Interview with the Vampire

So I’ve always been a huge Anne Rice fan. I read her vampire series when I was a high school kid back in the 80’s. And while I was not a fan of the 90’s film based on the books, I am a huge fan of the current AMC TV show. I think it captures the original spirit of the books, while offering quality updates that bring the story into a modern socio/politico focus. But more importantly, I’ve developed a serious fan fiction crush on Daniel Malloy as a result of the show. I mean, come on, am I the only one who wants to seriously fuck that cranky old man?

The choice to make Daniel an old dude was genius. In the books, he’s just a boy that doesn’t really become a character until he becomes a vampire. And then he’s Armand’s lover…and then he’s crazy. The trajectory is kind of one dimensional. But the Daniel in the show really moves the plot, and I think has the potential to be a much more interesting character. Who knows if they are still going to turn him into a geriatric vampire? I think the potential for a Daniel/Armand thing still exists, and could actually be quite stimulating. The dynamic of an old vampire with an old human oddly turns me on. Vampire lovers are largely portrayed as young things, but it makes more sense that they might be attracted to an older, more wiser individual, as they themselves have seen quite a lot in the name of experience.

So in advance of Season 2, I’m totally shipping old Daniel and hot, young looking Armand. I think the writers could produce a very nice slow burn romance here, with lots of heavy stares and tempered touches, culminating in a juicy kiss. I don’t really need to see Eric Bogosian naked to get a rouse out of this. He can pull it off by simply using his lovely eyes and sarcastic tone of voice. But there’s definitely potential for fantasy here.

Gay Bathroom Sex

So I’m working on a couple of stories, and I have to admit that all my characters who are having sex are gay men. Last night, in fact, I wrote the first sex scene in one story, and it had my two male protagonists kissing in the men’s room. They almost had sex, but one backed out, leaving the other one to jerk off on the urinal cake. Now, I’m a 50 something bisexual woman, so I know a little about bathroom sex with other women, but I really don’t know jack shit about what gay men are going to do in a bathroom. (I never trust what I see in porn either.) And yet I keep speculating about it.

I mean, where do you whack off in a men’s room? Do you go in the stall, or the urinal? Do you wait until no one’s in there, or is having someone in there the point? Who knows. I’d do research in person, but would probably freak guys out cause I look like someone’s cute 50 something mom. So lacking solid evidence, I’m just going with what my inner gay guy would do. He’s a redneck with a mullet and a big dick.

He follows his love interest (who has just soiled a dress shirt with red jelly) into the men’s room. Their eyes lock during the stain removal process, and they kiss. The love interest is kind of a tight ass FBI agent (long story), so he backs away with the classic “Not here”, leaving our redneck hero with a hard-on at the urinal. He goes ahead and jerks off, aiming for the urinal cake. Rather than thinking about male figure skaters during the whacking, he thinks about his FBI agent. Romantic.

That all seems totally realistic, right?

bathroom sex, Dirty old lady, Gay sex, Story ideas, Urinal cake, Urinals

14 Years Later

So my partner in crime and I shelved this blog 14 years ago. I moved across the country and became a mostly respectable parent/librarian. Not that I wasn’t completely respectable before, but whatever. I’m now early 50’s, the kids are grown up, and I’m having a menopausal mid-life crisis. Fuck being a librarian! I never liked bookshelves anyway. Time to write and blog again! Only this go-around, I’m determined to make a business out of freelance writing and funny sex-talk. So everyone bear with me as I get this site back up and running. I’ll be putting some story excerpts up as teasers for my upcoming romance novels, as well as my inappropriate take on everything going on in the world. Oh, and we’re gonna talk about menopause and pot smoking, cause the two things can really go hand-in-hand when you’re a 52 year old woman. Weed Momma all the way!

Marijuana

Empty Nest Syndrome, Menopause, Mid-life crisis, Pot smoking, weed

Full Contact Sport, Part 2

Stoney tried to kiss me but I pushed him away and flipped him, straddling him and holding his arms down.  “You’re getting me all muddy,” he whined playfully.  I smushed my hand down in the mud and smeared it on his cheek, laughing.

Finally I kissed him and the passion ignited quickly, the adrenaline from struggling adding an intensity.  I ground against him and he grabbed my hips roughly.  Impatient, I tore his pants open and hungrily swallowed his cock while straddling his leg, massaging my swollen clit.

When I let it slide out of my mouth, he threw me back to the ground and squeezed my breasts hard while sinking his cock inside me with wild abandon.  His eyes closed and the look on his face held more intensity than I ever noticed.  Oblivious to the mud all over us or the fact that we were outside in the yard, he allowed his need to completely envelop him.  His raw desire brought me to a hard and fast climax, unable to contain my exclamations of pleasure, I cared not who might hear.  The world around us didn’t exist…it was only us.

He drove into me, massaging my g-spot, with another loud cry I felt the sweet gush of fluids pour from my sex and onto the ground to mix with the mud.  The warm and welcoming feeling of the flood pushed Stoney over the edge and he moaned loudly as his orgasm pulsed through the two of us, seeming to last for minutes on end. 

He fell on top of me and we laid breathless before looking around us.  The neighbors dog was watching us with interest we didn’t spy anyone else around.  Then we looked at each other and laughed at the mud spots all over us.  “I think there’s mud in my ears!  Let’s get in and take a shower.”

“Well if you insist.”

Full Contact Sport, Part 1

My husband, StoneyCloudfire and I have been really enjoying our ninja training lately.  Along with the standard kicks and punches which comprise the “hard” style of martial arts, we learn the “soft” style.  Don’t be fooled by the name, the soft style carries with it much more danger because it uses no strength or muscle, simply the opponents weight and balance against him. 

