sex junkies and to the big city, where we urbanites drink only hot tea, snort only in derision and use only condoms religiously.

On the Lovecast, Dan chats with MTV's Ira Madison III about sex and race: savagelovecast.com.

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Passionate gay sex story of two lovers and their romance: 4

Adult gay romance story: …And as I lay, eyes closed, still gasping, I felt him release my cock and swirl his tongue over my still tightly knotted balls, slipping under… while at the same time gripping my knees and lifting my legs high, parting them… the moist tongue flicking its way down my hairless perineum… going for my anus!

Read from the beginning here!

“Uhhh…” I groaned, my pelvis jerking as his tongue stabbed at my tightly clenched opening…

Bas, mein paagal banaa jaa rahaa thaa at the impossible pleasure flooding my body as his tongue lapped along my crack… twirling around and tickling my tight little opening… his lips pursed as he kissed my tiny hole…

Maano mein apnaa hosh gawaane hii wala thaa when I felt his mouth move up… over my still tight balls, my flaccid cock… kissing his way up my soft, smooth body… till he reached my mouth, gently nipping my lips, kissing me… making me groan into his mouth… CRAZY IN LOVE, TOTALLY HAPPY!

Still chewing on my lips I felt his hands slide down my arms, taking my hands in his, our fingers interlacing… and then he swung them high, stretching my arms over my head, leaning down on me, his torso flush against mine… and that’s when I sensed the intense heat, and the fierce rigidity between my still parted thighs…

He was rock hard once more – his engorged cock-head nudging my thighs and pubes… blindly poking and prodding around my groin!

Mere thirakte labon se nikalta huyaa wo ‘aah’, mere sulagtii sansoon kaa wo garmi, maano sara badan me aag lagii hon… unhe aur uttejit kar rahaa tha… and he kept grinding his pelvis against my crotch more forcefully…

Woh ab paaglon jaisa choom rahaa thaa mujhe, biting down on my already puffed lips… his tongue tip repeatedly tickling my super-sensitive philtrum — an act he knows drives me wild, arouses me beyond control — and I writhed under him with renewed lust, groaning out my desire… he abruptly pulled back his mouth.

“Lenaa hain abhi?” unhone poochhaa, his voice husky.

“Haan…” I whimpered back – aur thaa bhi kya vikalp mere paas?

“Toh khud pakad ke daal le…” he said, releasing my right hand.

Meine haath neeche karte huye unkaa khadaa lund pakad liyaa — uff, kya mast motaa lund, kya akad, kya garmi! — aur seedhaa mere chhed pe tikaa diyaa.

He immediately began rocking his hips… gently nudging, coaxing my hole to relax and open up… aur achanak saa chhed ubhar uthaa, stretching wide open, and his swollen glans just popped in!

We both gasped… me groaning as he paused, letting me adjust.

And then he began to gently work his way into me, slowly sliding in… inch after thick inch.

It took him a while, but he was finally in, right down to the thick base of his giant penis… before beginning to fuck me!

Mein table pe laetaa, aur woh mere ooper jhukaa huyaa… our mouth still joined in an unbroken kiss, our hands once more gripping each other, fingers tightly intertwined… me gripping him as my body rocked to and fro… continuously moaning into his mouth as he speeded up!

It was an outrageously oragious session of mindblowing sex… on and on… aur mein ascharya-chakit reh gayaa — poora dinn fast karne ke baad, binaa kuch khaaye… kya power, kya stamina… wow!

Aur jaise-jaise unkaa mota lund meraa prostate ko rub kartaa gayaa, waise-waise meraa lund bhi phir se khadaa hone lagaa…

Unhone mera lund kaa akad mehsoos kiya, aur mera munh chhod kar sarr uthhayaa…

“Jaanu,” he smiled, the voice hoarse, “when you ejaculate while I’m still inside you, tu aisaa mast dabaataa mera lund kae mazaa aa jataa!”

Aur phir mujhe thoda saa neeche taraf kheechtey huye meraa kamar ooper karke khud jhuk gayaa, aur phirse meraa lund apna munh me le liya!

“Oooo….” I cried out as the moist heat engulfed my raging cock.

This was something totally new – iss se pehele aisa kabhi nahi huyaa thaa, in the past seven months he had never sucked me off while fucking me, my hips swaying high, jerking wildly!

