Good News, My Lovelies!

You may notice that my two vampire shorts, Graveyard Games and Hunting Grounds, have gone missing from the blog... I'm happy to report that I've just received confirmation that they will be included in the  upcoming Crimson Anthology by Breathless Press! 

This is a very happy day for me. 

Conditions of Anonymity (Pt 3)

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Conditions of Anonymity (Pt 2)

<Pt 1

There was a man stationed just inside the entryway to the ballroom where the guests were gathered.  He wore a mask, but it was a flat, uninteresting gray, and he was garbed in a red suit that seemed to indicate he was staff, not guest.  He greeted me with a nod and extended a hand for mine—I let him take it, and we glided into the room, he leading me through a warm crowd of party-goers.  They were all in masks all the same style and design, but in a myriad of colors.  I saw silver, green, royal blue, all glittering and sparkling in the dim golden light shed from the chandeliers overhead.  My mask was the only one with detail and accessory, and the same went for my outfit: all of the men wore simple, rich red fraternal robes, like monks.

Conditions of Anonymity (Pt 1)

The latest Hump Day Request story deals with more masquerade fun, hidden identities, and secrets revealed.  Enjoy this brand-new story, my lovelies!

The address on the little slip of paper in my hand belonged to an austere, officious sprawl of a manor on the Gold Coast, a big, dark building of cool stone and creeping ivy.  I took a long moment to appreciate it as I stepped out of the gleaming black limousine that had come out to my humble apartment to fetch me: perhaps I should have known, given the invitation I’d received to tonight’s event and the detailed instructions contained within.  This wasn’t going to be just any old party.

Of course, no party is any old part if I’m invited.

No Update This Weekend

So sorry, my lovelies, but there will be no update to Foreplay and Fangs this weekend.  Unfortunately my computer has decided to give me problems and I have to have it fixed.  It's a relatively minor repair so I don't foresee any long-term troubles, but it just happens to affect my ability to type and transcribe, so the story I was GOING to post this week (a sexy masquerade party courtesy of my latest Hump Day requester) has to be put off until I can reliably transcribe it to Word.  Hopefully this will be taken care off before next weekend.

On another note, it's my wedding anniversary this weekend, so frankly I'd rather be getting it on with my one and only, anyway.

See you next week!

Dance of the Paper Dolls (Pt 3)

         <Pt 2

          “What are you?” she asked.  “Why are you doing this?”

          “Just the natural order of things, sweetness,” said the dark-haired girl.  “We had to make sure Genesis hadn’t killed you, or we’d have had to punish her, but now that we know you’re alright, we can get on with the party.”

          “Party?”  She was still groggy, her mind still slowly coming awake.  “I don’t… want a party…”

          The girl laughed—it was like ice and glass, hatefully biting.

          “Sure you do.  Colt’s been waiting ages for you to come along and play, haven’t you, Colt?”

          “Sure have,” the male agreed.  “But it’s all right, Cleo… let her catch her breath.”

          He smoothed back her hair; her shoulders relaxed a little.  Devilish as he looked, he seemed gentle.

          “There now.  You are pretty… no wonder our little puppy likes you so much.”

Dance of the Paper Dolls (Pt 2)

 <Pt 1

 

           She went to the window and poked her head out.  They were there, just as she’d imagined them: Darry in the same shirt and jeans—they were even dirtier now—and Genesis, standing behind him, her hands clasped demurely behind her back and her face upturned with a knowing, winking smile.

           Thankfully, though, no fangs.  And she wasn’t wearing that red kimono… just jeans, Doc Marten boots and a violet, laced-up-the-front corset top.  Her hair was pale blonde, but it wasn’t white.

           Maybe, Winnie thought to herself.  Maybe I am overreacting.

           Maybe I am a little jealous.

Dance of the Paper Dolls (Pt 1)

Darry had missed classes for over a week; she’d left him message after message on his cell phone and hadn’t gotten so much as a text in return.  Winnie was just about to contact the police to make a missing person’s report—something she knew she should have done from the beginning—when, amazingly… he returned.

She caught sight of him from across the student union—he was sitting in the teal nylon sofa chair he always sat in, waiting for her as if he’d never left.  A rush of sudden excitement filled her and she picked up her pace to join him, practically dropping her tray of food as she did; as she got closer, though, she realized how strange… how incredibly different… he looked.

Scarves (Pt 3)

<Pt 2

She groaned, tilting her head towards his voice, arching her back to press herself closer into his hands.  His heat radiated against her, making her quiver.  She wanted him, oh, God how she wanted him; she would offer him anything, let him do anything he liked—she was desperate for him.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he muttered, and she uttered a sad sound as he carefully drew away from her.  She’d betrayed her want too early; now he was going to deny her.

