Tag Archives: sex

Women Reveal What They Want In Bed

Do you know what your lady wants in bed?

I read this on a Facebook friend’s wall, and thought it was worth reposting. I don’t know the source of the research, but the findings make sense, and are worth a read, even if you already know it all! 😉

Cute smiling woman posing.


Men try to figure it out, but many don’t get it. Does she want candles lit for romantic lighting, or candle wax dripped on her nipples? Does she want to be made love to softly with feeling, or f*cked from behind with mad passion? I asked 1,000 women what they really wanted from men in the bedroom. They got real. They got raw. And they got honest.

10. Undress her… slowly.

“I want to be slowly unwrapped and revealed, like a present.” — Debbie B.

“He needs to take his time with me until I can’t handle it. And I want to see him want me. It drives me crazy.” — Michelle S.

Too often, couples get down to business. And while that really works on many occasions, because that’s raw passion. Seduction can — and should — also be slower, and not rushed. Reveal her body slowly and let your eyes and hands hover, brush, caress and grip places your tongue will soon follow.

Bottom line: Anticipation and appreciation go a long way.

9. Sex in public.

“The possibility of being caught or seen is a huge turn-on for me. We don’t have to have full penetration, but getting close works great. I’ve started going out without panties on so he can start things wherever we are.” — Erika D.

She might not want to actually have sex in public (getting arrested isn’t good), but the thrill of being observed is a huge turn-on for many women. After all, part of the excitement when you’re a teenager is not getting caught doing… whatever. Why would that change in adulthood?

To the guy who thinks his girl “wouldn’t be like that”: Yes, your girl is indeed very much like that.

8. Let her take control.

“I really like being in control. Not every time, but sometimes. And I don’t want to hurt him; I just want to do things to him. Things that please him, but also things that let him know he is not in control; I am.” — Karen W.

Power can be a big aphrodisiac for many people, men and women alike. And just like their male counterparts, many women want to not be on the receiving end of control. While most respondents weren’t looking for a BDSM lifestyle, over half (53%) were just as clear that they wanted their man to experience some level of submission, at least one time — tie him up, spank him, have access to all parts of him. And others (9%) were looking to have the same power as a man where it wasn’t enough for her to be on top… she wanted him on the bottom.

Bottom line: She has just as much desire as he does… and she wants the opportunity to show him.

7. Role-play.

“I love when he dresses up in his old Navy uniform. I didn’t know him then, so it makes things different, and men-in-uniform really turn me on.” —Jessie L.

“My husband has a foot fetish. When I wear stockings and heels, he loses his mind.” — Erica M.

“Maybe I’m all screwed up, but I like playing the naughty school girl (with pigtails!), and he’s the teacher who punishes me for getting my homework wrong.” — Hanna R.

Taking on a different persona can be freeing and allow for actions and thoughts to play out that in reality, you wouldn’t be able to follow-through on. By putting on a costume or assuming a different role, you can kill off inhibitions and self-conscious insecurities that prevent pleasure.

Bottom line: Assuming a new role can not only be fun, it can eliminate relationship dynamics that might stifle sexual freedom.

6. Variety of motion and movement.

“There are times I want him to go slowly, with love and affection. And other times I want it fast, hard, deep, and with aggression! I mean, just F*CK ME!” — Paula B.

“I want a combination of in-and-out with a clockwise rotation. It accesses all of me, and the top of his pelvis brushes my clit on the upward motion.” — Shanna E.

“I want his hands moving. I want him to stay touching and feeling me as he is inside me.” — Penni J.

Over 80% of respondents said that they experienced many men as oftentimes having one speed — fast — with several mentions of “BAM-BAM-BAM-BAMBAMBAM!” (Yes, seriously.) Women are looking for variety in the motions as well as the types of caresses/touches (both where it happens and the amount of pressure initiated). They want you to keep your hands, tongue and mouth engaged, and to be more adventurous with body position.

Bottom line: Women’s bodies are fun to explore. Experiment and try things as she allows. She’ll thank you later.

5. Make it all about her.

“Nothing better than a massage with slow circles on my back, and baby oil down my legs.” — Yolanda K.

“I love when he will do anything to make me come. I’m not difficult, but that he wants it so bad is awesome!” — Fran U.

“Listening to what works and what doesn’t is so great. I’m kinda complicated. He is patient and takes his time.” — Donna J.

“I want him to look at me, directly into my eyes, especially as he puts it in. OMG.” — Samantha D.