Having a fat cock in your ass, and a wet, warm mouth around your cock is out of this world…

Meraa kamar bekaabu thaa… bucking and swaying… slamming at his crotch as he thrust in, and then lunging high, shoving my cock in his mouth as he pulled out!

It took maybe ten minutes this time, and I was once more shooting my cum in his mouth… my ass crazed as the overworked muscles squeezed and tugged at his cock… making him grunt even as he was still swallowing my semen.

Once I was done he released my cock and moved up aur mujhe choomne laga, meraa honth choosne lagaa… his breath ragged, his hunches erratic…

Another five minutes and he went wild… slamming in as he unleashed a torrent of sizzling hot sperm deep inside me, filling my belly with the viscous liquid!

Hum dono hii ab bilkul thak chooke thae, choor-choor… me flat on the table, and he slumped over me… both panting like marathon runners…

His massive cock still encapsuled in my snug, incommodious flesh sleeve, we remained joint in rapture… still chewing and nibbling at each other’s lips, purring with joy — totally drained, fully sated… desirous for more!

Ek kuch saat-dus minute ke baad unhone apna sarr uthhayaa, and as I blinked open my eyes, looking up at him, giving a crooked smile haampte huye bolaa, “Yaar, ab sirf teraa cum se nahi chalegaa, ab toh kuch solid khaanaa hii padegaa!”

Mein pooraa sharmaa gayaa, blushing furiously… aur tabhi door bell baj utthaa.

Honestly, mein ek alag hii duniyaa me thaa, and the sound startled me, making me wonder kaun ho sakta hain… when he lifted off me, finally pulling out his cock… his cum instantly gushing out of my furiously twitching anus. rolling down my crack…

“Ah, perfect timing!” he exclaimed looking around for his clothes, calling out, “Yaar, Ravi, rukh zara, abhi khol raha hoon…”

It was Ravi, the food delivery boy — jo harr roz khaana le karr aataa!

Lifting up on my elbows I was looking around for my clothes when he came back from the balcony with his boxers, waving a hand at me as he pulled them on…

“Kapde pehen-ne kaa koi zaroorat nahi, tujhe toh godd me le kar, lund pe bithaakar, kiss karte-karte khaanaa khilaoonga… in fact, aaj Karwa Chauth, raat bhar andar hii rakh doonga, nikaalongaa nahi!”

Adult gay romance story of horny lover boys

I went red in the face at his words, and felt a shudder pass down my slender frame… but before I could say or do anything, he had already opened the door…

“Hey, Ravi… thanks yaar,” I heard him say… feeling terribly weird lying there on the table, all naked and leaking cum… a stranger at the front door!

“Kal bhi do meals naa?” I heard the boy ask.

“Haan, hamesha jaisa, agle do dinn.”

Darwaaza bundh karte huye he came and placed the food on the table, and then grinned at me, “Chal, ab boxers utaar ke baith jaa… I’ll feed you!”

Aur jaise mein neeche taraf dekhaa, I found his boxers front already tented!

If you liked it please leave a comment, or hit the ‘LIKE” button.


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A stroll in the Alcudia Valley

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tagBDSMLeading "Sweetness" Further Astray Ch. 01

Leading "Sweetness" Further Astray Ch. 01

For those who have enjoyed my prior submissions and asked for others, this story submission is intended to be the 1st of a three part series and to satisfy those requests.

I write for women. And in my stories, I make you, the female reader, the focus and the point of attention...in my stories, the female reader IS the character...my character. My character "Sweetness" has a timid, ladylike persona in public but you have a secret, seething appetite for sex and submission...torrid, unbridled, uninhibited sex. And she (you) seek to be secretly possessed by a strong, dominant man who takes what he wants and draws every last morsel of erotic naughtiness from her imaginative mind and sultry body.

Sweetness...My pussy...Let your imagination go and wander into this realm. In general, my stories are about submission and domination but this one is rather mild compared to prior submissions.

Please, if you enjoy this story, read my other stories posted here, and let me know. But let me know what direction you would like the next chapter of this story to take...where should I take you...how far astray should I lead you...what should I do to, and for you?

The mind is an incredible tool...use it. Offer shape for subsequent chapters.

Now, let yourself slip into the fantasy. Read on.

Chapter 1.

You step very carefully out of the taxi cab. Your short, ultra-tight tube-dress is already at your thighs, reaching just barely below your ass-cheeks. Anyone looking would probably get a glimpse of your shaven and so needy pussy as your swelteringly hot legs spread while exiting. No panties...for you know and obey...no panties in my presence; your pussy is warm and moist.

