venerdì 29 maggio 2009

Ah, summer...

The scents and flavors...

Some of you may be familiar with my sensibility toward scent from here or here. It is a powerful sense and each season has its own scent signature. Summer has its unique fragrances from roses to BBQs. Combine scent with the sense of taste and you have spice, a potent recipe for the departure on an erotic excursion from which you may never recover your senses.

On July 26th I’ll be taking you on an exotic journey into the realm of Ginger.

Join these other wonderful purveyors of provocative pungence for a round the world tour on the spice trail. We’ll be grinding out sensual tales on each of these summer Sundays on each of these subjects:

5/31 Opening ceremonies with Donna George Storey
6/7 Hot chili powder - Erobintica
6/14 Cilantro - Neve Black
6/21 Cumin - Sommer Marsden
6/28 Cinnamon - Kirsten Monroe
7/5 Thyme - J.M. Stone
7/12 Pepper - Craig Sorensen
7/19 Dill - Jeremy Edwards
7/26 Ginger - Isabel Kerr
8/2 Basil - Marina St. Clare
8/9 Rosemary - Cerulean
8/16 Poppy seeds - Emerald
8/23 Salt - P.S: Haven
8/30 Gala Goodbye of a yet undisclosed orgiastic nature at Donna George Storey’s

venerdì 15 maggio 2009

This will make you laugh

I wrote this for one of Alison Tyler's fabulous contests way back when I was still actually writing something, and I've been working on putting it up for a few days to lighten things up a bit, but it takes me forever to get all the pieces of a post together, and then I read this! Magic. The Amazing Alison.


“Is this position ok?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder as she stretched out on her side on the platform like some odalisque.

“Yeah, that’s good. Turn your head a little more toward me. Whoa! Stop, that’s enough. ” She’s fucking gorgeous.Look at those tits.

“Have you ever modeled before?”

“No, no, I haven’t. I’m a little nervous actually,” she said.

Huh, trying to make excuses for those ballistic nipples.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re doing great. Just a sec, I gotta get my tools.”

I gotta fist this dick.Thank God she can’t see me from that position.

“Let’s see, where is that 4B? Uh! Here it is, ugh, uh, there we go, uh, got it.”

“That sounded like hard work.”

“Yeah, it was way down at the bottom.”

“Uppah, ok, let’s get to work.” Almost there baby, almost there, don’t turn around. Let’s get the head outta there and let this thing go.

“Oh, shit!” Never know where that stuff’s gonna hit.

“What’s the matter?”

“Pffff. Nothing! Just broke the lead. Ok, let’s start over.”

lunedì 4 maggio 2009


Hm. I’ve been lurking here, there, and everywhere, and
lurving it. I met a deadline with a story that may not have been what was called for, but it was the story I had to write. Do you know that feeling? And otherwise I have been reading and writing this:

May Flowers

I take this road
I know its twists
And turns
Cherry blossoms blink
On distant hillsides
As the dead of winter recedes
From my memory
Honesty prevails
Deep violet bearded iris sprung
Forthright from the banks
Warm scented Erica looms
Pungent narcissus
Raises its ugly head
Crimson Clover shoots
Dark magenta Judas blossom
On black bark
Pallid lilac wisteria
Wild flowers
And expectations
To be assuaged
With summer warmth
Love may never take
This road

Straight piece of flowery poetry right? Nah, it’s a love poem and a sex poem. I don't usually like to put images in readers' minds but keeping in mind that I see, hear, smell, sex everywhere, I thought I might take a moment to give you a little peek at the workings of my poetry.

This road, my life, my loves, have been twisted and turned.

Cherry blossoms blink, there is light, hope in the distance after winter during which I feel dead or worse.

Honesty, is a fuchsia spring wild flower that grows in profusion on the roadside, and something I strive to be with myself and appreciate in others, even if it’s painful.

Deep violet bearded iris sprung, if you picture that image you can imagine what I am thinking of, and it can be of either sex.

Forthright, is a principle I want to uphold in relationships and appreciate in others.

Warm scented Erica, is tree heather which grows on banks above the road and to which I have often alluded in the sense of a sweet musky scented lover hovering.

Pungent narcissus smells like cat piss to me in addition to alluding to the complex.

Crimson clover, is an erect red spear headed flower, imagine that.

Dark magenta Judas blossom, on black bark is a flowering tree, but also a general reference to painful betrayal, nothing specific, just the pain.

The perfumed pallid lilac wisteria always grounds me with its humble soothing sexy beauty.

These spring wild flowers perennially reassure me that all is not lost, that my (too high) expectations may not be met, but that emotional pain will be assuaged, and that summer warmth, which I love, will temper my mood twists and turns, and though that sense of being head over heels in love may never take this road again, at this stage in my life, the flowers come back, the warmth returns.

Summer's coming, there is hope.