She strained for him, following the sounds of his movements, desperate for him.  He circled her again, paused; circled the other way, paused.  He was just out of reach—not that she had any hands to reach with—teasing her with his nearness, his unrelenting distance.

Scarves (Pt 2)

<Pt 1 

It was as she had suspected: she was forced to stand on her toes, grasping the scarves to steady herself, or else strain both shoulders with her full weight.  She gasped a little and her highlander pulled her arms even higher, stretching her reach further, leaving her even more precariously balanced.

“Sadira,” he murmured lowly, running a rough, callused hand across her bare breasts, vulnerable little teacups spread almost flat by the stretch of her arms, the arc of her spine.  He circled her, touching her, trailing his hands idly over her nudity, tickling her and making her tremble as she danced from toe to toe.

Scarves (Pt 1)

Orange torchlight; the rock and sway of percussive song, the embrace of flute, dulcimer, cymbal, drum.  The men watched, enraptured by the winding twist of her hips, the sinuous motion of naked sensuality, following the shimmering gold firelight over bared breasts and long, slender legs.  Sadira’s tawny mane fell wild to her shoulders, held back from her face by a headdress of beaten bronze and adorned with great feathers of exotic birds; thin braids, wound with ribbons and small red jewels, fell at different lengths behind her ears.  As she slowly spun in place, weaving her arms in seductive rhythm over her head, the light of the fires lighting up her savage curves, the dark lines of the tattoos marking her hips and shoulders—markings of her former allegiance to a fallen clan and fallen master—wound with her, a map of her ignoble heritage, a testament to her alien origins.

The men around her cared little for the marks, however.  The foreign beauty, famed as a lover and a soldier to their greatest enemy, now danced for them, enchanting them and pleasing them, impressing them with the sultry talents they might never have expected from one who had been raised in the way of swords and combat.  One who knew the woman’s story might have recognized the distant aloofness on her face even as she arched her body, displaying herself for her enemies, the clan of rugged highlanders that had captured her and kept her prisoner so far from her homeland.  One who had heard the tales of her might expect the beautiful slave yet harbored a searing fury and distrust in her heart, a plan of rebellion in her mind—that observer might even believe he caught a glimpse of something like the subtlest hint of a sneer  across her lips, the defiance of a legend brought low.

Masquerade, Pt 5

“Do you always make friends this fast, Senator?” I murmured as our lips parted.  The champagne—or maybe it wasn’t the champagne at all—was making me a little bit dizzy.

“Usually not,” he replied, still holding me close.  “I’d say this is somewhat of a unique circumstance.”

Masquerade, Pt 4

<<<Pt 1  <<Pt 2  <Pt 3

I had made an impression, that was clear to see.  Andrew and his audience had all fallen silent—they were a sea of approving grins as they took in my sparkle and satin.  If the charming senator ever suspected the pretty creature in front of him was the same practical, efficient, no-nonsense woman who held down the desk outside his door, he gave no indication of it.  Instead, he gave his usual campaign-winning grin—God, it was even sexier behind the striking tuxedo pattern of his mask—and tipped his glass to me.

“Well, I’ve been told my dancing skills are mostly up to par,” he chuckled modestly.  “Of course, I’ve never had the opportunity to measure them up against a Cirque du Soliel star before.”

Masquerade, Pt 3

<<Pt 1  <Pt 2 | Pt 4>

On the night of the charity gala, I called Andrew and told him there had been an unexpected delay, and that I would have to meet him at the party later.  As usual he was kindheartedly understanding—my heart even fluttered a teeny bit at the warm, welcoming sound of his voice over the phone as he told me not to worry and to take my time. 

As I hung up the phone, I caught a glance of myself in the mirror.

Masquerade, Pt 2

<Pt 1 | Pt 3> Pt 4>>

A friend of mine involved in the local community theater suggested PolkaDotz Costumes and Party Favors to me, when I mentioned my little plan for the charity event.  I had been planning to drop by the nearest Party City for some cheap and easy supply and frankly, that’s what I expected of the store she sent me to, as well.  To my surprise, PolkaDotz wasn’t nearly the corner party store I expected.

The storefront was reminiscent of an antique’s shop: heavy, weathered wooden furniture dominated the display windows, occupied by opulently dressed mannequins in distant, nonchalant poses.  An odd curtain of fabric and hanging theater paraphernalia—black rubber Halloween bats, lacy strips of dusty white fabric, even various brands of old toy model airplanes—draped down over the rear of the displays, giving only a small glimpse of the dimly lit, crowded floor within.  Huddled clothing racks featuring all manner of costumes stood beyond, waiting patiently, quietly.

Masquerade, Pt 1

Pt 2>  Pt 3>>  Pt 4>>>

I have a confession to make: I am in love with my boss.