She wants to feel special. She wants to feel desired. And she might want to be spoiled, too. But let’s remember that she is also allowing another human being inside her body, and that comes with a combination of comfort, submission, and trust.

Bottom line: Take the time to make things about her, and she will more than willingly reciprocate. A little extra goes a long way.

4. Go down… now and always.

“I love when he goes down on me. Seriously. And if I get it first, it relaxes me SOOOO much and I come SOOOO hard. Then he can pretty much have his way with me.” — Joanne S.

“Going down is a really personal act. If I let him, he is really ‘in’ with me.” — Kat H.

“I like when he does it, but I like knowing that he wants to. That he wants to taste me is such a turn-on.” — Anna G.

“I want his tongue on me, in me, circling me. Hang on. I have to go lol” — Consuela H.

According to various studies, approximately 75 percent of all women never reach orgasm from intercourse alone. That means if he’s not going down, there’s a good chance she’s not getting all she can out of the situation. If she allows him to put his tongue in the Holiest of Holies, he better not only value it, he needs to know what he’s doing, which actually means: How does she like it, when and how often.

Oral sex is a special level of intimacy. It creates a trust when you allow someone to experience your body so closely. And, that trust and allowance can provide for incredible physical and mental release and pleasure.

Bottom line: Go down. (What else is there to say?)

3. Take control.

“Stop waiting for me to always take control. You want me? Come take me!” — Lona T.

“I need him to manhandle me a little bit. I want to feel him want me. Put me against the wall and pull my clothes off.” — Gina D.

“I like [my boyfriend] forceful. I want my hands pinned back with him taking me.” — Shawn E.

“I like my hair pulled A LOT. I want to know he has control.” — Kris R.

Once they let their guards down, a full 91% of respondents said it clearly: They wanted a man to take charge in the bedroom. This answer came from women in all walks of life: stay-at-home moms, power attorneys, women in their 20s, women in their 40s, emo girls, executives… it didn’t matter. And the reason is simple: It’s primal. Heterosexual women want to be afforded pleasure at the hands of a man who is confident, capable, and passionate. In essence, she wants to just let go. She wants to trust, release and just be a woman who is sexual, sensual, and feminine. She wants to trust and hand control over to a man who will not use his power against her.

Bottom line: A woman wanting a man to take charge in the bedroom is the ultimate gift. It says that she trusts him with her. She is allowing him to take her. She wants a man who is confident, charming, alluring, captivating, mysterious and bad — all the while caring deeply for her integrity and self-respect by not thinking that the submission and control in the bedroom translates to “She’s my bitch” in the real world.

Disclaimer: “Control” and “forceful” does not mean angry or violent. Before trying anything new/rough/forceful, discuss boundaries and limits with your partner.

2. Foreplay begins outside the bedroom.

“He just starts. We walk in the bedroom, and he expects me to just flip on my back, automatically be wet, and ready for him to start thrusting.” —Monica F.

“I’m not an outlet that can just be PLUGGED INTO.” — Deb G.

“Make me want you!” — Fran T.

“A man’s intelligence is a HUGE turn-on for me.” — Juanita G.

For some men, there are two types of foreplay: being touched and the anticipation of being touched. What these guys don’t seem to realize is that their version of foreplay is in direct opposition to a woman’s largest erogenous zone: her mind. There’s no substitute for mental stimulation and intelligent discussion as foreplay.

Arousal for a woman often starts long before she is consciously aware it is happening. She is turned on by a look, by a statement, by his wit and even his willingness to listen without judgment. Seduction is an art form, and requires effort. It demands focus on her. She wants to feel important. She wants to matter. She wants to feel desired.

Bottom line: A woman’s largest erogenous zone is her mind, and a guy’s words and actions are the ultimate tools for effective foreplay.

1. Kiss her. Really kiss her.

“I want him to kiss me deeply. Slowly. I want to feel him love me and want me.” — Marta L.

“Sometimes I need a nibble with my kisses. He needs to let me know he’s into me.” — Faith V.

“Kiss my lips! Kiss the inside of my thighs! Kiss my neck! Kiss my hand! And please… kiss me as you enter me when we are making love.” — Michelle N.

“I like when he kisses me in public. I’m not one for PDA, but to show everyone that he cares is really special.” — Betty C.

Kissing is very intimate. It’s a closeness that is personal, passionate, and communicates a variety of things from the first kiss onward.