Once standing upright, you hesitate on the pavement for a few moments, the sinking sun behind you, looking at the tall and strangely intimidating doorman and the regal looking façade of the hotel. You breathe nervously, heavily as the passing pedestrians turn to look you up-and down. The passing men take a second look over their shoulders; some a third, and some never stop staring.

"This is it," you tell yourself. All that time, all those previous dates around home...it's all been building up to this point. Three days ago I sent you an airline ticket to this amazing resort destination and a brief note. The note only had a few directions...no pleasantries, simply dominant, mysterious directions. One said, "Sweetness, My sweet little slut, drop everything and meet me, Yours, Michael." The 2nd said, "Travel comfortably, but change into this outfit at the airport for the trip to the hotel."

And the package that arrived with the note? Well, it contained the tightest, shortest most erotic dress you'd ever seen. You knew to obey, and frankly we both knew you would.

Today. In the heat of the anxious moment. After flying non-stop for many hours, but now dressed as ordered...in that sultry slip of cloth, your 5-inch stiletto heels, and your choker, the fear and the excitement and the shear lust of the moment hits your stomach and makes your heart race as you battle against yourself to decide, are you in or are you out?

The doorman smiles. He knows. You are sure he knows, you think to yourself. Why is he smiling, if he doesn't know? But it is this man's seemingly knowing and annoyingly judgmental smile that makes up your mind. You confidently smile back, point to your very small over-night bag and ask the doorman to call a porter. Then, you strut forward, hips swaying erotically, trying to hide everything, but failing; exposing all your curves and all your fears, but suggesting all your naughty desires.

You enter the hotel and take a look around the huge, dominating foyer. You wonder if I am there yet; perhaps watching from afar; perhaps awaiting your arrival. You feel that you are already on display for me...NO. You know it. You know that this part is my test. Your instructions were otherwise quite vague. But you suspect that I am enjoying the way you feel as you attempt to check into the hotel I've chosen. We planned three nights in this beautiful place and you suspect it will be a very full three nights. And secretly, you plan to surprise me.

Convinced I am there watching you, you gather your thoughts, but hesitate, waiting for the porter carrying your bag to catch up with you before approaching the reception counter. You turn and catch him staring at your ass. Swiftly, you turn back and slowly, carefully walk forwards, legs crossing, hips swaying, shimmering hair flowing down your uncovered back.

Dressed in the provocative short black tube dress that clings to every vivacious curve, your black choker and slinky black stilettos, you don't look quite right crossing the foyer. Amongst the rich, but more comfortably dressed guests, you look too sultry for this time of day. The front-desk clerk looks you up and down, and once again you feel judged. You feel your face flush at the almost prying visual invasion she gives you.

All the third, (and final) part of my instructions gave you was a list of items you were to bring this weekend, (the tube skirt, a bikini, your stilettos and choker and your cosmetics and toiletries), a direction that someone would meet you at the bar if I was delayed, and the name to ask for as you arrive. "I am here to meet...Michael" you announce, determined not to speak shyly. "Michael." That's all I gave you, as if there was only one Michael in the whole wide world.

The receptionist smiles, asking you to wait one moment and retrieves an envelope from back of the desk, turns back and hands it to you. "Michael instructed me to give this to you, he would like you to wait in the bar. We will send your case to the suite, I'm sure you will, ah how should I say...ENJOY your stay." she says with a knowing smirk.

You reach out with your petite hand and quizzically, curiously and cautiously take the envelope; your blue painted nails contrasting against the pristine white paper. When she sees them, she stares for one moment before looking up knowingly into your eyes. You defensively pull your hand back and slowly step back from the reception desk, hiding your hands by folding your arms over your chest.

"Thank you," you say coyly, the confidence in your voice knocked askew by this surprise. "She seems to know too." you think silently. You turn hurriedly and fairly run towards the bar, looking around to see if you can spot me, opening the envelope and beginning to read the note inside as you scurry.

'Good girl," it reads. "You have done well so far, I know you are nervous. Know this; I can see you, dressed just as I want you, so fuckable my dear. Can you feel all eyes watching you? Can you feel the eyes of the other guests, looking at you, suspecting that you are here for some sordid reason? Do you realize that you are every man in this hotel's fantasy, and every woman in this hotel's worst fear? All the men desire you...all the woman wish to be you. Flaunt your beauty my dear and make them all jealous.

