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Indie Erotica blog, primarily Dark, paranormal,Thriller / Mystery, BDSM, D/s, and Menage / Poly genres.
Episodes
Saturday Oct 15, 2016
Saturday Oct 15, 2016
The office party by Paul Mason
The office party was winding down finally. I had been careful with how much I drank so that I could be alert and DTF when the time came. I look...ed over the dark room to see where my red haired beauty was and whether I could spirit her away to her hotel room soon. I was so excited and frustrated that we didn't get a chance earlier in the day. My lust was a constant, pulsing tension in me for hours....
Finally I spotted her. She was talking with my office mate. They were close together, laughing and talking. I knew they both were excited. Faces a little red, things unsaid, Sharon leaned in to listen to something Anne said, a little closer than necessary, and I watched Anne's eyes dip, checking that gorgeous cleavage on her. I smiled, knowing how this could play out as Sharon leaned even closer to whisper in Anne's ear. Her hand sneakily sliding up Anne's hip where no one would notice except me, because I'm a sneaky pervert who knows how Sharon thinks...
I watched Anne's eyes hood as she listened. Her tongue darting out to wet her full lips. Her nipples hardening through the cloth as she listened, and then listened more. I watched her hand twitch, wanting to touch Sharon back but knowing there could be an audience. She glanced around, looking to see who was watching. Her eyes finally settled on me, widening as she say my intense stare, reading my own hunger in my gaze...
Almost unwillingly, she glanced down to see that I was excited too. Her breath deepened, and I saw Sharon lean over to look at me too, still whispering. Anne glanced sharply at something she said, then back at me. I nodded, knowing what Sharon was saying. After a moment, Anne nodded too, then turning and grabbing Sharon's hand she started walking toward me....
Wednesday Sep 21, 2016
Wednesday Sep 21, 2016
Six Words
He poised his pen,
Centered his thoughts,
And then began with an alacrity,
Not afforded most.
His stanzas dipped and dived,
His words looped and whirled,
Harmonized and danced,
With a rhythm, a power, a cadence.
Phrases flowed in a powerful seduction,
An enticing entanglement.
Able to woo and win at will,
Offering a mixture of passionate prose,
Or oft' times a poetical promise,
Few could not succumb to.
Emotions long buried in both,
The writer and the reader were born anew.
He'd needed to tell a tale,
And indeed he had, but so much more.
Enjoined to come along,
We followed happily.
A finer pied piper of poetry,
Most had never had the delight,
In meandering with for any length of time.
Six words that would forever change worlds.
For such was the beauty of those words,
That none who read him,
Remained quite the same afterwards.
Let him tell you a story...
Copyright 2016 Tamara McLanahan. All rights reserved.
Monday Aug 22, 2016
Monday Aug 22, 2016
Thank you to Dea for tagging me in the picture that inspired this. Thanks also to the two dearest friends who inspired me when writing this. To LXB, thank you for urging me to "tell your tale," and giving me the confidence to do it. I haven't stopped writing since that advice. Thanks too to Mark A. Morris, who urged me to "write everything, anything, write for yourself and enjoy it all," but also to "dig deeper." I've done both and this is what has come from that.
THE MOON AND SUN
The Moon rose as she had every day since she could remember. No creature who had seen her in her youth was living still. Time had not been kind to them, nor, she thought, had it been for her. Once vibrant and glowing, she now felt old, ancient, scarred and weathered. Yes, she had looked deeply into the mirror pools on the magical place she circled. Ripples may distort her visage some, but she knew, could tell. The most recent creatures on the planet had once thought her beautiful; had turned their faces up to her in supplication. Once bowed to her in reverence, had worshipped her from afar. Gifted offerings to her. But those days were long past. Some still treated her with reverence. Saw some mystical beauty that remained but with each new night, their numbers dwindled. As did her hope. Where once she saw love, adoration, now the night was a cold, dark place, a drudgery to endure until light, until the glorious Sun beamed out from his hiding spot.
And the Moon did find him magnificent. He shone with an incandescence she had never had, even newly born. Folly to stare too long at his grand and pure light but too often, she sank as he arose and could only glimpse of him. Unable to linger even had she wanted to. And so it went on, as time had ceased meaning for her, until one day, just as she was descending, the Moon began to weep. The futility, the loneliness all but driving her mad. The irony did not escape her. Many creatures had blamed her for their own lunacy. But such was her desperation, her despondency that she cared little for what had passed before. The pain was overwhelming her with its immediacy. Now! Enough! How to live even one more minute with this agony?
Even as that thought formed, she caught a quick flash from the Sun. Had he done that on purpose? A momentary distraction? She turned her gaze to him in that last second and saw his radiant smile. Directed right at her? That smile sustained her through the day, until night crept in, her time to rise again. She wondered at the why of it. What had caused the Sun to act that way? After eons, he'd chosen last night to gift her with something more. An offer of friendship? They each had a lonelier existence since those upright creatures had turned away from holding them in ultimate reverence. A commonality, a mutual respect perhaps as both were tenacious at lighting the skies. So little time to see and be seen, to share the horizon, to express whatever offer, level of friendship he might have been proposing. And so she turned to study the Sun once more as his flaming halo, his luminous crown chased away the night. Ready as her repose neared, she saw yet again a caressing grin split his glowing face.
For the first time in too long to count, the Moon felt hope flicker within her. And with each successive moonrise, it grew and grew until she was fair to bursting. Even some of the creatures that walked the magical globe beneath her seemed more enchanted of late, their eyes drawn up to her to behold her transformation back to more of her former glory. She waited, existed for those glimpses of his fair countenance. Golden and glorious and always with that beautific smile. Then came the day when she was allowed to linger come daybreak. The first such chance since he'd bestowed that flash of smile all those days ago. There he rose again, taking her breath away, beams shooting over the horizon to herald his awakening. Resplendent in his golds, oranges and reds. He opened his eyes and looked at her, his lips curving.