A simple kiss is often the initial gauge by which one might judge the success of a relationship. According to scientists who make their careers studying kissing (they are called osculologists), there’s an enormous amount of neurotransmitters, evolutionary biology and instant assessments of potential life-mates.

What she wants in a kiss: Start gently. Let your mouth wander as she allows, but pay attention to her responses. Light strokes on cheeks, neck, and back get extra points, as these areas are usually ignored (at least initially). At the beginning, a light caress is definitely recommended, and should give way to a harder touch and grip as kissing continues. Timing is everything. Start slowly, and stay slow enough to watch for signs that encourage more rapid movement and advances. Kiss her lips, cheeks, eyelids, and neck slowly until she makes it clear she can’t handle another second without… more.

Let it build. Kiss her against the wall, kiss her leaning across the front seat of the car, kiss her in the shower… just kiss her. And be sure to kiss something besides her mouth: the nape of her neck, her ankles, her wrists. Do it slowly and sensually and you will unlock her passion.


Excerpt from XXXombies: Chapter Two

Attractive beauty posing.

I posted Chapter 1 of XXXombies here, which many of you liked. Here’s Chapter 2, where you’ll discover there’s not just one luscious XXXombie but four living together. The ebook is priced to please: just 99 cents on Amazon – http://amzn.com/B00R34KZFQ – read it on your Kindle, smartphone, iPad, tablet, or any web browser with Amazon Cloud Reader!

2. Meet the XXXombies

“Hi sweetie, good hunting?” said a sultry girl’s voice, as Kirsten entered the apartment.

Her roommate Petra was lounging on the chaise, reading a fitness magazine. She had lilac yoga pants draped dreamily around her long, toned legs and a matching workout bra top that hugged her breasts together above her firm midriff. The lanky Latina smiled, with a gleam in her eye that lit up her face. She sprang up to give Kirsten a hug. Kirsten was glad to see her. Petra always made her feel safe. They had been best friends since high school; she knew Kirsten better than anyone else. It felt good to have someone you could trust all your secrets to. Especially when you’re undead.

Petra was the consummate picture of loyalty. She would always go all out for her friends, and she was the queen of sociability. Everyone knew her and loved her forthright, gregarious nature. But she was also the wise, practical and street smart one, even as a young schoolgirl. “Every human being will disappoint you somehow,” she would frequently tell Kirsten. “In one way or another, their flaws and selfishness will catch up with them. You and me, we are cursed. We love giving and being there for others, but some people will just take and take. I can spot them early on, but you? You give everybody too much credit.”

Petra was effectively big sister to Kirsten. In appearance though, she was a total departure from Kirsten’s Swedish blonde looks. Her light olive skin and dark chestnut hair set off her naturally red lips. She was three quarters Mexican, but had German and Romanian genes in her mixed parentage giving her exquisitely exotic looks. 

Two other women were in the small but tastefully decorated brick apartment. Their housemates Shalini and Eva were sprawled on the large cushy L-shaped sofa, with glazed eyes on the TV but not really processing what was on the screen.

“Hi Kirsty,” they piped up, casting a brief look at Kirsten lingering in Petra’s embrace. It was just longer than usual.

“You seem relieved to be back. Shitty day at work?” said Shalini, in her deep breathy voice, thick with sardonic overtones without even trying. The voluptuous Indian girl had on thick disco make up, a turquoise sequined minidress that hugged every inch of her body, and giant gold loop earrings. It wasn’t clear whether she had just come home or was going out. Quite possibly both.

Shalini enjoyed flaunting her sexuality. It was always over the top, and always gaudy, exuding confidence so thick it was like a force field challenging you to penetrate it. There was also a certain desperation about it, like a girl at 30 who had partied too much and was trying to fend off what the next decade would bring. Tonight she looked a little disheveled but nonetheless pleased with herself. Her thick black wavy hair was in sexy disarray, and she was toying with her own curls with some self-satisfaction. It was the just-fucked look.

Sitting next to her, the Korean girl Eva looked severely prim and proper in her monochrome business suit and her geeky dark-rimmed glasses. But the girls knew what was underneath that conservative attire — her favorite red patent leather bra and thong. With metal studs. There was probably a small riding crop stashed in her skirt too.

“Tsk, you want to see shitty days, come work at my firm,” said Eva with a cynical snarl.