You are to go to the bar, take a stool and order a champagne cocktail, I want to see you perch on that high stool in that outfit. I want to see you struggle to keep your dignity in that dress. I will show myself and meet you there in due time, be ready."

You slip the note into your purse and look around again. You think to yourself that by looking around; searching so blatantly only serves to show others that you are not in control, so you stop, hold your head up and enter the lounge.

You choose a stool in the center of the bar. They seem so high. With difficulty, you slide onto the seat, keeping your sultry, seductive legs tightly pressed together, tugging first at the hemline across your thighs, so as to hide your freshly shaven pussy and the dampness on your inner thighs, and then at the chest-line, pulling it up over your heaving cleavage. You sense your little pink nipples stretching the tight fabric for all to see. You feel as comfortable as you can (while obviously dressed for exhibition and exposure). You order your drink.

You sit quietly, sipping daintily-femininely, but soon feel a little giddy as you reach the bottom of the glass faster than is normal for you. Nervous, you order another for courage and shift your weight, crossing your legs to the opposite side. For twenty-five minutes you sit, still but nervous; getting more anxious by the moment...twenty-five long, excruciating minutes when I do not arrive, and when every man in this room gawks hungrily upon you. You squirm uncomfortably, continually trying to both cover and compose yourself. As is occasionally your singular flaw, you begin to worry needlessly that I have decided that I no longer wish to be with you, that you have failed me in some way.

Lost in your erroneous thoughts, a singular man finally works up the courage, walks up and offers to buy you another drink. Clumsily, he tries to tell you how wonderful you look while making a very awkward and demeaning pass at you. The way he approaches and his overall appeal remind you of what you so like about me as opposed to others like him.

My classy, confidence level is like nothing you've every encountered before and that blatant confidence and dominant class, so absent in this stranger, intoxicates you.

You look at him in a disappointed way, but trying to decide what to do...how to react. For if its true that I am watching, could I be testing you? Your mind races. You graciously accept the man's offer, (just in case this is a test), and he sits on the stool beside you and begins to make small talk.

All while he talks, you look around cautiously, paying him little mind? As he talks, he slips his hand onto your knee, rather presumptuously and begins to get pushy, asking for your room number. You hate his approach and wish he would leave...not smooth enough, not confident enough, not dark enough, not at all mysterious, and not at all erotic enough. This is no test.

You thank the man for the drink and ask him to leave, explaining that you are here only to meet someone...someone very special, but he refuses to go, talking louder, making comments about your attire; suggesting nastily, that you are there for one thing and one thing only.

Then you feel a strong arm wrap around you, instantly comforting. Startled, you swiftly turn towards the touch when you feel a light, gentle kiss on your cheek and a strong voice in your ear. "Is this man bothering you Sweetness," I ask. As I do he immediately leaves.

You turn to look at me and I am looking deep, longingly, darkly, seductively into your eyes. You instantly wonder how you could have thought that man might be connected to me; the contrast so startling.

"Hello Michael," you say as I lean in to kiss you, and you fall into my arms. We kiss deep, and I feel your whole warm, quivering body pressed tightly against mine. My strong arms encircle you; the sensation you feel is protective and possessive all at once. You feel my body, strong and rippled, and smell the sweet, manly aroma of my musky scent.

Wrapped in one another's arms once again, the magic is undeniable...our limbs fit like gloves, and the warm embers of desire flame fast and furious. I smell your sweet femininity and your alluring perfume, and feel your soft, girly flesh give way to my every caressing touch. Our bodies touch in all the right places; and you are amazed that you seem to be able to feel every pleasure point lit at once. After several long moments wrapped together where you seem not to want to let go, we finally break.

I take your hand and you slide from the stool. I look at your outfit and smile my approval. You feel vindicated and wondrously confident now. "For you," you say, and spin on your heels to show me your curves from every angle.

"For you," I say, as I first step back and open my sport coat, and then take you in my arms and press my groin hard against your hungry flesh. You sigh, and grip my arm with both of yours as we break. I lead you to the restaurant where we are shown to a very, very secluded but prestigious table.

The time passes quickly as we eat our meal; we talk like it was only yesterday since our last erotic rendezvous. I ask how your journey was; you ask how my day has been and so on. I comment on your nails and your head falls a little in submission.