"Fairest Sun," she spoke, "how is it that after all this time, we've just now begun to smile at one another, to explore a fragile connection and seek a friendship? And how could one such as yourself ever bestow such kindness upon the likes of me? You are a glory in your radiance, and I pale in comparison."
"Dearest Luna, how could you not know, not have guessed? I have strode across the skies for time wrapped around time, trying in vain for any glimpse of you I could manage. Your ethereal beauty has haunted me so. Left me tongue tied and humbled by your loveliness. I need descend when tis my time but you, fairest, you can hover in my morning sky when it is afforded you. Those days are the ones I bide my time until, await breathlessly for, hold close to my heart. I would have worshipped your exquisiteness from afar, afraid to hope for more, had I not seen you weeping."
The Moon was stunned by his confession, the endearment expressed. The Sun loved her! And if she was being honest with herself, she had loved him also, for close to an eternity. They had much to say to each other, but as all time moves forward so too did this halcyon day. At length, the Sun began to climb down in the sky. The Moon began to cry, not wanting to be left alone again.
She pleaded, "Please my love, stay with me, I will happily share my night sky with you. We have so much more to say! Time to make up for. Don't leave me in the darkness, bereft of your warmth and loving light."
A gentle smile on his golden face, he replied, "My dearest Moon, do you not guess why I happily go to rest when darkness descends? I go willingly, so that you may shine your very brightest upon the world below us. So that they too may gaze at you in all your magnificence. I die a temporary death so that you may live fully." And with that he sank out of sight.
The Moon held there, drinking in all his words. She looked around her, seeing the same world below, the same stars glittering about behind her, a beautiful canvas to frame herself with. But the night was no longer a cold, empty place for her. She hugged the knowledge that she was so loved by the Sun to her heart. He would come back to her in time, and so she shone regally down upon the magical land they revolved around, knowing he was just on the other side of world. She was loved, unconditionally, and it was reciprocated.
-Tamara McLanahan
Copyright 2016 Tamara McLanahan. All rights reserved.
Sunday Aug 21, 2016
Sunday Aug 21, 2016
The Painted Muse
She lay there in the dappled sunlight grove, arms over her head, elbows bent gracefully, her fingers locked together. Still and watchful on the blanket, a moss green which almost matched the shade of grass. The better, he'd said, to seem as if she lay directly on the turf itself. A nymph or fairy just come to sun herself in the lazy heat of the day, descended from her tree abode, down to this magical glen for only a short while.
Her body was to be his canvas, a pure, living breathing expanse to paint his desire upon. He'd fanned her red hair about her, a siren who beckoned him with slumberous eyes of green, but still observant as he moved about her. One leg bent slightly as she relaxed upon the cover, a bemused curve on her lips, as she waited to be painted upon, to become his next objet d' art.
The air was redolent with jasmine and roses, for this glen was filled with flowers in every hue. Birdsong was a further enchantment to this afternoon's work. Blue birds, sparrows, even a cardinal were perched nearby, as if to watch over the progress of this pursuit. He'd not be at all surprised if other woodland creatures came out to watch him lay his brushes upon her skin, as he fancifully wondered if perhaps she was indeed part woodland sylph. She'd certainly captured him from the moment he'd cast eyes upon her.
He stood over her, his gaze drinking in her creamy breasts as they rose and fell with each breath. Her stomach moving with each intake of air, each exhalation. His fingers itched to be started, to lay color upon color on her, to watch as those shades moved with her breathing. He may have been the artist, but this bewitching creature was surely his muse. Never had he felt so inspired, or so consumed by passion.
-Tamara McLanahan
Friday Aug 19, 2016
Friday Aug 19, 2016
Thursday Aug 18, 2016
Thursday Aug 18, 2016
Sunday Aug 07, 2016
Sunday Aug 07, 2016
A tribute to one of the finest wordsmiths it's ever been my honor to know. It all began upon reading his "Let me tell you a story..."
Six Words
He poised his pen, ...
Centered his thoughts,
And then began with an alacrity,
Not afforded most.
His stanzas dipped and dived,
His words looped and whirled,
Harmonized and danced,
With a rhythm, a power, a cadence.
Phrases flowed in a powerful seduction,
An enticing entanglement.
Able to woo and win at will,
Offering a mixture of passionate prose,
Or oft' times a poetical promise,
Few could not succumb to.
Emotions long buried in both,
The writer and the reader were born anew.
He'd needed to tell a tale,
And indeed he had, but so much more.
Enjoined to come along,
We followed happily.
A finer pied piper of poetry,
Most had never had the delight,
In meandering with for any length of time.
Six words that would forever change worlds.
For such was the beauty of those words,
That none who read him,
Remained quite the same afterwards.
Let him tell you a story...
Copyright 2016 Tamara McLanahan. All rights reserved.
Wednesday Aug 03, 2016
Wednesday Aug 03, 2016
https://icingdeathe.wordpress.com/
Tuesday Jul 26, 2016
Tuesday Jul 26, 2016
Monday Jul 11, 2016
Monday Jul 11, 2016
Feel free to stalk me as well. I'll be interviewing some of the hottest and most fascinating authors of Erotica, Paranormal and Horror in the coming months. Should be interesting, won't be boring! Give us a listen.
https://icingdeathe.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/Icingdeathe/
http://icingdeathe.podbean.com/
Lucas X Black Links:
Facebook Author page: https://www.facebook.com/Author.LucasXBlack/
Instagram: https://instagram.com/Lucas_X_Black/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lxblacktx
Amazon Author page: http://author.to/LXBlack
Website: www.lucasxblack-author.com