Eva had a thing for painfully demanding jobs. She worked as an M&A lawyer in a mid-sized firm, one that always had to try harder. She liked it because it wasn’t as high profile as the other prestigious firms, where she wouldn’t draw too much attention. And she liked that they weren’t beneath using her as a bribe for clients. The kinky, twisted clients who loved her brand of pain.

Eva was older than all the rest, somewhere in her mid 30s, but her Asian genes gave her that perennially youthful beauty which always had you unable to place her age.

They were all the same kind. Beautiful zombies, or perhaps more accurately “xxxombies” — undead with an immortal hunger, kept alive by the miracle of sexual “qi”. Bound together by the same secret, they helped look after one another in a world that had zero tolerance for their kind.

Or at least that was the idea. They didn’t always get along, but at least they understood each other.

“Hi girls, I had a good day actually,” said Kirsten, turning to look at them but still not releasing the hug.

“You do look much better than you did this morning,” said Petra with a cheeky smile. 

“Yes, I’m sure you can tell I just fed,” said Kirsten, kissing her best friend briefly on the cheek, leaving a faint stain of semen. Petra’s cheek glowed as it absorbed the residual qi. The Latina let out a small “oooh” as she felt the enervating buzz. She jumped about in mock joy. Yes, once they were xxxombies, their skin could absorb the goodness of cum as well. But oral feedings were the most beneficial.

“Mmmm. Bet he was hot,” said Eva, licking her lips.

“Oh, he wasn’t too shabby actually, except that he tried to mug me when I took the darker shortcut home…” said Kirsten, kicking off her shoes.

The girls laughed, picturing the folly of the wannabe mugger. Kirsten knew how to take care of herself. Even without resorting to aikido and Brazilian jiu-jitsu, the luscious blonde could freeze men in their steps with just one look. She could strike icy fear into them just long enough to have the upper hand. Even the toughest of ruffians had no chance.

“Men,” said Kirsten, rolling her eyes. “He shouldn’t have, but just as well. My hair was starting to fall out!”

“Sweetie, you need to get your head out of that R&D lab more often,” said Petra, referring to Kirsten’s work place. “All the work and no play…plus male colleagues whose libidos have chemically disintegrated…maybe one day yours will too!”

Kirsten stuck her tongue out in defiance. She joined Shalini and Eva on the sofa. There was a late night detective drama on TV with a plot that had too much talking and no destination. No doubt they were watching it just for the male eye candy.

“Well, I suppose you had a good day at the library today?” Kirsten asked. Petra was a librarian. The hottest one the county library ever hired.

“Mmmmh! Yes! Twins!”

Petra sank in next to her giggling.

“Oh?” Kirsten raised her eyebrows with interest, awaiting more details.

“Twins?” Shalini sat bolted up, her frosty blue eyeshadow clashing with her huge brown eyes. She had had many men, but yet to score twins, her elusive fantasy.

“Yes, it was like seeing a double miracle! They were so awesomely buff and cute…at first I thought geez, they had to be gay. But they gave me ‘that look’,” said Petra, her eyebrows dancing with knowing emphasis. “So I put on my librarian glasses and showed them the rare books collection. Nobody ever goes there, as you know…”

“Darn, and I thought I got lucky,” said Kirsten. “No wonder you look extra languid and satisfied!”

“Yes, I had both my mouth and pussy well-filled. Repeatedly,” said Petra. “I’m good for a few days, I think!”

Petra leaned over backwards and did a handstand, her long legs crossing above her and coming down the other side like a gymnast. She sure was rubbing it in.

Kirsten rose up too, taking her shirt and thigh-high stockings off. She tossed them into a nearby linen-lined wicker basket, her skin glowing smooth in the incandescent lighting. She liked being naked at home, and the girls were used to it. Some days they all lounged around in the nude, giving each other oil massages — essential for keeping their skin supple.

“Ugh, but I can’t stand the library,” said Shalini, wrinkling her nose as though the library was a refuse center.

Kirsten flung her bra playfully at Shalini. “Why, no pickings at the hospital today?”

Shalini worked at the district hospital as a nurse. Her exotic Indian looks always made her stand out. That curvy hourglass body was top-heavy with bouncy tits threatening to spill forth from her tight uniform. Shalini pretty much showed up just for sex. If it wasn’t with the hospital management or interns, it was with the visitors, and sometimes a VIP patient in the private suites. When she wasn’t having sex, she was constantly teasing patients on her routines, bending over to reveal her cleavage or rubbing her ass across their hands. Those who groped her would find she was not wearing panties. She kept a few hearts pumping well; blood circulation was healthy in her ward.