He and I frequently choose each other as partners in class.  Our familiarity helps us get to the core of the exercise and legally coping a feel of my husband in class outweighs throwing over a skinny 11 year old boy any day.   The other day we were practicing a technique and suddenly I flew threw the air and landed on the mat before I even knew what hit me.  A thrill went through my spine I smiled, “You’ll have to try that on me again later.”  He winked back at me.

Later that evening we were out on the porch enjoying a cigarette and talking about our class.  “I’d like to practice that technique some more,” I said.  So we wandered out into the yard and took our positions.

“I’ll go first, you try and grab me.”  Stoney reached for my neck and I blocked it quickly turning around so that he was behind me and I could lift him up on my hip.  In one smooth movement he flew around and onto the ground.

“Oof, that was good, I think you’re getting it. I didn’t really think about the fact that it has been raining for a few days, my ass is wet, ” he said.  “My turn.”

I grabbed his wrist and he broke free, before I even realized he had a hold of my arm, I sailed through the air and landed with a thud on the ground.  He held my arm while standing over my head for the finishing move of the technique.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine, our shifu would make you do push ups for asking me that!”  I took his moment of hesitation to push his leg out from under him and we landed in a heap on the ground, playfully wrestling together, jockeying for position.  Until we started taking this class we had never been much with the horseplay so I found this amusing and thrilling.  My body squished into the mud deliciously as he pressed down onto me, holding my hands above my head.  I strugged against him with my lower body.  Soon his erection pressed against me and I now writhed in desire instead of resistance…

Busy intersection

I’ve been a bad, bad blogger!  My apologies for completely abandoning everyone, but my work life has caught up with my blogging habits…and my personal life doesn’t give me much chance for blogging.  So I’m at an impasse!  Only thing to be done is live life first, then write about it later.  I promise to write more once time and the weather allows (can’t write on pretty days, you know, as they are for stretching my legs).  C’est la vie!

Adoration

(ever notice all these words rhyme with masturbation?!)

I was sooo glad to have E over, particularly because she is nice enough not to mention my terrible housekeeping skills.  But the sheets were nice and fresh smelling when we rolled into them Friday afternoon.  I let her get her boob and fishnet fetishes out of the way before she descended on my ravenous pussy.  I think she’s been getting more lessons from her husband because she had me moaning and squirming in orgasm in no time flat.  Or maybe absence makes the heart grow fonder and the clit come quicker as well.

Next she put her expert hands to work and a nice puddle of ejaculate formed under my ass as my body turned to jello.  By then I was dying to get going on the pussy worship.  She presented her gorgeous snatch over my face, careful not to drown me, and I gleefully feasted on her.

She topped it all off by fingering my ass while letting me ride her purple cock and suck her toes!  WOW!  I think we covered a myriad of fetishes in just one short afternoon.

Explanation

Ha!  I just read her comment on Preparation…sneaky indeed, hiding those fishnets under army pants!  I found them, though, after arriving late and giving myself a quick scrub up in her tiny bathroom!  I have to confess, though, that I was unable to rip the fishnets!  I tried, but they were made out of a stretchy nylon that wouldn’t budge, despite my He-Man efforts.  So, anxious to get to the pussy, I just peeled them off of her, and tied them around my head like a bandanna.  I think that’s what Steve Perry would have done with a non-cooperating accessory!

I’m horny as hell by this point, so I commence licking.  Then I discover that I can’t sing whilst horny…or with my face in someone’s crotch.  I can sing, really I can!  Why a homeless man once gave me his sandwich in the New York City subway to thank me for singing Amazing Grace for him…but I’m afraid I failed miserably at serenading a pussy!

Thank god, though, she whipped out my purple penis, which, of course, restored my masculine pride and prowess; I left feeling quite the little stud.

BTW, I don’t think I can do Alice Cooper.

Preparation

Typical procratstination, I’m listening to the hum of the sheets in the dryer now…anticipating E’s arrival in just 40 minutes or so.  I gave myself a face mask and lovingly cleaned the sex toys, including E’s beloved purple cock.  It has been a while since she’s taken it to me so I have high hopes.

Once my husband gets out of the shower I am going to give myself a nice clean shave and make sure my pussy is ripe for the singing. 

Steve Perry is okay but she actually gets much more turned on my some Alice Cooper.  Bad rocker chick to the core…”Your web, I’m caught, Your skin, so wet,  Black lace on sweat….I want to kiss you but your lips are venomous. Poison…”  Anyone remember the Bulletboys?!  They were all about sex, “Smooth up in ya!”  What does that even mean?!  Who really cares!?  Sorry I’ve gotten off on quite the tangent…the effect of rock music on my tender adolescent sexuality is another post entirely.

So better late than never I’m wondering what I should wear?!  I guess we’ve established that I need to find some fishnets she can rip…geez, where are they?  Black lace dress again?  Do I really need anything at all to go with the fishnets?  Well my husband is asking me to do something for him before he leaves so I need to sign off…details later, of course!

Anticipation

It’s a Friday, and I’m mulling over my options for wasting time at work.  Silver’s at home washing the bedsheets in anticipation of my afternoon visit today.  Her darling husband agreed to take the kids out for a couple hours so that we could have some play time.  The plan is I leave work at 12 something, go pick my husband up for therapy (we’ve been doing marriage counseling for well over a year now, and love it!), have “lunch” with hubby after therapy (I went vegan, so it will be a healthy lunch), and then drive over to Silver’s house for some recreational bonding on clean sheets!

She jokingly asked me to sing to her pussy in the comment section, so I’ve been practicing my Steve Perry voice today and am prepared to wow her with some stadium rock.  Journey’s songs have probably initiated more lays than any other ballad crooning band, so I think I made a wise choice in my repertoire.  Ask her kindly tomorrow, and maybe she’ll appraise my efforts!