If you knew him, you’d understand.  Andrew’s quite a charmer.  I’ve been his personal assistant for six years and every morning he’s in with a smile, blue eyes sparkling, greeting everyone by name… on Fridays he treats the whole office to coffee and pastries.  I suppose it only makes sense, though: he’s a senator, after all.  It’s practically his job to be charismatic and approachable.  Even so, I can’t help it… I’ve definitely fallen under his spell.

Commentary: Masquerade

 

Masquerade is a fun and flirty romance, a story which holds a special place to me because it is one of my best friend's favorites.  It's not my usual NC-17 erotica, though I had toyed with the idea of turning it into a bit of a lustier, longer piece, and still might.  It will be posting in 5 parts this week, Monday through Friday, so I can take a little bit of a breather and hopefully put together something new and sexy for this weekend.  I'm hoping to be able to keep up a Friday-Saturday-Sunday new update schedule after this week.  However, I am trying to give precedence to my novels, so short stories will technically post as I am able to finish them within that preference.

Thank you for reading and enjoy Masquerade!

Orgasm (Hers)

Every touch and every stroke, driving me to heights

Meant just for this, for tangled bodies racing towards their bliss.

On and on, your hunger and my passion climbing.  Tight,

Trembling, quaking, slick and hungry—I yield to your kiss.

I want you deep inside of me, to satisfy desires,

Oblige my need, plunge into me and

Nudge me closer, drive me wild.

It stirs, it sparks, it crests within me, waves upon the sand,

Now increasing, now escaping—God, I feel it there!

My body—arching—welcoming each thrust, yes—deeper—please!

Out of breath, I moan for you, my wordless, thankful prayer.

Taut as you explode in me, each shudder, each release

Inciting me still further, driving quaking passion mad,

Overthrowing senses in crescendoing demand,

Naked pleasure echoing and grand.

(Special thanks to Mae West for this one.

Why?  I have my reasons.)

Orgasm (His Turn)

quick, compulsive rhythm; racing heart, driving homE

my body throbbing heavily; your body writhing; i’M

sliding, slipping, thrusting, touching—deeper, faster—nO.

pause, withdraw, go slowly, drawing out the blissful fighT.

inch by inch exploring your slick depths, your flesh naoI

 working up excitement, pressure, passion. To and frO,

three times fast, than draw it out again, our forms ajoiN

in wet, hot lust; the beating pulse of muscles, moaning,  oI

plunging to the hilt I feel you tighten, tense, and moaN

i’m almost there—a little faster—now I’m at the briM,

i’m deep inside, and with a strangled cry at last let gO.

surrendering to overwhelming rapture, this is iT

thrust again, and still again, I need to fill you, I

am helpless as my body must be satisfied, and O,

i hear you moan for more and more; in your flesh, I resigN

(Special thanks to Mae West for this one.

Why?  I have my reasons.)

---

("naoi": Plural of naos, a temple in Greek architecture)

Happy Hump Day! Changes Coming Soon...

Good evening, lovelies!  It’s Hump Day and I am once again opening my Ask box, Twitter, and email up to your sexy suggestions for torrid tales.

Just remember my usual rules.  And feel free to let me know what you’d like to see on the blog!

Changes are on the Way...

Foreplay and Fangs will soon be switching to a weekend-only update schedule. This is because I am finding it hard to carve out time to work on my longer novels and need to be able to give them the attention they deserve (not to mention my artwork), and views for Foreplay and Fangs are highest on Friday, Saturdays and Sundays. 

This is how it will work:

I'll finish out this week with a pair of poems on orgasms.

No posts this weekend (I need some down time).

Starting Monday, you'll get a five-part short romance that should keep you busy until next weekend, when the blog will pick up its usual NC-17 rating and its new Friday-Saturday-Sunday updates for as long as I can keep them coming. 

I’ll still be taking Hump Day Requests every Wednesday night, so feel free to contact me using the forms in the sidebar on the right! Any Requests I get will be featured on Friday nights instead of Wednesdays from here out.


As always, my lovelies, thanks for reading!

Commentary: Hunting Grounds

Hunting Grounds is one of my "experimental" pieces: it's the first time I've written gay male romance.  People who have been following long enough will remember that Eat Dessert First is a gay male romance, but Hunting Grounds was actually written first.  I've held it off the blog for a while because I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with it, but I think it's time to let it take its place here with its brothers in the Blood and Fire stories.

Hunting Grounds deals with a character from Rhiannon's world, a male vampire who has not (as of yet) been revealed to be gay in the course of his travels with her.  I didn't want to throw scenes into a book that didn't belong or fit there, just to point out something about this character that didn't naturally come through on its own.  At the same time, I really wanted to try my hand at writing from a gay male perspective, and to give this vampire his day in the sun, har-de-har-har. Hence, Hunting Grounds was born.