“Well, I called in sick…then the landlord showed up, so that was all I had today,” she whined, her Indian accent and melodrama unmistakable. “You know I’m the reason he keeps our rent low, right?”

Eva jumped in, “And I’ve told you repeatedly, you don’t need to do that fat ass Italian. We can afford this address just fine.”

Shalini ignored her. She took Kirsten’s bra, lifted it to her face and inhaled the lightly perfumed scent. “Another Jo Malone fragrance? You should really try Dior. I’m forever a Poison girl.”

“Oh please. Poison is so ’80s!” said Kirsten, shuddering. “What kind of men would you get with that? Old geezers still reminiscing about their youth?”

Shalini threw all the cushions on the sofa at Kirsten. It was fast becoming a pillow fight with peals of laughter.

Eva got up and decided she had had enough of puerile banter. She threw her hands in the air, saying, “You girls are just a gaggle of sluts!”

They were all a little high and drunk on life’s essence. Sex was just nourishment, something they needed every day in place of real food, ideally three times a day. They did feel trashy sometimes, but even that was decidedly enjoyable.

“Well, I haven’t had my night feed yet,” said Eva, checking her reflection in the large wall mirror behind the sofa and smoothening her outfit. She released three buttons on her white shirt to let her red bra peep out. “I’m going out. Maybe I’ll get lucky at Willie’s Bar. Damn, I love that name.”

“Willie’s Bar!” Shalini also shot up from the sofa. “Oh it’s awesome! Can I come with you, Eva? Pleeeease? Please, please, pretty please?” She started doing a little belly dance around Eva. It was annoying and Eva pursed her lips tightly.

“No, silly girl. I hunt alone. You know that,” Eva said. She didn’t need a loud, attention-seeking girl around to hinder her efforts. Their styles were poles apart, and frankly, Eva didn’t like the men that Shalini drew.

“Eva, you’re a rotten sport,” said Shalini, sticking her tongue out at her. “You’re just afraid I’ll get your men! Can’t handle some competition?”

Eva’s face turned dark, her eyes burning angrily. Without warning, she swiped a fork from the nearby breakfast counter, and stabbed it into Shalini’s cheek. She tore the flesh out as she dragged the fork along the jaw.

Shalini gave a shriek. She quickly backed off before Eva could make another lunge at her. But Eva merely sat down at the breakfast counter, placed the stained fork calmly down on a plate, and trained her eyes on Shalini’s cheek intently.

The cheek wound, with bloody shreds gaping open seconds ago, was no longer there. Shalini’s tissues had regenerated quickly, the new skin a pale patch where too much blusher used to be.

“See, Shalini? Your healing power is at maximum. You’ve fed more than well enough today,” Eva said, with nonchalant objectivity, resting her elbow on the counter. “This isn’t about competition. Our styles are just too different, and so are the men we aim for. The main point is, you’ve already had enough for the day. You know you can’t stockpile this energy.”

“You’re always bullying me!” Shalini pouted and stormed off to her room. Eva fished out her lipstick from her bag on the living room table and put on her warpaint.

Petra and Kirsten had watched the whole scene in surprise, but neither were too perturbed about bodily harm. Eva shredding Shalini’s cheek was as inconsequential as tearing her outfit.

“You know, after all these years, it still spooks me that we feel no pain,” said Petra wistfully, lifting her hand up to her gaze, studying it like a strange object. “I can barely remember what pain feels like.”

Kirsten smiled. “Do you miss that? I don’t.”

Petra laughed, casting a glance back at Eva. “Our hotshot lawyer might, though. S&M just isn’t quite the same anymore without pain.”

“Well,” said Eva, “I find my joy in other ways. Torturing my bosses and clients. Trumping a deathly difficult negotiation. Making scads of money and throwing it away. I make do. Plenty of ways.”

“Pleasure from pain. Well, I’m squeamish. Pain, blood, cuts. Thank god we regenerate quickly,” said Petra.

“Yes, but we must never show it,” said Kirsten. “So far we’ve been lucky. We’d have to skip town if anyone saw us. Then again, I suspect we have to do that anyway, every ten years or so. People get so suspicious when they notice that we never age. There’s only so much you can blame expensive skincare!”

“Speaking of skincare, I’m in need of a nice facial and a stiff drink,” Eva laughed, her spiky Louboutin heels already clicking impatiently as she headed towards the door. “See you girls later.”

