Feb 09

Dr. J.’s Collaborations

I enjoy week’s where I collaborate with other writers.

This week I had three such adventures.
First, Nick Tanek asked me to suggest authors who would answer questions about BDSM erotica. I looked to my Sister in Smut, Mischa Eliot, and my Wicked Pens Colleague, Nia Farrell for their specific thoughts. What I appreciate about Nick’s perspective is that he works in a supportive community. That is an essential theme for my fellow authors and me. We work to build each other up. Check out what got covered in Nick’s blog this week.

Our BDSM Erotica Author Friends by Nicolas Tanek

Second, I picked the Top Three entries for Wicked Wednesday this week. The theme was Rainbow. Go read the 21 posts I read and see what your choices are. Mine will be up tomorrow on their website.

Wicked Wednesday Prompt #297: Rainbow.

Last, exciting things happening on my home front. My sisters in smut, Mischa Eliot, and Oleander Plume are working up a LIVE meet. We began creating plans for them to come to sunny Florida to distract them from large amounts of snow. When this event occurs, I hope time stands still so I can savor every moment. We are considering the numerous pictures we could organize to document our time together. The other exciting part is who else nearby may join us.


Jan 30

Fire Dance

Those leather bindings got my brain going with this week’s picture on Masturbation Monday. I shared them with Macy and Todd. Here is their episode three. Start from the beginning with The Calendar Man.

Who the hell was this woman?

I undressed, heeding Macy’s words.

“Todd, where’s your bedroom?”

I nodded toward the hall. She gathered her bag and some of her items.

“Be ready, when I call you.”

Ready. Ready for what?

“I figure the further away I am from you, means you can get the cock rings on. Both of them. And then, I’m binding your balls.”

Like that idea didn’t make me hard. I stared into the kitchen to defocus and soften my stiff dick. It took a few minutes, but with enough lube, I got the silicone and the metal ring on my cock.

“Walk this way, big boy.”

The minute I heard her commanding voice, I got hard, again. I strutted down the hall like I was going into a fire. I would take what she had to give me and leave it all there.

Holy hell. Macy had changed clothes. I could never see her in her yoga outfit after this view. Leather straps pulled and twisted around her breasts, down her middle and strapped around her legs. I’d seen no one trussed up this way before.

“Nice antique metal bed frame, Todd. This bell-shaped footboard will make a great prop. You’ll look good with it as your backdrop for dancing.”


“Yeah, a little fire dance. Can’t you feel it in your balls? Ah, you can’t. I haven’t bound them yet.” She walked around me and swatted my ass with her crop. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Safe word?”


“You have done this before. Well, that is a tasty treat. Papaya it is. Now rest your arms on top that tall footboard and hold tight.” The cold metal bit into my skin the way I knew her work with that crop would.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She nailed me with her gaze and smiled. “I’m not that strict. Call me M.”

“Yes, M.”

“Have you experienced a crop before?”

“Yes, M.”

“You like the pain for pleasure don’t you, Todd?”

“Yes, M.”

“Good, I will get started.” She dragged the head of the crop down my skin.  It skimmed along seducing me, and pleasure emerged on her face. M. flicked her wrist and struck my nipple.  I relished the sting on my skin and the satisfaction on her face.

“The spice you were looking for, Todd?”

“Yes, M.”

“If it’s more than you can take, Papaya it is.”

“Yes, M.”

“Let’s get this fire dance going.”

She bent down and twisted the silicone band binding my balls, and I rose on my toes. The resulting tightness was familiar and precisely what I had hoped. This was how I experienced my chest when I raced into a fire. But from my crotch, it would expand throughout my body easily. Would she allow me the release to feel it spread?

“I’ll make it good, Todd.” She must have read my mind.

She swatted me in the perfect places on my body and then stroked my cock and strangled balls. My pulse got larger and louder.

“Hold off as long as you can, Todd. We want a big finish.”

