Flash Fiction Friday Whatever

Blah blah blah sister-blog blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah Max's blog blah blah blah. Blah blah picture of my hinder blah.

This is the sort of content that Twitter was made for, but I'm really bad at Twitter so you're getting this instead. I promise, something interesting is bound to happen to me eventually. Or you could ask questions. I take questions. Or whatever. Blah blah blah.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

Does anyone need this reminder? I figure if you care to read my fiction, you're probably already subscribed to the sister-blog, and this feels like a cheating post to me. Like I said, I'm open to suggestions on how to improve these little reminders, but I'm beginning to think that the only way to improve them is to eliminate them.

Head over to the sister-blog for my submission this week, head to Max's blog for the others.

Everyone gone?

 

Anyone still here?

 

Go on. Head over there.

 

Nothing to see here.

Okay, you're stubborn, I'll give you that.

And now, the moment you've all probably been waiting for.

I can't do this every week. But this week I felt like it. And there haven't been many stories recently, so I owe you I guess.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

Let's just assume that you've already seen the FFF posted over on the sister-blog. Let's further assume that you have gone to Max's blog to read the other players' takes on the subject. But suppose, dear reader, that you threw your own hat into the ring. Suppose it was the greatest flash fiction a Friday had ever seen. Suppose it blew all other flash fictions, on any day of the week, out of the water with its sheer brilliance. We'd have to stop doing Flash Fiction Friday, of course. And that would be a tragedy for all concerned. So suppose you throw your hat into the ring but maybe handicap yourself a little. Write left-handed with your eyes closed or something. I don't know what would be an impediment to your writing process, but suppose you try that, just to give us mere mortals a chance to compete.

I'm supposing all of this, by the way, knowing that you'll probably just lurk again, which is okay, but why deny your obvious talent to the world? Why not join in? Why not take the plunge? Why not?

Or, if you're not going to do that, at least go to Max's blog and thank him for his weekly efforts, because without him this wouldn't happen, and you wouldn't want that, now would you?

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

Here it is! Here it is! It's here! Here!

Go to Max's and see the others, and please play along with us because fresh blood is fun. It's not difficult. Just do a little word doodle. You'll be glad you did.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

It's up. Do what you must. Go to Max's for others or to throw your who am I kidding you're not even reading this.

Okay, fine, now you can go to the sister-site and it'll be true. Then head to Max's for the others or, and this isn't a big ask, to write one of your own because I showed you my tits on spec.

You're not reading this either, are you? You're still looking at my fucking tits. My eyes are up here you know. I knew this was a mistake.

Bonus points if you visited the sister-blog before I posted this and you get the joke. The tits are definitely for you if so.

TMI Tuesday - Imagination

From the TMI Tuesday Blog:

1. Write a 100 word story using the phrase “Kinky love triangle.”

You should never get involved in a kinky love triangle because you're probably fulfilling at least one of the three people's fantasies by doing so. They'll just keep stringing the whole thing along while you get hornier and hornier, and in the end you'll have made them cum over and over again while you get the shaft, metaphorically speaking. That said, when I showed up at my crush's apartment to find her in bed with another man, it stung, at least until she pointed out that two is better than one, and the triangle squared the circle nicely thank you.

2. When was the last time you snapped a nude pic of yourself? Where was the pic taken (e.g. bedroom, bathroom, etc.)?

Honestly, I don't take selfies very often, nude or otherwise. I can't think of the last time I took a nude selfie. I can't really think of the last time I took a clothed, to be frank. I usually get someone else to take pictures of me if I have to have pictures of me. If you'd like to enjoy a nude not-selfie of me, you can do so here.

3. Finish this sentence: I felt overwhelmed with the urge _____ .

I felt overwhelmed with the urge to cum, so I reached into my pants and abused myself until I did, nicely thank you. And that, children, is why I'm not allowed within five hundred feet of that Wal-Mart.

4. Finish this sentence: Using sex as a road map _____ .

Using sex as a road map is a good way to take a wrong turn at Albuquerque.