Eva stepped out into the cold night air. She paused to light a cigarette. She had never smoked before she was a zombie. Afterwards, however, it became a game, like playing with fire, zombies’ biggest fear. Fire that she had full control over.

Eva looked at her mobile phone. There was a message from Jarrett, again asking to meet. He was a vet that she met when she brought an injured stray cat in. She liked him. Very much. He was sweeter than most men she had dated when she had been alive. But tonight she was going to bed a stranger, not him.

They could not have relationships with humans. It was far too risky. For both sides.

She flung the cigarette butt on the pavement and stubbed it out.

Thank you for reading! Please share this and Chapter 1 if you liked it! Please do visit http://amzn.com/B00R34KZFQ for the book itself, and see the five-star reviews!

The Ideal Dominant


I have always wanted to be collared, to be owned, to submit fully to someone I can trust. But finding that Master is harder than finding a good man. There are many wonderful men, but not all inspire submissiveness in a woman. Is it masculinity? Is it that hard edge and decisive authority combined with protective tenderness? An intriguing mix of lust and trust? A Dom has to be so many things.

I read this online somewhere, and I liked it, so I’m putting it here. Maybe someday he will come to me.

“The Dominant should be in control of himself first and foremost. He is confident, caring, and understanding. He does not allow ego to get in the way of learning, both about himself and his submissive. He knows how to love. And how to cherish the gift given to him.

When the Dominant meets a new submissive He is kind and guiding without demanding ritual of Her. He does not demand respect, he earns it. He explores her mind first, learning her strengths. He does not seek to seduce her, but gets to know her as a person first, building a relationship, slowly discovering if there is to be one.

If he is a good Dominant he does not do this to gain another submissive, but only because he is able to befriend someone, without the trappings of sexuality. He is not a predator, but a teacher, willing to pass his knowledge with little or no reward, but the pleasure of knowing he can, and the satisfaction of helping someone define their own path.

If the time comes when she offers herself to His service, The Dominant is the first to question her decision, to ask her to look into herself and discover if He is what she really wants. He is the first to mention Safety, to volunteer References, and to tell her to seek more. He supports safe calls and public meetings first, her safety is foremost in His mind at this beginning.If He decides to take the submissive into service, he is the first to mention negotiation, to offer his own personal information. He realizes the danger she could be placed in the wrong hands, and seeks to Guide her in protecting herself. He does not dismiss her worries, for he knows her risks are all to real.

He knows his safety also depends on Honesty, on communication. He is at first only as protective of himself he needs to need be, but open and honest about his life, tastes, what he expects, he knows that she will be taking a leap of faith, and is supportive of her.

To possess her, he knows he must first earns her respect. To do this, he must prove he is what he says he is, that he cares for her, that he would push her limits only to build her strengths, that he is willing to spend the time to learn her as a Person first, then as a submissive. He knows how wonderful this gift is that she offers, and is willing to live up to her trust in him.

To this end, he talks with her, learning her secret needs and desires, and in turn expressing his own, always ready to affirm her worth, to him ,and to herself , increasing her confidence in herself , and in the gift she gives, gently pushing her limits to show her she can be more than she feels she is, that she can go farther than she ever thought possible. Slowly opening the flower of her submission, coaxing her passion for him into full bloom.

If she lacks self esteem, he shows her he respects her, and finds her worthy of his time. He shows her she has beauty in his eyes, thus she is beautiful. He focuses on her strengths, to show her of her own power, He softly explains that the gift she gives is the most wonderful gift of all, Herself.

He takes the time to learn her Soul, before thinking of learning her body, as the Dominant learns his new submissive, a connection takes place allowing Him to sense her desires, her needs, her passions. With this new knowledge, the Dominant is able to take his Submissive to new heights of pleasure, to guide her and walk with her as together they seek new levels of love and fulfillment.

In taking a submissive into his service the Dominant takes on many responsibilities. He pledges to help guide her in her path, not only in the bedroom, but in life. He pledges to be there for her when she needs Him, to care for her, ease her pain when she is depressed, comfort her when she is ill, assist her in overcoming her fears and worries, to hold and love her when she needs affection.”


Sex is not a goddamn performance

This powerful piece comes from a Facebook friend, Michael Jenkins. It’s so brutally honest and resonant, I had to share it. Enjoy!

amorous couple making love in bed

Sex is not a goddamn performance. Sex should feel as natural as drinking water. It should not require confidence.

Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe. Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.

