 | On your knees NOW, boy!Monday, June 7th, 2010 |
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photo credit: Tales from Tanya
Archive for the 'KinKergarten' Category
| What’s a Victorian Boy To Do?Thursday, June 3rd, 2010 |
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| Exclusive Erotic QuickieSaturday, February 20th, 2010 |
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Co-Education
by Jeremy Edwards
The supplementary co-ed bathroom at the far end of Janice’s dorm floor was the next best thing to a private hotel room. Phil loved slipping in there with Janice for late-night sex in the stall nearest the door–the stall that featured a bathtub instead of a toilet. They’d yet to be disturbed here.
"Mmm, your fingers feel so good," Janice said at 1 a.m. on a Thursday night, as Phil teased the slick lips of her pussy with his warm, soapy digits.
Suddenly, the bathroom door creaked open. And through the gap between the stall door’s hinges, Phil and Janice were able to see who had entered, catching a fleeting glimpse of her as she walked by: chestnut hair, a yummy midriff, and tight, round jeans.
"Oh, wow," said Phil in his lover’s ear. "It’s that hot chick from our French lit class." He and Janice had talked about her before. Janice liked hearing Phil talk about the women he found attractive.
As he spoke, they heard a stall door slam. Feet appeared in the cubicle next to them.
"Whoa–her jeans are down," Phil whispered. A moment later, as a pretty splashing noise reverberated off the tile walls, he continued: "Oh my god, she’s peeing."
"Duh, Phil," hissed Janice, her voice evidently holding back laughter.
"What did you think went on in here?"
"I know, I know . . . but, wow, without any pomp or circumstance . . ."
"You thought girls made a speech first?"
The lovely tinkling sound continued.
"It just seems too good to be true. That women come in here and they actually pull their pants down and piss, just like that. They really do it." Somehow a part of him had expected the world around him to fade to black rather than really showing him this.
"Phil, you goofball–it’s what she came in here to do."
"Oh, fuck, yeah. I know, I know," he repeated blissfully.
The peeing music finally abated, and the woman in the next stall sighed sexily. Then she giggled. "It sounds from the whispers like there are two of you in that tub," she called out. "I hope I didn’t disturb you."
"Not at all," groaned Phil, as Janice pulled firmly on his hard, hard cock.
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If you’re a regular reader, you will remember my dear writer-friend Jeremy Edwards AKA Jerotic. It’s been a while, but if you liked this charming bit of erotica … well, plug Jerotic or Jeremy Edwards into the search box and you’ll find him here and there along with THIS STORY. Because I’ve been a fan since day one … and you should be too. Sweetness and naughtingess and sexiness and kink and playfulness and seduction and — me oh my — how does somebody get it so right? Every single time?
Like any self-respecting smut-provocateur Jeremy gets around, gleefully spreading the very good news that "it’s good to be bad." I don’t have to tell you that this is a philosophy I wholeheartedly embrace, now do I? And, apparently, so do lotsa goodly and smartly erotica writers and fans, ‘cuz their all jumping for joy wherever and whenever Jerotic shows up. Just read what they have to say, why dontcha?
Best news of all? Our dear and most appreciated Jerotic has published his first erotic novel, ROCK MY SOCKS OFF. You can read more about this book and purchase it HERE. Go ahead, click that link; don’t be shy.
For up-to-the-minute news (announcements, links, & trivia re. All Things Jerotic), visit and bookmark From Socks To Fedora. And stay tuned to this blog, because I intend to sweet-talk my most-cherished Jeremy out of many more hot stories for this blog.
xo, Angela
| Billy Spanks it with a PSOFriday, February 5th, 2010 |
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| WMD (Yours)Sunday, January 31st, 2010 |
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Pink High Heel Shoes
by Dónall Dempsey
I remember drinking
pink champagne
from your pink
high heel shoes
I remember making love
with you wearing only your pink
high heel shoes
I remember
how your pink high heel shoes
became candleholders
ashtrays
(where you stashed your hash)
deadly weapons
in a row
& you ask me
do I remember
your pink high heel shoes?
Do I?
I do!
________________________________
You bet he remembers. And remembers. And remembers.
I find this poem uber sexy, since I have a thing for high heels and happen to own a few pairs of pink high heels. If you don’t get it, just think about it.
Think about lying dark in a cool room. Naked, your hands to your side …. your eyes closed as you’re Mistress/lover has instructed. Hearing the door open, the click, click, click of her heels on the hardwood floor. I think you can take it from there.
And if you can’t? You need to call me ASAP! *wink*
Mr. Donall can be found here and keeps a blog here. Listen to and watch a Poetry Reading here.
Thanks to PQS for sending this uber sexy poem my way … he does indeed know what I like.
xo, Angela