5. Do you tend to follow your desires and take risks?

When it comes to sex, I'm riskier than I should be. Don't do as I do, kids. When it comes to other desires, I'm practically paralyzed by my inability to take risks. Don't do as I do, kids.

Bonus: If you dig a deep hole through the center of the Earth starting from New Zealand, in what country will you emerge?

Aha! You never specified that the hole be a straight line! Therefore, anything I say will be correct, including telling you that you'll end up two feet to the left of where you started. As long as the hole goes through the center of the Earth, I can't be wrong! So I'll say you'll emerge thinking you should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

Does anyone even read these things? My latest is up on the sister-blog, and if you claim I never write poetry anymore, you're in for a horrible surprise. Head to Max's blog to see the others or to write your own, which you really should do because it's more fun with more people, like the sailor said to the virgin.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

Once again, for those of you who don't know better than to look at my fiction, a new Flash Fiction Friday is up on the sister-blog. I'm writing this having just finished it, because I ran out of time this week. Other than that, head over to Max's blog to see who else played. They probably did it better than I did this week.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

 Fun picture this week, and my take is up over at the sister-blog. Head to Max's blog for additional takes.

Stuff happened this week and I'm getting around to writing it up so you can enjoy it too. Expect that at some point soon.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

Once again, over on the sister-blog, we have a Flash Fiction Friday. Check out the other entrants over at Max's blog because while there's a bit of crossover, they went in mostly completely different directions from mine.

And now for other news, since I should be giving you something for stopping by, my further adventures with Erin are being written down, but I keep being pulled away by unexpected things. Trust me that they'll be worth the wait. Anyway, I think so. It's a long-ish post as it is and I haven't even gotten to the most exciting parts, so your patience will hopefully be rewarded.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

I barely managed to get one in (as the priest said to the schoolgirl) this week because of the aforementioned busy state of work, but my take on a very sexy photo is up over on the sister-blog. As always, head to Max's blog for other takes. Me, I'm writing this during some downtime at work, so if you want more you'll have to write it yourself.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

You know the drill by now, I hope. Head over to the fiction sister-blog to read mine. Head over to Max's to read others. I'm going to keep doing these cross-posts until someone stops me, I guess.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

My latest entry in Fiction, the Friday Flash edition, is up on the sister-blog. Sister-blog sounds like something you'd talk about if you were a Mormon, doesn't it?

Anyway, does me doing this cross-post thing annoy you? Does it help remind you that I have a fiction blog? Do you wish I'd keep my fiction to myself entirely? Would you eat beans with George Wendt? Echo?

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

Once again, over on the fiction side of things (and I promise to keep fiction there so no one is confused) I've participated in Flash Fiction Friday. Check it out and then hit Max's blog for other participants. I feel like I should have some sort of value-added content over here to justify cross-posting, but I can't think of anything. Any ideas? I don't want to just post writer's notes over here. Maybe I could try to recall some fun stories from my past which relate in some way to the topic of the week? I don't know. I'm open to suggestions as long as they aren't impossible to maintain.

Flash Fiction Friday Is Back

Well, it's back because Max is back. He's a good egg, is Max, and he's inviting us all to join him in flashing some fiction this Friday. Head over to his blog (Thoughts From a Mystic Satyr) for this week's prompt picture and rules. Do it. Now. You've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. Also, Max is a good writer so you should check out the rest of his blog too. I'm pimping it.

My offering will be posted on Friday to the blog you probably forgot I had, Eris and Psycho, where I hope to do more fiction stuff, maybe with some help from my delightful and imaginative wife and friends.

You Might Not Be Looking At Amateur Porn If...

I was going to make a flow chart, but it would have been huge and unwieldy.  Instead, in the style of Jeff Foxworthy, I'm going to make a list.  Just because one of these things is true doesn't make it professional porn, but the more of them that are true, the less likely you're looking at a unicorn and the more likely it was professionally produced.  I've got absolutely nothing against professional porn either; I just find it amusing when they play amateur.

You might not be looking at amateur porn if...