You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh. It’s not about being good in bed. It’s about being happy.

One should never worry if they’re doing it correctly. Sex is not factual. I don’t want your cookie-cutter sex, I don’t want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don’t want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It’s enough.

What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there’s only one. Hello, here’s me. Here’s you. Don’t worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can do a different one later.

Don’t worry about making me come. I’m here. Right where I want to be. I am overwhelmed by wanting; you don’t have to convince me. I want you because I like you. So don’t put on a front. Don’t taint this.

I’m frustrated—it’s just authenticity I want. It’s originality. It’s passion. It’s joy. Don’t say that something I like is ugly. Don’t compare yourself to the rest. You will live and die with and within your experiences like everyone else. If someone thinks you are amazing, they are not wrong. Their universe is as real as any other; it is forged through perception.

I don’t care if you accidentally slammed my head into the wall, if you slipped out, if my arm cracked, if the delightful pressure of your wet lips on my anything made a silly sound. There is no right way and no wrong way.

Good in bed. What? You’re good in my bed. I’m pleased you’re there. I feel it suits you. Shove your technique. Let your memory swallow it. Fuck me like you’d fuck me, fuck me like you feel. This isn’t a test.

Wanton Sex

Yes. The kind of sex we ultimately crave with a beautiful lover – intensely charged, uninhibited, and exhilarating. Is there anything more wondrous than the fevered union of two mutually attracted souls?

When desire reaches such ferocity, the sensory joy of every “twitch, thrust, and caress” is preciously augmented.

Does the excitement come from the lover, the circumstance or a perfect compatibility?

Wanton sex often strikes in the realm of discovery, heightened by the thrill of the chase and the unknown. But for some lucky ones with the right sexual fit, this wild intensity can be savored repeatedly in a stable and intimate relationship.

For sapiosexuals, the mating of the minds must come first. Intellectually the sparks must fly. And then, only then will the explosive coupling be possible. The whole imagination becomes the playground where mutual shared fantasies stoke the passions and enhance the bonding. This is the kind of sex that stays in your memory.

Merry Christmas and happy fucking.

Excerpt from XXXombies: Chapter One

Here’s a peek into XXXombies: In Death, Pleasuring is for Life. The book is up on Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00R34KZFQ

Attractive beauty posing.

Kirsten looked up at the man standing before her. Her greenish-gold eyes burned with a manic iridescence as she gasped for breath. She had his cock in her hand all wet and trailing saliva from her lips. It was delicious deep-throating him in the dark alley, she squatting in her stiletto heels and short skirt, he leaning against the crumbly brick wall. Her blouse and her legs were wide open, allowing unhindered view of breasts and pink bits. She went back to work on the huge cock, fitting her lips tightly around the thick head and sliding her mouth down the whole shaft.

“Oh yeah, work it, baby…” he moaned.

She made muffled sounds of wanton pleasure as her mouth moved up and down that thick member. Her hands joined in the hungry feast, skillfully stroking and squeezing the shaft whenever her lips drew back. Yes, he was close now, judging from his quickening grunts and the way he gripped her hair. With clever flicks of her tongue on the head still inside her mouth, the beautiful blonde finally felt the sign she was longing for — the powerful surging in the cock’s veins.

The burly man shuddered and invoked the name of God repeatedly as he spurted his cum copiously in her mouth. Kirsten quickly swallowed what seemed like a never-ending load. She guessed he hadn’t released in a while. But it was good stuff — hot, thick and enervating. Exactly what she had hoped for.

“God, that was intense,” he gasped. “You nearly sucked the life out of me. Damn, you’re unbelievable!”

“Mmmm. That’s because I love doing this,” she said, licking and coaxing the last few precious drops out of the tip. He looked woozy, and he slid down the wall that he had been leaning on. Crumpling to the ground in his unzipped jeans, he took a while to gather his breath. He had never felt this weak and light-headed before.

“What’s your name, honey?” he asked, watching her through his dazed and half-closed eyes.

She didn’t answer. Kirsten merely gave a mysterious sly grin, indicating that anonymity was the best way to keep things.

“I thought you looked a little ashen earlier, but you are actually gorgeous,” he remarked with genuine amazement. Her beauty glowed in a way he hadn’t noticed earlier. It was almost like she was a different woman. He chalked it down to her satisfaction with his manhood.

“Oh. Must have been the moonlight,” she said, dismissively. “Casts a pallor on everything.”

Kirsten drew back and stood up, buttoning her blouse. Her demeanor was cold and icy again.