We finish our meal and sit waiting for coffee. I slip my hand under the table and onto your thigh. You jump ever so slightly as you feel my strong hand slide up your thigh and between your legs. Involuntarily, you spread your legs, and voluntarily slide against me, then down lower into the seat, signaling your desire and displaying your submission. As you slide down, your tight dress slides up your thighs, your ass now almost completely exposed but hidden from the few other patrons by the extending table cloth.

I look intently at you, not displaying any clue to my impending plans. I feel the damp arousal from your sweet pussy that has drizzled onto your thighs. Your lipstick-covered lips part and your eyes close, your nipples strain against the tiny covering fabric. I lean forwards a little, as if listening to an interesting part of a conversation and barely; just barely touch your damp pussy with one long, manly finger. You sigh, bite your lower lips and extend your eager hips in my direction. I speak very soft yet dominantly as I prepare to invade your lustful body.

"You are so wet, and no panties, what a slut you are" I say calmly.

You attempt to answer, but cannot. You merely moan softly and grip the edge of the table as my fingers gently slide back to caress the inside of your thighs, mere inches from your treasure. Your hips rhythmically rise and fall and your chest with them as your breathing grows heavy. "Michael," you whisper as you nervously flick a long strand of hair from your brow, (a nervous but sexy little "tick" you have but have never recognized), "You are working me into a frenzy. Please touch me there again."

You look anxiously around the restaurant to see if people are looking. You sense that they are, but do not care. For now you care only about what I am doing to you. "Keep yourself under control my little slut slut, or I will stop and you will receive no more pleasure than this tonight," I demand of you.

"ahhh yes Mmm Michael," you groan as you squirm under my touch, already desperate to cum.

I lean in close and press my lips into the shimmering hair around your ear. "Listen to me very closely Sweetness," I naughtily whisper as I caress your thighs. "I am going to fuck you so hard and so frequently this weekend, that you will often cream and likely scream on many an occasion. But I shall tease you, toy with you and test you. You are my cum-drenchable, cock craving fuck slut aren't you?"

You nod yes, and I speak again. "While I use you wantonly for my pleasure, you will beg to cum and you will beg to taste and feel my cum. And drench you I shall, I shall cover you in cum, bathe you and cover you again. I shall torment you with my cock for my enjoyment, and when you think that I am through with you, think again. For I will fill you with my cock still again. You are mine to do with as I please...mine to fuck how, when and where I please...mine to feed my cock into every orifice you own. Mine to taste and suck...every last shivering tasty inch and morsel of your flesh is mine. I will both punish and pleasure your raw, quivering flesh and I shall invade both your pleading body, your craving throat and your lusty mind. Tonight, tomorrow and the night after."

You gasp. "Oh Michael," is all you can say as I continue to caress your thighs while I speak, enjoying your frustration, enjoying your predicament. Your face flushes and your eyes close tight. I feel your body tense. You bite your lip. You try not to make a sound or give the game away, but after a few seconds you begin to cry from the pain of containment. "Do you want to cum?" I ask.

You nod, "Yes" forcefully YES, as your face contorts, trying to maintain control, and you bite your lower lip even harder, nearly breaking the surface of your flesh with your sharp pearly white teeth.

"Tell me my slut, I want to hear your quivering voice tell me," I insist. My voice sounds so calm, so certain and so utterly powerful. You think to yourself that this sounds like everything you've always fantasized about...to be taken, to be used, to be pillaged with absolutely no semblance of control...but now, given the opportunity...do you dare?

"Ooh please, please," you groan.

"Sweetness," I say. "This is your one and only chance to change your mind. I shall place my fingers at your lips. If you want to call this weekend off, then push them away. Otherwise, kiss my fingers. I look into your eyes...you look into mine. Neither one of us blinks. My fingers slide up your thighs and again meet your drooling snatch. You gasp and sit up straight. Slowly two fingers begin to slip in. Your legs spread wide, and my fingers slide in as deep as the first knuckles. You quiver.

I nod once, then slowly, every so slowly, I begin to slip my fingers, out, down and off your thighs. You shudder. Your body hesitates to relinquish that touch...your knees clench. I stop trying to pull them away. For several long seconds, neither one of us moves, our eyes are locked upon one another...a dare...neither one will relinquish. Then, slowly, you open your legs and release my hand.