Writing Challenge by Remittance Girl

If you don't follow me on Twitter... then you should.  If you did, you would have seen that I have thrown my hat in on this writing challenge posed by Remittance Girl, essentially to explore the effects of language and POV in determining the intensity of a scene.  In this case, depicting a sex act as either 'vanilla' or 'kinky'.

      This is just a quick little sex scene.  The characters have no names and no place in my greater headcanon... this was just to see what could be done by changing only the language and perception of the character.  Since Remittance Girl specifically mentioned the differences between styling such a scene in regards to missionary position, that's the path I took.  I did want to try and include a third scene with a sub-on-top position to see what I could do with that, but ran out of time.  Perhaps in the future I will try that, too.  Since this is a writing exercise and I love comments, please feel more than welcome to tell me what you think of it!

Kinky States of Mind: An Erotica Writing Challenge

Kinky States of Mind: An Erotica Writing Challenge

I do believe I'm going to have to do something to answer this challenge.

Into the Dollhouse (Pt 2)

<Pt 1

Colt reminded Darry of a boy he’d taken theater classes with in high school: he was lean but muscled, catlike almost, and probably agile and wiry.  There was only one word for this young  man’s face, though: beautiful.  He had an almost royal countenance, gorgeous hazel eyes and lovely, pouty lips.  He was sitting lazily on an uncovered sofa when Genesis led naked Darry into one of the musty upstairs rooms, where the sheets had been pulled off of the furniture, and the shades thrown open to let in the sparkling, bright moonlight.

Colt was a lovely man, but it was Cleo—his sister—that immediately drew Darry’s eyes.  She was even prettier than Genesis, with long, shapely legs and smooth, delicious hips.  Her elegant but low-cut gray blouse showed off the curves of her gorgeous breasts, and her long, dark hair fell in a cascading wave down to the small of her back.  When Genesis and Darry entered, she turned away from a musing study on the night sky, and Darry noticed a lithe dancer’s grace accented even her slightest movement.

Rumblings on "50 Shades of Gray"

I haven't read 50 Shades of Gray but I've been hearing a lot of rumblings about it.  What I've been seeing out there has me rather fascinated, and I would sum up my interest by directing you to a review by Remittance Girl here.


The reason this fascinates me so much -- and the reason I will probably feel compelled to read 50 Shades of Gray despite what I've been hearing about it -- is that I've had an idea for a new novel exploring a BDSM and M/s relationship, essentially expanding on the relationship I started in To the Victor, which I will readily admit is an AMATEUR attempt.  To write a more complex novel on this matter, though, I wouldn't feel right about it if I gave it a "Twilightian" treatment.


I think one of the important things Remittance Girl brings up in her review is that the treatment of the "dominant" character inaccurately reflects the true nature of a power exchange relationship.  As a writer, this is a mistake I endeavor very hard not to make.  I can't promise that I accurately reflect every type of character, community or culture I write about, but I try, and when I make a mistake of this nature I am always more eager to correct it than I am to find a reason to leave it unchecked.


If I expand To the Victor into a full-length novel, I actually hope to write a story reflecting a contrast between a "sadistic" and "badly implemented" M/s relationship, and one that is built on a more balanced power-exchange and real affection expressed through that exchange.  I've been wanting to explore this sort of relationship and contrast since reading this response to a D/s-related query a while back.  I am actually incredibly interested in exploring and showing what makes a D/s or M/s relationship a dynamic and legitimate lifestyle for those who desire it, and contrasting a "good" and "bad" arrangement (for lack of better words) feels like a good vehicle for exploring a character's intrinsic desires and the validation of those desires.

So to read something where the details of this relationship are allegedly underdeveloped or poorly represented almost seems like good research.  So while I am a rabid hater of things epically mis-written as Twilight, and it sounds like 50 Shades may be such a story, I think I might have to indulge a bit of my own masochistic side and give the thing a go.  This is the same reason I read the Twilight books in the first place, too: reading something poorly developed and poorly written is, in my opinion, a fairly good way of not making the same mistakes yourself.


Of course, this doesn't excuse poorly written crap being praised as good literature.  
 

As a mildly entertaining side note, we recently cleaned out our bookcase and my husband asked what I wanted him to do with the Twilight books.  I told him to throw them on the "Used Books To Trade" pile.  When he went to the bookstore to trade in our old stuff for store credit, they would not take any of the Twilights.  Not because of condition, but because they were Twilight

Instead, you know what they did with them?

Donated them to the local men's prison.

Take that, evil-doers.

Into the Dollhouse (Pt 1)

 Guess what? I write sequels.

The days were filled with desperate, wild sex, passionate and indulgent, more than he had ever thought he could take or give.  And yet, each time his beautiful Genesis reached for him across the cool, quiet darkness, silently beckoning to him and whispering sweet, lustful promises into his ear, Darry found himself ready, burning with a fever to consume her and bury himself in her, over and over.