“Hey, where are you going? Come back with me and we can fuck,” he smiled at her and tried to reach for her hand. It was then he noticed he had taken several fine clumps of her hair in his hands, while she was fiercely delivering that blowjob.

“Oh Christ! What the hell is this?” he sputtered, a chill quickly seizing his heart. He nervously shook the golden strands off his fingers, as if they were a bad hallucination.

But Kirsten had already dusted her knees and turned away. Her long, wavy, blonde mane looked bizarrely more lush and glorious now than before. She walked away from the spent and puzzled man, her shiny red heels clicking on the pavement.

She licked the corner of her mouth. Good cum. Very good life energy. If only most nights were as fruitful as this. She touched her skin. It felt smooth and soft again, not dry and peeling anymore. Ashen she had been earlier, as the guy had correctly observed. The hair falling out was a close call just now. Any further decay and it would be clear she was a zombie. She reminded herself never to go so long without a feed.

Yes, feeding was important. Most zombies were possessed by an endless hunger, one that compelled them to feast on human flesh. Kirsten had a different kind of hunger. She lusted only for fresh warm semen, brimming with life seeds. By sheer luck, something had altered her zombie transformation, those many years ago. So she yearned not for blood and meat, but for cum. Not in a sordid way, even though her feasting did come with pleasure, but for sheer survival. She would wither and rot without it.

The pearly ejaculate was precious; it rejuvenated her undead flesh. It was the powerful life essence in semen that she had to imbibe or absorb regularly to maintain her living human form. It was not a bad trade-off. Plus, she could retain all memory, language, skills and intelligence, unlike other zombies which seemed little more than animated rag dolls.

Kirsten passed a shop window, and glanced at her reflection. The life force refreshed her cells and perfected them; she was more beautiful dead than alive.

But the world did not know of her kind. Either not many zombies were made this way, or if they existed, they were totally undercover for survival. The zombies that the world was familiar with were the traditional rotting and mindless sort; and the humans’ prejudice against zombies was too deeply entrenched for any variants to be tolerated. Even “mutant” zombies like her. She had learned that humans would not trust anything undead, no matter how alluring.

The war on zombies had been going on for decades. While it had been sheer mass panic when the first wave emerged, it seemed the humans had the upper hand for now. The undead had been driven underground, their numbers apparently dwindling.

The slower and stupid necromorphs had largely been wiped out, leaving only the strain that was wiser about self-preservation. The smarter zombies would attack sporadically in small teams to feed and then hide. They knew not to make too many of themselves, for in larger numbers they created feeding competition, and could not hide as effectively. They were way too recognizable — grey decaying skin, a sickly stench, meaningless moans for speech, and parts of their bodies in disarray. They were death animated.

But being undead they could not be killed, not by ordinary means. Knife and gun wounds made scant difference. They could not drown. They were immune to diseases. The only methods of eradicating them were cremation — destruction by fire — or obliteration of the head where the brains were. The brains were critical; they had to shut down.

The humans had gotten good at dealing with zombies, corralling them into giant pits and burning them up. After some time, the human casualties dropped to just a few. They couldn’t completely eradicate the zombies but the threat was now deemed almost negligible. More humans were killed by humans than by zombies. Every home by now had a flame thrower to fight off the odd zombie, as though they were just an unwelcome grizzly. 

Kirsten reached a busy intersection. She looked at the bright lights, the cars and human traffic. People walked past her, oblivious to who or what she was. Pub crawlers and party-goers. A suit hurrying home, with phone glued to the ear. Overweight women emerging from a 24-hour fast-food restaurant. A drunk homeless man spat on the pavement and broke into a caterwauling song, totally off-key. Thankfully the lights turned in her favor just then and she continued on her way.

The zombies were not evil. They had just become Man’s no.1 predator. The human race stopped being on top of the food chain, and did not like it. On both fronts, it was a fight for survival, pure and simple.

Kirsten drew her coat closer. It wasn’t the cold that bothered her though. She had stopped feeling it for years. She didn’t belong in either world. But for now, it was safer to blend in with the humans.

It wasn’t always easy, but she was not alone.

Kirsten rounded the corner and stepped up into her apartment building. It was well past midnight as she turned the key in the lock and opened the door.

Well, that’s the intro and I hope you like it. In Chapter Two, you get to meet more of the girls…

Get the full book at 99 cents only – http://amzn.com/B00R34KZFQ