The deluge of online porn is like air pollution, a man-made artifact evidencing a selfish nature. Erotica is respite from the choking ram-a-jam virtuality that drowns the finer points of sex∞love in raw rasterized two-dimensional reductions of our richer selves a/k/a stupid ass selfies. Everywhere you search you see the hole-pole Hodge-podge of porn scum. The only antidote to smut is sex-positive push-back by many more of us and more frequently. Sexotic language entices you to ponder the more complicated elements of submission and permission, slower roasted thus fuller bodied. As is shown in the sample below: we see action, motive, context and outcome in a tidy package of language. Think deeply about your longings and see what it does to your feelings.
KATHLEEN K. BOOKS MILESTONE: The Lunarium was Named to Kirkus Reviews’ Best of 2013 which is a great distinction for an indie author-publisher. Kirkus Reviews has been assessing books for eighty years and has earned a reputation for toughness. Kirkus will be naming the next crop for The Best of 2014 in a few weeks and I wish all the contenders good luck. I thought I’d commemorate being notified last year around this time by tossing ten free copies into the rowdier reader pool at GoodReads.com
The Lunarium GiveAway Share the link – Valid until 11/30/2014
The Lunarium is a collection of sixty-nine vignettes of voyeurism entitled and enumerated as Things. It is not about creepy peeping, it is an inside look at the hidden world of exhibitionism.
SAMPLE – For Adults Only
The Thirty-Ninth Thing >< Her First, Then Me, Said She
I am at the Slick Cat Club, far from my home and my real world. I’m advantageously seated near the stage so I can catch every juice detail. Mr. and Mrs. Performance Couple are plain ordinary people, her tummy sags a bit, his ass is soft. They are healthy and these human individualities make her outstanding breasts and his long fat dick all the more appealing. I’m not paying enough attention to what they are saying so I pick up in mid-monolog.
“I want you to trust me, Bob. I understand what you want – a taste of something different. You’re loyal as hell, aren’t you? You don’t want to hurt my feelings by admitting how often you wonder about other women. It’s OK. I’m not mad about it. I’d be mad if you lied about it, so don’t. Tonight we’re really putting on a show: allow me to introduce my stage assistant: Missy. Missy is appearing courtesy of her man, he’s here watching. She’s going to rub up against you, you don’t mind that, do you, Bob? She’s young and firm, close your eyes and remember when we felt like that. Go ahead, put your arms around her. She even smells fresh, doesn’t she? Now, Bob, I’ve known you a long time. I want you to relax, indulge yourself. You deserve it, after all, you’ve been faithful and fair. As have I. So this is for us. That’s right, Bob, pull up her blouse and lick her tender titties. Close your eyes and listen to me, Bob. Missy’s a dream for you from me. And that’s a powerful love. The kind of love I believe you feel for me. So you would surely agree that I might have some longings of my own, I might want to break out too. Maybe a young cock would feel to me like that young cunny does to you. If you had a hand buried between her legs, you wouldn’t mind if Missy’s man put his hand between mine… right? You’d know when you feel her twitch that I’m twitching too. I do understand what you want and why you want it.”
Missy and her man were as ordinary as Mr. and Mrs. Performance Couple, they did, however, offer the vigor of prime. Missy was raven-haired and her light pink nipples drew my eye. In spite of the fact the puffy centers stretched big, somehow I thought of them as inexperienced, little-used, that every suck on them would be daring. I refused to focus on her tight twat, the idea of fingering her made my hands clench. If I was as close to her as Bob was, I’d be able to get one hand on both butt cheeks which literally jiggled when she moved, a derriere to adore.
I admired Mrs. Couple, she was simultaneously Mr. Couple’s fantasy and nightmare. She could give him another woman to make love to, and she could make love to another man. Why is it so many cheaters think they are the only one of the pair with runaway thoughts? Can’t both sides have the same mix of desires: to be safe, to have fun, to live, to have a home from which to roam. Mr. Couple was a little rusty, he made a few wrong moves until he fit himself to Missy. He seemed distracted, looking over his shoulder at his wife being pronged by a long-haired blue-eyed biker. Missy’s boyfriend was in leathers, his fly was open to let out his rowdy cock and balls (it was more of a flap, Mrs. Couple could screw herself right down against his bare groin). Even with this arresting sight behind him, Mr. Couple’s hands were stroking Missy, up under her arm, behind her elbow, over the torso, into the dark. He peeled her pussy lips apart and slid up against Missy’s opening. Never taking his eyes off his wife, he prodded Missy with his cock. We could see him making headway, we all understood why he had to pull out even though it was the last thing any of us wanted to see. One step forward, two steps back; the deeper in he was pushing, the farther out he was pulling. Thus deeper to thrust on his return. You do keep going forward, one measure at a time. I don’t know where his mind was but his prick was deep in Missy, her hips were dipping in a limber way I can’t describe but do admire.
Encore! The couples righted themselves and while Missy and her man did a beautiful background version of Two Youths A’Fucking; Mr. Couple got up behind Mrs. Couple and cracked her butt in front of everybody. She was so wet from being with another man that he could lubricate himself sufficiently to slip his dick in the back door. We were not surprised, once we saw it, because even as she dared him to accept her as a complete female he was rising to a complete maleness she found exciting. Mr. Couple might have been on vacation with Missy but there was no doubt he was at home with Mrs. Couple.
#polyandry #Lunarium #voyeur