He was losing weight—he was never hungry, except for her.  He was missing classes, he hadn’t spoken to his friends or even his family.

And it didn’t matter, as long as she was there.

Updates!

Hello, my lovelies!  We've been getting so many, many more views lately!  I'm making you a promise, the day we get more than 200 views in one day, I will add two more chapters to my Lotus Petals page.  You'd like to see more, wouldn't you darlings?

In the meantime, I've updated my index pages to include some of the new stories.  If you're looking for the supernatural erotica, check out the list here.  For regular contemporary erotic stories, go here.


Everybody enjoy and and as always, remember to share!

My Sanctuary

You may recognize this piece from my sidebar over there.  Here it is in its full glory.

"My Sanctuary"

(c) 2012

Original characters: Angel and Tali

(You might remember Tali from this story here)

Heart of a Stray (Pt 2)

(Part One: When we last left our lovers...)

He peered mischievously at the other two through half-open green eyes.  Anoki raised an eyebrow, then his face broke into an equally smug little grin.

“Rinse off, Nya,” Achak commanded, all chiding gone, leaning close to nuzzle her behind the ear.  “Then we’ll see what we can do for the birthday boy.”

Nya smiled, too, first at Anoki and then winningly at Achak.  She’d been feeling very tired, exhausted in the aftermath of fear and running from the angry werewolves.  Now, though, home with her boys, she felt safe again, and relaxed.  The thought of making love, as always, renewed her spirit.

Holy Cats!!

Oh my Goodness!

My darlings, you've made me so happy!  Today we broke 100 views in one day!

Whatever shall I do to repay you?  What to do, what to do?  Shall I give you a double update?  Shall I illustrate one of my sexy short stories for you?  Whatever do you desire?

Comments section open below!  Let me know what you think you deserve, my naughty little lovelies!  Foreplay and Fangs is open for requests!

Heart of a Stray (Pt 1)

Commentary

Nya was a long-limbed, athletic creature, sleek and agile, even more so than most of her kind.  She didn’t have the brawny upper body strength of some wolves or the tightly-coiled, whipcord ferocity, a vicious asset in close-quartered fighting… but she could run.  Like a rabbit, she could run, swift and nimble, skilled in sprinting and amazingly light on her feet.

Of course, wolves caught rabbits all the time.  And what they did to the rabbits they caught was not something Nya liked to think about.

Commentary: Heart of a Stray

This is a story that has been brewing for a while, simply looking for the right plot to give it life.  I've been fascinated with the idea of writing a "Perfect Love Triangle" polyamorous couple for at least a year.  The phrase"Perfect Love Triangle" was actually used by one of my middle school teachers in describing the conflict between Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot.  The key to the "perfect" triangle is that all three members love each other.  It's not a matter of two men fighting over one girl (or two women over one dude)... each member loves each other in equal measure.  I'm not sure anymore if I really agree with the Arthur/Gwenny/Lance "perfect" triangle anymore, but when it occurred to me to write something feature a polyamorous trio instead of a traditional couple, that was the phrase that stuck in my head.


I've written threesomes before, of course, but always in the context that a threesome sex scene is more about the kink of it than anything else.  In Heart of a Stray, this threesome is more about the romance between the three partners.  As such, it is perhaps a bit more fanciful, a bit more sugary than other group scenes I've written... but I'm very happy with how it turned out.  For one thing, I'm especially happy that though it's a M/F/M threesome, the sexual engagement does not entirely revolve around the female.


Finally, Heart of a Stray is part of the Blood and Fire canon that I've mentioned before.  In this story you'll get a little bit more of a glimpse at the makeup of the five demon nations, especially the second and third "bloods", werewolves and shadiil.  There's a little more insight into the role of "bastard" demons (like Rhiannon, my lady vampire from Lotus Petals), called "four-fangs".  But while I could write many more stories about how these particular supernatural characters fit into the greater web of the Blood and Fire hierarchy, for now I am happy to give you just a sweet little tale of their relationships to each other.  


Oh, and some hot, heavy sex.  Can't have a Foreplay and Fangs short without hot, heavy sex, of course.


So I hope you enjoy Heart of a Stray! 

Wow!

Yesterday was the biggest day ever for the blog!  We got 86 hits!  Thank you, thank you!

(And if you don't think 86 is that big, well... we're still pretty new over here.)

I'm working hard to get tonight's story up!  Bear with me... hopefully it won't be too late. 

Short Hiatus

Hello, lovelies!  I hope you've enjoyed the fun I posted for you this week.... I'm sorry to say there won't be any new sexiness posted today, as I've been distracted with special plans for my dear one, my husband.  Today his good friends and I threw a surprise party for his 30th birthday.

Come back tomorrow for more goodness, though!  Another contemporary sexy story starts posting tomorrow, and some supernatural poly fun later this week!