As I clutched the bed frame, my feet danced moving back and forth responding to her snaps. My chest was as tight as my boys below. M. had established a rhythm, just like in yoga class. I dropped into it and followed her lead. I wailed and grunted. I tasted my searing heat and smelled fiery arousal in the room. When I thought I couldn’t dance to it anymore, she cleared her throat.

“I’ve wanted my mouth on you ever since your stage performance. Let me have it, Todd.” With one last swat, I erupted. M rewarded me with her hot mouth and warm tongue taking my fire. She tongued the metal ring, pumping and pulling my cock until I was spent. I slumped against the bedframe. She pressed her body against mine, grating her leather against my skin imprinting me with one last gesture.

“Let’s get on the bed? I need to see my work. I love marks.”

“I want the rings off, too.”

After I plopped on the bed, M sat on my thighs and gently removed the cock rings. She planted a kiss on my cock.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d go for this Todd. All those days watching you in yoga got me riled up.”

“If I’d known this was a possibility, I’d have been more direct.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I didn’t pick up on these vibes.”

Macy chuckled. “I might not have planned this, if not for your stage dance. I’ve enjoyed how all the dancing parts played out.”

“Now you know I like to play with fire. If you are considering a more permanent dance partner, M., I’m your guy.”

“We could set up a practice schedule and go over our favorite steps.”

“Name the time and place, and I’m there.”

“You’re on, Todd.”

“But M, for now, you had some other items we could play with.” I waggled my brow.  “And if you want my fire gear, I have some games for you to play too.”


And for other smutty Monday goodness. Hop over to Masturbation Monday, check out the pic and read away.


Jan 26

Five Takeaways from my Sexuality Week

My 2018 has started out on a roll. Here at the end of the week, I have several new things going on and I wanted to share.

Check out the author, Nicholas Tanek‘s work. He and I are Twitter friends. I made a contribution to his blog.


I’ve changed my Facebook group to Dr. J.’s Pleasure Platform. Please join us!



I will be hosting a LIVE event there next Tuesday. Check it out.










The lovely Oleander Plume reviewed Best Women’s Erotica of the Year Volume 3. You can read her glowing words on her blog.

And lastly, I have a teaser trailer for Forever Tattooed. I hope you enjoy it. Click here to purchase the book. bit.ly/ForeverTattooed


Jan 24

My Pleasure Platform

Last Saturday night, I took part in a wild interview for Consensually Speaking with Gio. My Sisters in Smut, Mischa Eliot, Oleander Plume shined. And at the end, we all made parting comments. I said, “I have a pleasure platform, and I’m going to use it.”

Did I issue an imperative for myself?

What did I mean?

How did that fit for us erotica writers? It caused me to reflect on the picture below. I created it several months ago. This idea must have been sitting in my subconscious, but I hadn’t considered it this way.

Pleasure Platform Defined

At posting time, this will be my 101st blog post. Given that, I’m excited that I’m addressing this concept. So, what is my pleasure platform? Let me break it down into parts.

As defined by dictionary.com, it is this:

Pleasure: enjoyment or satisfaction derived from what is to one’s liking; gratification; delight

Platform: a body of principles on which a person or group takes a stand in appealing to the public.

As discussed on the show, we all come to our expressions of sexuality based on our life experiences, family values, and education. Those things have shaped how we each express our pleasure platforms. I appreciate that Gio supports our trio and sees we have something special going on. In fact, during our interview, we celebrated our joint Pleasure Platforms in the style we use and with a lot of laughter. You’ll hear it when the show airs on February 12.

Pleasure Platform Collaboration

The Sisters in Smut work daily in collaborating on pleasure. First, given we all write erotica, we concentrate on the experience of pleasure through the written word, for us as writers along with our readers. That is a common thread. We provide each other feedback on our erotica, what’s hot, what’s not. Whether in our Twitter DM’s, text messages or emails, we are sharing our stuff.

Personal Pleasure Platform.

Second, this platform is us, the trio, the heart of the Sisters in Smut. We enjoy each other, how we communicate, interact, and converse.  A giant ball of light sweetness defines our Sisters in Smut energy. Picture a giant rainbow cotton candy minus the aching teeth.

