Dearest Miss Angela:

I saw you online today in the early afternoon hours and by the time I grabbed my credit card and other necessary accoutrements, you were busy and then after an hour or some, away.

I kept checking the whole afternoon and into the later hours to no avail.  Craving a connection with you (however fleeting — I was desperate for you, beloved Mistress) I started reading your entries and stories and clicking on the links on your pages, and I ended up in  Secrets in Lace

How did I — pervert, pornography lover, pleasure addict — not know of this site?  I couldn’t help myself, and began to masturbate so furiously and insanely that I came all over my pants and onto the floor.  Even this did not sate my desire for you, but still you were not availabe.  And so I ripped off my pants.  And even being  on the wrong side of 40, I immediately started masturbating again, groaning with absolutely no control over my senses. I came again, raw and wet and sticky, panting, covered in sweat, my arm cramped, my cock shriveled up, blue and pink happy.  And the first thing I thought was: I wish I could speak with Angela; I wish I could go again.

Secrets in Lace is the most amazing site ever, and I would never have found it if not for you.  I think I’m going to buy their stuff just so that I can touch it. For a lingerie and vintage fetishist like me, this is where and when every nerve ending in my body and every sense is enveloped in a feeling of completeness, of perfection, of pure joy. All senses overwhelmed, dazzled by the shine of pantyhose, the tight and soft texture of garter belts, the sound of my fingers sliding on a camisole, the taste of a nipple getting harder and darker behind a demi-cup bra, the smell of a woman’s flower getting wetter and opening itself for me under an open-bottom girdle.  Even now, thinking about these things, I find myself once again aroused.

I am begging you to find time for me tomorrow because I do need you so very much.  The reason?  I want to take one of the fantasies you’ve been gently urging me to explore a step further.  I don’t know where it will take me, and I don’t know if I have the courage to go there.   Only with your guidance and reassurance do I dare breach that door.  Strange – every woman I’ve ever had sex with has told me at one time or another that I’m the most uninhibited guy they ever met.  Would they appreciate the irony of my needing you to force my boundaries?

I’ve often told you that even I am amazed that I’ve shared so much with you.  I’ve expressed desires and hungers with you that I’ve never shared with with any woman, be she someone I have a real-time sexual relationship with or a Phone Sex Operator/Fantasy Girl.  The truth is that any other phone-fantasy girl pales and wilts in comparison to you.  Yet I have been frozen for weeks in this place, facing the door I dare not open.

But here I am and I understand that I will have to make a major leap of faith in myself, and go forward just trusting you.  I want to open that door, and see what that room is like.  There is absolutely no one whose instincts I trust as much as I trust yours. Although my heart is palpitating with fear, I know that with both your decisive skill and superior intellect I will be in the best of hands.  And so I am reaching out to you, waiting for you to take my hand.  Waiting for you to let loose your transcendent imagination and walk me into that room.  That room that holds both my desires and fears.  Desires you’ve patiently nurtured until now they loom across my sexual psyche and can no longer be ignored. 

Desires you’ve created in a room you’ve created for this man you’ve created.  And I adore you for it.

Telling you that you are the finest and the best is just proof of the limitations of language. There aren’t words for you.  Perfect? Not enough. Deliciously and wickedly delightful?  Not even close.  A spinning Dervish of sexual imagination and willingness to explore?  Close, but still not quite there.

You are YOU.  There is no other.

Thank you, Mr. N

Co-Education
by Jeremy Edwards

________________________________________________________

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

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

You Can Keep Good Man Down

At least sometimes.

While we will be getting to Romantic Humiliation presently, let’s start here: If you’re not familiar with Erotic Humiliation as a subdivision of Female Domination, well you just might be missing something. Remember the Golden Rule of Kink: He who fucks with glass condoms shouldn’t throw stones. (Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it. Or even if you have.)

Before you get yourself worked into some superior kink-tizzy, let me tell you something: I did not come to Erotic Humiliation easily nor with any willingness to even learn about it. Even lil’ me has been rejected by a lover or two and I just couldn’t get my head or heart around inflicting (what I perceived as) emotional pain upon another human being. This was not domination to my then way of thinking–this was some warped version of meritless and pointless abuse; a bizarre, convoluted circumstance of reverse misogyny.

But a most interesting thing began happening with my gentlemen submissives. Their fantasies were evolving. For while they still craved and appreciated my tried and true verbal counsel to take my strap-on up their asses, worship my cunt, suck large cocks, wear my panties, submit to cuckolding, and so much more, they now wanted me to escalate the rush with name calling, sneering, spitting and even public embarrassment. They wanted to HEAR their domination and many times even yearned for others to witness it.