Join The Party (Pt 3)

I pulled the boy I was masturbating closer, to let him have his turn at my mouth.  He gave me the reigns, not grabbing my head to thrust but gently twining his fingers in my hair and letting me work my lips around him, taking my time sucking and savoring him.  I let him out of my mouth and inclined my head a little farther to lick at his testicles, laving them up and down with the tip of my tongue while he started jacking off again.  The new boy in my pussy pumped me hard, sliding smoothly in and out and slapping my ass as he thrust; I could feel the wetness of my own orgasms and the come from the first boy slick on my inner thighs, messy and oh, so good.  My cunt was still quivering and filled with a pleasant after-buzz of coming twice already, and every pump of my new partner was like little tingling shocks.  I wriggled my hips against him, playing a little hard-to-get and making him grab me harder, fucking deeper and with savage dominance.  I took the boy in front of me into my mouth and worked him in rhythm with the boy working my cunt, wanting to gobble down his come at the same time the boy behind me fucked me to another peak.  The one in my mouth came very quickly, shooting his load down my throat as I swallowed thirstily—he moved out of the way to admit the boy who had first fucked my pussy. 

Just Sayin'.

Commentary: Join The Party

Today's new story, Join the Party, is a story I have mentally labeled "Pure Porn".

One of the reasons I like writing erotica is that I find it to be a really, really good staging ground to explore all sorts of characters, their personal developments, their psychologies, reactions, and opportunities in a variety of complicated and interesting situations.  When I started writing shorts for Foreplay and Fangs, I was interested in exploring a number of sexual behaviors, communities and identities.  That's why this blog has stories ranging from gay and lesbian tender romances, to supernatural horror, stories looking into flirty monogamous kink, wives getting banged while hubby watches, exhibitionism, and rough bdsm, and stories exploring the sexual side of creatures like dragons and werewolf fanatics.  One of the reasons I wrote Rhythm and Blues, a story I readily admit to be disturbing and uncomfortable, was to explore a little bit into the darkness of a damaged person's heart, and see where such a path would take me.  I might not have posted that story except that I felt the results, while potentially controversial or offensive, were solid, and they pleased me as a writer.  When it comes to such things as writing controversial subjects such as rape, rape fantasy, tentacle porn and sexual encounters before the age of 18, I tend to agree completely with this podcast by Remittance Girl, so if anyone wants to ask me why I write about women entangled with half-beast lycanthropes or why the desperation of a sexually abused girl, you can give that a listen.

But Join the Party is something I wrote for one very simple reason: it's porn.  Pure down-and-dirty get-your-rocks-off porn.  I felt like writing something naughty and purely for the sybaritic indulgence.  It's quite possibly over-the-top and probably not as in-depth as some of my other stuff, but that's not the point.

So usually I write things with a deeper idea of where certain questions will take me and what certain situations will say about a character and their inner workings.  I know lots of people will think it's ridiculous to say such a thing when writing porn, but I stand by it.  If you ever want to know what the "non-porn" motivation behind any given story is, feel free to drop me a comment.  But every now and then, something like this will make its way in here, and when you see them, I only wrote them because I had an itch to scratch, and I sincerely hope its the sort of thing that will make you squirm in your seat and perhaps try to sneak in a little "sessitimes" of your own, solo or with a partner.  Or with many partners.  I'm cool with that.

Enjoy Join the Party!  If you do like it so much you find yourself looking for a few sneaky moments with your vibrator or a bottle of lotion, well, do me a favor and give it a +1 or a retweet, would you? 

"Witches" at Foreplay and Fangs

Tomorrow's story, Rhythm and Blues, will be a short, dark erotic tale featuring a witch as the supernatural player.  However, I want to make one thing very clear about "witches" here on Foreplay and Fangs.  

A large majority of my supernatural stories take place within a single headcanon and are collectively referred to as the tales of Blood and Fire.  In the Blood and Fire world there are five nations of demons (these "five bloods" have been mentioned in some of the shorts already, like Her Dark Rewards).  The youngest of these races is known as the coven-kin, or witches and warlocks.

Because of the headcanon for Blood and Fire and the designation of "demon" as it is used in these stories, the "witch" race is considered demonic.  These are the kind of witches you see in horror movies like Warlock: The Armageddon and The Craft.  The reason I represent them as such is because the Blood and Fire stories began as a series of horror stories rather than erotica. Witches of the fifth demonic race in Blood and Fire are men and women who have sold their souls for dark power.  They follow the more Judeo-Christian archetype.

The reason I point this out is because while I write stories about fictional witches and warlocks who are considered within canon to be demonic and portrayed using "black magic", I feel it's important to state this is not what I actually believe witches to be.  I recognize and have a great deal of admiration and respect for real-life Pagan, Wiccan, Druid and Reconstructionalist spirituality, and I do not in any way intend to portray their religion and spiritual beliefs to be Satanic or demonic in nature.  I have found individuals within these communities to be incredibly dynamic, compassionate, open-minded, accepting and kind and I would never consider them "evil".