We connect every day.

We play cheerleader, best friend, wise counsel and crazy life distracter when needed.

We anchor each other from our own lives, too.

From three different places in the States, we send gifts and trinkets to each other. Colored bands for jewelry or hair, beautiful stone necklaces, autographed books with touching words of love and support. When the three of us share our items, we share our energy and passion.

In a real Pleasure Platform, this positive energy is essential. We build each other up as strong women and as strong writers. We each work to be fearless. We experience each other’s goodness. We each support accepting our likes, naming what we want, and creating boundaries.

Say, yes.

Say, no.

Grow a solid-self through your sexuality. That’s what each of us has done, and on our life’s mission, somehow, we found each other. I’m not sure how, but we did. And now we are full steam ahead.

Transforming My Pleasure Platform.

Historically, I provided a pleasure platform through one-on-one therapy or classroom education. I take my sexuality education training seriously, and I draw on it while I hone a new form, erotic romance or erotica focused on pleasure. Today it is about creating a place where you, the reader, can experience pleasure through stories.

Through this original work, I’ve made new friends, of readers, and authors. Community. That is what I have here and you can, too. I hope you’ll drop in regularly and see what I offer. I hope you feel the permission to be in this sexual space.

Mainly, I hope that here and everywhere you can “delight” in the principles of “positive sexuality” which help you find and love yourself in your everyday life, while you go forward to create your Pleasure Platform

Check out my playmates: Mischa, Oleander, and Gio.

And more specifically:

Mischa Eliot’s Pleasure Platform

Oleander Plume’s Pleasure Platform


Jan 16

Catch Dr. J. Reading Her Erotica

Last week I was a guest on the Rob and Slim Show. We had thirty minutes of sexy repartee about my sex therapy world, online dating, and being sex-positive.

Ending the interview, I read an excerpt from my story “Infused Leather” from Best Women’s Erotica of the Year Volume 3, published by Cleis Press and edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel.

Take a look at the guys on YouTube while you Listen. Click Here:

The Rob and Slim Show Interview with Dr. J.

Jan 09

A Firefighter’s Date

Last week I started the new year off with a story created from a photo that I called festive lights. This week Kayla Lords added a hot dick pick and it seemed to move last week’s story along. Please start at the beginning by reading The Calendar Man.

“I am not chicken.”

The scrunched-up lines on Macy’s face held a blend of outrage, embarrassment, and lust. So, was it the dare part that caused outrage, or was it me knowing she orgasmed in public and was embarrassed? The lust well, of course, just had to be me.

“Then you’ll have no problem allowing me to prepare dinner for you. Does Friday night, sound good? I’ll be coming off a long shift with the weekend to myself.”

I had been in this town for three months, a genuine rookie firefighter and I couldn’t get this woman, to give me the time of day. All the other women and a couple of men in yoga class gave me the once-over with a good eye-fucking, but Macy had locked it down, until today.

She gawked at me perusing the lines of my body with her eyes, and it felt like her fingers raked over me.

“Macy? Dinner?” She had that look like she was trying to wrap her head around something she couldn’t believe. “I’m a pretty good chef. My work schedule allows me the time to learn about food and other things.”

“Now you’re just toying with me. Did my sister set you up for this whole date thing?”

“Ah, I don’t know who your sister is. You and I have been mat-mates for a while now, and I’d like to get to know you better especially after the fundraiser.” I smirked a little as I raised my eyebrow.

Our discussion concluded as the instructor signaled the start of class. I hoped that by the end, Macy would have mellowed a little and give me a yes.

When class was over, I rolled up my mat and waited to see if she would answer my question. She moved through her typical end of class routine, and when she stood, her smoky-eyed quizzical look revved me up in places I was excited to visit.

“Todd, I would be pleased to have dinner with you.”

“Wow. No hard sell. Great. Give me your phone, and I’ll add my contact info.” She handed it to me.

“What time?”

“How’s 7?”

“That sounds good. Can I bring anything?”