And guess what? Once I tried it, I was hooked. I fell in love with the entire game of it. After all I am and always have been since I was knee high to a grasshopper, first and foremost, a woman of words. So I jumped right into the filthy world of FemDom Mud Slinging, where the Goddess, interestingly enough, always stays spotless. Since then, I’ve been–with that specialized group of callers–dishing out verbal venom in spades and even clubs, hearts and diamonds.

In fact, I’ve been so enthusiastic and defensive in regard to these particular fantasies that I was tapped by Gracie Passette to write about them (Erotic Humiliation is not an Oxymoron) for Sex Kitten Presents the BDSM Issue.

So there I was, business as usual, dragging those (small … always small) dicks through the mud when a new species of humiliation junkies began emerging from the primordial swill. Evolution, once again, dontcha know?

First a smattering: one here or there, then two, then three, four…Then more: Showing up on the doorstep of my virtual dungeon with their submissive tails between their legs, BUT with their hearts on their sleeves, stars in their eyes and bearing chocolates, flower bouquets, diamond rings and even wedding bands. They wanted to be loved and adored and treasured and cherished by–and many times even married to–the very same girl who was going to kick their psychological asses.

And who better for the task? Giggle.

Make no mistake about it: Erotic Humiliation and Romantic Humiliation are not one and the same. Erotic humiliation is edgier, crueler and inflicted in a cold, even haughty, manner. The Mistress or Princess or Goddess usually exhibits very little emotional connection to her victim. If she does reveal any affection, it is more along the lines of what someone would show toward a favorite pet. This occurs more often with the Princess type of Erotic Humiliation fantasies, which is perfectly understandable if you consider the obvious dynamics involved when an oft-times older man is obeisant to a young and usually immature but charmingly bratty Princess.

With Romantic Humiliation there is commonly a deep love and respect shared by the Dominant and Submissive. The wife or girlfriend values and even cherishes her loved one’s intelligence, sense of humor, devotion and other redeeming, even desired, qualities. Unfortunately, despite their emotional commitment to each other, the man just cannot deliver the goods when it comes to the sexual part of their relationship.

And being his best buddy and soul mate, this woman has no choice but to continually, yet very gently and lovingly, remind him of his inadequacy. Otherwise he might forget or pretend differently, which could cause him all sorts of problems. And, after all, honesty is the best policy–particularly between two people who love each other. Right?

Ahem.

Some examples? Sure, why not?

• Darling Frank. Please Honey. Don’t try to rub that flaccid thing on me. You know you can’t sustain an erection for any length of time and you’ll just end up frustrated. And I hate seeing you like that.. Why don’t you put it away for now?
• Now what are you doing? Looking at pornography again? Baby, what do you plan on doing with that little hard-on? There is no possible way you can satisfy me or any woman with your little wee wee. We’ve discussed it time an again, Aaron. Why look at those huge cocks servicing all those beautiful girls? It will just upset you. Now come over to the chair and I’ll let you rub it on my foot for a little bit. That will make you feel better.
• Carl, darling. Come sit by me; I have something to talk to you about. This isn’t going to be easy, Angel, and I want you to know that I say it because I love you with all of my heart. Remember when the pool boy was here the other day? And he had on those tight spandex shorts? You were watching him through the window and all of a sudden you got an erection. And I have to say, my love, that it was stiffer than any erection you’ve ever had when you were fucking me. You do know that, don’t you? You wanted to suck his cock, didn’t you?
• Oh, Joseph, do you need to ejaculate again? How can those little peanuts of yours fill up so fast? I guess because they’re so tiny. When I think about Tyson and how full and hard those big black balls get right before he pumps his load into me… Well, there simply is no comparison. Go get your cum cup and I’ll jerk you off into it. Okay? Would you like that, sweetie? Then we can go out to dinner and a movie.
• Honey, you can hump me through my panties, but hurry up. You know that Sarah and I are going shopping for shoes. It’s so cute when you squirt your little goo goo on them. While you are doing that, I am going to call Sarah. You just go right ahead. Hello, Sarah? Of course you can come over now. Robert was just, well, you know! I’ll hurry him up. It never takes him long anyway. Just a little squirt and he’s done.

So, do you kinda-sorta get the picture?

If you’re an intrigued female just dying to give this a whirl, I would advise that you don’t try this at home, unless your lover/husband/boyfriend has been forewarned–because while it can be extremely hot, all parties need to know the game rules. And guess what? I do believe there is a very real chance that said loved one might actually surprise you with his enthusiasm.

And if you’re a guy reading this who’s suddenly found the room sweltering and you had to loosen your collar? Silly Wabbit, what are you waiting for? Give me a call, why dontcha?

xo, Angela