I grin and remove my fingers through the trail of moisture on your thighs, then place them at your mouth. Without hesitation, you kiss them once, very, very gently, very delicately. You close your eyes as you do so. Then, suddenly you cannot contain your greed. You wantonly grab my hand and feed my damp fingers into your mouth tasting yourself on me, sucking them with mad and obvious intent...to show me your unbridled lust and submission to my plans.

Instantly ferocious and aggressive, I slide my fingers deep into your mouth, meeting no resistance 'cept for your delicate, pink, licking tongue and your lips close around them. You suck hungrily, greedily. I push you onto your back in the booth, and lean way over your shaking body. "What a nasty little slut you are Sweetness," I say with a devious, dominant laugh.

"Yes my Master," you say coyly as your eyelashes flutter girlishly...faking innocence. "All my holes are yours and yours alone, Michael," you breathily whisper...the last statement made not so innocently.

With that, I sit up fast and take your hand, pull you from the booth and guide you out of the restaurant to the elevator. You are trembling as we walk, but so overwhelmed with lust and desire that you barely recognize the disheveled fit of your dress, and barely care. I pull you forward hungrily. You skitter behind me, trying to keep up in your naughty, sexy heels. Your tight, smooth, exposed legs flex athletically, erotically with each step. Your exposed thighs rub delightfully with each sauntering, wiggly step. You feel the stream of pussy juice, now drying white on the inside of your thighs. You smell your arousal in the air.

As you scurry you notice the looks from the guests and hotel staff; the knowing smiles as they see me leading; no dragging you onward towards what is obviously going to be a hot and steamy night. Those that pass, turn to take a second look at your suggestive naughtiness. From afar witnesses strain their necks to take a peek. My gaze is straight ahead. Your gaze is from side-to-side. I fairly drag you, like a disobedient little girl.

Alone, we enter the elevator, many sets of eyes still upon us until the doors close. When they do, you swiftly fall into my arms and kiss me passionately; your tongue soaks my lips as you wantonly taste my flesh. But over my shoulder, you see the security camera, and stop, stepping back, at first, startled and your confidence temporarily shaken. But I lean in, pressing my strong supple body against your own and kiss you so hard, so passionately, that you feel my hardness through my trousers and your lips mashed on your teeth.

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Kindle Sales Figures (June 2015)

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[quote author=NAME REMOVED FOR BOOK PUBLICATION EDITION]What do your sales look like? Can you show me some actual numbers?[/quote]

Well, we are 3 days into the month (today is June 3, 2015), and if I go to my Amazon KDP Dashboard, select "Month-to-Date Unit Sales" I am told that so far this month, my books have sold:

The Night of The Screaming Unicorn  (B00N97L1D6) 29 copies

- The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane (serial) Volume 1

  • $2.99 x 70% = $2.09 x 29 = $60.61 income in 3 days

Wasted Time (B00LFUX1XC) 16 copies

- Twisted Tales series (a stand alone)

  • .99c x 35% = .35c x 16 = $5.60 income in 3 days

The Night of the Red Lightning - My Alien lover series (B00Y5CN9DY) 5 copies

- My Alien Lover (serial) Volume 1

  • .99c x 35% = .35c x 5 = $1.75 income in 3 days

Where the Heck Is the Ceiling? (B008FD90QE) 4 copies

- Twisted Tales series (a stand alone)

  • .99c x 35% = .35c x 4 = $1.40 income in 3 days

Quaraun and The Vampire: Into The Swamp of Death (B00T72LVEQ)  1 copy

- The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane (serial) Volume 8

  • $2.99 x 70% = $2.09 x 1 = $2.09 income in 3 days

What Homeless People REALLY Want: A Behind The Scenes Look Into The Everyday Life Of The Scottish Gypsies of Old Orchard Beach, Maine  (B00WFU89O2) 1 copy

- Memoirs of a Gypsy Queen Book 2 (non-fiction series)

  • .99c x 35% = .35c x 1 = .35c income in 3 days

So that is 56 sales in 3 days, meaning I'm averaging about 18 sales a day so far this week, bringing in an income of $71.80 in 3 days. Which as you can see is not earth shattering, and is more then what you'd make at a part time minimum wage job. (Minimum wage currently being $7.50 an hour and part time being 20 hours or less = AT MOST $150 in 7 days.

  • $71.80/3 = $23.93 a day = $167.51 a week = $8,710.52
  • ($7.50hr x 20hrs = $150) $150/7 = $21.43 a day = $150 a week = $7,800
  • $8,710.52 a year is $910.52 more then minimum wage per year.