“Lube, toys, and condoms are always good.” Those dilated eyes and pursed lips told me I’d either pushed too far or hit a sexual nerve. I hoped it was the latter. “I mean you know, only if you want to. I like white wine, too.”

“Good to know.” I handed her phone back, and we walked out of class together.

“Ok, Macy. See you on Friday.”

“Friday, it is.” I smiled and headed toward my car.

“Hey, Todd?” I turned. “I expect a special dance from you after dinner.”

Ideas flew in. Food. Fun. Dancing. Sex. What a night to plan. Did she think I was too forward with my toy interests? I guess I’d find out.

When Friday night rolled around, I was antsy, in a good way. I replayed her orgasm expressions from last week as I created the environment for our date. I had memorized her rotations by the stage, and they had been my wank fodder all week. I moved around the kitchen working on the pasta primavera dish and cutting fresh strawberries for dessert.

Moving to a new town can be difficult, especially if you were a little kinky. It was tough trying to figure out where to hang out and meet people, who were like-minded and exciting. If someone like Macy could have an orgasm in public because of me, I felt like that was a pretty good start.

The doorbell rang.  Showtime.

The woman at the door was not the woman from yoga class or the woman at the fundraiser. This Macy had a commanding presence with her makeup, style of dress, and demeanor. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but all the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“Hi, Macy. Please come in.”

“Nice place, Todd. Something smells yummy.”

“Thanks. Pasta and fruit. Can I take your coat?”

“Sure. I brought some things to add to the evening.” She held up a bag.

“So, you brought wine?”

“Ah, no. I brought lube, toys, and condoms.” My stunned expression brought a grin to Macy’s face. “And now you don’t know if I’m playing or if I’m for real, do you, Todd?”

“I’m hoping for real.”

I ushered Macy into the kitchen, opened the wine and poured our drinks. Our meal was friendly and the conversation open. After sharing the delicious strawberries, we moved to the living room sofa.

“Where’s the music, Todd? I told you, you’d be dancing.”

“I hoped for a different kind of dancing.”

“Do tell.” Macy leaned in closer to me, so close that I felt her breath on my cheek.

“How about a little horizontal bop?”

“Direct, as always, I see.”

“No sense in hiding who I am or what I want.” I took her hand and rubbed my thumb over her knuckle.

“Let me get my bag.” Macy stood and retrieved it from the coat stand. When she came back, she emptied the contents on the couch between us.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Butt plug, lube, condoms, cock rings, both silicone and metal and a crop.

“This is all for you, Todd.”

“Not much surprises me, Macy, but you have amazed me.”

I was a risk taker of the highest order, a Firefighter no less. I always put more into my sexuality. It must be a personality thing. Maybe I send off that vibe.

“Let’s see. Where shall we start? I’d like to bind your cock and balls with the silicone rings and place that lovely metal glans ring on the head of your penis I checked out last week.” She caressed my thigh. “Then you’ll be ready for a special dance just for me. My crop will serve to make the dance enticing.”

She was probably laughing at my mouth hanging open. I rarely get caught off guard. I believe heaven fell into my lap.

“Macy, you’re a fem-dom.”

“I am, and I don’t like to be kept waiting. I thought this could be a little session to check out our chemistry. Taking it slow addressing questions, comments, and concerns.”

I swallowed hard and hoped my cock would be soft enough to get those items on me. Because I wanted them on.

“Yes, ma’am. I’d love to see how we work together.”

“Clothes off, now.”

I jumped up to undress. “Todd, by chance, do you have any firefighter gear here?”

Oh, my god. Her wheels were turning. She knows I like it hot.


Read Installment #3 Fire Dance


Please go see the lovely picture that inspired the continuation of this story and read what was created this week at Masturbation Monday.


Jan 02

The Calendar Man

My phone buzzed in my hand. Tricia.

“Hey, Macy. Are you in the yoga studio?”

“I’m just leaving. Why?”

“Stop and look at the bulletin board.”

“I’m already in the car. What is it?”

“There’s a fundraiser tonight for the domestic abuse shelter. You have to go with me.”