So, it is very important to me that my readers know I feel that way.  My fictional "witches" are entirely fictional and in no way meant to reflect negatively upon real-life members of Pagan and Wiccan communities, and I certainly hope no one will interpret them in such a way.


For more information on Neo-Paganism and Reconstructionalist religions, please check out this site here.  I have found this particular article to be a good starting point when it comes to understanding these brands of spirituality, though the entire site is full of terrific information and resources. 

Taboo in Erotica: A Podcast by Remittance Girl

First off, if you haven't listened to any of the podcasts by Remittance Girl, you're missing out.  If this lady's voice doesn't just make you melt, I don't know what to tell you.  Beyond that, her fiction, written and read, is just gorgeous all around.  Some personal favorites and recommendations are The Central Registry (if you liked my Wages of Sin, it should come as no surprise that I like Central Registry so much), Beautiful Losers, The Waiting Room and The Baptism.


Secondly, this podcast by Remittance Girl tackles the concept of taboo in erotica.  This topic is obviously exceptionally relevant to me, and I have a great appreciation for this rebuttal she delivers to the idea that writers of erotica must self-censor certain subjects in erotica that, let's face it, there is valid audience for.


The Rebuttal: Writing Taboo in Erotica and the State of the Genre


Remittance Girl mentions towards the end of this podcast that writing erotica allows her to tackle certain truths on a deeper level, truths that we may deal with symbolically through sex.  I hadn't really been able to put such thoughts into words myself, but I can certainly identify with this motivation.  I find that, when I write erotica, it is with the desire to address something deeper in my characters or to explore some motivation or desire that is more subtextual than literal.  Especially when it comes to stories like To The Victor, Wages of Sin and Graveyard Games, for example.  So I feel the argument presented here is not only relevant, but significant.  I hope my readers will agree.


Enjoy Remittance Girl's thoughts on writing taboo, and remember to check out her work if you haven't already.  She is really quite terrific.

Your Wish is My Command

Soon to come: Her Dark Rewards, an early story of Rhiannon, hero of Lotus Petals.


 But until then, my lovelies, shall we have a little chat?


I'm a sucker for a little naughty talk.  So how about you tell me what you'd like to see more of here at Foreplay and Fangs?  Do you like the vampires, the werewolves, the sneaky and deceptive succubi?  Are you a fan of straight sex, same sex, group sex, solo sex?  What kinks do you think need some time in the spotlight?


You know how to reach me... leave your comments straight on the blog here, chat me up on Twitter, or send your thoughts straight to my Tumblr Ask Box.  I can't wait to hear you whisper in my ear...

Let's Make a Deal

Hello again, my lovelies...


We are about to engage once again in a sexy adventure through the world of the arcane and supernatural, starting with a new werewolf themed story, Make Me Howl, in just one hour... but before we delve into a new, naughty romp, I have a proposition to make you all.


I love posting to Foreplay and Fangs, and I love watching my views climb as more and more people enjoy the sexy stories I have to share.  But what I would love even more is to see bigger numbers, more readers dropping by to be part of the fun.


So I'd like to see how many readers we can wrap up in our little web, shall we?

Here's how to play:


Tonight I will post Part 1 of Make Me Howl, a werewolf short story in 3 parts.  Tomorrow, at this same time, I'll post Part 2.  These two piece of the puzzle will already be sexy and steamy all by themselves and I promise you will get some good down-and-dirty entertainment from them.


But Part 3... that's the part you'll have to work for.  I'll just keep that sexy bit all to myself for now, and if you want it, you're going to have to show me.

If Foreplay and Fangs can get over 100 views from the moment Part 1 of Make Me Howl becomes available until one day after Part 2 goes up (That'll be the day after tomorrow, my lovelies), you can have Part 3 of the werewolf adventure.  And I promise it will be good.  But you have to help me get more than a hundred views if you want me to share.


The views don't have to go to any particular story... share them all.  The more +1s, shares, retweets and reblogs I get, the better. 


The choice is yours, darlings.  And I hope you enjoy the werewolves... in all their delicious glory.

Questions? Comments?

Dear My Lovelies,


You know I love to hear from you, don't you?  You know how much I'd love to know what you think of the blog, the stories, the writing style, everything!  So reach out and touch me... I'm now on Twitter!


So remember, you can reach me through my Tumblr Ask Box or through my Twitter (which really has existed for quite some time, gathering dust, unloved, because I was too lazy to try and figure out how it worked... heh.)  Tell me anything!  I love reader feedback!  So do be dears and drop me a line.

Hope to hear from you soon....


Fondly,


Brantwijn

Coming Soon.....