Yes, someone working part-time minimum wage earns ONLY $7,800 a year. For some reason it always surprises people when they find out just how low a minimum wage income actually is. $7.50 an hour for 20 hours a week is ONLY $7,800 a year. I'm left to assume that minimum wage is much, much higher then $7.50 an hour in other states, as one author commented that they had no idea there were any states with a minimum wage less than $12 an hour. Actually, the minimum wage was only just recently increased to $7.50 in 2012. It had been $5.30 prior to 2012. So in 2012 that chart would have looked like this:

  • $71.80/3 = $23.93 a day = $167.51 a week = $8,710.52
  • ($5.30hr x 20hrs = $106) $150/7 = $15.15 a day = $106 a week = $5,512
  • $8,710.52 a year is $3,198.52 more than (the 2012) minimum wage per year.

Apparently the cost of living is MUCH lower in Maine, then it is in the lower 48, because from 2006 to 2013 my income was about $2,000 a year and I had no trouble living on that, and from the 1980s to 2006, my income was rarely more than $900 a year and I had no trouble living on that either. And minimum wage only paid out $5,500 a year, as little as 2 years ago (2012) and there's more than a million people in the state, living on minimum wage, working only part time jobs, so, you can see why I get confused when, people like that guy in the blog post you sent me, are complaining that they can't pay a $2,000 a month rent on their exorbitant $30,000 a year income. And why I ask, where the hell does he live that $30k is a low income or that rent is $2k a month? He doesn't live here in Maine, that's for sure. Anyone with a $30k income here in Maine would be seen as a millionaire.

Keep in mind, that even though it is a VERY LOW income,  compared to a non-author working a regular day job, my income, for my word count, and my genre is considered VERY HIGH and ABOVE AVERAGE when compared to other authors of short Bizarro. My results are not typical. No, my sales are nowhere near as high as Virginia Wade's, but neither is any one else's in Monster Porn, and as low as my sales are, I'm considered to be selling way above average, for my genre.

You will also notice that only 3 of the 6 titles sold in the last 3 days are Monster Porn, however 35 of the 56 books sold in the past 3 days were Monster Porn.

Also of the $71.80 made in 3 days, $60.61 was made by a single title and yes that title is a Monster Porn title.

I will remind you at this point that the Quaraun series is Yaoi (Boy Love) not Erotica and My Alien Lover is "soft porn" mildly-Erotic Romance, not Erotica. Meaning that exactly 0 of the 56 books sold in the last 3 days, were Erotica. My Erotica titles rarely sell more the 1 or 2 copies per title per month. It would be unusual to see an Erotica title show up on the list. Keeping in mind too, that I only have a few Erotica titles to begin with.

Do keep in mind that I write Monster PORN, not Monster EROTICA. They are different. I point this out, because most people who contact me asking for information on writing Monster Porn, don't ACTUALLY want to write Monster Porn, but instead want to write Monster Erotica. Monster Porn is DIFFERENT from Monster Erotica, and unlike what the titles suggest, Monster Porn is actually far tamer (sex wise) then Monster Erotica. Because the phrase Monster Porn actually means "Obsessed with Monsters" NOT "Sex with Monsters". It is Monster Erotica, which means "Sex with Monsters".

Ever seen the movie Nightmare on Elm Street. THAT is Monster Porn. So isn't Saw. And The Human Centipede. Best Monster Porn movie ever made: Phantom of the Opera staring Robert Englund.

Ever seen the movie Twilight? That is Monster Erotica for kids. 50 Shades of Grey is Monster Erotica featuring a male Human in place of the monsters.

If heads ain't rolling and blood ain't covering EVERYTHING: It ain't Monster Porn. In written form the genre is called Monster Porn, when made into a movie it's called Gorn for Gory Porn.

While Monster Erotica is a subgenre of Erotica, Monster Porn is a subgenre of SplatterPunk Horror.

Monster Erotica has happily ever afters with the girl marring her monster lover and having lots half-breed babies.

Monster Porn ends with the girl losing her head and the monster eating her entrails after brutally fucking her to death.

While Monster Erotica ALWAYS has high heat level sex, Monster Porn may or may not have sex and the sex scenes can range from mild to wild. Monster Erotica is more likely to follow standard typical sex fetishes (BDSM, spanking, knotting with ropes, etc), while Monster Porn is more likely to have freaked out fantasy fetishes (barbed penises, fanged vaginas, monsters with 2 or 3 dicks, tentacles, knotting with long penises that can be tied in knots, etc.)