“C’mon sis, you always drag me to the things last minute.”

“I do, but you always have fun. We’ll have another crazy sister story to tell. You’re not chicken, are you?”

I hated it when she called me that. She’s done it since we were kids. “I’m available. What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at 7:30 pm. Make sure you bring your checkbook and lots of one-dollar bills.”

“Wait, for what?”

“Um, for tipping the—”

“You’re taking me to a strip club.”

“Not exactly.”

“How not exactly?”

“There is a strip club stage, and there will be bodies to view.” She yanked my chain hard now.

“Tricia Anne Williams!”

“Okay, okay. A group of firefighters sponsors this event to make a nude calendar. They create an individual act with some holiday music and scenes. You know, like for the backdrop of their photo. The audience members select the top twelve to get on the calendar by voting with their wallet, and the top contributor to each firefighter gets a date with him.”

“When were you going to tell me all of this?”


“You weren’t going to, were you?”

“Bad cell reception. I’ll see you at 7:30 pm.”

Tricia’s usual promptness prevailed, and when I saw her caring look, all was forgiven. My older sister may make me crazy with all her schemes, but she was the most big-hearted person I know.

The entire community supported local fundraisers especially if they thought that skin would be on display. It was as much a social event as a money-maker. Tricia’s description had been accurate. The strip club had been classed up. The stripper poles were decorated. It wouldn’t matter, everyone focused on the stage to the men teasing us in their performance. Each man commanded attention, and some were more sexually provocative than others. The audience was alive as a living thing.

I laughed and yelled until the arrival of one particular man on the stage who stole my breath away.

He may have been introduced as Todd the Rod, but I knew him as the new guy from my yoga class who sprawled his mat next to me. I had lusted after him for weeks and hadn’t found the courage to speak.

As Todd appeared on stage, strands of white light dropped from the ceiling. Music blared. His costume, if you can call handheld props a costume, was art inspired. He reminded me of a male version of a burlesque dancer in a setting like the Garden of Eden or on stage in the play A Mid-Summer Night’s Dream. Erotic and seductive, he was the most forward contestant as he was naked and using his props to hide the enticing parts. And like in class, his skin glistened highlighting the detail of every visible muscle. That was my invitation to watch, and it mesmerized me.

The crowd’s whooping and hollering increased as he began to interact individually with audience members. And then he pointed his finger at me.

Hesitant, I began backing up, but the crowd would have none of it. Hands on my back pushed me forward right up to the stage. Todd’s suggestive movements hypnotized me, and my arousal grew. As it moved through my body, I tasted it in in my mouth. I had lusted after this body in every yoga class, and now I fixated on all his sexual goodness.

Todd held his prop, like a fig leaf, over his cock, moved to the edge of the stage and leaned down to my ear.

“You have to help me.” He stood and danced around the stage and then returned to me and bent over again.

“What?” I screamed.

“They bet me, the rookie, that I couldn’t get on the calendar.” The music tempo changed and he danced a jig. I laughed and gave him a thumbs-up when I had got a glimpse of his goods, and I throbbed in time with the music. This man was so at ease in his body, and he was sex on legs.

“Money. Give me some money.”

I reached into my pocket, took out some dollar bills and spewed them all at his feet. It set up a giving frenzy. The music boomed. Secured in an erotic bubble with bodies pressed up against me, a mostly naked muscle-toned man danced for me.

Todd became my masturbation aid. Yep, I imagined his gyrations meeting my body, my hips, my clit. Damn, I was buzzing. I was hot. He was hot. Fantasies of licking, tasting, and touching him ran through my mind as he moved. My body mirrored a response to every movement he made, and he grinned. I hoped that everyone else was watching him and paid no attention to me. There was no hiding my interest from him now. I licked my lips and placed my palms on the stage and danced in place as if I was his partner. I had never been so worked up. My bobbing rubbed the seam in my jeans the right way stimulating my clit. I was sure I would orgasm on the spot. Along with Todd’s toned body, his intense stare gave me things I never expected. He woke up my sexual-self. I locked my gaze on him as he brought his number to a close. When he blew me a kiss, my body shuddered, and I orgasmed on the spot. And Todd knew it.