...they're having sex on the beach in broad daylight.
...they're having sex on the beach at night.
...everyone looks like they could be on some CW show.
...the pubes are shaved.  All of them.  Not a hairy ballsack in sight.
...the lighting is Golden-Hour quality.
...there's not a single pimple on anyone's ass.
...they go right to anal with no lube.
...it's a picture series, starting with an artful strip-tease in front of a neutral backdrop.
...you can see genitals more often than not.
...it's a handheld camera but the angles are all beautiful.
...the depth of field puts objects in the foreground into a soft blur, but the pussy is always in focus.
...her asshole looks perfect.  So does his.
...there's a timestamp on the photo but it's for a date which doesn't actually exist.
...there's a timestamp on the photo but it doesn't stay in the same place from photo to photo.
...no one is ever making a stupid face when the camera is pointed at them.
...they're in a house nicer than you've ever been in.
...they're in a hotel bedroom.
...they're in a dorm room and there are more than two of them.
...the furniture is straight from Better Homes and Gardens.  Literally.  No one has ever used this furniture before.
...they're fucking on a pool table.
...the woman looks 18 but her boobs are giant and fake.
...the high heels stay on throughout.
...there's nothing with a brand name on it except for adult brands.
...no one laughs, ever.
...everyone is constantly laughing/cheering.
...there are spectators who don't get naked, join in, or do anything but look slightly uncomfortable.
...they make a big point of saying over and over that she's his step-daughter.
...they actually fuck in the pool, rather than by the side of the pool.
...lighting or camera equipment is ever visible.
...you never, ever see the camera in mirrors.
...people are wearing balaclavas and Halloween masks.
...there is no queefing, even after vigorous, lengthy pounding.
...her makeup never smears, runs, or rubs off on furniture or bedding.
...they're doing watersports outside the bathroom.
...they're doing watersports on that Better Homes and Gardens furniture.
...she shows the camera the cum on her tongue before she swallows.
...the costumes look like they were borrowed from a movie set.
...they're doing watersports while still wearing those costumes.
...the man/men is/are old enough to be the woman's father.
...anyone loudly announces that they're cumming, but it takes them more than a second after the announcement to do so.
...no one sweats.
...there are cuts between camera angles but the action seems continuous.
...they're having sex in a public area and people are walking by.
...it's a cuckolding scene but someone other than the husband and the two partners is filming it.
...there are tribal tattoos on all the guys and they all look like they live in the gym.
...it's an interracial gangbang and all the black guys are hung like horses.
...it's in a basement but somehow they're getting dolly shots.
...they're posing/fucking in front of some spectacular vista.
...it's from Russia or Eastern Europe.
...it's supposed to be in a school.  Seriously, it's never really a school.
...the bondage gear costs more than your car.

Fiction

I'm splitting off my fictional endeavors for two reasons:

1. It helps with my condition.
2. Sveta will be helping.

 My doctor wants me to try to deal with the unpleasantness of my sexual disfunction (almost wrote "disfucktion" because if you can't laugh you've got nothing) in a phobic kinda way by confronting it so that once the problem is resolved I won't continue having psychological problems with it.  But the personal stuff is too close to home.  So I'm separating it out.

Henceforth, you can swing by http://erisandpsycho.blogspot.com/ for all your sexy storytime needs.  I'll probably try to do some FFF etc.  And Sveta will be helping because it's a way for us to do things together. Hope you enjoy.

Flash Fiction Friday - Gasps

Some people smile as I walk by.  They’re the kind I hate.  They’re boring.  I want a disapproving glare, a sour glance, even a gasp.  There’s no point in indulging a hint of mischief if no one disapproves.  But the ones I like the best are the eyes that follow even as they mouth scandalized nonsense.  They burn my skin hotter than the sun.  And I smile and let them look and get wet as wet can be.

---

Short this week, but with a kick.  I’m not sure how well I can keep up with Flash Fiction Friday any more, but since PB was back this week, and it’s a picture that I apparently provided a long time ago (I don’t honestly remember it, but that’s okay) I had to play along.  Because Flash Fiction Friday rocks. 

Flash Fiction Friday–Not What She Appears

My dirty little secret is that I don’t know anything about photography.  Well, my two dirty little secrets are a lack of photographic knowledge and that I fuck models for money.  If my parents knew, they’d shit bricks.