Also, Monster Erotica is unlikely to feature rape or murder scenes. Monster Porn is highly likely to have outright rape going on and the human party is HIGHLY likely to be killed and eaten by the monster after sex is over.

Monster Erotica almost never has blood, guts, or violence. Monster Porn has a HIGH level of grizzly medieval style torture, and lots of slasher flick style blood, guts, and gore being splattered on the pages.

Monster Porn is violent. Monster Erotica is not.

MOST Monster Erotica can be found on Amazon.

MOST Monster Porn is BANNED by Amazon and is NOT available on Amazon. It is VERY DIFFICULT to sell Monster Porn on Amazon and most authors of it, are stuck with posting it as free reads on FanFic .net or their own blog, or selling pdfs off their own website, or having local print shops print up chapbooks to sell through underground sex fetish shops.

People who are only just jumping on the bandwagon are quick to think Monster Porn and Monster Erotica are the same thing. They are not. Monster Porn has been around for centuries. Monster Erotica is a new genre that was created by Virgina Wade less then a decade ago.

Know the difference between Monster Porn and Monster Erotica. And know that I write Monster Porn NOT Monster Erotica.

While you can use this book to write Monster Erotica, this book is about Monster Porn.

How does this week's sales so far compare to other weeks? It's a pretty typical week. $35 to $75 a week is what I see most of the year, with sale fluctuating between books. My slow weeks (usually in December to March) typically run to $12 to $35 a week, while my busy weeks (usually in late September to mid-November) typically run to $75 to $150 a week. My biggest week of the year is always the week leading up to Halloween. Monster Porn sales go through the roof in late October, the closer it gets to Halloween and can bring in as much as $600 that one week. So you can see what I mean when I say sales go up and down throughout the year. There's a big difference between $12 one week and $600 the next. Monster Porn is not an income you can rely on to be stable or steady. It goes up and down all year long.

Topics can affect sales by the time of year. For example Contemporary Romance sells best (for me) in February, just before Valentine's Day. Mermen stories sell best in July and August. Monsters do best in October. I don't know if it's the same for other authors or not, so your results may vary.

Most short story authors I've talked to, report fewer then 3 sales a week per title and a total income across all titles combined of under $50 a month. I am making more in 3 days, then the average short story author reports making in 30 days.

Most Bizarro authors I've talked to, report fewer then 3 sales a month per title and a total income across all titles combined of under $10 a month. I am making more in 1 day, then the average Bizarro author reports making in 30 days. Still think you are going to become a millionaire by writing Monster Porn?

I'm sorry if this bursts your bubble, but the reality of the matter is, not many authors writing Monster Porn are making anything close to minimum wage. I'm considered to be one of the higher paid Monster Porn authors and, my income is only a little bit above minimum wage. A few, very few, (you can count their names on 1 hand) are, like Virginia Wade, making huge amounts of money. A few more, maybe a dozen or so, are (like myself) making a part-time minimum wage income. Most (hundreds of authors) are lucky if their Monster Porn top $200 in a single year.

You can dream of becoming the next Virginia Wade, sure, but don't come into Monster Porn, expecting instant success and overnight huge sales. There just are not enough readers of this genre to support an author on nothing but Monster Porn.

I've asked most of the Monster porn authors out there, why it was they only ever wrote 2 or 3 Monster Porn and then went back to regular human on human Erotica, and in every case, they reported: Monster Porn was harder to write then they thought, the reviewers were slaughtering their books, and sales were down the toilet.

Monster Porn is not easy to write unless you have a good working knowledge of mythology (reviewers will tear your book to shreds if you get the mythology wrong) and, it doesn't sell as well as urban myth would have you believe. You REALLY gotta love this genre enough to write a LOT of it, in order to make a livable career income out of it.

The short of it is, that if you are not screaming fangirl love for sex with monsters from the rooftops, you really are not going to enjoy writing Monster Porn enough to write more then 2 or 3 volumes of it.

You remember, that I said I write LOTS of genres: 30+? Well, this is why. My primary genre is Bizarro with a heavy focus on it's sub-genres: Monster Porn and Weird Horror, but I also write Science Fiction, Fantasy, Westerns, Romance, etc, because I have bills to pay. I write Monster Porn because it is the thing I love to write. I write other genres to pay the bills.

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