Next week in yoga class, when Todd placed his mat beside mine, I revisited my orgasmic vibrations. As he sat on his mat stretching his long legs out in front of him, he looked as good as he did on stage.

I took a deep breath and bolstered my nerve to speak. “Congratulations, Todd. I hear you secured your spot on the calendar.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I did. I slid in at Number 12.” He bent forward stretching his arms down to his toes. I thought I might incinerate watching his muscles flex. “A wonderful fan’s donation put me over the edge.”


“You’re going to be shy, now are you?” I felt the heat of my blush running up my neck. “I’d like to thank you with a special date, Macy.”

“Hmmm.” My nervous giggle filled the room. “What did you have in mind, Todd?”

Maintaining his stretch with his hands on his ankles, he turned his head toward me. “Something private. Because if you can orgasm from eye connection, imagine what skin to skin contact and gadgets might do,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

I attempted to swallow my nerves, but my dry mouth got in the way, and my words were a whisper.

“Yes, imagine.” The room temperature rose, and I wondered if everyone heard my pulsing heart.

Todd did a twisting stretch from his waist. “You’re not chicken, are you?”


Read the next installment: A Firefighter’s Date.


My first story of the New Year combines Masturbation Monday and Wicked Wednesday Prompts. The lovely photograph of Adam provided for the MM prompt sparked the story and then, of course, I had to work in the idea of gadgets provided by Marie Rebel, sex gadgets, that is. Please click on the pics below and check out both locations to find other sexy stories.

Dec 29

Dr. J.’s 2017 Year End Review

I write this post sitting at my childhood dining room table. This month has been a bittersweet time for me. I have lost two family members and supported another during an emergency surgery. Writing has not been my number one focus for December, but I wanted to take this time to make an abbreviated update on what I have accomplished this year.


I always stop and remember December 29, 2015. That was the date my first story went out into the world. It is hard to believe that was only two years ago. In May as a founding member of Wicked Pens Writers, I helped to select our colleagues. What a wonderful group. This year my work was accepted with Bedtime Diaries, Radish Fiction, and Bellesa. I have a story in Best Women’s Erotica of the Year Volume 3 and Big Book of Submission Volume 2. I was named a Top 100 Sex Blogger of 2017. I am very proud of these accomplishments.

PEOPLE WHO HAVE MADE MY YEAR and left their mark.

Mischa Eliot, Oleander Plume, Kayla Lords, John Brownstone, The Wicked PensKink CrateProfessor Sex and Eliza David. This is my crew. Rachel Thompson has made my social media world, and I can’t thank her enough for her insights. I met sex researchers and therapists, David Ley, Michael Aaron, and Heather McPherson in NYC. I also met Romance Writer Tamara Lush, Rebecca Brooks, and writer/editor Lenora Solomon. I went to  Orlando in July and met a lovely group of new group Romance Writers on Radish that Tamara Lush introduced me to along with Radish CEO SY Lee and Editor Katherine Pelz.

The neat part of the year was meeting my fellow Wicked Pens writer, Jill Shannon in New York. Wicked Pens writer Pandora Spocks and I have met in Orlando twice. On our second get together, I introduced her to my Tallahassee and Amelia Island crowd. Meeting each one of my Wicked Pens Colleagues is on my bucket list.


I have several stories in the works: Tops and Bottoms Club for Radish. This series is a spin-off story from ‘When the Sheets Talk’, Rafe and Beth had begun including others into their sexual activities and now they begin to discover the joys of a sex club. The novella in the works is called Our Lucky Charm. It is an erotic romance sports story set at a Petanque tournament. My novel called In Deep is in draft mode. It’s about a grieving sailor, Jericho Stone who needs fast cash to save his family boat.  He takes a job making sexual fantasies come true and must work with a woman, Katja Holst intent on discovering her body’s sexual desire, so she feels worthy of a relationship.

To date, I am scheduled to attend two conferences- Amelia Island Book Festival in February and Florida Writers Conference in October.