Tonight the blog uploads the last chapter of Verenia, and brings to an end the adventure of Brother Sean MacDougal.  Thank you again to my good friend Rob K. for allowing me to bring Sean into my little playground and throw him to the creatures of the night! 


Verenia was a work of normal supernatural fiction, a genre I also write in quite a bit.  I have written 5 full-length novels in this genre (in addition to the 2 full-length erotic novels I've got under my belt!), and one of them is currently under consideration by a professional publisher.  Posting Verenia here was fun because it allowed me to showcase some of my other work.  But it also gave me a chance to build up a bit more of the stuff you're really here to see: naughty, naughty sex!

COMING SOON TO FOREPLAY AND FANGS:

Make Me Howl:  A short story featuring, yep, you guessed it... werewolves.

Rhythm and Blues: It's been a while since we've seen a warlock around here, too, hasn't it?


Her Dark Rewards: A short story featuring young Rhiannon, the vampire protagonist from Lotus Petals, set some 30 years before her adventures in Japan.  Don't know who Rhiannon is?  Follow the link and check out the sample chapters of my full-length erotic novel.


Things are getting sexy around here again, my lovelies!  Stay tuned for more naughty paranormal players and all the wicked fun they get up to.

The Gothic Doll (Pt 3)

The sidewalks were silent, mostly abandoned, as he followed his little gothic doll back to her home.  It was just the two of them, walking quietly, and—to his strange surprise—saying nothing.  She led, he chased; she glanced up from under her dark lashes and flashed him a smile, like a lady leading a puppy, and he trotted obediently at her heels.  It was a clear night, but there was no moon, leaving only the streetlamps to cast their pools of light along the path.

Her hair was so fine and pale; he thought it must be soft, like long strands of spider’s silk.  Without realizing he was doing it, he reached out to catch a few strands drifting in the breeze—and Genesis ducked away, spinning to face him.

At first he thought she must be angry, but she was smiling again, a sweet little smile, like dusted sugar.  They had stopped between the streetlamps; in the slanted darkness he thought she looked very, very pale, almost white.

“Darry,” she said quietly.  “Do you want to touch me so badly?”

The Gothic Doll (Pt 2)

He’d brought his own portfolio along to the coffee shop, like he did every night there was a poetry reading, and he’d hoped his mystery girl would be there to hear some of his original work.  When she wasn’t, his heart fell, and he almost turned down his chance to read altogether.  There had been members of his literature classes there, though, who urged him on, and Winnie, too—taking to heart what he’d said about being best friends, obviously, as she gently nudged him up towards the stage.

“Fine,” he muttered at her, shoving his portfolio into her hands and picking up his anthology of British Literature instead.  He’d read William Blake: the Romantic writer was the current subject of study in his English course and the poems he was analyzing for that were short and sweet.

Of course, the moment he read the title of the first piece he meant to read, she entered the room.  He caught sight of her just as she slipped in the door, not even tinkling the little bell above it, and he fumbled over the title.  Her pretty eyes flickered up to him—shy and plaintive, just as they were in the dreams he’d been having of her—and she slipped unnoticed into the corner, quietly taking a seat to listen.

The Gothic Doll (Pt 1)

It all started innocently enough: she appeared in the campus coffee shop, a quiet, fair-haired girl, a little gothic doll.  She wore lipstick the color of a red rose’s deepest petals, her gray eyes framed by dark lashes and silver, smoky eyeshadow.  She held back her hair with a black headband decorated by the skull-and-crossbones symbol of poison, and her off-the-shoulder black blouse showed the tattoo of a Chinese dragon winding around her right shoulder.  She sat in the corner, sinking quietly into the cushions of one of the sofas to watch the readers with silent interest.

Darren first noticed her during one of his poems, her head tilted slightly to the side as she listened, fingering the heavy pewter pendant around her throat.  She was instantly captivating: dark and elegant, beautiful in a way he might never have expected.  He wrote poetry, studied it; she was poetry, a lonesome and mournful verse like something out of Dickinson.  Why had he never seen such a fascinating creature as this before?

Temptation

Hump Day Request:

Temptation, seduction and "giving in".

When your ex is an elf, relationships can be complicated.

She recognized the perfume the moment she stepped into her dressing room: wild jasmine and hibiscus, a scent all at once nostalgic, bittersweet, and arousing.  Kicking the door shut behind her, Taliyah crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes, tapping the fingers of one hand on her bicep.

“Kymera,” she murmured in a tone of playful exasperation.  “I should have known.”

“I was in town,” came the husky reply.  When Taliyah turned towards the wall where her vanity mirror was set, she saw the beautiful leggy fae sitting sprawled in the makeup chair, feet dangling over one side as she leaned, casually regal, over the other, chin propped up on one hand.

“Had to stop by and see my favorite protégée.”