Today, the model isn’t hung.  I don’t mind.  I just accept payment to pretend to like them.  I start with my usual spiel, how cute he is, how much I’m looking forward to this, blah blah blah.  He’s cute, in a way, so it’s not really lying.  And the man behind the mirror wants enthusiasm.

Sometimes the models get wind of what’s up, but this one seems naive.  Even when I’m telling him that I just can’t stand the heat, pulling off my blouse, encouraging him to do the same, he seems puzzled.  Sometimes they really think it’s a modeling gig.  They’re so cute.

But when I come out from behind the camera, totally nude, and start sucking his cock, his look changes to satisfaction, and I wonder just who was playing whom.  But I don’t care.

---

I finally get to do a FFF sort of on time.  I’m actually writing this on Friday because this week has been hellish, but I wanted to try to get it in on a Friday.  Thanks to Ram for hosting, by the way; I had no idea he was doing it for so many weeks, or I might have tried to sneak one in sooner.

MetArt always has erotic photos.  Not necessarily sexy, but very erotic.  This one is no exception.  Just felt like tossing that out there.

I know shit about photography, and that was the first thing I thought, after the obligatory, “Oooh, sexy girl,” brain freeze.  I wondered how much the model knew about photography either.  It seems to be something that crops up in erotica/pornography; taking a picture of a cute girl taking a picture.  I guess if you’re a photographer’s model, it probably pays to know something.  And you probably pick stuff up by exposure (pun unintended, I assure you).  But I just wondered exactly how much this woman really knew about photography.  And the story kind of wrote itself.  I wish I had more space, because hey, I could write more.

I don’t often write in the present tense, as I believe I’ve mentioned in the past, but for whatever reason, this one lent itself to that too.

Anyway, Flash Fiction Friday is cool.  Just saying.

Random Fiction - No Billygoat Gruff

Grog lived under the bridge between two meadows, but unlike his cousin who had had an unfortunate run-in with goats some years back, Grog was cautious. He had the filthy pelts of numerous woodland creatures, magical and mundane, to prove it. But of late his larder was bare, probably because even stupid woodland creatures got wind of a troll under the bridge eventually.

So when Grog heard footsteps, he played it cool. No reason to scare off his dinner. When he finally peaked over the side, there was something he hadn't expected: a faerie, eyes closed, lip trembling. Grog couldn't help but notice that she was also totally naked, her wings sparkling in the late afternoon sun.

It had been a long time since Grog had seen a female troll, and while this faerie was much too clean, much too hairless, and much too slim to be truly attractive, Grog wasn't going to be choosy, not when this sort of opportunity dropped into his lap. He leaped out and grabbed her around the waist.

"Hoho," he said in his most menacing voice. "What have we here?"

"Please just do it and get it over with," whimpered the faerie, eyes still closed. "Please."

Grog was taken aback. "Nope, no tricks," he said. "I'm not listening."

"No tricks. Just do it."

Grog didn't even have to drag her back to his lair; she bent over in the grass and put her head down. What was going on?

But still, the sight of her pert backside made Grog hungry for things other than billygoats. His cock was enormous, as befitted a troll, and it rose to hardness immediately, so he tossed aside the filthy loincloth and gripped the sylph's slim hips, directing his trollhood into her tight, hot passage. He grunted and thrust, caring little for her comfort, but he could have sworn he heard her sigh with happiness.

Grog was cautious, but not when his cock was demanding release, not when a seemingly willing cunt was taking all he could throw at it. He thrust and thrust, and he didn't even notice when the sword point made its own thrust through his heart. He collapsed in a puddle of blood, and his last thought was wondering just what had happened.

"You could have let him finish," scowled the faerie, climbing from her knees and turning to look the hero in the eye.

"I hate sloppy seconds," said the hero, his pants already down, his own cock, hardly a troll's but still impressive, jutting out like his sword. "In fact, I think with all that pounding that the only thing worth fucking on you today will be your ass."

And the sylph was happy to oblige, even as she idly wished that her hero would occasionally let her feel the hot blasts of troll cum she craved.