I am excited that I have a new member to add to my team. Chasity Gosnell Mahala has agreed to be my PA. So 2018 is looking good.

As always, my locals keep me grounded. Tracie, Kristi, Heather, and Darryl along with the rest of my WIPS and Pen Ten members. Thank you for your love and support.


This new year will be very different with my house construction project finished. The first of the year will include landscaping and the creation of a petanque court in our yard. Travel will be a significant part of the year. Several trips are planned to visit friends in Orlando. I’m looking to select a river cruise in Europe. Look out Angora Shade.

Lastly, Happy New Year to all my followers and readers. I wish you the best of everything in the new year. Thank you for joining me on my journey.

Dec 04

Let the Writer’s Retreat Begin

I drove through a forest of dense hardwoods, down a two-rut road to reach my destination on the peninsula’s end. The shimmering lake waters greeted me. I pictured my friends, Heather and Darryl sitting inside the cabin working away. They had arrived two hours before me, and as I drove, I felt their writing energy pulling me along the road. Spending time with friends who no longer are a fifteen-minute drive away is a precious commodity. My heart sang.

After a hello break, all heads were down. I opened my computer to begin my writing process. Time is an artificial constraint because we picked up where we left off. Look at our habits. Everyone sat in his or hers previously designated spot. Doing what they did best, creating stories.

Today, sitting with these two folks, affected me. I remembered when we met, our initial writing discussions, and our dismay that I would be moving three hours away. This meeting marked another change. The second of the third musketeer is relocating. Our writing location here in the woods has been the spot that kept us connected and it will again.

Today, we marveled that we have writer retreat options. Collectively we have access to a lake house, a mountain house, and a beach house. These were our quiet settings that provided the place for our creative juices to flow freely. Does a writer need much more?

Being together to write, one learns about each other’s unique writing rhythm and process. Sharing that private writing space is an honor. I do this in real life with Heather and Darryl, and I do this in virtual space with Mischa and Oleander. Writers make things happen in whatever location we place ourselves. When we add the ingredient of friendship and caring, we move writing mountains, singularly and together.

This week, I beta-read Darryl’s latest book and had the privilege of sharing my comments with him in person. I did this a year ago, but now I appreciated how much I had learned about writing since his previous book. I brainstormed with Heather ways to condense four scenes into one while maintaining the elements she wanted to bring forward. That too indicated to me how far I’ve come in learning about writing.

So, what did I take from this?

December is a time of personal reflection for me. As the end of the year approaches, I begin to take stock and plan for the future. Today, I appreciated these two people who were with me when I started down the writing path. They have inspired me. They have celebrated my milestones with me while they allowed me to share and learn from theirs.

I told them my news about being included in the list of the Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2017. I felt their immense joy and pride. Of course, that had me crying. When you begin something from nothing, like I did with writing, and tackle it with every tool you have in your arsenal, wondrous things can occur. This accolade was one of them.

As 2018 begins, I plan to introduce you to the Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2017. My hope is they can inspire you to dream and write. And in between, I’ll be here blogging erotic sex stories in keeping with my forever goal to maintain a sex-positive stance in the world.

What has helped me thus far? Friendship. Bulldog tenacity. Perseverance. Drive. Enjoyment. Connection. And a Passion for something that has a meaning to me.

I wish that for you.

Nov 27

Icy Hot

The chill in the room continued to drop. My teeth chattered, but I had to stay focused. Rod had never used temperature this way to ramp up my desire.

If I wiggled my foot, I touched the cold wrought iron bedpost. If I jiggled my hands, the icy metal of the handcuffs set me off. I imagined that even my warm breath made a little cloud in the air as I exhaled.

What do I do now?

The cloth blindfold was the only thing that could have provided warmth, but all it did was taunt me with the idea of it. Positioned on the metal frame, the air from underneath cooled the slats, and I struggled to remain still, maintaining body contact to keep them warm. My nipples were tight and pointed. I wondered if they would slip out of the clamps.

How long have I been waiting for him to return?

Summing my power to concentrate was the only option I had.

What craving was Rod setting up?

What delightful experience was he creating?

Clues, I needed them now. I racked my brain for any words from of our last conversations. What had I let slip?

“Can you please unpack the groceries for me, babe. I need to return this call pronto.”

“What will I get in return?”

“I don’t know. Maybe something in that bag will inspire you.”

“You mean like zucchini or cucumber.”

“You were always the creative one.”

“Oh, a new kitchen implement.”


“Hey, what’s the Icy Hot for?”

“I have a sore muscle from my work out. I thought it might help.”

Was that the conversation that got me in this position?

The doorknob turned. “Bbbrrrrs. It is chilly in here. How are you doing, baby girl?”

I knew that lilt. I pictured the satisfied look on Rod’s face. He had created an event to surprise both of us.

“You have chill bumps on your skin. I bet they’re on your ass, too.”

No speaking yet, Lara. You do not have permission.

“I’m going to unfasten your feet. When I do, I’m placing a metal bar under your raised knees. It’s been in the room with you the whole time.”

My entire body shook. A bar? What does that mean?

“Yes, it’s going to be icy, but I think you’ll like what follows it.”

Hot? Please be hot.

What incredible warmth does Rod have planned?

As he moved around in preparation, I heard a pop and then a sulfur-like odor.

A match.

And then I smelled the wax.

Rod loved to give hints and set the stage. By my head, I heard a sloshing sound against metal like in my travel coffee mug but with additional clinking. An iced drink?

He had a spanking implement because I heard him tapping it against his hand. My ears strained to determine the type. But I wasn’t sure this time. My face must have given me away because Rod chuckled.

“Baby girl, are you ready to play? You may use your words.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m going to start with the bar.”

“Yes, sir.” Since I expected it would be cold, I relished the warmth of his hands as he worked to untie my feet. I fixated on the heated connection.

“Lift your knees so you can receive the bar.”

I pulled my knees back and opened up, so there was room for him to work.

“You know what to expect?”

“Yes, sir.” I hoped he would use that implement on my ass to warm me up.

“Okay, here it is.”

And like that, a freezing rod was placed behind my knees, and I pressed down to hold it in place. My teeth gritted, and uneven breaths left my lips. I must have been a naked, shivering sight.

“You did that so well, baby girl, you get a reward.”

Warm hands rubbed my ass. Oh god, the contrast. Heated digits traced my folds, and instigated my erratic breathing. I focused on the heat.

The liquid container clinked again, and then I knew.


I pressed so hard into the bar. Yes, my body temperature would heat it up. I had to focus because cold, icy lines were being drawn on my hips and up my sides.

“I’m unclamping you next, baby girl.”

If heat were energy, the surge produced in my freed nipples might have lit a small city.

And then another ice cube moved across my nipples.

Icy. Hot. Icy. Hot.

I panted with a pent-up fire. Dare I beg? He had to know how hard this was for me. I wanted to crawl the walls and unleash all the sensations on his cock. He fucked with my head so well.

“Are you ready for scorching, baby girl?”

“Yes, sir, please, sir.”

Rod removed the rod and sat my feet on the frame.

The next sound broke me open.

My magic wand was buzzing. Rod’s talented hot hands were strapping it to my thigh with latex tape, leaving me the room to move as I pleased. He paused, and I heard the ice tinkle against the metal container.

I gasped when he inserted two icy fingers inside me and wiggled making sure to tease my clit with his thumb.

“Remember, I get the last orgasm here. I’ve got a lot of wax, and I’m going to enjoy decorating you. Pace yourself, baby girl.”


Author’s Note:

I am always amazed at what gets a story going. This one was a combination. I heard Reese Wetherspoon give a talk where she asked the question, “What do I do now?” It was a commentary of women asking that of themselves. The other part was having the first cold snap of the season and experiencing my new house in the cold. There was a playful grocery bag discussion that helped, too. Those three things combined for to inspire this story.

Writing today for the wonderful Masturbation Monday Meme via Kayla Lords.








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